#phew this was long thanks for reading this far!

[demoonlady]

Chapter 210: Offering to the Unknown, Part 2

// SPOILER WARNING!!! DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE CHAPTER YET. [WARNING: VERY LENGTHY!]

Opening words: “In a dark, abandoned house...”

》 Hana: "He's a local guide. In other words, he's a traitor."

》 Takaba, to Soldier/Guide: "You... YOU 'QUISLING'!!"

》 Hana: "You just wanted to say 'quisling', right? Kindly shut up."

Here, Takaba used 売国奴 (baikokudo) in quotation marks. Baikokudo means a traitor (to one's country), but since there's quotation marks, I figured it could refer to something or someone else. So I looked up some other possible meanings and, true enough, I came across "quisling". And interestingly, "quisling" happened to be the last name of a Norwegian WWII leader Vidkun Quisling, who sold out his own country (he urged Hitler to invade Norway in 1940), after which Quisling proclaimed himself head of the government. I'm certain Takaba was using this Quisling guy as his joke reference when he called the guide/soldier "baikokudo"!

“We should all be profoundly grateful to Major Quisling. He has added a new word to the English language … as a plain synonym for ‘traitor.’ … To journalists and other writers, weary of racking their brains or raking the well-thumbed pages of ROGET [sic] in search of alternatives, the word ‘Quisling’ is a gift from the gods. If they had been ordered to invent a new word for ‘traitor’ and given carte blanche with the alphabet, they could hardly have hit upon a more brilliant combination of letters.”

— “Quisling is as Quisling Does,” The Times (London), 19 April 1940, 7.

[More info here, if you're interested: United States Holocaust Memorial Museum]

》 Megumi: "So they're researching on [how to become] energy self-sufficient in the future by making their own citizens generate their own [energy]..?" 》 Yuuji: "Hmm?" 》 Hana: "What's even stranger is that this never came up in Japan."

》 Soldier/Guide: "The Jujutsu Headquarters is at the top in this country. That prideful bunch will never take the initiative to promulgate cursed energy. There's no way that'd ever happen."

While not entirely wrong in the official translation, the sentence didn't have a nice ring to it in the latter half of the official version. In the raws, this dude said 「この国のトップはあくまで呪術総監部だ」 (kono kuni no toppu wa akumade jujutsu sōkan-buda). "At the top in this country" just basically means the one in control or hold the most power in the country, so Viz is not wrong. For the second half, I personally prefer what I have corrected. Also, they omitted "there's no way that'd ever happen." :/

》 Soldier/Guide: "Noblesse oblige. Such a concept won't thrive in this country which places great emphasis on self-responsibility."

Idk about others but I feel like the official translation changed the nuance. Anyways, "self-responsibility" is a Japanese phrase known as jiko sekinin (kanji: 自己責任). Meaning, the absolute accountability/responsibility for one's own actions or mistakes. It's more than just a mere expression - it's actually a dogma/ethos that you, and only you, are responsible for your own actions, behaviors, decisions, faults and struggles.

》 Megumi: "...So, Kenjaku used [the prospect of] a new energy source as bait in order to lure an army of non-sorcerers into the colony so they can be offered as sacrifice to the cursed spirits."

FYI, Megumi used both 贄 (nie) and 捧げる (sasageru) here, which means "sacrifice" and "to offer/give", respectively. It coincides with what I said in my last post; about the soldiers being given to the cursed spirits as "sacrifice" or "offerings". :')

》 Angel: "The deaths of a large number of people will manifest [adequate] cursed energy to fill each colony."

I think the focus being made here is how a large number of people's deaths will manifest [enough] cursed energy to fill the colonies, not simply "their deaths".

》 Megumi: "Bringing this many people into each colony? Is that even possible?"

An off translation by Viz.

》 Angel: "It's Kenjaku, after all. The beauty in eight directions who speaks with a forked tongue. It's likely that military forces from multiple countries are invading."

"Kenjaku is a double-dealer" is only one part of what Angel said, in summary. In fact, there were two proverbs (or idioms?) that Angel used in the first half of their statement.

The first phrase Angel used is actually a Japanese idiom 八方美人 (happoobijin). The translation that I offered is a literal one because 八方 (happo) means "eight directions", and 美人 (bijin) means "a beautiful woman". The phrase implies that a person is always putting on a good face by being too nice and too kind to everyone around them, although that may not necessarily be their true nature. In other words, it just means a two-faced person or people-pleaser. This phrase is used in negative context, so it's not a compliment. Also, while bijin is typically used to describe a beautiful or flawless woman, the term can be used for any gender when discussing their personality.

The other proverb that Angel used is 二枚舌 (nimaijita), which means "forked tongue." To break down the kanji, 二枚 (nimai) = two pieces, and 舌 (jita) = tongue. It simply means someone who is two-faced, tells lies or says contradicting stuff. A person who has a "forked tongue" constantly changes their words, so you can't trust them at all. FYI, there's a longer version of this phrase: 二枚舌を使う (nimaijita o tsukau), which means "to use two tongues." It implies that the person shades the meaning of their words in order to appeal to a particular person/group of people, while purposely giving a different impression to others. The closest English expression for this is "to speak with a forked tongue", hence why I think it's the better translation. Although "double-dealer" is not wrong too. Essentially, Angel's statement could also be translated to "(...) The two-tongued people-pleaser." Or in even simpler, commoner term – if you'd prefer – "(...) That lying, two-faced fake b*tch." HAHAH.

》 Takaba: "The soldiers? But these guys want to abduct us and toy with our bodies, right..?"

》 Takaba's thoughts: "They might also do perverted stuff to us!"

Ehhh, "experimentation" is vague, and not quite right. Takaba made it really clear; he said "toy/mess with our bodies". This would make just anybody pause to think of the horrors for a bit, as compared to "experimentation". [[I mean fr if someone says "toy with our bodies" in front of me, that'd make me shudder and imagine thousands of stuff in my mind.]]

》 Megumi: "But if we leave them be, the "preparation" will be completed and then Tengen-sama, along with everyone in this country, will mash up like dango."

》 Takaba: "Man, I still don't quite get it."

》 Angel: "No."

OK I'm appalled Viz got it wrong for Megumi's statement. He said 団子 (dango) which is rice dumpling, and not 肉団子 (niku-dango) which is meatball :')

As for Angel, it's just a clear "no" or "you mustn't". Not sure why they chose "don't bother".

》 Angel: (...) "There's already enough cursed energy here in Tokyo No. 1 colony."

Official translations made Angel's statement sound like one whole sentence when that's not it. It's as if they're implying that as a result of 50 sorcerers dying in Tokyo No. 1 and No. 2 colonies, the cursed energy inside No. 1 colony is filled up.

The first part of the dialogue was Angel explaining that Tokyo No. 1 and No. 2 already lost 50 sorcerers in battle and it's all "thanks to" (/s) Higuruma and Kashimo. While in the second part, they emphasized to the group that, currently, Tokyo No. 1 colony is already filled up with cursed energy.

》 Yuuji: "So what?"

》 Angel: "I'm telling you there's no point."

》 Angel: "Whether you try to save the soldiers from the cursed spirits or not.. the result won't change."

》 Yuuji: "So... what?"

"Which means?" is incorrect, and furthermore, it sounded as if Yuuji did not understand what Angel said and was asking for more clarification. Not the case here.

Yuuji said "so what?" in both instances. The second time he said it was more like it had an emphasis, as if telling Angel "Yeah, I know that so I'm asking you one more time... SO WHAT?" There's a hint of frustration or hostility, which is not like the usual Yuuji we know when he interacts with someone that's on the good side. This also tallies with what Megumi comments about him later, hence I believe this is the right translation.

》 Angel: (...) "Her risks are my risks."

Just FYI, Hana used リスク (risuku) = "risk".

》 Yuuji: "Don't order us around. I don't trust any of you."

This one got mistranslated, but Yuuji said, and with emphasis, オマエら (omae-ra) which, in this context, means "any of you". Omae-ra is a plural form of "you" so technically it just means "you guys".

Nothing wrong in this, but I just wanted to point out that Hana and Sukuna, interestingly, both used the same phrase here and that is 不愉快 (fuyukai). For Hana, she said 不愉快です (fuyukai desu) whereas, in chapter 10, Sukuna said 不愉快だ (fuyukai da) when Yuuji was inside his Innate Domain. Fuyukai generally means (to feel) uncomfortable, unpleasant, disgusted or annoyed.

》 Soldier: "I'm a soldier. I've always been prepared [to die]. Someday, I might fall to the bullets of terrorists. Someday, in a desert that I don't care about, I might step on a landmine. Someday, someday, someday..."

(...)

》 Yuuji: "Is that so?"

》 Megumi: ".....apart from what you said. When you said "any of you," you meant Angel and Sukuna, right?"

》 Caller: "AAAH, RIGHT!! There's a little girl out here all by herself!! I'd say she's around 5 or 6 years old?? She [seems] extremely worn-out!! So get the police here!!!"

Q told me that this was a village dialect, thank you! My translation might sound incorrect since I don't think I've captured the right 'accent', but I hope it's the better translation. At least, for the age part I know I'm right.

The caller used 年長 (nenchou) which literally means "senior". In Japan, nenchou refers to children between ages 5 to 6 and in senior year (kindergarten).

》 Soldier: "Jesus... You've finally come for me..."

OK, this was a bad translation, Viz. I'm disappointed, lol. Dude wasn't using "Jesus" as an expression, he straight up thought Hana was Jesus. Also, fun fact, this is definitely a reference to 'The Creation of Adam' painting by Michaelangelo (c. 1508–1512).

》 Hana: "It's all [because of] destiny. I believed that someday, I would cross paths with you again. Little by little... I will become someone worthy of standing by your side. I will help/save people."

It should have been "It's all [because of] destiny/fate" instead of what they wrote, like what kind of translation is "fate is all"..?

Hana says 「いつかアナタに巡り合うことを信じて」 (itsuka anata ni meguriau koto o shinjite). The word she used for "meet again" was 巡り合う (meguriau), which literally means "meet by chance" and not intentionally; so Viz was again off here. For someone who had spent quite a while living with a cursed spirit (and possibly a tough life growing up) it's amazing (/s) how Hana had solid faith that fate would so-called reunite her and Megumi one day. Even though it seems like they never actually interacted (unless off-screen -.-). On second thought, this obsession/fixation is pretty weird and a bit creepy, tbh.

》 Megumi: "Usually... you would be more considerate of Kurusu's feelings."

In the raws, Megumi was talking about how "the usual Itadori" would behave/act.

》 Yuuji: "Ever since I rejoined you, [the thought of] Kurusu... becoming a replacement for Kugisaki... scared me."

Kanji for "rejoin" here is 合流 (gōryū) which also means reunite. Nobara crumbs! Thank you, Akutamin!

Closing words: “Solidarity is born... Takaba is here too!!”

—

Comments: Sorry for nitpicking a lot this week, but I just wanted to bring up stuff that's been "lost in translation" in the official version. I might still be wrong in some of my corrections, so please accept my apologies in advance!

The structure of the chapter this week was a little messy but it's not difficult to understand. Normally there'll be black background outside the panels to indicate flashback, which will then slowly fade to white to indicate a transition to the present. But we got none at all in this chapter. I wonder if Gege, his team and the editor had overlooked it or was this structure deemed fine? Nonetheless, I enjoyed the content this week! Takaba breaking the fourth wall in the last panel got me cackling gosh I love him so much hahah!

[sunsburns]

kiss of life (ii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

kiss of life masterlist

summary: i actually suck at writing summaries but basically this is part two of part one of that soulmate au fic i posted a week ago lol

—or: luke castellan is being haunted by kronos and... well, you.

word count: 6.42k

warnings: sorry for any spelling errors, i haven’t checked yet, suppperrr angsty, luke castellan pov as he's slowly being corrupted by kronos, long reading time, descriptive injuries, blood, pre-tlt, luke is stubborn and a dick, loser!luke, annabeth smacking some sense to luke, grover being an icon, reader is lowkey unreliable tbh... cliff hanger (again... lmfao sorry)

a/n: part two!!! thank you guys for all the love on the first part! i am so grateful for everything and i love reading all the comments and reblogs. i hope this one doesn't end up flopping lmfaooo. i honestly wanted this to be a short angsty fic but i got carried away and now i'm planning a whole multi-part fic for this, phew. anyways enjoyyy <;33

At eighteen, Luke was cursed with nightmares. 

They clawed at the edges of his mind, threatening to unravel the fragile front of peace that he had fought so hard to maintain. Each night, he would awaken drenched in a cold sweat, the echoes of his tortured dreams lingering in the corners of his mind like a haunting melody.

The Hermes cabin, once a sanctuary from the outside world, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in around him with each passing moment. The moon, a silent witness to his torment, cast its ethereal glow through the window, illuminating the slumbering forms of campers. Some were children of Hermes, like himself, bound by the tenuous ties of blood and kinship. Others, however, were unclaimed, their parentage shrouded in mystery and uncertainty.

And as Luke lay awake in the stillness of the night, a sense of loneliness washed over him like a tidal wave, drowning him in a sea of doubt. In the depths of his troubled sleep, he could feel the tendrils of darkness closing in around him, threatening to consume him whole. And try as he might to deny it, he knew that his nightmares held a deeper significance, a harbinger of events yet to unfold in the shadowy pits of fate.

His nightmares were callings. A taunting voice would echo through the corridors of his mind, its insidious whispers weaving a thought of deceit and manipulation. It masqueraded as a voice of reason, a beacon beckoning him towards a destiny that promised demigods everything.

At first, Luke dismissed it as nothing more than the ramblings of a tortured soul, the byproduct of his own restlessness. But as the whispers grew louder and more insistent, he could no longer ignore the chilling realization that they were something far more sinister—a call to arms, a summons to embrace his role as a harbinger of the new world.

The nights he wasn't shaking from night terrors, he was tossing and turning at the thought of you. And he didn’t know what was worse. He couldn't escape you. The haunting image of you lingered in his mind even during sleep — your lips, your eyes, your skin, your voice, and that shared scar and your demise.

But at least, you'd given up on him by then. Your persistent efforts to reach out to Luke gradually dwindled into nothingness. Though you were still everywhere, a shadow that seemed to torment his every move, you no longer gave him even a fraction of your attention.

Gone were the days of you seeking him out, your footsteps no longer echoing in the halls of Camp Half-Blood in search of him. You refrained from asking for Chris's help, no longer burdening him with questions on Luke's whereabouts. The notes you once left behind were now relics of a time long past, their words fading with each passing day.

And as the full moon rose once more over the waters of the lake, you no longer waited by its shores.

Luke turned in bed, his mind restless as he tried to shake the image of you. He pulled the covers tighter around himself, seeking comfort in the warmth they provided, but the chill of unease still lingered in the air.

His gaze drifted across the row of beds, each a testament to the diverse personalities that inhabited the Hermes cabin. The floor was strewn with a chaotic array of sleeping bags, toys, and discarded clothing, while a collection of rocks adorned one corner near the closets, and drawings adorned the walls.

Despite the usual chaos that reigned during the day, the cabin now lay quiet and still. The children of Hermes, along with the unclaimed children and the ones of minor gods, had finally settled into the embrace of sleep. 

But amidst the calm, a sense of unease gnawed at Luke's consciousness. He couldn't shake the feeling that had settled over him after he noticed the empty bed and the slightly ajar door. 

Luke pushed back the covers and rose from his bed. His footsteps echoed softly as he made his way toward the empty bottom bunk, hoping not to wake anyone. The sight of an old penguin stuffed animal discarded at the foot of the bed made him edgy. His eyes trailed to the traces of blood splattered on the hardwood floor, stark against the dim light filtering through the cabin windows.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Luke picked up the toy, its soft white and black material now stained with crimson. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he made his way out of the cabin, the urgency of his steps echoing in the stillness of the night.

He knew all too well who the missing camper was – five-year-old Penelope, one of the newest arrivals to Camp Half-Blood and possibly one of the youngest campers. Found wandering alone in the woods near the camp hill just a week ago, she had been brought to safety by a group of fellow demigods on a quest. Luke couldn't shake the resemblance she bore to a younger Annabeth, with her wide eyes and insatiable thirst for knowledge. He wouldn't be surprised if Athena claimed her as her own one day–that is if he ever found her.

Luke's worry for Penelope weighed heavily on his mind, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest as he combed through every inch of camp. The traces of blood he discovered fueled his unease, each droplet a stark reminder of the dangers lurking just beyond the safety of the camp's borders.

In his search, Luke traversed familiar paths and hidden corners, his footsteps echoing in the quiet stillness of the night. He scoured the armour, the climbing wall, and the camp store.

Luke had known all about campers disappearing, whether it be on a quest or to escape and try to live a normal life with humans that never really lasted long enough as monsters would dwell within the shadows outside of camp. 

It was in the dim glow of the kitchen lights that Luke finally caught a glimpse of Penelope, perched on the counter in her pyjamas, her hair adorned with two loose pigtails. A sense of relief washed over him at the sight of her safe and sound, yet it was short-lived as he noticed she wasn't alone.

His hand hovered over the door, hesitating as he listened to the soft murmur of conversation from within. With a steady breath, Luke pushed the door open ever so slightly, peering through the crack to catch a glimpse of Penelope. And you.

You, who looked older than when you first met in the infirmary. There was an air of maturity about you, a gracefulness that hadn't been there before. Your features seemed more refined, your presence commanding attention in a way that spoke of inner strength and resilience. Luke couldn't help but notice how your beauty had blossomed, surpassing the standards of mere mortal allure. It was a beauty that seemed to defy classification, uniquely yours yet undeniably captivating.

Despite this, Luke sensed a shift in your demeanour—a resignation, perhaps, to the reality of his ignorance. You had lost any hope you once harboured for him. His guarded nature would forever keep you at arm's length. And while part of him knew that this was for the best, a small, almost imperceptible part of him couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret.

For in the crossroads of his heart, amidst the shadows that threatened to consume him, there lingered a faint glimmer of longing. The thought of being intertwined with someone who could offer solace in his darkest moments, who could bring light to the depths of his despair, held an undeniable appeal. And as much as he tried to deny it, the chance of you approaching him once more tugged at the fringes of his resolve, tempting him to let down his guard and allow you closer than he ever dared to imagine.

"So, you wanna tell me what you're doing up this late?" You approached Penelope with a gentle smile, a cookie in your hand as a peace offering. 

Your words hung in the air, gentle and coaxing, as you tried to draw Penelope out of her shell. Luke watched from the shadows, his gaze flickering between you and the young camper, a sense of admiration stirring at how you spoke to Penelope.

Penelope hesitated, her gaze shifting between the cookie in her hand and you. 

"You don't know?" You persisted, your voice a soft murmur that carried a hint of playfulness. You settled beside Penelope on the counter, your posture was relaxed as you leaned in closer to her. "Is it... a secret?" you whispered.

Luke noted the subtle change in your demeanour, the way you seemed to adapt effortlessly to Penelope's shy nature. It was a side of you he hadn't seen before, one that resonated deeply with him.

As Penelope nodded in response to your question, you continued, your tone gentle and reassuring. "Let me tell you a secret," you offered, holding up your pinky finger as a symbol of trust. "I am the best secret keeper in this camp. I pinky promise."

After a moment's hesitation, Penelope tentatively reached out, her tiny finger linking with yours in a hesitant pinky promise. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Penelope murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I got hurt."

"What?" You gasped in genuine concern, your eyes widening as you shifted your attention to the young camper. "Can I see?"

Penelope nodded silently, her arm outstretched towards you. Luke observed from his vantage point, his heart twisting with worry as he noted the faint hint of red near Penelope's elbow.

You took Penelope's arm into your hands gently, your touch tender and reassuring as you rolled up the sleeves of her pale pink pyjamas. Luke couldn't help but notice the familiarity of those pyjamas, a subtle reminder of Annabeth's kindness and resourcefulness in making Penelope feel at home.

"Oh, wow, that looks like it hurts," You remarked softly, your brows furrowing in sympathy as you retrieved a first aid kit from the nearby cabinets. "You're handling it very well," you praised Penelope, your tone gentle and encouraging. "So brave of you."

Penelope watched you attentively as you began to clean her wound, her small frame tense with discomfort. "I don't feel brave," she admitted quietly.

"No?" You glanced up at her, "why not?"

"I miss my mommy."

Her words were tinged with a sense of longing that struck a chord with both you and Luke.

Luke chewed on the inside of his cheek, his thoughts drifting to his own longing for his mother. Penelope's admission resonated with him deeply, reminding him of the ache that never truly faded, no matter how many years passed, no matter how deep he tried to bury it. 

It was a sentiment shared by every demigod at camp, a silent ache that echoed through the cabins and training grounds. Yet, it was a pain rarely spoken aloud as if verbalizing it would make it all too real, too unbearable.

The yearning for a parent, for someone to fill the void left by their absence, weighed heavily on each camper's shoulders. It was a burden they carried silently, masking their vulnerability with bravado and determination. But for Penelope, the longing was raw in its innocence.

At just five years old, she was too young to fully comprehend the extent of her emotions. She couldn't grasp the complexities of her situation, the world of gods and monsters that surrounded her. All she knew was the absence of a mother's embrace, the absence of a comforting presence to soothe her fears and wipe away her tears.

It was a pain she didn't deserve, a burden too heavy for such a young soul to bear. The gods, in their arrogance and indifference, seemed oblivious to the lives they had shattered, and the pain they had inflicted upon their own children.

"Yeah?" You responded gently, "How much do you miss her?"

"This much," Penelope replied, her small hands spreading wide.

"Wow! That's a lot," you remarked, a sombre note underlying your tone as you processed Penelope's words. After a beat of silence, you shook off the heaviness of the moment and mustered a smile for her. "There we go. All cleaned up," you announced cheerfully, pressing a bandaid onto her elbow.

Penelope's smile widened in response, a glimmer of gratitude shining in her eyes as she kicked her feet. In a quiet voice barely above a whisper, she murmured her thanks to you.

"So, you wanna tell me how you got hurt?"

"I don't know." This had been the most Luke had ever seen Penelope talk, and while her voice was still timid, the words slipping out hesitantly, she seemed to confide in you. "I woke up because my arm hurt."

"The cut was just there?" You asked, and when she nodded, you hummed sympathetically. "...I get those too, you know."

Penelope's eyes widened, "You do?"

"Yes," you affirmed with a soft chuckle. "A lot of people do. You get them from your soulmate. Did your mom ever tell you about soulmates?"

"Sometimes."

"Well, a long time ago, humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces," You explained.

"What?"

"I know, right? Super freaky. So freaky that Zeus decided to split them in half. So, now we have two arms, two legs, and one face."

"What happened to the other half?"

"That's our soulmate. Our other half. And Aphrodite gave us a gift to help us find our soulmate." The smile that had adorned your face slowly waned, "Every time you get hurt, your soulmate gets hurt too."

"Is that why you have a cut on your face?"

The question lingered, hanging in the air like a whispered secret. Luke held his breath, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for your response. But instead of answering, you reached out to Penelope, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips as you guided her off the counter.

"Let's get you back to your cabin."

Your words were gentle, a soft reassurance for Penelope's sake, but Luke could sense the undercurrent of sadness that ran beneath them. As you led Penelope away, Luke's heart ached in a way that felt so familiar yet foreign at the same time. It burned the same way it did when he returned from the quest when he hated the world and everyone in it, but this time, the only person he could find himself hating was himself.

He retreated from the door, clutching the stuffed animal in his hands. He felt a fleeting reminder of the times he would hide from the monsters with Thalia.

Luke's mind swirled with discordant emotions, each thought a whirlwind of uncertainty. He knew he didn't deserve your answer, didn't deserve the solace of your words. He had made it clear too many times to count that he never wanted a soulmate, never wanted you.

But despite his protests, despite the walls he had built around his heart, Luke couldn't deny the tug that pulled him to you, the hunger in his soul that refused to be ignored. It was a longing he couldn't shake, a yearning that whispered of a connection he dared not embrace. Knowing that keeping you away was the only way to protect you from the darkness that lurked within him was what kept him sane.

"Luke?"

The sound of his name tore Luke out of his thoughts like a violent gust of wind. He spun around, finding you standing on the porch to the kitchens, Penelope at your side. She held your hand, a small beacon of warmth and light in the dimness of the night. 

It seemed too perfect, too surreal, and Luke couldn't help but feel a pang of disbelief. Were you trying to kill him? It had been too long since the last time he spoke to you, let alone stood so close to you, and here you were, the epitome of what a demigod should be, even if you were still in the dreaded bright orange camp shirt.

"Hey," he managed to say.

You continued to descend the stairs, each step cautious and deliberate. "What- uh, what are you doing up?"

"I was actually looking for Penelope." Luke motioned to the girl hiding behind your legs. When he caught her eye, Penelope grinned and let go of your hand, darting over to Luke and jumping into his arms. He lifted her easily, a small smile tugging at his lips as he handed her the stuffed toy she had left behind. 

"Oh." You hummed, "I didn't know you're a Hermes kid?"

"I'm unclaimed," Penelope chimed.

"For now," Luke's voice was gentle as he held Penelope in his arms. "And what were you doing up?"

"I was looking for a bandaid. I got lost." Penelope's words were punctuated by a soft yawn, and she nestled her head against Luke's shoulder, her exhaustion evident in every movement.

You hesitated, your gaze shifting to meet Luke's. "I found her by the canoes... near the dock."

The silence that settled between you felt heavy, suffocating almost as if it threatened to engulf you both. Luke found himself wandering back to the memories of you waiting for him at the dock during the summer nights and the regret that weighed heavily on his heart for never approaching you. He remembered the countless times he stood among the trees, watching you from afar, paralyzed by his own insecurities and fears.

Were you waiting for him there tonight? 

No, you couldn't have.

Guilt gnawed at him, threatening to consume him whole. "Listen, I-"

"I'm gonna go." You cut him off abruptly, your voice carrying a hint of tension. "Counsellor duties and all. I've got cabin checks in the morning so... you know, I gotta print papers... and stuff..."

Luke frowned at your lame excuse. "It's midnight."

"It's never too early to start now." You huffed defensively. "Bye, Penelope."

"Bye," Penelope mumbled sleepily, her hand lazily waving in your direction as you walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the night and the trail leading to the Aphrodite cabin.

As they made their way back to the Hermes cabin, Luke held onto Penelope tightly, feeling the weight of her small body in his arms. The night air was cool against his skin, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of shame for the unease he noticed in you earlier. He wanted to say something, to bridge the gap that seemed to have formed between you, but the words remained trapped in his throat.

Once they returned to the warmth of their cabin, Luke moved with a careful grace, mindful not to disturb the sleeping campers around them. He gently placed Penelope back on her bed and tucked her in. But as he began to step away, her small hand shot out, wrapping around two of his fingers. Luke froze, eyes wide with surprise.

"Luke?" Penelope's voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence of the cabin like a knife.

"Yeah?" Luke's voice was equally quiet.

"I think your soulmate is really cool." 

Penelope's words hung in the air, a simple statement that carried more weight than he could have ever anticipated.

Seven hours later, the memory of your face lingered in Luke's mind like an unshakeable ghost. Tossing back and forth in his bed, he tried to rid himself of the image, but it clung to him like a shadow. Each time he closed his eyes, your face flashed before him, haunting his thoughts. Even when he turned away, the spectre of Kronos lurked in the depths of his subconscious, a reminder of the choice that still loomed over him.

As morning broke over Camp Half-Blood, Luke found himself seated at the breakfast table, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of his fellow campers. Annabeth's presence brought a brief distraction.

She slid into the seat in front of him during breakfast and gave him a strange look, slightly out of breath from the morning rush, a half-eaten apple in hand.

"Hey," she greeted him, her voice carrying a note of concern. Pausing to tie back her braids, she studied him intently. "Who you looking for?"

Luke's response came too quickly, "No one," he replied, his voice strained. Thankfully, Chris had left earlier because he was in charge of the climbing wall in the morning, he wasn't there to tell Annabeth that Luke had been looking for you. His eyes scanned the sea of faces in the dining hall, a futile attempt to catch sight of you amidst the crowd. He felt pathetic. "What's up with you?"

Annabeth raised her brows. "Archery? Together? Remember? Or did you forget?"

"No. I didn't forget."

She only stared at him, skeptical.

"What?" he asked, "why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Oh, I get it," Annabeth's smirk hinted at a newfound understanding, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the dining hall, as she shook her head and rested her chin on her hand. "How long are you planning to keep this up for?"

Luke frowned, confused.

"This entire act you have with... you know," She didn't need to say your name for him to catch on. "It's getting out of hand, no?"

"I..." Caught off guard by her directness, Luke hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Choosing to play dumb, he feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right." Annabeth's knowing look pierced through his facade. She was always too perceptive for her own good. Fixing him with a narrowed gaze, she gave him a playful kick under the table, the impact enough to draw a startled reaction from Luke. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she took another bite of her apple before teasing him further. "Well, Grover said you're killing yourself."

"What?" He blinked at her, taken aback, "I'm not killing myself. Grover's just being dramatic."

"I don't think so." She said, slowly, carefully forming her words. "I mean, if I had a soulmate..."

Luke's defences bristled at the mention of soulmates, a topic he preferred to avoid. "Is this all you wanted to talk about?" 

"I'm allowed to worry, "Annabeth reminded him, her words tinged with a gentle insistence. "Family, remember?"

The word 'family' carried weight, a reminder of their shared history and the bond they had forged over the years. It was a phrase Annabeth often employed to coax Luke out of his shell, to encourage him to confide in her. When they were younger, 'family' meant everything to Luke, thanks in no small part to Annabeth's influence.

"You don't need to worry," Luke assured her, though uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his resolve. "I know what I'm doing." But did he? Luke longed for the simplicity of a time before he met you when the idea of having a soulmate seemed like a distant fantasy. Now, every decision he made, every scar he bore, carried weight, knowing it could impact you in ways he couldn't comprehend.

"The least you can do is get to know her before she leaves."

Her words struck a chord within him, prompting Luke to cast a discreet glance around the dining hall, searching for you amidst the bustling crowd again.

"She's leaving?"

"Not forever, "Annabeth clarified with a chuckle, "Just on a quest. Search and rescue. Nothing fancy."

"...How do you know this?" he said after a moment.

"Chiron told me," Annabeth shrugged nonchalantly. "He also told me to tell you that the ceremony is tonight. I hope that doesn't kill you."

It did kill him a bit. At least, it felt like it did. Luke Castellan moved through camp with a sense of urgency, his strides purposeful yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. His fingers, calloused from years of wielding weapons, throbbed with a dull ache with the burn from the bow and arrow. 

Shoulders tense, skin prickling under the relentless glare of the sun, he scanned the bustling campgrounds.

The weight of his bow rested heavily on his shoulder, the familiar weight offering a semblance of comfort amidst the chaos. With practiced precision, he counted the arrows in his quiver, his movements fluid and sure. 

Then, he heard it—the sound that drew him like a siren's call. Your voice, lilting and laughter-filled, cut through the clamour of the camp, pulling him toward you like a magnet. There you stood, leaning against the doorway of the Hephaestus cabin, a clipboard clutched to your chest as you exchanged banter with Atticus, the skilled swordsmith whose craftsmanship had forged Luke's sword.

There was something different about you today, something delicate, more approachable than he had ever seen before. Last night, with Penelope, you had worn a similar expression—gentle, caring—but it was a side of you that Luke had never been privileged to witness. With him, you had always been guarded, reserved, as though afraid that he would cut or maim you.

As you scribbled something onto your clipboard, Luke found himself intrigued by the way your smile softened. It was a stark contrast to the confident facade you often wore, and for a moment, Luke felt a pang of guilt for pushing you away so soon.

Unbeknownst to you, you were drawing closer to Luke with each step, your path inexorably leading you toward him. Part of him craved to reach out, while another part hesitated, unsure of how to talk to you after all this time.

"Hey," Luke finally managed to utter as you drew near, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You paused, a hint of surprise flickering across your features as you registered his presence. "Hi?" Your response was tentative, laced with a hint of confusion. After a moment's hesitation, you glanced down at your clipboard, "I'm not changing my rank on your cabin. I know three is low, but I was being generous."

A ghost of a smile tugged at Luke's lips. He was all too familiar with the chaotic nature of Cabin Eleven, where overcrowding was the norm and taking turns on the sleeping bags was treated as a game. "No, no. I just..." He trailed off, suddenly realizing he hadn't thought through the purpose of seeking you out. "I think we need to talk."

The confusion in your expression mirrored his own, and for a moment, there was a palpable sense of uncertainty hanging between you. "Talk?" you echoed.

Luke nodded, his gaze meeting yours earnestly. "Yes."

"You want to talk...? To me?" 

"I hope it's not that bizzare."

He tried to smile for you, but it felt wrong. Luke couldn't shake the weight of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew all too well that he hadn't been the embodiment of an ideal soulmate. In his mind, there lingered a pervasive belief that you harboured nothing but hatred towards him, something that you made obvious with every interaction between you two.

He wondered if this was the way you felt during the days he avoided you. 

Luke had noticed the shift. There was a calculated recklessness to your actions, a deliberate disregard for your own well-being that bordered on self-destructive. You stubbed your toe on roots and table legs, tugged too hard at your hair, and scraped your knees. You started to pull your punches while sparring with Clarisse, just enough to ensure that he felt the sting of every blow. You never blocked a hit in the face, a twisted satisfaction in the knowledge that your pain mirrored his own. Together, you would limp into the infirmary, bloodied and bruised where you'd be grinning far too wide, barely offering an ounce of guilt when Luke held ice to his face.

You lowered the clipboard from your chest, letting it rest against your side as you faced Luke. The warm rays of the sun filtered through the dense foliage above, casting dappled shadows that danced across your features and forced you to squint against the brightness. The noise of children's laughter and the sound of feet pounding against the earth filled the air.

Your voice cut through the noise, "You've made it pretty clear that you want nothing to do with me, Luke," you began, your words carrying the weight of unspoken hurt. "You can't blame me for being surprised."

As you began to walk toward the next cabin, Luke fell into step beside you, "Can you just give me a chance—" 

"I think you're too late for that."

"I know, I just—" Luke's words faltered, his thoughts tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to articulate his feelings.

"I have nothing to say to you," you declared abruptly, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Luke skidded to a stop just in time, his gaze meeting yours as you regarded him with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Seriously. I understand, okay? Did I come on too strong? Maybe. Yeah, I'll admit that" you acknowledged, your expression softening slightly. "Maybe coming to you hours after your shit quest was stupid, but I gave you space when you asked—"

"I just wanted to wish you luck on your quest," Luke interrupted, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of remorse.

With a quiet "Oh," you stepped back, your eyes momentarily averting his gaze. Were you embarrassed? Were you disappointed? Did you want to fight? 

"Sorry," you mumbled, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Thanks. I'm, uh, I'm seeing the Oracle after this. So... not technically a quest yet."

"It's your first one, right?" Luke's voice softened, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

"If you're worried about getting another scar, don't worry, I doubt it's anything dangerous," you reassured him, though your words held a hint of hesitation. There was a fleeting moment where your gaze lingered on him as if expecting a sudden change in his demeanour, but Luke remained still, his expression unreadable. "I just need to find Eros and go from there."

"Eros?" Luke's pace slowed, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he raised his brows in interest. Yet beneath the surface, a seed of annoyance sprouted, tendrils of jealousy winding their way through his thoughts. Your quest sounded far more intriguing than his own, and a bitter brew of envy churned in the depths of his stomach. Despite his inner turmoil, he attempted to play it off with a forced chuckle. "Has Cupid gone missing?"

"Apparently," you muttered bitterly under your breath, the resentment palpable in your tone. Luke sensed the edge to your words, though he pretended not to notice.

You sighed, "Is this conversation going anywhere? I really need to finish these cabin checks. I'm busy enough as it is."

Your words held an unspoken plea for him to leave, and though Luke understood, a pang of disappointment nagged at him. He couldn't entirely blame you; after all, he'd been an ass for months.

Both of you hesitated just outside the door to cabin eight, and Luke could feel your eyes on him. When you began to step away, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. You froze, eyes wide with surprise.

“I also wanted to thank you,” He said, words rushing off his tongue.

“For what?” you asked.

“For last night.” He wasn't sure why he brought it up, why he felt like he needed you to know. "With Penelope."

"It was nothing," you said, voice barely audible. "We gotta look out for each other, right?"

Then, you left, you hurried up the short staircase to the cabin door, barely sparing him a glance before knocking. From his place, Luke could hear someone welcoming you into Artemis's cabin. He watched you until the door was shut behind you, vanishing you from his sight.

As the ceremony approached, the hues of twilight painted Camp Half-Blood in a golden glow, a serene yet foreboding atmosphere enveloping the surroundings. Luke's unease mounted with the setting sun, casting stretched-out shadows that seemed to carry something unnoticed. He couldn't shake the image of the figure from his nightmares, its monstrous visage haunting his thoughts with each passing moment. Yet, amidst the creeping darkness, there was an allure to the unknown, a temptation that beckoned him; its words, its promise of seeing the truth.

His gaze remained fixed on the white marble archway, half-expecting the nightmare to materialize at any moment, its twisted form emerging from the shadows with outstretched fingers. However, it was you who appeared, ascending the steps with graceful determination. Your presence seemed to dispel the shadows, bathing the surroundings in a radiant glow that eclipsed the fears that had once gripped Luke's heart. You were a blinding vice.

"Didn't think I'd see you here."

A sudden jab to his side sent him recoiling, a sharp pain shooting through his ribs. Luke winced, his gaze flickering to you as you flinched, subtly reaching for your own side. Quickly diverting his attention, he focused on the girl who had spoken.

Clarisse arched a brow at Luke, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Jumpy."

"Give him a break," Chris interjected, joining Luke's side and draping an arm over his shoulder. "Luke had a rough night, he lost a kid."

"Is that so?" Clarisse's grin widened. "And Chiron doesn't know? I'm assuming he doesn't otherwise, he wouldn't have picked you for this."

Luke scoffed and crossed his arms, "I'm the best swordsman at camp."

Clarisse's sarcasm was palpable. "Oh, I don't doubt it. The most humble, too," she retorted, unfazed by his glare. "But let's face it, a search and rescue isn't exaclty your thing anymore. You're more of an action kind of guy. You live off the glory of victory. Chiron knows that."

She was right, Chiron did know that. Which was why he rarely requested Luke to stand in unless there was a catch. Then, the flames in the torches flickered to life, and silence enveloped the candidates. Each demigod chosen by Chiron swiftly took their place, standing tall and resolute by a marble pillar, eager to showcase themselves as the prime choice for the quest. Anything for Kleos. Anything for glory.

Chiron nodded, his gesture sharp and decisive, as he placed a firm hand on your shoulder before addressing the assembly. 

"The Oracle has confirmed that this quest is a search and rescue," he stated, casting a brief, confident glance in your direction. "One where you will use all your best efforts to bring Eros back to the safety of Mount Olympus and restore the lost balance. I'm sure you know where to find him." His gaze then shifted to the rest of the candidates. "Here, I have selected some of our most compelling candidates from which you will choose one to join you on your quest, ensuring your success. Annabeth Chase, Atticus Brang, Chris Rodrigues, Clarisse La-"

As Chiron listed the candidates, you carefully evaluated your options, your eyes calculating. In the dim torchlight, Luke could just discern the thin line etched across your face, stretching from the end of your brow to your-

"I choose Luke."

The ensuing silence felt like something they could all drown in, leaving everyone stunned. Even Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes as she spotted Luke's bewilderment. Surely, he must have misheard. There couldn't possibly be any way you had chosen him, could there?

Chiron turned to you, his tone measured. "Are you sure?"

You never shifted your gaze from Luke, who refused to meet your eyes as he stared fixedly at the pillar across from him. Yet, the clenching of his jaw, whether from anger or annoyance or something else, was enough to elicit a satisfied smile from you.

"I'm sure," you affirmed.

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[targaryen-dynasty]

THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE.

Antichrist!Aemond Targaryen x female Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; dub con, p in v, fingering (with gloves 😮‍💨), dacryphilia, choking, degrading, unprotected sex, power imbalance, female reader

WORDS: 4.7 K

NOTES: Yes, this is based on American Horror Story Apocalypse. Michael Langdon is just so *phew* that I had to adapt it to Aemond. This is so self indulgent, I'm not even sorry. @kaelabear you're getting the special taglist. @arcielee thank you for beta reading this! <3

You have lost track of how many days, months, or even years have passed since your arrival in Outpost 3, and gods, you’d give it all right away to be back in one of the holding cells the government had put you in around the time the bombs rained down over King’s Landing. 

Even though you received the status as a purple upon your arrival, therefore placing you to the upper-class elites specifically selected for survival, you couldn’t be worse off. At least there you’ve been allowed to do your own thing – as far as the confines allowed you to. 

The nutritional cubes they serve you are rationed, with Ms. Misery announcing they’ll have to ration them even further in the next days, and on top of being hungry and bored, you haven’t had a good fuck in quite the while. 

Sexual contact, or any kind of copulation, is strictly forbidden, and you’ve witnessed firsthand what it means to break Miserys’ rules – not that you’d make any moves on the other residents occupying the former exclusive boys school anyways. 

It’s only been you and your hand, sometimes even your pillow, from the very beginning on until now, and truth be told? You’re sick of it. 

At some point you’ve stopped getting yourself off, only because your body longed for physical contact, for someone else’s body on your own. 

And what certainly doesn’t help with your misery is the mysterious man that arrived just a few days ago. 

When he introduced himself as Targaryen, you knew his arrival was something that came partnered with power. As much as you would have liked to focus on his speech to campaign himself, you found it was far too difficult to care about humanity being on the brink of failure when the man telling you about it was so, so damn easy on the eyes.

Just the sight of his sharp features, regardless of a part of them being concealed by a black eyepatch, has been enough to make your mouth water. And when your eyes traveled lower, taking in the way his black slacks all but hugged his toned thighs, all was lost for you. 

You’ve been grateful that Laenor pounced on him to be interviewed first, wanting to see if he'd be worthy enough to be relocated to the so-called sanctuary, because you certainly would have jumped Targaryens’ bones right then and there. 

His alluring aura, the dominance radiating off of him – it all are factors that drive your aching body to insanity. and the nights that followed you found your relief more than once with the image of him flashing right before your eyes. 

Some time has passed in which you’ve barely seen him around, only hearing of him through the stories of the other residents that have been interviewed by him; now it’s your turn to warm the large chair standing in front of the imposing Mahogany desk. 

It’s the door behind you sliding open that lets your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and you fidget with your fingers to stop yourself from turning around. You don’t want to be caught staring in the first few seconds already. 

You hear your name fall past his lips so smoothly it sends a shiver down your spine. You give in to the temptation and watch him step inside with an air of mellow gratification, prowling around the desk until he eventually sits down in the empty seat across from you.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he purrs, a glint of mischief dancing in his eye. 

There comes no reply from you, instead you continue to fumble with your fingers, looking at what you assume to be your file splayed out on the desk in front of him. 

It’s the dismissive hum that rumbles in his chest that finally piques your interest, and when your gaze settles on him again, you spot him touch his chin thoughtfully as his eye skimps over the pages, seeming as if he’s reading it for the first time. 

The red gloves he wears stand in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless rest of his outfit, your gaze drawn to them like a moth to a flame. He has worn them upon his arrival already; the smooth leather shining in the dim light of the candles makes your mind wander to more indecent things. 

He tilts his head up again to meet your gaze, his smooth and calming voice ringing out. “Your genetic profile would appear to be favorable, so you can say that this interview is solely conducted as a… precaution.” Though it’s meant to be reassuring, the deliberate pause he makes doesn’t seem convincing. 

His words make you frown. “What for?” you ask, and you curse yourself for how blunt and bold your voice sounds. “Aren’t you in need of relocating the last few people that pass on good genes, now that this is the last outpost standing?” 

The genuine laugh he offers you prompts you to lean back in your seat, juxtaposing the way he leans forwards in his. Something in the arrogance that radiates off of him, and the smug smirk he has on his lips, feeds your irritation. 

“Doesn’t seem like you can afford to be picky,” you snap back at him. 

He licks his lips, and although it’s not longer than a second, your mind immediately drifts off to think about how it would feel between your legs, how he would feel between them. You try to be subtle as you shift in your seat, barely moving enough to soothe the aching that blooms at the apex of them. 

“We’re making the selections as carefully as possible,” he counters. The paper of your file is pinched between his index and thumb, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers. “We need to ensure the survival of humanity, and I’m sure you understand that we have to look for a certain level of ambition in the people we choose.”

Even though his explanation is vague, and doesn’t make much sense to you, it is strangely appealing. The word ambition is such a broad term that could mean anything from career-minded to cutthroat, yet you still have to figure out exactly what he means. 

The tension grows thicker and thicker with each passing second of silence, and you feel a warm sensation spreading inside of you from his intense gaze – which is perhaps also due to the hint of desire that gleams in his eye as he regards you. 

You try your best to ignore the way your heart races, wanting to diminish the warmth inside of you. But to no avail. 

When he rises from his seat, your heart drops into your stomach again, and your eyes grow wide with curiosity and intrigue. 

It’s a brief flicker of your eyes down his body that has you squeezing your thighs together, far too distracted by how tall he is than to notice the smug smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips. 

“Would you say that you’ve… settled here?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of something you find difficult to decipher.  

He slowly stalks around the desk, the tips of his leather-clad fingers smoothly gliding over the dark wood. His eye lingers on your face, taking you in and assessing your reaction. His expression holds the same edge of darkness his voice does, though he isn’t hiding it as effectively as he thinks he is this time. 

Your eyes never leave his frame when he comes to stand next to you, leaning back against the desk. He’s gripping the edge of it, and even in the dim light of the candles, you notice that it’s rather tightly, almost as if he’s suppressing the urge to touch you. 

“Well, I suppose I’ve managed to adjust,” you reply. 

For a brief moment, neither of you says anything. He just stares at you with this cold precision – until you catch his eye flitting lower, trailing over your form. 

The purple gown you wear isn’t revealing at all, not that Ms. Misery would allow you to wear anything of that sort anyways. The neckline is squared with raised yet off-the-shoulder structured shoulders that leave little to the imagination – but only if you’ve been touch deprived for long enough.

And, judging by the way his jaw clenches as his eye meets yours again, you can tell it’s also been a while for him. 

The thought of it makes your blood run hot, the warmth now spreading to your cheeks. Your gaze falls to your lap, watching your fingers fumble with each other while you feel his bore into your frame. 

There’s a hum rumbling in his chest once again, but this time it sounds more like a purr, as if he finds satisfaction in your nervousness. “Are you normally this flustered in front of men… or is it just me?”

A sudden rush of excitement and embarrassment floods your veins as your mind processes his words; your head snaps back up to look at him, and you’re greeted by a teasing grin. 

“I’m not flustered,” you reply, your voice only wavering slightly, yet you know that it’s clear to him that you’re not being very honest. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you. 

He tsks, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I mean, I can see you,” he says, gesturing to you with his hand. “You’re licking your lips, you can’t meet my eyes for more than a few seconds, your cheeks are flushed – it’s clear your body yearns to be touched…” he trails off, smirking to himself as he briefly glances to the ground. “... by me.”

His statement catches you off-guard. A quick exhale from your nose leaves you feeling winded with the sensations of butterflies wreaking havoc within your body. 

The silence between you lingers, heavy and thick as you ponder over his words, and you decide to go all in. You glance at him sideways, before speaking. “Is that so?”

His eye darkens at your coy demeanor, and with the corners of his quirking up into a sly smirk, he reveals just a glimpse of the devil that lurks beneath the angelic exterior. “Oh, it is,” he replies with a mocking tone. “I know you’re getting off to the thoughts of me at night, sweet thing. And even right now, you’re dripping for me. It’s almost pathetic.”

He almost seems relieved as he finally reaches to trace a gentle line over your exposed shoulder, starting at the crook of your neck. His light touch and the coldness of his gloves cause you to shiver involuntarily, and makes your breathing heavy. 

As if he’s searching for something within yours, his eye narrows, and your mind races with the possibility of what such a look might signify. 

“Look at you,” he purrs, licking his pouty lips. “You’re sitting here, just waiting for me to take things a step further – all the while I could smell that sweet pussy of yours ever since I’ve stepped into the room.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words, making it difficult to swallow, and you feel yourself clench around nothing; the urge to squirm in your seat is nearly overwhelming. 

“That sweet scent of yours…” he trails off. Mesmerized by his words and confidence, you almost flinch when he pushes himself off the desk, slowly kneeling down to be on a level with you, hovering close to you like a predator pretending to pounce. 

Your breath is heavy, and with your body still facing the desk, you’re forced to turn your head to the side to meet his gaze. There are mere inches between your faces now, and you feel his minty breath fan over your lips, swollen from how often you've licked them at this point. 

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, and heat follows where the cold leather of his gloves ghosted over your skin. “So desperate to be touched… to be filled,” he hums. While embarrassment blossoms inside of you, there’s no amusement laced within his silky voice. It’s as if he’s just stating facts. “Or am I mistaken?” Your name topples past his lips with so much ease, it makes you imagine how it would sound moaned by him.

Your head begins to swim. His scent, his domineering aura, the warmth emanating off of him – it’s all too much and not enough. 

Meekly shaking your head, the ‘no’ you reply comes out not louder than a whisper. 

He takes in a quick breath of air, relishing in his victory. The way you submit to him, to his power and dominance, feeds something within him; a hunger that’s been growing more and more demanding from the moment he stepped into the room with you. 

“Good girl,” he purrs, slowly rising to his full height, stretching his fingers as he keeps his eye locked on you. A flush spreads over your cheeks at his praise, the subconscious urge to make him proud sending a shiver of excitement through your veins, feeding right into your desire to please him. 

He’s standing again, letting his eye drift over your sitting frame for a moment too long, trailing down your neck, over the curves of your breasts, and settling in your lap. A gloved hand comes forward to pinch the skirts of your gown between his fingers, an almost disgusted look on his features. 

“Take it off.”

“W-What?” 

“W-w-what?” he mocks, the scoff he releases filling you with shame. “Take it off,” he repeats. “Or else I will take it off of you, and that won’t be any more pleasant.”

The thought of him undressing you seems tempting. A small part of you wants to protest, to say something along the lines of ‘you can’t just demand something like this’ but the other part craves this. It feels as if it’s quintessential for your body to survive, not able to go one day longer without being touched at all. 

Rising to your feet, you smooth out the skirts of your dress before craning your neck to look up at him. He’s towering over you, hardly stepping back far enough to create any space for you to undress. 

Having always been a bit of a pain to put on, getting out of the dress was even worse. The tight fit and squared neckline leaves you with very limited mobility, meaning you’re always relying on a servant to help you get out of it. And facing these difficulties, the thought of removing it all by yourself, especially in front of him, seems almost sacrilegious. 

A thought pops into your mind, and your body is quick enough to get through with it before you can even think about it properly. 

“Care to help me?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. Before he can refuse, you brush your hair over one shoulder and turn around, presenting him with your back and the tightly laced corset. 

Much to your surprise, he doesn’t refuse, and you say nothing as his fingers find the lacing of your corset, gloves brushing your skin as he slowly undos the laces. 

It’s a slow process, one that builds anticipation within you, and has you squeezing your thighs together yet again. 

His caresses are light and careful at first, but they grow increasingly firm and forceful. Each tug and pull draws you closer to him, and only when you hear the same dismissive hum rumbling in his chest do you dare to glimpse at him from over your shoulder, seeing him staring at your back with his jaw set with a new purpose. 

The fabric is still pinched between his fingers when they suddenly change course, gripping the purple fabric around the lace with a bit more force than necessary. He rips open the corset in a single, harsh motion in a clear display of his impatience, the torn fabric hitting the ground with a thud, and your gown quickly follows suit. 

For a moment, you feel relief at being freed from its confines. But it’s fleeting, your skin immediately prickling as you become aware of how much of your body is exposed to him now. 

It’s weird to think that this thin layer of modesty has been enough to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, and now it’s peeled away with you knowing he’s gazing at you as if he’s been served his first meal in months. 

Easing your trembling legs, you hold onto the desk for support. It feels like an eternity as you crouch forward slightly to steady your uneven breathing, the moment only breaking as he advances towards you, his body leaning against yours and pressing you up against the desk. It’s the only thing keeping you upright, and the moment you feel his hot breath caress your neck, your legs feel like they are about to give in. 

His thigh slips between yours, but you can’t feel his hands on your body, assuming he’s clasped them behind his back or kept them at his sides. You can tell that his chest isn’t the only firm thing that presses against your body, his cock rock hard and all but straining against your lower back, clearly finding as much pleasure in the situation as you do.

His proximity is all you’ve thought of for the past days, yet it’s not enough. You need his hands, him, to feel thoroughly satisfied. The urge to whine scratches in your throat, but you manage to swallow it at the last moment. 

“Beg for me to touch you,” he drawls, voice laced with a mixture of excitement and hunger. 

Exhaling a strained breath, you close your eyes. “P-Please,” you whimper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Please… touch me. It’s been so long.”

“Hm.” You hear it loud and clear, the amusement, the satisfaction, causing your skin to heat up. “That’s all you’ve got?”

You tip your head back in frustration, meeting with his shoulder, a loud huff slipping past your lips. But you’re so close to getting what you want, there’s no way you’re giving up already. 

“Please, please touch me… Mr. Targaryen.” His name is spoken with a bit of hesitation. “I-I- please, fuck, need it so, so bad. Please.” That you’re not stomping your feet on the ground like an insolent child is everything, knowing it would push your chance for relief further away. 

But it seems to do the trick, because one gloved hand settles on your hip without him saying anything, while the other clasps around the outside of your thigh, his thumb brushing smooth patterns over your hot skin. 

He drags his nose along the side of your face, his breath tickling your skin, and you slightly turn your head to lean into it. “Where else do you want me to touch, mh?”

Feeling him on every inch of your body has you far too aroused to be frustrated by his on-going teasing and stalling. “Right…” you pant, peeling his hand from your hip to bring it down between your legs, “... here.”

A quiet whine slips past your lips as his fingers make contact with your sensitive clit, the cold leather of his gloves against your hot skin striking you as a welcome surprise and sending a shiver down your spine. It feels foreign, but nice nevertheless.  

You’ve fully anticipated him to pull back again, to leave you high and dry, but he surprises you again, when he drags his fingers through your swollen folds. 

“Right here, mh?” he purrs into your ear with a husky voice. 

It’s a grazing touch that alone is enough to make your mind hazy, merely humming in return. 

He’s not doing more than rubbing your clit and brushing his digits through your folds, but you’re wet enough already for it to be audible. The squelching sounds coming from between your legs are embarrassing, clearly highlighting your desperation for him, and it only gets worse when he slips a finger inside of you. 

Taking in a sharp breath, you hold onto the desk again. “God, fuck,” you whine. 

His finger is thick enough to be accompanied with a slight burning stretch, intensifying the moment he adds another. You can’t resist the urge to grind against his hand, the base of it applying just enough pressure to your clit to numb any discomfort. 

“You like that, mh?” he rasps. “So fucking wet and desperate for my fingers, dripping all over my glove.”

A string of whiny yesses leaves your lips as the pace of his fingers increases, making it incredibly difficult for your hips to maintain the rhythm. 

Heavy breaths and pants fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on and bringing you closer to the sweet relief you’ve craved for so long. He seems to sense your impending orgasm, and works you just a moment longer, before he withdraws his fingers from you, making sure the loss would make it even worse. 

But there’s no time to whine. 

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he teases, acting as if he’s completely oblivious to the torture he puts you through, and brings his gloved hand up to your face. 

The red leather is covered in your arousal, sticky and glistening even in the dim light. As he spreads the two fingers, a few strings of it connect the leather, and you bite your bottom lip, knowing all too well what might follow. 

“Open your mouth, pet,” he commands in a stern voice. “Clean up your mess.” 

And you comply, parting your lips and eagerly embracing him pushing them inside. Your tongue swirls around the digits, the leather tasting and feeling completely different on your tongue. 

You hardly notice that his other hand has left your thigh, and even less that he’s undoing the zipper of his slacks, pulling out his hard cock. Only when you feel the pressure against your entrance do your eyes widen, and you whine around his fingers as he pushes inside. 

Even though you are stretched from his digits, it can not compare to his cock. 

He’s filling you to the brim in one, swift thrust, and with you being gagged by his gloved fingers, you can’t do more than mewl and moan. “Fuck, tight cunt taking my cock, hm? That’s it, such a good, little pet.”

Not giving you the chance to adjust to his size, he sets up a reckless pace from the very start, his impatience running thin with the way your tightness embraces him. He fucks you as if it’s a one time thing, as if you won’t make the cut, but something inside of you tells you this is merely the beginning. 

Saliva trickles down your chin as his cock drives deeper and deeper, forcing moan after moan past your lips and his gloved fingers. It’s the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his strained grunts and your muffled whines filling the room, and if Ms. Misery were to find out, you would be tortured or killed even before the next day arrived. 

Maybe it’s the risk of being caught that drives him to his next step, but he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, gloved hand coming down to rest around your throat instead. He applies just a bit of pressure, merely meaning to hold you upright and steady to make it easier for him to use you to his liking.

You scramble for hold, sweaty palms planted flatly on the wooden surface in front of you, supporting yourself as the man behind you all but fucked every coherent thought out of your brain. 

“Look at you,” he grunts, pounding into your needy cunt. The tip of his cock brushes your sweet spot, pushing high enough to knock the air out of your lungs and make you lose yourself. “All you’ve been thinking about was my cock. So desperate to be fucked by me, huh?”

You are so full with him, his scent, his warmth, everything, that breathy whines and yesses are the only things slipping past your lips. 

He drags his nose along the side of your face, clearly relishing in the way he’s fucked you dumb with so little effort already, and you almost feel yourself come on spot the moment he presses his lips to your earlobe. 

Pushing his hips all the way into yours, he stills them for a moment, bringing up a gloved hand to spit on his fingers and before dragging them harshly over your sensitive clit, and putting you straight into a frenzy. 

The tears that were brimming in your eyes now spill and run down your flushed cheeks, hitting the desk he has you hunched over. 

“No need to cry, pet,” the man behind you drawls, a satisfaction weaved in his husky voice. “You wanted this, didn't you? Wanted my cock to fuck you stupid? Or do you want me to stop?”

Your blank mind barely processes his words, but just hearing the word stop has you finding your voice again. “N-no,” you whine, arching your back and pressing your ass back against him. “Don’t-don’t stop, Sir. ‘M so, so close.”

“Close, mh? Then fucking come for me.”

With his hand now applying a good bit of pressure to your throat and his fingers strumming your clit in a reckless pattern, you feel yourself getting lightheaded as your release hits you suddenly. 

His strained groans are hushed against your neck as you spasm around him, sucking him in hungrily. He works you through it, fucking you as you quiver and shake. Grinding against him, you ride your high out in rhythm with his thrusts, gasping each time his cock pistones inside of you. 

His hips falter slightly for a moment, caught off guard by how tightly your walls are squeezing him, but he regains his composure and sets up a brutal pace again. You’re swollen and raw by now, but he doesn't stop. 

“That’s it, fuck, I’m gonna get this pathetic cunt stuffed with my cum,” he grunts, pulling his hand from your clit to plant it on your hip. 

Each rut of his hips makes your eyes journey to the ceiling, the tears on your cheeks now dry. There are hiccuped breaths spilling from your mouth, and you can’t do more than to hold onto the desk, bracing yourself for his relentless pounding. 

With a stutter of his hips and a raspy groan escaping his throat, his cock eventually spills deep inside of you, coating your walls. He fucks it into you with deliberately slow thrusts, the last spurts of his warm release filling you to the brim.

A strained groan is audible as he pulls out, tucking himself back in his slacks, and assumes the cold demeanor he’s had before. The only courtesy he grants you is picking up your dress and underwear he’s torn off you before, holding it out for you to take. 

You get the cue, and dress yourself on trembling legs. The blonde watches curiously, leaning back against the desk again. The red gloves now lay on the desk, and you catch a glimpse of his long, ring-clad fingers. 

With flushed cheeks, you briefly look at the ground before presenting him your back again. “Do you mind?” 

He nods and steps towards you, silently lacing up your corset, and whenever his skin brushes yours, a shiver runs down your spine. His skin is soft, smooth even, and the warmth emanating from them is far more pleasant than the cold leather.

But the moment is fleeting as he quickly moves to sit down behind his desk again, a new file already pinched between his fingers. You smoothen out the skirt of your dress, merely bowing your head once, and make a beeline for the door. 

It’s his voice ringing out that stops you in your tracks, though you don’t dare to turn around. 

“I expect you to come back for your second interview tomorrow. See it as an opportunity for me to gauge whether or not you truly have the right… ambition.”

“Thank you, Mr. Targaryen,” you mumble in return, a strange sense of satisfaction and anticipation already coursing through your veins. 

Hearing your name once again, you turn your head to look at him. “There’s no need to be formal when it’s just us. You can call me Aemond.”

Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @connorsui @valeskafics

[kiwi-on-ice]

we need ashe smut w fem reader if u can🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Ashe x fem!reader

Summary: As the new waitress at Panorama Diner, you quickly meet the infamous Deadlock Gang, while also gaining the interest of their ruthless leader.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+ smut, dom!ashe, no use of y/n, lots of flirting, fingering, strap ons, spanking, slight overstim

Notes: Thank you for requesting my fav fav fav character anon! God i love Ashe and I love writing her. Also phew this is the longest fanfic i've wrote so far, hope it was worth the wait!

Having recently moved, there was one resounding fact you’ve learnt from practically everyone you’ve met so far; don’t mess with the deadlock gang.

Getting a job as a waitress along route 66, you’d been told by neighbors, new friends, even fellow colleagues to watch your back. That the deadlock gang were dangerous, unpredictable, undefeatable. And as you glance at the wanted posters that adorn the diner wall, your eyes are drawn to the leader, her mascara running down her cheeks. But its her expression that really strikes you, how severe and intense her gaze is. Reading the warning ‘Dead or Alive, Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe, $65,000,000 reward’, it really dawns on you how threatening she seems. Your finger traces the edge of the slightly ripped material, not being able to identify why exactly you can’t rip your gaze away.

Not being able to idle for long, you tear yourself away and get back to serving food and drinks, getting used to the flow of the diner and its patrons. It’s almost relaxing, most customers being pretty polite and calm as you work. You fall into a routine, especially since you have a specific uniform to wear. The diner’s management thought it would be good to have almost a 1950s theme, meaning you and the other waitresses were given blue stereotypical dresses to wear, complete with a small white apron to go around the waist. Yours was a little too tight, not that you minded. It flattered your figure quite nicely, even gaining you a few compliments.

It was quite a slow day as you stood behind the counter, in your own world as your fingers tap rhythmically on the marble. Light streamed through the glass windows, brightening the fairly empty diner as you daydream passively. Although the other waitress on staff seemingly drops a cup on the counter, causing you to turn at the noise. She seems...flustered, just as the bell rings to signal the door has opened. Following her nervous gaze, your breath catches. The deadlock gang, well only three of them, but the leader you’d recognise anywhere from how often you find yourself gazing at her wanted poster. Your colleague quickly busies herself with some coffee that you’re sure hasn’t been ordered, leaving you to seat them. You breathe slowly as you walk towards the new patrons.

Ashe seems a little frustrated, snapping at who you assume is her lieutenant as they wait to be seated, her rifle idly resting over her shoulder. She turns to look at whichever waitress will probably annoy her today, and then she sees you. Immediately her demeanour changes, looking you up and down as the furrow of her brow dissipates.

“Welcome to Panorama Diner, table for three?” you say softly, a polite smile etched on your features.

“Yeah, thanks. Preferably by one of those windows.” The leader replies, her red eyes not moving from you as you lead them to their table. Placing their menus down, you smile and leave them to decide. Releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you catch the other waitress glancing at you slightly apologetically. But you don’t particularly feel that threatened or scared…but you’ve been wrong before.

“Ready to order?” you ask with your notebook out, once again putting on the customer service smile.

“Three coffees, black.” Ashe says, before looking you up and down again. “That a uniform? Or d’you just like to dress like that?”

“It’s a uniform, management are going for a 1950s theme.” You reply with a soft laugh, which Ashe seems to delight in.

“Suits ya dollface, can see why they suggested it.” She says smoothly, causing heat to unexpectedly rise to your cheeks.

“I’ll grab your drinks.” You say quickly, turning and hoping she didn’t catch how flustered you looked. You reprimand yourself as you put the coffee on, why on earth were you affected by a simple compliment? You get compliments all the time…and especially why were you affected by the compliment of a criminal gang leader? You try and shake those thoughts from your mind as you pour their drinks, placing them on the tray and carrying them.

“Here you are, can I get you guys anything else?” you ask as you place their mugs in front of them. The two men shake their head dismissively, but Ashe hums softly.

“Hm…any recommendations?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Well a lot of the waitresses here recommend the apple pie.”

“But not you?” she asks, her eyebrow quirked.

“To be honest I hate apple pie.”

This dry response cause the gang leader to laugh, actually laugh, causing the two men to stare for a moment, bewildered. “That right? Appreciate the honesty there sweetcheeks, what would you recommend?”

You take a moment to think. “The French toast is lovely, and we also have a few cakes on stand that the staff made. Chocolate and red velvet.”

“Well I think red velvet would be just sweet enough, thanks doll.” Ashe replies with a small smirk, her red lipstick illuminating as the suns rays pierce through the glass panes. You nod and quickly go to get her a slice, a little short of breath from her intense gaze. You really need to stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl, you reprimand yourself. Coming back and serving her the cake slice, she thanks you, and that delicious accent of hers has you fidgeting as you turn and serve another table.

You try and continue your shift as normal, although her occasional glances at you prove difficult to ignore. Still you manage to keep your composure until one of her lieutenants pipes up.

“Hey lady, can we get the check?” he says loudly, snapping his fingers a little condesendingly, and as you hurry to the table, you see Ashe glare daggers at him.

“Don’t snap your damn fingers at her, she ain’t a fuckin’ dog.” Ashe seethes at him, which causes him to shrink a little and nod.

“Cash or card?” you ask, before Ashe pulls out a wad of cash from her pocket. Counting how much they owe, she places it on the table. You collect it as they stand to leave, but before they do Ashe stands to her full height and steps in front of you.

“Your tip, and an apology for my lackey’s rudeness.” She says, handing you a wad of cash. Your eyes must betray your shock at how much she’s giving you, as you shakily take it and start thanking her profusely.

“Don’t mention it dollface, didn’t catch your name.” You tell her, and she hums and smirks at you. “Pretty name for a pretty girl, guess I’ll be comin’ in here more often.”

With that, she tips her cowboy hat which makes you giggle softly before leaving. You watch as they step outside, mounting their motorbikes. You glance down to check your tip, counting the money in amazement. She’d tipped you 200 dollars, at least that’ll go a long way to paying this weeks rent.

Making good on her statement, two days later the gang are back. This time it’s Ashe and three members of her gang, alongside two omincs. One looked smaller, with a hood and a sniper rifle, but the other was huge, his hulking frame contrasting the cute little bowler hat that lay askew on his head. Even though a waiter was on hand, you almost sprinted to be the one who served them.

“Welcome back to Panorama Diner, table for…five?” you ask as you count them, and Ashe nods. They all seem a little dishelved, a few cuts and scrapes present on the human members which causes you to wonder where they’d been or what trouble they’d caused. You lead them to a table, connecting two so the bigger omnic could fit more comfortably, which seems to please Ashe greatly.

“Wasn’t sure ya’ll accepted omnics, there are a lot of establishments who sure as hell don’t.” Ashe remarks, causing you to shake your head.

“Of course we do, we don’t discriminate.” You say with a smile, before glancing at the bigger omnic. “Love the hat.”

He gives a nod and a little thumbs up, as Ashe continues. “His name’s B.O.B, he ain’t a talker.”

You nod, flipping your notebook out. Two coffees and a milkshake, to which Ashe raises her eyebrow at the dark-skinned woman clutching a laptop to her chest.

“Seriously Frankie?”

“What? You said it was a celebration.”

You smile a little. “So two coffees and a milkshake, got it.”

Leaving them to it, you go to prepare their orders. You can’t deny that you’ve been secretly picturing Ashe coming in again, giving you a small rush now that it’s actually come true. You try and convince yourself it’s just for the possibility of another tip, and not for the way her voice makes you weak at the knees, and her eyes are the most gorgeous you’ve ever seen.

“Here you guys are, anything else just let me know.” You say brightly.

“Thanks doll.”

God you can’t deny how much that nickname is affecting you when it slips from her red lips, as you turn and serve some other tables. You notice a few patrons glancing at the gang as they eat, but you aren’t afraid anymore, and you sure as hell aren’t gonna turn them in, however you try and push away the feeling of guilt at how flippant you’re being regarding a wanted gang of criminals. All because the leader was hot.

Still, you go about your shift easily, growing to like whenever Ashe would unashamedly look at your ass whenever you bent over to pick something up from a table; in fact, a few times you did it on purpose in the hopes the older woman was looking at you. After a while, it was near closing time so you check on them to get any final orders. Upon asking for the check, you hand it to them.

“Cash or card?” you ask.

“Cash” the leader replies, this time opening a bag that was sat beside her. You can’t help but glance inside, and the sheer volume of dollar bills nearly has your eyes watering. That explains why they look so bruised and scraped, you think to yourself, as she counts out the amount and places it on the table. As they get up to leave, Ashe is again the last one as she hands you another wad of cash.

“Your tip.” She says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Oh…miss I really cant accept that much again- “

“You can, and you will.” She replies, her tone leaving no room for argument as you shyly take the money, electricity spiking up your back as your skin brushes against hers.

“Thank you so so much, I really can’t thank you enough.”

“No need sugar.” She waves her hand dismissively as she grabs her rifle. “Stay safe, these parts ain’t gonna be quiet for too long.”

You nod a little at her warning as she leaves, your heart beating rapidly. She gives you a final look up and down as she leaves, and you release a shaky breath, god you really have to stop getting so worked up about her. Although it’s hard when you glance at the 300 dollar bill tip she just gave you.

However a few days later, things really take a turn for you. Two of your fellow waitresses invite you out to a bar, and you’d been polite enough to say yes despite your reluctance. Once you arrive, they’re both taken with a few men who buy them drinks, leaving you alone at the bar, tapping your finger anxiously on the table. You get a few offers from guys trying to buy you drinks, but you blow them off, your dress suddenly feeling too tight in the warm lights. Thinking about leaving, you move a bit through the bar before you hear raucous laughter from a nearby cards table.

The deadlock gang…they were here. Clearly nobody was brave enough to ask them to leave, or hell they might even own the place…it strikes you just how little you know about them; dangerous considering the leader now knows your name. The same leader who you’ve just locked eyes with, the red hue causing your breath to catch. Hesitating, you turn to leave. Maybe she didn’t recognise you outside of your waitress uniform, as you attempt to walk casually towards the exit.

“You better not be leaving doll, not when I’ve just saw ya.” You hear a smooth southern voice say, and god it’s like the blood rushes to your face immediately. Turning, you see Ashe coming up to you, her lips, tie and eyes all the same colour. Danger.

“Seems my friends have left me, I was just heading out-“

“Awe don’t worry, how about I be your friend, hm?”

It feels like the devil tempting you as you hesitate for a moment, but ultimately you find yourself nodding before you even realise. The smirk on her face makes her look like the wolf whose seduced the lamb into her den, as she leads you into the bar with a hand on the small of your back. Taking you to a smaller table away from the rest of her gang, she looks at you.

“Let me at least buy ya a drink.” She offers, and goes to order what you asked for. Tapping your fingers nervously against your thigh, you glance around as you wait. Her gang are still sat where you’d seen them, laughing and playing cards. You recognise a few of them who’d came into the diner, but quickly look away before they catch you staring.

“There ya go sugar.” Ashe says as she gets back, two glasses in hand. You quickly thank her as she slides into the booth with you, her thigh slightly touching your own. “So y’friends abandoned you?”

Laughing a little, you nod and explain that they’d been whisked away with some patrons who’d caught their eye. The smirk on Ashe’s face gives away her train of thought.

“But not you?” She inquires, eyes glancing around your face as if mapping out every detail.

“I prefer girls.” You say before even thinking about your words, but the older woman smiles all the same.

“Perfect.”

Forcing yourself to not show how flustered you are, she starts to ask questions about your life, your job, your family. As you speak, she seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, something you can’t say you’ve ever had with the dates you’ve been on in the past. Not that this is a date…

“What about you?” You ask softly.

“Me? All ya need to know is that deadlock is my family now.” She says, before grinning. “Well, B.O.B is extra special family.”

“The one with the little hat, right?” You reply, peering over her shoulder to her gang, where the hulking omnic sat with his eyes firmly on the two of you.

“Yeah that’s it, my bodyguard. Not that I need him all the time. Best believe I can handle myself.” She smirks, leaning in to murmur the last bit close to your ear, causing you to giggle a little.

“You’re known for being quite dangerous around these parts, right?”

“Oh you could say that doll. What, you scared?” She teases, before you quickly shake your head. “Good, I like a brave girl.”

Smiling a little at her praise, you aren’t even focused on the fact she’s a gang leader anymore. Like Eve biting the forbidden fruit, you let Ashe place her hand on your knee as you speak, the sinful spark of electricity seemingly travelling from her manicured fingertips all the way up your spine. As you both talk, her fingers tracing small circles on your knee, before slightly rising higher.

After an hour or so, her gang approach, rowdy and clearly intoxicated as they giggle.

“C’mon Ashe, let’s hit up some other places.”

You smile at the cowgirl, thinking it’s the end of the night for you. But she hums, glancing at you for a moment before replying.

“Ya’ll go and have fun, but not too much.”

One of her lieutenants tilts his head, “huh? You ain’t comin’?”

Ashe cuts him a glare that tells him to shut his mouth, before readjusting herself so her arm is around your shoulder. “I’m doin’ just fine here.”

With no room for argument, her gang takes off after Ashe gives a nod to her omnic bodyguard. You on the other hand feel your breathing quicken at the feel of her arm around you, subtly leaning closer to her as you giggle.

“You’re doing just fine here?” You ask, to which she smirks.

“Damn right I am, got a pretty girl hangin’ off my every word. What’s not to like?”

At the reassurance that she does in fact find you pretty, the heat rises within you. Not being able to help glancing at her lips for a moment, the ever perceptive criminal obviously noticing, her breath tickling your cheek as she speaks.

“But just cause I’m doin’ fine here, don’t mean we can’t go somewhere else…maybe away from pryin’ eyes.”

At her announcement, you glance around to notice the other patrons sneaking glances as you. But another thought comes creeping through your mind, the thought of going home with her. Of letting her touch you in the way you’ve been fantasising about ever since she came into the diner. You wouldn’t dream of admitting the nights you spent playing with your clit, imagining the infamous gang leader’s fingers instead. So you nod, knowing you’d give in, and the self-satisfied smile on her face tells you that she knew you’d say yes.

She leads you with by the hand, warm and slightly callous in your own, before coming upon her motorcycle parked outside the bar. Seeing your expression, she giggles softly.

“First time on one of these?” she asks, to which you nod, “Don’t worry sugar, just hold on good and tight f’me, alright?”

And you really do, clinging on to her waist as she speeds down dirt roads, hair wispy in the wind. Try as you might to relax and take in the scenery, you can’t deny the relief you feel when she finally brings the bike to a stop. She takes you once again by the hand and leads you inside, shutting and bolting the door behind you both. Now should be the time to feel at least a little intimidated, but butterflies of excitement uncurl in your stomach as she glances at you.

“Want another drink?” she asks smoothly, to which you shake your head. Drinking really is the last thing on your mind, especially as she stalks closer to you. “Maybe you want somethin’ else…”

Feeling your back against the wall, you nod slightly as she brings her hand up to slowly trace your cheekbone. Her thumb rubs smoothing lines, and at this proximity you can see every line and pore on her beautiful face, every eyelash, how her tongue darts out a little to lick at her lip.

“D’you want me doll? Gotta tell me now or I ain’t touchin’ ya.”

“I want you.” You say, trying to sound confident but melting at her grin.

“Alright, you gotta know though…I’m a woman who likes control, likes to be in charge. You sure you can handle that?”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning as she says that, nodding quickly again. At your consent, she leans in and kisses you, the tension between you both finally exploding. She presses you further up against the wall, tongue running along your bottom lip before exploring your mouth. Eagerly swallowing your slight whimpers, she uses her free hand to wrap around your hip, keeping you where she wants you. Pulling away, she observes the slight red stain her lipstick as left on your mouth, before kissing along your jaw.

“So sweet sugar, like candy.” She mumbles against your skin, kissing down to your neck and licking. “Gonna let me leave a mark?”

You stutter out a yes, before she sucks a dark hickey into your neck. There really isn’t any going back now, she’s marked you. The leader of the deadlock gang has truly staked her claim on you, and you couldn’t be happier.

Feeling the material of your dress, she slowly inches the fabric up, exposing more and more of your thighs as she kisses to the junction between your neck and shoulder. She lets out a soft moan as she grips your upper thigh, feeling the soft skin under her touch and squeezing. Although she quickly grows tired of waiting, instead slipping between your thighs to grope your clothed pussy instead. At the action, you can’t help but buck forward into her touch, feeling her smile against your skin.

“So wet already, bet you were drippin’ in the bar huh?” she accuses you, knowing she was right. Her fingers cup your panties, feeling the wet material beneath her skin, exploring. With a soft whimper, you let her touch you how she wants, eyelids fluttering closed before she slaps your pussy lightly.

“Nuh uh doll, eyes open.”

When you do as she instructs, she rewards you by slipping into your panties and rubbing your clit in slow rhythmic circles. The result is instantaneous, a quiet needy moan escaping you as you feel her touch. Her eyes never leave your face, head tilted as she watches your reactions.

“Look so pretty, y’know that? Know how pretty you are?” she praises you teasingly, meaning every word but mostly saying them because of how flustered you act when you hear them. Her praise goes straight to your cunt, clit throbbing under her touch as she speeds up her movements.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen sugar. You’re gonna cum on my hand, and all I’m gonna do is play with your clit. If you’re a good girl and do what I say, imma take you into the bedroom and fuck the brains outta ya.”

 Her tone doesn’t leave any room for argument, and you voice your confirmation. She grips your waist, encouraging you to rock into her hand as she keeps up the movement of her fingers, strumming your core expertly. It’s clear to you she’s experienced, and you wonder if this is a normal occurrence for her; to seduce and play with pretty girls who happen to cross her path when she isn’t out being a criminal.

Shakily, you grip on to her waistcoat for stability, feeling yourself get closer and closer the more she touches you. When she releases your waist to grope your tits, that’s when your thighs really start to shake, grip harder on her outfit.

“Yeah baby, that’s right. Cum on my hand, make a mess.” She encourages, her voice igniting that fire inside of you as you finish on her hand with a soft cry. Not slowing down, she gets every last bit of your pleasure before she finally removes her hand, bringing it up to the light to observe your fluids sticking to her digits. “Awe, ya really did make a mess.”

Catching your breath, you blink for a moment as she uses those same fingers to tap at your lower lip, before parting them to clean her fingers for her. Tasting yourself was a little strange, but it was worth it for the way her pupils dilated and her breath caught in her throat at your performance. Without another word, she grabs your upper arm and hauls you into the bedroom.

Getting you on your back, she grabs the zipper of your dress and yanks it down, removing it quickly as she leans to give you another kiss. Moaning softly, you reach to unzip her waist coat, pushing it off her before your hands go to her tie. She grins against your lips and helps you undo it, before he grips your wrists and pins them above your head, mattress squeaking slightly.

“Can you guess what I’m about to do?” she purrs, before wrapping the red tie around your wrists, not tight enough to hurt but just enough to give the illusion of incapacitation. Bound like a present for her, she straddles your waist and looks at her handiwork, before slowly unbuttoning her dress shirt. You buck up a little in excitement, as she reveals her white bra. Removing her fingerless gloves, she tugs your ruined underwear down roughly, exposing your dripping cunt to the dim light of the bedroom.

“So many things I wanna do to you baby, so many things.” She says as she runs her finger along your pussy lips, smirking as you twitch. “Anythin’ completely off limits?”

You tell her and she hums in acknowledgement, before glancing at the wardrobe. She lifts herself off you, hissing at you to stay still as she grabs a box from beneath a few clothes and bullet shell casings. Bringing it over, she smirks as your eyes widen at the sheer number of toys in the box.

“I’m a wealthy woman doll, and I’m a wealthy woman with…needs.” She answers your silent judgement, before leaving the box on the floor next to the bed. “Now if you do well, I promise I’ll fuck ya, how does that sound?”

Before being able to ask what you need to do well at, she unbuttons her trousers and slides them down her legs, removing all of her harnesses and belts with precision. Just in her bra and underwear now, she winks at you before ridding herself of her panties before climbing up your body. Oh. You know what she wants, and you whimper desperately in anticipation.

Grabbing the headboard, she positions herself over your face, thighs on either side. You’re practically salivating, as she moves your bound hands to be resting on your stomach. Without warning, she finally sits on your face, and you get to work immediately. You lap at her pussy, wanting to taste her all night and finally being given the opportunity. She groans softly, the feeling of your warm tongue between her thighs was heavenly. She wanted you like this since she saw you, in that silly waitress dress that was too small for your curves.

Rocking into your tongue, she watches you squirm with glee, moving one hand to hold your hair; keeping you in place as she uses you. Uses your mouth, all for herself. Whimpering, you lick up to her clit before sucking gently, delighting in how a soft moan escapes her throat. She tightens her grip on your hair, pulling to angle you to where exactly she wants. Her pussy was dripping, mixing with your saliva as she makes a mess of your face. Not that you mind, excitedly pleasuring her as best you can.

“Fuck sugar, ain’t you a good girl.” She slurs out, as you move your tongue over her cunt. “Keep it up and I’m, shit, I’m definitely fuckin’ ya.”

You whine in excitement, doubling down on your effort, jaw slightly aching as you please the criminal above you. Feeling herself get close, she grinds faster into your tongue, taking the sensations you’re willingly providing her. She finally cums in your mouth with an uncharacteristically higher pitched moan, her hips slowing until she stills.

You catch your breath rapidly as she climbs off you, leaning into her hand as she wipes your mouth of her wetness. The action causes your chest to feel tight with happiness, before she taps your cheek in a slightly condescending manner.

“Alright then doll, I’m a woman of my word.”

With that, she leans off the bed to rifle through the box, before bringing up a bottle of lube and squeezing a glob onto her fingers. With a nod of confirmation from you, she pushes two fingers slowly inside, feeling how your practically suck her in. She groans quietly, as you make a stranged gasp at the sensation. Removing them, she sinks them inside again before repeating, the wet noises from your cunt echoing off the walls.

“Hear that? Hear how much this pussy wants me?” she taunts, curling them to prod at that spot inside that makes your toes curl.

She sets a slow but firm rhythm, focusing on stretching you out for whats to come as her other hand gentle strokes circles on your thigh. You’re having the time of your life, hands still bound helplessly infront of you as your digits flex. This is exactly what you wanted from her, what you needed from her, and she hadn’t even got to the main event yet.

After a while though, and a third finger being slipped inside, you grow impatient with the growing desire for her to fuck you. So you do your best to voice that desperation, hips twitching and voice pathetically higher pitched than normal.

“You want it baby?” she says, slowing her fingers to a halt before grinning at you. “Say it nicely.”

“Can you please fuck me Ashe?” you ask.

With a nod and a quick spank to your oversensitive pussy, she leans down and grabs the strap on she was keeping which causes your eyes to widen. It’s a black harness, with a purple dildo attached. It wasn’t overly big at around 6 inches, but it certainly seemed thicker than anything you’d taken before. Suddenly glad of her prep, you watch as she moves a pillow beneath your hips, before lubing up the fake cock.

She pushes in slowly, and you both moan at the sight and sensation. God you look gorgeous, she thinks, as her red eyes watch your face contort in pleasure and the slight pain that comes with the stretch. You whimper her name softly, cunt tightening around the dildo as Ashe strokes at your hips soothingly.

“I know, I know sugar. But you can take it, I know you can take it.” She praises, bottoming out inside you. Thighs shaking, you’re grateful for the way she lets you adjust to the size, and after a few moments you offer her a shaky nod.

Smiling, she pulls out slowly and pushes you back in, getting you used to the rhythm of being fucked as the grip on your thighs tightens a little. She clearly has a lot of core strength, able to keep the pace effectively and slightly speed up when she senses you get more comfortable. The slick sounds of your pussy getting fucked by her should make you embarrassed, but the shameless noise only serves to turn you on further.

“That’s it, look at ya. Takin’ my cock so well, such a good little girl.” She grunts out, cowboy hat laying askew on her head as she keeps fucking you. You lift your bound hands to paw at her bra, before she clearly gets the hint and chuckles. Not slowing down at all, she reaches behind herself and practically rips the garment off, exposing her breasts to your gaze. You go to touch them before she grabs your wrists easily, moving them above your head as she moves your thighs up.

This new angle means she can drive the toy impossibly deep inside you, pinning your hands down and making sure you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take. You moan louder at this, eyes nearly rolling back as you’re sure she’s fucking your brains out. The mating press makes her feel good too, the harness bumping her clit with every thrust, serving the mental image of her fucking you with physical sensation.

“So cute, like my own little doll. Maybe I should keep ya.” She drawls, causing you to whimper more at the insinuation. Hell, in this moment she could threaten to lock you up in her basement and you’d probably blindly agree, needing to feel more of the delicious friction she was providing you. Moving her one hand down, she rubs a little clumsily at your clit, causing your cunt to tighten around the dildo.

You aren’t sure how long she fucks you like that, time an illusion that pales in comparison to the pleasure of being fucked by the gang leader, but eventually you need to cum. So you tell her, beg her, which only fuels her dominate headspace further.

“Yeah keep beggin’ me, that’s right. You know who’s in control right now.” She groans out, slamming her hips against yours. Every muscle in your body tightening, you barely have time to tell her you’re gonna cum until you’re gushing around her fake cock with a drawn out moan. Grinning, she slows down, stroking at your arms.

“Good job, you looked so pretty baby.” She whispers, red nails gently dragging on your skin soothingly. Just when you’re about to thank her though when she pulls out, she grabs under your hips and flips you, landing face first into the mattress with a grunt.

“Ashe-“

“Oh come on darlin’, you didn’t think we’d just stop at one, did you?”

With that, she pushes into you for a second time from behind, your back arching. This time she doesn’t wait for you to adjust before pulling back and thrusting inside. With your loud, overstimulated moans, she grins sadistically and starts to fuck you again, your hands limply in front of your face.

“Oh fuck doll, ain’t you just the prettiest thing.” She gets out through her shaky drawn out breaths, focusing on railing you firmly into next week. Your thighs tremble with every thrust, feeling your g spot get battered by her dildo. You feel a sharp smack as she spanks your ass, and at your reaction she repeats the motion.

Eyes rolling back, your front falls into the sheets as you lose the strength to hold yourself up, moaning incessantly at her rough treatment. She fucks you like she already owns you, like you’re her property, and you love it. The sensations are so much, you find yourself whimpering her name over and over.

But a part of Ashe wants you to call her by her first name, a name she hardly lets anyone call her. But ultimately decides against it, it feels too real, somehow too intimate. Reluctant to break down her walls, she instead channels her mental doubts into fucking you better, harder, with more passion. She holds your hips for stability, pushing your hands down so you can crudely rub yourself while she fucks you.

Soon it all becomes too much, and you feel yourself barrelling towards your next orgasm quickly. Your breathy whines and whimpers let her know, as she moves her hand up your spine before nestling her fingers in your hair. She gives a sharp pull, forcing you into an arch as she coos in your ear.

“Awe baby, you gonna cum again? Gonna let me fuck another one outta ya?”

You nod dumbly, almost drooling as your pussy tightens yet again.

“Good, make some noise for me m’kay?”

Making good on her word, she thrusts into your g spot with conviction, forcing noises to come tumbling out of your throat as you cum for a third time that night, twitching and almost convulsing. This time when she slows, she pulls out for good, unclasping the harness and letting the strap fall to her side as she takes you in her arms. She tosses the cowgirl hat and nestles herself into the pillows, pulling you with her so you’re laying on her chest.

“That okay for you?” she asks, like she hasn’t just given you the railing of a lifetime, but you giggle softly anyway and nod. “Alright good, just checkin’. I’ll run ya a bath in a minute, how does that sound?”

You relax into her embrace, content to let her take care of you as you hum softly in appreciation. Her nails gently drag along your scalp, the soothing gesture threatening to send you to sleep before she can clean you up. You can’t deny how safe you feel, in the arms of someone so dangerous. But she’s showing you such affection, such softness which contradicts the rumours that swirl around her.

“Are you gonna come to the diner more?”

That innocent little question you ask, so full of hope and contentment causes an unfamiliar sensation to rise up in the cowgirl, as she glances down at you.

“You want that? You wanna see me some more?”

At your nod, she swallows thickly. You actually want to see her more, maybe as more than someone to fuck. Someone to…she doesn’t let herself finish that thought, instead smirks teasingly.

“Sure doll, gotta come back to the diner. Gotta make sure nobody else is tippin’ my favourite waitress as much as I am.”

You giggle at that, teasing her back. “Oh? So if someone tipped me higher then you’d match it?”

“I’d go beyond matchin’ it darlin’, might have to start paying your bills as my tip.”

You really laugh at her dramatics, cuddling up to her more and making her cheeks involuntarily flush. With a soft sigh, she allows herself to bask in the moment before slapping your ass gently.

“Come on then dollface, let’s get ya in the bath.”

[guccixstyless]

Intern (Pt. 6)

Author's Note: Anddd the final part of the Intern Series, I'm so glad I could finish it phew, thank you guys for reading through xx

Word Count: 2941 words

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Masterlist

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The next morning, the sun streamed through the tall windows of the hotel’s buffet lounge, casting a warm glow over the spread of fresh croissants, fruit, and coffee. It was a rare morning off for the crew, and everyone had gathered around a long table, chatting, laughing, and enjoying a relaxed breakfast before their day off in Paris.

Harry sat at the table, his eyes scanning the room, waiting. His fingers absentmindedly tapped against the edge of his coffee cup as he kept looking toward the door. He didn’t have to wait long. The moment Y/N stepped into the room, his face broke into a wide grin. He couldn’t help it. He felt lighter seeing her, like a weight had been lifted, just by her presence.

The clinking of silverware, the rustle of napkins, and the faint hum of conversation created a comforting atmosphere, but his mind was far from at ease. Will you accept his feelings? Did he make it more complicated by confessing so abruptly?

Just then he saw you entering.

You walked into the room, scanning the familiar faces of the crew. Sarah, Mitch, and Jeff were already seated at the table, laughing about something you couldn’t quite hear. You hesitated for just a second, taking in the scene, before you made my way over to them.

And there he was. Harry.

You don’t know why you still felt this nervous energy around him. It was ridiculous, really. Harry had been your best friend for so long, and even though you’d been through so much recently, you should have felt more at ease around him. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? The unspoken tension that seemed to hang in the air every time you were in the same room. He had been your best friend, and now… I wasn’t sure what we were anymore.

His eyes met yours as you made your way toward the table, and for a brief moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. You saw the familiar warmth in his gaze, but there was something else too—a quiet anticipation, as though he were waiting for something to happen. For you to say something, for you both to fix what had been broken.

You smiled, though it didn’t feel as natural as it used to. "Morning," you said, keeping your voice light, hoping it would mask the anxiety swirling in my stomach.

"Morning," he replied, his voice warm and filled with a kind of relief that made your heart ache. "I’m glad you could join us."

You nodded, sitting down next to him, the familiar comfort of his presence making your pulse quicken in a way you hadn’t expected. You weren’t sure what it was—maybe it was the closeness, the shared history—but there was something about Harry that always seemed to pull you in, even when you tried to fight it.

You noticed how the others didn’t seem to miss a beat, chatting casually about their plans for the day. Mitch and Jeff were already talking about exploring the city, teasing Sarah about how she always wanted to shop for clothes in Paris. Sarah rolled her eyes but smiled in return, clearly used to their playful teasing.

But no matter how normal everything around seemed, you couldn’t shake the sense that there was this wall between Harry and you. It wasn’t visible, but it was there. Every time you looked at him, you saw the familiar flicker of hope in his eyes—the same hope you had been avoiding for days now.

The conversation around the table flowed, but Harry stayed quiet, his eyes finding yours every so often, as if checking if you were alright. And you could feel it, the weight of the question hanging in the air between you. Would we talk? Or would we continue to dance around the unspoken words that neither of us wanted to say?

"You’re looking a little more… relaxed today," Mitch teased, nudging you with his elbow. "What’s going on between you and Harry? You two looking like you’ve worked out your issues?"

You froze for just a moment, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," you said, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably. Your eyes briefly flicked to Harry, who had that familiar sheepish grin on his face, as if he too were trying to brush off the comment.

Sarah smirked from across the table. "Oh, come on," she said, raising an eyebrow. "You two totally have something going on. I can see it."

You couldn’t help but laugh, though it was forced. "You guys are impossible," you muttered, trying to avoid their teasing eyes. But deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a little grateful for their distraction. It made it easier to hide the truth that had been weighing on you—the truth that you weren’t ready to face, not yet.

Jeff, ever the good sport, rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "You all know how these things go," he said with a wink. "No rush. Let’s let them figure it out on their own."

You could see the tension in Harry's shoulders, the way his hands clenched around his coffee cup as though trying to ground himself. You knew it wasn’t just about the teasing. He wanted more than just a casual conversation. He wanted us to talk. And God, you wanted to talk to him too. But the fear that had settled deep in your chest was suffocating. What if you weren’t ready to hear what he had to say?

As breakfast went on, the crew made plans to explore the city, taking advantage of the rare free day. They all seemed excited, talking about seeing the sights and enjoying the local cafés. You couldn’t blame them—Paris was beautiful, and the thought of getting away from everything for a while was tempting.

When breakfast wrapped up, everyone stood and started gathering their things. You didn’t know why, but you found yourself lingering behind, unable to shake the nagging feeling that something was going to happen today—something you weren’t quite ready for.

Harry was right next to you, walking slowly, almost as if he were waiting for you to say something. You stole a glance at him, watching as he tugged the collar of his jacket higher, his eyes lost in thought. He looked up suddenly, catching my gaze, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

"Y/N," he said quietly, his voice low but filled with something I couldn’t quite name. "You okay."

"I'm fine," you whispered, feeling the tightness in your chest.

After strolling for a bit and when everyone was at a distance, Harry finally said, "I can’t stand this anymore," he continued, his gaze intense, searching your. "I can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine when I’m barely holding it together. I need to know where we stand, Y/N. Are we done, or is there something left here? Because I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel something. I'll accept being just your friend too, as long as your'e in my life"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Harry," you said, your voice shaky but steady enough to make him stop in his tracks. "I miss you. I miss us. I just don't know if we're rushing."

His eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. "We don’t have to fix everything right now. I just need you to know that I’m here. I’ve always been here, Y/N. And I’m not going anywhere."

You squeezed his hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you in that moment. There was so much fear swirling inside you, but his sincerity, the softness in his gaze, was starting to break through the walls you had built.

"I keep fearing that I'm just a rebound," I said quietly, your voice barely a whisper. "I don’t want to be with you because you’re afraid of being alone."

Harry looked at you for a long moment, his thumb gently rubbing over your hand as if trying to reassure you. "I would never do that to you. This isn’t about being afraid, Y/N. It’s about knowing what I want. And what I want is you. Always you."

You closed your eyes for a second, trying to hold yourself together, but the emotions were overwhelming. "But… how do we know it’s the right time?" you whispered.

He smiled softly, stepping closer. "We don’t. But I’m willing to wait. For as long as it takes. I’ll wait for you, Y/N. You’re worth it."

Your heart swelled at his words, the wall you had been building around yourself starting to crack. "You really mean that?"

"More than anything," he said, his voice full of certainty.

You met his gaze, the truth in his eyes undeniable. For the first time in what felt like forever, you saw the man you had always known—steady, genuine, and full of love. Maybe we didn’t have all the answers. Maybe things were still complicated. But for the first time in a long while, you were ready to take a step forward. With him.

"Alright," you said, my voice barely above a whisper, "let’s try this. Together."

Harry’s smile lit up his face, his eyes brighter than you’d seen them in days. "Together," he whispered.

You pulled him in for a kiss, and he kissed you back with so much intensity and full of love, you could hear your friends whislting behind with a chorus of "I knew it!" "Finally." "I told you."

You both break the kiss with a smile and look at each other fondly.

"Can I take you on a date?" Harry asked shyly.

"I'd love that," you answered.

You both ditched the friend group and went your way.

***********************************************************************

The evening air in Paris was crisp and refreshing, the kind of cool that made you want to hold hands and pull your jacket a little tighter around you. Harry and you had decided to take a stroll through the streets of the city, away from the chaos of the concert and the noise of the hotel. The city lights twinkled like tiny stars above, casting a soft glow on the cobblestone streets. It was as if Paris itself was putting on a show just for us.

"Where to now?" Harry asked, his hand intertwinded with yours, as you walked side by side. He looked down at you with a playful glint in his eyes, his messy curls barely visible under the low light, his lips pulled into a grin.

“How about that little bakery over there?” You suggested, pointing to a shop with a window display full of colorful macarons and tempting pastries.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smile. “Macarons, huh? Are you sure you can handle all the sweetness in one sitting?”

“Hey,” you laughed, nudging him gently with your shoulder. “I’m not the one who can't resist sugar. We both know you have a secret macaron addiction.”

He looked at you with mock offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “I am not addicted!” he insisted, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “But… since you’re offering…”

Yoy walked into the bakery, the warmth of the place immediately surrounding us. The shelves were lined with delicate pastries and neatly stacked boxes of macarons in every color imaginable. Harry’s hand found yours again, and you squeezed it, feeling the familiar rush of happiness at the simple contact.

“You go ahead and pick something,” he said with a smile, his eyes scanning the colorful treats. “I’ll just be over here, making sure I’m not eating the entire shelf of macarons.”

You nodded and went to see the options, finally you picked out a box of macarons in soft pastel shades. “These look like they’re from a fairy tale,” you said returning to Harry’s side, holding the box out for him.

His eyes widened in playful surprise. “You’re right, they’re practically magical.”

With a smirk, he plucked a pink macaron from the box, carefully inspecting it. “How about a challenge?” Harry asked, his voice low with excitement.

“Challenge?” I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of challenge?”

“If I guess your favorite flavor, you have to let me feed you the first bite,” he said with a grin, clearly proud of himself for coming up with such a clever idea.

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re on, Styles. But don’t get cocky. I’m not easy to guess.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, focusing intently on the box of macarons. After a few moments of dramatic consideration, he picked one up and held it out. “This one. I think it’s your favorite. You’ve got a thing for vanilla, don’t you?”

You bit my lip, pretending to deliberate. “Vanilla? Are you sure? What makes you think that?”

Harry shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “I’ve been paying attention. You always pick the simplest, most comforting things.”

You raised an eyebrow, impressed with his reasoning. “That’s… kind of sweet, actually.”

“Well, I am sweet,” he teased, winking at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling my heart soften at his words. "Alright, fine, you got me. Vanilla is my favorite."

Harry beamed with victory, his eyes twinkling. “Told you.”

He then took the macaron, gently breaking it in half, and offered me the first bite. You leaned forward, taking a small bite, savoring the smooth, creamy filling. The sweetness was subtle but perfect, and you found myself smiling without even realizing it.

“That’s good,” you said, looking up at Harry. “You have good taste.”

His face lit up at the compliment, and he reached for another macaron. “So, do I get to try one now?” he asked, the playful edge still in his voice.

“Of course,” you replied, offering him the box. “Go ahead. Just don’t eat them all.”

“I’ll try to save some for you,” he promised, flashing me a mischievous grin before taking one of the macaron halves and biting into it.

After finishing the box of macarons, you left the bakery and continued walking through the city, Harry slipping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. The chill of the evening air didn’t seem to matter anymore, not with the warmth of his touch and the quiet, unspoken connection between us.

He stopped walking and turned to face you, his hands on my shoulders, gently pulling me closer. “I’ve always had feelings for you, Y/N. But I didn’t want to push you, not after everything. I’ve been an idiot for not telling you sooner.”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling at his confession. “I’ve cared about you too, Harry. Since the beginning of tour actually. But I was just scared to admit it, scared of what it would mean for us.”

Harry stepped closer, his forehead resting against yours. “Oh baby, we wasted so much time, yeah? Now let's make up for those,” he smiled softly.

You closed my eyes for a moment, letting the words sink in. When you opened them again, you smiled up at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “Well, if we’re going to make the most of our time, we might as well make it official.”

His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You leaned up, brushing your lips against his lips, giving him a quick peck, then whispered in his ear. “Yeah, I’m saying ask me to be your girlfriend already, Styles”

Harry grinned, his hands pulling me into a tight embrace. "Finally," he whispered, his voice full of relief and joy. He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering as he spoke, like this was the most important question he could ever ask. "Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?"

Your heart skipped a beat. The way he asked it—so raw, so vulnerable—made everything inside of you light up. You couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks flushing. You had imagined this moment countless times, but hearing it from him, feeling it, made it more perfect than you could have ever dreamed.

You looked at him, the words y’d been holding in finally escaping me. "Harry... yes. Yes, I will. I want to be yours."

The relief on his face was immediate, his eyes lighting up like a thousand stars. His grin spread across his face, and he didn’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug. You felt his warmth surrounding me, his arms strong and reassuring as he whispered in your ear, "You have no idea how happy that makes me, Y/N. I promise, I’ll never take you for granted."

You smiled, pulling back just enough to look at him. "I’m happy too, Harry. I’ve wanted this for so long."

He leaned in then, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, before pulling back with a playful glint in his eyes. "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now."

"I think I can live with that." You laughed

As you both sat down on a bench nearby, the world around you seemed to melt away. It was just you and Harry, sharing this perfect, intimate moment together. The kind of moment you never forget. It wasn’t just a first date anymore—it was the beginning of something real, something beautiful, and it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

"I love you, Y/N," Harry murmured, his voice soft but filled with certainty.

"I love you too, Harry," you whispered back, knowing, without a doubt, that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

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Taglist: @ever-since-the-kilt @pxrrishly @jld20047 @thecraziestcrayon @emma1998sblog @lovrrysworld-ally @jackiehollanderr @sassamanda77

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#6. A day in paradise

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

Park Jimin × Reader

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

Warnings- Language/SMUT- Making out/ Dirty talks/ slight grinding/ Oral (F.Receiving)/ fingering INFIDELITY

Word count- 15k (Phew... I had to physically restrain myself from writing more.)

a/n - Well, there are a lot of words here, but I needed to include everything before things will go down, probably starting from the next chapter. Speaking of which, the next chapter might be delayed or might not come out next week due to some family events. (I'm not thrilled at all.) My apologies in advance. I’m really sorry. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much for your continued support and reading. ♥️

Taglist?

Chapter Index

Previous - Next

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The scenery of urban buildings slowly passes by you. You are very intrigued to say the least. As your first time traveling away from the hustle of Seoul. This is the first time you’re seeing the other parts of this world. So far, you’ve got to learn that everything stays similar to your world. To a certain extent. People. Vehicles. Buildings. Politics. Music. Movies. Technology. Yet, it’s not the exact same thing. There’s some good music but nothing you’ve heard before. Some intriguing movies but nothing you’ve seen before. That applies to everything. Similar in its nature but different in its contents.

That makes you curious beyond satiating. Pointing at everything and questioning like a four year old. Exhausting Park Jimin to his limit. Still, he answers everything. Laughs hard at some stupid ones. Is similarly intrigued when you tell him about how things are different in your world.

By the time he finally lets you know, that you’re finally near to your intended destination, you’ve been talking about Colleges. It was a two fucking hour long drive. A light snow from the previous night has decorated the world in a shiny glow under the sun. This place, where the party would be held is a cottage owned by Hoseok. And the moment your eyes land on it, you fall in love. Gives you that cosy feeling even before you get out of the car. It’s majestic, with white dust covering the roof. With the same white scattered around the ground. Not traditional. Has a pitched roof. Two story. Upper balcony covered in the same white blanket. Can a place be more beautiful than this?

“Wow..” You whisper under your breath. Jimin hears it anyway. Chuckles. You pay him no attention. Press your face against the window. Bask in the magical feeling. Get blinded by the glow that sun creates together with the snow.

“Right?” Jimin agrees with you. He turns off the engine. Unbuckles the belt and takes a breath. Stretches his stiff muscles after a long drive. You turn to him.

Oh! This magic is more appealing than the magic of the cottage.

Cold sun rays are creating beams of light on Jimin’s face. Changes his eye color into a lighter shade of brown. Like toasted caramel. Beautiful. Enchanting. Magic of Park Jimin.

Which is better? The feeling of warmth you feel now here with him or the feeling you’ll feel after you enter that cosy cottage. Easy. This feeling. Nothing will be able to compare. It’s better when he watches you with those eyes. Exquisite when he smiles at you. You’re melting. It’s a hard decision to look away. Fumbling with your seat belt and getting ready to join your (Jimin’s) friends.

“You’ll be fine right?” Jimin interrupts you. Apparently doesn’t like it when you pay little to no attention to him.

“Of course, I will. After you made me attend a fucking board meeting, Park, nothing is going to be worse than that.” You answer him pointedly. Open the door.

“Well yeah but uh...” He interrupts you again. This time you look at him annoyed. Not for real though. He doesn’t have to know that. “What?” You knit your brows. Jimin opens his mouth. Tries to say something then changes his mind. “Thank You!” He mumbles softly. That’s definitely not what he intended to say. You take it as that anyway. Roll your eyes.

“Move your ass, Park!” You exit the car. Giggle when you hear him lowly curses. Watch him get out. Walking to the trunk. You do the same. Stand close by to him when he starts to unload your very unnecessarily large suitcases. Because this is a mini-vacation apparently.

To say you were mad would be an understatement. The moment he let you know that this party is not just a party but a three days long stay at the cottage, you went feral. Was he kidding you? How the fuck are you going to manage a three-day long stay when you will disappear the moment you close your eyes. Then he came up with this brilliant idea. You’ll act like you have every intention of staying. And he will receive a call from his parents. Family emergencies. You’ll leave. All solved. It took him some time to make you agree but in the end you did. Of course, you did. People pleasers.

These unnecessarily large suitcases are part of the plan. Still, you think they are unnecessary. Scream overdoing it. Jimin is stupid. Extremely so. You grab one of the heavy luggage despite his protests.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Park. I can totally lift some weight okay. Be...” You lift it to take it away from the car. Clench your teeth. Put it down again. Heave for breath. Jimin is watching you with that glint in his eyes. “What the fuck did you pack here?” You change your course of subject. Jimin did all the packing. Most of things he packed were stupid. Hell, you even caught him packing a damn pillow. When you asked why he would need a pillow, he said he can’t sleep on other pillows. God only knows what other weird things he packed up.

“Well, nobody asked you to be a bad bitch and lift that alone.” Jimin points out. Fair. But who needs this much stuff. Especially, when you both know you won’t be staying a night at this place after all. You sigh exasperatedly. Ridiculous. Now you want to take this stupid luggage inside by all yourself. Just to prove him wrong. So, you huff. Bends down to lift the suitcase with your both hands. That’s when a very familiar, excited and a high-pitched voice reaches you.

“Noona...”

You straighten up and spin around. Jimin just whips his head. There’s no need of looking to know to whom that voice belongs to. In this world, there’s only one person who calls you Noona. And only one person who gets excited like a puppy to see you. That’s why you’re not surprised to find that the voice, indeed belongs to Jungkook. Standing on the front porch. Drowning in a black, large, puffy winter jacket. Like a penguin. His muscles hidden under a round form. A headband in his forehead to keep his long strands of hair away. He waves at you. Grinning from one ear to other.

You’re not surprised that it is Jungkook. You’re surprised, that he is here. You only get half a second to turn and look at Jimin. Surprised. Surprised as to why he never mentioned anything about Jungkook. Before you can have your answer, however, you’re wrapped in a pair of large hands. A yelp escapes your mouth while Jungkook pulls you into a bear hug.

“Noona.” He shouts in your ear this time. Making you wince. Is buzzing with excitement apparently. You return the hug. Pat his back. Grinning. The surprise of seeing him here wearing off. Replacing with excitement. “Hey Kookie. Surprised to see you here.” You let him bury your face in his jacket. Suffocating you. Jungkook giggles. Prettily. Lets you go after crushing your bones. Scratches the back of his neck.

“Ah it’s Namjoon. You know?” Says sheepishly. Bows to Jimin. Jimin, on the other hand, is blinking at him. Very impolite. No proper decorum at all. Takes a minute. And then suddenly grabs your hand. Yanks you to his side. You nearly stumble back at the ferocity of that movement. A sudden annoyance washes over you. Making you glare at him. What the fuck is wrong with him?

Jungkook looks confused as well. Innocently, gaping at Jimin. Lets out an awkward chuckle. Apparently is very confused about what he should do now. Uncomfortable. You feel the same kind of uneasiness. How rude of Jimin to act like this. You chuckle in reply to Jungkook. Awkwardly. In apology for your pretend boyfriend’s childish behaviour. Try to free your hand from Jimin’s iron grip subtly. He doesn’t let go. If anything, he tightens it even more, harder that you’re beginning worry about losing your hand. You put more force in trying to free your hand. Even hiss his name.

“Jimin..”

“What?” He snaps. Oh, that’s embarrassing.

There’s a tension building up in the air. Both you and Jungkook awkwardly chuckling while Jimin crushing your hand. Eyes intensely watching Jungkook. You’re actually starting to getting worried. Hence your breath of relief when a second very excited voice booms through the peaceful air of the cottage.

“Jiminiee....” Taehyung practically runs to Jimin. “You’re so fucking late man.” Complains. Yet makes Jimin free your hand when his hand wraps around Jimin. The tension pops out. Oh you’re glad. So incredibly glad. That’s the reason for placing your hands around Taehyung’s neck as soon as he lets Jimin go. You still don’t like Taehyung that much. Some choices you made, however, made you realize that you’re no saint to judge other people. So, you’ll start to like him from now on.

“Long time no see, Tae....” You pat his back affectionately. Just like you did with Jungkook. Pull away. Only to find Taehyung blinking at you. Mouth agape. As if he just got hugged by a damn celebrity and he can’t believe it. “What?” You question through your grin. Confused gaze shifting from Taehyung to Jimin. Have no idea why Taehyung looks like he is stunned to his core. Jungkook is sporting a similar look to you. Why’s everyone so weird? Jimin heaves a sigh. Grabs everyone’s attention. His hand curls over your shoulders. Pulls you to his body.

“A good mood.” Mumbles. “Good fucking mood.” Mumbles again. You don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. Nor does Jungkook, if his pout is anything to goes by. Taehyung apparently does know. Twists his mouth. Raises his eyebrows. Shrugs his shoulders and nods. Accepts what Jimin said, whatever that is. Then goes back to his normal self. Like a switch was off and just got on. Grins happily and offers his help with your over packed luggage. So does Jungkook. Eagerly takes that heavy suitcase you were struggling with. You don’t even protest. Just know he would do that anyway. Simply thank him and follow them inside. Ignoring the scowl on Jimin’s face. Free yourself again from his embrace.

He is ridiculous.

............................

If you think you fell in love when you saw the cottage under the sunlight, now you want to find a way to get married to an immovable property. The interior is breath fucking taking. Makes you suck in a harsh breath when you finally go inside. Eyes going wide again. Taking in every single details about this magnificent place. Engraving them into your memory.

The dark hardwood flooring. Furnishings and decor. Upscale. Elegant. Has a real fucking fireplace, stone framed. The golden hue seeping inside through the large windows. Woolen carpets. Plushy upholstery. The entire place scream comfort. Lavish. You aren’t the least bit surprised when Taehyung and Jungkook very competitively describe about the spacious, fully equipped kitchen. And then of course, about the hot tub.

Jimin’s hand is back around you. He doesn’t give a two shit about how your whole body trembles when he does that. Apparently, you’re a good actress to be able hide your flattering. Still, you want him to give you space. For the sake of your poor heart. Good thing you can distract yourself by the gracious view of this place.

In fact you love this. Really get the urge to jump up and down when someone enters the living area from a door to your left. Prevents you from doing so. Someone you haven’t met before. You eye him curiously. Jimin, however, finally takes his hand away off your shoulders to greet the man. Beaming.

“Now this is what they call a miracle. How the hell Hoseok managed to get your ass here?” Jimin exclaims in surprise. Hands already wrapping around the stranger. The said stranger, though, instantly starts to make a fuss about it. Pushing Jimin away and shouting ‘don’t’ and ‘no’. Jimin doesn’t relent. Keeps crushing the poor man. Until this man, with black hair, which is long enough, the end of his hair touches his shoulders, gives up. Pats Jimin’s back too. Laughs hard. And you swoon at that gummy smile.

“You haven’t met Yoongi right?” Taehyung startles you by whispering in your ear. “Huh?” You turn to him.

“That’s Yoongi. Hoseok’s cousin. You’ve heard of him surely but haven’t met him right?” He questions back. Now, you don’t know if you have or not. What if Liya has met him and you say no. So, you just stare at Taehyung’s ridiculously handsome face. Feeling glad when Jimin comes to your rescue.

“This is Yoongi. We knew each other back in college.” Jimin is giving you a look. A look that clearly indicate you indeed have heard about him. You instantly break into a most polite yet friendliest kind of smile you could perform. Hold your hand towards the man with the gummy smile.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Have heard a lot about you.” Say while praying that you’re not overreacting. You’re not. Jimin gives you an approving nod when you look back at him. “Likewise.” Yoongi politely smiles back. Shakes your hand and bows. The way he carefully measures you not slipping from your eyes.

Taehyung sighs dreamily as you let Yoongi’s hand go. Grabbing everyone’s attention. Throws his arm over Jungkook’s neck. “Isn’t this great.” Another dreamy sigh. “What a perfect friend group we have.” Turns to Jungkook. “Even though I only know your name. But guess what? I don’t even care. I already love you.” Says with a straight face. You and Jungkook both snorts. Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Yeah? What do you say then? Want to get to know each other friend?” Jungkook asks from Taehyung.

“Hell yeah! And... Where the fuck is Hobi?” Taehyung looks elated. He has a bubbly personality. You think Jungkook is the best person to go with that. Taehyung takes a look around. Save for these few people here, cottage almost looks vacant. Then it turns a facade when Teahyung shouts through top of his lungs. The sound nearly sounding like ‘Hobi’.

Just at that glass shattering shriek. As if it is a some kind of summoning signal. The comfy living room starts to fill with people. Like cats. Sauntering. Rushing. Smiling. Complaining. Seoyeon being the first to pop her head inside the living room. Her face gleaming with pure excitement and surprise when she sees you. And she loses her shit like the last time you saw her. Now though, you know better than to be surprised. You hug her back. In the same way you would hug Key. Seoyeon is the one who pulls away first.

“How come you’re here Bae? I thought you have plans?” She grabs your shoulders. Shaking you slightly. Wondering. There goes another thing you don’t know how to answer. To be honest, you to this moment, have no idea what’s the reason you’re here instead of Liya. When you asked, Jimin shrugged you off. Said just some issues. Despite your curiosity you don’t wish to pry into his relationship. Whatever happens behind the closed doors is their problem. You’re here to help a friend. That’s it. Jimin saves you again.

“Plans change, Seoyeon.” He says with a tight-lipped smile. You nod in assent. Seoyeon takes it as an answer luckily . Lets you go reluctantly when you are pulled into a hug by J. Well, of course she is here if Jungkook is. So does Namjoon. You catch him enter the room with Hoseok and another unfamiliar woman. Woman turns out to be Namjoon’s girlfriend. Namjoon introduces her as Yoona. You exchange some nice and polite pleasantries with her. Take an immediate liking to the way she makes you feel comfortable when you’ve just met.

You take turn in saying hi to everyone present. Ignore all the long glances they give you. Especially Hoseok and Jin. As if they are beyond surprised. Ignore it when Hoseok scoffs as you thank him profusely, when he shows you, your room.

“Looks like she’s back in a good mood Jiminie.” He pats Jimin’s back before leaving you alone in the room. Leaving a scowling Jimin behind. For you to deal with.

“What was that?” You ask, gaping at the now-closed door.

“Nothing.” Jimin shakes his head.

.......................

You sit squashed between Jimin and Jungkook. Back in the cozy living room. On the couch in front of the fireplace. Everyone somehow finds a spot to sit down. Ready to listen to a briefing for the three days you’ll stay here. Or for the days they’ll stay here. Everyone is offended, finding the idea to be ridiculous. Gasping and complaining. It’s supposed to be a relaxing holiday. Not a leadership camp where there will be assigned tasks. Yet, apparently these business people can’t get through it without a proper plan. Hence, this very unannounced and unprepared meeting in the living room.

Taehyung is the only businessman who’s complaining like the rest of you. You, as Kim Liya, aren’t supposed to complain. Can’t help it though. So, you join with the ninety nine percenters here. Showing your displeasure.

“What the fuck Hobi? Why did ever I fucking agreed to come here?” The man with feline eyes, Yoongi, complains from his place. Sitting uncomfortably besides Namjoon’s girlfriend.

“Because you love me Yoongi. Now shut the fuck up, everybody. Just because you whine, I’m not going to change my plans. Listen carefully alright.” Hoseok says to Yoongi before clapping his hands. Ignores the way Yoongi asks him to go fuck himself. Ignores all your protests. Makes you chuckle. Makes Jimin chuckle. You can feel the rumble in his chest.

He has his hands around your waist. Is possessively keeping you pressed against his body. Deliberately away from Jungkook. Oh, only if you could roll your eyes to the back of your head.

See, now you think it’s dangerous to be this close to him. You need to keep your distance. He may be just doing a great job at treating you like his girlfriend. For you, however, it is becoming hard to control your fluttering tummy and pounding heart. Even when you know this is just an act, it’s becoming hard to pay attention to anything else than Park Jimin.

That’s why you try to create some distance between you. Very subtly and slowly. Jimin on the other hand, tightens his grip every time you move. There’s no escape.

“Stop fidgeting around Lil.” He whispers against your ear. Shifts in his position. His back slotting between the corner of the headrest and armrest. Drags you against his chest. Places his chin on your shoulder.

Oh fuck!

“What the hell are you doing Park?” You hiss for the hundredth time since you came here.

“What do you think? I’m keeping my girlfriend close to me.” He answers nonchalantly.

“Is this really necessary?” You whispers, being mindful to keep your voice low so Jungkook won’t overhear you.

“Yes.” Jimin says sternly.

You sigh heavily before giving up. Better play along with it if you can’t avoid it. Hence, why you completely give in. Trying to distract your racing heart and mind by paying attention to Jung Hoseok. Who’s been talking animatedly for a better five minutes now. It’s not working very effectively. Not when Jimin snakes his hands around you. Squeezes you. He is fucking overdoing. Even Jin and Taehyung are giving you weird looks. So does Hoseok. Maybe everyone else does the same. You caught Jungkook gaping at you out of the corner of his eye, two times already. And now he turns fully to look at you.

You give him an awkward smile. Trying to act normal. He reciprocates it. Turns back to Hoseok.

“Okay, so now you know what will happen to your elegant asses if you break my grandma’s very precious vases.” Hoseok says with a very wicked smile. Shit, it’s bad you have no idea what questionable things he would do to your poor ass, if you mistakenly hit your toe in a wood pedestal. You’ve not been paying attention at all. It’s Jimin’s fault.

“Seriously, Hobi, you invited us all here to give life lessons about how to be responsible and shit?” This time it’s Namjoon who whines. His girlfriend lets out an amused chuckle when Hoseok points his finger to Namjoon.

“Especially, you Namjoon-ah. Especially you. Try breaking something and you’ll know how nice I can be.” Hoseok threatens. Namjoon huffs. Rolls his eyes. It looks like Hoseok and Namjoon are more than acquaintances. Given that Hoseok invited Namjoon here with his girlfriend and even extended that invitation to Jungkook and J as well. How nice of him.

“Ugh! fucking get done with this shit ,Hyung. I’m getting bored already.” Taehyung lifts his head from the couch head rest. Man really looks sleepy. Rest of the room agrees with him. Even Jimin makes some noises of complains in your ear.

“Okay, okay, I’m getting there. So…. Moving into the plans for these three days we sta-”

“Why would we need fucking plans? Why can’t we just do whatever we want. Drink, and party.” J interrupts Hoseok before he can start his important briefing. Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, J is sitting on a vintage loveseat with Jin. Casually leaning against him. Since when they are so close? When did you miss something? “Because this way, it’s easier.” Seoyeon voluntarily answers that question. J scoffs. Scrunches up her face as Taehyung disagrees with his girlfriend. Making Seoyeon defensive. Opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

“What? It is stupid to have plans for all the fucking stu─” Taehyung leans forward to emphasize his point. Or he just obviously wants to take someone else’s side other than his girlfriend. They don’t look like a couple at all. J and Jin appear to be a better couple than them. You think it’s good that Hoseok disturbs Taehyung’s levity.

“Are you going to let me finish this today, Tae?” He quirks his brow. Taehyung gives him a long look. Yet, in the end decides it’s better to get through this meeting fast. It seems. Slumps back in the couch next to Jungkook.

“Okay, don’t ask questions at all if you have any. And don’t interrupt me. AT. ALL.” Hoseok begins again. “First things first…” He purses his lips. Looks somewhat guilty. You can tell the whole room goes into instant doubt at his expression. No one questions anything, however. “As you can see... uh... it’s only us here... like no servants, no chefs, no cleaners... so, what I’m trying to say is─” Someone interrupts him. That someone being Jungkook.

“That’s no problem we won’t make any messes. We can clean after ourselves.” He says that so innocently. But you know that’s not Hoseok wants. You know everyone else knows that it’s not what he meant. Hence, that smile of pity adorning his lips.

“That’s so nice Jungkookie.” Hoseok nods in approval. Takes a nervous glance at the rest of you.

“What is it, Hyung?” Jimin finally quirks up. Voicing his concerns loud. Scepticism laced in his voice. A beat of silence passes where you all stare into Hoseok’s face. To a point the curiosity became unbearable. Jimin takes the chance in for all of your benefit. Straightens up. Forces you to straighten up too. “Don’t fucking tell me that you want us to fucking cook, clean and do all the shits by ourselves.” Jimin screeches in your ear.

“And do the grocery shopping. There are nothing edible in here.” Hoseok answers Jimin so calmly. But makes everyone’s head whip to him in light speed. Gasps of disbelief filling the room up. Quickly turning into one white noise of complaints.

“What the fuck Hobi?”

“Seriously dude!”

“Want us to do what now?”

“Yah! I thought this was a relaxing holiday.”

“Shit I came here to live the luxury life I can’t afford. Now I have to cook? And clean?”

“I hate fucking grocery shopping.”

“Dude, there’s no single shop within a 50-kilometre radius here.”

All the complaints are entangling. It’s almost impossible to make out who’s saying what. Looks like someone threw a stone into a hive. Hoseok takes a deep breath. Stays silent for a minute, allowing his friends to throw their tantrums before shouting above all the noises.

“Shut the fuck up, y’all. Don’t fucking act like damn kids. You fools cook all your meals anyway. What’s the big problem doing it here?” He questions, placing his hands on his hips. It’s Yoona who smartly answers that question.

“That’s exactly the problem here Hobi. We do that every day, and we came here to do nothing. We came here to party and get drunk. Have sex...” Namjoon’s ears go red at that, but she ignores him. Couple of people protest of the idea of having sex part but she ignores them as well. “And relax. Do you get me, Hobi? We came here to act like we are fucking rich!” Finishes her aggravated rant. You all agree with her. Nods and unrecognizable noises or approvals.

“Well, too bad for you fuckers. Hate to break it to you but if you don’t cook, no food. If you don’t go shopping, you can eat the fucking snow. And…. If someone doesn’t get the fireworks done, there’ll be no fireworks tonight.” He claps his hands one more time. Sits back. Is done with trying to convince his friends. No argues are allowed. The room is back into an awkward silence before it goes all frantic yet again.

“You want us to set the fireworks up?” Jimin leans even more forward. Doesn’t let you go though. Annoying. Good thing you are questioning Hoseok up. No time to worry about Jimin’s hands. “Does anyone know how to do that?” You question but no one answer your question in particular.

“This is the best fucking party I’ve ever been to. Thought you were damn rich Hoseok.” Yoongi almost gets to his feet. Yoona drags him back to his seat.

“Wait. Wait, guys.” Says but that goes into deaf ears. So, she rises her voice an octave. “GUYS!” That works. All eyes are on her now. “Guys... I know we all want to kill our host, but we can’t...” Throws a murderous glance to Hoseok. Which he dismisses with an eye roll. “Unfortunately.” Yoona adds. Sighs heavily. “So, I guess since we are all here now and not like that, we can go back either─”

“Oh, I totally can go back.” Yoongi says that to Hoseok.

“You can Yoongi, but you won’t. I’ll glue your ass into the chair if you try to.” Hoseok replies. Sassily. Two cousins glare at each other for a minute before Yoona picks up again. “Yes, so since nobody would leave, I think it’s better we accept our destinies.” She looks at every person.

“You want us to drive back for groceries, Noona?” Jungkook questions her.

“Do you know what else we can do?” Yoona throws another unpleasant glance at Hoseok. He is whining now. Saying something about how everyone is stupidly dramatic. Jungkook sighs next to you.

“Ah fuck! Why do I feel like I’ve been scammed?” He mumbles. J agrees eagerly. “Right? It’s your fault Joonie, you dragged us here. Deceived us.” Says to Namjoon.

The guy’s jaw drops down. Eyes wide. “What did I do? I asked, and you guys were like over the fucking moon.” Defends himself.

J leans up. “Jungkook did. I didn’t.” Gestures to Jungkook. He gasps. “I fucking did no─” Starts but J cuts him down.

“Oh, come on, all Namjoon had do to was say that Miss Liya would be there, and you jumped headfirst.” She exposes Jungkook heartlessly, making him go pink. You whip your head to him. He did what now? Why? He stutters something about how that’s not true, as Jimin’s hand impossibly tightens around you. Divert your attention from Jungkook to him. Is this guy serious? He leans back down. You turn your head slightly to catch him burning holes into Jungkook’s already reddened face. Fucking absurd.

“All right my dear friends. Enough.” It’s Jin who finally decides he needs to get the kids under control. Jimin told you he is the oldest. Was complaining like the youngest a minute ago, however. Miraculously, has got his head up apparently. “Like Yoona said, either we will work and survive or go back.” Gestures to the door with his thumb. “Or die here.” Adds that on a second thought. A couple of whines leaves but no one’s saying no. Jin continues. “Let’s get into this again, shall we?” Leans forward and places his elbows on his knees. Interlaces his fingers together. Knits his eyebrows. Well, now, you think he looks like a CEO. For the rest of the three co-owners of RUN, you think they are still in high school. Jin looked the same a second ago. The duality.

“So, who’s going to get the groceries?” Jin questions. And for the first time, the room goes into a silence that a drop of a needle would sound like a bomb detonating. You take a look at everyone. Gasping when Jimin suddenly hides his face in your neck. Jungkook turns to Taehyung instantly. They start a very interesting conversation. Yoongi is on his phone with a deep focus. Yoona is clutching her stomach while Namjoon starts to console her. J is fucking sleeping. Seoyeon is inspecting her nails, as if this is the first time she saw them. Even Hoseok is finding something interesting on the ceiling. Being the only person without an interesting work to do, you yank Jimin’s hand into your face. What a safe place to hide.

“Yah! Seriously. You guys want to die?” Jin shrieks. Making all of you jump. Like that, the whines of complaints are back. Jin shushes you all, however. Just by glaring.

“Let’s draw names.” He says calmly. Nobody says anything. Just blinking at his handsome face. “Let’s draw names and assign chores to everyone.” Jin briskly gets up.

“But that’s not fair…” Taehyung starts.

“Shut up, Taehyung.” Jin disappears through a door.

…………………………………….

“Okay, here’s how this goes. You pick a name from here” Jin shakes the bowl with piece of papers in his hand. “It’s not like we have to clean anything up until we make a mess. So, we will figure that shit tomorrow. For now, kids, we want three people for groceries, three to cook, three to set up the fireworks. Two will manage the decorations. All good?” He questions. You badly wish to be assigned to decoration. That’s the easiest task here. Jin shakes the bowl again after you all nod.

“We all will pick names up. I’ll start and J, Joon pick a one too. Whoever’s name is on our hands, they are going to be assigned for cooking.” Everyone nods again. Apparently, have accepted the cruel fates. Rest of you watch the three of them picks papers up. Unfold. Smiles of relief wash over their faces. Which mean only one thing— none of them picked their names up.

“I got Yoongi.” J exclaims happily. Yoongi groans loudly. J’s smile quickly vanishes. “At least you don’t have to go grocery shopping now.” She says to Yoongi with the realization of she isn’t safe yet. “I got Jungkook.” Jin says, showing the paper to Jungkook. He groans slightly too. Everyone’s attention turn to Namjoon. “It’s Liya.” He says casually. It takes you almost a minute and a nudge from Jimin to realise that it’s your call.

“Me?” You question.

“Yes, you.” Namjoon answers. You slump in your seat. Cooking is too much work. Groan in complain like the rest of your assigned partners did. Jungkook, however, is back to ecstatic mood the moment Namjoon says the name ‘Liya’. “Noona.” He elbows your side. Gives a thumbs up. “I’m good at cooking don’t worry.” Says with that goofy grin. Apparently, it’s not only Jimin who’s absurd here. Jungkook is crazy too. Why would he be that happy to partner with you. How fucking random is this guy?

“Yah yah! This isn’t fair. Let’s draw that round again.” You’re blinking at Jungkook when Jimin protests. Frowning. Shakes his head violently. Others ask him to fuck off. “No, Jimin. You do what you’re assigned to do. No negotiations.” Jin finalises the cooking crew. Jimin is pouting hard. You’re gaping at him. He really is something. You’re surrounded by crazy people.

“Okay now for the fireworks.” Jin passes the bowl to Yoona. She, Yoongi, and Hoseok draw some names out.

“Ah it’s Hoseok.” Yoona practically yells in excitement. Rest join in with her.

“Suck it up you idiot.” Yoongi shows his pink gums again. Hoseok curses everyone out. Shows both of his middle fingers. Amidst the painful chore assignments, everyone has a moment of pure joy at Hoseok’s misery. Then the task is back on the run. Yoongi unfolds his paper. Looks at Jin. “It’s you” Says and shows the name written on. Jin blinks at Yoongi. “Fuck. Great.” Cups his cheeks.

“Karma is a bitch, Jin.” J says sternly. Hoseok looks at his paper too. Is very despondent. “It’s Seoyeon.” Mutters under his breath. Throws the paper away. Seoyeon’s eyes go wide.

“But I don’t know how to do that.” Points out the obvious.

“No do we Seoyeon.” Jin makes it worse. “We’ll find a way though.” Nods in assurance. Well, good for them. Hoseok gives the bowl to still wide-eyed Seoyeon. She picks one up like a robot. Passes the bowl Taehyung. He does the same and hands it to Jungkook.

“This is for groceries.” Jin announces. Seoyeon is the one who first glances at the name. Lets out a noise. “It’s Jimin.” Says timidly. Jimin whines so loudly next to you.

“Fucking hell! Can’t we trades tasks with someone else?” Wonders.

“NO Negotiations, Park Jimin.” Jin reminds. Jimin slides out of the couch on to the floor. You nudge him with your foot.

“Yah! Don’t be fucking dramatic.” You mutter when he grabs your foot and holds on to it. Brilliant. Now you have to deal with that too. You try to free your foot when Taehyung gasps.

“How fucking cruel is my destiny. It’s me. I chose my own fucking name.” He shows his cruel fate to everyone. Jungkook pats his back in pity. Unravels the next person who will face their fate. Looks at that name. Snorts. Beams. His whole face lightening up. Starts laughing hardly. His pats on Taehyung’s back turn into slaps.

“Who is it?” Yoona perks up. Some other people too. Including Jimin who’s still holding on to your foot. Jungkook finds it hard to calm down. Is buzzing with happiness.

“J… It... it’s J…” Manages through his giggles. “Aahh... This is finally fun.” Shakes a very bewildered Taehyung by his neck.

“Oh, you fucking asshole!” J almost reaches him when Jin grabs from her hoodie.

“We want him alive, please.” He says as he makes a scowling and pouting J sit back. Jungkook holds the bowl to you. There’s no need to look at the last two names. You take it anyway. Pick both papers but don’t look at them.

“Well, it’s obviously you two who are left. So, it’s you on the decoration duty.” You say to the Yoona and Namjoon. They exchange an excited look.

“See, this is the destiny.” Namjoon says to Yoona very dramatically. She wipes an imaginary tear off. Most of you roll your eyes’. Yoona nods in agreement with Namjoon for a second. Then she freezes. Something clicks on her mind.

“Wait, wait.” She holds a hand up.

“What?” Namjoon quirks.

“You’re clumsy as hell baby. You’re going to double my workload.” She says. Namjoon gasps in disbelief.

“Can we exchange partners?” Yoona looks hopefully at everyone.

“NO!” That’s the first time everyone agrees into one thing. Or not. Jimin is all down for the idea. Perking up happily and hugging your leg.

………………………………..

The preparations for the midnight party are going well according to the plans. You have to wait until Jimin and others are back with the groceries to start preparing your meals. You, Yoongi, and Jungkook are given the freedom to choose whatever you want to cook. So, you chose Jjimdak paired with rice and some other side dishes. Yoongi and Jungkook apparently are very aware of what they are doing. So do you, but you’re not the best. Baking is your forte. Cooking is not. You can manage though.

The three of you just kill time in kitchen, getting to know each other. Joking and laughing. Bonding. Min Yoongi is a great guy to your judgment. Doesn’t like physical affections at all. Nor does he like waking up in the morning. Who does? Is lazy like a cat but works hard when he puts his heart and mind into something. You like him. You already like Jungkook. He lets you know that he or J finished his essay. You know it’s J who did.

“You are a vlogger?” Jungkook leans over the kitchen island. You do the same. You both gaping at Yoongi.

“What?” The guy in attention asks as his ears go adorably red. “Wow....” You and Jungkook chime in. “That’s fucking amazing. What kind of vlogs do you make?” You add the last part. Yoongi waves his hand off.

“Oh, c’mon, what’s so amazing there? You own a damn business, Miss CEO.” He points out. Oh, shoot, you always forget that. It’s your turn to wave it off. Shrug it away.

“Tell us what kind of vlogs you do Mr. Min. We wanna know.” Ask instead. Look at Jungkook to see if he agrees. He does with a firm nod.

“Aahh... Mainly travel vlogs. But I do other things too. Like daily vlogs. Studio tou—” Jungkook’s gasp is what disturbs Yoongi. “What studio?” He is genuinely curious, and so are you.

“Photography?” Yoongi raises his brow.

“Wow....” You and Jungkook chime in again. “You are a vlogger and a photographer? How many subscribers do you have? Do you have fans? Did you study photography? Is it a side hustle?” Jungkook is practically standing now.

“Jungkook..” You try to make him sit back and stop being so nosy. But Yoongi chuckles and fishes for his phone. Shows you his channel. You both peer at the screen. Eyes going wide.

“15 fucking million?” You’re in sync with Jungkook again. “You have 15 fucking million subscribers?” You gasp. Are on your feet too. You and Jungkook both standing and leaning over the counter. Crowding Yoongi’s space. “I’m uh... Closer to sixteen now actually.” Yoongi states with a bashful expression.

“Holy fuck, Hyung. Do you work alone?” Jungkook asks again while you sit back. Blinking in disbelief. Yoongi says something about having a crew. Of course, it’s a huge channel, he would need a staff to handle that. You grab from Jungkook’s hoodie to make him sit.

“Please hire me too. I’m good at editing. If you do, I can drop out of the university.” Jungkook says with a straight face. You ask Yoongi to hire you too. He snorts. Which turns into a laugh. So, you all laugh. Keep conversing about life and stuff. Listening to Yoongi’s best vlogs and Jungkook’s nosy roommate.

Others left on the cottage have started their assigned works right away. You hear the sounds of annoyance and complains from the backyard. Hear something clatter and shatter from the living room. Makes you worried for Namjoon’s ass. Yet, nothing happens. Fortunately. Namjoon is quite safe, even when you are starting to cook finally. Jimin, J and Taehyung are back with groceries enough for a whole week.

“Why would you buy so many water bottles? There’s clean water here.” Jin peers into the still unsorted grocery bags. You and Jungkook are taking out what you need to prepare your dinner. Jimin is sitting on a kitchen island stool. Taehyung next to him. The kitchen is too crowded and is putting Yoongi on the edge.

“Yah! Will you lot go away? Are you finished with the fireworks Jin?” He looks up from the recipe he has been looking in his phone. “Nope.” Jin casually answers.

“Then what the fuck are you doing here? Go back.” Yoongi waves his hand. In a motion shooing Jin away. The bugger isn’t even budging, however.

“I’m done with that two. Hoseok wants to launch Seoyeon into the sky.” He informs as taking a seat on the other side of Jimin. Taehyung snorts loudly when everyone gives him a judgmental look. He mouths a ‘what?’. Unbelievable.

“Well, I don’t care, Seokjin. Go away, and take these two with you. And maybe you can launch my cousin into the sky as a favour to me.” Yoongi gestures at Jimin and Taehyung. Jimin instantly grabs the kitchen island. As if Jin will drag him across the floor. “I am not going anywhere Hyung.” He states, catching your eye. Is he here because of you? You roll your eyes.

“Seriously Jimin? You’re crowding the space. Go away. Shoo. Shoo.” You walk over, waving a napkin at him. Jimin just watches you approaching. That familiar glint on his eyes. Challenging you. You should’ve expected it when he turns around to face you. Grabs your hand. Gives you only a second to process. “I.” Yanks you to him. Your eyes go wide. “Will.” Turns you around. Your mouth drop open. “Not.” Pulls you onto his lap. “Go anywhere.” Says in your ear. You squeak. Of course he would.

Heat starts to rush into your face. He is really impossible. And is certainly overdoing. It’s confirmed when Jin shouts a ‘Hey’ along with you. You’re mortified. Especially, when Jimin turns around on his stool with you still on his lap. Forcing you to face the people on the room. You look at Jungkook and Yoongi with your face on fire. Yoongi ignores your silly games. Sighs heavily before paying his attention to the recipe back. Jungkook looks you in the eye, however. Face void of emotions, but awkwardly smiles when he catches you looking.

God! Even with being shy, you like this. Like the way Jimin just casually hides his face in the crook of your neck. In front of everyone. Like how his hands protectively curls around you. Your brain is going haywire. Heart starting to pound against your ribcage. Here you go again. You need to put distance.

You pat Jimin’s hand. “Okay, do whatever you want. Just let me go Jimin. I need to help.” You mutter that into his ear. Turning your head uncomfortably. Jimin gives you a look. For a minute, it appears he won’t listen. “Let go Jimin.” You say bit sternly again. Raise your brows. And practically pry his hands off you. He keeps you on his hold for another long minute. Then frees you. You swear you see something flicker in his eyes. Like hurt. Is furrowing his brows deeply. There’s no reason to be hurt, however. So, you ignore that and start washing vegetables following Yoongi’s instructions.

Jimin doesn’t go away. Stays in his place. So do Jin and Taehyung. Bugs the life out of you. Poke their heads into everything. Taehyung and Jin do. Jimin is awfully quiet. You decide to let it go. Think he’ll come around.

There was an uneasy tension in the room after the first minute when you retrieved back to your work from Jimin’s lap. Feels like your fault. So, you do your best to make small talks, jokes and keep the conversation flows. It takes some time but, in the end, you’re laughing hard again. So hard that you have to press your forehead into Jungkook’s arm or chest to control yourself. Hands preoccupied with cutting vegetables for side dishes. Jungkook laughs too. Everyone does, including Yoongi sometimes. Everything is back to fun.

Only one who doesn’t is the blonde man. You would’ve been more worried if you had noticed. But you don’t. Not at least until you’re back in your room. Not until he simply asks you to use the shower first and then leaves you alone.

Oh, did something happen?

……………………………

The dinner that you poured your heart and soul into went rather well. Everyone praised you. You passed all the compliments to Jungkook and Yoongi. Because it’s them who really did the hard work. You just did what they asked you to. Now the dinner was over, and everyone is cozied up back in the living room, music flowing through the giant speakers. Yoongi had brought them apparently. You sit on the couch again. Sipping red wine. The plan was you’ll drink but Jimin won’t. He has to drive back. In the middle of the night. There’s snow falling. Gives you a bad feeling about leaving early. Leaving this cozy place into the cold winter.

Jimin is in the other corner of the room. Is in black slacks. White button down shirt, untucked. Sleeves rolled up. Chelsea boots. Rings adorning his fingers. That god damn earing is back. You noted that he doesn’t wear it always, but you do like it too much when he does. Blonde hair groomed well and shining under the gold hue in the cottage.

Somewhere between your meal preparation and returning to the room, something definitely happened. Jimin has been very moody for quite while. Haven’t talked to you for a sometime now. Or haven’t talked on good terms. Just a few words exchanged here and there. See, now you want to act nonchalant and not give a fuck. You came here as a good friend. And are doing him a favour. He shouldn’t be treating you this way. He does. And instead of minding your own business, you’re so worried.

He even disregarded you when you asked him if he likes your dress. The dress you brought. The dress as in, champagne colour. Long sleeves. Covers up to ankles but has a long slit up to your upper thigh. Has a deep cut neckline to show just the right amount of cleavage. Fits you perfectly in your curves. You felt beautiful in it. Was it so wrong to expect a compliment from Jimin? Why do you expect that anyway? Why did you feel a pang in your chest when he just dismissed you?

He is preposterous. For acting that way. Not giving a second of his attention for you but doubling over with laughter when Hoseok says something. You can’t fathom what’s wrong. Why is he giving cold shoulder to you? Earlier in the day he was all over you. Practically clinging to your side. Sure, he must’ve been doing a great acting. But still confuse you that he suddenly isn’t? What went wrong?

You are forced to avert your gaze away when someone plops down next to you. That someone being Seoyeon as she casually leans her head in your shoulder. Relaxes. You just let her. Focus on Jimin. It’s becoming tiring now.

“I hate Taehyung.” She blurts that out completely out of the blue.

“Huh?” You try your best to take a look at her face.

“I hate my boyfriend Liya. I hate him.” She repeats. You can’t see her face. Her hair covers her face completely. Yet, you can hear the hurt in her voice. Fuck, this is something that the package doesn’t include. You’re supposed to be Jimin’s girlfriend and that’s it. This thing with Seoyeon shouldn’t be your problem. Especially, when you don’t know what you should tell her now.

“Um… why is that?” You cautiously and uncomfortably ask. Eyes wandering to Jimin back. Need him to barge in and save you. He catches you looking but disregard you cruelly. There’s that pang again.

“You know why?” Seoyeon brings your attention back to her. How could you know?

“Um... well... is that because... you know?” You are not sure what you’re talking about. Funny how she nods. You let out a sneaky breath. Good. You’re doing just fine. Seoyeon straightens up suddenly. Is very drunk already. Points at Taehyung having a happy conversation with J and Jungkook.

“See? See how happy he is? Why can’t he be that happy with me?” Her voice sounds whiny. You take a look at Taehyung. Then back at Seoyeon. She looks like she is about to cry. You’re starting to panic. Oh God, you have no idea how to console her. On top of everything you feel shit to know that Taehyung cheats and you can’t tell her. So, you just open your mouth without a word leaving.

“I try my best you know?” She is asking from you. “Try my best to be the one for him. But he just doesn’t care. Why? Why he can’t… just…” Her voice cracks. Oh shit, shit, shit. She is going to cry. You don’t know what to do. You put your hand on her thigh tentatively.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry now. I… mean... what I mean is... you know... if he can’t see your worth that’s his problem. You… you shouldn’t be ruining your day thinking about that.” What are you talking about. Seoyeon gives you a deadpan look.

“Like it’s that easy.” At least her teared-up eyes are dry now.

“I know it’s not easy Seoyeon but─”

“Why are you calling me by my full name?” She looks at you curiously. You throw another look at Jimin. He isn’t at where he was a minute ago. Oh, you need him now. You clear your throat. Are about to say something you’re not sure of when she starts again.

“Well, yeah whatever, I shouldn’t cry. That’s the moral of the story.” Smiles very drunkenly. Another breath of relief leaves past your lips. You want her to go. She doesn’t. So, you cheer for her. Gulp down the remainder of your wine. Use that as an excuse to leave for a refill.

“Wait?” She interrupts you. You sit back, whining mentally. “How are you back to be so lovey dovey? I mean that’s cringy as hell dude but I’m happy. But also so surprised to see Jimin all over you. Did something happen? Like did you fight to a point of breakup and then realized you can’t live without each other. Should I try that tactic with my man?” Seoyeon looks back at Taehyung. You, however, is dumbfounded. What does she mean? She is surprised to see Jimin all over you? God, you don’t know how to answer these questions.

It’s becoming unbearable at this point. Maybe, at a different time where your mind isn’t so preoccupied with wondering what’s wrong with Park Jimin. At a time where you don’t feel so restless. You would have managed to come up with something clever and plausible. Not now though. You want out. Want to find out what you did wrong that Jimin is back to avoiding you.

Seoyeon is still hopefully looking at you. You sigh heavily. The first thing comes to your mind is communication. The thing everyone says to be very important. So, you lecture her about good communication. Something you heard from a movie. Finally, excuse yourself for more alcohol. Leaving behind a Seoyoen who’s lost in her head.

Good communication, your foot. You need to find Park Jimin. Even though you don’t want to seem caring. Because, why would you care? Why do you feel like you need to apologise? Fix things. You don’t want to. But still, you will.

That was your pure intention when you spot him entering the kitchen with Taehyung. Just as you put the bottle of wine back. They stumble inside. You catch Jimin’s eyes. Keep your gaze without wavering. They both stop middle in the kitchen. An awkward silence falls. Only for a moment. Taehyung breaks the silence with an unnecessarily loud noise.

“My best friend’s beautiful girlfriend….” He yells. Makes Jimin winces next to him. Practically sprints to you when Jimin grabs him by the shirt collar.

“Yah! Let me properly welcome my best friend’s girlfriend dude.” Taehyung complains as he wiggles in Jimin’s grasp. It’s not been long since the drinks started to appear. You find it beyond hilarious that there are people already babbling like Kim Taehyung.

“Fucking lightweights.” Jimin gives you a simple explanation. You nod accepting. Jimin lets Taehyung go after a couple minutes of struggling. He makes a beeline towards you. Wraps his hands around you from your side. Squeezes and sways you. Jimin heaves a sigh.

“Don’t fucking assault my girlfriend dude.” He has to drag Taehyung into a stool to save you. Taehyung is back to complaining. You giggle. If it weren’t for the sudden change of Jimin’s behaviour towards you. You might say this is one of the best days in your life. You hate this feeling. The feeling of restlessness at his aloof. You curiously watch Jimin silently fills a glass of water. Hands it to Taehyung despite his protests. Stare intensely at his face. As if that’ll give away some signals.

“This party is so fucking boring man. Isn’t it? Yah! It’s like we are at a business party. Why does everyone talk within themselves.” Taehyung puts the glass back on the counter with a bang. Watches between you and Jimin, waiting for either of you to agree. But when you don’t, he further clarifies his point.

“I mean, look at us. What were you doing all alone here future Mrs. Park?” He asks you. You point at your wine glass. “See, drinking alone. Why did you let this pretty woman drink alone Jiminie?” He asks Jimin. Jimin gives you a look. You shrug your shoulders. Taehyung bangs his fist on the counter. Startles you both then whine in pain.

“Ow... fuck... that hurt.” He waves his hand. Jimin scoffs.

“Good thing you still can feel pain.” Rubs his forehead in frustration. Taehyung ignores him.

“Well, let’s play a game.” Says excitedly. Already in his feet and leaving before you or Jimin can respond.

You sigh heavily. Now, finally you are alone with Park Jimin. So, you turn to him slowly. Nervously. He is already watching you.

“What is it?” Questions.

Well, it’s now or never.

“Why the fuck are you acting like I did something wrong?” You cross your arms under you chest. Trying to appear confidence. You may be feeling like you’re at wrong. But he doesn’t need to know that. You think his eyes instantly wander to your cleavage but he is looking away already.

“Like what?” Jimin regards you with curiosity. You gape at him.

“Like, why are you giving me a cold shoulder?”

“Why do you think I’m giving you cold shoulder?” He knits his eyebrows. You almost think you really might’ve read things wrong. Maybe, you’re expecting something you shouldn’t.

“I... I don’t know. You were like all over me when we came here and now you won’t even come near me.” Oh, fuck. You shouldn’t have said that. It sounds all wrong. There’s a silence fall down.

“ I thought you were uncomfortable when I did that. You were fidgeting around every time I’m around you.”

You take a minute to let that sink in. Well, you are uncomfortable when he is around. Just because he makes you tingle all over. Makes your sanity slip through your fingers. Makes your panties wet. It’s dangerous. Wait? Then why are you so worried when he doesn’t do that. Shouldn’t you be relieved?

“Huh?” Jimin pushes you. Takes a step forward. Suddenly, your mouth is dry.

“Well, that was because I thought uh... I thought─” You start but he interrupts you.

“You thought what Lil?” He asks.

“I...I thought that… uh...” You don’t know the answer yourself. Can’t say the real reason. Jimin shakes his head. Closes the gap between you entirely. The tip of his Chelsea boots touches your heels. Surprises you by placing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. You shiver. Doesn’t take his hand away. Sighs. There’s a certain softness in his eyes. You can melt under that. You are melting.

“You know what Spring roll? I think I get it. You don’t want me to touch you because you don’t. And that’s okay. It’s okay if you aren’t comfortable. I won’t do that again. It’s not okay for me touch you without your consent.” Takes his hands away.

Oh, no. That’s not the case at all. You want to correct him, but words are tangled in your mouth. He takes your silence as agreement. Keeps his gaze on you for a moment.

You need to tell him that’s not it. Good communication, remember? Then what would you tell? The truth? You rake your brain for a good excuse. Believable one. Your brain is blank apparently. And before you could process something else you are robbed of that opportunity. By Jungkook’s voice booming across the kitchen.

“Noona... we are doing noraebang.”

You snap your head to him. Smile softly. Jimin chuckles and steps away.

…………………..

There’s no noraebang machine. The alternative is to connect someone’s phone to the speakers. Play some music and sing along. There’s a mic though. And because drunk Taehyung is very creative, he comes up with a game. There’s no lyrics displaying. It’s blind karaoke. You need to recognize the song and sing along. Anyone who’s failed to do so need to take a shot. Everybody, apparently, is on the board. The problem is, there is no way in hell you would recognize any of these songs. You are already accepting defeat even before the game properly starts.

The first contestant is Jungkook. You watch him clears his throat when Namjoon happily plays a music in his phone. The sound echoes around through the speakers. You don’t recognize it. But most people here do. Yoona even starts to jump up and down in her seat. Jungkook furrows his brows. It’s already thirty seconds into the song, but he is still at a lost.

“That’s it.” Jin states.

“Take a shot.” Taehyung pours a shot.

“Yah! That’s not fucking fair, let me think.” Jungkook, offended and confused, takes a look around the room. Poor boy has no one on his side.

“It’s very fair. You need to recognize it within two fucking seconds.” Hoseok shows two fingers up while Taehyung forces a shot through Jungkook’s throat. Jungkook whines about how the rules aren’t clear, but nobody gives a shit. He gives up. Comes to the seat next to you and plops down.

“It’s not fair….is it?” Looks at you with a pout. You shake your head. “If you want to feel better, I’m not going to win a single round kookie. You’re good.” You pat his arm. He is in black from head to toe. His tattoos are covered inside his black shirt sleeve. Normally wild hair pushed away from his forehead. He looks exceptionally good. You must be crazy to keep your gaze all the time on the man in the white shirt. Can’t take your eyes. Maybe, it’s because there’s an unresolved problem between you. You feel this unsettled urge to go and talk to him. Have no courage, however. What will you say?

Think it’s better when it’s his chance now. Something to distract you. Jimin takes the mic. Keeps a burning gaze on Namjoon when he plays a different music. It’s impossible to guess a song by its first two seconds. Jimin failing just like Jungkook is the proof of that.

“Yah!! This shit is not fair man. The music didn’t even start.” Jimin yells. Running away from Taehyung who’s after him with a shot in his hand.

“It did.” Namjoon defends.

“No, it didn’t.” Jungkook is on Jimin’s side. So are you. That’s why you nod furiously.

“It totally did. I heard it.” Yoongi lazily quips with a reddened face. There’s a possibility he was dreaming but then Hoseok and Yoona are also vowing for Namjoon. All it takes is a minute for these drunk people to start arguing over some silly matter. Jimin is still darting around that loveseat. Taehyung chasing him.

“Ah... just take the shot and sit your ass down Jimin-ah.” Jin bellows frustratingly. Is sitting again with J. You give them a sceptical look before J jumps onto her feet. Starts chasing your pretend boyfriend. How unfair? You twitch in your seat. Watching the run and chase happening in the room. Laughter and cheers following. You want to take Jimin’s side. Think he would not like that, however. So, you just watch it when Jungkook joins the game. Finally, they along with Jungkook catch Jimin. Forces that shot into him.

He’s not supposed to be drinking.

……………………………………….

The game continues afterward. It goes from wild to berserk quickly. Jin, Hoseok, Yoongi, Yoona, and very surprisingly Taehyung proves to you that two seconds is enough to recognize a song. The rest of you are just bad it appears. Still, no one is as bad as you. The only person who drowned five shots already. You’re wobbling on your feet. Now matching with Kim Taehyung’s level of drunkenness. You have no idea since when the game changed. But now you’re into singing. Like really singing with bad pitches and slurry words. Taehyung and Jimin end a song. Why would you be surprised to know Jimin can sing? Of course, he can. You clap as loudly as you can when J steals the show. Drags Jin with her. His ears are too red.

For the first time since Jimin’s aloofness, you’re drunk enough to enjoy your night for real. Worries washed away by the alcohol.

“Noona... you need to sing too. Don’t fucking chicken out.” Jungkook walks up to you with a water bottle in his hand. Well, only if you could do that. You shake your head drunkenly.

“I fucking don’t know any of these songs.” It’s the hundredth time you’re saying it. Are becoming annoyed now.

“How’s that even possible?” Taehyung interjects. Sitting on the floor. Jimin sits right in front of your legs. He is drunk. He wasn’t supposed to drink. But here he is. Eyes droopy. Well, plans change sometimes. That’s what he said. Is finally, acknowledging you. Not being back to being all touchy and possessive. Still, you’re happy that he is having fun at least. You pay your attention back to Jungkook and Taehyung.

“It is possible because I don’t. If you want me to sing….” You look around with your hazy vision to find your bag. Find it placed on the coffee table. Ask Jungkook to pass it to you. Fumble inside your bag and leave a noise in giddy. Pull your phone out. The one from your real world. It’s just you’re drunk. Too drunk that the things aren’t processing in your head. And it’s too bad that you’ve already handed the phone to Jungkook before Jimin’s drunken mind can figure what’s happening. He is too late when he suddenly jumps to his feet, trying to stop you. Jungkook is already inspecting your phone curiously.

“This is your phone?” He asks you.

“Uh huh, my other one actually. I have a second one. Jimin bought me that.” You go back to take that one out when your bag is snatched away from you.

“Yah!” You yell as you take Jimin furrowing at you. What’s his problem now? Have no time to know. Jungkook perks up again, curiously.

“Okay, so what’s you gonna play?” He gives you the phone back. Shrugs. You excitedly start to go through your playlists. This will not be karaoke since you’ll be singing along to an original song. But who cares? These drunk people here will be happy to listen to a vulture. You randomly pick a song up. Give the phone back.

“Got it. Haven’t heard this one.” Jungkook mutters under breath as he gets to his feet. Of course, he hasn’t heard that one.

“Oh yeah, that’s becua─” The rest of your words are muffled as a palm suddenly clasps over your mouth. You make some incoherent sounds.

“Nothing. That’s because there are so many songs Jungkook.” Jimin tells to Jungkook without looking at him. His eyes on you. Jungkook shrugs again and walks away.

………………………………

Jimin and you will have to find another alternative. He can’t drive to save his life. He has little demons as his friends. Maybe, he would ask you to sleep here and will find an excuse later. That seems to be the best idea as Jimin watches you start to sing. He’s surprised that your phone is compatible with the speakers. It is compatible. And you almost ruined everything. There’s still a risk. He wants you to get done with singing fast. Wants your phone back with you. Safe. Is feeling bad about it, when you’re giggling adorably.

He’s been frustrated for some time now. Even when he was laughing and talking with his friends. Somewhere between his relationship and business, Jimin has learned how to pull off a perfect poker face. A facade. No one can see through it. Everyone thinks he is okay. But then you don’t. Probably he is lowering his guard down around you. He doesn’t like the idea that you thought he was avoiding you. Because he wasn’t, right?

It’s just that you’ve benn on the edge all day. Trying to get away from him whenever he was close to you. It really hurt to see the look on your face earlier at the kitchen. You were really uncomfortable. That’s the only reason why he let you go. The reason why he gives you your space even though it stings. You don’t do that with Jungkook. Are so comfortable around him. That makes Jimin reel. Why do you do that only to Jimin?

All the while, now he is secretly a bit happy to know at least he is affecting you. His indifference worries you. Makes you want to reach him and question. That’s good. It would’ve been more hurtful if you didn’t care at all.

Jimin blows a breath out before grabbing another shot. He is already drunk anyway. Gulps it down as you start to sing.

“There you go girl.” Seoyeon joins you, swaying her hips. Both Taehyung and Jungkook are on the dance floor as well. Jimin doesn’t know what song you’re singing. Of course, he doesn't. Funny thing is, he knows Jungkook doesn't either. But the bugger is enjoying it to the fullest while you’re singing the lyrics to him. Your pitch is terrible. It’s a good thing that song is playing in the background. Jimin catches something about a ‘friendship’ and ‘ruining a friendship’.

Oh, here comes that unsettling feeling again. To see you so happy with Jungkook. Why is he being like this? Why does he feel like he shouldn’t have brought you here? Could’ve kept you to himself if he didn’t. But then you don’t want to be around him.

Maybe he should just go away, somewhere alone. He is just about to leave when you turn your head towards him. Catching him watching. A huge grin breaks on your face. Jimin’s heart swoons at that. You’re grinning because you noticed him. Jimin.

You are uncomfortable around him right?

Then why are you so happy to see him? Why did you feel the lack of his presence?

It’s the music now. You take that time to leave Jungkook. Your shoulders doing a little wiggle. Hips swaying and walking towards him. Fuck, you look goddamn gorgeous in that dress. He knew you would, even before you put it on. The skin visible through the slit of your dress is glows under the ambient light. Your cleavage makes his brain malfunction. Like always.

And then you’re in front of him. Singing the lyrics to him. He can hear them perfectly now.

“Jenny darling, you’re my best friend

I’ve been doing bad things that you don’t know about”

His heart is beating violently. Breathing is getting shallower. You come even closer to him. The smile never leaves your inviting plump lips. Maybe, just maybe Jimin read your uncomfortableness wrong.

“I wanna ruin our friendship

We should be lovers instead

I don’t know how to say this

Cause you’re really my dearest friend”

He can’t do this anymore. Jimin finds it impossible. Someone needs to praise him for holding back for such long. He wants to steal your breath. Wants to taste that alcohol on your lips. Maybe, just maybe you were trying to get away because he makes you feel the same way like you do for him.

“Jenny, take my hand

Cause we’re more than friends

I will follow you until the end”

Did you say Jimin or Jenny. Why does his brain play tricks with him. He can feel your breath. You’re just inches away from him. Why can’t he have you? Your eyes are like magic. Maybe, just maybe you won’t protest if he kiss you. You’ll give in to him like you did the last time.

“Oh, we should be lovers instead”

He is going to kiss you. He will. Cross the line? Well, fuck it. He almost touches your cheek and tilt your head when Hoseok suddenly bellows.

“Yah! Yah! It’s time. The fireworks.”

Fuck! He is so sure you were anticipating that kiss. He knows you wanted him to kiss you. He read your signs wrong.

………………………

You chant in unison with your friends. Counting down the time.

“10

9

8”

Jimin finally stands next to you. Providing you some relief against the cold. You all are in the backyard. Ready for the new year. Hoseok will be the one to set off the fireworks. You don’t trust them. People who were on charge with the fireworks. There’s a high possibility they’ll burn the cottage down. Kill all of you in the process. Yet, it’s still happening.

“7

6

5”

Just like you, Jimin is obviously drunk. You don’t know what he plans to do afterward. Guess he has a plan. He is slightly wavering on his feet. Chanting down the numbers. Finally, his mood seems to be lightened. Or is just drunk. Earlier, while you were singing, you almost believed he is going to kiss you. There was fire inside his eyes. Then he didn’t. You shouldn’t be disappointed.

“4

3

2”

But you’re disappointed..

“1....”

“Happy fucking new year you, shitholes.” Taehyung is the first who shouts.

“What a beautiful new year wish!” Jin glares at Teahyung. He just dismisses it. Just hugs Jungkook, who is closest to him. The rest join in with the wishes. It takes Hoseok a minute to launch the fireworks into the sky. But eventually he does. You’re glad that they actually go straight up. To the sky. Blast up. Lightening the world up. Creates magic. You take the sight in with awe. Head still slightly spinning. Then without even you knowing you’re watching Jimin instead of the sky. His face is softly bathed in a luminous, purplish light. Your chest is squeezing. Why?

You are transfixed. Unable to look away from his face. Couldn’t even turn away when he averts his gaze to you. Raises his brows slightly but you still don’t turn away. You simply can’t. Just keep staring into his face. He does the same. After earlier, now you find it not possible to keep your gaze respectful. Not letting it drop down to his lips. So, you do. His plump lips. He wets them. You watch as his tongue darts out and disappears. Leaves his lips glistening. Shining. In a shimmering blue.

“Yah! The taken people here... Share your damn new year kisses.” J’s voice startles you. You didn’t realise that the world has momentarily faded away. Fireworks are still going on. You feel fairly sober now. Maybe it’s the cold air. Your eyes land on J. She is clapping excitedly while Namjoon and Yoona share their kiss. Urges Taehyung and Seoyoen to do the same. Taehyung is obviously showing reluctance but soon is waiting with wide eyes when Seoyeon places her lips on his.

Just as J turns to you, you shift your gaze to Jimin. Panicking. They want you to kiss. KISS!

Sure, you would like that but Jimin wouldn’t. What should you do? You nervously peer between his eyes. Fuck! You can’t read him this time. He probably doesn’t want to. It’s too much. You hear J and someone else saying something. It’s all a white noise.

“Go on... C’mon... Fucking kiss.” You don’t know who says that. Should you fake a stomach ache? Or should you throw up? Faint..... Jimin takes a step forward. You suck in a breath. Hold it. Is he going to do it. Another step. Fuck he is going to do it. Jimin extends his arm. Curls it around your waist. Pulls you to his body. You’re going to die. Because your heart is going mad. Madly fast.

Jimin leans forward. You don’t dare to let that breath down. He comes closer. “It’s just a kiss—a peck? Will you be okay?” Whispers against your lips. Part of your excitement dies.

A peck?

See, he doesn’t want to. But he’s still the one asking. So, you nod. Hide that disappointment behind a soft smile. Are still buzzing however. Kiss or peck, your already are like butter. Jimin nods too. Takes his time. Feels like eons. Then finally closes the gap between your lips. You feel his breath first. Tingling your lips. Then his pillowy lips are on yours. Presses. A shock radiates from there. Travels down your body. Is just a peck but ignites a fire in your belly. Makes it do a strange flip. Makes your brain void of any thoughts. That’s why you stupidly press harder when he tries to back up.

You would be so embarrassed in another time. For now, you want more. There’s something inside you screams for more. So, you whimper. Even though he isn’t pulling away anymore. He doesn’t. You think there’s a split second of hesitation from his side. But then he is the one pressing harder. He is the one who suddenly parts his lips to catch yours in-between. He is the one cups your face and tilts your face to side. You just reciprocate by throwing your hands around his neck. And it’s him who starts dragging his tongue across your bottom lip. Requesting permission to enter. Who you are to deny?

The way his tongue instantly snakes inside your mouth steals your breath away. A shameless moan erupts from your mouth. You do your best to keep up with his pace. He is going feral. Is sucking hard on your lips. You do the same. Tongue is furiously lapping against yours. You do the same. Even bites down on your bottom lip. There’s a pool of desire creating inside your underwear. He is kissing you like his life depends on it. How good it feels. You can’t breath, but still don’t want to pull away. You’re on fire. You want more.

“We said a new year kiss.”

“Yah! Stop it you....”

“Holy fuck! Are they gonna fuck in front of us? I’m down.”

“Jimin-ah”

Someone practically screeches next to you. The world comes back into focus. This time however, you don’t part like you are electrocuted. Instead, Jimin lets you go slowly. His lips red and wet. Chest heaving for breath. There’s no any difference on your side. Both of you still stare at each other. Ignore the comments your friends are making.

You kissed!

.....................

You’re shivering; even after it’s been more than hours since you’ve kissed. Trembling. Restless. Feel frustrated even. You’re standing in the kitchen alone. All of your friends finally have retreated into their destined rooms. It’s 3 am. You and Jimin really didn’t get a chance to discuss your plans. All these time, amidst the hustle of your drunken friends, Jimin treated you normally. Nothing more nothing less. Was just there. And then practically dragged Taehyung into his room with Jungkook’s help.

That’s when you entered the kitchen. Been here since then. The entire cottage is drowning in silence now. Your mind isn’t. Still, after hours, you want more. God, you want Jimin. It’s a feral desire. The memory of his lips sucking on your tongue and lips fuel that. Maybe, you should use the bathroom now. Should take this frustration out of you. You rub your thighs together uncomfortably. It’s a miracle you’ve survived until now.

You nod. Finally in a decision. You’ll take care of yourself. Like you always do. Turn around to leave. Only to gasp loudly and lose your shit to find a shadowy figure in the door way.

“Holy fuck!!!” You clasp your chest immediately as your soul leaves your body.

“Sorry.” Jimin immediately strides forward. Letting you see it’s him. “What the fuck Jimin. I nearly fucking died.” You scowl. He chuckles lightly.

You didn’t really expect for him to join you. Or to look for you. Now when he does, you don’t know what to do next. Your plans are ruined. This is torture. You’re horny because of this man. You wanted to do something about it by yourself. And then he interrupts it. You’re stuck with him again. Which means you’ll be constantly horny.

The air is filled with dead silence. He isn’t saying anything. For a moment. Then he breaks the silence.

“Lil... Uh about ear—”

“Don’t” You don’t mean to snap but you do. Causing Jimin to abruptly stops and gape at you. Silence again.

“Don’t what?” He mumbles. You don’t want him to apologise again. For anything. Don’t want to hear him say he was drunk. Say he crossed a line again. You want to bask in your bubble. You always found this fascination. There’s a reason why you were always so affected. Despite everything, you know you like being around him. He makes your heart beat fast. Makes you so nervous you can’t look him in the eye. Makes you feel all sorts of fucked up. But you like it. Then he doesn’t. You don’t want him to say it aloud. Just want to hide behind a bathroom door and get yourself off to his memories. You’ll be guilty when you’re less horny. In the morning.

“Don’t what Lil?” Then he is pushing you again. Strides closer to you. You sigh. Hard. Lean your ass against the kitchen island. “Don’t apologise Jimin. I don’t want to hear it.” Finally get your words out. Know he is about to reply but this is your chance to clear the misunderstandings. “And I wasn’t uncomfortable around you because I didn’t like it. I thought it was too much you know?” You turn your head to look at him. Relieved you finally got an acceptable answer.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, mirrors your earlier actions. Leans against the kitchen island next to you. So close that your arms are pressed together. It’s sending bolts down your body.

“What’s too much?” He asks again. You don’t like it when he does that. And you hate it how his breath is hitting your ear. God, you can’t. Another rub in your thighs. Very subtle. Praying he doesn’t notice.

Calm down! Get a fucking grip.

“Being that clo—”

“Why are you so comfortable around Jungkook then?”

Oh!

Are you? Well, he doesn’t make you want to jump his bones all the time. You can’t say that aloud. So, you decide you should point out him not having a girlfriend. But he doesn’t let you when he suddenly straightens up. Turns around. Crowds your space, trapping you between the island and his warm body.

“Because he isn’t too much?” Questions. This time against your mouth. You need to go. You’re loosing it.

“I didn’t say you’re too much.”

“Then what’s too much?” He leans even more forward. His breath tingles your lips when he talks. Eyes drops down to your lips. Your breath hitch. And so you are becoming annoyed. He is making you suffer on purpose isn’t he? Well, fuck it.

“This.” You lower your voice. “This is Jimin. You being this clo—”

“Fuck, I want to kiss you. Want to kiss you again so fucking badly. You taste good you know? Lil... You taste so fucking good.” Jimin grips the counter by either side of you. As if to ground himself. Eyes still not leaving your lips. A surprised whimper leaves your mouth. His nose presses against yours. That is so sudden that you’re so dumbfounded. Eyes wide. Breath mingles with his.

“W.....what?” You ask stupidly.

He wants to kiss you?

“Can we be too much? One more time?” Jimin slowly and gently presses his body against yours. His voice is shaky.

He wants to.

“Jimin.... I’m going insane I think.” Both of you would’ve laughed hard at that in a different time. Neither do so at this moment, however. You genuinely think you’re going insane.

“Good. Go insane. Go fucking insane. Don’t become sane, just let me take care of you hm. Can I kiss you?” Jimin slightly presses his lips onto you. You’re insane. He asks you stay that way. So, what’s stopping you? The feral need you’ve been trying to contain inside explodes.

You nod furiously before taking his bottom lip between yours. Instantly starting to move. He lets out a groan. Hands immediately gripping your hips. Pulls you flush against his body. He deepens the kiss by plunging his tongue inside. You moan. Shameless. Go insane he said. You’re loosing your breath again. Lungs screaming but you won’t pull away. You suck on his tongue. He sucks on your bottom lip. Flights for dominance with your tongue.

It’s a messy tangle of a spit and teeth now. Your teeth clanking together. Sounds of your groans and moans mixing with the wet sounds your lips make. You place your hands behind his neck. Then on his back. Touching wherever you can. Pressing your body into his desperately. He does the same. Hands exploring your curves harshly. You accept the defeat first. Pull away heaving for much needed oxygen. He doesn’t let you. Is back again numbing your lips. But you want more. You push him away weakly, confusing him.

“Please no. Not yet. Don’t become sane now, baby. No.” Jimin whines, chasing your mouth back. If it isn’t the sweetest sound. And he calls you baby? Fireworks are exploding inside your stomach now. He bites your bottom lip. Bit harshly that you whimper.

“No... No Jimin.. it’s not it. I want more...” You manage to find your voice. At that he pulls away. Peers into your eyes.

“More?”

“Yes. More please.”

Jimin moans. A sweet one. You don’t get to think what’s happening when his hands grabs you by your thighs. Hoists you up to the kitchen island. Nudges your thighs from his knee. Urges your legs apart. Slots himself between your parted legs. Is back kissing you, pink muscle exploring every nook and corner inside your mouth. Pulls away. “Tell” Gives a peck. “me” peck. “what” peck “you want?” A harsh kiss. You’re breathless.

“S...something.... A...anything please..... Jimin. Please give me something.”

“Something?”

“Yes I need something. Anything you give.” Your voice is shaky. Can’t be embarrassed now. Not when you’re burning. “Want you Jimin.” You further clarify what you want. He groans again. Kisses you again. Makes you say the same thing again and again.

“One more time baby. Say you want me.”

“I... wa...want y... you Jimin. Please something. Anything.”

You love the way Jimin slightly trembles at your words.

“God, fuck yes. Lil you’re fucking hot.” He whispers. Hands travel from your hips to your ass. Squeezes. Lips back on assaulting yours.

“Please..” You plead one more time.

Just like that he is bunching your dress up to your waist. Attacks your neck. Sucking and licking. Presses his lips and tongue on that sweet spot. All the while his hands harshly exploring the skin of your thighs. He touches. Rubs. Squeezes. Grabs. Yanks you to the edge of the counter top. Making your panty clad core slots against his. Ruts his hips. The friction that makes is blissful. So, you do the same. Give some attention to your needy cunt. Moan his name. Whine pathetically when he stops.

“No Jimin please...”

He silences you by attacking your lips again. By sneaking his hands between your pressed up bodies. His fingers finally touching where you need him the most. Dear God, how good that little touch feels. Your ass nearly leaves the countertop. Searching for more. He chuckles into your mouth.

“Fucking needy..” Mumbles. He presses his middle and forefinger on your throbbing clit. Over your lacy panties. Adds more pressure and circle it. Drags his fingers down your slit, pressing down at your needy hole. Hums in approval when he finds you soaked.

“How long have you been wet? Hm Lil? How long did you wear this soaked panties? Sticking into your pretty pussy?” His husky voice is like liquid fire. Burning through you. You shiver at his words. Mouth so dry even after he wets your lips so good.

“I... I. Don’t know..” You try to answer anyway. Jimin doesn’t think it’s an answer. He roughly pushes your panty to the side. You gasp. Touches your slicked cunt bare for the first time. You moan. He rubs your slit before pushing his two fingers at your entrance. Pushes past until the pads of his fingers are inside you. Just teasing your entrance. Thumb find your clit again. Rubs it very painfully slow.

“How long Lil? Answer me. How long have you been dripping for me?” He is toying with you. That’s what he is doing. Will not do anything until you answer. Will tease you till you die from the neediness.

“S....since.. since you kissed me.” You force yourself to answer. He laughs this time. Mocking almost.

“All these because of a kiss?”

Oh, you love this. Love the aura he is emanating. Love the authority. Absolutely love to be in his mercy. New waves of arousals crash over you.

“Yes.” You answer. He rewards you with another messy kiss. Hand never stopping teasing your entrance and rubbing your clit. “What a good slut you are baby? Just so ready and wet. All for me?” He just knows you love this. Isn’t he? Probably feels how you’re dripping more. Another week yes escapes your lips.

“Good.” His fingers disappears form your cunt. Before you could complain, however, he is rubbing that slicked covered pads on your lips. Watches you expectantly. So, you become a good girl. Dart your tongue out to lick it away. Makes him moan. He pulls away from your body. Cold air engulfs your body in the lack of his warmth. He grabs a stool. Drags it to where you are seated and sits. His face nicely levelling with your waist. He makes it better by slightly bending down. Now levelling with your sopping cunt. Places his palms on your inner thighs to spread your legs even more.

Revealing your soppy cunt to his burning gaze. The way your flimsy panty is soaked.

“Did I mention you’re hot?” Asks but you are no longer able to answer anything. Anticipation eating you up. Just knowing what he is about to do. Fuck those thick lips are going to be on your cunt. Even the thought is enough to make you cum. You whimper and wiggle your ass needy. Earn yourself a slap on your inner thigh. And a soothing kiss after. Jimin looks at you through his lashes. Keeps kissing your thighs. Open mouth and sucking, leaving his imprints on them. Each kiss is leaving higher than the previous one. Up, up and up. Until finally, fucking finally his lips are on your cunt. Lips pressing over your already swollen clit.

Your hands fly to grab from his hair. Firmly pressing his face deeper into your pussy. Can feel his smirk. The smirk before he willingly bury his face between your thighs. And then inhales. Deeply. Moans so loud. Louder than you and probably enough for whole cottage to hear.

“Ji...mm...in..”

He inhales again. Groans. Pulls away to look at you like he is drunk again.

“You smell so good baby. Fuck.” Wets his lip. Looks at you like you’re a full course meal. Just for him to savour and devour.

Gives you an admiring look before his thick lips are latching on your clit. With the lacy material. Sucks on it. Bites lightly. You spread your legs the furthest you can. Giving him everything. Buck your hips onto his face when he shifts to lick long drags across your slit. Up and down. Your panty is just an useless wet item with his saliva and your arousal. He pulls the material between his teeth and lets go again. Making it hit you cunt. You gasp in pleasurable slight sting causes. He keeps his ministrations for couple minutes. Alternating between licks, sucks, kisses and bites.

The next time he pulls away, he is the one who is breathless. “Shit! You taste so good. Just like I imagined... Let’s cum on my tongue baby huh?” He asks as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. You nod violently in assent when he discards the useless material from your body. Pushes it inside his pocket and you think you’ll not last another second. He is the epitome of pure sin. So hot you want to cry. Especially, when his nose, lips, and chin ins glistening with your arousal.

Jimin admires your bare cunt which is practically on his face for second. Mutters something about it being the prettiest cunt he has ever seen. You clench around nothing. Then he is on it back. Keeping your legs apart by pulling them over his shoulders. Hand keeping you pin down onto the table. Face hiding in your pussy. Lips and tongue working magic with the occasional help of teeth. Licks and sucks. Slurping. Practically making our with your cunt. As if he is mad. Going feral and intense with every passing second. Shakes his head. Drinking on your dripping arousals. The entire space is filled with the shameful sound of your cunt making against his mouth. Paired with your moans and his groans.

Your head is spinning. It’s all one mess of pleasure. Immense pleasure. It’s completely unintentional how you keep rutting your hips. Using his perfect face to chase your high. He is relentless. A man on a mission and is succeeding very fast. You’re so close. So close to fall over the edge and need just a little more.

“Ji...min. Ugh it’s so good.... Jimin fingers.. I need your fingers.. please.” You plead. Hands nearly ripping his hair away. He nods without pulling away even for a minute. Gets you bit worried about his breathing. He doesn’t mind apparently. Just gives you what you asked for. Two fingers simply prod against your hole. Rubs circles first and then are pushing past your tight entrance. Your falls flutter at the intrusion. He keeps pushing inside slowly till he is knuckles deep inside you.

Takes a moment. Lips wrapping around your clit. Sucks while eyes fixing on your face. Then starts pumping the fingers in and out of you. Hard and fast. Scissors them. Stretches you wide. Curls his fingers in search for that one spot. Strokes your walls. And at the moment he finds that spot, you almost jump away from the counter.

He presses you down again with his free hand. Violently pump his fingers, assaulting that sweet spot. Assaulting your clit with his teeth and tongue. Over and over again. Until all your senses vanish. Until that tight coil in your lower tummy which has been tightening all these time snaps. Until white spots appear behind your closed eyelids. Jimin keeps his lips tightly sucking on your clit and fingers working when you moan his name breathlessly. Only pulls away when you start to whimper from the oversensitivity.

“Jimin.. hurts...”

He lets you clit go. Retrieves his fingers slowly. Looks you dead in the eye when he sucks those fingers clean. And then your sensitive cunt despite your little cries. Places one last kiss before he is getting into his feet.

You gape at him with a still heaving chest. Placing your weight on your arms. Close your legs. Sit properly. Jimin bends down to wipe his face off with the edge of his shirt.

That was the best fucking orgasm of your life. Only beats the time he made you cum by sucking on your tits. Yes, you won’t lie. Because it is. That, however, doesn’t stop from you coming back to senses. Like always. Doesn’t stop the familiar weight drops on your shoulder. You and he swore you were friends, didn’t you? That you won’t cross the line.

Now what? Oh you’re becoming scared again. Scared since you know what’ll probably happen next. Jimin is starting back at you. Expression unreadable. He’ll say sorry now. You’ll accept that. Or he’ll continue. If he wants that, god yes, you’ll listen. There will be nothing make you happier to return the favour. These unclouded thoughts which are emerging will vanish at a finger snap if he asks to fuck you. To blow him off. But you’re afraid he won’t. He’ll do the right thing now.

So, you hold your breath, bracing for the apology that will shatter this beautiful moment. He doesn’t. Instead, he simply just cups your cheeks. Surprises you by pecking your lips. Bores into your eyes.

“Are you sane now?”

Oh that’s quite unexpected.

You don’t know what he is doing. But if he genuinely wants to know the answer. Then you’ll give him that. Hence, the shake of your head. Your words follow that. “No.” Jimin smiles. Nods. Peck your lips again.

“Can we stay insane then, just for a day? Do you think you’ll be able to stay awake? Just a day Lil?” There’s a desperation in his voice. A kind of one that steals your breath. This is so wrong.

Say no.

You’ll never say no. You’ll willingly chose death if Jimin asks you to. How fucking scary. But you think you’re already deep in this mess.

Cross the line? You just did that.

What’s there to go wrong anymore? A lot.

Still, just for a day. Maybe after that day you two will be satiated. Until that you’ll keep the morality hidden safely behind a closet. To take back later. Just a day.

“Yes. I can. Yes for everything you asked.” You giggle. He follows.

“Let’s pretend this is normal?” He asks again. You nod again. Pretend. Just for a day.

“Uh huh... It’s just a day in paradise?” You peck his lips this time. Heart swooning when he smiles into that. Chuckles. Says that it’s silly but agrees anyway. Confirms for you.

“A day in paradise.”

Chapter Index

...................................................................................................

Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy

[shootingstarwritings]

"Old Men are Cute"

Maria was a young woman with an obsession to two things: cute things and the occult. Combined with a particular knack with spells, she was an entertaining member of her university’s underground witch club. Those lacking the innate talent relied on her to cast a spell on them to live out their fantasies. Her seniors would often laugh and enjoy the little misadventures Maria would tell to the club. “It’s another tale of the witch Maria, cuteness maestro,” she would sometimes proclaim before launching into another tale.

The title had little competition as all of Maria’s club members agreed that her definition of “cute,” was as eccentric as she was. “Old men,” she had responded when asked about her type of guy. “They’re the cutest. By far.”

It was due to that talent and unique mind-set that her friend, Frankie, would figure she would put the new spell he had found to good use. “Astral… projection?” she read out loud. Frankie had come bursting into her room, brandishing the sheet and babbling away far too quickly for her to understand. “Frankie, dear, what’s this new spell you got cooking?”

“Found it in my granny’s old stuff,” he said, a sassy hand on his hip. “Think a freak like you can handle it? Seems difficult to pull off.”

“Spells, dick, our landlord, I can handle anything,” Maria said, her chest puffed up with pride. The two looked it over for a while, exchanging notes as they tried to translate the runes. Handling the weathered page was difficult, but after a few hours and a tea break later, they finally had a firm grasp of the spell.

“Phew! Girl, are you sure you’re gonna be able to handle something like that?” Frankie asked her.

“Yeah, of course! Stuff like this is really useful. Like, body swapping into hot guys and jerking off is fun, but it’s difficult to handle because there’s always a straight guy just going, ‘Nah bitch, give me back my body. Hate this lower back pain and mentally ill brain.’” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know that my boobs aren’t big, but c’mon! Just enjoy the ride. And shapeshifting is also tricky. Boys don’t like it when they suddenly have a long-lost twin trying to pick up guys at the club.”

Frankie sighed. “You really are a freak on a whole ‘nother level. Well, I can keep an eye on your body and cast a spell to make sure it’s nice and healthy until you come back.”

Maria grinned. “Thanks, bestie. You always know exactly what to say.”

“But you gotta cover my rent for the month.”

Maria’s smile dropped, but she still agreed. Taking a deep breath, she allowed her mana to gather. The room darkened as the very light in the space she occupied gathered around her. She raised her hand and grasped an object that came to existence in that very instance.

“A bottle…?” wondered Frankie. Magic always took on the eccentricities of their caster. What exactly was Maria doing…?

Maria twisted the cap and slowly pulled it out. Frankie let out an aggravated sigh as he saw the plastic bubble wand in her hands. Maria, unperturbed at her rude audience, took a deep breath and blew through the hole. A barrage of bright pink bubbles flew through the air, heading straight for a closed window.

Before Frankie could think of opening it, the wave of bubbles phased through the glass. Meanwhile, Maria’s body grew limp before finally collapsing onto her bed. To any oblivious party, she appeared fast asleep.

“Well, guess I get a quiet afternoon,” said Frankie as he prepared to cast a few protective wards on Maria’s body.

Meanwhile, Maria’s soul flew through the air like a pack of hot-pink, hungry locusts. She had the perfect target in mind for her little playtime. Her literature professor, Mr. Jeong, was a stoic, well-dressed, and masculine hunk of a man. That’s why he made the perfect guy to invade first. With Maria in the wheel, she could bring out a sort of ‘contrast,’ that only men like him could pull of.

Mr. Jeong’s office hours were just about to wrap up, so Maria flew towards his office. People looked up and stared at the mass of bubbles that somehow knew where they were going, but Maria merely drank up the attention. All they could do was look up and stare as Maria soared without wings. Much of her life was spent as as a ‘have-not,’ but with magic she would become a ‘have-it-all.’ That was her promise to herself, and she intended to keep it.

As expected, Mr. Jeong was wearing another dull suit and a boring pair of slacks on a Friday afternoon. He was too busy sitting by his desk, scrolling through essays from his students to notice Maria’s myriad of bubbles staring at him through the window. ‘You’re mine, Mr. Hunk!’ thought Maria as she flew through the window. To experiment, she allowed just one bubble to phase through his back.

Mr. Jeong’s body tightened and shivered. His hips jerked forward, almost propelling him off his chair. For Maria, she could feel just a bit of Mr. Jeong’s weighty form. Her experiment was over. Now it was time for the real thing. Maria’s bubbles all surged forward and slammed into Mr. Jeong’s back and ass. Mr. Jeong let out a high-pitched moan as waves of pleasure surged from his back and focused on his ass and dick. “Argh…! Ah! Ahhh…!” His back arched into a C as Maria’s soul ruthlessly pounded and flowed into him. “N-No…” He gripped the armrests on his chair and tried to lift himself up, but there was little he could do as Maria’s essence flooded and overwhelmed his on. His fat ass slammed onto his chair as his whole body convulsed. Soon, his eyes shut and his body relaxed.

Maria let out a moan with Mr. Jeong’s deep voice as she stretched her stolen body. “Oh yeah…” she whispered to herself, smirking as she ran calloused hands down the tight and thick thighs hidden beneath the boring slacks. She took out his phone, relying on the face recognition to unlock it, and turned the camera on. She pused his lips, smirked, and stuck his tongue out with his eyes staring up at the ceiling. With each out of character face, she made sure to take a selfie and send it to her own number. She needed to make sure she had proof to show the club of her little escapade.

Satisfied, Maria pocketed the phone and began to run her hands down the nice, hunky chest. “Now what should we do, Mr. Jeong? It’s Friday, your office hours are up, and we got all weekend to show the campus another side of you.”

A few hours later, Maria browsed Mr. Jeong’s phone once more as she leaned back into his old recliner. She searched for the latest picture she had taken of his body and sent it to Frankie.

It took only a few seconds for the phone to start blowing up with messages containing nothing but nonsense. Then, she received a phone call.

“Are you crazy?!” Frankie yelled from the other line. “What about his private life? Are you gonna just ruin it all?”

Chuckling, Maria said, “Relax, bestie. I got it covered. His girlfriend’s out for the weekend, so it’s just me, this DILF bod, and the four walls I’m gonna stain with his old man cum. Maybe I’ll even stain his brand new Hello Kitty slippers that I bought with,” she clicked her tongue as she patted the fat wallet in her pocket, “all of his credit cards.”

“I dunno. Still seems kinda risky…”

Ugh, how annoying. Frankie always got nervous ever since he had nearly turned his father into a vegetable while rewriting his memories. Even after Maria had fixed up the spell and even made Frankie’s dad a little bit more bisexual as a treat! However, Maria knew every single chink in Frankie’s armor.

Taking a deep breath, Maria leaned back on the recliner and let out a guttural moan. To add to it, she made sure to spread her powerful legs.

“Uh, um, uh… w-well…”

“And get this, Frankie,” Maria chuckled as she put the cherry on top. “Y’know when you were guessing just how much this body was packing?” She patted Mr. Jeong’s crotch, grinning madly as his cock began to swell and even leak. “You underestimated him.”

“...I’ll be right over.”

[theatrevampire]

I really enjoy your fics. What kind of fics do you enjoy in the fandom? Do you have any fic recs?

aww thank you so much. 🥰

i've been a big slacker keeping up with fics lately because work's been crazy for me BUT i tend to pretty much only read loustat because i'm... boring? i guess? lol. i love an AU setting and i do like to read a bit of angst because i'm never going to write it so it's a nice departure from my candy-coated fics. 🤣 however i am a slut for a happy ending for the most part.

ooh! recs! yes! (this will be long and it's not even going to do justice to how many INCREDIBLE fics are out there)

"I try to be the chill girl, but honestly, I'm not." by pocketsun loustat trying to be friends with benefits. i am a simple woman with simple romcom tastes. i love this trope and i loved this fic. 10/10 (cannot recommend pocketsun's present day fics enough)

"Days Of Beauty" by lesfleursrouges i will always sit my ass down for a 5 +1 fic. this is the only loustat one i've come across so far. and it's perfect. hot, sexy, sweet, devastating.

"cord of communion" by themasterletters listen this fic updated DAILY and i would just refresh ao3 by the hour when i got home from work waiting for the next chapter. dopamine hit every time. there's a reason this fic is so popular. superb writing.

"The Saint" by dirtygoldensoul is cheating okay? no. is cheating okay when louis and lestat do it? yes! no but in all seriousness, this fic is just such a great, engaging story. the build up in this is A+.

"Part of Your World" by weathermood i went a little cuckoo bananas (affectionate) with every chapter of this fic. like, gasping and giggling with every turn. i NEVER thought i would ever read a fantasy AU like this (and yes, i recognize that they are normally vampires lol) simply because i had not dabbled in it in the past, but i'm so glad i did. WOOO BOY it's hot.

"Wishful Desires" by DolphinSpirit deeply obsessed with single dad louis in this-- it's like my kryptonite. this fic is fun, it's soothing, it's so bingeable. there's definitely angst, but this feels like a big hug.

"blood of my blood, bone of my bone" by deadcryptid i've never gotten into outlander, but this AU was so wonderfully written. i love an "oh no we HAVE to get married" situation.

"do wrong right" by sightetsound a little missing scene, if you will. a missing scene we all wanted to see. this is the best fan service. short and sexy. read it! read it now! "Backslide" by emofujoshi (WIP) this fic is insane and i mean that in the best way possible. i'm like a rabid dog whenever it updates. loustat is just so in character in this AU. incredible.

"reformation" by verseau (WIP) the dialogue in this is SO FUCKING GOOD...PHEW. this fic is dark, painful, sexy, fun, wild, etc. the smut has me....clutching my metaphorical pearls.

[animalsalvationassociation]

For any of your OCs

🌖 - What is your OC’s favorite scent? Is it nostalgic? 

🌗 - How much does your OC care for their appearance? Are they vain? Are they well-dressed or strictly utilitarian?  

🌘 - Write a flowery description about an aspect of your OC: appearance, personality, past experiences, etc. 

🌑 - Hint at your OC’s darkest secret. 

🌒 - Under what circumstances is your OC their most genuine self? 

Thank you for the asks @casp1an-sea & @firowisteria appreciate it sm!

Ya’ll are probably so tired of seeing Emma, I’m sorry but I'm literally an Oc artist, what can I say?? (This is a bit of a long one, I hope you like reading! Don’t worry there are pictures too lol! 🖼 I spent a lot of energy on all of these, my brain is very soupy rn tbh)

Ask #1:

🌖 — Sea Salt & Hibiscus Flowers . . .

(I’ll fix the coloring on this one later, I literally didn’t see how much of his colors I actually failed to put in until now. Fixed it 🙃 — Also why are reptiles so much harder to draw than mammals???)

🌗 — Sincerly Emma will throw on anything that feels comfortable. Most times it’s not even her’s. Although in public she dresses better than she feels. Sometimes you’ll see her walking around with sun glasses just to hide the bags under her eyes.

(This is just a sketch so we’ll see if I get around to finishing it later. I was struggling because Emma is supposed to be a lot taller but I didn’t measure the proportions very well. I was just trying to figure out how to draw a gosh darn grocery cart!)

🌘 — Emma is truthfully just doing her best. I don’t know how else to put it. She puts all the world’s problems on her shoulders and expects very little in return. At the end of the day she knows bad things will happen, but as long as they happen to her she doesn’t mind all that much.

She’s constantly throwing herself at problems just to keep her friends and family safe. Her worst fear is letting her team down and she likes to beat herself up if anyone where to get hurt on her watch. She’s had a lot of hospital visits and bed rest days if you know what I mean. But at the end of the day she’s still a very sad individual and isolates herself from everyone.

(It’s partially the Maned Wolf in her, they aren’t really pack animals if that makes sense)

Ofc Emma has a team that loves and cares about her, and in a way they’re like her family aside from the A.S.A. She’d do anything for them. I think it’s just a matter of not wanting to be in their way. She hates being selfish, but sometimes just a hug can heal the day’s strains.

🌑 — . . . ❤️‍🩹

(My babiesssss)

🌒 — When Emma is with her team nothing can stop her . . .

(I wonder if they’ll notice how I didn’t mention anything about Kwazii . . .)

Ask #2:

This is such a good question, I’m not joking! Thank you so much for asking @firowisteria !!! Also I believe what they are referring to is the branches of the A.S.A. so let’s get into it.

C.L.A.D.E. — Justice/Legal Department

S.O.S. — Coast Gaurd/Aerial Protection

S.S.Jade — Forest Conservation

R.S.R. — Animal Rahabilitation/Reserves, Search and Rescue

The Octonauts — Ocean Safegaurding

Thank you again for the asks! That is now 5/8 of the original asks done! Phew! Thank you to everyone who continues to send stuff in, it may take a long time to put each one together but it’s still very fun for me! Have a wonderful day and here’s a cookie for those who made it this far! 🍪

[kopfkino-o]

The Seer's Stone - Chapter 6 (Az POV)

Summary: Azriel is being pushed to his limits, driven half-mad by his increased workload, Koschei’s recent movements, and the unaddressed feelings still hanging between him and Elain. His mind is at war with himself, thoughts and regrets constantly battling with him, but when an old acquaintance comes calling he feels compelled to answer, bound by loyalty and duty he sets off to find what very well might be his own damnation.

Pairing: Elain x Azriel 

Timeline: Post-ACOSF

Wordcount: 1970

Read:

Chapter One | The Crone’s Trade

Chapter Two | The Oracle of Seraphyros 

Chapter Three | Last of Our Kind (Azriel)

Chapter Four | An Empty Seat

Chapter Five | Death and the Lovely Fawn - UPDATED

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoy! More below 💋

PHEW! After several months of insanity (see: moving to a new city, taking on several new projects at my day job as a graphic designer, getting engaged, traveling to Europe to be in a friend's wedding, hurting my knee again (rip lmao), and the general chaos of being alive) I am so excited to be back writing again. And even more excited to share this latest chapter of the Seer's Stone with the world.

Writing took a back seat within my life last year, due impart to the aforementioned chaos, but also due to some personal anxieties I had about sharing my work. It's irrational, I know, writing is writing, art is art! But still, I found myself lacking confidence and facing a ton of writer's block, but I found some new inspiration through my professional creative work, had a few friends that really helped to cheer me on, and had a lot of downtime after my knee surgery to think about and play around with my craft. All that being said, I'm really really glad to be back at it and revisiting this story, and learning through writing fanfiction.

My plans for the fic haven't changed (too much), but I do think I ought to note that I made some edits to the last update, Chapter Five | Death and the Lovely Fawn, that I feel like I just needed to make to provide clarity/build up for the direction of the story.

Lastly, I just wanted to say thank you to the folks who reached to me about this fic even when I wasn't actively updating it and offered me support/encouragement. This meant so so much to me, more than you all probably know, and I just wanted to say thanks for that.

This one's for you guys.

xoxo, Court

There was a building headache in Azriel's temples.

Every beat of his heart reverberated through his skull like a war drum. Azriel worked his jaw, grinding his teeth. There had always been something about the dank darkness of the Hewn City that pressed down on him like a fist, but the hateful place was particularly grating tonight.

Wrong, his shadows murmured, this place is wrong

"Hush," he snapped back at them, in no mood for their whisperings.

The floor shifted underfoot, and the long, stone passageway changed before his eyes, writhing as if it were a living thing. To anyone else, the illusion might have been nauseating, but these tunnels and their strange enchantments had become second nature to him during the time he served beneath Rhysand's father.

The old High Lord had personally keyed the spells into the oily stone walls to prevent his captives from ever learning the true layout of the tunnel system. And, perhaps, to also remind them they were so far beneath the earth they could only dream of feeling the warmth of the sun on their faces again.

He had been cruel like that.

Azriel rounded a bend in the stone and found himself in another long hallway carved directly into the mountain. Only this hallway was lined with ancient, half-rusted cell doors—cells that housed the worst of the Night Court's filth. Or at least, what was left of them.

Halfway down the corridor, Feyre and Amren were waiting for him outside one of those cells, the High Lady and her second-in-command half-concealed in shadow, their whispered voices echoing queerly off the rock walls.

Both females fell silent when they caught sight of him. Something twisted in Azriel’s gut. For them both to be here, in the dead of the night, with Nyx still so young and Varian here in Velaris on a short respite from Adriata, meant something was wrong. The look on Feyre’s beautiful face only confirmed that. Something was very, very wrong.

“You’re late,” Amren snapped. It was as much a greeting as he’d get from her.

Azriel matched the second’s same cool indifference. “I was in the middle of something when you sent for me. I came as soon as I could.”

“Off again, doing only the Mother knows what? You don’t fool me, boy. I can smell the Continent on you.”

“I come, I go. So is the nature of my work.”

“Is it, now?”

“If you intend to suggest I’m up to something you disapprove of, then by all means, Amren, do so now and let us be done with it. I’m not here to indulge in idle banter.”

The second-in-command bared her teeth, smoke-gray eyes glowing like two torches amidst the gloom, and for half a heartbeat, Azriel thought she might press the matter.

Then Feyre stepped forward and cleared her throat. There were dark smudges of exhaustion beneath the High Lady’s eyes, but she still looked as regal as ever in her Illyrian leathers, her carved ashwood bow and a matching quiver of arrows peeking up over her armored shoulders.

“Enough, you two,” Feyre said, voice laced with nothing but command. She shot both Azriel and Amren a warning look before folding her tattooed hands behind her back, taking up the position of authority fitting of both a war commander and a queen. “We have bigger matters at hand, and I didn’t leave my infant son asleep at home with a nanny just to come here and listen to you bicker.” She nudged Amren with an armored elbow. “So, won't you be a dear and update our lovely Spymaster on the situation at hand?”

Amren shot him one last distrustful look before answering their High Lady's command. "We picked up two...stragglers...trying to make their way to the Prison Isle. From what we've been able to gather, it appears they were attempting to make their way inside the Prison itself."

Azriel's brows rose. Sneak onto the Prison Isle? That was not only impossible, but it was complete and utter madness. A sick, sudden realization shuddered through him, so fierce it cut through the pounding in his head.

Elain.

Elain was trying to get access to the Prison for reasons still unknown to him. Her and the spellspinner she'd tried so diligently to keep hidden in the Library.

Azriel's shadows had brought him word of their machinations weeks ago, initially tipped off by the arrival of the young spellspinner, and catching Elain in his bedroom yesterday had only confirmed his suspicions, but surely she hadn't gone against his warnings. Surely she hadn't...

"Something wrong, boy?" Amren crooned.

He ignored her. "Tell me everything," he said to Feyre.

"One male, one female. Both don't seem to hold any particular court alliance, but they were...dressed strangely. Almost as if they were trying to blend in with the Library's priestesses. Only their robes were gray, not white, and they carried no invoking stones." Feyre scrubbed a hand down her face. "Rhys caught the male on the beaches; I found the female still on the boat they'd used to reach the Isle."

Azriel might have sighed his relief if only Feyre's words weren't too much to stomach. Elain and her friends, and whatever wild plan they'd concocted, might be safe for now, but an unwelcome stranger trying to land on the Prison Isle was nothing to take lightly. And the fact Azriel, nor his shadows, had seen it coming rankled him.

"I tried to talk to her, wanted to know who she was, why she was there," the High Lady continued. "But she pulled a knife before I could get to her. I watched her open her own throat. Tried to heal her, but to no avail, little thanks to the poison on her blade." Feyre shook her head then tossed a thumb towards the cell door. "Rhys is inside with the male. He won't speak, though. He just keeps... singing."

"Singing?" Azriel echoed.

"He means to mock us," Amren murmured.

It was Feyre who ignored the second-in-command now. The High Lady tipped her head towards the cell door. "You'll see." She said. "We'll be waiting at the Riverhouse for your report."

And with that, Feyre reached a hand for Amren and winnowed them both away, leaving Azriel alone with his pounding head, the ancient black stone, and the iron door looming before him.

Azriel drew in a breath. Down, down, down he sank into himself before he strode for the cell door and shoved it open.

The sharp smell of blood and piss and fear arrested his senses as soon as he stepped into the dimly lit cell.

Old memories reared their ugly heads, taking him back to a different time where he came to these very cells to serve a far different lord. Truth-Teller warmed at his side, steadying him. Azriel wrapped a hand around the dagger's familiar hilt and shoved the memories back inside their iron cages to rot.

He made a quick sweep of the room when his eyes finally adjusted. Shadows clung to the corners of the narrow cell, dark enough to conceal his brother's powerful form hidden within them. Rhys was the darkness here. Anyone else might have missed him, but Azriel knew his brother's scent, the sound of his breathing, and marked where he stood in one of the shadowy corners.

In the center of the cell, bound and blindfolded, sat the captive. His gray robes were bloody, his lip split and broken, but he was singing just as Feyre had promised. Singing some horrible old song.

"...blue blood, red blood, blood black as a moonless night," the captive's voice echoed off the cell walls, garbled and made watery by his mouthful of broken teeth. "A pound of flesh, a pound of bone, a gift for a maiden made of light..."

Azriel's shadows swarmed. They flowed across the old stone floors to circle the captive like a pack of hungry dogs, writhing and twisting as they tried to make sense of him and his strange song. Almost as if the song had offended them. As if it scared them.

The darkness melted, and Rhys appeared from within it, arms crossed and brow furrowed, the mask of the High Lord in perfect place. Stars were dancing in his violet eyes, cold and unyielding, burning with a hunger Azriel himself knew all too well.

"He's been at it all night," Rhys said softly. "The same two verses of the same song, over and over again. It's driving me fucking mad."

"You scramble his brains or something?" Azriel asked.

"Would that I could. His mind is impenetrable. Practically walled off with solid obsidian. I've never seen anything like it."

"He's been prepped on how to face a Daemati, then."

"Or spelled to keep one out of his mind."

The words rose a chill within him, and Azriel found himself watching his brother more closely. Rhys worked a tick in his jaw, violet eyes churning as he assessed the battered man babbling his strange song.

"...away, away, at the crown of midnight..."

Azriel had never heard the tune before. Yet, it rankled him somehow. Dragged cold talons through his guts as if it were trying to make a home there.

Pain pricked behind his eyes, blooming like a thousand burning stars.

Azriel rolled his shoulders, fighting the headache, and drew in a deep breath of the rank air, descending deeper into that inside, readying himself for what was to come.

"He'll break," he said softly.

Rhys did not look at him as he replied. "I know."

Eventually, they exchanged the briefest, most fleeting of looks, but the silent words that passed between them meant everything. Rhys's eyes reminded him that Azriel did not have to do this. That he was, in fact, not his father's son. That this Night Court was a court of dreamers, of sons who were forgiven of the sins of their fathers, of daughters free to live as they pleased.

But the weight of duty had been taught to Azriel decades ago. And it was not a lesson so easily forgotten.

Skin slips easier off the smaller bones, blood congeals at the joints, and the mind always, always fractures first.

The old High Lord had taught him those things. Had made sure Azriel knew them, committed them to his memory so he might never forget his purpose. His worth. The thing he'd been made for.

Azriel slid Truth-Teller from its sheath. "Leave us," he said to his brother, voice soft as night. "I'll bring my report to the Riverhouse."

Rhysand put a gentle hand on his shoulder, the gesture made as if it might spare him, as if it might change what he was and the things he was born to do.

It wouldn't.

Azriel had stopped telling himself such follies a long, long time ago.

So he waited until his brother closed the cell door behind him. Waited until his shadows drank the last bit of light from the dank cell. Waited and listened as the prisoner whimpered the last verses of his swan song.

"...a sword for the son, a horn for the Queen, and dagger for their fool..."

Once, when he was just a boy, the shadows had taught him there was a place he could go, somewhere he could hide from his father's wrath, from his brothers' hate. Somewhere deep within himself. A place where he felt nothing, saw nothing.

Was nothing.

Azriel went to that place now, hiding somewhere deep within himself. He thought of roses as he raised Truth-Teller to the pale flesh of the prisoner's chest and began to cut.

Blood bloomed and the ache in Azriel's head erupted like a thunderclap.

And a dagger for the fool.

[kotegiris]

[Event Story] Cage of Black Raven

I'm just an amateur and it's my first time translating something this long, so there may be mistakes, but please enjoy! I recommend reading this while having the event story open on your device!

previous chapter ✧ all

Chapter 13: The Boy’s Name

Forest Area

-A few days after the Raven Master’s disappearance-

Liberta: Hah, hah…

Liberta: Phew… I’ve walked so much…

Liberta: I’ve somehow made it to the Western Lands… I have to keep going just a little more until I find the village…

Raven: Caw, caw!

Liberta: You’re right, Lily. Let’s take a short break…

Liberta: …Ah, that’s right!

Raven: Caw?

Liberta: Give me a moment…

Scribble, scribble

Liberta: Done!

Liberta: Ehehe… This is the first letter I’ve ever written…

Liberta: Lily! Deliver it to that person!

Raven: Caw!? Cawcawcaw!!

Liberta: Yeah… While you do that, I’ll keep walking…

Liberta: This is where we say goodbye, Lily.

Raven: Caw, caw!!

Liberta: After you deliver this letter, go back to Rondine.

Liberta: I’m already so far south from town…

Liberta: You’ll get sick staying in a warm place like this.

Raven: Caw…

Liberta: It’s okay! We’ll meet again!

Liberta: Boschi said so! As long as I’m alive, we’ll meet again!

Raven: …Caw!!

Flap, flap…

Liberta: Thank you, Lily! I’ll see you again!

Liberta: …… Off she goes…

???: Hm, You’re…

Liberta: Huh…?

Aro: Based on your clothes, you must be a human from the Central Lands. Why are you all the way out here…

Aro: Hmm, from the looks of it… are you an orphan?

Liberta: U-Uhm…

Aro: Come. I can’t take you in but…

Aro: There’s an orphanage on the border of the Central Lands. I can guide you there.

Grovaner Family’s Mansion

-A few days later-

Raven: Caw, caw!

Finlay: Hm… You’re here again.

Finlay: Now then… What lovely drawing will you show me today?

Finlay: Hm…? This is…

Letter: “to my friend whos name i dont know”

Letter: “thank you for everything.  this is my last letter.”

Letter: “i am going somewhere far away. i am leaving that small room to live in the outside world.”

Letter: “i am taking the four leaf clover with me. i was very happy when you gave it to me.”

Letter: “i don’t know your name but… i love you.” 

Letter: “byebye.  from, Liberta.” (1)

Finlay: …I see. He’s leaving the bell tower.

Finlay: I’m glad.

Finlay: Farewell, my friend.

Finlay: You don’t know my name or status, so… I always looked forward to our exchange of letters. 

Finlay: I’m glad I finally got to learn your name…

Finlay: Liberta… The meaning of that name is “freedom.” (2)

Finlay: Fufu… I wonder who gave you that name.

Finlay: The Raven Master isn’t supposed to have a name… Just who named you?

Finlay: And who taught you to write when you’re not supposed to be able to read? 

Finlay: I have no way of knowing, but… I’m happy for you, Liberta.

Finlay: You probably don’t know the meaning of your name, but…

Finlay: Someone wished for your freedom.  That’s why they named you “Liberta.” 

Finlay: …Farewell, Liberta.

Finlay: My friend, who is freer than anyone else…

Rondine - Center of Town

-Same day-

We were still in Rondine.

Boschi: …Achoo!

Boschi: …Huh? It’s not even that cold, but I just needed to sneeze… 

Lono: Haha… Maybe someone’s talking about you behind your back?

Boschi: As if. Don’t be stupid.

Boschi: Anyways...

Flock of Ravens: Caw, caw!

Boschi: Hah… The ravens in town are going berserk.

Yuhan: Oh my… Could it be because Liberta is no longer here?

Bastien: Yeah, probably.

Bastien: The human in charge of them is gone, so they’re going crazy…

> By the way, Boschi…

Boschi: Hm?  What is it, Aruji-sama?

> You have your mask back

Boschi: Yeah, I had Flure prepare a spare one.

> So he has spares…

Lono: Anyways about the ravens going berserk…

Lono: Does this mean they’re gonna attack the carriage again when we go back…

> What!?

Boschi: Well, can’t be helped…

Boschi: Before arriving in town, just like how on the way here we were attacked by ravens…

Boschi: The town’s ravens will attack the carriage.

Muu: Whaaat!? Does that mean we can’t go back!?

> W-What should we do…

Boschi: Aruji-sama, Muu, calm down.

Boschi: The ravens being berserk should, at most, last for only a few days.

Boschi: During that time, I’ll repair the damaged carriage.  Then we can go back to the mansion.

Bastien: What if there’s an angel attack while we’re here?

Boschi: We’ll have to borrow a carriage and hurry back.

Boschi: Just have to hope it doesn’t come to that…

Lono: Uggh… I have to fight the ravens again when we go back…

> That’s a bit scary…

Bastien: Don’t worry, Aruji-sama.

Bastien: On the way back, I’ll protect you.

Lono: “I’ll protect you” my ass! Boschi-san and I are the ones risking our lives outside the carriage!

Yuhan: It’s tough being inside too…

Muu: Ah…! Everyone, look!

> What is it, Muu?

Muu: All of the town’s ravens are flying into the sky!

Flock of Ravens: Caw, caw…!

Flap, flap…

Lono: Woah…! The sky’s pitch black!

Boschi: The ravens are heading towards the bell tower.

> There’s so many of them…!

Yuhan: I wonder why… The Raven Master is no longer at the bell tower…

Flock of Ravens: Caw, caw…!

The crows dyed the bell tower black and then scattered.

Flap, flap…

Lono: Haha…

> Wow…

Bastien: Honestly, it’s a nice sight.

Yuhan: Yes. It’s like the moment a bird flies out of its cage.

Boschi: Yeah.

Boschi: The ravens must also be giving their blessings to Liberta.

Boschi: Blessings for the freedom of their master, the Raven Master.

The scattered ravens blended into the town until we couldn’t see them anymore.

Boschi: …Live and let us meet again, Liberta.

END

T/N: (1) Liberta wrote his letter in mostly hiragana, the most basic writing system in Japanese, so I tried to reflect this (2) Liberta means freedom in Italian (3) Rondine means swallow in Italian and swallows are usually symbols of good luck and positive change (4) If you're wondering who Aro is, he first appeared in the Captive Dolls event story (which has also been translated)

[wannaeatramyeon]

Could I request, if you have time, Warren Chae with someone who secretly does cage fights for money and everyday they have to hide their injuries until one day their discovered. I adore your writing ❤️❤️

Anon, this ask made me smile, it's so specific! Another sorry for taking so long. Thank you for the ask and for reading all my nonsense! Warren is obviously the best househusband btw.

Warren Chae x Reader: Househusband and The Fighter

The fight today sucked.

It was a close call, but you somehow managed to squeak out a win. You're exhausted though you can't help feeling your pride swell. You have come so far since your first match - the championship title is within reach.

And you can't deny that the money is nice too.

"Oh! Hey Warren, didn't you see there!" You plaster a smile and immediately hide your hand behind your back, hoping your boyfriend didnt catch the bandages.

Warren pauses, a small mountain of vegetables sits next to him as he preps for tonight's dinner, "[Where] have you been?"

"Just with some friends! Phew! I need a shower!" You give him a little wave with your other hand as you quickly duck out of sight.

Warren doesn't buy it. He can smell the disinfectant on you.

.

.

"Y/N! What happened [to your] eye?!" Warren grips you by the shoulders, worriedly examining your face.

"I'm so stupid!" you force out a giggle, and try to angle the offending black eye away from view, "I bashed it on the window ledge this morning-"

Your mouth continues to ramble. You can't recall the exact words you say, the story is a reach but it should be believable enough.

Warren stares at your shiner through the day with a frown, and his stomach drops when he notices the bruised and broken skin on your knuckles.

.

.

"Happy Friday!"

You had won your match today and the extra cash was burning a hole in your pocket. As a treat, you grabbed some of Warren's favourite food on your way home.

"This is great, [but] I'm not sure how we can [afford it]?

"Don't worry," you say, even as his brows crease with said worry, "I've got this!"

This doesn't make sense. Warren keeps a close eye on the finances, and it is tight this month with little room for manoeuvre.

.

.

Wednesdays are Warren's laundry days.

The sun is even shining and there's a light breeze. Perfect.

He prepares the clothes and bedding, but a mark on your top halts his movement. He studies the patch, which looks to have been hastily scrubbed. Is that... dried blood?

Warren connects the dots. It's a little far-fetched but...

.

.

"What happened to your forehead [this time]?

Warren greets you by the front door, preventing any room for escape.

"Can you believe how clumsy I've been lately! I-"

Your next lie is cut off as Warren holds out a flyer. Your name and image is clearly printed in full colour. You try to formulate something, but the guilt is already written all over your face.

"Are you [doing] this to provide [for] us?"

Warren takes a deep breath. He's not sure if he has the guts to go through this conversation. That he has failed you so completely that you are putting your body through hell to provide for him. How could he deserve to be your partner if this is what you have to do?

"No!" It comes out louder than expected. You know him. You know the thoughts running through his head.

The lies start to unwind and the truths from the last couple months spill out. With each word, the burden from your secrets lessens. You describe it all to Warren, eyes shining brightly and passion obvious.

The improvements in your skill. The triumph of each victory. The thrill of every fight.

.

.

At your next match, you obliterate your opponent as Warren cheers you on.

[kpchrs]

Hiii! First of all, thank u so much for the continuous snowbaird content in my dash. Now, you're one of the reasons that I keep coming to this app. Since I'm a sucker for what ifs, and I enjoy your thoughts about snowbaird, how do you view their relationship progression, if they never went to district 12, aka, coryo didn't get punished and Lucy gray stayed in the capitol? Do you think that was a possibility? Also, unrelated, but I really enjoy the ff list recommendation, thank u for that. And I think it's so funny that in some FF it's portraying snow's virginity lost, it's so refreshing to see the guy in this position, not the other way around. Also, the sexual tension and physical contact is such a big thing in their relationship, I like when people don't overlook that

Hi, Anon, I'm sorry this took sooooo long. I'm afraid I got lost on the path of life. I'm just kidding. I was just thinking too hard about something new I can add to this lmao (None, and I give up finally.) Happy that my...shitposts(?) can entertain you. Thank you.

Because you are asking about the possibility, I think it's not really a possibility, unless some miracles knock people's heads, that they would just dismiss or not notice him cheating. But for the sake of the AU, let's forget about that.

Let's say after winning the Games, instead of his mum's poison compact, his dad's Lucy Gray-perfumed handkerchief, and the jaded, bitter Highbottom, he is greeted by Lucy Gray.

Goodness, how romantic. I'm sure it will be a so-tight-you-can't-breathe hug. A rib-cracking embrace. A tear or two or three.

He did it. He just saved his girl. Oh, she's really his girl now, right? Lucy Gray. His girl. (He also gets the Plinth Prize, yes, the Snows will return to their glory days now. Snow lands on top.)

[Coryo's mind will wander far into marriage. I mean, he's a teenage boy high with happiness at this point and I think his mind would go there so.]

Finally. Life is looking up from here.

Lucy Gray just got out of her doom. She thinks the world of Coryo. He just risked everything to save her life! Lucy Gray is very grateful and maybe Coryo can get a few days with her staying in the Capitol (with the reason so she can recover). It will be a lot of sweetness before Lucy Gray drops the bomb by saying she wants to go home.

This Coryo has no reason to go to the District. He won't want to.

Districts, he thinks with...disgust (and fear he swallows). ...Maybe to meet Lucy Gray it's worth it anyway. But it will be better and the best scenario if she can stay in the Capitol. With him.

What will Coryo do? Well, he can try to convince her to stay.

The Capitol loves you.

Coriolanus, Capitol is not for me.

I love you. He weaponises confession without being sure of his own feelings. (I think in this stage, he is still wondering.) Don't you want to stay with me? With the Plinth Prize, I can provide for you.

Coriolanus, I must go back to the Covey. They need me. (I'm not sure if she will reciprocate the confession. I think, in the book, Lucy Gray feels more comfortable with her feelings and the relationship because Coryo following her to Twelve confirms his sincerity for her.)

Coryo can keep trying, but I don't believe he will win the debate lol Sorry, bro.

In one fanfiction I read (and still haven't continued), Coryo 'convinced' her because he's backed by Dr Gaul. He lied to her that 'the Capitol is endangering your life' to keep her in the Capitol.

Without Dr Gaul, nah. No chance.

Unfortunately, Coryo, nope, she doesn't stay.

"Goodbye, Lucy Gray, I'll see you in letters." After sharing a last kiss in the train station, there she goes. In this universe, at least she leaves on a good note. Phew.

With his family and money secured, also because he feels safe enough (unlike in Twelve), Coryo won't be as desperate as he is in the book, which is why I don't think the worst scenario will happen...

...Yet?

In this AU, I think the story can continue when the Capitol invites Lucy Gray back to sing in the 11th Hunger Games. The drama will start depending on the mentor system (victors/academy senior students), if Coryo interns in the Hunger Games (maybe, who knows, he will justify it all for power), and if Lucy Gray wants to go back at all. Well, I do think Lucy Gray will come back, it's the Capitol's demand, she wants to be safe after all, but maybe she will sing in defiance of the Games. She can write a vaguely(?) rebellious song and...well, the Capitol's and Coryo's reaction will be so interesting and that's how the drama starts!

It all depends on the plot, baby!

TLDR; if everything goes smoothly, the less desperate and more secure Coryo will let her go. After all, power is his priority and it's in his grasp, though I do think he will keep in contact with her. After that, it depends on the gods (the writers).

I'd love to hear other opinions. This is fiction, after all, everything is possible if you justify enough.

And about the fics lmao! Coryo's virginity's loss! Okay, let's not pretend that he got some experience, yeah? XD This guy admits it himself in the book so unless it's a time skip he will remain inexperienced pfft (even though I don't really see him as a guy who sleeps around even with Livia after Lucy Gray. If he does it, it's to gain something.)

Much like the popular fanon, I do think Lucy Gray is more experienced than him. My previous fandom also has this popular trope in the fics, so I think this trope is very attractive to many people. Fumbling men are cute PFFFT.

With Anne, we think physical touch is one of their top love languages. Judging from the amount of book kisses the film omitted, in our opinion, that's why physical touch is prominent in fics.

About the sexual tension, let's face it, the book doesn't go there because it's a YA, but if it wasn't it would absolutely go there. It's just the CERTAIN vibe from them. Everlark is purer and Snowbaird is filthier LOL (And also because of the simple reason that it's hot.)

I love it too! It's cute :P

Thank you for the ask,

Kris

[clothyume]

The Whereabouts of the Missing Book Episode 1

Hajime: ♪~♪~

Tsukasa: Oh? Hajime-kun, hello. You look like you’re having fun? 

Hajime: Wahya!?

Suou-kun. I-I’m sorry, was I humming too loudly…

The new school term has only just started, but not many people visit the library so I let my guard down

Tsukasa: Please don’t worry about it. I  just got here

Hajime: Is that so? Are you perhaps returning a book you borrowed? 

Tsukasa: No, that’s not the case. I’m finally a senior, and this year I have the important role of being the student council treasurer

I thought I might study a little, to make an example for the underclassmen

Hajime: Wah, how admirable! You're really putting your all into your studies. I’m a senior this year too, so I should really follow Suou-kun’s example 

That said, that might be a little difficult considering I have work re-arranging the library today…  

Tsukasa: Ah, I’m sorry. It seems I’m getting in the way of your work 

Hajime: Not at all, if anything I’m glad Suou-kun came to talk to me 

We don’t usually get many customers, so it can get a little lonely 

Tsukaka: Is that so? Though you say you don’t get a lot of customers, I can see a frightening amount of returned books…

Hajime: Ahaha, the truth is, I was really busy before spring break, so there wasn’t anyone to tend to the library 

Because of that I couldn’t reorganize the returned books, and they’ve all piled up 

Tsukasa: I see. Hajime-kun is the vice president and a member of the library committee, so it makes sense that you would be busider. If you don’t mind, I could lend a hand? 

I could take about half of the books you’re carry–!? 

Hajime: Wawa!? Are you okay, Suou-kun!

Tsukasa: No, I’m just surprised at how heavy they are 

Speaking of which, Hajime-kun… Do you not find that heavy? Just half is too heavy and I’m having trouble lifting it 

Hajime: Not at all. I’m rather strong after all♪

Heave-ho! 

Tsukasa: (He makes it look so easy to just pick up what I dropped!?)

Hajime: You don’t need to worry about lending a hand. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of Suou-kun’s studying 

Tsukasa: I-I suppose so. In that case I’ll study quietly over here. But, please, don’t hesitate to call out to me if you have any troubles, okay? 

I’m simply not feeling well today, but usually I can carry as much as I did earlier! 

Hajime: Right. Thank you very much♪ 

(One hour later) 

Tsukasa: Phew, I’m pretty much prepared for the next class. Perhaps I should take a little break

Hajime-kun is… Oh? 

Hajime: H~mm…

Tsukasa: Hajime-kun. That’s a long face, what’s the matter? 

Hajime: Ah, Suou-kun. Am I disturbing your studies? 

Tsukasa: No, I was thinking of taking a break anyway

Aside from that, what’s with that grave look on your face? 

Hajime: Umm.. The truth is, I noticed a book that hasn't been returned, even though the return period has passed 

Tsukasa: That’s inexcusable. It’s the rule to return something back to the library by the due date

Students who break that rule ought to be banished from the library! 

Hajime: P-please calm down, Suou-kun. It’s common for things to be returned after their due date 

If we go as far as banning them, then no one really will use the library~!

Tsukasa: Mmm… But, rules should be followed

Hajime: That’s true. But, if we just ask them to return it, then the problem is solved

A librarian’s job is to ensure everyone can have fun reading in the library

However, if you do something that takes away that opportunity, you’re putting the cart before the horse

Tsukasa: I see, that’s exactly something you would say, Hajime-kun. I couldn’t think of anything like that

If that’s the case, why do you still look so down, Hajime-kun? Aren’t you going to ask them to return it? 

Hajime: …Actually, the person who has one of the unreturned books has already graduated

Tsukasa: A graduate!? In other words, that person can’t come back to return the book!

How shameless to brazenly steal a book, which is the academy’s community property! I can’t forgive that! 

If you know it hasn’t been returned, then don't you have a record of who borrowed it? 

There you’ll find the culprit! You can reprimand him and have him apologize! 

Hajime: A-ahaha. Well, it’s actually… Kagehira-senpai 

Tsukasa: I didn’t think it would be Kagehira-senpai… No, even though you’re friends there’s no room for extenuating circumstances. Let’s ask him to return it right away

Previous | Next

[flowering-darkness]

dream interludes: an unintended exchange (Clio/Aria)

After teaming up with an eclectic mix of characters to figure out why the worlds are in disarray, Clio and co. learn that the scattered Jamba Hearts may play a role - and the three mage sisters of Jambandra, plus their apparent subordinate “Rogue”, are hunting the hearts for evil purposes.

One night, just after the party successfully recover their first one, Clio seems to dream of the very foe who has opposed her and the others at every turn so far - but this nightmare doesn’t play out how she expected it to.. (2158 words)

Here is the first of what will be a series of scenes from Origins, an RP I’m part of that features both Aria (my self-insert) and Clio (my KHUX OC)! I am very grateful to @mark-seins for allowing me to be so self-indulgent here.. but it’s also something with fun potential for later plot points, so =3

This is technically very pre-relationship, and the particular version of arilio for this story is going to be very much enemies-to-lovers, but.. it still felt like something I could post here as well, so I hope it’s alright that I do. I’m happy to explain any part of it if anyone wants me to ^-^

Comments and/or reblogs are always appreciated, but never a requirement. Thank you to anyone and everyone who decides to read what I write!~

Document transcript below the readmore (in case the link doesn’t work):

The events of the last few days weighed heavily on Clio’s consciousness, and she knew as she settled down for bed that they would lead to a difficult night for her even *after* she had tried to clear her mind of actively thinking about them.

Indeed, once she had finally gone off to sleep, her mind’s eye did not take long to place her in a disorienting situation - she began to dream of being trapped inside a dark corridor, while a massive Heartless loomed above her.

“Right, come on, we can do this..” she was saying - though no-one else was around to assist her in this fight. Her dreams were consistently dangerous enough that she’d honestly gotten used to being in them to some extent, even if she didn’t often remember them when she woke up.

She ran forwards to strike at the foe with her Keyblade, trying to leap up and get to its weaker points above her. The Heartless itself, a towering Assault Dragon, lunged for her with a mechanical roar as the Shadows in its core writhed angrily - but she was just about able to dodge in time, slashing away at the gears on its side. The very air around her seemed to glow as the dragon hissed out a jet of smoke and started to charge a beam of energy in its mouth. It was all she could do to try and twist it into itself, rooted to the ground as it seemed to be - but the whole thing rocked sideways with a groan of metal parts creaking together, and although the blast missed her, it also didn’t hit itself either.

“I could *really* have done with that working, y’know!” she yelled with a tut - but she was able to use her agility to her advantage, diving back around to start attacking from a new place on the body. She couldn’t really tell how long the battle had gone on for, but eventually, the scrapes and damages she had inflicted to the Heartless’ metal skeleton seemed to win out, as a final decisive blow caused the whole structure to collapse, and the Heartless to dissipate into Lux which then quickly faded.

“Phew.. There we go..” she said to the air, though a part of her almost knew that was probably only the beginning. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she looked around at the dark corridor she seemed to be in, but couldn’t make out any of its details.

Then she sensed something move behind her.

Turning around as quickly as she could, nothing seemed to be there, but she started running towards the source of the sensation. Though there was no indication of where she was from her surroundings, she found herself able to move what *felt* like forwards in the cavernous darkness, and with the light of her Keyblade still shining in her hands, she eventually managed to find an exit.

She kept going through the exit, and found herself standing in what could have been the square around the fountain in Daybreak Town; it seemed reminiscent of where she used to meet up with her fellow Keyblade wielders. Despite it being the middle of the night, the air seemed surprisingly mild in temperature, which gave the environment an odd though not unwelcome feel.

As she approached the central fountain, the same sensation arose again, and she instinctively whipped her head around to try and see its source - but, just like before, there was nothing in her view to see. She opened her mouth to speak, but found that her voice had unexpectedly disappeared. Frowning, she instead turned back towards the fountain - she could hear the quiet splashing of its water, and so thought that a drink might help free up her throat, as well as calm her nerves; she must have still been tense from the sudden fighting earlier.

When she reached the fountain’s edge at last, the way the water was agitated meant she couldn’t make out any details of her reflection in its surface - but this was quite normal. She was used to the weary feeling of being in a dream by now, and after so long of having to experience such similar events, she could even start piecing together some of the reasons behind what she went through each night - not that there were always reasons to be fathomed out, of course, but occasionally there would be something she could at least find a potential explanation for, and while she didn’t feel a need to understand every single aspect of her subconscious, the straws she was sometimes able to grasp at did nevertheless bring her some form of solace in the face of her more persistent nightmares.

(Tonight’s encounter with a massive draconic Heartless, for example, made sense in the wake of the dragon-like form taken by Ren’s Shadow, which she was so recently forced to face; while she had had a large group of allies alongside her in however close a Palace came to reality, the world of her dreams offered no such support or companionship for her now, though.)

Clio dispelled her Keyblade, blinking momentarily at how much less lit-up doing so made the space around her, and reached down into the fountain to cup some water into her hands; she found it pleasantly cool to the touch, in comparison to the strangely-balmy night. As she went to drink it, there seemed to be nothing untoward about its texture or taste - however, she realised as she did so that the sound of splashing water was not the only thing she could hear; it once again seemed like something was slowly approaching her from behind. Despite sensing this, she decided to take a deep breath and try her best to feign unawareness, fighting against the curiosity and concern rising up inside her just to see if that perhaps might let her spot the answer.

The sensation slowly increased in intensity, like a long shadow looming over her as her back was turned, but it eventually stopped increasing as the almost-silent footsteps on the stones behind her stilled. Clio could tell from listening out for their pace that they *were* footsteps, but had not seen any change in the lighting around her as she finished her drink from the fountain, so she surmised that their owner had stopped further away from her than the looming dread now hanging over her would indicate.

There was a pause, but in the end, her instincts refused to let her stay vulnerable any longer.

She turned around.

And saw a familiar cat-eared figure with long black wings.

Instantly, her eyes widened and she let out a cry, taking a step back to position herself properly and nearly falling backwards into the fountain in the process.

“Wh- You’re that Rogue girl!”

Clio’s voice rang loudly off the stone of the plaza, enough to make “Rogue”’s own eyes widen in return.

“Y-You- You saw me, then?” she(?) asked, as if confused. Her(?) ears were flattened against her(?) head.

“*Yes*, I saw you, or- see you now, at the very least!” she exclaimed. Her heart was now frantically pounding from being so startled, even if she had quite deliberately put herself in such a situation, having not known what was creeping up on her.

“What do you want?!” she then asked, defensively.

“That.. is not your concern.” she(?) replied, her(?) voice terse but not forceful. “I cannot say this has gone how it should have..”

It was now Clio’s turn to frown as her adversary’s expression - or what was visible of it, anyway - became contemplative, like she(?) was lost in her(?) own thoughts.

Something about her(?) presence seemed wrong, but she had to assume that was due to this being the first time she had seen her(?) with her(?) hood down, and could properly see her(?) head and newly-visible flowered hairpiece in full.

..Could dreams fill in details like that?

“What do you mean?” she then asked her(?), more tentatively.

At that, “Rogue” looked up at her from beneath her(?) messy, dark blonde hair.

“I didn’t expect you to take notice of me here.” she(?) then admitted, after a pause. “Such a factor can still be advantageous, I suppose, but it does complicate things..”

Clio’s frown deepened. “So I’m not supposed to be able to see you? But, of course I can see you, this is my dream!”

“That this dream is yours is true enough, but to think yourself its master is quite another.” she(?) replied. “Were that the case, you would surely have the strength to free yourself from the nightmares you suffer, yes?”

She was taken aback by that. “W-Well.. not exactly! I’ve heard of people who can make themselves dream whatever they want, and- sure, if I had that power it might let me have a decent night’s sleep for once, but-“

“So the sudden appearance of your battle before was not new to you, then. I suppose I should have known from how aptly you handled it.”

“Huh??”

By this stage, Clio was quite sure she wouldn’t have been able to keep up with Rogue’s deductions had this conversation been happening in the waking world, let alone with her feeling as exhausted as she tended to in her dreams.

“_Look_, I still don’t understand- why you’re here.” she began, trying to climb her way back to confidence. “Especially not like this. I was expecting us to just.. fight again.”

“Is that the usual course of your dreams, then?” she(?) then asked, tilting her(?) head to one side. “An endless stream of constant conflict?”

There was a pause as she then let out a grumpy sigh. “It’s either that, or I’m running for my life, or being shouted at, or some other violent scene’s playing out in front of me..”

She(?) stayed silent at that, though the silence was not a cold one.

“So, yeah, that’s why this is weird.” she continued, her expression now decidedly melancholy.

“..Wait, why am I even talking to you about this?”

Her(?) cheeks rose up behind her mask as if she(?) was smiling. “Who can say? Beyond the confines of the waking world, your heart and mind are free to express themselves as they truly would want - is that not what some believe?”

Clio frowned again. “What’s that meant to mean?!”

Her quick jump to her own defence made her sigh exasperatedly to get the rising tension out of her shoulders, but she did see how the girl(?)’s lynx-like ears had dipped downwards again from her outburst.

“..Look, you’ve been confusing me every time you’ve shown up and caused trouble.” she then began.

“First you ran circles around me and Mimi ‘til Morrigan and Kazuki arrived, but then they seemed fine with giving you Francisca back despite the fact she ordered you to kill us.

Then you set Hoa Sen off into a panic as soon as he saw you, but he also wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.

And then you corrupted Ren’s Shadow with more darkness, but didn’t even stay to finish us off.

So- who are you, Rogue? What are you trying to achieve??”

There was a long pause.

“..I am not “Rogue”, for one thing.” she(?) said quietly. “Not somewhere like here, if anywhere.”

“Huh?” It dawned on her how tense the girl(?) before her had become. “As in, that’s not.. your *name*, or-?”

She(?) shook her(?) head, which Clio realised was not a particularly clear answer, but it seemed she was - however reluctantly - willing to speak further.

“Not *here*.” she(?) repeated. “It is all that the sisters will call me, but-”

Clio tried to step forward as she(?) was talking, but had to raise her arm up to shield her face instead. From the unspecified horizon in the distance, it seemed like the sun had just started to come up - and then from either side of her, a fog began to roll in.

Though her(?) sight was not turned towards the slowly-rising dawn, she(?) could sense it reach a new stage in approaching from Clio’s reaction.

“Ah.. So the waking world sees fit to reclaim you, then.” she(?) stated. “Of course..”

“Wait a second-” She tried to close the distance between the two by running forwards, but doing so only seemed to make the fog close in more quickly, and it felt like she was sinking into the ground.

“What were you going to say??” she cried.

The thin mist now filling the air between the two was growing thicker by the second, though it retained a certain brightness nevertheless.

“Perhaps another night.” she(?) declared, her(?) voice still holding melancholy. “Though, perhaps..”

She(?) gave a sigh, but it was muffled.

The last thing Clio caught before the fog engulfed her entirely was the mysterious figure looking directly towards her.

And though her(?) mouth was obscured by a mask, she(?) nevertheless said *something*-

-which sounded a bit like “Fiore”.

[scoonsalicious]

Mother Pookie has fed her kitties well🩷🩷. There’s so many emotions idk which one i should talk about first?😭😂

BUT DANG chap 2.2 is just HOT

I am actually speechless😂 I have nothing to say except I am satisfied.

ITS SO GOOD OMG POOKIE? WHAT R U DOING TO ME? WHATT?!!😫😫

Lemme say, It didn’t take me long to hate Lilian. Like I swear, the moment she fucking said that Major looks like a SKANK gurl, fuck u.

My first impression on Major was like how Bucky saw her, a hot pretty dame that made me giggle like a teenager, making heart eyes and singing the whole world to my dick (if i have a dick)

And then throughout the chp, oh my goodness, I would’ve slap Leah the moment she starts bitching up. Major has a dang ass patience. I couldn’t.

THE THINGS I WOULD DO TO VOTE FOR BUCKYBABY TO BREAK HER HEART IN THE WORST WAY POSSIBLE (so far she’s 35% in my ‘dead’ list, better fix ur attitude if u don wanna end up like cunthage — ITS JUST BEEN 2 CHP?!)

Lindsay rubs the ick on me more than Jade (ofc Jade is worse but she dead now) but cuntly is so so so so so so so so so irritating. The absolute pick me, so called ‘one of the guys’. Ew. Even half of the team is irked by her attitude. That just says a lot.

Glad that our queen Major put her in her place. She needs more. Like, absolute humiliation (disclaimer: i dont support bullying but LILIAN FUCKING NEEDS IT)

And can we appreciate Wanda simping over Thor?😂 (you are not alone, i also dream of licking his abs — mhmmm)

Bucky and Major are purrrfect for each other. Its giving love at first sight 👀. Bucky simps hard. Like so hard. I can wait for more Bucky X Major scene (fluff,sexay — mayyybeeeee angst? i just love hurt myself)

Also, iMajor and Tony r absolutely gonna be ‘rich business badass besties’ and then them + Sam (Wanda and Nat at the back) roasting Leah. Oh what a beautiful dream~

Anyways, beautiful beautiful writing indeed. Waiting to see Bucky sexay POV next😂 Unleash the power of your blue balls. Also I can’t wait to read what your master brain had planned🌚. Love you Pookie🩷🩷🩷

PS// these past few days I was scrolling tumblr, searching for new Bucky fics/updates and honestly… I MISSED YOUU!!! I CANNOT STRESSED THAT ENOUGH!!! 😭 seeing your username the first thing when i opened tumblr made my night! i was planning on listening to songs, dwelling on my loneliness and delulu but LOOK AT ME NOW, ITS 4AM GOSH. THANK U POOKIE LOVE U HAVE A GREAT DAY

POOKIE! <3

Actual footage of me coming up to love on your comments:

I'm so glad people are enjoying 2.2! I gotta be real, I usually don't get hot and bothered when it comes time write smut, but that section? Whoa, boy... that section had me like:

(Yes, this is my second favorite gif of all time, and I will use Blanche to express my hot and bothered-ness whenever I can, lol)

I gotta tell you right now, the phrase "making heart eyes and singing the whole world to my dick (if i have a dick)" is now the highlight of my week, so I thank you for this. It's pure literary magic <3

Major is used to taking shit from peons; she was a woman in the military, after all, lol, which is why she's able to not let Lily phase her too much. Her patience will be tested, though. Where Cunthrage was just flat out unhinged, Lizard is more... selfishly insidious? Just, you know, she's not going to be kidnapping people and snapping their arms or murderously rampaging through Hydra bases or anything. (The stakes here are much, much lower, lol. Which, I guess, is going to prep us for Unbroken, where the stakes will be... Thanos-sized, lol.) I think what makes Lily feel worse, to me, is that she's far more realistic than Jade was. Like, I know girls like Lily irl; thankfully, never met a Jade (phew!). Much like Killgrave, to me, is the scariest Marvel villain, because I've encountered so many men like him in the real world.

The things I dream of doing to Thor would probably get me put on a list if he was a real person and not a fictional character, lol. Unless I'm doing AUs, I tend to stick with canon-pairings, but there is something about the idea of Wanda/Thor that I currently find very appealing, so hopefully, we will see something happen between the two of them. I think they would be adorable. And for some reason known only to my maker, I love making Wanda a little bit horny, lol. In fact, an earlier draft of Unwanted had Pocket referring to her as the Sokovian Horndog after she made some comments about Bucky's body, lol.

Is it weird that I don't plan on having Tony be too involved in this fic, because I feel like giving him a friendship with Major is like him cheating on his friendship with Pocket? That makes no sense whatsoever, lol, but I'm so protective of my girl. I'm like "Yeah, Major, I'll let you fuck Pocket's boyfriend, Bucky, but YOU CANNOT BE FRIENDS WITH HER PSUEDO-BROTHER TONY BECAUSE HE IS HERS!"

Bucky's got some sexy POV in the next sextion (see what I did there? lol) but there's going to be so much more smut in this one than Unwanted. It just feels right, lol.