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nataliasquote · 2 months

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Double the trouble [pt. 5] | n romanoff

Double the trouble au

Summary: Y/n faces some difficult feelings, whilst Isla decides to take matters into her own hands, making decisions that could fall flat on their face

Warnings: none, major fluff

Pairings: WandaNat, Maria Hill x reader

wc: 3.7k

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"So did you kiss her?" Clint asked, spinning a pair of drumsticks around his fingers as he eagerly awaited an answer. But Maria just wrinkled her nose at him, disgusted.

"She's my best friend, idiot. Don't paint us like that."

Clint shrugged. "I'm just saying, she's single now, so you can shoot your shot. It's been what, 5 years? At this point you're going to be waiting your entire life to get the girl you want."

If looks could kill, Clint would be in the ground. Maria hated that he was right, but she didn't want to ruin the friendship she treasured so much. Y/n was her closest friend, the one she told everything to. They'd been inseparable since middle school and Maria didn't know what she'd do without her.

That night on the couch was purely to comfort Y/n. It didn't mean anything else. They always hugged, Y/n was a touchy person, and Maria just wanted to be there for her. But she would be lying if she said there wasn't a small part of her that wanted to hold the redhead tight and never let her go.

But Y/n was vulnerable and had made it pretty clear she wasn't going to be dating anytime soon. Bucky may not be on her mind as much, but she still had scars that hadn't quite healed.

"I'm not going to ruin our friendship Clint, and that's final. And if you say anything to her, I will not hesitate to chop your dick off." Her cold glare told him she meant it. And who was he to mess with her?

But as the weeks trickled by and everyone started excitedly chatting about the upcoming winter formal, Maria couldn't help but daydream. She'd stumble over her own feet to ask Y/n to the dance as her date, feeling on top of the world with the redhead on her arm. But Y/n would probably find a date by herself, because best friends just didn't go together.

"You've got your thinking face on again," Y/n noted, stealing a chip from the open packet on the table. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about finals, that's all."

Y/n hummed and crossed her ankles over. Her legs were draped across Maria's lap as they lounged on the couch, a random chick flick playing in the background on the large living room tv. "What about the winter formal? Any cute girls catching your attention?"

Maria took her opportunity to busy herself with her drink, taking extra long sips to buy herself some time. "Nope. Not really." Little liar. Well, kind of. Because Y/n was so much more than just a 'cute girl'.

"I would have thought you'd have been asked by now," Y/n said after fiddling with her phone for a little bit. "Wait, did I ever show you my dress? I bought it with Mama the other week and it's perfect." She held up her phone up to show her best friend and Maria's heart skipped a beat.

It was only a generic image from google, but the brunette couldn't help but let her imagination run wild at the thought of Y/n wearing it. The emerald green satin was simple but effective, and the thigh high slit in the side set her heart racing. There was no doubt in her mind that Y/n would look like a goddess wearing it and her heart clenched. Someone was going to be really lucky to have her.

"You'll look beautiful," Maria said softly, her eyes flicking up to look at Y/n over the top of the phone. "Your date will be pinching themselves."

Y/n blushed, ducking behind her hair as it swung forward over her shoulder. "At this rate I'll be going alone. But I don't care. I'm more excited about the dress." Y/n knew exactly who she wanted to take her to the dance, but asking her was too much of a risk. Maria had her eyes on other girls for sure.

Maria left after the movie ended to get home to her mom, leaving Y/n on the couch. Isla was out on a date with Valkyrie so there was not much else for Y/n to do. She wandered into her moms' room where Natasha was reading a book, glasses halfway down her nose.

"Mama?" She knocked on the door even thought it was open because Natasha was known to be jumpy. But the older redhead just looked up and smiled, placing her book closed by her side.

"Hey malyshka, is everything ok?" She noticed Y/n's hesitant body language and patted the space beside her on the large kingside bed. "Has Maria gone home?"

Y/n nodded as she climbed up, settling under Natasha's arm and cuddling into her side. "How did you know you liked girls?" She blurted out, screwing her eyes shut. There was supposed to be a build up but clearly her brain was more eager to learn.

Natasha's brows shot up in surprise and she was glad Y/n couldn't see the smile she was suppressing. "What makes you ask?"

"Just wondering."

"Well, the very first time I saw your mom in the meeting room back at the agency, I couldn't get out of my head. I hadn't thought about my sexuality much beforehand, but she just made everything make sense."

Natasha and Wanda never really spoke much about their time working for the government. They just referred to it as 'The Agency' days, never once disclosing the true name of the organisation. But both Y/n and Isla knew their moms had been spies in their youth, so they never pushed them for more information. A dance studio owner and stay at home mom suited them a lot better in their opinion.

"So you didn't like anyone before you met Mom?"

"I suppose I had a boyfriend at some point, but it never really felt right. Sort of like a means to an end, in a way."

"But then with mom it felt different?"

Natasha loved how soft Y/n was being. She was the more gentle one out of the two, but rarely did she open up about topics quite like this. It made Natasha hold her that little bit tighter.

"I couldn't imagine a life without her," Natasha admitted, getting lost in memories in her mind. Barely twenty five years old and completely head over heels for a gorgeous auburn haired woman with mind reading abilities. "She was the reason I kept going."

"How did you tell her how you felt?" Her moms' love story was everything she aspired to have in life. Even twenty years later they still were just as in love with each other as they were when they were younger. "What if she didn't even like girls?"

Natasha let out a laugh. "Trust me, sweetheart, there was no way your mom was into guys. And there was also no way I was going to let her get away without at least telling her how I felt."

"You make it sound so easy," Y/n grumbled, slumping down into the mattress. She was beginning to hate relationships. Why did they require so much brain power? She wanted everything to just pan out the way she wanted, but unfortunately that required a lot of effort.

"May I ask where this is coming from?" Natasha could take an accurate guess, but she wanted to hear it straight from Y/n before she concluded anything.

"Nothing, I just-"

Natasha gently gave her daughter a nudge. "Y/n, you don't have to hide anything from me. I'm your Mama, I thought we had no secrets?" Natasha was not pushing her to come out in any way, but she also didn't like seeing her youngest so troubled. If it was something they could sort out together, then she would rather know.

But Y/n just mumbled something and buried her face in her mother's side, slipping down the bed away from her sitting position. Natasha shook her head at her antics and gently stroked her back, just like she did when her girls were little.

"If you actually spoke so I could understand, that would help," she teased. "Preferably English, but if Russian or Sokovian is what you prefer then I'll allow that too."

Y/n untucked her head and lightly glared at her mother who just raised her eyebrows, still waiting for her response. There was no getting out of this one now.

"I just don't know what to do. Every time I see her I feel all bubbly inside and everything she does is just so perfect but she's my best friend and I can't risk messing this up because I don't want to lose her and-"

"Ok, ok, and breathe." Y/n's words flowed out like word vomit and Natasha thought her daughter might pass out before she managed to finish her sentence. "Now, who is this about?"

"Maria," the young redhead mumbled barely above a whisper. "I'm being stupid, I know."

"You're not stupid baby, not at all." Y/n still wasn't convinced. But her head was tucked so tightly against Natasha that she didn't hear Wanda enter the room. The Sokovian paused at the door, a pile of folded laundry tucked under her arm as she processed the scene in front of her. Natasha brought her finger to her lips and shook her head and Wanda nodded, shifting her weight to lean against the doorframe.

"I am stupid because she's going to hate me and never be friends with me again because falling for your best friend is the dumbest thing I could do and she doesn't even feel the same way and I-"

"Malyshka you're going to work yourself up into a panic attack if you don't slow down and breathe." Natasha could feel Y/n's stress radiating through her as she dragged her fingertips up her daughter's spine gently. Wanda's brows furrowed as she watched, her heart aching for her youngest.

"I just don't want to mess it up Mama." Y/n finally brought her head up and looked at Natasha, her eyes glossy with tears. "She's my best friend."

"You know, Nat was my best friend before we got together,” Wanda finally made her presence known, much to her daughter’s surprise. “Almost as close as you and Maria are now.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed, looking at Natasha and then back to Wanda. “How did you know who I was talking about?”

“Mothers know everything.” She gracefully moved over to the dresser and placed the clothes in their rightful places. “Sometimes you just have to take a chance with these things. But don’t rush it or force it, if it wants to happen, it will. But what I do know is that Maria cares for you an awful lot, so I don’t think you have much to worry about.”

Wanda wasn’t wrong. Maria looked at Y/n as though she hung the stars in the sky. She’d do anything for that special redhead, including supporting her from afar when she decided to date someone else. Maria thought the world of her best friend, but Y/n had been too blind to see it.

Google wasn’t nearly as helpful as her moms had been, yet somehow Y/n found herself scrolling through article after article of different advice forums telling you what to do if you have a crush on your best friends. Probably not the best use of her time at 2am on a sunday morning, especially when the horror stories vastly outweighed the positive ones. She finally fell asleep far more anxious than she was before.

A zombie was probably the most accurate description of Y/n’s state when she finally emerged from her room several hours later. She stared into space across the breakfast table, lazily dipping her croissant into her jam and chewed similarly to that of a camel. Isla eyed her sister warily, looking over at Natasha for help. But Natasha only shook her head, telling her to leave her be.

But what was Isla if not nosy? She basically skipped along the hallway to her sister’s room sometime after lunch, letting herself and heading straight for the bed. Y/n barely had time to protest before she felt her mattress dip beside her and she tugged off her headphones with a scowl.

“Ever heard of knocking?”

“Nope!” Isla said with a smirk. “What’s the secret?”

Y/n pressed pause on her youtube video. “What secret?”

“The secret everyone else knows but me. I’m not leaving until you tell me.” To prove her point, Isla crossed her ankles and tucked her hands behind her head, leaning back on the neatly arranged pillows at the top of the bed. “I’m comfy so I can wait as long as you need.”

“There is no secret, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A moment of silence hung between the girls and Isla studied the ceiling, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling catching her attention. They’d lasted for years, except for the occasional one that would fall off in the middle of the night and hit Y/n in the face.

“So then it’s nothing to do with you and Maria pining over each other but neither of you actually doing anything about it?”

Y/n’s eyes went wide and she turned over her shoulder, jaw dropping on shock. “What did you just say?”

“Are you seriously that blind? I thought I was the only one who needed glasses. Clearly not.” Isla opened her eyes and looked at her sister, stifling a laugh as she caught sight of her face. “You didn’t know, did you?”

“What? I don’t-“

“Then my work here is done.” Isla scrambled off the bed and ran down the stairs, trying to escape her sister who yelled after her, hot on her heels. “Mom save me!” She cried, sliding across the kitchen tiles in her socks, grabbing onto a chair so she didn’t slip over. Wanda froze with her hands in the air, taken completely by surprise at the sudden intrusion.

“Isla Marie, get back here!” Y/n yelled, appearing on the other side of the table as her sister. Wanda and Natasha were caught slap bang in the middle of this stand off, looking up from their computers as Y/n narrowed her eyes at her twin sister who was grinning her head off.

Western music should have started playing, but instead the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, breaking Y/n out of her trance.

“I think you should get it,” Isla said with a knowing look in her eye. Natasha raised an eyebrow at Wanda who just shrugged, just as clueless. “Go on.”

Y/n glared at her but turned around all the same, wandering to the front door. Isla kept her distance but followed, loitering in the hallway behind her. A package delivery? Or a neighbour? They rarely had visitors on a Sunday.

But the figure at the door was less like their usual UPS delivery guy and more like the slightly form of Maria Hill. She smiled softly as Y/n opened the door, her head just peaking up over a large bouquet of red and white flowers.

The redhead froze with her hand on the door, eyes almost bulging out of her head. Her mind was filled with nothing but static, all words tumbling from grasp. Isla stood behind her with her arms folded as she leaned against the wall, a cocky smirk on her face. Sister of the year award sure went to her alright.

Wanda and Natasha had come to investigate the mystery visitor but were stopped by Isla’s arm. The three redheads watched from afar, Wanda pouting from how adorable the scene before them was.

“Hi,” Maria started, breaking the slightly awkward silence as she shifted the flowers in her arm. “You look really pretty.”

Y/n’s outfit was nothing spectacular; it was sunday after all. She’d just opted for some loose cream lounge pants and a dark green crop top, but the winter sun had caught her hair and eyes, making the vibrant red and green pop even more. But Y/n could wear a trash bag and Maria would still think she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Thank you,” Y/n was slightly hesitant fuelled by her utter confusion. What was happening? “You do too.”

“Y/n, look,” Maria began, suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to get everything off her chest. “I can’t wait around anymore. I don’t know how else to say this except saying it outright, but I like you. I really like you. And not just in a ‘you’re my best friend’ way, but in a way I can’t even describe. I adore everything that you do, the way you never fail to make other people laugh and the way your heart is so kind and caring to those around you. I love the way you listen so intently and remember the smallest details. The way you never fail to make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world whenever we are together.”

Y/n was stunned at the words falling from her best friend’s lips. She was so overwhelmed that she didn’t notice the tears building up in her eyes as she listened, her lip trembling slightly. It was like a weight lifted off her chest, the stress of yesterday washing away with every word that Maria spoke.

“Clint made me realise that I can’t spend another day hiding the way I feel about you. I’m scared about losing what we have, but to me you’re worth taking that risk. I lost you to Bucky, and now I have you back I’ve realised I don’t ever want to lose you again. So please Y/n, will you be my date to the formal, and beyond that?”

Maria was slightly breathless as she finished her speech, her brain only just catching up with what she’d said. She poured her heart out, unable to stick to the mental script she’d planned in the car on the way over. Just looking at Y/n made her mind freeze over and she felt how shaky her legs suddenly felt.

“Maria,” Y/n started, so overcome with emotion that the tears had started to roll down her cheeks. “Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” The brunette let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and pushed the bouquet into Y/n’s arms with a relieved smile. “I was really scared.”

“Of what?”

“That you didn’t feel the same way I did. But now I know you do, and-“

Y/n was cut off by a pair of lips gently pressing themselves onto hers. It was a bold move, even Isla was taken by surprise, but Y/n quickly reciprocated before it ended. She was grinning like an idiot, yet still crying, her emotions all over the place.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Maria admitted and Y/n nodded, too choked up to speak but she so desperately wanted to agree. The young redhead had found herself dreaming about what it would be like to kiss her far too many times, but the real thing exceeded all of her expectations.

Y/n pulled her into a hug and held her tightly with her free arm, the other one holding her new favourite flowers out the way. She felt so relaxed, her body releasing all the tension of the past few weeks out in a single movement.

“Oh come on, I didn’t even get to do my trick!” A familiar voice whined as they hugged. Y/n let out a watery laugh as Maria gently wiped her tears and they turned around to see Clint with his bow and arrow beside a large covered up sign. “That’s not what we planned!”

“Sorry dude, my feelings got the better of me. But go ahead, why not.”

With a grumble, Clint stepped back and shot his arrow with perfect accuracy, watching as it sliced through the blank red paper and revealed the large, excessively glittery sign behind it. The paper didn’t split all the way so he scrambled over and quickly pulled the rest down, but the chaos just made Y/n laugh more. The lump in her throat didn’t subside but she welcomed the distraction.

“That was my initial way of asking you to the dance,” Maria admitted, gesturing to the large ‘Will You ‘Formal-ly Be My Girl’ sign now propped up on the front lawn. It was an adorable sign and Y/n nodded, even though she’d already agreed.

“Yes! Of course I will!” They both laughed and Maria pulled her in by the waist, careful not to crush the flowers as their lips met again. The sweetest, lightest kiss was exchanged, setting the butterflies in Y/n’s chest stampeding throughout her entire body. There was no way she was ever going to get used to that.

“About damn time!” Isla stepped forward and clapped, grinning widely.

“Did you know?” Y/n asked, looking between Maria and Isla. “You were involved?”

“Y/n, it was getting painful watching you two skirt around each other like that. And I know you, I saw the way you act when Maria would leave, almost as if there were thunderclouds around your head. Even if you hadn’t figured it out, the rest of us had.”

Y/n frowned. That was the second time everyone else had figured it out before she had. Was she really that unaware?

Natasha leaned into Wanda’s arms as they watched from the doorway, smiles breaking out across their faces as the almost sickly sweet young love in front of them. Y/n looked the happiest she had in months, barely able to take her eyes off Maria even as Isla chatted away. She was completely head over heels.

“Did we do this?” Natasha whispered to her wife. “Did we subconsciously make both our girls like women?”

Wanda laughed, pulling her closer into her side. “There was never any doubt with Isla, and Y/n took a little longer to come round. But I knew we’d never have a boy in the house.”

“Oh, you did?” Natasha asked with a smirk. “Confident?”

“Call it a mom instinct.”

#double the trouble au #natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #maria hill

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suddenlybambi · 1 year

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use me ♥ kenny mccormick

pairing : kenny mccormick x vampire!reader

nsfw (smut) - minors DNI!!! - aged up characters (18+)

tags : mentions of blood, biting, blood drinking (all that usual vampire stuff iykyk) , mild praise kink, afab reader, mild sub/dom dynamics

word count : 3.1k

summary : mysterion just wants to keep the streets safe and y/n just needs to feed - he has an idea, but she refuses it until she has no other choice

masterlist

a/n - bambi stop turning men into subs challenge 💀

this isn't proof read because its 1am and i wrote this in a haze, so lemme know if you catch any mistakes please and thank you xoxo

The body crumpled to the floor of the alleyway as Y/N let go, doing her best to wipe her mouth clean of the blood. They weren’t dead, she was always able to stop herself before it went that far, but they would probably be a little woozy once they were conscious enough to get up again.

In her usual act of what she considered to be kindness, she slipped an iron supplement into their mouth, making sure they swallowed it in their half-conscious state.

Leaning down and lifting her mask up slightly, she held their eyes open to look into them to work her literal charm.

“You are going to forget you ever saw me; you just passed out on your way home,” She instructed. She could tell by the expression on the man’s face that it was working. They would always get this weird dopey look to them. “You are also going to drink more water because you are a bit dehydrated. Probably best to get some iron supplements for yourself while you’re at it, just for good measure.”

The person nodded, and Y/N knew her tracks were covered. Slipping her mask back down to cover her eyes, she let the man go and watched as he brushed himself off and stumbled away, wobbling a little as though he were drunk. Turning around, she began walking the opposite way down the street to return home. She would be satisfied for another week if she was lucky and didn’t over-exert herself.

“I assume the red on your lips isn’t lipstick?” Mysterion stepped out from the shadows as Y/N passed him. She knew he was there; she could smell him and hear his breathing from down the street, watching her feed. “You just couldn’t help yourself?”

“You know I don’t have a choice,” Y/N sighed, having had this conversation before on several occasions. She walked past Mysterion, but he followed her, never one to give up easily.

“I gave you a choice,” He corrected, trailing slightly behind her. “You just didn’t choose it.”

“That was a one-time thing out of necessity,” The words were routine to her by that point. She used to bribe Chaos to distract him on the other side of town while she fed, but he had caught on to the trick. “It’s not safe.”

“What’s not safe is for you to be roaming the streets and picking people at random,” He interjected. “For the public or for you.”

“And your suggestion is any better?” Y/N stopped and turned around. Even past the mask that covered her eyes, he could see the anger brewing from the slight red tint her eyes had started to assume. “We don’t know the long-term effects it would have on either of us.”

Mysterion had been right about it not being safe for her to pick people at random. There was a time when she fed from a man on some sort of drug that she had a horrible side effect from. She thought she was finally dying, but that was when the masked hero appeared. She couldn’t explain what was happening to her, but he seemed to understand well enough to know that she needed clean blood to heal, so he offered his own. His blood was like nothing she had ever had before, it was blissfully intoxicating, and she couldn’t stop.

The next night, when she saw him again, she thanked him but said it could never happen again. While Mysterion couldn’t die, at least not for more than a day, the guilt for killing again after she had sworn not to ate at her more than the new craving for his blood.

“I thought you enjoyed experimenting?” His tone was teasing, but that just angered her more.

“Just…” She sighed, trying to calm herself down as best as possible before she really flipped out on him. She knew that was what he wanted. If she did, she’d attack him. If she attacked him, she’d end up feeding from him. It had almost happened a few weeks after the initial incident, and he’d been provoking her ever since. “Just leave me alone. I’ve been doing this for longer than you could ever imagine.” She turned around again and started to walk, but his next words stopped her after only two steps.

“376 years, right?” He phrased it as a question but said it as more of a statement. How did he know that? “That’s just if I’m going based on your death certificate. Took a lot of digging, but it was easier when I found that you were born in England.”

“Congrats, dude,” She waved her arms up a little in a mixture of disbelief and frustration. She didn’t want him to see the genuine shock. She felt that he had taken time to research her. Modern technology was amazing, but that was still a difficult thing to do. “What do you want? A prize for being a top-notch stalker?”

“If you want me gone, why don’t you just charm me away?” Mysterion had inched closer to Y/N as he spoke. She could see his eyes through his mask, his pupils blown out in the dark of the night. “Unless you can’t?”

He was right. She couldn’t. She had tried before, tried to make him forget her. She didn’t think he was aware that it had been an attempt to charm him instead of just another plea to leave her alone, but she was suspecting he knew more about her than she wanted him to.

“Stay out of my business, and I’ll stay out of yours, Kenny,” She hoped the use of his real name would throw him off his tracks enough to make an escape. She had known the moment she saw Mysterion that it was Kenny. His blood had a distinct smell that she had always picked up in class. She assumed it must have been something to do with his immortality.

Immortality did strange things to the body, she would know.

“Your business is my business when you roam these streets looking for victims,” He slowly pulled away from her, giving her some space as he looked around to make sure they hadn’t been spotted. “Let me walk you home?”

“Get fucked,” With that, Y/N jumped up and transformed into a bat, flying off over the empty streets. It was a terrible idea, but she needed to get away. It drained her energy and, subsequently, her thirst at ten times the rate as just going about her normal day, which would inevitably lead to her having to feed again within the following few days, where the entire conversation with Mysterion would repeat itself, just as it always did.

It had been too long since she last fed.

Going to school for the first time had caught up with her unexpectedly. She lost track of time studying in the evenings. She had managed to obtain a necklace that allowed her to walk in the sun 17 years ago and that had opened up the world to her again after 350 years of living in the shadows. There was so much to learn that she had never gotten the chance to before when education wasn’t readily available, least of all for women. She relished the opportunity to learn and lost track of the days.

She hadn’t even thought about feeding until the first drop of blood from the fight between two students in the halls hit her like a tonne of bricks. She could smell it from the opposite end of the hallway.

Instinctively, she closed her eyes, knowing they would have already turned red from the thirst. The thirst was overwhelming. She needed to get out of there before she lost herself, but she couldn’t will her legs to move. The need to hunt was driving her mad.

A hand grabbed her arm while her eyes were closed. She knew from her already heightened sense of smell that got even stronger while hunting, that it was Kenny. He didn’t say anything to her, just started to drag her away. Y/N kept her eyes closed as she let him pull her through the halls, trusting him to do what was best for everyone by getting her far away from the people she could hurt.

She didn’t know where they were going until the fresh air hit her, and she heard a car unlock. She finally felt safe enough to open her eyes, climbing into the back of Kenny’s car. The backseat had tinted windows. She had seen him get into the car on enough occasions to know that. No one would be able to see her blood-red eyes and her protruding fangs if she stayed in there.

The panic was short-lived as it resumed in full force when Kenny climbed in next to her. He needed to get away from her, and he needed to do it fast. His scent was intoxicating, and she would very quickly lose herself. She could hear his racing heart pumping blood through his veins.

“You need to leave. I haven’t-” She started to explain as fast as she could, but he interrupted her.

“You haven’t fed in 2 weeks. I know,” He finished for her. Y/N’s anger started to slowly simmer within her. He knew that, but he was still taunting her? Whatever game he was playing was a stupid and dangerous one, and he needed to stop. “I’ve kept an eye on you.”

“Stalker,” She mumbled, somewhat half-heartedly. She thought she had caught the scent of him in her yard, but she had brushed it off as her imagination. “I’ll go tonight. Just let me calm down alone for a bit, and I’ll be fine to go back in.” She emphasised the alone as much as possible.

“We’re not taking that risk,” Kenny refused, reaching over the front seat to lock the doors. She felt trapped, like a mouse in a trap, but the cheese was Kenny fucking McCormick. He may as well have been trying to serve himself up on a platter. “Just feed on me.”

“Is this fucking funny to you?” Y/N could feel how sharp her teeth had become, almost slicing open her own lip as she spoke. The thirst was unbearable. She needed Kenny to leave. “Do you get off on this or something? What is wrong with-”

He cut her off again; however, this time, it wasn’t by talking. Kenny had pulled Y/N onto him, holding her on his lap with a secure grip on her waist and stopping her from talking by planting his lips on hers with a frantic kiss. She should have pulled away. She should have lept over the driver's seat, unlocked the doors, and used what little energy she could muster to run at her super speed until she found someone she could safely feed off of.

She should have done all of that, but she didn’t.

Instead, Y/N kissed Kenny back. Her body shifted into autopilot, her hands running through his hair. It was bliss until the unthinkable happened.

Her sharpened fangs cut Kenny’s lip, and a single drop of blood hit Y/N’s tongue. Panicked, she pulled away and tried to climb off of his lap, but his hands on her waist wouldn’t allow it.

Two words were all it took to break her final thread of resolve.

“Use me,” Kenny instructed in a breathless whisper. Before either of them could truly register what was happening, Y/N’s fangs were in his neck.

Kenny let out a shaky moan as the sharp pain suddenly turned into pleasure. It was one he had sought out ever since Y/N had fed from him all those months ago. She had explained it to him once when she was telling him that she wasn’t really hurting the people she fed from because her fangs would automatically release endorphins into them. She described it as a numbing feeling, but it made Kenny feel anything but numb.

The pleasure, coupled with the soft sounds of Y/N mewling as she drank from him, let alone the added fact that she was on his lap, was enough to leave Kenny rock-hard. He couldn’t control himself as his hips bucked up against her.

His heart almost stopped when she very suddenly pulled away, the feeling of her fangs no longer in his neck and the blood draining from him left him feeling empty. Her eyes were half-lidded as she looked down at him, lips stained red from blood, and her mouth hung slightly open.

Kenny thought he had died once again and gone to heaven when she, without warning, rolled her hips against his. His cock twitched desperately in his pants, and his grip on her hips would have been bruising to anyone but a vampire.

“When I asked you if you got off on this, I didn’t realise I had hit the nail on the head,” Y/N’s voice was low and seductive. Kenny had never heard anything so sexy in his life. He wanted to hear her talk all day, every day. He tried to roll his hips up to meet hers again, but her hands snapped down to his thighs, holding him in place. “Use your words, and I’ll consider giving you what you want.”

“Touch me, fuck me, use me, please,” He begged without hesitation, knowing it was the fastest way to get what he desperately needed at that moment. “Please?”

Y/N captured him in a breathtaking kiss, he could taste his blood on her tongue as it swirled with his, but he couldn’t care less. Her hands slid up his thighs until they reached his beltline, moving at superhuman speeds to impatient get her hands on what she wanted. The zipper popped open and flung across the car as she broke it, neither of them caring for a single second.

The muscles of Kenny’s thighs twitched and spasmed as Y/N’s hand slipped down his boxers, pulling his swollen cock out. The tip was red and leaking precum. Y/N ran her thumb over it without hesitation, bringing it up to her mouth, her tongue darting out to lick it up. He caught sight of her fangs, still protruding from the rest of her teeth. She was still hungry.

“Remind me to go down on you when my mouth can be trusted,” She whispered in his ear, pressing her chest against him as she leaned in. “For now, I’m impatient. We’ll have to skip to the main event.”

“Please,” He nodded eagerly, cock twitching in anticipation. Y/N took it in her hand, pumping it a few times as more precum leaked from the tip.

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” She smirked down at him. He didn’t have time to register what had happened before she sunk down onto him in one swift move. He hadn’t seen her remove her underwear. He didn’t know if she had done it at super speed without him seeing (though the panties were nowhere in his car to support that theory) or if she just hadn’t been wearing them in the first place. The latter drove him crazier than he already felt.

Just as she sunk down onto him, her teeth sunk back into his neck. Kenny was the most delicious meal Y/N had ever had, and she couldn’t help herself from going in for seconds.

Painfully slowly for Kenny, she lifted herself up and down on him. She kept a tortuous speed, her strength stopping his desperate attempts at thrusting up into her.

Reaching for his hands, she pried them off of her hips, slipping one up her shirt and under her bra to fondle her breasts and manoeuvring the other so his fingertips brushed up against her clit. He took the hint instantly, switching between each breast with his left hand to make sure they both received adequate attention and rolling her nipples in between his fingers, revelling in the louder moans that his neck was barely muffling as she fed from him.

His right hand slowly circled her clit, starting slow at first but speeding up as soon as she picked up the pace, sliding herself up and down on him. He felt whenever he hit her g-spot as her walls would clench around him, causing him to repeatedly hit it as the pleasure became unbearable.

“So close,” He managed to choke out, his movements becoming slightly sloppy as he started to lose himself. Y/N pulled her fangs from his neck, lifting her head just slightly so she could whisper in his ear.

“Cum for me,” He did so instantly, a loud moan escaping his throat, his head tilting back as he filled her up. He felt her walls clamp around his dick as she reached her own peak, her eyes rolling back slightly.

When she looked back at him, her eyes had returned to their natural colour, and her teeth had once again dulled down. He was completely struck by her beauty but struggled to keep his eyes open to admire her as he felt woozy from the blood loss. He heard her curse as his eyes drooped closed, his head lulling to the side.

Kenny wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he woke up to Y/N curled up against his side in the backseat of his car. She appeared to have done her best to clean him and herself up while he was passed out, but since she had broken his zipper in the heat of the moment, his jeans were still open.

He stretched a little as he woke up, Y/N lifted her head to look at him, and he could see relief flooding her face.

“I was worried I had taken too much,” She sighed a breath of relief, a hand reaching up to cradle his face. She intently examined his eyes, looking for confirmation that he was okay. “I’m so sorry; I lost control.” Kenny pulled her in for a kiss, far sweeter than the passion-filled ones they had shared earlier.

“I’m immortal, remember?” He reminded her softly as they pulled away. “You can’t kill me for long.”

“But we don’t-” She was about to protest again about how they didn’t know what would happen to either of them if she continued to drink his blood since he wasn’t a normal human, but one look at the pure adoration in his eyes stopped her in her tracks. “You should have just told me that was what you had in mind when you said you wanted to experiment. We could have been doing that for months.”

“Well…” Kenny grinned as the words processed in his mind, the implications clear as day. “We have an eternity left to catch up on missed time.”

#south park fanfiction #south park fic #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick smut #mysterion x reader #mysterion smut #vampire!reader #south park smut #sp kenny #sp kenny smut

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pennyellee · 5 months

Text

CHAPTER VI - súton

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, gun use, abduction, attempted non-con, gaslighting, vomiting, anxiety, choking, decapitation, strong language, smut, loss of virginity

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 11,1K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VII

súton (n.) twilight; the approach of death or the end of something

Images flashed through her mind like fragments of a dream, mixing reality with a disorienting haze. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for what was to come. She was still in her temporary private quarters. Was it all just a dream? Confusion ran through Y/N like the hot blood inside her veins.

The engine of the roaring car pierced her ears and her vision was still blurry. “Where am I?” she whispered, her voice slowly progressing to realise the situation. She grabbed the letter seat, trying to pull herself up.

“Chan-yeol?” she asked, pressured.

“Little bird, are you ready to fly away?” he laughed. Y/N looked at him with terror in her pupils.

“Are you out of your mind? You just signed your own death certificate Chan-yeol!” This is bad. Her thoughts spoke to her in distress, each and one of them telling her to do something.

“What, a sudden change of heart? Did you not want me to ship you off to the new land?” said the man, accelerating the car.

“He’s going to slaughter everyone!” she screamed.

“You did not think of that when you ran the last time or the time before, why now Y/N?” He spitted his words out, looking at her through the mirror. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to collect herself before she would lose her mind for good.

“He has the whole family on a silver platter there Chan-yeol! Turn the car right now!”

“We’re almost there.” He declared.

“Yoongi?!” was the first name that came to her mind. Voice full of fear. The sound of urgent footsteps echoed around her, crescendoing with the abrupt swing of the door. However, the one she sought, the man whose name she called, was not in her sight.

“Namjoon?” she called out, the surprise evident in her voice, interwoven with a thread of relief.

“How do you feel?” He asked, slowly approaching her petite form.

“What— I don’t understand,” she struggled to articulate her bewildered thoughts.

“You’ll thank me later.”

Chan-yeol’s words cut through the frosty air. He steered the car to the side of the road. Snow was everywhere she could see, each surface draped in ethereal white. Without waiting for the vehicle to come to a complete halt, Y/N flung the car door open, her steps bold as she ventured out into the wilderness.

The direction from which they arrived became a backdrop as she briskly distanced herself from Chan-yeol’s presence.

“This might be your last chance to flee this wicked world, girl.” His voice, heightened in intensity, reached her ears. Y/N stopped in tracks — the ultimatum clear.

Her family on one side, her newfound reality on the other – a choice lay before her.

“You have no idea what you just did!” she screamed defiantly, she refused to spare him a glance. “You’ve ruined everything!”

“Y/N?” a different voice echoed and her eyes widened at the unexpected interruption.

“I did not, Namjoon. I did not try to run away. You have to believe me!” Her words tumbled out in a frantic attempt to convey her innocence. Namjoon, his touch gentle, enveloped her small hands in his.

“Shhh… I know, it’s alright.” Namjoon cooed at the bride. And that’s when every single picture came back to her mind.

“How—how did you get here, for the love of God?” Y/N pivoted towards the speaking man, memories of their shared past flooding back as if the study hall of Shenyang’s University was just yesterday.

“I came for you,” he declared.

“For me?” She asked, disbelief in her voice.

“For me?!” she repeated, a frustrated laugh bubbling up. “Now you’re coming for me.” Y/N recalled the day he declared that she was in this battle alone, a stark contrast to their current proximity. They were never that close, he was too afraid to even hold her hand or maintain prolonged eye contact. But she considered him to be a friend, nonetheless.

“I love you,” he confessed, staring directly into her eyes.

“You love me?” She asked, mocking him, a bitter edge to her tone.

“Where was this love when I needed to run the hell out of the continent, huh?” She closed the distance between them, pushing him with aggressive force.

“You're a coward, Han Chen,” she spat, the venom in her voice cutting through the tension.

“I have a plan, Y/N,” he replied, brushing off her words even as they stung.

“Hmm… you have a plan. And what is this plan exactly?”

“He won’t want you if you’re ruined, Y/N.”

His words hit her like a cold gust of wind, and she gasped at the implications.

The haunting melody of that familiar song resonated in her mind once again.

“He—he attempted to rape me.” Y/N looked through her teary eyes directly at Namjoon's, whose mimics told her, she is right.

“He paid for that with his life.”

“You’re going to kill us all!” Her words became the truth once the first bullet was fired, finding its mark in Chen’s head. Y/N witnessed his eyes blackening, a vacancy replacing the spark of life.

He was gone. Blood dripped down his neck, staining her chest, her breath hitching as her vision blurred. Chan-yeol swore and fumbled with his gun, leaving Y/N to crumple to the ground, as he was tightly holding her down for the devil’s messenger to do the unforgivable.

Her eyes narrowed at the white sky. Chen’s lifeless body collapsing onto her smaller frame. Y/N’s hands trembled as she mustered the strength to slowly push his corpse away.

“Are you alright?” she heard him before she saw him above her.

“What about the wedding?” she asked, curiosity mingling with the shock that gripped her.

“We’ll proceed—” he answered, addressing yet another of her fears.

Speech and vision eluded her. “Y/N?” he asked again, gently throwing Chen’s lifeless body off her. “Darling, please say something.” His concern was palpable.

“Let me go, you fuckers!” Chan-yeol’s enraged screams echoed nearby. He hadn’t made a clean escape after all.

Hoseok helped her sit. Y/N’s eyes mirrored the emptiness that had claimed Chen’s.

“Darling?” Hoseok urged, attempting to coax her back to the present.

“—and hold a trial tomorrow.”

“Trail?” she asked, her voice fragile.

“Chan-yeol was a part of our clan. He is a traitor, and we’ll treat him as such.”

“And what about—”

She cast one more glance at Chen’s lifeless form before shifting her attention to Chan-yeol, struggling on the ground, surrounded by Min soldiers from whom she only recognised Jungkook.

“I want to go back, Hoseok-ssi. Please take me back.” Her voice wavered. Hoseok breathed out, relieved, helping her stand. As she turned to look at Chan-yeol, his screams pierced the air.

“Don’t look that way, sweetie,” Hoseok intervened, guiding her away from the chaotic scene. Only when they reached the parked cars, a good half a mile away from the unfolding drama, did she exhale and allow herself to close her eyes.

“Yoongi is beyond pissed. We could have avoided this if you would tell him about that foolish boy.”

“I swear, Namjoon, we were not... we did not—” she stammered.

“—I did not know he would come look for me nor do that….”

“Do not tell that to me, princess,” he sighed.

“I need you to get dressed. We have already postponed it, and we cannot do it any longer.”

“Sure,” were her only words to him.

“She called for you, brother,” the right-hand man spoke as he entered the boss’s office, where Yoongi was finally getting ready for the wedding.

“Explain,” the young groom responded while fixing his tux in front of the mirror.

“She called your name when she woke up.”

“Did she?” Yoongi felt a spark of hope that he would indeed become her person, her lover, her everything, just as she was to him.

The right-hand man chuckled at his questioning response, knowing it warmed Yoongi’s heart.

“Damn this one tradition; you should go and see her.”

“I would, but that would ruin the thrill, wouldn’t it, hmm,” he hummed.

“You’re getting married, brother.”

“Yes, today I’m getting married, and tomorrow I have to deal with a man who kidnapped my woman and let the other fucker almost rape her,” Yoongi spat, hitting the wall next to the mirror. He never felt greater anxiety than when Xiaoli said she was taken away from him. How ironic that he is to be the one who feels anxious.

Her mother crying, father screaming at everyone, younger sister praying. Yoongi had a feeling that she would not be that stupid to run away when he had her family inside the hotel.

“Nothing else will go wrong.”

“Did you greet the Yamamotos?” The Yakuza clan was invited to the wedding, a bold move, and what was even bolder—they accepted and arrived.

“I surely did, brother,” said Namjoon.

“Good,” Yoongi smirked, not expecting what is yet to come.

“Everything is as it should be.”

“I don’t want Y/N’s father near her until the wedding, Jungkook-ah,” requested Yoongi from the passive listener, seated just a few meters away on the sofa, sipping on his glass of white liquor.

“As you wish, Hyung,” he put the glass down and stood up, fixing his tux and putting on his white hat.

“And for fuck’s sake, patch those knuckles, aight?” Yoongi screamed playfully after him.

The temple, a sanctuary of weary souls, stood solemnly bearing witness to the union unfolding within its hallowed walls.

The bride, adorned in a crimson hanfu dress, with beautiful shining golden details on her long sleeves, walked the creaking wooden path towards the temple’s entrance, her steps heavy with the knowledge of what is awaiting her. The rich fabric of her dress billowed like a blood-red sea, a stark contrast to the pallor of her face that concealed emotions that dared not surface.

The courtyard was adorned with bright red and white paper lanterns when she passed it. She did not dare to look around at all the noble underground hats who had gathered to witness the union of two syndicates.

The flickering candles cast eerie, dancing shadows upon the ancient murals depicting forgotten legends. The distant sounds of the city, with its bustling streets and restless souls, provided a haunting contrast to the stillness of this timeless ceremony. The soft strains of the gayageum and the rhythmic beats of the janggu filled the air.

At the temple’s altar, the groom, equally somber in attire, awaited the bride. His eyes, like deep pools, hinted at the secrets he carried, secrets buried beneath, he wished to share with her.

The chants of the officiating monk resonated through the temple; a haunting reminder of the spiritual solace sought amidst the chaos of the outside world. Their union was a flicker of defiance against the oppressive forces that sought to extinguish the spirit of a nation. She was not initially meant to be his, fate seemed to have favoured him, and Yoongi thanked the almighty for bringing her to him.

Y/N dared not look at him, her breath unsteady, visible puffs in the cold air. The gal held her head high nonetheless, she was desperately trying not to give in to her intrusive thoughts and turn around, flee for her life, try one last time.

The gun pressed to Daiyu’s back served as a grim reminder, preventing her from succumbing to intrusive thoughts. She could see the tears that were in her eyes as she held tightly her little son. Chan-yeol, held captive and beaten for sins he performed.

The eyes of the guests felt heavy, especially her father’s, still unamused by the young leader’s audacity, keeping his hand tightly on his neck. Forbidden from seeing his own daughter before the ceremony, he seethed with anger, his frustration directed at the young Kkangpae.

Y/N’s heartbeat echoed loudly as she climbed the stairs to stand face-to-face with Yoongi, trying to find the courage to look at him. His eyes were full of expectations, he was waiting for this moment.

The exchange of bows signified respect and commitment. If this would be a traditional wedding, not minding their social status in the syndicates, they would continue with drinking rice wine sikhye, symbolizing the blending of their lives.

But this was not a common wedding. This ceremony was different. Altered by the traditions of the Min Clan. The moment arrived when Y/N extended her palm to take the knife from Yoongi’s hands. A cup of rice wine awaited underneath, capturing every drop of her blood. Their union, a pledge of loyalty through soul, blood, and mind.

Y/N met Yoongi’s eyes as she applied pressure to the hand holding the knife, slicing through his skin. A sadistic flicker seemed to pass through his eyes, as if he was enjoying the pain she was inflicting on him.

The rice wine now mixed with their blood and the heavy silence was driving Y/N mad.

The young Kkangpae lifted the cup to her lips, her eyes locked with Yoongi’s. Observing his actions closely, she followed suit, and he took a far bigger sip than her, almost devouring it all.

Setting the cup down they both extended their wounded hands. The golden wedding band that Yoongi slipped onto her finger, seemed to match her engagement ring that sat before it, closer to her knuckle. Y/N couldn’t stop looking at her hand. This was an explicit symbol of her being a taken woman now. No one else to touch, to have, and in their world — to own.

“Darling,” Yoongi whispered quietly, but still managed to keep the demand in his tone visible. Y/N shook her head to get herself to think straight again, realising she had lingered too long on the rings, delaying the public ceremony’s final step.

Huffing out collected air, she slipped the wedding band onto Yoongi’s finger, uniting them.

The monk placed a thick crimson ribbon over their hands, proclaiming them man and wife. No vows echoed like in the far west, no intimate encounters within the public ceremony, despite Yoongi’s yearning to press his lips against hers.

Y/N knew very well that her father scoffed and cursed at the young leader yet again for choosing to follow his wedding traditions and not theirs. And ultimately, there was no paying respect to the elders.

Kkangpae does not bow down to anyone. Nor will his new bride.

Y/N was especially glad she does not have to do that nor the tea ceremony she always found dull. Not that she particularly enjoyed being controlled and swept by the demands of Yoongi’s clan.

The monk’s chants grew louder again, filling the temple with an eerie resonance. Y/N and Yoongi turned to face the gathered members of their syndicates, their families, and the underworld elite who had come to witness this union.

The banquet that followed was a lavish affair as is fit for the Min clan. The tables groaned under the weight of sumptuous dishes, and the air filled with the tantalizing aroma of delicacies prepared by the finest chefs. Nonetheless, Y/N could sense the atmosphere that was charged with tension. As if everyone was prepared to cast guns and kill each other.

Y/N felt the weight of her father’s glare before she could see him eye to eye. Her mimicry has shown nothing more but pure disgust when Wang Zemo shook the scarred leader’s hand congratulating them on their marriage. Y/N did not trust her father. His judgment was always clouded by power.

“You do not seem pleased, father,” Y/N remarked, exposing him. Her mother nervously laughed, hoping to prevent a disturbance between the two clans. She eyed him, expecting an answer from him.

“I’m not pleased that your husband allowed you to be kidnapped,” he retorted, making Yoongi squeeze Y/N’s hip, a possessive gesture.

“But he aided a rescue team in no time, daddy. Meanwhile, you could not even keep me at home,” Y/N fired back, laughing in her father’s face, not believing her own words defended the young Kkangpae that was now amusingly smirking next to her. She could see how her father’s brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, fuming at his daughter. Y/N can do that now, she does not owe her father loyalty anymore.

Her mother stopped him before he could raise his hand causing commotion within the two clans, instead he lifted his free arm pointing a warning finger at her. Y/N smiled sweetly and watched her mother pull his arm until he walked with her. Only when he was far away did she ask her new husband.

“Did he give you trouble when you asked for Xiaoli’s hand in marriage on behalf of Taehyung?” The young leader only hummed in response, his eyes were focused on something different from her now, and Y/N could not help but turn her head in the same direction as he was looking.

What unsettled her the most was the presence of Yamamotos. Yoongi nor anyone did not mention single tweet about these poisonous guests. Therefore, she felt her stomach rotate when they were approaching and for the first time in forever, Y/N pressed herself closer to Yoongi, intertwining their fingers together.

Of course, she feared them. She always viewed her father’s tactics and measures quite cruel. But if Wang Zemo was cruel than Yamamoto was brutal. And it was only natural to fear such a brutal syndicate as Yakuza.

“Congratulations, Min,” said the older male in Japanese. He did not bother to speak the tongue of his enemy’s territory, but he knew they would understand perfectly. The man had such a strong and intense aura around him. He ruled with fear, that thing was obvious.

He held his hand to Yoongi who accepted it for both your and his behalf, shaking it with firm grip, piercing his eyes alongside.

“You got yourself a fine woman, Min, —” he leered at Y/N, his gaze filled with hunger. A wave of disgust washed over her.

“She has caused you quite a bit of trouble, has she not?” he continued, finishing his remark. Y/N understood that their marriage was a calculated move that would redefine the power dynamics within the criminal underworld. Whether Yamamoto perceived the Mins as a threat remained an assumption on her part.

“Not as much trouble as you sending that foolish boy to his death,” Yoongi added, causing Y/N’s breath to hitch. Slowly, her eyes lifted to Yoongi, whose gaze now held an intensity that made the scar glow with anger. Y/N did not understand any bit of it. Had he not come willingly? No, that simply cannot be, there had to be an ulterior motive to commit such a sin.

“Certainly, we knew you would handle him and your bride just as you saw fit.”

“Surely, —” Yoongi replied with a dark undertone and a sinister smile. A wave of nausea rolled through Y/N. If they lingered in the presence of the Japanese Yakuza any longer, she might empty her stomach right there. Thankfully, they bid a seemingly cordial farewell, leaving to take their seats behind the tables and Y/N could at least breathe out.

“Yoongi—” she began once they were out of earshot. He cast her a brief glance before pivoting to examine her, noting her even paler face.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she stumbled the words out of her system fast. Y/N released Yoongi’s hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh God,” her sister’s whisper reached her ears, a reminder of their public setting, alerting her that she is still in public, and the eyes will pry.

Y/N swiftly walked — not ran, to avoid drawing attention — towards the nearest door leading outside to the cold. Once in the cold air again, she emptied her stomach.

“It’s okay,” Y/N heard her sister’s voice yet again, just before her hands were soothingly rubbing her back. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe the cold air in. She was grateful it was her sister offering comfort, not the groom. At least Xiaoli realized that Y/N wouldn’t want Yoongi to see her now. Nor any other prying eyes.

“It’s not okay, Xiaoli,” said Y/N through tears, feeling a profound, heart-wrenching anxiety and fear settling in her core.

“They fucking sent him to rape me, and God knows what else.”

“And he did not manage to do that. Hoseok took care of that. Jungkook took care of that, —”

Y/N recalled, her mind flashing to Jungkook storming into her room, his concern evident as he bombarded her with questions about her well-being. Guilt weighed on him for getting entangled with Chan-yeol instead of going straight to her. As her new brother, he felt an obligation to protect her, just like Hoseok, who would go to any lengths for her.

And that leaves Y/N to wonder. She pondered the sincerity behind their sympathy. Was it because of her supposed relationship with their brother, or was there a genuine connection forming? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if her aunt sensed the potential for them to become family, to be her home.

“—Leader Min will see to it that he is brought to justice,” Xiaoli continued, always sure to express her love for Yoongi.

Y/N looked down at her stained dress with a sense of pity, both for herself and the situation. A deep sense of sadness remained.

“I just wish it did not have to be this way,” she confessed, her voice filled with sorrow. “I wish I could have chosen this path for myself, rather than having it forced upon me.”

“But this is not the world or lifetime where you could do that,” her sister replied, and for a brief moment, Y/N felt a glimmer of understanding.

“I know,” she whispered quietly. “He used to be my friend; you know. Despite what he did, I never thought he would die in front of my eyes, —” her words held honesty, tinged with something else.

“And I never thought that I would be relieved they came in time and shot him dead, Xiaoli,” Y/N admitted, finally getting it off her chest.

“Taehyung-oppa said they paid him to do it.” Xiaoli disclosed. Y/N dreaded this scenario; she suspected that Chen did not act out of love for her. No one who loved someone would commit such a horrendous act.

Y/N scoffed, a desperate laugh escaping her. “Do you know what will happen to Chan-yeol?” She hadn’t had the chance to discuss this with Yoongi, leaving her in the dark and feeling consumed by it.

“He is held captive. That is all I know,” Xiaoli replied while helping Y/N stand. She needed to change her dress; there was no way she could return in this state.

“Y/N?” Xiaoli asked. Her older sister only hummed in response.

“If you attempt to run ever again, Daiyu is going to die—” Y/N paused for a moment.

“—He won’t hurt me, I’ll be betrothed to Taehyung-oppa. But Daiyu is still in the open.”

“Did you talk to her?” She asked.

“No,” Xiaoli replied, “but I talked to Kkangpae Min. He confirmed his intentions.”

“And it did not move you one bit?” Said Y/N surprised with what degree of calmness her sister is speaking of this.

Yoongi wanted to make it abundantly clear that he would take drastic measures if she attempted to escape again. He wanted her to fear the consequences, to be consumed by the dread of what might happen if she defied him; deliberately informing Xiaoli, knowing the bond between the sisters was a weak point for Y/N.

“I would not dare to go against his word.” Y/N only smiled sadly at her sister’s words. She does not understand. How could she?

The way to her chamber felt endless. Y/N was acutely aware of her disheveled state and the need for privacy. Another set of footsteps behind her and Xiaoli quickened her heart with anxiety.

“Y/N?” The soothing voice of the doctor, Seokjin, reached her ears, and she could not have been more relieved. Without turning around, she responded.

“I just need to change. I’m fine, Seokjin.”

Y/N wasted no time in stepping inside her room once they finally reached it. Seokjin followed, his demeanour calm and professional, yet she sensed a hint of concern in his eyes.

As she began changing out of the crimson robe from the wedding ceremony, Y/N couldn’t deny the unease that lingered within her.

“You can tell him I will be back in a little while, Seokjin.” Y/N turned to Seokjin, offering a weak smile.

“Are you sure you are feeling well?” Seokjin nodded; his expression was gentle.

“It’s just the anxiety.” Said Y/N. Her face still bore the traces of tears and turmoil, but she resolved to face the celebration with as much grace as she could muster. She knew that in the world she inhabited, appearances were everything.

Seokjin stood by the door, waiting patiently. “I’ll change and come right away,” she promised to the older male.

“Very well,” he answered simply and closed the door behind him leaving her and Xiaoli alone.

The intricate layers of fabric and silk were carefully removed, revealing a simpler, yet equally elegant, hanfu beneath — this one was a shade of soft lavender.

“Do you want to wear the hanbok instead?” Xiaoli asked. Does she? Just this morning, she insisted that her wedding dress will be a representation of the culture she is coming from. Looking over at the beautiful crimson and royal blue hanbok that she was supposed to wear as her wedding dress, Y/N hesitated.

“I don’t feel like wearing a wedding dress anymore, Xiaoli.” Her sister nodded in understanding, but beneath her supportive gaze, there lingered a hint of disappointment. Xiaoli had hoped that Y/N would fully embrace the culture of the Min clan, a desire likely shared by the clan’s leader. However, Y/N’s desire was to stay true to her Chinese roots for a little bit longer. If this is the only way she can remain herself, she is willing to rebel against him as long as she can.

She heard her sister sigh as she handed her the crimson flowery qipao. “You could at least meet him in the middle.” Xiaoli muttered, her disappointment evident.

“Xiaoli, if you did not notice I’m having a really bad day today.” Y/N’s patience was wearing thin. She had endured enough turmoil for one day, and the idea of appeasing Yoongi’s wishes no longer held much appeal.

“I understand—” Xiaoli wanted to say before Y/N interrupted her with the welling tears in her eyes and raised voice.

“No, you do not understand, Xiaoli!” Said Y/N, sliding down to a lower cushion chair, hugging her head with her small hands.

“But you are not even trying, Y/N,” Xiaoli retorted.

“Because I’m gasping for air every single time! I’m drowning, and yet I cannot learn to swim—” she cried out, clutching the fabric of her hanfu to the point she feared it would tear.

“All of you are blindly trying to convince me that this is the best that could ever happen to me—” she continued.

“—like you’re some kind of Gods that shall decide one’s fate.”

Xiaoli sighed, her frustration and discomfort evident. “All we do is care for you, truly, madly, deeply.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes filled with a mixture of despair and defiance.

“Are you listening to yourself, sister?!” Y/N did not even give her a chance to answer.

“—We are family, by blood, Xiaoli, I thought you cared about me to be more than just a pawn—” this time Xiaoli interrupted her older sister.

“And because we are family, I am trying to protect what matters to all of us.” Xiaoli knelt beside her, trying to console Y/N.

“What about what matters to me?” Y/N retorted; her voice shaky. “What about my dreams, my choices? He took that from me.”

Xiaoli hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “We all have to make sacrifices. And I know that you will make the best out of this.”

Y/N looked at her sister, a mix of disbelief and sadness in her eyes. “Is this the price of my freedom?”

“If this was another life, you could have what you truly desire.” Said Xiaoli. Y/N wiped away her tears before she spoke.

“I won’t let—” Y/N inquired.

“The consequences will be severe.” Said Xiaoli before Y/N could utter her thought as if she knew what she wanted to say.

“Remember that before you will do anything.”

The distant strains of music and laughter reached their ears when Xiaoli opened the door, walking through it in the direction of the celebration. Y/N put on a mask of composure, her posture regal, and her expression neutral. She couldn’t let anyone see the turmoil within her. Tonight, she would play the role expected of her, all while strategizing her next moves in this complex and dangerous game.

“Min Buin?!” a voice called out, unfamiliar and tinged with a strange mixture of reverence and unease — it sent a shiver down her spine.

A man stood right in the middle of the hall behind her. He was dressed in a dark, tailored suit that exuded authority, a stark departure from the opulence of the occasion.

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder who this enigmatic figure was and why he had singled her out with that title,

“Min Buin?!” He repeated again. Y/N turned her head slightly to Xiaoli, now a few steps closer to the banquet, her expression wary.

“Who’s asking?” she demanded, a hint of protectiveness in her voice. The man did not seem to be perturbed by Y/N’s defensive stance. Instead, he offered a faint, cryptic smile.

“Do you not know?” His tone took a different direction. He stepped closer to them.

“Y/N,” Xiaoli gulped down, her voice trembling. “That is Yamamoto Itsuki.” By how her sister spoke Y/N understood that this is the very man she was supposed to marry.

“Go.” She whispered to her sister who did not hesitate to run down the corridor and alert anyone. Only once Y/N was sure that her sister was far away did she speak.

“What is your business with me?” Y/N asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. The man’s smile widened slightly, revealing teeth that seemed unnaturally sharp in the dim light.

“Business?” He laughed. Y/N’s mind raced as she absorbed his words. She had been thrust into this world, initially a pawn in a dangerous game, but now it seemed that her role was evolving.

“I have unfinished business with you, yes.” He said after a few silent moments. Only her heavy breathing could be heard.

“I’m very much sure that a business between us never started in the first place; therefore, it seems to me we have nothing to talk about,” said Y/N, swiftly turning her body back to its original position, ready to flee to the banquet and seek help.

As she predicted, this day could only get worse as she found herself pinned to the nearest wall. Y/N could feel his breath on her face, a strong large hand enveloped her throat, pressing her to the wall harder and making it hard to breathe. Y/N’s breathing skipped intervals.

“You are one greedy ungrateful little bitch, are you not?” He spat the words into her face, squeezing her neck even tighter. Her hands automatically rose to his arm, trying to push him away. Her head started to spin, and she could feel the redness that rushed to her cheeks as she gasped for air that would fill her lungs.

“You were supposed to be mine!” His scream echoed in the empty corridor. Out of all the endings of her life, she truly did not foresee this one. There was a strike of a quick moment where she thought that death would be her redemption and eternal freedom she wished for. However, Y/N still had the will to fight for her life. She dug her nails into his arm, trying to push his hand away one more time, but he was too strong.

A click of a reloading gun seemed too muffled for her ears to notice, but when the sudden absence of pressure on her throat disappeared, and she could finally welcome the air in, she thanked God for being still in his favour.

Her knees have denounced their service, and she found herself on the ground. She went to touch her sore throat when a familiar hand did it before her. Y/N’s breath was still rocky, and she heard an annoying ringing in her ears. She barely could hear what Yoongi was screaming at the man who was recently near killing her.

“Y/N?” She heard Jimin’s voice, but she could not figure out where it was coming from. Her head was spinning like a carousel, and her vision was still a bit blurry. She wanted to speak up but she found it hard to do so.

“Can you breathe for me, darling?” She tried to stabilize her breathing but couldn’t stop panting for air.

“You have to try and calm down.” Seokjin was speaking to her, and by her blurry vision she saw another four figures around her. Two holding the younger Yamamoto for Yoongi, the other two attending to her.

Y/N went to try to speak again, even though she was fully aware that only high-pitched tones would come out that would make her words unrecognisable.

“I—” she tried, “I want—” she finally gulped down the little amount of saliva she had in her mouth.

“Bring her water right now.” Seokjin understood quickly. Her hearing was coming back to life and same for her vision. She could now see Jungkook and Hoseok dragging the man away from them, and Yoongi swiftly turning to examine the damage the man had done to his beloved.

By the time he fell down to his knees, cupping her cheeks, trying to read from her eyes, Jimin had returned with the water she needed. Yoongi helped her to hold the glass in both of her hands and drink it whole in one go.

“I do not want to stay here tonight,” she said with a raspy voice, feeling every muscle in her throat. Yoongi looked at her with worry in his eyes. He promised she would be safe with him, and within less than twelve hours, she was abducted, almost raped, and nearly choked to death.

“I am so sorry, baby,” said the young leader with remorse. “I am going to make it better, I promise.” Y/N’s ‘better’ however, contained something else than his ‘better’.

“We cannot leave right away—” tears escaped her eyes, falling heavy and hot on her dress. Yoongi was the Kkangpae and the enemy’s clan member just assaulted his wife. This cannot slip out without consequences.

“How dare you disrespect me and my wife this way,” said Yoongi to the older male from Yamamoto’s clan who had barely sat down in Yoongi’s office.

The younger offender, who had laid his hand on Y/N, was still firmly held by Hoseok and Jungkook. She sat in Yoongi’s office chair, a blanket draped over her shoulders, the purple bruises on her neck stark against her skin, certainly not flattering jewelry.

“How dare you disrespect our clan, Kkangpae Min.” The older male retorted, testing the younger leader’s patience. Yoongi clenched his hand into a fist, struggling to maintain control.

“This is far too unforgivable against what you assume I did,” he spat out quickly. Y/N wished she could just hide away and never come back, but as the Kkangpae’s wife, a Buin, she had to be present.

Yamamoto scoffed. “You are playing the game dirty, so are we—”

“Take this as a payback for meddling in our affairs, Kkangpae Min—” the older male started.

“And as far as traditions goes, she is yet to be your woman by our law and God’s will,” alluding to the inevitable — they had to consummate the marriage. Y/N knew this and had been making peace with the fact throughout the day.

“You won’t have to worry about that, Mr. Yamamoto,” Yoongi was always known for his cockiness whilst dealing with enemies, but he was also the most cautious man alive, however today was a misstep he did not wish to ever make. All this only proved he could not leave her alone — not because she might flee, but because someone could take her away from him. And he would never let her go.

“Watch me fucking continue meddling—” Yoongi retorted. “I see that you know the goddamn rules; I shall have his hand.” Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. She did not expect him to go unpunished for what he did to her, which would make Yoongi look unfit to rule. Itsuki started to squirm in their hold, attempting to break free.

“You want a war?” Yamamoto asked with venom in his voice.

“You apparently desire to have it when you assaulted my wife twice in one day.” Yoongi spat and signaled to Hoseok to bring Itsuki forward. Jungkook grabbed the hand that had been on Y/N’s neck less than an hour ago.

“Father!” Itsuki screamed with madness in his voice.

“Here you have it, you impatient imbecile!” his father screamed back at him, frustrated with both himself and his son. The plan had been to warn the Mins, not infuriate them.

Y/N watched Yoongi wordlessly as he took a short katana from Namjoon who appeared out of nowhere. The blade was sharp as a viper’s fang, and it gleamed in the dim light sourcing from the fireplace. The hilt, wrapped in silk, the colour of dried blood, felt cool and ominous in Yoongi’s hand.

She knew he’d have to swing it more than once to actually cut off Itsuki’s hand. Y/N gulped down her fear, pressing both hands to her mouth to stifle the scream that escaped when he first wielded the blade, piercing through Itsuki’s skin and colliding with bone, breaking it open. Burgundy blood streamed down to the wooden floor. Y/N clenched her eyes shut at the painful scream that followed and bounced slightly on the chair at the loud thump of the hand hitting the ground.

“You have one hour to leave our land,” Yoongi declared, aiming the katana at the leading Yamamoto. The son dropped to the ground, cradling his arm, staring at the severed hand and screaming in pain, muttering threats to the Min clan.

“You chose.” The older male looked over to Y/N who was still very much speechless and in utter shock from what occurred before her eyes. Yoongi’s gaze, momentarily lingering on his wife with furrowed brows, but quickly returned to Yamamoto. Their eyes locked, and the older man extended his hand to retrieve his injured son from the floor, leading him out of the room.

Yoongi dropped the katana onto the ground, tilting his head backwards in a brief prayer to the Lord. The room remained cloaked in heavy silence — not a peaceful silence, but one pregnant with the weight of a grim decision. A choice had been made, and its consequences were bound to unfold in darkness. This was a proclamation of war.

Y/N’s eyes remained fixed on the spot where Yamamoto’s hand was laying limp in a pool of fresh blood. As Yoongi straightened and turned his gaze toward her, his eyes were a tempest of conflicting emotions.

“You chose.”

Yoongi echoed Yamamoto’s words more as a question, his voice carrying a low, sombre resignation. He did not demand an answer; he knew what Yamamoto was talking about. Glancing down at his black shoes, now soaked with the blood of his enemy, Yoongi let out a soft laugh at the irony of her choosing him.

He understood the possibility that her choice might stem from self-preservation, realizing he could annihilate her entire family the moment she disappeared. Yet, his own selfishness shielded him from that harsh reality. Yoongi desperately wanted to believe that she returned to him and him alone.

Her eyes grew too heavy to stay open during the car ride back to the sanctuary. She allowed them a brief respite, letting the weight of exhaustion pull her into a momentary rest. The events of this day had been like a tempest, tearing through the delicate fabric of her reality and leaving chaos in its wake.

Y/N’s strength was something Yoongi admired, yet even he recognized the toll this day had taken on her. The hypocrite in him thinking that kind of evil will lead her to seek solace in him, perhaps finding that this was where she truly belonged — by his side.

She could have turned and run when the chance presented itself, disappearing into the wild. But she did not, and that is what mattered to Yoongi. For the first time, Y/N found herself yearning to return to the sanctuary, back to her golden cage.

Y/N knew that this night would be a reflection of the complexities of their relationship, a dance between desire and the darkness that surrounded them. Y/N understood that despite the arduous day, this had to be done. Bracing herself, she stepped out of the car and into the dark.

She walked slightly behind her now husband, letting him lead the way to the house she did not quite recognise. Before she mustered the courage to ask questions, he spoke first.

“I grew up in this house—” he whispered into the cold air, “a hot spring is right behind it.”

Y/N observed the house built into the massive stone walls of the valley, surrounded by tall pine trees. It was too dark for her to see just how tall they actually are, but the little flickering lights visible through the windows granted her a little peak.

“I want to spend tonight with you here,” he turned to face her. Yoongi could not tear his gaze away from her, adoring every detail—her eyes, cheeks, nose, hair, mouth. But if you would ask him, how did he come to be so obsessed with her, he would not give a cohesive answer. The inexplicable obsession he felt seemed right, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. He believed that even if she did not feel it now, she would eventually.

“Just the two of us.”

He took a little step to be closer to her. If Y/N understood correctly, this is the only place where they can be truly alone without prying eyes and ears. Yoongi wanted to talk and what’s more, he intended to do more than just talk tonight.

“Aight,” she replied slowly with her still sore throat. He had never seen her this calm, and he wanted to enjoy every minute she is not fighting against him — despite the disturbing circumstances that led to her current state of mind.

“Can we have some tea first?” she asked with little hope that he would agree to slow down a little bit. He chuckled at her sudden innocence and extended his arm to caress her cheek.

“Course we can, my love,” he smiled softly.

And so, they found themselves once again by the comforting embrace of a fireplace, patiently waiting for the tea to brew in the teapot’s gentle whistle.

There was something about this scenery that Yoongi could not help but love. Y/N, seated on the fur rug next to the warmth of the crackling flames, found solace in these quiet moments. After the tumultuous events of the day, it was a sanctuary they both needed. At least, she felt at peace in moments like these.

“I am sorry.” he suddenly confessed, his eyes revealing the genuine sorrow within. Today had left Yoongi conflicted, riding the highs of marrying the woman he desired while being weighed down by guilt for the day’s events.

Y/N met his gaze, her voice devoid of emotion as she calmly asked, “About what exact part?”

“All of it,” he shook his head. Y/N chuckled, and confusion flickered in Yoongi’s eyes.

“Are you not going to punish me, Kkangpae?” Here she goes.

“I do desire to know your relation to the boy, I won’t lie, but no.”

“There is no relation.”

“Are you sure? We talked about this already — no lies.”

“I’m not lying, he did fancy me, yes—” Yoongi’s grip on his hands tightened.

“—I thought we were friends, but he was not keen to flee away with me when I needed to,” she admitted.

“Do you mourn him?” Yoongi’s voice held a serious tone.

“I mourn the boy he was, not what he apparently became after we parted—” she began, carefully, collecting her thoughts.

“—they paid him to go and attempt rape me, Yoongi. I pray for his soul to find its peace after what sins he committed,” a tear escaped her eye, a sob followed. Yoongi leaned in, holding her small hands in an attempt to provide comfort.

“It was horrible,” she cried out and finally, she opened up to him.

“Amidst all the bad today, I’m so proud of you—” Y/N raised her blurry eyesight to meet him, awaiting an explanation.

“—You could have run, and you did not. You chose to come back to me.”

“I promise, I swear to you — I will never ever let that happen again—” he assured, moving closer to her.

She took a deep breath, summoning the courage to address the yet unspoken. “Can I get the letter, please?” Y/N whispered.

“In the morning.” He answered, intending to prolong it to ensure her continued good behaviour and obedience.

“Do we?-” She interrupted, praying for a change of his mind, though fully aware of the inevitability. He needed to ensure no loopholes in their marriage for others to exploit or for her to negotiate over. She knows this is mandatory.

“Yes, we do,” he acknowledged after some thought. Knowing what she had been through that day, he recognised the potential impact, but he also saw it as a way to fully claim her. It was a selfish desire, perhaps, but one he had long awaited.

Yoongi longed to feel her skin to skin. It was indeed selfish, he knew that much. Some would say it is careless of him to demand such an intimate act to happen after all she has been through. But he wanted to show her that this is a part of their marriage she can truly enjoy. Yoongi wanted to give a final full stop to their relationship by solidifying the union rightfully, as the tradition goes.

The flickering flames of the fireplace danced in the dimly lit room, casting a warm glow upon Y/N and Yoongi. Consummating the marriage was a private but necessary measure.

His selfishness had not gone unnoticed by the syndicate elders, who questioned his insistence on not just any hotel room but the house where generations of memories had been created. He deliberately wanted to spend the night in the house he grew up in, where his father started a family, and his grandfather, and his grandfather and so on down the history line.

Yoongi, having lost his parents at a young age, yearned to start his own family. He wanted to witness the growth of his children, their marriages, and their own families.

Y/N knew this day would come, sooner or later, and as a young woman, she had learnt to protect herself from unplanned consequences. She understood his desire for a child, though he never explicitly discussed it with her. But she was far from being ready to surrender to the life fate had planned for her, not just yet.

Heaven had given her a sign, a slight hope when she found a particular herb in the garden before the first snow fell. Y/N had kept it discreet, asking the maid to dry the flowers and serve them as tea in the morning. Tonight, she was calm, knowing it could not happen, even if he wished otherwise.

Yoongi observed her hesitance, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and resilience. The room, with its walls that held generations of memories, seemed to echo with the weight of tradition and expectation. But as he reached out to touch her cheek gently, his eyes softened.

The sharp sound of a loud whistle from the tea kettle startled them both, tearing them out of the cocoon of their thoughts. The iron kettle hung gracefully over the open flame, steam rising in wisps as if trying to escape the weight of the night. Yoongi carefully prepared the tea, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The aroma of freshly brewed leaves filled the air. The porcelain teapot, an heirloom passed down through generations, sat patiently on the wooden small table that was next to them. As he poured the tea into delicate cups, he eyed her small physique yet again, searching for any signs.

She accepted the cup he offered her, the warmth seeping through the delicate porcelain. Her mind briefly paused when she recognised the familiar scent. She chuckled and Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise, awaiting her words. Y/N took a few careful sips from the cup, accepting what it offered.

“Are you afraid, Kkangpae?” She asked, taking another sip. Yoongi put his cup on the wooden table and looked directly in her eyes.

“Me? No,” he pointed at himself, hiding a smile.

“So why did you choose to make tea from Valerian root?” Her studies that surely included herbalism had escaped Yoongi’s mind.

“I knew this night would be difficult for you, and I — I wanted to ensure it went as smoothly as possible,” he confessed.

“Considerate,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. Yoongi’s gaze faltered, and he looked away momentarily.

“I want you to enjoy it—”

“Then make me enjoy it,” she interrupted him yet again, gulping down the contents of her cup, setting it down with a gentle clink next to his almost full one.

“I intend to,” he said. The complexities of tradition, the weight of the syndicate expectations, seemed to press down on them like the heavy beams of the hanok. Yet, he was thrilled at the prospect of laying her down and making love to her, while she tried to make peace with the path ahead.

A mixture of emotions played across Y/N’s face, the tension in the air made her anxious. The tea flowed in her system, calming her. The steps were set, and she cannot back down now.

His hands cradled her face, a gesture that held both tenderness and an unspoken understanding. But Y/N knows he will never understand. And thus, the night unfolded.

The hanok, with its wooden beams and paper windows, seemed to breathe with the rhythm of their footsteps. The aroma of tea still lingered within the walls, all the way back in the house.

“Pray with me?” a soft plea that resonated with the hallowed surroundings. They settled on top of the low cushion bed; he held both her hands in his. The subtle sounds of the valley outside, muffled by the hanji-covered windows, crackling fire nearby — the low hum of their shared prayer filled the room, blending with the whispers of the winter wind outside.

As they concluded their prayers, the world outside the hanok continued its silent ballet with nature. Yoongi slowly let her hands fall into her lap. Y/N kept looking at her hands, biting her lower lip.

He extended his hands pulling out the golden pins from her hair, releasing them.

“You are magnificent,” he whispered into her lips that were anticipating his. She looked into his eyes one last time before she slowly closed them, awaiting him to take the first step. Y/N could feel both his hands on the swell of her bottom, slightly squeezing it and thus making her pant into his mouth. He pulled her into his lap, not distancing their close proximity. Not now. Not ever.

A deep groan released from his throat when she fully sat down in his lap. Y/N was straddling him, feeling his stiff manhood tightly pressed against her core making her breath hitch. He moved his hand from its place on her butt cheek to the swell of her clothed breast.

“Let me make love to you.” He kissed her lips very gently, waiting for her response. She knew he would do so even if she would not give him her consent. And once she shyly nodded her head, he dove right in and kissed her very deeply, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He was hungry and only she could sate him.

He continued to press himself against her core, creating at least some friction in between, aiming to hit the right spot and make her sing for him.

Yoongi was trying to trace down the opening of her qipao, feeling the delicately made buttons on her chest. Not for a moment he stopped kissing her, unbuttoning her dress and hiking it up from its hem on her thighs, showing her undergarments and pulling it all the way up her head —throwing the peace of clothing that provided her warmth, perhaps even a security blanket, away.

Her neck was his next target. He bent his head making hers to lean back to allow him access. Yoongi layered down butterfly kisses all over her, now, naked, bruised neckline. “You are such a good girl.” He muttered into her skin, caressing her bottom while he placed his hand back to her right breast.

Y/N could feel her nipples stiffen under the change of temperature, or perhaps the excitement her body was going through, which she did not want to admit. He took one of her hands who were inactive till now and placed it on his chest near the small buttons of his shirt. Trying to send a mental message for her to touch him too — undress him too.

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to come to her senses. Out of this ectasis. But she could not. His work on her neck was becoming troublesome, not mentioning his roaming hands. She was never touched by man lovingly, but she could not deny that he is making her heart skip just by teasing her.

Her small shaky fingers finally reached to the buttons whilst he was abusing her chest with hot kisses. She unbuttoned the first one, then the second until she reached the last. “That’s it baby.” He encouraged her to continue slipping his shirt down from his body.

He straightened himself and looked deeply into her eyes, his voice filled with desire and longing. “I love you.” Said Yoongi when he slowly slid his hand in between them cupping her clothed heat. Millions of little butterflies erupted in her lower belly, her breath hitched, silent moan coming out of her swollen lips when he started to rub circles, moving her clitoris through the fabric. She could feel herself leaning into him, her body responding to his touch.

The room was filled with an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. He caressed her back until he reached the opening of her western style cone bra that she wore under the dress. Popping it open her eyes snapped open too. But the pleasure was overshadowing her sound judgment, and he knew she would at some point try to resent him a little, that’s why he did not hesitate to throw it the same direction as her qipao, not wasting time and taking her already hard nipple into his mouth. Her eyes widened; pupils dilated.

He was taking his sweet time loving her every inch before he laid her down on the bed, hovering above her. Dominating her. Yoongi’s hands moved with a gentle urgency, his kisses becoming more fervent as their passion ignited. He hooked his fingers into her undergarments, not giving her a chance to protest when he quickly pulled them down her legs, tepid air hitting her centre.

It’s when he went to spread her legs touching her knees she took his wrist into her small hand, looking deep down into his eyes, tears swelling in, realisation hitting her. Yoongi did not seem to be angry or displeased. He understood why this action triggered her and therefore he led her hands to his belt, giving her a chance to yet again give him her consent to proceed. He wanted her to fall in love with him, not to fear him. He dreaded the day when he will have to use different measures to convince, she is his woman and no one else can touch her.

The little rat was a big mistake. Yoongi did not expect him to go as far as to attempt to rape her. But he knew that the boy was coming. He knew it’s Yakuza’s move, and he knew when they would strike,and he was ready. What he wasn’t ready for was Chan-yeol’s betrayal. Nobody is betraying Kkangpae Min, nor no one will dare to touch his wife after what he will do to the traitor.

“You’re alright, baby.” He attempted to assure her, putting her small hands on his belt. Y/N’s fingers were yet again shaking when she was undoing his belt. She was now fully aware of her laying naked body. She could feel the goosebumps forming on her skin.

As Yoongi’s belt came undone, he couldn’t help but marvel at the strength and resilience that radiated from her. She had endured so much in such a short span of time, yet here she was, willingly surrendering herself to him.

He pulled down the pants, together with his undergarments. A loud thud followed once they fell down to the floor. He bent down to her belly and placed a small kiss just below her belly button and one slightly lower to her yet uninhabited womb.

“I need to help you relax your muscles a little.” Said he. She felt his hot breath on her inner thighs, shaking in his hold. He slid his hand down to her core yet again, touching her without any barrier for the first time. Y/N took a deep breath and another one when he slid his finger down her folds and up, making her pussy produce wet juices. His lips were on her collarbone when he unexpectedly slid his index finger inside her making her moan loudly, yelp even.

“Shhh…” He cooked at her, kissing her lips passionately, while thrusting his finger slowly in and out of her heat. She could feel a prick of pain in the area Yoongi’s finger occupied. Y/N’s moans became a mix of moderate pain and pleasure altogether.

She could feel his other hand move away from caressing her hip to his member which he started to slowly stroke. Y/N could see that he was more than ready — his cock big, stiff and red, pre-cum leaking from its tip. He wanted to dive into her heat badly. But he needed to stretch her out a little more, so she won’t suffer that much pain. Yoongi smiled when he spotted her eyeing his body through half-lidded eyes, panting, yet being focused specifically on his manhood.

He towered above her, pulling his finger out of her heat. Sudden emptiness surrounded her walls that were finally adjusting to the intruder. She gasped when she felt his hands pulling her closer to him. Her legs were on each side of his hips. Y/N observed his body, his toned skin, slight muscles, his well-built torso — all the way down his V line, adorned with soft hair.

She snapped out of her thought train once he climbed on top of her and pressed his manhood in between her folds, sliding it up and down, covering it in her juices. Moan escaped her mouth once he put a little bit of pressure, stimulating her clitoris. He moved his hips slowly, trying to hold himself to not to thrust it in just yet.

He raised his left hand and intertwined his fingers with hers pinning it above her head while attacking her lips again. Y/N’s hand instinctively slapped his chest trying to push him away just a little, but his little smirk into her lips assured her that he wanted that kind of reaction from her.

And when she awaited it the least, he thrust himself into her, making her bite down his lower lip. He groaned at the sensation. His lip was bleeding, but he could not care less. “No—” She let go of his lip and an incoherent sound came out of her throat, eyes welling up with tears.

“Yoongi, it hurts too much.” She stated the obvious, crying whilst trying to breath. Enormous heat wave just hit her, and she was desperately wanting to make her head stop spinning.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispered into her lips, trying to take his own breathing under control. She feels like heaven to him. His everlasting home. His love. This is where he was supposed to be all his life.

He tried to move very slowly, making her cry even more, but he couldn't stop. “It will stop I promise.” He kissed her tears away, stretching her walls to the fullest with his manhood. Silently moaning into her lips.

It took quite a while for her to adjust to the stretch and tension, fullness inside of her. Yoongi explored every inch of her naked body, his hands caressing her with a gentleness that belied his previous actions. In this moment, she was not defined by the traumas of her past or the expectations of their marriage. Their bodies moved in perfect sync once the pain yielded a little.

The room was filled with the sounds of their mingled loud moans and the crackling of the fire. The warmth of the fireplace mirrored the growing heat between them, intensifying the pleasure that coursed through their veins.

Yoongi’s movements became a little faster, more deliberate to draw as much pleasure from her as he could. He wanted to show her that their union was not solely physical but a one of love. With each whisper of reassurance and each gentle caress, he aimed to erase any lingering fears and insecurities that she held.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy after a while, he could feel her shaking against him. But not from fear but from pleasure. He mustered what he could to take her over the edge for the very first time in her life. Y/N could feel the butterflies in her stomach tying somewhat knot that she wanted them to release badly. Her hand slipped into his hair, tucking it tightly whilst he was thrusting into her heat, making her moan loudly into his mouth. He was very close, but he wanted her to come with her. And as they were reaching the peak of passion, their bodies trembling with pleasure, Yoongi held Y/N close, their hearts beating in sync.

Their moans became louder and louder every second they were nearing the summit. “Yoongi—!” she screamed his name out when she was sure the knot was about to burst. “Baby—” he could not even finish a sentence he meant to say once she came undone under him, trembling from the pleasure, her mouth agape, eyes tightly closed — her walls still vibrating around him. Not even a second later his loud cry followed as he spilled thick ropes of cum inside of her. His eyes closed, and he was breathing heavily. When he opened his eyes, she was already looking at him, her mouth still slightly open as she was panting. Her eyes seemed glossy but so were his. He caressed the side of her thigh whilst gently kissing her swollen lips, whispering how much he loves her.

Slowly pulling out of her heat, substituting with his fingers plunging his cum mixed with hints for crimson blood, back into her heat he lowered his body yet again to her belly. Kissing where he assumed her womb was, he whispered a prayer.

“May the Lord bless us with a miracle.”

I N T E R L O G U E

The father’s rage reverberated in the confined space of the car. “You could not have just fucking waited, you little prick!” his frustration boiling over.

Still grappling with the pain of his missing arm, the one-handed son shot back defiantly, blood seeping through the bandages “You said everything would work out in our favour!”

The car they were sitting in was slowing down until it stopped altogether. The older male looked around in confusion. They were nowhere near the docks for their escape to Fukuoka.

“It would if you’d just shut your damn cock instincts, you stupid boy!” the Yakuza leader hissed, attempting to keep his anger in check.

Blinded by fury, he failed to notice the car taking a series of wrong turns, leading them into a desolate no man’s land. When the driver turned to face them, blood reached his ears.

“Kkangpae Min sends you good wishes on your journey to hell.”

to be continued

©pennyellee. please do not repost

author's note: f finally yall!!!!! as I already said this chapter was a lot, ain't gonna lie about that, but everything is going according to the plan so don't worry. This was my first smut in english and I'm so scared of yall's reaction... Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, it was an emotional roller-coaster to write, especially the implied non-con and smut after all the reader had to endure, poor gal. I love to see your comments that basically express that you understand the story's essence and for that I love you all so much ♥ We'll see what will happen in next chapter :))

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter! Love you bae!!!!

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17 - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts

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wackapedia · 3 months

Text

Remnant

Vincent Renzi x reader Vincent finds a woman living in Miss Voyter's former chalet and finds a new outlet for his feelings. Wordcount: 1,670 Warnings: Attempt at comedy, one swear word, Anatomy Of A Fall spoilers, ghosts for comedic effect

Vincent sighs and lights a cigarette just as the sun sets behind the mountain. He is sitting in the driver seat of his car, which is parked outside the chalet. It's been empty for months, since Sandra-

Miss Voyter, he corrects himself.

Since Miss Voyter sold the cabin and is turned into some sort of B&B thing just as Samuel intended, she would say.

Miss Voyter and her son moved back to Germany after the case, Vincent remembers. He then wonders why he's parked outside their former chalet.

As of late, he finds himself driving up the uphill road to the cabin, maybe to think or to reminisce. Maybe he's trying to heal from a wound he would never acknowledge.

The lawyer, who is now gaining popularity since that widely-broadcast case, stubs out his cigarette and starts the car. What am I doing here? He mumbles to himself. He tosses the cigarette out the window and moves to start the engine. Someone suddenly shows up by the side of his car.

"Hey, did you just come here to throw your shit? Pick it up!" A woman yells, standing a few paces from his car. Vincent feels embarrassed. He decides to suck it up and apologize.

"Je suis desole, madamoiselle... " He steps out of the car and picks up his rubbish. He then looks up at the woman, who seemed a bit stunned.

He stuffs the stubbed-out cigarette in his pocket and smiles apologetically at the woman. He feels his face heat up.

"I've seen you come here a few times; are you following me?" The woman stumbles through her broken French.

"Oh, no... I'm just..." Vincent doesn't know what to say. "I'm a lawyer." He attempts, as if it explains anything.

"Am I in trouble?" She replies. Vincent tries to take advantage.

"Depends. How long have you lived here?"

"Three weeks. Why?"

"Nothing, Make sure to lock your doors at night."

Vincent tries to escape from the situation he's found himself in. He begins to open his car door and longs to just drive back to the city.

"What? Wait! What do you mean? Is that some sort of threat?" She takes two steps closer to him.

"Threat? No! What do you mean?" Vincent stops. He looks at her, surprised to see her face clearer now that he's up close.

"They say this house is haunted... Someone died here. Is that true?" She whispers, almost afraid to mention it out loud. At this, Vincent chuckles.

"That's just silly." He answers her as he settles himself in the driver's seat.

"Wow, and you think standing outside someone else's house isn't as dumb? You could be a pervert for all I know!" She stands next to his car door, addressing him through the window.

Vincent decides he's tired of defending himself like he's in court. Instead of answering, he hands her his business card.

"You're a lawyer?!" She asks after taking the card in her hands. Vincent offers her a kind smile before starting the car and driving off.

------------

That night, she sits alone in the bedroom of the rented cabin, playing with the lawyer's business card. She still wonders why she felt odd around Mr. Vincent Renzi.

"That guy's probably some sort of stalker..." She jokes to herself, tossing the business card next to her phone as she opens her laptop and types his name on the search bar. Good news! The name matches the face. Bad news: He is featured in a couple of news articles.

She browses through them and reads about the success of his recent case, which happens to be quite popular. It's not bad news after all. Mr. Renzi was defending a woman who was suspected of murdering her husband. She was ruled out because the death was proven to be a suicide.

She goes deep into the research rabbit hole after staring at a couple of photos of the said lawyer taken from press release interviews. She then discovers that the scene of the crime was the house she was staying in at the present. She then organizes her thoughts after reading through several articles.

1. Mr. Renzi is indeed a lawyer. 2. He is quite handsome. 3. He had reason to come by the house. 4. Someone had died here, and therefore; 5. The house is haunted.

She gasps, and her skin erupts in goosebumps. She looks around the dark room and feels the darkness staring back. Was it just her imagination? No, there's a cold wind enveloping the room. The windows are closed. There's some sort of noise in the attic. Footfalls? Walking down the stairs? Outside her room? She panics and picks up her phone and the card next to it before running down the stairs.

Who to call? The cops? What if they think you're insane? The owner of the house? What's he going to do—ward off the vengeful spirit who's about to kill you?

She looks at her phone and pulls up the phone app to call the only person who can help her.

"Hello? Vincent?" Her voice trembles. She was outside the house, trembling, both because of the cold and the fear of what could possibly be inside the house.

"Oui, c'est moi; comment puis-je vous aider?" He answers in his charming French accent. She briefly wonders what he just said.

She quickly told him her name, although she doubted he would recognize her.

"Its me, the one from the cabin? I think there's someone in the house!"

-----

Vincent stays with her on the phone throughout the whole fifteen-minute drive. She seems to have calmed down a little, shivering mostly from the cold and less from fear. The moment he arrives, he immediately spots her outside the chalet. As the car stops, she runs toward him.

"What happened?" He catches her like its the most natural thing.

"Someone died here, right?" She looks up to him and positions him between her and the house.

Vincent sighs. "Is this about the haunted thing again?"

"You never answered me! I fact-checked your business card, and everything made sense!"

Vincent rests his forehead on his palm. He is still wearing his green home slippers, their bright color catching his eyes.

He tries to catch his breath after his mini-heart attack, expecting her to be in danger.

So this place is actually haunted, and she begins to feel a little sorry for him. She looks up at the house, noticing she failed to turn on the lights. Is there a figure in the attic window? Her mind might be playing tricks on her, but she is genuinely scared. She moves closer to the lawyer who is standing there, watching her.

"What?" Vincent pretends to be annoyed with her.

"Can you help me inspect the house?"

"I'm a lawyer, not a cop."

"You were observing the house this morning..." She mumbles.

Vincent sighs. He can't seem to say no to this woman.

-----------

"There. Happy now?" Vincent faces her with his hands on his hips. All the lights in the house are on, and Vincent checks the attic, making sure there are no "vengeful spirits" there to hurt her. She seems to be satisfied.

"Okay.... Thank you..." She mumbles sleepily in the living room. Vincent can't help but smile at how she looks right now.

The lawyer hesitates to leave her there, sleeping in the living room with all the lights on.

"Go on now; get to bed." He tells him, sounding like he's scolding a toddler.

"Okay. Goodnight." She walks up the stairs slowly. She now feels very comfortable around him, which is a wonder since she scolded him just this morning.

Vincent smiles to himself as he drives home.

--------

The minute Vincent wakes up the next day, he checks his phone for any texts from the woman in the chalet. He got her name when she called him last night and has been repeating it in his head since. Unfortunately for him, there were no calls or texts from her. He watches his phone closely in case she reaches out, but the only messages on his phone are text ads and messages concerning work.

As that Sunday progresses without her reaching out, the grumpier Vincent becomes.

So he heads out there.

----------

She had just come back from town, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit and produce. As she steps up and comes into view of the house,. He is surprised to see another car parked and a certain lawyer standing by the stairs.

"Where were you?" He tries to sound nonchalant.

She raises her basket, showing the obvious.

Vincent seems out of words. She is about to ask, 'Why are you even here?' and he would have no answer. Vincent looks down hard, trying to find the answer on the gravel. Ah, there it is.

"You deserve to know the truth." The lawyer blurts out suddenly, just as she was about to ask something.

"About what?"

"The man who died? He died right here," Vincent bluntly says, pointing to the spot next to them. "So, yes. This place is very haunted."

She gasps in surprise. She wasn't expecting him to believe her bullshit excuse to see him again that night, right? You guess he's one of those superstitious small-town folks.

Vincent waits for her reaction. She hasn't reacted the way he hoped. He expected her to be shocked and cling to him, but no, she just stands there and stares at the gravel.

"Hey, did you hear what I just said? This place is hau-"

"Do you want to grab coffee sometime?" She decides to just go straight to the deal, a slight smirk playing on one side of her face. Now it's Vincent who takes a breath of surprise.

"Um... Sure?" Vincent finds himself replying. He can't believe this turned out well for him when he literally had no roadmap for what he was trying to do.

"Okay. Let me just put these inside the house, and we can head to town together?"

The lawyer nods. She smiles and comes out of the house a while later and walks with him to town.

part 2?

#vincent renzi #vincent renzi x reader #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #swann arlaud #i just need to get this out of my system lmao #anatomy of a fall vincent

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soapsilly · 4 months

Text

My Kind of Woman - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Summary: Zoro being love drunk - and also a little drunk drunk - for (Y/N). A short story inspired by Mac DeMarco - My Kind Of Woman.

Requests are closed

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

It was late... or rather early? Did it really count as the next morning when you never even went to sleep? There weren't very many people left - most of them had already gone home or were passed out. Nothing unusual for the feasts the Straw Hats would have regularly after a big fight. The huge bonfire had gone out hours ago but there embers still glimmered red and hot. Somewhere, Brook was still playing a song on his guitar. It was slow and almost sultry.

Zoro was more than a little buzzed as he watched (Y/N) drunkenly sway to the music. He was mesmerized by her. The way her hips moved to the music so perfectly. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the tunes, a small smile present on her face. He knew she was dancing for herself only, not to impress any of those men that were there this evening, not even for him. That didn't stop the swordsman from still watching the woman intently though. Zoro sometimes couldn't believe the effect she had on him. All the little nicknames, the nights they spent together, small kisses and hidden touches. It was all so foreign to Zoro but strangely he didn't mind at all.

"Here", she pushed something in his hands.

"What's this?", he blinked a few times.

"My wanted poster. It has a picture of me on it... It'll last longer", she winked at him.

The swordsman grinned stupidly as he unfolded the paper in his hands.

He took another swig of his drink, letting the taste linger in his mouth, watching the way her arms snacked themselves around herself in a soothing hug, a bottle of liquor dangling in her hands. He wasn't a dancer but his mind almost automatically imagined himself in her arms, swaying to the music. Oh, the things she did to him...

She was everything for him. How could a woman like her ever stay with a guy like him? He was stubborn. A brute. Not romantic in the slightest. And yet she was always by his side, making sure he ate, slept, rested. That shitty cook liked to remind Zoro that she was too good for him every chance he got - any maybe he was right - but as long as she would have him he'd do everything for her.

"Are you serious? You need to rest! Your wounds haven't even healed properly and here you are training again already! I'm not gonna stay and watch you kill yourself"

"Leave then, I never asked you to be here anyways", Zoro regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

"You're an idiot, do you know that?", she told him before leaving the room.

He was sure he had permanently fucked things up with her this time, kicking himself over it, but in the evening (Y/N) came up to him.

"You shouldn't talk to me this way"

"I'm sorry", he meant it. He really did. He expected her to tell him to get lost, to not talk to her again but instead she hugged him. He didn't understand why she stuck right next to him, but he didn't dare to vocalize his thoughts, afraid of putting ideas in her head.

As if under a spell, he made his way over to her. He would blame the alcohol in the morning but he knew it was her that had this intoxicating effect on him. He knew the guys would tease him for his public display of affection but he didn't care. All he cared about right now was (Y/N). When he hugged her from behind, she didn't even hesitate as she turned around nuzzling her face in the nape of his neck.

"Didn't take you for a dancer"

"Couldn't help myself "

For a moment the two of them just stood there, swaying to the music, enjoying each others company.

"'M tired...", she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Want me to bring you back to the Sunny?", he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

"Only if you join me"

She didn't have to ask twice as he easily scooped her into his arms to carry her back to the Sunny. He'd never understand how he deserved a woman like her. He never was the romantic type but with her it was different. She was his kind of woman.

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #one piece x reader #one piece

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10piecechickennuggy · 5 months

Text

Of pain and healing - Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader - Oneshot

WARNING: Mature content ahead.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own One Piece or the art featured above. This is a fan created work.

“Traffy.” Luffy’s expression was the most serious she’d ever seen. “Take good care of y/n.”

What?

After everything. After sailing together for six months. After being flung halfway across the world and reuniting at the war of the best. After having his own brother die in his arms, Luffy was leaving her with another captain for two years?

Their friends were scattered around the world, doing who knows what. They’d sent out the message to reconvene in two years at Sabaody, but she was here. She’d expected to stay with him. To train with him. To support him in any way she could. He was her captain. Her friend. Her nakama.

“Luffy!” Y/n gripped the railing and prepared to jump overboard, intending to swim to him. A pair of strong, tattooed arms wrapped around her midsection and effectively stopped her from doing so.

“She’ll be safe with me, Strayhat-ya!” Law called over the girl’s thrashing.

Her arm stretched outward, vainly grasping for her captain. “No! Luffy, I won’t leave you!” Water had begun to form in her eyes, blurring her vision. “You’re going to be king of the pirates! How can you do that without any crew?!”

Luffy laughed. He was bandaged and bloodied, intending to spend his time on a deserted island, and he was laughing? Was her panic that funny?

“When we meet again, I’ll be stronger than ever!” The boy exclaimed proudly, his shoulders broad. “I expect the same from you!”

For a moment, she stopped struggling. This couldn’t be real. She was having a nightmare. There was no way her captain would abandon her. Luffy wouldn’t do that.

“Bepo! We’re going now!” Law used her moment of denial to pick the girl up, moving toward the door.

When the sirens screeched and the submarine lurched, signaling its descent into the waves, her panic resumed tenfold. She screamed incoherently. She squirmed, kicked, and clawed at the railing and then the air. Obscenities were hurled at Law. But he did not relent.

Once they’d gotten inside and the door closed, she didn’t stop fighting. Fists were hurled at the thick steel door. Nails broke as she dug at the metal. Tears fell in hot, angry streams.

Law’s grip only tightened on her waist, his forehead digging into her back. When she fell to her knees, he followed. Her tears turned into choking sobs and wails. Her heartbreak echoed with an intensity matching the alarms blaring throughout the submarine.

Why? Why was Luffy doing this to her? She didn’t understand.

Eventually the sirens ceased, announcing the craft’s successful descent, and she began to quiet. Her body shook as she held herself. Her breath quickened to near hyperventilation - the finality of her sentence sinking in.

When Law lifted her in his arms, her body fell limp. Why wasn’t she waking up? She began to feel numb, shock taking hold of her senses. The strong arms cradling her to a warm, broad chest went unnoticed. Her mind raced, the unknown of her circumstance paralyzing.

Before she could register the change, she was being sat down onto a cold examination table, the abrupt temperature startling her back to the present. Focusing her eyes, she found Law’s form turned away and shutting a door. The lock clicked in a satisfying tone.

The room was cold, sterile, reminiscent of a doctor’s office. The only hint that she wasn’t inside a hospital was the desk overflowing with papers and books set to one side. It looked like someone’s personal library had exploded over roughly half of the room.

Her senses still lagging, she jumped when Law’s hands slapped the table on either side of her. His arms were rigid, trapping her in place on the metal slab. His legs rested between hers as he leaned forward, his forehead coming into contact with her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft. Far softer than she’d heard over these last weeks.

He withdrew just enough so that their eyes could meet. His golden orbs reflected the fluorescent lights, appearing like lanterns amidst his dark circles. “I know you’re suffering. But I promise to care for you the best I can.”

Her eyes widened. Where was this coming from? The Trafalgar Law she’d seen at Marineford, the man who saved her captain’s life, was cold and unfeeling. He was an apathetic, calculating, unapologetic murderer. A captain of the Worst Generation. But as he raised a hand to smooth out the mess she’d made of her hair, she found herself leaning into his touch.

***

He wouldn’t leave her alone - not for long at least. He’d made her sleep in his room, insisting that the crew’s quarters were unfit.

He rarely slept in his own room, instead passing out at his desk after studying medical documents for countless hours. On the rare nights he did make it to the Captain’s quarters, he chose to sleep on the small couch.

Those first several nights, she barely slept. Perched on Law’s plush bed and staring out the porthole became her constant position, only resting when her body gave way to exhaustion. Spotting the occasional fish became the highlight of her days.

When a week had passed this way, Law decided it’d been long enough.

At first, she’d fought him on it. She refused to leave the room, not wanting to spend time with any of the Heart Pirates. She didn’t want to grow close to them. She already had a crew - the Straw Hats were her nakama.

But she was no match for Law’s strength or his Ope Ope powers. If she wouldn’t get up, he’d carry her. If she fought against his hold, he’d create a room and teleport them both.

He forced her to eat her meals with his crew. At first, she wouldn’t talk to them. Their welcoming greetings were met with neglect and half-hearted pleasantries. But each trip to the mess hall became less eventful.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked him one day while he dragged her to breakfast. “Why put so much energy into making me eat?”

Law clicked his tongue, his tone akin to chastising a child. “Your captain entrusted you to my care. How do you think he would react if I returned you malnourished?”

Eventually, she began to open up. Slowly - excruciatingly at times - she came to know a few key members of the Heart Pirates.

There was Bepo - a depressed polar bear mink and the ship’s navigator. His fur was the softest thing she’d ever felt.

Ikkaku was the only other female onboard. Her tomboyish personality made her a great fit for the mostly male crew.

Penguin and Shachi were a pair of near inseparable idiots. Their constant antics and terrible jokes brought some much needed entertainment to Y/n’s dark mind.

But always in her thoughts was the wish to be back home - aboard the Thousand Sunny. With the Straw Hats Pirates, sailing towards the One Piece. She’d have given anything to be with her nakama.

***

When the night terrors started, Law knew his efforts weren’t enough.

He was headed to bed after a late night of pouring over medical texts. Entering the room quietly, he’d found her form slumbering peacefully beneath the sheets of his bed.

Law had smiled at her snoring, glad she was finally getting some restful sleep. Her state had begun concerning him - sleep deprivation was a quick killer. But it seemed his attempts to get her accustomed to life alongside his crew had been working.

Satisfied with himself, he went into the attached bathroom. Removing his shirt to reveal a muscled, tattooed chest, he took in his reflection. His eyes were sunken, the permanent dark bags appearing to have worsened.

Turning on the sink, he began to splash water on his face. Then the shrieking started.

He rushed into the bedroom to see Y/n distressed. She was screaming, thrashing in her sleep as if she were being held down. The wails were panicked, desperate for relief from whatever horrors plagued her unconscious mind.

Law rushed to the bedside, placing a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. Inked letters spelling “Death” came into his vision, an unwelcome layer of irony adding to the chaos. He shook her head, willing his worries away before bringing his other hand to stroke her hair.

“Shh.” He spoke calmly, knowing that an abrupt awakening could spell danger for the girl. “You’re alright, Y/n-ya.”

When her eyes fluttered open, they were glossy with tears. She didn’t stop to ponder the distraught expression on Law’s face. She only reached forward, wrapping trembling arms around his torso and pulling him down to her level.

A fleeting moment of confusion caused the man to hesitate before he held her. She sobbed quietly into his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“Why are you being so kind to me?” She’d asked through sniffles one night after he’d calmed her.

Law sighed, his eyes closing under scrunched brows before he answered. “Because I know how it feels to have someone you love ripped away from you.”

***

For once, the submarine was docked on an island - one she’d refused numerous offers to explore. Birds flew over the horizon and waves could be heard lapping against the metal hull. Y/n hadn’t realized how much she missed the sounds of the surface.

Why had Luffy left her here? Was she that much of a hindrance to his training? She understood that he wanted to spend this time getting stronger. As they were now, none of the Strawhat Pirates were ready to face the New World. But could they not grow together?

Suddenly, shouting and gunfire broke her train of thought.

Springing to her feet, she tore through the metal hallways like a wild animal. She’d be damned if a Marine attack killed her new friends, leaving her stranded.

Wait. Friends?

Flinging the vessel’s main door open, Y/n jumped as a stray bullet barely missed her. The metal rang like a bell under impact, a small dent marring canary paint. She looked out to the island; soft sand was stained with blood. A Navy ship was docked not far away, her men engaged in battle with the Heart Pirates.

Both sides appeared to be struggling, though Y/n’s hosts were faring worse than the Marines. White and orange boiler suits blurred with the unmistakable blue and white of uniformed soldiers. At the heart of it all, Law could be seen slaughtering enemies one after another - His devil fruit and sword in perfect synchronization.

In contrast to their captain, the Heart Pirates’ lower ranking members were obviously floundering. They were outnumbered, even after the countless Marines that had already fallen. If the tides of battle didn’t turn soon -

Y/n jumped over the railing, sprinting forward the second her boots met wood. A body lay where the small dock’s planks turned to sand. She swiped the rifle laying nearby as she continued to run, choosing to ignore the stickiness which covered her hands.

Her first target was a man advancing on Bepo - a sword swinging dangerously close to the polar bear’s neck. Taking quick aim, she steadied her breath before firing. The bullet went straight through the man’s head, his body dropping instantly.

The navigator took notice of his savior, shouting a quick “thanks” before he moved to another target. This time, he chose to maul a marine who was advancing on Ikkaku. Blood sprayed as the soldier’s right arm was ripped off, a bloodcurdling scream erupting over the battlefield.

She took aim again, taking out two marines engaging Shachi and Penguin. One by one, enemy soldiers fell to expertly aimed shots. She was a weapons master, afterall.

The battle began to turn, the two sides evenly matched before the numbers tilted in the Heart Pirates’ favor.

“Everyone! Back on the ship!” Law’s order rang over the bloodied terrain as the surviving marines began their retreat.

Immediately heading their captain’s orders, the entire crew bolted for the Polar Tang. But a hand on Y/n’s shoulder prevented her from following.

“Room.”

Before she could register what was happening, she had been transported into Law’s room. Turning, she found the man standing behind her. Blood was splattered across his form, drying crimson clinging to his goatee.

“What are you - “

Her question was cut short, startled into silence by Law advancing on her. She quickly stepped away until her shoulder blades met the cool steel of the room’s door. Her eyes darted around the room, panic rising in the back of her thoughts.

What had she done wrong? Should she have stayed on the ship? Had she interfered with one of his plans?

She yelped when his fist landed beside her ear.

“Strayhat-ya isn’t getting you back.”

Law’s expression was one of pure anger. Fury morphed his usually stoic features, an inferno burning behind his gilded irises. Had she not been taken aback by his words, she would have been terrified.

“But Luffy said in two years - “

“To hell with Strawhat!” His fist banged again, this time leaving a dent in the steel door. His neglect to add the customary -ya didn’t go unnoticed. “He had you right there at Rusukaina, but instead sent you away with another man!?”

She shrank under his gaze. Law was usually so unexpressive. Even the tender moments they’d shared were not only rare but punctuated with only concern or melancholy. Never had she seen him display such intense emotion.

“He said he wants me to get stronger.” Why was she defending her captain? He’d abandoned her - tossed her aside to focus on himself. Didn’t he know how much she was hurting?

“You’re already plenty strong.” Law sneered, voicing her thoughts before they’d fully formed. “You just saved my entire crews’ asses. If he couldn’t appreciate what he already had, ” Law paused, removing his fist from the door and moving it to hold her waist. “Then I will.”

His lips crashed into hers with a passion she’d not experienced before. They were soft, moving fervently against her own as she reciprocated his movements. He smelled of musk and pine - the scent reminiscent of Christmas as it invaded her senses.

Each caress of their lips sent bolts of electricity down her spine. When his tongue probed for access, she granted it with a happy humm. Their wet muscles mingled in a dance of unspoken desire. All the sleepless nights he’d sit up with her, all the times he’d leave his work to check on her, all the effort he’d put into ensuring her health and wellbeing, all the energy and care he’d continue to exert for her - it all came to a head as one passionate kiss bled into the next.

Strong arms brought her against a firm chest, holding her tightly. When her fingers laced into his raven locks and tugged ever so gently, he growled into her mouth. In a single swift motion, he lifted her off the ground.

Her legs were still wrapped around his torso when she fell into the plush mattress. Their bodies were pressed impossibly close, the lines where her being stopped and his began had blurred. It wasn’t long before the two had become a heaving, sweaty mess of passionate flesh and sin.

***

Two years had passed quicker than either of them had expected.

“Y/n!” Luffy shouted in excitement as he ran towards her, his rubber arms stretching out to wrap around the girl.

She giggled, returning his embrace.

“Why weren’t you on Sabaody? We waited for you until the Marines attacked.” His confusion was sincere as he released her and tilted his head. But before she could respond, he continued with a wide grin. “Doesn’t matter now! Come on, we’ve got some kids to save before we leave this island!”

When he’d turned to run off, Law spoke up. His arms were crossed over his jacket-clad chest. “Wait, Strawhat-ya. Y/n has something to say.”

Luffy turned to face her, his expression now serious.

She shook her head before moving towards Law. “I won’t be going back with you. I’m a Heart Pirate now.”

Law smirked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders before he leaned down. After placing a kiss to her forehead, he glared at Luffy. “And my girlfriend.”

#one piece #x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #trafalgar law x you #trauma #abandonment #healing #romance #oneshot #one piece oneshots

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bestworstcase · 6 months

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the first thing. the very first thing we see salem do besides the non-diegetic bookend monologues. is tell off watts for being mean to cinder. “watts, do you find such malignance necessary?”

and it isn’t just a passing remark, salem makes a whole thing of it. “then i see no reason for your cruelty towards young cinder,” effusive praise and then she turns back to watts and says, “so, i’m curious, to what ‘failures’ are you referring?”

well, watts says, the girl with the silver eyes. even without her new power, it should have been effortless—

—and salem shuts that down hard. “it is because of the maiden’s power.” it’s not cinder’s fault. “make no mistake, cinder: you hold the key to our victory. but your newfound strength brings with it a crippling weakness, which is why you will remain by my side as we continue your treatment.”

then, after salem gives her orders, cinder asks about ruby. watts scoffs; what about her, she’s cinder’s problem, not ours. but: “tyrian? spring can wait. find the girl that did this to cinder, and bring her to me.”

and scene. that’s our first real glimpse of who salem is, and it lays the foundations for everything that develops from this point with salem and cinder.

before salem walks into the room it’s established that cinder is at the bottom of the pecking order. watts and tyrian gleefully pick on her; hazel doesn’t give a shit. and then salem enters and makes this deliberate, protracted point of not just “don’t be cruel to cinder” but she is at pains to demonstrate that cinder’s wellbeing is her first priority. salem is personally involved in treating her injuries. watts is taking over the haven operation so that cinder will have more time to heal. she pulls tyrian off the hunt for the spring maiden because cinder wants ruby dealt with, and salem again intends to deal with the matter herself.

“it’s important not to lose sight of what drives us: love. justice… reverence. but the moment you put your desires before my own, they will be lost to you. this isn’t a threat; this is simply the truth. the path to your desires is only found through me.”

but for cinder fall, spring can wait.

cinder has always been the exception to every rule. salem put what cinder wanted ahead of her own agenda. salem effectively postponed haven to do cinder a favor, without a second of hesitation. salem spent all of V4-5 focused on cinder and what cinder wanted.

her parting words before cinder leaves for haven are: “you will have the power i promised you when the time is right, but remember that it comes with a cost. if ruby rose has learned to harness her gift, you must take care to protect yours; there’s only so much i can do to aid you.”

<;- “be careful.”

and then cinder is not careful. now consider this exchange:

SALEM: Emerald. I want you to tell me whose fault this was… Now. EMERALD: Ci-Cinder! We failed because of Cinder. SALEM: ……That’s right. I want you to understand that failure; I want you to understand why Cinder must be left to toil in her isolation until she redeems herself. MERCURY: You mean… EMERALD: She’s alive!? WATTS: You’re joking. How could you know that?

ok. really think about this.

salem is the only person in the room who knows cinder is alive. everybody else takes it as a given that she died at haven. “maybe cinder survived somehow?” is not a possibility on anybody’s radar.

emerald is on the brink of collapsing in abject grief because she believes cinder is dead. and then salem grabs her shoulder and is like “listen to me very closely, it is emotionally important to me that you understand why we will not be going to cinder’s aid. she MUST be left to TOIL ALONE. BY HERSELF. until she redeems herself. do you understand?”

and the entire inner circle is like excuse me

what do you mean cinder’s alive

how do you even know that

“NO FURTHER QUESTIONS.”

i just—hrgfjfk

“apropos of nothing, i am NOT sending you or cinder’s other little friend to her aid and i will NOT be altering my plans in any way to help her i am not going to lift a finger for her. until she redeems herself.”

the lady doth protest too much.

for cinder fall, spring can wait.

salem is projecting her own desire to rescue cinder from the haven mess onto emerald for the express purpose of shooting it down. watts asks how she could even know cinder survived and salem’s like >:( and changes the subject.

“it’s important not to lose sight of what drives us. love—”

she goes through her whole little spiel about not putting what they want before what she wants and then, with her back turned to all of them, she glances out the window and the mask just crumbles. her shoulders hunch. she is acutely unhappy. “and so we must… press on.”

this song and dance is not for them. it’s for her. it is half of an argument salem is having with herself.

“spring can wait; find the girl that did this to cinder, and bring her to me.” -> “but the moment you put your desires before my own, they will be lost to you.”

“you will have the power i promised you […] but remember that it comes with a cost. if ruby rose has learned to harness her gift, you must take care to protect yours; there is only so much i can do to aid you.” -> “the path to your desires is only found through me.”

✨salem✨ is the one who set the expectation that what cinder wanted took priority. salem told cinder to rely on herself first and salem second. she warned cinder repeatedly and explicitly that the power she promised to cinder would expose her to greater harm.

as far as salem knows, because watts certainly wouldn’t have painted a fair picture of why cinder made the choices she did, cinder didn’t heed that warning, fumbled haven, lost the lamp, and very nearly got herself killed in the process.

and salem wants to throw her a lifeline.

she doesn’t want to be wanting to throw cinder a lifeline but it is, obviously, a thought that crossed her mind often enough for her to feel the need to declare out loud that she is Not Going To Do It, No Matter How Much You Might Want Me To, Emerald.

“the sword under vacuo’s academy, shade—” and then hazel drops the bomb on her that ozma has the lamp and he’s taking it to atlas. watts and tyrian are rattled because oz might talk some sense into ironwood and spoil the plan. but salem?

salem isn’t thinking tactics or strategy. she is getting run over by the freight train of discovering she feels the same way about This Situation—cinder trying to get the lamp away from ozma alone—as she feels about her daughters.

and she cannot fucking do it.

cinder must be left to toil in her isolation until she redeems herself (by recovering the lamp) -> what do you mean oz has the lamp -> never mind we’re all going to atlas right the fuck now. cinder can toil in isolation with the covert support of salem’s most formidable pair of agents while salem churns out a zillion grimm over the course of a few months ITS FINE. EVERYTHING IS FINE.

“she thinks; she wants. as if she’s done something to warrant me caring about either of those things.” i don’t care, she says, caringly.

but:

“your newfound strength brings with it a crippling weakness, which is why you will remain at my side while we continue your treatment.” -> “you will have the power i promised you when the time is right, but remember that it comes with a cost. if ruby rose has learned to harness her gift, you must take care to protect yours. there’s only so much i can do to aid you.” -> “i would like to think i’ve shown a great deal of patience during my many years walking remnant, but i do hate repeating myself. you will remain here. is that clear?”

it isn’t that she’s punishing cinder for the failure at haven.

cinder comes home from beacon maimed, salem keeps her at evernight for months and replaces the arm she lost with a grimm (<- symbolically, she gives cinder part of herself; the arm ties them together and that goes both ways, salem knows she’s alive and cinder knows when she’s back; she makes cinder like herself). waits as long as she reasonably can before sending her to haven, with parting words that amount to be careful, i won’t be there to save you.

cinder gets clobbered at haven and barely survives, salem is at war with herself over it when hazel blindsides her with the bad news that ozma has the lamp and she panics.

salem drops everything to rush to atlas with overwhelming force and arrives to find cinder waiting for her not only in one piece but also in possession of the lamp; her eyes go fucking glossy for a second as an enormous amount of tension just melts away. and salem like? teases her? about her habit of bringing home strays. “hm! you certainly do like collecting assets,” fondly indulgent. oh you. like genuinely is is the one and only time salem has ever sounded like she’s having fun.

…then cinder reveals that she tried for the staff, too, but the polendina girl “interfered” and became the winter maiden instead. (salem isn’t stupid she knows this is cinder-speak for “a girl who could beat me without magic is the winter maiden now.”) and cinder wants to turn right around and hunt her down? NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. YOU ARE STAYING HERE.

the hammer drops because salem is scared. she resorts to cruelty in a desperate stab at clawing herself back from the ledge of Caring About Cinder; but salem is so, so, so painfully cognizant all the time of how mortal cinder is. she sent cinder to beacon and cinder came home missing her eye and half an arm. she sent cinder to haven and cinder almost didn’t come back at all, it’s a miracle she survived. and salem brought an incomprehensible number of grimm to atlas specifically to avoid round three of feeling terrified while cinder crawls through a meat grinder for her. and now cinders like BUT I WANT TO CRAWL THROUGH THE MEAT GRINDER!

“remember that [power] comes with a cost; if ruby rose has learned to harness her gift, you must take care to protect yours. there’s only so much i can do to aid you” -> “everything is already in motion; all you need to concern yourself with is your ability to act when i tell you to.”

she doesn’t have the nerve to say it or maybe she just doesn’t know how but she is trying to pull cinder out of the line of fire. this is not your game to win (this is not your fight) and just because you’re more valuable to me than a pawn (you are not just a pawn to me) and everything is already in motion (i will take care of it this time) and all you need to concern yourself with is your ability to act when i tell you (don’t worry just let me handle it).

if she can crack down and keep cinder under control with cruelty and intimidation then she doesn’t have to confront the feelings driving her decisions, but of course she can’t because she never had control over cinder in the first place; cinder is legitimately stunned when salem shuts her down in 8.1 because Salem Does Not Treat Her Like That.

so naturally cinder goes: well fuck you i do what i want.

and almost fucking dies.

again.

they hit amity in the middle of the night. it’s dawn in vacuo during the broadcast, vacuo is six hours ahead of atlas (2.3). cinder does not wake up until dawn. she is unconscious for six hours. six. hours. in a world where aura can fully heal a thoracic impalement in about fifteen minutes.

think about how badly cinder had to have been hurt for emerald—who loves cinder and is terrified of salem—to bring cinder back to the whale after they did exactly what salem directly ordered cinder not to do. think about the level of desperation necessary for emerald of all people to weigh the risk of salem’s fury against the severity of cinder’s injuries and decide she had to bring cinder to salem.

“you chose to disobey my specific instructions, just to fail again. and… i’ve realized it’s all my fault. you’ve fought your whole life unwaveringly for what you want, and here i am holding you back, instead of lifting you up. you deserve so much more than i’ve given you.”

<- that is the sound of salem falling off the ledge.

as a manipulative tactic to get cinder under her thumb this is, quite plainly, not going to work, and cinder sees right through it, and salem knows that. by literally ✨rewarding✨ open defiance she accomplishes nothing except proving to cinder that when the chips are down, salem will blink first.

but.

salem is not about getting cinder under her thumb. she wants the relics and she’s also been losing her gods-damned mind for months now because every time cinder leaves her sight for an extended period of time cinder has gotten smushed like a bug and the legion of grimm did not even slightly improve the situation. and the only way salem can think of to thread the needle between having her cake and eating it too is to go REBELLION IS OKAY. LET’S TRY THE BUDDY SYSTEM.

the minute salem reconstitutes, she beelines to where cinder is. pretends not to notice cinder’s bald-faced lies. “you did well” and “our work here is done” and not interrupting and making a point to demonstrate that she listened to what cinder told her (“you said they used the staff; i assume you rid the world of their creation.”) and asking carefully non-threatening follow up questions (“what did you create?” as opposed to, like, what happened to watts).

salem isn’t trying to put cinder on a leash. she’s twisting herself into knots in search of a way to move forward with her actual agenda without getting cinder killed, and her increasing desperation to keep cinder alive is not primarily motivated by strategic calculation; it’s emotional.

her establishing character moment is salem Making a Statement to her own inner circle that cinder is more important than the plan. she says she’s going to leave cinder to ~toil in isolation~ and sticks to it for all of, like, two minutes before she finds out it would mean abandoning cinder to face ozma alone and just shatters. she is visibly relieved when cinder surprises her with the lamp and proceeds to make “you will not go hunting a girl who can definitely maul you” her hill to die on until cinder tries to actually die on it, whereupon salem snaps like a stretched rubber band back to “you can do whatever the hell you want just please for the love of fuck slow down and let me bend the odds as much in your favor as i can.” this woman is immortal and cinder is still shaving years off her lifespan.

and this is going to keep happening until she can get her act together and say outright that she Cares About Cinder, because to cinder all of this just looks like salem yanking a leash to remind cinder she’s worthless. the second beacon arc is going to be hysterical.

#everything salem does is so intensely personal #and so circumscribed by fear of rejection

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imagines--galore · 3 months

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||The Thread of Fate|| Part Nine

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight,

A/N: So I didn't mean to stay away for so long but then life happened :/ Anyway! Hope you guys enjoy this REALLY long chapter!

To say it had been a close call would be an understatement. Not only had they escaped the Fire Nation Princess as well as the Fire Nation in the past few weeks, but somehow had managed to evade capture once more by two unknown assailants from the Earth Kingdom.

Hiding away in flower pots had certainly not been a comfortable idea, but it proved effective.

While the shopkeeper's son wheeled them away from the small village that had offered them refuge, Orora's mind caught up with all that had happened since yesterday.

Finding someone to help them.

The strange Pai Sho game.

The White Lotus Tile.

Escaping the Oasis.

Iroh's strange meeting.

Falling asleep on Zuko's shoulder.

The last one had a blush stealing across her cheeks, and the memory of it had her stomach flipping in on itself.

It was ridiculous just how strangely her body was reacting to what had happened. Especially when the waking up part had involved Zuko suddenly jumping to his feet and her body flopping to the side on the dirt floor.

He didn't even apologize for it, which only added to her annoyance of having been so rudely awakened.

As her annoyance faded to mild irritation, her mind began to wander had just how much her life had changed within the past few months.

Not only had she left home and her family, but she had also found herself a Master who could teach her. Her healing abilities had increased exponentially given the severity of the patients she had taken care of, not to mention how many she had treated. She had learned how to fight, a feat she was most proud of considering she barely had any training. The Moon Spirit herself had visited her and offered her advice. Her fingers unconsciously brushed against the white patch in her hair.

And then there was the fact that she had also found her soulmate.

Albeit one she could never accept but still. Not a lot of girls from the Northern Water Tribe claimed to have found their soulmates. Most of them had their marriages arranged to someone of their father's choosing before they could do so.

So perhaps she was fortunate enough to know who he was.

Just too bad he was the Fire Nation Prince.

Running a hand down her face the water bender sighed. "I need to stop fixating on him so much." She muttered to herself.

————————–

Boarding the boat that would carry them closer to their destination went about with no obstacles. Which was strange considering up till now whatever plan that was made hit a snag or two along the way. Still, she wasn't about to question fate and did remain on guard should anything go awry.

Her blue eyes were focused on the dock as it slowly grew smaller as the boat sailed away. Her Master had expressed his excitement by proclaiming himself a tourist, while Zuko remained as he preferred.

Pouting and brooding in a corner.

She barely overheard what they were speaking of, content on simply gazing at the clear water. She could see her reflection in it, could see the white patch of hair she had been blessed with.

Was that what it was then? A blessing by the Moon Spirit. Lifting her hand she brushed the tips of her fingers against the strands, tilting her head as she continued to observe her reflection. She wasn't someone who cared too much about her looks, but she didn't think she was unpleasant to look at. Cutting off her hair had been humbling in her opinion, and necessary. And the short hair did suit her, the strands now coming to just curl under her chin, the tips barely touching her collarbone. Still was she someone who could be described as being pretty? She pursed her lips, dropping her hand and shaking her head. Honestly, what was wrong with her? There were other more pressing things to worry about then her appearance.

"Orora, my dear." Iroh's voice barely registered in her mind, so lost she was as she gazed at the water, though she did make a small humming sound, to show she had heard him.

"It would seem there are a few passengers in need of your abilities."

That got her attention. Standing straight, the young girl followed his line of sight to see a young mother trying to console her small child. The little boy's arm was in makeshift sling, and even from here Orora could see how awkwardly the boy was holding his arm.

With an encouraging nod from her Master, the young waterbender slowly approached the duo. The mother looked up as she came closer.

"I'm sorry if his crying is disturbing you. It's just he's hurt an-" Orora shook her head, letting her lips curve into what she hoped was a friendly smile. "That is not the reason why I came. I'm a Healer, and I wanted to see if I could do something to help him."

So saying she bent down on her knees and reached out a hand towards the boy. "May I?" The mother looked a little unsure, but the child let out a loud whimper and she relented. Removing the sling, Orora uncorked her water pouch and coated her hands with the liquid. It glowed under her touch, mesmerizing the boy and distracting him from the pain as well as the fever that raged through his tiny body.

"It is a small break, but one I will be able to fix." Orora observed. She pressed her hands atop the boy's arm and took a deep breath. The blue glow around her hands intensified briefly before dying down. "Now try to move your arm." She encouraged with a smile, once she had removed her hands.

The boy was hesitant at first, but when no pain radiated from his injury, he let out a bright, happy laugh before swinging his arm around. Orora couldn't help but laugh lightly at his enthusiasm. "Well, it looks like you're all better now." She turned her attention to the mother who was looking at her in utter disbelief.

"He'll need something to make sure his fever goes away." Reaching into her bag she pulled out a small pack of leaves. "So just add this in his water and he should b-" The next moment all the breath was knocked right out of her as the mother all but threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around Orora in a tight embrace. "Thank you. Thank you so much." She all but sobbed. For her part, Orora patted the woman awkwardly on the back a few times.

When it came to physical displays of affection, her life had been quite lacking. Her father had never hugged her, her mother would only brush her hair in affection. The only embrace Orora could recall was one she had received from her grandmother. And that was so long ago.

She barely remembered it.

Once she was free of the embrace, the young girl quickly stood up and nodded at the small family before quickly retreating to where her two travel companions were. She moved to resume her previous stance when a voice stopped her.

"Why did you help them?"

Her head turned sharply in Zuko's direction. He was standing up against the support beam she had just passed, arms folded and a rather irritated look on his face. Which was the norm really.

"We're supposed to be keeping a low profile. You can't just go around and heal people." His words had her sighing in an almost exasperated manner. "Tell me Lee." The use of his other name sounded strange upon her tongue, and if Zuko were honest a tiny part of him didn't like hearing that name coming from her lips.

He much preferred Zuko.

Without so much as a hint of emotion in her features she continued. "If you came across a person, begging for water, and what you had was the last of your reserve would you give it to them?"

————————–

The silence that followed her words stretched on. Both teenagers refused to look away from the other, having started some sort of staring contest where neither wished to admit defeat. However there were subtle differences between their expressions.

Orora's face was tilted upwards slightly, silently challenging Zuko to answer and nearly taunting him with her eyes as she did. Zuko, on his part, had his lips pursed, and while Orora's stance was more relaxed and at ease, it was clear there was an inner battle that raged within the banished prince.

Then again, there was always a battle raging within him every waking hour.

Unable to bear the intensity of Orora's gaze, he was the first one to look away. The girl let out a small sound that was a mix between disappointment and annoyance. "When you're ready to give an answer to my question, I'll answer yours." She said referring to what he had asked earlier. With that she walked past him towards Iroh who stood nearby trying to act as if he wasn't paying attention to them. And failing at it.

"I'm going to take a walk around the deck. See if anyone else needs my help." With a nod of confirmation from her teacher, Orora gripped the shoulder of her water satchel and with one backward glace in Zuko's direction, walked off.

The young prince watched her as she left. He couldn't understand why she went about helping people like she did. Sure she had done it in the past, but that was mostly to get some money for provisions. These people couldn't give her any money.

Was she simply doing it out of kindness?! Was that even possible for a person to do given how dangerous things could get for her. She was a girl after all. Not defenseless, but still an easy target.

The thought of Orora being an easy target for anyone looking to take advantage of her had a sickening feeling settle in the pit of his stomach.

And it had nothing to do with the smell of the food he had received while he had been lost in contemplation. Pushing away the unpleasant thought, he turned his attention to the broth in his bowl and made a face. It looked like dirt, and he was sure it tasted like that too. He raised the bowl to his lips and no sooner had the broth touched his lips when he spat it right out.

"Ugh! I'm sick of eating rotten food." He growled, looking like he wanted to throw the bowl into the water. "Sleeping in the dirt. I'm tired of living like this!" Maybe it was the hunger gnawing at his stomach that had his previous emotions rising to the surface. Or maybe it was the thought of a certain waterbender getting hurt somehow.

"Aren't we all?" The voice came as a sudden distraction, prompting Zuko and his Uncle to look in the direction of the speaker. A teenage boy with a stalk of wheat in his mouth stepped into their line of sight. He was flanked by two younger teenagers. "My name's Jet and these are my Freedom Fighters, Smellerbee and Longshot." He introduced himself and his companions. The girl, Smellerbee, greeted back, Longshot simply gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

"Hello." Zuko spoke in a slightly dismissive tone, hoping they would go away. However, what Jet said next caught his undivided attention.

"Here's the deal. I hear the captain's eating like a king while the refugees have to feed off his scraps. Doesn't seem fair, does it?" Iroh, who was normally against stealing but couldn't deny his hunger spoke up. "What sort of king is he eating like?"

"The fat, happy kind." Jet stated in a slightly sarcastic tone. Hearing this Iroh's mouth hung open, as his mind began to concoct all sorts of delicious meals the captain might be eating at that moment. Jet turned his attention back to Zuko. "You want to help us "liberate" some food?" He asked with a smirk. Glancing down at the disgusting slop Zuko gripped it tighter in his hand before tossing it into the water. "I'm in."

————————–

With one final deep breath, Orora lifted her hands from the leg she had finished healing. "There. That should heal it." She informed the previously ailing old man who gave her a smile of disbelief and gratitude. His old wife reached out to clasp her hand in a motherly way. "Thank you so much my dear. We were afraid he wouldn't be able to find work with his injured foot when we got into Ba Sing Se." Orora smiled. "Well no need to worry about that now."

As she watched the old couple walk away, the man with an obvious spring in his step, her smile disappeared and she fell to the side, catching herself on the wooden railing. Raising a hand to her head, the young girl pressed her fingers against her temple to try and alleviate the pain that radiated from there. She had been healing for a good few hours now. And though she had had breaks inbetween where she would give out medicinal herbs to those who were sick, she had barely found time to stop and just rest. Let alone eat.

The sun had set a good hour or so ago. Maybe that was enough healing for the day. Her arms were aching from the multiple healing sessions, and her body felt heavy with tiredness. Was this what it felt like to heal people for such a long time? Your entire body felt like it was half-dead? Maybe she had overdone it.

But those people had needed her help, she told herself as she walked back to her travel companions, bending fresh water from the lake and into her water satchel. "Good evening, Orora." Iroh greeted as she sat down next to him. Giving a small nod, the girl stifled a yawn. "And to you Master." She glanced around, frowning slightly when she didn't see any sign of Zuko. "He has made some new friends." Iroh answered her unspoken question, prompting her to look at him in surprise. He simply smiled at her. She blushed at having been caught, but her embarrassment was forgotten when Zuko appeared with three other teenagers, bags over their shoulders.

Bags that was filled with food.

While Jet, as Iroh quickly informed her, distributed the food to the rest of the refugees, Zuko brought over several bowls of what looked like fresh food towards them. Iroh quickly accepted a bowl of noodles and began to slurp them down happily. Orora stared at the bowl Zuko held out towards her.

Their eyes locked, gold on blue, their string shorter when they were close. Slowly she reached out to take the bowl, their fingers brushing as she did. "Thank you."

It wasn't long before she had eaten her fill and was beginning to feel even more sleepier then before. Zuko had settled down beside her eating his own food.

Having distributed all the food, Jet came to sit down with them. She was only able to give him a nod of acknowledgement before resuming her semi-dozing state, trying hard not to fall asleep completely.

"From what I heard, people eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se." Said Jet. "I can't wait to set my eyes on that giant wall." He continued sounding almost wistful as he did. Iroh nodded. "It is a magnificent sight." Jet leaned forward, eager to hear more. "So you've been there before?"

The shift in conversation had Orora momentarily forgetting about her lack of sleep as both she and Zuko turned their attention towards Iroh. "Once. When I was a different man." The sadness and despair in his usually twinkling eyes made Orora's heart ache and she reached out to rest a hand on top of his in comfort. Her Master patted her head, silently showing he appreciated her concern for him.

Jet pursed his lips before speaking. "I've done some things in my past that I'm not proud of, but that's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se: for a new beginning. A second chance." For someone talking about the future he didn't sound so hopeful about it, Orora mused to herself.

"That's very noble of you." Iroh spoke, nodding at the teenager. "I believe people can change their lives if they want to." He glanced at his nephew. "I believe in second chances." Zuko too glanced at his Uncle, though his amber eyes shifted to Orora who rubbed the heel of her palm against her eye, yawning as she did. Iroh noticed too, prompting him to reach out and pat her on the shoulder.

"Perhaps you should turn in, my dear. You've had a tiring day." Wordlessly the girl nodded, barely able to keep her eyes open. Slowly she rose to her feet, and had barely taken a step forward when a wave of dizziness overcame her, tilting her to the side and straight into Zuko. Luckily he was quick enough to catch her, though he almost fell back himself. "Orora?" The urgency in his voice was evident as he shook her shoulder. The girl mumbled something under her breath. His Uncle quickly looked the girl over and smiled in exasperation. "She has worked hard today and has passed out from being tired." He finally stated. Zuko scowled. "Well couldn't she have passed out on her bedroll?" Even with the words coming out of his mouth, his grip around her shoulder and waist did not let up.

If anything he seemed to hold her closer. Especially with Jet looking at her like he was. Zuko did not like it one bit.

"I will lay it out for her." Iroh quickly stood and went off to get a pillow and blanket from where they were stored on the ship for their use. Zuko gave a small nod of confirmation, stiffening when he felt Orora shifting a little in his arms before settling once more. Her head rested against his shoulder, and her lips were parted slightly as she breathed deeply. His features shifted to a look of concern as he quickly tried to figure out just how long she had been healing and helping people. And that too on an empty stomach. Of course, not that he could've done anything about it. She was much too stubborn to actually listen to him, but at least he would've had the chance to tell her off when she returned.

But then why should he care? A voice whispered in his head. A voice that sounded suspiciously like his sister's. Why should he care about a lowly waterbender? What was she to him?

"She your girlfriend?" Jet's question cut through his dangerous musings. Zuko leveled a particularly irritated glare in his direction. "No." He snapped, the very word laced with poison.

Just your soulmate, his brain supplied, as Jet raised his hands in a gesture that showed he meant no harm before getting up and going to look for his companions. Zuko stayed where he was, and this time he purposefully avoided looking at the girl passed out in his arms. As soon as his Uncle returned with the pillow and blanket, he laid her down on the hard floor and left her to sleep.

And if he was extra gentle with his movements as he laid her down, he did not think too much of it.

And if he lingered over her, watching her as she settled to make sure she was as comfortable as he could get, his Uncle did not mention it.

And if he leaned back down to pull the blanket over her shoulder properly so she would not be cold, Zuko pretended that he didn't, consciously, allow his fingers to brush against the soft skin of her cheek as he pulled back.

And if he happened to glance at the string around their fingers glimmer with color, he ignored it completely.

————————–

Being on your own isn't always the best path.

His own words resonated in his ears and his mind from his recent conversation with Jet. As he watched the docks grow in size as they neared their destination, Zuko couldn't help but think over what he had said. He had tried that. He had spent nearly a month on his own and it had gotten him nowhere.

If anything, things had gotten only worse for him. Maybe he had gotten used to having someone around him.

His Uncle had been by his side since his banishment. He had been the unbreakable support Zuko had needed in his times of despair. And truthfully, he was the reason he had made it this far alive. How many times had his Uncle helped him out of difficult situations? Though he would never tell him, Zuko's affections and gratitude for his Uncle ran deep. And sometimes, even though he knew it was wrong, he wished that Iroh was his real father and not Ozai.

And then there was Orora. Someone who had come into his life and made it all the more complicated. He lifted the hand where the string was tied to his finger, and followed it's path to the other end. His soulmate stood next to Iroh. Her back was towards him, allowing him to observe her without it becoming awkward for either of them. Despite the fact that nothing would come out of them being each other's soulmates, he couldn't help but wander if mayb-

The sound of the whistle blowing cut through his thoughts as their boat finally docked. The crowd began to chatter excitedly as they made their way towards the gangplanks. Sighing to himself, he walked towards Uncle and Orora.

"Well now, just one more stop and we shall begin a new life together." His Uncle stated jovially as he led the way towards the gathering crowd.

Together.

Such an insignificant word that carried so much weight.

Orora glanced in his direction as she fell into step beside him. He allowed his gaze to meet her own for a brief moment before they both looked away.

————————–

Orora was sure that the ticket woman who stood behind the booth had to be a distant relation to her old tutor, Ms. Chiyo. She had a certain look in her eye, one that Orora had dreaded as a child since those beady eyes would assess her every move looking for a slip up on her part.

The woman had been her manners and etiquette tutor for a good few years, and Orora had despised her. She had always been so harsh and could be downright cruel at times.

"So," The woman spoke, looking over their tickets and passports as the three of them stood in front of her. Mr. Lee, Ms. Orora and Mr. ummm ... Mushy, is it?

Iroh, ever the polite old man, corrected her. "It's pronounced Mushi." The already irritated woman's expression shifted to pure annoyance as she glared at Iroh. "You telling me how to do my job?" She demanded, her voice rising in pitch.

Sensing that perhaps he had done wrong, Iroh was quick to shake his head as he approached the ticket booth. "Uh, no, no." There was a brief pause on his part before he continued with a smile on his face that was, for lack of a better word, sickeningly sweet.

"But may I just say you're like a flower in bloom. Your beauty is intoxicating." Orora could feel her face morph in one of disbelief and slight disgust at the words coming out of her teacher's mouth. Beside her Zuko was no better, looking just as disgusted.

For a moment Orora was almost afraid the ticket woman would call the guards, but instead she smiled in what the young girl could only say was a flirtatious manner and return Iroh's smile.

"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself, handsome. Roar!"

Oh that part nearly had her bursting out into laughter. She clapped a hand to her mouth, while Zuko did the same but to his eyes, as if he had no desire to even witness what was going on in front of him.

"Welcome to Ba Sing Se." Their tickets were stamped, and they were officially citizens of Ba Sing Se. Iroh grinned happily as he collected the tickets and held them out for the two teenagers to take.

"I'm going to forget I saw that." Zuko grumbled before snatching his ticket and walking away. Orora accepted her ticket as well and followed after the prince, though she allowed herself to be amused by what had happened and let out a few giggles as she did.

Iroh brought up the rear, looking rather pleased with himself.

————————–

As they waited for their train to be called, Orora leaned back where she stood, watching as the refugees boarded the trains that would take them to their destination. It seemed strange to know that she would entering a city. She had only seen small towns and villages so far. But a city as big and grand as Ba Sing Se would surely be unmatched to what she had experienced so far. And that included the Northern Water Tribe.

A familiar voice broke her out of her thoughts. "So, you guys got plans once you're inside the city?"Jet asked as he sat down next to Zuko. Orora couldn't help but frown at the teenager's insistence to be around Zuko every chance he got. What was his problem anyway? She mused to herself, not even bothering to hide her scowl as she glared at the boy. Just then a Tea-seller walked by prompting Iroh to quickly get up and buy himself a cup of Jasmine. Though no sooner had he tasted the liquid when he began to lament his mistake. "Blaugh! Ugh, coldest tea in Ba Sing Se is more like it! What a disgrace!" Orora couldn't help but giggle, reaching out to pat her Master gently on the shoulder as consolation. "I'm sure we'll get you some nice warm tea when we get to the city, Master." He nodded in affirmation. "Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Jet said motioning for Zuko to follow him. Zuko sighed and reluctantly rose, following after him.

Once more Orora found her eyes trained in the direction of the prince as he walked off. They stood a little ways away talking. But whatever the conversation was, it was over just as quickly as it began. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get caught and turned her attention to where Iroh was drinking his hot steaming tea happily.

Wait!

Hot?!

Steaming?!

A startled gasp fell from her lips, prompting Zuko to falter in his steps and follow her line of sight. His hand darted out to knock the cup of tea out of Iroh's hand. "Hey!" The old man protested even as his nephew leaned down to hiss at him through gritted teeth. "What're you doing firebending your tea?! For a wise old man, that was a pretty stupid move!"

"Honestly Master, that was reckless." Even Orora couldn't help but chime in. But Iroh wasn't listening to any of them, lamenting over his spilled tea. Orora glanced up toe Jet's retreating back. "He didn't see anything did he?" She spoke softly, dread filling her as she thought of what the boy might do should he discover that Zuko and Iroh were firebenders. "I don't think so. Besides, even if he did, he has no proof." Zuko stated firmly as a way of reassuring her as well as himself. The waterbender nodded, though there was a nervousness in her eyes that remained even as they boarded their train a few minutes later.

But then that all shifted to the very back of her mind as they exited the station and were greeted with their every first sight of Ba Sing Se. Eagerly looking out of the window, Orora couldn't help but stick her head out of the window and let out a little laugh of joy as the cool air brushed through her hair.

"I hope Ba Sing Se brings something new for us." She whispered to herself as she watched the scenic view pass by.

Beside her Zuko couldn't help but hope for the same.

————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos @violet-potter @rennysketch @emma-andrea1 @fuzzyfestcat

@msrawog

#zuko x y/n #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #zuko x oc #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar #the thread of fate #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last Airbender

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sequinsmile-x · 23 days

Text

Physical Touch

He usually loved when his wife touched him, but it was slowly driving him crazy.

Part of the Love Languages series

-x-

Hi friends!

Well...I should have expected that the smut fic would win the poll by a landslide and here we are haha

I really hope you enjoy this <3 it's soft, smutty and full of Aaron just...pining for his wife. What more could you want on a Thursday evening?

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He’d known she was tactile long before they got together.

Aaron had watched her for years, always ready to place a comforting hand on someone’s shoulder or pull them into a hug. More than once he’d found himself wishing she’d do the same for him, the embargo they’d seemingly placed on physical contact between them a two-way thing, something they both upheld, as if they knew it was a line they could not cross.

He’d held her hand once before they became them. It was when she was in hospital, before she was stable enough to be moved to Bethesda. She’d still mostly been out of it, pain and medication rolling through her in a way he was also familiar with. He’d held her hand, squeezing it tightly as he wore the suit he’d worn to her funeral, a bitter taste on his tongue as he apologised to her. She’d told him since that she thought she’d dreamt it, that she’d pulled him out of her imagination, the warmth of his hand around hers something she’d made up in some strange attempt to self-soothe.

He’d always known she was tactile, but being in a relationship with her was a whole other level he hadn’t been anticipating. She touched him all the time, ranging from subtle moments, like her fingers trailing over his when she passed him a coffee or a case file, or squeezing his knee under the table when they were at Dave’s for dinner, to more obvious moments. She was a snuggler, something he would never have put money on before their first date. She would wrap herself around him like a vine whenever they were alone, her arm linked through his and her head on his shoulder as they sat on the couch, or she could lay half on top of him in bed, her hand sneaking under his t-shirt as she sought his warmth from the source, falling asleep to the comfort of his heartbeat.

He loved it. He loved that his wife expressed her love that way, that she’d push his hair out of his face as she told him he needed a haircut, that she also loved their children in the same way. It’s one of the reasons he knew Jack and Violet always sought her out for comfort, her embrace was his place of safety too, something so calming about something as simple as her cheek against his shoulder that he wondered how he'd ever lived without it.

He usually loved it, but it was slowly driving him crazy.

He’d dislocated his shoulder in a takedown of an unsub two months ago. The injury had torn his rotator cuff and he’d needed surgery, a simple relocation of his shoulder joint not enough. He could still remember the fear in Emily’s eyes when he’d come round from surgery, how she was barely holding herself together, her grip on his wedding ring that he’d had to take off so tight the imprint lasted for hours. His shoulder had been immobilised with strict instructions on how to make sure he healed properly, and the only time his wife ever paid attention to medical advice to the letter was when it was for him or one of the kids, which had led to one, unfortunate, side effect.

Aaron hadn’t had sex with his wife in two months.

He missed her. She was right by his side, but he missed her. Missed the intimacy that had always been an important part of their relationship. Every tiny thing about her was getting to him the longer they went without having sex. Her beauty was bordering on obscene, as it always had, and his breath would catch in his chest whenever he looked at her, or if she walked by and he caught a sniff of her perfume, the scent he knew was simply her always following just afterwards. Even watching her with Jack and Violet, watching how good a mother she was filled his gut with want, with the desire to have more children with her as soon as possible.

The touching was, however, by far the worst. Every time she touched him he felt his skin fizz, sparks set off just by the feel of her skin against his, and he was close to losing his mind.

He hears a knock on his office door and he looks up, a smile immediately breaking out across his face when he sees Emily standing in the doorway, her arms crossed as she casually leans against the door frame.

“Hey honey,” she says, stepping into the office, “Are you ready to go? We, and by we I mean you, promised Vi we’d pick up some dessert on the way home.”

He chuckles as he thinks about his 2, almost 3, year old daughter. She was a mini Emily through and through, right down to the big dark brown eyes he couldn’t say no to. He stands up and starts to put some paperwork in his briefcase, and he raises his eyebrow at his wife as he looks up at her.

“You say that like you can say no to her,” he quips, stepping out from behind his desk and walking over to her, quickly stamping his lips against hers.

She hums and kisses him again, her hand hooking around the back of his head, making him shiver as she scratches lightly at his scalp, “We both know I’m the bad cop at home, baby,” she says, kissing him once more before she pulls back, “One of us has to be.”

He laughs, the sound dying in his throat when she reaches out and places her hand on his chest, rubbing gently at the lapel on his jacket. He can feel her touch through his clothes, her skin somehow burning him through his jacket and his shirt, and he tenses before he can control it. Emily frowns at him, her eyebrows pinching together as she pulls back.

“You had some lint on you,” she explains, pressing her lips together as she looks him up and down, her eyes slightly narrowed as she tries to figure out what's wrong, “Aaron are you okay? Is your shoulder bothering you?”

It’s not a lie, not really, because his shoulder was sore. A now familiar ache that got worse throughout the day, radiating outwards from the new scar he bore. It was easier than explaining to her how he was feeling, less embarrassing than admitting he wanted her so much he was thinking about pushing everything off his desk right here and now.

There were still two weeks until the doctor’s initial advice would run out, and he knew it was going to be the longest two weeks of his life.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling softly at her, rolling his shoulder slightly, “It just aches a bit.”

She hums and places her hand on it, her concern deepening when he tenses again, “How about when the monsters are in bed I give you a massage?”

He falters for a moment, sure that would be his undoing, but instead, he nods and decides to deflect as he places his hand on her lower back and guides her out of his office.

“Why do you get to call them monsters, but I don’t?” He asks, knowing exactly what her answer is going to be.

She scoffs playfully and looks up at him, her eyes narrowed, “Because one of them came out of me.”

___

By the time they get the kids to bed, he thinks she’s forgotten. The evening had passed them by with homework, bath time, and bedtime stories, a wonderfully normal evening they both once thought they’d never get.

He walks into their bedroom to find her kneeling on the bed, wearing one of his t-shirts and a tiny pair of shorts sticking out from underneath, with a bottle of lotion in hand.

She smiles at him, popping open the lid on the lotion as she beckons him over, “Come on, honey,” she says, “I promised you a massage.” She sees the slight hesitation before he walks over, and she hides a smirk by clearing her throat. He sits on the edge of the bed and she rolls her eyes, placing the lotion on the bed before she runs her hands over his shoulders, her fingers meeting at his neck as she starts to undo his shirt buttons, “This works better if you don’t wear your shirt.”

He nods and helps her get his shirt off, grateful that he’d slipped his tie off when he got home earlier, and he lets the shirt fall to the ground. She puts some of the lotion into her hands and rubs them together before she touches him, warming her palms and the lotion at the same time.

It’s only when she starts spreading it on his skin, her touch firm but gentle as she pushes her thumbs into his bad shoulder, that he realises she’s using her lotion. One that had a slight spice to it, a scent of cinnamon that followed her everywhere that was now permeating into his skin. He groans, his teeth clenched as he breathes her in, widening his legs as his pants get tighter.

She frowns, ready to pull away just in case she is hurting him, but then she looks over his shoulder, her lips pressed together as her cheeks flush when she sees the tenting of his pants. She makes a snap decision, wiping her palms on her shirt to get rid of the excess lotion before she climbs out from behind him.

“What are you doing?” He asks, his eyebrow raised as she kneels on the floor in front of him, her hands already on his belt, undoing it quickly.

“Come on, Aaron,” she says, unbuttoning his pants and moving them and his boxers just far enough to free him, “It hasn’t been that long,” she says, smiling in a way that seemed far too innocent for where her hand was, “I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me,” she says, pumping him up and down, “Let me help.”

He nods, not needing any convincing, and his eyes drift shut as she leans forward and takes him in her mouth. He wraps his fists around the sheets of the bed so tightly he thinks they might rip.

“Fuck, Em. You’re so good at that,” he says, unable to stop himself from thrusting into her throat, the pressure that had been building him in for weeks threatening to blow, “So fucking good.”

She leans forward until her nose briefly presses against his pubic bone before she pulls back, sucking in a breath before she moves in again, bobbing her head up and down, his chorus of groans her reward. She has to press her thighs together for some friction, so turned on by seeing and hearing him like this that she briefly forgets why it had been so long since they’d done this in the first place. She can feel him start to lose control, his thrusts getting messier, but he stops her, his hand on her shoulder as he encourages her backwards, a desperate look in his eyes.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting rid of the spit that had connected her lip to the tip of him and she tilts her head, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he says, pushing his hands through her hair that he’d clearly messed up, unaware that he’d even grasped it, “I just want to be with you.”

She smiles devilishly, her tongue pressed into her cheek, chasing the taste of him from it, “You are with me.”

He rolls his eyes at her. He’d missed this too, the ease that came with being with her like this, the familiarity to it. It could be rough, passionate. Tearing each other’s clothes off. Or it could be soft. Full of love and hands pressed together as they showed each other how much they loved each other.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart,” he says, and she smiles and nods, standing up from where she’d been kneeling. She pulls his pants off the rest of the way and then stands up, ready to straddle him, her desire making her dizzy. It’s only when she leans in to kiss him, her gaze briefly lingering on the new scar on his shoulder, and everything comes back into sharp focus.

“Wait,” she says breathlessly, pulling away from him, “We shouldn’t do this, your doctor-”

“Sweetheart,” he cuts her off, barely recognising his own voice because of how thick it is with desire, rough and gravelly as he stares at her, “You started this.”

She scoffs, “I started this? You’re the one who got an erection when I just barely touched your shoulder.”

In any other circumstance, he’s sure he’d laugh. It was so like her to try and start an argument in the middle of sex it made him fall in love with her even more, a feat that always seemed impossible until it happened. He pulls her closer, grateful not for the first time this evening that it wasn’t his dominant shoulder that had been injured, “Because you’re so fucking gorgeous I couldn’t take it anymore.”

She swallows thickly and looks him up and down, desire sparking under her skin. It had been a long two months for her too, her frustration at not being able to have him so intense she’d yelled at Derek twice in the last week alone when he hadn’t deserved it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she admits, her voice cracking slightly. He smiles softly, the pent-up, overwhelming, need for her fading for a moment as he reaches out and cups her cheek, tucking some of her unruly hair behind her ear.

“You never could.”

She thinks about it for a moment before she nods leaning forward to stamp her lips against his before she briefly gets off the bed, dropping her shorts to the ground, “Lean up against the headboard.”

He does as he’s told, and she pulls a pillow from her side of the bed and slots it between his bad shoulder and the headboard, smiling softly when he stamps a grateful kiss against her lips. She sits on his lap, groaning as she notches over him, a noise he returns when he feels just how wet she is.

“Fuck, Em,” he says, his hands on her hips as she pulls her t-shirt off, “I’ve barely even touched you.”

“Yeah, well” she breathes out, rocking her hips over him, “You’re not the only one who’s been missing this,” she says as she wraps her hand around him to guide him into her.

They both groan as she sinks onto him, the familiar stretch making them both breathless for a moment.

“Oh fuck,” she says, her eyes rolling back as her head falls backwards for a moment, her hands on his thighs as she clenches around him, the breath stolen from her lungs as she adjusts to him, “God you feel so good.”

“You do too, sweetheart,” he grunts out, encouraging her closer, tugging at her until they are chest to chest, bare skin pressed against each other as he rests his forehead against hers, “You feel so fucking good.”

She cups his cheeks, her hands on either side of his face as she keeps her forehead against his and starts to rock her hips against his, a sound she could only call a relieved chuckle escaping her as he meets her thrust for thrust.

They fall into a familiar rhythm, a sense of desperation woven through it, their eyes locked together as they both move, lost in the feel of each other. Eventually, he feels her hips start to stutter, and her thighs tremble around him. He reaches between them with his good hand and rubs circles on her clit, smiling as she mewls at him, the sound close to obscene as she buries her face in his neck, just about able to remember their children were sleeping down the hall.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, increasing the pressure on her clit, feeling his own orgasm within reach, “Come for me. Let me feel it.”

She clenches her teeth tightly as she comes, stopping herself from screaming out as her hips buck against him. A spark goes off in her belly and spreads through her entire body, every nerve ending on fire as it washes over her as she moans his name. He isn’t far behind her, the way she clenches around him as she comes the final push he needs, and he buries his face in the top of her hair, her name lost in the dark locks stuck to her with sweat.

They fall into silence, just the sound of their heavy breathing surrounding them. She’s the first to pull back, smiling lazily at him as she kisses him quickly before she pulls back to look at him, checking him over as if she’s looking for damage. She looks at the scar, placing her hand over it as she still tries to catch her breath, “I hope we didn’t make it worse.”

“It’s fine, baby,” he says, kissing her temple and then her cheek, encouraging her to turn her head so he can capture her lips in a kiss, “Besides, since when were you such a stickler for doctor’s orders?”

She playfully narrows her eyes at him but doesn’t pull back, not wanting to put any space between them yet, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Right,” he says jokingly, stamping a kiss against her lower lip, stuck out in a pout she’d always deny, “So it wasn’t you who I caught trying to drive to the store less than two weeks after she had a c-section? My mistake.”

She blows out a breath and shakes her head at him, her cheeks somehow flushing even though the blush from her orgasm had never gone away, “That was totally different.”

He chuckles and kisses her, properly this time, and he smiles as he pulls back, “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

-x-

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mavrintarou · 1 year

Text

[4:38 PM] Oikawa Toru [2]

A little long but I don't think you guys would complain.

Warning: none; just a backstory and flashback between Y/n and Toru; daddy Toru trying his best

First part Third part

Y/n woke up hearing faint crying.

Rubbing her eyes, she sat up, more alert.

Tiredly, she got up and headed out of her bedroom and into her living room, where she could hear a baby’s cries more clearly.

With a sense of familiarity, she unthinkingly lifted the lid to her grand piano, settling on the bench. Her fingers found their place on the keys, effortlessly flowing and allowing the music to emanate from her soul.

Once the melody reverberated throughout her living room, drowning out the baby’s cries, she couldn’t help but hope that it reached out and comforted the little soul on the other side of the wall.

When she returned from her European vacation a couple of nights ago, she initially questioned her senses, believing she was hallucinating when she first heard the faint cries. Following that, she found herself unsure whether the lingering effects of jetlag or the side effects of the sleep medicine she had taken played tricks on her perception.

She navigated her place with the curiosity and determination of Sherlock Holmes. As she drew nearer to the living room wall shared with the neighboring unit, the cries grew increasingly discernible.

Did someone move in while she was away?

She heard a voice mumbling and, like a fool, pressed her ear to the wall to listen.

“..Teo… please, what is wrong? Please go to sleep….”

The baby cries only continued.

Fully awake and aware that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep under these circumstances, Y/n let out a sigh and made her way to the grand piano. Allowing her fingers to dance across the keys gracefully, she played a tune, hoping it either drowned out the baby’s cries or exhausted herself enough to find some rest again.

. .

Y/n’s heart pounded loudly against her chest and into her ears as the music blasting through her earbuds was now blocked out by her heartbeat and the ringing.

“To… Toru…” she stuttered.

She stuttered.

She hasn’t stuttered in years.

Stuttering Y/n.

Her nickname is from school.

Oikawa Toru was standing before her.

Her first love.

Like the first time he spoke to her, her heartbeat raced, and her stomach fluttered.

Her mind was still processing that he lived next door to her. The realization lingered in her thoughts, creating a mix of curiosity and intrigue as she contemplated the proximity and potential connection with her neighbor.

“You’re… you live there?” she pointed to his door, “you… you have a ba – baby?”

She despised how her speech suddenly became plagued with stuttering. The unexpected encounter with the person she loved seemed to have stripped her ability to control her words, leaving her frustrated and self-conscience.

Her heart dropped at the mention of his son. “I… yes, I live there, and I do… it’s just my son, and I thought…”

Just them two only?

“… I’m thankful for you…” he searched her eyes, “my son, Mateo, and I are thankful to you every night for playing for us – “

The baby she was playing the piano for was none other than Oikawa Toru’s son.

“I don’t play for you.” In that moment of emotional turmoil, she snapped and immediately felt guilt wash over her.

That night she lay in bed questioning why he had reappeared in her life again.

After years of healing, moving on, and reminding herself that she deserved someone who would love her unconditionally, including her inherent flaws, she had worked to find self-acceptance. These flaws were not of her choosing but rather intrinsic to her being.

However, on that particular night, when she heard the faint cries again, an inexplicable force within her propelled her forward. Without realizing it, she found herself at her piano, her fingers effortlessly gliding across the keys in a seamless melody dance.

Y/n concluded the fourth piece for the night, holding her breath in anticipation as she strained her ears to listen. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she realized it had become quiet on the other side, a sigh that her music had managed to bring tranquility to the restless soul next door.

. .

[Aoba Josei High School]

Y/n sat quietly at her desk, reviewing, and annotating her notes, when a shadow loomed over her; slowly, her pen stopped moving, and she looked up.

Oikawa Toru, 3rd-year student and captain of the boys’ volleyball team.

“Hi, Y/L/n.”

Y/n nodded her head, a silent hello. Many students knew Y/n rarely spoke unless she had to because of her severe stuttering.

Toru drops down and rests his arms on her desk and chin on them, “can I borrow all your notes?”

Looking down at her color-coordinated notes, she sighs, “… o – okay.”

Toru just looked at her with gleaming eyes, and Y/n raised a brow at him.

“Your voice is cute.” Then, he teased, “please let me know when you are done.” He stood up and patted her head, making Y/n shrink into her seat.

No one aside from her father has ever patted her head.

Toru walked away coolly back to his desk on the other side of the room.

Fixing her hair, she shook her head to rid his lingering touch.

Toru is popular amongst girls and boys; he has brought fame to Aoba Josei High School due to his talent in volleyball.

She quickly copied the notes onto a separate sheet of paper before neatly organizing it into a neat pile. Then, she walked over to Toru and set the stack of documents at the corner of his desk before walking away.

A hand grasped her wrist, stopping her from going any further. Looking over her shoulder, Toru looks at her with a soft expression, “thank you, Y/n.”

Her heart fluttered, and she bowed her head in a silent you’re welcome.

Y/n and her only friend Naomi excitedly squealed over sharing their lunches in the vacant music room.

Naomi quickly opened the cabinet, pulled out the kitchen utensils they’d stored there secretly, and began to dump their food into the bowl.

“Bean sprouts, please?” Naomi asked with her hand out, and Y/n grabbed the small container of fermented bean sprouts to set in her hand. With aspirations of becoming a future physician, Naomi often found herself immersed in her imaginary operating room. As she grabbed two spatulas, she enthusiastically announced her next move, fully embracing the role of a skilled surgeon, “going in to mix the food now.”

Lost in their world, the two girls giggled away, completely unaware of the presence of another student who had just walked into the room.

“Can I join too?” Y/n and Naomi jumped, looking behind their shoulder to see Oikawa Toru behind them with a smile. “I can share mine too,” he holds up his lunch boxes.

“We have a practice game against Karasuno High School tomorrow; you should come to watch,” Toru said coolly, spinning his volleyball on one finger. “Then we can walk home afterward.”

After their last period, he insisted she wait for him so they could walk home together. Y/n tried to play deaf to his request towards the end of the day, but Toru caught up to her quickly with his long legs. He expressed his hurt that she didn’t wait for him when he asked to walk home with her.

Y/n, who didn’t speak much, would always make eye contact before responding, whether with a head nod or shake.

“Aw, how come?” Toru inquired after she shook her head. “Have you seen any of our games before?”

Y/n shook her head, “n – no…”

“Well, you can watch me now; I promise you I am super good.”

I know you are the school’s star, Y/n thought to herself. It has been two weeks since Toru began talking to her, and she has been cautious with him. Unsure what he wanted from her.

He wanted to copy her notes; she would make copies so she wouldn’t have to interact with him to get her messages back.

He wanted to share his lunch with her and Naomi, and she allowed it, and at first, it was awkward, but Toru immediately changed that. He hit it off quickly with Naomi as they shared the same quirky personality.

He wanted to walk her home, and she allowed it since he lived in the same neighborhood, and she would pass his house anyways.

What exactly did Oikawa Toru want from her?

“Y/n.”

She looked up, startled at being lost in her thoughts.

“We have the world geography test coming up; I would appreciate your help.” The playful demeanor is replaced with a serious one. “I need to do well on this test if I want to continue to stay on the volleyball team, and you are our top student in the class. So please, please help me?”

Toru had grown accustomed to her silence when they were together, understanding that he needed to observe her physical response closely as she communicated with him.

She continued to keep her eyes on the ground as they approached their neighborhood.

He was about to lighten the mood and playfully beg her when she answered him in a quiet, hushed voice.

“… when… d – do… you – you… want… t – to… st – stud… study?”

Those were the most words she had ever spoken to him, making him speechless.

“Oh… um… I have practice tomorrow after school, but what days work for you? I can work around it?”

They stopped before his house, and Y/n turned to him, determination beaming from her. She opened her mouth, and he could see her inhale before she answered, “I… will… will co – come o – over on… the week - end.”

Toru’s lips curve, “cool. Can I have your number?”

Y/n frantically combed her hair with her fingers and wiped the drool off the corner of her mouth as her doorbell woke her. She wasn’t expecting anyone, nor did her parents say anyone would stop by as they left to visit her grandparents out of town.

She checked her phone and got a text message from Toru saying he had guests and asked if he could come to her place instead.

That was twenty minutes ago.

She guessed that he must be at her door.

She had fallen asleep at her desk and looked chaotic.

“Hey,” Toru greeted, “you didn’t respond to me, so… did I wake you up from a nap?” He refrained from laughing but found her pouty lips adorable. She must be the type of girl that should not disturb while napping.

“… yes,” she muttered quietly before turning her heels, leaving the door open for him to follow.

She led him into the living room and gestured for him to sit at the coffee table. “We… we can – stu -stud-y… here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Toru saluted and dropped his bag on the ground.

“I will… be right… ba – back.” She left him alone and returned with her materials, snacks, and beverages.

They compared their notes, and Y/n pointed out many errors in his notes.

He watched her correct his notes with her colorful pens, filling in the correct answers.

Schoolwork was a struggle for him; he only cared to do enough to pass, so most of his focus and energy was poured into volleyball. But, unfortunately, volleyball itself wasn’t enough to help him graduate, no matter how good he was at it.

He just needed to graduate; he didn’t care if it was at the top of the class.

His attention shifted over to the beautiful piano. “Do you play?”

Y/n was scribbling an answer when she looked up at him before following his gaze, “… yes….”

“Can you play for me?” She frowned at him, and he begged, “please?”

She ignored his plea and continued to correct his notes before turning it around and pushing it towards him. She looked down at it to indicate for him to look at her annotation.

“You have pretty penmanship.” His eyes scanned all his notes, “yeah… I would have failed this test if you didn’t fix this.”

She tapped his papers, “stu – dy…”

His lips curved downward before he started reading the notes. With the different colored pens and additional notes, she added, he could comprehend the contents. However, he didn’t look up when she got up and walked over to the piano.

Toru’s head snapped towards the piano when he heard it, and she gave him a silent, study or else… look that he quickly abided.

He shook his head with a smile; he liked this new side of her. His fingers continued to flip the pages, and surprisingly, he grasped the information.

A week later, Toru invited himself over every day after volleyball practice to study. By the fourth day, Y/n proved to be a good tutor for Toru; he could memorize all the European countries and their capital.

“That is… Norway… and the capital is… Oslo!”

Y/n adds a green check mark to correct on her whiteboard. She played ten seconds of a random would point to a random European country, and Toru had to guess the country and the capital.

The tip of her pen pointed to a country on the map, and Toru studied it for a second before answering, “Latvia… the capital is... Ri… RIGA.”

Y/n clapped her hands and smiled, checking a green mark on the whiteboard. “N – next…”

The morning of their exam in the European region, Y/n was surprised when he asked her to wait for him so they could walk to school together.

He didn’t need to tell her he was nervous; she could sense it.

“Huh?” he looked at her confused, holding her wired earbuds. She motioned for him to put it on, and he took it from her and slipped them in place. He watched her press play on her small MP3 player before slipping it into his pocket. Immediately, he recognized the soft piano tune Y/n would play while he studied.

Looking at her from the corner of his eyes, she focused ahead, leading them silently to school.

On their walk home after school, Toru was quiet, out of the norm that Y/n was used to.

“Do… y – you think you di – did okay?”

Toru nodded at her, saying, “I think so; I don’t want to be too confident.”

Their test results were announced the following day, and Toru was listed as one of the top 5 students with the highest score and Y/n.

They secretly glanced at one another from across the classroom, and she looked away, smiling.

She was proud of him.

Y/n smiles at the little boy beside Toru.

“Y/n, this is Takeru, my nephew. Unfortunately, he’s got to tag along.” Toru explained, “Takeru, this is Y/n.”

The little boy resembling his uncle, raised a brow at Y/n, “are you his girlfriend?”

Y/n quickly waved her hands, shaking her head no.

“Don’t be rude.” Toru slapped the back of his head, “remember, you’re going to do your homework and behave while Y/n and I study.”

True to his words, Takeru behaved at the other end of the coffee table while Y/n and Toru studied the next region of countries and capitals.

Again, Y/n had to review Toru’s notes, correcting his answers.

“Argh, this is so hard….” Toru complained.

“You’re such a baby,” Takeru mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Y/n nodded her head with a smile. She tapped her pen on the table to get Toru’s attention and motioned him to get up. She returned his notes to him and muttered, “… study.”

He sighed and looked at her pleadingly, “can you play the piano for me? Maybe a different tune this time so I can use it to remember these countries and capital that helped me with the last exam.”

Y/n nodded, heading to the piano.

Toru’s fist shot in the air as he scored top 5 students with the highest score for the latest exam.

“Are you cheating?” Iwaizumi glared at him suspiciously. “You’re usually top 5 with the lowest score.”

Toru shot him a glare, “how rude, Iwa-chan.”

“Oikawa has been getting help from Stuttering Y/n.” Matsukawa snickers, “maybe I need to get help from her too.” He received a glare from Toru, silently saying back off. “How is it going with the bet?”

“What bet?” Iwa asked, looking at Toru.

“Nothing,” he muttered, “it’s time for practice; let’s go.”

Y/n’s head tilted, seeing Takeru at her door without his uncle. “H – hi?”

“Can I hang out with you until my uncle comes home?”

Opening the door wider, Y/n gestured for him to come in. “A – are you… hun – gry?”

Takeru turned to look at her and nodded, “yes.”

“Do – do you – your uncle know you… are he – here?”

His expression told her no.

Grabbing her phone, she texted Toru informing him his nephew was at her house.

“Wha – what do you like to… eat?”

Takeru smiled, “anything.”

Toru runs all the way home, past his resident, and straight to Y/n’s.

He rings the doorbell multiple times before the door opens. “Takeru,” he growled. “You were supposed to stay home…” He stares at Takeru, sitting where he usually sits when he studies with Y/n, does homework, and watches a show.

If there’s one thing he had in common with Takeru besides volleyball, it is avoiding school work.

But the boy was doing his homework with Y/n.

“He didn’t fight you, did he?”

Y/n frowned, “… no?”

Toru gawk, “he did his homework without putting up a fight?”

Takeru glared at his uncle, “unlike you, Y/n promised we could watch TV if I promised to study; she called it multitasking.”

Y/n successfully helped Toru pass the world geography exam, sectioned off by regions.

Toru can’t remember when he was proud of his test scores. He glances over at Y/n, and she’s busy as usual, annotating her notes.

It was always a given that Y/n would score the highest in the class, but due to her speech-impair, she refused to be the class president.

“As usual, Y/n ranked 1st for the highest score on this exam,” Kaiya, the Class President, spoke with slight annoyance in her tone. She was ranked 4th. “But we have a new student who scored exceptionally high, Oikawa-kun!” She ushered Toru to stand for the class to give him a round of applause. “Good job on your hard work, Oikawa-kun!”

Toru waved his hand, thanking his class, and he looked over at Y/n, who gave him a small smile, clapping her hands. He smiled and nodded his head towards her, a silent thank YOU.

Toru sat in her living room, where he usually sat when they studied, setting the volleyball while Y/n was examining her new music piece at her piano. “You know,” he piped, catching his volleyball and looking at her. He waited until Y/n to cast her eyes at him, “the one thing we have in common is that we’re both good with our hands.”

Her brow raised, and Toru mentally slapped himself at how wrong that could be interpreted.

“Fingers,” he corrected, hoping her mind didn’t go down the gutters like his. “You’re good at the piano, and I’m good with…” balls, he almost said. “Setting the volleyball to my teammates. Both our fingers require good coordination, right?”

Y/n’s chin tilted as if she was evaluating his theory and then nodded, focusing on her music sheet.

Quite frankly, she wasn’t sure why Toru was over now that the exam was over. She didn’t question when he came to her door and invited himself in. She didn’t have the heart to ask him why he was over.

Her focus was distracted when she flinched, realizing how close he was to her. He was practically hovering over her. “How do you read this?”

The same way you read your teammates on the court, Y/n answered in her head.

“Can you teach me how to play the piano too? Nothing too hard yet?”

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes before sighing and scooting over on the bench to allow him to sit.

“See…” Toru complemented, setting the ball back in her direction, “you’re a pro at this!”

Y/n was a bit stiff, but after a few tosses, she got the hang of it and set the ball back and forth with Toru. She was able to catch on quickly, mimicking his movements.

Toru was surprised at how fast she picked up on it. “You’re actually… really good at this.”

By instinct, Toru took the opportunity to smack the ball at one of her pretty tosses, and as soon as his palm contacted the ball, his eyes widened, realizing what he just did. But to his surprise, though, Y/n stepped back, and her hands came together to receive and return the ball.

Toru wiped his face for the nth time. His stupid tears keep falling. His mind is still processing the loss to Karasuno High School, their last chance, and he hopes to make it to nationals.

He parted from Iwa and walked home alone, where his mind was attacking him from every direction.

If only he had more control to receive or return Hinata’s hit…

If only he had positioned himself a few centimeters to the right and had better posture…

If only he weren’t a failure that let his team down…

“Toru…”

Looking up, Toru stopped seeing Y/n standing at his residence’s gates. He had seen her earlier during the game but had forgotten she was there after the loss. He was happy to see her sitting in the crowd.

“Hey,” his voice croaked, unable to look at Y/n in the eye. Afraid that he might break down.

Y/n took a step towards him, her eyes solely focused on his.

Her shoes were in his sight, and he finally looked at her.

She wasn’t looking at him with pity like others did; she looked at him with soft eyes that eased his heart.

She lifted her arms, silently inviting him for a hug, and Toru choked and stepped forward to throw his arms around her, crushing her to him.

. .

[Present day]

Y/n is woken up by a bright light and flinches, blinking a few times before remembering that she is stuck in the elevator with Toru and Mateo.

After some time, the three made themselves as comfortable as they waited to be rescued. She remembered resting her eyes, sitting silently with Toru, and must have fallen asleep at one point. The baby was still profoundly sleeping in her arms, nestled against her chest.

Toru looked at her, and then his son was about to speak when the elevator began moving immediately, and the doors slid open on the next floor, revealing a crew of firefighters.

They hurried to get the three out and conduct an evaluation before releasing them.

For safety protocol, Toru and Y/n walked the two remaining flights up to their floor. Y/n continued to carry Mateo, who was awake now and dazed, while Toru carried his stroller.

They stood in the lobby of their floor in awkward silence before she handed Mateo back to his father, “Well, that was quite the day. I’ll see you guys.”

Toru looked disappointed but nodded, “yeah, thanks for your help today with Mateo.”

Y/n reaches and gently pinches Mateo’s cheek and coos, “bye, Mateo.” He blinks at her, still dazed after a long nap. She waved her hand at him before turning her heels to her unit.

She closed the door behind her shut and stood against it.

It had been quite a while since she last dreamed about their high school days.

“I gotta go.” Y/n grabs her jacket, “I’ll see you guys next time.”

She called it a night early with some other pianists as they meet up occasionally to socialize. They were all socially awkward and found comfort and support in each other in public without the only thing they had in common, the piano.

They were great friends she had made through the years.

Shiwoo, a pianist visiting from South Korea, nagged, “already? It’s only almost 8 pm?”

Y/n fixed the collar of her jacket, “I know; I have something I need to do.” She grabbed her wallet and phone, “don’t get too drunk.” She escaped before more questions could be asked.

She returned to her apartment and caught the elevator before it could close. Looking at her watch, Y/n sighed as the elevator took her to her floor much slower.

She bolted out of the elevator and quickly pressed the buttons on her door to get inside. Her jacket was already thrown on her couch as she headed straight to the piano.

She already heard the faint whimpering from the other side of the wall.

Sorry, Mateo, I’m here!

She was a little later tonight than usual, but her fingers immediately began pressing the keys. She was starting to run out of pieces to play with and would need to pull out her old practice books from the shelves.

Y/n released the breath she was holding and paused after the fourth piece. She frowned when the whimpers earlier were now a full-blown weep.

“Is something wrong?” She whispered to herself; he usually would be asleep or calm by now.

He sounded upset, and suddenly, his cries were silent.

Y/n shot up from her bench and pressed her ear to the wall; she couldn’t hear Mateo.

She recoiled when her doorbell rang, and she hurried towards the door.

Opening the door immediately, Toru steps into her sight with Mateo wailing in his arms, tears streaking down his chubby cheeks. “Y/n…”

She reached out and gently grabbed the upset baby and rocked him against her chest, “shh, it’s okay, Mateo…” the poor baby heaved against her chest, clearly out of breath.

She motioned for Toru to step inside and closed the door behind him. “What happened?” she whispered, comforting the baby and leading them to her living room.

Toru rubbed his face, depleted. She could see the dark circles around his eyes and the 5 o’clock shadow stubs around his jaw. “He’s running a fever and not taking the bottle….”

Y/n pressed her cheek to the baby’s head, feeling the abnormal body heat. “Let’s give him a bath; that should help cool him down.”

Toru immediately led them to his place and started a bath while Y/n undressed the baby; he was calm now but exhausted.

She wiped him with a bath cloth as he tiredly kicked his legs in the water. She looked up at Toru, “do you want to make him a bottle and see if he’ll take it?”

Toru returned shortly with a bottle, kneeling beside her and nudging the bottle to his lips before he latched on and suckled hungrily. He sighed in relief. “Thank goodness… Thank you, Y/n…” his voice cracked, and he leaned his head on Y/n’s shoulder. “Thank goodness for you.”

Toru woke up in his bed and immediately reached over to feel for Mateo and felt an empty spot. He sat up quickly and covered his eyes from the sun shining brightly into his room. He then remembered the long night and went to Y/n for help desperately.

“Ah!” Y/n had ordered him to rest, pointing out that he couldn’t care for Mateo if he wasn’t feeling well. She offered to handle Mateo while he slept.

He bolted out of his room, feeling recharged. His feet freeze when he sees Y/n and Mateo sleeping soundlessly on the couch.

. . .

E/n: If you've read Surge Towards You (manhwa) - baby Yiho is exactly how I picture Mateo.

Credits to the rightful owner.

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @rukia-uchiha-98 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @anejuuuuoy @tooruchiiscribs @mommyourcall420 @haikyuubiggestsimp @lilguycoded @random-734 @ghostlyneckoaftoad @abdce12345

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu oikawa toru #haikyuu oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fic #oikawa fluff #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa toru x you #oikawa toru x y/n #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #daddy oikawa toru #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #oikawa angst

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chahnniesroom · 7 months

Text

tenderness | chapter 9: a time to learn

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 6.8k

chapter warnings: injury recovery, lots of emotions happening

a/n: no words can describe how difficult this chapter was to write haha i apologise for some of the transitions between scenes and also for the fact that i did not proofread more than a cursory skim.

i am not a doctor and i did minimal research on anything medical related

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

Chan’s not a doctor and he’s never wanted to be one. But the longer that he spends in the hospital, the more he wishes there was something he could do to help. He knows that in a way, his presence is helping. The doctor tells him that for injuries, a soulmate bond is actually beneficial because sufficient Charge can increase healing times.

The doctor also explains that the more serious injury is the initial stab wound. The blade had damaged Y/n’s liver, which had required surgery and now demands constant monitoring. It was the main reason that Y/n would have to stay in the hospital for an extended period of time. While the second wound was larger and required more stitches, it was fairly shallow and was expected to heal without any issues.

As expected, there’s various bruises from the fall, but what surprises Chan is that he’s told Y/n is suffering from a mild concussion. When he had watched the footage that he had saved from social media, he could see that Y/n may have hit her head, but it hadn’t seemed that hard.

It means that Chan hasn’t left the hospital yet. It doesn’t really help that Y/n was specifically brought to the hospital that her father owns and that she’s situated in one of the nicest rooms available. With a large private bathroom, a separate room that has a few couches and low tables to entertain guests, and a large bed that’s almost more comfortable than the one Chan has at home, there’s no reason to leave. Yonghwan has been going back to the dorms to collect clothes and other personal items, like Chan’s laptop and some equipment. After a few days, the boys are allowed to visit too, although only in small groups and for short periods of time.

Chan kind of hates the medications that Y/n is put on. He knows that she needs them to deal with the pain, to protect her from infection, it's just difficult to witness how they make her woozy and extremely tired, drifting in and out of consciousness. When she is awake, her thoughts are scattered, she can’t concentrate for long periods of time, and she spends most of the time watching Chan as he works or dozing.

It's a relief when she's finally weaned off of the ones that have the worst side effects.

Although she gets her phone back pretty soon after waking, Y/n doesn’t really touch it until her doctor lets her know that her concussion has healed and she’s been cleared to look at screens without any limitations. Chan has helped her with messaging some of her friends and family, but she seems pleased to have full access to her phone again. Chan leaves her to catch up on everything, taking out his laptop and opening up a track that he’s been trying half-heartedly to finish a first draft of.

He gets pulled away from his work a couple hours later when Y/n calls his name. She’s biting at her lip and staring with a furrowed brow at something on her phone. He immediately sets aside his laptop and turns to face her, trying not to worry.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Did you- I saw-” Y/n takes a second to gather herself and then flips her phone to show him what she’s looking at. It’s a Twitter fanpage, dedicated to Chan’s Bubble subscription. The last tweets are the updates to his profile picture, background photo, name, and status.

He did it in a fit of anger, knowing it was about as much as he could do without getting in trouble with the company. He wouldn’t dare send any messages about the incident, especially ones that could be twisted the wrong way and end up hurting Y/n, but he couldn’t just sit and pretend everything was okay.

So he deleted it all. Or, rather as much as he could. Replacing the pictures with solid black, leaving the status line empty. He didn’t have as much freedom with his name, but left it as “찬“ and nothing more. He hadn’t sent anything since then, either.

The other members hadn’t changed anything on their profile, but they too had been subdued in their messaging. The first couple of days, they did nothing. After that, Changbin, Jisung, and Felix joined Chan in the continued radio silence. Hyunjin had sent pictures of the sunset, when it was Y/n’s favourite time of the day and the clouds were painted pink against the blue background of the sky. Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin had messaged only a couple times since then, reminders for Stays to eat well, get lots of rest, and stay safe.

There hadn’t been an official statement released by the company, but news of the incident had spread like wildfire.

“And yesterday was Sunday,” Y/n says slowly. “You were here the whole time, what about Channie’s Room?”

“What about it?”

“You didn’t do it?” When Chan just shrugs in response, Y/n’s brow creases like she’s trying to figure out some sort of puzzle. “What? But you… You always do it. Did the company tell you that you can't?”

“No, they didn't have to. I already let them know I wasn't going to."

"Then why?"

“I didn’t want to. I don’t want to,” Chan says sullenly, even though the explanation makes him feel like a toddler who doesn’t want to share their toys.

“What do you mean? It’s- You promised Stays! Here you can go now, just go to your studio and do a short live. If this is some sort of roundabout punishment for what happened-”

“I don’t want to,” Chan repeats. “All they’re going to do is spam the chat with questions about what happened. I don’t want to deal with that and honestly I don’t know if I can go through that without blowing up on them.”

"But-"

"Is it really so hard to believe that I have had other priorities the past few days? That I don't want to have to pretend that everything is okay?"

Y/n seems to soften at that. Chan reaches out and he catches her hand in his, mindful of the tape and IV that’s attached to it. The Charge warms between them.

“No, no, I’m sorry. It’s-” she hesitates for a moment. “I’m glad that you’re taking a break. Sorry if it felt like I was pressuring you.”

“You weren’t. Everything that I’m doing, it’s my decision. I know everything has been pretty overwhelming lately, but you’re-”

Before he can finish, the door to their room slides open and a nurse steps in to serve them dinner.

“What were you going to say?” Y/n asks once they’re alone again.

“I don’t remember anymore,” Chan lies. “So it probably wasn’t that important. Let’s eat.”

Chan’s almost glad for the interruption. The moment is gone now and Chan’s just now realising that he has no idea how Y/n would react if he had said what he wanted. That she was his biggest priority right now. That he cares about her. That he would do anything for her.

He’ll do that later, when they’re at home. When everything has calmed down.

—

Chan wakes to the loud smack of someone’s hand against a table. His face is burrowed into the soft fabric covering Y/n’s shoulder, his arm is wrapped around her waist, and the whole length of his body relaxed by the warm thrum of the Charge. He cracks open one eye and, after seeing that neither Y/n nor Eunsung, who was the source of the noise, have seemed to notice, quickly closes it to feign sleep.

When Eunsung speaks, his tone is exasperated, like he’s had this conversation multiple times before.

“Are you even listening to yourself? You can’t keep doing this. You have to talk to him about it,” he insists. “The doctor said you have acute fatigue and the only reason it’s getting better is because the two of you are practically glued together right now. The second that he starts going back to schedules, it’s going to be the same as it was before.”

“I was doing fine before,” Y/n defends herself. “Things just got so busy with all the concerts, I forgot to eat enough. As long as I make sure that I’m getting enough calories, it makes up for the Charge. I promise, I'll make sure to take better care of myself."

Chan has no clue what they’re talking about. Acute fatigue? Y/n not eating enough? Chan hasn’t heard anything on these before.

"I don't think you understand. It's not about you doing things to take better care of yourself, it's about him not letting you take care of yourself. If you Charged for at least 6 hours a day then you wouldn't have to worry about eating more than you used to. You shouldn't have to be making up for anything," Eunsung argues.

"Listen, Eunsung-oppa," she says. "I know you're saying this because you're concerned, but I know what I'm doing. This is… This is bigger than just Chan-ssi and I. He's not just my soulmate, he's the leader of Stray Kids, a producer for 3RACHA. It's- The work that he does- What I see on Twitter, the comments on Youtube, the posts on community. He has the power to reach so many people and make lives better. And he does. He’s such a good person. How can I do anything but support him in any way I can? Even if that means letting him push himself without stepping in, then I'll do it. I trust that he knows his own limits."

“And if that means him ignoring your limits?”

“Eunsung-oppa-” Y/n protests.

"You've talked to him about it," Eunsung interrupts her, clearly able to read something in her tone of voice.

"Yeah, I- I understand how you feel, being on that side of it. I thought that I could convince him, but it turns out that he convinced me instead."

"But the conversation you were having, it was about him taking care of himself instead of you prioritising your needs, wasn't it?" he presses. Y/n confirms, but it sounds reluctant.

“He didn’t want to hear it. He was… I don’t know. I don’t want to say what he said to me.”

“And he never brought it up again?”

“He did, kind of. He said sorry the next day. And I know he’s sorry. I know some of the things that he said were just in the heat of the moment. I get it, I really do. He was stressed, tired, we probably weren’t getting enough Charge, even then. But… It hurt. What he said,” Y/n says, her voice small. “What he really meant. It still hurts a little, every time I think about it. Every time I see him.”

"Sometimes you two are too similar. You’re both just pretending you’re fine, but you’re not. I know Chan, maybe not as well as you, but in a different way. He’s not the type to just let this type of thing slide. As much as I hate him right now for making you hurt, if he doesn’t know that you’re hurting, then there’s no way that things will be fixed. I think you need to talk again, if he cares about you at all then he wouldn't just let this go."

"I think you're overestimating our relationship a bit."

"What? Even after the past few months, you guys aren't close?"

“I’m not delusional, I never had fantasies of us immediately falling in love like in the movies or shows, I just,” she shrugs with the shoulder the Chan wasn’t curled up against. “I don’t know, I just thought that we could be friends or something.”

“You wouldn't even consider yourself to be friends?” Eunsung says in a low voice.

“Actually, at one point I did think we were friends… or maybe more,” Y/n admits with a hollow laugh. “I was wrong. His attitude keeps changing, I can’t keep track of it. One second he’s annoyed at me for nagging him and the next he’s carrying me to bed because I fell asleep on the couch. But wherever we’re arguing, it feels like it’s always my fault. And I know, I know that I’m hard to be around. It’s just hard. The moments of… care, they were an illusion. It was all fake, like kids playing house. He can tolerate me of course, but in the end, I'm just someone he works with.”

"You don't think that if he were to hear what you're saying, he would be sad?" Eunsung asks. Y/n stays silent for a while.

“I don't know. What he said to me. I thought a lot about it. I- I want to make his life better, but I think… I think I make it worse. I don’t understand why we’re soulmates, I can think of a million people who would be better for him than me,” she finally confesses, voice sounding wet.

Eunsung shifts forward, but before he can speak, a nurse knocks on the door and lets herself in. It’s enough noise that Chan takes it as an opportunity to pretend to wake up. When Y/n notices, she looks back towards the nurse and quickly sits up straighter so that Chan's arm naturally falls away from where it’s wrapped around her.

“I think you should go to the company, Chan-ssi,” Y/n suggests after the nurse has finished redressing her wound and has left. Her voice is back to normal, upbeat even, and if Chan hadn't been awake then he wouldn't have been able to tell she had just been in a heavy conversation. It’s scary how easily she can mask her emotions. “I don’t want you to fall behind because of all the time you’ve been spending here. Eunsung is already heading there, he can give you a ride.”

“What am I, a chauffeur?” Eunsung mutters, but he stands up and gathers his things without waiting for an answer. “Come on, let’s go.”

Normally, Chan would protest being ordered around, but at this point he’s just grateful to have some space to process what he just heard. He knows that Minho and Jisung were planning to visit soon and that Felix would be dropping by shortly after, so at least he feels somewhat comfortable leaving Y/n alone. He feels lightheaded and… bad in a way that he can’t describe. It's different than when he first found out that Y/n was hurt. Now it's almost like he’s dissociating, but worse because having an out-of-body experience would be better than the heavy press of emotions that he feels now. It’s clogging up his airways and all he can do is focus on following Eunsung out of the room.

Chan hasn’t had many opportunities to interact with Eunsung, but he knows for sure that they were never as tense as they are right now. It’s understandable though, after what he just heard. When Chan starts toward the lane where he usually gets picked up and dropped off, Eunsung instead steers him toward the parkade.

“This way, superstar. Unlike you, I actually have the freedom to drive myself.” Chan barely notices the thinly veiled jab, he’s still reeling from the conversation. He can’t think of a comeback and really, doesn’t feel like he deserves to give a rebuttal.

When they finally stop in front of a car, Chan catches himself right before reaching for the back car door instead of the one to sit shotgun.

The pair sit in silence for the first half of the ride, until Eunsung finally speaks up.

“You know, you don’t deserve her,” Eunsung says, eyes trained on the road ahead.

“And you do?” Chan fires back, thinking of all the rumours he’s heard from the rest of the staff, the giggles he hears whenever Eunsung interacts with Y/n. Although his guilt is creeping up and clouding his thoughts, his first instincts are to feel defensive.

Y/n is his soulmate, not Eunsung’s.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, I’ve seen how close the two of you are.” He tries hard to not sound too accusatory, but instead his words come out as overly bitter.

"Yeah, we're friends."

"And is that all you want to be?"

In response, Eunsung just laughs incredulously. “What? Even you thought- You think that I like Y/n? I’m-” He can’t even finish his thoughts before he starts to laugh again. “Of course I like her, but she’s like a sister to me.”

“Of course you would say that-”

“I’m married, Chan."

"What?" Chan exclaims. "But, but everyone was saying you- I thought- Who are you married to?"

"Saerom. I've definitely mentioned her before, I know for sure that Y/n has too."

“Oh,” he says dumbly, “I thought- I thought Saerom was the name of your dog.”

"What?!" Eunsung turns to gape at Chan.

“How was I supposed to know? You said you have to take her on walks otherwise she gets too restless, you talk about buying her treats! You said she doesn’t like it when you’re travelling for too long, it sounds like how Berry gets when the family goes on vacation. Just because she has a human name doesn't mean she is a human. I've never seen a picture of her either."

“Oh, I cannot wait to tell Y/n about this.” Eunsung continues to laugh while Chan hides his face in his hands. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire. He’s relieved that Eunsung isn’t secretly in love with Y/n but also mortified that he thought his wife was a dog. At this point, opening the car door and flinging himself out doesn’t sound like a bad idea to get himself out of this conversation.

“You don’t wear a ring,” he says, probably digging himself further into the hole he’s currently in.

In response, Eunsung hooks a finger under the collar of his shirt and pulls out a chain, a ring dangling on the end of it. They turn into the company parking lot and Eunsung kills the engine, turning to face Chan directly.

“Chan-ssi,” he says seriously. “I know that there are rumours about a relationship between Y/n and I. She knows about them too. I’m not deaf to the chatter or the way they react when we’re together. Just, is it really so bad if people suspect that the two of us are soulmates? And I’m not saying this because I enjoy all the rumours. It’s because I know that they mask any sort of interactions that you have with her. If any other staff finds out that you’ve been visiting her in the hospital, they wouldn’t think anything of it other than you being concerned because she’s a manager and you were right there when it happened.”

Even though Chan doesn’t like the idea, he knows that Eunsung is right. It’s safer this way. He just has to get used to swallowing the possessive part of him that wants to publicly declare his soulmate bond. He can do this if it means protecting Y/n.

“You’re right,” Chan says quietly.

“I know all of this must be hard for you and even harder if you didn’t know about Saerom. Just know, we’d never do anything outside of being friends, I promise. If you don’t trust me, then at least trust Y/n. And,” he hesitates for a moment. “I know you heard our conversation earlier.”

“What?”

“I saw when you woke up. You’re not as good of an actor as you think you are, but luckily for you, I don’t think Y/n noticed.”

“I- I really messed things up, didn’t I?” Chan says, feeling defeated.

“I’ll be honest, it’s going to be difficult, fixing your relationship. Y/n is very independent. It’s definitely one of her strengths, but it’s also a big weakness. She doesn’t ask for help, even if she needs it and she’s very hard on herself. You know her family, she’s used to doing things on her own. She’s trying her best with this whole soulmate situation and she was really opening up. She trusted you.”

The past tense in his sentence shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

“You hurt her,” Eunsung continues. “But I know Y/n will forgive you. She cares about you, a lot. If it wasn’t obvious by… everything that has happened so far. You just have to talk to her.”

“I- Thank you, Eunsung,” Chan finally says. “Thank you for being there for her, for helping with all of… this. I’m sorry.”

“You’re a good person, Chan-ssi. I want things to work out between the two of you.” Abruptly, Eunsung’s tone hardens. “But if you make a habit of hurting her, just know that sasaengs will be the least of your worries.”

—

Chan forces himself to try and be productive for at least an hour in his studio before resigning himself to the reality that he wouldn’t be able to get anything done with how distracted he is. He spends the whole time wishing that he was back at the hospital.

Right as he’s about to call it a day, Jisung- who has just arrived after visiting Y/n and assures him that she’s still doing okay- and Changbin join him. They’ve actually been getting work done in the past few days and quickly run through the progress that they’ve made. Even with their presence, Chan’s attention span is practically non-existent. Everything seems to remind him of Y/n.

He ends up staying until the sun starts to set. When Changbin and Jisung start to discuss dinner options, he takes the opportunity to pack up his things.

“Hyung, are you not joining us?” Changbin asks.

“Sorry-” Chan starts saying.

“Hyung just wants to go and see Y/n again. He doesn’t care about us anymore,” Jisung whines playfully.

“That’s not true!” Chan says indignantly.

“You don’t have to lie, just make it up to us.”

“Anything,” Chan agrees.

“Have dinner back at the dorms with us tomorrow,” Jisung says instantly. “You need to bring new clothes to the hospital anyway, you can save Yonghwan-hyung a trip this way.”

Chan realises this was his plan all along and reluctantly agrees. Logically, he knows that nothing will happen to Y/n while he’s away, he just feels better being able to see it with his own eyes.

—

When he gets back to the hospital, he’s surprised to find Y/n just staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She doesn’t react to the sound of the door opening or Chan’s greeting while he had closed it again. He approaches her cautiously, afraid of startling her, but still manages to make her jump when he gets into her field of vision.

“Oh!” she says breathlessly, putting a hand to her chest. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were back.” She automatically smiles at him.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, just had a weird day,” she says in that same strange voice she had back in Japan. Chan is starting to realise it means that she’s hiding something.

“Y/n-”

“Maybe it’s just because you were gone. Not to be clingy or anything, I’m glad that you were finally able to go to the company and get some real work done, but I’ve gotten used to having you attached to my side,” she jokes. It’d be convincing if her voice was more steady, if her smile reached her eyes.

“Uhm,” Chan says, not quite sure if he should pursue the topic further or go along with Y/n’s attempt to gloss over it. “I’m sorry, I promised that I’d go back for dinner tomorrow.”

Y/n rolls her eyes at that. “You don’t have to apologise for that! I’m glad that you’re finally getting to see them after being cooped up here. They're your family, you have to spend time with them.”

“I wasn’t forced to stay here though! I want to be here, I want to be with you. You're my family too,” Chan says earnestly.

Y/n's lips press tightly together at that and she breaks eye contact.

“How about this, Eunsung-oppa was planning to come by tomorrow sometime anyway. He said that he’d bring me some non-hospital food and I couldn’t say no,” she says instead of responding to Chan’s comment. “Felix wanted to come by again too, so you can go home at the same time as him. I’ll tell Eunsung-oppa to come by around dinnertime so you don’t feel like you’re leaving me behind, is that okay?”

“Okay, but promise me that if anything happens then just call me and I’ll come back.”

“I promise.”

—

Dinner with the members is rowdy as usual, maybe even moreso. Chan doesn’t think much of it, happy to have a distraction from his thoughts, until he takes a second too long to respond to someone and catches a couple of concerned glances. He realises that the boys are being overly rambunctious to keep him present. It warms his heart and makes him feel guilty at the same time.

After eating, Jisung slumps onto the couch, stretching out so that his feet hang over the side. Chan joins him, smothering him in affection before he leaves for the night. He knows that Jisung has been more anxious than usual these past few days and although he wishes he could do more to help him, his biggest priority at the moment is Y/n.

“Minho-hyung and I met Y/n’s family yesterday,” Jisung says, voice muffled from being pressed against Chan.

Chan bolts upright, accidentally elbowing Jisung in the process, forcing a groan out of him.

“What? When?” he demands. His mind is racing, finally able to sort out Y/n’s strange behaviour when he had last seen her.

“I forgot to mention it at the studio, but when I was visiting, they also showed up. I don’t really know what I was expecting, but they seemed alright.”

“Just alright?” Chan prompts him, trying to calm his heart rate which has spiked.

“Uhm, I mean her parents were very… polite. They spoke to Y/n privately so I just met them briefly.”

“Where did you go?”

“Her brother, Siwon, I forgot he’s a doctor too. He took me to a private lounge they had, there weren’t any people around which was good. He seemed nice, concerned about Y/n.”

“Well not that concerned,” Chan mutters darkly, “since he didn’t even bother to visit until yesterday.”

Jisung stares at him, clearly shocked by the sudden vitriol.

“Sorry,” Chan says, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up wildly. “It’s just been a lot these days, my emotions are everywhere.”

“It’s okay, hyung,” Jisung says cautiously. “It’s been a lot for all of us, but mostly you and Y/n.”

Chan hums in agreement, but still feels bad.

“You can go back now if you want,” Jisung prompts him.

“What? No, I-”

“I can tell you’re distracted,” he says. “Go, we’ll still be here when she’s better.”

Chan goes.

—

The route to the hospital and through the back entrance is becoming more familiar by now. Chan accidentally startles Y/n when he opens the door to her room, but her expression quickly settles to one of relief upon seeing him. Now that he’s looking closely, he can recognize the same, strained smile that he first saw at Chuseok.

She shuffles to the side of the bed and lifts the blankets so that Chan can sit beside her. He wraps an arm around her and pulls her closer.

“The boys all missed you,” he says in greeting. “Dinner wasn’t the same with just the eight of us.”

“Oh come on-”

“You’re part of us, now. I told you before. And-” Chan hesitates for a moment. “I heard that your parents visited.” Y/n stiffens for a second, before relaxing again.

“Ah, Jisungie, the little snitch,” she says, the fondness in her voice opposing her words. “Yes, they dropped by while you were away.”

“And?”

“Well, my eomoni was telling me that it was a sign that I should quit my job, get out of the industry, said I was stupid for getting between the sasaeng on you, the usual. But I got my abeoji to look over my files, when I asked he said that I can be released tomorrow!” she says excitedly, smiling so much that her eyes curve into crescents. “I get to go home!”

It’s clear that things with her parents didn’t go as well as Y/n is projecting, but Chan is too much of a coward to push more. Somehow that righteous anger that had filled him when he had talked to Jisung has been replaced with uncertainty. He doesn’t want to get into yet another disagreement with Y/n now that he knows what she truly thinks of him. Or rather, what she thinks that he thinks of her. He needs to focus on bringing them together instead of allowing them to drift further apart. He vows to bring this topic up another time, when things are better between them.

“That’s great!” he replies, but even as he says it, he can’t help the nervousness that starts to form in his stomach at the thought. He is happy that she’s been healing well and will definitely be reassured to have her back home, but until now, the hospital has served as a sort of protective bubble for Y/n, shielding her from the outside world. He has the irrational sense that keeping her here longer is the same as keeping her safe for longer.

—

“Bang Chan-nim?” The doctor that has been in charge of Y/n’s care steps into the room and glances at Y/n, who is busy packing away her things. All morning she’s been in a good mood, enthusiastically talking about what she plans to do once she’s back at the dorms. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course!” he replies. He tells himself that everything is alright, but can't stop himself from running his hands through his mess of hair, palms prickling with nerves.

The doctor leads Chan to his office and smiles at him gently, like he’s about to break some bad news and needs to make sure that Chan doesn’t also break. It makes things worse, Chan’s stomach starts to churn, his mind racing.

“This might be a difficult conversation, but you may already be aware.” The doctor starts slowly. “Y/n-nim works with idols, right? In the entertainment industry?”

“Yes,” Chan agrees, but he’s confused. Did someone leak the news of Y/n’s injuries? Is there a sasaeng that’s been visiting the hospital? He wants to pull out his phone and immediately call the company and force them to do more damage control, but the doctor continues.

“These days, there is a lot of pressure for young women, especially those who work with or follow idols, to fit into certain beauty standards.” Chan nods. He’s seen countless people destroy their bodies to try and lose more and more weight and knows how devastating it is, but he still doesn’t understand the point of this conversation.

“I’m concerned about Y/n-nim”-the doctor interrupts Chan’s thoughts-“When she came to the hospital, we were focused only on her injuries, but throughout her treatment, we have noticed that she is underweight. The testing that we’ve done tells us she has not been getting enough of what her body needs. Not getting enough food, not enough charge, and not enough rest. She's showing signs that she was becoming malnourished.

“It’s not uncommon to see those with soulmates, especially young women, take advantage of the bond, reducing charging time and saying that they will eat more instead. They often eat a normal amount so that it doesn’t concern anyone, but it’s not nearly enough to make up for the missing charge. Both of you have probably been more sensitive lately. It wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve also noticed yourself being irritable or having rapid mood changes these past few days."

Chan can't do anything but stare as the doctor pulls out a small packet of paper. His pulse roars in his ears and all he can feel is guilt, pooling in his stomach and creeping towards his extremities. He feels nauseous. This is his fault.

He thinks back to all the nights where he stayed in the studio, just a little bit longer to finish a track, sliding into bed to charge for only a few hours before they had to wake up. Of the extra meals, protein drinks, snacks he had consumed that he thought nothing of, too used to the varying diets of the rest of the members depending on their schedules and the ups and downs of bulking up or cutting calories. He’s used to the heaviness of his eyelids, the pounding headaches, and occasional dizziness that were the result of sleepless nights.

All these things he had taken in stride, forgetting that Y/n had been dealing with too. He had the luxury of being an idol, during schedules and tour, there was always breaks for food. But he had seen the way the managers and coordis had to run around, only eating when they had a couple minutes to spare.

He knows that he’s snapped at Y/n more than a few times, patience worn thin enough that at the end of the day he doesn’t have it in him for niceties. Of course, he had felt bad about it after the fact, but Y/n hadn’t seemed very phased by it and he had forgotten about it until the next time. It wouldn’t be the first time that stress made him more easily annoyed and ill-tempered, but now he realises why he seemed quicker to get caught up in his emotions.

The doctor continues talking, but Chan feels like he's underwater, the sound is muffled. This is his fault.

"Bang Chan-nim!" The doctor clasps one of Chan's hands in his and finally pulls his attention away from his self-loathing thoughts. "Are you okay? I know it can be a shock to find out, but don't feel bad. It's very common to be surprised, people are good at hiding things like this, even if you're close to them and I know that your bond is still relatively new. Luckily there are a lot of strategies we have to help your soulmate get more Charge, even if you both have busy schedules. Okay?"

"Okay," Chan replies weakly, he can barely focus on what’s being said, all he can think of is that he's the reason his soulmate is malnourished. And he didn't notice. That they think Y/n has an eating disorder, when it's him that has dictated the amount of charge that she gets. The doctor flips open the packet of papers and starts to highlight it.

"The most important thing right now is increasing Charging time. With Y/n-nim's injuries, her bedrest and all the time you two have spent charging have already been helping a lot. Take this recovery period as a time to build new habits and establish a routine that involves more skinship. I understand you two are busy, but I expect you try for at least 6 or 7 hours of sleep while charging, but more if possible. If you're both doing work on the computer, watching a show or movie, or eating, then sitting close enough to touch will help recharge without taking away from your regular activities. As you may already know, for the most efficient charging more skin-to-skin contact is recommended." He flips the front page back over and places the packet onto another, larger, stack of papers. "More details can be found here and this is the rest of Y/n-ssi's care instructions, prescriptions, and other information on soulmate bonds."

"Thank you so much," Chan says, automatically reaching out to accept all the papers.

"You're welcome. This must be very overwhelming, but Y/n-nim is healing quickly. Your bond is helping her recover much faster. We caught her malnutrition fairly early and expect that she'll be at normal energy levels within a few weeks. Don't feel guilty and try not to worry too much, Bang Chan-nim. Your bond is a good thing, not a bad one." The doctor smiles warmly, checking his watch and standing up. "Y/n-nim should be ready to be discharged now, let's go back to the room so that we don’t keep her waiting."

Chan follows the doctor back in a daze. Y/n is sitting on one of the chairs in her room, scrolling on her phone when they arrive. She brightens when they enter.

“Can we leave now?” she asks eagerly. Chan beelines to her side, reaching to hold her hand.

“Yes, everything has been sorted out now and Bang Chan-nim has all your care instructions. Please give us a call or come to visit if you have any questions or concerns at all,” the doctor says.

“Of course.”

“Looks like everything is ready to go. It was very nice to meet you both, although I wish it could have been under better circumstances. I hope that the rest of your recovery goes well, Y/n-nim, and please do not hesitate to contact us for anything.” With that, the doctor bows and leaves the room.

At the same moment, a nurse knocks on the doorframe as a greeting, pushing a wheelchair through the open door. Y/n’s smile fades when she sees it.

“Oh, no,” she says quickly. “I can walk, there’s no need for one of those.”

She turns to look at Chan for support, but he just shrugs helplessly. Secretly, he would feel better if she used it. After only a week in the hospital, she isn’t close to being fully recovered, even if she hides it well. He’s seen the slight grimaces when Y/n tries to shift positions and the way her face is lined with pain when she walks or has to stand straight for longer than a few minutes. If she pushes herself too much now, it’ll just extend the overall healing process.

“Really, I don’t need it,” she insists. “What was the point in all the walking practise? Besides, Chan-ssi and Yonghwan-ssi will be beside me, they won't let anything happen to me.”

The nurse looks sceptical, but agrees. Before they leave the room, Y/n twists her hand trying to break Chan’s grip.

“It’s too public,” she murmurs when he tightens his hold instead. “Just in case, I don’t want anyone to see anything that can be misinterpreted.”

Unable to think up an argument against that, Chan reluctantly lets go. Y/n hooks her arm with Yonghwan’s instead and they make their way out, Chan hovering behind them anxiously. They’re all wearing masks and hats and the car that’s going to pick them up is waiting at a private exit, but there’s a shared urgency in their movement. By now, the media has turned their attention to other stories, but with the radio silence from Stray Kids since the incident, fans have had nothing to do except theorise and wonder what’s happening behind the scenes.

He knows that it’s making him paranoid. He finds that he’s constantly looking over his shoulder when he’s in the hallways of the hospital. He’s never been more careful trying to cover up his appearance and avoid anybody who looks like they might recognise him.

They can’t risk the chance of a sighting of Y/n, especially now that her face was captured and shared on social media by fans before JYPE’s legal team was able to step in, and pictures of Chan with Y/n would make things much worse. There have already been rumours about how close Y/n is with all the members and who she is, using pictures from other schedules and events, somehow identifying her in blurred out clips from vlogs that have been posted, and even old footage from when she worked with Xdinary Heroes as evidence.

It scares Chan. Scares him so much that he can’t talk about it to anybody.

Although Y/n’s time in the hospital was fairly short, all things considered, Chan feels like he’s the one that has changed during this stay. Everything he has learned has made him feel like his chest has been opened up and his insides have been scooped out, leaving him hollowed out and unsteady.

When they finally get home safely, it feels like Chan can breathe easily for the first time in days.

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