#let them kiss while committing war crimes

[grimeonadime]

So happy that Butcher finally decided to get back together with his imaginary dead boyfriend in the finale

[writtenwhalien]

jump then fall (into you) | part 2

banner by the talented @jimilter​ 💖

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut

word count ↠ 52k (pt 2. 14k)

18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., protected sex etc.

summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

note. i hope you're enjoying! ☺️ don't forget to interact please + here's a few songs that inspired me and this story (more at the end too!): photograph — ed sheeran i think i fell in love today — kelsea bellerini where are you now — lost frequencies & calum scott 3:15 (breathe) — russ words — alesso & zara larsson jump then fall — taylor swift

part 2

🍉 note. while I have your attention, I would like to divert it to those in palestine as israel commits war crimes against them. Innocent men, women and children are being tortured, degraded, displaced and murdered endlessly — it is a genocide and we are all complicit if we do nothing.

as a minimum, please donate to legitimate organisations + boycott the big 3 — starbucks, disney and mcdonald’s — as well as others. feel free to message me for more information and/or donation links, thank you <3 🇵🇸

You know what he wants you to say, but as you feel his fingers around yo, all you can think of is how wrong they feel — they’re not as long as the ones you’re most familiar with, not as calloused on the palms  or soft from the back. Every moment with Jungkook from the past few weeks buzzes through your mind and it all starts to make sense – you’ve always known Jungkook makes you happy but you never thought about why…

Looking up at Lawrence, you nod slowly. “Yes,” you say, softening the words in the hopes it softens the blow.

It’s a quiet confession, not only because you’re pretending to date Jungkook, but because now you’re no longer sure if your heart is open to anyone else besides him.

Lawrence smiles, releasing a small breath he’d been holding. “I had to ask,” he chuckles.

You’re sure his cheeks are turning pink but with the dim lighting, you can’t be sure. 

Lips pursing, you nod.

There’s another moment of hesitation from him, then he kisses your cheek once before stepping back. 

“I’m glad I asked though, I’d probably regret it forever if I didn’t,” he adds, eyes gleaming as they look over your face. 

You manage to smile despite feeling bad and a little awkward now — it’s not every day someone confesses to your face like this. “It’s okay, I get it.” 

Just while your mind races to find an excuse to leave now, Lawrence’s gaze shifts to behind your shoulder and his eyes suddenly widen, face going somewhat pale. You turn around, eyes following his line of sight and when you see who’s standing there, you’re sure your expression mirrors Lawrence’s. 

Jungkook and Alias stand more than a few feet away by the staircase towards the upper decks, but it’s not hard to see their expressions from here. 

Alias purses his lips and looks at Jungkook before he shifts his weight awkwardly. But it’s Jungkook you’re focused on. His expression is blank and he just stares at Lawrence and you.

How long has he been standing there? Why isn’t he doing anything? And why do you only now realise how close you and Lawrence are still standing while holding hands too? 

You let go, stepping back abruptly too but you know it doesn’t make a difference. 

Jungkook's lips curl into a curt yet polite smile before he turns and disappears around the corner. 

What the hell is happening? 

Jungkook and you aren’t even dating for real for this to be a problem so why on earth does it feel like you’ve actually done something so wrong?

The guilty feeling in your chest grows as you stand still, still looking upon where he was.

“I’m so sorry,” Lawrence apologises immediately. “I can go talk to him, it was all my fault.”

“No it’s fine,” you shake your head, managing a smile. “I should talk to him, don’t worry.” 

He nods and you walk away before he can say anything else.

“Walk with me?” you say as you approach Alias. 

He nods, falling into stride beside you. “What was that about?” he asks, nodding back in the direction of Lawrence.

“Um, he told me he likes me, or at least did,” you wince. 

“Ah, that explains it.”

You shoot him a look. “That explains what?”

Alias hesitates. “Well, he looked like he was about to kiss you.”

Oh gosh. “But he wasn’t!” you exclaim in a hushed whisper. “I wouldn’t do that!” 

“I know!” Alias exclaims too, “But it still didn’t look good. I’m assuming that’s why Jungkook just left.”

“You think he’s upset by it?”

“Well what else could it be?”

Sighing, you slow down. 

Alias looks at you confused. “What’s wrong?”

“What am I doing?” you ask rhetorically, thinking out loud.

Raising his brows, Alias points down the corridor. “Finding your boyfriend to explain what’s happening?” he says almost sarcastically. 

“But that’s just it, he’s not actually my boyfriend so why did he walk off? And why do I feel bad about it?” You feel like you sound a bit helpless but at this moment you don’t actually care, at least not with Alias. 

It’s confusing — first you find yourself having all these weird moments with Jungkook, then Lawrence tells you he likes you only for you to realise that maybe you actually do like Jungkook, and now Jungkook walking off like this…

Could he actually be upset by this?

Alias’s expression softens and he places his hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “I think you know why.”

You frown, lips pouting. “What are you trying to say?”

He chuckles, pulling you in for a hug. “I’m not saying anything. You’re figuring this out on your own.” He pulls back and takes your arm in his as he walks slowly down the corridor again. “Now, what are you going to say to Jungkook?”

His question is met with silence, but he doesn’t push any further as you take the time to think. 

You’re well aware of what Alias is trying to say to you but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to acknowledge it — more like you don’t know how to acknowledge it. 

Maybe you do like him? Or maybe you’re just confused? It could definitely just be lust, or even just loneliness as it has been a long time since you’ve last been with anyone. Or maybe all the pretending has gotten to your head? — that’s definitely a plausible reason for the way you’re feeling. 

Although, it really doesn’t feel like it. There’s a reason pretending to date Jungkook comes so easily to you. Being with him is natural to you because you’ve always felt like you belong together; now you realise you’ve been feeling that romantically not just platonically. Having been so close to him for so many years has created a safety blanket around you, one that you can’t imagine living without and most definitely can’t ever replace. Even the thought of coming on this trip without him felt so wrong. There must be a reason why it doesn’t feel surprising to you that at some point, your feelings crossed the line from friends to something more.

“I don’t know,” you groan quietly. “This is so weird, what does someone say in this situation?”

Alias actually takes a moment to consider this. “Actually,” he starts, pulling on your arm to stop walking. “You need to be sure of how you feel before you say anything.”

He’s right.

“Take some time,” Alias says. “Maybe just address what happened with Lawrence for now?”

You nod. “Okay, I’ll just tell him what happened.”

“Yeah, do that,” Alias nods too. He looks down the corridor but makes no move to walk any further with you. 

Your cabin is only a few doors away so you hug him goodbye, and after he wishes you good luck, you make your way towards it.

Clearing your mind, you focus on the simple goal for now. Just let Jungkook know that there’s nothing between Lawrence and you — what he saw isn’t what it looked like. 

Tapping into your room, you feel your heart race a little faster as your nerves rise. Jungkook isn’t anywhere in the cabin but you can hear water running in the bathroom. 

Taking a deep breath, you mentally scold yourself to get it together. Some of your clothes from earlier in the day are still scattered on the bed so you decide to at least clear these away while you wait. 

It isn’t long until you hear the lock clicking and Jungkook walks out of the bathroom. 

You look up to see him patting his face dry with a towel. He’s already dressed for bed and you note that he’s wearing a top this time. 

When he sees you, his face shows no surprise or even much emotion at all. He simply nods and averts his gaze almost immediately. “Hey,” he says, tossing the towel into the laundry basket. 

“Hey,” you respond quietly while keeping your eyes on him. 

He walks over to the bed and starts picking up some of his own mess. If the situation were any different, you wouldn’t really think anything was wrong by the way Jungkook is acting. But you know Jungkook. 

For starters, he never folds his clothes neatly before putting them away. He usually just roughly puts them together and hides them away somewhere, yet here he is, laying out a shirt and folding the sleeves with much focus.

“Um, Jungkook…?”

He looks up immediately. “Yeah?” There’s no irritation or anger or anything else in his expression. Just the usual concern you’re used to seeing on his face whenever you call him. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, feeling stupid as soon as you ask it. 

“Yeah, of course,” he answers, shrugging as he resumes folding his clothes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” 

“Good.”

Turning away to put your clothes in the drawer, you frown to yourself. You know he knows why you’re asking — him walking off like that wasn’t normal and now him acting like nothing’s happened…

“So,” he says, clearing his throat. “You and Lawrence…”

There it is. You turn to face him again. He’s still looking down as he folds his clothes but you don’t need to see his face to know he’s not looking forward to the answer. 

“You like each other?” His voice is steady but you can hear the quiet reservations that come with it. 

“No,” you answer immediately. 

He pauses for a second and you expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. He only nods and carries on putting his clothes away. 

You tell him everything. “We bumped into each other during the game because I was kind of confused about where to go after me and you split up. We just started talking and it came up that I used to have a crush on him way back in high school, and as we spoke…” you watch Jungkook carefully, still unable to see his face as he stays looking down, “… he just ended up telling me how he used to have a crush on me when we were growing up and it apparently never really went away.” 

It’s now that Jungkook finally looks up. He has a small smile on his face — not a smirk, not anything to show you it’s anything other than a genuine smile despite it not being his usual smile that meets his eyes.

“So Lawrence likes you then.” He says it more surely, as though he’s just reaffirming a fact rather than asking a question. 

You hesitate. “Well, yes, he does but he knows I don’t like him.”

As his smile fades a little, Jungkook raises a brow. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you say, feeling something heavy begin to weigh down your chest. 

Jungkook considers this. His gaze is steady as he looks at you from across the room, looking for any clue that might suggest otherwise to him. 

The longer he stares, the more you feel the weight on your chest. You don’t like this — you don’t like that Jungkook could even think for a minute that you like anyone else. Since high school, you haven’t had any real feelings for anyone and as Lawrence made you realise, it’s all because of Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” your voice comes out coarse and quiet. 

He looks away, jaw shifting as he now chooses to roughly fold his clothes together. Then — 

“I think we should stop the whole dating thing, it was my fault so I’ll tell whoever I need to tomorrow.” He says it clearly and decisively. “I don’t wanna hold you back, you should give Lawrence a chance.”

With a scoff, your brows knit together and you frown at him. “I just told you, I don’t like him.” 

“He was your high school crush for years, you’ve always wanted this.”

He says it so nonchalantly now and it makes you angry because you know just moments ago he was upset because of this. Sure, he didn’t say anything, but Jungkook is your best friend and you know him more than anyone else. 

“Well not anymore!” you blurt. “Why don’t you believe me?”

Jungkook looks at you and immediately you can recognise the small signs of him feeling hurt but he does well to disguise it as best as he can. “I saw how you looked at him that night, Y/N. It was pretty clear how smitten you were, anyone could see it.”

Immediately, you’re confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“Cartagena,” he responds, almost despondent. “You came out of the venue together and it was clear from your face that you were over the moon to have him there.”

Now you remember… and devastatingly enough, you realise Jungkook isn’t wrong. You remember how you felt when you initially bumped into him — it was a childish kind of excitement when seeing your crush but that’s all it was. Seeing him just brought back memories and that small part of you came out because it had been so long but since then you know there’s been nothing. 

Jungkook, however, wouldn’t know that. You realise that you must’ve looked how he’s describing and gosh, you can’t even imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed. 

Before you can ever try to find the words to explain how you feel, a knock sounds at the door. 

Jungkook is the one who answers it since you’re still too caught up in your thoughts. 

You even remember how you’d stupidly been flirting with him right in front of Jungkook, you pretty much called him ‘tall, handsome and mysterious’ when you were supposed to be “dating” Jungkook– 

“Lawrence.”

You turn immediately at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. Sure enough, Lawrence is standing there in the doorway looking exactly as he was when you left him. 

“Uh, hey,” he says, nodding awkwardly as he glances between Jungkook and you. 

You just stare at him blankly. This really doesn’t help you right now. 

“Hey,” Jungkook says with a smile, resorting to his usual politeness. “What’s up?”

Lawrence hesitates, still glancing between you both. “Sorry, I was thinking about whether or not I should come but I figured the sooner the better… uh…” he looks down, clearly feeling bad. “I just had to apologise, I told Y/N about how I felt and that was inappropriate and stupid of me when she’s with y—“

“We’re not together.”

Lawrence looks up and at the same time, your eyes snap to Jungkook. 

If you thought him saying that was harsh, the blank way in which he says it hurts even more. 

“We never were,” Jungkook says. “Y/N just agreed to help me out by pretending to be my girlfriend because my ex is on this trip.” 

Lawrence’s face changes from confusion to surprise to realisation within a few seconds. But you’re not looking at him. 

Your focus is solely on Jungkook. You can’t clearly describe what emotions you’re feeling. There’s a bit of everything — it hurts, that’s for sure, but you’re also angry at him for so rashly telling Lawrence and you can’t help but feel betrayed. 

Pretending to date Jungkook has been nothing but easy for you and these past few days have taught you it’s because there’s probably a huge part of you that wants this. For Jungkook to just end it so suddenly makes you feel like he doesn’t want you the same way you want him. 

You wonder if it’s naive to think he wants you back, but you do. Alex has told you countless times, heck all the Cirillo siblings have made a remark or something about Jungkook and you at least once every time you’ve met. Even Lawrence has seen it apparently. Though, none of this necessarily means it’s true. 

With the silence in the room, Jungkook looks at you. He holds little emotion in his face but the way his lips are pursed tightly tells you he’s holding back something. 

“Uh,” Lawrence glances between you both, “I’m gonna go. Sorry again for everything,” he adds in a mutter. He closes the door as he leaves and you’re left alone with Jungkook. 

“Why would you do that?” you ask as soon as the door clicks. 

“Because he likes you. I’m not gonna stand in the way of that.”

Your expression falters. Fuck, it’s been a long time since you last wanted to cry but you’ll be damned if you let him see you. Steeling yourself, your jaw clenches.

Despite your best efforts, of course, Jungkook still notices. His own steely expression softens and he almost says something but then stops. For a second, you think he might apologise and even tell you something you want to hear. But he doesn’t. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Jungkook asks softly.

There’s a hundred other things he could do but he chose this — even after you’ve told him how you feel about Lawrence. 

“Fine,” you flare. “Tell everyone.” Without another glance at him, you walk past him to the bathroom and slam the door shut. 

It’s only after a quick shower and some much needed TLC, that you come out of the bathroom. 

Truthfully, you didn’t expect Jungkook to still be in the cabin, but it doesn’t make the feeling in your chest go away when you see he’s not there. 

There’s so many questions going round and round in your head that it hurts. You trudge across the room, slipping into the bed and finding solace with the comfort of your silk sheets that still smell of Jungkook. 

Everything Alex said to you at the start of this trip keeps replaying in your mind — you want it to be true, and sure most of the time it feels true too. But with the way this past hour has gone, you can’t help but doubt it. 

If Jungkook really liked you, he wouldn’t have told Lawrence the truth, would he? It doesn’t make sense, why would he? He should’ve wanted to have kept it up the same way you do. Pretending to date Jungkook is as close as you’re getting to the real thing and that’s something that you’re sure that you want. 

Now though, you don’t even have that. 

It’s not exactly something you can blame Jungkook for. There was no reason for him to keep it up, especially if you haven’t told him why you want to. 

Maybe you should tell him now though?

No. That’s too scary. Sure, you want him to know, but the idea of him not feeling the same way is way worse than anything else. Plus, what if he starts to feel uncomfortable around you, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if he felt that way. 

Releasing a heavy sigh, you sink further into the bed and close your eyes. 

You shouldn’t say or do anything else until things go back to normal. That’s the best thing to do. 

With your mind made up, you try to fall asleep but it proves to be more difficult than normal. With every minute that passes, you wonder where Jungkook is and what he’s doing. It’s only been 15 minutes but you’re already deciding whether or not you should message him. 

It’s always been like this with Jungkook — your arguments never usually last longer than a day and most times you settle them straight away. 

This feels different. 

The sound of the door clicking open simultaneously relaxes you and raises your heart rate. 

As Jungkook makes his way across the room, your heart decides to do all kinds of acrobatics. Inwardly, you curse at yourself for not realising your feelings sooner. 

You can hear the sound of his shirt being pulled off as he changes into his pyjamas. A moment later, he’s carefully moving the covers back on his side of the bed as he gets in slowly so as not to wake you. 

Moments pass in silence and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but then…

“Y/N?” His voice is barely above a whisper and just like that, your heart jumps again. 

Instead of responding, you turn around to lie on your back. As you lower your hands to your side, you accidentally brush his hand. Reflexively, you move your hand to rest on your stomach instead. 

Noticing this, Jungkook turns to look at you. You’re sure he can’t see you very well in the dark but with the white of the ship’s exterior safety lights coming in from the gaps in the shutters, it’s still easy to see fairly well. 

For a brief moment, he doesn’t say anything and you don’t turn to look at him. Then, he looks back up at the ceiling too. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding deflated.

It hurts you to know he’s feeling bad about something that isn’t even his fault. If it wasn’t for the way you’re feeling, you wouldn’t care about him telling Lawrence and you wouldn’t have argued with him for him to be apologising now.

“It’s okay,” you respond quietly, finding it too hard to find the words to say anything else.

“No, it’s not,” Jungkook sighs. “I shouldn’t have done that without asking you, especially since I made you do it in the first place. This whole thing was stupid, I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” you mumble as his last words play over in your head – this whole thing was stupid. “It was Alex.” Does he really think it was stupid? It never felt stupid to you, it just felt right. 

“Yeah, but it’s because of me it happened and I could've stopped it.”

“I didn’t mind…” 

You feel lame saying it because the real reason you didn’t mind is because it was the closest you’d get to dating Jungkook, but you say it because you don’t want him to feel bad about any of it.

“I know,” he says softly in understanding. “I think it’s just best to tell everyone it wasn’t real.”

You haven’t experienced anything like this before – there’s a heavy feeling in your chest trying to fight its way out. It’s causing the lump in your throat and you can’t tell if you want to cry or just tell him the truth right here, right now. 

But you don’t. “Okay,” is all you say.

He must hear something in your voice – he’s attuned to every frequency of yours and the emotion that comes with it, just as you are with him. You know how sad you sounded just then and undoubtedly he’s picked up on it.

He looks at you, trying to analyse your features in the dark. Then, his hand moves and you feel his palm closing around yours, pulling your hand between your bodies to rest on the bed with your fingers intertwined. “Again, I’m sorry.”

You’re looking at him too now. Have his hands always felt this warm? Have they always fit into your own so perfectly? 

“I know, it’s okay,” you answer, still fighting that feeling in your chest.

His brows knit together. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Gently, he squeezes your hand and his features relax.

That feeling in your throat pushes harder and you realise you want to tell him. Maybe it’s because it’s dark right now it seems easier to let the truth out, almost as though it’ll stay a secret in the dark. 

“Also,” he says, voice suddenly softer, “for what it’s worth, I think Lawrence is an amazing guy.”

All other thoughts come to a halt in your mind and you swallow hard. “Why are you saying that?” 

Jungkook looks back up at the ceiling and when he talks, it’s a little quieter than before. “Just, I know how you used to feel about him and if he feels this way about you now, well, it could be good for you,” he adds with a shrug. 

You’re unable to mask the frustration in your voice.  “I already told you,” you say, “I’m not  interested in him.”

Jungkook looks at you again with his brows furrowed in concern. “I know…” he hesitates with a sigh, “I just…” 

“Forget it,” you mutter, pulling your hand free from his. “I’m going to sleep.” 

Jungkook says nothing as you roll over with your back to him, and you say nothing else either. 

The feeling in your chest has subsided but it’s been replaced with another feeling, more like an ache which you’re determined to sleep away. 

It feels almost impossible as your thoughts stream endlessly through your mind, each and every one about Jungkook and the words that you’ve left unsaid. But somehow, at some point, the thoughts slip away as the weariness of the day takes over and you finally fall asleep. 

It’s hot. 

Jungkook pushes you hard against the wall, his thigh parting your legs as he grabs your waist tight. His breaths are heavy as his nose skims your neck, teasing you before he settles in the sweet spot behind your ear. 

You’re just about managing to hold yourself up though if it weren’t for his grip on you, you’re sure your knees would give way. 

There’s barely any material separating you from his thigh and you’re desperate for some friction down there. With your arms around his neck, you rock yourself against him to find some much needed relief. 

You’re moaning and Jungkook chuckles, a sweet deep sound that makes you want more, and he gives it to you as his hand slips between your legs.

Gosh it’s hot.

It is hot. 

That’s the first thing that your barely conscious mind picks up on. 

It’s the middle of summer–you don’t know why you can feel the weight of the blanket on you. You dimly remember getting under it when you got into bed but normally you always stick a leg out or something before going to sleep. 

You try to move your leg now to push it past the covers and out into the cool air, but it doesn’t budge. 

Something is in the way. 

Still half asleep, you try again as you think it’s just the covers tucked under your leg — only now you realise that’s not the cover, it’s another leg and it’s not yours…

You didn’t realise something was missing when you were falling asleep a few hours ago. Why would you? You were completely preoccupied with other things to have remembered it. 

It’s now that you come to your senses and realise what’s happened — you forgot the pillow. 

You forgot the pillow as a physical boundary between Jungkook and you, and now the exact thing you wanted to avoid is happening. 

Jungkook’s warmth surrounds you from everywhere. His breath is gentle and quiet by your neck, his chest close to your back and his legs are somehow tangled with yours. His arm is draped over your frame, hand resting comfortably by your stomach. 

What’s most obvious to you though, is your ass tucked comfortably against him, no doubt right against his crotch. 

Fuck. This is simultaneously a dream and a nightmare. It feels so good to be this close but you know it’s so wrong, especially after the actual dream you just had which given your situation now, explains why you’re still feeling so needy down south. 

You try to shift slightly again but it doesn’t work — Jungkook sighs softly in his sleep, leg moving to rest on top of yours. 

Great. Now you’re actually stuck like this. 

Eyes closing, you try to think of what to do but as you run it through your mind, you come to the conclusion to stay exactly as you are. 

How bad can it be? With the sun shining through the cracks in the blind, you can tell it’s probably 10 am so all you have to do is pretend to fall asleep again, Jungkook will wake up very soon, he’ll realise and then he’ll just move away. Then it’ll be as though nothing ever happened. 

Besides, it really does feel so good to have him holding you like this. Sure, Jungkook hugs you a lot and in general is pretty affectionate with you but this. Having him softly breathing down your neck as he sleeps comfortably with you in his arms — it’s a feeling that satisfies something you never knew you needed. 

The only problem is it’s more than a little difficult to fall asleep when you can feel the hard outline of his little friend down there. Fuck, life is really testing you right now and it really doesn’t help that your pyjama bottoms are silk so you can feel a lot more of him than expected. 

Groaning internally, you try to scoot away once more but it doesn’t work. Not only that, you actually didn’t just groan internally but out loud. You almost clap your hand over your mouth when you feel Jungkook shift behind you once before going still again. 

Except this time, you can’t feel his warm breath on you for a second… then it comes back, but this time it’s different. You’ve spent enough of your lifetime with Jungkook to know that he breathes heavily when he sleeps and right now, he’s no longer asleep. 

You’re not quite sure what comes over you, maybe it’s the heat getting to your head, or maybe you’re emboldened by the fact that Jungkook is awake and he hasn’t moved away from you… ever so slightly, you push your hips back against Jungkook’s crotch. 

A sharp intake of breath from behind you confirms exactly what you wanted to know. 

You do it again and this time, Jungkook reciprocates in kind. You can feel him even better now and the hard outline of his dick pushing against you makes you let out the softest whine, barely audible but with Jungkook so close to you, there’s no doubt he heard you. 

Fuck. You feel almost dizzy and you’re certain that you’re not thinking clearly right now – this is Jungkook, your best friend… you try to remind yourself of that as you wait for him to do something more, but the only thing that repeats in your head is this is Jungkook. Jungkook, the man you love and adore so much and right now you can only think enough to know that whatever is happening right now, you want it. 

With bated breath, you wait for what feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds, then Jungkook’s hand slides from across your stomach to hold your hip.

“Y/N?” 

His sleepy voice so close sends a swirl of excitement through you. 

“Yes?” you answer in a breathy murmur.

“I…,” he whispers, barely audible. His hand slides up your side, stopping below your breast. 

You can tell he’s hesitating to move further so without hesitation, you roll your hips against him which elicits small moans of pleasure from both of you and in response, Jungkook’s hand begins to move again and you’re anticipating the feeling of his strong hands grabbing on to you where you want them so bad–

Knock knock knock knock knock. “Sleepy heads, what time do you call this?!”

– Only to be interrupted by the one and only Alias. 

Immediately, Jungkook withdraws and moves faster than you can even process. He’s out of bed and throwing on the closest hoodie just as you turn around, still catching on from whatever the hell just happened. Despite the dark lighting in the room, you can tell he’s flustered from the look on his face but goddamn he looks so cute with his messed hair and you could not be more annoyed about being interrupted right now. 

He pauses, turning towards you and just as your eyes meet, there’s the loud knocking again followed by Alias yelling whatever it is he’s saying. 

You’re more focused on how Jungkook is looking at you to comprehend anything else. In this split second, he looks like he has a thousand things to say but not a single thing comes out of his mouth except…

“I’m sorry.” He says it so fast that in the seconds it takes you to realise what he just said, he’s already at the door letting Alias in. 

“You’re not even dressed,” Alias says the second the door opens and he sees Jungkook. “And you’re not even up,” he says as he sees you. Shaking his head, he walks over to the blinds, completely unaware of the tension that is still heavy in the room between Jungkook and you. 

You glance at Jungkook again to see him looking at the floor but it’s as though he can sense your eyes on him because he looks up and your eyes meet for the second time. You’re sure your expression must mirror his – flustered, somewhat guilty, but mostly just confused. 

You know why you’re confused – in the last few days you’ve come to the realisation that your feelings for your best friend are more than just platonic and this happening makes you wonder what the hell Jungkook is thinking… is he feeling the same way as you? God, you can only hope… Or is he repulsed by what he’s just done and is completely regretting it now?

“Honestly, Y/N, I’m actually surprised that I’m up before you,” Alias continues as he rolls up the blinds. “You’re usually the responsible one. And Jungkook, you know we were supposed to meet at nine, it’s almost 11 now and we’ll be arriving tomorrow morning and we were supposed to meet with Alex this morning to go through the plans for the weekend, did you forget—?“ Alias pauses mid sentence, turning to look at you with a frown. 

For a second, you think he’s caught on to everything, but thankfully, it’s not that. 

“Why do I sound like my parents?” He shudders, looking at Jungkook too. “I must be getting old.”

Both Jungkook and you laugh, albeit awkwardly. This, however, doesn’t go unnoticed by Alias. His frown changes to something more curious as he looks between you. 

You expect him to say something about it but he doesn’t. 

“Well, Jungkook, he’s still waiting to speak with you, he’s already briefed the other guys.”

“Right,” Jungkook nods, now avoiding your gaze as he grabs his clothes. “I’ll just get ready, I won’t be long.”

“Cool,” Alias says, taking a seat in the armchair by the window. “I’ll wait for you then.”

As soon as Jungkook has disappeared into the bathroom, Alias turns to you. “Did you tell him?” he asks immediately.

Still slightly befuddled, you frown. “Huh?”

“Last night, you said you weren’t gonna say anything about how you feel but why are you both acting so different?”

“Oh.” All of last night comes back to you in an instant. Lawrence confessing, your conversation with Alias and everything else that happened with Jungkook after. “No, I didn’t,” you pause, brows knitting even further together before you look at Alias. “But I think he might know anyway.”

Alias’s brows shoot upwards. “What makes you think that?”

Because he was just feeling me up in bed and if you hadn’t walked in it seemed like it would have gone further. Well, you absolutely can’t say that. 

“I don’t know.” 

Frowning, Alias moves to sit at the end of the bed. “Are you okay?” He reaches forward and puts a hand on your knee.

“Yeah,” you nood, smiling as you take his hand to reassure him. You’re sure you must look like a bit of a mess, not only have you just gotten up but your mind and pulse is racing from what just happened with Jungkook – whatever it was. “Could you just give us a minute though?” 

“Sure,” Alias answers, getting up right away. “Just text me if you need anything,” he says. “I’ll be waiting on the deck for you guys.” He stops by the door, turning around. “But Alex is still waiting for Jungkook too.”

“We won’t be long,” you reassure him with a smile.

He nods once more before leaving the room. 

You’re left with only the noise of your thoughts and the shower running in the bathroom. You can feel your pulse racing as you push the covers back and get out of bed. It still feels so hot in here so you find the AC controller and blast the cool air to help calm yourself down as you try to process what just happened.

What did just happen? Were you and Jungkook really about to do something? Just thinking of it sends butterflies swirling down south but they’re quickly sent off track when you ask yourself what on earth it means?

You know why you were okay with it all happening… if you didn’t have feelings for him, you would never have let it happen, but you do, so you didn’t stop it. Is it the same for Jungkook? The idea of Jungkook liking you is far from foreign – Alex has always been trying to tell you but you just never believed it… this, however, has you in two minds. 

Or, there’s also the other more plausible reason. Jungkook woke up and realised his hard dick was enjoying the fact that there was another warm female body in such close vicinity to him so naturally, he made his move and you didn’t object so he went along with it. You’ve had your own small share of experiences with friends who you ended up doing more with without any feelings involved and so has Jungkook, maybe he just thought that’s what this was…  God, even just the thought of that hurts. 

The bathroom door clicks open and your head snaps up.

Jungkook walks out still scruffing his hair dry with a towel. He’s dressed casually for the day but he still looks as good as ever to you. He pauses after a few steps when he sees Alias has gone and slowly, he lowers the towel and looks at you. 

You feel small because you’re so unsure of where you stand with him right now. Pressing your palms with your fingers, you try to relax and think clearly but it’s hard when your heart is pounding in your chest and wants nothing more than for him to confess he has the same feelings as you do.

Still, as you look at Jungkook, it seems like he feels small too. His fingers are squeezing the towel as he switches it between his hands and he hesitates, starting to say something before he stops. 

You so badly want to say something, anything, but you have no idea what. How do you start? Can we talk about what just happened? Did you like it? Do you like me? Because I like you, a lot. Gosh, if only it was that damn easy. 

“Um,” Jungkook starts but looks away from you. “I’m sorry about what happened…” He loosely points to the bed.

Startled, you just stand there for a moment. He’s sorry?… “You’re sorry?” you repeat.

“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

“So, you weren’t thinking about what you were doing…?” you echo, starting to feel like a stupid parrot. He regrets it, of course he does.

Jungkook blinks, somewhat confused but you don’t blame him. You’re asking for clarification for selfish reasons – you need to know if he thinks what just happened was a mistake because it was far from a mistake for you. 

“No…” Jungkook hesitates, his face rounding as he looks at you. You’re sure he can tell you’re upset by what he’s saying. “Were you?” he asks.

“No.” It’s not a lie – you really weren’t thinking about what was happening, just that you enjoyed it. 

As soon as you say it, you’re sure you see Jungkook deflate. Did he want me to say yes? No, that doesn’t make sense, he said no first. 

“Right, yeah.” He clears his throat as he fiddles with the towel again. “I’m sorry it happened, I wouldn’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable.” He says it with such sincerity that your chest tightens.

“I didn’t feel uncomfortable.” The words come out before you can even stop them but you want him to know that, you’d hate for him to feel bad about something like this when it’s far from his fault that you let it happen just because you like him and wanted it to be something more.

Jungkook’s expression is the same as before, eyes rounding and there’s that barely-there pout to his lips as he asks, “You didn’t?” 

“No, I didn’t.” Shit, what are you saying, Y/N? You can hear the blood rushing through your ears and you start to feel sick. “But… it wasn’t supposed to happen?” You mean for it to come out as a question but you have no clue if it did.

“I, no,” Jungkook clears his throat again and he nods. “It was just a mistake then, it won’t happen again.” Now he looks away from you completely as he goes and puts the towel into the laundry basket.

Suddenly, you feel yourself on the verge of breaking. How can he be so composed right now when you feel like you simultaneously want to shout at him to tell him how much he means to you, and cry endlessly because–does he really not feel anything for you?

“Alias is waiting for you upstairs,” you say, walking past him to go into the bathroom. “I’ll meet you later.”

You leave no time for him to respond but just before you close the door, you catch a glimpse of his confused doe eyes and just like that, your heart sinks again.

“Could it really be?” your dad pretends to rub his eyes, blinking a few times as his face morphs into a grin. “Our daughter is here to grace us with her presence, I don’t believe it.”

Your mom laughs, gently patting your hand as you sit down between them. 

“Ha-ha, very funny dad,” you deadpan, throwing him a grumpy look.

“I’m only kidding, honey. I’m just glad you’ve decided to join us for lunch.”

“Of course,” you shrug. “I’ll even make your plates, what do you want?”

Your dad throws your mom a look. “Our princess is spoiling us today.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you head over to the buffet table to prepare two plates for your parents with everything you know they like. Just as you turn back to return to your table, you catch Jungkook watching you from across the balcony.

He’s on a table with Alex, Sophia and a few others. Meeting your gaze, he gives a small smile before looking away. Gosh you never knew a smile could hurt so much. 

Ignoring the pang in your chest, you return to your parents and slump into the seat.

“Where’s yours?” your dad asks, already reaching for a sandwich. 

“I’m not that hungry,” you mumble, taking a strawberry and biting into it. 

Not so slyly, your parents exchange glances. They choose to say nothing for the moment, making small talk as they enjoy their lunch. 

Once your dad is on his second cup of coffee, your mum takes your hand and squeezes gently. Looking up, you take comfort in the smile you see on her face. You know that both your parents are aware that there’s something on your mind – it’s why you’ve chosen to sit silently in their company while they have their own light hearted conversation. You also know that their advice is usually unparalleled to anyone else’s and right now, you could really do with some of their wise words.

“Is there anything you want to eat, honey?” your mom asks.

“The fruit is fine,” you answer quietly.

In response, your dad piles all the fruit into the plate in front of you while your mother gently continues probing.

“You’ve lost your appetite then… that usually happens for a reason, hm?”

You don’t say anything and she continues. 

“Would it have anything to do with Jungkook?”

The rounded eyes you give your mom must give it away immediately as she lets out a small sigh.

“How could you tell?” you ask. 

“He came down ten minutes before you,” your dad answers, “he normally always waits for you. Not to mention the funny look you gave each other just a little while ago.”

Sighing, you slump further into your seat. “We got into an argument last night,” you admit, feeling like a five year old again. 

It seems so stupid to say out loud, especially because you don’t think you can bring yourself to reveal the real reason the argument feels as bad as it does – the reason being your feelings for him – but you don’t really care about feeling like a kid when it’s your parents. They’re the only people you can be this vulnerable with and at times like this, you want their comfort and company the most. You would love to tell them the whole story but there’s no way you’re telling them what just happened this morning so you go with everything else.

“It wouldn’t be the first,” your mom says, still holding your hand as she takes it into her lap.

“No, but this felt different…”

Your mom hums, gently playing with the bracelet on your wrist. Neither she nor your dad say anything, waiting for you to continue on your own.

Closing your eyes, you let out part of the truth. “Lawrence told me he likes me.”

Your mom’s fingers pause briefly before she continues twisting the charms between her fingers. Looking up, you catch your parents exchanging glances, most definitely surprised but they’re subtle about it. 

“He told me last night and I made it clear it wouldn’t work… but I think it looked different to Jungkook and he just kept telling me I should give Lawrence a chance even though I told him I don’t want to.”

“That’s what you argued about?” your dad asks. 

“Mhm.” 

“Lawrence telling you that…” your dad pauses momentarily before continuing, “how did it make you feel?” 

“It was weird,” you admit. “I used to have a big crush on him.” 

“Oh, we know,” your mom says with a smile. 

Despite it being in the past, it still feels so embarrassing — you were such a wide eyed 16 year old with a fat school crush that even your parents noticed. 

“But I don’t now,” you mumble, cheeks warming as you keep your head lowered. “I told him that and I guess I felt kinda bad too. It’s been a while since we left school.”

Your father hums in agreement. “That’s a long time to like someone,” he says, head cocking as he looks at you knowingly. 

“I know.” 

Squeezing your hand, your mom takes over. “And what about Jungkook?”

“Well, when I told him, he was insisting I should give it a try.”

“That doesn’t seem like such a bad thing to suggest,” your dad shrugs. “I’d say the same thing, after all, you said it yourself that you liked him before and Lawrence is a good guy.”

“Yeah but I don’t now,” you reiterate. “I thought Jungkook would know that.”

“You’ve been single since you left college, Y/N, there’s absolutely no reason for him to think your heart is elsewhere…” he pauses, patting your leg, “unless you tell him.”

“Huh?” You look at your dad but he’s already looked away, a smirk on his face as he takes a sip of his coffee. 

“I, what would I…?” you sputter, looking at your mom and seeing the smile on her face, you fall quiet. 

So much for trying to keep this a secret — if your parents know then you wonder if anyone else knows. Although, of course no one else knows you as much as your parents and here they are telling you to tell Jungkook how you really feel but it’s still so nerve wracking to you. 

There’s so many times you can think of that would make you think he likes you as much as you like him, but then there‘s also that voice of reason in your head that tells you you’re reading into it too much. Jungkook doesn’t like you romantically as much as you wish he would. 

Chin lifting, you get up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, “but thanks for the chat,” you smile, giving a quick kiss on the cheek to both of them. 

“Darling, you’ll regret it if you don’t,” your dad says as you’re walking off. 

“No idea what you mean,” you call out with an airy wave of your hand. 

Walking across the length of the deck, you steal a glance in the direction of Jungkook only to see he’s no longer there. Looking around, you can’t see him anywhere. Resigned, you find an empty table that’s out of sight from everyone you know and slump into the chair to be alone with your thoughts. 

No one knows you better than your parents, not even Jungkook and if they’re telling you to tell him then you can’t argue that there’s a big part of you that agrees and even wants to tell him.  How would it feel to have Jungkook as yours? Sure, you have him more than anyone else right now — you share everything together, the good stuff, the bad stuff, and all the days in between… 

It’s something you’ll forever be grateful for because if you can’t have all of Jungkook then you’ll take the little things whenever you can. Still though, you know it’s not the same when all you are to him is a best friend; his response to what happened this morning completely confirmed that to you. In some ways, it hurts more than anything else knowing that as his best friend, you’ll be there when he eventually does find someone to call his own and fuck, even just the thought of that hurts like a bitch. 

Who knows if you’d even still be friends when that happens? It’s only natural that he and whoever he chooses would become closer than ever and you’ll just be that childhood friend considered to be like a sister…

“You’re moping.”

Turning around, you see Alex standing with his hands on his hips. 

“And you’re interrupting,” you grumble, slumping back into the seat.

“Nope, come on, I’m not having this,” he says, coming right behind you and holding your head to look up at him. “The wedding is in three days and you are not going to spend it like this.”

“I’ll be fine for the wedding, I promise.”

Narrowing his eyes, Alex lets go and sits down next to you. “What about tomorrow?”

Tomorrow night is Thalia’s hen night and Alex’s stag night. The cruise will arrive at Porto Cheli around dawn tomorrow and most guests will be escorted to various villas rented out by the Cirillo’s. Meanwhile, you and a few close others, including Jungkook, will be arriving at the Cirillo family home. A grand estate which given its enormous size, will accommodate the tradition of keeping the bride and groom parties separate until the wedding on Saturday afternoon.

Thalia has never been much of a party-goer so she’s choosing to keep things simple with a fine dining evening although you’re sure Sophia has planned for strippers and booze to appear at some point during the night. 

“I’ll be fine,” you repeat, plastering on a smile.

“I know you can fake it for everyone else but I actually want you to have a good time, Y/N,” he says, putting his arm around you.

Your smile turns into a genuine one. “I will, of course I will, it’s your wedding weekend and I’m so happy for you.”

Alex grins. “Thanks, I know you are.” He lets go and turns his chair to face you. “But I also know that you’re not talking to Jungkook right now, which means both of you will be moping until you make up.”

Of course he knows, you think. Well, he doesn’t know about this morning and you don’t know if you can bring yourself to tell him, it feels rather embarrassing for you. “Alias told you?”

“He told Sophia, she told Thalia and Thalia told me,” Alex shrugs.

It’s not like you expected it to stay a secret between your friends. Whenever Jungkook and you aren’t talking, it’s usually pretty obvious to everyone around you, especially your friends. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Alex offers.

“Not really.” Talking to your parents was enough and you already know what Alex is going to say. “You probably think I should just be completely honest about how I feel, right?”

Alex shrugs again. “Yeah, although he should’ve been upfront about it first.”

Surprised, you look up at him and he continues.

“I know I've been telling you for ages that he’s whipped for you, but this kind of proves it, don’t you think?” Alex glances at you, eyes creasing in the corners as he hides a smug smirk. “There’s only one reason he reacted to Lawrence the way he did.”

It makes sense, but it also doesn’t – Jungkook purely could’ve been pushing you to be with Lawrence as a friend who just wants to see you happy. You’d hate to think it’s for the former reason, only to realise you’ve terribly misinterpreted the situation and end up stupidly admitting your feelings to Jungkook when he cares for you only as a friend. “It doesn’t really,” you say, trying harder to convince yourself than Alex. “I mean, he probably just didn’t want me to waste the opportunity.”

“Ha!” Alex scoffs. “Waste the opportunity.” He gives you a look. “Come on, Y/N, why are you fighting every reason that you have to try?”

“It’s not a reason,” you counter. “We’ve gotten into one argument and I don’t think me saying I have feelings for him will change anything–”

“So you do.”

“What?” 

You look back at Alex and see his eyes wide and he’s not even hiding his smile anymore. 

“You do like him,” he repeats.

“I, what…?” Suddenly, you realise you just said it out loud. Opening your mouth, you’re about to try to cover it up somehow but it’s too late.

“I knew it,” Alex laughs, seeming way too ecstatic considering how shit you feel. “This is gold, Y/N, this is it, I’ve always known Jungkook liked you but you liking him too, it’s perfect!”

“Shh,” you hush him suddenly, grabbing his hands as you look around in a panic. “Alex shut up, someone’s gonna hear you.”

“The whole world should know, Y/N,” he laughs happily again. Looking at you, he cups your face in his hands. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long, you need to tell him, Y/N, please!”

The thought of telling Jungkook is terrifying to you, even more so now that Alex is saying it out loud and someone could possibly hear. 

With your expression split between worry and confusion, Alex’s smile fades a little but not completely. “Y/N, this is good, what’s wrong?”

For the first time, you let yourself say the truth out loud. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Alex sighs, his smile softening. “There’s only one way you’ll find out.

Now it’s you who scoffs, pulling away from him. “Yeah, right.”

“I am right,” he insists.

Sighing, you look at him. It’s so hard to hear Alex tell you that Jungkook likes you when youc an only think otherwise after this morning… “Something happened,” you start, watching Alex carefully.

For a second he still smiles but when he sees the worry lining your face, his expression mirrors yours as his smile fades. “Okay… you wanna talk about it?”

You quickly glance around to make sure no one can hear. “You promise you won’t tell anyone,” you say, “not even Alias or Sophia or Tha–” you cut yourself off. Asking Alex not to tell his soon to be wife is like asking him to cut off his hand, you already know that since he couldn’t even keep Sophia’s birthday present to her secret. “Fine, only Thalia.”

“Appreciate it,” Alex nods.

“Mhm, well…” You tell him briefly what happened this morning, sparing him the details but telling him every word of what was spoken after and he listens carefully, not interrupting you once. 

You chose to tell Alex because he’s the one who has always been so sure of Jungkook’s feelings for you, not Alias, nor Sophia, or even Thalia. Sure, the others have hinted at it but only Alex has ever paid attention to everything between Jungkook and you so if anyone knows the whole story and can give you the best advice, it’s him. So, it feels a little alarming to you when once you’re done, he still doesn’t say anything for a moment.

Then, he purses his lips, grimacing before he finally speaks. “Honestly, that’s a bit confusing. If there ever was a way to confess, this was the perfect window to do it.”

For what feels like the umpteenth time today, your heart sinks. “That’s what I thought.”

“But,” Alex says very surely, taking your hand, “it doesn’t change every single other thing he’s ever done to show he likes you, and let’s be real, he’s probably just worried that you won’t feel the same.”

It’s what you want to hear but it’s still so hard to accept it because what if it’s not true and you make a fool of yourself in front of Jungkook.

“I wish that were true,” you mumble. “But I don’t think I can keep holding onto hope when it hurts like this.”

Alex squeezes your hand. “Y/N, we know Jungkook, he doesn’t exactly play with anyone’s feelings and I absolutely don’t think he would start something physical with you unless he was feeling it emotionally too.”

“I know, but what if it’s just because he was horny.” You’re still mumbling, cheeks going warm as you say it. 

“Look, I think there’s a lot of guys who would sleep with their best friends if they had the chance,” Alex says, “but Jungkook isn’t one of them, he never has been.”

Thinking about it, you realise he’s right. Jungkook wouldn’t. There’s been way more chances in the past for him to have done things with you and you’re pretty sure there’s even been times where you drunkenly made a few moves on him but he never did anything himself.

“Still, I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Alex says encouragingly, “how long have I been telling you he likes you? I haven’t been saying it for no reason.”

“But you have no concrete proof either.”

“Just take a chance, be brave and then you’ll see I was right,” Alex says, raising a brow.

Glancing at him, you chuckle. “This is coming from the guy who had to get drunk to say I love you to the love of his life for the first time.”

Alex smiles and leans back in his seat as he gestures around him. “It worked didn’t it? Look at me now.”

Well, he got you there. Plus, you can’t deny the big part of you that believes it. Jungkook and your friendship does feel more than friends sometimes and you know it’s not all in your head. This morning seemed to confirm that too.

Narrowing your eyes at Alex, you turn away to face the horizon. “Don’t say anything to anyone, but I’ll think about it.”

“Yes,” Alex laughs, hugging you. “I’ll keep my mouth shut,” he says, sounding so excited. “You won’t regret this.”

Laughing, you pull him into your side. “You could start now, half the deck can hear you.”

“Sorry,” he grins, squeezing you. 

Maybe he’s right, maybe you won’t regret it. 

Jungkook comes to a stop at the end of the balcony to watch the sun set behind the sea. It’s been a long day with Alex asking his groomsmen to assist him in all things wedding related and then Alias needed help sorting out the entertainment for tomorrow.

Jungkook hasn’t seen you since lunch. He went back to the cabin while you had lunch with your parents since he didn’t want to make it awkward for you when you eventually came up to finish packing and since then he hasn’t seen you as you’ve been with the girls all day. 

Truthfully, after this morning, he doesn’t think he can bear to see you just yet. He feels like a coward. Not only has he probably ruined his friendship with you, but he also can’t help but feel like he’s hurt you. You looked so timid as you stood across the cabin from him and a part of him felt like you wanted him to say something other than what he said. If only he was 100% sure it’s what you wanted, Jungkoook would shout it for the whole world to hear, but what if it’s not and he really does ruin everything between you. Besides, you called it a mistake. That’s all Jungkook can remind himself of as it takes everything in him not to tell you he wishes that there was something more between you.

“Why the long face, Kookie?”

The voice comes from behind him but Jungkook doesn’t have to be looking to know who it is. 

Valentina appears beside him and leans on the balcony too. She doesn’t even look at him but just watches the horizon ahead as Jungkook was. “Trouble in paradise, huh?”

Jungkook frowns. Of course that’s the first thing she would think of. “Not really,” he mutters. 

As much as he wishes it was paradise between you and him, it wasn’t, none of it was real

and what he finds worse is that he couldn’t even keep up a fake relationship with you – he completely blew it.

“So what then? They didn’t have your favourite bagel for breakfast this morning?” She laughs lightly. 

However, Jungkook internally scowls. It’s annoying that she actually knows him rather well despite the finer details of their ‘relationship’. “No offence, Val, but I really just wanna be alone right now.” 

There’s harsher things he could’ve said, particularly naming her as the least desirable companion right now, but even without that, Valentina seems to get the message from his tone alone. 

The humour in her expression disappears leaving only a small poignant smile. 

Not expecting such a quick retreat from her, Jungkook immediately regrets his harsh tone but at the same time, he really is not in the mood for Valentina and her usual antics today. 

She doesn’t move an inch though. With a small sigh she turns and faces the horizon just as Jungkook was. 

Jungkook does the same; although he’d rather be left alone, he’s definitely not about to make it known again, especially since he now feels a bit bad.

“It’s always been her, hasn’t it?”

For a moment, Jungkook is completely thrown. Multiple thoughts run through his head – What? Valentina knows? How long has she known? Was it from when he was with her? Was he really always in love with you even while he was seeing other people? That must make him a complete dick, right? Has he always made it so painfully obvious that he’s in love with you?

His hesitation seems to give Valentina the answer she was looking for.

She glances at him and smiles before looking away again. “I’m not surprised really, I knew it from when I first met you, I guess it’s my fault for putting us both through everything we went through, it was damned from the start.”

“That’s not your fault,” Jungkook says, the guilt festering.

Valentina just shrugs. “It’s over now, no reason to care.” She says it meaninglessly but Jungkook can only hope she means it.

“So why the long face then?” she repeats, looking at him. “She’s yours, go be with her.”

“It’s not that simple.” 

Valentina laughs, bumping her shoulder into him. “Yeah, you’re right. Pretending to date someone you’re secretly in love with is never simple.”

For the second time, Jungkook looks at her stunned. “How did you…?”

She shrugs, still sporting an amused smile. “I know you think I’m stupid, Jungkook, just a head in the clouds rich bitch like everyone else does, but I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?”

“That’s not true,” Jungkook corrects her immediately. Sure, Valentina has her unbearable moments and more often than not, she plays dumb and innocent, but Jungkook knows that she’s more than that. “I wouldn’t have dated you if I thought that.”

“Don’t worry, Kookie, you don’t have to try to make me feel better, I really couldn’t care less about it. Now, back to the main issue here, you need to grow a pair and tell Y/N how you feel about her,” she says bluntly.

She’s not wrong, Jungkook thinks. “It’s just not that simple,” he sighs, turning away from her. It feels odd to be having this conversation with Valentina and despite her honesty just now, he doesn’t really feel like opening up to her.

“What’s complicated about it? You like her and she likes you.”

“We don’t know that.”

“You honestly think she doesn’t like you?” she asks, sounding surprised.

Hesitating, Jungkook eventually shrugs. “Sometimes I think so…” It’s true, sometimes Jungkook really feels so sure that you feel the same way, but then something always happens that changes things. He thinks of Lawrence – you liked him for so long and although Jungkook doesn’t know the extent of it, you always had this schoolgirl crush on him, even whilst you were with Alex. “But I don’t think she does.”

Valentina looks at Jungkook like he’s stupid and he’s vaguely reminded of why they never worked out. “Well, you can keep thinking that but it’s kind of obvious she does.”

Saying nothing, Jungkook looks out at the horizon again, leaning his forearms into the balcony. The sun is almost fully set marking the last day of the cruise. They’ll soon be arriving at Porto Cheli and it’ll be even harder to spend time with you once the bride and groom parties are separated. He wants to talk to you and to make things okay between you again, but he knows that he’s upset you and although it’s confusing him, he wants to give you space. 

Valentina sighs, nudging him. “Just talk to her, you don’t want to regret it later on,” she says, straightening up as her usual flamboyance returns. “You know if it doesn’t work out, I’ll always be here for you Kookie pie,” she almost coos, making Jungkook laugh and cringe at the same time. As ditzy as she may act sometimes, Valentina is more smart than Jungkook ever gave her credit for.

She grins, winking at him before she waltzes off like the conversation never happened.

The cabin is dark when you finally return to your room. It’s well past midnight and you expect Jungkook to be here but as your eyes quickly adjust, you can see the room is empty. As you walk in further, you see his suitcase standing packed and ready in the corner of the room. 

Deflating, you trudge over to your own open suitcase on one side of the room. You’re only half packed and you’d hoped Jungkook would still have his to do too so you’d have a chance to maybe talk to him, but it seems he’s already done it while you were busy with the girls. You wonder if he avoided you on purpose.

Pushing this thought quickly out of your head, you press shuffle on your ‘summer ‘23’ playlist in an attempt to cheer yourself up while you finish packing. It doesn’t really work but you at least keep your mind free from running rampant, instead singing along to some of your favourite tunes with no regards for your cabin neighbours, one of whom is Valentina and you’re more than certain she’s not in her cabin because you last saw her walking out of the premium lounge with a tall, handsome stranger whose face you couldn’t see and they went into an elevator going to the cabins on the other side of the ship, barely waiting to let the door close before locking lips.

Must be nice, you think sourly before shaking your head. Not cute, Y/N, you scold yourself. Although you don’t blame yourself for having negative thoughts since you are on the short end of an unrequited love story with your best friend, you’d still rather not be bitter.

Almost three hours later, you’ve packed everything, showered and are already dressed ready for the arrival at Porto Cheli soon. You’ve chosen a simple outfit, a sky blue linen co-ord with jewellery to match. Slipping into the comfiest sandals you own, you move your suitcase next to the door and grab your phone before heading out of the room. It’s almost 5am so there’s around an hour left until the ship docks at the port, marking the end of the cruise and the start of the busy wedding weekend. Most of you took a nap during the day, so deciding you wouldn’t sleep tonight, they all agreed to meet one last time on the cruise.

Despite everything that’s happened with Jungkook and the dampener it’s put on your mood, you’re still excited to celebrate Alex’s wedding. Not only is he dear to you, but you’re celebrating his marriage with so many of the people you love the most, making this whole trip special. It would be perfect if you could end it by fixing what’s happened with Jungkook but you feel like you’ve already made yourself so vulnerable to him and nothing came out of it.

It’s quiet and dark in the hallways as you make your way out to the pool on the top deck. It reminds you of the nights you were sneaking out with Jungkook to meet the other guys for whatever stupid stuff you were getting up to. It makes you miss him now and you subconsciously walk a little faster in anticipation of seeing him now as you all gather for the last time.

You can hear your friends before you see them and you smile at the sound of Alias’ laughter as you climb the steps to the deck. You’re certain any patrolling staff would have heard and they’re either being nice enough to let you all off, or Alias tipped them enough to keep quiet. 

There’s a bunch of familiar faces hanging around all together, all friends of either Alex, Thalia, Sophia or Alias. You smile at a few as you make your way over to Sophia, Thalia and a few others. 

The girls greet you warmly as you approach and Sophia hands you a drink as soon as you arrive. You take it and immediately take a sip. You weren’t planning on having anything to drink but one won’t hurt. There’s an excited buzz in the air, the same you felt on the first day of cruise but this feels special. The sun is rising on the horizon and you’re here with almost all of your best friends. Almost all of your best friends. Jungkook still isn’t here but you try not to focus on it and just have a good time with your friends. 

It works, so much so that you’re mid laughter when a familiar face joins the deck and makes their way over to you, but you don’t quite realise until he pats your shoulder as the conversation progresses. 

Turning around, your smile falters but doesn’t disappear. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey.” Lawrence looks nervous, an emotion you’re not used to seeing on him.

You also weren’t actually expecting to see him but you’re glad he’s here. Throughout everything, he’s still a friend and you’d hate to lose that relationship with him.

“How are you?” You ask, smile widening. You haven’t seen him since that night and you’d hate to think he’s been avoiding you when it’s the last thing you’d want.

“Good, thanks,” he nods. He seems to suddenly relax at your warm response. He glances at the group behind you and you turn too. No one is paying either of you any attention but Lawrence still asks for privacy. “Do you think we could talk?” he asks tentatively. “I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

“Of course,” you nod, following him as he turns right away and walks to the furthest side of the deck where it’s quietest. 

You stop when he does, taking a seat on the bench beside him. It’s easy to see he’s nervous as he glances around quickly before looking down at the drink in his hand. You want to say something to make him feel better but you don’t want to interrupt whatever it is he wants to say.

“How have you, uh, how have you been?” He looks up, holding eye contact for barely a second before looking away again.

“Good,” you answer. It’s not the truth but he doesn’t need to know that.

He nods and takes a sip of his drink. You do the same and you’ve just swallowed when he speaks again.

“I‘m sorry for pulling you away from your friends, I just wanted to talk to you tonight before all the wedding stuff starts and I didn’t know if I’d get a chance.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You lean in a little so he looks at you and smile. “You’re my friend too though,” you say, feeling the need to remind him.

His smile mirrors yours and he nods. “I kinda messed it up though…”

You know this is of course what he wanted to talk to you about and although you don’t think it needs to change anything between you, you know yourself how easily feelings can change a friendship. Not only that, but he deserves an explanation from you too since you did have feelings for him for a good chunk of your teen years and later, plus your conversation ended before it was supposed to that night when Alias and Jungkook appeared.

“Not really,” you shrug. “I think it’s just how we deal with it now, no?” 

“Yeah, if you’re okay with that,” he agrees. “I’d like to.”

“Of course I am. And I’m sorry too by the way.” 

Lawrence looks confused and you don’t wait for him to say anything before continuing.

“I think it must have been confusing for you to be on the receiving end of my feelings for you while we were in college and maybe I even subconsciously made it seem like it after too.”

“Ah,” Lawrence purses his lips. “Well I didn’t really know.”

“I know, you said that before but I still feel like I need to say it. There may have been a few times I was coming off as more than friendly and that was wrong of me.”

Lawrence’s silence serves as an answer.

“So yeah, I’m sorry too. I hope we can go back to how things were,” you say hesitantly.

“It might be hard,” Lawrence responds honestly. 

“I know…” your voice feels small. You know all too well how feelings can change a friendship. “But we’ll try?” You look at him and smile hopefully.

He nods. “Of course.” 

You’re content with that. Of course you don’t know the extent of his feelings for you so you hope it won’t be hard for him to move on – after all, the two of you mostly ever met up at family functions and dinners of the same sort. It’s rare for Lawrence to have joined any of the outings with your friends. It was never his fault since his parents have always pushed for him to do more for their company, especially since he was an only child. It’s something that’s always made you more grateful for your own parents and their completely laid back and caring approach to your career, even all throughout school. The only thing they ever pushed for was your grades but they kept up that same effort in all areas of your life, even your extracurriculars. Sure, sometimes when you were growing up you felt the pressure but you always felt supported by them no matter what the final result was.

Lawrence has experienced the opposite of you to say it simply, and you’re sure that given time, he’ll find the right person for him as he prioritises himself.

“Thanks for talking to me though,” you say, “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” Lawrence says, taking another sip. “At least now I don’t have to avoid you all weekend long.”

You laugh, agreeing with him and soon enough, the conversation continues although it doesn’t last longer than ten minutes with Lawrence excusing himself.

You stay seated at the bench as he leaves. You didn’t realise you were concerned about your relationship with Lawrence but the relief and content you’re feeling now tells you as much. You’re glad you’ve cleared everything up with him, now if only you could get yourself to do the same with Jungkook.

Glancing around, you realise that he still hasn’t appeared. He definitely would have known about it so you wonder why he hasn’t turned up. Finishing your drink, you get up and head over to where Alias is sitting with his friends Kelce and Dillon.

“Hey, Y/N,” they all say in unison when you come and sit beside them at the pool. They’re definitely a little tipsy and you don’t need to see the cans beside them to know that. Their goofy smiles say it all.

“Hey guys,” you chuckle, patting Kelce’s shoulder. “Um, have you guys seen Jungkook anywhere?” 

Alias immediately frowns but it’s Dillon who answers. “We were with him a while ago at the lounge.” He looks at the other guys. “When was that? A couple of hours ago?”

Kelce looks at his phone. “Yeah, it was around one.”

You went past the lounge at the same time, that’s when you saw Valentina leaving with that guy… for a split second, your mind goes there – could it have been him? – No. Absolutely no. The idea is absurd. You feel stupid for even thinking that.

“You haven’t seen him since then, Y/N?” Alias asks.

“No.” You ignore the seed of concern that settles in your stomach. You’re certain he’s not with Valentina, but where is he? 

“We were gonna leave the lounge together but he stayed for another drink,” Alias tells you, seeming to share the same concern as you. “He seemed like he wanted to be alone so we left him.”

“Oh.” It’s not like Jungkook to drink alone – if he does, he’s usually upset about something. “Well, thanks for telling me,” you mutter, getting up and leaving the group.

Alias, however, gets up with you. “Hey,” he says, taking your arm. “You want me to find him?” He looks you over and you’re sure the concern in his expression isn’t solely for Jungkook.

“Um…” you hesitate. You don’t want to seem like a clingy best friend, especially not after what happened between you, but if Jungkook is drinking alone then he’s not feeling okay and you would normally be there for him. This time you feel like you can’t be, but Alias can. However, you don’t want to ask Alias to spend his night away from his friends and family.

Looking at him, you smile. “No, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s around somewhere.”

Alias doesn’t seem convinced. “But then he would be here.”

He’s right. “Or maybe he was tired and went back to the cabin?”

“You just said you haven’t seen him since we did.”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you shake your head. “I haven’t.”

Sighing, Alias pulls out his phone. “I’ll try calling him but if he doesn’t get back to me in ten minutes we’ll go look for him.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Let me know if he replies,” you say, thanking him too before going back to some of the girls. 

You’re not listening much to their conversation although you try to get involved to take your mind off of Jungkook. 

It isn’t until you receive a text from Alias with a screenshot that your nerves are put to rest. 

[3:01] Me: hey man where r u?

[3:13] JK: hey sorry bro, I knocked out on the balcony.

[3:13] Me: oh okay, it’s all good just wanted to know where u were. Join us now? We’re at the top pool deck. 

[3.15] JK: I’m just gonna check all my luggage is packed first. Will join later.

[3:15] Me: cool see u. 

So he’s fine, he just fell asleep. You still want to see him but you know that’s not going to happen unless you go down to the cabin room and you don’t want to seem clingy so you don’t. Instead, you turn your attention back to the conversation the girls are having and feel the excitement for the weekend to come.

Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often and he had no plans of doing so the last night of the cruise either, and he most definitely did not expect to get drunk with your father of all people…

“You coming Jungkook?”

Looking up from his drink, Jungkook shook his head. “Nah, I’m just gonna hang here for a bit,” he said with a smile so as not to raise suspicions from the already watchful eye of Alias. 

Still, Alias frowned. “You sure?” 

“Yeah, I still got a headache.”

“Alright, well text me if you need anything,” Alias said as he, Kelce and Dillon got up. 

“Get well soon,” Kelce said as they took their leave.

“Join us later, yeah?” Dillon added.  

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

He watched as they walked out, trying to find the same excitement in him for the wedding as they’re feeling but his head was full of other thoughts. 

Sighing, he looked down at this drink again. It’s true that he had a headache. He even chose not to have anything alcoholic, opting for a mocktail from the extensive drinks menu available at the lounge. He’s not sure where it came from but he thought it’s most likely just because he couldn’t stop his brain from thinking and the lack of sleep didn’t help either. 

Truthfully, he knew he was just moping. He knew what he had to do and he knew it before his conversation with Valentina. Although, the fact that she said it too just made Jungkook more aware of the truth. 

The line between friendship and something more had always been blurry for Jungkook and the past few days only made him more sure of it — he’s in love with you and he always has been for as long as he can remember. 

Every time the thought crossed Jungkook’s mind, it triggered the questions that come with it. How do I tell her? Does she feel the same way? She’ll hate me. What if she hates me? I shouldn’t do that to her? What’s worse, is that now  it had come to the point that being with you was almost painful – not knowing if he could have more with you when all he had to do was confront his feelings, swallow his pride and be honest with you. Even if you didn’t feel the same, it was the point at which he realised he would rather you hate him for admitting his feelings and ruining your friendship, than stay quiet and never know if he can have what he’s always wanted with you.

That said, it still felt so hard to do – he had a lot to lose.

Head lowered, Jungkook tried to figure out the best way to do this when he heard a familiar laugh somewhere behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Valentina walking with a tall, handsome man beside her. Jungkook had seen him around a few times but he wasn’t sure if he was a part of the wedding party. Whoever he was, he sure knew how to make Valentina laugh; she was laughing as he put his arm around her and she raised her hand to hold his fingers loosely when she looked towards the bar. Making eye contact with Jungkook, she stopped and tilted her head.

Jungkook just smiled awkwardly and turned back around. He didn’t want to seem like he was staring even though that was what he was doing but for no bad reason – he liked to see Valentina happy. Despite her shortcomings, deep down she always had good intentions for the most part and making her happy was something Jungkook couldn’t do. However, he would’ve been lying if he said seeing her like that didn’t hurt – not because he was jealous of her, but because everyone around him seemed to be having such good luck in their love lives (whether there’s feelings attached or not) and here he was, unable to find the words to tell his best friend he loves her. It sucked.

“And what are you doing here, may I ask?”

Hearing Valentina’s voice so close to him all of a sudden startled Jungkook. He looked up, eyes wide. She stood with one hand on the bar and the other on her hip. 

“Uh, just getting a drink.”

Valentina rolled her eyes. “I spoke to you less than 12 hours ago, Jungkook, do you not remember anything?”

“I do,” he replied, glancing across at her date who seemed super unbothered as he waited for her a short distance away.

“Then why are you here?”

“I just needed to think some things over.”

“Like what?”

“Just things,” Jungkook said, feeling somewhat intimidated by how serious she was right now.

“You know you’re just wasting time,” she said matter-of-factly.

“She’s with everyone else right now, I don’t want to ruin her evening,” Jungkook says defensively.

“I really don’t think anything you say or do could ruin her evening.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Well, yeah but you’re not doing anything about it so how is that any better?”

She wasn’t wrong but Jungkook was convinced he needed to give you time. “I’m just not ready yet,” he sighed.

Valentina sighed too. “Fine,” she shrugged and turned back towards her date. “But you don’t need to think, Jungkook, you just need to do what needs to be done,” she added with a wave of her hand.

He knew she was right but why did it feel so hard?! 

Getting the attention of the bartender, he ordered a much needed drink, downing it all almost as soon as it came before ordering a second. At least he wasn’t a light weight. He knew this wouldn’t help his headache but it wasn’t like he was helping himself at all by sitting here and thinking endlessly. Endless thoughts of what could go right and wrong trailed through his mind, leaving him conflicted as he accepted that he wouldn’t disturb your night with this.

Halfway through his drink, someone came and took a seat at the stool beside him despite there  being space elsewhere. Looking across, he was more than surprised to see the last person he would’ve expected to see here.

Lawrence only acknowledged Jungkook with a nod before ordering his own drink. 

A multitude of emotions went through Jungkook at this particular moment starting with wanting to punch Lawrence in his perfect face, to feeling sorry for himself for being forced into this situation, then feeling sorry for Lawrence because he knew that he got the short end of the stick – at least Jungkook still has a strong friendship with you —  and oddly, gratefulness because Jungkook knows what he needs to do now and without Lawrence, he wouldn’t have been forced into it and who knows how long he would’ve gone without telling you the truth (though he had yet to do it). 

Saying nothing himself, Jungkook took another sip of his drink.

Lawrence, however, started a conversation. “You not joining the others?”

“Nah,” Jungkook answered quietly. He gave no reason but he didn’t need to. 

Lawrence nodded in understanding but said nothing else. His drink arrived and he stayed seated, sipping quietly beside Jungkook. 

Jungkook really didn’t care for conversation. He came to the bar for some peace and quiet so initiating a conversation is the last thing he wanted to do.

With all that said, Jungkook’s curiosity got the better of him. 

“What about you?” He asked without even turning his head. “You’re not gonna head up there?” 

Lawrence shook his head. “I’ll head up a bit later”

Jungkook nodded, wondering if Lawrence would see you while he was there. He could ask him but that would open the doors to another conversation which he didn’t really want to have.  

Lawrence didn’t owe him any apology since you’re not really his girlfriend. He did seem to cross a line considering he didn’t know that at the time, but there was no reason for him to say it now. 

Just when Jungkook took another sip of his drink, Lawrence put his glass down and looked toward Jungkook, sincerely. 

“Hey, man, I’m really sorry for what I did.”

Although he harboured some slight resentment towards Lawrence for what happened, it immediately seemed to melt away in that moment. Their friendship extended well beyond the past few days and Jungkook has never been the type to hold a grudge, especially not when the other person is genuine. 

“It’s cool,” he responded. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did.”

Jungkook only had to glance at Lawrence to see he looked guilty and felt bad about it. “I was selfish and I wanted to tell Y/N how I felt. I guess there was a part of me that wished she wasn’t with you and that was completely fucked up.” 

“She’s not with me though.” 

It came out slightly harsher than intended, carrying the weight of Jungkook’s own feelings. Lawrence went quiet and Jungkook continued, resigned.

“Honestly I’d say you’ve got a pretty good shot with her, I’d go for it if I were you.”

“Why don’t you?” Lawnrence asked simply, without any curiosity or even peaked interest. His voice held more of a genuine want to help. 

“What?”

“Why don’t you just go for it?”

Jungkook shook his head. “We’re just friends.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“No offence Lawrence, but how would you know?”… Now that did come out slightly harsher than intended. “The last time you even saw us was probably at Sophia’s graduation and even then you were gonna way before the night ended.”

Completely understanding, Lawrence backed up. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Jungkook cooled off. “I’m sorry too.  That came out wrong.”

“It’s alright.” Lawrence sat back in his chair, swirled his drink before taking three long sips to empty the glass. 

“It doesn’t change anything though,” he said, getting up from his stool. “There’s a point at which you can pass friendship and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with treading beyond that line.” He put a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Just do it carefully.”

Jungkook stared at Lawrence but Lawrence didn’t linger. 

“Anyway, like I said, I’m sorry for everything.”

Jungkook watched as he walked away, the words swimming in his befuddled mind.

Lawrence was right. There was a line and Jungkook knew he was straddling that fine line and perhaps now it was too late to step back. Instead, he should be brave and put everything out on that line. It was easy enough to think with liquid courage flowing through him, that and the fact that you weren’t here right now. But maybe he should have taken advantage of the fact that he was feeling more confident now, he should find you, he found himself thinking. He should tell you he’s in love with you and then whatever happens next will happen. He can’t control that and right now there’s already a strain on the relationship that can only be fixed by the truth. 

He should do it, he thought. The thought built up more and more, ushering Jungkook as he pushed himself off the bar stool—

“Where you going, son? I just got here.”

A firm band on Jungkook’s shoulder pushed him back down, contrasting the loving tone with which he was spoken to. 

Your dad took the seat which was previously occupied by Lawrence and Jungkook could only stare for a moment as he called the bartender and ordered two drinks. If it was anyone else, Jungkook would’ve apologised and excused himself to carry out his plan of finding you, but with your dad it was simply not the case. 

“You like a gin and tonic right?” He asked, after ordering. 

Jungkook wasn’t particularly fond of it but he nodded. “Yeah, thanks. “

“How come you’re not with the others?”

Jungkook shrugged, hoping that your dad wouldn’t be able to tell he’d already had a couple to drink. “I just wasn’t feeling it.”

“And Y/N?”

Despite being the only thing on his mind for a while, the mention of you still threw him. “Huh?”

“Is she with the others?” Your dad asked coolly, reaching for some peanuts from the bowl in front of them.

“Yeah, I think so,” Jungkook answered as nonchalantly as he could. 

The bartender arrived with their drinks and your dad took his and sipped slowly in silence. 

Jungkoon was not uncomfortable around your dad, not in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to have grown rather close to him over the years and appreciated the almost father-son bond they shared. Having spent much time with your family, there wasn’t much he had yet to experience when it came to your dad, but this was something different. He’d never been sat at a bar, just the two of them making small talk over drinks. 

Jungkook knew your dad well enough to know that that wasn’t the purpose of this. Your dad is just breaking the ice to another conversation… but what? Surely it had to be about you and that was the only reason Jungkook found his palms unusually sweaty.

After what must’ve been at least twenty more minutes of small talk about the weather and football, Jungkook had emptied his second glass. 

Your dad laughed. “I forgot you can take your liquor, huh?” 

Before Jungkook could even respond, another drink had been ordered for him and Jungkook willed himself to drink this one slower, wary that he was already more than a few drinks in now though he was grateful that your dad was good at keeping up 

“So, what’s the real reason you’re not with the others?” Your dad asked, his own drink replaced with another as well. 

Jungkook shrugged and answered honestly. “Just not in the mood to socialise. I think I’d be a bit of a Debby downer so I’d rather sit this one out.”

“That’s selfless of you.”

“Not really, kind of selfish actually.”

Your dad nodded. “A bit of both then.”

Much to Jungkook’s surprise, your dad emptied his glass faster than Jungkook had and didn’t hesitate to order another. 

“Anything else for you?” he asked Jungkook. 

“Uh, sure.” Jungkook wasn’t sure why he said yes but he did, ordering a whiskey instead.

Your dad pulled his phone out and sighed, muttering an apology about a work issue and Jungkook nodded, not minding in the slightest. But the issue must have been resolved quickly because he put the phone away only moments later. 

“It almost feels wrong to be drinking with you,” your dad said. 

“Why?” Jungkook asked, taking the smallest sip from his glass. “Because I’m younger than you?”

“Partly. I’ve known you since you were so young, it’s hard to believe how much you’ve grown up.” Your dad smiled. “Y/N too.”

Jungkook smiled. “It has been a long time.” He thought back to the first day he first met your dad and you. He was a shy kid, hiding behind his mom and at the time, you were pretty shy at the time too. It was your mom who encouraged you to ask Jungkook if he wanted to read a book with you. He looked at his own mom for reassurance before shyly agreeing and following you to the reading corner in your playroom.  By the end of the night your affinity for him had grown and that was the simple start to your long friendship with more ups and downs than Jungkook could count.

“But at the same time it feels like nothing.”

Your dad raised his glass. “Exactly,” he said, with an agreeing nod of his head. “A lifetime and nothing, both at once. I sometimes wish I could go back.”

“To when we were young?”

“Further back if I could,” he smiled. “Maybe a few years before Y/N was born. Just before I got married.”

“Why then? Jungkook asked, curious. He’d known your dad for so many years and they’d had plenty of conversations about serious stuff and more light hearted stuff, but this was different. He’d not spoken much about his relationship witn your mother, especially not when partially intoxicated. And while Jungkook had seen plenty of the love they shared, he’d not heard much about it except from you.

“When I first met Y/N’s mother—gosh,” he sighed contentedly as though reliving the moment. “She was like no one else I’d ever met. She still is,” he added with a gentle chuckle. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend my days with. I’d give everything I have to be with her. Every minute of every hour, always.”

The smile on your dads face grew, as did Jungkook’s. 

“We were young when we got married, you know?”

Jungkook nodded. “I know. 24 right?”

He nodded, the corners of his lips turning up further into a proud smile. “I didn’t want to waste another day without the promise of having her by my side. My friends said I was mad, too young.”

Jungkook shakes his head, knowing how it felt to not want to be apart from someone he loved so dearly. “I don’t think you were mad at all. You were in love.” 

Your dad turned, now masking the smile that was on his face as he looked at Jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eye that Jungkook hadn’t seen before. “You know it when you feel it. There’s no mistaking it.”

Jungkook knew that now. He felt it more than ever with you now. But more pressingly, Jungkook realised – your dad knew. 

If it weren’t for the drinks he’d had, Jungkook might have felt embarrassed.

In quiet admittance, Jungkook sighed. “I know.”

Your dad smiled. “You shouldn’t let this time get away from you, Jungkook. You’re young with a life to live. Do it with love and without regrets. 

Jungkook nodded, feeling a tumultuous swirl of emotions inside. “I will,” he said, feeling more certain now than he had before, but he knew his head wasn’t in the right place to do this. First he ought to sober up… 

There was a gentle pat on his back from your dad. “Good.” He flagged the bartender down for what felt like too many times to Jungkook. “But first another drink with me.”

“Sure.” Jungkook felt his words slur slightly. Then the cogs in his brain which were turning a little slower raised a question in his mind. his eyes narrowed and he turned to your dad. “Wait, is this a test?”

Your dad laughed. “I’ve always liked you Jungkook.”

“Me too.” Jungkook smiled though he still looked wary. 

“Good.” Your dad returned the smile with even more fondness. “And no, it’s not a test. Let’s drink.”

So Jungkook stayed.

note. how are you finding it? :) let me know xoxoxo link for part 3 here

more song recs: lose control — meduza & becky hill & goodboys tenerife sea — ed sheeran i'm a mess — ed sheeran so good (stripped) — halsey crazy what love can do — david guetta & becky hill & ella henderson

[sky-is-the-limit]

Realistic König Headcanons bc I love him so much <3

• He would definitely steal all your plushies so he could smell you at night while cuddling with them in his Hello Kitty pajamas:(

• He'd always put on a Disney film after killing a bunch of people to forget about it as well as sing along to Let It Go (Elsa is his fav)

• He would ask you to tuck him in at night and read him a bedtime story to make the demons go away:(

• König would be the type to say "kiss my booboo" after getting shot cause he's so fragile and precious.

• He would call you so many pet names in German like his little Schnitzel Volkswagen<3

• He'd definitely ask you to hold his hand whenever he'd have to step out of the house bc of his social anxiety, poor baby would have panic attacks whenever Jehovah's Witnesses would pull up.

• If you'd touch his balaclava, he'd break down crying like the smol precious bean he is because you mean so much to him, and he doesn't want to scare you away:(

• He'd love the colour pink and would let you decorate his uniform with sparkly patches before going off to commit war crimes<3

• His bestie, Ghost (shh doesn't matter that realistically they'd be enemies and Simon would dust his ass into the next dimension) would come over to bake cookies and sell them to raise money for a local charity <3

• He'd be Price's favourite child, golden 141 member and they'd have to kick Gaz out to make room for his 7'8 little body<3

• He was really into art when he was a kid but they didn't accept him into art school:(

[cozzzynook]

regarding the latest post with bee and cliff being meg and op’s sparklings: what are their reactions to star being bee’s conjunx?

I imagine megs is gonna blow a fuse and immediately try something to make them split, cliff takes his sire’s anger as well but he’s vocal about it, op is trying to be civil here but has his own doubts. bee knew this was a mistake but bought star because it would eventually be known soon, meanwhile star has a smug smile and isn’t (not a lot anyway) phased by bee’s family. drift and ratchet don’t like it either, neither does their sparklings. but their sparklings are more accepting, since if bee likes this menace of a seeker maybe he’s not that bad. (they may or may not be right)

adore and love your writing 🫶🫶

😭 thank you!

Bee is 100% not ready to introduce his conjunx to his family.

Cliff is downright unbearable in his complaining and his sire is over the top literally shooting his canon at Starscream who is laughing and antagonizing the former war mech.

Optimus is no better because he does keep his conjunx from offlining Starscream but he does threaten him with a Spark scalpel curtsey of Ratchet who came to the family dinner with his conjunx and sparklings who brought their conjunxes and sparklings.

Cliff is conjunxed to Mirage who proved his love for Cliff already, so the mech is just sitting back watching everything unfold happy to not be the subject of his conjunxs creators ire.

Starscream is not an idiot.

He does not take Optimus’s threat lightly and he knows to fear that mech more than Megatron. He’s dealt with Megatron for thousands of years, he knows how to deal with him.

Its Drift and Ratchet along with Optimus that he fears.

He knows who Drift used to be and he knows Ratchet can and will take him apart piece by piece.

He has no intentions of hurting or leaving his little space bee but he does wish for this family dinner to be over with so they can go back to the peace and quiet of their home where he can spoil his little brat of a conjunx and enjoy his spoiling right back.

Starscream matches Cliff’s snide remarks right back and matches Ratchets glares with devious smirks while carefully taunting Optimus whenever he makes an underhanded remark and he matches Drifts weary glares with raised optic ridges.

By the end of dinner Bee has enough and lays in on his family for being so rude to Starscream.

“Carrier! You can’t say a word about my choice in conjunx when sire was a warlord!! Sire! You worked with him!!! You both committed war crimes! Uncle Drift you were a decepticon too at one point and Uncle Ratchet you conjunxed him when he was still a con! None of you have the right to judge so stop it! Or I won’t be coming back!”

“And cliff!”

Cliff was just staring with his mouth open since Bee so rarely yelled.

“Stop with the remarks! You hated it when sire and carrier treated Mirage like this! Don’t do it to me and my conjunx!”

Bee stands and yanks Starscream with him who looks shocked and follows Bee before holding him and lifting him up.

“While your family is quite rude to guests. They have a right to worry love.”

“Not you too.”

“I’m on your side always,” Starscream assured him, “but I don’t want to see you arguing with your family or on bad terms. Especially because of me.”

And Bee knew his love missed his trine even if they were simply far away back in Vos it sucked to be without your family close by. Especially since the trio were so close they practically lived with them.

“Lets head back home to Vos?”

And Starscream smiled a little at this, completely focused on Bee forgetting the others who saw Starscream in a different light.

“Only if you all reconcile,” he agreed kissing his yellow loves helm.

“I think we owe you an apology,” Optimus said after clearing his intake passage.

“Sorry Bee…screamer,” Cliff said still such a brat but at least he tried.

Ratchet was still bitter but he did huff out a gruff sorry followed by Drift’s apology.

Megatron had to be elbowed by Optimus and after a few kliks and a sigh he apologized.

Bee bunched up Starscreams dermas before his mate could make things worse.

“Thank you,” he smiled warmly, “i think we should go now. I’ll contact you guys later?”

With a sad nod his creators and split spark hugged him before seeing them off.

Dinner went well since no one was offlined but it was still a disaster.

Bee was wondering what they’d do if the two ever sparked.

He was not looking forward to that conversation.

[theawkwardterrier]

WIP Sunday

Tagged so very kindly by my wonderful meme bestie @lavellenchanted 🥰🥰 Here's a bit of the OL fic that I've been working on and that I'm mad about working on!

“Now that we’ve established my credentials, are you comfortable removing your shirt, soldier?” she asks, finding it easy to fall into the manner of address that saw her so well through the war. He lifts an eyebrow at the term, but doesn’t comment. “Aye, I trust my tender self to yer ministrations, Mistress, if that’s what ye mean. But I might need a bit o’ help with my shirt.” His good hand gestures to his opposite shoulder, and his smile is fading along with the light which had entered his eyes. There are plenty of patients she’s had who would have done better with a response that was stern and reminded him that he didn’t need mollycoddling, or with joking about to chivvy him from the mood he was sinking into. But some instinct, beyond the knowledge that she has built from experience, makes her do something else entirely. “Take your time,” she says gently. “I’ll help where it’s needed.” He does manage to bare himself most of the way, and not altogether terribly slowly. The trouble comes, as they both knew it would, with his injured arm. His mobility is such that he cannot twist his arm to reach up and remove that sleeve; perhaps at night he shakes it off, or has a comrade who will help him, but he doesn’t seem interested in putting himself on display in that way, and she doesn’t want him to. Instead, as he stops with the shirt draped over half his body, she makes her way around him, making certain that he can hear her movements, that she touches him gently along the back of his neck first so he can sense where she will be aiming next since she isn’t certain whether he has full feeling in his shoulder and doesn’t want to startle him. She doesn’t say anything as she eases the sleeve away from his skin, no small talk or even evaluatory questions, nothing about his shoulder or the deep scarring that she finds across his back. Jamie, however, speaks without her having to ask. It’s a terrible story, despite the calm with which he tells it: a Redcoat captain, an attack on Jamie’s sister, a crowd which watched him being viciously whipped for crimes that he hadn’t committed — including his father, who died thinking that his son had died first, and in such pain. During the war, she saw other nurses grow attached to patients, staying at a certain bedside hours after their shift had ended, singing a favorite song to dull the pain, even placing a kiss on lips breathing their last. Nothing close ever happened to her; not, she thinks now, necessarily because of Frank, but because she was better able to wall herself off and keep from true connection with the soldiers and partisans and innocent civilians who she treated…or maybe because none of them was the right one. For a barely-breathing moment, she can imagine bending and laying her cheek against the scars, letting him know that while she might have not been there to heal him then, she is here now. Beneath layers of fabric and padding, her stomach rumbles — only hunger, to be certain, signaling the hours since she finished the last of Nan’s bannocks in the cart, but a reminder of the care that she needs to take now. No foolish mistakes, not when she isn’t only protecting herself. “And how did this come about?” she asks, placing a delicate finger on the raised arch of his shoulder joint. As much as she is striving to bring herself back to that vaunted professionalism, her voice is still soft.

Tagging my buds @flyinghome-againstthewind, @smashing-teacups, @frasers-of-my-heart, and @doctorhelena, plus anyone else who wants to share some WIP fun!

[ohsalome]

Let's talk about "liberal russians"

Meet Ilya Varlamov. He is a popular russian blogger currently living in Europe. I used to watch him years ago for his urbanism content and architectural preservation/restoration projects.

Ilya has fked from russia because he doesn't agree with putin's politics. He doesn't feel safe and free in russia and he wants to live in a cultured and democratic society.

A perfect recipe for an anti-war "good russian", right? Wrong.

Instead of raising money for Ukrainian army, helping out Ukrainian refugees, participating in pro-Ukrainian demonstrations, raising awareness about russian war crimes - basically, doing anything morally correct in a situation when a country you're a citizen of is commiting a genocide - Ilya spends his time whining about how unfair and "russophobic" the world is.

Recently he has been spotted in London by a ukrainian journalist, who has asked him a very simple question - is putin a war criminal? For a supposed "anti-war opposition", this couldn't be easier to answer, no? Well, Ilya answered the question by running away from the journalist

You might remember this character from the last-year scandal involving his Instagram post about Kyrgyzstan. While staying there as a "war refugee", he has defended his entitlement of insulting the country that sheltered, compared Kyrgyzstan to a giant restaurant and said that Kyrgiz people should be grateful that he has blessed them with his presence and must aim to please him. Never deleted that post, btw. Probably still thinks there was nothing wrong with it.

(Cultural context: Kyrgyzstan is a Cetral Asian country, so his speech reads very much as "natives, come kiss the feet of a white man")

Ilya has video series where he explores various "post-Soviet" countries, and a year ago he has made one about Ukraine as well. Only unlike with other countries, his entry about Ukraine was full of lies and pro-Kremlin propaganda. There is a very thorough examination of that "film" by a ukrainian journalist Roman Tsymbalyk, whom he has interviewed for his film and then edited out 99% of the interview and totally misrepresented Roman. Unfortunately, the video is in russian, but you might play around with automatically generated subtitles.

I am talking about this man not because he is some kind of rando. This is a very popular blogger (1,3 million subs on Instagram, 4,56 million subscribers on Youtube). This is the voice the "young, progressive, anti-authoritarian russian youth" listens to. This illustrates the truth all ukrainians know very well - russian liberalism ends on the "ukrainian question".

[lil-quinnie]

part I part II part III

modern!gamer!Eddie x f!reader x neighbor!Steve

Warnings +18 : dom!eddie, switch!Steve, sub!reader, cursing, dirty talk, grinding, daddy kink, rimjob, unprotected sex, cum eating, exhibitionism, little bit of degradation, anal play, threesome (MFM), angst,let me know if i missed something.

it's the first time i wrote any steddie interaction, hope you guys like it.

Word count: 6224

PLAY DIRTY

Eddie was sitting in front of the computer with a frown on his face, the only movement he made was scrolling his finger on the mouse, reading each and every disgusting comment that appeared in a video that strangely, he hadn't posted. The blue light bothered the eyes of the newly awakened Eddie, a large cup of black coffee (without sugar) in one hand, the cigarette in the other while the boy watched attentively each thrust that your tongue gave in his ass, he definitely didn't post this.

Every moan that came out of your mouth while playing with his ass made his cock harder, making him feel the visible tent that formed inside his black boxers.

Eddie had even forgotten why he was so mad at you, until he remembered the comments.

"mommy? what a joke"

"Eddie, who's the bitch now?"

"I bet if I knocked on the door right now I could fuck them both"

Oh! boy. Eddie was angry, smoke was coming out of his head. It's one thing to be exposed and become acclaimed, it's another to become a joke. He felt exposed and attacked by the one he trusted the most, you. even knowing that he had started this war.

You, like every Saturday, abused your hours in bed since there was no commitment or task to be done. You got out of bed around 2pm, strangely Eddie wasn't home, "weird" you thought. You started to open the curtains and windows letting the warm sunlight illuminate the entire kitchen and living room area. Still wearing Eddie's old Hellfire T-shirt, you put on your earpods and chose your favorite playlist, jumping up and down and dancing around the room as you sorted everything into place, trying to make the room as comfortable as possible so that when your boyfriend arrived he could give all the attention you've been craving for weeks.

You poured a generous dose of whiskey into your favorite glass, sat on the windowsill and lit a cigarette. Listening to music and watching the street go by, every time you close your eyes, flashes of last night flashed back into your mind, of how loving and romantic Eddie was with you even after you abused him, not just his body but his trust too. You knew it was the last peaceful moment you'd ever have, when you heard the boots tapping against the hardwood floor and the keys tapping nervously against the doorknob, yeah! you were fucked and you knew it.

Eddie opened the door and already machine-gunned you with his gaze, you felt cold from your belly, making you sigh as the boy approached you.

"Good morning baby, I woke up and you weren't anywhere, I missed you." you placed a light kiss on the motionless boy's lips

He pulled you out of your seat and dragged you to the sofa, throwing you on it, causing the drink glass to fly across the room, scattering the shards of your favorite glass on the floor.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" he looked down on you, as if you had committed a crime..

"The same as you when you did the same thing to me." you attacked him back, standing in front of him. "Or only you can have fun at my expense?" 

you tried to get past him you tried to walk past him but he held your wrist tightly 

"Do you know what people are calling me on the internet right now, my love?" 

he pulled you against his chest, lifting your chin with one finger, his eyes could burn holes into your skin with so much anger you could feel it radiating off of Eddie.

"It wasn't enough for me to be the freak,now I'm also the mama's boy, cool huh?".

You stared at him for a moment longer until your eyes were filled with blinding rage, you ripped your wrist from the boy's grip

“You can't be mama's boy but I can be the bitch?" 

you push him across the chest 

"A sex toy, cum dump?" 

you pushed again 

"I can be bitten, tied up..." you swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat 

"You showed me like I was an animal ready for slaughter, you let them see everything only you should see , so, what was I thinking? asshole."

Eddie knew you were right, but he wasn't going to let you off the hook, he wanted you to feel the way he was feeling right now.

"You're going to have to make it up to me for this, you know that?" he said taking his car keys and wallet, putting everything inside his back pockets

"Make it up to you? what do you mean?" you crossed your arms against your chest and didn't let your gaze stray from eddie's

"Yeah, make it up to me. I can't go out like a mama's boy, and if you don't want to be exposed like a...cum dump, I'll find someone who does, and I'll bring them over here." he moved frighteningly close to you, you could feel his warm breath in your ear

"You can participate or not, it's up to you" The malicious smile that formed on Eddie's lips was palpable just by the tone of his voice.

You still hadn't processed what your boyfriend had whispered in your ear and when you realized it, he was already making his way to the door, when you decided to throw the empty whiskey bottle next to him. 

"You don't even dream of shit like that, Munson. If you bring someone into this apartment you'll have to deal with the consequences, without whimpering like, like a mama's boy" now it was your turn to smirk.

"We'll see"

 was all he said before opening the door and walking to the building's entrance, being pushed by the encouragement "FUCK YOU MUNSON" that came out of the deepest air you had in your lung.

You took the expensive whiskey that Eddie hid in the room and didn't care about the glasses, you downed long gulps straight from the neck, so numb with everything that was happening that you barely felt the woody taste of the drink and not even the burning that always followed of goals, nothing. 

You skirted around the shards of glass, now all strewn across the living room that you had just tidied up to spend the rest of the weekend in your loved one's arms, but instead…

"You didn't even try to protect me from the mean comments" you whispered to yourself, sipping your drink.

All Steve could hear through the thin walls of his apartment was the huge fight between his neighbor and her boyfriend.

It was a tangle of sounds, between screams, clapping hands and sarcastic laughs. Steve knew that Eddie wasn't a person with the cleanest vocabulary and he was surprised to find that you weren't far behind, such a pretty mouth spewing all kinds of bad words at Eddie.

The sound of breaking glass caused the entire floor to go silent, Steve could hear your shuddering breath and Eddie's breath was weak, almost inaudible.

The boy's heavy boots caused the old wooden floor to creak, a loud slam as the door shut, and the man's step lowered as he made his way out of the building.

Steve looking at the computer screen with the comments page still open, the red sign on the screen showed that Eddie was no longer online, but the comments that made the guy lose his sanity were still on the screen, Steve's was still on the screen.

"kngstv: I bet if I knocked on the door right now I could fuck them both"

Steve wasn't stupid, he knew what  Eddie had been doing for a while. Not only did he know, but he closely followed every new interaction in front of the camera.

It started with the first audio that Eddie purposely leaked of you guys having sex, Steve would listen to the audio over and over again, several nights of stroking his dick imagining both neighbors on their knees for him, he had memorized some lines from the audio and knew what was the right point that he wanted to reach his orgasm, the sound of your moans with Eddie's made Steve come harder each time.

When Eddie’s first live stream was recorded without authorization and shared by all social networks, Steve knew it was you, not because of your body, nor of Eddie's tattoos or long hair, it was because of your moans and the guttural pleasure that you released at every praise eddie’s give to you. He heard these moans for months by now,living wall to wall with you, he knows every type of sound you can make on bed.

Steve had some privileges now that he was your neighbor. He knew what the fight was about, he knew your side of the story and he knew your boyfriend's side. He knew you weren't going to accept the attitude Eddie was putting and he knew Eddie was too scared to actually choose another girl, and Steve  can't let the both of the hottest people he knows broke up. Not before he tasted you two together.

The loud knocking on your door brought your head out of the cycle of sadness, opening the door just a crack you saw your neighbor standing in the doorway, playing with his perfect hair, "he probably heard the fight" you think, opening the door the rest of the way , Steve smiled at you, causing you to let your guard down

"Hi pretty, is everything okay over here?" Steve said looking over your head, seeing glass everywhere "Holy shit, are you alright?" he said walking past you "Shit honey! Why are you barefoot?"

You looked down at your feet and a cry escaped "I-I don't know, I'm sorry"

"It's ok, c-come here, come on pretty girl, jump on my lap" and with that your legs circled Steve's body, until he carefully placed you on the couch. 

"So, do you want to talk about what happened?"

Steve started to collect the broken glass while you sipped your drink in silence, your eyes not leaving the half-empty glass.

"I did a bad thing to Eddie and now he wants to do an even worse thing to me" You sighed deeply and downed the rest of your drink. "I'm so tired of this internet thing, and views and likes, it's all bullshit."

Steve sat beside you, his warm palm resting against your bare thigh, sending shivers down your spine. "Sorry honey, but what does the internet have to do with Eddie breaking everything? I don't understand"

"Actually, I was the one who broke it, I was so mad I didn't even notice when it flew out of my hand."

Steve shook his head, picking up the last pieces of glass.

 "What a bad girl, Eddie should punish you for that, you know?",

 "No-no sir, I'm a good girl" You covered your mouth with both hands as soon as the sentence left your mouth.

Steve smirked and nodded "Then get a box so we can put all this glass, okay little girl?" You shook your head and went into the bedroom looking for a box.

Steve took advantage of your departure and ran to Eddie's desktop, thanking God that the boy saved his passwords, quickly logging into his twitch account, starting the live show, turning off the monitor and returning to his place, broom in hand .

"Here Stebie" You handed the box to the man and sat back down on the sofa, holding a glass of whiskey for him.

"What happened to 'sir'?" he laughs slyly and your cheeks start to turn red.

He put the trash in the corner and sat beside you, his fingers brushing yours as he took the glass, his body turned to face you, arm resting on the back of the couch and his free hand playing with a lock of your hair.

"So what was the fight about?" he asked quietly, still winding his own finger around your hair.

"It's stupid, Eddie can be so mean sometimes" you didn't mean to, but a pout formed on your lips.

"Don't be spoiled, pretty girl, Eddie treats you really well too."

 "I know" you said more to yourself

"What did he ask that made you so mad?"

"He, he said that he would find someone to bring home, whether I liked it or not, and that if I wanted to I could participate" your  eyes were filled with tears, when Steve's hands went to your face, holding it tight . Steve's thumb traced the path of your tear, down to your soft cheeks to your  cupid's bow, skirting your lips.

"Someone, huh?" Steve's voice was soft like velvet in your ear. "Didn't he say who? Was it a girl or a boy?" Steve's thumb is contouring your bottom lip now, pulling and pressing your fleshy lip, causing your mouth to be slightly open.

His thumb slowly entering your mouth, resting on your tongue, making you take a deeper breath "good girl" he he said taking his finger out of your mouth and smearing saliva across all your mouth "good fucking girl". he whispered, looking at you with pure lust and desire.

Looking at lover’s lake while smoking a joint, Eddie needed to get his head together before he came home and apologized to you. 30 minutes had already passed, he knew that was enough time to have you in agony, that was enough for today, he thought.

Getting into the van, he lit a cigarette and took out his cell phone. The device was hot with so many comments on twitch, on the videos page... and a small live signal appeared in the corner of the screen.

Eddie felt an icy shiver run down his spine, it felt like there wasn't enough air in the world to make Eddie breathe right now, seeing you sitting on the couch with none other than King Steve, who tormented Eddie for years, playing with a soft lock of your hair.

Eddie stood still watching the interaction, Steve knew what he was doing, he knew he was going to break your armor soon, he knew that Eddie was probably watching and going home and he knew that few options were left for the metalhead. Either he plays Steve's game or he's going to continue being a cuckold mama's boy.

The stream chat beeped more and more, causing Eddie's phone to keep vibrating,

"Does Eddie know or is he a cuckold?",

"They are going to fuck this bitch together, i’m telling."

“She’s a fucking whore, wanna taste too”

Eddie was fucked, he knew his only way out now was to carry on with whatever he caught Steve doing to you, damn Harington! he couldn't let the freak get better of him.

You were huddled in almost Steve's lap, while Steve's hands caressed all the exposed skin on your body, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, squeezing your waist tighter, making you bite your lip, trying to suppress the tears.

The sound of the key turning inside the bolt echoed through the apartment, causing Steve's whispers to stop. He could feel your body tense in his lap, and with a few tight squeezes around your waist, he tried to give you some reassurance, even though he was also terrified.

"Well, well, well... If it isn't Mr. King Steve" Eddie stopped with his arms crossed, watching the scene, your body wrapped around Steve's, his hand on your bare skin. It was possible to hear Eddie's teeth grinding so hard his bite was making his heart race.

Eddie walked over calmly and sat next to you and Steve, making himself comfortable. He pushed the hair out of your face, staring at your glossy eyes and with a strong grip, pulled your face against his, forcing your lips to his. His tongue invaded your mouth, licking and nipping in a desperate kiss, wanting to show everyone who you belonged to, who owned you.

"I told you that you could choose whether or not to participate with the other person," Eddie said, holding your face tightly, biting your lip. "But it looks like you chose to participate, and choose even the person, doesn't it! you little whore?" 

Eddie slapped you across the face, making your ear ring "I asked you a question, slut" his free hand went to your neck, squeezing hard "yes" you said between ragged breaths.

"Good". he said nonchalantly.

Eddie looked at you with disdain and turned his gaze to the other man 

"Are you in, King Steve?"

"yeah, yeah! of course I'm in" Steve said, putting you on the couch and standing next to Eddie, both of their backs facing away from the webcam.

"I know you planned this, you asshole. And as soon as this shit is over, I'm going to beat the shit out of you" Eddie snapped at Steve, who in turn could only smirk.

"Here are the rules, you're only going to do what I let you do. You gotta ask me to and if I let you, you do it.” Eddie smirks to Steve, “ you gotta do it right, ok big boy?"

"r-right" Steve now understood why you called him daddy, something about the man's bossy tone made Steve's dick tremble inside his boxers.

"Hey! lil princess. Stand up and let Steve take all your clothes off, shall you?"

 Eddie demanded, sitting back in his gaming chair. He could see the shame and fear in your eyes and it turned him on even more. "I don't like to repeat what I said."

You stood up and shivered as you felt Steve's warm hands on the hem of your shirt

 "But E-eddie I don't think..." You were cut off, by eddie's hand slamming against your cheek again 

"Disgusting.bitches.like you.don't.speak." he said cupping your face, squeezing so hard your  lips were half parted. "Open your mouth, bitch, open your mouth wide for me,yeah,that’s it” a globe of saliva travels from eddies mouth to yours “good fucking job, that’s a good girl, swallow it for us babe." Eddie wiped the corners of your mouth while returning to his place.

"Kiss her Stevie” he said mockingly “I want you to taste me in her mouth so you don't forget who she belongs to." Steve's hands were already on your face and his lips were pressed against yours, tongue kissing you, he moaned into your mouth as he felt the taste of Eddie on your tongue, making his cock press against the zipper of his pants.

Your body rubbing against the boy's, causing his hands to squeeze the fat of your ass, eliciting moans from your pretty mouth

"mhm, fuck Stevie, I can feel your cock on my thigh, it's so... big" you meowled. 

Steve and Eddie groaned together hearing your words, pressing harder his body into yours.

"Now take her clothes off big boy, nothing you haven't already seen" he said, you could feel the evil on his voice, making your face burn with embarrassment.

Steve took off your T-shirt slowly through your body, fingertips teasing your warm skin, leaving your two peaked nipples on display for the two men in front of you.

"Go on, you can touch them Harrington” Eddie said with his low voice, “this slut begging for it, beg slut, beg him to touch you."

"please please Steve touch me.” your eyes pleading to steve touch you “I've been a good girl Steve! I've been a good girl sir! touch me please" you almost cry at the boy.

"Such a fucking good girl, so obedient, so good for us! Can I touch her Eds?"

Eddie just nodded as he felt himself through his pants, letting a low moan escape when he saw Steve's lips connecting with your nipple. You squirmed each time Steve bit down on your nipple, rolling the other one between his fingers. His mouth bit and left little marks all around your breast, making you moan louder and louder.

"I bet you're wet” Eddie said, palming his dick through his pants, “you're so dumb when you're horny, a whore for any attention”he said, approaching you,He cupped your face gently, placing a sweet kiss on your lips, he connected his forehead with your, looking into your eyes.

"Are you okay princess?" he whispered just for you to hear, his gentle eyes searching in your beautiful face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, you just nod.

“Put your hand on her pussy, see how wet she is for us, king steve." Eddie turned his eyes to Steve’s, smirking at him.

Steve's fingers made their way down your body, past the waistband of your panties, fingertips playing with your pubic hair, lightly brushing your clit, causing you to gasp.

Steve's free hand held you still by your waist, his fingertips circling your entrance now, collecting all your arousal, lubricating his middle finger, your arms round Steve’s neck, his chest pressed at your back, hairchest tickling your skin, your tities full displayed for eddie, and Steve pushing his finger into your tight pussy, slowly, so slowly.

So slowly that you started to press your pussy against his fist.

"Greddy" Steve said pulling his finger out of you completely “greddy sluts don't get nothing, princess" he said, pulling away from you and standing up, adjusting his cock, so hard it was throbbing.

"Not to mention, that  Daddy said I need to ask him to touch you"

Something about hearing King Steve call Eddie daddy made him groan and drop his head back. "Fuck" Eddie huffed, getting up from his chair, his hand gripping Steve’s hair, noses almost bumping “what you did you call me, big boy?” Eddie said, almost sighing staring at Steve's delicious lips. “Daddy” Steve's voice was small,eyes never living Eddie’s gaze, he licked his lips and Eddie took it as an invitation.

The kiss was brutal,fighting for dominance, tongue and lips, moans and whimpers, Steve’s hands gripping at the hem of Eddie’s shirt, almost ripping it from your boyfriend’s body. Steve’s mouth traveled from Eddie’s lips, to his neck until his nipple, sucking and giving it cat licks, making Eddie moan and chuckles “Greddy tonight, aren’t we?” moving away from Steve and sitting across both of you, “C’mom big boy, make daddy proud” pointing at you with head.

Steve knelt in front of you, running his hands along the length of your leg, Eddie put his hand on the boy's chin, turning his face to his "but be a good boy and don't let her come, ok handsome?". Steve gasps at the pierced look on Eddie's face “o-ok daddy, i’ll be your good boy”, eddie only gives him a smirk.

The pain in Steve's dick was so bad that he had to unbutton his pants, trying to relieve the pressure, Eddie's gaze was glued to the outline of Steve's dick in his white underwear, he could see the small stain of pre-cum In the see-through underwear, leaving the pink tip of Steve showing, Eddie bit his lip.

"s-sir" you broke the boy's trance. 

"Oh, poor thing, you kept her waiting, Harington, I wonder why…" Eddie's hand squeezed Steve's shoulder lightly

"Come on little girl, what were you going to say?” Eddie proceeded. 

"mhm” you nod “thanks daddy. I wanted to ask ‘sir’ to take your shirt off, please".

Steve didn't wait for another word, he ripped off his shirt with one hand and with the other he already grabbed the waistband of your panties, pulling them by your leg and throwing them in some corner of the room. Sinking his face into your pussy, Steve suckled you like a starving man, licking and sucking your clit, his fingers circled your entrance, thrusting into your tight little hole all at once, you cried at the curved movement of Steve's fingers , hitting the right place. The pressure of his lips around your clit making your back arch, Steve increased the speed of the thrusts, making you moan pornographicly, he could have sworn it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

"Nice, huh?" Eddie bragged, "y-yeah! she's perfect, mean, she sounds perfect". Steve answers with his face still buried on your sweet cunt.

Steve was slowing down his thrusts and sucking her clit one last time, leaving you whining and frustrated.

"I've been a good girl, sir! please, please" you almost cried begging for the touch, any touch from the visibly excited man in front of you. 

Steve was big but no thicker than Eddie. The abdomen is clearly harder than your boyfriend's, adorned with hair, making your mouth water, not going unnoticed by Eddie, who already had his cock in his hand while masturbating watching another man eating you out.

"What do you think baby girl, Steve deserves to be repaid? Did he eat your nice little pussy good? Did he make you feel good?" Eddie said, still with his cock in his hand, leaking pre-cum from the swollen head. The words going straight to your core, making you moan out loud

"Yes! please daddy let me suck Steve's dick, he did a good job" Eddie's hand slammed hard against the fat on your ass "That's a good girl, a good slut for us, suck Stevie’s dick babe, I want to see your mouth full of his dick"

Steve let a groan escape through his nose watching you position yourself on your knees on the floor in front of him. Your hands massaged Steve's hard cock, making him hiss. He knew what you were capable of doing, he watched countless times from yesterday to today the video where you emasculate Eddie with such dexterity.

But seeing you like this, so vulnerable and in a hurry to make him feel good, Steve's perverted thoughts came back to him.

"Ask me nicely to put your mouth on my big cock, slut"

"please sir, can I put your dick in my mouth?" your fingers trailing up Steve's thigh, resting on the waistband of the man's underwear. "make you feel good?" lightly pulling his boxers down, sliding down his legs to join a pile of clothes thrown in the corner of the room.

Steve's big cock as soon as freed from his boxers came up against his abdomen, you could see the pre-cum stains glistening against the man's skin "can I taste you sir?" you could hear Eddie moaning as he massaged the tip of his cock, Steve let his head fall back 

"Fuck princess, yeah! you can taste my cock"

You licked your palm before enveloping Steve's cock with your manicured fingers, moving up and down slowly, making Steve squirm under your touch.

"mhm, thank you sir, thank you very much" and with an innocent smile, you sank your mouth around the head of Steve's cock, giving light sucks, making the man go crazy

"fuck that's it, good girl" his hands on your hair, encouraging your mouth to go deeper on his cock, Eddie still masturbating, now sitting next to Steve, watching his head move up and down on another man's cock.

Steve started to move his hips against her face, fucking her face hard. Moans from him vibrated against the length of his cock, making him moan louder. When you were almost out of air, Steve released you from his cock making him moan at the lack of contact with his lips.

The man's hands squeezing his boyfriend's thigh as he touched himself, Eddie could feel Steve's eyes on his cock, he slid his hand slowly along the entire length of his cock, biting his lips containing a malicious smile, he pressed and massaged the head of his cock, his gaze never leaving Steve's face, as a drop of pre-cum trickled down the tip, steve let out a groan from the back of his throat.

"Wanna try it, big boy?"

Steve's eyes flew to his, looking for some kind of judgment but found only approval. "I-I never... I never did that daddy" Steve's so small voice made you moan louder than you expected.

You crawled until you were between your boyfriend's legs, his hands were against your face, holding you as if you were very fragile "hi pretty baby" he smiled, you lightly kissed his lips "hi daddy" you laughed down and continued "can I teach Steve how to suck your dick?"

Steve's heavy hand met the fat of your ass in a hard slap, making you cry and bite your lip.

"What did you just call me?" Steve asked, mirroring Eddie's words earlier.

"Sorry sir, I'm really sorry, can I teach you? please, I want you to feel how good daddy's dick is"

Eddie appears tired of the interaction and buried your face in his cock, causing the tip to hit the back of your throat, you gasped and coughed around his cock and felt your little pussy oozing from his crass attitude "That's it baby, choke on that dick, that's right, you stupid bitch, swallow it all" Eddie fucked his face mercilessly, moaning and growling at the feel of her throat around him.

He stopped your movements by pulling you by the hair, smiling at the sight of your swollen lips, chin and neck glistening with the amount of saliva that escaped his mouth. "Kiss her" he demanded, Steve quickly pressed his lips to his, his tongue not asking for permission, invading his mouth and moaning when he felt the taste of Eddie's cock on his tongue.

"That's it, good boy" Eddie's hands in Steve's hair "Now, you're going to lick her clean, swallow all the juice, the mixture of my cock and the sweet taste of my princess, ok?" you and the other man moaned at the same time "But first, come here whore" he handled your body, placing you in his lap.

He slid the head of the cock into your pussy, collecting all the juices of your arousal, making you moan loudly at the sensation against your clits, "Do you like that? hmm, that's right moan my name" You started to lower your hips looking for friction "please, daddy please!" you moaned almost desperately.

Eddie circled your entrance and slowly sank you into his cock, making you stretch inch by inch, his cock filling you deliciously, the rhythm he established allowing Steve to continue licking the mess Eddie left in your mouth.

Your hand enveloped Steve's cock, sliding up and down, making the man moan, the rhythm of Eddie's thrusts into your poor pussy increased with the sound of the moaning man who was fucking his girlfriend's hand. Steve's hand went to your clit, massaging, pushing you over the edge.

"Can I come? please can I come? I've been a good girl. Daddy? Sir? please" the fat tears started to run down your face "fucking yes! cream my whole cock, come on me babe. Be a good whore and cream all of my cock" and with this, your orgasm washed over your body, collapsed into your boyfriend's sweaty chest. He took you off his lap and laid you down gently on the couch, letting you get back to your normal self within your time, kissing your calf.

Eddie's gaze went to Steve who was already staring at him. Eddie draped his arms over the back of the couch and spread his legs slightly apart, getting comfortable. His cock trembled at Steve's look of desire, Steve's mouth watering at the sight of your cum running down Eddie's cock, making it gleam.

"Come here big boy, won't you be a good boy and clean up daddy?" Eddie said, making Steve groan and you sigh.

Eddie brought Steve's lips to theirs, kissing soft but firm at the same time, his hands roaming the boy's body, encircling Steve's cock with his big, callused hands "Would you be a good boy for me?" Eddie continued massaging Steve's hard member.

"y-yes daddy, I'll be your good boy" Steve finished the sentence getting on all fours on the couch, head down and ass up, his mouth wasn't as soft as yours but the feel of Steve's strong jaw opening and encompassing the head of eddie's cock caused his head to fall back "That's it my good boy" steve moaned tracing delicious vibrations on your boyfriend's cock, steve's head bobbed up and down on eddie's cock,strong hands playing with his balls, making Eddie fuck Steve's mouth in response to the boy's movements.

You recovered from your orgasm, propping yourself up on your elbows and finding the hottest scene, Steve's round ass exposed to you, as he rubbed his erect cock against one of the sofa cushions seeking any form of release. Your boyfriend's dick burying himself in his neighbor's throat, Eddie fucked his mouth deftly, moaning shamelessly.

His eyes met your face, your eyes on Steve's ass, you looked mesmerized. 

Eddie was smirking at you when his gaze returned to his, he just nodded, confirming the request that was written on his perfect face.

You knelt behind Steve, your hand squeezing his cock and balls at the same time, making Steve moan and as a result, Eddie rolled his eyes at the vibration. 

You started to slide your hand on Steve's cock, masturbating him while your delicate lips attacked the boy's balls. Eddie took advantage of Steve's distraction and grabbed his head, fucking the man's mouth with more desire, while Steve moaned desperately you took your wet tongue to Steve's puckered hole, licking lightly, massaging the ass of the man who moaned so hotly wrapped around from Eddie's dick.

"fuck fuck fuck" Eddie said each time Steve's body jumped forward with the attack on his asshole. 

Steve increased the pace of the blowjob, his hands gliding easily over the man's balls with the amount of saliva that oozed from Eddie's cock. "I want to cum in your ass, do you want to make daddy happy? be a good boy to me?"

Eddie knelt down behind Steve, who was now eating your pussy so eagerly, trying to get at least one more orgasm out of you.

His throat being opened the size of Steve's cock as he fucked his mouth carelessly, you underneath Steve in a delicious 69, leaving his ass high so Eddie could fill his asshole with cum.

Eddie promised Steve he'd just put the tip in and so he did, brushing the swollen head across Steve's asshole, which all made him fuck his throat deeper as Eddie pressed his asshole, trying to enlarge his neighbor's asshole.

As soon as Eddie got inside, he slowly fucked Steve's ass, making the neighbor moan desperately "oh! fuck I need to come, can I cum in your mouth princess?" Steve asked desperately but not stopping eating on your pussy so good.

Eddie was already on edge, head thrown back, head jammed in Steve's ass as he worked his length with his own hand. "Oh!fuck, make her come Steve, now!" 

Eddie said with the thrusts starting to get awkward, Steve with 2 fingers stuck in your pussy as he sucked you, you with your lips tight around Steve's cock. "Can i cum in her mouth? Can I, daddy?"

"Fuck you can" Eddie said squeezing their hands on Steve's hips, Eddie's strong grip bringing Steve to his climax, white strings of cum painting the walls of his throat, Steve's mouth sucked on the right spot of her pussy, fingers pressing into that spongy place making you squirting, soaking Steve's face.Eddie wasn't far behind, filling Steve's asshole with his hot cum, the three of them collapsing onto the couch, you couldn't tell where one started and the other ended. 

You were sandwiched between the boys, when a low chuckle left your lips, piquing the boys' curiosity.

"Damn, that was...something" you chuckled and broke free of the boys' embrace, heading to the bathroom to clean up a bit.

Alone now, Eddie and Steve exchanged incriminating glances, the lopsided grin making the men look like playful little boys. Steve was the first to break the silence

"I didn't think your plan would work so well," he said, brushing the hair out of the boy's face.

Eddie chuckled and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag and passing it to Steve, who happily accepted it.

"I told you, It's just make her mad and she turns into a fuckgirl" he winked at Steve, getting up from the sofa and sitting in front of the computer, eyes roaming the screen, reading all the comments, he could only smirk.

"Yeap! I think we broke the internet Harrington" Eddie said casually, turning off the machine and making his way to the bathroom to enjoy the shower with you. Steve continued to sit on the couch, not sure what to do.

"Are you coming or not Steve?" Eddie's low, husky voice made Steve shiver

"yes, yes I will Munson" Eddie smiled fondly at Steve, throwing a towel hard at Steve.

"For your modesty, man" he chuckled

"Nothing you haven't already seen" Steve raised one of his eyebrows and winked back at Eddie.

"Come on boys, I'm exhausted and hungry, let's shower soon and watch a movie" your sweet harmonic voice making both boys smile widely

"We're going babe" they said together causing you to roll your eyes and shake your head

"Now I have two assholes to take care of" you said to yourself.

-

Special thanks to @omenhel who put up with me complaining and gave me great ideas, I love you bub &lt;3

[sweetbillwriting]

The Key To His Heart - V

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019.

Setting: L.A, 2024 but in an alternative universe with Bill having a completely different life.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: It's not just Bill's life that is different in this world!

Maria looked at Bill with a soft laugh when they walked into the gigantic, empty theater. Everything was gold and red velvet; it was fitting for a movie scene just in itself.

“This is just for us?” She said, fixing the straps on the orange dress she was wearing. Bill smirked a little and looked at the big screen in front of them. He had never experienced movies in a theater that size by himself before.

“It seems like it.”

He looked around and could see an old-school popcorn machine and soda machine in the corner. On a table next to them lay postcards of movie posters. Bill couldn't stop himself from starting to look through them at once, and Maria giggled at him when she saw how eager he was to see what movies it was.

“Have you seen any of them?” She asked. Bill looked at her a bit amused and licked his lips.

“I think I've seen them all, actually.”

It was classics and cult movies from all decades, and many were on the shelves in his bedroom.

“Really? All of them?” Maria looked through the postcards. “Some look ancient!” She looked at a black-and-white picture.

“That’s Gone With The Wind. You've never seen it? When I was a kid in Sweden, it was often shown on TV.”

“No… Is it something I should see?”

“I think so. It's a classic—a real classic—but it's not a favorite of mine. It's a bit boring to me, but a classic nonetheless.”

Maria nodded a little and looked at Bill's long fingers going through some of the pictures. He wore two silver rings and had a broken cuticle on his left thumb.

“You must have seen the Cuckoo Nest!” He said and showed her a picture of Jack Nicholson. Maria smiled, and Bill thought it meant she had seen it, but she shook her head. “No, I know what it is about, but I've never been interested enough. But this I've seen!” She showed him a picture of Notting Hill, and Bill smiled a bit strained, but she couldn't read his smile. Notting Hill was a good movie, but he wouldn't say it was a movie leaving such a big impact on you. He had some teaching to do.

“What do you want to see?” He asked while inspecting the soda machine. Maria looked at him in silence while he tried to make the machine work. The black t-shirt sat tight over his bulking biceps, and the dark blue slacks sat nice over his ass and sculpted hips.

“Something romantic,” said she with a blushy smile. Bill looked back at her with a smirk. “It's not your genre?”

“Ehh… Not really, no. But there are absolutely good romantic movies too.” Just when he said that a bottle of Coke finally came out of the machine, and with a simple bang against the table, he opened it and gave it to Maria, who took it with a smile. Bill started to go through the pictures again, searching for a good romantic movie, but he was distracted by the better movie in the stack and showed Maria the pictures to see if she had seen them. The only one she had seen was Star Wars and It's a Wonderful Life. Bill didn't become irritated because he knew he was a nerd, but he thought a bit about how it would be if she actually knew a bit more.

They chose a movie each. She chose Dirty Dancing, while he chose Casablanca, just so she would see a classic. They talked about the movie while watching, even if Bill felt he was committing a crime by talking in the theater. He liked Dirty Dancing, but he would never understand why so many women felt it was so good. Some explained it as almost a religious experience, and he wondered if they really just had their sexual awakening when they saw Patrick Swayze dance. He let that question be; it felt a bit too early to accuse Maria of just being horny.

He could feel her eyes on him while they watched the movies, especially when the characters kissed. He recognized that from his teens. One of his first dates as a fourteen-year-old was at the movies. He remembered it being The Aviator that they saw, and the girl had watched his profile when Leonardo DiCaprio had a heated scene with Kate Beckinsale. He didn't dare to kiss her though, but let his knee press against hers. Now he dared to look at the woman next to him when Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman danced closely together. Maria looked back at him and giggled.

“Swedes are so gorgeous…” she said and looked at him with starlit eyes. Bill smirked a bit blushy but took the moment to kiss her. They didn't need to think about someone sitting behind him so Bill could angle his body against hers comfortably. It was Maria who kissed him again and again. He was surprised over her courage but kissed back and chuckled after, when their foreheads were pressed against each other.

×××

It was finally time for them to have some time outside of the TV show. They would all leave Bill's place to go home for a couple of days or to do something else than be locked in the house. Bill would go to his older brother Alex’s house, where his daughters lived for the moment. He had missed them so much, but he also needed advice from his brother. Herman wasn't the best friend to get advice from at the moment because he wanted a good show, so he needed someone who could remind him of the important things—what kind of woman he actually wanted.

Before letting the women leave, he would have a short time to say goodbye to them all separately. Bill felt nervous about it because some of the women he didn't know much about. He knew it would be so obvious for the women, and he would feel bad about it. He had neglected some of them. The first one to say goodbye to was Rose, whom he felt he knew quite a bit about.

“Will you go see your parents now?” He asked while they sat on the white banister on the porch. Rose nodded with a bright smile. Her cheeks were rosy, and she played with his fingers belonging to the hand laying between them.

“Yeah, I could go home, but they live here in town, so it felt easier.”

He knew she was from Florida; she had moved to get a better job. Bill was quiet for a moment, looking at the baby blue lace on her dress. It suited her blonde hair. She had probably dressed up just for that short moment with him.

“Why did you call my name last in the ceremony?” She dared to ask after looking at Bill's kind face for a few seconds. He turned his gaze towards her eyes and thought a little.

“I really like you, Rose, but I don't know if you understand what kind of life I live. You're so young.”

“What would I not understand?” She asked frustrated and furrowed her brows. Bill looked out over the lawn while a breeze played with his hair.

“You said you don't know if or when you want kids. I already have kids. A woman who is with me will get them too. They're my everything.”

Rose looked at him intensely and felt something squeeze around her heart.

“Of course I can live with that.”

“I don't want you to 'live with that.' I want you to see them as an important part of your life also.”

Rose took his hand in hers and squeezed it the same way something squeezed her heart. She wanted him so bad.

“Of course, of course.”

Bill examined her young face. It looked like she panicked, and he felt he couldn't really trust her words. It was obvious she wanted him, but it felt like she was afraid to lose other things because of it.

They said goodbye with a hug to Rose's disappointment. She tried to look at him so sweetly, tried to drag her hands so sensually over his chest, everything to get a kiss, but he moved away from her after the soft hug. She could hear her heart in her ears and feel tears under her eyelids when she walked back to her room.

×××

Tiffany giggled sweetly when Bill came into her room. It wasn't really her room but his oldest daughter's, and you could see clues to it when you looked at the motifs of pictures on the walls and the messy desk in the corner. She was ten and loved everything with flamingos to many's amusement.

“Why flamingos?” Asked Tiffany while looking at a picture of a flamingo with sunglasses on the wall. Bill laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

“I drew the line when she wanted to put one outside on the lawn.”

Tiffany laughed, and so did Bill. He sat down on the bed that Tiffany had made; she had a feeling he would come into her room either when they were still there or after they left.

“Where are you going now?” He asked and stretched his long legs out. Tiffany looked at his limbs, amused. He was so long.

“To a friend's house. I felt New York was a bit too far away.” Bill nodded understandingly.

“Is that the place you want to live?” He tried to lurk about how she felt about California, but that was obvious for Tiffany. She sat down next to him and stretched out her legs too. She wasn't that short, but her legs still looked short compared to his.

“I would move for love. I mean, I'm an actress; maybe Los Angeles is even better for me.”

Bill turned his gaze to her. He wanted to see if she was serious or if she just said what she believed he wanted to hear, like Rose had done. He smiled when he met her sincere eyes.

“Is it a close friend?” He asked to not drown in her eyes.

“It’s not my closest friend, but I have many friends, so...”

“But you're okay with leaving for a weekend? I guess it can be hard for some; I just need time with my girls. And some alone time.” He said the last part with a laugh, and Tiffany laughed too.

“There have been many girls.”

“Mhm. I am a girl dad, but it's a total other thing to be with grown women.”

Tiffany smiled when he rubbed his eyes like he was tired of just the thought. He laughed embarrassed when he saw her smile but then hugged her knee.

“I should say goodbye to the other girls.” Tiffany nodded disappointed but understood. She didn't feel rushed with Bill; she felt their relationship grew slowly and healthily, and she would win on that in the long run.

×××

He had been with Tiffany a bit too long because when he came out of her room, he could see Maria by a cab through the hallway's big window. He took several steps at a time on the stairs because he really didn't want to miss her; that would look so bad.

“Maria!” He shouted when he came out, and she turned her gaze to him. The taxi driver had put her luggage in the trunk and looked towards the cameras, uncomfortably. Maria laughed when Bill started to run towards her.

“I thought you had forgotten me.”

“Never,” he said charmingly and walked close to her. She smiled at him and laid her arms around his neck. Bill tucked her long black hair behind her ears and looked into her dark brown eyes.

“I think the driver wants to go, so I must say goodbye,” she said disappointed, and Bill nodded with a similar expression. He wondered if some of the other girls watched them, but he took the risk and gave her a light peck on the lips. Just like the day before, Maria was the one kissing him again; this time she separated her lips and licked his underlip to get a pass, but Bill drew the line there. It didn't feel right; it felt too intimate to do on the side of the road, with a possible audience.

Maria looked at him a bit embarrassed before jumping into the cab. She wondered what she did wrong because Bill seemed uncomfortable. She really felt there was something special between them, but maybe he had that feeling with more women.

×××

Bill walked to the guest house where the other women lived. He hadn't visited them there, but he had heard it was there that the drama happened. He walked in through the door without knocking; it was his house after all, and he couldn't see that the girls would go around naked outside of their rooms, especially not now when they would leave. He looked around and felt shocked when he saw how messy it was. Piles of dishes stood in the kitchen, the stove had sticky stains, and even on the living room table stood coffee cups, and make-up was spread out. The girls in the main house didn't leave such a mess. He felt an icky feeling when he looked at the leftovers on the plates. Of course he could leave things like that too, but not in someone else's home.

“Hey Bill,” said Brigitte behind him, and he turned around. She could probably see that he looked dissatisfied by the mess because she looked around at it with embarrassment.

“It's mostly Esmeralda... She has a tendency to just leave things behind and move on,” she said with an uncomfortable laugh. Bill nodded a little, even if he couldn't believe it was just one person who had created that mess.

“Ehm… I just wanted to say goodbye? He said and pushed down his hands deep in his jeans pocket.

Brigitte smiled and stepped closer to him. He smiled and thought back to their date. It had been so good, but it had paled with time. She stood up on her toes, wanted a kiss, and he would have felt bad had he not pressed his lips against hers.

“I will miss you,” she said softly and dragged her hands over his hips. He gave her a smile and kissed her again. He kissed her so he didn't need to lie. There were other girls he would think more about than her.

“I must say goodbye to the others too…” he said and released her slowly. Brigitte nodded but hugged his hips one final time and dragged her hands slowly towards his behind. Her gaze on him said it all to him. She had feelings for him—serious feelings for him. He smiled nervously and broke free from her grip so he could say goodbye to the rest of them. He felt awful that he more or less fooled them, just to make TV.

×××

Brigitte pointed out Violet and Esmeralda's rooms for him. Violet had the biggest room in the house, and Brigitte mentioned she wouldn't have accepted it another way when she moved in. Bill could smell the annoyance and understood Violet was a source of irritation in the house. He smirked a little when he walked towards her room because girl drama was a bit funny. He saved Esmeralda; she was still his favorite, and he wanted to save the best for last.

Violet sat on the edge of the bed and painted her lips with a nude colored lipstick. Bill knocked lightly on the door frame, and she looked at him with a bright smile and fixed her blouse.

“Bill! I didn't think you knew where the guesthouse was,” she teased and made Bill smirk.

“Do you think I've visited too little?”

“Yes, you haven't been here at all.”

He shrugged his shoulders and sat down next to her.

“Maybe because it's so fucking messy here. It will start smelling soon!” He joked even if there was truth to it. Violet looked embarrassed and answered fast:

“It's Esmeralda! She's so messy!”

Bill smirked at seeing her panicked expression.

“All of it? How much does she eat?”

“Maybe not all of it; I don't know; maybe Sandra and Maria leave dishes too? I would never do that.” Bill nodded but looked away to cover his smirk.

“When will it be my time to go on a date? You have been out with everyone else, and I can't understand why I'm the last one,” she said when he looked at her again. He sat dumbfounded; he wasn't prepared for the question and hadn't thought about it either.

“Ehh…”

“I really thought you would take me out now. Instead, you took Maria, and that feels like a really weird choice. You two would never become an item. She's just old.”

Bill looked at Violet's serious expression to see if there was some sort of joke or remorse there, but there wasn't.

“She's just four years older than me.”

“Yes, but there's a big difference between men and women. You know that too. Men are young for a longer time. And like, if you want more kids, she may not be able to give you that, you know, because she's old.” Bill laughed a bit unamused because he didn't know at all what to say to her. It was misogynistic as hell, and he didn't think a woman would say such things about another on TV. He nodded a little; even if he didn't agree, he just did it because he was uncomfortable.

“Well, I just wanted to say goodbye, Violet.” He stood up and cleared his voice. He had lost the ability to small talk because of her outdated opinions. She smiled and stood up, clearly not feeling his vibe. He gave her a stiff smile and a hug so he could go to Esmeralda instead; he was quite sure she had better values.

×××

Bill had laid down on his back on Esmeralda’s bed. She lay next to him, on her side, and looked at him.

"Yeah, there has been some drama here... Violet is a bit of a diva,” said Esmeralda with a smirk. Bill looked at her and turned, so he laid face to face with her.

“How?” He said it curiously. Esmeralda laughed, and Bill smiled, confused.

“You just want the dirt! You're such a gossip!”

Bill laughed guiltily and took her hand and pulled her closer to his body.

“No, I'm just worried…” He faked obliviousness and made Esmeralda laugh even more.

She shook her head and laid her leg over his hip.

“Come on, tell me!” He said it with a silly smirk, and Esmeralda twisted her mouth in amusement.

“Yeah yeah… Well, I guess Violet is a bit of a diva; you know everything should be the way she wants, and Sandra can't handle that. It feels sometimes like she wants to push Violet's buttons to see her act out.”

“Like how?”

“She comments on everything. She’s on her for every silly thing. I guess she's a bit of a bully?”

Bill nodded with big eyes while dragging her hand over Esmeralda's thigh. He thought about asking about the mess in the kitchen, but let it be; he didn't want to start drama too.

“What about the others?” He asked. Esmeralda kissed his forehead with a giggle, before continuing to talk.

“Maria is Sandra's sidekick; she isn't mean in any way, but she seems irritated quite often. Brigitte is nice. Maybe too nice, a bit boring?” She looked at Bill like she hoped he would say anything, but he knew where the line was; he wouldn't give her anything about the others.

“And who are you?” He said it teasingly.

“I'm the bitch. You already knew that!” Bill laughed and moved closer to her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think I'm right all the time!”

Bill scratched his stubble on his jawline.

“I guess we're both alike in that. But I actually am right all the time!”

Esmeralda shook her head and lowered her gaze; because of that, she wasn't prepared for Bill putting his warm lips against hers. She giggled softly, and Bill saw his chance to let his tongue visit hers. Esmeralda kissed back and moved even closer to Bill, so their sexes were pushed together. She could feel the shape of him but didn't want to do more in front of the cameras.

“Can't you tell me about the girls in the main house? Like Rose, Sienna?” He asked when they had separated their lips.

“Rose is the sweetest. I don't think anyone has anything against her. She's just a doll. Looks like one too. I guess, just young?” Once again, Esmeralda looked at Bill like he would agree, but he didn't say anything, even if he did agree.

“Sienna is also really sweet but also a bit weird. I think she has ADHD or something. But she's also “the mom," I think? Everyone goes, or went, to her to get comfort. Ehm… Tiffany is probably the one I like best here, so you should eliminate her now.”

Bill furrowed his brows.

“I can't compete with her when I like her, and I don't want to share you with her.”

Bill looked away; suddenly he felt dirty again. He had kissed three women just that day—not Tiffany but two others. If Esmeralda was the bitch of the show, he clearly was the slut. He had never thought he would be that way, but suddenly it felt completely normal walking from woman to woman.

"Oh, by the way, Camila?” Said Esmeralda. One more woman he had kissed. “She dug around in your daughters’ stuff. So if they’re missing anything, it's probably her.”

Bill cleared his throat and looked away. The key. It must have been among his daughter’s things. He didn't know she had one either, but it was more logical she had one than Camila, and she had found it while searching through her stuff. Camila was the psycho of the group.

He got caught in his own thoughts for a while, but Esmeralda let him lay between her legs, thinking in silence. He collected himself just to say goodbye to Esmeralda with three intimate kisses, but then he laid down on his own bed. 

He was an asshole. He didn't want this anymore, but he didn't have a choice. He signed a contract and was forced to play along even if he could see himself becoming a douchier guy by the day. He would be ashamed when they broadcast the show on TV. Especially in front of his daughters. 

×××

He really tried to relax and clear his head at Alex's place, where he was finally without cameras, but it was hard. He felt awful and couldn't find a solution to it. He needed to accept he would look like an asshole on international TV. Why did he kiss all three of them? He should have just kissed Esmeralda, but the other girls really wanted to, so he felt forced. It wasn't the whole truth, but almost, and while he looked at his daughter's play in the pool, he nodded to himself, saying to himself that he wasn't the driving force for the kisses. 

“But it is this Esmeralda who is your favorite? Do you think it will be her in the end?” Asked Alex curiously, everyone around Bill thought the show was interesting, especially when Bill could shut off his emotions easily and was really picky with women. 

Bill put a hand behind his head where he lay in the sunbed. He scratched his armpit while thinking about Alex's question. He thought about Esmeralda and smiled a little, but it died down when he thought about another woman. 

“What?” Alex asked and examined his little brother’s face; it looked like he experienced many emotions at once. 

“She's my favorite, but I don't know... There are other women too. I just feel like an asshole all the time. They treat me like I am so fucking special, and I also wonder how many of them would feel that if it wasn't a competition.” 

Alex nodded and looked towards his girlfriend, who sat with their son by a table in the shade. He wished Bill could get the same love and comfort, but a TV show was probably not the right way. 

Both of them sat quietly, but it was just Alex who heard Bill's phone ringing. 

“It's ringing!” Shouted Alex's girlfriend and held up Bill's phone that lay on the table. 

“Who is it?” Shouted Bill back. 

“Herman!” 

Bill sighed and laid a hand on his forehead. 

“Throw the phone in the pool!” 

“What?” She answered, believing she had heard wrong. Bill sighed and stood up without answering her. He walked quickly so he would be able to answer before Herman hung up. 

“Yeah?” 

“Bill? Hey. How is it?” 

“It's fine. How are you?” 

“Good, good… Ehm.. We have bad news.” 

Bill sat down next to Alex's son and prepared himself for the worst, even if he didn't know what that would be. 

“Sandra will not come back to the show. Her dad isn't recovering like she thought.” 

“Oh. That's sad…” Bill said even if he didn't have so many emotions around it. He didn't know Sandra's dad, so it became all too abstract, and he hadn't gotten to know Sandra either. 

“Yeah… We must solve this; there’s far too few girls for the number of episodes the channel has paid for.” 

“Okay?” 

“So we must bring someone back.” 

Bill sat quietly, staring up at the sky and feeling his heart beat faster and faster. He was pathetic, but he wouldn't lose this chance. 

“We want to bring back Odette-” 

“Sienna. I want Sienna back,” interrupted Bill. He played with the edge of his dark green bathing shorts and pulled at the strings. He had lowered his gaze because even if Alex's girlfriend didn't know anything, he knew she could hear the desperation in his voice. 

Herman smacked his lips. 

“What? I thought you didn't like her?” 

“Ehm… It can be good TV?” 

"Yeah, sure, but she left by herself. To be with her son. I don't think she wants to come back.” 

Bill listened to his heartbeat in his ears and dragged his hand over his thigh over and over. 

“We can try?” 

“I don't know Bill…” 

“I can try? I mean, if I personally say that I want her to come back, maybe she will?” 

Bill listened to Herman's silence until his friend dared to talk again. 

“To be honest, I don't think she liked you that much.” 

He wasn't prepared to hear that; it was silly that he hadn’t even considered that. She didn't like him; maybe her son even was just an excuse to get away from him. 

“We can at least try?”

Herman chuckled, amused. 

“Do you have a hangup?” 

Bill didn't say anything because it was always a joke about his hangups. He couldn't let things go. If he had decided to go for something, he would make that happen. Now it was about a girl.

“Can you just fix it so I can talk to her?” 

“Sure, I will try, but I can't force her.” 

When Bill had hung up, he met Alex's blue eyes to the left of him. He had lifted up his son in his lap and taken his seat so he could stare at his little brother until he would get nervous. He had overheard his phone call and knew he hid something from him. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” said Bill, and he played with his phone just to have something else to look at than Alex. 

“What? I was just wondering who you were talking about? Sienna? Is that another girl?” 

“No, it's a boy. I'm coming out, right here, right now!” Joked Bill and stretched his arms with a smirk. 

“Nothing new, so tell me about this boy, Sienna?” 

Bill grunted in irritation; he wasn't able to joke away the topic but he was stupid believing he would be able to do that. 

“Well… She left. She chose to leave the show. I guess I hadn't given her a fair chance really, and then she came to say that to me and… I don't know, those twenty minutes just… Stayed with me. It felt different being with her. I don't know...” 

“I hope it's not just one of your hangups, and you will ditch her as soon as she shows she likes you.” 

Even if Alex’s words irritated him, he answered collected: 

“No, no. I actually don't think so. It's not that sort of feeling. This is… Yeah, you know, it’s the real feeling.” 

Alex nodded; he knew and he could see on his brother’s face that he was serious. 

××× 

“Sienna said okay to a video call with you, but she also said she will not change her mind. She doesn't have the time.”

Herman had called Bill and talked about Sienna. He gave him her mail address so he could call her that way and gave him the time 2 AM. It was late, but that was fine; his daughters would be in bed by then. 

Bill felt more stressed about his looks than he had before any ceremony. He really wanted to look his best, so she would want to come back. He needed her to come back. Now when that thought was born, he hadn't been able to let it go. He needed more time with her. It was late at night because of the time difference between them. She lived in New Jersey, and they were three hours before Los Angeles. He was used to having calls late at night because of his family and friends in Sweden, so he didn't think about it so much. 

Even if she would just see him through a screen, he splashed on some perfume after having done his hair and pulled on a black t-shirt. He sat down in the bed, in Alex's guest room, with the laptop in his lap and looked at the watch. 1.46. It was still a long time until she would connect with him, and he didn't know what to do. For a while, he just sat and watched himself in the camera to see how he looked. He felt the lighting in the room gave him dark circles under his eyes, and he started to bite his lips when he felt they were too dry. After that, he started to look through all the apps on his phone, reading mail he had already read. He looked at the watch and opened the link for the conversation when there was just one minute left, but then nothing happened. He stared at the screen, but she didn't connect. Minute after minute went by, and slowly he started to give up. She really didn't like him… 

Suddenly she connected, and Bill straightened his back in anticipation. First he just saw a gray t-shirt with the Grateful Dead logo, but then she sat down and showed her face to him. She had no makeup on, and her hair looked shorter, only reaching down to her collarbone; it was in a messy half-updo, and the t-shirt hung loosely on her. She was beautiful. Bill took a deep breath and dragged his hand through his hair. He could feel his heart palpitate in his chest. 

“Hey, Sienna.” 

She smiled a little at him but also looked confused. 

“Hey, Bill.” 

He took a shaky breath and dragged his hand through his hair once again; it felt like it was laying in the wrong direction, or like it was a wig with a bad seam. 

“How, how are you?” He asked and tried to sound relaxed. 

“I'm okay. You?” 

“Yeah, I'm okay…” 

They looked at each other in silence, but both of them couldn’t keep themselves from smiling. It was Bill that started, but it was obvious it wouldn't take many seconds for Sienna to be infected by his genuine smile and big green eyes. 

“Biiill… What is this?” Sienna said with a silly whiny voice but giggled after. He laughed as an answer and looked down at the keyboard, embarrassed. 

“I don't know, Sienna, I don't know... It just happened,” he said and looked up at her again. She smirked teasingly a bit but then laughed. 

“I know, I know…” She sighed, but she smiled just as big as Bill. 

×

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @mysticstarlightduck!

Bold What Applies to your OC

Rules: As the title implies, bold/highlight which of the items applies to your OC!

Avymere has been around for a while, let's so what they've been up to :)

Killed Someone Under Orders | Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defense | Spared Someone’s Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It | Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome | Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid | Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them | Eaten An Insect | Been Groped/SA'd | Been Dumped | Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High | Put Someone In A Headlock | Won A Bet | Lost A Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Gotten A Noticeable Scar | Kneed/Hit Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush | Laughed Themselves To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotized | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied  | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor’s Guilt | Been Tied/Chained Up | Given Someone A Massage | Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone’s Life | Cheated On Someone | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone’s Trust | Broken Someone’s Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing | Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name | Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured | Tortured Others | Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love |  Suffered From Sleep Paralysis | Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language | Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/Uncle

Not bad for 153 years of spycraft. I'll tag @somethingclevermahogony @i-am-moss-the-boss @verba-writing and anyone else who wants in :)

[icarusignite]

An Eye for an Eye Ch.12

MASTERLIST / ao3 / wattpad

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC

"Make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face."

Summary: Aemond Targaryen visits Storm's End to cement his brother's alliance with the Baratheons, only to find that his runaway wife is already five steps ahead of him and will not let him take another victory away from her mother.

Word Count: 5.1k

"You called, my Lord Hand?"

The air within Lord Otto Hightower's chambers hung thick with tension, a palpable weight that seemed to press down on every surface. Aemond Targaryen, entered cautiously, his steps hesitant as he surveyed the room. His grandsire sat at his desk, his piercing gaze fixed upon a small scrap of parchment clenched tightly in his hand, while Aemond's mother stood by the window, her expression troubled, her eyes distant as if lost in thought.

The prince cleared his throat softly, seeking to break the heavy silence that enveloped the room. Otto's head snapped up, his eyes ablaze with fury as they landed upon his grandson. Without a word, he rose from his seat, the parchment falling forgotten to the floor as he strode purposefully towards Aemond. The young Targaryen felt a surge of apprehension rising within him as Otto's hands closed around his shoulders, his grip like iron.

"This is all your doing," he seethed, his voice low and menacing. "If you had just kept control of your wife as I instructed, none of this would have come to pass."

Aemond frowned in bewilderment, his mind racing to comprehend the accusation laid at his feet. Behind them, Alicent moved forward, her voice a soothing counterpoint to her father's rage.

"Father, please," she implored, her tone beseeching. "Aemond meant no harm. You mustn't blame him for this."

But Otto's anger was unrelenting, his gaze fixed unwaveringly upon his grandson.

"No harm?" he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "Look at what your incompetence has wrought!"

"I'm not sure I understand..."

"One thing! I only asked for one thing: keep that mutt of a girl on a leash, but you couldn't even do that! And now the consequences of your weakness are plain for all to see."

"If you would just tell me what is going on..."

"Lord Borros is dead," Otto hissed, his words heavy with accusation. "And Storm's End has retracted their support for the king."

Aemond's breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling at the implications of his words. 

"How... how did he die?"

His grandsire's scowl deepened, his grip tightening on the prince's shoulders as if to punctuate his words with physical force.

"It is said he was set ablaze. And your wife was witnessed at the scene."

Aemond's mind raced, struggling to reconcile the image of his Daenys with the accusations being hurled against her. Just days ago, she had departed in a state of disarray, bruised and broken almost beyond recognition, and now, she stood accused of committing crimes of war. The realization hit Aemond like a thunderbolt, leaving him reeling with a mixture of shock and the slightest bit of awe. 

"The least you could have done, if you were going to let her go, was to ensure that she wasn't fit to cause trouble like this."

I didn't think she was fit enough to be capable of it.

"Father, surely it was not Aemond's fault," Alicent pleaded once again, her words falling like petals on the wind. "The princess must have deceived him in some way. She is to blame for our troubles, not our son."

But Otto Hightower's wrath was not to be assuaged so easily. With a snarl, he turned his fiery gaze upon his daughter, his words dripping with venom.

"I have told you time and time again, that Rhaenyra will not hesitate to put your children to the sword to secure her claim, and yet you refused to let me do the same to her daughter. That girl should have been dealt with from the very beginning, so do not tell me how to handle our affairs now, when you should have done a better job of keeping an eye on the situation."

The dowager queen almost flinched at her father's words, and she bowed her head in silent acquiescence. She would defend her son with every fibre of her being, but now faced with Otto's relentless tirade, she found herself unable to muster a defence for herself. 

"I always knew your... concern for your childhood companion would cause us trouble," Otto continued in a low menacing tone. "And now look what has happened."

"My mother is not at fault here" Aemond declared, trying to divert his grandfather's attention. "I will try to make it right. It is my fault, and I will be the one to fix it."

Without waiting for a response from Otto, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the chamber, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls as he made his way down the corridor. Anger simmered beneath the surface of his outward composure, a seething fire that threatened to consume him from within.

He would not have cared as much if his grandsire's remarks were aimed only at him, but it drove him mad that the target of his admonishes was his mother. His beloved mother, who was already at her wit's end with all that had transpired. As put together and formidable Alicent Hightower may be in her own right, somehow Otto seemed to have the ability to reduce his daughter to a mere child when he spoke to her. 

Mingling with his resolve was a newfound anger, directed not at his grandfather or his mother, but at his wife. For the first time, Aemond Targaryen found himself questioning the woman he had sworn to love and protect, wondering how she could have betrayed him so utterly. She had left him all alone despite knowing how much he needed her and she had left his mother to face the blame for allowing her escape.

Daenys Velaryon found herself in Lord Borros's study, a space she had never before imagined herself entering, let alone reclining within, and yet here she was. Perched upon the window sill, she felt a strange blend of apprehension and curiosity swirling within her. Her legs were propped up, one knee drawn close while the other extended outwards, the warm rays of the sun gently caressing her skin, bestowing a sense of calm amidst the tumultuous atmosphere. With her elbow resting against her knee and her face cradled in her palm, she watched Cassandra Baratheon diligently engrossed in her task at the imposing desk that had long served as her father's domain.

A yawn, slow and involuntary, crept up on Daenys, breaking the stillness of the room. The warmth of the sun, though comforting, seemed to amplify the drowsiness that had settled within her. Daenys blinked languidly, her gaze momentarily drifting from her companion's figure to the sprawling vista beyond the window. 

Her mind wandered, contemplating the purpose behind Cassandra's summons. It had been several days since the incident, and yet, despite the urgency implied by the lady's initial raven, their discussions thus far had been confined to trivial matters. Daenys couldn't help but wonder at the true nature of Cassandra's intentions,

Her mother's decision to send her away had been a bitter pill to swallow, its taste lingering on her tongue like unripe fruit, and despite her fervent protests, Rhaenyra had remained steadfast in her resolve, insisting that it was for the best. Yet, beneath the veneer of maternal concern, Daenys detected a faint undercurrent of dismissal, a subtle suggestion that perhaps her presence at court had become more of a liability than an asset.

A banishment of sorts, a sacrificial lamb offered up to be of service to the Lady of Storm's End, and mollify the clamouring lords back in Dragonstone who would surely be demanding punishment for her recklessness. 

Having watched Cassandra diligently go about her duties over the past few days instilled a newfound sense of gratitude within her; gratitude toward her brother. For all her flaws and failings, Daenys knew that she was no politician, no ruler. She lacked the patience and the fortitude required to navigate the treacherous waters of courtly intrigue, and fortunately, she would not have to. Jace had always been the more suitable one for the task, and he would make an honourable king one day, while Daenys would do everything in her power to ensure that he got that opportunity. 

Meanwhile, Cassandra, her gaze drawn irresistibly to the princess, could not help but observe her in return. Daenys had closed her eye by now, oblivious to the world around her, and to her companion's watchful gaze. Her features were softened in the late afternoon sun, appearing almost ethereal in her repose. Gone was the mask of uncertainty and anguish that had perpetually marred her countenance, replaced instead by an expression of quiet serenity. She was dressed in all black, the only colour Cassandra had seen her wear as of late, as if she was in perpetual mourning, and her snow-coloured hair was bound tightly in a simple plait that hung over her shoulder. 

The Lady of Storm's End could not help but feel a pang of guilt though. It was true that she had summoned Daenys without quite explaining why, but it was difficult to explain that she was driven by a sense of impending doom that she couldn't quite shake. The princess's new epithet as "the Queen's executioner" was reassuring enough though, ripe with the promise that should anyone come to Storm's End looking for trouble, that is exactly what they would find. It also helped that her beast of a dragon lounged in their courtyard for all to see, and as long as Daenys remained a frequent fixture by Cassandra's side, there would be few who would challenge her claim to her father's seat —a place she had schemed for years to finally attain. 

Just then, the door creaked open, breaking the stillness of the study as Cassandra's youngest sister, Floris, slipped inside. The older girl's frown deepened at the intrusion, her brows knitting together in disapproval. 

"Flo, it's rude to enter without knocking."

Floris pouted, a stubborn tilt to her chin as she retorted, "But the rule doesn't apply to me, does it?"

Cassandra sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. It was a constant battle, trying to instill a sense of decorum in her impulsive younger sister. 

"Rules apply to everyone, and we have a guest."

Floris seemed to deflate slightly at her admonishment, her shoulders slumping as she cast a sheepish glance in Daenys's direction. Then she fell silent, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes. 

The moment hung in the air, tense with unspoken words, until the young girl finally mustered the courage to speak. "Is... is she awake?" she whispered to Cassandra, her voice barely more than a breath.

Before Cassandra could respond, Daenys's single eye opened, fixing Floris with a steady gaze that sent a shiver down her spine. She had chosen to forgo the coverings that usually concealed her wound, and the sight of it was unnerving for the child before her. 

Straightening her posture, Floris approached Daenys hesitantly, her earlier bravado replaced by a sense of trepidation.

"Um, Princess," she began, her voice wavering slightly, "if you're not too tired, would you perhaps... spar with me?"

The request hung in the air, fraught with uncertainty, yet tinged with a glimmer of hope. It was a tradition that had become something of a ritual whenever Daenys had visited Storm's End in the past, a chance for the two of them to test their mettle against one another in good fun, for Floris was the only one of the Baratheon sisters who shared Daenys's penchant for such activities. 

As the girl's hopeful gaze bore into her, the princess felt a pang of guilt tug at her heartstrings. She longed to muster the enthusiasm that once fueled her passions, and yet, try as she might, she found herself unable to summon the energy within her, as if a thick fog had settled over her soul, obscuring all traces of joy and vitality as of late.

It was a peculiar sensation, this numbness that seemed to envelop her, leaving her feeling hollow and disconnected from the world around her. Each movement, each action felt like a mere shadow of its former self; a marionette going through the motions of life. 

And yet, as Floris persisted, her eyes alight with a fervent hope that Daenys couldn't bear to extinguish, she found herself unable to refuse. With a heavy heart, she nodded reluctantly, her gaze flickering towards Cassandra for approval.

Cassandra's smile was warm and encouraging, "It would do you good to be active, princess. Perhaps a bit of sparring will help clear your mind."

"I suppose I could spare a moment," Daenys told Floris. "If your sister does not mind sparing me."

"My sister has had you all to herself for days," Floris grumbled. "It is time she let you spend some time with the rest of us."

Daenys marvelled at the young girl's cavalier attitude and briefly wondered if she knew what she had done; if she knew that she had been the one to take her father from her. Perhaps Floris would one day like to whet her blade with Daenys's blood, and Daenys would let her. Everyone was entitled to their revenge after all. She only hoped it would be after she had instated her mother on the Iron Throne. Then she would have nothing more to live for, and would hand over her life gladly to whoever wanted a piece of it. 

It was difficult for the princess to imagine that the little girl in front of her held no desire for retribution. Not everyone was built to hold on to such rage. 

Aemond Targaryen landed his dragon in Storm's End for the second time in his life, his hands itching to do something, and his mind scattered with fleeting thoughts. He had given his grandsire his word that he would try and make this right somehow, and so here he was, making an attempt. 

When he was shown into the main hall, he was surprised to see Lady Cassandra Baratheon seated on the stone throne that her father usually occupied. He tipped his head in respect and opened his mouth to start with his condolences when he received the second surprise of the day. From one of the adjoining corridors stepped out one of the last people he expected to see there. 

Despite his best efforts, the Targaryen prince found himself studying his one-eyed wife, charting the changes in her countenance and in the way she carried herself. The scar on her face stretched gruesomely across her face, the skin still swollen and sutured, and yet she looked calmer than he had seen her look in the longest time. She seemed to have just finished sparring with someone because she was slightly out of breath and sweat plastered her silver hair to her forehead and neck as she sheathed her sword —a shiny new thing that seemed to be made of Valyrian steel. Aemond suddenly felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of her sparring with someone else, at the thought of her in close proximity with anyone who wasn't him. 

He had driven himself mad over her departure, and here she was getting comfortable with another in the home of the man she murdered. 

"My lady, I hope you are in good health. I came to pay my respects...and to offer my deepest condolences for the passing of your father. You must know that you shall have our king's support should you need it, during your time of need," Aemond finally managed to pull his attention away from his wife long enough to address Cassandra Baratheon.

Daenys looked up and her dull eye lit up with renewed fire as a grimace pulled at her lips. She moved her hand to the sword at her hip but was stopped short by Cassandra's sidelong warning gaze.

"Yes, Prince Aemond, I thank you for paying your respects to my father. I am his heir and the head of House Baratheon now so you may take up any further discussions with me."

Aemond frowned slightly. He distinctly remembered Lord Borros saying that should the gods ever grant him a son of his own blood, Storm's End would pass to him. He seemed staunchly against a woman ruling in any right, so it was surprising and doubtful that he would name his daughter heir. Nonetheless, it was not his place to raise the issue, only to attempt to solidify another alliance.

"I also wish to discuss our alliance, my lady. Your father had plans to discuss Prince Jaehaerys's betrothal to your youngest sister."

"Ah yes about that, I am afraid House Baratheon can no longer stand by your brother. I do hope you will understand but I believe that it is in our best interests to support Queen Rhaenyra and her claim. She is after all her father's true heir," Cassandra explained.

"And may I ask the reason behind this sudden change of heart, my lady? It was my understanding that House Baratheon had an agreement with my brother?"

"You must understand that alliances shift all the time. My grandfather's allegiance was to Princess Rhaenys and her kin Rhaenyra, while my Father's was to Prince Aegon. Now mine is to Queen Rhaenyra. It is as simple as that." 

"Whatever Princess Rhaenyra has pledged in return for your alliance, I can promise you that King Aegon can provide you with that and tenfold more. Name your price."

Aemond's shrewd observation did not miss the way Daenys's knuckles tightened into fists when he referred to his half-sister by her true title. 

"You cannot buy our loyalty, my prince. I am afraid you will have to return to your brother with my apology. We cannot support his claim for the Iron Throne, and I understand that this would also mean that the betrothal between my sister and his son is no longer applicable."

"My brother offers stability," the prince tried again, his tone measured despite the bitter words in his mouth. "He offers strength and unity in the face of adversity. With his leadership, there will be peace to the realm."

"I cannot in good conscience ally myself with King Aegon," Cassandra insisted, her voice unwavering. "Queen Rhaenyra has provided unimaginable support to House Baratheon. She has stood by us in our darkest hour, and I will not betray her trust."

Aemond nearly scoffed. 

Provided support? More like brought about your darkest hour. 

As he stood there, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface like molten lava, he felt a surge of bitterness welling up within him. Despite his best efforts, it seemed that his mission to secure an alliance with House Baratheon had ended in failure. The staunch loyalty of Lady Cassandra to Queen Rhaenyra had proven to be an insurmountable obstacle, leaving him with no choice but to return home empty-handed.

He glanced towards Daenys, standing silently beside her companion, her expression inscrutable. He had always known of her close friendship with Cassandra, and it was clear that their bond ran deep, perhaps deeper than he had realized. But in that moment, he couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration towards her, a resentment born of his own failures. He would have to once again face his grandsire's disdain and his mother's disappointment. Worst of all, he would have to face Aegon's glee, because there was nothing his older brother liked more than to see him be reprimanded. 

"Very well my lady. It will be as you wish, but if I may, I do believe you are making a terrible mistake allying yourself with someone who has no hope of successfully claiming the throne. You shall find yourself on the wrong side of history, as my brother already sits upon it. The matter is as good as settled," Aemond conceded, giving her a final tip of his head.

What he did next was foolish and petty, but he did it anyway, spurred on by a desire to get to his wife in the only way he knew how. Steeling himself, Aemond approached Daenys with purpose, his jaw set in a determined line. Daenys stiffened, a subtle tremor betraying the turmoil that churned beneath her composed exterior, as she braced herself for the confrontation that was about to unfold. Her nails dug bloody crescents into her palms, but she forced herself to remain silent. She would not cause another scene. She would not grant him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

With a smug twist of his lips that belied his irritation, the one-eyed prince leaned in close to her, his voice a low murmur meant for her ears alone. "I didn't think you capable of this, but I suppose it is the only lesson my whore of a half-sister has ever been able to impart to her children; how to take things from others," he whispered, his words dripping with disdain.

Crack.

Without a moment's hesitation, Daenys's clenched fist lashed out like lightning, aiming for Aemond's nose with unerring precision. The impact was visceral, a sickening crunch filling the air as he staggered backwards, clutching his bleeding nose with a strangled grunt of pain.

"Daenys!"

Cassandra's indignant exclamation of Daenys's name fell upon deaf ears, lost amidst the swirling maelstrom of anger that consumed her. She would have gladly swallowed down any insult he spewed toward her, but she would not tolerate slander against her mother. It was enough to snap the fragile threads of her restraint. 

"You insolent pig!" she spat, her voice dripping with venom as she advanced upon her husband, her eye blazing with righteous fury. "How dare you speak of my mother in such a manner? She is the queen! Do not speak of her if you cannot do so with respect."

Aemond almost flinched. Pig. She had never called him that before. It brought back old memories and even older scars. She was not so different from her bastard brothers after all, hateful and full of scorn. 

Before anyone could react, Daenys surged forward, her hands seizing Aemond by his collar, slamming him forcefully against the wall behind him with a ferocity that startled even herself. The impact reverberated through the room, the sound of the prince's skull meeting stone echoing like thunder in the tense silence that followed.

Aemond grunted in pain, his hands scrambling to break free from Daenys's iron grip as blood trickled down his chin, mingling with the crimson stain that marred his tunic. His eye widened in shock and disbelief before he schooled his expression into a mask of nonchalance. He found himself more surprised than hurt, his wife's strength no match for his own. He could easily have shaken her off if he so wished but he waited to see what she had to say. He was either arrogant enough to believe that she couldn't hurt him, or foolish enough to believe she wouldn't. 

Most of all, he was curious. He craved her nearness, and if he had to contend with a bloody nose to have it, then so be it. 

"You have some nerve coming here!" Daenys snarled. "To show your face and spew the shit that you just did!"

"I only spoke the truth, my dear wife," Aemond drawled in return. He wished to add another scathing remark, but then thought better of it. He didn't wish to lose his nose altogether. 

"Do not call me that. I am not your anything!"

"We are still bound, you and I. No matter how much you hate it, in the eyes of the Gods, old and new, you are still mine."

And I am yours.

"Do not use the Gods to bend me to your will. It will not make me spare you!"

"No? But she might," Aemond gestured toward the lady of the house who was now watching them with a curious expression. 

Cassandra Baratheon was entertained. She should have called for the guards, should have forced the arguing couple to separate and sent the young prince on his way, but she was curious about something and wished to confirm the status of their unravelling relationship herself. She was not disappointed. 

Meeting Cassandra's gaze, Daenys's grip faltered. She knew that she shouldn't have been causing chaos in someone else's halls but she couldn't help herself. Just the sight of Aemond made her blood boil and seeing him here brought all the awful memories rising back until they choked her. It made her want to choke them right back but she'd settle for strangling him instead.

"I hear you have a shiny new title," the one-eyed prince murmured, much too calm for someone with a possibly broken nose. "The Queen's executioner, hmm? Now, how'd you go about doing that?"

Daenys stiffened. She was not deaf to the rumours that followed her as of late, but she tried not to let it bother her. She had sacrificed her morality already, and there was nothing she wouldn't do for her mother. 

"It did not come steeped in the blood of a child, Kinslayer," she bit out through gritted teeth. 

"It had a blood price all the same. Or do you really expect me to believe that Lord Borros just happened to die peacefully in his bed after handing over his seat to his daughter? You must think me foolish."

"What do you want me to say? That I killed him? It does not matter. It doesn't make Lady Cassandra's claim any less true. In fact, Lord Borros named her his heir with his dying breath," —her lips twisted bitterly as she parroted the words he had once said to her— "You of all people cannot dispute this."

Aemond scoffed, his face hardening a fraction, "Lord Borros has always made his opinions regarding the succession very clear. Everyone knew it. How do you expect anyone to believe his sudden change of heart?"

"If I recall correctly, my grandsire also made his opinions very clear. It is apparent that the people will believe anything."

"All this trouble because you are upset that the nobility is choosing to support my brother's claim to the throne? You can't just go around killing anyone who opposes you."

"No, but you can?"

Aemond rolled his eyes, continuing as if he hadn't heard her, "Now you've gone and painted a target on Lady Cassandra's back for the sake of your pitiful ambitions. Do you think that the rest of her kin are going to sit back and watch her take the position?"

"Do not speak of me as though I am not here," Cassandra finally interrupted. "I think it's best that you leave now, Prince Aemond. You have surely overstayed your welcome, and you shall not find the alliance you seek here."

Aemond kept his attention on his wife, all humour gone from his gaze, "This will not save your family from their fate and all your efforts will have been for nought."

"Like being a peacekeeper saved my brother from his fate? You really ought to leave before I lose my restraint and Lady Cassandra has the unfortunate luck of having to order your blood scrubbed off her floor."

The Targaryen prince was done being playful. His single eye gleamed with a steely resolve as he hummed thoughtfully, his lips curling into a malevolent smirk. With a sudden, brutal force, he wrenched Daenys's hands away from his collar.

As blood trickled down his chin, he swiped an arm across his mouth, smearing the crimson stain across his sleeve with a contemptuous flick. Then he lunged forward, his fingers closing around his wife's arm in a deathly grip.

Daenys inhaled sharply as pain shot through her body, the sensation of Aemond's fingers digging into her still-raw wounds sending a wave of agony crashing over her. She tried to pull away, to break free from his vice-like grasp, but his hold was iron-clad, unyielding in its ferocity.

With a low growl, he began to drag her away towards the exit.

"I will leave, but perhaps I will take along what belongs to me."

"I do not fucking belong to you. You have no right-"

"Of course you do, and I have every right. You are my lawful wife. No one in the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms can dispute this. I think I'll take you back with me. Make a gift of you to my mother. Grandfather has been exceedingly upset with her for allowing you to leave so bringing you back will be a fair exchange for the alliance lost. A princess and her dragon in exchange for the Baratheons. You must understand it is a little disappointing returning empty-handed."

Behind them Cassandra watched. She had no intention of letting the prince leave with what did not belong to him, but once again her inquisitive nature won and she simply waited to see how the one-eyed princess would deal with the matter. 

She wanted to see just how feral the Queen's executioner could be against the man she loved. 

"What? Not so opposed to the idea?" Aemond mused when Daenys stopped resisting, instead walking along with him. 

Although his hold did not loosen, his stance became less rigid, and his arm came into closer range. Before she could think about it, she used the advantage to raise her arm where his skin met hers, baring her teeth to sink them into his flesh. He grunted, his fingers tightening hard enough to form bruises.

"Are you fucking insane! Did you just bite me?" 

Aemond's startled exclamation only triggered her to bite down harder, drawing blood and the two remained locked in their deadly embrace, neither of them easing their grasp. The prince then used his opposite hand to grab a fistful of his wife's hair at the base of her neck. He yanked her head backward and her teeth dislodged from his arm as he pulled away from her momentarily. 

That was all she needed to slip out the thin blade she had started keeping in her left boot, but before she could slam it into him, Cassandra's guards were there between them, while the lady of Storm's End herself was instantly at her side, placing a hand on her shoulder to restrain her. 

"No bloodshed under my roof, princess," she reminded calmly, before turning her attention toward Aemond. "And as for you, I will not have a kidnapping on my lands, my prince. I do not think I would be able to face my Queen if two of her children were lost on my lands. Begone."

A/N: likes/reblogs/comments are highly appreciated, would love to hear your thoughts <3

[ichooseviolence]

Thinking about how Sansa will play a major role in the downfall of the man responsible for kicking off the War of the Five Kings.

And it's not about her becoming a "better schemer" than Littlefinger. She doesn't need to. Littlefinger has been isolating himself more and more through his own scheming, at this point he's doing much of the work for her, and eventually she will realize this. She's already beginning to differentiate between his alter egos, it won't be long before she begins to figure out the different goals and mindsets between Littlefinger and Petyr. And that will definitely require a crazy mind game that she may have to play for a while. This is especially a difficult task as Littlefinger's immediate goals change depending on his situation.

I still see people theorize that she will fully commit to him and his desires, but this the man who is responsible for her father's imprisonment and probably his execution as well. He's responsible for giving her best friend, Jeyne, away to the sadistic monster of Westeros. This is the man who framed Sansa for Joffrey's murder. This is the man who murdered her aunt and is currently attempting to murder her cousin. This is the man who is actively grooming her and sexually molesting her. Sansa will find out about his crimes, maybe all of them or maybe only some. But when the truth is revealed, there will be absolutely no way that she intentionally and willingly remains as his pawn.

"Littlefinger is too smart to be taken down by Sansa." A. Let's stop overestimating this guy. Martin didn't create an invincible mastermind void of weaknesses. He's more of an opportunist and a buyer. Everything he does comes with a price, that includes Sansa. "Now that's deserving of a kiss, don't you think?" B. I'm not suggesting Sansa will take him down singlehandedly. I think she'll do the brunt of the work with her own mind games, but will eventually seek out help from potential allies.

[neverchecking]

More on the topic of reader who knows their power, making me think of y/n even rewarding the chain after they find out the people died. Like whether it’s a handmade gift personalized for that specific Link, or maybe a kiss, or maybe even just praise (could be in a way that’s subtle enough if the chain still doesn’t realize their goddess has a darker side yet, like maybe even just saying how they love the way they smile, how bright their eyes are, etc etc) and it just motivates the chain even more.

But also making me think of y/n (and chain ofc) coming across Bozai and y/n doesn’t even have to try and goad the dude, he’s already just so creepy that y/n wants the dude D E A D. And if all it takes is a wave of her hand or even sniffing to have them ready to tear out someone’s throat and make their goddess happy, imagine y/n fucking crying after Bozai said something a bit too creepy, or maybe his hand wandered. And after Bozai has been dealt with, giving her boys extra rewards for dealing with someone like that ✨

Also Sage my absolute beloved feral asshole 🩷 committing war crimes for his goddess and getting so many kisses as a result

Reader for sure uses praises and kisses to reward their Links. Maybe they get a handmade treat, maybe they get a slip of the tongue. Really, who knows? Depends on what they do and how fast they did it.

Lmao imagine a point system. Minus ten points to Sky who left a bloody trail, but plus three to Twilight who used Wolfie to throw them off-

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO BRING UP BOZAI

Like, okay, imagine Reader who is well aware of their power, but they come across Bozai. Bozai who moves too quick and speaks over them too loudly for them to do anything. Who gets too close and lets his hands get too bold.

Now, imagine Reader does the unthinkable.

And bursts into tears. It's all over for that man, I swear. Like all it takes is that one shaky gasp, yk the one, and all Links are scooping Reader into their little huddle.

Her tears are wiped and goodies are offered, anything to see their Goddess shine once more. And maybe Reader tries to feign like it was no big deal, knowing that would just rile up the Links even more. Like who was this...PARASITE?! Where did he get off dressing you down like that and making you doubt your self worth?!

Half of them, prolly the 'softer' half (Maybe Sky, Hyrule and Wind, possibly legend depending on his mood) stay back while the others go after Bozai go run some errands.

This is like the only time you will see the Triplets (Sage Wild and Cal) work together. Their the best trackers. They find him in absolutely no time. And while Sage is quick to want to snap this pathetic bastards neck, Time pulls him back. He made their goddess cry. That would be too quick, too merciful of a death.

Their gonna make sure the punishment fits the crime.

And this is a great crime.

Who knew errands could take hours at a time?

[savefrog]

Hi! I shouldn't assume that being a longtime follower means I know you but I gotta unfollow anyone engaging in "vote blue no matter who" rhetoric and figured I'd say so on my way out. You have every right to do whatever w electoral politics and I agree there's a level of pragmatism to voting. But like, are you saying that about the USA Dems?? They're bombing Gaza to the point of genocide as we speak! Even if you're not proud of that fact, what would be the aim of such a vote? I doubt anyone of any party committing war crimes can be pushed by freely given votes, no?

You're welcome to unfollow. But essentially I'm entirely on the pragmatism end here.

Me saying vote blue in this case is not going "woohoo ok dems i love everything you do, do whatever!!!!"

it's a matter of "red quite LITERALLY wants to remove all ability to protest and say this shit is wrong".

see summary of Trump on shutting down the ability to protest

blue is not entirely clean on this matter either but i would take getting run over by a motorbike over getting run over by a truck.

I would like to preserve the ability to say the government sucks ass and while I totally get where people are coming from when they don't want to vote dem...I'd say that abstaining from voting to "send a message" is akin to complete silence in this current election climate especially considering the stakes, and there are a lot of other ways to get a message across that isn't passively allowing the literal white supremacist in - who by the way said BIDEN of all people was too soft on Palestine and that he wanted Israel to hurry up and "finish the job":

source (It is also recorded on various other news sources)

Though frankly I agree with this quote here, from an article that is also critical of Harris and Biden:

“Trump would be the worst,” Asmaa Nimilaat, 50, said from a hospital where thousands of people are sheltering in Deir el-Balah, an area in central Gaza. “But any candidate that becomes president will not support Palestinians.”

The USA as an entire machine is so heavily invested in Israel it's hard to imagine a pro-palestinian president ever being elected. That is why I said the election is "picking your opponent".

The ideal situation is a complete rework of the US. As much as not voting FEELS like protest here...it is not going to do anything meaningful in this regard. It is indistinguishable from a non-vote from someone who couldn't get off work or was screwed out of an accessible voting location by red bullshit or just skipped out of apathy.

But we can at least not let the guy in whose ideal is to restructure the government to only allow fascist kiss ups in, heavily criminalize any opposing voices and militarize against them, has already set a new standard to allow the executive branch to do "What the fuck crime ever", and continue to use poc and lgbt in the US as a scapegoat and target of violence to radicalize his people. And then CONTINUE to protest and make pressure.

By all means I'd say no matter someone's plans for the actual voting day, TELL democractic nominees you're undecided and will not vote if they don't call for a ceasefire that lasts more than 10 minutes.

You can do whatever, but im personally not interested in a situation I see as letting conservatives take what is already bad and making it 3000 times worse and 80x less improvable and I guess I would encourage others if they can stomach it to make that same consideration rather than treat the election like a moral pageant. If they truly believe not voting will actually send a message, cool. But I want people to think really hard on whether it will. And then for the love of god don't stop at just voting.

If anything I encourage people to vote dem in state elections if only because there are dems right now trying to make ranked voting a thing, so that we can finally be free from having to vote dem at all and actually make it viable to pressure them in ballots!!!!

[rottngdeer]

Bloodsuckers — 3

Pairings || Hannibal Lecter x Vampire!Female!Reader

Part 3/?

Contents/Warnings || Graphic depictions of death, cannibalism, Hannibal being Hannibal, blood consumption/feeding, light smut at the end

Authors Note || going to start incorporating Will a bit more— might have some plans with him. and sorry for the delayed chapter !! been busy because of winter break :) happy holidays everyone !

“Why them?” You asked as you wiped blood off of your mouth. Hannibal looked down at you on the ground, knelt over a young man you had just drained. Hannibal was wearing a full plastic suit over one of his normal suits, which had small splatters of blood in it from you smashing the young man’s head on the table a few times before you had your fill.

“He was rude to me,” Hannibal’s nonchalant answer was followed up by talk about what organs to remove and what he wanted to cook with them.

The reply was simply yet empty, leaving you with even more questions. You knew not to ask. You also knew that when he started to talk about how to remove organs and how to cook them, it was more for him to talk and you to listen, not for you to follow. He hadn’t let you touch or cook any organs, but he found joy in feeding them to you, despite your protests and reminders that you didn’t need actual food. He would just insist until you relented. You knew that you could just wait this out— Hannibal would die and you would move to a different place before that happened. You just needed the blackmail to stop first.

—

Your birthday finally came. It meant nothing to you but everything to Will and Hannibal. Hannibal insisted on throwing you a dinner party, which you objected to, but he said he would allow you to invite only who you wanted, and he would keep human meat out of it all. You accepted.

Every time you looked at Hannibal, you wondered how such an intelligent man could commit such sadistic crimes. You also wondered how he hadn’t been caught yet. Hell, his name rhymed with cannibal. Thankfully, you knew that Will was suspicious of Hannibal. Despite his instability, you knew it didn’t cloud Wills judgment. You hoped that Will and Hannibal being together around you wouldn’t cause any issues, and that you wouldn’t think about your recent kill with Hannibal too much.

You arrived at your party, being greeted by a kiss on the hand from Hannibal and then a hug from Alana. Alana led you to the dining room, where there was a long table of foods and drinks, along with a separate table filled with gifts, predominantly from Hannibal and Will. Will was sitting anxiously at the table with Bedelia and Jack when he saw you come in. He shot up from his seat and went to you, hugging you and whispering something into your ear that made you giggle. Everyone saw that and thought it was cute, but only Bedelia saw the look in Hannibal's eyes as he stared at you and Will.

You all had a nice dinner of good food (you assumed), laughter, and a genuinely good atmosphere. Hannibal had pre poured you a glass of watered down blood before the other guests arrived, and had drizzled some over your meal, which he also prepared separately. When you noticed these things, you had reached your hand under the table and gave Hannibal's knee a small squeeze since he was seated beside you. When he looked at you, you gave him a small thankful smile. While it was a genuine gesture for you, it made something swirl deep inside of him. Of course when gifts came around, Bedelia, Jack, and Alana had given you small meaningful gifts, but Will and Hannibal were at war with each other, giving you more gifts than you admittedly wanted, but appreciated nevertheless. At the end, Alana managed to distract Will from his anger over the gifts, while Hannibal pulled you away into an upstairs room.

“I have one last gift for you,” He told you once you were both in the room with the door shut. He shrugged off his blazer and rolled up one of his sleeves. You looked at him, confused.

“I’ve found out the statistics of my blood type, it’s AB negative, only making up 1% of the population. I assume you don’t get this much considering he statistics. This is my final gift to you“ He held out his arm to you.

You gently took hold of his arm, “You're sure about this?“ When he gave you a nod, and you hesitantly leaned down. You sunk your teeth into his arms, your fangs piercing through and beginning to extract blood at a steady pace. God, it was good. You can’t remember the last time you had even tasted it. You only did this for a minute or less, not wanting to take too much and make Hannibal pass out. “Thank you,“ you panted when you pulled away, feeling almost intoxicated. Hannibal could tell, and that’s exactly what he wanted.

He rolled his sleeve back up and put his blazer back on, smoothing it out, “I will allow you to do this a few times a month, as long as our arrangement continues.”

“You’re a strange man, Hannibal. I’m not doing much of anything for you in return. You’re perfectly capable of killing.”

“There is one other thing you can do in return.”

“What?”

Hannibal stepped close to you, grabbing your chin with one hand and leaning his head down, kissing you. You were a bit taken aback but returned the kiss after a few seconds. A heavy make out session ensued with Hannibal’s hands grabbing at your waist and your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as your tongues battled for dominance. Hannibal was the first to move away, breaking the kiss and letting go of you.

“What’s wrong?” Your hands slid down his shoulders and to his forearms.

“We can’t leave the guests waiting for too long, can we?”

“You tease.”

“After you,” Was all he said, motioning to the door. You left the room, straightening yourself out and walking back downstairs to the small party. Despite being around these other people, your mind was racing with Hannibal.

[sephirthoughts]

Father: Verb

Epilogue (1 of 2)

Summary: 11 year-old WMD Sephiroth is assigned a new handler/bodyguard, named Vincent Valentine.

Hooray, first epilogue!!!! There are two because this one got a little heavier than I intended. Stay tuned for the second epilogue, which is the fun one!!

rating: teen and up

(prev chapter and ao3 linked at bottom)

When the first dawn of their new lives broke, they were lying together on the narrow bed of a cheap inn in Kalm, where Vincent had carried Sephiroth, after their flight from the Manor. Sephiroth’s face was buried in Vincent’s leather chest armor, which had returned with his human form, and his arms were wrapped tightly around Vincent’s narrow waist.

The boy actually hadn’t let go of him, since they arrived, not even allowing Vincent to go out and purchase food for him. He seemed to be afraid that if he let Vincent out of his sight for a single moment, he’d disappear forever. He’d eventually drifted back off to sleep, but if Vincent so much as stirred, he’d murmur in protest and constrict his arms, like a little python.

Not that Vincent had any complaints. He wasn’t even certain he was allowed this much happiness, as he lay contentedly, in the hazy twilight of early morning, listening to his son’s soft, even breathing. Every once in a while, he would lean down to press kisses to the top of his head, breathing deeply of his warm scent, reminding himself that this was real. That it was all over. That they were free and they were together.

Violet turned to yellow-gold, as the rising sun pushed lazy shadows across the floor, patiently herding them toward noon. Vincent was still holding his sleeping son, watching the fairy-glimmers of sunlight, that slipped in through the eyelets in the curtains, shimmer and glow as they were captured and refracted by Sephiroth's brilliant, silver hair. 

Sephiroth finally stirred and blinked about, blearily. “Vincent? What…what time is it?”

“Almost noon,” Vincent answered. “This is officially the latest you’ve ever slept. Congratulations.”

“How do you know what time it is? From the position of the sun? Is that a Turk thing?”

“I can see the clock, from here.”

“Oh,” he yawned. “Do we have to get up, now?”

“We don’t have to do anything. Stay in bed as long as you like. I figure you’ve earned about fourteen-hundred sleeping in days, since you’ve never had a weekend off, before.”

“You’ll stay with me, though, right?”

“I have nowhere to be.”

Sephiroth nuzzled his face back into Vincent, like a cat, and lay silent for a few minutes, before he looked up at him again. “Well, now I’m too excited about having a day off. I can’t go back to sleep.”

“Do you want to get up?”

“Mm, not yet. Can we just…lie here and talk?”

“Alright. What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“Yes, a few things. First of all, how did you know?”

“About what?” Sephiroth asked, though he knew very well what Vincent meant.

“About Chaos, your mother, where to find me, everything.”

Sephiroth peered up into Vincent’s face. “I…was possessed by time-traveling future versions of myself, who showed me all their memories from my potential futures. That’s how I found out you’d never abandoned me, at all, and Hojo had imprisoned you under the manor, while Shinra sent me out to commit war crimes, and be the poster boy for recruiting other innocent children into their SOLDIER program.”

“I see,” Vincent said, furrowing his brow thoughtfully.

Sephiroth blinked. “You believe me?”

“Yes. Why would I not believe you?”

“I guess, I expected some skepticism, at such a fantastic claim.”

Vincent very nearly smiled. “Seph, I’m the undead vessel of an ancient demon who can kill gods, and you are my superhuman son, conceived in a lab, using extra-terrestrial DNA. A bit of possession by time-traveling future selves seems the least fantastic thing about us.”

“But it wasn’t Jenova’s DNA that conceived me. You know that, right? It was introduced in the womb, to alter me, after the fact. My conception was purely human. I—I’m human.”

Seeing the boy’s eyes redden, Vincent wrapped him up tightly in his arms. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry. Of course you’re human.”

“You are, too. No matter what you think,” Sephiroth said, his voice muffled by Vincent’s cloak. 

Borne down by the weight of their mutual trauma, the two lapsed back into silence. For a long while, they simply lay in each other’s arms, listening to the birds chirping outside, and the people on the street below, going about their daily business. Sephiroth had never felt so much like a monster, so far removed from the rest of humanity, as when he was exposed to human beings, living their peaceful, mundane lives. That feeling was magnified, tenfold, now that he was free to live as he chose. Would he and Vincent ever have such a life? Could they? He hardly dared to hope.

“Your future versions,” Vincent said, drawing him from his ruminations. “Are they still…in there?”

Sephiroth shook his head. “No. They stopped existing, once we broke fate. I will not miss them. Living so many lives, all at once, was exhausting.”

“But you still have those memories? From all the futures?”

“Some. The futures my others came from don’t exist anymore, so most of the memories are fading quickly. But it’s not like I have amnesia. I remember that those things happened, I’m just losing the memory of actually having been there, in those times and places. The others wanted me to be free of fate, and live a life of my own choosing, not following their paths. But, a man choosing a path and one stumbling onto it may still wind up at the same destination. So, they left me with guideposts, to help me avoid the patterns of events, that led to that terrible future Lucrecia showed you, in her visions.”

“And you’re certain you can trust them?”

“Yes. But it’s not just because they’re me. That would be a foolish reason to trust them, since I know myself. I trust them because of the oldest one—my final version. He hardly spoke, but he was the strongest. When his body died, he won a battle of wills with the lifestream, and kept his consciousness intact. That was how he discovered the way to defy destiny and travel back.

“During his life, he overpowered and silenced Jenova, and got free of her will. Only, it was too late. He restored his sanity, only to fully comprehend what a monster he’d become. That is the one thing, I will never forget, as long as I live. His…anguish. His abject despair and desolation, when he looked back, with clear eyes, upon what he had done, under the influence of her poison, and saw the rivers of blood, in his wake.

“I will never forget the agony, that tore his soul apart. His desperation, to find some way to make it right, to heal the wounds dealt by his own hands, to undo it all. No version of me would ever willingly walk back toward that fate. That is the reason they all agreed, one by one, to die, in order to have a chance at changing it.

“And now, they are me. I am all of us. I am Sephiroth, unbound by fate. I will take this precious gift I have been given, and dedicate my life to protecting this world and its innocent children, from the cruelty of gods and monsters.”

“You sound like such a grown man,” Vincent observed, with a sigh. “So wise and circumspect. I don’t know if you even need me, anymore.”

Sephiroth’s slit pupils contracted and he sat bolt-upright, grabbing Vincent’s arm with both hands. All at once, that look of aged weariness and hard-won wisdom evaporated from his face, and he was just a fourteen-year-old child, again. “No. No. Never say that, Vincent. I need you. I’ll always need you. You can’t…you can’t ever leave me. You’re my special person. You are the one I want to be with. P—please don’t leave me. Please don’t—”

“Seph, breathe,” Vincent interrupted firmly. “I’m not going to leave you. Not ever.”

“But you said that before and then they took you! It was our birthday! And they took you away from me! What if they try to take you away again!”

The boy was spinning out into a panic attack, shaking and chest heaving with rapid, shallow breaths, squeezing his forearm in a white-knuckle grip, that would’ve pulverized the bones of a normal human.

Vincent sat up and threw his cloak back. “Come on. Bite. Just like when you were little.”

Sephiroth lunged forward and bit into the leather, clawing Vincent’s sides, hanging on for dear life, until his head stopped spinning, and the iron bands stopped constricting around his chest. Then he loosened his grip and melted into Vincent, with a shuddering sob.

“It’s ok. It’s ok,” Vincent murmured. “There’s no one who can take me away, anymore. No one who can tear us apart. If they want to try, let them come. All the armies in the world would break on us, and be swept away like dry leaves before a gale.”

“That’s…very poetic,” Sephiroth sniffled.

“I think I read it in a book, once. I don’t remember the book.”

“Thank you, for helping me calm down. I’m better now,” he said, wiping his red-rimmed eyes with the back of his hand. “Sorry for acting like a baby.”

Vincent’s throat constricted with a tight ache, hearing the boy use these words again. “Hojo berated you for crying, didn’t he. Did he call it acting like a baby? You’ve said that before.”

Sephiroth lowered his blue-green eyes and nodded.

“Seph, showing emotion doesn’t mean you’re acting like a baby. Even if it did, you are a child. You may have grown-up memories from alternate realities and a supergenius intellect, but you’re still just a little boy. You have every right to be one. You are allowed to cry. You are allowed to be scared and sad and confused and angry. You are allowed to make mistakes and not be perfect, and know that you’ll still be loved and protected and cared for. No matter what. You don’t have to be strong, for me, Sephiroth. You don’t have to be a hero, for me. Just be my son. That’s all.”

Tears were rolling down Sephiroth’s cheeks again, and despite Vincent’s admonition, he kept brushing them away, as if he was ashamed of them. Vincent drew him right back into his arms and held him, rocking him gently, till the tears naturally subsided. Even when Sephiroth pulled away, eventually, he took Vincent’s hand in his and fidgeted with the brass gauntlet, unwilling to break physical contact.

“Vincent…is it alright if I call you father?” he asked timidly, without raising his head. “It—it’s ok if you don’t like it. Just tell me and I won’t.”

“What?” Vincent said, taken aback. “Of course you can, why would you…wait, is that why you’ve been calling me Vincent since we left the manor? You were afraid I wouldn’t like it if you called me father?”

Sephiroth shrugged, still looking down at the gauntlet, as he straightened Vincent’s fingers and curled them, observing how the articulated plates moved and interlocked. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.”

“Where is this coming from, Seph? Why would you think I’d want to distance myself from you, after everything we’ve been through together?”

“I know it’s biologically true, that you are my father, but you never asked for any of this. Lucrecia stole a piece of you,and made you a father, without your consent. She impregnated herself, with the express purpose of using your child as experimental material. If I were you, I’d feel betrayed. Violated. I’d be furious. So, I would understand if you’d rather not be reminded of…of what she did to you.”

“I’ll never understand why she did what she did,” Vincent sighed. “I knew all along that she was a scientist, first, and that she loved her work, above all else, but I never imagined that would extend to her own child. I don’t know if I feel betrayed and violated. Maybe I should. Maybe I should be angry. Mostly, I just feel regret and pity for her.”

“What happened between you?” Sephiroth asked gingerly.

Vincent shook his head. “It’s…complicated. It was never anything more than friendship, technically. I know she at least partially reciprocated the attachment I felt to her, but everything between us was implicit and contextual. Then, when she told me she’d made her choice, and it wasn’t me, I backed off. All I wanted was for her to be happy, even if her happiness didn’t have a place in it for me. Looking back on everything, now, I think she wanted me to fight for her. But I didn’t understand that, then. I believed standing aside was the right thing to do, so I did.”

“It was, though,” Sephiroth contended. “You can’t blame yourself for not pursuing her, against her stated wishes. You can’t blame yourself for not fighting for her, when she told you she didn’t want you to. It wouldn’t have been you.”

Vincent smiled ruefully. “Because I’m a coward?”

“Because you’re a kind and considerate person!” Sephiroth returned, warming quickly in defense of his father. “What is wrong with that? Since when is accepting another person’s decisions and respecting their stated boundaries cowardly? She made her choice, and you respected it. It wasn’t your fault she didn’t tell you the truth!”

“But, I should have known,” Vincent said, wavering. “I should have known her well enough to grasp the subtext, and understand what she really wanted.”

“Would you have done it? If you understood what she wanted from you? Would you have fought for her?”

Vincent closed his mouth tightly and looked away, for a long beat. Then he very slowly shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t have.” As soon as he’d said it, he let out a shaky breath, as if even pronouncing the words had cost him a tremendous effort. But now that he’d finally got them out, a dam seemed to have broken, inside him. “She…hurt me. She chose another man. If she loved me, she—she should have chosen me. I should have been good enough for her. It would have wounded my pride, too deeply, to lower myself to fighting over her, like a dog over a bone. I deserved better, than to be pitted against her lover, in a contest for her affection. At least, I thought I did.”  

“You did! You did deserve better! It’s not wrong for you to have a bottom line. She had no right to expect you to sacrifice your dignity and self-esteem chasing after her.”

“The worst of it is that she never told me the truth. Not even when she tried to force my hand, and said that if she was the only one concerned, then she’d go ahead with the fetal experiments.” Vincent’s brow darkened and his eye flashed gold. “She gave me that ultimatum, while continuing to let me believe you were his child! What sane man would have pressured a woman to leave her lover, whose child she was ostensibly carrying, when she had already refused him? What game was she playing? How many dragons did she want me to slay, to prove my love? Did she want me to get on my knees and beg her not to ruin her life?”  

This was the angriest Sephiroth had ever seen Vincent, and he was stunned to silence. The sudden change in the gentle, softspoken man was akin to watching a beaten dog break its chain, and suddenly realize it was a wolf. Hackles up, fangs bared and bristling—a proud and beautiful creature. It was breathtaking.

“I—I’m sorry,” Vincent faltered, misunderstanding Sephiroth’s expression. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No more apologizing!” Sephiroth said vehemently, grabbing and tugging his hands, to stop him withdrawing into himself. “You didn’t frighten me, at all. I was just surprised to see you finally expressing anger. To be honest, I was beginning to worry that you’d keep turning it all inward and punishing yourself forever, without admitting that what Lucrecia did to you was wrong.”

“But, it wasn’t all your mother’s fault. If it weren’t for Hojo—”

“We’re not talking about him, we’re talking about Lucrecia,” Sephiroth interrupted, pointedly using her name, rather than the maternal designation. “Getting angry isn’t enough. You have to admit to yourself, that the blame for what she did rests on her, alone. She was a grown woman, years older than you. She made her choices with her eyes open. She didn’t need her twenty-seven year-old bodyguard to tell her what she was doing was wrong. She knew it was, and she did it anyway. She lied to you and violated you!

“And then what? She expected you to force yourself into the situation, in order to save her from herself? How were you supposed to navigate the tangled web she wove, when she didn’t even get out of it alive? That doesn’t mean you can’t forgive her, but you can’t keep finding ways to excuse her. Lucrecia wasn’t a saint, and she wasn’t a victim of circumstances. She was a person who made a conscious choice to destroy all three of our lives.”

Vincent’s shoulders slumped, and he gave a long, weary sigh. “I…I didn’t know you felt that way. For what it’s worth, I think she really wanted to be your mother.”

“Then she should have done better,” Sephiroth said icily. “I wasn’t a person, to her, when she decided to use me as a test subject. I was a biological process, that she could manipulate in the name of science, with no thought to the human repercussions.”

“But…she did change her mind,” Vincent attempted. “She regretted her mistakes. I doubt she ever suspected that Hojo would take you away, and never even let her hold you. By the time she realized what he really was, it was too late. She was trapped by what she’d done, and it all spun out of her control. When I saw her image in my dreams, she said that she couldn’t live with the guilt, anymore, after all the suffering she’d caused. She begged me to forgive her.”

“She also asked you to kill me.”

“Yes. That is why I doubt what I saw was really Lucrecia, in the true sense. It was probably more like an echo of her will, filled with her lingering regrets. But whatever the truth of the matter, she was still your mother. I hope you can forgive her, one day.”

“You hope that I’ll forgive her because you loved her. I didn’t even know her. All I know is what she did to us. Maybe, one day, I’ll have it in me to forgive her. But right now, she is no more a mother to me, than that thing in the mako reactor was.”

Vincent nodded his understanding, despite the pain his son’s bitter words caused him. “It’s up to you, and I won’t press you.” He paused. “But Seph, no matter what she did or how I feel about her, I would never harbor any negative feeling toward you, because of the choices your mother made. You’re the only good thing that any of us ever did. The way it came about was ugly and complicated and full of misery, but you are my son. You are the only person in the world who matters to me. Of course I want you to call me father.”

Sephiroth sighed, leaning into Vincent’s embrace again. “I never wanted anything more than I wanted you to be my father. But I feel like…I don’t deserve to be that happy. I keep expecting to find out there was some mistake, and I’m not your son at all. That I’m just a freak, with no connection to anyone, except a dead monster.”

“Well, that can’t possibly be true. Even if Hojo could have faked the DNA profiles he showed me, you look just like me. I tried to downplay it, because of his threats, but there’s a reason people always assume we’re father and son, despite our hair and eyes being the exact opposite colors.”

“That woman at the bakery didn’t. I forgot to tell you, because we ran into that boy and his mother. She thought you were my lover. She said we must be a fated pair!”

Vincent’s eyebrows went up. “Well. That’s certainly flattering to me. Except, you’re not a girl.”

“Oh, please. As if that matters to you.”

“Excuse me? What are you implying, young man?”

“Don’t forget, I’ve seen the future, father. I know all about you,” Sephiroth said, looking very wise and mysterious.

“What does that mean? I’m not—I don’t…do I?”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not telling. First of all, that would be weird. Second of all, it might be totally different, now. We rewrote destiny, after all.”

“Well then why bring it up?” Vincent groused. “Just to tease me?”

“Actually, I brought it up to break the ice. I wanted you to know that I’m aware your…horizons are broader than you let on, as far as gender and attraction. I don’t want you to feel you have to hide it from me. And also, I wanted to tell you right from the beginning that I don’t like girls and I never will. Just to spare us the awkward conversation, when I bring home a boyfriend.”

“B—boyfriend?!” Vincent sputtered. “You’re fourteen! No boyfriends!! Not till you’re twenty—no, thirty!”

“Tch. You’re such an old prude.”

“You think I won’t make it forty? Keep sassing me and find out!”

“Alright, alright, calm down before you turn into Chaos,” Sephiroth laughed. “I was just joking, anyway. I won’t be dating or anything like that. I’m waiting for my soul mate.”

Vincent squinted at him. “Soul mate? I didn’t realize you were the romantic type.”

“No, I mean I am literally waiting for him,” Sephiroth clarified. “I know he exists, because I have seen him with my own eyes. He was my soul’s anchor point, in every timeline. Our connection to each other is the reason experiencing all the other futures didn’t destroy my mind. I’m going to protect him and take care of him, this time. I will never let anything bad happen to him. I also plan to marry him, one day. He just happens to be far too young for that kind of thing, at the moment.”

“You’re far too young for that kind of thing,” Vincent grumbled, crossing his arms. “Maybe slow down on the marriage talk, before you give your father a heart attack.”

“Nice try, old man. We both know you don’t have a heart.”

“That’s because you took it.”

“Speaking of that. I should probably give it back,” Sephiroth said sheepishly.

Vincent held his hand up. “No. I meant what I said. Keep it for me.”

“You…you want me to keep your heart?” Sephiroth’s eyes misted over again, and his voice trembled with emotion. “You really trust me that much?”

“Of course I do. There’s no better place for it, that I can think of, than with you. I’ve thought about it, since we left the manor, and if you’re literally holding my heart, you won’t have to worry, anymore, when we’re apart. You’ll always be able to call me back to you, if you need me.”

Sephiroth nodded, through his tears, reflexively laying a hand on his heart. As he did, he felt the familiar shape, through his shirt. “My locket. But I gave it to Chaos, in the reactor.”

“I thought you’d probably want it, so I put it back on you, while you were sleeping.”

Sephiroth pulled the locket out of his shirt and looked at it, for a moment. Then he unclasped the chain and took it off. Rocking up on his knees, he carefully fastened it around Vincent’s neck.

Vincent balked. “Seph, I can’t take this. This is your—”

“No, you have to take it,” Sephiroth insisted, laying one hand over the locket, on Vincent’s chest, and the other over his heart, on his own. “You gave me your heart. Since I can’t cut mine out and give it to you, this is the next best thing. It’s the only thing I’ve ever had that matters to me. It represented love and family, to me, till I met you. Now that I have my father, I don’t need to cling to an old picture of my mother, for comfort. So, I want you to keep it for me, as a symbol of our love and trust.”

Vincent hesitated, then dipped his chin in solemn assent. “Then I will take good care of it, for you.”

“I think it may have belonged to your father, anyway. There’s a V engraved on the inside.”

“Huh. That’s odd,” Vincent frowned, opening the locket and holding it up to inspect it. “It does look like the V from our family seal. But my father would never have worn something silver. He was allergic.”

“It’s platinum, not silver. The chain, too.”

“I see,” Vincent said, with an odd expression. Then he repeated it, in a lower voice. “I see.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing important. Just an answer to an old question,” he said, tucking the locket away under his cloak. “Now, it’s about time we got you something to eat. You must be starving.”

“Not really. I can go days without food, before I start feeling it,” Sephiroth chirped.

Vincent’s iris flashed a warning gold. “And you know that because Hojo…”

“Father, he’s dead,” Sephiroth said, putting his hands on Vincent’s shoulders. “I cut off his head, myself. There’s no use wasting any more anger on him.”

His wrath subsided immediately, along with the gold ember in his eye. Then he was embarrassed that he could so easily be pacified, simply by being called ‘father’ and touched affectionately by his son, and scowled disconsolately, which made Sephiroth laugh again.

“Well, whether you feel hungry or not, I’m going to get you food,” Vincent announced, reasserting his authority. “It’s unhealthy not to eat, especially while you’re still growing.”

“Alright, but I’m coming with you.”

“Seph, you know we can’t risk you being seen. Your appearance is too distinctive.”

“Said the man who wears a bright-red cloak and shiny brass armor everywhere.”

“No one is going to be looking for me, and if they were, they’d have no reason to believe you and I would be together. Most of Shinra don’t even know I was at the manor. Besides, I know how to move around unseen.”

“I know how to—”

“Without mind control.”

Sephiroth made a sour face. “It’s not my fault people are weak-willed and easy to manipulate.”

“That’s true, but it’s still not nice to do it, if you don’t absolutely have to. How do you know there won’t be any permanent side-effects?”

“Hmph. Fine, I won’t go about scrambling the brains of the riff-raff, if you’re going to be so strict about it. Oh! I know! I can just disguise myself! So much has happened, that I forgot it’s one of the abilities my others left me.”

To Vincent’s horrified astonishment, the boy’s body suddenly warped and distorted, and he found himself standing face to face with…himself. Or rather, an identical copy, down to every detail. “Seph, this is…very weird. Is that really what I look like?”

“It is,” Vincent’s double said, with Sephiroth’s voice. “I can’t change my voice, though. That’s a flaw. Also, I can’t keep it up for extended periods. No more than a couple of hours, at a time.”

“That’s a pretty remarkable talent. I don’t see how you being me helps, though. We can’t both go out like this.”

“I just wanted to impress you with what I can do.” Sephiroth grinned, as his body shifted back to normal, only his hair was still jet black and he still had Vincent’s crimson eyes and ashen skin. “How’s this? No one will be looking for Sephiroth Valentine.”

That shot struck home, of course, and Vincent was thoroughly defeated. Just as he’d said, Shinra really couldn’t do much to them, even if they did send an army. But they could make things annoying for them, and they certainly wouldn’t bat an eye at hurting any civilians that happened to be in the way. He and Sephiroth weren't in hiding, per se, but it was better not to invite their notice.

Down the street from the inn, was a pub he’d visited many years ago. It had since been converted into a bakery, featuring local baked goods and some light lunch fare, such as sandwiches and salads. Because of Vincent’s knack for fading from sight, the beautiful boy with him attracted many curious gazes, but no eyes fell on him, despite the crimson cloak and brass armor. After they entered the bakery, he leaned down and whispered something to Sephiroth. The boy nodded, and Vincent actually vanished, leaving him to peruse the pastries in the glass case, alone.

Outside, Vincent alit on the ridgepole of a rooftop, crouched like a stone gargoyle, sighting the streets below for about ten seconds, before he sprang away, dissolving into crimson blur and rematerializing in an alleyway, a street over, with the massive barrel of Cerberus pressed to the base of a man’s skull, below his black ponytail. The man’s gloved hands went up slowly.

“Special Agent Valentine. Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.” He sounded young. Very young. His voice was steady, but too stiff and proper. Concealing his nervousness behind cold formality. Vincent had been the exact same way, when he was a rookie.

“Not a Turk anymore,” Vincent growled.

“Still, I’d appreciate it, if you didn’t kill my agent,” another voice said, behind him. “For old time’s sake.”

Vincent pulled back the hammer with an audible click. “What the hell do you people want with me?”

“Come on, Valentine,” the voice behind him said, with an edge of impatience. “Point that gun where it belongs. Leave the kid out of it.”

“He’s a Turk, not a kid.”

“He’s fourteen.”

Vincent’s eye twitched. Then he drew the gun away and holstered it with an annoyed snarl. “Shinra just can’t stop turning children into killers, can they.”

The boy turned around, glancing up at Vincent, before looking to the man behind him for orders. Vincent was surprised to see a Wutaian, even more so one who wore a religious symbol so openly as this one did, with a bindi dot on his forehead. The boy was clearly surprised by Vincent’s face, too, though there was no telling which element of it he found more startling than which. 

“You can go, Tseng,” the other man said. “Agent Valentine and I need to have a chat.”

The boy looked up at Vincent again, his eyes lingering for a second or two, as if he wanted to say something, before he turned on his heel and walked briskly away.

“Vincent.”

“Veld.”

The two men studied one another for a long beat. Vincent was a good four inches taller, but Veld was stockier and appeared much older, with grey streaks in his dark-brown hair, and a perpetually rugged look about him, despite his smart black suit.

“Holy hell, you look exactly the same,” Veld said, at last, shaking his head.

“You have aged,” Vincent replied flatly. “Since when does the Director of the Administrative Research Division track down targets in the field, himself.”

“Since the target is you, you fuckin’ asshole!” Veld exploded. “They told me you died, Vince! Where the hell have you been for a decade and a goddamn half!”

“I did die,” Vincent sneered. “I spent most of the past fourteen years in a coffin.”

“Real fuckin’ funny. If you're not going to—” He broke off, catching sight of Vincent’s gold iris, which he could see faintly glowing, now that it was in the shadow of his shaggy bangs. “What…is that? What did they do to you?”

Vincent turned his head away. “Nothing you want to know about. Answer my question. What do you people want with me?”

“Officially? Recovery. You’re a missing Shinra asset. In reality, I don’t know if I have the manpower it would take to haul your ass back to Shinra.”

“You really think you could bring me in, even if you had brought all your men?”

“God damn it, Vince, listen to me. I’m telling you I’m not trying to bring you in. There’s too much going on with the conflict in Wutai, and we’re already stretched paper thin, so the president doesn’t have the bandwidth to worry about you. I pushed back on hunting you down, and he agreed that it’s enough to just have you surveilled, for now, to make sure you’re not an immediate threat to Shinra.”

Vincent tilted his head. “And what does he plan to do, if I am?”

“Did you become more of a prick, in the past decade and a half?” Veld asked, eyeing him cagily. “I seem to recall you being a lot more…”

“Of a pushover?”

“I was gonna say agreeable, but yeah, pretty much.”

“People change,” Vincent answered vaguely.

“I guess so.” Veld paused and ran his hands back through his hair, which he always used to do when attempting to conceal some strong emotion. “It's so good to see your face, again, Vince. All these years thinking you were killed in action, and you know how I found out you were alive? I'm supervising the cleanup of Shinra Manor. One of the assets whose location I was to verify was you. That’s how they told me my old partner wasn’t really dead. A name, in an inventory of their property.”

“I am dead. I don’t know how much more clearly I can say that.”

“Well, you’re sure making it look good,” Veld Chuckled, clearly still not understanding. “Speaking of good looking, who’s the kid with you? Boyfriend?”

“My son.”

“Your s—your son?? But how? Who? Did you…with a woman??”

“I guess it’s hard for you to imagine, because of…back then. But yes, before they killed me, I loved a woman. He is my son, with her.”

“Well, where is she? Are you on your way to see her?”

“She died.”

“Ah. Uh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Veld, I understand that you have to keep a tail on me. I know you’re just doing your job. And I know what it took for you to put Shinra off hunting me down, even if you’re making light of it. I’ll never forget that. But if your people get within a one-block radius of my son…I’ll kill them all.”

“Fair enough. I wouldn’t want Turks snooping around my kid, either. I’ll tell ‘em to keep their distance. But in exchange, you gotta agree not to kill 'em, unless you absolutely have to.”

“Agreed.”

“By the way, I found something I think belongs to you.”

From a storage materia somewhere on his person, he produced a box, about the size of a shoebox, only a bit longer and narrower. It was wrapped in rumpled, stained red paper, and had a grimy silver ribbon with a flattened bow tied around it. The name ‘Vincent’ was clearly written on the wrapping paper, in black permanent marker.

Vincent stared at the all-too familiar object in stunned disbelief. “Where did you find this? How did you—”

“My crew found it in a trash bag, out by the dumpsters, where the garbage from the manor gets hauled away. They’re a good way from the buildings, so the stuff there didn’t get burned to a crisp, with everything else. You recognize it?”

“A birthday gift, from my son. It…was thrown away by mistake.”

“Well, I’m glad I made the boys sort through the trash, then. Despite all the bitching and moaning.”

“They should, anyway,” Vincent frowned, as he tucked the rumpled present into his cloak. “You can learn more about a target from the garbage they throw out than—”

“Than from the garbage that comes out of their mouth, yeah, I remember,” Veld laughed. “So, you’re still thinking like a Turk, after all this time.”

“It’s not something that just goes away. And I…I do miss it, sometimes.”

“You ever think about coming back, there’ll always be a place for you.”

“No. I’ll never work for Shinra again. I promised my son that I’m finished with all of that. We’re going to settle down and have a nice, quiet life together.”

“I respect that. Maybe one day, I’ll follow your example.”

“I hope you do. Sooner, rather than later,” Vincent said, as he turned to go.

“Maybe…I can meet your son, one day, too,” Veld called after him.

Vincent paused, then gave a nod, over his shoulder, before he vanished.

Back at the bakery, Sephiroth already had the middle-aged ladies that owned the place fawning all over him and stuffing him full of ‘free samples’ of pastries, like a couple of grannies that were worried he was too thin. He and Vincent took their lunch to go, and once they stepped off the main street, Vincent scooped Sephiroth up in his arms and flew them over the castle-like city walls, to the broad, green valley below.

Sephiroth chose a picnic spot in the turfy grass, beside a cheerfully babbling creek. He’d never seen a creek, in person, and was so enthralled by it, he had to be reminded to eat at least some of his lunch, before he went to play around in it.

“It’s so cold!” he shouted laughingly to Vincent, when he’d rolled up his trousers and waded into it, up to his knees. “Do you think there are fish?”

“Not here. Maybe further from the city, where it gets deeper and slows down.”

Sephiroth kicked and splashed around, till he soaked the legs of his trousers, and had to use a fire spell to dry them, before he could put his boots back on.

“How did you get rid of the Turks?” he asked, when he’d sat down again, and began working on Vincent’s half of their lunch.

“One of them was an old friend. He was willing to be reasonable. He was also at the manor, for the cleanup. He, uh. He found this, and thought we might want it.”

Vincent drew the stained and rumpled package from his cloak. Sephiroth’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, in an endearingly childish expression of wonder. “It’s your birthday present! I can’t believe they saved it! How did they save it?”

“Technically, you saved it.”

“Huh? Me?”

“The area where the garbage is left to be hauled away is far from the buildings, so it doesn’t attract wild animals to the areas where people work. None of the things there were burned.”

“Oh. Right. I threw it away.” Sephiroth’s face fell. “I—I thought you weren’t coming back and I just…couldn’t bear to look at it.”

“You don’t have to explain. Hojo made me watch the security feed, anyway. He knew hurting my body didn’t work anymore, so he hurt you, to torture me. I’m so sorry, for all of this. For the pain I caused you, just by existing.”

“I said no more apologizing. Now open your present, I worked really hard getting it for you!”

Of course, the custom-made holster was the most beautiful gift Vincent had ever received, and not just because it was from his son. Even more precious to him, however, was Sephiroth’s happy excitement, chatting to him about the design process and his correspondence with the blacksmith, and all the little details that made it special, while he helped Vincent remove the old holster and strap the new one on, in its place. It fit perfectly, and without that awkwardness of a new thing, as if it had been with him all along.

After that, Sephiroth was still full of energy, being exhilarated by his first foray into the great outdoors, so Vincent agreed to take a walk in the green valley, under the early-afternoon sun. He walked, rather, while Sephiroth picked up interesting rocks, stopped to investigate unfamiliar plants, found a family of frogs, and startled the local birds half out of their wits, scaling nearly every tree he saw. 

“You said your other versions left you guideposts, to avoid repeating their future,” Vincent said, after a while. “So, do you have a plan?”

“I do,” Sephiroth answered decisively, hopping lightly down from the large boulder he’d leapt onto. “First, there are people we have to collect, and some we have to strategically position. Things have to be done at the right times, to be effective, though, so it’ll be a process that takes several years. The upside is, we’ll have a lot of time to relax and travel around, while we wait for circumstances to align.”

“Sounds good. Then what?”

“Then we’re going to kill President Shinra, and everyone else on the board of directors. Well, almost everyone.”

“We are?” Vincent asked, confused. “I thought you were done with killing people. I thought we were going to have the peaceful life you always dreamed of, now.”

“But I want everyone to have a peaceful life. There are powerful people who are malignant influences, actively causing suffering, to as many others as they can. Shinra's top ranks are full of them. None of them are any less monstrous than Hojo. Except one. There’s one good man, who got mixed up in Shinra, and managed to stay a good man.

“We’re going to kill the rest of them, so he’ll be installed as Shinra’s interim chairman, while they’re dragging Rufus home and filing the paperwork, for him to take over as president. By that time, our man will already have public support, and his power base within Shinra will be stable. Rufus will have no choice but to let him steer the ship. And he will definitely steer it in the right direction.”

“You seem to have a lot of faith in him. Who is he?”

“His name is Reeve Tuesti. He’s just an engineer, working in their Urban Planning Department, at the moment, but he’s a genius. He’ll be promoted to Executive Director, within a few years. Youngest executive in Shinra history.”

“How old is he?”

“Now, I’m not sure. Probably eighteen.”

“Already an engineer at eighteen? Impressive. Speaking of precocious teenagers, do you know anything about a person named Tseng?”

“Tseng? Why do you ask?”

“He was one of the Turks they sent after me, today. I just…got a feeling about him.”

“He’d be fourteen years old, right now,” Sephiroth frowned. “He was a Turk so young?”

“I don’t know why that should surprise you. Shinra sent you to war at fourteen, didn’t they?”

“Not anymore, but yes. They would have. Either way, your intuition was spot-on. Tseng is important. We can leave him be, for now, but we’ll need him on our side, later.”

Vincent glanced at him, sidelong. “Out of curiosity, what is ‘our side,’ Seph?”

“It’s…ours,” Sephiroth answered broadly. “It’s the side that wants to help people and save whoever we can. We can help the most people in this world by going after Shinra. Not by blowing up their reactors like a bunch of idiot children, but by completely restructuring the company, from the top down.”

“Blowing up their reactors?”

“There are these eco-terrorists…don’t worry about it. We’ll be ten steps ahead of them. Oh, also we’re going to need the family fortune, to fund our world-changing efforts, so we’ll have to inform the Valentine estate lawyers that you’re not dead. And also have me added to the family register.”

At this point, Vincent didn’t bother to ask how the boy knew about the family’s financial situation, and took it in stride. “You’re sure you want to be a Valentine?”

“Of course. What else would I be?”

“Well, there’s your mother’s surname. I thought you might—”

“No. Not even if I didn’t have another option,” Sephiroth said bitterly. “I may as well take Jenova or Hojo as my surname.”

Vincent looked as if he’d slapped him. “Seph…”

“Sorry, father. I didn’t mean that. I have a lot of pent up anger,” he corrected himself, lowering his head contritely. “All I mean is that, I don’t want any surname other than Valentine. I’m your son. That’s all I want to be.”

“Then you’ll be a Valentine,” Vincent agreed, pulling him close, to kiss the top of his head. “After we take control of the family fortune, what’s our objective?”

“We start gathering allies.”

“Alright. Who’s first?”

“The most important one, of course,” Sephiroth smiled. “Maybe the most important person in the world.”

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY i bet it's Reno

next chapter:

[super-hero-confessions]

People who fail to grasp the more important reasoning behind the Trump and American Exceptionalism allegory for Homelander really worry me about as much if not more than the people who use the allegories as excuses to dehumanize him.

It is one step away from those that unironically idealize him.

Homelander is, and always has been, a satirical caricature of American Exceptionalism on fantasy steroids and a showcasing of the dangers of Patriarchal Capitalism near its final form of decay, Fascism.

And how it hurts even those that manage or float, or we perceive to manage or float, their way to the "top", such as Cis White Hetero Men.

That is what Vought made him, yes. It's also what the author purposely made Vought make him in order to present a specific lesson and tell a story.

That's why the Trump allegory.

I'm not here to defend the worst president that never should have been so help me god go and vote people if that piece of shit gets elected again we will all be doomed.

No.

Let's put this in perspective.

Donald J. Trump's life story is basically Soldier Boy's story.

Born into a rich family, grows up with "everything", shithead father that uses the son as an outlet for his own dissatisfaction with the world and holds his "pride" above his child.

In turn, this creates a bitter, angry, narcissistic asshole who is dangerous with any sort of power. Sound familiar yet?

Except instead of compound V, he for reasons still unknown somehow became president. Maybe a bit cushier overall but the same general blueprint is there.

Hell, he even had protesters brutalized, committed war crimes, and abuses everyone around him into a state of perpetual ass kissing while secretly seething and hating him.

To put it into further perspective, Trump doesn't speak above a 3rd grade level. This makes it very easy for the general American populace to understand and "relate" him, apart from all the lying, but there's likely a deeper, psychologically driven reason behind that too.

Here's the thing.

Trump, Soldier Boy, and Homelander, are all still deplorable monsters who, despite a hard and tragic past that makes some sense of the ire they feel for the world, go on to commit crimes against humanity and become the very thing that hurt them.

They are all merely symptoms of a greater problem.

Patriarchal Feudalism. Which became Patriarchal Imperialism. Which became Patriarchal Capitalism.

In other words, stupid ass abusive social hierarchy systems that make no fucking sense and are a complete waste of human potential and brain power.

Which hurts everyone.

Including the Cis White Hetero Men that the system is perceivably designed for.

Hint.

It's not actually designed for them in a general sense.

It's designed for specific quasi-incestuous white welfare queen families. We used to recognize them as royalty and nobility. Skin color, sexuality, identity, and labels are all just marketing tools they use to "divide and conquer" humans.

Because people don't fight back against their real enemies when they're too disoriented and confused from fighting amongst themselves over meaningless bullshit.

But the Cis White Hetero men? Maybe it doesn't hurt them the same way or as much as someone who is forced to be at the "bottom" of the pyramid.

But it still hurts them.

I don't feel sympathy for Donald Trump. I have no hope for a man who hurts others, uses a broken system to his advantage, and has no will or even time to change who he is.

But I still recognize that he is HUMAN whether I like it or not.

"But he's gross. But he's the worst. But he'll bring the apocalypse. But he needs to be stopped."

And I agree with all of those things.

But he's still fucking human.

Which means that if we want to be better? We don't get to do what he did. We don't get to dehumanize and derail and forget our own humanity. We don't get to be monsters.

Unless we want him and this broken system to win, and continue winning like it has for millennia.

But, and this is a big one, these are all the things that make Homelander WRONG.

Instead, we use him to make an example of what not to be. We use him as a warning for ourselves.

Getting rid of one asshole that profits from the system in place does not change the system nor fix the real problem.

It just paves the way for a new asshole to take his place.

Soldier Boy.

And then Homelander.

And then Ryan.

Of course, there's still one major difference in that Donald Trump is sane.

An idiot, sure, but sane.

Homelander, reasonably so, is not.

Obviously, or rather hopefully, we as a species will never have to face a case so particular as Homelander's. But in a court of U.S. Law, he would be deemed criminally insane.

Criminally insane people are not punished, they are hospitalized for treatment.

The Boys fandom is riddled with ableism, grooming apologism, rape apologism, abuse apologsim, torture apologism, murder apologism, and even genocide apologism. Probably some more I may have missed.

And to a degree, it's understandable that any fandom would be filled with ordinary people that are flawed and may lack self awareness in one area or another. This is normal.

But we can do better.

All of those in fandom that do this in one form or another are failing in understanding the lessons in the media presenting itself to them, in one form or another.

That's why the Trump allegory.

It isn't just randomly thrown in for shits and giggles, it's part of the lesson.

It should be considered a testament to our own humanity in understanding whether or not we can bring ourselves to feel sympathy for a devil or at least to understand how and why those devils are created.

The fact that Homelander is such a polarizing character should be a testament to just how realistic the writing is. Because real public figures, like Donald Trump, are just as polarizing.

But if you would want to lynch your neighbor just for being a very likely uneducated Trump supporter, you are part of the problem.

If seeing the Trump stuff just makes you irrationally angry and start insulting the makers of a satirical dark comedy show that is reasonably known for its whacky shit and gore?

Namely, because it doesn't align with exactly how you want to perceive a particular character?

F- Media Literacy.