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scarlet-star-witch · 10 months ago

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The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house

AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

He was used to playing for second best.

In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son.

But never from her.

She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.

He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.

It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly.

She made his miserable heart full.

Aemond couldn’t believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life.

He never believed he was worthy of her love.

And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading.

It wasn’t often their family made trips away from King’s Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it.

Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn.

“This place is disgusting.” Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground.

“Aegon.” His mother admonished with a steady glare. “The Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and they’re home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.”

“Not like they’ll offer me anything of importance.” He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and father’s desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.

His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his fun.

“Why are we even here?” Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.

“The Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.”

“I still don’t understand why that demands my presence here.” Aegon rolled his eyes.

“Our council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.” Alicent answered shortly.

Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.

It was the socialization he dreaded.

Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didn’t deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realm’s Delight.

But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.

Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well.

Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why King’s Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.

His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne.

“Viserys!” A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.

Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.

“It’s been too long, my friend.”

“Alicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.”

Aemond noted the blush on his mother’s cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time.

He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasn’t comfortable with anything else.

As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the man’s gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

“Aemond, a strong name for a strong lad.” The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasn’t going to be passed over yet again.

He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.

“You remember my wife,” The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously.

“My son and-” The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughter’s absence.

“My apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.” The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend.

“You could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?” He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughter’s antics.

Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything.

If they were in King’s Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.

Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.

“My Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-”

“It’s quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.” The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadn’t all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.

Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her.

The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.

Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding.

He was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadn’t looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room.

She looked at him first.

She smiled at him first.

It was a gesture that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.

He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.

“This place is beautiful.” Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings.

They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast.

Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated King’s Landing.

“Father should take over this place.” Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. “What? It’s much better than our shithole of a home.”

Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother’s crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave.

The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal.

The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found.

As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully.

“Hello.” Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.

“Where’s the other one?” Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing.

Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldn’t drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?”

The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them.

He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree.

She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.

As if her Septa’s teachings and her mother’s scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them.

“It is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.”

Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sister’s hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice.

“Your home is lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation.

Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself.

He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. He’d at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.

“Would you like to sit?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.

Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her.

“What are you writing?” He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words.

“Drawing actually.” She corrected. “And not very well by the looks of it.” She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.

His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago.

“They’re beautiful.”

She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting.

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

“You must be shit then because these are awful.”

Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he would’ve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him.

But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him.

A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before.

“They’re not so bad.” He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature.

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile.

She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced.

Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemond’s ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave.

He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease.

She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal.

The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didn’t bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering.

She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed.

She couldn’t stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through.

With a smile to the guard at her parent’s door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.”

Her father huffed out a laugh. “So what brings you here, Troublemaker?”

She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause.

“I want to go with you to King’s Landing.”

Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer.

Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain.

They couldn’t say no to her.

By the next morning, she stood at her father’s side as their ship sailed to King’s Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer.

A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow.

She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to King’s Landing.

She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.

Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her father’s side.

She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm.

With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldn’t interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat.

The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her father’s side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair.

Her eyes fell to Queen Alicent’s children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated.

She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princess’ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table.

Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brother’s lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached.

“Hello, my Lady, I hope King’s Landing is treating you well.” Helaena greeted the girl happily.

“It is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.”

“We are delighted to have you.” Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. “The ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.”

“I’d love to.” She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held.

“You should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.” Helaena added excitedly.

“By the Gods, Helaena.” Aegon groaned beside her.

“Collection?” She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.

“My insects. I’ve collected quite a beautiful group of them. I’d love to show you.”

Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against.

“I’d be delighted to see them.” She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. “I’ve also heard wonderful things about your library. I’m eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.”

Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.

“I can show you to the library.” Aemond offered, finally making his presence known.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you from your duties.”

“You won’t.” He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. “There are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.”

He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously.

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.”

He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet.

By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her.

She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before.

“This is incredible.” She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.

They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had.

Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.

But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time she’d drawl out ‘tell me more’ or ‘what happened next’ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears.

He had never felt so important.

King’s Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didn’t have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.

Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history.

It fascinated her, but she couldn’t deny she loved to hear Aemond’s voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.

A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants.

“Slow down, my love, you’re going to choke.” Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm.

“Sorry.” She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior.

“Your eagerness wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?” He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day.

“Helaena and I are good friends.” She shrugged, effectively dodging her father’s prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasn’t from him or his sweet, quiet wife.

She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door.

“Be safe!” He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl.

She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.

“Aemond!” She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her.

“Took you long enough.” He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him.

“I’m not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.”

It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldn’t wrap his head around.

He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it did.

~~~

She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic

princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.

“What is this thing?”

Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. “No, you’re safe.”

The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands.

Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.

“You don’t have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.”

The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.

“I like being here with you.” She said softly. “I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.

“Hello, Brother.” She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.

“Hello.” He spoke, though his eyes never left his sister’s friend. “What are you doing?”

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

Helaena, having expected a ‘no’, given it was always Aemond’s answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.

The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she weren’t there, the comfortable ease between them thriving.

Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to King’s Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.

Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didn’t care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window.

“Do you do this every day, Princess?” She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.

“Most days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.”

The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious.

Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re digging for bugs, Brother.” Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didn’t see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.

Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaena’s eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.

The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friend’s face, and she called his name.

“Hmm?”

“What are these?” She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.

“Marigolds.” He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. “You don’t have these in Ixtal?”

“No. It’s a shame, they’re beautiful.”

Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower.

“Here.”

She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair.

The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“You two are pathetic.”

“It’s not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.” She snarked easily, making Aemond’s eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.

Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brother’s figure as he stormed off.

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.”

“Someone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why can’t it be me?” She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryen’s life.

“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why would anything happen to me?”

“Because… he’s… it’s Aegon.” He stressed, as if his brother’s existence was enough explanation.

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

Aemond’s eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries.

A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor.

She recognized the boy immediately.

“Aemond.” She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze.

But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her.

“What happened?” She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.

“Nothing.”

“Aemond.” She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew.

He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what happened.”

Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her.

He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasn’t in the mood.

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

“Fine. We can go together.” She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.

Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves.

He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.

Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him.

“Are you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze.

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair.

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemond’s heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless.

“They said they found a dragon for me.” He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadn’t come true that afternoon.

She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense.

“They gave me a pig.”

Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed.

“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be so cruel to you.”

“They’re right. It’s pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.”

“Aemond-”

“Maybe I’m not worthy and I’ll never get a dragon, maybe that’s why my egg never hatched. I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop it.” She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. “You are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.”

Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“What if I never find one?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence.

“You will. I know you will.” She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. “There are plenty of Targaryens that didn’t claim dragons until later in life.”

Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history.

“Aemond, we’re young, we still have so much life to live. It’s not over because you don’t have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what you’ve always wanted.”

The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her.

He didn’t think he could ever find the words to tell her.

“You’d be with me, won’t you? For my first ride?”

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.”

She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. “Then I’ll be there.”

Aemond’s glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around.

How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.

His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didn’t give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerys’ hands on her made his blood boil.

Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra.

He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised.

He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her.

She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness he’d managed to find for himself.

He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.

“They seem to get along well.” His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again.

His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his father’s twinkling eyes.

“Yes, he seems to be quite taken with her.” Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile.

“They’d make a fine match.” His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldn’t be shackled to a bastard.

He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldn’t take her away from him, they couldn’t give her to that bastard.

He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes.

By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him.

The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Aemond!”

His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her.

She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book.

He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. “Why didn’t you join us?”

He shrugged, he couldn’t very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend.

“I didn’t want to intrude.” He spoke softly.

Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond.

She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him.

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him.

“You could never intrude.”

Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him.

“You don’t have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I won’t stop you.” He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him.

“I’d rather be with you.”

Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant.

She chose him.

No one had ever chosen him.

She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished she’d been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.

She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure.

A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave.

She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.

“Darling, there was an… incident on Driftmark.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. “What happened?”

“I wasn’t privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.”

The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free.

“Is he alright?”

Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him.

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.”

A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him.

The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen family’s arrival.

On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother.

She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached.

Helaena didn’t let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed.

“Are you alright? Where’s Aemond? Will he be ok?” She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words.

“It’s alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.” Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girl’s shoulders.

“Where is he?”

“He’s been taken to the Maester’s solar. He’ll have to spend some time there while he heals.”

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

“What I told him.” Helaena interjected calmly. “He gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.”

She looked at Helaena with shock. “He… he claimed a dragon?”

She couldn’t make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her.

After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maester’s wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, she’d drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maester’s wing and ask to see Aemond.

She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying.

It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could.

On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.”

She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her.

She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before.

She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.

The hurt she felt mirrored Aemond’s own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could.

He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks.

His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldn’t stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar.

She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his mother’s face on hers.

“It’s been a few weeks. She’s been worrying herself sick.” His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile.

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair.

“Aegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her mother’s name day. They had all been invited, but with his father’s fading health and his mother’s refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities.

“Aemond.” His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear.

“I don’t want to go.” He mumbled, one of the few sentences he’d managed over the past few weeks.

His mother sighed in defeat and didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred.

The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming.

The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted.

She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him.

Aemond’s face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid.

“What are you doing here?” He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye.

“I just wanted- I wanted… we’re leaving soon.”

It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.

“Get out.” He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.

“Aemond, I-”

“Get out! I don’t want you here!” He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks.

Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life.

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!”

She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste.

Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost.

Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything.

She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet.

The sound of the waves weren’t as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasn’t as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasn’t as exciting as she remembered.

“Darling?”

She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side.

“Are you alright? I thought I’d see you dancing all night.”

“I’m fine.”

The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in King’s Landing. The girl she saw now wasn’t the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.

“Was it not what you expected?”

She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. “No, it’s- King’s Landing is lovely.”

Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together.

“I couldn’t help but notice your friend isn’t here.”

She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away.

“Aemond?”

She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave.

“He’s not my friend anymore.” She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat.

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People don’t exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.”

She stayed silent, taking in her mother’s words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didn’t lessen the hurt she felt.

“You can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I don’t think that is truly what you want.”

She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in King’s Landing, of what she’d be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didn’t want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Her mother assured her. “Or else we’ll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.”

The smile on her mother’s face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful.

Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldn’t start now.

She clutched onto Helaena’s waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to King’s Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong.

Her first ride shouldn’t have belonged to Helaena, it shouldn’t have been with Dreamfyre. It wasn’t what she promised.

As they dismounted, Helaena’s hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort.

As they parted, Helaena promised she’d spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.

She smiled, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in King’s Landing would hold.

She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadn’t put them there before she left.

She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived.

It suddenly struck her.

They were marigolds.

She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them.

Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it could’ve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile.

She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes.

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow.

The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.

She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.

She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.

“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.”

The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior.

They were the last things on her mind.

Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together.

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him.

She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation.

Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers.

Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry.

He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain.

Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world.

“I’m sorry.” She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. “I shouldn’t have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and I’m sorry. I never meant-”

Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time.

He couldn’t get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.”

She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldn’t recognize.

He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him.

She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him.

“I’ve never seen you that angry before.” She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day.

Aemond sighed and bowed his head.

“I…” He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. “I hated to see you look at me like that.” Was the only thing he could think to say.

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

“I was horrified.” She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. “But not of you. Never of you.” She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears.

“But-”

“Aemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain… it hurts me.”

The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.

“You… you’re not-”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.

“I could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.”

The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath.

He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.

He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child.

But none of it mattered.

She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.

Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.

“But, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.”

Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter.

His first laugh since the incident.

From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side.

The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish.

Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.

The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her son’s willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying.

“We cannot let this go any further.” Her father spoke from beside her.

“I can’t very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.”

“Let them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond can’t get any ideas about marrying this girl.”

Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate.

“Would it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.”

“Ixtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that won’t change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegon’s claim.” Otto hissed angrily.

Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl.

But they all had a duty to perform.

Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit.

“Where are we going?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed.

“Vhagar doesn’t stay there. She doesn’t fit.” Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.

Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. She’d been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beast’s sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins.

Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm.

“I would never put you in danger.” He assured her. “Vhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.”

“If I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.”

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly.

Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagar’s enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time.

She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her.

“Relax.” Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers.

The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them.

She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagar’s protest to the stranger before her.

Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands.

She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasn’t a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on.

Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer.

She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place.

He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her.

She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life.

“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her.

She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker.

She reached out and took Aemond’s hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.

“It’s alright.” He assured her.

He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe.

A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagar’s side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep.

The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays.

The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers.

Seeing her now, fearless by his mount’s side, only confirmed what he already knew.

She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him.

I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fic

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moldycheezeit · 1 month ago

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Chapter 1

You were a good kid, great kid even. But no one ever really knew, well maybe your high school science teacher and Alfred, but they were the only ones.

Someone out there is probably thinking ‘‘well what about your mom she would surely care?” Well to bad she wasn't there, well at first she was, during the pregnancy, but when it was time for you to come into the world all of a sudden she didn’t fit into said world. So death took her away from you minutes after you were born.

For that and maybe because you look like her, they probably wouldn’t know because they barely look let alone talk to you, they neglected you and it hurt because these are the people who are supposed to love and care for you. But with the help of Alfred you learned to take care of yourself which leads you to this moment. Like right now where you are standing at this very moment. At the school's science fair because you, even if people don’t believe it because of how pretty you are, are really smart when it comes to science. You learned for your love of science by reading a book that your mom had written and left behind after she passed. She left behind many more things for you but this stood out among the rest. It was mostly filled with ideas on things to create and ways that could make it possible. So you tried the one that you found the most interesting and figured out a way to create it. Of course it took a bunch of trial and error but you made it work with what you had. Seeing as Bruce never gave you any money ,like an allowance, you had to find scraps to make your inventions work. Now let’s get back to that competition.

You are currently standing next to the table with your invention ‘the gauntlet’ yea you didn’t know what to name it. What it can do is tell you any sickness or disease if you were to type in the symptoms of your patient. It takes the form of a bracelet but when activated it basically takes up the back of your hand and half of your forearm. It has two screens, one that you use to type and the other that gives off a hologram-like screen. Yea it’s clunky and doesn’t look right at the moment, but for your first model it’s great.

While standing around waiting for the judges to come see your product you see a man. He looked to be in his 40’s and had short brown hair, a weird looking goatee, and was wearing… sunglasses? Indoors…welp at least he’s not wearing something stupid like a bat suit. He does look familiar but you can’t remember were from. You notice he’s looking around at the invitations and talking to the creators. And he seems to be heading in your direction like right now. He’s 5 tables away, 4, 3, 2– “Hey kid what’s this you got?” The man is smiling like he’s actually interested in what you have to say. That is not really normal. “This is a gauntlet I created to tell you of any sickness or disease if you were to type in the symptoms of your patient.” You had responded to the man’s question confidently. “Wow you really programmed it to do all that.” He questioned, interested in the gauntlet that sits in the display case. “Yes, it took me a while to do it though.” You had said, uttering the last part to yourself. “ I can imagine seeing as I've done a bunch of stuff just like it.” The uh.. Weirdo, yea lets go with that, had told you. Now that surprised you, But before you could ask any questions the weirdo ,as you've dubbed him, started walking away. “Alright see you later kid, hope you win with that invention you got.” you could hear his voice starting to fade a bit as he walked away. And all you could think was ‘ Man was a weirdo.’

It's been a while since the judges had come over to your table, because right now they were deciding on who the top 3 will be. You kinda hoped one of them would be the red haired kid who made that moving metal arm out of scraps. To you it was just really cool. You can't help but hope to get in the top 3 as well because the winners get cash. ‘ I need that money so I can create more inventions, yea using what I have on hand is good but there is a limit of how much I can do with it. Not like Bruce would give me any.’ you had rolled your eyes thinking about that last sentence. Hopefully with the creations your mom thought of they could help you get enough money to never rely on that man again.

Just as you ended that thought the speakers in the hall started projecting what the announcer was saying into the mic. “ Can all the contestants make their way to the stage, the judges have finally made their decisions.” You and all the other contestants start making your way to the front where the judges are. luckily it's not that far of a walk and when you get there you all stand in a crowd. when you all get there the announcer starts speaking “ even though we had a lot of good intentions this year only about three of you can make the top. so we'll start from 3rd to 1st place in order of who got which.” As the crowd stands there in anticipation the announcer starts speaking again “ In third place is kidd with his metal arm that he has made to help people who are missing limbs, we hope to see more in the future for him.” as people clap you see the red-haired kid you saw earlier walking up to get onto the stage in the announcer hands him a third place medal and a check with money on it. “ Now for second place Elijah who has made a machine that can take packages of food and can make them into full meals.” Just like before you had seen this kid Elijah start walking up to the stage and when he got on the stage he had received his second place medal in his check that he had won. “And finally for our first place we have a (y/n) Wayne who has shown us a gauntlet. That can help people in the medical field identify diseases if they have a hard time figuring out what they are or what the patient has.” You're surprised to hear that you knew you were smart but you didn't know you would win first place. As you walk up to the stage you have a rush of excitement in you. Finally, you can have money to help create your inventions, your mom's inventions. you can finally fulfill the dream she had that she wrote in her books from before you were born.But when you go on stage the announcer only handed you the first place medal you were surprised to not see a check that came with it then out of the corner of your eye you see the same weirdo man from earlier with a big check walking towards you. “ Hey kid you won just like expected, hopefully you can put this money to use and make more amazing creations like the one you made for today.” But you couldn't help but say “ you look familiar.” and happily he answers your question saying “I'm Tony Stark kid.” Ah.so that's why he looked so familiar.

If you watch one piece see what I did there. ٩(^ᗜ^ )و I thought it would be a funny thing to put in. Also sorry I keep posting at like 1am its really the only time I'm free

Taglist : @cxcilla @starslightzz @jackchanzzz @simpingpandas @galaxypurplerose @spqce-buns @peche4et3chocolat @ryuushou @moon0goddess @fanficloverlol

#batsis!reader #neglected reader #platonic #platonic batfam #tony stark x reader #teen!reader #yandere batfam #moldycheezeit

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lovelyspring7 · 6 months ago

Text

Silver Pearl (Pt. 2) | Yandere JJK x Reader

Preview: Jungkook is used to getting what he wants, and now, he wants you. Saying "no" isn’t an option. Will you find a way to break free from his relentless grip, or is freedom just an illusion in the billionaire’s twisted mind?

Word count: 13k

Genre: Yandere

Pairing: CEO Billionaire Jungkook x reader, short mentions of Cha Eunwoo & Jung Jaehyun.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, non consensual touching, manipulation, controlling & emotionally abusive behaviour.

Disclaimer: This type of content is not suitable for all audiences and I do not condone any of the presented behaviour. This is purely for entertainment and fictional purposes and I don’t think any BTS member would act like this.

Authors note: The second part of Pearl series is here! Hope you enjoy! Can’t wait to know what you guys think of this long awaited chapter, my asks are always open!💜

Read Part 1 Here | Read Part 3 Here

With trembling legs, you let Jungkook guide you back to the bedroom. His grip on your hand was gentle, but the fear lingering in your chest made your entire body tense. The warmth of his touch, once comforting, now felt like a chain binding you to him.

You couldn’t believe how quickly everything had spiraled. Just hours ago, he was affectionate, kind even, and now... Now, the man standing before you was a stranger, someone whose darkness you had never truly seen until tonight.

As you entered the bedroom, Jungkook released your hand and sighed, rubbing his neck as though the tension of the evening had caught up to him. You stood near the door, watching him closely, unsure of your next move.

Jungkook’s smile softened as he turned to you, almost as if the events from earlier hadn’t happened. “Come here, princess.” He patted the bed beside him, his eyes urging you to comply.

You hesitated, but his gaze darkened, and you knew that defying him right now wasn’t an option. Slowly, you made your way over to the bed and sat down, keeping your distance from him.

He noticed but said nothing, instead reaching over to pull you closer. You flinched slightly, but Jungkook ignored it, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as if it was the most natural thing. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know. I could never hurt you.”

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to spill. How could he speak so calmly, as if he hadn't just confessed he had someone killed? As if you weren’t trapped?

He stroked your hair, his voice a low murmur. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But I promise, everything I do is for you, princess.”

Your stomach twisted, anger and fear bubbling just beneath the surface, but you forced yourself to stay still.

Jungkook leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’ll see,” he whispered against your skin. “You’ll see that this is how it’s supposed to be.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you fought to hold back the sob that was building. But Jungkook noticed your shaking body, his brows furrowing in concern. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re just overwhelmed.”

“I-I’m tired,” you whispered, hoping he’d give you space.

He paused, then nodded, giving you a small understanding smile. “Of course. You’ve had a long day.”

Jungkook stood up and helped you under the covers, tucking you in with a tenderness that felt so out of place after everything that had happened. You watched as he moved around the bedroom, dimming the lights and making his way to the other side of the bed. He slid under the covers beside you, pulling you close to him. His arms wrapped around you, caging you in. You could feel his heartbeat against your back. It was steady, calm, completely at odds with the storm of emotions raging inside you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he whispered into the darkness, his lips brushing against the back of your neck.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you lay there, trapped in his embrace.

As Jungkook’s arms tightened around you, the weight of everything crashed down. Your heart pounded in your chest, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t slow your racing thoughts. The room was quiet, but your mind was a storm.

Lying there, trapped in his embrace, the reality of what you had gotten yourself into settled in, cold and suffocating. You didn’t dare to move. Tears welled in your eyes, hot and uncontrollable. You blinked hard, trying to stop them from spilling, but it was no use. Slowly, silently, they rolled down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to stay quiet. You couldn’t let him know. You couldn’t let him see you like this. He might ask questions, might tighten his grip, the last thing you wanted was for him to notice.

The warmth of his body behind you felt suffocating, a reminder of how close he always was, how there was no escaping him. The man you once thought was kind and protective had revealed something far darker, something far more dangerous. You’d never felt more alone, more trapped.

Fucking rich people.

How did this happen? How have you gotten yourself into this? You cursed yourself, cursed the choices that led you here, cursed him for being so cruel under the surface of his affection. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You buried your face deeper into the pillow, muffling any sound that might slip out. The sobs you held back were painful, your throat raw from trying to stay quiet, but you had no choice. You had to be strong, had to stay silent. For now, that was the only thing you could control.

You lay there for what felt like hours, the tears eventually slowing as exhaustion began to weigh down on you. But even as sleep finally pulled you under, a deep, gnawing fear lingered in the pit of your stomach.

__________

As you stirred from sleep, your body felt heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion of a restless, sleepless night. Your head pounded, and your eyes were swollen from the silent crying that had consumed you hours before. The fear that had gripped you the night before lingered, but it wasn’t the same. As you lay there in the empty bed, staring at the ceiling, something else began to stir inside you.

Anger.

The sadness and fear that had paralyzed you last night shifted into a burning rage. The more you thought about it, the more the fury built. How could he act this way, treat you like something he owned, then sleep so peacefully beside you as if nothing had happened? It was sickening. It was maddening. He had controlled you with his words, his touch, trapping you, and you were done being afraid.

You threw the covers off and sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, the cold floor beneath your feet doing nothing to calm the anger simmering in your chest.

The scent of sweet vanilla wafted through the air, drawing your attention to the faint sounds of movement coming from the kitchen. He was up, and from the smell of it, making breakfast like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t terrified you into submission last night.

You walked to the door, every step fueled by the fire raging inside you. Reaching the kitchen, you saw him standing there, humming softly to himself, completely at ease as he moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

Jungkook glanced up as you entered, his face lighting up with a smile that felt so wrong given everything that had happened. “Good morning, princess,” he said warmly, “Sleep well?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, the fury bubbling up again. He was acting like nothing had happened. How could he be so calm, so collected?

“Come sit down,” he said, turning back to the stove. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

You stood there, staring at his back, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. He hadn’t even acknowledged the hell he put you through last night. You wanted to scream from how frustrated you were. But instead, you swallowed down the anger, pushing it deep inside for now.

Without saying a word, you walked over to the table and sat down. Jungkook continued to hum softly, oblivious to the storm building inside you.

But for now, you waited.

Jungkook set the plate in front of you with a wide, satisfied smile. Pancakes, perfectly golden and stacked high, topped with fresh berries and drizzled with syrup. The sweet scent of vanilla and sugar filled the air, tempting and warm. It was one of your favorites, something he knew well.

He sat down across from you, still acting like everything was perfectly normal. “I made them just the way you like,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate.

You stared at the pancakes, unmoving. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the table as you felt the anger inside you start to rise again.

Jungkook looked up when you didn’t immediately dig in. “What’s wrong baby, you don't like pancakes anymore?” He asked with curiosity.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, eyes fixed on the untouched pancakes in front of you.

You lifted your gaze, and there he was, watching you intently. His jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, breaking the tense silence.

“You were so good to me last night,” his voice was calm, but edged with something darker. “So why the sudden change?”

“Eat.” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for arguments.

“I said, I'm not hungry.” You bite back.

He exhaled through his nose as he put his fork down.

“What? Are you mad that things aren't going your way for once?” It was a bold sentence but it needed to be said. You weren't going to let him have his way with you. Staring back at him you saw how his jaw visibly clenched, irritation flickering across his features as he fought to maintain his composure.

“I’m gonna ask you one last time,” he said, voice steady but charged, “Eat your breakfast.”

“No.”

The word barely left your mouth before he stood abruptly, the force of it sending your heart racing. Before you could process what was happening, his hands were on you, lifting you out of your chair with a swift, almost casual strength. He carried you toward the kitchen counter, his grip firm but controlled. He set you down on the cold, smooth surface, positioning you so that you were sitting on the edge, your legs dangling. The cold countertop sent a shiver through you, but it was nothing compared to the icy tension in the air.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he muttered, his breath warm against your ear, his tone a dangerous mix of exasperation and something much darker.

Your breath caught as he stood close, his presence overwhelming. Panic flickered at the edges of your mind, but you forced yourself to stay calm, pushing down the fear. His grip remained firm, yet disturbingly gentle, as though he was handling something delicate, something he could break if he chose.

“Let me go,” you demanded, your voice shaky but defiant.

He paused, his eyes scanning your face, searching for a crack in your resolve. Submission, perhaps. Doubt. He wanted to see you break, but you wouldn’t.

“You’re testing me,” he said, his voice low and threatening, but his hold on you never tightened. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” his gaze drilling into yours.

“I’m not your doll,” you said through gritted teeth, meeting his stare head-on, refusing to let him see the fear in you.

His lips curled into something resembling a smile, but there was no warmth in it, only cold amusement. “Doll?” he echoed, his voice soft but dangerous. “No baby. But you’re mine. And you’ll do as I say.”

You could feel your pulse pounding in your temples, but you didn’t look away. “No, I won't.”

His expression darkened, and for a split second, something almost like disappointment flashed in his eyes. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that unnerving calm. He leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your cheek.

“You’re going to eat,” he whispered, his voice like velvet over steel. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

His words wrapped around you, sickly sweet yet suffocating, the threat lingering beneath his loving tone impossible to ignore. He put his hand on your chin and held it firm, his thumb tracing your lip with unsettling affection. The way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world, only made the whole situation feel even more twisted.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you hated yourself for it—the crack of desperation he would no doubt savor.

He tilted his head, his expression softening into something almost affectionate, his thumb pausing its slow movement. “Please?” he whispered back, as if you’d just said something sweet. His grip relaxed, but not enough for you to break free. “Oh, Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. But you don’t have to be. Everything I do, it’s for us. To keep you safe and close to me, to give you everything you deserve and more.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck, cradling you as if you were delicate, breakable. “Be good for me.” he murmured, his voice a gentle lullaby laced with obsession.

His closeness was suffocating, his words dripping with a distorted kind of love that made your skin crawl. “This isn’t okay,” you managed to say, your voice trembling as you met his gaze, refusing to let him see how completely terrified you were.

He smiled, but it was filled with a dark, dangerous affection, as though he found your defiance adorable rather than threatening. “You’ll understand one day,” he whispered softly, his fingers tightening just slightly at the back of your neck, holding you in place as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ll see how much I care.”

He straightened, his gaze locking onto yours again, and in that moment, you could see how deep his obsession ran, how far he was willing to go. He gently released his hold on your neck and stepped back, his eyes still glued to you, watching every breath you took.

“Now,” he said, his voice soft but commanding, “you’re going to eat. And you’re going to stop fighting me, my love. You understand that?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, every fiber of your being screaming to run, but you were trapped—trapped by his words, by the twisted love in his eyes, by the knowledge that he would never let you go.

He slowly stepped back, leaving you on the cold countertop as he walked to the table to grab the plate of pancakes. When he returned, he held it in front of you.

You got goosebumps as you stared down at the plate, the pancakes now cold and uninviting, but it wasn't the food that made you hesitate. It was the weight of his gaze on you, expectant and unwavering, his dark eyes daring you to defy him again. You could feel the unspoken threat hanging in the air, just beneath the thin veneer of affection he wore so well.

Slowly, you reached for the fork, your fingers trembling as they closed around the handle. You weren't hungry. You could barely breathe, let alone eat, but refusing him again felt like

stepping into something far more dangerous. You could sense his satisfaction as you lifted the fork to your mouth, even though every movement felt like surrender.

"That's it," he murmured softly, his voice low and filled with twisted pride, as though he'd just coaxed a frightened animal into trusting him. "Good girl. See how easy it can be when you stop fighting?"

The words made your stomach churn, but you swallowed the bite, forcing yourself not to react. You couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply he affected you. Every inch of your body screamed to run, to push the plate away, but you knew he wouldn't allow that. Not now. Not ever.

He watched you closely, eyes flickering with possessive adoration as you took another bite. It wasn't the food he was concerned with, it was your submission, your compliance, the quiet thrill he got from watching you bend to his will. "That's my girl," he whispered, his fingers brushing your hair back, tucking it gently behind your ear. His touch was soft, almost tender, but it made your skin crawl all the same. "I knew you'd come around. You just need a little... encouragement."

You set the fork down, unable to stomach another bite, but the gesture didn't seem to bother him. He stepped closer, standing between your knees now, his hands resting lightly on your thighs, his thumbs tracing small circles in a way that would've been comforting if it weren't him.

"I do this because I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips brushing your skin in an unsettling mockery of a kiss. "I know you haven't seen it yet, but you will. You'll understand. No one will ever care for you like I do. No one will ever love you like I do."

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse hammered in your ears. “You can't force me to feel the same," you whispered, barely able to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He paused, his lips still hovering near your skin, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd pushed too far. But then, he smiled- a slow, unsettling smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "Oh, Princess," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "You don't have to say it. I can see it in you, even if you don't realize it yet. I'll wait.”

His hands slid up your thighs, his grip firm but not painful, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm patient, you see. I'm willing to wait until you come to your senses. But make no mistake," he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over yours now, the intimacy of it sickening, "you're mine. Whether you admit it now or later, it doesn't matter. You belong to me."

You bit down on your lip, willing yourself not to tremble under his intense gaze. He lingered there, his breath warm against your mouth, daring you to react. When you stayed silent, he straightened, the satisfaction in his expression unmistakable.

"Good," he whispered, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling away. He turned his back, walking calmly to the sink, as though the entire conversation had been perfectly normal. "You'll see, love. One day, you'll thank me for all of this."

__________

After finishing breakfast and clearing the table, you felt the need to wash away the lingering tension from the morning. You turned to him, trying to keep your voice light.

“Hey, I’m going to take a shower,” you said, heading toward the bathroom.

He looked up from where he was drying the dishes, his brow furrowing slightly. “A shower? Why now?”

“Just to freshen up,” you replied, forcing a smile. “I feel a bit gross after breakfast.”

He put the dish towel down, turning his full attention to you. “I can help with that,” he said, his voice low and slightly playful.

You hesitated, a slight chill running down your spine. “That’s okay. I can manage on my own.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he maintained calm. “You know I just want to help you feel good. How about I join you?”

You took a step back, a mix of apprehension and defiance flooding your mind. “I’d really rather be alone right now,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone firm but sweet. “It’s just a quick shower.”

He stepped closer, his expression softening, but you could sense the underlying tension. “You don’t need to be alone. I can make it more enjoyable. We could have fun together.”

“I just need a few minutes to myself,” you said, keeping your gaze steady. “Please, can’t you let me have that?”

For a moment, he looked taken aback, as if your request was unexpected. But then his expression hardened, the warmth fading from his eyes. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide from me,” he replied, his voice steady but tinged with frustration.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not hiding. I just want some space to gather my thoughts. That’s all.”

He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening slightly.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” you insisted, trying to sound convincing. “I’ll be right in the bathroom. You can stay close if that makes you feel better.”

He considered your words for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. Finally, he sighed, stepping back a little. “Fine, super quick then. I don’t want to be away from you for too long.”

You nodded, relief flooding through you.

As you headed into the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, watching as you closed the door. You turned on the water, letting it run as you leaned against the cool tiles. You needed this time alone to clear your head, to breathe without his suffocating presence hovering over you.

As the warm water cascaded over you in the shower, you allowed yourself a few precious moments to breathe. You closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of the water to drown out the thoughts of him.

What could you do to escape him? It was a dangerous game, but you had to find a way. You needed a strategy, a way to manipulate him into letting his guard down. If you played your cards right, you might be able to find a window of opportunity to slip away.

Your mind raced as you lathered shampoo into your hair. First, you needed to build his trust. You’d seen how quickly his mood could shift from affectionate to possessive, and you had to navigate that carefully. If you could make him believe that you were accepting of his love, that you were starting to see things his way, perhaps he would let you have more freedom, time alone, maybe even time away from him.

Once you rinsed out the shampoo, you continued your thoughts, focusing on the idea of creating a facade of compliance. “I can play along,” you thought, the water washing away not just the soap, but your anxiety as well. If I show him that I’m willing to embrace his twisted version of love, he might relax his grip.

Maybe you could start asking for small favors, things that seemed harmless but could lead to more significant opportunities. If you could convince him to let you go to school, or to see a friend, it would give you the chance to formulate a real escape plan. You could text someone for help or find a way to contact the outside world without him knowing.

The idea of appearing genuinely affectionate could work to your advantage too. If you made him believe that you cared for him, that you were falling into his idea of love, he might not suspect anything. You could ask to do something nice for him, like cooking dinner or watching a movie together, to further endear yourself to him. Keeping him engaged and distracted would be crucial.

Rinsing off the last of the soap on your body, you rehearsed the plan in your head. Every word had to be perfect. You needed to make him feel reassured, secure in the idea that you were staying, that you belonged to him, because if you could make him believe that, maybe, just maybe, he’d let his guard down. And that sliver of trust could be your chance to escape.

Wrapping yourself in a white plush robe, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. As you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, Jungkook was already there, waiting. His eyes immediately flicked over you, and there was something possessive in the way he watched, as if even a moment without you was too long.

“See? I told you I’d be quick,” you said, forcing a lightness into your tone. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

His gaze softened slightly as he smiled back at you, and for a moment, you felt a rush of confidence. Maybe, just maybe, you could find a way out of this after all.

“Feeling better, princess?” he asked softly, though his eyes held an edge. “I picked out something for you.”

You glanced at the clothes laid out on the bed, one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. You hesitated, trying to keep your expression neutral. Wearing his clothes would make him feel in control. But you needed to give him the illusion that you were trying to please him while still asserting some level of independence, and can't go from a zero to a hundred.

You forced a small smile. “Thank you, Jungkook, but I was thinking I could pick out something myself today. Maybe one of my old clothes?” Your voice was light, casual, like it was no big deal.

He crossed the room in just a few strides, standing close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read something hidden in your words. “You don’t like what I picked out for you?” His voice was low, but it carried a sharp undertone. A test.

You swallowed, keeping your gaze soft and affectionate, even as tension wound tight in your chest. “It’s not that. I just thought it’d be fun to wear something different. But if you want me to wear this, I will.” You reached out to touch the hoodie, hoping the gesture would calm him.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened briefly, but his eyes softened as they roamed your face, as if trying to understand you fully. Gently, he lifted his hand to cup your chin, his thumb grazing your cheek tenderly. He tilted your head up, making you meet his gaze.

“You don’t have to worry, my love,” he murmured, his voice warm but firm. “I’ll always take care of you. Let me handle everything, okay.”

His words were filled with affection, but beneath them, there was still an unmistakable note of control.

You fought against the instinct to pull away, keeping your voice soft and steady. “I know, and I’m trying. I just thought you might like seeing me in something else, something like silk. But I’ll wear whatever you want.”

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of his gaze heavy on your skin. Then, finally, his lips twitched into a small, satisfied smile. The decision was final in his smile.

As Jungkook reached for the robe, you instinctively tightened your grip on it, he gently tugged it from your grasp. Panic flared in your chest as the soft fabric slipped down, but you reacted quickly, clutching the robe just before it fully exposed you. Only your shoulder and part of your collarbone were visible, the rest of the robe held tightly against your chest.

His eyes traced the newly exposed skin, lingering for a moment, before flicking up to meet your gaze. A mix of emotions flickered in his expression, something between satisfaction and curiosity, as though he was testing your boundaries, watching how far you’d go to resist.

“You don’t need to hide from me,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle, though laced with possessiveness.

You grip firmly on the robe as you carefully shielded yourself.

Ironically, even then as a stripper, you’d never shown much of yourself. Most of the outfits you wore, body suits and lingerie, had always covered more than they revealed. It was a kind of armor, a way to maintain some control over your own body, despite the prying eyes watching you night after night.

He paused, clearly not used to being denied, even in such a small way. His hand brushed your arm, fingers ghosting over your bare shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, as you let him pull the hoodie down over your head. Even as the oversized fabric enveloped you, you kept your grip on the robe beneath it, protecting yourself, both from the cold and from the vulnerability of being completely exposed to him.

As Jungkook stepped back, admiring how the hoodie looked on you, his gaze shifted to your wet hair, droplets falling onto the fabric. He frowned slightly, a hint of concern crossing his face. "Your hair's dripping water" he said softly, reaching out to brush a strand behind your ear. "I don’t want you catching a cold."

Without waiting for your response, he turned toward the vanity. "Let me get you a hair tie."

As soon as his back was turned, your heart raced, knowing you had just seconds. You glanced quickly at the bed where the sweatpants were lying. Without thinking, you dropped the robe that was covering your waist down. Moving swiftly but silently, you grabbed the sweatpants and stepped into them, pulling them up just as Jungkook returned with the hair tie in hand.

His eyes immediately went to the sweatpants now covering your legs. For a brief moment, his smile faltered, and you could see a flicker of disappointment in his expression. His gaze lingered on the fabric, and the tension between you grew heavier.

He had been expecting something different, a chance to savor the control he had over you in this moment, and now, it was slipping. You saw the sadness in his eyes, subtle but unmistakable, as he handed you the hair tie.

"You were quick," he said softly, his tone gentle but tinged with regret. His fingers brushed the fabric of the sweatpants lightly, as if he were reconsidering what to say next. "I just wanted to help."

You forced a smile, trying to smooth things over. "I know," you replied, taking the hair tie from him. "I just got cold and... I thought it would be better." You paused, meeting his eyes, hoping the reassurance in your voice was enough. "But I appreciate everything you do for me. Really."

He exhaled slowly, his hand falling back to his side. He nodded, though you could still feel that lingering disappointment in the air.

“Let’s not think about it too much, okay?” he said, his voice dipping into that sweet tone he used when trying to soothe over any conflict. “Why don’t we relax for a bit? We could watch a movie, something we both enjoy. How about that?”

You nodded, keeping the smile on your face. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

Without another word, Jungkook took your hand and guided you toward the living room, where the plush couch awaited. As he set up the movie, you could feel his presence behind you, close and attentive, his fingers brushing your back as if testing the waters. Once everything was ready, he sat down next to you, immediately pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.

As the movie went on, you could feel his eyes on you more than the screen. Every so often, his hands would drift, brushing over your thighs, running along your back, and occasionally tightening as if to remind you that you were his. His touch became bolder, more insistent, until it started to feel like he was less interested in the movie and more focused on you.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to redirect his attention to the screen. "This part's really good," you said lightly, gesturing toward the TV, but he wasn’t paying attention. His lips pressed against your neck, lingering there for longer than you wanted. Your heart raced as you tried to stay calm, forcing a nervous laugh.

"Jungkook... maybe we can just-"

Before you could finish, his phone buzzed, cutting through the moment like a lifeline. His grip on you loosened slightly, he took out the phone with a sigh, frustration flashing in his eyes.

"Hold on, just one second," he murmured. His fingers lingered on your waist for a moment before he finally pulled away completely and gently moved you aside, standing as he answered the call. His voice shifted, going from soft to firm and businesslike. "Yeah? What is it?"

He paced across the room, his back to you now, as he discussed something about a meeting that needed his attention. You sat there, your heart still pounding from the intensity of his closeness, but now relieved by the brief reprieve.

Jungkook shot you a glance, his expression torn between annoyance at the interruption and reluctance to leave you alone. "I have to take care of something at work," he said, his tone clipped but apologetic. "I’ll be back before dinner. Just stay here, okay? I'll make it quick."

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and watched as he gathered his things.

Jungkook lingered by the door, his hand on the handle as he turned back to face you. His expression softened, but there was something darker underneath- a warning, a reminder of control. He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret while I’m gone, princess,” he said quietly, his voice firm yet gentle, as if coaxing you into compliance. “And I really don’t want us to do anything we’ll both regret.” The words, though calm, carried an unmistakable edge.

Your stomach twisted at the unspoken threat in his tone. You forced yourself to smile, nodding obediently. “Of course. I’ll just stay here, wait for you to come back,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He moved closer again, reaching out to brush your hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a little too long. “Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers gently gripping your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. “I’ll know if you try anything. Don’t forget that.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze, his thumb tracing your lower lip in a way that made your skin crawl despite the tenderness. He was always like this, smothering affection masking something far more dangerous. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment too long before he pulled away.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, a twisted warmth in his tone. “Be good while I’m gone.” With that, he stepped away, finally exiting the room, but not before casting one last look over his shoulder, as if ensuring you understood exactly what he expected.

You heard the door click shut, the sound echoing in your ears like a warning bell. Your mind racing, trying to process everything. He hadn’t locked the door, not this time, but you knew better than to believe you could just walk out without consequence. There would be cameras, perhaps even people watching.

A part of you wanted to rush for the door, but you knew better. You had to be smart, strategic. Trying to escape now would only tighten his grip, making things even worse. If you were going to find a way out, it had to be subtle, planned, and with no room for error.

Taking a shaky breath. For now, you had to play the part.

You stood there for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of the apartment after Jungkook left. The air felt heavy, as though his presence still lingered, even though you were alone now. But his words echoed in your mind: “I’ll know if you try anything.”

You forced yourself to breathe slowly, trying to calm your racing heart. You couldn't act hastily, not now. You glanced toward the door, freedom, but not without consequences. You had no idea what surveillance systems or traps he might have in place. You knew he was possessive enough to ensure you wouldn’t just slip out without him knowing. He always had control, even when he wasn’t physically there.

You looked around the apartment, your mind running through all the possibilities, all the things he could be watching. Cameras? Maybe. Some kind of alert system? You couldn’t rule it out. You’d learned early on that he wasn’t the kind of person to leave anything to chance.

Carefully, you walked toward the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to peek outside. You were several stories up. Jumping wasn’t an option.

Your mind buzzed with ideas, trying to balance hope with fear. What could you do now to buy yourself more time, more trust? You knew you had to be smart, to play along even when it felt suffocating. Maybe this time, when he returned, you could act more compliant, give him a reason to believe you were falling in line. You just needed him to let his guard down a little more.

With a sigh, you moved back to the couch, deciding it was safer to wait. You couldn’t make any rash decisions. Not yet.

As you sat, your mind shifted back to Jungkook’s behavior, his unsettling mix of affection and control. He truly believed he was doing this out of love, protecting you, caring for you. That delusion fueled his every action, and it made him unpredictable. You knew you had to carefully navigate his moods. Push too hard, and he’d snap. Give in too much, and you’d lose yourself completely.

You fiddled with the hem of his oversized hoodie he had dressed you in, the material soft against your skin, and the subtle scent of laundry detergent. You had to stay calm, stay strategic. Maybe you could make dinner for him. A way to show him you were being “good,” just as he expected.

As you made your way to the kitchen, an idea came to mind: Bibimbap. It was simple, comforting, and reminded you of times when things were easier. Back when you had to scrape together whatever ingredients you had just to make a meal, tossing them into a bowl of rice with a bit of protein.

You opened the fridge and scanned for what you needed. There were eggs, some vegetables, and a bit of leftover beef, perfect for what you had in mind. Cooking could help settle your nerves, and more importantly, it could keep Jungkook happy.

Just as you were about to place the fried egg in the bowl for the final touch, you heard the front door open. He was back, sooner than expected. Your heart jumped into your throat, and you quickly composed yourself, forcing a soft smile as you turned toward him.

Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room briefly before landing on you. There was a strange relief in his expression, as if he had been expecting to find you somewhere you shouldn’t be. He smiled, walking over to you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

"You’re still here. Good girl," he murmured, his voice a mix of affection and possession. "I’m glad you didn’t try anything… disappointing."

You swallowed hard, maintaining the calm facade. "Of course not," you whispered, keeping your tone steady. "I was waiting for you."

His gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, like he truly believed this twisted version of love. He sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms, his touch tight yet oddly gentle. "Let’s spend the rest of the evening together, just us," he said quietly, his lips brushing your temple. "I want to enjoy every second with you."

You nodded, leaning into his embrace, knowing that for now, you had no choice but to play along. Each small victory would build toward something bigger, toward an escape.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulled back and grabbed the bowl of food you had prepared from the counter, setting it down next to you. Without a word, he picked up a spoon, his expression calm. He scooped some food from the bowl, and turned toward you with a faint smile.

"You know," he said, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and something darker, "I think you need a little help."

Before you could respond, he brought the spoon closer to your lips, his gaze unwavering. "Open up," he commanded softly, his tone leaving no room for refusal.

Your heart raced, instinctively pulling back. "I can feed myself," you protested, but the tremor in your voice betrayed your fear.

“Not today,” he replied, leaning closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours with unsettling intensity. “You’re going to let me feed you.”

“Look at it this way,” he said softly, his fingers brushing the side of your face. “It’s a way for you to make up for your bad behavior from this morning. All is forgiven now.” His tone was almost gentle, as if offering you a gift wrapped in his twisted logic.

Your breath caught in your throat. You knew what he meant, your resistance earlier, your small acts of defiance. They hadn’t gone unnoticed. Every decision you made, every hesitation, was another test to him, and now, by complying, you were wiping the slate clean. At least in his eyes.

You forced yourself to nod, your throat tight. "I’m glad everything’s okay now," you whispered, trying to match his calm tone, though the words felt hollow.

He smiled again, "That’s my girl," he murmured.

"We’ll be fine as long as you keep behaving." He held the spoon near your lips, the savory scent mixing with the rising anxiety in your chest. You felt trapped, the weight of his control suffocating as the desire to resist clashed violently with the fear of what he might do if you refused.

"Just one bite," he urged, his voice deceptively gentle. "That’s all I ask. You might even like it."

You hesitated, the spoon hovering inches from your mouth. His breath brushed your skin, warm and suffocating, and despite every fiber of your being screaming to resist, you reluctantly parted your lips. He fed you the bite, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction as you chewed.

“Good girl,” he praised softly, his voice laced with twisted affection. “See? Not so bad, is it?”

You couldn’t meet his gaze, focusing instead on the way he savored your submission, each bite you took a victory for him. He continued feeding you, the act a power play more than an act of care. “Good girl,” he murmured again, his praise becoming a sickly sweet reminder of how much he enjoyed your obedience.

You swallowed the last bite, but before you could protest, he was already lifting another spoonful to your lips. "No more," you whispered, shaking your head. But he only smiled, unbothered by your plea.

“You’re not done yet,” he replied, his voice still calm but now carrying a subtle warning. “You need to eat. I won’t let you starve yourself.”

Each bite felt like a slow erosion of your autonomy, a surrender to the web of control he had wrapped around you. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he set the spoon down and wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“There. Good. Now, was that so hard?” he asked, his smile widening, a smug satisfaction radiating from him.

You could barely hold back the bile rising in your throat as he tilted his head, his eyes flashing with something dark and possessive. “Soon, you’ll see things my way.”

__________

The days blurred together in a suffocating routine after that morning. Each day, you played your part, becoming the perfect version of the person Jungkook wanted you to be, feeding into his twisted fantasy of love and control. You adapted, not out of choice, but out of survival, carefully treading the fine line between submission and manipulation.

Jungkook, on the surface, seemed content. Every morning, he’d wake you with soft kisses, his arms tight around you as he whispered promises of love. You’d smile, kiss him back, and play along, even when every touch made your skin crawl. Breakfast was always a quiet ritual, with him feeding you more often than not, his gaze watching your every move, ensuring you didn’t deviate from his expectations.

In the afternoons, he’d insist on spending time together, whether it was watching TV or simply lounging around. His arms were always around you, his touch never far. It was smothering, but you endured it, knowing that resistance would only tighten his grip. You began to flatter him, giving him small, calculated compliments, making him believe that you were starting to see things his way. Each word was carefully crafted, designed to earn his trust, to keep him from suspecting that behind your compliance was a growing determination to escape.

You started doing more for him, small acts of care that fed into his obsession. You made his favorite meals, dressed in clothes he picked out for you, and even initiated moments of affection, all while hiding the fear and anger that simmered beneath the surface. You needed him to believe you were falling in line, that you were happy, even when the chains around you grew tighter every day.

And he did believe it. The more you played into his fantasy, the more he relaxed. He started leaving you alone for short periods, his possessiveness loosening just enough to give you moments of freedom. But even then, you knew he was watching. There were cameras, there had to be. You could feel his presence, even when he wasn’t there.

Yet, despite the facade you maintained, the anger inside you grew. Every time he praised you for being his "good girl," every time he fed you like a child or held you too tight, it fueled the fire burning in your chest. You hated how easily he controlled your life, how he believed you were his to command.

But you also knew that anger wasn’t enough. If you were going to escape, you had to be smart. You needed to play the long game, to lull him into a sense of security. Every smile, every affectionate word, was a brick in the wall you were building between you and his suspicions. Slowly, carefully, you were laying the groundwork for your escape.

As the days passed, Jungkook grew more comfortable with your “submission.” He praised you often, told you how proud he was of how you were “adjusting” to his love. Each time he said it, your heart twisted, but you forced a smile, knowing that it was part of the plan. The more he believed in your compliance, the more likely he was to slip, to give you the opening you needed.

But for now, you remain trapped in the routine, your every move calculated, your words carefully chosen. The slivers of freedom he gave you were small, but they were enough for now. You knew that eventually, the trust you were building would be your key to escape. It had to be.

You sat on the couch, curled up under a soft blanket, your legs stretched out across Jungkook’s lap. He was working, as he often did these days, typing on his laptop with one hand while absentmindedly rubbing your feet and calf with the other. The quiet sound of his fingers on the keyboard and the gentle pressure of his touch were strangely soothing, but the tension in your chest refused to ease.

Your book, Gone Girl, lay open in your lap. It had been months since you’d had time to read for pleasure, back when your life was a whirlwind of school and juggling two jobs. Now, though, things were different. Your days were long, filled with a strange mixture of peace and suffocation, where the boundaries of control and submission were constantly shifting.

Jungkook had been working from home more often lately, his gaze flicking between you and his computer screen. He liked having you near, a constant presence that fed into his need to know where you were, what you were doing, at all times. You had grown accustomed to it, the way he monitored your movements even when his attention seemed elsewhere. But tonight, something was different. Maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was the fact that he'd been in a particularly good mood recently, satisfied with how you were behaving.

You glanced at him over the top of your book, the glow of his laptop reflecting off his features. He looked calm, focused on his work. Now felt like the right time to bring it up. You’d been absent from school for weeks, your professors likely wondering where you had gone. But more importantly, your final exam was approaching. If you missed it, you wouldn’t pass the course you've fought sleepless for.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. It wasn’t that you were afraid of asking, Jungkook rarely reacted harshly to your questions, but the idea of returning to school, even for an exam, meant the possibility of freedom. And you knew how he felt about that.

Still, you had to try.

“Babe,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone light and casual, “I’ve been thinking about school.”

His fingers paused on your leg, just for a second, before continuing their gentle massage. His eyes remained fixed on his screen, though you knew he was listening intently.

“What about school?” he asked, his tone even, though you sensed a hint of curiosity beneath it.

“I’ve been gone for a while now,” you continued carefully. “I still need to take my final exams at the end of the month if I want to graduate.”

There was a brief silence, the sound of his typing slowing to a stop. He finally looked at you, his dark eyes scanning your face as if trying to gauge your intentions.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said quietly, his hand tightening slightly around your calf. “School isn’t something you need to worry about anymore. You’re with me now.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to stay calm. You couldn’t afford to push too hard. “I know, but graduating is important to me. It’s something I worked really hard for, and I just need one more year before I graduate. After that, I’ll be done.”

Jungkook’s expression didn’t change, but his grip on your leg remained firm. He seemed to consider your words, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the request. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing the risk of letting you out of his sight, even for something as seemingly harmless as an exam.

“I don’t like the idea of you going back there,” he said finally, his voice soft but edged with tension. “Too many people. Too many distractions.”

“I’ll only go for the exam,” you promised, your voice gentle but firm. “I won’t stay longer than I need to. Just in and out. You can even drop me off and pick me up, if that makes you feel better.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his thumb idly rubbing small circles on your ankle. You could see the conflict in his eyes, his desire to give you what you wanted clashing with his need to control every aspect of your life.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll think about it,” he said, his voice a little more relaxed. “But I don’t want you getting any ideas. You know how much I care about you.”

“I know,” you whispered, relief washing over you even as a knot of anxiety twisted in your stomach. You had planted the seed. Now you just had to hope it would grow into an opportunity, one that you could use to finally reclaim a piece of your freedom.

__________

Three days had passed since that conversation, and the knot in your stomach had only tightened. The exam was fast approaching, and you could feel the weight of it looming over you, just as much as the constant, watchful presence of Jungkook. He hadn’t brought it up again, and you were too afraid to push the topic further just yet. But the clock was ticking, and you knew that soon, you’d have to.

Jungkook had been busier than usual lately, ever since his father passed away. The responsibilities that came with running the family business had doubled, and you could see the strain in his face, in the way he carried himself. He spent hours in his office, buried in paperwork, his attention consumed by the demands of the company.

You sat on the armchair in the corner of his office, reading the book in your lap, though you hadn’t turned a page in the past thirty minutes. Instead, your eyes kept drifting toward him, watching the focused look on his face as he scribbled notes or typed away at his computer. The tension in the room was palpable, even though neither of you had said a word for the last hour.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair, the fatigue clear in his movements. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples, clearly feeling the pressure of everything on his shoulders. You knew he hated being questioned or distracted when he was like this, but you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Jungkook,” you said softly, careful to keep your tone gentle.

He didn’t look up right away, but you saw the slight tightening of his jaw, a telltale sign that he had heard you. After a moment, he placed his pen down and finally met your gaze.

“What is it sweetheart?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with exhaustion.

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your courage. “I know you’ve been thinking about it… and I appreciate it. But the exam is only a few days away. I really need to know what we’re going to do.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened slightly, but his expression remained controlled. “You don’t need to worry about the exam. You don’t need school anymore. I’m taking care of everything.”

You bit your lip, feeling the familiar frustration bubbling up inside you. “But I’ve worked so hard for this. I need to graduate, Jungkook. I can’t just... quit. You said you’d think about it.”

He let out a long breath, standing up and walking around his desk to where you sat. His eyes softened, but it didn’t comfort you. Instead, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Princess,” he said gently, reaching out to cup your cheek, “I understand that this is important to you. But you don’t need that degree. You have me. I’ll take care of you. You don’t need to go back to that life.”

You pulled away slightly, shaking your head. “That’s not the point. I want to finish this. It’s something I’ve worked for.”

His gaze hardened, just a fraction, but enough for you to notice. “You need to stop thinking about what you want,” he said, his voice firm. “This is what’s best for you. Trust me.”

Your chest tightened as you looked at him, your frustration turning into something sharper, something closer to anger. You had done everything he asked. You had been patient, played the role of the compliant partner, all for this one moment of freedom. And now, he was taking that away too.

“I’ve been patient,” you said, your voice shaking with barely-contained frustration. “I’ve done everything you wanted. But you promised. You said you’d think about it.”

Jungkook’s expression remained unbothered, as though your words had no effect on him. “I did think about it,” he said, his voice cold. “And I’ve decided. You’re not going back to school. You’re staying here, where you belong.” He turned his back to you, walking back to his desk.

That was it. That was the moment everything broke.

Before you even had time to process the fury building inside you, your eyes locked onto the vase on the table next to the armchair. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but your body moved before you could think. In one swift motion, you grabbed the vase, the weight of it grounding you for just a split second before you swung it at him.

The vase hit him on the side of the head with a sickening crack.

Jungkook collapsed to the floor with a groan, his hand flying to his head as he struggled to process what had just happened. Blood seeped through his fingers, and his eyes flickered with shock as he looked up at you.

“Princess…” he rasped, his voice hoarse with confusion and disbelief. “What... what did you-”

You ran.

You bolted for the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you sprinted down the hallway, your mind a whirlwind of panic and adrenaline. The front door to the penthouse was open, a careless mistake on his part, a sliver of luck for you. You didn’t care about anything else anymore. You didn’t care about his control, or even the fear of what he would do if he caught you.

All you wanted was out. Out of this suffocating place, out of this twisted prison he had built around you.

Out of him.

You bolted for the door, heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. The vase clattered to the floor behind you as you sprinted toward the elevator, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You didn’t think, there was no time for thinking. You just knew you had to get out.

The hallway blurred as you ran, adrenaline surging through your veins. The elevator doors were open, another moment of luck in a twisted series of events. You threw yourself inside, slamming your hand against the button to close the doors as fast as possible.

The elevator doors slid shut with a quiet hum, sealing you inside. Your hands trembled as you pressed the button for the lobby, willing the elevator to move faster. You had no idea how long it would take for Jungkook to recover, but you knew it wouldn’t be long before he came after you.

As the elevator descended, your chest tightened, each floor feeling like an eternity. You pressed yourself into the corner of the elevator, your whole body shaking as you tried to catch your breath. The reality of what you’d just done hit you all at once, crashing over you like a wave.

You hit him.

You hit Jungkook.

But you didn’t regret it. You couldn’t regret it. Not after everything he had done, keeping you trapped, controlling every part of your life.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears sting at the edges, but you fought them back. You didn’t have time to break down now. The elevator dinged softly as it reached the lobby, and you wiped your eyes quickly, forcing yourself to focus. The doors slid open, revealing the bright lights of the ground floor.

Freedom.

You stepped out, your legs weak beneath you, but you forced yourself to keep moving. People were walking past you in the lobby, completely unaware of the storm you had just escaped from upstairs.

You had no plan, no phone, no money. Still, all that mattered was that you were out. Away from him.

And you weren’t going back.

You burst through the doors of the lobby and into the night, your legs carrying you without direction, just away. Away from Jungkook, away from the suffocating control, away from the penthouse that had been your prison for far too long. You ran blindly through the city streets, heart racing, breath shallow, your feet slamming against the pavement with each desperate step. The cool night air whipped against your face, but it did little to clear the panic clouding your mind.

You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t ask for help. Who would believe you? He was Jeon fucking Jungkook, one of the richest, one of the most powerful men. If you went to the authorities, they’d likely send you straight back to him. Money bought silence, it bought control, and you knew better than anyone just how tightly he held that control.

You needed to disappear. To vanish completely until he couldn’t find you, until he finally gave up. But how??

The thought of going back, of being caught, terrified you more than anything. You needed help. You needed money. That’s when you remembered the necklace hanging around your neck, the one Jungkook had given you. It was expensive, something rare and exclusive, probably worth a fortune. Maybe you could sell it, use the cash to disappear for a little while.

But first, you needed a place to stay. Somewhere safe, at least for the night. Your parents lived too far away. You couldn’t risk reaching out to them, not yet. The only person you could think of was Bora. Sweet, dependable Bora. She had always been there for you, and maybe, just maybe she’d still help you now.

But could you risk getting her involved? If Jungkook found out she helped you, she could get caught in the crossfire. The thought gnawed at you, but you didn’t have many options. Bora worked at the strip club, usually at this time of night. Maybe you could swing by, ask for some quick cash, and move on before Jungkook even had a chance to realize where you’d gone.

You stopped in your tracks, panting, your lungs burning from the nonstop sprint through the city. You bent over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. “Breathe”, you told yourself. “Just breathe”.

As you straightened up, your eyes caught something pinned to a streetlight nearby. An old, wrinkled poster. Something familiar.

You took a step closer, squinting under the dim streetlight. The faded ink became clearer. It was a missing person report. Your missing person report. Your own face stared back at you, a photo from what felt like a lifetime ago.

Beneath your name, someone had scribbled something in jagged handwriting.

Rest in peace Angel.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Cold realization washed over you. I’m dead. Jungkook made sure of it.

The world tilted for a moment as the weight of what he had done finally hit you. Everyone thought you were gone, your family, your friends, anyone who might’ve come looking for you. They had already mourned you, accepted your death. No one was looking for you anymore. As far as the world was concerned, you didn’t exist.

He had erased you.

You staggered back, the noise of the city fading as you stared at the poster, at the brutal, final words scribbled beneath your name. Jungkook had planned this all along, trapping you in his world, and now, even if you ran, you had no identity to run with.

But you had to run. And you had to survive. You had to find Bora, get enough money to keep moving. The thought of stopping, of letting him catch up to you, was unbearable.

You glanced around, panic rising again, your heart pounding louder than ever. The clock was ticking. You had to go.

You slowed down, heart still racing, trying to steady your breath as you kept moving toward the back of the club. The line stretched on, men jostling for position, but you weren’t going through the front. The bouncers, tall, muscular figures with sunglasses even at night, stood like sentinels at the door, arms crossed, keeping watch over the chaos.

God, you hated this place. The memories here were bitter, nights spent working, enduring the leering stares, the unwanted touches, the crude jokes. But now, this was the only place you could turn to. The only person you had left was inside.

You slipped down the alley, the familiar route you used to take when you worked here. The scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol clung to the air, a sharp contrast to the cool breeze brushing against your flushed skin.

You kept your head down, weaving through the crowd toward the back of the building. There was a secret door in the back, hidden from the public, where the staff would slip in and out during shifts. You didn’t have your key anymore, of course, but you remembered the routine. Girls always came out for smoke breaks here.

Your breath hitched as you reached for the door handle, hoping to slip in quietly, unnoticed. But before you could even touch it, the door swung open.

You stumbled back, heart leaping into your throat.

“Oh my god,” a voice muttered, and your eyes shot up to see one of the dancers, Sana, one of the regulars, blinking at you in surprise. She was dressed in her stage outfit, cigarette in hand, her eyes wide as she took you in.

“What the hell...?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “Wait... is that-is that really you?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of the doorway just enough to slip inside, keeping your face hidden as much as you could.

“Sana, I-I need to see Bora,” you whispered, your voice shaky and desperate. “Is she here tonight?”

Sana stared at you, her expression caught between disbelief and alarm. "Wait, wait, hold on-what's going on? You-you're supposed to be-"

“I know,” you cut her off, your voice urgent. “I can’t explain right now. Just... please. I need to see her.”

Sana hesitated for a moment, clearly confused, but then nodded slowly. “She’s inside, on stage. She should be finishing up soon.”

Relief surged through you, though it was mixed with the familiar dread of being in this place again. “Thank you,” you muttered before slipping past her and into the dimly lit hallway.

The familiar thrum of music filled your ears as you made your way down the narrow corridor, past the lockers and dressing rooms. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, perfume, and alcohol, and you could hear the muffled cheers of the crowd beyond the main stage.

You hovered near the dressing rooms, hiding in the shadows, waiting for Bora’s set to finish. Your heart raced with every second that passed, the fear that Jungkook might somehow track you here gnawing at you. You had no idea how much time you had before he realized you were gone, before he started searching.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally saw Bora walking off the stage, her usual confidence dimmed by exhaustion. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and glanced around, heading toward the dressing room. You stepped out from the shadows, your hands trembling.

"Bora."

Her head whipped around at the sound of your voice, her eyes widening as they landed on you. She froze, her face going pale. "Angel... You're-"

"I'm alive," you whispered, stepping closer. "But I need your help. Please, Bora, I don't have much time."

Her eyes darted around the room, panic flashing across her face as she processed the situation. She grabbed your arm, pulling you into the dressing room and slamming the door behind you. "What the hell happened to you? We all thought... we thought you were gone! A body, they found a body-everyone thinks you're dead!"

"I know," you whispered, your voice cracking. "It was Jungkook. He made it look like I was dead. I-I just escaped from him."

Bora's expression shifted from shock to anger. "That bastard. I knew something was off with him. But why come here? If he knows you're here, he's going to come after you. This place isn't safe!"

"I know, but I had nowhere else to go. I need money. I need to disappear, Bora."

She stared at you for a long moment, clearly torn between fear and the instinct to help you. Finally, she nodded, grabbing her purse from the counter. "Okay, okay... I’ll give you whatever cash I have on me. But you can’t stay here. He’ll find you."

You exhaled a shaky breath as she handed you a wad of bills. "Thank you. I won't stay long. I just need a head start."

Bora's eyes softened with concern as she stuffed more money into your hand. "You need to get far away from here. As far as you can."

You nodded, your hands trembling as you stuffed the cash into your pockets. "I will."

But even as you said the words, the lingering fear gnawed at you. How far could you really run from someone like Jungkook?

Bora’s eyes softened as she looked at you, the weight of everything hanging in the air between you. Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you in a way that made your chest tighten with emotion.

“Please be safe,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the muffled music from the club.

You held on to her for a moment longer, your own arms squeezing her back. It had been so long since anyone had hugged you like that—since anyone had shown you kindness without control attached to it. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, knowing you didn’t have time to break down. Not here. Not now.

“I’ll try,” you whispered back, your voice shaky. “Thank you, Bora. For everything.”

She pulled back, her hands lingering on your arms for a second before she let you go. “Don’t come back here. Don’t let him find you,” she said, her voice fierce but laced with worry. “Disappear. For good.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I will.”

Before you could make your way toward the door, Bora grabbed your arm again, her eyes scanning you up and down. “Wait,” she said firmly. “You can’t go out there like this. He’ll recognize you immediately. Everyone will.”

You looked down at yourself, your clothes, they were from a life Jungkook had tailored for you, a life that you needed to shed to blend in, to disappear.

Bora was already moving, digging through her locker and pulling out a simple, dark outfit, one she usually wears going to work and back. “Here,” she said, shoving the clothes into your arms. “Change into this. It'll make it harder for anyone to spot you. Hurry. We don’t have much time.”

Without another word, you quickly pulled off your old clothes and slipped into Bora’s outfit. A dark pair of jeans, with a loose black hoodie and a warm black warm coat. It smelled a lot of perfume. You tied your hair back, glancing at yourself in the mirror.

Bora handed you a cap, adding the finishing touch. “There.” she said, a small, sad smile on her lips.

You gave her a grateful look, feeling your throat tighten. “Thank you,” you whispered again.

Bora pulled you in for another quick, tight hug. “Get out of here, okay? And don’t come back,” she repeated, her voice low and urgent. “He won’t stop if he finds out.”

You nodded, heart pounding as you finished dressing. “I won’t. I promise.”

With that, you headed toward the back exit.

You had to keep moving. You couldn’t afford to stop.

You pulled the hoodie tightly over your cap, tucking your hair beneath the fabric as you prepared to leave. Your mind raced with one thought: you needed to find a motel. Just for the night, somewhere to lie low until you could sell the necklace.

Pushing open the back door, you stepped into the cool night air, but before you could take another step, a hand grabbed your arm roughly, slamming you against the brick wall of the alley.

"Where are you off to?" a low voice growled, eyes narrowing at you.

"You're not Bora."

You froze, the shock rendering you speechless. The world blurred around you as you stared at the man who had pinned you. Panic surged through your veins until recognition hit you like a punch to the gut.

Jeong Jaehyun.

One of Jungkook’s closest friends.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you kept your head down, desperately trying to hide your face. "No... I’m not," you mumbled quickly, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m her friend. I wasn’t feeling well, so I was sent home."

Jaehyun’s eyes raked over you, suspicion flickering across his features. "You look familiar," he said slowly, his grip tightening for a brief moment.

Your stomach lurched, but you forced a tight smile. "Yeah, well... I work here. Probably seen me around. I really have to go now," you said, your voice barely masking the fear.

You slipped away from his grip, pulling the hoodie tighter around your face, praying he wouldn’t connect the dots.

"Wait-"

Before he could stop you, another voice called out from behind him.

"Jaehyun! Where the hell are you, man? What are you doing back here?"

A distraction.

Without wasting another second, you pushed the door open wide and bolted, your feet slamming against the pavement as you ran down the alley. You could hear Jaehyun calling out behind you, but you didn’t look back.

You couldn’t catch a break. Every time you thought you were one step ahead, something or someone dragged you right back into it.

__________

Jungkook blinked, his vision swimming as the sharp pain in his head brought him back to the present. His fingers grazed the spot where the vase had hit him, and the warm trickle of blood running down his temple stung, but it wasn’t the pain that consumed him, it was the realization.

She hit me.

His princess, the one he had carefully protected, sheltered, loved, had just hit him and ran. The one he thought had finally understood their connection, their bond. She had betrayed him, and now she was gone.

He staggered to his feet, his breath coming in sharp bursts. The penthouse felt unnervingly quiet, the door slightly ajar, the echoes of her departure lingering like a slap to his face.

She ran.

The thought sent a fresh wave of fury through him. After everything he’d done for her, how he had protected her, made her feel safe, cared for her in ways no one else ever could, and she had the nerve to run?

His fist slammed against the wall, the plaster cracking under the pressure. His vision blurred, clouded by the dark haze of his anger. She thought she could escape him? That she could leave him after everything?

No.

She was his. She belonged to him, and she would always belong to him.

Jungkook stood still for a moment, letting the anger settle into something colder, more focused. He wiped the blood from his knuckles, smearing it across his fingertips before casually brushing it away. His mind was already racing through the next steps.

No matter how much he loved her, no matter how well he treated her, the thought of escape might flicker in her mind. But he had prepared for that. He wasn’t that naive. He wasn’t stupid.

In fact, he had been two steps ahead of her the entire time.

Jungkook reached into his desk drawer, his fingers brushing past papers and folders until he found what he was looking for- a small black device, barely larger than a key fob. He turned it over in his hand, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he thumbed the button on its side.

The tracker.

Weeks ago, when he’d first brought her into his world, he had planted a small tracking chip under her skin. A simple procedure. Harmless, unnoticed. She had no idea, of course. It was for her safety, for their safety. He couldn’t risk losing her.

The tiny chip, embedded beneath her skin in a place she would never think to check, allowed him to always know where she was. It was a precaution, one he had hoped he’d never need to use. But now? Now it was time to activate it.

Jungkook pressed the button on the device, watching as the screen lit up, a small blinking dot appearing on the map. He watched the blinking dot on the tracker screen, his expression calm, almost serene. She was running, heart pounding, mind probably racing with thoughts of escape. She thought she had outsmarted him, thought she had finally broken free.

Let her think that.

His fingers lightly traced over the small red dot on the screen, his smile widening. He could go after her now, catch her within the hour. But where was the fun in that? Where was the lesson? No, she needed to feel the weight of her decision, the consequences of trying to leave him. She needed to believe that freedom was within her reach, only to have it yanked away when he decided the time was right.

This wasn’t just about finding her. It was about showing her that she had never truly escaped. That she could run, hide, try to slip away into the cracks of the city, but he would always know where she was. Because she was his, and nothing could change that.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing on the blinking dot that represented her. He’d give her time, just enough to think she’d won. Let her scramble, desperate and afraid. Let her believe that she was outsmarting him, that she had carved out a sliver of freedom.

But in reality, she was playing a game where the rules had already been set, and he held all the pieces.

He could wait. After all, the longer she thought she was free, the sweeter it would be when he finally pulled her back into his world.

Let her run. Let her think she had won.

But when he decided it was time—he’d make sure she knew that freedom had never really been hers to take.

Jungkook wiped the blood from his temple, his head still throbbing from the blow, but his lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.

“Run all you want, Princess,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and venomous, his fingers tightening around the edge of the desk as he steadied himself.

“I’ll always find you.”

#bts fanfic #white pearl #jungkook yandere fanfiction #yandere bts #bts yandere #bts fanfction #bts jungkook #bts jungkook fanfic #bts fanfiction #silver pearl #pearl series

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unholybacon355 · 3 months ago

Text

What's under my christmas tree?

Shin Ryujin x Male Reader

Word Count: 6 K

TW: Incest.

A/N:

I have to say some important things.

First, they are deeply wrong and damaged. Please notice that.

Second. I was supposed to release this on christmas eve but things happened so I'm posting it now.

And third, this is the continuation of Day 1 of my Kinktober stories. You don't need to read that after this, since is a short story gives zero context to this one. But if you want to read it you can find it on my profile.

And last one. This was supposed to be a one shot, but I thing would be better if I split it in two. So second chapter is coming soon.

CHAPTER ONE

Another family dinner, as the thousand you have had since you’re alive, nothing special about this one that makes it memorable. Just a complete normal family dinner with your dad, your mom, and your older sister. Everything normal, nothing to care about, not at all. Just the usual things like Ryujin making fun of you for being a loser and not getting bitches. She is loving messing with you while she’s rubbing her foot against your crotch under the table. Just a totally normal Christmas dinner with your family.

You’re hard and nervous at the same time. You want to take off your pants and let your sister perform a proper footjob, but for obvious reasons you can’t do that in the middle of the family dinner. She knows that and you can see in her deep brown eyes that that is exactly the reason why she’s messing with you right now.

You can remember exactly how this insane side of your relationship started. Was years ago during one of your vacation that she found you smelling an used pair of panties. You thought it was from one of her friends, Chaeryeong, who was with your family on that vacation. But ended up being one of Ryujin’s used panties instead. That crazy night she maybe had drank more than she should have and one thing led to another so you ended up putting a show from your sister and masturbating in front of her, smelling her pussy aroma from her dirty underwear while she was making fun and encouraging you at the same time. From there things were periodically escalating within days, and by the end of the vacations you two eventually ended fucking.

You seriously think that you should feel bad about the fact that at least once per month you cum inside your sister’s pussy, but seriously she’s so annoying on a daily basis that you believe that is a great compensation.

You aren't getting bitches, as Ryujin always says, and she takes advantage of that by always messing with you. Always rubbing her body against you in the most subtle ways, like for example how she did during the family photo this same evening.

You were sitting on the couch accommodating for the said photo and Ryujin just sat on your lap. The problem was that she was rubbing her ass on your crotch, causing you a massive erection. The almost imperceptibly slow and circular movement of her ass made your shaft stab her, and she was smiling all the time. No one could notice it on the photo but you were holding it to not bend her over the carpet and fuck your sister in front of the christmas tree.

And now you have her foot rubbing your erection while she's making jokes and asking you mom to pass her the salad. Your sister is a truly evil being, but you have to give credit to her for maintaining this charade. She should venture into acting since is too good at putting on that poker face while doing nasty things.

You know how fast her expressions can change since one of her favorite activities is ruining your orgasm by looking right into your eyes with her most dirty and slutty face, and in the right moment changing to a disgusting or angry face. Your sister could easily be an actress and win an Oscar.

Is incredible how Ryuijin can manage to look like a good daughter while bringing you to the very verge of an orgasm. Her foot works on your crotch pressing and rubbing your erection with expert and precise movements, as if she had done this countless times. And maybe she did it, since even you know the rumors about her that people tell in her campus. And it is her expert foot that finally makes you cum, but is a disappointing orgasm. Totally ruined by the fact that you can make any noise and have to maintain your composure since you're in front of your parents, still at the family dinner. Ryujin's foot immediately leaves your erection in peace when she notices that you have already cummed.

Somehow you managed to maintain composure and not moan right there. Only your mom noticed something was wrong and asked you if everything was ok. You were quick to tell her that you have eaten so much because everything was delicious, and that's all. That was just you having a full stomach and nothing more. Deflecting all doubts into a burst of giggles from your sister. At least she helps you with this one.

After dinner came the exchange of gifts, which you had to go through with your boxer soaked in your cum. It feels dirty and makes you worry that your parents might smell it, or your pants get stained and they could notice it. Luckily for you nothing happens and everything goes right, you even get a pretty gift from Ryujin. Which considering what she just did to you at the dinner was giving you mixed feelings.

After all, family night ended up being beautiful, as a christmas night should be for everyone. All the fun and family games ended sooner than you wish because your parents had to leave to attend a friend’s party and obviously you weren't going to be hanging out with your sister in the living room. So one second after your mom let you know that they aren’t coming back till tomorrow lunch and leave the house, you're running to your room without giving any chance to Ryujin to mess with you again.

Hours have passed but you are still awake, being occasionally distracted from your studies by the snow falling at the other side of the window, and for your sister’s steps coming down and up on the stairs. What she’s doing is a mystery for you and honestly you don’t wanna know, maybe she’s sneaking one of her friends in the house to get her guts rearranged. In which case you don’t wanna know, or maybe you want and you will use the sounds of Ryujin getting railed to jack off properly. Since she ruined your orgasm at dinner, that sounds fair. You’re now curious but to your surprise her steps stop in front of your door.

“Are you still up, loser?” Ryujin asks after carefully opening your door and sticking just her head in the room. For some reason she’s wearing makeup and a christmas hat.

“Get out, I'm studying. I have an exam next week.” You make her a gesture with your hand to leave the room but instead she blatantly steps inside. Know you really don't know what is happening because Ryujin is dressed like some kind of Santa Claus. The all red costume could be considered sexy in some way because she’s wearing a miniskirt that barely covers more than her ass, thigh highs and a crop top jacket leaving her stomach exposed. All of that topped by a cape, that is actually what is preventing her ass to be seen, and said hat. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh come on! Stop being a loser. Is christmas.” She’s putting on a show here because is pouting and stepping on the floor as if she were some kind of spoiled child. Which in part she is. “Don’t you wanna watch a movie with your sister and have a nice night? I already settled everything on the first floor.”

“Why are you suddenly being so nice?” You have the right to be suspicious since clearly your sister is plotting something here.

“Come on Loser, is christmas. I don’t wanna waste my night sleeping, not tonight. Besides you study a lot, you're practically the first in your class. You deserve a rest too.” Well, at least she was right on that. “I already prepared hot chocolate and cookies. But if you don’t want it, all it's gonna be for me.” And recovering her bratty attitude, more or less her true nature, Ryujin sticks out her tongue and leaves your room. Obviously she didn’t close the door.

When you were about to close the door something made you change your mind and instead you shouted to the first floor. “Wait for me, I’m coming down in a minute.” Maybe she’s right and you deserved a rest after hardly studying the entire year.

Minutes later you're amazed by what Ryujin prepared for your little movie night. She has moved things in the living room, making a big space in the middle. There on the floor she placed blankets and some pillows piled against the big couch, making a bed for you two. There is also a center tabled with what seems to be a thermos with hot chocolate and some christmas cookies, two mugs of that hot chocolate have been already served and are steaming there. All of this is being illuminated by the light of the christmas tree and the big freaking 85 inches tv your dad insisted your family needed. This scene could be romantic if not were because you two are siblings.

"Why are you suddenly doing this?" This seems like too much coming from your sister. “What are you plotting?”

“Can you not be a prick for a moment?” Ryujin seems to be a little offended by your doubts, or maybe she’s acting up again. With her you never know. “Already said it. Just wanna have a nice christmas.”

“Ok, ok. Maybe the Christmas spirit possessed you or something. Can I pick the movie or have you already prepared that too?” You ask sitting in the blankets.

“No, you can’t.” Ryujin sits beside you and covers you two with one blanket. She puts a mug of hot chocolate in your hand and press play. Your sister had selected a romantic comedy. One of those movies that always happens in New York where a young couple inevitably falls in love, but at least it was a Christmas movie so that’s something.

The night was so relaxing and for the first time in months you were just there having a good time. The movie ended up being quite good and you were able to enjoy it, you two were having fun after all. You didn’t even notice how or when Ryujin hugged you, this time without trying to inappropriately touch you, or how she was feeding you with pieces of cookies by putting them directly in your mouth. So for almost two hours you and your sister were laying there enjoying the movie and having a lovely night. The fact that at times this seemed more like a date than two siblings watching a movie together flew over your head, you were completely blinded by enjoying the warmth of your sister hugging you instead of fighting with her.

By the time the movie credits appear on screen Ryujin had her head resting on your shoulder and you were petting her. This was maybe the first time you were like this in years; with no fights, no jokes, no sex, just both of you enjoying a lovely moment. But the spell broke once the movie came to at it inevitable end. That trance that blinded your eyes during the movie wasn’t present now and for the first time you were aware of Ryujin’s body pressing against yours in a tight hug.

“Was a good movie after all, but it is late now.” You broke the reigning silence in the room, and despiste your word you weren't sure if you wanna stop hugging your sister.

“Did you like it?” She asks with her head still on your shoulder. “Never thought my little loser was into that kind of movie.”

“I’m not into it, but this movie was good. And…” Suddenly the realization that she called you “My” hit you. “Why did you call me like that? I’m not yours. Why do you always call me loser?” Your arms are no longer surrounding her body.

“You have to ruin everything, right?” Ryujin pushed you and stood up. The blanket that was covering you fell to a side, the cold hit your bodies now since each other warm was missing. “You’re my brother and I’m the only one that calls you Loser. Can’t I show some love for you now?” This sudden change in her mood surprised you.

“Ok, just calm down.” You're standing too now. “Maybe I’m suspicious since you decided to give me a footjob in the dinner. Did you forget that?”

“You’re acting as if you didn’t enjoyed it.” Well she was right, once again. “You're always so happy to cum on me and then act like if I were using you or something.” To your surprise she pushed you. That caught you off guard causing you to fall into the couch.

“What’s wrong with you?” You quickly stand again and grab her hands when Ryujin tries to push you again. Despite being younger you were visibly taller and heavier than your sister so it wasn't too much difficult for you. “Seriously, what is happening with you?” Ryujin tried to escape from your grasp but you didn’t let her go anywhere. “The footjob, the present, the movie, and now this. Are you crazy or something?”

“Let me…” She finally can free herself, or maybe you let her go because you just noticed how tears were forming in her eyes. “ I’m just tired and really wanted to have a nice moment with someone that at least loved me in the past.” She was holding tears.

“Ryu…” You can control yourself and you surround her with your arms in a tight hug. “I still love you. You’re my sister. Yes, you’re annoying most of the time, but I still do love you.”

“Then why do you have to treat me like your sex toy?” She was sobbing now. “ Why can't you be gentle? Why at least you can’t be gentle with me?”

“Ryu, what’s happening.” You really don’t understand what’s happening here, what is this all about. “I don’t know. Maybe because you bully me when we fuck? But I like it, and… And… Maybe I don’t wanna admit that I enjoy fucking my sister.” This is really the first time you say that because it is truly the first time you two get remotely close to talk about this.

Ryujin tries to push you away but your hug is thigh. “Lier, you’re just like the others. You want me because you can fuck me everytime you want.”

“What? Nooo Ryu, no.” Seriously, this is going to a weird place. “Are the rumors true?”

“Yes, they are. I’m campus's easiest slut to fuck as everyone knows, even you had hear that.” She sobs loudly” I’m so tired of people faking that they are close to me because they wanna fuck me. I’m so tired of people trying to get me drunk because in that way is more easy to fuck me.” Your sister was losing the battle against tears because some had dropped over her cheeks. “I’m a person too. I’m capable of more things than getting my holes stuffed and moaning. I just can’t stop, I can’t feel ok if I'm not drunk or messing with you.”

“Ryu stop!” Maybe you said that a little louder than you should have. “What are you talking about?” Now you hold her face with one hand and dry her tears with the other. “You’re more than that to me. Remember, you're my sister. Don’t you remember who pulled me out of the lake that time I almost drowned when we were kids? Did you forget that time when I broke auntie’s Joohyun porcelain and you said that it was your fault so that they wouldn't scold me?” More tears came from your sister’s eyes when she heard your words. “Have you never noticed why I’m always studying so much? Is because of you. When I started college I wanted to have the same good grades as you because you're so smart. You don’t even need to study. Even now that you're drunk almost every weekend you still have good grades. How can you not see that I do care for you?”

“Lier…” Ryujin wasn’t fighting anymore. She was just there crying in silence, grabbing you tightly by your jacket.

“Ryu, please. I really enjoy our times together… I. “ This is something you don’t wanna admit, not even in your mind, but maybe this is the only moment you could do it. “You wanna know why I’m not getting laid? Isn’t because I’m a nerd or something, in fact some girls have asked me to go on dates with them but I can’t. They aren’t annoying like you, they aren’t as smart as you… I can’t go with them.” Yeah. Your relationship with your sister was really fucked up, and for the things you were saying this was a point from no return.

“You…” Her hands were shaking. “ You really mean it?” Even with the poor light you could see a bright in her eyes when she asked that, and wasn’t the bright of her tears.

“Yes, and you can call me your loser if you want.” Now Ryujin is the one who hugged you, hiding her head in your chest but never stop crying. “But please stop crying. We still can have a good night. We can watch another movie or somet…” You weren't able to finish what you were to say because Ryujin grabbed your face and kissed you.

Was a shy kiss, something different to everything you had ever had with her. Normally your kisses are dirty, furtive, charged with sexual tension and short. This was different, more needy for something that you can’t describe at the moment, but you were kissing her too. Her tears were wetting your face while your lips were dancing together. One of her hands was still holding tightly the side of your jacket.

After what you said, after what you admitted, this feels so different. Suddenly you're hungry for your sister, you want more from her but you remember what she said and don’t wanna break this moment. You seriously love her for more than her pussy, after all she’s your big sister, but now this kiss is doing things to you.

You don’t need to worry anymore for whatever you should do because it is Ryujin who hugs you by your neck and makes her body closer to yours. Since the blanket isn’t covering you anymore, the temperature on your bodies has started to drop, but this kiss is bringing up the thermometer. The kiss is becoming needy and her hands are playing in your neck.

You grab her by the waist , a shiver ran through her body when your hands meet her skin making her tremble for a moment. Ryujin broke the kiss panting for air. She’s not crying anymore, instead there is this new light in her eyes. Something has changed on her. You try to say something but she muted you with a quick kiss on your lips and start lifting your jacked. You help her to take off the garment and your shirt goes along with it. The cold of the winter didn’t bother you because Ryujin's hands are over your chest, you feel a strange warm coming from where she touch you and spreading across your entire body.

“Ryu…” But she muted you again with a kiss before taking a step back. Without taking her eyes from yours Ryujin opens her jacket, leaving her cape on, and lets it fall over the blanket on the floor. She’s not wearing lingerie or something fancy as someone would think, instead she’s wearing a normal bra like she would wear on a normal day. In some way you prefer it like this, but at least said garment is red, matching the thematic of her outfit.

She attempts to take off her thigh highs but you stop her. “No… leave the stockings… Please.” She says nothing but just takes off her miniskirt instead. Ok, she wasn’t wearing lingerie but her underwear matches, even when they were simple pieces they were matching. You found that a lovely gesture because you understand that you weren't meant to see that since she wanted to have just a nice moment with you instead of hooking up. So the makeup and all the prep was just for her to feel better and pretty.

Your sister looks beautiful standing on the blankets, wearing only her underwear and cape. To you, the light from the television and the twinkling lights from the tree don't do justice to her flawless skin. You wish this had been a moonlight night so she could be bathed for the silver light, but instead the snow is falling and pilling outside.

You both are nervous to make the first move, as if you were a couple having their first time instead of a pair of siblings that had known each other since forever. But it is Ryujin that finally reaches you first. She hugs you and soon her hands are playing with your neck again. You can help but find her lips and share a kiss, more passionate this time. Your hands wander across her skin, caressing her waist and tummy.

Despiste Ryujin exercising regularly, her body is not that toned. It's just on the verge between being fluffy and muscular, and you find that so attractive. You can see her biceps contract when she’s carrying something heavy, or punching you, but also can see her thighs jiggle when she walks around. Seeing your sister half naked like this is like a heavenly vision to you.

By this point you have been fucking around for almost two years, but you never have seen her completely naked. Well maybe that time when you ate her pussy from behind when she was about to take a shower. But that was just for a brief moment, nothing like this where she's yours to watch and touch, even when she isn’t completely naked. Your encounters are always fast, subtitles, hiding and trying not to make a noise so your parents can´t fin their children fucking. But here and now both of you know that you can give free rein to your darkest desires.

Ryujin again is the first to move and reach your waistband making you pant fall to your ankles. Your boxer does a miserable job at hiding the tent that formed where is your dick. But how not to be hard when you’re doing this with your beloved sister? It’s impossible not to.

“My little loser is already so excited.” Of course she has to make fun of you in a moment like this, can’t be in another way. “Let noona take care of you tonight.” She whispered that into your ear with her raspy deep voice, and made a shiver run through your spine. Or maybe it is because Ryujin is stroking your erection, and even when is covered with your boxer she still can feel your bulge throbbing in her hand when it is being inflated with blood.

You moan and kiss her again. Maybe the loudest moan you had ever allowed her to cause on you, but is quickly muted by the kiss. Your tongue invades her mouth and she accepts it, but she’s still the one that’s guiding the kiss. After all, your sister is the one with more experience here. You only have kissed a couple of girls before rejecting them, so your sister’s are the lips you have tasted the most.

She takes off your boxer too and you kick it away with the rest of your clothes. Now you're totally naked and in her hands to do whatever she wants. The imbalance of power is evident here but you don’t care, after all Ryujin said that she will take care of you and you believe in her. So the gentle push she gave you on your chest didn't take you off guard this time, but still made you fall into the couch.

“Shhhh.” She muted you by putting a finger over your lips when you opened your mouth to say something, and instead of letting you know what she was gonna do, Ryujin just knelt down between your legs. You knew what was coming by the way she was staring at your shaft with those feline eyes, as if a lion were stalking their prey. Ryujin wrapped her fingers around your erection once again and gave you gentle strokes, immediately a drop of precum forms on your tip.

You feel her tongue on your head collecting your precum, and her warm breath on your shaft. The view you have is amazing and your sister stares back at your eyes, looking to your soul, when she starts engulfing your tip and slowly but never stopping she swallows your meat till her lips touch her hand. A big portion of your erected shaft is in your sister’s mouth, and you feel so comfortable being surrounded by her warmth that you don't even bother on think that this is wrong.

And then, Ryujin starts sucking your dick, but again something feels different. This is not fast, she’s taking her time to give you an actual blowjob and not just some quick blows. She strokes you at a slow pace while her head is going up and dong on your dick, her tongue also is playing around your meat maximizing the pleasure you're receiving. As she said, your sister is taking care of you.

“Relax, loser.” Her voice is so calm, and despiste calling you names you know this time she isn’t making fun of you. All you can do is pet her head and caress her hair while she continues sucking your shaft. The feeling is so amazing, like no other head she has ever given you. Your dick feels so welcome inside her warm mouth.

Your sister doesn't go really deep, just swallowing half of your dick, but this still is so pleasant. Her tongue dances around your shaft in ways that you even knew were possible. That makes your breath heavy and by the look on her eyes she’s proud of that, she likes what she’s making you feel. But she still gives you more and the blowjob becomes messier and sloppy. Ryujin is now coating your shaft with her saliva.

When Ryujing takes your shaft out of her mouth it is so covered in her saliva that some drops fall into your balls. “Come here.” She makes space for you in the blankets beside her, and you let yourself slide from the couch to the floor. Your sister loses no time and sits on your lap, pressing her clothed core into your wet shaft.

She finds your lips again, and despite feeling your taste on her mouth you don’t wanna be kissing someone else. Your hands find her ass and knead her plump buttocks. A needy moan is released right into your mouth at the time your sister starts riding you, and her hands are cupping your face. The way she moves over you drives you crazy and makes her underwear wet, you can feel it even with your shaft coated in her saliva, so her pussy must be completely soaked by her own juices.

“Just let me…” Ryujin raised her body a little to slide her panties to the side, releasing her pussy from the embrace of the fabric. Then she aligns her glistening folds over your tip and descends slowly, taking your dick at a tortuous pace. “You feel soooo stretching me out.” Her voice is so low when she talks again, but you still can hear traces of her raspy tone on it. “You’re filling me so well, Loser.” She don’t move, instead Ryujin just kiss your face and plays with your hair. Right now she’s so far from being the bully and annoying sister that she has been this past years.

When Ryujin moves her hips again, you feel how her walls tighten around your throbbing shaft. That feels delicious, to say it in one way. Her warm wetness is surrounding your hard meat, and her lips are glued to yours in a passionate shared kiss. She rides you slowly, enjoying every movement and releasing waves of pleasure through your bodies.

Once again, as you have been so many times, you're so buried inside your sister’s cunt. But despite all the times you have done this, this time feels more pleasant. Like if you had unblocked a new level of passion between you two. Something that wasn't supposed to be archived by a pair of siblings. A bonding really forbidden.

You need more of her body, so your hands reach for the back of her bra, but you struggle to get it open. You haven’t done it enough times to memorize the process yet. “Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” The words are followed by a small giggle. “Another day I'll teach you to open it with just one hand.” Ryujin bites your lower lip and you get nervous causing your hands to slip from her bra. “Try it again.” Isn’t a order, is most like a petition. “Take off noona’s bra. I want my tiddies sucked.” You finally get the strength and concentration to get the damn clasp of her bra open. She laughs amused and throw her bra way, finally releasing her breasts.

Her tiddies aren’t big, but are big enough to fill your hands. Her nipples feel so stuffed and you caressing them makes them harder. But regardless of the fact that this feels amazing, this isn’t what your sister said she wants. She was clear on her petition, she wants her tiddies sucked and you’re no one to refuse it.

As soon as your mouth meets her right tit you feel how Ryujin’s arch her back. By pure instinct your tongue is playing with her hard nipple, and by the moans she’s releasing you think you’re doing good. Your other hand is on her left breast, playing with it as well. Ryujin practically huge your head holding you in place, so you can’t stop sucking her tits, and you do as you were told. From time to time you change what of her tiddies is on your mouth and what is being caressed by your hand, but you never stop sucking and your sister never stops riding you.

Her movements are now faster and messier. You feel her wetness around you and how her walls embrace your throbbing shaft. The way she makes you feels is so amazing, never ever before fucking your sister has been so pleasant. Apparently she’s having a good time too, because her moans never stop. In fact, they are just becoming louder as she rides you and you play with her tits.

“You're making noona feel so good.” You didn’t need a confirmation because you already could feel it, but her words are well received. The way she’s moaning, the way you make your sister moan and shiver in pleasure make you feel proud. Despite not being experienced you still can make Ryujin have a good time, and not one of those furtive hook ups you have been having.

“God, those batches don’t know what they’re missing.” Ryujin manages to say between her moans and whimpers. “My little brother's cock feels so good inside me.” Her dirty but affirmative words toward you make your dick throb inside her.

You redoubles your attacks over her tiddies, sucking and kissing. Rolling her nipples between your fingers and covering them in saliva with your mouth.

“You want noona to cum over you? To mark you?” You can’t respond because your mouth is busy sucking her left tiddie, but you can suck harder to let her know you want her to reach her orgasm over you, in your arms. Apparently the massage is well received because she changes the pace of her hips.

Now your sister’s movements are slower but conscious, she’s never breaking the pace. Also she’s taking you as deep as she can every time your hips meet, making your shaft completely disappear inside her.

Despite being a cold Christmas night, with snow falling and all, your bodies are warming each other to the point you feel no cold. Plus this is so pleasant that nobody could focus on feeling cold when you have your beautiful sister riding your cock.

“This feel good? Noona is taking good care of you?” She kisses your forehead in a gesture that's way too romantic for the situation, but honestly you don't care anymore. What's the point on denying that you aren't just fucking but you're making love with your sister? There is no worse blind than the one who doesn't want to see, they say. And maybe it is time to open your eyes and accept those feelings. No matter how twisted they are.

Maybe Ryujin needs someone that actually loves and takes care of her too, instead of just wanting to stuff her holes. And maybe you can be that person, or at least you can be there for her till she finds someone. But honestly, who can be better for her than you?

“My little loser is making noona feel so good.” The control she has over her voice even when is so close to orgasm is amazing. You feel how messy and fast her movements are, but nothing of that can be spotted on her voice. She sounds calm, with her deep raspy voice doing things to you. Making you throb inside of her as if you have a second heart down there.

Finally the wetness of her core drench your balls letting you know she reached the precious climax. But not just that, because you can hear how your sister is moaning right into your ear. Ryujin is still riding you, slowly decreasing her pace till she’s sitting in your lap, with your shaft buried inside her.

She’s practically panting because she did almost all the effort, but hair isn’t what she needs now. All your sister can think is on finding your lips and sharing one of those passionate kisses with you. Ryujin is holding your face, not forcing you but not wanting you to go. She doesn't need hair because she can have that anytime, all she needs now is the only person that doesn't see her as a slut.

Time gets blurry when you are passionately kissing your sister like that. Hungry but also slowly, in a way you have never felt before. No girl’s lips made you feel like this before, is a new hunger that you just found and don’t know if it is right that you are satisfying it. This gluttony may be a capital sin.

“That was good.” Ryujin said before kissing your forehead again and playing with your hair. “Best orgasm I’ve had in a long time.” Your sister hugs you seeking for your body heat on this cold winter night. You are just there, laying on the floor with your sister hiding from the world under her christmas cape and between your arms.

“What about me having an orgasm too?”

“Don’t know if you deserve one.” Her head is resting on your shoulder. “It's your punishment for making me cry.”

“I thought I made you cry with pleasure.” You joke while lovely petting her black hair, as if your balls were not coated on sex fluids for the second time that night. All your sister’s fault.

“Don’t be that bold, Loser. You are still not that capable. But…” She pauses to ponder whether she should say the following or not. “Maybe noona can give you another lesson. Another Christmas gift.” She said before kissing your jaw and asking with a whisper right into your ear. “Wanna be a big boy and fuck noona in the ass?”

#itzy x reader #itzy smut #ryujin smut #ryujin #shin ryujin #gg smut #kpop smut #itzy #fanfic

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pboogerswbb · 2 months ago

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SO IT GOES - chapter 10

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content (smut) Wordcount: 7.3K A/C: here we go you freaks (happy game day)

Before London

“Whaddup bro?”

“Hi- uh, why are you talking like that?” I ask, holding up the phone to see the familiar and comforting face of my brother, Kiran.

“Whassup fam,” he grins in a horrible American accent, smirking smugly at his own joke. “I’m American now,” he laughs, forcing me to roll my eyes - nothing new.

“Quit. Please,” I groan, rubbing the bridge of my nose. A habit I had picked up from Paige, who did it every time she was getting fed up.

“C’mon man, you’re no fun,” Kiran chuckles. “I’m trying to practice.”

“Practice for what?” I ask, confused. Kiran’s wide smile, almost identical to mine, is growing even bigger, revealing a row of straight white teeth.

“For when I’m flying over.”

I gasp, trying to look for any hint of a cruel joke or a prank on my brother’s face. He’s dead serious.

“You got off work??” I ask in shock. Kiran nods, smiling excitedly, making me squeal.

“Promise me you’re not joking!” I laugh, nearly jumping up and down with excitement. I had missed my baby brother so badly. I felt obnoxious with the way I was constantly speaking about him to everyone, to Trey, to Paige, to my other co-workers. But now, in only a matter of weeks, I would be able to see him face to face. Finally.

“I promise Izzie,” Kiran smiles. The only people in the world that called me Izzie were childhood friends, my family, and I suppose Paige.

I hadn’t told my brother about Paige, or what was going on between us. Whenever he brought the particular blonde up I just swiftly changed the topic of conversation, always hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush on my cheeks, the way the corners of my mouth twisted into a grin. And as observant and caring as my brother was, he was still a man. So of course he didn’t notice.

“Oh my Gosh!! When?” I ask, my voice rising an octave as it always did when I felt excited.

“In a couple weeks. I’ll be there for the Storms game, can you get me tickets? Please?”

I chuckle nodding. “Of course Kiran.”

A devilish grin spreads across his lips as he falls into thought. “Can’t believe I’m gonna get to see Paige Bueckers. Phew.”

My face turns red, whether with annoyance, jealousy or disgust I’m not sure. I roll my green eyes again, scoffing. “She’s gay. Leave that poor girl alone.”

“You don’t know if she is.”

If he only knew.

“She’s gay, and you’re not about to embarrass me,” I say sternly.

Kiran groans, throwing his head back. “Speaking of embarrassment, bumped into Jasper the other day.”

My jaw clenches just hearing his name, immediate frustration growing inside me.

“God, what an asshole. What were you thinking getting engaged to that knob?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “I wasn’t, pretty sure mom was thinking for me.”

“When is she not,” Kiran sighs when I hear a stern knock on my door. Strange, I wasn’t expecting anyone. The knock repeats, now louder and more desperate.

“Who is that?” My brother asks on the phone as I walk to the front door and look through the peephole. There she stands, 6 feet tall, rocking back and forth in a hoodie and basketball shorts, her blonde hair in a ponytail. Immediate butterflies release in my abdomen, fluttering everywhere making me feel giddy and warm.

“Uhh, I have to go. Let’s talk more tomorrow, yeah?” I say into the phone and hang up before my brother can even reply, opening the door for Paige.

The moment she sees me her mouth stretches into a charming smile, looking me up and down. I’m wearing white linen shorts and a matching button down, Paige’s eyes lingering on the bare skin of my thighs, my collarbone and right shoulder bare due to the lazy manner in which I had buttoned the shirt on my day off. The Dallas heat had forced me to adapt, to stop styling my hair since it would grow frizzy throughout the day, so I let it grow unruly (for my standards), allowing my natural waves to come through.

“Hey,” I hum, leaning against the doorway waiting to see what the blonde might need.

“Whatchu up to?” She asks with urgency.

“Nothing.”

“I’m boreeeeeed,” the younger girl whines, throwing her head back theatrically. “Let’s go on a road trip.”

I chuckle affectionately at her insane idea. “Paige I have work tomorrow love.”

The blonde’s blue eyes land on mine, making my heart skip a beat. “Iz I’m serious, I’m so bored I might die. Let’s go see the Big Bend.”

“Someone’s a little dramatic today.”

“Come with me. I’ll get you snacks,” Paige pleads, grabbing my smaller hand into hers, jolts rushing all throughout my body.

“Paige,” I warn her. “I have work tomorrow. Early. That’s like an eight hour drive.”

“Fine, somewhere else then. We’ll be back by… uh…” Paige checks her phone for the time. It’s three in the afternoon. “By nine. Or ten.”

“Paige!” I groan pulling my hand away. “We won’t even make it out of town. It makes no sense. Texas is too big. Maybe we can plan something for next week or something.”

Honestly, what stressed me out the most was that we hadn’t planned this.. That I had no idea what would happen, where we would even go. I was a planner. No discussion about it. I had always hated everything spontaneous, everything unsensible.

“Izzie, c’mon, trust me,” Paige’s voice softens, blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun like the surface of the ocean, lower lip pouting just a little. Something about her made me unsensible, made me want to do things that I knew weren’t smart, that made no sense. It was almost too easy for her to convince me.

“Please mama,” she coos almost silently and I nearly fall to my knees. No, not almost - it absolutely was far too easy for her to get me to cave.

“Where are we going? Do I need to pack? What do I need with me?”

Paige’s mouth twists into a glorious, winner’s smile. “Just bring a sweater it might get cold later, I’mma get us snacks on the way,” the girl says turning around. “I’ll meet you in the car!”

“Paige!” I yell after the blonde girl, making her stop in her tracks.

“What mama?”

“Back by ten okay?”

She smiles reassuringly. “I promise Iz.”

The soft hum of Paige’s Jeep is overtaken by the sound of r&b as we speed up on the highway, the blonde next to me singing quietly to herself. There was something exciting about the fact that neither of us knew where we were heading, just driving aimlessly towards the horizon, continuing as far as eyes could see. I pop another sour skittle into my mouth from the bag on my lap, Paige mindlessly reaching to my lap and doing the same, our fingers gracing as they touch. I immediately blush, chills running up my body just from the sheer momentary touch.

“My bad,” Paige chuckles, her voice a little shaky as she pulls her hand back. I giggle and grab some of the skittles, offering them to the blonde. Instead of grabbing them, the girl opens her mouth. I hesitate for a second, but feed them to her, one by one, my finger brushing against her lip. I watch as she grins, lost in the memory of how she kissed me. The weight of her mouth on mine. I’d be lying if I didn’t miss it.

“You hot?”

“Huh?” I ask, feeling the heat rise from my abdomen up my neck to my cheeks.

“Your face is red as hell,” Paige laughs, glancing at me. Embarrassed, I cover my face, knowing the reason deep down wasn’t the heat. No, it was the way I had been eyeing Paige’s tan hand wrapped around the wheel, the other resting on her lap on her Louis Vuitton basketball shorts, veins popping and prominent, fingers looking long and strong. It was something about the humid heat, and the excitement of our little spontaneous getaway that had the butterflies in my stomach fluttering.

“Whatchu hiding for?” She laughs, pulling my hand off my face.

“I must look ridiculous,” I groan, letting Paige’s big hand wrap around my dainty wrist with ease.

“You look cute when you get red like that,” the blonde murmurs, smiling to herself. I watch closely as she lowers both windows on her and my side to allow the breeze to come in and cool us down.

“Wait!! My hair!” I complain, quickly beginning to put the window back up. Paige pulls my hand away again, shaking her head. With the wind rushing in and cars speeding past, Paige has to yell over the noise.

“C’mon Iz just chill for one day,” she laughs. “You always look fine as hell. Let your hair down for once.”

With a sly smile I Ieave the window open, leaning towards the breeze and breathing it in. The wind plays in my hair, dark strands dancing wildly as we speed across the highway. The blonde girl beside me can’t keep her eyes on the road, blue eyes gazing at me with an affectionate smile. Ease begins to take over me, my never quiet mind finally beginning to slow down. A calm I hadn’t felt for years warms my chest, spreading across my body. It’s everything - the breeze in my hair, the smell of Paige lingering in the car, sandalwood and deodorant, her favourite songs playing, her presence beside me, the comforting certainty that no matter what I have a friend. Suddenly the car jerks, nearly swerving off the lane.

“Paige!” I gasp, snapping my hair towards her. A laugh spills from my mouth with ease.

“Shit, my bad,” the girl chuckles, her eyes snapping back onto the road. “You in a good mood huh?”

I nod, leaning my head against the seat and gazing into her gorgeous, tanned face. “Yeah, my brother called. He’s flying to Dallas in a couple weeks.”

“Kiran?”

She remembered my brother's name? I had mentioned him by name maybe once. A little shocked, I nod. “Yeah, Kiran.”

The blonde smiles, veiny hands holding the wheel a little lazily. “That’s awesome, am I gonna meet him?”

“I don’t know, I mean he wants to come to a game.”

“Yeah, I wanna meet him for sure,” Paige murmurs. “You two similar?”

I chuckle, nodding. “He is also a big list maker, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I love your little lists.”

I feel my heart swell, butterflies fluttering deep in my abdomen. I’m distracted though by What You Heard by Sonder beginning to play. Paige is caught off guard too, memories of that night at Lala’s and Arike’s flashing back apparent on both our faces. Her grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. But she lets it play, licking her plump lower lip as her face turns redder and redder.

“A lot of people find my list making annoying,” I mumble, remembering Jasper and the way he rolled his eyes whenever I took out my notebook and pen.

“That’s crazy. I love that about you,” Paige answers mindlessly. I look at the girl for a while, finally realising I had never felt so easily accepted by someone, just as I am. I could be myself, I could be uptight and high strung, I could have my hair undone and be overwhelmed and she still accepted me. All of me. It was strange, new, safe.

“Paige?” I ask, my voice softening. She lowers the volume of the song and glances at me.

“Yeah Iz?”

I sigh softly, watching the blonde. “Thank you for being such a good friend.”

The genuineness and vulnerability in my voice make Paige’s cheeks flush red. I notice a slight quiver of her lower lip.

The girl clears her throat, opening her mouth to speak and then thinking for a moment. “I thought I’d hate it in Dallas. Like I’d never get used to it, you know?”

I know. So I nod.

“But then I met you Iz, and you changed my mind about everything. The entire place.”

Her voice is soft and careful, even nervous. I watch as her right hand moves off her lap, inching to the center console and turning her palm upwards, knowing exactly what she meant. I’ve grown weak over the time I’ve known her, Paige’s gentle tone enough to make me fold. It wasn’t harmful, it wouldn’t lead to anything. So I reach over and place my hand on hers. Paige’s fingers lace perfectly with mine, the heat of her skin spreading like a careful, tender spark, tingling up my arm.

Paige takes a deep breath, the sound growing heavier and heavier as a response to the simple touch. “I don’t know Iz, the couple weeks we didn’t talk were hell. You’re the one thing that makes this place feel like home.”

It’s killing me. The way we’ve been holding hands for the past hours, just talking about everything. Our childhoods, our families, our first impressions of each other. Each time I had to pull my hand away the moment it returned to the center console Iz grabbed it quickly, as if eager to feel the warmth of my touch. I knew this was nearly crossing the line, but I could keep my emotions in control. I knew I could. I knew I could. After all, friends held hands all the time.

The smell of her perfume—pear and jasmine—was making me dizzy. Staring at the road became increasingly hard the further we drove, it becoming far too tempting to turn my eyes to the beautiful dark haired girl beside me.The sun begins to disappear behind a veil of dark clouds that roll in, a few drops of rain hitting the windshield of my jeep.

“Those clouds look dark,” Izzie murmurs, checking the time. It was early evening, our aimless drive having lasted for nearly four hours now. “Where even are we?”

I look around, watching the buildings around us. Must be some sort of nearby city. “I guess we oughta turn back,” I say, as the rain grows stronger, forcing me to turn on the windshield wipers.

Izzie looks around nervously, the drumming on the car roof becoming louder. Just as she opens her mouth, a downpour hammers down from the sky, streetlights blurring into golden smudges in the horizon. The windshield wipers struggle, not doing enough even on the fastest setting, making it impossible to see.

“Uh oh,” Izzie murmurs, chewing on her lower lips as her tension grows.

“Nahh, don’t worry. It’s gon pass soon,” I comfort the girl, reaching over to allow my fingertips to graze against her warm thigh gently. Her skin’s soft, goosebumps forming right underneath my touch. I pull the car over on the side of the street, watching as the people of the city scurry to hide from the storm underneath storefront canopies, rainwater pooling along the curb.

We wait—10 minutes, 15, half an hour. Nothing changes, everytime we think it’s about to pass, the downpour only grows louder. Nervously, I tap on the radio and turn the volume up, listening for any reports on the rain. Like clockwork, the radio program is interrupted.

“We interrupt this radio program for a weather warning. There is severe rainfall expected in the area, causing potentially dangerous driving conditions. We heavily encourage everyone to avoid driving until the following morning.”

The silence between me and Iz is deafening, the tension in the car rising abruptly. I could sense her anxiety bubbling right underneath her skin.

“Shit,” I murmur, sighing as I look at the girl next to me, staring blankly at the city. Then, she finally sighs and buries her face into her hands.

“I am so fucked,” she groans, chest heaving with stress. “What are we going to do Paige?”

“Hey,” I murmur and unbuckle my seatbelt to reach over the center console. My hand rubs Izzie’s back soothingly through the thin fabric of her linen button down. “I’mma figure it out, okay ma? I’ll find a hotel for us.”

“No, I got work tomorrow! I can’t just stay here!” Izzie groans. I knew this was her worst nightmare coming to life. For once I got her to be spontaneous, to let her guard down, and this happens. She’ll never let me take her anywhere anymore.

“Iz, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out. I can call someone up and tell em you can’t make it tomorrow.”

“No, you can’t call Linda. She can’t know you’re with me.”

“Okay, then you’ll call her up, just tell her you’re sick or sumn,” I say, trying desperately to find a solution. I never wanted to see her upset or stressed and couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt over the situation, despite it being out of my control.

Izara sighs, lifting her gaze from the palms of her hands. “What if she fires me?”

“Over one day off?” I laugh, but from Izzie’s face I can tell she doesn’t find it as amusing as I do. So I quickly straighten my face. “She won’t. Trust mama, you can take one day off.”

the dark haired girl sighs and looks at me, arched brows furrowed with worry. Without much thought I raise my hand to her cheek, stroking the skin with my thumb. She leans into my touch, exhaling shakily.

“I promise, Iz.”

The hotel room is much smaller than I’d hoped, the air smelling stale, the dust floating around making Izzie sneeze as she enters.

“Bless you,” I mumble, lowering the bag of toiletries we had bought in a momentary panic onto a single wooden desk. I look around at the faded yellow curtains and the double bed barely fitting in the room, white sheets covering it neatly. Iz leans down and smells the fabric, pausing for a moment.

“At least I think they’ve been washed,” she groans, taking her sandals of and flopping into the bed. I felt a little embarrassed not having found anything better for her. She deserved the world, if only I could give it to her.. Not this musty hotel room with a bed that would just about fit both of us for the night. I swear it was the only room left in the entire town.

“Iz I’m sorry I couldn-”

“Nonsense,” she stops me middle of the sentence with a simple raise of her hand, closing her eyes and rubbing her stomach. “I’m just happy to be in a bed after that meal.”

"You didn’t even eat that much," I scoff, walking over to the bed and flopping beside her.

"Yeah, how does one eat three double cheeseburgers?" She asks, amusement flickering in her eyes.

My mouth falls open in mock offense. “I’m an athlete, and tall, I gotta eat to keep these muscles.” I flex my arms, Izzie’s green eyes watching my bicep, a momentary flash of hungriness in her eyes before they snap to the ceiling.

“I don’t believe you haven’t had McDonald’s in like 10 years,” I mumble.

Izzie laughs. “My parents hated McDonald’s.”

“Your parents strict?” I ask. The girl chuckles and nods.

“Very. But it comes from a loving place. They just… always think they know what’s best for you, even better than you do,” Iz explains. “My mom’s still trying to get me to get back with Jasper.”

“Never get back together with that asshole,” I murmur, feeling protective over what she had told me back in Chicago.

“Trust me, I will not,” she says certainly, shifting a little. Our arms press together, tingling with electricity. My heart thrums in my chest as silence settles between us, the beating of my heart the only sound in my ears. My entire body buzzes as I come to the realisation that we’d be spending the night here, sharing a bed, the tight space forcing us to stay close. A month ago the idea of this would’ve driven me insane. But I knew now losing our friendship was much worse than losing the opportunity of having her body. I’d much rather bury my wildest thoughts deep inside and never let them show. Never let Izara see how badly my body ached for her, how she was the only thing in my mind every time I brought a girl home, how I closed my eyes and imagined their gasps and whimpers were her’s. She never had to know. As long as she was my friend I could live.

Yet I can’t help it when my middle finger jerks towards the soft skin of her hand, brushing against it gently. I feel the girl’s hand press closer to mine, her pinky mirroring my movements in soothing strokes. I swallow loudly, praying to God Izzie can’t hear the pounding of my heart the way I can as I gather my courage, carefully entangling my fingers with hers.

I hear the way the dark haired girl’s breath hitches in her throat in response to my touch. We lie there for a while, side by side, staring at the ceiling, holding hands. The dust settling in the air made me want to cough, but I was afraid it might ruin the moment, or disturb Izzie, making her pull back. I want to turn my head to see the girl’s face. To try to read her mind, to figure out what she was thinking.

But then I feel her leg moving on the mattress, bare silky skin of her calf pressing into mine. My eyes flutter shut as I inch closer, feeling her leg wrap around mine, our feet touching. My mouth parts to gulp air in an attempt to calm down. It doesn’t work, my ears and face turning hot.

“Paige?”

Izzie’s voice is trembling when it cuts through the silence. I try to gather myself enough to speak, her proximity driving me insane.

“Yeah?” I whisper, my voice weak and hoarse. The stretched out silence after only makes my heart beat faster, mind spin even more as I wait for the girl to answer.

“I’m gonna get in the shower.”

Suddenly Izzie is getting up, leg and hand untangling with mine as she disappears into the bathroom, leaving only the faint smell of pear and jasmine.

Pull yourself together. You’re a grown woman. You need to stop playing this cat and mouse game with this poor girl. It’s all I can tell myself as I stare into the mirror, my own reflection staring back at me. I tighten the white towel wrapped around my torso, splashing cold water onto my face. Letting my hair down from a clip, I allow it to fall over my shoulders, trying to clear my mind of Paige. But it killed me, knowing she was right outside that door, lying in bed in her sports bra and basketball shorts, waiting.

I pull my white linen set back on, rubbing at my stiff shoulders from the long drive and the turmoil in my mind. I felt like I was in a fight with myself, constantly debating between what made sense and what I really wanted. Honestly, the entire time I had known Paige it felt like that. Like I couldn’t come to an agreement with myself.

Stepping out of the bathroom I find the blonde slouching on the bed, flipping through TV channels and snacking on Tru Fru. Her gaze quickly lifts to me, lingering on my face. Still, I don’t think twice about not having make up on. Something about Paige made me feel confident in myself. Like I didn’t have to control the way she viewed me 24/7.

“Shower’s good,” I mumble, sitting on the edge of the bed. Paige throws the remote onto the blanket and sighs.

“They don’t got any good channels,” she groans, pouting as the laugh track of whatever sitcom echoes through the tiny room. I chuckle, rubbing the muscles on my shoulder absentmindedly to ease the tension. Paige sits up, worried.

“Your shoulders hurt?” She asks. I nod with a low chuckle.

“When do they not.”

“Lie down,” the blonde commands carefully, patting the bed. I shake my head.

“No it’s okay love,” I murmur.

Paige pats the bed again. “C’mon Iz, let me help.”

I can’t resist the neediness of her voice, let alone the desperate look in her eye. If she only knew how wrapped around her finger I already was, despite acting like I would never be. So I lie down flat on my stomach, letting my shorts hike up to my upper thigh.

The blonde climbs on top of me, careful not to put all her weight on me as her fingers brush my dark, thick hair aside. Immediate goosebumps rise to my skin as she touches my neck.

“You wanna take this off ma?” She whispers carefully, tugging on my button down. I know she’s right, yet something about how intimate it felt makes my head spin. Wordlessly, with a shaky hand, I unbutton the shirt, each button a struggle. Paige helps me, pulling it off my body once it’s undone, leaving me only in a black lacy bra and the hiked up shorts. My heart pounds too loudly to hear Paige’s breathing growing heavier.

Gently, the girl's fingers dig into my muscles, starting off slow and gentle. Massaging away knots by my shoulder blades. Her hands work skillfully, increasing pressure before I could ask, like she knew exactly what I needed. I grow more and more relaxed, becoming unaware of the soft sighs spilling from my lips. Paige’s hands travel downwards, onto my lower back, big hands wrapping around my sides and kneading the muscles. I bite my lower lip trying not to moan, feeling myself growing wet at how perfectly my body fit into her skillful hands.

“Is this good?” Paige whispers, the sitcom still murmuring in the background. I barely hear it though, too ecstatic to be aware of anything but how good this feels.

“So good,” I coo softly, letting the blonde’s hands work my back. She hisses, clearly pleased with the praise.

“You need to learn to relax ma,” she sighs, her fingertips carefully sliding beneath the strap of my bra to massage there. “Told you I could get you to relax.”

“Feel so relaxed,” I murmur half asleep. “You’re so good.”

The blonde groans, but I don’t hear it, my eyes growing heavy as my body melts underneath Paige. I lose awareness of everything around me, drifting into a restful sleep.

I lie next to the sleeping girl, lazily stroking her back, my hand tracing along her spine as the sitcom grows more interesting the longer I watch. I couldn’t bring myself to wake Izzie, so after she fell asleep, I turned off the lights and tucked her in, though the blankets were hardly necessary in the heat of Dallas.

I glance down at Iz, her mouth slightly parted, heavy breathing turning into quiet snores at times, long dark eyelashes resting against her cheeks as her face pressed into the pillow. She had never looked so beautiful, her guard fully down, the arch of her brows softened in her sleep.

I inch lower on the bed, turning to my side, blue eyes roaming her face. Her sharp nose, plump lips, round chin. Her skin that had gotten darker in the sun, making her even more gorgeous than before if possible. I was utterly, completely obsessed with everything about her. If she only knew. She’s perfect.

I lift my hand off her body, careful not to disturb her. She stirs slightly, a contented hum escaping from her lips. Izzie’s brows furrow the slightest bit, as she lets out a barely audible moan. Her lips part further in a quiet whimper as she stirs yet again, legs shifting underneath the blanket.

I watch closely, concerned, considering waking her up. Maybe she’s having a nightmare. As I’m about to place my hand on her arm I hear it. My name. Or I think I do.

“Paige…” she murmurs against her arm, shifting a little yet again. The sleeping girl moans again, now the sound much clearer. “Paige…”

My heart nearly stops, breath hitching in my throat as I realize she’s not just stirring—she’s pressing her thighs together under the blanket. She's not having a nightmare, no, not at all.

My breathing grows heavy as I watch the girl’s cheeks flush red in the dim light coming in through the window, Izzie’s mouth falls open as she lets out a soft whimper, flipping onto her back sleepily. My need to touch her that had been killing me all day suddenly grows large enough to make me groan, my hand coming to rub my face as if to distract from my thoughts. It doesn’t help that as she flips over her full, round breasts are on display, sitting pretty in the black lace bra.

Suddenly the girl stirs again and her eyes flutter open, too quickly for me to turn away.

“P-Paige?” she whispers with a shaky voice before turning her head to me, just inches from mine.

“I’m right here ma,” I mumble, feeling my boxers growing wet.

Her tired green eyes find mine, a shaky breath spilling from between her lips. My tongue darts out to wet my lower lip, eyes fluttering all over her flushed face. “You fell asleep,” I coo.

Izara’s eyes are locked into my own, as she comes out of her tired confusion. “I…” She murmurs, her long lashes fluttering against her cheek. Then, her hand comes to my face, brushing off a strand of hair, touch tickling on my skin. And I can’t take it anymore.

I lean over and my lips press into hers, mouth opening in desperation. Izara’s mouth parts as quickly as mine, both of us moaning as our lips glide together, swollen and slick. I feel breathless, pulling back to catch my breath but Izzie’s hands are already pulling me back in, a hopeless whine coming out of the girl.

“Please don’t stop,” she whimpers, making my mind spin. My perfect girl, who I had been aching for since I met her, begging me not to stop.

“Won’t ever stop unless you want me to,” I groan into her mouth, tongue clashing into hers. There’s a struggle for dominance, which she quickly gives up when my hand lands on the warm skin of her waist, squeezing.

I’m taken by surprise when Izara pushes me to my back, climbing on top of me without ever breaking the kiss. I moan embarrassingly loud, my hands roaming up and down her back, toying with her bra clasp.

“Let me take it off, please Iz,” I murmur against her lips. I had been imagining what she looked like completely topless since the moment I met her. I needed to see her, now.

Izzie chuckles gently and sits up on top of me, pulling away from the kiss making me wince.

“Then take it off,” she says, gazing down at me. I look up at her in desperation, shaky hands working the clasp until it pops open. The straps fall off her shoulders, and gently I pull the bra off, revealing her perfect, round breasts, groaning loudly at the sight.

“Oh shit,” I moan, watching the way her puffy nipples harden as I touch her side. My hand travels to the back of her head, and I pull the girl down, kissing her neck desperately.

“Paige…” Iz murmurs, grinding her hips into mine. My nose nuzzles into her ear, kissing it sloppily before returning to her neck, careful not to leave marks.

“Say that shit again,” I whimper. “Say my name.”

“Paige,” Izzie moans. My hands on the girl's waist maneuver her so I’m face to face with her breasts, mouth wide open as I kiss them. The moment I latch onto her nipple, a loud gasp escapes her lips. “Oh fuck.”

“Perfect tits, all for me,” I mumble, tongue circling her hardened nipple before sucking. Izara whimpers again, body yielding to me. Tenderly, I flip her onto her back, leaving a small red mark on her left breast, fitting into my large hand perfectly.

Izzie arches her back as I pull back to really look at her, to take in the moment that I’d been dying for. My chest heaves, my mind struggling to wrap around what was happening. I didn't dare to miss a moment, a twitch of a muscle, a single soft sigh. I needed to savour all of it. I run my hand from the girl’s face downwards, gently caressing her breast and ribs and lower stomach, eyes blown black with lust.

“Paige,” Izzie hums, eyes fluttering open. Her pupils are barely green anymore, filled with need and desperation.

“Iz,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her gently, trying to show her how badly I needed this. How beautiful she was, how much I wanted to please her. How badly my core ached for her.

“Please,” she whimpers into the kiss, bucking her hips.

“Shh, it’s okay mama,” I answer, beginning to kiss her neck. “You’ll get it. Need to take my time.”

A desperate whine escapes Izara’s mouth, her hands coming to my shoulders. “No, now.”

The sternness in her voice takes me by surprise, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Oh she bossy huh?” I grin, pulling back to see the girl’s face. It’s just as stern as her voice, her fingers weaving into my hair and yanking just enough to force me to let out a moan.

“Now,” she repeats, hands pushing me. I immediately melt, my boxers growing wetter as I’m pushed down her body. My nose nuzzles against her abdomen, fingers eagerly coming to the band of her shorts. She wants it now? I’ll give it to her now. I’ll do anything for her, anything to make her happy.

Suddenly I feel desperate too, tugging her shorts and underwear off at once. Izzie moans, feeling the air hit her core, glistening in the dim lighting from how wet she is. My mouth immediately begins to water.

I lower myself between her legs, breath tingling against her skin. “Are you sure, Iz?” I ask carefully, wrapping my arms around her thighs.

Izzie whines and arches her back, looking down at me. “Yes, Paige, now. Please.”

I don’t hesitate, diving straight in. My tongue darts out licking along her slit, tasting her. Really tasting her. It’s heaven. She tastes better than I could have ever imagined. My eyes immediately roll back, overwhelmed by her. “Oh my God…” I groan into her clit, beginning to work her with all the skills I had in the world. It felt as if my entire life had led to this moment.

“Ohhh… baby,” Izzie whimpers, voice shaking and hands grabbing a hold of my hair. It’s the most beautiful sound in the world. I moan again, feeling like I might cum untouched by the time I’m done with her.

Paige’s mouth is wrapped around my clit, sucking and licking through my folds. I swear in only a few minutes of her working me I could feel my core pulsing and dripping, the blonde getting me close faster than I even knew was possible. I was a mess, eyes teary, loud moans filling the room, hips squirming and Paige following with ease. I look down and watch the blonde, who’s whimpering and moaning as if she’s the one getting off.

“Paige, baby…” I cry out, pulling on her blonde hair.

“Tell me…” she gasps between licks. “Tell me how good it feels.”

It felt downright filthy, the way we spoke to each other, the way we wanted each other. I had never experienced it before.

“Feels so good my love,” I moan, my back arching as her tongue lies flat on my clit, moving in a sloppy circle. “You make me feel so fucking good.”

Paige moans, reaching up to knead my breast, my hard nipple pressing against her palm as she keeps up with her pace, the knot deep in my tummy tightening and tightening.

“Izara you taste so good,” she hums against me. “Never gonna get enough. This pussy’s perfect.”

Her filthy words ignite something within me, my climax beginning to roam over my body.

“P-Paige, don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” I whimper desperately, my voice turning high pitched.

“Fuck, you already close?” She asks shocked, but continues the sloppy, skilled movements of her mouth. I nod desperately, gasping for air as Paige pins me to the mattress, face glistening with my wetness.

“Mhm, don’t stop. Don’t stop. Fuck, I-”

“I gotchu beautiful, c’mon baby. Lemme make you feel good,” Paige coos.

“P-Paige!” I gasp, the knot in my stomach snapping as I pull her even closer into my pussy, her moans getting muffled against my folds. My back arches and the whimpers get louder as jolts of pleasure wash over me like waves, body trembling badly. I feel ecstatic, completely out of it. I had never felt pleasure like this before.

She keeps eating me through my climax, my hands pulling her back by her hair once the sensation becomes too much. The blonde lifts her head, looking completely fucked out, lids heavy and a dopey grin on her face, my wetness dripping down her chin.

“I’m never getting sick of that,” Paige says breathlessly, licking her chin clean of me. I blush covering my face in embarrassment of what just happened.

“Come here,” I giggle but the blonde shakes her head.

“Lemme clean you up first. You made a mess,” she smirks, leaning back down and beginning to gently, carefully licking every inch of my sensitive, dripping cunt. My eyes roll back immediately, hand grabbing the sheets, the cotton soft under my sticky back.

“Paige, I’m already done,” I chuckle, pushing her off lightheartedly. But she grabs my hands and pins them against the mattress, lifting her face.

“Only once?” She asks, which surprises me. To finish twice felt selfish. I was lucky if I finished once in my previous relationship.

“Baby you don’t need to, it felt so good.”

Paige chuckles, coming back up from between my legs and kissing me sloppily. Her tongue slips into my mouth, forcing me to taste myself. It’s dirty, making that fire deep inside me ignite again. Suddenly I wanted more of her. Paige can tell, reading my body with ease.

“Need to fuck you again,” she whines, hand squeezing my thigh. “Please mama.”

The whine of her voice, the way she’s begging drives me insane. So I nod, chasing her gaze. “Fuck me Paige.”

Without a warning, Paige’s finger slides inside me, the sudden intrusion making me gasp. Paige grins satisfied, breathing shakily.

“How is this pussy so tight,” the blonde groans, struggling to fit in a second finger. My body molds around her, eyes rolling back from the stretch.

“Oh fuck,” I moan, feeling her fingers curling against the spongey tissue inside me, finding the perfect spot with incredible ease. My hand goes to Paige’s shorts, tugging on them desperately. “Take these off.”

“Shit,” the girl hisses at my command, pulling them down with her free hand. There’s a visible wet spot on her grey boxers, making my core pulse around her fingers. The blonde pulls the boxers off too, and I watch as she presses her dripping cunt onto my thigh.

We both moan at the contact, the air thick with the sound of our joint gasps and the squelching sound of her strong, skilled fingers buried inside me. It doesn’t take long for both of our bodies to be trembling with pleasure, Paige’s blue eyes locked with mine as she grinds her clit against the soft skin of my thigh.

“Wanted this for so long,” the blonde moans, brows furrowed in deep pleasure. I nod, agreeing and gasping for air as the pace of her fingers speeds up.

“Me too baby,” I whimper. “You fuck me so good Paige.” It was so unlike me to be saying these things, but it’s something in her that got me to do new things. To find an ease.

Paige moans in response to my words, her head lulling as her eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. The most beautiful girl in the world I swear,” she hums, grinding on me faster, more sloppy. “You know that?”

I moan, Paige’s fingers beginning to pump into me at an incredible pace, my entire body beginning to burn up. I feel my pussy throbbing around her fingers, squeezing her. The blonde feels it too, her jaw falling slack.

“Perfect girl with a perfect pussy.”

My eyes roll back at these words, feeling my orgasm begin to take over. However, Paige’s hand grabs my jaw, my eyes opening from the contact.

“No, Izzie, keep those eyes on me. Wanna look at you- fuck,” she moans for a moment, unable to speak from how close she’s getting. “Need to look into your eyes when I cum.”

No one has even made me feel like this, this ecstatic. No one has ever been so good to me. Made me feel this heavenly. No one’s ever said these things to me. Looked at me like this. It’s borderline overwhelming.

As Paige adds a third finger and pushes it inside me, my moans turn high pitched and desperate. The stretch is overwhelming but I keep my eyes open on the blonde’s scrunched up face.

“Shii- Tell me you’re- fuck, please tell me you’re close baby,” Paige moans, the movement of her hips turning frantic, fingers curling against me with force. My body tightens around her fingers, body writhing in pleasure. The climax right around the corner, coming on even stronger than the first one.

“I’m- I’m close,” I cry out as Paige’s thumb presses into my clit with every pump of her fingers.

“Oh sh- Iz- Izzie, you feel so good,” the blonde gasps, rambling as her orgasm approaches.

“Paige,” I whine.

“Look at me. Look at me Izzie.”

My eyes lock onto her face as my climax washes over me a million times more intense than the first time around. My back arches off the bed and eyes involuntarily roll back. The sight sets Paige off, her eyes locked on my face as she comes with me, rambling in a daze, something I can’t even hear over how loud my own moans are.

The girl collapses on top of me, making me wince as she pulls her fingers out of me. Paige’s skin sticks to mine, her nose nuzzling against my cheek. My eyes flutter open, watching the blonde girl’s face resting on the pillow next to me.

“Hey,” Paige murmurs, leaning over and kissing my forehead. It makes my chest flutter.

“Hey,” I copy the girl, smiling gently. A bright smile spreads to her face.

“That was…” Paige starts, shaking her head.

“Amazing,” I finish her sentence, giggling a little. Truthfully no words could describe how good that felt. How euphoric it was. However, as the silence settles, I can see a hint of hesitation on the blonde’s face. I suppose this changes everything, I knew it did. Worst of all I had come to a realisation that would flip everything on its head.

“Paige,” I whisper, chasing her gaze. The girl’s blue eyes meet mine, expectant.

“Yeah?”

I take a deep breath. “I don’t think I can be just friends with you.”

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#so it goes #lilas writing yaps #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfic #wnba x oc #Spotify

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rafesplaymate · 7 months ago

Text

Off to the Races

Chapter ii

Older!Rafe Cameron x Stepdaughter!Reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ navigation. ੈ✩‧₊˚ masterlist ੈ✩‧₊˚ series masterlist

warnings: emotional infidelity. pseudo / stepcest. dd/lg dynamics. dark themes.

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Rafe didn’t think much of it when he came home one day to his living room full of cardboard boxes and pretty pink suitcases. The details of his stepdaughter’s arrival being handled by his wife all on his dime. He didn’t mind, he was more than happy to provide for what would be his family. Yet, he struggled to accept that he would have a 19 year old girl in his house who was suppose to be under his guidance. He could handle babies or toddlers, maybe even a young teen but she’s practically a young woman already. Legal enough to vote and 2 years away from being legal enough to drink. He throws his suitcase on the dining room table as he runs a hand over his face with a sigh. Shrugging off his jacket on the top of one of the chairs of the table and rolling his sleeves up. Rafe walked to the kitchen ready to shout his wife’s name, and look for her when the sight he saw made him stop in his tracks.

Now this, was a nice little surprise. Rafe knows he’s a married man fuck —he knows. If the gold wedding band on his left ring finger was anything to go by. But he’s only a man and he can’t help but stare at the pert little ass spread out in front of him in tiny pink shorts as the top half off whoever was in his fridge rummaged through. His eyes ran down the pretty legs exposed to him and locked on the way her ass was so spread out that he could almost practically see the imprint of her pussy. He cleared his throat and the figure jumped a little, immediately standing up and turning around. The face that came into view made Rafe’s heart stop.

A sweet little angel was standing in front him, a gorgeous face that glowed with youth. Her pretty eyes accentuated by wispy lashes, her plump pout accentuated with a shimmery gloss slathered across. Her wrinkle free complexion dewy with natural makeup and the way she batted her lashes as she took him in as well made him want to groan under his chest. His eyes quickly moved down her half-turned position. Taking in the side swell of her breast in the matching tube top, down to her pinched in waist and pert ass. Fuck —so fucking beautiful. That’s all he could think as he felt his cock harden. His brain racked as he could only come up with one conclusion as to who this is, dread filling in his chest and he told himself this better not be- “oh! You must be Rafe. I’m y/n… your stepdaughter.” Said a sweet voice that sounded like music to his ears, her words registering in his short-circuiting brain. Fuck. His stepdaughter.

Rafe cleared his throat as she turned her front to him and stepped fordeward, plump chest bouncing with each step as her hardened nipples poked through the light pink fabric. Pretty tummy looking so soft and nuzzable as she reached out a pretty manicured hand. Rafe quickly shook the sinful thoughts building in his mind as he finally acknowledged her, his large hand encasing hers as they shook in each other’s grasp. Both their chest tightening and eyes stuck on each other’s as they refused to let go. Sparks were flying, so many fucking sparks that it made a small gasp fall from her pretty lips and his grip on her hand tighten slightly. His cobalt eyes cutting into her as she cowered under his strong gaze. He was so handsome. The years doing good by him and she could not believe this was her stepdad. Why was heat building quickly inbetween her legs for a man who was almost 20 years her senior, a man who was again her stepdad.

When Rafe finally made the move to speak, he dropped her hand quickly before the overwhelming tension that built suffocated him. Running the hand over the back of his buzz-cut as he gave her a warm smile. “Welcome y/n. It’s uh-it’s nice to meet you, your mom hasn’t stopped talking about your arrival.” He drawled, his voice making her want to whimper from how sexy it was. Everything about his was so sexy and she wanted to feel sick at herself for finding him so attractive but how could she? How could anyone? She bat her long lashes at him as she gave him a shy smile before biting her bottom lip. Looking down bashfully at her pedicured toes which Rafe immediately took notice of. He loved a well-pampered girl. Especially one that looked as sweet as her and smelled like creamy vanilla that was hitting his nose. His sweet little stepdaughter who he only just met but all he wants to do is devour her whole.

“Oh, I um.. I guess.” She sighed out, looking back up at him as she shrugged with an ironic smile. “I wish she felt the same way when I was born.” She admitted with a shy whisper, immediately looking down again as she realize she said it to the man her mother was married to. Hoping he didn’t take any offense to her mommy issues. Rafe sighed, stepping forward and reaching his hand under her chin. He pushed it up with his index finger and pinched it with his chin as she looked into his piercing gaze one more. “I know sweetheart, but be happy she’s making the effort now. You’ll be so happy here, I know it. We’re gonna take care of you. Don’t let a thing worry that little brain, you’re home now.” He comforted her, his use of a pet name making her insides turn into goo as she gave him a sweet smile which he immediately returned. He pinched her chin lovingly then pulled it away. He then knocked her chin lightly with his index finger making her let out a sweet giggle that he wanted to hear all the time. His heart already making space for her as she made his insides warm up. Sweet babygirl, I’m going to take such good care of you. Their sweet moment being interrupted by a voice he knew all too well.

“Oh great! You guys have met already I’m so glad! Honey..this is my babygirl!” Gushed his wife as her heels clacked over to her scantily clad daughter, hugging her as the younger girl tensed. Patting her back awkwardly as she looked at Rafe over her mom’s shoulder. Rafe reassured her with a wink and smile, that made her body loosen immediately and return her mother’s embrace. The older woman pulled back with a big smile as she turned to her husband, walking over to him and sliding her hands up his chest as she greeted him with a long peck. “Hi honey, m’so glad you’re home.” She drawled from the back of her throat, closing her eyes and kissing him once more as he stared at the girl behind her. Her pretty lips turning into a small frown as she looked down once more, arms crossing over her chest while she brought one out to inspect her manicure. When his wife pulled back from the kiss he was still staring at his stepdaughter. His gaze quickly moving to his wife’s as he gave her a warm yet not all genuine smile. Her smoothed her hair back as he greeted her with a, “hi honey.” Her smile widened as she turned to her daughter while looping her arm around Rafe’s waist. The two intertwined as they stared at her. Only in different ways. While his wife stared at her with giddiness, ready to build a relationship with her neglected child. Rafe stared at her with a slight frown marring his perfect face. He hated the way she caved in on herself, keeping her gaze down on her toes while she fiddled with her fingers.

“Baby, do you need Rafe to help you put your stuff in your room?” Her mother said softly, stepping forward and reaching out her hand to caress her daughter’s upper arm. The younger girl looked up at her mom, sadness still lingering in her eyes as she nodded slightly. Moving her gaze to Rafe as she cowered under his eye contact, moving her eyes down again immediately. Rafe hated seeing her this way, already feeling so protective of the little princess that landed in his home and was carving out her place in his heart. “Of course. C’mon princess show me where you want it.” He reached out his hand, waiting for her to place hers in his open palm. The younger girl looking at her mom for reassurance, her mom gave her quick nod with a warm smile. Only then, is when she placed her pretty hand into his. The use of a nickname once again settling in her as she smiled at him once more; Rafe immediately returning it with satisfaction settling in his chest. He guided her out of the kitchen and helped her move everything she had with her guidance and soft voice pointing out where she wanted her things to be settled.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After less than an hour Rafe brought the last of her things to her room. Watching as her eyes took everything in, moving to the balcony doors and opening them. She walked through excitedly and giggled to herself as she took in the lowering sun, leaving a warm orange haze over Kildare. She sighed as she leaned on the railing, not believing she gets to call this grand room and beautiful view her home. So different from the small apartment and bustling city she used to live in. Rafe shuffled slowly behind her onto the balcony, coming next to her as his eyes stared at her. He watched as she took everything in, her eyes shining with happiness. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He broke the silence, watching her pretty eyes look into his as she nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” She shyly admitted, looking back at the sun kissing the ocean. Like two lovers meeting again in a warm greeting. Rafe’s eyes still holding onto her as he took in her glow in the lowering sun, his new sweet little angel who he was liking more than just in a fatherly sense.

He watched as her eyes welled up and a single tear dripped down her cheek, more following after from both as her lips pursed in a frown and her chin wobbled. Rafe’s brows furrowing in concern as he took in her the melancholic energy radiating off of her, immediately grabbing her in his arms. She immediately latched onto him, his hand pushing her face into his neck as a sob fell from her lips. Tears wetting his skin as he brought his hand to caress her head, laying his cheek on her as his other arm wrapped around her. “Hey princess,” he cooed to her. “What’s wrong, huh? C’mon sweet girl,” he urged her to answer as her hands curled into his button up and she buried face harder into him. His natural scent, cologne and warm skin immediately soothing her. He smelled and felt like home. His big arms around her as she felt safe in a way she hasn’t in so long. Her dad never held her like this, he never comforted her pain.

Rafe rocked them side to side as her sobs minimized into soft sniffles and whimpers, her arms coming to wrap around his waist as she pulled back to look into his eyes. Her head craning up to look at him as he craned his down. Taking in her red-rimmed eyes, long lashes clumped with tears, and red-tipped nose as he cooed at her once more. So precious, a little doll who needs to be taken care of and protected. He would do just that, he would do anything for her. It’s been only just a couple hours since they met and he’s already completely enamored by her, his feelings walking the tight line of paternal and something romantic. He didn’t know and he didn’t care to figure it out right then. All he knew is that she was his now, under his roof and he was going to ensure his angel was well-taken care of. Rafe brought the hand that was caressing her hair and used his index finger to wipe away her tears, “what’s wrong, hm? What’s got you so down? Aren’t you happy?” He cooed to her once more, cupping her cheek as he urged her to speak. Her lips still in a precious out and swollen from her crying. All he could think is how kissable they look, and as much as he liked how pretty she looked with tears streaming down her cheeks he hated it being from a negative emotion.

“I-I am,” she croaked out, voice raspy from her sobbing session as she nuzzled her cheek into his hand. “I just feel so overwhelmed, so much to take in. I-I’ve never..” she trailed off, looking down as she pushed her forehead onto his chest. Rafe immediately put his hand under her chin and pushed her head up to look back into his eyes, urging her to continue. “I’ve never had anything like this before. I’m so grateful, I’ve never been held so tightly this way or cared about. My dad was… let’s just say he wasn’t always nice an-and we lived paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment. For all this to be mine an-and you being so sweet to me. It’s all so much, and m’sorry for crying.” She whispered the last part, Rafe taking in her words as his arm tightened around her and his thumb and index finger pinched her chin. He gave her a sad smile as his thumb caressed her. The tip of it grazing the bottom of her lower lip. Anger building in his chest at the thought that she’s been living like that for so long, she deserves everything. All the luxury he was going to provide for her and he doesn’t even want to dwell on what she said about her father. He can’t imagine anyone treating her less than the princess she is. His princess now.

“It’s okay, baby.” He felt her hands fist the back of his shirt as he granted her a new nickname. Something way more intimate than the one he’s been calling her. “I’m gonna take care of you okay,” he spoke seriously, holding her eyes with his piercing gaze as he urged her to understand his words. Watching hers soften slightly, “You don’t need to worry about him anymore, or worry about that life anymore. You’re here now, with me. With your mom.” He added the last part for the sake of some normalcy, watching her deflate slightly as she remembered this was her mother’s husband. A woman who gave her up so easily and lived a beautiful life while knowing her daughter didn’t. “Maybe one day, you’ll tell me everything. For now, I want you to get some rest and sleep in the big bed that’s all yours now.” He pinched her chin once last time, using it to bring her closer as he guided his lips to her forehead. Kissing it softly with small pecks as both their eyes closed.

Warmth radiated over them and encased them in a small bubble. The orange haze of the lowering sun a physical representation of such. Deep inside they both knew this was crossing a big boundary, they should feel sick at being so touchy with each other so early on especially under the circumstances. He’s her stepdad, she’s his stepdaughter. Though they can’t find it in themselves to care, because it felt so fucking good and neither of them wanted it to end. They could stay in each other’s arms forever it felt like. The intense spark between the two beginning to build into a flame that neither would yet realize, would eventually grow and explode into something grand. Something that would blow up a lot of things, damaging them to no repair. Only they together would survive the explosion.

“Daddy’s here now, and I’m not letting you go. Ever.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

a/n: PHEW! they’re soulmates in case yall couldn’t catch that! i wanted it to be an instantaneous love kind of thing. let’s see where this relationship winds up. please let me know your thoughts it would be so appreciated! and if you’d like to be added to the taglist pls let me know as well! thank you all so much for the support!!! much love, enjoy!

taglist: @xcinnamonmalfoyx @dreamygirli3 @littlelamy @ghoslyethastaryn @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysbebe @enjoymyloves @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @starkeyboyismine

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potatoplace · 3 months ago

Text

A Place In This World

The Afterthought: Chapter 5 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

chapter 4 | chapter 6 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Working at Sevenda's is a welcome escape from the River House, where you've become little more than a ghost after Starfall.

Warnings: toxic family, depression, self deprecating thoughts (none of them are too terrible this chapter)

Words: ~8.4k

Author's Note: I never seem to get as far in the plot as I want to in every update... This chapter isn't too crazy exciting, but there's some sweet moments and a little bit of angst with the sisters. I hope you all enjoy this update! Title is of course from Miss Swift 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

Your neck was stiff when you came to, the beginnings of the morning sun spilling across your face.

The ground outside was glistening with a fresh layer of snow, nearly untouched at this time in the morning. It seemed even the early risers had chosen to sleep in today, after the revelry of Starfall last night.

You, however, wouldn't stay asleep any longer. Not with the cold numbness slithering through your chest, curling itself around your heart, your lungs, your ribs. An absent hand came to rub at your chest, to bring some semblance of life into your hollow heart once more.

No such luck.

A glance at the clock that had recently been placed above your bedroom door told you that it was half past six.

That gave you two and a half hours to bathe, drink tea, possibly eat something, dress, and make your way to Sevenda's.

You did just that, sinking down into hot water, a sigh leaving your lips as your body soaked in the heat. You could almost pretend you felt alive.

After forcing yourself from the bath, you dressed in a simple, dark green dress. It was made of cozy wool, and the long sleeves were easily pushed up to make whatever work Sevenda would give you easier. It fit you loosely and reached to just above the tops of your feet, something you were grateful for after last night.

The feel of all those males' eyes on you... It was unsettling then, and unsettling to think about now. You could hardly imagine wanting to be looked at like that by someone you actually liked, let alone by strangers... How could Feyre stand it? How could anyone stand it? You supposed each person was different...

You shook your head, clearing those thoughts away. No need to contemplate how inexperienced you are in the romantic world, despite what Nesta claims.

Quietly, you crept downstairs, keeping an ear out for anyone who might be awake, teapot in hand. Thankfully, no one was in the kitchen yet, and you were able to prepare a pot of tea with no interruptions. Safely ensconced in your room again, you sipped at the lovely orange and cinnamon tea you had made.

As you stared out at the still-sleeping city, your mind drifted to last night. How Feyre had had no time for you, and Mor hadn't appeared while you had been in the House of Wind. Feyre had been crowded by the citizens of her city, that was understandable... Mor not showing up worried you though, but you were sure there was an explanation. And your other sisters and their mates, well, you hadn't believed they would interact with you anyways.

Azriel had been... Surprising. Caring. Sweet, almost. Him noticing that you had left wasn't something you had even considered, with how close he had been with the pretty redheaded friend of Nesta's. And... You had become accustomed to not having your absence noticed.

Your eyes closed for a moment, a wave of sadness washing over you.

You still felt so alone.

The minutes continued ticking past as you stared blankly out the window, sipping on your tea when you remembered to.

Soon enough, it was fifteen minutes until nine, and you peeled yourself out of the armchair. Boots first, then the short cloak, scarf, and mittens Azriel had given you for Solstice- also the ones that he had draped around you last night in the cold.

You wondered how he had gotten them...

You just barely remembered to grab the cup that Sevenda had lent to you before you snuck out of the River House, into the snowy city.

The walk to Sevenda's was peaceful, quiet. Most citizens of Velaris seemed to still be sleeping, and the blanket of snow on the ground muffled everything. The silence of the normally bustling city matched the feeling in your heart.

Empty. Cold. Quiet.

Sevenda's was warm already, the smell of spices lingering pleasantly in the air when you pushed your way in through the door.

"Ah, Y/N! Lovely to see that you decided to come in," Sevenda's warm voice greeted you from the left, a hand waved in greeting.

"It's nice to see you too, Sevenda. And thank you, again. I really appreciate the offer. I brought back your cup," you added, raising your hand to show it.

"Thank you, dear," Sevenda said, taking said cup from your hands. "Would you like to get started?"

You nodded your head, and let the fae lead you to the back of the restaurant, into the kitchens. It was large, with multiple shiny, silver stoves along the back wall, three matching cold boxes, a wall completely taken up by pots, pans, anything that you would need to cook. There was also counter space galore, with two other fae already working dough in the far corner.

"For today, I'm going to see how you do with prep work, mainly with fruits, vegetables, and meats. If you do well, I'll keep you on full time, if you'd like," Sevenda said, her words sparking a bit of hope in your chest.

Chopping, dicing, cutting. You could do that.

"That sounds perfect, Sevenda. Thank you for giving me this chance."

Sevenda smiled warmly at you, and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Of course, dear. Now... Are you feeling alright?" She asked more quietly, a concerned look in her eyes.

You nodded. Even though you weren't, you didn't want to rehash last night's events. "Yes, thank you." You even shot her a smile that you hoped was at least half-convincing, relieved when she returned the expression. "What should I start with?"

"First, you'll need an apron and to wash your hands," Sevenda said, leading you to the large sink, which conviently had a plethora of aprons hanging on hooks next to it.

You did as she asked, scrubbing your hands under hot water halfway up your forearm, dress sleeves already pushed up to your elbows. You tied a dark blue apron around your neck and waist, and faced Sevenda, who was pulling a cutting board from a cabinet. You noted the location, wanting to be as useful as possible as often as possible.

"I'll start you off by demonstrating how I like everything to be cut, and you'll do the same thing right after. I know it will be a lot to take in, but most of it is fairly simple. Let me know if you have any questions, alright?"

"Alright," you said resolutely, nodding your head.

The hours passed quickly, filled with you absorbing the information that Sevenda was feeding you through her demonstrations, taking in every angle that she used the knife at. You did decently, your cuts a bit clumsier than Sevenda's but still accurate enough. She was kinda, reassuring you that in time, you'd gain confidence and surety in your movements.

It was lovely.

Feeling needed. Feeling useful. You had entirely forgotten how that felt over the last two years, being the extra sister with no magic to help in a way that someone else couldn't.

By the time your shift was finished, Sevenda had pulled you aside to speak with you, anxiety building in your gut even as she smiled warmly at you.

"I'd like to hire you on immediately, full-time if you'd like," Sevenda offered, a twinkle in her eyes. "You've already got the basics down, and you're on track to catch up with my other prep cooks so long as you keep at it with the same enthusiasm you showed today. So... Would you like to have a job?"

A smile- a true, unburdened smile spread over your lips. "I'd love to, Sevenda. Thank you so, so much for this opportunity."

"Thank you for solving my dilemma of hiring a new prep cook, Y/N! Now, do you have an account with the Bank of Velaris already?"

You thought for a moment before answering. "I do... But it's the one that Rhys and Feyre set up for me. Would I be able to make a new account?"

You still felt like such a child, knowing so little about how the city you lived in worked. You had spent so long wishing and longing to leave that you'd hardly taken the time to learn about Velaris. Seeing how you were stuck here, likely permanently... The thought sent a pang of sickness to your stomach. But still, since you were stuck here, you might as well start learning about the city in which you will die.

"I'm sure that could be set up... Would you like any help with it?" Sevenda asked.

"That would be amazing, but you don't have to," you said, hoping that she didn't feel forced to help you, after your breakdown last night.

"Oh, nonsense, I'd love to help you Y/N. We can go in a few minutes, I just have a few more questions for you. Now... Would you like to work five or six days a week?"

That was an easy choice. "Six days would be best, I think." Less time in that house, waiting to be left out of events and dinner conversations.

"Alright, and if you ever want to go down to five days, just let me know and we can work something out. Do you have a specific day that you'd like off?" You shook your head. "Would Mondays be fine with you?"

"Mondays would be just fine," you replied. "Do you..." You paused, rolling the question over in your head. "Do you know of any apartments for rent? You don't have to answer, of course, I just thought I would ask," you said quickly, already regretting the question.

Sevenda merely smiled at you. "I do know of a few close by. Once you have a week or two of pay in your account, we could go look at a few sometime, if you'd like?"

You nodded quickly. "That would be amazing, Sevenda. Did you have any other questions for me?"

Sevenda closed her eyes for a moment before fixing them on you once more. "None that I can think of at the moment, but you'll be back tomorrow in case I forgot anything. Now, let's go get you a personal bank account," she said cheerily, rising from the table you had sat at. You followed her lead, letting her take you to the large, white marble building that had a large matching sign with, presumably, its name written in the large gold lettering on it.

Making an account was easy enough, and within the hour you had a small metal card, magically linked to your bank account in hand, your first day of pay already deposited by Sevenda.

You walked back to her restaurant with her, parting with a brief hug, initiated by Sevenda.

"I'll see you in the morning, Sevenda," you said, the words repeated back to you by the kind, chocolate eyed fae.

And then your legs carried you without thinking, back to the River House. The snow had melted just slightly, and was significantly more trampled than when you had arrived this morning. The sun was nearly set already, casting a pretty orangey-pink glow over the city.

Pretty.

The River House was warm when you entered, and thankfully there was no boisterous laughter coming from the living or dining rooms.

A part of you still longed for someone to ask where you were, what you had been doing all day.

But you knew better by now. And you were proven correct when no one came to greet you, even while you made a small dinner of rice with grilled vegetables. You even ate in the dining room, a rarity for you in the past months, the tiniest part of you hoping that Feyre might come in to talk with you. Or that Mor would show up, and you could spend part of the evening together.

Neither happened, and soon enough you were back in your room, a fresh pot of tea in hand, soothing, calming lavender and chamomile again.

You had enjoyed your day at work, but it had exhausted you. All you wanted at the moment was to fall asleep, but you chose to do something else before crawling into your makeshift bed in the tub tonight.

You would try to read. With your gift from the twins in hand, you pulled the cookbook that Nesta had gifted you, filled with lovely illustrations of soups and stews from all corners of Prythian.

Slowly, you let the magnifying glass read out the title a few times, your brain trying to make sense of the letters on the cover turning into the words you were hearing. It was embarrassing, how long it took you to be able to understand a sentence, even with it being read aloud to you. Heat rushed to your face, even with no one in the room to witness your shortcomings.

You tried reading a recipe, going one word at a time with the glass. That... Sort of worked, though it was slow going. And you felt like the only reason you were mildly successful was that the words were being read aloud to you.

How pathetic.

You sighed heavily before draining your last cup of tea and shutting the recipe book. That was enough of disappointing yourself for the night.

You stripped yourself of the dress you'd donned the morning, changing into a soft, long sleeved white cotton sleep dress that met the skin of your ankles, swishing softly against them with each step.

Sleep came easily to you that night, your body tired from doing so much work when it had grown accustomed to sleeping all day and rarely moving. It was a pleasant kind of tired, though, letting you drift into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning went much the same, with you rising before the sun to bathe and have a soothing pot of tea. Work flew by, with you completely focused on improving your knife skills for the seven hours you were there, determined to not let Sevenda down.

Before you knew it, you'd already worked three days in Sevenda's homey restaurant, settling in comfortably, even with the other fae you now worked with. Josi and Torma were the other two prep cooks, and both of them had been warm and welcoming to you. Sevenda's sous chef, Wren, had been a little less friendly, but you'd noticed that he was like that with everyone except Sevenda. He wasn't rude, or anything, just quieter.

It was on your fourth morning of work, a Saturday, that your routine was interrupted.

Azriel was in the kitchen, patiently watching a pot of oatmeal cook, shadows playing around his wings and over his shoulders, a couple of them breaking away to crawl up to his ears.

"Good morning," you said quietly, going to the cupboard that housed the kettle.

"Good morning, Y/N. You're up early," Azriel remarked in a neutral tone, neither judging nor questioning.

"Mm, thought I'd have a cup of tea before everyone else was buzzing around..." You said, feeling mildly guilty that you hadn't told him the full truth. You set to filling the water and setting it on the burner next to the one Azriel was using, then turned to grab your teapot. "Would you like a cup?" You asked before you could stop yourself and consider the possibility of being rejected, even for a simple cup of tea.

"I would very much, Y/N, thank you. Would you like some oatmeal? I'm afraid I've made too much..." Azriel said softly, a tiny frown on his face as he stared at the pot before him.

A small smile grew on your face at his reaction. "That would be nice, thank you." You pulled two of your teacups out of the cupboard. A few minutes later, the two of you were sat on stools at the kitchen island, a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of tea in front of each of you. The oatmeal was delicious, flavored with cinnamon and brown sugar, which paired well with the apple cinnamon tea you had brewed.

You ate in a comfortable silence, occasionally stifling a giggle when a shadow brushed over you, their cool touch tickling the back of your neck and your ankles. Curious little things...

Soon enough, though, it was time for you to depart from the River House, and return to the one place that you felt wanted in this city. Azriel had finished his breakfast as well, so you grabbed his dishes, ignoring his protests in favor of washing them.

"You don't have to do that, you know."

You rolled your eyes playfully, even though he couldn't see your expression. "I know that, I wanted to." Bowls, cups, silverware were all placed in the dish rack, clean and shiny from the water dripping off of them. Once that was finished, you returned to your room for a brief moment to grab your scarf and hat, and when you returned downstairs Azriel was lingering near the front door.

"Going somewhere?" Azriel asked neutrally, only a bit of curiosity in his tone.

You blinked at him once, twice. Strange, that it would be him who would know that you were employed first. "Yes, I'm going to work," you said plainly, hoping that his neutrality would continue. While you wanted your sisters to know... You wanted them to find out because they paid attention, not because Azriel had.

"Oh? Could I walk you there?" His question caught you off guard- if anything, you had anticipated him asking if Feyre or Rhys knew or had approved of the job. In your surprise, you nodded in agreement, and moments later the two of you were out the door, walking through the fresh layer of snow that had fallen overnight. You noticed a few of his shadows moving in front of you, pushing some of the snow from your path.

Cute.

"How long have you been working?" Azriel asked from your right, following the path you were taking.

"Just a few days, so far," you replied, trying to give the minimum information so you wouldn't bore him... Starting a new job was hardly an accomplishment for a fae of his age.

"Are you liking it?"

You nodded immediately. "I'm loving it already, working with food is probably the most natural choice I could have made." Too many words...

"That's wonderful, Y/N. It's nice to see you smile again," Azriel said softly, drawing your eyes to him. He was wearing a small smile on his lips, one that you realized matched your expression. A light flush spread over your cheeks- was your happiness always so obvious?

"It's nice to feel like smiling again..." You said quietly, more to the air around you than Azriel himself.

Sevenda's was in sight now, and you slowed your pace. While Azriel may just be being nice... He was still being nice to you. And having someone be kind to you was something you craved nearly every second of every day, so you wanted to savor it, even if it was selfish.

"Do..." Azriel paused, as if he was considering his words carefully. "Does Feyre know that you're working? She hasn't mentioned it."

"Uhm... No, I haven't told anyone yet," you admitted.

You saw Azriel nod his head in your peripheral, and you hoped it was one of understanding.

"Do you want them to know?"

You hesitated. "If you're asking if you can tell them... I'd rather you not."

Another nod as you approached the door to Sevenda's, stopping in front of it. "I won't tell them, then. Sevenda's, hmm?" You bobbed your head in confirmation. "That's good, she's a great boss from everything I've heard."

"She's amazing, if I can be honest," you said, gratitude in your voice. And she was. She had been so kind to you, and so helpful.

"I'm glad, Y/N," Azriel said, his voice the warmest that you had ever heard from him. "I'll let you get inside. Have a good shift."

"Thank you, Azriel. Have a good day," you said, waving goodbye to him before entering the warm restaurant, a smile on your face.

Your day passed quickly, filled with the delicious smell of spices and fresh cut vegetables, the sounds of sizzling meats and bubbling stews. This job at Sevenda's was truly a blessing, distracting both your mind and body as you listened to the friendly chatter between your coworkers and focused on what you were doing.

The River House sounded empty when you returned, completely devoid of sound. No running water, or voices in the living room. The entire night, you saw no one, not even Nuala or Cerridwen. You even spent a few minutes sipping tea in the living room - though you left quickly, feeling out of place even while alone - hoping to see Feyre for a moment. You hadn't seen her since Starfall, and... You wanted to see her. You also would have been able to ask her where Mor was, but alas, the question would have to wait.

The next evening, after your final day before having a day off, you saw Feyre for the first time in five days. She was glowing with happiness, both naturally and from the magic you knew she had gotten from... One of the High Lords - you still weren't sure which.

"Y/N! Come, sit with me for a little bit," Feyre said, dragging you onto the couch in the living room with her. You had just barely gotten your boots and scarf off before she met you in the entryway. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"It has been a bit," you agreed, settling in beside her. You glanced around, noting that Nesta and Elain were seated next to each other on the love seat, angry stares trained on you.

At least they weren't glaring yet...?

"So, how have you been?" Feyre asked you, drawing your attention away from your other sisters and back to her.

"I've been fine, Fey. Just..." You debated telling her about your job. That would also mean Nesta and Elain knowing... But... You wanted Feyre to know. "I've been... I've been working."

Nesta scoffed from where she was seated, whispering something to Elain. You frowned. What problem could she possibly have with you having a job?

"Really?" Feyre asked skeptically. "You... Where are you working?"

Her tone, the sheer disbelief in her voice had you regretting ever opening your mouth. Being honest was obviously not a good choice for you anymore. "At Sevenda's restaurant..." You said quietly, met with a dainty snort from Elain. Heat rushed to your face, especially when Feyre frowned at you, as though she didn't believe you.

"Really? That's... That's really nice, Y/N. I'm happy for you," Feyre said with a strained smile. You didn't believe her for a second.

Still... "Thank you, Feyre. What about you? How have you been feeling?"

"Tired," Feyre moaned dramatically, a hand on her forehead. "The little one seems to be draining all of my energy, I've had to start eating double what I normally do just to feel like I can function."

"Maybe you can stop by Sevenda's when Y/N is working," Nesta suggested in a snarky tone, causing Elain to giggle into her hand. "If she even works there... What Sevenda would need with you, I have no idea."

Tears pricked at your eyes, though you fought them. Why were they so mean to you?

Feyre glared at Nesta, but said nothing in your defense.

She probably agreed with Nesta's words.

"I'm sorry that you're feeling so exhausted Feyre. Maybe there's something that could be taken off your plate for a little bit, until you're feeling better?" Another scoff from Nesta.

"I don't think there is, Y/N. It takes a lot to run a court..."

You knew that. Of course you knew that. "Oh... Well, I hope that you feel better soon, then. I'm... I'm going to go take a bath. I'll see you later?"

Feyre nodded. "I'll see you later. At dinner?"

There was no way in hell you would be showing at dinner tonight. "Maybe," you said, standing from your place next to her. You made your way out of the living room, ignoring Nesta and Elain's glares, up the stairs and into your room.

Happy. You had been happy when you returned home. You were proud of the fact that you had gotten a job. And yet the three people that should have cared, should have shared in your happiness and pride? They couldn't care less. They didn't even believe you.

That only served to solidify your choice to leave this cursed house as soon as you could, to continue in your plan to have your own living space. And, of course, it put tears on your cheeks, on the blanket that you curled into as you laid in the bathtub.

🤍🤍💖🤍🤍

In your first three weeks of work, you never saw Mor. You did, however, receive a letter from her on your first day off, read to you by the glass the twins had gifted you. She had apologized profusely for not showing up to Starfall, though she had a good reason. The citizens of the Hewn City had demanded to have a member of the High Lord's Inner Circle stay with them through the celebration, and as the only one already there, that duty had fallen to her. And in the week since, she had been constantly fighting with Keir over the upcoming election that was planned, hardly having a moment to herself.

Which was why the letter had taken so long to be written.

You felt horrible for having thought she had abandoned you, though you knew there was a reason you had jumped to such a conclusion.

Every week since then, Mor had managed to find the time to write you a letter, each one asking about how you had been, informing you of the lastest bullshit her father had put her through. You looked forward to each letter from her, but wished that you could see her in person, or at least write a letter in response. You missed your friend. According to her most recent letter, the one that had arrived two days ago, she would be returning to Velaris for a few days in the next week.

You were excited to see her again, but more than that, you were excited to move into your apartment today.

Sevenda had shown you to two different available apartments last week, and on Monday you had signed your lease. The building was only a couple of blocks away from Sevenda's, and it was a cute little place on the third floor, with a balcony that had a decent view of the mouth of the Sidra and the harbor. You already knew that you would be taking your tea on it once the weather had warmed, the view was too amazing to pass up an opportunity to look over.

The walls inside had already been done in a shade of light pink the day before, the cabinets of the kitchen coated in a pale lavender, a move in gift from your new landlord. It was a small space, that was true. Besides the bathroom and built in closet, the apartment was one large room, with no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, the kitchen from the bedroom.

But you didn't mind.

Because it was yours.

And truly, how much space did you need? There would be enough room to have a small dining table, a loveseat and a couple of armchairs in front of the fireplace - which you had been absolutely delighted to see - and a large bed. You could even put up screens or curtains to partition off your bedroom, if you felt like it.

The possibilities felt endless as you lugged your small amount of belongings over to your new place, bursting at the seams with happiness.

Today, Sevenda had given you the day off so that you could move in, though you had tried to insist that you wouldn't need the whole day. Still, she had made it clear that you deserved the day to settle in and purchase whatever you needed, even going as far to give you a week of advanced pay.

Moving your belongings took you less than an hour, even in the snow, and only three separate trips between the River House and your apartment. The presents you had recieved for your birthday and Solstice, the clothing that you couldn't part with, skincare items, and your hairpin all went with you, but everything else in your old room stayed.

You had decided against informing anyone of your move, choosing instead to quietly remove your things. If they truly cared about you, they would notice your absence soon.

If they didn't... You would deal with that if it came.

By midday, you were shopping in the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, on the hunt for cookware. You already had the wonderful measuring cups and spoons that Nuala and Cerridwen had gifted you, as well as your tea set from Azriel, but you would need a bit more than that to be able to cook at home.

That lead to you entering a lovely little shop, filled to the brim with pots, pans, and cooking utensils in every color of the rainbow.

For now, you only bought one frying pan and one pot with a lid, both in a shade of pink that matched your measuring cups. You also purchased a set of three mixing bowls in the same shade, made of a light but durable clay. A spatula, wooden spoon, whisk, and a set of silverware also came home with you, along with a few cleaning supplies that the store happened to carry, but anything else could wait for now.

You carried your bounty home, arms sagging under the weight of your purchases as you climbed the stairs to your apartment. Everything was put away in a matter of minutes, and you allowed yourself to relax on the floor for a bit, letting your arms flop out to the sides.

You could hardly believe it... A smile crept across your face as you lay on the floor of your own apartment, that you had earned the money for. You had done this for yourself, all on your own.

Once your arms felt less weak and tired, you sat up and looked around the room. It was... Fairly barren. Your pink bedding set and blanket from Mor were in the far right corner of the apartment, the box of your clothing placed next to it. Near the door to the bathroom you had placed your box of toiletries, and in the kitchen you had already stacked your cookbooks and teas on the counter and placed your dishes in the cupboards.

You needed some kind of furniture tonight, if you could manage to find something your weak arms could carry home.

And towels! How had your forgotten about towels? Oh- and food, you would need something at least for tonight.

You let out a breath. Maybe Sevenda was right, that you would need most of the day to get settled. You got up after another moment and put your boots back on, along with your hat and scarf.

A trip to the Palace of Thread and Jewels provided you with the towels you needed, in an assortment of pastel shades and sizes, as well as a fluffy purple bath mat. You even remembered to pick out two fluffy pillows as well, just in case you slept on the floor or in the tub tonight. As you were leaving the Palace, you couldn't help but pick out a soft, sky blue blanket one of the outdoor stalls, the green skinned fae bidding you farewell with a kind smile. You walked home, snow beginning to fall just before you entered the building.

You deposited your bags on the floor to the left of your front door, and set down the stairs immediately after locking up. Before the snow started to accumulate, you wanted to get a chair or something so that you would have a place to sleep for the night. If you couldn't find anything... Well, the bathtub looked to be the same size as the one in the River House.

When you had been out earlier, you thought you had spotted a second hand store, filled with mismatched furniture. You retraced your steps, and found it to be in the middle of the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

Inside, it was cluttered, with small paths leading through the building. It was near the back of the store that you found something you might like- a tall backed, wooden chair with a pink velvet cushion and backing, the legs of the chair curved and elegant.

Why would someone ever part ways with this?

You continued to the back of the store, finding a pale, short fae male sitting behind a counter, reading a book.

"Hi, I'd, uhm... I'd like to buy a chair that you have?" You asked shyly.

"Which one?" He asked, without looking up from his book.

"The uh. The wooden chair with pink velvet on it."

"Fifty gold marks," the male said shortly, a hand extending to take your bank card and press it to his ledger, all while continuing to read. He handed it back a moment later. "Have a good day, miss."

"Thank you," you said quietly before leaving the counter, going to collect the chair into your arms.

The walk home was slow going, the chair decidedly too big for you to comfortably carry for more than a few steps at a time. But still, you made it, dragging the piece of furniture up the stairs and through your door. You managed to lug it in front of the fireplace, settling into it for a moment.

You almost decided to skip getting ingredients for dinner... But your stomach rumbled in protest, at the thought of continuing to neglect your health in favor of avoiding discomfort. So instead, you pulled yourself from your new chair, then went back down the stairs and into the snowy city one last time today.

The Palace of Hoof and Leaf was a bit further than the Palace of Bone and Salt, but you knew where to find what you were planning to cook for dinner. It was easy enough to find rice, chicken, zucchini, broccoli, and a small set of spices, a large enough selection to satisfy you for at least your first month. Snow had begun to fall heavily while you had been in and out of shops, already covering the tracks that had been on the bridge when you had crossed it earlier, and when you finally made it up the stairs and through your front door, you were feeling tired.

Tired enough that for the moment, you placed the chicken in your cold box then walked over your chair, and plopped down.

You would consider today a success, even with how tired you now were. After all, you were tired in your chair, in your apartment.

🤍🤍💙🤍🤍

Two days after you moved, you had an unexpected knock on your door, just a few minutes after you returned home from work.

Perhaps it was finally Feyre, realizing that you had moved.

You were proven wrong when you opened the door, however, to see Azriel standing before you, a cloth bag filled to the brim with little jars.

"I- Hello," you said, surprised at him being here, even if he had taken to walking you to work on the mornings he was in town. "Can I- Can I help you?"

"I just returned from Illyria, only to find one of my shadows to be very frantic over the sudden emptiness of your room," Azriel said, though there was no accusation in his tone. "And after I spoke with Sevenda, she... She directed me here. I hope that's alright?"

You were even more surprised by the efforts he had gone to to find you, than his presence at this point. "That's fine, Azriel. Was there a reason you wanted to see me?"

"I... Yes," Azriel said, somewhat shyly, and you swore that you almost saw a flush covering his cheeks. "You never did tell me which teas you enjoyed, so I brought you a jar of each. I thought you might like to have a bit more, now that you're living on your own."

That was... Incredibly sweet of him to do. You were running low on your tea stash at the moment, and knowing that he'd thought of you...

Don't get any feelings, or hints of feelings, you reminded yourself. Humans and fae don't belong together, no matter how kind and attractive they are.

"Thank you, Azriel," you said, stepping aside to let him through the doorway. It was only polite, after all, to let him in. "I'll take those," you said as you grabbed the bag from his hand, moving into the kitchen to take arrange the little jars on your counter.

"You don't have a bed," Azriel observed from behind you, a hand on your chair, where your blankets were still piled.

"Oh, I'm uhm... I'm still working on that," you said sheepishly, abandoning your task of organizing the jars. Your eyes darted over everything, looking for anything else he could find issue with.

"Let's go solve that, then."

"I- What?" You asked, thoroughly confused. He was offering to go shopping with you...?

"We can go find you a bed today, Y/N. You need something to sleep on, and while a chair is fine for a little bit, it really would be best for you to have a bed," Azriel said simply. You were still staring at him in shock, so he sighed lightly and said, "Think of it as a housewarming gift, Y/N. You can pick out whatever you want, and my shadows will bring it here for you."

"I- But... Why?" You managed to get out, even as you mentally kicked yourself for being so awkward.

Azriel's mouth turned up in the corners at your reaction. "You need a bed, and I'd like to know that you're sleeping comfortably."

"But... Why?" You repeated, still confused.

Azriel sighed and shook his head. "You're my friend, Y/N, I like to know that my friends are well taken care of. And that starts with a good night's sleep, which starts with a bed," he explained as he walked over to your closet, pulling out the scarf and hat that he had gifted you. He wrapped the scarf around your neck and put the hat on your head, lips turning up more as you stood there and let him. "Now get your boots on, unless you really don't want to go."

Your eyes narrowed playfully at him, but you did as he said, slipping your boots on and lacing them up. "Alright... Thank you, Azriel."

His lips turned up into a full smile this time, a beautiful sight on his face. "You're welcome, Y/N. Now, let's get going before it gets too dark."

You let him lead you across the Sidra, to a shop in the Palace of Flame and Steel that specialized in wooden furniture.

"Pick out whichever one you like most," Azriel had told you, with a pointed look telling you that he would know if you tried to pick the least expensive option.

He watched as you went from bed to bed, mattress to mattress trying to find the right combination. You had been in the store for nearly an hour by the time you made your choice, settling on a walnut frame. It had a nice headboard, with little creatures carved into the posts on both sides, a feature that was continued at the corners of the end of the bed. Some of them looked like little cats, a pet that you had always wanted to have but never could afford in the human lands, and when you had been able to, your family had firmly shut the idea down.

For the mattress, you had laid on one that felt like a cloud, supporting your body in a way that you had never experienced. Perhaps... Perhaps Azriel was right, after all.

You felt dreadful, though, as he paid for your new furniture, even as he reassured you that it was a housewarming present and he was more than fine paying double the amount if he had needed to.

He walked you back to your apartment, and, as promised, your new bed was already set up along the back wall, looking extremely inviting even without bedding on it.

"You should let me repay you," you insisted to Azriel, a hand on his forearm stopping him from leaving. "I can't... This is too much," you said.

Azriel's eyes shined with understanding as he read the guilt in your own. "It's okay, you know. To be given things, without the need to reciprocate. But... If you still feel that you need to repay me, I suppose you could make me dinner some time," Azriel suggested.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Are you sure I can't pay you back?"

He shook his head. "The only payment I will accept is in the form of food, Y/N. Again, this is a housewarming present, it is a gift that I am giving to you of my own free will. I am, however, partial to your cooking, which is why I would accept that as payment."

You sighed, but nodded your head. You would pay him back with food, as often as he liked. "What days are you in the city?"

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

It took two more days before Mor was in town, which you found out about two hours into your shift when she burst into Sevenda's, speaking loudly enough that you could hear her in the kitchen.

A moment later Sevenda appeared, your blonde friend in tow.

"Y/N!" Mor exclaimed, pulling you into a hug once you had set down your knife. "Oh, girl, I have missed you so much!"

You squeezed her back tightly, overjoyed to see her again. "I've missed you too, Mor!"

Mor pulled away a moment later, her face serious. "Where are all of your things? I went up to your room in the River House to see you, and none of your stuff is there! Feyre had no idea either..."

A flush spread over your cheeks. "Oh, uhm... I moved out?" You said hesitantly.

Mor blinked at you a few times before a smile slid over her face. "You... Moved out?" She giggled. "And you didn't tell anyone? Was it this morning?"

You shook your head. "No, it was on Wednesday," you admitted softly, turning your gaze to the floor.

"And Feyre didn't... Oh, sweets," Mor cooed, pulling you into another hug and stroking your hair. You pushed her away after a moment, face bright red at being comforted in front of your coworkers.

"It's okay, Mor, really. I've already accepted that they don't notice me," you said, hoping that you had successfully hidden your pain. You may have accepted that your sisters pay you no attention, but it didn't mean your heart didn't hurt.

Mor frowned at you, but accepted your answer for the time being. "Well, when are you off work? I can stop by again, and you can show me your apartment!"

"I'm normally off right around five, you could come back then."

"Sounds like a plan, sweets!" Mor said brightly before leaving the kitchen, waving at you before being shooed out by Sevenda.

You quickly got back to work, determined to make the day pass by quickly.

And it did. The next five hours went by fast, filling you with a feeling of accomplishment as you finished everything Sevenda had asked you to do a few minutes faster than usual. Something as simple as that made your day so much brighter, easier to fight away the feeling of loneliness that followed you most hours of the day.

Mor met you outside as she'd said she would, a shining ray of sunlight even as the sun had begun to set.

"So- I leave town for a few weeks, not that I wanted to," Mor grumbled as you linked arms with her and began to lead her to your apartment. "And when I come back, you've already had a job for three weeks and you've moved into your own apartment? I am so proud of you Y/N."

You blushed at her words, but still allowed yourself to soak them in. "Thank you, Mor. I'm glad that you're okay with it."

Mor frowned. "Why wouldn't I be okay with it? I think it's amazing that you decided to move out, everyone deserves their independence."

You nodded, but your thoughts were on your sisters... What they surely thought of you, leaving without a word... "It's just... I don't know. My sisters... Weren't very supportive of me even having a job, let alone having my own apartment."

"Oh, hon, don't worry about them. I think they're just jealous of you having your own life outside of our little circle. Now, Nesta and Elain... They could certainly use a talking to," Mor hissed. "And Feyre isn't much better, letting them get away with their behavior."

You shook your head. What would they have to be jealous of? Being lonely? Having at most three friends, if you were being generous with the term? "It's fine, Mor, really. I've stopped expecting them to act any certain way, it's just... Easier."

Mor sighed next to you. "I suppose so... Anyways, tell me what's been going on!" Mor said cheerily, sensing your hesitancy to speak about your sisters.

"Well... Not much, beyond the moving out and getting a job. Although..." You thought about Azriel, how you now considered him a friend- and he thought the same of you. "Azriel has been very nice, he brought me some tea blends when he found out I moved. And helped me find a bed."

"Oh, I'm sure he did," Mor said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You smacked her arm lightly and shot her as much of a glare as you could muster.

"Not like that Mor!" You exclaimed, blood rushing to your cheeks at her insinuation. "He helped me go to a store and his shadows brought it back to my apartment."

"Oooh," Mor laughed. "Okay, I misunderstood, Y/N. I'm glad that he's been a good friend to you while I've been away."

"I am too, Mor," you said softly, a hint of a smile on your lips.

You unlocked the front door of your building, letting Mor pass through the doorway before you, then led her up the stairs.

"Three flights? I must be spoiled, only having a flight to go up one at my place," Mor said by the time you reached the top, your fingers fumbling for the correct key.

"It's not all that bad, Mor," you giggled as you swung the door open, letting her go in first, and closing the door softly behind you.

"Oh, Y/N! This apartment is so you!" Mor said brightly as she looked around. "The bed looks amazing." She flopped down on it, sighing happily after she did. "You chose good, sweets."

"Thank you," you giggled, plopping down next to her. "I'm so glad the owner was willing to paint, it saved me from trying to do it myself."

"And it looks lovely too, and as I said, very you. So," Mor started, a hand flung onto your thigh. "I thought, if you have a day off while I'm in town, we could do a sleepover again! Either here or at my apartment, whichever you'd prefer."

"That sounds lovely Mor. If you're still here tomorrow, and you don't have plans tonight, I have tomorrow off," you offered.

"That's perfect! I'll go get a change of clothes and pick up some food on my way back, if that works for you, Y/N."

You nodded. "That sounds like a plan to me, Mor. I'll see you in a little bit?" The two of you stood from your bed, Mor's hair the tiniest bit rumpled from being squished against your mattress.

"Yep! Any preferences on food?"

You shook your head. "Anything is fine by me Mor, get whatever you've been missing while in the Hewn City."

Mor's face scrunched up at the mention of the Hewn City. "Don't remind me," she groaned. "I think I'll get some kind of pasta. Pasta sounds perfect for a sleepover."

"That sounds good to me. Walk safely, Mor, it's been slick out at this time recently," you warned, smiling when Mor winked at you playfully.

"I'm always careful, sweets. See you in a bit!"

You shut the door behind her, a smile on your face. You hadn't realized just how much you had missed your friend until you saw her again.

Not wanting to waste your alone time, though, you pulled yourself into the bath, determined to finish before Mor returned. While you didn't feel disgusting, you felt a bit dirty from work still, and if you're spending the night with Mor you'd like to smell decent.

Still, you let yourself relax in the steaming water for a few minutes, bubbles coating the water's surface. Your lungs expanded and collapsed rhythmically, lulling your heart into a state of peace.

Maybe... Maybe you could belong in Velaris.

Maybe it was your sisters that you didn't belong with, any more.

But with Mor? With Azriel? At work? You felt like you had begun to carve out a tiny little place for you to exist peacefully, if not happily.

A deep sigh left you.

You wished... You wished you could belong with your sisters once more. Your heart longed to see them, to share your joy with them. But... They never seemed to share in it with you.

So, you would settle for carving out a space for yourself.

No, it's not settling, you told yourself as you began to scrub at your body with a cloth. It's choosing to live, not to merely exist.

You may not know what you want out of life, but you're willing to find out now.

You willing to try your hand at living once more.

🤍🤍💝🤍🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao

The Afterthought Taglist: @darkbloodsly @angelbunny222 @uniquedreamsblog @romantasyreader28 @that-one-bibliophole @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @deathtopistachios @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @babypeapoddd @kingshitonly @bravo-delta-eccho @bluebries81 @liahaslosthermind @deepestmentalitypersona @historygeekqueen @hermajestysworld @marina468 @esposamultifandom @astrokitty18 @larissa01-blog2 @acourtofbatboydreams @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @thelov3lybookworm @weekendlusting @dxjaaaa @thejediprincess56 @casiiopea2 @butterfix @sirenpearldust @marrass @satiresunflower @mae-foster @boo-shalala @optimisticbabydreamer @sttvrdustt @bunnybella186

#the afterthought #a place in this world #acotar x reader #archeron!reader #acotar x archeron!reader #acotar x reader angst #angst #fluff #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #toxic inner circle #tato writes

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smartkookiee · 6 months ago

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How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.2 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff (tooth rot worthy), yay first date woohooooo, Jungkook having an immense knowledge about fish(like a nerd), rom com clichés left and right, cute Jungkook, early 2000’s rom com vibes??, kissing, drinking (if you squint), ❥word-count: 8.6k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter ❥Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

“I can’t believe you’re going out with him tomorrow.” Ronnie bumped her hip against yours as she sat down on your couch next to you, “And on a Sunday.”

It was the night after. Ronnie invited herself over to your place rather than planning to hang out, but it worked out because Jungkook took a quick step forward. he sent you a nice good morning text and asked if you were available tomorrow to go out. You had tried–really tried–to come up with any possible excuse to put off the date but alas fell short. So you agreed, you thought sooner this got started the sooner you could be done with it.

“Well we have to start somewhere.” Which wasn’t a lie, even so, Jungkook’s text was a surprise. “I actually didn’t expect him to act so soon.”

Ronnie laughed, clearly amused, “What are you guys going to do? Dinner? Dancing? Skydiving?”

“I don’t know.” You slumped back further into the cushions. “He said he was planning something. I made a jab about him not being a serious guy, and now he’s all, I’ll show you how serious I can be.”

“How serious he can be ? It’s a first date not a proposal.”

“We’ll see, I guess. Honestly, I have no idea how to go about this. I’m supposed to date him, but then, you know... gradually become annoying or crazy.” You gestured vaguely, not even sure what annoying or crazy would look like yet.

“I know just who can help with that.” Ronnie patted you on the knee and then immediately started typing frantically on her phone.

“Oh no.” You knew immediately what she was doing.

Twenty minutes later, a myriad of knocks came from your front door. Opening your door, and in walked Jin with a flourish, his signature grin plastered across his face. In one hand, he held a bottle of wine, and in the other, a notepad that looked suspiciously like it had been used for devious plans before. He paused dramatically in the doorway, like a game show host about to reveal a grand prize.

“I’ve been summoned.” Jin declared, his voice as grand as his entrance.

An already exhausted sigh leaves you, “Oh hi. So good to see you, come on in.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. You let your door close and you make your way back onto the couch next to Ronnie. Settling in for whatever Jin clearly had prepared

Jin had placed himself in the front of your living tiny living room, like he had prepared a full presentation just for this occasion. “I was told my assistance was needed so I am here to grant it.” He did a small bow before the two of you and you roll your eyes.

“Here we go.” You tease but Jin looked a little offended.

“You,” He hits your leg with his note pad, and your mouth falls open at the gesture. “My dear, have a tendency to stray from the goal. You’re going on a date with this guy–”

“You told him?” You gave a side eye to Ronnie, you were of course going to tell Jin but probably but maybe not till after the date had concluded. He had a tendency to meddle.

Innocently, Ronnie shrugged. “You need a strong team to help you, who better than Jin to have around.”

“Exactly.” Jin perked up and you decided to surrender and listen. “As your coach I am going to make sure we you to the end game…” He gestures to you like he is expecting and answer to the end of his sentence.

“To lose the guy in 30 days.”

“Correct !” Jin pulls a pen seemingly out of nowhere, Marking something down on his notepad. “One point for you.”

“Wait, we are getting points?” Ronnie perked up, her clear competitive side showing through.

“Indeed!” Jin confirmed with a grin, enjoying the theatrics. “Anyways—”

“Hold on.” You cut him off, curiosity getting the better of you. “What do we get if we win?”

Jin paused, clearly not expecting this twist. He groaned, tapping his pen against his chin, deep in thought. After a moment, he dramatically sighed. “Fine. I’ll buy your dinner next time we go out.”

“Deal.” You and Ronnie said in unison, sharing a knowing look. Giving each other a sportsmanlike handshake.

Jin waits for a moment like he is a teacher in class, “May I begin?” You and Ronnie both nod and settle back into the couch. “Firstly we need to go over your big rules for this.”

“Rules?”

“Important things to remember!” Jin cleared his throat. With a quick flip of his notepad, he glanced down, all business now. “Rule number one—”

“You made rules already?” You interrupt him again.

He cut you off with a finger to his lips, “Number one. We will not be falling in love with Jungkook .”

“I’m not going to fall in love with him. I don’t even know him!” You sit up with some protest.

Jin narrowed his eyes, his glare accusing. “You have a tendency to fall a little too easily for wit and charm! Remember, Jungkook is a serial fuck boy!” Jin paused for effect and turns around his notepad and underlines the note he has that says, in all caps: SERIAL FUCKBOY. Followed by other rules and scribbles along the rest of the page.

Ronnie let’s out a little laugh and you resign yourself back, “Okay fair point.”

“What’s the first rule?” Jin repeats pointing his pen back at you.

“We will not fall in love with Jungkook!” Ronnie raises her hand but blurts it out and you just huff a little. Although this rule was fair, you knew it but it didn’t feel great to be called out on it.

“Point to Ronnie. Rule number two.” Jin waves his pen around in the air like its a wand, “Be annoying at any given opportunity but not too annoying. So sending too many texts, memes, calling him at inappropriate times.”

“Or calling one too many times!” Ronnie added on to the end of his statement.

“Half point for adding an idea.” Jin scribbled on his pad for a moment.

You scratched the side of your head, feeling a twinge of discomfort. “Okay, this one might actually be hard.”

Jin arched a brow. “Why?”

You shifted a little, pulling your knees up onto the couch. “I don't like to... overbear myself. I usually let people have their space, give them time... It’s just not who I am.”

Jin clicked his tongue, wiggling his finger at you like a disappointed parent. “This is why you need to fight your people-pleasing instincts! A delicate task, but one you must master.”

You sighed, already feeling anxiety welling in your chest from the internal battle in your mind. “I know, I know. I’ll try.”

“Good girl.” Jin praised, patting your head dramatically. “If it’s too hard, just let one of us take over. We’ve got no skin in the game, so we can be as obnoxious as we want.” He gestured to himself and then Ronnie, who had an evil expression across her face.

“I’ll take any opportunity to torture a man.” Ronnie wiggled her eyebrows at you, and nudged her with your shoulder.

Jin clapped his hands together, refocusing the energy in the room. “Now, what’s rule number two?”

“Be annoying at any given opportunity.” You sigh and repeat it back to him.

“Point to Y/N.” Jin marked down on his notepad again, “Rule number three. This is not going to be a serious relationship. Period.”

“This is a rule?”

“More like a reminder.” Jin looked a little more serious, “You have a tendency to fall into the I can fix him trap. That is not the case here, this guy does not want anything long term. So you have to avoid your natural attachment instincts.”

“As well as your situation will be starting on false pretenses.” Ronnie pointed out, which was true. All of this was starting on a lie. An experiment.

“Okay that’s fair.”

Funny enough though, this is the most detached you had ever felt going into a first date. Other first dates you had been really nervous or really excited and you were thinking through every word and every touch a little too deeply. This time felt totally laid back and different. Like it might be easy and you could keep yourself from falling into your usual habits.

“Rule number three?” Jin waved, waiting for the answer.

Both you and Ronnie repeated at the same time, “This is not going to become a serious relationship.”

“Point to you both.”

The game continued for a while, with Jin rattling off a mixture of absurd, funny, and surprisingly thoughtful rules. Some had you rolling your eyes, others made you laugh. There was something about the way Jin played this out—keeping you focused on the goal without letting the seriousness of it weigh you down.

In the back of your mind, you realized what he was doing. Jin was good at that, pulling you out of your overthinking spiral and making everything feel lighter. It wasn’t about figuring out all the answers now—it was just a date. All the complicated stuff? You could deal with that later. He had this way of turning every dilemma into something manageable, even fun.

Jungkook wasn’t some life-altering mystery; he was just a random guy. By the end of this, it would be nothing but a funny story. One of those "remember when" tales you'd laugh about in the future. Difficult? Maybe. But funny? Definitely.

However much you were planning a sabotage, Jungkook was trying to plan the greatest first date ever. Except it wasn’t going quite as planned. Jungkook had not been on a real first date in years. What did people do on first dates anymore?

“Fun things to do on first dates… reddit.” Jungkook muttered to himself, typing on his phone.. Hoseok didn’t quite hear what Jungkook was mumbling and looked over his shoulder to see what he was searching for.

“Don’t tell me you are consulting reddit for date ideas.” He chuckled but stopped when he realized how serious Jungkook looked. “Dude, come on. Since when do you care this much about a first date?”

Jungkook groaned, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t remember the last time I was on a real one, Hobi. It’s been... a while. Every 'date'I’ve been on, we both knew what it was about. No expectations.” He frowned at his phone, closing the tab in frustration. “I don’t want it to be lame.”

“If I didn’t know you better I would think you cared or something.” Hoseok pinched Jungkook’s cheek with some exaggerated affection, but Jungkook pushed him away.

“Well that’s the thing. We have to be able to talk and get to know each other. Which I suck at.” To Hoseok, Jungkook actually looked to be concerned and it seemed important. Hoseok would almost believe Jungkook wanted to prove a bigger point by winning this bet against Jimin and Taehyung.

“And usually you spend your time what… not really talking?” Hoseok thought but felt stupid for even questioning it. “Right. I forgot who I was talking too.”

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, okay, I get it. I don’t exactly… excel in the conversation department.”

“Excel in other things apparently.” Hoseok laughed and Jungkook rubbed his face out of frustration.

“Well now I need to change my ways.” Jungkook groaned a little before thinking, “You know, a really good friend would help me in my time of need.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Hoseok looked straight ahead, trying to ignore the pleading. “No way. I’m not getting sucked into that ridiculous group bet you guys cooked up. I have standards, you know.” Hoseok held his ground, knowing he will fold if he saw Jungkook’s pathetic face. Jungkook was giving him that sad little pouty face anyways.

“Please Hobi. I’ll owe you big time.” Jungkook whined and shook Hoseok by the shoulders. "Plus you are great on first dates.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You always have these great date stories. You’re really good at this stuff.” Jungkook settled back and let Hoseok go.

Hoseok sighed and gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re not as hopeless as you think, you know. You’re just out of practice.”

Jungkook instantly perked up. “I knew you couldn’t resist helping me.”

“Yeah yeah whatever, but this is the last time I will help you with any of this.” Hoseok gave a warning finger to Jungkook, “I’m only doing this for this poor girl.”

“Deal.” Jungkook nodded quickly, ready to move on, but Hoseok wasn’t done.

“Be honest with me though.” Hoseok’s tone was even more serious now and Jungkook gave his full attention, “Are you going to tell this girl the truth when this is all over? It’s messed up if you’re just dating her to win the money and then dump her.”

Jungkook froze for a second. The thought hadn’t fully crossed his mind in detail before now, which in itself, was a red flag. He had been so focused on the logistics of the bet and the potential payoff that he hadn’t considered the real impact on you. A real person with real feelings, which was fucked up that he hadn't thought about that first. Which, made him kind of a huge dick by default.

“Yeah. I’ll tell her the truth. I’ll be completely honest once it’s all over. And then… she can decide what she wants to do.” “Okay… just feels really shitty. If you are only dating her for the money.” Hoseok pointed out, not fully convinced by Jungkook’s statement.

Jungkook bit his lip. Hoseok had a point, and now that it was out in the open, it ate at him. The bet really felt harmless in nature. A chance to see if Jungkook was even built for dating anymore. The money was a nice bonus, sure, and getting to date an attractive woman didn’t hurt either. But now, he was starting to see the faults in all of this.

It had been… longer than he liked to admit since he’d dated someone seriously. Even longer since he’d genuinely liked someone. He didn’t want this to turn into some shallow game where feelings got stomped on in the process.

“I promise I am going to give this a real shot. Beyond the money. I will be as real as I can be.” Jungkook was sure and confident in his answer. Even if he wasn’t so confident in how he was feeling about dating again.

Hoseok studied Jungkook for a moment, but found he was satisfied with the answer. “Who knows maybe this will turn out really good for you. If you take it seriously, maybe this could be something really great.”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 1

Leaving the train station, all the nerves you thought you didn’t have about all of this rushed through you. Your heart thudded in your chest as you made your way up unfamiliar streets. You checked in with Jungkook this morning about the plan and he had sent you and the address to what looked to be a cafe. That’s what you’d seen when you pulled it up on Maps, and yet, it felt like more than just a casual coffee date. A sense of unease tugged at you.

You had tried subtly fishing for details earlier, asking what you should wear, but he only responded vaguely with a simple ‘dress nice’. No clues. Just…nice. So, you were left to mull over your wardrobe, trying not to overthink it, but of course that did not work.

Yesterday, you had convinced yourself this would be no big deal , but now? It felt like you were walking yourself into a trap you laid yourself. Yes this was for work but you couldn’t help but feel so strange with all of it. You had to keep reminding yourself, this was all business. This is for your professional career.

It was the only thing that kept you grounded, instead of daydreaming.

When you rounded the final corner and spotted the café, your stomach did a sharp flip. There he was, Jungkook. Standing by the door, leaning ever so casually against the wall. He looked different, so different that for a second, you almost didn’t realize it was him. He wasn’t the guy you’d run into casually at the bar anymore. No, he looked polished. Adult.

He wore a pair of well-tailored black slacks that hugged his hips, and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, showing off his tattoos in a way that made your heart skip. You didn’t really see his tattoos at the bar so now you had a chance to actually see them.

Two buttons were left undone at the top, and you caught a glimpse of a silver chain against his skin. His dark hair, usually so relaxed, was flipped out at the ends, styled deliberately but effortlessly. He had on sunglasses, so you couldn’t quite read his expression.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

Because this Jungkook and the Jungkook at the bar were suddenly two completely different people. Jungkook at the bar was a guy you could easily mess with… this Jungkook… was exactly your type.

Shit.

You pull out your phone and send a frantic text.

:ABORT!

Ronnie: The date hasn’t even started!

Ronnie: YOU CAN DO THIS!

:I can’t. He cleaned up. You were right I can’t do this.

Ronnie: NO

Ronnie: REMEMBER YOUR RULES

This is not a serious relationship. You will not fall in love with Jungkook. He is a serial fuck boy.

You could hear Jin’s words clearly in your mind. So clearly in fact, but another part of your mind and heart were speaking a little louder. That little part of you that liked that he put some thought into how he dressed for this. He actually took careful consideration into how he should present himself for you. It made that little pink heart of yours flutter with excitement.

Snap out of it. He’s just a guy.

You shake your head, and ground yourself. You are a writer. You are doing this in the name of research and science. You can do this. This is just a date. A date.

You force one foot in front of you, walking over to him, “Jungkook.” Flashing your best smile and give a small wave, the one you hope masks the unease swirling in your stomach.

Jungkook’s eyes snap up to meet yours, and his entire face lights up with a warm, easy grin that disarms you for a moment. He pushes a hand through his hair, letting the dark strands fall effortlessly back into place.

Jungkook found himself a little disarmed as well. He had gotten a lot of tips from Hoseok the night before about how he should act and carry himself if he wanted to do this right… but he didn’t expect you to look so cute. You’re dressed in something simple—casual but still pretty. Your smile was so warm and inviting he immediately felt that desire to pull any of his usual lines, but he fought that urge.

This is not a hookup, this is a real date.

“I’ve gotta hand it to you,” Jungkook says, his tone teasing. “I thought for sure you’d ditch me.”

You force a laugh, though it’s a little shaky, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your nerves are still very much present. “Had to see for myself if you could actually step up.”

He chuckles and steps back, spreading his arms out to his sides as if presenting himself for inspection. His confidence is palpable, and it makes it worse? Better? No, definitely worse. “Told you I could take this seriously.”

And he had. Hoseok actually decided Jungkook should go for dressy but simple. Simpler the better. Means you are seeing him and not a façade. Hoseok had warned him to not carry himself too high because it could come off as arrogant. So he retreated from his normal confident stance, trying to pull his natural instinct back a bit. Why was this so hard?

“That’s for me to judge.” You say, lifting your chin and tilting your head at him playfully. “Date’s barely begun.”

“Well,” Jungkook held the cafe door open for you, “I thought a quick coffee and a short train ride wouldn’t hurt to start.”

“Do I get to know where we are going now?”

“Now why ruin the magic?” Jungkook's tone is a little more flirtatious now. You couldn’t help it when it makes you blush, but you try to shake it off.

The two of you grabbed your drinks to-go and quickly left the café, heading toward the train station. The conversation so far had been light—small pleasantries exchanged, but nothing too deep. It felt like you were both easing into the moment, cautiously testing the waters. Jungkook, however, was doing a surprisingly good job of keeping things moving, keeping the energy up. He seemed determined to make sure this date went well, as if he had something to prove—not just to you, but maybe even to himself.

The city blurred past the windows, concrete and steel flashing by, though your mind wasn’t really on the view. The train rumbled beneath your feet, the soft hum of people chattering fading into the background. You were acutely aware of Jungkook standing so close, his presence hard to ignore.

“So here we are.” Jungkook said with a small smirk, leaning in just enough to catch your eye.

“Here we are.” You echoed, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I know we’ve got to do the usual first-date dance.” He continued, taking a casual sip of his drink. “So feel free to ask me whatever you want.”

“Anything?” You muse, sensing an opportunity for fun.

“Anything at all,” Jungkook replied, mirroring your playful tone. “I’m a completely open book.”

You paused for a beat, keeping the moment light. “Alright, let’s start simple. Job?”

“Engineer.” He replied confidently. “You?”

“Writer.” Your response was met with a raised brow from him.

“Very interesting.” Jungkook remarked, almost like he hadn’t expected that answer.

You tilted your head slightly. “How so?”

“I just don’t meet many writers. Journalist?”

“Correct.” You nod, impressed with his deduction. “Okay, your turn. Hobbies?”

Jungkook's eyes brightened at the question, and he leaned in a little closer, his hand still gripping the pole above. “Photography.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? What kind of work do you do?”

“Street photography.” He shot you a grin, clearly pleased. He didn’t get to talk about his photography very much these days. “Mostly just day to day things. People living their lives or things that I find pretty. I like how raw it feels.”

He didn’t think he would be sharing this but Hoseok did say he should be less afraid to share the more vulnerable sides of his personality.

“That’s... actually really cool.” You admitted, genuinely impressed. It was clear this hobby wasn’t just for show. It was something he cared about. “Do you ever share your work?”

He looked down for a moment, a shy laugh escaping him. “Not really. I mean, I’ve shown a few to close friends, but it’s more for me. A way to... I don’t know, relax, I guess. Focus.”

You hadn’t realized it but you had become so laser focused on him now. You shook your head and had to remind yourself to come back to reality. Remember, he’s only saying these things to impress you; it’s not real.

Jungkook continued, “What about you?”

“Painting. It’s a new hobby so I’m really terrible.” You laugh thinking about your really sad first attempt at watercolor sitting on your coffee table at home. You had tried to just do a simple flower but it definitely looks like a little creature instead.

“Anything I could see?”

“God no.” You laugh a little too loud and embarrassed, “Trust me they are terrible.” You pause for a second and think, “Okay, how about your favorite food?”

“Easy. Fried chicken.” His answer was quick, like it was non-negotiable. “Yours?”

“Pasta. Any kind, really.”

“Oh I make a really good carbonara.” He threw the comment out there seeing if you would bite.

“Is this your invitation for a second date?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“We’ll have to find out.”

You brush past his comment, “What’s the last movie you watched?”

“Interstellar. ”

You raised an eyebrow. “Not bad. So you’re into space stuff?”

“Who isn’t?” Jungkook's expression softened, eyes glinting with a bit of excitement. “You?”

“10 things I hate about you. ”

“Romance fan?”

“I’m a sucker for a good love story.” You shrug.

Jungkook laughed, glancing around the train as if to make sure no one else was eavesdropping on your banter. “Alright, one more from me: What’s something people don’t know about you?”

You leaned back in your seat, tapping your chin like you were really pondering it. “I’m embarrassingly bad at bowling.”

Jungkook laughed again, his grin wide and easy. “Awe so you’re saying our second date should be bowling?”

“Only if you’re okay with watching me throw gutter balls all night.” You teased.

“I’ll just have to teach you.” Jungkook quipped, his flirtation bubbling back to the surface. The playful tension between you building.

Jungkook was surprised at himself, because he was actually good at this. Keeping things light, fun, yet somehow engaging enough to make you feel at ease. The back-and-forth flowed effortlessly, and before you knew it, the train slowed for your stop.

“So how am I doing so far?” Jungkook asked, as you both hopped off the train.

You took a slow sip of your coffee, drawing out the silence to keep him in suspense. Humming, you finally raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, the coffee’s good, so points there.” You mused, “But the scenery? It's left a lot to be desired.” You joke, gesturing subtly to the less-than-charming view from the train window.

“Well our next location will have a much better view I promise.” Jungkook assured, chewing on his lip.

Before long, the two of you arrived at your destination—the aquarium. To your surprise, despite the cliché of an aquarium being a typical first-date spot, there was something about it that immediately felt special. Jungkook had already secured the passes online, casually pulling them up on his phone as you neared the entrance. His relaxed demeanor seemed to contrast with your initial nerves, but seeing him here, comfortable in a place like this was calming in itself.

“I’ve never been here, actually.” You observed, taking in the murals that adorned the entrance. Sea creatures, some extinct and some from modern day stretched up toward the high ceilings. It was both beautiful and intriguing, the imagery setting the tone for what lay inside.

Jungkook followed your gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips as he leaned a little closer. “Well, you’re in good hands. You’re with the foremost aquarium expert in the city.” He said with a playful glint in his eyes. “I’ve been coming here since I was a kid, so I can probably tell you more about the fish than the staff can.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his confidence. “Oh? A fish expert, huh? I’m expecting a seriously educated tour then. I want to walk away knowing everything about aquatic life.”

Jungkook chuckled, his grin widening. “Trust me, by the time we leave, you’ll be able to name at least three species of jellyfish without googling it.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “That’s quite the promise.”

Jungkook then guided you inside, the cool, dimly lit interior of the aquarium enveloped the both of you, contrasting sharply with the bright, bustling world outside. The gentle hum of water filtering through the tanks that expanded both walls of the exhibit, mixed with the occasional murmur of other visitors, created a serene atmosphere. It was pretty busy, most with other families and some teenagers running around. Jungkook led the way confidently through everyone, his playful energy still very present, but with an ease that was contagious.

Jungkook caught a glimpse of your profile as you took in the vibrant sea creatures. She looks intrigued, he thought. His heart raced a little, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Maybe I’m doing a good job so far.

“Alright, let’s start here,” He pointed towards the first exhibit, a massive floor-to-ceiling tank filled with vibrant schools of tropical fish darting through the corals. “Fun fact—most of these fish are native to the Indo-Pacific region.”

“Impressive,” You say, glancing between him and the fish, already intrigued. “What else?”

Jungkook’s grin widened as he launched into an impromptu lecture about the ecosystem of coral reefs, his enthusiasm making it hard not to be drawn in. As much as you were supposed to be trying to find little annoyances for your plan, you couldn’t help but enjoy the flow of the conversation. It didn’t feel forced. Instead, it was comfortable—lighthearted, but surprisingly informative.

“Okay, okay.” You interrupted at one point, leaning slightly into him as you looked up at the jellyfish exhibit. The tank glowed softly with blue and purple lights, jellyfish gracefully floating like little underwater ghosts. “What about these? Teach me about jellyfish, Mr. Expert.”

“Ah, jellyfish,” Jungkook said dramatically, pausing like he was about to unveil a great mystery. “Jellyfish have what are called hydrostatic skeletons.”

“And what are those?” You blinked, you expression clearly saying you had no idea what that meant.

“They have no bones, they have circular muscles and they have to contract their muscles to move along the ocean.” He nodded. “There is also a species that is essentially immortal. Turritopsis dohrnii. They can reset to their juvenile form after reaching maturity, which allows them to avoid dying of old age. So, yeah, immortal jellyfish.”

You stared at him for a second, half-expecting him to say he was joking, but the serious expression on his face told you otherwise. “Okay, that’s actually super cool. You weren’t kidding when you said your probably know more than the staff.”

As the two of you wandered through the aquarium, it surprised you how easily the conversation flowed between the both of you. Jungkook pointed out different fish, talked about their unique traits, and asked you questions too, like what your favorite animal was or whether you had any pets growing up. It didn’t feel like an interrogation, but more like a genuine curiosity, and that put you more at ease.

You reached the penguin exhibit, and Jungkook stopped in front of the glass, his eyes lighting up as a group of penguins waddle by. “Penguins are the best.” He declared, “They mate for life, you know?”

“Now that I did know. I’ve seen the march of the penguins.” To be fair is was when you were extremely young and that may be the only fact you could pull from the movie.

“I used to sit here and watch the penguins for hours. I just thought they were so cool when they would slide along on their bellies.” Jungkook mused and realized he had been guiding the conversation for a while now. “Seriously stop me anytime though. I can go on and on about animal facts.”

“Don’t stop! I think it’s cute.” You said, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. The moment felt light and playful, and you liked it.

“Oh, so you think I’m cute?” Jungkook smirked, wiggling his brows. The thought sent a flutter through your chest, and you felt heat creeping up your cheeks.

“Or just a nerd.” You pull yourself away in front of the exhibit and start to press on to the next section. “Come on geek!”

It was hard to remember you were supposed to be finding ways to be annoying or difficult when things were going this smoothly. Maybe Jin and Ronnie would have to help more with that later because, right now, this was actually...fun. More fun than you had expected.

As you both continued on through the aquarium, the awkwardness that often accompanies first dates seemed to be non existent. By the time you reached the final exhibit—an enormous tank filled with sharks and stingrays gliding overhead. It surrounded the entire room and there were section you could go and stand and watch fish swim above you. You and Jungkook found a nice spot to sit and to just watch. You had a found a fascination with a rather large stingray floating around the tank.

“I’m in heavy anticipation for your shark facts.” You kick your feet back and forth and glance to your side at Jungkook who was enraptured with the tank.

“Maybe not a fun fact, but hammerheads will trap sting rays with their heads to the seafloor to catch and eat them.”

“Huh,” He was correct, not so fun but still interesting, “I always wondered what their heads were good for.”

Jungkook hummed, a smile on his face. He had started the day nervous but he felt so comfortable now. The aquarium was actually Hoseok's idea, told Jungkook he should go somewhere where he could be at ease and maybe show off a little bit. Now showing off fish facts may have been unconventional, it was working here. You seemed to be really enjoying yourself, and laughing at most of his little jokes.

In that moment of silence, as he observed a sleek shark swim by, he glanced over at you, his voice softening. “So, how am I doing so far? Honestly.”

You looked at him, taking a beat before answering. “Well, I’ll admit I didn’t expect you to actually be this...interesting.” You teased, keeping it light. “But you’ve definitely surprised me.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “Surprised you in a good way, I hope?”

It was good, but horribly horribly bad. Because you weren’t sure if you could go through with this, Jungkook was nice and goofy. He took you somewhere he clearly really enjoyed and spent his day trying to make you laugh and smile. It was one of the best first dates you had been on in a long time. Maybe Jin had the completely wrong idea about Jungkook? Maybe this was all a mistake? Maybe you could find something real with Jungkook.

You would have to find a different guy for your experiment, not ideal but you admittedly were already having a small crush on Jungkook. A small voice in the back of your mind was screaming, I told you so. I knew you couldn’t do this. You are too much of a gooey romantic to pull this off.

“Good so far.” You smile, and turn your body to face him, “Okay, ask me anything you want. My turn to be an open book.”

“Oh really?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow but also adjusted to face you. “Okay. What made you become a writer?”

“Oh, good question.” You thought for a moment, “I used to be a mini reporter when I was younger. I used to dress up like an old 40’s style detective or journalist and I would write news stories about things happening in my neighborhood.”

“Did you pick up anything juicy?”

You shook your head, laughing at the memory. “Not at all. It was usually just anything I saw happen. Like breaking news: Ryan fell off his bike, or Mrs. Johnson bought apples and milk from the store. It was never anything groundbreaking, but I loved it.” Excitement seeped into your tone. “As I got older, I realized I liked reporting and journalism of any kind, even trashy magazine writing. I just wanted to be one of them. Have my name on something like that.”

Jungkook listened intently, fascinated. He found himself wrapped up in how animated and alive you looked talking about your passion. He admired the way your hands danced through the air as you spoke, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to picture you living out your dreams, pen in hand, telling the stories of the world.

“So what are you writing now?” Jungkook wanted to hear more, hear more about what made you excited.

You paused, because even though Jungkook didn’t know, that was a heavy question. “The promotion I mentioned the other night? I’m getting promoted from research to an actual writer for the magazine I’m at.”

Jungkook eyebrows shot up, “That’s incredible.”

“I know. It’s a huge deal and the piece I’m working on is… well.” You chewed on your lip, “It’s a research heavy piece and requires me to go out and do some actual field work.”

“I want to read it when it’s done.” Jungkook had a genuine smile on his face and he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since you started. You had just now noticed and all of those first date nerves came bubbling up in you.

“Oh, no.” You let out a breathy laugh, “It’ll be just a silly little think piece when it’s done.”

“So?” Jungkook tilted his head trying to meet your eyes, “I want to be your first reader when it’s published. Then I can walk around and brag about it.”

You nervously laugh to yourself, “I’ll make sure you get the first copy.”

Even though inside you were thinking, absolutely no way in hell is that happening .

“Perfect,” He said, nodding eagerly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, your gaze drifting back to the mesmerizing display of fish swimming above. You couldn’t help but feel lighter.

“So what do you think your ultimate goal as a writer is?” It surprised you little when he continued, you didn’t think he would want to know more about it.

“I think…” You said for a moment, watching a school of fish go by in the glass. “I want to be a funny writer but also someone who makes you think. I want my work to feel real but also force you to really examine yourself.”

“Well when you get famous and stuff,” Jungkook stood from his seat, “I get to say I knew you.” He extended a hand out to you. He hadn’t offered his hand the entire date, but he felt like now was appropriate.

You stared at it for a moment, he’s just helping you up that’s all, then you slipped your hand into his and stood with him. So to your own surprise, he didn’t let you go. Jungkook laced his fingers into yours, and it made your heart race in your chest. Goosebumps rising on your skin.

“Now we still have plenty of other things left to see.” With a swift movement Jungkook began to pull you along into the rest of the aquarium.

You both bounced around exhibits you had already seen and joked around a lot along the way. Jungkook also had plenty of more fish facts to throw out when you would encounter something you may have missed before. After a while the both of you managed to make it back to the front of the aquarium and found the gift shop.

“Oh these are cute.” You pull up a pair of tiny penguins that had magnets in the fins that held them together. “I think you can split them up so you can give one to someone.”

“That’s really cute.” Jungkook really wasn’t looking at anything, he was having more fun watching you look around at the items. Everything is a bit too overpriced.

You had a thought in mind, and took the penguins up to the counter. After the cashier rang you up and you took the penguins out of their package and gave one to Jungkook. He looked confused.

“One for you.” You smiled, “For such a nice first date.”

“They mate for life, you can’t split them up.” Jungkook fake pointed and you rolled your eyes, you eye the pocket on the front of his button up and tucked the penguin into his pocket. It fit perfectly so the head was sticking out.

You giggle a little at it and Jungkook smiles at your amusement, you then stick the other penguin to the shirt to see if the magnets would still stick and to your surprise they do indeed stick together. Jungkook also laughs at the gesture and then hands the other penguin back to you.

As Jungkook handed you the second penguin, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth at his playful smile. It felt like a little secret shared between the two of you, an inside joke that was unique to this moment. You turned the penguin over in your hands, admiring the tiny details.

“These little guys can be a reminder of our first adventure together,” You said, glancing up at him. “Every time I see mine, I’ll think of you and all your random fish facts.”

“I knew all of this aquatic knowledge would come in handy someday.”

The both of you made your way out to the entrance of the aquarium. You weren’t even really sure what time it was but the sun was starting to set and it was raining outside to both of your surprise. You and Jungkook had been so wrapped up in the day you hadn't even thought to even check your phones or check the weather for the day. Jungkook hadn’t either, he really hadn’t expected to enjoy himself this much but here he was. He really didn’t want the date to end.

“We might have to make a run for the subway.” Jungkook glanced out the windows, it was really coming down hard now.

“I’m so going to get sick.” You laugh, but with some confidence and you push the exit door open, stepping into the rain and looking back waiting for Jungkook to follow. The rain hitting you and icy cold hug made you gasp.

Jungkook laughed too, the sound brightening the dreary weather. Without a second thought, he dashed out into the rain after you, grabbing your hand as you both braved the elements. The rain was relentless, and you quickly found yourselves sprinting up the street toward the nearest subway station.

The air was crisp, and the rain felt like little stinging needles against your skin. “Definitely an unexpected twist for a first date.” You called to him, the sound of the rain a little deafening.

“What do you mean? Running in the rain? It’s a totally rom com cliché.” Jungkook calling back to your love for romance movies.

The both of you kept moving but began to shiver a little bit. The only heat between the both of you coming from your hands wrapped in each other.

The both of you could see the station just up ahead. The both of you tried to keep a quick pace so you could get in and catch the train. You and Jungkook and you spot a puddle you both try to gracefully jump over, but the slickness of the ground betraying Jungkook. He slips a little and almost takes you with him. laughter spilled from your lips, mixing with the sound of rain splashing against the pavement. It was pure chaos, but it felt exhilarating. Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he glanced at you, and for a moment, all the worries of the world faded away.

“An interesting way to close out the date.” You try wiping away some water from your face but it was useless at this point. “My outfit is definitely ruined.”

“I don’t know, I think the wet look is in.” His hair was sticking to the side of his face and forehead, he was clearly shivering but was still managing to have a boyish grin on his face. As you both reached the subway entrance, you paused, leaning against the wall, your laughter dying down into soft giggles. The rain still poured down around you, but it felt different now—intimate, almost magical. Jungkook’s eyes were bright, his expression softening as he looked at you.

For a moment, everything else faded away. The world around you blurred, and it felt like it was just the two of you in that cocoon of raindrops and laughter. Despite the biting chill of the rain soaking through your clothes, a warmth blossomed within you, igniting a spark that felt impossibly bright. Your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Jungkook stepped a little closer, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. You felt your own gaze drawn to his, mesmerized by the way his pink lips glistened in the dim light, kissed by the rain. He looked so cute, his expression a mix of surprise and delight. Before you could think about it, you closed the distance and pressed your lips to his.

Initially, Jungkook seemed taken aback, but the moment was electric, and he quickly melted into the kiss. What had started as a tentative peck transformed into something more quickly. He responded with surprising warmth, his hand gently cradling your cheek as he kissed you again, pulling you closer as if he wanted to shield you from the cold.

That kiss was sweet and tender, a balm against the rain. The warmth spread through you, wrapping around your heart like a cozy blanket.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your cheeks flushed from both the cold and the moment. Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and happiness, a wide smile breaking across his face.

“I’m pretty sure kissing in the rain is the biggest cliché of them all.” Jungkook broke the tension in the air and made you roll your eyes, you taking his hand again and pulling him into the station.

You both managed to make it to your train in time. You weren’t sure if Jungkook also lived this direction but he was coming with you nonetheless. The two of you were leaving puddles behind the both of you everywhere you went.

When you got off at the right station you realized how hungry you actually were now. Starving in fact, you and Jungkook had been so wrapped up in the aquarium food was the last thing on your mind, “Are you hungry?”

“Really hungry actually.” Jungkook was now realizing he was beginning to fade away with the lack of food.

“You want to get something to eat?”

The two of you found the closest place you could find to eat nearby and there was a crowded restaurant. The two of you managed to get a table really easily and settled it. You both got a series of weird looks at the state the two of you were in, but the two of you didn’t really care.

As you excused yourself to the bathroom, your heart was still racing from the high of the day. You needed a moment away from the intensity, a breath of space to gather your thoughts. The date had been so easy, so natural. Nothing like what you’d imagined when you first got involved in this whole thing. But you couldn’t let yourself get lost in the fantasy.

Once inside the bathroom, you didn’t even bother to check the mirror. You pulled out your phone, pacing frantically as you called Ronnie and Jin, knowing they’d be waiting for an update.

“Guys,” You blurted out, your voice low but panicked, “I can’t go through with this. I swear he’s just… a regular guy. This isn’t what we thought!”

There was a pause before Jin’s voice came through loud and clear. “Bad writer!” He scolded you. “Do not waver now. He’s playing you, just like we suspected.”

“I’m telling you, Jin, it feels real. The way he’s acting… he’s not some player. This all feels too genuine.” You caught your reflection in the mirror and grimaced, frustrated with yourself for even saying it out loud.

Ronnie chimed in, clearly less invested in your emotional rollercoaster, but supportive nonetheless. “Sounds too good to be true if you ask me. Stay strong, Y/N. This guy’s probably a master at making things feel real. That’s what they do. You’ve got this.”

You sighed, adjusting your hair with your free hand as you continued pacing. “You guys aren’t here with me! You didn’t see him today—he’s been amazing. It’s not like other dates where it’s all surface-level stuff. We were wrong.”

“I’m never wrong.” Jin insisted with that trademark smugness of his. “Trust me, his true colors will show soon. Stick to the plan.”

With a little more argument. They forced you to not give up and continue, Jin convinced he is still right about Jungkook.

They didn’t see him today though.

You rejoined Jungkook back at your booth and you were sitting right next to each other. Jungkook was typing on his phone, which managed to survive the downpour. You were also surprised that your phone somehow managed to survive it. Right now though, Jin and Ronnie were completely blowing it up with messages following your call.

“What is it?” Jungkook’s curiosity gets the better of him, glancing at your phone briefly but then looking away.

You shake your head, “Nothing my friends were just worried about me because I wasn’t responding. They thought you might have murdered me or something.” A lie but it would disarm his curiosity.

“How do they know you haven’t killed me?” Jungkook jokes, and you smiled.

You shrug and set your phone down on the table. “Nights still young. That could very well happen.”

“Fun.” Jungkook laughed at your obvious sarcasm. “I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook placed his phone down next to yours and excused himself away. Probably to go to the bathroom. You felt a warm glow in your chest just from the day. Everything was so nice and so fun, and easy. Jungkook was not what you were expecting, he probably wasn’t what your friends thought either.

It would be just your luck to accidentally pick a really great guy.

Or so you hoped.

At that moment a buzz came from the table and you thought it came from your phone since Jin and Ronnie were continuing to blow up your phone with reminders to stick to the plan. You glanced down and in an instant you wish you hadn’t. You really wished you hadn’t. Because the text did not come from your phone, it came from Jungkook's phone.

It wasn’t a text from just a friend either.

You looked away as fast as you saw it but it immediately brought you back to reality.

Hey baby, are you free tonight? I really want to do that thing again…

You really wished you hadn’t looked. You didn’t even register the name because you flipped Jungkook's phone over. For a moment, everything inside you froze. It felt like someone had just yanked you out of a dream, dropping you back into reality with a crash. The words, the suggestive tone—it wasn’t just a friendly text. This was someone else, someone calling him “baby”, someone who clearly thought they had plans with him tonight.

Because this is who he was, and why you set all those rules.

Of course Jungkook was texting another girl. Because that is the guy he is. He could be dreamy all day long but this was his nature. Not whatever façade he put on for your benefit today. For a second, your mind spun with questions: Who was she? What did they do? But no matter how many answers you wanted, one fact remained: this perfect day wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.

Your waitress brought over the drinks you two had ordered. You sipped it so you could give your hands something to do. The disappointment swirled in your stomach for a moment before you pulled yourself together.

You were here for your own reasons.

That text just proved why you picked Jungkook in the first place. He is a playboy, and you had a goal. Day one, twenty-nine more to go.

You spotted Jungkook returning to the table and he had a big smile on his face. You put back on a big smile yourself. Acting as if nothing had changed and nothing was different. You took a quick moment to send a quick text to Ronnie and Jin.

: Nevermind. You guys were right. I can do this.

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sorryimananti-romantic · 16 days ago

Text

The Leaders | Chapter VI

"maybe a place where light and darkness meet, the choice between truth and lies is mine."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: drinking, illegal businesses, mentions of violence, war/military and weapons, mention of drug(s), mc is confused as fawk but is vibing with whatever is going on, we finally meet the asshole father, hongjoong shows that he can be an asshole too, cue tears, seonghwa takes that chance to up his game (look idk how else to do warnings) (i may have missed sth)

chapter wc: 13.8k

chapter synopsis: the crescents share updates, deciding to dig deeper into the unknown identity of the anonymous funder. yeosang reveals that the rv spies are protecting you from a threat that is not secretary park and the anxiety of that unknown threat weighs on you heavily. yunho hints at the nature of the crescents’ relationship and you decide to take some time to think about it. The bosses finally tell you about their drug project and hongjoong asks you to accompany them to edenary as their partner, where they will be making a new deal. you confront secretary park there, but the night ends in tears, especially when you conflict with the boss. the underboss is there to make you feel better.

prev chapter recap: you are supposed to meet assemblyman wi with hongjoong. seonghwa tries his best to calm you while hongjoong gifts you an infinity clasp bracelet which only confuses you further. when you meet the assemblyman, hongjoong admits that he’s trying to make you ‘a leader’. you successfully make assemblyman wi agree to investigate secretary park with the keyword of ‘strictland’. while you relax with san, yeosang has a meeting with wendy and learns that the rv spies are protecting you from threats that they refuse to reveal– the real threat is not secretary park. worried, yeosang decides to call a meeting with the boys without your knowledge. you practise shooting with the warehouse boys and you learn that yunho has actually placed bets on how you won’t be able to shoot a single target. agitated, you cheat a little and have the warehouse boys win the bet. you also ask them to look into their anonymous funders as you learn more about the weapons project. finally, you confront yunho who teases you to no end but takes you to a place from his childhood to show you how he learned to aim. the night takes an unexpected, intimate turn.

You once heard about the butterfly effect. It was fascinating to hear how the most infinitesimal flutter of their wings could end up creating a ripple of change through time itself– unimaginable and irreversible change.

Sometimes, you would trace back the events of your life to understand which flutter of a pair of wings, or which pebble thrown in the lake led you to where you were today, at Room no. 1 at the Crescent Bar with all of the boys around you– probably a consequence of a series of small and insignificant decisions coupled with some big decisions.

It was surreal how you went from an observer of the Crescents to being a part of the Crescents yourself.You never thought their little actions would make your heart move so much and never did you imagine that they would create their space in your heart in such a short period of time. Instead of sneaking peeks from the office window, you sat among them and noticed that your presence didn’t change anything.

Your presence didn’t make them wary and you found the nature of their conversations remained the same as without you. They were including you in their discussion and making you feel comfortable with the little things- asking for your opinion as if it mattered (yes, they insisted it did but it was still hard to believe so), pouring wine for you, putting food in your plate, and even–

Even paying attention to the little details– the slight raise of your brow whenever you didn’t fully agree with something, the curling of your fingers as you picked on your skin when all eyes were trained on you, the exchange of glances with San when you both found something funny, the pointed look towards Yeosang when Hongjoong would play boss with you, the pointed look in Hongjoong’s direction when he would point out a discrepancy in your argument.

The way your eyes naturally fixed on Seonghwa whenever you needed assurance, which was kind of funny because this man was mainly the reason you were here right now. The way you would avoid Yunho’s eyes when his fingers would intertwine with yours with a promising squeeze in hopes of providing some sort of comfort or agreement. The masking of your laughter when Jongho shared a cheesy joke and the partnering with Wooyoung whenever you had something funny to add to the argument since your sense of humour matched with his the most. And finally, the way you would look towards Mingi for help whenever you felt like you were being driven into a corner by any one of them.

You were the most relieved to realise that your presence didn’t change their dynamics, yet, there was an inevitable change in their interactions so they could be attentive towards you, and you to them. You fitted right in. It was not a missing piece of the puzzle, rather, the puzzle itself changed to accommodate you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Luna? Are you alright?”

It was both Yunho’s voice and his comforting squeeze of hand that brought you out of a trance and you blinked, appreciating the call.

“Oh, I’m perfectly alright. Just zoned out for a moment.”

You were alright. Your heart felt full at the sight of the boys chatting and eating, Seonghwa scooping some more rice for you and nudging you with his hand on your shoulder, pointing at the food. “I make sure everyone eats.”

“I finished two bowls, Sir.”

“Well, this one is still full,” he said. “Eat.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mocked, downing a drink, not oblivious to the snickers from the boys who overheard this little interaction. You sent a glare in their direction before giving in and begrudgingly taking a bite. You couldn’t disobey the underboss and expect to get away with it.

“Alright, if we’re all done eating and fooling around,” Hongjoong called after a few moments, grabbing everyone’s attention. “General Wi called to let me know that he thinks we’re right to suspect Secretary Park. He sent his men to tail Park Sunghoon and they got ambushed and barely made it out alive.”

Jongho grunted at the news, brows scrunching in thought. “Could Sunghoon be acting on his own, though?”

Hongjoong looked towards you for an answer and you shook your head. “I’m not sure if anything has changed in the past couple of years, but our father never allowed him to stray too far. He’s always had him on a leash, you could say. Might be part of the reason why Sunghoon rebels so much.”

“Right,” Hongjoong nodded. “General Wi did find something odd. He used his connections to find out if Secretary Park has been out of the country recently, and discovered that he’s been frequenting Halaland for a considerable amount of time now.”

“He could have some other dealing going on in Halaland?” San wondered, always giving anyone the benefit of doubt. “We should look into that.”

“Or if he’s visiting Strictland,” Mingi began. “He can’t simply go to Strictland from Eden. That would be too obvious. You need a permit to visit Strictland from Eden but if I’m recalling correctly, you can visit Strictland without a permit if you’re a Hala local. He could have easily tagged with some locals then.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t simply go to Strictland from here if he was involved in something illegal,” you agreed with Mingi. “He can go to extreme lengths to hide something he doesn’t want the world to know about.”

The boys had a feeling that you were referring to yourself too and they exchanged glances. Yeosang was the first to speak. “We can check if he’s had any reason to go to Halaland first before we assume that he’s up to something in Strictland. Are we still in contact with Suho’s gang?”

“It’s been radio silence for a while but I’ll make a call or send a message– I can’t promise a positive response,” Jongho said and you wondered if being half-Hala ever earned him some benefits. Was he really friendly with the gang based in Halaland? “We didn’t really end things on a good note.”

“It’s fine, we can look for some other means too,” Seonghwa suggested. “Maybe the RV spies.”

“The RV spies?” You repeated, the name foreign on your lips. “Who are they?”

“A spy network of women,” Seonghwa was smiling and you thought there was a secret concealed within his words. “You remember Winter? She’s one of them. They’re really good at disguise and have dirt on literally every person in Eden– even the common man.”

You let that sink in. Seonghwa had a meeting with Winter the other day and the sight of her rocked a familiar yet distant memory in your head. You were positive you had come across her in Edenary. So she was a spy?

“If they’re that extensive and meticulous, they would know a lot about me, right? Maybe things that even I don’t know about.”

“Yeah, we considered contacting them when we were looking into your background,” Yunho admitted and you made a face, making him laugh a bit. “We never got to that, though. We had other sources.”

“Kihyun?” You asked and he nodded in confirmation.

“And Hongjoong was quick enough to figure it out himself,” Seonghwa added, amused as he recalled that night.

“Yeah, well, it was very obvious. Your father may have done a good job hiding you but you didn’t really do a good job hiding yourself,” he commented.

“Well, I wasn’t really hiding myself,” you lied and he caught that, raising a brow in challenge. “More like… delaying the inevitable.”

The boys laughed at that, Jongho filling everyone’s glasses again and you all cheered before drinking.

“Oh, one last thing,” Mingi began, having just recalled his recent findings. “We officially know the identity of all of our anonymous funders save for one.”

“And you’ve tried everything?” Hongjoong asked and when Mingi nodded, he settled back in thought.

“How old is the source?”

“September 1966,” Mingi said and the room fell silent as everyone tried to recall the events from four years ago.

You remembered that time well. “I came back to Eden from Wonderland on 14th August, 1966.”

“And President Han Hyojoo was assassinated on 17th August,” Wooyoung scratched his chin. “There were a lot of protests and things were bad for a while– even in September. Right?”

“Yes,” Yunho took a deep breath. “I think it was in September when the Siren Rebel Party laid its foundations. They feared martial law would be imposed on Eden, but President Lee won the elections– he was a favourite at that time.”

“Pity votes,” Wooyoung huffed, folding his arms. “I never liked that man. His smile scares me.”

While some of them burst into laughter, teasing Wooyoung’s unwarranted dislike for the President of Eden, Seonghwa noticed how you fell silent. “What are you thinking?”

“Why was President Han assassinated?” You wondered. “I mean, yeah, she obviously had enemies, but wasn’t she from a long line of politicians? She wasn’t the first female president either. Didn’t she contribute a lot to rebuild Eden?”

“She did,” Hongjoong said, “alongside President Son until his term was over, and then she won the elections yet kept a strong partnership with President Son. They were quite a pair.”

“And Lee Jinwook was basically a nobody even while he was a politician until his wife got killed,” Wooyoung said. “Then he started collecting pity votes.”

“I think Wooyoung has got some personal beef with President Lee,” Jongho laughed. “He’s always after him.”

“You would be too if you look closely,” Wooyoung wasn’t having any of it. “We all know that he only won because of his late wife, and now he thinks he’s something.”

“Well, Eden has been stable in his administration so far, and we’re almost nearing the end of his term,” Yeosang tried. “He doesn’t really have enemies.”

“Isn’t that odd?” You narrowed your eyes. “If President Lee claims to be continuing his wife’s legacy, and his wife got killed because someone had a problem with how things ran, wouldn’t they get rid of him too?”

“That… is a good point,” San shifted uncomfortably.

“What is the difference between President Lee’s administration and President Han’s?” You asked, looking around. “He can’t be running things exactly the same way, right?”

“It’s mostly the same, with a few changes,” Seonghwa said. “Attempts to try to improve the relation with Halaland, which shouldn’t be odd because we can’t be at the risk of war all the time. More contributions to the healthcare system and that we can owe that to Secretary Park, and then… a few personnel and administration changes. President Son retired from politics altogether– there was some tension between them.”

You bit your lips in thought. You really needed to refresh your history because something was gnawing at your mind; a connection that was present and felt an arm’s reach away but you couldn’t grab it.

“Do you think it’s got anything to do with our anonymous source?” Hongjoong asked. “I don’t want you wasting time on what-ifs. If you’re sure there’s a connection, then we can investigate.”

You nodded, making a mental note to talk to Seonghwa about this later. You might be shooting an arrow in the dark but you could never be too sure. “I just think the timing is odd. President Lee wouldn’t need to make sure there are enough weapons in Eden illegally. So it’s got to be someone who was sure President Lee would not be doing enough for Eden’s defence.”

Mingi agreed, “They think the President is still not doing enough considering how we receive our paychecks regularly.”

“Alright, let’s assume there is a connection but don’t let it narrow the focus of your investigation,” Hongjoong concluded and he started giving instructions around the table. The meeting was over and you would all be separating ways now.

“Do you have a moment before you leave?” Yeosang asked when you were picking up your belongings, the warehouse boys just having shared farewell hugs with you. There was still a smile on your face from when Wooyoung kissed your cheek and looked pointedly at Yunho– you weren’t sure if Wooyoung was aware that you and Yunho had crossed some boundaries, but it was still amusing to watch Yunho roll his eyes and scoff before leaving. Wooyoung said they would be having dinner at BB Trippin soon and you were also invited.

“Sure. I was only going to go home,” you said and followed him to his office. You dumped your things on his desk as if you still belonged there– perhaps, you did. The office looked more unorganised than usual with empty glasses lining the table, a few bottles in the corner and documents strewn everywhere.

“Have you been drinking?” You asked. Yeosang was a drinker, but he was never untidy.

“Ah, yes,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I can explain the mess– I was looking into a few things recently and uh…”

“And Luna is not here anymore to clean up after you?” You finished for him. “No new bookkeeper?”

“I’m the bookkeeper now,” he said in all seriousness and you passed him a warning look. “Alright, I’m considering Jeonghan for the post.”

“Jeonghan would make you do all the work while he naps or fools around,” you pointed out but you both knew you were joking– he was really clever and you were considering suggesting him to Yeosang anyway. “So, what’s this about?”

Yeosang waited until you settled down and then he took a seat in front of you across the desk. He was watching you in thought and you let him have a moment to sort his thoughts out.

“I worry about your safety, Luna,” he started. “And it’s why I want you to be honest during our conversation. I know you have your own secrets but I really need to confirm a few things so we know what we’re dealing with.”

“Okay,” you nodded, narrowing your eyes in suspicion and confusion.

“The boys do not know that I’m having this conversation with you because we agreed not to tell you, for now,” he told you and you blinked in surprise. They told each other everything. “But after this meeting, I think we should talk. And if you wish so, our conversation can remain between us unless we feel that we should let them know for safety reasons.”

“Alright,” you shifted uncomfortably. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Are you sure your father is the only one who means to harm you?”

Oh.

“I mean… Sunghoon might?” you suggested. “He’s always been after me for different reasons. Sibling rivalry, if you can call it that.”

“Yeah, but if Secretary Park is after you and Sunghoon is aware of it, then he wouldn’t need to interfere, right?” Yeosang said and you shrugged in agreement. “Can you think of any other person who might be after you? Anyone who might have a grudge against you? Anyone from Eden or Wonderland?”

“Did something happen?” You asked again, your voice laced with worry.

“Nothing, but we got a tip recently. The RV spies didn’t reveal who they meant, but they were sure that Secretary Park is not the real threat that you should be worrying about.”

Cold washed over you as his words registered, a montage of your life flashing through your eyes in an attempt to recall any falling out you’ve had with someone who was not your family, or any time you might have intentionally or unintentionally caused harm to someone or said something unkind.

“I… can’t think of anything, Yeosang,” you looked at him and he immediately moved to hold your hands in his, squeezing them reassuringly to ease the despair in your voice. “Why would someone be after me? My father has a reason, even though it’s not justifiable, but why would someone else be?”

He only shrugged in response. He had no answer either and from what he knew, you had lived a pretty secluded life.

“Could it be Assemblyman General Wi? I might have rubbed off on him the wrong way–”

“I don’t think they meant him. They didn’t say anything explicitly but… you must understand that RV spies are assassins. Usually, they are employed to get rid of a person or an organisation. But for the first time, I’m hearing that they’re protecting someone.”

“Who?”

“Who do you think?” He cocked his head and you exhaled in disbelief. “They think whatever information you have is valuable enough that they have to make sure that it’s not in the wrong hands. I think if they haven’t killed you yet, that means they’re okay with you sharing that information with us.”

“Very helpful, Yeosang,” you muttered and he stifled a smile.

“They’re protecting you,” he chastised, squeezing your hands softly for good measure. “Whoever you are or whatever you’ve heard while you were in Edenary is worth enough that the most notorious spies and assassins are trying to protect you. And they think they’ll be doomed if you get hurt.”

“That can’t be true,” you wrenched your hands away from Yeosang, shaking your head furiously. “I’ve told you everything that I’ve heard.”

“And I believe you,” Yeosang responded cautiously. “I just want you to think again, yeah? You don’t have to worry– you’re safe. You can take your time and think if there was something that was odd and didn’t make sense back then. It might make sense now. Your time in Edenary, in Wonderland and when you came back… I know it’s overwhelming but can you do that for me?”

You nodded absently, getting up and clutching your bag in one hand, about to leave when Yeosang stepped in front of you and gave you a disapproving look.

“Don’t let it get to your head, Luna,” he placed his hands on the dip of your shoulders, locking eyes with you. “You’ll be okay.”

“Why do the rest don’t know about this meeting, Yeosang?” You asked, unable to keep the scepticism from your tone. “Do they still not trust me after all I’ve done for them? After all I’ve given them?”

Yeosang shook his head. “They trust you, and we all mutually agreed to try to get the RV spies to talk or look into it ourselves, because we didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he admitted. “We knew you’d take it to heart. They don’t like to see you anxious.”

“What do they care if I’m anxious or not?”

“I thought you knew by now, Luna, that we care. All of us do.”

“Then why did you tell me now?” You asked, barely a whisper.

“Because I’ve known you longer than they have,” he smiled. “And I know that if you’re aware of this, you might be less cross with us than if you find out later. I owe you one, remember?”

He was making up to you for getting you involved with them– for assigning you bookkeeping without telling you the consequences of that job. You avoided his gaze as you smiled but you felt guilty for snapping at him.

The boys really just wanted to make sure that you were at peace. They would rather inconvenience themselves to find out the answers than have you restless.

Yeosang hooked his finger under your chin, making you look at him and you both dissolved into chuckles as you tried to pull away from him. You quickly gave up and let him bring you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around you securely and his steady voice assuring you that you would be okay, that you had nothing to worry about. That they would keep you safe. You buried your nose in the crook of his neck, taking deep breaths and he kissed the top of your head.

When you drew away, his hands slid down your arms to hold your hands and he noticed the cuff bracelet on your wrist, lips curling into a smile as he recognised it.

“Do you always wear it?”

“Yeah,” you raised your arm to look at the silver bracelet. It looked like he was aware that Hongjoong had given it to you, and now that you knew that Yeosang had feelings for you that were not entirely platonic, it was strange to see not a hint of jealousy or envy on his face. Instead, his eyes gleamed and you poked his chest.

“You’re weird, Yeosang.”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before,” he scoffed, watching the bracelet on your wrist for just a moment longer before he looked at you. “Let me know if you feel like it’s too much, okay?”

“Which part?”

Yeosang had a faint smile on his lips as he tucked your hair back and caressed your cheeks in the process. “Whichever part feels too much?”

“I don’t understand when you all are going to stop trying to talk to me in circles and say something,” you almost cried out. “That part is too much.”

“Is there something you’ve been wanting to hear?” Yeosang cocked his head, amused. “Or… did something happen? Something you’d like to tell me about?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Is there something you’d like me to tell you?”

“Hmm… let’s see,” he trailed his finger down your temple, his thumb subtly swiping at your bottom lip, perhaps an indication that he did know. “I’m just wondering if you found the answer to the question you asked me last time.”

“What question?” You asked softly, feigning innocence as you curled your fingers around his hand that rested on your cheek. “Why don’t you remind me again?”

Yeosang only chuckled, knowing very well that perhaps, you were done playing games with them– or at least him. He drew back, raising his hands in defeat.

“Maybe when you’re ready to answer it.”

“Yeosang,” you warned. “You’re all in this together, aren’t you? At least some of you.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He raised a brow in challenge, opening the door for you. “Have a good evening, Luna.”

The rain continued to pour without a break for the remainder of the week and more. The sun would rarely come out but when it did, it would be heavily concealed by clouds and just offer a sheen of glimmer on the wet pavements and roads of Sector 1. The days remained bleak, a reflection or perhaps a fuel for your gloominess.

Although nothing significant happened after your conversation with Yeosang a few days ago, it still weighed heavily upon your heart. The shift in your mood didn’t go unnoticed by your colleagues Eunha and Jihoon, though they didn’t comment on your lack of contribution to conversations and how your smile didn’t meet your eyes anymore. They had a feeling that if they probed, you wouldn’t offer anything in return.

They didn’t need to either, for there were plenty of people worrying about you. Yunho, for instance, who was quick to realise something was up and confronted you the other night when you were in his office finishing up a report.

You tried to avoid the question by dismissing the change in your energy as exhaustion but he wasn’t having any of it. You figured you were obvious, especially in front of him. It was hard to look at him without wanting to open up your heart to him, especially when his presence was so welcoming.

“Won’t you talk to me about it?” He pleaded in a mellow voice and an even softer gaze, his eyes rounding and brows scrunching.

There. Your weakness.

“Yunho. You can’t look at me like that,” you tossed the pen on the table between you and slumped back, folding your arms as you softly admonished. “This won’t work on me anymore.”

“What?”

“Those eyes of yours,” you said and he choked on his laughter. He proceeded to loosen his tie, the top button of his shirt conveniently unbuttoned already. Strands of hair messily fell over his forehead and you had to physically restrain the urge to run your hands through his soft hair.

“I’d say it’s working,” he smiled almost victoriously, leaning forward. “Can you really not talk about it?”

You pressed your lips tightly in consideration before you finally gave in. You were only human, after all. “Yeosang told me about how the RV spies are protecting me from some threat that is not my father.”

Yunho whistled in realisation. Of course that was bothering you. “I knew he was going to tell you.”

“I expected you would tell me.”

“Well, I was the one who insisted that we don’t tell you yet for exactly this reason,” he looked at you pointedly and you hid your face behind your hands, guilty. “You’re all worried now. Anyways, I wouldn’t believe anything they say right away without verification, though they’re a pretty reliable source.”

You uncovered your face. “Don’t tell the rest that I know, okay?”

Yunho laughed softly but agreed. “So? Any thoughts about who might be interested in you?”

“I wouldn’t be in this state if I had it figured out,” you almost cried out. “I have been very low-profile until I started working here in the office. I can’t think of anyone who would want to get rid of me– for what? For the information I possess? What information exactly, because what I have right now only threatens Secretary Park… unless…”

“Unless Secretary Park’s secret is someone else’s secret too?” Yunho finished for you and you nodded. “Do you recall who exactly was the person your father was discussing the Strictland matter with?”

“I only caught a glimpse and I didn’t recognise him– I must have seen him for the first time,” you said.

“Do you think you could recognise him if you see him again?”

“Maybe?” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “If they’re trying so hard to hide it, and if the person who’s after me must be someone my father has partnered with on the Strictland matter, It must mean whatever is happening in Strictland is actually taking place… right?”

Yunho didn’t need to answer that– he was sure that if you were not hiding anything else from them, this might be it.

“We’re taking care of it, okay? You really don’t have to worry about it– or if you have to worry, don’t think about it too much. You don’t have any answers yet, and that’s okay.”

You offered him a weak smile and got up to place the compiled folder on his desk. When you were about to go back to sit across from him, he patted the space next to him instead.

“Come here.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach at the way his voice sounded like a command. You could resist, but his gaze was incredibly pulling so you settled next to him, keeping a respectful distance between your bodies.

“Is that all you’ve been worrying about?”

“Well… obviously not,” you shot him a look but when his fingers curled around your hand, you didn’t snatch it away. “I don’t know what you want from me, Yunho.”

“What I want doesn’t matter,” he started but you shook your head.

“You’ve talked to Yeosang, haven’t you?” You asked and he didn’t respond, searching your eyes. “And he’s talked to you. You all talk to each other. You’re all far too close with each other. I’m noticing that recently.”

“Really?” He said in an almost mocking tone. “And what other observations has our little secretary made?”

“Yunho,” you called in a warning tone. “I’m not trying to judge you or probe into whatever it is that is going on between you guys. But I am beginning to understand that you’re all a team and everyone knows everything about each other.”

“And?”

“And…” you sighed, looking at your joined hands and sliding your thumb across his skin. “I don’t know.”

“What do you want from us?” Yunho asked softly.

There it was. Us. It was never a ‘me’. It was always an ‘us’.

“What do you mean by ‘us’?” You raised a brow.

“Are you sure you’re ready to hear that answer?”

Oh, fuck him. He was literally steering the conversation in the same direction that Yeosang had.

“Well, you can stop confusing me for once and talk,” you snatched your hand away this time.

“How can I talk when I don’t know what you want from me, or from Yeosang?” Yunho raised a brow,a teasing smile plastered on his face. “We kissed. You like Yeosang.”

“I like you too,” you added and immediately regretted it when you saw his grin grow wider. “Does it not bother you? That I like him and you both?”

Yunho only smiled and looked down, trying to form a response but failing to because this was a confession–

And this meant that Seonghwa really was right about you. He was one meticulous bastard.

“Does it bother you?” Yunho asked, and you finally realised that this was the question you should be asking yourself.

Does it bother you that you like Yeosang and Yunho? Does it bother you that you were attracted to San and that one soft look from Seonghwa made you feel like you could soar into the skies? Does it bother you that the Captain– Hongjoong– meant so much to you that the bracelet he gave you was becoming an anchor for you to remind you that you were safe, protected, and perhaps, wanted?

Could any of it be the beginning of something beautiful and unknown, or had you finally lost your mind?

“Don’t get lost in there,” Yunho scooted closer, planting a kiss on your temple and remaining close. “Just do me a favour and figure out your feelings about us first, will you? I can’t explain anything until you’re sure that… that you want us like we want you.”

“What does that mean?” You asked, stomach twisting into knots though your heart raced in anticipation.

Yunho wasn’t going to answer that, but he could help ease your confusion a little. “It’s okay if you choose one of us, or none of us. We will respect your decisions. But… you can also choose more of us. We don’t mind.”

Suddenly, everything started to make a little more sense– the subtle glances the boys would exchange among themselves when you were in the room. The way Seonghwa always looked like he knew something about you that even you didn’t. The way Yunho must have known Yeosang liked you before he kissed you and still told him– and the way Yeosang knew Yunho had kissed you and wanted to hear it from your mouth. The way he looked at your bracelet knowingly– was it a marker that you were theirs now?

Oh, and how San was almost flirting with you as of recently. The thing Wooyoung had said about you not just being their secretary, but a part of their inner circle– just what did being a part of their inner circle entailed? And the way Mingi and Jongho were so welcoming and friendly towards you– while they had not done anything to make you feel like they had crossed some platonic boundary, you were suddenly reading too much into everything.

“Does it overwhelm you?”

“Of course it does,” you admitted but when you didn’t flinch away from him, he took that as a positive sign. “I need time.”

“Of course. You have all the time in the world. There really is no rush,” he brushed the pad of his thumb along your cheek in soft, slow caresses.

“And I want you to stop swaying my feelings.”

Yunho’s head dipped down in silent surrender to guilt, though the smirk creeping on his face threatened to give him away. “I’m sorry but I can’t resist that. Not until you give me a solid rejection.”

“Ah, let’s end it then–”

“Hey!” He placed his hand over your mouth to keep you from finishing the sentence and you burst into giggles, even more so when you tried pushing him away, but before you knew it, he was almost on top of you with a finger on his mouth shushing you, his hand on your mouth dampening your laugh until you stopped, realising the tangled position that you were in and feeling warmth course through your entire body– warmth that made you shiver as if you were cold instead.

“Quiet, okay?” Yunho whispered and you nodded, eyes wide. “And don’t reject me right now.”

He pulled his hand away, rubbing the smear of the lipstick at the corner of your mouth when he discovered it, his lips parting in concentration and when he was done, he looked into your eyes to find them laden with–

Desire. It had to be desire. If your eyes weren’t indication enough, the way your breath quickened was.

Yunho licked his lips instinctively, his breath getting heavier with want and you wondered if he really wanted you as badly as you wanted him. Ignoring that you both had agreed to give you some space, you pushed yourself upwards just a bit, crowding his personal space and his breath hitched when he found you inches away.

It was electrifying to know that someone wanted you back for once and when you looked at him pleadingly, he crashed his lips on yours, making you fall right back on the couch. You looped your arms around his neck and kissed him back with equal enthusiasm, arching into him and he caught your body in an embrace with one arm around your back and the other cradling the back of your neck.

While your kiss at the park had been passionate, this one was putting it to shame– he poked his tongue inside your mouth at the first opportunity, deepening the kiss and then angled his face to kiss you better. His hand travelled down to your waist and a suggestive squeeze elicited a moan from your mouth which he was quick to swallow with a kiss. When you finally drew back for breath, he rested his forehead against yours for just a moment before proceeding to trail kisses down your cheek, along your jaw and then downwards, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Yunho,” you softly whispered, relishing the feeling of his warm breath against your skin, running your fingers through his hair lovingly. He hummed against your neck, resting his lips on the juncture of your neck, realising that perhaps… he should have waited. You both should have waited.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t end this on a good note. He looked up at you with an understanding smile, washing away all your worries. And then he peppered kisses all over your face, eliciting a shy smile. With a final few pecks to your lips, he nodded in satisfaction.

“Yeah, I’ll give you your space.”

You laughed darkly, shaking your head. Patting his chest twice, you got out of his embrace which was a struggle in every sense.

“Maybe we should start including Seonghwa in our meetings too so we don’t end up making out each time we’re alone.”

“Oh, he would enjoy that,” Yunho commented and you raised a brow but he only shook his head, ending the conversation.

It was electrifying to know that someone wanted you back. And not just someone…

But someone else too, and perhaps more.

Despite your recent interactions with the boys, the looming threat over your head came to be the reason that your mood turned as bleak as the evenings of Eden. Yunho asked you if it was something he did but you assured him that you were more worried about figuring out who was after you and how it was tied to Strictland.

Seonghwa, of course, also noticed the shift in your mood. He was aware of everything that had gone down the past few days and he wondered if now was a good time to tell you about the recent deal they were preparing to offer to a certain business figure– the deal that would originally have been Secretary Park’s. Hongjoong insisted that now was the only time and since the new contender was from Wonderland, your opinion might prove to be valuable again.

“Luna?” He called, having been watching you for a few moments. You had been staring out through the window for the past few minutes and his voice almost made you jump. “Is everything okay?”

“Yep. Just… admiring the weather,” you pointed outside, the clouds rumbling with comical timing.

“Brilliant weather, innit?” Seonghwa chuckled. “Can you join us for our meeting?”

“Of course,” you answered, beginning to wrap up the files on the table. “I’ll join you in a few moments.”

When you entered the boss’ room, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were already in the middle of a discussion seated across from each other on the sofas. You took a seat next to Seonghwa.

“We have a business contender regarding our drug approval,” Seonghwa began. “The one that we almost signed with Secretary Park.”

“Oh, that’s… great news?” You looked between them, unsure if it was good news since you had little to no knowledge about the drug they intended to get approved. It was still a secret known only amongst the bosses and a selected few employees.. “Who is it?”

“Madame Tiffany Hwang– she is a respectable business figure in Wonderland. Have you heard about her?” Hongjoong asked.

“She’s the owner of quite a few businesses,” you recalled, having seen the face in the newspaper of Wonderland quite a lot during your time there. “I don’t really remember which ones but her most notable endeavour has to be SNSD, the tech company. She’s the CEO, I believe?”

“That’s right,” Hongjoong passed you a file which contained information on Madame Tiffany’s business and a little background check. She was a Wonderland citizen who was going to be visiting Eden to expand her business and possibly do a collaboration with a tech company here. “She visited Edenary a few months ago. We acquainted ourselves and she showed interest in investing in other businesses. I think she’ll take up our offer.”

“Why?” You wondered out loud. “From what I know, she’s a very well-established figure in the business world. What would she be gaining from investing in your pharmaceutical business?”

“The upper hand,” Hongjoong smirked and you looked at Seonghwa who nodded. “The drug we aim to launch is one already known amongst the elite class of the continent– we’re talking Halaland, Wonderland and Utopia among other countries. I suppose she’ll be gaining power, at the very least.”

“Can you tell me more about this drug?” You asked.

Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa and the underboss nodded, leaning forwards and speaking in a low volume. “That drug… It's called silver light. We discovered its existence during the war when one of our soldiers came across a batch accidentally. We started using it as a numbing drug during medical emergencies– it seemed to work better than the painkillers we had in reserve so we kept it for the extreme cases.”

“After the war ended,” Hongjoong added, “I did a little digging in. I found out that the batch we used up was meant for the highest ranking military. They rarely fought at the scene so I wondered why they would need such a drug, but then I realised it wasn’t a medicine– not yet. It was just a drug that was consumed for pleasure.”

“So while people laid their lives for this land,” Seonghwa sighed deeply in conclusion, “the elites kept such a medically beneficial drug for entertainment purposes.”

“Oh my god,” you were thoroughly surprised at their revelation. “That’s… ridiculous. I served as a medical assistant for about two years in the war but I never heard of such a drug.”

“No one in Eden is aware of its existence save for the elites who consume this drug for pleasure,” Hongjoong told you. “It’s an opioid based drug so it is banned not only in Eden but the entire continent. The only way we get our hands on this drug is through underground channels. You bet that once we make it public that we’re trying to launch it into the market for medical purposes, the elites will do anything to stop us.”

“Does anyone else know about this yet? Secretary Park?” You asked.

“No, but he must suspect something considering that he’s from Edenary and is himself a pharmaceutical company owner,” Seonghwa answered. “It would be strange if he’s aware of its existence and hasn’t tried to launch it or, well, use it in one way or another.”

You nodded slowly. “Are you sure Madame Tiffany will be the right person for the deal?”

“That’s why you’re here,” Hongjoong resigned back, crossing his legs, a faint smirk on his lips. “We’ll be the judge of that, and if you have any connections in Wonderland who could do you a favour and conduct another background check on her… that would be much appreciated.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” you confirmed. You were familiar with your aunt’s gang and could probably ring them for this.

“We’re short on time though. Madame Tiffany is arriving in Edenary in a week. Her schedule is going to be packed so we can’t say if she’ll visit Sector 1. We should be prepared to make a visit to Edenary, and if it looks like she’s the right investor, we will prepare to make arrangements and receive her here.”

You made an impressed face at Seonghwa. “Looks like you’re getting busier soon.”

“We are getting busy,” Seonghwa smiled deviously. “What do you think about joining us on our visit to Edenary?”

“Me? Edenary?” You gaped at him. The air in the room suddenly felt too cold despite the nervous sweats now oozing out of your body. “But…”

“I think it’s about time you stopped hiding in the shadows,” Hongjoong said, clasping his hands together. “Secretary Park will be there, as well as a lot of politicians and business people. You might recognise most of them, and from what I know, a lot of people might recognise you too.”

“Secretary Park,” you muttered. “Are you sure about this?”

“I think it’s a good opportunity to let him know that you’re no longer afraid of him,” Seonghwa mused.

“And an even better opportunity to find out who really wants to get me,” you said, referring to the information you learned from Yeosang and the men exchanged glances. “I’m aware. It has to be someone from Edenary since they only took action after I got involved with your company. If it was a local, they had plenty of opportunities to get rid of me.”

“Right…” Hongjoong shrugged in acceptance. “So? Are you willing to accompany us as our secretary? Are you willing to announce to the world that you are a part of our inner circle? Because your visit to Edenary will be changing a lot of things, Luna.”

You straightened, feeling a surge of confidence boost through you. If the bosses of the Crescents were willing to trust you, you were not going to let them down. “It’s a good opportunity to tie up loose ends,” you said. “I need to have a talk with my father. It’s long overdue.”

“Perfect,” Hongjoong clapped. “We leave in two days. Wipe that grim look off your face, Luna. Show them what you’re made of.”

It felt surreal to enter the capital of Eden through the Sector 1 gate, the diamond-shaped carvings on the gates bisecting as the metal frame opened with a loud creak, true to its old age. The eight gates around Edenary that opened to the eight sectors– or rather, enclosed the capital of Eden within its confines– were as old as Eden itself. Each gate was colossal and identical in its built but with a unique carving on it that was representative of its sector.

Since Sector 1 was known for Maddox and Co., the famous luxury jewellery shop that was established by the royals of Eden who were big fans of diamonds, the gate had diamond shaped carvings on it to honour the memory of the shop’s origin. It truly was a magnificent sight and it was your first time seeing the gate so you couldn’t help but peek through the window as you crossed the invisible line that indicated your entry into the capital.

It was just as fascinating to enter Edenary as an outsider from Sector 1, of all the sectors. Any person belonging to the upper class usually resided in Sector 2 if not in Edenary. Sector 2, situated in the western region of Eden, was home to the monarchy once and had the Royal Palace in its heart. The Royal Palace was now a government office, sort of an unofficial parliament house after the monarchy was abolished. Sector 2 could have been your home if your life had taken a different course of events.

If the other passengers in the car noticed your enthusiasm, they didn’t comment on it. Seonghwa, however, could not hold back the light chuckle when you turned in your seat to watch the gates close from the rear window. The leather seats of Hongjoong’s Bentley car suddenly felt too hot– or perhaps, it was the embarrassment seeping into the seats through your body.

“What?” You retorted, your lips curling into a pout in embarrassment as you tried to match the gaze of the underboss who was seated on your left, clad in a classic tweed suit. “It’s my first time seeing the Sector 1 gate.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Seonghwa raised his hands in surrender, an amused smile plastered on his face. Hongjoong, who was seated in the front, spared you both a glance from his half-nap and let out his signature scoff.

“Seonghwa had a worse reaction when we first saw the gate. He’s probably reminiscing, let him be,” the boss said and Taeyong, the boss’ bodyguard and designated driver of sorts, laughed in agreement.

“He wanted to take a moment to admire, which meant the moment could last half an hour, so I had to physically restrain him,” Taeyong recalled. “He was salty with me for two whole days.”

“I wasn’t,” Seonghwa muttered and you were once again surprised by the almost childish banter that ensued. It really was a rare sight to have the boss and the underboss of the Crescent Company quibbling, and even better that their crew members like Taeyong were on almost casual terms with the Crescents. You were suddenly reminded of Jaemin, the young informant who everyone at the office adored.

The Crescents truly were different and so human, and you wished they did more to mend their reputation.

You resorted to watching out of the window while the men chatted. The bare deciduous trees that bordered the highway started to thin as you drew closer to the heart of the capital, revealing more familiar sights of civilization– farmhouses, shops, and warehouses. Before you knew it, you were in the middle of the town where most of the offices and government buildings were located and where the elites of Eden resided.

You quietly let the dreary, almost lifeless colours of Edenary imprint on your eyes, making silent notes of what changed since the past few years that you stepped in Edenary, which was not much. Just less nature and more artificial spaces. The people sauntering in the streets still looked as pompous as ever, dressed to the max, too absorbed in the newspaper in their hand or occupied with the pet they were walking.

“The Eden Dome,” Hongjoong’s caught your attention, prompting you to tilt your head to look at the building through the front– the magnificent presidential office with a washed out cerulean blue dome in the middle. The dome along with the accents of gold on the building seemed to be the only colour in Edenary.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like to you. The Eden Dome was President Lee’s office. Your father’s workplace.

The road curved around the domed building and opened to Eden Square, a large fountain in the middle marking the heart of the capital. You steered towards the left to the residential area where you would be staying in an apartment owned by Hongjoong. One of his crew members, Jaehyun, was a resident there along with a young guard who went by the name ‘Ten’. They were supposedly in charge of handling the Crescents’ Edenary affairs (and spying).

As the car came to a halt in front of one of the many apartment buildings, you could almost see yourself as Park y/n, the daughter of a businessman running an errand for her father, scrambling through the streets with documents in her hands, the hat on her head threatening to fall off with the wind. You were almost back to being the twenty-one year old who did anything and everything to earn at least one phrase of acknowledgment from her father.

Oh, how you wished your father would look past your birth status and see that you, too, were capable of great things. Things that even his son wasn’t capable of. He could have given you one chance, and everything would have been different–

“Luna?”

It was your boss’ voice that reminded you that you were no longer related to Secretary Park. That you were almost his rival now. Seven years wasn’t a short amount of time and things would never go back to what they were before.

You shivered involuntarily and nodded to let the boss know that you were okay before grabbing your things and following the men inside the building.

Somehow, your heart raced with anticipation– not to meet perhaps the most famous businesswoman in the continent, or to finally be a part of the Edenary crowd, but to see the unfiltered rage behind your father’s eyes when he would see you standing with the leaders of the most extensive underground organisation of Eden.

You missed Yunho.

Or rather, his warning about the Edenary crowd echoed in your head. You once mentioned to him that you kind of missed the feeling of being an Edenary citizen and how you always wanted to attend one of the business parties that your father was always talking about. He had initially found it amusing and you wondered why, but his words were starting to make sense now. He was right to believe that the Edenary crowd was overwhelming and that they watched every move you made as if they were vultures, waiting for a chance to grab a bite.

It was suffocating, and you almost wished you were back at the office or having late night snacks with your roommate Wendy.

It was ultimately Seonghwa’s presence in the room, constant and reassuring, that calmed you. He would catch your eye and exchange a subtle nod, or smile in a way that was only meant for your eyes. Whenever he would pass by you, he would pat your cheek or squeeze your shoulder, silently praising you for your performance here. After all, everyone in the building tonight was a performer, masking their schemes and presenting a carefully crafted facade.

While Seonghwa’s presence in your peripheral vision calmed you, it was Hongjoong who kept you grounded and focused. You were Hongjoong’s partner tonight. Before your arrival here when you were getting ready for the event, Hongjoong had knocked on your door and entered with a satisfied smile when he found you standing straight and proud in front of the mirror, practising your posture.

“I was half-sure you’d be moping in a corner but Seonghwa was right. You look lovely.”

You consciously tugged at the silk fabric of your black dress, thanking him and looking back at your reflection. You decided that you did not have to be from Edenary to look like you belonged here– Hongjoong was proof of that. Dressed in a fancy black suit with a sequined jacket, he looked nothing short of elegant. As he stood behind you, looking at your form in the mirror, you wondered if your outfits were matching on purpose– not just you and Hongjoong, but Seonghwa as well, in his own black sequined suit. Your elbow-length gloves matched them perfectly. Even though it might be a calculative move, it felt intimate.

“I have another something for you,” Hongjoong started and you turned to him, giving him a warning look which he ignored.

“I can afford my own dresses and jewellery, Sir,” you told him, already having argued about how the ‘company’ paid for your dress tonight, but he only continued to wave the small package in his hand and you reluctantly took it, opening the box inside to find a pearl necklace.

“Kim Hongjoong,” you called his full name for the first time out loud, making him chuckle deeply. “Tell me you rented this.”

“I got it for you,” he corrected.

“But… it’s Maddox and Co.,” you almost cried, knowing how valuable it must have been. “You can’t keep giving me things like this.”

“And who says I can’t?” He raised a brow. “I always get something for the boys. I can get things for you too.”

When you only responded with another glare, he let out a dismissive huff and proceeded to pick the necklace from the box, beckoning you to turn. Hesitantly, you did and swept your curls up so he could put the necklace on for you. When he was done fastening it, he placed his hands on your shoulders, admiring how the pearl sat between your collarbones.

You could not complain– it was absolutely magnificent.

“It matches your ring,” he said with a wicked grin and you scoffed in disbelief. He got you that necklace not only to match with your ring, but to let Secretary Park know that the ring wasn’t the only valuable thing in your possession anymore. Somehow, that did nothing to ease your nerves, though when Hongjoong squeezed your bare shoulders, you smiled in acceptance. You could wear this tonight.

“Remember to stand tall just like this,” Hongjoong said before letting go. “And stay by my side. You’re not a bookkeeper or a secretary tonight– or even anymore. You’re just Luna of The Crescent Company, got it? You’ll make a name for yourself tonight.”

“I don’t understand why you’re allowing me to,” you told him. It was the simple truth, a question that nagged you time and time again.

“Because darling,” Hongjoong stepped closer, almost whispering in your ear now, maintaining eye contact through the mirror. “You’re my weapon now. I’ll proudly wield you. Just like I am your shield and you’ll use me when you need protection.”

A weapon and a shield. What a pair you made. And oh, he acted like your shield alright. While introducing you to the guests at the party, he didn’t let anyone question your position in the company or your status. You were just Luna of The Crescent Company– someone important enough to have made it here. They could wonder all they want.

“Here he comes,” Hongjoong leaned forward to whisper in your ear while you were sipping on your drink, distracted by the familiar faces in the crowd, though hardly anyone recognised you.

You were at Mr. Jang’s residence, the co-owner of Eden News. He was a pretty influential person in Eden and it was always an advantage to be in his good graces. Hongjoong’s announcement made you think that he meant the host himself was here.

Except when you turned and followed the direction of his gaze, you frowned in confusion as you tried to locate the host but instead, found someone else entirely.

Secretary Park Byung Eun. Your father.

He seemed to be just as startled to see you, his gaze briefly sliding past before his attention snapped back. HIs face fell pale when he realised that your partner tonight was none other than Kim Hongjoong of The Crescent Company.

He, of course, pretended to be unfazed as he approached you, pretending as if he intended to greet Hongjoong. He could not act as if he hadn’t seen the pair of you now. Hongjoong rested his hand on your back, lightly caressing it in both reassurance and warning and you took a deep breath, the pearls around your neck suddenly feeling heavier than the fur scarf that was draped on your shoulders.

“Colonel Kim,” Secretary Park’s voice almost echoed inside your head. “Been a while.”

It had been a long time since you heard the man’s voice. You physically restrained yourself from reacting, though your resolve was starting to crumble.

“It has,” Hongjoong’s grin was giving him away. “I see you’ve met Seonghwa?”

“Always a gentleman,” your father nodded, not meeting your eyes. Even though you were right in front of him, he was pretending he could not see you.

It had always been like this. He still looked the same– clean shaven face, droopy lids and wavy hair. Perhaps, he looked a little older than the last time you saw him which was about three years ago, but he was still the same man and it irked you so much–

“Meet Luna,” Hongjoong said and your father finally met your eyes. “My partner.”

You looked at Hongjoong in surprise– partner? Perhaps, your father was just as shocked, the frown deepening on his face as he tried to grasp what Hongjoong meant by the term ‘partner’.

Hongjoong only smiled casually, his hand moving to rest on the side of your waist and your father made an impressed face.

“Partner… I see,” he looked at you, scanning your face. “Didn’t realise you were interested in business… Luna.”

A warning. Hongjoong must have sensed that, because he answered for you. “Sometimes, we don’t see what’s right in front of our eyes, isn’t that right, Mr. Park?”

When Secretary Park raised a brow, Hongjoong looked down with a laugh. “I mean… she was right in front of me for a while. It just took me a long time to figure out how valuable a partner she makes.”

“Right,” Secretary Park sighed in resignation. “But sometimes, we think too highly of someone. Sometimes, we even think too highly of ourselves, eh?”

It was the same phrase you’d heard so many times. Yet… hearing it now felt like as much of a stab as it did when you were younger.

“You must think very highly of me then,” you scoffed, unable to hold back the distaste in your tone. “I trust you got a message, recently?”

The message was the warning that Yunho had sent through his men to Secretary Park. He was not to mess with you or any of them again. Truly, your father must think highly of you if he wanted to eliminate you, right?

“Received,” he said with a fake smile before shifting his attention to the boss. “So, Colonel Kim. Who do you plan to use as bait tonight? A certain major general turned assemblyman has been sniffing in places he shouldn’t be. I trust you’ve got nothing to do with it?”

Hongjoong raised his hands in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t know anything. I tend to keep away from politics as much as I can,” he smoothly lied– he was both behind it and a bit too interested in politics recently. “I can look into it for you? If that’s what you’d like?”

“No need,” he raised his glass in toast. “Thank you very much.”

“Ah,” you huffed. “Must be something you want to keep under the covers.”

“Wouldn't you know all about that,” he narrowed his eyes. You only tightened your smile in response.

“We’re only here to get acquainted with Madame Tiffany, just like everyone else,” Hongjoong interrupted, breaking the war of glares.

“Oh, so that’s who your new business partner is going to be?” Secretary Park asked.

“If we’re lucky to make a deal, sure,” Hongjoong shrugged. “As a businessman yourself, you must know that it’s a trial and error process of meeting potential partners. It’s a shame our deal fell through.”

“Truly,” Secretary Park scoffed. “Madame Tiffany, huh? I really hope you shake hands with her then.”

While the smirk he passed you went unnoticed by Hongjoong, you recognised that expression very well. This certain curl of his lips indicated that he knew more than he let on– that he was winning and you were going to meet defeat in the worst way. You felt the hair on the back of your neck rise in warning, especially when he himself offered to introduce you both to Madame Tiffany.

You reluctantly followed the boss, Seonghwa joining you on your way to the main hall and asking if you were alright. You shrugged it off because now was not the time, though you wish you could warn the bosses that something was amiss.

You spotted Madame Tiffany, in all her glory, in the middle of the room with all eyes on her even though she was deep in a conversation with someone. Everyone seemed to be waiting to catch her attention, and truly, she looked every bit like the rumours you had heard– beautiful in her pale pink dress, elegant and strong in the way she carried herself with her confident smile and straight shoulder, naturally exuding a subtle air of power.

But you could not get the look in your father’s eyes out of your head. You had requested a background check on Madame Tiffany through Madame Cha, your aunt. As a Wonderland local, she must know if Madame Tiffany was all that she appeared to be. If there really wasn’t anything more to her and she was just a businesswoman looking to expand her empire, that would be ideal.

Secretary Park offered to introduce Hongjoong to Madame Tiffany, which was an unusual move from him. You may not have been to any of the business parties in Edenary when you lived here but you knew that your father was the type of person who would never help another person if they benefited from something. Everything that he did was meaningful and ultimately resulted in the downfall of whoever crossed his path. You often wondered why President Lee kept such a man as his secretary– perhaps, because he needed someone like him as his shield?

And then you were reminded of Hongjoong’s words. You were his weapon, and he was your shield, but you supposed that sometimes, a weapon was used to protect oneself too, just like a shield was used to strike at times.

“Mr. Kim,” Madame Tiffany shook hands with your boss. “I’m glad to have finally met you. I’ve heard so much about your business.”

Hongjoong seemed pleased. “All good things, I hope.”

“Wonderful things,” she smiled. “Especially about your contribution to Eden after the war. It’s truly remarkable.”

“Well, I look forward to our scheduled meeting tomorrow then,” Hongjoong placed a hand on his chest and bowed. “Perhaps, we’ll be able to contribute more to Eden’s wellbeing.”

“It would be an honour,” Madam Tiffany mimicked his greeting and Hongjoong spotted an acquaintance, saying he would be back in a few minutes. As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Seonghwa who was watching you carefully.

“What do you think about Madame Tiffany?”

“Seems like you’ve got something on your mind,” Seonghwa said in a low voice, shaking his head. “Not here, though. We’ll talk when we get back.”

You nodded, noticing your father at the end of the hall, beckoning you to join him in an empty room that seemed to be a study. You looked at Seonghwa. “Can I go talk to my father?”

“Of course, love. Are you sure?” He asked, tucking a curl behind your ear. “If you want me to come with you, I can. Or if you don’t want to talk to him, I can let him know–”

“No, I… I should talk. It’s been a while, and there’s a lot I haven’t said to him,” you let out a short, sad laugh. “Not the best time for confrontation but I think he’s up to something. I should do this.”

“You don’t have to,” Seonghwa insisted, holding your hand. “But if you wish to, I won’t stop you.”

You squeezed his hand to let him know that you would be okay. Taking a deep breath, you moved towards the room and went inside, keeping the door ajar just in case.

“Luna, is it now?” Secretary Park asked almost nonchalantly as he circled around the desk in the room before taking a seat.

“Yeah, but you would know all about that, wouldn’t you? Considering how you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”

“Come on,” he scoffed, sparing you a glance. “Can’t a father check on his daughter every now and then?”

“Sure,” you folded your arms and narrowed your eyes. “If by check, you mean almost killing me and the people around me, sure.”

“Well, I did order you to keep a low profile,” he reminded you. His tone was no longer playful. “But look at you. Couldn’t stay away from the spotlight in Edenary, could you?”

“You ordered me to keep a low profile and then disowned me, in case you forgot. Cut my name off from the family register and all, right? What makes you think you have any control over my life anymore?”

“You’ve always been feisty like that, y/n,” he clicked his tongue. “It could cost you a lot– but it looks like I won’t have to pull any strings now. You will bring the downfall of the company and the gangsters you love so much now.”

“If they’re gangsters, what does that make you?” You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t tell me your hands are any less dirtier than theirs.”

“Y/n,” he called in warning but you shook your head.

“Don’t ever come after me or mine again,” your voice shook as you warned him, the years of anger starting to make their way up to your throat from your gut. “Unless you want to start a war that you can never win.”

Secretary Park scoffed loudly but it soon turned into a fit of mocking laughter and you watched him clutch his stomach as he bent over, wiping his eyes.

“My dear, I wish I could tell you just what you have gotten yourself into,” he sighed, shaking his head in amusement. “But figures. You’ll be finding out soon anyway. You should have never stepped foot where you do not belong.”

Infuriated, you left the room and went straight to the table to down a drink which did nothing to calm the rage coursing through your veins. There was too much going on and you felt the urge to let it all out in the form of a scream or something worse–

“Luna,” Seonghwa’s voice sounded behind you but you didn’t turn, clutching at your glass dangerously hard. He placed a hand on your arm almost cautiously, caressing the bare skin. “Are you okay?”

“Just give me a moment,” you sniffed, looking up and willing the tears to go back inside. “I’ll be fine.”

“We’re leaving soon,” he squeezed your arm but you gently pushed his hand away before you turned to look at him. You saw a hint of hurt in his eyes and you wished you could tell him that you were only pushing him away because you were afraid you would break if he looked at you or touched you with such care.

“I’ll go sit in the car– Taeyong’s outside, right?” You asked and Seonghwa nodded, escorting you outside and waiting until he spotted Taeyong. You shut yourself inside the car and took deep breaths, hoping that by the time you would be back and having a meeting to discuss how to move forward, you would be okay.

But you were very obviously far from okay. The car ride was awfully silent and Hongjoong seemed to have an inkling of your meeting with your father which was why he did not initiate a conversation. When you were back at the empty apartment, the three of you settled in the living room and Hongjoong lit his pipe.

“Any luck with the assemblymen, Seonghwa?”

“Since the elections are near, they’re being cautious,” Seonghwa loosened his tie as he spoke. “But I did get an idea of the political tide. It’s still in President Lee’s favour and there's a high chance he would be re-elected unless a scandal breaks out. But then… his image is too clean. I met General Wi as well. He said something about how he’s losing votes because of the Siren Rebel Party. He’s almost sure one of the rival politicians might be funding them so he can be out of the game– he is the second in lead right now.”

“Yeah, General Wi is desperate now. I’d honestly like to see some change too– President Lee should retire before someone digs up something about him and tarnish his image,” Hongjoong said, taking a long smoke and looking at you. “What do you think, Luna?”

“About?”

“Everything,” he put his pipe away. “What do you have to say about tonight? Do you think Madame Tiffany will make a good business partner?”

“I’m not sure, just like you,” you began and he nodded. “But… it was strange how Secretary Park reacted. He’s never the type of person to be a middleman in a potential deal, yet he was so willing to introduce the two of you. Madame Tiffany and him seem to be acquainted already– which, okay, they’re both business owners. But when I was talking to him in person,” you looked at Seonghwa who urged you to continue. “He said something about how I’ll soon be finding out what I have gotten myself into, and that… I would bring the downfall of the Crescents? I’m not quite sure if he was just saying this to rile me up or if he meant it.”

“Hmm… sounds like empty threats to me.”

“They’re not,” you shook your head. “He always means what he says. And I would like to warn you that when we meet Madame Tiffany tomorrow, keep in mind that they may be acquainted in more ways than they let on. If Madame Tiffany is in cahoots with Secretary Park… that could be the downfall he was talking about.”

“I have a feeling he said all of that just so you could try and stop me from making the deal with Tiffany,” Hongjoong said. Seonghwa hummed in agreement. He could not deny that Hongjoong’s logic made sense too. “We have to entertain this possibility too. We’ve done our background check and everything seems okay, which is why we’re here in the first place.”

“Well, I still haven’t heard from Madame Cha, which means she’s looking into it,” you said determinedly. “She’s got connections with the underground channels in Wonderland and will be able to confirm if Madame Tiffany is good news or not.”

“We might not hear back from your aunt though,” Hongjoong shrugged.

“We will,” you insisted. “And if you rush, you might be doing exactly what Secretary Park wants you to do.”

“Well, you know what I think?” Hongjoong scoffed, leaning forward. “I think you’re letting your emotions regarding your father influence your judgement.”

“We must consider every possibility,” you said through gritted teeth, the emotions you had tried so hard to suppress making their way right back. “And Madame Tiffany is here for a few weeks. We can wait it out before we shake hands with her.”

“And miss a golden opportunity?” Hongjoong tsk-ed.

“Remember that you missed your ‘golden opportunity’ when I warned you about Secretary Park,” you said and Seonghwa cleared his throat, wanting to calm the tension in the room but you and Hongjoong ignored it. “It could have cost you everything.”

“Luna, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but we are an old criminal organisation and we do not need to rely on your imposing opinions to save ourselves. We have other means,” Hongjoong reminded you and you settled back in resignation. “I will consider your words, but the decision is ultimately mine.”

Seonghwa grunted in warning but the damage had been done.

“Right,” you bit your lips, your vision getting blurry. “For a second, you sounded exactly like the person I’ve been running away from. All that talk about being your partner but that’s what my opinions are to you? Imposing?”

Hongjoong realised that he had said too much that he didn’t really mean, or that he should have worded it differently. The vulnerability in your eyes made his stomach curl with regret. He glanced at Seonghwa who looked like he wanted to get up and comfort you but before he could do anything, you muttered that you were retiring for the night and went to your room.

Seonghwa sighed, looking at his partner. “Well done. Impressive way to handle the situation, Joong.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Hongjoong angrily sucked the pipe. “I meant it.”

“But you regret it,” Seonghwa was smiling. Hongjoong spared him a glance. “Bad timing. She wasn’t alright after the meeting with her father, I told you.”

“Both sides of the coin, Hwa,” Hongjoong said. “Mine and hers. It’s going to be your decision– I can’t deal with her right now.”

“Yeah, you’re smitten,” Seonghwa laughed. “And you don’t know what to do about it for once. You always make a fool out of yourself when you’re like this.”

Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa angrily but when Seonghwa walked to him and caressed his hand, he calmed down. Hongjoong sighed deeply.

“Has my heart hardened far too much for my own good?”

Seonghwa only shook his head. “I know why this deal means so much to you. But she’s right– we have to be cautious and consider every factor. With this Strictland business, we’re realising that even we do not fully know what’s happening in the underworld, right?”

“She’s a part of the Crescents now,” Hongjoong said. “I’m trying to hone her critical thinking skills. She needs that in order to survive– especially where it concerns Secretary Park.”

“He’s still her only family,” Seonghwa reminded him. “Let’s cut her some slack. I’ll go talk to her, okay?”

When you heard the familiar soft knocks on your door, you wished you had locked the room– you were in no state to be seen, crouching in a corner with tears running down your eyes and your gloves and scarf sprawled on the floor near you. You did not respond to the knocks.

“Luna? Can you please open the door for me?”

You sniffed and took a deep breath. “I’m fine. It’s okay.”

“Please?” He said. “I won’t leave until you do.”

“Lord, give me strength,” you muttered under your breath. “Come in.”

Seonghwa hesitantly opened the door, looking around and finding you in the corner next to the vanity, wiping your eyes. “Good heavens, Luna.”

“I told you I was fine,” you said, laughing at your own comment and he chuckled as he settled down on his knees in front of you. You hid your face in your hands, a fresh stream of tears running down your face. “I’m not crying because of the boss.”

“You can curse at him if you want. It can be our little secret,” Seonghwa said and you shook your head. “Also, you can call him Hongjoong. You don’t always have to address him so formally.”

“Okay, Mr. Park.”

“Seonghwa for you,” he tsk-ed. “Look at me. Come on, talk to me. What happened earlier?”

“I don’t know,” you wiped your eyes, looking at your hands and sighing– your mascara must be smudged everywhere on your face. “I didn’t expect it to be so… anticlimactic, the meeting with my father. All he had to offer was threats and warnings. I don’t understand how he can be so cruel towards me.”

“Was there something else you were expecting from him?” Seonghwa asked softly, caressing your hand.

“Not really, but… at least a ‘good to see you’re well’? But then, he wants me dead so maybe I’ve been stupid to expect that.”

“Oh, dear,” Seonghwa pulled you closer, prompting you to settle on your knees instead of keeping them upright as a barrier between you two. “Tell me you said something he deserved to hear.”

“I did,” you sniffed. “I told him not to come after me or mine ever again unless he wants to start a war he can never win.”

A smirk creeped up the underboss’ lips, sending a stirring of nerves in your stomach. “Me or mine, huh?”

“I had to say something–”

“You did well,” Seonghwa said, cupping your face and wiping your eyes, nodding in acknowledgement. “You did so well, love. And I’m glad you stayed strong. You don’t ever have to break in front of your father anymore. You can break in front of me, in front of any of us but– never him.”

You looked at Seonghwa, truly looked at him. His eyes glinted with a million unsaid things, but even in the dim light of the lamp, you could tell that they held admiration and something like pride. Something you always wished to see in someone’s eyes when they looked at you.

“Why do you cry, love?” He asked, wiping the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks. You didn’t even realise that you were crying silently now.

“I don’t know,” you told him. “Seonghwa– can I really break in front of you?”

Something unreadable flickered across Seonghwa’s face. “You can. With me, or Hongjoong, or any of us, you can be yourself. We’re here– I’m here for you. You never have to feel alone again.”

You tightened your lips, stifling a sob. Seonghwa only smiled, scooting closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. You let out a shaky breath and then went still as he kissed your cheek.

“Won’t you look at me?”

The deep timbre of his voice sounded inside your skull. You kept your eyes shut and he wiped the remnants of the tears away from your lashes before kissing both your eyelids, his soft lips like feathers of an angel's wing shielding you from everything that hurt you. Your hands tangled in his shirt as he continued to pepper light kisses all over your face, the sound of his breath making your heart flutter uncontrollably. However, he stopped right when he kissed near your mouth, his hands almost shaking as he cradled your jaw and pulled back to gauge your reaction.

“Look at me.”

“I’m scared,” you opened your eyes and your gaze stuck on his plump lips. “I don’t understand why you all want me. I don’t understand why we’re here, like this.”

He only smiled in answer. “Is it too much?”

“That’s the thing,” you scoffed in disbelief. “I don’t think it is.”

Seonghwa sucked in a breath, his grip on your neck tightening just a fraction though you spotted hesitation in his eyes. Before you knew it, you were leaning forwards– or perhaps, he was the one who closed the distance between your lips, instantly leaning into you with a force that had you resigning back against the wall. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair– god, he was a good kisser and he wasn’t letting you breathe for one second.

He broke apart for breath, only to tilt his face and kiss you at a different angle and you moaned into the kiss, unintentionally tugging at the length of his hair that made him bite your lower lip. You couldn’t help but think of the way Yunho had kissed you the last time in the office just as desperately, if not more. Yet with Seonghwa, it felt so different, especially the way he held your face and sucked at your lower lip.

With a peck to his lips, you drew away, almost sobbing again at the way he looked like he needed to kiss you again– he met your eyes, conveying that and you let him kiss you softly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered and he shook his head.

“What for?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed and pursed your lips. “I need to figure out my feelings, Seonghwa. I can’t go around kissing any one of you.”

Seonghwa chuckled. “But you can–”

You shook your head adamantly though his permission made your head spin. “Give me some time.”

Seonghwa exhaled, nodding. “Alright. I can do that.”

A moment passed where the two of you simply stared at each other’s eyes, trying to navigate through the storm of emotions clouding them. You were so close that you could hear his soft breaths and the warmth emanating from his body felt welcoming, almost compelling you to come closer.

“Do you want me?” You asked in a soft whisper and he almost choked on his own breath.

“You can’t just ask that all of a sudden,” he gave you a pained smile. “Are you ready to hear the answer?”

Oh, they were messing with you for sure. There was no way Yeosang and Yunho also had the same thing to say. “There’s no bet going around, is there?”

“We would never do that,” his assertive tone was an answer enough. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Luna, but we… we’re a really tightly-knit group. We value relationships. And you’re a part of our group now, yeah? We don’t want to do anything to jeopardise our relationship with you.”

“And this…” you looked at the small distance between you two. “This won’t jeopardise it?”

“It’s not that complicated, if you’re willing to hear us out,” Seonghwa settled back, playing with the hem of your dress. “We’re just… one. We’re a single unit, if you will. We’ve been through a lot together, and we continue to walk together. You can be a part of that, or you can just continue being our little secretary,” he chuckled and you laughed lightly. “It’s up to you.”

“I’ll… I’m thinking about it, I really am, but most of all, I’m just preparing myself to hear it from one of you,” you admitted and he suddenly looked hopeful. “But you– the boys, all of you. You’re close in more ways than you show it. Am I right?”

He smiled in answer. “Is it obvious?”

“It really isn’t,” you frowned through your smile, wondering if he was admitting it. “Seonghwa… this won’t change us, will it? This won’t doom us, right?”

“It won’t,” he assured you. “And we won’t let it. It can be your salvation if you want it to be, or your doom if you let it be.”

“Geez, thanks for that,” you said.

Your teasing and laughter grew louder, filling the space in the living room where Hongjoong was still present. He gulped down the last of his drink and set the glass on the table with a smile he would never let anyone see.

next chapter

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taglist pt 1:

@lorensonebraincell @sungbeam @waywardstaytiny @lluvia1415 @woohwababes @jjaemasung @fruithoughts @fancypeacepersona @propinquitypsithurism @kyomiingi @ateezswonderland @janetsarttrove @thenopekid @justconniez @daniela-f-uwu @hwasbestlover @vcutparis @missbangtangirl @zaynsfl4m3s @beabatiny @slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @alliethequeen @lavishloving @haowonbins @franbowesax @klllerwaifu @katerade23 @selfishw4ltz @paramedicnerd004 @atzlordz @curse-of-art @meowmeeps @intowxnderland @faeriehwa @staytiny-yaps @ishz @dumplingsyum @bunnychui @kandy108 @chanst1ddies @softsanglix @yongility @sang-09 @sweetinsaniiity @a-teez-4-exo @omgsuperstarg @saintriots @bihwabi @pshwifey @emotionallyanaemic

#if you want to reblog pls reblog the original post where i fixed the warnings dkfhgfjd #ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #poly ateez #ateez ot8 x reader #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa angst #yunho x reader #yunho angst #yunho fluff #yeosang x reader #yeosang angst #ateez ot8 #ateez series #ateez mafia au

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zorostitties · 1 month ago

Text

Aurora; 8 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 9k

A/N: HAPPY ONE MONTH ANNIVERSARY TO AURORA!!! I can't even believe I got this far with this fic. Fucking 50k+ words in a month??? Hyperfixation REALLY go boom! It also happens to be my birthday today 🫠 my age is definitely starting to sound WAY TOO SERIOUS now. welp. ANYWAYS - an anon motivated me to create a playlist for aurora, so here it is!!! These are some of the songs that I listen on repeat when I'm writing. Not all of the lyrics have anything to do with the story tho, some just match the vibe of the fic. Though, if I had to choose a "theme song" for Aurora, it'd definitely be Darkness At The Heart of My Love - Ghost. I know metal isn't everybody's cup of tea but in my brain, vampires = metal. And specifically Castlevania = Rammstein for some reason lmao. Anyway!! I hope you guys give it at least (1) listen, as I really think the playlist encapsules the vibes I'm trying to portray in my writing very well. ANYWAYS!!! LET ME SHUT UP!! ENJOY THIS BEAST OF A CHAPTER <3

⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

? Years Ago

Jerash, Ottoman Empire

The moon was hidden behind heavy storm clouds that night.

The rain whipped against the walls and ceiling of the humble house. It consisted of only two rooms – the kitchen and a tiny bedroom with simple wooden furniture. One would consider it the house of a common peasant, but the hundreds of books piled over one another indicated otherwise. They were everywhere: over the table, stored on shelves, precarious bookcases and boxes… some looked ancient, some looked new. Some had intricate leather covers, beautiful handwriting and illustrations, while others were nothing but a bunch of pages with incomprehensible scribbles. It was even difficult to walk into the house without stepping over one.

The place smelled of spices. Many types of dried herbs were hanging around the kitchen. Different types of stones of all colors and sizes rested over the closed windowsill: quartz, crystals, amethysts, obsidian, malachites… colorful bird feathers were tied by threads in intricate designs, also hanging from the ceiling. All of that was supposed to provide “protection” against the “evil”, apparently.

Drolta hated that place.

No… hate was too strong of a word. To hate someone or something, you must care about it enough, and Drolta didn’t. She was… disgusted. All the dirt, the simplicity, the cheap magic that wouldn’t even hurt a fly… it was boring.

And the owner of that house was especially disgusting.

That short, bald creature finally appeared from inside the bedroom, carrying a heavy book in hands and an annoying large smile. When all this ended – and hopefully it would end very soon –, Drolta would make sure to kill this little man and take a long, really long bath to take his smell off her skin. She didn’t even plan on feeding off him. He didn’t deserve it. Drolta refused to drink from a neck that wasn’t soft, young and feminine.

“Here it is. The product of all of my researches over the years,” he claimed proudly. What was even his name? Was it Khalil? She didn’t remember. Before looking at her face, his eyes stopped for two seconds on her cleavage. He did it every time and hadn’t been trying to hide it ever since Drolta stepped foot into this thing he called home.

Men… oh, how easy men are. Drolta witnessed multiple changes in the world during her long lifetime. She saw empires rise and fall, cultures cease to exist, philosophies and religions sweep the Earth. But one thing that had never changed over all this time was the simplicity of men. All she needed to do was put on a tighter corset, a deeper cleavage… and she had him on the palm of her hand. Drolta didn’t even need to try much much harder. This little Khalil man was the type she despised the most: the needy type. Never got married. Judged too strange by his fellow villagers. Probably never felt the touch of a woman. He was desperate.

But he had something that Drolta valued after all: knowledge. There was a time when the world was full of magicians. Speakers, priestesses, witches, oracles, shamans, alchemists… actual scholars of the ways of magic. But that was before the fucking Church. Now, apparently, all humans knew how to do was kneel and pray for a God that could not grant them any power.

Drolta was aware that she was partially at fault in all this. However, she would redeem herself soon.

When she finally succeeded in bringing Sekhmet back to life, this Earth would know what a real Goddess is. A Goddess with real power, real impact, who could bring real fear and obedience and adoration.

Soon, she thought to herself. I can feel it. She will come back soon. I will bring her back soon.

So many centuries of preparation. So many sun cycles searching for the right candidate. She had finally, finally encountered someone whose body managed to withstand Sekhmet’s power. Erszebet Bathory grew more powerful every day; the holy blood she drank was slowly but surely changing her body, her soul, empowering her. Drolta could feel Sekhmet’s presence in this world getting stronger. She could feel her goddess through Erszebet, talking through her, striving to resurface through that vessel. Everything was going so well.

And yet – all of her effort was still not enough, because half of Sekhmet’s soul was still missing.

Aside from taking care of the vessel, Drolta and her sisters roamed Earth after the Ba – Sekhmet’s mummy. For some reason, it was always out of reach: stolen from someone, bought by someone, then stolen again, then auctioned… Drolta was always too late. She prayed, prayed, prayed ardently that her beloved Goddess would help her from the other side, give her a sign, maybe twist things a bit so she could have a chance… but oh, she knew her Goddess was too weak to help. Drolta knew she would have to find a way.

And although all odds seemed to be working against her, Drolta found another way. Drolta thought of another chance.

As far as her associates scattered around the world knew, the mummy was lost forever. She completely lost track of it somewhere in the Horn of Africa; the last news she heard about it was years ago. As much as Drolta despised the idea – as much as she’d like to personally torture whoever committed such blasphemy towards the body of Sekhmet –, she had to be realistic and assume that the mummy was, perhaps, definitely gone.

But Drolta wouldn’t let herself be drowned by despair. No. Despair was the enemy of reason. She had to be strong – for Sekhmet, for her sisters, for her goal.

So another idea grew into her mind.

Drolta was under possession of Sekhmet’s blood, the Ka; the Goddess’ Ba, the mummy, was out of reach.

And then there was the third piece of her soul which was also out of reach.

Except… maybe it wasn’t.

Maybe there was a way to reach into it.

Yes, she knew no one had ever managed to do it. Yes, she knew the possibility of failure was high. Yes, she knew that, perhaps, it was all but a delusion. However, Drolta couldn’t be sure without trying first. If there was even the smallest possibility of it working, she would go on with it.

She had to do it – and do it fast. Drolta had never met anyone that could take so much of Sekhmet’s blood, but even her couldn’t take much more; the Goddess needed her other half.She could not lose Erszebet; she would do anything in her power to keep that woman safe.

Which led Drolta to this annoying mortal man.

He was disgusting. He smelled bad. He had the audacity of assuming he was going to fuck her. And still, he was an alchemist – and there weren’t many alchemists in the world anymore. Not good ones, at least. Drolta wasted her time going after a famous alchemist in China months ago, but she turned out to be a charlatan. As far as Drolta knew, this one was real. Maybe not powerful like mortal alchemists used to be, but he could do the job.

“From the information I have gathered, it hasn’t been tried in centuries,” Khalil spoke with amazement and reverence. It truly was the work of his life, apparently. “Not many scholars even believe it happened, in fact… it is under deep discussion. However, the ones that believe it, report that the occurrence happened in Wallachia, when a certain alchemist tried to… well…”

Khalil averted his eyes, seeming embarrassed and hesitant. Oh, the traits of a man that has been laughed at and ridiculed his entire life. Drolta felt grateful that he was this way. Much easier to deal with.

She rested her hand on his forearm and looked at him with round, curious eyes – even though she already knew what he was trying to say.

“Tried to what? Please, tell me,” she asked in a honeyed voice.

Khalil probably had an erection at that moment. His face flushed and he smiled.

“Tried to bring D-Dracula back to life,” he finally let out. “Yeah, I know it sounds absurd. I-I mean, Dracula? The folk tale to scare kids? How is that even possible?”

“I don’t find it absurd at all,” Drolta said, shaking her head softly. “Please, continue.”

The man averted his gaze from hers sheepishly, holding the book just a tiny bit stronger.

“Y-You are the first person to ever take me seriously, Miss Danubia,” Danubia? Oh… it’s the name she made up for herself. She had almost forgotten. “I… I really appreciate it.”

What, are you going to cry? Spare me.

Drolta caressed his arm softly.

“I admire your intelligence. I’d sit with you and talk for hours about all of your discoveries,” the idea sickened her, in fact. But Drolta couldn’t just force him to do anything. As far as she knew, the entire process had to be done willingly, otherwise it wouldn’t work.

For fuck’s sake, it really looked like he wanted to cry. Khalil blinked rapidly and looked down at the book again.

“Apparently, the portal was opened directly into Hell in order to retrieve Dracula’s soul. But it’s entirely possible that, through this same ritual, I could try to reach into other realms, too…” For the first time, Khalil looked hesitant. He gulped. “Though, if I’m to be completely honest, Miss Danubia, I do not believe I have the expertise needed to lead such a powerful ritual.”

Drolta stepped back, letting go of his forearm.

Khalil looked up at her, slightly startled at her sudden lack of touch.

But then, Drolta looked down, putting her hands over her chest and…

Tears welled up her eyes.

“I-I wish you could understand my pain and my despair, Khalil,” she started, voice trembling. “My mother… my dear mother. I could never tell her goodbye before her death. She had such a painful, slow death…” Drolta looked at him again, a single tear streaming down her cheek. “I do not wish to retrieve her soul, Khalil; I understand this goes against the laws of nature. I just want to… talk to her. In my culture, we believe that the souls of our deceased goes to the duat. If I can just get a peek of it… just look at her face once more… you will have my eternal gratitude. I-I can’t let this chance go by…”

Drolta covered her mouth and sobbed. With the corner of her eyes, she saw Khalil rush to put the heavy book over the table and bring her a handkerchief. She didn’t want to put that stinky thing near her face, but took it anyway and wiped her tears delicately.

Khalil pressed his lips together. All the hesitance was gone, being replaced by determination.

“I believe I can do it, Miss Danubia.” He inhaled before speaking. “The g-good feelings I have for you will be my guide and shield.”

Drolta offered him a sweet smile and a fragile thank you.

Khalil took off his coat and pushed the small table to the farthest corner of the room. He then took a piece of white chalk and started to draw something on the floor.

“This is the symbol of Osiris, Egyptian god of the Underworld… or the duat,” he explained while he drew. As if Drolta didn’t already know it. Yet, she acted shocked, trying to engage him in conversation as he lit a circle of candles around the hieroglyph. She needed him content and willing. Mortals work better when they are in their best feelings; they tend to put much more of their force into what they are doing, and this, in magic terms, was extremely meaningful.

Drolta loathed the fact that she needed this man happy to achieve her goal, but it was necessary. Well, if not happy, then hard. Sexual energy can also be extremely powerful.

After Khalil finished his preparations for the ritual, Drolta approached him and held his hand.

The man visibly held his breath.

It was so easy for her to send him that sweet gaze. So easy to trap his entire attention on her, as if Drolta became the very air in his lungs. She leaned down slightly and pressed her soft lips on his cheek, making sure to stay there a second longer than necessary, before leaning away a delivering a smile that showed quiet sadness and care.

“If you succeed, Khalil, you will have my heart eternally,” she purred in an almost whisper.

He was shocked.

It really looked like he couldn’t breathe.

Finally, he managed to crack a smile. He puffed his chest like a pathetic male bird and nodded as Drolta stepped away.

“I will, my lady. For you.”

She held back laughter.

Finally, Khalil took his heavy book again and stood near the candle ring. The flames projected eerie shadows around the walls; the outside storm was everything they could hear. He placed the book in front of his feet and took a small knife from his pocket.

“Blood is required to initiate the ritual,” he explained. “You can look away if it makes you uncomfortable, my lady.”

Khalil didn’t see when she rolled her eyes this time.

He swiped the knife on his palm, wincing in pain as he did. Weak little human, can’t even stand a cut without crying. He let blood drip over the symbol on the floor before walking back to the candle ring and taking the book in his hands once more.

He took a deep breath before finally initiating the spell.

His pronunciation of Akkadian was bad. Laughable, even. Drolta could barely understand half of the words. And yet, it was enough.

The candles trembled. The air within the house got colder. Drolta felt the floor beneath her feet shake slightly, the air vibrate in a high frequency – the frequency of high magic.

It was working.

A grin slowly grew on her lips. She… underestimated this little man after all. He was an actual alchemist – but the ritual was only working because of her efforts, she realized. Khalil was putting all of his love into the spell. Yes, actual love. How such a naive creature fell in love with her so quickly after a few days of knowing each other was beyond her.

Love is also extremely powerful in magical terms.

The storm grew angrier out there. A thunder so loud and so close shook the entire house, made Khalil lost his focus for a second before continuing to read the spell.

Followed by another thunder – even closer this time.

And another thunder.

The ground shook. Some books fell from the shelves. Khalil lifted his head and looked towards the window.

There was another sound mixed within the cacophony of the heavy storm.

Screams.

What was that out there? Was the house of his neighbor burning?

“W-What is–?” Khalil stuttered.

He hadn’t noticed that Drolta was towering right behind him. How did she get so close so fast?

She held his head with both hands from behind, guiding it down towards the book again.

“Keep reading,” she instructed in a quiet whisper, her mouth close to his ear.

A violent shiver ran down Khalil’s spine.

For the first time, Drolta’s presence made him feel uneasy. Her voice changed drastically; it wasn’t welcoming anymore, or warm, or caring. It was just freezing cold. It… it didn’t even sound much human.

All these talismans he hung around his house for protection – and yet the worst evil he could possibly imagine was standing right behind him, welcomed by him with open arms.

Another thunder. Another fire. Another house burning down. A few more souls to fuel the spell.

Khalil could be a real alchemist, but he was far from being a good one, Drolta remarked to herself. All of those books taught him nothing – again, she had to do most of the job. In the few days she worked on gaining his trust, she also made sure to mark every house in the village of Jerash with the symbol or Osiris. Marked it with virgin blood to make it even more effective.

Every respectable alchemist knew that in order to open a door into the Infinite Corridor, multiple mortal lives were required. That is why most alchemists weren’t brave enough to do it.

Khalil wouldn’t be brave enough to do it too if he knew what it’d cost. That is why Drolta lured him into it and made the preparations behind his back.

Drolta chuckled. How he must had been feeling at that moment, knowing he sacrificed hundreds of lives of his fellow villagers in the hopes of sticking his tiny penis inside of her?

“I told you to keep reading,” she repeated, and this time her voice sounded like a dangerous hiss.

Khalil’s hands trembled. He gulped. His voice wasn’t as confident anymore, but he had already initiated the ritual; there was no coming back from there.

The floor shook as more souls were reaped into the spell. Suddenly, the windows opened all at once; the ceiling cracked and was swiped away by a violent gush of wind. Drolta looked up in time to see a funnel of souls converging into a single streak of red light, being attracted by the symbol of Osiris on the floor; they made a twister within the circle of candles that were somehow still lit despite everything.

Wind and rain whipped Drolta and Khalil, made his books fly in all directions. None of that bothered Drolta. She had a maniacal grin on her lips, eyes locked in the chaos unveiling in front of her eyes.

Finally, finally, finally, a white crack slashed the air inside the candle ring. A crack in reality itself.

Freezing cold wind came out of it. The crack was slowly but surely getting wider. It made Drolta’s eyes widen, shivers run her body; few times in her life did she witness magic so powerful, so strong, so chilling.

It was working. It was finally working.

She stepped aside from a shell-shocked Khalil and extended her arms in a wide movement, the smile never vanishing from her lips.

A door to the Infinite Corridor, opened right in front of her eyes.

And yet – her work wasn’t done. This door needed to be redirected; it needed to be aimed at the right place.

“Oh Sekhmet, Eye or Ra, Lady of Terror, Mistress of Dread, She Who Mauls; hear mine calling, let thou be guided by the voice of thy loyal servant!” Drolta chanted with all her might, raising her voice as to be heard beyond the storm and the magic and the weeping souls.

The crack got a bit wider. Insurmountable amount of energy escaped from inside. Drolta didn’t even know if Khalil could stand in front of it much longer, given how weak he was, so she needed to rush.

“Hear mine call, Your Magnificence!” Drolta continued, gesticulating in wide movements. “Let mine voice guide thee through the waters of the primordial abyss; let thy Akh resurface in the land of the living. Oh Sekhmet, Lady of Slaughter, She of Ten Thousand Names; walk back into thy rightful realm, retake the throne unfairly taken from thee, wear thy rightful crown once more!”

The crack got wider, wider, wider. It was difficult to understand what could be seen inside of it; it looked like a confusing kaleidoscope. Different images jumped in the blink of an eye, landscapes not even Drolta could understand. And yet, she kept chanting, hoping her energy would be the necessary guide. The mark of Osiris burned in bright red.

Finally – the image within the crack seemed to stabilize itself.

Drolta’s eyes widened.

She saw a… calm river. A temple made of gold in the distance, sitting atop of an island. A pyramid. Purple trees adorned it; the tip of the pyramid shone with a blinding light. The most beautiful sky she had ever seen.

That was it. It was the duat.

Drolta got even more passionate in her speech; her throat ached from screaming.

“Hear mine voice, Lady Sekhmet! Hear mine voice! Come to me!” She begged. Finally, finally, finally, her goddess was right there; after years and years of searching and fighting for her and protecting her legacy and trying to find ways to revive her, after so many frustrated attempts of retrieving her mummy... Finally, Sekhmet’s Akh was right there in front of her eyes.

Finally, Drolta had succeeded.

All she needed to do was cross the door. Drolta couldn’t enter the duat, but Sekhmet could cross it towards the land of the living. Drolta held a small shabti made of pure gold in her hand, the holy object in which she could safely store the third part of Sekhmet’s soul. From there, Erzsebet would only need to incorporate it.

Come to me, Sekhmet; come to me, come to me, come to me, come to me, come to me, come to me–

Something happened.

The image twisted.

“What?” Drolta gasped.

The sight of the duat blurred.

Suddenly, the winds that whipped the house got stronger, more violent. The soul twister got more chaotic. Now, everything that could be seen within the door was the kaleidoscope of colors again, passing rapidly.

It… started to get black.

“No! No! What are you doing?!” Drolta turned to Khalil, her wrath so big that made him tremble. But the man was frozen in place, tears falling down his cheeks mixed with the rain.

“I-I-I’m not doing anything!” He stuttered. “It wasn’t me!”

Drolta turned to the door again.

The air was getting even colder. Colder, colder, colder… freezing. The Osiris symbol suddenly started to burn in black – and then everything else was black. The souls, the flames of the candles, the energy rays that poured from the door.

The air smelled of coal and sulfur.

“No! Stop! Stop!” Drolta yelled at whatever was interfering with the ritual. “I don’t want you here. I didn’t call you!”

But it was too late.

A second before the explosion, Drolta saw a dark figure walk out of the door.

She had time to protect her face with her arms. She did not care about Khalil.

Boom.

The shockwave destroyed what remained of Khalil’s house; he was sent back flying meters away. The reaped souls let their final, painful yell before dissipating in the air. The candles were extinguished in a gush of wind.

Drolta was the only thing to remain standing in place.

She lowered her arms slowly. It seemed that even the heavy storm got timid after such an unnatural occurrence. The neighbor houses still burned; the fires spread down the hill. As it wasn’t magical fire anymore, the rain started to quiet them down. No voices were heard. No more screams. No live witnesses anymore. The village of Jerash became nothing but a burning cemetery.

Drolta fell to her knees.

A shrilling scream of pure anger crossed the air.

She had failed. She got so fucking close and failed yet again. The duat was right there in front of her and she failed.

She turned around to see Khalil’s body on the floor.

Drolta got up, red anger clouding her gaze. He was still alive – hurt, bleeding and crying, but still alive.

“You stupid piece of shit!” She kicked his stomach so hard that the men rolled a few more meters away. “Useless little man. I submitted myself to your disgusting presence for days and you still didn’t serve me anything!”

Khalil coughed blood. He refused to look at her, shrinking into his own body, crying like a child.

She should skin him alive. This, at least, would serve as a way to calm down.

And yet – she stopped in her tracks.

Rain still fell over her head. She was entirely drenched. Drolta stopped and inhaled, letting her anger quiet down.

There was someone talking to her.

Something.

The air still smelled of coal and sulfur. It had nothing to do with the burning houses.

Slowly, she turned back to the circle of candles.

Her eyes widened.

There was someone laying on the floor inside the circle. She rushed towards it.

It was… it was a woman.

For a moment, overwhelming joy and excitement rushed through her veins. Could it be who she thought it was? What if she had actually succeeded, but in a different way than she first expected?

What if that was Sekhmet incarnate?!

Drolta knelt down beside the woman. She was unconscious, laid on her side, completely naked. With care – even hesitancy – Drolta turned her body around, making the woman lay on her back. She took some strands of drenched hair away from her face.

It was a young woman. Her chest moved slowly, as if she was simply asleep.

Drolta frowned.

She pressed two fingers over her neck. A regular pulse. The scent of… regular mortal blood.

Her frown deepened.

“This is no Sekhmet,” Drolta said through gritted teeth. “This is just human woman.”

Then, she lifted her gaze – and finally noticed what was talking to her.

It was nothing but a strange, tall shadow; Drolta could barely make sense of what she was looking at. But yet, that grin was very much recognizable. The entity seemed weak, vibrating in a low frequency, making the entire area around it even colder.

“Did you bring her with you?” She asked. The entity answered. It didn’t use… words. It spoke into her mind with intentions instead. Perhaps, it was way too weak to vocalize.

Drolta huffed with disdain. “And what use would this mortal have?”

The entity moved slowly, circling around them.

Drolta froze in place.

“How do you know this?” She asked in a cautious hiss.

The entity’s grin seemed to get even wider, now knowing that it had Drolta’s full attention.

It continued sliding around Drolta. The vampire lowered her head, looking at the human woman once again.

She looked and looked and looked and looked and…

She remembered.

Slowly, Drolta’s eyes widened as realization hit her.

This… wouldn’t solve all of her problems. She still needed to find the other half of Sekhmet’s soul. And yet… it could also serve her plans, in a way.

Drolta once again lifted her gaze towards the grinning shadow.

“I know you wouldn’t be offering me this out of the goodness of your heart,” she started with suspicion. “What do you want of me in return?”

The entity trembled. Drolta leaned her head slightly.

“An easy task. And if I fail?”

The entity grinned at her quietly. Drolta chuckled.

“You won’t have it, for I won’t fail.” She got up to her feet again. “But this sounds like a fair deal.”

A fair pact, in fact.

Drolta extended her arm towards the entity. It approached her; the shadow extended too in what resembled an arm. It revolved around her hand with a chilling touch.

When the shadow retreated, there was an icy object over Drolta’s palm.

A ruby necklace.

Drolta nodded at the entity; it sent her a last eerie grin before disappearing into the shadows of the night.

It was done.

Drolta looked down.

She took the cloak off her shoulders and covered the woman’s naked body with it. She leaned down, taking her into her arms, before straightening her posture again.

It… wasn’t a complete failure, after all.

Her Goddess never left her without a way out. She was always kind to send Drolta another option, another strategy, and that’s why Drolta managed to survive and move on after every problem.

“For every suffering, a wisdom is gained,” she said quietly. The mantra that had been keeping her sane for centuries.

Khalil was still weeping some meters away from her. Drolta paid him no mind. He wasn’t totally useless in the end, which meant he gained the right to keep living.

Drolta walked away from the burning cemetery of Jerash with the unconscious woman in her arms, the ruby necklace safely tangled around her palm.

The heavy storm clouds opened a small breach for the first time; the moon peeked through, being the only witness of the horrors that had unveiled that night.

Present time

Paris, France

The sun had hidden behind the horizon at least three hours ago.

You looked out the window at the full moon reigning sovereign in the sky from the tiny inn bedroom. There were barely any clouds to hinder its view. Stars adorned the space around her, creating a breathtaking view.

And yet, the air was… eerie.

Maybe because you knew what was about to come, and the fact that the rest of the city didn’t know yet made the situation horrifying. So many people were probably having dinner with their families, resting their heads over their pillows, having no idea of the hell that was about to burst upon them.

What made the situation even more difficult was that you were, well, useless in the middle of it all.

Richter and Annette were hunting nests of vampires. Alucard was about to leave to talk to the leaderships of Paris in order to organize the defensive lines. The three of them, much obviously, were ready to fight.

And you? All you had was a useless golden scepter.

Maybe you had your hopes way too high after what happened at the Louvre. You remembered what Annette told you when you first met – you might be a witch, Ruby; you just don’t remember it. You thought that, the moment you put your hands over the artifact again, you’d have some sort of epiphany. Your past would unveil itself in your head, you’d finally understand Erzsebet and Drolta’s interest in you, you’d know why you were needed to summon eclipses…

But nothing happened.

The scepter was just heavy and very impractical to carry around.

Alucard had no idea what language the inscriptions were. He advised you to not read them out loud, as it wasn’t clear the effect it could cause. You also didn’t magically understand what these words meant. So… just another frustration to add onto the pile.

“Ruby, I’m talking to you.”

You jumped and turned your head around. Alucard was standing in front of the door, searching for something in the inside pocket of his coat and eyeing you with curiosity. You adjusted your posture where you were sitting on the bed.

“I’m sorry. I… wasn’t paying attention.” You said sheepishly.

The white-haired vampire paused for a moment.

“Are you scared of being on your own?” He asked quietly.

You shook your head. “No! Not at all. I’ll be fine.” You reassured.

To be honest, being alone wasn’t exactly an idea you liked. The last three days were the safest you’d ever felt in your life, and that was because you were around them. You tried to avoid picturing the horrifying image of Drolta in her new night creature form breaking through that window and dragging you back to the chateau. There’s no way this is going to happen, not now that she retrieved Sekhmet’s mummy… I’m not needed anymore.

But the idea you liked even less was of being a burden, and you knew you’d be a burden if you kept hanging around uselessly while they fought. Annette almost died due to your mere presence. You were sure everyone would’ve handled the fight much better if you simply weren’t there. So… it’d be better if you just stayed hidden at the inn for the time being.

Alucard shrugged slightly and approached, finally revealing what he was searching for in his coat: a… red string?

He sat by your side on the bed, eyes glued on it. The only source of light came from the moon outside and a single candle holder over the desk. The light of the timid flame created a golden silhouette on his delicate features.

“The Revolutionary Commune is reunited some blocks away from here at this moment,” Alucard explained while his fingers worked on measuring the string. You watched him in silent confusion. His voice always dropped even quieter when he was close to you like that. It was… comforting. He was so close that his arm brushed on yours. “I must go warn them about the incoming fight. There will most definitely be vampires roaming the streets right now, hence why you must stay hidden for the time being.”

You nodded. “I understand.”

You watched as Alucard tied the red string around his own left wrist skillfully. How did he even manage to tie something with a single hand? That was quite impressive. “I won’t take more than two hours, however. After I assure your safety within the Revolutionary Commune, I will come to pick you up.”

Then, he brought his wrist close to his mouth; he put the remaining length of the string between his teeth and cut it using his sharp fangs.

Oh.

You couldn’t help but feel shivers run your spine whenever you remembered that Alucard had vampire fangs. He was half vampire, in fact. It was a bit strange how, as you grew comfortable around him, this “detail” became less and less relevant; you always associated vampires with the worst things possible, while Alucard was much the opposite. Perhaps that’s why it was a bit surprising to remember part of him was one.

You also had noticed that Alucard didn’t open much of his mouth when he talked… and it seemed to be a very conscious act when he was in public. You payed attention to how he talked to those boys earlier. Was it an attempt to make his fangs less obvious?

“Give me your left wrist.” He asked. You promptly obeyed. Alucard tied the remaining string around yours this time. “If anything happens, anything at all, untie this string. Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.”

You nodded, a bit surprised. “This is impressive.”

Alucard chuckled and tilted his head slightly. “You were effortlessly summoning eclipses and this is what surprises you about magic?”

The words got caught in your throat.

“Well– it is impressive.” He looked at you with a quirked eyebrow, which did not help you organize your thoughts better. “A-And I wasn’t summoning them, not exactly.”

“You’re not sure about that, are you?”

No, you weren’t.

Your shoulders dropped. Alucard chuckled again.

He finally let go of your wrist and a tiny part of you immediately missed his touch.

“Remember. Two hours. No more, no less.” He got up from the bed again and walked towards the door. “I might be asking too much from you, but I’d advise you against sleeping, too.”

“As if I’d be able to close my eyes at all,” you whined quietly to yourself.

Alucard opened the door and looked at you.

Once again, it seemed that he was about to say something. He looked… hesitant. His expression wasn’t as nonchalant as usual, but you couldn’t tell exactly why. You looked at him expectantly.

Then – this small glimpse dissolved in seconds.

“Lock the door,” he said, pointing at it with his head.

Oh.

You got up in a jump. At last, he left. You safely locked it and kept the key in the pocket of your vest.

Then, you were alone.

For the first time in your life, being alone didn’t bring you relief. You’d usually look forward to the moments you’d be locked inside your quarters again, recovering from your wounds; despite the pain, it were the only times when you had some peace. Now, however, you’d wish someone was here. You hoped Annette and Richter were safe, wherever they were…

You laid on the bed and faced the ceiling. The scepter was also over the bed, right beside you.

And you just… stayed there.

Your fingers fiddled with the red string on your left wrist mindlessly. Alucard didn’t make a complicated tie as to keep it easy to undo, so you took care to not untie it by accident. This little piece of braided wool had magic in it… but you didn’t feel anything strange while touching it.

You remembered how Alucard felt that the scepter was magic just by touching it, while for you it was just a normal object. You remembered how Richter could summon elements with his bare hands and Annette could see spirits as easily as people…. Perhaps you had no aptitude for magic at all. Perhaps they made you read that book because they needed a human to complete the summoning of an eclipse, not because you had some sort of hidden power.

You touched the scepter again without bothering to look at it. Cold and lifeless as usual.

Maybe it had that reaction – shining, the rust disappearing – because it needed someone to… awaken it. Anyone. Not you specifically.

But it must had been touched by someone before, isn’t it? Of course it was. It didn’t walk into that crate. Someone put it there.

You groaned and turned to your right side.

Minutes went by. Minutes, minutes, minutes. You were on high alert, so your eyelids didn’t feel heavy with sleep.

You laid on your stomach and brought the scepter close to your face.

These characters… you recognized them.

Alucard told you to not read them out loud, but he didn’t say anything about writing them.

You got up and rushed to the desk. There was a small drawer there with a piece of paper and some charcoal. You laid on your stomach again and started to translate the characters into the common Latin alphabet. Alucard might not recognize the characters, but what if he saw the syllables in a language he could read and the words made sense to him?

As the scepter had a lot of text and you didn’t have much paper, you tried to keep the letters as tiny as possible. You broke the charcoal a bit to make a sharper point. Your hands and the sheets got dirty with the black of the charcoal, but you couldn’t care less.

You didn’t pay attention to the time now that you had something to busy yourself with. Minutes went by. Minutes, minutes, minutes. An hour. Half an hour.

You had little free paper left and a lot to translate still when a sound out there immediately brought you back to your senses.

You froze and looked towards the window.

The street was very quiet up until that point – you even wondered if nights in Paris were always so peaceful. That sound, however, was impossible to ignore; was impossible to not make your heart immediately race.

A scream.

You got up in a jump and approached the window slowly, peeking at it with caution.

The scream came from a nearby street, followed by fast steps. Another scream. It sounded female.

No… it sounded childish.

Maybe it’s nothing. Just a kid spooked by a dog or a rat. Nothing to worry about. You shouldn’t get on your nerves every time you hear a scream.

You stood by the window for some more minutes, your heart thundering nonstop… and nothing appeared. You sighed, tried to calm your already irregular breathing. Focus on a single thing, a simple thing, to muffle everything else–

Someone running down there on the street.

You eyes widened. Your breath got completely caught in your throat.

It was a kid. A small kid, desperately running away from something. A boy. You recognized the worn out clothes and the curly black hair.

The lily in the pocket of your vest seemed to get hot.

It was Oliver.

When he disappeared from your sight, you saw what he was running from: three men. They laughed as they pursued him.

Three vampires.

You grabbed the scepter, the piece of paper and without taking a single second to think, you were already running out of the room.

The only things you could hear were your deep breathing, your thundering heartbeat and your boots rushing on the wooden pavement, then on the stone street as you rushed out of the inn. You almost fell when taking a sudden turn in the direction you saw Oliver running to. The street was completely empty and cold, but your body already felt hot from adrenaline.

You ran as fast as your legs could take. Please let me not be too late please please please please please please please please please–

Another strangled scream followed by more voices coming from an alley nearby.

You didn’t take a second to consider what you were going to do, how you were going to save him from this situation.

You just rushed into it.

“Oliver!” You screamed, stopping on your tracks.

The scene unfolding in front of you made your blood boil in a mix of anger and fright.

Oliver, the little boy, had fallen; his back was pressed against the wall. It was a dead end. His knee bled – he had probably fallen –, tears streamed down his cheeks, his pants were wet. He was shaking; his eyes, the most widened you’d ever seen.

The three vampires cornered him. They wore simple clothes, but all of them shared a similar trait: the symbol of an eclipse burned into the skin of their foreheads.

They immediately turned around at the sound of your voice.

For a moment, everyone was shocked – you, Oliver, the vampires. They were the first ones to recover.

“M-Madame!” Oliver stuttered in a strangled, horrified voice.

The vampire in the middle smirked.

“What do we have here?”

“This is even better than that bastard,” the one on the right laughed. “No one told you to not walk around at night by yourself, sweetie?”

“Leave him alone,” you blurted out. You didn’t sound that frightened, at least, because your body hadn’t properly processed what the hell you had gotten yourself into yet.

“Oh, we might now that you’re here.” One of them said with a disgusting smirk. “And what is it that you’re carrying with you? Looks interesting.”

They started to approach at slow steps.

You knew how vampires acted. They didn’t see you as a threat, so they would not use their inhuman speed. No; they wanted to savor your panic, to make you think you’d have a way out the way they did with Oliver. Vampires acted as cruel hunters, not as animal predators that acted purely on instinct and hunger.

That’s why they didn’t notice when you put your left wrist behind your back and swiftly untied the string.

I’m sorry, Alucard, you thought as the reality of that moment finally hit you. You… you did it again. You put yourself in danger again, exactly the opposite of what Alucard told you to do. But if you had waited for him, if you had untied the string at the inn and then explained what happened and then hoped that Alucard caught the vampires in time, would Oliver still be alive? Would he have an extra minute of luck?

Whatever these vampires were about to do with you – it didn’t matter. You could take it. Oliver couldn’t. The same way Annette wouldn’t have taken the night creature’s bite.

“M-Madame, run!”

His voice caught your attention again.

That little boy had wet himself in fear. He could barely stand. And yet, he was telling you to run. He was worried about your safety.

That little boy.

So small and so fragile and wearing those worn out clothes and shaking and hurt.

It brought forward an instinct within you. Perhaps that same instinct you felt when you looked at Richter’s sad expression. A will to take care. To protect. Something that run deep into your soul, something very familiar in ways you couldn’t explain, as if you had been in a similar situation in the past, as if you had felt this desperate need to protect someone small and fragile and dear to you.

These men were going to kill that little boy and he wouldn’t even be able to fight back.

This strange instinct to protect and the anger towards these men and the revolt because you had been in similar situations too, countless times, and you couldn’t do anything to fight back against a force tenfold stronger than you made your mind go blank.

Blank, blank, blank, devoid of any thought. Any fear. Any hesitance. At that moment, there wasn’t anxiety anymore. Your fingers didn’t shake. You didn’t think of any consequence.

All that existed was the need to protect that little boy.

One of the vampires approached and grabbed the scepter roughly. Instinctively, you held it with both hands, trying to pull it back.

And then – the vampire screamed.

A sizzling noise filled the alley.

“Let me go! Let me go!” He screamed.

The scepter was burning his hands. He couldn’t take them off.

Your mind didn’t register well everything that happened in the following seconds.

The moment you held it with both hands, it started to glow again – but in a different way than before.

The inscriptions started to glow. That same glow traveled from one end to the other – to the tip of the scepter; the image of the sun.

It started to shine.

The light was blinding. You had to tighten your eyes. It was hot hot hot hot, you almost dropped it on the floor, but something told you to keep holding it. So you held it with all your might. You felt a strange wave of energy flow from your body towards the scepter.

The little sun of the scepter shone, brightening the entire alley as if day turned to night–

And the three vampires yelled in agony.

They tried to cover their faces, tried to run away – but it was already too late. Their skin began to burn as if they were set on fire. Their muscle, their clothes, their scalp, their bones, everything was burning. The vampire that tried to grab it was the first to fall on the floor, agonizing, until he finally stopped moving. The other two screamed, yelled with nowhere to run. Their limbs were way too damaged to move.

You felt that your heart was burning, too.

Finally, the burning was too much for you to take. With a scream of effort, you dropped the scepter with a loud metallic noise and fell back on the floor.

The light extinguished.

You panted. You supported your body on your arms. Finally, the screaming stopped.

There were three dead vampires on your feet.

Their carcasses completely burned, unrecognizable. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Smoke clouded the alley.

You started shaking again.

What– What just happened?!

But then, you heard another tiny voice besides yours and you remembered that there was someone you still needed to take care of. You got up from the floor, not daring to touch the scepter again, tip toeing to avoid stepping over the bodies.

You knelt in front of Oliver and held him by both arms.

“What are you doing here at this hour?!” You lashed out. “Alucard told you to not get out at night!”

The boy sobbed.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry, m-madame,” he stuttered between his cries. “I-I-I was t-trying to help. I-I was t-telling people to g-get into their houses. I was already g-going back home…”

You wiped his tears with the sleeve of your blouse before hugging him. Tight. Oliver cried on your shoulder, his little body shaking against yours.

A hand touched your shoulder from behind – which caused you to gasp loudly.

Alucard had the most shocked, confused expression you’d ever seen. It was one of the rare moments when he wasn’t being subtle.

“What happened?” Was all he asked, but it sounded like a demand.

No no no that’s not what you should ask right now. Oliver is the priority.

The boy leaned away from you and you held his shoulders again. “Where do you live?”

He sniffed and rubbed his nose. His little face was all puffy and wet. “T-Two streets away from here.”

You got up and took his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Ruby–“

“Let’s go,” you interrupted Alucard. “I need to take him home.”

Take him home take him home take him home. Yes, this is what I need to do. This is all that matters.

You walked on a beeline with a rushed pace towards the exit of the alley – both the scepter and the piece of paper with your translations completely forgotten on the floor. Alucard followed you closely, but in silence. Oliver’s little hand was still shaking. You held it tightly.

After no more than five minutes of walking, he pointed towards his house. You leaned down and hugged him again.

“Don’t leave your house. Did you understand? Do not walk out under any circumstance. Tell your parents about it.” You repeated in a serious authoritarian tone you didn’t recognize yourself. Have you ever spoken that way before?

Oliver nodded and apologized again. Finally, he waved a last goodbye and entered the house.

It seems that you just started to breathe again when you heard the sound of the door locking.

A few seconds of silence went by.

“Ruby.”

You shivered and turned around.

Alucard looked down at you with frowned eyebrows. Was he angry? Oh fuck, of course he was angry. You put yourself in danger again. You did what you shouldn’t. You got out of the inn without his permission.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt your mission. I hope I didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you started while avoiding his gaze vehemently. Your fingers were trembling again; you hid them behind your back.

“Can you tell me what–“

“Oliver was being chased by vampires. I saw them running through the window and I couldn’t hold myself back. I’m sorry, I know you told me to not put myself in danger. B-But I couldn’t just stay still, you see?” You couldn’t shut up. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why was your voice shaking? “I didn’t want to make you angry.”

“I’m not angry at you.”

“And then– the scepter– it did that thing again. I don’t know how that happened. It– it got so hot out of sudden, and then the vampires were burning too. I d-don’t know if I was the one to do it. I just didn’t want Oliver to die. I hope I didn’t cause any trouble.”

“You didn’t, Ruby.”

“Oh– I left if on the floor, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I put you through all the trouble of going back to the Louvre only to drop it at the alley. I s-should take it back. Oh! And I was translating the writings too. I think I dropped the paper… well, I wasn’t translating anything, I was just writing the words in our alphabet, and I don’t know it’ll be useful at all but I wanted to help somehow–“

“Ruby.”

The words got stuck in your throat.

Alucard cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look at him and nothing else.

He frowned. “You’re burning.”

You blinked rapidly. “What? N-No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I can feel it through the gloves.” Alucard used his teeth to take the glove off his right hand; he pressed it over your forehead. He was probably trying to help, but that action made you feel even hotter on the inside. “We need to do something about it.”

“No!” You blurted out. “No, there’s no need. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ll heal. I always do.”

“Ruby.” He called again.

Alucard shoved the glove inside his coat and held your face with both hands again; he lowered himself slightly to get closer to your eye level.

“I am not angry at you.” He started in a slow and quiet voice. “You didn’t interrupt me. You did nothing wrong. But I need you to understand that you are spiraling, and I need you to calm down first.”

S… Spiraling? You were spiraling?

You gulped and nodded.

“Breathe with me.” He instructed patiently.

Inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled. You followed his slow pace.

Adrenaline dissipated in your bloodstream; your head got quieter again. Your heart stopped running and went back to walking. Your hands, however, were still shaking.

You lowered your head, desperately trying to avoid his gaze, when you felt tears well up your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said in a weak tone.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Alucard’s voice was even quieter than usual… even gentler. He didn’t step away. His thumb caressed your cheek with care.

“I got so scared. I thought Oliver was going to die.”

Why did you even confess that? You weren’t sure; your brain wasn’t working properly anymore. But yes, that was true. You were scared of getting hurt – you were just used to pain, you didn’t like it – but you were even more scared of seeing that boy die in front of you. So small and so innocent and so familiar for some reason.

Why was that familiar? Why were you so confused? What the hell just happened?

You had no answer to any of these questions. All you wanted to do was cry at that moment – but not in front of him. Never in front of him; it’d be too humiliating. You wanted to step away, to have some space to recover. You wanted to hide from him.

Alucard had other plans.

When the first stubborn tear streamed down your cheek, Alucard pulled you closer to his body. His hands let go of your face; instead, he wrapped his arms around you. He was delicate. Hesitant, even.

Your face was then hidden in his chest.

Alucard didn’t say anything. Perhaps there was nothing he could’ve said at that moment, so he decided to act.

You froze at first. This… this was the closest you’ve ever been to him – at least while fully conscious, a proximity Alucard established willingly. You didn’t even know you had the right to stand that close to him.

When was the last time someone offered you comfort like that?

If it had happened before, you didn’t remember.

Slowly, your body melted under his. Your tense members softened. His sweet scent enveloped you. With much hesitance, you wrapped your arms around his body too, under his cape – and in the moment Alucard realized you accepted his embrace, he held you just a little tighter, a little more comfortable. One of his hands caressed your hair, while the other wrapped around your back.

You did your best to swallow any incoming sobs, forcing yourself to cry in silence. If Alucard even noticed you were crying, he didn’t show it. He just kept his arms around you protectively… affectionately. It made your insides feel warm in a way not even that strange scepter could.

None of you said a word, though there was much to be said. Both of you understood the gravity of what just happened. The three burnt carcasses were there at the alley, waiting to be inspected.

But that could wait for now. Nothing had the right to pierce through the small bubble of peace you shared.

You just stayed there in each other’s embrace for longer than your confused brain could register.

The bright full moon, reining sovereign in the sky, was your only witness.

#alucard x reader #alucard castlevania #castlevania #alucard #adrian fahrenheit tepes #adrian tepes #alucard tepes #castlevania nocturne #alucard x you #castlevania x reader #castlevania alucard

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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago

Text

The Arrangement (11) - First Light

Chapter summary: A much needed discussion takes place and it ends with Astarion coating his daggers with poison.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past trauma. Mentions of oral sex. Blood drinking,

Word count: 4.3k

Author's note: I am still unable to reply to comments (I'm waiting for tumblr support to fix this... I read all of the, I promise. You can also send and ask or head to ao3 so I can reply there. Thank you!

Series masterlist

Ao3

Wyll Ravengard was the picture-perfect of integrity.

Well, if you were to exclude his past dealings with the half-devil Mizora. But even then, he had been mostly justified in his assessment of the situation.

So it came as no surprise when you weren't able to find a single trace of judgement on his face.

Only evident concern.

Shadowheart had quickly filled him in on the Waterdeep situation as well as provided him with enough context when it came to Ava.

“Well, this is a… mess,” Wyll eventually drawled out.

Astarion, who was sitting to your right, immediately snickered. “Understatement of the year.”

Shadowheart, who was sitting to you left, promptly quipped, “I wonder whose fault that is.”

He leaned forward to glance at her. “Darling, all that pent-up frustration must–”

You heaved a deep sigh as you nudged him with your elbow, not in the mood to moderate their venomous exchange. “Enough!”

Wyll took a seat across from yours as a Fist stood by his side, hand clasping the handle of his sword in a silent warning.

“You should have told me about your arrangement with Ava,” he said, locking eyes with you. “I know all too well how some propositions are just rotten from the start and doomed to fail.”

Tension and guilt settled in the pit of your stomach.

Not even half an hour ago, you had been able to momentarily push aside the chaos that had been hurled at you in such short notice.

“It seemed like a fair exchange – if her words are to be believed, that is,” you said.

Wyll tensed up. “There is nothing fair about offering your blood to bloodthirsty fiends as an exchange.” He then glanced at Astarion. “No offense.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “None taken, darling.”

But Wyll did have a point even if your arrangement with Astarion was nothing akin to the one with Ava.

Yet…

“Nothing is set in stone. I don't have to go through with any of it.”

From beside you, Shadowheart managed an irritable look. “I cannot be the only one who finds all of this rather convenient. Even if there is someone connected to Cazador after you, why would she withhold that information? Doesn't she need you safe and sound, Astarion?”

“I suppose so, but who's to say? I would need to talk to her,” he said, eyes on Wyll. “I have to talk to her.”

Wyll immediately understood the implication in his words. “Now?”

“Well, obviously not now,” he said indignantly.

The sun was still up and dusk was hours away.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” you intervened, heart racing in your chest. “We need to find out first if there's something that links all of this to Ava.”

“Regardless of that, she still needs to answer for her deranged proposition,” Astarion replied.

Shadowheart scoffed. “You were the one who endangered her in the first place with that bizarre deal.”

He was on his feet faster than you could blink, scowling. “Do not make the idiotic mistake of thinking you are the only one here who cares for her.”

She rose from the sofa, matching his defyance. “Oh, I am sure you care for her – in your own twisted way.”

“Can you two stop it?” you half-shouted, coming to stand in between them before he could retort. “This is pointless!”

They glared at each other in silence for a moment before parting ways, with Astarion sinking down on a chair whilst Shadowheart began pacing around the room, evidently distressed.

“My friends, we need to think critically here,” Wyll spoke again. “Arguing with each other is the last thing we ought to do right now.”

Silence followed as tension dispersed.

“Now, as we wait for Lae'zel and Gale to return, I must ask a few questions, Astarion.”

He crossed his arms. “Oh, this should be fun.”

Wyll ignored his snarky remark, assuming a more serious demeanour. “Why would you resort to her in the first place? Was her promise more solid than the Wish spell?”

“There were no promises made,” he said acidly, a nerve clearly having been struck. “She’s merely experimenting and the prospect seemed too good to pass.”

“So, your blood for a way to lessen your vampiric hunger? That was the deal?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine and you watched as Astarion tensed up slightly.

He had never shared with them just how deep the horrors he endured under Cazador's command truly twisted inside him.

How all of it had taken a toll on his ability to be intimate with someone without feeling tainted.

How it had ultimately driven him into striking a deal with someone like Ava as despair took root.

And it wasn't your place to reveal any of it.

So you merely sat back and observed him in silence.

“It seemed good enough back then,” he said coolly. “Besides, it could also be helpful to the spawn in the Underdark.”

That had Wyll arch an eyebrow. “The spawn?”

“Petras has been sending letters to report back, and – well, let's just say that dealing with 7,000 hungry vampire spawn isn't an easy feat,” he said. “I figured that if her experiment were to be successful, then it'd be beneficial for them as well.”

Oh.

Shadowheart waggled her eyebrows as her feet came to a halt. “So you weren't merely thinking about yourself?”

“Initially, yes. Of course.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“However, I was the one who doomed them to eternal hunger, so it seemed fitting I'd help.”

“They were doomed either way,” you quickly pointed out. “And it was Cazador's doing.”

His head turned to you. “Be it as it may, their hunger isn't sated for long. I know that all too well.”

Astarion wasn't exactly the epitome of selflessness, but you knew he had come to change some of his ways in the past few weeks after all the events that had unfolded.

And when it came to his own hunger, you figured old habits did die hard.

His eyes then landed on your neck for a moment before looking away.

“I reckon I already know the answer to this, but did you even plan ahead?” Shadowheart said, crossing her arms. “How would you even make this feasible for thousands of spawn with just your own blood? Or were they really just an afterthought?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “Ava was handling the … logistics, shall we say. My blood would be the starting point, but not a requirement.”

She scoffed in utter disbelief. “And you took her word for it… blindly. You simply trusted some monster hunter with a blood fetish? This is ridiculous even for you.”

He was definitely a passionate admirer of the ‘laugh now, cry later’ school of thought, which also meant that when the consequences hit… they would hit hard.

“It's not like progress was being made with the Wish spell, sweetheart,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

A chill rushed through you like a knife. “Only a few weeks had passed, Astarion. All you had to do was wait–”

And then he snapped. His seemingly calm demeanour finally cracking open and revealing the hurt underneath.

“For centuries, all I did was wait! There were times I wished he would just destroy me once and for all to rid me of the burden of being ‘alive’ under such conditions,” he snarled, rising from the chair as he faced you. “I turned away from all that power I could have – the ritual… everything! I – I just…” His voice faltered and he heaved a sigh, reining back his outrage as his face softened into that expression that just broke you. “Is it such a crime that I want better for myself?”

You shook your head, feeling for him, but… “These things take time. Despair leads to rushed actions.”

He grimaced. “So you'd have me turn to hope?”

“Yes.”

He clicked his tongue. “There's nothing quite as cruel as hope, darling.”

You heard Wyll let out an exasperated sigh from across the room. “Astarion, I will not judge you for the decision you made to mingle with Ava – you had your reasons. But the consequences seem severe enough even if she isn't involved in either of the killings.”

He remained silent.

“It's not just about you anymore. She took an interest in her blood and is now using it as a bargaining chip,” he said. “That is unacceptable.”

“I fully agree with Wyll,” Shadowheart said as she came to sit next to you once again.

“And that is why you'll let me go to her,” Astarion said.

“You're still under house arrest. The Council of Four will–”

“To Hells with them all!” Astarion said through clenched teeth, fangs peeking through. “We're your friends, are we not? And since you're so adamant about my fault in this, allow me to set things right.”

“A good call,” Shadowheart chimed in with a nod.

Wyll seemed taken aback by his words and his frown deepened. “I may have the final word as the Grand Duke, but I cannot consciously go against a collective ruling.”

“The circumstances have changed,” Astarion retorted simply. “I will go to her and you're free to have your Fists point a thousand stakes at me along the way if it eases your mind.”

You could tell Wyll felt torn between duty and reasoning, and you didn't envy him in the slightest.

“You don't understand the consequences of–”

Astarion's face darkened and a devious smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, darling. I do understand. I simply do not care.”

Wyll took a deep breath, clearly realising he was fighting a losing battle.

He turned to face the Fist by his side. “Send word to the Council.”

The tall and broad man nodded before exiting through the front door.

“You can't be serious,” Astarion scoffed. “You should have kept this between us. They don't have to know.”

But Wyll merely shook his head. “We can do things your way and my way.”

Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan.

“I'm coming with you,” you said, fully determined..

Shadowheart immediately gripped your arm firmly. “No.”

Wyll rose from his seat. “He shall not go alone, but you don't need to get more involved in this than you already are.”

Astarion turned to face you and raised one hand. “Absolutely not. You stay.”

That made your blood boil almost instantly and a flash of anger crossed your face. “I can fend for myself. Just let me–”

But your words were muffled by a deafening swirling and pulsing sound that came from outside.

In no time, the door was slammed open as a visibly irritated Lae'zel stormed inside.

“Tsk'va! Mages and their nauseating portals,” she grumbled before closing the door shut and plunging the room in candlelight once again. “Almost spilled the contents of my stomach. Twice.”

Both you and Shadowheart flocked to her side and you spoke first, “Are you alright? Where’s Gale?”

She nodded dismissively, placing her esteemed greatsword on the long table. “He stayed behind to converse with a few of his acquaintances, trying to make sense of what happened.”

“Well? What happened, then?” Astarion asked as he approached the three with you with Wyll right behind him.

“The man succumbed to a multitude of slashing wounds.”

Your eyes widened as you gasped.

“Slashing wounds? Was it an animal? A monster?” Wyll immediately pressed.

“We do not know. It was a rather brutal sight even for someone like me,” Lae'zel said with a frown.

A shiver spread across your body and you felt nauseous all of a sudden.

“Was there anything odd about it?” Shadowheart asked.

“Because a man being brutally shredded to pieces isn't odd enough?” Astarion said with a scoff.

She ignored him. “Were there traces of necrotic magic?”

Lae'zel arched a brow. “No. What's with this interrogation?”

Shadowheart was definitely trying to find a common element between the two deaths… and Ava.

And it seemed that there was nothing there.

Yet.

“We are trying to figure out if Ava could have had a hand in this.”

Lae'zel didn't budge. “Who?”

“Ava.”

Lae'zel turned to Astarion. “Your hairdresser?”

This time, Shadowheart clicked her tongue impatiently, hands on her hips. “Astarion struck a deal with some monster hunter turned blood merchant and got her involved.” She extended one arm to at you. “This Ava woman now wants her blood for whatever nefarious reason and might also be the one to blame for the death that led to them getting arrest and – quite possibly – the one from today.”

Your eyes widened, quite astonished that she was able to spill all that information in one swift breath.

If the circumstances weren't quite so dire, you would also have chuckled from how she sounded like a child who was telling her strict parent on her misbehaving sibling.

Astarion was obviously offended. “Conveniently leaving out the part where I am entitled to mingling with whomever I want, and that I was completely oblivious to Ava's finding and her proposal.”

Lae'zel glanced at you. “What proposal?”

“It's fine. Don't worry. I won't go through with any of it,” you said reassuringly, placing your hand on her wrist, knowing fully well she was itching to swing her sword on him. “This is all one big mess, but he truly didn't know.”

Shadowheart growled. “You do not have to keep defending him!”

Wyll spoke before you could. “Shadowheart. I understand your indignation, but we need to move on from the constant pointless bickering. What is done is done.”

Astarion clapped thrice. “Ah! The voice of reason!”

She threw him a death glare before crossing her arms and tapping her foot irritably on the floor, but not uttering another word.

Lae'zel, on the other hand, had her narrowed eyes set on Astarion. “You are fortunate she adores that pretty head attached to your body.”

“Was that a compliment, Lae'zel?” he taunted.

“Your ability to turn any remark into an opportunity to feed your ego is truly astounding, Astarion.”

He smirked happily in response. “I do my best – or worst, depending on your taste.”

“Enough of this,” you interjected as you stared at Lae'zel. “When is Gale returning?”

She shrugged. “Unclear. He is also trying to find another contact who might help out with the Wish spell.”

“No.”

All heads turned to Astarion.

His brows knitted together. “No. No one else is getting involved until we figure out what is happening.”

Your eyes met his in mingled surprise and confusion.

Even Shadowheart was stunned silent as her face softened.

“I thought you wanted this more than anything,” Wyll asked.

“Well, yes. But not when people are turning up dead all around me.”

Lae'zel frowned. “So, all of this for nothing? Had a sudden change of heart about your inability to walk in the sun again?”

He rolled his eyes. “Heavens forbid I'm the one pointing the moral compass in the right direction. Don't act so surprised, darling. I still know what I want and what I need to do.”

You closed the distance between you and him, worry brewing in your heart.

“Astarion, the Wish spell isn't easy to come by. It's not easy to find someone willing to teach it and Gale is a powerful wizard and strong candidate,” you said, trying to reason with him as you placed a hand on his arm. “I understand your reluctance, but we might have to wait even longer if this opportunity is disregarded.”

He didn't even flinch. “This is ultimately my choice, and I choose to wait. I've had it with others dictating how I should feel and act. This is the sensible thing to do.”

For centuries, he had belonged to everyone – to anyone – but himself.

Both in body and mind.

So, if this was what he truly thought was best for him, who were you to deny him of it? Maybe you would have chosen differently, but this wasn't truly about you, was it?

He would tell you otherwise, of course. That you had been the stepping stone to his healing process since the nautiloid crash, but you couldn't and wouldn't take full credit for it.

This was a joint effort and you would empower him all the way through.

“I stand with you,” you said eventually said, breaking the silence.

He gradually relaxed under your touch.

Shadowheart spoke next, “I respect your decision, Astarion. We need to see if there is a link between the two deaths. I can go ahead through the portal and ask Gale to return.”

He nodded.

“Very well,” she said with a curt smile.

Wyll approached the door. “I will inform the guards to accompany you once dusk hits, Astarion.”

He nodded again. “Thank you.”

Lae'zel then cursed and left the room with a loud bang behind her as the door closed shut.

Your hand came to his shoulder and his crimson eyes were on you again. “Let me come with you.”

“No.”

You scowled. “I'm not some frail sorcerer. I can stand by your side and help.”

This time, he chuckled. “Sweetheart, you are more capable than most of us combined here. My reluctance doesn't stem from my lack of faith in your abilities,” he said, voice firm and collected. “If anything were to happen to you because of me, I'd never forgive myself. Allow me to handle this.”

Your heart was hammering fast in your chest from his words, and even though you wanted to argue with his decision, you held your tongue back.

In truth, you were mostly scared Ava would have something up her sleeve and hurt him. That was what was eating at your nerves.

But still, you nodded

It was settled then.

You made your way down the corridor, coming to a halt as the faint glow spilled from inside his room.

The door was open for a change.

A comforting smile curled your lips, knowing you'd find him inside.

As you approached the doorway, you spotted Astarion across the room, flicking through a few pieces of cloth placed on the round table.

You knocked twice on the wood “May I?”

He nodded. “It's your house.”

“Well, it's your room,” you retorted. “For now, at least,” you quickly added, not wanting to seem overbearing. After all, he wasn't ultimately here on his own volition.

“You don't have to keep asking,” he said with a faint smile.

Your eyes landed on his bed as you walked in, causing your heart to skip a beat.

A few hours ago, the two of you had been lost in each other's pleasure on that very same spot. Now, the bedclothes had been laid sprawled across it, no creases or any remaining proof of your earlier endeavour.

The two of you had been robbed of after care and a much needed talk about what had happened.

Even if he had seemed quite content during and after all of it, you found yourself always hung on the fear that you had rushed through it all.

So, you needed the affirmation. You needed to hear his thoughts on it and to ensure no boundaries had been crossed.

You approached the table and your gaze roamed cross the clear vials that he had placed by his twin daggers.

Odourless.

Colourless.

Poison.

“Lethal?”

He dabbed a selected piece of cloth on the clear liquid. “No.”

An uneasy feeling began to take root. “Do you think she'll try to hurt you?”

“It would be rather foolish of her,” he mused, dragging the damp fabric along each blade, coating them in a fine layer of poison. “But I've been wrong before about people, so – as they say – better safe than sorry.”

It wasn’t the reassurance you were seeking, but Astarion was more than capable when it came to self-defence.

“Besides, she needs me more than I need her,” he concluded, inspecting the glinting blade close to his eyes. “And if she fails to provide satisfactory answers, the Fists will deal with her.”

You nodded, but still failing to push your fear aside. “What if there is really someone after us? What if she's not connected to any of this?”

You had purposefully let out the faint implication that maybe there was a connection to Cazador. He didn't need to be troubled with that in case Ava was bluffing.

Astarion sheathed both daggers on either side of his waist before his eyes landed on you. “If that is the case, then she will tell me who it is. And she better have a godsdamned good justification for why she thought I would allow you to be involved.”

You absentmindedly bit your lip and he smiled warmly, coming to stand in front of you, wiping his hands clean from any trace of poison.

Silently, he leaned to press a lingering kiss on your forehead, his cool lips making you flinch slightly.

It was as if a surge of lightning had been cast throughout your body, setting you alight.

“About earlier…” you said, swallowing your nervousness.

He traced your jawline with his thumb before tipping your head back so you could properly meet his gaze.

“Darling, already back for another round?”

You broke into laughter. “No! No… that wasn't what I trying to say.”

He tapped your nose lovingly and it was as if the two of you were long-time lovers, used to each other's teases and mannerisms.

Your heart skipped yet another beat.

“I know. Just couldn't miss the opportunity to have you all flustered for me again,” he said with a devious grin. “But do go on.”

“I just want to make sure… it was alright… what we did, I mean,” you said in a whisper.

Astarion's brows furrowed together. “I thought that was pretty much evident…”

A lump swelled in your throat.

You truly didn't want to overstep any lines.

But you had to know. You had to hear it.

“I am talking about… up here,” you said, pressing a finger softly to his temple. “I… just want to make sure you're truly fine. That we're truly fine.”

You held your breath for a moment, dreading a worrisome reply.

He caught hold of your hand and pressed your finger to his lips. “I will always tell you if it's too much.”

A wave of relief washed over you and you allowed yourself to breathe normally.

Still…

You swallowed again. “Promise?”

“I promise, sweetheart,” he said, using your own finger to tap the tip of your nose, earning a heartfelt giggle from you.

“So… it wasn't too much?”

“No,” he said truthfully.

You nodded as he gripped your chin. “How did it feel?”

He paused for a while, pondering. “It felt… right.”

Your stomach turned and your heart sped up from how close he was to you.

How close he felt to you.

“I want to kiss you,” he said all of a sudden. “May I?”

You felt as though you would melt into a puddle from how desperate he sounded.

“You don't have to always ask,” you said truthfully.

He then pressed his cool lips to the corner of your mouth and you instinctively gasped. “I just adore the sound of your voice when you let me in.”

His lips moved to the opposite side, lingering there, and a rush of heat pooled in your cheeks.

“May I kiss you, darling?” he asked once more, pulling back just enough for his lips to barely touch yours. “May I taste you?”

Gods…

“Please do.”

He didn't need to be told twice.

The kiss started off slow at first as his lips molded into yours. But as soon as you made way for his tongue to slide inside, Astarion became the image of hunger.

He cradled your face in his hands and pressed both thumbs on your chin, so you'd open up wider for him.

A flash of memory filled your mind and you recalled how he used to do the same whenever you were on your knees, struggling to fit his thick cock in your mouth.

“You can take more of me, can't you, my sweet?” he'd say, voice dripping with lust.

You'd always struggle at first. Always. But he was such a caring lover and he would always ensure you took your time.

You quickly shuddered as your clit began throbbing evenly.

His tongue was as relentless against yours as his cock had once been, but his eagerness and hunger had his razor-like fang nip at your lower lip, drawing blood.

“Shit,” you groaned from the sharp sting.

Astarion immediately pulled back and you stared at him in confusion.

You felt a few drops dribbling down your chin.

Why wasn't he tasting you?

His eyes were fixed on your lips and his eyes narrowed with bloodlust.

“You're letting it go to waste?” you asked, swiping your finger across the bleeding wound.

He swallowed with a strained smile.

Oh, he was struggling to hold back…

“Well, darling… I don't intend on leaving the house with my cock hard with your blood.”

You clenched so hard you felt a gush of wetness being squeezed out.

But there was only so much Astarion could withstand, so you couldn't fight the moan that tore through your throat as he placed the softest kiss to your lip.

“Just before I go,” he whispered. “So I can take you with me.”

You clenched again and you could feel your clit swell up with each throb.

He eventually parted from you, licking his blood-stained lips as his eyes held that lustful gaze you adored.

“I'll be back soon.”

You were left petrified in place as he swiftly made his way out.

It wasn’t fair how soaked you were.

How soaked he had left you.

You glanced over your shoulder and realised the door had been left open all along and you rushed to the window, tugging on the curtain.

The sun had set as he appeared down below, followed closely by two Fists.

And the single mage slayer.

The three of them trailed after his steps and darted off into the distance.

And you realised that without a mage slayer around to keep your magic at bay, you could simply vanish.

You glanced at the vials of poison on the nearby table and smiled.

TBC

Series masterlist

Ao3

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #the arrangement #astarion smut

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songsofadelaide · 1 month ago

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"I thought I'd find you here."

You weren't even bothered to check who entered your dorm room, but you knew that clear voice so well.

"Sorry, Shouto," you managed a short reply. You were spread on your bed in your favorite loose shirt and All Might cartoon boxer shorts. The light-colored curtains were drawn open, but the windows were closed, and despite the air conditioning cranked up, it didn't help that today was one of those arid weekend afternoons that made you feel stuffy and heavy and absolutely lazy.

"I sent you a message," Todoroki Shouto, one of the best (and cutest, as your friends remarked) young heroes in the making, who also happened to be your dearest boyfriend, made his way into your dorm room without you even noticing. It was hard to maintain focus when all you could think about was trying to cool down. You felt the bed shift as he sat down beside you.

"Sorry…" You lazily reached for your phone on your bedside drawer. "It's just… Too hot to even move!"

"I see," came a short reply. "Is there anything I can do to ease your discomfort?"

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" You joked, sitting up to meet his gaze before your expression melted into slight confusion. He looked like he was dressed to go out with his light blue dress shirt and dark pants. Regardless, you met his presence with inert excitement. "I'm glad you're here."

Todoroki gave you a small smile before reaching out for your cheek with his right hand, but the coolness of his touch was still a little surprising. Still, you happily sank into his caress despite how chilly his palm was.

"Shouto, w-would you…" You raised your arms and playfully opened and closed your hands. "Would you like to cuddle?"

"Isn't it a little too hot for cuddling?"

A pout graced your face. "N-Not if I'm only hugging your right side!"

"What a selfish girlfriend," he sighed before eventually chuckling in defeat. As though he could refuse such an earnest request from you. "I'll forgive you even though you forgot that we were supposed to go out today."

You froze on the spot and felt your face heat up when he started to unbutton his dress shirt. "O-Oi! Wh-What are you doing?!"

He had an inner shirt, much to your relief, and he made his way beside you, lying down rather comfortably on his back before beckoning you to crash into him as well. He dropped his right arm and patted the light-colored sheets with a rather coy smile on his face.

"Shouto…"

He was still grinning. "Come closer, then. Let's stay cool today."

🌺 Author's note:

This fic is based on Rebecca Mock's art piece with the same title.

This is a rework of a chapter from my old MHA fic collection! I plan on revisiting some of my old work and getting to crosspost them here... eventually! There's just something about a mysterious and reserved guy being coy with his girlfriend... that makes me all giddy!

Apart from being one of my favorite pieces back when I started writing for MHA, I believe this fic happens to be a fan favorite of sorts, too. This was years ago and I gave permission for it to be recorded as an x listener audio fic. You're free to send me a message if you'd like a link to the audio fic!

#songsofadelaidewrites💛#mari's prompts 🎠#mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #i feel so high school #yknow it's a weird day when i'm thinking about my own high school days #it's also... very hot here from where i am!!#starry divider by @/cafekitsune

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stylesispunk · 11 months ago

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'I've been praying, I never did before'

Not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

summary: you prayed to God to send you the answers. Should you stay with Joel or leave him?

w.c: 5k> warnings: angst and cheating.

a/n: this one is based on this ask a lovely anon (🍫) sent the other day. (thanks for your support, I hope I made it justice) and I hope you all like it. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You weren't a religious person.

You believed in God, but your devotion didn't go beyond the necklace's cross and your eloquent prayers asking for the protection of your loved ones.

You weren't a religious person, but you thought God sent Joel to you that night at the bar when a wasted man thought he had some power over you just because you wore a short dress. Everyone should have seen his face the night he first got you.

And you thought God rewrote the prophecy of your failed luck in love.

Joel, the sweetheart. Joel, the loving, thoughtful, and faithful.

Joel Miller, your boyfriend of six years.

Not rings, not clues of him saying you loved beyond the whispers in your ear when he had his arm wrapped around your waist in public, showing you off to hide you from the rest of the world once the lights weren’t on you.

The first signs of your love rusting into scarlet maroon.

At first, you brushed them off, attributing the occasional cold shoulders or the missing date nights to stress, life’s inevitable distractions, or nights of hard work. But deep down, you felt the shift. The whispers of doubt crept in, subtle yet persistent, like the gradual erosion of a once impenetrable fortress.

All the vipers are moaning in mourning for you and your poor wounded heart, already cracking due to the daggers thrown at you in poisoned words.

Joel made you feel invincible, loved, and worthy of something as warm as the golden dawn. However, his eyes, once brimming with affection, now flickered with a hint of something words couldn’t speak. His somber eyes matched the gray clouds before the storm on a cloudy day, with no defense or barbed wire to keep you warm. You tried to bridge the growing chasm with gestures of love and attempts at rekindling the spark, but it felt like grasping at smoke.

The nights grew longer, and the silences became more pronounced. You found yourself reminiscing about the early days, the nights spent talking until dawn, the effortless laughter, and the shared dreams you were supposed to build. Those memories felt like a lifeline, a reminder of what once was and what you desperately wanted to reclaim as yours.

Yet, the more you clung to the past, the more it slipped through your fingers. Joel's once warm embraces became mechanical, his kisses lacking the fervor they once held. No more lips attached to your forehead for protection. The blaze on your sheets, once fueled by the fire of your touches, has now become a simple ritual, devoid of connection.

You began to wonder if you had misread the signs, if perhaps you had mistaken God's intervention for a fleeting moment of serendipity. The love that had once felt like destiny now seemed like a chapter nearing its end. The vibrant hues of your relationship had faded, leaving behind a tapestry woven with threads of doubt and broken promises.

In the quiet moments of solitude, when you waited by the door, hoping for Joel to step into the house, you wondered how the red roses he brought grew back as thorns, hurting your fingers as much as when you touched his skin. Would you be able to build a fort after this storm?

"Dad isn’t here yet?" Sarah interrupted your thoughts from the stairs, her wide eyes gazing into yours with the same worry drawn on them.

"No, sweetheart, not yet," you replied, trying to mask your own anxiety with a reassuring smile.

Sarah descended the stairs slowly, her small frame casting a long shadow in the dim light of the hallway. She reached your side and leaned against you, her presence a small comfort in the growing uncertainty.

"Did he say he would be late?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

You shook your head. "He didn't say anything, Sarah. Maybe he's just caught up at work."

But you both knew it was more than that. The nights he came home late were becoming more frequent; the excuses were absurd. The distance between you and Joel was no longer just emotional; it was physical, an ever-widening gap that neither of you seemed able to bridge.

"We'll wait a little longer," you said, wrapping an arm around Sarah's shoulders. "He'll be home soon."

Together, you stood in the hallway, the silence stretching out, heavy and oppressive. The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each one a reminder of the uncertainty that now defined your lives.

Sarah was thirteen; she wasn’t naïve when it came to your somber eyes growing gray with each passing day. How do your luminous smiles become a sad smirk just for the sake of pretending?

And as you waited, you couldn't help but wonder if the prophecy of your failed luck in love had been rewritten after all, not by God but by the slow, inevitable decay of a love that once seemed eternal.

The memory flooded back, a vibrant contrast to the present. It was a crisp autumn afternoon, the air filled with the scent of fallen leaves. You and Joel had decided to escape the city for a day, driving out to the countryside without any particular destination in mind.

“Where are we going?” you had asked, laughter in your voice as the wind whipped through the open car windows.

“Somewhere beautiful,” Joel replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You ended up at a secluded lake, its surface like glass reflecting the fiery colors of the trees surrounding it. Joel spread out a blanket, and you both sat down, your shoulders touching, sharing the warmth of the moment.

“This is perfect,” you whispered, leaning into him.

He turned to you, his face inches from yours. “You’re perfect,” he said softly before capturing your lips in a kiss that felt like the first rays of sunshine after a storm.

You spent the afternoon there, talking about everything and nothing, your conversations punctuated by comfortable silences filled with the sound of nature and the beating of your hearts. Joel picked up a pebble and skimmed it across the lake’s surface.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over everything, Joel pulled out a small notebook from his jacket pocket. “I’ve been writing something,” he admitted, looking almost shy. “About us.”

You felt a lump in your throat as he read aloud, his deep voice weaving words of love and dreams of a future together. It was in that moment you realized just how deeply Joel had intertwined with your soul, making you believe in a forever you had always been skeptical of.

“Marry me someday,” he had said, not as a question but as a promise.

“Someday,” you had agreed, sealing it with a kiss that tasted of hope and endless possibilities.

That day, everything felt like a love story from a book, each written page filled with the promise that seemed far from the truth now.

You thought of God when you walked towards the church, seeking prayers and perhaps answers about the fate of your written story with Joel.

The voices were getting to your head, as were the flashbacks from the first night. Puzzle pieces on the dead end of a relationship reeking of putrefaction. You should've known better; flowers die of thirst after being picked.

You thought of the nights. Joel came home late—the missed dinners, the cold shoulders. Each instance is a small fracture, barely noticeable at first but gradually accumulating into a chasm. You thought of the way his kisses had lost their warmth, becoming mere pecks devoid of passion. You had tried to hold on, to rekindle the flame, but it was like trying to grasp water with your hands—it slipped through your fingers, elusive and unattainable.

Dolls are pretty inside their boxes, then they are taken out, played with, worn down, and eventually discarded. You felt like that doll, once cherished and now left on a shelf, gathering dust.

"God," you murmured, "if you can hear me, please show me what to do. Show me how to fix this, or give me the strength to let go."

But how would you resist his charming promises after he had stolen your wounded heart, fixed you, and made you feel like you belonged somewhere?

Once you reached the bench, you got on your knees, clasping your hands together, and prayed to the Lord. You begged him to give you answers.

Should I stay with Joel? Or should I take this knife to my lungs and remove it?

There was nothing more humiliating than begging God that somebody would love you the way you wanted. You have let people love you the way you thought you deserved.

Please

Your golden bracelet was fading into a scarlet maroon as you clasped your palms together, praying.

Please

You prayed, trying not to imagine Joel shoving his dick into some other woman.

The silence that followed was heavy, pressing down on you like a weight on your shoulders. But in that silence, you felt a flicker of something—hope, perhaps, or maybe just a sense of acceptance. You realized that, whether you found a way to mend your relationship or decided to walk away, you would survive. You would find a way to heal, even with your heart in pieces.

As you stood to leave, you took one last look at the altar, the candles still flickering stubbornly against the darkness. You walked out of the church with a little more resolve.

You wake up in the middle of the night. Joel is there, breathing with his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You watch him for a moment, your heart aching with the memories of what used to be. Since when did you become a footnote in the story of his life?

Unable to find solace in the darkness, you slip out of bed, careful not to wake him. The floor is cool beneath your feet as you make your way downstairs, the house silent except for the faint creaks and groans of settling wood. You head to the kitchen, seeking the comfort of a warm cup of tea—something to soothe the restlessness gnawing at your soul.

You fill the kettle and set it on the stove, the soft click of the burner igniting the only sound breaking the stillness. As you wait for the water to boil, you lean against the counter, your thoughts drifting back to the early days with Joel, when love was a fire that warmed you both.

The kettle whistles, jolting you from your reverie. You pour the steaming water over a tea bag, and the fragrant aroma of chamomile rises to meet you. As you stir the tea, you hear the soft padding of footsteps behind you. Turning, you see Joel standing in the doorway, his eyes heavy with sleep.

“What’s wrong?” You asked with a clear intention behind those words.

“It’s cold,” he answered. "I missed your warmth," he added, his voice a low murmur that carries the weight of unspoken feelings. "It's cold without you."

You swallow hard, the words catching a lump in your throat. "I couldn't sleep," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just needed some tea.”

Joel steps closer, the dim light casting shadows on his face. "I know things have been... different lately. Distant. I don't want it to be like this."

Here it comes: another lie to cage you.

You look down at your tea, the steam swirling like confusion in your mind. You look down at your tea, the steam swirling like confusion in your mind.

“Do you love me?” you asked.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Of course I love you.” He assured you. “Life just got complicated, I guess. Work, responsibilities... but that's no excuse. I've let us drift apart, and I'm sorry."

You meet his eyes, searching for the truth in them. "I miss us," you admit, your voice breaking. "I miss what we had."

Joel reached out, his hand warm as it covered yours. Promising something without evoking words, as if his touch would be able to evoke the fire you used to feel when his hand touched your skin.

“You can go back to bed,” you said, breaking the suffocating silence settled between the two of you. “I’ll drink my tea first.”

Joel hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."

You watched him walk back up the stairs, each step heavy with the weight of unspoken promises and unresolved tensions. The quiet in the kitchen seemed even more profound after he left. You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the tea seep into your hands, trying to find comfort in its simplicity.

The minutes stretched on as you sipped your tea, your thoughts swirling like the steam rising from the cup. When the tea was gone, you washed the cup and placed it on the counter, taking one last moment to collect yourself before heading back upstairs.

When you entered the bedroom, Joel was already lying on his side of the bed, his back to you. You slipped under the covers; the sheets cooled against your skin. You turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The silence felt different now—less oppressive and more like a blank canvas waiting to be filled.

You settled into your usual spot, leaving a small gap between you and Joel. But before you could close your eyes, you felt him shift. He turned towards you, his arms reaching out and wrapping around your middle. It was a tentative embrace, but it was the first sign of love he had shown you in a while.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the familiar warmth of his body against yours. You relaxed into his hold, feeling the weight of his arm around you and the steady beat of his heart against your back.

"I miss this," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the darkness.

You placed your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I miss it too," you replied softly.

In the quiet of the night, wrapped in Joel's arms, you felt a flicker of hope. The path to healing and rediscovering each other would be long, but in that moment, you both took a step towards it.

The next morning, you woke up feeling the absence of Joel's warmth beside you. The space where he had lain was cool, and the sheets were undisturbed. You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and sat up. As you looked around the room, you noticed Joel at the foot of the bed, quietly packing a suitcase.

A pang of confusion and worry shot through you. "Joel?" you called softly, your voice still heavy with sleep. "What's going on?"

Joel looked up, his expression a mix of guilt and resignation. "I'm leaving for the conference," he said, zipping up the suitcase with a firm pull.

Your heart sank. "What?" you asked, trying to make sense of the situation. "You didn't tell me you had a conference."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I’m sorry. It came up last minute, and I didn't want to worry you."

"But you're just leaving now? Without saying anything until now?" The hurt in your voice was palpable, the sense of déjà vu from last night's conversation lingering in the air.

Joel's eyes softened with regret. "I should have told you sooner. I didn't handle it well. I'm going with my boss, and we'll be back in a few days."

Your mind raced, trying to process his words. "Going with your boss? Why didn't you tell me about this before?" You knew he was saying the truth, and you had come to the conclusion that all the affection he showed you last night was pretending to ease you.

He hesitated, the silence stretching uncomfortably. "It’s been hectic at work, and honestly, I didn't want to add more stress to everything."

You stood up, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to shield against the emotional chill. "We talked last night about making more time for each other, and now you're leaving without a word."

Joel stepped closer, reaching out to touch your arm. "I know, and I promise we'll talk more when I get back. I want to work on us, really."

You pulled back slightly, searching his eyes for sincerity. "I hope to be here for when you come back.”

"Don’t be like this, please," Joel replied, his voice tinged with regret. "I don't want to lose you, not after everything."

You forced a small smile, though it felt hollow. "Just be honest with me, Joel. About everything."

He nodded, his expression earnest. "I will. I promise."

With a heavy heart, you watched as Joel gathered his things and headed for the door. As it closed behind him, the emptiness of the house seemed to swallow you whole. You sank onto the couch, feeling lost and alone in the wake of his departure.

As the minutes stretched into hours, you found yourself unable to shake the nagging feeling of doubt that had settled in the pit of your stomach. Joel's sudden departure, coupled with his vague explanations, left you feeling unsettled and suspicious.

You paced the empty rooms of the house, your thoughts spiraling out of control. What if Joel wasn't really at a conference? What if he was with her and the secretary you knew had feelings for him?

The mere thought sent a surge of anger and betrayal coursing through you. You had noticed the way she looked at Joel and the way she always seemed to find excuses to be near him. And now, with Joel gone on this supposed trip, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

You grabbed your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. Should you call him? Text him?

But before you could make a decision, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The lack of sleep, coupled with the emotional turmoil of the morning, left you feeling drained and defeated.

You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. Tears threatened to spill over, but you fought to hold them back. You couldn't let yourself fall apart, not now.

As you sat on the couch, overwhelmed by exhaustion and emotion, a sudden surge of determination washed over you. You couldn't just sit there, stewing in your doubts and fears. You needed answers, and you needed them now.

With trembling hands, you grabbed your phone and quickly searched for Joel's location. Your heart pounded in your chest as the GPS map pinpointed his whereabouts—an upscale hotel here in the city, not at all where he had claimed to be.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. Joel wasn't at a conference. He was right here, in the same city as you, but he had lied to you.

You were someone who, until recently, he had shared secrets with, and now he was keeping them from you.

Despite the exhaustion and emotional turmoil, a fierce determination burned within you to confront him and demand answers.

With shaky hands, you dialed a taxi, your mind racing with a mixture of anger, hurt, and disbelief. How could Joel, someone you had shared your deepest secrets with, now keep such a significant secret from you?

As you waited for the taxi to arrive, the minutes felt like hours, each passing second amplifying the turmoil within you. But you refused to let the uncertainty consume you. You needed to know the truth, even if it shattered the facade of your relationship.

Finally, the taxi pulled up outside your house, and you climbed inside, the anticipation building with every passing moment. The ride to the hotel felt interminable, the streets passing by in a blur as your thoughts swirled in a tempest of emotion.

When you arrived, you paid the fare and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the heat of your anger. The imposing facade of the hotel loomed before you, a silent witness to the unfolding drama of your life.

As you entered the lobby of the hotel, your heart raced with anticipation and anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that gnawed at you, driving you forward with a relentless need for answers.

Just as you were about to approach the reception desk to inquire about Joel's room, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With trembling hands, you retrieved it, seeing Joel's name flashing on the screen.

For a moment, you hesitated, your thumb hovering over the answer button. But then, steeling yourself for whatever confrontation awaited you, you pressed accept.

"Hello?" you said, your voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within you.

"Hey, babe," Joel's voice came through the line, sounding casual and unconcerned. "Just checking in. How’s Sarah? How's your evening going?"

Your grip tightened on the phone, anger bubbling up inside you at his nonchalant tone. "She is good; everything is fine," you replied tersely. "Just fine."

Joel seemed oblivious to your tone as he continued to chatter about the conference, complaining about how boring it was and how tedious it was to spend time with his boss.

As he prattled on, your mind raced with conflicting emotions. On one hand, his words seemed to confirm his alibi—unless, of course, he was lying through his teeth. On the other hand, his casual dismissal of your concerns only fueled your suspicions.

When he finally paused to take a breath, you seized the opportunity to interject. "Joel, where are you right now?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and you held your breath, waiting for his response.

"I'm still at the conference," he said finally, his voice tinged with confusion. "Why? What's going on?"

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your composure. "I see," you said through gritted teeth. "Well, have fun at your conference, Joel. Goodbye."

As you sat in the lobby, the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Doubt gnawed at you, eating away at your resolve as you questioned whether you had been mistaken about Joel's whereabouts. Maybe he really was at the conference, and you were letting your suspicions get the better of you.

Just as you were about to give up and leave, your gaze drifted toward the entrance of the hotel. And there, walking through the doors, was Joel, his arm wrapped around the waist of his secretary, her laughter echoing in the cavernous lobby.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you watched them, your heart plummeting to the pit of your stomach. You felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air knocked out of your lungs as the truth stared you in the face.

Joel's eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, his face went white as if he had seen a ghost. You felt a surge of anger and betrayal wash over you, your knees threatening to give out beneath you.

As the truth of Joel's betrayal hit you like a freight train, panic seized hold of you, squeezing your chest in a vice-like grip. The world seemed to spin around you, and you struggled to catch your breath as waves of nausea washed over you.

One of the receptionists noticed your distress and hurried over to offer assistance. "Are you alright, miss? Can I help you?" they asked, their voice laced with concern.

You could only shake your head, unable to form coherent words as tears welled up in your eyes.

But before you could fully process what was happening, Joel appeared, his face etched with panic and concern. "Hey, hey, hey, are you okay?" he exclaimed, rushing to your side and reaching out to steady you.

Your heart twisted at the sight of him, the betrayal stabbing at you like a knife. "Don't touch me," you choked out, recoiling from his touch as if it burned.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, unchecked and unbidden, as you struggled to find the words to convey the depth of your anguish. "How could you?" you whispered, your voice breaking with pain. "How could you do this to me?"

His eyes widened in realization, and for a moment, you saw the flicker of guilt and regret flash across his features. "I can explain," he began, but you couldn't bear to hear his excuses.

The pain was too raw and overwhelming, and you felt like you were drowning in a sea of hurt and confusion. With trembling limbs, you pushed yourself to your feet, shaking off Joel's attempts to console you as you stumbled towards the exit.

"I need to get out of here," you muttered, your voice hollow and distant as you fled from the scene of your heartbreak.

As you stumbled towards the exit, Joel's voice followed you, pleading and desperate. "Wait, please, just let me explain," he called out, his footsteps echoing in the empty lobby as he chased after you.

But you couldn't bear to listen to his excuses; you couldn't stand the sight of him after his betrayal. Anger bubbled up within you, a fierce fire burning away the remnants of the love you had once felt for him.

When you reached the cool night air outside, you turned to face him, your chest heaving with emotion. "Explain?" you spat, the word bitter on your tongue. "What could you possibly say to justify this?"

Joel's expression was a mask of guilt and regret as he reached out to touch your arm, but you jerked away from him, the sting of his betrayal still fresh in your mind. "I made a mistake," he began, his voice pleading. "I never meant to hurt you."

"You never meant to hurt me?" You scoffed, incredulous. "You lied to me, Joel. You betrayed my trust and our relationship. How could you think that wouldn't hurt me?"

He took a step closer, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I know I messed up, but please give me a chance to make it right. I love you, and I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."

But his words fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the roar of anger and pain that filled your mind. "I don't want to hear it," you spat. “I gave you six years of my life to you!” you sobbed. “Six years wasted on you, you fucking asshole!” you began to hit in the chest.

With a surge of emotion, you lashed out, your fists pounding against his chest with a force fueled by years of love and betrayal. Each blow was a release, a cathartic expression of the pain and anger that consumed you.

But even as you struck out at him, the tears streaming down your face, you knew that no amount of violence could erase the pain of his betrayal. And as Joel stood before you, his face contorted with remorse, you realized that the love you had once felt for him was now nothing more than a bitter memory.

With tears still staining your cheeks, you turned away from Joel, your heart heavy with the weight of his betrayal. Every step felt like a struggle as you made your way back home, the echoes of your confrontation with Joel still ringing in your ears.

As you entered the familiar surroundings of your home, you felt a sense of overwhelming exhaustion wash over you. But there was no time to rest, no respite from the storm of emotions raging within you.

With a heavy sigh, you began to gather your belongings, each item a painful reminder of the life you had built with Joel. Your hands trembled as you packed your clothes and personal effects, the tears flowing freely as you grappled with the reality of your shattered dreams.

In the midst of your turmoil, the sound of the door opening drew your attention, and you turned to see Joel standing in the doorway, his face a mask of desperation and remorse. "Please, don't leave," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "I'm sorry; I'll do anything to make things right."

But you couldn't bring yourself to look at him; you couldn't bear to see the pain and betrayal reflected in his eyes. With a heavy heart, you turned away, focusing on the task at hand as you continued to pack your things.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Sarah standing in the doorway, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

But before you could respond, Joel stepped forward, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Sarah, we had a disagreement," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "But I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the situation to her, but you squared your shoulders and turned to face Joel and Sarah. "I'm leaving," you said, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions raging within you. "I need some time to figure things out, but I'll always be here for Sarah.”

With that, you gathered your belongings and made your way to the door, leaving behind the shattered remnants of the life you had once known. As you stepped out into the night, the weight of your decision hung heavy around you, but deep down, you knew that it was the only choice you could make.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air washed over you, but there was no relief from the turmoil raging within. Joel's footsteps echoed behind you, his desperate pleas falling on deaf ears as you continued to walk away.

"Please, just listen to me," Joel begged, his voice thick with emotion.

But you couldn't bear to hear his words; you couldn't stand the sight of him after his betrayal. With a surge of anger and frustration, you whirled around to face him, your hand connecting with his cheek in a sharp slap.

The sound of the slap echoed in the stillness of the night, a resounding declaration of your pain and betrayal. Joel staggered back, his hand flying to his stinging cheek as he stared at you in shock.

"How dare you?" You spat, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "How dare you come after me, after what you've done?"

You turned away from Joel, refusing to let him see the depth of your pain. Without another word, you continued to walk away, leaving him standing alone in the darkness.

As you disappeared into the night, the sting of your slap still lingering on his cheek, Joel knew that he had lost you for good.

Your prayers have been answered by God.

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