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girlsworldillusion · 17 days ago

Text

Your polished hatred flatters me

Slytherin!Aemond - Fem!Reader

HARRY POTTER AU ⚡️🐍

arranged marriage x enemies to lovers

Summary: If there was anything worse than being forced into an arranged marriage with someone you didn't even know, it was that that someone would become your greatest enemy.

Rated: Explicit (+18)

Word count: 12k

Dividers: @allbutthreads

Author's Note: This story is entirely based on the Harry Potter franchise and its spin-offs, but I may also have added a thing or two of my own.

There are some topics that may be sensitive, such as: blood purity, verbal marriage contracts made at an early age, and young children practicing curses on each other - but overall, this is just a spicy and fun story.

Enjoy!

English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find.

“Merlin!” You jump as a huge, translucent green bubble bursts from within your cauldron, the scalding spray nearly reaching your eyes and blinding you in the process.

From across the potions station, Jace sends you a wide-eyed look, his silky, dark curls now frizzy and unruly around his flushed face.

With a frustrated sigh and restless fingers you push the straggly strands of hair behind your ears; the humid, smoky environment making your own hair puff up almost comically, your cheeks pink and skin sticky from all the exposure to the heat and steam.

"That doesn't make any sense, I did exactly what the recipe said-" You mumble, wrinkling your nose at the foul smell of mold and dirty socks that rises in disgusting spirals from your brewing potion, where the swampy goo bubbles almost angrily. "There must be something wrong with this book."

"Umm, is the smoke supposed to be that color?" Your fellow Gryffindor, always oblivious to subtleties, asks, the two of you blinking like idiots at the charcoal-colored smokescreen that at that exact moment leaps out of the cauldron with a loud 'poof' that could not be considered anything less than theatrical. You both explode into a indiscreet coughing fit, the thick, abrupt appearance of the black smoke bomb leaving your faces slightly streaked with soot.

Even though you already know the answer, you still look sadly at the open book on the potions table when you finally manage to stop coughing, holding on to a single remaining fragment of hope that a miracle has happened so that your work won't be considered completely useless in the end.

"Actually, it says here that it should be silver."

Luck isn't something you usually have in abundance, for the record.

"Maybe Snape won't notice. Merlin knows he's had that huge hooked nose stuck in the same book since the class started. Something is clearly keeping him distracted today, much to the general relief and protection of Gryffindor's points. Maybe it's your lucky day after all." The boy smiles brightly at you, all flushed and soot-stained, trying to sound positive despite the chaotic results unfolding right before his eyes.

Of course, since his survival depends solely on breaking other people's expectations and frustrations, Professor Snape decides that this is the perfect time to abandon his reading and wander around the potions stations. You have about two seconds to send Jace a sharp glare before the man in question is making a dramatic turn towards you - no doubt guided by the admittedly quite detectable cloud of smoke exhaling right in front of you.

Jace pales a few shades before ducking his head, fumbling awkwardly with the wooden spoon before dipping it into the bubbling (and, to your shameless envy, much closer to the correct colour) mixture in his cauldron, pretending very poorly to find his own potion extremely interesting.

Arms crossed behind him and head held proudly high, Professor Snape floats across the floor like an ominous kelpie in his long black robes billowing - only breaking his scenic gliding when he’s hovering right next to you.

You swallow, throat suddenly dry at the unwelcome presence, staring at the bubbling disaster inside your cauldron as lace your fingers together in front of you.

"Tell me, Miss Fawley," he begins in his dull, gravelly voice, making you sway on your feet in nervous apprehension, "what is the Draught of Peace potion for?"

You splutter before answering.

"The Draught of Peace potion is a calming potion, Professor. Commonly used to alleviate anxiety and agitation."

If he is pleased with your answer, he doesn't show it at all, still shadowing your body with his sour aura.

"What are the main ingredients in this potion?"

"Huh, moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered porcupine quills and powdered unicorn horn, Professor." You are quicker to answer this time, noticing out of the corner of your eye the proud smile that Jace hides very poorly as he continues to unnecessarily mix his own potion as a form of disguise.

"Hmm. Now tell me, Miss Fawley..." Somehow your correct answers only seem to make the man more and more dissatisfied. "What color should the potion be once it's ready?"

"Turquoise blue, sir." You mutter with an embarrassed sigh, knowing full well where he was leading with this.

"And what's inside the cauldron appears to be turquoise blue to you, Miss Fawley?"

You feel your cheeks darken, looking sheepishly at the steaming, greenish mess inside your cauldron, murky and thick like the swamp waters in the deepest part of the Forbidden Forest - a large bubble rising to the festering surface to burst with a 'pop' that only adds another whiff of stench to the surroundings.

"No, sir."

"No, indeed."

He immediately emphasizes, sending you a sharp, cold look before lowering his gaze to the bubbling mixture with an exorbitant amount of disgust on his face as wrinkles his nose.

"I must say I'm impressed, in a way. It takes some talent to ruin a potion so spectacularly." His frown deepens as he sees the mossy goo threaten to spill out of the sides of the cauldron, moving almost like a living thing at this point.

"Maybe with ten points less for your house you'll find some inspiration to try to use this supposed talent and do it right next time."

He doesn't wait for your answer, abruptly turning his body to leave, as if you've exhausted his patience for the day, the movement making his black cloak flutter exaggeratedly as he walks away.

At the potions station next door, a pair of Hufflepuffs do a very poor job of hiding their giggles at what had just happened, which only makes your cheeks burn more intensely in embarrassment and your mood sour to critical levels.

As if to cement his position as the most happily absorbed person in the school, Jace decides to open his mouth.

"Isn't it hilarious how a potion that should, in theory, relieve anxiety and agitation has caused so much stress?" He breathes in amusement, biting his lip to contain a more exaggerated burst of laughter, as if he had told the biggest joke of all. The amusement, however, abruptly fades the moment he lifts his head to find your narrow, sharp eyes staring at him. "Uh, I mean - actually - forget what I said, you know, it's not hilarious at all..." he pauses between the endless babbling to take a breath. "Godric, is this lesson ever going to end?"

With a roll of your eyes, you turn away from him, glaring at the other potions stations with a resentful scowl as you slump onto the stool next to the table, propping your elbow on the wooden surface with a defeated thud, chin resting in your palm.

A few more students whisper and snigger behind their fingers as they glance sideways at you. You glare back at them with your best expression of silent outrage, daring them to say something to your face.

Honestly, so what if you’re not a natural at Potions? So what if your Draught of Peace didn’t turn out exactly as planned? It was an extremely complex potion, even for seventh years — and anyone with eyes could tell that half the class was struggling with the same thing you were. So why was it that you were the only one getting all this special treatment?

Be average at one thing and count on the rest of the school to ignore all the other things you excel at. Talk about unfair.

A silvery spiral of hissing smoke swirls across your line of vision, drawing your grumpy attention to the potions station on the other side of the classroom.

Before you know who it belongs to, you make sure to take about three seconds to part your lips and admire with a certain amount of distinct envy the clearly flawless result of the potion. At least until your eyes lock with his gaze from behind the cauldron and your expression wilts like a trampled flower. As if on cue, the very lighting in the room seems to change, casting an almost ethereal glow over the figure standing beyond the silver veil.

And if having visual proof that Aemond Targaryen was doing astronomically better than you at something wasn’t bad enough, it was even more despairing to realize that he was already looking at you.

He wasn't making any fuss about it, something that couldn't be said for the other students in the room. In fact, some might not even notice any change in his usual stoic and arrogant attitude. But to you, it was clear. He was there, with the sleeves of his white dress shirt carefully rolled up to his elbows as he stirred the spoon in his potion, staring intently at you from behind that veil of silvery shine, with an almost imperceptible playful tug on the left side of his lips, the only visible eye shining with silent provocation.

He saw everything.

The blush runs down your neck like a bucket of scalding water, but you quickly try to cover up your disgrace with an icy glare and a proud turn of your nose, meeting his gaze with a defiance that you, theoretically, would have no morals to uphold in this particular case. But Merlin curse you before you let this platinum weasel humiliate you in any way.

Not anymore.

Your reaction unfortunately only makes him more confident in his passive aggressive teasing, which almost elicits a heated snarl from your lips. And for a moment of guilty pleasure, you slyly entertain the idea of throwing an accio at his hideously green tie and pulling his face, along with that cold smirk, into the perfectly bubbling cauldron below.

The thought does a good job of dispelling some of the sourness in your mood, and you manage to keep yourself mostly under control, even when he raises an eyebrow and looks appraisingly at the chaos of smoke and stench unfolding just behind your body.

Giving due credit to your hunch that Aemond is, in fact, more annoying and insufferable than any living Cornish pixies, you sigh impatiently, shifting your body in front of your potion as if you could hide it from his judgmental gaze - which, of course, is a futile effort, since the toxic and very evident smoke is already spreading throughout the classroom.

It’s impossible not to find it terribly unfair how you appear to have barely survived a catastrophic encounter with a forest troll while he remains as aristocratic and composed as the Slytherin Prince everyone fawningly claims he is. It’s truly an inconvenience that someone as despicable as him can look so good without even trying — even with his long hair slightly disheveled around his face and shoulders, his porcelain-smooth skin flushed with sweat. If anything, these unusual details only add a touch of disorder to his otherwise immaculate beauty that makes him all the more captivating to the eye.

Good heavens, if someone’s going to be as much of a jerk as he is, at least have the decency to not be so easy on the eyes.

Which is only proven when you look away for a second and catch a few girls sighing and smiling shyly in his direction, the steam and humidity making their own hair look as bristly as rats’ nests on their heads.

You suppose you should feel grateful to any higher creature that your fiancé is someone so attractive. But it turns out you don’t.

Yes. Aemond Targaryen would be your future husband. And yes, that is the bane of your existence.

As one of the families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, your parents decided your love story long ago, making a magical contract with Viserys Targaryen around the time you were about six years old and believed that marriage was when a boy and a girl held hands and walked together in the park. Even before that, you had been raised and molded to be the perfect bride; immaculate and uncultivated time and again with elegant manners and a perfectly controlled temper to propagate the impeccable reputation of your family as an endless legacy.

The only relief you had came from the very selfish pleasure in repeatedly frustrating your parents' expectations with your naturally hot-tempered and bold personality.

But that was all the rebellion you could achieve. Unfortunately, the right to choose your own destiny did not belong to you. It never did.

The arrangement between you was a deal neither of you could escape, a mutual benefit that both families would never give up, a difficult means to a grand end: your family would have the immense honor of being linked to the ancient and very influential name of the Targaryens and they, in return, would finally have the golden key to bring their influence into the Ministry, since your family had always been involved in politics - a fact that only solidified when your father was elected the new Minister of Magic.

Aemond, your arranged fiancé, was a pure-blood Targaryen, the crown of wizarding royalty, along with the Velaryons and the Blacks. By all accounts, it should have been a source of immense honor and joy to be the glue that would bind your family to his in such a fortunate arrangement. And your fiancé was a good match, all in all: handsome, charming, and obscenely wealthy.

But he was also cold, indifferent, and even mean at times.

And, of course, he hated you.

Aemond had always been so cruel, so harsh with his words on the few, isolated occasions when any verbal interaction had occurred. You knew he was as unhappy as you were about the marriage arrangement, but you had at least made some effort to be polite about the inevitable future that hung over your heads. You had known from the beginning that this was not a romantic arrangement and probably never would be. There was no need for a good prior acquaintance. In fact, the two of you had never met in person until both entered Hogwarts at the age of eleven. But your childish and innocent heart nurtured the hope that the two of you could at least get along and perhaps cultivate some sort of friendship over the years.

He, contrary to any hope you might have had, decided that he would make your life an even bigger hell than it already was since your first meeting in the Great Hall, where he mocked your friendly smile and called you a weird bucktooth in front of the entire school. You could have mocked him back then, laughed at the eye patch he wore on the left side of his face, the grotesque and poorly healed scar on his cheek and forehead from some sort of advanced spell cast against him. But even at that age you knew about limits, unlike the insufferable boy.

Later that night, you learned from Jace that that garish scar was caused by his brother, Lucerys Velaryon, another future Gryffindor who became your friend two years later. A common wand dueling challenge that went horribly wrong for Aemond and created another rift in their already volatile relationship. The advanced curse proved unbreakable, even for the most skilled healers, resulting in the permanent loss of his left eye and a scar that is nearly impossible to heal.

It was surprising enough that this Lucerys, even without having been enrolled at Hogwarts yet, already knew how to use this type of curse. And even more surprising was to discover that the Targaryen and Velaryon children had the habit of challenging each other to wand duels at such a young age, as if it were something normal. It scared you, but it only solidified for you the long-standing reputation of both families as highly talented and fearsome wizards.

That was the first time you felt sad for Aemond Targaryen, ruminating on the mental picture of how difficult his childhood could have been. But you quickly covered the softened feeling with the hurt memory of what he made you go through in front of all those people that very day.

Even after that burning humiliation, however, you made an effort to approach him cautiously at times, but the almost hateful coldness with which he looked at you since that first meet did not change much over time. And yes, maybe you were an inconvenience in general. A part of his life that he couldn’t shake off and it frustrated him. But he was exactly like that to you too and that didn’t make you act like had a shoe up your ass.

Eventually, and fueled by the sheer outrage of being so blatantly blocked and ridiculed for no logical reason, since you were as much a slave to this contract as he was, you decided that Aemond Targaryen could go fuck himself for what concerns you.

And so, a heated rivalry was born.

True, over time, that overt hatred and the obvious grimaces of revulsion on his boyish features gave way to a softer kind of icy indifference on his face; now decidedly more masculine and grown-up. He learned to be more discreet about his feelings for you (the lack thereof, to be more precise), with more elegant and aristocratic manners - but you never let your guard down around him again.

And you hated how much you thought about him sometimes, especially after the sudden growth spurt he’d gone through, spending hours late into the night remembering the sharp curve of his jaw or how piercing his gaze was when focused.

Aemond wasn’t thinking about you, not in the same way you thought about him. He probably only thought about you when he wanted to practice an attack, imagining it was your face on the training dummy as he threw diffindo after diffindo at the poor thing.

Merlin knew you did that sometimes too, always ending your private training with a tired but satisfied smile after imagining him taking all those spells to the chest instead of the ridiculous mental replay of your fingers sliding along the dagger-sharp line of his jaw as you kissed him breathlessly.

Heavens, you despised him so much.

Determined not to let this man get any more reaction out of you, you hold his gaze for just a few seconds longer - long enough to let out an elegant puff of air through your nose and a tedious flutter of your eyelashes before turning your head away from him.

Bracing your mind (and stopping yourself from casting a hex on the man instead) you focus your magic and all your attention on the cauldron, putting a definitive end to the steaming mess inside it with a whispered charm only in your mind.

"Wow! You're getting better at nonverbal and wandless spells every day, that's incredible!" A curly-haired Jace, electrified around his face, gasps in front of you, genuinely impressed by your feat, even though he himself (as well as your annoyingly talented future husband) already mastered nonverbal and wandless spells before you even learned how to master them decently verbally and with a wand. You feel your face heat up at the compliment anyway, pleased that someone admires the colossal effort you’ve been putting into perfecting your technique.

Although students learn some nonverbal spells from sixth year onwards, wandless spells weren’t officially taught at the school, and you had to raid the restricted section of the library once or twice to find the very few books that contained some information and ways to master the technique. And it was a challenging and exhausting technique, to say the least.

“Come on, be useful and tell me how you made your potion instead of just standing there fawning over me.” You wave your hand at him indifferently, as if it were no big deal, even though a smug smile is twitching your lips.

Jace smiles back at you, bright and looking even prouder than you, picking up his own notes to begin explaining.

-----

“Dear fiancée,” a voice hums behind you as you reach for the book high on the shelf, the word fiancée rolling off his tongue with such melodramatic emphasis that it almost makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head in response. Merlin bless your exquisite upbringing for keeping you calm when it really matters.

“Oh, it’s you.” You don’t even try to hide the disdain in your tone, as any good lady would, casually pulling the book out as you turn to him. He wouldn’t buy your lies anyway. It’s well known how shrewd and perceptive the damn man can be, after all.

“It seems so. Disappointed?” Aemond asks, a sharp, subtle smile gracing his lips, looking far too pleased for someone whose presence is so blatantly unwelcome. He knows perfectly well that yes, you’re disappointed.

It’s late now, and besides the two of you now, there are only a small handful of Ravenclaw students on the other side of the library — even Madam Irma Pince is more lethargic from the day’s fatigue, sitting near her desk as she reviews some papers. You definitely don’t have the patience to deal with Aemond.

“Never. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask with a sweet smile that does nothing to hide your displeasure at seeing him. After the fiasco of your performance in Potions Class, you had the privilege of not hearing from him for a few days. But of course, your luck wouldn’t last forever. “It’s not often that you grace me with your presence.” He’s approaching you slowly, arms crossed behind him, all his glorious, imposing self, and you make the mistake of taking a nervous step back to a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Damn. What did he want now?

“What?” He asks simply, completely calm, and something flickers behind his gaze at the words. “Can’t I check on my fiancée without it looking suspicious?”

“I see,” you say as you take another step back, your heart skipping a beat when you feel the bookshelf at your back. His proximity makes your breathing quicken slightly, but you swallow and hold his gaze. “Well, I’m perfectly fine, as you can see. So if that’s all it is…”

“Not really. You see, I don’t want to be described as a negligent partner.”

The sheer audacity of his statement makes you drop your carefully crafted facade, a wry laugh falling from your lips.

“Oh of course, because you’re always so attentive, aren’t you?” you ask teasingly, the sour smile still stretching your mouth. “The polite way you can barely stand me is especially endearing, I might add.”

"I suppose so,” he retorts unaffectedly, enjoying pushing your buttons — though he’s letting the tension that always builds when you’re around each other get the better of him. “We’re engaged, after all. And that’s my duty, as a son. Your duty as a daughter.”

“Oh, but it’s a heavy duty indeed,” you say as raise your nose in affront, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as you notice the glaring height difference between the two of you. “But someone who makes such a point of bragging about the elegance and good manners with which he was raised should do better at carrying that burden, don’t you agree? He should be able to at least fake it without much effort.” The last words were more of a hiss than anything else, and he chuckled in response.

“Oh, yes,” he mused casually as closed the distance between you. “The upbringing part really grates on your nerves, doesn’t it? Or is it the similarity to the practices of the Dark Arts thing now? Forgive me, my dear, but I’ve lost count of all the things you openly despise about me.”

Something tightens in your chest. Something dreadful and expectant at the same time, anxiety and anticipation at the prospect of a point of confusion. What did he mean, anyway? Trust Aemond, of course, to resort to riddles and fog when it comes to open conversation.

“Consider marrying you one more thing I despise,” you say quietly. There’s an endless supply of comments to throw at him. It’s incredibly easy to conjure up reasons to dislike this man. But it’s made all the more real by the way he makes you feel, all burning and needy for something that will never truly be yours.

Aemond has the audacity to look almost offended when you say this, his expression falling dangerously close to somber.

What the hell is wrong with him?

His usual stoicism and cold demeanor make any display of emotion beyond that a rare occurrence. And you feel unequipped to understand the complexity of what’s going on.

“I’m afraid that, despise or not, this needs to be done,” he says, as icy as ever, even with his expression dark as it is. “And wouldn’t you say it’s past time we started this pretense?” His question is unsettling on so many levels that even as he rests his forearm on the shelf above your head and leans his face close to yours, all you can do is blink up at him.

He couldn’t possibly be implying what you think, right? But when he smiles condescendingly at your alarmed expression and uses his other hand to grip your waist, you know he is.

“T-there’s no need at all,” you say quickly, dazed by the feel of his long fingers on you, his face leaning close to yours. “This is just a duty we can learn to deal with in the future.”

He hums thoughtfully at your answer, that dangerous shadow still in his one good eye, the silky silver curtain of his hair brushing the side of your face. You subtly inhale his scent; green apples, leather and heat, something refreshing and warming at the same time.

“Should I be worried about you fulfilling such duties with someone else?”

Your eyes narrow at him, the fingers tightening the book in response.

“What do you mean?” Your voice is equal parts curious and a warning.

“What is Cregan Stark to you?”

At the mention of the other man, your stomach sinks a little. It doesn’t take much investigation to understand why he’s suddenly interested in this.

“Cregan? He’s…a good friend.” You struggle to answer, though you feel like you should just leave him alone here in this secluded hallway of the library, avoid the uncomfortable topic of this conversation.

“Just a good friend?” He asks, his cold, hard gaze locked with yours, his grip on your waist tightening.

“What?”

It was clear that Aemond was carefully considering his next words, expression thoughtful as he crafting his answer to you.

“The portraits gossip.”

Yes, you knew.

A few days ago, after a Gryffindor Quidditch victory, the common room was filled with students celebrating. It was the biggest party you had attended in a long time. There was drinking, music, shouting, kissing, and even a few students crowding into a corner for a rather indiscreet sex session.

It was a such mess.

It didn’t take long for your own drinking to take effect, making you more uninhibited and reckless than usual. Cregan, the captain of the team, whose interest in you had always been obvious to everyone, even with your well known arrangement with Aemond, was there when you felt the vibration of alcohol in your veins - that fire that tells you that you are capable of doing anything and, before you could think better of it, you were already making out with him in a small alcove in the common room.

Despite the alcohol, Cregan guided you with passion and desire, biting your neck and lips as he told you how much had waited for this. You didn't love him, nor did you even have any romantic feelings for him. But those words along with the needy touches inevitably made you think of your future husband, the one who so vehemently hated you. And that was the last straw. Before the night was over, you had Cregan Stark buried deep in your pussy until then untouched by any man. It hurt at first, but you don't even think he realized that you were a virgin, as drunk as you both were, reciting hoarse words of praise in your ear while holding you as if he never wanted to let you go.

The next morning, in addition to a splitting headache, you were weighed down by the crushing weight of regret. Not only had you given your first time to someone you had no real feelings for, but you had also deceived a good man in the process. It had been the hardest conversation of your life, and seeing the disappointment on Cregan’s handsome, hopeful face had devastated you so much that you had to take the day off to lock yourself in dormitory and cry with guilt.

And to make matters worse, when you finally emerged into the world, you learned that the entire school already knew about your one-night stand with Cregan Stark. Apparently Muldoon Cragg’s portrait, one of the former Gryffindor Headmasters, wasted no time in leaving his post and gossiping about seeing the House Captain and the renowned Miss Fawley clinging like roots of the same tree in the hallways, stripping each other of their clothes as they ran to the man's dormitory.

Now, see, although you would have preferred to keep such matters private, your shame was not because they had discovered that you had had sex. Your only regret was that, in your moment of emotional weakness and hatred for having Aemond Targaryen as your fiancé, you had hurt someone as incredible as Cregan.

Merlin knows how common it was for students to be having sex at your age, even those who already had an established marital commitment, as you have with Aemond.

In the wizarding world, it was common to be promised to another person from a young age within the great pure-blood families and Hogwarts had some cases like these. Despite the verbal magical contract made between the heads of the families, the bond between the couple itself would only be made official after graduation, when a magical vow between them would be made and their magics linked to each other forever - the magic of the vow preventing them from being with anyone other than their spouse.

But until that day came, it wasn't uncommon for a mutual understanding to be established between the young couple, freeing both of them to 'enjoy' their single moments while they could. There was usually no hard feelings or big fuss about it, especially since, most of the time, there were no real feelings on either side. Therefore, there was also no jealousy.

Aemond himself, according to the gossip of some students, was no exception to this rule.

And that's why you stare at him, open-mouthed, trying hard not to interpret anything the wrong way. Because, heavens, he couldn't possibly be thinking of judging you, could he?

"I didn't anything wrong," you begin cautiously, but Aemond frustrates you with an ironic snort. "But whatever happened, it doesn't concern you, Targaryen."

He laughs humorlessly, his thumb stroking your waist slowly, his face hovering above yours as you both practically breathe the same air.

“For what it’s worth, this concerns me more than anyone else, princess.” Though he remains calm and casual, there’s a sharp bite in his voice, in his gaze. “After all, it’s my reputation that’s being tarnished by your promiscuous behavior.”

You stare at him in bewilderment, unable to believe his audacity. The blood begins to boil in your veins, heating your cheeks and neck with both anger and shame at his words, the magic in your veins reacting to emotional turmoil.

“Promiscuous behavior? Oh, how dare you?” You practically hiss at him, clutching the book between your fingers so tightly that the cover creaks. “That’s rich coming from someone with your notoriety.”

You’re furious, and he’s so close and your breath mingles with his, the smug bastard, his gaze glowing with the same fire you feel…

“It’s just whispers in the hallways.” He exhales with a disinterested shrug, invading your personal space as if he had any right to do so, so close that you can smell the leather eye patch he wears.

"What the hell do you mean it's just whispers in the halls? A few days ago Alys Rivers was singing loud and clear to the entire castle about the sexual exploits you two did after Quidditch practice, don't act like I'm an idiot or something!"

"And what's the proof that this actually happened?" He asks you so casually that for a good minute you just stare at him with your mouth open, not having an immediate answer to his indifferent question. "It's just rumors, princess. In the end, it's going to be her word against mine."

"More like the word of half the female population of the castle against yours, you hypocrite." You growl when you recover, looking at him as if you could set him on fire with just that. Your nonverbal magic isn't all that great yet, but maybe...

"And there's still no proof. Other than words, none of them have any evidence that I was actually there. I've made sure of that." Aside from the burning gaze on yours, Aemond shows little emotion in his argument, crumpling your uniform shirt to caress your belly with his open palm, as if this weren't at all shocking. "But you, you let yourself be caught. You let them have proof of your filthy deeds with that mutt Stark. I must say, your standards are critical low, sweetheart."

The comment, delivered so easily, leaves you breathless. You try to ignore the pangs of anxious curiosity that run through you at his touching your body in favor of the unnerving accusations he’s making. He remains impassive in the face of your volcanic attitude, waiting patiently above you.

“Merlin, you’re so annoying! Understand that you have no right to berate me! And don’t you dare talk about my standards, you don’t know me, you asshole!” You growl in exasperation, squirming under his strong grip, finally trying to escape the strategic hold. But Aemond must have some sort of Whomping Willow ancestry, because the man simply won’t back down.

“I wonder how you could have allowed a dim witted troll like Stark to put those filthy hands on your body.” Contrary to the absurd weight behind his statement, he seems almost possessive as he speaks, insane as the concept was, restraining your efforts by gripping your wrists between the fingers of one hand, using the other to push you against the tall bookshelf by the shoulder. The two of you, caught up in this confrontation as you are, barely hear the loud thud of the book falling to the floor as it slips from your fingers.

Ignoring the unnerving restraint and the open insult to Cregan, this time you actually laugh at his words, amused by their stupid and uncalled-for implication.

"And should I allow you to put your hands on me, Targaryen? Tell me how exactly that would be better?"

He breathes close, staring at you with steely eye and tight lips, the knuckles on your shoulder sliding to caress the throbbing pulse at the side of your neck in an almost unconscious gesture. Something turbulent bubbles in that single visible eye, the peculiar purple color that is inherent to Targaryens appearing darker than usual as he maps every inch of your face. When he finally speaks, you already feel like your heart might leap out of your chest, such is the tension between the two of you.

“You may hate me, beautiful, but I am still your fiancé,” he murmurs with measured slowness, the menacing timbre of his voice making you shiver with the suspicious prelude of what is to come. “Soon we'll be married and united forever and then I'll have you as many times as it takes.” As if to prove his point, he slowly pushes your joined hands to the bookshelf above your head, pressing his body against yours until you feel every heated, hard inch of him. “I will fill you every day and every night until it sink into that pretty head that you're mine. I should have started doing that already."

There's a slight huskiness to his voice and heat pulses through your core and the back of your neck at the explicit picture he's painting with his words. Your cheeks burn and your eyes flutter wide at the boldness of him, the sheer audacity of saying something so lewd to you when he's barely taken time to have any kind of interaction with you before tonight.

And yet, it takes a grueling mental battle to try, and lose, not to imagine him doing exactly what he's saying — taking your body night after night, filling your pussy with his seed until you're leaking from it.

And then you hear Madam Pince's delicate footsteps approaching.

"Kids, it's time to go, we're closing for the night."

And as if waking from some strange dream, you blink rapidly, giving Aemond a rude shove — and this time, mercifully, he complies.

Madam Pince rounds the corner of bookshelf you’re both in at the same time he takes a few steps back, though he still stubbornly holds your gaze.

When you refuse to maintain eye contact any longer, chest rising and falling faster than you’d like, you can feel the fingers trembling as push a strand of hair behind your ear.

You barely hear what Madam Pince says, staggering toward the library exit with hurried steps, bumping into a few students who are taking the same route as you.

“Hey, watch out!” one of them yells when you basically push him as try to climb the stairs, but you, in an uncharacteristic display of rudeness, don’t even register the complaint. All you can think about is how embarrassed and small you feel right now; how you allowed Aemond to put you in a situation where you looked so weak, so exposed.

All those years of hardening your feelings and expectations for that horrible creature and he puts it all in check in one night.

"Idiot, idiot, idiot..." You mumble over and over, walking through corridors and pillars without having the slightest idea of where you're trying to go. "Such an idiot." Who? You, him, both of you - it doesn't matter.

You hate him. So much. The smug, arrogant way he does literally everything; from his penchant for brilliance in absolutely every class, to the discreet smiles he displays when he's showing off in the air during Quidditch matches - even the way he breathes.

You hate him.

And you especially hate how hot he's doing these things.

Amidst the hurried footsteps, you hear another one approaching quickly; quieter, feline - and you don't even need to turn around to know who it is.

"Leave me alone, Targaryen! I've already exhausted my patience quota for you tonight." You huff, practically running down the hallway now.

He remains silent and you almost think he's going to do exactly as you asked, until a scream leaves your lips as feel your elbow suddenly being grabbed by a strong hand, pulling you inside one of the hallway doors.

"What your fucking problem?! Let me go!" Your voice is sharp as you try to pull away from his grip.

"You." He answers sullenly, pushing your back against the door with a heavy thud, slapping both hands on it, one on either side of your face, to prevent you from escaping. You stare at him in surprise, both of you breathing quickly. "You're my fucking problem. You and your annoying, inconvenient stubbornness."

"I told you to stop talking like you know anything about me." You hiss at him, resentment and emotional turmoil guiding your actions until you stand on your tiptoes and almost touch the nose to his as you speak. "You. Don't. Know. Me."

"Yes, I do." He amends instantly and you fall silent only at the unsettling dose of confidence in his voice. "I know you wake up earlier than the other girls in the dorm so you have time to stroll along the shores of the Black Lake while it's still completely empty - because it gives you a feeling of calm and prepares you to face the rest of the day. I know you like dancing in the rain, despite McGonagall’s constant disapproval. I know you love Care of Magical Creatures, even though it’s an elective class, and you’re considering a future career in that department, despite your family’s vehement political expectations.”

You swallow hard, releasing the pressure on your feet to sag back down against the floor and the door with a surprised gasp, but Aemond is quick to lean closer to you, chasing proximity like a Niffler chasing shiny things.

“I know, and you know that you’re an absolute disaster at Potions, but you’re too stubborn to admit it. You're addicted to chocolate frogs, but you're also strangely sensitive to them, so you always wait for the charm end and they stop jumping before eat them - which, of course, makes no sense, since the part where they jump on belly is the most fun." He sighs a laugh and steps even closer, practically trapping you in the doorway with his own body.

And, Merlin help you, he's so close.

His breath, warm and pleasantly sweet, as if he'd recently eaten licorice wands, blows across your face with each ragged breath. His pale, smooth skin is highlighted by a single moonbeam from the opposite stone wall, which also bathes the icy blond of his hair in a mythical way that makes the silky strands shine like silver threads running down his broad shoulders. His eye, a deep, appraising purple, don't leave your eyes for even a second. His scent, citrusy and masculine, invades your senses until all you can feel is him. Only him.

Not even now having a clear, detailed look at that barely healed scar for the first time, could you describe him in any other way than charming. Ethereal, like a creature from a fairy tale or beautiful songs.

“I know you like the pumpkin pie they serve for breakfast, but you think Pixie Puffs are an overrated cereal, whatever that means. And even if no one else noticed, I know you were the one who cast that Tarantallegra on Martyn Reyne just as he was about to turn Oscar Tully into a pulp during the last Quidditch match. And with a wandless charm, to boot. The man was tap-dancing uncontrollably in the Slytherin common room for a whole day after that, princess. It was infuriating to watch.”

“Aemond -” You’ve never heard him speak so much - not to anyone and certainly not to you. You can’t help but sigh, chest heaving at both the words and the resigned weight of admiration in them. And the shock of hearing the name, his name, leave your lips for the first time in your life makes you blush to the roots of hair. But Aemond only feels emboldened by this, his gaze darkening and a muscle jumping in his jaw before he continues.

“I know you’ve despised this marriage contract since you were six and was forced into it, but you still want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you now.” He hovers over you, reaching down with his open hand on the door to brush a few strands of hair out of your eyes; long, cold fingers brushing the delicate curve of your ear.

You choke out a surprised sound and feel your eyes widen, caught off guard exactly like a student caught wandering around the castle after bedtime by some prefect. Aemond’s eyebrows rise, his own gaze burning in silent challenge as he waits for your answer. You open your mouth, but no matter how much you want to, and know you should be denying his outrageous insinuations, no words escape your suddenly dry throat.

“I dare you to deny it,” he murmurs in a voice like heated molasses when you still don’t say anything, leaning his face down to brush his lips against your ear. “Come on baby. If you dare, do it."

And then, in a lapse of judgment and sanity (and instinctively reacting to a challenge he has issued), you do.

There are no glares or scathing retorts to the question raised. There is just you acting impulsively.

You are jumping in Aemond immediately, tugging his green tie down to urge him into a bruising kiss. For a moment he smiles hatefully smugly against your mouth, but before you can regret what you have done and pull away, he pushes you back against the door with more force, slamming you into the aged wood as if to fuse you to it.

You release his tie in favor of desperately grabbing a handful of his shirt, the fingers of other hand digging into the soft flesh of his neck to bring him deeper into your lips. As he ravages your mouth with fervent desire, the world around you seems to deflate and disappear in the shadows, leaving only the electrifying connection between the two of you. Every brush of his lips against yours sets a firestorm of sensation, each touch crawling through your soul with an insatiable hunger for more.

There are no gentle, tender, or exploratory kisses; he kisses you assertively, surely, with ownership. As if he’s imagined doing this for a lifetime. He sinks both hands into the sides of your face, tilting your head back as runs his tongue over your lips, asking for entrance, and you welcome him.

And, unsurprisingly, kissing Aemond is like every other interaction you’ve ever had with him. Heated, intense, filled with tension. He sucks on your tongue and licks it right after, his teeth even brushing lightly yours sometimes - not in an awkward, painful way; but in a way that conveys his hunger for it, his possessiveness.

As you’d imagined, he tastes like the crystallized sugar of licorice wands; a perfectly balanced contrast to his citrusy scent of green apples and crackling wood from a fireplace. It’s an addictive balance that makes you shiver and grip him tighter between your fingers.

He pulls back a little to nibble on your bottom lip, teasing it between his teeth before sucking it in too. Then he fits his lips fully against yours once more, swallowing the wet, heated sound that leaves your throat.

It’s like you’re floating and sinking at the same time, feeling his hands leave your face to pull you closer by the hips, the kisses becoming more and more heated.

With a low, frustrated growl, he suddenly releases you, but not for long. Gripping your hips tighter, he lifts you up, and with a small yelp of surprise, your legs instinctively wrap around him. He cranes his head to continue the kiss as he spins you toward a table in the corner of the room, slipping between your legs as soon as he sits you down.

His mouth moves to your neck, heated and wet, sucking the sensitive flesh to leave marks you would be resenting if you were in your full mental capacity. But as it is, your eyes only flutter in response as you half watch the dust particles shimmer in the air in that small crack of moonlight, small involuntary sighs falling from your lips. His hand slides down your spine to belly, rising to tease the rise of your breast and the delicate slope of neck, the rings spread on his cold fingers poking the skin as he presses your throat lightly and you shiver.

Teeth rise to graze languidly against your ear and lips burn against your skin. How could he be so intense and yet remain so calm?

"Let me show you how it should be. Do it better for you than he did, leave you truly satisfied." He whispers like a lewd secret and even you're though sitting you feel the knees trembling, your heart fluttering at the speed of the delicate wings of a golden snitch.

"And who said he couldn't satisfy me?" You bluff breathlessly, barely able to admit the truth to yourself - much less to him. Not because Cregan didn't actually make it good for you. He did, you suppose. Caring for your pleasure as best he could. But any sense of satisfaction was drowned out by the weight of guilt and the unsettling feeling that it just didn't feel right...not with him.

"Oh, my treasure. With the raw way I crave you, I find it very unlikely that anyone could be as eager to please you as I am - much less a common mutt like Cregan Stark." The rough timbre of his voice vibrates through you and the air grows tense, your skin crawling at the feel of his other hand sliding down your thigh. "Just say yes and I'll prove it to you."

You don't answer him, not with words. But you think your round, needy eyes might have told him something, because he leans in until his mouth is a hair’s breadth from yours, staring at you as if he’s very pleased with what sees. He closes the distance to lick your mouth slowly and, after moving to put enough space between your bodies, uses the hand on your waist to pull you to the edge of the table.

The hand on your thigh moves to slide under your skirt until it plays with the side of the waistband of your panties. You suck in a ragged breath, nervously bracing both hands on the table as you bite your lip.

Those fingers, long and cold, curl into the elastic at your crotch, bunching the fabric to make it brush against your clit once, twice, three times, before you fix him with a drunken, narrowed gaze — a signal to stop teasing, and he chuckles close to your lips.

He takes the hint, though, and dips his thumb into your entrance. The violation of just one digit is surprising and not enough at the same time, and you writhe to make that point clear as you throw your head back, gasping a sound of pleasure. He takes his time, pressing his thumb in and out at the slowest pace imaginable, his signet ring tickling your entrance with each thrust. You moan a little louder and can feel, even without seeing, the infuriating smile of triumph he wears in response.

“You look like want something, hmm?” he drawls, molding his lips to the soft curve of your throat. Your hand releases its death grip on the table to push at his shoulders, even though the thrust is too weak to be taken seriously. When he chuckles in amusement at your action, you lift the head to look at him, noticing how swollen his lips are from kissing you so damn much.

“Come on, ask nicely for what you need from me, beautiful.” He whispers and instead of giving what you want so much, moves his thumb inside you with movements so light that only serve to increase the flame of desire, but never quench it.

But two can play that game, you realize, pursing your lips and huffing elegantly before looking across the room.

Aemond clucks his tongue in disapproval.

“Everything has to be a fight with you, doesn’t it?” His thumb drifts lazily away from your folds, leaving you feeling unbearably empty. You whimper at the loss, but he doesn’t give you a chance to protest. Aemond grips your chin, forcing you to tilt your head toward him again. Looking so close, you’re forced to face the fact of how small you are compared to his tall, defined frame, the width of his shoulders casting shadows over your smaller body. Your chin slips from his grip and instead he takes your hand in his to guide it down between your legs - a confident, strong grip that leaves no room for resistance.

“Feel this,” his words are harsh as he stares down at you, that single eye flashing in wicked amusement as your body twitches in response. Your mouth falls open in a sharp gasp of surprise as he doesn’t hesitate to guide your own finger and his inside your pussy, not bothering to do it slowly, “Feel how wet you are for me, princess.”

Your finger, delicate and smaller, dips in alongside his longer, wider one, going as deep as it will go — and to your growing humiliation, there actually is a wet mess helping; your trembling, tight walls drooling around the intrusion.

“T-that doesn’t mean…” You sob, widening and contracting around both fingers, “nothing.”

“That means everything, baby.” He smiles in an unnervingly knowing way, fucking your walls with slow, deep strokes, curling your fingers so you feel the difference between them perfectly.

“We shouldn’t — not here of all places. Merlin, d-don’t you have an ounce of decency in your being?” you continue, whimpering pathetically, writhing on the table: "Someone could hear us...a prefect could-"

"You'll have to be very quiet then." He interrupts you casually, although he's panting softly against your lips.

"Heavens, you're so annoying! A-at least cast a silencing charm, idiot!"

"And where's the fun in that? What about the danger, the adrenaline rush of avoiding being caught?" He pretends to ponder, sadistically pleased with your desperate arguments. "Take it as another challenge, princess. Especially after how spectacularly you failed the last one." He hums teasingly and you would growl back at him if you weren't too busy riding your fingers. "Can you be quiet?" He says in that soft, teasing way of his. Like he knows perfectly well that you can't.

And he's right.

You have to stifle a moan into his neck as he lifts his thumb to swirl your clit, both fingers working you slowly.

“For all your horrible biting, princess, you are a lovely creature when properly tamed.” His voice is a sigh of awe and hunger, like a worshipper before some masterpiece. You blush several shades, burying your face further into his neck to hide your shame.

“Y-you are even crazier than I imagined, Targaryen. You're sorely mistaken if think you have tam—oh!”

He curls your fingers up suddenly and you gasp, legs twitching and tightening around his waist with undignified desperation. You're beginning to see through blurry lenses, your other hand tangling in his hair for something to anchor yourself to, pulling him closer and closer as the pressure builds with each wet rub against your clit—

And then he’s pulling his fingers out, lifting your joined hands to his mouth, smiling at you as he sucks the both fingers into his mouth like they’re a sweet treat he’s been waiting all day to taste.

Merlin, what must it be like to know you’re the hottest man in the world?

The irritation at having your near orgasm interrupted is overshadowed by the sinful sight ahead of you, your parted lips and lazy gaze.

You catch a glimpse of his pink tongue licking between your upraised fingers and your legs tighten around him, unconsciously trying to ease the sensual pressure between them.

“You’re the most insufferable creature I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting in my life and I-” You start grumpily but breathlessly, stopping slowly when he slides his fingers from his mouth to straighten himself in front of you, tugging at the button on his pants. You sit up straighter on the table, wide eyes fixed on the broad hand undoing his pants. Veiny hand. Long pale fingers adorned with gold and silver rings, the Targaryen insignia gleaming from the signet ring on his thumb.

“A-and I hate you so much. Ardently." You sigh mechanically and vaguely, noting with heated embarrassment a wet spot on the crotch of his pants.

“Me too, princess…” he hums smugly, taking his sweet time to unzip his pants and pull them down slightly, along with his boxer briefs, just enough to free his straining cock. “Ardently.”

Your shoulders slump and your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight of his aching, weeping cock. It’s long — much longer than you expected, anyway — and thick. Pre-cum drips from the flushed tip and his cock bobs under your shy scrutiny.

"I-I," you try, humiliatingly lacking the sarcastic words to ridicule him at this moment, and Aemond - bathed in masculine pride and arrogance - drags his palm over the moisture pooling on the head of his cock and spreads it along the veiny shaft. "Fuck, don't you dare say anything now."

He doesn't need to, though - just his smirk tells you enough - and almost a little too spitefully, you grab the tails of his dress shirt, tugging at the fabric until the sound of ripping is heard, the poor buttons rudely ripped from its places to fall bouncing on the stone floor.

Moonlight bathes the soft, marble skin of his throat, chest and abdomen, an endless, sinful expanse of lean, defined muscle covered in a few paler scars - some larger and more evident than others.

The dazzling scene before you pauses for a second as you focus on them, the almost worrying amount.

Where did he get them? How? In duels? Or some kind of archaic and horrific method of punishment?

He doesn’t let you dwell on it too much, though, striding confidently towards you until your attention returns to where it belongs; and while Cregan was all about thick muscles and an intimidating body, Aemond towered over all the other students with his majestic height and lean muscles, with broad shoulders and an elegantly tapered waist. He truly looked the epitome of pure-blood royalty — not that you’d let him know that.

With silver hair falling disheveledly over his shoulders, the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the flaps open on either side of his chest and abdomen, and green tie hanging loosely around his neck, he looked undone in the best possible way. And of course, that air of hungry elegance surrounding him, like a man who knows he’s about to get what he wants.

Aemond, still holding his cock between his fingers, rubs against the wetness between your legs for a few seconds, then uses his thumb to spread your entrance, your panties barely pushed aside. You squeeze around nothing, and he practically sighs in awe at the sight.

“Such a pretty little hole, sweetheart.”

You blush at the vulgarity, holding onto the tail of his shirt for dear life, the other hand latching onto the back of his neck.

With the hand that’s not between your bodies, and much more calmly than you’ve done previously, he unbuttons your dress shirt. He’s skilled at it, much to your silent annoyance — taking each button out of its place with easy precision. And all the while, he doesn’t stop gently thrusting himself between your legs.

And, Merlin, you’re so wet — literally dripping between your legs — so sore, and fuck, you want him so, so bad. But Aemond just rubs the tip of his cock against your clit as he holds your entrance open with his thumb, his gaze intent on the skin that reveals itself when the flaps of your shirt finally part.

“Aemond,” you whimper and he hums questioningly at you, but doesn’t move to do anything other than grind himself against you more, stroking the lacy details of your bra with a cold, hungry gaze.

You make a disgruntled noise and move your hips against him, trying desperately to get him inside you.

“Ah-ah,” your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he completely covers one of your breasts with his palm in a greedy grip. “Come on, stop teasing me, you idiot insensitive…”

He blithely ignores you, kneading your breast like a cat with a ball of yarn, thrusting at your clit with shallow strokes that only make you hotter and needier, his thumb sliding in to breach the barrier of your entrance once more, just to the first knuckle. You let your upper body fall dramatically backwards, barely supporting yourself on forearms, your head rolling from side to side as you groan in frustration.

“Aemond, fuck. This is the worst time for you to be the most annoying person to ever walk this planet. Don’t make me beg.”

You can hear the laughter in his voice as he responds.

“Really?” His tone is proud and playful, as if he doesn’t already have his cock against your clit and a thumb inside you.

You look up to meet his gaze, and the wry smile that tugs at the corner of his lips infuriates you to no end, because suddenly you realize that this is exactly what he wants.

You swallow your growing pride, temporarily deciding to forgo it in favor of satisfying the erupting volcano that resides in your lower belly. Aemond knows exactly which buttons to push with you, and no matter what you do here, there is no winning. Either you give him the satisfaction of hearing what he wants or the satisfaction of continuing to argue. He lives happily for both. It’s a question of knowing which wars are worth fighting and what the benefits of each are.

“Please, Aemond,” you finally whisper, letting your eyes grow rounder and waterier, giving him your best innocent, needy look, legs spreading wider as you rest your body fully on the table. It’s just your luck that with that movement the moonlight falls entirely on you, on the hair spread across the surface of the dark wood, the redness on your cheeks and heaving chest. “Please, just take me. I-I need this.”

It’s worth giving up your pride just for the wild, unsuspecting look Aemond gives you, lips parted in a husky growl that runs through your body like the most intimate magic.

Almost immediately he withdraws his thumb and lines himself up with your entrance and you cry out in surprise when his palms land on your waist, pulling your ass up to better meet his hips, your smaller hands darting to grip his wrists. He presses his tip into you at an excruciatingly slow pace, his gaze burning into yours with the unstoppable violence of a fiendfyre.

The discomfort of the welcome intrusion burning deliciously when he finally pushes in and — oh. You feel so stretched, and he hasn’t even started. Your lips part in a breathless half-scream, brows furrowing. He pushes a little further and you tense, a glorious, painful kind of pressure searing every nerve. You don’t remember it being like this with Cregan — but maybe that was just another consequence of how drunk you both were that night.

“Is — is it all in?” You ask weakly after what feels like an eternity, your nails destroying his wrists as you struggle for something to hold on to.

“Almost there, baby.” Aemond gasps, stroking your hips as he slowly but steadily drills into you. “You’re doing so good for me.” His lips meet yours in a sloppy, wet kiss that leaves you both breathless and your lips bruised. His own exhales start to end with a moan, and you writhe beneath him. It’s an unfamiliar pleasure to you, the kind where you weren’t sure if it was too much or too little, and Aemond hadn’t even started moving yet.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He groans into your mouth, grinding himself into you a little more, a half-maniacal and proud grin stretching his lips. “That mutt Stark didn’t do a very good job here, did he?”

“S-shut up!” You snarl, skin burning with embarrassment and anger at his words. “Don’t talk about him like that!”

“Shhh, I’m just kidding.” He smiles and kisses the tip of your nose soothingly, though he doesn’t seem the least bit remorseful.

“You’re doing so well, baby, taking me so fucking well,” he whispers, the words stirring in your stomach and making you forget the irritation immediately, clenching even tighter around him. He stifles a growl, dipping his fingers back between your legs, lightly stroking your swollen clit to ease the sting, and one inch at a time, he finally slides inside until he bottoms out inside you.

Meanwhile, you’re tottering on the fine line between too much and not enough. Aemond is long and solid and thick inside you, and the heat is beyond satisfying. You lie there, breathing rapidly, face flushed and eyelashes fluttering, brows furrowed and mouth open and panting. Nails digging into his wrists, legs shaking as they rise to wrap tightly around his waist.

“Please…” Is all you need to say before he’s making his move, his own face stained with lust and blush. He pulls out halfway before sinking back in, groaning hoarsely at the sensation. You’re already making inelegant gagging noises from deep inside, louder and more embarrassing than you could have imagined yourself capable of.

“Feels good, baby?” he pants, pulling out his cock before slamming it back into you as you sob, the pull of him inside you hitting every nerve and setting them on fire. “My cock feels good to you, love?”

“So good!” You moan more than speak, rocking your hips against his as best you can.

“Hmmm…better than him?”

“Aemond—”

“Answer me.”

You bite your lip, knowing there’s no way you should encourage him to do this kind of behavior. But between the overwhelming sensations he makes you feel and the intense gaze he’s giving you, all that have left is the truth.

“Y-yes. Merlin, yes. So much better...”

“Fuck, princess,” Aemond grunts, changing the angle and grinning wildly when it makes you moan louder. He targets that particular spot, watching the way you arch a little higher with each thrust. The sounds of your skin slapping together make you flush even more, though you barely hear it over Aemond’s ragged breathing and your own moans.

“Aemond—oh,” you gasp desperately, throwing your head back. “I-it feels so good,” you drawl, clawing at his wrists. “Please, please, I can’t take it.”

Then he’s reaching down, fingers twisting the front of your bra, pulling it down so his tongue slowly sweeps over one nipple, enveloping it in the warm, wet blanket of his mouth. The hand between your legs gains momentum and his thumb rolls over your clit as he latches onto your nipple and sucks. A high-pitched scream barely escapes your lips before his hand covers your mouth, continuing his merciless assault.

His hand cups the lower half of your face completely and that only makes your eyes roll back, the weight of his body on yours, his wet mouth on your breast, the restraint of your sounds, his deep thrusts, his thumb on your clit...

Your fingers sink into the silvery roots of his hair in a sharp tug, and the pain makes him gasp against your chest, and you chant his name mindlessly behind his broad palm. Static sizzles through your body, your orgasm building at an insane pace, and you meet him thrust for thrust.

When he looks up, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple, he stares at you so intently it makes you shiver, his thumb in your folds quickening. You run your own trembling thumb along his drooling bottom lip and watch him suck it into his wet, swollen mouth. You linger, touching the sharp tips of his canines, sliding across the softness of his tongue and gums before pulling your hand away. Aemond chases your thumb a little as he leans forward, but stops when you grab the leather strap of his eye patch.

The palm over your lips slowly pulls away, and you breathe in sharply, but don’t flinch. Holding his intense, drunken gaze, you push the thing away from his face, letting it fall to the floor with a thud neither of you cares about.

“Don’t stop, please — I’m so close,” you moan, pushing a few icy-white strands away from his face, wanting to see all of him as you shatters below. Aemond, with one missing eye and a cursed scar; that’s how you first saw him in the Great Hall, and that’s how you want to see him now, too.

If he’s shocked by your actions, he doesn’t show it. He’s still staring at you with a lazy expression, sweat starting to break out on his slightly flushed skin, his thrusts becoming more unbalanced, the rhythm faltering a little.

"Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fill you so fucking much, my wife—” he groans suddenly, the husky sound of his voice completely destroyed, and then he’s down to lock your mouths in a searing kiss, thrusting so hard into your pussy that the table creaks and slides a few inches across the floor.

But it’s the weight of that statement, his wife, spoken so brokenly and stunned, that finally makes you lose control, and your climax hits you.

“Cumming, cumming,” you cry into the tiny gap between your mouths as his rhythm quickens. His name leaves your lips again — muffled and choked — and your back arches off the table. You can feel his cock throb as the walls of your pussy clench and pulse around him with your orgasm.

And then he’s spilling himself into you, heated cum filling you as he still kisses you deeply, mouth wet and insistent. He makes a few rough, breathless noises into your mouth as he comes and you suck his tongue into your mouth, the climax rippling and lingering deliciously through you.

He relaxes the arm that was between your legs as you both lie there panting, coming down from your intense orgasms. Shifting his body slightly to support himself on forearms, he runs lazy, gentle kisses down your neck.

You stay like that for a while, his weight pressing down on you. Silence, except for the sound of each other’s breathing. You haven’t really allowed yourself to process the fact that he’s here; that Aemond, your future husband and sworn enemy, has cornered you tonight and confessed to wanting you despite strong evidence to the contrary. After years of not having a trace of him, he’s here, in the most intimate way possible. You tilt your head to the side to look at him again, to commit his features to memory in case he disappears from you once more.

Feeling your gaze, he does the same, humming contentedly; one calm, soft lavender eye, almost hidden beneath a thick layer of long lashes, the vibrant blue relic in the other eye, brows furrowed in contemplation for a brief moment. His fingers brush against your still flushed cheek, as if mapping out a secret that exists only for him. It doesn’t escape you that he makes no move to leave the wet heat between your legs — his member, still hard somehow, nestled comfortably within your silken walls.

“I’d really rather we didn’t wait until the wedding to do this again.”

His words, almost hesitant at their core, fill you with a kind of cautious anxiety, some foolish, ancient hope, long forgotten and locked away, surfacing once more. Your face burns with heat as you do your best to keep a expression neutral and collected, choosing the usual path when it comes to the two of you:

“If you wanted some kind of serious commitment you should have just said so, Targaryen. I wouldn’t mock your feelings.” You smile softly, blinking teasingly despite your trembling nerves. “Not much.”

He scoffs and roll his eye, though it’s obvious to both of you that you’re not necessarily saying no.

“I was thinking of it more for your own benefit, insufferable girl,” he grumbles sullenly. “You clearly didn’t have a good first experience and I just think it would be really tragic if you had to wait months to experience something so heavenly good as what I just offered you.”

You huff and press your face into his neck, failing miserably to suppress a laugh.

He’s so full of shit.

“I thought you hated me, anyway.”

“And I did.” He hums nonchalantly, making you part your lips in offense. He smiles at your shocked expression, tilting his face to brush his nose against yours.

“I hated you before I even met you, and I hated you even more the first time we met in the Great Hall and I realized there was absolutely nothing to hate about you. I hated that you were so captivating. I still hate that, I think.”

Your cheeks burn at the depth of his words and you look up at the ceiling, pursing your bottom lip in a sullen pout to cover the fluttering in your stomach.

“You made me feel insecure about my teeth for years after that day, you know?”

He huffs out a short laugh at the memory, cupping your jaw to guide your face to his again.

"Well, they were a little out of proportion..." He taps his thumb gently across the top of your lips until it pokes at your two front teeth, a strangely fond glint in his gaze and a small, amused smile. "Right here."

With a slight, offended swat and blushing even more, you struggle to pull his hand away.

"Of course they were out of proportion, you big insensitive! I was only eleven, still in the growth phase."

"That sounds like an excuse to me. I was eleven too and I wasn't like that."

He sounds smug now, and you hate that he's right. Even at the young age when, inevitably, almost everyone was gangly and awkward in one way or another, Aemond was still an irritatingly beautiful child - even brutally scarred with the loss of his eye and the scar. With pale, delicate features and chubby but perfectly proportioned cheeks, he looked like a spoiled little prince at the time.

He still looks like a spoiled prince now.

“No more pretending,” he confesses reluctantly after a while of poorly hidden laughter, as if it hurts him to be so honest about his feelings. “I’m not sure I can keep denying how much I crave for this. For you.”

A quiet surprise spreads across your features at the admission and you reach out to him, intertwining your fingers. You hadn’t realized that everything had been so…mutual — the forced hatred and provocations, for sure, but not the feelings either.

“Mmm,” you hum softly after a while, hope flickering through you brighter as Aemond’s steady gaze lingers on yours, your bodies still intimately joined over this table in an abandoned classroom. “I suppose it’s probably time we faced head on this despicable fate that awaits us.”

Aemond’s answering smile is rare and absolutely breathtaking.

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giannan04 · 6 months ago

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mean dom jungwon putting you in handcuffs pleaseeee

OMG I love this request! It took me days but it’s finally posted! I had the time of my life writing this and I hope you love it! Thanks for requesting!🫶🏻

—

Pairing: Jealous BF! Jungwon X Afab! Reader

Genre:SMUT!, slight ANGST, Established Relationship AU

Warnings: HEAVY SMUT! Slight BDSM (reader is in handcuffs), MEAN DOM! Jungwon, Slight dumbification (if you squint), choking, Oral Sex! (Both M & F receiving), throat-fucking, Unprotected sex (is BAD), cream-pie, P in V, angst, some fluff at the end, I think that’s it!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT‼️🔞

Your boyfriend Jungwon’s frustration (and jealousy) boil over when you come home late from the movies with Jake, a mutual friend who has always given him bad vibes. Despite your assurances that Jake is just a friend, Jungwon’s jealousy and anger reach a breaking point. Convinced that Jake’s intentions are not as innocent as you claim, Jungwon confronts you about your friendship with him, trying to tell you that Jake doesn’t want to be just your best friend. Tired of you being so naive, Jungwon decides it’s time he puts you in your place and shows you exactly who you belong to…

—-

Jungwon was standing in the shower, hot water streaming down his body as he ran a hand through his wet hair. He realized that you still weren’t home, even though you were supposed to be back from the movies by now. Bitterness settled deep in his chest. He’d been annoyed from the moment you told him you were going to see the new ‘Deadpool’ movie with your best friend, Jake, but now, his frustration was rising as it was getting dark outside, and you were still gone.

Jake was someone you both knew—mutual friend—but Jungwon hated that Jake wanted to go with just you. He had always suspected Jake had feelings for you, even though you insisted it was nothing. Still, Jungwon couldn’t forget the way Jake looked at you sometimes, casting you lingering glances and flirtatious smiles that were far too familiar; Jungwon would look at you that way before you two were together. He thought back to the countless times Jake had crossed the line. Like the time Jake 'jokingly' grabbed your waist at that party, or the time he was a little too eager to take pictures with you at the amusement park, standing too close, touching too much. Or the time he caught Jake looking up your skirt when you were all at the mall; and when Jungwon confronted him, he just brushed it off, not even denying it. Or the many times Jake always told Jungwon how “lucky he was to have you.” Jungwon gritted his teeth at the memories. And you, always too naive to see it. You kept insisting Jake was just a friend, that he was only being friendly because you were his best friend.

Jungwon let out a frustrated sigh as he stepped out of the shower, quickly drying himself off and getting dressed. Now he was getting worried—why weren’t you home yet?

Just as he was about to grab his phone, headlights flashed through the window. Jungwon crossed the room to the open window and looked down, seeing Jake’s car pull up in front of the house. He watched as Jake walked around the car to open your door, a smile on his face as you stepped out. Jungwon’s jaw clenched when he heard Jake’s voice through the cracked window.

“I’m really glad we got to spend time together, just the two of us,” Jake said, his tone light and flirty.

You laughed in response, completely unaware of the tension that was brewing upstairs. “Yeah, it was fun.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrowed as he saw Jake lean in for a kiss, but you turned around too late, completely missing his advance. Still, the sight of Jake trying to kiss you set Jungwon off. He stormed downstairs just as you walked through the door.

“What the hell was that?” Jungwon’s voice was sharp as you closed the door behind you.

You looked up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You and Jake! I saw what happened outside. He tried to kiss you.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “No, he didn’t—”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Jungwon snapped, stepping closer to you. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he flirts with you. And you, just letting it happen. Are you really that naive? Or do you just crave attention? Do I not give you enough?!”

Your face flushed with embarrassment. “I swear, Jungwon, I didn’t know he was going to do that. Jake’s just my friend.”

“Just your friend?” Jungwon scoffed. “Do you really think he sees you that way?”

“Yes! Jake’s been my best friend for years, he’s never tried anything. He’s also your friend, he wouldn’t do that to you.”

Jungwon ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’re so fucking clueless sometimes. You have no idea how guys like him think. He doesn’t just want to be your friend.”

The argument went on, Jungwon growing more and more pissed as you tried to defend your friendship with Jake. But Jungwon wasn’t having it.

“Enough,” he finally said, his voice cold and commanding. He rubbed his eyes, passed off and annoyed. “You’re going to learn who you belong to. I’m tired of this shit.”

Before you could say anything, Jungwon grabbed your wrist and pulled you upstairs to the bedroom. The door slammed shut behind you, and his eyes were dark with a mix of anger and lust.

“Take your clothes off. Now,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your heart raced as you fumbled to obey, quickly undressing under his intense gaze. Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, he reached into the nightstand and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to say something, but before you could react, he had you pinned down on the bed and your wrists were locked in place behind your back.

Jungwon’s eyes flashed as he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You’re going to learn your place tonight,” he growled.

He was rough from the start, his hands gripping your body as he pushed you deeper into the bed. Jungwon was always rough with you in the bedroom, but you had a feeling that this time would be different. The cool metal of the handcuffs bit into your wrists as you struggled against the restraint, but it only seemed to fuel his desire. And you weren’t gonna lie, it was turning you on. His mouth was on you in an instant, trailing hot kisses down your body until his lips reached your core. Without warning, his tongue flicked over your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

“Look at you, already so wet,” he murmured against your skin. “Did you get this worked up thinking about Jake?”

You shook your head, breathless. “N-no—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Jungwon growled, his fingers slipping inside you, curling in a way that made your eyes flutter and see stars. “I know exactly what you need. I’m the only one who can give it to you.”

Jungwon relentlessly teased your clit with his tongue, with his fingers moving in and out of you at a punishing pace. Your mind started to blur as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, but Jungwon didn’t stop. He pushed you further, taking his jealousy out on you as you whimpered beneath him.

“Such a dumb little thing,” he taunted, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re so fucking naive, letting him get so close to you. You’re mine, you hear me? No one else’s.”

You could barely form a coherent thought as your body shook from the intensity of it all. His fingers were hitting your g-spot just right. “Fuck, Jungwon. I’m close…” your cunt tightly clenched around his fingers as you came, and Jungwon just kept going. You felt like you were losing control, but Jungwon kept pushing you, not letting you come down from the high.

When he finally pulled away, you were a trembling mess, but he wasn’t done with you yet. Jungwon stood up, sucking your juices off of his fingers, his eyes dark as he grabbed your hair and forced you onto your knees. With a smirk, he pulled down his sweatpants, revealing his throbbing, erect cock. You nearly dropped at the sight.

“You’re going to take it,” he ordered, his grip on your face tightening. “And you’re not going to talk to Jake ever again.”

He gripped the base of his cock, the tip already leaking with precum, as he tapped it against your lips. “Tongue out,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. You complied without hesitation, your lips parting as you obediently stuck your tongue out, letting it brush against the swollen head of his dick.

Slowly, you swirled your tongue around the tip, savoring the salty taste of his precum. Your lips then wrapped around him, creating a tight seal as you started sucking him off, your mouth moving in slow, deliberate strokes. Saliva began to pool, dripping down over his shaft, coating him in slick warmth. You moaned around his cock, the vibrations sending shivers through Jungwon’s body.

He groaned deeply, his head falling back slightly. “Fuck, baby, you suck my dick so well,” he panted, his voice husky with pleasure. But you could tell he was growing impatient. Jungwon always craved more, always wanted to take control. His grip on your hair tightened, and before you could prepare yourself, he thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock deeper into your throat.

The sudden movement made you gag, your throat constricting around him as he pushed himself deeper, relentless in his pace. His hand on your head kept you firmly in place, and tears began to sting your eyes as he fucked your mouth. Your nose was nearly buried in his abdomen, the overwhelming sensation of him filling your throat almost too much to handle, but you knew better than to pull away.

“You understand me?” Jungwon growled, his voice ragged. “You’re mine. Only mine.”

Jungwon continued to thrust into your throat, his hands tangling in your hair. His cock was so far deep that you felt the tip grazing your tonsils as he fucked your throat, his balls slapping against your lips and chin. Droplets of tears rolled down your cheeks and you were gagging, but in a weird way, you loved the feeling of your boyfriend using your throat like this. “Mmmmm”, you groaned, the tip of his dick grazing your tonsils.

Jungwon moaned, "Fuck, I’m about to cum." Without warning, he stopped moving and held your head still, his cock twitching in your mouth, pressing against the inside of your cheeks. You felt his warm seed shoot into the back of your throat, the sweet and salty taste filling your mouth. As you pulled away, a thin string of his cum lingered on your bottom lip. Jungwon leaned his head back, eyes closed, and sighed. “Fuck, baby, you’re so nasty to me. Jake wishes you could suck his dick like that.”

But Jungwon wasn’t satisfied. He craved more—he wanted to destroy you, to remind you of your place after spending time with Jake. Roughly cupping your cheek, he said, "I’m not taking those off yet, baby," gesturing to the handcuffs. "I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet. Jake will never be able to fuck you the way I do. When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember that asshole’s name."

Jungwon roughly kissed you as he inserted his fingers into you, to make sure your pussy was ready for him. He pulled away and smirked. “Still wet, only I can turn you on like this.” He pushed you back into the bed, spreading your legs apart. “Don’t close your legs, or I’ll make sure you suffer way more.” “Yes, Jungwon”, you complied, laying on the bed with your legs spread far apart and your arms handcuffed behind your back.

Jungwon grabbed his erect cock, rubbing the head onto your swollen clit, teasing you. “Jungwonnn, ohmygod”. You were so impatient; his teasing felt good, but you needed more. Jungwon placed his rand hand on your neck, gripping it tightly, as he used his other hand to push his dick into you.

“Fuuuck.” The feeling of his erect, curved length felt so good. But Jungwon didn’t give you time to savor it. He immediately starting thrusting inside you, his grip on your waist hard enough to leave bruises behind. His right hand still gripped your throat, lightly choking you. “Fuck, baby, your pussy is so so good. And it’s all mine, you’re never giving my pussy away.” He moaned breathlessly, his thrusts getting stronger each time. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the small bedroom.

“Jungwon, I’m already close,” you moaned uncontrollably, your eyelids fluttering as you felt Jungwon’s erect cock throb inside of you.

“Me too, baby,” Jungwon’s grip tightened around your throat as his thrusts became more erratic. He looked down at you, his grip on your throat loosening. He kissed your forehead, continuing his erratic thrusts.

“Cum first baby.” You nodded, feeling pleasure course through your body as you came. Jungwon’s thrusts became light while you came, your cum coating his dick perfectly. “Fuck, Jungwon. I feel so good,” you cried out. Your legs trembled and lay flat on the bed. Jungwon finally reached his climax, his cum filling your hole perfectly. The warm feeling felt amazing to you, and you both moaned while his dick twitched inside you, filling you up.

When he finally pulled away, your body was spent, your throat raw. Jungwon’s demeanor had shifted. He uncuffed you, gently rubbing your wrists as he laid you back down on the bed. He kissed your body, showing extra love to the marks left by his thumbs on your waist and neck. Jungwon lay on the bed, gently pulling you on top of him while you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his neck.

“I know you and Jake are just friends,” he said quietly, his fingers tracing your skin as he wiped away the sweat. “But I see the way he looks at you. It drives me crazy.”

You nodded, still catching your breath. “I won’t talk to him anymore,” you whispered, agreeing without hesitation. You loved and needed Jungwon, and you weren’t going to let Jake ruin your relationship.

Jungwon leaned down, starting to clean you off, and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I don’t want to share you with anyone.”

You felt his hands on you, soft and gentle now as he took care of you, wiping away the remnants of sweat and cum. But when he realized how much he had missed, he chuckled.

“Looks like we need a shower,” he said, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom.

The warmth of the water surrounded you both as Jungwon stood behind you, washing your hair and body with a tenderness that was in stark contrast to the roughness from earlier. Jungwon used one arm to wash you off, and one arm to hold you in place so you wouldn’t fall, as your legs were wobbly and you were still trembling a bit. He kissed your neck softly, whispering reassurances as the water cascaded over your bodies. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his arms wrapped around your waist. “Always.”

——-

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witchingwithscissors · 15 days ago

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Divorce Lawyer Rio/Brewery Owner Agatha + I’m 🍃 = this sapphicy AU thing. Ps I’m an elder millennial so I don’t know how to flip the gif so just imagine they’re seated across from each other in your terror dome.

Rio hadn’t meant to stay this late.

She had only stopped into Cinder & Grain because her usual bar was packed, and she wasn’t in the mood for small talk or lingering stares. She wanted a drink, a quiet corner, and maybe a moment to forget she’d spent the last eight hours in her office breaking apart marriages for a living.

She didn’t expect her.

The bartender. Agatha, according to the embroidered patch on her worn-in T-shirt, moved like she belonged to the space. Effortlessly pouring drinks, laughing at someone’s joke, and running a towel over the bar top with absentminded ease. She had the kind of presence that made people lean in, that made a room feel warmer just by being in it.

And, at some point, her eyes caught Rio’s.

She looked once. Quickly. Then twice. Lingering. And before Rio could pretend not to notice, Agatha was sliding into the booth across from her, elbows resting on the table like they’d done this a hundred times before.

“You’re not a regular,” Agatha said, tapping a finger against Rio’s whiskey glass.

Rio raised an eyebrow. “That obvious?”

Agatha smirked. “Whiskey neat? In a brewery?” She shook her head. “Yeah, that stands out.”

Rio exhaled through her nose, amused. “I don’t do beer.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Agatha said, leaning back like she had all the time in the world. “I was just about to offer you my favorite one.”

Rio smirked. “Would it change your mind if I said I was allergic?”

Agatha tilted her head, considering. “Not unless you’re actually allergic.”

“I just don’t like it.”

Agatha sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Tragic.” Then, after a beat, “Let me guess… you’re a lawyer.”

That made Rio pause. “That obvious?”

Agatha grinned. “You have that whole I could argue you out of your own drink order look about you.”

Rio let out a short laugh. “I’d be offended, but you’re not wrong.”

“Lucky guess.” Agatha drummed her fingers on the table, studying her for a second. “Wait! Fuck, hold on.” A flicker of recognition flashed in her expression. “You’re that hot witch lawyer, aren’t you? The one from that billboard a few years ago?”

Rio smirked. “Depends. What do you remember?”

Agatha snapped her fingers. “It had a fucking witch pun… ugh what was it? Something like—”

“Don’t Let Them Hex Half Your Assets.”

Agatha pointed at her, grinning. “That’s the one.”

“Wow,” Rio mused, swirling her drink. “A woman remembers my face… from my shitty divorce ad. That’s a first.”

“I mean, you made an impression.” Agatha smirked. “Some part of me wanted to call just to see if you were actually that dramatic in person.”

Rio lifted a brow. “And?”

Agatha’s gaze flickered lower, slow, deliberate. “Still deciding.”

The way she said it sent something warm through Rio’s chest. No, maybe lower.

This was flirting. Definitely flirting.

Rio should have finished her drink, thanked Agatha for the company, and gone home. She had an early morning conference call she had to be on camera for. But she didn’t go home yet.

Instead, she leaned in slightly, watching the way Agatha tracked her movement. “Alright,” Rio said. “Let’s test something, then.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Test?”

Rio reached for the glass Agatha had brought with her, half-filled with some dark amber brew, the kind that looked deceptively rich and smooth.

She picked it up, took a slow sip, and waited.

The taste hit her tongue. Not bitter like she expected, but something layered, something full, with just the faintest hint of brown butter honey at the end. Good. Really good.

Agatha was watching her closely, eyes flicking to her lips as Rio swallowed.

Finally, Rio set the glass down, tilting her head. “Alright. I’ll admit it.”

Agatha quirked an eyebrow. “Admit what?”

Rio let out a slow, heated breath, voice dipping lower. “I never realized how hungry I was… until I tasted you.”

The words hung between them, heavier than she expected, and for the first time all night, Agatha didn’t have a quick reply.

She just looked at her. Really took her in.

Then, finally, Agatha let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “That was fucking smooth.”

Rio smirked. “I know.”

“You always this bold?”

“Only when it works.”

Agatha’s lips twitched. “And what makes you think it’s working?”

Rio leaned in just a fraction more, voice dipping lower. “Because you haven’t looked away from my mouth since I picked up that glass.”

Agatha drew in a sharp breath, hesitation flickering for only a moment before instinct took over. Her fingers slipped around Rio’s wrist, her touch light but possessive, her thumb tracing a slow, teasing stroke over the rapid beat of her pulse.

Rio’s breath hitched.

Agatha didn’t say anything at first, just let her touch linger.

Then, quietly, “Tell me to stop.”

Rio’s fingers twitched, itching to close the space between them entirely. Instead, she tilted her chin, holding Agatha’s gaze steady. “Not a chance.”

And that was it.

Agatha moved first, sliding closer, brushing her lips against Rio’s in a way that wasn’t desperate, wasn’t rushed… just a slow, lingering confirmation of something inevitable.

The kiss was warm, unhurried. Testing. Tasting. Teasing.

Agatha let her fingers trail along Rio’s wrist, anchoring her there. Rio parted her lips slightly, letting her lean in deeper, letting the taste of the beer linger between them.

By the time they pulled apart, Rio was breathless, and Agatha looked entirely too pleased with herself.

“Damn,” Rio muttered.

Agatha exhaled a soft laugh, thumb brushing against Rio’s wrist one last time before letting go. “That’s one way to convert you to beer.”

Rio huffed, shaking her head as she reached for her glass again, lips still tingling. “I’m still not a beer person.”

Agatha smirked, leaning back, her gaze lingering on Rio’s mouth with clear amusement. “Sure you aren’t.”

A charged pause passed between them only long enough for Rio to feel the echo of Agatha’s touch warm against her wrist. She wanted to stay. Wanted to close the distance again. But instead, she grabbed a bar napkin, scribbled something across it, and slid it across the table, letting her fingers brush against Agatha’s one last time.

Agatha waited until Rio was nearly out the door before picking it up. She raised an eyebrow at the neat digits beneath a single name: Rio. Flipping it over, she caught a hint of laughter in her own breath as she read the note scrawled on the back:

“If you’re still deciding, let me know when you’ve made up your mind.”

Her lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile. Rolling the napkin between her fingers, she slipped it into her back pocket, already imagining Rio’s voice on the other end of the line.

Outside, Rio paused on the sidewalk, glancing over her shoulder through the window. Their eyes met in a heated, unspoken promise.

Yeah.

Agatha would definitely be calling.

#agatha all along #agathario #rio vidal #agatha harkness #agathario au #modern domestic agathario makes me asdfghjkl

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pucksandpower · 2 years ago

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Charles Leclerc x Wolff!Reader x Max Verstappen - Social Media AU

Little (Ferrari) Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad She Wolff

Love is in the air for these two stars of the paddock! Brace yourselves as we spill the scorching hot tea on the newest potential pairing that has set tongues wagging. The grapevine is buzzing with the latest snapshots capturing none other than Ferrari’s golden boy, Charles Leclerc, and the stunning princess of the paddock, Y/N Wolff, in what can only be described as a romantic rendezvous. Oh la la! In these sizzling photos the duo can be seen cozied up in the VIP section, captivated by each other’s company and stuck in their own world, ignorant of the busy club around them. The obvious sparks between the young heartthrobs leave fans and gossip hounds wondering if there is more than just friendship brewing between them … (Read More)

A Wolff on the Prowl: Y/N Wolff spotted getting cozy with Max Verstappen

Hold onto your racing helmets because our newest racing romance just took an unexpected twist! We had barely caught our breath from the sizzling chemistry between Charles Leclerc and Y/N Wolff when another speedster entered the picture. Some lucky fans caught Y/N locking lips with the reigning world champion, Max Verstappen, leaving us all in a state of utter shock and awe. It’s a tale as old as time, with Y/N and Max gazing into each other’s eyes like they have discovered the key to the podium of love. The intensity between these two is palpable and their beaming smiles suggest that this could be more than just a passing fling. Will this newfound affair send shockwaves through F1, leaving Charles Leclerc heartbroken and fans breathless? Buckle up, dear readers, as we brace ourselves to see how this unfolds … (Read More)

y/nwolff posted a story

Just an inchident? Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen seem closer than ever despite their apparent battle for the heart of Y/N Wolff

Rev your engines because the race for Y/N Wolff’s heart is reaching exhilarating speeds! While the rivalry between Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen is as fierce as ever on the track, it seems that outside of the race itself a surprising bond has formed between these two young stars. Interestingly, during the Austrian Grand Prix cameras caught Leclerc and Verstappen sharing an incredibly close friendship. Despite their fierce competition for Y/N’s affection earlier this week, the two drivers were spotted laughing, hugging, and inseparable whenever they had a chance, proving that friendship can indeed thrive in the midst of romantic tension. Are they genuinely defying expectations and putting their hearts on hold for the sake of camaraderie or is this just a cleverly orchestrated PR move? Only time will reveal the true nature of this intriguing friendship and love triangle they are part of … (Read More)

y/nwolff

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 1,285,493 others

y/nwolff Happy Pride Month 😉

View all 4,762 comments

charles_leclerc mes amours ❤️

maxverstappen1 mijn liefdes ❤️

y/nwolff my boy toys 🥵

charles_leclerc i see how it is

maxverstappen1 she only wants us for our bodies

y/nwolff kidding, kidding. i love you both more than anything ❤️

y/nwolff and of course i don’t only want you for your bodies … i want you for your cars too

mercedesamgf1 Oh

redbullracing My

scuderiaferrari God

feralferrari this is not what i was expecting

givesyouwings i don’t think anyone predicted this but they are adorable together

silverarrows y/n has the power to build one of the most insane driver lineups ever for mercedes

y/nwolff they have to survive meeting my dad after he learns that we’re together before we can even think about that 😅

lestappenbeliever this is the best day of my life

formulanone we got married a week ago?

lestappenbeliever i said what i said but our wedding was a close second

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risuola · 9 months ago

Text

ENTRY #15 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I love the way you kiss me.

contents: arranged marriage!au, tooth-rotting fluff, kisses (duh) — wc. 994

a/n: i just can't help myself, i love fluff with this man

series masterlist

Satoru loves morning kisses.

Your lips like a warm ray of sun graze the skin of his cheek, a feather-like brush that makes his heart do backflips in his chest. You’re a bliss that coats his years-troubled soul in honey, you’re sweet on his tongue. You’re his favorite taste, his most beloved candy, you’re all he’s ever wanted and had no idea he needed. Your kisses are soothing, they are a melody he wants on repeat, they are the kick of power that gets him going every day.

He’s convinced you do magic — he feels the sparkles bubbling in his skin whenever your lips press to his cheek or forehead. Shivers run down his spine when he feels your nose against the side of his neck. And it’s so innocent. You’re like an angel that’s taken him under your wing, you gave him hope and he wants to worship you. He wants to thank you for changing the life he’s deemed meaningless years and years ago. You brought light into his darkness and showed him the way when he was lost.

You kiss him quickly and he thinks that you can’t tell how much it means to him. You kiss him so naturally, as if you truly love him and sometimes he wonders if he’ll ever be able to earn all the feeling you offered him. It’s a peck, nothing more, but it’s enough for his heart to swell in his chest, bloom like a flower that he wishes to give you. And then, you’re going about your day, making breakfast or coffee, brewing tea and pouring honey and he tries to help you, show you how much he cares, how much he loves you. He’s stealing touches — soft brushes of your arms, little bumps of your hips against his, the gentle nudges and swipes whenever you reach for the same thing or pass next to each other. Yeah, he cherishes all of those and sometimes he earns himself another kiss from you. Sometimes you press your lips against him again and if he’s really lucky, you’d kiss his lips. Then you’re chuckling, patting his chest and swatting him away because once he gets you in his arms, he’s not willing to let go.

The way your body melts in his arms is enough of a reason to kiss you more. He likes to trap you against the kitchen counter, to sit you up on the table or pull you onto his lap. His long arms wrap around you, he wants to feel your heartbeat, he wants to feel you squirm in his grasp and vibrate when you purr or giggle. When he’s feeling particularly needy (everyday), he’s having you wrapped around his waist, your delicious thighs hooked onto his hips and his hands comfortable on your butt as he gets lost in the sensation of your tongue. And then you’re tugging his hair and biting his lip, telling him that the tea is getting cold and the food is drying out and he couldn’t care less when he lounges forward once more, capturing you in another searing kiss.

Then, Satoru is late for work and you barely make it on time. You apologize and he’s sheepish about it. Satoru loves his morning kisses.

And he loves the late-night ones too.

The ones when both of you are after work, not caring about the world anymore and focusing on the warmth. He’d have you close to his chest, on the couch. His mouth works lazily against yours, slow and sensual as the tv hums in the background — yet another episode of the series that none of you follow enough to know what’s going on in the plot. It’s dark outside and in the room, the screen casts an eerie glow on you and him as he keeps you in his arms and he doesn’t rush it.

You’d have your forehead against his, your noses brushing back and forth and he loves the subtle intimacy it brings. Your dainty fingers dance along his nape, nails brush through his undercut teasing his sensitive skin. You talk quietly, murmuring little stories about how the day went — all between the soft pecks and passionate kisses. And he’d tell you he loves you; his mouth moves on his own as his breath carries the words, delivering them straight from his heart and into your skin — he wants to engrave them onto you, he wants you to know that he cherishes you more than he’s capable of showing. That he loves you more than he’d ever be able to put in words and then, he’d thank you for saying it back because he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. You think he’s cute and assure him that he is more than enough, kissing him to prove your point.

He loves the late-night kisses. The ones when you’re in bed with him, your faces millimeters away as he admires your beauty in silence. You’re sleepy and don’t talk much anymore but he devotes his last moments of consciousness to take you in. His palm cradles your cheek and his thumb runs over your lid and down the bridge of your nose until it reaches the ups of your lips and he stops there. He feels the softness of your lower lip underneath the pad of his finger, he makes your mouth part slightly and feels the warm breath escaping them.

He brings his lips towards yours and a soft purr rumble in your chest — the kiss is gentle, just barely a touch but he’s content with it. It’s warm and plush, lips brushing against each other in the feather-like dance. There’s no tongue or teeth, there’s no rush or urgency. It’s a silent goodnight and he feels the sleep slowly taking him away. Satoru moves higher, kissing the tip of your nose and your forehead and you use your last movements to nuzzle into his neck as he nuzzles into your hair.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe @fortunatelyfurrygiver @lolita-h @sweetpo1son @myahfig4 @zurakoofgintama

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kookieskookiejar · 2 months ago

Text

Star Wars AU

Dark Lord Jungkook x Rebellion Rookie Jedi Reader

Synopsis:

When you're captured by The New Order, you were sure the end of your life would come sooner than later, and being a rebellion pandawan, you've accepted death long before it came knocking, and you knew it'd come any time, just not this soon. However, what you didn't expect was to learn how to live under the man everyone fears.

Warnings under the cut!

Warnings: Mild bloodshed, mild slowburn, inaccurate depictions of the star wars universe (I'm sorry, I tried my best 😅), low-key tsundere Jungkook, age gap but both consenting adults, fluff, smut, face sitting, unprotected s*x, ch*king, body worship, Jungkook is a whipped mess ngl.

A/N: DON'T LIKE DON'T READ, SCROLL AND MOVE ON.

The cold cell was almost unbearable, you were obviously not dressed for this, thinking you’d be in Tatooine for a few days for a mission with your master along with the other fellow padawans, and now here you are, surrounded by four concrete walls, not even with your force could you break yourself out, you’re no Luke Skywalker, not even a window in this goddamn cell, not even a water bowl, the paper cup they had given you now drained next to you, your throat parched even though you haven’t spoken a word.

You kick the paper cup out of anger, this wasn’t supposed to happen, if only your master took your advice and ran for it, it was obvious that all of you were outnumbered, especially with him in the equation, you shudder, recalling the chill that ran down your spine, the scene was everyone’s worst nightmare, seeing that red lightsaber glow in the dark, his cape bellowing whilst a sandstorm brews behind because of the engine of his ship.

Lord Jungkook is his name, and he’s the current leader of The New Order, and he’s as ruthless as they come, everyone who used to know him describes him as a cold blooded killer, that he strives to prove himself to be even more cruel than Darth Vader, that he wanted to exceed the image of what was deemed the best, or the worst, depending on your political stance.

You muster up a weak depreciating chuckle, all your life, abandoned by your parents, sacrificing your childhood for the never ending training, and for what? Just to die this fucking soon in a worn down cell.

Your life has no meaning, all that pain and all those sleepless nights for nothing, no one’s going to remember you, you’ll just be another statistic, if you’re lucky enough that is, so many jedis are killed and no one finds out until months later, and that’s if they found the body or someone heard the news through word of mouth.

Before you could spiral any further down, someone unlocks your cell, three stormtroopers march in, heaving you up to your feet.

“Walk, and don’t try anything funny,” the clone demanded, his blaster pointed right at the juncture of your neck.

You don’t know where they’re taking you, every hallway looks the same, the same stark white hallway with lights that are too bright for your eyes, now you know why everyone wears a goddamn helmet here, you’re getting a migraine just from walking these few minutes.

When you finally reach a lift to the top floor, you were surprised by the dark interior, and that’s when you feel it, the same chilling feeling running down your spine, your hairs standing on its ends, immediately scanning your surroundings, looking for a way out.

“Don’t even think about it, walk,” the guard next to you says while the other requests for entrance with the other guard that’s sitting at the reception, the one next to you, stiffens up when those doors slid open.

There, a figure stands with their front facing the windows that show the beautiful red planet at a distance, the planet looking so much smaller from this height.

Jungkook is so much taller from a closer distance, you can see the back of his head, his hair gelled neatly, his helmet perched on the windowsill.

When the troopers leave, he finally turns to look at you, and you stop breathing briefly, not because of his force, but because of how drop dead gorgeous he is, his big piercing eyes stare right into your soul, his face screwed into an emotionless expression, but one thing that you can just tell from his face is that he’s not someone who’d let someone off lightly if he gets pissed off.

“You’re the one who tried to throw that boulder at my face, you’re more powerful than the other padawans” he states, rounding his desk with slow strides, his eyes calculating every micro expression that you refuse to show.

“Why? Hurt your pride?” you asked, sarcasm dripping in your tone, might as well piss him off and have his lightsaber plunged in your abdomen, it’s better to make this death quick.

“No, in fact, you piqued my interest, you’re not like the others, you’re smart, more powerful, I bet you’re not your master’s favourite, you intimidate him too much, I bet, I can offer you so much more,” Jungkook offers, leaning back onto his desk as he watches you with a quirk of his lips, his first expression of the night.

“No thanks, training under you would be even worse than that old man, just kill me like how you probably had the rest of them killed,” you say after a heave of dry laughter, that’s all you could muster up right now.

“It’d be a waste to just kill you, it’d be wasting too much potential, and I promise I’ll reward you generously, I’ll appreciate you more than that old geezer,” Jungkook banters, as if he could just tell from your face that you were treated unfairly under your master, now you know why he’s at the top, when he can’t kill his way up, he sweet talks his way through.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” you ask, pulling the thin jacket closer to your body for warmth, is this guy numb to feeling cold even?

“I won’t, you have my word… isn’t this arrangement better than death?” Jungkook says with a quirk of his brow.

“I thought someone like you would understand that death is better than many things in life in a time like this,” you say, looking into the dark space, gaze faraway, suddenly lost in thought, death feels very welcoming now, after what you've been through, and how there seems to be nothing waiting for you in the future.

You got so used to the feeling of Jungkook’s presence that you didn’t even realise he was next to you until he draped his jacket over your shoulders.

“I see myself in you, I won’t be like your old master, you might be wondering why I’d choose to do this… let’s just say, I don’t want you to end up in worse hands,” Jungkook says with an amusing glimmer in his eyes.

“Aren’t you the worst of them all?” you ask, turning to him, the movement has his scent wafting up your nostrils, and boy doesn’t he smell refreshing against all the desensitised clones and their hard suits.

“To others maybe, but I’m willing to be better towards you, it’s always only been a matter of choice for me,” Jungkook’s nowhere near a good person, but hearing him say this, when his hands are stained with endless bloodshed of his victims; it’s as if he could sense what you’re thinking because he speaks up before you could.

“I only kill those who don’t surrender…half of the time at least,” Jungkook adds after checking the stats at the back of his head, he doesn’t enjoy sugarcoating.

“Fine, but I’m blasting myself out of space with no oxygen if you piss me off,” you don’t why you’re agreeing to his offer when pretty much lost any desire to continue living on this life, it’s a stretch to hope that being on the dark side would be any better, but you’re willing to try, you have nothing to lose afterall.

Training with Jungkook is hard, but you don’t feel as burnt out, maybe it’s also the fact that Jungkook is a busy man, hence training never goes beyond 3 hours, it could be also the fact that you are very well fed here, no more fearing for a lack of supplies or eating beyond your limit when you’re no longer a pandawan under your master who was always on the run with a bunch of other pandawans where everything was stretched thin.

Today is no different, other than the fact that you’re blind folded, you’ve done this before, but you’re definitely no match against the Lord of the dark side of all people.

“You have to focus on the force, don’t be intimidated by my presence, just act like I’m R9F7,” you hear Jungkook say before you hear the robot himself speak up.

“Master, Miss almost took off my entire arm the last time I trained with her!” The robot speaks up in panic.

“Well I’m not you, am I? It’ll take a lot more to take off my arm,” Jungkook says before he deflects the metal stick in your hand, “Good job, you’re doing much better,” Jungkook praises before you manage to catch him again, having managed to pinpoint his presence, a brief sword fight breaks out between the two of you before Jungkook calls for a stop, his nimble fingers taking off your blindfold.

“Good job, you’re dismissed for the day, join me for dinner later, I’ll send R9F7 to fetch you,” Jungkook says before he retreats to the other side of the training room where the gym equipments are at, starting his own training of the day, he never fails to keep his body in its best condition.

“Dinner, with who?” you ask, usually you just eat with everyone else in the canteen where everyone else goes to, there’s not many places to go to on this ship anyways, but you’ve never seen Jungkook go down to have dinner with anyone else, you assume he eats in his own quarters or something.

“Just me, why? I’m not enough for you now, is that it?” Jungkook asks, obviously joking, but you can't read his expression, given that he's currently doing pull ups, his arms and back slightly distracting to you, just the slightest, you tell yourself.

“No! It’s just that, I thought you needed to show up to some event and I needed to show up or something,” you say, thanking R9F7 for fetching you a glass of water.

“I don’t have an audience with anyone yet, maybe in a month’s time, this is just a casual dinner,” Jungkook tells you while he starts doing his archer pull ups, and you’re so glad that damn robot had gone to refill your glass of water, that damn metal head cannot know you’re gawking at the way Jungkook’s arms flex against his weight, muscles rippling while your mouth waters.

“Y-yeah, okay, is there anything else?” you ask after snapping yourself out of that trance that’s stronger than any force.

“No, you’re free to leave if you want to,” Jungkook says, “but you have lessons with Captain Yoongi right?” Jungkook, being the busy man he is, sure is very clear with your schedule.

“Yeah,” you confirm, preparing to take your leave.

“Don’t crash into anymore asteroids, we have limited fighter ships on this ship, when we’re back on base, you can start making more mistakes,” Jungkook reminds you, obviously poking fun at you, if the tone wasn’t obvious enough, the slight upturn of his lips is a giveaway when he drops himself down to face you, you’re slightly taken aback, this is definitely not what most people see when they interact with Jungkook.

“If I’m making more mistakes when we’re back to base then I’m a failure,” you say with a huff after gathering your bearings, recalling all the moments your old master called you that.

“In all of my years of experience, I’ve met many failures, and you’re definitely not one, being bad at something is nature, being bad at fying a ship isn’t the end of the world, I could always get you a droid to do it, you just need to know how to get yourself out of an emergency if the droid isn’t available, it’s not a big deal,” Jungkook says before he finishes his set, the joking tone in his voice gone.

“Don’t worry, I like flying ships, hopefully I won’t need a droid to fly me everywhere, I’ll take my leave, or Captain Yoongi is gonna throw a fit again,” you say before retreating to the door.

“See you tonight,” you hear Jungkook say before you parrot it back to him.

You thought it’d be awkward to have dinner with Jungkook, but it’s going better than you ever imagined. Right now, you’re talking about your day with Captain Yoongi.

“He was like, ‘Kid, I’m not used to teaching someone who I’m not allowed to get mad at, and the fact that I won’t be able to even if I want to, I don’t lash out at women, don’t want my mother to pop in my head and give me a scolding’, then he started cursing at how the force works,” you retell before he breaks into yet another fit of laughter.

“Why did he say that even? What did you do to the old man?” Jungkook asks before he continues cutting into his steak, patiently waiting for you to continue your story.

“I said if you keep sighing you should just let a droid teach me,” you say before Jungkook doubles over, his piece of sliced steak forgotten, and at that moment, you think Jungkook has a pretty smile.

Today, you’re having a bad day, you couldn’t sleep well last night, your insomnia is always worse at the tail end of your menstrual cycle, so you’re naturally feeling really moody today, the sleep deprivation and changing hormones are getting to you.

Unfortunately for you, today you’re starting a new form of training, and it’s said to be hard, Jungkook described this as a form of virtual projection, crazy how a pair of goggles could teleport the two of you to a realistic battle.

You groan when the words ‘defeat’ flash across your sight.

“You need to focus, if you can’t get through this stimulation, how can you survive out there?” Jungkook asks, he doesn’t sound mad, he just sounds…realistic, for a lack of better word.

“Spar me,” Jungkook says before he gets into position.

“We can just do this without the goggles,” you suggest, but get into position anyways, sighing as you do so, this is going to be a long day.

“The wooden sticks are all the way in the gym, come on, just a little bit longer,” Jungkook says, but he could see the way your shoulders drop.

“Start,” Jungkook says before he advances onto you, he knows you’d never make the first move, your fighting style is always more on the defense.

The small stick that’s supposed to imitate your lightsaber hums when it clashes with Jungkook’s in the game, It’s like your body awakens, your brain going into fight mode when you dodge Jungkook’s second attack, planning on striking your leg after he identified that he can’t continue advancing with the first move, and you use the force to propel yourself backwards, your master never likes it when you do that, says it’s a sign of cowardice, but you’re not like the others, you strive for survival, which is why you didn’t think twice before you used the force to throw a rock at Jungkook, which he quickly sliced apart with his lightsaber, a look of bewilderment on his face.

“I had no idea you could do that in here, must be why we need to wear these gloves and weird socks on our legs,” Jungkook says before you see the mischief in his eyes, and that’s when you see it, his hands grasping the air in a similar movement to yours before you see a wrecked ship being hurled towards you.

You did a quick backflip, using the force to lift you in the air higher, landing back on the ground on your two feet.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Jungkook says before he advances onto you again, you deflect his attacks, the red of the imitation weapon glows dangerously close to your body, you would’ve been able to feel the heat of it if the two of you were using real lightsabers.

“Come on, this can’t be the best you can give me,” Jungkook taunts before he reels back and does a quick turn, catching you off guard, and immediately you panic, taking one hand off the stick to summon the force to push him back, sending Jungkook backwards, skidding on one knee to balance himself, before you feel yourself naturally wielding the lightsaber towards Jungkook, and right before you would’ve stabbed him, not that he’d get hurt in the simulation, you stopped, recalling that this is merely training, and that you’re not in actual danger, that Jungkook wouldn’t hurt you.

“You knocked the wind out of me, I had my guard down, but that was good,” Jungkook says as he gets up from his kneeled position.

“Sorry, I lost myself just now,” you said, your hand fidgeting with the stick.

“Don’t worry about it, being immersed in a fight is a good thing,” Jungkook says before he takes the goggles off, “let’s stop here for today, get some rest, you look like you need it,” Jungkook says before he disappears from your view, and you do the same, the virtual warzone disappearing right in front of your eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t sleep all that well last night, I’ll be better tomorrow,” you say as you pack up the equipment back to where it was.

“Don’t apologise, all of us have bad days, and if it’s too much, you could always let me know, get sufficient rest, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jungkook says with a comforting smile before he leaves, probably rushing off to a meeting with the council or something.

The first rumble of the spaceship had you jerking awake from the comfort of your bed, bounding out of bed with unsteady footsteps, you hold onto the side of your cabinet to look out your window, and you catch sight of x-wings and their lasers hitting the ship, immediately you start to sway at your feet.

You get dressed as quick as possible before running down to the control centre where you know Jungkook will probably be at by now.

No one questions when you step into the room, and you’ve never seen Jungkook this serious ever since the day you first met him, brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, the situation must not be looking too ideal, but still he senses you when you’re near him, turning away from the panels to look at you briefly.

“Not hurt?” he asks, Captain Yoongi casts a curious glance at his boss, but he remains silent.

“No, the protective shields on my side held up,” you answer, it’s nothing, standard procedure to check if the ship is alright, why did Yoongi find it weird?

Jungkook nods before he turns back to Yoongi, taking note of the situation and how their fighters are doing.

“It’s not ideal, there’s quite a large amount of those fuckers, half of our lasers are down, and the shields are at 40%,” Yoongi informs.

“Tell them to prepare my ship, I’ll handle them myself,” Jungkook says before he turns, preparing to descend down to the flight deck, his cape bellowing at his quick movement, you never liked capes, but you guess it’s tradition for the supreme leaders on the dark side.

“Wait! Alone?” you ask, a sliver of worry blooming in your chest, Jungkook always seemed invincible in your eyes when you only knew him through all the rumours, disregarding him as a person, that he might die, but now that you know him personally, he doesn’t seem as invincible anymore when he's no longer a myth in your head.

“Is that an issue?” Jungkook asks, confusion clear as day on his face, but his tone authoritative, you don’t dare to question him, it’s not your place to do so, especially not in front of everyone, Jungkook lets you get away with a lot of things, but this is probably not one of them.

“No, not an issue,” you say before letting go of his arm, and when he walked out, you could immediately see the tension in the people’s shoulders drop.

“He’s gonna be fine, kid, he’s got a reputation after all, he earned that through all the blood on his hands,” Yoongi reminds you before he gets back to his job, typical of your other mentor, he’s never the type to communicate more than what’s enough.

You stand idle as you watch the chaos unfold, Jungkook’s ship easily distinguishable by the additional purple streaks he had them installed when he didn’t like how his ship isn’t all that different from the others.

It swerves and dodges the x-wings’ lasers, zooming past the slower ones that got distracted by the other tie-fighters with a blast from his blasters attached to his ship, the red lasers dashing past, making contact with the jets before it blows up.

Every time he flies too fast and close to the exploding ships, you fear his ship is the one getting blown up.

The tension in your own shoulders drops slightly when you could see that the empire is winning with the dwindling numbers of ships.

“Fuck,” Yoongi curses, but before you could ask why, you see it, a large rebel mothership emerges from a lightspeed portal, surrounded by more x-wings.

“We need more people out there! Deploy the remaining teams!” Yoongi shouts into the intercom system.

“How are the stakes looking now, Cap?”you ask as you watch, then you feel it, the tremor of the bond, the one that you thought would never be established between you and Jungkook, the ‘force’ bond that establishes between a master and a padawan, you can feel how stress he is, his anger sizzling through the air that only you can feel in this room.

“Not very good, it’s going to need a lot of our firepower to take out the mothership,” Yoongi tells you before he barks more orders at the people around him, directing them on how to take down the mothership with the bigger blasters attached to the ship.

Suddenly, a staff let out a gasp of alarm.

“Captain, one of main blasters are jammed, we were supposed to use it to blow out the mothership, at least to deter it before we decide to hyperspace jump if needed,” the man said, but he immediately clams up when he sees how dark Yoongi’s face had gotten significantly darker.

“And there’s no way to fix it?” Yoongi asks, his fists balled at his sides.

“The droid that is supposed to fix that section of the ship got damaged by a stray laser from the battle going on nearby,” the woman next to the man explains, you can sense the overwhelming amount of fear emitting from the two of them, the rest of the staff’s emotions peaking as well.

“I can defend myself out there, tell me how to fix it,” you ask the man, the poor guy not knowing how to respond at first, expecting the pandawan of Lord Jungkook to be just as brutal as the man himself, but before the man could answer to your demands, Yoongi speaks out immediately.

“No, if anything happens to you, Jungkook would have someone’s head,” Yoongi explains, arms crossed against his chest, his eyes stern.

“Well, if we die, he would have no heads to behead so…” you remind Yoongi, rocking on your heels, you know he’d budge, Yoongi is a man of logic, and he always says he isn’t paid enough to be this stressed out about this job.

“Fine, don’t you dare die,” Yoongi warns you before he delves right into the logistics of what went wrong and how to fix it.

“I’m serious kid, don’t you dare fucking die, kid,” Yoongi warns one last time as he helps you with the oxygen mask and oxygen tank.

“Make sure you don’t damage the hose from your tank, there’s a spare tank under hatches where the ship is marked red if you run out, a red flash would keep appearing if there’s a leak or if the oxygen levels start getting low,” Yoongi reminds you one last time.

“I know I know, Cap, you’ve told me so many times I’ve lost count on how many times you repeated this,” you joke as you try to cope with your nerves.

“Okay, I’ll be watching you from here, don’t get out of sight,” was the last thing Yoongi said before you stepped into the escape hatch area before the doors opened and the sight of the on-going battle greets you without any barriers, goosebumps rise on your skin when you take the first step into zero gravity.

Immediately your feet were jerked to stick to the surface of the ship, the magnetic shoes work at least, you think to yourself.

Following Yoongi’s directions, you quickly located the main blaster that was stuck.

However, before you could remove the debris that had the blaster stuck underneath its hatch, you caught the attention of a x-wing that had just took down a few tie fighters, and immediately it fires at your direction, the shield is still up, but you’re not part of the ship, you’d get strike down instantly, and so you did what your fight or flight response told you to do, and that was to roll away before your hand shoots out to jerk the ship away, but sadly, due to its weight, the ship barely moved, it was onto you again once you were back on your two feet.

The x-wing was coming onto you quick, diving down to where you stood, and you let the force guide you, doing a flip to get out of its way before your hand quickly retrieves your lightsaber that was strapped to your space suit to strike the wing of the x-wing, a huge chunk of the wing was chopped off and the ship goes skidding behind you before it comes crashing against the exterior of the control room, the ship blows up but the mothership is unscathed due to the shield barrier surrounding the ship.

A tremor goes through your body when you see Jungkook’s personal ship in your peripheral vision, you can feel the worry in the bond the both of you share, you don’t dwell on his reaction, quickly getting on your feet to fix the blaster as soon as possible, finally getting it unstuck.

Jungkook’s ship makes its way near you again, and you think he’s going to give you a quick ride back to the docking area, but before he could do so, you see a few ships tailing his, coming a little too close to comfort to where both you and Jungkook are situated, an ambush, a flurry of red and white chasing the lone black ship, the rebellion are really eyeing every opportunity to have Jungkook dead.

It was instinctual, you were raised to not have any fear, to die for the cause, even though you weren’t all that dedicated to any of the sides you have been on, but Jungkook is Jungkook, he’s not a side, and you don’t understand why you’re risking your life for him, but it just felt right when you harness all the force in your being to constrain the three ships together, the one in the middle exploding from the pressure while the other two begin to catch fire from the damage, the damage must’ve caught Jungkook’s attention, because before you felt all the energy fade from your body, you see his ship turn its back to you, flashes of red lasers are the last thing you see before your body slumps, your vision blacking out to fade into darkness.

Soft, to the point of being close to what you imagine sleeping on a cloud would feel like, is this how death feels like? So all the jedi afterlife world was complete bullshit? Not surprised, you always thought those jedis that claim to see their dead masters were all in such dire and desperate situations that they started having hallucinations.

But then you feel it, the receptors at the tips of your fingers, the smooth sheets under your palm, you’re alive, then you feel yourself jolting out of bed when your eyes pry themselves open in surprise, a gasp leaving your chest as you sit up.

“Miss is awake! I’ll fetch Lord Jungkook immediately!” you hear the voice of a droid say before the sound of the doors opening and closing reaches your ears.

Another droid dashes to tend to you, checking your pulse, your vision, and brain activity.

“Everything seems to be normal, miss, do you need me to fetch you anything?” the droid asks.

“You’re dismissed, I need to get ready for Jungkook’s arrival,” you say before you decide to power off the droid yourself, you're never too comfortable with droids anyways.

You quickly dash to your bathroom to wash up, change and comb your bird nest of hair, god forbid you let anyone see you like this.

When you come out of your bathroom, you spot Jungkook standing next to the droid, the droid rattling off your stats like it’s listing out a list of resources the ship needs when it lands for a refill.

“You shouldn’t have turned him off, what if you fainted in the bathroom?” Jungkook asks, turning to you after the droid was done with the updates.

“I was overexerted from using all that force, all that sleep got me feeling more refreshed than ever, he said I slept for two days straight,” you nod at the droid’s direction.

“Force exertion is the equivalent to getting a serious injury,” Jungkook says as his eyes scan your face for any signs of pain or discomfort, his hand reaches up to feel your forehead, if those doe eyes won’t be the death of you, that hand will be, you thought to yourself mindlessly before the rational part of your brain scolds you and tells those voices to shut up.

When Jungkook finally deemed you alright, the gentleness in his eyes disappeared.

“What were you thinking out there?! You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Jungkook bursts out, the cold gaze he usually reserves for others now directed to you, but instead of cowering in fear in silence like others, you’re taken aback by that tone directed at you, never once has he ever reprimanded you this way, not even when you were first taken in as hostage, but you’re never the type to back down when a man raises his voice at you.

“Well, maybe I wanted to die! I was ready to die back when I first got here anyways!”

Jungkook is rarely ever speechless, this is the first time you’ve seen him flabbergasted, and in the worst way possible, you've never felt his wrath on you, the effect making your hairs stand on its ends.

“Did you still want to die? All this time? Even after being under my care?” Jungkook asks, his tone deadly, even if you were deaf, you’d be able to feel it through the force.

“I..” but before you could explain yourself out of the situation, or try to help him understand what you're uncertain you're even feeling yourself, you see the familiar bright sliver of his dagger, the one that you know he keeps by his side as a last means of defense, a weapon that is perfectly deadly in the hands of someone with the force.

You quickly dodge out of the way, summoning the force beneath your feet to elevate yourself, the dagger touching the tip of your feet, you're fast on your feet, on defense, but Jungkook has always been quick on offence, it's why the two of you work so well, the sound of a twang sounds behind you when the dagger etches into the wall, just the tip, before it lands on the metal floor.

“Stop defending yourself if you just want to die!” Jungkook bellows before he comes storming towards you, the blazing red glow of his lightsaber emitting off his sharp features.

At this moment, you don't want to die, you don't want to die seeing Jungkook angry, you don't want to die knowing that you had disappointed him, and so you draw your own lightsaber, quickly deflecting his own, the lasers deflecting sparks off each other, your lightsabers a contrast with one another, Jungkook’s being a shade of dark red, and yours being a faint shade of rogue, his eyes widen at the familiar colours, hesitation flickers across his face, and that's when you make your move, summoning force to your forefront to send Jungkook thumbling a few steps backwards while you catch your breath.

“I don't know how I want to live my life yet! I haven’t phased out from the life I led before you picked me up,” you say, your eyes downcast, you don’t know how to face him, in your defence, that’s the harsh truth, you were always wishing to leave, to get out, but you didn’t think that day would actually come until it did, and now you’re lost, all your life, you’ve been drifting aimlessly, a tree without roots, you don’t know your origins, you don’t know your future, and coming to terms to that in front of a person who probably has everything figured out is…shameful.

You finally look up from where your eyes were previously trained on the rough grip you had on the staff of your lightsaber, even though you could feel Jungkook’s hostility decreasing through the feel of the force, you know he isn’t entirely not angry, and your suspicions are confirmed when you’re greeted by the sight of his locked jaw and cold eyes, his lips still set in a thin line, but his lightsaber is switched off.

“I offered you the position of succeeding me, but you won’t take it, I was paving you a path, a way to live your life, you just have to say yes,” Jungkook looks at you, now with more warmth in his eyes, hopeful, but you can’t, you can’t promise him and yourself something that you’re so uncertain of.

“I’m not sure I have the capabilities to lead as well as you, and I’m not sure if that’s the life I want to live, I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you might as well be honest, it’s manipulative to lead him on just for the sake of the benefits of living here, under the protection of the new order and Jungkook, and if he wishes to end your life right here, then he has every right to.

“You disappoint me,” Jungkook mutters before he turns his back to leave the room, leaving you wondering if maybe you should’ve just said yes to appease him, or that maybe death is a better fate than disappointing the person who you actually sort of look up to.

Later in the day, you don’t see Jungkook, everyone’s busy with packing to get ready to return to base, a first for you, you didn’t even know where you would’ve been staying until a droid came over to tell you that it would be responsible for escorting you to your new quarters.

When you finally arrive, you’re greeted by the sight of a healthy green planet, you were quick to get off, with your limited belongings, the droid enthusiastically escorting you to your new quarters, which turns out to be a large unit within the base.

“Everything’s been modelled to suit the aesthetic you had picked prior, miss, the fridge is stocked, heating is available, running water is available, heated water as well, I was also advised to stock up your wardrobe, everything is according to the measurements you sent, and whatever daily necessities you may need, miss, when things run out, just type in what you need in the tablet available by your bedside, miss,” the droid explains with wide gestures and quick steps to show where everything is.

“Thank you, you’re dismissed, I won’t be needing anything else,” you say with a curt bow, to which the droid returns.

“Before I leave, here’s your keycard, miss, but you can use the facial recognition system which can be turned off in the settings panel as well, no one can come into your room without authorisation, so don’t worry about anyone barging into your room, miss, that is all, miss, have a good rest, miss,” the droid says before finally stepping out the door.

So this is where you’ll be staying when you’re not travelling, you look around with a huff, it is nice, but you’ve never lived in such a spacious place before, being on the run meant you had to sleep in tight places with someone in your personal space, maybe you’re a greedy bitch for wanting the luxuries that come with being Jungkook’s pandawan without accepting the duties that come with it, should you leave? Will he kill you if you do? With all the secrets you know, he probably will…this is a deadend for you.

A few days have passed since arriving to base and Jungkook and you have this cold war going on, you’ve only seen him in passing, he hasn’t scheduled a lesson ever since the confrontation, and maybe it’s a good thing, maybe he needs more time to think of what to do with you, in all honesty, you wouldn’t mind just being one of his fighters, at least you’ll get to stay.

There was a sudden fanfare today when you were out for lunch, you got to know what when the waitress sees you looking confused in your spot, watching the soldiers lining up outside a ship.

“You must be new here, that’s Lord and Lady Kim, they’re close friends with Lord Jungkook, dear, they’re the only few that know of this location and can freely travel in and out of base,” she explains before scurrying away when someone flags for her attention. You quickly finish up your food and return to the main building, it’s best to return in case you’re needed for whatever.

Celebrations were still ongoing when you got back, hopping off your hover car and quickly thanking the droid who works in the valet service.

You ask around to find out that the main celebrations are taking place in the grandhall, where major events are held and important announcements are made, which means the waitress was telling the truth about Lord and Lady Kim being very closely affiliated with Jungkook.

You’ve never seen the grandhall being decorated to the nines, so when the droids open the doors for you, you’re surprised by the grandeur decorations spanning the entire room, even the serving droids look freshly waxed, handing out food and champagne to everyone on shiny platters.

You spot Captain Yoongi a few feet away, nursing a glass of whiskey by himself.

“Hey, do you know them personally?” you ask when Yoongi sees you.

“Kind of yeah, but I’m not one of those kiss-assers,” Yoongi jokes with a jerk of his head to where the crowd is gathered, probably where Lord and Lady Kim are.

“You should say hi at least, be a good friend, cap,” you joke.

“The fact that I’m here is already a reach, I could be taking a nap right now and waited until the dinner to see them,” he retrots, finishing his glass before flagging down a droid for another glass, the two of you watching the people silently, if there’s anything the two of you can definitely get by, it’s people watching, or for Yoongi, people judging.

A few minutes later, the crowd finally parts, and everyone can see why, Jungkook has arrived and has gone straight for the couple, when the crowd parts, so does who you think is Lord Kim and Lady Kim, both of them tall in stature with kind smiles on their faces, you avert your gaze to the side and that's when you see him, Jungkook, saying something to Lord Kim, but when he feels your gaze on him, he diverts his attention to your direction, immediately his eyes harden at the sight of you.

“That's my cue to leave, cap,” you say before quickly downing the rest of your glass.

“Are you seriously going to avoid him forever?” Captain Yoongi asks with a scoff, “you and I both know he's never going to come around, so don't be the stubborn one, kid, he's way more stubborn,” he says, and you know what he means by that, Jungkook has an ego that comes with his reputation after all.

“I just need to figure some things out and so does he, I'm gonna go now, don't miss me too much,” you say before quickly sneaking away.

“Mind telling me who's the young lady that's got you so riled up yet you have no plans of killing her?” Namjoon asks his long time friend, Jungkook is like a younger brother to him at this point if he was being honest, so of course he's intrigued by Jungkook acting this way, a first in the many years he's known him since they were children.

“She's my pandawan, but she rejected my offer of having her lead the new order after me,” Jungkook mutters with disappointment before downing his glass, welcoming the burn of the alcohol down his throat.

“She's not that young though, do you plan on retiring early?” Namjoon asks with a shock, his wife, Sejin is intrigued as well, Jungkook isn't the type to hand over power so quickly based on their understanding of their dear friend.

“She's still many years younger than me, I could still take on another pandawan, or she could, was my initial plan, no one else had piqued my interest like she did, everyone else lacks in talent,” Jungkook explains.

“So you're mad she doesn't want to be your successor? Then you should just dismiss her as pandawan, you can always find a new one” Namjoon suggests with a dismissive wave of his hand, but Sejin could tell something was bothering him and that her husband's dismissive suggestion isn't something Jungkook wants to hear.

“Maybe you can keep her as your right hand woman, not everyone wants to be a leader, Jungkook,” she suggests, and from the way she could see you standing there in silence instead of socialising with the rest of the crowd, she could just tell you have no desire to lead an entire nation.

“Quite out of character for you to not kill her once she told you that,” Namjoon notes, which earns a swat on the arm by his wife, she doesn't want someone dying out of her husband's silly suggestion of all things, they did leave behind this life to lead a peaceful one, and that means as less bloodshed as possible, even indirectly.

“I wanted to, but I couldn't,” Jungkook says without further elaboration as he notes that you have already left the hall.

Namjoon and his wife share a look between themselves when they see the little bits of forlorn on his face that aren't obvious to others.

After a long day of training with R9F7 and practice flying a ship with Captain Yoongi, you felt tired and in dire need of a nap after a shower. When you had finally woken up, you thought of heading down the dining hall for dinner, but a small bouquet of flowers by your doorstep had you stopped in your tracks.

Miffed by the sight of it, you quickly look around to see who left it there, but noting that it's dinnertime now, chances of the person delivering the flowers having left long ago are quite high, so you bring it back in to read the note.

Written in what you presume is the florist’s handwriting, due to how neat it is, is an address, time, and a table reservation number for the restaurant listed.

You quickly change as you debate on whether you should go, whoever sent it is probably quite high in ranking to know which unit you stay, and is probably not someone that is against the order, since your living quarters have high security levels, so who sent those flowers?

Fuck it, you think to yourself, you're perfectly capable of protecting yourself, you reassure yourself as you pull on a dress and a brand new coat, you've never dressed up before, it was merely a fibble dream back then, to think you'd be able to live a stable life of riches and be adorned in the finest silks if you're willing to fight for a greater cause, you scoff at the thought of your old perceptions on life, no one would be able to afford such a life through justice, at least not anywhere in the near future, not as long as Jungkook exists.

Before you left your unit, you quickly strap your lightsaber on your thigh, just in case, you thought to yourself.

You summon R9F7 to drive your hover car, just in case you want to drink during or after the meal, depending on if the person you're meeting is someone you deem you should be weary of.

When you get to your destination, you quickly pat down your hair, maybe you should consider getting a hood installed on your hover car, you think to yourself as you tell R9F7 that he's free to walk around if he wants after he dropped you off.

Heading to the restaurant, you immediately walked up to the employee situated at the front of the property, noting that this place must be expensive if there's service right outside the restaurant and you also see two security droids in place.

“Reservations only, miss,” the waiter informs you without looking up from his tablet, seemingly uninterested in servicing you.

You state the reservation number for him and that's when he finally looks up.

“Please, right this way, miss,” he says as he gestures the droids to open the door, the gust of warm air providing a sense of comfort, until you see how fancy it is on the inside, velvet carpeting with intricate designs, customers dressed fancily, crystal chandeliers hanging from high ceilings, and cutlery that look more like fine jewellery in your eyes, but that's when you notice the stares and the whispers amongst the diners, they must've realised you're not a regular.

“That's the Dark Lord's pandawan, I saw her at the welcome ceremony of the Kims’ that day,” you catch someone saying, loud enough for someone with the force to hear.

You seriously hope no one recognises you in your seating area, you think to yourself before you finally come to a stop at a more secluded area, and the person waiting for you was none other than Lady Kim herself.

“It's nice to finally meet you, I'm not sure if you saw me that day during the welcoming ceremony, I'm Sejin, I've been friends with Jungkook for a long time, but my husband, Namjoon, is much closer to him. I thought I'd take this opportunity to get to know you, now that we're back for a visit, my husband is busy with catching up with his old friends, so I thought I'd take this chance to get to know you first, we're both women after all,” Lady Kim says as she stands up to shake your hand, gesturing you to take the seat in front of her.

“It's nice to meet you, Lady Kim, but I'm not sure why you would want to meet me of all people,” you say honestly, you would've understood if you met under formal circumstances, like being introduced by Jungkook as his pandawan, not in such a private situation, not even on base grounds.

“I wanted to meet you, you're Jungkook’s pandawan after all, being Jungkook’s close friend, I think it's normal to want to meet his pandawan,” she replies as she flags down a waiter to pour you a glass of wine identical to hers.

Gears turn in your head as you try to read the woman in front of you, after being under Jungkook, you've learned that people usually have the worst intentions and assumptions towards you, so you've grown to be cautious with strangers.

“I just thought we would've waited until our formal introduction with Lord Jungkook, but I have no qualms about meeting you for this dinner, Lady Kim,” you explained, not wanting to come off as hostile or reluctant to meet her, you don't want to offend her, especially given the fact that she seems almost like family to Jungkook.

“Please, just call me Sejin, Lady Kim makes me sound so old, and thank you so much for meeting me, sorry for not informing earlier, I was worried you wouldn't be willing to meet me if you had known,” she explains, her expression apologetic, but you understand where she's coming from, you don't like people knowing you're Jungkook’s pandawan either, they always have a bad perception of you.

“I wouldn't have minded, Lady Kim,” you quickly reply, still not forgoing the honorific, but she quickly amends you, chastising you in a lighthearted manner to not call her by her title.

“How old are you, darling? You look so young,” she remarks as the first two dishes are being laid on the table, you sure hope she didn't order too much, or anything too exotic, you weren't familiar with what people on the dark side eat until just a few months ago, there's still many things you've never tried.

“I'm 21,” you say before thanking Sejin for putting food on your table, even the ham looks fancier than usual in this restaurant.

“Oh my, you must've been so young when you were taken in by your first master,” Sejin exclaims, chopsticks hanging idly between her fingers when she registers what you said.

“I was trained under a jedi master before Jungkook,” you answer honestly, but albeit, hesitant, your loyalty lies with Jungkook, but you know the whispers of some of his men, how you're unworthy because you used to be under the rebellion.

“Darling, you don't have to be ashamed about your past, in fact, I was trained in a rebellion academy too,” Sejin says, which has your eyes going as wide as saucers.

“It wasn't the main rebellion base, just a small academy started by an old master who takes in orphaned kids who were blessed by the force but too old to be enrolled in the official academy, I was to be killed the day the dark forces found the base, but Namjoon pleaded his master, also Jungkook’s master at the time, to give me a chance to live and prove myself worthy, so that's how I met Namjoon and Jungkook, Jungkook was still so young at the time, time flew by so fast after we left, in a blink of an eye, he now has now his own pandawan,” Sejin says with a sigh, nostalgia heavy in her tone, but she seems happy about the way her life turned out too.

“Why did you and Namjoon leave?” you couldn't help but ask, sitting up straighter, engrossed in Sejin’s life story.

“I wanted a life beyond all this, I felt like growing up, from the moment I was abandoned at war, picked up by my old master and met Namjoon, I felt like all I did was training for something that I didn't feel passion for, Namjoon felt like he was doing it out of obligation as well, especially being the oldest one, he was expected to lead the New Order, but Jungkook took over instead when our old master died, he was always the one that's more passionate about leading the New Order, so Namjoon and I decided to leave, start a life for ourselves, to see the universe. So I understand if you have no desire to follow Jungkook’s footsteps, I've been at such a crossroad too, but I think he didn't receive the news all that well because maybe a part of him still feels like he was abandoned by Namjoon and I,” Sejin explained.

“I'm sorry you had to go through so much at such a young age,” you know how hard it is, having experienced it first hand, but you know she must've had it even harder, Jungkook treats you as an equal despite being his pandawan, but you're sure their old master, being someone of more traditional upbringing, couldn't have treated them as well.

“It's fine, it's been so long, I've moved on quite alright, but I just want to let you know, I'm here to offer you a chance to leave this all behind too, Namjoon and I never had any children, nor do we plan to, since we always move around in fear of being caught or killed, we talked and decided that if you ever want to live with us, we welcome you with open arms,” Sejin offers with sincerity in her eyes, you can see the moisture in them, and you know where she's coming from, she sees herself in your life story too.

“Thank you so much for giving me the chance to leave with you, but I can't leave Jungkook, my loyalties lie with him, he saved my life and I'll always be grateful to him, I can't imagine myself not being under his servitude,” you decline politely, if it wasn't Jungkook you would've taken up on her offer, but you don't have any aspirations other than protecting the one who saved you from your miserable life, even if he demands to have you killed, you wouldn't have any qualms.

“Jungkook saved my life, if he wants me to hand over my life for not following his footsteps, then that's a price I'm willing to pay,” you elaborate further before sighing, you've sealed your fate since the day you accepted his offer, and you always keep your word.

“Darling, he's not going to kill you for not taking over his place, if he wanted to kill you he would've done so long ago, I know I might be prying, but I feel like there's another reason for wanting to stay by his side, do you perhaps hold affection towards Jungkook?” Sejin asks with a knowing smile on her face, not a sliver of judgement, but you feel like you've been gobsmacked by the force in its entirety.

“I wouldn't even dare dream of such a thing, goodness,” you say with a weak chuckle, quickly distracting yourself with your drink, taking a quick sip, you would've downed the whole thing, but that would make you look ridiculous.

Thankfully the food has finally arrived, temporarily diverting both of your attention.

“I won't question you further, there are some things you need figuring out yourself,” she says before she plates some food onto your plate with a knowing smile on her face.

*I ran out of image limit so this is my new page break, sorry guys*

“I saw your pandawan leaving base all dressed up when I was on my way here,” Namjoon brings up midway through dinner at Jungkook’s chambers.

The man across from him immediately stops chewing on his steak, the force around them strumming in suspense, even without the force, they would've felt the hostility in the air even if they can't see the hardened expression on Jungkook’s face.

“Maybe it's just a friend,” Namjoon says offhandedly, and then Jungkook stiffens up, instantly he lets go of his hold on the force, but Namjoon is used to this sort of suffocation, he had to deal with teenage Jungkook after all.

“It doesn't matter,” Jungkook brushes off, resumes cutting his steak, but with a new sense of vigour, the knife scratching the surface of the plate.

“You can't lie to me, Jungkook, need I remind you we grew up together?” Namjoon teases, but he's still concerned, he's never seen his friend invested in something other than his work, “You need to tell her how you feel,” Namjoon advises, though he knows what Jungkook is thinking when he sees the clench of his jaw, and just as Namjoon predicted, Jungkook refutes immediately.

“That's my pandawan we’re talking about,” Jungkook deadpans, staring down at his long time friend.

“I know, just because I'm in my forties, doesn't mean I'm hard of hearing, and just because you're in your 30s, doesn't mean you're an old man, she's only in her 20s, that's not very far apart,” Namjoon explains, because he knows what Jungkook’s mindset is right now, he thinks he's too old for you.

“Don't be ridiculous, she's in her early twenties, she deserves someone her own age, not me,” Jungkook protests with an agitated sigh before he downs the rest of his whisky, the droid immediately refilling his glass, as dutiful as ever, but maybe out of fear too.

“Why are you so against the idea of being with your pandawan? She's an adult, what are you scared of? Definitely not what other people might say. Are you scared you might take advantage of her?” Namjoon retorts to elicit a reaction out of Jungkook, and it's instant.

“I would cut off my own arm before I would even think of doing anything without her permission,” Jungkook says with the force omitting from Jungkook’s body in waves, the droid at the side quietly scoots away from his previous spot closer to Jungkook.

“Then why are you so against the idea of being romantically involved with her?” Namjoon questions with a gentle tone, he's gotten his point across, he doesn't need to press further, Jungkook is in denial, but nowhere near dumb, he just wanted to know why his dear friend is torturing himself by denying his own feelings, but if he won't tell him now, he'll just have to try his best to pry later.

*page break*

The forest stands intimidating as the winds howl and the trees waver under its force, the sound of leaves rustling a familiar tune for Jungkook and Namjoon.

“Can't believe we didn't do this the last time you came back,” Jungkook says as he watches the scenery with a fond nostalgia.

“Didn't know you'd still fancy hunting this much, after so many years of being the Dark Lord,” Namjoon muses with a shake of his head, but he'd ought to know better, Jungkook always had a sense of childlike adventure and a hunger for a challenge, it's why he enjoys what he does.

“Hunting creatures sometimes trains my wits more than hunting people, people are getting more stupid by the day,” Jungkook says before he orders a trooper to open the weapon crate, “Weapon of choice? I'll let you pick since you're my hyung,” Jungkook says before he walks aside to let Namjoon take a look.

Namjoon digs around, uninterested, until he finds a rod shaped weapon, with a click of a button, it unfolds itself into a spear.

“Always have an eye for the unconventional ones,” Jungkook mutters but laments, picking up another spear from the crate.

“That's what makes things fun, Jungkook, gotta keep you on your toes, that's what I'm here for on this boring planet,” Namjoon says before he takes off into the forest, the familiar scent of the trees greeting him like a warm hug.

The sun is nowhere near setting, but in this forest, the rays are blocked by the thick trees overhead. However, Jungkook isn't worried about the darkness, he's trained to see through the force instead of his vision, the force to users as skilled as Jungkook, is like touching the fabric of existence, able to map out every obstacle around him like a physical map.

He hasn't gone hunting ever since the last time he did it with Namjoon, but the forest doesn't feel the same since then, it's too empty. Jungkook hasn't felt a creature other than some bugs for miles, which is an odd occurrence for a forest that he knows is abundant with wildlife.

Something feels terribly off, and he hates that feeling, especially when it's happening on home base.

Instead of trekking for animals, he's now feeling the force for Namjoons's whereabouts, but he must've walked further away from him to have a better chance of higher numbers, he isn't on Jungkook’s radar anymore, and communication doesn’t work in this forest, they did agree to meet back out in an hour's time, but his gut tells him to not dwell.

Suddenly, he feels footsteps, lots of them, then he registers it, a stampede, and it's coming his way.

Creatures he's all too familiar with, even the more ferocious ones, are chasing the tail of some small creatures, but not as predators, because Jungkook can sense the fear in all the creatures in the stampede.

Jungkook immediately summons the force to jump onto a high branch, perched on a higher ground to observe what's happening below, he still can't see nor feel the creature that caused this stampede, but he knows it must be ragesome for it to trigger a stampede in the forest, and he has a sinking feeling that it isn't native.

Then he feels it, a thrumming in the force, a disturbance, but a familiar strum has Jungkook on alert, Namjoon is close, but he's miffed by the fact that both the creature and Namjoons's presence are ascending his way simultaneously.

By now Jungkook doesn't need to use the force to keep track of the creature, the whole forest is shaking from the weight of its heavy footfalls.

Lo and behold, there he sees it, a green 10 feet tall reptile on all fours, huffing and shaking its head, clung onto his neck is no other than Namjoon himself, trying his hardest to hold on for his life while he tries to stab the creature with the spear that acts more like a sharp stick against this monster.

Jungkook has no idea where this creature came from or why his hyung is on its back, but he's damn sure he isn't going to let Namjoon die in the jaws of this monster.

“Joon! Get off its back!” Jungkook shouts from the top of his lungs, getting the attention of his hyung, thankfully, he heard him or felt his intentions through the force, and so he leaps off its back to the side, rolling to safety.

Jungkook descends from his spot from the branch, summoning the force to cease the creature in its tracks by exuding pressure in front of it, acting as a temporary barrier.

The creature’s weight has Jungkook skidding back a few steps, shaking its head, confused as to why there's something in its way despite not seeing any physical obstacle, but then its eyes zero in on Jungkook’s figure a few feet away, and with a mighty roar that showcases its sharp teeth, it decides to pounce on Jungkook, but Jungkook once again stops it with his force before he wields his lightsaber purely with the force, calling it from where he laid it out for safekeeping right outside the forest, thankfully they've moved closer to the forest clearing, Jungkook was planning on ending it once and for all by plunging the weapon into its throat, however, the creature had unfortunately caught sight of Jungkook’s lightsaber, and with a swish of its tail, albeit with a wail of pain from the burn of the saber, the lightsaber is smashed to pieces, distracted by his prized weapon destroyed right in front of his eyes, Jungkook was was nearly bitten by the creature if Namjoon hadn't used the force to pull him out of the way.

“Fuck, did you bring your lightsaber?” Jungkook asks.

“No, I didn't expect we'd come across anything that needed one,” Namjoon says before he advances onto the monster once again, with the spear in hand, he leaps onto the monster’s neck once more, angering it.

“Try to strike its eyes out!” Namjoon suggests, and with a sigh, Jungkook follows suit, trying his best to balance with the aid of the force, Jungkook tries to get the spear into its throat, but the reptile's strong scales wouldn't budge, protecting itself like an armour.

“The spear isn't strong enough to penetrate its scales, if we blind it, we might be able to find its weak spot on its underbelly,” Namjoon informs Jungkook, to which the latter nods, trying his best to weaken its sight, but things prove to be tough since the monster is trying its hardest to shake them off like they're merely pesky flies.

Jungkook hopes they'll get out of this alive.

*page break*

An insistent throbbing in the back of your head rouses you from your nap, immediately you can tell something’s wrong, and that something being Jungkook, you're not sure how it works, but having a force bond with someone is like an invisible string, and the throbbing at the back of your head is similar to a thread being yanked on, beckoning you for help, even if the person in danger didn't specifically asked for you.

You quickly get dressed and grab your hoverboard, you shouldn't be riding it in hallways, but the route from your unit to Jungkook’s unit is quite near, some staff did give you the side eye, but you needed to be quick.

“Droid, where's Lord Jungkook?” you ask the droid standing guard as you skid to a stop in front of Jungkook’s unit.

“Lord Jungkook has went hunting with Lord Kim in the forest, miss, would you like to schedule an appointment to meet with Lord Jungkook after he comes back?” the droid asks, but you have taken off in a haste once you knew of his location.

After zooming through the hallways with many apologies given, you finally reach the entrance of the forest, and gathered around an empty clearing are five storm troopers.

“Lord Jungkook is in danger, I need all of you to follow me into the forest,” you ordered, all of them scrambled to their feet, but the leader, the one with a red graphic print on their shoulder pad remains seated.

“With all due respect, miss, but we were ordered to await Lord Jungkook’s arrival back from the forest, and given Lord Jungkook’s capabilities, I doubt he is in any danger,” they dismissed.

“Are you questioning my authority and capability of wielding the power of the force?!” you question with a flick of your wrist, the trooper is being tossed high up into the air, screaming on top of their lungs before they begin apologising and pleading for your forgiveness.

“Miss, look, there's birds flying out in flocks from that direction,” another trooper informs you, so you quickly let the trooper down and hop on your hoverboard.

“I sent all of you my tracking so you can follow my lead, call backup as well,” you say before taking off into the direction of where the commotion was at.

You've been in the forest many times to train alone, but you've never delved into the thick of it like this before, where the trees are more dense from one another.

You try feeling your way through the forest as well as following Jungkook’s energy force like a beacon, but one thing for sure, there's definitely something that doesn't belong in the forest, you can sense its immense size sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the other creatures.

When you reach a clearing, you see the monster in its entirety, its eyes blazing, mad that Jungkook and Lord Kim are trying their best to deter it in its path by blocking its vision, though, you can tell they're trying their best to injure it.

“Jungkook get out of the way!” you shout from the top of your lungs as you summon your knives, the knives flying through the air with the power of your force, Jungkook dodges right before the knives are impaled into its left eye, roaring at the pain, and also distracted, you used this chance to take it down, your lightsaber alight before you took off, summoning the force to give you a boost to your jump, stabbing the lightsaber into its neck before you let the force of gravity do its thing, slicing its neck all the way down.

You jump back when the blood of the creature starts to spray out in jets, but in doing so, you miss the snap of its jaw, you feel a familiar hand reach out to grab you before the creature could have your life one last time, you were pushed away, a loud curse reaches your ear, you look back to see Jungkook throwing a spear with all his might into the monsters jaw, the creature whimpers at the unexpected pain, before it finally succumbs to its injuries, falling to the side lifelessly.

With a sigh of relief, you quickly turn to Jungkook, but your blood runs cold at the sight, his back has obvious scratch marks from the creature's teeth and his clothes are drenched in his blood.

“Jungkook!” you call with a wretched sob before the man before you sways, you quickly catch him before he falls, his whole weight crashing onto you.

Then you hear the troopers, most of them bought weapons but thankfully one of them thought of bringing a stretcher, better late than never at least, you thought with a sigh.

Lord Kim calls out your name before offering you help in manoeuvring Jungkook onto the stretcher.

“Jungkook’s going to be fine, he's seen worse, let's hurry back to get you checked out as well,” Lord Kim says as he checks you for any obvious injuries.

“Thank you, Lord Kim,” you say with a bow, but he quickly dismisses you and tells you to call him by his name as well, just like his wife.

You can’t help but worry when you watch the many different machines scanning him and tending to his wounds, you can’t help the pangs of aches in your heart when the sight of his old battle scars meets your eyes.

“You’ve been overlooking the droids for a long time now, darling, the next procedure’s going to be more invasive, how about we let the droids work in privacy?” Sejin says, and immediately the droids start undressing Jungkook more, so you quickly agree and make a turn to leave Jungkook’s room in a haste.

“You need to get some rest yourself, darling, you can visit him after the droids are done,” Sejin says, and you agree, you do feel tired after all that’s happened.

*page break*

A groan leaves Jungkook when he rouses, a slight ache settling into his body, nothing out of the ordinary, but what he didn’t expect was the weight that he feels on the area of his wrist, he cracks opens his eyes and he sees you, asleep, bent over with your arms folded as a makeshift pillow, then everything comes rushing over him, the beast, you swooping in to help him and Namjoon fight it off, and him getting hurt because of saving you.

Jungkook sighs to himself at the reminder of that memory, he can’t avoid you any longer, it’s not professional nor it is healthy for the two of you moving forward by putting a strain on your relationship this way, but he can’t help but be pissed that you almost got hurt again, but he knows he and Namjoon would’ve struggled to take down that monster by themselves.

Jungkook sees you stir just as the force bond tingles at the back of his neck.

You jolt awake at the sight of Jungkook awake and staring at you with those intense eyes of his, and so you did the thing you rarely ever do, bolting.

“I’m gonna go inform Lord and Lady Kim,” you mutter in one breath and leave before Jungkook could say anything to you.

Jungkook sighs before he hears a droid coming to him to rattle off his vitals, he begrudgingly leaves the comfort of his bed to wash up, and when he comes out, Namjoon and Sejin are seated on his living room sofa.

“Look who finally decided to wake up,” Namjoon teases before he engulfs his friend into a bone crushing hug, a hand patting his back a little too hard, but Jungkook’s used to it by now.

“How long was I out?” Jungkook asks when his friend finally pulls away.

“About two days, silly girl didn’t leave your side ever since you laid on that bed,” Namjoon informs, and that’s when Jungkook notices it.

His home is usually very neat, he’s what most people call a neat freak, but now there’s things scattered around, a practice stick laying on the ground, a book of his on the coffee table with a bookmark shoved in haphazardly, and some of his photo frames misplaced, and scarily enough, he doesn’t feel an ounce of irritation.

“Poor girl didn’t leave your bedside, worried to death,” Sejin pipes up with a glint in her eyes, she knows the topic about the two of you can’t be avoided at this point.

“You should’ve told her I was going to be fine and to get back to her own life,” Jungkook says with a sigh, thinking about how you were cooped up here for almost 3 days.

“You think we didn’t try telling her that? She didn’t listen, as stubborn as you are, unsurprisingly, but that’s what you saw in her isn’t it?” Namjoon teases and Jungkook turns away to his shelf, seemingly arranging his things, but he’s just looking at what you browsed according to the movement of his things.

“That’s what I saw in her as my pandawan,” Jungkook clarifies but he hears Sejin’s snicker.

Jungkook lifts up a snowglobe of some sort from his collection of random things from his endeavours before he abruptly slams it down when he hears both of his friends now blatantly laughing at him.

“Are the two of you here to inquire about my health or gossip about me in front of my face?” Jungkook questions, turning back to face his friends with a scorned expression, he’s not used to people blatantly going against him this way.

“Oh come on, Jungkook, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to get my lick back for all the years you teased me about Sejin,” Namjoon jokes.

Jungkook curses at his teenage self for not shutting up, with a roll of his eyes, he plops down on the couch with a huff, and suddenly, Jungkook looks so much like his younger self to the couple.

“Cut him some slack, love, I wasn’t your pandawan, so things do seem more complicated, but these are just surface things, Jungkook ah, if you have no bad intentions then what’s stopping you? If anything happens, you’ll regret having not been loved or have loved someone, trust me, Namjoon and I, we’ve been in tight situations before we left all this behind, and in that moment, I had no regrets because I had a fulfilled life loving and being loved by Namjoon, but I understand why you’re hesitant, since you’re all good and up on your feet, we’ll leave you to continue resting up, we’ll come by tomorrow again,” Sejin says, tugging a very confused Namjoon on his feet.

“Let the poor boy figure things out, he’s just woken up and now he’s clouded by all these emotions,” he hears Sejin say under her breath to Namjoon, but Jungkook doesn’t hear what Namjoon says, nor does he bother to correct Sejin that he’s no longer the boy that she used to watch over with Namjoon but in fact a grown man in his 30s.

After his friends’ departure, Jungkook sits in silence in his own unit, ‘are you not coming back to check up on him?’, he wonders with a displeased sigh.

When it gets late to the point where he knows you’re most probably asleep, he gives up waiting on you. Jungkook’s eyes land on a bracelet he’s never seen before when he heads to bed, sitting idly on his nightstand, ‘did his droids find this when they were cleaning his room during his brief coma?’ he wonders to himself, but he doesn’t remember any of his past conquests wearing anything of this sort, but to be fair, he doesn’t remember much about them, if anything arises his suspicions, he’ll just check the cameras in his home, he brushes the bracelet off, he’ll just drop it off lost and found tomorrow, he decides before letting sleep consume him once more.

But not long after he fell asleep, at least according to the clock on his bedside, he hears rustling coming from his living room, he immediately jerks awake at the realisation, summoning the force, the spare lightsaber he owns flying into his outstretched arm before he creeps into his own living room.

His eyes lock in on a familiar figure and now that he’s more awake, he can sense it’s you just by the bond.

“What are you doing here at this hour?” Jungkook questions while he lowers his weapon, letting his guard back down.

You turn around with a surprise gasp from your hunched position over his couch, seemingly searching for something before he caught you like a deer in headlights.

“I realised a bracelet of mine is missing, it was gifted to me by Lady Kim and I’m having breakfast with her tomorrow, so I had to come back to look for it or it’d seem rude to show up without it,” you explain in one frantic breath, standing a little too straight for comfort now.

“You could’ve come to get it earlier,” Jungkook deadpans, arms folded over his chest with a sigh.

“Well. I didn’t want to disturb you, and Lord and Lady Kim were over, so I didn’t want to intrude,” you say, but both of you know that’s not the main reason.

“The droids picked up your bracelet, it’s in my room,” Jungkook says, turning back to the direction of his bedroom, silently beckoning you to follow him, which you do.

Then you see the familiar glint of the beads on his nightstand that you had familiarised yourself with the past few days.

Jungkook takes a seat on his bed before he retrieves the bracelet from his nightstand, beckoning you over with a flick of his wrist, and so you move to stand before him, gently, he grasps your non-dominant hand in his before he slides the bracelet back onto your wrist.

“Take a seat, I’m not here to discipline you,” Jungkook says before patting the spot on the bed next to him.

“We need to have a talk about how you’re constantly putting yourself in danger for me, but in short, stop doing that, don’t risk your life for me,” Jungkook says curtly, keeping things straight to the point.

“Why are you acting like I’m the one who got hurt?” you retorted, but before Jungkook could remind you of what happened, you beat him to it, you have a fast mouth on you, that Jungkook acknowledges.

“I get it, you saved me, but if I wasn’t there, that monster might’ve hurt you or Lord Kim like really badly, just because you’re my master, doesn’t mean you’re invincible,” you reasoned, and Jungkook equally loves and hates this part of you, the way you stand up to him with little to no fear, he doesn’t have many equals in this position other than Namjoon and Sejin, but unfortunately for you, this is what keeps Jungkook on his toes and also the reason his temper fires up.

“I’m not invincible, but you’re not either!” Jungkook retrots, his voice booming in his spacious unit, his eyes ablaze, chest heaving. Jungkook rarely ever raises his voice, if he’s mad at someone for a failed task, he’d merely dispose of them, which is why he’s bad at controlling his emotions around you, he’s never needed to keep himself in check and this doesn’t help the fact that you’re a hot headed person yourself too.

“You don’t get it do you? I don’t want you to risk your life for me!” Jungkook’s so agitated to the point where he’s stood up now, a hand running through his hair.

“We’re all risking our lives for this cause anyway, what’s the difference between me and you?! Why are you ‘allowed’ to get hurt for this cause but I’m not?! Wh-

“Because I can’t stand to see you hurt!”

“What’s the difference between me and all the other millions of people under you?!”

Hearing your outburst, Jungkook walks away with a shake of his head, going to that planet and insisting on wiping out your old master and the rest of his pandawans turned his life over like a snowglobe, and he doesn’t know if it’s for the better when the snowstorm in his head is still raging.

“Don’t make me say it,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, defeated almost, something you’d never thought you’d ever describe Jungkook as.

“Cherishing someone isn’t a sign of weakness, Jungkook,” you lament with a sigh, if this was your bed you would’ve crashed onto it, reasoning with Jungkook is such a mental turmoil.

“It’s wrong if it goes beyond the limit,” Jungkook says, throwing his hands up, very much exasperated, and the sight of you seemingly so calm and collected just pisses him off more.

“What limit, Jungkook?! You’re backing yourself into this non-existent wall for no goddamn reason-

“Because I have feelings for you!” Jungkook bellows, his facial muscles strained to the point where you think he might actually self-combust, then in a flash, you’re being thrown backwards onto Jungkook’s bed, the wind knocked out of you, distantly you can hear Jungkook’s furniture and knick knacks in his room falling over in quick thumps and numerous shatters of glass.

“Fuck,” you hear Jungkook curse before he comes rushing over to you, his worried face coming into view.

“I’m fine, not hurt,” you say before Jungkook helps you sit up from his bed.

“I had no idea having feelings for me is such an agonising experience to the point where you’d have such an explosive reaction,” you mutter bitterly as you sit up from Jungkook’s bed.

“It’s agonising because it’s not right, not because of you,” Jungkook says in a disheartened tone, looking away from you, head hanging low in the glow of his lamp in the corner.

“You’re big bad Dark Lord and you’re scared about what people say behind your back?!” you question with full offence, head whipped to the direction of the pathetic man you’d looked up to for so long, he tenses up at your accusation, and he turns to face you in an instant, his venomous eyes piercing into yours.

“If someone even dares to speak ill of me or you, they’ll regret it in their last dying breath,” Jungkook warns with a slight growl, and to your dismay, it sends a chill down your spine.

“Then what’s your damn issue? Don’t tell me you suddenly have a moral high ground, you kill and torture, but you’re not willing to touch your pandawan?!” you shout in his face before you could register to filter that damn primal part of yourself.

“It’s because I’m so much older you, god damnit!” Jungkook retorts, hands flailing, you’ve never seen him so out of his damn mind, and it kind of feeds into your ego that you can make the most powerful man in the universe crumble this way.

“So what? I’m an adult, now and back when we met,” you say a little calmly for Jungkook’s liking, like he’s pathetic for having all these valid concerns.

“I could be your father at this age of mine,” Jungkook mutters dejectedly.

“Maybe boys my age are of no interest to me, have you thought about that?” you fire back, and Jungkook looks at you like you just said the most scandalised thing he’s ever said, you hate it when he babies you like a child, you have made no reckless decision ever since you came here, your most reckless being hurling a giant rock at Jungkook, not that it matters, it got his attention, and now you have him at your feet.

Suddenly, you feel yourself taken over by a crazy amount of confidence, something must’ve possessed you for you to have the courage to walk over to him, and grasp his face in your hands, the way your dainty fingers envelope his sharp features is a sight you won’t be able to forget, but it’s the way his doe eyes get lost in yours is what made your breath hitch, so you swallow the lump in your throat, the power exchange is borderline addictive, yes, Jungkook is slightly more vulnerable at this moment than you’ve ever seen him, but admitting your feelings to him, your heart on your sleeve for his taking in itself is a form of submission, especially for someone as headstrong as you, and you prove your assumptions true when suddenly his eyes sharpen, piercing into your soul like daggers.

“If you want this, I need to know that you’re mine and I’m yours alone,” he says, his voice tense, as if just the thought of you being with someone else sets off his temper.

“I’m yours for the taking,” you say before you finally seal your lips with his, along with your fate.

*page break*

Celebrations are in full swing after Jungkook led everyone to a victorious conquer of yet another galaxy, but that didn’t come easily, some troopers had sacrificed their lives, many injured, you didn’t get out without a few gashes and many bruises too, but what hurt the most were your ears after being lectured by Jungkook for getting hurt, which is ironic, because he had himself battered up too, you didn’t even bat an eye, just patching him up diligently every single time.

Though now, you hold no grudge against him for that, not when he’s having his big day now, which is why you’re dolled up for the night, well, it’s nothing considered too fancy as compared of the many flamboyant outfits you’ve seen the noblewomen adorn day in and out, but it is however, considered dressing up for you, in a glittery dress that shows off your silhouette.

Eyes trace your figure when you make your way through the hall where the celebratory dinner is held, all the way until Jungkook notices you, then the eyes on you, which were quickly diverted when they catch the scowl on his face, but it was quickly wiped off his face when he greets you.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook whispers to you when you take your seat next to him, eyes discreetly looking over at what he can see of your dress from this angle.

“You don’t look too bad yourself too,” you say instantly, holding your tongue on how you love it when he tight fitted formal attire like these, unfortunately, still black, but it’s almost impossible to convince the man to wear any other colour, but purple does make an appearance once in a while, he has almost ten purple shirts in his closet, and yes, you went through his closet just to see if everything was black to confirm your suspicions.

“Thank you, darling,” Jungkook drawls with one more greedy glance at your appearance before he goes back to people watching, observing who would most likely walk up to him next to talk now that you’re in his presence, everyone wants to know more about the apple of Jungkook’s eye, no one had expected Jungkook, with the temper he has going on, would ever be patient enough to teach someone, especially someone from enemy lines.

“Lord Jungkook, congratulations on the success of your last excursion, achieving great things alongside your pandawan I can see,” Lord Bautinite says, a didynon who’s older than the both of you combined says, but instead of addressing Jungkook properly, the old man is staring at you with his big bug eyes that Jungkook’s holding back the urge to poke out.

“Lord Jungkook did most of the heavy lifting, Lord Bautitine, but thank you for your confidence in my capabilities, I’m merely doing my best to support Lord Jungkook on the field,” you say, always humble, Jungkook lost count on the many times you watched his back for him and patched him up, he wouldn’t have successfully conquered that galaxy if you weren’t there.

“What a humble pandawan you got yourself, Jungkook, have you thought about who to arrange her marriage to?” Lord Bautitine asks with a hopeful glint in his eye that has your temper flaring up, but no one else would feel but Jungkook, due to the force bond between you and Jungkook that has gotten even stronger because your relationship with Jungkook exceeds the depth of a normal master-pandawan relationship, the two of you could feel every change and flicker of emotion no matter how brief and how far the two of you are physically. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to lash out though, you never do, you’re the opposite of Jungkook, Jungkook lets his anger be known by everyone, but you could be feeling even angrier than Jungkook about a situation but your face would give nothing away.

“My pandawan is a grown adult who’s capable of making her own decisions, I have no desire to arrange a marriage for her, she’s free to choose who she wants to be with or to stay single,” Jungkook answers without a second of hesitation, he knows this question would come up sooner or later.

“I have no desire for marriage in the near future, Lord Bautitine, for now my passion lies in serving The New Order only,” you reply with a smile plastered on your face while your temper continues to flare up the force, Jungkook doesn’t know how you do it.

“It’d be a pity to lose such a useful worker to marriage so soon, though I’m sure she will still dedicate a lot her time in her work, I might not be very lenient on her partner if they ever get in the way of her and her work though,” Jungkook says, an indirect warning that underlies the meaning of fuck off.

“Why yes, I hope you find someone who respects your boundaries one day,” Lord Bautitine says to you before he quickly excuses himself to speak to someone else passing by.

“It’s insane how well you manage to compose your anger,” Jungkook says with an amused shake of his head, he was trying so hard not to kill him, but he knows Lord Bautitine has influence in the local economy here, it’d be messy to kill him off.

“I’m surprised you’re getting better at managing your anger too,” you have to give tens where tens are due.

“If he had laid a hand on you he would be dead by now,” Jungkook says casually before taking a swig of his drink, smiling over the rim of his glass when he sees you laugh and your anger fizzling out, but soon, there’s more people to meet, only excusing yourself when the next course rolls out, you don’t mind socialising with Jungkook, but you would never compromise for food and Jungkook respects that.

Deeper into the night, you excuse yourself and leaving Jungkook to his own devices, Jungkook knows your social battery has a limit and he has no desire to drag you around talking to dickheads anyways, it’s normal for you to retire earlier when there’s events like these, and if anyone dares to question Jungkook about your loyalties and hard work, Jungkook allows his displeasure to be known in the most brutal way possible.

*page break*

When Jungkook finally retires to his own quarters, he breathes a sigh of relief when he takes in the comfort of his abode that once felt empty to him, most days you slept over, you practically live here, and so Jungkook’s home now has bright pops of colours, cute cushions from the market, your cup on the kitchen island, and the many jewellery you have lying around here and there that Jungkook bought many of, he reminds himself that this is what he’s doing for, staying in power means he has the means to keep you safe, Jungkook reminds himself as he quietly peels away his clothes to hop in the shower for a quick rinse before joining you in bed, a cute bundle between his sheets.

However, to his surprise, the cute bundle between his sheets is now laying on his bed, your smooth legs posed enticingly, kicking the air lightly while your bum takes the spotlight, the giant red bow sitting prettily at the dip of your back catching Jungkook’s attention instantly.

“What do we have here? Thought you were fast asleep,” Jungkook questions as he rounds his bed with quick strides, tossing his towel aside when he deems his hair dry enough.

“I was, but I heard you in the shower,” you’ve always been a light sleeper from years of being on the run, Jungkook sighs when he remembers that fact, he’s so glad he had that old man die a painful death for what he put you through.

“Aren’t you tired? You didn’t have to do all this for me, having the pleasure to hold you close is enough of a blessing,” Jungkook says as he slides into bed next to you, his nose immediately goes to the juncture of your neck, inhaling your scent mixed with his shower gel, tickling you in the process, his chest blooming at the sound of your sweet giggle.

“Missed you, you’ve been so busy, you deserve a reward too, for all your hard work in the order,” you say before you lead his face to yours, capturing his lips with yours, your hand tangling into his hair, your breath hitching when you feel Jungkook manoeuvre you atop of his lap, he wants you as close as possible after being apart for so long, it’s been only 4 hours max, but Jungkook is a fiend for your presence.

When Jungkook could tell you were getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, he pulled away, his eyes immediately trained on the way your eyes had glossed out, lost in the kiss the two of you shared.

“Gorgeous,” Jungkook praises under his breath as he brushes your hair back from your face, taking the sight of you in, he's the luckiest man in this universe, and it's not because of the empire he has, but because of you.

“You mentioned a reward just now, darling,” Jungkook reminds you, with his thumb holding your chin in place, he knows that such a simple gesture has your panties slicking up, always a menace in riling you up.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you emphasise with a roll of your hips, Jungkook’s length twitching at the action, impatient to be inside of you, “but first, how about dessert?” you ask before lightly pushing Jungkook to lay on his back, an amused huff leaving his lips.

“It's like you read my mind, sweetheart,” Jungkook says as he bunches up your nightgown, surprised but very much happy to find that you had forgone panties tonight, “don't hold back, I want your entire weight on my face,” Jungkook demands, knowing that you have the tendency to hover over his face instead of giving him the full meal.

You sigh at your lover’s insistence, so instead of replying him, you take your seat, successfully shutting up and satisfying him, obvious by the groan he emits once he gets the first taste of you, groaning into your core, the vibrations and his tongue have you gasping for air, quickly holding onto the headboard for your dear life.

Jungkook has always been straight to the point in all aspects of his life, which is why he immediately dives his tongue deep inside, the action messes your balance while you curse from the sudden shocks of pleasure, Jungkook, being the observant lover he is, immediately notices and stables you with a palm on one of your cheeks, taking the chance to grab a handful of you, making you squeak at the pinch of his fingers.

Jungkook smiles against your flesh, and to level up a notch, he then frees his other hand from where it was wrapped around your calf to where your bundle of nerves reside, drawing quick circles, timing them perfectly with the thrust of his tongue that has you gasping his name breathlessly between moans.

Jungkook could sense you were getting closer when you started grinding down to meet his tongue, he could sense the beating of your heart quickening, and lets you do as you please, eyes wide open as he takes in the beautiful, but slightly obstructed sight of you chasing your own pleasure with his face, you being rightfully in your place, Jungkook might as well be the king of this universe, but you are the queen of his world, and a queen deserves the rightful place of a throne, and what better throne than Jungkook himself?

When you finally reach your high, Jungkook rolls your hips for you, helping you ride out your orgasm while stabling you atop of him as you convulse, your knuckles whiten as you let yourself be overtaken by the pleasure coursing through your body, completely undone by Jungkook’s expert hand and mouth, you can feel that he's drinking you in, trying his best to collect your sweet nectar with his tongue, you had to remove yourself on your shaky legs in order for him to give up, chest heaving as your gather your bearings, laying on the bed next to Jungkook.

But soon the man has other plans than letting you rest, Jungkook having an almost wicked smile on his face.

“I can't feel my legs yet, how about I let you use my mouth as an interlude,” you joke, which gets a laugh out of Jungkook.

“It's fine, I can do the heavy lifting first,” Jungkook dismisses before he wraps your legs around his waist, moving you about like a doll before he bends down to place a short and sweet kiss on your lips, the gesture full of love in the midst of your throngs of passion, it never fails to bring a smile on your face when he does this.

Jungkook then leans back to focus on the task on hand, grasping himself, his cock almost painfully hard from enduring through hearing your pleasure, but Jungkook enjoys hearing the way you react to him without any distractions, he's a patient man when it comes to you, well to a certain degree, he thinks to himself as he pumps himself a few times before he finally positions himself at your slit, probing with his cockhead, teasing you, which earns him a few whines and a light thump of your leg on his back before he finally relents, sliding into your heat slowly, his brows furrowed as he focuses on the feeling of being engulfed by your warmth.

You tighten your legs around Jungkook’s waist when you feel the familiar addictive feeling of being filled up, nails digging into Jungkook’s arm.

“Doing so well for me, baby, always so wet for me,” you hear Jungkook say, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until he bottoms out, he hears you panting by his ear as he waits for you to adjust, and in the meantime he takes off your nightgown, letting his eyes wander, basking in on all your naked glory.

“We've been doing this for so many times, and yet you're still so entranced,” you comment as you watch the way his huge eyes trace every little bit of your skin.

“I'd never be bored of the sight of you, especially when you're on top of me,” Jungkook says as his hands join in on the mix, tracing every curve on your body, making you shiver from the featherlight touches.

“Thought I'd look best like this, under your mercy,” you joke, getting a chuckle out of Jungkook.

“You'll see why in a bit,” Jungkook comments before he gives an experimental thrust, your gasp of pleasure a telltale sign that you're ready for more.

Jungkook starts off with a mild pace before he hears you begging for him to go faster, your legs tightening around him as you fully immerse yourself in the pleasure you're receiving, your body tensing up with the overwhelming amount of pleasure running through your veins, especially when Jungkook lowered his head to capture one of your bosoms into his lips, sucking diligently as hips continue their unforgiving pace, never missing his target of the spot that has your head spinning.

“Close,” you gasp out when you feel the coil in your belly threatening to snap.

Jungkook ceases all movements before pulling out of you gently, he then manoeuvres you on top of him, taking your place on the bed.

“You wanted to know why I prefer the sight of you on top, this is why,” Jungkook says before tilting your head up to look at the mirror he had installed on his ceiling, and true to his words, the sight is a bewitching one, the way your body has a healthy glowy sheen from the exertion, and the way Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes trained on your reflection, the most powerful man in the universe, and his pleasure is at your mercy, and at that moment, you feel like you could strike even the most powerful entity down, Luke Skywalker be damned if he wasn't dead.

“Do you see what I see now? My queen, rightfully on her throne,” Jungkook says after he tips your head back down to stare into your eyes, he needs to get the idea in your head, it should be a crime that you had no idea of how powerful and mesmerising you look on top of him.

Instead of replying him with words, you smash your lips against his, pouring all your love out through it, you rarely initiate such an intense kiss, but soon you hand the reins over to Jungkook, even though you love having power over him, submitting to him is what you enjoy most in your love trysts.

A moan slips from your lips to his when he slips back inside you with a quick adjustment of his hand, the familiar fullness more than welcomed, and Jungkook then immediately sets a rigorous pace, thrusting in an upwards motion while his eyes look into yours, attention unfazed despite his hips working hard to tip the scales of your impending high.

Alas, at the end of the day, Jungkook is only a man, which is why he elicits a giggle out of you when you catch his eyes do a quick sweep of the bouncing motions of your breasts.

“You won't be laughing soon, my love,” Jungkook taunts before he lands a quick spank on one of your cheeks, the sweet tinge of pain nearly sending you over the edge, and seeing the damn smirk on Jungkook’s face, you know damn well he felt you clenching on him.

Jungkook then slows down his pace, switching to slower deeper thrusts that have you clawing his back with long thin marks that he would wear proudly for the days to come.

“I want you to cum, darling,” Jungkook breathes into your ear, sending a shudder running down your back, his voice quiet but still commanding, but what comes next is a surprise, something that merely agreed upon but Jungkook hadn't tested the waters until now.

Jungkook wraps a hand round your neck, not squeezing like you expected him to, but then you feel it, the way your throat constricts by the force lightly, cutting part of your airflow.

“Look up, sweetheart,” Jungkook demands, and you heed, staring at your own lust driven body, the light sheen of sweat making you shimmer under the artificial lights.

“Look at you, right where you belong, on your throne, is my cock treating you well, my Queen?” Jungkook taunts before he stops all airflow for a single second, and that's when you lose it, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, a curse stuck at the back of your throat because of Jungkook, but when he ceases control of your breathing, your mind blanks out from the all encompassing pleasure, your legs shake as you feel yourself cumming as if you can't stop, soiling the sheets as Jungkook whispers sweet nothings into your ear about how good you did, a hand slipped down to your clit to rub slow circles onto it to curb you to clench around him tighter before he spills into you with a groan. Jungkook then lays you down on the clean side of the bed, before he retrieves the box of tissues on his nightstand to clean you and himself up quickly, he doesn't want to make a mess on the way to the bathroom, he wants the droid to change the sheets then get out of his hair as soon as possible.

“Don't pull out yet,” you demand with a weakened grab of Jungkook’s arm to get his attention, just in case he can't hear you from how soft you are, Jungkook has you spent tonight if you're being honest.

“Anything for you, my love,” you hear Jungkook say with a kiss to your temple before you feel yourself succumb to sleep.

When you wake up from your much needed slumber, you let yourself some time to just feel and appreciate the fact that you're being held in the arms of the love of your life before extracting yourself from said arms, which is quite the feat when Jungkook is built with all muscles and almost zero fat percentage.

When you finally succeed in escaping his embrace, you sigh lovingly at how peaceful Jungkook looks in his sleep, none of that constant frown that he sports when he's awake and stressed about whatever task he needs to attend to, you think he even resembles a rabbit when he sleeps, all pouty lips and his nose twitching now and then, he's gonna throw a fit if he hears your thoughts now, he hates it when you call him cute, are you still going to do it? Absolutely, but for now, you're gonna let him rest up more.

You're still fresh from the bath Jungkook must've taken with you when you were asleep, so you quickly wash up and pad into the kitchen to get a warm cup of water for the both of you, settling Jungkook’s cup down on his side of the nightstand before you walk to the large floor to ceiling window of his bedroom that overlooks the beautiful garden within the base compound.

“You're gonna fall sick parading around naked in my home like this,” you hear Jungkook say before you turn your head to catch him just as bare as you before he retrieves a blanket from your reading nook armchair to drape around both of you, but you with the added layer of bulging muscles.

“This is considered warm for me, I've been through worse conditions, don't worry,” you say before Jungkook steals your cup out of your hands for a quick sip before putting it on the nearby bookshelf to wrap his arms around you once more.

“I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner,” Jungkook mutters as he snuggles his face into your neck, breathing you in, he loves it when you smell like his body wash.

“It's fine, I was just making a joke out of it, you know, no need to get all wound up over it for me,” you say as you reach back to brush through his hair gently.

“Still, I'm glad you're here, and that all those conditions didn't stop us from meeting. I love you so much,” Jungkook says while he wraps you round his arms even tighter than you thought possible, screw rabbit, he reminds you of one of those giant bone crushing serpents you dealt with in the past.

“I love you too, my love,” you say through staggered breath from how he's almost crushing you, but you let Jungkook enjoy this moment a little longer as you bask in his warmth embrace because all’s well that ends well to end up with Jungkook.

The End.

#jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts fanfiction

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thecheshireprincess · 4 days ago

Text

The Game Itself

Chapter V: Paint Swatches, A New Pal, and Your First Party

A Chishiya x childhood best friend reader (Niragi's sister!) AU Series

Content Warning: Flirting with someone you don't like (at all) to get something you want, use of alcohol, mentions of drugs, a small portion of time where Reader receives attention she might not want (dub con, but not explicitly sexual), canon-typical violence, killing, mentions of blood and injuries, mentions of vomiting, mentions/memories of an abusive father, curse words

Previous Chapter The Game Itself Masterlist

Newcomers arrive to The Beach in droves every single day, finally driving the once peaceful resort to become the raucous utopia Hatter had in mind from the beginning. Parties rage on, sweaty bodies bumping and grinding to the beat, alcohol and drugs of their choice surging through their veins. The new citizens of The Beach were quickly becoming a living embodiment of the cliche 'Seize the Day'. All of it felt strange to you, too much liveliness and exuberance in a world so forlorn. You were trying to keep an open mind; maybe these people really did need the hope and promise that Hatter was offering them in the form of your new home. They certainly seemed to hang onto every word that dribbled out of his cocky mouth.

It has been three days since your Six of Spades game; the injuries you and Aguni had sustained mercifully granted you some time off from playing. In the back of your mind, you knew that if it had not been for Aguni, you would have been thrown right back into the snake pit the next night fighting for the next card in Hatter's collection. Not to mention your life.

You'd spent the first two days mostly sleeping and eating, Chishiya an obvious constant at your side. In the small amount of time that you were actually awake, you helped Chishiya carve out a hiding place in the wall behind an ugly abstract painting in the bathroom. One place where the cameras were not. It was the perfect location to stow your pistols and whatever other crazy gadgets Chishiya came up with. The man was always tinkering with random pieces of junk he found lying around. This thought made you roll your eyes affectionately, but you were truly happy for him that he had a hobby of his own.

Yesterday you had felt much stronger, so you spent some time leisurely wandering the resort looking for inspiration for your renovation project while Chishiya performed a few Executive errands. You had just been lucky not to run into your brother or his newest lacky while meandering alone - something he had explicitly warned against. Annoyingly.

Today looked like it would be more of the same, Chishiya being called away to perform Executive duties early in the morning. You were being excused from them for now to give your body and mind time to heal, but at this point you kind of wished you weren't. In your friend's absence, you were truly alone. You wouldn't typically mind being alone for a little while. It was kind of enjoyable even, to have the house to yourself and dance around to blaring music and stuff your face with chips. But being left alone with your thoughts was decidedly not a very good thing for you right now. You still felt that strange darkness bubbling and brewing, threatening to take you over completely. You had hoped that some space from playing the games would make that disappear back into the deep abyss of your soul, but you were wrong.

Rage simmered under your skin that Niragi was avoiding you; that he was a completely different person since coming to this world. You hadn't even seen him in days. Did he even care about how you were doing? The same man who had for years completely lost his mind over every little cut or fever that plagued you hadn't visited you once even after witnessing you dripping blood all over the conference room floor. And he'd called you an idiot. If you didn't know any better, you'd say his behavior was not unlike that of someone else you knew, but honestly you didn't think you could handle thinking like that of Niragi. He couldn't ever become him.

Compounding your anger was your best friend; the one person who rarely, if ever, made you upset. Why had Chishiya given you the pistol from your first game? What did he mean by "be ready to use it"? What did he understand that you didn't? Neither you nor Chishiya had brought up whatever had obviously happened between the two men during their first game together, but there was definitely tension that hadn't been there before.

This made your heart clench tightly in your chest; Chishiya would never do anything to defy or hurt Niragi, you knew that. Your brother had basically raised both of you, Chishiya's father being an absent father at best. So it must have been Niragi. What could he have said or done to change the dynamic of their relationship so quickly? The longer you sat in your bed with these thoughts swirling around you, the more you felt you were about to be swallowed whole by them.

You desperately needed a fun distraction.

You weren't particularly interested in any of The Beach's main happenings, the majority of the citizens spending their days getting drunk, high, or having sex constantly. You were, however, intent on getting started on your renovation project. Who knew how long you would really have here to be able to re-decorate? You wanted to be able to enjoy the fruits of your labor for as long as possible. You'd be back in a game arena tomorrow night, you never knew if it could be your last.

While you were resting, you'd decided on some paint colors for the main lobby and some of the hallways, knowing that even just brightening up the walls would make a big difference in the vibes around here. In order to get the things you needed, you'd have to get permission to leave the resort premises. That unfortunately meant talking to Hatter, and probably being a little bit persuasive with him.

Allowing the doors the carved mahogany wardrobe to swing open, you select a flirty blush colored bikini covered with fluffy faux rose details and a sheer, loose fitting white cover up. You smile - this little number should be enough to get you what you want. You quickly run a brush haphazardly through your hair, trying to ignore the burning pain of your still partially unhealed shoulder. You wish you'd allowed Chishiya to do your hair for you earlier before he'd left, but you had still been half asleep and too cranky. You quickly twist your hair up into cute space buns, securing them with clear elastics.

Taking a look once more in the mirror, you check out your stitches finally starting to heal. You were surprised that in only three days, the traumatized skin had healed enough to keep the bandages off the majority of the time. No one seemed to have an answer for how time was flowing in this "country", but you knew it wasn't the same as you've always known.

Satisfied with your appearance, you work your way down the brightly lit hall to the executive suite. Hatter should still be in his room at this time, hopefully not yet completely drunk or high. Nodding politely but authoritatively to the two shirtless and proudly muscular men standing guard outside the door, you enter. Perks of being an Executive, you suppose? It had taken Hatter only a day or two to find those large guys, convince them that he was right about everything, and get them to pledge to "live AND die for him if necessary". You had wanted to roll your eyes at this soliloquy, but you can't really blame the man for being charismatic; plus it had worked.

The aforementioned man is sitting on a plush green and gold couch with a lady perched on either side of him. Though it's definitely only mid-morning at this point, a drink sloshes in his always wildly gesticulating hand, ice clinking noisily against the sides of the glass. You feel awkward sitting across from the group as the girls continue their exploration of the man sitting between them as though you weren't there at all. Though you tried to remain composed, you knew your face was shining a crimson color in secondhand embarrassment.

"Our Princess graces us with her presence! And what can I do for you, pretty little thing?" He preens, flirting with you unabashedly. A somewhat unspoken rule of being at The Beach is that once you're here, you only leave to play games or if you're assigned an errand. Death to the traitors. To get what you want, you'll have to flirt back, no matter how gross it makes you feel. That's what you're here in your skimpiest bikini for. Just add it to the list of games you're playing. You still enjoy playing games, right?

You put your prettiest puppy dog eyes on, batting your eyelashes at Hatter as he flirts. Pushing down the urge to vomit, knowing you shouldn't be doing this. "It's good to see you again," you gush, "The Beach has been kind to you, you look amazing. Happy." The man throws his head back in a boisterous laugh, saying your actual name for the first time ever.

"You are a little minx, aren't you?" He asks, eyes shining like the glass of liquor in his hand. "It's no wonder that your brother is so protective," he hums. You simply smile and bat your eyelashes again in innocence, left hand twisting the earring in your ear absentmindedly. "I suppose you probably aren't here just to flirt with me, but if you are, I can make them go away," he winks, speaking about the ladies on either side of him as if they weren't literally right there.

You giggle, "Since you so graciously offered me so much time to rest and recover, I was able to come up with a lot of really great ideas for The Beach renovation. I was hoping to have your permission to go out and look for some things that I need to get started."

Hatter clicks his tongue, sitting up to look at you over the top of his aviators, "I see. Well this is my kingdom and I do want it to be "good vibes" as you've mentioned before. Plus, in this utopia, the idea is for everyone to have something that brings them hope. I'm getting the sense that for you, this project might just be that source." You blink in surprise at this revelation, you really hadn't thought of it that way. He was sort of right. You didn't think someone like Hatter would be able to read you like that. Interesting.

The man breaks you from you reverie, "Niragi has made it clear that lives will be ruined if anything happens to you, so I'll have to request an escort. I can't just let you wander the city alone."

You stifle the urge to roll your eyes at your brother's nonsense - quietly dictating your every move in this place but treating you as though you'd caught the plague. Irritation prickles under your skin - you can't seem to figure out the rules to Niragi's game. His bullshit is just a game too, right? It was the only explanation. You're all still good people, as long as you're just playing a game.

Niragi is still a good person.

While you were lost again in your twisted and confusing thoughts about your brother, Hatter had slammed his drink on the messy coffee table separating the two of you and stood to his feet. He was walking away from you, towards the bathroom, leaving the two girls looking bewildered and incensed. Meeting adjourned, you guessed.

"Be ready to go in the lobby in thirty minutes!" he booms in his always way too loud voice, calling back over his shoulder.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Wind tousles your hair and gently kisses your skin as you cruise down the highway with Hatter himself. The fresh air felt amazing, refreshing your senses after being cooped up inside a dusty hotel for so many days. The breeze inspired you further, you'd have to find a way to make the resort feel more like a breath of fresh air than a grimy prison. Hatter had insisted on being the one to bring you to Shibuya in search of your items, and you certainly couldn't argue with the "King" of The Beach. Somehow, you didn't think Niragi would be terribly pleased by this fact, but at least you weren't causing trouble for him. He had told you not to make Hatter mad, not to necessarily avoid him completely. Chishiya on the other hand would probably be furious with your little escapade, flouncing around in a tiny bikini and using your attractiveness to get what you want from a dangerous man. Maybe he'd even be a little jealous? That particular thought lit your entire core on fire.

What those two don't know won't hurt them. Besides, they're keeping secrets from you too.

Time to focus. You knew you wanted to paint the lobby a seafoamy shade of blue-green to mirror the ocean and make the space more inviting. Since there was no actual ocean surrounding The Beach, you'd have to bring it to the resort yourself in your decorating choices. You'd love to get your hands on the filthy carpet too, excited that there was probably gorgeous wood flooring hiding underneath. For that magnitude of a project, you'd need a lot more manpower on your side. You briefly wonder if Hatter would allow you to recruit citizens for your project. Perhaps you'd have to look for another flirty bikini for that question.

Does it feel a little irrelevant to be hunting down paint and papasan chairs for a hotel while you're constantly in a state of fighting for your life? Of course it does. But you also can't deny that it's helping you feel a tiny bit lighter, to forget the problems you're having and your concerns about staying alive in general. Hatter had been right earlier, the idea of accomplishing this project did give you a rush of hope.

The two of you find a brightly colored paint store that has remained relatively untouched over the course of time that people have been here. Of course, because who would need paint in a world like this? Just someone silly like you, attempting to carry light into the darkness surrounding you. You scoff at yourself again, opening the door and hearing the cheerful chime that used to signal the arrival of a customer to the employees on duty.

You approach the wall of paint swatches, targeting the section right between blue and green. This task isn't as simple as it would have been if the lights were on, now having to use what little sunlight filtered into the shop to compare colors. You heard yourself sigh once more, whether in exasperation with the lack of light or with yourself for making Hatter do this with you, you don't know.

"It isn't stupid, you know," Hatter begins in his sing-song tone, following a few paces behind you as you work, "to want to feel something normal. To want to control something in a world filled with things you can't." You blink slowly, shocked by him for a second time this morning.

"How did you . . . ?" Looking at the man with widened eyes, holding the two samples you've narrowed it down to.

"I can see it in your eyes, you're conflicted. It's okay to want a distraction from it all - that's what The Beach is all about!" He states, plucking the card from your right hand to hold it in front of him, indicating that was the one he liked more. Your mouth drops open a tiny bit, surprised. Had your first impression of this man been entirely wrong?

"Thank you, Hatter," you whisper quietly, actually grateful to him for encouraging you that it was okay to want this. He smiles at you gently, an ACTUAL smile, not the fake charismatic one he usually uses. He speaks your name lowly, "In a setting like this, you can call me Takeru." You smile back, nodding, taking the paint sample he's chosen back.

You slip behind the dusty desk to where the paint is stored, searching for the color Hatter had chosen, but your mind suddenly felt very far away. Is it possible that the Hatter you thought you knew was just a persona? A way for Takeru to survive in this deadly place and maybe even protect his friend? It was not unlike the game you played every time you entered a game area. Not unlike the game you played to convince him to bring you shopping.

Maybe, just maybe . . . Takeru wasn't so bad after all.

After putting the cans of paint in the car, you continue down the street to the furniture store that you knew should have the exact pieces you had in mind for curating the perfect beachy hangout spot in the lobby. As you walk, you suddenly find a surge of bravery, "what was your life like before you came here?" The man grinned a lazy grin, lighting up his face in way that made him seem almost friendly instead of menacing. This was the true Takeru.

The man told you about how he ran a successful club called The Beach, the original namesake for his newest project, before settling in to take over his late father's hat shop. He laughed loudly, recounting all of his and Aguni's old stories. The two of them were thick as thieves. Brothers, even. Several of his stories make you laugh along with him, reminding you a lot of the two people you loved the most too.

Suddenly, a flash from the other night appears in your mind.

You carelessly flick the bloodied Six of Spades card to land in front of Hatter on the cheap wooden conference table. You felt irritation pulsing in your veins seeing his greedy grin as he stares at the card as though you hadn't just dragged Aguni dripping blood into the space.

Hatter had literally ignored his best friend and you that night, despite blood actively flowing from both of you. He was too far deep in his obsession with the cards in that moment, a crazed look in his eyes that you'd never forget. That man - completely different from the one standing in front of you, reminiscing about the good times he'd had with Aguni in the other world.

Your mind began to race, wondering if this place and the stress and the power were going to Hatter's head. If the game he had entered this place with the intention of playing had gone too far, and was driving him crazy. Could that same thing happen to Niragi, if his behavior was indeed just another game? Could it happen to you? Chishiya? You felt your body go clammy and you stopped laughing along. If Hatter noticed your shift in demeanor, he chose not to say anything.

Just how far could you push before you lost your own game?

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Covered head to toe in splotches of paint, roller soaked with color wielded in hand - this was your element. The lobby was coming along beautifully, the color already drying in some areas exactly as you'd imagined. It gave you a pang of nostalgia, the familar scent of home ghosting your senses. You had begged Niragi to let you paint the living room a similar shade, desperate to bring a taste of the coast home with you permanently.

Though you'd only been to the beach once in your life, when you were very young, it was one of the only happy memories you had of your father. A piece of your history that actually kept you safe, warming you from the inside out. Where most memories of your father left empty, bleeding holes in your chest, this one filled you with joy, calmness.

You could just about hear Niragi's voice describing the details, curled up with you under the covers. The aftermath. No longer was there loud shouting echoing the halls, the sound of leather against skin had all but dissolved. When all the bad was said and done, it was your brother's soft voice that remained. Promising that things would be okay, if you just held onto those good thoughts a little longer.

The spray of the ocean tickling your skin, blue waves lapping gently at your feet. The funny scream of the seagulls flapping overhead, waiting for a child to drop a fry so they can feast. The gritty sand making its way between your toes, grounding you into this Earth. The serene feeling of freedom, of wholeness that being there brought you. You could almost feel all of it.

Things will be okay if you just hold onto those good thoughts. Niragi will be okay.

You wondered briefly if the color of The Beach's lobby would do anything for your brother. If it would transport him home, or make him think of the same shared memory you were having.

Breaking from these thoughts to continue your task, you climb up the tall metal ladder Aguni had found for you earlier, beginning to roll the paint onto the next section of wall. You start to lose yourself again in the hypnotizing sound of the roller against the wall when someone approaches from behind you.

"Oh! I've always wanted to try painting! You're doing such a good job in here. Can I help?" A kind, but unfamiliar voice calls to you from below. You smile a little bit, looking down to find a tall girl with dreads in a cute blue floral bikini. She is adorable.

You set the roller down in the paint tray and climb down, wiping your hands on your oversized t-shirt in the process. "Of course you can help. I need all the help I can get! What's your name?"

"Kuina," she tells you excitedly, "it's really nice to meet you." You tell her your name in turn, shaking her hand in greeting. Her excitement is contagious, and you get the feeling that you'll be really fast friends.

With Kuina's help, the walls of the lobby have their first and second coat of paint in no time. The two of you move on to rearranging the new furniture you and Hatter had brought back with you, chattering like old besties the entire time. You had had Hatter's hunky guards move the old, dusty chairs and couches out by the dumpsters before you started painting - not that they'd ever make their way to a landfill - the less obstacles in here the better.

The new sand colored wicker furniture really brightened up the space, creating a fun little nook for people to hang out in the air conditioning if they wanted to. There were a couple more final details you felt were needed to really pull the look together, but you were really pleased with the progress for one day. Your vision had been realized, AND you'd made a new friend.

It would be good for you to not rely so heavily on Niragi and Chishiya.

"Do you want to get lunch together?" you ask the girl cautiously, as if overstepping. She nods her head enthusiastically, agreeing to meet you by the pool after getting cleaned up and changing.

"So how long have you been here?" the girl asks through a bite - well, slurp - of instant noodles. It was a great perk that food was easy to come by at The Beach, though meals were still far from gourmet. You briefly wonder if there's anything that can be done about that.

Left hand coming to twist the earring in your ear once again, you consider the question for a beat. "My best friend and I have been at The Beach for five days now, I think? But here in this world for eleven?" you say questioningly, trying to do the mental calculation. How had time passed by so quickly? You furrow your brow in concern.

Kuina nods thoughtfully, "time moves weirdly here, I've noticed too. I've been in this place for about a week myself, but just got to The Beach last night." She takes the cap off of her water bottle, "I came back with a bored blonde guy and an angry looking one with a gun - do you know them?" You nearly spit out the juice you'd taken a swig of while she was talking, wanting to laugh at the very accurate description of the two people you cared about most.

You raise your eyebrow, stirring the beans? on your plate, trying not to burst out laughing. "So you've met both my best friend AND my brother," you smirk, "lucky you! And yet you still came seeking my friendship, I'm honored." The girl smacks you playfully with her towel and you yelp mockingly, placing a hand on your chest in faux offense.

"You're definitely better than them," she laughs, "not only are they boring, but I also don't think they will let me do makeovers on them." You laugh at this, but pretend to think about it; stroking your chin thoughtfully.

"I probably wouldn't mess with my brother, but we could probably convince Chishiya to try a little bit of eyeliner!" Both of you dissolve into a fit of giggles, your lunches left forgotten on the plastic beach chairs.

With a friend like Kuina, things in this strange land might not be so bad after all.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

You were looking forward to a quiet night with your best friend; he was finally being allowed a rare night off after clearing a Nine of Diamonds yesterday. The same game that had brought Kuina to The Beach.

He had been gone all day. You hadn't initially noticed, thankfully, because of the shopping excursion, painting, and meeting Kuina - you had done a pretty good job of keeping yourself distracted AND out of trouble. Once you saw him again when it was time for the evening Executive meeting, you realized how much you'd missed him.

You squirm in your chair at the board table in the conference room, right leg bouncing in anticipation. Your eyes begin to stray from Hatter to your surroundings - Niragi to your left, leaning with his head on the back of his chair, rolling his eyes in disbelief; Chishiya to your right, also looking, well, bored. The room was still as ugly as ever, you'd really need to prioritize it after the lobby renovation was complete. Hatter was back to being facetious, pompous, and damn boring. Couldn't this meeting have been an email?

Kuzuryu, Mira, and Ann were given their assignments for the games tonight, everyone else taking the night off. After several more minutes of tedious reminders, Hatter finally dismisses the meeting, and you spring up out of your chair with renewed energy. You latch onto Chishiya's arm, "let's get dinner and catch up, okay?" You ask excitedly, "I missed you today."

Chishiya's eyes flick up briefly to something - someone - behind you, but quickly back to your face. When you look back, no one is there. "I have some stuff to take care of tonight. You'll have to occupy yourself," he deadpans, removing your hand from his arm and walking quickly out of the conference room before you can even pick your jaw up off the floor. What the fuck was that about?

Not for the first time in this stupid country, you feel like you've been punched in the gut. You hadn't expected Niragi to change, of course not. And yet, he had. You were on your way to accepting that. But Chishiya? Chishiya ALWAYS took your side. Was always there. Was always yours.

And now? Now you don't know. Don't understand where his head is at. What could he possibly "need to take care of" that he couldn't tell you about? Your mind briefly flickers back to the pistol hidden behind the painting in your room, your stomach churning as usual. Your gut told you it had something to do with Niragi, that he was probably the person who'd been behind you before. Something to do with why their relationship was so strained right now. You know that you cannot go back to your own room, that you can't sit alone with these feelings all night. Numbly, you allow your feet to lead you to the only other place you know you can go - Kuina.

Your new friend excitedly lets you in the door, face falling a little bit when she notices your bad mood. Without saying a word, she opens her arms to offer a hug, and you melt gratefully into her arms. The hug comforts you so much that your resolve breaks down and you spill your guts; telling her about the men in your life acting weird. You decide against telling her all the details, as you still don't know what kind of game these two idiots are playing, and you don't want to ruin whatever it is if it ends up being life or death.

"I don't know, Kuina. Both of them are just acting weird, and I really don't know what to do with it," you say dejectedly. Kuina looks at you sadly for a minute, obviously unsure of what to say. She'd never been in a position like this.

Then suddenly, a twinkle of mischief pops into her eyes as an idea appears.

"Let's get dressed up and party! Everyone else is enjoying the pool and dancing, we should too!" She runs into her bathroom, bringing out her tackle box filled with makeup.

She lifts an eyebrow, "priorities, right?" You laugh a little now, realizing you hadn't even seen makeup in over a week. It could be fun to see how the rest of The Beach citizens live, after all. Do as the Romans do, right? You nod in agreement, allowing her to sit you down on her bed to do your makeup. You had discussed makeovers earlier by the pool, why not get started now?.

"You're going to wear a red bikini tonight," she decides for you, "if you don't have one, we're going to find you one. It will help you feel better." You chuckle, not knowing how a red bikini would make you feel better, but you decide to trust the process. You do, in fact, have a red bikini to wear. Kuina smacks you for laughing, "stop moving! I'm trying to do your cat eye!" You have to fight the urge to giggle again. You had really been missing out on having a best girlfriend.

The girl is efficient, but amazing. When she hands you a mirror to check yourself out, you gasp in awe. Your eyes sparkle brightly, no longer showcasing how tired you were. Your face shape was contoured and highlighted immaculately, it really took your breath away. Any previous gripes that you'd had with the way you looked disappeared because of Kuina's makeover. She needed to give you lessons.

She sees your eyes starting to tear up in joy, "no! Your mascara isn't waterproof! There will be no crying tonight." You're smiling again, grateful to have found a friend like her in a place like this. She takes this moment to run a curling iron through your hair, creating perfect beach waves "for the perfect beach princess" she mocked. You groan, Hatter's nickname for you obviously not staying very private. Once Kuina is satisfied with your appearance and hers, you link arms and walk to your room to change into your red bikini. Finally ready for your first beach party.

The party is already bumping, more people than you've ever seen at The Beach before are out swaying to the music and shouting in joy. Everyone is having a great time. You stare down at the liquor sitting in front of you, sparkling in the light like it was laughing at you. It wasn't as though you hadn't had alcohol before - Niragi had allowed it on a few occasions in recent years. But never shots of straight liquor. A flash of the old Niragi enters your head as if he was your conscience trying to tell you it's a bad idea.

But that version of your brother is seemingly non-existent. Replaced with a person who won't even look at you, and likely gets all of his information through your so-called best friend who ALSO wasn't vibing with him. For that reason alone, you take the first shot. And then the next. And the next. And so on until you've drunk your way through the rainbow and feel yourself being tugged by Kuina to the dance floor.

You faintly recognize the song as being something popular back in the other world, though it mostly just sounded loud. Kuina took both of your hands, spinning you around and around with her as you both found your rhythm. You could barely breathe with how hard the two of you were giggling, a mixture of the liquor burning through your veins and the jubilent atmosphere infecting you.

You stay like that with Kuina for a few songs, jumping and screaming the wrong lyrics, and laughing like you weren't stuck living in a place that forced you to face your mortality nearly every night. Maybe the citizens of The Beach weren't so stupid after all. The longer you dance, the fuzzier your surroundings become. The alcohol is starting to take over your system and you love the feeling of freedom it's affording you.

After a while, you feel a pair of hands grasp onto your hips, guiding your movements slightly as you continue your movements. You were suddenly too drunk and starting to spin out of control, so you couldn't even turn around to find out. The majority of your brain was telling you it was fine, just play along with this too. You were just dancing with someone, right?

Kuina had become preoccupied too, dancing with a girl you'd seen earlier tanning by the pool. The music was pounding deliciously through your body, lights flashing around you. For the first time in maybe forever, you felt totally free. Free from the concerns about Niragi, free from worrying about whatever was going on between you and Chishiya, free from worrying about your potentially imminent death.

You couldn't be bothered in this moment, letting this feeling wash over you entirely. All was well until the person dancing with you got a little too aggressive. A little too handsy. A little too pushy. It was one thing to dance innocently with a stranger, but another thing entirely for that stranger to be suddenly sucking on your neck.

"Wanna get out of here?" his gravelly, unfamiliar voice asks you, already starting to lead you towards the building. Your stomach turns, you really shouldn't have let Kuina talk you into the rainbow shots. You open your mouth to tell him no, to tell him to get lost. You just wanted to dance, nothing more. The words don't come out, and he takes that silence as agreement. No.

The man that you still haven't had the courage to look up at clamps onto your upper arm and guides you forcefully away from the dance floor. The ground spins dangerously under you, threatening to come closer to your face with every passing moment. You've lost sight of Kuina in the throng of bodies, all still moving collectively to the way too loud music. Not a single person noticing that something was amiss around them.

"Steady there, sweetheart. Let's get you out of here," he purrs, doing nothing to settle your stomach or the nerves that have lit on fire within you. You can just barely hear the chatter of the crowd through your pulse pounding in your ears. The fuzziness is growing stronger and you know that you have lost all control. You do not like this part of drinking.

Before you know it, you're being pushed up against the brick wall of the hallway just inside the resort's doors, caged between the stranger's arms. You try pushing your arm against his chest, to push him away from you half-heartedly. Unfortunately, he seems to like that. Your brain feels too foggy to actually fight back, and you know immediately that this guy isn't someone you recognize. A new arrival.

His hot breath hits your face as he brings his closer to yours, noses nearly grazing. You want to get away, letting out a squeak of protest. You're going to be sick.

"I don't believe silence is consent," a monotone voice rings out from down the hall. Chishiya. Your glassy eyes find his blonde hair, and he isn't alone. Your eyes are too blurry, too filled with tears and drunkenness to make out who the other person is, but you have a feeling you know anyway based on the way tension fills the hallway. Chishiya walks closer to the man, saying your name softly. He reaches a hand to you, "come." You jump at the chance, pushing away from the man who is now too scared to even look at you again, arms raised in the air.

Chishiya's arms wrap around you just as your vision finally goes black.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Cold, tiled floor. That is what you felt as your mind started to wake. The next thing? A throbbing, fully radiating headache. You groan, rolling over onto your back with your eyes still squeezed shut tight. Why the hell had you let Kuina talk you into partying anyway? Stupid. You don't escape your problems like that without paying a cost, and here it was. It didn't take a genius to realize that you'd probably been sick as a dog all night.

A hand reaches out to brush some stringy hair from your face, "good morning, Koko." Ah. So you weren't alone on the freezing bathroom floor.

You wince hearing his voice, though he had spoken softly. You still want to be mad at him for ditching you last night. "Oh, so you actually want to be my friend today?" You scoff, "it's your fault I'm hungover anyway."

You can hear the smirk in your friend's voice as he shifts closer to you, "is it, darling? And how is that?" He brushes his fingers through your hair, coaxing you to lean into his touch, though still slightly unwillingly. You can feel his gaze studying you, even without opening your eyes.

You simply sigh, crossing your arms over your chest but making no move to get off the bathroom floor, or answer Chishiya's question. Crabby.

He breathes out through his nose gently, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow, teasing, "were you trying to make me jealous, Koko?" Your eyes fly open in surprise, the bright light immediately agitating your headache. You groan loudly and cover your face with your hands. You pause for a moment. Had you been trying to make Chishiya jealous last night? Maybe a little bit.

"Did it work?" You query hesitantly through your hands, too sick and slightly embarrassed to move your hands.

The blonde hums thoughtfully, still toying with a piece of your hair. You feel him lay down next to you again, arm propping his head up and still studying you, "When I saw you caged between that man's arms I wanted to kill him." He sighs, "I was so afraid for you, and yes. I was certainly jealous until I noticed that you were wasted."

Guy? You remember taking shots with Kuina and getting out on the dancefloor, but everything after that was pretty fuzzy. Your memory of last night not very good. "What happened?" you ask hesitantly, not exactly sure you want to know the answer.

"You'll have to talk to Kuina to get most of the story, but when I walked in, he was already trying to drag you to his room. I pulled you away from him and got you back up here before you threw up on yourself," he chuckles a little bit near the end. You smack him on the arm for laughing at your expense. So much for the sexy red bikini, then.

"Thanks for that," you say sarcastically, though taking his hand and squeezing it. You rack your brain for a moment, trying to remember exactly who you'd been dancing with. "Who was it?" you finally ask.

Chishiya clicks his tongue and looks away for a minute. Great, something he doesn't want to tell you. "He was one of the new militants, just arrived to The Beach yesterday. I don't think he knew who you were yet. . ." Chishiya trails off in thought. Your heart starts beating faster, knocking against your ribcage unpleasantly.

"What do you mean, WAS?" you ask in instant panic, suddenly having a flicker of memory from last night.

Chishiya walks closer to the man, saying your name softly. He reaches a hand to you, "come." You jump at the chance, pushing away from the man who is now too scared to even look at you again. Your blurry eyes flicker from his frightened countenance to the pissed off one behind him. You knew the second face, but the look on it was not something you had seen in your lifetime. If you hadn't been beyond wasted, you'd have been terrified too.

Niragi had been the second person in the hallway when Chishiya showed up. Niragi had looked at the man with a murderous gaze. Your eyes search your friend's, "he didn't. . ."

Chishiya didn't respond but pulled you immediately into his chest, shushing you, "It's what had to be done." He doesn't need to say anything else, you know he's finally done it.

Your brother murdered someone for touching you.

Your stomach turns violently, forcing you to push Chishiya away and throw yourself back towards the toilet. With absolutely nothing left in your system, you're left dry heaving with tears pricking the corners of your eyes. This is the worst.

Chishiya sits up, pulling your hair out of your face and stroking your back. "Easy, darling. You're going to hurt yourself," he coos. Gulping for air and allowing the tears to flow loudly, you lay your forehead against the cool porcelain; eventually sinking back to the floor in despair. Could Niragi still be redeemed from something so heinous?

Chishiya allows you to ground yourself against the cool floor, hanging onto the front of his jacket like a lifeline, crying and blubbering nonsensically about everything that had been happening with Niragi, and whatever was going on with their relationship. In true Chishiya fashion, he doesn't say a word. Just hums in agreement, shushing and stroking your back to help you to relax. For all of your complaints about your best friend, you were grateful that he could continuously see you at your worst and still want to be around you. Eventually you succumb to how tired your body was, obviously not sleeping well last night from the hangover wracking your body.

As you feel yourself being carried into the room and tucked into bed for actual sleep, your friend speaks again when he's pretty sure you're already in dreamland, "don't give up on him yet, Koko. Just keep playing the game, and we'll be home soon enough."

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Previous Chapter

The Game Itself Masterlist

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multi-stays · 3 months ago

Text

Make You Mine

Paring: Omega!LeeKnow/Alpha!FemReader

Genre: 18+ Smut/Hybrid AU

Summary: Another boring day at school soon takes a turn when the new student steps in, turning heads with her Alpha scent.

Note: A Smut collab with @inkandtension

✨💜Warnings under the cut💜✨

Warnings: rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, pet names(good girl, Baby), dirty talk, knotting, making out, French kissing

Minho wasn’t sure what to expect when the teacher announced they’d have a new student joining their class. Honestly, nothing good ever came from those announcements. It was either someone who’d instantly become a teacher’s pet, or someone who’d break the curve on every test. The murmurs among his classmates were just as chaotic as usual:

“Is it an omega?” whispered one girl, clutching her notebook like the mere idea of another omega might shatter her fragile dreams.

“Maybe another Iota?” chimed in a guy from the back.

“Do you think they’ll be hot?” asked another, leaning so far forward in their desk that Minho feared they might actually slide off. Priorities, apparently, were alive and well in this room.

Minho sighed, staring at his notebook and twirling his pen like a bored drummer. Why did everyone always act like this was a game of “Guess the Newbie”? What were they expecting? That the door would burst open and some sparkling creature would walk in, tossing their hair? Reality was far less exciting. It was probably just another Kappa with a questionable sense of humor or an omega with an even more questionable haircut.

The highest rank to ever exist in the building is an epsilon, Seungmin.

But Minho didn’t care. He was far more invested in perfecting the little doodle of a disgruntled cat in the margins of his notebook than in yet another transfer student who’d probably cause a minor riot for a week and then vanish into the gray blur of mediocrity. He’d seen it all before: the hushed whispers, the speculative stares, the over-the-top introductions. It was always the same routine, and frankly, he wasn’t interested.

That was until you walked in.

The moment the door creaked open, it was as if someone had flipped a switch. The shift in the air was immediate, sharp, almost electric. Conversations screeched to a halt mid-sentence. Pencils froze mid-scribble. Even the class’s notorious gum-chewer accidentally swallowed it down.

Minho, still blissfully immersed in giving his cat doodle the perfect grumpy expression, barely registered the collective intake of breath around him. Then it hit him—the scent.

He blinked.

But every step you took radiated an energy that screamed, "Yes, I’m the main character, and yes, you’re all extras."

Your gaze swept the room, scanning the sea of wide-eyed faces, ranging from shock to something bordering on fear, some confused. Maybe this was what you got for walking into a room of alpha-scent-deprived omegas and humans—a cocktail of curiosity, unease, and outright fascination brewing in the air. It wasn’t entirely your fault; the odds of encountering anyone outside the standard rankings here were slim to none.

This place was the catch—a strange little bubble where no other rankings, except for the occasional omega and a handful of kappas, existed for miles. If you were lucky, you might stumble across two or three iotas or epsilon types in the wild, like rare birds someone whispered about but never actually saw. This wasn’t just a school; it was the breach, a shaky middle ground between werewolf instincts and human normalcy.

And here you were, freshly thrust into the mix, a human (used to be) and newly turned, still figuring out what that even meant. Adjusting wasn’t exactly your strong suit, especially with instincts that swung between “protect everyone” and “don’t touch me, I’ll fucking pluck your eyes.” The city was too much—too loud, too crowded, too full of conflicting scents that tangled up in your brain and made every second feel like a fight to breathe.

So you’d come here, to this quiet pocket of nowhere, hoping for something simpler. But the stares around you said this wasn’t going to be simple at all.

But what really made Minho’s pen falter mid-stroke was the scent rolling off you. It wasn’t the typical “oh, I’m new and slightly nervous” smell that transfer students wore like an awkward cologne. No, this was different. This was like a summer storm breaking through a stifling heatwave—sharp, invigorating, and impossible to ignore.

“An alpha,” someone whispered, as if the word itself might summon divine intervention.

Minho slowly looked up, and his eyes met yours. He told himself the clench in his stomach was just hunger. Or indigestion. Or maybe his body’s reaction to realizing that, for once, this might not just be another forgettable week.

“Sit wherever there’s space."

Your gaze settled on the middle row, right before the doodling guy. There, two boys sat next to each other—one, a kappa who looked nonchalantly at his notebook, and the other, an omega. His fluffy brown hair framed his soft features, and he had the kind of face that could light up a room.

Instinct kicked in, and you moved toward them. Every step closer made the omega’s scent more vivid—sweet, with a hint of vanilla.

Stopping beside the kappa, you tilted your head.

“Move,” you said, voice steady but not unkind.

The guy blinked at you, then at the omega beside him, before grabbing his things and relocating without a word. You slid into the seat, your presence filling the space as you set your bag on the floor and leaned slightly toward the omega.

“Hi,” you said with a small smile, voice low but friendly.

His eyes—round, wide, and startled—met yours. His scent spiked, sugary sweetness intensifying as his lips parted slightly. “H-Hi…” he stammered, voice barely above a whisper.

It took you a second to realize that his cheeks were flushed, his breaths coming faster, pupils blown wide. Then it hit you—the telltale signs of an omega thrown into a sudden rut.

The boy’s fingers gripped the edge of his desk as he looked away, clearly trying to compose himself. “I—I need to go,” he muttered quickly, standing and nearly stumbling as he hurried out of the classroom.

The teacher paused mid-sentence, eyebrows raised, but didn’t stop him. Omegas in rut weren’t uncommon, after all.

Before you could think too much about it, someone sitting behind you leaned forward. “You’ve got some presence,” they whispered.

You turned to see another omega—this one with dark, sharp eyes and a slightly annoyed expression. His scent was more subtle than the first omega’s, but it still carried an unmistakable undercurrent of tension.

“Did you have to pick his seat?” he asked, his tone almost accusatory.

“What do you mean?”

The boy scoffed lightly. “Jisung’s sensitive. You sitting there just flipped his whole system upside down, it’s his first time sensing an alpha, everyone told him it’s so good and he didn’t believe it”

“Is that so?” you mused, a smirk tugging at your lips, noting his name in your head, cute. “And you? Are you about to run out of here too?”

“If you’re going to keep sitting there,” he said, his voice steady but his scent betraying him again, “don’t think you’ll get to me that easily.”

You leaned back in your seat, amused. “What’s your name?”

“Minho,” he said. “And don’t think you’re all that just because you made him run out.”

Your grin widened. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

Minho narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond. From the corner of your eye, you saw him fidgeting slightly, his scent wavering like he was trying not to be affected by you.

Jisung was still nowhere to be seen when the bell rang. Minho stood, grabbing his bag, and paused beside you.

“If you really want to cause chaos, keep sitting there,” he said, lips twitching into a half-smile. “Just don’t be surprised if the rest of the omegas around here can’t handle you.”

You tilted your head, watching him leave.

The next day, the energy in the classroom was electric. Whispers filled the air as students leaned into each other, exchanging glances and hushed remarks. The focus of their chatter? You.

“She’s the only alpha in the whole school,” one girl murmured, her eyes flicking to Jisung, who sat slouched in his seat, face burning red.

“Bet she smelled Jisung’s rut yesterday,” a guy teased, grinning.

“Leave me alone,” Jisung muttered, sinking lower in his chair. His scent spiked slightly, a mix of embarrassment and lingering arousal, which only made the others laugh harder.

“Relax, Jisung,” another boy said, smirking. “Maybe she likes you. She did choose to sit next to you.”

“Shut up!” Jisung snapped, voice cracking, which only made the teasing worse.

Minho, who sat a behind, clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Would you all stop acting like pups? It’s pathetic,” he said, his sharp tone silencing most of the group.

But even Minho couldn’t completely hide the tension in his scent, a subtle undercurrent of something heated and restrained.

Before anyone could reply, the door opened, and the room instantly fell silent. Your scent hit them first—a commanding presence that rippled through the air like a shockwave. Omegas and betas alike straightened in their seats, their teasing forgotten as they instinctively lowered their gazes. Even Minho stiffened, his fingers curling slightly around the edge of his desk.

You walked in with the same confidence as the day before, your sharp gaze scanning the room before settling on your seat beside Jisung. You offered him a faint smile as you sat down, and he practically choked on his own breath, fumbling to look anywhere but at you.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel it—the way every gaze lingered, every breath hitched. It wasn’t just curiosity; it was instinctual. They couldn’t help it.

A moment later, the teacher walked in—a middle-aged omega woman whose scent was laced with the faintest trace of nerves. She cleared her throat, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. For a brief second, her scent wavered, and you caught it—a mix of apprehension and something else she quickly suppressed.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice a little too tight as she began calling attendance.

When she got to your name, she hesitated, glancing up at you before quickly moving on. It was subtle, but everyone noticed.

By the third day, the classroom dynamics had started to shift. Initially, everyone had been on edge around you, their instincts hyper aware of your alpha presence. But you made an effort to be approachable—smiling at your classmates, helping pick up dropped notebooks, and even laughing at their jokes. Slowly, the tension eased, and people started to warm up to you.

Even Jisung, who had been a nervous wreck at first, now managed to talk to you without tripping over his words. “You’re surprisingly chill for an alpha,” he said one afternoon, offering you a shy grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, raising an eyebrow but grinning back.

“Just…you’re nice,” he said, cheeks tinting pink. “Like, you don’t act like you’re better than everyone.”

“Why would I?” you replied with a shrug. “I mean, sure, I’m an alpha, but that doesn’t make me more important than anyone else.”

Your casual attitude quickly became a topic of conversation. People in the class started to joke about how “cool” you were for an alpha, and some of the braver students—especially the omegas—began to test the limits of your friendliness.

One afternoon, as you were talking to Jisung and Minho, a group of omega girls approached. They giggled among themselves, their scents sugary and playful, as one of them leaned a little too close.

“You smell really good,” she said, her voice soft and sweet.

You blinked at her, caught off guard. “Uh, thanks?”

Another girl chimed in, her tone teasing. “Can we…smell you? Like, just a little? You’re an alpha, after all.”

You hesitated, glancing at Jisung and Minho. Jisung’s face was bright red, his scent spiking with embarrassment, while Minho rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath.

“Um, sure?” you said, scratching the back of your neck. “If it makes you happy.”

The girls squealed in delight, leaning in closer. One of them brushed her shoulder against yours, while another pretended to adjust your collar, her fingers lingering a little too long. You couldn’t help but laugh nervously, unsure of how to handle the sudden attention.

“Wow,” one of them said dreamily, inhaling deeply. “No wonder everyone’s obsessed with you.”

Minho let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re letting them take advantage of you,” he muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

“They’re just curious,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“Curious, my ass,” he shot back, his sharp gaze cutting to the girls. “They’re practically rubbing themselves on you.”

At his words, one of the girls giggled, leaning even closer to you. “Don’t be jealous, Minho,” she teased, her tone playful.

“I’m not,” he snapped, his cheeks faintly pink.

The tension in the room shifted slightly, and you decided it was time to put an end to the situation. Standing, you stepped back, creating a little space between yourself and the girls. “Okay, that’s enough sniffing for one day,” you said, laughing lightly to keep the mood relaxed.

The girls pouted but didn’t push further, returning to their seats with lingering smiles.

As you sat back down, Minho leaned forward, his voice low. “You’re too nice for your own good.”

“I’m just trying to make friends,” you replied with a shrug.

“Friends don’t grope each other,” he muttered, his scent spiking slightly with irritation.

You smirked, leaning your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Oh, really? What about you and Jisung?”

Minho froze, his expression shifting into something between horror and indignation. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re always smacking him on the butt,” you said, your grin widening. “Isn’t that technically groping?”

Jisung nearly choked on his drink, bursting into laughter as Minho’s ears turned pink. “She’s got you there,” Jisung wheezed.

Jisung leaned closer to you, still giggling. “Welcome to the group,” he said.

“Thanks,” you replied, grinning. “I think I’m going to like it here.”

Minho took a bite of his sandwich, trying to ignore the low hum of tension in the air as the other students filtered through the cafeteria.

"Hey, you," a voice broke through his thoughts.

He turned to see a girl standing in front of you, holding her tray with a friendly smile. She was one of the more outgoing girls from their class, known for her habit of striking up conversations with just about anyone. Her omega scent was subtle but noticeable in the sea of mixed smells.

“Hey, um… you. I was wondering if you’d like to come to the sauna with the girls after school?” She asked, almost nervously, glancing around to make sure no one was listening too closely. “We all thought it’d be fun, you know, a little bonding time. Plus, I heard you’re new here, and we’d love to have you join.”

The other girls sitting around the table exchanged glances, some of them clearly waiting for your response with bated breath. It wasn’t unusual for the omega girls to invite new students to these kinds of social gatherings, but there was something about this particular invitation that felt a little more… deliberate. The scent of the group shifted slightly as the girls around her leaned forward, hoping to gauge your reaction.

Minho glanced at you from the corner of his eye, still chewing his sandwich but now far more aware of the situation than before. He had to admit, the idea of a group sauna sounded strange to him. He knew the way omegas could act when they were in groups—clustering around an alpha like they were about to do something they couldn’t do alone.

Would you go? Minho wondered. Something about it seemed off to him, and he wasn’t sure whether he should just ignore it or step in.

You glanced up at the girl, the faintest smile tugging at your lips as you assessed the situation. The air around you was thick with anticipation, the other girls practically holding their breath, eager to hear what you’d say.

You let the silence hang for a moment, letting the tension build, before you tilted your head slightly and said, “A sauna, huh? Sounds fun... but I think I’ll pass.”

The girl blinked, taken aback by your response, her hopeful expression faltering for a moment. You could practically see the other girls' shoulders slump in disappointment, the air around them deflating.

The girl who had asked you stepped back, her cheeks flushed with a mix of confusion and slight embarrassment. "Oh… okay, no worries!" she stammered before turning to leave, her friends quickly following suit.

...

A few months had passed since you’d first joined the class, and Minho had started to get used to your presence. It was strange how you could throw the entire class into a whirlwind just by walking into a room. The scent of an alpha—strong and commanding—had made everyone on edge at first. But as time went on, he found himself becoming more accustomed to it.

However, for the past three days, you hadn’t shown up.

Everyone noticed, of course.

The usual buzz of chatter and whispers had been a little quieter without you there.

For those three days, Minho sat beside Jisung. It wasn’t like you to just skip class, so naturally, they both worried. What happened? Was she sick? Something else? Minho couldn’t help but feel a nagging concern in the pit of his stomach.

As they were leaving school together, Jisung, who had been unusually quiet that day, turned to Minho.

“Do you think we left something under the desk?” he asked.

“In case we forgot something.”

Minho shrugged and crouched down beside the desk. He slipped his hand under the desk, feeling around.

He paused when his fingers brushed against something soft. A cloth. A handkerchief, to be exact.

Without saying a word, Minho pulled it out and tucked it into his pocket.

“Nothing there,” he said casually, trying to mask the odd sense of familiarity he felt as he looked at the handkerchief. Something about it seemed like it belonged. Something about it felt... personal.

Later, when Minho was alone at home, his thoughts wandered back to the handkerchief. His curiosity got the best of him, and he took it out, smelling it. The soft fabric had a faint trace of your scent—your unique, unmistakable alpha scent was strong enough to intoxicate him.

“Hey Minho, sorry I’ve been missing the past few days. I’m kind of... out of it. Could you bring me some mango juice? I’m craving it right now.”

Minho blinked, staring at the screen. There was something off about the message, something that triggered a sudden awareness in him. He knew you weren’t just sick—you weren’t the type to let something like that keep you down for long.

Before he could stop himself, he was already typing a reply.

“Of course, I’ll bring it to you.”

He didn’t tell Jisung. There was no need to explain, not when he wasn’t sure how to even explain his own feelings. You hadn’t shared much with him about your personal life, and he certainly didn’t know much about your habits—besides the scent of an alpha that always seemed to hang around you. The idea of running errands for you wasn’t a big deal... but there was something about the request that felt different now, more urgent.

After school, Minho found himself standing in front of your house, the mango juice clutched in his hand, his mind racing. This wasn’t the first time he’d done something for you. But this time felt different.

He hesitated before knocking. When you opened the door, his senses were hit by a wave of your scent—sharp, heady, and overwhelmingly potent. It hit him like a physical force, almost suffocating in its intensity. It wasn’t just the usual traces of you—this was something entirely different. Something raw, primal, and undeniably irresistible.

His breath hitched in his throat as the scent wrapped around him, clinging to the air like an invisible thread pulling him closer to you. His heart rate quickened, his body reacting to the overwhelming sensation. He hadn’t been prepared for this, hadn’t anticipated just how much your presence would affect him in this state.

You stood there, still slightly flushed, watching him with those eyes of yours—eyes that were both distant and yearning. Minho’s body tensed, caught between wanting to retreat and feeling like he couldn’t move away. It wasn’t like he could just turn and leave; the guilt, the helplessness in your voice, made it impossible to just walk out.

“Minho?” you asked softly, and that was enough to bring him back from the haze the scent had cast over him.

There was a sheen of sweat on your forehead, and your eyes, usually sharp and focused, were clouded with something else.

“I… I’m sorry,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling slightly. “I didn’t want to burden you, but I’m in heat. I didn’t know who else to ask.”

Minho's knees buckled and his mind went foggy, unable to put together a sentence let alone a word. With the look Minho gave, you started to have second thoughts, perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all. “I'm sorry, I can see your uncomfortable. You can leave” you said with a heavy sigh “Thanks for the juice tho.”

“N-no no no it's fine, girls walk around school in heat all the time,” but none of them were Alphas, none of them smelled as powerful and overwhelming as you.

“Do you want to come in then?” you asked, trying your best to still look friendly despite the situation. Minho knew it was a bad idea, didn't know if he could control himself. He'd never been in the presence of an Alpha in heat. He was still just now getting used to being with an Alpha period.

“Uhh, sure I'll come in,” he blurted out. He didn't mean to say yes but it was too late, from then on his fate was sealed.

Once inside Minho was scared to move, everything smelled like you and his mind was still racing a thousand thoughts a second. You shuffled your way around him and sat down on your couch, opening the small drink to take a sip.

“You can sit down, you look weird just standing there,” you said patting the seat beside you.

Instinctually, Minho darted to the seat beside you, unable to control his movements and completely lost in your scent.

Minho sat down on the couch half confidently, but you could smell the nervousness under everything else. His pinky finger slid to yours causing you to look up at him, with those eyes of yours.

The moment lasted for what seemed like forever, the two of you staring at each other. His face plastered with a half-smirk, yours blank trying to read what your next move should be.

“So whatcha wanna do?” you said, devilishly placing your hand on his thigh.

The nervous in Minho smelled faint now, with his hot gaze never leaving your body. He was looking you up and down like some nude magazine and you were loving it.

“Can I be honest?” he said raising an eyebrow. All scent of Minho left the room, that sweet smell you came to love just left and was replaced with something else. What, you couldn't put your finger on but it smelled good.

“Honesty is the best in a relationship right? No matter the context.”

Minho grabbed your hand and began tracing small circles on your palm, delicately his skin brushed against yours, as he continued.

“I want you,” he said, leaning in so close his nose almost touched you. “I want to touch you, smell you, be with you, and quite frankly be in you. You have to feel something or you wouldn't have invited me over tonight, right?”

He tilted his head like he was asking a question, he obviously knew the answer to and you knew just how to respond.

“Challenge complete Minho,” you said looking down with a smirk at the bulge that was now forming in his pants.

Minho didn't mind your words or expression, almost as if he couldn't hear you. He scooted closer and placed his hand on your neck, pulling you closer to him.

“Just relax,” he said kissing you and passionately slipping his tongue in for a taste.

You let yourself fall deeper into Minho and his seductive kiss, even though you were the Alpha, you just wanted to be touched and Minho obliged.

Sliding his hand down, he flipped your skirt up and rubbed his knuckle into your clothed cunt, deep enough to be wet with your slick.

“Fuck your already wet for me huh, such a good girl,” you moaned into his mouth, as he slid your panties to the side and dipped two fingers in, stretching you open in preparation for his cock.

Slowly you rocked your hips, grinding your clit into Minho's hand as you became desperate for friction. “Want me, want my cock in your wet pussy do ya Baby?” he asked, putting your hand in his pants. You wrapped your fingers around his hard shaft and muttered a soft “please” in his ear.

Your whispers sent shivers down Minho’s spine, as you slowly pumped his penis that was now leaking with precum.

“Wanna fill me up?” you whispered, licking his ear trying to entice him. Quickly you learned you didn't need to.

Low growls started pouring out of Minho as he laid your head down on the couch and swiftly whipped his cock out of his pants.

He hoisted your legs up and lined his tip up with your soaking hole. The sight of Minho’s veiny cock, hard and twitching just for you, was enough to send you over the edge right there, until he pushed in.

Putting his hands on either side of you for support he pushed in hard, wasting no time trying to cum in your tight cunt.

You never had sex with an Omega before but knew, none would compare to Minho. His penis made your back arch with each deep thrust and your nails dug into the fabric of his sweater when he would drag it slowly against your spot.

The soft squelching of your slick and his cum churning in your vagina filled the room, making it feel dirtier and sexier while he fucked you.

With each fast slap of Minho’s balls against your ass was another slap of his necklace in your face, tickling you on the nose and earning a smile, despite being fucked roughly by an Omega.

Your room now smelled of sex and his soft spicy scent. No matter how much you cleaned you knew the smell would never leave, especially now with his cum dripping down your ass and onto the fabric of your couch cushion.

“Yes Baby take my pups like a good girl.”

You felt your orgasm crash over you as Minho’s thrusts became sloppy and your cunt even sloppier, walls fluttering and clenching around Minho.

“Fuck your so tight, can't hold on.”

His big knot stretched your hole and soon made it impossible for Minho to move any further. For an Omega, he surely had a big penis, perhaps his confidence and arrogance came from there you thought, as you were looking him in the eyes, stuck but very much where you wanted to be at that moment.

“You're so pretty,” he said placing a soft kiss on your cheek, his sweat making his dewy skin stick to yours.

“Don’t say something you don't mean Minho, it’s fine if you just wanted to fuck the Alpha of the school” you said, hoping he would correct you, hoping he would say your wrong and that he really did love you.

You swallowed your spit hard, when he spoke again.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, I really do think you're pretty and I want you to be mine.” He stared you straight in the face with his cute earnest eyes, intimidating you whilst somehow still comforting you, a mix of emotions you've never felt before, like smells that didn't match. The only thing you could blame it on was his big soft sweater against your skin as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I think you've made me yours Minho,” you said motioning to where the two of you were still connected.

“You know what I mean,” he said rolling his eyes. Leaning up you chased him into another kiss, sloppy and wet, both your lips now swollen and red from all the desperate kissing that happened just a minute ago.

“You know, for an Omega you have a great penis.”

Minho looked at you with a cute toothy smirk and pretended to whip a piece of his hair out of his face.

“You know, when I'm rutting my knot is way bigger. You plan on taking that in your tiny pussy?”

“Of course Minho, I accept the challenge.”

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