#for the last 2 weeks or however long it has been since he dropped that summer collection video

[cecoeur]

Vacation boyfriend strikes again

[queenofmistresses]

Adam’s third wife

A/N hi guys! First hazbin hotel fic, I did a vote and many of you chose Adam x reader so here we go! Let me know what you think and I’ll be able to do a part 2!!

There was a knock on the hotel door and Charlie excitedly rushed to answer it- there had been more and more sinners coming to the hotel wanting to try redemption ever since the last extermination, and she was excited to meet the next one! The last thing she was expecting however was this, Adam (first man, original dick, remember him?) standing at the door looking like he hadn’t slept or eaten in a week. He probably hadn’t. He looks panicked, he looks scared.

“Charlie sweetie is everything okay? Do you need any-“ Lucifer walks over to the door where they’re standing and sees why Charlie isn’t excitedly touring the hotel, and his eyes begin to turn red, clearly angry.

“Please.” Adam says, out of breath and looking like a guinea pig standing in the middle of a busy road. “You have to help me find her.” He begs. Lucifers eyes widen and go back to their usual colour, and Charlie looks down at her dad in confusion.

“What makes you think I know where she is? And if I did, why in hell, would she want to see you?” Lucifer responds, the picture of composure now he knows why Adam is here.

“Please. I know she hates me. But she’s all I have left.” Charlie is still looking down at Lucifer confused, silently asking what is going on.

Lucifer rolls his eyes. “So once again she’s a last resort, I see. You didn’t deserve her then and you certainly don’t deserve her now.” Lucifer begins to shut the door before Adam presses his foot in the way.

“I know. I’ve regretted it all since she left but how can I fix it if I can’t even find her?” Lucifer still looks like his mind is made up but Charlie looks at Adam, at his sad and helpless face and can’t help but pity him.

“Dad help him, that’s what the hotel’s for, right? What if he can change?” Lucifer looks up at his daughter and sees how much hope is in her eyes, “If he’s come back as a sinner he’s one of our people now right?” She points out.

He looks over at Adam again who is looking just as pitiful as before. “Fine, you can come inside and I’ll help you.” Lucifer begins to open the door, “but if you try to hurt anyone in here, you’re out okay? This is your only chance.” Adam nods violently, swearing he won’t hurt anyone and walks in behind Lucifer and Charlie.

Lucifer tells him to stay in the lobby while he deals with ‘something’, leaving him in the hands of Charlie and every other person he saw at the extermination. Shit. “So who are you trying to find?” Charlie asks, grinning up at him as Vaggie walks over, wrapping her arm around Charlie’s waist protectively. At Charlie’s question she looks up at Adam, seeing his nervous face and smirks.

“Really? You think she’ll want to see you?” Charlie looks at her and her mouth drops, clearly hating the fact that 2 people know something she doesn’t.

“No. But I have to try right?” Adam mutters out, embarrassed.

“Vaggiee tell meee.” Charlie begs and Vaggie throws her a playful eye roll and smile.

“Adam’s on the hunt for his ex.” She says smugly, making Adams cheeks heat up. Charlie looks even more confused.

“Eve?” She asks, to which Vaggie shakes her head. “Well surely it’s not my mother, no one seems to know where she is, so my dad couldn’t help.” She thinks out loud. “He has another ex?”

Vaggie nods affectionately and god does Adam want to leave, he’s been alone too long to watch this. “They didn’t meet til he died, she’s heaven born, but she fell.”

Now he wants to leave even more, he can feel Vaggie glaring daggers into the side of his head, he can’t look at them, ashamed. “What happened?” Charlie asks softly, and Vaggie sighs sadly.

“That’s her story to tell, and his I suppose but he’d never admit what really happened. You should ask her when your dad speaks to her.”

Things feel awkward after that, everyone in the lobby had clearly heard the conversation and he felt ashamed. Mostly about what he had done all those years ago. He thought about it often, he thought about trying to find her in the exterminations but couldn’t bring himself to it. He didn’t want to see the pain on her face again. He couldn’t bear it.

Lucifer came back and walked over to them, and Adam looked at him with the smallest glimmer of hope. “I can take you to her. She might not want to see you, in fact I would say it’s more than likely she doesn’t but I can take you there.”

“Thank you.” Adam breaths, he can’t believe he’s thanking Lucifer, the devil. But if it means he can see her again, he would do almost anything.

Lucifer takes them to his castle, and Adam feels a pang in his chest at the idea that she’d stay with him, but he wasn’t surprised. They had been friends before he fell, so it was only natural that she went to him for help. Charlie seems confused about being her, which Adam thinks is extremely interesting but can’t bring himself to dwell on it when she was right on the other side of those doors.

They all walked into the empty looking place and Lucifer snapped his fingers turning the lights on, to a dull light, muttering at how ‘she’ doesn’t like it bright. Adam remembers that about her.

Lucifer calls out her name loudly, announcing he’s back. “Lucifer! Hi! I’ll be down in just a moment, what’s the surprise you texted about??” A voice yells back. Adam, Charlie and Vaggie all shoot Lucifer a look, why had he said he had a surprise?

“It’s down here, come and see!” He yelled back before muttering, “don’t get too excited…”

“What was that last bit?” She yelled again before she appeared at the top of the stairs. And then she froze, staring at Adam. “Well that’s a crap surprise.” She deadpans, making Vaggie and Lucifer have to stifle their laughter back. “I was expecting a new duck.” She raises an eyebrow towards Lucifer as she walks down the stairs.

“I didn’t say it was a good surprise.” Lucifer tries to save himself as y/n gives him a look telling him to shut up.

“You must be Charlie.” Y/n smiles walking up to her and shaking her hand. “Your dad talks about you a lot.” She whispers and winks at Charlie.

Y/n immediately draws away and pulls Vaggie into a tight hug. “It’s been too long,” she says as she pulls away, “though I have to say I was sad when I found out you’d been banished here too.”

Vaggie smiles softly, “It’s okay, I found something better then anything up there.” She indicates towards Charlie with a soft smile, making Charlie visibly melt. Y/n smiles in complete understanding and steps back as Charlie pulls Vaggie into a hug and clutches onto her.

Then she approaches Adam and her smile drops suddenly. “Hello Adam.” He looks shocked for a moment before remembering he’s being spoken to and stumbles over his words, bringing a hand to scratch the back of his neck.

“I- er, um, hi y/n.” He finally settles with, looking sheepish. “Ho- how are you?” He asks quietly. She raises an eyebrow at him.

“I’m fine. Clearly better than you.” She looks up and down is figure, and brings a hand up to his hair to take out a stray twig caught in the mess. Adam watches her every movement with complete awe, looking surprised she’s touching him. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t…” He starts, then seems to rethink. “I needed to see you.” She scoffs and looks away rolling her eyes.

“7 years later? You do remember why I’m here right?” He nods and averts his eyes again, looking at the floor.

“I’m sorry.” He says which leaves her stunned. Her eyes widen and she looks over at Lucifer as if to check she hadn’t imagined it to happen. “I didn’t mean for it to happen the way it did. I didn’t know Sera would-“ he sighs. “I made a mistake.”

“That’s an understatement.” To that Adam nods, not saying anything. “So what? You wanted to say hi? You’ve done that now.”

“I wanted to know you’re okay. I know you hate me and I deserve it but I’ve wanted to find you everytime I’ve been here since it happened, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. But, you’re okay?” She nods. “Good, I’ll um… I’ll go.”

He turns away, starting to walk away when she sighs, “Wait.” She says and he stops turning back towards her, looking confused. “You won’t survive out there, you look like you’ve been sleeping in the streets since you arrived. If it’s fine with Lucifer you can stay here tonight and I’ll find you someone to stay. Somewhere else. Away from me.”

“You’re sure?” He says, eyes wide with hope. She looks over at Lucifer who nods at her and she looks back at Adam and nods. “Thank you.” He smiles nervously.

[moodymisty]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕸𝖊

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 soon

Author's Note: Hi... I finally finish this part. The last two are actually fairly close to being done, I was just really held up on this one. It's not my favorite, but I just had to get it done.

Summary: A Night Lord becomes interested in you while you stand under the eyes of your Salamander guardian, and you find yourself stuck between two titans.

Relationships: Yandere Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere Night Lord

Warnings: Hints of nsfw at points, Yandere, Size differences, Very toxic suffocating relationship(s), Some knight/princess dynamics, Demeaning language, Both these guys have hero complexes, Violence blood and bruises and possibly death to say without spoilers

Word Count: 1376

Ever since the moment you met him, Lev has been your shadow whenever Ralkan isn’t around. 

Every time, not long after you leave your quarters, he seems to find you.

Whereas the Salamanders have rigid training regimens they must abide by every single day- though day is a bit of a loose term in the depths of space - it seems the Night Lords are largely left up to their own devices as you travel to their destination.

You suppose it makes sense, daily training wouldn’t do much for them other than entertainment; These Night Lords are clearly the best of the their genestock, brought aboard to show the Salamanders who they were working with.

Ralkan had been extremely displeased with you when you’d called this all a pissing contest. The much younger Salamander in your company at the time had snickered at your joke before getting quickly reprimanded and sulked his way back to the firing range.

But as much as he denied your comment and attempted to dissuade any ill will between the two legions as merely the occasion disagreement, you've heard from around the ship that attempts to keep things amicable however have largely failed. You’ve heard rumors of the Night Lords getting into fights with Salamanders, barking and goading confrontation like rowdy, feral street dogs.

Ever since Lev had an altercation with a Salamander- you don't even know if he was the first one to do so- it seems to have only gotten worse. And you still have at least another two weeks in travel before you reach your destination, with everyone trapped in here like fish in a barrel.

At least the Salamanders have weapons, the baseline humans aboard the ship have been forced to shuffle around and avoid eyesight of any Night Lords, and pray they don't stick out of the crowd.

Your conversations with the others aboard the ship might be brief, but you know that some have gone missing. As if the implications let out by Lev's cohorts at the time of your first meeting hadn't already queued you in on it.

Sitting at your desk in the midst of some monotonous work you glance to your left, leaning over to open a drawer and reveal the contents.

The centerpiece of them all is a Night Lord combat knife. The metal shines, but far less that you would expect it to. It's like it eats the very light that touches it. You kept it hidden, Emperor forbid Ralkan found it, but...

You didn't want to throw it away either.

You could hear the sound of the pipes thrumming as you looked up at Lev, and he looks down on you. A serf passed by behind him at a quick pace; Even quicker when Lev turned just slightly at the neck to watch them and make sure they moved along.

He'd found a moment in-between moments- the few seconds where Ralkan wasn't watching - to find you. Perhaps that should unsettle you. But he's given you the first real conversations you've had in awhile besides Ralkan, and you couldn't help but pause.

Ralkan is a safe embrace, Lev is a precarious drop; But you keep looking over the edge.

"You look tired," He said, looking down at you with lazy eyes. He always looks somewhat sleepy and unimpressed himself.

"I was going back to my quarters to sleep, until you stopped me." He grew a smirk that showed sharp, near overgrown canine teeth.

"Maybe you should tell that Salamander of yours to back off then."

You crossed your arms across your chest like a self-assuring hug and focused on the bat wings stretched across the chestplate of his armor.

"Do you know he always has eyes on you? Even when he isn't around? Even his brothers are watching you."

You assumed he's been having trouble getting a moment where it's just you; Many have, not just him. Ralkan has watched you so intently since Lev started sinking his talons into you, and despite finding comfort in him keeping the Night Lord with unknown intentions at bay, you also find yourself tugging away for just an inch of space.

Unfortunately, that space leads right into Lev.

"...His name is Ralkan."

You swallow a knot in your throat. As much as you knew you could talk to Ralkan, push back against some things he said, you had no idea where Lev's limits are; What words might make him decide you're more fun as toy he can break than one he's gentle with.

"Here."

Lev reached to his belt and pulled a knife from it, tossing it in the air gently to grab it by the blade tip and push it out towards you. You didn't touch it, leaning away and staring at it like it's diseased. It might as well be; You don't know what unsaid intentions you'd be accepting if you took it from him.

"I saw your Salamander gave you something," You assumed he was talking about a small trinket Ralkan had made at the forge for you, one of a few. The necklace that dangles around you neck at all times now was also from him.

A practice with things more delicate, he had said.

"Here's something of my own. Don't lose it."

You hadn't lost it, but it had taken some hiding to keep it out of Ralkan's sight. You knew that if he saw it, the rough and disgusting gift- much unlike Ralkan's delicate one - would be gone in an instant.

Perhaps you shouldn't care, it's from an astartes you barely know, but something about it just makes you want to keep it.

Your entire vision as been Ralkan over these past few months. Especially these recent weeks since Lev arrived. The sight of something, someone else is almost enthralling- no matter how dangerous. You've caught yourself looking at the knife multiple times now, remembering the way Lev's armoured fingers wrapped around sharp edge of the blade as he gave it to you, even once having to slam the drawer shut quickly just before Ralkan entered your room to take you somewhere.

He hasn't caught wind of the knife itself yet, but you have a feeling he knows you're hiding something. He's given you openings to say, but you've declined them all. You assume he knows Lev is somehow finding you and is hoping you'll tell him how, what rat holes he's using to get to you, and it frustrates him that you won't.

He probably thinks the astartes is threatening you to not tell him. Rather than that you don't want to.

You close the drawer, hearing the contents jingle around while sighing.

You'd curse even coming aboard the Flamewrought, but you can't deny the advantages of being here. Your work, the people you've met, though most of those people are gone; Ralkan is almost all that remains. You speak to some of his men at times, but the interaction is always brief and controlled.

“Where’s your Salamander now, little one?” 

You suddenly burst up from your chair, it sliding with a hideous squeal as you hit it with the back of your knees and nearly stumble over. Lev meanwhile stands in the doorway, watching before stepping inward. You take a step backward as his right hand reaches out to slam the door controls and shut it behind him.

“He left you all alone in here?” 

You hold your hands close to your chest as if trying to protect yourself, watching him stare at you with black eyes.

“These are my quarters, he doesn’t stay here.”

Lev scoffs and rolls his eyes. He steps closer, ignoring the way you step back to try and maintain the distance. Seeing him in the halls is one thing; There's a chance a Salamander could see you in distress and help you, or you could scream and try to run, but here you're far out of the way of everyone else by design, and with nowhere to even try fleeing to.

"I'm sure he would choose otherwise, had he the chance. He keeps a very close eye on you, you know. He'd be quite disappointed you left the door unlocked." You do know, quite well in fact, and reiterate as such.

"I'm... Well aware of how through his guardianship is."

He must find either you or the situation funny, and laughs.

"What then, does his Salamander duty and rigor prevent him from going any further? Or do you have someone else already, and he's forced to keep his hands to himself?" He laughs again, but it comes out like an indignant snort.

"A pity, I'm sure it makes him furious having to spend so much time protecting a little thing like you and not even get to enjoy it."

It's cold in this room, always is- the entire ship is chilled, recirculated air - and it makes you able to feel the noticeable heat radiating from his body and his armor as he approaches you.

He smiles, leaning in closer. You know you're out of space when your shoulderblades finally knock against the wall.

Closer again. You can feel his breath on your face, how his long hair tickles your skin. Even closer and his stubble rubs against your skin, burning it.

His lips press against yours and you whimper into his mouth, a noise that makes him moan. Your fear spurs him on and he presses his lips to yours harder, feeling when your hands grab the seams of his armour and either try to helplessly push him away, or at least hold on until he's finished with you. The scar across his upper lip scrapes against yours much like his stubble does- everything about him is rough and jagged. Only when your whimpers get louder and start turning into muffled cries does he finally pull away, his teeth raking over your bottom lip before he pulls them away with a soft ‘pop’.

His smile his bright, like he just found a brand new toy.

“You are soft,” 

He says, twisting his brother’s words from weeks earlier. He has this look in his eyes, bright with curiosity, like he’s enthralled by something so simple. You can feel your heart slamming against your chest as you stand in his shadow, tears wanting to prick at the corners of your eyes. You know you have something he wants, but while he's being gentle, the vast unknown behind his eyes his terrifying. But is that unknown better that suffocating?

Lev seems to think it is, one his his gauntlets gripping your clothing as gentle as the armour allows him.

"I can take you, I'll get you away from him and I can keep you safe, all to mys-"

"Get away from her."

Lev pulls back, turning to see Ralkan standing in the opening doorway. His hand rests on the handle of his chainsword ready to pull the trigger and rev it to life, and the look he's giving the Night Lord is nothing short of hellfire.

"It is one thing to be on our ship, but I thought I was quite firm in my orders to keep your disgusting hands off of her, and keep your distance."

The smile Lev had quickly fades into an unimpressed and angry sort of look, wrinkling his nose. He doesn't move away from you, instead just turning.

"You don't get to order me around. I'm no brother of yours."

That struck a nerve of Ralkan's, you can instantly tell. His shoulders squared and his hand flexes around the handle of his chainsword, just tight enough that you hear the engine start to kick on and the chain's teeth rattle as it threatens to spin to life.

“I am from Nocturne. I am well versed in slaying dragons, a rat like you should be nothing at all.”

Lev rolls his eyes, unimpressed by Ralkan's formality. He finally turns from trapping you against the wall to give the Salamander his full attention, allowing you to scurry off to the side.

But while Lev seems casual his hand rests close to his own blade, and despite the smirk on his face and casual lean he is just as prepared to fight as Ralkan is.

“Even if you do kill me Salamander, it doesn’t change that you’re just hoarding her all to yourself.”

The two and their energies make this room feel microscopic in size, as Ralkan shifts and evens his footing. Lev straightens up slightly, putting his hands closer to the weapons hanging from his hip.

You stand back trapped in here with them, with no chance of racing by without either one grabbing you for themselves.

You can only step back, and hope that it doesn’t escalate any further than this.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for calling animal rescue/welfare on my mom who loves her pets?

My mom has 2 cats and 1 dog. I want to start off by saying that she doesn't physically abuse her animals.

They're in a weird state of being really emotionally spoiled and completely physically neglected. The dog sleeps in bed with her and is always on the sofa, doesn't get told off when he pees and poops in the house, and the cats are always getting cuddles. The cats are getting kinda fat because they're fed a lot.

My mom is an alcoholic and she doesn't look after herself or her home at all. It's been years since she showered or bathed, she goes weeks without changing her clothes except for when she works, her house is genuinely falling completely apart. Cupboard doors are falling off at the hinges and propped up with buckets, doors don't close, carpets are coming up off the floor, wallpaper is peeling, the shower door fell off and shattered, the toilet lid is cracked in half, the floors are too dirty to step on without shoes, the entire house STINKS of animal urine and there are stains everywhere. A couple of years back she had an insect infestation in one of the bedrooms.

Now, my mom loves her pets and really emotionally relies on them. Ever since I moved out she's been alone and has regressed even worse because when she's at home she has nothing to do but drink and watch TV. The pets are her only company most days.

However, her bad hygiene and home care translates to them. It has been YEARS since the dog was walked, and months since he even got a cursory trip over the road to the small grass area outside her house. His fur is always matted, and he recently had fleas (god knows how when he doesn't leave the house but there you go). He has bald patches of fur missing. He pees and poops all over the floors and carpets because he just doesn't get let outside to do it enough - and he runs away or hides when you find it so he 100% knows he's not supposed to, he just doesn't have a choice because he's not able to go into the garden. His claws are always so long they're bothering him when he walks, and as gross as it is to describe there have been COUNTLESS times I've visited and he's had literal shit caked onto his fur around his tail because he's had diarrhea and when I've pointed it out that he needs to be washed my mom brushes it off with "It's only a little bit" and continues to let him onto the bed/couch.

The cats are mildly better off because they can clean themselves, but their litter trays are always OVERFLOWING - like, genuinely, mountains of cat poop piling up in the trays to the point where they're going on the floor because they don't have room in the tray - and one of them is sleeping in a bed that is Caked in vomit stains, clumps of hair, other miscellaneous marks, all of that.

I've called someone about it before when I still lived there, and a woman did stop by to check it out and told my mom that the cat litters were unacceptable, but my mom just lies to them. According to her the dog gets walked twice a day without fail, gets a ton of enrichment, everything, and you can't really prove her to be lying. The woman told her she'd drop by in a week to check on the litters, my mom kept them clean until she came back and gave the okay, and then just went right back to neglecting them and nothing was done about it.

I have no idea what to do anymore but I want to call again and really impress upon them that they're not being cared for. I sent photos and video evidence last time along with an explanation, but it doesn't seem like it got me anywhere at all. I just don't know what else to do. I've brought up the idea of taking at least the dog with me to my new place (it's very nearby so she'd still be able to visit him and I'd be able to walk him up to her house), but she VEHEMENTLY objected and told me she'd never be able to let him go.

I'm not sure what it would do tbh, even disregarding that she'd probably just get a new pet I would be genuinely worried she'd lose all interest in life if they were taken away.

TL;DR Mom's alcoholism means she doesn't look after her pets and they're not being cared for at all, but taking them away would severely impact her mental health.

WIBTA for calling animal services on her again?

What are these acronyms?

[writingsforwhatever]

magnolia (m.s.) part 1

part 2 part 3

summary: reader has a friends with benefits arrangement with matt (what is there to explain?)

genre: ANGST

word count: 1.4k

a/n: suggestive content? You know what to do, ladies. This is fiction.

The abrupt chill in her apartment struck her hard, wrapping around her like an icy shroud. The stark white walls defining the living room while the vibrant green accent wall provided a homey space for her little coffee bar. It wasn't just the cold; it was the haunting silence that can be heard, a clear contrast to the lively college days where laughter filled every corner of the bright, inviting space with friends.

Autumn had passed, and she found herself rummaging through Matt's old university sweaters from the depths of her closet, seeking solace in his familiar scent during these lonely, frigid days in Boston. She longed for his return, yearning for the warmth of his presence to fill the void around her.

Walking on the cold tile floors, her footsteps echoed softly as she wandered through the apartment, her eyes catching sight of the slightly tilted photo frame showcasing her and her friends from high school. It bothered her, yet she couldn't fix it herself. That was a Matthew Sturniolo chore—he knew where her toolbox was and was the only one capable of reaching it. Memories flooded back of him building a cozy nook by her large windows where she loved to read, along with the white wooden bookshelf he'd carefully chosen in some vintage shop in Cambridge, a thoughtful gift from him. She remembered him telling her that he knew she would like it as the sole reason behind his choice.

She sighed, her gaze drifting to the notebook he had left behind months ago. He had texted her about it, asking if she had seen it, and she confirmed its safe place, nestled securely within the confines of her living room's coffee table. Tomorrow's agenda included a visit to her recently married sister's place. Her plan was simple: gather the homemade cookies Matt always loved, just in time for his arrival.

Meanwhile, his absence lingered as he went on a short trip to Canada with his brothers. A friend had called her two nights ago about seeing Matt with a woman in his arms and letting her know that the girl is somewhat familiar. The familiarity of the girl struck a chord; perhaps she was someone from their college before. Despite this revelation, she remained indifferent. The timely presence of her friend during this seemed almost too coincidental. Yet, she made a conscious decision not to confront Matt about it; after all, he was entitled to date or engage in relationships with whoever he wishes.

Their dynamic was crystal clear as the sunny skies that had once bathed the University of Massachusetts where they had agreed that their relationship is nothing more than a remarkably intimate friends with benefits. This is an understanding they had solidified long ago.

Nine hours away from her by land, Matt found himself gazing at the mesmerizing skylines of Toronto, contemplating whether to reach out to her, to check in, or ask if she had followed through with her plan of delivering the freshly planted flora to his mother, just a short 10-minute drive from her place. However, he opted against it, choosing instead to listen to Chris's friends discussion about their new clothing brand.

When he returned home, she was already calling him, asking to pick her up. The beauty of her tone wrapped around his heart, infusing it with a comforting warmth. Confirming she had indeed brought the plants, and now nestled beside their sofa, a gesture his mother had kindly embraced.

She wore a short blue drop-waist dress, a cardigan draped over her arm, her smile radiant under the sun's glow. From his vantage point in the car, Matt watched her take her time descending the small brick steps of her apartment. It had been a week since he last saw her; she had ventured off to Davis, California, to visit an aunt she hadn't seen in ages, just before his trip up north.

"Look at you," he greeted her with a grin, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her entire presence as she entered his freshly cleaned black SUV. "Is that new?"

Matt's thoughtfulness was a trait she adored about him. It was as if he had committed every book and item she owned to memory. She often reminded herself to give him credit for it one of these days. And he wasn't just thoughtful; he was undeniably sweet too. His gestures, both big and small, resonated deeply—like carving out a cute little space for her plants or surprising her with a spatula simply because he knew it would complement her assortment of black kitchenware.

"Do you like it?" Her smile gleamed, greeting him with a subtle kiss on his cheeks.

"I absolutely love it."

"Thank you. Got it from that newly opened shop down the street. A lovely grandmother was selling it—really sweet lady," she shared.

Matt chuckled at her detailed story. His smile never wavering, her perfume engulfing him wholy, the smell of lazy Sunday mornings, soft skin, and fresh linen—just the way he liked it. "You bought it because she seemed sweet?"

"Not exactly. I got it because it's your favorite color," she said casually, making him raise his eyebrows. Glancing briefly at her and then back to the road, his eyes met hers. "Oh, really?" he teased lightly.

Matt sensed her slight withdrawal at his tone, her revelation perhaps making her uncomfortable, yet it was exactly what he wanted, everything he yearned to hear, and more.

"Uh-huh," she replied, shifting her gaze out the window. "Anyway, how was Canada?"

She was good at this game; skilled at cutting the conversation off faster than you can snap your fingers.

"It was okay. Nick and Chris didn't like Tim Hortons," he chuckled at the memory of Nick's expression.

"Expected," she replied, shaking her head. "Did you see Chris's friends? What were their names again?"

"John and Sam. They seemed intrigued by Chris's new releases and ideas, so it's a good sign for him."

"Ah, that sounds promising," she agreed with a nod. Sneaking another glance at him, she ventured, "Did you meet anyone else?"

It was a simple question, yet she felt herself tiptoeing over an invisible line, feeling an odd tug at her heart as she admired him, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the setting sun.

Matt took a moment, eventually settling on a simple "No," choosing not to mention the woman that occupied his bed for a night. He didn't want to risk spoiling the moment; it already felt perfect when he saw her smiling and walking out the door earlier. He knew she would ask more if he said yes, but he also knew how awkward it would become. It would lead to an uncomfortable conversation, especially given her reluctance to delve into his intimate details with other people.

She never wanted to hear about where he learned a new position or style in bed, even though he sensed she was curious and a little bit hurt. He could feel it in the subtle withdrawal of her body between the sheets and the shift in the mood between them. Similarly, he refrained from asking about the oversized shirts, far larger than her size that he spotted one time in her laundry basket while he helped with her chores. It was not his.

They had learned to navigate this arrangement over the years smoothly. Their shenanigans with other people aren’t crazy but they both know it happens.

He missed her so much during his time in Canada, which led him to talk to the brunette at the bar. To his surprise, she was from their old school, a friend of a friend, now living up north. Everything about the encounter seemed hazy, the way that the woman talked and acted reminded him of her. She was all he could think of, day and night, night and day. It felt like ages since they had seen each other, ever since she visited California and him for Toronto.

Matt reached a breaking point with their casual arrangement. It had become too much for him especially when he saw the girl collecting her clothes on the ground that morning. That same day, after he calmed down and talked it out with Nick and Chris, he felt the urge to call her and apologize, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what for—they were not officially together.

As he sat on the plane, heading back to Boston, he made a firm decision. He was determined to put a label on their relationship and ask her to be his girlfriend.

She nodded in response, pushing aside the ache in her heart caused by his lie. Yet, she silently thanked him for his discretion, grateful that he hadn't mentioned it—she preferred not knowing.

"Okay. Where did you say you wanted to take me again?"

~

special mention to my bestie @querenciasturniolo lol thanks for always supporting me mwa

[raisunomii]

today, garroth ro'meave.

[a drabble preceding garroth faking his death, as i see it.]

The castle is silent. The castle has been silent since Garte left. Garroth didn't ask where he was going. He didn't care, as long as the shouting stopped.

The silence screeches like a wyvern.

RO'MEAVE ROYAL RESIDENCE, O'KHASIS, 5 A.M.

It's cold, Garroth thinks the moment his eyes snap open. He's always been an early riser. His feet against the cool stone-brick that comprises his bedroom floor is familiar, but is never welcome. He makes his way across the room regardless, stumbling to the bathroom. He strikes a match, his oil lamp lighting seconds later.

Stubble is the enemy.

He drops his blade on the sink when he's finished.

Sometimes Garroth wakes before the servants. Today, however, is not one of those days. The halls are as lively as ever- that is to say, stray whispers echo through the walls, but one can never be sure if they come from the wind or some creature.

And his mother has never been one to talk to herself.

RO'MEAVE ROYAL RESIDENCE, O'KHASIS, 6 A.M.

"Mother," Garroth says, maintaining his distance. "Did you sleep well?"

Zianna does not face him. She hasn't seen him, these past few weeks, not for lack of physical closeness. Garroth is sure the cityscape is a more favorable view than him. The sunrise is always beautiful.

He takes a few steps forward and guides his mother away from the window.

"Back to bed," he whispers, but he's sure she hasn't slept. He ignores the purple mottling her left cheekbone. Dad's gone now.

Breakfast is hearty.

THE TRAINING GROUNDS AT O'KHASIS, O'KHASIS, 8 A.M.

Slash, parry, pass. Slash, parry, pass. Again. Slash, parry, and if he's lucky, he won't think of Nicole.

Garroth can't remember the last time Irene favored him with 'luck'. His brother's always had that honor.

"Brother."

And he shall appear.

Garroth sheaths his blade. Zane is in full attire, Garroth notes. Wonder who he killed today. Must've been clean- his robes are still white.

"Well? Speak if you will," Garroth instructs, jutting up his chin for a mere second. Zane's gaze is full of disgust. Another day.

"A letter from Scaleswind found its way to my hands," Zane pauses to take in Garroth's expression, carefully taking in the slightest twitch of his brother's brow. "Nicole is set to come in a week."

Garroth nods. "I look forward to it."

He turns back to his craft, hoping Zane will leave, or at the least, be mindful enough not to stab him in the back. Slash-

"Mother slept the night," Zane says, "or at least some of it."

"I sent her to bed this morning." Parry. He can feel Zane's spirits drop. Pass.

Zane's boots crackle against the dirt as he leaves.

RO'MEAVE ROYAL RESIDENCE, O'KHASIS, 6 P.M.

Gnawing hunger is quickly welcomed once one realizes it keeps the mind off of unwanted betrothal. This is why Garroth has delayed dinner to stew in his own sorrow. Quite literally- the bath is much too hot today. What were the servants thinking?

His skin is red. Lady Irene.

The doorknob to the bath jiggles and Garroth has to fight back a groan.

"Bathing!" He shouts, though it doesn't make a difference, because the door swings open anyways. "Must you harass me while I'm in the tub?"

"I find you're less prone to fits of silence like this," Vylad says smoothly, dragging up a chair to the side of the tub. "Odd. Should I be cornered in a bath tub, I may refuse to speak at all."

Vylad is met with an eye roll. This does not deter him. He prattles on for about twenty minutes until Garroth demands he leave, at which point he wanders to the dining room to wait for Garroth to get dressed for a shared dinner.

Vylad often forgets to eat.

RO'MEAVE ROYAL RESIDENCE, O'KHASIS, 2 A.M.

Slowly and quickly does he in patterns scurry, as a mouse avoiding a scythe during harvest. His boots make soft noises on the brick which thunder in the silence of the O'Khasis morning. Moreso, in the temporary silence of the Ro'Meave Residence.

His bag is heavy and his sword clatters with movement. Every noise is detriment.

"Garroth?"

He whips around.

"Mother," Garroth says, standing what may be miles from Zianna, but he's sure is only a few meters. Their eyes do not meet, but he sees confusion all the same.

"What are you doing? It's late, too late for you to..." Mother trails off, making way for more screaming, intolerable silence.

It is the first time they've spoke in weeks.

"Training. Early morning training."

He can see his mother force back a scoff, because for all her despair, she's never been daft. Garroth knows that she doesn't have the energy to deal with his antics at the moment. She knows this as well, and sighs, turning away.

"Be safe," she calls.

"I will!"

[kokomyass]

Yuji Itadori ☆ Secrets

Yuji x Fem!Reader Genre: 🥀/☁️ Word count: 1433 Trigger warnings⚠️: violence, very minor swearing

synopsis: in which, a cute sushi date becomes a complete curse disaster....

a/n: hey!! yet another post from my wattpad account that I forgot about....anyway enjoy my yuji fanfic cause he's such a bean! oh and we are doing first person for a change 😼 🩷🩷

First person POV

"Okay then...me or Jennifer Lawrence?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Jennifer Lawrence." I gasped as my boyfriend of 2 years had chosen Jennifer Lawrence over me. 

"Find yourself a new girlfriend...hmph!" I smacked his arm playfully, acting offended as he just chuckled at me.

"Of course, I choose you, babe!" I smiled lovingly at my boyfriend as he fed me some of his sushi.

I have been dating my current boyfriend, Yuji Itadori, for 2 years now and to put it simply...he is the light of my life. When I met him, I accidentally dropped my phone in a river whilst feeding some swans, and he jumped in for me to get it, and from then I fell in love with him. We exchanged numbers, went on a few dates, and then he asked me to be his girlfriend, an offer I can't refuse. 

Yuji told me that he goes to a small school in the countryside that doesn't accept many students which was very obvious to me since I had met everyone in the school already...and there would be times where I wouldn't see him for weeks, longing for his cuddles and having to make do with his hoodie. However, I never questioned it as he always kept me updated.

Right now, I am on a date with him in a sushi restaurant that I had been craving for weeks and he had just come back from a two-week trip so it was a perfect time to have a romantic/chaotic date with him (it's never a dull moment with Yuji).

Second person POV

You had finished up in the sushi restaurant feeling very contented, walking down a path with Yuji hand in hand, making random conversations.

"I bet cherry blossoms are jealous of how gorgeous you look right now...cause you're looking pretty as hell!" Yuji said, making you burst out laughing, and despite the pick-up line being hella cringe, your face was dusted with a light blush as you snuggled up into him.

"I love you so much, Yuji," you said whilst inhaling his addictive scent.

"I love you mo-" Yuji stopped in his tracks, tightening his grip on you as he sensed the presence of a curse. 

"Yuji, babe, are you okay?" You felt extremely concerned as it was rarely that Yuji was as serious as he was now. 

"Y/N, go and hide, right now...it isn't safe here."

"Yuji...what is it?" Before you could question further, you felt an inexplicable force grab you. You turned around, pure horror taking over your usually calm persona. 

You let out an ear-splitting shriek as you saw a grotesque...creature...holding you up too high for comfort. It has a murky colour and had multiple eyes all looking at you. It was making wretched noises as its other malformed arms came to tighten its grip on you.

"Aghh! LET GO OF ME, YOU UGLY ASS!!" You slapped the hand that gripped you as it got tighter, making it harder for you to breathe. You slowly lost consciousness as the last thing you saw was Yuji, stretching your arm to him before passing out fully.

Yuji POV

As much as it truly pained me to, I had been lying to Y/N about a few things... especially what I actually do in my school. It was all for her protection because the thought of losing her forever is entirely worth keeping this big secret from her.

When I sensed the curse after our date, my heart plummeted. I could sense that it was very strong, and without someone's help, it would be quite difficult to fight the curse.

Before I knew it, the curse grabbed Y/N, making me panic as I didn't realize the extremely fast speed that this cursed moved at.

"Y/N!!!! HANG IN THERE!!" As Y/N lost consciousness, I ran and landed a strong kick on the curses face, immobilizing it but not enough for it to let go of Y/N.

The curse turns its arm into a sharp object and sends its arm flying, I can't dodge in time, so it jabs me in my stomach. Deep red blood pools out as my hands are tainted red from gripping my wound.

I look down, wincing in pain before it sends me flying into a nearby abandoned building. My body aches and throbs with pain as I am losing my strength from the wound and from the impact with the building.

As I try to get up, Sukuna appears on my cheek.

"How useless. You can't even defeat such a weak curse... how are you my vessel...and how is that foolish girl in love with you? Probably because she is rather useless herself...." Sukuna snarls, and I growl in pain and anger as Sukuna mocks my girlfriend. 

Suddenly, I feel Sukuna trying to take over my body, clearly being impatient and wanting to get the job done, but my willpower and flaming anger towards him stops that from happening.

"Don't ever insult my girlfriend again, asshole." I murmur, getting up using some Sukuna's power to fuel me.

The curse has made its way to me and held Y/N meters away from its mouth but I used all my power and speed with Sukuna's help and landed a roundhouse kick at its head, disconnecting the head from the body. 

Grey blood spurts out from where the curse's head should've been, and it slowly collapsed, dropping Y/N in the process. I caught Y/N before she hit the ground and felt her chest to find a faint heartbeat.

I let out a soft sigh as I jumped to a roof where it was safe. I held Y/N close to my chest worried she would remember the traumatic experience and may even want to leave me after finding out I lied to her...

First person POV

I stirred awake and immediately felt a horrible migraine, and my body throbbed with pain. I suddenly recounted the series of events...

"Agh... THE MONSTER! THE MONSTER!! WHERE IS IT? WHERE -" I was cut short by a tight hug and someone stroking my back tenderly. I felt something wet at my gut and saw blood... blood that wasn't mine.

Then I looked up and saw Yuji injured and panting looking at me with tears in his eyes, "Y/N, the curse is gone....it's okay now, it's okay..." Even though Yuji was consoling me, it sounded like he was comforting himself. I cupped his cheeks and wiped his tears away.

"My love, it's okay! Are you okay with your bleeding, Yuji!!" he nodded to say he was absolutely fine, "Please, I'm begging you, explain what happened. What are curses? Why was I going to die?" I looked him deep in the eyes, and even though I could tell his wanted to tell me, he looked pained to do so. He took a deep breath in and let out a heavy sigh, confessing everything to me, from school to his 2-week trips.

"I-I understand if you don't want me anymore, I lied and -" Before he could finish, I pressed my lips to his softly. He was shocked initially but melted into the kiss, finding deep comfort in it.

When our lips depart I smile at Yuji genuinely, "Yuji, thank you for saving me and telling me all this even if it hurts...and I guarantee you, I definitely don't want to leave you. I love you regardless....but promise me... you won't keep secrets like this from me ever again."

"I promise Y/N, I love you so much." Yuji hugs you tightly as you giggle and return the embrace.

"More than Jennifer Lawrence?" You hear Yuji laugh softly.

"Wayyyy more."

"I love you, Yuji." You both rest in each other's embrace, knowing secrets are a thing of the past.

A lil add on for yall:

Megumi arrived with Gojo, and they were greeted with the sight of you, and Yuji passed out in each other's embrace.

"Awww, would you look at that? How cute!! When are you gonna get a girlfriend, huh Megumi?" Gojo looked at Megumi expectantly with his hands on his hip 

"Gojo sensei, respectfully you are 13 years older than me and have no girlfriend." Megumi deadpanned.

"Ugh, you spoil sport..." Gojo sighed, feeling offended as they took you and Yuji back to get treated.

a/n: Thanks for reading my lovlies!! hope you enjoyed! don't forget to request!💜🎵💜🎵

[deadlynavigation]

Hello, I really enjoyed your m! Wednesday x reader stories. Can you write about how his s/o gets shocked by the amount of gifts his gives and the expensive family vacations he takes them? Forgetting that he and his family are loaded lol.

Money Well Spent

Fandom: The Addams Family

Pairing: Male!Wednesday Addams x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, mentions of seduction, rich people being rich

Author's Note: Wednesday is aged up in this- same as previous fics

Navigation

Your boyfriend had money. Was money. And it was getting ridiculous.

There were a couple of times he had crossed the line, a couple of times when he put a bit too much pressure on the already thin ice.

After a while, you kept a mental list of these moments.

-1-

It’s been almost a week since you last saw your boyfriend. Wednesday had accepted an offer for his work, but there was a catch- a weeklong business trip in New York.

Not that you blame him. From what he told you about the offer, it’s an amazing opportunity for both his position and his company, one that would benefit him for years to come. However, that doesn’t mean you can’t miss his gloomy presence and warm embraces from time to time.

So imagine your despair when he calls your cell, on the day he’s supposed to arrive back, informing you of a last-minute change of plans.

“So you’re staying another day.”

“With a heavy heart, cara mia.”

You sigh quietly, and it carries to the other end of the line. “I do apologize, Y/n. I didn’t account for further negotiations regarding the business deal.”

“It’s fine, Wednesday. It’s not that big of a deal- I’ve survived this long without you, haven’t I?”

“If only I could say the same, darling.”

And so here you were on a Friday night, watching some generic TV program and mulling over your to-do list for next week. If Wednesday were here, he’d kiss you until you forgot about it, claiming that the weekend is for you and him, not work.

After a bit of sulking, you hear movement near your apartment’s entrance. Probably the building settling. But as the mysterious sounds grow louder, you rise from the sofa, mind on high alert. You creep near the entranceway, eyes scanning for a weapon of some sorts.

“Y/n, are you home?” Wednesday’s voice echoes throughout the apartment as you pick up a particularly heavy shoe. Dropping it quickly, you make your way to the door, where Wednesday is leaning against the frame.

“Babes?”

“Darling.” He breathes in relief.

“You’re- back. I thought you had until tomorrow morning?”

“I was reminded once more of a man’s desire for money.”

You rub your forehead. “You bribed an agent.”

“I satisfied his materialistic desires.”

You stare at him for a minute before giving up trying to understand your boyfriend. Sensing your disapproval, Wednesday drops his luggage and pulls a small package from his coat pocket. It almost looks like a ring box, all black and ready to be opened.

“I understand your anger with me, Y/n. It is completely justified. However, this may make up for my tardiness.” He offers the box to you, face dead serious with a hint of anticipation. You take the box from him, opening it with steady hands. Wednesday has given you gifts before- expensive gifts. This better not be a repeat.

As the lid pulls back, a watch is revealed- a Jaquet Droz, from the look of it. You’re in love with it the second you see the sleek design. And though you’re tempted, you pull back into reality, facing your lover once more. He’s adopted the stance of a sheepish partner, knowing you would never allow yourself to buy this (but would want it all the same).

“You’re not buying me out with this.” You insist.

“Of course not, darling. I’d be disappointed if this was all it took.���

“And I’m expecting an apology.”

“In the morning. I was gone for a week, cara mia. Let me enjoy you right now, instead of the reminder of your absence.”

And so you sigh and grumble, but in the end, Wednesday has won your heart over with his loving words and actions and watch.

-2-

“Mr. and Mrs. Addams, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You say, muting the excitement in your voice for fear of them despising your expressive voice.

“The pleasure is ours. We’ve been waiting for Wednesday to introduce us to you, Y/n.” Gomez Addams replies happily.

“We’ve heard all about you from our son. All good things, of course. Tell us, is it true you’ve lit a spider’s heart on fire?”

“Mother, Father.” Wednesday cuts in. “Please don’t overwhelm them. We’ve only just arrived, and you’re picking them apart like they’re a deceased relative.”

“No, it’s fine.” You say, then lean over to your boyfriend. “You’re telling me that story later.”

“Of course.” Wednesday whispers, then turns back to his parents. “Shall we?” He gestures to the sitting room.

“Ah, yes. But before we do, your father has something for Y/n.”

Your eyebrows furrow. You turn to Wednesday, who is avoiding your glare in favor of picking a conversation with his mother, catching up quickly as Gomez goes to grab whatever it is he has up his sleeve.

“Here we are!” You all startle at Gomez’s loud exclamation in the room over. Clattering noises are heard before the father rushes back to you, Wednesday, and Morticia, holding a long object draped in velvety red fabric.

“This has been passed down to Addams’ lovers for generations. I gifted it to Morticia, my mother bestowed it upon my father, and her father… It’s been in the family for decades, and now it’s your turn to hold it.” And with that, he pulls what is possibly the most expensive-looking sword you have ever seen from the fabric, holding it out to you. Your eyes go wide as you look from the sword to Wednesday and back to the sword.

“Wow- thank you,” you marvel. Words cannot describe how beautiful the weapon is- and as you think of that, you almost snort at the irony. But it’s true. The sword really is amazing, jewels trapped in its metal as it glints in the moonlight.

“I would have told you, beloved, but that would ruin the surprise,” Wednesday murmurs into your ears as you accept the sword with a delicate touch. “You are holding thousands of dollars worth of beauty in your hand, yet it pales in comparison to you.”

You almost drop the sword as Wednesday takes on a seductive tone. You want to yell at him, that he is in front of his parents and this sword is worth more than all your organs combined, but damn, his voice-

“It’s an honor, Mr. Addams, Mrs. Addams.” You turn back to your hosts.

“Please, call me Morticia, dear.” Morticia smiles.

“And feel free to call me Gomez. You are part of the family now- and family uses first names.”

With that, they stride into the sitting room, expecting their son and his lover to follow. And you do- after you glare at Wednesday, drag him down by his coat lapels to kiss him heatedly, and hiss at him that you will be getting gloves to handle this sword.

-3-

“Pack your bags, cara mia.” Wednesday strides into your shared room, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes.

Your head rises from your book, eyebrows raised. “...Why?” You ask hesitantly.

“We’re going on a trip.”

You place your book down, not mentally prepared for Wednesday’s antics. “Kay, I’m gonna need a little bit more than that. You’re not just whisking me away to god knows where without any explanation whatsoever.”

Wednesday sighs dramatically as you wait, not moving to pack as he hoped you would. It’s a tense couple seconds, breeze fluttering in from the open windows as your gazes lock and a silent argument occurs.

Wednesday, surprisingly, breaks first. “To Spain,” he starts. “My father has friends there, and he thought it was high time he visited them again. With the whole family this time.”

Only the Addams Family could schedule an impromptu trip to another country with a snap of their fingers.

“See? That wasn’t that hard.” You coo sarcastically. “Now- what? I’m not technically family…”

Wednesday stops for a moment, taking your words in before walking over to where you’re perched on the sofa.

“Cara mia.” He murmurs, dropping to his knees in front of you. His fingers draw a path from your cheek to chin, settling there as he talks. “Look at me. You are family. My parents, however bothersome they may be, consider you the daughter they never had- and Pugsley hasn’t tried to put an arrow through your heart yet. You are family, as far as any of us are concerned.”

You breathe deeply for a moment, bathing in the romantic words of your lover. “All right, then.” The words tumble out of your mouth.

“Excellent. Now go pack.” Wednesday stands back up and goes to grab your suitcase.

That man would be the death of you.

[crookedt44th]

JR.2 HOME AGAIN | LMH

PAIRINGS ➳ lee minho x gender-neutral reader (cora)

GENRE ➳ friends to lovers ◦ slow burn ◦ heavy angst ◦ horror ◦ psychological thriller ◦ fantasy ◦ slight humor ◦ ghosts ◦ will add more later!

WARNINGS ➳ mental issues (derealization) ◦ memory loss ◦ inappropriate language ◦ suggestive themes, but no smut ◦ death ◦ gore(?) ◦ smoking ◦ lots of drug and alcohol use ◦ cruel society ◦ adult life crisis ◦ bad life decisions ◦ religious themes ◦ class struggles ◦ hallucinations ◦ will add more later!

WC ➳ 2,000+

STATUS ➳ Ongoing.

ABOUT ➳ After dropping out of college, Cora returns home to their small town of Stormvillie with the hopes of reconnecting with their friends they left behind and resuming their carefree previous life. However, things have changed since then. Their friends have grown up and changed, and home seems different now. The wind is getting colder and the leaves are falling. As the night gets darker, strange things are happening.

And there's something in the woods.

NIGHT IN THE WOODS SERIES

CHARACTERS AND THEIR STORIES

PREVIOUS JOURNAL

Change - Alex G started playing ...

How are you today?

I saw your friend’s band play

A little show last night

It’s not my thing, they were alright

"So you're saying that this August, you're moving off to college? Leaving this town behind? For college?" Minho made sure he understood what I said by saying it again. "Cora, please answer. Are you actually leaving us?" His tone hardens as he continues to look at me as if I had done something really wrong.

"Yeah, I am leaving in August for college in a city that isn't that far from here." I tried not to look annoyed with him. While it makes sense that he was upset, I wasn't about to cut off our communication.

"Why? I mean, good for you, but why there? You promised me that you'd be with me forever, but now you're leaving-"

"All right, Minho, you're getting too ahead of yourself. I'm leaving for college, not leaving you. Don't you think you're exaggerating?" I fiddled with my fingers and muttered, looking down, not even realizing that what I had said was harsh.

"Exaggerating?" He scoffed and became slightly irate, but before continuing, he took a long breath. "Cora, I don't think you're getting what I'm saying. You're right—I'm getting too worked up about this—but I'm actually worried about losing you."

I firmly closed my eyes, trying not to say anything that I would later regret. I remained silent for a minute to gather my thoughts before turning to Minho and spoke

"Listen, Minho. I promise to never leave you, and just because I'm moving away to attend college does not mean we'll stop talking. I just wanted to chase my dreams."

"To be honest, it's not really that."

I scowled at what he said and cocked my head to face him, who was turning away from me.

"Then what is it, Minho? Can't you just tell me?"

"I have to leave. I'm sorry." He hastily got up and fled the cafe before I could say anything further. I sat alone at the cafe, refraining from running to him. Could I chase after him? Or give him his space? Am I being too harsh?

It was all I thought about when I walked home. What does he mean? What is it that he couldn’t tell me? Even when I ranted to Jisung about it, he looked like he knew something. Shit, even Chan does. I feel a little left out, so confused, worried if I didn’t pay enough attention to Minho.

I wasn’t that dumb to not notice he has been trying to cut ties with me after our conversation. Even his parents and sister didn’t know what was going on with him when I visited his place, and told me that he has been wandering off somewhere a lot now other than his home. I took it as a hint that I should stop bothering him.

August came by so fast, I was ready to leave this town and still have not heard from him. He wasn’t there to bid me a goodbye before I hopped on the train.

Am I really leaving everything behind?

You were in my dream last week

I’d like to hear what you think

We passed by her house driving fast

The sun was shining on the grass

September 22, 8:46 p.m.

"How are you today?" He eventually broke the long silence. When I glanced back at him, he was still roasting the marshmallow, which was starting to become brown. His reddish-brown hair continued to fall over his face, nearly covering his eyes.

"Today, I felt a little happier." As I saw him place the marshmallow on top of the chocolate with the cracker beneath it, I finally responded.

"I'm glad," he grinned. "I can say I feel the same way."

I can't deny that I was a little awkward and perplexed sitting next to a guy who had been avoiding me for a while, even if I was smiling too. But I can’t just act like I wasn’t doing the same thing he did to me to Chan and Jisung.

“How was college?”

"Oh, it was okay. Not bad at all." I fiddled in my seat, not feeling the college talk. I did ask him something else even though I wasn't sure if it was proper to suddenly change the subject. "What about you, though? You work too, like everyone else these days."

Minho hummed, took another marshmallow to roast, and passed me the S'mores he had just created. "Yes, I work. I mean, everyone has to work for a living, right?" He laughed. "I work at my mom's coffee shop now; you should stop by sometimes."

"Oh, that's cool. I guess I should." I stuttered briefly, hoping he didn't notice, and then took a bite of my s'mores. The s'mores didn't taste very nice, though, because I could still taste the bitterness from my previous drink. Once more, I turned to face my right and watched him finishing his own and brushing the crumbs off his jeans. He clasped his hands and was about to speak until my name was called out.

"Cora!" When I turned to see where it was coming from, I saw Jisung sprinting up the hill to find me. I abruptly got up and raised my hand to grab his attention.

“Over here!”

"Hey, what's up?" When Jisung spotted me, his smile gradually disappeared when he noticed Minho sitting next to me. "Minho?" The uneasy feeling was beginning to return. I continued to glance at them, clearing my throat to break the ice.

Minho looked at me again after checking his watch and getting up from his seat. "Looks like I gotta go now," he said. "See you around?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." I scratched my head and nodded.

I moaned aloud as Jisung and I watched him go, disappearing into a crowd of people.

"Dude, you guys finally talked?"

"Well, until you fucking came, I guess, a little bit."

"My bad, dude." Jisung gestured with his hands. "You missed the fucking crazy fight, that's all I wanted to tell you."

"No way. Who?" I let out a gasp. Nothing like the good old days when Jisung and I would rush to witness a fight in high school, rooting for whoever was in the fight.

"I dunno, sh*t. Some two blondes." He hiccuped and squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh my god, it's getting to me."

"Dude, should we go home or—"

"Nooo! Let's drink more, kiddo!! We need to celebrate more now that you're home again!" He replied, cupping my face before grabbing my wrist and pulling me back into the crowd. After failing to find anything when reaching for the ice cooler once more, Jisung spotted another one that was sitting next to the lake. He handed you a beer and instantly began chugging his own. Totally forgot he’s a heavy drinker.

I straight away felt like puking after downing mine, but I chose to ignore the urge to do so. I recognized another song that had begun to play. "Dude, this song fucks!" I shouted for Jisung to hear me. Agreeing with you, he laughed heartily and made his way through the mob while dancing. I attempted to log on, but my headache was getting closer.

When I searched for Jisung, I realized that everything was becoming hazy and that I had already lost him. Some kids accidentally bumped into me as I was trying to take another sip of my beer, which caused the beer to spill on my shirt. I let out a long sigh and rubbed my eyes like a child, and suddenly I laughed at the memory of my dad's drinking days. I opened my eyes to see Minho talking to the most beautiful girl while he was leaning against the tree. I stopped laughing. Oh, he has a girlfriend.

I stood there and thought. Yeah, no. That's chill, dude. Yeah, absolutely fine. Like this is okay. No like–

The girl began laughing at something, perhaps one of his jokes, and she gave him a friendly shoulder jab as he laughed too.

Maybe I should have stayed.

I averted my gaze as I felt incredibly exposed. I raced to the lake and puked as soon as I felt like I was truly about to pass out, leaving my stomach throbbing and my mouth full of the worst taste. This is really horrible.

"Cora—holy shit" Dude, not that voice again. I laughed at Minho's worried expression as he helped me stand up from the ground, but I pushed him away. I kept slapping his shoulder while giggling at nothing in particular, and he continued to support my arm to keep me balanced.

"Cora, I think you should go home."

"You think you are so cool and," I hiccupped, "chaaarming. Every girl always thinks, woohooo cute boys! I'd love a cute boy in my life!"

Minho sighed and scowled as he made an attempt to get you out of there. "All right, let's just leave and talk," he said.

"You're a cute boy, too." I grasp his warm hands and ram my head into his shoulder. Minho froze at what you said, unable to comprehend the situation. My friends Jisung, Vanna, and Chan approached, shocked by what happened. "But I fucking hate cute boys!!"

"And it's not my fault that I'm a mess—I was and still am! I'm sorry, but I just wanted to pursue my own dreams, maybe become the best artist, musician, or both. And you never supported me!" I hit the elder boy's shoulder angrily, yelling at him over and over like a whiny kid.

Minho stopped your punches, "Listen, I'm sorry, I was going to apologize to you-"

"You were right; I should not have left you. You guys. I promised we'd stick together, but I fucking ruined it because I'm selfish and do my own thing instead."

“No, Cora, that’s not true.” Minho offered an explanation, but you interrupted him once more.

"I lied. Everything went so terribly wrong in college that I chose to fucking drop out because it was so awfuuuul. I locked myself in the dorm and failed all of my classes. Pizza, pizza, pizza, and pizza was all I ate. All these rich college students whose parents have paid for their tuition, and all they do is write trash and have sex with strangers every day. I'm not successful, but they are! Not to mention that stupid statue, that is meant to honor the founder but all I see are shapes, staring at me every day. So many different shapes. Nothing will ever work out for me; I'm a complete waste!" I shouted every word I could while covering Minho's neck with my fucked-out, red face.

“We never had a chance here, but I can’t go anywhere else.”

“...”

“I’m home again.”

“...”

I couldn't lift my head to look at him and see what his reaction was to what I had said since my head was pounding so much. To see whether he feels bad at all. Minho's silence, however, suggests otherwise.

"Woo!" Jisung shouted, encouraging my beautiful drunken speech from behind.

"Jisung, please stop." Chan gives him a look and then turns to face me, grabbing my arm. "Come on, you've probably had enough alcohol for tonight."

"Dude, I feel so sick." Then, before I could even attempt to reach the lake, I felt myself about to pass out once more and puked onto Minho's shirt. Again.

"Not again, Jesus fuck." Minho let out a groan.

"Just let's get you home, little one. Sorry, Minho; we will get you a new shirt this time." When Chan pulled me away from the boy and helped me in walking to Vanna's car, Minho was left standing and much more perplexed. Everyone was talking and spreading rumors. Great, another talk of the town. Again. Like the good old times.

You made me stop and leave the car

You pulled my sleeve, but not too hard

Remember when you took too much?

I didn’t mind being your crutch

"I will fucking kill you if you puke in this car.” Driving, Vanna issued a warning. I feel so numb, so broken, and so exposed. Being in the same car as someone who used to be my friend. A friendship that I completely screwed up.

"Sorry, I dunno what's going on with me." I muttered.

"You got your ass drunk after, what? Three cans of nasty beer?"

"Remember when we used to be best friends?" I mumbled once more, finding it more difficult to talk. Especially when I was so fatigued. "And I called you Nanaaa, and you used to call me Cocooo."

“When we were 8 years old?” Vanna gave me a quick glance before focusing on the road. “No, I don’t.”

"Do you remember when we used to go to that park every day and play on the swings there? We found this adorable little kitten under the playground, and we both kept her."

"Yeah, Moon, she died." Vanna replied with apathy.

I made a small sound as I was experiencing terrible pain throughout my entire body, including my head and stomach. "Why are you so mean to me?" I was trying really hard not to throw up when I felt like I was about to again.

"Oh my god, Vanna, I'm going to throw up. Tell your mama I'm sorry for puking in her caaar." I exhaled and put my head on the window.

"Oh my god."

"Whaa?"

"My Mom passed away."

I remained silent as I took in what she had just said. Shit.

"Oh."

"Oh? How the hell do you not remember that, Cora? She died from cancer. Senior year."

I didn't say anything, tears gathering in my eyes.

"Oh, college didn't work out for you? Well, I'm fucking sorry that it wasn't exactly what you wanted. That's too bad; I would have killed for that. I'd do anything, even if it meant kicking you out of this car to go to college."

I turned to peek out the window and sniffed.

"You left me for that insufferable piece of shit who acts like the world revolves around him. When my mother passed away, Cora, I had absolutely no friends and nobody to turn to. And you know that. But no, instead, you cared more about your other friends than me.”

I sobbed.

"Whatever, we're here."

I sobbed even more.

"Oh god, let me get you in." Vanna dragged me inside the home after getting out of her car and putting my arm around her shoulder. She eventually made it to my bed and carefully placed my body down, making sure I was comfortably tucked in. She places the trash can close by in case I throw up again.

"I'm sorry, I'm really a mess." Before I fell asleep, I mumbled my last few words.

With a sigh, Vanna placed her hands on her hips. "Dude, don't worry, it wasn't your fault."

She looked around my room and couldn't remember when she had been here before, but even though a lot had changed since then, it still felt quite familiar. There were a few cameras and a large number of pictures scattered on the floor. Big, small, vintage, digital. Her gaze fell on a picture, and she stooped to retrieve it. It was an old Polaroid of Vanna and me just before we started middle school, when we were around 13. Vanna had a heart drawn on her face with the words "BFF" written underneath.

"Life goes on, y'know." Gazing at the old Polaroid, where things were so simple, makes Vanna sad. "Sometimes, things aren't always supposed to go where you want them to.”

I loved you then

It’s not the same

I don’t like how things change

NEXT JOURNAL

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➳ sorry if it's a little too short! next journal will be a little longer i promise :) cora is very dense thats just how they r LOL and itll also become a little scary soon i promise

TAGLIST ➳ @estella-novella @melanctton

Send an ASK or COMMENT to be added in the taglist!

[midcenturypartum]

what happened with evinrude’s other partners? how did he and Miriam get to know each other? Thank you for the wonderful art.

Thank you for the interest and kind words! sorry for the late reply haha I ended up with a long answer dumping quite a bit of lore and got a bit sheepish. Initially I didn’t have plans to pair them with each other, it’s just one of those cases when you have two characters and are like hmm what if?

To start Evinrude and Mariam met because Mariam is a doula! she was originally a masseuse who began training due to the compassion she felt for pregnant clients, and a desire to provide them with care beyond prenatal massage, particularly those who struggle finding someone who will advocate for their reproductive rights.

She has no medical training of course, but she’s excellent at providing new parents with platonic love and support and often sticks with them for 2 weeks postpartum. Evinrude was her client for his first 4 children.

more about Evinrude's past partners under the cut but tw for death and reproductive abuse

Evinrude’s children have 3 different non-gestational parents. He was in a throuple with 2 loving spouses for most of his 20s. When they were ready to have children Anita was born, conceived with Gail, then Henry, Eleanor, and Theo, conceived with Thomasin. They worked and met at a textile & shoe manufacturer owned by Gail’s parents, where Evinrude learned his trade, and they had a collective goal of opening a small independent tailor & shoemaker workshop, despite Gail’s parents often interfering out of their desire to pass their business to him.

Gail and Thomasin are passed. They died due to a fire that broke out at the factory, caught up in rapid flames that spread through the highly flammable fabrics they worked with. Evinrude, primarily working with high flashpoint materials common in shoemaking, managed to get out in time.

Gail’s parents never approved of their only son’s queer-poly relationship, and not having any more heirs after his passing went after Anita, trying pretty ruthlessly to paint Evinrude as an “unfit parent incapable of providing for 4 children on his own.” This ordeal lasted for 2 years, and when the stress and instability started to affect his kids Evinrude was officially at his lowest. He became distant from everyone he knew when Gail and Thomasin were alive, including Mariam, and jumped too quickly into a new relationship with his attorney Oleander.

His initial attraction was due to the lawyer’s commitment to the case, as Oleander managed to bankrupt Anita’s grandparents with countersuits by not only Evinrude but several employees/families effected by the fire, with evidence that the disaster was preventable, forcing them to drop the custody suit.

Their attraction to each other was very strong during the case and they got married on a whim, but cracks began to show quickly. They were very different people with irreconcilable differences and did not get along. However Oleander, while indifferent, was at the very least not ugly to Evinrude’s kids so he stayed for the stability it brought to their lives. Violet and Carol were conceived with Oleander.

He had zero plans to have children with Oleander and had been very explicit with him about this before they married, so Violet was his first surprise/unplanned pregnancy. However, her birth helped ease some of the tension in their relationship, and things looked very hopeful.

When the novelty of a new baby seemed to wear off of Oleander, they both agreed (i.e. he convinced Evinrude) to have another under the false implications it would “fix” the marriage again, but their arguments merely escalated.

It was during one of these arguments that it’s revealed Violet’s conception was not an accident, and that Oleander had sabotaged Evinrude’s birth control. Evinrude began making plans to leave.

Since the ordeal with Anita the fear of his children being taken from him was and is always on his mind, so the day he left he had Oleander sign a document relinquishing parental rights to Violet and soon-to-be Carol, blackmailing him with information that Oleander had been embezzling money from his clients for years.

Evinrude is very proud, and struggles to ask for help. He reconnected with Mariam mostly to apologize for becoming distant with her. Mariam, thankfully, is an emotionally intelligent person, informing him that she was expecting a baby of her own and making him a deal where they help and support each other as single parents. Him and his kids ended up never leaving.

i hope to flesh them and their relationship out more as i continue to entertain them as a couple, i'm leaning towards something more queer-platonic as Mariam was originally created as a way to explore an ace/aroace person who chooses to have a baby. if you made it this far thank you for reading ;o;

[miloformula123fan]

I really want to see the arthur leclerc x verstappen! male! reader since we dont have much of him

okay, if you want something driver based instead of this mafia fic, I will be writing it at some point :)

also sorry this took me so long to get out I tossed a few options here and there before deciding on this one :)

Okay I came up with this so it’s a little different to the original moodboard, but if you want something accurate to the moodboard, see here

if you want to participate in my 100 followers event, look here :)

(hint hint: this closes on Thursday 1st March 0:00 GMT, so if you want to make a request do so soon because this is in a little more than a week when publishing this :))

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

Also…i know there’s all the shit going around about christian horner, i just want to say that i don’t condone his actions at all, and while I have left him in this fic, I am separating the character from the person.

also warnings: death, general mafia shittiness, homophobia, bad dad jos

arthur leclerc x male!verstappen!reader

“Ermitage will be safe for you, Y/N. It has kept Max safe for years and I trust their teachers. Professor Marko, who will teach english, Professor Horner who will teach history and public speaking, and Professor Dominicelli who is the head teacher all sing their praises of Max, and have helped your admission into the school. The school does not regularly take students mid year, however based on your prior behaviour and safety. I needed to send you here.”

Y/N scoffed at his fathers words. His ‘prior behaviour’ wasn’t all that bad. Max had been sent to this school for an arson attack that had almost resulted in the deaths of 5 people, including 3 of his dad’s own men. He was being sent to this school for running away from his bodyguards, drinking and making out with a boy. But Max was his father’s golden boy, and Y/N was the spare in case a rival gang took out Max. And he was sure that Max despised the 2 of the professors, based on his letters to Y/N. He seemed to adore Professor Horner, so maybe that would be Y/N’s respite.

As the car pulled up in front of the school and crunched on the gravel driveway, Y/N took a minute to admire it.

He smiled as he saw the young children running around near the junior school. He got out of the car, smiling as he felt the warm French sum combined with a small breeze. The car had pulled up on the other side of the driveway, in between 2 other buildings. One looked very traditional, however there had clearly been an extension or five as parts looked very modern with a lot of glass. The other building was gorgeous. The other building was very traditional, looking like one of Jos’ summer houses in Denmark, all white and clearly spacious, however it had a metal spiral staircase on the outside that led to the roof. Jos would’ve killed a builder if that had been left there at their house. It made the building look less professional, and even Y/N wasn’t sure that he liked it.

Y/N watched as 3 men came out from the doors of the building. The 2 in front, both had greying hair and stern expressions, whispering amongst each other, while making disgusted looks towards Y/N. The third looked a little younger and shorter, with grey hair, attempting to look serious and stern as he walked towards the 2 with Y/N’s big brother in tow. Y/N smiled as his brother walked out with the teachers. He looked happy and better and less like he’d just torched a building than the last time he had seen him. Max whispered something in the younger man’s ears and the mask of sterness dropped to smile at the boy.

The group reached the pair of Verstappens, and Max let his guard down a little after shaking hands with their dad to give his baby brother a big bear hug, and provide some intel.

“Who’d he catch you with, huh?”

“Liam. At least it wasn’t bloody Frederik or he’d be here to inform you that I got caught up in the crossfire of a shooting and my funeral is tomorrow.”

“It was simply a matter of time. Anyway, you will like it here. Try and steer clear of Marko, he is incredibly strict and if it was still legal he would hang you from your arms from the roof until your shoulders dislocated. You will barely see Dominicelli, he just rocks up to greet you now, and you will never see him again. Horner is also our housemaster. He’s amazing. He’ll like you. He kinda adopted me after I told him how much of an asshole dear father is.”

“Okay.” Y/N smiled tensely as he pulled himself out of his brother’s hug and turned to greet the 3 strangers.

The first one looked old, as in old enough to retire, and had a stern face, as in someone who would scold you for laughing too hard. Someone after his fathers’ own heart he presumed. He held his hand out, and the man took it,  shook it once, and then dropped his hand, as if disgusted to be touching ‘someone like Y/N’. So an old homophobe then. He then turned around and started talking to Jos, and  Y/n tried to eavesdrop as he met the other men.

“Lawson has been dealt with, I’m just concerned about…”

The 2nd man, held out his hand and shook Y/n’s twice which was an improvement, at least until he dropped it. 

“...he sort of always showed signs but I never thought…”

Then he tried to discreetly wipe his hand on his pants.

“...The Mercedes guys were there, if they had realised who he was…”

Y/N picked it up, and looked down at the ground, slightly awkward, unsure of what to do as the final teacher approached him.

“...Hamilton is pissed, one of his men was caught in the crossfire of trying to get Y/N out…”

Professor Horner immediately engulfed him in a tight hug.

“...see the problem is I can’t explain to anyone why they were shot in a random club on a random thursday to get my son out…”

It was the first time for a long time that Y/N was getting a hug from someone older like her dad’s age. He was so shocked that he missed the next part of Jos and Helmut’s conversation and strained to hear the next part.

“...i can’t tell them my son was in there…so now it looks like i shot up a nightclub for no reason…”

Christian started reassuring him in his ears about how he was safe here and whatnot, but all Y/N was thinking was about how he was preventing him from properly eavesdropping the conversation

“...No, no one important, a lackyman, Aron or something…”

Y/N could feel his heart drop. Paul was dead? He’d known Liam was dead, Jos had used him as an example, but he hasn’t even known that Paul was at the nightclub.

“...it’s done, there’s 2 dead bodies to dispose of, which im gonna do when i get back, but just keep an eye on him please…”

Christian seemed to realise the internal struggle that Y/N was having and started hugging him tighter to make him feel better.

“...He’s gonna get everyone killed and he will only realise when he loses his brother the consequences his actions have…”

‘I KNOW WHAT CONSEQUENCES MY ACTIONS HAVE DAD, YOU KILLED MY KIND OF BOYFRIEND IN FRONT OF ME!’ Y/N wanted to scream at his dad, but that would make him realise that he was eavesdropping and why he was actually here.

Christian felt him tense and tried to sooth him into the hug.

“Alright, that’s enough, Christian, how about we head inside?”

—

Arthur could recognise the boy walking in, but he couldn’t see the father which would help if he could work out why his body was in fight and flight mode as the boy had seen him, waved and smiled at him.

A memory flashed, of a meeting him and all his brothers together in a meeting room, as their father ran them through their highest enemies. He could remember the smile of a kid his age. He remembered Lorenzo asking how a 5 year old could be a threat…he doesn’t remember the rest or why this kid is a threat, but he remembers the goofy smile, the smile that was being flashed his way now, and the eyes that held so much happiness that seemed to hold a lot more pain now.

He couldn’t remember why this kid was in the powerpoint, so he supposed it was okay and irrelevant and smiled back, before being hurried on by Lorenzo.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @ghostking4m

[melancholy-of-nadia]

love u lately (m) #4 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately​ chapter title: #4 - sour candy​ pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; HALLOWEEN! summary: with jimin's birthday party coming, you hope that it will be a good opportunity to celebrate jimin's big day and heal namjoon's heart with all your closest friends. however, things take a turn and you start to further question how you feel about jimin and your fwb arrangement with yoongi. when you are confronted by jimin at matthew's halloween frat party, it will challenge you to make a decision that will further change your relationship with him, yoongi, and namjoon for good. warnings: first party of the year at the BETA TAU SIGMA HOUSE!, halloween, multiple house parties, alcohol/recreational drug mentions, swearing, another breakup mayhaps, kissing, mirror sex, yoongi being a little more dom than usual, vampire jimin also deserves a warning, sexy dancing, fingering, CONSENSUAL and PROTECTED sex, penetration, breast play, THINGS GET MESSY but it's NOT IN THE BED, unfinished orgasm, confessions???, ANGST with a side of GUILT note: thank u to @daegudrama (as always) for beta reading this incredibly long chapter + fixing the smutty bits. this was orginally 2 chapters, but i wanted to tie things together here in one big ol' chapter and be evil so i hope you like it. total word count: 12.4k drop date: October 30th, 2023, 11:40am PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #3 | Series Masterlist | #5 →

October 13 (Saturday)

The sun has barely began its ascent in the morning sky, casting a soft, golden hue over the bustling campus of the university.

In the quiet of dawn, the world seems at peace, a stark contrast to everything that has been happening to you and everyone in the house the past week.

Jimin, however, has had little time to appreciate the tranquility of the morning. He finds himself reluctantly attending a brunch event in a neighboring city. This event is orchestrated by Sigma Mu Epsilon’s president, Irene, for one of her sorority gatherings. It is a pledging event as well as a chance for new recruits to network with sorority alumni, which ends with an auction. He doesn’t particularly want to be there; all he craves is a few more hours of sleep and maybe the chance to enjoy a semi-fancy dinner at Yardhouse with his friends later in the evening. Lately, Jimin has been growing tired of his vibrant yet exhausting social life, wondering if perhaps he isn’t cut out for it anymore. Maybe his fatigue is more about Irene than the lifestyle itself. Maybe he has never truly been in love with her. It wouldn’t be the first time he has mentally tapped out of a relationship or a situationship before the other party. He has gone out and slept with countless people over the years. Ever since the virginity race in high school, he hasn’t really stopped. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he has the highest body count in the whole house, just a single person ahead of Jungkook. 

When it comes to Jimin finding people, he becomes intrigued with them because of their appearance and sometimes their charming personality that compliments his own. Most of the flings he’s had only last about 3-4 weeks. 

Irene is the first exception. You’re unsure why Jimin has been with her this long. Today marks 4 months since they’ve been dating, but seeing the way he’s forcing himself to go out for her sake, you aren’t sure he will last much longer.

While Jimin begrudgingly embarks on his mandatory brunch outing, it becomes the perfect cover for Beta Tau Sigma to set the stage for his surprise birthday party. Rising early, you see a glimpse of Jimin on his way out the door in a hurry as you walk downstairs. 

You join Namjoon for breakfast, relieved to see a glimmer of his usual self returning after the rocky events of the past few days. As you engage in conversation, you encourage him to relax and unwind at Jimin's party later that night. He smiles in response, promising to do just that.

Meanwhile, Seokjin has a friend who is also attending the brunch: Tiffany Young, a graduate student in Sigma Mu Epsilon who is in the sorority event's organizing committee. She is currently sending him real-time updates on the brunch schedule. Jin enters the dining area walking as he types on his phone. 

"Tiffany just texted me saying they’re going to be late," he says rather bluntly, which you can’t help but roll your eyes at. 

"Typical sorority events." You mutter, finishing up your breakfast. Namjoon chuckles in response to your snarky remark, to which you send a knowing smirk his way.

After breakfast, you call out to Yoongi, who has just come downstairs. He looks up at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes as you ask, "Ready to go?"

He flashes a small, enigmatic smile, reaching for the coat rack by the staircase to retrieve his eco-friendly shopping bags. 

"I'm always ready for a trip to the store." he replies, holding the bags up, the corners of his lips quirking upward like a cat.

Together you leave for a shopping adventure to buy decorations for Jimin's surprise party. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Namjoon are in charge of the house cleaning duties, and preparing it for the evening's festivities. Seokjin and Jungkook are busy in the kitchen, getting the food and drinks area ready, while Hoseok has gone to Matthew's house to borrow his DJ setup for the party. Matthew and Hoseok are known to be close friends, not only as members of the dance team but also as active co-hosts of various parties together. At the store, you and Yoongi browse through the colorful array of decorations, selecting orange-colored streamers to adorn the house for the upcoming party. As you unroll a section of the streamer, you share your excitement. Your voice filled with anticipation.

"Tonight's going to be great," you muse, a smile playing on your lips. "A little kickback in the middle of the semester is exactly what we need."

"I thought so too. Things have been hectic lately." Yoongi nods in agreement, his expression mirroring your enthusiasm.

With a sly grin, you decide to tease him. You lean in closer to him, playfully suggesting,

"You know, we could always sneak off for a little alone time during the party."

Yoongi's eyes widen slightly from your alluring words, and for a moment, panic flashes across his features. But he quickly recovers, his lips curving into a flirtatious grin. 

"Is that an invitation?" He responds, his voice laced with a teasing tone.

Your heart skips a beat at his reply, and you can't help but wonder if there's more to his words or if he’s just having fun playing your little game. He’s too good at this, you think. You don’t respond right away and continue shopping for party supplies, keeping the tension high until you decide to take the conversation on a more flirtatious edge.

"Well," you reply with a sultry smile.  "I guess we'll have to see how the night unfolds, kitty boy. It's a surprise party, after all."

Yoongi's face closes in on yours as his hands reaches for another pack of multi-color balloons behind you. You feel a jolt of sensation shoot through you. The tension in your lower half filled with want intensifies, making your heart race faster. During these moments, you can't deny the magnetic pull between you two. The way he can be doing mundane things in a store or at home and somehow manage to drive you crazy. It's in the way he behaves, in the quiet cadence of his voice, in the soft glint of his eyes that holds galaxies within. You want to kiss him so bad right now and later on, but a part of you knows that would be difficult.

He leans closer to your ear, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "Always teasing me with the cat comments. I'll be looking forward to the surprise then, Angel."

The air between you crackles as the flame dies down and you both carry on with your shopping, each touch and lingering glance adding to the palpable tension building between you.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

As the day unfolds, Jimin's patience wears thin during the brunch with Irene. The restaurant's tea party-like ambiance, once vibrant and appealing, now feels stifling. Their relationship has felt too restricting, with Irene often taking the lead in making decisions, and Jimin has grown increasingly weary of it.

Irene, as usual, has taken the initiative to plan a birthday dinner for the two of them at Fogo de Chão, a fine dining restaurant known for its Brazilian churrasco experience. While it is undoubtedly a great place, Jimin can’t help but feel trapped by the lack of input he has in the relationship's direction. He wants to have a say, a sense of balance that has been sorely missing when he’s with Irene.

Jimin's mood is noticeably dampened as he drives back from the event at 6pm. His voice is tinged with exhaustion and annoyance as he speaks with you on the phone. You are calling to ask his ETA, but overhear Irene persisting he goes out to dinner with her. Her insistence is a stark reminder of the control she seems to exert over their relationship. You try to keep yourself together, but you know you are inching closer to yelling at the woman over her “pick me” behavior.

After you finish setting up, you take the remaining time to help Jin prepare a small lunch box cake with a Badtz-maru Sanrio character figure in the middle. A smile tugs at Jimin’s lips as you mention that you and Jin made a cake.

 "Get here as soon as you can," you urge, "before I decide to eat the whole thing by myself!"

The warmth of your invitation and the prospect of spending the evening with you, perhaps accompanied by a few drinks with the guys, brings a genuine smile to Jimin's face. He can’t wait to be with you, if only to momentarily escape the complexities of his relationship with Irene. With a heartfelt response, he assures you. 

 "Looking forward to it, Honey," his voice filled with anticipation and a sense of longing.

As Jimin ends the call, he can’t help but notice Irene's displeased expression. She stares out of the window, her indifference to his plans more apparent than ever. Though, he is not worried about it at all. +++++++++

The moment has finally arrived. At 7 pm, Jimin approaches the front porch, Irene trailing behind him, completely unaware of the surprise lurking in the shadows. Everyone at the party is tucked away in their hiding spots behind the couch, their excitement barely contained. As he unlocks the door and steps inside, Irene right beside him, Jimin flicks on the lights in the living room.

Suddenly, the room explodes with a collective yell of 

"Surprise!" Jimin, caught off guard, jolts in fear, his heart racing. 

"Holy shit! Ya! You guys really scared the fuck out of me." he exclaims, breaking into laughter. 

The surprise party has taken him by surprise. Even though he had a hunch it was coming, thanks to Taehyung's incessant giggling over his phone for the past few days. He knew it wasn’t Jennie making him act like that, that’s for sure. "I didn't expect a party with everyone I know on campus...thanks, guys!" Jimin grins, feeling truly touched by the effort put into the surprise.

 As he looks around the room, he notices Taehyung and Jungkook approaching him. They playfully place a plastic crown on his head and a sash reading "It's a Boy!" around his shoulders. Laughter ripples through the room as people snicker, and Yoongi chimes in with an apology, claiming that Party City ran out of birthday boy sashes.

With the formalities out of the way, the party kicks into full gear. The guest list is a mix of Jimin's friends from the contemporary dance club, various fraternities and sororities on campus, and even some non-frat affiliated friends.The living room is illuminated with a kaleidoscope of colorful lights. The atmosphere buzzes with laughter, music, and the clinking of plastic red cups. Jimin, still wearing his "It’s a Boy!" sash, is now deeply engrossed in a competitive beer pong match with Taehyung, forming a formidable team they called “Taejin” and “Jikook”. The alcohol has clearly taken its toll, evident in their slightly unsteady aim and louder-than-usual banter.

As the game continues, Taehyung can't help but blurt out, "Did you know I took Jimin's virginity?" His words hang in the air, drawing incredulous stares from those around, including you.

"Ugh, you guys always say this when you're drunk!" You interject, trying to steer the conversation away from talking about their sex life at a party.

Jimin, never one to shy away from a chance to tease, chimes in, "And it's true!"

"But you guys never mention this sober!" you retort, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Jin, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, adds, "They did! I let Tae borrow my car, and it happened there!"

You burst into laughter, finding the situation utterly absurd. Still, you keep count of these drunken confessions, each sudden new revelation making the story more unbelievable. It has to be a lie right?

Meanwhile, Jungkook simultaneously takes on the role of the bartender, expertly mixing drinks for the guests, showcasing his impressive bartending skills.

Amidst the revelry, you can't help but notice Jimin and Taehyung being touchy, their usual closeness amplified by the alcohol. It's a stark contrast to the way Jimin and Irene interact, their interactions either avoiding each other entirely or being laced together with passive-aggressiveness. You venture away from the bartending area, seeking a change of scenery. In the living room, you find Hoseok rolling up joints with Jackson and a few others. The smell of freshly rolled weed fills the air as they chat and prepare for a little smoke session.

Hwasa pats your back gently as she rushes to join the group on the couch, her eyes bright with excitement as she plucks a rolling paper from Jackson's stash. Jackson playfully protests, the two of them engaging in a lighthearted argument. Soyoon, seated nearby, can't help but laugh at their antics, thoroughly entertained by the playful banter unfolding before her. You move from this scene to observe Namjoon and Yoongi sharing a lighthearted moment over their drinks, a sense of nostalgia washes over you. It's a feeling akin to stumbling upon an old, cherished photograph from your past, a glimpse into a time when life felt simpler, and worries were few and far between.

You recall the days when your group was unbreakable. In those moments, laughter flowed freely, and the weight of responsibilities and adulthood hadn't yet pressed down on your shoulders. A past when late-night conversations and spontaneous adventures with your favorite boys was the norm. The memories of those carefree days still warm your heart.

Seeing Namjoon and Yoongi sharing a genuine laugh is a reminder of that bygone era. It's as if a fragment of your youth has been recaptured, if only for a fleeting moment. The rareness of this sight intensifies its significance, making it feel like a precious treasure rediscovered.

It's not lost on you that life has changed, and with it, your relationships have evolved. Responsibilities, relationships, and personal growth have nudged you all in different directions.

You decide to join them, curious about their take on the party. "So, how's the party for you two?" You inquire.

Namjoon grins, clearly enjoying the festivities. "It's been going well. Jungkook's a real good bartender. Since when did he become a mixologist?"

Yoongi chuckles and adds, "Since I took him to a bar with a fake ID over the summer and we tried different drinks. The Irish bomb started all of this. Taught him how to make one drink, and now he knows how to make like 30 different drinks."

You smirk playfully, teasing Jungkook's inventive nature. "Of course, the house genius had something to do with it. Always cooking up with ideas."

Yoongi cheeks flush at your compliment, which only makes you smile. Then, you shift the conversation toward Namjoon, still concerned about his well-being after the breakup with Jihyo. You wonder if he's still upset or if he's managed to move past it, both in terms of the relationship ending and the way it ended.

"Oh, I'm doing good," Namjoon assures you, his voice steady. "I think accumulated stress, coupled with that situation, got to me in the moment. But I'm doing better now after thinking about it more."

Relieved to hear that he's coping well, you offer a comforting gesture by rubbing his arm. 

"I'm glad," you say sincerely. "we were all worried about you, so if you ever need anything, we're here for you. Me, Yoongs, Mimi, Tae, Koo, Jin, and Hope!"

Yoongi nods in agreement, silently echoing your sentiment. However, beneath his supportive exterior, a gnawing fear lingers. You step aside for a moment to grab a snack bag from the box to munch on, leaving Namjoon and Yoongi to chat. Namjoon leans toward Yoongi, his voice hushed. 

"Hey, I'm gonna get her another drink from Jungkook."

Yoongi side-eyes Namjoon, a hint of curiosity in his gaze, and takes a sip from his whiskey.

 "What drink are you gonna get her?"

“I was thinking a Mai Tai. She loves those.”

The cat-eyed man furrows his brow, a sense of unease crossing his features. 

"I don't think that's a good idea." He cautions.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. "What do you mean by that?" Yoongi takes another sip of his drink, contemplating the situation.

"You know, she hasn't liked Mai Tais since last year." He finally admits, alluding to the time you drank so many of them in one night and you swore off to never drink those again. "She switched to Pina Coladas as her preferred alcoholic drink. She even mentioned it on her birthday earlier this year."

"Oh, I didn't know. I guess I missed that." He looks at him, a tad surprised and maybe even a bit upset that he hadn't caught onto your changing tastes.

Yoongi mumbles under his breath, his jealousy flickering. "If you were as close to her as you think, you should've known."

Undeterred, Namjoon walks away, eventually returning with a Pina Colada in hand. He hands it to you with a smile as he sees you conversing with Yoongi. "Oh, Namjoon! Pina Colada? I'm surprised you remembered." You let out a giggle, a hint of appreciation in your voice.

He blushes a little, his confidence replaced by shyness. "I could never forget my favorite girl's drink."

Yoongi scoffs softly, his jealousy flaring up. He takes another sip of his whiskey, trying to calm the growing storm of emotions inside him. The alcohol burns his throat, but it does little to quell the turbulent thoughts swirling in his mind. He knows he needs to find a way to calm himself down. The alcohol isn't helping him at this moment. As you stand there talking with Namjoon, Yoongi watches you from the corner of his eye, lost in a sea of conflicting emotions. He's relieved that Namjoon's not stressing you with his previous relationship, but there's an undercurrent of fear plaguing him. He worries that this situationship, this tangled web of emotions you share, might lose its appeal to you.

Deep down, he knows that this fling serves as a distraction for both of you, something to hold onto in the midst of college life. But perhaps it's more than that. Perhaps you mean more to him than he's ready to admit while not under the influence of an intoxicating drink. The thought of you eventually moving on and finding someone else terrifies him more than he'd like to acknowledge.

On your end, you're equally conflicted. The seed of doubt and overthinking that Yoongi planted has taken root, and you find yourself questioning your own feelings. Is it just a casual fling, or is there something more beneath the surface? You don't want to admit it, not even to yourself, but there's a growing awareness that maybe, just maybe, this situationship has started to mean more to you than you initially thought.

The room buzzes with laughter and music, but in this moment, both of you are lost in the turmoil of your emotions, uncertain of where this journey will ultimately lead.

You decide to heed Yoongi's earlier suggestion of meeting in secret at the party, excusing yourself from the two men in the living room where everyone continues to have a good time. As you head upstairs, you discreetly signal to Yoongi that you'll be waiting for him in your room.

Once in your room, you decide to step out onto the balcony, feeling the crisp October air brush against your skin. The chill seems to awaken you from your drunken stupor, and you take a deep breath, gazing out into the night. The distant campus buildings are barely visible in the dim moonlight, and a plane streaks across the sky, leaving behind a trail of blinking lights.

Your phone suddenly vibrates in your hand, and you eagerly check it, expecting to see a message from Yoongi. However, as you read his response, a twinge of disappointment washes over you. Yoongi [11:02PM]: Sorry angel, i think it’s a bad idea right now. 

Yoongi [11:02PM]: another time, okay? 

Reading the pixelated words on a screen causes your chest to tighten, leaving you with a mix of emotions that you can't quite put your finger on. You're aware that your situationship with Yoongi is not committed or exclusive, yet you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It's a confusing feeling that leaves you standing on the balcony, contemplating the nature of your connection with Yoongi and wanting to run away from these thoughts. You look down from the balcony and notice Irene's dramatic exit from the party. She gets into a black car waiting at the curb, and not long after, it drives away. You don't think much of it until you hear the sliding door behind you open. At first, you assume it might be Yoongi changing his mind or teasing you about his earlier rejection. However, when you turn to see Jimin joining you, you feel a bit caught off guard.

"Oh, Darling? You're here? Why are you alone?" 

"Oh, Mimi," you reply with a smile, brushing off his question. "I just wanted to sober up a bit. I don't want to spend tomorrow dealing with a hungover existential crisis while trying to get assignments done."

Jimin nods in understanding. "Fair enough."

You lean on the railing, propping your arms up, and watch Jimin as he continues speaking. "So, how's the party, birthday boy?"

"It's been fun so far, way better than whatever BS I did for most of the day." Jimin responds.

"Irene being too much?" You ask.

Jimin rolls his eyes. 

"Yup." He seems like he's about to say more about Irene, but he changes the topic instead. "But you guys made my night. I'm not usually a 'receiving presents' type of guy, but Jin still gave me a Maple Story plush pouch with money earlier."

"Damn, that boy is more loaded than I thought," 

"Right!" Jimin agrees. "Tae got me a custom One Piece Zoro mug too." He chuckles cutely. "Oh, Yoongi hyung also said he's performing a special song for me from his upcoming mixtape at the party, so that's going to be wild as fuck." You can't help but laugh, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips as you try to make sense of the situation.

"Shit, now I feel bad that I didn't get you anything." You admit, feeling the corners of your lips curl into a playful smile. You stand up from the balcony railing, and your gaze locks with Jimin's as you lean against it, the party's background noise fading away in the distance.

"Is there anything else our birthday boy wants for his birthday?" You inquire, a glint of curiosity dancing in your eyes. Jimin's hesitation isn't lost on you, but his flirty expression keeps your attention, and you can't help but wonder where this is going.

Jimin closes the gap between you two until there is only a few mere inches from your lips, and his smile takes on a devilish edge. "A kiss."

“Huh.”

Your reaction is immediate. You freeze in place, wondering if perhaps the alcohol in your system has led you to misinterpret his words. The surprise has you giggling, a nervous, bubbling laughter that hints at uncertainty. "A kiss? Should I call Irene?" You tease, although a small part of you wonders if he's serious. You realize you're not entirely sure if you should take him seriously.

Jimin responds with a narrowed look, clearly expressing his desire, and it's evident that he means every word. "A kiss. From you.” He confirms, as he continues to close the distance between you, a playful gleam in his eyes. His breath, laced with the scent of alcohol, washes over you, making the situation feel even more surreal.

Despite your laughter, your heart races. You did not anticipate this, not from Jimin, not on his birthday, and not with Irene in the picture. It feels like a playful game at first, a continuation of your close friendship, but as the atmosphere grows heavier with tension, you're not quite sure where the line between friendship and something more blurs.

You attempt to regain your composure, using humor as a defense mechanism. 

"Uh, Jimin? I know we used to do those playful goodbye cheek kisses and all, and you practiced your first kiss on me in middle school because we're besties, but is this even okay right now? You're with Irene, after all." Your words convey your uncertainty as you try to mentally process the situation.

Jimin doesn't miss a beat. "I broke up with her.”

Your response is disbelief. "Wait, you what?"

 The shock makes you take a step back, and you try to understand why he chose this night, of all nights, to end things. You're genuinely concerned for Jimin. You know Irene been hitting several nerves for Jimin as of late, but to break up with her while at his own birthday party? 

He explains their fight as you lean on the balcony, your gaze fixated on him. His words hang in the air, and you can't help but reflect on the turn of events. 

"Oh...damn. I’m sorry," You finally reply, a mix of sympathy and understanding in your tone. You really don’t have much to say. You didn’t like her, that’s for sure. But two break ups in the same week, it’s kind of insane. There has to be some sudden explanation about how you were having a breakdown last week to suddenly everything being somewhat normal again after so long.

Jimin redirects the conversation with a flirty comment, catching you off guard yet again.

"So, my lips are free for a kiss.” He says, his eyes locked onto yours, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. As Jimin's words hang in the air, you look at him with a mix of disbelief and concern, hoping he'll snap back to his senses. 

"Jimin…" You repeat his name, your voice carrying a tone of incredulity. You raise your hand to your face, rubbing your temples in an attempt to clear your head. This situation has grown far more complicated than you ever expected. You lock eyes with him, your expression stern, as you attempt to make him understand the implications of what he's asking. "Are you SURE, Park Jimin?" you insist, emphasizing his name with a hint of desperation. 

You want to make sure he's aware of the potential consequences. Irene and Yoongi both occupy a significant place in your life, and crossing boundaries could jeopardize everything.

Jimin, however, seems untroubled by the complexities of the situation. He meets your gaze and lets out a playful giggle, his words light, "Just one won't hurt, Darling."

Your breath hitches as his lips come close, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him. Before you can fully process what's happening, he leans in and captures your lips in a surprising, lingering kiss. Your world momentarily narrows down to the sensation of his lips against yours, and you find yourself responding to the touch, your eyes closing as you sink into the moment.

The kiss is tender, passionate, and slightly intoxicating. It feels like time has stopped, yet it's over within a few heartbeats, lasting no more than seven seconds. Jimin withdraws, leaving you disheveled and breathless, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he chuckles.

"Thank you, Y/N." He says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Best present I’ve gotten all day!”

With that, he turns and heads back downstairs to rejoin the party, leaving you standing on the balcony in a state of bewilderment.

Your thoughts spin in confusion. What the fuck just happened? This single, impulsive kiss has stirred up a whirlwind of emotions and questions, pushing the boundaries of your relationships with both Yoongi and Jimin. You're left in a daze, trying to make sense of it all.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

The kiss from Jimin is a secret you vow to bury deep within, a momentary lapse in a whirlwind of unexpected events. To dwell on it would be madness, and you need your sanity more than ever in this house. Thoughts about moving out or taking a semester off cross your mind for a brief moment. Living among these chaotic emotions is a constant test of your resilience, and you question whether you are cut out for it. You rejoin the party downstairs, a tumultuous mix of emotions whirling in your head. Just as you enter, you catch the sound of Yoongi strumming his guitar, and he begins to sing a song he composed for Jimin. It is called "Autumn Leaves," and the lyrics seem to pierce through the core of your being. “떨어져 날리는 저기 낙입처럼

Like the leaves over there fallen and fluttering,

힘없이 쓰러져만 가 내 사랑이

helplessly falling, my love is”

The words Yoongi sings feels like they are plucked from the depths of your own heart. As he plays the chords on his guitar, the lyrics echo the complexities of your current situation.

“저기 저 위태로워 보이는 낙업은 우리를 보는 것 같아서

Because those precarious dead leaves over there look like us

손이 닿으면 단숨에라도 바스라질 것만 같아서

Because they look like they'll crumble at any slightest touch

그저 바라만 봤지 가을의 바람과 같이

I just gazed at them like the autumn wind”

The song finishes, and the party continues, but the lyrics remain etched in your mind. Yoongi's music has always been a vessel to convey feelings and emotions. You can’t deny that it has a way of capturing your own sentiments.

The night eventually comes to a close, the soft glow of dawn peeking through the windows.

The next morning, you find yourself nestled between a pair of hungover Jungkook and Taehyung in Jin’s bed, funnily enough. The two of them obviously got an earful from Namjoon about their antics during the party, and you can’t help but laugh at the comical scene. Despite the complex relationships and tangled emotions, moments like this still remind you why you stay.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

October 23 (Tuesday) You manage to navigate the days after Jimin's birthday without any major upheavals. Now, a little over 10 days since then, time seems to be passing with an eerie calm. As the days pass, life takes on a sense of normalcy you hadn't felt in a while. You find yourself spending more time with Namjoon and Jimin, enjoying outings for rolled ice cream and accompanying Joon to the local MOMA to do one of his art history assignments. These moments of familiarity make you ponder whether things are settling back into a comforting routine or if you are merely avoiding the looming changes.

On the other hand, you still have your secret rendezvous with Yoongi . These moments are like carefully hidden gems in your hectic life. As you indulge in your intimacy, you keep a vigilant eye on the house, ensuring no prying eyes or unexpected interruptions. It has become somewhat of a routine, a small sanctuary amidst the stress and chaos of a college student life. Yoongi often uses the excuse of studying together to enter your room in secret, and it's during these stolen moments of him fingering you or eating you out that you find solace. You don’t forget to return the favor with a blowjob either.

However on this day, you and Yoongi decide to get a little friskier than usual, seeing and hearing that no one is home during this time of day. Not a common occurrence, sadly. The connection between you two grows deeper with each stolen moment, yet you can't shake the nagging uncertainty that lingers beneath the surface. Mainly about how Jimin’s kiss may have shifted your current reality even further than before.

Yoongi moves to sit in the middle of your bed, patting his thigh to signal you to sit on his lap. You do as he requests, and crawl over your bed to sit on his thighs. Your back is towards him, while you face the standing floral-bordered mirror in front of your bed. You never thought there’d be a situation where you look into this exact mirror during promiscuous activities, but you guess thanks to college anything’s possible. The thought of seeing Yoongi pushing himself in and out of you turns you on more than you want to admit. Surely, the memory of your escapade will imprint much deeper in your mind after watching yourself.

One of his hands comes down to caress your wet folds through your panties. Then he slides them to the side, thrusting two fingers inside you while his thumb rubs your sensitive spot. His other hand passes over your blue lacy tank top covered breasts while his mouth sucks gently on your neck. The mirror captures the sensual scene well. Watching yourself coupled with the stimulation from Yoongi’s skilled fingers leaves your head feeling hazy to the point you almost come. You’re about to moan his name, but quickly cover your mouth as he continues to penetrate his fingers deep inside of you. It’s the middle of the afternoon, golden beams of light shining through your window. While you know it’s very likely you two are alone right now, you can’t risk exposing this situationship no matter how good it feels.

"Yoongi…it feels good.” You breathe out after moving your hand from your lips, your voice barely louder than a whisper as your fingers gently tighten around his forearm.

"Are you enjoying it angel?" He asks in a husky tone, his warm breath caressing your right ear.

"Mhm…" You nod, a soft sigh escaping your lips. 

His own lips curl into a sultry smile, as he increases the pace of his movements, his thumb working faster, sending waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body. You gently rest your head against the crook of his shoulder, and his lips seek out yours, locking in a fervent, passionate kiss. Your fingers instinctively wind through the soft strands of his hair, deepening the connection as your tongues entwined in an intimate dance.

Reluctantly, he withdraws his fingers from your trembling form, but they don't go far. Instead, he guides them to your lips. With a hint of a seductive smile, you obediently take his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue dances around them, savoring the captivating blend of your own essence. Meanwhile, his hard dick is pressing against you begging for attention.

"Do you want me?"

"S-so fucking bad…please, Yoongi.” You manage to breathe out, your voice heavy with longing.

Yoongi’s arm stretches over to your bedside table drawer to grab a condom he keeps hidden in there, rolling it down his cock quickly without losing momentum. He kisses you while running his hands along the sides of your waist and then gropes your covered breasts. You hold his cock, lifting yourself up to line his tip up with your entrance. Suddenly, Yoongi holds your chin, forcing your head forward so you can see him pushing himself further inside of you and spreading your folds in the mirror. You groan at the sight and start bouncing slowly into his lap as his hands grip your hips keeping you in place.

The surging heat envelopes your entire being, your legs parting and trembling with an electric fervor. Sensing your waning strength, he adjusts his motions, guiding you upward and causing your head to tilt back in ecstasy.

"Don't take your eyes off the mirror, Angel. Look.” He grabs your chin to face the mirror once more. “Look how well you're taking me. You're so good at this Y/N." He says, holding your hips with the other hand, thrusting into you even harder and faster. 

You two are close to coming and you can barely keep up with his pace. He slides one hand down to rub your bud while the other cups your neck and tilts your head to kiss you. His thrusts slow taking in the feeling of your kiss and the sweet sounds of you moaning into each other’s mouths. He continues to rub your clit until you come while moaning his name. He quickly covers your mouth muffling your continues sounds of pleasure. You feel him also come into the condom right after. He lifts you up to withdraw from within you. He holds you to prevent you from falling from exhaustion and places you back on the mattress to catch your breath. You are quite exhausted and sweaty, he looks at you and smiles.

After the two of you take a breather and rest for a bit, you and Yoongi return to studying on your bed as if nothing happened. You like the normalcy of things like this. The atmosphere feels light and comfortable as you converse through psych homework. You decide to change up the conversation. Halloween is approaching, and you bring up the idea of attending Matthew's Halloween party at DSP's house.

"I was talking to Hwasa yesterday," you begin with curiosity lacing your words, "and she said Matthew's throwing a big Halloween rager at DSP's house next week.” “Mhm.” Yoongi hums, waiting for you to go on. “I was thinking that we should go!” Yoongi looks as if he wants to say something, but can’t bring himself to do it as he sees you speak with stars in your eyes. He knows Halloween is one of your favorite holidays aside from Christmas, so he lets you ramble on with your suggestion. “We could dress as something silly, like Pokemon onesies, or we can do a sexy concept that makes us so hot we look dumb...like an angel and demon pairing?" You both share a laugh, but as the mirth subsides, Yoongi grows pensive.

"Y/N, that sounds great, but I've been meaning to tell you, I'm—"

You interrupt with a hint of panic, "Is this about our situationship? Do you want to end it now?" Your eyes widen, fearing the worst.

"What?" Yoongi chuckles, pouncing to wrap you in a warm hug. "No! I'm going to be out of town for half of next week."

"Huh? Wait. Oh my God, Yoongi, is this for the Future of Music Conference?" You recall Yoongi mentioning the conference back in September. 

It is a big deal, and he’s been tirelessly working as a TA for Professor Kang, which is why he’s been so busy lately. You guess it's finally paying off. Yoongi has another year left until he finishes undergrad, and he is hoping to start working in the industry right after. However, it’s not easy to get a job without experience, so he is hoping to network and get an internship before then.

"Yeah, that's the one," Yoongi confirms with a nod. "I'll probably be on a flight to Los Angeles the evening of the 31st."

“Oh no…” Your expression falls as the realization sinks in. 

The prospect of spending Halloween without Yoongi is disappointing. You can’t help but entertain some steamy thoughts, like imagining him wearing a scream mask as he fucks you. The internet has you thinking up a couple of ideas lately. However, you can’t help but feel a mixture of happiness for him making moves and somewhat sadness feeling that you are holding Yoongi back from the chance to get more involved in music. Yoongi's gentle touch reassures you, making you feel secure in this complex, secretive relationship. He seeks to understand your hesitation.

"Yeah, but why did you think I was ending this?" he asks, gesturing towards the tangled bond you both shared.

"The way you said it sounded too serious. Sometimes I’m not sure what to expect from you, Yoongs." You reply, your voice tinged with the caution you'd learned from past experiences. 

You don’t want to blame Yoongi if he wants to end the affair and return to being just best friends, without the complications that come with it.

"I'm fine with this…unless you don't want to do this anymore." Yoongi assures you, his respect for your decisions unwavering.

Sometimes, you ponder the significance of continuing this secret relationship. Namjoon is no longer with Jihyo, and Jimin has also parted ways with Irene. You have more time to spend with your friends, and you’ve been enjoying activities with them. Despite all this, you can’t bring yourself to end things with Yoongi, and you can’t fully understand why. Are you catching feelings for him?

"No, I still want to keep this up, probably as long as we can." you reply, your feelings conflicted and unclear.

 Your thoughts turn briefly to Jimin's kiss, which has left a lingering impact. For some reason, it felt different from Yoongi's kisses. Not better or worse, just different, with unique emotions woven into it.

“I won’t push you Angel, but just let me know whenever you want to stop this. I promise you that I will always be your best friend no matter what.”

Yoongi then pulls you down onto the bed, and you both drift into a peaceful nap together, the unspoken complexities of your relationships lingering in the air.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

October 31 (Wednesday) As you finish applying makeup on your knees in front of your mirror, surrounded by scattered makeup items, you check the time on your clock and see it's already 8:25. Yoongi's flight is set to depart at 8:50, and you reminisce about his early departure earlier in the day. He left with his luggage in hand, bidding you goodbye with a pat on the head, in the presence of Jungkook, Hoseok, and Namjoon. You hadn’t had the chance to hang out with Yoongi much since last week. Once he told everyone the news that he was going to the music conference, Yoongi went into strictly producer mode. He wanted to have a solid four song demo tracklist to showcase to professional producers and artists attending the conference in hopes of getting signed. Before he left, he said his schedule would be packed with various panels and activities for the next few days. He mentioned he’ll have some downtime and will text you before his return on Monday.

You rise from your seat on the floor and reach for the angel costume on your bed, changing into it. This is the outfit you chose when Hwasa took you to Spirit Halloween earlier that week, where the two of you picked your costumes together. As you gaze into the mirror, a myriad of thoughts swirl in your head, all stemming from that night on the balcony when Jimin kissed you. Even now, with Yoongi as your fuck buddy, the memory of Jimin's lips lingers in your thoughts. It's becoming a persistent distraction, and you find your mind often wandering back to that stolen kiss. The days have only made this internal conflict intensify, leaving you feeling increasingly torn between whatever you have with Yoongi and whatever is brewing with Jimin. You hear a knock on your door, breaking the spell of thoughts on your mind. You rush to open it, revealing Namjoon on the other side. He's dressed in a Hogwarts school uniform, complete with thick-rimmed glasses and a Gryffindor cloak over his outfit.

"You look so cute, Joonie!" You compliment him.

"Really?" He asks, a hint of shyness in his tone.

"Yeah, the whole look suits you well. Pair it up with your British accent, and it'll be even better," You tease, and you both share a laugh.

"Thanks, I'll do that too. You..." Namjoon's eyes roam your body, his gaze landing on the sleeveless, short white dress you're sporting for the party. "look really good too, Tiny." His gaze lingers on your cleavage for a moment before you catch on.

"Really? Good! I spent the last hour going through Tiktok for makeup tutorials, and I was so close to giving up and not going anymore.” You admit with a chuckle.

"Seriously, you look great! Where are you heading tonight?" Namjoon inquires.

"I was going to go to Dark Side with Hwasa and the other girls. We're planning to go to DSP's party since Matthew kindly extended the invite a few weeks ago." You explain. 

Dark Side is a neighborhood on the southwest side of campus known for throwing wild and raunchy parties. You'd never venture there alone, but with the girls there as well as Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin heading to DSP later, you'll have trustworthy friends close by.

"I'll try to swing by later tonight too. I'll be on Light Side, Halloween bar hopping with John, Zico, and San for Jin's frat event. Drinks are $1 for two hours, and I don't want to miss that." Namjoon shares with a chuckle.

"Oh, that sounds fun too, but I want to spend time with the girls this one time, so I gotta pass. Send my regards to Jinnie for me." You say with a smile.

"Of course." Namjoon replies.

"Is BTS' angel ready to go?" Hwasa, dressed as The Bride from Kill Bill, peeks into your room next to Namjoon.

"Kill Bill?" Namjoon raises an eyebrow at her choice.

"Yeah, why not? SZA made it trendy again." Hwasa scoffs, playfully defending her costume.

"Okay, you two! I don't want to see Harry Potter and The Bride fight to the death in my room. Let's go get wasted, shall we?" You say, intervening.

"Fine!" They reply in unison, and together you head downstairs to find the rest of your friends. Grim Reaper Soyoon, Barbie Cowgirl Jieun, and Dorothy Soohyun, are waiting by the door for you. You head out together, bidding Namjoon and Jin, who are making food in the kitchen, goodbye.

++++++++++++

As you arrive at Matthew's frat house, you can't help but be awestruck by the eerie Halloween atmosphere that greets you. The whole house is bathed in a sinister red lighting, casting an unsettling glow on everything it touches. A mysterious haze hangs in the air, making your every breath feel like a step into the unknown. You aren’t sure if it’s coming from a fog machine or the smoke of people hotboxing the house with weed, but it adds ambience. String lights are meandered throughout the house, resembling spider web-like streamers that cling to the walls and ceilings, giving the place an otherworldly feel. Enormous pumpkins and grinning skulls adorn various corners, casting ominous shadows. The centerpiece of the decorations is a giant tapestry in the living room featuring a hauntingly detailed skull and the bold letters "DSP HALLOWEEN RAGER 20XX" leaving no doubt that DSP going all out for Halloween is definitely their frat tradition.

You and the girls continue exploring the house, drinking whatever glittery purple concoction was in one of several cauldrons by the alcohol table, immersing yourselves further into the atmosphere. Loud music reverberates through the air, colorful lights flash, and costumed partygoers fill every corner. 

You're glad you chose to come as an angel. The outfit is simple: a white satin corset dress, white pumps, paired with feathered wings and a shimmering halo headband to add a touch of ethereal charm. It's easy to move around and dance without feeling too weighed down. The alcohol flows freely, infusing everyone with a giddy sense of euphoria. The beats of the music thump in your chest, electrifying the atmosphere even more. You and the girls can't help but dance once you get closer to the music, caught in the moment.

Matthew, who has been DJing with his fellow Delta, Somin, takes a break and strolls over to your group with a tray of tequila shots. His tracks have been setting the perfect vibe for the party since you got there, blending seamlessly with the pulsating energy in the room. From Beyonce to Doja to Michael Jackson to Post Malone.

"Hey, ladies!" He greets you and the girls with a charismatic grin. He's dressed as a '90s grunge rocker, his outfit complete with ripped jeans, a band tee, and a flannel shirt tied around his waist. “I brought y’all some shots! It’s from my special Don Julio stash.” Soyoon looks at the tray, surprised with the VIP treatment from DSP’s President. “Really? Wow, that’s awesome. Thanks Matthew.” 

“Nah, it’s nothing!” “Cheers!" You all chimed in unison, lifting your shot glasses high to clink together before downing them. The tequila's warmth coursing through you.

"Matthew, I gotta say, you're killing it as the DJ tonight!" Hwasa exclaims.

Matthew chuckles modestly. "Thanks, Hyejin. Always a pleasure to make y’all dance. And Y/N, you look truly angelic, by the way." His compliment comes with a wink and a nod of approval.

"Aw, thank you, Matthew! You're not looking too shabby yourself as a '90s rockstar." You reply with a grin as you sip your drink.

As you chat, Matthew offers you and the girls some insights into the party scene tonight.

"It’s pretty packed here tonight. A lot of the Gamma guys and Psi peeps decided to come by. GOT doesn't usually do Halloween parties, and I’m sure y’all already know that DSP is the go-to spot for Halloween festivities on campus. Y’all better dance and drink safely, alright? Let me know if y’all need anything." You all nod and thank him for his consideration for your safety.

Hearing about the Gamma guys' presence, you can't help but wonder if Jaebeom is among them. You do not want an awkward and uncomfortable run in with him or any of his Gamma buds.

The night progresses, and as you engage in the festivities, you can't help but feel a growing sense of nostalgia and longing for Yoongi. Halloween had always been a cherished tradition for both of you since childhood. You would go trick-or-treating with the 3 boys under the guidance of Yoongi’s older brother and then eventually spending Halloween nights watching slasher films, which Yoongi hated, but watched knowing how much you and Jimin liked them. Not having him by your side this time felt lonely. And while the worries about Namjoon and Jimin's romantic involvements had dissipated, the absence of Yoongi left a void in the group that you couldn't ignore. 

Despite this yearning for him to be here, thoughts of Jimin continued to intrude, making you feel conflicted. You remember the playful cheek kisses and innocent pecks on the cheek that you and Jimin used to share as best friends, but now the thought of that happening again feels entirely different. That birthday kiss was not like the past ones.

The more alcohol you consume, the more Jimin's presence continues to tug your mind, creating a sense of inner turmoil. You remind yourself that you don’t owe Yoongi exclusivity, yet your arrangement with him still hung heavily in the back of your mind.

Fuck, you feel yourself falling into insanity.

Not long after you start feeling like you’re going crazy, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jungkook finally show up. You glance at each of their costumes: Taehyung is dressed as a character from Bridgerton, while Hoseok is all out as a pirate. This is great, you think to yourself. However, as your eyes move to Jimin, you find it hard to maintain your composure. His vampire costume is equal parts charming and alluring, and your slightly intoxicated state makes it difficult to look him in the eyes. His demeanor is relaxed, but he's no stranger to reading people's body language. You have managed to act like nothing has been picking at your brain when talking with him the past weeks since his birthday, but that’s not the case right now. Jungkook, wearing a Rocky boxing costume, gently shakes your shoulder asking if you’re good, to which you say yes. You’re lying, which Jimin takes note of. 

In the kitchen, while you chat and laugh with the group, you find your gaze involuntarily drawn to Jimin more than once. At one point, your flustered state leads to an accidental mishap – you drop your drink. Thankfully, it's a party, and no one minds a small accident.

Jimin notices your nervousness and the way you keep fidgeting. He smiles playfully, sensing your discomfort but not mentioning it outright. You're grateful for his discretion. The chemistry between you and Jimin has shifted since his birthday party, and navigating this new territory is both nerve wracking and a little confusing.

After a brief chat with your girls and guys, you all part ways to continue navigating DSP’s party and its many alcohol-filled Halloween activities. Your constant urge to keep your eye on Jimin continues despite the large crowd of people filing in and out of the house. You are standing next to Soyoon and Jieun playing King’s Cup against Sigma Kappa Zeta’s Chris and a group of other guys, as you glance at the other side of the house seeing the dance floor filled with familiar faces. 

And there he is again. Jimin. 

There are a few girls dressed as Barbie clones circling around him, trying to grind against him, but their attention on him doesn’t faze you. This phenomenon is quite familiar when it comes to Jimin. He’s gorgeous, everyone knows it, and everyone wants him.

However, you remained immune to what they commonly refer to as the "Jimin Effect." Jimin himself is well aware of the impact he has on others, but for you, he is simply Jimin, a close friend, and nothing more. You never thought of anything more with him. He'd try to tease you at times by giving you cheek kisses because it's what French people do when they say hello or goodbye. "It's just faire la bise.” he'd say, but it'd be a ploy to see if you'd crack. You didn't.

There was a time, though, when you spent more time with Jimin than with Namjoon or Yoongi. The latter two had started high school, which was situated across town from where you lived. Your daily interactions with them dwindled because of the new commitments and distance. 

However, one day, you noticed a change in Jimin's behavior. He seemed anxious, fidgety even. It was then that he asked you a rather unexpected question.

"Could you be my practice partner for my first official kiss?" 

Your eyes widened, convinced that he was pulling your leg with one of his classic pranks. You inquired if he was serious, and he assured you he was genuinely seeking your assistance for something he had no idea how to do, even though he found it embarrassing to admit. Recognizing his sincere plea for help, you decided to assist him. Your initial attempts during after-school sessions proved fruitless, but after watching "The Notebook" together one afternoon, you decided to replicate one of the film's romantic kissing scenes. At first, it felt awkward, and the two of you couldn't help but chuckle after. But as the scene played out repeatedly, you began to notice a subtle shift. The practice had evolved into something; there was a growing intimacy in each kiss you shared. And this was how you too, had your first kiss. Jimin's nervousness gradually transformed into comfort, and you noticed how his lips became more confident against yours. His sweet laughter and warm smile during your practices caused a shift. You found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d want to admit to anyone.

As time went on, you both became increasingly comfortable in each other's presence. While these practice sessions were meant to be lighthearted, they grew into meaningful moments for the two of you. 

Though this period was fleeting, like to the ephemeral beauty of cherry blossoms in spring, their brief existence was marked by a burst of color before gracefully scattering away. Much like those delicate petals, your shared moments of intimacy came to an end, not lasting beyond that season. 

Jimin got his "official first kiss" from one of the girls he admired in your 8th-grade history class. As you both stepped into high school, he had started seeing and dating a series of people. He continued on as if that time was just a dream. Namjoon and Yoongi never learned of what transpired between you two. And you too, had continued to live your life like nothing had happened during that spring of your final year in middle school.

Until now. "Y/N!" Jimin's voice pierces through the loud music and chatter. 

You snap back to the present, his call pulling you out of the distant memories from long ago. Your eyes widen in surprise, wondering why he is calling your name so urgently. Before you can react, he exchanges some quick words with the girls around him and makes his way toward you. You will your feet to move forward to meet him. You are about to ask about the urgency when Jimin speaks first.

"I needed an excuse." He confesses, his shoulders slumping with a sigh, "I couldn't get rid of them."

Ah, classic Jimin. A smile tugs at your lips as he runs his hand through his hair in a way that you know well. You aren’t sure why you feel a rush of giddiness knowing he chose you over the other girls.

"Let's dance, darling?" Jimin suggests, breath warm against your ear. His words make your brows furrow. You tilt your head, teasingly skeptical.

"Are you drunk right now?"

"You know I've got a high alcohol tolerance." He replies, his confidence unshaken.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Park.” You concede, and with that, he pulls you deeper into the crowd on the dance floor, ready to let the music and the moment carry you both away.

In the dimly lit embrace of the dance floor, you find yourself swaying to the beat of Take My Breath by The Weeknd, creating a world of sensuality around you. Jimin's strong hands confidently claim the small of your back, and his touch sends a wave of heat radiating through your body. Together, you move with grace, entangled in a slow, seductive dance that defies the pulsating rhythm around you.

Your fingers glide along the contours of his muscular cape-covered shoulder, and you're entranced by the intense connection in his dark, probing eyes. Each sinuous movement feels like a secret conversation, a silent language whispered through touch.

Jimin's warm breath, tinged with a hint of alcohol, brushes against your earlobe as he guides you even closer. The sensation of his lips softly grazing your neck sent a shiver down your spine, intensifying the yearning that courses through every nerve. As his hands caress your body, his cologne, a scent different from the one he used to wear, envelopes you, adding to your growing sense of intoxication. The fragrance was a symphony of warm, vanilla notes, creating an intoxicating blend that only heightens your desire.

The world outside your bubble seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this sensual realm. The chemistry between you intensifies with every caress, each gentle press of your bodies, as you're pulled deeper into a realm of unspoken longing.

The sweet agony of desire intensifies, and your souls unite, dancing to a silent melody that pulses with yearning and passion. In this enchanted moment, you are giving in to the irresistible pull of the night, surrendering to the all-consuming allure that keeps you locked in your sensual dance. Suddenly, you are pulled out of your blissful daze as you notice Hogwarts student Namjoon and Navy Captain Jin enter the front door. You quickly pull apart from Jimin as you see them nearing. While you and Jimin promiscuously dancing isn't a new sight for any of your housemates, for some reason, you can't help but stop. The action even surprises you. Jimin's lust-filled eyes widen, wondering if he did something wrong.

Namjoon soon approaches behind Jimin, which scares him a little. "Made it just in time, you two."

"Namjoon!" You say in unison, but in different tones.

Namjoon looks at the two of you lovingly. "Finally, the avengers are all together." 

"Well except Yoongi hyung," Jimin points out in a somber tone.  

In that split second, you remember again that Yoongi isn’t there. You check your phone in your bag to see if he sent you any LA updates, to which he had about 5 minutes ago. Yoongi [10:23pm] : I landed. Safe and Sound. 👍

Yoongi [10:23pm] : In the city of angels without my angel :( 

Yoongi pulling out your nickname in that second text has you flustered for a second. Thank God the lighting is red here or else you’d be questioned until no end.

"Why don’t we take a picture together to send to him! Let him know we're together."

The other two men nod, and you hand your phone to Namjoon, with the longest arms, to take a selca together. The three of you squeeze together, Jimin in the middle, and Namjoon stretches his arm as far as he can to capture the perfect shot. 

"Got it!" Namjoon grins, showing the picture to all of you.

You take a moment to admire it. It's a funny picture: Namjoon with his typical fuckboy smile, Jimin kissing your temple while winking his eye at the camera, and you holding up a peace sign capturing the essence of your overall shared bond. 

You [10:29PM]: [Photo Attachment]

You [10:30PM]: Good to know, but we miss our favority kitty boy bestie here with us :(

As you send it to Yoongi, you can't help but hope he'll find a way to have a good time tonight. You wonder how things would’ve been different tonight if he was around. Would you still be lusting for Jimin while Yoongi’s with you? Or would your wicked thoughts have you wanting them both. You choose not to think about it more. In a distant city, Yoongi feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and quickly retrieves it to find a new photo message from you. Upon opening it, he sees a picture of Namjoon, Jimin, and you. While he would typically be thrilled to see a photo of all of you, an uneasy feeling creeps into the pit of his stomach when he sees Jimin kissing your temple. He decides to wait awhile until he’s more situated in his hotel room to respond.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

You tell yourself you can't continue to be around Jimin tonight. That's why you escape your two best friends and find yourself outside with Soohyun and Hwasa, navigating a makeshift haunted maze set up by DSP in their backyard. After making it out alive, the three of you decide to take a breather. It's during this moment of respite that Hwasa decides to address the elephant in the room. "So, when are you going to stop running away from Jimin tonight?" Hwasa speaks up, causing Sooyoung to gasp.

"Damn you, Ahn Hyejin, and your psychic senses!" You curse half-jokingly. Sooyoung, being candid as ever, chimes in, "To be fair, you couldn't keep your eyes off him earlier." "Honey is up to no good, it seems," Hwasa narrows her eyes at you, hinting at what she already knows about you and Yoongi, but not what's up with Jimin.

Afraid you might spill more than necessary with strangers potentially overhearing your conversation, you hastily excuse yourself, claiming you need to use the bathroom. You head back inside through the side door. As you scan the room, you don't spot Jimin anywhere, making you wonder if he's left for another party.

You’re kind of relieved you can finally breathe in peace.

You grab your phone from your bag to check to see if Yoongi had replied back to the photo from earlier, but you only see that he read it not long after you sent it. You don’t think much of it. Maybe he’s busy with the others that went on the trip with him. At the same time you feel a bit worried.

You make your way upstairs and locate a door that you assume leads to a bathroom. Jackson is standing in front of it, looking out of it. Is he high? You ask him to move, and he manages to shuffle away. In your haste, you swing open the door, slam it shut behind you, and make sure you locked it. However, once you turn around to look at your surroundings, you realize you walked into a bedroom, not a bathroom. Inside, you find Jimin sitting on the bed, holding a barely smoked blunt. The scent of marijuana hangs in the air, and the dimly lit room adds to the surreal atmosphere.

"Y/N?" Jimin's voice sounds both surprised and somewhat amused, his eyes glistening with the effects of the weed. He takes another hit from the blunt before carefully setting it aside.

God, you have no mercy tonight, it seems.

"I was trying to find the bathroom...but, um, I didn’t know you smoked weed." You comment, regarding him with a curious expression.

"Okay, well, I started smoking with Hoseok at the back of the house during the summer, but Irene didn't like the smell and told me to cut it out."

"Ah, I see." You acknowledge with a nod, the mention of Irene casting a shadow over your curiosity. Consequently, you opt not to probe further into the matter.

You remain there, gazing at Jimin, who returns your gaze intently. Although you momentarily consider fleeing the situation, for some inexplicable reason, you find yourself unable to move. Completely frozen in this moment with your best friend, trapped in what appears to be Matthew's bedroom.

Your attention dips to Jimin's rosy, plump lips, appearing irresistibly kissable. A dangerous impulse, stirred by the alcohol coursing through your veins, threatens to push you toward a regrettable choice. This isn't good. 

"Did I finally win?" Jimin giggles.

"Huh?" You respond, your perplexed expression once again betraying your internal thoughts. What does he mean? Surely not what you're thinking…

Jimin's laughter deepens, whether fueled by the weed or your confused reaction, it's hard to tell. Abruptly, he rises from the bed, grabs your hands, and pulls you back onto the bed with him. You find yourself beneath him, your breath quickening. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, studying you with admiration.

"You've finally fallen under the 'Jimin effect,' huh? Did that birthday kiss really hit you that hard?" He teases.

"Ugh!" You groan, hiding your face behind one of your hands with your phone in the other hand, letting out a resigned sigh. "I can't hide anything from you, can I?"

"I knew it!"

"Okay yes! Fine! I've been thinking about it since the party!” You admit, embarrassed to hear your own voice say this to his face.

Jimin's eyebrows arch curiously as he asks, "What have you been thinking about?"

“...Wanting to kiss you again.” You mumble, your frustration apparent.

"Then why won’t you just do it?” 

You’re caught off guard by this question. Why won’t you do it? What’s stopping you? Yoongi? You’re not dating him though. But was it ever established that you would be exclusive to each other? Your semi-intoxicated brain can’t remember what rules you two set in place. 

Though, the more you think about your answer to Jimin’s question, the more you start to remember what Yoongi asked many nights ago. Your semi-intoxicated brain struggles to recall the boundaries you had set. You told Yoongi that Jimin was like a brother who can empathize with you, but is that really the case? What if you’re more afraid of acknowledging some underlying feelings, not just for Jimin but also for Yoongi and Namjoon? In an ideal world, you’d love to spend your life with all of them, but the harsh reality might not allow it.

“I-I don’t know…” You stutter.

"Well, do you want to do it again then…" Jimin speaks slowly, as if sensing that he, too, is hesitant about what he wants to do next with you. “...Darling?”

Your nod slowly, a bit hesitant, but still eager in your actions. Recalling Jimin's preference for explicit consent, you affirm, "Yes."

With that assurance, Jimin closes the remaining distance between your lips. The moment his mouth meets yours, it's as if a long-held tension is released. The kiss is soft, a gentle exploration of the warmth and tenderness that lies beneath the surface. His fingers lightly trace the contours of your face, brushing over your cheek and down to your jaw, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. Your own hands find their way to his back, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his cape as you pull him closer.

Time seems to stand still as the world outside fades into insignificance.

Jimin's kisses gradually deepen, turning more passionate and fervent. The taste of his lips, combined with the lingering scent of weed in the air, fuels a heady desire that sweeps through you. Sour candy. It’s the only way you could describe it. Like the sweet citrus cocktail you saw him drink earlier that night. 

His fingers brush across the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbone before he cups your breast in his hand. Jimin kneads your breast over the fabric of the dress for a moment before you help him free them. He breaks the kiss to swoop down and take one of your hard nipples into his mouth. Jimin swirls his tongue once before sucking the bud into his mouth and releasing far too soon. He plants a few kisses on your exposed breasts leaving you only wanted more. 

He pulls you back to continue kissing and a soft moan escapes your lips muffled by Jimin's mouth. You can't help but think about your complicated feelings and the new questions that have surfaced. You're not sure where this will lead, but for now, all that matters is this. The sound of surrender to his advances.

“Touch me more…I want to feel you…please….”

Jimin pushes your dress up roughly and slides your panties down your legs discarding them over the end of the bed. He hungrily looks at you. Your whole body is itching for more of him. It feels like your whole body is on fire.

He brings his hand down, slipping his fingers inside of you. He moves slowly at first, teasing you like he always does. Although now, you are in a completely different situation than ever before. Your face contorts in pleasure as he changes speed, plunging his fingers in and out of your pussy with purpose.

Jimin finds your clit with the thumb of the hand deep inside you and you moan as he presses his thumb onto the sensitive area. His other fingers explore your walls, circling them softly and pushing ever so gently against them. You feel like you’re going to explode into a million pieces with each tantalizing motion of his fingers. He looks up at you as he giggles. He knows that he has corrupted you completely with his own fingers and there is no turning back now. You faintly get a sense of Deja Vu.

Your breathing becomes heavy as he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of you, faster and faster as the pleasure intensifies. As you feel you’re incredibly close to reaching an orgasm, suddenly, you hear your phone vibrate aside you. This sound catches Jimin’s attention. 

His hand moves to grab your phone to see that a text message came in.

From Yoongi.

“Yoongi hyung?”

Your eyes immediately widened, panic setting in.

“J-Jimin! Give me the phone!” You yelp out despite your hazy brain continuing to bask in the pleasure of Jimin’s fingers. You know that while Yoongi's message might be harmless, you can’t risk Jimin stumbling upon your previous conversations with him. The consequences of that discovery are unknown, and you don’t want to find out.

"But I want to reply to Hyung!" Jimin protests playfully.

"N-No, I'll reply!" You insist, desperation in your voice.

Jimin's eyes shift from the screen to you, and he asks with a hint of suspicion, "So needy…Y/N, is there something you're hiding?" 

His gaze bores into yours, and you can sense that he is more perceptive than you have anticipated.

Jimin's question hangs in the air, and you feel the weight of it pressing on you. Your hazy thoughts race as you struggle to come up with a plausible explanation.

He removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you on the brink of an orgasm with your pussy clenching around the air. The abrupt halt to the intense sensation leaves you breathless, aching for release, and a soft whimper escapes your lips as Jimin withdraws his fingers. His revelation, however, catches you by surprise, and you are momentarily stunned.

"I have an idea of what's been going on," He admits, his voice low and laced with a suspicious bounce in the tone. "But I want to hear it from you. What's going on with you and Hyung?"

Your mind races, torn between loyalty to Yoongi and the trust you hold for Jimin. Your immediate urge is to lie, but Jimin has known you for years, and lying to his face would hurt you and feel disrespectful towards him. On the other hand, you told Yoongi you wouldn’t tell anyone in the house and you wouldn’t want him to get hurt either.

Jimin's proximity makes it even more difficult to keep your secrets hidden. He leans in close, his warm breath against your ear as he whispers, "If you tell me, I'll keep going. If you don't, we stop, and we can pretend this never happened."

A part of Jimin thinks he’s going too far with this game, but after the break up with Irene, he knew immediately what he wanted. You. He spent far too long running away from his own feelings. If he keeps doing that, you will eventually leave his side permanently. He cares too much about you and doesn’t want someone else to pull you away. He is unsure if his Hyungs feel the same about you.

His offer hangs in the air, a tempting proposition. You wrestle with your thoughts, torn between loyalty, desire, and the need for honesty. 

As if the current atmosphere isn’t tense enough, Yoongi proceeds to call you, which you identify by his customized ringtone. 

Against all odds in this enclosed space, you respond.

“Jimin…you can hate me for this and I have my reasons for wanting this, but for the past few weeks…”  You take a deep breathe before saying what you most likely will regret telling him. God, you need to pray that this will end well somehow.

“I’ve been sleeping with Yoongi.”

----

tbc!!! a/n: i hope i left y'all wanting to learn more about what's going to happen. do you have an theories. i'd love to heart about them so lmk hehehe thank you all for reading! i had to post this just in time for halloween but i wanted it take my time fleshing it out for y'all before letting this work fly out. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! reblog, like, share with friends!

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

24 hours

Hey so this was a request from @cici0love on wattpad for an Alex x intern!reader so hope you like it!

Pairing Alex Karev x fem!intern!reader                                                                                                                  Word count: 1.3k

!!NOT PROOFREAD!!                                                                                                                                                        Warnings: none

(Alex is an attending in this) -  Also I apologise for any goofy spacing.  I wrote this on my laptop and it does the spaces between the speech all funky :(

Alex POV:

I hate today. Too many stupid kids coming into the ER and extending my shift since Robbins is in a super long surgery. I should just hand the work over to my interns but if I'm gunna be honest the only intern I'd trust to cover the pit is already elbow deep in some guys abdomen. Literally. She was called into trauma 1 like 20 minutes ago and she had to stop this guy's internal bleeding using her hand so now she has to go up to the OR with him briefly so he doesn't bleed out. But, if I'm being completely honest with you if she comes back, I kinda don't wanna leave. I mean yes, I have been here for about 19 hours at this point but who cares? If I get to see the woman I'm falling head over heels for it's worth it.  Wow, I've never felt like this about someone, like I want to get serious with them. What is she doing to me?!

Time skip to when reader is out of the OR

"Dr Karev?" I hear the sweetest voice say from behind me

"Yeah?" I say as I turn round and give her a tired smile

"Oh wow, uhm, I was going to ask to scrub in on your next surgery but oh my. You look like a zombie you need to go home."

"Speak for yourself." I say chuckling at her comment and the irony of it.

"Can't, I'm on a 24 hour." 

"On a Friday? Man that must suck."

"Yeah it kinda does but, at least you're here with me. That makes it a bit better."

I look at her a little stunned at the flirting but bask in it nonetheless. 

"I could say the same for you, I mean I feel like you're the only reason I even tolerate interns anymore."

She blushed at this comment which makes my stupid little heart swell with pride and my stomach to fill with dumb butterflies. Shit, I really like her. I tell her she can scrub in and we head up to OR 2 and start a bowel resection on a 2 week old baby boy. He has had many complications however, this bowel resection may just be the tipping point.  I don't think he can handle much more but, the parents want to try everything so I do. However, I may have failed to mention this to Y/N which I have a feeling may be a mistake but oh well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Time skip to half way through the surgery

"You wanna resect the rest of the bowel?" 

"Really?" She looked at me with wide eyes. Oh my god her eyes, they're so beautiful. Anyways...

"Yeah 100% go for it." Se looked at mme and mutters a shy 'Thank you' and begins. 

So far she's done everything perfect, down to the last minute detail but, like I said. I don' think the kid can take it.

Reader POV:

"Doctor, BP dropping." I look up startled, how could his BP drop? Iv'e done everything right. I think I have at least... Shit did I mess his up?

"It's okay don't worry." Alex says to me as I look up at him clearly worried about what I'm doing wrong. 

All of a sudden the baby's heart stops.

"Get me the paddles and charge to 15!" I yell out to the nurses still trying o figure out what went wrong. "Clear!" I say as I shock the baby for the first time.

7 times. I shocked the kid seven times and noting. I call time of death and rush out of the OR. I hear footsteps behind me and know who it is instantly. I try to walk faster so he doesn't have to yell at me and thankfully I'm saved by the parents stopping Alex to ask how it went. Oh no, the parents. I decide Alex has done this long enough to know how to deliver bad news on the behalf of someone else's mistakes so I let him get on with it. It hurts even more that he's the one mad at me because I have a massive crush on him and we work really well together; I'm hoping to do paediatrics as a specialty as well. So great, my entire comfy life and rituals of greeting and teasing him are gone out the window.  I go up to the paeds floor and find ann on-call room, lay down and start crying. I killed a baby.

Alex POV:

"Goddamnit." I mutter under my breath as I realised I lost Y/N.  The parents were obviously upset but very understanding as the knew the risk and it just didn't go their way. So, now I had my favourite intern (and just person in general at this point) somewhere in the hospital, probably crying, probably beating herself up for no reason and probably crushed her confidence. Great job Alex.

I make my way to the nurses station and ask if any of them have seen y/n/n. 

"I saw Dr Y/l/n go into the on-call room, she looked a bit upset is she okay?" The nurse asked worry lacin her voice. Damn, she's so sweet she's even befriended the nurses (who usually hate surgeons).

"Yeah, she'll be okay just gunna go talk to her." I respond and make a beeline for the on-call room. 

As I walk in my heart breaks as I hear quiet sobs coming from one of the bottoms bunks. 

"Look before you say anything I'm really sorry, I don't know what I did wrong and I'll go tell the parents it's my fault that their kid's dead-" She starts rambling and sitting up assuming I'm mad at her which tears my heart apart even more. I cut her off by sitting next to her and wrapping my arms around her and guiding her head into my shoulder. 

"It's not your fault, okay? I really need you to believe that. The parents knew they were taking a risk sending him into that OR. He was a dead man- or baby should I say, before he was even wheeled into the OR. You resected his bowel perfectly but his body just couldn't take  the strain. You did everything right." She wraps her arms around me even tighter after I said that. I lift her head out of the nape of my neck and hook my fingers around her chin. 

"I think you're too tired to be here, and plus you've been on call now for what.." I quickly check my watch. "Boom, 24 hours. You're done and I'm taking you back to mine so I know you're okay." I say to her.

"Aww you going soft  Dr Karev?" she says teasingly.

"Only for you." I reply while looking her straight in the eye, it's now or never.

Reader POV:

He's  leaning in one minute and the next thing I know he's pulled me up onto his lap and put his arms around my waist to bring me closer to him. The kisses are getting sloppy and rushed now and I need him desperately but I'm just so tired. I assume he feels  the same because he pulls away and says, "As much as I want to, if we did I think I'd pass out while we we doing it." I gugge  at his response and agree with him.

"Look, how about I take you back too mine, we sleep, we go to work tomorrow and get off early because we both just did 24 hours , I'll take you out for dinner and then we'll continue where we left off here when we get back.?  How's that sound?" A crimson red layer paints my face as he finishes his sentence. 

"That sounds amazing, you know, maybe we should do 24 hour shifts more if it ends like this everytime." I gesture to me in his lap and he laughs and says we should. I smile contently at him and then wrap my arms around his neck and nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck. He is literally perfect.

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 5: The Withering of Hearts (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 5: The Withering of Hearts

The Seven Kingdoms is plagued with a succession crisis, and drunken impulse never leads to a good end.

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

Warnings: Extreme slow burn, angst, Daemon being an ass, excessive costume detailing 

Word Count: 3.4k words 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: thank you guys for the comments you left on the last chapter! it was really nice to see you guys theorising about what would happen next haha 👀 most unfortunately, the slowburn must keep slow-burning, and Daemon isn’t done stirring up shit yet lol. happy reading! PS, please see the end of the chapter for an extended A/N to get a rough grasp of how the next two chapters will be like! 

wonderful dividers courtesy of @firefly-graphics​  !  

Scarce had a week passed since the funeral of Queen Aemma, and the Red Keep was once again abuzz with a new scandal. 

Prince Daemon had been caught at a brothel, raising a drunken toast to the late Queen and her ill-fated babe. 

He had toasted Baelon as the Heir for a Day. 

That fucking bastard. 

Fuming, you lurked in the shadows of the secret passages by the throne room, listening as Viserys denounced his brother in an angry tirade. ‘How dare he?’ your eyes were shining with ferocity as you paced the halls, eyes fixed on the proceedings in the throne room. You had guessed the truth after all: Daemon only wanted to use the power vacuum left by the death of Aemma and Baelon to instil himself as the heir to the Iron Throne. You couldn’t believe you actually thought the advice he offered on the cliffs was an act of goodwill. That maybe, Daemon was not the vicious, annoying little bastard you once knew. 

Alas, you were wrong. And what a fool you felt. 

Your lips were pressed in a thin line as you watched Viserys disinherit Daemon permanently from the line of succession, and watched with your very eyes as the relationship between the two brothers deteriorated into ruin. 

What you didn’t know however, that you had also just witnessed a part of Daemon’s heart wither away into nothing but coldness, as he heard his brother’s proclamation. ‘Was this what grief felt like?’ Daemon bitterly pondered. ‘At long last, I understand how she felt that day.’ 

You moved to navigate out of the secret passageways as soon as Daemon turned his heel to leave the throne room, intent on cornering him for an explanation, or to scream at him. Perhaps both. 

Daemon was lost in a flurry of furious thoughts as he saw a familiar figure step into his way, obstructing his path. Her chin was jutted out defiantly, and the expression of anger on her face was visible. For a moment, Daemon thought she looked like a true Targaryen, with fire and blood running through her veins. He held up a hand to stop whatever reprimand she had for him, eyes dark, “You saw everything that happened in the throne room. I have no need for you to parrot whatever words my dear brother has already bestowed upon me.” 

You have never wanted to slap a man so badly. “Have you no shame?” you demanded, temper flaring. “How could you have been so cruel?” “it was a drunken jape, made of impulse. Why does no one understand that?” Daemon seethed. Your jaw dropped at his audacity, and you stepped forward to jab a finger into his chest, “You, Daemon Targaryen, are truly the scum of the earth. Your nephew has just died. Your sister-in-law has just died! And here you are, making drunken japes with poor taste. Are you so utterly boorish that you would stoop so low to mock the dead?” 

Daemon listened to her, an impatient look upon his face. “Are you quite finished, my lady?” Your eyes widened in outrage, and suddenly, it was like you lost control. You lifted your hand to slap him, but he caught it with a vice grip, eyes narrowed. “Let me go!” you struggled to twist out of his grip, but it was futile. Daemon took the chance to drag you to a more secluded corner of the castle, eyes blazing as he braced himself to confess the truth. 

“If you would just shut up, and listen to me, you daft woman, then I would’ve told you that I didn’t do it!” Daemon snapped. Your jaw sagged, “And now you’re lying to evade your responsibility? Seven Hells, Daemon, you never cease to surprise me.” 

“I didn’t!” Daemon nearly yelled out. His brother would not listen to the truth, but he had a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, Y/N would be the exception. That she would be the only person who didn’t constantly see the worst in him. 

“Aemma was my sister-in-law, and while I did not cross paths oft enough with her that we would consider each other close, she was still dear to me. She was kind to me. Why would I dishonour her memory so? And my nephew. I harbour no grudge against his memory. He was a babe who perished tragically. Do you think I would’ve stooped so low to the point where I would mock my family? Think rationally, byka zaldrizes.” Daemon stared deep into your eyes, an almost pleading look in his eyes. Please, Daemon thought, please believe me. Don’t see as the monster everyone sees me as. Please. 

You bit your lip, looking into Daemon’s violet eyes, glinting orange in the firelight, and pondered on his words. It was true, Daemon had never shown any ill will towards Aemma, and they had always treated each other respectfully. How could you have never considered this possibility? You felt a little ashamed that you had assumed the worst of Daemon, although it had felt like habit by now, but you had grown up with him. You’d like to believe, that under all his brashness and arrogance, that he was still that same boy who snuck out with you nearly every night when you were both children to the kitchens, giggling as you munched on lemon cakes and strawberry tarts. That underneath all his brutality and his lusts, he was still a good person. Your eyes softened as you saw the look in Daemon’s eyes, beseeching you, to believe him. 

Daemon felt his hope dwindle away as he watched you hesitate for a long time, and his eyes began to darken again. So she is the same as everyone else, he thought with much gloom. But your next words took him by surprise. “I...believe you,” you said quietly. 

Daemon stared at Y/N after the words left her lips, lilac eyes filled with disbelief. Then he threw back his head as a hoarse laugh burst from his lips, and he let go of your wrist. You watched uneasily as he continued laughing like a crazed madman, but you said you believed he didn’t do it, and it was always difficult to sway you from your convictions. 

Daemon finally stopped laughing, though a twisted smirk still painted his lips, but it looked more pained than amused. “How is it that you always seem to have faith in me, while even my own brother cannot seem to conjure up the slightest hint of trust for me?” “I know the calibre of your character, Daemon,” you said quietly. “You may be many things, but even you would not be predisposed to such innate cruelness.” 

There was a pause as the both of them eyed each other, Daemon with some disbelief, and you with faith glittering in your eyes. Daemon sometimes had a hard time reconciling how you could both be so naive and wise. “If only,” Daemon muttered bitterly, breaking the silence, “Someone like you was the Hand of the King, instead of that power-hungry leech of a Cunttower.” “The Hand was the one who slandered you?” you blinked in surprise. Daemon let out a snort at your reaction. “You do know that that cunt would never stop until he turns my brother against me, do you not?” 

“But-” you inhaled sharply, “The Hand serves the realm. Otto Hightower might hold a strong dislike for you, but he is not one to let his pettiness blind his judgement-” 

“And what do you know of that cunt’s nature? Do not act as though you know him well,” Daemon spat out, hand running through his hair in frustration. “Would you be so dumb as to believe it is not in his nature to concoct such a scandal to sow discord between me and my brother? He has done so many times, and he will not cease until he has what he wants: which is uncontrolled access to my brother so that he may sway him with the venom he spouts from his lips.” His purple eyes were dark with rage, and his fists were clenched as he gritted his teeth. 

Suddenly, without warning, he swung and struck his fist on the wall. You covered your mouth to stifle your gasp, wide eyes watching as he breathed heavily and withdrew his fist from the wall. A sheen of scarlet covered his knuckles. For a long moment, the air was filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing. 

“House Targaryen cannot stand like this,” his voice was more tempered now, yet more steely. “We were raised with the belief to stay together. That no matter the circumstances, the house of the dragon cannot divide.” His voice grew more agitated as he began pacing around in circles, while you observed him warily and listened, knowing that no good would come out of interrupting him. “What happened to preservation? What happened to ensuring our dynasty lasts for eternity?” he snapped, banging his fists on the walls once again in frustration. “My dearest brother always stressed the importance of family. Yet he continuously allows those scum on the Small Council to rule his kingdom, and worse still, he allows that Hightower cunt to guide him.” 

In a heartbeat, he was in front of you once more, seizing your shoulders in a vice grip. You stiffened at the sudden gesture, but there was no stopping him now. “He should’ve made me Hand. I am his kin, I am of his blood,” he nearly shouted out those last two words. “I would never steer my brother in the wrong direction. If he would have more faith in me instead of those lickspittle lords, House Targaryen could surpass even the noble dragonlords of Old Valyria at the height of their power. Yet he is blind to all that, preferring to stew idly.” You were unsure of what to say, however Daemon paid no heed to your speechlessness, turning away from you and muttering, “He will see that without me, he would not be able to run this city, much less the realm.” 

It was then you finally found your voice once more. “What are you planning to do?” He turned to you, with a baleful gleam in his eyes. In that moment, he looked like Balerion’s fury reborn once more. Your heart filled with dread at his next words. 

“Wait.” 

You watched pensively as he stalked down the halls, his demeanour much like a predator stalking its prey. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he stilled, and said coldly, “You should wisen up, you know.” 

You furrowed your brows. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” 

He didn’t turn around, yet you could picture the menace on his face as he spoke his next words. “Just think, if court gossip was enough to get me, a Targaryen prince, to be disinherited and banished, what exactly do you think it can do to you, a mere lady of no status and influence at court?” 

“I’m not like you-” Daemon didn’t let you finish. He knew his words were cruel, but with the fire pumping through his veins and the roaring in his ears, seven hells be damned if he was still going to be polite. You needed to know, you needed to understand, that survival was a treacherous thing here in the Red Keep, how relying on the power of people above you for protection was foolish. People with power are oft mercurial, and once the tide of their favour turned against you, like it had with Daemon…

He needed you to see just how much danger you were in staying in this court of vipers. 

“Who knows, maybe you would end up ordered home by your lord father and forced to marry by the morrow. Seven Hells,” he chuckled darkly, recalling your conversation at the cliffs, “Maybe you might even be ordered out of court by the King. He can barely stomach the sight of my niece after Aemma’s death. What will he do to you, who was so close to my dear late sister-in-law?” He heard a shocked gasp behind him, but he didn’t pause in his tirade, though a twinge of something like guilt filled his chest. But he wanted you to know, to see, how this court was filled with nothing but vicious schemers who would not care a fig about her. And so, with malice in his voice, he forced out the final crushing blow. “Mayhaps you will end up like my dear sister-in-law even, her belly cut open as if she were nothing but an animal. Even if she had been Queen, that did not save her regardless.” 

You stared at Daemon’s back with wide eyes, a mix of rage and horror seeping through your bones. Somehow his words brought about such a chill in you that even the coldest winter nights were incapable of. “Have a good night, Lady Y/N. Think about what I said. I trust that you are clever enough to come to your senses.” ‘You have to tread carefully now, Y/N,’ was Daemon’s final thought as he stalked away from your still frame. 

You waited until his heavy footsteps faded away, before slowly sinking down onto the floor, mind in a daze. 

You stayed there for a long time, unable to move a muscle. Daemon’s cruel last words had conjured up a sleight of images in your head, each more horrific than the last, and all of Aemma, of being forced to wed, your freedom snatched from your very eyes. Eventually, the sound of footsteps approaching made you aware of your whereabouts once more, and you quickly stood up before a servant wandered across your despairing frame and asked you some awkward questions. Numbly, you made your way through the halls, back to Aemma’s apartments. You paused in front of a familiar door. Aemma’s bedchambers had been left untouched since her death, save for the removal of her blood soaked sheets. You thought you could not bear to even be in the place where your dear friend had breathed her last, painful moments in this world, but you needed the company tonight, even if it was the company of a woman long dead. You inhaled shakily before opening the doors. 

The room was quiet, the stench of blood having not quite dissipated yet, which sent a wave of nausea rolling through your gut. You ventured towards the lounge where Aemma used to sit, where you had fed her grapes and laughed with her no less than a week ago. You took a seat gingerly. Your gaze wandered across the room, before it fixed grimly on Aemma’s deathbed. 

Moonlight streamed through the windows, and you wrapped your shawl tighter around you as a cold gust of wind enveloped the room. You had been winded and horrified, and even angry at Daemon’s words when they were first spoken. You wanted to ignore his words as that of someone who was bitter and raging, but your thoughts kept spiralling into terrifying scenarios of your freedom being snatched right in front of your eyes, and being utterly powerless to do anything to stop it. You had spent so long, relishing in the freedom of being home at the Red Keep, and now, you realised darkly, that you had taken it for granted. 

Tracing your fingers along the soft material of the lounge, you bit your lip as you imagined the wide smile Aemma always reserved for you and her soft voice, like she was still here, sitting right next to you. “Aemma…” you thought mournfully, tears clouding your vision, “You always knew the right thing to say, and the right thing to do. What course of action would you have advised me to do?’ You tilted your head back, resting your head on the lounge backing, letting your tears fall freely. ‘I wish you were here,’ you sniffled, ‘I wish I had saved you.’ Mayhaps the thought was utterly ludicrous, but you felt guilty and pained that you had allowed yourself to get distracted by the tourney. ‘I should have insisted on staying by your side,’ your thoughts tumbled out bitterly, like a violently raging storm. As wishful as it was, but you thought, maybe you could’ve prevented it all. Maybe you could have pleaded with Viserys that the effort was useless or fiercely declared that you would snatch the Maester’s own blade and slaughter whomever dared harm Aemma. However, even you could not change the gods’ plan: the babe had been in breech, and Aemma’s time in this world was fated to be cut short no matter what. But you didn’t even care to think of that fact, too lost in your self-loathing and blame. 

Just then, you felt a soft hand on your shoulder, jolting you out of your reverie. Startled, you looked around the room. There was no one there. But you could’ve sworn that for one moment…there had been a presence here. Could…could it have been Aemma’s ghost? 

Heart thumping, you stood up with shaky legs and began to tidy up the various misplaced items in Aemma’s room, like you had done so many times before. The familiar ritual calmed you down, and allowed for you to gather your thoughts and circumstances coherently again. Perhaps it was coupled with the strange phantom presence you swore you sensed in the room somehow, but you pulled yourself out of your grief long enough to settle on a resolute thought. 

‘Daemon was right. I do need to wake up. It’s time I stop relying on the grace of those more powerful than me and start fighting to protect myself.’

In that moment, even the Seven would be taken aback by the fierce fire that shone in Lady Y/N Tyrell’s eyes. The naive girl of 23 was gone, and someone more hardened had replaced her. 

‘No matter the cost, I must stay at the Red Keep. I will not end up shoved into a fate I do not desire. I refuse.’ 

‘I have a plan.’ 

The bells tolled in celebration as all the lords and ladies of the realm were gathered before the Iron Throne, save for one. The Rogue Prince soothed his mount, the Blood Wyrm, Caraxes, as the figure of Lady Mysaria approached. 

Meanwhile, a lady with a mind of steel and heart of determination stood with her hands clasped, next to the Lady Alicent and Lord Hand, where the King had insisted for her to be. The lords who were acquainted with her whispered to themselves, having known of her hot-tempered past and rivalry with none other than the Rogue Prince himself. “The Rose with Thorns of Fire,” some whispered. “The third head of the dragon,” some chuckled, referring to the affectionate nickname the late Prince Baelon had given to your rather unusual trio: you, Daemon and Viserys. 

The lady heard them all, but she was silent as she watched each of the great lords of the realm swear their fealty to the new heir, the first Princess of Dragonstone. Clad in a dark blue gown of silk and brocade with a square neckline, the dress drew whispers for its visible opulence, even compared to the other ladies who were decked out in their finest. The bodice consisted of intricate diamond patterning with beading, and the gown had puffed sleeves that were banded with a few stripes of rocaille brocade, and the ruffles of her chemise were visible at her neckline and at the end of her puffed sleeves. Underneath the ruffles, however, were long fitted sleeves that were strangely reminiscent of…dragon scales? It was a look that undoubtedly signified the allegiances of Lady Y/N to House Targaryen, as well as her close bond to their reigning monarch. It was a look that exuded power. 

Far away in the Dragonpit, Daemon took one last look at the Red Keep, lips pursed as his mind lingered on that one person. But then he shook his head, and bade Caraxes to soar through the skies. 

As the lords and ladies in the throne room burst into applause and bowed for their new heir: The Realm’s Delight, no one but you could hear the distinct screech of the Blood Wyrm as it lifted into the skies. 

You lifted your head, and smiled encouragingly at Rhaenyra, who, while visibly looked startled, returned a genuine, warm smile. 

The game of thrones had gained a new player, forged by Daemon Targaryen’s hand, and time would only strengthen her mettle.

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish @urmomsgirlfriend1 @thelittleswanao3 @animelover18 @llovinjoonie @gracielikegrapes @salembridger @itszzmoon @kmmg98​ @travelingmypassion​ @zae5​

Daemon General Taglist: @aiyaiy​ 

those who are bolded are those who couldn’t be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist for this fic or for my other hotd characters in the comments or through this form! thank you for your support 💗

translation: byka zaldrizes - little dragon 

also, a sketch i did of y/n’s gown at rhaenyra’s investiture :)) uncolourised because I’m lazy 😭 hopefully it’ll give you a better visualization though (also a/n below! pls scroll to read :))

y/n about to become the fashion icon of westeros 💪🏻

A/N (pls read!) : and that makes chapter 5! chapter 6 will unfortunately, we will not be focusing a lot on daemon for the next 2 chapters as we will be delving more into how Y/N attempts to navigate court politics and keep herself at the red keep. in other words, character development for y/n and more moments with alicent and rhaenyra, as well as viserys (ugh). this fic is titled se zaldrizoti’ prumia for a reason, after all, it’s the dragons’ heart, not the dragon’s heart, so Y/N needs her other relationships with the other characters. i hope you guys will be as excited for the other chapters as i am though, because i love writing about politics and character dynamics outside of romantic relations. thank you for your support! 💗

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for agreeing to be a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding even though I think she's making a huge mistake?

(Emojis so I recognize it 👰‍♀️💍🤵)

So my (24F) cousin Anna (21F) got engaged at the start of December. This was really surprising to me because the last time I saw her at Thanksgiving she was just starting to get back into dating via tinder after a couple bad breakups, and she wasn't actively seeing anyone yet. When I got home for Christmas break, my mother told me that Anna had gotten engaged to and moved in with her new boyfriend, Evan (~22/23M), an army guy she'd met three weeks before and that no one but her immediate family had even met yet.

Our family has always been pretty close, and this was concerning for a lot of reasons. 1) she literally just had a nasty breakup with her rebound boyfriend after a nasty breakup with her last long-term relationship, making this guy her 4th serious boyfriend this year, 2) she historically has very bad taste in men, every boyfriend she has ever had had treated her horribly and she ties her entire self-worth up into how her boyfriend sees her so she's literally never been single for more than a couple weeks since high school, 3) her older sister (28F) literally just left a 13 year abusive relationship with the guy who started grooming her when she was 15 and he was 28, 4) the groom is about to ship out for a 9 month deployment a month after their March wedding and military men are notorious for cheating or divorcing on long deployments, 5) she wants her dream wedding in March (giving us only 2 months to plan and fundraise), despite her parents already being in tight financial straits bc they started building a house right before unexpectedly needing to take in and help provide for their eldest daughter and her two kids and both my grandparents (who live with them) having sudden drops in their health to the point where my grandfather probably will pass in the next couple months and my grandmother could pass at any time (though tbf, were pretty sure no one has told Anna this since my grandparents don't want to scare her and her mom's in denial).

I also just really don't like the groom bc the one time I met him he made a ton of racist and homophobic jokes despite there being multiple black and queer family members present, but if that were the only thing I could probably bite my tongue since I don't think that's something that bothers her or anyone else in the family. I'm just really worried about her, since it seems like she's been going through something for a while and I know how hard this is on my whole family, especially my grandparents, since we all are really scared about what's going to happen to her if things go wrong and considering the circumstances, that's a good chance this will go wrong.

I want to make it clear, I do really want this to work out for her. She's head over heels in love and he seems to care about her too. I just don't expect it to go well and I've said as much to anyone who asked how I feel about it.

Here's where I could be the asshole: Anna's really having a hard time with the entire family telling her this is a bad and impulsive idea, feeling like everyone who has a problem with it isn't supporting her. She called and asked me to be a bridesmaid, specifically because "you've always looked out for and supported me even when no one else did, so I really want you to be my bridesmaid." I told her I would love to be there and support her however she wanted me to, and I fully intend to be the best bridesmaid I can be because I want this to be a happy memory for her and to take as much stress off her and her parents as possible. But now she thinks I support this marriage when I definitely don't and have been open about that with both our moms as well as her sister (the maid of honor), my SIL (also a bridesmaid), and my brother (a groomsman), all of whom are in the same boat.

So, am I the asshole for agreeing to be my cousin's bridesmaid while thinking she's making a big mistake?

What are these acronyms?

[daisynik7]

Primetime

Part 3 of Dirty Thirty

🎶 Baby it's a prime time for our love, ain't nobody peekin' but the stars above. It's a prime time for our love, and heaven is betting on us. 🎶

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: Switching POVs (Kishibe third-person, reader second-person), vaginal sex (cowgirl, doggy, missionary), nipple play, spit play, cunnilingus, spanking, breeding kink, daddy kink, lots of fluff, pet names (princess, baby)

Word Count: ~6.5k

Summary: You and Kishibe are officially a couple. These are the little moments that all lead up to the big one.    

Notes: I did it. I wrote a Part 3; I hope you all like it! Title inspired by the song “Primetime” by Janelle Monae ft. Miguel, definitely recommend listening to this to set the mood right! Please read the first two parts, linked below! Likes, reblogs, and comments are all super appreciated, would love to hear what you all think!

Part 1 - Dirty Thirty | Part 2 - After Last Night | ao3

Kishibe doesn’t know how to be a good boyfriend. 

It’s been almost a month since he and his girlfriend started dating. This morning, he displays a photo booth picture at his cubicle. She convinced him to do it while they were at the beach boardwalk this past weekend, and of course, he couldn’t refuse her. He never can, despite being opposed to corny shit like that. But even he can admit that the photos turned out decent. 

Nobody is at their desk unless they’re filling out paperwork, so he doesn’t think anyone will notice. However Himeno, one of his current protégés, is keen, observant, and a goddamn nosey pest. 

“Master, is this your girlfriend?” She points at the photo strip, a hint of excitement bubbling behind her typically calm demeanor.

Not wanting this to be a bigger deal than it needs to be, he casually answers, “Yes.”

“I see.” There’s a clever smirk on her face, as if she’s plotting something cheeky to say. He’s surprised when instead, she comments, “That is a very nice picture.”

He grumbles in response, not used to small talk involving his personal life. 

“How long have you been dating?”

“Almost a month.” He pretends to be preoccupied with organizing all his forms, avoiding eye contact, wishing for this conversation to end. 

“What are you doing for your anniversary?”

This gets his attention. “Huh?”

“Your one-month anniversary. What are your plans to celebrate?”

Finally, he meets her gaze, setting aside his stack of papers. “People celebrate that?”

“Well, couples do, yes.”

He stares at her, unsure how to react. It’s been decades since his last relationship, probably during grade school if he’s remembering correctly. Obviously, the standards have changed since then, but to celebrate a month of dating? It seems trivial to him. Then again, he hasn’t had a serious girlfriend as an adult. It’s going extremely well between them, and he doesn’t want to mess this up, especially only after a few weeks into it. 

Too proud to ask his junior for advice, he takes his lunch break to eat a bowl of ramen while scrolling through his phone, searching every article he can find on how to celebrate anniversaries. He finds a few ideas that he can get on board with, and some he completely tosses out the window because of how fucking ridiculous they are. 

By Friday night, the actual day of their anniversary, he has a plan. A little before 6:00 PM, he buzzes her in and waits for the familiar knock on the door. When he opens it, she greets him with a warm smile. “Kishibe.”

She wears a modest dress, having just come from the office. Overnight bag in hand, ready to spend another weekend here at his apartment. Once inside, she drops her belongings and wraps her arms around him. “Hi.”

He returns her embrace, inhaling the pleasant scent he yearns for on the days they’re not together. “How are you?”

“Tired. I’m ready for a nice, relaxing weekend with my boyfriend.” Every time she calls him that, his chest swells with an odd sensation. He hasn’t gotten used to it yet, but it’s not unwanted. In fact, he quite likes it.

As she removes her shoes by the door, he sneaks into the kitchen to retrieve the bouquet he purchased earlier from a local florist. Thirty red roses, one for each day they’ve been a couple. He read online that this is considered romantic. 

He walks towards her with the bouquet in his grasp, her eyes and smile widening at the scene before her. “What’s this?”

“Happy one-month anniversary.” He thrusts the roses forward, hoping she takes it. She continues to stare at him with a big grin on her face.

“What?” He’s blushing now, nervous that this is all wrong. “Say something.”

She grabs the flowers, lifting them towards her nose to sniff. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He clears his throat. “We also have reservations at your favorite restaurant in an hour.” 

At this, she lets out a small squeal. “Really? You didn’t have to do any of this,” she says, face still buried in the flowers, clearly enjoying this.

“I wanted to.” 

She sets the roses down on the counter, stepping towards him to tug playfully on his tie. “You really are the sweetest. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything. I’m such a terrible girlfriend.” 

“The worst,” he smirks, sliding his hands around her waist. 

“Can I make it up to you?” She kisses him, slow and passionate, using his tie to pull him deeper. “Show you how sorry I am?”

He plays along, knowing exactly where this is leading. “You better be sorry. I’m pretty upset.”

“I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me, then.” 

“We’ll see.” They walk to the couch in tandem, gazing into each other’s lust filled eyes.

When he’s sat, she straddles him. “Do you remember the night we first met? We were right here on this couch.”

“How can I forget?” He roams up and down her back, the fabric of her dress silky on his calloused fingers.

“Well, my memory is a little hazy. Remind me.” She guides his hands to her chest, kneading her breasts.

“You’re being very naughty right now,” he mutters in his low voice. “First, no gift. Now this. Seems like you want to be punished.”

“Yeah, I do. I need to be punished. I’m a very bad girlfriend.” She peers at him with a desperate expression, eyes gleaming with desire. He can’t help but falter under her gaze.

“Fuck, you’re asking for it.” He lifts the hem of her dress over her ass, feeling for her panties. Sliding his fingers beneath the lace, bunching it in his fist it to bury between her ass cheeks, exposing her beautiful bottom. Perfectly bare for a good spanking. She sucks in a breath, anticipating it, aching for it. He presses a gentle kiss to her ear before delivering a loud smack, focused on the jiggle of her supple flesh upon contact. 

“Fuck, baby. Do it again,” she demands, grinding on his lap.

He repeats, this time on the opposite side, massaging the tender skin after. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She presses her forehead to his. “You never do. Don’t worry.”

They kiss as they strip their remaining clothes. Soon, they’re completely naked on the couch, her on his lap, kissing along his neck. He reaches his fingers towards her pussy, caressing his thumb on her clit. 

“Baby,” she whines. “I want you inside me. I want to ride this cock until we both come.”

“Then do it, sweetie. I’m all yours.” 

It’s reminiscent of their first time. They were hasty that night, desperate for a quick fuck with a total stranger. Indulging in wicked fantasies they both needed satiated. This time, it’s more intimate. He pays attention to the sound of her heartbeat, the warmth in her cheeks, goosebumps forming on the most sensitive spots of her skin, the angelic sounds coming from her lips. Memorizing it all until it’s ingrained in his mind.

His cock is sprung against his abdomen, already leaking precum at the tip. He grabs hold of his erection, rubbing the head onto her puffy clit, tapping it loudly. Wet slaps spurring her to rut into his lap faster. Her hands are clasped around her tits, fingers pinching at her hardening nipples, erotic as ever in front of him. It’s a captivating sight he’s seen before, but always marvels, still in disbelief at his luck one month ago when he first laid eyes on her.

He strokes himself, spreading precum along the shaft, though it’s not enough. “Spit on it, princess. Get it wet for me.”

She nods, bowing her head to dribble a warm stream of saliva down onto his cock, coating his dick. Slick enough, she lifts up to position him at her entrance, sinking down gradually until she’s sat on his lap again, wiggling her ass to get herself comfortable. 

He hums, relishing the sensation of being nestled inside her precious cunt, holding her in a snug embrace. They stay like this for a moment, him sliding one hand around her breast, kissing her nipple. 

“Kishibe,” she breathes out, eager for more. 

He sucks it plump against his lips, flicking his tongue on it, listening for her pleasured moans with each lick. His cock twitches inside her, still hard, surrounded by her wet heat. The temptation to fuck her is almost irresistible; however, seeing her in this blissful state is too marvelous to rush. 

“Baby, fuck,” she whines, as he works on her other tit, pulling it taut with his mouth. It’s his favorite, witnessing her unravel on top of him. And tonight is a celebration. It makes it all the more special.

Releasing her, he leans back, holding her sides once more, watching her slowly rock back and forth on his thighs. “Go ahead. Ride me. Fuck me till we both come. You can do it.” 

Using her knees for leverage, she rises slightly, keeping just his tip inside, them sinks back down, repeating so that she’s bouncing on his cock steadily. 

“There you go. Use that cock, baby. Just like that,” he whispers, staring at his dick disappearing into her pussy. He stays still, letting her do all the work, resisting the urge to slam his hips into her. He wants to savor this, indulge in it as long as he possibly can. 

Cupping her face, he teases her lips with his thumb, slipping it inside her mouth for her to suck on. She holds his wrist, sticking it further down her tongue, spreading her saliva around him. He pulls it out, a string of shiny spit connected to her lips as he reaches down to touch her clit. 

“Ah, Kishibe. That feels so good,” she praises, riding him faster. 

“You’re getting close, I know it. Come for me, baby. Make us both come.” He holds her close, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths, messy and wet. His thumb toys with her swollen clit, her wanton moans vibrating against his lips. His abdomen is clenched tight, ready for release. He wants to spill inside her, give her his all, just as she does for him.

Unable to resist any longer, he grips her bottom, holding her in place. He starts thrusting up into her, feet planted firmly to the floor, couch squeaking with every plunge of his hips. She’s tight around him, slick already creamy on his shaft, her fingers rubbing fast on her bud to reach her climax faster. Her high-pitched whimpers and obscene squelches of arousal spur him on, driving him further and further off the edge. They come together, cum filling up her pussy until it’s leaking between them, the sticky aftermath evidence of their passionate love making. They catch their breaths, Kishibe relaxing on the couch as she slumps over him, face buried in his neck. Soon, she starts giggling. He can’t help but join. 

“You really are a terrible girlfriend, making me come right before dinner,” he teases her.

“I had to do my part after you planned such a lovely evening.” She sighs happily. “I’m so lucky to have a thoughtful boyfriend.” 

“It’s really nothing,” he waves off.

“It’s definitely something. I’m truly so lucky,” she reiterates, nuzzling comfortably against him. “So lucky.”

A while passes before he reluctantly suggests, “We should get ready soon.”

“Wait. Let’s just stay like this for another minute or two,” she murmurs, clinging to him tighter.

He chuckles, thankful she suggested it, because that’s exactly what he wants to do too. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

“Happy anniversary, Kishibe.”

“Happy anniversary, princess.”

~~~

The first time Kishibe tells you he loves you, he’s drunk.

He has an assignment outside of the city, food and lodging included, staying at a hotel with his protégé, Himeno, who you’ve met several times in the three months you’ve been dating. You’re well acquainted with her, so much so that you even have her number, in case of emergencies. However, she often texts you anyways just to chat, which you don’t mind at all. 

On the last day of his mission, he informs you that he’ll be out for drinks with his partner and a few other members of Public Safety. It must have been a successful job, considering there were no deaths, either civilians or devil hunters. It’s always a relief, knowing that Kishibe has survived another day.

You lie in bed, scrolling through the myriad of texts you’ve exchanged with him over the past week. Although he considers himself a man of few words, he never fails to send you a message whenever he can, whether it’s a good morning text, a quick check in, even a snapshot of what he’s eating that day. Tonight, he barely contacts you, busy celebrating with his comrades. You can’t blame him, but there’s no denying it; you miss him.

Being in your own bed on a Friday night, in the dinky apartment you share with your not-so-stellar roommate, is a feeling you’ve happily become unfamiliar with. You wish you were in Kishibe’s luxurious king-sized bed instead, snuggled in his strong arms, being kissed and licked all over. His gruff voice hot in your ear, whispering sweet nothings that make you melt. 

Without thinking, you send him a text, simply stating I miss you. You don’t wait for a reply, distracting yourself with a show, surrounded by blankets and pillows to fill the void left by his absence. When did you become so needy? 

On the verge of sleep, the vibration and ping of your phone stirs you awake. It’s almost 11 PM. Your heart flutters, hoping it’s your boyfriend. You’re surprised to see Himeno’s name on the notification. 

It’s a picture of Kishibe, slumped over at a table, clearly drunk. His other colleagues pose beside him, some waving peace signs, others sticking their tongues out, all of them holding beers. You chuckle at the image, happy to see all of them smiling and lively. Even if your boyfriend is intoxicated out of his wit’s end, at least you know he’s alive. Death is a new fear you’ve inherited since being seriously involved with a devil hunter. You spend every waking moment together, treating it like it’s your last, because you never know if it is. 

As you admire the photo, you suddenly get a call from the sender. “Hello?” you answer.

Himeno’s voice is soft through the speaker. “Hi there, friend. Did you like what I sent you?” You imagine her leaning on the wall outside the bar, preparing to smoke.

You laugh. “I do. Thank you for that. I hope he’s not giving you too much trouble.”

“On the contrary, he was our source of entertainment tonight.” On the other end of the line, you hear the drag of her cigarette.

“Really?”

She lets out a puff before answering, “Yes. He wouldn’t shut up about how amazing his girlfriend is.”

A rush of heat surrounds your cheeks, either from flattery or embarrassment. “What?”

“He kept gushing on and on about you, it was non-stop.”

“That doesn’t sound like Kishibe. Are you sure you’ve got the right one in there?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she chuckles. “To be fair, he’s had quite a lot to drink. And his tolerance has turned to shit. What’s up with that?”

You’ve recently noticed the subtle changes in his drinking habits. His flask stays on the dish rack all weekend, coincidentally whenever you’re visiting. He rarely orders liquor when you’re out to dinner. He only indulges in a bottle of wine the two of you share occasionally over a home-cooked meal. 

“I don’t know,” you answer, not wanting to admit anything on Kishibe’s behalf. 

You hear her hum in response, taking another hit of her cigarette. “I think it’s because he’s happy. He doesn’t need to forget anymore because he’s got you.”

The words hang tight in your throat, leaving you speechless.

She giggles faintly, aware of the depth her statement holds. “Anyways, I called in case you want the address to our hotel. Master is staying in the room right next to mine. Given the state he’s in, he may need his lovely girlfriend to take care of him.”

You think about this for a minute, still reeling over her touching sentiment just a few seconds ago. Before you can refuse, she offers, “I’ll call you a cab and charge it to work. Consider it a service you’re fulfilling for Public Safety, assisting our highest ranked Devil Hunter.”

Eventually, you agree, thanking her for the idea. She chats with you a while longer as you hastily pack a gym bag with all the essentials, excited to reunite with Kishibe. You hang up with her once you’re out of the apartment, cab already waiting for you. Ten minutes to your destination, you text Himeno your status, allowing her time to bring him back to the hotel to meet you. 

You’re waiting in the lobby when you hear the doors open to see Kishibe hunched between Himeno and another colleague. Her face lights up when she sees you, prompting her to nudge him in the ribs. “Hey, Master. Guess who’s here?”

He lifts his head up slowly, eyes completely blitzed, as he rasps, “Huh?”

You approach them, grinning from his ridiculous expression. It takes a while for him to process, blinking rapidly, as if correcting his vision. When he finally realizes it’s you, he stands up a little straighter and whispers your name. 

“Surprise,” you say, waving in front of him. 

He repeats your name again, removing himself from his coworkers to wrap his arms around you. The smell of liquor is intense, indicating just how drunk he really is. 

“I guess our work here is done,” Himeno smirks. “I think Master is in good hands now. Let’s go, Arai.” She passes you the key card to the room, giving you one last wink before they leave towards the elevators. 

“Kishibe, let’s go to the room now,” you tell him, his body drooped over you. 

“Don’t leave me,” he whines, voice husky from inebriation. 

“I’m not, we’re going to your room together,” you explain, rubbing his back. “Can you walk with me to the elevator?”

He nods languidly, dragging his feet beside you as you make your way up to his room. Inside, he immediately shrugs his overcoat off and collapses into bed face first. You sit at the end of the bed, patiently removing his shoes from his feet. 

In the bathroom, you soak a small bath towel in warm water, wringing out any excess liquid. You grab a fresh bottle of water from the mini fridge and crack it open, pouring it into a glass for easy access. Kishibe grunts into the pillow as you sit beside him, rolling him over so he’s face up. When he sees you, he grins. “Am I dead?” 

“Of course not, sweetie,” you answer, placing the warm towel on his forehead, gently pressing your palm on top. 

“Then why is there an angel here with me?” He lifts his arm to point at you. 

“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?”

He reaches for you, tugging at your sleeve. “The only thing that’s ridiculous is how fucking beautiful you are.” He lays your hand on his cheek, nestling into your palm like a puppy. It’s a side of him that you’ve seen brief glimpses of, but never to this extent. 

“You’re drunk,” you tease him, tapping your thumb at his chin.

“Drunk in love,” he replies, chuckling to himself.

Love. Maybe you’re both too old to put such meaning into words. There’s no doubt that it’s there, never admitted out loud. Why bother saying it when it’s so obvious?

You caress his cheek, tracing the scar that you love so much. He’s told you the story behind it more than once, each time, a new detail added that you tuck away into your treasure box of him in your brain. 

You love everything about him. His past, his present. Flaws and perfections, or the lack thereof. He’s rough around the edges, definitely not sugar-coated, even a bit intense. His immense strength is hidden beneath his stoic demeanor, reserved specifically to hunt devils, never fully revealed to you. Still, you feel safe with him, as if all potential dangers are thwarted in his mere presence. You’ve heard it enough to know that he’s a force to be reckoned with, a serious outlier in a job where young people die and growing old doesn’t exist. He’s the exception. 

And you’re the same for him. A life beyond the confines of devil hunting. An escape that doesn’t involve a bottle. A chance at normalcy in a world where nothing for him is normal. It almost never happened. The first night you met, he warned you about his lifestyle, watched you walk away for your own sake. And now, you’re the exception. 

He gazes at you with half-lidded eyes, still intoxicated, but fully aware. Smiling, he whispers your name. “I love you.”

You stare at him, startled by his candid confession. The words are on the tip of your tongue, easy and effortless, because you truly feel it. But you don’t say it back, thinking he’ll forget this conversation in the morning. You want it to be special, not in the midst of his drunken stupor. 

So, you keep quiet, gradually removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, and loosening his belt. After you change and brush your teeth, you return to him, coaxing him into drinking water, which he does, before you both settle under the covers, cuddling. Eventually, he falls asleep, you following him soon after. 

In the morning, you wake up to Kishibe caressing your cheek, delicately petting your temple. He’s turned towards you, shirtless and smiling. “Good morning, princess.”

You bite your lip, happy to see him. “Good morning.”

“You surprised me last night, didn’t you?” He pulls you in closer. 

You burrow your face against his bare chest, last night’s booze almost completely worn off. “You can blame Himeno for that. She’s very convincing.”

“I’ll make sure to thank her. Somehow, she knew that I needed you.” He cradles you, kissing your forehead. “By the way, you owe me something.”

“What?”

“You know what.” 

You look up at him. “You remember?”

“Of course I remember.” Pressing his forehead to yours, he whispers, “I love you.”

The second time Kishibe says it, he’s completely sober. And this time, you say it back. 

~~~

When he asks her to move in with him, he almost doesn’t go through with it. 

It’s a Sunday morning. They’ve been dating for six months now, spending most of their time in his apartment, snuggled in his king-sized bed. She often complains about her place, the typical grievances of an adult woman living with a roommate she doesn’t particularly get along with. But it’s not her woes that convince him to ask her. It’s his own selfish desires. 

He wants to wake up every single morning to her pretty face, to that warm smile that ignites every nerve in his body, that cute laugh that plays like the most majestic melody in his head. He doesn’t need drugs or caffeine to give him that energy boost. He needs her.

Today is different than other Sundays. She warned him the night before; she needs to leave early to attend to some roommate business. They’re having issues with the refrigerator, and she, apparently, needs to be there to deal with it. 

They cuddle in bed, enveloped by blankets and body heat, kissing each other softly. This usually leads to something steamy, but not today. When she pulls away to get ready to leave, he’s disappointed, enough that he mutters, “Don’t.”

She turns to face him with a confused expression. “Don’t what?”

He pauses, doubting himself if this is the right moment, so he keeps quiet. 

She returns to the bed, hopping on top of him, palms at his cheeks. “Don’t what, sweetie?”

“Don’t leave,” he musters, through gritted teeth.

Giggling, she nuzzles her nose against his. “You know I have to.”

“You don’t. Not if you live here with me.”

“Are you asking me to move in?”

“Yeah, I am.”

She squeals, smile incapable of being any bigger. The reaction he was hoping for. “Took you long enough. I can’t believe I get to live with you.” She kisses his scar, then his forehead. “My baby.” A smooch on the lips. “My new roommate.” 

He keeps her there, kissing her deep, tongue slipping inside her mouth. She moans into him, grinding her hips on his lap. 

“I’m taking this as a yes, then?”

She nods, sucking on his lower lip. “Mm-hm.”

“Don’t you have to meet your roommate soon?” he reminds her, slipping beneath her shirt to fondle her breasts.

“I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m going to be living with my boyfriend soon. She can get mad at me all she wants.”

He never gets sick of hearing her call him that. Her boyfriend. He’s hasn’t been anyone’s for the longest time. It feels good to be hers. “Are you still sore from last night?” He reaches his other hand down to rub her clit over her panties. 

“A little bit,” she answers, scattering kisses along his neck.

“Let me eat it then,” he whispers, sucking on her ear lobe, slipping past the fabric to slide his finger up and down her folds. “Ride my fucking face. Give me my breakfast in bed. Want to eat this pussy until I’m full.”

It’s safe to say that the relationship with her old roommate is properly ruined this day, in favor of her new one.

~~~

Kishibe is the first to mention having kids. 

A year into your relationship, he tags along to your niece’s birthday party. The mother, Hina, who is your best friend, has already met Kishibe on multiple occasions, but never in a setting like this. A children’s party is another level of crazy that even the insane devil hunter himself might not be able to bear. 

After the usual round of greetings, your niece, Maki, immediately stands in front of him to peer at his face, curious. In his gruff voice, he greets, “Happy birthday, Maki,” proceeding to pat her awkwardly on the head. 

She continues to stare at him, a glint of suspicion in her expression. “Are you an FBI agent or something?”

For some reason, he decided to wear his work attire to a children’s party. You’re trying to contain your laughter as he clears his throat to answer her. “Actually, I am a devil hunter.”

Maki’s eyes go round. “Devil…hunter…?”

“Yup.”

Without taking her gaze off of him, she starts yelling for all her friends, who come running immediately, all marveling at Kishibe. He glances at you, brows twitching slightly in concern. All you can do is grin at him, knowing he’s in for it.

For the next hour or so, the kids take advantage of this opportunity to entertain their premiere guest, challenging him to see how many of them he can carry at once, demanding to be shown his “special” moves, even go so far as to gnaw at his overcoat, acting like true devils. He takes it all in stride, his stoic expression cracking occasionally into the tiniest smile.

You sneak him a few slices of pizza as he bicep curls three of the kids, including birthday girl Maki. Before he eats, he gives you a smooch on the cheek, indicating that he’s actually enjoying himself.

From the other side of the room, you sit next to Hina, who’s carrying her other child, baby Kenji. You’re playing peek-a-boo when your friend asks, “So, do you think you and Kishibe will ever have kids?”

“We haven’t even talked about marriage yet, we’re for sure not thinking about kids.”

“You two don’t talk about that stuff?”

It’s been a year now since you’ve been with Kishibe, and it’s still going extremely well. You’ve been preoccupied with enjoying the relationship that you haven’t thought to discuss important matters yet. You shrug and answer, “No, not really.”

“Well, don’t you think you should bring it up?” 

You think for several seconds before answering, “We’re taking it one step at a time. We’re fine where we’re at now.” 

She gives you a look, as if she wants to say something else, but she ends up dropping it. Maki’s voice rings out from the living room, calling for her. “Oh shoot, can you hold Kenji for a bit? Maki needs me.”

You agree, holding your arms out to cradle him. He peers up at you with the whimsy and wonder that most babies radiate. You smile, finding a comfortable position to hold him in. 

“You’re a natural.” You look up to see Kishibe standing in front you, a birthday hat on his head, probably forced there by the rugrats.

“And you’re a hit,” you reply, grinning. “The kids love you. Are you having fun?”

He removes his hat to place on you instead. “I don’t mind it.” He hovers over your face to give you a playful pinch on your cheek.

Kenji starts to fuss, to which you focus your attention back to him, cooing until he’s peaceful again. From your peripheral, you spot your boyfriend watching you intently.

“You’d make a good mother,” he states, quietly. 

You look up at him, surprised by his statement. “Really?”

“Yeah. You look good like this,” he comments, nonchalant, as if he’s playing it off. You remain silent, still unsure how to respond. 

Then, he comments, “I think we’d be good parents, you and I.”

“You do?” You beam at him, impossible now to contain. 

“Yeah. We’d be great,” he reiterates, gazing at you with a soft, loving expression. 

On the drive home from the party, Kishibe rests his palm on your thigh as he steers with the other. There’s a new vibe between you now, knowing that you’re both on the same page about having children. He actually seems excited about it. 

Back at the apartment, after you put away all of the leftovers from the party, you both retreat into the bedroom to change. While you’re stripped almost bare, aside from your bottoms, he approaches you, hugging you from behind as he kisses your nape. 

You giggle, craning your neck to face him. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispers, grazing your ear with his lips.

“About what?”

“Making a baby with you.” His voice is low and sultry as his hands glide to your waist, slowly slipping under the elastic of your pajamas. 

“Are you serious right now?” 

“Mm-hm.”

His fingers find your pussy, rubbing the fabric against your clit. The other hand tugs your pants past your ass, causing them to fall to the floor, bunched at your ankles. You let out an exasperated moan, almost annoyed at his timing, but most definitely turned on. You lift your feet to shove your clothes away, reaching behind to palm his erection. Of course he isn’t wearing clothes, clad in only his boxer briefs, which are tight around his growing bulge. You’ve been ambushed, and you don’t know whether to be worried or horny. Probably the latter. 

Within a minute, the two of you are naked on top of the bed, not bothering to lie under the covers. He kisses you all over your body, starting at your needy lips, dragging his tongue down to abdomen to nestle his face into your plush stomach. Seconds later, his mouth is surrounding your clit, swishing his spit, swirling his tongue, your whimpers filling the room. You spread your thighs wider, grabbing onto the top of his head, binding his hair into a fist to pull him off when it gets too sensitive. Though he never lets you, always relentless when he eats you out. 

When you come, he slurps on your slick until he’s satisfied, dipping his tongue deep into your pussy walls, collecting every drop of you into his mouth. Once he’s finished, he climbs on top, kissing you on the lips, still wet with your arousal, tasting it for yourself. You wrap your fingers around his hard cock, stroking him before he stands at the edge of the bed, pulling you towards him to position himself in front of you. You hear him open the bedside drawer, retrieving the regularly used bottle of lube, the snap, squelch, and click a familiar sound.

He guides his dick into you slowly, pulling away at the slightest resistance, only to thrust back in gently. Your cunt squeezes around him as he fucks you, bent over your chest to suck on your nipples simultaneously. Without warning, he releases you from his mouth to hoists your legs up onto his shoulder, cock plunging farther into your pussy. 

Surprised, you cry out, “Kishibe!”

His eyes are wild, an animal in heat, fucking you harder and deeper. “I want to fuck a baby in you just like this. Breed you until you’re round in your belly.” He slides his palm over your stomach, stroking around your navel. “Right here.”

There are tears in your eyes from the pleasure, your throat dry from the excessive moans he’s drawing out from you. All you can do is take it. 

“You fucking love this, don’t you? I’ll be such a good daddy to you and our baby,” he grunts.

You nod your head erratically, babbling, “Fuck, I want that so bad. I want that so bad, daddy.”

He chuckles, breathing staggered. “You like calling me daddy now, knowing I’m going to breed you. Knowing I’m going to give you my fucking seed.” He’s hitting your sweet spot over and over, fingers rapidly toying with your clit. 

“Fuck, right there!”

“Daddy’s hitting it good, huh? Giving it to you so fucking good. Gonna fill this pretty pussy with all of my daddy cum, isn’t that right, princess?” He huffs filthy words at you, completely immersed in whatever carnal instinct is controlling him in this moment. 

You tremble all over, skin hot with passion as you climax. He pumps his cock into you, spilling his load until his balls are emptied out. He pulls out slowly, watching his creamy cum leak out of your slit, enjoying it like a masterpiece that he helped paint. 

He lies beside you, both of you calming down from your orgasms. “Was that too much?” he asks, rubbing your belly again.

“No. It was great,” you reassure him, smiling as you cover his hand with yours, entwining your fingers. “Didn’t think you’d have a baby fever all of a sudden.” 

“To be fair, I wasn’t sure I wanted kids. Not since recently.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because now I have a chance at a life like that. I never knew that was possible for me until I met you.”

Your heart swells at this, blinking your eyes to rid any residual or oncoming tears. You lean close to kiss him softly on the cheek. “I love you, Kishibe.”

“I love you too, princess.”

~~~

He proposes on a sunny afternoon in the middle of the week during spring. Cherry blossom season. 

A few months ago, on a whim, they went ring shopping, for shits and giggles. She got her finger sized, which he noted, and she gazed at a particular ring for a good two minutes, a twinkle in her eye that was unmistakable. He knew that was the one, just as he knows that she is the one. 

He bought it two weeks later, and since then, it’s been in his pocket, rolling around in there for months now. He’s been close a few times already, grazing the box with his fingers, ready to whip it out during an especially romantic moment. Still, it never felt right. 

That is, until today. 

They’re both on their lunch breaks, walking off their meal at a nearby park, fingers interlaced seamlessly. This has become routine for them, something they’ve become used to. But every time, he craves it more and more. The intimacy of it. The normalcy of it. He’s getting accustomed to feeling human, and not solely a devil hunting machine. And it’s all thanks to her. 

It’s been two years now, living together in domestic bliss, practically inseparable, aside from their day jobs. He’d carry her around in his pocket if he could, or he’d shrink himself down to be in hers. Either way, he wishes they were always with each other. 

He’s become a man dependent on a woman. If you’d ask him three years ago if he’d ever become like this, he’d scoff and deny it. Now, he doesn’t bat an eye to admit it. He’s fucking needy, and unashamed about it.

They are by no means perfect. A relationship without flaws doesn’t exist in the real world. They argue, as regular couples do, but never going to bed angry. No matter who’s right or wrong, they both listen to each other and talk it out. What he loves about her is that she’s neither a dream nor a fantasy; she’s real. Perfectly imperfect, just as he is. He never has to worry about waking up and finding out it was his imagination all along. He knows she exists by the way her body feels around him, the warmth of skin against his, the lingering scent of her shampoo on the pillows and sheets. Bits and pieces of her scattered through their apartment, mixed with traces of him, combining into a beautiful, cohesive mess. 

Kishibe never considered himself a sentimental person, not until her. Now, everything has meaning. Nothing is too little or insignificant to cherish. Movie stubs, blurry polaroid pictures, a Dirty Thirty! sash and sparkly tiara still hanging on the corner of the vanity. It’s reminders that their time together has never been wasted, especially when life can be cut short in any moment. 

They find a park bench to sit at, watching soft, pink petals float lazily through the breeze. She rests her head on his shoulder, observing all the blossoms falling from the trees. “I wish we could stay like this forever. I don’t want to go back to work.”

He squeezes her hand, hoping his palms aren’t sweating. “Me too.” It’s rare for Kishibe to be nervous, but for some reason, he is. In his pocket, he feels for the vechalvet box, housing the ring. Second guessing himself if this is really right.

“Let’s run away. Quit our jobs and live off the grid,” she teases. It’s not the first time she’s joked about it. They often do, wishing they could neglect the responsibilities of the real world to indulge in each other endlessly. 

“Why don’t we get married first. Then we’ll plan our escape.” 

“We’re practically married, aren’t we?” She nuzzles her cheek against him. “I already consider you my husband.”

He swallows hard, adrenaline coursing this his veins. The moment finally here. “Let’s make it official then.”

It’s a Wednesday afternoon, as mundane as the last, when Kishibe asks her to marry him. It becomes the most special day of his life because she says yes. 

--------------------

End Notes: Thank you all for reading this Kishibe fic! I hope you enjoyed reading just as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

Taglist: one of my fave people on here @liliorsstuff-blog! thank you for always showing me love and supporting me, love you! 💜