#i dislike some of the decisions made over the years too

[yerifes]

hm, anyways... get hype for hitball!!

[caffeinewitchcraft]

WIBTA for going to my high school reunion even though the two witches I stripped of magic are going?

(Read for free on Patreon (X))

I (28 witch) was in a coven during high school. Not really even a coven. We weren’t recognized and there wasn’t a clear division of responsibilities. We did have a high priestess but she hadn’t Declared or been Initiated or whatever she believed. Looking back, her learning was all over the place (and a little problematic, honestly. I remember her calling a poppet a Voodoo doll before being called out by another member). Let’s call her Sarah.

Sarah was a year older than the rest of us (still the same grade though) and her mom was a witch so that made her the high priestess. She was the one who would organize all of our rituals and held the power of veto over any proposed spells. While you think that’d mean she’d provide the ingredients, she never did. She did tell us what to buy and, let me tell you, some of those things were expensive for a high schooler. We met in the park behind her house, and she demanded that at least one of us be in every one of her classes. If we weren’t, we’d be “cycled” out of the coven until our parents convinced the school to transfer us in.

Any alt kid knows what I’m talking about because they had a Sarah in their life. If she was angry, we had to be angry (and a little afraid of her). If she was sad, we were expected to ask why. If she was happy, we had to be even more happy. You get the picture.

The problem came when Sarah added Jess (fake name) to the Coven during the start of our junior year. It was the first time Sarah allowed someone else from a witch family to join. Jess was a transfer student from England. She told us all that that made her magic deeper and more powerful because she was a “daughter of the witches you could not burn.” When I pointed out that that statement is historically inaccurate, Jess called me a “pilgrim.” She tried to convince Sarah to blind me (take away my decision-making power in the coven), but I was the only one with reliable access to dried herbs (my mom’s a botanist and didn’t count her stores like Sarah’s mom did), so Sarah said no.

Jess’ dislike of me got worse when I actually did dress like a pilgrim for Halloween that year. And, if I’m honest, I did take it a little far. I was a hot-headed kid. I followed her around the entire day and had kids sign one of two petitions – “Burn” or “Not Burn.” When the Burn Petition won, I could tell I went too far (there were a LOT of signatures).  I tried to make it a joke and told her that now she really was a witch we couldn’t burn.

Jess and I got in our first physical fight. Sarah eventually broke it up, but not before Jess ripped out a good chunk of my hair, and I broke the tiger’s eye bracelet she wore.

 I later heard from another coven member that Jess tried to lay a curse on me that night. Unfortunately for her, I was pretty interested in defensive work and had a fresh witch’s jar buried under my window. Her curse got caught in it and rebounded. Apparently, that’s how Jess got pink eye, not from her younger sister.

We fought like cats and dogs. Any time Jess would talk about England, I’d make fun of her accent. When I brought up what spell I’d like to do, Jess would call me a juvenile pilgrim. Eventually, Jess got smart. She’d text me insults rather than say them to my face so that she’d have a chance to tattle to Sarah before I got the chance to hit back.

Sarah pulled me aside at least three times to “address” the fights. She basically said that I needed to respect Jess more because she came from a witch family, like her. She told me I could learn a lot from Jess if I stopped acting like a human. When I pointed out that we are humans, just humans who have elected to use magic, she got really mad.

And when Sarah got mad, she could make life really difficult.

My spell for luck on midterms got passed over for Jess’ jinx on our English teacher. The jinx worked and Ms. Edel tripped, but guess who still came to class with a broken leg? MS. EDEL. Guess who failed their midterm?

ALL SEVEN OF US.

Damn, I can’t believe I’m still upset by this petty high school drama. Therapy did not work.

So safe to say that Jess and I never became friends. I love magic now and loved it then, but she took it so seriously. I’ve always believed magic should be fun. All the spells she brought to the coven required a spirit element—blood, hair, sacrifice. One of the members was a strict green witch and had to drop out because of it. We missed two full moons until Sarah approved Eileen to rejoin after she woke up from her coma.

(And before anyone freaks out about the coma – we all ended up in comas here and there. We were a bunch of uneducated and untrained baby witches who all had different belief systems. The fact that there wasn’t anything worse than a coma is a miracle. She wasn’t traumatized by it any more than I was by mine.)

Jess and I mostly avoided each other for the rest of the year. We always voted against the other’s spell and I’m fairly certain she tried to trip jinx me in the hall as often as I tried to trip jinx her. Sarah never tried to diffuse the tension between us. She confided in Eileen that she was grateful we kept each other in check.

Things could have continued on that way until we all moved away for college (or repeated the year after failing all those midterms) if it weren’t for the vernal equinox. Or, as we inaccurately called it, the Spring Solstice.

The way it worked was that we all got to propose a ritual during equinoxes. They’re powerful magical events on their own and when you bring intent to the party? They were always our biggest, most successful workings.

Sarah always chose what we did on those days. She pretended like we got to vote, but we all knew she would never choose one of our rituals. My freshman year, she made us all do one for beauty. Because it was a “make real what is in the eye of the beholder” type, some of our transformations were a little…traumatizing. I’m only telling you this so you understand the power an equinox has, okay? I do not think this way anymore. Other members were just as extreme. Eileen went from a Wendy from Wendy’s to a Jessica Rabbit. And I…

Well.

I grew rabbit ears and teeth. That doesn’t make me a furry! Who Framed Roger Rabbit? was super influential on BOTH Eileen and me. I was a kid and didn’t understand my own concept of beauty. It took almost three months before I got the ears to go away entirely.

Suffice it to say, we were all excited and nervous for what ritual Sarah would pick, which is why it was a blow to find out that she had picked a ritual - Jess’ ritual.

A ritual for power.

I didn’t want to do it from day one, okay? My belief is that whatever magic comes to you naturally is what’s okay to take. I think if you rip magic up from the earth or the abyss, it’ll change you. Maybe even corrupt you or change your personality.

But I was a kid and didn’t know how to explain that. Jess and Sarah were both from witch families and they seemed to think it was okay. Even though I didn’t like Jess, I did see her as a more “authentic” witch because of that. I know better now, but as a kid seeing all of her grimoires, I gave her false authority.

Jess explained the ritual to us over the next month. She talked about how we were going to be “tested.” The ritual would pull our spiritual selves from our bodies, and depending on how long we chanted, we’d return to them with more or less magic than when we started. She said that everyone in her family did it when they turned 18.

It wasn’t until three days before the equinox that she told us what would happen if one of us were to be judged unworthy.

“Mostly nothing,” she said. I remember her exact words, how her black hair spun as she soared through the air on the swings. We stood in a half circle before her and Sarah as they swung higher and higher. An audience to their aerial court. She said, “Sometimes people lose some of their magic. When the ritual decides they don’t deserve it.”

Eileen asked, “When the ritual decides? It’s sentient?”

“There’s an overseer we’ll call on,” Sarah said. She’d been the only one allowed to read Jess’ grimoire. Her lip curled and she leaned forward so she could look down over Eileen like an avenging angel as she swung overhead. “An impartial entity.”

“I am not a deity witch,” I said. I had long ago committed that I would never call on a higher being in any ritual. Most of our spells had to be modified for me so that I could swear to the cardinal directions rather than to the Morrigan or Hecate. “You know that.”

“You’re not swearing to anyone,” Sarah said and rolled her eyes.

“Which means no one is swearing to us,” Eileen muttered under her breath. But I could tell she had given up by the slump of her shoulders.

“It’s only the unworthy who lose their magic,” Jess reassured. Her eyes flashed at me. “Scared you’re unworthy?”

Yes. I was scared. I know better now than to think lineage has any place in witchcraft. It’s about the magic, always just the magic. But months of hearing their rhetoric had worn at my self-esteem. It really felt like if I didn’t do the ritual, I was as good as admitting I wasn’t a witch. If I did do the ritual…

Well. Obviously, I did the ritual.

I was a hot-headed teen, okay? I felt challenged. I decided that I would wear extra protections. Tiger’s eye and quartz charged with intention. I picked out a silver locket my mother gave me, filled with belladonna. She told me it symbolized beauty and choice.

Now, here’s where I may be the asshole.

I can’t give you a play-by-play of the ritual. It was ten years ago, and calling on that much magic has a funny way of warping memory. But what I do remember is this:

We gathered in the park before sunrise. Seven of us in new colors – spring green, white, soft yellow and pink. Jess made us get rid of anything with a working on it – crystals, cards, and ladders. She collected them all in a linen bag and threw them into the woods. I couldn’t get away with my tiger’s eye or quartz, but she missed the pendant my mother gave me. It was a warm comfort against my chest as we began.

We lit the fire together, each of us frantically thumbing our lighter to make sure the sparks caught at the same time.

Jess brought the chalice. We all cut our palms and let seven drops fall into it. (No, we didn’t use a clean blade. My cut got infected as hell and it itches like a witch. I know better now!) She bade us drink, and we did.

“Now the magic will see us as equal,” Sarah said while Jess prepared the next step. She licked her lips as if savoring the blood. “It will only be our wills determining the outcome.”

Jess doused us with oil and herbs. It smelled sharp and uneasy. I had provided the herbs and knew all of them were either fresh or dried to perfection. But it was rancid. There was rot in the air, but I couldn’t place it then. I wrinkled my nose and took up the chanting with the others to distract myself from the smell.

If you’ve ever chanted before, you know the stages. First, you’re just talking. You say the words and they mean something, but you don’t feel them. Then your mouth gets tired. You start messing up the timing of the words. You stutter. You stumble. The words lose meaning. Most people stop there. They fall silent and sink into a shallow meditation with heads full of fog.

You’re only a witch if you can reach the next step. You keep saying the words. They become comfortable. You wear the words like clothes and feel your cadence curl through you like a companion. Your body goes on autopilot and your mind relaxes. The chant turns smooth as silk. Depending on the chant, you lose yourself to the sweetness of your coven singing. Sometimes, you sink into the earth with them. Other times, you ride the flow of the magic like waves.

This time, the words pulled us away from our bodies. Jess slowly introduced new words to our chant. Words of summoning.

We called upon the Overseer.

Pressure fell around me like a vice. I couldn’t breathe even as the ritual fell from my lips without breaking. Magic had, at that point, always given me control. This? This was a complete loss of it.

I felt myself compressing. Smaller and smaller in the face of the being that was rising in the middle of the flames. It was not an observer. The moment I “saw” it, its endless form writhing in the space between the smoke, I knew that. It was a judge and jury.

It was a spider.

We chanted. It grew. It pulled us from our bodies like spiderweb and spooled our essences onto its forelimbs. It was not what Jess described and, simultaneously, it was. We were being tested. Our psyches were being tested.

So long as we chanted, the being would be contained. However, the longer it was contained, the more of us it could take. If we let it go, what would it do? Would it return any part of our magic to us? Any part of who we were?

Or would it eat?

This wasn’t a test of magic. It was a test of faith. Faith in each other and faith in the ritual.

For those practitioners out there, you can see the problem. I didn’t enter the ritual with faith. My intent was flawed from the beginning. We’d had spells fail because of lack of belief. I had never been the person who didn’t believe.

Until then

My words wavered. The Overseer turned its eyes to me. I could see my magic like thread before it, shimmering against the backdrop of its maw.

Then another tremor. Eileen dropped a word. The Overseer split and looked at both of us. Someone else faltered. One of the coven – I couldn’t see them – fell and went silent.

The sky yawned overhead, empty and cold. The embers from the fire spun up into it and were lost. The Overseer rippled and I felt our coven shrink in the face of it.

I gasped around the chant and looked across the fire. The light licked Jess’ gleeful face. Her eyes hungered for my failure. I could see it. Through the connection of the Overseer, I could feel it.

Jess and Sarah changed the chant. To this day, I don’t remember if they taught it to the rest of us. There are so many parts of the ritual that I’ve left out or forgotten. But I remember them chanting different words. The circle grew discordant.

“I offer my magic so I may be unspun and woven anew,” they said. The words have imprinted themselves like bitters under my tongue. “I offer my magic so I may—”

Some of the other members tried to pick up the new chant. Their voices grew weaker and the Overseer’s limbs began to extend out towards each one of us.

I wouldn’t offer my magic to that thing. I wouldn’t be unspun.  Eileen was stuttering. I saw her fall to her knees. I was close behind.

I threw my necklace into the flames.

Belladonna. Beautiful and deadly. It has meant choice to many women and many of them have been from my own family. It's extreme and it’s final. An end that doesn’t always make room for a new beginning.

Pretty words that cover up what I meant when I threw it into the Overseer.

My intent was Death.

Entities never die. I’m sure the Overseer didn’t. It howled. The wind kicked up and brought the flames into a spiral ten feet tall. Its forelimbs shattered, and I reeled myself back together greedily.

Not all of us were safe from the Overseer’s desperate struggle against my death curse.

Sarah and Jess were alone in the third phase of the ritual. They had changed the chant. They had offered their magic and asked the entity to do with it what it will. They believed.

And because they believed, the Overseer took their magic with it.

I think it was the first coma Jess ever fell into. Her family certainly acted like it. They whisked her back to the East Coast before the end of the year. I heard from Eileen that she woke up shortly after I left for college.

Magicless.

Sarah too.

I fully own that I was responsible for the ritual failing. I panicked. I’ve gone through every excuse over the years. I didn’t know what the ritual really was. I was just a kid. I took magic too lightly. It was their fault for not letting us read the grimoire for ourselves. But, at the end of the day, the real reason the ritual failed was because I panicked and I let that panic break my belief.

I moved on to college and it felt like running away. I’ve never returned to my hometown. I’m happy with the life I’ve built. My magic summer camp gives me time to travel during the winter months, and I feel like I’m making a real difference in young witches’ lives.

Nowadays I teach young witches to never do a working without full intent. If they have doubts, they don’t do it. It’s a lesson I learned the hard way ten years ago. I tell them it can cost them more than their magic. It can cost them their lives.

Eileen is still back home and she says Sarah rarely comes out of her house. Sometimes she sees our former high priestess wandering the school grounds on nights of the full moon. I hear from other members of the coven that Jess’ family put out a bounty on me a few years ago. However, I never saw an assassin so I think that was just a rumor.

So, knowing that they’re still not over it, would I be the asshole for attending my high school reunion next month? I’ve been craving reconnection with my roots, but I’d be subjecting Sarah and Jess (though Jess marked Maybe on the RSVP) to my presence.

I know they must hold a grudge. If they were still witches, that would be a problem. I don’t think I’d be able to defend myself from one of their workings since I blame myself for what happened. But since they’re not, it’s not really a danger. That’s pretty asshole-ish, right? Ignoring their feelings because they don’t have the magic to back it up?

So WIBTA for attending my high school reunion even though the two girls I stripped of magic will be attending?

-----

Thanks for reading! It looks like I'll have quite a few updates for the anthology! I am still obsessed with this format and can't wait to share some of the updates over the next few weeks.

If you'd like to support me before the anthology, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)! I post new stories every week and many of my patrons saw the above story a week early.

The current AITA story takes place in the same universe as our former Cryptid (X). About a poor, poor boy who is just proud to be a regional Nightmare. Why is everyone so mad at him?

See y'all next week!

[nathaslosthershit]

Coworkers?… Something like that (MV33)

Summary: Working in media for a Formula 1 team, you had expected to be behind the scenes, unseen and unnoticed by fans. But catching the eye of one of the drivers and the very public flirting as a result has thrust you into the spotlight Part of my summer event! Warnings: A little suggestive hehe.

It was the perfect job for you. Part of the team you love, far from the spotlight. You were good at it too. Constantly complimented by your boss in meetings on how much engagement some of the content you came up with got. Even the two drivers, who were certainly not known for enjoying media making them do stupid games for the fans, had stopped complaining as much. One driver in particular seemed to really enjoy when you would work with him…

You’d never been a big fan of Max Verstappen. It wasn’t that you disliked him, he was extremely talented of course, and not too bad to look at, but as you had always rooted for the underdog, you couldn’t justify ever celebrating his many many wins. But as you got to know him, as he gave you the warmest of welcomes to the team, you changed your mind. 

You two had been keeping your budding relationship to yourselves. Despite how much you liked each other, until you both had figured out where the relationship was going, it didn’t seem wise to tell anyone, especially while you were just finishing your first year with Red Bull. Despite how much you helped improve the team’s social media presence, if something happened, if it came down to their world champion a few times over, or some girl in media who had only been there for a year…

Luckily, it did get more serious, very serious. After a long conversation, you both had come to the decision that you won’t say anything explicitly, as Red Bull didn’t have rules on dating coworkers that would warrant an official notice to HR, but you wouldn’t hide as much. 

Too bad this decision was made not long before the Drive to Survive team came to film extra content for the show.

It was only supposed to be filler clips. Extra video footage to use with a voiceover to give more time to explain things. ‘Just pretend we aren’t here’ they had told everyone in the office, and oh boy did you pretend. 

It was Max’s fault, 100%. The undisclosed but very apparent relationship between you two was known to everyone at Red Bull at this point, but not the new video crew coming in. And Drive to Survive lives for the dramatics. 

While it wasn’t explicit, a few clips of hand holding (initiated by Max), a kiss on the cheek (given to you by Max), and multiple clips of Max looking at you with nothing but heart eyes, it was hard for anyone watching to ignore. 

Once the new season came out, fans very quickly caught onto all of the content of the two of you that DTS was trying to be sneaky about putting in. That then led to ‘internet sleuths’ finding all of the behind the scenes content they could get of both of you, and then finding your account you had left public thinking no one would care about the random Red Bull media girl. How stupid you were.

“Max, what the fuck are we supposed to do? Do I delete my account and hope people forget?” You asked, stressed by the sudden spotlight.

“That would just make it worse and make them less likely to forget. We will just have to… be honest, give people enough content to keep them satisfied but not spoiled into needing more.”

He was right. It was almost laughable how he was the voice of reason in this situation when media presence was your job. That is how everything started.

There were no ‘official wag paddock walks’, you were too busy working to be Max’s arm candy before a race. But there were a few photos here and there, your team even posted a few BTS moments of the two of you.

“All you have to do is describe the food you are eating to Checo so he can guess.” You explained to Max for the fourth time, but he was still not listening as he was far too busy appreciating the view of the beautiful woman he got the privilege of calling his girlfriend. “Do you understand?”

As Sergio nudged Max, he responded with a quick, “Yes got it”

“Do not say the name of what you are eating.”

“Yes, yes we know.” He absentmindedly said as the two drivers put on their blindfolds. 

Everyone let out a breath of relief as Max went to lift the spoon to his mouth, the entire crew antsy to finish what was supposed to be a quick video before Max ruined it with his heart eyes and lack of comprehension to anything that came out of your mouth. 

“What the fuck! It’s ketchup!” Max exclaimed as everyone groaned.

“Max, you weren’t supposed to say that!”

“I thought I was guessing what it was! That's why I had the blindfold, no?”

They were in for a long day of shooting.

Max had started a stream, hoping to make it quick so he could join you in bed. Unfortunately, when viewers saw that you were walking through the background, they wouldn’t give up until you joined, so neither of you had much of a choice.

Despite how obvious it was that the two of you were together, neither of you had confirmed the status of your relationship. This led to having to ignore about three quarters of the comments you both were getting on the stream.

“Would you like a Red Bull?” Max asked, 45 minutes into what seemed to be a never ending stream.

“No it’s too late, I’ll go get a water-”

“Nope you stay there i'll get it.” Max said, antsy for an excuse to take a moment to himself. The amount of comments about the two of you were starting to piss him off.

He returned to the room to see you answering questions and, while still off camera, he set down the glass and waved to get your attention.

‘End it’ he mouthed, making prayer motions with his hands.

You simply shook your head, you had been having more fun talking to people than he had.

‘Please, I want to go to bed with you’ he mouthed back, wiggling his eyebrows in hopes of conveying he wanted to do much more than simply go to bed. You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth at that.

Seeing all the viewers confused, you simply responded, “Sorry, my coworker was harassing me” which had you giggling again as you saw Max get visibly annoyed at his new title.

“Okay guys, bye.” Was all Max said as he quickly returned to the view of the camera and turned off the stream. He then turned to face you, saying nothing as he dragged you to the bedroom, holding you close as he pushed you down onto the bed with him, causing more giggles to leave your mouth/

Giggles which he quickly stopped with a kiss. And then another. And then another.

The makeout session was in full swing when Max finally remembered why he was annoyed.

Quickly pulling away from you, much to your chagrin, he asked, “Coworkers? Is that all we are now?” He teased.

Giving him a less passionate but more loving kiss this time, you responded with, “Something like that” as you both started to remove your clothes.

[pinkynana]

aita for hooking up with a random man i met at the club while i was in a fight with my boyfriend?

Summary: Your boyfriend always told you that he hated girls at the club, saying that they were easier than prostitutes and such. Which drove you to the decision to go to a club after your hundredth fight with him, just to provoke him. It was never your intention to be in another man’s arms that night.

Word count: 1.7k words

CW : car sex, pussy slapping, spanking, dirty talk, mean(ish)dom!chenle, unprotected sex, fingering, cheating, chenle calls reader a slut (like, twice?), squirting, tell me if i missed anything

Not proofread and probably won’t ever be.

After having a fight with your boyfriend, you decided to spend the night dancing at some unfamiliar club you only knew about because your friend, Jisung worked there as a bartender. Clubbing was never your nature and you made it obvious when you stuck around Jisung the whole night, clutching your purse and giving side eyes to literally everyone who dared to come near you. Jisung chuckled, noticing your awkward stance by the bar he was attending. 

“I told you, you won’t even like it here.” you huffed at his comment. “Well, yeah. But my boyfriend hates girls who go to the club. He said they’re worse than prostitutes because they give away sex for free.”

“Don’t you have sex with him for free, though?”

“Exactly! Also, he literally subscribes to a bunch of girls on onlyfans.”

“You should dump him,”

You sighed right after that suggestion. You knew that was the right thing to do. Anyone could see the red flags on your bum ass of a boyfriend. But how could you break up with the lover you’ve been with for over 5 years? If you were being completely honest, it’s not that you still 100% loved him. It’s the attachment you have on him that was stopping you. And after dumping him then what? You would have to start all over again. Meeting someone new, telling them your likes and dislikes, if you had any dreams, convincing them to meet your parents. It’s all too exhausting. It’s easier to stick with what you have right now. No matter how many times you fought.

You felt a presence taking a seat next to you on the bar. You heard him taking an order to jisung but you paid no attention to it. You weren’t there to meet new people. It was just to provoke your boyfriend and make him regret ever having an argument with you. 

“Hey,” you heard the person next to you called. He waited for you to look up to him before he slid his hotel card towards you as it stopped its motion because of your glass of cola. He then immediately stepped down from his seat and left the bar. Jisung chuckled again, looking at your speechless reaction. “Shut up, ssung. I’m not here for that and you know it.” you said before leaving the bar to chase after the man to give him his hotel keycard back. You were completely clueless of club culture. You could have just thrown it away.

-

You only reached to the stranger when he stopped by what you assumed was his car. “This belongs to you.” you handed him the card. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you from his sunglasses. “You don’t want to spend the night with me?” You observed him keeping the card in the back of his pocket. 

“No, thanks. I have a lot on my plate right now. And I have a boyfriend.”

The stranger leaned his back against his car. His head tilted playfully before he said “Really? Is he prettier than me?” That’s when you questioned why you haven't realized how amazingly gorgeous the man before you is.  And this very man is trying to get into your panties. You chuckled to yourself, a thousand situations going through your head, most of them involving your boyfriend’s reaction to you cheating on him with a random man you just met at the club. But what made you chuckle, really, was how satisfied that would make you. Being a good girlfriend is definitely not your top priority when his isn’t about being a good boyfriend to you either.

“What’s your name?” you asked. “So I know who’s name I’m screaming tonight.” He drew a smile on his lips before pulling you into his arms, pushing you against his car. “Chenle.” he whispered. 

“Chenle..” you repeated, cupping his face as you stared into his eyes. He then plants his first kiss on you, pulling you in close with his arms on your waist. “Foxy, i like it,” he said when he broke the kiss so he could open the door to the backseat of his car, pushing you into it. You giggled, looking at him crawling on top of you and you swore to god that you’ve never seen anyone so gorgeous before. He closed the door behind him before he planted kisses on your neck. “You smell fucking amazing.” he groaned. You felt his tongue run across your whole neck which earned him a small moan from you. Before you knew it, you reached for his hand as you guided it underneath your dress. You saw his smirk with the help of the lights outside his car. He pressed three of his fingers on your lips. “You must really like me, huh?”

“Yea..”

“So wet already for me, just from kissing?” You couldn’t help but moan when he pushed your panties to the side, two of his fingers inside you. You gasped right after he quickly pulled out to give your pussy a slap. 

“I asked you a question, darling.” You bucked your hips to feel even just a little bit of his touch as you whined. “Want you inside me, I’m so wet for you, Chenle. Just for you.” Your arms reached out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What a good slut you are,” He said as he continued making out with you while also fingering you at the same time. He caught your moans in his mouth, playing with your pussy just as much as he likes. And he definitely wasn’t a gentleman about it, going according to his speed. You could hear your wetness squelching with his thrusts, it was almost embarrassing. How could you feel so good from the touch of this man who, the only thing you knew about him, was his name? 

As his ring and middle finger was busy fucking your hole, he used his thumb to rub your clit in circles. It was as if it’s his goal to drive you insane. At this point, this would be the fastest you would reach an orgasm. “Ngh.. Chenle.” You whined his name. “Yeah? Feels good?” He went down to kissing your jaw and neck. “So good. It’s so good, keep going.” Though your eyes were closed shut, you could tell he had a cocky smirk plastered on his face. However, Chenle wasn’t a gentleman. You gasped when he pulled his fingers out of you. You gasped again when he flipped the position as he pulled you so you’d sit on his lap.

“Take off your dress for me, baby.” he caressed your face softly. It was probably the first time he was delicate to you that night. You giggled before you reached for the zipper to take off that one piece of a fabric off your body. You never even noticed the way your hips were grinding on his lap voluntarily until he gave you a spank on your ass. “You wanna ride me, ride me properly.” 

The way Chenle naturally dominates you was the sexiest thing ever. Whatever he said to you, it felt right to just oblige without question. So you unzipped his jeans, pulling them down along with his undergarment, just enough to let his throbbing dick out. And it was evident to you that you weren’t the only one who's excited for the night. The way his tip blazed in an angry red as it slapped his abs the moment you took it out, it made you drool. When did he even unbutton his dress shirt? “Go ahead, you know what to do,” he encouraged.

And without any further say, you slipped your panties to the side just as he did before, lifting your hips while your hand reached down for his cock. You let out a silent moan the moment his tip kissed your entrance. You could already taste the pleasure that was about to come to you and you couldn’t wait so you pushed yourself down so you could sit properly on his cock. It took a couple minutes until you could take him balls deep inside of you. You sighed in pleasure. “So good, baby. Ready?” he asked. You nod your head. “Hey, look at me.” he pinched your chin to turn your face to him.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, you won’t even remember your boyfriend’s name.”

Truth be told, he was long gone from your brain. Now all that occupied your mind was Chenle. Chenle. Chenle. Chenle. Chenle. Chenle. You were chanting his name along with the rhythm of his thrusts. Just because you were on top of him, didn’t mean you were in charge. You wanted to move with him but the way he was taking control of you was hot, you didn’t want anything to change. He gave your ass a squeeze when you started scratching his back while moaning in pleasure. “You hear how sloppy your pussy is?” he was definitely referring to how wet you were down there. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

“Feels like I’m addicted to your cock already,” 

“I know that’s fucking right,” His hands moved upwards to your waist, bouncing you on his cock like you’re some kind of cock sleeve for him. But it felt so good, you feared that if Chenle had asked you to be his cock sleeve, you would say yes before he would even finish his sentence. And he was thrusting faster, if that was even possible. The grip you had on his shoulder, being fucked by this beautiful stranger at the backseat of his car. The thought drove you closer to your climax. 

“Fuck, Chenle. I’m gonna cum.”

“Make a mess, slut. Make a wild fucking mess that your pussy juice stains my seats and my car would smell like your slutty pussy,” It’s amazing how you felt more turned on with his dirty talking when you swore to god you’d slap anyone who calls you a slut. But for Chenle, you wanted to be a slut. His slut. His dirty slut who dirtied his car seats with your squirt from the best sex you ever had. There was nothing to be ashamed of as he followed suit, pulling out of you and cumming on your thighs, letting the liquid slide down to his seats too. 

“So what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“As far as I could remember.. I don’t have a boyfriend,”

[generalsdiary]

a stupid bet

gn!reader x Dr. Ratio

part two here

warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, cursing (?)

word count: 10k~

a/n: I don't know which demon possessed me to write a 10k fic about a character that isn't playable yet, istg I need help (the worst thing is I could've written even more, send help + if he is ooc mb he isn't out yet), not beta read (we die like Cocolia), Kavetham's son has me in a chokehold

description: you accept to do a bet to lighten up Dr. Ratio, one of your work colleagues and also a rival, you're not too fond of each other. things take a sharp turn when you do something quite haste to win the bet (could come off as a slower burn fic, rivals to something more?)

It was a bet. Your coworkers were certain no one could do, especially not you but now it fell onto you. To lighten him up.

Rivals of years, you and Veritas Ratio disliked each other for a long time. For some dumb reason, you were stern on doing this bet, the group of them and you stood to the side and you observed him, the way he stood next to his desk with a neutral expression on his face. Knowing your usual relationship, you were doomed to fail so your mind went to at least making him surprised. That should count to something, right?

It is past saving when you walk towards him. "Thought you could help me a bit."

He sighs, already annoyed at you. "What is it?"

Rather clumsily you point to his cheek, no idea what you should do.

He looked at his cheek, then back to you. Your pointing and leaning made him even more annoyed than he already was — he found it amusing that this was your idea of humor.

"Ah, the other one" You try to save yourself

Another sigh. Another glance. There was nothing on the other one either.

"You can't see it-" You mention.

He squints his eyes at you. He doesn't have time for your games. "Why don't you tell me what I'm supposed to see then."

"A crumb," you say simply. "Shall I?" Digging your grave deeper.

He raises a brow. He knew you had a big ego, but he was honestly surprised you really thought he would fall for this. “Sure, go ahead.”

In hopes this would at least catch him off guard, you reach with your hand to move the imaginary crumb, your fingers caressing his cheek and then pulling him in for a kiss.

His eyes widen, surprised, his heartbeat quickening, while he finds you irritating... he also finds you attractive. for some reason.. the kiss continues for a bit, his breath coming out in short gasps. you weren't expecting it to work.

Now you pull back, he is stunned, maybe a tad less irritated at you. You two stare at each other for a moment. The only noise is your heavy breathing, and something is cooking below the surface.

He stares at you for a bit longer, breath coming out in short gasps, as he processes what happened. Then he breaks the stare, his eyes scanning the area — some of your coworkers were watching, and probably laughing. But he didn’t care. At least... he didn’t want to care. He wanted to focus on you. Your eyes met his again, and you could see the blush still present on his cheeks, the warm look in his eyes.

You feel confused in this moment, what are these... feelings... you mentally shrug them off. "uhm... I gotta go-" You walk over to the co-workers to see if this counts as winning the bet.  As you turned to walk over to the observing co-workers, you could sense that his eyes were still watching you.

The acquaintances agreed that you won the bet. But found your way of achieving that interesting, especially since you two dislike each other. They leave and, the space is empty when you return to reading some papers.

After you’ve left, he spends a few moments pondering the event, and then, in an impulsive decision, he decides he wants to find you again. It wasn’t just the bet that he became, later on, aware of, or his wounded ego, that had him wanting to seek you out; he was intrigued by this newfound interaction. He wants to see where it leads.

He finds you sitting at a table. When you notice him approaching, you can feel the gaze of your coworkers. As he reaches you, you can feel their eyes still on you; there are some giggles and laughs in the background. When he speaks, his voice is a tad low. He also appears to be a bit timid, which isn’t the usual for him: “..May I join you?”

"What is it, Veritas?" Your voice was cold, and you look up at him.

He swallows, then glances at some of your co-workers. “I…” Your coworkers are still observing you with curiosity, so he lowers his voice while not looking at them. “... want to talk. To you.”

"We are talking," you say back, your gaze on the papers in your hands. You're dismissive towards him.

He hesitates but pushes on with his request, still keeping his voice low. “.. I want to talk to you in private.”

"Do we have anything to talk about?" you scoff, deeply ignoring the way it felt to kiss him. Chasing those thoughts away. You could see his face change to a microexpression you just about missed as he realized you hadn’t yet picked up on what he hoped for.

“You and I, we..” He hesitates to continue. You’d always been so formal, or irritating, with him. "we.. don’t get along.. usually.”

"We don't. So, leave? Why would we go talk in private?" you say. You knew this was about the bet. This was about the kiss - you chase those thoughts away, no. You will not think about not even for a second how soft- no. Stop. You return to reality. He is talking.

A moment of his hesitation. He lets out a small sigh before speaking again. “...We don’t get along, that’s correct. But..” He gestures to the observers and the whispers and giggles you can still hear in the background.

“...I think we should still talk privately.”

You sigh as well, rolling your eyes, finding his persistent attitude annoying. You stand up from your desk. "Lead the way, Doctor Ratio."

He smiles a bit at your response, and you can feel some hint of amusement.

He turns to lead you away from the others, turning a corner. Just as you begin to turn the corner you hear the observing coworkers make another comment; a girl says something about shipping.

"Private enough"? You ask after walking for a bit, looking around the empty hallway. it isn't a busy one usually.

He stops walking as you do, then looks at you for a moment. Your sarcasm is amusing him. He smiles at you, thinking of what to say. Then he begins to speak, and his facial expression is more relaxed than normal. “...I want to ask you something.”

"Ask." You sigh "What is it, Veritas?"

You could notice your words and attitude irking him, but, surprisingly, you could see him actually relaxing more as he spoke, a smile still plastered on his face. “...What is it that makes us dislike each other so much?”

You quickly answer. "We are both full of ourselves, intelligent, arrogant, and have zero patience for idiots. Is this why you wanted to talk in private- you're wasting my time, Veritas"

That response got a chuckle out of him, and you could tell he agreed with you, based on the way he nodded. A silence falls between you two, and then the silence is broken by him.. “...Have you ever wondered, as much as we are alike... how much we’re also different?” What a nonsensical question.

You are tired of him beating around the bush, so you decide to bring it up. "If this is about the bet- just- you're wasting my time"

Your dismissive attitude made him chuckle as you spoke. He thought about your statement. While the bet was an excuse to talk to you again, he had genuine thoughts in mind. Although, he didn’t let it show. “... It’s not about the bet. I just wanted to talk..”

"Why?"

You could sense the faintest hint of embarrassment in his voice, but otherwise, his expression was relaxed and casual. He says, “... Because I want to get to know you.”

You feel stunned, "...why?" Finding it strange he'd want anything to do with you.

That was the reaction he wanted. Your eyes were wide open, and you were surprised. He kept staring at you. He was aware of how ridiculous this might sound, but he meant it. He wants to know you. He found you irritating, yes, but there was something about you he wanted to explore more.

You shook your head gently, confused. "Veritas- what? Is this because of the-"

He sighs. “..The kiss? No. Yes, it made me think of you differently. But not in the way you seem to think.” He keeps his gaze on you. “The kiss made me realize I want to know you.”

"Why- what do you mean-" you stumbled over your sentences, unlike him. "Veritas- it is obvious you kissed back, no reason to" small exhale, since you were talking too fast "get to know me"

A small smirk appeared at the corners of his lips. “I kissed back, it’s true. But let me ask you something...”

He stares at you for a moment. "What did you feel when we kissed?"

You deadpan. "My emotions aren't your business.“ then you straight up lie. „-only hoping to win the bet.“-

He can’t help but chuckle. You lied, and he knew it; he could just tell from the way you spoke.

He keeps looking at you, the smile still present on his face.

“Do you think I believe it? I doubt you felt nothing while we kissed.”

„Doubt all you freaking want, Veritas“ you roll your eyes, „you can't prove shit“

He looks at you still, grinning now. You can see the amusement in his eyes, and the way he is staring, as if he’s seeing you for the very first time. “You’re right. I can’t prove you felt anything. All I have is my intuition. And my intuition says that you’re lying."

"You can't prove it." you cross your arms across your chest. "Stop these accusations and your 'intuition' is wrong." You sound arrogant, and dismissive, trying to wiggle your way out of the conversation.

He chuckles once more, then he speaks, a bit more directly this time. “My intuition has never done me wrong. You can keep on denying it, acting arrogant—and that’s fine. But I bet you anything that, if I were to kiss you again, a second time, you would kiss me back. Just as passionately as the first time."

"You were the one to kiss passionately the first and only time we kissed." you shake your head "Veritas this is a waste of time- you want to 'get to know' me, oh please" gesturing with your hand.

Even as you speak, he is still laughing. He could tell your pride is wounded.

He keeps a straight, smug face. His words carry no arrogance, but the way he speaks has enough confidence for both of you. “...Then let me prove it to you. Just let me kiss you again.”

You are quiet for a moment too long because you are surprised at his suggestion, and refuse to think again about- "no."

He knows he’s caught you off guard. Your silence is an answer itself. One that just gives him more confidence. He smirks.

„...Afraid?”

„I am a scientist like you, I am not afraid. I kissed you in the first hand. I don't need to prove anything“

He chuckles. “You’re absolutely right, you don’t need to prove anything. Except you kissed me for the sake of a bet. But I kissed you for the sake of understanding you.” He’s still smirking he is planning something, but he keeps his gaze on you. “..And I bet the kiss meant more for you than you care to admit.” There's a knowing look in his eyes.

"You didn't kiss me, why are you talking in the past tense?" you scoff when he attempts to change the situation around.

He raises his brow, slightly impressed, and shrugs. “..Alright, you’re right. Let me change that.”

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out and pulls your face toward his. You could feel his warm breath on your face as he stared at you for a second or two, and just when it felt as though he would actually kiss you again. Completely surprised you gasp at the sudden proximity.

You can tell he’s enjoying the moment, since he leans in just a tad more, just enough for your lips to almost touch; his breath is hot and heavy, and his eyes still keep locking with yours as he waits.

It takes you a moment to place your hands on his chest and push him away. "Veritas, stop these foolish actions." You feel flustered at his advances.

He lets out an amused chuckle and steps slightly away. Though he has stopped his action, he is still smiling—which he knows is annoying for you to see. He still has a smirk and speaks. “..Do you think this was foolish of me?” There's something calculated in his voice.

"You won't prove anything and the one and only kiss that happened happened cos of the bet. Nothing more"

He keeps his smirk. “..Then how do you explain the chemistry between us? It’s all there, whether you’d like to admit it or not.” The neverending banter between the two scientists continues, both two proud to be that vulnerable with the other or to even take the other seriously.

"Screw chemistry. We dislike each other. And you pulled me away from my work to chat privately 'cos you wish to get to know me better? And now you wanna prove to me that I'm wrong by wanting to kiss me again? waste of my time-" you puff, you didn't even get a chance to think about the kiss today, and this isn't the moment to think about that. You can see the smirk fall for a second when you begin speaking, but then he smiles again. There is clearly something you aren't telling him.

He listens to your rant, and it only furthers his conviction. “..I agree, we do dislike each other. But that doesn't mean there can't be anything else. There are layers to dislike, and to liking someone.” He pauses. “..I want to see those layers.”

You roll your eyes „What I felt during the kiss is hope to win the bet that's it.“

He chuckles and speaks right away. “...Fine, I'll pretend to believe you, and not the way your face flushes as you speak. I'll pretend I don't feel the tension between us. And, I'll pretend that I don't want to kiss you again.” He takes a step forward and leans in again. “..And if you’re sure you didn't feel anything, then you shouldn’t care if I kiss you again. Because then, there's nothing to hide, right?”

"Well- no- maybe I don't want to be touched or something" you sigh, your brain just now processing the information. "you want to kiss me again?" the soft blush creeps up your cheeks. He wants to kiss you again? You don't know what to think, or feel about that, and this isn't the time to process that either.

His smirk grew as you spoke. “Or, maybe you don’t want to be touched because you’ll feel something. If there’s nothing to hide, then there’s nothing to refuse. Just let me kiss you once more, just to prove that you’re lying to me.”

„I'm not lying.“ You crossed your arms.

He smirks once more, and a hint of satisfaction crosses his face.

“Then let me kiss you. Why refuse, if you believe that all it was is only a bet? I want to kiss you to prove you are lying about not caring about the kiss. I want to kiss you to prove you are lying when you claim to have felt nothing, that it didn't feel good. So it isn’t about winning, isn’t it..? It’s about you being embarrassed at how much the kiss felt good to you.”

„Why are you so needy about wanting to kiss me- we dislike each other-„ you hush your voice as a coworker passes by, you two were still standing in the hallway. „-and no point for me to kiss you to prove a point. I'm above that.“

He follows your movement and lowers his voice to match yours. “...The reason I’m so adamant about wanting this kiss, is because I think we’ll have a revelation. I know we dislike each other, but..” He pauses for a moment. “...But there’s more to us than that. So come on, if you don’t have anything to hide, kiss me again. No one else is watching.”

„No“ you stand your ground „I don't need to prove it, Veritas“ Your pride wouldn't let you do anything less than stand your ground.

He chuckles at your stubbornness. “...I have to give you credit for that, it’s admirable. But I’ll keep on trying until it works.” Still keeping his voice low, he speaks once more. “...Kiss me. Please.”

He sees your stern gaze falter when he asks so blatantly and also says please.

„My emotions during what I did for the bet are none of your business-„ Your voice getting hushed as another coworker passes by „-Veritas.“

He takes that small sign of weakness and uses it as an advantage, leaning towards you a bit. His breath is still hot on your face, and you can see his smirk grow wider. He speaks, with an amused, almost teasing tone of voice. “..Are you refusing to kiss me so adamantly because you might actually enjoy it? Because you have emotions you don’t want me to know about?”

You sigh. „Veritas- cmon, this is pointless at this point.“

He keeps leaning closer to you, and he speaks while still teasing you. “..Well, you keep denying everything I said about you. You keep insisting that you only kissed me for the bet. So then, prove it and kiss me again—and feel nothing. Prove it right now.”

„I'm tired of this, Veritas.“ you sigh. Even in your apparent exhaustion, he feels the tension in your voice, the small crackle of doubt and curiosity in your words. Again, he speaks as he keeps leaning in, his breath still hot on your face.

“...Just one more kiss. To prove you're telling the truth. Then nothing else.”

„To shut you up, fine“ When your lips meet, you are doing your best to not move them in the beginning, to not touch him, and to stay fully still.

And you do, at first, stay fully still. Your lips are warm, and you can feel him leaning in more and more, but you refuse to do anything in return.

After some time, however, you feel a shift. With his movements, he’s now coaxing you. He pulls you towards him a bit more, his breath is still warm, and he’s now kissing you, softly but passionately, as he wants you to kiss back... He notices how you aren't budging putting on a good performance of not feeling anything. He wants to see more of a response, and he begins to nudge you to see how you would react. He places his hands on either side of your face and continues the kiss. He wants to see you lose control, instead of being this disciplined. He wants you to feel passion.

His hands actually touching your face almost makes you lose your focus, but not quite. He can feel you start to crack under pressure. It’s almost cute to watch you struggle. He decides to test his theory; he begins pulling you against himself, your bodies now pressed against each other. One arm wraps around your waist.

When you feel him pull you closer the focus breaks, your lips depart and you return the kiss, the kiss itself turning longer. Not even caring when a coworker passes by, your eyes are closed.

He can feel you responding to him finally, instead of trying to prove a point. Your eyes are closed, you’re no longer trying to hold back. His fingers trace your cheek as he keeps pulling you even closer so that your bodies are now up against each other.

Your back against a wall and he pressed against you, your hand traveling up to rest on his chest as the kiss kept going, turning more passionate

You can feel him press himself against you, and he wraps his other arm around your back; both his arms are now on you. He is taking charge and is leading the kiss. His fingers move from your cheek to your hair, as he pulls on it, and keeps the passion steady. His hands, your lips, his body pressed against your back... Everything feels so close and so warm... It’s as though no one or anything else exists except for you two.

And it feels good.. the kiss feels good for the both of you, each touch, you both feel the slow burn in your lungs for air, but keep kissing.

It feels extremely good. To feel your lips against his, to feel the heat and passion that keeps growing. Your arms around him, his arms around you. The feeling of your warm body against his body. The slow burn in your lungs, yet wanting more and more... The only sound that continues to play is just the sound of you both slowly breathing together, as your lips continue to lock together. Each touch brings in more and more passion...

You pull away, leaning his head against a wall to breathe. Your lips are swollen slightly as you breathe heavily.

Veritas pulls away as well and leans back from the kiss with a smirk. His lips were also plump, and swollen. Your breathing is heavy and quick, and he can see that your cheeks are slightly red. He seems slightly pleased and looks at you with that same teasing, smug smile.

„Proves nothing“ you deny it immediately.

His chuckle grows louder. “..You really hate admitting you enjoyed it, don't you? Even now, even after the long kiss. So much denial. So many excuses.��

„Tsk, you proved nothing. I'm just a good kisser that's all“

He laughs at your continued denial. “..You sound like a child now. Good kisser, who are you trying to fool? I saw your breathing and your expressions. I felt you getting more and more into it until the kiss became passionate. You’re denying the truth now just because you don't want to admit it.”

„There's nothing to admit except that we dislike each other, Veritas.“

“If there’s nothing to admit then there's no problem if I kiss you one more time, right?” He begins to lean in towards you and raises his brows as he waits for a response.

„What for?“ you protest, but the protest is much smaller than when he wanted to kiss you the last time. You can see his amused smirk form again, but he keeps his demeanor calm as he replies.

“..For the last time. To really get proof from you that the kiss meant nothing. A long, slow kiss, where you can’t deny anything. Surely you won’t say no to another kiss from a good kisser like me, now will you?”

„You have your proof, Veritas!“ He whispers it loudly as someone passes by.

His smirk grows wider, and he leans even closer this time. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he speaks in the same tone as you. “...There’s obviously still something missing. If you’re going to insist that the kiss meant nothing and that you have nothing to prove, then you must have no problem if I give you one last kiss.”

„You got enough of my lips today.“ You raise your chin, shaking your head gently. He really did… get to kiss you a lot today.

He chuckles at this, and even though he has heard it before, his smile grows wide. The more playful you get in your protests, the more confident he gets in his stance. “Just another one won’t hurt then, right? I mean, after all... you’re the supposed ‘good kisser’ here. And I believe that you’re good enough to kiss me in a way that makes me realize that the kiss meant nothing to you, correct?”

You sigh. „You aren't letting this go?“

He laughs at your sigh. “...Just another kiss to shut me up, that’s all. Come on, it should be easy then. Unless you’re afraid of what might happen?” He leans closer and raises an eyebrow.

„Fine. One last to prove you wrong again. How do you want it this time?“ You question him, annoyed at first sight, sighing.

“..Same as last time. Slow and passionate, with you completely giving in to your feelings. But just one more request this time. Make it longer... I want this kiss to last a little longer than the last one.”

„The last one was too long, and passionate. Why would I repeat it?“

He chuckles and replies, his voice now teasing. “...Do it how I want this time. Make me believe that the last 10 minutes or so was nothing but a game. Prove to me that you’re just a good kisser. Prove it by giving in to me and my kiss. I want to feel all your emotions. I want to make you lose control. So do exactly what I say.”

„I am just a good kisser“ you sigh „Fine, c'mere“ you gesture to him, as you are still leaning on the wall, to come to kiss you.

Veritas seems amused by your continued protest, and his smile grows. But he does do as you say; he begins to close the distance between the two of you until your bodies are once again pressed against each other. You can see the smug smile on his face, knowing he has gained the upper hand in this 'game’. He begins to kiss you, as you requested, and he pulls you into him with his hands on your waist, letting the kiss last longer...

You again try to hold back for a moment, but his hands on your waist relax you... you kiss back.

Veritas feels you relax, and he continues the kiss, using his hands on your waist to pull you even closer to him. His fingers trail up and down your back, and he is now fully embracing you in his lips. He is taking a deep breath in now, as he keeps kissing you. You can feel the heat of your bodies pressed against each other, and feel each of the sighs from your both. This kiss seems like it will never end, and this 'game' is now in another league entirely.

You enjoy the kiss, the soft caressing of his fingers on your body. Your hands go up his torso to hold onto your shirt, one hand moving higher to tangle in his hair.

Your touch causes him to feel something even deeper within himself, something that he hasn't felt in a long time. His passion starts growing more intense the longer the kiss goes, and he can feel you letting yourself go. The heat from your body is so intense, and the scent of his cologne combined with your scent is intoxicating. Your fingers running through his dark blue hair are sending shivers down his spine, and the embrace of his hands around your waist is like a safe shelter around you.

Then you both get lost in the kiss, with no thoughts, or rivalry or who is passing by, just each other's touch and lips. Other thoughts quickly vanish from your mind, and all you can focus on is this kiss. Your bodies are pressed tightly against each other, the heat growing hotter as time goes on. Nothing is more important right now; there's just both of your lips and the two of your bodies. Nothing else exists right now. It feels like the kiss will never end, and it feels so right. The passion is undeniable and unrelenting.

In a moment you separate to breathe, technically where the kiss should've ended, just before he puts his lips on yours again you exhale and whisper his name „Veritas...“ And meet his lips as he kisses you once more.

Your whisper sends a shiver down his spine, and he pulls you closer once more. At this moment, his name is enough. The way you said it so softly, almost in a whisper, is enough.

It doesn't even register to you that your lips separated and started another, until you hear a group of people, about to turn your corner, who are talking. You pull your lips away, leaning away from him, your head leaning onto a wall, and moving your hands off of him.

It makes you realize just where the two of you are standing. Veritas looks down, slightly embarrassed but you can see the faintest of smiles on his lips. His fingers brush your cheek as you both break the embrace. The lingering scent of his cologne is still heavy in the air, and you can feel the heat of the hug still lingering on your body. You can feel his breath against your cheek.

People pass by, and you don't say anything.

Once you both seem to fully realize the gravity of what just happened, the reality of your situation kicks in. It was an innocent but long kiss, made only longer when you had both decided to keep the whole thing going. The voices of people are louder now, and the two of you are both still breathing heavily and still hot from the heat of the long kiss. The moment is now over, though the scent of his cologne and the lingering taste of the kiss still lingers.

You are preparing yourself for your accusations of lying and that it wasn't just you being a good kisser, you curse yourself for mumbling his name earlier.

There is a moment of silence between the two of you. The noise of people passing by gets ever louder, but it still seems faint to you. The scent of his cologne is still lingering in the air, filling your lungs and your mind. You can feel the breath of his voice against your cheek, as you still feel every inch of the touch from his body that you just experienced.

He looks into your eyes, and for a moment, the silence, the smell of his cologne, and the taste of his kiss are all so intoxicating that it's almost like nothing else exists. Your lips are slightly swollen from his kiss, and there are still some traces of his saliva mixed into your lips.

„Veritas...“ you start, attempting to make up another excuse

He looks at you with a teasing and playful look on his lips. From the expression on his face and the way he's staring at you, it's like he knows he's cornered you now. He smiles at you, and a small twinkles in his eyes. He can't help but chuckle. His look is now mixed with amusement as well because he knows your pride will stop you from admitting anything. He raises one of his eyebrows and waits for you to continue.

When he doesn't interrupt you, like you hoped he would, and then he even smirks and raises an eyebrow...you know you are defeated, you can't make a truthful excuse, caught red-handed… you turn away from him, lightly hitting the wall with your hand and resting your head against it and he can hear you mumble a quiet „... shit“

Veritas’s smirk grows wider as he looks at the defeated look on your face. You still refuse to actually speak, and he can’t help but feel amused at the realization that your pride is completely keeping you from admitting what is obvious. He knows that all he has to do now is let the silence set in. The silence in itself and your attitude towards him makes it obvious.

You turn back around and face him again, and the exact moment you meet his eyes you look elsewhere.

He laughs quietly as he stares at you. Your blush is bright, and your face is slightly red, which is why the first thing you do after turning back around is to avoid eye contact. He can't help but smirk at this, and he can't stop himself from speaking. "Can't look at me anymore, can you? Am I that captivating?"

„You're like… average“ you scoff, not looking at him still. Which almost makes you laugh but you manage to hold it in, the lie too obvious as you say it aloud.

He scoffs, not able to hide his amusement. He knows damn well he's not average. He can see that you know he's not 'average' as well.  "You want me to take that as a way of you finally admitting that you let yourself enjoy that kiss? Or is this still some desperate attempt to play it off as nothing?"

„Veritas please stop this torture.“ You complain.

He laughs softly for a moment and then sighs. There is a moment of silence again, as he stares at you. "I think I've made this painful enough. If you just admit the kiss meant something to you too, then the 'torture' will stop. Do you want that?"

You nod „Fine. It is rather obvious now.“

His whole demeanor shifts immediately. His mischievous grin that was playing on his lips immediately turned into a soft, genuine smile. He can see that the game has ended and that now he is talking to the real you, the one who let themselves get carried away with that kiss. He has a look of affection that he had been hiding behind the disguise of mockery.

You aren't meeting his gaze, arms crossed, lips swollen, cheeks blushed... and if someone were to come close enough they'd smell the two different scents… your perfume and his cologne.

He chuckles because he sees that you still can't quite meet his gaze just yet. He stares at your lips for a moment, thinking of that kiss and just how intense it all seemed. The scents of both your perfumes are still lingering in the air, and for a moment, you feel like you're still locked in that kiss.

„Fine. Fine. Fine.“ you sigh „Bet was the bet, nothing special, earlier today. I- then- just- didn't expect you to kiss back. I didn't feel anything special.“ And yet later on now... you have kissed three more times.

He laughs softly, knowing exactly how wrong your entire statement was. Both of you know it. It's obvious that you actually cared enough to play this 'game' with him, and you felt enough to get lost in that kiss. He can spot the hesitation in your eyes, the way you avoided your gaze, and the stutter in your words. But he still can't help but tease you. "Is that right? If you felt nothing special, then why did you let it go on for so much longer than it had to? And why the second kiss? And... the third one?"

„No, I meant the bet… was nothing special. Well.. mostly“ Your honesty is a double-edged sword.

That answer alone tells him everything that he needs to know. "Mostly? And what was the rest of it then? Were the other kisses something special for you? Or are you just gonna say they were just you being a good kisser?" He scoffs quietly.

„The bet one... I didn't expect you to kiss back- I kissed you just cos of the bet- to "lighten" you up, and then you returned the kiss.. and that was... surprising.. and then you wanted to chat in private and requested kisses to prove a point.“

He sighs silently, hearing your explanation. He can feel that your words are just excuses, that the kisses still mean more to you than you let on. The more you say, the more he smiles. It's clear that you actually want to continue this flirtation, even if you might not want to admit it. "Is that so? Because it seemed as if it meant something even during our bet... and the whole conversation we had in private. It all meant something to you, didn't it?"

„I think it was obvious I'm too deep in to make excuses after the last one- remember I turned around, punched the wall- I had nothing to say- why are you pushing this?“

A soft smile spreads across his face, and he chuckles. He can see that this flirtatious exchange has gone far beyond a simple game of proving a point. There's something about you that simply has pulled him in completely, something that he just cannot help but tease and flirt with. He's now just enjoying it and enjoying you as well. "I'm pushing this because I want to see you admit more about your feelings. And... I like teasing and flirting with you. Because it feels so damn good just being around you."

„Since when do you feel good being around me? We dislike each other. I...“ Your words are honest, „I don't know why it felt so good..“

He laughs softly, amused again that you refuse to actually see what you're feeling now. "We dislike each other, huh? So that was what our conversation was then... A long, intimate debate about how much we dislike each other. And that whole kiss, just a simple game of me teasing you. And this too."

His soft laugh is filled with a teasing tone, as he begins to lean closer and brush his nose against yours.

You sigh „Veritas... it appears to be... complicated“

He hums, as he leans in closer. His words are softer now, as he speaks with that same teasing, playful voice. "Complicated, huh? How complicated? Are you starting to admit to yourself that you feel something between us?"

„I can admit. But I do not know what it is, I only found out today and so did you, unless you're hiding something from me?“ You speak quietly.

Your quietness only sparks him even more, as he continues to stay just a few inches away from your lips and your face. He looks at you with that mischievous smirk on his face, as he can sense your confusion. "So does that mean the kisses were not just meaningless flirts then? Because from my perspective, you seemed to be enjoying it a lot. I'm not hiding anything. Also realized today."

„You enjoyed them too.�� You softly say.

His smirk grows wider; he can't help but love the teasing moments like this. Both of them enjoy these little flirts, but neither wants to be the first to just admit their feelings. "You... you're right. I enjoyed the hell out of every kiss. It was intense, it was passionate... and I couldn't help but get completely lost in it."

You look into the distance recalling the way it all felt... You zone out for a couple of moments.

He hums, sensing that the two of you are now getting more serious. Neither of you can deny the chemistry between you both, and that has only grown the more the two of you have kissed. He can see how much your thoughts are wandering now, and he loves that he has you this speechless, filled with so much emotion, and yet so clueless about how you're feeling. This is the most vulnerable that you have looked at so far, and he wants to keep it that way...

He moves closer now, getting just inches away from your face. He can smell your cologne and the air that is filled with both of your scents. The air feels so heavy and so full of emotions, where every inch of you feels so close in his presence. His voice is soft, and he begins to speak softly, almost in a whisper. "If you truly do want us to end this little game of back and forth... then you can just admit it now. Say the words, just say how these kisses meant something to you."

„I already did, Veritas“ you sigh.

His smirk grows and he nods his head, his eyes still staring right at you. The silence at that moment makes the feeling all the more intense, and even just being so close to one another felt so intoxicating. The quietness of his words had you feeling nervous, feeling excited all over again, and yet even that moment felt so real and...so honest. "I know you've been hinting at it....“

„The kiss felt good, you felt good.“

"Good? You felt good, I felt good... but is that it? Is that just the full story? Because I have a feeling that there's more."

You roll your eyes „Veritas Ratio, I won't repeat myself.“

The teasing moments that had made him feel so intoxicated earlier have suddenly turned into something else... something deeper. It felt as if the two of them were not playing games but expressing their honesty. He leans even closer now, as close as he can possibly get without actually touching your lips. "How about a deal, then? I will stop pushing you to admit how you've felt... if you say one more thing that you haven't said yet."

You meet his eyes „What is it?“

He lets the silence settle and linger for a moment, as he stares at you with that same, mischievous grin on his face. He can sense that this is finally getting far more serious, and that has his attention completely drawn in. He leans in even closer until he is practically touching your lips with his own, he's so close. "Tell me what made you enjoy every single one of our kisses... and just how much you actually have enjoyed me."

„Those are stupid questions, Veritas“ you scoff quietly due to close proximity. He is just trying to tease at this point.

He chuckles softly at the scoff, his eyes narrowing, but still holding that same mischievous grin on his lips. The proximity feels intense, the closeness of their faces, the heat coming from either of them, the two of them being so close that their bodies are almost touching. "But I don't think they're stupid at all. I don't think they're stupid because I want to hear each word from your lips, each and every reason as to why you've liked our kisses so far."

„How about you talk a bit about why you wanted to kiss me and your assumed feelings?“

His smirk grows wider, and a soft laugh exits his lips. You can sense the amusement in him still, but he also takes another look at you. He sighs and nods, and he looks away from you and speaks truthfully. "Why did I want to kiss you? Why did I enjoy them? The same reason as you, I think. Which is... because my emotions have been completely tied up around you. I want that closeness, I want that intimacy. That was the whole reason why I even continued flirting with you..."

You sigh, seemingly lost in thought, but if he asked you to look at him, he'd also see that you are smitten. Seeing that you are lost in thought, he doesn't say a word. You can see the expression of amusement on his face slowly fading, and being replaced with a more affectionate look and expression. He seems to sense the truth in your thoughts and the way your words have suddenly become more honest. You feel like if you asked him to look at you, the same expression of endearment would fill his eyes.

The kisses make your confused feelings bare, naked, vulnerable in front of him. You for some reason like him. And now you wait as to what he will do.

It's as if this unspoken understanding has been fully created between you both. You both seem to sense how deep these moments have become for one another, and it doesn't even need verbal words for you two to sense just how much these kisses really mean to you both. For the first time, you have fully revealed your emotions to one another.

All he can do is sigh, and he begins to speak softly again, the tease of a flirt just completely replaced by that of a heartfelt, affectionate moment. "It's true that these kisses felt good because I felt like I could finally express my emotions toward you. These kisses felt good because the whole reason I've been flirting with you is that... I've felt...this deep connection with you that I can't explain. This connection, I've wanted it to be more... I've wanted to be closer with you. And... all these kisses just felt so good because... because I've just wanted nothing but to be with you. Well, I only realized it recently."

„I'm surprised that we discovered this... after disliking each other for years up until this day.“

"We've finally discovered it, and I'm not surprised that neither one of us has admitted it earlier today. We've always been so stuck in this game of hatred that we've missed out on...something amazing. I guess you could say that we've played this game too long, and so it took a few kisses to finally start seeing just how wrong we both were."

You nod „Gods-„ you put your head into your hands „The rumors will be awful“ You remember hearing footsteps during the last kiss.

He sighs softly, as he places his hands onto the back of your head and gently begins to brush your hair with his fingers. It was true that the rumors were something you two would have to face, he felt like it would somehow be worth it. "Do you think we should really care about the rumors though? There's always going to be rumors, and this is one that you and I know is true. So, let them talk, but let us focus on what is really important."

You look up at him „Veritas...“

He grins softly, as he sees that your gaze has now met his. He feels so happy as if he can finally be honest with you at this moment. The rumors may spread, but you feel as if that would be a small price to pay for what it would be worth. "Yes?"

You just sigh softly.

He hums, as his hand begins to brush your chin, which leads him to gently stroke your cheek. The way you sighed so softly made him feel so...so warm and happy. You both were finally seeing the full truth of your feelings, and it felt as if everything bad in the world was melting away.

„We gotta go back to work...“ As your words break the silence of that tender moment, his smile fades away, and he sighs. It was true that all this was happening during working hours, and the both of you had been gone for a while already. "You're right, isn't it late already? We've been gone for too long..."

„Too long yes...“

He nods and pulls his hand away. "Yeah... we've both been gone too long. So, should we... should we go back before they notice?“

„Oh trust, they have noticed“

He chuckles softly, as he nods again. "Yeah, you're right about that. I'm just more surprised they hadn't come to check up on us yet."

„They wouldn't dare. They probably thought we were fighting… but the rumors will start soon.“

He nods. "They probably did. But you're right, rumors will definitely start spreading soon. I wonder what would they say about us though... about how far we went... about what we could have been doing in this hallway..."

You laugh „Ah yes“ in a mocking tone „Rumor spreads about Doctor Ratio and the lead researcher, long hated rivals seen making out in a hallway“

His smirk grows, as he chuckles softly, too. Your words seem hilarious, and yet they are also a bit...a bit too true. He can see that he would definitely not be surprised if this was suddenly the newest rumor around the office, with many, many different versions and details. "Lead researcher and hated rival found together... making out in a private room... for at least an hour. The rumors will probably even mention how long our kiss lasted, and just how much we wanted it to continue."

„Oh stop it“ you gesture as you two walk slowly back, just at the mention of the kiss you remember how good it felt.

He laughs softly and follows along, also remembering the kiss but feeling how it has made him more affectionate. He reaches his free hand over and rubs your shoulder, his touch feeling affectionate. "You know it's true. The way you feel, the way I feel, and the way they will now interpret what's going on. If I'm being honest."

You sigh „Probably “ you stop for a moment, closing your eyes in the memory of the kiss, his cologne taking you back.

He stops alongside you, as he smiles. He can't help but look at the way you have just closed your eyes as if you can picture the moments clearly and as if the kiss has become a core memory for you. He doesn't say a word, not even wanting to break that peaceful silence.

„Sorry-„ you open your eyes, realizing you stopped walking, giving him the perfect opportunity for him to also seize this moment and do it again. This time, he takes advantage of that moment, and he begins to lean in again cupping your cheek, his lips now almost touching yours. He holds his breath, his body beginning to lean towards you all on its own. He stops for just a moment, only a breath's distance away from your lips before he leans just a bit closer...

„Veritas-„ you speak his name.

Your words have become the trigger for this kiss, one that you will never forget and will always cherish. As he hears his name called, all those emotions inside of him suddenly begin to boil up. Your voice... the way you call his name has so much depth and feeling in it. The feeling of you saying his name is what sends him off the edge, as his mouth instantly meets yours...

You return it immediately, no longer pretending at the beginning of the kisses.

The two of you have finally let the kiss take over, as you return the passionate gesture in kind. Your kiss is no longer filled with the awkwardness or the tease of the flirt, it has become something passionate and almost...something more. Your voices may have spoken about how far you feel from one another, but the kiss you two had just shared speaks for itself, and it says so much more than words have ever could.

Your hand travels up to his hair pulling your lips closer.

He can't help but gasp as a loud moan escapes his lips, and the feeling of having his hair pulled fills him with even more energy. Your touch feels just the right amount of rough and soft, as he leans into that pull and meets your lips even further. That pull in his hair seems to have added just that little bit of spice to this passionate, energetic kiss.

You're surprised with his loud noise, and quickly swallow his moan with your lips, drowning the sound from anyone who may hear it.

The way you had instantly swallowed your moans had only brought him to moan even louder. This was more than just a simple kiss, this was an intense, passionate kiss. One that was completely out of control and only getting worse. It was exactly how this kiss should be, and he can't help but moan even louder in response, and he only pulls you in even closer now. You whine softly when he pulls you closer, you think how he will just get you both in trouble by being that loud. Truly a menace with the way he keeps making lewd noises.

He laughs quietly now, a soft and almost teasing laugh, as he pulls back for just a moment just to speak. "You know you like it when I pull you in this close. I can hear you whining, and it sounds so damn good."

„Did you have to moan- three times?“ you scold him, whispering.

He smirks at your scornful and seductive tone. "I mean...I could have just groaned once. That would have been enough for the effect, right?"

You stop your movements, your brain trying to imagine how his groaning would sound... you lean onto the wall behind you „Fuck... d- don't give my head ideas to imagine.“

He laughs at your reaction, a soft and teasing laugh once more. To you, he seems to have this way of making you feel both embarrassed and intrigued. This time is no different, as he leans just close enough so that he can whisper into your ear. "Don't worry my dear, now I have you picturing all sorts of things in your head..."

You whisper back „Fuck off“ And then you add „Don't you dare groan in my ear or I swear-„

He only laughs again, a bit more playfully this time. And then he whispers closely to your ear. "Just imagine me just groaning into your ear right now. It's almost as if I can hear your heart racing with that thought, it's so loud..."

„Veritas“ you warn „Don't you dare“ You feel like the energy and tension between you two is high now, and those types of noises would do some things to the both of you.

Instead of listening to your warning, he only leans in even further, to the point where he is whispering mere inches away from your ear. "Come on now, imagine the deep and sexy groan, the way my body almost presses into you. There's no denying this connection between us, dear..." The small nickname makes you smile.

You keep imagining, but you fear he'd actually groan on purpose which makes your knees weak. He senses your weakness, and so he whispers once more. "I could start to groan at any second now, and that thought alone probably makes you feel weak and weak in the knees. I bet that the thought of me just slowly groaning into your ear, sensually, makes your heart race with desire..."

You whisper back „Fuck off Veritas“ He is teasing at this point.

He laughs, and then he whispers back. "Why? You're thinking about it, aren't you? The thought of a deep, loud, sensual groan? The idea of it almost pushes you to your limits... to just let yourself become so overtaken by that feeling of desire..."

„I have to return to work you menace-„ you whisper.

"Oh, I see. You're back to just calling me names. I suppose that means I really am driving you crazy, am I?" He whispers, teasingly, as he then adds. "And what is it that will happen if I keep whispering things into your ear? Will you suddenly explode from too much desire? Or will you just be too embarrassed?"

„Veritas“ you warn sternly.

He sighs, as he finally leans away, back to his original distance from you. Instead of laughing back at you this time, he simply chuckles and gives a playful smirk. "Is that a warning? I didn't realize I had such an effect on you. Do I need to stop with my playful flirting, my dear?"

„We will see how you behave when I threaten you with such a noise- except you didn't actually make the noise“  Speaking normally now. And you're right… but maybe you should raise the stakes… play this game.

That sudden change to your volume has brought out a soft and teasing grin on his face. "Oh, so now you're going to threaten me with noises that you're going to make? I suppose then I'll have to threaten you on the sound of kisses. Because it is your lips that I keep on imagining, and it only makes my imagination run wild as I remember that sweet and sensual kiss..."

„Hm“ you tilt your head, smirking, then lean in to whisper „Imagine just us laying on the bed... wouldn't it be so nice the way I would moan your name, Veritas? wouldn't it sound so good?“ Then you actually moan into his ear just to tease him back and drive him insane.

He laughs softly as he feels the moan against his ear. He can feel some chills run down his spine, as his body begins to shiver a bit, too. It seemed this moan of yours...this moan that was now echoing in his ears...it was beginning to drive him absolutely insane. He was finding it easier and easier to picture the two of you lying on the bed together, and your moans suddenly felt all too real now.

You left him standing there with his thoughts, he seemed zoned out as you are now walking a tad further ahead.

He sighs as he begins to follow you as well. It seemed that the flirting was a bit too much to think about right now. However, he is curious about one thing.

"Just one question, my dear. How many kisses did we even share just now? How much time was dedicated to only kissing one another? We've kissed many times during the day, but this one...this one felt so real.“

You say simply. „5“

His eyes widen, as he listens to your answer. He's surprised to hear such a high number. There were indeed several kisses in their conversation, but did time seem to have really been that fast with each kiss? "Five kisses...wow. Really? I guess when two people who have such high intellect and intelligence, time does seem to pass us by too often, doesn't it?"

You are soon by your lab doors, slowing down your walking. Once you do arrive at the lab's door, he just stares silently at you for just a moment. He knows that there won't be another moment for flirting today, as work is soon back on the plan of action for both of you. And yet, he can't help but gaze at you for this last moment, this look is filled with affection, admiration, and even a small bit of desire.

„Staring is rude, Veritas~“ You smirk as he stares at you.

He simply chuckles, as he continues to stare even after you speak. "Staring at you... staring at you can never be rude. You are like a picture - a rare artwork that everyone should appreciate, look at, and examine. The only thing that is rude about staring is that I can't do it all the time. Your beauty should always be on full display for others to gaze at in awe."

You laugh softly „I'm more of a need-only-one-person-in-my-life type of person“

"I am not one to argue on that. Although I am curious to know what I am that makes you want only me. Is it my voice? My looks? My personality? Or something else that has kept you on a leash?" He smirks, his stare still not changing one bit.

„Go work, Veritas“ you smirk entering your lab, not answering to his assumption that you only want him. But it was a correct assumption. Refusing to also answer to his remark of being kept on a leash. You can only laugh to yourself at his words.

He smiles, and then he rolls his eyes, but there is no true annoyance behind this gesture. Instead, it's more humorous now. "Fine, I got work to do too. Just remember, you're not getting rid of me that easily." He then waves his hand back at you, before heading off to his own lab to finish his work.

[neil-gaiman]

Dear Neil,

I hope you're fine!

In 2023 one of the nicest and reveberating thing, that happened to me, was, that I got know Terry's work and after some time, your works too, and, of course Good Omens (yeah...I don't know either, what took me so long...😉).

So, thank you so much for your written universe, I feel totally comfortable in it!

Some time ago, I also got your rewriting of the fairytale "Hänsel and Gretel" by the Brothers Grimm in my hands. I totally like how you made it your own in some way, but also did not disregard its core about wits, endurance, gumption and love. And I have high standards😊, because I grew up with all the Grimm's fairytales and I, even as a small kid, disliked the editions, which tried to paint over fear, sorrow and in some tales, violence and horror, too. Without these plots the solution in the end would just be half the relìef! As you said in your review about Tatars The Annotaited Brothers Grimm the fairtyales are magic mirrors about the world we see or we want to see and which we have to cope and deal with every day.

My three favourite ones are

1.Die Bremer Stadtmusikanten/The Town Musicians of Bremen

Even if your closest people tell you, you are not enough (anymore), you don't fit in and you are worthless, you one day, will find your bunch of soulmates, who are good for you and you can the hell Rock'n Roll with!

2. Die sieben Raben/The seven Ravens

The girl does not wait for some Prince Charming. She herself gets stuff done and does not get herself haunted by some mistakes her parents did years ago.

3. Das tapfere Schneiderlein/The valiant dressmaker

Sometimes weird and spontanous decision can turn your whole life around, in a good way, because they give you the self-consciousness to get it on.

And (finally, sorry) here come my questions:

1. Which are your favourite fairytales of the Brothers Grimm?

2. And why?

I wish you and your family a very merry Christmas, or holidays, and a very good year!

Have fun with Good Omens 3! ❤🌠

Greetings from Germany!

I like your choices, although I'd swap Hansel and Gretel for the Musicians of Bremen.

[nyracel]

i think the biggest problem i have with the whole team discourse in f&b + hotd is that it isn’t just about which characters you like more/who you want to sit on the throne at that end; it’s that each side is fighting for completely different ideologies, regardless of one members personal beliefs. grrm could not have made it anymore clear.

team black isn’t just fighting for rhaenyra to be queen, they’re fighting for the monarch’s right to choose an heir, for the oaths they swore years before, for the complete opposite of precedent/tradition: the king’s word is law. team green isn’t just fighting for aegon to be king, they’re fighting for tradition, that no matter the words of a king being law sons will always come before daughters, that oaths are fickle and don’t matter. each side is in some way fighting back against what’s already been established for the kingdom, but the end goal is completely different.

we’re not given as much insight into why most of the houses initially sided with rhaenyra, but we do have an inkling into how the green council felt and acted, however. jaehaerys choosing baelon over rhaenys (against andal tradition, the king can choose his heir) is one point. the great council of 101 is another. alicent, despite being the leader of the council, is removed from the equation and shoved off to the side when it comes to swearing oaths of loyalty between the members on account of her womanhood. daemon being a second coming of ‘maegor’ (despite what we know would be a better suited title for aemond, but i digress) is also used. when discussing who would side with them the vale is automatically disqualified from the list, due to them presently being ruled by a woman, jeyne arryn. she doesn’t choose to fight for rhaenyra for the sole reason of them being kin, but because her own right to rule can and will be put into question if aegon steps over rhaenyra. because she is a woman. she does so in spite of her dislike for daemon (and his supposed maegor-ness) too.

even if one were to look at each characters personal feelings about the succession the fact of the matter is that rhaenyra is usurped because she is a woman. it’s stated almost blatantly multiple times before and during the war. the greens use scapegoats and smokescreens in attempts justify it (her ‘bastards’ chief among them, but legally her sons live and die as the trueborn children between her and laenor, with the reminder that septon eustace refutes this claim to begin with). even when she is killed grrm has her breast pricked to arouse a dragon that doesn’t want to kill her (and why is that?). aegon ‘wins’ against her and is king, but then why is jaehaera, as his last living remaining child not named his heir? why is aegon iii put ahead of her, despite being the enemies son? these are rhetorical questions. aegon had no plans to ever consider her his heir, he made it clear with how excited he was to marry cassandra baratheon and produce more ‘strong’ sons. his dragon (who had fought and bled for him the entire war) wasn’t mourned properly, he couldn’t wait to hatch a ‘new dragon, prouder and fiercer than the last.’ yet he wasn’t even capable of doing that in the six months before he too was killed.

it’s also safe to mention that grrm created an entire separate lore story, one that would seem to have no bearing on the original story unless you’re capable of understanding symbolism. the amethyst empress is usurped by her younger brother the bloodstone emperor, and the first long night ensues from this decision. rhaenyra (amethyst = arryn blue + targaryen red) is usurped by her younger brother aegon ii (bloodstone = hightower green + targaryen red) and the dying of the dragons, the very creatures needed to stop the next long night, are eradicated, along with the magic needed to hatch them and keep them alive (until). the war is the blacks (power, death, grief, rebellion, restraint) versus the greens (ambition, greed, jealousy, anger, wealth). the amethyst empress is important to the main story in the same way that rhaenyra is important, that snubbing the women (an integral aspect to the power the targaryens held) of house targaryen can lead only to disaster. daenerys is the key, the one to break the cycle and fix the wrongdoings caused by her ancestors obsession with power. mother of dragons, mhysa, breaker of chains, slayer of lies, daughter of death, the dragon queen, azor ahai come again, the prince that was promised will bring the dawn.

you can argue for technicalities sake all day, but there is a meaning to this story beyond the scope of rightful heirs. and it shouldn’t be shoved off to the side just so you can praise your favorites and hate those who go against them. it makes for a poor consuming of the actual story. fire and blood was created as a history book to expand on daenerys as a character. her family, what and where she’s come from, and how she relates to them. she’s the antithesis to every targaryen that’s come before her, a hero in her own right. the only targaryen’s we can say are radically important to dany’s story are the conquerors (aegon the conqueror with teats) and rhaenyra (the amethyst empress). i don’t know, just some food for thought.

edit: i have revised some of my opinions on this through a further reread but the gist of it is still the same.

[violet-shadows]

Moving On (Part One)

⊱ Next Part ⊰

Masterlist

Summary: After loving Azriel in secret for years, you decide it’s time for you to move on. 

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/Her)

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: drugging with the implied intent to commit SA, attempted kidnapping

A/N: Thank you for your patience while I took some time away. Hope you like this one. And thank you to the anon who requested this!

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

The phrase “with age comes wisdom” was true. You had long known better than to compare yourself to other females. The insecurities of youth faded as you came into your own and you learned to stop obsessing over minor flaws and shortcomings. You were a mature, adult female with no need to compare yourself to others’ appearances… except one.

It wasn’t Mor’s fault that she made you question yourself, but sometimes it was difficult not to resent her all the same. Mor was, as everyone knew, beautiful. But she was also magnetic, her ability to charm unmatched. You weren’t the only one that noticed her charisma and therein lay the problem. Azriel’s interest in Mor was his worst-kept secret. Only a fool would spend time around the pair without noticing the too-long glances and subtle blush on a certain shadowsinger’s cheeks. She had ensnared plenty of Fae in her gravitational pull over the years, but none so strongly as Azriel. It was ridiculous for it to irk you so much. Despite your friendship with the Shadowsinger, you had no claim on him and no reason to expect his affection. Still, when you thought of the way he pined after the blonde, and about all the ways you didn’t even compare to Mor, your heart ached. 

The idea of the truth coming to light was mortifying, though, and you knew you’d rather watch him chase after Mor forever than face his rejection. You buried your feelings for the Shadowsinger nearly as soon as you realized them, pushing them down so deep that not even your daemati High Lord would have hope of finding them. So, just as Azriel harbored his affections for Mor in secret, you hid yours, content to be nothing more than his friend if it meant keeping him in your life. You had made peace with the fact that Azriel would never be yours, accepted it, and moved on. Or at least… you thought you had. Then came Elain. 

You were the first to notice Azriel’s fixation with Mor begin to slip. First, his lingering stares became mere glances. Then, he stopped tensing up every time she walked by. The night she mentioned her most recent lover and Azriel didn’t so much as flinch, something like hope bloomed within you. You tried to stop yourself, reasoning that just because he was getting over Mor didn’t mean he was getting into you, but despite your best efforts, your affection for him was reignited once more. That flicker of hope made it all the more crushing when you realized that Azriel’s feelings had not faded, but transferred to another: Elain.

The High Lady’s sister was lovely, with light hair and warm brown eyes reminiscent of the female he had coveted for so many decades. Much like Mor, she was also impossible to hate. A childish part of you wanted to dislike her as if picking her apart might ease the ache within you. But as you got to know Elain, one thing became clear: Azriel had good taste. Even worse? It appeared she returned his affections in equal measure, despite being mated to someone else. You feared it was only a matter of time before the two would go from friends to lovers, and you were struggling to brace yourself for the fallout. 

It was the morning after Starfall when you finally made the decision. After watching Azriel and Elain dance around each other all night, trading warm glances and secret smiles, you knew it was foolish to continue pining. Azriel would never be yours, and it was high time for you to move on. So, the following morning you sought out Mor and made your announcement.

“I’m going to start courting,” you said, striding into the townhouse kitchen the next morning with your best attempt at a smile on your face. Mor nearly choked on her tea, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

“What changed?” she asked, composing herself. She had been trying to convince you to start courting for years, insisting that the males of the Night Court would all but line up for a chance to fall at your feet. You had always brushed her off, too caught up in your feelings for Azriel and skeptical that the pool of suitors was as vast as she claimed. Now, with your heart set on getting over the shadowsinger, there was no one better to find you a distraction. 

“I just think it’s time,” you shrugged, pouring yourself a cup of tea. Mor narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth to argue, but stopped, as if thinking better of it. After studying you for a moment, she nodded, a mischievous smile creeping onto her beautiful face. 

“This is going to be so much fun.”

 ⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

You should have known that Mor would take to the task of finding you a suitor with militant efficiency, but it still surprised you when she announced she had set you up on not one but three dates in the twelve hours that elapsed between your conversation and dinner. It also shouldn’t have surprised you that she would be less than subtle about her task. But alas, you were caught off guard when she gleefully informed you of this development over dinner. Family dinner. In front of everyone. 

“I’ve got three dates lined up so far. First ones tomorrow so you should meet me in the afternoon so I can help you get ready,” she chattered. You were acutely aware of the hush that had fallen over the table. “I think you’re really going to like this guy.” Somewhere to your right, a fork clattered as if someone had dropped it, but you didn’t dare look. 

“Since when do you go on dates?” It was Cassian who broke the silence, and soon you were being inundated with a host of invasive questions from your family. 

“It’s just one date!” You shrugged, feeling your cheeks heat.

“Three dates,” Mor corrected.

“Again,” Cassian said, raising an eyebrow at you from across the table, “Since when do you date?”

“Since now,” You leveled a glare at him. Sure, you hadn’t dated much in the past, but that didn’t mean you never would. He opened his mouth to retort only to be cut off by a sharp jab to the ribs courtesy of Nesta. You shot her a grateful smile. 

“I think that’s wonderful,” Feyre interrupted. “You’ve worked so hard for so long, it’s about time you took some time to enjoy yourself.” You thanked her, no doubt still flushed 

“Whose the male?” Azriel, who had thus far been silent on the matter, startled you with the intensity of his tone. You turned to find him staring at you, his eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite place. 

“None of your business,” Mor replied sweetly, taking a sip of wine. 

“It is my business—” he growled, but you cut him off before he could finish the thought, suddenly indignant. He had no claim to you. He had done well to make that clear.

“It’s really not,” you cut in, trying and failing to keep the venom from your tone. Azriel’s mouth clamped shut and he gave a nod of acquiescence, a cold mask of indifference sliding into place. It made your insides churn with anxiety, but you tamped it down. He had spoiled your love life for long enough, you wouldn’t let him sour what should have been an exciting new experience. “I’ll let you know how it goes, though.”

Rhys cut in, swiftly changing the subject, much to your relief, but you couldn’t help but feel tense for the remainder of the meal. You glanced at Azriel every few minutes, your eyes drawn to his rigid form. Even though he was never much of a talker, his silence felt unusually heavy. By the time the meal finished, you were eager for a moment to yourself. You needed to recenter and remember why you were moving on. He wasn’t yours. He never would be.

You were leaning against the balcony railing when he appeared, clearing his throat to alert you of his presence. You tried to keep your posture relaxed as you turned to greet him, determined to act naturally. In all your years of friendship with Azriel, you never let your feelings impact your relationship. Now shouldn’t be any different, not when you were both pursuing romance with others. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to pry,” he said, his tone subdued. He joined you at the railing, drink in hand, and you raised an eyebrow. Out of all of you, Azriel was typically the least likely to imbibe. He shrugged at your unspoken question, brushing it off, and you resisted the urge to ask him about it. ‘It’s not my business if he drinks’, you reminded yourself. ‘Not mine.’ 

“It’s fine,” you replied, forcing yourself to relax, “I know you can’t help but stick your nose in things. Curious creatures, you spymasters.” He chuckled and you ignored the butterflies in your stomach, forcing yourself to look away from his handsome features and out towards the night sky glittering over the Sidra.

“What changed?” he asked after a quiet moment. You didn’t turn to look at him, though you could feel his eyes on your face. 

“Things are… peaceful,” you explained. “I figured it’s time to settle down.” 

“Since when do you want to settle down?” Azriel asked, incredulous. You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting molten gold, and for a split second, you contemplated telling him the truth. ‘I’ve never wanted to settle down with anyone… except for you.’

Instead, you swallowed thickly and averted your gaze, “Since now… I’m not a kid anymore, and I don’t want to end up alone.” The last bit slipped out before you could stop yourself and you winced. It sounded so vulnerable when said aloud. Pathetic even. 

“You’ll never be alone,” Azriel said quickly, leaning in slightly. “I would never let you end up alone.” You looked up, meeting his gaze, and your eyes burned with unshed tears. He didn’t mean it the way you wanted him to, and it made your heart ache all the more fiercely.

“I should go,” you murmured, looking down at the drink in your hand. “Thanks, Az.” You walked away then, afraid that if you stayed if you said anything but goodbye, the careful lie you had built up would crumble before your eyes. You needed to keep your feelings buried, now more than ever before, or you feared they might eat you alive.

“Y/N?” Mor intercepted you as you took your leave, her brow furrowed with concern. You swiped at your cheeks, only then realizing that the tears in your eyes had fallen. “You okay?” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you replied, flashing a fake smile. You didn’t give her a chance to question you further, nor did you look back when you felt another set of eyes burning into the back of your head. 

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

“So? How did it go?” Mor met you back at the townhouse, bouncing on her feet with excitement. You had just returned from your third date of the week and you were starting to feel a bit guilty about your lack of enthusiasm. 

“He was… nice,” you replied, trying and failing to sound optimistic. Mor’s face fell and she sighed. 

“You hated him,” she surmised. 

“No!” You shook your head, desperately trying to come up with a diplomatic way to describe the male. It wasn’t that he was unpleasant, just… bland. “He was nice. And handsome. We just didn’t… click.” 

Mor groaned, “I’m sorry. I really thought this one might be it.” 

You shrugged, kicking off your heels and joining her next to the hearth. None of the dates had been bad, per se. They just weren’t right. They weren’t him. “Maybe it’s not the right time to date.”

“Nonsense,” Mor dismissed with a wave of her hand. “We just need a new strategy.”

“We?” You asked.

“Yes, we. We’re a team here,” she replied. “I’m taking my job as your matchmaker quite seriously.”

“Maybe matchmaking doesn’t work for me,” you mused. Mor furrowed her eyebrows as if deep in thought, then her expression brightened. 

“That’s it!” She exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa. “We just need to have you meet people organically.” 

“How?” you asked.

“Well, the first step is to get you out of this house,” she said, moving to fetch her bag and your coats. “You’re already dressed and the night is still young. We’re going to Rita’s.” You groaned, but before you could protest she was dragging you out the door. 

You had been to Rita’s more times than you could count, most often brought there by Mor and Cass when they were in the mood for a wild night. In fact, it was at Rita’s where your friendship with Azriel was originally forged. Like you, the shadowsinger found the glitz and glamour of the club to be a bit much, preferring to hang back in the shadows and observe, rather than take part in the chaos and revelry. Over the years, the two of you had developed a sense of comradery, sticking together in the booth while the others danced and drank the night away, content to sip wine and exchange witty commentary. When Azriel stopped going to Rita’s in favor of spending time with Elain or working late, you started to decline Mor’s invitations as well. It had been months since you last stepped foot in the building and years since you did it without Azriel at your side. As you walked the streets of Valeris with Mor, you had a feeling tonight was going to be very different than you were used to. 

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

“Do you ever get tired of it?” you asked Mor, sipping on your third drink as you watched the latest male slink away from your table, his attempts at flirtation politely declined. You were used to Mor drawing a great deal of attention, but tonight it seemed that nearly every male in the city was either staring or attempting to charm their way into your booth. It was somewhat unnerving, being under such close scrutiny. 

“Tired of what?” Mor asked, raising one perfect eyebrow. 

“All the attention you get,” you shrugged, accidentally making eye contact with one of the males watching you from the bar. You blushed, looking down at your drink when he met your gaze with a wink. “I feel like we’re on stage.” 

“You think I’m the one drawing attention?” Mor snorted, shaking her head.

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking down at your outfit. Your dress was perhaps a bit more conservative than the regular club attire, chosen with a romantic date on the Sidra in mind. However, you assumed Mor would tell you if you looked terribly out of place. 

“They’re staring at you,” she explained. “I’m here all the time. You rarely come out, and this is their first chance to see you without your guard dog scaring them off.” 

“Guard dog?” 

“Why do you think males never approach you when we’re here?” she asked. You stared blankly, the alcohol muddling your mind enough to keep you from following. “Think about it. Every time you come here, one of the scariest males in all of Prythian is glued to your side and staring down anyone who breathes in your direction. Why else would you not get approached?” 

You blinked, mind reeling at the revelation. In truth, you had always assumed no one was interested in you, and with your attentions firmly fixed on Azriel, you hadn’t much minded. That was part of the reason you had never put much thought into dating: you didn’t imagine you had that many options. “I just didn’t think anyone was interested.”

“Y/N!” Mor scoffed, her jaw dropping. “That’s ridiculous. I doubt there's anyone in this room who isn’t interested.” You rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to dismiss her hyperbole when she caught sight of something over your shoulder and grinned. “See?” she whispered.

“Hello, ladies.” You turned to see the male from the bar approaching your table, a sly grin on his handsome face. He was tall, though not quite as tall as Azriel, with broad shoulders and sandy brown hair. He had an air of confidence about him that the others so far had lacked, and despite not being exactly what you wanted, he was undeniably attractive. “Can I get you two something to drink?” 

“I was actually just about to go dance,” Mor replied, standing up from the booth. “Keep my friend Y/N company, will you?” The male smiled and nodded, sliding into Mor’s seat before you could interject. Mor shot you a wink before slinking away, leaving you with the handsome stranger. 

“I’m Xavier,” he introduced himself, reaching out as if to shake your hand. When you provided your name, he surprised you by pressing a kiss to your knuckles, the way one might greet a princess. “I’ve seen you here before, but you’re usually with other… company. Are you waiting on them to arrive?” 

“Just Mor and I tonight,” you replied, spotting the last glimpse of your friend’s golden hair as she disappeared into the crowd. Knowing her, it would likely be the last you saw of her for the evening. Part of you wanted to call it a night and leave now that Mor was entertained, but another part, a more rebellious part, was interested in seeing where the night might go. 

“I suppose it’s my lucky night,” Xavier grinned, his eyes trailing up and down your body in a manner a bit too obvious to be polite. He flagged down a waitress then, ordering you both glasses of some fancy wine without consulting you first. It was a stark contrast to your typical experience with Azriel, who, despite memorizing your drink order long ago, always checked to make sure he got you exactly what you wanted. You shook the thought from your head as Xavier began to chatter, regaling you with tales of his travels that were no doubt meant to sound impressive. 

Although the male’s personality was somewhat grating, he relieved you of the burden of making conversation by talking incessantly, and you figured the illusion of company was preferable to sitting alone. Your mind wandered as he spoke, the bitter wine he had selected going down easier by the second glass, and when the waitress returned to fill your glass again, you realized quite a bit of time had slipped by. The crowd on the dancefloor had thinned, and the barbacks were beginning to wipe down empty tables, a sure sign closing time was approaching. You yawned, your limbs feeling heavy as you considered the walk home that was ahead of you. 

“I should go home,” you murmured, your head feeling fuzzier by the second. You hadn’t drunk an exorbitant amount, but the alcohol and late hour must have caught up with you, causing your eyelids to droop. When you tried to stand, the room spun so violently you nearly fell backward into the booth, grasping onto the now quiet Xavier for support. He made an off-color joke about handling your liquor, wrapping his arm around your waist to steady your swaying form. Your limbs felt numb and uncoordinated as if you had just emerged from an ice bath, and you had to cling to Xavier's side in order to exit out a side door of the club.

The cool night air was somewhat sobering, and you were able to orient yourself, turning to head in the direction of the townhouse. To your befuddlement, Xavier continued to herd you down a side street, away from your intended destination. Your garbled protests fell on deaf ears, with the male only tightening his hold on your waist, half dragging you forward through the quiet streets. A creeping feeling of dread began to penetrate your boozy haze, but you struggled to string together a coherent thought, let alone pull yourself free of his grasp. The alertness brought on by the cool breeze was fading, each step growing more difficult than the last. Soon, you were vaguely aware of Xavier slinging your arm around his shoulder, supporting most of your weight as you slumped into his side. “Take me home,” you managed to slur, your head lulling forward despite your best efforts to remain aware of your surroundings. 

Xavier didn’t bother with a response, continuing to lead you further into an unfamiliar part of the city. The numbness in your limbs worsened, and when your legs finally buckled, he swept you into a bridal carry. You pawed at his chest, trying to demand you be set down, but your arms wouldn’t obey and your tongue felt too large in your mouth. Instead, you groan incoherently, flailing weakly in his arms. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you were in grave danger, but without the cooperation of your body, you were but a passive observer at the mercy of this stranger. Just as tears began to slip free and trail down your cheeks, a deep growl broke through the quiet. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You knew that voice, though you couldn’t quite place it. Deep and smooth and full of fury, but comforting all the same. You relaxed slightly, your adrenaline-fueled grip on reality beginning to wane at the prospect of rescue. Xavier set you down, freeing one hand as he turned to face his challenger. You hung loose in his other arm, your eyes fluttering shut. 

“I’m just taking my girl home,” Xavier said, a nervous edge to his voice. His grip on your waist tightened to the point of pain, and for a moment, panic flared within you as you considered the possibility that your rescuer might be deceived. “She just drank too much.”

“That is not your girl,” another voice, equally as deep and familiar as the first, interjected. You trusted that voice too, though you still couldn’t put a name to either one. “And you’re not taking her home.” 

“Whatever, man,” Xavier sneered, moving to leave with you still tucked into his side. “Get your own, whor—” He wasn’t able to finish his insult, the vile word cut off by the sound of crunching bone. He was thrown back by some unseen force and you pitched forward as his hold on you disappeared. You braced yourself to hit the cobblestone face-first, but a strong pair of arms caught you mid-fall. The world spun around you as you were cradled against a warm, broad chest, their touch too gentle to be Xavier. The familiar smell of morning dew and cedar smoke washed over you like a soothing tonic and you relaxed into your rescuer’s arms. 

Azriel had come for you. 

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

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[woongisi]

Drum Line Dream // Song Mingi

dom!Song Mingi x sub!gn!Reader // SMUT

WC// 2.1k

Synopsis// Things went a bit off kilter with your college marching band crush. Turns out, all you needed to fix it in the end was some bad luck and deep fried food.

Warnings// semi-public, grinding/dry humping, pet names (baby)

Author's Note// Written in one sitting and definitely not proofread. Nothing too crazy this time but I HAD to get this very self indulgent idea out of my mind. This one's for you former and current band kids, I get you. ☺︎

---------

College marching band. One of your worst decisions, yet one of your best. There was no shortage of drama to be had but at least you'd met some of your closest friends.

You played the trombone, it was large and it was loud. Your type of instrument and coincidentally your type of man. Maybe you'd smacked a few too many people in the head with your slide or emptied your spit valve on the shoes of those you disliked. Regardless, you considered it revenge for how the wind instruments would sneak up on you and blow air into their reeds as hard as possible just behind your ear.

As far as instrumental squabbles went, you found the drum line to be the most tolerable. Sure, some of the snares made it a point to play as loudly as they could, but they kept it localized within their section. You had a hard time admitting it, but you may have held a bit of a bias toward them.

That bias was Song Mingi. Song Mingi played the bass drum. The kind that you had to pull over your head, two heavy straps bracing your shoulders on either side. The kind that burned through far too many expensive wool felt mallets. You never were sure how they beat them up so quickly.

You met Mingi your freshman year and got acquainted with him rather quickly, you never had much time to spend with him as your show for the year had you in separate areas for most of it. The same followed your sophomore. Now, you found yourself in your junior year.

Earlier in the year you'd ushered Mingi over and haphazardly told him he was hot, and that if he didn't kiss you, you might cry. There you shared a kiss high up in the bleachers, hiding behind the row of bass drums. Since that moment things had become a bit awkward, you apologized, claiming you'd been overly emotional and didn't want things to get in the way of your friendship. What you didn't know was the conflict that caused Mingi.

Song Mingi was one of your best decisions yet one of your worst, just as joining the band was. Something about him was addicting. Perhaps it was his deep voice, his tall and slender figure, his bright smile that lit up the room no matter where you were.

Away games were always your favorite. You may not be able to perform at halftime as often, but cheering on the football team was enough. Besides, there was something exciting about wandering the stands of school stadiums previously unknown to you. Some schools, like the one you were visiting this night, had fancier concession stands than others.

Halftime finally hit, you stayed in place for a few minutes to take a look at the opposing team's band and judge their uniforms before meandering your way to the least busy concession stand.

You greeted the student manning the stand with a smile and a nod, taking a moment to skim over the dodgy whiteboard that served as a menu. You settled on a thing of fried oreos, 3 pieces to a boat. You handed the worker some amount of cash and told her to keep the change. It was pointless to try and find somewhere to sit so you settled down a matter of feet away, leaning against the brick wall of the buildings.

Before you could even take your first bite, a familiar voice caught your attention. Mingi had approached the booth, somehow evading being noticed by you up until that point.

“Ah, I'm sorry. We just sold the last of the oreos for the moment.” The student sighed and briefly checked her watch. “There'll be more ready in about 10 minutes… but you seem to be part of the band.”

Mingi nodded with understanding. “I'll have to be back in the stands by then. I'll just take a coke. Thank you!”

Now was your chance.

“Psssst, Mingi!” You half yelled, half whispered and motioned eagerly for him to come toward you. Mingi was quick to approach, fumbling with his bottle of soda.

“Yeah? What's up?”

“That was me… sorry. You wanna share?” You held the boat of fried oreos out as an offering.

“No, no! You spent your money on those. You should have them.”

“I insist.” You stared down at his gloved hands for a moment. “Would you… like some help with that?”

You had removed your black wool gloves and bulky gauntlets before heading to find food. A foresight that Mingi apparently lacked. He nodded shyly, almost embarrassed, and thanked you.

“Here, open.” You grabbed one of the oreos, using your other hand to hover underneath it to guard against crumbs. You leaned inward, allowing Mingi to take the cookie into his mouth. “I've already got my gloves off, don't wanna make you mess with yours.”

Those lips. Forever your greatest weakness. All he'd done was take food from your hand and all you could do was try not to stare. The kiss you shared a year before lingered in the back of your mind. Soft. They were so very soft. Pillowy and normally faintly flavored by whatever chapstick he'd managed to dig out of his bookbag. You couldn't forget the feeling and even now you regretted how fleeting the moment was.

“Hey,” Mingi awkwardly shifted his weight to one side. “Can we talk for a minute?”

You felt like your heart fell to your ass, suddenly

worried about the conversation that was yet to come. Was he angry, upset, confused? You didn't know.

Mingi led you to a corner he'd spotted when the band arrived on the field. The bright lights didn't quite reach through to dispel the darkness and the area was sparsely populated compared to the concessions.

“U-uhm…” It was unusual, the way Mingi was so seemingly anxious. Your typical charismatic musician that so confidently backed the drum line had disappeared, replaced by someone far more vulnerable.

“Your face is seriously red. You sick? Need me to tell the director that you need time out?” You cocked your head to the side with concern.

Mingi shook his head frantically and grabbed one of your hands. Forcing himself to hold your eye contact, he finally continued. “Iwannakissyouagain-”

“What…?” Whatever he'd said was spoken too quickly for you to process.

“I… want… to kiss you again.”

That was when you learned it wasn't one sided, the memory haunted him just as well. Though you didn't expect simply sharing your snacks to lead to a confession, you certainly weren't about to complain.

You gripped Mingi’s hand back, urging him to follow you as you hurried to hide under the home team’s bleachers. Not a word exchanged in the meantime. This side of the stadium housed the press box, meaning there was more solidity to the structure and more places to hide beneath.

Pressing your back against the wall, you snaked your hand up to rest on the back of Mingi’s neck.

“I missed you, Song Mingi.”

Any hesitation that plagued his mind was erased in an instant. Mingi's lips collided haphazardly with yours, his hands holding your waist. This, you thought, is what you'd needed for a year's time. This kiss was unlike your first, already starting intense. Mingi had no problem taking charge, chasing your lips whenever you pulled away like a man starved.

“Mmn,” You tapped the nape of his neck. “Need to breathe.”

Mingi was undeterred, fumbling with the zipper on the back of your uniform jacket. You shrugged it off of your shoulders, leaving it to drape off of your elbows and grant Mingi access to your neck.

“Shiiiit,” You whined against him. You had never given the uniform jacket design any thought but presently you couldn't be more relieved that once you put it back on, the mock neck would cover any marks. “Needed this so bad.”

Mingi's ministrations were sloppy, hungry, sucking and nibbling lightly on your sensitive skin. A shiver shot its way up his spine, leading him to let out a quiet moan. That was a sound you decided you could get used to.

“Can't take it, wanna touch you.” Mingi growled, becoming painfully aware of his growing erection. “I'll make it quick. Promise.”

“Mmk, anything, I'm yours.”

You rushed to remove your jacket entirely, discarding it to the side. You'd just have to handle the dust that undoubtedly covered it from the gravel layer. Mingi's jacket was soon to follow.

Your mouth gaped slightly, taking in the shape of Mingi's waist. Bibbers were tight, form fitting but so often hidden beneath your black and red jackets. You never realized just how slim his waist was but, now, you'd never forget it.

“Damn things.” Mingi grumbled, undoing the velcro and pulling down the zipper to his marching pants before assisting you with yours. There was no bothering with removing them entirely. Black tees and black shorts that laid just above the kneecap were standard for underneath the band's uniforms.

Mingi grabbed you firmly and flipped you around so that you had to brace yourself against the brick wall chest first. His strong arms held you tight against him, one around your waist and the other reaching over your chest and keeping you steady.

In this position, you couldn't see Mingi… but you could surely feel him. His breath was ragged against your neck with his hips grinding against your ass.

“Mingi, holy shit-” You didn't need to look to understand the considerable length of his cock. Four layers worth of fabric was too much, but at the same time so perfect.

Mingi’s arm situated on your waist slid downward, a gloved slipping beneath your waist band and swiftly finding your arousal. The sensation of the woolen gloves against your bare skin was almost cruel, too good and complemented by the unexpected skill Mingi possessed with his hands.

Low moans tumbled from deep in Mingi’s throat, sending shockwaves straight to your core. You'd heard him whine and groan plenty of times whenever he screwed up a formation for the nth time and on hot summer days when you were finally allowed a water break and moment in the shade. It was different to hear his familiar sounds in this manner. Despite the similarities, something felt more primal now.

Mingi was losing his control by this point, grating his aching cock hard against your figure and mumbling incoherently.

“I'm gonna cum, baby.” He nuzzled his face into you, resting his chin on the area just next to the back of your neck.

“Me too, keep going, cum for me.” You sacrificed one of your arms to muzzle your desperate moans. To be caught was one of the last things you needed.

Mingi broke first, a deep and drawn out whine tearing from him. He continued to rub himself despairingly into you, riding out his own orgasm while trying to keep up with you.

It didn't take long for you to follow in his wake. The building coil of pleasure building in your stomach finally snapped, drenching Mingi’s hand in your fluids. Your moan caught in your throat leaving you to choke back a cry.

For a moment, everything was quiet but the buzz of the nearby breaker boxes and the sound of your heaving chests.

“Fuck, thank you. Thank you so much.” Mingi praised and guided you both to rest on the cold ground. He grabbed your hand with his clean one and smiled brightly as if he hadn't just rocked your world in the midst of a football game. “Can we never keep ourselves away like we have been again?”

“Of course. You have no clue how long I've been yearning for you.” You cleared your throat. “Well, I suppose you do now.

Only after kissing Mingi’s cheek did you scurry to gather the estranged components of your marching uniform. The game was back on, your bandmates wondering where in the world you could be.

“Mingi.” You whispered with realization, “Your glove.”

“Whatever,” He sighed. “Here's the story, ok?”

Mingi cobbled together some cover up. Some mostly coherent story about how you slipped and fell, dropping your drink leading to him accidentally putting his hand right in the puddle on the concrete. He only hoped they didn't question why your uniform was largely devoid of any liquid.

Reaching the away team's stands, one of the snares crumpled up a nearby napkin and flung it at Mingi’s face with expert aim.

“Dude, where the fuck have you two been?!”

If only he knew.

[thevelaryons]

why did daemon chose to marry laena? I have always thought it was because she is prince aemon’s granddaughter and her mother and brother laenor were at some point considered jaehaerys’ heirs, we know daemon is ambitious so marrying her will bring him closer to the throne. but the show made laena (who is interested in flying more than boys) the one who seeks him out, she even admits that she was not his first choice.

The show has a lot of odd writing decisions that depict characters acting opposite from their book counterparts so trying to determine the motivations of the book characters by looking at the show versions is an exercise in futility.

Daemon clearly had a preference for Valyrian women. His favourite paramour was Mysaria, he willingly chose to marry Laena and then Rhaenyra, at brothels he was described as picking the Valyrian maidens, and he had no interest whatsoever in the non-Valyrian Rhea. So just as he had, at one time, wanted to have a family with Mysaria, this time too, with Laena, he could create a family with a suitable partner.

Though I’d say his reasons for marriage were more personal than political. Apart from being Valyrian, Laena is also a beautiful young woman described as having a fiery & adventurous personality, she claimed the dragon Vhagar at a young age, and she is the daughter of two people who Daemon is already familiar with. All of that would appeal to a man like Daemon.

Corlys is the type to keep an egg in every basket so I think he would see the political value of the Daemon/Laena marriage, but Daemon’s actions don’t make him appear to be acting in any political interest.

Prince Daemon fell in love with Laena, the singers would have us believe. Men of a more cynical bent believe the prince saw her as a way to check his own descent. Once seen as his brother’s heir, he had fallen far down in the line of succession, and neither the greens nor the blacks had a place for him…but House Velaryon was powerful enough to defy both parties with impunity.

Daemon is more pragmatic than people believe, so I don’t see him as the falling in love at first sight type. But his marriage to Laena was clearly not about the throne either. If Daemon’s claim is considered low on the line of succession, then Laena’s claim is even lower. Daemon would have to go on a murder spree to eliminate Viserys/Rhaenyra/her sons/Aegon/his sons/Aemond/Daeron, and then he and his children by Laena could be considered claimants for the throne. Clearly Daemon was not doing any of that.

Prince Daemon knew that his brother would not be pleased when he heard of his marriage. Prudently, the prince and his new bride took themselves far from Westeros soon after the wedding, crossing the narrow sea on their dragons.

It’s said that Daemon chose to leave Westeros after marrying Laena. Daemon is many things but not a coward. So it wasn’t simply a case of fearing his brother’s wrath. Daemon, hardly if ever, fears Viserys. Daemon’s marriage to Laena removed him from the political sphere entirely.

He and Laena returned back to Westeros only after they had children, at which point they took up residence with Laena’s family. It’s very unusual for a man in Westeros to be living with his in-laws, but that’s what Daemon did.

Laena is described as a fiery girl and Daemon is given the description of hot tempered. In his wife, Daemon found someone who could match his personality. They’re a very fire on fire dynamic. Just like Laena, Daemon also claimed his dragon. They both seem to dislike the stagnancy of staying in one place and are rather restless individuals (at least until they become parents). For many years, Daemon was stuck in a marriage to Rhea just as Laena was stuck in a betrothal to the Braavosi boy. They both know what it’s like to be devalued, Daemon because of his brother’s dismissal and Laena in general because of her gender being the reason she was passed over as heir to the throne. But neither of them are defined by this, judging by how Daemon chooses to live his life on his own terms and not by the whims of his brother and Laena not being bothered by the distance to the throne. So I’d say their marriage was a case of two like minded individuals finding common ground with each other.

[sepublic]

            Looking back, a lot of us assumed the statues in Gravesfield depicting Caleb and Philip as adults was an example of in-universe historical inaccuracy, kind of like how Pocahontas is portrayed as an adult, when she was actually a child when everything happened. But in hindsight, I have to wonder if this adult depiction is even a discrepancy to begin with, and not a point of clarification for the timeline of events for these brothers?

         I think what contributed to the belief that Caleb and Philip were children when the former entered the isles forever is because of Belos’ memory portraits. But we know they don’t depict everything, such as how Philip arrived in the Boiling Isles; From a Doylist perspective, the writers want to leave in some ambiguity, some mystery, and there’s only room for so many memories in the background.

         But as we learn in Thanks to Them, Caleb and Evelyn communicated through hidden rebuses to meet up multiple times; So their interactions in the human world took place over time, and it wasn’t just an instant, one-off meeting and then Caleb disappeared, his brother in hot pursuit. Dana even clarified in a Post-Hoot that Evelyn initially presented herself as human to Caleb and the rest of Gravesfield, and revealed herself after Caleb earned her trust.

         Maybe this happened across one meeting, one day; But the likelihood is that Caleb and Evelyn interacted as ‘fellow humans’ a few times before the truth was revealed. And they continued to meet up, discreetly contacting one another with hidden rebuses for the other to find and decode.

         So if all this happened over an unspecified period of time, who’s to say it wasn’t across years? And that by the time Caleb made the decision to move to the Boiling Isles, it was when he and Philip were adults; In fact, he might’ve even waited until Philip was an adult who could take care of himself, before leaving him to live his own life!

         Likewise, there is a valid interpretation that Caleb hid the truth of Evelyn from Philip, and wasn’t aware he was watching when he went off to explore the Demon Realm a few times, before eventually making the permanent move. But I think the other interpretation works, too; That Caleb DOES know Philip is there and watching. And he never made Philip enter the Demon Realm with him, out of a misguided desire to not make his baby brother uncomfortable, force him out of his comfort zone, etc.

         Caleb might’ve told Philip to wait for him back home, if he didn’t want to enter the magical portal with him; He’d be back! And Caleb did return, multiple times. And Philip didn’t rat him and Evelyn out because he was still a child, and not as dead set into his hatred yet… But I’ve compared Philip to King, as little kids with delusions of grandeur involving their enemies being crushed beneath them.

         And remember Really Small Problems, when King initially tolerated Luz going off to be with Willow and Gus, due to her promise to come back for him? But after enough time of feeling neglected, King’s resentment began to build up? Within the span of just one night, King wasn’t yet ready to intentionally make Willow and Gus ‘temporarily disappear’, but when it happened, he took advantage of the situation anyway instead of bringing them back ASAP, and eventually owned up to this mistake.

         So imagine how Philip felt across years; He may have disliked Evelyn, but not enough to want her dead… But after enough time of feeling resentful over Caleb dedicating time to Evelyn instead of just him, Philip became selfish and entitled over the fact that his brother dared to have a life that didn’t revolve around Philip. Until he became angry enough at Evelyn to want her dead, and retroactively fell back on the belief of witches as inherently evil in order to morally justify these desires, instead of admitting he was just possessive of his older brother. Plus, exposing Evelyn could make him a hero in the eyes of the townsfolk!

         We know there was a big fire, and we know Evelyn was declared a witch by Gravesfield. This could’ve been in response to her, Caleb, and Philip all disappearing; But it’s also possible that realization occurred while they were still there. And that it in fact may have driven Evelyn out of the human world, with Caleb following because he potentially ousted himself by openly defending her. Seeing his brother commit a moral wrong he couldn’t stand by could’ve influenced Caleb to leave when the two of them were adults; As was the ‘reassurance’ that Philip was now accepted by the town as a witch hunter who exposed Evelyn and spearheaded her exile, whereas Caleb was even more of an outcast for his collaboration.

         Of course, the idea that Caleb was an adult when he moved out does raise the question? Why do we not see this progression of age in the memory portraits? And again, there’s what I said about ambiguity and whatnot, but there’s also the conventions of the time skip. Just as TOH ends on a time skip where we don’t see the gradual progression of the characters’ aging outside of some photos, for the Wittebanes, whose story is only told through photos, the framing skips over the years Caleb and Evelyn interacted. The turning point in which the two met and the latter revealed herself was enough…

         After all, the portraits already skip past Philip’s aging to bring us to his arrival in the Demon Realm as an adult; Who’s to say they didn’t skip past years of Caleb growing up in Gravesfield with Evelyn? Caleb entering the Boiling Isles with Evelyn as a child wasn’t the last Philip saw of his brother, until he himself entered years later; But it was the beginning of ‘the end’ in his eyes, the beginning of when he felt he lost Caleb.

         In the end, a lot of this is speculative. It’s possible Caleb was only portrayed as an adult in-universe because the townspeople correctly remembered Philip being an adult when they last saw him, so generations afterwards made the mistake of applying this to his older brother. History isn’t as well-documented as people would like to believe, even the famous stories are forgotten and picked up after a while; Major details people should’ve easily remembered fall through the holes of time. Entire cities have been lost and rediscovered.

        But ultimately, the fact that Belos’ memories DO portray a ‘timeskip’ based on what we see of them anyway, in addition to the confirmation that Caleb and Evelyn met up over time before the former moved… I think that solidifies my belief that yes, Caleb was an adult when he left Gravesfield, as was Philip. The statues in Yesterday’s Lie are among the very first indicators of Caleb’s existence, as is the episode itself acting as a ‘debut’ of sorts for him in the lore. So maybe Gravesfield’s depiction isn’t so inaccurate, after all…

[ramoth13]

Interesting Trends and Voices in the Silmarillion Fandom

~

Although I have been a lover of Tolkien since the earliest days of my youth and have been a Tolkien Scholar for over a decade, I have not made too many forays into the Silm fandom other than when I was younger and more recently a few years ago. Thus, I was rather surprised by the trends that seem to be mainstays of the Fandom and which ones I've seen big shifts in. I'll mention them briefly, but please note, although I may share differences of opinion regarding these characters or themes, we all share a deep love of the source material and that makes us fellow Enthusiasts. Whatever our differences, we have more in common with what we love than that which we do not.

With that said,

A "newer" trend I've noticed is the number of Fëanorian apologists, which is rather surprising, especially given their vocality. Some of the more common trends in this vein:

~A general indifference towards Fingolfin apart from a "if he had been through what Fëanor had, he would have been that way too" kind of approach, etc.

~All of Fëanor's sons (but especially Maedhros) are often given the best possible excuse for every action and bad decision. Others like Thingol or Elwing, less so.

~Finarfin and his children are generally regarded as boring, except for Galadriel who is either, loved as being awesome, wild, and wise or slightly disliked for having ill-opinions of Fëanor or some combination of the two.

~Fingolfin's line is seen as either goody-two-shoes or full of themselves, with the exception of Fingon who is close friends with Maedhros.

~The Valar are often illustrated to be antagonists, especially when in opposition to the Fëanorians.

~In the same light, I've seen a few posts that portray Luthien as being somehow problematic, seemingly to balance out the negative Fëanorian interactions she endures.

~One of the more sad effects of this apologist line of thinking is the Denegration of Elrond and Elros' parents. In order for Maedhros and Maglor to be considered "good" their actual parents are seen as "bad" despite little evidence of that being the case.

~ It seems Fëanor and sons have become the golden child of the Silm fandom, a spot once reserved for Sauron and Morgoth, if memory serves.

NOTES:

These are all fairly intriguing lines of discourse and I understand that they are tied up in and often heavily influenced by the fan-fictions and fannons. Still, it does make me wonder, with how vocal the Fëanorians are (especially on tumblr), how many Nolofinweans are in the Fandom? How many fans of Finarfin's cohort (or as one Tumblr user once called them), the blondes?

Some older trends that continue:

~Thingol still sucks (at least by common thought). It is interesting that despite all of the love of the Noldorin lines given their proclivity towards violence and bad decisions, the fandom still has not been able to lend some compassion towards the reigning Sindarin Monarch.

~Celeborn somehow ending up with Galadriel is still a big mystery (I do love this one).

~Sauron is still seen as Morgoth's boyfriend/lover/etc.

~The Valar are antagonists (before this was due to the Sauron/Morgoth apologists, and now it seems to stem more from a Fëanorian view)

~Turin and Beleg are still a ship (I am pleased).

~Halls of Mandos Reunions (always a classic).

~Gimli/Legolas ship.

Some older trends I don't see as much:

~Fingolfin/Fëanor ship (I'm not upset that this one is scarce. Even in Fantasy, incest isn't my thing).

~Fingon/Maedhros ship (see above note)

~Celebrimbor is the greatest elf of all time.

~Melkor/Manwe/Varda and/or Sauron love triangles.

I'm curious to see what others think of these trends. I'll be the first to admit, I have always had a fondness for the Nolofinweans, but it is interesting to see the growth of the Fëanorian fans and how quickly their voice has grown into one of the primary topics of fandom discourse (which is good, I love the discussions!).

~ Ramoth13

[127luvr]

Hey, could you do (if u feel up to it) a platonic NCT Dream x male reader where he feels he doesn't fit into the group (only added in 2019)

Thanks

Best Friend 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

Nct Dream x Male Reader

It was early 2019 when the company announced you were to be added to Nct Dream. The exact date slips your mind more than you would care to admit. Mostly due to the fact that everything seemed too rushed—from Mark’s graduation—to your sudden addition—to the release of the first album as Dream without Mark Lee.

You were never sure if the decision to add you to the group was something the company had planned beforehand or something they came up with on the spot—you were too scared to ask. Nevertheless, fans had the same questions. They were split—half saying that this scheme the company had planned to replace Mark wasn’t going to work—while the other half were defending you. Busy making sure your name wasn’t dragged through the mud just because of the shady planning behind the scenes. None of it was your fault—the graduation system was always something that was on the table for the unit.

Knowing this information and understanding it didn’t stop you from feeling guilty.

Your late addition was awkward at first—having never been in the group when Mark was in it shifted the dynamic. You didn’t have to get used to Jeno being the leader, you were introduced when he was the leader. And although they never consciously made the effort to make you feel excluded, the feeling was still there. It was clear that they were still grieving the loss of their friend in their group—and suddenly here you were. Preparing for their first album without Mark.

After the success of We Boom, you went from being Mark’s replacement to just (Y/s/n). Fans saw you as a proper member now—and while there were still some skeptics, they acknowledged you and your talents. There were no malicious intentions towards you but something still didn’t feel right.

Following Reload, you were tired. It had been over a year since you had been added to the group but the feeling of being a disposable member was still overwhelmingly present. You felt like you were watching the members from afar, as if you were still a trainee admiring them from a screen. So close but never quite close enough to reach out to. There was no point in bringing up your concerns with them—scared of how they’d react to it, considering they have been friends long before you were a part of the company. If one of the members disliked you—it was more than probable that the rest would follow.

When the news broke out that the company was abolishing the graduation system, the group was overjoyed. Of course, you were excited too. You got to experience Mark Lee in the same group that you were in. But as the time quickly came to pass, his addition back into the group made you feel worse. He was everything you envied. Perfect at dancing—at singing—at rapping—at communicating. There was nothing he couldn’t do.

Luckily this came at a time where a full album was being promoted—no one would be able to analyze your interactions with your unit if you were busy in others.

“You’ve been avoiding us.” Sooner or later—you would have had to face your members. You had hoped it would be later. Maybe never, as you would have rather spent your time watching videos on the internet on yourself—how you didn’t fit into the group as a whole—let alone your set unit. But it’s come now, in the form of leader Mark in all his glory. “I know I haven’t been back for long, (Y/n). I know that this has been our first comeback as an eight member group, but something’s off.”

It’s after a live video. The eight of you are sitting in the living room of the large dorms. Jeno, Jaemin, Mark and Jisung all share a couch while Chenle sits on the floor. You share the couch opposite to them with Haechan and Renjun, sitting as far as you could get with your ankles crossed. It’s an uncomfortable silence that follows Mark’s words, all eyes on you while you played with the frayed ends of your sweatshirt.

“(Y/n). We are all a part of this group. Regardless of how long everyone’s known each other, you are a part of this family too.”

“I’ve been waiting so long to hear that.” There are collective gasps that come from around the room. It catches you off guard when you make eye contact with an angry Jaemin. His hard eyes paired with his long eyelashes intimidate you.

“(Y/n), I know you’re entitled to how you feel and this has been such a drastic change for you, but we have been trying with you for over a year. We have gone out of our way to make sure you didn’t feel left out.” You hate how well he’s able to articulate himself even under stress, his words falling on your ears heavily as he continues. “I do want to apologize on behalf of everyone for not noticing how hard you were struggling, we should’ve pieced it together. You never came to us with problems but we also never established that you could. We’re sorry for never giving you verbal communication but you can’t say we didn’t try. We are not a group who has to really say things out loud so we understand each other but you didn’t know that.”

You let yourself inch closer to the members next to you. There was no point in trying to make yourself smaller when the attention was still centered on you. It’s an odd sensation—to think back on the interactions you’ve had with individual members.

They were always there for you—whether it was a simple affirmation from Jeno or an invite to hot pot from either Renjun and Haechan. To them it was small acts to try and ease you into the group—it was sharing water outside of the recording booth in between sessions. It was sharing jackets and pushing their leftovers towards you if they didn’t want anymore.

“Jaemin… Haechan, Renjun, Jeno, Jisung, Chenle,” you make eye contact with each member as you call out their names, trying to express how you felt through your eyes, “Mark. I was too in my own head—thinking about how you guys didn’t like me or want me here that all of the effort you put into making me feel wanted and welcome was ignored.” You couldn’t hold eye contact with Mark anymore, too embarrassed to acknowledge his nod of encouragement.

“We also should apologize.” Jeno’s voice startles you. Even if he was across the room, his voice carried so far it sounded as if he were sitting right next to you. “We should’ve done a better job of noticing that you were struggling.”

“I think if we keep going like this we’ll never stop passing the blame around.” You can’t help but smile at Jisung’s comment, mouthing a small thank you towards Jeno as he elbowedJisung’s side.

“Jisung’s right for once!”

The group erupts in laughter, the scene causing you to chuckle through teary eyes.

“Here’s to new beginnings, guys. We’re a family.” Mark’s eyes never stray from you and for the first time in over a year, you believe those words.

[rin-solo]

Let me release some character headcanons into the wild real quick, specifically about Odysseus and his family. And by headcanons I mean my canon-compliant (as far as I'm aware) interpretation of their characters and arcs.

Penelope: A quiet, gentle, book-smart girl underestimated by everyone and considered "plain" especially next to Helen. Odysseus was the one who saw her for the interesting amazing person she was, hence why she fell in love with him.

She's logical, introverted, a bit of a nerd, and a little shy; she prefers to remain in the background instead of the spotlight. When Odysseus is away for 20 years and she deals with the suitors Penelope grows to be more resolute and bold, having to step into a leadership role even if she doesn't prefer to do so. She can kick ass if she has to (both verbally and physically) but doesn't enjoy doing it herself (setting her apart from the usual Spartan.) Even over the years, she remains introverted, preferring her books and her son's company over politics, battles, and annoying strangers.

She admires Odysseus for his bold leadership, his talent for improvising and handling crowds and attention, his cunning, and his battle prowess, the fact that he has and would never diminish or humiliate himself to impress or please anyone (even her), as well as his undying loyalty. Moreover, his bold, adventurous energy has always made each day an adventure and without him, her life feels really empty and dull. She's always been the steady, level-headed one in the relationship who doesn't shy away from telling him when he might be making a mistake and grounding and supporting him when he needs it.

Odysseus: A bold, somewhat reckless, confident boy who grew into a decisive, cunning king. Penelope was the one who saw his good heart underneath his carefree and somewhat condescending demeanor, acknowledging him for the well-intentioned person he really is hence why he fell in love with her.

He's got the smartest mouth in all of Greece and can talk his way in or out of *almost* anything. He's more street-smart than book-smart, able to improvise, lead, and think on his feet. He's unafraid to speak up and talk back (even to the gods), which has gotten him in trouble countless times (not that he'd ever stop.) During his 20-year-long ordeal, he naturally became more ruthless, less over-confident, and more willing to do what was necessary to reach his goal, but he never actually lost either his good heart or his true values, only covered them up because he thought he had to. Before and after he was a natural leader and diplomat, a cunning and strong warrior, and someone who isn't afraid to be in the spotlight and take responsibility when he has to. If anything, he tends to blame himself too much. Although after his return his trauma and bad experiences leave him more hesitant and insecure in his leadership than he's ever been; it takes a while and a lot of support for him to grow back into it and stop seeing himself as the monster and the one who is to blame for the deaths of his entire crew.

In Penelope, he admires her intelligence, her steadiness, her undying loyalty, and the fact that she will always ground him, call him out, and support him in often the same breath. He's always been the decisive one in the relationship with better people skills, but without her reassurance that he's doing the right thing, he is only half as confident in any decision made. He finds strength and assurance in knowing that she would follow him to the ends of the earth, but also keep him from straying onto the wrong path without hesitation.

Telemachus: While inheriting his father's bold, fearless attitude, he has also his mother's gentleness and dislike for politics. Growing up seeing how dejected and miserable she was because of his father's absence, he has developed a positive, sunshine attitude, also to brighten her life a little.

He's both naive and not at the same time; being bullied by the suitors for so long, he knows human depravity very well, but being stuck in Ithaca, he doesn't understand the sacrifice and pain that comes with being a hero. He's somewhat of an ambivert—book-smart like his mother but also fearless like his father. Mostly he's just a kind, good person who wants to bring light to the people in his life that he cares about and will always choose to greet the world with open arms when possible.

When his father returns, he becomes the new light in his life as well, helping him to open his heart again after what he's been through and giving him new hope in the way that Polites used to. He admires his mother's intelligence and dedication, and her endurance and ability to step out of her comfort zone and confront bad people when she has to. In his father, he admires his leadership, his loyalty, his endurance, his battle prowess, and ruthlessness—his ability to do what he has to do. Telemachus sees his own inability to be so ruthless as a shortcoming, even though Odysseus is more than happy that his son is not like him in this regard and tries to shield him from anything that may change this.

[yoomiwrites]

Sugar Rush²²

Summary: Reader has been working directly under the Admirals, Kuzan, Kizaru and Akainu for years. Little by little, the dynamic changes and friendship (and more) develops.

Note: Oh well. The end.

The next few days had been filled with an almost eerie quiet. After everything, I had expected something—anything—from Kizaru. But nothing came. Until one evening, when I was at home, trying to distract myself from the whirlwind of emotions, there was a knock at the door.

I hesitated for a moment, my heart pounding, but eventually, I opened the door. And there he stood—Kizaru. He looked different, not in his usual carefree, lazy way, but serious. There was something in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place.

"May I come in?" he asked softly, almost too gently for a man of his usual demeanor.

I stepped aside, allowing him to enter, still unsure of where this was going. He made his way inside, glancing around briefly before turning to face me.

"First," he said, breaking the silence, "You should call me Borsalino."

I raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the sudden request. “Why?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he sighed and leaned against the nearest wall, arms crossed loosely. “I want to talk to you… properly.”

I swallowed, feeling my defenses rise. “About what? About how you’ve been avoiding me for weeks? About how you disappeared after… after that night?”

His expression shifted slightly, his usual lazy demeanor faltering. “Yeah, about that. Look, I’m not someone who’s built for relationships. Not for marriage, not for the long-term stuff people usually expect.”

I blinked, processing his words as he continued. “But I do… feel affection for you. That night, it wasn’t just some passing moment. I enjoyed it fully, being with you.”

The admission sent a strange mix of emotions rushing through me. My anger, my confusion, the hurt—it all flared up at once, but I kept quiet, letting him speak.

"But my position… my job... doesn’t allow for mistakes," he went on, his voice lowering. "If it ever came down to it, if I was ordered… I’d have to destroy the very thing I care about. Even if it’s you."

His words cut deep, but instead of fear, all I felt was fury. "You think you get to choose for me?" I snapped, stepping closer, anger boiling over. "You don’t get to make that decision, Borsalino. I can choose what I want. I’m not some fragile doll that needs protecting."

He looked genuinely taken aback, his eyes widening slightly as my words hit him. “That’s not what I—"

"Yes, it is," I interrupted, my voice trembling with the anger I could no longer suppress. "I get it. Your job is dangerous, and you live in a world where choices are sometimes made for you. But I’m not afraid to take risks. You don’t get to decide for me. I’m willing to take the risk, but you need to stop running away from it.”

He stared at me, completely thrown off. For the first time since I’d known him, Kizaru looked… confused. Vulnerable, even.

"I don’t want to lose you," he muttered, almost more to himself than to me. Then, after a long pause, he said, "If we try this, if we really try, I won’t let you leave my side. You’d have to leave this island with me. Be with me wherever I go, even on the ocean, even in the battles… everywhere."

My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could barely hear my own thoughts over the rush of blood in my ears. The thought of leaving the island, of following him across the ocean I had grown to dislike, was daunting. But more than anything, the thought of being with him, despite the risks, felt… right.

I took a step forward, looking him directly in the eyes. "As long as you act like a man now, Borsalino, I’ll gladly follow you to the ends of the world."

For a moment, he simply stared at me, stunned into silence. Then, without any more words, he closed the distance between us, his lips crashing onto mine with the kind of intensity that made everything else in the world fade away. It wasn’t the gentle, hesitant kiss of before. It was rough, impatient, like he had been holding back for too long. My mind spun, tasting the familiar warmth of his lips. I melted into him, feeling everything—the anger, the confusion, the longing—all blur into one.

When we finally pulled away, he smirked, his golden eyes twinkling with amusement as he whispered, "You really are sweet as sugar."

I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a mixture of relief and joy settle deep within me. Maybe this was reckless, maybe it was dangerous—but it felt like the beginning of something that was worth every risk.

[writerastray]

Figure You Out

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Disclaimer:

⚠︎ My works are all protected. I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share it.

⚠︎ This work is only appropriate for adults over the age of 18. Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked.

-> Word count: 6.1k

-> Relationships: Bang Chan/afab!Reader

-> Rating: 18+ → Mature/Explicit

->Genre/Tropes:   Sexual Tension, Smut. Other Additional Tags to Be Added. (Spoiler tags: Friends to Something more.)

-> Warning tags: Cheating, Alcohol, Explicit Sexual Content. Other Additional Tags to Be Added.

-> Synopsis: You were in a nightclub with your boyfriend and his friends when your gaze locked with Chris, and from that moment, the night took an unexpected twist, blurring the boundaries between morality and desire.

This fic is part of the @skzwritingcafe May/June event "Blossoming love🌸"

They say spring means new beginnings and love. A time when flowers bloomed and drew people to their beauty, delicacy, and scent, as well as to spread hope for a better future.

You didn’t like spring, and neither did you see the appeal in pretty flowers. 

For you, they only attract bugs, make allergic people suffer from the pollen, and died too fast.

Yet you got red roses, with their borders decaying in brown, from your boyfriend to commemorate your six months together.

"Are you ready?" Tae yelled from the living room.

Lily’s bed was cozy and soft, and you could sleep right there if it wasn't for the music blasting in her small speaker. She was finishing her makeup. The baby pink walls were covered with posters and pictures from her travels. Her small frame crammed into a black leather dress, her skillful fingers applying eyeliner.

Tonight, you were going out to a nightclub. 

"Almost," Lily screamed back, taking it off her bobby pins that held her red bangs in a curled wave. You heard your boyfriend’s ‘for fuck’s sake’ from the door.

You went to her window, bored already. They lived near the park.

In the morning, all the trees were filled with pink, purple, and yellow flowers. Now, at night, you could see some of them stomped on. 

Lilly was still putting lipstick on when you got your purse and headed to the kitchen.  

San was playing on his phone, seated on the counter. You ignored his disappointed face when it was you that got out and not your friend.

You heard the loud laughter in the living room from Tae’s classmates. You only knew San and Lily because they were roommates with your boyfriend.

It was the beginning of the year when you and Tae started dating. You saw him at a frat party, and after a few drinks, you ended up in his bed. He told you it was fated that both of you met. For you, he was only one more nightstand, but then he made you breakfast and asked to go out with you.  Why not? you thought at that time.

You never experienced love. In high school, you used to fool around, but nothing serious, nothing that made your heart twist and your body tingle. Maybe it was out of curiosity that you said yes to Tae, to see if you could fall in love.

What a bad decision.

You sat next to San when he put his phone down.

"Wanna bet how much he'll get wasted?" He said, placing his arms around your shoulder.

"Thank you, but you've won the last three times."

From the open kitchen, you watched Tae tell a joke in the middle of his group of friends, getting his much-needed attention.

At first, it was all romance and sweetness between you two. You’d go on romantic dates like the ones in books. He would text you to say he was thinking of you in the morning. You used to cook dinner together. The weekends were spent in his dorm, in bed watching your favorite movies and whispering ‘I love you’ in the middle of the sex.

You loved the night walks the most. You would kiss him hard until both of you were breathless and Hyunjin appeared in the window, saying to you "Enter, or you’ll sleep outside''. Maybe this is why Tae disliked your roommate.

You have no idea when everything turned cold and boring.

The thrill ran away, and the butterflies were dead. You didn't feel anything. Not a pull, an attraction, or a connection. It felt like something you'd outgrown. What was the point of being with someone if it made you lonelier in their presence?

To be honest, you brought yourself into this situation. You should have dated him because you were interested in him, not because you wanted a romantic experience.

You know that the right thing to do is to break up with him, and you told yourself you'd do it soon. You made speeches in your head, imagined how he would react, and prepared yourself for the last goodbye, but every time you opened your mouth, the words caught in your throat. He was a comfort zone that you weren't sure you were ready to leave.

"Come on, Y/n," Lily said as she got out of her room. She didn’t bat an eye at San and took your arms, guiding you to the door.

"Are you guys coming or not?" She said it as if she hadn’t taken the most time to get ready. You tried to hold back your laughter at the faces of the rest of the group.

As your eyes searched for Tae to see if he would come to you, a blonde girl, who, according to him, was a new classmate he met in his anatomy class, grabbed his shirt and said something in his ear that made him smile. At you, there was no compliment, not even a glance.

The nightclub was big and packed. You were glad you chose to wear a dress, as it was probably a little hell inside. It was your first time here, but not Tae's, seeing as he already knew his way through the place, walking in front of the whole group.

A faint smile arises inside you when you glimpse the interior. You love parties. The loud music caused your heart to pound in time with the bass.

There were two floors and a rooftop bar, according to San. You saw the stage, which was already occupied by a DJ couple. 

You followed everyone to the second floor. Lily left her coat on a big circle sofa, and San went right to her. As the group ordered drinks, your eyes roamed around the place. 

The second floor gives you a great view. Each floor had a bar, neon lights, small round tables with stools. You saw the restrooms in the corners as well as two backdoors beside them.

A big circular entrance revealed an open area entirely crowded with people, which was most likely the path to the rooftop. Beautiful dancers made the crowd cheer, then a new performer went to the stage. You were about to lean in to see who it was when your gaze was drawn to the other side of the VIP section. Right into Chris.

Your heart skipped a beat. You felt the thrilling sensation all over again, contouring and filling your body. You tried not to beam, but happiness is hard to contain when you see your friend on the other side of the room. 

He was resting on the guardrail in a secluded area. He was talking with another guy at his side. You were used to seeing him in sweaters and beanies, but tonight he was in a tight black shirt that leaves nothing much to your imagination, with black pants. You could see the black ink of the new tattoo on his forearm.  

You turn back to see Tae. He was taking shots with Lily and San. Good. 

You walked to him and got the bottle of vodka, serving a shot for you and another for him. You could see the surprise in his eyes when you made a silent toast and emptied your cup. As you heard Lily cheer, both San and the rest joined, and Tae’s eyes shined in delight as he drank with you. He loved attention. 

He poured more for him and you hid your grin. 

Let him be so wasted that he will completely forget you. 

If he saw Chis, his mood would sour, and he would complain to you about your poor taste in friends and ruin the whole night.

When you came to college, one of your parent's friends had a son who started college the same year called Hyunjin, and he lived in an apartment right up to a coffee shop where he worked. 

You killed two birds with one stone: a job and a roommate.

Once you started dating Tae, it was needless to say that he didn’t like your roommate being a guy. And a very attractive one. He wasn't possessive when you were around his friends, so you often crashed into his house and stayed in San or Lily’s room, but around your friends, the story was different. He didn't like Hyunjin or Seungmin, your classmate, and he despised Chris. Although he may have a reason for it.

You met Chris during a motorcycle street race since your friends and boyfriend were interested in watching one.

You remember being in awe of his motorcycle, even if you didn’t understand shit about it. And you remember his sweet smile when he asked you if you had ever ridden one before. You shook your head. And the way he leaned close to your ears, hands on your waist, and asked if you wanted to ride with him later was impossible to forget.

You went to heaven with a simple question.

Maybe this was when everything between you and Tae fell apart.

After the match, you walked straight to Chris; he won second place then. Tae saw both of you talking that day and tried to stop you, but you couldn't stop yourself. You wanted to get a taste of the rush of adrenaline, just like you felt when Chris touched you before the race. You have never felt anything similar with Tae. So you basically ditched your boyfriend to ride around town.

You didn’t regret it; you have never been more alive than that night. Butterfly on the stomach when your eyes met Chris' dark ones; shivers when he gave a slight and small touch on your ankle every time he would speed up; heart twisting at every word you heard from him later, when he left you home.

It was a nice surprise when you found out Chris was a childhood friend of Hyunjin.

Tae walked to you and put his hands on your back, taking you off your thoughts. Did he see Chris here? You try to turn and block his view of your friend smiling innocently at your boyfriend when you focus on the scene behind Tae.

"You're going to stay here?" he asked. But his tone was more like an instruction than a question. He does it a lot these days.

There are a lot of things he doesn't do nowadays, too.

Every time you two went out, he barely talked to you, and when he did, it was the same dialogue, and you'd zone out more than listen to him.

Then you tried to invite some friends of his, even if you barely knew them, and go out together but it was even worse since he straight up ignored you.

The sex was the same routine. You already knew exactly what he would do, and you knew what he liked too. And even if you did feel good, you didn’t feel anything more. It didn't feel any different than self-satisfaction.

The weekends were game nights with his friends only. And you didn’t mind because you’d just spent the day with your friends too. And the worst is that you don’t even think of him. No texts of goodnight, good morning, or “I miss you’s” throughout the day.

You watched his friends, already on the stairs, dance their way to the front of the stage. You nod at him, telling you were fine and to have fun. 

He had drunk a lot at this point; you could smell the alcohol on his breath. And when he's gone, you could go have fun with Chris.

You watched all of them jumping to the song as they got close to the stage. Tae would have a headache tomorrow from being so near the soundbox, and he knew that, but now he was occupied glancing at the blonde girl. You didn't care; you had someone else on your mind as well.

You smile as you feel a warm touch on your waist less than a second later.

You recognize every single part of Chris. Especially now that both of you spend almost all your weekends in your and Hyunjin's apartment. Especially when you would almost kiss him after he spent the whole day riling you up or when he would study while you worked at the coffee shop with Hyunjin and say, "I wanted to spend time with you." And later, you'd go to the second floor to read, study, listen to some new music Chris produced, or do nothing together.

Chris doesn't do relationships, Hyunjin once told you. And if you fell in love, your heart would end up broken. He said it as if you didn’t have a boyfriend you were supposed to be in love with. 

You don’t know how you feel about Chris exactly; it isn't love. Just something else. And for you to find out, you know what you have to do. Break up with Tae. And Chris made it so easy. Like it was merely a choice in a board game both of you were playing. And deep down, you hoped he’d win.

You turn to see him with a smirk on his lips.

"What are you doing here?" You said, making him laugh, and you wanted to kiss him right there.

"A friend of mine performed tonight." He said, tilting his head. Eyes playfully on yours.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming? You knew I’d be here."

"Wanted to surprise you."

"With my boyfriend around?" You roll your eyes.

He winked, and you shook your head, ignoring the mess your heart was in. You put some distance in, getting close to the guardrail again. The party was at its climax. Chris slides beside you.

"You look amazing in this dress," he said.

You wanted to compliment him and say he looked like a god, but the words got lost when he shifted his body toward you. He gently touched your hands, and the sensation of his skin on yours made you salivate. Then he grins at you before getting closer to your side. So close, you felt his breathing on your neck.

"You look good too," you managed. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard him giggle close to your ear.

"What are you doing later?" He asked. He was probably meeting important people from the music industry here.

"Probably sleep in Tae's. Lily wants to shop tomorrow anyway."

He nodded. Humming in understanding as he places his hands on your waist, drawing small circles

It was like this with him. Words and touches, where you might get misled by the meaning behind them. Never really showing his cards. You didn't want to show yours either. At least, not now.

"What if I have a better offer?" He said, and then his hands went on your hips, holding it tightly.

"I came with your best friend tonight. We could ride around."

You smirk. He was talking about his motorcycle. Chris does a good job of being persuasive.

"Grab some pizza and convince Hyunjin to make us those nice coffees." His warm hands slipped lower, too close to your ass.

"I can’t ditch them again," you said as your breath hitched with the contact of his body.

He was behind you now, putting his face between your shoulders. You felt his hard chest on your back. And his dick on your ass. You let out a deep sigh.

"Tell me, how can I convince you." He bit your earlobe before sliding the tip of his nose on your neck, making you shiver. "To make you come with me."

"You know I can’t," you said, holding a sigh. Tae will notice and get mad, and the last thing you need is a drunk Tae annoying you.

"We both know that's a lie."

You turned to look at him; his eyes were hypnotizing, intense, and you felt too self-conscious about how you were so close to him. When your gaze traveled down, it stopped on his lips—the ones you wanted on yours.

"You can do whatever you want, Y/N."

You bite your lips. His words made your heart race and your toes coil.

Imagining all the things you wanted to do with him.

You liked these little games with Chris. But it has been going on for so long that you yearn for more.

"If it were up to me," he said, eyes locked on yours, "I'd get you out of here. Ditch your friends and your shitty boyfriend and go to my apartment. We would make out really good, and I'd eat you out 'cause I'm dying to have a taste of you. Then, I’ll take you from behind on your hands and knees and make you forget you ever had a boyfriend."

"And then?" 

"I’ll pull you on top, and you'll ride me until I make you mine."

"Fuck Crhis." You were wet only by his words, and it was so wrong but so good.

Your eyes searched for Tae. He had an arm on a girl's shoulder and danced in front of San. He wasn't looking. You could escape, but it would be wrong; a part of you didn’t want to be a cheater, and yet you find it hard to refuse Chris.

The best part of the show just started, and Tae or any one of his friends wouldn’t get to the second floor so soon. You could invent some excuses later.

"Come with me, Y/n." His hands pulled you closer, making your ass rub his hard cock. Fuck it. 

"There's a backdoor; let’s take some air," you said, taking his hand. He smirked at you, following right behind.

The door opened to a staircase, and you felt the cold breeze of spring around you. Downstairs was an empty alley illuminated with a few neon lights on another door, probably the one from the first floor. From up there, you could see the park, the building where you live, and, not so far away, your university.

You didn't realize how hot it was inside the club. You went downstairs and leaned against the wall, letting your weight fall.

Loud conversation could be heard from the rooftops, mixed with music inside, as well as street sounds, dog barks, cars, and laughter. And there was a faint smell of cigarettes.

You took a deep breath, allowing your body to relax and feel the coolness of the wall. You open your eyes to see Chris eyeing you up and down a few feet away. He leaned his shoulder against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He has the type of stare you know very well. The type he did when he wanted all of you, and you love it.

You couldn’t help but remember the time Chris touched your hand behind the covers in your living room, making you breathe harder with a simple touch, with his eyes locked on yours as a movie filled the room; the times he would stay until the coffee shop closed talking about his time in the countryside with Hyunjin, telling stories of his childhood, and making you laugh the whole time. Or the time when you two first met, your pounding heart taking away the memory of Tae left behind and exchanging your loyal heart for freedom.

Now, feeling the intensity of his stare, you have never felt so much like yourself. Was that so wrong?

"You’re going to the next race?"

"Do you want me to?"

"You’re my lucky charm. Why wouldn’t I?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You realized you liked being his. You liked it very much.

Chris walked to you, and now that it was only you two, you could appreciate his outfit, marking all the right places. You wanted to kiss every part of him.

"What are you doing?" You said. You should consider playing dumb a hobby now. 

When it was only you two, with no eyes to judge, it was way harder to keep your hands to yourself. Sometimes you have the terrible thought of getting lost in Chris and never finding your way out of him again.

He smiled, knowing exactly what you were doing.

"Thinking about all the things I can do to you."

You feel your breath hitch, and butterflies in your stomach finally revive again. Only with him.

"And you think you can do better than him?" you said. You saw the glint of annoyance in his eyes. He was hot like that, even hotter when he was mad. You tried to keep the dirty thoughts that roamed in your head to yourself.

He got closer and closer. Your body was in need of his touch. Almost eager. You shouldn’t want him.

"I already figured you out, Y/n," he said, stopping right in front of you, his fingertips tracing your arm. His chest was almost touching yours. "I know you shiver every time I touch you. I know how you look at my body when you think I'm distracted. I know you keep my hoodies because you like how I smell, and fuck, I love how you smell of cinnamon. I know you touch yourself thinking of me. And I know," he said, his lips a breath away from yours, "that you want to kiss me right now."

Your heart twisted as you met his eyes. You wanted him so bad, but doubt lurked inside you. Would it make you such a bad person to cheat on your boyfriend? Yes. Was it worth it? You didn’t know. But you loved the feeling of Chris' hands on your body and loved, even more, the way he looked at you.

Chris' hands moved to your wrist and drew you to him. His eyes were hungry, and his lips begged to be kissed.

If you were good, you wouldn’t be here; you wouldn’t drown yourself in someone else's warm hands; you wouldn’t crave the heat of Chris’ mouth on yours. But perhaps you weren’t such a good person. Perhaps love wouldn’t blossom for you, and instead, you would need to carve it out. 

"I need to feel your lips in mine," he said, his head going to your neck. His grip was firm, but you could still distance yourself if you wanted to. You didn't. It was ridiculous that you couldn’t deny him.

"We can't. You know that," you said, but your body betrayed your words. Chris' hands went to your lower back, and he gave a deep breath, making you shiver.

Then his hands moved to your neck. He looked at you, his eyes shining in the night. Chris' tattoo was a vine of thorns; there were no flowers. And for some reason, you felt like this connected both of you in some way.

"Just for tonight, please." He knew he'd already won. "Let it be our secret, pretty."

And you almost whimper at the nickname. God, how you love when he calls you that. 

"Y/n," he said, almost desperate, as the tip of his tongue grazed your lower lip. 

A lovely, almost agonizing desire tightened your stomach and spread heat over your cheeks.

You didn't register when the kiss happened. Your hands went over his jaw, around his neck, and then your lips touched his. It was gentle but hungry. Feeling safe in his arms. And a fire raged in your heart. You need him.

He kissed you gently, shyly savoring every part of your mouth. You cupped his face, fingertips caressing his neck, then ran down to his back..

Chris groaned at the first taste—and the sound made your knees weak.

He smiled in the kiss, aware of your reaction to him. Then he leaned in and kissed the lower part of your jaw.

You let out a breathy moan, losing your mind as he found a spot at the base of your throat and ran his teeth across it. He said against your skin, "You taste divine." He kissed it again, sucking on your neck. "Better than I could ever imagine, pretty."

Chris grabbed your leg beneath the knee and held it at his waist. And when he kissed underneath your ear, making your back arch slightly and grip his arms, you said, "I need you." 

You took him in for a moment. His angular face, dark hair, piercing eyes, and lovely flushed lips. Your hands were on his chest, feeling his quick heartbeat, just like yours.

Then you were kissing again, with earnestness. 

At the first touch, your mouth opened, and his tongue rushed in, tasting you in a terrible, cruel stroke. 

You were drowning in your sins and shame. Chris’ mouth was your heaven and hell. The world stopped for both of you, and everything made sense, and all the answers of the universe were in this kiss. You leaned towards him, trying to feel his chest against yours, only to hear his breath catch once his crotch touched yours.

So you roll your hips.

You noticed his quickened breath, his chest rising and falling, and you loved how you made him feel this way.

He leaned forward and kissed you harder, finding your ass, squeezing, and making your breath hitch.

Slowly, he moved his hands up, taking your breasts and squeezing. His fingers roamed around your body as the kiss deepened, and you felt his fingertips playing with the hem of your dress. You clench your pussy in anticipation.

Your mind drifted to the heat of his lips and breath, the shifting muscles of his back as you ran your hands across his shoulders, fascinated at how strong he felt, the way your bodies molded as if meant to belong together.

He shuddered as his fingertips brushed across the dampness of your covered folds, and a spark caught hold of you. His response was enough to ignite you. So you distance yourself enough to take your underwear off, and then place it inside his pocket. You were delighted by his widened eyes. 

Your heartbeat quickened as his lips glided softly over yours.

"Please, Y/n," he begged, kissing your lips and biting them as he pulled back. "Let me taste you."

You gave up fighting against your desire. You needed him. So fucking bad.

"Yes," you said, almost whimpering as arousal grows inside you at the thought of having his mouth in your core. 

He knelt, raised your leg over his shoulder, and took your bare pussy in his mouth.

At the first slide of his tongue, you threw your head back. He caresses the length of your slit until he stops at your clit, teasing you more than anything and making your hips buck.

Then he dived in between your legs, swallowing you quickly and violently with his tongue.

He sucked your clit into his mouth and released it, repeatedly stroking his tongue over the delicate skin. You gripped his hair, arching your back as he nibbled, sucked, and licked in circles, claiming you in every single motion.

You closed your eyes and covered your mouth with your hand, attempting not to scream any further. Yet moans still escaped.

"Fuck, pretty," he said against your skin as he flicked your clit with his tongue. "You're just right for me." You moaned, breathless and aroused by the view of him. On his knees for you, begging, wanting, needing you. And you wanted him in the same way.

He pressed his mouth harder against your pussy, and stared into your eyes, hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. He really had all of you figured out, licking softly and flicking harder at the right pace, causing tears to well up in your eyes.

Soon, your hips rolled against his tongue, and the groan he let out trembled your entire body, shaking your core and leaving you breathless. The pleasure was so overwhelming that his name fell from your mouth.

"I'm the one you think about when he fucks you, hm?" he said, slipping a finger inside you as he circled your clit faster and harder with his mouth.

"Yes," you moaned, an ache rising deep in your center.

"You want me?" he asked, and nibbled your clit through his teeth as his fingers drove in and out.

"So fucking much!"

You opened your eyes, staring at the night sky as he ate you out. Mind spinning as your orgasm rose.

"Come pretty." He slid faster, now with two fingers inside of you, making out with your pussy deep and hard, circling his tongue in your clit. "Only for me."

You brushed your hands through Chris' hair, grazing his scalp as you gripped his strands tightly in your hands.

It was too much. You can’t hold it anymore.

"Fuck. Fuck, just like that—" You gasped, clenching every muscle in your body as the pleasure flourished deep in you.

And you moaned his name over and over.

You tried to catch your breath; the aftershocks rattled your chest, your clit throbbed, and the flames of euphoria spread and slowly dissipated as Chris’ mouth slowed, still taking every drop of your cum.

He kissed your clit softly and looked up at you with a mischievous curve on his lips.

Then he stood and kissed you deep and slow, sliding his tongue lazily on yours as if he had all the time in the world, and you felt tears prick your eyes. You were so fucked.

After three lost messages and one missed call, you stopped kissing Chris.

He stared at you so intensely that you thought you saw hurt in his eyes.

"What is it?" You said. Your voice so gentle that it surprised you.

"Just wondering when you’ll learn you should leave him," he said. The tip of his nose brushing yours.

"For who? You?" You said, trying to see a hint of where this was going.

"Yourself," he said in an almost painful way, with his brows frowning. The weight of a single word took hold of you. Chris knew you too well from the little time you spent together. You wonder, why? Why did you meet someone like him? His eyes were searching for something in yours. And you didn’t know if you could give him. You were too comfortable being a coward to change. Even if you crave it. What a mess.

You put your hands between you two, and you let out a quiet, "I need to go." His hand held you firmly in place. His lips linger in yours, brushing in a way that makes you want to start the night all over again. Have him all over again. 

"Don’t go back to him. He is not worth it."

Your heart tightens. You were well aware of it. But was what you and Chris had going on worth it? What if the same thing happens to Chris as it did to you and Tae?

"Please, Y/n."

Your thoughts were racing faster than your heart, making it difficult to concentrate. You must make a decision. A quick one. One that you wouldn’t regret. So you kiss him before saying goodbye and head to the backdoor on the first floor. 

The restroom was full, but you could make it to the sink and put some water on your neck to cool down. You looked at yourself in the mirror and could see your eyes shining, and every time you closed them, Chris would come to you. You could still feel his hands on your body and his tongue in your clit. You couldn't believe what you just did.

You tried to smooth your hair the best way possible, but it made little difference.

You replied to Lily's messages. explaining that you went to take some air, drink, and pass through the restroom. These excuses could cover you up. 

The second floor was way more packed than when you left, and you had to squeeze your way through it. You walked past the bar and the opening area. The whisper of a gentle breeze came from there, prickling your neck in a way that made you want more. It gave you the faintest relief in the midst of the heat around you.

You meet Tae seated on the couch, sweaty, with his friends, another drink in his hand. You could feel the boredom and the cages from the days to come closing around you as you rested by his side.

He didn't even notice your messy hair or your faded lipstick. 

There was water and an ice bucket on the table, so you poured it into a cup and sighed when it chilled your body.

Your gaze wandered across the room looking for your purse, but when you located it, another image in the corner of the couch made you stop. You had no idea why the scene caught your attention. San sat alone, crunching up ice cubes, staring at Lily flirting with some girl. The blonde girl that Tae was flirting with before.

San didn't even try to hide the jealousy and sadness on his face as if he were trapped in his feelings for her and couldn't find a way out. Was this how you looked outside? Sad and trapped in a failed relationship?

You found your purse behind Tae, and when you went to get it, he extended his arms behind you. He was totally captured by the talk with the guys, so your hand sneaked in his back and pulled from behind him. He jerked a little, and looked back at you with a slight frown and a twist in the corner of his mouth before going back to his conversation. 

What face would he make if he found out what you did with Chris?

You wanted to be regretful, but only dizziness came to you. A smile formed in your mouth, still tingling from Chris's kiss.

Flowers blossom in the spring. Could they bloom in the winter as well? Could you start something new when you weren't beginning in the right place? Could love grow after chaos and betrayal? You don't have the answer, and you knew what you’d have to do if you wanted to find out.

Shivers ran down your spine, and the adrenaline still running in your system kicked even higher.

You were doing this. You close your hand in your purse and bring Tae’s face to look at yours.

"I’m breaking up with you," you said. And as you said those words, you felt like you had taken your first deep breath in months. You saw the confusion in Tae's face in slow motion—his frown and the rage in his eyes, then his mouth open.

It was satisfying, in a twisted way.

You stood up from your seat without giving him a chance to speak. You would be pretty mad if someone broke up with you in front of all your friends too, but right now you couldn’t care less. Enough is enough.

A weight had been lifted from your body, and each stride you took seemed lighter like you could almost fly.

You quickly texted Chris on your way to the backdoor. Done. Let’s get out of here. And hurried to the backdoor again. Is this how you were supposed to feel after ending a relationship? In the movies, you watched the characters cry, but all you wanted to do was laugh.

You were ready for a new beginning, even if you didn’t know what it would bring.

Outside, the fresh wind roamed around your body and cooled you down. From the stairs, you saw him at the end of the alley. A mischievous and playful smile.

How could you feel anything other than euphoria when Chris was there, with his dimple smile, waiting for you. 

As if out of a romance novel scene, flowers dropped from a nearby tree in the background, and time had stopped for both of you. You run to Chris, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him hard. He draws you to him, sliding his tongue on yours, and you still linger in his taste.

"Does this lady need a ride?" he said, brushing his lips against yours. You smirk at him.

You got on the back of his motorcycle; your heart was already pounding. You pulled your arms around him. It felt right.

"Where to go?" You asked, not being able to hide your smile.

"Do you like flowers? The park is pretty this time of the year."

I like everything, everywhere with you, is what you thought.

A dangerous thought. For now. 

"Actually, I prefer ice cream."

He laughed as he started the engine. "I know a cool place."

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Author's note: Hi! Okay, so, this was quite challenging to write, (the dialogue was the hardest part jdlsjsksksj) but anyway…

I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.

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