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starcurtain · 2 days

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A Look at Ratio and Aventurine... and Ratio/Aventurine

I was morally obligated to use this picture.

Anyway, I got an ask about my understanding of Ratio and Aventurine's relationship both in canon and as a ship that I have been holding on to for a while now because... phew, there's like... a lot to talk about there... But I felt I should at least give it a try, so here is my attempt to comment on the intersection of two of Star Rail's most complicated personalities. Long post is longgggg; you have been warned.

First, Aventurine's canon relationship to Ratio:

In the interest of not hitting tumblr's image limit, let's just throw out some of the information we have in one go:

It's pretty complimentary. (Yet somehow...)

The implication of the infamous "Keeping Up with Star Rail" video is that Ratio understands Aventurine better than anyone else, and Aventurine knows this. At the very least, putting all shipping aside, Ratio is the person who can explain Aventurine's behaviors best. He's the person Aventurine chooses do so. This suggests significantly more knowledge of each other's lives than the game first led us to believe.

Other people (read as: my GOAT Owlbert) perceive respect from Aventurine to Ratio, and although I read them as a bit sarcastic, the 2.1 mission logs not only repeatedly confirm that Aventurine views Ratio as smart and reliable, but that Ratio is reliable "as always," again indicating a longer and closer history of collaboration than we get to actively see in game. The devs were working hard to tell us "Penacony isn't Ratiorine's first rodeo," which is interesting--given Topaz's voiceline recommending the Trailblazer avoid working with Aventurine whenever possible, we're led to believe through 2.0 and 2.1 that not many people will willingly work with Aventurine more than once, let alone many times.

While going through psychological scrutiny from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come his Harmony-infused self, the "Future" Aventurine suggests that Ratio and Aventurine are quite similar, and that Aventurine puts a surprising amount of trust in Ratio, to be willing to hinge such a dangerous plan on something as untested as Ratio's ability to act. At the very least, Aventurine's own psyche is pondering on Ratio and whether or not their connection has any emotional meaning.

But despite all this evidence suggesting Ratio and Aventurine spend significantly more time with each other than we get to see in game, Aventurine's own thoughts cast strong doubt on whether he and Ratio are actually close.

Aventurine's "About Dr. Ratio" voice line suggests that Aventurine believes Ratio does not particularly like him. He seems to think that Ratio would prefer to stay away from IPC operations where possible, and it's "unfortunate" for Ratio to be stuck with Aventurine as a conversation partner. He's tolerated, rather than enjoyed. His overall impression seems to be that Ratio mostly views them as distant coworkers.

When the "Future" Aventurine suggests Ratio did not betray Aventurine willingly, actual Aventurine immediately pushes back:

(Personally I'm on the fence about whether this was real doubt or just a ploy to continue sussing out Sunday; see my other post about this scene for some more thoughts.)

But if we take this statement to be played straight, it implies that Aventurine doesn't fully believe Ratio will side with him, even (maybe especially) in dire circumstances. If this statement is real doubt, then despite considering Ratio the person who best understands him, despite building an entire life or death gamble around Ratio's loyalty... Aventurine still doesn't think Ratio even likes him.

Aventurine's not stupid or blind, so theoretically he should be able to read the situation better than that. But actually, there's plenty of evidence both in the game and outside it to suggest that Aventurine is not the most accurate judge of his own relationships to others and is a down-right terrible judge of his own worth as a person.

"Future" Aventurine suggests that one of Aventurine's deep inner flaws--the truths that he rejects about himself--is a massive inferiority complex. This is backed up well by the mission text, where Aventurine's thoughts about himself spiral into self-harm, and the scene in the maze, where "Future" Aventurine taunts our Aventurine with the unforgettable fact that his entire life was only worth pennies:

There's also pretty consistent self-deprecation, with both "Future" and real Aventurine noting several times that he's a pathetic mess of a person that other people don't trust or like.

The overall impression 2.0-2.1 left me with is that Aventurine is perfectly capable of respecting and caring for others, but virtually incapable of accepting other people genuinely respecting and caring for him.

Part of this seems to stem from the directly-stated sense that he's a failure whose only worth is in transactional exchanges, using and being used by others (there's so many layers to this--internalized racism even), but I also suspect that much of his inability to accept genuine connection from others is defensive behavior.

Aventurine's true self, Kakavasha, is deeply hidden away, like the ghost of the child that manifests from his Harmony delusion in the Dreamscape. Although Aventurine clings to that person, claiming that he has "never changed," he actively coats over his beliefs, his kindness, and his authenticity with the mask of a "cavalier gambler," with glitz and glamor and showy distractions. No one gets to see Kakavasha. No one gets to know him, because being buried deep in the dirt is the only way to remain untouchable, and fiercely keeping one's distance is the only safe bet. (For both Kakavasha and any fools who would doom themselves by daring to care for him.)

So: Canon is telling us that Ratio is one of, if not the, closest people in the world to Aventurine. But canon is also telling us that that still means absolutely nothing at all, because Aventurine won't let himself be close to anyone living.

Aventurine's senses of self-worth, trust, attachment, and safety have been warped so badly by ongoing and untreated trauma and mental health issues that, at least until the end of 2.1, I just don't think he was capable of even accepting genuine friendship from Ratio, let alone anything more.

(Interesting side note here: Ratio is actually one of the people Aventurine calls "my friend" the least. He only says it directly to Ratio a single time in all of their lines of dialogue across 2.0 and 2.1, and even then, does so only when right outside Sunday's door, while almost certainly being spied upon by the Family. Anyone who knows how often "my friend" is peppered into Aventurine's dialogue otherwise should know that the absence of the phrase is actually pretty telling. It almost feels like canon Aventurine's not even sure he can call Ratio his friend, at least to Ratio's face.)

Which makes Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine quite sad and ironic:

From start to finish, Ratio canonically esteems Aventurine more highly than almost any other character in the game. I'm not even talking about shipping when I say that there is no character Ratio is closer to in the entire game.

At present, Ratio has only four voice lines about other characters, and of those four, Aventurine's is the only one that isn't someone from the Genius Society. The only one. Ratio's voice lines are also notably, uh, not very complimentary. Herta is "talented but not helpful to others" and "sees no one as her equal" (read as: she's self-absorbed). Screwllum is a "monarch, rather than a genius" (with the vague implications of being a tyrant), and Ruan Mei is overly ambitious and "fooling everyone."

Meanwhile, Aventurine is "our man" (who is "our" Ratio? who?) whose success "can't all be chalked up to luck," implying that part of Aventurine's success must come from skill. Ratio notes that Aventurine questions his own ability... but as far as Ratio's evaluation goes, he seems to doubt that Aventurine will ever experience a downfall. For someone who thinks 99% of the people he meets are mediocre failures scrambling around in the filth of existence, to be recognized as skilled and unlikely to fail is quite obviously glowing praise.

Then, of course, there are numerous moments that echo Aventurine's hints, implying that Ratio spends significantly more time with Aventurine than we see on-screen, that he knows Aventurine extremely well, and, although he tries (vainly) to pretend he isn't, he's clearly quite concerned with what Aventurine thinks of him.

Especially this last one. "No wonder that gambler likes you so much" is pretty intentional on the devs' part, confirming that Ratio and Aventurine are having off-screen conversations we players are not privy to, which obviously would indicate a closer relationship than the in-game cutscenes could cover.

Then, Trailblazer has the option to flat out ask Ratio to "rate" Aventurine. (Star Rail ship bait is not even subtle.)

At first, this line might read as all over the place:

"The bosses say we're partners but I wouldn't say that" -> Read as: Ratio wants people to know how their relationship is classified but doesn't want to admit to being actually invested.

"I see myself as the teacher to everyone I meet" -> Read as: Ratio at least pretends that he doesn't view anyone as his equal; everyone is either above him--geniuses--or below him--students.

"Aventurine is not that bad of a student" -> High praise; even Ratio can't pretend Aventurine's untalented.

"Actually, Aventurine's probably in metaphysical danger" -> Read as: Ratio is aware of the "void" Aventurine is experiencing and his mental struggles.

The ultimate takeaway of Ratio's "rating" actually says more about Ratio than Aventurine. When it comes down to it, Ratio's choice to answer this question for the Trailblazer instead of dismiss it tells us that Ratio has spent time quantifying and trying to define his relationship with Aventurine, is willing to at least discuss that relationship with other people (when we have no evidence he ever discusses any other personal/non-academic matters with anyone), and that Ratio pays attention to Aventurine's mental states.

Canon Ratio is not beating the allegations, I'm afraid.

But actually, I think the biggest tell about Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine is that Ratio's behavior completely changes the moment Aventurine appears in the game.

In every single one of Ratio's other appearances, two facts are hammered home again and again:

First, Ratio hates interacting with fools and "noisy" people. He wears his plaster bust so that he doesn't even have to see them. Canonically, we're informed by both March 7th and Argenti that Ratio brought and was wearing his headpiece in Penacony. Curiously though...

The players never see it throughout 2.X--probably because 90% of Ratio's scenes are with Aventurine, and Ratio is never shown wearing his bust on screen with Aventurine--even in their very first meeting in the Final Victor lightcone. Aventurine clearly knows of the bust, but despite Ratio verbally going on and on about how Aventurine is the most "flashy" and "devoid of logic" person Ratio knows... the devs deliberately send their message: Ratio has chosen not to cut himself off from Aventurine.

Aventurine can be more "clamorous" than a screaming peacock, but Ratio will still not put up walls against him. This isn't accidental. The devs had every opportunity in the world to go the opposite route and make jokes about Ratio refusing to take the bust off in Aventurine's obnoxious presence; instead they decided that Ratio apparently has a glaring, Aventurine-shaped exception to his "I don't want to perceive you fools or be perceived by you" life rule.

This "willing to tolerate shenanigans only if Aventurine is involved" behavior continues basically throughout all of Penacony's plot. In 2.3 for example, if you turn around and talk to Ratio again on the Radiant Feldspar, he flat out says:

But there's no actual explanation for why he's there in the first place. He mentions he was assigned to watch over "the IPC's ambassadors," which theoretically should apply to Jade and Topaz, yet we never see him interacting with them in any capacity. He's never even shown in the same room as Jade or Topaz, and he's not shown doing any other form of business for the IPC on the Feldspar either. Theoretically, he could have been on the Feldspar to meet regarding the Divergent Universe... except Screwllum wasn't there yet, and Ratio doesn't mention a single word about the Divergent Universe to the Trailblazer.

The only person Ratio talks about in his dialogue on the Feldspar is Aventurine, and the only non-Trailblazer he talks to in 2.3 at all is also Aventurine, replying to him and only him in the group chat.

He looked like he might give it a shot to try to befriend Boothill and Argenti at the end of 2.3... but immediately changes his mind and leaves without saying a word to them.

It's not really a stretch to suggest that the only reasonable excuse for Ratio to attend the party on the Feldspar was if he was there for Aventurine, a behavior that he himself notes is out of character. ("A waste of time" he says, as he stands there anyway.)

But, second and even more importantly: Ratio's single most defining character trait is that he believes people need to pick themselves up. The entire point of his debut appearance in the game was to present his philosophy that if the powerful or privileged intervene to continually "save" the mediocre, ordinary people will never learn for themselves or get the chance to grow. It is in times of desperation, he says, that fools exceed their limits and reach greatness.

This is why, in 1.6, he insisted on Asta and the Trailblazer being the ones to solve the attacks happening on the space station, without relying on Screwllum or the other geniuses. Although Ratio did actively intervene a little (using the phase flame to save the researchers from death), he did so only from behind the scenes, where his actual help would not be noticed by those affected and where it had no impact on their decision-making or their struggles to solve the mystery.

He let Asta and the Trailblazer panic. He let them flounder. He even deliberately misled them at points, claiming that Duke Inferno must have kidnapped the researchers (when it was actually Ratio himself who re-routed them).

Ultimately, Ratio let Asta and the Trailblazer grow from their experiences.

This is also why he lets the Trailblazer go blazing in to fight Ruan Mei's faux emanator of the propagation, despite knowing that Trailblazer was not actually strong enough to win. Ratio watched and was ready to intervene... but in the end he did not, because it was the Trailblazer's fight to lose.

Ratio's most defining character trait is that he believes standing back and observing is the true kindness, rather than inserting oneself and denying people their autonomy or opportunities to grow.

Buttttt... then there's Aventurine, and suddenly the story is completely different.

Suddenly, Ratio isn't an observer but becomes essential to the plan. He's even walking around making big claims about being the manager of the task, flexing all of his C+ acting ability to actively carry out their mutual ploy.

In 2.3, he claims he was just there to watch, and his Penacony sticker asserts he's only "a supporting character"--yet we have never seen Ratio take a more active role in the entire game. Unlike with the Trailblazer in 1.6, he's not primarily watching events unfold from shadowy corners. He's in Penacony as Aventurine's active partner in crime.

And, even more telling--he later jeopardizes their entire mission just to ask if Aventurine needs help.

What? Huh? The character who is famous for the voice line "You look distressed. Is something troubling you? If so, you can figure it out for yourself" is suddenly offering his assistance entirely unprompted?

The guy whose motto might as well be:

Is suddenly out here throwing his own core philosophy out the window to solve Penacony's mystery for Aventurine and save him from himself in Aventurine's hour of greatest need?

A lot of people get hung up on the second half of Ratio's letter, the part about staying alive, which of course is very sweet. But I think the second half causes people to forget that the first part of Ratio's letter is, quite literally, the answer to Penacony's mystery.

Ratio gave Aventurine the answer.

This is like if your professor just gave you and you alone the score key to the final exam and then turned around to insist he "doesn't play favorites."

Of course, Aventurine is brilliant and didn't need Ratio's answer about dormancy, which makes the fact that Ratio went out of the way to give it to him even more odd. Ratio despises unnecessary repetition. If he wasn't dead worried, he would never have given Aventurine an answer that Aventurine had the power to find on his own.

And, as far as canon tells us, Ratio has never done this for anyone else.

The difference is night and day. It's literally the Gordon Ramsay meme, with everyone else in the entire game being the "fucking donkeys" to Aventurine's "Oh dear. Gorgeous."

So: Even if we entirely put aside shipping, if we look strictly at what we're given in canon:

Ratio treats Aventurine with more respect than he treats most other characters in the game.

He involves himself in Aventurine's struggles in a way that he flat out refuses to do for anyone else.

He compromises his own beliefs purely out of concern for Aventurine.

So, at least as far as we've been shown in canon, it is accurate to state that Aventurine is the closest character to Ratio--and unlike Aventurine (king of self-gaslighting), Ratio isn't even good at acting like he doesn't care.

Frankly, the whole thing is a little sad. Ratio's behavior is so blatantly out of character that a smart person like Aventurine should easily be able to determine it is genuine, but Aventurine's personal hang-ups and ongoing trauma make it difficult for him to even see that authenticity, let alone put faith in it. Even in canon, Ratio is mostly unable to help himself when it comes to Aventurine, which is especially unfortunate given how badly skewed Aventurine's perception of himself and others is by the start of Penacony's story.

PHEW! I finally made it through canon content!

Now there's just... everything else... 🫠

Well, to be honest, I don't think I could ever manage to put all my thoughts about this ship into one post. Probably not even fifty posts.

So rather than trying to say everything there is to say about Ratiorine, what I want to focus on is how fantastically these two characters just fit together. Like puzzle pieces that need to be mirror opposites in order to link, these two characters parallel each other while also perfectly filling in each other's voids. It's some of the best character pair writing I've seen in a long time (though I'm still sort of convinced it was at least 50% sheer luck on Hoyo's part), and my perspective on their ship can really be tied to my underlying perception of Ratio and Aventurine's characters as remarkably similar individuals:

It's obvious that Aventurine is not a healthy or well-adjusted adult man, but like... neither is Ratio.

Both of these characters are "not quite right" marginalized people who, at least in my interpretation, have essentially given up on even faking normality and are now just vaguely play acting their way through being functioning members of a universe that is entirely unequipped to accept them for who they are. In a world full of cyborg cowboys and people with wings growing from their heads, the game still manages to somehow convince us that Aventurine and Ratio are odd ones out.

Kakavasha can't even exist in the dystopian capitalist hellscape of the IPC's machinations. "Aventurine" isn't even a real person, just a never-ending performance, a slick, devil-may-care persona without a single ounce of substance.

Ratio, meanwhile, is a world of one, rejected from the only place he thought he could find validation and acceptance but unable to lower himself to fit in anywhere else.

Aventurine is so bad at making genuine connections that he turns everyday conversations into gambles because he doesn't believe people will care enough to keep talking to him without tangible incentive.

Ratio's insistence on treating everyone as students, not as equals, also means he has an excuse to never emotionally engage with anyone he meets. (This is not at all a textbook method of intentional avoidance to prevent any chance of social rejection. Not at all.)

At the end of the day, Aventurine and Ratio both come across as desperately lonely, and so caught up in their own situations that they really don't have the ability to climb out of that hole on their own.

Preventing them from even being able to maintain any form of relationship is also the fact that neither one of them can even find justification. Neither one of them has a reasonable answer to the question "Why am I alive?" anymore, because Aventurine's reason died on Sigonia and Ratio's reason died with an IPC invitation instead of a Genius Society letter. Though their differing perspectives have led them on opposite paths pursuing their own answers to that ultimate question of "Why should I keep living?" (Aventurine was headed toward giving up before the end of Penacony, while Ratio has invented an immeasurable, impossible goal to distract himself from feeling purposeless), both of them are pretty much miserably unfulfilled in their current lives.

They're also both violently allergic to emotional vulnerability and to having any of their flaws or true desires actually be perceived. Both of them put up insanely high walls. Aventurine pushes boundaries with everyone he meets to provoke their hatred in advance, before they can come to disdain him for his "real" flaws. He acts out harmful racist stereotypes to use others' preconceptions for advantage, manipulating every situation he's in--incidentally affirming the stereotypes against his people by doing so.

Ratio puts a physical wall of plaster between himself and others, but the plaster bust actually doesn't have anything on the mental and emotional gymnastics he's engaged in to justify his isolation from the world, doing everything in his power to convince himself that he's isolated by choice, that it's perfectly logical for Veritas Ratio to have nowhere to truly belong, no one to truly belong with. He's so mundane after all. Of course the geniuses don't want him, that's just commonsense. But everyone else is so... different, so foolish, so illogical... It just wouldn't be reasonable of him to try to become one of them either, to be their friend instead of their distant educator. (You know, if you never try to integrate with others, then they can't reject you. Ratio has learned his lesson.)

Somehow, Aventurine and Ratio are two of the most competent and successful people in Star Rail's entire universe and simultaneously also two of the most misfit, reject, dysfunctional messes in the game. Like... Blade has a better support network than Aventurine and Ratio combined. The 7000-pound murderous mech with a disabled, genetically-modified war veteran who never got to live a normal human life hiding inside it is more capable of making friends than Aventurine and Dr. Ratio.

Which is why I love that the devs decided to make their canon backstory: "Some absolute treasures in the IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild had the galaxy-brained idea of pairing Ratio and Aventurine as strategic partners." The game's writing really said: "These two characters are so socially stunted, they have to be assigned a relationship like it's homework."

They may not have it all figured out yet, but the fans see the design: Now that Ratio and Aventurine have each other, they're not alone anymore. I have never seen two characters better fit the "Is anyone going to match my freak?" meme only for the actual answer to be "Yes."

Ratio is "plays chess with himself" levels of loner weird? No problem--Aventurine is "Wanna take bets on who's going to die today?" weirder. Ratio wears a plaster bust to ward off idiots? Aventurine transforms into a monster on command, which is pretty much guaranteed to achieve the same effect.

Ratio wasn't chosen by Nous? That's fine, Aventurine's one job as a "chosen one" was to save his people and now they're all dead. Nobody can keep up with Ratio in conversation? Watch a single comment from Aventurine turn him into a fumbling mess on live television.

Ratio's inability to relate to the experiences and development of any peers his own age have left him extremely isolated and with a permanently scarred sense of self-worth? Wow, I wonder if Aventurine knows exactly what that feels like.

They just... fit.

And, changing focus a little here at the end: While I personally think that recovery from trauma requires internal motivation and self-kindness foremost, I also think that Ratio and Aventurine's relationship should be considered from the perspective of how they help to fill each other's gaps.

Unlike any connection at the Genius Society who will always evoke unpleasant memories of Nous's rejection, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel intellectually inferior. Aventurine has nothing but good things to say about Ratio's intelligence, and it's even apparent that Ratio felt comfortable enough to at least mention his Genius Society woes to Aventurine, something he explicitly does not do with anyone else.

Even when it comes to social interactions, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel inadequate, because honestly? Aventurine's almost as bad at them as Ratio. Aventurine is much better at faking it socially, but when it actually counts? When he's trying to be real with others? A solid 70% of the people who meet Aventurine still end up wanting to strangle him. The guy tried to apologize for threatening to detonate the Trailblazer like a bomb by buying them a model train...

Then there's this:

Aventurine is the only character explicitly called Ratio's equal in game, and more than just treating him respectfully as an equal, Aventurine also exhibits one extreme appeal that no one else in game has ever shown to Ratio: Aventurine makes Ratio feel needed. For Aventurine, Ratio is not a forgettable after-thought as he is to Herta and most of the other geniuses. He's not just "some weird guy who scolds me about school" like he is to the Trailblazer. Ratio's intellect and skill were integral to Aventurine's plan from step one to the very end. Ratio has a place in Aventurine's plots. For a character who directly assesses worth by how beneficial a person can be to others, the fact that Aventurine can make Ratio feel wanted and valued probably produced some of the strongest personal fulfillment Ratio has had in years.

On the opposite side, Ratio's in a unique position. Out of every relevant character in Aventurine's story, Ratio is the only one who has nothing to lose by choosing Kakavasha over "Aventurine." Ratio doesn't profit off Aventurine or take any expensive gifts from him, like the Trailblazer does. He doesn't need Aventurine's luck for anything at all. He'd be able to work for the IPC even if Aventurine wasn't in it. Ratio certainly doesn't want the glitz and glamour of a shallow gambling hustler persona. His work doesn't require Aventurine's continued involvement like Topaz's and Jade's does. He'd probably prefer not to know any Stonehearts at all, thank you for asking.

Outside of deliberate-acting insults about Sigonians for Sunday's sake, we're not told that Ratio has any connections to--and therefore has no preconceived biases against--Sigonians. Being a person who values self-determination and a refusal to live in mediocrity above all else, he would have nothing but esteem for how far Aventurine has managed to come despite the harsh circumstances of his life. Ratio probably wouldn't even think Aventurine's belief in Gaiathra is that strange; one of Ratio's doctorates is actually in theology.

Unlike literally everyone else in the universe who needs "Aventurine," we have every indication that Ratio's respect and admiration will only grow when he finally gets to meet "Kakavasha."

Loneliness, rejection, betrayal, a lack of understanding from others--all of these can leave wounds that only genuine, deep bonds with others can heal.

On death's doorway, in the darkest shadow, when Aventurine had to make the choice between passing on to be with the family that loved him and choosing to return to a reality without them... Ratio's letter was there, telling Aventurine the exact thing he needed to hear to choose life: Someone is waiting for you to come home.

If the resounding rejection of Star Rail's Nihility is belief in humanity's power to make meaning in our own lives through our connections to others, then the ultimate message of Ratio and Aventurine's arc in Penacony is that no one needs to be alone. The world is not as empty as you fear.

And that is a message that Ratio and Aventurine can learn best through each other.

(I just... love them so much...)

254 notes · View notes

itneverendshere · 2 days

Note

pogue reader getting sick but she can’t call out, but rafes fr mad at you about it

don't want less, don't want more - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

changed it a bit just bc i want to show reader's progress regarding her hyper-independence, they're already dating and past the "i love you" phase, i felt like some progress had to be made by this point, especially bc this is after their big fight in this. hope you enjoy <3

The floor beneath you feels like it's tilting, moving under your feet like a boat rocking on rough water. You blink a couple of times, hoping that’ll shake the haze taking over your vision, but it doesn’t do much.

The bar lights over your head are too bright, and the music thumping from the speakers makes your head feel like it’s trapped in a vice. The clink of glass, every laugh, every order shouted at you feels like a hammer driving nails straight into your skull.

You swallow hard, trying not to gag. Your throat’s raw, and your chest feels tight, but you’re powering through it because you don’t have much of a choice. Not a choice at all.

"Whiskey sour, extra sour!" some country club douchebag yells from the other side of the bar.

His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. You force a smile and nod, reaching for the bottle, but your hands are shaky. You catch yourself on the edge of the bar before you can drop it.

This morning, you could barely get out of bed. Fever burning through you like you were standing too close to a bonfire, throat too sore to talk, and your head pounding so hard you thought you were going to pass out just brushing your teeth.

You tried calling in. Tried. Told your manager, Greg, that you were sick as hell, couldn’t make it, but the guy just grunted like he always does. "Can’t afford anyone calling out today," he said. Like the world was going to end if you didn’t show up to sling drinks for a bunch of rich assholes.

So here you are.

You rub the back of your neck, trying to loosen up some of the tension building there, but it doesn’t help. Nothing really does at this point.

"Hey!" The guy who ordered the whiskey sour snaps his fingers in your face. "You deaf or something? Whiskey. Sour."

"Got it," You mutter, trying not to let your voice crack as you finally pour his drink.

Your vision swims a little as you set it down in front of him, and for a second, you think you might actually faint right here at the bar.

That’d be something. Faceplant into a bunch of overpriced cocktails in front of half of the Kooks on this island. Greg would probably just step over you and ask you to get back to work.

You lean against the bar for a second. Your stomach rolls, threatening to revolt, but you choke it back. You can’t afford to be sick here. Not when you’re already in trouble with your manager for barely making it on time. You think back to the half-assed breakfast you tried to eat—if you can call a slice of toast breakfast—and how your stomach rejected it like poison.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Rafe coming in. And suddenly, you’re even more aware of how wrecked you are.

You know he still struggles with how independent you are sometimes. You’ve always been the kind of girl who handles things on her own, and Rafe has this tendency to think that means you don’t need him.

Today, though? You need him more than ever, but you couldn’t bring yourself to call for help.

You immediately know it’s gonna be a thing.

His eyes lock onto you from across the bar, and even through the fog in your head, you can see that look on his face. He’s pissed. Of course, he’s pissed. His jaw’s clenched like he’s biting back whatever rant he’s about to drop on you, and you can already feel the tension creeping up your neck.

Great, as if you didn’t feel bad enough already.

You try to stand a little straighter, look a little less like you're one second from collapsing, but your legs are jelly, and the room’s still spinning like you’re on some messed-up carnival ride.

You don’t want him to see how bad you’re hurting right now. But today? You’re too out of it to even try and explain.

He strides up to the bar, looking sharp, as usual. Meanwhile, you probably look like death warmed over. His eyes are scanning you, taking in the pale face, the way you’re gripping the edge of the bar like you’re about to keel over. You see his lips tighten, and yeah, he’s definitely about to lay into you.

“You didn’t call,” he says, voice low but definitely annoyed. He leans in, trying to keep this between just the two of you, but with how loud the bar is, it still feels like a confrontation.

“I’m fine,” you lie, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace.

Rafe’s eyes narrow. He’s not buying it. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Why didn’t you call me?”

You hate that you feel guilty.

“Because I’m handling it,” you say, voice softer now. But even you can hear how weak you sound.

It’s not convincing. Hell, you’re not even convinced.

He crosses his arms, looking down at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. “Handling it? Baby, you can barely stand.”

You let out a sigh, trying not to let it turn into a cough.

"I’m fine," you repeat, but even you know it sounds pathetic at this point. Your head feels like it's full of cotton, you’re not sure if you’ll make it through the next few minutes, let alone your entire shift.

But pride’s a bitch.

Rafe just stands there, arms crossed, staring at you like he’s waiting for you to come clean. You can feel his frustration, but there’s something else, too. Worry. It’s in the way his eyes keep flicking over your face, how his fingers are tapping against his arm like he’s holding himself back from just scooping you up and carrying you out of here.

"I heard from Topper," he finally says, like he’s been holding that card in his back pocket. You blink, trying to keep up. "He saw you at the club earlier, said you didn’t look right."

Great. Freaking Topper. Of course, idiot couldn’t mind his own business. You can almost picture him, all dressed up in some preppy golf outfit, spotting you from across the course and making a note to text Rafe the second he saw something off.

Rafe’s still watching you, waiting for a reaction.

You open your mouth, trying to come up with some excuse, some way to brush it off, but your brain’s too foggy, and all you manage is a weak, "I was fine then."

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? 'Cause Top said you looked like you were about to hurl on the 9th hole." He’s trying to keep his voice low, but you can tell he’s annoyed. Not at Topper, not even really at you—just at the whole situation.

You want to snap back, tell him you’re fine, that you’ve got it under control. But instead, all that comes out is another tired sigh. “Greg wouldn’t let me call out. Said they needed me.”

“You serious?”

“Dead-serious.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches so tight you think you hear his teeth grind. His hands come out of his pockets, flexing like he’s about to hit something—or someone. He runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down before he says something he’ll regret.

But you know him—he’s never been great at holding back when he’s pissed. And right now? He’s definitely pissed.

“Greg said that?” His voice is low, but there’s this dangerous edge to it, like he’s two seconds away from losing it, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come down here, I would’ve—”

“I know.” You cut him off because you do know.

He would’ve dropped everything and come running. That’s exactly why you didn’t call. You didn’t want to be the a burden again. Like you said, you’re still working on yourself.

Rafe leans against the bar, his whole body radiating this intensity that makes you feel both comforted and nervous.

“So, let me get this straight,” he says, voice louder now, not even bothering to keep it low-key anymore. “You’re sick as hell, and that asshole wouldn’t let you stay home?”

You wince. He’s drawing attention now, people at the bar starting to glance over. You hate seeing him like this, but you don’t have the energy to smooth things over.

“Rafe, please—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“No, seriously. What kind of fucking manager forces someone to come in when they’re this sick?” His voice carries, and a couple of the other bartenders are giving you looks, like they can’t decide if they’re more surprised or impressed by Rafe’s audacity, "You’re killing yourself for this job, and he doesn’t give a fuck.”

You glance toward the back, hoping Greg’s still in the office and not witnessing this meltdown. The last thing you need right now is more heat from him. But of course, your luck sucks, because just as Rafe’s ramping up, Greg strides out from the back, clipboard in hand, that same stupid scowl on his face like he’s already annoyed at everything.

Rafe spots him instantly, and if you thought he was mad before, now he’s on a whole other level.

"Greg!" Rafe calls out, loud enough that half the bar turns to look. Your stomach sinks. This is about to get ugly.

Greg stops dead in his tracks, his eyes flicking to Rafe and then back to you. He knows. He knows exactly what’s about to happen, and he’s already losing the upper hand.

“Yeah, Rafe?” Greg’s voice is weak, almost shaky. Like he’s trying to keep it together, but he knows he’s got no chance. Rafe’s family literally owns half the island—Greg’s just some middle manager with too much attitude.

Your boyfriend steps forward, slow and deliberate, closing the space between them like he’s already won this thing.

“You made her come in today?” His voice is calm, but it’s that scary kind of calm that’s worse than yelling. The kind that makes your stomach drop because you know the person holding it together is barely holding back.

Greg opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is this pathetic mumble. “We… we were short-staffed.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow, his lips pulling into this cold, humorless smile. “Short-staffed?” He glances at you, and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You really didn’t want this to turn into a scene, but here you are. “You see how she looks right now? You made her come in like this?”

Greg’s eyes flick back and forth between you and Rafe, and you can see the panic starting to set in. He’s sweating now, probably realizing that this little power trip he’s on is about to bite him in the ass. “She didn’t… uh… say she couldn’t work…”

“She told you she was sick,” Rafe cuts him off, voice like steel. “You’re the manager, right? Thought that meant taking care of your staff. Guess I was wrong.”

Greg’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing’s coming. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, knowing any move he makes right now could get him fired. Hell, maybe even blacklisted from every job on the island. The Cameron’s have that kind of pull.

“I-I didn’t realize how bad it was,” Greg finally stammers, but even he doesn’t sound convinced by his own excuse.

Rafe takes another step forward, practically towering over Greg now. “You didn’t realize?” He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “Look at her, man. How could you not realize?”

You wince as the room seems to get quieter, everyone watching this power struggle unfold. You’d rather be anywhere but here right now, but you also know that Rafe’s not letting this slide.

Greg takes a step back, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“I-I was just trying to keep things running. We… we were slammed.”

Rafe’s smile drops, and now it’s just pure ice. “You think that’s a good enough reason to put my girlfriend’s health at risk?”

Greg looks like he’s about to pass out himself at this point, but he manages to mutter, “No… no, I—I didn’t mean…”

“Here’s the deal, Greg,” Rafe says, voice low but dangerous. “You’re gonna back off. Let her finish this shift if she wants. If she doesn’t? She’s out, no questions asked. And next time, when she says she’s sick, you listen.”

Greg nods so fast it’s like his head’s on a swivel. “Of course, of course, Rafe. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just—”

“Good,” Rafe interrupts, already turning away like he’s done with this conversation. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Greg just stands there, wide-eyed and frozen, clearly too scared to even argue. He stammers some half-hearted apology, but Rafe’s already turning back to you, brushing the whole thing off like it was nothing.

You look up at him, still in shock at how quickly Greg folded. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

He shrugs, leaning back against the bar with that easy confidence he always has. “Yeah, I did,” he says, his tone softening now that it’s just the two of you. “I’m not gonna let some nobody push you around like that.”

You sigh, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed. “You know he’s probably gonna hate me even more now.”

Rafe smirks, like that’s the least of his concerns. “Who cares? He won’t say a fuckin’ thing. Trust me.”

“Everyone’s going to say a thing, baby. They’re gonna think I have some kind of privilege because I’m dating you.”

Rafe’s smirk softens. He steps a little closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear him over the dull roar of the bar.

“Let them think whatever they want,” he says, his hand brushing against yours. “You’ve been busting your ass here long before I ever stepped in. Nobody can take that from you.”

You bite your lip, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, judgment and curiosity. He’s right in a way—you’ve been working extra hard. But still, it’s hard to ignore the feeling that now, everyone’s going to assume you’ve got some special treatment just because of Rafe’s name.

“It’s not about that,” you murmur, “I just—don’t want people thinking I can’t stand on my own. I don’t want to be the girl who hides behind her boyfriend’s power.”

Rafe tilts his head, studying you with that look he always gives when he knows you're holding back.

“You think that’s what this is?” His voice is steady, his tone a little softer now. “This wasn’t about power, baby. This was about someone treating you like you didn’t matter. And I’m not letting anyone—anyone—do that to you.”

He’s not wrong.

Greg didn’t give a damn about how sick you were, only about keeping the bar running, like you were replaceable. And you hate how right Rafe is, how much you needed someone to step in, even if it makes you feel a little helpless. You swallow hard, the tightness in your chest easing slightly, though your body still feels like it’s been run over by a truck.

“And you’re not working anymore today, or the next week for that matter. You’re gonna get your ass in my car and we’re going to the doctor.”

You nod, knowing there’s no arguing with Rafe when he’s like this, but part of you still feels guilty.

Not for needing help exactly, but for not being able to handle it all on your own. You've always been the girl who grits her teeth and gets through it, but today? Your body is screaming at you that you just can’t. Not anymore.

Rafe’s watching you closely, like he’s waiting for you to argue, but you don’t. You’re too drained. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Greg is wearing off, and now all you feel is this bone-deep exhaustion.

“I’m not going to a doctor,” you say, even though you know you probably should. “Just home. I just need to sleep.”

He narrows his eyes like he’s trying to read between the lines of what you’re saying, but then he just nods. “Fine. But if you’re not better by tomorrow, I’m dragging you to urgent care. No arguments.”

You give him a weak smile, trying to show you appreciate it even though you feel like crap.

“Deal.”

Without another word, he moves around the bar, ignoring Greg’s gawking and the way everyone’s still sneaking glances at you two. He gently takes the towel out of your hand, sets it on the counter, and slips an arm around your waist.

It’s the first time you’ve felt stable all day, leaning into him like you might actually make it to the car without collapsing.

“I don’t think I can afford an appointment.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. His arm tightens around your waist, steadying you as you start to sway a little on your feet.

"Not worried about the money.”

You try to shake your head, but the movement makes you dizzy, and you stop, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

"I just don’t want to be that person, you know? Relying on you for everything."

He gives you a side glance, eyebrows raised.

"Baby, you’re not relying on me for everything. You’re literally sick, and I’m not about to let you tough it out just because you’re too stubborn to ask for help. We’ve talked about this a million times.”

"I guess," you mumble, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you walk towards the door.

"No guessing about it," he says, softer now, his fingers brushing your arm in a way that makes you feel more grounded. "You’ve been holding down the fort for too long. Let me take care of you for once."

The air outside hits you like a slap, but Rafe keeps you close, leading you toward his car. Your legs are weak, the fever still simmering under your skin, but his body warmth keeps you upright.

"Thanks," you whisper, even though it feels weird to say. You’re not used to thanking people for basic care, but with Rafe, it feels different.

He pauses, opening the passenger door for you.

"You don’t gotta thank me, okay? I’m just doing what anyone who loves you would do."

Your heart skips at that. You’re still not used to how easily he says stuff like that, like it’s no big deal. But he’s rubbing off on you, because you can say it just as easily now.

“I love you too, sorry for being a pain in your ass.”

Rafe chuckles as he helps you into the car, leaning down to make sure you’re settled before he shuts the door. He bends down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"You're always a pain in my ass," he murmurs against your skin, grinning as he pulls back just enough to look at you. "But you’re my pain in the ass, and that’s what matters."

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips despite how wrecked you feel. The fever, the headache, the exhaustion—it all takes a backseat, at least for a moment.

Knowing Rafe’s always got your back? That makes it a little easier to breathe.

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possiblyreallyme · 1 day

Text

Ace's little girlfriend

warning: dirty words, getting caught (sort of?), ace can't be subtle for the life of him.

The young second division commander was a fun time on the ship, from his stupid pranks to his kitchen raids. He was like the little brother of the crew, despite going on and on about his own younger brother all the time, bragging or just straight up annoying the men with stories.

And he was a flirt, much to the teasing of everyone else. He'd playfully flex his muscles when girls saw them working on the deck, wink across bars when the crew was in a tavern or even scoot just a little closer to the fancy pirate ladies they sometimes met.

It was funny— Of course Marco would have to tease him, of course Thatch would impersonate him at dinner, of course Izo would bat his lashes and "faint" as if Ace was some sort of hunk. And what made it funnier, was that they all knew what he really was.

Poor boy liked to pretend to be some bigshot, but they knew he was nothing more than a nervous virgin, too shy to even hold a girl's hand. It was cute when they asked about all the chicks he'd banged and watch him go bright red, flames licking at his freckled shoulders while he stutters and fumbles over his words.

One time, back on a summer island when Ace was still relatively new, Thatch thought it'd be funny to buy a red thong and place it in Ace's laundry basket to stir up his nerves. And boy, was it the talk of all of Whitebeard's fleets for months.

"Ummm..." If only this situation was as lighthearted as that time.

Ace had the eyes of every man on the ship burning holes into his skin, and he had never wished he wore a shirt more because suddenly the mostly-faded scratches down his back and shoulders felt bright red and exposed.

Marco was stunned into silence, seeing how Ace clutched the small white piece of fabric with a death grip, looking ready to burn it while he kept it in his clenched fist. He had never seen Ace grab something from someone so fast— not even when Luffy's bounty went up and Vista held the wanted poster over his head.

"Son," Whitebeard started slowly, raising an eyebrow from where he sat at his chair, keeping his voice low and suspicious. "Could you tell me why Marco found that up in the crow's nest this morning?"

Mortified, Ace turned a brighter red than the beads of his necklace, stammering over some lame excuse about how it wasn't his! He had just grabbed it out of Marco's hand because, um, it was disrespectful to stare at a lady's undergarments!

Thatch practically snorted; eyes glued to Ace's fist with a playful grin. The situation might have been odd and slightly serious, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

Marco, however, was much more smug than Ace was comfortable with, crossing his arms with a mean curl of his lips as he strode forward.

"Well, it seems our Fire-Fist here does know how to get some pussy." He didn't care how embarrassed it made the young division commander to hear him use such dirty words, especially when Ace himself was known far and wide for his colorful vocabulary.

"I-It's not like that!" Ace all but screamed, voice a little too high-pitched and whiney to convince any of them. He knew damn well it was like that, and it almost made him feel bad to deny that you two had such an amazing night a few hours before.

He wished he had the brains to think of a way out of the situation, blame it on someone that they wouldn't be surprised snuck a girl onto the ship. Part of him wished he could boast, too. Because fuck, last night was something he wouldn't be able to get out of his newly-fucked head.

The fabric was so small, especially in Ace's large hands. Much too dainty and breakable and feminine to belong to anyone on the crew. Even the nurses wouldn't wear something like this, a cute, cotton lace with frilly white edges and a flowery design.

"Ha!!" Thatch couldn't hold it back anymore, encouraging the crew to break out into fits of laughter and snickers and almost childish giggles, which only further Ace's wish to bury himself in a hole and die.

Oh god, he was such an idiot. He should have remembered to pick up your panties before someone saw them, and now he would pay the price.

#one piece #one piece smut #one piece x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace smut #portgas d ace #purely self indulgent #sorry y'all #omg i just ate a goldfish and a blueberry muffin in the same bite and HMMMMM #unrelated but-#nervous virgin ace canon #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader smut

186 notes · View notes

kckt88 · 3 days

Text

A Heartbeat Between Us III

Summary:

Aemond and Y.N attend a scan for their baby and arguements ensue when Alys and Jace reappear.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Arguing, Discussion of Past Trauma, Swearing, Threat of Violence, Mild Jealousy, Allusions to Sex.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 6454

A.N - Bit of a filler chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

Y.N. stirred as the soft rustling of clothes caught her attention. Her eyes fluttered open, catching sight of Aemond standing at the edge of the bed, already half-dressed, pulling on his shirt in the early morning light.

"What time is it?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

Aemond glanced at her, buttoning his shirt. "6 a.m.," he replied, smoothing his collar. "I need to head home and shower before work." He walked over, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Go back to sleep."

Y.N. blinked a few times, shaking her head. "No, I need to get up too. I have a book restoration to finish for a client," she said, stretching her arms above her head.

Aemond paused for a moment, looking at her with concern. "Is that safe for the baby?"

Y.N. gave him a reassuring smile. "I wear a mask and gloves. It should be fine."

He nodded, clearly still thinking it over but trusting her judgment. "Thanks for letting me stay last night," he said quietly, brushing a lock of hair away from her face.

"It's okay," she smiled back, her eyes soft.

Aemond leaned in and kissed her lips, a lingering gesture that seemed reluctant to let go. "Make sure you have a healthy breakfast," he murmured as he pulled back.

Y.N. mockingly saluted him. "Yes, sir."

Something shifted in Aemond at her words, a flash of heat lighting up in his eye. He leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers, the air between them suddenly thick with tension.

"You’d do well to listen to me," he whispered, his voice low, laced with intent. "Or I’ll have to punish you."

Y.N. giggled softly, clearly enjoying the playful edge to his words. "I might like it, Daddy."

The growl that came from Aemond was deep and possessive. He claimed her mouth with a fierce kiss, laying her back down on the bed as his body pressed over hers, the heat between them flaring back to life.

"I'm going to be late" muttered Aemond torn between desire and responsibility as the covers slipped revealing Y.N’s naked body.

Y.N. bit her lip, an apologetic smile tugging at the corners. "Sorry."

Aemond smirked wickedly, his eye dark with lust. "Don't be." He kissed her again, his hands moving quickly to undo his trousers, freeing his hard cock.

"I thought you were going to be late?" teased Y.N

Aemond glanced down at her bare body, his hunger for her consuming any fleeting thought of punctuality.

"It’s worth it," he growled, as he took his cock in hand and sheathed himself inside her in a single thrust.

Y.N. burst through the door of the bookstore, cheeks flushed and slightly out of breath.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” she called out, her words spilling out in a rush.

For all the worrying about Aemond being late this morning, it ended up being her who was running behind.

Damn him and his big cock.

Luckily, Aemond had dropped her off, so she wasn’t that late, but still.

She didn’t like showing up behind schedule, especially with so much work to do. Wasting no time, Y.N. headed straight to the back room where her restoration materials were waiting.

She slipped on her gloves and mask with practiced ease, feeling a sense of calm settle over her as she focused on the task at hand.

The book in front of her was old, its cover worn, pages delicate from years of handling. She’d been commissioned to restore it by a client who cherished it, and she felt the weight of that responsibility.

The process was time-consuming and required precision—every movement measured; every touch careful. But there was something so satisfying about it. Bringing an old, damaged book back to life, piece by piece, always filled her with pride.

A couple of hours passed in a quiet blur, Y.N. so absorbed in her work that she almost forgot the time. She was just about to take a break when her phone buzzed on the worktable beside her.

It was a message from Helaena: ‘Lunch at the café round the corner? xoxo’

Y.N. smiled and texted back a quick, ‘Yes, see you in ten xx’, before tidying up her workstation. She placed the restored pages back into their protective covers, wiped down her tools, and slipped off her gloves.

With a final glance at her progress, she grabbed her coat and headed out the door, eager to catch up with Helaena and unwind a little over lunch.

Y.N. spotted Helaena waiting by the café entrance, her blonde hair blowing softly in the breeze.

Helaena's face lit up the moment she saw her, and Y.N. couldn't help but smile back. As she approached, Helaena reached out, gently taking Y.N.'s hand in hers, guiding her inside.

They found a cozy table by the window, the soft hum of chatter around them as they settled in.

After ordering drinks—a coffee for Helaena and a fruit smoothie for Y.N.—Helaena busied herself with the menu, eyes scanning the options. Y.N., on the other hand, had already decided on her favourite: a jacket potato with tuna, cheese, and, of course, a side of pickles with Helaena eventually settling on a Caesar salad.

As they waited for their food, the conversation shifted to work. Helaena talked about the flower shop she owned just down the street, mentioning how autumn was bringing in new customers.

It was comforting, chatting about the mundane, but Helaena soon changed the topic with a knowing smile.

“So,” Helaena began casually, “-How are things going with Aemond?”

Y.N. nearly choked on her smoothie, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Uh, well-I’m not sure what’s going on, honestly,” she admitted, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks.

Helaena leaned forward; her gaze soft yet knowing. “Is it because you two keeping having sex? Or is it because you're pregnant?”

Y.N. froze, her eyes widening. “H-How do you know?”

Helaena smiled warmly. “Aemond called me this morning,” she explained. “Don’t worry, he didn’t say much. Just that there's something between you two and that you’re pregnant.”

Blushing deeper, Y.N. asked hesitantly, “Are you-mad at me? You know, for being with him while he was still with Alys?”

Helaena’s expression softened even more. “Of course not,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s Aemond’s issue, not yours. But if I’m being honest, I always knew something was bound to happen between you two at some point.”

“Really?” Y.N. asked, surprised. “Even back in school when he was-kind of a dick?”

Helaena chuckled lightly, nodding. “Yes, even then. Aemond was dealing with a lot—the loss of his eye, the surgeries, the pain. It was really hard for him. He struggled with his appearance and thought no one would ever love him for the way he looked. But then we became friends, and he really liked you, but he didn’t know how to handle those feelings, so he pushed you away. He’s always felt terrible about how he treated you.”

A tear slipped down Y.N.’s cheek as she listened, and Helaena reached across the table, squeezing her hand gently.

“Just be patient with him,” Helaena said softly.

Y.N. nodded quickly, wiping away her tears just as the food arrived. Helaena laughed as Y.N. immediately dove into the pickles.

“The baby makes me want them,” Y.N. said with a sheepish smile.

Helaena grinned, reaching into her bag. “I know it’s early, but I couldn’t help myself.” She handed Y.N. a small gift bag. Inside was an adorable bib with the words ‘I have a cool auntie’ written across it.

Y.N. laughed, her heart warming. “Thank you, Helaena. It’s so sweet.”

Helaena winked. “No, thank you for having sex with my brother. Now I get to have a niece or nephew to spoil.”

Y.N. rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling at her friend. The two shared a warm moment before tucking into their meals, the worries of the world set aside for now.

Y.N. arrived home, juggling her bag and the stack of mail she’d collected on the way in. She sorted through the envelopes, her eyes catching on one particular letter—the familiar scrawl of Jace’s handwriting on the front.

With a sigh, she tucked it into a drawer, deciding she didn’t have the energy to deal with whatever was inside.

She moved on, opening another envelope, this one from the midwives. It was her appointment letter for the ten-week checkup. The date—October 22nd.

Smiling softly, she grabbed her phone and texted Aemond about the appointment, knowing he’d want to be there. A few minutes later, her phone buzzed with his reply:

‘Thanks for telling me. I’ll be there’.

Y.N smiled as she put her phone down, she then reached down and pulled her shoes off.

“That feels good” muttered Y.N as she headed down the hallway towards the bathroom.

She put the plug in the bath and added a little too much of her rose scented bubble bath, before shedding her clothes and throwing them in the wash basket.

The moment she sank into the warm water, surrounded by bubbles, she let out a contented sigh. The warmth soaked into her muscles, easing her tension. After washing her hair and body, she laid back, closing her eyes.

Her thoughts soon drifted to Aemond and their baby, and she placed a hand on her stomach, wondering about the future.

Would she even be a good mother? The thought stirred something deep within her—she had no real role model to draw from.

Her own mother had abandoned her when she was a toddler, and she never knew her father. Her grandfather, the one who raised her, had passed away just after she’d finished college.

She missed him very much, and the way he would always insist on a cup of tea and a biscuit at 11am whilst he listened to the wireless as he called it, the way he would go for his morning paper at the same time every day, and how he would read a new book every week from the local library as he insisted on keeping his mind active.

Even on the nights when he insisted on having a cheeky glass of whiskey and tonic water, she remembered how he taught her how to count money, and tell the time, the man had the patience of a saint.

He even taught her how to ride a bike and funnily enough how to roller blade, she laughed at the memory of him chasing after her as she went a bit too fast down a hill and fell cutting her knees open.

She then had a thought, that maybe, if the baby was a boy, she could name him after her grandfather.

Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Y.N. groaned, stepping out of the bath and wrapping a dressing gown around her. She hurried to the door, praying that it wasn’t Jace.

When she opened it, Aemond stood there, his expression tense. Before she could say anything, he launched himself at her, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

"Aemond?" Y.N. asked, confused, her words muffled against his chest. "What's wrong?"

He pulled back slightly, his eye wide with concern. "Don’t scare me like that again."

"Scare you? What do you mean?"

"I called you a bunch of times, but you didn’t answer,” Aemond explained, his voice tinged with frustration. “I thought something had happened."

Y.N. blinked. "I’m fine. I was just in the bath."

At her words, Aemond visibly relaxed, his grip on her loosening as he let out a breath. "Okay. I just—"

She cut him off with a soft smile, closing the door behind them to keep her nosey neighbours from gawking.

"I’m okay, Aemond. Promise."

As the tension eased, Aemond’s attention shifted around the flat. His eye landed on a stone figure placed on her dining table. He walked over, inspecting it with curiosity.

“What’s this for?” he asked, gesturing to the statue.

“Oh, surely you know that books aren’t the only things I restore,” Y.N. said, stepping up beside him. “That’s a piece for the museum. They asked me to restore it.”

The statue was of a woman, possibly a Greek goddess, though time and neglect had left it damaged. Despite that, the design was still beautiful.

Aemond looked impressed. “That’s amazing”.

“It’s for an exhibition in a few months, so I have to get it done by then.”

“I’m sure you will,” he said confidently, before adding with a smirk, “I didn’t notice it this morning.”

Y.N. laughed. “That’s because it arrived this afternoon.”

Aemond’s smile faded into a look of concern. “Please don’t tell me you carried it from work by yourself.”

She scowled at him playfully. “I’m not some weakling, Aemond.”

“I know, but you’re also pregnant,” he reminded her. “You have to be careful with heavy lifting.”

Y.N. couldn’t help but smile at his protectiveness. “Don’t worry. It was delivered by the museum.”

Satisfied, Aemond took a closer look at the statue, his interest piqued. “I’ve always been fascinated by history.”

“Yeah. I remember how nerdy you were about it back in school,” Y.N. teased.

Aemond chuckled. “You were just as much of a history nerd if I recall.”

She laughed, recalling a memory. “I still remember that time I answered a question before you in class. You were livid.”

Aemond smiled at the memory, his tone mock-serious. “You infuriated me.”

“Well, it made my day,” Y.N. shot back with a grin, “-Finally getting one over on the all-knowing Aemond Targaryen.”

They shared a laugh, the old academic rivalry from school long buried but still amusing. Aemond’s gaze softened as he asked, “Are you working on anything else?”

“Not right now,” she replied. “This piece will take a few weeks. Then I’ll take on something new-”

“I think it’s fascinating” said Aemond.

“W-Would you like to see pictures of the other works I’ve restored?” asked Y.N

“I’d love to” replied Aemond eagerly.

With a nod, Y.N. handed him a thick photo album. Aemond flipped through the pages, marvelling at the before-and-after shots of her work.

His genuine interest made Y.N.’s heart swell. Jace had never shown this kind of enthusiasm for what she did, he just mostly complained.

When Aemond finished, he handed the album back, a thoughtful look on his face. “You ever think about starting your own business?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Y.N. admitted. “But setting up a business can be very expensive, and I don’t want to leave Mr. Howlett in the lurch. He gave me my first job after college.”

Aemond nodded. “I understand, but surely Mr. Howlett would want to see you succeed instead of working in some-dingy store.”

Y.N. crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “ Hark at Mr. Snooty Pants. If it doesn’t have fifty floors and its own receptionist, it’s not good enough, huh?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Aemond said, exasperated. “I just think—"

“Well, that’s what it sounded like,” she interrupted, her voice rising slightly.

Aemond took a deep breath, steadying himself. “All I meant was that Mr. Howlett probably wants you to do well, wherever that may be.”

Y.N. shrugged, her frustration ebbing. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t afford it. I have student debt, and now, with the baby—”

“I’m helping with the baby, remember?” Aemond reminded her, his voice gentle but firm.

“I know,-” Y.N. replied, her voice softening. “But I’m not a charity case.”

Aemond frowned. “I never said you were. Why are you twisting my words?”

Before he could brace for an argument, Y.N. suddenly burst into tears.

Aemond was startled at first, but then instinctively pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly as she sobbed against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Y.N. sniffled, her voice muffled by his shirt. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’ve just been so emotional lately.”

Aemond gently wiped her tears away and cupped her face. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

She gave a watery laugh. “I cried earlier because I ate all the pickles.”

Aemond smiled, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I think I might know of a way to make you feel better,” he whispered, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered something naughty.

Y.N. blushed, her cheeks burning. "Aemond!" she exclaimed, swatting at him playfully, though she couldn’t help but smile.

“So-shall we?” asked Aemond as he offered her his hand.

Y.N playfully hesitated for a moment before she took his hand and followed him to her bedroom.

As Y.N. stood in the lift, she found herself reflecting on the past two weeks. Almost every night had been spent with Aemond at her flat, their evenings filled with conversations about work, shared meals, and a surprising amount of amazing sex.

Sometimes she cooked, and other times Aemond amazed her with his culinary skills. Their nights always ended the same way—the two of them together in bed.

She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening between them, as they’d never discussed it but whatever it was, she liked it. She felt a sense of warmth and connection that she hadn’t anticipated.

The lift dinged, pulling her from her thoughts. She stepped out onto the 20th floor of Targaryen Inc. and approached the receptionist, offering a polite smile.

“I’m here to see Aemond.”

The receptionist returned her smile. “Mr. Targaryen is expecting you.”

Y.N. nodded in thanks and entered Aemond’s office. He was on the phone, clearly in the middle of a heated argument. His eye flicked up when he saw her, and he waved her over to the sofa. She took a seat quietly, trying not to intrude.

“I don’t care!” Aemond's voice was sharp, frustration laced in his tone. “I’m a grown man—you don’t command me!”

Y.N. flinched when he slammed his fist down on the desk, her heart skipping a beat.

“I’m done with this conversation,” Aemond finished, slamming the phone down. He sighed heavily, his expression softening when he turned to her. “Sorry you had to hear that. Just my grandsire trying to tell me what to do.”

Y.N. gave a small smile, though she still felt a bit shaken by his outburst. “Maybe, in some twisted way, he thinks he’s looking out for you.”

Aemond scoffed, shaking his head. “Trust me, in this instance, he’s not.”

She didn't press further, instead changing the subject. “Are you ready for the appointment?”

Aemond nodded eagerly, rising from his chair and pulling on his jacket.

As they left the office, his hand settled on the small of her back, a comforting gesture that made her heart flutter.

They stepped into the empty lift together, and Y.N. giggled quietly when she felt his fingers teasing her side, a mischievous smile tugging at Aemond’s lips.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin as he began pressing gentle kisses along her neck.

“-Aemond” gasped Y.N.

Aemond then spun her against the side of the lift and pressed his lips to hers in a slow, passionate kiss. His hands sliding around her body, pulling her close as the kiss deepened.

The lift pinged open on the ground floor, and at the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat, Aemond detached himself from Y.N to see Alys glaring at the two of them.

Aemond's entire demeanour shifted, his hand tightening protectively around Y.N.

“What are you doing here?” Aemond asked, his tone cold.

Alys’s eyes flickered between the two of them before she replied, “I’m here with Larys. He has a meeting with Rhaenyra.”

“Excuse us, but we have an appointment with the midwives” said Aemond his voice was clipped and slightly dismissive, but Alys sneered, her eyes landing on Y.N.

“Oh yes, the child,” she said, her tone laced with contempt.

Y.N. turned to Aemond. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she said, sensing the tension and wanting to avoid a confrontation.

But Alys wasn’t finished. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t leave on my account. You’ve already helped yourself to everything I had, so you may as well take my time as well.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened. “Apologize,” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Y.N. placed a hand on his arm. “No, it’s fine. Alys has a right to be angry.”

Aemond frowned. “Maybe, but it was me who came onto you.”

Alys let out a bitter laugh, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Oh, and there was me thinking that Y.N. intentionally seduced you and got pregnant.”

Y.N.'s fists clenched at the accusation. “What?”

Alys's voice was dripping with sarcasm. “He’s a Targaryen and he’s wealthy. It’s easy to assume you’d want a child with him, a way to secure a permanent tie to the family name considering you have no family of your own-”

Aemond could see the fury shaking through Y.N. and as she took a step towards Alys, he quickly moved forward, grabbing the back of her coat, to stop her from throwing a punch at Alys.

After a tense pause, Y.N. exhaled sharply. “Not everyone wants Aemond for his money or his name, Alys. I’m not you.”

Alys’s eyes flared with anger. “How dare you—”

“I’m done,” Y.N. said firmly, shaking off Aemond’s hand. “I’m going to wait outside.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Aemond standing there with Alys.

Aemond turned back to Alys, his expression hard. “If you want to hate someone, then hate me. I’m the one who pursued Y.N., not the other way around. There’s no need to speak to her like that.”

Alys pressed the button to call the lift, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him. “I always knew you had a thing for her,” she said, her voice softening to something almost wistful. “Just surprised it took you this long to act on it.”

Before Aemond could reply, the lift doors slid open, and Alys stepped inside.

The doors closed with a soft thud, leaving Aemond standing alone. He let out a slow breath, collecting himself before heading outside.

He found Y.N. standing by his car, her arms crossed as she stared out into the street. She didn’t look at him when he approached, but she didn’t move away either.

“Y.N-” Aemond started softly, unsure of what to say.

She glanced at him, her expression tired but not angry. “Let’s just get to the appointment.”

Y.N. and Aemond sat in the waiting room of the midwives in complete silence. Ever since their encounter with Alys, Y.N. hadn't spoken a word, her fingers restlessly fiddling with the rings on her hand.

Aemond watched her, feeling awful. He knew that Alys’ insinuations had cut deep. Y.N. was no gold digger—he knew that better than anyone—but the way Alys had framed it was enough to wound her. He longed to say something, to make it better, but the words stuck in his throat.

"Y.N.?" A nurse called out, breaking the tension between them.

Y.N. stood up, and Aemond followed as they were led into a small room. The older midwife, a kind-looking woman with greying hair, smiled warmly.

“Hi, I’m Marie, and this is Kelly,” she introduced her assistant, a young woman who was there to observe and learn. “Kelly is training today, if that's okay with you?”

Y.N. nodded quietly, still not saying much. She sat down and introduced Aemond as the father, trying to keep her composure. Kelly’s eyes went wide with recognition as she stared at Aemond.

“Aemond Targaryen?” Kelly gasped, and Y.N. felt a flicker of irritation as the young assistant's eyes lingered on him.

Y.N. shot her a scowl, but Kelly seemed oblivious, too engrossed in staring at Aemond, who moved to sit as close to Y.N. as possible.

Marie began asking Y.N. questions about how she was feeling and how the pregnancy had been progressing so far. Y.N. answered quietly, just wanting to get through the appointment.

“All right, Y.N.,” Marie said after a few moments. “Let's do a scan, shall we? Could you lay down on the table?”

Y.N. lay back on the examination table, exposing her stomach as Aemond stood by her side, his expression softening with excitement.

As Marie asked for the gel, Y.N. noticed Kelly still gazing at Aemond, utterly distracted. Marie snapped her fingers sharply.

“Kelly, the gel, please,” Marie said, sounding annoyed.

Kelly blushed and fumbled as she handed the gel to Marie, who shot her a disapproving look. “You need to pay more attention,” Marie scolded under her breath.

The gel was warm as Marie spread it across Y.N.’s stomach, and soon the image of their baby appeared on the screen. Aemond’s eye lit up with wonder, and without thinking, he took Y.N.’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“The baby has a strong heartbeat, and everything looks good,” Marie said, taking measurements. “Growing nicely.”

Y.N. glanced up at Aemond, who was utterly mesmerized by the screen. The baby’s tiny legs wiggled, and his smile grew wider. Marie froze the image and printed two pictures.

As Y.N. wiped the gel off her stomach, Marie reminded her to eat well and take her vitamins, setting the next appointment for four weeks.

Just as they were wrapping up, Kelly approached Aemond shyly, holding the printed scan pictures with an obvious blush on her cheeks.

Y.N. felt a flash of rage bubbling inside her as she watched the woman practically fawn over him. With a sharp tut, Y.N. snatched the pictures from Kelly’s hands, her patience at its limit. She spun on her heel and walked out of the room without a word.

Behind her, she could hear Marie scolding Kelly. “You need to be more professional, young lady.”

Aemond quickly followed Y.N., not saying a word as they left the building and headed toward the car.

Once inside, Y.N. handed Aemond one of the scan pictures. She watched as he stared at it, his expression softening with awe.

“Are you okay?” Y.N. asked gently, her anger at Kelly fading.

Aemond swallowed, his voice quiet. “There’s really a baby in there.”

Y.N. rolled her eyes slightly, scoffing. “Surely you didn’t think I was lying.”

“No, not for a second,” Aemond replied, his eye still fixed on the picture. “It’s just-being there, seeing the baby moving around. It’s real. There’s going to be a tiny person who’s going to depend on me, and-I don’t want to mess it up.”

Y.N. reached over and took his hand, her thumb stroking his knuckles. “You won’t mess it up, Aemond.”

He shook his head, a worried look crossing his face. “How can you be so sure? My father wasn’t exactly present, I have no idea how to be a good father.”

Y.N. nodded, understanding his fear. “I know how you feel. I have no idea who my father is, and I never had a mother. I’m terrified too. But all we can do is be there for this baby and support each other. Sure, there’ll be ups and downs, but we’ll get through it together.”

Aemond looked at her, a grateful smile pulling at his lips. “Thank you,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y.N. blushed slightly, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice.

Before she could say anything else, Aemond’s expression changed to something more mischievous. “By the way, I’m taking you back to my penthouse.”

Y.N. raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And what makes you think I want to go there?”

Aemond grinned, leaning closer. “Because if you do then I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue” he whispered teasingly.

Y.N.’s cheeks flushed a deep red as she tried not to smile. Aemond chuckled as he started the car, the tension from earlier melting away as they drove back to his penthouse.

The night was spent with Aemond keeping to his word and doing that thing with his tongue that Y.N liked before he fucked her into the mattress, thrusting his cock inside her with a series of deep measured thrusts that made her toes curl.

Y.N. smiled with satisfaction as she carefully placed the restored book into a protective sleeve, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment.

The book had been her focus for weeks, and now, it was ready for the customer to collect. Mr. Howlett, her boss, marvelled at her delicate work.

"Exceptional job as always, Y.N.," he praised, gently handling the book. "I’ll contact the customer to let them know it's ready for pickup."

As he placed the book behind the counter, he added, "By the way, you have a visitor."

Y.N. sighed as soon as she spotted Jace hovering by one of the display shelves.

She approached him, and Jace immediately pulled her into a hug. Y.N. stiffened, awkwardly stepping out of his embrace.

"What are you doing here, Jace?" she asked, her tone clipped but controlled.

Jace gave her a sheepish look. "I was wondering if we could go out for lunch and talk."

Against her better judgment, Y.N. agreed. Mostly because she was hungry and because she needed to tell Jace the truth about Aemond being the father of her baby.

She excused herself to Mr. Howlett before they headed to the café on the corner.

Once inside, Y.N. ordered a cheeseburger with fries and extra pickles, while Jace opted for an all-day breakfast. They sat in awkward silence until Jace finally broke it.

"Are you still set on us being over?" he asked quietly, his voice uncertain.

Y.N. sighed, nodding. "Yes, Jace. I’m pregnant with another man’s child. How could we possibly get back together?"

Jace leaned forward, his expression desperate. "I want to be with you. I’m willing to help raise the baby."

Y.N. was about to respond when their food arrived. She thanked the waitress before immediately reaching for her pickles, devouring them. Jace watched her with mild disgust, but Y.N. didn’t care.

"What?" she snapped, catching his look. "I’m hungry."

Jace just shrugged and started eating his own food.

Halfway through her burger, Y.N. wiped her mouth and took a deep breath. "Getting back together isn’t what I want, Jace. I meant it when I said it was over between us."

Jace swallowed the food in his mouth, his eyes hardening. "Is it because of Sara?"

Y.N. shook her head. "No, it’s because I don’t love you anymore, and I’m pregnant with another man’s child. Getting back together is out of the question."

Jace’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. "Are you going to tell me who the father is?"

Y.N. hesitated, knowing how explosive this moment was going to be. "Promise me you won’t go ballistic."

Jace forced a smile, a weak lie in his voice. "I won’t. I promise."

Y.N. took a deep breath, steeling herself for the fallout. "The father is Aemond."

For a moment, Jace was quiet. Then, his face twisted in anger. "My uncle?" he hissed, standing up abruptly. "You slept with my uncle? How desperate are you to spread your legs for him?"

Y.N. flinched, but her anger quickly flared. "Are you calling me a whore?"

"Yes!" Jace spat, his voice rising as people in the café began to stare. "My uncle, Y.N.? After all the trouble me and Luke have had with him over the years, and you go and get pregnant with his baby?"

Y.N. glanced around nervously, her voice low but urgent. "Jace, keep your voice down. People are staring."

"I don’t care!" Jace shouted, ignoring her plea. "I was a fool to think we could get back together. There’s no way I’m raising Aemond’s kid."

"No one asked you to," Y.N. retorted, her voice trembling with emotion. "And as for getting back together, you’re the one who kept pushing for it."

Jace scoffed. "You have no standards, Y.N. How could you let that animal touch you?"

"Aemond isn’t an animal!" Y.N. shouted back, her face flushed with fury.

"Of course he is," Jace growled. "Don’t you remember when he threatened to kill Luke?"

"That was said in a rush of anger!" Y.N. snapped. "And Luke was the one who slashed out Aemond’s eye and wasn’t punished for it."

Jace sneered at her, his voice dripping with disdain. "You’re pathetic, defending him like this. He attacked me and Luke first, and now you’re pregnant with his child."

Y.N. shot back, "That’s because you spent years bullying him!"

Jace’s eyes narrowed. "You only know what he told you."

Y.N. shook her head. "Actually, it was Helaena who told me what happened."

Jace scoffed bitterly. "Well, I hope Mr. Moneybags is worth it."

Y.N. felt tears sting her eyes, her voice breaking as she replied, "How can you say that when you live off your mother’s money? At least Aemond works for his."

Jace’s face twisted in rage. "Aemond knocked you up but won’t marry you. What does that tell you?"

Y.N. shot back, "He actually offered to marry me, but I turned him down."

Before Jace could respond, the café owner appeared, looking stern.

"That’s enough. You’re upsetting the lady and causing a scene. It’s time for you to leave."

Jace glared at Y.N. before snapping, "With pleasure!" He stormed off, slamming the door behind him.

The owner turned to Y.N., his voice gentle. "Are you all right, miss?"

Y.N. nodded, but the moment he asked, the emotions overwhelmed her, and she burst into tears.

Aemond sat behind his desk, feeling the strain of the day weighing heavily on him.

His head throbbed as his eye strained from staring at reports for hours. With a frustrated groan, he took off his eyepatch and rubbed the sides of his head, hoping to relieve some of the pressure.

Just as he was about to relax for a moment, his phone rang. Y.N.'s name flashed on the screen, and he answered immediately, his heart pounding.

"Hello? Y.N.?"

But instead of her familiar voice, a man answered, “Hello, is this Aemond Targaryen?”

Aemond's heart raced even faster. “Yes, where is Y.N.?” he demanded, standing up abruptly from his desk.

“She’s with me, but she’s very upset. She asked for you,” the man explained, his voice calm but concerned.

“Where are you?” Aemond barked, already reaching for his jacket and eyepatch.

The man gave him directions to a nearby café. Without another word, Aemond hung up, and told his assistant to cancel his meeting later that day. He sprinted to his car, the only thought in his mind being Y.N.

In record time, he arrived at the café and scanned the room until he saw her, huddled in the corner. The moment their eyes met, Y.N. rushed into his arms, her body trembling as she buried her face in his chest.

"Do you think I'm after your money?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion.

Aemond cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. "Fuck no. What’s going on?"

Y.N. took a shaky breath. "Jace showed up at my work, and I agreed to go to lunch with him to tell him who the father of the baby is."

Aemond’s face hardened. "I guess he didn’t take it well."

She shook her head. "No. He basically called me a whore-and referred to you as moneybags"

Aemond scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. "He lives off a generous allowance from Rhaenyra. How dare he say that to you?"

Y.N. sniffled. "I-I don’t care about your money."

“I know that,” Aemond said softly, stroking her cheek. “Jace is just a piece of shit.”

“He might come after you,” Y.N. worried aloud.

Aemond's eye narrowed, his voice cold. “Let him try. He’ll be missing a few teeth if he does. He’s jealous, Y.N., plain and simple. And I don’t for one second think you’re after my money. You have your own job, and you’re incredibly talented.”

Y.N. blushed at his praise, and Aemond smirked, pulling her closer. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll go back to my place, snuggle up, order takeout, and watch a movie of your choice.”

Her smile returned, even if just a little. “Deep Blue Sea.”

Aemond groaned playfully. “What is it with you and shark movies?”

Y.N. shrugged with a giggle, and Aemond chuckled softly.

Before they left, Aemond thanked the café owner for taking care of Y.N.

“It’s no trouble,” the owner replied kindly. “No one deserves to be spoken to like that.”

Aemond thanked him again and took Y.N.’s hand, leading her to his car.

Once back at his penthouse, Aemond immediately ran her a bath, telling her to relax and that she could wear one of his T-shirts and shorts when she was done.

“I’ll get the takeout menus ready for when you’re out.”

As Y.N. soaked in the bath, Aemond made a call to Rhaenyra. He wasn’t exactly fond of his half sister, but over time, they had managed to put aside their differences for the sake of the family business. Still, he couldn’t let Jace’s behaviour slide.

“Rhaenyra,” he greeted when she answered, "I need to talk to you about Jace."

She sighed on the other end of the line. "I already know. Jace called me earlier, ranting about it."

Aemond’s tone remained firm. “Regardless of what has happened between us in the past, Jace shouldn’t have spoken to Y.N. like that. I never expected to get her pregnant, but it happened, and I will do everything in my power to protect her and our child.”

Rhaenyra was quiet for a moment before saying, “I’ll deal with Jace. I hope Y.N. is all right.”

“She will be,” Aemond replied, his gratitude evident in his voice. "Thank you."

Just as he hung up, Y.N. emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his oversized T-shirt and shorts, her hair damp and loose around her shoulders.

She looked more at ease, and Aemond smiled at the sight, his cock responding in earnest to the sight of her dressed in his clothes.

“Pick out what you want to eat,” he said, handing her the menus as he willed away his erection.

She had just started browsing when the doorbell rang. Aemond groaned, walking to the door. He opened it to be instantly greeted by Aegon and Daeron.

Aegon shoved a case of beer into Aemond's arms, and Daeron waved a deck of cards in his face. “Don’t tell me you forgot about game night.”

“Well, I—” Aemond began, but he stopped when both his brothers noticed that Y.N. was standing in the living room, dressed in Aemond’s clothes.

The atmosphere instantly shifted, both brothers grinning mischievously.

“Oh,” Aegon drawled, eyeing them both with interest. “Not interrupting anything are we?"

TBC

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader

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schoenpepper · 1 day

Text

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

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gibbysoup · 3 days

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🌙 𝓗𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼 🐈‍⬛

Chris x reader

“Oh come on it’s just a bunch of hocus pocus”

Chapter 1

Warning: 90s bullying, almost fight, crying

A/n: I don’t own the rights to hocus pocus, I changed a couple things to fit this story

Halloween, a day that y/n truly just never understood. Even when she was a little kid, she thought the idea of putting on a costume and getting candy was a dumb idea, and as a now teenager, she definitely still thought it was dumb.

Moving to a new town wasn’t exactly what you wanted to do for your junior year of high school. You were happy at home, you loved sitting in the sun and jamming to Jimi Hendrix. But that was now all coming to an end as you now had to start wearing a coat in October due to the weather in Salem.

After a shitty day of school, all you wanted to do was take a nap, listen to some music or catch a scary movie on tv. But your parents had different planes for you. Your little sister Dani had been persistent on you taking her treat or treating around the new town. They thought it would be good for her to meet kids her age in the neighborhood. The only problem for you was that your parents would be going to a Halloween party that night, so you were now on trick or treating duty.

———————

“Let’s go, hurry up. The bewitching hour’s about to begin!” Your father yelled up the stairs to you and Dani. She ran down the stairs, eager to show your parents her witch costume. Once your father saw Dani he smiled at her. “That’s very scary, wow!” He then turned to you. “What about you, y/n, what are you supposed to be?” He asked you.

She looked at him. “A little leaguer..” y/n said, dead paned. She hadn’t put too much effort into her costume. It had been a while since she had actually trick or treated. She could tell that her father was just trying to get her a little more excited about the holiday, but she just stood there, frowning in her baseball cap and jacket.

Your mother came in, holding a camera to take a of the three of you to capture the moment. “Say Halloween!” She beamed.

“Halloween!” Dani and her father said, well she just stood there, a slight scowl on her face.

———————-

Y/n was carting Dani around to different houses so she can go trick-or-treating. Every house was decorated to the max. lights, pumpkins, fake spider webs and witches. Dani was clearly enjoying getting candy and going house to house, but y/n just dragged her feet the whole way.

“Lighten’ up, y/n.” Dani told her older sister, annoyed that she was clearly bringing the mood down.

Y/n heard this and rolled her eyes. “Can we go home now?” She requested, but Dani just shook her head.

“Nope.”

Just then y/n spots Jay and Ice and some of their friends harassing the kids passing by for candy. She knew those kids were bad news and she didn’t want Dani caught in the cross fire. And just before y/n had been tormented by the two earlier didn’t mean that Dani should be subjected to it.

“Let’s just go this way.” Y/n said, trying to get Dani to make her way to a different house that she could collect candy at but Dani headed straight for Ice and Jay, ignoring y/n. “Dani!0 she shouted, trying to get the attention of her younger sister, but it was no use.

“Ding ding. Ding ding.” Ice heldup his leg so Dani can’t passed him when she tried to enter the house.

“Stop and pay the toll, kid.” Jay told her.

“Ten chocolate bars, no licorice.” Ice said, gesturing to her pillowcase filled with candy.

“Dump out your sack!” Jay shouted at her.

“Drop dead, moron.” Dani spat, trying to make the boys leave her alone.

“Yo, twerp. How’d you like to be hung off that telephone pole?” Ice asked her, a slightly threaten tone in his voice.

“I’d just like to see you try it. Cause it just so happens I’ve got my big sister with me. Y/n!” She said, trying to scare the boys away from her.

Jay and Ice were clearly not impressed or intimidated by this threat. But they especially weren’t scared when they saw y/n walk up.

“Hollywood. Oh no.” Ice said, pretending to be scared of the girl as she approached the two boys and there group of followers. She had earned the nickname Hollywood due to her being from California. Apparently everyone in Salem thinks that just because you live in California means you live in Hollywood.

“So you’re doing a little trick-or-treating?” Jay asked, stepping closer to y/n.

She shook her head. “I’m taking my little sister around.” She answered.

“That’s nice. Whoa, I love the costume. But what are you supposed to be? A New Kid on the Block?” He asked her, his little minions laughing at his joke.

“For your information, shes a little leaguer!” Dani said, not making the situation any better.

“Whoa, little leaguer!” Jay said, He and Ice started to fake play a game of baseball to mock y/n. Dani tried to walk by again, but was unsuccessful.

“Wait a minute. Everyone pays the toll.” Ice reminded her.

“Stuff it, zit face.” Dani sassed back.

“Why you little…” ice said, moving to hit Dani, but y/n quickly stepped in the way, protecting her sister.

“Hey, Ice…” y/n shoved her bag of candy at him. “Here. Pig out. Come on Dani, let’s go.” She said, grabbing her little sisters hand and walked her in the other direction.

“See you later Hollywood…” Ice taunted, waving goodbye to the girls as him and his crew laughed.

—————-

Y/n and Dani walk up the steps to another house for more candy. Dani was still upset about the interaction prior. “You should have punched them.” Dani told y/n.

“They would have killed me.” Y/n said to her. Not only were they bigger than her, but she was also out numbered.

“At least it would have made your reputation at school a little better.” Dani snarked.

Y/n was fed up, she had a bad day, a bad Halloween, and overall just a bad life. “Hey! You just humiliated me in front of half the guys at school! So collect your candy and get out of my life!” She yelled. She didn’t even know what she was saying, she was just letting her anger and humiliation speak. But the look on little Dani’s face just showed heartbreak.

“I wanna go home! Now!” She exclaimed, storming off.

Y/n rushes off after her, finally tracking her down as Dani was now crying into a hey-barrel that was a part of someone’s Halloween decorations.

She looked down at her crying little sister who had her face in her hands as she weeped. Y/n knew this whole move was non of her fault, so she shouldn’t even be taking this anger and frustration out on her. She sat down next to her.

“Dani, I’m sorry. It’s just that I hate this place. I miss all my friends. I wanna go home.” Y/n confessed. “It’s just been hard..”

Dani looked up at y/n, tears streaming down her face. “Well this is your home now, so get used to it.” Dani said, sniffing and wiping her nose.

Y/n sighed, she knew that Dani was right. She needed to except that Salem was there home now and they were stuck here, well she was stuck here until she graduated and went off to collage.“Yeah. Give me one more chance?” She asked her little sister, hoping she could be forgiven.

“Why should I?” Dani gave her a skeptical look.

“Cause I’m your big sister.” She said, causing Dani to laugh, then reach up and hug her older sister. Y/n wrapped her arms around Dani, holding her in a tight embrace before looking up at the sky. “Whoa, did check that out.” She pointed out to Dani to look up and see.

“What?” Dani questioned, her curiosity peaked.

“Something just flew across the moon.” Y/n said.

Dani looks up and y/n jumps at her and scares her a bit. They both laugh. It was a sweet moment being shared by two sisters.

“Let’s go, jerk face.” Dani giggling. Y/n didn’t say anything back, instead she just laughed at her childish insult.

They both stood up and turned to look at the house, only it was a beautiful mansion.

“Whoa!” They both said, staring at the large building in amazement

“Check out this house.” Y/n said.

“Ah, rich people. They’ll probably make us drink cider and bob for apples.” Dani said, looking up at her other sister. They both gave a nod and walked into the house.

The entered the Foyer seeing that the door was wide open. “Trick-or-treat?!” They both said, looking around. Dani’s eyes went wide when she spotted a huge cauldron full of candy. “Jackpot!” Dani said, immediately running over to get her share of candy. “They got kind sized candy bars!” Dani said excitedly, holding up a chocolate bar to show her sister.

“Y/n Denison..” a voice said, she looked up and saw none other then Chris sturniolo, a boy from one of her classes that she totally was crushing on. She slightly froze, dropping whatever candy she had in her hand as he made his way down the stairs. She was now starting to wonder how he even remembered her name.

“Chris…hi..” she had said, slightly nervous to now be in his house. She was suddenly worried about how she looked or where her hands were placed.

“Oh, chris huh?” Dani smirked, looking up at y/n.

Y/n looked down at the younger girl and gave her what can only be described as a death glare, hoping it would shut her up from further embarrassing her in front of her crush.

“I thought you weren’t into Halloween.” Chris said making his way down the large staircase, coming to greet the both of the two girls

“I’m not, I’m just taking my little sister, Dani, around.” She said. Y/n wasn’t at all surprise that Chris had remembered what she had said earlier in class that day and about Halloween being made up by the candy companies.

Chris shot y/n and Dani a warm smiling before speaking. “Well that’s nice, my brother used to do that with me and my brothers.” He said.

“I always do it.” Y/n told Chris, acting like the whole thing was her idea, but Dani had to butt in and open her mouth.

“My parents made her.” Dani told Chris. Once again, y/n shot her little sister a death glare, giving her a slight elbow to the shoulder, hoping that would give her the hit to stop talking.

After a moment of silent had passed, Chris spoke. “Do you guys want some cider?” He offered the two girls.

“No.” Dani said flatly, but at the same time, y/n answered. “Sure!”

Chris went over and got two cups of cider. One for him and one for y/n. He came back and handed the other cup to y/n. “Thanks. So, um, how’s the party?” She asked him.

“Boring. It’s just a bunch of my parent’s friends. They do this every year. I’ve got candy duty” he said. “Or well, I was supposed to have some help but my bothers seem to have forgotten that there supposed to help me.” He said. He motioned for his brothers to come join him. Two boys who looked identical to Chris walked over. She knew Chris was a triplet, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember there names.

Matt and nick had entered the foyer, dragging their attention away from the party. “This is Nick and Matt.” He said gesturing to each of his brother’s respectively. “This is y/n, and her sister Dani. They just moved here for California.” He explained, then looking back at you.

“Wait there’s three of you?” Dani questioned, looking back and fourth at the three teenagers.

“Yeah Dani, that’s kinda the whole point of triplets.” She pointed out to her.

Dani looked up at y/n. “Duh…I know what triplets are.” She said, rolling her eyes. The three boys laughed at the interaction, knowing the sibling back and fourth all too well.

“By the way, Dani, I love your costume, I’m like, really into witches..” Nick said, complimenting Dani on her purple witch costume.

Dani seemed to light up at the compliment. “Thank you, and so am I. We just learned about those sisters in school.” Dani said, clearly very into her conversation with Nick, he even leaned down a bit to get to her level.

“Oh, you mean the Sanderson sisters?” Matt asked, inserting himself into the conversation. “We know all about them, our Mom used to run the museum.” He told her.

Dani’s eyes seemed to widen at the mention of a museum. “here’s a museum about ‘em?” She asked excitedly.

“Yeah, but they shut it down because a lot of spooky things happened there.” Nick said, obviously trying to spook her out a bit.

Just then an idea popped into y/ns head. “Well, why don’t we go to this old Sanderson house?” She suggested.

At the mention of this, Dani shakes her head no. Chris and his brothers look at y/n, trying to figure out if she was being for real or just messing around. “Well come on, make a believer out of me.” She challenged, knowing it was pretty much just an excuse to maybe spend some more time with Chris.

The brothers shared a couple looks, before finally speaking again, and it was Chris. “Okay, let us go change first.” Chris said. “They won’t miss me, trust me.” He said to the two before going upstairs with his brothers.

Once they were out of ear shot, Dani turned to y/n and looked up at her.“y/n, I’m not going up there. My friends at school told me all about that place. It’s weird.” She protested.

Y/n crouched down and got to her sisters level. “Dani, this is the boy of my dreams. He’s like the cutest guy at school.” She tried to explain.

“So, have him take you to the movies like a normal person.” She pleaded, but it was no use.

Y/n sighed. “Dani..Look, just do this one thing for me and I’ll do anything you say. Please? Please?!” She begged her sister. “I’m asking you this as your only sister..”

Dani thought for a moment. “Okay, okay. Next year we go trick-or-treating as Wendy and tinkerbell, with the wings, or it’s no deal.” She offered.

Y/n sighed once more, before finally giving in and compromising with her sister. “Okay, okay, deal!” She said.

A/n: omg…the support for this story is already insane…thank you so much! Hope you enjoy the first chapter!

Taglist: @keerahsturn @fratbrochrisgf @izzykinzz678 @st7rnioioss @jamiesturniolo @v33angel @kaisturni @valkatriee @sturnschrissy

#imagines #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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mikimakiboo · 3 days

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Two for the price of one

Small drabble for @ancha-aus 's new au ! Double Noot ! Or as I like to call it, Noot² ! :D

( part 1 by ancha, read it before reading this one maybe- )

Very short but I just wanted to make a little something because I find the concept particularly funny :')

I didn't go too deep into the lore since the story didn't really start yet, I just did the "encounter" with the gang so that's why it is INCREDIBLY short like fr and also because I underestimated how tired I am

Quick summary: Corrupt gets separated from Nightmare (Passive Nightmare, who is still six years old), everyone is confused

Tw: slight mention of miscarriage and pregnancy denial (ik it's weird lmao but dw there is context)

How did this happen ? How did they end up here ? Like this ? How did they end up with a child on their couch when they went out to fight the Star Sanses ?

None of them was speaking, just looking at the little skeleton with lavender eyelights on their couch, the little skeleton looking terrified. They couldn't blame him, who wouldn't be after all ? He appeared.. no, came out of Corrupt, in the middle of a battle field, almost got shot with an arrow, was brought into a new place and was now surrounded by five skeletons: one with four massive tentacles, one with empty sockets and black tar leaking from them, one with a big glowing red eye and a hole in his skull, one you couldn't see his face apart from two piercing mismatched eyelights, and one with a knife almost as big as the child. He had every right to be terrified.

Killer was the one to break the silence first.

- Sooooo... Poptart ?

Corrupt looked up after a few seconds, realizing that Killer was talking to him when he saw everyone's gaze locking on him. His gang, or mates as they called each other, didn't like the name Corrupt, it had a bad connotation, one that meant that he was inherently bad, that there wasn't any good in him, which, to them, was completely false, so as they started dating they also started giving him nicknames, two that came back very often were Poptart and Sweetpie. Corrupt struggled to get used to it, being more accustomed to being insulted, just like the villagers always did. But did they insult him ? They insulted Nightmare, they insulted that little child sitting in front of him, but he wasn't Nightmare, so was he really insulted ? It didn't matter, Dream insulted him too after all, and he wasn't aiming these insults at Nightmare, but at him.

He looked at Killer, waiting for him to say whatever he had in mind.

- Why didn't you tell us you were pregnant ? Or at least tell Horror or Dust cause judging by the kid's eyelights it was one of them who got you pregnant, cause blue and red makes purple so...

Saying that Corrupt was taken aback would have been an understatement, and it didn't help that they were all staring at him, waiting for him to confirm what Killer said. The child, despite still being tensed, was visibly confused as well, but not for the same reason, because he was pretty sure he wasn't anybody's kid, and especially their kid. He would have remembered it.

- I wasn't pregnant.

Corrupt answered after a moment, making Killer frown, doubting the statement.

- Isn't that called a pregnancy denial ? I mean we didn't see you gain weight either so...

Cross asked, a little unsure of how to tackle the subject, he never had to deal with a pregnant monster before, and maybe denials were a sensitive subject, he didn't want to upset his mate by being too straight forward.

Corrupt looked at them, disconcerted.

- I wasn't pregnant, I have never been pregnant, Nightmare was.. I thought.. he was supposed to be dead !

He argued, but he only gained a compassionate look from his mates. Killer put a hand on his shoulder, looking way more serious than he was accustomed to, and he heard Cross mumble Nightmare's name.

- It's okay Poptart, you could have told us you thought you had a miscarriage, we would have supported you, you know..

Horror nodded from behind Killer, and Corrupt knew Dust thought the same even without looking at him.

- For God's sake Killer, I was not pregnant !

He claimed again, wanting to end this nonsense before it got uncontrollable. Killer was about to respond when they heard a sob. They all turned in sync, and saw the child, Nightmare, with tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't like the yelling, it brought back too many bad memories, memories he would have preferred to forget. Corrupt shrugged to get Killer's hand off of his shoulder and went to the child, kneeling to be on the same level as him, and carefully wiped his tears with his thumb. Nightmare flinched, backing against the couch's case, but he didn't chase Corrupt's hand away.

- Hey I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled.. we're not gonna hurt you, you're safe here, you don't have to be scared..

Corrupt apologized, speaking with a soft tone to try and sooth the little one.

Nightmare looked at the goopy skeleton in front of him, still sniffling, but, somehow, he had a vague sense of déjà vu... something in him told him he had already heard those words, already felt this magic... the four white skeletons were new, that he was sure, but this black one, he was familiar...

- If you weren't pregnant... then where does he come from ?

Dust asked, sitting on the other couch, his legs still being sore from the fight. Horror had joined him, Killer and Cross were still standing.

Corrupt sighed, standing up too but staying next to the child who was now only staring at him, trying to remember where he saw him.

- That's Nightmare, the.. the true guardian of negativity, the one who allowed me to come to life by eating the apples. He started to explain as simply as he could. I.. thought he had died in the process, but turns out he was still there, just.. dormant, and invisible..

- But why show up now ?

Killer asked.

- I.. honestly, I don't know, but he's here now, and it's better he stays here.

Corrupt answered. Nightmare frowned, looking at the adult. He gave him life by eating the apples ? He did remember eating the apples from his tree, he remembered the villagers and the pitchforks, he remembered someone told him to let go when he took his first bite, they told him they would protect him, but he had to give up his mind and body. At that time, Nightmare didn't think much, he was already so scared, he would have done anything for someone to fight for him, to protect him, and when he heard this voice, he knew it was his only way out, and he gave up everything, his vision fading to black as he felt everything become numb. This skeleton had the same voice, and he was emanating negativity, a pure one, the same that emanated from his apples. Was he the voice ? He seemed so big... not as big as the other skeletons, but much bigger than him, especially with those tentacles coming from his back. Nightmare remembered his back hurting a lot more than the rest of his body, was it because of the tentacles ? They seemed to be heavy... he slowly reached out to the one that was the closest to him, putting his hand on the appendage, it was surprisingly soft and a little cold too... he felt the negativity swarm up around his hand, resonating with his own...

Corrupt looked down when he felt the child touch his tentacle. He didn't move it, letting him discover it as he pleased.

- So.. we're just gonna take care of a kid now ? Not that I want to abandon him, I sure don't, but.. are we qualified to do that ?

Cross hesitantly asked, tugging on his jacket. This castle was full of dangerous things for a child, and they weren't the most welcoming monsters either, even if he knew no one would hurt Nightmare, maybe he would be better with someone more qualified, like a Toriel or even an Asgore, monsters who had the parental instinct in their codes...

- We'll have to be..

Horror quietly said, looking at the little child on the couch, he had the same amazement in his eyes when looking at the tentacle that his brother always had before the famine took hold of everything...

Killer and Dust shared a look, not sure that they could raise a child. They raised their brother, but it ended up... pretty badly, they weren't sure they could raise someone properly after that. Cross was different, sure he killed his brother too, but he lived through so many different timelines, so many in which he was a good brother, in which he actually was caring until the end, he could manage to raise a child if he wanted to, if he trusted himself enough to do so, but them ? They would probably need to keep their distance, at least for a moment, at least until the kid started to learn how to fight back.

- I trust you all to look out for him, every one of you.

Corrupt assured, looking at his two mates from whom he had felt a peak of negativity. He knew what they were thinking about, but he also knew they wouldn't be a threat for the child, the simple fact that they felt apprehension from the thought of doing so alone was enough proof for him.

- For now he needs a bath, he said, Nightmare's bones and clothes being stained from the goop, I'll take care of it. Killer, you can go with Cross in Littletale and gather some clothes for him. Be careful not to be seen, we don't want the stars to know about that.

Killer nodded after a brief look to the child, and him and Cross disappeared in a portal, going to complete their mission.

- What about us ?

Dust asked.

- Horror can go cook dinner, with an extra dish, and you go to the infirmary and heal yourself, don't think I didn't notice you couldn't move your arm.

Dust didn't respond, only looking down in shame, he thought he hid it well...

Corrupt sighed, turning his attention to the little skeleton once they were alone. Nightmare had looked up when Cross opened the portal for him and Killer to leave, clenching on the tentacle, and was now staring at Corrupt, alert.

- Who... who are they... ?

The child hesitantly asked in a whisper, his voice quiet as he hadn't used it in five hundred years. He already knew who Corrupt was, he said it, but who were the others ? Were they the surviving villagers ? Would they try to finish the job ? What did they want from him ? Why bring him back with them ? Surely it couldn't be good, it has never been good when someone wanted him to stay somewhere...

- They are my... my partners, they have been working with me for many years, they won't harm you, I trust them. You can trust them, too, and if anything, I'll be here to protect you.

He tried to explain as simply as he could. He felt Nightmare relax a little, even if he could still feel his fear deep inside his soul, the child seemed to believe him, maybe because his feelings were clear and not tainted with mischief or bad intentions, or because Nightmare remembered who he was and knew he could at least rely on him a little.

Corrupt knew Nightmare wouldn't trust them straight from the beginning, but if he at least believed they wouldn't hurt him, then it was a good start, because now that he was here, Corrupt would never let him go out. He needed to protect him, he swore to him that he would protect him from the very moment he came to life, it was his whole purpose.

He wouldn't fail.

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pedrilcvr · 10 hours

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PEDRI WHERE WHERE WHERE he comes home after a long, exhausting day and before he can even pull u in for a hug/kiss, u begin to ramble on and on about ur day (he loves it nonetheless), but he just cant help but flicker his gaze down to ur lips ever-so-often and u notice and finally give in

Cherry flavored — Pedri Gonzalez.

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Fem!Reader

Summary: Pedri can’t seem to stop staring at your lips while you’re in the middle of rambling, and you finally notice.

Disclaimer/s: reader is a teacher!

A/N: video from @/bcx0012__ on tiktok!! Vid had me actually crashing out on enya it was soooo. Finished the rest of this draft while suffering from influenza ✊😞

You were sitting on the couch when Pedri walked through the front door. Excitement coursed through your body as you lurched off the couch, rushing toward him with a wide smile on your face. You’d been waiting for him to get home for hours to tell him about your day.

“Pedrooo,” you grin, “i’ve been waiting for you!” You don’t notice the way his arms had reached toward you before slowly dropping back to his side as you began your rant.

“So, my kids were asking about my boyfriend today, well more specifically, you. Then asked why they couldn’t meet you and I had to explain—“ You continued your rant while Pedri set his bag aside and took off his shoes.

You both slowly make your way into the kitchen so Pedri could grab a glass of water while he listened intently. He’d been itching to touch you, to hug or kiss you since he left practice, but he didn’t want to interrupt.

Leaning against the counter, only a few feet away, you continue talking. Hardly registering what Pedri was doing as you were too caught up trying to explain what your student had done.

Your boyfriend adored your rants, especially when talking about your students. He knew how much you loved your job and the kids you taught, and even more, he loved to hear you talk about them.

The way your eyes lit up when you talked about something funny or amusing, was one of those things that he couldn’t stop thinking about even after it goes.

Pedri turns around, closing the fridge behind him, and opening his water bottle. His eyes flickered across your face the more you talked, darting from eyes to lips then back again.

He notes the way your lips were shining, a light red tint to them. You were wearing cherry chapstick, he loved it when you wore that. His lip twitches at the thought of it.

You noticed this immediately, stuttering over your words when his tongue darted out to wet his lips when his eyes were focused in on your lips. “Pedri—Pedro. Stop doing that!” You blush. Yes you blush when your boyfriend does these things. No matter how long you’d been together, he still made you nervous.

“What?” He meets your gaze, eyebrows dipped as if he hadn’t even noticed what he was doing. But he knew damn well. He knew. The slight tug at the right side of his lip gave him away instantly.

“Don’t act clueless.” You laugh, taking the final few steps toward him. In that small amount of time, Pedri’s eyes continuously flickered from your lips to your eyes, unable to figure out what he wanted to focus on.

Pedri pushes himself away from the counter, standing straight in front of you, “your lips,” he starts, eyes wondering down to them, causing your face to heat up. “You’re wearing your cherry chapstick.”

Your throat bobs in place, you never knew how he noticed those things. It’s not like the tint was that noticeable.

Humming, you subconsciously bring a finger to your lips, “I suppose I am.” Letting your hand drop to the side, you tilt your head, “and?”

“And they just look very, very kissable.” He says, “but! I can wait, what were you saying? Something about having to—“

You cut him off, standing on your tip toes, and placing a long kiss to Pedri’s soft lips. It’s slow and passionate, every ounce of love showcased within it.

It felt like this every time you kissed. Something in Pedri couldn’t help but delve every part of himself into you the second your lips molded together.

His arms wrap around your waist tightly, holding you to him like it was the last time he’d ever touch you. All his exhaustion and weariness dissolving in that sacred moment.

He was so full of love, so full of you, he hardly noticed your teasing smirk when you pulled away. His lips darting out to taste the leftover cherry flavor. “Happy now?” You chuckle, “because, I have a lot more to tell you.”

“Very.” He nods, arms loosening around your waist, but still holding you close to him. “First, let me get a snack, then i’ll join you on the couch?”

You clap your hands together eagerly, “sounds fantastic! I shall leave you to that!” And without another word, you wiggle yourself from his grasp and skip toward the living room.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl

Also so sorry sometimes I forget to tag you guys!! I’ll try to remember from here on out!

#pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri gonzalez x you #blurb #fluff #fanfic #pedri #fc barcelona #football #i need him so fucking bad

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 2 days

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I rewatched s1e5 last night, and the warning Ed's mama gives him as a child will always hit me right where it hurts, I think. It's so painfully realistic.

Every little brown kid out there has had this talk. The particulars are different, but the fundamentals are the same. You are going to have to move through the world differently than other kids, and it's not fair and it's not right, but it is how the world works, and if you try to rebel against it too much, you're going to wind up dead or worse.

Ed's mama, I think, was especially well-equipped to give Ed this talk in a way that she thought would keep him safe. She clearly works in service; she knows first hand how rich White folks will treat you if you're not only brown but also very poor. And I can't help but think that she probably knows the talk she needs to give Ed is especially important because she knows her son, she knows he's clever and ambitious and so fucking smart, she has to know just as well as him that he could run circles around the rich white boys he sees with their private tutors and futures laid out for them, if he only had half a chance. But he's not going to get that chance, she thinks, and she knows the first question out of this kid's mouth is going to be "why not?"

And the really interesting thing, I think, is that she's broken the rules when she gives him this talk. She's taken a little piece of finery home from the estate, and she's going to let Ed keep it. She's got to know full and damn well that even this little scrap of silk, this tiny thing that she's probably chosen because it won't be missed, could cost her her job if anyone found out about it. But she brought it home to Ed, and even as she tells him that he can't have things like this, she gives him this little piece of finery to keep, because if she's already taken it for him, maybe he won't be tempted to reach for more on his own. Maybe this will keep him safe.

The thing about this talk is it's absolutely necessary and it's always going to be internalized in a way that hurts. This talk is when your parents sit you down at home, and they tell you these horrible things straight-up in a place where you're safe, but the thing is they're going to have to be a bit harsh about it because you're a kid, and you need to get the point because you're not old enough for subtlety but you're old enough that a mistake could get you killed. So she tells Ed that he's not the kind of person who gets nice things, and he never will be, because if he tries to reach further than his lot, he's never going to be safe.

And that's how we get Ed, in his late forties and richer than you can shake a stick at, and he's still absolutely convinced that he cannot have nice things. He's still hiding that piece of silk in his jacket and tucking it away in a panic whenever he thinks anyone sees it. He blames himself for not being able to handle the party, not the boat full of racist assholes, because he's thinking he should've known better when he's had never will be bouncing around in his head since he was a baby. Is it any wonder that when someone tucks that silk into his pocket all nice, and tells him he's actually very sophisticated, like Ed finally has permission to have these things, that it turns his entire world upside down?

#ofmd #our flag means death

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peoniesnro · 1 day

Text

In Another Universe

#7. GOOD FUCKING BYE!

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe (duh)/ kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/SMUT- Making out/ Dirty talks/ Grinding/ Dry Humping/Cuming in Pants/ Oral (M.Receiving)/ Fingering/ Public sex (kind of)/ Word 'slut' and 'whore'/ Angst toward the end/ INFIDELITY

Word count- 16k (I'm not sorry anymore.)

a/n- So, this on took so long. But I hope it's worth the wait. I worked so hard on this one genuinely hope you'll enjoy. Thakyou so much for reading.

Taglist?

Chapter Index

Previous - Next

Cold beams of sunlight are seeping through the beige curtains of the cottage room. Creating dappled patterns on the wooden floor. Your cheek is pressed against Jimin’s chest. Eyes wearily staring at his laptop screen. This is a very stupid idea. Agreeing to stay awake another day. Especially, when you’re drunk. At this moment, you want nothing but to sleep the exhaustion away. You’ve drunk enough water to sober up. Since neither of you were hungry, decided you’ll wait till the morning. A good shower refreshed you. Yet you and Jimin are still slightly drunk.

When he asked you to stay. Asked you to pretend that this is normal and keep being insane. You’ve thought he was going to continue. Continue from where he stopped. Make you cum again and again. But the moment he just dragged you inside your room, he had insisted you to take a shower. Then he did the same. From that very moment this is what you’ve been doing. Watching some interesting and intriguing drama. But no matter how intriguing the drama is, you’re a little bit disappointed. No, you’re deeply disappointed.

Why? Why isn’t he doing anything?

True, he is holding you close. You’re entangled with each other. His hand is curled around your figure. Drawing mindless patterns in your forearm occasionally. Still, that is it. It’s quite weird to be honest. Everything is weird anyway. You should feel guilty. And you do. But the sensation of his warm body and the beating of his heart make that guilt wash away. There’s an elephant in the room. Too large to be ignored. Funny how you both keep ignoring it. You convince yourself that it’s okay. You agreed to pretend this is normal for a day anyway. The thing is, however, that you thought that normal would be fucking each other’s mind out. You hoped you two would be satiated and no longer will be drooling at each other. As much as how wrong it still is, you thought it would at least put an end to the mess.

Then, here you are. Oddly wrapped in one another’s embrace. How strange.

You jump when Jimin takes away his hand from your forearm and places it in your cheek. Even after being this way for few hours, his hands are still a little bit cold. He rubs your cheek affectionately.

“You’re not sleepy, are you?” Mumbles into your hair. You shake your head without raising it. “Are you too tired? Do you wanna sleep? We can sleep if you want to. You don’t have to stay awake if it’s too hard.” Asks again. Worry etched in his voice. Makes you snort. Your heart is swelling, nonetheless. Throughout your time watching this, you really didn’t watch the drama. You more of talked and talked about many things. So, you were not sleepy. That and the uncontrollable beating of your heart. Your body and mind were restless. Now, though, your heart is calming down. Your body is starting to relax.

“I’m fine Park.” You mutter into his cozy hoodie. Lazily. Stifling a yawn. Making Jimin’s chest rumble as he chuckles at that. He pauses the drama playing on the screen. You let out a noise of protest. Not that you really want to watch it, but the protagonist is about to uncover the truth. Jimin doesn’t give a fuck about it, however. Closes the device and puts it aside. Fumbles around, making you sit up straight. He follows, leaning against the headrest. You whine. There’s no ounce of strength left in you. You don’t even want to lift a finger. But then, he slips his hand under your thigh, pulls it over his lap. Manhandling you to straddle his lap. Suddenly, you’re not tired anymore. Your droopy eyes are all wide now. Heart is back to thumping madly, making your breath hitch. You gasp.

“Jimin.” Mumble as he settles you comfortably on his lap. Knees pressing onto the mattress from either side of him. You didn’t really bring any clothes. Everything you packed was Liya’s. Hence, you’re wearing Jimin’s clothes. Yet again. Sweats and a T-shirt. Cozy. Smells like him. Drive you insane. You’re a fucking pervert after all.

Jimin hums in answer as he nuzzles his nose against yours. Wraps his arms around your waist and brings you impossibly closer. Flushed against him. Places his chin on your shoulder.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Asks the same thing for the millionth time now. This time in your ear. Voice low. Doesn’t wait for your answer when he starts to press his lips onto your neck. It’s okay to let him know it feels good now. So, you moan. A breathless one. Pathetic. A single touch is enough to get your head spinning. You’re certain he knows that. Of course, he does. Knows exactly what he is doing when his kisses turn into little sucks and nibbles on your skin. Focusing on the spot that gets your toes curling.

Finally!

“Are you sure baby?” He starts rubbing your back, all the while keeping his lips on you. You whimper. Your own hands clinging on to him for your dear life. One on his shoulders and the other on the back of his neck.

“I’m okay Jimin…” You want to say more but he is making you rock your hips now. His hands slipping inside your T-shirt. Touching your bare back. His touches feel so good. Better when he drags his hands to your front. Starting to fondle with your breasts. Nipples are already hard and aching. He massages them softly, with both of his hands, occasionally circling the nipples with his thumbs. You pull away from his body a little bit. Only enough to face him and find his lips on yours. Feel a little bold now. Are eagerly rocking your hips, dragging your clothed cunt over his hardening length. Can feel it hardening against you. How good that feeling is. Jimin kisses you back eagerly. Instantly sneaking his tongue inside and lapping against yours. Turning the kiss into messy and sloppy. Heated. Working against you seamlessly.

You hate the layers of clothing you have. Want to feel everything. To think about it, you’ve came every time; he never has. He has seen everything of you. You haven’t. You think that’s beyond being unfair. You pull away, tugging at his hoodie.

“Take it off, please. Wanna see you.” Plead against his mouth. Jimin let’s out a dark chuckle.

“Gosh, I love how you’re so whiny when you’re turned on baby.” His voice is so dark and teasing. Gives you goosebumps all over your skin. It’s fine if he loves it since you love how he gets you so pliant with a single touch. Jimin complies with your plead. Pulls his hoodie over his head in one swift motion. You’ve seen him shirtless before. Yet, the moment his bare chest and abs are revealed, your breath catches in your throat again. Forcing you to press your already soaked pussy hard on his shaft. You both moan at that. Jimin chuckles through his moan. Throws the piece of clothing away, eyes watching you. Amused. Glinting. Your eyes roam over his honey skin. Have no idea what you should do first. He makes the decision for you. Grabs your wrist.

“Touch me baby.” Presses your hand, palm flat against his chest. You’re thrilled to see his breath hitches and muscles tighten under your touch. He drags your palm down, through the expanses of his chest, making you feel every inch of his skin. Toward his defined abs. Makes you touch him properly. Drags your palm down and down, forcing you to adjust your hips to make room. And then he is pressing your palm on his hardened member. Through his sweats but still you can clearly feel the way he twitched, when your hand grazed over. A strangled grunt escapes his throat as he bucks his hips into your hands. And you lose your mind. Literally. Lose it again when he makes your hand rubs over his pulsing dick.

“Feel it baby?” Jimin mutters, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. You nod, taking matters into your hand and start palming his length. Squeezing. Tracing your fingers over. Trying to figure out how big he is by just touching. Taking in the outline of his bulge. Jimin lets you do whatever you want. Just leans against the headrest and watches the way you massage his cock. Play with his cock. Biting back moans and grunts. Until his patience snaps. Making you disappointed when he swats your hand away. You grumble, which turns into a moan as he drags your clothed pussy to replace your hands on his member.

“That’s so mean. You slapped my hand.” You manage to say, pouting. He kisses that pout away.

“Sorry, but I would’ve cum if you kept doing that.” He chuckles breathlessly. Softly pecking your lips in between and making you roll your hips again. You suck in a breath at his words. Stifling a moan.

“Should’ve done that then.”

“Yeah? That would be so fucking embarrassing.” He pulls you in for another kiss. Your hips continue rolling over his.

“No…. That would be so fucking hot. B... besides... it’s n-not fair, you made me cum in my pants.” You’re losing your patience as well. Are getting needy. You want more now. The friction your sodden panties are creating against your folds are not enough. That’s why you try to press even harder each time you drag your hips back and forth.

“Fuck, Lil!” Jimin is helping you the best way he can. Controlling your movements and pressing you down hard. “So, w-what? You want me to cum in pants a-as a revenge?” Asks. Oh, you love how he is stuttering a little bit. Breathless. That’s not what you want, however. Still, when he says that with dark eyes and heavy lids, it looks like a good idea. Makes you aroused even more, if it’s possible.

“N-no, I want it b-because it’s hot.” You don’t realize you’ve picked up your speed. Both of you are breathless messes now. Humping each other like horny rabbits. Jimin laughs and then nods. Agreeing with you.

“Go on then baby. Make me cum.” Starts kissing you again like his lifeline is you. His plump lips land everywhere he can reach. Your lips. Neck. Jaw. Throat. Ears. And you reward him by keep grinding. Until you can’t take it anymore. Until your desire is uncontrollable. You start whining in his ear. Begging him to take your clothes off. Jimin instantly relents. Your top goes first, then your pants. But when you try to do the same thing with your panties, he stops you.

“Keep it.” He drags you back onto his lap. You hum in confusion when he guides you back into your rhythm. He hasn’t taken off his sweats either. Humiliating since you’re the only one who got bared into your ruined panties. He doesn’t answer you. Gives you a menace look instead. You like it. Like it a little too much since you’re into whining and pleading within no time.

“Take your sweats off Jimin.” You pull your best puppy eyes. His self-control is maddening, you hate it. He doesn’t relent this time. Asks something about you wanting him to cum in his pants. You regret saying it ever. “Oh, c’mon… please. Keep your boxers. It’s the same thing.” So, you bargain.

“Yeah? You’re that desperate?” He mocks. You nod. Pathetic.

“Ask for it nicely baby. Beg.” Says again while slightly touching your clit. It’s terrifying how he makes you do whatever he wants. Freaking terrifying how you do as he says without a single thought. Where’s your pride? See, these are the consequences of refraining from satisfying your primal needs. You’re now thinking with your cunt. Only focused on chasing that breathtaking high. So, you beg again and again when he ask you to do so. Like a good little slut. That little voice inside you, which reminds you that what you’re doing is wrong is no longer there. You’ve surrendered to sin completely.

“That’s a good girl. Let me baby.” He finally listens to you. You raise your hip, allowing him to push his sweats down his thighs. Not completely, just enough to reveal his boxers because you’re so impatient. You don’t let him take it off completely as you place your cunt over his boxers in light speed. He gasps at that. “Woah... fuck. Fuck, you’re so greedy.” Says in a shaky voice. Whimpers when you start grinding again. This feels better. Better when you can finally feel his dick part your folds. Even with your panties and his boxers it feels heavenly. You can feel him twitching beneath you. Can feel the warmth against your soaked cunt. But then like he said you’re so greedy. You always want more. That’s how you are back to begging. Asking for more.

“Jesus Lil. Thought you want to make me cum in my pants.” Jimin grunts, pushing his hips upward. Aiding you with your relentless humping. He is impressive. Really impressive to have such a self-control. Get you bit worried about your abilities when he hasn’t already fucked you in hundred different positions. Make you insecure. That’s not the case though. You know he is affected. Very much so. His face is flushed, pupils dilated, eyes still very hooded. Breathing is ragged. Panting heavily and can’t stop entangling his lips with yours for a second. His fingers are digging into your thighs so harshly that they’ll definitely leave marks. On top of everything, he is rock hard beneath you. Dick throbbing but still he has his control.

“Please hm? Jimin please…” You try again. He swears. Accidentally bite your lip harsh, the steady rhythm stumbling. See, he is a goner. Yet doesn’t play it in your way. For much of your dismay. You are about to complain and call him a mean gremlin when he suddenly hooks a finger inside your panties. Steals your breath away that you’re certain you’re dead when he harshly pushes it aside. Your wet folds directly contact with the cotton material of his boxers. You both moan in content. The friction is harsh on your sensitive clit, but you can’t complain. Being so close to the edge. Every pleasurable drag over his throbbing bulge taking you toward your edge.

You watch in awe, as Jimin’s lower abdomen tenses. At the dark wet spot you’re forming on his underwear, together with him. He is watching too. Taking in how you madly rub your pussy on his hardness. The way you’re moaning and whimpering. The way your breasts bounce. Keeps his finger hooked inside your panties to hold it away from your way.

“I’m ruining your boxers. It’s so messy.” You mumble against his lips in a quiet whimper. He groans.

“Fuck baby… It’s better when it’s messy. I love seeing you lose control, Lil. Keep making a mess baby hm? God, I need you to keep making a fucking mess for me.” He replies breathlessly. Kisses you one time more before dipping down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Sucks harsh and that is the last stroke for you. His name leaves your mouth over and over again as your grip on him tightens. Your thighs shaking. Closing your eyes tight as the intense pleasure explodes over you. Your orgasm hits hard. Jimin moans with you, popping your nipple from his mouth to peer at your pleasure wrecked, fucked up face. Kisses you madly.

“Lil… baby, don’t stop, keep going. I’m so fucking close. Keep going for me, don’t slow down.”

Oh, he is finally losing control. Not the way you are but you’ll take it. His words make you aroused all over again despite the hard orgasm that washed over you just now. The pleasure still lingers but it’s becoming overwhelming. Yet you’re not going to stop. Of course, you’re not. How could you when Park Jimin looks like he is floating on cloud nine. When he’s letting out breathless moans. All because of you. You’re unable to stop. So, you keep going and it doesn’t take much either. He follows you quite closely, hips jerking upward and faltering. Steady you on his lap. Presses his dick hard on your sensitive cunt. Grits his teeth.

“Fuck. Fuck Lil. Goddamn it, just like that. Shit, yes.” Curses as he lets go of your panties, making you slowly rock your hips again. Using you to ride through his high. The wet spot on his boxers expanding with his cum. Oh, how hot that is. Makes you moan again. He chuckles at that, finally stops rocking you on him. Your cunt is still on fire, and you love the wet feeling. His breathless chuckle, however, makes you embarrassed. So, you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Turning his chuckle into a quite laughter. Jimin wraps his hands around your half naked figure, bringing you impossibly close to him again. Rubbing your back gently.

“Was it hot?” Asks softly, voice still breathless and trying to calm down. You nod into his neck. “So fucking hot, Park.” Assure him through your shaky breath. He laughs again. Making you both shake.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen but…”

“But...?”

“It would’ve been better to see you, you know. Like see you, see you.” You hide your face in his neck even more. You’re still high from your orgasm that you’re rambling. Embarrassing, nonetheless. To say something like that aloud. You think he might mock you. For being extremely needy. He doesn’t. Instead, squeezes you in his hold, peppering kisses on your naked shoulder.

“Fucking hell, Spring Roll. You’re so damn hot. Did I say that before? Christ, you drive me wild.” He pulls you from your shoulders, demanding you to look at him. Not quite away from him, still keeps your mouth grazing over his. It’s your time to laugh. Roll your eyes, dismissing his compliment despite the butterflies on your stomach. Dangerous. “I’m serious. Love it when you’re needy. And I really, really want to do as you say now, but knowing Taehyung…. I’ll give you five more minutes before he barge in here.” He smirks. Molds the flesh in your ass cheeks. Slaps them slightly. Your breath is hitching again.

“So, unless you want him to see you like this- I mean if you do, we can con─” You interrupt him by hitting his chest. Causing him to grin again. Already moving away from his lap. “No thanks please.” You mutter as you reach for your discarded T-shirt. Jimin watches you for a minute before suddenly grabbing from your ankle. You stop fumbling with the piece of clothing, turning around. Surprised. The position is awkward as he yanks you to him by your leg. Bends down slightly and his hand is reaching between your thighs. For a moment, you expect him to touch your pussy again when he grazes his fingers inside your inner thigh.

“What?” You question, confused.

“You never told me how you got this.” He shifts his gaze from your thigh to your face. That’s when you notice he is touching your scar. The scar that proved to him you’re not Liya that fated day. The sudden memory of it and Liya makes you awfully uncomfortable. Your excitingly beating heart sinks. And you don’t want to act like it’s okay to get to know each other. This, the thing you’re doing. It’s just for a day. After this day, you need to stop this and do the right thing. That’s the plan and it doesn't include anything about getting close in this kind of way. Jimin curiously inspects your face for a moment. Then probably sensing that you’re not comfortable retrieves his hand fast. A pang hits your chest. Before your brain can process what’s happening, you grab from his hand. Not letting him pull away. Smile softy at him when you answer.

“I got it while riding a seesaw. Uh… it was already broken but I rode it anyway and it cut my thigh. Stupid me.” You watch the way he watches you. That warmth in his eyes are no longer there. Smile wiped off.

Oh, fuck.

See, now, no matter how heavy it feels to remember that what you’re doing is wrong. No matter how messed up this is. You still don’t want to ruin the day. The day hasn’t even started yet. You agreed to have a day. Agreed to pretend it’s normal. And you want that, want this day to be perfect without any heavy feelings. You sigh heavily. Pulls his hand to place it where it was, on your thigh. Leans forward and catch his lips with yours. Catching him off guard. Kisses him tenderly. You’ll have day. Everything’s going to be fine after.

“Any more questions Park?” Grin into his lips. He leaves a sigh as well. You don’t know what’s going on in his head but, are glad when he grins back. Is about to ask something certainly, when a loud thud on your door makes you both wince.

“Rise and shine babies… Stop fucking and get the fuck Out...” Taehyung’s voice echoes through the wooden barrier. Followed by another knock and low curses. “Fuck my head hurts.”

You and Jimin snort at the same time.

……………………………………

Jimin glances at you from the corner of his eyes while adding radish to the simmering broth. A grin spreads across his face to see your focus on what he is doing. Legs dangling over the counter. You sway them back and forth, toes curled inside your socks. Mouth agape as you peer over at the pot. Oh, how adorable you are. And are very distracting that he can’t help but to reach you and smooch your lips now and then. Squeeze your cheeks and laugh when you click your tongue in annoyance.

“Stay focus Park.” You mutter irritably. Yet throw your hands around his neck when he stands between your legs. He knows this is not normal. Knows it’s very wrong. Knows why you suddenly looked uneasy earlier. Still, he can’t help it. He deserves a day, doesn’t he? It’s all for a day. So, he nuzzles your nose with his. “You’re too fucking distractive, Spring Roll.” Passes the blame to you. You gasp, pushing him away. Ignore his protests when you slide out of the counter.

“No. No. Don’t leave.” Jimin catches you in his grasp before you can move away though. Your contagious laughter fills the room. He never knew that just fooling around with someone can be this rewarding. How relaxed he feels right now. How content he feels to see you giggle. Especially, when he starts to tickle your sides. You thrash in hold for moment before saying you won’t leave. Admitting defeat. He slowly loosens his grip, ready to catch you if you try to run. You don’t. Snort at his skepticism but still sit back on a stool. Trying to regain your composure. He likes it better if you can sit back where you were before. But he’ll have to be happy with this. Now it’s less distracting since you’re sitting behind him.

It's your idea to make hangover soup. It’s a given that all his friends or enemies in that case, are going to feel killer hangovers, after last night’s heavy drinking. Jimin himself is having a headache but it’s bearable. Bearable after you really made him cum in his pants. Bearable when he can hear those pretty giggles of yours. Still, you and he’ll need ways to sober up other than sleeping. There’s a day to pass after all. He could have easily made the soup for just you two, but he is feeling a little bit generous. Hence, this commotion in the kitchen. You and he are the only people who are awake despite Taehyung. Who currently is in a bathroom, throwing his guts out. Serves right for interrupting you earlier.

It takes him no more than another fifteen minutes to get the soup done. Takes the hot stockpot into the kitchen island. Feeling giddy at the sight of you excited. It’s still you two. Jimin has a strong suspicion that Taehyung went back to sleep. Maybe, he decided to spend the rest of his life inside a bathroom. Whatever that is, Jimin is happy it’s just you and him.

You hum in delight at the first taste, head whipping toward him. Eyes adorably wide. Beautifully glinting. The starry fucking night. With secrets. He doesn’t know why he wants to unravel them. Just like he wanted to know how you got that scar.

“Is it good?” Asks instead. You nod furiously. “You’re a God damn good cook Park. Jesus, marry me please.” You say noncommittally as you go back to enjoy your soup. Jimin is gaping at you, however. Knows it’s a joke but here comes those unsettling feelings. Has to shake his head visibly to shake them off, glad you don’t notice. Too immerse in your food. You hum again and then moan. Look back at him with appreciation, when he forces himself to smile.

“I’m good at everything.” says with a shrug. Is trying to lift the heaviness in his own heart. You scoff.

“I really want to disagree─” You gulp down a spoonful of stock before continuing. In a clueless and happy mood. “But...” Smiles at him. “Maybe you are. I mean you own a fucking business. A CEO. Can cook.” Put down your fingers as to state. Gasp. “Even sing. Can you dance too? Don’t tell me you can. That make me feel so useless and talentless.” Mutter that when Jimin snorts. That unsettling feeling leaves his chest. He is about to say that he is very sorry to tell you that he loves dancing when you don’t let him.

“But seriously Park, how did you do that? I mean the business. I need motivation to finish my degree. Tell me how you did that, the inspirational TED talk.” You shift in your stool, adjusting yourself to face him properly. Jimin hates this. Not that he doesn’t want to tell you. Of course, not. The thing is he can’t tell his story without mentioning one person. He doesn’t want to think about his girlfriend right now. Not when he is cheating on her. Not when he is so fucking selfish not to care what might be happening to her at this moment. On top of all, he doesn’t want you two to be in a sour mood. He likes this. All these moments with you. Loves it and doesn’t want to ruin it. What a selfish prick he is.

Just one day. Just one.

He smiles, trying to act normally. “Ah that’s nothing. I’m not doing it alone, you know? I have those three with me. And what’s TED talk?” Shrugs your request off. You’re not to let it go that easily though. Stubborn. Annoying. Cute. Pretty. Steals his breath when you lean toward his face.

“Oh, c’mon Park. Don’t be like that. We both know you’re not someone to be humble. You’ve a very arrogant ass. This is your chance to brag. So, take it Mister.” You blow breath to his face. Fucking tease. He wants to kiss you again, but you pull away fast. Attention back on your food. “Besides, you have a fancy ass apartment, a freaking expensive car and you guys come to places like this for your vacations. Don’t tell me it’s nothing.” Add that.

Yes, everything you say is true. Only he doesn’t want to say that his apartment is not just his. Liya’s name is on the contract. No, he won’t say her name aloud. He needs to distract you. Needs a distraction for himself as well. Good thing he knows exactly how to do that. You let out a surprised gasp when Jimin reaches for your cheeks. Cups them and squeezes. Making your lips pucker. He ignores your whines of complaint as he places a kiss on your lip. “I don’t have an arrogant ass lady.” Mumbles. Keeps pecking your lips yet stops squeezing your cheeks. Just like he knew, you’re getting distracted. Start kissing him without any reluctance. Well, now Jimin is no longer trying to distract you. Instead, he is the one who is getting distracted. There’s something about you that drives him freaking nuts. Can’t control himself at all. Just a goner. No use in attempting to resist you. He gives in to you willingly, grabbing your forearm to pull you to him. Making you sit on his lap while never letting you stop kissing him. Tongues dancing in sync. Lips wet and getting messy.

Fuck, he can’t get enough either. His dick goes hard instantly, head spinning. Your mouth just slots against him perfectly. That makes him wonder what else would fit that flawlessly with you. Even the thought is making his dick twitch. He intended to do just that this morning. To bury himself to the hilt inside you. Only if his best friend isn’t a pain in the ass. He didn’t take you right on this same countertop yesterday, only because he thought it would be too tiring for you. All the drinks, preparations, dancing, singing might be taking a toll on you. Didn’t want to tire you more even before the day started. Now though, when he knows you’ll be more than willing to take him, he is slowly starting to forget his surroundings.

You are addictive simply. Even though he hasn’t taken you completely yet. The way you kiss him. The desperation in it. Your sweet moans. Your scent. The way you gasp when he kisses your neck and throat. The way you say his name when his hand cups your breast over your T-shirt. He hates that you’re wearing a bra. Not that it’ll stop him. He has a mission, which is to keep eliciting those sweet sounds from you. Pleasuring you is his biggest turn-on. How odd. This is a first. So, he latches his lips over your nipple. Through your lacy bra and your T-shirt. Wets the spot with his saliva, watching your face. You’re becoming a mess quickly. Oh, he is absolutely going to fuck you right here. How beautiful you look.

“Goddammit Lil.” He only pulls away to let you know he is equally affected. Wants you to feel sexy. To know how hard you make him. Then he is back at sucking on your nipple. Biting. Kissing. And is at the verge of bending you over the counter when─

“Yah! For fucking seriously? Are you two on some kind of pill or something? Why are you ravishing on each other like there’s no tomorrow all the time?” Jimin withdraws from you in light speed at Seokjin’s voice.

For fucks sake!

Annoyance bubbles inside Jimin as he sees his older friend standing in the doorway. It pops out instantly, however, when your mortified squeak reaches his ears. You hide your face on his neck and the wet spot on your breasts in his chest. This is embarrassing really. Yet, the best thing to do when caught is to act like it’s nothing. Less embarrassing that way. Jimin clears his throat, holding you close.

“What? It’s not my fault that you don’t get your dick wet.” Answers as casually as he can. Seokjin is obviously about to counter back when his chance is stolen.

“Oh, he definitely got his dick wet yesterday.” The thief who stole Seokjin’s chance reveals themselves to be J, as she enters the kitchen. Shoulders tilting. Jimin’s jaw drops to the floor at the same time Seokjin goes red. Even you pull away from his neck to look at Jin with your mouth agape.

“What?” You and Jimin question at the same time. Get ignored.

“For the sake of fuck J, don’t you know anything about the damn privacy and secrecy.” Jin walks to J, who is now peering at the soup.

“Well, what? It’s not like I told them what we did exactly. Don’t tell me you’re the type to be wanting to fuck a young ripe bad bitch and then keeping it a secret because you’re fucking ashamed.” J says that so quickly that Jimin almost misses it. His Hyung looks taken aback.

“Who said anything about being ashamed. It’s just that─” Jin searches for the right word. Jimin pities him. Poor man. “It’s just that, it’s embarrassing to let Jimin know about my sexual escapades.” Points at Jimin. Jimin gapes at Jin with disbelief.

“Why the fuck not?” Asks. J and you agree with him by chanting ‘exactly’. Jin looks bewildered.

“What do you think Jimin. It’s like sharing it with my mother.” Jin states. Takes a seat across from Jimin.

“That’s not so bad, I share them with my mother all the time.” J replies. Sits beside Jimin. Now everyone is gaping at her with wide eyes. Jimin thinks it’s cute how you’ve forgotten to cover the wet spot on your chest.

“That’s super weird, J. I mean, it is, right? You don’t do that right?” You mutter in disbelief. Looking back and forth between Jimin and Jin. “Of course not.” Jimin cringes at the prospect. J is weird. Everybody is weird. Especially, his friend. Never in a million years Jimin would’ve thought Kim fucking Seokjin will be interested at someone like J. Not that there’s anything wrong with her. Simply she is the polar opposite of Seokjin. But then things happens. Just like how he is keeping you on his lap. Close to him. He and you are the weirdest.

…………………………………………………….

“You want to know how to become a potato?” Jungkook asks you as all of you are slowly walking through the snow-covered pavements of a seemingly abandoned city. There isn’t even a stray cat on the roads. Apparently, this is the plan for the day. Eating at a famous yet rural restaurant, which is supposed to be somewhere around. After parking your vehicles, Hoseok suggested walking to the restaurant but without any success yet. You’ve been strolling through these streets for over an hour now. There are suspicions arousing from the group. Suspicions of being lost. But it’s still fun. Doesn’t feel like you’ve walked for such a long time when you’ve been laughing so hard. And enjoying this to the fullest.

You nod in answer for Jungkook’s question, enthusiastically, before Jimin rudely butts in. “Why the fuck would you want to become a potato?” Walking behind you, with Taehyung who is currently trying to walk with his eyes closed. Jimin isn’t the happiest of your walking arrangements but wasn’t given another option. Taehyung is clinging to him.

“Why not? That’s fun. I’d become a rock if I could. Easy life.” Yoongi joins from the other side of you. You’re walking between him and Jungkook.

“Rock is acceptable, but a potato? Potatoes get eaten by, kids. Unacceptable.” Seokjin gives his opinion. Is walking with, now not so surprisingly with J. In front of you. Yoona and Namjoon being the people in front of them. Hoseok and Seoyeon on the lead. You blinks at Seokjin’s face when he partially turns his head to look at you. Good point. You turn to Jungkook. Gape at his face, waiting for a counterpoint. He doesn’t give that.

“I didn’t think about that actually.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth. Then zones out. Probably thinking about being a potato and not getting eaten by.

“That’s a shame.” You mumble. Jimin snorts. Says how he still can’t comprehend why you want to become a potato. Yoongi starts listing million reasons as to why it’s a good idea when you abruptly bumps into Jin’s hard back. Jungkook bumping into J. Jimin into you. Taehyung into Jungkook. Apparently, the same thing has happened to Jin and J as well. They are balancing on their feet after the hard collision with Namjoon and Yoona. Cursing.

“What the fuck?” Jimin bellows, as his hands grab you. Saving you from falling down. Taehyung whines next to him. Accepting his fate and just leaning against Jungkook. Jin yells at a very innocent Namjoon making him point at Hoseok with an open mouth.

“It’s him. He stopped out of nowhere.” Namjoon looks like an overgrown bunny when he does that. Reasonable why Yoona is always giving him heart eyes.

“Would you mind giving us a warning next time Hobi? I really can’t handle having my head shaken so many times.” Taehyung finally leans away from Jungkook’s hard body. Hoseok, however, is not paying any attention. Is having a heated conversation with Seoyeon.

“We are not lost. I know where we’re going.” He mutters while turning a full circle around. Eyes glued to his phone screen.

“We passed this stupid shop for three times already Jung Hoseok.” Seoyeon seethes, pointing at the floral shop to your right. All of you look at it. You squint your eyes. Now when you think about it, you’re pretty sure that you did just that. Passed it a couple of times before. And it’s confirmed when Yoona says the same.

“Oh, yeah. I remember this one too. Are you serious Hobi? You promised me the best Samgyetang and dragged us here. I didn’t even taste the hangover soup because I wanted to save space for this one.” She whines. Gives up and falls into her boyfriend’s arms. Namjoon holds her. Pets her hair. Dramatic but sweet. “Your loss.” Jimin says, hands still holding you. Sounds a bit offended. He works hard for that soup after all. Yet, Yoona is the only idiot who didn’t try it. Her loss, indeed.

“We’re not lost at all guys. We. Are. Not. I completely trust technology.” Hoseok points at his phone before starting to turn left and right. Looks extremely comical.

“You shouldn’t sometimes though.” J voices. Very subtly but obviously letting Jin wraps his hands around her. You have to bite back the amused grin that threatens to break on your face. After all, it’s just you and Jimin who know that they are hooking up. That’s what they told you at least. You wonder how and why nobody questions them being so close. Hoseok interrupts your observations. A triumphant noise leaving his mouth. Gestures to his left.

“It’s this way everyone. I think I missed it before.” Looks elated. As if he just solves the mystery of dark matter. Already started towards the side street. Is very empty, similar to the one you’ve been rounding for all these times. Strikes as a danger to you.

“Uh… are you sure Hobi? Looks shady to me.” You express your concerns, but Hoseok doesn’t even look at you. If you haven’t mistaken, Hoseok acts like he has a problem with you. Like you’ve done something unforgivable to him. For the day, you spent with these people, Hoseok hasn’t shared more than ten words with you. Even the shared ten words are concerning the important matters. Nothing personal. Nothing friendly. Everyone starts to follow him with several protests.

“Oh good. This is how we’ll die. Should’ve made this a vlog. My last ever vlog.” Yoongi exasperates. Jungkook says something about being able to drop out of college if he dies. Is thinking very positively. You turn your head slightly to Jimin before he lets you go.

“Is Hoseok mad at me?” That’s a very genuine concern. Maybe, he has a problem with Liya. Who knows. You just want to know so you’ll not make a fool out of yourself by trying to make small friendly talk with him. Just to get rudely ignored. Just like now. Jimin’s eyes soften as you look at him curiously. Shakes his head. “Don’t mind him.” Says before letting you go. You want to disagree. Say that you need to know if there’s an issue, but Jungkook has yanked you to his side the moment you’re out of Jimin’s grasp.

…………………………………………….

You ended up in a forest. A freaking forest. Seoyeon nearly ripped Hoseok’s head off. Taehyung had to physically restrain his girlfriend from murdering one of his best friends. That made his headache worse. In the end, Jimin and Jungkook had to drag Taehyung back. It was an endless trail of complaints. Jimin swore in his life that he’ll never let Taehyung drink again. You all know that’s a lie. By the time you finally arrived at Hoseok’s very famous Samgyetang restaurant. After wandering over for another hour or so. Jimin and Jungkook are practically panting and sweating like two pigs.

“Gosh, why am I friends with you again.” Jimin breathes out, slumping against the wall. Stretching out his feet under the table where you all are sitting on the heated floor. Jungkook is pressing his flushed face on the cold table. Taehyung who has happened to sit between Jimin and you, chose to budge you by leaning against your figure. You decide to put up with that. No longer in a position to judge him. If anything, you and he are on the same boat. So is Jimin. All three of you are shameless cheaters. Sinners. So much for thinking, you’ll never be able to carry the weight of guilt. Now look at where you are. Enjoying someone else’s life to the fullest. Having the best of best orgasms in your life with that person’s five years of boyfriend. There’s a guilty consciousness, yes. But not enough to prevent you from seeking more. Absolutely shameless. Even now, you want to sit next to Jimin.

You take a long look at him. He catches that. Smiles softly at you before Hoseok interrupts you by reaching the table. Despite him vowing this place to be quite popular, only people here are your party. No other patrons. Empty. And funnily enough, Hoseok acts like he knows this place. When you inquire from Yoongi, if Hoseok has been here before, he assures you that he hasn’t. Just his cousin been a weirdo. Hoseok sits right across from you. His smile is so wide that it could light up the entire neighborhood.

“Food will be here in a minute.” He lets all of you know.

“And are you sure we’ll live after eating that?” Yoongi questions next to him. Hoseok gives him a look. “What? You said this place is popular. I can’t see anyone here. And the entire neighborhood looks shady man. What if these people are serial killers? What if they are feeding us their previous victims?” Yoongi keeps questioning with wide eyes. Several people let out whines of complaints at the last part.

“Shut the fuck up Yoongi.” Namjoon throws his beanie at him. Yoona practically cries. Says she is starving to death, and she’ll eat whatever they give her. Another series of whines rise up. Very fair. Yoongi is running your lunch. It’s not just Yoona now. You’re starving to death as well. And the last thing you want is to think that you’ve entered a horror movie and are about to become cannibals. The whines quickly turns out into an argument. Requests to keep their mouths shut and the possibilities of all of you dying throwing here and there. And the ways you would die becomes the main topic. For one thing, Hoseok looks bit uncertain after Yoongi’s suspicions. Practically smacks Yoongi across his head when he yet again explains the way they would keep their victims alive to kill at the right moment. Funny how you and him in unison ask Yoongi to keep it close. He doesn’t.

And you think it’s ridiculous how all of you ended up staring at your Samgyetang bowls with furrowed brows, after the food arrived.

“C’mon this is ridiculous guys.” J exclaims aloud. Pokes the chicken with her chopsticks. “It’s obviously a chicken.” Adds that part. Takes a look around all of your faces.

“What if they make the─” Yoongi opens his mouth.

“Oh my god! Will you stop you little piece of shit.” Hoseok bangs his fist on the table. The dishes clatter.

“Fuck you, Yoonigi!.” You agree. Hoseok meets your eye for a minute but looks away immediately.

“Guess what? I don’t give a fuck. I’m eating.” Yoona disrupts Hoseok’s tantrum. Waits for another moment and staying true to her word digs right in. The rest of you watch her eating. In pure disbelief. Jimin is the next to follow her.

“Fuck this.” Says before stuffing his face. And then one by one you all follow. It tastes like chicken gladly.

…………………………………………………….

The people- who were nice and obviously not serial killers- at the Samgyetang place let you know that the place is popular through the entire year but near the New Year’s Eve it’s not. That’s how it works apparently, without any specific reason. And the abandoned and shady city turned out to be pretty inhabited. It’s just that they prefer to stay inside. Unlike you guys who are now raiding a convenience store, where there is not much available to buy.

“Fuck I need Almonds.” Taehyung exclaims. Searching through the three shelves in this store for the fifth time now. You and Jimin following him.

“You’re not going to find Almond just because you keep searching Tae. There’s no Almond here.” Jimin picks up a pack of snacks. Hands it to you. You take it.

“Why would you need Almond?” You ask from Taehyung. “It helps me with my headaches.” He answers. Appear to be better than how he was an hour ago. “Oh! Maybe you should take some pain killers.” You suggest, watching Taehyung shakes his head. “Already did that. Not going to work.” Pouts hard. Jimin sighs next to you.

“Why did you drink that much you idiot?” Grabs by the back of Taehyung’s neck. In an affectionate way.

“Aahh... tell me about it Jimin-ah, tell me about it.” Taehyung looks heavenward. Something common for two best friends. You almost chuckle at that when Jin’s voice echoes through the small store.

“Taehyung!” You all snap your heads to where his voice booms. Taeyhung perking up instantly, leaving you and Jimin in light speed. Mumbles ‘Almond’ as he goes. And you finally chuckle, shaking your head. Turn back to Jimin. A soft smile ghost on your lips which he reciprocates.

“Are you tired?” Questions. To be completely honest, you are. But nothing unbearable yet. It’s not just you after all, Jimin hasn’t slept a wink last night either. You just know it’ll be harder with every hour passing by. For now, though, you can manage. So, you shake your head to let him know you’re not tired.

“Are you?” Ask the same thing from him. He says he’s fine. But then you change your mind. Just as an afterthought. Decide it’s better if you can rest your legs. No need to waste your energy wandering around a convenience store. Have no idea what your friends are doing. They don’t buy anything, nor do they want to leave. When you voice your need aloud, Jimin grabs your hand. “Want to go outside? Saw benches there.” Suggests to which you agree with a beat of your heart. He pays for your snack and in a minute, you’re munching on it. Sitting on a said bench beside the store.

It's peacefully silent for a moment before Jimin breaks it. “You ever been in a relationship?” Inquires suddenly. You slowly turn your head to him. Stop swaying your legs. He is asking you for another one. Just like this morning. You still don’t like it. One by one curious question, you are becoming closer and closer. It would’ve been just fine if you and he could keep your hands away from each other. Something normal a pair of friends would do. Now, though, when you had come on his tongue, made him come on his god damn pants, this is not fine. He is looking at you expectantly, however. You try to find a rough answer. Or a way to take his mind away from it.

“Couple of times, yeah.” You vaguely reply. Hoping he would let it go.

“What do you mean couple of times.” He chuckles. Awful. This is. That he wants to know you. Why would he want that. Then didn’t you want the same.

“Well, I had a boyfriend when I was in high school and then during my freshman year.”

“That’s just two times. Was any of that serious or just casual?” There’s an irritation in his voice. As if he is jealous. Ridiculous of you to think that. You want to change the subject. Want to talk about something that doesn’t involve becoming two people who are nothing more than a causal fuck.

“Does that matter Park?” You try to laugh. Just to add some lightness to your question. He shrugs. A scowl on his face. “What? I’m just curious.” States. You think you can change the course.

“Yeah? About what?” Gasp. “Do you want to know if my ex was able to make me cum on my pants? Like you did?” Well, that’s a stupid way to do that. Yet, he scoffs and turns to you with pure disbelief. “No… not at all but, c’mon you know he wasn’t.” Answers very smugly. It’s true though. But you’ll not let him know. Just prefer to have a conversation about coming in twelve different ways than him prying into your life. You scoff as well.

“Don’t be so sure Park. Maybe… he didn’t do that buut... maybe he did make me cum so hard I forgot my name.” You smirk. Followed by a raise of your brow. Jimin looks utterly offended. Gasps loudly.

“Are you underestimating my abilities? Are you saying I didn’t make you forget your own name?” Points an accusatory finger at you.

“Yes.” You say without a beat. Again, a lie.

“Wanna bet?”

“About what?”

He doesn’t answer that. Instead, snatches the packet of snacks away from you. You’re about to call him all the insulting names when he shut you up with a kiss. Open mouthed. Tongue very much involved. Leaves you heaving for breath when he pulls away. Only to make a demand against your lips.

“On my lap Lil. C’mon.” Straightens up to make space for you. You blink at his face. What is he about to do? Don’t move a finger until he grabs your wrist and yanks you to him. “C’mon baby.” Says again. So, you comply. Still very confused but intrigued the same. Excited. First, you think he wants you to straddle him and is about make you grind on him again. Are mortified considering you’re in public. In broad daylight. He doesn’t, however. Makes you just sit on his lap, back pressed against his chest. Gets you comfortable, his cheek is pressing onto yours. Places a couple kisses on your neck before sucking on your pulse point.

“Wh-what are you d…doing Jimin?” You’re very pathetically already breathless. All it takes is a kiss. He just hums, which doesn’t make any sense to you. Then his hands are travelling south on your body. Annoyingly, both of you are wearing layers of clothing. Hence, the lack of sensation when his hands moves over your breasts. Still, it’s enough to make a low moan escape from your chest. Which quickly turns into a panicked gasping, when Jimin’s hands doesn’t stop but start undoing your pant buttons. Your hands reach to grab from his wrists. Preventing him.

“Jimin, Jimin... Wha- what are you... Jimin?” You nearly yank his hands away when he places another kiss. This time on your temple. “Relax baby. I’ll stop if someone walks in, okay? I promise.” His voice is back to being low and husky. Is murmuring in your ear. Gets your cunt clenching. Arousal seeping through. The thought that he is about to do this here, on the outside, with the possible risks gets you turned on to no end. This is a first time for you, have never done something like this before. Are very excited, nonetheless. Slowly becoming impatient.

“Okay Lil?” Jimin asks again. Despite the fact that you’ve loosened your grip on his wrists, without even realizing, he hasn’t moved an inch forward. Gives you a reassuring squeeze. You’re already aroused. “Baby?” Mumbles again. Oh, you trust him, don’t you? Well, you do very much. Your head is bobbing up and down fast. Giving your consent.

“Say it.” Jimin teasingly pushes his hand past your waist band.

“O- okay. I mean… do it.” You succumb. Which is all what it takes. Jimin’s hand slips past your pants and inside your panties in a record time. Finds your clit first. Just rubs soothing circles before goes down to your clenching hole. Gathers your wetness and spreads it all across your folds. Slowly. Teasingly. Sensually. Hums approvingly.

“Already fucking wet baby. So eager, aren’t you? Dripping─” Presses his fingers over your clit. Bit harshly that you mewl. “─wet. Say it’s for me.” Demands yet again. And you’re doing exactly what he wants. “For you. It’s for you Jimin.” Moan your words out. Bend your knees, placing the soles of your shoes on his knees. He is happy with your compliance.

“Spread.” Encourages you further. So, you do as you are asked. How demeaning and mortifying this could be if someone walks in. Your legs spread. Just for Jimin. His hand very obviously buried inside your cunt. Not that you can think things rationally. Impossible when he is rubbing his fingers over your slit relentlessly. The world fades away when one of those fingers’ prods at your entrance. Teases for a bit and then he is entering. Through your spasming walls. Adds a second one. Stretches you wide, palm pressing against the throbbing bud of nerves.

Starts thrusting slowly. Then picks up speed, curling his fingers up. Stroking your walls till he finds that spongy spot. With that you’re just a mess. A shameless, pathetic mess. You have to bite your bottom lips so harshly that you’re sure the blood is drawing, to keep the noises muffled. Jimin makes it super hard for you. Each drag on your walls, each rub on your clit, gets you crashing down in his hold.

“Fuck Lil. Like that. You like it?”

Why does he expect you to answer? When he is just doing what he wanted to do. Makes you forget your own name.

“Just wait till we’re back at the cottage baby. Fuck, I’m gonna fuck you until you fucking can’t walk. Gonna make you forget everything except my name hm? Do you like it Lil? You want me to ruin this cute hole?”

You manage a nod. A barely there one. He chuckles. More of a snicker. Picks his speed up from a notch. Keeps hitting that spot. Your walls uncontrollably clenching around his fingers. Throbbing. Bringing you closer.

“C’mon baby cum for me. Cum hard hm? Be a good slut now.”

You love the filth he spills in your ear. Makes you even closer to your high.

“Look at you. Going dumb just over my fingers, imagine it’s my cock baby. Imagine it’s my cock making you drip down out in this open. Where anyone can walk in. Aren’t you a stupid slut to like this. A whore to let me─” The rest of his words are swallowed by a groan he himself makes at the way you suddenly shriek. Your thighs shaking and back arching. Walls clamping down on his fingers. His words make you fall over the edge. A loud moan in shape of his name finally escapes your mouth despite your best efforts.

“Jimin… oh god fuck.” You whimper in pure pleasure. He says something about you being the best little girl which is drowned by the ringing of your ears. You take your time to calm down. Jimin keeps his hands still inside your pants until you do. Only then he slowly retrieves it out, making a mess on his way. Not that you truly care. You turn your head around to watch him sucks his fingers clean. What a sight. Park Jimin is. Makes a new wave of arousal wash over you. He is going to be the death of you.

You’re certain he will when he pulls you into another kiss.

“You okay?” Asks with such a gentle caring tone that your heart squeezes. You nod. Say that you’ve never been better. Got him laughing. A sight for sore eyes. Got him kissing you again. A worthy reason to die today. You reluctantly pull away from him when he stops you. Turns your face to him with your chin. Keeping you on his lap.

“Lil?”

“Yeah?”

“Was that, okay? I mean… I uh... called you...” He stutters. You know what he means. Is funny he think you’ll not ask him to stop if you weren’t okay with that. You’re pretty sure he called you a slut yesterday as well. So, you interrupt him.

“What a slut? And a whore?” Give him what he is trying to ask. He just stares at you. Nervously so. You find it endearing. Can’t help the urge to kiss him again. So, you give into that urge. Kiss him hard. “It’s fine Jimin. I would’ve asked you not to call me so if I wasn’t.” Answer. Then you want to kiss him again when he smiles. It’s getting out of control.

“Yeah? You will?”

“I will.” You assure. Jimin nods. This time it’s him who takes you into another kiss. Makes you shudder by mumbling something about wanting badly to fuck your brains out. Fix your pants while saying so, nonetheless. He is caring in a scary way.

This is fine. It’s just a day.

…………………………………………..

Ever since Jimin made you cum on his fingers. Out on a bench with all your friends nearby, you weren’t okay at all. The good thing is, he wasn’t okay either. He has his fiery gaze fixed upon you all the damn time. Undressing you with his eyes. Hell, the man even texted you and asked if you were still soaking wet, so ready to be taken, while you walked back to your cars. With Seoyeon. And you had to recite stupid lies when she asked why you were turning deep red. There was a thick tension. Swirling around you two. Even an unintentional brush against your hand made you rub your thighs. Isn’t that crazy? It is. Yet, it’s what happening.

It's mind-blowing how your head spins as he presses you against your bedroom door. Kissing you madly. Devouring your mouth with his. Neither of you is caring about how hard it is to breathe. Ignoring the way your lungs protest. It’s ridiculous how you can’t think about anything else but him. Park Jimin. You can’t get enough. It’s that simple. You want more and more. One leg is hooking around his waist. Desperately, grinding your hips for some friction. Jimin does the same. Presses his hardness against you. Not a single piece of clothing has been shredded yet. The moment you were inside this private space, Jimin had you pressed against him and the door. Attacking your lips like a starved animal. It’s good but see, you want more.

“Jimin… Ji…min. Wanna taste you. Wa- wanna suck you off.” You break the kiss to mumble that. Noting how he visibly loses his mind at that. Shuddering. Sucks in a shaky breath. Leaving out an animalistic groan.

“Ye- yeah? You want that? Want my dick on your mouth─” Asks while nearly ripping your sweater off your body. “Tell how much you want that baby.” Gets you half bare. You fumble with his belt. So, ready to drop to your knees right at the spot. He just allow you. But still knowing him, based on these few times you and he were intimate, you know he expects you to do as he asked.

“Want it so bad Jimin. Give it to me hm? I need you. Want to taste you so bad.” You’re not messing around here. Each word you utter, you mean it. Because that’s how desperate you are for him. That’s how you’re burning up with the fire. How will you ever be able to go back to normal? He has you completely ruined with bare minimum. How pathetic? You’re working on autopilot mode as you push your hand inside his pants. Palming him through his boxers. Absolutely, loving the way he bucks into your touch. For a minute before he lost it completely. As if something snap. Pushes your hand away so he can get rid of the remaining barriers between you two. His hoodie, pants. Your pants follow. Still, however, he keeps his boxers and makes you keep your panties and bra as well. He can be infuriating.

You’re completely frustrated by the time he sits back on the edge of the bed. Frustrated but enjoying it all the same. Just exciting to expect his next moves. Being curious adds more fuel to your fire. Loving it when he takes his time. Toying and playing. Especially, now as he leans back slightly, placing his weight on one arm. Using the other to palm himself through his boxers, eyes burning into you. You who are standing before him, just in your underwear. Like a vulnerable, exposed, and defenseless prey. Just to please him. For his pleasure and that’s it. And you love it. Are getting restless. He smirks, watching the way you are rubbing your thighs uncontrollably. He looks like a god. Pure sin. Gestures to the floor with his eyes. You take the hint right away. Find yourself kneeling in front of him at light speed. Gulping harshly to sooth your dry throat. He comes even closer to the edge. Stops palming himself to caress your cheek. You lean into that touch, heart pounding in your ears.

“You want this baby?” Asks in a husky voice. All you can manage is a weak yes. “Go on then Lil. Do whatever you want.” Gives you the green light. And you jump into action. Pulling from the waistband of his boxer, dragging it through his thick thighs. He helps by raising his hips up. Freeing his cock from its tight confines, making Jimin moan when the cold air hits him. Making you moan when his bare cock finally comes into your view. Hard and throbbing, straining against his skin. Flushed. Precum already leaking. You’re really embarrassed at the way you whimpered. At the way your breath visibly hitched. Most of all, you want the floor to swallow you up at the words that leaves your mouth.

“You’re pretty.” You’re mortified when you mutter that. In a very breathy and hoarse voice. Jimin actually laughs. Even throws his head back. “Yeah? Thought you said my dick is ugly.” Is petting your hair. You look at him with a pout. “Never said that. Said I assume that maybe you’re ugly, and I take that back. Happy?” You think counter back is a good way to preserve your dignity. But that doesn’t make the smug look wiped off Jimin’s face. He just snakes his hand around the back of your neck. Slowly brings your face closer to his hard member. Slowly. Until your face is just millimeters away from his throbbing cock. You keep your eyes on his face. Watch the way his amused expression turns into something feral when your breath hits the sensitive skin. So, you blow on to it. Think there’ll be no other music to compare with his shaky moan. You do it again and again. Poke your tongue out just to kitten lick his shaft, keeping your head just where he holds it.

“Holy fuck! Fucking hell Lil… God.” He groans and lets go off your head. Grits his teeth to keep his composure. But you want him to lose it. Snap. Become a mess. You’re determined to make him when you start to drag the tip of your tongue, across his shaft. Pleased at the way his dick twitched. He can be infuriating but so can you. Keep licking and kissing through, never completely giving in. Not wrapping your lips around but just dragging your tongue over the flushed tip. Tasting the pre cum. Licking and playing with his balls. You feel really proud when it doesn’t take that long. Jimin bucks into your lips.

“Oh, you fucking tease…” Grabs from your head again. “Don- don’t tease. Lil…” Holds your head in place but you don’t do what he wants. Wait patiently till he snaps. “Fuck. Do something baby. Take me in, want to feel you wrap around me.” Starts to crumble. It’s a shame you’re too impatient to wait for him to beg. But you’re fully satisfied with what you got. Hence, waste no time wrapping your lips around his leaking tip. Humming and moaning. Jimin’s moans entangling with yours. You swirls your tongue around his tip before slowly starting to take him further in. Not that you’ve the best experiences in blowjobs. Still, you know what you’re doing. Knows how to pleasure. So, you do your best. Taking him the best way, you can. Bobbing your head up and down. Dragging your tongue. Licking at his balls. Mouthing at his tip. Are on a mission. Slobbering. Sucking.

See now, you don’t think you ever wanted to make someone feel good, than now you want to make Park Jimin. His growls and grunts pared with his taste makes you blissed even without a single touch on your body. You keep your eyes at his disheveled look. Mouth opens and panting. Skin glistening. Trying so bad not to ruin your rhythm and push into you. You want him to do that. So, you pull away, spit drooling into your chin. Rub your thighs as you speak.

“Fuck my mouth.”

Jimin makes a strangling noise at that.

“Fuck, are you sure?”

“Yes, Jimin…” You whisper, breathless. “Please.”

“Lil… fuck you can’t… shit. Fuck, okay. Tap my thigh if it’s too much, okay?”

You just nod. And luckily, he is too impatient now to ask you to say it. You open your mouth, relaxing your jaw. Letting him take control and use your mouth. Feeling his cock heavy on your tongue, forcing your head down and down till you feel the tip of him hitting your throat. Jimin gives you a minute. Again, this is a first time for you. But you’re pretty confident that you can handle it.

“Breathe baby. Don’t hold your breath.” He mumbles. You nod around him. Take couple few seconds before humming, asking him to continue. So, he does. Starting slow. Bucking his hips into your mouth. Gripping the back of your head. Losing control, by every minute his dick is engulfed in the warmth of your mouth. Second by second picking up the speed. Fucking your face. And you’re drooling, sputtering. Trying bad to control your gag reflex. Eyes stinging with tears. Choking on his dick. Each time a gag erupts, Jimin becomes more feral. Fingers gripping your hair harsh, gritting his teeth to hold back. Not to hurt you. Not to push so much on you. The thing is, you’re actually loving every minute of this. Are turned on so badly that you can’t help but keep squeezing your thighs together. Desperate for some kind of friction. There’s an urge to just touch yourself while Jimin uses your mouth to get off. Think it’s embarrassing. But not to Jimin. No. Even with his blissed-out state, he has his eyes on you. Just knows what you’re thinking. You’re not surprised anymore. Not at all when he stutters through his moans and grunts.

“Go ahead, d- do it.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

You want to ask what but are unable to do so. Only capable of drooling more and looking at him with tear filled eyes.

“Touch yourself Lil. You want to, don’t you? Go ahead, rub your pretty clit while I fuck your mouth. Ah─ fucking slut.”

You nearly sob at that. Complying with his demand instantly. One hand still digging into his thigh, you take the other to slip inside your wet panties. Moaning so loud at the friction on your clit, which is muffled by his cock. Then it’s all a sobering mess. Spit. Tears. Moans. Grunts. Curses. Jimin is relentless. You hold onto him with all your strength while your free hand keep circling your sensitive nub. Willing yourself to keep going till he falls over the edge. And it doesn’t take that long.

“Fuck baby I’m close. Hold on. Shit, your mouth feel so good. You look so pretty choking on my cock baby. God─ Dumb fucking slut.” His words make your fingers work at double speed. Your throat clenching when he hits the back.

“Lil, fuck... do- do y- you want me to... inside your mouth huh? Want me to cume in your throat baby?” Jimin forces you a little bit more on his cock. Yet again, it’s a weak nod and a moan is all you can manage. Jimin loves it apparently. No matter how weak your nod is. Because he curses loudly at that. Lose the precision in his movements for second before forces your head completely down. Your nose meets his pelvis. Hips stuttering and stilling as ropes and ropes of white hits your throat. Making your sob partially due to the discomfort but mainly due to the pleasure. Pure, hot pleasure. Jimin holds you there for just a second longer before releasing you. You pull away, greedily sucking in breath to sooth your burning lungs. Saliva covering your entire chin and tears covering your cheeks. You must look like a filthy mess, but the way Jimin looks at you tell you that you’re a hot mess.

“God baby. You’re just… Fuck!” Jimin is heaving for breath as well. His chest rising up and down. Yet bends down immediately to cup your face with both of his hands. “You’re okay right? Lil?” Wipes away your tears. Rubs your face soothingly. You whimper.

“I’m fine. Just aching for─” You don’t get to complete the sentence when Jimin suddenly grabs from your forearms. Yanking you to your feet.

“Up baby c’mon.” A squeal escapes your lips. Jimin isn’t satiated it seems, the demon inside him is still there. The way he rips your bra away is humanly impossible. Your panties follows next. Got you straddling him. Instead of placing you over his crotch, however, he hurriedly lay down. Legs still dangling over the edge. Slaps your ass slightly.

“On my face Lil. Ride my face. Want to eat you out until your legs can’t hold you anymore.”

You look at him surprisingly for a moment. Then nod. If he wants that you’re not going to argue. Move forward with your knees fast as you can. Nearly hovers down your aching cunt on his face when a knock erupts on the door, freezing you. You almost panicked and run away at light speed before you remember that the door is securely fastened. Jimin annoyingly groans under you, frustrated. Your face flushes with embarrassment as you scramble off him. Sitting down beside when the interrupter speaks through. Funny it’s Jin’s voice since you expected it to be Kim freaking Taehyung.

“I’m extremely sorry to ruin your fuck session brother, but the stupid Ji Hun wants to talk to you right now. Can’t be delayed because I already tried.”

“Are you fucking serious Hyung?” Jimin sits back. It’s a comical situation. You can’t laugh though. Not when your clit is still throbbing.

“Yes. And I’m sorry. Just five minutes max. Say whatever he needs to hear.” Jin shouts. You can imagine him pressing his ear to your door. Jimin looks at you. Despite your frustration you can understand that he needs to work. You give him a soft and reassuring smile.

“That’s okay.” Mumble. Peck his lips. Jimin takes a moment to make sure you’re really fine. When he does, kisses you deeply.

“Just five minutes okay. Ten max. Take a shower if you want. I’ll be back by the time you finish.” Suggests. And you agree. Seems like a good idea.

“Be quick.” Gift him another kiss. “I’m dripping.” Purr against his mouth, smirking when he whimpered.

………………………………………………

You’ve never showered this fast before. Only twelve minutes. Precisely. A record. And sticking to his word Jimin was there when you left the bathroom. The only problem? He was fast asleep. Breathing deeply and peaceful. So, you’re just standing near the edge of the bed for God knows how long. Like a creep. If anything, you should feel irritated, annoyed. He left you hanging. Now is sleeping like nothing matters. The thing is you don’t feel anything remotely close to irritation. Or annoyance. Instead, you feel your heart swooning. Swelling. Adoration fills you up. You feel affection. A deep urge to kiss his puffy cheeks and pouty lips. He looks angelic. The amber hue of the ceiling lights creates a golden hue on his face. He looks beautiful. In most humanly way. Neck tilts to one side and has one of his hands curled into a tight fist. As though he’s holding onto a dream.

God! Why?

Why does he have to do this to you? Why does your heart skips beating when there’s nothing illicit happening? Why do you want to kiss him madly when you don’t feel aroused at all?

Fuck this is not good.

You want to kiss him for no reason. Because you feel like it. To feel closer.

Nope. No.

That wasn’t the deal. You turn around your heel fast. Then turn back again on a second thought. Cover him with the comforter and flee the room like a hurricane.

…………………………………..

It’s not that late. Just near midnight but all your friends have decided to call it an early night that day. Must be damn exhausted by all the drinking, partying, and walking. You envy them. They’ll be here tomorrow as well. You won’t. Simply can’t handle 72 hours straight. There’s a painful disappointment inside you. This day is slipping away. No scratch that, it’s already over. A day. That was your deal. You and Jimin wanted a day to pretend normal and satiate your burning desires. And you did to a certain extent but not completely. You’re still very much drooling at his sight. Heart beating madly and arousals seeping through you. Maybe if you have actually fucked, this day could’ve been a huge success. Finally satisfied.

Well, you can obviously wake him up instead of watching him sleep. But you know you can’t. Even though you shouldn’t, you care too much. How could you just wake that peaceful angel up. Too cruel. It doesn’t matter that your time in paradise is over. That you have to face reality, and you haven’t gained anything during your journey. You’ll still make sure Park Jimin is sleeping tight. Resting. Will stay awake till the sun rise, till he wake up. And to assist you to do that you need huge load of caffeine.

That was your intention when you take the sharp corner to the kitchen. Only to collide with a hard chest as a loud mewl escapes your mouth.

“Fuck, sorry.” The person whispers. Trying to keep the quiet of the cottage. People are sleeping after all. You raise your head to look at the owner of the chest. Who turned out to be Jungkook with a glass of water in his hand. You’ve caused it to spill a little bit. He appears just as surprised as you.

“Oh, I’m sorry Kookie. Didn’t see you there.” You apologize fast since it’s your fault.

“Noona?” He whispers again.

“Yes.” You whisper back.

“What are you doing.”

“Ah, I couldn’t sleep so I just came down. Late night snack thing.” You think it’s stupid to say you need a coffee just after you said you couldn’t sleep. Jungkook hums in understanding. And just when you think he’ll leave you up to mind your own business, he speak again.

“Can’t sleep either.” He is inadvertently covering your way to the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

He hums again. You nearly round him to go past to the kitchen.

“Do you smoke?” This time he raise his voice a little bit, so he is mumbling now. You shouldn’t be surprised that he is asking random questions from you at random moments. You decide to stay honest and say yes. Ask him why he asks.

“Well, since both of us can’t sleep, how about a smoke?” Is back to whispering. Gestures to the window clearly indicating outside. “Wanna go out?” Adds that question as well. You take a minute to consider his invitation. Decide that it’s better to have some company than being alone. Mumble a simple but eager yes.

…………………………………

You and Jungkook stand under a dormant maple tree. Wrapped up in winter coats. You’re definitely not wearing yours and Jungkook’s oversized one swallows you whole. Freshly fallen snowflakes scrunch under your heavy boots. Stars glitter above you in the clear sky after the snowfall. Air is crisp and biting. Kisses your face like thousands of needles. Even with the large winter jacket, you’re shivering slightly.

“Are you too cold Noona? Want to head back inside.” Jungkook asks you as he exhales a puff of smoke. Holds the cigarette to you. You were quite surprised when he didn’t give you your own. But it’s so expected of Jungkook to wanting to share a one. In the end, you didn’t protest. You take the cigarette from him while shaking your head.

“No. I like this actually. Relaxing, isn’t it? And the sky is beautiful.” You hollow your cheeks to take a deep drag, liking the feeling of how Nicotine addictively warms you up. You’re not a habitual smoker by any means. It’s just sometimes you smoke. And you really mean it when you say it’s relaxing. Your heart is beating fast but this time it’s not due to Park Jimin. It’s just the effect of Nicotine. So, you think it’s good. To find out Park Jimin isn’t the sole reason of your body going crazy. It goes crazy over Nicotine too. That’s good. You like the way crips air battle against your exhaustion and chase away the sleepiness. Like how Jungkook’s endless talking make you forget the man who’s sleeping upstairs like a baby. Stops you from just give in and go back. Kiss every inch of his face and curl into his warm body. This, in fact, is outstanding.

“Yeah? Are you good at spotting constellations?” He glances up at the sky. You follow his line of vision.

“No. Are you?”

“Absolutely not. Can’t understand how people do that─” He points at the sky. You snort at his claim. “It all looks the same. Like fairy dust.” Muses before averting his gaze to you and taking the cigarette away.

“Oh, I actually believed they are magical lights as a kid. Fairies and their fairy lights.” You look at him too. Waiting patiently for him to share the smoke back with you. Raise your hands to take it when Jungkook casually just holds it to your mouth. You glance at his face quickly. He urges you to go on. So, you do, wrapping your lips around the abusive cylinder.

“You don’t anymore?” He questions while you take another deep drag. You answer after blowing that smoke out. Click your tongue.

“I’ll believe they are fairy lights again when I get to see a shooting star.” You dreamily look above at the sky again. Jungkook interrupts you with a gasp. That leads him to ask you series of question about how come you’ve not seen one. Which takes a turn into asking about your life. You answer him vaguely as possible. Not wanting to blow your cover. Your answers consist mainly of rough yes and nos. And it goes on until you’ve got to light up a third cigarette. Jungkook lets you take the first drag from that.

“Are you happy with him?” Jungkook’s question cuts through the conversation suddenly. A complete turnover from what you’ve been talking about. He was asking you about your (Liya’s) family. You were telling him that you don’t get along with them well. Which you don’t know to be the ruth or not. You let the cigarette slips out of your mouth as you take him.

“With whom?”

“Jimin?” Says casually before his eyes goes wide with sudden realization. “Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask such kind of question from people now, should I? You don’t have to answer.” Jungkook shakes his head fast. Stammers. You’re not sure if he should or not. Simply you don’t know the answer. You shake your head to say it’s okay anyway. Say that you’re very happy. He nods in understanding.

“That’s good. I mean I’m sorry for asking that. Was just curious. You know that day... uh... the day we met, Tae said something about you two not being able to stand each other but it seems like you can’t get enough from each other. That’s why I asked. Sorry.” He apologizes again with an explanation. You can remember Taehyung saying such thing. It makes sense why Jungkook is curious.

“Well, maybe we can’t stand each other some days. But you know it’s just... relationships?” You feel odd to say that. Honestly, all these times, despite all these people believing you’re Liya, you’ve not played your part. You were just you. Even with Jimin. You were and are you. Not Kim Liya. Odd to speak on her behalf. An adorable bunny grin appears on Jungkook’s face.

“Maybe yeah…” Nods. “But you’re really weird you know? Jimin must be really fascinated by you all the time.” That grin never leaves his face as he says that.

“Yah! It’s rude to call someone weird.” You gasp.

“I mean in a good way though.”

“It’s still very rude and how come? How am I weird?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Well, first, you don’t know Midnight Symphony─” He starts to put his fingers down. “Second, you know songs that we’ve never heard about. Third, today you were so engrossed with a soda can back at the convenience store. I’ve never seen someone being so interested at a soda can. I mean what’s there to look so much? Fourth─”

“Geez, alright you have a long fuckin list. But listen. First─” You start putting down fingers as well. “It’s really possible I haven’t heard a song─”

“Yes, but not the fucking Midnight Symphony. Even newborns know that.”

“Shut up, it’s very possible and I wasn’t so engrossed with a soda can.” You absolutely were. That soda can was in stupid shape. And so was it had a label saying it’s in garlic flavor. That’s the weirdest shit you’ve found so far in this world. Can’t blame you for staring at it.

“You were Noona. You were looking at it like this,” Jungkook bends down slightly. “-and your eyes were like this,” Squints his eyes into narrow slits. “- your mouth was like this.” Opens his mouth. Looks like a freaking cartoon. You shriek in embarrassment.

“I. Was. Not. Jeon Jungkook.” Say sternly through your grin. Kick the snow underneath your foot so it hit Jungkook’s shoes. It’s his time to shriek. Jumping to his side to avoid it but failing. Comes up with a counterattack, nonetheless. You two are kicking snow at each other like it’s a real time war in a minute. Trying to compress your laughter and keep balance. You’re certain it would’ve escalated into a very serious snowball fight. But at the right moment you almost bend down to grab some handful of snow Jungkook gasps so loudly. In fear. Startle and nearly lost his balance making you hold from his jacket. When Jungkook’s sudden gasp jolts you, you spin around in alarm, only to stumble backward in shock, mirroring his startled reaction. Jungkook returning the favor by holding you steady. A yelp leaving your mouth.

There’s someone standing in front of you. In the middle of the front yard. Possible since there’s not a wall or a gate to protect the property after all. Still, isn’t any less scary or startling to see someone strange suddenly appearing behind you.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses as he drags you behind him immediately. Shielding your figure. It’s obvious that this person is not someone from your friend group. It’s a woman. A mop of grey hair on her head. Isn’t wearing a hat nor a scarf. Wearing a puffy jacket, however. Is standing very still like statue. The faint light coming from the cottage shows you that her face is covered with hundreds of wrinkles. You feel a strange shiver run through your spine. Mouth going dry and the hair on the nape of your neck is standing up. What a creepy sensation!

“Fuck I nearly had a heart attack. Who are you?” Jungkook mumbles the first part before asking the latter loudly. Still keeping you behind him. The woman doesn’t answer. See, fucking creepy. She looks too old to be a serial killer or a thief, but you’ll never know. You grab Jungkook’s jacket. Whoever this woman might be, you don’t think it’s wise to talk to her. You need to go inside. So, you tug from Jungkook’s jacket.

“Let’s go inside.” You whisper to him. Trying to walk away and drag him with you. He is a boulder though. Doesn’t even budge. Is looking at the intruder with his brows furrowed. “Jungkook.” You hiss. He takes a brief glance at you. Looks like is about to relent when the woman speaks. Halting both of your movements. Her voice calmed.

“You need to go.” She says. “Promptly.” Adds. You and Jungkook, halted in your movements, gape at her. Not understanding anything.

“What?” Jungkook is the one who questions. You wish he didn’t.

“The young lady,” Woman points at you. You stupidly point at yourself. “You need to return to where you belong, promptly. Or else, the people you know, the loved ones of you will forget about your memories. The same thing happens to Kim Liya. You shouldn’t break the order of things child.” She keeps going.

And you freeze.

You think you understand what she says. Blood drains out of your face. You might’ve turned into porcelain pale.

She knows. Whoever she is, she knows!

You almost step away from Jungkook. But halt again when she softly speaks your name. Your real name. She says it fondly.

“This is a huge mistake my child. You shouldn’t be here. Make haste and go back to where you belong.” She calmly states. Nearly turns around like she is about to leave. Your brain goes into high alert. Panick mode. She knows and she just can’t leave like that. Even though you understand her words, they don’t make sense. What does she mean by losing memories? How does she know in the first place? Who is she?

You practically run to her. “Wait!” You shout. She stops and turns around. Face still very calm. Stand still like a statue. “Yes?” Asks.

“Who are you?” You question. There’s million things you want to know but that’s the one that leaves your mouth.

“No one very important, young child. Make haste and go back.” Turns around again.

“No wait, you obviously know who I am. You know I’m from a different world. You know I’m not Liya. And… and... that must mean something.” You blurt out. She just sighs but says nothing. So, you continue. “You are saying that I shouldn’t be here and should go back but you know I’ll be here the moment I sleep right?”

“Yes, I do know that.” Finally answers.

“Then what’s the point of asking me to go back. This is not under my control anyway. Tell me what’s happening here. I... We’ve been looking for answers for such a long time. A way to stop this. You do know how to stop this don’t you?” Your voice is shaky from excitement and something that you can’t quite explain.

“Listen dear human, this is not my place to meddle with human affairs. I shouldn’t be here either, just like you. I’m just here to warn you that spending more time in one world results in your permanent disappearance from the other.”

“Wha─”

“Each and every person in these countless universes have their own place. Only one place. When you are not there to fill that space, it vanishes. You can’t return back to your space. It’s already gone. You’ll no longer be a part of your own universe, but a part of this. Filling up the vacant space of Kim Liya. And as long as you are here, she can’t return… and her loved ones will forget of her memories as well. You’ll be the only one they remember. Thus, my dear child you need to go back before things get complicated.” She smiles at you fondly. You’re on the hand, are feeling like losing your balance. Legs buckling.

“Where is she? Liya?” You force yourself to keep interrogate. Funny, how you trust this woman.

“Nowhere.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Why she isn’t here when I am?”

“You are not paying attention now, are you? There’s only one space. You can’t share that space. This is her space…. And you are occupying it. That’s why she isn’t here. Now, I have already said so many things I shouldn’t and especially, in front of a witness. What should we do? Wipe this young gentleman’s memory off.” The woman turns to Jungkook. God, you really forgot he is here. He looks bewildered. Eyes still wide and mouth open. Confused. Takes an uncertain step back when the attention falls on him.

“Wh- what’s really happening here?” Looks between you and the old woman. Gulps harshly. Him witnessing what’s happening here isn’t good. It doesn't mean you want his memory erased, however. Hell, you don’t even know what that even means.

“No. What? You can’t do that.” You ignore Jungkook completely to answer the woman. She gives you an amused look. “Are you sure?” Asks. “Of course, you can’t wipe someone’s memory off like that and─” You don’t get to finish what you want to say when she shrugs and turns around again. No. She still hasn’t told you half of the stuff you want to know.

“Wait, wait please.” You almost grab from her hand.

“You already know enough children. Do the right thing.” Takes another step.

“At least tell me how to stop this.” You won’t let this opportunity slip like that. She sighs heavily again. Doesn’t turn around to look at you. A beat of silence passes before she speaks again.

“Just do the exact opposite of what you did that day.” Takes another step away. You don’t stop her this time. Are too confused to do so. What day? The day you came here. She stops again. “Since I already told you so many things, here’s another one- you only have one week. And it’s quite okay to believe in miracles sometimes.” With that, in front of your very bare eyes, and with Jungkook to witness, she vanishes. Just like that. In a snap. Not a single sign of her existence is left there. Only you and Jungkook with your mouth hanging open. You suck in a sharp breath. Not believing what you just saw.

How? How did she?

“Fucking hell, what the hell is happening? Noona?” Jungkook breaks the stupor you two are in. Making your head whip toward him. He is still wearing a same kind of bewildered expression. “Noona? Do you know her? Did she ─ did she fucking disappeared? What’s about, fuck- did she tell something about another world? Wait? Are you a fucking alien?” He takes a step toward you. His quite voice raising an octave with every question.

Shit! This is a mess. You don’t know how to explain this. You want to, however. But not now. Not if what she said was true. The more you spend your time here you’re keep fucking things up. You need to find Jimin, tell him what just happened. You need to leave.

“Later. I’ll explain later. I need to go.” You mutter as you start toward the door. You’ll definitely explain. She said you have a week.

Fuck you only have a week!

…………………………………

It was a quick departure. In the middle of the night. Nobody except Jungkook knew you’d left. You gave him a quick hug and a promise of an explanation. And a request to let others know that something came up. He said yes. You and Jimin drove off at the very moment.

When you first woke him up, Jimin was confused. Almost kissed you, purring. Asked why you haven’t woken him up, before you stopped him. He looked taken aback. When you hurriedly but clearly explained to him what happened, he became difficult like always. So many questions and doubts. Yet eventually he had to believe you. Especially, when you pointed out that Jungkook witnessed them all. Jimin wasn’t happy. He was irate in fact. Was like that when you left the cottage and is still like that. You haven’t talked much since then. You don’t like the uncomfortable silence though. Make you feel even more awful. About everything that happened. Your brain is swirling around the guilt and confusion. That paired up with the realization that everything indeed came to an end, makes your heart ache. Except for your illicit affair of couple days, Jimin and you were close. More than close. It’s just like you knew how it would be. You knew this would become a memory to cry over one day. Only that it came a little faster than you expected. You don’t want to wallow in this feeling.

Jimin is completely focusing on the road. The roads are not in the best condition to drive fast. No matter how much in a hurry you are. He is restless. Looks remorseful. You understand him completely. He was having the time of his life with you while his girlfriend’s entire existence almost disappeared.

Still, it’s strange to be like this around him after all. You need to talk to him. It’s out of control. Need some kind of comfort. His comfort to be precise.

“She said we have a week.” You blurt that out before you can think. Jimin snaps his head at you. He knew it already but looks at you like he just hears it. Opens his mouth to say something but doesn’t. Blows a breath out. Licks his lips and nods. And is looking away again. It makes you irritated. You want him to say that he is equally sad as you.

“Is that it? You have nothing to say?” You ask again.

“What do you want me to say?” He doesn’t even look at you as he asks. Knuckles turning white at how hard he is gripping the steering wheel.

You’re disappointed that he is fine with you leaving. Not that you can question it though. So, you change the subject. But apparently into the wrong path.

“I want to come clean before I leave.” You mumble. Eyes expectantly watching him when he looks at you with knitted brows.

“What?”

“You know, I want your friends to know who I am before I leave.”

He actually laughs at that. Humorless. Gets you annoyed.

“You’re fucking joking, right?” Looks at you like you’re the funniest thing in every universe.

“No, I am not Park. I’m freaking serio─”

“Are you fucking crazy Lil?” His tone and the way he nearly yells makes you snap. Ache in your heart turning into sadness. So, you yell back. Ask him what’s his problem is.

“Why the hell do you want to tell them?” He replies. Or yells again.

“And why the hell not? Because I kind of know them.”

“Stop fucking bullshitting Lil. They don’t know you at all. They think you’re fucking Liya.”

“That’s exactly why I need to tell them that I am not.”

You and he are really shouting through the top of your lungs now. This isn’t what you wanted when you wanted to talk. Things has taken a complete turn. You don’t even know why you’re fighting. Jimin hits the brake furiously. Makes you jolt forward. He has stopped the car in the middle of the road. Good thing that there’s no other vehicles on the road.

“And then what Lil? What happens after that? You want them to see me as a fucking cheater? Is that what you want? You’ll fucking leave and I’ll be the one left to pick up the pieces of my shattered life and relationship.” He is burning you down with his glare. You shut your mouth instantly. Oh, you haven’t thought about it that way at all. You don’t know why you want to come clean. What’s the purpose? It’s just you want to say something and that’s what came to your mind. And then his dismissive answers made you irritated. Does he not care at all? You’ll be leaving in a week.

“Right? That’s what I thought.” Jimin says again when you don’t reply. Sighs. “So, is this like you want some kind of revenge?” Questions again. Your eyes go wide instantly, jaw dropping to the floor at the same time your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. What is he talking about?

“Why the fuck would I want a revenge?”

“No right? Then what the hell is this? Why are you being difficult? Why can’t you just stick to the plan and leave like you came? Everything resolved, you get your life back and I get mine. Just a normal life huh? Isn’t that what you wanted?” He points it out. What he is saying is the absolute truth. That was your plan. Then why do you feel your heart shatter. He just asked you to leave quietly. Like you don’t matter. And that’s the case after all. You don’t matter. Are here by mistake. You were just a body, a temporary stand-in. A warm presence in the absence of his real love. You’re nothing. You feel your throat constricts. This is not good that you’re on the verge of crying. You don’t want to cry at all, but his next words hit like final wave to break your dam.

“Just don’t ruin my life before you leave Lil. I did nothing wrong to you. You agreed and it was for a day. One day. You’ve no reason to do so. Just don’t make this difficult.” Says before accelerating the car again. You say nothing, too afraid to speak. Know you’ll definitely cry. Instead, look away through the window, allowing your thoughts to consume you completely. Biting on your lower lip to swallow back the sob rising in your throat.

Ruin his life?

You’ve no right to feel so hurt. Like he said you knew it was for a day. You shouldn’t expect anything from Park Jimin. This is his and Liya’s life. Their world and universe. You’re just a stranger. It’s so unfair to expect that Jimin would care about you. To say the least, you’re embarrassed to realize that you indeed expect him to grieve your departure. Ridiculous. Shameless. It was indeed a day in paradise. A dream. And the thing about dream? They always come to an end when you wake up. This is the end of your dream. Well, you’ll find a way to deal with reality somehow. You know how to manage through heartbreaks. If Jimin wants you to leave like that, you will. He can go fuck himself. If he doesn’t care, neither will you. You will show him your middle finger when you say goodbye.

Yes, just Goodbye. No, ‘I’ll miss you’. No. Nothing else. Just Goodbye.

GOOD FUCKING BYE!

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a/n- Leave a note if you enjoyed this one!

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totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus · 3 days

Text

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 13/?

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3

There was no snow on the ground, yet, but Evan’s breath came frosting out in clouds of vapor as he stood in the middle of a field on his coven’s land, hands braced on his knees as he heaved in gulps of air. The remains of a few bales of hay smoldered merrily a few dozen yards away from him, black smoke billowing up into the crystal blue sky. There were still about five bales scattered around him that were untouched, though.

Again, Evan.

The calm, gentle voice echoed around him, accompanied by the surge of electric power that always signaled a familiar casting. The smoldering bales of all hay went up in crackles of white-hot flame, fresh clouds of smoke billowing up and swirling in miniature tornadoes around them. A few seconds later, the smoke scattered as though blown away by a fierce, sudden wind, and when the air had cleared, all of the bales were restored to pristine condition. And now even farther apart than they were before.

“Sally, come on,” he whined. He knew he was whining. He couldn’t help it. He’d been out here since school let out almost three hours ago, he was cold, he was hungry, he was starting to get a headache from so much casting…and he knew that his familiar absolutely was not going to let him go home until he’d performed the exercise exactly how she wanted him to. He turned to look at her anyway, pasting his best puppy-dog eyes—the expression that always worked on Maddie—across his face.

Sally was perched on top of part of an old stone fence, her tail twitching back and forth as she observed the field like a queen surveying her kingdom. Her mangled ear—a battle souvenir she’d earned back before Pennsylvania had ever even been a state—flicked towards him, and even from across the field, Evan could see the amusement on her face. Most of the other kids in the coven thought it was so cool to have such an old and powerful familiar, that it must be amazing to be taught and trained by someone who had so much experience. And sure, yes, it really was. He loved Sally, and was so grateful that she’d chosen to bond with him, especially after going so long without bonding with any other Buckley witch.

But sometimes, being taught and trained by someone with almost three centuries of experience really sucked. He couldn’t get away with anything!

Again, Evan, she said, picking her way over to another moss-covered fencepost and lazily starting to groom her rough, calico coat. You’re still not dispersing your magic properly. You should be able to hit at least three more targets with the same spell.

If it had been either of his parents saying something like that to him, a hot flush of anger and embarrassment would have swept through him. The black cloud of their disappointment (God, Evan can’t you do anything right? How can you mess up something that simple? I don’t know where your father and I went wrong! Don’t you dare embarrass us in front of the coven.) would have pressed down on him like a physical weight, driving all his self-control and concentration right out of his head.

Sally’s criticism never felt like that, though.

Mostly because Sally was never disappointed in him. She was firm, and no-nonsense, and never let him get away with being lazy or taking shortcuts…but he never doubted that she believed in him with all her heart and would never ask him to do something she wasn’t absolutely sure he could do. Her patience with him never ran out, and even in just three short years under her mentoring, his power and control had improved a lot.

The only other person who ever made him feel so loved and supported was Maddie.

So, despite being hungry, and cold, and tired, he pushed himself up straight and walked back to the spot that would give him the best line of sight to all of the haybales. He stretched his arms over his head and shook the tension from his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he started chanting.

This time, all but one of the bales burst into flame.

Excellent! Sally’s voice was filled with pride, and she vanished from the fencepost, reappearing seconds later at his feet. Her slightly ragged tail flicked back and forth as she once again smothered the flames and restored the haybales to pristine condition, this time all stacked together.

Evan looked down at her, hands on his hips. “Really? Again?” he sighed. Sally sat down primly and licked one of her paws.

Last exercise for today, she promised. This time I want you to do it without reaching through your coven bond.

Evan startled at that, looking down at his familiar in surprise. “Isn’t that dangerous?” he asked, like dispersing the strain of casting through a coven bond wasn’t literally one of the first lessons children learned when they started training with their magic. No matter how powerful you were, casting was difficult. It took a ton of energy and focus, and channeling magic—especially into more complex spells or multiple spells at once—could be exhausting. Drawing on your coven bond to alleviate some of the strain was an essential skill. While magic could be cast without the aid of a coven bond, it was like trying to lift something extremely heavy by yourself…the risk of injury was higher, and the longer you did it, the more dangerous it got.

I won’t let anything happen to you, little love, Sally replied calmly, and Evan scoffed.

“I know that,” he said, the idea of his familiar ever letting any harm come to him if she could prevent it so utterly ridiculous as to be a complete non-issue. He knew Sally would always protect him just as surely as he knew Maddie would. “I just—why practice that?” he asked, honestly curious. Sally never did anything without a purpose.

Strangely, Sally seemed to hesitate, looking out over the frosty field and wrapping her tail around her feet. I would see you prepared for any eventuality, she said at length. Even if it’s no longer a customary lesson, or something some might think a waste of time.

Evan knew his familiar well enough by now to know she was talking about his parents. She was always talking about his parents when she got that particular tone in her voice. Sally always played nice in front of other members of their coven or visiting guests, but in private she had never made her dislike for his parents a secret. She was polite—but every time she was in the same room as his mom and dad, the temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees.

Truthfully, if Sally hadn’t been such an old and respected familiar, if she hadn’t held the status she did in their coven and in Pennsylvania witch society in general, he doubted his parents would have let her bond with him when she approached them about it. There had been no way for them to turn her down without it raising a lot of questions, though…and if there was one thing Phillip and Margaret Buckley hated, it was questions.

Still, Sally wasn’t wrong that a lot of her lessons and teaching methods were…old-fashioned. Maddie usually explained it as Sally just having lived most of her life as a coven familiar in times where conflicts—not even just with vampires, witch covens had once been a lot more volatile than they tended to be now—were a lot more common. Sometimes, though—sometimes Evan couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Sally was making her decisions about what and how to teach him based on something she was expecting. He had no real reason to think that way. It was just a feeling.

Perhaps sensing his distraction, Sally nudged his shin with her head, purring softly when he knelt down and scratched behind her mangled ear. You’ll wield tremendous power when you come fully into it, little love. You’re already stronger than many of my witches ever were. If your parents were wiser, they would be grooming you for coven leadership someday. Perhaps even a place on a high coven.

Evan snorted, even as a warm glow of happiness at her words curled through his chest. “We both know they’d never want me to be a coven leader. They hate my magic. They hate how I got it.”

Sally growled, low in her throat. They hate that it was given to you, and their part in how it was given at all. That they take their self-blame out on you is a shame they will have to reckon with someday. She batted at his cheek with one paw. You are blameless, Evan Buckley. You will be my finest witch. My last witch. Were it not for you, I would have left this coven when your parents…made the choices they did. You are precious to me and your sister, little love. And someday you will be precious to others. I would thank you to remember that.

He blinked hard, turning his face away and pretending to look over to the stack of haybales. Sally allowed him to, leaping up onto his shoulder as he stood slowly and draping herself over the back of his neck.

Now. Again, Evan, she ordered.

Evan took a few stumbling steps backward, almost tripping over the body of Jon—Greenway, Greenway, Greenway…he’d try to sell Evan out to vampires, damn it, he was directly responsible for this whole shitshow—Greenway’s familiar. The three vampires stepped fully out of the temp agency’s offices, and Evan’s heart dropped as another two appeared in the doorway. Five. Five vampires, their auras all roiling with the power that could only have come from drinking witch blood. Of their own volition, his eyes flicked to Greenway’s corpse, swallowing hard at the way the creatures stalking out of the offices and spreading out in the hallways had savaged him.

Kinard shifted, planting himself firmly in front of Evan, his movements shifting into the easy liquidity of a predator. The lead vampire—a massive blond man who looked like he’d fit right in as a bouncer or a bodyguard—looked Kinard up and down before zeroing back in on Evan. His companions weren’t nearly as physically intimidating, but Evan knew that didn’t mean anything. Evan was not a weak man in any measure of the word, but Kinard’s coven mate Lucy could have snapped him in half without any effort.

“Kinard,” blondie growled, his gaze never leaving Evan for an instant. “So you’re the reason our little present made it out of Gerrard’s party. Didn’t have that on the Bingo card, gotta say.”

Kinard tilted his head. “Do I know you?” he asked, his voice flat and cold, so different from the way he’d been speaking to Evan all day it was a little jarring.

Blondie finally looked away from Evan, smirking at Kinard. “Not personally. But don’t pretend the little traitor here didn’t give you the rundown.” He rolled his neck from side to side, scarlet light slowly starting to gleam in his eyes as his fangs dropped to visibility. He looked down at Greenway’s body, kicking it lightly. “Never tasted witch blood before…I’ve been missing out.” He narrowed his eyes at Kinard, his smirk turning a little more vicious. “Decide you’d rather keep him for yourself?”

“If you know who I am, then you know this isn’t going to go well for you, witch blood or no,” Kinard said, ignoring the vampire’s odd remarks. Why was he talking like Kinard knew what was going on here?

To Evan’s surprise, a couple of the other vampires glanced at each other uneasily. Logically, he knew that Kinard’s age granted him a lot of power…but he hadn’t realized it would be so much that a vampire might be worried about taking him on five to two. Especially as they’d all drunk witch blood as well.

“No reason this has to get violent,” Blondie said, though he very much sounded like he wanted it to get violent. “You walk out right now, we can all pretend we never saw each other.”

Kinard rocked back on his heels a little. “Generous. All right, kid, let’s go,” Kinard said, jerking his head toward the stairwell and holding out his arm back toward Evan like he expected Evan to tuck himself up under it.

Blondie chuckled mirthlessly. “Cute. Last chance, Kinard. Walk away. Leave the witch to us. I can’t say I blame you for trying to muscle in on the games, here…everyone knows your coven is strays and fresh turns. But you lost the gamble. Leave.”

A low, menacing growl reverberated through the hall. To his shock, Evan realized it was coming from Kinard. “Not. Happening.” The deadpan humor of a few seconds ago was completely gone, and Evan didn’t have to look to know Kinard’s eyes were glowing just as scarlet as the other vampire’s.

He bit his lip and murmured a spell, his power spiraling outwards and swirling around him. A circle of white light emblazoned itself on the floor, surrounding him totally. It was a risk splitting his focus on a barrier spell if he was going to be doing anything else—and trying to engage in combat magic without a coven bond was going to hurt no matter how quickly the fight went (and this was going to be a fight, there was no mistaking that). If he was going to risk using the kind of power it would take to help Kinard against five vampires, the smartest course of action would be to take the hit to fire off a transport spell and leave Kinard to deal with this mess.

He just…couldn’t bring himself to do it.

It was stupid, it was irrational…this was his chance to escape, damn it.

But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave Kinard alone to deal with these things. So, he braced himself, firming up the barrier that would hopefully keep any of the vampires that got close to him at bay long enough for him to cast against them. He sent a silent thanks winging to Sally—wherever she was. She’d only been trying to teach him the kind of focus he’d need to wield the amount of magic he had when she had him practice casting without relying on his coven bond…but she was the only reason he was still able to cast the kind of spells he could without ending up a heap on the ground.

“Bad choice, Kinard,” Blondie said. “Very bad choice.”

Evan knew vampires were fast. He knew they were very fast. He’d seen it firsthand a couple of times since Kinard had taken him out of that mansion.

Kinard and Blondie seemed to fucking teleport toward each other. One second Kinard was standing right in front of him, and the next he was a dozen feet away, leaping at Blondie with a snarl that sounded more animal than human. They crashed into each other, and Kinard twisted in midair to get one arm around Blondie’s throat so that when they landed, he was able to fling Blondie like a goddamn battering ram at the other vampires. Three of them went down in a heap, skidding back over the hallway floor until they nearly hit the stairwell door.

Kinard glanced over his shoulder at Evan, as though checking to make sure he was still there, and then raced forward towards the two remaining vampires. Only one of them accepted the challenge, springing at Kinard with fangs bared.

It did not end well for him.

Evan nearly lost the concentration of the barrier, staring in horrified shock as Kinard’s hands closed around the other vampire’s neck. As he slammed into the other vampire’s body hard enough to take them both to the floor. As he made a wrenching motion with one arm and a fountain of blood erupted around him. Kinard casually tossed something the size of a basketball aside and oh God, oh God, oh God Evan couldn’t look. Didn’t want to look. Kinard rose from the still-twitching body of the vampire and took a few steps back, repositioning himself in between the remaining four and Evan.

Mere seconds had passed.

“Sure you still want to do this?” Kinard growled.

Blondie and the remaining vampires rose, a new, animalistic wariness in their movements. Evan watched them fan out like a pack of wolves about to attack and shook his head, forcing his shock at the sheer brutality he’d just witnessed aside. Another spell, and a ball of flickering fire erupted in each hand. For just a moment, he felt like he was standing in a frostbitten field again, Sally’s soothing voice in his head—Again, Evan—as he stared down an array of targets.

Blondie dove at Kinard again, two of the other vampires flanking him…but the fourth darted around them and made a beeline straight for Evan. He heard Kinard shout, saw the vampire lunge for the one that was barreling toward him, only to be dogpiled by Blondie and his flunkies. Evan braced himself, breathed, and flicked his hand forward, the spellword falling from his lips in a sigh. The fireball leapt from his fingertips, zinging through his barrier and straight towards the attacking vampire with the surety of a guided missile.

The look of shock on the thing’s face as his spell slammed home, fire and smoke racing over the vampire’s body like he was made of kindling, was very satisfying. The vampire screamed, clawing at his clothes and hair as ghostly white flames enveloped him, reducing the thing to ashes almost as quickly as Kinard had dispatched its friend.

Two down, three to go.

Kinard had gone down in a tangle on the floor with all three of the attacking vampires, fighting like a maddened bear. Evan searched frantically for an opening, somewhere he could aim and burn Blondie or one of his henchmen, but he couldn’t do it without hitting Kinard. His stomach twisted at the thought of the vampire erupting into ash, dying at his hand, and reluctantly he let the fire spell dissipate. Sweat started to bead on his brow, his heart starting to pound as he summoned another spell, holding it, holding it, holding it…

One of Blondie’s flunkies reared up, his fist pulled back as though he were going to drive it down into Kinard’s back, and Evan struck. He screamed the spellword, and an invisible force slammed into the vampire, sending him flying back to crash against the stairwell door and land on the floor in a heap. Evan summoned the fire again, his head swooping a little at the rapid shift between spells, at the effort it was taking to keep the barrier up, He didn’t dare drop it, though. The fireball erupted from his hands, striking home and the hallway once again echoed with pain-filled shrieks that abruptly cut off.

“Get the fucking witch!” Blondie screamed, getting his hands around Kinard’s throat and slamming him down onto the floor, straddling him to hold him down as his last remaining crony scrambled up.

Kinard twisted underneath Blondie, managing to get his legs up and kicking straight out. There was a sickening crack of bone as Blondie went flying back, and Kinard lunged to his feet, catching the charging vampire by the back of his shirt just before he crashed into Evan’s barrier. Despite himself, Evan stumbled back a step, losing his concentration on the fire and having to summon the flames a third time. His head was pounding now, sweat dripping down his face…God, he was not looking forward to the headache this was going to leave him with.

But he needed to live long enough to have to deal with the aftereffects of this.

Kinard whirled around, still holding the vampire and flung him towards Blondie with another animalistic roar. He looked over his shoulder again, his scarlet eyes finding Evan’s, and Evan grit his teeth, giving him a shaky nod of reassurance.

Blondie and his lone remaining companion climbed slowly to their feet, fangs bared, faces twisted with rage. Suddenly, though, Blondie cocked his head as though he heard something. Kinard whipped towards the bank of elevators and tensed, crouching like he was getting ready to spring again. Blondie chuckled, a sick sort of smile spreading on his face.

“Whoops. Should’ve taken my offer, brother.” Then he slammed the stairwell door open, and he and his companion vanished, taking a running leap straight over the railing and disappearing from view.

The elevator chime sounded, the doors sliding open to reveal a new group of people. Four this time, but Evan’s breath caught in his throat. All of them were witches. All of them in military-style jackets with the sigil of the SoCal high coven emblazoned on the shoulder. The one in the lead—an older Hispanic woman—reeled back in surprise, her mouth falling open as her eyes landed on the body of Greenway’s familiar, then snapped to Kinard.

“Kill it!” she shouted, throwing out a hand towards Kinard.

Evan was already dizzy and drained with the amount of magic he’d just used, the strain of casting so many spells so quickly grating over his nerves. Even so, he knew better than most what a high coven cleaner crew looked like. And just how uninterested they usually were in talking. He acted on instinct.

The barrier dropped and he lunged toward Kinard, grabbing the vampire’s hand tightly and screaming the only spell he could think of to save them both.

His magic erupted around them in a swirling orb of white light, and he had no time to aim it, no time to structure the spell and give it direction. He cried out the transport spell and the only thought in his head was: safe. Safe, safe, safe, safe.

The temp agency’s offices dissolved in a shimmer of light and a sensation he hadn’t felt in years enveloped him. He was falling, falling, failing, tumbling head over heels and the only solid thing, the only anchor he had was the feel of Kinard’s hand in his. His stomach dropped, his head swimming with the energy a transport spell took.

The spell dropped them with a thud, the white light fading and leaving sunspots dancing in Evan’s eyes. Or maybe it was just the dizziness from the strain of casting. He blinked hazily, a confused sort of shock running through him like an electric current when he realized he had transported them back to Kinard’s loft. They were standing in the middle of Kinard’s living room. What…

“Holy shit,” Kinard breathed, turning to look at Evan with wide eyes that had shifted back to their usual dark blue. They widened even further, and suddenly Kinard was standing right in front of him. “Evan? Fuck, are you all right?” he demanded.

Dimly, he realized it wasn’t sweat that was dripping from his nose and running down over his lips and chin. Shit. He’d overdone it. He’d overdone it bad. The floor seemed to be tilting under his feet and without thinking he reached up and steadied himself against Kinard’s chest.

“Evan? Talk to me,” Kinard continued urgently, and yeah…yeah, he really should say something. Or at least take a step back from the vampire—especially with his nose bleeding like a damn faucet.

He went to do that, and his knees folded underneath him entirely without his permission.

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