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eureka-its-zico · 7 months

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Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 5

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 15.7+

A/N: This chapter got waaaaaay ahead of me. It got longer and longer without me realizing it. So, I apologize for the length in advance and if this isn't any good. In the anime, Nami has some wild outfits and I wanted to sort of bring that to this adaptation a little. Nothing too crazy, but still Nami anime-esque. Also, don’t shoot me but I had a little creative liberty with something in here it’s not canon so yeaaaaaa…please just indulge me for the story lol. Also, this has another Zoro POV, and from here on out things will be very angsty, because I am the proclaimed mayor of Angstville, courtesy of @chans-room and it is my duty to bring a little to the next few chapters. As always, thank you, guys, for all the love and support. For always being so kind and loving it as much as you do. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story🖤 Much Love, Jenn

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“Hey Nami?”

You hoped the widespread dread you were beginning to feel wasn’t that apparent in your tone as you spoke. You did one last check in the mirror before turning to her reply of, “Hmmm?”

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but-“

“But?”

God, she looked amused.

“Is this supposed to be so…short?”

There was no denying Nami liked clothes. Gold. Berry. Okay, so Nami likes shiny things and things that could also buy her the shiny things. She also seemed to have a flair for fashion. Unfortunately, that fashion was intended to be worn on someone with a bit more confidence than you had. For once, you’d wished you’d paid attention to other things outside of just the components of what made up a plant.

“You don’t like what I picked.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you stuttered out. “But this skirt is definitely…short.”

In one smooth move, Nami uncrossed her legs and got up from her seat. When she reached you, her hands grabbed your shoulders and gently turned you back to the mirror. Your reflections showed one woman questioning her whole existence because of a skirt with a corset style top, and one who looked confident in everything she did.

This time you were definitely not the latter.

“You look hot.”

“I look ridiculous and I’m afraid to bend over.”

Nami rolled her eyes so hard for a split second all that you saw was white. The hands that were on your shoulders now forcing you to turn from your reflected look of terror to her. Nami’s eyes shown bright with a determination to make you confident in walking out of her room and heading into the restaurant.

“Doc, do we need to do an affirmation together.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I need you to shake off whatever thoughts you’re having and realize that you are hot. Be confident in your own body.”

To send her words home, Nami clapped her hands against your shoulders and gave them one last shake before releasing you. You weren’t sure what to do or say after that so you just stood…staring back at her.

“Are you going to blink?”

“Sorry,” you hummed, shaking your head. “I was still trying to understand why you get a whole shirt and I get this.”

While her pink and tan outfit was tight and showed a good amount, her small eyelet cut out on her shirt barely showed, if any, cleavage. You felt like a bakery with the amount of buns you were selling.

There was that eye roll again.

“Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath. “You are impossible.”

Nami appeared to be tired of trying and turned on her heel to go over to a drawer. You weren’t sure what she was doing - or grabbing - but instead of watching her, you found your eyes drifting back to the mirror. You didn’t look bad just…different. You weren’t used to looking hot, as Nami put it but also so exposed. You reached over and grabbed your satchel and placed it over your shoulder, using it like a security blanket. All it did was make you feel more exposed than before, like a fraud wearing your face but dressed as someone more confident than you’d felt.

The sound of a drawer shutting hard brought you out of your thoughts and back into the present. It didn’t keep your hands from wringing the strap on your satchel.

Fuck it

“Hey, Nami do you think-“

“Zoro is going to like it? Yeah. I think he won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

You felt like the air had been stripped from your lungs. Your eyes no doubt were large and showing your surprise as you struggled to make words formulate on your tongue.

“Okay, that wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

“It wasn’t?” She teased.

“You know damn well I was going to ask something else.”

Why does she look so smug?

No. You were not frowning.

“Okay, then tell me: what were you going to ask?”

“I suddenly can no longer recall.”

Nami’s smile was joined seconds later with laughter that followed behind you as you tried to make your escape. The sound of very happy feet following closely behind at your heels. You were tempted to look back just to see if she was skipping, but her next teasing words sent you up the stairs two at a time.

“Sure you don’t.”

“You can’t prove it,” you shot back just as you cleared the stairs.

The sun was a welcome warmth on your skin after days of being covered in the mist of the fog. The sounds of happy banter between Usopp and Luffy sent you walking towards the main belly of the ship. You could see Usopp dressed in a pirate hat, a leather jacket sans the shirt, and matching pants. A pair of circle sunglasses adorned his face and you had to admit he looked pretty cool. Luffy just made you want to reach over and gently pinch his cheeks.

How is anyone supposed to take him seriously…

He was wearing overalls, for Christ sakes. Luffy looked absolutely adorable.

At the sound of your approach the guys turned towards you and the reaction you received made you want to throttle Nami. Luffy’s smile faltered ever slightly and Usopp wouldn’t even look you in the eye.

“Hey Doc, you look-ugh different.”

“Gee, thanks Usopp,” you grumbled.

“Are you guys done playing dress up so we can get a drink?”

Of course he was more interested in a drink than food. Of course, Zoro sounded like his usual grumpy self, as well. The problem? He didn’t look like his usual grumpy self.

While Zoro had been wearing t-shirts and jeans - things that looked comfy and regular the past few days - it was replaced with something dangerous. The hue of his kimono style shirt was a blue so deep it could’ve come from the ocean itself.

The most dangerous part about the shirt wasn’t just that it left a devilish window of skin on his chest available to torment your eyes. It was that same v-shaped window indicated the indent of a sculpted chest and collarbones, but the fabric at his arms hugged the muscles tight. The same strong arms you’d watch do repeated reps with weights and push-ups. Muscles that moved with ease under the skin as he skillfully practiced with his swords.

The dangerous part, after all of this, was that it mimicked a gi. The fabric folded over each other telling you that it would only take a slight tug from your hand to release the tucked material from his pants, from the safety of his sashed belt to leave his chest exposed to your hands and-

God, focus on something else.

But you couldn’t focus on anything else. How could you with the way he was looking at you?

Zoro’s eyes scanned over your body and every inch his gaze lingered caused your skin to flush. You fought the urge to fidget with the strap of your satchel but couldn’t stop your teeth from pulling in your bottom lip. Zoro’s eyes caught the movement and honed in on it. Your breath hitched in your throat and you could’ve sworn Zoro noticed that too.

You were supposed to dislike him. He was an asshole. A drunk. A pain in the ass with a smart mouth. God, it didn’t stop you from wanting him so bad your body ached. From the way he was watching you, you could’ve sworn maybe it felt the same for him. It was a nice thought until he opened his mouth.

“You’re going to wear that?”

And just like that, whatever witchcraft was in the air to make you think of doing anything other than annoying the shit out of him was gone.

“I think she looks good.”

Nami came to stand beside you and tore Zoro’s eyes from you to her.

“Yeah she does,” Usopp agreed from behind you, “but Naan would have a fit if she saw you dressed like this.”

A groan exhaled from your lips as you turned and started for the ramp. No, you were not stomping your feet. You just needed to get off this damn boat and away from all the idiot men aboard.

“Good thing Naan isn’t here, then,” you huffed.

You could practically feel Usopp shrug his shoulders, his hands up in question as he yelled after you, “I was just being honest. Naan would tell her it wasn’t practical.”

You weren’t sure who he said the last part too and you didn’t care. You were already stepping over the side of the Merry and heading towards the ramp when you felt a presence behind you. You expected it to be Nami and what you got was the shock of seeing Moss colored hair and the glint of three gold earrings.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m walking. What does it look like?”

But why must you do it next to me?

The question hung on the back of your tongue. You weren’t brave enough to ask it, because you could already hear the question of, “Why?”. Why did it matter if Zoro chose to walk beside, in front, or behind you? It shouldn’t matter what he chose to do, but it did matter because the way he looked at you just now was forever burned into your frontal lobe.

“Just this once you couldn’t just leave the swords on the ship?”

“Wherever I go the Wado Ichimonji goes.”

Of course it does

You expected him to do his usual of falling back to stand with Luffy. It’s what he usually did. Today was apparently shaping up to be an unusual one. Not only did he not stop walking with you, he continued to follow close behind you as you entered into the Baratie. His presence was hard to miss since when you stopped inside the foray of the restaurant Zoro was mere inches from your back.

“Must you stand so damn close to me?”

Each word was uttered through clenched teeth. You didn’t want to turn around and look at him. You didn’t need eyes in the back of your head to know if you did you would come fast first to the exposed skin of his chest.

“Why’d you bring your satchel in here? Are you worried someone is going to stub their toe?”

“Can you for two seconds-“

The words had come out as a growl. Your skin bristled with a heated irritation to rip into him, and tell him that he was being his infamous asshole self. Cool points went to you for not completely falling apart when you caught sight of him.

Zoro was too damn close looking how he looked with his chest exposed like that. His hands in their rightful place of one in his pocket and the other resting casually on his sword. The darkness of his eyes appeared so endless you were certain the moon could call them home. Maybe she already had and that’s why they sparked to life every time he looked at you.

Just like now.

One minute, Zoro’s face held its usual emotionless stare and the next you watched as his eyes lit up like fireworks in the night sky; celebrating an event you once again missed. A soft tug on the corner of his lip lifted just enough you could’ve called it a smirk.

When did he start looking at you like this?

That wasn’t even the biggest question. The biggest question was, when did you start to fall for it?

You felt your tongue involuntarily flick out to wet your suddenly dry lips, and to your horror Zoro’s eyes lazily watched the movement. He didn’t even try to hide it.

Oh god, you should’ve stayed on the boat.

You watched Nami come through the double doors entrance and the way her face lit up as her eyes roamed between the both of you instantly sent your eyes rolling. You were never going to hear the end of this. You let out a deep breath, your eyes scanning one last time in his direction, before you walked over to join Nami.

The Baratie was a thing of beauty. You’d never seen a building like it. While the outside was made of boards of broken down ships in the style of an actual fish, red siding and white ashwood for those fishy lips, the inside was a well thought out piece of beauty. The foray split open to a staircase of cherry wood that led down to a tiled floor of checkered black and white. It should’ve looked ridiculous, but only the center was made with these tiles. The rest was made with the continued us of the cherry wood that led up to an intricate painting on the ceiling. Sections of the fish's belly were carved out into long booths that looked like they could comfortably seat a party of eight.

Also, the smell of the food was making you almost willing to grovel to get a plate because there was no way-

“Welcome to Baratie. How may I help you?”

The fishman was polite enough with his semi-warm smile. It was the smile of a man forced to be approachable and nice all day, and not one that he meant.

“Hi. Where do we eat?”

Luffy’s smile on the other hand could make a rainbow weep.

“Do you have a reservation, sir?”

Yup. There was no way you guys could afford a place like this or apparently even have the chance to get in. You could feel your shoulders deflate as you walked over to the railing and leaned your arms against it. All the people dining - all the pirates - didn’t appear the least bit phased at your staring. Luffy pressed himself shoulder-to-shoulder with you with the two of you taking in the fancy scene before you.

To be fair, with food like what they were being served you wouldn’t care who watched you stuff your face either.

“Do we need one?”

Your forehead had already relocated itself to the cool wood of the rail. Your knees meeting the metal as you tried not to laugh at how cluelessly innocent Luffy was.

“We are very full today. I could put you on the waiting list. It’s three weeks out.”

“Maybe you want to check your book again.” Usopp walked forward, as confident as ever, and leaned himself against the hostess podium. You were expecting one of his smooth stories and instead wanted to throw yourself over the side of the railing as he finished. “You wouldn’t want to turn away the future King of the Pirates, would you?”

“And who is that supposed to be, sir?”

“Monkey D. Luffy. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

Based on the heavy sigh that came from the hostess you could tell his patience was wearing thin. So was his pleasantness.

“Well, in that case, I suppose we could find you a table. In three weeks.”

Usopp came to stand beside you with a smile as big as the ocean blue on his face. He was so proud, like he’d accomplished something major. Usopp had both the ability to create bullshit from thin air, and the ability to believe others would believe what he said without question. That’s why he was giving you the finger gun of celebration without noticing the look on the hostess face - or the mumbled words.

“Even out here, Doc I still got it.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

You noticed Nami move forward as Luffy conjoined himself to your other available side. You were now perfectly sandwiched between your Captain and your best friend. Both of them jumping in giddy excitement at the idea of sitting down at any minute and eating.

“What are you going to eat, Doc?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, yet. I didn’t think we’d get past the front door.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s always been a little cynical ever since we were kids.”

You balked at Usopp’s admission and if you could’ve scoffed any louder it would’ve turned into a cough.

“I am not cynical!”

“You are literally one of the most cynical people I’ve ever met.”

“That’s because I’m one of the few people you’ve ever met who still talks to you,” you grumbled.

“See? That cynicism is turning its ugly little head right now. It’s okay, Doc. I forgive you.”

Your mouth was open, a reply stationed on your tongue, when you heard something shocking behind you. The hostess was advising Nami to follow after him and when you glanced at her as she smiled at Zoro, you wondered what had been said. All it took was for Usopp to see him beckoning for them to follow for his ego to be boosted. His hands clapping happily against yours and Luffy’s shoulders as he giggled out, “See, I told you it would work.”

You peeled yourself from the railing and headed to follow the rest of the crew when, once again, you realized Zoro was waiting at the stairs edge. He wasn’t looking at you while he waited, however, for his eyes were glued to the many possibilities of would be threats in the room.

As soon as your feet touched down on the burgundy runner that ran the length of the stairs Zoro followed after. It wasn’t like the last time when you could feel him practically right on your heels. A switch had turned on in his head and Zoro was on high alert.

Luffy took the last step in a loud double-footed jump that finally brought the attention of most of the tables to your descent. While up top, looking down from the foray, the space in the booth’s had looked massive. It still was, but a startling realization that you could end up next to Zoro left you scrambling for some space.

“I have to pee.”

You’d just gotten to the tables edge and it felt like the only thing to say to save yourself. Everyone froze for all of a few seconds before they continued scooting into the booth.

“Okay, Doc. Go to the bathroom,” Nami stated.

She looked so relaxed that you felt incredibly jealous. You wish you could be that cool, calm, and collected all the time. Except, obviously, when Luffy was testing her patience.

You turned to ask the host where it could be located when the sound of Zoro’s swords thrashing around turned your head in his direction. For a split second, he looked a little flushed. His eyes scanning the room to see if anyone had watched him try and fail, very badly, at getting his swords to go inside the booth.

“Just take them off,” you huffed at him in passing.

“I’ve got this.”

Zoro’s eyes were still trained on the room, on every pair of eyes that dared to stare back, as he moved to the other side with Nami. Even then you watched him struggle to move his swords into the alcove between the pillar and the seat.

“If you still need to use the facilities Miss, they will be right this way.”

You gave the table with Luffy and your crew mates one last look before you followed the host closely to the safety behind a locked door.

Did locking the door seem a bit much when there were four available stalls inside? Yes. When you say you needed to hear that click to signify that you were completely alone to ease some of the growing tension in your shoulders, you meant it.

You rushed over to the sink and found your hands grabbing at the porcelain to help center yourself. Your head was dizzy from the mental whiplash that seemed to be your relationship with Zoro. One minute, you couldn’t stand him and he seemed equally annoyed with your very existence. The next, he was helping you with your sea sickness or inadvertently doing things around the ship to make your life a little easier. Now, he was looking at you differently. Zoro was acting strange, but honestly, when wasn’t he?

You glanced up at your reflection in the mirror. The words falling automatically from your lips.

“So are you.”

It wasn’t all him. It never was. Cause and effect. One couldn’t exist without the other, and maybe that was why you felt the way you did gazing at your reflection. You’d been trying to deny the gravitational pull that you were hopelessly fighting against ever since you met him. Before you’d ever seen his face your soul seemed to say, “Oh, there you are.”

It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t scientific and yet here you were locked inside of a bathroom all because the thought of sitting next to him made your heart feel like it would try and flee your chest.

You allowed yourself a couple more minutes to boost yourself back up. You could do this. It was just a guy. A guy who’d tucked a flower behind your ear and looked at you like you’d both strung up the stars and drank the last bottle of his rum.

A knock on the bathroom door brought you crashing back to reality. You quickly moved over to the door to release the latch. You’d barely had any time to move back before a woman came barreling through looking not too pleased with you locking the door. You mouthed a, “sorry,” in a way of apology before you made yourself scarce and walked back out to the table.

The minute you stepped back into the main dining room you got the sense you’d missed something. Your eyes searched over the tables. You found a pair of shoes that belonged to a pair of legs that was attached to a man lying lifelessly still on the floor.

Yup. You’d most definitely missed something.

The doctor in you immediately wanted to go to the man and make sure he wasn’t dead. You could practically feel your toes point in the direction for the rest of your body to follow. You just weren’t sure if it was something you should do in a room full of pirates. Plus, no one else seemed particularly worried that he wasn’t breathing so that should be good enough for you.

You were bouncing on your feet. You wanted to go check so badly. It almost happened to where you were going to say fuck it and just go check when you noticed your waiter at your table. He was tall, strong build set inside a stylish suit with stark white hair that appeared to reach his cheeks. He didn’t look happy to be there until his eyes spotted Nami and a smile as smooth as sin slid across his face.

He is handsome.

Nami looked unimpressed and a part of you was dying to know what the hell was happening. Luckily for you, you were about to find out.

As you approached the table Zoro’s eyes that had narrowed in on their waiter flicked to your oncoming approach and…did he look worried? The annoyance that had hardened his eyes noticeably softened, his back sitting up straighter in his seat while he continued to watch you come to the table. He had his arms crossed over his chest and you wanted to scream. Everything was flexing at you and it just felt like the universe was incredibly unfair.

“Sorry guys. Uhm have you guys noticed the ugh guy just laying there on the floor” you stated.

You were looking. Again.

You were standing next to the waiter who turned to greet you, his hands tucked in his pockets - fuckin great another one. The smile had wilted at the edges until his eyes fell on you and instantly he flashed a set of pretty teeth.

“They’re alright, madam. Just a couple of men who needed to be reminded of the rules of the house. My name is Sanji and I’ll be your waiter for this evening. Is there anything that I can get you to start? Appetizers? A drink, perhaps?”

Sanji was incredibly polite and his accent was as smooth as the rest of him. His eyes were impossibly blue. While Nami’s appeared almost gray at times, especially when she became upset and the color darkened like storm clouds, Sanji’s reminded you of azure aster’s in the spring.

“What is the strongest thing you have?”

You really could use that drink. You were in the middle of taking your satchel from across your body, eyes scoping to see where you would sit, when Sanji’s reply stopped you died in your tracks.

“That would be me, sweetheart.”

Did he just wink at you?

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“I think he just does that.” Nami cut in sending your eyes to travel to where she sat inside the booth. “It’s like an involuntary tick or something.”

“Oh. Explains a lot.”

You knew Sanji could tell you were both taking the piss out of him, but there was no denying he was a good sport about it.

“Not a tick. Just a show of appreciation for two lovely ladies, such as yourselves.”

“Okay. I’ve heard enough.”

A soft yelp of surprise came from you as you felt a soft, yet calloused hand grab at your wrist and, not so gently, pull you to their side. Zoro’s side. He had just magically removed himself from the booth and was pulling you to the now open section. The section that would put you next to Nami, but also him.

“Oy, women don’t like to be manhandled like that,” Sanji interjected.

“This one likes to be manhandled quite often. We don’t need your concern.”

Usopp’s water sprayed across the table and you were willing to bet that would’ve been your very own reaction if you didn’t have a mouthful of words.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You blanched back at him.

Zoro’s attention wasn’t directed at you. He and the waiter seemed to be in a battle of…something. Even as he sat back down, his legs spread broad and arms crossed back over his chest, Zoro oozed two simple words: “Try me.”

“See, that’s your problem right there. Women don’t like to be manhandled-“

“Sometimes we do,” Nami mumbled and you had to hide your smirk with your hand.

“They like to be treated like queen’s and with respect.”

“I thought a waiter’s job was to bring food to the table. I don’t see any food.”

The tension that rose around you was palpable. The two of them acted like they were caught in a verbal pissing match. Nervously, you glanced around the table to find Usopp playing with his napkin while peeking out to look at both the men. Luffy just looked genuinely lost.

Same.

You imagined there was a chance you would never get that drink, or any food, with how this evening was turning out. Finally, with an irritated roll of his tongue along his jaw Sanji turned to the rest of the table and tried to apply that same easy going smile as before.

“I’ll be right back with your order. Please let me know if there is anything else I can get you ladies.”

“They’re fine.”

With one last glance in Zoro’s direction Sanji left and headed back into what you assumed must be the kitchen. When you were sure he was gone you turned and smacked Zoro in his arm. He didn’t even look phased.

“What?”

“‘What?’” You mimicked back at him. That earned you a stare. “What in the hell was that?”

“Seems to me like somebody was jealous.”

Usopp teased and for once when Zoro’s eyes narrowed in on him, Usopp didn’t even flinch.

“I’m not jealous of a waiter.”

“Your actions say otherwise,” Nami reminded him.

In usual Zoro fashion he didn’t respond right away. His arms tightened a little more on his chest as he situated his back higher against the back of the booth. His jaw ticking like a time bomb refusing to respond to any of your prodding.

You wanted answers. You wanted him to explain what the hell that was all about, because your skin was still burning where his hand had latched on to you. It felt possessive; a man reaching out to claim something that was his.

The world around you might as well have gone by in a blur. You knew at some point the drinks and food had been deposited on the table. You could smell the delicious food sitting in front of you; the appetizers everyone was sharing around the table. The only thing you were able to focus on was tracing the place of where his fingers had wrapped around your wrist. Your mind felt like it was held prisoner, unable to let go and it wasn’t until you felt someone’s presence leaning closer to you in the booth that you finally broke free.

“Are you not going to eat?”

Nami’s question whispered against your neck and you had to fight to suppress the shiver that threatened to move down your spine. When had she gotten so close? Nami was looking at you like you’d given her reason to worry.

How long had you been sitting there staring off into space? Your eyes drifted to glance around the table - Luffy noticeably with his mouth full - and the drink sitting in front of you.

“Oh, thank god. Booze,” you mumbled, as you reached out to take the glass.

It took you less than a minute to bring the rim to your lips and down it in two very audible gulps. You tried not to make a face as the liquor hit the back of your throat. When you’d told Sanji you wanted something strong, he’d delivered.

“Well, at least you did something other than stare off into space.”

“You know, it might not be any of my business-“

“I don’t think a sentence started that way leads to anything good.”

Usopp didn’t seem the least bit deterred by Zoro’s words. He continued to trim a piece of the meat off his steak while he glanced around the table. While you didn’t know what it was Usopp was about to say or ask, you knew one thing was for sure. You needed more-

“Beer! Yes!”

God, help you, but you were giggling from excitement of finding more alcohol. Just as you reached out to grab it, Zoro’s voice came bombarding through your good time.

“That’s mine.”

You were sure Zoro was expecting you to set the bottle back down. To not uncap the top and stare him down as you bring the bottle up to your lips and take a long, slow pull. When you finished you set your now claimed beer down in front of you.

“It was yours.”

“I was wondering, Zoro, how you got that bruise on your face?”

Usopp motioned to the exact spot where the bruise in question used to be with the hand that held his steak knife. You cringed at the idea of him hurting himself, and could feel the words of caution bubbling up on your tongue.

“I don’t have a bruise.”

“You did, though,” Luffy offered up in between his next bit. “It was on your left cheek.”

“That was me.”

Why were you raising your hand? Quickly, you set it back down in your lap. The smile that spread across your lips, however, stayed.

“Doc, let’s not go around telling tall-tales, okay,” Usopp chuckled.

“Usopp, you are the king of tall-tales. Mine is very much real,” you beamed.

Nami looked between the two of you. Her eyes got brighter with each passing second as she realized you weren’t lying.

“Oh my god,” she chuckled. “It is true, isn’t it.”

“Yup.”

You popped the p at the end for dramatic effect. Your hand grabbing a hold of your new bottle of beer that you quickly took a sip of.

“You seem way too happy about this,” Zoro grumbled, his food now forgotten.

You couldn’t deny you were enjoying retelling this moment. The way everyone else acted, it’s as if you’d taken on a giant and everyone was surprised you’d survived. If that was the case, you would have to take a page out of Usopp’s book and embellish the story just a little.

“So, there I was racing back to get to Kaya’s to save you guys, when I heard a lot of strange grunting coming from the well.”

“The one you hate?”

“Yes, Usopp, that exact one. I was going to pass by when the sounds got even worse - someone was indeed stuck inside the well. When I went over to peer across the ledge a wild Moss-haired idiot appeared from the side.”

“I’m going to have to object to this retelling.”

You waved Zoro’s words off and fought the urge to shush him.

“No interruptions, please. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah the Moss-haired idiot who came over the side-“

“And instead of helping me this psycho decided to punch me and almost send me back down the well.”

“Psycho?” You balked.

“Yeah, a psycho. What kind of person sees someone struggling to get out of a well and, instead of helping them, tries to send them back down?”

“Why are you guys always like this,” Nami cut in.

“Like what?”

“You guys act like you can’t say one nice thing to each other or it’s going to be the end of the world.”

“I can too say something nice.”

You were not going to pout. Nami’s brows raised upwards like you’d told her there was no such thing as the West Blue and that fish could fly. You crossed your arms to try and ward her off, but there was no getting away from it.

“Can I just say, this food is so good? I don’t know if I can take another bite - but I’m gonna.”

You allowed them to comment about the food. The food you still hadn’t tried. While you’d sat in silence, stewing over thoughts filled with questions and not enough answers everyone had eaten.

“Oh, man you said it.”

“I’m not going to be able to eat for a week,” Nami agreed.

“Should we get dessert?”

“I have all I need right here,” Zoro stated, his thumb flicking the top off his beer before he took a drink.

You could feel a smart ass remark sitting in the back of your throat. You wanted to say it - to see that flash of irritation darken his eyes. You liked the idea of getting under his skin, because whether you wanted to admit it or not, Zoro was definitely under yours. Maybe it would’ve been simpler if you’d stayed at Syrup Village.

“Mmm! That reminds me. We should make a toast! Everyone grab your glasses. To the best crew sailing on the sea and to our victory. Yeah!”

Luffy grabbed his glass of milk and held it up. His happiness is enough to get most of you to join him in raising a glass. Hell, it was enough to get Usopp to clink his beer against Luffy’s milk.

Beside you, Zoro smiled and took a drink from his bottle and you never wanted to be an alcoholic beverage more in your life. You needed to get out of this booth. You seriously needed to go back to the ship and think about your life choices.

“No, I’m sorry. What victory exactly?”

Nami didn’t try to make her tone flat or hide the question off her face. She was genuinely perplexed, while the rest of you were eager for any reason just to drink.

“Our victory against the marines. It was our very first battle and we crushed them.”

“I don’t know how many naval battles you guys have been a part of-“

“Two dozen, at least.”

Why did Usopp’s response not surprise you in the slightest.

“But that was a disaster,” Nami continued without missing a beat. “We were unprepared, uncoordinated. By all rights, we should be at the bottom of the sea.”

“We’re not though. Luffy saved us.”

For a split second, this Nami you were seeing was different from the one you’d spent the last few days aboard the Merry. Sure, at times she could have a prickly exterior, but never like this. Usopp defending Luffy triggered something inside her - something rage-filled and dangerous. Something born from desperation.

“Are we really going to ignore the elephant in the room right now?”

Luffy was smiling like he usually did. Unable to follow wherever Nami was leading you all, but you could sense it. You weren’t sure what drove you to try and play peacekeeper. Why you spoke her name softly between you and tried to reach out to her, only for her to pull away like you’d stung her.

“You failed to mention that your grandfather was a marine. And not just any marine, but a Vice-Admiral, at that! I don’t know about you three, but I didn’t sign up for that.”

Zoro had been listening to her through closed eyes. You weren’t sure if he was truly trying to listen or dismiss what she had to say, but it surprised you when he stepped in. His first instinct was to stick up for Luffy, something you hadn’t been expecting.

“You raided a marine base. Of course that’ll make you a target.”

“I’m sorry what?”

If you had been drinking or eating, you would’ve choked. Neither of them seemed to pay you any mind.

“If I stole the map, no one would’ve known I was there, as opposed to wrecking a base commander’s office.”

Yes, you could vaguely recall Luffy’s speech to Kaya about all the marvelous things they’d done in the few days they’d known each other. Did you necessarily believe him at the time? Not really. But now…

Before a fresh wave of thoughts could wash up in your brain, Sanji magically appeared placing the bill on the table.

“Your bill, sir.”

Luffy looked around at all of you, a soft smile playing at his lips, as he held up his finger for all of you to wait. He quickly signed the receipt and handed it back.

“Thank you, my good man.”

Sanji took the bill back, his eyebrow quirked up as he read whatever Luffy had signed at the bottom. Whatever it was sent a grin wider than the East Blue to brighten up his face.

“No, sir. Thank you.”

Luffy waited for Sanji to leave the table before he looked back at you all. For once, he wasn’t all smiles. All that care-free energy was contained and replaced with a seriousness you weren’t sure you liked.

“Look, I’m not saying it’s good that the Marines are on our tail, but we showed them that they can’t just roll over us. This crew, our crew, can handle anything.”

It would’ve been a riveting Captain's speech if it wasn’t interrupted the second he finished speaking.

“Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?”

The voice that rang across the Baratie was thick with age. You didn’t have to look far to know it belonged to the older gentleman who stood at the entrance to what you could only assume was the kitchen. His peg leg made clunking noises off the tile as he made his way towards the table.

How did he know where to go? Luffy was just leaning out the side of the booth waving ever so-slightly with his smile back on his face. “Here.”

“You seem to be confused about the rules of the house, but Baratie doesn’t offer credit. You eat, you pay.”

How much is the food?

You only had thirty-three Berry to your name. You started to reach inside your bag when Luffy waved you to stop. The older Chef looked from you and back to Luffy who placed his hands together like he was about to pray.

“I think you’re confused. The meal has already been paid for. I just haven’t given you the money yet.”

“Yeah, and how’s that?”

“You can add it to my treasure tab.”

Your forehead hit the edge of the table so fast you weren’t even sure it actually hurt.

“And what, pray tell, is that?”

“I may not look like a big deal yet, but you’re talking to the future King of the Pirates. And as soon as I find the One Piece, I’m going to come back, pay this bill in full, and with interest.”

At least the Chef had the decency to chuckle before he lurched down and grabbed Luffy by the front of his overalls.

“I got a better idea.”

You watched as he placed Luffy in front of him with a controlling hand held on to his shoulder. A way to keep him from running, if he tried, but you knew Luffy would go without a fight. You glanced around the table to find no one making a move to follow.

“You guys are seriously just going to sit here,” you huffed.

Nami leaned her head back against the booth. Her eyes looking up at the ceiling and refusing to look anywhere else.

“I need a drink.”

“Yeah,” Zoro chuckled as he grabbed a hold of what was left of his beer. “Now you’re talking.”

You’d waited until they all removed themselves from the booth before you slipped away. You were sure the three of them wouldn’t miss your presence as you made your way towards the kitchen. It wasn’t until you’d passed the last pillar before the kitchen that you felt the familiar touch of calloused fingers wrap themselves lazily around your wrist.

The tug you felt this time was softer - a plea for your attention instead of forcing it. You weren’t sure what you expected when you turned around. If Zoro would be his usual unreadable smoothness like stone or if the corner of his eyes would be tinged with annoyance. There were only a few possibilities that you’d grown accustomed to and all of them were nothing of what you got.

When you turned to meet him, Zoro didn’t look like he usually did. The hardness that kept him unreadable was replaced with something softer. His lips parted as he searched your face with your wrist still held loosely in his hand.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to help, Luffy.”

“Luffy, can handle himself.”

“Zoro-“

You weren’t sure why your tone had come off saying his name as breathy as it did. As if you were both tucked inside the alcove of a church hiding to keep from being caught doing something forbidden. You also couldn’t explain why when he dropped your wrist from his hand you’d chosen to place it on his chest. It wasn’t until you’d done that you realized just how close you both were.

“I’m not going to leave him to do dishes by himself until he tells me too.”

“How do you know he’s doing dishes?”

“Why the hell else would he take him into the kitchen?”

“Good point.”

You removed your hand from his chest and, for a split second, you thought you saw a glint of loss.

“You guys head to the bar and I’ll meet you there shortly.”

Zoro made no move to leave. He stood there looking every bit as intimidating as a man with three swords could be, while also looking seemingly lost. He appeared to be thinking something over - a debate in his mind about whether or not he should even say whatever was weighing heavily there.

You almost told him to just spit it out, but he looked like he would rather chew on razor blades than say whatever it was. When Zoro finally got it off his chest it sounded like he’d choked.

“What about the waiter?”

Confusion clouded your features as you replied, “What about him? Do you need me to find him for you or-“

Zoro waved you off. He looked more awkward now than you’d ever seen him. All the cool confidence that he’d oozed seemingly gone in the blink of an eye, and replaced with a hand behind his neck and eyes that refused to meet yours.

“No. I mean be careful of the waiter?”

“I’m confused.” That was an understatement. “Is there something I’m missing about this waiter?”

“No - it's - never mind. I’ll just see you when you finish doing whatever it is you plan to do.”

“Okay.”

“What are you planning to do?”

Your head was metaphorically and literally spinning from the conversation. One second, Zoro looked ready to follow after Usopp and Nami who were no doubt already at a table with drink in hand. The next, he seemed uncharacteristically bashful.

You didn’t want to smile. What if it ruined the moment?

“I plan on helping Luffy by helping the Chef.”

“I’m going to pretend that makes sense.”

When you gave him a thumbs up in response you wished lightning would’ve come down and burnt you to a crisp. What made it worse? From the smile that was beginning to work its way at the corners of Zoro’s lips, you could practically hear what he was going to say.

“You really are masterful with replies.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go in there now,” you stated. Your body slowly backed away from him and the heart stopping smile that was only growing wider.

When did he start smiling at you like that?

You were almost to the swinging double doors when someone came rushing through and collided immediately with your back. The sound of dishes crashing sent your eyes wide and finally tore you away from the swordsman in front of you.

“Fuck.”

“Oi, what’s going on out here?”

Double fuck.

You stooped down to help the waiter pick up the pieces of plates that had shattered on the ground and the food right along with it.

“What the bloody hell is going on ‘ere?”

Looking up from your crouched position on the floor, you were greeted by the same Chef who had pulled Luffy into the back. Without thinking you jolted to stand upright to face him with your hands struggling to keep the pieces of broken plate from dropping.

“I came to help my Captain in your kitchen.”

As the words left your mouth, so too did a couple pieces of a plate.

“No.”

It was abrupt. It was harsh and it was final. He didn’t even give you a chance to try and change his mind. The hard sound of his peg leg turning back into the kitchen cutting off whatever your next sentence might have been.

“Hey! I can help!”

You pushed through the double doors and narrowly missed a cook passing by with a flaming piece of meat sautéing in the pan. You pulled a face and quickly moved away. This time you were watching closely where you were going and playing extra close attention to the fast pace movements happening around you.

For someone so large, the Chef made his way with ease around the kitchen. You weren’t sure if he was just light on his feet or if everyone in the kitchen just learned to work around him.

“No.” He sounded like he’d smoked two packs of smokes a day and finished it off by gargling with a cigar. “What you can do is get out of my kitchen before you make more of a mess.”

“Hey Doc!” Luffy waved from his place in the corner. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to help you.”

And to show how helpful you were, you placed the broken pieces of plate down on the table. The old man regarded him momentarily before looking back at you.

“You’re with him?”

“Yeah I am.”

The old man turned back to Luffy, a large thumb pointed back to you as he spoke, “She broke a couple plates outside. That’s also added to your tab.”

“Oh, okay wait!” You came around the corner of a cutting station, arms still out in front of you like you were warding off a bear. “That’s why I'm here. I have a service I think would benefit you.”

“And what, pray tell, would that be?”

You put on your brightest smile and flared your arms out in front of you like you were a prize to behold.

“I’m a doctor.”

You expected a different reaction. A completely different reaction to him looking like he was about to make you fish food.

“Get out of my kitchen.”

“Did you hear me-“

“I heard you just fine, girl. What I need is for you to get out of my kitchen.”

The way he called you girl reminded you of Naan. It was the same tone that was used to tell you that you were in the way. You weren’t helping. You were just being a pain in the ass. There were more than a handful of times that you’d told Naan you could help; you knew enough to assist with minor surgeries. To help with childbirth when the women came in hollering and screaming like their body was being broken and molded anew.

You’d spent your whole life learning how to forage and create and heal. You knew you could help - that you could ease this man’s pain.

“No.”

When crystal blue eyes honed in on your position you refused to bend. You stared back at him and for the first time ever you squared your own shoulders in defiance.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Your stump - I bet it hurts you something awful. The problem with prosthetics is that they still rub the skin - can bruise. What if I tell you that I can make you a salve that can alleviate that for you?”

He’d placed his hands on his hips somehow making him appear broader. He was trying to intimidate you, but he had nothing on a little old lady and her cane.

“She is really the best doctor in all of the East Blue. If your leg really does hurt you, why not let Doc try and see if it helps?”

He looked from Luffy and back to you - his eyes showing how undecided he was. You thought you were going to have to try again when he finally replied, “You got one hour before the second dinner. If it isn’t as good as you say I’m doubling what he owes me.”

The joy you felt at winning something was quickly taken from you as you resisted the urge to chase after him.

“Wait what?!”

The old man wasn’t going to answer you. He was too busy walking away, off to see something about food. You didn’t even get a chance to ask him for a pot or if he had any mortars in his kitchen. You glanced over at Luffy who was giving you two thumbs up and smiling his usual smile.

At least one of you believed in you.

You were about to remind him that you were left with nothing to use when the waiter from earlier, Zoro’s best friend, magically appeared. His jacket was now missing and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to expose his forearms.

“I’m assuming you’re in need of some assistance.”

A breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding released from you in a soft laugh of gratitude.

“Yes, please! I need a pot and mortar and pestle. If you can direct me where to get them-“

“No, I can get them for you. I live to serve.”

Sanji spared you one last parting smile before he moved swiftly around the kitchen collecting what you’d asked. Everything else you either already had in your satchel or you could easily run back to the ship to get. Somewhere in the back of your mind, when Sanji came back to hand you your requested items and winked, you swore you could hear Zoro’s teeth grinding in irritation.

Zeff, as you later learned from Sanji, had given you all of one hour to make your salve. You’d finished in forty minutes.

The kitchen had been cleared out and empty, which you learned was the usual between the break up in the first, second, and third dinner. It also meant it gave you ample time to look over Zeff’s leg. Not that the old man looked the least bit thrilled about it.

His rough exterior was making it hard for you not to be a little jumpy. Add in the extra audience of both Luffy and Sanji who seemed to be fascinated just from you removing the old man’s boot a little harder to work.

The minute you’d removed the wooden prosthetic from his knee you immediately could see the bruising. The hard rashes that bleed across the skin leaving angry marks that almost threatened to make the skin weep. You couldn’t keep the air from hissing between your teeth as you took in a sharp breath.

You could hear Zeff too. The way he tried to swallow back down a groan that threatened to become something close to a cry of pain. Gently, you set it aside and started getting to work. Your hands pull out clean linen and wrap from your satchel and the green chiterra you’d just harvested.

You got up from where you sat and poured warm water into a bowl Luffy just cleaned. Immediately, you placed a clean cloth inside until it was completely soaked and rung it out before you gently placed it on his stump. You could hear the whistle of pain flash between his teeth, but you didn’t look to see if he was glaring at you still. You continued to smash up the chiterra until it made a paste.

Once you knew everything was ready, you gently began to clean the skin; exposing the places where the rash had torn skin. In those areas you placed the chiterra and in the areas where no broken skin showed you deposited the salve. The minty scent enveloped the space and as you began to wrap up Zeff’s leg, you dared to peek at him.

“What is that smell? Mint?”

“Aloe Vera. It helps with burns and irritations on the skin. I figured it would help soothe your skin. Give you some relief.”

“Hmmm.”

It was a sound you’d grown up with. Naan made the same kind when she was unsure of what to say. When she wasn’t ready to admit you were right or that you’d proven yourself capable.

“There.” You huffed as you put the prosthetic back on. “Make sure you wash it at least once a day. The salve can be put on two to three times daily. Don’t be scared to be generous with it and-“ you pulled the piece of paper you’d written the measurements and ingredients on. Your fingers waving it back and forth in front of him just to make sure you had his attention. “I’ll give you the recipe if you knock off more than half of what Luffy owes you. Deal?”

“You really think your fancy medicine is worth more than my food?”

“Is it worth more than your comfort? You tell me: how does your leg feel now?”

You tried to hide your growing smile as you could see the battle Zeff was warring on in his head. While he was old and stubborn, you knew relief from pain of any kind was usually the path most took.

With a heavy sigh, Zeff put his hand out for the paper and you knew you had him. This time you did allow a cheeky smile to celebrate.

“Your Naan teach you to be a pain in the ass like this too?”

“Nope. That I’ve learned all on my own.”

“Sounds about right.”

You leaned back on the stool and watched as Zeff began to get up. The caution his body had grown accustomed too every time he moved was noticeable in his slow movements.

“I told you she was the best in all of the East Blue.”

Luffy looked so proud. You weren’t sure what you expected, but the amount of pride he radiated was something new to you. Sure, you’d had Naan tell you that you did good but it wasn’t the same. There was something about the way Luffy looked at people - really looked - to the point for the first time you felt seen.

Luffy didn’t just say he thought you were the best because he was trying to talk you up. He believed in you and what you could do.

“Yeah, that may be so, but you still owe me some clean dishes.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

He smacked the top of the chair he’d been sitting in as he got up. He didn’t argue or call for a rest. Luffy simply headed back towards the sink to finish on the load of dishes he’d left as they’d watched you work. The idea of him still slaving away in the space while you were all out there enjoying yourselves didn’t feel right.

“You should be able to go out with the rest of us and have a drink.”

“I’ll be alright here. You go on ahead and meet the rest of the crew. I’ll be with you guys soon enough.”

How soon? It didn’t feel right to leave him there. Even worse to bring over dishes you’d gotten dirty for him to wash in the end.

“At least let me wash these, Luffy.”

He’d opened his mouth to tell - what? To tell you to go again, most likely but you never actually heard him say it. Right when he was about to speak, Sanji was just there. His hands gently taking the dishes out of yours and walking over to place them beside the sink.

“How about I do these dishes for you.”

“Why would you do that?”

Sanji glanced away from you for a moment. His eyes focusing in on a memory, maybe. Whatever it was memory or thought, his eyes went into a thousand yard stare. One that was untouchable as the clouds. Finally, he turned to look at you and a touch of a smile was back.

“Zeff is cantankerous old shit bag but-“

“But he’s your cantankerous old shit bag. I get it.”

And you did. Naan and Zeff had a lot in common, specifically in their not-so-great parenting that wasn’t parenting skills. Even more so in the way they tried to make it seem like any help you tried to give wasn’t going to be good enough. You’d just come to realize that, while at first you’d hated Naan for always telling you it just wasn’t good enough, whatever you did, you realized as you got older it was because she knew you could do better. Would you have preferred a hug? A lighter lesson sharing a cup of hot chocolate? Hell yeah you would’ve but…this was okay too.

The closed smile Sanji wore cracked a little as you finished his sentence. A smile of realizing someone else understood seemed to make the tension ease from his shoulders just a bit.

“I’ll wash these up for you and let’s say, in return, you have a drink with me later.”

He’d remove the dish towel from his shoulders; his right hand tightened inside the fabric as he used it to prop himself up just a little. He was leaning against the counter with that soft, inviting smile still barely showing any teeth. You realized as you considered his offer you liked it better when he was smiling just a little too wide; all the flirting making him happier than he seemed now.

Fuck you wondered what Zoro would do if he knew what you were about to say? What did it matter anyways? It wasn’t like you belonged to each other or had feelings or…you know…whatever.

It was your turn to take your head out of the clouds and look back over at Sanji. He wasn’t being pushy. You were sure if you told him no he would be a gentleman about it. So, taking a deep breath you finally gave him your response.

“A drink would be good.”

What in the absolute hell’s were you doing?

In a matter of a millisecond, Sanji brightened up and it made your chastising fall short. It couldn’t be that big of a deal if it made him this happy, it could it?

“Great. I’ll finish up here and find you at the bar.”

“Alright. I guess I’ll see you in a bit then.”

You replaced your satchel over your shoulder and started to make your way towards the back door. You weren’t even sure where the bar was. Wherever it was you knew a certain Moss-haired swordsman would be there with the others.

“Good. It’s a date.”

You whirled around so fast the vertigo almost threatened to topple you over.

“Ugh, it is not a date.”

“Sounds like a date to me,” Sanji teased, his hand flipping the dish towel back over his shoulder.

He looked so smug. Why were all the men you were running into either smug, attractive, and a pain in the ass? Well, besides Luffy, that is. He was becoming your sunshine son whether he agreed or not.

“It sounds like a drink,” you responded.

Your feet were still carrying you to the back door, but you honestly couldn’t get there fast enough.

“A drink under the stars and hushed conversation.”

“To have a hushed conversation you have to be like this close,” using your hands you indicate the amount of space necessary to make that even a remote possibility, “and it’s in a crowded place, which means yelling.”

“You’re adorable you know when you’re all flushed like that.”

“Excuse me while I go throw myself overboard.”

“Doc! Make sure Nami or Usopp get you out!” Luffy called after you. “I won’t be able to go in.”

You weren’t going to tell him it was a figure of speech. He seemed so genuinely concerned that you would just throw yourself off that you kind of didn’t want to ruin the moment. One last glance at Sanji before you left out the back door, and you debated whether you were joking or not.

You weren’t exactly sure where you were heading, you just knew that there was the sound of music. Music usually meant very few things. Either someone was having a dinner party with music playing in the background, highly unlikely, or you were headed directly for the bar.

The bar where your crew mates were at. The bar that Zoro was at and the same bar Sanji would come looking for you at later. God, how soon was later? The thought made each new step you took sound more pronounced, louder than the last as you practically dragged yourself into the fish’s mouth.

It wasn’t an incredibly large space. It was pretty crowded already, and if it wasn’t for its size you would’ve worried you wouldn’t have been able to find them. Luckily for you, Usopp spotted you first and waved you over to the table they’d claimed right at the edge of the fish’s lip.

While Nami and Zoro were nursing a beer and whiskey, respectfully, Usopp apparently found a punch bowl. By the looks of said punch bowl and the glossy look hollowing out Usopp’s eyes, you knew you were going to need one just as big.

“Where did you get that fish bowl and do they have more?” You asked, removing your satchel and sitting down next to Nami.

“Nice of you to finally join us.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to be missed.”

You clutched your hands dramatically to your chest causing Nami to bump into you playfully in response.

“In all seriousness though, I’m going to need one of those fish bowls. ASAP.”

“I don’t know if you want one, Doc,” Usopp replied before taking another long pull from his straw. “It tastes just like candy. I don’t even think there is any liquor in this.”

“Pace yourself.” Zoro warned. “Last time I said that I ended up face down underneath a table.”

You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the small table, as you cupped your chin in your hands. You tried for cute and tried to smile that ended up squished between cheeks and hands.

“What were you doing under the table?”

“Napping,” he replied curtly.

“No one chooses to nap under a table in a bar.”

“I’ve napped in the crow’s nest on the Merry a few times.”

Yup. There was definitely liquor in that fishbowl.

“By the way, if you see Sanji let me know. I inadvertently may have slightly agreed to have a drink with him.”

“Nami’s boyfriend?”

“Nami’s what?”

“The waiter?!”

“He is not my boyfriend,” Nami protested a finger up to signify to Usopp to make a point, “and what is happening?”

“He asked after I fixed up Zeff’s - the big angry Chef - leg. I made a little salve for him to help take the pain away when he wore the prosthetic.”

“And somehow that led to you being asked for a drink?”

“I guess?” You shrugged.

“Man, I gotta try that,” Usopp mumbled as he took another long sip through his straws.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Your eyes panned over to Zoro. His arms painfully tight across his chest and his jaw wasn’t faring any better. It looked painful. You wanted to remind him it was possible to get lockjaw just from grinding your teeth into dust.

“Well, I’m going to go get me a fishbowl.”

You remove yourself from your newly claimed spot and walk over towards the bar. The bartender himself seemed easy enough, happy to take your money, and even happier to take a tip as he handed over your drink. It was so heavy that you thought it would take you half a decade just to get it back to the table without spilling it. So, the best way to combat spillage was by starting to drink some down.

Usopp was right. They did taste exactly like candy.

When you arrived back at the table, it was noticeably more quiet. Nami’s eyes focused on her now empty glass that she swirled around in her hand. Zoro wasn’t looking at you, as per usual, as if you’d done something wrong and Usopp was busy finishing off his drink. You weren’t sure how to inject yourself back into a conversation that had grown stagnant. You weren’t born with the ease of conversation; not like Nami who always seemed to know what to do. When to smile and the right words to make someone open up. You’d only take a couple of sips of your drink when Zoro’s gruff voice sliced into the silence.

“What are you holding onto that is so heavy?”

He took a drink from his own glass as he waited for Nami to speak. To lift her head up or show any signs that she’d heard him.

“You guys seriously don’t think what Luffy did was messed up?”

You weren’t following. You were too busy taking another drink, eyes darting between the two of them. You felt silly. Obviously, whatever was bothering Nami wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t something she was holding close to ruin you all later, but whatever it was that weighed on her she felt Luffy had done something detrimental. Almost.

Zoro regarded her evenly before he set his glass back down on his thigh. His gaze looked away from her as he replied, “Yeah. He should’ve told us. But if you haven’t noticed we’ve been making enemies everywhere we go. Psycho clowns, killer butlers: what are the Marines going to do?”

“You don’t understand. I can’t get caught not when I’m so close-“

Nami looked ready to break. The tears of panic that edged at the corners of her eyes made all the earlier playfulness disappear. The sharpness of words you threatened to say to defend Luffy losing their edge as you watched her stare into her glass like it would be able to give her all the answers. To tell her it would all be okay.

Zoro looked between you and Usopp, who was doing his best to not be a part of this particular conversation. His lips wrapped around the straws buried deep in his drink and refused to let go.

Men.

You were about to reach out to her, to ask her if she was okay, really okay, not just the kind you pretend to be through words when a mask of a smile was back on her face. She set down her glass and gave a quick glance around the table before clapping her hands down on her bare legs and lifting up out of her seat.

“Who wants a drink? It’s on me.”

“That’s my favorite kind.”

“Of course it is.”

You ignored Zoro’s stare as Nami removed herself from the booth - from all of you. She was more than halfway to the bar when you reached over and smacked Zoro’s shoulder. He looked surprised for all of a second before he looked from his shoulder and back to you.

“‘That’s my favorite kind.’” You mimicked. “God, who says that?”

“Someone who likes free drinks?” Usopp offered up.

“You are both -“

“Impossible. We know.”

Shaking your head, you shimmied out of the booth and started making your way through the groups of people. You could barely see Nami up ahead with an older gentleman speaking to her. A spindle of curiosity began to weave its way inside your belly and filled your head with questions. He didn’t seem to be flirting with her or trying. No, they seemed to be discussing business.

“Nami.”

You spoke her name lightly the way you would an animal that was skittish. The hand you’d reached out to tap her shoulder falling short as she turned halfway to face you.

“Hey, Doc, what are you doing?”

“I came to check on you.”

Nami pulled a face, her shoulders shrugging just enough to brush off your words.

“I promise you, I’m just fine. I don’t need a check-up or anything like that.”

The bartender chose at that moment to set down a bottle of rum and four shot glasses, which Nami grabbed immediately. She thanked him with a smile and turned to head back to the table forcing you to practically run after her.

“Nami- Nami, wait!”

“What do you want?!”

The anger of her words forced you to take a step back. Your hands raised just to let her know you meant her no harm.

“Do you remember when I told you that you had a friend in Syrup village?”

“What about it?”

“While I didn’t stay in the village, I’m still your friend and while I may not be able to protect you like Zoro, or be full of sunshine and stretchy like Luffy, or hell, be as sharp as Usopp with a slingshot I’m still here for you. Does that make sense?”

“I think?”

“I Just- okay look I’m not good at this either. My only friend I had was Usopp and I’m not sure how to say this but if you need to talk or if anything is bothering you, you can tell me. I’m not going to judge you or you know…”

It all felt like it was going good in your head and then you breathed, started talking, and for some reason panicked. Bless Nami for finding it all vaguely amusing, from what you could tell, because the smile that graced her lips was the one you’d come to expect. Bright and full of the youth sometimes you feel like she’d missed.

“Why do you get so awkward at the end of long speeches?”

Her words were light and airy; full of the laughter that flowed through each one. You allowed her go wrap her arm around your shoulders as you both moved back to the table. Your own laughter threatening to burst at any minute.

“I don’t get awkward.”

You could hear the eye roll she gave as you both began to release one another. You wouldn’t fit in the booth this way if you didn’t.

“Every time. Without fail. You start off so strong.”

“I just get nervous that I’m not making any sense, especially when you’re saying things that matter.”

“What you said back there matters?”

She’d placed the rum and glasses down on the table. Usopp’s fishbowl long since emptied and Zoro was moving towards the bottle at Lightning speed, as if he couldn’t wait to meet oblivion. Before Nami disappeared back into the booth you gently grabbed her hand to stop her making sure she faced you completely before you spoke low enough for only her to hear.

“It matters because you matter to me, Nami. All jokes aside, just don’t forget I’m here for you.”

Her eyes pricked with the edge of tears but she quickly nodded and turned away from you. The only proof you’d gotten she heard you was the soft squeeze of her hand in yours just before she let you go.

“God, I don’t know which one of them is worse. Can that even be classified as dancing?”

Nami’s soft laughter filtered over to him and Zoro couldn’t help but respond with a smile. At some point, you’d dived head first into too many of the giant fishbowls, deciding not to heed his warning, and come out the other side completely and utterly shit faced. So, when Usopp asked you to join him out on the dance floor, you didn't hesitate. For the last hour, Zoro wished there was a camera around just to hold this moment hostage from time.

He watched as you did moves he was willing to bet, if you were sober, would flush your cheeks in the rosy hue he’d found himself becoming obsessed with ever since he’d placed that snowdrop behind your ear. Another moment that time had taken he’d hoped to have burned into his memory. The way you’d looked up at him shifted something inside him, and Zoro wasn’t sure if he could ever get it back, or if he even cared it was gone.

You were in the middle of your next move - one arm behind your head while the other was close to your side. Your shoulder rotating in strange circles as your body bounced off beat. Usopp had gone back to doing a shuffle beside you that broke you out of your dance and into his.

Zoro could feel a smile threatening to burst its way on to his lips. Quickly, he brought his beer up and took a long pull from the glass.

“You’re different with her.” Every word was punctuated. Slow. As if Nami was afraid saying it too fast would spook him.

He took the glass from his lips and set it back on his thigh. His hand still wrapped around the cool mug as he finally regarded Nami.

“I’m not different with anybody.”

“Well, that’s not true. You’re different with Luffy; with us. I’m betting you don’t look at us the way you look at her, though.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It’s nothing.

God, he wanted it to be true. Even now, however, he could feel his neck straining to stay facing Nami’s direction. He wanted to look back and see what you were doing. To make sure you were safe.

And that waiter hadn’t magically appeared.

Nami must have known he was lying. She may have been a thief, but Zoro had come to realize her bullshit calling meter was the best he’d ever seen. She regarded him coolly with her brows raised in mock shock.

“I have eyes, Zoro. Unless you’re looking at me the same way when I’m not looking - it’s different.”

If he played it cool, kept his face free of emotion, and didn’t react he could still call her a liar. It was a solid plan that would’ve worked if his jaw hadn’t ticked in annoyance. Zoro wasn’t annoyed with Nami. He was annoyed at himself for being caught wanting something -someone - besides his goal.

He looked down into the safety of the amber liquid in his glass. Unsure of what - how - to begin to deny you hadn’t snuck in and taken a piece of him and called it yours. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

“Look,” Nami sighed. “I know you’ve got your own thing going on. Who doesn’t.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming,” he grumbled.

“But it’s okay to still want other things too.”

Zoro allowed himself to look up from the safety of the glass and willed himself to appear emotionless as he considered her. His mind was still mulling over her words and what Nami could possibly be trying to get at.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like her.”

No.

In a flash, Zoro could see how simple it would be to have you. His imagination ran in a million directions, in a trillion scenarios of a life that held a path for you to walk with him. He almost gave in and allowed the warmth of the idea of touching you, knowing you, to consume him until a clash of swords resonated in his mind.

As fast as it was created, it was destroyed. He found himself back in the woods standing in front of Kuina, so full of fire and life. The determination lit a fire in her eyes until he could’ve sworn he’d be consumed.

“Until one of us is the greatest swordsman who ever lived.”

It was his goal then just like she had been his goal - and it had remained his goal even now. Zoro couldn’t allow himself to lose sight of that. It was his dream to be the world’s greatest swordsman, but it had also been hers.

Kuina.

Zoro could still see her there waiting for him. Dead and dried leaves crunching under her feet as she waited for him to meet her in the clearing, her eyes brimming with challenge.

Zoro could almost feel his muscles taut and ready to go to her. His thumb playing at the hilt of his sword, to pull it out in one smooth motion and come forward those last few feet in a class of steel. He could feel his feet moving and the sound of the leaves crunching under his weight. He was almost to her when the sound of laughter floating through the breeze like a wind chime forced him to stop. He didn’t know who or what it was, or why his first thought was you, but when he turned to glance behind him he felt his heart stop.

He was suddenly standing back in the lavender fields at Irkhaven. Zoro’s eyes scanned around until you were there, like Kuina, standing just out of reach. You were surrounded by a sea of purple and sunlight that only seemed to brighten as you smiled in his direction. It was the smile that warmed him down to his bones and made his chest ache for once with something other than sadness and guilt. Zoro wouldn’t dare think it - risk saying it - in case this was some kind of spell.

You spoke his name - beckoning him to follow you - just like Kuina. Underneath all of your softness you held your own fire, your own determination, that made you appear wild. The wind whipping at your hair and turning you ethereal amongst all the life that you held within your eyes.

Zoro could feel himself stuck between the place where he began and the place where he was going. Where you were waiting with Luffy, Usopp, and Nami. A place he never imagined his life would take him and yet…

The sound of Nami almost shouting his name shook him out of his thoughts and the sound of cracking glass filtered through moments later. He could feel the glass in his hand fracturing; dangerously close to collapsing inward if he squeezed harder. He set the weeping glass down and spared a glance to Nami as he removed himself from the seat.

“Hey, Zoro, are you okay?”

He hated how he could see the concern was etched into every crease of her features. The way she pretended to care. He made sure his hand was secured on the Wado Ichimonji before he stood to his full height. His eyes glancing over at you and Usopp now entrenched in a dance battle.

Suddenly, being inside the mouth of a fish made him feel like he was being swallowed whole. He couldn’t be near you - couldn’t risk confessing in the heat of a drunken moment that you had consumed him, mind and soul, and he wasn’t sure if he cared.

“I gotta go back to the Merry. Forgot something.”

“Forgot what? Zoro? Zoro!”

He didn’t look behind him to see what Nami was doing. Their earlier game of “guess my trauma,” officially over as he rushed towards the next dock. The pounding of his heart reminding him of the dangers of caring; of allowing yourself to get wrapped up in other people.

To this day, Zoro could still feel the ice that pierced his heart when he was told Kuina was gone. The way the world seemed to shift into madness and somehow remain the same. It was his mind that could no longer make sense of a world where she no longer resided. Zoro would’ve gone to the gates of hell to get her back if he could and with the searing vision of your smile, head whipped back in joy, Zoro felt that same exact emotion he’d felt over seven years ago.

He would tear the world apart to keep you in it and that was a confession he couldn’t afford to say.

For the last hour Zoro had been able to sit in the stillness of the ship and enjoy the silence. The only intrusive sound was that of things moving below the water and the of the wet stone sliding across the Wado Ichimonji.

It’d taken him longer than he’d ever admit to collect himself. His meditation hadn’t been able to clear his mind the way it usually did, and it wasn’t until he’d begun to take care of Kuina’s blade that his thoughts had ceased.

Of course, all good things were meant to come crashing down.

“How long do you think you’re going to hide out here and pout?”

Zoro’s wrist stopped mid-motion down the sword. His eyes unable to tear away from the moonlight gleaming on the blade just in case looking at you sent him reeling over the edge again.

Being alone with you on the Merry was about the worst thing that could happen to him. At least at the bar he would have continued to play twenty questions with Nami and been surrounded by plenty of sound to help drown out whatever was going on with him.

You aren’t focused.

But he was, wasn’t he? In the last seven years, Zoro had devoted himself to his training. To become stronger. Faster. The only swordsman to use three swords and earn the name of The Demon. With every waking hour Zoro was closer to becoming who he - who she - dreamed of being.

The sound of your footsteps drawing closer almost made him delirious. His hand tightening down on the wet stone before he set it down beside him. His eyes turned out to look once more into the endless midnight in front of him.

“Who says I’m hiding?”

His voice sounded rough, like it hadn’t been used in months. He picked up the rum he’d taken from his room and took a swig to clear his throat and his senses. By the time he finished taking his drink, you were standing beside where he sat on the crate. Your arms wrapped around your middle with your hip cocked looking like you were ready to give him hell.

I am hiding.

It was the only clear thought he had as his eyes adjusted to your presence. Your eyes were glassy from the alcohol even though you were trying to make it seem like you were sober, he guessed. But Zoro could tell you were tipsy with the way you swayed along with each push of the ocean’s wave against the ship.

He and Nami were going to have a talk about dressing you next time. Every part of you felt exposed to him and yet, it wasn’t enough. It was all just a game, teasing him constantly no matter what angle he looked at it. What was even worse was how the moon highlighted you in light and half in shadow.

“I say you are and we both know I’m usually right.”

A sly smile slid across his lips before he could stop it. His eyes transfixed while you took the finishing steps until you stood before him. With your arms back down at your side you felt more open to him, vulnerable somehow. It was the look in your eyes that told him why.

Maybe he wasn’t just imagining it too but what did it prove? You were both idiots on a sinking ship. Looking up at you now, the way you shamelessly devoured every inch the moonlight provided your eyes he knew you’d both happily drown.

“Is that so?”

“It’s the new unwritten rule on the ship.”

“Guess I’m going to have to have a talk with Luffy about that.”

“He’s still in the kitchen finishing up dishes if you want to be a good first mate and help him.”

“I should go help him.”

“The waiters in there with him, though.”

“He doesn’t need my help that bad.”

Zoro wasn’t sure what it was that made your head fall back the way it did. What it was that caused you to laugh the way you did with your hand covering your mouth as if it was enough to silence it. He didn’t know what he did, but he swore he would do it again just to see you like this.

“Is that why you are hiding out on the ship? Afraid of some competition?”

You went to sit down next to him and his hand reached out to grab you by your hip to stop you. It was meant to be a gesture to get you to stop. Instead, his hand slid under the fabric of the corset and he could hear the audible sharp whistle as you sucked in a breath. He wondered if you would let him keep it there, if you’d let him pull you closer until you were perfectly positioned between his legs.

As fast as his hand and touched you it retreated and it was his turn to stand.

“Let’s cut the chit chat. I have something better in mind.

“You seriously think now is a good time to train?”

You couldn’t believe it. Your brain was still a mess from seconds ago when his hand somehow found its way under your clothes. The way he’d looked up at you, you half expected him to pull you closer. The hunger that flashed in obsidian eyes was enough to make you think you were about to find out just how plush his lips might actually be.

As fast as it happened it ended and the disappointment was raw in your chest. Zoro, on the other hand, looked right at home.

“Why not? Did you have something else in mind?”

Yes.

“No,” you grumbled.

You were most definitely not pouting.

“Good. First, you have to fix your stance.”

“Okay, how should I be-“

A scream of shock left you as you nearly jumped out of your skin. You turned just in time to see him slide the handle of a sword back inside the sheath. The same one that he’d used mere seconds ago to smack against your bare thigh.

“Did you just spank me with your sword?”

God, he looked too pleased with himself.

“I could do it again, if you like.”

You could feel your mouth opening and closing. You didn’t know what to say. Yes, please do? That felt too desperate and yelling at him would do nothing but prove you did like it in some weird way.

Shit. Your cheeks were burning.

“How about we just direct me, verbally, like a normal sensei would do.”

“You could also call me master, instead of sensei, if you like.”

Zoro had stepped close to you - close enough if you leaned back just an inch you would be against him. His words were dripped heavily with teasing, but the way the husk of his tone whispered along your skin like a caress threatened to make your knees buckle.

This was supposed to be training for god sake. Clearing your throat, you dared to lean your head back just enough it rested on his chest. Your eyes batting up at him as you replied, “Or I can just call you an asshole.”

A heavy sigh blew through his nose as he stepped away from you, almost sending you falling on your ass.

“Do you even have a weapon?”

“There are pots in the kitchen,” you deadpanned.

Zoro looked at you like he would throw you over the side of the ship at any minute.

“I mean a real weapon.”

“My knife is in my satchel.”

You both stood there staring at one another. You weren’t sure what he was expecting you to do. If you were just magically supposed to make your satchel appear or leave to go get it. Zoro wasn’t saying much. He was just standing there one hand on his sword and a thumb tucked into his sash.

“Are you going to keep staring at me all night or are you going to go get it?”

Whatever tension that had been brimming between you, unspoken words, or anything else was instantly gone. All of it exploded by his usual rigid posture and dead-eye stare that only moments ago made you believe that maybe, just maybe, your drunken mind wasn’t as delusional as you thought.

“When I come back you better be ready to get your ass kicked,” you seethed.

You went to turn on your booted heel when a strong wave rocked the ship and almost sent you toppling forward. You’d braced yourself for impact; your knees colliding once again with the wood or possible scraps to your hands and bare legs.

Instead, your back collided with a warm body with a forearm locked around your middle keeping you impossibly tight against them. The scent of sandalwood and skin melded together flooding your scenes until your brain was in overload.

You looked back and found his face mere inches from yours. So close you could feel the heat of his breath along your jaw tempting you to close those last few inches. For a brief moment you thought you’d unlocked some new form of drunken bravery inside of you, but all of it came crashing down when Zoro let go and stepped away.

“Maybe I should walk back with you. You don’t seem like you’re able to walk.”

“Okay.”

You didn’t know what else to say. Should you tell him to come close again? Should you tell him that while he was equally the most infuriating human on the planet you somehow couldn’t imagine a space where he wasn’t in it?

How could knowing someone for only a short while turn into…this.

You knew you wouldn’t say any of it. Not even enough liquor in the world could get you to tell Roronoa Zoro, The Demon, that you had a crush on him just as deadly as he was.

So, you turned on your heel and headed back towards the giant mouth of the fish. The steady sounds of Zoro’s heavy footsteps right behind you until you finally made it back into the bar. You’d only gotten a few steps to the table when you realized something was wrong. A man in a trench coat and large hat with a feather was standing in front of Nami and Usopp. They didn’t appear frightened but…why was he there?

“Oh, hey guys! This is my new best friend-“ Usopp stated.

Nami softly smacked him on his chest as she cut in, “This is not our friend.”

The man in question turned to stare at Zoro and you. His eyes sunflower yellow with swirls like a bullseye within making you almost take a step back from him. You bummed back into Zoro and this time when you looked at him he no longer looked unreadable. He was looking at this man like he was a godsend - a dream come true in the form of curled mustaches and oversized feathers.

“You’re Dracule Mihawk.”

“I have business with your captain. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll hand him over.”

“Well, we don’t know anyone named Luffy, do we guys? Zoro?”

You’d been so enamored by Mihawk’s appearance you hadn’t realized Zoro had moved around you. His eyes still fastened to him as he moved around to face him.

“I’ve been following your career since I was a child. It’s an honor to finally meet you, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Mihawk looked bored out of his skull.

“Which is why it pains me to inform you that tomorrow you’re going to die.”

“Wait, what?”

“What the actual fuck…”

Your words came out as an uttered whisper. You were too shell shocked to say more - do more. It felt like you were watching this whole interaction through the lense of a telescope on a distant island where idiots roamed free.

“I, Roronoa Zoro, challenge you to a duel to the death.”

“What the actual fuck! Zoro!”

This time you were loud. Much louder than you wanted with every syllable ringing out your panic like a dinner bell.

“I’ve never heard of you.”

“They call me the Demon Pirate Hunter. But my lifelong dream is to best you in single combat and become the greatest swordsman in the world.”

“You’re serious.”

“Accept my challenge and I’ll show you how serious I am.”

“Very well. Tomorrow at dawn and when I’m done with you Pirate Hunter I’ll take your captain.”

No. No. No - “No.”

Your head was still ringing out with the word. Unable to comprehend what in the actual hell had just happened. You’d come back to get your small cutting knife. He was supposed to be training you right now back on the deck of the Merry. This was wrong. All wrong.

Nami leaned forward from her seat. Her own worry was bleeding into her eyes, her voice, as she asked, “What in the hell did you just do?”

You were still trying to figure that out when Zoro turned and walked away leaving dread the size of a crater to worm its way inside your chest.

As always, thank you all so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

____________

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gayerthanevertbh · 1 year

Text

she knows | high and dry part one.

navigation | natasha romanoff series masterlist

pairings: older!scarlett johansson x younger!reader

chapter one | chapter two: eyes on you

chapter summary: every minute and hour, you feel yourself slipping away from her - and you don’t know how to solve it out. what makes it worse is that she knows that you are slipping away.

warnings: slight angst, smut, strap-on used, dom!scarlett & sub!reader, pet names, dirty talking, and more.

author’s note: this is just a short chapter since it’s like an introduction of the story, so hopefully you’ll enjoy it! let me know your thoughts about this story, thank you <3

When I exited the diner outside of Manhattan, completely disheveled and with my eyes swollen to the point where you might have thought I was a walking zombie, the wind felt cold. I looked around and decided that maybe this time I could just walk home by myself without having to worry about my secret partner picking me up. Even though I adored her, she occasionally refused to move out of my way when I needed some alone time.

I zipped up my coat and set foot on a familiar road I had taken before I met her. Tonight was so chilly that I could hardly move as I stepped onto the pavement; I could see my own breath in the air. I considered what I'll have to do when I got back home. Homework is not an exception; it must be completed. Then I'll cook myself dinner and eat with my cat, Leo. And tonight, if I'm not mistaken, my roommate Aaron will be returning home. He loves to party at all hours and minutes, which is one thing I know about him. If I have time, I can call Scarlett and ask how she is doing today.

But sometimes, I don’t even like talking to her. She can be hard-headed, and most of the time she’s jealous of my roommate.

I soon arrived home and continued to do my thesis for tomorrow, which has to be passed before lunch break. I grabbed my phone from the table and received a message from Scarlett, as expected.

Scarlett: Baby, I could’ve picked you up… why didn’t you tell me you went home on your own? You know there are a lot of bad guys there that could hurt you.

I feel like I can't function on my own at this point. Scarlett would always get in the way when I tried to do that. Am I too flimsy? What was the matter with me? Nothing, I pondered. I was perfectly fine; she wasn't. She seems to be present with every move I make. And as much as I liked the idea of someone looking after me, it can be annoying. I typed a quick message and continued to study once it has sent.

You: i just feel like i wanted some alone time, scar.

Scarlett: I know, but this is a scary world. You live in New York, Y/n. Lots of bad things can happen here.

You: but i know how to take care of myself

Scarlett: I know you do, darling. Sorry, I just feel like I should be protective of a little girl like you.

I was too busy staring at my laptop screen and my cat's purring on the other side of the room to respond to her. I lifted him and placed him on my lap as I stood up. I rubbed him while imagining what my life would be like without her. I would have stayed the same, and I would have never gotten the job at the diner that she gave me.

I was making dinner when I heard the door being closed. I turned over my shoulder and it was Aaron coming inside, smiling at me with squinted eyes. He asked, “What are you making?”

“Grilled cheese sandwich,” I responded, chuckling as I flipped the sandwich on the pan. “Have you eaten dinner?”

He shook his head. “No,” he sat on the couch with his feet on the table, stretching out his arms. “I decided that I am going to be a changed man.”

He can be very funny at times; I find myself laughing at his remarks.

“Oh yeah? What made you realize that?”

He murmured, "Don't know." he pinched his forehead. "I think this was triggered for me when Alyssa broke up with me last week," he said, his voice getting a little more animated. “If I don’t party all the time, then I would save some of my money and spend it on something else.”

“With drinks?”

“No, with… expensive stuff.”

“Aaron, we don’t have space in our lot.”

Aaron clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Right, but maybe we should get a bigger lot then.”

“You do know that my oblivious mother is paying half of this rent, right?” he laughed at my response, then I could hear him walking towards me. “And besides, I like living here.”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that an actress, a famous one, is fucking me all the time.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Have you talked to your mom yet?”

My mother, I thought. She was exactly like any other mother, except she wasn't in my life. Though she does contribute to the rent in half, she never supports me emotionally. She never was. I could feel his eyes on me, and I stiffened. I replied with a stutter, “N-No, but I think I will call her later. I don’t know.”

After a short dinner with him, I took a quick bath and lit up my candle that smelled like lavender, since it was Scarlett’s favorite smell. I laid my head on the pillow and stroke my cat’s fur, feeling at peace.

Call her, I suddenly thought. Give your "girlfriend" a call; she deserves to hear about your day.

But what if I just need to be alone for now? I have to stop thinking about the guilt that is building inside of my body, I can’t handle it for now.

I just can’t.

When I exited the campus, Scarlett was waiting outside. She was smoking a cigarette inside her car because she found it relieved her anxiety when she saw students passing by. As soon as I entered her car, I kissed her on the cheek, watching her lips turn into a grin.

“Hey,” I greeted as I shut the door beside me. “Aaron isn’t in the apartment right now, do you want to come by and visit?”

“That was actually part of my plan since we can’t go out too much,” she said as she turned on the engine of her car. I felt her hand touching the back of mine. “I’ve missed you, baby. I felt like you were stressed out yesterday. Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head and sighed. She'll be upset if I let her know I've been feeling this way lately. Every time I bring up our relationship's affair, she gets upset. There’s no escaping that.

“Not really, I just want to be with you right now,” I whispered to her, which I fully meant it. I loved spending my time with her, it felt like our love grows each time we see each other. But sometimes, she just couldn’t leave me alone – it’s almost as if I was a predator in her eyes.

“Okay,” she whispered back, kissing the temple on my head. “Why don’t we get some food first, hm? You must be hungry.”

You’re a homewrecker, her wife would despise you.

She bought McDonald's for our lunch because that was our go-to comfort food, then she ate it at my apartment. I was happily munching on my french fries as I watched Scarlett put music into the CD player. Something like this should always be cherished and never let go, or it might just slip away as you blink your eyes close.

“How was class?” she asked in the midst of our conversation that we had a few minutes ago. “Did you learn a lot today?”

“Not really, our professor just wants us to write him something honest. But I don’t really know what he means by honest,” I explained. “Like does he want us to be honest with our feelings? Our thoughts? Anyway, I don’t even want to talk about it.”

“That’s okay, we don’t have to.”

She walked up to me and stroked the back of my hair, as she kissed the tip of my nose. I hear her say, “Everything’s going to be okay, my love. You don’t have to be scared about this, you know it will work out the way we planned to.”

“I know,” I answered as I watched her sitting down beside me, her hand still on my head. “I just feel like we’re hurting everyone around us. If your wife finds out about this, I don’t know how much I can live with that guilt. And if she even exposes me to the media, I don’t feel like I could blame her.”

“I’ll handle it, okay?” her voice felt reassuring, but it wasn’t enough. She leans closer and kisses me feverishly, I could feel myself stiffening. Mumbling, she added: “You don’t have to be scared baby, she’ll never hurt you. I won’t let that happen.”

She made love to me that day, her cock ramming up my insides, her hand on my lower back as she moans to my ear, biting the lobe. As the strap penetrated deeper into my body and struck the point that pushes me over the edge, I felt myself crying with both pain and pleasure. When she spoke to me, Scarlett would even purr the sweetest words into my ear. And as I heard the sound of our skin smacking against each other and felt it, I would just cling desperately to the arm of the couch.

“Fuck! You feel so good,” she whines, holding down my hips on the couch, making me let out a scream. “Oh god, keep yourself tight for me baby… just like that, yeah…”

“Scar–” my breath hitches. “M-Mommy, please slow down…”

She whines on top of me, and pulls her cock out slowly, then pushes it back in with a loud groan. She whispered, “Can’t help myself, sweetheart, your pussy is just so tight for me.”

I struggled to describe how I felt myself slipping into oblivion with each thrust she makes. She clung to me, her hips making a repetitive upward motion as I felt her wet lips on my shoulder. She placed her hand on my left breast and gave it a tight squeeze.

I screamed out of euphoria.

She grunted as she smacked my ass, her teeth feeling tense. "No one will ever make you feel good like I do," she said. “You can’t ever leave me, okay? You can't leave me, promise me that!”

She spoke with a desperate tone, and I'm not sure how to fix that. especially since I feel bad every time she shoves herself into me.

“I-I promise,” I mewled, my eyes rolling back in my head. “I won’t leave, Mommy.”

“I love you so much,” Scarlett cried out as we kissed each other sloppily. I felt her saliva all over my mouth. “Please don’t go, just don’t go…”

Squeeze it apart, that’s fine.

She knows.

let me know if you want to be tagged on the comment section below!

#scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #marvel fanfic #scarlett johansson smut #scarlett johansson fanfic #high and dry series

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

Text

{3} - Written in the Stars - Yandere!Idol!Yeosang X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Soft Yandere AU & Idol AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor, Slow Burn

Pairing: Yeosang X Reader (ft. platonic Ateez ensemble)

Words: 11,000

Warnings: Slow burn. Mentions of Jonghyun. Brief conversation to start about past insecurities. I think that's all. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, this chapter we get to see a little bit of how our dear Yeosangie is feeling. I'm doing my best not to make it a super sudden infatuation, but the feelings are there. Boy just doesn't want to admit it yet. That being said, I am super excited for a scene I have planned next chapter, so I hope you'll all look forward to it!! On a side note, I finally got my glasses!! Yay!! Anyways, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Disclaimer: It's not often this chapter where this applies, but the following is important to note:

"This represents a line spoken in Korean."

"Bolded represents a line spoken in English."

"Bolded and italics represents a line spoken in Japanese."

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two

Yeosang is not jealous.

He doesn’t get jealous when Atiny comment to him that San’s arms are more muscular than his are. Nor does he get jealous when other fans tell him that their bias is someone else, or would prefer a selfie with a different member other than him during fansigns.

Knowing whether people like him or not is none of his business.

So, when he notices that you seem to be messaging Hongjoong all day today leading up to the award’s ceremony instead of the group chat at first, he most certainly is not jealous. It definitely doesn’t bother him that the Captain of Ateez gets the fun, close-up pictures of your face while you’re getting ready for tonight. The kind one would normally only send to close friends. Nor does it irritate him that you only start sending those same selfies to the group chat once Hongjoong suggests it.

Jongho’s and Wooyoung’s whining also has nothing to do with it, of course.

Most of all, he doesn’t care that the guys all compliment you before he does when you send them all a proper photo of your face once you’re ready for tonight. It’s not like he wanted the honour of praising you first, or anything.

Yes, Kang Yeosang is certainly not jealous.

“I wonder what type of outfit she’s going to wear.” Jongho wonders aloud, managing to pull Yeosang out of his much too loud thoughts for the moment. He can see the younger flipping through all of the photos of your face that you sent them this afternoon, seemingly deciding between the two he likes the most.

“Does she usually get super dressed up for events?” Seonghwa asks, not even bothering to shift his gaze from the window.

“I think I’ve only ever seen her in dresses for formal events like the Writer’s Guild awards.” Hongjoong comments, gazing down at his phone.

He must still be chatting with you.

Yeosang’s jaw twitches. He blinks.

“I think I remember watching a clip from a question’s panel where someone asked her about it once,” Yunho hums, tapping his fingers over his knee as they make their way towards the venue. “From what I recall, she doesn’t necessarily like wearing skirts or shorts all that much.”

“Why?” The question is out of Yeosang’s mouth before he can stop it.

“If I recall, she gave a two parted answers.” Yunho replies.

“Oh, I think Bin sent me this clip before!” Wooyoung pipes up from the back seat. “I think she said something about a lot of clothing always being a bit too short for her height. She said something about being more comfortable in male styled clothing because of it. It’s also why she doesn’t wear a lot of short dresses.”

“The struggle is real,” Mingi sighs, shaking his head in understanding.

A comforting pat is given to his arm from San who sits beside the taller male for the moment.

“And the other?” It’s Seonghwa who asks, and Yeosang feels a subtle weight lift off of his shoulders at not having to ask again himself.

A frown pulls at Jongho’s features as he looks down at his lap.

“What?” San tilts his head, curious as to the sudden silence in the car. “What is it?”

“She said she just doesn’t like the way she looks in them.” Hongjoong voices from the front seat, a subtle downturn of his lips.

“I’m pretty sure she used different words that that, cause I remember Bin going off about it.” Wooyoung chuckles. “Give me two hours between them and she’ll never feel insecure about her thighs again.”

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa’s eyes look about ready to fall out of his head.

“What?” He complains. “It wasn’t me that said it! It was Changbin!”

“Doesn’t mean you have to tell us.” San smacks the male sitting on his opposite side.

“Like Jongho isn’t always thinking it.” Yunho teases, receiving his own harsh smack from the aforementioned male.

“He’s not the only one.” Mingi mutters, but not lowly enough.

“We’re about to arrive at the venue.” Hongjoong’s sharp gaze turns to look at all of them. “Keep it in your pants, and control yourselves.”

San sighs. “Just another casual day.”

Turning onto the street that will lead them directly to the red carpet set up at the venue, Yeosang remains quiet. Again, his jaw twitches, focussing his gaze on the passing scenery outside of the vehicle. He doesn’t know why the other’s comments bother him so much, but they do. Yet, he does whatever he can to not let it show.

“Her makeup still looks really pretty.” Jongho sighs, somewhat wistfully as he looks out his own window.

“Oh, will you ask her out already?” Yunho nearly rolls his eyes.

Jongho’s whole face begins to turn red as he sputters out a response.

“We all know you want to.” Hongjoong joins in on the teasing now, brow quirking in amusement as he sees Jongho avoiding his gaze.

“Nah, Jongho won’t be able to ask her out.” Wooyoung shakes his head.

“And why’s that?” Seonghwa shifts his body towards Wooyoung in the backseat.

“Cause Mingi or I will do it first.” Wooyoung states, rather proudly.

The tips of Mingi’s ears burn bright red as he begins to chuckle nervously, leaning back in his seat when he notices the death glare sent his way by the youngest. However, before any one of them can comment more on the matter, the car stops.

“We’re here.” Yeosang states, rather pointedly, as he nearly flings open the door to exit the vehicle, leaving the others stunned in silence behind him.

The second his foot makes contact with the carpet, screams and cheers erupt from the surrounding fans. Some go as far to start calling his name, hoping for him to spare a glimpse in their direction. Of course, he smiles politely, bowing to everyone around him as cameras flash periodically.

A minute later, and all of Ateez make their way down the carpet, stopping to pose for the cameras every now and then. The second they make it to the designated picture area, even more cameras start going off.

Through the thicket, Yeosang spots a few of his fansites. Though, with how the official photographers of the show quickly shout directions at the eight of them, he quickly forgets all about them. That is, until a small hush settles over the crowd.

The screaming fans seem to go silent as another car pulls up to the venue. The confusion as to why becomes apparent as soon as the person steps out of the vehicle.

The moment you step out of the vehicle, Yeosang cannot take his eyes off of you. Yet, it seems, neither can anyone else.

You seem to be wearing a sort of overcoat, reminiscent of a cloak. It’s deep red in colour, hiding whatever outfit you’ve chosen to wear tonight. All except for the black lace sleeves adorning your arms that poke out of the slits in the fabric. Yet still, the cloak suits you, and it matches the sinful shade of red painted elegantly on your lips.

Briefly, you make eye contact, and Yeosang swears his heart is about to burst out of his chest. The smile you send his way only confirms it.

The palms of his hands begin to sweat. A feeling of which he hasn’t experienced since their debut stages.

Just what are you doing to him?

An organizer approaches, walking beside you and whispering lowly in your ear. You seem to nod quickly to whatever she says, for in the next minute, you’re pausing in your steps to scan the crowd. It seems as if the call of your name has drawn your attention.

There, standing next to some Atiny’s he noticed earlier, is a small group of fans that seem to be completely awestruck by you. A few hold copies of your books in hand, smiles wide on their faces as you approach. The way he notices one of the males say something to you, only for you to turn your face away for the moment bashfully has an uncomfortable feeling settling in his chest.

Why does he want that to be him?

Yeosang only wishes he knew what you were saying, but from the way the fan’s faces light up, he can just tell that you’re probably making their entire evening. When you go so far as to sign the copies of their books and take a photo, he knows that you do. Though, that same male that complimented you seemed to be getting a little too touchy with you, in his opinion.

The feeling of someone gently nudging his side pulls him out of his thoughts of you. Blinking, his vision clears to see Wooyoung motion for him to continue down the line towards the red carpet interviewers that are now ready for them.

Just as Yeosang goes to take a step, they get told to wait once more.

“We’d love to get a few photos of you with that author for public relations.” A few photographers say, already having talked it over with the event’s staff.

The eight of them share a brief look before nodding, and Yeosang knows he’s not the only one that cannot control the upturn of his lips.

A kind greeting is the first thing that escapes your lips when you walk up to all of them. You bow politely, to which they bow and greet you back. A moment later, and the photographers have instructed you to stand in the centre of all of them, having four males on your either side.

Mingi and Yunho get told to stand directly beside you to offset the height, causing both Wooyoung and Hongjoong to get shifted to the ends. The fact that you stand just a smidge taller than Yunho signifies that you must be wearing some type of heels. From the way Jongho is staring at you like you’ve hung all of the stars in the night sky, Yeosang knows he’s probably right.

His brow twitches, his smile suddenly looking a little forced.

Soon, the photographers get you to shift poses slightly so that him, San, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung are crouched in front of the five of you behind them. While doing so, Yeosang manages to school his face back into that neutral expression everyone is used to from him. A moment later, and he’s posing for the cameras.

The minute you get told to place your hand onto Yeosang’s shoulder, he can feel the tips of his ears turning red. He just hopes people assume it’s from the chill gracing the night air. A stark contrast to the sudden way that he can feel his skin burning beneath your gentle touch.

A few more photos are taken like this until all of Ateez are finally told to move on to the interview portion of the night. Besides, the photographers want to get a few shots of you by yourself. Apparently, there’s going to be a big Naver article written about you attending these awards tonight, and the company wants as many photos as possible to choose from. The more they can get with you interacting with the other celebrities in attendance, the better.

Stepping up onto the little platform that they have set up for the interview, Yeosang follows wordlessly behind San. Three microphones gets passed to the group, one assigned to Hongjoong, one to Yunho, and one to Jongho. Though, with how they’re positioned, Yeosang knows that both Yunho and Jongho were just the unlucky ones to get stuck with the talking bits.

A few questions get asked, and he vaguely registers answers being given from his group mates beside him. He gives nods here and there in agreement, and that seems to suffice for now. That is, until one question draws his attention back to the two interviewers.

“We’ve been asking all of the artists here tonight, and some of their answers have shocked us.” The female host begins.

“There seems to be a common answer among certain groups, so we’d like to ask the members of Ateez now that same question.” The male host continues.

“Who’s performance are you looking forward to the most tonight?” The female host asks, looking between all of them.

As always, Hongjoong answers first.

“Ah, well, as Captain of Ateez, I’d say most of us are hoping Atiny will be looking forward to our special performance tonight.” Hongjoong begins with a smile, his eyes shining. “So, I will say I’m most looking forward to our stage.”

“Spoken like a true leader,” the male host nods in approval before turning his head to the member standing beside Hongjoong.

Mingi takes the mic Hongjoong offers him. “For me, I would have to say that I am most looking forward to Stray Kids performance tonight.”

Seonghwa is next, a soft smile painting his features. “Twice.”

Raising the mic back to his lips, Jongho is quick to answer. “Ah, well, I’m very much looking forward to hearing a particular speech from my favourite author.”

A few ‘oh’s and ‘aw’s are heard from the hosts and surrounding crowd.

“Yes, she seems to be a very popular choice in response tonight.” The male host notes. “Stray Kids’ Bang Chan said something that her performance is something he wishes he wrote himself after hearing it in rehearsals yesterday.”

“I cannot wait to see what it is!” The female host smiles, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “What about you, San?”

The mic in Jongho’s hands gets passed to the aforementioned male.

“Well, I’m personally excited for Seventeen’s performance.” He smiles.

“Ah, yes, a few members of Seventeen also said that they were excited to watch you all perform tonight, too!” The female host comments, nodding her head.

Wooyoung is next, but San already sees him holding onto a mic, so he passes his back to Jongho.

“My mind is telling me Stray Kids, but my gut is telling me NCT.” Wooyoung says, and the hosts share a chuckle.

“Changbin of Stray Kids said the same for your group.” The female host chuckles, a subtle blush rising to her features.

A blink, and the mic is back in Yunho’s hands.

“I would have to say that the performance I’m looking forward to the most is ours.” A wink is sent to the camera. “Atiny, we have a very special stage planned for you tonight. Please support and cheer us on!”

A roar erupts from the crowd, and the eight men all smile.

Finally, it’s time for Yeosang’s turn to answer, but again, he finds himself distracted by you. It looks like you’ve just finished up with the photographers who had made you take some photos with all of NCT just shortly after they had arrived.

The feeling of a microphone being shoved into his hands draws his attention back to the present, the hosts blinking at him expectantly.

Raising the mic to his lips, he has his prepared response ready, and on the tip of his tongue. Only, when he opens his mouth to speak, the answer that comes out shocks even him.

“Seems as if that author is a hot topic tonight!” The male host chuckles. “I certainly hope that she can live up to everyone’s expectations.”

“Speaking of, look who is coming to join us!” The female host motions for you to join all of them after being prompted by the staff.

Slowly, you begin to ascend the side steps, and all Yeosang can do is stare. His mind screams at him to move, to offer you his hand as you step towards him, but it seems as if he’s frozen in his spot. What only makes it worse is when he sees Yunho eagerly hop passed him and help you the rest of the way up onto the platform.

A polite ‘hello’ escapes you as you bow to both of the hosts, and all of Ateez again. A moment later, and they’re bowing back.

“You look absolutely stunning tonight, doesn’t she, boys?” The female host comments, a large smile on her face. Though, in the next moment, she leans into her co-host. “Oh, I forgot, can she speak Korean?”

“Yes, I can speak Korean.” You confirm, but only the people on stage hear you. You notice both host’s eyes going wide before the female motions for you to take a microphone in hand.

Yeosang graciously passes you the one in his hands, seeing as he stands on one side of you, while Yunho stands on the other. The moment you repeat the phrase, both hosts smile at you.

“It’s lovely to have you here with us this evening.” The female continues.

“It’s lovely to be here amongst such admirable people.” You reply, a soft smile painting your features.

“Kind, and beautiful,” the male comments, a small twitch to his brow upwards. “You must be very popular.”

Something about the host’s tone rubs Yeosang the wrong way.

A bashful look crosses your features. “Ah, thank you.”

“We were just chatting with the members of Ateez about who they’re most looking forward to seeing perform tonight,” the female host begins. “You seem to be a very popular answer amongst all idols.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet!” You place a hand onto your cheek. “I certainly do hope to live up to everyone’s expectations.”

The male host lets out a small puff in amusement.

“We talked with SHINee earlier in the night, and they informed us that you personally spoke with them about an aspect of your speech.” The male says. “Would you please divulge that with us now?”

“Unfortunately, that was a matter between myself and those four wonderful men.” You reply calmly. “Besides, I think I would rather let my words speak for themselves. You’ll all find out soon enough why, anyways.”

“Understandable!” The female continues. “Anyways, one final question for you before we bid farewell to Ateez for now.”

You nod, eagerly.

“Who are you most looking forward to seeing perform tonight?” She asks, leaning in slightly to catch your answer.

“Oh, excellent question!” You chuckle. “You see, I’m very indecisive, so my immediate response is everybody. This truly is a dream come true for me. However, if I have to choose, other than these fine gentlemen here,” you motion slightly to the Ateez members around you, “I would always have to say SHINee. Though, I think my one friend might have something to say if I don’t add NCT in there, as well.”

The hosts laugh along with you, though the male’s seems a little strained.

Yeosang frowns, but not even a millisecond later, his expression is neutral once more.

“Well, thank you so much for stopping to answer our questions!” The female smiles. “We have a few more for the lovely author here, but the Ateez members are free to head inside.”

Reluctantly, Yeosang begins to follow the other guys inside the venue, only catching little snippets of the hosts beginning to ask you some more questions. The way he looks back to see some NCT members waiting at the side of the stage, Mark at the forefront of the group and looking up at you in awe, twists his stomach.

“Didn’t realize you were looking forward to her speech that much, Yeosangie,” Wooyoung teases as soon as they’re out of earshot from the press.

“Shut up,” the male grumbles, rolling his eyes slightly.

“I wonder what type of outfit she’s wearing under that cloak,” Jongho wonders aloud, almost absentmindedly as they all make their way towards the green rooms to drop off their coats.

Luckily for them, there seem to be a few screens in the backstage area playing the interviews taking place outside. One of the hosts must have just asked you that same question, for you chuckle fondly.

“Well, avid fans of my first published series will certainly be very pleased.” You wink at the camera, and the female host pretends to swoon.

“I absolutely adore those books!” She says. “I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us tonight!”

Unfortunately for Yeosang, the members get ushered away from the screen to prepare for the beginning of the show. Well, at least Hongjoong does since he’s participating in your speech.

The crew had everyone rehearse in reverse show order yesterday, which means you’re the opener. You’ve already expressed your slight nerves to the group chat, them all reassuring you that you’ll do great. From how well rehearsal went yesterday, Yeosang has no doubt in his mind that everyone will love what you have planned.

Walking out into the artist area after dropping off their coats, the boys (minus Hongjoong) move to their designated seats. Yeosang waves to a few fans that call his name, as do the other members, bowing politely to their seniors and smiling at their juniors. The second they sit at their designated couches, Changbin is leaning over from the one beside theirs.

“Heard staff muttering you got to take photos with everyone’s favourite author tonight.” He meets Wooyoung’s gaze, and Yeosang notices Felix also looking their way. “We are so jealous.”

“We got told Chan commented on her speech during the interview.” Yunho hums, leaning back comfortably in his seat.

“Minho had to subtly elbow him to prevent him from taking things further.” Jisung grins knowingly.

“The way he was praising her might draw some unwanted attention from dispatch.” Minho shrugs casually.

“Not that our Channie Boy would mind.” Seungmin grins teasingly, a wiggle to his brows.

“Says you!” Jeongin cuts in. “Who’s the one that started lamenting about serenading her first at karaoke, and then asking her to sing a duet with him?”

Yeosang shifts in his seat, somewhat unknowingly.

“Like hell I’m letting you serenade her first!” Jongho frowns, meeting Seungmin’s gaze from across the two tables.

“Bring it on, Apple Boy.” Seungmin quirks a brow in challenge as the others simply look on in amusement.

“Careful, he might threaten to split you in half like one.” Yeosang comments, tone a little firmer than he intends. A fact which does not go unnoticed by his group mates.

“What? Speaking from experience?” Changbin laughs.

“I think you’ll have to fight Hyunjin asking her to learn Red Lights with him first.” Jisung casually adds, taking a sip from a water bottle provided for each of the members at the couches.

“Hyunjin wants her to learn Red Lights with him?” Mingi’s eyes nearly bulge right out of his head.

“He said he’d also be willing to perform Red Velvet’s Psycho again with her if she asked.” Seungmin hums.

Another cheer from the crowd erupts as NCT enters the area, and Yeosang notices how one-two-seven ends up being assigned the couches on the opposite side of them. Polite bows and greetings are sent their way, and Yeosang cannot help but notice that Mark sits the closest to their own seats.

“That’s not to mention how both Felix and Hyunjin both want to teach her Taste.” Minho huffs out a laugh, leaning back in his seat.

“We told you that you’re welcome to join us,” Felix comments, a chuckle falling from his lips. “Man’s too proud to say that he was impressed by her dancing skills.”

“She might feel too crowded having three males teaching her that type of dance.” Minho replies with a shrug, but he cannot hide the way he averts his gaze to the floor somewhat bashfully. “I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, is all.”

“That won’t stop Changbin.” Jisung teases.

“Hey!” The aforementioned male whines.

“Aww, does our little Lee Know have a crush, too?” Seungmin teases, Jeongin joining in quickly at the way the elder male’s cheeks flare.

“Hey!” He smacks the both of them on their thighs.

“Should we start that ‘simp squad’ now?” Wooyoung leans over to Changbin, hands gripping the armrest of the couch.

“What do you mean ‘start’?” Changbin laughs. “Felix and I have already been members for months.”

“And you didn’t invite me?” Wooyoung gasps, absolutely appalled by this turn of events.

“Oh, make sure you go around to all of the groups with the sign up list.” Johnny’s voice from their opposite side draws their attention. “I know plenty who would gladly join. Right, Mark?”

At the way they all turn to face NCT now, Johnny chuckles. Even Mark’s face begins to go bright red.

Yeosang exhales a deep sigh through his nose, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans further back into the couch. It appears that Twice has just arrived, the females taking their seats on the couches in front of them. Again, more polite bows and greetings are sent to the other artists, to which they are given back.

“Actually, I think combining them would be better.” Jungwoo joins in on teasing his bandmate. “Mark’s already president, vice-president, and head of his own. A merger might incite better relations in the simp community.”

“This is a completely casual conversation.” San nods, blinking a few times in earnest. A moment later, he’s nodding to himself. “Everyday, normal topics.”

Laughter erupts from around him.

“Just because you and Yeosang don’t read her books, doesn’t mean we don’t.” Jongho grumbles.

“Believe me,” Seonghwa leans back, crossing his one leg over the other. “We know.”

More laughter erupts around them.

“Not my fault you all don’t have taste.” Mingi huffs, a slight pout pulling at his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You know, as a curtesy, I think you should read at least one of her books now.” Yunho hums, looking between both San and Yeosang. “You’re both technically friends with her.”

“How come you’re not harping on Hwa for not reading her books?” San whines, motioning to the aforementioned male with a jerk of his chin.

“Because unlike some people, I actually borrowed her first series from Joong after we met.” Seonghwa snorts, amusement dancing in his gaze. “Never thought I would like that type of genre, but she writes it quite well. I just wish she would mention Star Wars more.”

The pout that pulls onto his lips is almost comical, and Yeosang nearly rolls his eyes.

“It’s not her favourite series.” He replies, somewhat bluntly.

All heads turn to him, some with quirked eyebrows.

“Then, what is her favourite series?” Jongho quirks a brow almost smugly, appearing ready to correct the elder and prove how much more he knows about you.

“Lord of the Rings.” Yeosang states, blinking as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait, how do you know that?” Wooyoung frowns, and Yeosang notices he’s not the only fan of yours that does so.

“She told me on the plane.” There’s a subtle quirk to the corner of his lips as he says this. A certain undertone of smugness that causes him to sit a little straighter in his spot.

However, before any of them can respond, the lights are dimming throughout the venue, and a hush settles over the crowd. An opening VCR begins to play, introducing the acts that will be performing tonight, interspersed with live shots from all of the artists sitting in their designated seats. Cheers erupt from the crowd as certain groups appear on screen, a grand instrumental accompanying the visuals.

Turning his head slightly, Yeosang can spot multiple varying lightsticks throughout the crowd, shining brightly in the darkness. The way the little glowing orbs shake along with the fan’s cheers makes him smile softly, and he knows he’s not the only one.

A voice booms through the speakers at the end of the video, announcing the start to the ceremonies, and outlining the safety procedures for the evening should they be needed. Once it has finished, another hush settles over the crowd as the stage is revealed, only for a loud roar to erupt in anticipation.

From the back of the stage, you begin to walk forward towards the lone microphone standing at the front. You seem to be holding a small notebook and pen in your hands, clutching them close to your body as you step forward slowly.

The moment the spotlight hits you, the crowd goes silent. Then, it’s as if many share a collective gasp as your full form takes centre stage. Finally, your outfit for the evening has been revealed, and from the way he can hear the sharp intake of breaths from your self-proclaimed biggest fans, he knows that what you’re wearing holds some sort of significance to you.

The dress is beautiful. The black lace starts with an off the shoulder neckline, trailing all the way down to your wrists in an intricate design. The material flares slightly at the waist, reaching all the way down to the floor, dragging elegantly over the stage as you walk forward. Gradually, the black material fades into a navy blue, until it bleeds into a vibrant royal blue at the bottom. The design is slightly form fitting, too.

Yes, there is no question about it. The dress is stunning. Yet, even more so, the person wearing it.

From his vantage point, Yeosang can practically see you glowing up on stage. The smile you wear is radiant, those sinful red lips of yours pulling across your features as your eyes shine. The screens projecting your image to the audience only serve to accent every little thing about you, and Yeosang can feel his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He swallows thickly.

“Holy shit.” Jongho gasps, and the elder male swears the younger has stopped breathing for the moment.

“What?” Yeosang frowns, noting all of the awed stares you’re receiving from the idols around him. Hell, even the way some of the Twice members squeal lowly in front of him only causes his brow to furrow even more. “What is it?”

“She’s wearing that dress.” Yunho breathes, blinking in awe as he leans forward in his spot to get a better glimpse of you on stage.

“What dress?” His brow furrows deeper, eyes scanning over your figure once more.

From in front of him, he can vaguely hear the Twice members muttering about how you look absolutely divine.

The corner of Jongho’s lips quirk upwards, a small puff of air escaping his nose. “Read her books.”

Yeosang shoots a pointed side-eyed look the younger’s way, jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth in annoyance. Why does Jongho always feel the need to gatekeeper everything about you that Yeosang asks about? It’s not fair. He wants to know you, too.

A still silence settles over the entire venue.

“Hello, everyone,” your voice comes out smooth and steady as you address the crowd, welcoming all to the ceremony and introducing yourself all the while. “Tonight, a celebration will be taking place. A celebration of life, beauty, and music. A celebration I am honoured to be apart of, and am grateful to be experiencing with all of you.”

Soft smiles paint the faces of the people around him, but none are as proud as Mark’s looks right now. The special gleam Yeosang can see shining within the males’ eyes has him huffing out a small breath, focussing back on you in the next second.

“Tonight, we are all here for one common purpose,” you state, eyes staring into the camera before you. “To celebrate art.”

The screens light up behind you, the words appearing in golden writing upon a pure black background.

“Art comes in many different shapes and forms, but to many,” you smile softly, “art is life.”

A brief pause as the screens begin to play a video showcasing different forms of art.

“It fills a room with music.” A new voice - Bang Chan - says.

The lights on the composers come up and a collective gasp is heard from the audience as both him and Jihoon are revealed. A montage of both Jihoon and Bang Chan working in their studios appear on screen.

“With vibrance.” Seulgi’s voice is heard cutting through the silence as the lights come up on the three visual artists.

Images of Renjun’s, Hyunjin’s, and Seulgi’s art are displayed on screen. A few pictures and silent clips of them working on said items or presenting them with smiles on their faces appear as well.

“And elegance.” Momo is the next to speak, Ten and Taemin flanking her on either side as the dancers are highlighted.

Clips of all three of them dancing in their respective practice studios flash across the screen, and even some of the collaborations between artists. Momo’s cover of Taemin’s Move appears, and even some different Super M performances focussing on both Ten and Taemin are displayed briefly.

“It showcases one’s highs,” Key’s voice is heard after a moment, Onew standing right beside him with a smile on his face.

Live performances of each male during concerts and comeback stages are shown, and even a short, silent clip of Onew performing Nessun Dorma.

“And their lows.” The lights on the rappers come up, Dahyun grinning widely at the crowd as Taeyong smiles beside her.

Performances of both NCT and Twice flash on screen, both idols in the midst of rapping their verses for their respective songs.

“It allows us to express who we are in different ways.” The idols you have chosen to represent fashion are showcased next, and Yeosang immediate recognizes Hongjoong’s own voice coming through the speakers.

Behind them, a montage of Baekhyun at his Privé Alliance premiers are combined with clips of Hongjoong refashioning clothing. Even a few shots of Hongjoong attending Paris Fashion Week for Balmain are shown.

“And even become who we are not, even if just for a short while.” The actors are brought into the spotlight, Minho standing proudly beside Kyungsoo as the former finishes speaking.

Multiple shots from each male’s respective dramas are shown, showcasing their versatility in the acting field. Even a few interviews and behind the scenes footage are shown wherein the two speak about their various roles they have performed over the years.

“Art encompass all aspects of a person’s life, and lives in collaboration with the artist, just as we do with one another.” Your voice draws everyone’s attention back to you for the moment, still standing at the front of the stage. “It has many angles, just as we as people do. When you change your perspective, it can become many different things. For art is not defined by one, single thing, nor will it ever be.”

“However, it does not do well to forget that despite all of its joys, art can be lonely.” You say, and Yeosang notices quite a few nodding along with your words, especially the idols on stage. “It allows us to channel our inner thoughts and feelings into a process so that others never have to feel as alone as we do. It is there for us in our darkest times, and shines with us in the light. For, even when we are alone, we always have art. It is constant and reassuring. It allows us to all express our fears, and our vulnerability. It allows for others to observe such pieces ands say, ‘I understand, for I have felt this way, too.’ Most importantly, it says, ‘you are not alone.’”

Clips of personal hardships are shown of the various idols standing on stage with you. Tears of joy, of pain, and of sorrow are shed, along with demonstrations of all of the hard work, time, and effort that go into each different art form.

Pages upon pages are edited together, showing scribbles and writings across them. Some end up torn out of the notebook, while others are shown being crumpled up and tossed aside.

That’s when Yeosang realizes, that this is your portion of the video. Your own art form taking shape in writing as a blank page with a cursor blinking almost ominously overhead is shown.

“Art can be simple, and it can also be complex.” You say. “Yet, always. Always, always, always, it starts with a single idea.”

A stereotypical ‘Once upon a time…” is seen being typed out onto the blank document showcased onscreen.

“Art starts with a vision, and a dream.” You say, and your fingers tighten the slightest bit on that pen and notebook clutched in your hand. “For me, it starts with a blank page, and a pen. All it takes is a single spark. A moment of clarity through the chaos that is life to help guide us in a way that we wish to experience with other people. Yet, at the core of all of this, is one binding factor.”

Quickly, you flip open that notebook and scribble something onto a page. Turning it around to show the camera reveals a close up shot of your writing spelling out the word that immediately appears on screen.

The word for ‘love’ appears in big golden letters above your head, and a collective gasp is heard from the audience. A fact which is only emphasized when each idol standing on stage with you pulls out a piece of paper of their own, the word love written in their mother tongue in their own handwriting on each.

“Every artist is passionate in what they do; art encompasses the mind, body, and soul of the person who creates it. Art is meant to be shared in all of its forms, and it is you who allow us to continue to be our authentic selves through such self expression.” You continue, voice strong as you stand tall. “The amount of love, time, dedication, and energy put into a single piece always shines through. I can think of no better example for this that the late Kim Jonghyun, who’s artistic views have not only inspired me, but so many of my fellow artists around the globe. His dedication and love for his craft was clear in everything that he did, and continues to be a guiding light for many artists still struggling in the dark.”

Behind you, the camera picks up a single tear trailing down the side of Minho’s cheek. Though, from the looks of things, some of the other idols sharing the stage with you do not fare any better.

“No matter what type of life we lead as individuals, we are all bound by a common love for art.” The soft smile is back on your face. You take the time to look around at the artists before you sitting in the couches, along with many of the staff continuing to work to keep the show running. You briefly meet Yeosang’s gaze. “It is what connects us, for art is eternal. Love inspires art, and art inspires love. It is apparent in everything that we do, the people we are, and who we are meant to become.”

“Tonight, we are all here on common purpose,” your gaze is back on the camera before you, bars of music appearing on the screen behind you as notes begin to form on the sheet music. “Tonight, it is our love of music which connects us all.”

More nods are seen all around, a few even already shedding tears along with your words.

“As a beautiful poet, and artist once said, "Even though we can’t communicate using the same language, we use music instead.””

Both Key and Onew swallow thickly. Tears now trail a path down both of their faces as the quote appears on screen, Jonghyun being cited beneath as the speaker of such words.

Many sniffles are heard from the surrounding crowd, many openly sobbing along to your final words as you begin to wrap up your speech for the evening.

“Art is timeless, and knows no bounds. It transcends cultures, languages, and even memory. For even after an artist has passed, their legacy lives on. It lives on in their work, yes, but it also lives on in all of us. Each of us carries that passion, that drive, to strive to be our best selves, and produce art that we can all be proud of. We as artists pour our blood, sweat, and tears into everything that we do, in hopes to share it with you. For art is love, and without love, there would be no art.”

“After all, a heart without art is just eh.”

A few chuckles are heard throughout the crowd as you speak those words in English, shrugging along to them lightly. The video behind you demonstrates the word ‘Heart’ failing as the ‘Art’ portion is removed.

“I would like to end now, with a final quote from Jonghyun which has inspired me, even in my darkest times. For more than everything I have said here tonight, it is always important to remember this: we, as individuals, are all priceless pieces of artwork in our own rights.” Your eyes begin to shine with unshed tears, your breath hitching in your throat momentarily as you look out into the crowd one final time. Taking a deep breath in, you begin to speak once more, the quote appearing in perfect time with each word you go on to say, “The most beautiful thing in all the world is right now. This moment. You. Don’t ever forget that.”

A brief pause where you swallow thickly, a single tear sliding down the side of your cheek.

You bow deeply. “Thank you very much.”

The moment you straighten back to your full height on stage, a tremendous applause greets you. Yeosang hasn’t even realized he’s started crying until he feels the first of his tears land on the skin of his hands, yet he knows he’s not the only one. Inside that venue, he’s pretty sure that there’s almost no dry eye in sight. Besides, the response from the crowd is too authentic and loud to suggest otherwise.

A blink, and Mark Lee is standing to his feet, followed immediately by all of the NCT members present at the event. Twice is the next group to stand, Jongho springing up as well before any of the members can stop him.

The crowd seems to follow the idol’s lead, for a moment later, the entire venue is giving you a standing ovation. Even both Irene and Wendy are reluctantly on their feet, tears falling freely down their faces despite their attempts to hide them.

What makes this moment even more special, is that on stage, the idols you have chosen to help you all step towards you. However, it is the four members of SHINee that approach you, bowing to you in tandem as you bow back. A moment later, a staff member hands something to Taemin onstage.

It takes a few moments for the applause to die down and for everyone to settle back into their seats. Once they do, it’s like a new sense of calm and understanding has passed over the entire crowd as the members of SHINee address you.

“You have once again proven your elegance with words here tonight in front of all of us,” Jinki begins, a fond smile gracing his features.

“You have reminded us all of why we are here, and why each and every one of us continues to strive for perfection in everything that we do.” Minho is the next to speak, standing tall as he looks upon you with pride.

“We would like to now thank you for your hard work and dedication to your own craft which you have shared with all of us tonight.” Key tilts his head in acknowledgement at you, eyes shining as Taemin approaches you with an award held in his hands.

“In honour of this ceremony tonight, we would like to present you with this artists award for the written word.” Taemin speaks lowly, handing the little statuette to you as a few more tears escape your eyes. He leans in, the cameras catching the way his own tears continue to fall freely down his face. “Thank you for honouring our brother.”

Another round of applause is heard from the audience.

“May this award solidify the relationship between artists, and the bond of love that we all share towards a common craft.” Minho smiles at you as you bow once more, thanking each one of them earnestly without a moment’s hesitation.

The transitional instrumental begins to play over the speakers as you all exit the stage. Most of the idols around you begin to congratulate you on your way out, you inclining your head to them in time and smiling widely.

Yeosang only wishes he could be up there, too, celebrating in your own victory.

A minute later, and the first idol performance kicks off, the crowd cheering along with the music. It takes a few minutes before most of the idols return to their groups after helping you with your performance, but still, you do not appear.

No, you do not appear in the artist’s area for over twenty minutes. Twenty painstakingly long minutes where Yeosang subtly keeps glancing towards the side, hoping that you’ll appear at any moment.

Once you do, though, it’s as if all eyes are drawn to you.

Walking with a staff member to your designated seat, you get stopped lightly by a few groups. Congratulations are heard all around, some idols going so far as to stand and bow to you, mumbles of gratitude falling from their lips. Of course, you immediately smile and bow back, talking lightly to those that wish to converse with you during the small interludes between performances.

Finally, you reach your seat, and it looks las if they’ve seated you right next to Twice, but in front of NCT for the show. A fact that normally Yeosang wouldn’t take much notice of, were you anyone else. However, the fact that it’s you, and that you’re so far away bothers him.

It’s not like he wants to congratulate you himself or anything.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices both Jongho and Wooyoung stand to their feet. Both Felix and Changbin do as well. Not that Yeosang is keeping tabs, or anything.

“Where are you two going?” His gaze narrows at them suspiciously.

“To congratulate our friend,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “What does it look like we’re doing?”

“Joong already did, though.” Seonghwa frowns, a hint of worry on his features as he glances around at all of the cameras watching their every move.

“We know.” Jongho hums, shrugging nonchalantly. “So, if anyone asks, we’ve just gone to the washroom.”

“Let them go,” Hongjoong huffs out a laugh. “I certainly don’t want to listen to them whining about it the whole show.”

“They’ll be a few seats away, and it’s not like idols haven’t switched couches before during shows.” Yunho hums, amusement dancing in his gaze.

Yeosang can only watch, frozen to his spot as the two youngest members make their way over to you with both Felix and Changbin shortly after that.

Currently, you appear to be talking lightly to both Sana and Mina for the moment. The three of you lean closer in to one another as a small break is taken as the stage gets set for the next performance.

The second you see Felix, Changbin, Jongho, and Wooyoung appear, you smile. However, due to the angle Yeosang is sitting in, he cannot tell what you’re saying. Instead, he opts to lean back onto the couch, a huff escaping him as his lips tug downwards in the corners.

“If it bothers you that much, go with them.” Hongjoong chuckles, taking notice of the pout Yeosang seems to wear.

“I’m not bothered.” Yeosang is quick to reply, diverting his gaze to the men sitting beside him.

“Mmhmm,” Yunho hums, a knowing quirk to his brow. “And Jongho isn’t on his knees proposing as we speak.”

Yeosang’s head whips in your direction.

A boisterous laugh greets his ears as he sees you continuing to casually converse with the four other idols. None of them are on their knees, nor have they even moved a single inch.

If looks could kill, Yunho would be ten feet under.

“Oh yeah, definitely not bothered.” San quirks a brow, the corner of his lips quirked upwards smugly.

“Shut up.” Yeosang grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Just admit you’re starting to like her, and be done with it.” Mingi shrugs, patting the male beside him lightly on the knee.

“It’s not like that.” Yeosang shakes his head lightly, eyes catching on the way you seem to throw your head back in laughter at something Wooyoung has just said. His jaw twitches in annoyance.

“Sure, it’s not.” Seonghwa grins.

“It’s not!” Yeosang can feel his face heating beneath their knowing stares. “I haven’t even known her for a month!”

“It doesn’t take long to start developing feelings for someone.” Hongjoong comments casually, turning his attention back to the stage as the next group walks into position.

“You guys are making a mountain out of a mole hill.” Yeosang huffs, turning back to face forward as well.

Even though the guys all choose to say nothing as both Jongho and Wooyoung return to join them, Yeosang can just tell that they still don’t believe him.

No, there’s nothing there. Just like how Yeosang is not jealous, he doesn’t have any other feelings towards you other than friendly. You don’t even know each other all that well, especially not like that.

Yet.

Yeosang blinks, surprising himself with that small voice that sounds at the back of his head. He should be used to it by now, but he finds that everything about you throws him off. In a good way, of course. You’re just never what he expects, and for some reason, the thought of growing closer to you, even just as friends, warms his heart more than anything. He wants to support you, just as you’ve incurred that you’ve been supporting him all of this time.

Why then, does the thought of you with anyone else, or even the sight of you getting along so well with another male, bother him so? Why is it when even his closest friends make you smile, his heart hurts?

Yeosang gets so lost in his thoughts, that he barely registers the time passing by. The only two things that manage to snap him out of his daze of staring longingly in your direction half of the time is when Ateez wins an award and has to go up on stage to accept it, and when they are finally taken backstage to get ready for their performance.

In the back of his mind, Yeosang hopes that you’ll be focussed on him.

Standing in the wings, he cannot help but smile to himself. From his vantage point backstage, he can just make out your figure sitting on the couches, dancing along to Stray Kids’ performance right now. The way you excitedly mouth along to the words, potentially even singing along to them has the infectious joy on your features flooding his veins. He cannot help but get lost in the way you move, captivating him with something as simple as nodding your head and shifting your shoulders along to the beat.

Will you do the same for Ateez? Will you be just as content to sing along to the lyrics and music that he is about to perform? Will you, and he silently hopes this beyond everything, be as captivated by him as he is by you?

“Ateez, standby.” A crew member says, headset blinking periodically as they finish guiding the members to their entrance spots.

A large roar is heard from the crowd in response to Stray Kids wrapping up their set, the members rushing passed Ateez as they exit the stage.

Brief congratulations and praises are shared, Wooyoung and Changbin playfully teasing each other about who is going to win their bet of having your gaze on them more when performing. Though Bang Chan and Hongjoong chuckle fondly, Yeosang cannot help the irritated twitch of his jaw.

A minute later, Ateez is entering the stage.

The crowd once more erupts in cheers as their intro begins playing, their names being introduced onscreen as their opening VCR plays in the background. Yeosang can feel that typical rush of adrenaline flooding his veins, taking a deep breath in and getting into his starting position.

The music begins.

Each move is precise, the dance flowing between all of them just as every time they both practice and perform. Not a single error is seen from any of them, and the energy from the audience feeds into each of their movements, giving them motivation to continue and perform even better than before. Of course, it helps when certain close ups of the members cause cheers to erupt, or certain parts of the song.

The moment Yeosang steps to the front to do his part, the movements second nature to him by now, he spares a glance in your direction.

There you sit, completely mesmerized by him. Your eyes are wide, hand resting over your heart as you lean back into the couch as if you’re swooning.

Yeosang smirks, putting even more effort into his every movement. He needs to continue to feel your eyes on him every second of this performance, because it motivates him to do even better than before.

If your touch is fire, then your gaze is electricity, setting his whole body alight in the best ways possible.

The minute the stage ends, Yeosang darts his gaze over to you once more. The fact that he can see you cheering loudly causes his already racing heart to stutter, a smile pulling at his features all the while. There’s a sense of pride building in his chest, more so than usual, and he absolutely revels in it.

It takes them about ten minutes to cool down backstage. Each male takes the time to change out of their performance outfits, allowing the staff to wipe the sweat from their faces before heading back to their seats.

The minute they return to the couches, they see you smiling widely at them. The added fact that you send them two enthusiastic thumbs up, mouthing ‘great job’ towards them, has them all smiling and bowing at you in thanks.

Yeosang’s heart absolutely soars, but he can tell that he’s not the only one. Even both San and Seonghwa look absolutely thrilled to be receiving your praise, giddy grins tugging onto their features as they walk passed. It’s only when Jongho sits on the couch directly beside yours that Yeosang realizes that the Twice members have all been brought backstage for their own performance.

Wooyoung is the next to sit on that same couch, and soon, all of Ateez takes over the spot where Twice had once been. You talk lowly with them, congratulating them again on an excellent performance while talking excitedly about your favourite parts. A fact of which makes all of them nod along eagerly, for you have something to praise about all of them.

The moment Yeosang’s name slips passed your lips, his eyes are on you.

“I know for a fact I wasn’t the only one captivated by your part tonight.” You say, eyes shining as you meet his gaze. “You should have heard the way Itzy squealed beside me. It was so validating to know I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.”

Sure enough, when his gaze darts passed your head, he can see Itzy smiling and waving at him from the couch to the left of your own.

He turns back to you.

Lowly, he thanks you, and again, he can feel a vibrant warmth spreading onto his cheeks. Yet, all too soon, you’re moving on.

“And that high note!” You turn to Jongho, fingers squeezing the arm of the couch beside you. “God, I always love watching your live stages cause you guys don’t just perform, you perform.”

The way you emphasize that word has smiles rising to all of their faces, especially when they watch you lean forward slightly as you say such a thing. This is the first time they’ve ever truly experienced you talking like this about them, and each male wants to enjoy it. Though, some are definitely enjoying it more than others. Including Yeosang.

“I could literally go on forever about this, but I’ll spare you guys from my rant beforehand.” You chuckle, shifting back into your original position.

“Really, I don’t think any of us would mind.” Hongjoong grins at you, but the way his eyes flash suggests he knows something that the others don’t.

“Yeah, okay, captain of the stage demons,” you snort. “You’re really not slick in still trying to figure out my bias to your group. You ask me more times than the Iron Lung over here.”

At the way you motion to Jongho with your thumb, the guys and you all share a laugh.

“Didn’t realize Captain was that interested in learning your bias,” Wooyoung’s eyebrow quirks mischievously. “And after that huge ass lecture on the way home from rehearsals yesterday about giving you space about it.”

Hongjoong looks about ready to leap across the couch and start smacking Wooyoung upside the head.

“I honestly don’t mind not knowing.” Hongjoong says, though the fact that he forces a tight smile suggests otherwise.

“Really?” You grin, tilting your head forward knowingly. “Mister ‘don’t look at other idols’ doesn’t care whether or not my bias to his group is actually him or not?”

“I don’t say that!” His mouth falls open in shock.

All heads in Ateez turn to look at Hongjoong, blinking in disbelief.

“Okay, maybe like, once,” he grumbles.

Yunho snorts out a laugh, “yeah, maybe once today.”

A playful smack is given to the younger male, who pretends to rub his side in pain.

“Whatever,” Hongjoong mumbles. “You help a friend out with their presentation, and they won’t even tell you their Ateez bias afterwards.”

You laugh.

“As long as I’m your wrecker, that’s all that matters.” Wooyoung chimes in, a firm nod to his head.

“Given up on the notion that you’re her bias already?” San asks, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Where’d that confidence from the plane ride go?”

“Didn’t you know, a person’s bias is most like them, and their wrecker is their ideal type?” Wooyoung proudly repeats the words you told him yesterday.

All eyes are instantly on you.

“Okay, so, who’s your Ateez bias wrecker?” Mingi asks eagerly, leaning forward slightly in his seat.

Again, you laugh. “If I’m not telling you my bias, I’m most certainly not telling you my wreckers.”

Yeosang’s brow quirks, but his face remains neutral for the most part.

“It has to be one of us,” Seonghwa frowns, attempting to figure it all out from everything that you’ve told them so far.

“Oh, I never said there was only one.” You hum, a teasing quirk to your lips. “Oh no, one of you was very adamant about wrecking me in the end.”

“You like multiple of us?” Yeosang’s lips part, ignoring the way his heart leaps hopefully in his chest.

“Of course I like more than one of you,” you giggle. “There are eight of you, after all. It’s quite hard for someone to choose only one. You’re all very beautiful men.”

Quirked eyebrows greet you all around, and your eyes seem to widen in embarrassment. The fact that they all smile at you giddily only makes it worse.

“Wait, please don’t think I’m super shallow and am only talking about your looks when I say that.” You’re quick to add. “Yes, I think you’re all handsome, but I mainly base my decisions on what is known about your personalities and what you show your fans.”

“You think I’m handsome?” Jongho’s eyes absolutely shine beneath the dim lighting of the venue, nothing but awe in his gaze as he looks at you.

“Of course I do.” You smile, and red begins to slowly creep up Jongho’s neck. “Beauty is also very subjective, so who I might find the most visually appealing might not be another person’s answer.”

“As long as you think I’m the most handsome, we shouldn’t have a problem.” A voice from the left side catches your attention, and you turn to see Johnny, Mark, and Yuta moving to sit beside you on the couch.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, John.” You grin, bowing your head politely in greeting to Yuta who smiles back.

“Every day I know you, you break my heart even more.” Johnny sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his chest as he falls backwards on the couch.

“I’ve known you for a day and a half, John.” You blink blankly, somewhat teasingly, causing laughter to erupt around you.

“You’ve only known Mark for that time, too!” He counters.

“Technically speaking, I’ve been talking with Mark for over eight months now.” You reply, fixing the skirt of your dress as you cross your one leg over the other beneath the material.

Yeosang’s eyebrow twitches, leaning forward slightly in his seat to see you better.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend!” Mark grins widely, puffing out his chest slightly as he looks at Johnny. Were it not for the cameras, Yeosang bets anything that the male would have slung an arm around your shoulders by now.

“Yeah, cause you won’t share her contact details with anyone else.” Johnny mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Mark! Right in front of your number one stan?” You gasp dramatically, extending your hand outwards and motioning towards Yuta.

“Normally, I would have to agree with you.” Yuta smirks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he looks at you. “However, I think I can make an exception for our favourite author.”

Your whole body freezes, eyes sparkling as you look towards Yuta. “Favourite author?”

“Yes.” Yuta nods once in confirmation. “And might I just say, you look divine.”

The way your breath hitches in your throat does not go unnoticed by any of them. The fact that you avert your gaze so bashfully while muttering out a small ‘thank you’ has Yeosang’s heart squeezing painfully in his chest. He can hardly prevent the way his lips purse the slightest bit, fingers digging into the skin of his thighs as he grounds himself to his spot for the moment.

Yeosang may not have fully understood what Yuta has just told you, but from the bits he picked up, he’s understood enough. Besides, the bashful way you respond says it all.

A second later, and you’re clearing your throat. “Wait, Mark won’t share my contact details with you? I told him it was fine when he first asked. I just didn’t bring it up again because I thought none of you were interested in talking with me. I didn’t want to push or come across as some weird, obsessed fan who was using connections to get what she wants.”

A pointed look is sent towards Mark by both Johnny and Yuta as the former male begins to shrink in his spot.

“Ah, so Markie Boy has been gatekeeping his pretty author friend this whole time.” Johnny hums, a tight smile pulling across his features.

“I think I need to reassess how much I stan Mark now,” Yuta adds, a teasing grin pulling on his features.

“I’m telling Ten!” Johnny jumps up from the couch, moving back off to where all of NCT is sitting. “And Taeyong! And Kun, and Chenle, and Renjun, and Jeno, and-“

His voice begins to fade as he walks away, but he continues to list off names, nonetheless.

“Get back here!” Mark immediately chases after him, though with the cameras around, it’s more of a speed walking competition as they head back to their own seats for the moment.

Your eyes widen, a snort of amusement escaping you as you watch Johnny slowly going around to each couch to inform the Neos about this recent discovery. Mark attempts in vain to stutter out excuses, but the moment Doyoung pulls him back down onto the couch beside him, it’s clear his efforts are futile.

“Didn’t realize how many Neos wanted to talk to me.” You mumble, turning back around to face the front with a soft smile on your face.

“I know for a fact that it’s more than just the Neos.” Yunho chuckles, motioning back towards both Stray Kids and Seventeen with his head. Two groups of which that sit off to the right of them all right now.

“I still can’t believe it,” you comment, somewhat breathlessly as your eyes are drawn back to the stage in front of you.

Yeosang wants to wipe that flirty smile right off of Yuta’s face as the elder male shifts closer to you on the couch. The second Yeosang sees Yuta take your hands in his own, Yeosang can feel his nails biting into the skin of his legs even harsher than before. Why does he so badly wish that were him?

More than all of that, why do you look so awestruck?

The words Yuta speaks to you are nothing but a loud ringing in Yeosang’s ears, only getting worse when he watches you smile and nod back enthusiastically. You reply something, but that damn white noise drowns everything out. He only wishes he could actually hear what’s being said, but before he knows it, the next performance is starting.

It’s just not fair.

Yeosang is forced to watch as you settle onto the couch with Yuta beside you, a large smile painting your features as you relax into your spot. He really wishes he could enjoy the music, just as you seem to be. Only, he finds that the dull ache of his heart demands to be felt.

Why, suddenly, is it so difficult for him to breathe?

#yandere yeosang #yandere ateez #yandere kpop #yandere au #ateez scenario #ateez imagines #yeosang scenarios #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez x reader #chubby reader #tall reader #kpop scenario #kpop imagines #kpop au

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lalachat · 6 months

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"And there you were..."

Author's note: I am starting to understand writers block... How does SJM and my fellow fic writers do this! This story was just a silly little thought i had in my head and now i'm writing thousands of words about it! My brain is running empty😭 But all of your love and support has made me want to keep writing! Luckily I popped some tunes on and one of my favorite songs came on! I encourage you to play it while you read this chapter because it what inspired it(hence the title)! It's called Banana Pancakes by Jack Johnson! But I have a couple of ideas to get more plot in this story, both dramatic and smut. For now just sit back and enjoy this short relaxing blerb before we start to kick the heat up a bit! LOVE YA😙

Summary: You and Lucien wake up slow and have a nice breakfast over banana pancakes.

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: the tension increases, flufffy fluff fluff, use of profanity, some typos

Word Count: ≈1,740, I’m sorry it’s not longer! I’ll make up for it later🫶

Chapter 3: "Banana Pancakes"

You were woken up by the sunlight peering in through Lucien’s bedroom window. However, you didn’t want to move. You looked up to see Lucien still peacefully asleep with his arms around you. You couldn’t help but smile at the male. His beauty was so unique compared to the others. Sure, Azriel was handsome, but Lucien was handsome in a different kind of way, and you loved him for it. After your conversations, you truly learned how much he was put through. No one recognizes his trauma or spares his problems a glance. He was put through just as much, if not more, as the others he’s surrounded by. You looked at the long scar on his face and frowned. How you wanted to take all the burdens he hides beneath the surface and put them on your shoulders. This male deserved so much better. Even after everything he has been through, he still puts himself last for anyone, especially Elain and Feyre. Hell, he was even here putting you first by offering you a comforting night. You don’t know how you survived without him as a friend the past couple of years. You are not letting him go again.

You decided to be bold and reach out to cup his face and trace your thumb across his scar. Why couldn’t the mother have blessed you with someone as caring as him? Instead, you got Azriel who doesn't even spare you a glance. How are you supposed to feel comfortable telling him he's your mate if he won't look at you? You sigh and keep tracing Lucien's scar. Your fingers start to travel from his scar, to tracing along his jaw, and through a couple strands of hair. Your eyes follow every move your hand made. Your fingers start to move to his lips before you stop. His lips... you wondered what they would feel like against yours again.

“Why did you stop?” You practically jump at the words as he looks up at you and smirks.

“FUCK ME! Lucien, you scared the crap out of me! Don’t do that!” you swat his bare chest playfully, and he chuckles. Oh my god... his morning voice. The deep scratchiness of his chuckle had heat wanting to spread throughout your body. Gods you wanted to hear it again.

“If the lady wishes, I will gladly fuck her, but how about some breakfast first?” he slowly started to get out of bed.

Did you just hear that correctly? Was he joking or was he being serious? Before you could finish your questioning thoughts Lucien sensed your concentration on the matter.

“Y/n I was just teasing you! Not about the breakfast part though, I am starving!”

“Oh... okay. It just threw me through a loop for a second.” you smile as you wave your hands around.

“my, my, my y/n... You seem a little disappointed.... OMG YOU WANT ME!” Lucien circled his finger around and booped your nose.

“Ugh, as if!” as you got out of bed and stood next to him. You reached your arms above your head and stretched out your body from sleeping all night. “Man, that was the best sleep I have gotten in a while.” You looked up and smiled at Lucien, but his eyes were glazed over.

While you were stretching you didn’t realize your shirt had come up a bit, giving Lucien a little show of your upper thighs. You looked at him again, “what?!”

He shook his head, “Its nothing, I also slept soundly. Now, how about some breakfast?” and smiled at you.

You followed Lucien to the kitchen. Eyes scanning over the muscles on his back, and gods, those slutty little gray sweatpants were not helping you stop your oogling.

You finally reach the kitchen, and he turns around to ask, “So what are we craving this morning?” Your brain went down the gutter when he asked that question and it caused a giggle to escape your mouth.

“What? What’s so funny about breakfast y/n? This is no joking matter!”

“Right! Sorry... how about some pancakes and fruit?”

“Sounds like a plan!” as he starts to grab all the ingredients and utensils you will need to make breakfast. “Would you like to cut the fruit while I start the batter?”

“Sure!” as you grab the cutting board, knife, and a couple of fruits. You saw Lucien had picked out bananas. You start peeling all the bananas and place them on the cutting board to start cutting. As you cut the bananas you help but to snag a couple of slices. You sneak a couple more in your hand and walk over to Lucien making the batter. “Open!” you demand as you point to his mouth. He looks at you mischievously and does as he's told, never stopping his mixing of the batter. You pop a couple of banana slices in his mouth and smile at him.

“Thank you,” he says with a mouth full of banana.

“Chew with your mouth closed Lucien, no one wants to see that.” You laugh. He swallows and dips his finger in the batter and turns towards you.

“Your turn!” you roll your eyes and open your mouth, only for Lucien to put it on your nose while chuckling.

“Lucien, are you kidding me right now?!”

“Sorry, I saw the opportunity and i took it. Here, let me help you.” he swipes the batter off your nose with his finger. You can feel his hot breath on your face, a hint of banana mixed in. “Open, for real this time. I promise.” Your brows furrow at him but you decide to trust him. You opened your mouth, and he placed the tip of his finger in letting you lick the batter off. You decided to get him back for all the teasing he’s done. You closed your eyes and moaned. Lucien’s body tensed at the sound as you sensually licked the rest of the batter off his finger and let it go with a pop.

“That’s really good Lucien!” You smiled at him, knowing this time you were the one teasing him. You grabbed another dollop on your finger and really played up the innocence roll as you started to lick it off your own finger. Lucien’s eyes follow your every movement.

“You are positively evil; you know that right?” he huffed and finished stirring the batter.

“I do not know what you are talking about, I was just trying the batter...” you smirked and walked back over to finish cutting the bananas. Soon the kitchen started to smell like pancakes, and you started to realize how hungry you were.

“Almost ready over here, did you get all the banana’s done?” Lucien asked as he flipped a pancake in the air.

“Sure did! Do you need me to do anything while you finish up flipping them?”

“You can set the table and I'll bring everything over.” You nod at his answer and start to set the table with two pairs plates, silverware, napkins, cups, and lastly your freshly cut bananas you put in a bowl. Just as you placed the bananas, Lucien was right behind you with a stack of pancakes.

“Oh, those look delicious! Do you have any syrup for the pancakes and juice to drink?”

“Yeah, go look in the fridge! I'll start setting our plates.” You walk over to the fridge and open it to grab the syrup along with a bottle of apple juice. You walk back to the table, place the syrup down, and look to see Lucien had made you and him both plates. You smiled.

“Thank you," as you decided to somewhat return the favor by filling up his glass with juice. You bend over slightly and pour the juice in his cup. Lucien's cheeks flush at the sight of you bent over, giving him a clear view of your cleavage due to how loose his shirt hung on you. He picks up his glass and takes a sip after you're done serving him.

He coughs and says, “Thank you.” Trying to hide the ever growing blush on his face.

“You’re welcome.” You walk back to your spot across him, pour you a glass of juice, and start cutting into your food. You both sat there and enjoyed breakfast. Casually giving each other compliments about the food. You swear after this morning you had a new favorite breakfast food, banana pancakes. They will always remind you of this past night and morning with your friend. You smiled at Lucien as you both had finished. “That was lovely!”

“Yes, it was, we should do this more often. I have missed you.”

“Awe, ladies and gentlemales, the Lucien Vanserra missed y/n y/l/n!”

“Way to ruin the moment y/n,” Lucien said with an eyeroll, and you chuckled.

“You know I miss you too Lu, but I should probably get going. I’m sure mother Rhys is worried sick about me.” You laughed.

“Most likely, here let me get you a bag for your dress and a pair of pants.” He walks away to get them for you. He comes back not a moment later with a bag and a baggy pair of old pants “Those should fit you! I believe you left them at my place a long time ago!” your cheeks burn at the thought of why you left them. One of your previous little rendezvous nights.

“Oh my god I have been looking for these for so long! Thank you.” you say as you took both items from his hands. You place your dress in the bag and walk to the bathroom to put your old pants on. You can’t believe he has kept them all this time. He could have easily tossed them out but didn't. "That's sweet of him," you thought. You walk back out and grab everything you came with and turn towards Lucien waiting for you by the door.

“Thank you for everything you have done for me, it means a lot. I will give your shirt back the next time I see you.” You smile at him.

“Keep it, it looks better on you anyways,” he winks, “I will see you next time then?”

“Till next time Lu!” You smile as you give him a hug. He wraps his arms around you and places his chin on the top of your head.

“Till next time doll!” as he places a soft kiss atop your head. You both let go and wave at each other as you make your way back to the Town House knowing an anxiety driven Rhysand and an overly excited Mor await you.

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loslentesdepedrito · 8 months

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I'm Your Wife- Chapter Four

Top right gif by: @pedrohub, bottom left gif by: @pedroispunk

Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)

Previous Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Three

Next Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Five

Word count: 5.0k+

A/N: This time of year is always hard on me, and I don't know why I didn't factor that into my uploading schedule. I decided to cut the chapters short to prolong the series, so there are still a few chapters left. Thank you to everyone for their patience, and I hope you enjoy this part!

Chapter summary: Javi confronts Jack, and in the aftermath, Jack bonds with Ángel. (Picks up directly from ch. 3)

Rating: 18+ no explicit content but this is an 18+ page. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut, but if you don't want to read them, the story starts after the Whiskey bottles.

Warnings: Angst (less than the last few chapters), language used by the characters is harsh and contains strong emotions, pregnancy, divorce, and childhood disease.

“Oh, I didn’t know you remarried. Again. Because surely you’re not talking about my girl.” Javi said with his jaw clenched. “She’s not your wife anymore, Jack. She’s my wife.”

"Well, I thought 'the mother of my son who I was married to and is the love of my life' was too long to say. Because I was married to her, bud," Jack countered. His voice, while tinted with pride, carried an undercurrent of sadness. It was as though he was grasping for a sliver of the life he had lost.

But Javi wasn't about to let Jack's words undermine his place in your life and Ángel's. He interjected forcefully, his frustration evident in every word. "Mira, Cabron," (Look, asshole,) he told Jack, "Keyword, was. You were married to her. Not anymore. She's my wife. She's the love of my life, and I am the love of her life. She's the mother of my children. I was there for the OB appointments. I was there for Ángel's birth. I was there for everything. Ángel is also my son, and I get that you want to be there for him now.” Javier uses his hands to point at himself every time he emphasizes a word. “But remember that you wanted nothing to do with him. You told her you wanted her to get rid of him! Forgive me if I don't fully believe you're as committed to being in Ángel's life as you say you are. I won't let you hurt her again, and I certainly won't let you hurt my son."

Jack's face contorted with a mix of frustration and desperation as he struggled to regain ground. "You might have been there for all that, but I've changed. I want to be here now, for Ángel and for her."

Javier's gaze remained unwavering, his jaw clenched in determination. "Changed? Jack, do you even realize how much pain you caused her?" His voice dripped with reproach. "You left her alone when she needed you the most,” Javier puts one hand on his hip and uses the other to motion, “and now you waltz back in here, thinking you can just pick up where you left off. It doesn't work like that."

Jack's fists clenched, his temper flaring. "I know I messed up. I can't change the past, but I can try to make it right now."

Javier takes a step closer and shoves a finger into Jack’s chest, his tone ice-cold. "Make it right? You can't erase the years you missed, the tears she shed, or the heartache you caused. And you sure as hell can't take my place now."

Javier's voice grew firmer, more assertive, as he continued, "You can't pretend like everything is all sunshine and rainbows. You need to start looking at me like Ángel's father and her husband."

“He’s my son!” Jack bursts. “I'm not letting you replace me in his life.”

Javier didn't back down. Instead, he leaned even closer, their faces mere inches apart. "I'm not replacing you, Jack. I'm the one who's been here for him all along, loving him and caring for him when you were nowhere to be found. And I'll be damned if I let you come back into their lives and disrupt what we've built."

“A father doesn’t abandon their child before they’re even born. In all those years, you never looked for him,” Javi's voice carried deep disappointment, the kind that had festered over time.

Even though it was difficult, Javier tried to let go of his anger. “I get you want to be his dad now, but that’s going to take time. I’m not saying you’ll never be his dad, but I will always be his dad, Jack. I know we don’t have the same blood, but he’s my son. You need to learn and accept that. Maybe he’ll call us both dad one day, but stop interjecting yourself into her life. What you two had is over. You can’t be the family you want anymore.”

Deep down, Javier knew that Jack was also his son’s father, and he wasn't willing to waste more time arguing that point. However, he needed to clarify to Jack that he couldn't just play house with you. Javier told Jack he wasn’t Ángel's father primarily out of anger. He knew he shouldn’t let his emotions get the best of him, but seeing Jack pretend to be the one you were building a family with, as if he hadn't abandoned you, was infuriating beyond words. Both of you had agreed that if Jack wanted to be in Ángel's life, he could. It just hurt Javier deeply to share his son, especially when it could result in Ángel being hurt by Jack. But if Jack was honest about his intentions, this could result in Ángel being loved by more than two parents, and Javier wasn't willing to steal that from his son.

Jack took in Javier’s words and instead of understanding why he was so protective, his temper flared in the face of Javier's unyielding stance. He couldn't deny the truth in Javier's words, and that only stoked the burning frustration within him. "You've got it all figured out, don't ya?" Jack's voice was overtaken with resentment as he spoke. "You waltz in here, take my place like it's no big deal, and now you're the king of this castle?"

Javier's eyes bore into Jack's, an unspoken determination in his gaze. "I didn't waltz in, Jack. I walked in when you walked out. I filled a void you left behind. I didn't choose to be the king; I just chose to stand by her side when you chose not to."

Jack felt like a caged animal, his anger mixing with a bitter sense of regret. "I messed up, alright? But I'm back now. You think you can just replace me?"

Javier's voice remained steady, though his anger simmered again just beneath the surface. "I'm not trying to replace you, Jack. I'm trying to protect them from being hurt by you again. It's not just about you anymore; it's about them."

Jack's fists clenched as he fought to regain some semblance of control. "I love her, and I love Ángel. I want to make things right."

"Desgraciado," (shameless) Javier muttered under his breath, choosing to ignore Jack's blatant profession of love for his wife. "Love is more than just words, Jack. It's actions. It's being there when you're needed, not just when it's convenient for you. It's about accepting that you hurt them deeply and that they might need time to heal. Ángel doesn’t know about you, but what do you think he’ll think once he finds out the truth? No kid wants to hear that his dad didn’t want anything to do with them."

Jack struggled with his emotions, the weight of his past mistakes heavy on his shoulders. "I- I know I can't erase the past, but I'll do whatever it takes to build a future with them."

Javier took a step back, his face still stern but less confrontational. "Then prove it, Jack. Actions speak louder than words. Show them you've changed, not just with what you say, but with what you do."

Jack's shoulders slumped, and he looked down momentarily, grappling with his emotions. It was a difficult pill to swallow, facing the consequences of his past actions. "You're right, Javier. I can't change what I've done, and I can't expect things to go back to the way they were." He admitted, "I know I've hurt both of them deeply, especially her. I'll respect your place in their lives, but I want a chance to be there for Ángel too."

Javier nodded, his expression softening a fraction. "I'm not saying you can't be a part of Ángel's life, Jack. But it has to be on their terms, at their pace. And it has to be with the understanding that we're a family now."

Jack swallowed hard, finally starting to accept the reality of the situation. "I get it. I won't push. I just want a chance to prove that I can be a better father to Ángel." He didn't say anything about your family not including him; he wanted to, but he knew it would be futile.

Javier extended a hand towards Jack. "Then we have an understanding. It won't be easy, but if you're serious about making amends and being there for him, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."

Jack stared at your husband’s hand for a while before he shook Javier's hand firmly.

The two men made their way back to room 43 in uneasy silence, their faces carefully composed as if they hadn’t almost ripped each other apart not even ten minutes ago.

When they walk through the door, you immediately sense that something happened. You knew your husband too well and felt he had little interest in helping Jack, so you had been concerned when Javi insisted on helping Jack with the towels.

Javier gracefully moves to you, kisses the top of your head, and then sits next to you. His hand finds its place on your stomach, a subtle yet affectionate touch. Jack, however, lingers awkwardly, towels in hand, as he takes in the scene before him. Seeing Javier so close to you stirred a storm of emotions within him, and it took a moment for his jumbled thoughts to come together. When he finally came to, he stored the towels in the maple wardrobe, and he retook his seat beside Ángel. To an outsider, it might have seemed as though nothing unusual had occurred, but the atmosphere remained charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You didn't get a chance to express your gratitude to Jack before he gently resumed his conversation with your son.

They were chatting about Jack’s ranch and Ángel was practically creating an itinerary for the visit.

"Mr. Jack, do you have horses on your ranch?" Ángel asked, his eyes shining with curiosity. His innocence was a welcomed breather from the tension in the room moments ago.

Jack, who had been caught slightly off guard by the sudden question, managed a warm smile. "Yes, we do, buddy. We've got some of the finest horses you'll ever see."

To prove his point and perhaps bond with his son over their shared love for horses, Jack reaches into his pants pocket. As his fingers curled around an object, your heartbeat raced. It was unmistakable – the small, black phone, a Motorola in all its glory. For a split second, a flood of emotions surged within you. Why did he still have it? Your mind wrestles with the significance of this unexpected memory he kept, but you quickly push the thoughts aside.

Ángel, his curiosity piqued by the sight of the odd phone, couldn't help but voice his surprise, his brows arching in unbelief. "Uh… Is that your phone?" He stares as he takes in the object he’s never seen before. The phone’s body was primarily matte black, with a reflective silver border and a letter ‘M’ in the middle.

Jack noticed Ángel's expression and furrowed his brows in concern, his lips beneath his mustache forming a subtle pout. "Something wrong?" He asked, worried that he might have inadvertently upset him.

Ángel, quick to reassure Jack, shook his head. "No," he replied, his head moving somewhat furiously, "It's just that I've never seen a phone like that before."

With a fond smile, Jack replied, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "This, buddy," he began, holding up the phone, "is a Motorola Razr V3. It's not like the fancy ones you see nowadays." He opened the phone with a satisfying snap, showing off the small screen and metallic keypad. As he continued, Jack's eyes seemed to shimmer with memories of a different time. "Back in the day, this phone was all the rage.” He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the chance to share a piece of his past with Ángel.

“Cool!” Ángel exclaimed.

"Very.” Jack agreed. “It might not have all the apps modern phones do, but it sure serves me well. Look, I even have pictures of the horses here.” He tapped a button on his old phone, and his fingers were a bit too big but he had years of practice to not accidentally click other things. He opens the camera roll. The phone, although dated, was still functional. He scrolled up until he found the best photos and moved the phone closer to Ángel. As he scrolled through the photos, he couldn't help but notice Ángel leaning in closer, his eyes glued to the small screen. Jack knew these images might appear grainy and outdated to a young boy, but the fact that Ángel showed genuine interest warmed his heart.

Jack carefully selected a handful of the best photos, ones that showcased the beauty and spirit of the horses. He moved the phone closer to Ángel, allowing the boy to take the pictures at his own pace.

In the first picture, Jack shared an image of a dusty gray pony, its gentle eyes looking out from a stable stall, bathed in warm sunlight that filtered through the wooden slats. "This one is Bubbles. He’s a Shetland pony." Jack explained with a fond smile.

"Wow, he looks so soft." Ángel remarked, his eyes glued to the picture.

Jack nodded. "Oh, he's the softest. Loves being petted and brushed."

In the next photo, a golden chestnut horse galloped freely across a lush, green pasture, its mane billowing with the wind. Jack's voice was filled with quiet excitement as he narrated the picture. "And here's Bullseye, she's got a lot of energy, and loves to run around. She’s an Akhal-Teke, and the speed demon of the bunch."

Ángel laughed at the thought of a speedy mare and the sound warmed Jack's heart.

But as soon as Jack swiped to the third picture, it elicited a gasp of awe from Ángel. In that image, a striking black Andalusian horse stood tall against a backdrop of hills. Its glossy coat seemed to absorb the sunlight, giving the horse a beautiful shine. Ángel's brown eyes widened as he took in the creature, captivated by its beauty and strength.

Jack couldn't help but smile at Ángel's reaction. "That's Andor," he said, his voice holding a hint of pride. "He's the most majestic horse on the ranch, the true definition of a stallion. We'll make sure you get to meet all of them when you visit."

Ángel's excitement bubbled over as he delved into his vision for their ranch visit. He continued to rattle off a list of activities, his imagination running wild with possibilities. "Maybe we can play with the horses, Mr. Jack! And feed them apples! Wait, do they actually eat apples? And... and,” His voice trailed off briefly as if a lightbulb went off in his head. “Oh my God! How many horses do you have?" Ángel's eyes sparkled with excitement, his curiosity genuine.

"Lots of horses. More than these three,” He shook his phone. “Big ones, small ones, all sorts of them. Would you like to ride one?"

Ángel's eyes widened, and he practically bounced in his hospital bed. "Can I, Daddy? Mommy? Please!"

Javier chuckled at Ángel's excitement and nodded in agreement. "Of course, Ángel. I'm sure Jack can teach you how to ride safely."

“Can I ride Andor?” Ángel asked, his excitement apparent.

Jack paused for a moment, considering. He knew Andor was a spirited horse and perhaps not the best choice for Ángel's first ride. "It'll take a while to ride that one. How about we start with Bubbles?" Jack suggested, his voice gentle and reassuring.

Ángel thought it over, a slight frown forming as he passed his tongue over his cheek. His brows furrowed in contemplation, and then a cute, hopeful, and bright smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Can I ride Andor eventually?"

At this moment, Jack knew there was little his son could ask for that he wouldn’t immediately hand over. However, he understood it wasn't his place to make decisions about Ángel's life. After a brief moment of hesitation, he replied, “Eventually. If your… parents agree.” It stung to refer to Javi as his son’s parent, but a big part of him reminded him that he had brought this on himself.

You chimed in with a warm smile. "We'll discuss it when the time comes, Ángel. If it's something you really want to do, and it's safe, we'll certainly consider it."

His eyes dimmed slightly in momentary disappointment. But the resilient spark in his eyes quickly returned as he nodded and said, "Muy bien.” (very well)

Jack, sensing Ángel's momentary letdown, decided to distract him. "Speaking of horses," he began, "would you like to hear a funny story about another one?"

Ángel's curiosity was instantly piqued, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, please!"

With a twinkle in his eye, Jack leaned in closer. "Now, Ángel, let me tell you about Randy, the sneakiest horse you'll ever meet. One sunny morning, just like today, Randy decided he was tired of the usual hay and grains. He had his eye on something sweeter."

Wide-eyed and intrigued, Ángel leaned closer. "What did he want, Mr. Jack?"

"Apples, my boy! The juiciest, crunchiest apples you could imagine. So while having his roaming time, he jumped a fence that was under construction and onto the Apple orchard."

Giggles escaped Ángel's lips. "He snuck into the orchard?"

Jack nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, he sure did. And there he was, surrounded by my apple trees loaded with ripe, red apples. I woulda been fine if Randy ate a few, but he was a bit of a greedy horse."

Ángel's eyes widened with anticipation. "What did he do?"

Chuckling softly, Jack continued, "Well, instead of just taking one apple, like any sensible horse would, Randy went from tree to tree, until he'd eaten all but two apples!"

Your son’s laughter filled the room. "Almost all of them?"

Jack nodded, his voice filled with mirth. "Almost! And when the ranch hands found him, only one tree had two apples left. In his defense though, there weren’t many apples on the trees. Everyone had a good laugh once the vet was called.”

Clapping his hands with delight, Ángel exclaimed, "That's a funny story, Mr. Jack!"

Smiling from ear to ear, Jack replied, "It sure is, Ángel. And when you visit, you can meet Randy. He's much better behaved now. "

“I’m glad Randy didn’t get sick.” Ángel said with a thoughtful look. Before Jack could respond, a shadow of sadness crossed Ángel's face, and he shifted the topic, his voice growing quieter. "Did you know horses don't throw up?" He asked Jack, his brown eyes focused intently. "I wish I were part horse; then, my food and medicine wouldn't make me throw up."

Everyone was silent for a while not knowing what to say. Your heart ached for your son, and you wanted to say something that would bring him comfort—racking your brain thinking how to do so. You get up from your seat and gently reach out, placing your hand on Ángel's. "Sweetie," you began softly, "I know it's tough, and we're so proud of how strong you are. Being part horse might sound fun, but you're our incredible, amazing boy just the way you are. And you know what? Horses can't have all the fun things you have. They can't watch your favorite movies or they can’t have dairy so no ice cream." You managed a smile, hoping to reassure him.

Javier chimed in, his voice full of love and support. "That's right, mi niño (my boy). We love you just the way you are. I promise you we’re doing everything we can so you won’t be here for much longer."

"Ángel," he began, leaning in closer to the young boy, "I want you to know something really, really important." Jack's voice carried a warmth and sincerity that was impossible to miss. "You are an incredibly special kid. You've shown so much strength, more than most people could ever imagine." His eyes locked onto Ángel's, filled with admiration.

Jack's smile was encouraging, like a reassuring hand on Ángel's shoulder. "You're brave, Ángel. So, so brave. And I'm not just sayin’ that. I mean it from the bottom of my heart. You've been through a lot, but you keep going, and that's something truly amazing."

With a gentle and affectionate pat on Ángel's hand, Jack continued, "Hang on, okay? We’ll get you outta this hospital as soon as we can. And then, we're gonna have so much fun together at the movies, ranch, and anything you want." Jack's words were filled with genuine enthusiasm, meant to uplift Ángel's spirits.

Ángel's eyes brightened at the sincerity in Jack's words. He absorbed the praise like a sponge, his tiny chest puffing out with pride. His eyes moved from one loving face to another, absorbing their words like a lifeline. Though still tinged with sadness, his voice held a touch of hope as he replied, "Los amo mami y papi." (I love you, Mommy and Daddy)

A shy but radiant smile spread across his face as he looked up at Jack. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. "I'll be brave, just like you said, Mr. Jack."

Jack patted Ángel's head affectionately. "No need to thank me, buddy."

Tears of love and pride welled up in your eyes as you leaned in to kiss his forehead. "We love you too, papito (baby), more than anything in the world."

A soft knock resonated throughout the room, and Javier called out for the person to come in.

The door swung open, and Ruth, Ángel's morning nurse, entered with her scrubs adorned with colorful teddy bears.

"Good mornin’,” She greeted with a kind smile. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

Ángel, his eyes still shining with the love and reassurance from his parents and Jack offered a small but genuine smile to the Nurse. "No, it's okay," he replied softly. "We were just talking."

"Great! Then are you okay with me taking you downstairs for some tests?" she said gently. Then, she turned to you and Javier, asking, "Mom, Dad, is now a good time? Y’all are welcome to come with."

"Yes, now is fine," you agreed, your voice laced with gratitude. "We'll come along with him. Thank you for letting us be there."

Javier echoed your sentiments, "Absolutely, we want to be with him."

Jack stepped away from Ángel’s bed when he saw the nurse had a wheelchair with her.

Nurse Ruth smiled kindly at your willingness to accompany Ángel and your words of gratitude. "Of course, it's important for families to be together during these times. I'll make sure Ángel's as comfortable as possible during the tests. Let's get everything set up, shall we?"

"Alright, Ángel," Nurse Ruth said gently, "I'll just adjust your IV pole here so it can move along with you." She carefully disconnected his IV from its stand and secured the IV pole to the wheelchair, making sure it was stable and within easy reach.

As she prepared Ángel for the wheelchair, you leaned over and smoothed out his hospital gown to ensure it was comfortable and wouldn't catch on anything.

Javier took charge of folding up Ángel's favorite blanket, his movements gentle and precise. He placed it neatly over the backrest of the wheelchair, creating a cushioned spot for his son to sit on.

Ángel carefully positioned his hospital-clad feet on the chair's pedals, making sure the baby blue sock with grips was securely in place.

It was all a practiced routine that was mastered a few days after Ángel’s admission.

The Nurse smiled at the collaborative effort. "You're a great team." she complimented before gently moving the wheelchair toward the door.

You noticed Jack standing at the side awkwardly, and you could see how intently he stared at your son- as if he was memorizing every move he made. Sensing his desire for a proper goodbye, you decided to give them a moment.

"Nurse Ruth, if it's alright, could we have a few moments to say goodbye to our guest? We'll catch up with you in just a bit."

She nodded understandingly and stepped out into the hallway, leaving you, Javier, Ángel, and Jack together in the room.

You turned to your son and asked, "Ángel, how do you feel about Jack coming back to see you?"

Ángel, a mix of emotions dancing in his young eyes, replied, "He's nice, mami (mommy). I like him." He then turned his gaze to Jack and smiled warmly. "I hope you come back soon."

Jack, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he would have to leave his son behind, crouched down to Ángel's eye level. He spoke gently, his voice filled with both longing and love. "I hope so too, buddy. I'll be thinking about you all the time."

Ángel, not fully grasping the complexities of the situation but feeling the genuine care in Jack's words, extended his small hand toward him. "See you soon, Mr. Jack."

Jack took Ángel's tiny hand in his, fighting back the tears that threatened to surface. "See you soon, Ángel. Take care, alright?"

As Jack reluctantly released Ángel's hand, his eyes held a mixture of pain and hope. He knew he had to leave for now, but he also knew he would see him again.

You watched as Javier and Ángel made their way out of the room to Nurse Ruth. Javier recognized the look in your eyes and understood that you wanted to speak with Jack privately. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, whispering, "We'll see you soon."

You returned the kiss and nodded. Once they were out of sight, Jack turned to you.

“Can I have your phone number?" he asked quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I don't want to keep talking through Raul." Jack had grown tired of the impersonal nature of communicating through your lawyer; it felt like a barrier between him, you, and his son, and he hated it.

You understood the sentiment behind his request, and despite the complexities of your history, you could sense his genuine desire to be more present in Ángel's life.

“Give me your phone.” You extended your hand, prompting him to quickly hand over his Motorola. As you took the phone, you forgot that you’d seen it earlier and once again the memories of your past life together briefly flickered through your mind.

“Your phone… it’s still-“

Jack interrupted, “The same. Yeah. And it’s my same number, so…”

“Oh,” you said in a flat tone, not letting your emotions show too much. “Uh… at least it still works,” you said, almost ignoring the fact that he didn’t change his phone number after the divorce, unlike you. “When you were showing it off to Ángel, I thought it was going to fall apart.” You laughed, and everything in that moment made Jack’s heart race.

Jack joined in the laughter. "It's a tough old thing, but it's been with me through a lot," he admitted, his gaze briefly distant as if he was reminiscing. But he didn’t reveal the reason why he kept his phone after so many years.

“So you’ve got ranch money now?” You asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from the emotional minefield that lay between you two.

“Yeah, I got promoted,” he replied.

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding, masking the mixed emotions swirling within you. “That’s… that’s good.”

Jack wanted to stay in that moment with you, but you, on the other hand, felt like you couldn’t be there any longer. But before you left, you wanted to give him something.

You opened your small purse and pulled out a picture. It was a snapshot of Ángel when he was four years old. The image captured a family trip on a snowy day, and Ángel was bundled up in a fluffy red jacket with the cutest red and blue knitted hat.

Jack noticed the picture in your hand, and he couldn't tear his eyes off it. You handed him the small Polaroid and said, “Keep it. I have more at my house.”

My house. Echoed through Jack’s mind. Not our house. It was a stark reminder that the life he once shared with you and Ángel had irrevocably changed.

He raised his head to look at you, his face mirroring the same expression Ángel had given multiple times – brows furrowed, lips turned down in a mixture of confusion and sadness.

"Thank you." Jack finally replied, his voice on the verge of cracking.

You nodded in acknowledgment and said, “I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“If… if I’m not a match, we’ll figure something out, I prom-” Jack stammered. He realized you probably wouldn’t believe his promises, so he chose his words carefully. “I know so.”

“Thanks,” you replied, your tone tinged with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty.

Then, Jack's expression shifted to one of concern. “Oh, wait, his insurance, do you and…” He hesitated before mentioning your husband's name as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “J-Javier have to pay for anything?”

“No. His insurance covers everything, thankfully.” You reassured him, relieved that, at least in this difficult situation, financial concerns weren't adding to the burden.

Jack, visibly relieved to hear that financial worries wouldn't add to the stress, spoke up, his voice carrying a sense of sincerity. "I'd be more than happy to cover any of his expenses now and in the future."

You offered a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you, Jack. We'll talk about it later, alright? Right now, I have to go catch up with them. Take care. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, you turned and headed for the door, leaving Jack to his thoughts, the Polaroid picture of a young Ángel clutched tightly in his hand. A heavy ache settled in his chest, a feeling of pain that was almost unbearable. It felt like a part of him had stayed with you and Ángel, and he couldn't shake the sense of loss that washed over him.

Time seemed to blur as he stood there. Eventually, he snapped back to reality and pulled his phone out. With trembling fingers, he dialed a familiar number as he made his way out of the hospital.

Extended note: Thank you for reading! Please feel free to comment and reblog! I truly do love reading them! I promise I'll try to engage more!

Taglist: @kchavez666 @ttupelohoneyy @mishasminion360 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @stileslvr

If you're feeling angsty, maybe you'd like to read a heartbreaking story featuring Joel Miller- Que Vuelva (Hoy me muero yo).

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chubsonthemoon · 1 year

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GUESS WHOSE BOOK ARRIVED TODAYYYYYY SO NOW I GET TO POST PICS!!!!

This is To Hell and Back Again, by dear dear @perexcri. Cover design by @byierficrecs (thank you SO much for letting me use your design!). Binding by me!

I'm not in ST fandom, but I had the pleasure of skimming this fic while I was typesetting, and can I just say? I'm rooting for these kids SO hard. I'd go to hell and back again for them--[GUNSHOT]

But in all seriousness, Leah's writing is whip-smart, sincere, and funny as hell. I cannot recommend it enough to anyone who is a fan of these crazy kids. Her ao3 is a veritable treasure trove of excellent byler stories, which you should absolutely check out right now go do it!!!

As usual, process chatter and more pics, under the cut! <3

WORD COUNT: 144k

FONTS:

Title: Hellprint

Heading/Chapter Headings/Spine Titling: Norwester

C4 Summary: Roboto Condensed

Main Body Text: Garamond

COVER MATERIAL: Epson Premium Presentation Paper Matte, printed on my Epson Ecotank (more on that later baha)

HEADBANDS: Trebizond silk thread in the colors Garnet and Black

EDGE PAINTING: Acrylic paint in Crimson and Black

TITLING: Red iron-on foil for the text and white HTV for my maker's mark. Cut by Charlotte, my Cricut!

BINDING:

This was my first go at a German Bradel binding! I've seen lots of Renegade folks use this method and am so psyched I got around to trying it myself. I modified DAS's approach a bit and tipped on endpapers instead of sewing them in (there were a lot of new things to learn so I decided to shelve sewn endpapers for the next binding XD). I also only had 2.0 mm bookboard instead of 1.0 mm, so instead of layering two of the same boards like DAS did, I instead used one 2.0 mm board and one very thin piece of cardboard to create the groove for the hinge. The original article that DAS bases his video on actually uses boards of two different sizes too--a "thick" board and a "thin" board--but I still want to experiment with DAS's way of doing it, especially since I think it'll be easier to do cutouts on thinner board.

As far as matching the groove with the hinge, I think I did pretty okay for my first try! One board is definitely better fitting than the other though baha. There's always room for improvement, but hey that's where half the fun is anyway (and also you can't tell after the case-in whew), so I'm not stressed about it :D

COLOR SCHEME:

Nearly all of my design decisions for the color scheme were based off of @byierficrecs's gorgeous cover design! They were so generous in letting me use their cover and answering my questions about fonts, for which I can't thank them enough. And with so many wonderful elements to work with, it was so much fun to tease out the elements I loved from their work!

I decided to keep with the theme of red/black, which I also thought was fitting for a ST fic set largely in the Upside Down. Thus, black painted edges with red vines, as a kind of inverted, "upside down" continuation of the cover:

Even the thread I used to sew the signatures is red/black! :3 (please also ignore how the picture of the textblock is not focused on the actual textblock ajsldkfjs it was very late when I took that photo)

COVER PRINTING:

This was my first time printing a cover on my new printer (!!!), and BOY oh boy was it an adventure. Figuring out the dimensions took a second, but not as long as it took me to figure out what settings produced something I was happy with. Behold, all my test prints:

Very long story short, let's just say now I understand why being a prepress color specialist is literally a career you can have in publishing LOL.

Also, for some reason I could only sometimes get the bleed to work? Basically what I ended up doing was painting over the parts where the design didn't quite extend over the turn-ins, using with the same black acrylic paint I used for the edges. You can see this more clearly in the photos I took of the groove, and the endpapers covered the messy bits when I cased in:

THE MAIN INGREDIENT: LOVE

Finally!! The most important part of the process!!! HI LEAH ILY!!!! This fic is special for a lot of personal reasons, but chief among them is LOVE!!!! Your A/N's made me tear up when I first read it, because AH! You read my words of love!!! And went and wrote hundreds of thousands of your own words of love!!! And now I hope I've given that love back once again :3 And on and on we go, ad infinitum, until we are relieved of the curse of literacy and greet whatever comes after all this, thanks be to Todd. But until then, I'm so glad I get to shoot holes out of bagels and scream about radioactive tumblr posts and cry over fake people with you, friend :] Truly, peace and love on FUCKING Planet Earth. We are making it and we will all go together when we--[ANOTHER GUNSHOT]

I'm so excited to see where we're going, and what other stories we have to tell. But for now: EEEEEEEE YOU WROTE A BOOK!!!!!!!

<33333!!!

#Stranger Things #Byler #bookbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #To Hell and Back Again #perexcri #friend fic!#<333

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tavyliasin · 3 months

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Tricks and Treats in the House of Hope - An ATG Side Story, Halloween Special

Haarlep hosts a party with a number of surprises...

Pairing: Astarion/Halsin/Tav/Haarlep/Raphael SPICE Rating: 6/5 Content Warnings: Sex, Bondage, Double Penetration, Oral Sex, Biting, Blood, Vampire Bite, Aphrodisiac (consenting), Costumes, Brat Taming, Orgy, Collar/Mild Pet Play,

Spoilers Act 3 House of Hope (Mild) Canon Compliance Not in the slightest this was purely for fun. Other Notes What was meant to be a short Halloween special turned into 5k words of a very hot orgy scene which I had far too much fun with! Mood/Music The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience, ORION, Linda XO "Orgiastic dances, Nymphs in trances, Yeah, we'll be the envy of the gods above. I'm feeling devious You're looking glamorous Let's get mischievious And polyamorous Wine and women and wonderful vices Welcome to the cult of Dionysus"

----- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT -----

Raphael moaned beneath the white sheet. By all accounts this was completely ridiculous, it barely even counted as a costume, but Haarlep had insisted ...

He had been made to keep his human form, brown eyes just visible through the roughly cut holes in the white cotton, the hint of his expression somewhere caught between pleading and anger. "You're not even-" he shuddered, keeping a tenuous hold on his composure, "in a costume, Harlot. "

"Of course I am, Archduke , do I usually carry a pitchfork?" The incubus let a sinister grin form upon their lips, with a hint of sharp teeth. They were in their usual harness, which had been embellished with a few ribbons and charms to count as being different . Their tail flickered swiftly, striking the "ghost" on the behind. "Good," they drawled seductively, "do keep *moaning* like that and I might give you a treat when we're home."

Beneath the "outfit" that covered him, Raphael was, of course, entirely naked. Well, except for the cruelly twisted ropes, and the various little devices that Haarlep had attached. The incubus made a slight motion with their hand and the intensity of the toy increased, drawing a prolonged groan from deep within the cambion.

"Oh this is such fun~ We should do this far more often." Haarlep grinned wickedly, tying the ornate masquerade mask over their face before pushing open the door to the ballroom. "Now, shall we have you greet your guests?" ---

“This isn’t…do we have to?” Tav looked over her shoulder, the muscular elf holding the other end of the chain attached to her collar. It was very…secure.

“You wished to attend the party, my heart, don’t you think you should dress the part?” He tugged the chain slightly, just enough so she could feel the pressure on her throat. “It’s not like I have a particularly comfortable outfit either, though. I would question Astarion’s taste, but he made quite the offer.” He pulled the chain wrapped around his other chain, earning a small moan from Tav’s left.

“Well,” the pale elf just about choked out, “perhaps I’m having some second thoughts about that.”

The three of them were making their way out to the House of Hope, the invitation was one they couldn’t really refuse. Halsin was dressed head to toe in fine silks, a gold edged mask secured over his eyes and forehead, adorned with sparkling jewels and feathers. The fine cloth was struggling to contain his large form, and he was clearly railing against the ruffled collar at his neck every time he moved. He channeled his irritation towards his partners, however, and had to cast mending on his lower clothing all too often as their reactions continued to rile him up.

Astarion was dressed like a cat, tail protruding from a hole in some rather short and tight leather leggings, leaving most of his legs exposed to the cool breeze. His upper body was still permitted a silk shirt, to cover his back, but the front was left far more open than usual. A little…overexcitement had torn it open when getting dressed, the slight mark of a bear claw on his chest. His collar, a little joke from the druid, read “Meowstarion”.

Tav, on the other hand, was dressed in what might have been called servant’s attire, if said servant worked exclusively for Haarlep. She was almost certain that this was who had sent the outfits for her and the vampire beside her. The collar was sturdy but covered in frills, her top revealing her entire bosom and a hint of the leather straps of the harness underneath. She fussed with the hem of her skirt, desperately wishing for it to at least reach the top of the stockings that rose up to her mid thigh.

“Oakfather preserve me, my heart, I believe I made myself clear already.” Halsin yanked her back to him, wrapping his arm around her throat and growling dangerously in her ear. “Your outfit will remain as it is. I want to feast upon you with my eyes, and if you are very lucky…” He left the sentence unfinished, instead running his tongue along the edge of her ear. “Now, behave. ”

Tav whimpered, the heat rising within her to an unbearable degree as she felt the druid’s outfit straining once more with the effort of keeping his excitement contained. She couldn’t resist the temptation. She rose up on her toes and rolled her hips to grind against him, relishing the gasp of heated breath against the back of her neck.

“Do not tempt me.” He warned, suddenly pushing her forwards again. “We do not want to be late.”

---

Haarlep grinned as they looked around at their soiree. It was hellishly divine, they had truly outdone themselves this year with the gifts they had sent out. Even the gith and the half elf were dancing together seductively, neither of their outfits leaving much to the imagination. When the doors opened next, they felt the frustration rise from the cambion “ghost” next to them. They manipulated their little toys again, pinching just a bit harder… “Did you have to invite all of them?” Raphael snarled through gritted teeth.

“Was I meant to leave your favourite client at home? Take a good look at her, Archduke , don’t you want to greet her?” Haarlep’s tail slid up the cambion’s leg, lighting up his nerves with fresh desires. “I can’t have them-” he gasped, the tip of Haarlep’s tail now threatening to join the toy that already filled him, “seeing me like this!” The incubus leaned in close to where his ear should be beneath the white sheet. “But they can’t see a single thing, not with this sheet here. Just keep up your ghostly moans, it’s very in character~” They laughed, an edge of cruelty in their voice as they withdrew their tail once more. The little whine of disappointment was the cherry on top of the delicious treat they were savouring. ---

“Is Haarlep even trying? I thought they’d come up with something inventive… And…Good gods is that Raphael in a sheet?!” Astarion could barely hold back the laugh, stopped only by Halsin looping a finger through his collar and growling in his ear. “We are guests here, Astarion, so remember to be a good pet or you will be taken out into the alley.” He punctuated the threat with a hand at the base of the “tail”, giving it just a little push and drinking in the moan like wine. Astarion didn’t seem to baulk at the threat in the slightest. Instead he leaned back, seductively reclining against the druid’s broad chest and tilting his head back to nibble along the edge of Halsin’s jaw. “If you want to take me outside, darling, all you need do is ask. I can think of plenty that we can do in a nice quiet spot-” “Control yourself,” Halsin groaned, finding it ever more difficult to follow his own order, “or you will be spending the night alone.” He gave the other man a short shove, quickly casting Mending on straining seams once again.

Tav felt a little jealous, or she did until Astarion collided with her back. His theatrical act of holding on to her to steady himself was fooling nobody, least of all Tav, but she let him anyway. She ached for the touch, and the firm grip on soft curves was almost as arousing as the whisper against her neck. “Keep riling him up, darling, and we will have quite the evening ahead of us. I do hope you weren’t planning on sleeping tonight. Or doing anything tomorrow.” He chuckled, taking just the smallest bite just beneath where her dress exposed her shoulder, quickly covering it up again to hide it from their lover. The incubus approached them, a swagger in their step and a grin on their face a mile wide. “I’m so very glad you could all make it, and don’t you look delicious ~” They were assessing each of the three in turn, sampling the flavours of arousal that were emanating from them even at several paces distance. “There will be time for the grand tour later, but perhaps you should get something to drink first? You do look so terribly thirsty.” Their look was more pointed than the claws they gestured with, a table laden with fine glasses waiting to be taken. Astarion gave the fare a sideways glance, before looking back at Haarlep. “That’s not some kind of rotten trickery again is it? I am dying - again - for a good wine right now.” Haarlep summoned a servant, ironically wearing more than the outfit that was barely covering Tav, who brought a tray of drinks across to them. “No devil trickery here, you are all more than valued guests tonight.” They took a glass and passed it to the almost silent spirit beside them. “Here, even your most gracious host will take a drink, right in front of you.” “Wait,” Tav butted in, calculating several different equations in her head to find the angle they were taking here. “I’ll choose the glass he drinks from, that way we know you haven’t planted one safe one amongst the others.” “Feeling bold today, are we?~” Haarlep crooned, laughing at the audacity of their guests. “That’s fine by me, each of these are the same. Although having you choose the Archduke’s fate, what an interesting thought.” Unseen behind cloth, they upped their wicked game again, giving a brief moment of further stimulation to the cambion. Raphael struggled to prevent his legs from quivering. If it weren’t for the tight ring at his base, the cotton sheet would need to be replaced already. He looked towards Haarlep, eyes almost watering. “The sheet.” He tried to keep the tough edge in his voice. “The costume ,” Haarlep corrected, “of course, I forgot to leave a hole for your mouth. How careless.” They pressed the fabric to the skin of his face and neck, one clawed hand gripping his chin and pulling the cotton tighter. Their other hand traced a lazy line to find the edge of his lips. “Ah, here you are.”

Raphael silently cursed under his breath as the incubus did exactly what they wanted, like they always did. Their claw cut a slit in the cotton in a smooth little line, just enough pressure to drag across his lip but not quite enough to draw blood. They brought their face closer, gazing deep into his eyes like a twisted mirror of all his darkest desire. He could smell the hot cinnamon and perfume, the soap he had massaged into their hair just hours earlier… When those infernal lips came just close enough to his own to feel the heat, yet still denying him the slightest physical touch, he nearly broke his veneer of calm to take the kiss he craved. Haarlep drew back, very satisfied with the helpless look in the eyes of the so-called “Master of the House”, lifting the glass to the newly torn hole. “Drink up, Archduke , taste the fruits of your labour, the treat that the Little Mouse chose just for you. ” He knew it wasn’t poison. That would be pointless, you don’t sacrifice the pieces from your own side of the board without very good reason and something much better to gain. But he also knew Haarlep was not playing idle games. No, the bitch was playing for keeps and loving every second. He caught the Little Mouse’s eyes, and drained the wine without pause. The temperature was both cooling and warming, and that hint of familiar flavour lingering on his lips confirmed his suspicions. It is going to be a long night, Little Mouse, you should have been more careful whose den you walked into.

Tav watched Raphael, or at least the sheet she assumed contained him, drink the wine in one leisurely motion as Haarlep poured it into his mouth. It was almost impossible to make out his expression, but he didn’t keel over. It would be difficult to know if he were simply immune to a poison that would kill her, but she couldn’t seem to find a reason why it might be dangerous. “The ghost isn’t dead,” Astarion said simply, stepping past her to take a glass from the tray, “so if the wine is safe for one undead then it’s safe enough for another. ” Despite his bold words, his first sip was tentative. “Wait.” Halsin commanded. “Like a cat, if you please, Meowstarion.” He tugged the vampire’s chain, encouraging him to face him again. “Meow~” Astarion returned Halsin’s intense gaze and began to lap at the wine, first almost comically with his tongue dipping in and out of the glass, but after a good few sips his motions became slower. Purposefully seductive. The heat was rising in him once again, and it showed both in the provocative way he drank the wine, and in the pink colour rising from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Tav was captivated momentarily, watching the indecent display. Her focus was broken by a clawed hand on her shoulder, the other reaching around her holding two glasses. Haarlep was close enough to feel their heat on her back, but did not touch her beyond the fingers just pressing on her shoulder enough to feel. “You should both have some too, you know. Slake your thirst, there’s plenty of time to enjoy the party.” The way they spoke should’ve been ringing alarm bells in her mind, but even just watching the way her partners were riling each other up was making her skimpy outfit feel like far too much clothing. Haarlep was not blind to any of this either, subtly inhaling the scent of arousal from the hint of sweat beading on her bare skin. They slid around her depositing the glasses in her hand almost without her noticing.

“Come.” Halsin commanded, almost too effectively as he gestured to Tav. She curled herself into his outstretched arm, leaning against his chest and cursing the layers of silks keeping her from the warmth of his bare body. He took the second glass from her hand, inviting her to watch their lover seduce them both now. Tav took a sip of her own drink, finding the flavour pleasantly fruity, with a slight hint of cinnamon and clove that would likely make some overpaid journalist write a full page about ages and barrels. “This is…good…” She muttered cautiously, feeling the delightful warmth seeping through her body, blossoming and spreading into- Oh, shit. She realised too late what the trick was. She could feel Halsin breathing more heavily behind her now, too, the effects of the incubus’s saliva disguised in the wine taking hold of all of them. She looked back at Raphael, wondering if she was imagining the sheet shivering…

Haarlep spread their wings, stretching out and allowing themselves a pleased little flutter. All around the ballroom, glasses were being drained. Even Tav, who had clearly worked out the ruse, continued to drink. I knew I liked you for a reason, Little Mouse, you step into my trap and continue to take the cheese.

—

The soiree had been decorated and laid out to Haarlep’s very specific instructions. Heavy velvet curtains had been hung strategically, disguising the entrances to side rooms laden with cushions, beds, and even…tools… One by one they began to fill, the curtains drawing closed, except from those who preferred an audience. Shadowheart and Lae’zel looked as if they were fighting as they disappeared through a curtain themselves, though it was anyone’s guess as to what methods they were like to use or who was likely to “win”. Haarlep enjoyed listening out to that one particularly, it was…unexpected. Somewhere in a dark corner, a tall human dressed in an intimidating outfit that barely tried to hide a tapestry of scars lead an elf with a white raven into a room which had been laid out with their very specific complement of instruments. That one was Haarlep’s very favourite little friend, and they could tell the man with tentacle tattoos around his eyes would be the perfect playmate for him. The music they would make… They could dance to it all night. Other couples and groups slowly left the ballroom, aside from one pair who were simply dancing. Haarlep wondered if they should intervene, encourage them to drink if they hadn’t yet, but seeing the fiery Tiefling dance with the horned gentleman was in its own way endearing. They were enraptured with each other, in a way the incubus no longer wished to interrupt. They had enough of a banquet already.

They turned back to their…plate? They had picked out their morsels with care, and seasoned them just perfectly. “Why don’t we all make ourselves more comfortable, follow me~”

—

Halsin dragged his two lovers behind him, admittedly curious about the incubus and feeling a desperate need that perhaps even two hot bodies would not be enough to sate. His nails dug into his palms as he gripped the chains, the seams in his clothes finally forgotten and coming undone as he marched them into the room behind the devil and the ghost. Raphael walked alongside Haarlep, just half a step behind them, struggling to walk straight. It was maddening, his home, even his body being used by the bastard strutting without a single care in the world. But he was too lust-drunk to protest, and he knew he would end the night satisfied one way or another. In some ways that was worse, knowing that Haarlep was right and usually were, too. Tav stared in wonder, the room was positively decadent, and yet there were so many hidden secrets. It wasn’t Haarlep and Raphael’s usual bedchamber, this place was…different. A pool still sat behind screens on the far side of the room, healing was clearly considered a necessity. Remembering her prior experiences, that was almost a relief. Haarlep gestured to the bed, winking to Halsin. “Make yourself at home, I just have one last loose end to tie up .” Raphael moaned as the gag was pressed against his lips. His arms had been bound beneath the sheet the entire time, he was completely unable to resist, not that he had any intention. He wouldn’t admit it, but he craved this. He needed it. The incubus was extremely good at everything they did. He gave them just one crumb of recognition, a hissed whisper before he bit down on the leather bar. “Fine, Haarlep, do as you wish.” “Oh, I planned to, Raphael.” The dropping of insulting pet names was as close to a declaration of affection as the two would ever get. There was no kindness in clawed red fingers that scraped against heated skin, drawing down the hooks from above and carefully securing them through tiny cuts made in the fabric.

Halsin wasn’t sure where to look. He stood on the opposite side of the bed to where the incubus was beginning to make the moaning ghost float in the air, suspended by carefully placed rope, the cotton sheet just barely revealing what was beneath as the spirit was fixed facing the bed. In Between them, however, were his two personal pets, crawling onto the sheets as he tugged their chains to direct them. Astarion’s bare chest looked delicious, and Tav…the blush on every area of her skin was just as enticing. With a quiet rip, more seams were obliterated silks giving way to tense muscles and tenser-

Halsin didn’t notice. He didn’t care. He only wanted one thing. Well, three things, if he was honest. The two lovers on the bed, and the incubus who turned to watch them with a smile, their tail flicking upwards to make the ghost moan once more.

“Drink.”

The command from the druid’s lips reached Astarion’s pointed ears like a drug more intoxicating than the aphrodisiac-spiked wine. He didn’t need a second word.

Tav leaned back automatically, reclining against the soft pillows and tilting her head to expose her neck. Astarion approached her on all fours, crawling as cat-like as he could, swishing his hips to move the tail behind him. He could feel the eyes on him, and he was ready to put on a show. He nuzzled into Tav’s neck, the bell on his collar jingling next to the tag, and ran his tongue slowly along the line of her veins. The noise caught in her throat was almost enough to drive him to a frenzy, and he bit hard, relishing the latest sound to spill from her lips as heated blood poured into his own.

Halsin frowned, the vampire might go too far if he did not remember to rein in his lust-parched thirst. Haarlep caught his eye and simply winked, an unspoken thought passing between the two.

Astarion broke his connection to Tav’s neck as the fiend’s tail curled around his forehead and eyes pulling him back and taking his vision. Behind him, he felt the tail of his costume moving, quickening his breath as the weight of the druid settled on the bed behind him.

“He told you to drink, little kitten, not to kill. The Rat is not to be emptied like your last meal.” Haarlep growled a slight warning, while stroking the elf’s silvered hair.

“I was fine,” Tav gasped, longing for the fangs to return with their incredible heat and the edge of pain that drove her wild every time, “I can handle being a little drained.”

“You will need your energy, Rat. You are dressed as a servant, perhaps it is time for you to serve.” Haarlep looked her in the eye, the searing gaze of the flames carrying several levels of meaning. “Druid, handle your animal.”

Halsin wrapped a strong arm around Astarion’s chest, holding him tight but firm as he pulled him down the bed, stopping as the vampire’s shoulders were just below Tav’s hips. “This time, drink nicely. Just like you did with the wine earlier.”

Astarion thought for a moment about disobeying, but the druid’s hand was already at his “tail” again, stirring it in a way that made him moan loudly even as he began to dip his tongue with swift flickering motions, tasting Tav like she was indeed his favourite drink. Which wouldn’t even be an inaccurate sentiment…

Meanwhile, Haarlep had mounted Tav’s chest, their knees pinning her shoulders and arms to her sides. They licked their finger and held it to her lips. “Show me. You can handle a little more, Rat, I know what you’re capable of.”

The feeling of her lover’s tongue made her mouth open anyway, her breath seeking a quicker exit from her body as her nerves lit up. Tav obeyed the incubus above her, wrapping her lips around their finger, savouring the slight heat and cinnamon, relishing in the feeling of the aphrodisiac effect heating her entire body like a hundred fires lit within her all at once. Still…the look on their face…it was too self-satisfied. She bit down on their knuckle, drawing just the smallest drop of blood that tasted like molten iron.

Haarlep laughed. Somewhere behind them, Raphael rolled his eyes. He knew that sound, he knew it all too well. The Mouse was pushing her luck…but at least this time, it would work in his favour. His own finger still felt warm, the slight edge of pain carrying across through Haarlep’s connection. Using his form like this…it was exciting.

Halsin watched his pet go to work on his other love, not caring much about what the incubus was doing. As long as neither of his hearts signalled their wish to stop, he would continue to indulge all of them. And he was so very intrigued by the huge red wings spread out before him and the long tail curling of its own accord.

Astarion wiggled his hips, an invitation to the man behind him, knowing his usual…preferences. He moaned a little, letting the vibrations of his voice move his tongue more as he continued to savour Tav’s warmth and the way she would writhe beneath him.

The invitation was clear to Halsin, but he hadn’t decided exactly what he wanted… The tail was clearly still stimulating, so that toy could remain in place, but he needed something… The idea sparked in his mind as he saw the incubus sliding their harness to one side. The druid shuffled, glad of the huge bed space they had, and rolled onto his back. He pulled himself up the bed so he was right beneath Astarion’s hips, and tore away all the clothing in the way of his prize with his teeth.

The vampire yelped, almost stopping his work, but a swift grip on his rear put him back to work. Halsin did not waste time either, taking the entire length between his lips and working his tongue in maddening patterns across every sensitive inch.

Tav was in a similar situation, faced with the perfect copy of Raphael’s cambion form. She grabbed Haarlep’s harness and pulled them close, almost choking as she took them too deep into her throat too fast. The sensation, however, was intense. She stubbornly kept going, delighting in the words of praise that rained down from above her, encouraging her to keep going. She was almost certain she heard a spirit whining pitifully somewhere off to the side, too, but her mind - and mouth - were too full to give it a second thought.

—

Raphael hung in the air, eyes fixed on the scene before him. All four of them were ravenous, insatiable, and Haarlep was feasting on their desire as well as his own. They looked at him again, a wicked smile curling across their features, and finally gave the quiet permission for him to transform.

Red wings wanted to spread behind him, but Haarlep had planned ahead. Slack rope that had sat around his shoulders was now taut around the wings, preventing them from doing anything more but helplessly struggle. The rest of the bindings had just enough give to account for the growth of his body, and the only thing left free was his tail. He flicked it in the air below him, the end the only part sticking out from beneath the sheet. He knew Haarlep would have no time for him, so he curled the tail up between his own legs and took a grip to mirror what the Little Mouse’s lips were doing, eyes fixed on her every motion.

—

Mouths, lips, tongues, they all danced in the night’s soiree. Haarlep conducted the infernal orchestra, feeling an intense power flooding through them as their favourite Rat and her Vampire were both overcome by the waves of intense pleasure. They held back from their own precipice though, denying Raphael his own for now. No, that would be too easy.

Besides, the most interesting participant at the end of the bed had been too busy giving to receive. Haarlep sensed his would be the most delectable climax to sample, the sheer lust emanating from him was palpable even to those without the incubus’s senses.

Tav gasped for air, partly from having her mouth full for some time, and partly from the orgasm that had just ripped through her body without mercy. Haarlep moved off her now, kneeling to one side and waiting patiently for the other two elves to finish, drinking in the sight of the larger man taking every last drop from his pale lover.

“Do any of you wish to stop?” Haarlep looked over with a smirk, knowing the answer even as the others still licked the moisture from their lips.

“More.” Halsin nodded.

“Now.” Astarion gasped.

“Please.” Tav whined.

Somewhere above them, the "ghost" whimpered his agreement.

It took only a few minutes for Haarlep to reorganise things to their satisfaction. They lay on their back for once, arms behind their head, looking towards the three before them. “Rat, you should be prepared.”

Tav swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. But she was nothing if not determined. The incubus saliva had certainly helped. Behind her, Halsin and Astarion were readying themselves with scented lotion and careful fingers, and in front of her the incubus was licking their hand once again.

“Not for your mouth, this time, Rat. No, this will make things…easier.” They caressed her hip with one hand, whilst plunging their prepared fingers deep within her core.

Tav wasn’t sure she needed the extra lubrication, she was already a mess, but she soon felt the other effect of their saliva. Tense and heated muscles began to relax a little around his fingers, allowing for more to slip inside, stretching carefully. The groan from behind her told her that the situation there was hardly any different. The desire within her to be completely filled was becoming insatiable. The incubus merely smirked at her.

“You are so very delicious~” They whispered, so only she might hear. The words alone had her voice mingling with her heavy breaths, not forming any language but that of pure lust.

It wasn’t long before Astarion’s hands were caressing her back, his lips coming to meet her shoulders and kissing lines of affection up to her ear. “Are you ready, darling? For us?”

She nodded, understanding the meaning in his words. Haarlep guided her hips to above them, lowering her down carefully, slowly, so she could feel the friction of every ridge. Flush to their body, they were not done.

“Closer, Rat.” They pulled her body forward, leaving her exposed to the lover behind her.

She was grateful for the incubus’s ministrations now, as Astarion carefully lined up and gradually entered her, groaning himself as he felt the incubus against him.

—

Raphael watched on, almost impressed as well as overwhelmed by the phantom tight feelings gripping him harder than his own tail did, as the last of the four manoeuvred on his knees, entering the pale elf with a gentle care and delicacy. The “tail” had long since been discarded, but most of the clothes remained on. Well, except for the druid’s. Muscles, and more, had long since turned the fine outfit into little more than rags, only the ruffled collar and cuffs remaining in one piece.

It was an utterly debauched sight. He strained at all of the ropes, desperate to feel more, to be where Haarlep was, where any of them were. He was not entirely immune to Haarlep’s abilities, and it had been hours since the toys had been set to their dastardly work on his body. He needed more, wanted more, he tried to cry out around the gag loud enough for the others to hear but their own lewd sounds were drowning him out.

—

Haarlep glanced over at their captive, deeply satisfied with how needy he looked. They grinned wickedly as they licked the tip of their tail, curling it around beneath them. They were delighted with their work, seeing their favourite toy filled with not one but two of them, moving in tandem and making her feel every single nerve and muscle as she rode out wave after wave of pleasure from their motion.

The druid on the other side of the complex equation was adding to it all, matching the pace that the incubus set at every turn, taking his cues from them and savouring the pleasure of both of his lovers. Haarlep wondered, perhaps, what the man might be like on his own, but that didn’t matter now. They considered this a test of his worth, to see which would outlast the other. Perhaps not a fair test, as the elf only had one partner clenched around him, whilst Haarlep not only filled Tav but ground against Astarion inside her, their own tail teasing within them at the same time just to add to Raphael’s torture.

Indeed, Haarlep was almost completely overwhelmed. Every room in their halls was filled with a similar scene, pleasure echoing off the walls, seeping into every stone, heating the hells themselves far beyond their usual searing flame. For once, it became hard for them to hold back. This was their finest hour, their masterpiece, the culmination of multiple carefully laid plan coming to one excruciatingly delicious climax. — The ghost was the first to lose the game, spilling forth across the floor from where he remained hanging, breathless, helpless, and utterly satisfied. Tav had lost count of the amount of peaks her pleasure had reached, but when she felt the shuddering climax of Astarion throbbing inside her, her head damn near burst. The white hot pleasure was followed not long after by the incubus adding to it, pulsing through the aftershock and leaving her entire body weak. It would have been impossible to say who won between the incubus and the druid, as Halsin roared like a wild beast the moment he felt his lover tighten around him with his own release. He held on tight to Astarion’s chest, soothing him through the intensity, pressing loving kisses across his shoulders and neck even as he was overcome by his own mind shattering climax.

— They almost collapsed in the aftermath, sprawling out across the bed, unable to form words, just sounds, the odd giggle as the intense pleasure subsided. Halsin gathered his lovers into his arms, one either side, and lay holding them close, soothing them and caressing them with gentle hands. Haarlep glanced down at the trio as they went to release Raphael from his bindings, even indulging him by carrying him over to the pool when his legs refused to stay upright. It took a while before the lovers on the sheets were ready to move to the healing waters, Halsin supporting them both with his arms around their waists, their own arms linking behind his back. Haarlep noted, with some approval, that the man didn’t even seem fully satisfied. They guessed he might well be able to continue far longer, had his partners had any ability to move at all. This would be something to consider later… They spent a long time resting, tending to each other, gradually coming down from the dizzying heights they had ascended to in Haarlep’s little game. By morning, a lot of exhausted but satisfied bodies were leaving through the portals, and barely any still had the clothes they arrived in. Fresh outfits had been laid out in each room, almost in anticipation of this very outcome. The sight of so many walking home might have been described by some as a Mass Exodus of Shame, but there was no room for shame in Haarlep’s domain. They smiled and waved, knowing their delightful little trick meant they wouldn’t need to feed again for weeks. Although, they wouldn’t mind a little treat …

----------- ----------- ENDING NOTES ----------- -----------

If you're wondering "where in the hells was Gale for all this", honestly? He might've been accidentally left at camp. He got a one shot and a side story sequel later so I consider that I have made it up to him now.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #haarlep #bg3 raphael #bg3 tav #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #a tav's guide #astarion #halsin #halsin x astarion x tav x haarlep x raphael

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sgkophie · 2 years

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Man's World - Chapter 8 - Track Fights Lead To Late Nights

Pairing: Female!Leclerc reader x Carlos Sainz Jr, Carlos Sainz x reader

Warnings: slow burn, language, enemies to lovers

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~5.7k

AN: Here it is ladies and gentlemen! Chapter 8! Sorry there's no smut in this one, but I am expecting that we'll have some smut coming up veryyyyy shortly.

As always, comments are greatly appreciated - I love reading what you all think! I have been blown away by the comments and messages so thank you!

Short Synopsis: Enemies to lovers with Carlos. <3

Check out the full intro synopsis + full story master list here.

********

When morning rolled around, I sprinted out of my room to the bathroom, showered and changed as quickly as I could, and hurried myself back into my room – less I see Carlos in the flesh again… or in a towel, again. I wasn’t sure what was more horrifying to me – the fact that I had a sex dream about Carlos Sainz, or that Carlos Sainz had caught me having a sex dream about him.

The latter, it was definitely the latter.

God, this wasn’t going to do anything to help his ego problem, I thought to myself. How was I supposed to face Carlos this morning… or any other time of day? I looked down at my Rolex watch to see the time – 8:00am. Great, just one hour before Carlos and I had to meet downstairs to hop in my Bugatti. Today was the official start of the hoax – Carlos and I were to arrive at the track together, hand in hand, like a newly in love couple. Because he had so many fans waiting for him, Ferrari had asked that we come earlier than usual, which meant I was also going to be dragged around the paddock early each day.

Once I was done changing, I crept out of my room and turned my head to Carlos’ room, only to notice that his door was open, as was the bathrooms’. Oh thank god, he must be downstairs having breakfast, I sighed to myself, relieved because it meant I could sneak down to breakfast without disturbing Carlos. I grabbed my Bugatti bag – which was a beautifully designed Ted Baker shoulder bag, packed it full of my things for the day, and headed to the elevator.

Please be empty, please be empty, I silently prayed to whatever god was listening. As I heard the ding on the elevator, I looked up and realized one thing – I had definitely wronged someone in a past life.

There, standing in front of me, was Carlos Sainz’s parents.

Is the elevator where fun goes to die?

His mom saw me and put her hand over the elevator doors, as his father waved for me to come in. “Georgie!” his mom exclaimed. I felt slightly taken aback about how comfortable she felt using my nickname, but I did my best to hide my shock. “How lovely to see you – you look dashing in this Bugatti outfit. They really do know how to dress you and Lily.” Her smile was warm, and incredibly inviting. I let my shoulders relax just a bit and smiled.

“Morning,” I responded casually, hopping into the elevator.

Carlos father smiled at me, warmly, and patted me on the back. “Oh good, Carlos said he wasn’t sure if you’d be joining us for breakfast. Said you were feeling a bit poorly last night – hope you feel better,” he said with a sympathetic smile.

In truth I had no idea what to say to that, and I did my best from letting my cheeks heat up – but I knew they were showing a bit of a red tint as Carlos’ mom tilted her head, looking at me with those gorgeous brown eyes. The last thing I ever wanted Carlos’ parents to know is that I was having sex dreams about their eldest son.

“Um.. yes, all good, just needed a solid night’s sleep.” How can I get out of breakfast with the Sainz? How can I get out of breakfast with the Sainz? I questioned over and over again. I ran thru various scenarios, trying to think of an excuse believable enough that wouldn’t insult their intelligence.

Unfortunately for me, before I could think of any excuse worthy of Carlos’ incredibly endearing parents, the elevators doors opened and his mom linked her arms in mine, gracefully dragging me out of the elevator.

“Carlos has a table for us downstairs,” she exclaimed. Her cheeriness was starting to get on my nerves, but I nodded in response. As we entered the restaurant, I could see a clear look of surprise on Carlos’ face – sitting at a table for three people, not four.

“Chili – look who we ran into in the elevator - get the hostess to pull up an extra chair,” Carlos Sr. called out to his son. For a moment it looked like Carlos was going to deny his father’s request, but after a few moments of staring at me in disbelief, he trotted over to the hostess and asked for a fourth chair to be placed at the table.

His mother shuffled me into a chair and grabbed my bag from my back, placing it under the table. “I am just so excited for this weekend, “ she exclaimed, it’s just lovely to be back in Spain. Carlos has been looking forward to this weekend since we had testing in Barcelona a few months ago.”

I nodded my head in response, not entirely sure how to respond to that. On one hand, I understood – I was equally excited for Monaco, your home race was truly the crown jewel of the season and winning it? That was a dream every driver had – to win their home race in front of their closest friends and families.

The hostess pulled up the fourth Chair next to me and Carlos awkwardly sat in it, clearly trying to regain his composure. There was a lot of pressure on him this weekend, and I could tell he wasn’t prepared to have breakfast with his pretend girlfriend quite yet. I gave him a small smile – an apology of sorts.

I immediately regretted it when he winked back at me, a sultry smile forming on his lips as he whispered, “Hope you were able to get some proper rest last night, wouldn’t want you to be distracted this weekend.” The twinkle in his eye was unmistakable – Carlos Sainz was not going to let this go anytime soon.

I frowned at him, “Don’t be silly, nothing can distract me from beating you this weekend.” While I thought I had said that in a low enough voice so that his parents couldn’t hear me, clearly I had missed the mark because his father let out a big laugh.

“Oh Chili, you have some real competition this weekend I see. Good – I look forward to an exciting race, that Bugatti has incredible speed and your girlfriend clearly knows how to drive her car,” his father commented to the two of us. I blushed slightly – I knew people would be calling me Carlos’ girlfriend pretty consistently by the end of the day, but hearing it for the first time, out of his father’s mouth no less, left me with a weird feeling that was a mixture of butterflies and anxiety.

Today was going to be different. I had never arrived at the track as someone’s girlfriend – only ever as a driver, and while I shouldn’t feel any different about walking into the paddock, I couldn’t help but immediately think of all the press on the different driver’s girlfriends. Luisa often complained about it. It was a constant assessment on what they wore, how they acted around their boyfriends - and a constant evaluation from the media and public of ‘is this girlfriend good enough for this driver no one actually knows’.

All of a sudden I didn’t feel that hungry anymore. I knew I should eat something, but the thought of putting food in my body when I had this huge wave of anxiety made me want to throw up. I’m not sure if Carlos noticed my shift in demeanor, but I all of a sudden felt a hand on my leg. The hand squeezed my leg lightly and Carlos commented, “You should have a little more – it’s going to be a warm one today and greeting all of my fans will be more exhausting than you know,” he smirked, clearly trying to make light of the situation. Much to my – brief – disappointment, his hand quickly removed itself from my thigh and Carlos went back to his breakfast.

I just rolled my eyes at him, but picked up another spoonful of oatmeal and did my best to finish the bowl. He was right – our lunch in the Ferrari paddock wasn’t scheduled until 2pm, so I had to survive a lot of media until then. As 9am rolled around Carlos signaled to me that it was time to go by tapping on his watch. We said our goodbyes to his parents, who said they couldn’t wait to see us for lunch, and then head to the front of the hotel where my beautiful blue Buagtti was waiting for me. I knew Isabelle wanted to put us in a Volkswagon Beetle again – but Ferrari said absolutely not. I was torn, because the look on Carlos’ face when he realized that we were getting into a Volkswagen would have been hilarious, but on the other end, I never turned down the opportunity to drive the new Bugatti Veyron.

As we hopped into the car, Carlos slowly slid into the passenger seat, clearly annoyed that we weren’t in his black Ferrari. “Don’t worry, Carlos, you won’t catch a disease from the car,” I chuckled at his hesitancy. He smirked and rolled his eyes, buckling his seat belt in the process.

“So... I was told we uh-needed to go thru some more questions since we’ll be so public this weekend,” Carlos said, his voice a little uneasy. I was shocked at his change in demeanor – Carlos had always been so cocky, so Mr. Confident, it was odd to hear his voice waver with uncertainty.

“Sure, fire away,” I responded, clearing my throat and nodding towards the piece of paper he was unrolling in his hands.

“When did you know you wanted to be a Formula 1 driver?” he asked.

“When I was 5, our father took us to the Monaco GP. It is still, to this day, one of the best weekends of my life. I remember it like it was yesterday. The cars were shiny and beautiful, the day was incredibly sunny, and my father held me for most of the race – pointing out the different cars and explaining the racetrack to me. I knew in that moment, that I wanted to be a race car driver – wanted to make him proud.”

There was a comfortable silence in the air, as if Carlos was considering what I had said. “I guess I always just knew I was going to be a professional driver since my dad was one,” he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

I didn’t quite know what to say to that. I suppose it made sense all things considered. Carlos pulled out another sheet of paper from his pocket and read the question. “What is your favorite pasta?”

As he said it, I couldn’t help but let out a snort and a laugh. “They really want us to know this one, don’t they?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Mine is spaghetti – a total classic. Charles actually makes an incredible spaghetti bolognaise. Whenever we have family dinner night at his, he makes it for us with the most delicious Texas toast – a recipe he learned when we visited our family in America.”

“Charles a cook? Now that I wouldn’t have guessed,” Carlos huffed out, a little shocked at my revelation. “I like macaroni – it’s simple, classic and easy to make no matter the sauce.”

How practical of him, I thought to myself. Carlos didn’t strike me as a mac and cheese kind of guy, but now all I could picture was Carlos shoveling mac and cheese into his face like a five year old. I let out a small laugh at the image.

“Is my pasta funny?” he quipped.

“No, no, I’m sure grown men eat mac and cheese all the time,” I teased.

He rolled his eyes and went to say something, but decided to keep his mouth shut as we arrived at the paddock. As we entered the parking lot, I could see fans everywhere – clearly waiting for a driver to arrive.

“Here we go,” I heard Carlos whisper to himself, almost inaudibly.

I took a big breath and then put on the biggest smile on my face that I could muster and stepped out of the car. I looked to the crowd that was starting to form around the cars and barricades. Wow, there are lots of people here today, Spain really brings out a crowd, I thought to myself.

And boy, oh boy, did I have no idea, because just a few seconds later, Carlos stepped out of my passenger side door and waved – sending the crowd into a frenzy. All of sudden there was screaming and cheers from all directions, cheering on Carlos, asking for signatures and photos. Carlos walked to the trunk and took out my bag and his, carefully handing mine to me. I put the strap over my shoulders and then looked at him, a small smile on my face.

Carlos knew what that meant – time to give the people want they want. He looked down at our hands and grabbed mine, interlocking our fingers within one another. He looked back up into my eyes and smiled that huge Cheshire cat Carlos smile.

“Ready to walk down?” he asked. I just nodded in response and Carlos led us off towards the paddock gates, signing merchandise and taking selfies as we walked through the barricade. Fortunately there were several Bugatti fans as well, so we both stopped to sign merchandise and talk to various attendees, all while doing our best to hold hands of course.

“Georgia! Georgia – are you and Carlos actually dating?” A young girl asked me while I signed her cap.

Before I could answer, Carlos bent down and gave her a nod. “Snagged me the best racer on the grid, don’t you think?” he grinned at the little girl. She chuckled and asked for a selfie with the two of us, which we happily obliged. The second best thing of being a racing driver was my young, female fans. Watching their eyes glow up when I spoke to them reminded me why I was doing this. Change had to happen in this sport, and I was proud of myself for leading the way with Lily. Women were no longer grid girls – we were drivers, engineers, Team Principals.

We made our way through the barricade of fans and to the security entrance of the paddock walkway – still hand in hand. As Carlos and I walked through, Lando Norris, in his ridiculous bright papaya-colored hoodie, came bounding over to us, like a golden retriever who had just seen his newest play toy.

“Well, well, well – if it isn’t F1’s hottest new couple!” He called across to us, a large smile on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at the two of us. “I don’t know why Charles gets the credit for this, feel like I should have the honors,” he announced proudly. Carlos poked him in the stomach, reminding him not to be too loud. We didn’t need Lando Norris spoiling this for us – I was already doing a good job of that myself.

“Why are you here so early? Zak trying to keep a short leash on you,” I teased. He stuck his tongue out at me as he gave me a big hug around the waist.

“Just getting some extra debriefing on the breaks this morning – figured I might as well come in early and see the Carlos Sainz madness unfold.” Carlos scoffed at that, batting Lando over the head. I was a little shocked, I knew they were friends, but I didn’t realize quite how close they were.

“I hear the three of us will all be in the same press conference this morning – wonder how that could have happened,” he smirked, clearly enjoying the F1 Media Team’s enjoyment over this situation. They were known to try and stir the pot, especially if it meant more people would watch the pre-race media coverage.

“Never a dull moment with the FIA,” I groaned. “Well, as lovely as it’s been chatting with you Lando, Carlos and I have media duties to attend to,” I said pointedly, pulling Carlos away with me. “Bye, cabrón, I’ll see you at the press conference,” he yelled back in his thick Spanish accent.

Lando waved at us, chuckling away as he watched me pull Carlos to the Bugatti paddock entrance. As we rounded the corner and stepped inside the garage, I dropped his hand – in a clear show of frustration and pleasure that this first charade was over. “Pick you up at 11am!” He yelled back at me as I huffed it towards my drivers room.

*******

I spent the next 90 minutes being debriefed by the team on various activities for the weekend. After the drivers press conference I was to come back to the garage, get more strategy debriefs, and then get lunch at the Ferrari hospitality center with Charles and Carlos – another publicity stunt to show just how excited my brother was for this budding relationship. Of course this one was Charles idea, which was truly frustrating to me. He knew I had to spend all this time in a room with Carlos – now I had to give him my lunch break. Charles said that he was just trying to use the situation to see me more, which sure, sounded sweet at the time but was also frustrating as all other.

11am rolled around and Carlos, as promised, stood outside of the Bugatti garage waiting for me. The press conference was to start at 11:15 and Lizzie and Coco wanted us arriving on time as a unified front – hand in hand, like a soppy couple in love. As we high tailed it to the press conference, Lizzie stood besides Carlos, happily chatting away to him as if they had been best friends for years. If Carlos was annoyed by her constant chatter, he didn’t show it, instead responding to her in fuller sentences than I think I had ever gotten out of him.

I walked into the press conference room and of course, in addition to Lando, sat Pierre, a large smile on his face when he saw Carlos and I walk in hand in hand. They had strategically sat in the two left most seats, while George Russell sat in the right most seat, leaving the two seats in the middle for Carlos and I.

I looked straight at Lando, shooting death stares in his direction, but he just kept chatting to Pierre, pretending not to notice me. I’m sure Lando thought of this one, I thought to myself.

As I went to take the middle seat, Will Buxton came up to me with a large grin on his face and whispered, “Glad you and Carlos worked it out.” He gave me a subtle wink as I smiled at him, doing my best to hide my gritted teeth. Great. So he had heard me muttering away in the elevator. I just nodded and gave him a small smile, truly unsure of what to say, but feeling a bit of relief that I had gotten away with that blunder.

I sat in my middle seat, nicely tucked between Lando and Carlos and waited for the press conference to begin. Lizzie was in the back, waving her hands at my face, indicating I needed to smile. Before I had left the paddock Isabelle had reminded me, “People in happy relationships smile, Georgia,” to which I just flicked her off – my team principal – probably not the brightest move for my career.

Will Buxton called the press conference into order and started the conversation with a talk on porpoising, something that had truthfully been affecting all of the drivers. George, of course, had plenty to say on the matter, although I probably would too if I was driving a Mercedes.

The conversations continued to flow, with the presenter finally stopping at me. “So, Georgia, we hear you are feeling better this week. How are things?”

“Good,” I responded slowly, letting my eyes dart to Lizzie for reassurance. She nodded, motioning for me to go on. “I’m 100% recovered and looking forward to getting into the car tomorrow. We have some new upgrades which I think are going to truly bring something interesting to the race.”

“Going to make sure you have enough water this time?” the commentator joked, clearly trying to poke fun at my expense from last race. I just frowned. Is this what we’re calling journalism these days?

I could feel Carlos about to say something, but I put my hand out, signaling that I had this. “Now, now, Jeremy, you know I can’t give away Bugatti race secrets,” I said playfully, batting my eyes just a bit at the journalist, who laughed a little in response, clearly expecting to get a rise out of me. He looked a bit disappointed. Good. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Carlos’ eyes go wide; he had definitely not expected me to say that.

I’m not sure what it was, but something about having Carlos there gave me the encouragement and confidence I needed to engage with the media. Seeing Carlos about to but in on my behalf might just be the help I needed to engage with the journalists. Instead of sulking away or yelling at them, I somehow had the sense to quip back at them – a little hint that they should leave me alone, without actually saying it.

Maybe Isabelle was right, having Carlso Sainz teach me how to do media might be a good thing, I thought to myself. Hate when she’s right..

After the the press conference I trudged my way back to the Bugatti paddock, Lizzie trailing behind me. After my lunch at Ferrari, I would be free of Carlos until the evening time, I had been informed. Carlos had a gig tonight with one of the big F1 podcasts. They were doing a live evening show with Carlos – something they tried to do with all the racers at their home race, sort of a home race live series where fans were invited and got to submit questions beforehand. I knew mine was next week at Monaco. Something else to look forward to, I thought sarcastically.

Apparently no one at Ferrari had thought to inform Lizzie, and as much as I didn’t want to go, Lizzie was right – I couldn’t exactly NOT show up to Carlos’ big, live podcast event. Fortunately, I had been let off from the after party, with an excuse that I had incredibly early morning sponsorship meetings with VIPs. A small “I’m sorry” that Isabelle had gifted me with after she told me my evening would be spent among a group of fans, me pretending to fawn over Carlos, while everyone around me actually was fawning over Carlos.

At least Charles and Pierre had offered to go, so all wasn’t lost.

*****

Podcast Event

Carlos had arrived early to prep for the podcast, so Charles, Pierre and I were ushered into a nice VIP room with some champagne – something I decided to definitely take advantage of. If I was going to listen to Carlos drone on about Ferrari for an hour, might as well be tipsy for it.

The show hosts were nice enough. I figured they were over analyzing Carlos and I, trying to spot any inconsistencies in our behavior. Fortunately for Carlos, he was a pro at winning over the media and after a few awkward exchanges, things started to feel a bit more normal. At about fives minutes before show start, the coordinator moved Charles, Pierre and I into our seats at the front so as to avoid us getting bombarded by fans all evening. As we walked in the crowd cheered and the three of us took a few selfies along the way.

The hosts opened up with a nice bio about Carlos – his history of karting and his entry into Formula 1. They discussed his father and his life growing up as a Spanish driver, plus his undying love for Real Madrid. At about the 45 minute mark, I started to feel some relief. Maybe they won’t even mention our relationship, I thought to myself.

I knew that was a bunch of wishful thinking, because as if on queue, the podcast host cleared his throat, indicating we were about to change subject.

“So Carlos, rumor has it that F1’s most eligible Bachelor is no longer single,” the podcast presenter said slyly, wiggling his eyes brows at Carlos, making the audience laugh. I grimaced a bit, but Charles poked my side, reminding me that we were in public.

“Ooh, you heard that rumor too,” Carlos chucked, winking at me from the stage. I could hear a couple girls behind me whisper about how lucky I was. “I mean can you blame me? With a smile that gorgeous and talent that enormous, it was pretty easy to see that she was someone special.” The audience ‘ooh’d and awed’ at Carlos’ comment, completely enamored by the Spaniard on stage. I did my best not to roll my eyes, hoping there weren’t cameras pointed at me.

Bunch of crap, I thought to myself.

“I’m sure it wasn’t easy getting the brother’s approval, even if he is your teammate,’ the presenter joke, gesturing to Charles in the audience who was giving Carlos a sly smirk. Oh Charles… always ready to play the part of Ferraris’ golden boy.

“Well, I was basically her biggest fan from the day she started. I did my best to drop hints to Charles over pre-season, but by Emilia, I told him – well, begged him – to let me have a chance. Charles of course told me the usual – you know, if I hurt her he’ll make sure to ram his car into the back of mine. I told him not to worry, I’m sure his sister would beat him too it… I mean she is the better Leclerc driver after all,” Carlos chuckled and Charles waved him off, much to the audience’s amusement. Have they practiced this already? I thought to myself. I could just picture Mattia, dressed in his Ferrari gear, ignoring the clip board he was holding full of racing strategy, instead educating Carlos and Charles on what they were supposed to say during these media exchanges.

“You know I gotta say, we were all kind of shocked when we saw you guys walk hand in hand into the paddock today. Not to be rude, but we didn’t think you could pull such a lovely lady like Georgia,” the presented laughed.

I wanted to throw something at the presenter. Why didn’t he just say what he actually wanted to say: How did Georgia Leclerc manage to bag dashing, attractive, playboy Carlos Sainz? How did she manage to tame F1’s heartthrob? Why had Carlos Sainz settled for Little Ms. Sassy Leclerc?

Wouldn’t he like to know the truth.

“What, you saying she’s out of my league?” Carlos quipped back, causing the audience to erupt into laughter. “You know, I was as shocked as you were. You see, the rest of the world sees Georgie as this quiet, boring racing driver who only has eyes for winning, everything else be damned. But the Georgie I know, it couldn’t be further from the truth.” I closed my eyes, unable to bare the thought of where Carlos was going with this one.

“Oh?” The presented asked, motioning for Carlos to go on.

“I think what really won me over was her hilarious personality and pranks. I have never met someone as quick witted as Georgie – not even Danny Ric can keep up with her. And her pranks on Lando? The stuff of legends. You should ask him about them when you have him on before Silverstone. Absolutely hilarious. As for Georgia – you’ll have to ask her in Monaco why she’s dating me, ‘cause I certainly have no idea; she must be blind!” he joked, shrugging his shoulders to the audience as they playfully boo’d his last remark.

I could feel my cheeks heating up, a blush definitely coming up onto my face. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he knew about my pranks on Lando, he was Lando’s teammate for years and I had played some great pranks on Lando over the years – hence my ‘semi-enforced’ McLaren ban.

“Georgie Leclerc a prankster?! Now that is definitely something we’ll have to discuss next race, Charles,” he said, pointing his fingers to Charles; the latter just laughed and nodded, yelling back at the podcaster, “Oh, do I have some stories to tell!” I slapped Charles on the shoulder and gave him a dirty look, much to the amusement of Pierre.

“Now let’s talk about Miami – when Georgia pulled up her car, it was if you already knew she wasn’t feeling well. Fans have speculated that the teams put a radio for you to chat inside the cars – any truth to that?”

Now I really wanted to roll my eyes. As if Bugatti would allow me the extra weight so I could chat to my boyfriend. What did he think this team was run by, middle school girls? What a loser, I thought to myself. I heard Pierre very lightly chuckle next to me, clearly enjoying the ridiculousness of the F1 podcaster. My guess is he had the exact same thought. We barely got water, the engineers weren’t about to add in ‘relationship radios’.

Carlos did his best to chuckle through that one. At first I thought his hesitancy to answer the question was because he was set aback by the ridiculous fan theory, but his answer was even more surprising. “No, no… believe me, I don’t need anyone hearing me chatter to myself throughout the race, I think I’d be called certifiable insane,” he laughed, his face slowly turning my more serious. “Georgie, after each race where she gets a podium, does this cute jump out of the car; she puts both her hands on the bars and hops out of the car with what you can only tell is a huge smile on her face. Both of her arms go flying into the air and she does this silly ‘washing the windows’ dance. It’s really quite adorable. When she didn’t immediately hop out of the car, I just knew something was wrong. If there’s something I know about the Leclerc twins, its that they’re the first to congratulate each other. It doesn’t matter whose won.”

As the audience around me started to ooh and awe around me, I felt frozen in place. Had he really noticed that I did that? I could feel Charles harden next to me, also completely frozen – likely hating himself for not noticing this at the Miami race. He still wasn’t over the fact that Carlos had come to my rescue first. Whether I was independent or not, Charles was always going to be protective of me. Even Pierre fiddled with his hands, unsure of what to say.

“So, did you know this was the reason?” Pierre whispered into my ear. I just shook my head lightly, trying to keep the smile Isabelle had told me to wear plastered to my face. Truthfully, in that moment, I was feeling incredibly confused. How had Carlos noticed this? When did he care enough to notice? What else had Carlos noticed about me? That was the real question I wanted answered, but I knew I was going to have to wait patiently for that one.

“What a true gentlemen, Carlos,” the presented preened, slapping him on the back. “We’re glad Georgia is alright and we’re definitely looking forward to seeing the two of you fight it out on the racetrack. This is our last question of the night, and then we’ll let you go. Do you think your fights on track will affect your relationship at all? You’re both title contenders this year. Any animosity spill over to off track drama?”

I did my best to hide my scoff as Charles elbowed me in the side. As if Carlos was a true contender, I thought to myself. Sure it was petty, but I was who I was.

“Not at all – we’re both fierce competitors on the track, that’s true, but the fact is, every moment I spend with her makes me a better race car driver, I mean hell, even a better person,” he said softly. Carlos was now looking out at me, his lovely brown eyes staring right into mine. I felt frozen in time as I stared back, daring him to end this with something sarcastic or witty. Anything to make this feeling of butterflies I was feeling go away – anything to remind myself why Carlos Sainz was the enemy.

“For example, our battles on the track make me better at driving defensively. When we spend our dinners chatting about the engineering make up of a car, I learn something new about how to better manage a Formula 1 car. And when we spend an evening snuggling and watching Perks of Being a Wallflower, her favorite movie, I get this incredible peacefulness that transcends into race weekends.” Carlos paused for a quick second, as if he was contemplating what his last comment would be. Slowly, a smirk crept up onto his lips as he added, “Plus, the more fighting we do on the track, the more making up we get to do off the track,” Carlos added, wiggling his eyebrows at me from the stage. I could feel my cheeks go bright red, and I impulsively put my hands over my face, trying to hide my redness as much as possible.

The crowd burst into applause and fits of laughter, with much of the audience jumping from their seats in a standing ovation for Carlos as the announcer got up from the desk and shook Carlos hand, still laughing loudly from Carlos’ final joke.

I was pissed. Pissed because while Carlos had ended it with something sarcastic and witty just as I had hoped, the butterflies I had felt a few moments ago hadn’t returned, they had gotten stronger.

This was going to be harder than I thought.

********

If I left you off the tag list, please let me know! (So sorry if I did!)

@ferrarifwendvale @ihearttheoriginals @lightsoutpierre @starxqt @internetgremlin @ashf1 @lovingroscoee @markluv4u @kashee-h @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @questionslostinmoments @oyesmendes @groovy-slytherin @hnmaga-blog @zoobabystation @opfire @running-colourful @alina-starksov @localfreckle @jpotterdilf @gingerxarmy @bands-messed-me-up @zoobabystation @troybolton-14 @she-shines-bright @xscorpioxmoon @whosays75 @j-brielmalfoy @ohthemisssery @she-shines-bright @starxqt @felicitydameronren @running-colourful @forzaferraris @alternativemadchen @dontforgetplusc @starlightoctavia @dontforgetplusc @monte-carlando @alina-starksov @kodzuskook @loverboysainz @desperate-and-broken @jpotterdilf @questionslostinmoments @xheera @ccloaned @panicforspec @guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy

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camywamycam · 10 months

Text

what was left behind in the rubble P.3

702 words

soon to be harry x reader

TW//WRITTEN AT 4 AM BY A SLEEP DEPRIVED TEEN!!!

A/N

I know this is a short chapter and im sorry 😭 I finished writing this at 4 am because I can only write at night since I'm with my mom and siblings all day and I refuse to write in front of them 😭 maybe it wasnt a good idea to start a full ass fanfic story with a plot 2 weeks before I leave for summer camp but yolo, ive decided im gonna have this fic go from the summer - hoggwarts and y/n will start acting a lot more like Sirius iykwim

y/ns pov

................

If you had been in the right mindset, you would have impatiently pushed Remus away the second he stepped foot into your room. However, at that moment, all you needed was a hug. You clung onto the soft fabric of his cable knit sweater, which carried the strong scent of chocolate, cigars, and parchment. Remus held you firmly in his arms, patiently waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to open up about your thoughts.

"I hate him," you said in a broken voice.

"You don't mean that," Remus replied, his uncertainty evident in his words. "He loves you, he just... doesn't know the right way to express himself, that's all."

"Well, he obviously doesn't have that problem with Potter," you spat, your voice tinged with envy. "When I traveled all the way to Europe to see my biological father, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't be a total dick."

Remus sat and listened attentively as you rambled, finally realizing how left out you had truly been. The other children never spoke to you, and neither did the adults, except for the usual greetings. The more he spoke to you, the more he learned about your experiences. He discovered that while you were neglected at Grimlands place, you had met a group of muggles who had welcomed you into their friend group so at least you hadn't been totally alone. In the mere 45 minutes of conversation, Remus had already learned more about you than your very own father.

You and Remus continued to chat throughout the night in the room which you had made your own. For the first time in a while when you woke up that morning you didn't feel absolutely terrible. you turned to your side and checked your phone notifications before getting ready for the day.

you tried to sprint down the stairs as quietly as possible knowing the other adults in the house wouldn't be so happy about you sneaking off to hang around strange people whom they knew nothing about. It was almost comical how much they tried to control you when you and they both knew they didn't care about you in the slightest. As you raced down the stairs you bumped into a pale boy with messy black hair and glasses that were a tad bit too large for his face. "black." he spat "potter." "and where do you think you are going?" he said sassily

harrys pov

....................

it was strange seeing y/n actually dressed. since none of the kids went outside we mostly stayed in our lounging clothes. I took note of y/ns red top, flared jeans, a jean jacket that was covered in patches, and Converse. She actually looked quite nice... but I would never admit that.

"out." that's all she said as she tried pushing past me. I grabbed a hold of her wrist "What's your problem? You've been acting rude ever since you got here. You could at least try to talk to your dad." she scoffed in my face "Oh I've tried. he's the one who doesn't want me here." "Maybe he would actually like you if you weren't such a bitch." I was shocked at the words falling from my mouth. did I say that out loud? my thoughts were confused as y/n turned around and punched me square in the nose. Adults rushed in as they heard me fall into a vase smashing it while holding my bloody nose. Mrs. Weasly scolded y/n “what on earth have you done!” she screamed at y/n but she just looked around with a red face and big eyes as she rushed towards the door slamming it shut, not that anyone cared.

"don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry," you thought to yourself as you ran to your friends' house. luckily she asked no questions and just welcomed you in with open arms. you eventually told her what had happened at Grimmlands place and she was pissed. both her parents said you could stay with them as long as you needed. they even let you move into the guest room so you wouldn't have to continue sleeping on your friend's floor. you know that you can't stay here long since school is starting soon, but you might as well enjoy it while you can.

tag list

@moonys0chocolate @venomsvl @quackitysdrugdealer @superduckmilkshake

#Harry Potter #remus lupin x reader platonic #sirius black x daughter!reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter angst #poorly written fics

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bradshawsluvr · 8 months

Text

Roosters and Flowers

Chapter 2

Rooster x OG fem Mitchell Character <3 & Rooster x OG son character

Summary: Pete finally meets Louis and Flo and Roo have there first sorta meeting.

Warnings: none

A/N: hope you like it :))

“Tell me about my grandson” Maverick says, sitting in a chair in her office.

“Well he’s 6, he plays for the local Junior baseball team and he likes to spend time at the beach” she explained.

“6? Wow, I do think he takes after you” he added looking at the picture of the two.

“Nah he looks more like his father in my opinion” she was now also looking at the picture.

“I know you only just told me Mavey but if he has our last name then what about his father?” Asked Pete.

“Ah that’s a story for a different time dad” she added smiling awkwardly.

“Oh okay” sighed Maverick “so when can I meet him?”.

“Well you can come over this weekend” she smiled at him.

“Perfect” he smiled back

———————————🪩————————————

The sun was setting as Florence walked towards the Hard Deck.

She had decided that she wanted to venture out to the Hard Deck in hopes to see Penny.

She knew that Bradley could be there but she was also aware that she was going to run into him at some point on base.

And given the little mini me that was at home being babysit by Amelia she knew that it was probably best that they talked.

Opening the door she heard the all too familiar bell, she practically strutted her way to the bar taking a seat.

“Well well, what’s a fine lady like you doing alone at a bar like this” she heard, turning to her right to find a human version of a Ken, she also noticed his obvious kharki uniform.

“Excuse me” her brows furrowed.

“Leave the poor girl alone Hangman” chuckled Penny serving Flo her usual.

“Hangman?” She asked “what kind of nickname is that”.

“Oh sweetheart you couldn’t tell” he looked down towards his uniform “I’m in the navy, I’m a pilot” he smiled all cocky gazing down at her.

“Oh really” she forced the sarcasm down.

“Bagman” she heard behind her, she turned around only to come face to face with Rooster; he was wearing a colourful Hawaiian shirt good to know he kept the same sense of style she thought. “Leave the lady alone” he said glancing towards Flo.

Hangman chucked “sorry darlin looks like I’ll have to cut our time short” he said with his southern drawl “if Rooster doesn’t meet your standards you know where to find me” he winked as he stepped away.

“I suppose I owe you a thanks then” she looked up at him who was already getting settled in the seat next to her.

“Yeah Bagman’s pretty insufferable” he replied.

“Yeah I can tell” she chuckled.

“So how have you been?” He asked making her roll her eyes “what?” He looked confused, “don’t do that Brad” “do what”.

“Pretend like things are normal” she looked him in the eye.

“Alright fine. I’m sorry Flower okay” he took a deep breath “don’t call me that” she muttered as she turned away, “I’m sorry I left really I am”.

“Why’d you leave then?” She said turning Back towards him, he opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it “you know what never mind I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuse right now” she got up and walked towards the door.

“Florence wait” he immediately got up and went after her, she opened the door and stormed her way to her car; he grabbed her wrist “Florence please just listen to me”.

She huffed “fine” she crossed her arms.

“It’s just…I miss us okay and I was stupid to leave I know that I’ve regretted since the second I did it. So please can you just accept my apology, I’ve missed you and I’ve missed our relationship” he tried to reason to her releasing his hold on her wrist.

“Fine. But only because of the complication of the mission and dad” her arms moved to be on her side, “have you spoken to Mav” he asked “yeah he came to see me on base, and from what I’ve heard you two have had quite some rekindling conversations yourselves”.

“Oh don’t even go there” he combed his hand through his hair “I meant what I said Flower I have missed you” he looked down at her, “yeah I’ve missed you too” she looked back up at him.

“But I should get home” she finally said after a beat of silence “oh yeah of course sure” Bradley replied.

“Oh by the way I like the moustache it suits you” she added as she walked away towards her car.

“What” he smiled, hearing exactly what she said but wanted her to say it again.

“Nothing Rooster” she laughed as she got in her car.

Rooster watched her drive off just before he went back inside and eventually left himself.

————————————————————————

Rooster and Florence finally meet again after 6 years 👏

Dm me to be added to the tag list !!

Tag list: @rosiahills22 @hangmandruigandmav @shanimallina87 @abaker74

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley brawshaw x female!reader #bradley bradshaw x oc

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storiesbyrhi · 2 years

Text

Sneak Peek... Eddie Munson x Witch!Reader

Hey there friends and family. I'm working on a witchy fic because, well, you know me. I was born for this kind of content. I haven't decided if it will be a one shot or multi chaptered, so while I type away I thought I'd let you enjoy a sneak peek.

I'd love to hear your early thoughts! And, as always, if you have any cute little details you'd love to see in the story, let me know. Under the cut ;)

TITLE TBA

There was something really… freaky… about the newest resident of Forest Hills Trailer Park. Eddie Munson was absolutely convinced she was a wizard, witch, whatever. He had no tangible proof. But the circumstantial evidence, your honour, was overwhelming.

Firstly, your small, black VW Bug appeared silently overnight, pulling a small trailer home in what seemed like an impossible feat of automobile engineering. You set up next to the Mayfield’s home, cordoning off your rectangular plot with a black plastic picket fence hammered into the ground. It was short, reaching only your knees, but it laid claim to the land in a way that kept unwanted guests away from the garden.

Secondly, that garden. The trailer sat at the back of the plot, with green grass surrounding it that hadn’t existed before you arrived. Pots of plants framed the land, their flowers and fruit spilling out as if they had been growing in their positions for months. Bees and butterflies had come to Forest Hills, making home in your established greenery.

Thirdly, nobody had seen you. Sometimes the black bug was there. Sometimes it wasn’t. A few long-term residents of the park had taken it upon themselves to step over the pickets and knock on the trailer door. They received no answer, although the lights inside were on.

Eddie would watch your place as soon as he rolled in, driving his van slowly. He’d sneak looks through the blinds of his trailer and take too long to hang the laundry around the back, close to where he could eavesdrop on the locals gossiping about the mystery of it all.

…

It was near the witching hour, 3:00 am, when Eddie shot up in bed one night, drenched in sweat. The scratching in his nightmare transitioned into real life and he looked around for the source of the sound. Small, frantic scratching. Unfamiliar, persistent scratching.

He followed the noise outside his bedroom and to the door that led to a makeshift deck. He’d only begun to crack it open when a snow white cat darted through, her scratching being replaced with happy meows.

“Hi there,” Eddie said to the cat, squatting down and holding a hand out for the creature to smell. The cat rubbed her face on his hand, welcoming any and all pats. “Where’d you come from, huh?”

The cat wore a red glittery collar holding a small tag printed with her name. Siouxsie seemed to be a big Eddie fan; the feeling was mutual. The pair was so engaged in their purring and patting that Eddie didn’t notice you arrive.

“Jesus!” he screamed when he clocked you out the corner of his eyes. He fell backward, spilling through the open bathroom door behind him.

Startled, Siouxsie went running outside. You watched her leap from the deck and cross the gravel road, disappearing under your trailer. Turning back to Eddie, you watched him get to his feet. He wore blue and white checked cotton boxer shorts and nothing else.

“What were you doing with my cat?” you asked him, only briefly making eye contact before letting your gaze travel to his sketchy tattoos and D.I.Y. pick necklace.

“Uh… She woke me up. Tried to break in,” he answered, his voice cracking with sleep and nerves. And, oh fuck, was he nervous. “Guess she’s a… cat burglar?”

Eddie looked at you, the way that lights from the park backlit you like an angel. You were in a black dress that fell around your feet. The hem was ratty from where it dragged behind you wherever you went. Bracelets and rings and necklaces adorned your body, and your nails were painted Barbie pink.

“She woke you?”

“Yeah… The scratching…” Eddie went to explain, but couldn’t describe how the sound was in his head, then was real. Your expression filled him with dismay; had he said something wrong? It was the joke. He shouldn’t have made the joke. The joke was bad.

He stood still and silent, watching you look him up and down. Suddenly aware of his near nakedness, he blushed hard. You took note.

“You just moved here,” he said, needing the quiet to be filled.

You cocked your head to the side, taking his sentence as a statement and not a question. He knew the answer.

“I’m Eddie,” he introduced, holding a hand out. He looked down at his arm, confused as to why he was being so formal, operating on autopilot.

Eddie watched your hand take his, gently shake and not let go. You said your name, followed by, “Siouxsie likes you. Put a bowl of salt next to your bed to stop the nightmares.” You were gone then.

In the morning, he couldn’t remember watching you walk back to your trailer.

Jesus fucking Christ. You were definitely a witch. And he was obsessed.

Alright, there it is. Feedback and literally any interaction with this post would be incredibly helpful and heartwarming lmao. I'm excited about this one!

While I've got you, one chapter left of Vintage Reeboks. Make sure you're up to date. xo Rhi

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson Fanfic #Eddie Munson Fanfiction #Stranger Things #Stranger Things Fanfic #Witch!Reader #Eddie Munson x Witch!Reader #Mine

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samwinchestersbf · 1 year

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{ The Ghost of Beacon }

Chapter 1. "Do you really believe in ghosts?"

A RWBY x reader

warnings: small language, maybe ooc?

small authors note: I just created this idea on a whim, I am open to criticism. The gender neutral reader will be using they/them so anyone is welcomed to read. I apologize for any spelling/grammar errors in advance, I also have a small concept on how tumblr works beware! Please enjoy :) More chapters to come. (This takes place along with the original storyline with a few tweaks. I might toss in some romance when the time comes but who knows.)

Short Summary: The ghost of Beacon was thought to be a legend however with the recent spikes of activity, the school has grown unsure. The students with no idea of the story behind it all have determination to find out...

Reblogs are appreciated!!<3

WHY IS IT KINDA LONG OML SORRY 🙏

At first it was...difficult to come to terms with your death in the first couple of years. It's not like anyone noticed anyways, with all the speculation and lies.

Your days passed by very quick to say the least, you grew bored of it all. You craved to have fun if you were going to be a ghost trapped forever, right? Especially with new fresh students coming in.

Now here you were, amongst them all without their knowledge. These new students definitely piqued your interest, as did the last ones but there was something about them. You couldn't put your finger on it, perhaps it was just their behavior so you brushed it off.

You were too stuck in your thoughts to hear the headmaster's speech, along with his colleague. "Are there any questions?" He asked smoothly before taking another sip from his mug.

"Yeah...uhm sir?" You turned your attention to the timid blonde boy before he was cut off. "Good! Now take your positions." You let out a simple laugh and observed the group of teens ready themselves, the boy not aware of what was about to happen. "Uh sir...I've got a question" He still raised his hand.

Students were being flung into the air and he was still on rambling with his question as Professor Ozpin answered calmly. You walked over to him, "Good luck" You whispered into his ear before he was being launched at full force.

"My bets are on the energetic redhead" You tried to joke before realizing again no one can hear your remarks. You watched the collective group in the air, giggling a bit to yourself.

Professor Oz and Glynda pulling out their scrolls to watch on the surveillance system. "Hey! Let me get a peek" You tried to watch over Glynda's shoulder, she let out a little shiver. "Sorry, just let me see real quick" You attempted to take it before the tablet swung out of her grasp, her eyes widening.

You were able to see the students landing strategies before she scoffed, picking up the tablet from the ground. "Slippery fingers I see." Ozpin let out his own remark. "Oh shush, I don't even know how that happened." Her tone a little irritated. She walked off to go somewhere more private to observe.

You were a little shocked to say the least from your power. You didn't know you could do that? You decided to try again on the headmaster, you swatted at his mug, yet nothing happened. "Maybe if I- aha!" You hit the mug as he was about to take a sip, a majority of the drink spilling on him, before the mug took a tumble to the ground.

Glynda looked over her shoulder as she was walking away, "Now you've got slippery fingers" She mocked him, he seemed amused with his furrowed eyebrows. He glanced down at the mess, "Ignore that please." You bursted out in a laughing fit, feeling satisfied you now have the power over objects.

You recovered from your prank, thinking about it more now. If you were a stereotypical ghost, you could do much more than that. You could possibly try light tricks or even talking to someone finally. You yearned for conversation, sure you loved to be alone but you wished deep down for someone to hear your opinions and jokes.

You just wanted someone to know you were there, you wanted to be noticed.

You stood there, ruminating to yourself. It's not like Ozpin could see you, if anything he thought he was alone.

Soon enough Glynda spoke up again after quite some time, walking up to him. "Our last pair has been formed sir," She continued on swiping the scroll to a different perspective. "Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren...poor boy, I can't possibly imagine those two getting along." You peered over her shoulder watching Nora be quite silly.

"They seem alright to me." You muttered, Glynda turned to Ozpin. "What did you say?" He looked up from his scroll, a look of confusion on his face. "I didn't say anything." He cocked an eyebrow before Glynda returned back to watching with a small eye roll following. So you could talk to people, if you really tried of course.

"But still, he's probably better off than Miss Nikos." Ozpin replied with a small hum. "I don't care what his transcripts say, that Jaune fellow is not ready for this level of combat."

You wondered for a bit, it was possible to forge your way into any academy. You've seen it happen before besides no school is perfect.

Glynda put away her scroll, "I guess we'll find out soon enough" which in this case meant they were going to be finishing soon, you did want to test tricks on the new students. It'll maybe finally give you your own entertainment instead of listening and watching.

The collected woman walked off yet again, "At their current pace they should reach the temple just in a few minutes." She turned a little, she was truly a professional woman. As if you always knew that's who she's always been.

"Speaking of which; what did you use as relics this year?" She turned her full attention to him and called out his name again. He seemed too focused on his scroll, watching the kids from earlier have an argument. You believe he heard her because all he let out was another responsive hum.

He always did this, his little hums. Anyone was lucky if they had a full conversation with him.

All of a sudden you started to feel an intense pain in your stomach and throat, if ghosts could even feel a phantom kind of pain. You fell to your knees, trying to scream for help except not a single word came out. You coughed into your hand, pulling away to see your transparent hand stained with blood.

Get up. Get up. Get up

You blacked out and went dormant before waking up in a new scenery. You were in the academy now? You were still on the ground and quickly returning on your feet. An overwhelming confusion as you finally calmed down, realizing the pain beforehand was completely gone.

You woke up in that secluded spot you would go to clear your mind, a special place to your heart. It was dark outside and you could hear a faint commotion of people down the corridor.

You walked down there, walking through the door as you saw a sea of people surrounding the stage with four new students and Professor Ozpin. Everything must be over now, he's giving the new teams publicly.

"Oh shit, I missed all the fun." You sighed in defeat, still trying to figure out how that could've happened. You listened to Ozpin, making your way through the people to hop on stage.

"Looks like things are shaping out to be an...interesting year" He turned around, walking right through you. "Ow! You know that hurts right?" You hissed holding your stomach but he didn't notice.

He entered off stage as the girls and crowd cheered. You were obviously quick to follow right behind him.

He exited the room, Glynda waiting outside for him to talk to him. "I want to talk about what happened earlier today." He stopped in his tracks, and looked down at her. "Earlier?" He questioned before she took a breath in, "Earlier today, what happened wasn't ordinary. Stuff just doesn't come flying out of our hands and there wasn't any wind if I recall."

He raised an eyebrow before clicking his tounge to speak. "Yes that was quite odd but-" he was going to dismiss it all before a couple of students came to talk to him, surrounding him and Glynda. He politely answered some of their questions.

You saw the new team RWBY come out of the room, they seem to be having fun so you decided to follow them. They were chatting and walking to their brand new dorm.

After a while they finally made it there and you decided it was time to do what you originally wanted to do. Everyone was about to head to bed anyways so it was perfect for you.

The students said their goodnights to each other and were fast to fall asleep, now was the time to strike.

You went to team JNPR's dorm, knocking on their door and frantically shaking the door handle. "I'm coming..." Jaune's tired voice croaked before opening the door to absolutely nothing.

"Oh?" He looked down the halls with no sign of people whatsoever.

You decided to do it again every random hour of the night and you would follow him all day tomorrow to torment him.

The next morning he came off as very tired, explaining what happened and how no one has that much dedication to a joke like that. He believed it was a ghost, he was practically accusing you without knowing your name.

"Jaune cmon, maybe you were just restless all night from homesickness" Nora commented, she definitely had a heavy sleep effortlessly. Her friend Lie Ren was meditating on his bed.

He snapped his eyes open and whipped his head, drawing his teammates attention. He glared down where you were standing specifically, he must be able to tell you're there. He stopped before realizing he couldn't see you and apologized to them, "I thought I could sense something.."

Nora tilted her head and questioned the situation to the two boys "Do you really believe in ghosts?"

Jaune nodded desperately, "If it wasn't a ghost then it was most likely a student" Pyrrha suggested. "No it wasn't, I would've caught them!" Jaune rubbed his eyes, you did feel a little sorry.

"Then you should talk to Professor Ozpin about it later today" Ren replied, he was back to his calm meditation. The rest of the team agreed before you all heard team RWBY speeding out of their dormitory.

The four kids peeked out, falling onto the ground and catching up with the other team.

Hopefully this year would be interesting.

#rwby #rwby x reader #rwby vol 1 #rwby fanfiction #rwby fanfic #x reader #fanfic #professor ozpin #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xio long #ghost reader

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wrestlersownmyheart · 27 days

Text

"Her Outlaw Hero" (Sons Of Anarchy-Chibs Chapter fic) Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the Original Characters in this story. I am only using Kurt Sutter's characters from Sons of Anarchy. He created the characters and the show—I am in no way taking any credit for his creations. This story is for entertainment only. Content/Warnings: Violence against both men and women including rape. Summary:

Adelaide Watson is fleeing Tennessee—on the run from her violent past.

When she has a car accident on a lonely road in Charming, California, she has no choice but to walk to town for help. But help comes to her instead. In a very unexpected way.

Chapter 3

Adelaide parked her Nissan Versa in the alley behind the house of her best friend, Angela McSands. Gingerly getting out of the car while also trying to calm her swimming head, she tried to hurry toward Angela's back door and then proceeded to pound on it.

"Angie! Angie, please open the door—it's Addy!" She pounded as loudly as she could with her fists, and then with the palms of her hands till they both stung. "Angela!" Oh, God, please let her be home, she prayed.

The door opened suddenly and Angela emerged clad in a terrycloth bathrobe, her short, blond hair still wet from an apparent shower. "Oh, my God—Addy! What hap-" Her gaze raked quickly over Adelaide's slender frame and took in every detail. Her best friend's temple had a goose egg, a bruise marred the alabaster skin of her cheek, and her lip was split. And that was only what she was able to see. There was no telling what injuries Liam Walker had bestowed Adelaide with underneath her clothes. "It was Liam, wasn't it?" She gently tugged her unsteady friend into her house. "Come inside. Let's get you cleaned up and into some…" She trailed off when she fully took in the state of Adelaide's ripped and disheveled clothing. There was no denying what had happened. "Oh, Addy… I'm so sorry…" She hugged her friend close and stroked her dark hair, then led her into the living room. "Come on, honey. Let's get you to the hospital. They'll need to do a rape kit."

"No," Adelaide whispered, as Angela led her into the living room. She sank weakly down onto the sofa. "He's a cop, Angie. He'll get away with it. Then he'll kill me."

"But, there's proof, Addy. Your clothes, the cuts and bruises, his DNA…"

"He'll turn it around somehow. That is, if he's still alive."

"What do you mean," Angela asked, sitting down beside her and brushing some tangled hair out of Adelaide's face.

"He was raping me, and I… I tried to fight him off. I was feeling for a weapon to use and I was able to grab my heavy fruit bowl." She shuddered before continuing. "I hit him on the head with it—several times. I don't even know if he's alive. If he's dead, I'm in even deeper trouble."

"No, honey," her friend tried to convince her. "If he's dead, then you can explain it as self-defense…"

"You don't get it," Adelaide cried, wrapping her arms around herself. "They're his friends! They won't believe a word I say! They'll think I murdered him!"

Angela was silent for a moment and let this sink in. Maybe she's right, she thought. If she's this terrified, there's a reason. "Okay," she finally said. "You need to get out of here, and soon. Go get a shower so your appearance doesn't get noticed and raise questions. Then you're going to take one of my cars and get out of town—far away from here."

"But what about my car? If Liam sees it parked here, he'll hurt you—"

"I'll drive it into the river. Don't worry. It'll look like you drowned. He'll never know."

Tears filled Adelaide's blue eyes again. "We may never see each other again."

Angela nodded sadly. "I know. But your safety has to come first. That's what matters most to me."

Adelaide sniffled and wiped at her tears. "And yours matters most to me."

"I'll be fine," Angela assured her, placing her hand over Adelaide's. "Like I said, I'll take care of your car. If Liam thinks your dead, he's got no reason to do anything to me. Okay? So go get yourself cleaned up and I'll get you some fresh clothes together."

About twenty minutes later, Adelaide was showered and wearing a pair of jeans, a black WWE t-shirt and sneakers. Angela handed her a key to her old Jeep, a small suitcase of clothes along with a pocket knife, and then proceeded to press many paper bills into her hand. "And take this too."

"No, Angie. It's bad enough you're giving me one of your cars. I have money. I stopped at an ATM before I came-"

"Hon, I could care less about the money. It's only a few hundred dollars, but it could help get you out of a bind. I'll sleep a lot better knowing I've done everything I can to help you."

Adelaide swallowed hard and smiled sadly at her best friend. "I would never have made it without you."

"Oh, yes you would've," Angela contradicted her, her green eyes filling with tears. "You're stronger than you realize, Addy. You're going to be fine, honey. Now get out of here, and start living again."

"I'm going to miss you," Adelaide said, hugging her friend close. "So much."

"I'll miss you too, but I'll take comfort in knowing you're alive," Angela replied, returning Adelaide's hug.

"Be sure and get my cell number out of your contacts," Adelaide warned. "I left my cell phone behind and if you call it, Liam will realize you know something."

Angela nodded, "I'll take care of it right now."

Minutes later, Adelaide was pulling out of Angela's garage and began heading for Interstate 40 West, tears streaming down her face.

00000000

A loud curse echoed throughout the MC's clubhouse. Juice rubbed his shaved head for the third time in one game of pool. "You're gonna take my head off if you keep jumpin' the cue ball like that," Juice shouted at Rat. "What are ya trying to pull, bro?"

"I was just trying a new trick is all, settle down, Juicey," Rat grumbled as he picked the cue ball up from the floor and put it back on the pool table.

"How about ya play the right way, and then I'll settle down," Juice retorted.

"No, how about the two of ya quit bickering like a couple of little girlies," Chibs asked from the bar. "I can't hear myself think!"

The two smaller men each mumbled something unintelligible under their breath but resumed their game in a quieter manner.

Daisy, Tig's pet pit bull he rescued from a dog fight, scratched at the club's front door and whined for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past half hour.

"What's with her," Happy asked, draining his beer bottle.

"I don't know," Tig replied thoughtfully. "I just took her out to use the bathroom, and she took a long piss, so I'm totally clueless."

"Maybe she's constipated," Chucky suggested, wiping down the bar. He blushed when he noticed everyone staring at him. "I mean… Ya know… It's a possibility."

"Shut up and grab me another beer, Chucky," Happy ordered.

"I accept that," Chucky murmured, grabbing another bottle of brew from the cooler.

At that moment, Quinn returned from a repossession and opened the door to enter the club house, and Daisy took that instant to flee.

"Daisy," Tig yelled. "Come back, girl!" He shot up from his seat and bolted for the door. Sticking his head out, he was distraught when he discovered the dog had completely vanished. "I've gotta find her. Chibs…help me out, brother?"

"Ah, come on," Chibs groaned. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Drive the van," Tig suggested, his vivid blue eyes pleading with his friend. "I can't very well bring her back on my bike, and she gets nervous in a vehicle. Someone needs to drive while I keep her calm."

"Mother Mary," Chibs growled as he pulled the keys to the club's van from his vest pocket and put on his sunglasses. "Let's go get this over with." The two men hurried out to the van and pulled out onto the road.

"Did you see what direction she went," Chibs asked Tig.

"No. Not really. DAISY! WHERE ARE YA, BABY," he shouted.

Chibs cursed and looked at his friend as if he were crazy. "Do you really think-"

Tig shushed him and yelled for Daisy again. To Chibs' utter surprise, he could hear the dog barking in the distance.

"That way! Go," Tig hooted, happy to have an idea of where his dog was. "I know my girl, Chibby! Follow that bark!"

Rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses, Chibs turned the van in the direction the dog's barks came from and they drove down the road, keeping their eyes peeled for Tig's pit bull.

000000000

Adelaide touched a hand to her head as another wave of dizziness came over her. She groaned softly at the pain and struggled to keep her eyes open.

"At least I'm just on an empty old dirt road," she reasoned with herself. If I come across some traffic, I'll have to pull over until this dizziness passes.

In the next instant, she was aware of opening her eyes and discovered she was in the wrong lane. Reflexively, she jerked the wheel back into the right lane and breathed a shuddering sigh. Realizing she was briefly losing consciousness, she rolled her window down the rest of the way in hopes of getting some more air. The California heat was stifling and the old Jeep's air-conditioner had long ago kicked the bucket.

"I need water," she thought out loud, realizing she must be severely dehydrated.

She couldn't even remember her last sip of liquid or bite of food, or sleep for that matter. She'd been in such a hurry to get away from Nashville, she drove for two days strait. She'd been too frightened to pull over and close her eyes, afraid that Liam—or someone affiliated with him—would capture her when she was at her most vulnerable.

Suddenly, Adelaide realized she was coming too again, and prepared to jerk the wheel into the appropriate lane once more. But too late, she saw a telephone pole looming just ahead of her. A hard collision followed, along with the sound of breaking glass and grating metal. If not for the airbag deploying, she would have smacked hard into the steering wheel. Her head was spared yet another trauma, but her ribs weren't. The airbag's tautened material slammed into her hard, and she heard a very audible cracking sound as a burning pain shot up and down her side. The car slammed to a stop and she gasped and sobbed as another agonizing stab of pain sucker punched her.

"Oh….my God…" she wheezed out, shocked by the sudden pain.

She grasped the key and turned it in the ignition, and the engine tried to turn over but didn't manage it. Adelaide tried a couple more times, but gave up on it when it became clear the car was not going to start. She grabbed the small pocket knife Angela gave her and somehow managed the strength to open her door and feebly climb out of the Jeep. Her legs wouldn't hold her, however, and she sank to her knees.

"Get up," she ordered herself, teeth clenched. "You don't have time to fall apart. Not yet."

Shakily, she held onto the car for support as she stood to her feet. I have to get to a mechanic and see if they'll tow the Jeep and repair it, she thought. And then I need a hotel where I can get some sleep, or I'm going to end up killing myself and possibly some innocent people.

Slowly, she began her long walk down the road, in hopes of finding a mechanic that would help her out.

00000000

Chibs continued driving down the road as Tig leaned out the passenger side window calling for Daisy.

"I think we've lost her, brother," Chibs said softly, aware of how much the dog meant to his friend. "I haven't heard her bark in several minutes."

"She's here, I know it," Tig insisted, and then he pointed at what looked to be a dark-haired woman up ahead of them. "Look, there's someone walking down the road. Pull up beside them. Maybe they've seen her."

Skeptical, but humoring his friend, Chibs pulled up beside a woman walking at the side of the road. "Hey lady, have ya by any chance seen a white pit bull around here," Chibs asked. "My friend's lost his dog and we thought she'd headed this way."

The young woman seemed to be startled by his inquiry but she turned to glance in his direction, the sun catching on her icy blue eyes, "Y-yeah… I did," she replied softly. "She w-went up th-that way…" She motioned behind her with a wave of her hand.

"Thanks," Tig called from the passenger side. "Let's go, Chibs!"

"Just a sec," the Scotsman muttered under his breath. Something wasn't right. The woman was moving very slowly and he'd noticed bruising on her pale face. "Are you alright, lady? Do you need a ride somewhere?"

The woman seemed to jump out of her skin again, and shook her head without paying him even a glance. "No, thank y-you. I-I'm fine."

"Ya sure? It's an awfully hot day to be walking a long distance," he pressed, noting her jean-clad legs. The black t-shirt can't help matters either, he thought, recalling how hot the club's black clothing could get in the heat of the California sun. "I can give you a lift somewhere if ya want."

"No," the woman answered curtly, without even looking up and kept walking gingerly in the other direction.

Chibs sensed Tig was about to set out on foot himself to go retrieve his dog. So, feeling conflicted, he drove on, in search of Daisy.

Minutes later, and a few miles down the road, they spotted an older model Jeep wrecked against a telephone pole.

"Wow," Tig said, "That's one busted up Jeep. Do you think it belongs to the woman we passed a few miles back?"

"That would be my guess," Chibs replied grimly. "She's got to be hurt. I saw some bruises on her face, and-" He cut off when he noticed Daisy sitting dutifully by the Jeep. "What the…?"

"She was trying to lead us to her," Tig commented. "She somehow knew what happened to that woman."

"I think you're giving your dog a little too much credit," Chibs said skeptically.

"How else would you explain it," Tig asked.

Chibs pulled to a stop next to the vacated car, his black eyes flashing, "I don't know. Get your dog and then we're gonna go help the woman."

Tig climbed out of the van and approached Daisy, "Come on, girl," he coaxed. "Come back with me, baby. We're gonna go help the lady. Come on." He led the apprehensive dog back to the van and then lifted her up and settled her on his lap once he climbed into the passenger seat."

In the next instant, Chibs pulled a sharp U-turn and headed back for the dark-haired stranger.

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Tagging:

@mrsfilipchibstelford @ravennaortiz

#sons of anarchy #chibs telford #sons of anarchy fic #chibs imagine #chibs x oc

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cami-stuffs · 7 months

Text

Pushing Towards You

Chapter 3: Hot Chocolate and Blue Eyes

"My Goodness, Gaia Rivera! Such a pleasure to meet you again." Larissa shook Gaia's hand with a broad smile on her face.

"Who would say, Larissa Weems the headmaster of the Academy?" Gaia replied.

"When the deputy said you were occupying our post as a Botany Teacher, I was thrilled. I recall you saying you would return to Nevermore after graduation." Larissa remembered. "And with whom you are here?...Oh...Hey, Calista! What a surprise!" Larissa startled.

"Hi, Larissa. Such a long time. You seem great." Calista waved her. "Oh, and this is our daughter, Ártemis. She's a Nevermore freshman now." Calista held Ártemis' arm.

"Daughter? Wow...I didn't even know you two were married." Her smile slightly faded ."...Oh, never mind. Hello, darling, welcome to Nevermore." Larissa extended her hand to Ártemis.

Calista could tell her daughter was amazed by the principal. Her height, blue eyes, and blondeness almost matched Ártemis herself.

"Hello, Principal Weems. Nice to meet you." Ártemis shook Larissa's hand with clouded eyes.

"Likewise. Seat down, please." Larissa showed the chairs in front of her desk. "Gaia, I'm deeply sorry I couldn't interview you. First, I was hospitalized, and then, when I recovered, I decided to leave on small vacations. I was disconnected from the world this past week. No phones, no e-mails." Larissa said, rounding the table and sitting in her armchair.

*"That's why she never replied to my message."* Calista thought.

"Oh...That's OK. To be true, we partly heard the story from the delivery boy last night. Something about a bear and the mayor's death, right?" Gaia enquired Larissa. "He said the school was attacked too, and the principal was hurt."

"Yeah...Well, to be short, yes. The whole story is more complex than that, but we can go that way later." She said, clapping her hands. "So, tell me. I can presume you won't be living with us here, at the Academy, as you prefer to live with your family in the city, right?" Larissa said to Gaia.

The Principal was avoiding Calista's eyes. Even during their greeting, Larissa didn't look properly at her. Calista was embarrassed, yes, by the sudden presence of the headmaster. But she missed those deep blue eyes and was longing for them.

"Oh no...Calista and I are divorced. She is here to support Ártemis." Gaia explained, and a little red flush appeared on her cheek.

"And you...I am here to support you both." Calista hurried to correct her ex-wife.

"Yeah...Well, the fact is that Ártemis and I are going to live here at the school. Calista is going back to North Carolina when the new terms begin." The redness grew darker now.

Larissa was looking from Gaia to Calista. For the latter, she was trying to understand the dynamics. Thankfully, Ártemis was there, staring at the Principal with her bright blue eyes, certainly seeking more similarities between them. That wouldn't go unnoticed by Calista and Larissa. Gaia was the only one there unaware of her daughter's behavior.

"So, Ártemis, since you will be staying with us, I'll let you choose where you wanna live. Your mothers..." Now she landed her eyes in Calista, rapidly changing to Gaia. "... were from different halls. And we have available rooms in both. What would you like to have?" Larissa asked Ártemis.

Ártemis looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Where did you stay, Ms.Weems, back in your day?" She nicely requested.

"I was in Ophelia's Hall." The blond beamed.

"That's it. I choose the same hall as yours, then." The girl uttered.

"Ophelia's Hall it should be," Larissa stated. "And Gaia, Ms. Rivera," She corrected herself. "you will be at the staff hall, of course. Shall I present them for you?" She said, getting up from the armchair.

Larissa led the delegation with Gaia at her side, talking about the classes. Ártemis followed, looking around with dumbfounded eyes. Calista stayed at the end of the line, following from behind. She already knew the facility and was now more interested in observing Larissa. The woman seemed unchanged, but still, something was different. The way Larissa swayed her hips while walking in heels, making that simple body movement look almost sinful, was the same as when she was young. Added to that, Larissa looked more confident, mature, and wiser. Which turned out to be even sexier, and that was what Calista was afraid of. Larissa and all her previous wonderfulness translated into experience. Age suited her very well, Calista might admit.

"Here it is, Ártemis, your room. I'm afraid you won't have a roommate for now." Larissa showed the empty place. "You can bring your belongings anytime in the next two weeks. Your fellows will arrive a week before the beginning of the academic year. So you can stay here or with your mum, at Jericho, until there."

"What do you think, Mumma C?" Ártemis asked Calista. Larissa smiled gently at the endearment.

"Well...Who am I to deprive a girl of having her own space in a new and unexplored school?" Calista said, looking from Ártemis to Gaia and then Larissa. "You should stay if you want. I'll be here until the start of the classes. We can meet anytime. Jericho is not far away." Calista caressed her daughter's shoulder.

"Great. You'll be fine here, I assure you." Larissa said fondly to the girl. "Now, let's see your room, Gaia."

The staff hall was nothing compared to the students'. It was like a tiny apartment. The room was generously sized, allowing subdivisions. Calista had never entered that hall before, and she imagined that all that space would come in handy once the staff lived there for a whole year.

"Wow... I figure you'll have enough space for all your plants, huh?" Calista said with a smile to Gaia. "Just the way you like it."

"You're damn right, girl!" Gaia answered with an enlarged grin.

At that moment, Calista caught Larissa's eyes, and the other woman hushed to look elsewhere.

"So, would you like to see the greenhouse?" Larissa addressed to Gaia.

"Yeah...sure. Let's go, Temis. Let's see where I will make you cry." Gaia said, teasing the girl, who raised her eyebrows.

"Ohhh...they are just kidding," Calista said, waving her hand in the air when Larissa widened her eyes. "aren't you?"

"Yeah...yeah, of course," Gaia smirked.

Once at the greenhouse, Gaia showed every corner to Ártemis she could remember. This time, Calista stayed behind with Larissa.

"Wife and daughter, huh?" The blond said with crossed arms and maintaining the haze on the other two.

"Ex-wife and daughter, yes. Time flies." Calista answered.

"I didn't know you were so fond of Gaia at school." Larissa looked down.

"I wasn't. Actually, after school, we weren't in touch until School Reunion. We've met again that day." Calista looked up to Larissa, and the woman was now looking at her.

"We slept together that night, and the next day you left me. I woke up, and you weren't there," Larissa said resentfully.

"You were never mine to be left. And you made it crystal clear that night. So in the morning, I was waiting for my taxi to come, and Gaia was outside, lurking around, of course." Calista recalled that night with a kind smile. "We had a small talk and exchanged phone numbers; in a nutshell, that is it.

Larissa was about to refute Calista when Ártemis approached them. "Hey, mumma C, I'm hungry. Let's go have lunch at the Weathervane."

"Sure, my little precious. Does mumma G want to come?" At that, Larissa lifted an eyebrow with a side glance. Calista ignored that; they were married and had a daughter together.

"She said she is not hungry. Which is odd, because she is always hungry. I guess she touched too many plants, and they fed her or something." Ártemis said, shrugging. "Would you want to come with us, Ms. Weems? We'll have to come back here anyway, to pick up Mumma G." The girl asked hopefully. She wasn't much lower than Larissa, and their blue eyes seemed an extension of each other.

At that point, Larissa looked to Calista, asking for silent permission. After all, she was the intruder, and their last conversation clarified that Calista was still hurt about their last encounter.

"It would be a pleasure if you could join us," Calista said, reassuring Larissa and herself.

"Okay, then. It feels like ages since I don't go to The Weathervane. They had a delicious hot chocolate. The best I've tasted." She said.

Ártemis came to a halt and put her hand on Larissa's arm. "Do you like hot chocolate too?" She asked with a wide-open eye.

"Oh, yes, darling. It's my favorite. I guess your mother knew that!" She said, staring at Calista.

"It may have slipped my mind," Calista said. "Let's go, shall we?" Now, she led the other two, avoiding their glares and possible questions.

Now that it was mentioned, Calista indeed knew Larissa's favorite beverage. They have spent a lot of free afternoons at the café by themselves and surrounded by friends. Calista was becoming keen on the similarities between Larissa and Ártemis. It is not that the idea didn't cross her mind before, but now it is dancing in front of her face.

Lunch at The Weathervane was smooth. Larissa and Ártemis were getting along with each other. The girl now found her new superhero and the older woman, a person who sees her as much more than the strict Principal of the Nevermore Academy. Calista was there, observing the interaction between them. She feared Larissa would reject Ártemis after the school reunion because of Calista's disappearance. On the contrary, Larissa seemed enchanted by the girl. They were planning a picnic for the next week on the road back to the school.

"Here we are," Calista said, parking in front of the school. "Temis, my precious girl, could you go inside and collect your mumma G? She can't feed from plants for too long. Soon, she would be ravenous, and we don't want her like that, right?" Calista said, turning around to the back seat.

"Sure we don't! Come right back." She said, leaving the car and entering the school.

Calista and Larissa were now alone for the first time in 22 years. Larissa was the first to talk.

"I guess we'll see each other for the next three weeks." She said, looking for some reaction in Calista's face.

"Indeed. As you can see, my daughter can be very persuasive and talkative." She said with a soft smile, first looking deep into those blue eyes.

"She is a sweet girl. She reminds me of you. " Larissa said with a grin.

"Of me? She is nothing like me. She is tall, with blue eyes and blond." Calista enumerated.

"I'm not talking about physical characteristics. I'm talking about her sweetness. She is attentive, sensitive, and tender. The way she talks to you and Gaia is lovely. Especially to you. You two seem pretty close." Larissa said, turning her body towards Calista. Now, they were facing one another.

"We are very close. She is my best friend. My precious little thing. Well, not so little." She chuckled.

"Yeah...She is not little." Larissa smile. After a moment of silence, Larisa was the one to break the tension. "I guess we should talk. Properly, I mean. Me and you. About all those years of misunderstanding and non-said words."

"I guess we should. Let's just settle Gaia and Ártemis here, at the school. And then, we'll find some time to have this conversation. I'm sure you know my priority here is my daughter." Calista said with a fading smile.

"Yes, I know. Let's do it on your own time. But I want this to happen before your return to North Carolina." Larissa pointed out.

"Deal. We'll manage to talk before I leave." Calista reassures Larissa.

"Well, this is my cue. Bye, Ms. Rivera. See you tomorrow. " She said playfully.

"It's Cos'Anto. I didn't take Gaia's name, and she didn't take mine. Ártemis has both last names." Calista corrected the blond.

"Such an open-minded. I liked it." Larissa mocked her while leaving the car. Calista was left with a silly smile. "Bye, Ártemis. By, Gaia. See you tomorrow. Have a lovely evening." Calista heard Larissa say.

"Oooh... Let's go home. I'm starving!" Gaia signed as soon as she entered the car.

"Told you...!" Calista said, looking at Ártemis through the rearview. She started the engine and left Nevermore grounds, thinking about returning the next day.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

#larissa weems #larissa weems x ofc #original character #f/f fanfic #lesbian fic #wedneday #wlw #gwendoline christie #calista cosanto #pushing towards you series #lesbian smut fic #lesbian #sapphic #principal larissa weems

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madsworld15 · 17 days

Text

I Am Still Right Here Chapter 2 Part 4 (Brian x Justin, QAF, Support Group AU)

I have uploaded all of Chapter 1 on AO3.

You can find Part 1 of Chapter 2 here and Part 2 here and Part 3 here.

This is the final part of Chapter 2 I will be posting it in its entirety on AO3 later on today.

As always, I wouldn't be here today writing for the QAF fandom if it weren't for the support of @winderlylandchime @maryp50 and @lostcol

Enjoy the end of this story!

One Month Later

Brian felt like shit. Not the “oh my stomach kinda hurts” kind of shit, but the “death would be better than this” kind. Ever since his scan had come back showing that the cancer had spread, Brian’s doctor had been much more aggressive with treatments. He was now lucky if he managed to make it into the office 2 days out of 5. If he thought radiation treatment was bad, it had nothing on the hell chemo put his body through.

He’d finished his chemo treatment for the day and had every intention of going back to his loft and passing the fuck out for a few hours. But, the nausea and body aches had hit him almost immediately after leaving the hospital. So, instead, he had told his cab driver to take him to the Bloom Gallery. Justin was working a full shift today since his school was on a three-day weekend. He figured he could grab Justin from work and get him to come back to his loft with him. Brian wouldn’t say it out loud, but the way he was feeling right now had him terrified of being alone.

“Hey, Bri.” Lindsay greeted him the minute he stumbled through the door. “Are you sure you should be out and about in your condition?”

Brian adjusted the face mask he now wore when out in public to protect himself. “Fuck you, Lindsay.” Brian gasped, already out of breath from the short walk.

“Seriously, you look like shit.” Lindsay came over to him and helped guide him to a nearby chair.

“I’m on the chemo diet. I heard it’s all the rage for cancer patients.” Brian quipped, looking sideways up at one of his oldest friends.

“Besides,” Brian grimaced at the pain shooting up from his joints. “I came to see Justin.”

Just as the words left his mouth, Justin came from the back carrying a large canvas. He saw Brian and immediately put it down against the nearest wall and rushed over.

“Brian! What are you doing here? You should be home. Resting.” Justin’s hands roamed along the planes of Brian’s face and his upper body before Justin’s eyes met Brian’s gaze.

“I realized…” Brian stopped to catch his breath again. Then he gave Lindsay a pointed look. Justin nodded in understanding. He stood up straight and faced the blonde woman.

“Hey, Linds, could you go get Brian a glass of water?” Justin asked, giving her his best pleading look.

“Of course!” Lindsay practically hopped into action.

Once she was gone, Brian crumpled against Justin, who was back to kneeling in front of him. “I realized I didn’t want to be alone. I know you are working, but could you…” Brian looked up at Justin, who nodded.

When Lindsay returned, Brian was breathing better, and Justin had called a new cab to take them to Brian’s loft. Brian accepted the glass of water, moved his mask, and took a big drink.

“Hey, Lindsay. I know I said I could work the whole day, and by leaving, I put you in a bit of a bind, but I think I should help Brian home and get him settled.”

For good measure, Brian protested, “Justin. No. Stay at work. I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You couldn’t even make it all the way home. You came here.” Justin fixed Brian with a meaningful glance.

“Of course, Justin. I will be fine. The next gallery opening isn’t until next week. We have time.” Lindsay gave them both a smile and sent them on their way.

Brian had honestly expected more pushback from Lindsay on the matter but wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She had given Justin the day off with no fuss; he would take that win any day. On the cab ride over to his loft, Brian leaned against Justin’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He was so tired.

Before he knew it, Justin was nudging him awake and helping him out of the cab. The blond handed the cab driver a handful of bills and told him thanks. Brian’s bed couldn’t greet him soon enough. As soon as Justin slid the door to the loft open, Brian was slowly walking over to it, stripping as he went. Justin followed him shortly after with a bottle of water and some ibuprofen, just in case. Brian was almost half asleep by the time he lay down. Justin sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his thigh.

“Get some rest. I will be right here if you need me.” Justin moved his hand up to stroke Brian’s hair.

“Stay with me,” Brian mumbled, his eyelids feeling heavy.

“Yeah, I’ll be over on the couch drawing,” Justin whispered, still stroking Brian’s hair.

Brian nuzzled into Justin’s touch. “No, stay here with me.” And so, Justin did.

Brian fell asleep, curled up against Justin as he lay with his back propped up and his sketchpad on his lap. When he woke up sometime later, Justin was still in the same spot drawing away. Brian sat up enough to put his head onto Justin’s shoulder. He felt the smile creeping on his face as he and Justin lay there in silence, just existing together. Brian loved watching Justin make art. He nuzzled into Justin’s neck and gave him a kiss.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Justin brought his drawing hand up and cupped Brian’s cheek without turning away from his sketch pad.

Brian nodded sleepily. He was about to wrap his arm around Justin’s torso when his stomach lurched. He got up from the bed quickly and managed to get to the bathroom just in time to vomit everything in his stomach. Justin followed him a few minutes later, he had an open can of ginger ale in his hand.

“I figured you could use this.” Justin smiled and handed over the can.

Brian moved away from the toilet and leaned against the shower wall. He took a sip, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.

“This chemo shit sucks.” Brian finally muttered.

Justin plopped down on the floor next to him. “Yeah, I figured it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. Let’s just hope it helps.”

“If my cancer continues to spread after all this, I’m going to kill myself.” Brian scoffed, taking another sip of ginger ale.

Justin ran his fingers through Brian’s hair and came back with some of it. Brian’s eyes landed on the strands in Justin’s hand. With a sigh, Brian shrugged. His eyes stung with unshed tears. He knew the chemo was going to kill his hair, causing it to fall out. But, the reality of it was still hard to bear. Brian loved his looks, and now his outside finally matched the sickness that had been raging on the inside for months.

“There goes the last bit of me.” Brian muttered. He knew Justin wouldn’t understand, but he needed to say it.

“Your hair will grow back.” Justin pointed out. Bless this young, blond man for his insane amounts of optimism, even in the face of weakness and death.

Brian scoffed, pulling himself up off the floor. “But my reputation will never recover.”

He shuffled back to his bed and crawled back in it, under the covers. Justin didn’t say anything, but Brian hadn’t expected he would. There was a reason he’d asked Justin to be here with him instead of someone like Michael or Lindsay. Brian didn’t need someone who would continue to placate him after he’d made it clear the point was moot. He needed someone who would understand enough to let him sit in his feelings however long he needed to.

Justin was about to rejoin him on the bed when someone knocked on the door. He leaned over to place a kiss on Brian’s cheek and then went to check the door.

“I’ll go see who it is, and send them away,” Justin whispered alongside his kiss.

Brian couldn’t do much more than nod, his body already on the verge of falling asleep. A few minutes later, Justin was back. Instead of getting on the bed, he came around to Brian’s side and kneeled down so they could be face-to-face.

“I tried to send them away, but she’s insisting on seeing you. She said she didn’t care if her son’s assistant said no. She would be the judge of his condition herself.” Justin whispered, placing a hand on Brian’s arm in support.

“Fuck.” Brian groaned, turning his head into his pillow. What the fuck was his mother doing here?

“Go tell Saint Joan I’ll be out shortly and offer her a drink,” Brian mumbled, not taking his face out of his pillow. Justin squeezed his arm before departing. The thought of his mother alone sent a new wave of nausea through his body.

Brian took a deep breath and crawled out of bed. He hadn’t wanted to tell his mother that he had cancer, but there was no way she’d see him today and not figure it out. He might as well rip the bandaid off. Brian slowly made his way across his loft to the kitchen. His mother stood there awkwardly, looking around at all his designer fixtures, a judgmental look on her face.

“Brian!” Her face lit up the minute she saw him. “I went by your office, and they said you were out sick. I knew it couldn’t be good if you called out of work.”

Brian went to the fridge and grabbed a cold can of ginger ale. Then he went to the cupboard and grabbed himself a glass. Only then did he stop right next to Justin and face his mother.

“So, I have cancer.” Brian decided the ripping the bandaid off approach was probably best.

Justin reached over and grabbed Brian’s hand. He wanted desperately to allow him, but his mom didn’t know he was gay. He figured one bombshell was enough. He didn’t want to be responsible for his mom’s sudden heart attack over that. But she must’ve seen the movement anyway.

“It’s a sin.” She gave him a stern look, much like she used to when he was a kid and had pissed off his dad in some way. “God punishes those who act immorally.”

“So, you think I have cancer because I like to fuck guys?” Brian scoffed. “Gee, thanks, mom. I always look forward to our chats.”

“Mrs. Kinney,” Justin spoke up.

“Justin.” Brian grabbed his hand and subtly shook his head. “I got this.”

“It’s not too late.” Joan continued as if Brian and Justin weren’t even there. “God still loves you. You can still change.”

Brian started to see red. It was one thing for his mother to force him into taking her to church a few Sundays a month, but it was another to spout her rhetoric at him while he was battling cancer.

“You have to fight temptation. Stay strong. Harden yourself.” Joan gave Brian more of her religious bullshit.

“I would love to harden myself, Mom. God, I would much rather be hard so I can fuck every hot guy I see. Instead, I get to puke my guts out and wonder if my body will ever stop hurting.” Brian spat at her in return. After he felt a little dizzy so he sat on a stool and closed his eyes.

“I think you should leave.” Brian heard Justin say. For once, he was grateful that he didn’t have to face down Joan Kinney alone. By the time Brian was able to fight off the dizzy spell and open his eyes, they were alone once more.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Brian mumbled as Justin stepped into his personal space and wrapped him in his arms.

“Me? What about you? She basically said God gave you cancer because you’re gay.” Justin exclaimed.

“It’s not as though I haven’t thought it before.” Brian got up and moved out of Justin’s touch, back toward his bed once more.

A few minutes later, Justin joined him on the bed. “Do you really think that?”

Brian rolled his head into his pillow for a moment before turning back to Justin, giving him an answer.

“You try to avoid it, spending multiple Sundays a month escorting your mom to church while during the week, your body is being put through hell just to survive.” Brian’s eyes met Justin’s in the most vulnerable move Brian has ever made in his life.

Justin didn’t respond. Instead, he wrapped Brian up in his arms and hugged him tight.

“Your cancer isn’t a punishment for you being gay. I hope you know that.”

Brian traced shapes onto Justin’s arms as they lay there in comfortable silence. It usually took him ages to get out of the negative headspace his mom always put him in. And yet, Justin managed to get him there in less than thirty minutes. He realized then that he always wanted Justin around. For the good parts and the bad.

“Move in with me,” Brian whispered against Justin’s temple.

“What?” Justin turned so that they could look at each other.

“I know we’ve only known each other a few months, but I like it when you are here. And when you aren’t, I wouldn’t exactly mind it if you were.”

One Year Later

Brian shuffled around the kitchen making coffee to go and putting the finishing touches on his outfit. He was trying to tie his tie and eat some toast when a pair of hands wrapped around his chest and took over. Brian smiled to himself, around the toast, and turned to face the owner of the arms.

Justin smiled at him, moving his arms from Brian’s chest up to his neck and pulling him closer for a kiss. They both deepen the exchange, almost forgetting about the coffee being made until the coffee maker goes off.

“I would love to stay here and keep doing this, but I’m going to be late for my meeting with Brown Athletics.” Brian smiled against Justin’s lips as he placed another quick kiss there.

“First day back after getting a clean bill of health. How does it feel?” Justin grinned.

“Like a million bucks.” Brian handed Justin his own to-go mug of coffee. “What time is your gallery event tonight?”

“Seven, but you don’t have to come.” Justin looked down at his feet and shrugged.

Brian gripped his chin and lifted it back up so they made eye contact once again. “You're showing your art. Of course, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The two grabbed what they needed and left the loft together. On the elevator, Brian leaned over and kissed Justin again.

“Besides, Emmett would murder me if I didn’t come.”

“Yeah, he really would.” Justin laughed. “He might seem mild-mannered on the surface, but don’t piss off a gay Southerner.”

“I would hate to find out what his Aunt Lula might’ve taught him about getting revenge,” Brian smirked. The two climbed into Brian’s Jeep, and he drove off toward Justin’s job.

Pulling up outside the Bloom Gallery, they were met by Lindsay, who was holding onto Gus’ hand.

“Hey, Justin! Excited about tonight?” Lindsay smiled as she opened the back door of Brian’s Jeep and put Gus up into his booster seat.

Once Justin was out of the front seat, Lindsay leaned through the window to talk to Brian.

“Please drive carefully. Melanie will come and get him around 4.” Lindsay looked toward Gus and blew him a kiss. “Thank you again for doing this. I know you have that important meeting today.”

“Don’t worry about it. Sonny Boy and I are going to have a blast. Isn’t that right?” Brian looked in the review mirror at Gus, who threw him a thumbs-up.

“Okay. Call if you need anything.” Lindsay worried her lip, looking between Brian and Gus.

“I’ll be fine. I’m 100% healthy and want to spend more time with my son. Besides, he loves Ted, not sure why.” Brian shrugged and waved Lindsay off before he turned the Jeep back on and threw the gear into drive.

Later that night, Brian was dressed in his nicest Armani dress pants and button-down. It was open at the collar, showing off a bit of his chest. He had a glass of water in his hand. There were at least a hundred people milling about the gallery, all looking at the various pieces of artwork available. Brian hung back and just watched. He tucked his lips in and smiled as he made eye contact with Justin across the room.

It blew his mind to think a year and a half ago, Justin wouldn’t have been able to even walk through that door. Much less mingle with a hundred people, most of them strangers. Justin had come a long way since the first night they met. Now, he was out almost every night hanging out with Daphne or Emmett or joining Brian at Babylon, which he bought for himself as a “congratulations for beating cancer” present. Things were so different, and yet Brian still felt compelled to watch over Justin and protect him from himself.

It didn't escape Brian's notice that Justin's support group leader and his friend from the group, Margaret, were both in attendance tonight. Brian's heart swelled with pride, knowing that Justin had more people than ever before rooting for him to succeed. Even his mom had shown up to lend her support, though Brian couldn't currently locate her.

With that thought, Brian strode across the hall and swung his arm around Justin’s chest from behind. He brought his lips to Justin’s ear and whispered.

“Who created that abstract painting with all the blues and reds and greys? The one that looks like Emmett’s street at night.”

Justin grinned and turned in Brian’s arms. “I wasn’t sure you’d understand it. I wanted it to be vague enough that anyone could buy it but specific enough that if you or I saw it, we’d remember.”

“I put a bid on it. It’ll look great in my office.” Brian leaned his forehead against Justin’s and smiled into a kiss.

Then he leaned forward and whispered, “Do you think anyone will miss you if I take you to the studio and show my appreciation?”

“Brian! We’re in public!” Justin leaned back. But his mouth was in the biggest smile of his life, and his eyes were alight with excitement. “As long as we are quick.”

“Alright, we can wait til later. I’d much rather take my time. Paint a canvas of my own.” Brian looked at Justin as if he hung the moon. Which in Brian’s world, he had. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.

“Sounds perfect.” Justin smiled as he pulled Brian in for another searing kiss.

#queer as folk #brian kinney #justin taylor #fanfiction #brian x justin #alternate universe #support group au

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