#she would have done everything in her power (which is quite possibly A Lot) to die for them instead

[mymarifae]

so does anyone else want to talk about the big ass clue about march 7th's past dropped in the clockie movie saga side quest of all places or

because like i'm sorry girl What Did You Just Fucking Say

[rederiswrites]

Okay so I'm giving @corseque 's super-important audio of all Solas' comments about the Blight a second (or fifteenth, whatever) listen and taking notes as I go.

Solas doesn't think for a second that once the archdemons are gone the Blight will be gone. Which really makes sense because it's the Blight that makes them an archdemon, not the other way around. Supposedly, they're blighted when the darkspawn reach and corrupt them. But of course that begs the question of why it's only darkspawn (and uh, honorary darkspawn like the Wardens) that hear their call. Anyway, the way he says it, it sounds more like the archdemons are a limiting factor than a driving factor.

Varric: "What's so confusing about endless darkspawn?" Solas: "A great deal!" So yeah, whatever the plan was, he didn't foresee darkspawn as a consequence. So did he not foresee them existing at all, or not foresee them being free to cause problems? Worth noting that it's really clear both in general and in Descent that dwarves as a whole were a huge blind spot for him.

He is really really surprised that the Western Approach ever recovered from the Blight. Pretty clear he didn't think that was possible.

He thinks that everything the Wardens have done up til now is a deeply misguided effort that's served (mostly accidentally) as a delaying tactic. Gotta say, with the information we have at hand, this point pairs about as well with the last as a nice dry red with spicy pickles. If the Wardens shouldn't have done what they've done, but he didn't think recovery from the Blight was possible, I'd love to hear what he thought the alternative was.

Same dialogue as above, but when Solas talks about stopping the Blight and when Blackwall and Varric talk about it, one gets the distinct impression that they're talking at cross purposes, because Varric and Blackwall are talking about the experience of Blights, as in, periodic events, whereas I think Solas is talking about THE Blight, that is, its true nature, which is yet untouched.

He thinks Erimond is dumb as shit, which is fair and valid. "That's madness! For all we know, killing the Old Gods could make things even worse!" he says. Well, he knows a lot more than "we" know, but it's entirely possible that he doesn't for sure know this. Increasingly clear that he thinks it, though.

I'd forgotten just how pissed off he was about the Grey Warden plan to kill the Old Gods before they were corrupted. It really doesn't give "hey you're killing my relatives" energy. It really gives "wow that would fuck us all" vibes.

Of course, with a side of my remembering that Solas' besetting flaw was always thinking people should know better even though they don't have access to the knowledge he has. That flaw I WILL grant. He displays it repeatedly--you could even say the writers went out of their way to make the point.

"The Blight is the real problem"

"The fools who first unleashed the Blight on this world thought they were unlocking ultimate power." Anyway yeah those are the absolute core of everything here. The Blight is the real problem and the Blight was deliberate. Deliberately made or deliberately freed.

Even during the events of Inquisition, Solas obviously sees Corypheus as secondary to the Blight as a danger.

Cassandra suggests that the archdemons were really just dragons--"Pets to those who no longer exist", by which she probably means the Old Gods, not specifically the gods of Elvhen, just because of her cultural background. Solas finds this suggestion amusingly wrong--a quiet snort, and "I would not go so far as that."

Last notes: he doesn't sound like he thinks the Blight can be stopped, and he's adamant that it can't be controlled. Which is presumably why he broke the world in an attempt to contain it, assuming I'm right that that was the underlying reason for the Veil. That it didn't quite work the way he'd hoped is also pretty evident, though I wanna be clear that I assume he was working from a place of desperation, and that not knowing every possible outcome of an action is not a condemnation of having taken it.

[joonsmagicshop]

Professor Rapline

Summary: Mr. Kim is your English Literature and Poetry teacher and while he is known for being a strict teacher is he is also hot. So incredibly hot! So when he gives you an outlet for all your exam stress how can you possibly say no? Little do you realize it wont be just him you are getting pleasure from

Paring: Namjoon/Reader focused! Eventually Yoongi/Reader Hobi/Reader

Word Count: 15K

Rating: M/18+ because smut

Tags: A/U, Professor/student relationship,slow burn, flirting, pet names, Joon calls her princess Yoongi calls her Kitten, Hobi calls her baby, dirty talk, spanking, hand jobs, blow jobs, cum licking, eating out, sex, so much sex, basically she gets fucked three times in one night, choking, face fucking, power dynamics, dry humping.

Authors Note: I was possessed by a horny demon when I wrote this. This idea has been stuck in my head for months and once I started writing I didn't want to stop. This is a work of fiction and I do not recommend fucking your professors.

No one warned you about Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jung Hoseok.

But then again, you doubted you would have believed them if they did.

It was the last semester before your time at University would be over for good, and honestly, you couldn’t wait. You were over the long nights studying, the assignments that had to be handed in on time or you would lose marks, and the group projects that were just as pointless as they were frustrating.

You had done everything you wanted to do, you went to the parties, kissed random strangers in bathrooms, and even hooked up with a few. You had a boyfriend for three months and decided it was better for you to be single and now you were ready to graduate and move on with your life.

Which found you sitting in the Academic Adviser’s office nervously shifting in your chair as you watched her go through your file. The office was painted a soft blue color and the heater was pumping out hot air on blast making the whole space dry and stuffy. As you wait, you unwound your scarf from your neck and placed it on your lap.

Her eyes met yours and she smiled softly at you.

“Well Miss Y/L/N it seems that you have a bright shining future that’s for sure. You have a wonderful file here and honors too, you must be proud.” She said beaming at you as you crossed your legs nervously and unzipped your coat.

You understood that it was the dead of winter outside but did it have to be so incredibly stuffy in here?

“Thank you. So I’m on track to graduate? Everything looks good?” You ask leaning forward in the chair.

“Well here’s the thing…” She trails off as she pushes her glasses back on her nose and scans the computer again.

Your heart drops.

“As I said bright and shining future for sure but you are missing just one credit. If you are unable to fit another class in this semester you would be unable to graduate.” She says with a frown as you see her eyes scan the computer to double check as your heart drops down to your boots.

There is no way.

You spent four years busting your butt, there was no way you were going to stay any longer than you had to.

“I can fit another class in! Which class do I need?” You ask in a panic as she clicks some more on the mouse and you watch her concentrate on the screen.

“Well, the good news is you just need one more elective class. The bad news is most of them are filled up…well. Except…” Her voice trails off again as you squirm in your seat, panic taking over.

“Whatever it is I’ll take it!” You respond eagerly.

“Miss Y/L/N it’s English literature and poetry with Mr. Kim.” She says in a serious tone as her eyes finally leave her monitor to look at you.

“Okay fine sign me up!” You say as you lean so far forward you are almost pushed right against her desk.

“Miss Y/L/N I understand you want to graduate on time but you must know. His class is notoriously known for being… quite difficult. I never want to slander a teacher but Mr Kim is very serious about his job and a lot of students come to me trying to drop his class.” She says staring at you with a serious look on her face.

You had no idea who Mr Kim was. The campus was so big you hardly knew where half the rooms were let alone half the teachers. But you had to graduate on time. You were not about to spend more money to have to go back to school for one elective course. There was just no way.

“That’s fine sign me up.” You say boldly as she frowns at you and types away on her computer. Well-manicured nails fly along the keyboard.

“Only if you are sure, you can always change your mind.” She says as you nod and she clicks something, you assume it’s to enroll you into his class.

"Okay, you are set. The class is on Wednesday nights at six pm. His classroom is 0994B which is in the basement.” She says as she pushes her glasses off her face to stare at you again.

“If you have any trouble at all please let me know.” She says as you nod and gather your things. You wrap your scarf around your neck and wave goodbye, leaving the stuffy office to head to the textbook shop to grab your book, having no idea what you just agreed to.

.........................

Two days later you found yourself searching the basement for the classroom you are looking for. While the University is beautiful with a rich history the basement is spooky and dark, especially in January when the nights are long and you rarely get sunlight.

Just as you approach the door you see a paper taped to it and you frown.

Basement heater is broken. Mr Kim’s class moved to 0294.

You let out a frustrated sigh and begin to ascend the stairs, hiking your messenger bag up on your shoulder as you climb.

The second floor is much nicer than the basement and you luckily find the new classroom with ease. You slip inside and take stock of the students. The lecture hall is large and set up like a theater with a podium at the front and the seats ascending upwards. You see most of the front rows are already taken with giggling girls.

You made your way to the back and plopped your things down in a seat slightly to the right of where the empty podium sat. You pulled out your phone to make sure it was on silent and as you took out your textbook and pens you couldn’t help but overhear the girls in front of you talking.

“That’s not a reason to take this class! I’m not carrying you though because you only signed up for this class because Mr. Kim is hot.” A blonde girl teased her friend as her friend shushed her and giggled.

“Come on that’s why people try and survive his class. He’s such a hardass but so nice to look at it makes up for it!” Her friend teased as both girls dissolved into giggles.

You wondered what the hell they were talking about. Mr Kim was hot? You had many English teachers throughout your years and they all were mostly the same type of person. Lanky, nerdy, either a tortured poet or a Shakespeare lover. You never pictured your teacher to be attractive at all and now thoughts of what he could look like clouded your mind.

But it didn’t take long for you to find out.

The second the door opened the entire class fell silent.

No one warned you about Mr. Kim.

But you’re sure if they did you wouldn’t believe them

Hell, you didn’t believe the girls who were sitting in front of you until you saw it with your own two eyes.

He was tall and handsome with blonde hair slicked back from his forehead and eyes narrowed as he looked through the crowd of students. When his eyes met yours you shivered but he didn’t linger as he made long strides towards the podium and set his brown briefcase down on the floor.

He took out a small laptop and set it up as you watched him in fascination. He was no doubt handsome and even though he had not spoken a word he had already commanded the class to be quiet.

It was quite impressive.

He took his time fiddling with the laptop as the class stayed deathly quiet. Once he got everything hooked up and the projector running he finally addressed the class.

“Hi I’m Mr Kim and I’ll be teaching you English lit and poetry.”

And then he smiled

When he smiled two beautiful dimples appeared on his cheeks and you knew you were undeniably screwed.

Not only was his class notorious for being difficult, but it also didn’t help he was drop-dead gorgeous.

Well, shit.

Your small crush on Mr. Kim lasted well in February. As the ground started to thaw and the days were very slowly becoming longer you spent most of your time buried in a book trying not to drown in your coursework.

While Mr. Kim was in fact the hottest man you had ever seen, the rumors were true and he was also a hardass about his subject.

By the second week, twelve people had dropped his class. He didn’t seem to mind or even acknowledge it, he just kept teaching.

By the time the first month was over twenty people had left and the class had once again been moved. This time to a small lecture hall on the same floor that was a lot more cozy and less intimidating than the original one.

You hardly noticed how many people dropped the class come March as midterm exams were approaching and you were too worried about your grades and future to worry about anyone else.

Your crush on Mr. Kim even took a backseat as you spent most of your time in the library, wistfully staring out the window at the sunny days wishing you were outside instead of in a stuffy old library going over poems written by people who had passed away ages ago.

In the last week of March, you got a break. Mr. Kim was teaching about Robert Frost and going over the poem “Nothing Gold Can Stay.” You were lucky enough to study that poem in high school so you sneakily took out your psychology homework and began to work on that, nodding and making occasional eye contact with Mr. Kim so he thought you were paying attention.

Lucky for you, you had finished most of the essay during Mr. Kim’s lecture. Unlucky for you class had ended five minutes ago and everyone had left the lecture hall, leaving you sitting there alone typing while Mr. Kim packed up his stuff.

You were so absorbed in your work you didn’t notice his hard gaze on you, how his eyebrow quirked when he saw how concentrated you were, and how he let out a low sigh as he made his way up the steps to approach you.

You did however notice when he was about two feet away from you and you gasped and slammed your laptop lid shut in alarm

“Miss Y/N.” He said smoothly as he took a seat in the aisle opposite yours and smiled softly at you.

You felt a blush appear on your cheeks as you hastily tried to come up with an excuse.

“Please Y/N tell me what you were working on. I know you aren’t typing that much about Robert Frost.” He teases as he stretches out his legs and you can see his slacks stretch under the pressure of his thick thighs.

“I-Mr. Kim, I’m so sorry. I…well I studied Robert Frost in high school and I have this big psychology essay that is due and I just wanted to get a head start on it.” You admit shyly as you shove your laptop in your messenger bag and gather your things.

You stand up to leave but a strong hand stops you.

“My class and Psych? I’m impressed.” He says as his hand leaves your arm but you can still feel the heat from where he touched you, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Well, I… yeah I need Phych and I needed one more class to graduate so I picked yours.” You admitted as you stood there in front of him.

“And the Academic advisor let you do this? Take both?” He asks as he remains seated and gestures to the chair you vacated. Knowing he wasn’t going to kick you out of his class you graciously sat down, placing your bag on the floor.

“I…well I kind of didn’t give her a choice. I don’t want to come back for a year to take one course.” You admit.

He smiles at you, dimples present and you feel pleasure bloom in your chest.

“That’s very admirable of you. I’m sure she warned you about me and my class and you still decided to go for it? I like that.” He says.

You nod not sure of what to say.

“What do you want to be when you get out of here? What are your goals?” He asks you breaking the silence.

“I want to be a high school teacher. Educate the future generations.” You say shyly as his smile grows bigger.

You smile back at him.

“Ah. Very admirable. A girl after my own heart.” He teases and you feel yourself blush at his praise.

You both lapse into silence and you feel your heart hammer against your chest. He is staring at you softly and you slowly reach out to play with the hem of your skirt, hands desperate to do something so you don’t reach out for him.

“I’m sorry for keeping you late Sir. I should let you go.” You say as you gather your things and almost miss the way his Adam’s apple bobs when you call him sir.

You don’t waste any time and make your way down the stairs, leaving Mr. Kim still in the seat watching you go.

“Y/N?” He calls back for you as you stop and turn to face him. He looks so nonchalant sitting there, and so incredibly handsome you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something stupid.

“I'll speak to Mr. Min about your caseload and see if he can ease off a bit. He can be kind of a hardass.” He says as he stands up and stretches and you can’t help but sneak a peak when his cream-colored sweater rises to show a flash of taunt skin.

Fuck.

“Oh, Mr. Kim you don’t have to it’s okay.” You say flushed at his generosity as he makes his way towards you to gather his things.

“It’s okay I have to talk to him about something anyway. I won’t mention your name I’ll just tell him to lay off a bit.” He assures you as you nod.

You wish him a good night and make your way out of the classroom. Your hands grip the straps of your messenger bag tightly as you hurry across campus to your car. By the time you get into your car, you are sure the flush on your face is gone, but the butterflies in your stomach are fluttering around like crazy.

April.

The dreaded month of April.

April was prep for exam season and you were once again buried in your books. Spring was finally here and when it wasn’t raining buckets you spent your time outside, spreading your books on the picnic tables as you got to work catching up on things you had to finish before exams.

After your essay for Mr. Min, his class did seem to get easier. You never asked Mr. Kim about it, instead, you pretended to be oblivious about the whole thing though you did have a feeling a conversation was had because you noticed Mr. Min staring at you more than usual as he taught.

Every free hour was spent studying or revising or writing essays so you hardly had time to think of that day with Mr. Kim. How gorgeous he looked sitting across from you, and how his cream-colored sweater fit his body perfectly and showed off his sculpted chest and broad shoulders.

You only let these thoughts run ramped late at night, when the stress of the day caught up to you and you wondered what would happen if he did lean in and kiss you. How soft his full lips would feel against yours. Would he be soft with you or would he be in control and command you just as he did that first day when he walked into the room?

Often times you would let your hand wander into your underwear and you would circle your clit. Imagining it was his strong deft fingers instead of your own. You would imagine him pinning you against the wooden podium and pulling down your pants to finger you.

How his huge body would cage you in and how he would whisper dirty things in your ear, his voice low and gruff as he would prep you to take his cock.

Most times you could cum around your fingers thinking of him. Wondering what it would be like to have someone as tall and handsome as Mr. Kim fucking you.

The weather was getting even warmer and your stress was at an all-time high. At this point, you lived off coffee and would often take it to class with you as you worked.

Mr. Kim was going over the structure of your final exam and as much as you tried you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open. You had slept a total of three hours last night and his late-night classes were getting to you.

You fought your body as much as you could. Trying to take notes, trying to focus but before you knew it your eyes were shut and you were snoozing softly on your textbook, face smushed cutely into the cover.

Unbeknown to you Mr. Kim had been keeping a close eye on you since your private conversation and he caught you sleeping the moment your head rested on the textbook. He bit back a smile as he continued to address the class.

You had slept for half an hour. You were awoken by a strong hand lightly shaking your arm and you looked up to see Mr. Kim staring down at you, his lips curved in a smile as you blushed with embarrassment.

“Oh my god Mr. Kim I’m so sorry I just- I don’t even know what to say this is so embarrassing and I missed most of what you said about the exam and oh my god I can’t believe I fell asleep in class what’s wrong with me!” You babbled on as you frantically shoved all your stuff in your bag and avoided eye contact with him.

You were sure he was beyond mad. A student falling asleep in his class is super disrespectful.

“Y/N deep breaths please, I don’t want you hyperventilating in my class.” He teases you with a smile as you freeze and turn to look at him.

“I am so sorry!” You cry out as you bury your face in your hands and stare at the floor.

“It’s okay really.” He says as his hands circle your wrist to pry your hands away from your red face.

His big hands engulf your wrists and you let out a shaky breath as your mind goes haywire at his soft touches.

He is staring at you with concern written all over his face and you look around, once again the classroom is empty except for the two of you.

“It’s not Mr. Min this time I swear! It’s just exams and revisions and I want to keep my honor roll so I have to work hard I haven’t been sleeping much because of all the work and I’m so so sorry!” You blurt out eyes shifting from his sharp eyes to his plush lips that are still drawn up into a smile.

He catches you staring and cocks an eyebrow

You were really in trouble now.

“Y/N you have big dreams and it’s amazing how much you are taking on. Honestly when you told me your plan and the courses you are taking I was and am very impressed. You should be proud of yourself.” He says lowly. You glance down to see his hands are still holding your wrists steady and you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat pounding against your skin.

“Thank you.” You whisper out hearing your voice echo in the empty room.

“Being an almost University graduate can be stressful and challenging.” He starts as his thumb caresses your wrist and up into your palm.

You can’t help it, you bite your lip in anticipation as his fingers work your skin soothing you but also making your heart beat faster.

“It really is. I just want to graduate and be done.” You admit shyly as his sharp eyes are locked on yours.

“I totally understand that. I remember those days. I lived off coffee and ramen.” He admits standing up from his crouch to sit on the chair right next to yours, his thick thighs bumping against your knee as he lets go of your hands to get situated.

“Mind you I wasn’t trusted in the kitchen so my roommates did most of the ramen cooking.” He teases as you giggle.

He runs a hand through his hair and pushes it back from his forehead. The tension in the room is thick and you can’t stop staring at his lips, your mind flashing to two nights ago when you came around your fingers moaning his name.

He clasps his fingers together on the table and your eyes dart down to them. He grins when he catches you staring and you blush further.

“I guess what I want to say is it’s important to study hard but also important to take breaks when you need to. Stress can do major damage to the body.” Mr. Kim advises as you nod wordlessly at him.

“What do you do for fun? That’s not schoolwork? Do you have an outlet of some kind?” He asks softly.

You were sure it was wildly inappropriate to tell him that you orgasm to relieve stress so instead you tell him a little about yourself and your life.

How your parents live a ten-minute drive from the University so you never felt the need to stay on campus. How you like to take your dog on walks when the weather is nice and how he wears a little raincoat on days when it drizzles. You tell him about your friends and how you try to get together for movie nights but you all are so swamped with school you haven’t had time.

He listens intently and soon enough you realize you are blabbing so you shut up much to his dismay.

“You sound like you have good hobbies though maybe a balancing problem. You need to work hard but also play hard too. This is University after all that’s why people party so much to get rid of all the stress from teachers like me.” He says with a laugh as you laugh along beside him.

You explain how you did go to the parties in your first year but grew out of them and he nods along in understanding.

“I get that. And with being so close to the end I get you want to rush through and graduate to get it over with but you have to find outlets to relieve all the stress. Once you get into the workforce you’ll still have this stress and even though I’ll let it slide you fell asleep in my class the workforce won’t be so gracious.”

You nod along at his words as he adjusts himself in the seat, his knee bumping yours and sending your heart racing once more.

“I am truly sorry Mr. Kim I have never fallen asleep in a class before in my life.” You admit to him, brushing your hair behind your ears.

“Ah, so I must have been boring you.” He jests which has you protesting right away.

“No not at all! I would never think that of you!”

He smiles at your words and you push your knee into his as silent reassurance.

His eyes dart down to your lips and back up again and you smirk at him.

“So what you need to do is find an outlet for all that stress and built-up frustration. Some people choose to drink, but I think you might be over that, some people choose to lift weights or run. But there are…other options you know.” He says letting his voice dip dangerously low and you stare at him in shock when he winks at you.

Is he suggesting what you think he is suggesting?

Because if he is?

How the hell do you even say no to that?!

“I-uh. I’m not sure what you mean….sir.” You say putting on your best sultry voice and watching as a slow smirk appears on his face.

So he does mean what you think he means.

Well….wow.

“You know a lot of people have….experiences in University. Great time to get to know yourself and what you want…and like.” He hints as you push your knee boldly into his and his smirk grows wider.

The tension in the room is palatable at this point and you can almost feel the want radiating off both of your bodies.

You don’t want this flirting to end so you tease him some more, seeing how far you can take it.

“Oh, I already went through all that. Too bad University boys half the time don’t know what they are doing. Such a shame I have to do it myself.”

His eyes widen and his tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. You wink back at him and feel him once again push his knee into yours with more force.

Your body is on fire when you lean in closer to him, letting his cologne cloud your senses.

“What a pity.” He almost growls out as you look up at him fluttering your eyelashes.

Boldly he unclasps his hands and places one on your knee, the same knee that is currently pressing into his under the table.

You let out a small gasp when his hand sneaks into the inside of your knee and his thumb caresses your other leg.

You wish with all your heart that today of all days you had chosen to wear a skirt instead of jeans but your skin is on fire as he traced fine lines into your jeans, eyes not leaving yours.

Neither of you speak as his hand climbs higher. The rational part of your brain is screaming for you to stop this because he is your professor, your teacher, your senior, but the horny part of your brain is begging his fingers to climb higher where he would for sure find you soaked for him.

Before you can do or say anything he squeezes your thigh and you let out a squeal of shock when his hand leaves you, before you know it he is standing up and making his way down the stairs back to the podium seemingly unbothered and unaffected by the whole thing.

You realize this is him dismissing you so you grab your things and make your way down the stairs. Trying to hide how aroused you are and how badly your pussy is aching for his touch.

When you make it to the podium, messenger bag slung over your shoulder he looks up at you and reaches out to hand you a little white card.

You see it's blank on one side but when you turn it over you see an address scrawled on the back.

His address?

“Pity University boys don’t know how to please a woman. As I said you need an outlet for all that stress. Friday night come to this address. Seven pm.”

Your eyes widen in shock

He was inviting you to his house?

“I- I don’t know what to say.” You admit still holding the card in your outstretched hand and as you stare him down.

“Show up or don’t your choice ultimately.” He says closing his laptop and packing up his things for the night.

“What if someone finds out? Or sees this card?” You ask him with a tilt of your head.

He chuckles softly.

“No one ever has before. I’m not too worried. But if you are… don’t show up. Shred the card.” He offers as he shoves stuff in his briefcase not bothering to look at you.

“You’ve done this before?” You ask hating how your voice sounds so scandalized. As if you weren’t egging him on the entire time.

“I think you know the answer to that Miss Y/N.” He says with a cock of his eyebrow as he places his briefcase down and finally locks eyes with you.

“I see the way you look at me. They all have the same look. The want. The desire. I’m just here to get a paycheck and maybe have some fun. Though I will forwarn you if you do show up you will be punished for sleeping in my class.” He adds with a smirk as you gasp.

“Balls in your court Y/N. And if you do tell anyone well you still have your final exam to write.” He says boldly.

Your mouth drops in shock.

“You're going to fail me if I don’t show up? Are you insane?” You cry out as he smiles down at you.

“If you don’t say a word regardless of whether you show up or not I won’t have to fail you. If it does get out, whether you show up or not…well.” He shrugs as an answer and you gasp at him.

You shouldn’t find this hot.

You really shouldn’t.

“Fine.” You bite back and his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Have a good night Miss Y/N,” he says gesturing at the door.

Friday you tell your parents you are going to a study group. You have no idea how long this will take or what will even happen so you tell them to not wait up.

The drive is about twenty minutes from your house and you are shaking in anticipation the entire way.

Of course, you didn’t tell a single soul. You knew Mr. Kim was true to his word and you didn’t want to put your grades in the balance so you kept the note hidden in your wallet and double triple checked it before you drove over.

The sun was just starting to set casting everything in a beautiful glow as your hands tapped on the steering wheel and you turned down a side street.

The weather was warm today so you opted for a pale blue sundress with small yellow flowers on it. You dug out your best bra and underwear and tied your hair up to keep it from your face.

Your tote was on the seat next to you filled with textbooks you would never open as you finally made your way to the address and the big house.

It was a two-story white house with white shutters and a long driveway with three separate cars parked. You decided to park on the road and you pulled out the card to double-check again as the door opened and you saw Mr. Kim standing there staring at you.

You never told him you were coming but you guess he was ready anyway because when you grabbed your things and closed the car door he was smiling at you.

He looked so different than how he did in the classroom but still drop-dead gorgeous. His blonde hair was pushed back from his face in his signature style, he was wearing a black tight shirt and grey tight sweatpants that had your mouth watering.

He looked so good.

It really wasn’t fair.

“Hi.” You said softly as you made your way to the door.

He smiled at you and quickly ushed your inside as you took in your surroundings.

The living room was a good size with a big couch and a TV. Of to the side, there was a galley kitchen and you smiled when you remembered he said he was a terrible cook. You saw a staircase off the kitchen and a small bathroom off the living room.

“Mr. Kim thank you for this.” You start but he shushes you with a finger pressed to your lips.

“Please. I’m Namjoon. We don’t need the professional titles here.” He says as you kick off your shoes timidly and he puts a hand on the small of your back to bring you over to the couch.

“Namjoon.” You say his name as he smiles down at you when you both sit.

“Exactly. Or you can call me sir if you're into that.” He teases with a smirk as you blush.

“I think you are the one who would like that…sir… I saw the way you reacted when I called you that.” You tease back suddenly feeling bold as you drop your bag on the hardwood floor.

“You little tease. And getting all dolled up just for me, You shouldn’t have.” He mutters as his fingers come to play with the small straps holding the dress up.

“Yeah, you like it?” You smirk, standing up and swishing your dress around, giving him a full view of your legs.

His hands grab your hips and he pulls you down on his lap as you straddle him staring at him with lust-blown eyes.

“You absolute tease.” He grumbles as his hands come to play with the straps once more, taking his time to pull them slowly down your shoulders and letting them hang.

“What do you want?” He asks staring up at you not daring to make another move until you answer his question.

“You.”

Without warning he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss. You put your hands on his shoulders for support as you kiss him back.

His lips are just as soft as you imagined and you take your time with him, letting him control the kiss as he pushes his body into yours.

You feel his half-hard cock in his sweatpants and when you grind down on it a small moan leaves his mouth.

His hands run up and down your thighs and finally settle on your waist as he kisses you harder pushing his lips into yours and nibbling on your lower lip.

You moan at the feeling and his tongue darts in your mouth to rub against your tongue.

You rake your hands through his soft hair and grab the hair at the nape of his neck as you push your body into his, letting your breasts press into his chest and making more moans fall from his mouth.

This was hands down the hottest makeout session you have had and you start to feel yourself grind against him as pleasure courses through your body.

He pulls away and grins lazily up at you as you continue to rock your core against his now fully hard cock.

“Bend over my lap I promised I’d punish you, princess.” He says as you stare down at him and continue your grind on his cock, the sensation too good to stop.

“What if I don’t want to be punished?” You tease him as he rolls his eyes at you.

His hands grab your shoulders as he pushes you down on the couch and in a flash he has your dress hiked up so your ass is on display.

You moan out when you feel his strong hands massage your bare skin.

“Lacy underwear for me? You shouldn’t have,” He jokes as his hand comes down to smack your ass.

The sting causes you to close your eyes and you moan against the cushion when he continues to spank you, ranging from hard spanks to soft little taps.

Your pussy is throbbing at this point and you are almost humping the couch with how aroused you are. Namjoon isn’t letting up though and after ten spanks he is kneading the sensitive skin and praising you.

“Mr. Kim please!”You cry out.

“What did you call me?” He asks, delivering a sharp smack to your left and right buttcheek causing you to push your face into the cushion harder and moan out.

“Namjoon! Namjoon please!” You cry as he lifts you up and once again positions you on his lap. You can feel the hard ridge of his cock and you grind down on it some more.

“What do you want princess?” He asks massaging the skin he spanked raw as you bury your face in his shoulder, turned on beyond belief.

“You. I want you.” You beg out as he smirks and you lift your head.

You don’t waste time grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. You gasp when you are met with toned tan skin, broad shoulders, and a muscular chest.

“God Namjoon your body.” You whimper as you lean down to pepper kisses along his collarbones and chest, arching your back so you can reach more skin and have your core press harder into his cock.

“I could say the same about you.” He says lowly as he pulls the straps of your dress down to free your bra to his hungry eyes.

He quickly gets your bra off and his large hands come to cup your breasts. You throw your head back and moan as his thumbs flick over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure to your already-soaked core.

“God princess I can feel how needy you are, you're soaking my pants.” He says as you look down to see a stain forming on his crotch.

“That’s so fucking hot.” He admits as his hands continue to work your nipples and you continue to grind against his cock chasing your high.

“Princess you're so fucking wet for me I bet I could just slide in huh?” He says as his hands leave your breasts to run down the expanse of your stomach to the hem of your underwear

“Please. Joon. Fuck. Please.” You beg as his hand slips inside and your eyes roll back when he gathers your wetness and begins to circle your clit agonizingly slow.

“Use your words, princess.” He teases as he continues his slow torture on your clit. You throw your head back and grip his strong shoulders for support as you grind against his skilled hand.

“Want you to fuck me. Please, sir. Please.” You whine as he removes his hand and you watch as he licks his fingers clean, sharp eyes never leaving yours.

Your pussy pulses with want and a broken moan leaves your mouth.

“Gotta prep you, princess. Not to brag but I’ve been told I have a big cock. Don’t wanna break my girl before exams.” He teases as he taps your butt so you lift yourself and kneel on the couch giving him full access to your pussy as he pulls your underwear down and completely off leaving you in just your dress with nothing underneath.

He smiles up at you as his finger dips back into your underwear and he circles your clit again. You moan out and grip his shoulders when he inserts a finger inside of you.

You were right when you told him University boys didn’t know what they were doing

You had never experienced something like his before

And it never felt so good being right.

He took his time opening you up on his fingers. Adding another one and scissoring them, making beautiful whines and moans fall from your lips. You already felt close to the edge and when he curled his fingers upwards and thrusted deeper you let go.

Your body arched forward and you cried out his name as you orgasmed around his fingers. He chuckled darkly against your skin as you rode out your high. Feeling yourself pulse around his digits as he worked you through it.

Once you came down you straddled his lap once again and pressed your face into his chest letting your breathing even out as he stroked your hair and praised you for being so good for him.

“Please Namjoon.” You whined out as you pushed yourself up so you were face to face with him.

“Tell me, Princess. Tell your Professor what you want.” He says as you scoot back and stroke his cock through his sweatpants.

“Want you to fuck me Joon.” You beg as he wraps one hand around you to lift you and the other hand tugs at his sweats pulling them down so his hard cock is flush against his stomach.

He was right, his cock was big.

Thick and veiny, the tip was bright red and leaking precum down the shaft. You carefully wrapped a hand around his cock and began to slowly jerk him off, wanting to give him the pleasure he gave you.

“Princess you are too good at that.” He whines out when you twist your wrist at the top making his cock leak more precum.

“Princess you gotta stop I gotta get a condom.” He says as you stop your movements and giggle when he reaches for his wallet you didn’t even notice was on the coffee table and retrieves a condom from it.

Your pussy throbs in anticipation and right as he is about to roll the condom on the door bursts open.

Standing there is Mr. Min your psych teacher and you scream and bury your face in Namjoons shoulder as he looks unbothered by the whole thing.

“Jesus Joon on the couch?! Really? Thought we said bedrooms only!” Another voice says and you look up in time to see another male standing in the doorway. He is beautiful with slightly wavy brown hair and wide eyes, his features are soft giving him a look of unearthly beauty.

“Sorry, it just kind of happened,” Namjoon admits as you are still frozen in shock at the fact your other teacher is here watching the whole thing and seeming so chill about it.

“Mr. Min I’m so- I- shit I don’t know what to say.” You stammer as Mr. Min’s eyes lock on Namjoon’s in a harsh stare.

“You didn’t even tell her Joon? Jesus, do we have to do everything?” He asks as he comes around the couch and you push yourself closer to Namjoon in worry of what will happen.

“Listen Kitten. Come to my room when he’s done fucking you yeah? Up the stairs last door on the right.” He says pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your back as he walks away from the couch and smacks Namjoon on the back of his head.

“No more fucking on the couch or you’re going to pay the cleaning bill.” He says as he makes his way up the stairs.

Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you are frozen in absolute shock

What the fuck is going on?

“Why do you get her first?” The other man complains as Namjoon pushes his head into your shoulder and whines in embarrassment.

“Because I’m her teacher too. She has no idea who the fuck you are!” Mr. Min calls from the top of the stairs in a teasing tone.

The other man comes around the couch and grabs your hand to shake it with a big smile on his face.

“I’m Mr. Jung but you can call me Hobi. We’ve never met but I’m the performing arts teacher. Once these two buffoons are done with you come to my room. I’m the last door on the left.” He sends you a sultry wink and before you know it he is heading up the stairs as well and you are frozen in shock.

“What the fuck.” You whisper as Namjoon is groaning into your shoulder and you look down to see his cock softening between your bodies.

“I… Shit, they are right I should have explained things before we started.” He admits as he pushes his head back to stare at you.

“I’m so confused.” You admit still in shock.

“Yoongi, Um I guess he’s Mr. Min to you, Hobi, and I were roommates at University. After we graduated we couldn’t afford housing alone so we decided to rent a big house and live together. We all work at the same place so it just made sense. Anyway, we found that there are…students who take an interest in us beyond academics and figured why the hell not? We are young and if we want them and they want us and it’s consensual…” His voice trailed off and you nodded.

“Anyway, sometimes we share our students and sometimes we keep them to ourselves. When I talked to Yoongi about how he was stressing out my students he admitted he had an eye for you, but so did I. So we agreed to share as long as I got you first. Hobi is…well he’s Hobi he’s not picky and usually is down for anything. You don’t have to do anything with them if you don’t want to. You can let me fuck you and walk out this door. It won’t affect your grade with Yoongi at all. I should have told you sooner, as soon as you got here but you in that dress…good god I had to get my hands on you.” He says running his hands up and down your hips as you whine and grind against him.

“Again you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You can walk out the door right now, write your exams, and never see any of us again. Your choice princess.” He says.

You shake your head at him and slide off his lap.

You see his face fall.

And quickly turn to shock when you lower yourself down to the floor and engulf his soft cock in your warm mouth.

Namjoon grunts and grabs your hair that has started to fall out of your ponytail to keep it away from your face as you suck him down, loving the feeling of his cock starting to harder in your mouth.

You suck and bob your head as your tongue dances over the sensitive flesh.

“Fuck! Is that a yes then?” Namjoon pants above you as his hands tighten in your hair and force you to look up at him.

“Have sex with the three hottest teachers on campus? I’d be stupid to say no to that.” You tease as you jerk off his quickly hardening cock and get off your knees to get back on his lap and kiss him.

His hands tangle in your hair as he frees it from your ponytail and you kiss him wildly. Your tongues and teeth clash as you feel his now fully hard cock press into your abdomen.

“Fuck me Joon. Please.” You cry out as his hand comes down to spank your ass once more.

“Are you just saying that ‘cause you wanna rush to Yoongi?” He teases as he finally rolls the condom on his cock.

“Nah you made me wait a whole semester. If I wait any longer I’m gonna explode.” You admit as he positions his cock at your entrance and teases your folds with the tip.

“Well, I won’t make my princess wait any longer then.” He says as he inches his cock inside of you.

The sting is immediate and you bury your face in his shoulder as he pushes himself in inch by inch until he is fully sheathed inside of you, his large hands coming up to hold your hips steady and give you time to adjust to his length.

“God I made you cum and your still tight.” He grits out as it’s taking everything in him not to immediately thrust inside of you.

You take your time and slowly move your hips back and forth. His hands grip your sides harshly and he hisses every time you move.

You know he is being a gentleman and waiting for you to adjust and it makes you smile.

“Joon. Move.” You plea as he begins to thrust into you shallowly letting your body get used to the feeling of being stuffed with cock.

You let out a moan when he starts to pick up speed. Your hands rest on his shoulders and you use your legs to fuck yourself on his cock as he picks up the pace and is fucking you rather harshly.

The noise is obscene and you wonder if the other men can hear how Namjoon is fucking you. It makes your pussy clench and Namjoon lets out a hiss as he tilts his hips and pushes his cock deeper inside of you to hit your g spot.

You are moaning above him, hands holding onto his for dear life and feeling the coil of pleasure get tighter and tighter.

He must understand because one hand leaves your hip to come and circle your clit and a high whine leaves your mouth as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.

Namjoon once again picks up the pace and fucks into you harder and you capture his lips in a kiss and before you can warn him you are flying off the edge and cumming hard around his cock.

You whine against his mouth as you ride out your second high of the night and Namjoon fucks you through it. His hand leaves your clit and he continues to pound into you bringing you to the brink of overstimulation before he groans into your neck and cums hard into the condom.

You cry out when you feel his cock twitch deep inside of you and his thrusts become erratic as he works himself through his own high.

You slump your body against his and let your breathing settle as he does the same.

His hands still have a vice-like grip on your hips and when he finally releases them you look down to see they are slightly red.

You grin.

“That was wow.” He says pushing his sweaty hair back from his face as you grin at him feeling euphoric.

“I agree.” You say with a smile as you climb off his lap and try to stand, only to have your legs shake and your body nearly tumbles into the couch.

Namjoon steadies you and takes the condom off his softening cock and ties it up throwing it in a garbage nearby.

You pull the straps of your dress up and search for your bra and underwear but Namjoon stops you.

“Don’t bother, save the others the trouble of taking it off again.” He says which has you gasping.

“Remember you always have a choice. You can walk out the door now or go to Yoongi.” He says as you lean against the couch and smooth everything down trying to at least look presentable.

“You know my answer Joon,” you say as you raise your eyebrows at him.

He stands up and pulls up his underwear and sweatpants. Without warning he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal in delight as he carries you up the stairs and to the last door on the right. He kicks it open with his foot and you find Yoongi hunched in a desk chair working on something on a laptop. His hair is messy under big headphones and he looks up with a slow smirk when Namjoon deposits you on his bed.

“Special delivery. No bra or underwear just a skimpy sundress. You’re welcome.” He teases as he winks at you and closes the door.

Now you are left alone with Yoongi having no idea what to expect.

“Did Namjoon fill you in?” He asks taking off his headphones and saving whatever he was working on.

“Yeah, he did.” You say suddenly breathless at the prospect of getting fucked…again.

“And did he take good care of you? Namjoon is the youngest of the three of us. Gotta make sure we trained him well.” Yoongi says as he rolls his chair over to sit at the foot of the bed, eyes roving over your disheveled appearance.

“Yes Sir.” You say watching Yoongi smirk at you as his hands trace small circles on your legs.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as his fingers take their time with your bare skin.

“Good. A little sore. Namjoon spanked me. But overall good.” You admit as your eyes are glued to his long fingers which are climbing slightly higher with each stroke.

“Why did he spank you kitten? Were you bad?” He mutters lowly as his hands come to your knees to part your legs.

You sit up for him and scoot your butt to the very edge of the bed and let your legs fall open. You hike your dress around your hips and give him a full view.

Yoongi’s eyes darken.

“I have this teacher called Mr. Min. He gave me so much homework I stayed up all night completing it and hardly slept. I fell asleep in Joon’s class so he had to punish me.” You tease as you watch Yoongi’s hands trail higher and higher on your skin.

His cheeks are flushed and his brown hair is falling into his eyes as he watches his hands caress your skin.

“Ah well if it were me I’d do the same thing. Naughty girls get punished.” He says giving your upper thighs a soft smack as you whine.

You start to pout but just as you stick your bottom lip out, he leans forward to kiss you.

You plant your hands on his jean-clad thighs as you lean forward to kiss him back. His lips are soft as he presses them to yours. You flutter your eyes closed and focus on the sensation of his good his lips feel against yours.

You feel your core throb with arousal and you push your lips harder into his, loving the way he grunts against you and tangles his hands in your hair.

You spend awhile just kissing and testing the waters and soon enough Yoongi pulls away and his eyes are dark, clouded with lust and you can see an obvious bulge in his jeans.

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask as you stand up and stare at him.

“Namjoon didn’t let you suck him off?” Yoongi asks as he stands up and takes your spot on the bed. He throws you a pillow to kneel on and you take your spot between his legs palming at his bulge eagerly.

“I mean he did but hardly. Think he was too excited to fuck me.” You admit as Yoongi lets out a quiet laugh and your hands come to pop the button of his jeans open and tug the zipper down. His eyes widen when you see his cock straining against his dark boxers.

“I don’t blame him,” Yoongi mumbles as he pushes his hair back from his face to look down at you kneeling on the floor between his legs.

A sight he wants to commit to memory.

You slowly pull his jeans down and he helps you kick them off. You take in the sight of him, already looking fucked out and you hardly touched him.

“What were you working on when Joon dropped me off?” You ask as you bring your hand up to palm at his erection.

“M-Music. I make music on the side.” He admits as you push your palm into his cock and soak in the moans that are falling from his lips.

“Hard ass Mr. Min makes music on the side? That’s cool.” You tease as his eyes snap open and he stares you down dangerously.

“What did you call me?” He asks in a low voice as you hook your hands into his boxers and he lifts his hips to assist you with pulling them off.

“A hardass? Come on you knew that already.” You tease letting your hands run up and down his hard shaft, smearing the pre-cum all over it as his eyes threaten to flutter closed again.

Before he can reply you lean forward and wrap your lips around his cockhead causing him to moan and lace his fingers tightly through your hair.

You take your time sucking him, loving the feeling of your tongue lapping up his precum and loving even more that you are making big bad intimidating Min Yoongi fall apart.

You slowly take him in deeper and smirk when he grips your hair harder and bucks his cock into your mouth.

You bring your hand up to work in tandem with your mouth and you hollow out your cheeks and continue to suck him.

He throws his head back and whines as you take him deeper. By the time you get his cock down and your nose is brushing against his neatly trimmed pubes, Yoongi has his hands laced through your hair and is grunting above you.

He tastes salty on your tongue and your eyes water when your gag reflex kicks in but you do everything you can to relax your throat and swallow around him.

Rough hands tug at your hair as he pries you off his cock and you look up at him with tearful eyes, as a string of spit is still connected from your mouth to his very red cockhead which is slowly leaking more precum.

“Kitten you are far too good at that.” He complements as you smile up at him and he leans forward to grab your arms to help you up.

You stand on shaky knees as Yoongi grabs you and pushes you down on the bed. You let out a squeal of delight as he flips you onto your back. He hikes up your sundress and lets it pool around your midsection as he eyes your still-soaked core.

“You’re still all puffy for me Kitten.” He comments as one finger comes to trace at your clit and you whine and buck your hips into his hand.

“Mmm Yoongi.” You moan letting your eyes close as he teases your clit with the tip of his finger, his eyebrows scrunched up in concentration and his tongue darts out to lick at the corner of his mouth.

“What do you want kitten"?” He asks plunging a finger inside of you making your body arch off the bed and your hands come to grip the sheets below.

“You. I want you Yoongi. Real bad.” You cry out as he adds another finger without warning and begins to take his time opening you up.

“You already got fucked by one man now you want another so soon. You're such a greedy kitten.” He purrs reaching up to kiss and suck at your neck.

You tangle your hands in his hair and let the sensation of his soft lips on your heated skin take over.

He takes his time plunging his fingers inside of you and stretching you out. You felt like you didn’t need stretching out after Namjoon’s cock but you weren’t about to say anything as Yoongi’s fingers felt like magic.

“Wanna come around my fingers?” He asks as his lips are still sucking at your neck and you are grinding your butt down to meet his thrusts, fucking yourself on his long fingers.

“Would rather cum on your cock.” You admit as his head snaps up and his eyes meet yours. His eyes are dark and lustful and when he pulls his fingers out he licks at them taking his time cleaning them and leaving you whining out on the bed.

“Kitten doesn’t know how to use her words.” Yoongi teases as he sees your frustration but still takes his sweet time.

You frown at him.

“Kitten did use her words you just chose to ignore them.” You fire back which causes Yoongi to pounce on you, resting his whole body weight on yours as you feel his cock press against your center.

“Did you just talk back to me?” He growls as he grabs the base of his cock and runs it through your folds.

“Sorry, Sir. Guess I’m just impatient. You like to take your sweet time.” You answer back not bothering to hide your attitude as Yoongi’s hand wraps around your throat.

Your eyes bulge when he squeezes it and you let out a choked moan when he stares you down with an intensity that has your core throbbing.

His hand tightens on your neck, pressing into your pulse which has it racing against his fingertips. You flutter your eyes closed but with his free hand, he lightly slaps your cheek.

“Look at me when I speak to you. Naughty Kitten comes into the lion’s den to get fucked by three different men. Now she thinks she can sass back to a man who holds her future in his hands. I could fail you right now if I want to. I could squeeze your throat until you passed out. I could throw you up against a wall and fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for a week. “

Your eyes roll in the back of your head at his words.

“Now are you going to behave or am I going to add to the spankings you already received? Hmm? Gonna drop that attitude yet or still think your hot shit around here.” He growls out as his fingers start to ease on your throat and you expand your lungs taking in as much air as you can.

“Sorry, Sir. I’ll behave.” You say softly as Yoongi smiles down at you and presses soft sweet kisses to your neck, soothing the area he just had his hand wrapped around.

He slowly gets off the bed and reaches over to the nightstand where he pulls out a foil packet. He opens it and rolls it down his hard cock, jerking himself off as he goes.

You watch him work his cock with nimble fingers and soon enough he is on top of you again positioning his cock at your entrance.

“Let me know if it’s too much.” He says softly as he slips his cockhead inside and begins to inch in slowly.

You can’t help but whine when he finally gets all the way in. His hips are flush against yours and you both breathe heavily at the sensation.

He stares down at you with hair falling into his eyes and slowly presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is slow and sweet and the complete opposite of how he choked you earlier. You tangle your hands into his hair and give your body time to adjust.

This time it doesn’t take your body long to adjust and you start to wiggle your hips to give him the signal to move.

“You good Kitten?” He asks pulling away to stare at you.

And what a sight you were.

Hair splayed out on his pillow, eyes blown wide, and cheeks dusted with a pretty blush.

"Please.” You beg as Yoongi begins to thrust inside of you shallowly, slowly picking up the pace as he goes.

His hands are on either side of your head holding himself up as he fucks into you. You tear your eyes away from his gorgeous face to see his biceps bulging and you moan out his name.

The sound of slapping skin, grunts, and moans fill the room and you shift down to meet Yoongi’s every thrust.

But something is missing. You want more.

“Yoongi please.” You cry out when he thrusts into you harder and his cock hits that spot inside of you that has your toes curling and your lips parting in an obscene moan.

“Again Kitten use your words. Did we teach you nothing? Fuck.” He cries out as he tilts his hips to get a better angle deep inside of you.

“Choke me. Please fuck. Yoongi.” You beg as your hands come up to claw at his back.

He stops his movements. Completely stills and you whine at the loss of friction.

“You…sure?” He asks staring down at you with eyes wide. Like he couldn’t believe you had just said that.

“Please.” You beg as Yoongi smirks and slips out of you.

You let out a frustrated noise as he positions himself at the foot of the bed and taps his bare lap, signaling you to come over and ride his cock.

“Can’t hold myself up and choke you kitten. You have to decide.”

You scramble to the end of the bed and sink down on his cock. He feels so much deeper in this position and when his hand comes up to your neck you let out a moan and feel your eyes flutter closed.

“Fuck your a vision like this with my cock stuffing your pussy and my hand around your throat.” He mutters as you use his cock and begin to ride him.

He has one hand on the bed holding himself up and the other is around your neck.

You are seeing stars, absolute stars. The pleasure from his hand around you slightly choking you and the feeling of his cock stuffing you full has you riding him harder, chasing the high you so desperately craved.

Yoongi pushes a little harder on the sides of your neck and you're a goner. You arch your back up and feel the pleasure that was building and building finally crescendo into an orgasm that punches the air out of your lungs, or maybe that was the fact Yoongi was still fucking up into you wildly and his hand was still wrapped around your throat.

“My pretty Kitten cumming with my cock stuffed inside her and my hand around her pretty neck, fuck you are so hot. What the fuck. What the actual fuck.” He blabbers as he chases his own high and is soon cumming inside of you. His hand leaves your throat to steady himself on the bed so you both don’t topple forward and hit the floor.

You let him ride out his high as you come down from yours. He buries his face in your shoulder and grunts low and dangerous as he finally stills his hips.

He slowly shifts you up and off his lap, plopping you on the bed and standing up so he can crack open a window.

The whole room reeks of cum and sex and you flop back down on his bed putting a hand on your chest to feel your heart beating rapidly.

Yoongi pulls up his boxers and fishes around in his drawers for some looser pants pulling them over his legs before he sits down beside you.

He shoots you a rare smile and you smile back at him.

“So I’m not actually going to fail your class am I?” You tease breaking the silence as he giggles and you smile at him.

“Nah that was a heat of the moment thing. You are top of my class I would have no way of failing you.” He admits and you sit up and stare at him.

“Wait really? I’m top of the class? I…wow. I didn’t expect that.” You say shyly as he messes up his hair and smirks at you.

“How? You actually show up. You hand in assignments. You work hard. There is no reason you shouldn’t be top of my class.” He says and you flush at his praises.

“Even if a teacher had to come to talk to me and tell me to lay off a little bit.” He says with a teasing tone.

“He told me he wouldn’t say specifically who!” You say with a laugh rolling your eyes to the ceiling.

“He didn’t say it was you specifically but I could tell you were working yourself to death and needed a break. Or a release.” He says wiggling his eyebrows as you smack his arm.

Before you can answer there is a knock at the door and you pull your dress down and smooth it out as Hobi appears.

“Ah just in time,” Yoongi says as he smiles up at his friend.

“I know I heard you fucking her.” He grumbles as he leans against the door frame and you take him in.

The other two you were familiar with, but Hobi was a stranger so you took your time.

Your eyes roved his lean dancer’s body and how he leaned up against the door frame and crossed his arms with ease. He looked intimidating except for the small smile on his face.

“Only if you want to Kitten. You can walk out of here now. Your choice.” Yoongi reminds you.

“I don’t want to pressure you but I’m so fucking hard right now,” Hobi admits with a bite of his lips which has you standing up on shaky legs.

In two long strides, he reaches you and holds you steady against his strong frame.

“What did you do to her? She can hardly stand.” He accuses as Yoongi smirks and grabs a sweater on the floor, throwing it over his head and making his way back over to his desk and opening his laptop.

“Have fun kitten.” He says as he winks at you and puts his headphones over his ears.

Hobi leads you out into the hall and you take a shaky breath staring up at his beautiful face.

“Only if you want to.” He says shyly and you nod.

“Words please.” He says crossing his arms and staring you down.

“Yes. I want to. Though I might be extra sore.” You say with a grimace as you feel how tired your legs are and how your ass still stings from Namjoon’s earlier spanks.

Hobi grabs your hands and leads you to his room across the hall. You enter and take in the bright walls and decor and the big bed in the middle.

You can’t help yourself as you flop down on his bed and curl up in a ball. You take in the smell of his bed sheets and you sigh as he comes to sit next to you.

“You don’t have to baby. Seriously I want this to be good for both of us.” He says massaging your back as you peek up to look at him.

“Sorry Hobi I want to. God, I want to. It’s just the last two were…intense.” You admit suddenly feeling shy when he rolls you onto your back and stares down at you.

“How about we take it slow? Let me massage you and we will see where it leads hmm?” He asks and before you can answer he rolls you onto your stomach and his long fingers begin to massage the back of your legs.

You close your eyes and rest your cheek on his bed as he gets to work. He takes his time applying pressure to your sore muscles, digging his thumbs in where he feels like you need a little more pressure being respectful the whole time, and not letting his hands trail too high up your body.

You let out a whine when he massages a particularly sore spot and you spread your legs for him wider, letting his hands dance over the skin of your inner thighs.

“God baby you’re so tight.” He mutters as his hands travel down your calves and back up again earning a broken moan from you.

“So dance teacher huh?” You ask as he continues to work your muscles this time his hand inches high on your hamstrings and you push your face into the mattress at the feeling.

“Yeah, I’ve always loved dance and music and I had some teachers change my life and the way I see dance so I decided I wanted to be just like them. I love what I do.” He says softly as his fingers dig into your flesh and you feel yourself start to relax.

“How come I’ve never seen you on campus?” You ask voice muffled by his sheets as his hands continue to work your right and left leg.

“The dance studio is the furthest away from your building. We are the complete opposite sides of campus. Can’t have us blaring our music and having fun while you are trying to study for a test.” He teases as he gives you a small smack on the ass causing you to jolt and let out a pained whine.

He lifts the skirt of your dress and stares down at the red marks Namjoon left behind. His skilled hands massage the tender flesh and you let out another satisfied moan.

“T-True. But might be nice you know, to see you guys perform, might take away some stress.” You admit as his hands still wander your butt cheeks.

“I thought that’s what we were doing here?” He teases as you crane your neck to look at him and he flashes you a toothy smile.

His hands come to your hips to flip you over to your back. You stare up at his beautiful face and lean yourself up on your elbows capturing his lips in a kiss.

His hands cradle your head and hold you steady as he kisses you back. You feel blissed out as just like the others he takes his time exploring your mouth and pushing his lips into yours.

The kisses are slow and sweet, with no urgency just two people taking their time to get to know each other.

You shift so you are kneeling on the bed and you run your fingers through his dark hair and he sighs happily against your mouth.

You let your hands explore his hair, moving down to his neck and exploring his body.

You grab the hem of his shirt and your lips part so you can pull it off of him.

You press soft kisses to his neck and collarbones and smile against his skin when he throws his head back and whines.

You take your time with his body, kissing every freckle or mole you find as he holds your hair back and allows you to explore.

You stop at the hem of his loose-fitting pants and you can already see a sizeable bulge which causes you to giggle.

"So eager.” You tease as you lean up to capture his lips again and palm at his hard cock. He whines in your mouth as you push your palm into him and make sure to grind against his cockhead.

“You have no idea what it was like. Having to sit in this room and hear Namjoon and Yoongi fuck you. Torture.” He admits as you continue to palm him through the material.

“Did you like hearing how good I was getting fucked?” You say to him as you dance your fingers along his cock which is straining against the material, when you give him a squeeze you realize he is not wearing anything underneath and you gasp.

“Had to take them off. I was so fucking hard my cock needed some room. Didn’t wanna jerk off in case I came. The noises you make. Fuck Y/N I know why Namjoon picked you.” Hobi admits as you pull his pants down and watch as his cock smacks up against his toned stomach.

You take your time circling the base of his cock with your hand and he buries his face in your shoulder and whines at your touch.

You feel yourself start to get wet but you want to take your time and focus on him, he needs this more right now.

“If I make you cum now would you be able to still fuck me?” You ask as you begin to jerk him off, applying just the right amount of pressure and smearing his precum down his aching shaft.

“I-fuck-” He says as you flick your wrist at the top and watch as he bites his lip burying his face into your shoulder harder.

“Words please.” You say with a smirk as he pulls away and stares you down.

“I can tell you have been with Joon and Yoongi. I know I’m too pent up to fuck you right now I probably wouldn’t last. So yes. Please. Make me cum and I’ll fuck you.” He says as you nod and begin to stroke him harder.

He leans up to pull you in for a searing kiss and you tighten your grip on his cock which has him moaning against your mouth.

His hands are tangled wildly in your hair and you continue to jerk his cock harder and faster until he can no longer kiss you and instead is just moaning and whining against your swollen lips.

When you run your thumb under the head of his cock his hips jerk, fucking himself into your fist.

He continues to snap his hips forward and back, using your hand as his own personal fuck toy and you let him, loving the way he throws his head back making his hair push back from his sweaty forehead and the way the veins in his neck strain against his skin.

“Gonna cum for me?” You growl as you watch his eyes flutter open and he nods.

“Cum all over my hand Hobi. Come on now. Be a good boy and cum.” You demand and he loses it.

His body convulses forward and he buries his head back into your shoulder as he cums. Ropes of hot cum coat your fist as you let him work himself through it. He is still fucking up into your tight fist and when he finally stops you release his cock and begin to lap at the cum he left behind.

“Fuckkkk.” He groans out as he watches you lick and suck the cum up, his taste exploding in your mouth as you take your time, keeping your eyes locked on his as you finish the job and completely clean yourself.

“How are you real? Holy fuck how are you real?” He whines out as you smirk at the way his jaw is dropped and his eyes are blown wide.

You smile at him as you drop down on his bed and lie on your back, your knees starting to get sore from all the kneeling you had to do.

Hobi smirks and crawls off the bed, his hands grab at your hips and he pulls you to the very edge of the bed and kneels on the floor. Your eyes widen when his hands come to your knees and he flips up the skirt of your dress and prys your legs open as he gets comfortable between them.

“Gonna eat you out.” He mutters as he places hot kisses on your thighs and you spread them open wider for him.

When his mouth finally gets to your core you are almost shaking on the mattress. He laps at your clit and begins to swirl his tongue around it making you see stars.

Your hands grip the sheets below as you bring your legs up to wrap around his back caging him in place.

He chuckles against your core and continues to suck and lick at your clit, you can hear the wetness of his tongue lapping at your wetness and it makes your pussy pulse.

His tongue runs up and down your slit and he buries his face into your core causing his strong nose to bump against your clit sending you arching off the bed and a broken moan falling from your lips

His hands hold onto your thighs keeping you steady as he licks and sucks, pressing harder and working faster as you feel your orgasm start to build in your lower stomach.

You are squirming on the sheets and his name is falling out of your mouth in a prayer as he works harder and sucks up everything you are giving him

“Ho-Hobi stop you gotta stop.” You cry out as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. Not wanting to fall off too soon.

“Baby your sopping wet for me.” He says as his head pops up between your legs and you see his lips shiny with your arousal, some is even leaking down his chin, and you swear it’s the hottest sight you have ever seen.

“Want you to fuck me Hobi.” You say as you sit up and watch him get up from the floor. His cock is once again rock hard against his stomach and he smiles at you.

He grabs a condom and rolls it onto his cock, pumping himself a few times as he leans down on the bed.

“How do you want me?” He asks as you sit up and close your legs giving him room to sit next to you.

“However you want. I just don’t think I can ride you. I think my legs will literally fall off.” You say with a laugh as Hobi eyes you mischievously.

“Did you ride both Joon and Yoongi?”

You nod.

“Don’t they know there are other positions to choose from? Fuck no wonder you are tired.” He says sitting on the bed beside you and stroking your knee in a comforting way.

“Well Joon I didn’t mind but with Yoongi we had to….for…reasons.” You say blushing at the memory of his hand wrapped around your neck.

“Reasons?” He asks with a cock of his eyebrow.

“He um..was choking me. Consensually of course!” You reply as you choose to stare at the floor instead of Hobi’s surprised face.

“Kinky.” He says with a soft giggle as you face him and smile shyly.

“Okay how about this lay against the headboard feet flat on the bed, I’ll do all the work baby.” He says patting you as you follow his instructions.

You spread your legs as Hobi crawls up the bed towards you. He places his hands on the headboard to hold himself steady and is on his knees running his cock through your folds.

You let out a broken whine and his eyes snap to yours in concern.

“I’m okay just…sensitive.” You admit already knowing that having a third cock inside of you in a short span of time will only make the soreness worse.

“I’ll go easy baby.” He says as he uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips even more and he slides his cock in.

Hobi is just as big as the others and even though you have lost track of how many times you have cum you can still feel a slight stretch as he bottoms out.

You close your eyes and scrunch your face, letting your body get used to the sensation as he stills and gives you time to adjust.

“Fuck you are so wet inside. Your soaking my cock baby. So fucking wet. And all for me.” He mutters in your ear causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

He starts to thrust shallowly inside of you and you bring your knees closer to your chest giving him more access to your core as he starts to pound into you with force.

Hobi is skilled with his hips and you can see why he would be a good dancer, he alternates from wild thrusting to burying his cock deep inside of you and grinding his hips causing his cock head to brush against your g-spot.

Hobi holds your legs open almost bending you in half and giving his cock room to go deeper inside of you, you swear you can feel him in your stomach but your eyes are too heavy to open right now so you take deep breaths and focus on the sensation.

The view you are missing is immaculate.

Hobi’s hips are thrusting deep inside of you and his head is thrown back in pleasure. His hair is sweaty and stuck to his forehead and his lips are sucked into his mouth as he works on bringing you over the edge.

You feel the coil of pleasure start to tighten and you know you are close.

Hobi is so good and once he gets into a rhythm he starts thrusting erratically making you shake on the bed and whine out his name.

Your eyes are screwed shut when you cum. Crying out his name in a broken moan that is ripped from your lungs. You want to cry from the feeling of having another orgasm as euphoria washes over you. It is too much and not enough at the same time and you feel tears slip out of your eyes when he continues to work his cock deep inside of you chasing his high.

“One more baby can you give me one more?” He asks in a desperate tone as his thrusts become erratic and you hold onto his shoulders for dear life as the overstimulation is almost painful.

“Ho-Hobi please please it’s too much… fuck!” You cry when his hand comes down to circle your clit and you feel your walls clamp down on his cock.

“Want you to cum with me can you do that baby. Come on one more on my cock.” He says breathlessly as you quickly reach the edge one more time and you cry out and feel your walls pulse against his cock which twitches and cums deep inside of your pussy.

He has his cock buried all the way in and is panting above you as you both ride out your highs.

When you finally come down the soreness in your body takes over and you slump against the headboard.

He pulls out of you and tosses the condom and leaves you spread eagle on the bed. You don’t mind though you are too worried about trying to force air back into your lungs after that intense orgasm.

Faintly you hear running water and you open your eyes to see Namjoon standing there leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into his pockets.

He changed out of his clothes into soft green pj pants and a big baggy sweater, the hood was thrown over his messy hair and he stared at you affectionately.

“Come on princess we have to get you cleaned up now.” He says as he enters the room and walks over to Hobi’s window throwing it open to air out the room.

You groan and bury your face in the pillows, the last thing you want to do is stand up right now.

“Come on I got you.” He says softly as he scoops you in his arms like you weigh nothing and you bury your face in his soft sweater as he carries you towards the source of the running water.

The bathroom lights are dimmed and you see Yoongi is already there testing the water with his finger. Namjoon sets you down on shaky legs and you look around at the three men standing in the bathroom, all of them grinning at you.

Namjoon slowly slips the straps of your dress down and he lets it pool at your ankles. You step out of it as Hobi holds you up and helps you into the warm bath.

You sink into the warm water and let out a content sigh as Hobi and Yoongi leave the room, leaving you with Namoon who is still staring at you affectionately.

“Take as long as you need Princess. Towels are over there and there is a change of clothes on the vanity. It’s our stuff so it might not perfectly fit but it will do.” He says with a dimpled smile.

“Yoongi is making some food so take your time we will bring it up to you.” He says softly as he closes the door.

You inhale the lavender scent of the bubble bath and you sigh and sink deeper in the water, hoping it will ease some of the ache in your legs.

You flutter your eyes closed and aren’t sure how long you are laying there when the door cracks open and Yoongi is there with a plate of noodles that smell wonderful.

He places it on a mini folding table and leaves the room again, giving you time to eat in peace.

You spend a total of forty minutes in the bath and as you dry off and throw on the soft sweatpants and sweater someone knocks on the door and you see Namjoon standing there again.

“How do you feel princess?” He asks still leaning against the door frame as you let your hair down and throw the hood of the sweater over your messy hair.

“Relaxed. And so sleepy.” You admit as he comes behind you and hugs you, letting his chin rest on your shoulder.

“You did amazing tonight princess. So good for us. It’s pretty late so if you want to crash here we have a spare room. Or if you're comfortable you can sleep next to one of us. Or if you want to go home you can. Your choice.” He says as he raises his head to stare at both of your reflections in the mirror.

“Wanna sleep next to you Joon? Is that okay?” You say feeling small and safe in his arms.

He shoots you a smile as he takes your hands and leads you to his bedroom. The small bedside lamp is on and you see the duvet already rolled down. He assists you over to the bed as your legs are still shaky and he helps you get under the covers.

He crawls in on the other side and flicks off the lamp casting the room in darkness as he comes behind you to spoon you, his hands holding you flush against him.

“What time is it anyway?” You ask craning your neck to look out his window where you can see a small sliver of the moon illuminated in the sky.

“Almost eleven.” He replies as you gasp.

You didn’t think that much time had passed.

“Time flies when you're being fucked.” He teases as you smack his arm and he laughs, face buried in your neck.

“You should give me bonus marks on the exam for dealing with your terrible jokes.” You grumble as he is still chuckling behind you.

“Maybe I will.” He says as you can hear his voice drop a couple of octaves, he must be as tired as you are.

“Night Mr.Kim.” You tease pushing your butt back so it’s flush against his cock as he groans low in your ear.

“Goodnight Miss Y/N”

[strniohoeee]

Labyrinth

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female reader

Synopsis: A numb and addicted y/n can’t seem to understand why her life suddenly feels different. She’s done nothing but move around in her adult years, so why is it now that she feels she can’t pack up and leave anytime soon?

Warnings⚠️: I haven’t written in over a month, so I’m super rusty this might be shitty! Cigarette smoking and mentions, mentions of addiction, mentions of alcohol. I don’t condone smoking or drinking (underage).🖤

Song for imagine: Cigarettes and Coffee- Otis Redding

Its early in the morning

About a quarter ‘til three

I’m sittin here talking with my baby

Over cigarettes and coffee

I was never one to deal with stress easily which led me to deal with it in the worst ways possible. Drinking, smoking, quitting jobs on the spot and even packing up and leaving places…..I know stupid and risky, but I never had that anchor in my life to tell me everything was going to be okay.

If I felt stressed and useless my things were packed and I was on the road to a new state. I think I was on state number 7 in about a year and a half. Who the fuck in their right mind handles stress this way? That was the million dollar question, and I had the answer…. I wasn’t in my right mind…not in the past, not in the present and undoubtedly not in the future.

After my last breakdown I landed in California precisely in Los Angeles, the city of angels. Where all your dreams and aspirations could come true. It just felt like lost paradise to me, but it’s the longest state I’ve ever stood in. For some reason I couldn’t find the power in me to leave when I got stressed. It was as if I had some unforeseen future here….a future of happiness and hope?

But the stress still gnawed at me. Will I ever have a career, will I ever be truly happy, will my parents be proud of me?How am I going to pay for next month's rent?How am I going to pay for next week's groceries?

It was a constant battle and I never severely suffered because I always found a way, but once all that was taken care of the immediate panic started again about how will I be able to do it all in the following weeks.

I started smoking constantly and it was weird because I wasn’t a smoker but I knew I should drink a little less. I only lit a cigarette when the stress was so bad I refused to drink anymore. Not like smoking was any better ruining my lungs rather than my liver….

But the problem was it went from one to two a day to five and on really bad days even up to eight. It was a bad crutch I simply couldn’t pull away from. They were my training wheels and I was so scared that once I let go I’d crash and burn.

I had an addiction and I had no one around me to slap me out of it. Of course I still spoke to my parents, but I just lied about it. I mean there’s truly no one to blame but myself, however all that regret left my mind once a lighter was in my hand and I took a long drag while the cool night breeze brushed against my skin.

I was lucky enough to have found a job almost instantly. It was a cute little coffee shop that had a small selection of books. It was a peaceful and slow paced job. We only really needed two to three people working. So I’d open at 8am and waited for the next girl to clock in at about 11am.

It was a fun job that paid the bills and my horrendous cigarette addiction. I had found a decent studio apartment nearby. But I was always convinced that this would be snatched from under my feet and I should never get comfortable. As you can expect this led to my extreme stress and anxiety.

I didn’t necessarily have friends here, I mean yes I was cool with my coworkers and boss; but we weren’t friends. It was more of a hi, bye situation. It didn’t bother me much. I was always a loner. I never really found people who got me, so I stayed with the only person who did…me.

On my days off I spent a lot of time walking around flea markets, heading into other cafes and even writing. I’d always hoped that one day I’d be a writer. My mind was always running and I figured someone out there might actually relate to and enjoy the words I’d write on a piece of paper.

Today I was actually working a small shift from 8am to 1pm. I was staring blankly at my reflection in the bathroom. Scrubbing my hands and gargling mouthwash. It was 11am and I was coming back from my break.

Spitting the mouthwash into the sink I closed the cap and stuffed the travel size bottle into my purse. Inhaling deeply I looked at myself once again.

“You have got to stop smoking” I replied in a mumble

Slipping my hand blindly into my purse I pulled out my perfume; spritzing myself before shutting the light and heading into the break room to place my purse back.

Slipping my apron on my coworker walked in, clocking in the back as she offered me a smile

“Good morning Y/N” she said as she walked towards me to place her things down

“Good morning K” I stated as I offered a smile back and began to make my way to clock back in

I wasn’t sure why her name was K, it was all over her employee paperwork. She was here before me, so I felt I had no right to ask her for her real name. But it was interesting for someone to just drop the rest of their name and solely go by a singular letter.

After punching back in I walked to the front, not a surprise it was dead. The only people lingering around were the 8am-9am crew. Sighing deeply I decided to clean up a bit.

It was about 12pm now and I was watching the clock anxiously waiting to clock out and run free. Usually I worked 8-4 and sometimes even 8-6. I had a whole day ahead of me and two days off might I add. I felt pretty invincible

Drinking from my water cup the door chimed signaling a customer. Placing the cup down I began to turn around.

“Hi welcome to Mugs” I stated as I turned around

Immediately I was intrigued. I have never seen someone as interesting before. I mean it is LA, so I have seen some interesting stuff; but no he looked different…. And for some reason I couldn’t really look away

Placing his vision glasses on top of his head he squinted his eyes to read the menu. My eyebrow raising.

“You know glasses are meant for you to see things” I said logging into the register as I looked up at him

“I’m sorry?” He said looking at me

“You um…. You put your glasses on your head and then squinted to read” I said pointing above me at the board

“Oh… well these are just blue light glasses. I genuinely can’t really see” he said in an awkward way

“Ohhh well uhh want me to read the menu to you?” I asked laughing a bit

“Oh no it’s fine, I’m not really a coffee drinker” he stated looking at our pastry display

“You do realize you’re in a Coffee shop?” I said jokingly

His mouth opened a bit and then he squinted his eyes

“I am now seeing how ridiculous I look” he said chuckling and shaking his head

“No judgment here” I said sticking my hands up in defense

“I won’t waste your time any more! Can I have a chocolate chip cookie and that bottle of Pepsi” he said pointing behind me at the small fridge

“One Pepsi and one cookie, coming right up” I said checking him out on the screen

Grabbing the cookie and bottle of soda I placed it on the counter and slid it towards him.

“You can tap or insert your card whenever you’re ready” I stated clicking some buttons on my screen

“I’m uhh actually paying cash” he said fishing in his wallet

“Woahhh cash in this century?” I said giggling and fixing the system

“Yeahh I carry a little bit of cash and little bit of card” he said shrugging his shoulders

“A little bit of card….hmm…that’s funny” I said giggling a bit at him

“Well you know what I mean” he says playfully rolling his eyes

“I’m just messing with you” I said shaking my head

Smiling he handed the cash over and grabbed his items

“Keep the change” he said waving with his hand and nodding his head

Walking out the door I couldn’t seem to understand why I had a stupid smile on my face. Putting the cash in the till and placing the change in our tip jar.

Turning around I was met with my two coworkers staring at me with a smirk on their face. I’d never been the spotlight of attention and I’ve never gotten anything other than a good morning from either of them. So my face dropped and I got self conscious

“What?” I said a bit scared as I straightened my posture

“He was totally into you” K stated as she placed the rack of cookies down

“Was not! We were just making friendly conversations” I said opening the pastry shelf and putting some cookies in

“No no I agree with K we’ve had a lot of guys come in here, but this is the first time I’ve seen a guy like utter more than two words to you and he was totally geeking out” Delilah stated

“Totally! That kid was blushing like crazyyy” K stated as she grabbed the now empty tray and began to walk back towards the kitchen

“Guys come on! It was just friendly banter” I said shutting the pastry door

“Delilah knows her shit too, that’s how Danny and I got together” K stated from the kitchen

“Shut up! No way” I said rolling my eyes

“Sure did! As soon as we had an interaction K told me he’d be back for my number, and that was three years ago” K replied

“You just got lucky this was nothing but mere coincidence” I replied back to them

“You’ll see girl” Delilah stated as she began to make herself a coffee

Playfully rolling my eyes I checked the clock, I had about 10 minutes till my shift was over. I decided to make myself a drink.

As I made my iced latte I began to wonder. I didn’t really have many interactions with guys, but I think I’d know if someone was flirting with me.

It just felt like a friendly banter with an awkwardly shy….nerdy guy. Laughing to myself I finished making my drink.

“Alright girls I’m going to clock out now” I stated as I walked to the back

Punching out and grabbing my things I slid my apron off and grabbed my drink. Heading towards the front of the cafe

I waved bye to the girls as I took a sip.

“Have a good day girls” I said as I walked out

I had the whole day ahead of me and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do. My job was near a pier where I could always sit down and watch people.

Before heading to the pier I decided to stop for some food. Heading into a small restaurant I sat down. Taking my book out of my purse I began to write. I hadn’t written in two weeks and it felt wrong.

Ghosting my hand over the paper, my mind just kept going blank. I couldn’t form a proper sentence and my mind began to race again. Thinking back on that boy I began to think about my love life.

Honestly I didn’t really have one, I was more of a hopeless romantic. Often watching rom coms and rolling my eyes at how unrealistic that love was. I’m sure it was tangible, but I was just a sour puss.

I longed for a relationship like that to always know you’ll have someone there for you loving you unconditionally. To be with someone through sickness and in health. I was only 22, but it seemed to me that everyone around me already had that amazing soulmate. I was very clearly late to the game and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever find someone to love. I wasn’t even sure I was lovable myself.

Then again I never put myself out there, but times have changed. It's not that easy. Guys have become so shitty and all they care about it sex. But it’s like what about getting to know the person deep down.

Not once has a guy ever asked me my dreams and aspirations, where do I see myself in five years? What are my biggest goals in life? What’s my biggest fear….. I lost all hope for love by the time I was 18.

Reading romantic stories and watching these shows and movies definitely added salt to the wound.

I hadn’t realized how much I was writing till my hand began to cramp. Looking up I realized it was no longer daytime.

“Shit” I muttered under my breath

Slamming my book shut I paid my bill and began to gather my things. Walking out of the restaurant I stepped out onto the golden street. It was about 5:45 and I really couldn’t understand how that much time had passed.

I think that’s why I enjoy writing the most, I’m so far gone in my own world it’s like I’m frozen and the world around me continues to move.

Walking towards the pier it was surprisingly empty at this time. Breathing in the salty air I sat down on a bench. Watching the ocean I let the breeze blow through my hair.

Digging in my purse I pulled out my pack of American Spirits. Sighing deeply I pulled a cigarette out. As soon as I grabbed my lighter all the regret washed away from me.

Placing the white object in between my lips I flicked the lighter a few times before a glowing flame appeared before me. Guarding the flame from the wind I brought it closer.

Inhaling as I lit the cigarette all my worries washed away. This was only my second cigarette of the day and I somehow felt accomplished.

Kicking the gravel underneath me I took a long drag, exhaling I got up. Walking over to the edge of the pier I decided to sit down allowing my legs to hang off the edge.

I wasn’t 100% sure I could do this, but it’s worth a shot I thought to myself. Leaning my chin on the railing I took another drag as I stared into the sunset.

Life was so beautiful and I wasn’t sure why I was so sad and numb all the time. I took a lot for granted and I hated it.

I really needed to stop smoking.

“You know those things will kill you” I heard from behind me

My brows began to furrow as I took a drag

“I’m sorry?” I said annoyed as I looked behind me, blowing the smoke out through my nose as my face dropped

“You shouldn’t smoke” he said again with a cheeky smile on his face

Meeting eyes with the same guy from the cafe made my heart skip a beat and my throat go dry.

“Squinting your eyes is also bad for you” I said putting the cigarette out

“Won’t kill me though” he said shrugging his shoulders

“You never know” I said shrugging my shoulders and standing up

His eyes followed me as I got up and it was only then did I feel super self conscious about this whole situation. My embarrassment turned a bit into anger.

“Anyways you drink Pepsi, so that for sure will kill you” I said as I dusted my pants off

“Guess we’ll both be dead then” he replied

“Wow you’re super blunt” I said scoffing

“Sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to come off rude. I was just playfully teasing” he said looking nervous

Looking at him for a split second and I sniffed and then rolled my eyes

“It’s fine. It’s a bad habit anyways” I replied shrugging my shoulders

“We all have bad habits we’re not proud of” he said in a whisper

“Are you uhh following me?” I asked him cocking an eyebrow

“What? No oh my god no! I was just walking and I thought you looked super familiar” he replied putting his hands up in defense

“I’m just teasing you” I said giggling

“I’m Matt” he replied placing his hand out for me to shake

“I’m Y/N” I stated as I shook his hand

“It’s nice to formally meet you” he said awkwardly

“Yeah” I replied awkwardly

“I’ll uh… ill let you go on about your business. Maybe I’ll see you around” He said

“Well you know where to find me” I said smiling at him

Opening my bag I was digging around for my phone before successfully pulling it out.

“Right, well have a good evening” he said and waved shyly

“I’ll see you round Matt” I replied

Going our separate ways I looked down at my phone, 6:55pm…. Sighing, I walked back to my car close to the cafe and drove home.

Shuffling up the stairs I pushed my apartment door open after unlocking it. Making note that I must call the maintenance guy because that door needs some WD40 badly.

Locking the door I turned my lights on. Today just felt strange like I couldn’t put my finger in exactly what the fuck was going on.

Walking over to my patio I opened the sliding door and stepped out. Taking in the evening breeze my mind just went blank.

Stepping back inside I grabbed my purse, grabbing my lighter I shuffled my hand around my purse to feel for my pack of cigarettes. But my brows furrowed when I didn’t feel the square container.

Walking over towards the light I opened my bag more and looked inside. An annoyed feeling washed over me as I couldn’t find the box. I mean honestly good because I did not need anymore.

Still searching as if the box was going to magically appear. I groaned soon realizing I must’ve left them on the bench and they are for a fact long gone by now.

Throwing my lighter back into my purse I groaned and sat on my couch. The one time I desperately need a cigarette I fucking left it on the pier.

I cut that night short with a 80s movie marathon and left over pizza as a midnight snack.

remembering that tomorrow I had to stop into the cafe to pick up my paycheck. We’re living in a very digital world right now and my job still does paper checks….

Groaning at that I decided to call it a night….

The End

Okayyy IVE BEEN GONE FOR SOOO FUCKING LONG. And I’m sooo sorry it’s just life has been so crazy since March! However this was the end of part 1….stay tuned for more🥺🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Warnings: ANGST! Idk if it's actually that angsty but I made myself sad. Very very brief mentions of kind of hurting yourself but not really? I actually can't remember what I wrote so if I miss something that needs a warning pls lmk

Word Count: 16.0k (fun fact: if you've read the whole series, you've read 105 pages single space)

A/N: y'all it's literally almost 1 am but I need to start this before I get crucified by the cult following I have created with this series. GIF credit @gavidaily

"You... are considering leaving Barca?"

Xavi looked at you with one brow raised. The same girl that had been fighting for her position at the club just 6 weeks prior was now thinking of quitting her job?

"You know Miss y/l/n, we are about to lose Antonio, and with how hard we push our players, we need to retain the largest amount of medical talent possible. You know that we think extremely highly of you and your ability, which is why you were selected specifically for this role. What can we do to make the job here at Barça more compelling than that of other clubs?”

You took a deep breath. You knew this question was coming. You had worked jobs and been in negotiations before. It would be a lot more expensive for them to hire someone new than to just give in to what they predicted would be a demanded increase in pay.

You looked at your lap, sighing with the weight of the feelings you had carried for God knows how long. It had sat on your subconscious, but was now bubbling to the surface, too powerful to be stopped. “Honestly, mister, I don’t think there’s anything that can be done.”

There’s a funny thing about women letting go. Some people call it the severance theory. Men are heavily guided by their emotions, contrary to popular belief. In a fit of rage they are capable of anything: screaming, blows - any number of crimes of passion. So when an extreme emotion overcomes them, be it sadness or anger or fear, they can end a relationship suddenly. Once they return to a base state of logic, that’s when the crawling back and groveling begins. Because they come to realize that her absence is a stronger pain than whatever drove him away. They exist in binary states: zeroes and ones. Either hatred or love. They don’t understand gradients or in-betweens. They don’t understand that there is another person who must also decide to return to the relationship.

Women on the other hand are much more resilient. It’s why we find the most gorgeous muses with the slimiest excuses for boyfriends. A woman will fall in love not with what she sees, but rather what she hears. What she is told. All the flowery, lovely promises about a glowning future, that’s what she clings to in the midst of a gray and bleak present. The soft whispers of “I love you” and “I don’t know how I would live without you” act as bandages, plugging the gaping wounds left by his actions. But her resolve slips the longer those promises go unfulfilled. The longer those holes go unfilled. She begins to see the truth of her situation, and realizes that the road she’s skipped down is a dead end. She imagines once again. She thinks of all the possible ways that he could change and be the man she wants. She searches for glimpses of it in his words, his movement, his aura. She does the silliest, most foolish thing a woman can do: she hopes. She holds on until not even her delusions can be a comfort. She realizes that there is no way for her to be happy with this man. That’s when she finally leaves. There’s no groveling, no tears, no remorse. It’s a clean severance of dead weight. She’s empty, and it lightens her being enough for her to walk away. There is no way to save it. The bridge has been burned and she was gone forever.

The funny part was, this didn’t just apply to men. That’s the thing about emptiness: it consumes everything. Loneliness is a black hole that swallows every ray of light that it encounters. That was your life recently. No light and no joy - not even sadness. You couldn’t feel anything strongly anymore. You picked up little habits to try and feel. You heated your food to scalding temperatures just to feel the heat on your lips. Your showers were icy, the pinpricks distracting you from the desire to cry. You no longer felt strong anger or desire or really anything. The color was slowly draining from your life, grays and sepias replacing the once vibrant existence around you. The beauty around you had mangled into gnarly trees and threatening uncertainty as you foolishly waited for the sun to peak through. But it had abandoned you. The sun had taken its rays and warmth elsewhere, almost mocking you as you shivered in the dirt. So maybe it was time to crate your own light: burn down the forest and start anew.

“Nothing? La, that can’t be true Doctora.”

Your eyes shot up at the title. There was, in fact, one feeling that you still sensed: pain. You could still feel physically pain, and inflicted it on yourself often just to experience an emotion. But nothing could compare to the sharp stabs and dull aches that lived in your heart. It was hard to look at Gavi without feeling like you wanted to fall on your knees. Realizing that you were in love was not beautiful or romantic. It was torturous, like snakes and thorns taking home in your throat. Reality was the salt in the wound; the knowledge that you two were destined to fail before you had began was a pill too big to swallow, suffocating you instead.

“If I can be honest, mister, I don’t feel like I belong here at Barça. I’ve been here for six months and I still don’t feel like part of the team. Maybe it’s just not a good environment or fit for me. That’s not something that can be fixed with just a salary increase. I just can’t tell if this is the place for me.”

Xavi looked at you, bringing his elbows to rest on the table and interlocking his fingers. He wanted to adamantly refuse, but there was truth to what you said. It was evident that there was a disconnect between you and the general environment of the team. You were close to some of the younger players, but had difficulty gaining the trust and respect of the older crowd and the medical staff. Your ideas for treatment were too modern - too far removed from what everyone else was used to. Hell, you were upsetting one of his players, and that was the opposite of your job as the support staff. But he would by lying if he said you weren't effective. The plan for Dembele that you had first presented got the striker back on the field weeks earlier than any other predictions. Your diligent maintenance had prevented players from getting injured as often, keeping the ones you were closest to on a strict exercise regimen, ensuring their continuous improvement. He cared for his players and his club. And if you were the miracle cure to keeping them healthy and playing, then he was going to keep you there, even if he had to tie you to the columns of Camp Nou.

"There must be something we can do to keep you. You're very familiar with the players and the equipment, as well as the workflow, and you're very good at your work. Hell, Gavi hasn't even had a cough since you started here, and he's quite accident-prone. Please let me know what I can possibly do to keep you with us."

"I really am not being shy or sneaky. I really have no demands. When then team heads to the UK for the game against Man U, I will visit the Chelsea facility and meet the staff. If I like what I see, I'll be moving there. I'm just... not happy here anymore."

There it was. The confession you had not even made to yourself. You were at the club of your dreams, living everything that your younger self had always wanted, and you just could not be happy. This was a disappointment that was hard to describe. Everyone always talks about shooting for the moon, but no one talks about what happens when you actually make it there. You work hard and your dreams become a reality: you're on the moon! But the moon is so, so far from Earth. And when you're cold and lonely and looking down on all of the people that could be loving you, then the moon doesn't seem so worth it anymore. When you realize the moon is just a rock, then what hope do you have left?

Thinking back, you recalled all the people that you pushed away to further your career goals. You think of the family gatherings and events that you missed to study and work. You think of all the friends you have lost touch with because they were never a priority. They were never smart or driven enough to keep up with you, and so they were left in the dust. You had a few, but none you could confidently say would pick up a call from you at 2am if you needed help. Boyfriends were even worse. Since your heartbreak in college, men had fallen to the wayside. You justified it to yourself, saying that you just needed to be successful, and you would attract someone at your level. Someone who wanted an equal. But here you were: alone, depressed, and thinking of running away from what you once thought was your life's purpose.

Before Xavi could respond, a loud thud from the hallway distracted the two of you, followed by shouts that chilled your blood.

"Gavi!"

You were out of your seat in seconds. There was no force that could stop you, feet and hands moving on their own accord as you entered the hall and laid eyes on the body on the floor. There was no air in your lungs or your larynx to make a sound, let alone scream.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

Your hearing was shot, like you were underwater. The faces of those surrounding were panicked, and all eyes were on you, shouts and points and calls for action flying straight over your head.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

Your stomach was twisting itself into elaborate knots, coiling tighter while pushing the bile further up your throat. Your eyes went in and out of focus, willing the scene in front of you to disappear. You blinked hard hoping for the image to change when your eyes opened again.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

"Doctora, please look at Pablo - he collapsed suddenly and we need to make sure he doesn't have a head injury. Move!" It was Antonio's hands on your shoulders and shouts that finally got you to move from your frozen position.

Kneeling over, Gavi looked even worse. His skin was pale, and he was crumpled like an aluminum can - limbs everywhere, like his life force had just abandoned him. You had to remove Gavi from the situation and pretend he was a practice dummy at school. You had to pretend he was plastic and rubber, because that's the only way you could go through head injury protocols with a calm mind. He couldn't be Pablo, because if he was, then the thought would have to fester in your head: Pablo was hurt when you had been distant. He was hurt because you had been distant. Worst case scenario, he could disappear from your life now, all because you hadn't been able to handle the proximity like a normal person. Your thoughts were spiraling now, painting scenarios of death and disease and making it even harder for you to stop the tremble in your hands.

But you had decided that his cold heap of flesh before you wasn't Gavi. It couldn't be. It wasn't even a person. You recited the head injury checklist under your breath: consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. Placing a hand on Gavi's neck, you felt a pulse, stopping you from performing CPR. The last thing you needed to do was unnecessarily crack a rib. You shook him several times, and received no response.

"Shine a light in his eyes!" "Shake him harder!" "Should we pour water on him? Get some water!" "You're not yelling his name loudly enough!"

You ignored the shouts of the peanut gallery, repeating the list like a mantra in your head. You would have time later to be angry at the staff for their utter uselessness in the situation, but right now, you just needed to keep going. Blood was pounding in your ears as you opened one of his eyelids. Consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. It snapped back into place, and Pablo's face was now in view. Other than his pale complexion, he looked perfectly at peace. His face was identical to the night you had spent sleeping next to him - sleeping atop him. His breathing was deep, as if he had spontaneously fallen asleep in the middle of the hallway. He was beautiful. And for the first time in days, it had allowed you to be filled with a warmth somewhat foreign to you now. Pablo was in your arms and beautiful, and you could not imagine how you were meant to go on with life seeing him every day and being denied this privilege. You didn't allow yourself to dwell on the thought. Breathing? Yes. Consciousness? No. That needed to be remedied.

"Pablo, if you can wake up now, it would be really helpful. Otherwise I'm going to have to cause you a lot of pain."

You waited for a response, but none came. You sighed deeply, moving your hands from the supple skin of his cheeks downwards, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it upwards, exposing the expanse of his chest. You made out the sounds of taunting and whistles, but they were promptly silenced by staff who reminded the crowd that this was not an appropriate moment for jokes. Forming a fist, you placed your knuckles on the center of Pablo's chest, pushing down and rubbing. Hard. His eyes shot open within seconds, and he threw your hand off, howling in pain. His breathing was shallow and panicked, vision erratic as teammates, coaches, and other staff all yelled questions and instructions at him.

"Everybody shut up! Let me do my job."

That was the voice he needed to hear. As the yells settled to murmurs, his breathing slowed and he began to see more clearly. His eyes fully focused on you, and it soothed the ache in his chest. His heart was racing faster than he had ever felt, causing Pablo to grab onto your shoulders to ground himself.

"Pablo, can you hear me?"

You were here. You were real. He could still hold you and feel you. He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. The nausea that he had felt before he blacked out still lingered, and the last thing he wanted to do was projectile vomit on you. He flinched slightly at the feeling of your hand returning to his face, but settled quickly, listening hard to your instructions. There was nothing easier than focusing on the sound of your voice.

"Look at me." You said, shining a light in Gavi's eyes, checking for any hemorrhaging or internal bleeding. What a silly request, he thought to himself, squinting under the brightness. How could he look anywhere else when you were in the room? How could he ever tear his eyes from you? How could he waste a single second of you before him, especially with the prospect of you leaving at the end of the month looming?

"No bleeding. Are you experiencing any double vision?"

A headshake no. You instructed someone behind you to grab a bottle of water, and then turned back to Pablo.

"Good. What is your name?"

Gavi swallowed thickly, and took a deep breath before speaking. "My name is Pablo Gavi."

"Good. And who am I?"

"Ah don't worry, Doctora. Even with amnesia, I could never forget you." There was that stabbing feeling in your chest again. That feeling that accompanied Pablo's sweet words and kind eyes. The cold shard of reality that reminded you that he would fade away into an Instagram mutual in a matter of months.

"Alright, Gavi. No internal bleeding and no memory loss. We need to go through more of the concussion protocols and make sure you're okay, but we can do this in my office. Are you okay to stand?"

After a curt nod, you helped Pablo stand, and began walking with him towards your office. You informed Xavi of the next steps, and he told you to do whatever necessary to make sure his 'golden angry bird' was okay. But of course, you could never know a day of peace, as each one must be filled with the noise pollution that was Ferran's voice.

"If the door isn't open, just know that Pablito isn't moaning in pain." A round of snickers was heard from both players and staff. But before they had time to add on to the nasty comment, you swiveled around to face the group. You were seething with anger, and one very important realization came to the center of your mind.

You had nothing left to lose.

It was Pablo Torre who was closest to you, and he was the person that received the start of your wrath.

"What the hell are you laughing at? The fact that your teammate could have serious head trauma? Or at the fact that, with Gavi potentially out of commission, they might take you off the bench long enough for you to remember what grass feels like?"

He was silent instantly, eyes wide. He had never received words this harsh from anyone at the club. Or anyone not on Twitter. You turned to two more assistant physios, Luca and Gabriel, who stood next to him, still muttering to one another in hushed tones.

"And you two! Do you want to know why everyone has to rush and get me whenever someone hits their head? Because out of everyone here, I'm the only one that knows proper concussion protocols and how to identify trauma. I have more medical knowledge in my fingernail than in both of your heads combined. I have to take him to my office because you two are incompetent at your jobs! And instead of doing anything useful, this is how you occupy your time: slacking, cigarette breaks, speculating who I'm sleeping with, and doing absolutely jack shit when a player gets injured. So keep giggling like school girls. I can't wait to see you both giggling on the street corner while begging for spare change."

You held Gavi harshly, storming off to your office. Your speed and the bounce was making him nauseous, but he knew better than to speak in this moment. His chest had swelled with pride. He was patiently waiting for the day that you would put the guys in their place. None of them were bad people - it had just been a while since most of them interacted with a woman they didn't want to sleep with. Gavi loved that you were capable of defending yourself, but could not ignore the part of him that wanted to be the one to defend you.

Call it a toxic trait if you want, but Pablo had always taken pride in his ability to intimidate. He had eventually come to terms with the fact that he was done growing at a sweet 5'7, despite his desire to break at least 5'9 (because his friend Hanna at La Masia told him that was the shortest a girl would go for. Looking back, taking this information from a 5'10 female footballer was probably not the best idea he's ever had). It had taken a while, but after weeks of daily affirmations in the mirror about how short Messi was, he held his chin higher. Once he started receiving praise from fellow players, coaches, and media, Pablo gained more confidence in the fact that he could be part of the next generation of great Barcelona football. This allowed him to go up against any player with no worries or fear, winning headers against people with a foot of height on him. Pablo began building his upper body in the gym as well, compensating with strength. A broad and reckless teenager, there was almost no one he wasn't ready to take on.

He sensed that same quality in you as well: a desire to prove yourself, no matter the cost. But he didn't want you to. He never wanted to see you scowl or have to hear you yell (despite it being semi-hot). Pablo wanted to be your knight, whose sole purpose in life was making sure that you never experienced feelings but joy and pleasure. He wanted others to go through him before daring to speak to you. Because how could every person just have access to the beauty that is you? To the radiant soul and shimmering aura that fills the room? How could he be content with you shouldering the burdens of living in this world? Even if he never got to have you romantically, Pablo wanted to shield you from every harm in the world. And not a day went by when he didn't feel it.

This was one of those moments. He wished he was able to verbally berate Ferran for the garbage he spewed on a regular basis, but he could do nothing except let himself be dragged by you through the halls of the sports center until they reached your office, where he was promptly flung towards the exam table. He watched as you brought him your small office trash can, setting it beside the bed. He was brought back to your first month at Barca, when he had challenged you and been proven wrong. There was a confidence in yourself and your abilities that had dissipated from then to now. Pablo smiled stupidly as he remembered the excruciating pain and discomfort of trying not to throw up in front of the pretty physio. If only he had known then that it was nothing compared to the pain of holding back these feelings.

"Lay down on the bed. Look up at the ceiling. If you need to vomit, do it in there." You instructed curtly before moving to sit at your computer. Short nails clicked harshly against the raised keyboard, keys slamming down rapidly, sound reverberating around the room. Gavi wanted so desperately to flip over, lay on his stomach and stare at you. Just to see the curves of your face and the way your eyes reflected the light. But he looked up at the ceiling like you asked, more worried about pushing you further away than watching you type. He took several deep breaths. This didn’t feel like the last time he was concussed. Last time, he had felt his brain rattle against his skull, waves of nausea starting immediately. His head ad throbbed, spots forming on his vision. His jaw was clenched, and he could’ve sworn there was a crack down the center of his cranium, blood oozing out of it onto the practice pitch.

He remembered that day so vividly despite the head trauma. He had been livid, Ferran dragging him to a new and inexperienced physio. Gavi had interpreted it as sabotage to that Ferran could get the left wing back. And then he saw you. Angry that he was he wasn’t receiving treatment by the best, he couldn’t say he was upset to look at you. You were a stunning kind of beauty, young and lively and clad in cool gray scrubs. But you were three years older than him, wildly advanced and talented, and he couldn’t swallow his pride - especially not with this nausea. He could not swallow the fact that you looked so damn familiar. He had seen you somewhere before: those eyes had looked at him with that same distress and concern. But he could not place it for the life of him.

Pablo thought back to how sweet you had been to him that day. How you had encouraged him to take pride in himself and be confident in the fact that he deserved all the success he had seen. He was so overwhelmed that day. His brain was absolute porridge, and he was doing his best for it not to pour out of his ears, all while his cheeks burned under your gaze. He was too preoccupied by his desire to muster one ounce of hatred to replace the overwhelming admiration in his brain that he could not determine where the hell he had seen you before.

And now here he was, once again staring at the ceiling, head throbbing, and the thought came to him again: why did you look familiar? Despite having known you for half a year now, the feeling that there was history had not left him. It wasn't that you had a common face. There was something about the way you looked at him, with a knowing and sadness, that touched a part of his soul. Like you knew things he had never even admitted to himself. While he thought that was just your way of being, he was coming to realize that look was one reserved specifically for Pablo. Now he wasn't nauseous, and focused on the rhythmic sounds of keys being slammed. He poised himself to ask a question, but not the one gnawing at his brain.

"What're you typing so excitedly? Hopefully not your resignation."

You looked up in time to watch Pablo's chest heave with the breathy (and very fake) laugh that he forced out. Your fingers rested against the keyboard, pausing your aggressive typing. How did Gavi know about your plans to leave? Had he been listening at the door? How long had he been standing there before-

"Is that why you fainted in the hallway? Because I'm leaving the club?"

"So you've already decided that you're leaving? You aren't even going to wait until you see whatever shithole you've been offered a spot at?"

There was an emotion that made Gavi's voice wobble, and you couldn't pin it exactly, but it sounded akin to betrayal. You finished the last sentence of your email, the swooshing sound indicating the message had been sent. Pablo bit his lip and stared hard at the fluorescent light. He didn't want you to see the distress in his face, but he couldn't help it. He hated how the dynamic between the two of you had been so warm, so close to the spark he desperately sought, just to go back to how icy your interactions began.

You pulled up a stool to sit next to him, and grabbed a pair of gloves as you approached. You noticed the slight quiver of his lip, and turned away to put your gloves on. The deep sadness in his eyes, the way his body tensed, the voice like a hurt child - was this all because of you?

"I was doing what I should've done my first week working here: I sent an email to HR about Ferran's nasty comments. Barca can't have a sexual harassment scandal right about now, especially not during the transfer window. And if they fire me, then they..." Your voice trailed off, throat closing up. It was still hard for you to process the possibility.

"If they fire me, then that's one less decision that I have to make."

You ran a gloved hand across his crown, feeling for any bumps or lacerations because of his fall. You felt worse the longer you continued the exam, the feeling that this was your fault sinking in. You had pushed Pablo away wordlessly after brining him in so close. But the majority of your brain screamed back at you how selfish it would be to drag Pablo into your black hole, ruining his career so that he could run after a girl who didn't even feel. If the sun in its greatness could not warm you, then how could ask this of Pablo?

"Now we need to talk about your fall in the hallway. It's quite obvious that you fainted but-"

"Were ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to freeze me out until you left the country?"

Gavi propped himself up on his elbows, eyes meeting you directly. You didn't know what to say. You couldn't tell him how you felt, especially not now. Not right before you disappeared.

"Have you ever fainted like that before? What have you eaten to day?" You asked, moving to throw away your gloves. "If you're having frequent spells of losing consciousness, then we need to have your blood iron tes-"

"Are you being serious right now, y/n? You're on the verge of quitting your dream job, packing up and leaving the country, and isolating yourself from everyone who cares about you, and you're asking about my blood iron? No."

Pablo stood, getting off the table faster than someone with a head injury should. He walked towards you, anger evident.

"No. You don't get to change the subject and talk about my iron. Or sit and try and diagnose me with anything. You know that I'm perfectly healthy. Want to know why I fainted? I'll tell you, Doctora."

Gavi was right in front of your face now, heavy breath fanning against your skin. You swallowed thickly, breathing just as heavy as you met his blazing stare. For the first time in weeks, your eyes started to moisten. Why was this scolding from Pablo going to bring you to tears?

"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."

Pablo was now cupping your face, holding it like it was the only thing that would tether him to the earth. He rested his head against yours, and suddenly it was too much. All the feelings that had escaped you for so long were coming back all at once, stacking on top of each other and smothering you. Your eyes welled with tears, and you wished the ground would swallow you whole to escape Gavi's piercing eyes looking straight through you.

"But you have to know that I don't just see you as a friend, Doctora. You have to know, even if you don't feel the same way, that I am -"

"We met before I got my job here. That's why you recognize me."

Gavi let go of your face, taking a step back. He looked at you with confusion and hurt. You both knew what he was about to say, and he couldn't understand why you wouldn't just let him get it off his chest. And as selfish as it was, you just couldn't take it. Pablo deserved better - someone that would lift him up, not hold him back. And if he said it, if it was out in the open, then you would never be able to put his needs first.

"The week of my interview, I went to pick up Angelika from the club. Angel went to get her from the VIP section and he left me in charge of keeping an eye on you."

"You... were watching me while I was drunk?" Pablo's brain was processing a thousand things at once. You had met him and remembered him? What had he said while drunk to make you hide that fact from him?

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

There were so many ways to answer this question that you didn't know where to begin. How could you explain to Gavi that you had been so captured by his beauty that night that it had thrown you off your axis, making you wonder if you had died and this was the angel sent to guide you to the pearly gates? How could you describe the intense pull Pablo had over you, tugging at your soul, urging you to stay with him? How were you to say the way your heart broke on his behalf, wanting to hold him in your arms and protect him from everything that made him feel less than the most special person alive? All you had wanted was to kiss him, to pull him in, to never let him go. But none of the words materialized. Because to you, the cruelest thing you could do to Pablo was keep pulling him into you. He was pure light, and you couldn't bear the burden of being the one to extinguish it.

"It was an insignificant moment in a club. Nothing worth mentioning. I didn't even remember until Pedri reminded me when I started."

There it was. The sentence that made Gavi crack. You watched the hurt seep into his features, and a heavy air filled the room. Brows coming together, he looked at you expectantly, waiting, praying, that you would take it back.

"Meeting me was ... insignificant?"

Eyes locked, there was nothing you could say that would erase this moment. You swallowed the lump in your throat, playing with your fingers. You spun the ring you wore around your finger, trying to occupy your mind with anything other than the thought that you were the human embodiment of garbage.

The silence remained, growing thicker with each passing second. It enveloped the both of you, tendrils wrapping around and ripping the two of you apart, fraying whatever string of fate had brought you together.

"You think it was just a coincidence, meeting me in the club weeks before we become coworkers? Friends? Something... beyond that...and you think that coincidence was so forgettable that it wasn't even worth mentioning?"

There it was. The cold front that you put up, the one that pushed everyone away, no matter how hot their love for you burned. You were the ice princess, destined to go through life cold and untouchable and alone.

"Some people you just meet, Pablo. It doesn't mean they're meant to be together. I needed to get my friend out of the club and I just ran into Angel. He left me in charge of you so that you wouldn't do anything stupid or childish while drunk. I was in a club babysitting an 18 year old kid who was pouring his heart out to me while wasted. I didn't say anything to save you from the embarrassment."

That was the straw that broke Gavi's heart. He stormed towards the door, unable to look at you any longer. Had he really been lead on; allowed to believe that you were his friend, or at the least respected him, when this entire time you just saw him as a little kid. His last line to you was spoken so softly you almost didn't hear it over the deafening slam of the door.

"They're going to love you in England."

~

"Your English is very good for someone educated in Spain."

You looked up at Steve, flashing a practiced professional smile that showed no indication of offense at the objectively offensive statement.

"Thank you, Dr. Hughes. I did complete my baccalaureate degree in the United States, but I'm glad the last two years in Barcelona have not damaged my language."

Now it was his turn to laugh uncomfortably as he lead you through the garish blue halls of Stamford bridge. The entire plane ride you had told yourself that this could be the fresh start you needed. This could be the opportunity to turn your life around, and so you should approach it with fresh eyes and an open mind. But the walls were hurting your eyes, the blue and white making you think of Martin in his kit. You were lead into the trophy room, which was a lot smaller than you were used to.

"Here you can see some of the club's shining moments. We have had an... interesting season this year, but you know that performance fluctuates between seasons. We hope to be back on top again very soon, especially with an entirely new medical team coming on board."

You scanned the shelves and glass cases, admiring the look of trophies you were familiar with, and ones you had never seen before.

"An entire new medical staff? No one is staying on?" You asked, confused. What kind of club replaced everyone all at the same time? Usually at least one person remained to pass the torch, to maintain familiarity. It set warning bells off in your head.

“Ah, well, many of our staff members were quite loyal to Dr. Henry, you know he was here for 17 years after all. So they all followed him out. But we are excited to usher in a new wave of sparkling young medical talent!”

You swallowed hard, still feeling from the information. You still hadn’t finished your degree, and yet you were being offered a head position at what was supposed to be a huge and well-respected club. You couldn’t help but think of the blaugrana.

Something flitted in your chest, a feeling that surrounded you whenever you walked into the camp. The feeling of family, like you were home. The coldness of Steve’s answer didn’t spark anything close to that feeling. Not every workplace needed to be a part of your heart, a new family. These days. You had no idea what your family was supposed to be, or if you had one at all. Your brain begged you to ask what the environment was like, how close the staff was, what created such a high level of loyalty that they would all follow this man wherever he went, abandoning club and home. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, asking instead,

“Do you only display the most recent. Champions League trophy?”

More laughter from Steve, but of the fakest nature. “Yes we have one on this side, one on the other. They’re … ehem, all of our UCL trophies are displayed here.” Your cheeks warmed with subtle embarrassment. You knew nothing about this room or this club, and if you were honest with yourself, you had no desire to. You missed Barca. But you had to give this club its chance – an honest shot to be your new home.

The two of you continued through the halls as Steve showed you all the medical equipment and facilities that would be at your disposal should you accept. At the end, he led you to the players’ lounge, offering you a seat. The blue had given you a baby migraine, and you were incredibly grateful for the ability to sit and rest. You refused the gracious offers for food, sipping on a bottle of water to dull the throbbing against your skull. You searched the room for something, something familiar – a face, a number, to make you feel like everything was going to work out in the end. But it never appeared, the bright colors and foreign faces more of a discomfort than anything else.

"Make yourself comfortable, Doctor. Let me get some of the players that you'll be working with, and you can hear from them what the environment is like."

You nodded sweetly, sitting up straight with ankles crossed in the way Princess Diaries taught you to. As the footsteps faded slowly into the distance, a sigh passed between your lips. What were you doing? Despite the lecture given to yourself on the uncomfortable plane ride over (Chelsea would only pay for economy), it had all gone out the window. Your gut was in knots, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were doing something wrong.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and the screen lit up in your hand to read "One Football: FC Barcelona vs Manchester United - Starting lineup now available." The notification had been pressed before you registered what was going on. Your eyes scanned the list just to land on one name. Your mind went back to the last conversation the two of you shared. The most venomous words had slipped past your lips, and you had finally done it: you pushed the last person who cared for you away. The sentiment was harsh. How could anyone ever recover a relationship after shattering it so completely? Despite how much much it hurt to grip the broken shards so tightly, you held on nonetheless, packing Gavi's hoodie in your bag, the '6' embroidered into the pocket cutting open a gaping wound in your heart, and yet you enjoyed its presence there.

"Doctora, I'm pleased to introduce Kepa and Christian. They have been with the club for a while, and they would be happy to answer all your questions."

~

"A scoreless first half here at Old Trafford as both Barcelona and Man U return to the locker rooms for half time. As we saw Pedri went down in those final minutes of the half, and we've received a report that he is out for the rest of the match. His injury status is unknown, but if the magician is out of commission, this could be a very easy steal for United."

The sounds of fists slamming against lockers was loud enough to be heard all the way home in Spain. Pedri Potter, the star, the leader of Barca's new era, was now in icing his right hamstring in some medical examination room, while the rest of the team scrambled to figure out a scenario in which they would win without him in a mere 15 minutes. Gavi bounced his leg anxiously, eager to see his friend and make sure he was okay.

"Listen up boys. We can win this game without Pedri. The score is now 1-0 to Man U, and all we need to do it score once to tie. Then we are back home, our turf and our fans. Robert, Rapha, your goal is to put the ball in the net. I don't care what you have to do. The middle, you need to get the ball in a good position for these two. That means Gavi, you'll be- Gavi pay attention!"

Head snapping up, Pablo's eyes met Xavi's directly. He knew he should be paying attention - this was the first of several games that needed to be won until they reached a trophy. He needed to be on his A-game, and yet, his mind was drifting. He wished it was just concern over Pedri capturing his attention. But in the corners of his mind, your voice lingered. "Babysitting... insignificant... embarrassment." All words you had used when talking about him as he was on the verge of pouring his entire soul out onto the linoleum for you. He didn't understand the anger that flowed through him. It was a sense of ... incompleteness. If you had let him finish, let him say the words that he didn't fully understand, then he would have been okay. He would have watched as you kicked his beating heart against the wall, telling him that you could never feel that way towards him. He would have been okay: relieved. But you had left him dangling off the edge of a cliff, with no relief in being pulled to safety nor mercy in being allowed to fall.

Xavi gave his instructions to the midfield and the defensive line, going over the weak points that needed to be addressed.

"Pedri is most likely out for the next eight weeks, missing both the next match and the SuperCopa, so this is your opportunity to adjust to playing in high-stress situations without him."

Gavi's head raised fully at this. Eight weeks? It has been forever since someone was out for that long. Since the beginning of the season... since you had joined the team. A pinch in Pablo's chest. His brain repeated over and over that the best thing to do was let you go. To let you be your own person, grow and be independent, saving himself the heartache because the one girl he wanted was the one he couldn't have. Yet his heart held on with an iron grip. It refused to release you, reminding him of every sweet moment shared in cars and offices and bedrooms. It was quick to forget the pain of being perceived as a child. Pablo's heart begged him to wait for you, because it was incapable of letting go of a devotion so intense. His heart ached for you, longing for the day he be deemed worthy enough to love you wholly and completely.

"Eight weeks is insane - we have never gone that long with our midfield handicapped. Is there no way to speed up recovery? Who gave the estimate?" Robert asked, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Luca is the only one from the medical staff who is here right now. He is the one who made the determination. Of course, the rest of the staff will be free to reevaluate when we return home. But Luca will be the one continuing with the course of treatment, and so we will go with his estimate."

"What? Where is y/n?" The question came from Alejandro, followed by hushed agreement. Even if you were not the first point of contact for all the players, you were a team staple, becoming as familiar to them as the crest embroidered on their uniforms. The older players had watched as you performed medical miracles on their teammates that rivaled what Jesus did for the blind, allowing the team to prosper all season. 15 points at the top of the table, and at least half had your name on them. The youngers had felt your impact directly, following your instructions like gospel. They knew how much care you showed to every single one of them, from the starters to the bench warmers. Your hands had put them back together. A touch of you lingered in all the success achieved, and your absence felt closer to abandonment than anything else.

"You should ask Pablito - he would be the first one to notice that his girlfriend wasn't on the flight." Ferran's voice: the closest human equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. After everything that had taken place, it was a wonder he still had the energy to be an ass.

"Maybe you should ask Ferran about his HR investigation, which is a main reason that she's touring the Chelsea facility fight now. Hey, maybe you'll see her this summer when you get sold there. They're always looking for people to keep the bench warm while the important players are on the field." Gavi spoke calmly and evenly, like he was stating pure fact. He stood, leaving the room to avoid the round of questioning that was about to occur regarding HR and the doctora's new home.

The click of Pablo's cleats echoed loudly in the hallway a she approached the medical room, where Luca was fumbling with bandage and his laptop, while Pedri waited on the exam table like a fish at the market. His head turned at the sound of Gavi's approach, and he gave a weak smile to the younger player.

"I finally pushed it too far. Great timing, eh Hermano? It's only a Champion's League, a SuperCopa, and a potential classico that I'll miss. Nothing significant."

Gavi could do nothing but let out a slight laugh, cupping Pedri on the back of the neck. His heart hurt for his friend. This is what every player dreamed of: playing for cups, winning with the team of their dreams. And Pedri was going to miss all of it because they had relied on him to heavily, asked him to bridge too many gaps.

"Please don't say that word to me ever again. Luca, how's it looking? Eight weeks seems a little excessive for a sprain." Gavi knew that Luca was doing something wrong. Or stupid. Or, the most likely option, both. When Ansu had sprained his hamstring, he was back on the field in 28 days under your care. Alejandro had a minor tear in his meniscus, and yet still he was faster than the speed of sound 6 weeks later. Now there was no you. No melodic voice explaining muscle strain and stride length and tissue recovery. Just a stupid, lanky Spaniard in free Barca merch putting "leg hurts" into Web MD and seeing what he can diagnose with this time.

"Why don't you let the medical professionals do their job, Gavi, and you go back to putting your head in front of peoples' feet."

Looking to quickly diffuse the situation, Pedri turned to his friend, wanting to stop looking at the man who might end his football career with a wrong move and an 'oops'.

"I'll just let y/n look at it when I get back home. She'll fix me up in no time. That is, if you give me one of your spots on her schedule."

"Yeah, that's if she even comes back to work."

Pedri looked at the younger boy with confusion. It had been several weeks since he had seen Gavi with his favorite physio. Initially, he thought the crush had faded - that Pablo had found another pretty thing to maintain his interest, and you had fallen to the wayside with the other failed football loves. But Pablo was so clearly unhappy. He was more irritable, spending more and more time on his phone while avoiding the group all together. He sat silently in Pedri's passenger seat, screen illuminating his face but remaining silent.

[Doctora]: Good morning Pablo - running late. Will bring you an apology smoothie

[Doctora]: im going to need you to send me a video of you tying your shoes as proof

[Doctora]: i'll tell you when i see u tomorrow

Gavi had spent two weeks going back over every message you had ever sent him. He watched the way your tone changed from proper and professional to something lighter, more friendly and familiar. Over and over your voice played in his head.

"Pablo."

Pride be damned. He missed you. As he stood behind his teammates, whispers about the staff still whirling around the tunnel, it dawned on him. Barca, the club of his dreams, the fantasy of his childhood, would never - could never - be complete again if you left.

"And we're back in Old Trafford for the second half of this UCL match between the Historic FC Barcelona, and the red devils of Manchester United."

~

"That's incredible that you went to school there! I'm a ride or die for their basketball team, so you already have my respect."

You flashed Christian a smile - a real one, the first genuine display of joy you've been able to muster in a while. Both of the players had shown a genuine interest in getting to know you, trying to sell you on the idea of joining the club. Kepa had gushed over how much he loved living in London, citing his experiences as a fellow Spaniard.

"You're around so many Spanish speakers at the club, you hardly miss home."

Christian, the more injury-prone of the two, talked about his experiences with the medical team, and the close relationships he had built there. All of the medical team had become family to him in some way or the other. It calmed your previous anxieties. Maybe it was just a fear of change keeping you tethered to Barca, and all you needed was time to adjust.

"I think you'd get along really well with the other players, of course, the ones that opt-in to working with you."

This statement from Christian caught the attention of both you and Steve, who rushed over before you could ask for clarification. Opt-in? How could you opt-in to medical treatment?

"Miss, I think that Kepa and Christian have both done a wonderful job of providing just a small taste of what it means to be part of the Chelsea family. We don't want to keep them from afternoon training."

You said your thanks and goodbyes, but before they left Kepa turned to you, as if suddenly struck with a lightening bolt of realization.

"You're the Barca physio that works with Gavi, right?" He asked in Spanish. "He mentioned a girl physio during international training."

Another knot in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. "Yeah that would be me."

Kepa's face shifted, brows downturned and lips pursed. "Let me give you my contact information, in case you have any more questions." This line was in English, spoken more in Steve's direction than in yours. He approached, taking the phone from your hands and switching back to Spanish.

"Don't leave Barca. Gavi talked about you a lot during the break. They respect and value you a lot there - don't throw that away." He handed the phone back to you as you tried to contain your expression, suppressing the shock you felt from displaying itself on your features. What could Pablo have said that would make this man go out of his way to prevent you from joining this club? What had been so compelling that Kepa worked against his own best interest?

It was now just you and Steve in the room, and you turned to him, his skin flushed, to ask about Christian's little slip.

"There was something mentioned about players opting out of treatment?"

"Ah, just a small clause in your contract. Just says that players can choose not to be treated by club medical staff and find their own if they feel uncomfortable. It's all there in the paperwork somewhere. You can call my assistant if you read over it again and have more questions. Now, I know that you need to go soon, but I wouldn't be able to let you go without meeting one of our new signings. Someone else who knows what it's like to decide to make the shift from La Liga here to the old PL. Come with me."

You rose from your seat, migraine returning from the stress onset. What was being kept from you? Obviously you hadn't read your employment offer close enough. You walked through the passages somewhat mindlessly, following Steve with your body as your mind drifted elsewhere. What was being hidden from you?

"Joao, nice to see you again! This is Doctor y/l/n, and we're trying to convince her to make the same switch from Spain to London."

All of your medical education had told you that the masticator and other jaw muscles were voluntary; that they could be controlled and moved when you wanted. Not today. Your jaw went slack, and it refused to shut as you stared at the Portuguese beauty before you. There was no way. How had you missed the news of his move. How unprofessional was it to say 'pinch me' during what was essentially an interview.

"Nice to meet you, Doctora. I'm quite relieved that I don't have to speak in English - apparently my accent is not as good as I thought."

Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You had yet to say anything or even shut your mouth. Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You laughed lightly at his statement, muscles moving independently of the pudding that was your brain currently. Joao Felix was shaking your hand.

"I'm sorry, it's so nice to meet you, I'm just a little overwhelmed. You're one of my favorite players in football right now. I've been following you since your debut. Oh my God."

It was Joao's turn to laugh, a light and glorious sound. You had made him laugh. You wished someone was recording so you could send the video to Angeliika. And your mom. They would both go into cardiac arrest. His skin turned slightly pink as he scratched the back of his head, flattered by the admiration of someone so accomplished (and, as he would later reflect, gorgeous). Despite not understanding a lick of Spanish, Steve knew he had made a winning move by introducing you to Joao. The two of you leaned into each other as you spoke, and he motioned towards the field, inviting you to a stroll around the turf to chat.

All of your pride and prejudice fantasies were being realized in this moment. You were taking a polite stroll around the grounds with a man that you had salivated over while watching football on TV. A golden boy and future champion. He was something incredible. Witty and charismatic and easy to talk to. Everyone says not to meet your heroes, and yet here you were, floating several inches above the ground beside Joao.

"So, what club are you moving from? Can't be something in Madrid - I would remember you."

Lord, this was too much. You gave a silent thanks to the heavens, all the good karma you had accumulated throughout your life manifesting on this day.

"Oh no, not a Madrid club. Just a small Catalan club called Barca. Heard of it?" You teased as Joao stopped in his tracks. It was his turn to go wide-eyed and slack jawed.

"You're the Barca girl physio? I have heard of you! One of the physios at Atleti is your classmate. He said you're crazy smart."

How were you staying alive when all the blood in your body was in your face? How had so many people in the football space heard your name with you blissfully unaware. The smile on your face was not just due to the compliment. Maybe there were people ready to be there for you, and you just needed to reach arm out to them.

The conversation came to a close as you watched other groups come onto the field, preparations being made for upcoming matches. You thanked Joao for his time, once again involuntarily gushing about how surreal this experience was.

"Ah, there's really no need. The pleasure was all mine. I hope that I'll get to see more of you, Doctora, no matter what decision you end up making." Stretching his arm out, pulling you in for a hug. He enveloped you, arms wrapped tightly around your frame in a way that was borderline inappropriate for a goodbye. He smelled heavenly, the warmth radiating from his body akin to a fireplace. This was the stuff of dreams and imagination.

And yet, Joao was not the name on your mind. He way he smelled was beautiful and yet unfamiliar. Your thoughts traveled back to the last hug like this you had shared with someone. To the scent of One Million and powdery deodorant, mixed with something that couldn't be bottled. To the feeling of strong arms sitting lower on your waist. To brown hair and brown eyes and a brown leather couch. To white shirts and white bedsheets. To the soft voice and smooth voice that called for you.

"Doctora."

Logic be damned. You missed Pablo. And then the empty expanse of your soul filled with a feeling of dread. You had made a mistake. So many mistakes. Pushing away Pablo, lying to your friends about how much you needed them. Considering another job. Nothing in the the blue and white had given you even 1% of the feelings you experienced walking into Camp Nou every day. But you would never be able to go back if Gavi was angry with you. Ferran was cattle waiting to be sold. Gavi was a contender this year's golden boy, a powerhouse on the field, a bright star for both club and country. You reached into your bag, staring at his name in your phone. But your fingers shook too violently to press the call button. You remembered the hurt on his features, the way he couldn't even look at you as he passed in the halls. You weren't ready to see [Call Declined] appear on your screen. Instead you rested your phone on your lap, reaching in to retrieve your Chelsea contract.

Obviously, your eagerness to run away from your current life had blurred your vision. On page 22 of 31, there is was in what appeared to be a smaller font than the rest of the agreement.

"Under FIFA and British Football regulation, players may refuse treatment from club-appointed medical staff for any reason, including but not limited to feelings of fear, discomfort, lack of safety, and lack of confidence. Providers will be compensated on a fee-for-service basis, where compensation is scaled based on the number of players consistently treated. Should more than 40% of players request alternative treatment, the club may terminate the contract with the provider before the term of the contract has elapsed."

Your eyes widened, brows knitted together in confusion and borderline disgust. Women in medicine were already at a disadvantage, and that increased tenfold for women in sports medicine. Should the players feel uncomfortable with you because of your sex or age, you could spontaneously be out of a job after picking up and moving your whole life?!

Before you could pick up the phone and tell Steve that he would need to find someone else to fill this cursed position, a buzzing came from your bag. Who was calling your work phone?

"Hello?"

"Good evening Doctora y/l/n, hope that your visit at Chelsea went well." Andreas was Xavi's secretary, and he was the closest thing you would ever get to the cast of The Devil Wears Prada. He was rather cold in the way that he spoke, but never rude. Well dressed and straight to the point - commanding of respect.

"Went very well, Andreas. I got to meet-"

"Mister Xavi has asked for your presence on the flight back to Barcelona to discuss your future with the club. It is of the utmost importance that this meeting occur as soon as possible. So you need to be in Heathrow by tonight at 11pm for check in with the rest of the team."

"But my flight back to Barcelona is tomorrow and I-"

"You'll be fully reimbursed for the cost of changing your travel. We are leaving from Terminal 2. Have a wonderful evening."

Just like that, you were wondering how fast you could pack everything and leave in the next 6 hours when your personal phone buzzed in your lap.

[Pablo]: I know u said u need space but

[Pablo]: i rlly need to talk to u

[Pablo]: can i meet you somewhere?

Heart racing, you typed back as fast as you could with trembling fingers, telling him that you would be so happy to meet him, giving him the address of a café near your hotel. You didn't want him to see what your salary could actually afford (since Chelsea didn't cover your travel accommodations). You let out a sigh of relief. He wanted to see you. He wanted to speak with you. He wasn't completely lost.

~

Packing had been fast - you had only brought the essentials to London to avoid paying a bag fee on the budget airline you had traveled. Fixing yourself in the mirror, you let out a deep sigh. What were you even going to say to Pablo? Begging for forgiveness seemed the most logical choice. You practiced your apology in the mirror, and yet froze every time. How would you respond when he asked you why? Why it had been so easy for you to push him away, to strike him down, to make him feel so utterly unimportant to you and your life? You didn't know how you would respond.

Feelings of the heart are often the easiest to articulate. They're not like emotions. Emotions are straight forward: happiness, anger, sadness, jealousy. Things that were caused by one identifiable source, and could be expressed easily with words and actions. But the matters that went beyond feeling, those were the most difficult to understand, let alone communicate. Despite his form, it wasn't lust that drew you into Pablo. Those thoughts had made you breathe heavy and push your thighs together. The glimpses of Pablo's bare form were painted on the edge of your mind, soft skin and hard muscle, inviting you in for a touch, a taste. It was an exciting idea, but not the one that riled you up the most.

No, it was something different. It was a scene that had plagued your mind for weeks upon end, always causing you to wake in a cold sweat with a tightness in your chest, breaths labored. You pictured yourself laying on Pablo's bare chest, drawing circles on his skin as his heart beat rhythmically for you to listen to. As you drifted off, he would place a kiss on the top of your head, running a soothing hand down your spine. It wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer into him, as he whispered softly.

"Mine."

It was a magnetic pull that Pablo had, a force of nature that you were unable to escape. It could be described as nothing other than desire, like you would make the world stop spinning until the two of you were united. There was a higher force tying you to Pablo, and etched in your bones was a knowledge that you would never be able to leave him. But the sentiments died on your tongue before they could ever take to the air, never to fall on the ears of a certain Spaniard.

As your heels clicked against the city pavement, a sense of calm washed over you. He had reached out to you. There was an olive branch being extended. He was ready to hear what you had to say. Yet upon entering the small space, a different voice called out your name.

"Pedri?"

It was impossible to hide the disappointment in your voice. You had built up the confidence to come here solely based on the premise that Gavi wanted to see you. Your ego had deflated, back to feeling like utter garbage for the way you had treated the person who, in reality, was your closest friend. Before the self pity could fully sink its claws in, you noticed the full-leg brace that Pedri was sporting.

"I'm sorry that I used Pablo's phone to text you - didn't have your personal number, and it would be a little... salt-in-the-wound-ish to ask him for it right now. Especially since you asked him not to speak to you."

"I never said that!" You exclaimed a little more enthusiastically than intended, causing a couple people to glance in your direction. Pedri escorted you to a table in the corner, offering to go and get you a coffee to fight the chill of a London January.

"No please. It's completely fine. You shouldn't be standing with a torn muscle anyways."

Pedri looked at you inquisitively. He had not seen you in a while, especially with you and Gavi not on speaking terms. He had missed the quips and sarcastic comments he was able to catch during training. He missed the feeling of safety whenever you cared for himself or others on the field, as he knew that you were to be trusted with their bodies. He missed the fire you sparked in Pablo, leading to unparalleled passion and unprecedented performances. The air of natural confidence that you spoke with is what brought the smile to his face. Not hesitation or wobble in your voice. No need to consult a dozen others. Medically, you knew your shit.

"A tear? Luca told me it was only excessive strain on my hamstrings."

A scoff and an eye roll that widened Pedri's smile. "I wouldn't let Luca perform medicine on a Barbie. That's the wrong kind of brace if it's a sprain. It's immobilizing. You need something with compression - a thigh sleeve most likely. Have you been icing it?"

"How could you leave Barca when your successors are idiots like Luca?" His arms folded across the table in front of him as the realization spread across your features. You were acting like his physio on impulse.

"How did you know I was thinking about leaving?"

"Everybody knows. No one could focus on today's second half because of it. When I went down everyone was scrambling to find you and call you. Everyone, myself included, was waiting for you to run across the field, bag in those magic hands ready to come and give me a new leg. But then you weren't there. And I was just praying that Luca didn't schedule me for an amputation."

A shy smile and a breathy laugh. You met his kind eyes, piercing though you. It was surprising when you felt the wetness on your cheeks, registering you were crying only after the tears had rolled down to your chin. He brought his chair in closer, holding your hand, and you held on for dear life. Your tears were falling in earnest now, fat and fast enough to hit the table as you used Pedri as a lifeline.

"Come back to Barca."

"I can't Pedri. I've... I've just made such a mess of everything."

"You're talking about Pablo."

"I'm talking about everything. I have a player that actively hates me and is looking for every opportunity to get me fired. Everyone on the team thinks that I'm sleeping with Pablo. And Pablo - I can't even explain how much I messed up. I told him to stay away from me. To give me space. I don't want space." You rested your forehead against the cool wood of the table. "I just want him to talk to me. When you sent me that message I was so excited. I thought he was ready to forgive me."

"Don't worry for a second about Ferran. We heard about the complaint to HR and I'd be happy to speak on your behalf about the dogshit he says to you. Everyone with a brain knows you're not sleeping with Pablo - they all have so much respect for the work that you do. Dembele came to me after the match and told me to contact you. He said your first assignment for Barca was to work on his leg recovery, and it was the best treatment he's ever had." You raised your head, tears turning your eyes red and puffy as they stained your cheeks.

"This may be selfish of me to say, but I would do anything to have you stay at the club and work with me. I can't miss all of these cup games because the physios don't know what's going on. This is everything I have ever wanted in my life. And if you're the person that can help me get there, then nothing, especially not Ferran and the other airheads at the club, are going to hold me back."

He moved to grab your other hand as well, looking you straight in the eyes. There was not one indication that he was exaggerating his sentiments. He wanted to win more than he wanted to breathe.

"And Pablo? Don't worry about him."

"How can I not worry, Pedri. I was so cruel to him. He'll never speak to me again."

"Doctora, don't you know that there's no one on this earth he holds in higher regard?"

~

The terminal was surprisingly quite busy upon your arrival. It seemed that everyone was catching an international red-eye, causing you to stumble through crowds with your small bag and exhausted demeanor. You approached the airport staff, utterly lost in trying to find the meeting place. It was 10:56pm, and you didn't have the money to be missing the company-sponsored return flight.

"Excuse me, I'm with the F.C Barcelona team. Where can I check in for my flight?"

"I don't remember them becoming a unisex team.'' Your expression remained neutral as the staff member chuckled at his own joke. You didn't have time to give a lecture on the dangers of misogyny. "I need to see your Barca ID."

"I don't have my team ID badge, but if you let me speak to-"

"Don't you women have something better to do than try and fuck a footballer? Lord, you even have a suitcase and everything. I suggest that you go home and stop with these little charades - it's embarrassing."

You stood speechless as the man walked away, stationing himself in a different area of the terminal. Behind you, screams were heard coming from the door, followed by flashes of light in rapid succession.

"Gavi I love you!"

"Pedri Pedri! You're my idol!"

"Xavi have my babies!"

Your attention shifted to the security guarding the entrance as the Barca squad filtered through the doors, all dressed in coordinated pale yellow. You speed walked towards them, pace catching the attention of one of the guards.

"Miss, you need to maintain space."

Gavi turned to look at the person that was causing a disturbance. Usually it was a child who had gotten a little too excited to see their favorite players, and often the soft spot in his heart compelled him to give them a picture or signature. It was hard to have your dreams crushed as a child by a celebrity that didn't care, and he was determined not to be that type of person. That's when his eyes locked with a pair oh so familiar to him. He stood in place, frozen as his teammates narrowly avoided bumping into him and causing an awful domino effect. It felt like forever since he last looked at you this way: like you were the only person in the room.

"Ah, Doctora y/n, glad Andreas was able to coordinate with you. Sir, she's with us." Xavi's word was law, as usual, and you were allowed to pass through with the rest of the group, ushered to a more private area of the terminal, the screams of fans echoing behind you.

Pablo watched as you stood alongside the coach, chattering away about God knows what. Eric and Pedri were beside him, making conversation about the new additions introduced in the FIFA update.

"Did you know she was going to be here?" Gavi asked, interrupting Pedri's rant about how expensive different skins and expansions were. He had been desperate to see you, thinking of all the ways he might reconcile once he saw you again. But not now. He wasn't ready to face you - not ready to be told 'no' again. For the first time in years, a cold vein of fear ran through him. Was this it? Were you handing in your resignation, coming to Spain only to collect your things before moving to the gray fogginess of the Premier League?

"Yeah. We had a little chat earlier." Say what you want about the IQ of footballers, but Pedri was incredibly intelligent. He himself had given up a career in medicine to explore football greatness. This meant he was smart enough to have deleted the messages that he sent from Pablo's phone before he did his 78th re-read of all your text messages. He was also smart enough to figure out that Gavi had wanted you practically since he laid eyes on you. Contrary to what many may think, Gavi didn't really look at girls. He was usually absorbed in conversation with a friend, whether in person or virtually, and was not prone to looking at every pretty girl that crossed his path. He was hard to please and even harder to impress. So when he started seeking you out more often, mentioning you during random drives, he knew that Pablito was infatuated.

It was several months, however, before Pedri realized the extent of Pablo's affection towards you. It had been during the international break, when Pedri sat and played FIFA with Nico, the only worthy opponent among La Roja. Pablo was half watching the game, half staring at the illuminated screen when he stood suddenly. Pedri watched from the corner of his eye as Gavi stepped out onto the balcony in shorts and his training shirt in the bitter chill of December. When the match had ended (3-1 to him of course), he followed the younger outside, and found him with his phone pointed towards the horizon. The sun in its retirement had painted the sky the most vibrant shades of oranges and pinks, bleeding into a royal purple. The hazy, circular glow kept the sky warm, and the colors stretched out over the wide expanse of the city, painting everything in the golden light of dusk. That's when Pedri heard the shutter click.

"Since when do you take pictures of the sunset?" He was teasing again. It was always fun to rile up his fiery teammate.

"I'm sending them to the doctora. It's so pretty, I want her to see it."

"Isn't she in Barcelona right now? She's probably looking at the same sunset."

"But it's just so beautiful from this high up." Gavi said, eyes still transfixed on his phone as he searched for the most worthy flick to send you. "I just want to send her something beautiful. I want to send her every beautiful thing in the world."

Yes, Pedri was a smart man. Smart enough to see that Pablo's feelings to you were stronger than he had ever experienced for another. Probably the strongest he had ever experienced at all. He was smart enough to approach Alejandro and Ansu, while Gavi chewed on his lip at the prospect of speaking to you, to organize the seating during the flight home.

~

"Don't get too comfortable, Doctora. You'll be joining me upfront for a chat after takeoff." You laughed politely at Xavi as he boarded the plane. You gathered your things, acutely aware of Ferran's gaze on you while you bent over.

"Have a good time at Chelsea? Try and ruin any lives while there?" He asked, voice laced with annoyance. HR had approached him about your complaint, informing him that they would be asking other players and staff about comments made at your expense. While he could keep his friends quiet, he had done too much to piss off Gavi, leaving him vulnerable to everyone in his camp. His only hope was to get you to leave before the investigation had concluded.

"I would prefer we didn't speak about non-professional matters. Thank you, Ferran." You said, smiling so sweetly he felt his teeth throb. You boarded the plane last with the rest of the staff, Luca rushing past you like he would be left behind if he wasn't seated soon. Glancing down at your ticket, you read out your seat number. Row 6, seat G. Walking onto the aircraft, you were stunned by the beauty of the first class cabin. It was furnished completely with plush leather, with every two or three seats getting their own dividers from the rest of the passengers. You walked to row 6, and made your way across the aisle to the right side of the plane where your seat was meant to be. In row 6, seat F, sat Pablo. He looked up at the aisle at the sound of shuffling, and the two of you just stared at one another, wordlessly communicating a shared hurt. All you wanted was to pull him in and say how sorry you were. You just didn't know if he'd be ready to accept.

"Um, I think I'm in the seat next to you." You told him sheepishly. He moved from his place, allowing you to sit next to him by the window.

"I thought the staff usually sits together." He said, trying to prevent it from sounding like a complaint, because it truly wasn't. He wondered what force of fate had allowed your seat to be placed next to his. Little did he know that fate was from the Canary Islands. You sat next to him, adjusting your seat and the belt, before bouncing your leg nervously. The speed increased when you felt the vibration of the engine, watching the plane move from its parked space onto the runway. You wanted to say something - anything - but your throat was dry and the words failed you. You didn't know what to say to ensure that you would be forgiven. That was probably the scariest part: knowing that the forgiveness may never come.

"Are you afraid of flying?"

You turned your head at the question. Gavi's eyes were fixated on your sweatpants-clad thigh as it bounced at incredible speeds. There were many things you were scared of in that moment, but the plane didn't help quell any of them. You were going to be stuck next to Pablo for the next two hours at the least. The anxiety of not knowing how he felt towards you gnawed at your skin, eating you alive. You nodded your head, because in all honesty, it was the same fear, wasn't it? Flying, falling - all terrifying prospects.

Gavi put one airpod in, extending the other to you. It was a peace offering, the olive branch you had waited for. You accepted it graciously, muttering a quiet thank you as you slotted it into place. Your body turned back towards the window, 'Sky full of stars' playing softly in the right half of your brain. As the plane continued to move slowly down the runway, you felt a hand rest atop yours, bringing your bouncing leg to a halt. The skin on skin sent shockwaves through you, electricity running up and down your arm. His hand moved sideways, sliding under yours to lift, and then proceeding to interlock your fingers. The warmth of Pablo's hand, the strength of his grip. The slight squeeze as the plane began picking up speed. Despite lacking the confidence to look at him directly, you peaked at your joined hands. Pablo was here. And through the presses of his fingers and the soothing motion of his thumb, he reminded you that Pablo would always be here, so long as you would have him.

"y/n, Mister Xavi would like to see you now."

You hadn't even realized your hand was still laced with Pablo's until one of the assistant coaches came to collect you. Gavi had drifted off into a light sleep, waking as he felt the cold hit his once warm palm. He grabbed your wrist as you tried to follow the assistant coach.

"Don't leave." He said, voice dry and raspy. You weren't sure if he meant now or the club. You moved your hand to join it with the one on your wrist, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance, as he had done for you.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back."

This was your first time on a plane that had a lounge. The coaching staff was spread across all four sofas, drinking champagne and discussing the efforts from this trip. Xavi sat at a table, an empty seat across from him.

"Doctora, welcome back from Chelsea. Did you enjoy your visit?" He asked, offering your a flute that you politely declined.

"It was wonderful. The staffand players were all great. I'm grateful for the opportunity."

Xavi raised an eyebrow at the diplomatic answer. You were not giving him much of an indication as to your decision. He reached into his bag and extracted a medical file, sliding it over to you.

"As I'm sure you saw on TV and online, Pedri suffered quite a severe injury during the Man U match. Pedri is a key component of our midfield, and Luca has estimated eight to ten weeks for his recovery. I'd like you to take a look at his medical examination report and recommend a course of treatment."

You took the papers in your hand, looking at Xavi cautiously. What was the purpose of this exercise?

"Well, I've already told Pedri that his brace was incorrect, and gave him the specifications for a sleeve to buy once we return home. The eight to ten weeks metric is based on the healing with this immobilization boot. Using the correct compression sleeves and ice, as well as rest, Pedri should be back on in 4 weeks. Five if you want to be safe. That would mean his first appearance back would be the SuperCopa semifinals."

Xavi laughed to himself, collecting the files and returning them to their place. He pulled out another sheet of documents, the words "Adjusted Contract" in bold at the top.

"Doctora y/l/n, it has become increasingly evident as I watch you practice and treat our players that you are a generational talent in sports medicine. You have a deep understanding of the body that few others, both in the club and outside, can fully grasp. At Barca, we strive to do everything in our power to keep generational talents in Camp Nou. I would like you to consider remaining at the club until the summer, when contract renegotiations occur. This would allow you to see out a season that you have contributed so greatly to."

"Why the new contract now then?"

"Just a few clause adjustments. Firstly, we have increased your compensation to absorb your living costs. Those will now be covered by the club. The other change is on this page here. It states that your main focus must be on starters, injured prioritized before healthy. So, if you choose to accept, Pedri would be the top priority as an injured starter. You would dedicate all the necessary time to his treatment."

You scanned the document, and it was just as he said. No other nonsense, just the clauses on compensation and prioritization.

"This is all so flattering sir, but..." Your voice trailed off, shy to speak in front of a legend and the man holding your future in his hands.

"What can we do to make this deal irrefutable?"

"The contract is perfect sir. What I would need is a promise from you. Chelsea's base compensation was higher, but the compensation was based on the number of services the medical staff provides. I could be fired at any moment if not enough players were comfortable being treated by me. I felt, or well rather I didn't feel the sense of loyalty, of family, that I get as Barca. And so I would need a promise from you."

"Name your demand."

"When the summer comes and my contract needs to be renegotiated, keep me on the team. Don't try and pawn me off to someone else. This is my team, my club, my family. So you have to promise me that I have a future here, or else I'll save the heartbreak and leave now."

Xavi placed a pen on the table, bringing his chair forward to be as close as possible to you. "Doctora, you are an incredible and frankly priceless asset to us. We were able to hand select you from the best of the best new physios in Spain. Our successes, any trophies and titles, we owe them in part to you. Help me finish the season with a strong and healthy squad, and I swear to you on my life that you will have a place at Barca until the day you die." He stretched out his hand, and you took a deep breath, meeting the shake midway. It felt weird, signing your contract again, but for more money. You definitely didn't expect to be in this position before you've even graduated, but it brought a pride to your soul. Xavi saw something in you. A generational talent. Somebody believed in what you could do.

You returned to your seat and found that it was Gavi's turn to bounce his leg. You sat down, and he followed you with his eyes. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

"Did you enjoy your trip?"

"Very much so. I got to meet Joao Felix."

Gavi's face turned to you, catching the beaming smile that broke out across your face.

"Yeah? You like him in person, or was he a disappointment?"

"He was less... dreamy than I had anticipated. But still sweet nonetheless. It was a cool experience."

Gavi responded with a hum, turning his music back on and looking away from you. His other airpod sat on the tray table, right where you left it.

"Pablo," it was your turn to rest a hand on his bouncing leg, "we have to talk."

Pablo turned to you, eyes sad and lip between his teeth. "Do we? I feel like you've said everything there is to say." He knew he was being difficult. He knew he was being petty. But Pablo could not let himself get hurt again, especially not in front of the entire team. If he was going to mourn your departure, it was going to be in the comfort of his own guest bed, the one piece of furniture he could sleep on for 7 continuous hours because it held no memories of you. It was your turn to find his fingers and slot them between your own.

"I didn't mean it. Any of it. I have so many reasons why I didn't mention meeting you, Pablo, but I'm just not brave enough to tell you yet. It wasn't because it wasn't important. It could never be. You are one of the most important people in my life. You're one of the only people I have left. Please don't push me away."

His eyes met yours, and he knew there was no way he could remain angry. It was you, after all. The person that made Pablo believe in the possibility of a soulmate. The one that Gavi thought of whenever songs about incredible love came up on his playlist. You were it. He gripped your hand tighter.

"Going to be hard to support you from several countries away, but I will try my best."

"You don't have to. I'm staying."

Gavi's eyes widened, face lighting up like a kid who had just been gifted an entire candy store. "You're staying?"

"Mhm. Barca is my home. My family. No matter how bad it gets, I could never leave this place behind." It felt as though you spoke those words right into his soul, breathing life back into his very being. You were staying. Your voice, your laugh, your energy - all of it would be at Camp Nou, waiting on the sidelines as he fought tooth and nail to capture your attention. "And plus, Pedri and Xavi basically begged me to come back so Luca doesn't have to treat him."

Gavi let a laugh fill his lungs and spill from his throat, maybe a little louder than necessary on a midnight flight. But he was feeling genuine joy course through his veins. He was a man on death row with a second chance at life. He removed his hand from your grip, bringing to above you and resting it across your shoulders. Professionalism be damned. He just wanted to be close to you right now.

"Xavi was more convincing than Joao? I bet that would be a blow to his ego if he found out." It was comfortable, sitting with Pablo in this way. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be this close to him. You pushed up the hand rest so that the two of you could get even closer. Professionalism be damned. They wouldn't fire you while Pedri was still limping.

"Oh yeah. Portugal boy is cute, but Xavi in 2010? That was my first love. I could never refuse a request from him." More giggles from Gavi. You wished you would bottle this moment, eager to make his happiness perpetual. He was human sunshine, and he deserved every light and happy and beautiful moment life could offer.

"The spiky hair? Really?"

"Shut up!" Coupled with a smack to the chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, exhaustion of the day and its stressors finally catching up to you. "Every man looks hotter when carrying a trophy."

Gavi let out a light laugh, turning to hide his blush. Yet another motivation to lift as many cups as possible this season. He offered you his other airpod again, which you accepted, inserting it as a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyelids were heavy, and you were drifting in and out of consciousness.

"One day, we'll need to talk about it properly, you know." Pablo said from above you, voice soft and serious.

You nodded your head, letting out a quiet "Mhm" in a agreement. You knew it was an inevitable conversation. You would have to eventually face the music, let Gavi free himself from whatever feelings were sitting on his chest. But you couldn't do it now. Not with your future up in the air. Not with your feelings for Gavi still a massive tangle of emotions.

"Not tonight." You said to him softly, as he turned his head to meet your eyes.

"No, not tonight."

Your eyes finally closed and you began drifting off. Pablo's arm remained wrapped around you as he leaned in closer, basically cuddling you on this plane. Thank the lord for blessing the engineers with enough foresight to install dividers. As you breathed rhythmically against his chest, he pressed his nose into your hair, breathing deeply. Why was everything about you so intoxicating?

In the haze of your sleep, you heard Pablo speaking to you. You listened intently, hoping to catch these special words that he only released to your sleeping form.

"Doctora, I would wait for you forever. Even when you hit rock bottom, I'll be there, waiting for you with a ladder. You will always have me, no matter what."

~~~~~~~

A/N: Guys I did it!!! My longest part to date! I am so flipping tired. It's 4am. I don't remember a time before I started writing this part. Anyways, we are chugging along y'all! Only two parts left in the main story!! I surpassed my 15k word goal. Maybe next part is 18k? I think the next part is going to be my favorite. I haven't decided if I want the big boom pow event to be in part 9 or 10. We will see. Again, apologies for the long time between updates, but semi-decent writing takes time. As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! If you notice any easter eggs/ small details, feel free to point them out!!! There are so many and I love when y'all get them. IDK when part 9 is coming out but when it's done y'all will be the first to know. Ok love y'all byeeeee.

Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye

*~*Taglist*~*

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[petterwass]

Ho'olheyak really is quite the tragic figure once you read her file, isn't she?

For all her being very funny and her inexhaustible Bug Bunny energy, she really has been through so much, forced into a generations-long project that she never asked for, as a mere infant.

Is a small baby she was subjected to some sort of horrible brain surgery that forced the entirety of her species history into her brain and drastically cut down her lifespan, which is implied to be both very traumatic (only a infant could possibly survive it because once a child is old enough to have a sence of "self" it would have been completely obliterated along with their mind) and with incredibly high mortality (As Warfarin puts it: "I don't want to ask her how, many siblings she *had*).

All to force her to continue her family's generations-long project to restore the bloodline powers of the ancient ku'kul'kan.

While she maintains that the brain surgery does not in any force her to do this, she could if she wanted to, drop the entire thing. But I wonder how true that is.

After all, the sunk cost fallacy is real, and once you've already paid with half of your life, what choice is there really but to continue the work? To to otherwise would be to say that the price you paid was not worth it. That the price your mother paid, and her mother before her, going back hundreds if not thousands of years, was not worth it. That the goal they worked towards is not worth trying to achieve. That the sacrifice that was forced upon you has no meaning.

Which child, implanted with scenes of your people's lost grandeur and raised from birth for this single mission, could really say that they are doing it of their own free will? That they had a choice, when they were selected to pay the price for it even before they were born?

One wonders also, how this has created the Ho'olheyak we know. How different would she be if she did not have her people's history rattling around in her brain since before she could talk?

It also explains in a way, her wanting up always work alone. After all, who else could understand the importance of her mission, how everything and everyone can be sacrificed on its altar if need be, than the one who has already paid the highest price for it, and who can literally feel the wingsbeats of ancient ku'kul'kan in her mind? Who else could ever understand.

And that's not getting into her equipment, how each part of the gear she carries is intended to mimic a trait of the mythical Ku'kul'kan, how this burden she carries is literally too heavy to bear without using her arts to lighten it (her exoskeleton alone weighs over 90 kilograms. Without using her arts to lighten it, she would not be able to move). How perhaps the burden of reviving a extinct bloodline would be too much to bear for any human, except perhaps, one created for that express purpose with Arts and brain surgery, to be the perfect, or indeed, the only possible banner-bearer that could endure the weight of generations of sacrifice towards a single cause? Maybe I'm reading up much into it but the parallels are there.

And in the end, soon enough, as her drastically shortened lifespan runs out. She will breed, likely several times to endure she has backup infants (and isn't that a cold-blooded thought? "the first one might not survive, better make more") . And she will subject her infants to the same horribly invasive and lethal brain surgery as was done to her. Until one of them survives. And that one will carry on the project. That one surviving baby will bear the torch. Will burn their life from both ends.

Of her own free will.

You can probably draw a lot of interesting parallels here. Both to the greatness of multi-generational work: "I plant a tree so my grandchildren can sit in the shade", but also to continuing cycles of abuse: "This, was done to me. I will do it to my children in turn. And they to their children. And the one that survived will carry on the torch."

I don't know. I just think she's incredibly fascinating and interesting once you get beyond the first, obvious outer layer of Sexy Fucked Up Evil Snake Woman.

There's really a lot there. And I love her. She is so very much more fucked up than you initially think she is.

[luniidae]

~ As Red as Blood ~

Chapter IX

Note: Hi everyone! I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter ✨ I'm always "scared" of making mistakes since I used to write a lot, a long time, and late at night 😂

____________________________________

Luvia still couldn't get out of her room. Most of the time, she lay on her bed, staring blanky, her eyes redden by tears. A lot had happened in a very short time, starting with her physical transformation. She hadn't had time to get used to her new body when someone had already "appropriated" it, in the worst possible way, making her feel like it didn't really belong to her...

She had woken up in her bed, not remembering how she had gotten back to her room. On the other hand, she had certainly not forgotten what Haarlep had done to her the day before. Her body hurt, some places more than others... And there were so many things that she couldn't forget and that played over and over in her head. Like the way they stared at her the whole time, satisfied with the effect they had on her, or how their hands had touched her, scratched her, damaged her to make her feel like nothing more than an object. But what disturbed her even more was how she had felt. If Luvia felt some self-loathing, it was largely due to the fact that she knew nothing about the powers of an incubus. For her, everything she had felt was true, authentic, and the simple idea that she was able to appreciate every second spent in their clutches was enough to make her nauseous. Tears came to her eyes each time, ashamed of not having been able to resist them, betrayed by her own body.

Korilla visited her every day to check if she was alright, she even tried to talk to her, but the young woman did not respond. Luvia didn't want to hear her own voice which was now slightly different, it would have been like acknowledging that everything that had happened so far was real. And she couldn't bear that.

For his part, Raphael still couldn't bring himself to go talk to her. He felt he didn't "need" to do it, and what could he say to her anyway? That he regretted his action? He wasn't sure about this... And even if he did, it wouldn't erase anything that had been done and Luvia would still be hurt no matter what. However, an idea came to him, something that would allow him to establish contact with the young woman without her needing to respond: what about a dress ? The one the Dracanist wore before her transformation was now unwearable, and while it might seem trivial at first, he figured that sending her a new one would be a good way to let her know that he cared about her, in his own way. But this time, he would not use his powers as had been the case until now. No, this time he would call on some sort of “hellish tailors” to have the perfect dress made.

“As dark as the ocean, and as red as blood,” he told them. He also provided them with other details, particularly regarding the materials to be used. Velvet, taffeta, satin... Raphael was a very demanding kind of person and the infernal tailors had to try several times before giving him complete satisfaction.

The next morning, as Luvia gradually emerged from her torpor, she saw a box placed on her dresser. The young woman stood up with difficulty and walked forward slowly, intrigued by this new object. It was a rectangular box, quite flat, a deep red and decorated with a golden ribbon. She opened it, and first discovered a cherry scented card on which a few words were carefully written

"A gift for my little mouse"

Little mouse.... Luvia grimaced. This nickname had a bitter taste since Haarlep had used it too. She put the card down and carefully unwrapped the contents of the box, it was a dress. The fabric was soft and the various seams and embroideries gave a pleasant relief to the touch. She took the dress out of its box and held it in front of her as she looked in the mirror. She gently waved the petticoat to see it better, it was truly a beautiful piece of art. That said, she suddenly felt uncomfortable looking at her own reflection, so she decided to cover the mirror and put the dress back in its box. This strange and unpleasant feeling of not being right in this  body. And when it became too much to bear, Luvia sometimes ended up hurting herself. Her nails were short but sharp, like little claws, and it was not difficult for her to cut her own flesh. Faster, stronger, as if she was absolutely trying to get rid of this new envelope that had already been so bruised.

But as a Dracanist, her regenerative abilities (provided by her horns) made it impossible for her to actually harm herself. No matter how hard she tried, the wounds closed almost immediately. Furthermore, her blood was not flowing normally.

Indeed, the deepest wounds let out some sort of reddish gleams which rose around her before vanishing: blood magic. It was apparently a power unique to her species, but she only knew the theoretical part of it. She couldn't handle the view of her body... A body she considered soiled. No matter how many baths she could take, she still felt like Haarlep was upon her anytime.

It had been three days now since Raphael had sent the dress to Luvia, but the little mouse apparently still hadn't decided to point the tip of her snout. But according to Korilla, she had since started eating again, although it was in small quantities. However, the devil wanted to try a new approach, despite his patience slowly reaching its limits. He decided to have another present made for her, something more meaningful than a dress, more... Personal, and this time, he would bring it to her himself. It had taken a few days to complete, given the meticulous nature of the thing, but he was sure it would elicit a reaction. Raphael didn't imagine having to visit Luvia. The idea had been suggested to him by Korilla some time ago but he had rejected it outright, believing that he didn't have to take the first step and that, in any case, Luvia would eventually come back to him. But that's not what happened, and the cambion was starting to lose patience. This turnaround was only intended to push the young woman to trust him again, or at least that's what he liked to think. In fact, he missed her, in a way. It must be said that Luvia had almost always lived in the House of Hope, and that she and Raphael were used to seeing and interact with each other every day. Exceptionally, Raphael took his human form for this occasion. He remembered Haarlep's satisfied look when they reminded him that it was with his appearance they had tormented her, so he felt that his demonic form wouldn't make a good impression on the young woman.

One day, he came knocking on her door.

“I would have expected a better welcome,” he said calmly since he got no answer.

Suddenly, he heard quick footsteps coming and the door finally opened. Luvia was standing before him, she looked exhausted and emotionless, her red eyes locked on him.

"Greetings, little mouse"

The young woman sadly frowned, it seemed a bit painful to hear this.

"Greetings fa-", she grimaced, "..... Raphael...", she answered with a hint of hesitation, a sad but resigned look on her face.

"It's been a while since we last saw you, and I must admit that the atmosphere in my House of Hope has deteriorated significantly, especially since you decided to confine yourself to one and same room", he paused a few seconds,"So I brought a little something that could, let's say, "help" you in a way...." The cambion handed her a box. It wasn't as large as the dress's one, but it was finely decorated. She took it with slowly and opened it, wondering what it could be and how it could help her. Did he really think he could fix everything with - ... What was that ? There were two golden rings, but they were.... Opened ? And too big for a hand.

Luvia looked up Raphael, intrigued, raising an eyebrow. She didn't understand what she was seeing. The devil chuckled before her confusion.

"It is made of infernal iron, for the most part... Impregnate with a powerful regenerative and conservative magic. Very... Protective, I must say. I had them made especially for you. For your horns".

"I am not sure to understand", she admitted.

"As long as you'll be wearing them, it will help your horns to regrow and they will remain intact and strong. No one will ever be able to do any harm to them, not even me", he said, placing a hand on his chest. 

"So.... Does it mean.... ?", Luvia didn't dare to ask, scared to misunderstand.

"You horns are all yours, forever", he nodded.

If the young woman had expressed little emotion until now, her eyes widened in shock. What Luvia had endured so far was now behind her ? Really ? No one would have to mutilate her ever again ? As she gently closed the box so as not to drop its contents, and as she realized what it meant, her eyes filled with tears and she felt her hands and her legs trembling.

She couldn't speak, so without a word, she threw herself at Raphael, clinging tightly to him as if she feared he would disappear at any second. She burst into tears, releasing everything she had kept for herself for years, all the pain, all the times she would have wanted to be held by him to comfort her, to make her feel safe, loved, to show her she mattered... And all the times she felt so lonely. Her nails digged into his back, but the devil didn't mind. He didn't expect such an emotional reaction but, to be honest, he didn't really know what he was expecting anyway. It was strange to have her so close to him, he could feel her heart beating fast through her ribcage and she didn't seem in the mood to release her grip now. Raphael wasn't sure of what he should do next, but he kind of enjoyed their proximity. He eventually wrapped his arms around her, uncertain, holding her against him while she was still crying.

"I... I am sorry....", she managed to say between a few sobs.

The cambion raised an eyebrow "Sorry ? About what ?"

"I'm crying on your doublet", she answered.

Raphael giggled nervously, "Oh little Mouse...", he said, putting a hand behind her head to stroke her hair until she finally calmed herself down... "Would you join me later for the dinner ? You must be starving after all these days...", he proposed softly.

The young woman kept holding him tight and simply nodded against him. She looked like a woman but in the end, she was still a young girl, still craving for attention and love. She needed him, and no matter how much she had been hurt by his words, and by the fact he abandoned her in the Boudoir, she couldnt help herself but love him. She didn't know why but that was how she felt. Her grip softened and Raphael caught her shoulders to make her move back and look at her, swiping away a few tears of her cheeks.

"Oh look at you...", he cupped her face in his hands, "Don't waste this pretty face of yours with those tears, shall you ?"

She nodded shyly.

"Perfect, little Mouse"

"Can i ask you something?", she managed to say.

"Anything, my dear", he listened carefully.

"Could you.... Stop calling me this ? Please", she asked, avoiding his gaze.

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her demande but he accepted it.

"As you wish... Luvia", he paused for a few seconds before adding, "Would you like me to use another name, perhaps... ?"

"I don't know", she admitted, "It's just.... I don't want to be a mouse anymore..."

"Alright then"

His serious gaze softened, "Anyway, I'll be waiting for you to dinner later. I hope to see you there" He smiled at her but she couldn't know if he was sincere or not.

Once he was gone, she felt.... Empty. That was a very strange feeling. These few moments spent with him felt like a peaceful bubble in the spikes of her sorrow.

By the way, she examined the objects he gave to her earlier and took one of the rings out of its box. It was made of iron but it felt incredibly light, it has a golden color and was decorated by carved infernal winged creature, but among them, there was a smallest one... A little mouse.

Of course there was...

The view of this gave her a unpleasant sensation and a comforting feeling at the same time. She'll always be his little mouse.... But she decided to not pay attention to this detail. She placed herself in front of her mirror to uncovered it and took a deep breath seeing her own face. She brought an open ring to one of her horns, the longer one. Once the jewelry was close enough, it instinctively wrapped itself around it. It was strange to see a solid object moving with such flexibility, but the sensation was surprisingly agreeable.... It almost felt like a tender embrace, warm and comforting, it almost brought new tears to her already watery eyes. She found it hard to fully realize that her horns would never be mistreated again, and deep down she hoped that her whole being would never be again as well. She took a moment to admire herself once the two rings were on her head. 

Meanwhile, in the corridors, Raphael was walking confidently, satisfied of the effect his present had on Luvia. He was determined to have her back, since he needed her powers, but he was also feeling "relieved". He met Korilla.

She looked at him, knowing where he was coming from and noticing his smug look.

"Is everything fine, Master ?", she dared to ask.

"We will see her today", he answered as he kept walking.  

The dwarf couldn't help herself but slightly smiled, relieved but intrigued by her boss's methods. 

Later this day, at dinner time, the large table was full of various and appealing dishes, and the scent of this was positively divine. It would have been hard to resist such a feast...

As stealthy and silent as a shadow, Luvia appeared at the entrance of the room. Her lips were tinted of a dark cherry color, just as her eyes, her gaze accentuated by a black trait at the end of her eyes. She was wearing the golden rings around her horns and these looked far more healthy already. But she was also wearing her new dress.... As dark as the ocean and as red as blood.

Raphael, who was already here, tilted his head to observe her coming, an astonished look on his face.

"Who is this beautiful creature who honor us with her presence", he said warmly, "My dear, you look perfect. I always knew the velvet would suit you"

Luvia wasn't expecting such reaction. Actually, she couldn't understand being seen as "beautiful", or "perfect", or anything such. The pale skin of her face slightly pinked at this compliment, making the devil smirk. She finally took place at the table, at her usual place. She had spent so much time in her bedroom that this place looked almost unfamiliar to her now.  

"Enjoy, my sweet"

During dinner, the cambion couldn't help but scrutinize the young woman from time to time out of the corner of his eye. Although she was the same, he felt like there was another person in front of him, one who had nothing to do with the crying, miserable girl he had seen earlier in the day. Luvia had a confident, almost playful look, but a hint of sadness in her eyes betrayed her. Raphael was almost impressed by how easily she concealed her emotions.

However, a spark of determination suddenly crossed her eyes, and she began to stare at the devil. She seemed to have something to ask...

"Hm? Is something troubling you, my dear?", he raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"It's about blood magic, I'd like to learn more about it, and I'm not talking about the theory", there was no hesitation in her voice, as if she expected no less from him that he accepts.

"Hm, that's a subject we weren't supposed to study this early....", he replied seriously, resting his chin on one of his hands.

"I thought we could speed things up, since I don't have to 'pretend' to be an adult anymore... As you said", she answered.

Raphael gave her a smile, he remembered these words well, "you won't have to pretend any longer", that's what he had told her before leaving her in the Boudoir.

"Very well, little one, if that's really what you want.... We'll start your practical training tomorrow then. But for now, let's just enjoy the evening, would you ?"

Luvia nodded and did her best to not let it show anything, but there was a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. She couldn't wait to show him she was more than just a little mouse..

To be continued...

Bonus:

[georgiapeach30513]

The Flowers of Waverley Road, Part 1

Summary:  Magnus Romano is a fierce leader of the biggest Mafia family in Boston.  And deep outside of the negotiating and the city he has remained to keep his daughters hidden.  But continues to use them as a bargaining agent.  Each daughter has their own journey and story.  Each daughter has their own tests and heartbreak.  And each daughter is fiercely loyal to each other.  His pretty little flowers.  His major point of bribery.  But they’re not as delicate as Magnus thinks that they are, or as stupid.

Pairings:  August Walker X Orchid, Nick Fowler X Lotus, Jax Teller X Dahlia, Jack Bass X Violet, Ari Levinson X Lavender

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, masturbating (F), arranged marriages, misogyny, age gap, power imbalance, implied abuse, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  8k

Universe Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“Mr. Levinson?” Ari looks up from his magazine he had just been staring at, annoyed at all the clearance that was necessary for this job.  It was a house completely out in the middle of nowhere.  A house so far off the beaten path, one would assume they were in an endless loop of trees.  “Miss Romano will now see you.  Should you be hired, make sure you wear different shoes.”

Ari glances at his old worn boots; a bit dusty, stained in paint, and sure a bit dirty.  He didn’t ask to come to this ridiculously white office.  Why was everything so white?  Not even a fingerprint in sight.  Possibly the rumors of burned off fingerprints was factual.

His heavy footfalls carry him into Miss Romano’s office, and she looks up from her computer glaring at him.  “I didn’t ask to come here, sweetheart,” Ari smirks, planting himself on a white coach, and she grimaces at him.  Even she is decked out in white.  Head to toe.  White business dress that clings to every inch of her curves.  Some things never changed.  She hadn’t aged a day.

“Mr. Levinson, we take people going to Waverley Road very seriously,” her long manicured fingers tap on the desk, and she slides her chair back.  Walking in front of the desk to lean against the edge.  His eyes roam up and down every inch of her, “And we take people abusing the ability to get onto the property very seriously.  You understand what you are signing on for?  People not directly involved in my family’s business rarely ever make it this far.”

“Family business, huh?  Is that what they’re calling the mafia these days?”

“I’m not quite sure I follow, Mr. Levinson,” Ari nods his head, even though he is aware that she knows exactly what he’s referring to.  “A background check was done on you.  A lot of petty crime.  You will not be permitted inside of the house.”

“Why?  Do you have a princess locked up in that tower?” The woman stands unmoving.  They did.  They had some princess locked in there all alone in the middle of nowhere, “Just how many flowers of Waverley Road are there?  I lost count.”

“Mr. Levinson.”

“Rumors of the Romano flowers are all throughout the city.  None as beautiful as you, Miss Lotus Romano.  Unwed because she’s unfit, and can’t be used as a bargaining tool.  Magnus knows her worth, and wants to keep his pretty little daughter happy.  Which one finally was sold to the highest bid of Jack Bass?  Which one gets to be bought by Bart Bass?  The Romanos are in the Basses pocket, and everyone knows it.  Can’t forget your little delinquent of a sister.  Has she ever been found?”

“Are you finished, Mr. Levinson.  Insulting my family is not a great way to get a job.  I am the one allowing you into our family mansion.  I am the one that will either give you this job, or take it away from you.  Do not question my authority in my family,” Ari’s eyes slowly blink close as he tilts his head to her.  Leaning back and getting more relaxed in his chair.

“The last interview I had there was only three files on your secretary’s desk.  You don’t have too many people vying for a chance to work for your family.  I believe I’m all that you’ve got.  You don’t have a choice.  My work is good and clean.  And I come with great references.  Where is Nicky?  Getting his cock sucked by some bimbo?”

“Now that is enough,” she slaps her hand on the desk, turning her back to Ari.  He could speak all he wanted to about her family, but bring up Nick, and she shuts down, and shows emotion.  She calmly picks up her phone, ringing her secretary, “Cici, have Nick escort Mr. Levinson to Waverley Road.  If he’s to have anyone working with them, they have to be cleared with me, and he’s only allowed one person.”

“Uh, Frank Adler?” Ari clears his throat, because a request for some help had already been sent in.  If it hadn’t made it to Lotus, there was no telling when Frank would be approved.

“His file is being processed.  That may take a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks?  How the fuck am I going to get any work done?”

“Figure it out,” Lotus gently lays her phone back on the receiver.  Walking around to her chair, and ignoring Ari, “You may go.  Nick will make sure you make it to Waverley Road in one piece.  And if Mr. Adler should be cleared, he will join you.  There is a small house in front of the mansion, you can stay there, Frank as well, should he be approved.  Make sure that you have your bags packed.  You’re going to be stuck on Waverley Road until all the repairs are finished.  Should you need something, Nick can be of assistance.  Should you want to leave, don’t.  We own you now, Mr. Levinson.”

Bitch.  Ari stands, and walks back out to the foyer, waiting on his former roommate.  Lotus really was the cold bitch that everyone claimed that she was.  Heart of stone, and no fucks given, but she had a weakness.  This is what Ari wanted and needed.  And he had completed this part.  Now onto the mansion.

Nick looks at himself in the mirror, straightening out his hair when he looks at his phone, “Hey, sweetheart.”

“I asked you not to call me that while in this building.  Mr. Levinson was approved.  You need to take him to Daddy’s summer mansion.”

“Isn’t your baby sister there?” Nick did not foresee the luck of having the most awkward and needy of the sisters at the mansion.  A girl that would open up to anyone that was giving her attention.

“And that’s where she will stay, until Daddy decides what he’s going to do with her.  There are a few that she has caught the eye of.  Don’t know if they are profitable though.”

“You know casually talking about your sisters being in an arranged marriage is a little concerning.  Should I be alarmed?” His eyebrow cocks up as he shuts down his office.

“I’ve got the files, Nicky.  No one has ever asked for my hand in marriage, and Daddy has never offered.  I supposed I’m going to remain an old spinster that is too smart for this whole operation.”

“Would you take marrying someone you’re in business with?  Like, I don’t know, the man that has no one above him in this family, but your father?” He would continue to ask any chance he got, until she said yes.

“You forget, this is only business.  Don’t confuse casual sex with anything more than a fix.  Take Mr. Levinson to Waverley Road.”

“Make sure you’re waiting at my house, in one of the pretty little lace numbers I got you.  I’ll take your Mr. Levinson to the mansion, and explain the ground rules.  I’ll see you when I return,” he doesn’t wait for a response.  He never does.  And she is always waiting for him.  Every time.  Giving him so much, and so little all at the same time.  It was infuriating that the one thing he wanted, she was still keeping guarded.  Her heart.

He struts out into the waiting room, snapping a finger towards Ari, “Follow me.  You sure know how to piss people off, you know that?”

“Well, what’s the fun in knowing I got the job if I can’t play around a bit?  So Lotus Romano?”

“What?” Nick stops to turn around and look at the man.  Ari is a beast.  Taller than most men he had ever seen, and wide.  His skills we’re definitely better suited in other avenues besides a carpenter.  

“Who is at this mansion?” Ari gives his old friend a wink.  Nick was not someone he wanted to piss off.  He needed Nick, and clearly he and Lotus did not want to joke about their ‘relationship’.

“It’s best if you leave that one alone,” Nick responds, spinning on his heels and continues to the parking garage.

“Why is that?” Dig a bit more.  It was what Ari is good at.  Get more information, and if she was as pretty as her sisters, how bad could it be?

“She’s barely legal.”

“Ahh, but she is legal.  Is she promised to someone?  Chuck Bass maybe?  Would he finally sell one of his daughters to a more age appropriate man?  How is Jack’s new bride?” Nick grunts out his own frustrations.  Magnus was living in the dark ages.  “He had all those girls for more than having children, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk about them.  They have very little say in what he’s doing.  Lavender will fall in line like her sisters before her.”

“Worked out well for Dahlia,” Ari surmises, settling himself in Nick’s car.  “How is she?”

“Teller keeps her busy.  She got what she wanted.  Away from the Basses, and away from her father.”

“And why do you suppose that is?” Nick keeps his eyes on the road.  As long as Ari didn’t bring up Lotus, he was okay.  No one ever got away with speaking about her.  “So, Jack’s bride complied, and the Basses still funded Magnus’ dying empire.  He’s nothing without the Basses.  He basically became a tool for them.  They’ll continue to use him to get what they want, and when they’re done, well, you know what will become of Magnus and his daughters.”

“And what exactly are you going to do about it?” Nick turns to glare at Ari.  A man that talked a big game about something he was not technically a part of.  It was complicated.

“Nothing.  I’m just a carpenter.  Being forced to live out in the middle of nowhere, I can't leave my base until the repairs are done.  Out there all alone with nothing to keep me busy but a barely legal flower.”

“Going inside of the house is unwise.  You are to stay outside,” another warning of staying outside, and not entering the house.

“Why?  Is there something wrong with Rapunzel?”

“She is to be kept chaste,” Ari snorts.  They were never really chaste.  None of them.  People talk.  Little girls locked up in towers always had their vices.  Their way with men and women to get what they wanted.  More so of what they needed.  “Bart isn’t interested.  However, there are others that are looking at Lavender.  The flowers of Waverley Road are now a legend.”

“What about Lotus,” Nick warps the car over to the side of the road, and wraps his hand over Ari’s throat.  “Easy.  We’re on the same side.”

“You do not deserve to speak her name,” Nick spits out at him.  That was his first strike.

“What happens when she’s sold to the highest bidder?  Dahlia was smart, she got out while she could.  Leaving her sister to be claimed and promised to Jack.  Lotus isn’t promised to anyone.  Do you think that will last?  Do you think her father won’t sell her?”

“She’s valuable on her own.  Magnus needs her, and her brains.”

“And her sisters are nothing but the flesh in between their legs?  I see.  Things worked out well for Orchid,” the oldest of the sisters.  The one who stood tall and proud.  Walked side by side with her husband.  A man that would kiss the ground she walked on, if she asked.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nick huffs, putting the car back into gear.  Turning onto the famed road, and the long journey to the mansion.  No one ever knew or understood the Romano family.  Even Nick, despite Lotus randomly dropping tidbits.

“Do I not?  I’m risking my life being here.”

“No one asked you to,” Nick whispers.  It was a lie.  One that they were both aware of.  Ari was asked.  And it was worth the risk, should he be successful.  

Trees are so heavy down this road a lesser man would feel as if he was losing his mind.  There was nowhere to go but forward, or back from which you came.  No one dared to come out this far, and judging by the security stations on the way in, they would never make it to the point that they currently are.  Guarded by more than the maddening forest.

It was boring.  No wonder he was being asked to live on the property.  “How much land does Magnus own?”

“All of it,” Nick answers with finality.  Ari had pissed him off.  Nick was easy to talk to, until you made him get into his head about Lotus.  “You are not to go into the mansion.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“There’s your quarters,” Nick points at a small cabin, not at all grand.  “It’s big enough to sleep at least four people.  You will be given a car that you can commute from here to the mansion.  You are not to step foot inside.  Lavender can be a bit persuasive, you are not to listen to her under any circumstance.  However, should her life be in danger, you risk yours to save her.  That is how it goes.  You wanted to be surrounded by the flowers.  You are.  And this…”

A gigantic mansion comes into view.  An otherworldly and old look to it with ivy growing up the sides.  It looks haunted.  Should anyone happen to unluckily stumble upon it, it would terrify them.  And right by the pool was a gorgeous and completely nude young woman sunbathing.

“My god,” Nick, irritated puts his car into park.  “She was told you were coming today.  Cover your eyes,” Ari would not.  Perfect tits on that one.  She was hot, and she knew it.  Fresh Brazilian wax.  She wanted to be seen.  “Lavender!  Put some fucking clothes on.”

Her mouth turns up into a smirk, but she doesn’t move, “If I am to live out here all alone, I’m going to take advantage of the privacy.”

“And I told you,” she stands up, and Ari gets a full body look at her, turning back around to awkwardly bend over to gather her hat.  Awkward because she wanted Ari to see her puffy, velvety, and scrumptious cunt.  “Lavender!”

“Aw, Nicky, don’t look as I walk away,” Nick turns away from her, and grabbing both tits, she jiggles them just for Ari to see.  Ari would not be staying away from her.  She wanted to show him her body, and he was going to look.  “I’m going inside to fuck myself.”

“I hate you.  How am I ever going to tell your sister about this?”

“Just don’t tell her I put a strap on my giant teddy,” Ari likes her.  He was sure she was more talk than anything.  But she needed it.  Bad.  “Daddy has me out here all by myself, I should be able to have some fucking fun!”

“Go fuck your teddy bear then!” Lavender flips his back off before finally walking into the house.  She wasn’t entirely lying, and wasn’t entirely telling the truth.  Fixing the roof she was told.  She was aware of the area where the roof leaked.  And she had a plan.  If she was going to be out here bored while all her sisters got to have a man touch them, she was going to have some fun.  With the carpenters.

“Ignore her.”

“How can I?  My god, she either needs someone to lay her over their lap and spank her ass, or she needs a real good fucking,” he tilts his head, trying to continue to look at her.  Still she was shaking her tits at him.  Pinching her nipples, before walking away.

“She’s a liar.  All she wants is attention, and you’re giving it to her,” Nick slaps Ari in the back of his head.  Ari and her could potentially be a problem, or the best thing they didn’t plan on, “Your boxes will be coming here by tonight.  This is the key to your car.  There is the garage.  I’ll have Lotus message you the key codes for everything.  And stay out of the fucking house.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ari groans, getting out of the car.  “This my supplies?” He asks, pointing over to a mountain of lumber and boxes upon boxes of things.

“Yes.  Have fun, Ari.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.  Also, Magnus and the other girls will be here tonight for dinner.  Make sure you’re at home.”

“So you’re saying if I want to fuck the princess I better do it before tonight?” He bites at his lip, looking back into the house, hoping to see those perfect tits.

“I’m saying don’t be looking at tits, and have nothing done before they get here,” jumping into his car, Nick drives back into the city, and back to Lotus’ office.  Speaking of fucking, she owed him dessert.  She could continue her work, while he feasted on the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

Ari looks up at the mansion, wondering where Lavender had gone.  He just wanted to have some fun, and enjoy something nice to look at.  Instead he starts opening up a few of the containers.  Sweat pours down his brows as he unloads everything.  Minor repairs, and it would get done faster with a crew.  But Magnus didn’t want a crew here.

Hearing one of the sweetest little moans, he looks towards a window.  There she was.  Still needing to be seen.  Playing with her tits, and grinding on the arm of a couch.  Ari completely knows why Magnus didn’t want a crew.  She is looking straight at him begging, “Ari!” She whines, placing her hands in front of her to grind even faster.

Her tits look even more amazing as she works herself over the furniture.  “Ari, the door is unlocked.”

“Well, hell,” it was an invitation, and who was he to say no.  Walking into the mansion, and breaking the one main rule he has, he follows her desperate sounds.  Tiptoeing into a sitting room,  and there she was.  One of the most amazing women he had ever met.  What a welcome gift he was getting.  “What cha doing?”

“Imagining I was riding you?” She was needy.  Moving over this arm of the couch like her life depended on it.  “You like my titties?”

“Oh I love them.  You making a mess on the couch?”

“Uh huh.  You can lick it up if you want.  You can play with my tits, too.”

“Oh, I think I want you to lick it up,” her eyes go wide as she stares up at him.  Black seas of lust in her eyes, glossy and still so innocent.  He steps closer, reaching out to pinch both of her nipples.  “You never been talked to like that?  If you want to be a desperate little slut, I can treat you like one.”

He rolls her nipples in between his fingers, and she arches her back, bringing herself closer to him.  Moving her hands behind her, Ari sees her pretty puffy lips spread over the leather.  A trail of slick gathering on the arm.  She was a pretty little thing.  “I’m going to suck your tits, okay?”

“Uh huh, please!” He wanted his fingers in her.  His mouth closes around one nipple, and her body loses self control.  Screaming out his name, until he pulls off her with a pop.  Looking at her wide eyed at her outburst.  Her juices drip down onto the couch and floor.

“Did you just squirt from me barely sucking on your nipple?”

“What?” Ari’s hand swipes up her honey, showing her just how soaked his fingers are.  “I uh…”

“Show me your pussy.  I’ll taste that, too.  If you think sucking on your nipples feels amazing.  Sucking on you right here,” his finger touches her clit, and she shivers, mewling out his name, while her body searches for more pressure from him.  “Show me.”

Lavender scoots down onto the couch, legs already spreading wide, and Ari gulps.   She was an easy target, “Tell me, sweetheart,” Ari begins as he gets down to his knees, smiling down at her bare and leaking cunt, “Who visits out here?” His hand lays flat over her mound, and she squeals.  “Uh uh, who visits out here?”

“No — no one.”

“I don’t feel like you’re being truthful.  Big house, sweet little slut like you, all alone with just me.  What would happen if I fucked you right here?”

“No!” She shakes her head no rapidly, and when he tries to remove his hand she slaps her own over his.  “You can play with me.  No sex.”

“We did just meet, hmm?” leaning a bit closer, his hand slides up to spread apart her lips, giving just the most sweet kiss over her bundle of nerves.  “Who comes out here?  Your father?” Peering up at her, his tongue flicks over her little bean, and Lavender struggles to talk.

“Sometimes.  I don’t want to talk about him right now.”

“Who else?” She gives him a little pout, trying to pull him closer to her heat.  Needing nothing more than to have him kitten lick her again.  “No, you tell me who else comes here, and I’ll suck on this clit, until you’re coming in my mouth.  Maybe put a finger in that sweet puss.”

“Bus-bus-business associates.  The Basses, and…some man I don’t know.  Please, Ari, I want you to put a finger in me.”

“Only one for now.  Maybe you can figure out who else is coming here for me, and I’ll give you even more fingers.  I don’t want anyone to walk in on me feasting on your cunt.  Just be a good girl for me, and I’ll make sure to ruin you, okay?”

She nods her head, and Ari dives right in.  Wrapping his lips around her overly sensitive clit, and swiping a finger up and down her slit.  Letting her get good and squirmy until he sinks one finger in.  Her walls immediately start pulsing around him.  She was a responsive little thing.  A perk of the job he supposed.  Get information and get to fuck her.  It wasn’t a bad trade off.

Pumping his finger in and out of her, and her hips start to move with him.  Her hands squeeze on her tits.  Magnus was a fucking idiot.  Leaving this pretty young thing that was begging to be fucked all alone.  And she had a mouth on her.  Willing to say anything as long as she was touched and got off.  

She was ridiculously tight.  Clearly she was pretty inexperienced.  Which made her a danger to herself.  Or maybe she was the perfect daughter to sell to pay for his next business venture.  He was an idiot.  She wouldn’t be inexperienced when Ari finished with her.

“Ar-Ar-Ari!” His arm was dripping in her cream and slick.  Lines of arousal puddles into his hand, and the loudest squelching sounds he had ever heard echo in the empty house.  She is just about gone.  Dumb and pliable.  Just for Ari.  “Ari!” She screams, gushing into his mouth.  “Ari!” Her voice starts to go soft as she pushes him away, “Stop.  Stop, I’m throbbing.”

“Yeah,” he leans back, wiping her honey off his beard.  Keeping her lips spread, “Look at that little clit.  It’s all swollen.  You can see your heartbeat in it.  Did you have fun, Rapunzel?”

“Uh-huh,” she is mesmerized looking down at her little hole.  He had made her feel things that she had never felt before.  They both watch as he drags his finger out of her quivering hole, and he gives it a long stare.  Projecting spit onto her spread cunt before rubbing it in.  Giving her sensitive nub a flick, she trembles.  “Can we do it again?”

“Remember what I said, princess,” Ari slips his soaked up fingers past her lips, and like a good girl, she sucks her juices and his spit off him.  “And I’ll look at and taste that cunt whenever you want me to.  But I hear your family is coming over tonight.  You better clean up your mess.  You’d hate daddy to see what a mess you made.  Maybe next time I’ll let you fuck my fingers.  Just have them there while you and those pretty tits bounce.  Run along.  Don’t wear clothes the next time I see you.”

She sits up, and hungrily kisses on Ari’s mouth.  Tasting her arousal and moaning before she sits back, making her tits jiggle for him before going to get some things to clean up the mess.  She was trouble.  But what a fun trouble she was going to be.

“Daddy!” The oldest of the Walker children runs up to his father.  Jumping into his father’s arms, and August throws him up in the air.  “Daddy, we’re going to the castle when you get dressed.”

“I know, buddy.  You want to pack you and sissy some toys?  I think mama said we’re staying the night.  It’s such a long drive back out to the city,” he sets his son down, and Tripp runs off to gather some toys, while August heads into the bedroom, seeing his beautiful wife zipping up their suitcase.

“You’re late,” she answers shortly.  Standing up, only to smooth her dress down, refusing to look her husband in the eyes.  “Carys is asleep, and going to be in a foul mood at dinner all because you are late.”

“Orchid, honey, I’m not here to argue.  I’m here to change, so we can leave.”

“This has put us thirty minutes behind.  And,” her words get lost in her mouth as August steps up to her and starts kissing on her neck.  “Don’t try to butter me up.  Carys is going to be in an ill mood because…mmm — because we’ll have to wake her up from her nap,” his kisses always are the best.  Scattering kisses all down her chest, before the softest peck is placed on her lips.

“Carys is going to get to spend the night with her aunt Lavender.  Tripp as well.  And mommy and daddy get to have fun all night long, and not worry about anything,” dipping his hand under her dress he grabs a handful of her breast.  “And mommy is going to let daddy ravish her.”

“Auggie…” she starts to pant out, leaning more into him.  Eyes glazing over as she slips into a submissive state.

August clears his throat, and steps away quickly, leaving her to huff out in irritation, “Honey, we’re already late.”

“You’re insufferable.  The reason you’re late?” August silently walks into their closet, beginning to change into something a bit more casual.  Not saying anything, “I see.  The family business.”

“Did you know that your father hired a carpenter, finally.  He went out to the property today.  I hear your sister gave him quite the greeting.”

Orchid steps to the edge of their closet watching her sexy husband change, and all with a blank face, “Daddy’s stupid.  You know how Lavender is.  And why shouldn’t she be?  Babied by all of us, and mostly Daddy.  He’s kept her away from everything, and…” Orchid takes a deep calming breath, looking down at her wedding ring, and August catches the gesture.  “She has no idea.”

“Did an arranged marriage turn out so bad for you?”

“You are only a few years older than me.  Dahlia ran away.  Lotus is praying Daddy never takes her away from Nick, and Violet…don’t make me think about that.  He’s old.  He’s too old for her.  She’s twenty-five.”

“And he’s forty-five.”

Orchid chuckles, turning to go back to their bedroom before placing a family photo in his hands, “Are you going to make our daughter marry someone that is twenty years older than her?  Keep her hidden away from men so she’s a virgin when she’s married.  This is medieval shit, August.”

“Jack paid handsomely.  And your sister was no virgin,” Orchid rolls her eyes, starting to walk away, but August grabs onto her wrist, “And no.  I would never make Carys marry anyone.  I’m not the head of a goddamn mafia family.  You know…you know why he does this.”

“We didn’t ask for this, August.  We’re just pawns in this fucking game, and we have no say.  If…I got lucky.  Lotus is trying to play by Daddy’s rule, and all she wants is Nick.  One sister runs away so she’s not sold to Jack, so he buys the next one.  And what of Lavender?  She’s twenty, and…”

“Bart isn’t interested.  Chuck on the other hand,” August shrugs, buttoning up his shirt, “Plus, from my understanding another is interested.  She could be married in a few years.  She’ll finally get what she desires above all else; a man’s admiration.  I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“Oh?” She cocks up her eyebrow, getting distracted from whimpering cries on the monitor, and August starts to leave the closet.  Heading straight towards their daughter’s room.  “No, you do not ignore me, August Walker.  Why should I not have to worry about Lavender being sold?”

“You make it sound so gross.  It’s business.  You and your sister agreed to it.  It’s not like Lavender can’t get out, just like Dahlia did.”

“Answer me,” she stomps her foot outside of Carys’ bedroom.  Brows furrow as she stares up at her husband.  “Do not open her door, until you answer me.”

“Our daughter is crying.”

“August?”

“Remember when I told you the less you know the better off you are?  You don’t know how to lie, so it’s best if you know nothing.  Go get Tripp, and let’s head out to the mansion.  I’ll make sure she’s changed, okay?” It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but somehow August always managed to keep her and the babies safe.  

“Fine,” she answers, turning to fetch their son.  Letting August deal with their toddler.

“Hey, baby.”

“Daddy, I cy,” she stumbles out of her bed, reaching her arms up high for him.

“I know, baby.  We’re going to go to the castle tonight.”

“Ooh!  Pity dess.”

“Yep, mommy picked out a beautiful dress for you.  Let’s change you, and take you to the potty, it’s a long drive, okay?  You gonna sleep with Lav Lav tonight?” She gives him a nod, and wiggles out of his arm to go to the bathroom, while August sighs.  Things were falling into place, but the only thing that mattered to him were the three people in this apartment.  He would pull out immediately to keep them safe.  And everyone knew exactly where he stood.

Dahlia takes a long drag of the joint before handing it up to Jax who finishes the roach.  Turning to look back at his wife who was staring up at the giant mansion, “We don’t have to go in.”

“Yeah, we do,” she leans up against his back, rubbing her hand over his thigh, “I need to make sure they’re okay.  I was supposed to marry Jack.”

Jax hisses through his teeth, laying his hand over her own, “But you didn’t.”

“She did though.  She’s a child.”

“And we’re doing what we have to, including her, to make sure the same fate doesn’t fall to Lavender.  She’s convinced herself that Jack and Violet are in love,” her hand flips around, and she weaves her fingers in his.  Almost ten years of marriage, and Jax was still her best friend.  “She lives in a fantasy world to protect herself.  It’s easier to believe that her sister is just a princess that was rescued from this tower.  Lavender is emotionally stunted.  She’s created this reality to save herself.”

“Stop trying to make sense.  I hate it here.  I hate everything about this place.”

“Yeah, but don’t we get to have fun now.  You’re the badass black sheep of the family.  Tattoos, piercings, and married to an outlaw.  How does it feel to break the system?” Jax was the only thing that saved her.  He was worth the risk of running away, and eloping the day she turned eighteen.  Her father was unable to keep his promise to Jack.  That time.

“I hate him,” Jax, turns back on the bike to look at her again.  “Your father and Jack.  If given the chance, I want to kill them.”

“You can’t talk like that.  Especially not here.”

“I can.  I want them both dead.  Violet shouldn’t have to be a shell at the age of twenty-five.  She’s going through the motions to be a carbon copy of Orchid.  This deal was sick.  Your father is a piece of shit.  Magnus Romano will meet his demise.  I just want to pull the trigger,” Jax could almost taste his blood already.  He would pay for what he made his daughters do.  

“There’s a timing for everything, babe.  Come on.  Let’s get our quarterly dinner over with.  I’m good and high.  Now I need a drink,” Dahlia’s eyes narrow as a man walks out the front of the house with a shit eating grin.  “Mother fucker,” she grouses, slapping Jax’s leg.  “Ari?”

“Well, look at what the cat drug in,” Jax holds out his hand for a shake, but Ari declines.  “What gives?”

“I haven’t washed my hands since I’ve been here.  It’s a bit nasty and rude.  What…what are you two doing here?  Didn’t think the jackass Magnus let the likes of you two step foot into his place anymore.”

“Quarterly visits.  What were you doing in the house, Ari?” Dahlia slings a leg over the bike, and walks right up to him.  “No men allowed.”

“I was invited in.”

“You better leave that one alone.  She’s desperate.  Ow,” Jax holds onto his chest where Dahlia smacked him.  “What?  Come on, that girl is.  She is so needy living out here all alone.  She gets fucking bored.”

“No.  Men.  Allowed, Ari.  Keep your grimy little…ew, haven’t washed your hands you disgusting asshole.  Get…get out of here!”

“You coming by my little humble cottage to stay?  Maybe we can smoke a little?  Chat?” Ari laughs, wiping his beard again, only to get hit by Dahlia.  “She’s like a little chihuahua, Teller.  I’m only joking,” he pushes her away with one hand when she tries to smack him again.  “She’s like a big chihuahua.”

“It’s not safe to talk here,” Jax reminds Ari.  “Especially not high.”

“Well, I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future.  I’m only allowed to have one person on my crew.  But she has been very easy and forthcoming.  Easy, tiger.  My god, you know how I am,” Dahlia had heard all about Ari’s sexual prowess, and he was working it on her sister now.

“You keep your hands to yourself, Levinson.”

“She’s a big girl.  Let her have some fun.  Teller, loosen her up a bit.  Maybe she needs another good fuck on the bike.”

“Shut up, man.  We’ll see you after dinner.  We don’t stay here,” Jax nods his head at Ari as he walks towards the garage for his on property car.  “Babe, don’t take what that man says to heart.”

“He touched my baby sister.”

“And she needs to be touched.  Everybody wins here.  Keep your head on right.  Go on in.  I’ll be in your old room, you visit with Lav.  Sounds like she needs some tough love talk from you.  Let her have fun, but maybe remind her sex doesn’t equal love.  Not in this world.”

——

“No,” Jack answers, putting on his watch as he stares at his wife.  “I don’t like that dress.  Put on the black one.  And we’re not staying at your father’s house.  It smells musty there.  Nor do I want to be around the likes of Teller,” he looks at himself in the mirror, straightening out his hair before leaning back down to snort up another line of cocaine.

“No bra.  I like when you get cold, and your nipples point out,” Violet slowly closes her eyes as she reaches for the black dress that Jack had laid out of her.  Looking at her arm to see the tiniest healed mark.  Lotus helped keep it a secret.  He hadn’t discovered the implant.  She didn’t want children with him.

“And put on the Tom Ford perfume.  Last time you wore that Dior one, and it gave me a headache.  Never wear that again.  I left the jewelry I wanted you to wear out as well.  I heard Chuck was asking about your sister.  How much do you think she’ll cost?”

“I don’t know, dear,” Violet says walking out of the closet.  She is the perfect trophy wife.  She stands there, looks pretty, listens to everything she says, and lets him fuck her like an animal.

“I asked you not to call me that.”

“Yes, sir,” she responds, her voice devoid of any emotions.  “We should probably leave,” he pulls down the top to her black dress, exposing her completely.  “Jack.”

“I just wanted to look at you.  They’re perky, and pretty.  Mmm, if I could I’d make you take my cock in front of your family, so they could see how much I own you.  Let’s go,” he says, slapping her ass before pulling her dress back up.  “You know, I think I actually liked the navy one better.  This jewelry will still work with it.  Go ahead, change, but let me watch.”

“Yes, sir,” obedient, but sad.  Emotionless and going through the motions.  This isn’t at all how she saw married life.  Everyday used as a sex doll, and humiliated even when it was the two of them.  But Jack had paid a pretty price for her body, so now she is to be the trophy on his arm.  The one he got to show off in front of all his friends.  And she is but a vessel.

Magnus takes a puff of his cigar as he walks through the door.  Hearing a dramatic cough from his oldest daughter, “Daddy, my kids aren’t used to smoking.”

“My house.”

“My kids.  Either you put it out, or we leave,” no one ever goes against Magus’ words.  No one argues.  No one tells him what he will do.  Until Orchid had children.  He wanted her to marry August, she did.  August had taught her a lot of things.  Having a backbone was one of the many.

“Thank you,” she says when her dad lays down his cigar.  It was a disgusting habit.  “Tripp’s birthday is in a few weeks. ��My baby is going to be four, can you believe it?”

“I’m sure August is ecstatic for having a boy to carry on his name.  Some of us were not so lucky.  Even though we tried.  Tried lots of times.  August, my boy,” Magnus leaves her side to shake August’s hand.  Ignoring Carys completely, even though she is in his arms.

Flashbacks of the many times her father had ignored her flow through her head.  Carys reaches a hand up to August’s mouth, and he kisses over it.  Looking down at her quickly before continuing on with the conversation.  August would never ignore her.  And August was not Magnus.  She reminds herself by picking up their son, needing to touch his chubby cheeks.  

“Daddy, we should eat,” Violet says out loud, grimacing when her hand is squeezed by her husband.  Her eyes look down at the floor, ashamed for speaking up.

“Where is my princess?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Dahlia rolls her eyes, walking into the dining hall.  “She’ll make her grand entrance when we sit down.  She needs to be seen, and admired.  Let’s go,” she takes her seat with Jax, as far away from her father as possible, while the rest of the group follow.  

Magnus takes his seat at the head of the table, eyes looking towards the door when his youngest daughter bounces in, “Hey Daddy,” she gives him a kiss before reaching to grab her niece, “Hey, my darling angel.  You want to sit with me and Tripp?” Carys nods her head, loving any moment she gets to spend with her aunt.  

“Daddy, can I get clearance to go to a museum tomorrow?”

“No, I’ll have Tyler bring you some more art supplies here.  Just give him a list of what you need.”

“But Daddy…”

“I said no,” his hand slaps on the table, and Lavender looks down at Carys, trying to fake a grin, but is embarrassed all the same.  “I’m glad we’re all here.  It was high time we spent some time together.  Especially you, Dahlia,” it was best not to engage in his words.  Nothing good ever came from it.  She bites her tongue, her fingers digging into her husband’s thigh.  

“Eat,” he announces again, watching his family start to place food on their plate.  Missing how Jack is the one to make the plate for Violet.  While all her sisters are making their own plate, she waits for her new husband to put what he deems is the right amount for her to eat.  

“Daddy?”

“Not now, princess,” Magnus glares at his youngest daughter, who gives him a quick pout.  “What?”

“When do I get to be married?  Or date?  Or leave the mansion?  Or have a boyfriend?” Violet turns to look at her sister with her mouth agape.  Lavender had no clue how this worked.  She also thought this was a fairytale.

“I just want the big beautiful wedding, and someone to come home to me every night.”

“Princess, you’re too young.  Live a little,” she gives him a pout; her signature move with him, and it’s Orchid that clears her throat.

“There’s more to love than just a wedding, Lav.  I don’t like this talk at the dinner table.  This always ends in an argument, and if that happens my kids and I going to the bedroom.  They are hungry.  And they will eat.  And that is the end of this conversation,” Orchid gives her youngest sister the sweetest smile she can muster.  “Marriage is a commitment.”

“Everyone else is married though!” Lotus rolls her eyes, starting to tap her fingers on the table.  “Don’t act like you and…”

“Enough!” She shouts at her sister.  “Eat your food, and listen to what Orchid says.  If you behave, I’ll make sure you are brought canvases, and just remember, I have eyes everywhere.  How was your day laying in the sun in your new bikini?”

“It was fine,” Lavender lies.  Nick told on her.  It wasn’t her fault.  She was bored out of her mind and Ari was sexy, and paid attention to her.  And he made her feel so good.  Eventually he would have sex with her, and then she could marry him.  They would see.  They would all see.

“It’s always a joy coming here,” Dahlia smarts, kicking her leg over to Lavender.  “I’ll come by and see you this summer.  Wouldn’t want you to stay all alone,” Magnus lets out a groan.  The idea of Dahlia infiltrating his sweet Lavender’s mind was not something he wanted.  But he wanted a nice meal even more.

Dinner becomes mostly quiet until Magnus scoots his chair back abruptly, “I have to leave.  Lav, I’ll have some art supplies sent to you abruptly.  Stay out of trouble.  I’ll be back in a month.”

“A month?” Lavender complains when he walks out the door.  “While I am here by myself forever and for all eternity.”

“A dramatic little brat that…” Jack’s hand moves to Violet’s leg, and she stops immediately.

“We should be leaving, too.”

“It’s late,” Orchid stands to walk towards her son.  Picking him up from his chair, and kissing over his head.  “Violet has her own living space here.  You can leave in the morning.”

“We’re good tonight.  Violet sleeps better in her own bed.  I also have an early morning, and I don’t feel like commuting, everyone have a wonderful day.  Violet, to the car.”

“Yes, sir,” while she heads towards the door, without hugs from her sister, Jack bows his head towards the Romanos, following behind her.  

“I don’t like that prick,” Jax grunts.  “What happened to her personality?”

“She’s in love, and married,” Lavender tries to argue.

“You are a child.  That is not love.  That is control.”

“Yep, that’s my cue.  August, get Carys, we’re going to bed,” Orchid heads on up to her room, with August and both kids, while Lavender glares at Jax.

“I’m sorry to burst your fantasy bubble, but that’s not happiness.  That’s not a fairytale.  If you don’t see that, then you never knew your sister.  He was supposed to marry Dahlia.  What did she do?  She ran away and married me.  Everyone else will coddle you, but not me.  The reality is, if you’re on this path, you’re next to be married.”

“Good.”

“Good?” Jax snorts, standing up.  There was no talking to her.  “Remind me of how good that is when you don’t get to decide who you have sex with.  When you’re told who you will marry and who you will have children with.  Tell me it’s good when you’re laying on your back, getting pumped full of cum from saggy wrinkly balls.  That is your future.”

“Jax, that’s enough,” Lotus’ pinches the bridge of her nose.  While she agrees that Lavender needed a reality check, she was in the perfect position to get everyone what they wanted.

“No!  She needs to understand that this isn’t some fucking game.  Well, it is this big chess game.  You just need to realize what the queen is.  Live in your fantasy world in this big castle in the middle of nowhere.  But don’t expect the rest of us to.  Orchid and August were a one in a million thing.  Lotus isn’t allowed to get married because she’s too valuable to the family.  Because what you saw tonight, that’s your future.  A woman with no voice and no agency.  I’m going to bed.  Dahlia?  You staying or leaving with me, babe?”

“Leaving.  Lavender, open your eyes, sweetheart.  Jax would never lie to you.  Neither would I.  Ask Lotus.  We’re pawns.  We’re not queens.  Goodnight, baby girl.”

Lavender sighs as she leans back in her chair.  Arms crossing over her chest as she looks at Lotus, “You going to tell me how stupid I am?”

“Stupid for letting a stranger see you naked.  Stupid for letting the stranger in the house.  Know what game you want to play before you decide to jump in and hope for the best outcome.  Sissy, you’re playing a game that you don’t understand.”

“I shouldn’t trust, Ari?” Lotus sees just how young her sister is.  Even for a twenty year old.  She had no life experience.  Was kept locked away from any normalcy, and was stunted because of it.  “I liked him.”

“Just be careful with who you invite in.”

“You’re not telling me I shouldn’t trust him though.”

“Now you’re getting it.  Go to bed.  I won’t see you tomorrow, because I’ll have to leave early to get into work,” she walks over to her sister, giving her sister a kiss on her head.  Turning to walk to her bedroom.  She had given Lavender enough for this evening.  Give her something to ponder while she lays awake at night, and hopefully get her head out of the clouds.

“Lo?” Lotus turns back to look at her baby sister, wishing that life could be a bit different.  “Do you love Nick?”

“You shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.”

“That’s not what I asked.  So do you?” a blind person could see that she and Nick were too close for business partners.  But Lotus would deny it until the bitter end.  “Do you love him?”

“Yes.”

“And you won’t marry him?” Lotus shakes her head no, “Violet isn’t the only one that listens to Daddy.”

“Go to sleep, princess.  Learn to have your voice that isn’t controlled by a man.  Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Next

Masterlist

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[nkn0va]

I know this idea was kinda done to death with the persona asks. But would you be willing to write some headcanons for Kaguya, Wagner, and Yuzuriha with an s/o who's an american gunslinger? Their s/o also has a reputation for being so fast on the draw, Noone ever sees them draw the gun, they only hear the shot.

Ok now this is actually pretty fun to think about in the context of uni, much more than Persona imo. I just find EXS powers more fun. And a buddy of mine also has a gunslinger uni OC and he's done some pretty interesting stuff with that which helps.

-Fellow gunslingers unite.

-Dating Kaguya, she is 100% going to make everything a contest whenever she can. Oh there's a Void 100 yards off? First person to shoot it from here gets treated to dinner by the loser.

-Oh, there's a rogue In-Birth causing trouble that you were both aiming to deal with? First person to apprehend them gets a favor from the loser.

-No matter how good you are, she seems to almost always be able to keep up with your skill. Half out of her natural talent and half out of you motivating her to become stronger. Though she won't let you know that, obviously.

-It isn't long before the mere mention of your names together starts striking fear in the Licht Kreis' enemies, scaring them all half to death about just randomly being shot from seemingly nowhere should they start causing too much trouble for their own good. You two have mixed reactions about it.

-While you're likely just trying to do your job and don't care, Kaguya almost seems to have slight sadist tendencies in the fact that you two can scare the shit out of people with your presence alone, even if you have no intention of hurting them. You need to remind her to tone it down.

-A very polar opposites attract case. A noble knight and an underhanded gunslinger who will kill the moment they have any reason to.

-One would normally think you two would hate each other, you're probably the only ones who can tolerate each other enough to be in a long term relationship. Mutual stubbornness is going to color the relationship a lot, yes, however only you two can understand each other in that way.

-Such stubbornness leads to a kind of loyalty most people would kill to have in their own relationship, you two are an unexpected power couple.

-You two cover each others' backs very well on the battlefield, she protects you from any would be harmers that get too close and your cover fire protects her blind spots, she has full faith in your shot no matter how many snide comments she may give you.

-You two enable each other quite a bit, perhaps a tad too much. Anyone who doesn't already know you two are too intimidated to walk up to you two when together.

-A very practical yet fun relationship overall despite what someone lookin from the outside may seem. Neither of you give a shit what others think of you though, you're all that matters to each other.

-Pretty much opposite backgrounds but for different reasons. An honorable traditional swordswoman using a traditional katana and a western/western inspired gunslinger. Your first meeting with each other is quite odd to say the least.

-Not to say it was awkward though. That kind of contrast is the kind of stuff Yuzuriha lives for. It breaks up the otherwise monotonous life she typically leads with something new and exciting.

-100 percent, jokes will be made about this, especially if you're the more serious type. She'll make over-dramatic non serious speeches at every possible opportunity in an attempt to get a laugh or smile out of you. You doing so will only encourage her.

-She will one hundred percent challenge you you to contests of speed. Specifically whether you can draw your gun and shoot a target faster than she can draw her blade and slice. You two have yet to definitely decide whose faster because the difference is SO minute but that only makes her more determined to find out.

-Yuzu demands you visit frequently while she's guarding the shrine. Says she needs a break for some eye candy every now and then. Which to be fair is probably accurate, considering she has a shorter than average attention span, not good for the kind of job she has.

[dreamnants-mis]

It's time for yet another "more stuff I noticed while re-reading chapters". Today's focus is on miscommunication, especially when it comes to someone protecting someone else and how easily wrong it can go when one party does things against what the other party wants.

It got really long, so uh, sorry about that.

Spoilers for up to Chapter 183!

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Billy

Ah, Billy. There's a lot to unpack about him.

Billy's greatest flaw is his kindness and protectiveness. His wish to protect others is not a bad thing on its own. Where things go badly is when he decides to protect the younger Union members by betraying them and stealing their powers so they wouldn't have to fight. But of course, right away, this action hurts Tatiana, the girl who he treated like his daughter and who saw him as a parent. Not to mention the hurt feelings of everyone he hurt in the process who saw him as an ally and friend.

There's another thing about how Billy's desire to protect actually ends up in a sense demeaning the people he wants to protect because he isn't quite seeing them as equals or colleagues or shows he trusts them.

Something I don't think really gets talked about is how Billy did everything trying to protect the Union, but as the vision of the original unaltered future showed, forming Under indirectly caused Sean to kill Fuuko during the Autumn quest and her death causes a chain reaction that leads to the end of the Union as a whole. And this would have just broken poor Tatiana since Fuuko was her friend on top of Billy's betrayal. Things only don't end this way because of Anno Un's interference, but I think it really highlights how Billy thinking what's best for those he's trying to protect is quite the opposite since he's failing to communicate with the other party and that would have destroyed the people he was trying to protect.

This all neatly fits into what Unfair's flaw is: Billy cannot use his copied abilities to the same potential as the originals because he doesn't have the same understanding the original users have with living with the abilities. Billy for example uses Undead for regenerating only, but never uses any of the Undead techniques like Parts Bullets because that technique is something only possible for someone who lived long enough with Undead to make pain more like background noise.

There's another moment Chapter 72 has a subtle moment with this with Kururu (Unchaste). Her ability works on infatuation, and this is what she has to say about Fuuko when she tries using it on her:

Note Kururu saying Fuuko "fell in love with the mere idea of romance".

If it's possible Kururu was told this about Fuuko from Billy, than I imagine that's why Kururu was on guard duty even though if you think about it, Fuuko has the best chance of escaping her since Kururu can't do much else to stop her if her ability doesn't work, which it does because Fuuko has grown to love Andy.

But this also shows Billy views Fuuko as naive and thinks of Fuuko's feelings for Andy akin to a shallow schoolgirl crush, especially since he knows Andy protects her to use her to die and therefore he needs to prevent her from fighting in something she got pretty much dragged into. Of course, the latter fact was true. But, while Billy would have no way of knowing about what Andy and Fuuko went through in the Autumn arc, he does overlook that even as early as the Unrepair arc (which happened in September) that Andy was beginning to care about Fuuko beyond just a means to off himself. And Billy also ignores the efforts Fuuko went through to train herself to be stronger. I mean, Fuuko freaking blew a part of his face off with a gun when he betrayed the Union, which I don't think someone without resolve could have done.

While Billy knows what influences the strength of Fuuko's Unluck is how much she likes a person, he also overlooks it's Fuuko that makes Unluck such a dangerous power. Fuuko is a kind,empathetic and determined person that was given a cruel ability that would hurt her the most by putting people she loves at risk or worst. Yet, even at the lowest point of her life, she was still able to cry over a man unable to die who wasn't afraid to touch her surrendering himself to save her life.

AKA Billy doesn't recognize what about Fuuko makes Juiz see her as a beacon of hope and ends up focusing on just her ability, which alone isn't enough to kill God. I think Billy wouldn't be able to summon meteorites if he'd even been able to copy Unluck. And this is something even Billy ends up understanding and accepting after the Spring battle to end up regretting deciding to betray the Union in the first place.

Actually, Billy is also a little like Victor...But where Billy ends up differing from Victor is how he is able to recognize what he just harmed the people he wanted to protect and is able to make up for harming Tatiana to stay by her side until she dies.

Err, anyway, I think I've talked enough about Billy for this post. Let's move on.

Rip and Latla

Rip actually has some parallels to Victor and Juiz while he's mainly a foil to Andy... I focus on Rip for this one, but this also applies to Latla too.

Rip we already know is doing everything to get the Ark and loop to stop Leila's disastrous operation that killed her when Unrepair manifested, and he's done a lot of things (ex.cut his legs off, threaten people, kill people, etc.) in order to make that happen. Therefore, the other party is deceased.

But something interesting is how Chapter 109 reveals everything Rip and Latla have been doing is completely against anything Leila wanted for him or Latla to do. What Leila wanted from them was for them both to forget about her and focus on using their abilities to save others. I interpret these words as a genuine belief in them that despite their abilities being ruined by their Negator powers, there was something they could do with them to help others. Leila wanting them both to not focus on her death but rather the happiness they gave her despite her limited time to then focus on bringing happiness to others.

(Forgetting is actually another thing that pops up every now and then come to think of it.)

Unfortunately for Leila, Rip and Latla only despair and become desperate to do anything to save her, completely forgetting what Leila truly wanted and leading to them wanting the Ark to save her and only her. Something that ultimately ends badly for them both, and Rip in particular becoming a shadow of his former self to get to the Ark.

(Doesn't this sound familiar?)

Rip only remembers after both he and Latla are fatally wounded what Leila would have wanted would have been to work with the Union to kill God, the one truly responsible for her death.

A little detail I've I think is important to think about is the cover of Volume 13:

Leila's posture in this cover has her hands clasped together as if praying away from both Latla and Rip. We don't know what expression she has on her face, but I imagine being forced to watch your childhood friend and sister do anything for your sake, even though that was nothing you wanted, subjecting someone else to unhappiness, would make it a pained expression.

Is Leila praying for someone to save Rip and Latla from themselves before they do something that can never be taken back?

Based on Leila's words on her deathbed, I suspect if Rip had been able to loop and if she knew what it took to save her life was making another man lose the love of his life and dooming humanity in the process, I doubt she would ever be happy with knowing her happiness was at the cost of pretty much everyone else's happiness.

In fact, in the Sick arc, Leila shows signs she doesn't want to protected by Rip and Latla all the time, since she volunteers willingly to have Fuuko operate on her on the battlefield to be bait for Sick as her way of being able to fight alongside them. I mean, I think that speaks a lot you're willing to make yourself bait for a living personification of the world's illnesses and diseases without hesitating that's giving the organization dedicated to fighting them a tough time. So yes, it does still show Rip and Latla both due to their love for Leila end up forgetting what she would have actually wanted them to do, hence miscommunication.

Going back to Leila on Volume 13's cover thinking about it in the context of the Sick arc, perhaps Leila's praying may have been not only a wish for someone to save Rip and Latla from themselves, but a wish that she can protect Rip and Latla in turn after everything they're done for her, which is something she may be able to do in the 101st loop that wouldn't have been possible if Rip had ridden the Ark to save her.

Who knows?

Juiz and Victor

I talked about these two in a different post, but I really wanted to talk about it a little more here because of how these two are mirrors of Fuuko and Andy.

In this case, the miscommunication is very mutual on both ends. I think in the end, the ultimate breakdown of their partnership came when the two stopped being able to communicate with each other. As we learn, what Juiz and Victor want is for the other to be happy. But 99 loops of failure embittered and changed them both for the worst (Juiz became increasingly unfettered and Victor became nihilistic, and both became increasingly distant from their humanity).

Perhaps both of them ended up unable to be honest with each other, Victor not being able to articulate how painful it was to watch Juiz to become someone he was starting to recognize over an impossible task, and Juiz being unable to see what she was doing was starting to make Victor despair.

This part in particular where I felt that disconnect in communication between them. And that showed throughout the earlier conversation where it almost felt Victor couldn't say what he actually wanted as if he thought nothing he would say would get through to Juiz.

And well...we all know what happens next.

In the end, Victor hit the breaking point and tries to kill Juiz after deciding the only way for Juiz to be happy is for her to forget killing God and him and live the last loop peacefully. This is contrasted with how Juiz kept going in the first place because she wanted Victor to be happy, which wouldn't be possible if he kept being unable to die, resulting in her sealing Victor away with Remember so she can continue to try killing God, even if Victor wouldn't be with her anymore.

And the sad thing is in the end, neither of them get what they really want.

Juiz does indeed die like Victor wanted, but it's clear Victor realizes that it wasn't at all what he really wanted, because Victor became so disconnected from his humanity he probably only could understand why the others kept fighting after he lost the person that mattered the most to him. And it's sad on Juiz' end because she never did get to see Victor truly happy again, and could only wish to be able to meet him again in the final loop.

We might not know what might have been Victor's true wish unless he makes an appearance (and he probably will, considering there's actually a line that indicates another Negator near Void hidden by a text bubble in Fuuko's Negator roadmap).

Though I could theorize what both Victor and Juiz wanted in the end was to be able to be happy together. And hopefully, that may not be an impossible task.

BONUS

"Oh my gosh, you still have more to say?"

Err...yeah.

While on the bus today, I remembered that Rip is a foil to Andy and it reminded me of the conversation Andy and Victor had in Chapter 110 that I think highlights something about this theme:

Andy admits he's actually like Rip and Latla in that he wants to see the person he loves happy. But what's interesting is how he also knows, considering the person Fuuko is, if something happened to even someone considered a foe, she wouldn't be happy. Therefore, for her to be happy, they are both necessary for that, leading to the conundrum of whether or not to let them take the points. Ultimately, in order for Fuuko to loop, Andy has to fatally wound Rip because he's beyond reasoning with, and that is something he isn't happy about doing.

It's a subtle thing, but it does show something interesting about why both Andy and Fuuko are the beacons of hope for humanity winning, and I think that's just neat.

Okay, I promise, that's all for this rambling!

[shioritsumi]

Took me long enough to get to Bingge but he deserves his own post....

-Bingge knew the modern world would be different, but the technology is much easier for him to grasp than he'd thought and a lot of functions of daily life are simple or hardly changed at all. Society, however...it hasn't changed, exactly. Shen Tianyu talks about his divorce and Bingge has to get reminded inflicting random violence upon people isn't legal. "I'm disappointed too, man, but we both have to live with it."

-Bingge needs time to adjust to not being a demon lord and instead just being a tall muscular citizen. Blending into human society isn't something he has recent experience with, and he has to re-learn it.

-Shen Tianyu lives in a penthouse apartment, and Bingge still isn't certain if he likes having to take the elevator so often just to get in and out of the home. "Did you make your kid do this every day?" "Xiao-jiu isn't old enough for school yet, and this was my second home anyways-I stayed here when i couldn't go home since it's much closer to work. Now it's just....home, I guess. What else did you want?"

-Every time Tianyu talks about his marriage, Bingge gets sad. He managed to become demon lord of his realm, he knows what it's like to rule....but Tianyu talks about things as though despite everything he's had very little control over his own life. He loves his son but he didn't personally choose to have kids. He was "strongly encouraged" to go into business, rather than choosing it willingly. Bai Lianhua pursued him first, not the other way around. The more popular a person or competitive the market, the more easily Shen Tianyu could be compelled to join the race for it. Bai Lianhua effectively convinced him to court her by reminding him frequently lots of guys were after her but she was there with HIM.

Bingge is quick to realize this means Tianyu has done very little for himself in his own life. Which sets him about trying to seduce Tianyu in a strange complicated reasoning that he wants Tianyu to choose him of his own free will and not just because he's the all-powerful demon lord lusted over by countless women. How does one court a competitive man with crippling depression when you are the most desirable bachelor in a stallion novel?

(by the way, Tianyu likes Bingge bc he hears all his trauma and just laughs and goes 'mine is worse'. It's like his friendship with Shang Qingshui but better because Bingge knows when to stop.)

-Bingge ends up reading PIDW and is of the opinion the author has never had sex with a woman. Shang Qingshui can vouch for this, and Shen Tianyu thinks they should both think before they open their mouths.

-Bingge ends up finding all the Luo Binghe merchandise and doesn't know how to respond. "It belonged to my brother, but after he died....I dunno, it's a little like still having him around, since he cared about these things so much. My sister has the other half of his collection if you want to see it." Bingge is extra confused and he just inspects the merch because what even IS this. Some of the figures are fully sculpted in every way....EVERY way. His brother BOUGHT these? With his own money? "Well yeah, you were his favorite. I don't blame him."

-The more Bingge is told about Shen Yuan, the more confused he gets. His siblings describe him as smart, with a photographic memory, and decent looks "but he's definitely related to us". Bingge is absolutely concerned by this one. Hanjun seems to be the only sibling with his shit together properly, having started his own nutrition company and doing quite well. They're all possessed of a dark sense of humor, a sharp tongue, and a tendency to get hyperfixated on fictional characters. So what does this mean about the recently deceased Shen Yuan? "Oh come on, I bet you'd like him if you met him!" Bingge.....isn't sure of this.

-fun possible scenario popping up when Hanjun invites both Bingge and Tianyu to his wedding. Bingge swears he's not a maiden, but he definitely stresses out the most about being invited to a wedding for his boyfriend's family like they're a legit real couple and they NEED to make a good impression ("like we're a legit real couple? Bing-er, we ARE a real couple, stop stressing" "NO" ) they need to wear the right clothes, they need to bring the right gift do they need a sword because he has swords.

-Shen Jiuyuan and Bingge have to talk about it once the truth comes out to Bingge. For the longest time they aren't sure HOW to talk about it, and Jiuyuan doesn't want his new dad to know. They can't act like they don't have history, especially history as bad as it is. But this is a brand new life for Shen Jiu, and he has a father who loves and dotes on him endlessly, constantly apologizes when he's wrong and doesn't lecture him overly long when he's rude or violent. (Tianyu recalls being a difficult child himself, and currently figures the attitude and violent issues are just a result of being related to him-Shen Yuan was probably the only Shen son who didn't have a similar childhood and that was the result of having two older brothers.)

They may not necessarily like each other, but they love Tianyu, and he loves them. Over time they learn to tolerate each other and even share a few moments. Bingge is just mildly confused as to how going to a completely different world to find a new better shizun turned into karmic retribution for killing his own shizun. How did things work OUT like this?!?

-Bingge being prepared to hear about Tianyu's childhood full of soft comforts and spoiled luxury and instead he's told about a mostly ordinary upbringing because his family wanted to foster responsibility in their kids. (although they did always have good things and vacations and whatnot available) And Tianyu's stories of his childhood are most stories about being an absolute gremlin when he was a kid. "One time Hanjun had to fish me and A-Qing out of the river, alongside six other people because turns out that peg was important and i got grounded for two weeks." "I threw a snake at Qingshui's head once. We were ten, and in my defense he told my crush Mianmao i had 'snake eyes' so it was karma. He got bitten and i was suspended for a week." Tianyu just pointing to a super tall building and being like "I jumped off that when i was 15."

Turns out his new shizun was an unhinged child, and the only reason Shen Yuan wasn't is because Hanjun had already witnessed it previously and made sure Yuan didn't even have ACCESS to the most unhinged experiences Tianyu made for himself. Bingge silently wonders how he did indeed find someone to match his freak so perfectly, on ACCIDENT.

[noveratus]

Ok, I have just finished listening to the new WTNV episode and based on reactions here, a lot of people are having issues and while I agree it wasn't perfect, it's not for the reasons most people are, so let me give my two cents. Spoilers below

Alright, so let's start with the elephant in the room: People are upset that apparently nightvale is affirming that all abuse is cyclical and you cannot escape from it. That's literally not true, if anything, it's quite the opposite. What the Palmer lore has told us is that, yes, abuse cycles can be broken, you can always become a better person than your parents *however* it does require someone to make an attempt, to realize their own flaws and start working on them. You can only be better if you want to be better, which is the key difference in Kevin and Cecil in their respective arcs. Cecil wants to be there for his children, to his family, he wants to love them unconditionally and give them a better life than his father and mother ever gave him, and his relationship with his sister and in law and how much it has grown, even if he doesn't have the memories of their talks, is the best example of that. He is growing.

Meanwhile, we have Kevin who is someone who refuses to see his issues, who refuses to admit his flaws and uses religion and the idea of a perfect city as an excuse to hide the trauma he has endured. I know want him to be ok, to realize his wrong doings and be ok because people like Kevin but that just isn't how his character works. He is a tragic character. There is no way to put it. He is his own father, his own creator and his own greatest enemy as the boy wanted Kevin to be killed, possibly so he wouldn't end up like him, but ultimately he failed to realize what and how he would break the cycle. Its not through violence, its not through power and he didn't want to see that. He is a tragic character. I know people wanted a happy ending, but it's just not the character's point. He wasn't poorly written either or our of character. In fact, Kevin remains one of the most well written characters in the show.

No. My issue with this episode comes in the form of Tamika and Mother Lauren because I think that Mother Lauren was a genuinely interesting antagonist, however, she was done dirty by being so tied to Kevin. Despite the fact her actions affected all of Nightvale, all of her story was essentially solved by just Kevin and I don't know why the writers didn't just focus on that? Like, instead of having she fuck with the whole city, imagine if she just took young Kevin offering him the power to become stronger than his double while Cecil and Tamika tried their best to get him back, but he didn't want to. It ultimately ends with him trying to escape, getting absorbed and only being capable of being rescued by adult Kevin who takes him to be raised. Hell, maybe you can have Lauren's power to start reaching the other citizens, but she ends up feeling so powerful that it just falls flat. She is so powerful that she doesn't even have a goal anymore she just exists and a character without a goal isn't a character, it is just an obstacle. Compared that with the last arc with the university of everything that was genuinely terrifying, not because they held absolute power, but because the power they did hold affected the characters in a way that truly threatened them and changed their way of life.

Worst of all though, is Tamika. I don't know what the show is trying to do with her character anymore. Time and time again, she is shown that just diplomacy and talking without any actions doesn't solve any conflict. I thought that they were trying get her to be somewhere in the middle, someone who while doesn't enjoy violence, isn't passive as she has been lately. Someone who takes actions, pacifist actions, sure, but actions nonetheless but time and time again they just keep using her as this passive moral ground that is technically in the right, but never actually does anything about it and seeing what what she used to be, it just sucks, but hey, I still have hope. Maybe this is the point, maybe they are building her up and we will finally get to see Tamika grow to be, not extremes of violence and pacifism, but somewhere in the middle.

Mother Lauren though, I have no hopes for. After this ending, even if she does come back, she will be relocated as just a joke, a punchline for the arcs related to Kevin and the DOW that we might get in the future. That being said, I think it would be interested to see more residents of the other world as antagonis, like Charles for example using the intellect Carlos often uses against nightvale instead of in favor of it.

Also, I've seen some people complaining about this as well, so I will briefly tounch on it, no, Carlos didn't do much this arc, but I'm fine with that as the previous arc was essentially his arc and in character I can see his actions as being due to pressure and trying to get used to his new job as he has a much important role than before so he can't just fix all of Nightvale's problems anymore. I would like to hear more about his research and such, c'mon Cecil, you are lacking there, brag more about your husband pleaaaaaase.

All and all, I liked this arc, but I do agree that the ending fell flat in the sense that they misunderstood what should be focused on. You don't need to have an eldritch horror take over the city to have a worthy finale. You can have just a boy and a beloved character being taken away and get so close to a good ending only to end up being doomed by his own actions. Nightvale is not great because of the eldritch horrors, the aliens, and the magic. It is great because of the characters that were able to grow thanks to this environment and sometimes just focusing on these characters is enough.

[missielynne]

Who are YOUR favourite ghosts?? 👀👀

fun! (And I love sharing my opinions too, especially about both Ghosts series so whatever you wanna ask, don't hold back.) :)

For BBC: Fanny (I love the episode Bump in the Night mostly because of Mike but watching Fanny tell the burglars what to steal because the idea of them leaving the fancy dinnerware behind just offends her or whatever just makes me laugh.)

Kitty (She is so sweet, and her relationship with Cap is the best, and her reaction to Maddocks' wound was awesome and pleasantly surprised me.)

Annie (Annie is just...I know that she was only in two episodes but her relationship that we saw with Mary was just amazing, and I love how her reaction to dying (along with her death, which was also amazing) was just to start like, venting and shouting and saying everything she couldn't say when she was alive. That's the way to do it.

For the guys:

Pat (he seems like a slightly softer version of my dad and just the way he builds people up (like how he gave cap that badge) or just like, helping Kitty through Mary moving on, or teaching Mary so patiently about how a movie camera works. It just grabs my heart!)

Robin: I love how they write him as a mix of very chaotic and also very wise and smart and it just blends so well. Like they don't take either far enough that it sounds fake or whatever. They let him actually seem like a caveman who's been around four thousands of years and picked things up and used them along the way.)

Cap (Guy's just so funny. I love watching how he reacts when like, he has to deal with the other ghosts and like, he's so done. Like in Bump in the Night he knew what he needed to do but like...he didn't seem to quite know how to delegate so...lots of frustration and stuff which I love. I love his relationship with Kitty as do a lot of people, but his relationship with Fanny is just even more my favorite because they complement each other so well. I love watching his journey, and it's very heartwarming.

CBS:

Nancy (Like with Annie on BBC, Nancy is the minor character that I have latched onto and just, she makes me laugh so hard and this might be weird but like, Nancy is the ghost that would make me saddest if they got sucked off. I like her that much.)

Alberta (she is just so fun to watch. And I enjoyed how solving her murder was a plotline, and her reactions to Todd, and any time she doesn't care about doing stuff that's shifty...also the friendship between her and Hetty...I was initially surprised at how well that worked out.)

Hetty (She is just...not as like ha ha as Fanny Button but she's funny in her own way and I love watching her grow out of her prejudices and learn new things and her part in rescuing Flower from the well...that was amazing to watch and so straight to the heart.)

The guys:

Sass (love how he likes to stir up trouble and has to know everything that goes on in the mansion. It's the best!)

Pete (I know he and Pat are very close as far as writing is concerned and both have taken me to emotional places cause if you want to make me cry with CBS just put on Pete walking his daughter down the aisle and out pour the tears.) And sure, his development when it comes to like, not being a doormat or whatever is a little slower paced than maybe it should be, but he's kind and they do make an effort to surround him with people who will give him that push forward (his interactions with Nancy are my absolute favorite and I want more always). And I love watching him work with his traveling powers and the kinds of doors they're opening up for him and possibly his story line in the future.

[petalpierrot]

I would like to preface this post by saying that we made some changes to Rahadin as a character. And I’d like to say outright that I have always liked Rahadin but also felt like there were a lot of things missing, or a lot of the writing decisions were not the best. As a result, I worked with my DM to keep it as close to canon as possible, while still having changes that fit his character. 

Both myself and the DM really like how he turned out in our game, this time around. (this is not the first time we’ve played CoS)

Another thing is DM and I really wanted to emphasize how lonely and deprived of human contact Rahadin is, and how his past and exposure to everything shaped him into the person that he is now. 

I AM probably missing some information (between my transcripts and off-handed DMs) So I’m trying to recreate as much to the best of my ability. 

But yeah, this is what Rahadin is like in our game 👀

Starting at the beginning, there really is 0 information about who Rahadin used to be before serving King Barov and then, in turn, Strahd. So we tried to fill in those gaps the best way we could. 

His family were merchants by trade and they owned an Apothecary business (Medicinal and poisons). Rahadin wanted a better life for his family, so bringing in more wealth was where he set his ambitions, thus Rahadin joined the Dusk Elf Royal Militia, which served the dusk elf prince and the royal family. Because of his combat training and abilities, he became a soldier and a guard. 

One of the bigger changes we’ve made to Rahadin was his relation to Patrina and Kasimir. Rahadin now being the eldest sibling to Kasimir and Patrina, as well as 3 other younger sisters. (we used a table to roll for all of these things)

 (the whole genocide thing is now worse as a result, and there was genuine resentment between Kasimir and Rahadin at the time.) 

Back at the Blue Water Inn Eidys (Moon elf Bladesinger) was speaking with him as they were having lunch, questioning him more about the past and how his service to King Barov started. Because to her King Barov sounded like a tyrant, same as his son. She was curious to know if there was more to his story with the von Zaroviches. 

Rahadin told her that at the time, King Barov had only recently come into these lands as a conqueror. The silver lining at the time was that Barov was a strong leader and the settlements that did bend the knee saw many improvements. He still inflicted cruel punishments but the good seemed to outweigh the bad. 

The newly crowned Dusk Elf prince was not a strong leader and lacked the experience to lead. He was more of a puppet head to his council and their interests of power. The prince, forged in an age of peace while the war was knocking at his very door. 

Rahadin was questioning orders and speaking his mind. As a result, he was exiled for treason. He turned to Barov who took him in and as a final attempt at peacemaking, Barov tried to appeal to the dusk elf prince at Rahadin’s behest, but the young prince’s pride prevented him. Thus it all ended in bloodshed and the dusk elves scattered. 

King Barov was impressed with Rahadin’s battle prowess and as a result, he made him a general, and later on an honorary member of his household. Rahadin resided alongside Barov’s two growing children, and his at the time pregnant wife. 

It was not all sunshine and roses, of course. Rahadin watched as King Barov cheated on his wife, Queen Ravenovia, and in turn, her being mistreated and held to impossible standards. (Queen Ravenovia dismissed the mistress and on another occasion a maidservant who had an unhealthy obsession with Young Strahd) When Strahd was old enough, Rahadin watched as Barov molded him in his own image, making him hard and cruel, just as Queen Ravenovia feared. 

Years passed by and Rahadin also grew cold, distant, and cruel, developing quite a reputation for getting things done. But so did his loneliness grow, which he suppressed for hundreds of years, as he served Strahd, in turn.

Rahadin had been trying to warn Strahd about Patrina when she tried to appeal to Strahd. At first, Rahadin was relieved that Tatyana was a distraction from Strahd wanting Patrina. But that quickly turned sour when Strahd presented Rahadin with two choices, it was either he who would have to deal his revenge or Strahd could do it instead.

Rahadin watched Strahd build Castle Ravenloft, kill Sergei, and chase reincarnation after reincarnation of the one who he believed was his true love. Strahd lost his humanity over the years, demoting him to Chamberlain, etc. 

Rahadin has, since then, tried to rebuild some bridges he’s burned. The dusk elves are not outright hostile to him but they still are ever wary when he comes to the Vistani camp. they allow him to tend to the garden at the shrine and visit the graves.

This doesn't go anywhere but his hobby is baking, and his mother taught him.

[super-hero-confessions]

I've seen some discussion on Homelander's character duality and have been doing a lot of thinking about it lately. I find some of it strange and some intriguing, and I just wanted to share some thoughts on it.

There's some ideas that Homelander is who the character wants to be or is proud of being currently, but I think it goes much deeper than that.

There's an implication in the Diabolical series with Homelander's debut and first mission as well as the episode with 'Mirrorlander', and of course they don't cover everything. But I do think they tell quite the story.

The other thing is the often missed duality in Homelander's character, not to say that people don't notice he has more than one side to him, but more like they don't realize just how divided he is from the inside out.

He used to be a boy named John Gillman. Which Vought then tortured, never allowed to grow up, and convinced to be their chosen god puppet and 'perfect creation'. The Homelander.

But I think what people forget is that becoming Homelander was never really a choice for him. It was the path they set before him and told him he was going to be, while creating an image he not just wasn't prepared for, but couldn't possibly meet the standard of with the upbringing they gave him.

And this might be controversial, but I don't think Homelander is the real him.

I don't think John Gillman is the real him either.

I think they're both vital parts of him we see in the episode where he speaks to himself in the mirror. I think John Gillman is the little boy forced to be in a body far too powerful for even himself, that was able to admit that he wanted to be loved and does, more than anything. And I think Homelander is the part of him created by what Vought forced him to be that was yelling at him from the mirror, and is angry at the world for his circumstances and wants to take that feeling Vought stole, of having power and control back, through fear.

I think the real him is caught somewhere in a limbo between these two parts of him as there were a couple things that really struck me when I took a second look.

Annie January, or Starlight has a conversation with her mother at the end of the first season where she screams out, "No wonder I don't know who the fuck I'm supposed to be!".

The conversation is about Compound V and how her mother controlled every tiny little aspect of her life, down to her daughter never getting a real choice on what she wanted, based on a lie she was told.

Obviously, this isn't to say that Starlight went through anything close to what Homelander did, but the parallels of the situations can be seen, if much less severe, and there is still validity in the grief she has.

And that's the thing. I think Homelander doesn't know who the fuck he's really supposed to be. He wouldn't admit it, but I don't really think it's reasonable to think that with how badly Vought fucked him up, that he would somehow be certain of who and what he wants to be. And that just makes it worse.

When we see him in Diabolical during his debut, he is bewildered and in absolute awe. So far, only seeing the adoration from people. Something he's never had before in any capacity most likely. And those people understand him to be The Homelander, to be a new superhero that is there to save them.

There's even an immediate reaction of jealousy when the attention is switched to Black Noir because up until that point, Homelander has never had those feelings from people. Just fear and disgust.

Already, he's preconditioned to think extremely lowly of himself due to what Vought has done to the boy named John Gillman. And he doesn't realize he is a victim and that John never deserved those things, which works perfectly to manipulate him into being enamoured with this new persona that Vought created for him. Because it's new. It's different. And so far, it's not painful.

Understandably, his first mission goes terribly wrong. Especially when he is called a 'monster' as 'The Homelander'. Suddenly reliving his memories as the feelings against what he never chose to be come boiling up to the surface. He completely loses himself and kills every single person he is supposed to save, despite having initially tried to help. So we know that he wanted to be good, he wanted to be the hero, and he wanted to be loved. Even before being The Homelander, it was John Gillman who wanted all of those things.

But what happens instead? He is manipulated, first by Madelyn Stillwell into fighting Noir when he knows he's messed up and believes Noir will terminate him, and then Noir turns it around and makes him realize he can and will be loved by everyone as long as they never know he's imperfect.

And The Homelander is supposed to be 'perfect'.

So he latches on to that image and 'god' created by Vought while simultaneously using it to protect the and bury the boy he used to be.

And it continues like this. Eventually he begins to embrace the 'monster' that he can keep veiled while he takes power back through fear, and he can be loved so long as people never know about that 'monster'. Solidifying his path and duality of who he is from that very first mission. If he can get away with anything, why wouldn't he? Vought never taught him different.

The internal conflict won't simply disappear, but his comfort is having his cake, and eating it too. Even if he knows it will never be real...

[pb-dot]

Film Friday: A formal apology to Last Night In Soho

People who have followed me for a while, or done some serious backreading may remember an early essay I wrote about the Edgar Wright film Last Night In Soho and how I couldn't make myself to watch the thing again. I've been trying to dig the thing up again so I could do a good follow-up, but Tumblr's search function continues to be Like That, so I'll just have to go by my memory of the thing for now. Last Night In Soho spoilers and some dreaded nuance below the cut!

In short, I struggled with how mean-spirited the film felt to me. Protagonist Eloise Turner gets chewed up and spitten out by a London that is sleazy, cruel and unforgiven even in the genre of "country mouse goes to the Big City and has a Terrible Time of Things" stories. It's a morally messy and gray kind of tale, where our hero narrowly evades a victim turned villain by the cruelty of the world around her by confronting her with the cruelties she herself indulged in. It's a real Bad Vs. Evil kind of situation, and just thinking of how much of an exhausting, terrifying experience the story would turn to for young Eloise made her early scrappy, if naive, enthusiasm turn to ash in my mouth.

The thing is, upon actually watching the thing again, and through explaining what's going on to my parents that, bless 'em, weren't quite following along on the plot, I came to realize something. All of the things mentioned above are true, that is what happens in the movie, and that's ok.

Eloise gets the utter shit kicked out of her by the plot. She falls down the tree of Moving to the Big City and hits just about every branch on the way down. Her natural empathy gets hijacked by a tale more sordid and violent than she's ready for, and there's no pot of golden rectification at the end of that rainbow, just a sad, twisted murderous grandmother dying in a house fire surrounded by the ghosts of her murdered abusers. It didn't have to end this way, Sandie didn't have to try killing Eloise to cover everything up. If she wasn't so warped from the abuse she suffered she might've even understood that Eloise has a lot in common with her, even when you ignore that she has, through her paranormal powers, Eloise has literally BEEN her. Eloise has literally felt her pain, her fear, her desperation. There is nobody in the world, maybe not even Sandie herself that has as good of a reason to be charitable and kind fo Sadie. It's no good, though, Sandie is too far gone to even consider empathy a possibility.

This is, of course, bleak as shit, and how bleak it is kind of blinded me to the point the movie was making. Upon a rewatch it seems almost absurd to me that I missed it in the first place, but the movie actually has a pretty clever thesis on Nostalgia built into it. Eloise goes to london, expecting it to be as magical of a place as she imagine it being in the late 60's. It is not, of course, even if the 60's was a stylish wonderland like she imagines it, the wear and tear of time and several generation-defining economic crisises (and entirely too many Tory governments if you permit me to talk politics for a hot second) have changed the place up. That is, however, just the starting conditions, the base camp from which Eloise's nostalgic dreams get confronted with the nastiness of reality.

Sadie is in many ways the perfect person for Eloise to project onto. She strides into the world of late 60's Soho with the effortless confidence of youth. She's not from around here, but she is going to make her dreams come true withher gumption and her beautfy and her unflinching confidence. Sounds a lot like Eloise, except Sadie is more of a girlboss than Ellie ever gets to. Of course, Sadie also falls out of the tree of moving to the Big City and hits a whole ton of branches on the way down, but that's not all there is to it. See, if the takeaway of the whole thing was "the protagonist thinks Before was better, but she learns that Before Was Pretty Terrible Actually," Last Night would truly be too cynical, full of pain and suffering, signifying nothing.

That's not what's happening though, if it did, Eloise would take half a look at what Sadie's life turned into and gotten the fuck out of dodge. It'd be a tale of the depravity of the city that a good soul narrowly escaped. That's not the movie Last Night In Soho is, and it's not even close. If anything, Eloise's obsession with South London and the sad life and assumed death of Sadie only deepens as she learns of just how bad things get for the doomed starlet.

It's one of those plot things that effectively illustrates that the difference between a character strength and a character weakness is highly dependent on context. Eloise is an emphatetic person, mirroring her openness to ghostly visions by her openness to other living people. It does her no favors in most interractions with her new classmates, but Eloise can no more stop feeling sympathy and openness to experience and feelings any more than a tiger can change its stripes.

So, Eloise is an admirable character because she can not stop being kind, even when it's a disadvantage. She could no more fire back at her queen bee bitchy roomate than she could walk on water, and so she choses to resolve the solution by moving out entirely. It's that kind of "too nice by half" personality that's mostly present in fictional characters to give them a place to grow out of, to learn to stand up to themselves and so on. That's not the angle Last Night goes for though, I'd argue what it does is a much more nuanced take on such a character.

I would argue, though, that throughout Last Night In Soho, Eloise's empathy is in fact her most grievous character flaw. She almost ruins her life and her future by actively seeking out Sadie's tragedy, soaking in it like she can redeem the time period she is so enamored by absorbing Sadie's misery and quote-unquote saving her from her ignoble end. The world does not require this of Eloise, she puts this unreasonably huge demand on herself because it's the only way her unquestioning love for the time and place of Sadie's life can remain unexamined. Sadie's tragedy can only be an emergent flaw in the system of that time and place. If late 60's Soho chewed up and spat out young ambitious women like her and Sadie as a matter of course, how could it be the magical place of the movies and music that Eloise loves so much?

It's with this in mind that the ending scene where Eloise displays her new clothes designs goes from being a "oh, nice for her I guess" kind of denoument into a pretty powerful thesis statement. Eloise still loves the things she loved about the 60's, she still loves the music, the aesthetics of it, the style of the clothing, but it is tempered by a distinctive and conscious sense of anachronism. This isn't the 60's coming back, this is Eloise, a modern young woman, showing the world what she loved about those bygone times filtered through her own experiences. This is, the movie says, what Nostalgia should be, an ongoing conversation with and about the aesthetics of the past without attempting to restore some sort of prelapsarian way of things that never existed in the first place.

In a world where an increasing amount of people start looking at the 50's with a worrying level of fondness, I think a movie like Last Night In Soho is important. It's ok to like rockabilly, it's ok to like stepford housewife chic, it's ok to like three-piece work suits, the movie all but says, but don't try to make today like the times when these styles arose. They weren't the Good Old Days the way it's tempting to think of them. They were Days, and depending on who you were they could be the farthest thing from good. Love the things and looks you love, but let the thoughts patterns and politics that informed them remain in the past where they belong.

So in short, I fear that in my initial piece on this movie, I did the Classical Tumblr Mistake of reading ill, conservative, will into a nuanced work that deals with complex topics in a surprisingly elegant way. So, that's my bad, and I'm glad that actually getting off my ass and giving it a second look has opened up my eyes to a lot of beautifully shot, artfully presented nuance. Last Night In Soho is a great move y'all. Go see it. Hell, if you've only seen it once, maybe see it again?