#escapade chapter seven

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (THIRTEEN)

A very angsty chapter but with a good ending! whoops! The positive will return, no worries! <3

Masterlist ↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 4,3K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, talking about feelings, crying, realizations, angst (but with a happy ending)

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

“OSCAR JACK PIASTRI!” Lando’s voice rang through the hall as he barged into Oscar’s hotel room, eyes blazing with barely contained rage. “YOU ARE SO DEAD!”

Oscar, hunched over his suitcase, froze and looked up, bewildered. He could tell immediately that Lando was beyond furious, but he couldn’t fathom what had set him off.

“Lando, what the hell are you talking about?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed, scratching the back of his neck in confusion.

Oscar had just arrived back after qualifying, planning to freshen up before heading over to your room, as he did every race weekend. He’d been thinking about you the entire way back, looking forward to unwinding together, the familiarity of those private moments giving him a sense of calm after the intensity of the day. But now, standing here, all he could do was rack his brain, trying to figure out what could have provoked Lando like this.

Lando’s fists clenched, the knuckles going white as he glared at Oscar with pure disgust. He slammed the door behind him, sending a tremor through the room. “Don’t play dumb with me, Oscar. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Oscar’s face twisted in confusion, his mind whirling. Was this some bizarre prank? Lando was known for his sense of humor, but this felt... different. More intense. More real. Slowly, he got up from his crouched position and perched himself on the edge of the bed, his voice calm but uncertain. “Lando, I seriously have no clue what’s going on. Did I do something wrong?”

Lando let out a humorless laugh, practically spitting the air out in disbelief. “Are you actually this clueless, or are you just lying straight to my face right now?”

Oscar’s patience was wearing thin. “Lando, for the last time, what is going on?” he demanded, voice rising as frustration bled into his tone.

Lando’s face twisted with anger, and he kicked the door behind him, a loud bang reverberating through the room. “Jesus Christ, Oscar, you’re a fucking asshole.” His eyes flashed as he took a step closer, his voice dripping with disdain. “Maybe next time, don’t lie to my sister about your so-called ‘feelings’ for her if you plan on sticking your tongue down someone else’s throat behind her back.”

Oscar’s heart stopped, his face going pale. “Lando,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady, “What are you talking about? I had to kiss her on the cheek, nothing more. You knew about that—you know it meant nothing.”

But Lando’s expression only grew darker. “Oh, so now you’re not just an asshole; now you’re a liar too. I’m not talking about that.”

Oscar’s stomach twisted. He had no idea what Lando was getting at, but a cold unease settled over him. “What are you going on about, then?”

“If you were trying to hide your little escapade with that attention-seeking bitch, maybe next time you should close the damn door of your driver’s room before deciding to shove your tongue down her throat.”

Oscar’s face drained of color, realization finally sinking in. “Oh god, did you see that?” He stammered, starting to explain, but Lando cut him off sharply.

“I didn’t,” he hissed, eyes blazing, “but she did.”

Oscar’s heart shattered, his voice catching. “I promise, Lando, it’s not what it looked like.”

Lando’s laugh was sharp and bitter. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.” His fists clenched tighter, his voice deadly quiet. “You’d better have a damn good explanation for this, Oscar. Because if you don’t—and I mean it—if you even think of stepping near her again, I swear to god, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Oscar was left in stunned silence as Lando spat the words at him, guilt and regret washing over him like a tidal wave. His mind flickered back to what had happened earlier, replaying each moment with increasing dread.

*flashback to earlier*

Oscar had been in his driver’s room, unwinding after the high of qualifying, hoping to cool down before meeting up with you. Ava had followed him in, chattering on about the race and the PR obligations they’d fulfilled. They shared a laugh about the awkward peck on the cheek they’d had to perform for the cameras, the faint taste of staged affection still lingering.

“You looked so stiff out there, Oscar,” Ava teased, smirking. “You know, if we don’t make it look real, they’re going to know. We should really practice if we want people to buy it.”

Oscar tensed, shifting uncomfortably. “I think we’re fine, Ava. It’s just PR. We’re not meant to look that serious anyway.”

She rolled her eyes, brushing off his hesitation. “Come on, Oscar. Don’t be so uptight. This is for show. It doesn’t mean anything.” Her voice softened, and she took a step closer, her eyes glittering. “Let me teach you a few tricks. Just… trust me.”

He backed away slightly, eyeing the door. “This really isn’t a good idea, Ava. It could easily go too far.”

But Ava seemed determined, giving him a knowing smile as she leaned in and pecked him lightly on the lips, her eyes flickering toward the door. Oscar felt his stomach clench, a mix of unease and annoyance. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want her. He was only doing this entire act to protect you from unwanted scrutiny and questions.

“See?” she murmured, stepping closer still, her fingers brushing his cheek. “It’s not so bad. A bit of practice never hurt anyone.”

Before he could protest, she was kissing him again, her arms winding around his neck as she pulled him in closer. He hesitated, feeling every fiber of his being rejecting this, but her hand slid around to the back of his neck, urging him to deepen the kiss. Uncertain, he felt her hand snake up into his hair, tugging lightly as she pressed closer, the intensity escalating.

Oscar was caught off guard, feeling her press her hips into his, guiding his hands to rest on her waist. He’d barely noticed the way her eyes darted toward the door, a glint of mischief flashing in them as if she knew someone was watching.

He froze, suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of discomfort, his mind flooded with the realization of how much he didn’t want any of this. Summoning all the strength he had, he pushed her away, breaking the kiss and stepping back, his face flushed with frustration and embarrassment.

“Ava, this isn’t right,” he muttered, his voice strained. “I’m not comfortable with this at all. This isn’t what I signed up for.”

She smirked, feigning innocence. “Oh, really? You didn’t seem uncomfortable a second ago.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to snap back. “I’m doing this PR stunt for the sake of appearances. To protect someone I care about. But I’m not going to pretend that you and I…" he said, gesturing his finger in her direction and then back to himself "are anything real, because it's anything but.” He gestured to the door, his voice quiet but firm. “Please. Just leave.”

She shrugged, her smirk lingering as she made her way out, leaving him alone in the room, a strange mix of relief and dread pooling in his stomach.

*end of flashback*

The memory dissolved, and Oscar found himself back in the awkward quiet of his hotel room, his heart pounding in his chest as Lando’s words echoed in his mind. You’d seen it. You’d seen everything.

Oscar’s stomach twisted violently, leaving him feeling nauseated and weak. His mind was a churning mess, every second replaying the scene, the look on Ava’s face, the moment he’d seen her eyes flick toward the door. That sickening realization that she had known. And worse, that you had seen it all. It was as if the ground had been ripped out from under him; his legs felt unsteady, his heart beating erratically, each thud filling him with a helpless dread.

Lando looked down at him, his expression hard and unyielding, arms crossed tightly over his chest. There was no pity in his stare, only barely controlled rage mixed with something that might have been desperation. Lando’s voice was low, but the intensity cut through the air like a knife. “I don’t know if what you’re saying is true, Oscar, or if you’re just a damn good liar,” he said. “But if you’re serious about this, if you really care about her, you’d better get your ass over there and fix this. Because I don't ever wanna see that look on her face, ever again.”

Lando’s words struck hard, each one landing like a punch. The warning wasn’t just a threat; it was a declaration, a fierce brotherly loyalty that Oscar knew was unwavering. The way Lando looked at him, with such disdain mixed with pain, it cut Oscar to his core.

“If I find out you’re lying,” Lando continued, his jaw clenched, “I will make sure you lose that seat at McLaren. I’ll make it my mission, Oscar. You know how much my sister means to me.” He shook his head, an angered exhale escaping him. “I warned you about hurting her.”

Oscar couldn’t hold back any longer. His voice shook as he forced the words out, raw and desperate. “Lando, I swear to you, I’m telling the truth.” His hands clenched at his sides as he looked down, feeling his chest tighten painfully. “This is… it’s such a horrible misunderstanding. I never wanted any of this to happen.”

Emotion welled up inside him, a mix of fear, shame, and regret, and he felt his throat close up, his vision blurring. His breath grew uneven, and despite himself, a tear slid down his cheek. Then another, until he could feel the hot, shameful trail of them spilling freely, powerless to stop.

Lando’s expression softened slightly as he watched Oscar crumble before him, the fight momentarily leaving his own features as he absorbed the depth of Oscar’s remorse. He looked away for a moment, as if weighing his options, and then his voice came, gruff but more measured. “Then you need to go to her,” he said quietly. “Go to her, now. She’s going to be devastated. If you’re telling the truth, you can fix this. But you’d better go now.”

Oscar swallowed hard, nodding. He was already reaching for his jacket, his heart still pounding but with a sense of urgency to repair the damage. He couldn’t bear the thought of you feeling hurt, betrayed. The very thought twisted the knife in his gut, driving him forward.

“One more thing.” Lando’s voice stopped him in his tracks, and Oscar turned back to see him standing firm, his eyes cold again. “This PR thing—it’s making things worse. If you really want a future with her, end it. Because if this ever happens again, you’re going to lose her. And you’re going to lose a hell of a lot more.”

Oscar met his gaze, giving a solemn nod. “You’re right. I’ll stop it. I can’t… I can’t put her through this.” His voice was barely a whisper, but the conviction was there.

Lando held his gaze a beat longer, then sighed, giving a slight nod of grudging acceptance. “Go fix this, Oscar. And don’t make me regret trusting you.”

⁺⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺ ⋆⁺

After spending time with Lando, letting yourself unload the heartbreak and confusion, you’d assured him you’d be alright eventually—that you just needed some time alone. Retreating to your hotel room, you tried desperately to hold yourself together, to avoid being swallowed whole by the storm of emotions that seemed intent on drowning you. But the harder you tried, the more impossible it felt.

You caught your reflection in the bathroom mirror, and the sight was sobering. Your eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with smudged mascara that had streaked down your cheeks in uneven, telltale lines. You looked broken, more raw and vulnerable than you could remember feeling in a long time. The weight of it settled heavily, pressing down on you with each passing second.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. Startled, you wiped your face quickly, taking a deep, steadying breath before walking over to the door. You didn’t open it, unwilling to let anyone see you like this. “Lando,” you called out, your voice strained, “I told you I’m fine. Just… just go.”

But instead of your brother’s familiar voice, you heard the voice you least expected—and least wanted to hear.

“Y/N, it’s me,” Oscar’s voice was soft, rough around the edges. You froze, feeling your heart twist painfully at the sound of him. Every part of you wanted to sink against the door, to open it, to confront him. But instead, you stiffened, the hurt quickly filling the space where vulnerability once lingered.

“Just leave me alone,” you managed, barely able to keep the tremor out of your voice.

“Please, baby,” Oscar’s voice broke on the word, thick with desperation. “Please, open the door. Let me explain. It’s all… it’s all a big misunderstanding.”

A wave of emotion washed over you, and your chest tightened as you sank slowly to the floor, resting your back against the door as you fought to keep your voice steady. “There’s nothing to explain, Oscar. I was there. I saw it,” you whispered, pulling your knees up to your chest and burying your face between them, as if trying to block out the memory of it.

“You don’t get it, Y/N,” he pressed, his voice breaking again. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

You let out a bitter laugh, muffled as you pressed your head against your knees. “Oscar,” you mumbled, voice hollow, “You had your tongue down her throat. There wasn’t any press around, no cameras to put on a show for. You can’t call it anything but what it was.” Your voice was so quiet, almost fragile, just loud enough for him to hear through the door. “Besides… It's not like you owe me anything. We were never exclusive. I’m not your girlfriend.” You swallowed hard, the words cutting deep. “And considering what I saw, it’s obvious you don’t want that either."

There was a long pause, the silence stretching between you two, heavy and painful. You could feel him on the other side of the door, his presence almost palpable, and it took everything in you not to reach for the handle. But your heart was guarded, waiting, hesitant to give in so easily.

The silence was broken by a ragged, unsteady breath, and then you heard him sink down to the floor on the other side of the door, mirroring you, with only the cold, impersonal wood between you.

“Please… please don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I know I don’t deserve for you to listen to me right now, but it wasn’t what you think. It wasn’t real.” His voice cracked, and you could hear the tremor in his words, the strain of holding back tears. “Ava, she… she forced it. I didn’t want it, I didn’t—I pushed her away.” His words were stumbling, broken by emotion, and you could feel his desperation as he tried to explain himself, to make you see the truth he was so desperate for you to understand.

You stayed silent, torn between wanting to believe him and the vivid memory of what you had seen. Part of you, the part that had loved and trusted him, wanted to believe every word. But another part, the one that had been hurt, was afraid to trust again, afraid to be vulnerable. You felt your throat tighten, your hands curling into fists as you struggled to hold back your own tears, feeling them dry on your cheeks as you pressed yourself harder against the door.

He paused, gathering himself before continuing, his voice raw with honesty and regret. “She kept… pushing it, saying we needed to make it look real enough for people to believe it. She’d go on about how it would all fall apart if we didn’t act convincing, kept saying we had to practice that stupid kiss.” He let out a shaky breath, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “I told her no, but she just wouldn’t stop pressing, and then she just kissed me"

He took a shaky breath, his words fractured and heavy with guilt. “I-I didn’t want it,” he stammered, his voice thick as he tried to speak through his tears. “I swear… I didn’t want any of it.” His voice cracked, a choked sob escaping as he struggled to keep going, the desperation evident in every trembling syllable.

You heard him shift against the door, his back pressed firmly as if trying to ground himself. “I felt trapped,” he continued, his words punctuated by small, hitched breaths. “Like… like if I didn’t go along with it, I’d ruin everything—the whole stupid plan. And… I didn’t want to drag you into that. I was scared. I didn't want to ruin things for you”

Another tear-choked breath left him, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I… I couldn’t keep doing it. I pushed her away. I told her I couldn’t—” His voice broke, a raw, unsteady exhale filling the silence as he struggled to compose himself. “I told her it was wrong. I told her it was wrong, and I wanted it to stop.”

His voice faded, overcome by a quiet sob that made the door between you feel thin, almost nonexistent. The vulnerability in his tears was unmistakable, and even in the silence, you could feel the weight of his remorse pressing against you.

Oscar’s voice grew softer, pleading. “You don’t have to say anything if… if you don’t want to. But I just need you to know that it wasn’t me. I didn’t want that, any of it.” His voice faltered, but he kept going. “I’m done with this stupid agreement, this entire PR stunt. I’ll quit it—even if it doesn’t mean I get you back. I just… I can’t keep doing this. I love you, Y/N.” His voice dropped, barely more than a whisper, the words raw and honest.

The vulnerability in his voice tugged at something deep inside you, pulling you closer to that fine line between anger and forgiveness. You felt the sincerity of his words, the pain that bled through them, and despite yourself, part of you believed him. But the fear held you back, the hurt silencing the words that you wanted to say.

A silence fell between you, thick with unspoken words and shared pain. You could hear his shaky breathing through the door, and you knew he was crying. The sound wrenched at your heart, stirring a sadness that mixed with your own, leaving you feeling both hollow and heavy, unable to find the words to respond.

Moments later, footsteps echoed down the hallway. You could hear someone approaching, and then a familiar voice—one that made your stomach twist.

“Well, well, Oscar,” Ava’s voice cooed, feigning sympathy. “Is it really worth all this? She’s not worth it, you know.”

Oscar’s shoulders tensed, his breathing growing heavier as he turned to look at her, his eyes flashing with a newfound clarity, a sharpness born of betrayal. He recoiled from her, yanking his shoulder away from her touch, his expression a mixture of disgust and fury. Without a second thought, he rose to his feet, facing her with a look that could have frozen fire.

“You’ve done enough,” he spat, his voice low and filled with a venom you’d never heard before. “You’ve already ruined everything. Leave me alone.”

But Ava merely arched an eyebrow, her smile twisting as if amused by his anger. She opened her mouth, perhaps to retort, but Oscar didn’t give her a chance.

“Just… stay the hell away from me.” His voice was louder now, strong and unwavering, the raw pain of it echoing through the corridor. “I don’t ever want to see you near me again. Not at the track, not anywhere. You hear me?” He took a step back, his voice rising with each word, carrying both fury and anguish. “I’m done with this agreement. Done with you. Done with this entire PR stunt!”

The volume of his voice carried through the door, and even you could hear the finality in it. For a brief moment, the hurt and anger felt a bit lighter, a flicker of hope stirring beneath it all. The words he’d said, the fire in his voice—it felt real.

There was a shuffling of footsteps as Ava moved away, clearly surprised by his outburst. Oscar remained standing in the hallway, staring after her until the corridor grew silent again, empty save for him and the lingering echo of his words.

Slowly, he sank back down, his back pressed against the door again, his breath coming in short, shaky bursts. He didn’t say anything else, but his quiet, broken presence felt closer than words could convey. And though your heart was still bruised, still guarded, you found yourself shifting slightly, pressing your shoulder to the door, closer to where you knew he sat on the other side.

Oscar took a deep, shuddering breath, wiping at his eyes as he sat against the door. You listened to the sounds leaving the Australian's mouth, still pressed against the other side, your heart aching with every tear-choked word he’d spoken. Slowly, as silence settled around you both, you felt him begin to shift, his weight moving as he gathered himself to leave. He exhaled quietly, almost as if he were accepting that this was the end, that he’d done all he could.

The thought of him leaving stirred something urgent within you, a longing that broke through the hurt and fear. Without fully thinking it through, you reached for the handle. Just as Oscar rose, taking a few hesitant steps away, you opened the door.

“Oscar,” you whispered, reaching out to grab his arm.

He turned around sharply, his red-rimmed eyes wide with surprise as he stared down at you, disbelief mingling with the faintest glimmer of hope. For a long, fragile moment, the two of you simply looked at each other, the air thick with everything unsaid, every apology, every promise, every feeling that had built up over months. The intensity of his gaze, softened by the tears still brimming in his eyes, filled you with warmth, melting away the last of your hesitation.

You took a shaky breath, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I… I love you too, Oscar.”

The words seemed to break something within him. His face crumpled, a fresh tear slipping down his cheek as he reached out, cupping your face in his hands as if you were something precious, fragile, something he couldn’t bear to let slip away. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping away the last remnants of your tears, his gaze so full of tenderness and vulnerability that it took your breath away.

And then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours with a quiet desperation, a raw need that spoke of every moment of anguish, of every ounce of longing he’d carried for you. His lips were soft but insistent, moving with a careful, almost reverent passion, as if he were pouring everything he felt into this one kiss. You could feel the slight tremble in his hands, the way his fingers pressed gently but firmly against your skin, grounding himself in your warmth.

The kiss deepened, slowly, his lips parting as he moved closer, pulling you into him as if he couldn’t bear to be separated by even a breath. His tears mingled with yours, salty and warm, the emotions overwhelming as the kiss became a quiet exchange of love and sorrow, each movement a promise, a silent plea to never let go. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you held him close, grounding yourself in the solid warmth of him.

His tongue brushed lightly against your bottom lip, a gentle request that you answered by parting your lips, allowing him in. As your tongues met, a wave of emotion washed over you both, the kiss growing deeper, more intense, every second drawing you closer, until it felt as though nothing else in the world existed but the two of you. The taste of him, the softness of his lips, the way his breath mingled with yours—it was intoxicating, and you felt yourself melting into him, surrendering fully to the quiet, consuming love that bound you together.

His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss grew needier, more fervent, yet still so achingly tender. Your lips moved together in perfect harmony, slow and deliberate, savoring each touch, each taste, until the world seemed to fade away. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss even further, his tongue caressing yours with a slow, deliberate intimacy that left you breathless. It was as if he was pouring every unsaid word, every unexpressed feeling, into this moment, and you could feel it in every movement, every touch, every trembling breath.

After what felt like a lifetime, the two of you slowly broke apart, your foreheads coming to rest against each other as you both tried to catch your breath, your eyes still closed, savoring the warmth and closeness. His hands lingered on your cheeks, his thumbs brushing gently over your skin as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you, to lose this connection even for a moment.

“Please,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of emotion. “Please be mine.”

Oscar’s breath hitched, and he opened his eyes, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that took your breath away. “I’ve always been yours,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You managed a small, tearful smile, your fingers brushing over his cheek, wiping away the remnants of his tears. “I mean… for real this time. Be my boyfriend. Please,” you said, your voice a soft, tender plea.

A smile broke through his tears, a pure, radiant joy lighting up his face as he looked at you, his eyes shimmering with a love so deep it was almost overwhelming. “There’s nothing I would love more,” he murmured, his voice soft and trembling with happiness.

And in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, you felt the pain and heartache begin to fade, replaced by a quiet, steady warmth, a promise of something real, something lasting.

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

previous | next

Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff @silentreader128 @edixttor @sugakookie132 @a-beaverhausen

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 14: Cover Me

prev | masterlist | next

🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: An unprecedented strike at the heart of bangtan leaves you baring yours.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 5.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, (supernatural) animal attack, injury

a/n: if this whole time the slow burn has been me leaning nearer to a candle with a lighter... now is where I finally let the flame catch🤭👀

The one good thing to come of your escapade was, unexpectedly, quite a plethora of entertaining tales designed to make you feel better. As it turned out, most of the boys had also been just as, if not more, stupid than you on occasion.

While your body was exhausted, and smiling pulled at the cuts on your face, you couldn’t help yourself. All of you would be in bed long after the sun rose at this rate, but right now you made no complaint as you fell back against the couch with laughter. Even Yoongi, the butt of the current story, bore a begrudging grin.

“I still can’t believe it!” Jimin cackled, falling over Yoongi’s lap dramatically. In all honesty, you didn’t know how he even managed to speak around his giggles, “those innocent people just wanted to have a fun night!”

“Most of them were innocent-”

“And the non-innocent among them were terrified when the disco lights got hijacked,” you deadpanned.

Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“I was in a bad mood.”

“You heard it here: don’t mess with our Yoongi, you can’t imagine what he’s capable of,” Jin teased.

“It’s less of an abuse of power than stopping an entire highway of traffic just so the Kan CEO couldn’t get away,” Yoongi responded, eyes pointedly fixing on Jimin.

Jimin’s head snapped up, surprised by the turn towards him. His hand tightened on V’s, but the next second he scoffed a laugh.

“He deserved it!”

“That’s the reason every time one of you makes a fool of yourself,” Jin smiled. “You can be stupid and they can still deserve it.”

His eyes flicked over to you, then. While embarrassment still washed over you, it gave way to a sheepish smile, your private response.

Sinking into the warmth of the squishy sofa, a smile laced your lips, not leaving, as your friends kept laughing and poking fun. The night went on, eyes beginning to droop and laughter growing sleepy.

They had welcomed you back with understanding. It was more than you could have hoped for, some hours ago fighting for your life in the cold.

This was your home. And the man who once wanted you gone had been the one to bring you back.

Jungkook hadn’t sat beside you. After the revelations you had shared in the bathroom, perhaps your both needed some reeling space. But you noticed his eyes on you from his spot opposite, and found your smile came easily.

Though he didn’t return it, he wasn’t cold. His expression unwavering, his brows were almost imperceptibly creased with intrigue.

You only let your body’s haze of exhaustion wash through you, not trying to read closer into his demeanour. Although you may not understand him half the time, you knew one thing for sure, and for tonight, that was enough.

He still wanted you here.

Noise drenched the space, wrenching you from sleep. Even while your eyes were still opening, your body moved without you, getting your legs under you.

Covers thrown off, the relative cold shocked you fully to your senses before another crunch shook the very walls.

Suddenly very awake, your brain whizzed through the last dizzying seconds. And didn’t land very far from the initial, sleep-crazed and panicked conclusion that you were dying.

The crunch was interrupted before it even finished ringing out, by another noise, splintering through the air. An immense thud of something hitting the ground buzzed through the floorboards beneath your feet.

Heart hammering as if trying to match the cacophony assaulting you, you sprinted for the door. You threw it open and stopped dead.

Sudden, brilliant light assaulted you. Of course it was light; you had all stayed up far too late after yesterday. So much for a rest.

But the light didn’t come from the window.

It came from the gaping hole in the ceiling.

Hardly daring blink, you let your eyes strain in shock and staggered from your doorway. A chunk of rubble sat in the hall, between yours and the others’ bedrooms. Gaping, you looked to the chasm above you, beyond which was sky.

Just then, another movement drew you back to earth.

You had never seen Namjoon with bedhead before, your scrambled brain realised as you met eyes with your bewildered leader through a doorway.

And then darkness plummeted between you.

Thunder deafened you, and you were forced to jump back from a shower of debris. Beyond the caving of the roof, a roar rumbled. Not another sound of stone or brick; it was like an animal.

You readied your hands, the only thing you could do.

The wall of wreckage settled so high you could no longer see Namjoon. But the others must be awake, too. Whatever the hell was going on, you would take it together.

A shape loomed then in the open space, blocking out the sun. Before you could make out more than a silhouette, it stomped closer, the building shuddering beneath it. Dust rained down in the thin remaining streams of sunlight.

Then, all at once, it pounced through the hole it had opened, and was filling the air with its great roar.

Rubble cracked under its feet. The floor shook. The doors rattled – before the thing lashed out an immense arm, and the wood splintered like paper.

So it had arms. And legs, poised beneath it like a predator. And teeth.

Eyes adjusting, you honed in. You didn’t like what you saw.

Unfortunately, it saw you too.

The beast’s furry head twisted your way, fixing you with eyes you would never forget. Its jaws opened, and your power surged within you at the same moment it lunged-

Then shot sideways in a blur. It fell with the crunch of its own weight, a lump of masonry disintegrating around it.

Aborting your shot at the last second, you fell back against the wall, blindly throwing your arms up as claws slashed through the air inches from you in the fall. Bricks flew, slamming dents into plaster.

You stayed there, fixed in place, gasping. Not just because of the near-miss.

You knew this beast.

A blur and Jimin was in front of you, feet skidding to a halt among the dust and smithereens. Looking up at him in shock, you found his face hardened, nostrils flaring as he glared towards the creature.

He stuck a hand under your nose, but as you took it, a lumbering shape reappeared in the corner of your eye.

Clutching your hand tighter, Jimin stepped back.

The monster whizzed around, limbs flailing. Nothing it came into contact with could put up a fight; the tv sparked as talons sliced through the centre. It fell uselessly to the ground and burst into flames behind the creature, who drew to its full height. The glinting gaze was the same, unperturbed by Jimin’s rock-solid attack.

“What is that?” Jimin hissed in horror.

You could have answered, but shock had words sticking in your throat.

Everything moved at once, the monster leaping forwards again. It forced you and Jimin apart, both diving away from the vicious claws. Its bulk smashed against the wall, but it was already scrambling up, readying a new strike.

Crawling below the kitchen table on your elbows, you looked over your shoulder in time to see the eyes swivel straight to you again. Dread overflowed in your chest.

But it got no further.

An impact knocked its head sideways, though not off-balance this time. Merely a jolt, as if dodging a fly. Growling deep in its throat, it looked around.

At the same moment, you found the form streaking through the air which had struck it. Hobi.

Uncaring for the chairs you sent crashing to the floor, you shot up from your shelter and took aim. Your electric blue took out the arm that threatened your friend.

And so it was back on you.

Thundering steps pounded closer and you were backed into the wall. Another strong blast hit it square in the chest, but only served to anger him more. Every nerve screamed at you to dodge, flee sideways, but you squared your jaw and let him run at you.

Remembering what Kuyang had told you, you hoped the same weak spot still held true on Frank. You had never actually had to use it before.

“Y/N!”

Jin’s yell of your name threw you off, tearing your eyes from the spot on Frank’s head. Flooding over the pile of rubble came the rest of your team. Jin cocked a gun by his head. Your eyes darted between the monster and your friends, the world slowing for a breath.

“No…” you whispered. Frank was almost upon you.

Jin fired. The crack of a bullet made Frank turn, the sweet spot on his head now out of sight.

Cursing, you ducked as he made impact with the wall, apparently forgetting you were ever there. Scrambling clear of his reach, you found your feet. But Frank was already moving again.

Among the mass of matted hair, you saw the tail of a dart poking from his back. A tranquilizer. While a good idea, you knew that it wouldn’t knock Frank out by a long shot. He needed strong sedation, and a lot at that. Your lab wasn’t equipped for that.

All they had done was piss him off more. Your heart thundered along with Frank’s steps as he lunged for your friends.

With a sweep of his hand, V shot up a wall of purple flames. Frank bellowed and swiped at them, unfazed by the burn. Orange fire burned thicker your end of the room, spreading from the tv to the rug, and you leapt around it, firing at the monster’s back. Anything to keep him from your brothers.

Sure enough, Frank turned, but a new shape came at him. Your heart squeezed as Hobi flew so close by – near enough to the weak spot on his head, but he didn’t know about that. Among the crashing and roaring of fire and fighting, he would never hear you. Your comms were safely tucked away in a room downstairs. This was a fight you hadn’t seen coming.

Frank’s eyes locked onto the boy coming for him. Hobi landed a solid kick and whirled away, but Frank wasn’t giving up. A slash of talons followed.

“No!” you screamed, firing with precision into Frank’s eyes.

The creature stumbled, claws fumbling wildly, but it hadn’t been enough. Hope’s form dropped hard to the floor, rolling away. He stayed there, still on the floorboards.

Jimin marched closer, a hand raised, and Frank was slammed back into the wall. Jimin flung his arm down and Frank’s face was smashed on the rubble, dropping to his knees.

With the brief distraction as cover, you raced towards Hobi. Skidding to your knees in front of him, a breath punched out of you as you saw his eyes open.

“Shit, Hobi.”

Reaching out, you circled your arm around his shoulders and hauled him to sit with your help. You winced along with him, but you had to move. A long gash ran down his chest.

“I’m… okay,” he panted.

“Bullshit,” you spat.

A new holler from the beast had you whirling to look over your shoulder. Frank held Jimin in a gargantuan fist, raising him from the ground.

“Jimin!” you cried, but your voice was drowned out in Frank's roar, and the bursts of desperate rifle fire from Jin.

V had already leapt into action, murderous purple tinting his eyes as he brought flames up around the beast, swamping him. Jimin’s eyes still burned pink, despite his immobilisation. His brows drew down in focus, and a new piece crumbled from the roof onto the monster’s skull.

Though it stumbled, the creature didn’t even fall.

“We need to get out of here,” you hissed.

Though Hobi sagged against you, you felt him nod. Easing him to rest against the wall, you stood.

A silhouette darting through the flames emerged. You had never seen V like this. His expression was clouded with dark, wild anger and he leapt for Jimin, catching hold of Frank’s arm and swinging from it.

Blazing purple circled Frank’s flesh along every inch where V made contact.

An ear-splitting howl of pain and rage ripped from the monster’s throat. Throwing his arms to the side, he tossed both V and Jimin who came flying towards you. In mid-air, Jimin caught hold of V, curling around him before they both came tumbling to the ground at your feet.

Thrashing his immense arms, Frank blundered out of the column of fire, leaving it to eat up the building behind him.

Seeing Jimin and V untangling themselves, bruised but mobile, you stepped around them.

“Get out of here,” you told them with urgency, “take Hope.”

“Y/N-!”

Jimin called after you, but you were already starting forwards.

The only one left standing was Jin – where were the others? – so you had to put a stop to this before anyone else got hurt. Dashing forwards, you found Frank hadn’t made a target of you yet. He took his fury out on your house, which was quickly devolving into little more than wreckage.

A glance at Jin showed him backing away, to your relief. In the other direction, Hobi was sandwiched between Jimin and V, rushing between the violet flames to escape through the garage.

A booming roar brought you back to Frank.

The monster stomped his foot, gaping jaws wide and snarling as he lifted his arms. Claws dug into brick, tearing off a chuck of ceiling. You jumped as he sent it crashing to the ground in a fog of dust.

A wall of rubble was stacked in front of you, but Frank’s enormous foot cracked it easily as he stepped over it.

Red fire spat at your back, the heat immense. You couldn’t back up further.

Frank’s giant fist descended, grip circling a couch, the end of which was already flaming. He lifted it, flung it to the side. Removing it from his path as he advanced on you.

Below it, someone moved. Ducking underneath, heading straight for you. Next moment, the figure crashed against you, throwing you to the side with strong hands gripping your arms.

They flipped, taking the brunt of the fall to their back as you slid together among the debris.

Instantly, you were struggling against them, throwing the arms off. They let you go, and you struggled to your feet, rounding on them.

“Jungkook?”

He staggered up too, reaching for your arm.

“We need to go,” he panted, “we can’t fight it.”

“I can,” you protested, shaking him off.

But he sprung forwards, grabbing you. With a startled cry, you were twisted around. His arm caught your waist, yanking you against him, placing him closest to Frank to fire a golden beam at the claws which had swiped for you.

“I thought we went over this?” Jungkook’s voice was ragged in your ear.

A new pounce from Frank sent you both diving over the rubble. You landed hard on your elbows, Jungkook’s arm on your back.

“We did,” you gasped, scrambling to right yourself, eyes never resting between Jungkook’s confusion and the looming threat of Frank. “But I mean it this time. I know how- argh!”

Frank swept a forceful kick at the table. It cracked under the force, two halves shooting into the air to crash against the kitchen cabinets.

Dropping to the floor, you rolled away from the hunk of wood as it clattered back to earth between you and Jungkook.

In the haze of dancing flames and cascading dust, thick in the air, you met Jungkook’s eyes.

“Just trust me!” you shouted, the words wrenching deep from your chest. Your chest rose and fell sharply with exertion. Frank was running again. You had had too many chances already; this had to be the one.

With one last glance back at Jungkook, you found his eyes blazing. But with determination, not anger.

“Cover me?” you called.

A sharp nod was all you needed.

Not sparing any moment to doubt, you took off. Charged straight at the beast.

Just as you trusted he would, Jungkook rushed the other way, firing gold right into Frank’s heart. Its predatory eyes followed Jungkook, while its back turned to you.

Frantic heart spurring you on, you fixed your eyes on the spot you aimed for.

And jumped.

There was no way Frank didn’t feel the human landing bodily against his back. The moment you made contact, you grabbed on fiercely, anticipating the enraged lurch of his body as he tried to throw you off.

Dangling from his shoulder, you swung a leg up, securing around his neck.

Dazzling gold knocked a fist aimed for you off-course. Jungkook had your back. You couldn’t afford to spare any attention on where the next one would come from.

Reaching up, you grabbed onto Frank’s head, fingers closing around a bony ridge that lined his monstrous skull. He shook harshly, making you cling with your every muscle as your hand fumbled over his skin.

And then you pressed down. Scrubbing your hand back and forth, the effect was almost instant.

The shaking stopped. You didn’t. This patch should knock him out for at least half an hour, you remembered.

Then Frank dropped, his entire mass hitting the ground as one. You were thrown down with him, head jerking forwards and stopping inches from the floor.

There you stayed for a long second. Just panting in the sudden stillness.

At last, you rolled off the monster’s form, bracing your landing with hands against the ground. A bit shaky from the adrenaline crashing through you, you let yourself smile, and looked up.

The place was a mess. If only you could have got to Frank sooner, it need not have escalated like this. But you had no way of telling your friends not to get involved. At least you had done it now, although the place was left a disaster scene of fire and debris.

Trying your best to ignore the crackling flames, you looked up to the figure silhouetted in front of them.

Jungkook looked back at you in total shock. His slack face was painted with a shade of bewildered horror.

“What. The hell.” He said flatly.

Huffing a laugh, you finally pushed yourself to your feet and wiped your hands on your trousers.

And found yourself knocked back by a fierce hug. The shock alone nearly swept you off your feet. As it was, you kept your ground and blinked, startled, into Jungkook’s shoulder as his arms wrapped fast around you.

It was all you could do to get your arms to stop hovering, and tentatively hold him in return. Not to mention the effort it took to ignore the frightening soar of your heart under his touch. Surely he would feel it thumping against him, with how tight he gripped you in that moment.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” he half-laughed, stirring the hair above your ear.

Forcibly shutting your gaping mouth, you chuckled, face falling forwards against his shoulder.

“So you keep saying,” you replied wryly.

Finally, you summoned the courage to ease away from him. Honestly, you were a bit worried about the speed your heart was pumping the longer you touched, but it was strangely counter-intuitive to step out of his arms.

Jungkook found you with wide eyes, and slowly lowered his hands in a mirror of yours.

With an awkward laugh, you darted your gaze away.

“Kuyang made this guy,” you nodded down to the creature. Your eyes lingered the closed eyes and tantalising teeth that had always made you shudder back in your days at the lab. “We called him Frank.”

You weren’t sure Jungkook’s eyebrows could climb any higher.

“…Frank?”

“Yeah. Bit more fun than ‘Necrus X’, I suppose,” you shrugged, and stepped to Jungkook’s side.

He kept eyeing Frank.

“How long do we have?”

“He’ll wake up in around half an hour,” you told him.

His eyebrows pulled downwards a fraction, and he glanced around the space.

“How do we kill it?”

But your focus was distracted by a pitch floating through the air, growing closer. Looking up, you found your gaze on the empty hole torn in the roof.

Sirens.

People were arriving.

“Let’s not stick around to try.”

Jungkook seemed to agree with you, reaching for your hand in an instant. Then he was tugging you with him, towards the stairs leading underground to the training space. You never usually had to scale piles of rubble to get there, but the world did change very fast these days.

Near the peak of the mini-mountain, you took the chance to peer up through the cracks. Blue lights flashed somewhere near, and you had never heard so many people at once in this part of town.

Soon, Jungkook’s hand was urging you on, and you jogged down the stairs side-by-side.

“Looks like we’re busted,” you worried aloud.

Jungkook sighed, but it could have been from the exertion. Your feet met the training floor and you raced away together. He kept clutching your hand. Of course, you had expected him to let go the first chance he got, and yet you found yourself holding firmly in return. Must be the need for some kind of steady comfort after that fight. Right?

“Namjoon and Yoongi cleared us out,” Jungkook was saying. You had to force yourself to tune in, wresting your mind away from the ever-present warmth of his fingers around yours.

“I guess they’re prepared for something like this. They shut down all the tech, collected some documents. Destroyed some things too. It was almost like Namjoon was... ready for this? He told me to just get everyone out.”

“But how did they find us?” you frowned.

Turning down the corridor where Namjoon’s office lay, you saw Jungkook was right. The doors all stood open, nothing but darkness beyond.

Jungkook led you both to the end of the hall. You had never been here before, but somehow it hadn’t crossed your mind to question Jungkook about where you were going. He eased to a stop beside you then, unable to help a glance over his shoulder. Just in case.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, meeting your eyes. His shoulders slumped and he frowned to himself, shaking his head. “I mean, there was the car you saw tailing you guys. Maybe there were more. They tried again, or-”

There was no way either of you could know right now. It wouldn’t change anything.

Turning himself from that line of thought completely, Jungkook dropped your hand and approached the wall. You bit your tongue, your fingers retracting straight away at the lack of his warmth. It had felt strange, standing still and yet holding hands – no, not holding hands, but… grabbing. Out of necessity.

It just hadn’t crossed his mind to let go. You ignored the fact that once upon a time, it would have been the only thing either of you thought about until you could finally be rid of the other.

Shaking your head, you almost wiped your hand on your trousers. You stopped, for some reason, and just ran your thumb over your fingers instead.

In front of you, Jungkook reach for a fire extinguisher fixed to the wall. Raising your eyebrows, you prepared to tell him that the place really was past repairing, when he pushed down on it instead.

It moved, something clicking into place out of sight. In a blink, a square had emerged in the blank wall, and Jungkook pushed it out. A panel swung inwards, revealing empty space beyond.

Lifting a leg to swing inside, Jungkook turned to you with a smirk. It was your turn to be stunned.

“That sure is helpful,” you muttered, before starting forwards.

A bright laugh came from Jungkook as he hopped down into the passage.

“Namjoon-hyung really thought of everything.”

Humming your assent, you climbed through the opening. Jungkook secured the panel back into the wall. For a moment, you were submerged in total darkness, only sensing the click of your hiding place being concealed.

A weak light filtered to life above you after a few seconds of waiting. It illuminated Jungkook, who was looking up, clearly anticipating its arrival.

“Right.” He met your eyes, and swallowed. The space here was much thinner than outside, the walls forcing you nearer. “Let’s get moving.”

Nodding rapidly, you waited for him to turn and lead you on. Once his back was safely to you, you let out a breath, feeling your heart winding down in your chest. Some adrenaline trip you had been on, huh?

“Where are we going?” you asked, hurrying after him. Something about this place made you hush your voice, however illogical that was.

“It should get us a safe distance away,” Jungkook replied over his shoulder, “Namjoon had time to give me this. We’ll head to the coordinates he sends.”

The emergency lighting in the tunnel was sparse, and as you walked you fell through light and shade. Currently in a patch of darkness, you squinted to make out a small pager screen which Jungkook held up to show you.

So you carried on. With no idea where you were, or what was going on, you probably should have been freaking out a lot more. But right now, you had a direction. Somehow, following Jungkook eased your concern. You were glad he was the one with you...

Wow, that was something you shouldn’t admit out loud. You eyed the man in front of you, as if worried he could have read your thoughts. He only kept walking.

Eventually, the passage gave way to a set of industrial-looking metal stairs. Together, your footsteps clanged gently against the comfortable quiet.

At the top, you found a door made of thick metal. A grate set into it at eye-level let in the buzz of traffic beyond – and sirens.

Ahead of you, Jungkook peered through the small gaps, before stepping back to make way for you. He met your eyes with the same concern you felt. Was it safe for you out there? Looking down at yourself, you took in your attire. Neither of you were wearing anything particularly distinctive, having been surprised at home.

“Let’s not chance it,” Jungkook interrupted your thoughts, but you could hear the frustration concealed in his voice. Neither of you much fancied sitting around doing nothing at a time like this.

Better that than blowing the whole thing up by being hasty, though. You had learned that the hard way.

The passage widened, but not enough to sit face-to-face. So, agreeing with Jungkook, you joined him and sat at his side on the top step.

It was impossible not to feel his eyes on you. Or the weight of his arms from where he had hugged you, lingering like a phantom. Having him so close only teased what you had just felt, the gentle warmth where your shoulders brushed sending ripples over your skin.

“Your face,” Jungkook spoke, “it’s better.”

Swallowing, you lifted your head from the surface of your thoughts and back into his eyeline.

Sure enough, when you lifted a hand, there was no need for the trepidation in your fingertips. No pain returned your touch. The skin was totally smooth where Monsoon had broken it yesterday.

“This lifestyle does have some perks, then,” you shrugged.

Jungkook’s smile rewarded you.

“Hey, you wouldn’t change it for the world,” he retorted jokingly, elbow nudging your arm.

You gave a small chuckle, but it soon faded into a more distant smile.

“No,” you sighed. “I really wouldn’t.”

“That… that’s good.”

You had never really heard Jungkook fumble for his words like this before. Maybe his mind was elsewhere, like yours. Although ‘elsewhere’, in your case, was directly on him; you just couldn’t tell him that. Among all this chaos, it made no sense that he was the thing dominating your mind.

“Thank you for trusting me,” you offered into the newfound quiet.

Though Jungkook let the silence stretch out a little longer, one lone siren soaring through it, he found his voice eventually.

“I should have done it sooner.”

Turning to him fully, your heart threatened to burst again with the earnestness in his eyes.

“You did it at exactly the right time,” you shook your head, adamant, “and… it’s good to know I earned it. Just about, in any case.”

You couldn’t help the joke creeping in. Giving into your cowardice, you ducked with a self-depreciating laugh from the force of his gaze. A force all too soft for you to know what to do with. When he gave you fire, you could push back with something just as solid. But here, with his defences long abandoned, all you were met with was the terrifying prospect of falling right in.

“Hey!”

The hard edge that crept back into Jungkook's voice, surprising you with his ferocity, was almost a relief. But the spark in his eyes that trapped you in his stare wasn’t of anger. Something far from it.

“You’ve earned more than-”

His words choked off. It was only now you realised how breathless you were.

You were quickly giving in to the pull of his gravity, the words floating unsaid only dragging you in further.

Eclipsed by him as you were, you hardly registered the warbling siren that drew nearer outside, and passed by. All you could see was the way Jungkook’s eyes slipped treacherously downwards.

At the peak of the siren’s volume, he drew the smallest gasp, pushing himself away. Hands bracing on the step, he hovered, breathing harder now.

The way your heart lurched at the thought he might leave right now sealed your fate.

His eyes met yours with vaguely panicked apology. Before he even spoke, you had made up your mind.

“Sorry,” he breathed, “I shouldn’t-”

Some of the steely determination he always stirred up in you made itself known. You needed him to hear, to see how certain you were of this.

“I think you should.”

In one frozen moment, you saw the reservation flee from his eyes. Rising temptation replaced it. His own hunger terrified him, but yours matched it, always, since the beginning.

You felt the moment he gave in. Felt it in the fingertips on your jaw, the heat rushing through you- the lips on yours.

In one movement, Jungkook had allowed himself to fall, and fall he did. He surged towards you, taking your face between his hands, kissing you with a blistering urgency. The vigour in his movements drowned out all trace of caution, everything flung aside the instant you kissed him back.

He needed to feel you.

Your body sang against his, warmth erupting in your chest. Every move of his lips stirred it further. Supple, like the rest of him, their softness belied the power there which he had never hid from you.

You relished it, the exhilarating force making your head spin. And you gave back equal fire, too, grazing his lower lip with your teeth. It summoned an electric sound from his throat, a grunt that accompanied his hands roaming further, hungrily running down your back, tugging you onto him.

He tasted gold.

It was a taste you knew, from his powers when he had trained you, when he had rescued you- yet so tantalisingly new in the way he gave himself to you now, painting it in laves along your mouth.

His desperate sigh, ripped from his lungs, told you he was being ruined the same way you were from this kiss. And you weren’t ready for it to end. You had no idea how long you drank him in, surrendering like you had to no one else. Your world was lit only by the glow his every touch made bloom on your skin: his arms around you, his lips, his tongue pressing between them and making your eyes flutter back.

You had repelled each other for so long. Now, at last, you had given in to the magnetism, and you could no longer bear an inch of space between you.

Even as you split apart, panting hot across each other’s faces, you welcomed the way Jungkook kept you pressed flush against his chest. Dozens of times, you succumbed to each other’s pull again, lips colliding to indulge in a desperate one-more, becoming two and three and...

Each a brief, fruitless struggle to escape the force drawing you together.

It had been there all this time.

You drew back again, panting, in time to see a crackle of gold spark in Jungkook’s heavy-lidded eyes. It mingled with a jet of your own, reflected blue dancing with the gold in his iris.

Stiffening, you remembered all the times your power had turned him away. The way he had run from you when you last lost control. The dreadful truth he had told you last night, about what Bolt’s power had done.

But his hands only clawed over your sweater, dragging you nearer again as he stared up at you with such open eyes.

“Fuck,” his voice was raw, barely more than a ragged breath, “you were right, Y/N. They are beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Every time, you never expected Jungkook to stun you more. Of course, he outdid himself at every turn, leaving you scrabbling for words again, as you were right now.

Eyes drinking in your gaping expression, his loosened into a grin. The lazy shift into a deep, breathy laugh was like the sun coming out. You refused to look away.

You couldn’t refuse when his arm tugged you back against his chest, though.

Flopping there with a breathless laugh of your own, you closed your eyes, pushed your face against his neck. The energy to question this, to resist what had been building, had abandoned you, and you were ready to accept it.

How could you not, when his touch made you feel like this? When you had proved yourselves to one another time and time over?

You realised it all now, as you listened to the mingled sounds of your breathing with Jungkook’s.

You realised something else, too.

The sirens had stopped.

Thank you for reading!!! I appreciate all those lovely people who leave comments🥰💜

<prev | masterlist | next>

taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities @dvalities

@parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack

@oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife

@kokoandkookie @veemegatron @kookxin @seokout @jkayy

@peaaachpit @stxrrielle @welcometomyworld13 @ssexsellls @ramicherie

@jk5t4r @purplebeebs @nanjeonlangakook @wifflepuff1344 @ot7stansthings

@thesmeraldogirl @fr0ggieth1nk

[apteryxparvus]

L ♡ V E R ⇌ L ⦻ S E R — masterlist

Pairing — Musician Scaramouche / Female Reader

Genre — SMAU • enemies to lovers • fake dating

Status — ongoing

Content warning — mentions of bullying • alcohol • profanity • tba

Summary — In a twist of unfortunate events, you find out that being exposed as the target of Kunikuzushi middle school bullying escapades was just the beginning of your troubles. To your dismay, you’re thrown even deeper into the glamorous but artificial world of celebrities. Oh, and the cherry on top? You’re forced to pretend to be in a long-term romantic relationship with none other than said ex-bully. All because of a careless misclick by his social media manager.

Profiles — Y/N and the gang • 6reeze

Teaser

Chapter one — Let the witch-hunt commence

Chapter two — One raki, two raki... three raki?

Chapter three — Me and my big fat thumbs

Chapter four — In our exes to enemies to lovers era

Chapter five — Grande Belladonna iced tea with 4 pumps of “Please forget this ever happened”, please

Chapter six — My mama always told me if i don’t have anything nice to say…

Chapter seven — Who run the world? Girls.

Chapter eight — Murphy’s Law, not Murphy’s Hypothesis

Chapter nine — I only accept apologies in cash

Chapter ten — but like… why would you say that?

Chapter eleven — Sometimes you miss the memories, not the person

Chapter twelve — Saltier than the ocean

Chapter thirteen — Original family disappointment

Chapter fourteen — i deadass don't know how to respond

Chapter fifteen — tba

Extras — 4NEMO (6reeze album)

Author's note: first smau hehe, very excited to write it. I'm almost done with the semester, so I'm hoping to update twice/thrice per week. If anyone is interested in being added to a taglist, feel free to send a message ❤

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 10

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

WARNING: This is a long chapter

First - Prev - Next

Ch.10

“Do you remember how you came to Gravity Falls in the first place?”

“I was just passing by.”

“Yes, but this town is isolated, and you have no means of transportation.”

“Trainhopping, I was hiding on a train for two days I think, maybe three? Decided to jump off here.”

“Do you know why you decided to do that here, and not anywhere else?”

“...”

“Stan?”

“It’s funny, specs - a couple months back, I’d already been with my pal Rick for a while, right? Just one heist, escapade, or criminal venture after another, for seven months straight. And it was great while it lasted, but then he asked me if I wanted to stay with him in another dim- someplace far away. And I wanted to, ya know? There’s always been this itch in the back of my mind that I wanted to go around the world on some grand adventure, and he was offering that to me on a silver platter. But I told him no.”

“And why was that, Stan?”

“...It’s stupid.”

“I wouldn’t call any of your reasoning stupid, I’m not here to judge you.”

“...I always wanted to go on an adventure- but something was missing. It’s like- I dunno if it’s intuition or some spiritual mumbo jumbo, it’s like I’m looking for something. But I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“Do you have an idea what it could be?”

“A part of… me? I’m missing something. Not just my memories- but something else. I think I might have made a promise, I just… don’t remember what it was, or who I promised to. I guess I’ve been drifting around trying to find it.”

“And you felt it was in Gravity Falls?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. There’s something weird here… I just wanted to check this place out, is all.”

“I see. What did you say your relationship with this Rick was like?”

“You don’t need to be jealous, F. We were just friends. Okay, maybe we were kind of an item for a week at most, but that guy isn’t just self-destructive; he’s like a train that wrecks onto a freeway, he can never just destroy himself, he has to wreck the people around him too and create an absolute shit show. Even I have a limit with that shit.”

“You really need to stop putting yourself down like that, Stan. You only ever seem to say negative things about yourself, it ain’t good for you.”

“There isn’t anything good to say, stretch.”

“Don’t sell yourself one egg short of a basket, now. Y’know, your-. Uh, Stanford was telling me that you’re quite clever. He used a trick to get you down here in the first place, but he also said that he wouldn’t be able to trick you again.”

“I should have seen his fake-out coming… I’ll give it to him, it was a good one. But I’m not going to underestimate him, because crazy like his should never be underestimated. What’s he up to anyways? He went to that room that’s always locked.”

“That’s his private study. I believe he goes there when he wants to be alone.”

“...Didn’t he live by himself? Why did he already have that?”

“Can’t say, maybe it’s a quiet and calm space for him.”

(...)

“HE HAS RISEN BABY GIRL.”

“Bill, please stop calling me that. It’s unprofessional.”

“Come on Sixer, at least let the Goo Goo Dolls soundtrack play.”

“The what?”

“Ooop! My bad, it’s not 1998 or 2024 yet. How can I help you today, Fordsy? You haven’t called me in a few weeks.”

“There’s a mindscape I need to access.”

“Oh boy, it’s not usually you who wants to poke around other humans' brains, always prattling on about ethics and consent. What’s the occasion?”

“...You know everything I know when we’re in the mindscape, you already know the answer.”

“Yes, but I still want you to say it out loud. Clearly and concisely, so your dialogue can be read on screen.”

“... I need to get into the mind of my brother, Stanley. He has amnesia, and our leading theory is that it’s due to psychological trauma. But he has been through so much trauma we’re having trouble isolating the definitive event that would have started this.”

“And why wouldn’t he just share that with his beloved twin brother?”

“He does not remember me.”

“Oooh, then he is just like you! Isn't it just precious when twins are twinning?”

“I never forgot about him.”

“Oh Sixer… You might as well have.”

“Just take me to his mind, Cipher… Please.”

“Anything for you, baby boy!”

SNAP

(...)

“So your memories are only clear to a certain point?”

“Yeah. Rick found me wandering around the woods in a ‘catatonic state’, and snapped me out of it. Everything before that… I can remember being on the street, I can remember all the stuff I did, maybe out to a decade? But there’s a lot of holes, lotsa different names I used. And before the streets? Nothing.”

“And when did Rick find you in the woods?”

“What month is it?”

“June.”

“Last May - so about 13 months?”

(...)

“Okay Fordsy he hasn’t made a deal with me so we can’t go too deep, or his mental defenses are just gonna shove us out.”

“Bill, I already know that, why are you explaining it to me?”

“You know; doesn’t mean they know. Unless this is a re-read. In which case; welcome back. Glad you loved or hated it the first time.”

“You are… Beyond comprehension, Bill Cipher.”

“That’s what you love about me though.”

“You have my begrudging, professional respect.”

“From your aspec ass, that’s practically love.”

“Aspe-”

“Oooh! Lookie here, a memory door opened up. He must be opening up to someone right now. Let's barge in haphazardly.”

(...)

“Okay Stan, this might be difficult. But if you ever feel distressed, let me know and we can try grounding techniques okay?’

“You got it, F.”

“Now close your eyes, think back to when you and Rick parted ways.”

(...)

“Sanchez?! How does Stan know-.”

“You know this hilarious crossover character? I already know the answer, but for no particular reason I need you to tell me out loud how you know him.”

“His wife Diane was part one of my PhD programs. She was always so bright and pleasant, but her husband was a nightmare when she brought him around. He was always saying that school wasn’t for smart people, and rubbed his inventions and intelligence in our face.”

“And how is she these days?”

“She passed away from a garage fire a few years ago, her and her little girl. I almost sent him a condolences, but he was such an unpleasant asshole I could not make myself do so.”

“Come on Stan- think about it! You, me, Bird Person, Squanchy-  sci-fi adventures, drugs, bitches. Whattaya say? Let’s ditch this dimension, there isn’t anything for us here anymore.”

“Dimension-?”

“Shh, Fordsy, just let it play out.”

“I… I can’t Rick.”

“Why not?”

“There’s… something here.”

“Did you remember something?”

“I don’t remember who, but I think I’m looking for someone.”

“Stanny-Boy, we’ve been through this before. No one knows you, everywhere we’ve been, ‘cept for the fake names. You should just cut your losses.”

“Wherever we go, we go together.”

“What was that-?”

“Just the distorted voice of his subconscious. It’s probably not important.”

“I’m sorry. But there’s a piece of me missing, and I think it’s still here in this dimension somewhere.”

“You know your credits don’t have monetary value here.”

“I know.”

“And I can’t leave you a space cruiser. You’ll have to walk or steal a car.”

“Either is fine. I’ve done it before.”

“Stan… Are you sure?”

“Here. Take all my credits, you’ll get more out of it than me.”

“You want your dusters back?”

“Trade me.”

“Wait, you don’t want your transdimensional watch anymore?”

“If the pigs catch me, I don’t need them asking too many questions.”

“You know that doesn’t just give you dimensional coordinates and time zones, right? There’s a pulse wave in it that can shatter force fields.”

“Pft, what are the chances I’d ever need that?”

“Ooof, he really fumbled the bag there.”

“My muse, please.”

*Rick takes the watch and gives Stan a pair of brass knuckles*

“Thanks Rick… Hey, it was nice while it lasted.”

“Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“I hope you find that bastard, Prime. Give him the hell he deserves.”

“...Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll miss you too, pal.”

(...)

“Alright, how are you feeling Stan?”

“So far so good.”

“Okay, now let’s go further back. You said your first clear memory is when you met him, let’s go back to that.”

“I was in the back of his shi- iiitty car, I felt like I’d just smoked an entire carton of cigarettes, but in a bad way..”

(...)

“It just- stopped?”

“He’s remembering something else. Just look for another door.”

“Here we go.”

“Wha- where…?”

“Oh hey you’re awake.”

“-’re, you?”

“You’re one tough son of a bitch, y’know? Most of the people I tase end up dead, but you just passed out.”

“You… tased me? Are you a cop?”

“Hell no. I tased you because you attacked me in the woods. Damn near ripped my head off.”

“The woods..?”

“You were wandering around in a catatonic state, can’t tell you how long.”

“A what state?”

“This isn’t going anywhere. Can you tell me your name?”

“It’s…? I... Malone. Wait. It’s- Stan.”

“Stan Malone huh? My name’s Rick Sanchez.”

(...)

“Stan keep your eyes closed. I want you to try to remember what happened before this.”

“Alright…”

“What’s something you can remember? Something you saw, felt, heard?”

“My chest felt really tight…”

(...)

“What is this?”

“Ahh. A pit memory. This is something his brain wants to forget, but can’t permanently delete.”

“So it is a repressed memory?”

“Yes. He’s trying to think about it… but unconsciously, he really doesn’t want to.”

“What happens if we jump in?”

“Sixer, where's your sense of adventure? If it gets too dangerous I’ll just pull us out.”

“Do you swear?”

“Just gimme the word.”

“Which word?”

“Let’s go with ‘defenestrate’ this time.”

‘W̷̷H̷̷Y̷ ̷I̷̷S̷̷N̷'̷T̷ ̷I̷̷T̷ ̷W̷̷O̷̷R̷̷K̷̷I̷̷N̷̷G̷?! ̷W̷̷H̷̷Y̷-?’

S̷̷C̷̷R̷̷E̷̷E̷̷C̷̷H̷

‘̷C̷̷a̷̷n̷’̷t̷-’  

‘̷t̷̷r̷̷a̷̷p̷̷p̷̷e̷̷d̷’  

‘̷c̷̷a̷̷n̷’̷t̷ ̷b̷̷r̷̷e̷̷a̷̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷-’

*brief flash of a pile of burnt paper ash in Stan’s hands, which are shaking*

“We can’t stay here Fordsy, he’s closing up again.”

“Just one more second-!”

“Might as well, it’s [--- ---- ------ - ---].”

“[--- ---] going to die here. Stan[--- -------- -----], if you don’t [---- - ---- ---- --] in the next minute you will die.”

“That voice-?”

“We’re leaving now, Sixer! DEFENESTRATE!”

SNAP

(...)

“Stan? Stan calm down-! It’s okay! Remember where you are.”

“C-Can’t breathe-”

“Yes you can, just breathe with me. In- out. In- out. Just like that. There we go.”

“I’m sorry Fiddleford, I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t. ”

To be continued…

[koolades-world]

Spellbound Secrets

chapter ten: the human world

synopsis: The House of Lamentation caught fire one night, and you were the only one they recovered from the wreckage. The brothers were in the house as well when you went to bed that night, but they were nowhere to be found. The pact marks are faded, and seem to be getting more and more indefinite by the day. You and Solomon get to investigating but oddly enough, nobody can seem to remember the missing brothers. It’s up to you, with the help of Solomon, to find your beloved demons, lest you never see them again.

navigation: playlist | prologue | chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten (you are here!) | chapter eleven (coming next week) (if you're looking for all spellbound secrets content, such as chapters ahead of this one, head to my tags masterlist or simply look up the tag spellbound secrets!)

authors note: omg oops did not realize a whole month had gone by without an update! my bad lol. for some reason i only thought it was two week? oh well, we're back and better than ever now. did some more work on the plotline too. all i'll say is that i'm a sucker for troupes and hope that you don't mind if i sneak a few in haha. thank you for your patience!

To say you were eager would be an understatement. Upon hearing the news that you'd be leaving for the human world that day helped you shake off the excess sleepiness like it was nothing.

"What time are we leaving?" You sat straight up.

"I knew you'd be excited." Solomon chuckled. When you sat there, staring at him expectantly, he realized he hadn't answered your question. "How does after dinner tonight sound?"

"It's settled!" You hurried out of bed, and quickly began getting ready for the day. While it was a late start, it was still a start nonetheless. You finished getting ready quicker than you ever had before, and made your way downstairs to enjoy a late breakfast. Simeon was in the kitchen, doing the dishes.

"You slept in today." Simeon commented as you made yourself a cup of coffee.

"Everyone needs to have a lazy day." You shrugged. The angels didn't know about your escapade last night, and you hoped to keep it that way.

"It's a great feeling." He responded. "Luke wanted waffles for breakfast this morning, so leftovers are in the fridge. You'll see them when you open it." As he was walking by, he set down the coffee creamer and a spoon next to you.

"Thank you." You absentmindedly prepared your coffee the way you liked it, while mentally buzzing about what your trip might be like.

"Solomon told me about your vacation. Are you excited?" Simeon asked.

"Very. I love the Devildom, and it's amazing in it's own way, but I miss the human world. I miss the rising sun every morning, the food, the atmosphere, and just humans in general." It had been a moment since you'd seen the real sun. Before the fire, you'd had a lamp imitated the sun installed in your room that had been a gift from the brothers. You knew it wouldn't hold a candle to the real thing though.

"I understand the sentiment. I miss the Celestial Realm sometimes too. But, I've enjoyed my time here, and I've learned much thanks to the exchange program." Simeon nodded.

"I didn't know the Devildom existed until the moment I got teleported here." You laughed, recalling that confusing day. While it had been hectic, that was the day you met the demons that would change your life. Thinking of that day invigorated you, and had you more determined to find the truth.

"I remember that day like it was yesterday. Your expressions were so cute." Solomon, who'd presumably just entered the room, chimed in.

"You're just saying that." You turned your back to him to hide your smile.

"He's right. It was a winsome look on you." Simeon agreed. Solomon came up behind you and pinched your cheeks, lifting your mouth into bigger smile.

"You guys are too sweet. We were all in the same boat. Enough about that. Where's Luke?" You were desperate to leave that conversation topic behind.

"He's in the back garden. He's tending to the plants Barbatos gave him, and he's very determined to keep them healthy." Simeon pointed through the kitchen window. If you squinted, you could see the top of his hat behind some of the bushes.

"He doesn't know we're leaving yet, right?" Both men in the room shook their heads. "I should go tell him then." You set your mug down, and moved to head to the door before you were stopped.

"You might want to wait until later. He won't let your out of his site if he hears you're going to be gone longer than a few hours." Solomon chuckled.

"You're right. But, when are we going to tell him then? We can't just vanish on him." You asked.

"We can tell him tonight at dinner. We're leaving after that so we don't have to worry about grocery shopping until tomorrow." Solomon sounded oddly delighted at the prospect of grocery shopping. You, on the other hand, were much less enthusiastic. Cooking for both of you was one thing. Fending off Solomon from helping you was another.

"Alright. That's fine, I guess." You rubbed the back of your neck, picking at the wisps of hair.

"Do you still feel guilty?" Simeon could probably tell from the look on your face.

"Yeah. But, it can't be helped. Solomon, will you come help me pack?" When he raised an eyebrow at you, you elaborated. "I don't know anything about where you live, so I don't know what kind of clothes to bring. Plus, how will we coordinate our outfits?" You needled.

"Alright, I'll go with you." You could tell he'd given what you'd said some more thought. You actually wanted him to come with you so you'd be able to enter your room with his comfort. Solomon had been the one going in and out of your room to get what you needed from in there.

"We'll be back later." You told Simeon.

"Do you want your coffee?" The angel gestured to the cup you'd left sitting on the counter.

"Just leave it there. I'll finish it later." You waved him off. You knew you'd probably forget about it, but at least this way you'd feel a little less wasteful. With that, Solomon left the room and ascended the stairs, leaving you to trail behind him.

You weren't completely sure if you were ready to go back to your room yet, but you knew you had to try. You felt as if you'd made progress since the day you were discharged from the hospital. There was also things to be missed about your space.

As soon as Solomon cracked open the door, memories came rushing back in. You moved to the center of the room, welcoming the rush. While that feeling of everything about the room existing being wrong persisted, the familiar was like a warm hug. Solomon lingered in the doorway behind you. You made your way around the room, inspected things that caught your interest. They felt, and seemed exactly the way you'd last seen them. The only things that had seemed to be touched was your clothes drawers and closet. Everything was messier than you'd left it, but you could tell Solomon had tried his best to keep things tidy. You took a seat on your bed, and spent a while longer in silence, drinking in the sights.

"It's identical. I still can't believe this exists. This shouldn't be here." You hung your head.

"It's so odd. I can remember the original room, but I also remember this room." Solomon said gently. The two of you sat in the stillness for a while.

"I lost almost everything in that fire, and nobody even knows it." A smile filled with self pity formed on your face. Solomon seemed like he wanted to say something, but you held up your hand. "Before you protest, I'm glad I have you though. Where would I be without you?"

"Dead in a ditch somewhere?" He took a seat beside you on your bed, offering his not so helpful opinion.

"Sounds about right." You let out a snort as Solomon patted you on the back.

"Would you feel any better if I told you I had a surprise for you?" Solomon asked.

"Last time you said that, I turned blue for a week." You recalled that day. It was much funnier looking back on it now, but in the moment, you could've have thought closer to the opposite.

"This is a different surprise, I promise."

"If you say so." You tried your best not to sound convinced, but you were already looking forward to whatever he had planned.

"For this surprise, you're going to need a nice outfit." He chirped.

"Are you taking me on a fancy date?" You finally turned to him, interested in his expression.

"You'll see." His eyes sparkled. He had something big planned, and you were hoping it had nothing to do with his cooking.

"I'll get out my nicests outfits, and you can let me know which I should bring." You hadn't opened your closet since the House of Lamentation. You were a bit hesitant, but with everything else you'd endured, especially reentering your room, you felt that you had it in you to do what you needed to. The two of you had fun packing, and while you never fully forgot where you were, it was easier to brush it aside with Solomon at your side. Since it was the beginnings of winter in the human world, you packed lots of warm outfits. Devildom days were sweltering, and the nights were freezing. You were a little sad you wouldn't get to break out your summer pajamas, you were excited to wear all of your day to day winter clothes.

Once you were finished packing, you set the bag in Solomon's room next to his already packed bag. The two of you were ready to go. You were antsy, to say the least. It would be good for you to get out the house, and back to the human world. You spent the rest of the day sitting on your hands. At dinner, Solomon was the one to break the news to Luke. He looked upset, but took the news well. Rather than focus on eating, Luke insisted on holding your hand for the rest of the meal.

When it was finally time to go, Solomon suggested the both of you change to warmer clothes so you wouldn't be cold when you teleported to the human world. You bundled up, and happened to arrive downstairs faster than the sorcerer. Luke and Simeon were standing in the foyer, waiting for you.

"I'm going to miss you." Luke hugged you for what felt like the hundreth time.

"I won't be gone for too long. I'll be back before you know it." You squeezed Luke back as tight as you could.

"Are you sure you have to go?" He pleaded.

"Do you remember what Solomon said?" Simeon asked. You hadn't been told what their secret conversation was about, but you figured it must've been something on your surprise.

"I hope you have fun. It's exactly what I would want if I was you." While he still seemed sad, you could tell he was telling the truth. It made you think that little bit harder about what it might be. Your thought process was interrupted by Solomon plodding down the stairs. His large duffle bag was slung over his shoulder. A thick scarf was wrapped around his neck, and a long overcoat covered most of his body. It almost reminded you of what he usually wore, but it was very becoming of him.

"Ready, my dear apprentice?" He offered his arm to you. After repressing a smile, you took it.

"Stay safe, you two." Simeon waved. Luke joined in after wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. With a dramatic sweeping of his hands, he teleported the two of you to the human world. It was quite different to the teleport he'd made out of the catacombs of the House of Lamentation. They journey was smooth, and before you knew it, you were staring up at the sky instead of a ceiling.

"You're going to love my house." Solomon sounded excited. You looked up and saw house on top of a hill, surrounded by fields. It was dark, so you couldn't tell exactly surrounded the house, but as the two of you gazed at the house, a light popped on. From what you could see, the house seemed cute.

"It's not as cold as I thought it was going to be." You shivered.

"Take a guess as to what I'm growing." Solomon led you over to the nearest field. You leant over a fence, squinting.

"It's winter though." You wracked your brain for plants that could grow in conditions like this.

"Lean closer and take a deep breath." He urged you to figure out for yourself, rather than just tell you.

"Alright…" When Solomon asked you to smell something, it almost never ended well. But, you trusted him. So, you did as he asked. You could smell the crisp air, but once you got past the stinging, you smelt something that was all too familiar.

"Lavender. It's lavender." You glanced back at Solomon to see if your guess was correct. His grin told you more than enough. You reached forward and brushed the light dusting of snow off the plants. You saw the distinct purple flowers. "How are you growing lavender in winter?" When you stared at him in disbelief, he chuckled.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" You realized he was probably talking about his magical abilities.

"Let's talk about this tomorrow. I'm ready to get to bed." You swatted at his shoulder when he laughed at your oversight.

"Follow me then, dearest."

[mint-yooxgi]

{22} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

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

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Slight focus on Yunho, Mingi, San, and a tad of Yeosang and Hongjoong)

Words: 10,887

Warnings: Blood mentioned, minor violence. A real bad headache. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Finally, the moment I have been waiting for!! Ehehehe, I am so excited for the next chapter to come out since it’s what I've been planning since the beginning. The bombshell is finally here!!! I really hope you all enjoy this part and will look forward to the upcoming chapters. I have a lot planned! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty - Part Twenty-One - Mini Masterlist

Waking up with a headache is certainly not on your list of things to do today. Alas, as soon as you feel the edges of consciousness returning to you, you can feel a small pounding in your head. There seems to be one spot in particular that the pain radiates from, but it’s faint enough that you can ignore it for now. Besides, you have more important things to be focusing on.

The pillow you are resting on steadily rises and falls along with your every breath, a content hum sounding against your ear. You smile in response, subconsciously shifting closer.

Faintly, you register low laughter rumbling out from beneath you.

“You’ve been holding her all night,” you briefly hear Yunho’s low voice coming from beside you, feeling a hand resting on your lower back, who’s thumb strokes gently over your skin beneath your shirt.

“It’s not my fault she draped herself over me in her sleep,” you hear Mingi reply, somewhat giddily.

True to his words, you realize that you are quite literally laying half on top of him right now. Your head rests comfortably on his chest, arms wrapped securely around his torso as your one leg is tossed over his thighs.

A smile pulls at your lips as you hear his heart begin racing at the way you tighten your grip around him the slightest bit. You hum contently.

“Good morning, Starlight,” Mingi lightly trails the tips of his fingers over the side of your face, caressing you softly. 

“Good morning, Min,” you reply, voice low as sleep still clings to the edges.

“Did we wake you?” Yunho leans the slightest bit closer to you, and you can feel his one leg pressing up against yours beneath the sheets.

You shake your head, a soft ‘no’ leaving your lips as your eyes remain closed for the moment. You are more than content to continue laying in their embrace like this for the time being, seeing as you are much too comfortable to move.

“Did you sleep well?” Mingi asks, hand moving to cup your cheek tenderly as his thumb strokes gently over your skin.

A content hum leaves your lips as you nod. “Very.”

You shift the slightest bit, turning more to lay on your side and feeling just how close Yunho really is to your back as his chest presses against you. Slowly, your eyelids flutter open, looking up to see Mingi already staring at you with such a fond gaze.

Exactly three days have passed since your little escapade in the cinema room, and you’ve noticed how all of them have been that much more affectionate with you lately. If one of them doesn’t have their arm wrapped around your shoulders, or your waist, another is holding your hand, or resting theirs on the small of your back. You’ve taken the liberty to have one or more of them spend the night with you since the second day had passed, feeling the need to have the comfort of their presence with you as much as they have yours.

Which is exactly how you find yourself curled between both Mingi and Yunho right now.

“I always sleep better when I’m holding onto something,” you remind them, and you watch as a brilliant smile stretches across Mingi’s face.

“You can hold onto me for as long as you’d like, Starlight,” he leans in to place a tender kiss onto the skin of your forehead, loving the way you stare back at him with wide eyes as he pulls away.

Little do you realize the pout that Yunho wears behind you.

“I really appreciate that, Min,” you smile, hand coming up to rest on top of his chest for the moment. “You both seriously don’t know just how severely touch starved I am.”

“We’re all more than happy to hold you whenever, wherever you’d like, Petal,” Yunho keeps his voice low, placing a tender kiss onto the nape of your neck. “For however long you want us to.”

Now, a pout begins to pull at Mingi’s features as he watches you turn around in his arms to face his brother, much to Yunho’s content.

“Thank you, Universe,” a pleased hum escapes your lips as you curl yourself against his chest, tossing your leg over his waist in the next moment. “You too, Moonlight.” You turn your body just enough to look back at him from over your shoulder, noticing how Mingi's pout immediate softens into a small smile as he sees you gazing so fondly at him. “I appreciate you staying.”

“We wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” Mingi’s response is immediate, and you can feel both of their chests hum in content against you.

A soft smile pulls at your features as you reach behind you to grab Mingi’s arm, wrapping it around yourself, and tucking it into your chest as you turn back around to face Yunho once more. Immediately, Mingi follows your movements, chest pressing against your back as you curl yourself into Yunho’s embrace. You absolutely adore the way you can feel Yunho’s one hand settle onto the skin of your thigh, thumb stroking tenderly against you.

With your eyes fluttering shut, you allow yourself to absolutely revel in this moment with the two of them.

“I love you,” you hum out, lips tugging upwards slightly. “Both of you.”

Soft rumbles of contentment reach your ears from the both of them, feeling them hold you the slightest bit tighter within their embrace.

“I love you, Starlight,” Mingi breathes, hand squeezing yours tenderly as you continue to hold his against your chest. “More than words can describe.”

“And I love you, too, Petal,” Yunho voices lowly, a small smile gracing his features as he stares into your eyes. “More than anything.”

A gentle kiss is placed against the back of your head, curtesy of Mingi, just as you feel Yunho lean in to rest his forehead against your own. Not even five minutes later, and your breathing evens out, allowing yourself to succumb to sleep once more.

Some time later, you are awoken to the sounds of the two males bickering lowly yet again. It seems as if this time, you have released your hold on Mingi’s arm in favour of tossing your own over Yunho’s side. You can still feel Yunho’s hand pressing securely against your thigh, but you also feel another one just above his own, resting dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

Only, the elder of the two doesn’t seem to like that fact very much.

“Move your hand.” His voice rumbles out, shooting a pointed look at the younger from over the top of your head.

“No.” Mingi counters. “You move yours.”

“I was holding her first,” Yunho replies, quite pointedly.

“Yeah, and she’s now wrapped herself around you,” Mingi sounds just the tiniest bit bitter when he says this.

“Oh, boo-hoo. You spent the whole night having her rest practically on top of you.” Yunho retorts. “It’s my turn, now.”

“It’s not my fault I’m comfortable.” Mingi huffs, shifting his hand down your thigh and purposely pushing Yunho’s hand off of you.

“Well, now, so am I!” Yunho practically hisses back, shoving Mingi’s hand off of you only to replace it with his own in the next instant.

“Back. Off.” Mingi harshly whispers through clenched teeth, once more swiping Yunho’s hand away to place his own back onto your thigh.

“No, you back off.” Yunho replies, pointedly, smacking Mingi’s hand away in the next moment.

This goes back and forth for about another twenty seconds, vaguely hearing them keep smacking each other’s hands away only to replace the other’s with their own. You have half the mind to start giggling at their antics in your semi-awake state. That is, until you feel a small smack land on the side of your thigh.

You twitch in shock.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake- will you both knock it off?” You huff, eyes flashing open to see Yunho already staring at you with wide eyes.

“Way to go, genius, you ended up hitting her instead,” Mingi scoffs, and you can just tell he’s rolling his eyes at his brother.

“No thanks to you,” Yunho glares at the younger from over your head before turning his gaze to you. Immediately, his expression is softening, worry taking over his features. “I’m so sorry, Petal. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, you didn’t,” your answer has him nearly breathing a sigh of relief, “but seriously. Stop bickering, or else I’ll kick you both out and ask Yeosang to come stay with me instead.”

They both stiffen at this, sharing a narrowed eye look between each other.

This is all your fault. Mingi frowns, shooting a pointed look at Yunho.

Me? This is all because of you! Yunho replies, exasperatedly.

“You called?” The sound of Yeosang’s low voice draws your attention to the end of your bed.

“Great!” Mingi huffs, lips tugging downwards as he meets Yunho’s gaze. “Now look at what you did.”

“Me?” Yunho voices, incredulously. “How is this my fault?”

You briefly meet Yeosang’s gaze, and your exasperated stare says it all.

“I’m about to physically kick you both out of bed if you don’t stop arguing with each other,” you warn, shifting onto your back for the moment.

“He started it,” Mingi grumbles, that all too familiar pout back on his lips.

Your hands come up to rub at your eyes, still feeling that familiar throbbing within your skull.

“It’s too early for this,” you sigh, shaking your head teasingly. “Besides, I’m starting to get a headache.”

Immediately, worry takes over all three of their features.

“Are you okay, Petal? Do you want one of us to heal you?” Yunho gently places a hand onto your forehead, checking your temperature.

“I’ll be fine. I probably just need more sleep,” you assure him, placing your hand overtop of his own and pulling it off of your forehead. Then, playfully, you shoot two pointed looks at the men beside you, “which I would be doing if some people weren’t being big babies over who gets to hold me.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Yeosang standing at the foot of your bed with an amused look on his face. His one brow is quirked as he crosses his arms over his chest, grin tugging at his lips.

“Starlight,” Mingi whines, “you cannot blame us. We just love holding you in our arms.”

“And I love spending time with you guys, no matter the context,” you reply, feeling how the two males on either side of you shift the slightest bit closer into your sides as smiles tug at all of their features. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to continue to be surrounded by the people I love.”

“We can do that,” Yunho immediately replies, leaning his head into you so that his face is practically buried in your neck.

The corner of your lips tugs upwards as you settle deeper into your sheets. Only, the way you notice Yeosang seemingly starting to turn away from you to leave the room has a small pout pulling at your features.

“Where are you going, Yeosangie?” Your voice immediately draws his attention back to you to see you already staring at him with your lips tugging downwards dramatically. 

He quirks a brow in response.

Lifting your arms, you motion for him to join you with your hands outstretched in front of you. “Come here.”

Yeosang does not need to be told twice. Instantly, he’s crawling onto the bed and over your body, resting himself between your legs as his head settles onto your chest. The feeling of your arms wrapping around his torso is simply icing on the cake.

“I said I wanted to be surrounded by the people I love,” you hum, knowingly. Your one hand shifts to begin threading your fingers through Yeosang’s hair, and the hum of content you let out is synonymous with their own. “If any of you have a problem with this, you can leave.”

“Not at all, Starlight,” Mingi shifts that much closer into your side, hand coming up to rest on your one shoulder as he leans his head into yours.

“We are more than content to spend time with you like this,” Yunho adds, practically mirroring Mingi’s position on your opposite side.

“We love you, Dearest,” Yeosang’s voice rumbles out, turning his head to place a kiss directly over your heart and loving the way he can feel it flutter beneath his touch yet again.

“And I love you,” you hum, contently, allowing your eyes to fall shut. “All of you.”

A small silence settles over the four of you as you rest in each other’s embrace. The steady hum of your heartbeat begins to sync with all of their own, smiles pulling onto each one of their faces as they are more than content to rest like this with you for the moment.

You nearly let out a sigh in bliss. That is, until your eyes are flinging open in the next second.

“I have a problem.” Immediately, three worried sets of eyes are on you. You blink, somewhat sheepishly. “I need to pee.”

Five minutes later, and you’re back in bed with the three of them after freshening up in the bathroom. Again, a content sigh escapes you lips as you manage to fall back into the realm of dreams once more.

About an hour and a half later, you feel consciousness returning to your form. Luckily, all three of them are perfectly content to lay with you for a little while longer as you fully wake up, resting in each other’s arms for the time being. That is, until finally, you decide that you should actually get up and out of bed for the day.

“We have another council meeting soon, anyways,” Yeosang informs you, all three of them sitting on the edge of your bed as you change into some fresh clothes.

Sure enough, a few hours later, you walk into the foyer to see all eight of them wearing what appears to be white military style jackets with black pants.

As soon as you see them, you freeze in your spot, breath catching in your throat. Again, each style that they wear is unique to them, and you cannot help the way your gaze trails over every single one of their figures slowly.

“Okay, you all need to warn me if you’re going to look this good all the time,” you blink, attempting to control your thoughts for the moment.

At least a few of them, like Yeosang, Mingi, and Wooyoung, have the decency to look bashful. The others, however, have the gall to look smug, smirks pulling at their features.

“We’re just happy to know that we can affect you like this, Darling.” Jongho grins, smoothing out the front of his jacket.

“Is this how you all felt seeing me in a corset? Cause if so, I understand.” You nod subtly, eyes continuing to trail over their figures slowly.

This time, all of them cannot stop themselves from smiling.

“Seriously, you all look very handsome,” you continue.

“Thank you, Gorgeous,” Wooyoung can barely stop himself from shaking in happiness, a brilliant smile stretching across his features as he continues to stare at you from across the room.

“I kid you not-“ your breath catches as if you’ve realized something. “Wait,” a devious grin pulls at your lips as you drop to your knees in an instant, hands outstretched in front of you for emphasis, “I am on my knees.”

“Petal,” Yunho chuckles, a pride unlike any other swirling within his chest as you continue to joke around with them. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?” Your wide eyed gaze locks with his own. “Have you seen yourselves?”

Collectively, they all share a look between one another, brows quirked as a smugness washes over all of them.

“My fucking word, how do you expect me to survive when you all look like this?” You go on to say, swooning once more dramatically as you stand back to your feet.

Instantly, San has you in his arms, holding onto you as if you fainted right into his embrace. The cheeky grin you can see pulling at his lips has one of your own tugging at your features.

“Uh-oh, if you’re not going to survive, perhaps someone should stay back and watch over you,” he chuckles. “And by someone I mean me.”

“Like hell you’ll be the one to take care of her. Alone,” Jongho crosses his arms in front of his chest.

The two glare at each other for a moment, and you cannot help but chuckle, righting yourself back onto your own feet, much to San’s disappointment.

“Nah, Yunho’s right,” you smile. “I’m just being dramatic. I’ll be fine.”

At the pout San gives you, you’re quick to pat the side of his arm reassuringly. Then, in the blink of an eye, you’re gripping the side of his jaw so you can lean in to place a kiss onto his cheek.

The giddy smile you receive from him in response is immediate, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he giggles.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you pat his arm once more, stepping out of his embrace and sending a final wave to all of them.

Just as you watch them disappearing from view, you hear Wooyoung whining about how he wants a good luck kiss from you as well. Though, from the looks on all of their faces, he’s not the only one thinking the same thing.

You chuckle to yourself as soon as you’re alone, shaking your head lovingly at their antics. However, just as you go to turn around, you hear someone reappear behind you. Glancing up, you notice Mingi making his way towards you quite steadily from a few feet away.

“I forgot something,” he mumbles, coming to stand right in front of you.

You simply quirk a brow at him in response. “What did you forget?”

Briefly, his eyes search your face for any sign of discomfort or hesitance. At the way he can see a grin tugging at your features, he knows that there is none.

“This.” 

Instantly, he has his arm wrapped around your waist as he pulls you flush into his chest. His lips gently find purchase on your own, a content rumble vibrating in his chest as he feels your hands wrap around his back, pressing him even closer into you.

Slowly, he pulls away, resting his forehead against your own. His eyes remain closed, absolutely revelling in this moment with you as he holds you to him, his hand splayed on the small of your back. At the way you lean in to peck his lips once more, smiling all the while, he can feel his heart absolutely fluttering in his chest.

“Better?” You giggle, your one hand coming up to cup the side of his cheek as your thumb begins to stroke gently over his skin.

“Better.” He confirms, a slight nod to his head as that giddy smile takes over his features. “Though, I should probably get back, now.”

“Be safe, Moonlight,” you lean in to peck his lips once more.

“I promise to return to you without a scratch,” he says, moving the slightest bit away from you as he allows his touch to linger on your skin for as long as possible.

“You better,” you teasingly poke his chest. “The only one allowed to leave scratches on you is me.”

A low growl graces your ears as he immediately pulls you flush against him for the second time in the past five minutes. “You’re giving me too many ideas, Starlight. Are you trying to make it that much more impossible for me to leave you?”

“I’m just informing you of what is still yet to come, Moonlight,” a sultry grin pulls at your lips, and you watch him swallow.

“One word.” He breathes. “One word, Starlight, and you won’t have to worry about being alone this evening at all.”

His voice is nothing but a low drawl as he stares deeply into your eyes with a hooded gaze. You can feel the growl building in his chest, low and primal, as his look continues to darken with every passing second. He licks his lips.

Just as he goes to lean in for another kiss, the clearing of someone’s throat behind you has you freezing in your tracks.

“Mingi, let’s go.” Seonghwa’s voice is low, pointed, as the eldest glares at the younger’s back.

Heaving a great sigh, Mingi is quick to be the one to peck your lips this time. “Until next time, Starlight.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Mingi pulls himself away from you as Seonghwa watches on with a scrutinizing gaze. A pout pulls at the younger’s lips as he trudges over to where the eldest stands with his arms crossed. A frown rests on Seonghwa’s features, eyes pointedly locked on Mingi’s figure as he stops just beside the elder male.

Seonghwa immediately turns to look at you, gaze softening as his shoulders relax. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“Alright, Mars,” you smile softly, blinking once. “Be safe, My Kings.”

The pleased growls that echo throughout the room as they disappear have your smile widening, noticing how they both had nodded once firmly before leaving you to your own once more.

A moment later, your head throbs, and you cannot help the way you hunch over. Your one hand comes up to cradle the side of your temple, feeling that one spot pinch quite harshly in pain. Squeezing your eyes shut, you attempt to catch your breath.

Seems as if this headache won’t leave you alone. Oddly enough, you’ve noticed them becoming worse over the past few days, always lingering in the back of your mind. Perhaps you should get one of them to heal you once they get back. This is really starting to get annoying.

Meanwhile, Mingi gets an earful from all of them as soon as both he and Seonghwa reappear in the throne room. Though, from the way that lovestruck smile tugs at his features, they know he doesn’t really care all that much about what they’re saying to him. Going back to see you without the others was absolutely worth it, even if they’re reaming his ass out right now.

Then, Mingi blinks, a knowing quirk to his brow. “Don’t we have a council to attend?”

Yeosang sighs, exasperatedly.

“This isn’t over,” Wooyoung grumbles, shooting a pointed glare at his brother.

A minute later, after they’ve all composed themselves properly, and Mingi has straightened out his blazer once more, the eight of them are finally entering the grand hall. All of them are ready to start this council, and get it over with as quickly as possible. Besides, they have more important matters to deal with, like who will get to spend the night with you.

As soon as their figures breach the doorway, all bodies in the room are bowing to them in respect. With a flick of his wrist, Hongjoong motions for them all to rise from their knees, beginning this meeting without another thought.

“Any word from our allies?” Hongjoong’s eyes scan the crowd, simply waiting for someone to step forward with news for all of them.

“The harpies have agreed to support us in any upcoming battles,” Jax informs them all after bowing his head lowly. He takes a small step forward. “The Three Sisters have pledged their allegiance once more to the Eight Kings.”

“That’s good news,” Yunho observes casually, an impressed nod to his head.

Yeah, probably cause they’re hoping to bed Hwa again, Jongho snickers quietly, acting all innocent in the next second as the eldest turns to glare at the youngest.

“We have managed to infiltrate one of the rebel’s hideouts,” another demon, Vera, adds as she steps forwards. She bows her head in respect as she continues. “We have heard plans that Malik plans to attack the throne in the upcoming weeks once he’s gathered enough forces. The sirens have already betrayed us, pledging their allegiance with the crown traitors.”

“What of the gorgons?” Wooyoung raises a brow, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“We are still waiting upon their response, My King,” Jax replies, eyes briefly darting up to meet Wooyoung’s own.

“Any word on Dimitri’s movements, yet?” San asks the room, noticing how some of the demons shift in discomfort at the mention of the warlock’s name.

“One source states they saw him and his hunters around the coast of The Forbidden Lake,” Vera states.

“That would make sense, given the siren’s betrayal,” Yeosang mumbles, furrow to his brow.

“Another has sworn they saw both him and Miyeon gathering their forces outside of The Crystalline Caves two days ago.” Jax adds, and immediately, all eight Kings stiffen.

“And no one thought to inform us of this potential sighting?” Seonghwa states, quite pointedly.

“Our deepest apologies, Your Majesties,” Jax bows deeper, along with Vera. “We only learned of such a sighting today.”

“Tighten up your watches, then,” San retorts, brow furrowing even further. “There is no room for error, or misinformation when the safety of Your Queen is at risk.”

A murmur washes over the crowd, and all eight of them straighten as their eyes flash.

“Silence.” Hongjoong’s voice booms out across the room. “What is the meaning of such whispers?”

Otis takes a step forward. “You’ll have to forgive us, Your Majesties. Some of us cannot help but question the validity of such a human, given that we have never seen sight, nor heard no sound from her before.”

All eight of them seem to grow in their spots, forms towering over the gathered council as the lights begin to flicker around the room.

“Are you questioning our integrity?” Jongho’s voice rattles the entire room, the deadliest of snarls escaping each of their throats.

“No, My King,” Otis is quick to shake his head, “Never.”

“It would serve you all well to remember just who is standing before you at this very moment.” Seonghwa’s voice is low, ominous, as his stare pierces each soul standing around the room.

“We have stood as your Kings upon these thrones for millennia,” Yeosang spits, eyes wild as he tilts his chin the slightest bit upwards, staring down his nose at all of the demons before him. “Never once has our kingdom been in such a disarray, and all because of your daughter.”

“A rebel uprising has breached the horizon,” Wooyoung’s eyes narrow as he begins to list off everything that has occurred in the past few months alone.

“Dimitri has come out of hiding,” Mingi adds, gaze firm as he stares down upon the man before them all.

“The dragon’s nest, one of our oldest and closest of allies, has been attacked,” Jongho spits, quite harshly.

“The siren’s have betrayed us,” Yunho’s voice rumbles out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And a war is coming.” San finishes, fists clenched at his sides.

“Remind us again of just who we should be questioning, Otis.” Hongjoong’s voice is dangerous, eyes flashing black as his soul begins to call for blood. “Your daughter is set to destroy us all, and you’re not even concerned in the slightest.”

“My King, that’s not true-“

“Then where is she? What are you hiding from us?” Yunho rounds on the male, eyes blazing as he stares Otis down. “Your incessant need to protect her has already caused tremendous losses to this kingdom. She will not hesitate to betray you in the slightest when it comes down to it, so why do you insist on keeping her hidden?”

“I am not-“

“Don’t lie to me!” Yunho commands, voice loud enough to rattle the very walls of the chamber they all reside in as he stands to his full height. “I have seen your mind, Otis, you cannot hide from the truth.”

The male’s eyes go wide, breath hitching in his throat as he feels Mina step back from him in shock.

“Father, tell me it isn’t so!” She gasps, staring on at him in horror. “Tell me you have not been aiding that blood traitor!”

He turns to look at her, eyes pleading for her to understand. There’s no point in him trying to hide it now, the Kings all now know the truth. “I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you girls.”

“You lie.” Mina recoils from his touch as he goes to reach for her.

“I thought I raised you better than that,” he tuts, shaking his head, his demeanour changing instantly. “Family is more important than anything. You know this!”

“Not when the lives of everyone we know are at risk!” Mina retorts, continuously backing away from her father. “How could you not see how selfish you’re being?”

“Do not speak to me about selfishness, daughter,” Otis spits, turning back to face the eight Kings standing before the entire room. “The Leaders you are so willing to defend over your own flesh and blood know firsthand how selfish one can be.”

Wooyoung nearly lunges for the man right then and there, but his Captain beats him to it. Gripping Otis by his throat, Hongjoong raises the man into the air, perfectly mirroring the exact same position he was in with Miyeon all those weeks ago.

“Watch your fucking tongue before I carve it from your throat.” He hisses, fingers squeezing that much firmer into Otis’ neck.

Immediately, the male begins to claw at the hand around his throat, legs dangling loosely in the air before the entire council as Hongjoong’s eyes flash.

“My daughter was right,” Otis manages to hiss out, eyes glaring intensely at the eight males before him. “Since when to Kings submit to dirt?”

Mina gasps once more, “father!”

“You should have joined us sooner, Mina,” his eyes briefly glance in his daughter’s direction. “It’s time for a New World to reign supreme.”

Blood begins dripping onto Hongjoong’s hand from how tightly he’s squeezing Otis’ throat, fingers digging harshly into his flesh as he bares his teeth in a snarl.

Otis drops his one hand back to his side, something glinting in the light.

“Long live the Queen.” 

In a flash, Otis attempts to stab Hongjoong with a blade. Except, he doesn’t get very far, the dagger clattering to the ground as Hongjoong tears the male’s throat out in the next second.

A deadly silence fills the room as every demon watches on with wide eyes. Mina stands with her hands covering her mouth, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“Anyone else like to make a statement?” Wooyoung challenges as eight sets of eyes flash black at the surrounding council members.

The stillness is so consuming within that room that none dare breathe for fear of incurring the wrath of their Kings. A moment passes. Then another, and another. Each King silently daring anyone to attempt such stupidity as Otis just has before their very souls.

When no one moves, Hongjoong is finally speaking once more.

“Leave us.” His voice commands, gaze piercing as he scans the room.

Instantly, every single demon that was in the room disappears. All except for Mina, who is currently trapped within Jongho’s grip as he drags her in front of all of them.

“Please, My Kings, I had no idea that my father would do something like this,” she begs, tears still streaming down her eyes as she watches Hongjoong toss Otis’ lifeless body aside like it’s nothing.

“Has your sister attempted to contact you recently?” San asks, tone firm and leaving no room for argument.

“Yes.” Her reply is instant. “But I swear to you, I never believed in a word she said. I don’t like who she’s become. I’ve never liked how twisted she could be. Search my mind if you have to. I swear that I never followed her. I never once have, and I never will.”

“What did she want?” Yeosang narrows his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares her down.

“She begged me to join her cause, pleaded for me to feed you false information every council meeting,” she explains, fearful gaze darting from one male to the next. “She wanted me to follow her, revelling her as my true Queen once she claimed her King.”

“Claimed her King?” Mingi quirks a brow, and they all notice how her eyes flash briefly over to Yeosang.

“What is she planning?” Seonghwa takes a step forward, watching as she trembles within Jongho’s hold as he does so.

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head.

“Do not lie to us.” Wooyoung’s eyes flash wildly as he takes his own threatening step towards her.

“Please, I don’t know!” She cries. “Search my mind. It will tell you all I know, I swear!”

Seven sets of eyes turn to look at Yunho who has been doing just that this whole time.

“Your sister and you talked the other day.” He begins.

“That is correct.” She confirms, a shaky nod to her head.

“She propositioned you to join her,” he continues.

“She did.” Mina confirms again.

“She told you about being aligned with Malik and Dimitri.” Yunho states, yet again.

“She told me that she has many uses for them.” She replies.

“What uses?” Jongho presses, hissing lowly in her ear.

“Ones that will guarantee her victory, even after death.” Mina says, eyes suddenly glazed over as she blinks, staring blankly before her.

“Which are?” Mingi pushes, frown pulling at his features.

“Ways in which solidify her chances of a New World.” Again, she blinks, somewhat dazedly.

A moment of silence passes over them, and they all notice how Mina has gone slightly limp in Jongho’s hold.

It’s no use, she’s been charmed. Yunho informs them.

Charmed? Slight worry is clear on San’s features as he turns to look at his brother.

As far as Mina believes, she is telling the truth, Yunho sighs. There are portions of her memory purposefully left blank, meaning someone has tampered with them. Normally, I’d be able to unweave the tangled mess that is her thoughts, but each time I get close, I begin to get burned. Someone has enchanted her memories, and my best guess is it was Dimitri.

How do we undo the spell? Wooyoung spares a glance at Yunho out of the corner of his eyes.

We can’t, unless we can find an equally as powerful warlock to undo the enchantment. If I try any harder, I’ll kill her, and then we’ll never know what Miyeon has planned. Yunho explains, a hint of frustration to his words.

For fuck’s sake, Seonghwa curses, along with his brothers who verbalize their discontent for the moment. This day just keeps getting better and better.

I’ve gotten everything I need to know from her for the moment, so there’s no point in holding her hostage any longer. Yunho nods once at Jongho, who immediate releases his hold on Mina. She stumbles slightly before righting herself, her eyes immediately shining with worry as that vacant expression falls from her features. She’s not a threat to us right now.

How can you be so sure? Mingi turns to face his brother, concern shining in his own eyes.

If she was, Miyeon wouldn’t have gotten Dimitri to seal off her memories. I have a feeling that Miyeon knows that Mina would have come running to tell us everything she knew as soon as she could, given how her memories have been locked off. Yunho tells them, seeing his brothers nodding along to his words.

“Alright,” Hongjoong sighs, eyes briefly flashing towards Mina as she stands there with her head bowed for the moment. “If you remember anything else, or if Miyeon attempts to contact you again, you immediately send word to us. Until then, you’re dismissed.”

Mina nods her understanding, slowly moving over to her father’s corpse and hoisting it upon her shoulder.

“My Kings, I may not know much, but I do know my sister,” she turns to face them one final time. “Whatever she has planned, she will act soon, and she will strike hard. Please, be careful, and protect Your True Queen.”

A nod is all she receives from Hongjoong in response. Faintly, their lips all twitch upwards as they transport themselves back to their domain for the time being.

As soon as they appear in the foyer, they see you trudging across the room slowly with a glass of water in your hand. Your slipper clad feet drag across the floor as you turn your head to lazily glance towards them out of the corner of your tired eyes.

Immediately, you straighten, eyes zeroing in on the blood splattered on Hongjoong’s white jacket. Your throbbing headache seemingly slips your mind for the moment as concern begins to consume you..

You raise a worried finger as you scurry closer. “Why is there blood only on you?”

You practically shove the other seven out of the way to begin inspecting Hongjoong’s torso, noticing a slight tear in the fabric where something sharp must have cut him. Luckily, it doesn’t seem as if any of it is his blood.

“I’m fine, My Love,” he chuckles, absolutely revelling in the way you glance up at him with nothing but worry in your eyes as you continue inspecting his torso.

“Good.” You sigh in relief as you straighten, sparing a glance around at all of them. ”Are you all okay?”

The feeling of someone wrapping themselves around you from behind causes you to nearly stumble forward. A chin rests on your shoulder.

“We’re all fine, Baby,” San grins, nuzzling his head against yours affectionately as he squeezes his arms around your waist. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”

San can feel the way you physically relax in his arms, loving the way one of your own comes to rest overtop of his in the next second.

“Thank fuck,” you breathe out another sigh in relief. Then, your eyes are drooping once more as your head begins to throb, reminding you of the pounding headache you haven’t been able to break lately. A headache which only seems to be getting worse by the second. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.”

Slowly, you manage to pull yourself out San’s grip, beginning to trudge back down the hallway and to your room. You can feel all eight of their gazes on you, not even registering in your mind how they look on in concern.

“Dearest, are you alright?” Yeosang takes a step towards you, prepared to follow after you in a heartbeat as worry consumes them all. Never have any of them seen you like this before.

You can only manage a faint hum in response, muttering something about just being ‘tired’.

They all spare a glance between one another.

“Has your headache gotten worse?” Yunho’s brow tugs downwards in a frown as he begins to follow after you.

You falter slightly in your step, turning your head to nod at him from over your shoulder. Your eyes barely remain open, grip deadly around the glass of water in your hand. Your whole body begins to tremble.

Instantly, Yunho and Hongjoong are both at your side as the others rush over to you. Yunho once more brings his hand up to rest it over your forehead, doing whatever he can to ease the pain for the moment. It helps, if only briefly, for as soon as he removes his hand, your head throbs even worse than before.

A hiss escapes you as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Again, Yunho places his hand onto your forehead, and the relief you feel is instantaneous. Yet, every time he pulls his hand away, that ache returns, even stronger than before.

“Something’s wrong,” he mutters lowly, nothing but concern etched onto his features as they all continue to surround you.

“It’s not-“ your voice comes out much weaker than before as your eyes remain shut, as if the light is too much for you to handle right now. You swallow, “not the first time… migraine.”

Your entire body begins to sway, and it takes no time at all for San to be grabbing the glass of water from your hand as Yunho scoops you into his arms. All of them begin to walk the short distance to your room, hearts racing as fear floods their veins. It should have taken Yunho no time at all to heal your headache, but the fact that it keeps returning as soon as his hand is removed from your forehead means that there’s something very wrong.

Laying you gently beneath the covers, Yunho sits on the edge of your bed. Again, his hand is once more placed on top of your head, easing the pain as much as he can for the moment as he attempts to figure out what exactly is going on. Your mind appears to be fine, nothing out of the ordinary as your void ripples with every small incursion they give it. Only, that mist they provided for you seems to be the thinnest its ever been.

Your whole body jolts as you feel something cool being pressed to your forehead in the next second. Cracking your eyes open the slightest bit, you see Hongjoong leaning over you on the opposite side. Worry tugs at his features as he holds a damp cloth to your head, feeling for himself how your mind seems to physically struggle against the pain for the moment, even as he aids Yunho in his attempts to heal you.

A whimper escapes your lips as your feel that little point of pain you’ve always felt whenever you get headaches recently begin to pulsate. The spot seems to radiate inwards, as if someone is hammering an ice pick into the back of your skull. With each pulse, the pain goes deeper, and you find yourself squeezing your eyes shut as you cling onto your blankets for dear life.

“Yunho-“

“I’m trying.” His blunt reply ends up cutting off Yeosang’s worried tone, each male surrounding you instantly.

You vaguely register the feeling of more hands gently placing themselves in multiple places on your body. Your head begins to feel as if someone is severely compressing the sides of your skull in hopes to pop your brain out of the top. Of all the migraines you’ve ever had, you’ve never had one this intense before.

A single tear begins to trail down your cheek from the pain as your eyes remain closed. Even the darkness of your room isn’t helping the ache behind your eyes for the moment, nor is the damp cloth Hongjoong keeps pressed to your forehead. You have no idea what they’re doing, but whether or not they’re trying to take your pain away now is unbeknownst to you. Even if they are, you don’t think it’s making the slightest difference, anyways.

Yunho begins to pant, eyelids long having fallen shut as he focusses all his energy into finding whatever is wrong with this migraine of yours. Normally, it should have been healed at the first touch of his hand to your head. Given the fact that all of his brothers are aiding him with the healing, you shouldn’t be feeling any pain. The fact that your symptoms only seem to be getting worse means that this is no ordinary headache.

The only problem is, he can’t seem to find anything that’s wrong. Nothing that he can see within your mind should be causing you such intense pain. Even when he feels his brothers probing your mind, he can tell that they don’t find anything, either. The only thing he can think of that might make it better at this point is if he gave you some of his blood.

Then, as if the entire world goes quiet, the pain stops.

Instantly, your entire body is relaxing, a subconscious sigh of relief being exhaled through your nose. The way your void ripples within your mind seems to ease the pressure even more, the flow of the water ebbing away the lingering pain.

Funny. It feels as if someone has dropped a stone into your void, causing the ripples to form as you feel it begin to sink into the vast expanses of your mind.

Finally, you’re able to catch your breath as you fall into unconsciousness almost immediately afterwards.

A moment of silence passes over all of them as some of the tension eases from their shoulders.

“What the fuck just happened?” Wooyoung looks between all of his brothers, panic clear on his features.

“I don’t-“ Yunho blinks, his heart pounding in his chest as he cups the side of your face in his one hand, “I don’t know.”

They all share a look between one another. Never before has something like this occurred. Always, they’ve been able to heal or cure any ailment instantly, especially of the inner mind or body. So, to not be able to help you in the slightest, and seeing you suffering and in pain, consumed them with a fear unlike anything they’ve ever felt before. The fact that none of them could pinpoint what was wrong scared them like you would not believe.

Yeosang’s whole body begins to shake, his breathing uneven and heavy.

“This has Miyeon written all over it.” His voice trembles as he can barely get out the words as anger consumes him.

“It should be impossible,” Yunho shifts his attention from his brothers back to you, fingers pressing a little firmer into the side of your face as he stares down at you with nothing but worry shining in his eyes.

“It should,” Hongjoong agrees, shifting slightly so that he’s sitting beside you on the bed instead of kneeling on top of the mattress for the time being. “Doesn’t mean that it is.”

“How could she get passed our defences?” Jongho’s brow furrows, beginning to pace at the end of your bed to dissipate some of the adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

“Hang on, we don’t even know if it is her,” San attempts to reason, but at this point, he doesn’t know if he’s saying this more to reassure himself or his brothers.

“It could have just been something else,” Mingi suggests.

“Poison?” Seonghwa glances at Wooyoung.

“I don’t think so,” the younger male shakes his head. “I didn’t smell anything, and I doubt she could have gotten her hands on something strong enough to do that to her. Especially not in this house. The only way to be one thousand percent sure is for me to taste her blood.”

“She’s not awake to consent to that,” Yeosang states, doing whatever he can to keep his arms from trembling again for the time being.

“I doubt it’s poison,” Hongjoong shakes his head. “Either way, Yunho and I will stay with her, and make sure nothing happens like this again. We’ll call for you if anything happens.”

“Hongjoong-“ Seonghwa begins, only to be cut off by his Captain.

“Look,” Hongjoong sighs, “we’ve all had a long night, and a lot has happened. Crowding her is probably the last thing that’ll be good for her right now. We’ll watch over her, and make sure she’s alright.”

“If anything happens-“

“You’ll all be the first to know,” Hongjoong cuts San off, a tight smile pulling at his lips.

A long sigh escapes the eldest’s mouth before he’s nodding his head in understanding. “Come on, let’s let her rest.”

Each male finds it extremely difficult to tear themselves away from you for the time being. Wooyoung, San, Mingi, and Jongho all end up having to be ushered out by both Seonghwa and Yeosang, even if the two of them are reluctant to leave you alone. At least they all know that you’re in good hands.

Morning comes with the faintest of light trickling in through your windows. The curtains sway as the gentlest of breezes drifts through the room. The only sounds that can be heard are the steady breaths of all three of you as each male curls into either side of you.

Slowly, consciousness returns to your form. You can feel someone’s arm resting across your stomach, while another is draped over the top of your chest, just below your neck. Your head seems to be cradled in someone’s embrace, their fingers gently rubbing at the side of your temple and helping you to relax. In the next moment, your eyes blink open.

The sight that greets you as you turn your head doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. The last thing you remember before passing out last night was all eight of them surrounding you in bed, Yunho holding onto you while sitting on your right, while Hongjoong was on your left, pressing a damp cloth onto your head. So, when you see Yunho being the one cradling your head in his arm, and Hongjoong being the one draped over your left side, you realize that they must have stayed with you after everything that happened last night. At least it looks like they changed their clothes.

“Petal,” it’s Yunho who notices that you’re awake first, and you can hear the concern clear in his tone as he looks at you. “How are you feeling?”

You shift only the slightest, bringing your hands up to rub at your eyes for the time being. As soon as your vision clears, you notice the both of them staring at you in worry.

Blinking once more, your brow furrows slightly. “Honestly, I feel fine. Whatever you did last night worked. I don’t have a headache anymore.”

The instant way they both breathe a sigh of relief has your lips quirking up the slightest bit in the corners.

“You really scared us last night,” Hongjoong says, bringing a hand up to trace the side of your face gently.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a migraine like that before,” you reply, sitting up in bed and noticing how they both mirror the movement.

“We’re just glad you’re okay.” Hongjoong breathes.

“Does your head feel any different?” Yunho asks gently. “Your mind?”

You take a moment to think, visualizing that all too familiar void and noting nothing out of place or out of the ordinary.

“No,” you shake your head. “Like I said, I feel fine now.”

Little do you notice the way tiny bubbles seem to float to the surface beneath your void, right where that stone you felt sinking into the depth of your mind fell.

“Good,” Hongjoong nods, his hand finding purchase on the small of your back.

“The moment you feel another headache coming on, you let one of us know,” Yunho tells you, his own hand settling onto your upper back, right between your shoulder blades.

“I will,” you nod. “I promise.”

Both males seemingly nod in agreement.

Just then, you see your door slowly open, Wooyoung, Jongho, and San all peeking their heads in. Almost immediately when they see you sitting up in bed, they’re all rushing into your room.

“You’re up!” Wooyoung practically jumps onto the bed, nearly tackling you in his embrace as you fall back onto your pillows with a small ‘oof’ escaping your lips. “We were so worried.”

You manage to raise your one arm to pat him on his back slightly before both Yunho and Hongjoong are tearing the younger male off of your form.

“Fucking hell, Wooyoung, don’t just bulldoze her the first thing in the morning.” Yunho scolds him as the others appear in your room.

You chuckle as you notice him pout while now kneeling at the end of your bed, “I’m okay, now.”

“Are you feeling better, Dearest?” Yeosang steps closer, eyes flitting all over your face as you sit back up in bed.

“Much,” you nod, a soft smile gracing your features. “Thank you for taking care of me last night.”

“Of course, My Love,” Hongjoong’s hand is once more on the small of your back, gently caressing you all the while.

“How did the council go?” You ask, and you notice them all stiffen the slightest bit around your room.

“We learned quite a bit of information,” Mingi informs you, quick to explain every new detail that came to light last night.

“I see.” You blink, swallowing thickly as you turn to look at Hongjoong beside you. “So, that’s why you came back covered in blood? Because someone tried to kill you?”

“Fear not, My Love,” he smiles softly at you, hand coming up to caress the side of your face as he sees the worry shining within your eyes. “You will find that I am not that easy to kill. None of us are.”

Subconsciously, you find yourself breathing a sigh of relief.

“It’s not the first time someone has tried to murder us at a council, and I’m sure it won’t be the last,” Jongho chuckles, clearly amused at the situation.

“So, it’s a common occurrence?” Your brow furrows.

“More often than not, but less often than you would think.” San hums.

Again, you blink, nodding slightly along to his words.

A moment later and a little black blur darts into the room, jumping onto your bed in the next second and crawling right into your lap.

“Oh, well, hello Sir,” you chuckle, immediately raising a hand to pet Kuroo. “Glad to see I’m the number one concern on your list of priorities this morning.”

Both Seonghwa and Wooyoung burst out laughing as they watch Kuroo turn to look at you with wide eyes from over his shoulder. He mewls in the next second, only causing their laughter to deepen.

“I’m dying of a headache, and you would rather nap,” you shake your head, only for him to mewl once more. “No, no, I see where I stand, you monkey.”

A wail of a mewl greets your ears as he turns to look at Seonghwa for help.

“You’re on your own, kid,” he chuckles, only for Kuroo to turn and look at Wooyoung in the next second.

“I don’t care if you were dreaming about chasing Stella around,” Wooyoung replies, amused disbelief painting his features.

Kuroo whines once more.

“Oh, come here, you little stinker,” you chuckle, pulling Kuroo into your arms. “Look at that little face. How can I stay mad at you?”

You pull him up for a kiss, burying your face in his belly as you stretch his upper body above your head. You get two kisses in when you feel him latch onto your head, attempting to bite the top.

“Ah, abort mission! Abort mission!” You’re quick to pull him away, noticing how he stares at you with wide eyes. “You little monkey!”

Chuckles resonate around the room as you place Kuroo fully back onto the bed. Only, in the next moment, he decides to jump on top of your foot buried beneath the blankets, biting at your toes.

“He’s trying to eat my toes,” you pout, mouth parting in mock surprise as you watch him pounce on your foot from over the blankets once more.

“To be fair, he thinks it’s a snake,” Wooyoung laughs, seeing Kuroo shaking his head back and forth with your comforter caught between his teeth.

“Oh, to be a kitten who thinks a foot beneath a blanket is a snake,” you sigh, almost wistfully. Then, the corner of your lips quirks upwards teasingly. “I don’t know, guys. I think he may just be more ferocious than all of you combined.”

“How can we ever live up to the standard of your ferocious little guardian now?” Mingi joins in on the teasing, leaning against one of the pillars in your room.

“Oh, geez,” you shake your head, keeping your voice playful as you respond, “I don’t know.”

At the way Kuroo sits directly over your shin now, practically loafing on your leg, you laugh.

“You’ve done it, you’ve killed the snake,” the way his tail swishes happily at your praise has you all laughing once more. “Or have you?”

In an instant, you start wiggling your foot beneath the covers, shifting your leg slightly as a large grin takes over your features. In no time, Kuroo has sprung back into action, pouncing on top of your foot and trying his absolute best to sink his fangs into your toes. You’re just glad the blankets are so thick.

A few more minutes pass by like this, all eight of them watching on with fond smiles on their faces as you play with Kuroo. That is, until you’re collapsing back into your pillows, a huff escaping you.

“Okay, Doritos, I really need my foot back, now,” you spare a glance back at Kuroo who looks up at you with wide eyes. “Well, unless you want to find out what being submerged in water feels like, I’m going to need my foot.”

You can just tell he’s pouting from the way he’s looking at you, his little mouth parting the slightest bit. You share a chuckle with the eight of them once again as Wooyoung moves to grab Kuroo from your bed.

Ten minutes later, and after kicking the eight other males out of your room, you find yourself sinking into the warmth of you tub. A small sigh escapes your lips, allowing the soothing scents of lilac and honey to flood your every sense. 

The more time you spend soaking in the tub, the more you can feel your body beginning to relax fully. Despite everything they told you that happened at their council meeting last night, it just means that you’re one day closer to finally being rid of Miyeon. The sooner she acts, the sooner you can all put this stupid incident behind you. Besides, you really want to go visit your family soon. Maybe even formally introduce the eight of them to your parents and your sister. Perhaps, even as you significant others.

A snort of laughter leaves your lips. You wonder how well that conversation will go down. 

Yeah, you can just picture it now. ‘Hi, mom and dad. These are my eight significant others I’ve been living with for a few months now, even since I quit my job and went on that spontaneous road trip. Crystal was right, but instead of only one mystery lover, I have eight!’

Definitely won’t raise any questions at all.

Another chuckle escapes your lips as you shift slightly in the tub. Your parents may be supportive of you and your life choices, but you honestly have no idea how they may react to that. Oh well, all in due time, you suppose.

A little while later, you pull yourself out of the tub. Taking your time, you get ready for the day, pulling on one of your hoodies overtop of you shirt as you slide your slippers back onto your feet. Smiling to yourself in the reflection of the mirror, you decide that you’re going to make the most out of your day. By that, you mean picking out a fresh book to read and spending some time in the library.

As soon as you open the door to your room and step out into the hallway, you notice Kuroo trot right up alongside you. A fact which makes you smile as you tease him about keeping you company now after the events of last night. At the way he mewls back at you, you know you’re right.

Stopping by the kitchen on your way to the library, you’re quick to grab a bite to eat, curtesy of San who insists on cooking you something to start your day. Of course, he wouldn’t let you do it, sitting you down on one of the stools as he grabbed the ingredients from the fridge right afterwards.

Half an hour later, and after San refused your help with cleaning up, you finally find yourself in the library for the day. Pulling a book off your one shelf, you happily settle yourself into your spot and begin to read.

Jongho joins you at some point, and you find yourself shifting in your seat so you can rest against his side as the both of you read. It takes no time for his one arm to be wrapped around your shoulders, holding you to him as you both bask in each other’s company like this for hours. A fact which you have always appreciated about him.

Sometime later, you decide to take a small break from reading. You can tell that your eyes are getting a little tired from staring at the font of this book for so long, given that it’s quite smaller than usual. You should probably take a break and stretch your legs out, anyways.

Standing from the couch, you notice Jongho’s eyes following your every move. He blinks up at you as you turn back to face him, the tips of his ears turning bright red as you lean in to place a tender kiss onto his cheek.

“I’ll be back soon,” you smile, stepping away from him as you tug your sweater off of your body. You were beginning to get a bit hot, anyways.

Straightening out your back, you begin to slowly make your way out of the library. You walk passed Seonghwa’s tailor shop, noticing him seemingly working on something through the glass window on the door. A fact which makes you smile fondly as you continue on your merry way.

Reaching the foyer, you notice San coming from the opposite hallway. His hands seem to be cradling his elbows before shifting to rub at his upper arms.

Your brow furrows as you meet his gaze. “Are you cold?”

He pauses right in front of you, nodding his head slowly as he seemingly avoids your gaze somewhat shyly. In the back of your mind, you vaguely recall Jongho’s words to you while you were visiting the dragon’s nest. You blink.

Wordlessly, you offer him your sweater.

The way he gazes at you, with wide eyes full of awe, sets your heart racing in your chest. You smile.

“Baby,” his eyes shine, gently reaching out to take your sweater into his hands.

“Don’t tear the arms off of this one,” you tease, the corner of your lips tugging upwards.

“I won’t,” his response is immediate as he pulls your hoodie over his head, basking in the way your scent absolutely surrounds him for the moment. “I promise.”

You smile at him once more: a soft pull of your lips upwards as you look at him with such tender affection in your gaze. A look San has only ever dreamed of being on the receiving end from you. However, before either of you can say anything else, the loud caw of a raven draws your attention.

Immediately, the other seven of them are appearing in the foyer as Stella lands on the desk at the front. Again, she caws loudly, and you watch as all of their eyes darken.

At the way you look between all of them as Kuroo comes trotting into the room, you just know that something’s going on. Something big.

“Miyeon’s finally decided to make a move,” Yunho is the one to inform you, meeting your gaze instantly.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can, My Love,” Hongjoong, being one of the closest to you for the moment, leans in to place a kiss onto your cheek.

“For the love of everything holy and unholy,” your eyes dart over all of them, “be safe.”

“We will, Baby. Don’t you worry.” San smiles at you, reaching out to cup your opposite cheek in his one hand briefly.

“By the time we’re done with Miyeon, there will be nothing left,” Yeosang’s gaze is the darkest you’ve ever seen it, mirrored only by the way their eyes all flash black in the next moment, snarls of agreement filling the air.

As soon as Stella hops onto Hongjoong’s shoulder, all of them disappear from your sight.

In the next moment, a sigh escapes your lips as your heart begins to pound inside your chest. Worry consumes your every step as you continue on down the hallway and towards your room for the moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Kuroo following you every step of the way.

A shiver caresses your spine and goosebumps begin to raise on your arms as you hear a small thud come from behind you.

Immediately, you freeze in your track, blinking a few times as a nervous grin pulls at your lips. Your head begins to throb.

“What’d you forget?” You tease, hoping beyond anything that it’s Mingi once more appearing back home like he did last night.

Only, the sight that greets you when you turn around nearly has a scream tearing from your throat. There, standing in the archway to the foyer, rests Miyeon, a sinister grin pulling at her features as she meets your gaze.

“Miss me?”

[splendsay]

COD FF // Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 31: Yours to Climb

y'all this fic might be 300k words by the time we're done jfc

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

Callsign: Sunshine

Chapter 31: Yours to Climb

!!MDNI!!

Chapters: 31/? WC: 73,331 Pairing(s): TF141 x Reader (You) Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, references to canon-typical violence Chapter Excerpt:

If you'd asked Soap six months ago where he thought he'd be now, he wouldn't have known what to tell you. But, even his wildest guesses wouldn't have put him here: on a doomed rescue mission for a woman he wasn't sure was alive to be saved, listening to his Captain and his Captain's friends bicker about whether or not resting is worth it, and hopelessly, endlessly stuck dreaming about a girl he'll never, ever get to have.  

But, here he is. Reclined in front of a paltry campfire, the earth for a bed and the stars for a blanket. The slow, steady breathing of seven others a constant, lulling force of sleep, though not quite powerful enough to have any effect on him. 

He hasn't slept in days. 

Not because he isn't tired. No, he's exhausted. He hasn't slept because your face is imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. Every time he closes his eyes, an agonizing pain arcs through him. The memory of you. The way your fingertips feel on his skin. The sweet, tinkling sound of your laugh. How you look when you're in your element, behind the wheel of a car or the barrel of a gun -- wild hair, wide eyes, and a crooked, devilish grin. 

You love him, he knows that. 

But not like he loves you. 

That dance in the courtyard sparked something in him. Something deep and everlasting. But as soon as that flame had been lit, you'd floated just out of reach and into the arms of the only other person he held any such affection for. 

He's not an idiot. He knows what you mean to one another. How far it's gotten.  

As happy as he is that you two found something worth holding onto...it destroys him that he isn't part of it.

You changed his life. Changed the whole damn task force. Funny how a woman can do that. A glimmer of joy and laughter and revelry amidst the somber hellscape of a post-Rift world. 

You certainly weren't supposed to be. No, you were supposed to be a spoiled daddy's girl whose very existence was an insult to everyone who'd survived your father's cursed biological escapades. 

You'd quickly stepped outside that shadow. 

For Soap, it'd been when you'd stripped off his shirt and chucked it at him. So much fight in you, despite everything you'd already endured. 

He hasn't seen much of that fight since he pulled you from the cellar. But he knows it's around somewhere. Even if you'll never have him the way he wants...he'll do whatever he can to help you find it. When he gets back. He'll get back. He's got to get back. There hasn't been a second of the last three weeks where he hasn't been working toward it. 

Toward you. Always toward you. 

What happens when one's sense of purpose shifts? When it goes from helping anyone in need -- protecting them without question -- to only wanting to protect a few? Only caring about a small, select few? 

It's a conundrum he's grappled with for weeks. Trying to unpack this draw. This magnetic, infuriating, all-consuming draw. A constant pull. Like you're sucking the life out of him -- just to give it right back. It's as addictive as it is excruciating. 

And you don't even know. You have no fucking idea. 

Of course, there's also Ghost. His oldest friend, aside from the Captain. A harrowing complication in an already mixed up, half-missing puzzle. 

There's a significant part of him that hates you as much as it loves you. For having an intimacy with Ghost that he's never had a hope to. For you, Ghost is an open book. That stings more than it feels like it should. Maybe more than any of the rest of it. 

Like alcohol on a paper cut he didn't know he had. 

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

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

Links to:

Spotify Playlist Full Fic

[zapreportsblog]

In Love With The Same Cat

➥ summary : There’s no Spider-Man without the Black Cat just like there’s no Black Cat without Spider-Man. But what if we had a multiverse dimensional traveling jewelry stealing burglar Black Cat (try saying that seven times fast aye) that traveled across dimensions not only stealing the worlds finest jewels but also the hearts of four unlucky, or lucky depending on how you see it Spider-Man’s and Spider-Women’s hearts.

➥ chapter 1: The Daughter of Shadows

In the bustling city of Brightville, a young girl named (y/n) grew up in the enigmatic embrace of her father, Walter Hardy, a renowned and elusive cat burglar. From a tender age, (y/n) was immersed in a world of shadows and secrets, a life that few could comprehend. Under her father's watchful eye, she learned not only the art of thievery but also the invaluable lessons of confidence and seizing life's opportunities.

Walter Hardy was a figure shrouded in mystery, his exploits whispered in hushed tones among the criminal underworld. But to (y/n), he was simply her loving father—a man whose presence both comforted and challenged her. Despite the unconventional nature of their lives, Walter was determined to raise (y/n) to be a strong and confident individual, encouraging her to embrace the world with fearless determination.

From an early age, (y/n) became Walter's protégé, accompanying him on various heists and observing his every move with wide-eyed curiosity. The dark alleys and high-rise rooftops became her playground, where she learned the art of agility and the thrill of outsmarting the odds. Walter, recognizing her natural talent and thirst for knowledge, nurtured her abilities, teaching her the intricacies of the trade while instilling in her a strong moral compass.

One sunny afternoon, as (y/n) carefully observed her father's nimble maneuvers, he paused and turned to her with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "My dear (y/n)," he said, his voice laced with warmth and conviction, "life is a grand heist waiting to be seized. Do not fear the unknown, but rather embrace it with confidence. Only then can you truly discover the treasures hidden within."

With those words etched into her young heart, (y/n) embarked on a journey of self-discovery and resilience. She learned to navigate the intricate webs of deception and subterfuge, honing her skills in the art of illusion and misdirection. But more importantly, she learned to believe in herself—to trust her instincts and to never back down from a challenge.

Walter encouraged (y/n) to explore beyond the confines of their nocturnal escapades, exposing her to a multitude of experiences that would shape her worldview. They attended art exhibitions, where they marveled at the strokes of a master's brush, and visited bustling markets, where (y/n) haggled with vendors and embraced the vibrant tapestry of cultures. Through these experiences, Walter instilled in her the importance of a well-rounded education, cultivating her intellect and expanding her horizons.

But it was not just the thrill of adventure that defined their relationship. In the quiet moments, when the city slept and the moon bathed the world in its ethereal glow, (y/n) and Walter would sit beneath the starry sky, sharing stories of their past and dreaming of the future. It was in these stolen moments that (y/n) discovered the depth of her father's love—a love that transcended their clandestine activities and embraced the essence of family.

As the years passed, (y/n) grew into a confident young woman, her spirit untamed and her resolve unyielding. She possessed an uncanny ability to blend seamlessly into any situation, her nimble fingers and quick wit serving her well in the world her father had introduced her to. But it was her unwavering confidence that set her apart—a quality that Walter had nurtured from her earliest days.

With each heist they embarked upon, (y/n) faced challenges head-on, her unwavering confidence shining through the darkness that surrounded them. She reveled in the adrenaline rush, the thrill of outsmarting her adversaries, and the satisfaction of retrieving the treasured artifacts they sought. Through it all, she carried with her the lessons her father had imparted—the importance of self-belief and the courage to seize every opportunity that presented itself.

As (y/n) stood on the precipice of her own journey, she carried the legacy of her father's teachings within her heart. The world awaited her, full of untold adventures and uncharted territories. With Walter's lessons guiding her, she knew that she had the tools to carve her own path, to embrace the shadows and emerge victorious.

In the heart of Brightville, (y/n) stood as a testament to her father's unwavering belief in her potential. She was more than the daughter of a cat burglar; she was a force to be reckoned with—a beacon of confidence and resilience in a world that often sought to overshadow her. And as she prepared to step into the spotlight, she did so with the knowledge that she was the culmination of her father's love and guidance—a testament to the indomitable spirit that Walter Hardy had instilled within her.

[cordyce]

(we are written) in the sand and in the stars

Neteyam x Reader

Fic Summary: Sullys stick together. That is something you have heard since the beginning. But when you are forced to uproot and leave your home, it is something you must learn to fully take to heart. You are not technically a Sully, but you fight like one. And that in turn is enough to be shielded like one as well. There is no choice but to openly accept that this family, these Na’vi, are your fortress. It is perhaps harder, though, to accept that Neteyam has seemingly appointed himself as your personal guard.

༄ CHAPTER ONE: THE TURNING OF THE TIDE

Chapter Summary: It’s quite normal for you to find yourself in a position where you’re forced to rescue your siblings out of whatever trouble they seem to get themselves into. This time, though, the trouble they stumble in has your life uprooting right out from under you.

Next Chapter | Read on AO3

Change is not always wished for.

Sometimes it just crashes in; ebbs and flows like the ocean waves as the tides attempt to conquer their never ending battle of easing against the grain. It does not give you much of a choice, does not care about your contentment in the moment, whether or not you are ready to embrace it. Fair amounts of times there is no warning, no siren to let you know of its approach.

It simply comes. And it uproots you from the comfort of where you find yourself to be planted. Your roots being forced out of the only soil that you know, that makes you who you are, that augments you.

And it plants you elsewhere.

Life on Pandora was the only life you knew, the only life you would ever know. You were born here, on the ship before the initial war happened. Apparently guns aren’t the only thing the human military doesn’t know how to keep to themselves, because you weren’t the only baby left behind either.

Growing up with Spider by your side as your off-the-record brother was a bit unorthodox, especially in the early years. You were older–by just a month, but you’d forever hang it over his head–and you felt that weight on you from the start. Which in turn might be where the guilt that settles so cooly in the bottom of your gut spawns from.

He has always been so curious, adventurous in his own right in a way that seemed to always tie him into trouble and get dragged down by it like a rope around the ankles. And you were always the one responsible for cutting him free, cleaning up his messes and tugging him back to reality when he would venture out too far in his escapades. The tether tying you two together was knotted and it reflected in how you felt the kinks tug at you like a bind on your wrist.

You were both human, exceptions that were allowed to run free in a fleeting sense among the Omaticaya clan and embrace it as you so chose. The Sully children were more accepting, more open to the thought of the two of you being there, than the rest of their people. You understood that–and you thought Spider did, too–but it was still so easy to selfishly question why you received such shunning looks as a child as you walked around their home.

Yet, it was comforting–to know you had someone who could really relate. Being orphaned in the same place really does wonders in bonding with one another. So maybe that’s why you felt so guilty, so contrite when it all went down.

You were still so young–just seven years old–when you started getting sick. The technology carried over by the scientists on Pandora was vast, sure, but it wasn’t like there was a research hospital planted there that could explain every medical outlier that occurred. So when they tried running tests, monitoring vitals and having trials with the different medicines they had on hand and nothing seemed to work, you came to mature conclusions at the brink of your childhood.

You were going to die, is what you had deduced. A month before your eighth birthday and your prognosis was due up by before then. And it was scary, of course, (the concept of dying is not an easy one to swallow, let alone for a seven year old) but you were more worried for Spider.

Leaving him there? Alone? As the only human child in all of Pandora when you yourself knew what it was like to feel like an oddly placed outcast? It hurt you, pained you, but even when you were bound to the confines of your bed you put on a brave face.

Because, after all, that’s what older siblings are supposed to do, is it not? Make sure their siblings never have to worry about anything? Make sure they think everything is okay?

It was then you learned the very dire lesson of what it meant to fake it until you make it. Smiling at Spider’s and Lo’ak’s absurd stories about whatever bind they had gotten themselves into this time and using your hand to cover up the blood you felt on the tip of your tongue as you laughed. Shielding him, protecting him, until the very last second.

But, as stated, the technology on Pandora was quite vast. And, while it was clear there was no human antidote that could cure you of whatever ailment was plaguing your body, there was a last stitch resort.

It was Kiri, who you heard propose it to Dr. Max.

To this day you think her origins are what give her such enlightenment about things, what opens her eyes to solutions of problems that always hold the best intentions and always seem to have ties to her soul. Even at such a young age. She’s connected to something, whether it be the pure humanity that Grace once held or something else, you’ve never been quite sure, but it has never failed to captivate you.

There was one singular unattributed Avatar that had been a sort of.. test.

Being the first abandoned baby left behind on Pandora in lieu of the resolution of war meant more opportunities. While the scientists knew full well how their prior Avatars maintained, there was a bit of a question in hindsight. Why not have one grow alongside you?

It seemed like more of a moral dilemma than it really was, but all you had to attribute was a sample of your DNA, which was really harmless enough. The Avatar would not be used–not while the driver was still young, at the very least–but it would be monitored, observed. They already knew how Avatars grew when being aided with rapid growth hormones during their flights from Earth, but this one would be left to run its natural course.

Unbothered, undisturbed, isolated from every outside force besides the scientists who were cleared to be in the room with its amnio tank, it grew freely. You had never seen it, never asked about it, because it was a touchy subject to address. After all, Spider didn’t have one, and while it seemed partially trivial to you (it’s not like you were going to be able to use it anyways), you could see how jilted it made him. So no one chose to bring it up into conversation.

That is, until you were dying. And suddenly Kiri’s seemingly innocent suggestion held more vital weight than anyone could ever imagine.

It took a bit to prepare and things like this tend to take some convincing. It was hard enough the first two times, bringing in one of the sky people for a consciousness transfer is never an easy subject to propose, understandably. But you were a special case. You were different; sick, innocent, familiar.

You were a dying child.

It wasn’t primarily easy but it was also easy enough convincing Mo’at to attempt the transfer when Jake carried you to her. You were frail, weak. It was clear your time was running out and running out fast, mere grains of sand away until your hourglass’s top half went empty. So it was set into motion accordingly.

After all, even if it was unsuccessful you were going to die anyway. It’s not like there was much to lose.

The night of your transfer was the first night you’d ever seen your Avatar. Looking over as Neytiri carried it, walking next to Jake as they took you to the Tree of Souls. Staring into a Na’vi-esque mirror is the best way your young mind could think to describe it. It looked like you, but it didn’t. It looked Na’vi, but it still had its flaws.

That was the last you saw of your Avatar before you were placed at the roots of the tree next to it. The feeling was strange, alien, as tendrils began to connect to you. You figured that was about accurate– alien. Though up until this point (and after) you realized that was how the Na’vi viewed all aspects of you.

Your last memory before you felt your consciousness slipping was the touch of each member of the Sully line pressing their palm to your temple. Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam, Lo’ak, all of their presences known to you. Spider wasn’t there, he was not permitted. And as your eyes fluttered shut and your consciousness regressed, you wondered what he was thinking about it all.

That was your last thought, before white light engulfed your mind.

Fast Forward - Present Time

“We will need to run another raid as soon as possible,” Jake states, looking to where the three of you were flanking him on your ikrans. “Keep them on their toes. Back to back blows will be the most effective.”

“Yes,” Neytiri nods, “Continue to cut off supplies.”

“More patrols should take place. Son, I need smooth patrols. If you are not up for that–”

“I am,” Neteyam interjects instantly, and your gaze flickers to him as he does so. His expression is serious, promising. “There will be no more errors, sir. Smooth patrols only.”

You study him, cinch your brows as he makes this promise as if he’s the one who chooses to stray from the marks. You suppose you get it though, understand the duty he feels to attempt to bear the chastisement for his younger brother. Still, it seems a promise too faltering to keep.

As if he senses your thoughts on this, his eyes dart over his shoulder to you. A side eye as if asking you to not comment on it, not pipe up. You hadn’t planned to but now you have the urge to retort something just because. However, you don’t have the chance.

“Devil Dog? Devil Dog, this is Eagle Eye. Over.”

Lo’ak’s voice over the comm brings all of your attentions back to hand. If not for his randomness, then his tone came through wired enough to have you all focused.

“Eagle Eye, send your traffic,” Jake answers, fingers to the button at his throat.

“I got eyes on some guys. They look like Avatars, but they’re in full camo and carrying ARs. There’s six of them. Over.”

The change in the air is instant. Despite flying it feels stiff, like the four of you are suddenly suspended rather than gliding. Lo’ak’s news means there’s people on the island, which you’re all obviously well aware of. But it doesn’t just mean that. It means there are Avatars, and if he doesn’t recognize them then it’s very clear on who they belong to.

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. “What’s your pos? Over.”

“Uh..” A breath. “We’re at the old shack.”

His father stiffens on the back of his ikran and sends a tense look to his mate. “Who’s we?”

There’s a pause now, at this question. A short one, a slight hesitation. You feel a tingle at the tips of your ears that doesn’t sit well with you. There’s a touch of static, a falter, then the silence breaks.

“Me, Spider, Kiri.. and Tuk.”

You see Neytiri’s eyes widen. You watch as Jake’s jaw clenches. You take note of how Neteyam’s grip tightens ever so slightly. And you become fully aware of the feeling of your stomach dropping as if you’ve fallen off your ikran from the peaks of the mountains.

“Son, you listen to me very carefully,” Jake instructs, no waver in his tone. “Fall back right now. Do not make a sound. Get the hell out of there. Move. Copy?”

“Yes sir,” Lo’ak hits immediately. “Moving out.”

Neteyam shakes himself free first and sends a glance back at you before moving up and getting in line with his father.

“Dad! I know a quick way,” he affirms, then instantly banks a hard right to which the three of you follow close behind.

For a moment you wonder how he knows a short cut. It was forbidden by Jake and Neytiri (especially the former) to go anywhere near the old fight zone, for anyone. So how would Neteyam know a way? If not that he had already been? Had not already broken that rule?

The thought turns trifling immediately after you have it though, because the weight of the situation finally hits you. It’s not just your friends turned family down there, it’s your brother. Your mindless, idiotic, always getting himself into these absolutely stupid situations brother.

The shortcut suddenly seems far too long to be considered as such.

As soon as your squad lands, you’re all immediately sliding off the backs of your ikrans. Jake and Neytiri are gauging up and you find yourself stepping right along with them, Neteyam as well.

“No no no. Stay with the ikran.” Jake lifts a hand to the two of you, looking at Neteyam a bit more intensely as he gives his order.

“But Dad,” Neteyam butts in, taking another step forward. “I'm a warrior like you. I’m s’pposed to fight.”

“Neteyam.”

Jake hardens his gaze. “I’m not gonna say it again.”

Neytiri gives her son one last look then shoots one to you before the pair turns their backs and brings up their weapons. You bite the inside of your cheek, clench the handle of the knife at your waist.

“Yes sir,” Neteyam mumbles back obediently. He turns around himself and brushes past you to walk back next to his ikran.

You stare after their retreating forms for a moment. Staying behind and doing nothing does not sit well with you. Not to mention the building up of anxiety in your chest that has your fingers twitching and your ears wanting to press back against your skull. Whirling around, you stalk back to your ikran and pull your bow off of where it's cinched to its side.

“Where are you going?” Neteyam catches you by your wrist as you go to follow the path your clan leaders have just taken.

With a shake of your hand you loose his hold and fix him with a glare. “I am not going to stand by while they are out there alone.”

It’s raining, and a drop hits you on your cheek that feels strangely cold. The pattering of rain in the forest normally calms you, puts you at ease. But it is different this night. This night, you can hear the artificial animal calls Neytiri and Jake are voicing to signal to their children. This night, you are on edge as you wait for your family to be returned to safety.

This night, you hear a blaze of gunfire.

Both you and Neteyam snap your heads in the direction of the noise. You suck in a breath, harden your hold on your bow at the sounds of yelling and machinery going off. You’re taking a step forward instantly, but just as quickly you’re being shoved back from your path.

“Let me go, Neteyam!” You hiss, bare your teeth at him as he locks his hands on your upper arms and pushes your back against the tree.

“You stay here,” he jeers right back. “Stay here in case they come back. You do not stray.”

You shove against him, get your back a few inches from the bark. “I will not– ”

“Stay here!” He barks in a tone you know to be his future leader voice as he forces you back again. There’s a squeeze to your arms, reassuring but also pleading. The look in his eyes is one you can only describe as desperate. “Rutxe.” [ “Please.” ]

Neteyam has this sort of air about him that tends to command respect, compliance. So maybe that is what steels you as he retracts his grip and runs into the forest. You watch him for a moment, hand still on your bow before your eyes flicker to your surroundings. Surely the ikrans would warn you if they sensed any incoming danger that you had not, but as you draw up your bow you think it right to be better safe than sorry.

It’s painstaking, the waiting. You twitch and turn at every creak and crack you hear around you. Wondering when and who is going to be coming through those trees first, who will reach the brink of safety in order.

The gunfire continues and unfamiliar voices mixed with those you know all too well seem to get closer and closer. It’s like everything begins to heighten, increase and expand like walls closing in. There’s a snap to your left and you ready your bow, pointing it in the direction your ears lead you just in case.

But it is no foreigner. You drop your weapon as Lo’ak and Tuk breach the small clearing and skirt in panting. Tuk jerks her hand free from Lo’ak’s when he stops to bend over and catch his breath, not faltering until she runs straight into you.

“Tuk,” you sigh in relief as she collides into your arms. As you’re kneeling to embrace her, checking for any injuries or damages on her young self, the second group of your clan comes through.

“You okay? Are you hurt?” Jake questions instantly as he and Neteyam make it into the clearing. Lo’ak shakes his head, and you do the same when he takes a quick glance to Tuk as she runs to him the next second, high sobs falling from her lips.

A bright light sweeps over the forestry and the Sully brothers step up to your sides as all of you look up to see an RDA aircraft come down to retrieve their men and then fly away. Just as they’re falling out, the missing segment of your family tumbles into the huddle.

Tuk makes an immediate bee line for her mother, who wraps her arms around her and exhales gratefully. You’re still on your knees as everyone begins embracing one another, holding and clinging and regaining themselves after too close of a call.

But not you, no. Slowly, you rise onto your feet and put your head on a swivel. Not everyone is here. Not everyone has been reconnected.

“Where’s Spider?” You ask, under your breath at first before his absence fully hits you. “Where’s Spider?!”

Kiri gets on her feet herself and a cry shatters out of her chest. She takes a step towards you, shaking and trembling as she reaches out.

“They took him,” she sobs. “They took him.”

As Kiri crashes into you, you feel all the breath evacuate your lungs as if you’ve been hit so hard your chest has concaved. You grip onto her, weeping and crying and gasping so harshly you feel as if you will never be able to breathe again.

A hand comes to your head and you feel yourself and Kiri being tugged into a firm chest. “Hey, it’s alright, babygirls. He’s a tough kid. Shh, shh. He’s gonna be okay,” Jake comforts and shushes, hooking his chin over the tops of your heads as he pulls you in tight.

“We’re all gonna be okay.”

But you do not believe that for one second. You can not all be okay because you are not all together, you are not all safe. Your brother has been captured by the very people who destroyed this land and population decades prior. Nothing is going to be okay. Not everyone is going to be alright.

And the solution decided for this problem only reinforces that for you.

[jadebeesworld]

Unfolding Bonds: The Evolution of Zuko and Katara's Relationship

Chapter 1: The first time Zuko met Katara.

Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Zuko and Sokka's friendship had solidified back in sixth grade, the result of countless afternoons spent hanging out at Sokka's house. It was on a particularly chilly autumn day that Zuko's world expanded to include Sokka's little sister, Katara.

Typically, Katara kept to herself whenever Sokka had friends over. However, something about that day compelled her to venture into the kitchen, seeking solace from the cold that seemed to seep into her bones. Little did she know, her decision would set in motion a series of events that would alter the course of their friendships.

As Katara tiptoed through the living room, her presence disrupted the boys' gaming session, causing Zuko to tear his gaze away from the screen and inadvertently sabotage their progress. Sokka, perturbed by the interruption, shot Zuko a quizzical look.

“Hey bro, what gives?” Sokka's tone was accusatory, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Zuko, caught off guard by the unexpected intrusion, could only muster a sheepish response. “I didn't know you had a sister,” he admitted, oblivious to the implications of his words.

“Yeah, because she's a nerd,” Sokka scoffed dismissively. “She's in like, fourth grade.”

With that, the two boys returned their attention to the game, the brief encounter with Katara quickly fading into the background as they resumed their virtual escapades. Yet, little did they know, that chance encounter would mark the beginning of a new chapter in their lives, one in which Katara would play a pivotal role.

-----

Please let me know if you want me to post more to this story!!

Feedback is appreciated :D

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (PART TEN)

Masterlist

IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. My health has just been crap, had two hospitalizations for my chronic illness that got a flare up, but I'm back to writing now, with a long chapter!

↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 6K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, angst, bestfriend!reader, fluff, tortuously slow smut scene, seduction, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), handjob (m!&f! receiving), oral (f!receiving), making out, dirty talk, sub!oscar, dom!oscar, switch!oscar

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

Oscar and Lando walked into Zak's office, the atmosphere immediately feeling thick with an unspoken tension. Zak stood by the window, looking out over the track before turning to face them with a serious expression.

"Take a seat, both of you," Zak said, his tone firm but not unkind. Oscar could feel his stomach twist with apprehension, Lando beside him shuffling awkwardly in his chair. Zak took a deep breath, folding his arms. "Alright, boys, let's cut straight to the chase. Oscar," he began, locking eyes with the young driver, "you need to watch out for your image. I understand things happen—you're young, life's fast, and sometimes emotions get the best of you. But kissing someone in public that you're not publicly dating, especially when that someone is a co-worker... it's not a smart move."

Oscar opened his mouth to speak, but Zak held up a hand to stop him. "The media's already catching on. Whispers are starting to circulate, and we need to get ahead of this before it turns into a full-blown story." Zak walked around to the front of his desk, leaning against it. "That's why we've discussed the subject within the team and have a proposition for you" he started, taking a breath "The idea is to put you in a publicity stunt—a fake relationship with a girl. Someone from outside the company, someone who can help steer the narrative away from... well, from the internal complications."

Oscar blinked, feeling a mix of surprise and disbelief. "A fake relationship?" he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. Zak nodded. "It's the best way to simmer down the talk. Give the media something else to focus on. You don't have to like it, Oscar, but it's probably what's best for now. We can't afford any distractions right now." Oscar nodded gently to his words, before Zak spoke up again "Or is there anything that we should maybe know about? Something more to the whole ordeal?"

The young Australian swallowed audibly, getting a little nervous "N-No, it's fine"

Lando noticed that Oscar didn't know what to say, visibly uncomfortable about it "He already got the lecture from Sophie" he said, taking a deep breath "I'm pretty sure he's aware that it was a very stupid mistake" Zak wordlessly agreed with Lando, so he continued on without more lecturing words. He looked at Oscar "So, what do you say?"

Lando shifted in his seat "Before he answers that, uh, why am I here, exactly?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Zak turned to him, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ah, well. We kinda had a similar proposition for you as well. If you'd both agree, we would set yours up in about 2 weeks after Oscar's" Lando's eyes widened. "What? Why?" Zak chuckled softly. "Come on, Lando. You haven't exactly been subtle with your... escapades with Daniel." Zak's tone was light, but his expression remained serious. "You've been trying to be, but it's starting to look pretty obvious." Lando flushed, glancing sideways at Oscar, who raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "I'm not against it," Zak continued, "Not at all. But you need to think about what you're doing. If the media catches wind of it... if anything goes wrong... it'll bite you in the ass, hard." Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So, you want me to fake-date someone too, just to throw them off?" Zak nodded. "Exactly. We need to control the narrative before the narrative controls us." Oscar exchanged a glance with Lando, both of them feeling the weight of Zak's words settle on their shoulders. "Understood," Oscar finally said, his voice steady. "I'll do it if it's necessary." Lando hesitated for a moment, then nodded as well. "Yeah... me too. Whatever it takes." Zak smiled, clapping his hands together. "Good. Glad we're all on the same page. Now, let's get to work."

"So, any details on how we're supposed to do this then? Like, for how long? And what do you expect from us regarding those girls?"

Zak looked at the two boys "Well, at least a month, I guess. I think that'll do to simmer down the suspicions "We'll find a girl for you that looks a little like Y/n, just so people think that the girl in the press picture was that girl" 

Oscar nodded, shifting awkwardly in his seat, not really knowing how to act about this.

"From there we want to start with her joining you in the paddock during a race. Maybe hold her hand, give her a kiss, pretending to be subtle, while you actually just want the cameras to catch on to it" Zak explained, leaning back in his chair "Just do couple-like stuff with her. Share a picture of you both on social media, or don't. That's up to you. After a month, you can just give a short explanation on your social media about how you were dating, but mutually decided to break up and are better off as friends" 

Lando shook his head "Do you have any idea how complicated this sounds?" he explained "I'm a formula 1 driver, not an actor. How do you expect me to fake being in love with someone?"

Zak sighed "I understand, Lando. You both don't have to do this if you really don't want to, but we all think it might be the best way to fight off the suspicions, in both of your cases" 

Oscar shifted his eyes from his lap back to the man in front of him "So you even want us to kiss the girls in question?" he asked

"I'm not forcing you into anything, but I think we both know that the media will have a hard time believing that you're dating someone if you refuse to kiss them" 

Later that day

Oscar was sprawled out belly down on his bed in his hotel room, replaying the conversation in his head over and over again. Lando was lying on the couch opposite Oscar’s bed, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Fucking hell, mate,” Oscar muffled into his pillow, his voice heavy with frustration. “How am I even supposed to tell her this?”

Lando chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “I guess using words would work,” he sassed, earning a glare from the Australian driver.

Oscar rolled his eyes before grabbing the nearest pillow and launching it across the room. Lando puffed out an exaggerated “Ooff,” then tossed the pillow back. “Hey! I was just trying to diffuse the tension.”

Sitting up against the headboard, Oscar sighed deeply. “I know, but I honestly don’t know how to break it to her.” His voice softened as he admitted, “I know it’s weird talking about this since she’s your sister and all, but I honestly don’t want to hurt her.”

Lando offered a sympathetic smile, sensing the weight behind Oscar’s words. “It’s okay, I’m fine with talking about it. I know you mean well,” Lando reassured him.

Oscar’s shoulders slumped as he pulled his knees toward his chest. “It’s just… I felt like things were finally going in the right direction. And now this shit happens. You know how much that sucks? I thought I finally had a chance to win over the girl of my dreams.” His voice trembled slightly, the frustration clear in his tone. “And now I have to pretend I’m in love with some random girl and kiss her in public… with her right there.”

Lando noticed the glint of emotion in Oscar’s eyes, his usually calm and collected friend on the verge of tears. “I honestly don’t know what to say. It just sucks so much,” Lando admitted, sounding defeated himself. “Maybe you can just tell Zak you don’t want to do it if it makes you feel this bad.”

“I’m not doing this for me,” Oscar mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m doing this for her. I don’t want her career to be ruined because of me.”

Lando sat up, his tone more serious now. “It’s not your fault, Osc. It takes two to tango.”

Tears started to fall down Oscar’s cheeks as he shook his head. “It is my fault. I should’ve suppressed my feelings. I shouldn’t have bothered her with them. She’s my best friend, your sister, and my damn trainer.”

“Look, Osc,” Lando said gently, "Osc, your her best friend as well, you're her client, you're her brothers teammate. She’s just as responsible as you are. It’s not all on you.”

Oscar’s voice cracked. “I just don’t want people to think less of her. I don’t want the press to call her a gold digger or say she’s using me. If fake dating some random model stops all this crap, I’ll do it.” He rambled on, not realizing how much he was pouring out his heart. “You know, if the drama would be just about me, the decision would be easy. I wouldn’t even consider the PR stunt, I couldn’t care less about my career when it cones to her. Hell, I’d even quit racing for her. She's all I think about. When I close my eyes, all I see is her. Lando, I am so in love with her it hurts”

Lando’s eyes widened, the weight of Oscar’s confession hitting him hard. After a brief pause, he spoke softly. “Mate, you’re not going to lose her over this. I know she’s not going to think less of you or let this ruin things between you. I mean, it’s obvious you care about her so much, and even if you’re not officially dating… it’s there. Anyone can see that. You should go for it.”

Oscar shook his head, his expression filled with uncertainty. “But I don’t want to risk her losing her job because of this.”

Lando leaned forward, his tone thoughtful. “But what if people don’t react the way we think? What if… instead of weird reactions, people actually love seeing you two together? A lot of drivers get shipped with each other, and the media loves my sister. Why wouldn’t they love you two together? Maybe we’re afraid of reactions that won’t even be there.”

Oscar hesitated, his brow furrowing. “But… we’re not even dating, Lando. I don’t even know what we are. We don’t have a label or anything. It’s all so uncertain.”

Lando grinned slightly. “Mate, the only reason you two aren’t official is because of your jobs and what other people might think. But even a blind person could see how in love you both are. You’re holding back for the wrong reasons. Don’t let that stop you.”

Oscar looked down, his emotions swirling inside him. “I just… I don’t want to make things worse for her.”

“Talk to her,” Lando urged. “She’ll understand. She’s smart, and she knows this whole fake relationship is just business. Nothing between you and that random girl means anything. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Oscar remained quiet for a moment, processing everything. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered, his voice wavering with uncertainty.

“And don’t give up on her,” Lando added with a soft smile. “You care about her more than anyone else. My sister deserves someone who loves her as much as you do, and I know you’ll treat her well. Don’t let this fake PR crap get in the way of your own happiness.”

Oscar nodded, still uncertain but feeling the weight of Lando’s words sink in.

“If you need me to talk to her too, I will,” Lando offered. “A brother-sister chat might help clear her mind. Just keep communicating with her, Osc. You’ll get through this.”

The two drivers continued discussing the situation, with Oscar ultimately deciding that, for her sake, he didn’t want to risk going public yet. But he knew Lando was right—she would understand. It wasn’t ideal, and it sucked for both of them, but they had to keep talking, keep trusting each other.

“Yeah, it sucks,” Lando sighed, “but you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Oscar smiled "Enough about me now, what about you and Danny, are you okay?" Oscar then asked.

Lando nodded "It sucks of course, but I think it's for the best, you know. Danny will understand. He knows how this world works" he explained, playing with the string of his hoodie as he spoke "Besides, Danny is well aware of my feelings for him. Things have been going steady between us for a while now, it's just that we both aren't really in the mood to drop the 'We are both bisexual and dating our former teammate' bomb, yet. So if this is the solution for us to continue under the radar a bit more, then I'm sure he's fine with it" 

"That's good to hear" Oscar replied, a soft smile sporting his face. 

"So, you're not grossed out about me dating a dude?" Lando asks, a little nervous, even though deep down he knew the answer. 

Oscar shook his head immediately "Why would I be? Wouldn't make a difference if it were a boy or a girl, now would it? As long as the person makes you happy, I'm fine with anything" he says with a smile

"Besides, it was quite obvious you were into both men and women from the start. I think everyone within McLarens has the suspicion" Oscar chuckles.

A few hours later

Oscar had invited you to his hotel room for a cozy movie night before the chaos of race weekend officially began. That’s how you found yourself now, nestled comfortably in his arms on the soft bed, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. The movie was playing, but neither of you was really paying attention. Instead, your focus had shifted to the weightier topic Oscar had brought up—one that hung in the air between you both.

He’d already explained the situation. Told you what Zak had proposed. He’d kept the details brief, just covering the essentials. There was going to be a PR relationship—a fake one—with another girl. Zak thought it was best for both your images, and Oscar had agreed, reluctantly, explaining that there didn’t seem to be much of a choice in the matter. He looked torn as he spoke, clearly not on board with the idea but unsure of any other way forward.

You weren’t happy with it either, though deep down, you’d expected something like this. The media had been buzzing for days, and the rumors surrounding you both were becoming harder to manage. Agreeing to the plan felt like the safest route for now, despite the unease that settled in your chest.

Oscar sighed softly, his breath warm against your hair. “But… what about us, though?” he asked, his voice laced with hesitation.

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He averted his gaze for a moment, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I mean, I’d understand if you didn’t want to… try things with me anymore. If you have to watch me kiss someone else, even if it’s fake. I can imagine you wanting to call it quits.”

You could feel the vulnerability in his words, his uncertainty over how you felt. Slowly, you removed yourself from his embrace and shifted your position, climbing onto his lap so you could face him directly. His wide eyes followed your every movement as you settled on top of him.

"It’s not like you're kissing her by choice,” you said softly, your hand lifting to cup his jaw. Your thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw, and you leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. “I'm assuming she's not the one making you feel like this, now is she?”

Without waiting for an answer, you leaned down, your lips brushing against the side of his neck in a slow, deliberate kiss. The moment your lips touched his skin, Oscar let out a soft, guttural groan, the sound almost desperate as his hands instinctively gripped your waist. Encouraged by his reaction, you trailed your lips higher, finding the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. You pressed a soft kiss there before sucking gently, enough to elicit another quiet sound from him, a mix of pleasure and restraint.

“You can fake date her all you want,” you murmured, your lips brushing his skin as you spoke. “But as long as I’m the one making you moan at night, none of it matters.” You continued to kiss along the curve of his neck, your lips slow and purposeful, savoring every inch of his skin.

Oscar’s breathing grew heavier, and you felt the tension in his body as his hands tightened their grip on your hips. His heart was pounding beneath your palm as you slid your hand over his chest, feeling the erratic rhythm beneath his shirt. You let your fingers trail down, tracing the defined lines of his torso through the fabric, your touch feather-light and teasing. It riled you up to see how sensitive Oscar is to your touch. How you can make him tremble with something as little as a kiss and a few words. You absolutely loved it.

“I know it’s me who makes you feel like this,” you whispered seductively, your voice barely above a breath as your lips moved closer to his ear again. “I’m the one who gets you like this, aren’t I?”

Oscar whimpered softly in response, his breath catching as your hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, your fingers grazing the bare skin of his abdomen. He was trembling now, his body betraying how deeply your touch affected him.

“I want to hear you say it,” you murmured, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Tell me, Oscar. Tell me how I make you feel.”

His response was almost immediate, though his voice was strained, barely able to form words through the haze of desire. “You… you make me feel… so good,” he groaned, his voice laced with need. “No one else—no one makes me feel like you do.”

You smiled at his confession, your lips curving as you kissed his jawline, slowly making your way back to his lips. Your fingers slid up his chest, your nails lightly grazing his skin, drawing more breathy moans from him as you continued your slow, torturous seduction.

When your lips finally met his, you kissed him slowly, deeply, your tongue teasing his as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently at the strands. The combination of your touch and your kiss had him whimpering beneath you, his hands pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to have any distance between you.

“You might have to kiss someone else in public,” you whispered against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak, your eyes dark with desire. “But I know I’m the one who gets you like this. I’m the one who makes you feel good.”

Oscar groaned again, the sound desperate as his hands moved to your thighs, squeezing softly. His breaths were ragged, his body trembling beneath you, the tension between you both thick enough to cut through. He was completely at your mercy, lost in the slow burn of your teasing.

Your lips trailed back to his neck, and you could feel his pulse racing under your tongue as you kissed along the column of his throat, sucking gently on the skin as you moved. His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath you, each gasp and moan a testament to how much he was losing control under your touch.

“Tell me what you're thinking, baby” you whispered, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin just beneath his jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Oscar's breath hitched, his voice barely more than a strained groan. “I want you... to touch me,” he whimpered, his desperation raw. “I need you. Please.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips again, your hand sliding down his chest, savoring the way his body shuddered beneath your touch. You could feel the heat between you building, the anticipation thick in the air as you took your time, savoring every moment of his response.

He was yours—every groan, every shiver, every whispered confession. And you weren’t done with him yet. You loved the dynamic between Oscar and you. How one day Oscar could be the dominant one, but could switch to being completely at your mercy the other moment.

Your lips curved into a smile, savoring the power of his plea as you moved your hand slowly across his chest, teasing him further. "You've got to be more specific, Osc" Your lips pressed softly against the spot just below his jaw. “Tell me where you want me to touch you"

Oscar hesitated, his hands instinctively moving to guide yours lower, but you pulled away just enough to stop him. “Nuh-uh,” you tsked softly, a playful smirk on your lips. “I need you to tell me. Use your words.”

His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard, his hand dropping back onto the bed in defeat. He tried to stifle a whimper, but you could feel the need pulsing through him. Your fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down his torso, ghosting over the fabric of his shirt and sending sparks of sensation through his body. You paused just above his waistband, feeling the tension radiating from him, but deliberately avoided the spot you knew he was craving.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” you asked, letting your fingers trail along his hip before moving back up to his stomach. His muscles tensed under your touch, a soft groan escaping his lips.

You chuckled softly, your lips trailing to his ear as you whispered, “Or here?” Your hand moved to his chest, fingertips tracing circles around his nipples. Oscar bit his lip, his breath catching in his throat as his hips shifted beneath you, desperate for more. But you stayed teasing, your hand wandering, purposefully avoiding where he needed you the most.

"Tell me," you murmured again, pressing a kiss just beneath his ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Oscar whimpered, his voice strained and breathless. “I want… I want you to touch me,” he stammered, the words faltering as if he couldn't quite bring himself to say them fully. There was a part of him still clinging to the last shred of control, though deep down, he knew how much he craved letting go. The truth was, he loved this—loved you taking charge, more than he ever dared to admit. His body betrayed him, responding so eagerly to your dominance.

His eyes fluttered shut, his head falling back against the pillows as you continued your slow, deliberate torment. Every brush of your lips, every whisper of your touch, sent a fresh wave of electricity through him. He gripped the sheets beneath him, knuckles white, his body trembling under the weight of his need. The intensity of his desire threatened to overwhelm him, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to ask for more, savoring the sweet torture of your control.

You smiled against his skin, your lips brushing his jawline as you murmured, “Touch you where, Osc? Tell me exactly where you need me.”

He groaned in frustration, his body writhing beneath yours, aching for release. “Touch me… there. Please,” he whispered, his voice so raw it sent a surge of heat through you. “I need to feel your hands around my dick.”

A low hum of satisfaction left your throat as you finally let your fingers slip lower, teasing the waistband of his joggers, the heat radiating from his body pulling you in closer. “Good boy,” you purred softly into his ear, your breath warm against his skin as your lips trailed along the curve of his neck, planting a lingering kiss that sent shivers down his spine.

Oscar’s reaction was immediate—his whole body tensed beneath you, hips instinctively jerking upward, desperate for more contact. The sound of your praise hung in the air between you, its effect unmistakable. He let out a soft, strangled groan, the sound thick with need, as if those two simple words had unlocked something deep inside him. His eyes fluttered shut, his lips parted in a breathless moan, and his chest rose and fell in uneven, rapid breaths.

You could feel him twitch beneath your touch, the heat and anticipation rolling off him in waves. The mere sound of your voice calling him a 'good boy' had clearly struck a chord, one he was too overwhelmed to put into words but too aroused to hide. A thin bead of precome slicked against your fingers as you brushed over him, his body betraying just how much he enjoyed the praise—more than he would ever dare to admit aloud.

His hands fumbled for something to hold onto, gripping the sheets beneath him as he squirmed under your touch. “Fuck…” he whimpered, his voice breaking. His reaction was so visceral, so raw, that you could feel how much control he was fighting to keep, how much he craved your touch

Your hand stayed teasingly light, fingers barely grazing him as you moved lower, your touch enough to make him throb beneath you, every sensation amplified by the tension in his body. You smiled against his neck, savoring how easily you could make him come undone with nothing but your touch and your words.

“You like that, don’t you?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his ear. His answer came in the form of another groan, his hips bucking once again, leaking more in response to your gentle touch, his desperation growing with every passing second.

The flush on his skin deepened, the way his body reacted betraying the depth of his desire. You could feel the tremble in his thighs, the way his breathing hitched each time your fingers brushed over him, how his whole body seemed to lean into every touch, silently begging for more.

“I bet you love hearing that,” you murmured, fingers curling just enough to give him a hint of pressure, your words laced with amusement and seduction. “Admit it, Oscar. You like being called a good boy, don’t you?”

He let out a shaky breath, his body jolting at the words, unable to hold back any longer. “Y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice strained and trembling, so close to unraveling completely under the weight of his need. He pressed his head back into the pillows, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding through him, his body a live wire of sensitivity.

“Good boy,” you repeated, the words rolling off your tongue like honey as your hand moved just a little firmer, eliciting a strangled moan from Oscar that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. The way he responded to you was intoxicating, his body fully under your control as he writhed beneath you, craving every touch, every whisper, every teasing word.

He couldn’t help it—he twitched again in your hand, the dampness of his arousal slick against your fingers as he leaked more precome, his desperation making it clear just how much he wanted to give in. The pleasure was almost too much for him to handle, his body caught in that sweet spot between torture and ecstasy.

And you weren’t done with him yet.

Your lips found his neck again, trailing soft kisses along his skin, whispering between each one, “See? No random girl could ever make you feel like this… right, Osc?”

He whimpered in response, his breathing ragged as he squirmed beneath you. “No… only you,” he groaned, his hands gripping your waist as if he needed something to anchor him in the storm of sensation you were unleashing on him.

You smiled, savoring his surrender, your fingers stroking him slowly, deliberately, drawing out every sound he made. His body trembled beneath you, each moan and whimper fueling your teasing touches as you kissed along his jawline, down to his collarbone, then back up to his ear.

“Are you thinking about that girl you have to fake date now? Thinking about if she's pretty, if she could make you feel like this too?” you teased softly, your voice dripping with seduction as your hand tightened just slightly around him. 

Oscar shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “No… never. Just you.”

You kissed him deeply then, your tongue slipping past his lips, slow and sensual, tasting the desperation in his breath. His hands gripped you tighter, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t get enough. His heart was racing, the pulse of his need pounding through him as your hand continued its slow, torturous rhythm, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re mine, Osc,” you whispered against his lips, your hand quickening its pace ever so slightly. “No matter who you have to pretend with, it’s me who makes you feel this good, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he whimpered, his voice barely coherent as he bucked against your hand, his body trembling with anticipation. “Only you… please…”

You grinned, knowing how close he was, and kissed him once more, slowly, deeply, savoring every moment of his unraveling. "That’s right. I’m the one that makes you feel like this. No one else.”

Oscar’s moans grew louder, his body trembling beneath your touch as you finally gave him what he’d been begging for, his breaths coming in short gasps as he lost himself completely in you. Every groan, every whimper, every desperate plea filled the air between you, his pleasure so intense it left him barely able to form words.

As you kissed along his neck again, you took his hands in yours and moved them from your back down to cup your ass, squeezing lightly.

His response was nothing but a breathless whimper as he gripped you tighter, his body arching into yours, completely at your mercy.

The teasing, the slow build-up, and your seductive whispers had him lost, spiraling into ecstasy. You could feel him slipping away, utterly consumed by the intensity of what you were doing to him, and you smiled against his skin, knowing that only you could bring him to this point.

Oscar’s moans filled the room, raw and unrestrained, his entire body shaking as he gave in, letting you take him to the edge of oblivion. And as he finally reached that peak, his voice cracked, your name falling from his lips in a broken, breathless moan.

You smiled, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered one last time, “That’s right, Oscar. You're mine"

It took Oscar a moment to slip back into reality before he sat up on the bed, his chest still heaving from the high they had just shared. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed in one swift, effortless motion, holding you close to him. You gasped, half-laughing in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you toward the bathroom.

“Where are we going?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a playful smile tugged at your lips.

He kicked open the door to the ensuite bathroom and placed you gently down on the edge of the sink, the cool countertop a stark contrast to the warmth radiating between the two of you. Oscar walked over to the shower, turning the water on with a steady hand, before striding back to you, his presence suddenly more commanding, more assertive.

Standing between your legs, his body pressed firmly against yours, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above your ear. “Showing you that you’re mine too,” he whispered, his voice low, seductive, full of intention “You belong to me.”

Before you could respond, Oscar’s lips were on your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, each one sending shivers through your body. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging it gently as he tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck to his assault. He kissed his way down the column of your throat, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

“I’m not letting you wait for the water to warm up,” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing, his fingers already tracing the hem of your dress, slipping underneath to brush against your skin. He gripped the fabric, pulling it up with one swift motion before tossing it carelessly to the floor, his eyes devouring you, the hunger in them unmistakable.

His hand slid between your legs, fingers teasing, barely grazing you at first, drawing out the anticipation. He could feel how sensitive you were, how ready. You let out a soft moan as he pressed his lips against your jaw, trailing kisses down to the hollow of your throat. His fingers found their way inside you, moving slowly, torturously, making you squirm beneath him.

“You’re mine,” he growled softly, his breath hot against your skin. “No one else can touch you like this. Only me.” His fingers curled inside you just right, hitting all the right spots, and you let out a breathless whimper in response, your body arching into him. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice commanding but still gentle. “Tell me you’re mine.”

His smirk grew as you struggled to hold back, his fingers now moving with more purpose, each touch a mix of pleasure and dominance. 

"I-I'm yours" you moaned out, unable to form a coherent sentence "F-Fuck, this feels so good"

He smirked, pleased with your reaction, his thumb brushing over you in just the right way, coaxing even more desperate sounds from your lips. "That's it... let me hear you," he murmured, his voice commanding but still gentle, coaxing out every bit of pleasure as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.

When he finally couldn’t take it any longer, he scooped you up in his arms again, carrying you toward the shower. The water had begun to steam up the glass as he pressed your back against the cool tiles, the heat from the shower blending with the heat from his body. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep, passionate, filled with need. The water poured over both of you, soaking your skin as Oscar's hands roamed your body, his fingers tangling in your hair, his palms gripping your hips, your thighs, every inch of you.

Without breaking the kiss, he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding down your sides as the water cascaded down your bodies. He kissed your inner thighs, his lips agonizingly slow as they made their way higher, teasing you just as you had done to him before. You could feel the smirk on his lips as he drew closer, his breath hot against your skin, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place.

“You’re my girl,” he said softly, his voice laced with dominance as he looked up at you from his knees. “No one else can have you. Not now, not ever.” Then, without warning, his tongue flicked out, teasing you with the lightest touch. You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for his hair, gripping tightly as his tongue worked slow, deliberate circles, driving you mad with desire.

His hands roamed your body as he continued his slow torment, one gripping your ass, the other sliding up your back, pulling you closer to him. He was everywhere at once, his touch all-consuming, his tongue alternating between soft strokes and firmer pressure, teasing you, driving you to the edge.

Oscar’s fingers joined his tongue, sliding into you in perfect sync with the rhythm he set, the slow, torturous pace making you tremble. Every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers was designed to push you higher, the tension in your body building with each passing second.

“Tell me how I make you feel,” he whispered between strokes, his breath hot against you, and when you couldn’t answer, too lost in the pleasure, he smirked. “That’s what I thought.” His tongue circled again, his fingers curling just right, and your body responded, arching into him, your grip on his hair tightening as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

He continued to work you over, switching between his tongue and fingers, his touches slow, purposeful, drawing out every sound, every moan. His hands never stopped exploring, roaming your body, massaging your thighs, your hips, your breasts, every inch of you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

When you finally reached your peak, it was as if the world around you disappeared. You shattered against him, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you, and Oscar didn’t stop, carrying you through it, his tongue and fingers still working you until the very last tremor left your body.

“That's it, baby” he whispered softly, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness as he kissed his way back up your body, pulling you close as the water continued to soak you both.

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

previous | next

Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff @silentreader128 @edixttor

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Thirty-Six

The Red Keep bustled with activity, as if it had come to life overnight. Staff and nobles hurried through its corridors, the impending royal wedding demanding swift preparations in the short span of six weeks.

The morning after the shocking announcement, Thena efficiently assisted Maera in preparing for the day, by twisting and braiding her hair so it was out of her face, and lacing her into a scoop neck turquoise dress, a slim gold chain sitting across her waist as a belt. As the maid served Maera breakfast, her tone held an air of importance as she conveyed the day's agenda.

"My Lady, you'll be spending the day with Queen Alicent and Queen Helaena," she informed Maera. "They wish to discuss gowns, invitations, and decor, matters that need swift decisions so the necessary resources can be secured."

“Thank you, Thena. I think the next few weeks will be busy indeed,” Maera replied with a defeated sigh.

Before Maera departed for her royal duties, Thena cleared her throat and placed the stack of correspondence her lady had previously entrusted her with, along with the silk purse filled with coins, on the dining table. She hesitated for a moment, then declared, "I believe it's time to return these letters, my lady. And your purse, of course," her gaze unwavering.

Maera was grateful that the letters had not fallen into the wrong hands, shuffling through them and saw all seven were accounted for.

"Thank you for ensuring their safety," she said sincerely. However, she insisted, "But you should keep the money, Thena, as a token of my appreciation and trust."

Thena's response was tinged with humor. "I couldn't very well refuse a gift from the future Princess, could I?" she quipped, using the title that Maera found uncomfortable. Despite this, Maera managed a strained smile, appreciating the loyalty and understanding of her maid.

Walking into the Queen's chambers, Maera was engulfed in a warm and tight hug by Helaena, their friendship radiating in that embrace before she had even fully crossed the threshold. Maera reciprocated the hug, feeling a sense of relief seeing Helaena's face on the mend. While there were still remnants of green and yellow from the bruising, her eyes shone as brilliantly as ever.

Seated at the table behind Helaena was Queen Alicent, and Maera acknowledged her presence with a respectful curtsy. The last time Maera had spoken with the Queen mother properly was the day they had discovered Helaena in her terrible state.

Wanting to ensure there was no animosity, Maera began with an apology. "Your Grace, I must apologize for my… past behavior. My actions were unbecoming of a lady." Of course, she was not sorry for beating Alicent’s son, who had hurt her friend, but for the sake of a peaceful future, Maera hoped her words would mend any lingering discomfort from their last meeting.

Alicent waved away her apology with a gracious smile. "No need for apologies, Lady Maera. There is much to look forward to now. Come," she responded warmly, gesturing for them to take a seat. Such indifference was puzzling to Maera. Did the Queen Mother even know it was her who harmed her son? Or did she think it was another result of Aegon drunken escapades in Flea Bottom? No, Alicent was no fool. The Kingsguard would have told her if he had returned in that state. Perhaps she thought it was Aemond? Oh Gods, Aemond…

Despite her own mixed emotions about the impending wedding, Maera couldn't help but be delighted to witness Helaena's enthusiasm for planning the intricate details of the upcoming event. Seeing Helaena engage with Alicent and herself over floral arrangements and menu choices, after being previously so subdued, brought a genuine smile to Maera's face.

With the chiming of a bell, Queen Alicent summoned numerous potential vendors for the royal event, assuring Maera that these were the finest in King's Landing. The assembly included florists, caterers, musicians, dress designers, and seamstresses. Although the occasion was bittersweet for Maera, she threw herself into the planning with the Queen and Queen Mother, as she would for any other event, using the preparations as a welcomed distraction from her own uncertain future.

Maera sat contentedly as Helaena and Alicent took charge of selecting vendors. It seemed right that Helaena should choose the flowers that would adorn the great hall. With enthusiasm, she selected a variety of blossoms of yellow, white, black and deep red, that would bring a vibrant burst of color to the event. In addition, she picked three skilled musicians who specialized in stringed instruments to provide enchanting melodies on the special day.

Meanwhile, Queen Alicent focused her attention on the crucial matter of catering and food options for the banquet, selecting various meats, fruits, pies, breads, wines and ales. Knowing that not all of the realm's nobles could attend in just six weeks, she then began compiling a concise guest list. House Wylde, of course, would be sent an invite first as they were the family of the bride. More strategic invites were also made priority, such as the Baratheons and the Lannisters. And to ease the transition of the seat of Morne to Targaryen rule, House Tarth would also be extended an invitation.

In letters, Maera’s late aunt Viserra had mentioned about the Lords of Tarth, cousins of her husband Lord Byron, and feelings were conveyed as mixed. Currently, Lord Pearse was the overlord of Evenfall Hall and his son, Lord Endrew, was heir. Both would need to be won over to ensure Maera’s family’s safety, and what better way to do that than at a royal wedding

In the midst of the wedding preparations, there came a moment that made the impending reality of her wedding day sink in for Maera – the dress. Prompted by a group of three skilled dressmakers, she rose from the table and stood still by the window as two of the seamstresses took measurements of height, bust, hips, waist and shoulders. The head of the group, the dress designer, a tall golden-haired woman who employed the seamstresses, arranged various fabrics on the table, presenting a palette of shades: black, gold, green, red, white, and turquoise, each with intricate patterns of embroidery.

Beside the fabric samples, the dress designer laid pieces of parchment that held sketches of recent royal wedding dresses, offering Maera a wellspring of inspiration. The dresses looked stunning, and the designer had drew them in such detail Maera felt she could almost see the actual dresses in front of her. Such a variety of designs on different body types, each dress conveying the true beauty of House Targaryen.

It was an immense pressure to pick and create such a masterpiece to be worn on an important event. An occasion that would not only bind her to Aemond for as long as they lived, but would be used as an excuse to form advantageous political alliances, over wine, food and dancing.

Overwhelmed by the array of choices, Maera felt a reassuring squeeze on her hand from Helaena. "I can't wait to see you in a wedding gown, Maera," Helaena exclaimed, a warm smile on her lips that prompted Maera to respond with a shy but genuine smile of her own.

The three women meticulously analyzed the designs, weighing the pros and cons of each. However, for every appealing aspect, there seemed to be ten more drawbacks – the designs were either too dated, impractical, or simply unflattering for Maera's figure. She couldn't help but nod in agreement.

Maera turned to address one of Alicent’s trusted servants, Talya, who stood diligently with the other maids in the corner of the room. “Can you please fetch me a piece of parchment and a quill? I wish to try something.”

The woman nodded, quickly procuring the requested items and handed them to Maera, who was ready to take matters into her own hands.

As Maera's quill danced across the parchment, her vision for the wedding dress slowly came to life as Helaena and Alicent watched with bated breath. She began by lightly sketching the outline of her form, the lines of her drawing emphasizing the curvature of her fuller bust and rounded hips. These were the features that would have the most significant impact on how the dress would flatter her figure.

With precision and a touch of creativity, Maera borrowed elements from various gowns she had admired in the sketches. The shoulders, reminiscent of the dragon wings, came from Queen Alicent's own wedding gown, flaring outward to create a regal and dramatic effect. Maera added a subtle touch—an attachment for a chiffon cape that would flow gracefully behind her.

Her gaze shifted to another sketch, inspired by the bodice of the late Lady Laena Velaryon's gown. Maera borrowed the idea of an accentuated bodice that would emphasize her natural curves, giving the dress a more defined shape and elegance.

She then turned her attention to Helaena's own wedding dress, a masterpiece that featured a layering of different fabrics around the hips. Maera skillfully sketched this layering, envisioning a central underskirt in pristine white, flanked on either side by golden shimmering fabric adorned with intricate black swirls.

Lastly, Maera drew inspiration from Queen Alysanne's dress. Though some might consider it dated, the voluminous skirt of Alysanne's gown held a timeless beauty. It flowed dramatically, drawing attention to the narrow waist of the bodice, a feature Maera was eager to replicate in her own design.

With the design complete, Maera presented her vision to Helaena, Alicent, and the dress designer, who couldn't help but marvel at her talent.

The designer, awestruck by Maera's talent, couldn't help but comment, "Perhaps in a previous life, Lady Maera, you were a seamstress." Maera chuckled at the notion, humbly dismissing the idea.

Turning her attention to her future sister-in-law and Queen Mother, Maera asked eagerly, "What do you both think?" Helaena's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she examined the sketch.

"Remarkable design! What colors do you think would be most suitable?" she inquired.

Maera rose from her seat to get a better look at the array of fabrics laid out before her. She carefully examined each one, lifting them to catch the light and see how they interacted. After a moment of contemplation, she made her selections. With a discerning eye, she chose a luxurious turquoise satin for the bodice, adorned with deeper blue embroidered swirls. For the accent color, she settled on a dark gold, almost bronze, fabric that would complement the turquoise perfectly.

Her gaze then shifted to the creamy-gold fabric meant for the layered skirts around the hips. After careful consideration, she made her choice for more intricate patterns on the dress—a scale-patterned, shimmering black that would contrast beautifully with the bright white she had selected for the underskirts.

Gathering the fabric samples, she brought them back to her seat, her quill at the ready. With precision and care, she began to mark her design, drawing annotations to indicate where each piece of fabric would go. The dress was taking shape not only in her mind but on the parchment before her, a testament to her creativity and attention to detail.

Maera, with a discerning eye, noticed Queen Alicent's silence and couldn't help but ask, "Your Grace, do you approve of the design?"

Queen Alicent took a moment to appreciate the creation before her and replied, "It's beautiful, very befitting of a Targaryen princess." However, her concern showed as she added, "I worry, though, that the neckline might be considered… a touch immodest for the Sept."

The dressmaker, eager to address the Queen's concerns, chimed in, "Your Grace, with the utmost respect, Lady Maera has a larger chest area than most noblewomen. No amount of fabric would truly hide that fact."

Maera, trying to lighten the moment, quipped, "It is a blessing and a curse, Your Grace."

Queen Alicent chuckled, responding, "You'll be thankful for it when it comes to feeding your future babies, sweet girl." Maera, feeling a mix of emotions at the thought, nodded in response.

Turning her attention back to the dressmaker, Queen Alicent inquired, "Can the design be executed?"

The blonde-haired dressmaker, with determination in her eyes, replied, "Absolutely, Your Grace. My seamstresses and I will work tirelessly, day and night, to ensure Lady Maera's gown is perfect. We can make any needed alterations here at the Red Keep a few days before the ceremony."

With the reassurance of the dressmaker, the women expressed their gratitude to the vendors and left the room, ready to continue their preparations for the grand wedding that awaited.

That night, Maera, with the assistance of two chambermaids, helped her Queen prepare for bed, her hands deftly unfastening the intricate laces of Helaena’s gown, allowing it to cascade like a waterfall of rich fabric. With the queen's attire removed, her undergarments were exchanged for a more comfortable nightshift, crafted from soft linens that cradled her form. As Maera began to undo the many braids in Helaena’s regal updo, the Queen's enthusiasm from the day's events was still palpable. She exclaimed, "I've always wanted a sister," before correcting herself, "I mean, I know I have Rhaenyra, but we were always worlds apart. Having a sister who is also my best friend is truly a blessing from the Gods."

Maera smiled warmly at the Queen, her heart touched by Helaena's words. While Maera did have sisters of her own, her bond with Helaena was unique and held a special place in her heart. “We have always been sisters, Helaena, the wedding will not change that. But it will be nice to be apart of the same House as you,” Maera replied as she ran a brush through Helaena’s silver locks.

As the maids guided the Queen toward the bed, moving in harmony, they ensured that every need was met. They fluffed the pillows, plumped the duvet, and arranged the linens with precision. Helaena, with a graceful ease, reclined on the bed, her expression one of tranquil repose. The maids then withdrew to begin dimming the candles around the chambers, leaving Maera to pull up the blankets to cover Helaena’s lap, her legs still showing bruising from the incident with Aegon.

Catching Maera staring, Helaena quickly pulled the fabric towards her in order to cover her lower limbs, almost as if she was ashamed of the markings she bore from the attack. To ease the tension brewing, Maera then tucked the duvet around the Queen with practiced expertise, as she brought up the topic that had been on her mind.

"You know, I haven't seen Aemond since yesterday. Nor have we spoken properly in over two weeks," she mentioned, "I hope things won't be awkward."

Helaena, relaxing against her pillows with a reassuring smile, replied, "My brother, despite his flaws, will make a good husband to you, Maera. I know this to be true. Perhaps clearing the air and spending some time with one another would ease your transition into marriage."

What Maera didn't reveal to Helaena was that she and Aemond had not properly spoken since the incident in his chambers—the kiss that had left things between them unresolved. They had encountered each other when Maera had confronted Aegon, but the kiss remained unaddressed.

After bidding Helaena good night, Maera made her way back to her chambers, where Thena awaited her. The faithful maid undressed her and gently unraveled Maera's brown hair, the striking silver streak glinting in the soft light of the hearth. Thena dressed Maera in her nightclothes and assured her she would see her in the morning before closing the chamber doors.

Restless from a day of wedding planning, she attempted to read a book, ‘The Loves of Queen Nymeria’, but the tale only made her more unsettled, as the thrilling freedom of the life of princess caused Maera to long for a much different future. The Dornish woman’s three husbands served her only as counselors and consorts, never seeking to rule over her or take her power, enamoured by her beauty and cunning. A stark contrast to Westerosi custom, where men absorbed the power their wives were made to give them the minute they were bound before the Seven.

The rain outside gently tapped on her window, creating a soothing rhythm. Beyond the glass, the world was veiled in a soft, silver curtain of water. Maera's gaze wandered to the window and below it she locked eyes on her writing desk, where the stack of old correspondence lay. Thinking it was unnecessary to hold onto the letters that would have been delivered after her supposed execution, she decided to dispose of them.

Rising from her bed and making her way over to her writing desk, Maera picked up the sealed parchments, each addressed for different recipients. There were two for Rain House, one for Hornhill meant for Wynni, another for Sabine in the Westerlands, one destined for the Citadel, intended for her brothers pursuing the maester's path, and finally one for Essos, meant for Dermot, who continued his travels. One by one, she fed them to the fire, watching as the flames consumed the words until they were reduced to ash.

Maera double-checked the count. Six. Not seven. She had originally written seven. One letter was missing. Her heart sank as she realized it was the one addressed to Prince Aemond. Panic set in as she frantically searched the area near the hearth and under her desk, desperately looking for the missing letter. Perhaps she had just dropped it as she had picked up the stack from the desk? No, not on the floor. Her hands trembled as she rummaged through parchment and finery, heart racing as each passing moment intensified the dread that gnawed within her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she muttered, beginning to turn her chamber upside down in an attempt to find it.

The soft candlelight, which usually bathed the chamber in a warm glow, now cast eerie shadows that danced menacingly along the walls. Lady Maera's breaths came in rapid gasps, her mind racing with thoughts of the consequences should the letter remain missing. She had narrowly avoided death once, surely the Gods would not allow her to avoid it twice.

Then, a voice broke the silence, asking, "Looking for this?"

Tags: @blue-serendipity @marvelescvpe @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[vendettaspathfanfic]

Chapter Six

(Chapter Index)

(Previous)

(Next)

This evening, dinner was a simple affair, with only Sonic and his mother seated at the elaborately set table in the grand dining room, a familiar scene given his father's common late returns from the palace. He was a man of significant influence and stature, serving as the indispensable advisor to King Maximillian, a role that demanded much of his time. At seven years of age, Sonic found his father's endless discussions on the complexities of governance tediously dull, a stark contrast to the vibrant tales of his own day that his father rarely had the patience to entertain.

In the comforting presence of his mother, however, Sonic was able to talk as much as he wanted. He excitedly recounted the adventurous escapades from the latest installment of his beloved cartoon series, speaking with animated gestures while their longstanding family butler quietly placed plates of food before them. Unfortunately, tonight's dinner featured lobster, a dish that Sonic loathed.

The pungent aroma that wafted from the plate caused Sonic's face to contort in displeasure, his nose scrunching up as if to ward off the offending scent. He turned to his mother, seeking a compromise, only to find her gaze lingering on a cherished photograph adorning the wall. The image captured a moment of regal splendor, depicting her alongside her father and the other esteemed members of the Royal Court.

"Mom?" Sonic inquired softly, attempting to draw her attention. Receiving no immediate response, he pressed further, the word "mama" punctuated by a gentle nudge on her arm.

His mother momentarily snapped out of her reverie, her eyes refocusing with a slight flutter of her lashes as she angled her body to address her son with a soft “sorry, hun. What?”

Sonic's face contorted into a grimace, his voice dripping with distaste as he lamented, "I don’t want this again… it makes me wanna puke." His words elicited a disdainful huff from the butler, who promptly exited the room with a swirl of disappointment.

"It’s good for you, Sonic," she responded, her voice steady and reassuring, "besides, you remember what we’ve said about being wasteful."

Defiance etched itself into the young hedgehog's posture; he folded his arms across his chest like a barrier, slinking further into the embrace of his chair. His youthful face was wrinkled with obstinacy, as the furrow of his brow channeled the essence of his aversion. "But it's gross!" Sonic retorted, the fervor of his sentiment about the unwanted meal burning as brightly as ever.

"Just eat it, please?" The plea from his mother reached his ears as he turned his head away, embodying the spirit of rebellion. "If you do, we’ll get ice cream and candy."

The promise of such a sweet reward sparked curiosity in Sonic, and he swiveled his head back in her direction, catching the nascent smile blooming on her face, a signal of the incentive that awaited him.

With an effort that felt monumental to his young mind, the little blue hedgehog managed to ingest the detested lobster dish, the glazed carrots that accompanied it no less infamous in his eyes. Upon completing the ordeal, he beckoned for his mother's attention, which had drifted back to the photograph on the wall. She met his gaze with a smile that radiated pride and affection, a smile that could brighten the darkest of rooms. Sonic cherished that smile, for it was not just a mere curve of the lips; it was a symbol of his success in bringing her joy. That was a reward far greater than the promise of sweets.

"Good job, Scourge." The admiration in her voice was unmistakable as Sonic eagerly leaped from his seat to envelop her in a tight embrace. But as he held her close, an unsettling thought wormed its way into his consciousness, leaving him with an unnerving sense that releasing her from his arms could mean never being able to hug her again. It was an absurd notion, surely, for she was ever-present in his life, a constant in his home.

But, she’s never called him Scourge before.

Before he could ask where she heard that name, the space she occupied in his arms became empty. Darkness enveloped him, his world tipping into chaos as he tumbled into an abyss that seemed to have no end. A sense of vertigo overwhelmed him; his surroundings stripped away as if the earth itself had opened beneath him. He flailed, attempting to cry out, but found his voice trapped, his throat constricted by an unseen force.

In the midst of his panic, Sonic's efforts intensified, desperation fueling his struggle. His attempts finally culminated in a muffled, yet alarmed "mmh!" To his relief, the sensation of falling ceased abruptly, replaced by the oppressive reality of a worn, filthy mattress pressing against his back. Heat enveloped him, the summer's sweltering embrace untempered by the absence of air conditioning in the orphanage.

As his eyes snapped open, he lay there, drenched in sweat, his heart racing as the remnants of the nightmare clung to him. He struggled to ground himself back in reality, but it soon became clear that once again, he was a sixteen-year-old green hedgehog named Scourge.

Thankfully, when he awoke with a start, his sudden movement and noise didn't disturb Fiona, who was lying on her side, facing him, lost in deep slumber. The moon's soft glow streamed into the room through the slightly ajar window, casting moonlight gently on her beautiful face. As she dreamt what he hoped was a peaceful dream, her delicate eyelids fluttered.

The faint sheen on her soft, heart-shaped lips revealed the lingering touch of the chapstick she had applied before bed, adding an extra allure to her serene visage. With great care not to disturb her, he turned onto his side to face her, tenderly running his fingers through the fur on the exposed side of her muzzle, relishing the softness and finding solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment. A sense of calm washed over him, slowing his racing heart and quieting his restless thoughts as he took in every detail of his girlfriend, peacefully asleep before him. In that hushed stillness, he found a rare and precious moment to simply appreciate the beauty and peacefulness of his lover.

Realizing that sleep would elude him for the time being, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before quietly rising out of bed. Descending the stairs, he made his way to the kitchen, where he reached for a water bottle resting on the counter.

As the lukewarm liquid flowed down his throat, a distinct thumping noise echoed from downstairs, instantly seizing his attention. The source was unmistakable—it emanated from the direction of the freezer.

With a sense of urgency, he hastily replaced the bottle's lid, a quiet “fuck,” escaping his lips as the realization struck that they had neglected to assign someone to keep watch over the freezer that held Miles. Carelessly tossing the bottle on the counter, he grabbed and lit a lantern and dashed down to the freezer, swiftly unlocking it and wrenching the door open.

Thankfully, Miles had made only minimal headway in his attempts to free himself. The most significant achievement was toppling his chair to the ground and making almost no progress in loosening the ropes covered with duct tape.

Amused by the sight that greeted him, Scourge placed the lantern on a mildew-covered shelf and shut the freezer door behind him. "Are you enjoying yourself there, Miles?" he inquired, his tone tinged with condescension.

Miles continued to struggle against his bindings, clearly disoriented from the head injury he had suffered earlier. His mouth muffled by the tape, he could only respond with garbled, indiscernible words.

"I'm sure whatever you just said would have been so terribly hurtful," Scourge began in a mockingly sorrowful tone as he righted the chair. "But it's nothing compared to what you're going to get if you don't tell me what I want to know." With a swift motion, he tore the tape from Miles' mouth, inadvertently pulling away a thin layer of fur from around his muzzle in the process.

Grimacing in pain, Miles averted his gaze from Scourge, his breath coming in ragged pants as he struggled against the dizziness and the throbbing ache in his head.

"Now I can see you renovated the castle a lot since you screwed me over and got me thrown in jail," Scourge remarked, leaning casually against a nearby shelf. "looks real nice, but I’m sure in the process you souped up the security, right? So, if I were to try to waltz in and take back what you took from me, I’d be screwed wouldn’t I? So, either you tell me how to get past security, or you’ll end up getting more than just a punch."

Miles steadied his breath, slowly turning his head to meet Scourge's aiming gaze. With gritted teeth, he growled, "You can't."

Grasping the chair that held Miles, Scourge cocked his head, a grin of amusement playing on his lips. "Well, I doubt that's true. They told us we couldn't escape from Zone Jail, yet here we are. Even the tightest ship can spring a leak."

Miles' widened gaze shifted between both of Scourge's eyes as he swallowed thickly. "Not this ship, you fool. Every doorway, hallway, and corner is monitored by scanning posts. And unlike the ones attached to police lines, this system doesn't just sound an alarm. Every entrance and exit is impenetrable to anyone lacking clearance. Not even rats could infiltrate the sewers. And all of that's hardly a fraction of our security measures."

Impressed, Scourge raised his brows, emitting a low whistle of astonishment. "You've really built an airtight system there, my friend. It almost seems... desperate?"

"With the rapid advancements in technology and cybernetic implants, we can't afford to leave any vulnerability unaddressed," Miles retorted, narrowing his eyes as he regarded Scourge with undisguised contempt, as though he were less than the dirt on his shoes. "As I mentioned before, nothing I can say will aid you in the slightest."

Scourge sighed and shook his head. "That really sucks, man," he said as he exited the freezer, closing the door behind him and ignoring Miles' inquiries about his destination.

Hurrying upstairs to his and Fiona's room, he knelt beside her bag to retrieve her combat knife. Startled by the sound of someone rummaging through her belongings, Fiona's eyes flew open, and she sat up, her expression softening as she recognized Scourge's silhouette, relieved that it was him and not an intruder.

"Jeez, you scared me," Fiona sighed, sleepiness evident in her voice as she rubbed her face. "Are you lookin’ for cigarettes or something?"

"Nope," Scourge replied, revealing the knife he had acquired. "Miles is awake and refusing to talk."

"I'll accompany you," Fiona offered, stifling a yawn as she retrieved her bag from his reach, pulling out a pen and an old receipt. "I can write down what he says while you take care of the dirty work."

"Attagirl," Scourge praised, grinning as he affectionately tousled her hair. "Let's go."

Guiding her through the dimly lit building, they traversed downstairs to the freezer, where Miles continued to struggle to escape.

"Why's she here?" Miles grunted, straining against the duct tape and rope binding his wrists.

"If you happen to come up with a way for us to get through, she'll take note of it. If not, well, then you're of no use to us. And we can't exactly release you since you know too much, so it seems the next step is to kill you," Scourge chuckled, delighting in the horror that washed over Miles' face. "But don't worry. I'll make it nice and slow, giving you time to reconsider and perhaps change my mind about doing it. However, first..." His gaze shifted to his tails, tightly bound together with rope and duct tape. "We need to make sure that you won't have any chances of flying away. Fiona, you might want to fetch the first aid kit. Can't risk him bleeding out before he has the chance to speak."

"W-wait! No! Please don't do this!" Miles cried out, his breaths quickening into hyperventilation as he watched Fiona obediently exit the freezer.

"Listen, I didn't want it to come to this, but much like you, my hands are tied," Scourge said, his voice laced with feigned sympathy as he leaned against a shelf, crossing his arms.

"No! I can help you gain entry! You won't be able to do it without me!" he screamed, his wide eyes blinded by fear.

Scourge's expression transformed into a wide, menacing grin as he slowly uncrossed his arms and straightened up to his full height.

“Really?” The smug green hedgehog asked, striding over to the young two-tailed fox and looming over him, leaning in close as he jabbed his forefinger against his chest. “Well, it’s a good thing you remembered. You could’ve been killed.” His smug grin suddenly gave way to a menacing glare. In a swift motion, he withdrew his hand from Miles’ chest and delivered a harsh slap across his face, causing the chair to wobble and splitting his lip. Scourge quickly steadied the chair and grasped Miles’ chin, forcing him to meet his intense gaze. “Don’t you fucking lie to me again, Miles,” he growled, baring his sharp teeth, sending shivers down Miles’ spine.

When Fiona returned, Scourge briefed her on their change of plans. She took the pen they had previously acquired and began to write finely on the back of the receipt.

The success of their mission hinged on having the right technology at their disposal. Miles, the primary designer of the security system, was indispensable to their plans. Their first objective would be to hack the body scan post for entry, a task that required a neural link to connect to Miles, allowing him to access necessary technology through the eyes of the person with the implant. However, due to the Destructix's distrust of him, he would have to be guarded and sequestered away from the castle to prevent any potential betrayal.

To bypass the body scan post, one would need optical implants that would allow them to scan the post, enabling Miles to use the neural link to hack into it and grant every individual passing through with clearance. Yet, this was only part of the larger challenge— the entire security system needed to recognize the Destructix members as authorized personnel. To achieve this, someone would require an interface plug, a wired implant located at the back of the head, along with a neural interface chip. When the wire was extended and connected to specific machinery, it would grant the individual the capability to hack into the technology.

Once someone was plugged into an access point with the interface, Miles could then proceed to hack the entire security system. This would provide the Destructix with unhindered movement throughout the castle, enabling them to locate the remaining members of the Suppression Squad and eliminate them, ultimately allowing the Destructix to seize control of the throne.

Before Scourge and Fiona could explain the plan to the Destructix in the morning, they found themselves contending with the aftermath of Predator, Lightning, and Flying's excessive drinking the previous night.

"Well, I don't know why you drank so much of that crap, but I hope it made you happy," Simon grumbled with a scoff as he entered through the front door, carrying a tray of to-go cups from a nearby coffee shop.

"Mmmm'kay. Shut up, Simon," Predator groaned, his eyes tightly shut as he sat hunched over in a nearby chair, nursing his throbbing head.

With a roll of his eyes, Simon handed Predator a cup of black coffee, scoffing, "drink up." He then turned his attention to Flying, who was slouched against a nearby wall, struggling to keep his eyes open as his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. "Got some for you too, Flying," Simon said, prompting Flying's eyes to sluggishly roll toward him, blinking one at a time.

"Is that coffee-tea-fre-" Flying began, before a sudden wave of nausea overtook him, causing his eyes to bulge as he clamped a hand over his mouth and gagged. He scrambled to his feet, dashed toward a nearby window, flung it open, and retched outside.

Simon groaned in disgust and called out, "I'll put this in the kitchen, then..." before handing Scourge his coffee.

"Thanks, man," Scourge said with a courteous nod.

"Thanks for not drinking as much as these idiots," Simon remarked, his disdain evident in his voice. "Have you seen Lightning, Fiona, and Toxic?"

“Lightning’s probably still asleep cause I haven’t seen him yet. Fiona’s giving Toxic a haircut so she looks less like her wanted picture and also we saw a daddy long leg crawl out of one of the mats in her hair.” Scourge said, casually drinking his coffee.

Simon blinked a few times in surprise before muttering, “go figure… Well, if you see the girls, let ‘em know they got drinks with their name on them in the kitchen. I’m gonna wake up Lightning.”

As expected, Simon located Lightning, who was sprawled out on a set of child-sized mattresses, emitting loud snores. With a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head, Simon set aside Lightning’s coffee, knelt down, and nudged Lightning's shoulder, attempting to rouse him. When his efforts failed, Simon noticed that Lightning still had water in his bottle. He unscrewed the cap, tossed it aside, and emptied the remaining contents onto Lightning's head.

Lightning groaned and attempted to turn his face away as the water splashed against his forehead. Without opening his eyes, he managed to mumble out a slurred, "hello?" before some water entered his mouth, causing him to choke and erupt into a fit of coughing as he hastily sat up.

"Hello, Lightning. Coffee's here," Simon said with annoyance, standing up.

As Lightning recovered from the coughing fit, he grumbled and shook his head in an attempt to rid his fur of the water, groaning as the motion exacerbated his headache and nausea.

"You didn’t have to waterboard me, Simon," he groaned, squinting as the bright light aggravated his newly awakened eyes.

"Don’t be so dramatic. You gotta get straightened up. Fiona and Scourge got Miles to talk, and they’ve got a plan they want to tell us," Simon responded, offering Lightning his coffee.

"I don’t want anything else in my stomach right now…" Lightning groaned, the scent of the coffee in his hand intensifying his nausea.

"Well, if you get sick, either puke out a window, or if you do it in here, you're cleaning it. This place is filthy enough without three drunk bastards making it worse," Simon declared firmly, his distaste unwavering.

"Agh… Fuck off…" Lightning slurred, his struggle evident as he fought to keep the vomit down. He staggered to his feet and stumbled toward the window, grappling with it in his disoriented state.

"For crying out loud…" Simon growled, stepping in to open the window for Lightning, who leaned out and threw up.

As he left Lightning to deal with his hangover, Simon muttered bitterly, "it’s like a house full of toddlers. Hell, today I haven’t even had a problem with the actual toddler here.”

After a wait that spanned several hours, the group finally regained enough composure to gather and listen to Scourge and Fiona outline the plan they had devised. They arranged their seats into a communal circle within the same room where they had convened the night before.

“How can we trust Miles to do what we say?” Predator questioned, his voice tinged with doubt.

“He doesn’t have a choice. I know from experience he’s a coward that’ll do anything to live. One of ya will need to stay with him while we work and be ready to gut him if he makes even one wrong move,” Scourge replied, his arms extending in a languid stretch as he reclined back in his chair with an air of nonchalance.

“I volunteer-steer-beer!” Flying burst out with gusto, only to wince as his booming, obnoxious voice aggravated his pounding headache.

“Alright, knock yourself out,” Scourge casually responded with a dismissive shrug, now leaning forward in his seat, his fingers weaving together in front of him.

“Who's getting the implants?” inquired Lightning, downing some ibuprofen that Fiona had supplied to ease his discomfort.

“The rest of you guys. We never know what we’ll run into. Can’t leave any stones unturned,” Fiona declared, her voice firm and decisive.

“Me too?” Toxic chimed in, twirling one of the short pigtails Fiona had fashioned in her hair.

“No way, kid,” Scourge stated adamantly with a shake of his head. “Cybernetics aren’t good for you when you’re that little.”

“I’m taller than Ren!” Toxic contended, climbing onto her chair and stretching to her tiptoes in an attempt to demonstrate her height.

“Tough. You’re still barely taller than a fire hydrant,” Scourge teased, his mocking tone evident. “You gotta wait til you're older.”

“Sit down before you fall and crack your head open,” Simon commanded, his tone authoritative, directed at the young blue hedgehog.

With a scowl of indignation and a growl meant to convey ferocity, Toxic reluctantly descended from her perch and slouched back into her seat, her arms folded in a tight cross.

“Save it,” Fiona interjected with an eye roll, “anyways, Simon, Lightning, and Predator; you guys are going in first. Grab some uniforms from the guard locker room and you’ll easily pass as one of the guards. They know Scourge and I too well, so we’ll wait until the security system is down and you find Patch and Alicia to storm in and join the fight.”

“But what do I do?” Toxic mused aloud, now reclining sideways in her chair, her legs swinging idly over the edge.

“You’ll help Flying guard Miles,” Fiona replied, her tone conveying confidence that this modest assignment would satisfy Toxic’s desire to contribute.

“But before all of this, we gotta remember implants cost money that we don’t got. So…” Scourge began, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through him, his hands eagerly rubbing together, “We’ll be ‘borrowing’ some money from a bank out of town.”

This infectious excitement quickly rippled through the group, with members exchanging eager grins and approving murmurs.

"It's in a pretty wealthy neighborhood. And hey, even you can join us, Toxic," Fiona said, her arms crossed, a hint of pride in her voice as she gauged the group's reactions.

"I can?" Toxic gasped, her voice lifting with excitement as she bounded out of her chair and approached Fiona, her tail wagging like a flag of enthusiasm.

"She can?" Scourge echoed, his tone a mixture of surprise and concern, unsure of involving someone so young in such a dangerous activity.

"Yes," Fiona confirmed, assuring the group with a calm authority, "like I said, it’ll be an easy heist. She can help us take out security. We’ve all seen how she can kick ass. Simon, you can train her on a pistol."

Simon, looking somewhat resigned, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. "If you insist, ma’am," he conceded, albeit with heavy reluctance.

"Babe, are you nuts? She’s four years old!" Scourge protested vehemently, his arms thrown up in disbelief.

"So what? Don’t be a fucking dickface!" Toxic retorted sharply, flipping Scourge off with her ring finger. Scourge responded in kind, sneering as he mirrored her gesture.

Pulling Scourge aside from the rest of the group, Fiona's voice dropped to a hushed, persuasive tone. "Look, we made a deal with her that if she didn’t do what we told her she’d be rat food and clearly it’s been working. This is part of that deal, hun. Besides, if she managed to put us through that much hell at first, imagine what she’d do to plain ol’ guards."

"How is it worth the risk?" Scourge pressed, his apprehension evident as he pondered the unpredictable nature of their youngest member.

"It’s like I said, if we broke out of Zone Jail of all things, we can rob a fucking bank even with your crackhead sister tagging along. Besides, we need everyone from the gang there to do different things, and do you really wanna leave her alone? She could wander off and a bounty hunter would snatch her. Then what? Game over," Fiona argued, her logic resonating with the risks they faced.

Scourge's jaw tightened, the truthfulness of Fiona's words sinking in, especially the part about leaving Toxic alone. With a heavy exhale of resignation, he muttered, "this better work."

"It will. You’ll see," Fiona reassured him with a confidence that bordered on certainty, punctuating her promise with a light kiss on his cheek before returning to the group. "We’ll start preppin’ tomorrow. Get all the equipment we need." She turned to address Lightning, Flying, and Predator, her face scrunching in disgust as the pungent smell of vomit and alcohol reached her. "For now, there’s a gym with showers not far from here. Let’s make it reek a little less around the place, hm?"

Nodding in silent accord, the gang made their way to the gym, their footsteps echoing against the pavement as they traversed a desolate stretch of the neighborhood. The eerie stillness of the area hinted at its sparse population, offering them a cloak of anonymity that would aid in evading any potential bounty hunters on the prowl for Toxic.

Upon reaching the gym, they made a beeline for the bathroom and obtained the much-needed cleaning supplies from the dispensers, the clinking of coins and the soft hum of the machines filling the otherwise quiet space. As they each cleaned up in their respective shower stalls, the sound of water cascading down in rivulets served as a welcome reminder of the simple luxury they hadn’t had since their escape from prison.

Despite Scourge's usual indifference to cleanliness, he found solace in the sensation of grime washing away from his body as he stood beneath the shower's stream. Closing his eyes, he allowed the water to cleanse not just his physical form, but also his spirit, feeling the weight of his troubles slowly dissolve and disappear down the drain. During his time in prison, he had been constantly on edge, his natural strength and agility restrained by a control collar that left him vulnerable and exposed to frequent beatings. However, as the water flowed over his face and quills, he realized that despite the lingering risks, he was finally beginning to believe that everything would ultimately be alright. He resolved to face whatever challenges lay ahead with newfound determination and resilience.

After everyone had completed their showers, they returned to the orphanage. While some members of their group were still recovering from the effects of the previous night's revelry, Simon took Toxic to the backyard to teach her how to shoot empty beer bottles off the fence using a silenced pistol.

"Keep one hand on the bottom, Toxic, and don't touch the trigger until you're ready to shoot. Keep your finger to the side, like this," Simon instructed, kneeling beside her and guiding her small hands to demonstrate the proper way to hold the firearm.

"Okay," Toxic responded with an eager nod. "Can I shoot now?"

"Not yet. First, aim at the space between the two small bumps and make sure it's pointed at what you want to shoot," Simon advised.

"Okay," Toxic responded, her small hands adjusting her grip on the pistol with determination. "Now can I shoot?"

"Go ahead," Simon replied with a nod.

Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger, and the sharp crack of the gunshot was followed by the satisfying shatter of the bottle.

Toxic gasped in amazement and giggled, her eyes sparkling with pride as she beamed at Simon. "I fuckin’ gotted it!"

"You sure did," Simon said with a soft chuckle. "Now take out the rest of them."

Leaning against the weathered wall of the building, Scourge and Fiona observed as Toxic skillfully shot several more bottles, her focus unyielding and her aim true.

"Not bad. She's a natural marksman in the making," Fiona remarked with a lopsided grin.

"Good thing she's only shooting bottles," Scourge snidely remarked, retrieving a cigarette and lighter from his jacket pocket. Fiona signaled for one, holding two fingers in his direction, and Scourge obliged, lighting both of their cigarettes. As they inhaled, Scourge wrapped his arm around Fiona, the sun casting a warm glow over them as it descended toward the horizon.

"Do you think we should check on Miles?" Scourge asked, a sudden pang of concern causing his heart to skip a beat.

"I'll feed him later, but there's no way he's getting out. Simon and I tested that padlock we got earier, and it's secure," she replied confidently, referring to the heavy duty lock lock they had obtained during their earlier supply run.

Scourge smirked with pride, imagining the futile attempts Miles might be making to escape, a sense of control and satisfaction washing over him.

"Not much longer," Fiona began after blowing a cloud of smoke out of her mouth, the wisps curling and dissipating in the air, creating a momentary haze around her. Her eyes, filled with a determined glint, scanned the horizon as if envisioning the future. "We'll rule this world again. We'll bring everything under our control, just like it used to be."

"Fiona," Scourge chuckled softly, the sound mixing with the rustle of the wind, and dropped his spent cigarette, the feeble embers flickering before he snuffed them out under the sole of his shoe, his eyes fixed on his lover's with an intense yet tender gaze. "We already do."

[apteryxparvus]

L ♡ V E R ⇌ L ⦻ S E R — chapter 7

Chapter seven — Who run the world? Girls.

Pairing — Scaramouche / Female Reader

Content warning — swearing • mentions of bullying

Summary: In a twist of unfortunate events, you find out that being exposed as the target of Kunikuzushi middle school bullying escapades was just the beginning of your troubles. To your dismay, you’re thrown even deeper into the glamorous but artificial world of celebrities. Oh, and the cherry on top? You’re forced to pretend to be in a long-term romantic relationship with none other than said ex-bully. All because of a careless misclick by his social media manager.

prev • masterlist • next

The rest of the day seems to pass by in a blur — your heart is racing, waiting for both Scaramouche’s response and his manager’s, but unfortunately, neither comes.

You try to focus on your university assignments, but the words blur together on the page, and you end up reading and rereading the same paragraph for over twenty minutes. Alhaitam discovers you dozing off at your desk, the textbook’s rough pages leaving little marks on your forehead. Noticing your tired eyes, he gently moves you to your bed, leaving a tall glass of water on the bedside table.

Monday morning arrives in a blink, and you groggily wake up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Your phone remains silent, and with your social media accounts set to private, no hate messages await you.

You yawn, stretching as you push the blankets aside, and sit up. Your phone pings and you look at the incoming message.

Author's note: i'm so so sorry for the mini hiatus :(( i had some rough shifts at work, and now im visiting my home country till next wednesday and i got zero free time

Taglist — @scaramoo @bananasquash @yukiipc @theblueblub @feiherp @scarletttcroww @farelady-fate @skyoverkill1 @reversearrowhead @magica-ren @sakurapeach @lazy-sanns @siasseltzers @gatorcatally @atlaincorrect @skulzooka

[mayajadewrites]

Levi Ackerman x Reader: Almost

Chapter Seven: Good Things

Chapter Summary: We got some more knowledge about reader and her past, and how she deals with relationships.

I'm gonna testing writing in a first person instead, writing "you" is starting to give me the ick LOL. Let me know what you think! It's still LEVI ACKERMAN X READER.

"I should get going." I stand up from the couch, the aftermath of the euphoria you just experienced taking up the space in my mind.

"If you want to." Levi didn't protest, wiping his lip with his thumb. "I'll drive you."

My legs were still shaking from Levi devouring your pussy, so you walked behind him so he couldn't see the embarrassment.

A man has never made me cum before. This man's dick has not even been inside me and he made me cum with his mouth and fingers. So many feelings swirled my thoughts, the first instinct I feel is to run.

My father is not the best example on what a man should be. He cheated on your mother multiple times, and he always told her he would change. Change never came.

He left when I were 14.

I witnessed my mother's heartbreak as she got rid of his things in my home, one by one.

"Why wasn't I enough?" I would hear your mom on the phone with her sister, gasping for air. "I gave that man a child, my entire life, and he threw it away like it didn't matter."

That conversation is burned into my brain.

People leave. Men leave. I know this.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Levi turned around, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. "You're never this quiet."

"I'm just tired." I briefly look into his eyes, leaning my cheek into his palm.

Levi accepted this answer and helped me into the car, studying my movements.

The car ride home was silent, but my mind was loud.

I don't deserve this.

He's gonna leave like your father did.

He doesn't want me.

Levi pulls up to my apartment, analyzing my face. He knows something is up, but he doesn't want to pry just yet.

"Thank you, I had a great time tonight." I look up into his eyes, feeling a genuine grin form on your face. Levi returned my grin with a slight smile, kissing my lips briefly.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He whispered, kissing my lips twice more.

I walk into your apartment and look back once to see Levi leaning against the Range Rover, with a half smirk on his face. I didn't have the energy to make a bratty remark, so I locked the door and listened to the sound of his car leaving.

I've never been able to regulate your emotions and address your trauma. I definitely have undiagnosed anxiety, depression, and possibly more.

To be fair, I've never had to address it. I've never felt this way about anyone. The reason I've only fucked men and not had feelings after the fact is because I wouldn't let myself. I am petrified of becoming your mother.

Levi doesn't deserve a woman like that. He's successful, wealthy, has women pining after him everywhere he goes.

What's so special about me?

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

Bzzzzz.

Levi: Sweet dreams.

Me: Goodnight Mr. Ackerman.

Levi: Brat.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

The next day I get up for your 6 AM shift, unsure if I'm ready to see Nina again after my drunken escapades. Nina is very understanding, but she likes to be... well, dramatic.

"Good morning sunshine!" Nina wrapped her apron around her waist. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling fine." I grab your apron off of the hook. "How are you?"

"I'm good! Ready for the day!" Nina smiled, clapping her hands together. "How was your morning after with Levi?"

"Morning after he took care of me and made sure I didn't throw up in my sleep, suffocate and die? It was good."

"Yikes, let me shut my big ass mouth." Nina giggled, leaving the back room.

The smell of coffee grounds lifted my spirits, temporarily helping me forget about all my feelings.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

I was on bar today, making everyones drink. The café was booming with people - students, blue collar workers, and everyone in between.

"Good morning, beautiful." A deep voice interrupted my thoughts. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as my eyes met his.

"Good morning Levi." I smile, brewing his black tea. "How's your day looking today?"

"It's better now." He grabbed the cup from me, taking a sip immediately. "It would've been better if I woke up next to you, too."

A blush caressed my face as I shook my head. "I don't think you want to see me every morning as soon as I wake up. Sometimes my mouth is hanging open, I'm drooling -"

"Funny you think you weren't doing that the other night." Levi chuckled, his eyes scanning your face. "You don't look like you slept well."

Must be the bags under my eyes.

"You're so observant." I roll my eyes, beginning another coffee order. "I didn't really."

"I have to take this-" Levi held his phone in the air. "I'll talk to you soon. Have a good day, please."

"You too." I wave goodbye as Levi exits the café. I already missed him, but my anxiety subsided for a bit.

He can find someone better than I could ever be.

He probably wants a woman that can function every day, not like me who has to take depression days.

He wants a woman who's more fit than I am.

The negative thoughts spilled into my mind, taking over my positive ones. Negative self-talk is something I constantly suffer with - I seem to be my biggest hater.

I always ruin good things.

[thevelvetquill]

⊹₊‧ The Velvet Quill ⊹₊‧

TW TW TW TW:

This blog may contain lots of graphic, adult content. This blog will have some direct NSFW statement, whether in questions, art, or story posts. I tend to swear a lot, so beware of that. Adult content can include the obvious and will be a reflection of kinks via character or a complete projection of my own thoughts and ideas. Some of these include: incest (to a degree); somnophillia; bdsm; Sniffing partners used underwear; etc.

All the stories are in good fun!

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

✧ Completed Works ✧

Around 1,000+ words

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

˚₊‧꒰ა Feyre’s Misadventures ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Traveling in Barovia, Feyre Sundrop has it hard enough being the only girl in the group. It only gets harder when her male companions need attention too! (Based on Curse of Strahd D&D Book)

╰┈➤ Lust in the Fog (smut) 💦

╰┈➤ My Sweet Faerie (smut) 💦

༻Len Family Mishaps ༺

Step into the provocative world of the Len family in Etherium, where lust knows no limits and every secret tantalizes. Explore ideas and exhilarating kinks as whispered fantasies and bold encounters unfold.

TW: MAY INCLUDE MORE TABOO LITERATURE

╰┈➤ An Eldritch Date (smut) 💦

˚⋆˙‧₊☽ Maplepaw’s Book of Shadows ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡

A captivating, witchy tome that safeguards Maple’s memories, intricately blending her sensual escapades with her cunning mischief that lead to…well, encounters with her one and only boyfriends.

╰┈➤ Nighttime Soup ✨

One night, while Maple was cooking, her crush, Ardin Valentine, stumbled over in a tipsy haze, eager to strike up a conversation with her.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Ending 1 (cute) | Ending 2 (smut) 💦

╰┈➤ Seven Minutes Later (smut)

╰┈➤ Thoughtful Gifts (smut) ✨NEW✨

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

✧ Ongoing ✧

Multiple chapters and ongoing plot.

Can be found also on my Wattpad!

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

✧ 𝗘𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗱𝗲 ✧ ✨NEW✨

~ Cassandra Luna, known online as P1NK_R0S3, isn’t just a gamer—she streams her life to survive, balancing gaming with intimate, high-paying sessions to support herself and her brother in Night City. Her closest confidant, R4V3N, is a mysterious moderator who manages her streams and has become her friend, but Cass craves more than virtual companionship. As she pushes to meet R4V3N in person, she wonders: What if they’re not who she expects?

╰┈➤ P1: R4V3N / P1NK_R0S3

╰┈➤ P2: Theme: Dream

╰┈➤ P3: Stream: Dream

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

✧ Works in Progress ✧

✧ June 3rd (cute)

- Alistar Len wakes up and realizes he’s forgotten his son Lucas’ birthday. Determined to make it up to him, he sets out to find the perfect place to celebrate.

✧ First Encounters (smut)

- Coming into his powers, Lucas faces controlling his powers and a sexual encounter with his girlfriend.

✧ Fireside Forgiveness (smut)

- With Feyre’s betrayal, Foggy simply isn’t simply going to trust her again with just an apology.