#in front of my parents without clearing it with me prior

[brynnmclean]

I have feelings about this that feel so complicated that I can't even articulate them properly, but my younger siblings collectively outed me as non-binary to my parents ages ago and no one told me outright. Thank GOD I have a therapy call tomorrow, huh.

[beomiracles]

CONGRATS FOR 500!! so well deserved!

for your bash i’m thinking about something emogyu coded cuz i can’t live without it so…

tattooartist!beomgyu x reader

where reader is lowkey really scared like they’re literally trembling while entering his salon because they never got tattoos before! and in such a place (i see some sluty tattoo on their lower back)

but beomgyu seeing this can’t help but smooth their nerves by talking and reassuring aand… sneaking some not really sneaky touches here and there :’)) and rest i’ll leave for you to continue…

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... as someone with tattoos (who definitely had a crush on her tattoo artist at the ripe age of 17) this was right up my alley ! and I've been meaning to get a tramp stamp myself to add to my collection sooooo hehe

wc -> 1.8K

pairings tattoo artist! beomgyu x afab!reader warnings mentions of needles, reader is really pristine and gets her first tattoo, Beomgyu is a little handsy, slightly suggestive but nothing crazy at all!

the urge to turn this into something more in the future y'all

Gosh, what were you thinking? – A tattoo? What on earth would your parents think when you came over for the holidays? Not to mention, the pain. You had such a low pain tolerance it was almost ridiculous. Despite it all, you pushed the door to the salon open and stepped inside. 

The studio was small; covered head to toe in posters of inked up men and women, wearing nothing but skimpy clothing – your cheeks reddened at the sight. Music was playing from an old radio, the artist was unfamiliar but the heavy beat perfectly lined up with your racing heart. You bite your lip as you consider turning back, there was still time…But then the door to what you assumed to be the small staff room, opened; and through it came one of the most gorgeous men you had ever laid your eyes on. 

He was perhaps everything your parents would’ve forbidden your teenage self from ever getting acquainted with. Long dark hair, matching the smoked out eyeshadow around his piercing eyes, a metal ring going through the center of his full bottom lip; not to mention the several ink designs adorning his neck and arms. You swallow a gulp as you shamelessly ogle the man in front of you, not noticing how he tilted his head, a smirk creeping its way to his pierced lips. 

“1:30?” He asks as he watches the way your gaze snaps from his chest to his eyes. You blink, confused, as you fumble for words. “I uh…what?” You meekly squeak out, feeling the color on your cheeks intensifying by the second. The man’s smirk widens, “you the one who booked the appointment for 1:30?” – “Oh, y-yeah that’s me..” you mumble as you clear your throat rather awkwardly. 

He offers his hand and you notice the tattoos adorning his finger as well. “Beomgyu”, he says as you take his hand. After exchanging formalities, he guides you over to the stretcher at the back of the salon; it reminds you of the ones hospitals usually keep. Bringing out your phone, you begin pulling up the designs you had carefully chosen weeks prior. “You gotten a tattoo done before?” he asks as he watches your pink acrylics tap against the screen. 

You shake your head as you give him a sheepish smile. “Never.” Once more your mind wanders to your parents, your mom especially, what would she say? – Your family wasn’t exactly orthodox, but the subject of tattoos and other bodily modifications was sort of an unspoken rule. And even though you were now an adult, free to make your own decisions regarding your own body, the ways of your upbringing were still rooted in the back of your mind. 

Beomgyu doesn’t look surprised as he studies your nervous frame, his gaze stopping at your hands, timidly fiddling with your phone case. “You nervous?” His question was more of a statement but you give him a small nod, “yeah.” He smirks, “it’s quite natural, don’t worry, I know what I’m doing, love.” The small wink he sends you doesn’t go unnoticed as you stutter out a small o-of course, your eyes flitting down to your phone in order to avoid his intense gaze. 

“So whatcha lookin’ to get?” He asks as he brings out a moveable table, containing what you could only assume to be the tools he used for his works. Your eyes widen as you eye the sharp needles with dread. You nervously bite your lip, “w-well, I was thinking something on…on my lower back.” Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow in your direction, seemingly intrigued by your bold choice of placement for your first tattoo. 

“And you’ve got some designs for me I presume?” Nodding you show him the multiple pictures you had saved on your phone. His inked finger swipes through them as he studies them closely. “You got a favorite?” he asks, his eyes not leaving the screen. You shake your head, “I was thinking I’d do whatever you think will suit me best…” you mumble as your gaze flickers between your phone and him. Beomgyu hums as he stops on a picture of a butterfly. You follow his gaze and he nods to himself before handing your phone back, “I think you’ll absolutely rock that one, love.” 

His words of assurance made you feel confident in your decision and you eagerly nod as Beomgyu leaves to print out the design. – The two of you spent another fifteen minutes discussing placement as you held up your shirt for Beomgyu to place the paper against your skin. The feeling of his hands on your waist as he explained what would look best made your heart flutter in an unexplainable way. 

With your back facing the mirror, your hands awkwardly rest on Beomgyu’s chest as you turn your head to study the design. His inked hands moving across your hips, fingers brushing against your lower back as he talks you through the healing process. Swallowing – your eyes drift to the way his arms drape around you before moving to his face. You watch the way his lips move as he speaks, the slight frown of his brows as he focuses on getting your tattoo right. 

Then through the glass of the mirror, your eyes meet his. The smirk he flashes you is enough to tell you that he can sense the nerves radiating off of you, and perhaps even the tinge of attraction flowing through your veins. “You ready?” He asks without letting go of your hips, biting your lip, you slowly nod. 

Upon laying down on the stretcher, your attention shifts entirely to controlling your labored breathing as you anticipate the sting of the harsh needles. Somewhere behind you, you can make out the sound of Beomgyu pulling on latex gloves and before you know it he’s next to you, sitting down on a movable chair as he plugs in the sharp tool which makes a jarring noise. 

Screwing your eyes shut, you bite down on your bottom lip, preparing for the sting. But it never comes, instead you feel Beomgyu’s hand on your hip as he massages the flesh gently. “Relax”, he murmurs and you can feel his gaze on you, “it’ll hurt less if you do.” Nodding as best as you can, you do as he says; drawing in a deep breath through your nose before letting it out through your lips. 

The pain wasn’t as bad as you thought it would have been. While it did initially sting in an almost unbearable way, it quickly simmered down to a light burning sensation. Beomgyu had told you that the whole process would take about an hour – though he managed to keep your mind occupied with questions about yourself. 

“What’s mom and dad gon’ say about this one?” He asks as he dabs the irritated skin with a piece of paper before continuing. You huff out a small breath of air at the mention of your parents. “They won’t be happy.” – “Why?” He wonders and you think of a way to properly answer. “Well they’re…strict, I suppose.” You say as a small frown crosses your features, “but, I’m old enough to decide on my own. I guess I just wished they would be a little more accepting?” It felt a little weird, opening up about your parents like that to someone you had known less than an hour but Beomgyu hums understandingly behind you. 

“They are your parents, probably only want what’s good for you. I bet they’ll come around.” He says as he dabs the paper against your tattoo once more. You nod, “hopefully.” Beomgyu remains silent for a moment, the sound of the needle working its way through your skin filling the studio, the radio having gone silent half an hour earlier. “And your boyfriend?” he suddenly asks. – “I…I don’t have one..” you quietly mumble, thankful that you were facing the opposite direction as your cheeks flushed with color. 

“Really?” Beomgyu asks in a surprised tone, though you can sense the smugness lingering behind his words. “How come?” – “Such a pristine girl as yourself, thought you were bound to be taken”, he then adds and when you turn your head to look at him, you find a small smirk tugging at his lips. 

“I guess…I don’t know. Maybe I just haven’t found the right one yet…” you bite your lip as you hesitantly peek at his expression only to find him already looking at you. “And who’s the right one?” He asks as his gaze returns to your lower back. “Someone my parents wouldn’t approve of”, you state and Beomgyu raises an eyebrow without looking up from your tattoo, as if expecting you to elaborate. – “It’s silly…but I, I’ve often thought about bringing home someone I know they wouldn’t like, just because I would want to show them that there’s more to people than just their appearance I suppose…does that sound weird?” You hesitantly ask as your eyes focus on the way his lips stretches into a smirk. “Not at all.” 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you crane your neck to watch the way Beomgyu’s hand moves across your back; fascinated with the way the design was coming to life on your skin. Noticing you stare Beomgyu gives you a quick glance, “doesn’t hurt that bad, no?” – You shake your head as a small grin finds its way to your lips, “no, not at all.” 

An hour passes and soon the ink is completely engraved in your skin. Bunching your shirt up, you skip over to the mirror to admire the butterfly on your back with wide eyes. “I love it”, you breathe as your gaze travels along the tattoo, marveling at how well it complemented your skin.

Beomgyu comes up behind you as he, too, studies his work. “Told you, you would rock it.” He murmurs as he kneels down behind you. Startled by his sudden movement you turn around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on your hips. “Stay still”, he mutters and you immediately comply as your gaze returns to the mirror in front of you. 

Carefully, he wraps a thin layer of plastic over the inked design, making sure to flatten it out with the palm of his hand before dragging it across your stomach. You hold your breath as you watch the way his painted fingers move across your lower abdomen, his touches perhaps lingering a little longer than needed, but you didn’t mind. When he stands up, his chest is almost pressed against your back and you swallow a gulp. 

“You look wonderful, love.” He mumbles as one of his hands finds yours. – He opens your palm for him to place a small note in, your gaze follows the small movement as you frown. Upon opening the paper you realize that it’s a number, presumingly his. Your wide eyes travel back up to his as your lips part in an unspoken question. 

“If you ever consider getting another tattoo”, he smirks. 

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[thefanficmonster]

Piss off your parents pt.3 (finale)

PART 1

PART 2

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing

Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Time wasted can only be compensated with time well spent.

"You wasted us so much time."

Y/N's reply is so far from anything he could've expected, he nearly sprains his neck when his head snaps up. To find a small smile on her face, of all things.

"What?"

There's a note of deep-rooted anger in the laugh that deflates her lungs, "How long?"

"Huh?"

"How long have you felt that way?" She doubles down, her gaze now stiffened into a glare piercing right through him.

"Since we fucking met, ok?!" He'd be less nervous answering questions in front of the FBI. He doesn't know how the script flipped to her being the angry one but it's clear she's gonna let him have it. And he's gonna have to take it, he owes it to her.

"I can't fucking believe you." She shakes her head, shifting to back further away from him and lean her back against the cold mirror behind her. She'd rather hop off the counter and run off - that's what sober her would do, anyway. But, for one, her drunk alter ego is a lot more confrontational, and for two - she physically can't do that. Somewhere along the past ten minutes, Colby somehow ended up standing between her parted legs, blocking her the ability to run away without even meaning to. "You've kept me at arm's length for a whole fucking decade! Treating me like a child, a porcelain doll you feel obligated to look out for! You broke my heart so ignorantly by sleeping around with half the damn town and bragged to me about it! You pushed me into brainwashing myself in love with someone else, led me to believe he felt the same way and now you have the gull to say you were in love with me all along! Bullshit!"

Hellfire, she's showering him with utter hellfire. Each thing she listed got worse than the previous just when he expected it couldn't. It unlocked so many memories he made a vow to never again visit. That was such a low point in his life he didn't notice he had dragged one of his best friends into it as well. Well she's spelling it out for him right here, right now. Loud and fucking clear.

"And to think I was in love with you throughout all of that...fuck, I'm stupid..." She adds in a whisper, highly contrasting the rain of bullets she unleashed seconds prior. It was meant more for herself than him yet it was the final blow for him. His heart is officially down for the count.

"Was? Past tense?" Colby's eyes widen immediately. He didn't hear the words in his brain, they were as news to his ears as they were to hers. He doesn't know where the audacity came from. It's as if he's asking to get smacked. At this point, he'd prefer that to whatever venom she might spew at him. All well within her right.

To his luck, Y/N's gotten tired. Physically and emotionally. And she can't keep the grudge flame alive. Not with Colby at least. She can't help the soft spot on her heart for him. A spot so bruised and sore she can't believe it hasn't turned stiff as stone. It can't, not when her heart starts racing within his proximity every damn time. Not when a smile spreads across her face every time she looks at him. It hurts, yeah, but she doubts it'll ever go away.

"Like it fucking matters." She whispers, again with the same bitterness from earlier.

"Yes it fucking does, Y/N." It's like his brain has been shut off, all rationality has gone out the window. "You said I wasted us so much time. Don't waste more just because you're angry."

She's quick to bite back, "How can I not be? You deserve it, Colby!"

"I know that!" He might not be rational, bordering on desperate, but he's still self aware enough to see and admit to the error of his ways. But he'll be damned if he lets go of this last string of hope. He's clinging onto it like a twig in a flood. "I know I deserve it. But we don't. What we could be, that doesn't deserve more time down the drain, Y/N."

Sudden banging on the door startles them both, reminding them they're in a very peculiar location. A public bathroom. The ladies' bathroom on top of all.

"One second!" Contrasting the deer-in-headlights panic on Colby's face, Y/N takes it upon herself to handle the situation. The sound has scared him into backing away from her, giving her the required space to hop down. She turns to him, poking a finger to his chest, "Act normal. Nothing happened."

With that said, she leads the way out, unlocking the door and slipping out, giving the two girls waiting outside an apologetic smile. They return two knowing smirks when they see Colby emerge from the bathroom right behind her.

"Sorry, girl. Didn't mean to interrupt." The brunette slurs, winking at them both before following after her friend.

"You're good." Y/N replies politely, muttering after the door closed, "You helped."

The pang in Colby's chest cannot be put into words. Before he's had time to recalibrate, she's already gone, having made her way back into the party, disappearing into the crowd.

And just like that, he feels that last string of hope break.

* * * * *

"Hey, I'm so sorry about what I said earlier." Nate shakes the strands of hair away from his eyes so can properly look down at his semi-sober companion who's currently carrying him towards the elevator.

Y/N can't help but smile at him. It hurts like hell but at this point it's like the twentieth blow to the heart tonight. She's become used to it.

"It's ok, Nate. Thanks for being honest and not leading me on." She's aware she's thanking him for the bare minimum but that little conversation with Colby earlier proved to her she should be grateful for that even. Hey, he could've lied. He could've stringed her along, had his fun and then pulled the 'nothing serious' card.

But that's not Nate. He could never.

You thought Colby would never lie to you either. Now here we are

"No, that's not what I mean. I got scared, you know? Friend groups don't survive romance. But I don't care now that I think about it. We should give it a shot. It could be great. Fuck what they think." His words are slurred and his eyes are glazed over, but each syllable is drowning in sincerity. Drunk words are sober thoughts and all that but she'd rather take it as complete nonsense right now.

"Nate, sweetie..." She readjusts the hold she has on her heels so she can grab hold of his hand, "I doubt you know what you're thinking right now. Let's talk in the morning, ok? Get some sleep, sober up, and then we'll figure it out. Sounds good?" She says gently, as if explaining to a three-year-old that Santa isn't real.

He gives her one of those smiles that were the initial reason she (thought she) fell for him, "Yeah." They stop at the door to his shared hotel room with Sam and Colby. Before she can reach for the doorknob, Nate turns to her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. She momentarily lets herself play along and leans into his touch, knowing how wrong it actually is. "You're the best, Y/N." Their faces, almost instinctively, inch closer and she doesn't do anything to stop it. Fuck all rationality. This night can't get much worse, how bad could a kiss shared between friends be?

She never gets to find out though because the door to the room is thrown open, forcing them apart in an instant. The person standing on the doorstep makes it ten time worse - because of-fucking-course it's Colby.

Y/N immediately starts regretting what almost just happened, semi-glad it didn't. She shouldn't have let it get that far. She's doing to Nate what she was thankful he didn't do to her - stringing him along. She can barely recognize herself - almost kissing one of her best friends while being completely in love with another.

"Oh, um....sorry. I wanted to come help carry Nate up but.....guess you got that covered." He speaks up, trying to cut the awkwardness him and Y/N are currently drowning in. Nate is none the wiser, waving off his friend's apology with a quick 'don't worry about it'. He gives one last squeeze to her hand before going inside, leaving the two staring at each other.

"Is Sam ok?" Y/N asks, cocking her head to the side to take a peek inside the room where she can see Sam's shoes at the foot of the bed. "That fall was pretty bad."

"Yeah, he's fine." Colby sighs heavily, looking over his shoulder at the blonde in question, "Should've stopped climbing on tables like he has nine lives long ago. This might be the lesson he needed."

"Hey!" She frowns at him, "Have some compassion!"

He chuckles, opening his mouth to respond when a sudden yell cuts him off.

"Y/N? That you? Come in!" It's Sam, his voice conveying the pain he's currently in.

She knows she should be heading back down to the front desk to grab her key and go to her own room. But she can't just leave her friend on 'read' in real life and at such a dire time.

So, despite her better judgement, she goes inside to find Nate already out like a light and Sam laying flat on his bed with an arm over his eyes.

"Hi Sammy. Partied a little too hard there, dude." Y/N smiles softly at him, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Sam removes his arm from his face, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes, "Am I gonna die?"

Simultaneously both her and Colby snort out a laugh, sharing a look of mutual understanding and amusement before she returns her attention to the wounded soldier, "You won't. I promise. Just go to sleep." She replies reassuringly, readjusting the ice pack Colby had placed on his knee, causing him to hiss but still nod.

"Stay here for the night?" He asks, almost pleadingly. This interaction is a good insight on the siblingship they have. Colby and Nate have always been variables to her, but luckily she has Sam to be her constant.

"Where am I gonna sleep, Sam?" She asks lightheartedly, looking around the room at the two already occupied beds and the couch by the window.

"There." Sam points at said couch where Y/N can see some trademark Colby clothes splayed around. That's his little nook, clearly.

"And where's Colby gonna sleep?" She laughs, shooting Colby a soft look to find him already staring at her with the same gentleness she's always felt emanating from his eyes.

"The floor." Sam says with no hesitation, causing you both to laugh.

Colby is quick to flip him off, "Fuck you, man."

All he gets in response is a soft snore, alerting them that Sam too has drifted off. Probably for the best cause that scrape on his knee doesn't look pleasant.

And suddenly, they feel like they're alone. Sure, there are two other people present but a canon firing wouldn't be efficient in waking them up. So, they're practically alone.

Neither of them is happy about it.

"Really though, you should stay. What are you gonna do alone in your room?" Colby breaks the brief silence as he awkwardly struts across the room to subtly clean up the mess he's made on the couch.

Y/N shrugs, "Watch TV, drink some more, snack on something, pass out. The usual." She shrugs, carefully getting up so she doesn't nudge Sam out of his slumber.

"You can do all that here....with some company." He offers, cautious about every word that comes out of his mouth. "We don't have to talk about anything. Just raid the minibar and snack tray."

They should talk, they both know it. They're aware that they're at an age where they are considered adults. And adults talk about difficult shit even when they don't want to. They do what should be done.

Not Y/N and Colby, though.

They've cracked open a bottle of rosé and a bag of Cheetos and are currently sitting in silence. A comfortable one, for a change. They've quietly agreed to have this moment be outside the realm of everything else that occurred tonight. Like an island in a stormy sea. There will come a time when they'll have to talk about it, but most definitely not tonight.

Unless...

"Remember the first time we got drunk together?" She asks, watching the pink liquid splashing around in her glass.

Colby snorts at the memory, or whatever he can recall of it. "Barely."

"Yeah, same." She laughs, downing the rest of her wine, "I remember you disappearing for a good portion of the night. Sam and I found you bruised and bloodied hours later."

He joins her in the reminiscing, "That rose bush really did a number on me."

She takes a moment to look him in the eyes. She stays quiet, analyzing him in a way that heats up his skin as though her gaze were a physical force, "You didn't actually fall in a rose bush, did you?"

Ah, there's another lie. A small one in comparison to the first but still a lie. And since it's a night of confessions..."Remember Austin?"

He just unlocked a forgotten part of her brain, "Oh shit yeah! Whatever happened to that guy?"

A dry chuckle rattles his chest, his hand coming up to rub his face, "Well, in short, he liked you a little too much for my liking. So he found out what happens when I'm jealous and drunk."

Y/N can't help but smile. She's a simple girl, of course she finds it hot. But she'll be damned if she lets him notice. She quickly masks it with a joke, "Oh my God, you killed him!"

He laughs, shaking his head before leaning towards her a bit as if he's about to spill some government secrets, "Full disclosure, between you and me..." His eyebrows lift, waiting for her to nod a vow of silence before continuing, "I got my ass kicked."

She busts out laughing, undermining all concern for her two sleeping friends, "I'm not surprised." She teases him, reaching for the bottle for a refill.

Colby doesn't let that happen though. He quickly snatches the bottle, keeping it out of her reach, "Excuse you?!"

"You can't be salty after admitting it yourself." For caution purposes, she sets down the glass before getting up on her knees, extending her arm in a futile attempt at retrieving the stolen item. To her dismay, he just stretches his arm further, making it that much harder. "Oh, fuck you..." she mutters, hovering herself over his lap precariously, putting them in a pretty compromising position.

Colby kicks it into high gear, freeing his hand by setting the bottle down so he can sit her in his lap with a slight tug, earning him a small gasp from her. She settles into him just perfectly, like this is far from the first time they've found each other in such predicament.

Their faces are inches apart. His hands are on her sides, hers are on his shoulders. The proximity is more intoxicating than the alcohol they've consumed throughout the night. They are high on each other and are just now realizing it. Or just now admitting it.

"I thought we weren't gonna talk about it." She whispers, afraid of breaking the thin veil of tranquility currently surrounding them.

"We're not talking about it." His tone mimics hers as though he's afraid he'll scare her off. His grip on her is gentle but firm. It'll physically hurt if he tries to force himself to let go of her.

Luckily he doesn't have to because, before either of them know it, their lips collide.

The innocence of the kiss is brief and gone within seconds. Hands start roaming, breaths are shared, lines are crossed. And, technically, they aren't talking about it. But still, plenty is being said. A decade of pent up emotion is coming to fruition. It's nothing short of passionate, desperate almost.

Right on-brand for them.

* * * * *

"Hi."

"Hi."

They're fully clothed, cuddled up on the couch and alone in the room. Not all lines were crossed last night of fear they might regret it in the morning. However, if their smiles are anything to go by, nothing is being regretted.

Neither of them attempts to move from their comfortable little bubble. Neither of them cares that Nate and Sam probably witnessed this sight when they woke up. Neither of them tries checking the time. It's their way of trying to make the moment last longer into infinity.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Colby breaks the silence, threading his fingers through her hair.

Her ear is directly over his heart, listening to its steady rhythm she finds so much comfort in, "Just that I can't even lie right. I tell my mom one lie and it ends up becoming true."

Laughter vibrates throughout his chest, sending waves through her body as well, "Is this you asking me out?"

"Do you want it to be?" Y/N shrugs, tilting her head to look up at him.

He smirks down at her, "So much for rebelling, huh?"

"Shut up."

Knowing he won't do so on his own, she tends to the matter herself by pressing her lips to his, effectively shutting him up.

Tagging: @benbarnesprettygurl @beanredacted @m1tsk1l0v3er

[taestarii]

live - seonghwa

[seonghwa x reader]

genre! - angst, fluff at the end, hurt/comfort

synopsis! - Y/n continuously gets picked on by her family, even at a family gathering to let her parents meet her boyfriend

warning! - swearing, references to body (y/n is neither thick or thin she is how you imagine her, the mom is just a jealous almond mom dw), familial issues

first time writing seonghwa! let me know if you like this and want more ateez link to request page

"Y/n, are you alright?"

Seonghwa looked up from cleaning his glasses as your hands shook in the mirror. You tried to wipe away any imperfections in your makeup and cover up and with foundation. You already knew your sister was going to upstage anything you did without fail, she's been flawless all your life. You finally felt secure enough to let Seonghwa meet your family, and your mom informed you a few days prior your siblings would be joining.

Great.

"Yeah, I'm alright," you finished evening out your makeup and checked the time. "We gotta go soon.“ You gulped down the rest of your water to try and calm your racing heartbeat. Seonghwa wrapped his arms around the your waist and buried his head into your neck. "You look beautiful, love. You always do." You smiled and turned your head to kiss him. No matter how bad you felt, Seonghwa was always there to show you your worth. "Everything is going to be fine! You're family is gonna be great. Now let's get rolling." He smiled and grabbed your bag, placing a kiss on your cheek.

You smiled back weakly, but in truth, Seonghwa knew nothing about what your family was really like. That's why you were so hesitant about this dinner, but you knew the more you cancelled the less they believed he was real, that's just how much they doubted someone could actually like you.

You drove in almost complete silence with Seonghwa's hand on your thigh, running his thumb up and down as you rested your head in your hand. "I'm really excited to meet your parents, Y/n." You sighed and placed your hand in top of his. "I know you are." You glanced over at him and he was practically beaming. You prayed on his behalf that your family grew up.

-

Seonghwa pulled into the driveway of your childhood home and got out of the car. You sat and watched the light glimmer in the bay windows, the same windows that held so many of your emotions and memories. You got out of the car and held Seonghwa's hand as you walked up the front steps to the door. You already took note of your brother watching through the window so you figured he yelled to your mom that you were there.

"Shut your mouth!" You heard your mother yell behind the door, presumably to your father. Knowing him he was probably yelling over whatever sport was on, and your sister was probably fixing her appearance. Your mother swung the door open in one giant gesture with her arms spread, her signature smile painting her face. She quickly ushered you in and greeted Seonghwa.

"Hello, dear! It's so great to finally meet you." She wrapped her arms around him and he smiled, hugging her back. "Hi, mama." You said, stepping out from behind Seonghwa. She dismissed you with a smile and quickly rushed Seonghwa into the living room to meet your father. When you stepped into the room your father stood up, clearing his throat, and held out his hand. Seonghwa gently shook his hand with a slight bow and smilied. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Likewise." Your father nodded before turning back to the game. There was a small, awkward silence before your mother clapped her hands and turned to you. "Y/n, dear, my don't we leave the men to talk." Your grip tightened on Seonghwa's hand. He smiled down at you reassuringly and squeezed you hand. It's not like you were scared to be left alone with your mother, you just didn't want to leave Seonghwa, especially when he's with your dad. You let go of his hand and followed your mother into the kitchen, where your sister was sitting at the table on her phone.

"Oh my goodness, Y/n!!" Your sister let out an ear splitting screech. "It's been so long!" She wrapped her arms around you and made a big show of smelling you. "Gosh Y/n, where'd you get that perfume? You smell cheap." She twisted her face in disgust, when you knew for a fact you didn't smell bad. It was a pretty pricey perfume but nothing special, and one of your favorite sweet and flowery scents. Her face of disgust slowly turned into a half wicked grin and half smile. "Aww!" She took your face into her hands and studied you, you could feel her eyes studying your makeup. "Looks like someone tried!" She laughed and rather roughly let go of your face. Maybe it's because you haven't been doing makeup since you were old enough to talk to, or in her case, touch boys. You could feel tears already pricking your eyes, but you were prepared for this. You've dealed with this all of your life, your sister disguising her harsh worse through a sugar sweet tone was nothing compared to anything you've had to deal with for the first 18 years of your life.

-

Your brother had finally come down from his room and you all sat around the table while your mom got out all the food. "It smells great!" Seonghwa said as your mom brought out the meat. "Thank you, honey! I usually don't try this hard, but we have a special guest." Your father and brother were already shoving their food down their throats, not one word had even come out of your brother's mouth yet. You stood up from your seat to get some food when your mom stopped you and held her hand out in front of you for your plate. "What..?" She grabbed the plate from my hand and started filling it with childlike portions. "You're gaining a little weight sweetie, I just thought I should help you out." Worry crossed Seonghwa's face as your mother placed the food infront of you, your head hanging low. Seonghwa placed his hand on yours and shook his head, frowning. He have your hand a light squeeze before shooting a half, ingenuine, smile to your mother.

"So," your father cleared his throat, "you're a very good looking man. Well put together. What are you doing with Y/n?" The whole table laughed at his joke, but Seonghwa didn't seem to find it very funny. "She's a very beautiful and genuine person, what she feels is what she shows and I admire that." Your sister gave Seonghwa a look, eyeing him up and down. "How sweet." She deadpanned. Your father, under no popular demand, opened his mouth again. "And you, Y/n? How's your 'job' going."

"Well, thanks for asking," you spoke through gritted teeth. "Two of my art pieces sold at the exhibition for almost 26,000 dollars." Your father almost choked on his food. "Really? I would have never thought someone would spend money on something like that."

"You'd be surprised."

"What about you, Seonghwa? What do you do?" Your mother spoke. "Oh, I'm a surgeon," he said. "But I also dabble in the art business." Your sister's face lit up. "Surgeon, huh? You must make sooo much money." She spoke, dragging out almost all of her words and twisting hair around her finger. Seonghwa caught on to her gaze and quickly looked away. "I make enough." He said, growing increasingly uncomfortable with your sister's lustful gaze.

"Well my son here, he's a very successful man. He's going to take over the business someday. We're very proud of him." Your father boasted. For some reason, this is what broke you. "What business, dad? It's a fucking convenience store, not to mention he's a deadbeat loser that isn't gonna take over shit. How about you be proud of me for once? I work two fucking jobs, and still find time to paint." Your mother sighed and rolled her eyes. "Great, another one of her little outbursts." You laughed.

"Don't you fucking even, mom. All you've done since I've got here is brush me off and shame me, probably because your sad with your own miserable life because your old and dad isn't attracted to you anymore." That shut her up quickly. "And would you PLEASE stop eye-fucking my boyfriend." You called out you sister, who grew a sour look on her face. Your father slammed his fist down. "Enough, Y/n. You will sit down and eat, right now, you are being incredibly disrespectful." You balled up your fists as tears started to spill from your eyes. You had held it in for so long but now hot tears ran down your cheeks in pure anger. How could he call you disrespectful? For 18 years all he did was disrespect you, and the one time you finally have enough and snap, you get ridiculed.

"I don't think she will." You looked over to Seonghwa, who stood up from his chair. "Since she's gotten here all you've done is give her shit. I can't even imagine what she's had to endure growing up. So, either you will listen to what she has to say or you will shut up."  The pure look of shock and disgust on your father's face was so satisfying. "Where is this coming from, young man?"

"It's coming from me not appreciating you treating my very beautiful, talented and lovely girlfriend like shit. If anyone should be treated like that, it's you." Seonghwa grabbed your father our of his chair and held him by his collar. "Now apologize."

"I-I'm sorry, Y/n. Please!" Your father stuttered out, rubbing his hands together, pleading. You didn't think he would give in this easily, but Seonghwa practically towered over him.

"I don't think I can forgive you right now, or any of you." You spoke softly. The tears were starting to fill your eyes again as Seonghwa grabbed your hand. "We're leaving."

When you got to the car, Seonghwa held you close as you cried into him. It took a lot of courage and bottled up anger to finally blow up at your family, and Seonghwa knew that. Right now, his only worries were being there for you.

"I'm so sorry, baby. They're shitty people who don't see you the way they should. The way I see you. You're more beautiful than you could ever think, you're so talented and I'm so, so proud of you. I love you so much." He kissed the top of your head and held you as your cries slowly turned into sniffles.

"I love you so much."

-

link to request page

[fanfiction4sooya]

Make me yours

It was a mistake, Yunjin knew now. But it wasn’t on purpose, she was just sleepy and hungry and she didn’t think any paparazzi would be there at 1 am.

She ordered food for her since she was hungry and didn’t feel like cooking, Eunchae and Kazuha were out for the weekend visiting Eunchae’s parents and Chaewon was recording the reality show with Yena and the others; It was only Sakura and her at the dorm, but she was basically by herself since Sakura would always want to be left alone since that disastrous night of drunk confessions from Yunjin.

She heard the faint honk from the delivery guy. Since it was a warm night, she just put shoes on and went to pay and grab her food wearing jeans and the thinnest t shirt ever without a bra.

“Hi” She said warmly to the delivery guy, who just nodded his head and looked quickly to the side, not really looking at her. She frowned a bit, but didn’t really mind him.

“Card” He said, clearing his throat. He was beet red.

“What-” She was about to ask what was going on when she felt something lay on her shoulders, a jacket to be more precise.

“I am so sorry, please take this and keep the change” She heard Sakura’s voice before looking at her. The shortest one bowed and left, taking the food and a very confused Yunjin by the arm.

“Sakura, what the hell?” Yunjin said, eyes wide because of the older one’s action. “What was that for?” She backed down a bit, looking at the angry expression Sakura had.

“How can you be so reckless?” She almost screamed; Yunjin was still confused, kind of looking around. Sakura took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “Just look at yourself” She pointed to the mirror on the far end of the dorm’s living room. And that’s exactly what Yunjin did, eyes widening in shock when she realized.

“Oh” She covered her chest. Sakura scoffed.

“Right, ‘oh’ ” Yunjin was about to cry, panicking because of the many thoughts in her head. “You are lucky there were no paparazzi outside and you are even luckier that that guy wasn’t a pervert!” She massaged her temples, closing her eyes. “The thought of him even looking at you makes my blood boil” She opened her eyes to a teary eyed Yunjin.

“I am so sorry unnie, I didn’t mean to”

“You never mean anything Yunjin, that’s your problem” She replied sarcastically. She was enraged, her heart pounding in her chest, her mouth almost saying something she shouldn’t say.

“I get it, I made a mistake!” The taller girl said, exasperatedly. “But it was one mistake. I was just hungry, I didn’t think anything would happen or that anyone would be at our door” Tears were rolling down her face now, just the thought of upsetting the japanese woman again was enough to get her desperate.

“You didn’t mean, you didn’t think… always the same thing, the same excuse” Her tone was cold, but her eyes showed something different. They were angry, jealous… hurt. “I…” But she wouldn’t say a thing to Yunjin. She couldn’t. “I’m going to bed” She said, storming off.

Yunjin was left crying in the living room, her heart broken one more time over a drunken choice she had made almost three months prior. It was humiliating to say the least, the way Sakura simply shut her off, as if she didn’t even know her. In front of the cameras everything was perfectly fine, but whenever they would stop rolling, that was another story. Sakura never rejected her, no. But the silence, that cold and cutting silence, was somehow even worse.

Her legs were moving before her mind processed the whole thing, but soon she knew exactly what to do. She deserved something, to at least get rejected so she could finally move on. Anything would be better.

“I can’t be like this anymore” She pushed Sakura’s door, scaring the living shit out of her. “I can’t live pretending that this situation doesn’t hurt me” Her pleading eyes were almost enough to make Sakura crumble, but she wouldn’t let that happen.

“Get out of my room” Sakura said in the most stable way she could.

“Please, say something” Yunjin cried out. “Please, tell me you hate me, tell me I’m stupid and a fool for loving you but please, say something” She was basically sobbing now, clutching her chest. “If I ever knew I would lose your friendship and make you hate me like this I would’ve never ever said anything” She fell to the ground, her knees numb, weak.

And for the first time in months Sakura’s stone mask fell, revealing a much softer look. Her cold and distant eyes were replaced by soft and compassionate ones and the distance she tried so hard to maintain became closeness when she kneeled in front of the younger girl to get on her eye level.

“You don’t deserve to live like this” She said softly, holding Yunjin’s gaze.

“You are right, I don’t” Her voice was weak. “So yell at me, tell me to get out” She clutched Sakura’s shirt, pulling her close, contrary to what she was asking. “Reject me so I can move on from you” Sakura shook her head. “Why? If you don’t I’ll keep loving you from afar, that’s all I can do. If you don’t tell me to leave, I won’t. So just…” She was interrupted by a pair of lips on her own.

She blinked once, twice, and didn’t wake up. That was real and the Miyawaki Sakura had kissed her. So she kissed her back, tears and all. She was shaking so much that Sakura stopped the kiss and hugged her, petting her hair.

“I am so sorry” She said, to her ear.

“For kissing me?” Yunjin’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. Sakura pulled away enough to look into her eyes.

“No, not that” She shook her head. “For shutting you off, for pushing you away. For hurting you when in fact all I wanted to do was make you mine” She looked down.

“Then why? I don’t get it” Another tear rolled down on Yunjin’s face, Sakura caught it with her thumb, caressing her face gently.

“I was scared” Yunjin frowned, silently questioning. “Everybody knows I have been with women since my first debut” She said with a sigh, as if a weight was being lifted off her shoulders. “Everyone just pretends they forgot about it so they can keep loving me, you know?”

Tangled in each other, they were not even realizing they were still on the floor, that Yunjin was still clutching to the other’s shirt and that that was probably the most they have spoken in months. But Sakura was being brave now, and she wouldn’t stop for nothing in the world.

“If they find out about me with another woman, they’ll cast me out of the country and that ‘s it. I’ll go back to Japan and will probably be received with open arms like before; You? That would break you, take your dream away. I couldn’t let that happen, I had to protect you” She was still mindlessly caressing the younger’s face. “But it hurts too much to stay away from you” She whispered.

“I never asked for your protection,” Yunjin said, blinking sadly. “I just needed this, you. If you had talked to me I would’ve made the choice of staying or leaving and none of us would be this hurt” She put her forehead on Sakura’s, touching their noses. “I have no experience in the dating field, I know, but I’m pretty sure decisions should come from both of us.”

The japanese woman laughed softly, taking in Yunjin’s scent and body so close to hers. That perfume that never failed to make her go crazy, her braless tits so close to hers in that embrace. Seeing that gorgeous woman everyday and basically all day and not being able to do anything to her was definitely her punishment and personal hell.

“Why did you decide to go after me outside?” Yunjin pulled her out of those sudden dirty thoughts. She bit her lower lip, a tint of anger passing through her expression.

“You made me jealous” The palm of her hand stroked Yunjin’s face more firmly now.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I was watching you cross the garden from my window, just to check if you were okay” She glanced at the other’s thin t shirt, the jacket long gone from her shoulders. “I noticed you with no bra and well, let’s say I never ran that fast in my life”

“If I knew that not wearing a bra would set you off so much that you would willingly talk to me I would’ve done it sooner” She laughed, her eyes still shining from all the crying a few minutes before.

“Don’t even joke about that” Sakura said, pulling Yunjin by her nape, their lips almost touching. It was as if the atmosphere had made a whole 180º. Suddenly the so sweet and oh so composed Sakura was anything but. “You have no idea how jealous and protective of you I became after that night, even though it was wrong of me to be” She took a deep breath, letting go of the other’s nape.

“You did?” Yunjin’s cheeks were beet red with the thought of jealous Kkura. She felt an ego boost and well, let’s say that statement made something inside her heat up. “You don’t like thinking of anyone even looking at me?” She whispered, mindlessly staring at the other’s lips.

“Yunjin… you shouldn’t play with fire” She said, holding the other’s face with her left hand and the right holding her waist. “If you continue with this our night is going to end in a way that I wouldn’t deem correct” She lightly squeezed Yunjin’s waist, shaking her head to expel those thoughts out of her head, trying to focus on something else. “Let’s go to bed, the floor is too cold for you” She got up, taking Yunjin with her.

“How do you want me to not think anything dirty when you casually ask me to go to bed with you like this?” Yunjin groaned, sitting on Sakura’s big bed.

As the oldest, she was the only one to have a bedroom for herself, being able to have a king sized bed on it. Yunjin groaned a bit when she felt her wet panties sticking to her skin, a bit embarrassed.

“I don’t think you should think of anything dirty because if you do, then I’ll have to deal with it” She placed both hands on Yunjin’s sides, her eyes dark with desire.

“You say as if it’s a bad thing” She whispered, their faces inches apart.

“You deserve something different from what I can offer you right now” Yunjin smiled, her lips brushing against Sakura’s jaw.

“I deserve for you to fuck me for all those months we were apart” She whispered again.

Sakura’s heart was beating so fast she could hear it, her hands gripped the sheets, trying really hard to restrain that desire. The internal debate was almost loud enough for Yunjin to hear. She never wanted something like she wanted Yunjin, but at the same time she really wanted to be nice and romantic with the girl.

“Hey, look at me” Yunjin caressed her face with both thumbs. “It’s okay” She kissed her slowly. “I want this, unnie” She said with those pretty doe eyes. “Please, show me how much you want me to be yours, only yours”

“Say it again” She placed her thumb on Yunjin’s lower lip, who promptly stuck her tongue out, sucking on it and making Sakura’s breath hitch.

“Please unnie, make me yours”

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

The next second was a blur. How could time go fast and slow at the same time? 

Sakura kissed her with a certain urgency, promptly sucking her tongue, roaming her hands over her body, getting goosebumps and a whimper from Yunjin who was absolutely too horny and too wet to properly function. She tilted her head to the side, moaning when she felt the japanese’s wet tongue licking her pulse point, biting softly. 

“No, please” She breathed out, her right hand squeezing sakura’s upper arm. “Mark me” She pleaded, getting a guttural moan from the other one just with that request. 

“We have schedules this week, baby” She kept licking her neck, making her whine and squeeze her thighs together. Sakura took a step back, smiling devilishly. “I can’t mark your neck, but I can make sure you’ll remember me every time you take a look at yourself, love” 

Yunjin was so beautiful like that: puffy eyes, swollen lips and that beautiful hair all messy, panting as if she had ran a marathon. 

“Will you do something for me?” She said, her tone seductively dangerous. 

“Anything, unnie” She whined,a sweet tone to her voice. Sakura smiled.

“Take off your jeans” Yunijn’s heartbeat was on her ears like drums, she could only see Sakura. She could only feel the need to obey and please that gorgeous deity in front of her. 

She unbuttoned it, taking it off of her with ease, feeling the japanese’s gaze follow every single one of her moves like a lioness would follow her prey. She was so unbelievably wet that she could feel it now on her thighs. 

She sat back with her legs closed, a sudden shame making her feel uneasy. Sakura passed her hand through her dark hair, wetting her lips with the sight in front of her. She kissed Yunjin again, wet and exploring, taking part of that shame off. 

“Do you ever touch yourself thinking of me?” She asked, profusely looking into her eyes.

“I…” The blonde looked at the side, avoiding her. “N-no?” It was more like a question than an answer.

“You don’t fool me” Sakura caressed her bare thigh, sitting on the bed and positioning herself between Yunjin who was now laying down. “I’ll ask again and you are going to tell me the truth, or I’ll stop” Sakura said, reaching for the other’s hard nipples slowly, making her roll her eyes and bite her lips.”Have you ever touched yourself thinking about me?” She squeezed her tits together, observing her hips roll and her hands grab the sheets with her closed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. 

“Yes, unnie” She swallowed a moan when Sakura pinched her covered nipples.

Sakura reached for her face, kissing her deeply, then leaning back, her intentions quite clear. 

“Show me, baby” She bent the other’s knees. “Show me how you fuck yourself when you are alone in your room” Yunjin moaned, her cheeks red with desire and hesitation. “Give me your hand” She took Yunjin’s hand, slowly putting it in her mouth, licking her fingers. 

“Fuck, Kkura” Her cunt was drenched and pulsing in an impossible way. 

“No unnie?” Sakura said, still licking her fingers, spitting on them. “You get horny and disrespectful now?” She mocked. “Guess I’ll have to stop to teach you some manners…” She was about to take Yunjin’s hand out of her mouth when the other stopped her from doing it. 

“Unnie! No, please, I am sorry” Her eyes watered. “Please Kkura unnie, don’t stop” She moaned, looking at the other’s mouth glistening with saliva. 

“Touch it, baby” She said, putting Yunin’s wet hand on top of her own pussy. “Let unnie see how you fuck your pretty hole” Yunjin moaned, wanting so bad to be touched but wanting even more to please the other. Sakura pushed her panties to the side, moaning at the beautiful sight of her glistening cunt pulsing for her.

Yunjin was so wet that it was pretty possible three fingers would fit perfectly in her without waiting to adjust, the japanese thought. 

She used her middle finger to collect some of her juices, moaning at the feeling.

Circling her clit she rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to scream but nothing came. She wanted to put on a show for her unnie, so she dipped a finger on her entrance observing Sakura’s dark expression change a bit, swallowing hard the need to fuck that pretty pussy. 

“Unnie…” Yunjin called with a moan, snapping the other out of that trance. She kept circling her clit, feeling her wetness spread on her skin. 

She was feeling so strangely good, it was new to her. As she stated to Sakura before, she didn’t have experience dating and even though she did have sex and theoretically she did touch herself, she was just never able to finish alone or with anybody else. 

“Unnie, oh my god” She called again, strained.

“Keep going baby, you are doing so good for me” She said, looking at Yunjin who was a panting mess in front of her. She got rid of her own shorts and panties, using only a jersey now. She lifted Yunjin’s white t shirt, revealing her tits, touching herself at the sight. 

Yunjin felt her body tense, shaking and too hot for her to handle, her vision was getting blurry, it was all too new for her. She could only hear the mix of her moans and Sakura’s. She circled a few more times, that suffocating feeling too strong now, making her stop all of a sudden, squeezing her eyes shut. 

Sakura, who was also almost cumming, stopped on her tracks too, a bit worried. 

“Are you okay, baby?” She panted, trying to recover. Yunjin had her eyes closed, too embarrassed. Sakura laid between her legs, wincing a little, still too horny. She kissed her face, silently panicking. “Yunjin-a” She called, a worried expression. “Are you okay?” She caressed her hair and face and Yunjin hid it in the crook of her neck. “You didn't come, did you?” She nodded, still hiding. 

As an experienced person and of course, as Yunjin’s friend, she knew it didn’t happen. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” She asked and Yunjin answered with a muffled ‘No’. “Baby, look at me” Sakura asked, but the other didn’t budge. “Do you trust me?” She softly asked, her pussy still throbbing with need. Yunjin finally looked at her and she smiled, kissing her on the lips and pulling her closer. 

“What happened?” She asked in the softest tone she could. Yunjin didn’t answer right away, trying to elaborate an answer. 

“I felt like I was suffocating” She said, a bit embarrassed. “I never got so worked up before, I guess” The other smiled reassuringly. 

“I understand” She kissed her lips. “Was I too fast?” 

“No, you were perfect unnie” She caressed Sakura’s face. “I just never, you know” The brunette raised an eyebrow and she fought the urge to hide her face again. “I never had an orgasm before, I guess” She chuckled and Sakura went silent, her expression going from worried to something else. 

“I see…” She swallowed thickly. “And why is that? I mean… you had sex before, right?” 

“I mean, yeah. But I think it didn’t have the effect in me like it had on others” Sakura chuckled, that dark expression showing itself again. 

“Oh, Yunjin…” She smiled, kissing her lips slowly but firmly. “Do you want me to show you how it’s done, baby?” Yunjin nodded mid kiss, that fire on her stomach growing again, making her pussy ache since it’s been denied an orgasm before. 

Sakura put herself in the middle of the other’s thighs again, kissing and biting there. Maintaining eye contact with the younger one, she pulled her wet panties down to reveal her pretty pussy, her clit poking out from its hood red and swollen. The japanese woman groaned at the sight, taking off her own jersey and Yunjin’s t shirt, leaving both of them bare. 

“Is it okay to keep going? Is there anything you don’t wanna do?” She asked, caressing Yunjin’s thigh.

“Do what you want with me, please” Yunjin moaned. Sakura kissed her on the lips

“Tell me if anything bothers you, ok?” The other nodded, feeling her heart beat fast as hell. 

Sakura trailed Yunjin’s body with kisses, working her up, her tongue hot and wet making the other moan. She licked one of her boobs, sucking and biting at the skin to get her marked up like she said she would do. 

“Unnie I need you to fuck me, please” Yunjin said, her hips searching for any kind of friction. Sakura smiled against her skin, sucking a dark spot on her abs. 

“I am dying to eat you out, darling” She said, going lower and lower. “I just want to mark you to remind you that you are mine now” Kissing the inside of the other’s thigh, she inhaled deeply. “Fuck, you smell so good” She kissed the small patch of hair on top of the other’s cunt, licking from her slit to her engorged clit in a slow motion. 

None of them could describe the feeling of how the other made them feel. Yunjin almost screamed at the sudden hotness and pleasure, instantly grabbing the other’s hair; Sakura went to hell and bounced back straight to heaven while sucking that delicious pussy, throbbing at the feeling. 

“Oh my god” Yunjin said when the other strongly sucked on her clit, her eyes rolling to the back of her head when she felt the vibration of Sakura’s moan as well. “Fuck, Sakura!” She said, mindlessly humping her wet cunt on the japanese’s tongue. 

Sakura kept her gaze on that beautiful face, feeling proud to be making her feel so good; Yunjin tossed and turned, moaning like a bitch in heat, pulling Sakura’s hair with one hand and with the other pulling her nipple, her eyes watering and that feeling in the pit of her stomach again, but this time it was stronger, got her legs shaking and her body tensing up 10 times worse than before. 

“Unnie, oh my good” She said, her mouth shaped like an O, looking at Sakura's relentless tongue on her pussy.   

“Let it happen, love” Sakura managed to say, diving back to suck on her pulsing clit, her chin wet and glistening.

Yunjin kept humping, her moans getting even louder if that was possible, her legs squeezing Sakura’s head between them, the so awaited moment coming like a missile, making her lose her voice and all her strength.

She felt an unfamiliar buzz on her ears, blinking about three times to recover full consciousness. 

She was pulled back by Sakura’s tongue in her mouth, making her taste herself and hum at it.

“Your pussy tastes so good” She said, grabbing the blonde’s face and spitting into her mouth. “I could keep eating you out all night” They moaned into each other’s mouths, a string of spit connecting their kiss. 

Yunjin felt like she was supposed to feel sensitive like her friends said they felt when they just climaxed, but with Sakura on top of her saying things like that she only felt more aroused than before.  

“Unnie, fuck me with your fingers” Yunjin kissed Sakura’s fingers and directed them to her cunt, watching with attention when she pushed two in one go. 

“Look at this” She said, devilishly. “I’ll stretch your pretty pussy so good, baby” She moaned when felt the spongy spot inside of the other one. “One day you’ll be able to take my whole fist inside you and you'll love it” Yunjin’s eyes rolled back, being fucked so hard it was impossible to think properly or to feel ashamed at anything she might've said. "tell me you want my fist up your cunt baby, tellme you'll love it" Sakura said through gritted teeth.

"I- jesus" She stopped mid sentence after the other hit a particularly good spot. "I want your whole fist inside me unnie, fuck"

"I know you do, my love" Sakura growled, spitting on Yunjin's clit, thinking how pretty that stretched pussy looked. 

“U-unnie…” She cried, grabbing Sakura’s hand to increase the speed. “Yo-you fuck me so good, so good” She felt that tight feeling again, opening her eyes to say what she was about to say looking directly into her eyes, fully aware of the effect she would cause. “No one ever fucked me like you, ever” She shook her head, tears spilling from both of her eyes, a babbling mess. “F-fuck my pussy like you own me” She said. 

Sakura growled, fucking her with her right hand and grabbing her neck with the other one. 

“Mine” She said, closer to Yunjin’s lips now. “My little slut” The possessive tone made her pussy clench so hard it was hard to Sakura move her fingers but she didn’t stop, feeling it tighter and tighter, her second orgasm ripping through her body and making her a shaking mess, tears falling freely from her eyes now, the stimulation was too much but too good. 

“No one will ever fuck you like me, Yunjin” Sakura said, raising one of Yunjin’s legs to her chest and positioning her clit on top of the blonde’s, much to her surprise. 

“Kkura, what-” She started saying, trying to stabilize her voice but a moan ripped through her throat when she felt the other’s wetness mix with her own. 

“It’s unnie ” She angrily growled. “You were the one that reminded me someone else’s hand touched you, baby” She started thrusting at a rapid pace, tightly hugging Yunjin’s leg to her chest. “Now I’ll have to- Oh, jesus ” She closed her eyes when their wet clits touched in a better position. “Now I’ll cum all over your little cunt to show you that only I can make you feel like this” She nibbled at Yunjin’s leg. 

“Unnie!” Yunjin tossed herself against the mattress, sure she would die of overstimulation. But oh, it felt so fucking good. “Keep going, please unnie, please” She pleaded, scratching the other’s milky thighs, marking her as well, drooling in the most beautiful and fucked out state.

“My little pussy, only mine” Sakura repeated it like a mantra to herself, animalistic. 

She kept that hard pace for a few more thrusts, smiling when she felt her orgasm, Yunjin almost passed out on the soft mattress. She was smiling because she knew exactly what was coming, shaking with desire and pride. She pushed herself off the other only enough to tap her own clit a few times, squirting all over the blonde girl who had the third orgasm of the night. 

“Mine, just mine” She kept growling, her eyes closed in pleasure.

Yunjin was barely awake, trying to recover her breath; Sakura laid beside her, pulling her to an embrace, kissing her mouth. The only thing she could really feel was the japanese woman, so engulfed in her perfume it was dizzying. Sakura didn't let her go, kissing her, licking her neck and chest like a cat demanding affection.

They kept kissing for what felt like ages, Yunjin’s body sore and tired, almost shutting off. 

“I wanna touch you too” She said, sleepily touching Sakura’s body.

Looking outside the window Sakura noticed the sun rising already, smiling at how time flies when you are having a good time. She pulled Yunjin incredibly closer, kissing her temple and inhaling her scent, pulling a blanket over their naked bodies. 

“You can barely keep your eyes open, my love” She caressed Yunjin’s back in an up and down motion. 

“But I want to, unnie” She yawned, falling in and out of sleep. Sakura chuckled. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here when you wake up” She touched their noses, thinking the blonde was already sleeping.

“You promise?” She stared at Sakura’s eyes, her gaze heavy and reddened.

Sakura took a deep breath, ghosting her lips over the other’s. 

“Yes, my love. I promise” 

[sweetrevxnge]

Like Phantoms, Forever

Chapter Fifteen | In The Face of Evil

Pairing: Ben Solo x Reader

Summary: Your destiny had never been clear to you, only becoming so when it led you to leaving behind the life you knew to train with the galaxy's sole Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. His Jedi Academy became your new home, bringing with it the promise of someday becoming a Jedi Knight. While navigating the ways of the Force, an inexplicable connection forms between you and a fellow student—the heir to the legendary Skywalker bloodline, Ben Solo. Together, the two of you must face your destinies and forge the path to your true selves.

What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Masterlist

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Word count: 5.9k

Chapter-specific CW: description of injury, violence, blood, abduction, implied domestic abuse, death

A/N: this. chapter. was. a. BEAST, but I'm so proud of it. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it (even tho it had me questioning my sanity at times). also, in true george lucas fashion, I went back to ch. 1 and changed some of the details about Ben's introduction, but it was nothing major. anyways... cellphones on silent and shut your fckn mouths, the show is about to begin.

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If you had any weaker of a stomach, you would have vomited all over the Admiral’s polished black boots. But, in a stroke of luck, or perhaps due to the sheer emptiness of your stomach, you didn’t.

You were delirious, you decided. After everything you had gone through in the past day, you were hallucinating a false reality. But as you tried to blink away the image in front of you, it remained solid, too detailed to be an illusion. 

Dressed in a high-collared, gray uniform stood your father, a shadow of the man you had known your entire life. The man who had raised you alongside your mother, the man you should have known everything about. He had always kept his past close to his chest, as well as his family at an arm’s length, omitting the details of his early life when the topic would arise. To someone who didn’t know anything different, he shared everything that a loving parent should share with their child. Come to find out, that had not been the case.

Although you struggled to comprehend what was happening, you immediately thought of his business. Distributing crops to buyers in all corners of the galaxy was the perfect cover, in a way. A former Imperial captain disguised as a simple, Dantooinian farmer who made frequent business trips off-world, owing no explanation to his wife and child. 

At the realization, you thought of her. Your mother. What did she know of this? Did she even know? The meek woman you knew would never willfully marry an Imperial loyalist—let alone be involved with such an organization. You could hardly stomach the idea of her being aware of this deception.

A million questions crossed your mind in the span of a single second, none of which could be easily answered. Regardless, the likelihood of you surviving to even be able to ask her such questions was becoming more slim with every second that passed.

“Captain, I usually trust your judgment without a hint of doubt, but was this really the best option available to us?” Admiral Sloane asked your father, her skepticism evident in her tone. “Why not the Skywalker boy?”

Though indirect, the mere mention of Ben made acid rise in your throat. In your chemically-included sleep, what had become of him? Of all of your classmates, for that matter. All you could hope for was that he was sleeping soundly in his bed, unharmed and untroubled by his usual insomnia. It was all you could ever wish for him.

“It couldn’t have been him. He’s far too indoctrinated in the Jedi’s teachings to be compliant,” your father answered as he slowly moved forward.

Relief washed over you like a crashing wave, melting away your fear. Ben was safe—for now, at least.

“The same could have been said for Lord Vader, sir,” the Admiral argued, raising a dark eyebrow at him.

Despite never living under his reign, Darth Vader’s power still radiated through his name, carrying an indescribable weight. The air felt heavier at the mention of it, like a curse falling over you.

“I suppose you’re right, Admiral,” he said with a sigh. “Perhaps we can extract him later.”

An icy chill ran down your spine at the implication. With the location of the Academy now uncovered, there was no telling what lengths the First Order would go to to eliminate their opposition. 

Your father stalked towards you, his presence suffocating in the massive room. Everything about him was familiar, yet completely different—more refined. The scrape of his boots, a sound that once echoed throughout your home in the early hours of the morning, was now akin to the sound of nails raking over a blackboard. His poised shoulders and lifted chin, once the stature of a proud businessman who provided for his family, was now reminiscent of a soldier’s posture.

As his footfall came to a stop beside the Admiral, his narrowed eyes pierced yours, the eyes you had inherited from him.

You dropped your gaze to the slate floor, unable to bear the sight of him any longer. Besides, the floor wouldn’t betray you, given its composition of a material far more durable than your father’s morals.

“It’s good to see you, my dear,” he said, the sound of his voice grating to your ears.

You said nothing, your erratic breath the only response you were willing to offer. Your eyes stung as traitorous tears began to fill them, blurring the edges of your vision.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.” He snatched your jaw between his fingers, pulling your head up to meet his unavoidable gaze. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Happy?” you said, the muscles in your face straining against his grip. “You expect me to be happy to see you after what you’ve put me through?”

“You wound me, daughter. You are, after all, our guest,” he sneered.

“I’m honored.”

He stared at you for a long moment before directing his attention to the stout man still standing behind you. “General, I do hope that she was not too much trouble for your men to extract.”

“Not at all, Cap. The lecepanine darts you gave us worked like a charm.”

To your surprise, Brendol Hux was not the person who answered your father’s question, but rather the last figure concealed by the shadows.

Every set of eyes in the room locked onto the man as he moved towards the group, stepping into the low light. His face was shrouded by a mask, one with a dull charcoal hue and a collection of glowing, red lines etched into the center of the plate. Draped over his shoulders was a long, black cowl, the tattered fabric trailing behind him like a shadow as he approached the center of the room.

The most surprising aspect of his appearance wasn’t the helmet, or even the threadbare clothing, it was the lack of it. His chest was bare, the carved muscles covered with dark scar tissue from his neck to the waistband of his tactical pants.

“What the fuck?” you whispered, somehow more confused now than upon seeing your own father in an Imperial uniform.

Nearly simultaneous with your remark, the restraints on your wrists buzzed with a current of electricity. Fucking bastard. You shot the General a venomous glare, receiving only a pleased grin from him in return, his thumb still hovering over the remote as a warning.

“Where are your manners?” your father scolded you, quickly releasing your face to slap you across it. “I thought your mother and I had taught you better than this.”

At the mention of your mother, your heart sank. The thought of what evil she might have endured during her marriage, how your father may have treated her behind closed doors. A violent rage grew within your chest at the mere idea of him hurting her.

“My apologies, Sir Ren. My daughter has always had a tendency to speak out of turn, but I assure you, she means no offense.”

“I can speak for myself–”

You were interrupted by another surge of energy shooting through your cuffs.

“None taken. And please, just call me Ren,” the masked man said to your father before turning his shielded gaze to you. “Sorry that this had to be the way we met, kid. But sometimes, you just gotta work with what life gives you.” Despite being modulated, you could tell that his voice was rough—almost leathery—as he spoke to you. Each syllable sent an unpleasant chill throughout your bones.

“And somehow, this is still the most pleasant way we could have met,” you spat.

Ren laughed behind his mask, the sound rattling through the vocoder. Time seemed to slow as his thumbs grazed along the underside of his jaw, unlatching his helmet and lifting it off of his head.

Thick, white hair fell from the helmet, framing his tan face, a stark contrast to his dark brows. He was youthful, more so than everyone else in the room, but easily a decade your senior. His icy blue eyes scanned your form, his gaze lingering on your chest before finally pulling away. 

Pig.

“I like her. She’ll fit in just fine with my men.” Though he was looking at you, his statement passed through you like a ghost, directed at the uniformed men behind him.

“I doubt that,” you said, taking a step closer to him, as if you could even appear threatening right now if you tried.

“Gods, when will you learn to just shut up?” General Hux cut in, smacking you at the nape of your neck with the back of his hand. “You will treat your new Master with respect, or you will suffer dire consequences.”

“What, you’ll kill me?” you snapped. “Your bark is louder than your bite—all of you. If you wanted me dead, you would’ve done so already.” Your response was bold, probably too bold for a girl in restraints who was entirely surrounded by capable beings, but you didn’t care. You weren’t going to give in to their manipulation.

“Death isn’t the only consequence in this world, child,” your father said coldly.

His threat was enough to humble you, but you didn’t cower, slipping in one last jab before quieting yourself. “It’s the only consequence I want.”

“Enough.” Hux was firm as he spoke, stepping between the three of you in an attempt to redirect the conversation. “Ren, I expect a reconnaissance report from you by the end of the day. And Captain, will you do me a favor and put her back in her hold? I must see to it that her next dose is prepared.”

Dose? Your mind raced at the mention of the word. The context made it sound like they were already dosing you with something, causing panic to rise in your chest.

“Dose of what?” you blurted, hardly considering the repercussions of asking such a question.

Hux turned to look at you and as he did, you prepared for another strike across the face, but surprisingly, it never came. The only thing you felt was the bruising grip of your father’s hand around your upper arm as he steered you away from the group.

“Save your breath,” your father said, pushing you towards the dark corridor.

You met him with as much resistance as you could, trying to sow roots into the stone beneath you, but failed. The faces of Admiral Sloane, General Hux, and Sir Ren grew distant behind you as you were forced back into your cage.

The silence between you and your father was unsettling, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to make light conversation with him. What was there to talk about? The intricacies of the cracks running along the walls? Really, there was only one thing you wanted to speak to him about.

Once you breached the threshold of the cell, you found the courage to break the silence.

“Are you going to leave me here?”

You turned to face him, avoiding his gaze by counting the square tiles pinned to his uniform instead. There were six.

“No,” he replied, shoving you forward into the confines of your cell.

You stumbled over your own feet, landing just inches away from where you had initially awakened. Somehow, that felt like a lifetime ago. It was as if time passed differently in this fortress. An hour or a decade could have passed in your absence and you wouldn’t have known the difference.

He crouched in front of you, grabbing the bar that connected your cuffs in one hand as his other retrieved a remote from his breast pocket.

For a fleeting moment, the naive part of your soul foolishly hoped that he would release you, that he would courageously guide you through the maze and send you off in an escape pod to somewhere far away from here, to somewhere safe. But as he reattached the heavy chains to your wrists, the spark of your hope dwindled into a pile of smoldering ash.

You resisted the urge to curse him, to call him a horrible father and dishonorable man, but the ache in your bones and the exhaustion that clouded your thoughts were becoming impossible to ignore.

You tilted your head back against the wall and allowed your heavy eyes to close, the brief moment of rest so sweet and liberating.

You weren’t sure how much time passed while you sat there, eyes closed, and truthfully, you didn’t care. You were content there, drifting in a place between sleep and consciousness. That was until the squeak of boots treading across the wet floor filled the room. You forced your eyes open, finding that your father was still standing in your cell, watching over you like a sentry. He was adjacent to you, his back pressed against the wall as he stared down at you. 

“I see that you’ve been demoted to babysitter,” you said dryly.

“I believe ‘guardian’ is a more appropriate title,” he replied, seemingly unbothered by your jab. 

You scoffed. “Personally, I think ‘captor’ is the most fitting, but whatever helps you sleep at night, Pops.”

This time, your insult reached him. His nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath, letting it out shakily as he spoke. “From now on, you will address me as Captain.”

“Whatever you say, Captain,” you said, biting back the smile that tugged at your lips. You couldn’t help but feel proud to have finally managed to get under his skin.

As the air fell silent, the questions stirring in your mind became louder. If you were going to be trapped in a cage with him as your guard, you might as well make the best of it.

“How did you do it?” you asked quietly.

“Do what?”

You lifted your chained hands, motioning around you as best you could. “This.”

“That’s a broad question,” he said flatly.

“I feel like I’ve more than earned some answers.”

He drew in another breath, holding the air in his chest for a long moment before responding. “Fine.”

Every question was important, and every would be answered, but where to start? You settled on starting at the same place that the First Order did. 

“How did you find me?”

The question hung in the air. What if he changed his mind? What if you’ve just dug yourself into a deeper hole?

Finally, he said, “The First Order’s technology is cutting edge, but ultimately unnecessary in our pursuit. The lead landed on our doorstep.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“A few months ago, our scanners detected an anomaly leaving the planet’s atmosphere: a decommissioned X-Wing. After running a painstakingly long decloaking sequence, we discovered that the ship exiting our airspace belonged to none other than Luke Skywalker.”

“No,” you whispered. “That can’t be true.”

“I can show you the report, if you’d like.”

You stayed silent, processing what he was telling you. Admittedly, you were hesitant to trust your father, but you couldn’t deny your curiosity.

“Why was he here?”

“How am I supposed to know? We were not operating here on Zeffo at the time. He was gone long before we could investigate,” he said, pursing his lips in a tight line.

“Wait—Zeffo? As in, the lost Jedi civilization, Zeffo?” you asked, your eyes widening. The reveal of your location felt like a lifeline being thrown to you, but with nothing to communicate with, the information was trivial.

“Yes. I suspect that was why Skywalker was here in the first place.”

“But Master Skywalker says that he hasn’t left the Academy in over a year. It couldn’t have been him.” You were thinking out loud at this point, but you didn’t care. You needed to make sense of what he was telling you.

“Then you must be deceived,” he said. “His ship was here, regardless of what he may have told you.”

You struggled to believe him, sifting through every other possibility in your mind. Master Skywalker has been present at the Academy the entire time you’ve been there. And his ship, it hasn’t left the shipyard in months, not since—

“Ben,” you whispered. A glowing warmth radiated in your chest as you said his name.

That had to be it. When you met Ben, he had just returned from a Jedi artifact search in Master Skywalker’s X-Wing, rather than the Grimtaash. You wondered now if the choice for him and Lor San Tekka to fly smaller, separate ships had been deliberate.

“What did you say?” your father asked, his hearing evidently still as sharp as it had been when you were a child.

“N-Nothing—I didn’t say anything,” you stammered, clearing your throat. “What happened after that, after you discovered his ship?”

He watched you with suspicious eyes, but continued. “With a great deal of effort on our part, and the help of the Imperial archives, we were able to splice the ship’s navigational system remotely and extract the destination log from its data. It was there that we found the coordinates to an unknown location in the Outer Rim.”

You couldn’t tell if you were angry or saddened to learn that all of this stemmed from Ben’s artifact trip in his uncle’s X-Wing. Though, the blame wasn’t entirely his. After all, he had made the journey under the supervision of Master Skywalker and Lor San Tekka.

“I just don’t understand. Why only capture me? Why not destroy the entire temple when you had the chance?” As grim as the question was, you needed an answer to it.

“After some debate, it was decided that we would only extract one student as a candidate for our initiative, and after hearing word of my beloved wife suddenly shipping our daughter away to parts unknown, I proposed that we choose you.”

“But you didn’t even know that I was at the Academy. Mom made arrangements before you returned from your business trip—whatever it may have been for.”

“Truthfully, we were testing a hypothesis. I suspected that you had been sent to Luke Skywalker’s Academy, so, General Hux and I created a plan to infiltrate the grounds.”

Your heart pounded harder against your ribs with every word that left his mouth. Every step of this nightmare had been delicately crafted with malicious intent, and you weren’t sure which part of it was worse—the physical suffering, or the psychological torment of knowing that each day you spent the Academy, you were being hunted.

“It was simple, really. With the aid of an experimental formula created decades ago by Imperial scientists, as well as a contracted team of mercenaries, we were able to test our hypothesis.”

The drug mentioned earlier immediately came to your mind, the one the man named Ren had used to incapacitate you. What did he call it? Lelpanocine? No, that wasn’t right.

“The lel…lelpano—” you started to say before your father interrupted you.

“Lecepanine. No, not that. This task required something more complex than a paralytic alone. Diazexacin was created with the purpose of severing one’s connection to the Force. According to the reports, creating it was a tedious process, but the end result is highly effective. And, to our benefit, quite versatile.”

Why was he telling you so much? It felt too convenient for him to plainly reveal the First Order’s master plan to abduct you, but then again, you were already their helpless captive. What did they have to lose by divulging this information to you?

“Versatile how?” you asked, snapping yourself back into the conversation.

“It can be absorbed through a variety of routes, including the digestive tract,” he answered, a smug expression plastered across his face.

Your father’s words rolled around your head. His mention of the digestive tract illuminated a detail that you had overlooked in the chaos of everything. The day you were abducted, every student you spoke to at the Academy reported feeling off, or otherwise disconnected from the Force. But why? That had been the question you posed to Ben, Tai, and Hennix, who had all brushed off your concerns. In retrospect, you were right to question it, but it was too late now. Now, you needed to find the common denominator, the thing that everyone had to have shared that day.

Just then, the realization hit you, slamming into you like a fiery meteor colliding with a planet. The food. The First Order had found a way to spike the Academy's food supply.

“You drugged the food…” you said, nauseated at the thought.

“Very good, my child. But not all of the food,” he corrected. “Only a select amount of produce was able to retain the diazexacin after the cooking process. Carrots and potatoes were all that we were able to manage.”

The memory of that morning’s breakfast came back to you: diced potatoes and eggs. And that evening, the hearty tiingilar that had warmed your heart and belly. How naive you had been while eating it, trying your best to enjoy the stew as Tai and Hennix poked fun at you. The First Order’s strategy in this matter alone proved them to be a worthy threat to peace across the galaxy.

You rubbed the bandage taped to your neck in thought, digesting the wealth of information being given to you. “Well, congratulations. Your hypothesis was right. Next time, maybe consider peaceful negotiations before shooting a blow dart into my neck and dragging me out of my home. Perhaps I would’ve gone with you willingly.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Is that so?”

“Stars, no. Not in a million light years. But you never know,” you said with a small shrug. A bit of humor eased your discomfort, even if it was just slightly.

Across the room, you saw the corner of your father’s mouth twitch upwards before falling back into a hard line.

Silence filled the space as you closed your eyes again, letting out a long yawn as you did. If it weren’t for the sharp ridges of stone probing you like a human pin cushion, you would almost be able to fall asleep. 

“Dad,” you said weakly, fighting off the weight of sleep that threatened to take you. “I’d like to sleep, but I can’t get comfortable.”

“And what would you have me do about that?” he replied curtly.

“I don’t know. Tell me a bedtime story, or something.”

The request hung in the air for a long moment, as if he were carefully deciding his answer.

“I suppose I could do that. What kind of story would you like to hear?”

There was no cadence in his question, not like you remembered from your childhood. It was as if he had been replaced by a stranger—a staunch, heartless stranger whose lack of compassion rivaled even the most vile beings in the galaxy.

“I’d like to hear the one about the Imperial officer, the one who fooled the world posing as an ordinary farmer for the better part of his daughter’s life.”

His throat knocked as he considered, his lips tight. “Fine.”

At that, you pried your eyes open, looking at him expectantly. 

“Where do I even begin…” he said, lowering his voice. “When I was a young man, I enlisted in the Imperial army, with every intention of someday becoming a Commander. As it were, fate had other plans for me.”

“Before I could attain my goal, the Empire collapsed. I was left to fend for myself, searching the galaxy for a job that wouldn’t look too far into my history. That’s when I met your mother.”

“Neither of you ever did tell me how the two of you met,” you said quietly, the warmth in your cheeks vanishing at the idea of your mother somehow being connected to the Empire.

“No, we didn’t. You wouldn’t have believed us if we had,” he said with a chuckle, the first indication of emotion you had seen from him all day. “We met in a bar in the lower levels of Coruscant. I was a different man back then, placing large bets with credits I didn’t have and drinking away what little winnings I made.”

It was hard to imagine him like that, young and stupid, tossing credits down on a dirty, felt-lined tabletop in some seedy bar tucked away on Coruscant. The image almost made you smile.

“I remember it vividly. It was a particularly busy night, the heavy rain was driving everyone inside. I was already down five thousand credits, with only two in my pockets when I saw her. Your mother stood out from the crowd like a star in an empty sky. She couldn’t help it, of course. Despite her casual attire, she was stunning, and in my drunken stupor, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to ruin my life in a new and exciting way.”

You tried to picture the scene, imagining what she was wearing, how she had styled her hair. It was calming to hear about her, to piece together the image of the woman she was in her youth. 

Your father sucked in a short breath before continuing. “I was so drunk, in fact, that it did not even occur to me that the woman I had spent the evening buying drinks for was, in fact, a Rebel spy.”

The image you had painted in your mind crumbled at his words. “Mom was…a Rebel?”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. How else do you think she knew about Skywalker’s precious Academy?”

The question simmered in your mind as you processed it. In the wake of the discovery of your Force sensitivity, you hadn’t stopped to consider how your mother knew about the existence of the Academy to begin with, being more concerned with getting there than asking such questions.

“If what you say is true and she really was a Rebel, then she would have never married you. Especially not with the knowledge that you were still loyal to the Empire,” you said, your voice raised slightly.

He took a step forward, careful to keep the distance between you wide. “Oh, but she did know. It was not by chance that we met in that bar, not at all. She had been watching me for weeks, learning my routine, just waiting for the right opportunity to strike. You see, your dear mother was operating under the orders of Chancellor Mothma, who had created a task force to exterminate all remaining Imperial officials in the galaxy. Evidently, I had pissed off the wrong person and they tattled on me to the New Republic. It was just my luck that your mother was the agent they had sent to investigate.”

“I…I don’t believe you.”

At that, he let out a low laugh. “You don’t have to. Our vows were proof enough that love conquers all, or rather, did conquer all.”

“What do you mean?” you asked wearily.

Ignoring your question, he continued. “For a long time, there was talk amongst my buyers, talk of a rising power in the shadow of the New Republic. I never gave it much merit, but after a while, the rumors became too much to ignore any longer. I knew I needed to do something, to help restore the Empire to its former glory.”

Spoken like a true sympathizer, you thought.

“I suppose your mother did the same, keeping her connections in the Rebellion just as close as I had kept mine in the Empire.”

There was a tonal shift in his statement, one that left you feeling uneasy. He was choosing his words more carefully now, holding you at a distance once more.

“Where is she now?” you asked, hiding the anxiety that was creeping in.

He averted his gaze at the question, which only made you more desperate for an answer.

“Please, tell me,” you pleaded, swallowing what little remained of your pride.

Reluctantly, he answered, “Somewhere safe.”

It was not the answer you had expected, but still not specific enough to ease your concerns.

“Where is she?” you demanded.

“I cannot speak to where she is at this exact moment,” he said, letting out a long sigh. “But I will say, shooting her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

In an instant, the world around you shifted. It was no longer gravity that held you in place, but rather a different weight, one that crushed your bones and stilled your breath. You were sinking, plummeting backwards through frigid water as it filled your lungs, the reality at the surface becoming more distorted the further you fell.

“What…” The word left your lips slowly, tumbling through the dead space between you and your father.

Before he could respond, you felt it. A heavy swirl of energy surrounded you, filling your senses as it embraced you like an old friend. It was radiant and welcoming, but equally as dark and demanding, moving through you as if you were a vessel of its will.

“Don’t be mistaken, I did not take any pleasure in doing it. Truthfully, it was like putting down a sick dog, releasing it from its misery…” 

Your father’s voice faded into oblivion as your ears rang, the only sound reaching you being your ragged breath as the Force ripped through you.

Bolts and fasteners bounced across the ground as you pulled against the chains that anchored you, ripping them free from their base. The squeal of metal scraping stone filled the room as you took a step forward. You lifted your hands, sending warm blood running down your arms, cascading down your skin like a crimson rain. Hot, burning pain spread through your body, but you were unbothered. The sensation only focused your anger, channeling it like molten glass being poured along an iron cast, creating something violent and destructive.

“What are you—General! Somebody, please, get in here, NOW–”

Your father’s cry for help was interrupted by a strangled cough as the Force seized his throat, lifting him into the air until he was hovering, flailing his legs wildly. The only thing that could be heard over the sound of him suffocating was his leather boots dragging across the ground as you summoned him to your hand, gripping his windpipe tight when he finally reached you.

For the first time in your life, you saw fear in your father’s eyes. The sight of it fed the dark spirit in your soul, fanning the flames of its rage.

As if he realized this, he squeezed his eyes shut, baring his clenched teeth as he worked to pry your fingers from his neck.

“Look at me,” you said, your low voice almost unrecognizable to your ears. “I want you to look at me when I kill you.”

Against his volition, his eyes flew open, the whites of them now littered with broken vessels as the color slowly drained from his skin. He clawed at your hand, successfully peeling back a few fingers before the lack of oxygen took its toll, rendering his attempts to free himself futile.

“You…w-will always b-be…” he croaked, gulping down what little air he could manage. “Scum.”

His limp body fell to the ground with no resistance, and as it did, the fog lifted. As quickly as it had appeared, the energy surrounding you vanished, leaving you hollow and cold in its wake.

All you could do was stare into the vacant eyes of the man who had murdered your mother, his warm corpse mangled on the floor. No blood pooled around him, and every limb was accounted for and intact. He was nothing more than an empty shell now.

The urge to vomit was intense as you turned on your heels, searching for the exit. Acid burned your throat as General Hux came rushing through the doorway, clutching a cloudy syringe in his hand. 

His pale eyes widened as they fell on you, an image drawn from nightmares. You stood in the center of the room, dark, thick blood coating your arms and running down the broken chains like fresh paint, small drops landing on the corpse lying beneath you.

“What have you done?” he asked quietly.

You whipped your head around to face him. In a rush of adrenaline, you shot your hand out towards him in a desperate attempt to wield the dark energy from moments ago. But it had abandoned you.

The syringe in the General’s hand flashed under the waning sunlight as he barreled towards you. The diazexacin.

You scrambled for your father’s body, frantically searching his uniform for a weapon. The barrel of a blaster peaked out from under his tunic, tucked neatly into his belt. Before ripping it free, the horrid question of what this blaster had been used for crossed your mind, but you pushed it away. You couldn’t dwell on that right now. 

Wrapping your trembling finger around the trigger, you turned to face the General, lifting the barrel to aim at his broad frame.

“Drop it,” he barked, searching his waistline for a weapon of his own.

Shakily, you pulled back on the cold metal, closing your eyes in anticipation of the discharging laser beam, but nothing came. Shit—the safety.

“Idiot,” Hux spat, raising the barrel of his own blaster and firing a shot.

You felt the impact immediately, the tearing of your flesh as the blast ripped through your shoulder, every bone in your arm seeming to shatter. The blaster in your hand clattered to the floor, echoing in the tiny room. The force of the fall released the safety, sending it flying forward until it hit the metal body of the gun with a soft ping, as if to mock you.

“A reckless, idiot girl who–”

The words died in his tongue as you swept your leg beneath his, buckling his knees and knocking him onto his back. His blaster flew from his grasp, landing meters away as it clattered against the jagged rock. 

You were frozen for a moment, waiting for any movement from him. Did you kill him, too? Though his skull hit the ground with the same force as his body, his chest finally rose and fell with shallow, slow, breaths. Strangely, you couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed.

“You talk too much,” you said, groaning as you pulled yourself to your feet and collected the two blasters, holding the smaller one weakly with your injured hand.

You clutched your limp arm against your chest to the best of your ability as you hurried through the hallway to the main chamber, blindly navigating the winding corridor as the edges of your vision turned black. 

When you reached the mouth of the doorway, you stopped in your path, using your good arm to lean against the wall for support. The nausea returned and you hunched over your knees, coughing violently to settle your stomach.

The chamber was empty, with only the flickering lights filling the space. It was an unsettling sight, but you were in no state for an outnumbered fight. There was no strategy in your escape from this prison, only pure instinct guiding you now. 

Distant voices rang throughout the fortress, quickly approaching you as you stood at the precipice of the room, forcing down the adrenaline that rushed through you. 

Just as you stepped into the room, you sensed an unmistakable presence, one that had grown more familiar to you than your own reflection. Immediately, you felt a calmness wash over you.

“Ben,” you whispered.

[desirepathzine]

Jeff Buckley Saved My Life in Orlando, Florida by Randi Eversole

In March of 2016, I was on a charter bus, headed towards Orlando, Florida. I was a senior in high school. The trip was with my Southern Baptist evangelical church choir. I did not want to be there.

The choir tour was a non-negotiable part of every year, a way for all of the concerned parents of young church goers to ship their kids off during spring break so they would spend it in service of the Lord and not mingling with all the other degenerates who were out of class. Ostensibly it was a week full of "volunteering" to some degree, singing at shelters and nursing homes, paying money to sing contemporary christian worship music in historic cathedrals. touring around whatever major city from the safety of the bus, so on. The trip was to a different scary big city every year. Prior to Orlando I had found myself in Chicago, the year before Chicago we'd done an actual tour, saving souls in Jacksonville/Florida, Savannah/Georgia, and Charleston/SC.

By the time we were halfway through Chicago, I had started to articulate issues I had with this mission, and indeed the Southern Baptist denomination of Christianity as a whole. By the time a senior trip to Orlrando, FL was announced, I saw it for what it was: an excuse to take a bunch of kids to Disney World under the banner of Christianity.

For the 12 hour bus ride to Orlando, I had prepped a few albums to listen to, as I usually did when headed somewhere new. I had discovered many favorite artists tucked away at the front of the bus (they usually made all the students sit in the back, but I was prone to motion sickness, so I always ended up at the front with all of the chaperones, who largely left me alone).

That year, my album picks had included Grace, Jeff Buckley's only album. I had of course been familiar, you couldn't sift through a single Tumblr playlist without coming into contact with Hallelujah. I vaguely knew somewhere that he had passed, that he was all of my favorite vocalist's favorite vocalist, that sort of thing.

For whatever reason, somewhere in Georgia, I decided now was the time to listen to Grace for the first time. And my download of the album had somehow not copied Mojo Pin, the album's first track, to my iPod so I indeed did start the record listening to the title track. I quickly fixed this mistake on returning home. Ancient problems from a different time, truly.

I did not listen to another record for the rest of the week.

Here was a friend, a person striving for authenticity, an artist coming into his power. All of the things I desperately craved both to be and to be around. It was a balm and a shield against all of the empty expressions of the music I was going to sing that week, the manipulative key changes and nonsensical lyrics. Here was something real and special.

So many lyrics were reaching through time to hold my hand, the beautiful melodies and vocal acrobatics elevating me, taking me away from the bus window view of the interstate, to somewhere I felt safe and seen.

I was alone in many ways that week, alienated from the religion I was raised in, alienated from my peers who maybe at one point had been my friends but had steadily pulled apart from me in the latter months of high school when it became clear we were not going to be compatible adults, bunking in a drafty Hyatt Place with roommates I really didn't know at all, who argued ceaselessly when we were supposed to be sleeping. I had been relegated to a pullout couch in an attempt to get some space.

As any anxious and isolated neurodivergent teen girl would in the circumstances, I went on a deep dive that first dark night in Orlando, far away from home and surrounded by strangers, into Jeff, his life, his work. I listened to interviews to keep the noise at bay. In my search, I found a picture of Jeff, holding a phone, on a portable bed, presumably talking to a journalist, doing press. I tracked down the location. It was a hotel somewhere in Orlando, Florida.

(photos by Merri Cyr)

It was like waving at someone in another dimension.

Two days into the tour I looked down at the t-shirts we all had to wear, a mish mash of Bible references and key words in the shape of a cross, printed on ugly mint green and coral orange t-shirts (the orange stained my bra for weeks, it was horrible). The choir was given a 'theme' every year for the tours, one inspirational word that was supposed to drive the spiritual growth of 9-12 graders. The year in Chicago had been the "restore" tour (which is extremely problematic the longer you dwell on it). "What's the tour name this year?" I blearily asked one of the chaperones. "Oh, it's the Grace tour. Make sure you use the hashtag."

The tour was the first time I encountered an actively hostile audience during any of the shows. Looking back that seems strange, but nonetheless. We often performed for unsheltered folks, who were forced to listen to us boisterously praise the Lord as they tried to get something to eat or were otherwise seeking support. The show in question took place in a parking lot where an extremely questionable Christian charity group set up once a week to attempt to convert anyone who needed a hot meal. Somewhere in the hour long set of worship music, teenagers banging on trash cans under the guise of performing STOMP (yes, like the off-Broadway thing, which no one even knew because it was such a dated concept by 2016), a capella chamber music (I did that too), and emotionally manipulative skits, one of the people in the crowd started to yell. I don't remember the exact verbatim statements, but it was along the lines of "Why are you singing when we need food, need shelter?"

That night, at the mandated debrief/devotional portion of the night before they finally let us all go to bed, many of my peers expressed that they had never thought of the work that way, as something that could be potentially a nuisance, bothersome, something people were forced to suffer through in order to have their basic needs met.

That was a question I had been asking myself for over a year at that point, ever since pretending to "restore" Chicago in 2015. Did anyone really find inspiration in a bunch of white middle class teenagers singing their little hearts out over Coldplay instrumentals? Did the sloppy manual labor we tried to do at various places for people in need really benefit anyone? Did tired building custodians go back in the day after and correct the naive mistakes of suburban teenagers who were not given any option other than to figure out ways to be helpful? Much ink has been spilled over the epidemic of teenage-centered volountourism from churches, sending unqualified children to do labor to get closer to God, etc. I was tired of treating people less fortunate than this community like pawns to achieve karma points. I was tired of singing bad music. I was tired of feeling like a ghost.

When we got back on the bus, or returned to the hotel, or had mildly unsupervised free time at venues, I would check back in with Jeff. I listened to So Real over and over again, its simplicity was spellbinding. One night they carted us to Disney Springs, the shopping district on Disney property, to burn off steam before getting ready for another day of presumably hard work. I was too tired to traipse around, half-heartedly tagging along with folks that seemed indifferent to my presence. I sat down with a shaved ice and watched a pair of living statues performing in the humid evening, bronze and vaguely Victorian looking, glimmering under the ambient theme park lights. I watched them work a crowd while I listened to So Real and briefly became lost in a story that to this day I cannot recall correctly, some short-lived idea about statues yearning to be real. I started crying, not helped by the schedule that left us overworked and under-rested, and a lack of access to protein and actual nutrients beyond pizza.

Every night, I thought of Jeff on a hotel bed, years ago, in the same place as me. Was he alone? Did his worldview, the questions he screamed out towards the end of Eternal Life, his propensity for diving into the biggest emotions, isolate him like they isolated me?

It's easy to fall in love with someone who has passed, it makes it easy to assign them traits you admire or romanticize their short life. I don't think I fell in love with Jeff in that way, although it is undeniable that he was beautiful. I didn't need lips to kiss, I needed a shoulder to cry on, and it felt like there was a beautiful friend helping me chart a course out of self-loathing and getting mired in philosophical mud.

The last night of the tour, before the Friday fun day when all pretense of work is thrown out to go to a theme park or explore safely curated areas of the city, it was expected that somebody, a youth pastor or the choir director or a well meaning chaperone, would give a sort of pious pep talk, asking us if we really believed all the things we were singing, or were we just having fun on a spring break trip? Anyone who is familiar with Cry Nights at evangelical summer camp knows this tactic. Overstimulate and exhaust young people with still developing brains, feed them a steady diet of sweets and carbohydrates, and then the claws of emotional manipulation will sink so much deeper. And then make them go sing a concert with exhausted voices and clogged sinuses from crying, where their emotions and convictions will run so high, that surely no one in the audience will go unmoved.

That last pep talk reared its ugly head before the last concert, as I presumed it would. But I didn't really listen, while the tears flowed around me. In my head, I was sitting across from Jeff Buckley at the pullout bed, quietly centering myself, trying to find peace in the midst of the chaos. We smiled at each other and said nothing in this vision.

I returned home, glad to be done with youth choir forever, vowing ot never go back to the church I had been raised in. (and also I finally listened to Mojo Pin since it didn't make it onto my iPod)

I was trying my best to give myself grace under strange and infuriating circumstances. Jeff taught me how. Being curious and sensitive is a strength, rage can fuel beauty, seeking authenticity is a worthy journey. That this situation was temporary and I would not have to live my life beholden to the whims of a religious institution that actively benefitted from my fears. Grace, real grace, given freely without the expectation of a transaction, is beautiful. I returned home, a week before my eighteenth birthday, and began the long process of figuring out what I actually believed, what I actually valued, and pursuing the things that filled me with joy at full speed, a road that I am still traveling.

[cellythefloshie]

;; The Nanny Diaries Chapter One of the Nanny Diaries Series

Chapters Table of Contents  

Summary: Lauren is struggling at home with the kids, and has been bugging TJ to let her hire some help. He has been ignoring it for sometime, but she’s desperate and will being going through with it with or without your help - accepting he will have to let a stranger into his home to help raise his children TJ reluctantly helps Lauren selected the new nanny and he chooses you.  Word Count: 1222 Note: This was posted mostly to just get it out of my drafts since this chapter has be done for a long time now. If you enjoy it, please let me know as this will probably be the fic I move on to once I wrap up on the road wife!

A nanny. The thought had left TJ scoffing as he sat slouched in his seat on the airplane. The light were dim around them as they set to take off for the next city. It was their first road trip of the season - or preseason rather - and it started with an argument. Lauren wanted more help with the kids, and TJ wasn’t going to be there to provide it.

TJ has suggested her parents come stay with them for a time, but Lauren wouldn’t have it. While TJ was not sure where his wife had gotten the idea of hiring a nanny, - maybe it had been one of the many mommy blogs she followed, or one of her friends over mimosas at brunch - but it wasn’t an idea she would easily give up on.

He had been loading his hockey bad into his car to take to the airport when He had spotted Lauren hovering by the door. She did not wear the usual frown that came with his departure for road games. This season she had been wearing a scowl, and in her hands she held small stack of folders. Lauren had waited until all his things were packed away before making it down the drive to TJ. He greeted her with an embrace and a lingering kiss in her blonde hair before he welcomed the cold folders into his hands. He hadn’t dared to question her, and welcomed her instructions:

I completed the interviews. Pick one before you get back, or I will.

And while TJ did not like the idea of having a stranger in his home to nanny their children TJ could no longer ignore the demands made by his wife. She needed time for herself, time she would not get while he was on the road and they needed more time together. The kids were taking more and more of Lauren’s attention as they grew and the distance between himself and his wife grew with them. The stress of his hockey career only made it worse on them - picking the nanny was the east he could do.

Laying out each folder in front of him on the table, TJ sighed out. His wife had narrowed it down to 6 women. Each folder had a resume, detailed notes from the interview and a photograph Lauren had taken.

TJ cussed out under his breath the photos had been taken in their living room. Lauren has already welcomed them into their home without his knowledge. He wanted to crumple up each of them where he sat, but instead he took a heavy breath and read over each one with care. Then he read them again. Until finally he had been able to weed out those he saw as nothing more than glorified baby sitters. It was then TJ was left merely with 2.

TJ took each file into his hands carefully, bringing them up close to reach each tiny note left by his wife that he could only hope would put him at ease and aid in his selection. A hand became lost in his dark hair, drawing it back from his eyes as he took in each word. Of his final two, they couldn’t seem to be more different. While one held many year of experience in many families, Lauren’s notes made clear that she was concerned about long term care.

Oshie shifted in his seat at the idea of a nanny staying with them for more than a few months, never mind years.

The other was near fresh out of a early childhood education degree, and had only worked for one family prior. But it hadn’t come without great esteem. Hell, the prior family had even included a written referral. Even Lauren had left bolder notes on her perfume scented paper: References spoke highly of her. Great with the kids AND and kids love HER. Young, will not have a hard time keeping up with the girls. Very enthusiastic and funny all while being professional.

Holding up each picture, TJ let out a sigh and leaned his head back against his seat. The choice should be easy - hell he was sure Lauren would be ecstatic that he had even made the time to look at the candidates she had provided him, never mind that he had managed to narrow it down to 2. His fingers toyed with the images, dulling the edges and creased the corners as he looked between the older woman would reminded him a little bit too much of Mrs. Doubtfire - but she should have been the obvious choice.

But then there was the photo of you. With your smile wide as you sat perched on one of the stools that rested along the kitchen island. You had one of their coffee mugs in hand, and your hair had come to frame your face so perfectly that the photo had almost seemed staged. You sat tall, confidently, but not so rigidly that you seemed intimidated. Your have was warm as you had looked to the camera, to Lauren, to him now as he looked down at the photo as if you were not a stranger but an old friend-

“Hey, give that back man!” TJ groaned through grit teeth at your photograph was ripped from his fingertips.

It was none other than Wilson who had become all too curious as to why TJ had been keeping to himself.

TJ watched impatiently as Tom settled down into the seat across from him, a smile splashing across his lips as he looked down at your picture. It was a devilish grin, one that TJ had come to know all too well after 2 seasons of playing alongside one another - hell, Tom has quickly come to feel like more of a little brother than a teammate. But that didn’t come without trouble.

“Who’s this,” Tom smirked from his seat, “she cute-”

“Cut it out man,” TJ lurched, his hands losing the first image to capture yours back from Wilson with ease. Before he could even realize the decision he was making, words were spilling from TJ’s mouth;  “That’s the girls new nanny and I don’t need anything crude coming out of your mouth!”

Tom’s hands came up in a silent surrender, his smile growing the tiniest bit wider at TJ’s words.

TJ was thankful he didn’t have to hear a single thought running through his teammates mine. He was sure they were the most family friendly of thoughts as he wasn’t wrong, you were cute. There would be no ignoring that.

His teammates would notice. The opponents would notice. He had noticed.

But it didn’t stop him from sending his words of approval to his wife.

Naturally, Lauren had both numbered and color coded them for his convenience.

With the message sent, TJ piled the papers and shoved them back into his carry on with less care than he had when Lauren had given them to him the first time. He placed his phone face down on the table in front of him and let his eyes shut slowly. Finally, he could put the stress of losing their first game and selecting the nanny behind him. For as he rested he prepared for game two and meeting you.

[storiesofstratos]

Chapter 0: Flash of Cold Snow

A memory of days long since past.

CW: Death, Child Abuse, Harm to Children.

I remember it. The air at the top of that mountain was cold, and wind whipped past me like it was intentionally trying to drown out the sounds of my parents talking. I remember my mother. Her face was contorted with fear, and tears pricked at the edges of her sapphire eyes as she pleaded with the man I assumed to be my father for something. His face was foggy, like someone had drawn scribbles over it, but his voice.. Gods, his voice sounded like the beating of a war drum, heavy, deep, and instilling a sense of dread in me.

“I won’t let you disappoint me again,” He said, approaching my mother with heavy footsteps, boots leaving imprints on the snow beneath his feet. “Your job was simple. Bare a child worthy of being my heir, of succeeding me. It was the simplest of commands, and what do you do? You bring me a useless brat, with no abilities to speak of. She’s absolutely worthless to me!”

“Please,” My mother begged the man as she dropped to her knees, shaking as the tears in her eyes threatened to spill over. “I just need another chance. I can do it right this time, I promise!” She attempted to speak again, but her words were cut short by that man’s hand around her neck. With ease, he lifted her up with one hand, and tears spilled forth from my mother’s eyes as she whimpered, unable to even plead for her life.

“It doesn’t matter now. I have plenty of test subjects that are more than promising. Much more promising than this thing you have brought into this world.” The disdain was clear in his voice. The people without those abilities were worthless, less than scum. Even at five years old, I could tell that much.

“Lily,” My mother’s voice called out, before once again being cut short, the sickening noise of her neck breaking by my father’s hand echoing out across the mountaintop.

“Mama!” I yelled out, running over to her corpse. My voice was hoarse, my heart was racing from the pure terror that wracked my body. “Why?” Was my simple question to the man who claimed to be my father. I didn’t even get an answer out of him as my body started to seize up, and I collapsed to the ground, unable to move or speak, yet perfectly aware of everything that was going on around me, paralyzed.

The next few moments were a blur. I could only see the overcast skies as my father lifted me and carried me away from my mother’s body. His hands held me steadily as he walked, almost as if he were trying to stop me from falling. It would have been a sweet gesture, if he hadn’t done what he’d just done. He stopped walking, and I wasn’t able to see what was going on around me, until I felt it. The sound of rushing wind filled my ears as he let me slip from his grasp, freefalling toward the ground below, my body hitting every single ledge on the way down to the valley below.

Pain. That was the only thing that I could feel. So deep, and excruciating that it consumed every inch of me, so complete that it choked my cries before they could even leave me. I laid there for what felt like an eternity, even after the paralysis began to wane, gripped so tightly by that pain that my body couldn’t move. It felt like hours had passed before I heard another voice.

“This is Genesis,” The woman spoke into a radio on her shoulder. “We found the kid. He just.. He tossed her off the side of the damn cliff.” She sounded disturbed, her voice shaky as she recounted what just happened to me. She knelt down right in front of me. “Don’t worry sweetie, you’re safe with us now.” She tried to sound comforting, but my ears were ringing, and I could barely hear her. “She’s alive,” She turned back to one of her associates. “But she looks like hell. I’m administering the serum now.” She pushed a needle into my arm. I started to feel numb, which felt like heaven compared to what I’d been feeling prior. I could feel my body moving. Bones snapped back into place, my flesh mending itself back, it took a while, but soon my body felt somewhat normal, instead of feeling like a shattered vase.

“You know he’s too far gone Rachel,” A man’s voice sputtered through the radio on Genesis’s shoulder. “The best we can do is extract the kid and hope she isn’t too messed up. We’re not going to let anyone else die because of him.”

“I know, Adrian. I just, look at her and I can’t help but think of the boys, or-”

“I know. I know. But they’re safe with Em, alright? I made sure of it,” A moment of silence passed before his voice came back. “Look, this mission is almost over. We can wrap up, then we can get back to the boys, okay? I love you, Rachel.”

“I love you too,” She sighed, trying to compose herself as she scooped up my body. “We’re extracting her now. Be at the LZ in twenty minutes.”

That’s where my memory always starts to get fuzzy.

“Hey kid,” I heard a man’s voice behind me, waking me from my stupor and bringing me back to the present. “You get lost in that head of yours? Come on, we gotta get goin. Boss is calling us.” He motioned for me to follow him as he left.

“Right,” I nodded and began to follow. Of course, now wasn't the time to focus on my childhood memories. I had to do as I was told.

If I didn’t, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I saw mom again.

[piercethelenn]

💫The Occult Club.

ㅤ

Chapter 19: Onix.

Warnings: Graphic blood, swearing, mentions of fainting and poisoning, death jokes. || Word count: 1,24k.

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Y/N’s heavy eyelids slowly opened to reveal an unfamiliar scenery, a livingroom to be precise. Her body felt sore all over from sleeping on an uncomfortable surface which she later identified as a two-body sofa, the headache at the back of her head had almost disappeared completely, but the medium was still in a lightheaded state. She took a moment to sit and take in the scenery, it was early morning, the sun was barely peeking from the roofs of the houses in the neighborhood. Jiji was there, too, sleeping soundly on the armrest, keeping a small crystal between his paws.

          一Oh, Y/N, you're finally awake一 She heard Jungwon’s familiar voice and turned her head to look at him with tired eyes, still unused to the daylight. He seemed a lot better than yesterday, more relaxed, with his calm aura surrounding him again; The girl wished the same could be said about her, but for now it was of most importance to catch up on everything that happened after she lost her consciousness. The tarotist placed a bowl of chips on the coffee table in front of her, an odd option for breakfast, she thought 一You passed out, remember?一 He said, as if he could read her mind from her confused expression alone 一Eating things with salt is important after fainting, it helps with the blood pressure, that��s why…一 He trailed off, awkwardly scratching his neck and avoiding her gaze.

          一I see一 Y/N cut off his embarrassment with a gentle smile 一Thank you so much for taking care of me一. Jungwon sighed in relief; He had no idea what to expect from the whole situation, all that he knew was that all of it was his fault, so he felt the obligation to do all those things for the girl, he owed her a favor.

          A few hours ago, the young leader had panicked as soon as Y/N fell onto his arms back at the cabin, but he was a quick thinker, so Jungwon immediately carried the girl bridal-style through the forest and back to his house (Just because he was a nerd did not imply that he had a weak physique). His grandma was already sleeping when the pair arrived, so he placed Y/N and Jiji, who luckily followed them, on the sofa. It was past midnight when Jungwon realized that he had been neglecting his phone the whole day, Riki’s missed calls did not surprise him, though. The alchemist made sure to make an excuse for Y/N’s parents, which Jungwon was very thankful for.

          The boy had more than enough time to digest all the things he heard from the medium’s mouth, since he stayed, yet again, the whole night staring at the white ceiling of his bedroom. Amidst all the events that took place the night prior, he felt strangely at ease, like a video game character who successfully cleared one of the core missions in the story.

          一Jungwon… Jungwon? You there?一 She called while waving a hand in front of his face, making him re-focus his attention on her. Was he daydreaming again? 一What is this crystal for?一 She held the tiny rock on the palm of her hands, it was a miracle that she retrieved it without waking Jiji up.

          一Ah, that’s an onix一 Jungwon sat beside the girl, who had finished all the chips without him even noticing 一Jake gave it to me once, it’s used to help you keep your feet on the ground, like an anchor… I didn’t want you to faint again一 Y/N debated on asking him about the reason why he needed it in the first place, but decided not to pry, as the tarotist had already shared so much of his personal life with her in the span of a few hours. 一I’m sorry一 He continued, as he got up to take the empty bowl back to the kitchen 一It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have asked you to do it一.

          Y/N followed him to the kitchen 一Are you kidding me?一 Of course she understood why he was blaming himself, but it’s not as if Jungwon knew something like that could happen after keeping a connection with the underworld for longer than her mortal body could resist. 一After all you did for me? Of course I would’ve helped you on something so important like that!一.

          Jungwon took a sponge and started washing the bowl, along with other dishes his grandma had left from cooking dinner last night. 一All I did for you? You mean putting spells on you without your consent?一 His hands were shaking, he almost dropped a plate into the sink 一Enabling you to work with us on something that risks your well-being? Making you faint in the middle of the forest at night? That kind of help?一 He took the rubber gloves off and stared at her with an expression Y/N had never seen before… Exasperation?

          The air tensed around them, it was a relief that Jungwon’s grandma was still asleep, they both shared the thought. It was not usual for the tarotist to lose his cool, and for every second of silence that passed, he regretted low-key blowing up on her. But Y/N seemed unaffected, instead of frowning at him or leaving the house, she did something totally unexpected.

          She hugged him. Tight enough to make him feel breathless.

          Jungwon had started the morning feeling well, or at least that’s what he thought; The emotional stability he built up overnight ended up being a fragile mask made of glass, because now, his entirety was crumbling again inside the girl’s warm embrace.

          一Please stop, don’t blame yourself anymore一 her voice was muffled. Jungwon took a few moments to recover from the shock and return the hug. 一Your friends told me…一 Sunghoon, most likely, the boy assumed 一...About all the things you have done to help me, even back when I was just a stranger to you… Thanks to you I discovered my true identity, I could let go off the toxic friendship I had with Jay and Heeseung, you found my precious Jiji… you gave me chips for breakfast一 She giggled at that, but even if Jungwon could not see her face, her tone delated how she was making a little joke to hide her true emotions. 一You went through a lot, Jungwon, it’s okay to feel wronged… But instead, you always think you are the one in the wrong, even when it’s out of your control…一 She softly patted his back 一Please let me, let us, the whole club, share your burdens. I know your mother told you that you had to protect us, but…一.

          Y/N paused to back up from the hug, holding his hands instead 一Jungwon, I want to protect you, too. Let me take care of you from now on一 He was at loss of words, his mind went blank trying to process what he just heard.

             They both stared at each other in silence, until the voice of an old woman was heard from the kitchen’s door. 一Good morning, children!一 She smiled at them, a dimple identical to the one in her grandson’s cheek appeared, making her expression look ten times friendlier. 一Oh, you must be Y/N, I heard so much about you! Are you staying for lunch?一.

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[sansloii]

"…Can you tell me about how you met mom? And how you started seeing each other? I know I've asked before, but..." But it was something of a comfort story. And Ezra felt like he needed that, right now. The request (and subsequent pause) comes after a long period of silence between them, as Ezra looks through some of the old records Roderick kept at the house. It was obvious that his father knew something was up, but honestly, the last thing Ezra wanted to talk about at that moment, was Andris. Even if he couldn't stop thinking about the blonde, and their...argument? If it could even be called that. Why did love and dating have to be so difficult, anyway? "And...do...do you think you could ever love anyone like that, again...?"

The request ( and subsequent question ) doesn't come as much of a surprise to the older man, as Ezra had come back in quite the mood. The raven was silent a little… mopey, eyes never staying in his direction for long before they drifted elsewhere and, notably, in time with Roderick looking over to him. He'd been crying — he knows his son had been crying — and the thought of that makes him… less than happy. Knowing that he'd likely been with that blonde he's been so captivated with ( Andris, he thinks his name was ) prior to coming home only added to the displeasure slowly growing in the back of his throat.

…However, for Ezra's sake, he swallows it before he opens his mouth to speak.

“With how many times you've asked me to tell you that story, I'm half tempted to get it published for you.” the man jokes, offering Ezra a light-hearted smile. “That way, you can just read it whenever you need it…I'll still tell it to you if you ask but…”

The man trails off for a little bit and the silence is followed by a soft “Anyway…" and a low clear of his throat, with him now moving from his spot in the sitting room to close the distance between he and Ezra. “We met multiple times, actually… but I don't think I'd count the first few times because I didn't really talk too much to her. I think It was mainly with… whichever parent was with her, honestly — her dad mostly. The times she was there, she tended to be doing something else… or reading — like she didn't really want to be there — so I left her be. Maggie'd tell you that she didn't and her parents dragged her out to… teach her how to take her car in, I think? It was something like that.”

“Maybe a month or so after I last saw her, I'm driving back from an afternoon shift in my truck and… I see her stuck on the side of the road, pacing up a storm in front of what I think was her brand new car. I was gonna stop anyway — given that I'd seen her face before — but she wanted to make sure I did. Waved her arms at me, stepped a little bit into road, called out, and made herself impossible to miss so I'd pull over. So I did.”

“She was panicking because her car wouldn't start and she didn't know why. Turns out her engine in her shiny car was faulty. It had some issue that I can't even begin to remember but the bottom line was that it needed to be towed back to the shop to be fixed.” It's at this point that Roderick lets his smile warm. “So I proceeded to do just that. She doesn't ask many questions and just goes with it up until she's getting in the truck and I'm asking her if she wants to be dropped off at home before I take her truck 'cause it's late and she says no — says something to the effect of “Coming back late gets me a lecture. Coming back without my car is like signing my death sentence."…and I don't know — the way she said it just stuck with me. It wasn't anything special and I'm sure anyone else in her situation would've said the same… but there was just something about it — about her, you know?”

Roderick reaches out to pick up a vinyl record out of the many that Ezra was idly thumbing through, offering it to him. “We ended up spending a lot of time talking on the way there… and when I was fixing up her car. At first, it was just us complaining about… her “new” car and me shitting all over how it runs and her chiming with the absurb price of it all. After that though… we just talked. We talked and talked until her car was up and fixed and she was ready to take it home…and sure enough, I became her go-to whenever she was having trouble.”

“I don't think I'll have a connection with someone else like I did with Maggie. There was something special to her — something that I don't think I can really see in anyone else. The time that I met her, the type of person I was at that point, the type of person I became because of her…” The man pauses a moment, lips still parted to speak but no words leaving him; a sigh escapes him instead, lips pursed as he shakes his head.

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, no one could stand in his heart the way Magdalena did. Even gone, she still had a hold over him--had his heart in a vice that found himself finding comfort it time and time again. To say he missed her was a far too simple understatement…. but, at the same time, he couldn't think of anything he could say that would do what he felt for her justice.

…

“…I don't know if I'd ever be able to find something like that in someone else but that's just me. I loved her with… everything I had and everything I was. Something like that never quite leaves you, even if you're apart.” he tells Ezra, “But it's not a bad thing to realize that… to know that. I don't think that you should love anyone the same, exact ways as you've loved someone in the past… because that's not fair to them. You didn't fall in love with someone else because they were the same as someone you knew but because you found something to love about them. Loving someone deeply is a given… that's a constant… but it's always different from person to person.”

“…Does that help answer your question?”

@soulsxng

[dkniade]

Soliloquy of the Crystal Flower

Warning: intrusive thoughts and self-blame, implied character death, dissociation, detailed descriptions of being triggered, no comfort

Setting: AU where Rhinedottir killed Alice a year ago or so, which sparked a confrontation and battle between Albedo and Klee. Albedo is dealing with the trauma of this conflict in a soliloquy.

Comment: Maybe I just wanted to explore something darker haha. Also a test on how to get information across in a soliloquy.

Seeing that the only thing in front of me is this heart, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to be honest. 

“Durin, if you would allow me to confide in you this evening… After all, this is my proper camp.”

…

The destruction that followed that conflict was not Klee’s fault. She’s merely a child, after all. I should’ve anticipated her anger. I should’ve calmed her down instead of engaging in combat with her. Of course, people—children—get upset when their parents are deceased. Have I not observed this in my early days in Mondstadt? Yet look where this lack of understanding has brought me now. Oh Durin… Do I destroy everything I touch?

As for alchemy… The Art of Khemia especially is a dangerous art. I cannot demonstrate it in front of others. It shouldn’t be practised without proper precautions, lest I one day destroy Mondstadt and its people. 

…

But pure theory and explanations would not be helpful to my students, even those intelligent as Sucrose. And really, if I cannot explain my hypotheses, experiment setups, and conclusions without examples, then what good is this knowledge? What would Master do in this situation? Would she be disappointed in me?

Master…

Master has taken a life… Whether it was accidental or intentional, she did not explain in her letter all those years ago. Am I meant to piece together the clues myself, just as I always have for her other assignments? 

The truth of this world… I had once thought it’d bloom before me like the seed from another world, but the truth is not kind. I had revealed the… truth, of my origins, and instead of clarity, there was only more confusion and hurt and betrayal. I don’t understand. Master had always told me to be clear in explaining my thoughts, and I had done that exactly towards Klee, so why did I receive her rage?

…

Perhaps that was the mistake.

Am I, then, meant to keep the truth to myself? Yet how should one build connections without constant exchanges of information? Isn’t that what Alice had always told me? Alice… She had entrusted Klee in my care, yet as soon as she had passed, Klee and I… 

Klee… I wonder if she is happy at the Dawn Winery. Are they treating her kindly with the warmth she deserves? Master Diluc also possesses a Pyro Vision, and it is without a doubt that he possesses the fine skills necessary in utilizing the Vision. He’d be more patient in teaching her how to master it, though as for how she’ll use this power… Well, I’m sure both Master Diluc and Captain Kaeya would serve as better guides than I.

…

Fire. 

I don’t understand. In theory, it keeps me warm in Dragonspine, but no matter what, I cannot bear even the sight of it. Who knew a violent explosion of steaming vapour resulting from our conflict would affect me to this degree? Had I been like this prior to it? What were my typical reactions to fire prior to that event?

My heart rate and breathing increases, and my body grows colder than usual. However, it’s hard to differentiate between my usual body temperature and my body’s reaction to this stimulus. Dragonspine’s natural climate is already troublesome and undesirable.

Dragonspine…

Dragonspine is no doubt a dangerous place, yet it’s the only place far enough from Mondstadt for me to stay in. Should I lose control, Dragonspine would take the damage first before I arrive at Mondstadt, and… Archons, Klee already holds a strong distaste for me because of that night. No doubt she’d tell the rest of the knights, and then it won’t be long until the Acting Grandmaster issues my exile from Mondstadt. And what of Sucrose and Timaeus? Would they still trust me? Would they still want to practise alchemy? And the Cavalry Captain? He often takes care of Klee when on duty. What would he think of me? And Master Diluc? His sense of justice is no doubt one of the strongest in Mond. And I, who hurt the Knights’ youngest member… Would the three of them turn against me? Would I be isolated yet again, just as I was when I first arrived at Mondstadt all those years ago? Oh, Barbatos…

Master… I don’t know what to do… I’m sorry…

…

Why did I receive a Vision that night? I had nothing to prove. Had the weather been a little harsher, has the snowstorm ensued for a little longer in combination with Klee’s explosions, I… I almost certainly would not have survived. And why must I receive a Cryo Vision of all the possible elements? Was it a reminder of that night? Of how I had destroyed Klee’s happiness and trust? Of how I had destroyed alchemy’s reputation? Of how I had failed to keep the only close connection I had so shortly after Alice had—

My collarbone! What is this coldness? Pain?!

No enemies around. Is this a result of Durin’s energy corrupting the mountain? No, but it shouldn’t result in a cold sensation on my body, seeing that this heart is one of the warmest places in the mountain. What then? Sudden coldness should be a result of—

Hurts—! What’s this? My head is spinning… Need to get down. A gloved hand? My hand…? It’s connected to me; it must be my hand. Cold… White… Snow? Am I on the ground? Wasn’t I just standing a second ago? 

No, stay calm. Think rationally! Why am I cold?

Can’t be Durin’s corruption. The snow in this cave does not normally feel this cold. Hypothermia? But the structure of the cave should prevent any strong chill of wind from entering. Seems the snow does not intend to stop any time soon. Snow… White snow… Red… 

Klee…

“I hate you, Albedo!”

Klee, I’m sorry…

“I hate stupid alchemy!”

I’m sorry… I only wanted the truth…

“Just disappear already!! Go away!”

…

“I shall sleep beneath this white, shining silver... and perhaps this, too, is good. To curl up like this beside Durin himself is the best course of action for me, who is undeserving of the Vision that I was—“

The Cryo Vision! That’s the perpetrator. Where is it? My collarbone feels— Got it. 

“Begone!”

Ah, the cold remains, still, but it’s eased significantly. I’m still on the ground. Get up… Get up.

Durin… Where… Is this my table? No, the crucibles and beakers are on the other side. The texture and size of this rock… This heat… I must be at the foot of it now. Finally. Oh, Durin…

What do I know for certain? The Art of Khemia, can I still…?

Come… into being…!

Good. I can still summon this dried ley line branch. Despite it no longer being a part of a tree, it still retains its beauty. But without nutrients from the tree, it wouldn’t survive for long.

“We’re the only ones who remain, Durin... Thank you for lending me your ear this evening. It seems the snowstorm has no intention of stopping any time soon, but you keep me warm in this cave. My equipment should be the only unchanging thing in this world. Everything else…”

The truth of this world… Perhaps I can still find it on this mountain, even if I must do it alone… Even if tonight, I…

.

.

.

[scarletk537]

(Just a little fanfic that comes to my mind for awhile. I suck at writing fanfics.)

"Here we are, make yourself at home, dear."

The door of the apartment open wide as the man enters the apartment. Alongside there was a girl, who also enters with a curious look on her face. Inside it was different, compared to the other apartments. The wall is coloured bright grey and the books stacked on the shelf, including a clock and a tiny pencil case. There was a big blue chair and beside it was a tall plant. On the front stood a table with a bonzai tree on top. Beneath the table it was a yellow rug and the floor is green. The window has bright pink curtains tied neatly.

The girl looks around the surroundings of the man's apartment with an awe.

"Looks pretty, isn't it?" The man asked. "Much better than what's outside though. But, not bad much."

"It was nice, mister," the girl replied. She never seen an apartment that was simple and beautiful on the inside, compared to her room back at home.

"Would you like something to drink?" the man asked. "No thanks, I'll pass," the girl replied. "You sure?" the man asked. The girl nodded. "Well, I better get a glass of water, just in case if you want a drink," the man said. The girl reluctantly agreed and the man smiles as he went to the kitchen.

As the time passes, the girl stared quietly at the man, who is reading a book on another chair, not far distance from where she sat. The man look up from the book and noticed the girl is staring at her. "What's wrong, child?"

"Nothing, it's just that..." the girl began. "You're so kind to me and worried about my safety. I thank you for helping me out."

The man smiled. "It was nothing, dear. Besides, it's too dangerous for you to wait for your parents all by yourself out there." The girl lets out a sigh and nodded in understanding. It's true that standing around waiting all by yourself, without a proper company is very dangerous. Even for an innocent girl like her. But she was lucky that the man helped her.

Several hours prior, the girl was met by the man, who saw her sat in the bench by the river alone. He asks her what is she doing all by herself. She replied that she is waiting for her mother, but the man didn't see her mother arriving yet. The man, taking pity of the child, asking her to come with him to his home. The girl declined at first, but seeing how kind and generous he is, insisted to bring her with and care for her safety, she obliged and go with him.

The man clears his throat and spoke, "So, you said that your parents are Claude Speed and Sereena Lane, right?"

The girl nodded affirmatively, along with confusion. At first hours earlier, when the man asked about their names, she replied 'Sereena Lane' and 'Claude Speed', he was stunned for a moment before brushing it off. "Why do you ask that? Did you know them? Have you met them, sir?"

"Well, not really," the man said with a chuckle. "I've heard those names from the news and people in the streets. And such. But not entirely seeing them personally. I never thought one man could survive the onslaught of a bloody gang war and stuff. Pardon my language there. Sorry."

"Oh..." the girl seems a little suspicious about him. The man, seeing the suspiciousness in her, he put the book and gets up from the chair and dragged another chair and sat it facing another chair. "Take a sit, dear," the man complied as he sat on the chair. She obliged and stood up from the seat and sat on another chair, a similar chair, facing the man.

The man began. "Let me tell you about something. You see, there was a guy I met back in Britain. I forgot his name, but he is, shall I say, some bloke of a man, with a heart."

The man continues. "Just like your father, he was a criminal, but he was not the same age as your father much. A bit older than the latter. But the man somehow moved out of his criminal life and focus on new succesful life. As years go by, we both met at the cafe and have a conversation and such. Then suddenly, he told me that he wants to fly to America, and I ask why? Was it for a holiday or a business trip? He said that um... he is looking for someone."

"Someone? Who?" the girl asked.

"Someone whom, he haven't seen for such a long time. A close relative he says, whom he never met yet. Probably a long lost brother or sister something, I guess. When he told me about that, he's started to weep for a bit. He said he didn't know he had a lost relative and it was really sad, that he didn't had the chance to see that person. He wants to see how they are doing, where are they now, or something like that. I felt pity for that poor man, though I don't understand why. I comfort him and wishes him good luck before we departed in different direction," the man explained. "I don't know who is that person because he never tell me before we left apart. And that was it. That was the last time I've seen him before he left Britain to America."

After finished the man's story, the girl sat silently for a moment before asking, "Has the man found them?"

The man shook his head in response. "No, not really. Yet, he won't giving up finding them. Even if it kills him. Or... I don't know. That person is probably out there somewhere."

"Then, what are you coming here for, mister?" the girl asked. "Are you looking for that same man, or you both had in common? A lost relative in America?" The man went silent for a moment before showing a small smile. "To me, not really. Just on a holiday. Actually, before we departed, he did say to me who he shall soon find."

"Who is it?" the girl questioned with a curious look. The man's smile wasn't faded yet and replied:

"He is looking for his child. His lost child. A son, perhaps..."

_______________________________________

Screenshot image and the characters were made by me. Also, this is the Gacha version of Sereena's (@ashmirkier) daughter based on my drawing I post on Twitter. This fanfic takes place after the Holy Trilogy, a fanfiction made by @ashmirkier on Archive of Our Own website. The Reaper Man is finished, now that's left the Harwood Butcher and Grove Street King, I think.

[sonofahero]

🏺︰ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝟎𝟏𝟑

A Godly Companion!

TW: Mentions of Parental Death. Evan had got on a walk alone into the forest. The canopy of overgrowth blocking most sunlight except for the rays of heat breaking through the leaves. A lot plagued the young Godling's mind, his mother was at the forefront of those thoughts, the thoughts of this world's Evan growing up without his mother, without Corey, without all of the love and support that he was given. The Second thought was what came of him, he answered his heartsong early, at seventeen not to mention he was born almost nine years prior to his birthday. Without that love and support, Evan of this timeline turned to his father, who was the Norse God Tyr...what does Tyr think of a man who looks just like his son, now the son of Heracles? But as Evan walked down the overgrown path, he saw a break in the treeline he hadn't noticed before, as he stepped through, in front of him was a small clearing, scattered with White Lilies, it was beautiful. He could feel the energy radiating off this place and remembering the note given to him about a ritual, this seemed like the best place to do it. He hadn't much at camp, having not joined in this timeline, so he had to rummage around and find some nice trinkets to offer up. He took off his shield, a shield that he had grown to like, but with this new world, he wanted a different way of fighting, to be more in the action and not hiding from it. Second, was a guitar pick that he kept in his bag of holding, it was Corey's guitar pick, Evan having grabbed it from Corey's cabin when he was packing up the Godling's belongings. Third was a club that he found around his cabin, a symbol of Heracles and certainly something to offer up. He placed the items in the middle of the field, taking a step back: " Divine Song within my veins, The sun was warm and set and orange hue over the field, the sun was soon setting. Hear my call beyond the planes It will be cold soon, the sun almost over the trees and the moon to come out. I pronounce my intentions to thee, But Evan would have someone to love, some to be by his side during this heartache,. Appear for me now and equals we shall be. He took one more breath: Not master and servant nor collar or chain But partner to partner, equals in name. I call you forth, and bind together An eternal bond that last forever." Tears were in Evan's eyes as he moved to sit down in the field, he felt a pressure pull off him, the sun almost gone, and a rustling the bushes just beyond the field, something was coming.

[redrobin-detective]

After Death

He did not love me living; but once dead He pitied me; and very sweet it is To know he still is warm though I am cold. ~ Christina Rossetti 

_____________________________________

Bruce can say the time, down to the second, the greatest tragedies in his life occurred. And most of them, his parents, Jason, Clark, Damian, Dick for a brief moment, centered around death. But Bruce can’t name the time, day or even month when he lost Tim. And though it should bring comfort to know his boy still breathed, in a way the loss burned sharper than the others.

The first time Bruce had noted something was wrong was when he came back from the dead, thanks largely in part to Tim’s efforts. While he hadn’t expected things to remain frozen while he had gone, certain changes had certainly surprised them. Dick’s short but meaningful tenure as Batman with Damian as his Robin being one. They had performed well for Gotham and Bruce was proud to call them his sons. Truly, he had been blessed. 

But in the days and weeks following his return, he noted the absences as well as the presences. No overturned sneakers and a skateboard in the entryway waiting for someone to trip on. Walking into the kitchen and finding it smelled of spices instead of overly strong coffee. A lack of distracted mutterings at his elbow, spindly fingers tapping on his arm. When he looked in on Tim’s room and found it abandoned, he should have done something. Instead, he’d just closed the door.

Dick had awkwardly explained some of what had happened while he’d been gone. Excuses and justifications that should have sent off alarm bells but he too hadn’t wanted to disturb the gentle peace. In the weeks preceding his almost death, the constant bickering between Tim and Damian had driven them all half mad. While arrogant and aggressive, at least Damian was quiet and so Bruce didn’t question what the silence had really been screaming at him.

Months passed with hardly a word from Tim outside of mission and short, sporadic and oftentimes fraught meetings when they did. But things had been so busy: resettling into his life, getting used to then losing then reviving Damian, Batman Inc… The child who had once been his rock faded to the back of his mind, not forgotten but not entirely within sight. All the signs had been there, clear as day, and he’d missed them until the final blow came. It was like watching that mugger jump out in front of his parents all over again. But unlike the swift end of a bullet in the night, this particular death dragged on and on. 

If he really had to pick a moment when he first noticed things had gone very, very wrong, it would probably be about a month prior to the revelation. He’d called Tim’s phone as Red Robin, he’d had a question about a recent case and found the line had been disconnected. Strange but not too concerning, Tim changed phones and numbers like he did hats. Only when he called Tim’s civilian number and got the same cheery message did he worry as Tim always updated the family with the latest information. Jason and Damian started arguing over patrol routes and Bruce let the matter drop for a moment but made a note to check in later.

Later ended up being much later than he’d intended. He’d expected Tim to drop by the Manor at some point, to come to the Cave for maintenance, to patrol. But his room and work station continued to be empty and gather dust.

“Does anyone know what Tim has been up to? I haven’t seen him around much lately.” He asked during a post patrol snack. He eyed Tim’s unused locker, shut up tight and secure.

“He’s been in San Fran a lot lately,” Dick said around some chips. “Plus busy with WE stuff. I tried to stop by and see him at the office the other day and Tam totally blew me off,” he let out an annoyed huff. “Like I need an appointment to see my little brother.”

“I see the Replacement on patrol every once in a while,” Jason grumbled. Having him here in the Cave, alive and without threats of violence, was a miracle in and of itself. Sometimes Bruce can’t help but look at him with love and awe. “He keeps to himself and his territory though; I agree with Goldie that he’s pretty much saving all his cape stuff for the coast.” 

“Why are we even talking about Drake? It’s not like his presence makes any difference,” Damian announced, a haughty tone in his voice.

“Damian!” Bruce and Dick scolded at the same time. The boy startled, looking genuinely surprised by the outburst. Jason stole Dick’s chips and watched with wary eyes. 

“Don’t talk about Tim that way, even if he’s not here. He’s a part of this family and deserves to be treated with respect,” Dick chastised. Damian looked upset but still a bit confused.

“You sure about that, Dick?” Jay asked, his voice casual but low. “Because pretty much every time I saw Bat Brat and Replacement in the same room, and granted it has been a while, the little guy was hurling all sorts of insults and jibes at him. Don’t think I ever saw any of you jump to his rescue then, so why should you do it now when he ain’t here?”

“I-” Dick defended before falling silent, looking over at Damian with a hurt expression. “I mean, yeah, Dami and Tim like to bicker but it wasn’t that bad, was it? And he wasn’t in a good place, when he first came. I mean, he was just a kid.”

“So was Replacement last I checked,” Jason countered lazily.

“I tried to call both of Tim’s phones a few weeks back,” Bruce interrupted, his boys turning to look at him. All but the one who was missing. “Said they were disconnected. Did he forward his new contact information to any of you?”

“No,” Dick frowned, reaching into his pocket for his phone and tapping Tim’s contact information. Like before, the automated voice said the number was no longer in service. His eldest bit into his lower lip before standing up and stalking towards the bikes. “Something is wrong, I’m gonna go to his place.”

“And what if he’s not home?” Jay called over, “what if he doesn’t want to see you?” Dick stopped in his tracks. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything because it’s not my problem but Replacement hasn’t been over in at least a month. I think your little bird has flown the nest for good.”

“A month?” Dick scoffed, “don’t be dramatic, it hasn’t been a month. I was just talking to him…” a pause. He looked at his phone again, searching for something. “It says, my last text with him was 5 weeks ago but that can’t be right. Bruce, that’s not- Tim isn’t...”

Bruce had sighed and rubbed at his eyes, too exhausted by the conversation. He loved his children but always felt too slow, too tired, too weak to deal with them. To attend to Dick’s need for assurance, Damian’s wide eyed confusion, Jason’s casual amusement and now Tim’s not so sudden but stark absence.

“It’s late, we’ll go as a family tomorrow and visit Tim. We have to find out what’s going on and clear up any misunderstandings. Now all of you, to bed,” he announced. Damian went to Dick’s side, the two of them whispering quietly as they ascended the stairs. Jason walked over to his motorcycle, going back to his safe house.

“Jason,” he called out, “what do you know about all this?”

“I don’t know nothing, old man, I promise,” Jason said, continuing his leisurely stride towards the bike. “I just know what it feels like to be replaced. Now I spent a lotta time watching the kid, back when he was wearing the R and the kid is stubborn as a mule.” He held his helmet and made eye contact with Bruce. “All’s I know is if the kid really did leave, there ain’t no chance of him coming back. See ya, B.” He put on his helmet and drove off.

Despite his miraculous resurrection, Jason was no more mythical than the rest of him. But his words felt like an ill omen anyway. Bruce had gone up to his bedroom and tried to sleep but found he couldn’t. Instead he tried to remember the last conversation he’d had with Tim which didn’t end in an argument. He was still thinking by the time the sun rose. 

Breakfast was a quick affair, Bruce and Dick eager to get going. Damian mostly toyed with his tofu sausage and toast, a thoughtful frown on his face. 

“So he really hasn’t been by?” Dick whined to Alfred, as if that would change the answer.

“I’m afraid Master Timothy has been rather scarce lately and I fear it was out of choice rather than necessity,” Alfred said sadly, finishing his cleaning. “I asked him, the few times he was here collecting his things. He simply stated that he wouldn’t stay where he wasn’t wanted.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Bruce growled, gripping his coffee mug tightly. Alfred shot him a dirty look. 

“I accept fault for my own part in Master Timothy’s absence but I cannot take responsibility for being a poor father,” his hard gaze fell on Dick and Damian, “or a poor brother.” The room was silent save for his cleaning. “Now, you best be off. If you do see the lad, if he deigns to speak to you, tell him that he is sorely missed by me.”

They made their way across town and knocked on his door. Stephanie Brown answered, blinking sleepily. She was only Batgirl part time, trying to focus more on college but still went out when she had time or during big crises. Had Tim and Stephanie gotten back together?

“Hey Steph, sorry to wake you,” Dick said distractedly, looking over her head for a sign of his brother. “Tim here? Kind of important.”

“Tim hasn’t lived here in almost 3 months,” Stephanie said with a flat, disappointed look, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s been letting me sublet at low cost so I could move out of my mom’s house.” Her eyes slid over all three of them. “Can’t believe it really took this long for all of you to notice, and you call yourselves detectives.”

“Where is he?” Damian demanded before Bruce could. Steph just tilted her head with the same amused smile Jason had worn last night, like they were privy to a sad, private joke. 

“Little late for you to be showing concern, Dames,” Stephanie huffed. “Not my story to tell but he should be at the office. Tell Tam I sent you and she’ll let you pass. Maybe,” she shrugged and started to close the door. “We all did Tim dirty but at least I had the courtesy to apologize and not let him walk out of my life. Now I got Poetry 201 in an hour, so please leave.” The door shut resolutely but not before Dick started speed walking down the hall with Damian’s wrist in his hand.

“Come on B!” Dick huffed, “We have to get to Timmy and fix this!” Bruce followed after, dazed, wondering if this particular problem was something that could be fixed. This wasn’t an active crime, this was a cold case. The evidence had been collected and cataloged months ago but was only now seeing the light of day. Bruce knew better than most that those cases often remained cold with no closure for the victims or their families.

The drive to Wayne Enterprises was slow, early morning traffic trying Dick’s patience as he leaned over from the passenger seat to bang on the horn a few times. As he rolled down the window to yell at someone, Damian fiddled with his phone in the back looking younger than normal. But they made it to the building, parked and got to the executive elevator to take them to Tim’s suite. 

“Ok, we all know what to say, right?” Dick beamed, the edges of his smile frayed. Bruce and Damian looked at him blankly. “We love you, Tim. We miss you. Come home.” Dick huffed, his smile dropping as he jammed his finger on the top floor button. “God no wonder Tim left.” He grumbled quietly to himself. 

They were surprised to see Jason lounging on one of the plush chairs reading when they got there. He glanced at them but kept his nose in his book.

“Jeez, I thought I’d be waiting all day for you drama queens. Kid really don’t mean nothing to you, does he?” Jay asked, pulling a bookmark out and marking his place. 

“That’s not-” Dick started but Jason silenced him, tucking his book into his inner pocket.

“Whatever, I talked to Tamara, Tam, whatever. Gave her the low down, she’s pretty pissed at you guys but is letting us in. Guess the kid has paperwork for you to sign.”

“And why are you here Jason?” Bruce asked softly, feeling so out of his depth he didn’t know what to do.

“Curiosity and maybe a little bit of admiration really,” the casually cruel smile fell off Jason’s face into something more vulnerable. “Maybe I’m just jealous that the kid has the strength to pull himself out of this toxic orbit. If he keeps this up, I might almost like him.” He stalked forward, knocking on the door to Tim’s office before stepping in. He kicked the door open the rest of the way for them to follow. 

Upon seeing Tim for the first time in what Bruce had to admit was several long weeks, the first thing he noted was that Tim looked good. He’d finally trimmed his hair from its unruly perpetual bedhead, his face was clear, his skin even had a healthy tan to it. But his eyes when he turned to them were cold, politely disinterested as if the Waynes were just his childhood neighbors and nothing more.

“Good morning, I’m glad you came. If you didn’t come by the 6th I would’ve had to call you,” Tim said. He pulled some papers out of his drawer and set them before Bruce. A pen was plucked off the table and slammed somewhat forcefully on top. He looked up with no malice but none of the adoration Brucee had grown used to seeing.

“First document with the blue paperclip officially dissolves the adoption including any inheritance, obligations and attachments that go with it. I officially dropped the Wayne name last month but this should be the last of the paperwork. Second document with the red paperclip,” Tim continued on as if Bruce’s world wasn’t dropping out underneath him. “-is you accepting my resignation as an employee of Wayne Enterprises at the end of the quarter. I also included a clause where you take back my shares as majority stockholder.” Tim smiled, “I’ll even give you to them for free for services rendered in the past.” 

“Damn,” Jason whistled under his breath beside Dick who was still as a statue, jaw open in weak disbelief.

“Third document with the yellow paperclip,” Tim said, “Officially releases my parents' trust to me and disentangles our finances. I’m still emancipated but without your signature, I legally can’t access that money.” Tim concluded, clearly frustrated. He pushed the documents closer.

“Just sign on the line and I will officially be out of your life,” Tim nodded. “I’ll finish up the quarter, which ends in 2 weeks. Steph will keep renting the house but I’ll leave my other properties for special use. I’m retiring my name, it was only supposed to be a temporary costume anyway and by the end of the month, I will be in California. I’ll be there for at least a few months working on some projects but I’m looking at doing work overseas before the end of the year. I’d love to visit Cass in Hong Kong. Anyway, from here on out, we are distant colleagues and nothing more.”

“Tim,” Dick breathed softly before the words exploded out. “Tim what the- what the fuck is this? You can’t just leave! You can’t just say we’re not family with a few signatures! I-I don’t even know what to say to you,” Dick shouted, gripping his hair and pacing in a circle. “Look, kiddo, let’s talk about this. We- yeah, me and B, we made mistakes but you don’t just walk out on people! That’s insane!”

“Dick, we all know this is a long time coming,” Tim sighed wearily. “Can we, can we just not make a big deal of this? I worked very hard not to make this a big deal. I even have our cover story for the media, ummm, here,” Tim said, fumbling through his papers for a series of notecards. 

“Yeah, the stress of running WE became too much so I had a nervous breakdown or something. We decided I needed to get out of Gotham for a bit and, at some point in the future, we can announce that I officially left the family to focus on my parent’s company.” Tim made a face like he did when he was younger and bit into something he didn’t like as he tucked the cards away. “It’s still a work in progress.”

“Tim, you don’t need a cover story because you’re not leaving,” Dick growled, slamming his hands on the desk. “God, why are you like this? Why do you always have to go to extremes? Just-” Dick let his head drop and he took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Tim. For what I did to you, for not noticing the problem until it was too late. I had, I thought I could count on you to come to me when you needed it. Please, I can see now that I’ve been a pretty rotten big brother but please, don’t make me lose another sibling.”

Tim’s eyes flitted over to Jason who just looked annoyed to have been mentioned, even in passing. Bruce did notice he had thrown a lazy arm around Damian’s shoulders who was burrowed into his side, watching nervously. What a happy, healthy family they were.

“Dick,” Tim scolded but his eyes were soft. “Don’t. This isn’t about you, about any of you. This is about me and putting myself first for the first time in my life so can you be an adult about this for once in your life?” He rubbed at his eyes, turning away from them. “We had a good run, I treasure those memories and skills learned but I can’t stay or it will kill me. Gotham will be fine, I’ve barely been out on the streets the past few months. You don’t need me and I refuse to stay where I am not wanted.” 

“You once told me that Batman needs a Robin,” Bruce mumbled softly. “That’s still true. Please come home, Tim.”

“You have a Robin,” Tim said with a soft, pitying smile before he turned to look at Damian. “A damn good one who’s doing the legacy proud. You also have Nightwing, Hood, Black Bat and everyone associated with Batman Inc.” His steel blue eyes turned back to him, pleading. “Bruce, please, be my hero one last time and let me go. I need to move on with my life and I refuse to be the sad, neighbor kid staying where he doesn’t belong.”

Dick sniffled loudly beside him, shaking and barely holding himself together. Jason wrapped him in his other arm and pulled his brother close. He leaned in and whispered something to Dick that Bruce couldn’t hear. His four boys, but the division between them was as clear as the mahogany desk separating Tim from the others.

“B,” Tim smirked almost fondly. “I’ve been forging your signature for years, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Bruce still didn’t move. “It’s not like I’m dying or anything, you’ll see me around. For now, I’m still working with the JLA, the Titans,” he shrugged. “I just won’t be a Bat or a Wayne, simple as that.”

“Is this really what you want? To stop being a member of this family?” Bruce asked, picking up the pen. 

“Bruce, what are you doing?” Dick demanded, reaching for Bruce but Jason held firm.

“Shut up, Dick, like the kid said, this ain’t about you,” Jason warned.

“To be honest, B, I never really felt a part of it. It was partially you, partially me and partially shitty circumstance,” Tim said with closed eyes. “I’d rather have no family than the illusion of one.”

“I love you, Tim,” Bruce said even as he quickly signed through the documents that permanently dissolved their legal relationship. “If you leave with nothing, leave with the knowledge that you are loved.”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Tim frowned, looking upset for the first time since they’d walked into the office. As soon as Bruce was done, Tim snatched the documents back like he was afraid they’d be stolen. “Great, glad we cleared that up. I’ll give this to Lucius this afternoon to put through, I already have someone in mind for my replacement. I’ll send the info to you later today. Now, I have an 11 o’ clock I need to prepare for.” 

And just like that, with a few strokes of a pen, Bruce had lost another son. 

There was no blood, no body, no gravestone to weep over. This was not a swift, clean death, this was a puckered wound that would fester and burn every time he saw this young man he’d once called his own outside of his protection. 

“You got balls of steel, Repl- Tim, you’ll destroy whatever poor sap is meeting with ya,” Jason said, reaching out the arm he’d been holding Damian with for a shake. Tim snorted and returned it. “We got off on the wrong foot, sorry about trying to kill you and shit. If you ever need a morally gray, handsome mercenary, you have my number.”

“Noted,” Tim grinned.

“Damian,” Tim said gently as Damian buried his face deeper into Jason’s coat. “I know this won’t help but I want to say it anyway, this isn’t your fault and I’m not mad at you. You did some bad things to me, as I did to you but you are forgiven.” He reached under his desk and pulled out a box. 

“I officially and gracefully am giving you Robin,” he lovingly patted the box before handing it over. “My last of the original costumes, you won’t fit into it probably but it’s symbolic. It’s what you deserve, I don’t ever want you to feel like a pretender in a role you’ve earned. I really hope you join the Titans in a few years, I want to get to know you outside of forced family interactions.”

“I would like that,” Damian said quietly, stepping out of Jason’s presence to grab the box before clutching it to his chest.

“Dick,” Tim said, still smiling at Damian. “Don’t talk to me for a while. Get yourself together, get used to this new normal, then you can ask Babs for my updated number. I know you did your best but you really hurt me. This space will be good for us both.” He looked at his watch.

“Alright, this was fun but it’s time to go. I’ll be in contact about the details and press releases,” Tim said clinically. Jason dragged Dick out of the room while Damian trailed behind, clutching his box tightly. Bruce gave one last glance to the boy who’d saved his life, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Take care of yourself, Tim,” he said quietly.

“You too Bruce, you too,” Tim responded. “Don’t hurt them by making the same mistakes you made with me.” he said with a hitch in his voice. “Goodbye.” Bruce closed the door and walked as stiffly as he had leaving Jason’s funeral. But Jason had come back, Damian too, so Bruce had to have faith that his wayward bird would find his way home too. 

He had to tell himself that or else he’d collapse entirely and, this time, Tim Drake wouldn’t be there to pick him back up. 

[captains-simp]

hey! so i love wanda and i was wondering if you could write one kind of enemies to lovers or something like that where reader and wanda don't get along well, jealous scene or maybe a very suggestive fight. very angst but happy fluffy ending please

Enemies to lovers owns my whole gay heart and I CANNOT write it without there being sexual tension so xksksjsks smut alert

@g-cordelia hope it's okay to combine your request with this too so there's a healthy dose of angst and fluff with it

"Please don't go."

"Don't you fucking lie to me."

Warnings: choking, fingering, spanking, strap on sex, mentions of oral and hints at mild injury

6k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Your actions jeopardised the whole mission." Steve said sternly before raising his voice when he saw he received no reaction from you or the redhead. "Whatever is going on between you has to stop!"

"You say that like it's ever been any different." Natasha added.

The pair that usually felt like the protective big brother and sister of the team where acing the role of disappointed parents. Admittedly that did make you feel bad, but Wanda showed no signs of giving an apology and you would be damned if you did first.

Natasha and Steve waited for any kind of response from either of you and got nothing. You and Wanda continued to glare at each other from opposite sides of the table, your stubnorness stopping either of you from looking at the two standing at the head of the table.

"Just write up your reports." Steve sighed, giving into the tension of the room before anyone else. If it had been just you, Wanda and Natasha there was no telling how long you'd be in there.

You both got up from the table at the same time, still refusing to break eye contact.

"Y/n stay behind a minute." Oh so they're switching it up to disappointed teachers now. Your attention fell to Steve in a look of confusion although that didn't mean you missed the smirk that played on the corner of Wanda's lips. You cursed her like a sailor in your head and hoped she heard but her back was to you and she was strolling out the room.

"I thought you guys were getting better." Steve sighed as he leant against the table.

"We were when we didn't have to talk to each other." You said honestly. There had been a few weeks prior where you and Wanda had had no missions together and therefore had no reason to talk or train with one another.

"You can't resort to avoiding each other as a way to solve your problems. All that does is make things escalate even more when you're actually together which will inevitably happen. Because believe it or not you two are on the same side and have to act like it." Natasha said sternly. You stared down at the table and thought about how how her words were. But it wasn't like you had that warning before.

When the pair infront of you knew you weren't going to say anything in response Steve filled the silence once again. "You're both suspended from missions until you can learn to work together." He decided.

"What?!" You cried as you snapped your head towards them and stood up. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly." Natasha said. You looked frantically between the two in disbelief.

"Alright." You said finally and clenched your jaw. You turned around and left the room without objection from the two Avengers, heading straight towards Wanda's room.

You never really knew why you and Wanda never got on. Maybe it was because she reminded you so much of the popular girls in high school you always envied while wanting them in your bed...no, it definetly couldn't be that. You just didn't know what.

It didn't take long to get there when you were walking like you were out for blood, that wouldn't be an unexpected result of what you planned. You banged on her door several times in a closed fist so it didn't take her long to answer.

She looked concerned when she opened the door and as soon as she realised it was you that same smirk from the meeting room fell back into place.

"Did they ground you?" She asked as she leant against the doorframe.

"Suspended." You spat. A shit eating grin started to appear but you wiped that off her face instantly. "Both of us."

"What the fuck? I didn't-"

"Yes you fucking did and now I'm paying for it too. You wanna know the best part? We can't go back in the field until we can work together nicely." You said bitterly.

"Why don't they just keep us on separate missions?"

"You can go ask them that later. Right now we're training." You said simply and you grabbed her forearm and pulled her out of her room down the corridor.

"We just got back." Wanda argued but followed you anyway after slapping your hand off her.

"Not prepared to put the work in, witchy?" You mocked, not looking at her as you marched through the compound.

"Don't call me that?" Wanda warned as she kept your pace.

"What are you gonna do? Read my mind?" You continued to taunt as you arrived in the gym and made your way to the mats.

Wanda put her red jacket on the floor and stepped away to take up her position as she eyed you. "I could snap all your bones into pieces so small they could be mistaken for ash." Wanda said stoicly.

"I don't think that's gonna get you another mission." You replied calmly, knowing that while there was a truth to Wanda's words she would never give you more than a split lip or bloody nose in the worst training sessions.

"Don't be a smartass y/n, it doesn't suit you." Your jaw clenched at her words.

Without warning, the entirety of your right arm lit up in flames and was aimed at Wanda in an instant.

You sent a wave of fire her way that she swiftly engulfed in her powers and sent back towards you. She looked less than impressed from your warningless attack.

"That was tacky." She said.

"I know, seemed fitting for you." You grinned but stopped when the red mist surrounded your body and lifted you into the air before a larger wave of fire was sent hurtling down to the redhead. The wall of fire blocked her view of you and subsequently dropped you to the ground as she dealt with the flames.

As soon as you landed and the fire parted you sent another blast Wanda's way only for her to do the exact same thing. You both ducked at the same time, your powers hitting opposite walls and leaving marks Tony would be on your asses about when he found out.

Wanda was clearly thinking the same thing. "We can't use our powers in an enclosed space, especially not yours." She said, her accent thickly woven into her voice.

"Okay then, let's see if Natasha's lessons have paid off." You said as you raised your fists and got into your defensive stance. Wanda mirrored you the way she had been taught and narrowed her eyes.

"They definelty have." She insisted as her eyes flickered over your form to try and identify your weak points already in a very obvious way.

"Just try to keep up." You mocked and swiftly moved to swipe her legs out from under her but she was surprisingly prepared. She jumped up to avoid your attack and kicked her leg out mid air and landed it on the center of your chest. You stumbled back in shock while Wanda looked very proud of herself. The last time you saw Wanda train it was clear she wasn't familiar with close range hand to hand combat. You hadn't expected her to improve so significantly in such a short amount of time.

You gritted your teeth and went for her stomach this time which she easily avoided but wasn't expecting another attack to follow so quickly. She blocked the continuous blows from you until you saw your moments and kicked one of her legs out from under her. Your mistake was thinking you succeeded the moment she was down because she spun around and kicked both of your legs out. You caught yourself partly as Wanda stood up so you were on kneeling.

Wanda's smirk was quick to take place when she saw your position, not missing the opportunity. "You look good when you're on your knees." She quipped.

Your eyes widened at her boldness and a heat rose up your neck that you knew wasn't your powers. You rolled back on the balls of your feet and swiftly stood up to look anywhere but the smug redhead infront of you.

"No snarky remark for that?" She challenged and you charged at her again. Anger feuled your attacks making them miscordinated and all round bad.

"Shut the fuck up, Maximoff." You huffed and made her grin even more at the clear signs that she was getting to you.

One of your punches was pushed to the side and Wanda took the chance to show you just how much she had learnt from Nat. You weren't entirely sure how she even did it it was so quick. Your arm was outstretched behind your back painfully due to Wanda's unrelenting grip on it and made it that much easier to push one of your legs down onto the floor. She held you like that for longer than necessary, soaking up the view of you struggling in her grasp.

"Get off." You snapped and winced when she pulled your arm back more.

"What's the magic word?" She teased.

"Now." You demanded. She tutted and pulled harder. "Maximoff!" You ordered through the pain. She leaned down beside you as her voice dropped to a low whisper.

"Beg." It was one word but you couldn't deny the effect it had on you. It was as though her light breath on your ear shot throughout your body and settled in a place you really didn't want it to.

You were about to object and tell her to stop being a bitch but her grip tightened and she pulled to a point where you thought your arm might just snap off under any more pressure.

"Please." You cried through gritted teeth. She instantly let go all too quickly and you collapsed onto the mat on your front. You heard her chuckle menacingly but cut herself off when Nat appeared in the doorway.

"We told you to write up your reports, not train." Natasha scolded as she watched you massage your shoulder and glare at Wanda.

"Sorry, just got a bit carried away." Wanda smiled, her innocent and sweet act that she put up for everyone except you returning. "Y/n's had enough now anyway." She smirked to herself.

"Fucking psycho." You muttered loud enough for her to hear but not Nat. Her jaw visibly clenched from that making you revel in the small victory as you finally got up from the mat.

"Just get on with the reports." Nat sighed and turned to leave as Wanda called out.

"On it."

"Aww, you trying to be a good girl, Maximoff?" You mocked as the pain subsided and your need to overrule what had happened came through.

"I don't have the time to stress over that, not when I'm busy putting brats in their place." Wanda said as she advanced towards you with a look you had only ever seen aimed at those you were fighting against.

"What?" You whispered as you backed up and felt your back hit the wall. Wanda's hand came up suddenly and wrapped itself around your throat firmly and cut off your breathing. Your eyes widened as you grabbed at her hands but she didn't budge. She looked amused at your efforts as her head tilted slightly to the side.

"And you certainly need to learn your place." She took her hand away and left you gasping for air for a split second before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the gym.

You stumbled a little as you tried to keep up with Wanda's long strides you could usually match. Your whole body was already trembling in anticipation, more so by the tension filled silence between you both as you travelled through the compound and ended up outside the redhead's room.

She opened her door and shoved you into her room swiftly. You didn't have much chance to take in your surroundings because the Sokovian gripped the back of your neck and forced you to lay on your stomach on her bed.

She made quick work of your clothes, discarding them to some soon forgotten about corner.

You turned your head to the side and gripped the sheets as you felt Wanda's slim fingers trialing up the back of your thighs before she gripped them roughly and forced them apart and lifted your lower half up. Her fingers returned and glided along your drippikg folds, collecting your arousal as she reveled in the effect she had on you.

"What was it that made you this wet, slut? Was it being on your knees for me? Begging me? Or did you enjoy the pain? I bet you enjoyed me choking you too." She chuckled darkly and didn't wait for you to respond.

She slipped two fingers inside your soaking cunt without warning making you gasp out in pleasure. Her fingers curled inside you beautifully, brushing some kind of nerve ending every second they were buried inside you. She had you a moaning, quivering mess in no time.

"Wanda...fuck! Right there, oh God!" She snickered against your skin as she worked her fingers expertly. Even then she wanted to test you. Well it was more that she was setting you up for failure.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear another sound from that whiny mouth." She ordered and you couldn't help but shiver from her dominant nature.

Of course it didn't last long. Her fingers felt so damn perfect inside you and you couldn't help but moan at the unspeakable pleasure.

She brought her hand down fast and landed it on your ass with a harsh smack that echoed through the room. She did it to both of your asscheeks until they were bright red and you were trembling. The sadistic redhead didn't stop there, she continued to rain down smacks that edged you further to your edge with the pleasurable pain.

Soon, you were moaning into the air as you came around Wanda's slim fingers, desperatly clenching around them in an attempt to prolong the pleasure. Thankfully, she kept pumping her fingers inside you, not caring when the overstimulation kicked in. She even started scissoring her fingers inside you, stretching your walls in a way that has you whimper loudly.

"Gotta stretch you a little to get you ready for my piece, sweetheart." She said in a sinister tone. "There's no way you'd be able to take it otherwise, it's already going to reck you with its size." She husked into your ear and withdrew her fingers, spanking you again when you whined.

Wanda got off the bed and disappeared into her closet, shortly returning with a large strap secured around her waist and pointed at you. You whimpered at the sight of it, not sure you could handle its size.

The Sokovian kneeled behind you and gripped your hips with both her hands as she lined up the strap with your entrance.

"I'm going to fill you up so nicely, Princess. Gonna have your cumming in no time." She husked, her voice dripping with lust.

A scream was ripped from your throat when Wanda thrust the entirety of the strap into your pussy. She set about her harsh, abusing pace instantly and preened at the sound of the pleasure filled cries that left you.

She grabbed a fistful of your hair and slammed your head down into the pillows on your side do she could still hear all of your desperate moans. The rough action earned the redhead a cry of her name.

Her pace was unrelenting, everytime she thrust back into you she somehow managed to hit deeper, pounding the toy against the most sensitive and pleasurable part of your cunt.

"Mommy!" You moaned loudly, not realising your slip up until the words left your lips. Your eyes widened and you feared Wanda's response, but what you got was a smack from the redhead that stung your ass in the best way. Her fucked you with increasing vigor too, wanting you title to spill from your lips again. And it did. Over and over, each time going straight to Wanda's pussy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You whimpered as you gripped onto the sheets tighter to prepare yourself for your release. But Wanda pulled the strap out the the very tip and held it there as she leant over to whisper in your ear.

"Beg me." She ordered and you whimpered again. It wasn't like you hadn't already submitted to the red head you hated but begging would be something that would loom over you for a while.

Your thoughts clashed with the overwhelming need from your pussy as it desleratly tried to clamp down on the tip that didn't provide nearly enough pleasure.

"Please, Wanda." You whispered.

"Please who?" She asked sweetly, clearly testing you making you groan.

"Please, mommy just let me cum." You whined and Wanda smacked your ass hard. She edged the dildo in further ever so slowly and stopped again.

"Mommy, please! I need to cum." You tried again, desperation seeping into your voice. Wanda hummed.

"I can see that." She mused as she rubbed small circles on your throbbing and soaked clit. "I just don't see why I should, brat." She punctuated the name with a harsh slap to your ass again and you caught onto what she was hinting at.

"Please, I'll...I'll be so good for you, mommy."

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yes! Please mommy I'll be so so good for you. Just please please let me c-" You were abruptly cut off by your own whorish moan as Wanda snapped her hips forwards and filled you up entirely.

One of her hands tangled itself in your hair and forced your head down into the pillows, not stopping your incoherent babbles filling the room along with the sound of your pussy being fucked by Wanda and her thighs slapping against yours.

The Sokovian tugged on your hair again so your head was off the pillow.

"I'm gonna cum!" You cried out into the air.

"That's it, baby. Soak my fucking cock." And with that demand you came harder than you ever had around Wanda's strap and moaned continuously as the redhead prolonged your pleasure by continuing to pound into you.

But it soon became too much for your sensitive pussy. You squirmed away from Wanda but she placed one hand on the middle of your back to keep you flat against the bed.

"Too much." You managed to say, however the redhead didn't seem to care.

"I'm nowhere near done with you, Princess."

*

Laying panting and gripping onto Wanda's bedsheets like a lifeline wasn't exactly what you expected to be doing on a Thursday night. You were drenched in sweat and although Wanda had pulled out the toy minutes prior, you were sure you could still feel it filling you up, the faint throbbing a forewarning of what was to come.

It took you a while to gather the strength to get up. With anyone else you probably would have just stayed the night in their bed, but you weren't sure you could do that with Wanda. Although she wouldn't kick you out, you didn't like the thought of sleeping beside the redhead. It seemed far too...soft? Whatever it was, you were sure Wanda would agree.

You searched for your clothes while she took a most likely deliberately long shower, images of her naked figure covered in water invading your mind.

Once you cursed them away they were just replaced with flashes of what you had been doing for all those hours, remembering how she pulled on your hair as she praised you when you went down on her. Of course you did that while on your knees.

What happened between you and Wanda wasn't a one time thing. In fact it became increasingly common until you were in each other's beds almost every night. You would have been fuck buddies if you had considered each other a friend.

It worked. You and Wanda were able to work out your pent up frustration towards each other in a way that didn't hurt one another....well, if that didn't include the scratches along Wanda's back and the constant aching between your legs.

You didn't even make snide comments about each other in meetings or during training. You were able to keep everything in the bedroom.

The success of what you two had going forced you to ignore the noteable change in feelings you had towards Wanda. You saw her differently but couldn't quite tell how. Sometimes it was as though the unplaceable emotion you had towards her from from start spiked and other times you were purely confused.

It was always most prominent after she made you crash over the edge of bliss or when she came undone beneath you. Those moments when your bodies went limp and you were caught up in each other's embrace because you didn't have the energy to move. Hearing her exhausted breathing match her rising and falling chest and faint heartbeat if you had your head on her chest. Those tender moments were the ones that caught you off guard.

You refused to make a big deal out of it though. You refused to investigate your feelings or even acknowledge them. What you had with Wanda was the most efficient thing you could do. You didn't want to muck it up but you knew it couldn't go on forever. Another labelless feeling emerged at that thought.

Natasha was the only one who knew what you were doing. Neither of you told her, the spy was able to figure it all out on her own quickly and confronted you both about it once, only saying to be careful. That was the only time she addressed it verbally but you could always feel her watching you both carefully when you trained.

You thought it was going great. You and Wanda had finally been cleared for a mission that you would both be on, the team certainly needed the man power. That was until Nat told you otherwise.

"What do you mean I'm not going?!" You exclaimed across the room. You had seen Nat in the meeting room looking up something on her tablet and had gone in to enquire something about the mission that was long forgotten.

"I've thought about it and you and Wanda still aren't deemed the most reliable when put together for a mission, with this one being as important as it is we can't afford to make mistakes." Natasha sighed.

"So why don't you take Wanda off the mission? I have more experience."

"Her powers are perfectly fitted to this mission, we need her."

"And not me." You knew you came across as petty, but you had been dying to go back into the field.

"Y/n." Nat tried but you scoffed and glared at the screens with those assigned to the mission. Your eyes found Wanda's picture first and your jaw clenched at the sight of her ridiculously attractive face.

"What did she say to you?" You demanded as something clicked in your brain.

"She didn't say anything, this is my judgement." Natasha began but you didn't buy it.

"We both know if it was you you would have told me as soon as you decided it. You had no issue with me and Wanda being on this mission before. Hell, you cleared us both for the field." Nat glanced down at her tablet guiltily as she searched her brain for another hopeless lie.

"This is unbelievable." You scoffed and turned sharply on your heels to storm out of the room, ignoring your name being called by Nat.

You soon found Wanda in the kitchen making herself a coffee as she hummed softly. You willed your brain to ignore the warmth you got from seeing the redhead in her own, peaceful world.

"Do you have a problem with me?" You demanded, snapping her out of her trance. She visibly figited when she saw you approach her and lean on the edge of the kitchen island on you hands with an expectant look.

"No?" She said, seeming unsure.

"Don't you fucking lie to me." She seemed startled by your increasing aggression.

"What are you talking about?" She asked as she stirred her drink.

"Don't play dumb with me, Maximoff. You got me off the mission!" Wanda stopped her movements as she froze, clearly caught off guard by your discovery. Given how Nat had acted you guessed you weren't meant to find out it was Wanda who said something.

"It's for the best." She finally said but avoided your eye.

"It is not your place to decide what's best for me, you don't get to do that." You argued.

"There should only be a few people on the mission." She tried.

"I know that, I've seen the intel. But we already discussed that those people should be powered. Why am I being taken off?" You demanded again.

"It's dangerous." She muttered as she stared down at her drink.

"It's my fucking job. You think I don't know that."

"Of course you do, but there's a bigger risk than the usual missions we've been on. A bigger risk of you getting hurt." She muttered the last bit, like she wasn't entirely sure she wanted you to hear her. Granted, Wanda showing concern for your safety was new.

"Any one of us could get hurt." You said, lowering your voice marginally.

"But it's you I'm worried about." She insisted. It was your turn to become uncomfortable, shifting slightly under her gaze that held something new.

"I can take care of myself." You said as you crossed your arms, feeling a sudden defensive need to protect yourself.

"I know... but I care about you." You exhaled slowly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable at the tone of her voice. "If something happened to you..." She continued, "I don't know what I would do." Her voice was barely above a whisper, the softness laced in it undeniable. It sparked something in you. Something you didn't want to accept.

"Good luck on your mission, Maximoff." You said through gritted teeth and went to leave but Wanda was behind you instantly and took ahold of your hand to pull you back.

"Wait, I wasn't done-"

"Well I am." You snapped and yanked your hand out of her grip.

"What..?" She said slowly.

"If you don't want to work with me then we won't, no need to keep fucking anymore." You huffed and went to walk away.

"That wasn't what I-"

"Stop!" It wasn't a cry of anger. It was pure desperation. Your pleading look took Wanda by surprise and pained her to see. "Just stop before you say something you can't unsay." You said shakily. Your unspoken message was received. You didn't want to hear about Wanda's feelings towards you. She just didn't know it was because you were afraid that it would uncover what you had been feeling all along. You couldn't handle it. You were scared.

Wanda nodded, defeated, and let you go. You were filled with grief as you walked away, your footsteps feeling heavier than usual. You wanted to look back, to go back to her. But you couldn't.

*

You distracted yourself with a particularly ruthless training session the day of Wanda's mission. Carol showed you no mercy in sparring, weight lifting and boxing - even encouraging power use every now and then. But your mind still wandered to the redhead the way it usually did.

When you finally collapsed on the mat in defeat Carol chuckled and tossed you your waterbottle before encouraging an ice bath and strolling out of the gym for her evening flight.

You stayed on the floor for a while after you finished your water, only stopping staring up at the ceiling when Nat's outline blocked the lights. You sat up and looked at her hopefully, seeing that she was back from monitoring the mission and didn't seem distraught or upset.

"How did it go?" You asked as she sat down across from you.

"It was a success." She said but she didn't seem all that happy.

"And everyone's okay?" You asked cautiously. Nat gave a half shug and sighed lightly.

"There was ice - a lot if it and it was so cold. Dangerously cold." Nat started. You tried not to clench your jaw or show any signs of annoyance, knowing there was no need to point out that mission was fitted for you and your powers that would have guaranteed everyone's safety.

"Wanda got a little cut up, it was impossible to fight on that ground." You eyed the door and bit your lip, refraining from giving in to the urge to go see her.

"She doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but she needs seeing to the cut." Nat said as she placed a first aid kit down infront of you. She was back already? And why did you have the kit?

"She won't see anyone either." Nat said before you could verbally question her. It took a moment for you to understand what she was saying.

"I don't think she wants to see me, Nat." You said as you pushed it back her way only for her to toss it into your lap.

"Goddmit, y/n. Can you two stop dancing around each other and actually talk?!" She exclaimed.

"We tried that-"

"Talking, y/n, not shouting or arguing. Talking." She said firmly and got up before you could protest further.

You pondered over what Natasha said for a while. You knew she had a good point, that talking was exactly what you should have done from the start, but it was just another thing that frightened you.

"Your job is facing your fears." You muttered aloud to yourself.

You finally got up from the ground, first aid kit in hand, and trudged along the compound towards Wanda's room. You tried to figure out what you could say on the way. But it all came out a jumbled mess that made no sense. Multiple times you stopped in the hallways and considered turning back before convincing yourself to keep going.

You knocked softly on Wanda's door and was surprised that it opened for you. The redhead in question was sat on her bed with a pillow in her lap, fiddling with her hands the way she always did when she was anxious or deep in thought. That evening it was both.

She glanced up at you as you closed the door but turned back to her pillow quickly when you gave her a short smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.

Regardless, you cautiously walked towards her bed and sat down next to her with the small box between you. You brought one of your legs up under you so you could face Wanda and eyed the cut above her eyebrow in concern. She still didn't say anything, neither did you.

You opened up the small box and got out a pack of wound closure strips and carefully unwrapped one. Wanda didn't object to you gently holding the area around her cut as you placed the strip on and lightly smoothed over the edges until you were sure it would stay on.

"I let my emotions cloud my judgement." She mumbled as you prepped another strip.

"It happens to all of us." You said.

"But I didn't listen to you. I should have." You sighed and stopped unwrapping the strip to look up at the redhead and watch her closely. She looked back at you with a guilty and pained expression that was full of regret.

"Yeah." You nodded slowly as you went back to the medical tape and raised your hands to put it on but the Sokovian held your wrist to stop you. "What's done is done, so just let me put these on and we're good." You said but she still didn't let go.

"Just like that?" She questioned.

"The mission was a success. If I'd had been there you wouldn't have gotten hurt, that's all."

"You were really mad though." She continued and you put your hands down to rest them, not failing to notice that Wanda was still holding your wrist but with a much lighter grip.

"It's hard to stay mad at you." You admitted.

"You've always been mad at me."

"Well it wasn't exactly like you were the friendliest person to me." You pointed out. "I was never mad at you, Wanda. I just hated that... that you made me feel something I've never trusted, so I didn't trust you. It was never your fault, I was unfair." You admitted as you stared down at the tape the whole time, afraid to meet the redhead's eyes.

"What did you feel?" Wanda asked, her voice void of emotion making it more difficult for you to say. You gulped as you continued to stare at the tape, willing yourself to give Wanda the answer she needed. The answer she deserved.

"Love." You voice shook. "I loved... love you." You were shaking more as you finally looked up at Wanda. Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted like there was a million thoughts trying to be heard but without the ability to.

She didn't say anything for a while. A long while. She stared at you in disbelief then at her pillow as though it would give her all the answers.

Tears rushed to your eyes that you tried to blink away as your head swam with curses to yourself for admitting your feelings. You had opened up and been vulnerable to Wanda, and the result was the exact reason you had sworn to never do it again.

Once you were sure she wasn't going to say anything to you, you took it as your cue to leave. To leave so Wanda could prepare her rejection speech for you. However, as soon as you put your hand to the door she spoke out.

"Please don't go."

You turned around slowly and met her light brown eyes you had always found impossible not to get lost in when you had your fingers or tongue inside her. You timidly went back to the bed and paused before sitting down next to her, facing the wall instead of her this time.

"I thought it was one sided." She started and you felt yourself begin to shake with nerves again. "I thought you didn't love me back." You looked to Wanda quickly and searched her features for any signs of a lie, any signs that she was setting you up to push you down but she was gazing back at you longingly with tears glistening in her eyes.

"When you confronted me about the mission, I was going to say it then, you knew that." You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, remembering the fear you felt in that moment.

"I wasn't ready, I thought I wouldn't ever be but," You took a deep breath "I want to try, for you." You took ahold of Wanda's hand to reiterate your point. "I care about you too Wanda, so much. More than I could ever express or even handle and I didn't know what to do about it. I mean we've tried a fair few things now," You both laughed a little, "but it I don't think any of them are going to work as well as accepting it and...and I don't know." You looked to her for guidance because fuck did you need it. You needed Wanda to guide you down whatever path you chose to take, as long as she was there with you.

"Maybe we could start with something small." She suggested with a small smile that made her eyes shine.

"Like a coffee date?" You tried.

"Exactly like that." She confirmed, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Then I'll pick you up around 2." You said cheesily making Wanda laugh. "But first, I have to finish tending to this cut." You declared as you turned around to face her entirely and crossed your legs under you, pausing for a moment to give Wanda a short and sweet kiss.