#throwing away the trash in your main existence area

[kedreeva]

Alright, I'm dragging you all into doing tasks with me today.

I've gotta do a bunch of laundry and dishes and clean floors and stuff, and I hate working alone, so here's what we're gonna do!

When you reblog this and tell me your completed task, I'll add it to a tally and update periodically with a progressive total. Before I go out tomorrow, I'll grab a final count, and that's how many whole food "treat" pieces the birds will get when I get home (a mix of fishies and crickets and mealworms and blueberries and nugget treats and banana pieces etc, all stuff that is a good part of their diet). Tasks can be anything you need to do, but it would make me especially happy for folks to do things they've been putting off or are hard to find motivation to do alone, so the birds can help you back.

So! Let's get to work together today!

Do it for her!

[abirdietoldyou]

ANOTHER CRAB'S TREASURE: A Cod-damn Masterpiece

Total Hours: 37.9 Achievements: 32/32

Another Crab's Treasure is the second game from the Seattle-based studio Aggro Crab. Officially announced in 2022, this gem has been on my radar for a WHILE.

And I couldn't be happier to write this.

As said in my Steam review, heads up, it's my first official soulslike.

Another Crab's Treasure throws you fin-first into a colorful underwater adventure that flips the script on everything we've ever known a soulslike to look like. As someone with no real experience with the genre other than what I've seen from fellow content creators, I was immediately drawn in by the silly cartoonish world and all it had to offer. It was a breath of fresh air that put my 116 minutes on Elden Ring–all spent in character creation–to shame.

But don't let the cute shell fool you. This game has enough heart(kelp) to tug at the strings of even the most fortified- Sorry to all you thimble users out there.

You play as Krill, a charming crustacean forced to part ways with his beloved shell by one of the most evil things to plague the tide pools. Taxes.

Armed with nothing but an old discarded dinner fork and the power of Moon Snail Shells, you start on a quest to find your way home.

Testing the Waters: The Shallows

The Shallows is the game's starting area, with enough small crabs and minnows to put my local pond to shame. Here, players get their first chance to explore this game.

If you're like me, this would mean gathering every shiny thing lying on the ocean floor- And not that I blame you! This game is a crab trap full of them. Sadly, this excitement could lead to our little crab friend beheaded. Literally!

Tucked away in the world of Another Crab's Treasure are a handful of optional bosses you can beat before you even encounter the main boss of an area, one of which is dangerously easy to run into here. But have no fear, my crustacean friend. Walk far enough away, and you're free to get back to exploring!

Overall, The Shallows is the perfect starting ground for new and experienced players to learn the mechanics needed for the long journey ahead. From gorgeous Slacktide Castle to the mysterious Moon Snail's cave, The Shallows offers so much that even in the end, you'll be back.

The (Crab)Meat of it All: New Carcinia

New Carcinia is the gateway to everything the game truly has to offer. Even when you've progressed far past it, the area is a shopping hub PACKED with NPCs and stores that make it impossible to avoid. It's a gorgeous trash-built haven split between two levels showcasing one of the game's prominent underlying issues.

All it takes is one unlucky step on one of the many receipt bridges or getting too close to the edge, and suddenly, you're on the lower level.

A stark contrast to its bright and cheery upper level, the lower level of New Carcinia is where our cheery and colorful game takes one of its dips into the serious side of things. It is home to some of the most important characters you meet, each with their unique take on life mirroring the trials they've faced thus far.

The game EASILY juggles deeper topics while maintaining its lighthearted and cheery exterior throughout most of it. Despite its occasional treads in murky water, the story of Another Crab's Treasure is one to encourage you to look on the bright side.

When There’s a Will, There’s a Wave: Bosses

While the colorful and cheery world of Another Crab's Treasure is an impressive creative feat, the bosses that fit in it are just as incredible.

The way the team perfectly tied every arena to the unique themes of each boss adds so much more to the already charming level design. From a sushi boat housing the bane of my existence to a LITERAL throne room, you can tell they spared no expense when it came to showing every enemy the love they deserved.

Arenas aside, the bosses themselves are a force to reckon with. The game houses 18 bosses–five completely optional–for Krill to conquer on his adventure. Each boss has a weapon more unique than the last, including but not limited to tea infusers, hair driers, and even toilet brushes. On the optional side, Krill is up against bike locks, a caged monstrosity reminiscent of a Resident Evil monster, and the fists of the Grovekeeper.

These bosses are in no way impossible, but here is where "let's try this again" becomes a mindset rather than just a phrase. As someone who has dodged many Unblockable attacks and rolled into even more Aggro ones, the trip home will not always be as easy as slipping into the nearest current and being done with it. Another Crab's Treasure is a game that makes you work for your victories while making them all that much more memorable.

Besides, how many of us can say they fought an eel shooting bread out of a toaster and lived?

I Shell Never Leave: My Final Thoughts

Going into this blind as someone who had never touched a soulslike was an EXPERIENCE. It was so easy to find myself getting sucked into the world and all its little problems that, despite my regular schedule, I consistently found myself putting in 9+ hours each stream. I couldn't put it down, even with how often I saw the death screen.

Regardless of how much I had already seen between the developers' TikTok page and all the trailers that had come out, I would never have expected to get so hooked so fast. Barbed Hook-ed even.

What started as a silly little adventure about paying your taxes led to one about pollution, corruption, self-discovery, and the message of doing what is right–for the sake of others AND the planet we call our home.

A message so powerful that I couldn't help but cry as the credits rolled and my chat and I closed the cover on such a beautiful story.

Today, over two months later, I STILL find myself replaying it, never being able to move on from a silly little adventure I had in a world bigger than myself.

So, my final verdict for you, my dear birdwatcher:

A Krill-ion/10

Despite becoming the Queen of Soft Locking, Another Crab's Treasure is a microplastic gold mine of heart and soul. And my game of the year.

Here is a game I don't see myself shelving anytime soon because, in my own words:

Thank you for stopping by for the Raven Report!

[greatlakesworks]

Brush And Tree Debris Removal: Everything You Need To Know

Small amounts of brush can be removed and disposed of in green trash containers, but large amounts of brush cannot be removed and disposed of in these containers. It is best to assess a plan for brush clearance and removal if you are clearing and removing a sizable amount of brush or currently have a pile in your yard.

How Do I Get Rid of a Lot of Brush?

Upkeep and maintenance for a tiny residential property with tame turf are not too difficult. However, maintaining a brush can be difficult if you have a larger plot with some natural areas. Without a doubt, cleaning brush is a really difficult task, regardless of how densely grown the lot is or even if it only needs little pruning. As a result, consulting an expert is always recommended. But, if you still wish to do the job by yourself, then we have got the best tips for brush removal near Raleigh, NC, and nearby regions. So, without further ado, let’s start!

What is Brush? Why Should You Clear It?

Simply put, a brush can be defined as woody vegetation, such as tree limbs, branches, dead or nuisance-causing bushes, trees, and shrubs, along with vines and stumps. Besides, brushes also include invasive or unwanted live plants and debris. The main distinguishing feature of the brush is that it crowds out desirable plants and flowers, and can be attractive to snakes, rodents, and pests. Thus, the brush is a safety hazard and restricts a property’s inhabitants’ ability to fully enjoy their outdoor spaces!

Best Time for Brush Removal

Winter is the best time for brush and tree debris removal near Norton shores, and the proximal regions. It is significantly simpler to rake, prune, hoe, and trim vegetation in the winter since it is organically less dense. Additionally, working on the frozen ground has no negative effects on the neighboring healthy and desirable plants and causes no soil disturbance. Additionally, it is ideal to remove bush in the winter when it is less likely that you may encounter snakes or get bitten by mosquitoes or other insects.

A Seven-step Guide to Brush Removal and Tree Debris Removal

Invigilate the Landscape

When planning on clearing your lawn for landscaping or constructing a new structure, you will know precisely what you are dealing with. But, of course, the process requires rigorous invigilation of the landscape and then laying out what needs to be done. Of course, you do not need a map of the lawn, but you do need to navigate the yard and gauge the best possible way to clear and brush and undergrowth. Also, make sure to mark the unwanted trees in the lot, and note areas that appear particularly thick and overgrown.

Lay Down a Plan for Brush Disposal

Before you begin the brush and tree debris removal near Clayton, NC, and nearby areas, it is a good idea to come up with a plan of action for appropriate brush disposal. Otherwise, there is a big possibility that you will end up with a lot of excess in your yard, which can create a fire hazard. Moreover, a very large pile of brush can also be a safe haven, snakes, rodents, ticks, and fleas. The three possibilities for brush clearance include –

Dumpster hiring:

After removing the brush from the landscape, you should usually clean it up by moving the waste to a dumpster that you have leased. The advice is particularly useful if you have a lot of large pieces of waste to get rid of, like trucks and tree limbs. However, there are countless more things you can throw away in a trash, like grass clippings, shrubs, and vines.

Opt for on-site Brush Grinding

If the lot you are clearing is large enough to accommodate a grinder, then it can be an excellent option to mitigate the footprint of the material and make a product that is much more advantageous for the landscape. Once the brush is ground up, it biomes mulch, which has a plethora of garden-oriented uses.

Mulch can be used in a variety of ways, such as to cover existing garden beds, discourage weeds from growing, preserve moisture, keep walkways free of mud, protect tree roots, and more. Mulch is a very appealing addition to the landscape and is simple to utilize on any type of property.

Create Mulch-based Compost

Lastly, if you do not prefer to keep the mulch made from your brush on-site, there is always the alternative of hauling it away and using the mulch to make compost and soil blends. Thus, you get organic matter, which is sustainably recycled and kept out of the landfill.

Equipment for Brush Removal

Before delving into the process of clearing brush from your lot, make sure to have proper and adequate equipment in hand. Remember to use tools and equipment that are serviced and properly working. Brush removal is an arduous and risky process, and vigilance is imperative. Some of the things that can assist you in seamlessly clearing brush from the lot, while staying safe are –

Work gloves

Sturdy boots

Thick pants

Long-sleeved shirt

Protective goggles

Ear protection

Insect repellant

MachetePruners

Loppers

Weed Wacker

Chainsaw

Shovel

Lawnmower

Chipper or Shredder (In case, those who want to use leaves and twigs to make their own onsite mulch)

Conclsuion:

After marking down the trees you want to cut during the prep section, it is now time to get down to business. The key is to remember that any brush and tree debris removal near Clayton, NC, or nearby areas must begin with removing the trees. Uprooting small trees is simple, and can be easily done at home. However, you must be extra careful while dealing with medium and large size trees, as they can be difficult to take out without proper equipment or professional help.

[waywardimpalawriter]

Laundry Day (Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader)

Laundry Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

Bucky Bingo Square: Domestic AU

Characters: Bucky Barnes,

Setting: two months from the ending of “Hey Bartender”, set in the Marvel universe but canon diverged the snap never happened.

Rating: M (Mature), +18 only please

Warnings: cursing, mature themes, angst, longing/yearning, idiots pining for one another,

Word count: 3,002

Summary: Sunday’s the dreaded laundry day when there’s not a stitch of clothing to wear except the man your currently crushing on, soft Henley shirt.

Notes: Bingo Square fill and written for the lovey @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and Write Wednesday prompt.

Tag list: @buckybingo​

You’ve heard it many time, how cool you own a bar. Can drink whenever you want. Let me drink for free. Last thought getting a snort from your lips while looking through the laundry pile. The main reason owning you a business sucked you never get a day off to do normal shit like the fucking laundry that seems to pile up before you know what’s happened. Wondering if like rabbits it multiples while mating.

Huffing out a resigned sigh, tossing the last article of dirty clothing back into the basket thankful you wouldn’t need to schlep the bags to a local laundromat. Instead could get a little light cleaning done while the built in laundry room, a big thank you too granddad for putting the room in, did at least part of the work.

“Fucking hate laundry day,” low growl leaving your lips and tugging on the only clean clothes left.

Hefting the plastic basket on to your generous hip, grabbing the towel off the bedroom doorknob to add and heading towards the small room just off the bathroom to the left. Dropping the basket down you go back out to put on some music. Grabbing up your cell phone happy to have brought large capacity storage so your whole collection could fit. Setting all of Lady Gaga’s music on shuffle ‘Monster’ flowing through the small speakers positioned around your living room in specific areas for optimal sound quality. Wide hips swaying to the beat black Henley brushing the tops of your thick thighs incased in shorts, knee high socks keeping the rest of your legs warm and helping you slide across the oak wood floors. Not caring what you look like at the moment, expecting no one to show up on an early Sunday morning.

Bright smile slides over your lips the song changing to ‘Born this way’ belting out the words thankful and not for the first time you don’t have neighbors. Owning the whole building does come with certain perks. Meaning it didn’t matter how loud you got no one would call the cops on you for excessive noise or lousy singing. With those thoughts in mind you head back to start sorting clothes getting a load going, grabbing the swiffers dust clothes, mop and bucket on your way out.

Leaving the last two by the kitchen island, spinning back body moving to the beat of the music. Picking up bits of trash making you frown for a moment, knowing you weren’t that messy but shrugging off the thought tossing the trash. Starting to dance around, straightening lamps, running the dust cloth over the expanse of hard wood furniture and nick knacks from your childhood. Getting into the rhythm, beat caressing your body, tingling your senses making you move in ways you wouldn’t show another living soul only these four walls.

Finishing up the living room, you stand back to catch a breath admiring your handing work when ‘Shallow’ starts to play. Bradly Cooper’s smooth tenor caressing your ears a soft sigh leaving your lips. Your body starts to move to the melody, slow and sensuous, arms wrapping around your tummy as you sway. Twirling as Lady Gaga’s voice takes over, stepping around the couch that faces towards the tv positioned in the middle of a brick wall. Bursting out to sing the chorus, you keep swaying picking the tempo up. Draping your body backwards over the couch careful not to knock a lamp off the side table. Grabbing up a remote to use as a makeshift microphone, singing your heart out to no one but the empty room or so you think.

Raising back up slowly to spin away still belting out the lyrics breathlessly, wide smile on your face happiness thumping through your veins. Feeling freer than you have in a long time all thanks to a song that comes to an end with loud clapping ringing through your apartment. Making you scream out and throw the remote towards the source of the nose. Squeak existing your breathless lips that hang open staring at Bucky Barnes’s imposing figure filling the doorway of your apartment.

Catching the black plastic wrapped remote in his flesh hand before it landed against his chest, smirk sliding over those oh so kissable lips. Not that you haven’t dreamt of at least a couple nights a week. “Fucking hell Barnes how long have you been standing there?” Quickly moving towards your phone to cut the music.

Turning to take in his rumpled appearance. Chestnut hair tucked back into a messy ponytail few wisps hanging out to frame his face. Sculpted by the finest artists all angles and edges begging for your lips to caress. That’s graced with shadows of a sleepless night of tossing and turning in a to soft bed and a floor too cold for comfort. Sold wall of muscle that is his shoulders and chest covered in a wrinkled green Henley top button open to bare just a hint of collarbone. You try not to lick dry lips at the peek of skin wanting to bury your nose in the hollow of his throat and nibble to see what sounds you could drag from those sinful lips. Snapping back to the present when he begins to speak before your wondering eyes could take in the bottom half of his fackable body. They lock with his for a moment longer than proper catching the dark circles and weariness he tries to hide behind that boyish smile.  

“Long enough,” clearing his throat to push down the arousal building up. In truth he tried knocking first, pounding followed with a couple of shouts of your name to accompany. Hearing the music spilling from behind the close door Bucky pulled the key you gave him last month out to let himself in.

Unprepared for the sight his eyes would land upon after pushing the old hard oak door open. Music hitting him square in the ears, not unpleasant a tune but a touch loud. However, that’s not what caught his eyes, no it’s the way you moved around the apartment to the melody. Body swaying, rolling and bending in ways that had him gritting his teeth to keep from stepping forward and pulling your soft body against his strong chest. Wanting to fill the spot of invisible partner, dipping you in his arms, wrapping them around your thick waist. Teasing the column of your throat with his lips after bending you backwards over his arm.

You’re a fucking temptation to his body and damnation to his heart and soul. One Bucky Barnes would gladly partake of if he didn’t feel so tainted, hands coated in invisible blood, mind splintered with nightmares of memories and lies. He wouldn’t saddle you with him as a burden. He’d push those feelings back bury them, accepting the friendship you offer and a shelter from a world he’s yet to fully grow accustom too.

Hands on your wide hips, scowl contorting your beautiful features, “I didn’t give you that key so you could barge in whenever you like Bucky.”

“I brought breakfast,” pointing towards the little white bags on the small wooden table by the door. Giving you the saddest puppy eyes he could which only makes you huff and roll your own.

Shaking your head, “You think you’re cute don’t ya Barnes?” Trying to infuse a touch of anger into your tone but it comes out more playful teasing than growling menace.

“Of course doll, you wouldn’t have me any other way,” wiggling his brow, scooping up the bags to follow you into the kitchen. Kicking something over he looks down teasing smirk slides over his lips before giving way to a playfully sheepish look, “Guess I finally kicked the bucket huh?”

Trying to hold back the laughter but it comes out on a snort that has a deep gruff laugh issuing from Bucky which in turn makes you giggle harder. Holding your stomach as it aches from the mirth lighting your features. Taking notice of the fact years have disappeared from the weariness he normally carries. Eyes sparkling in early morning sunlight shining in from the kitchen window. His beautiful steals your breath for a moment as you calm down, turning to start the Keurig, reaching for the pods of coffee you keep just for Bucky.

“Incorrigible Barnes, sit ya ass down while I make coffee,” couple of short giggles break free with another shake of your head.

Placing the bags down before dropping into his usual seat, “Two…”

“Spoonfuls of sugar no cream or milk I remember along with the dark roast that’s your favorite,” shooting him a smile. Grabbing your cell, changing the music to shuffle your whole library, turning the volume down so its more background noise than actually listening. “What brings you by this morning? Besides taking ten years off my life of course.”  

Snorting at your quip with trying to hide that he’s smitten by the fact you’ve memorized how he likes his coffee. “Hadn’t seen you in a week doll, thought I’d drop in with breakfast and see if you need help with anything down in the bar.”

Taking a few moments to actually looking over your plush frame. Big mistake because he notices how those shorts mold to your wide hips and thick thighs begging for attention. Knee high socks shouldn’t look so damn sexy but on you he’s shifting in his seat to take pressure off the erection building in his jeans. Eyes dancing to take in your upper half damn near choking on his own spit at seeing you wear his Henley. Stretched out with age and use from his days in hiding and a little thicker in build. The way it stretched over your lush breasts cupping the generous globes outlined for his eyes to devour. Flowing against your tummy he wouldn’t object to laying his head on while cuddling into your body. Wanting to place kisses and nibbles on the skin hidden from his widening cerulean eyes. Shocking him back to reality with you placing a steaming mug of coffee in front of him.

Palm going to his forehead, “Really doll, what exactly are you feeling for?” Glancing up to search your turned down face. Catching the soft scent of Egyptian musk, mixed with clean linen and something sweet added that he’s sure belongs solely to you.

“Seeing if you have a fever, you checked out on me there for a few moments Barnes,” gently pressing the pads of your fingers into his neck, counting a pulse and sending goosebumps to skitter across his body.

Taking the hand from his body, the urge to pull you into his lap strong with your warmth radiating into his. “I’m fine sweetheart honest just lost in thought of this beautiful dame I know.”

“Lucky woman,” slowly pulling your hand back tramping down on the hurt flashing through your body. Heading back to start your own coffee, “Make yourself at home as usual,” shaking your head watching Bucky toe off his biker boots and prop his mismatched sock feet into the closest chair. Rolling your eyes, “Way to comfortable,” exasperated quip leaving your mouth as you head back and change laundry over.

“What’s with the get up anyway?” Not wanting to shout, Bucky followed to lean against the door jam of the all to small room. Coffee mug hovering near his lips thankful for not taking a sip when you bent over to add cloths to the dry.

Plush ass on display for his eyes to map, flesh hand tightening around ceramic mug while vibranium plates whirl with a clinched fist at his side. Tempting isn’t even a word he’d use to describe the torture your presenting him with. Quickly averting his eyes to the ceiling, but not before catching the peek of silken looking skin his shirt bares while sliding up. Searching now for something to distract himself. Before he did a very stupid thing like pull you into his arms and see if you fit against him like he’s imagined one too many times. Burying his face in your neck and tease the tender skin with three days worth of beard wanting to see if you’re sensitive and ticklish.  

Brought back from those sexual thoughts when you speak, words tossed over your shoulder, “It’s all I had to wear, everything else needed washing. Price I pay for owning and running my own bar,” shrugging you bend to pick up the next load swearing you hear a groan from the man behind you. Yet when you turn he just gives you a smile that seems to make his cerulean eyes dance.

“Ah that explains why you’re wearing my shirt though not how you got it,” against better judgement, Bucky reaches out to tug the hem. Baring a briefest hint of cleavage to his desire darken eyes, with all three buttons open. He swallows harshly taking a bigger sip of his hot coffee than meaning to but the slight burning mouth pain distracts him from those thoughts that could get him into trouble. “I’m not complaining doll just curious if you’re stealing my clothes when you come over to my place.”

Snorting, “It’s not your shirt Barnes, your clothes wouldn’t fit my wide ass,” placing a hand on his shoulder to push him out the doorway. “If anything it’s from a pervious boyfriend and just stretched out.” Though you can’t help but glance down at the shirt racking your brain to remember who left it behind. Till you remember not having a boyfriend for the last couple of years and even then you didn’t let them keep stuff at your apartment. Only Bucky, who has his own key and drops by when he needs a break from the Compound and Avenging. Eyes widen in shock at the realization that in fact this shirt belongs to Bucky and must’ve got put in with your laundry one of the last times he stayed the night after a bad mission.

Deep in thought, you miss the low growl leave his throat at the mention of other men or the way he frowns when you insult yourself. “You have a gorgeous ass doll stop putting yourself down,” gently grabbing your upper arm to spin you around and face him. “And yes that is my shirt, there’s a stain,” swallowing hard but still brushes his fingers over the darken slightly yellow patch between your breasts. “Right here, it’s dripped mustard from a Coney dog about three weeks back remember. We went to Coney Island since you never went, sharing the cotton candy and almost getting sick,” soft chuckle leaving his parted lips. “You’re laughter at the corny shows, riding the Ferris wheel, I almost felt normal for once,” vibranium hand dropping back to his side, he heads to the table and plops down into his previous seat. Cursing his actions, head cradled in his hands hiding from his behavior and you. Wanting the earth to swallow him whole for his stupidity in voicing those words instead of keeping them bottled up. For touching you without asking permission, but God does he want a repeat and this time not let go.  

Frozen by his words, heart aching for how he still feels, the searing touch of those cool metal fingers, but most of all by the realization he remembered a day you hold dear to your heart. Eyes close for a moment to gather your thoughts, taking a deep breath and heading for your cooling coffee. “What’d you bring for breakfast?” distracting them both of you from the elephant in the room.  

Head popping up so quickly your sure he’s cracked his neck, half smile tugging at his lips, but not reaching his eyes, “Your favorites of course.” Reaching for the bags to pull out a small assortment of breakfast pastries.

“Trying to fatten me up Barnes?” You jest though back peddle at the scowl Bucky sends you. “Okay, okay I won’t do that again,” hands up in surrender but under your breath, “till your gone.”

Caught in mid sip, “You do know I have superior hearing right?”

“Your point Superman?” Bringing your mug with to sit down on Bucky’s left.

“I heard what you muttered,” grabbing the cream cheese kolache and taking a health bite while keeping eye contact with you.

Shrugging, “Then I’ll keep those thoughts to myself from now on,” picking out your favorite pastry to nibble on. “Oh and don’t worry I’ll get your shirt back to you once the rest of my clothes finish. I’m sorry it’s so stretched out.”

“One of these days doll,” muttering the rest to himself. Thoughts running through his mind on how much he’d like to bend you over his lap or better yet spread out for him to taste. Till you understood the beauty held in your countenance, the sway of your wide hips and plush body. Learning just what you do to his body and heat. But he knew those imagines held a deeper sway than you’d let anyone else see. Ones needing more than searing touches and intimate kisses but true actions to show you the truth.

Confident on the outside but tormented by dark thoughts and self doubts. That revelation skitters across Bucky’s mind like hot iron dunked into cool water, shocking his system to how similar though different as well, in ways he didn’t want to examine not yet. Registering the last comment Bucky looks up at you, tracing the features of your face, how your body looks in his shirt with golden sunlight bathing you in a warm halo. Speaking the words before his brain can shut them off, “Keep the shirt doll it looks so much better on you and by the way you didn’t stretch it out I did.” Flashing you his patent smirk before taking another drink of lukewarm coffee. Never so thankful for laundry day, stretched out shirts and the beauty sitting next to him.

[lemontwst]

Nessun Dorma | 01 - f!ver.

he says i am sorry i am not an easy person to want i look at him surprised who said i wanted easy i don’t crave easy i crave goddamn difficult

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: harem x f!reader.  |  male version here.

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: cyoa + smut.

⟶ index  |  prologue.

__

You can’t say no to him.

You don't think you'd ever be able to deny Mira anything, really. Not when he looks at you like a kicked puppy… a tall, imposing kicked puppy with weird horns on his head who could probably cremate you alive without breaking a sweat.

"Of course I would stay with you! Do you even have to ask?" You reach out to touch his face. His skin always feels so cold under your fingers, but the fire in his eyes burns brighter than ever, as if the intensity of his flames depends solely on the intensity of your affection for him.

"I love you, Mira."

Your heart flutters at your own words and for a second you don't even know if you mean that as a friend or as a lover. But, well, you're only sixteen years old. You have a lifetime to figure it out.

You think Mira stops breathing, but it's hard to tell because the rise and fall of his chest is usually pretty much imperceptible anyway.

“I… I love you too.”

He sounds like he’s about to cry. One of his hands rests against your chest. It’s an innocent touch. He’s just feeling your heartbeat under his palm, tiny and steady like that of a little bird, “I will always, always love you. Even if one day you grow to hate me. Even if you forget about me. Even should you fall in love with somebody else…”

You suddenly feel very tired.

His gentle voice is like a lullaby in this field of roses. His words leave you dazed, like he’s casting a spell on you.

“I love you, (y/n).”

The last thing you hear is Mira wishing you a happy birthday before you fall into a warm, comfortable sleep without dreams.

___

A sharp pain in your chest jerks you awake.

It fucking hurts, like your heart is being pierced by a shard of glass. Like the fissures of your very existence are being pulled apart at the seams.

You clutch the spot above your heart, almost elbowing Epel in the face with all your trashing, trying to catch your breath.

"(y/n)! What the hell...?" Your friend rolls away from you, finally letting go of the octopus hold he had on you all night. He's all disheveled as he gives you a weak glare, falling back into the makeshift bed you two share with a groan.

It's not even a bed, really. Just a pile of cotton blankets messily thrown under the skylight of an unused barn. This is your little hiding place, and despite you two having perfectly comfortable beds in the main house with Grandma and Grandpa, you prefer to spend your summer nights sleeping in this very loft, where it's cool and open and comfortable. 

"Sorry! I… had a nightmare… I think.” 

Your friend is used to it by now, “Do you remember what it was about?”

"No… not really."

"Nothing at all?

"No, just…"

"Green eyes." Epel finishes the sentence for you. You've been having the same nightmare for a while, and your friend knows all about it, considering he sleeps right next to you most of the time.

Green eyes. Burning emerald. It's all you remember, alongside a gut wrenching, heart shattering feeling of longing that stays with you long after you've woken up.

"... Hey, you okay?" You must have looked as miserable as you feel, because Epel leans closer to you, peering into your face with worry in his eyes.

"Yeah… it's just a stupid dream." You shrug, leaning your head against his shoulder, "But you know what would make me feel better?" 

Epel shrugs, but the way his brow crinkles tells you he's already prepared himself for whatever dumb thing you're about to say.

He knows you too well.

"I'd feel sooo much better if I had an additional piece of toast for breakfast today…" you sigh dreamily and Epel sighs.

"Fine." He shrugs you off and stands up. When he stretches, a peek of white skin flashes under his light blue shirt.

"What, really?" Your eyebrows shoot up. It's not usually this easy to get him to hand over his morning toast.

"Yeah," Epel walks the length of the loft and starts going down the ladder to the ground level of the barn. Before his head completely disappears under the edge of the loft, he throws you an arrogant smirk, "I wouldn't want the deafenin' roars of your stomach wakin’ up every wolf 'n boar in the area."

You're rushing after him immediately.

He can’t claim the bread if he’s dead.

___

You live a simple, happy life here in the Village of Harvest.

Your journey might not have had the best start—your parents left you on a doorstep in a basket when you were a small baby, but Epel's grandparents took you in and cared for you like you were theirs, and you grew up surrounded by love in a small farming community.

Sure, your days might not be terribly exciting. You don't have things like a mall, or a cinema or… anything built after the seventeenth century, really, but you have Epel and your grandparents and that's enough.

Oh, and you have Beau.

The little lamb trots towards you as soon as you're out of the house, your belly full with toast and Grandma's delicious apple jam, and starts nibbling at your socks immediately. 

Beau is minuscule. The tiniest lamb you've ever seen, always struggling to follow behind you on unsteady legs like you're his mother. Epel says it's because he feels a kinship with a fellow pipsqueak. You're always quick to point out that Epel is not that much taller than you anyway.

"Good morning, sweetie." You pick up Beau in a swift movement and hold him to your chest with one arm, carrying a wicker basket in the other, "Ready to pick some apples?"

Beau starts nibbling on your hair in response. This little guy… he's always munching.

"Just make sure he doesn't actually eat the apples." Epel starts walking in front of you, throwing Beau an unimpressed look.

You can't be sure but you feel like Beau is glaring back at him.

Sigh. Children.

___

You're always dead tired when you finally reach your bed. Farm life is fun and rewarding, but it’s also incredibly exhausting. That coupled with the fact that you haven’t been getting much sleep lately means that you’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow, barely having the strength to say goodnight to Epel before you’re spiraling into a deep sleep.

…

…

You know you should be surprised to see him, but you never are. You can always feel him creeping around the outer edges of your dreamscape, but it doesn’t bother you. You invite him in every time, even if you forget all about it when you wake up, almost like you know instinctively that he won’t hurt you. Almost like you know him.

The man in your dreams is gorgeous, the kind of beauty that makes you want to learn sculpting so you can attempt to immortalize it. His skin is paler than marble, free of scars or blemishes. His ebony hair looks silky, a stream of ink that frames his handsome face and falls past his shoulders. He is tall, the tallest person you’ve ever seen, and the evil-looking horns on his head make him look ever more imposing. 

But what you find most striking about him are his eyes. Emerald gems with flames inside them. It’s the only detail of his that you remember when you wake up, the rest of him a cloud of black smoke when you attempt to picture him outside of your dreams. 

“Good evening, Deerlet.” His voice has the texture of silk and when he speaks, it feels like the ground shakes beneath your feet. “Did you miss me as much as I missed you, I wonder?” He closes in on you with slow, purposeful steps, elegant as a cat even as he leans forward slightly, like he wants to keep you in place by towering over you. His expression is curious and serene. You have a feeling he always looks at you like this.

“Why are you here?” You take a few steps back, not because you’re scared of him, but because you're scared of how badly you suddenly want to reach out and touch him. Your bare feet step on something soft, like flowers, and suddenly the dull landscape around you shifts into a view that feels strangely familiar to you. An open meadow and a purple sky above you. An endless sea of black roses around you.

“Your eighteenth birthday is tomorrow.” He closes the distance again, as attracted to you as you are to him. You’re like two ends of a magnet, when one pulls back the other follows. “I really felt quite distressed at not receiving an invitation.” The small, arrogant smile on his face sends a flurry of tingles down your spine.

“In any case, I won’t be able to celebrate with you tomorrow.” 

You feel like you already know where this is going.

“So I’ve brought you your gift today,” He reaches out to touch your elbows, languidly pulling you closer to him in a half-embrace that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s too much empty space between the two of you. His fingers linger over your skin, barely touching you. 

“Do you want to know what it is?” He whispers against your ear. One of his hands gently cradles your face. His lips brush against your temple and you shiver, completely paralyzed on the spot, “It’s my love, of course.”

Not granting you the chance to run away, the man picks you up like you weigh nothing, then gently lowers you over the roses.

"I don't… I don't even know you." You meekly push at his chest, turning your head away. It's like trying to move a mountain, and the hardness under your hands makes you blush something fierce.

He chuckles above you, but he's not amused. It's a pained, bitter sound, like you just reached inside his ribcage and crushed his heart in your hand. His ebony hair tickles your skin when he leans down to press kisses against your jaw, "Oh, you do know me, beloved. You are the other end of my soul, as I am yours."

His adoring voice, barely a whisper against your skin, leaves you dazed and gasping for air. Your legs open almost instinctively for him, your thighs wet with excitement. A clawed hand makes his way from your shoulder to your side, slowing down when it passes over your breast as if he's indulging in the forbidden fruit. His fingers reach your inner thigh and he runs a slow circle against the wet, trembling flesh, eager to soak in your juices. 

You watch with half-lidded eyes as he brings his hand to his mouth. A forked tongue peaks between his lips, slowly running over one of his lucid fingers. It brings back a memory of that time you dropped jam on your forearm, and that same forked tongue cheekily swept it away. The vision is so clear it leaves the hint of a name in your dry mouth.

"Mi… ra?" 

His eyes dart to yours and you think they're actually burning. Emerald flickers to life. His snake pupils shrink. He makes a show of slowly running his thumb down his tongue, leaving a trail of milky fluid behind. Your stomach clenches with need, your entire body lighting up like he just poured gasoline on you and burned it with a match.

"Is… is that your name?" You manage to gasp the words out, suppressing a shiver when he hums low in his throat. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you to just give in already. To stop asking questions and wrap your arms around him instead, letting him use your body until he's satisfied. The urge to make him happy is almost primal in you, cauterizing your synapses. The need for him almost tears you apart.

"It's what you call me." It's a habit of his to sound both sad and adoring, you realize. You open your mouth to scold him for being so cryptic, but snap it shut when his hands rest on your chest. He palms the soft flesh gently, a small smirk on his arrogant face, "My precious Deerlet. Always so insatiably curious."

His thumbs slowly circle your hard nipples. Little jolts of electricity run down your spine, your chest growing sensitive under his ministrations. It's agonizingly slow. The sweet way he rubs you through the cloth of your dress makes you quiver with need, your voice coming out in short little gasps that make his eyes darken to a dangerous jade.

You lay your hand on top of his. You can feel his hard veins move under your palm as he gropes you, and the sensation sends another wave of slick down your thighs. Shaking like a frightened animal, you slowly move his hand to the side and slide it under your dress. A gasp leaves you when his fingers touch your bare skin. Mira exhales a long, pained sigh through his nose, then allows his digits to explore the expanse of your flesh. His fingertips tingle and his muscles tighten almost violently as the impulse to fuck you threatens to overtake him.

"Patience, daelin." He teases you, his deep voice a heated, playful murmur. Your pussy clenches in response. A small, frustrated whine leaves your lips. 

"I'm going to savor every moment of this." He takes his hand away and your heart almost breaks, but the pain is soon replaced by scalding embarrassment when he rips the front of your dress apart, easily, like it's tissue paper.

Nothing could have prepared you for the thunder that rattles the landscape of your psyche when his forked tongue makes contact with your perky nipple. Your hands find his broad shoulders and you hang on for dear life as he licks, nibbles and sucks like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. His mouth is devastatingly gentle and you weakly beg for more. Mira smirks and ignores you, dragging out his tender torture for as long as he can, even as you desperately grind your drenched core against him.

"Mira!" You're sobbing at this point. Your body is on fire and your core hurts from clenching without something to hold your walls apart, "Please—" He moves to your other nipple and you arch for him, making a pretty line with your back. Mira takes this chance to slip a hand under you, keeping your chest raised to his mouth so that your head falls back, away from the dangerous tips of his horns. But he still doesn't touch you where you want him.

Suddenly, another memory comes to mind, as if summoned by your sexual frustration. You remember something that makes him shiver without fail, and suddenly you feel like you've regained some sort of power over this arrogant man. You bring a hand to his horn and tug and the loud, startled moan that leaves him is enough to satisfy the hunger in your stomach, slick pooling under you like dew against the roses. 

"... You little brat." Mira pulls away, struggling to catch his breath. His eyes are full of mischief as he looks down at you, the smirk ever present on his handsome face, "Is this how you treat your King?"

You try not to look too offended that he stopped touching you, giving him a defiant look that makes his smirk grow wider, "It is when the King is mean to his Queen."

His expression falls and he suddenly looks flustered. It seems like he enjoys hearing that you belong to him quite a bit. Mira quickly composes himself, the fire in his eyes now dim and subtle like a dangerous warning. 

You yelp when he grabs the back of your knees and pushes your legs against your body in a quick, rough movement, leaving you spread open and helpless under his watchful gaze.

"This is far from me being mean." He growls at you, allowing his instincts to take over for just a second, "So I advise you don't do that again." The stern look on his face makes his presence feel even more oppressing than usual.

It's like he's speaking the words directly into your ears. His voice bounces off the walls in your head, heated and demanding as a spark of his magic runs over your sensitive skin. It's a tingly feeling that makes your heart stutter, more intimate than anything you've ever felt. He shares just a fraction of his arousal with you through the link between your touching powers and suddenly you're crying and convulsing on top of the flowers, the heat between your legs akin to flowing magma.

The world around you loses focus. There's no more questions, no more doubts, you don't need to know anything about him, you just want him to touch you while you moan and gasp and whimper his name. It feels like you're on the verge of shattering and when Mira caresses you with his magic one more time, your stomach squeezes and releases, the dam in your abdomen breaks and blinding white flashes in front of your vision. You're left boneless and dazed and shivering, the shock from climaxing so hard and so abruptly leaving you speechless as you gasp and try to catch your breath.

...Holy shit. You catch his eyes and notice the subtle way he’s panting, sweat coating his forehead as he stares at every twitch of your body with intense rapture. Mira looks almost famished, desperation written all over his face. He looks like he’s in pain.

"I'm trying to be gentle, daelin." He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to keep the pieces of his disintegrating self-control together. Your scent is everywhere. The light spice in the air threatens to render Malleus insane and he has to momentarily block you out to keep himself from turning into his half-draconic form.

No no no, he can't do that to you. Not now. Not during your first time. He wants to cherish and protect you. He won't let his feral instincts get in the way of this precious moment…

"...I know."

Malleus opens his eyes. A small, tired smile greets him. Your face is sweaty and flushed, like that one time he took you deep into the woods.

"I trust you, Mira."

Love washes over him like high tide across a deserted shore, filling every crack on his eroded heart, replacing the pitch-black ink that constantly threatens to swallow him.

You trust him. Of course you do. You love him. You are his and he is yours. Forever, like you promised him.

"... I'll make you feel good." He sounds oddly resolute as he looks at you, his pupils large on a background of gentle flames. He kind of looks like a happy cat and you can't help but giggle. He's still as awkwardly sweet as the scrawny boy in your memories.

"You already did."

He snorts, "I'll make you feel better."

You let out a surprised gasp when he lowers his face right between your legs. You hear him take a deep breath and then he's exhaling right against your wet pussy. Your legs tremble in response and Mira chuckles. You don't need to look at him to know he's smiling that closed-eye smile you like so much.

Your excitement flares back to life as his tongue traces the line of your entrance. The split in his tongue feels… weird, but it's also strangely erotic, and you can't help but moan shamelessly as he teases your slit. Then he runs his tongue up until it finds your clit and suddenly you can't bear to look at him anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as little earthquakes shake you from head to toe, your hips going numb as he draws slow semi-circles around the sensitive nub.

"Which one feels better?" He has the nerve to ask you even as you convulse under him.

"The tip…" his tongue flicks your clitoris and your head falls back, slick dripping out of you like a fucking river and coating his face in a lucid sheen of arousal, "Or the base?" He drags his tongue under the hard nub and slooowly licks up and you nearly lose your mind, your hands tangling in his raven hair and gripping his horns for comfort. Mira gasps loudly against you, claws digging into your legs from the shock of the sudden stimulation, but you don't even notice it, lost as you are on the edge of your release.

Your core pulses desperately with the need to cum all over Mira's face. Everything feels wet and hot and stars, his tongue is lapping up everything you have to give him. It's like he's desperate not to let even a single drop go to waste…

"Mira!" You cry out in a broken voice, trying to grind your core against his eager mouth, "Mira—I'm going to—"

He suddenly lets go of one of your legs. The boneless limb falls over his shoulder, your soft thigh caressing the side of his soaked face. He doesn't grace you with a warning before one of his fingers plunges into you, finally granting your clenching walls some sort of relief.

Your moans increase in volume. You trash under him as if you want to get away. This is almost too much. It's scary. He adds another finger in and rubs that sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and suddenly the bliss is debilitating. Your back arches as another orgasm crashes over you, scalding hot and earth-shattering and too fucking vivid for this to be just a dream.

You completely miss the dazed expression on Mira's face, the dark jade of his eyes fading into a glassy mint. 

You're so out of it as you slump back against the roses that you almost don't hear him when he speaks again.

"This scent is—addicting—" his chest heaves and he looks almost intoxicated, "I feel like I'm getting drunk on you..." his cheeks and chin are all shiny and sticky but he clearly doesn't mind. Not when he starts wiping the cum off with a hand before bringing it to his mouth, swallowing as much of it as he can. It's strange how he looks like an animal and a prince at the same time. An otherworldly creature of indescribable beauty, even as he eagerly eats your essence off his face.

“(y/n), I can’t take it anymore…” He breathes frantically, finally allowing himself some sort of relief as he takes his erection out of his pants. His dick is so hard it fucking hurts. He really wanted to take things slow for your sake, but he only ended up edging himself to the point of almost going into a rut.

He lets his hot member fall against your stomach. He’s fucking huge, you stare with wide eyes at the point where his length ends across your abdomen. 

"It… it won't fit…" You mumble, even as your pussy clenches with traitorous want.

"Not this time, probably not." Mira cradles your little body in his arms, "I'd have to train you for it to fit. Stretch you out until your insides have my imprint." He runs a hand down his face in a quick, agitated movement. Every single cell in his body is fighting against the urge to ravish you. His muscles hurt from tightening so violently and Malleus has to force himself to count to ten to keep from showing his cock inside you at once. 

“It’s… fine. I won’t hurt you.” He promises, searching your face for your approval as he lines himself against your entrance. He’s been alive for centuries and yet his heart has never beaten so fast. His hawk-like eyes are focused on you and you alone, burning the image of you laying helpless under him inside his corneas. 

Then you nod up at him, looking so cute as you try to put on a brave face that Malleus almost cums right then and there. The head of his dick slowly pushes inside you. Your head lulls back and Mira's hands shake violently.

It's so big. Your vision goes out of focus as your hole clenches around him greedily. Stars, it's stretching you so well. You're soaking wet and yet he still has to push to enter you because you're so fucking tight. Your legs shake uncontrollably, the feeling of being filled completely wiping out every thought in your head.

He finally touches the deepest place inside you, his large cock still not completely inside, and you both go completely still. The only sounds that break the humid silence are your loud gasps and his feeble ones, mixing together in a cacophony of absolute amazement as you two take in the surreal feeling of finally being connected.

Mira is inside you. You completely forget that this is a dream, that sentence repeating inside your head over and over again.

"...Small." He mutters. You look at him and your heart almost collapses at the tender expression on his face. You think his pupils might have turned into little hearts, rouge dusting his pale cheeks as sweat drips off his hair and chin.

"So small." He makes a show of hovering over you completely and suddenly the sky disappears. There's only him. Above you and around you and inside you. You're face to face with his chest, and as you lean your head back, trying to catch his eyes, you see that he has to tuck his chin against his neck to look back at you. 

…

...

Fuck. Your heart lodges in your throat and your hole clenches around him, coaxing a surprised moan from both your lips.

"(y/n)..." your name sounds heavenly when he says it like that. On a quiet, vulnerable gasp.

"I… I'm going to start moving now, okay?" 

You can't speak, so you give him another frantic nod, squeezing your eyes shut. You're not prepared for how good it feels when he pulls back. His veins scrape against you, the stretching becomes almost unbearable and you're left moaning long and loud in a way that makes Malleus sweat. If you could see him now, you'd notice he looks almost shy, like the first time you kissed his cheek. 

He's almost out of you when he decides to thrust back in, scattering stars across your stomach with a single, gentle motion. Every nerve ending tingles with pleasure. Sweet nonsense falls from your lips and Malleus has to grit his teeth and dig his clawed fingers into the ground in order to cling to the last remains of his thinning patience. His fangs hurt with the primal urge to mark you.

"My (y/n)—" He eases into a steady rhythm, pushing what he can of his shaft inside you. Sweat pours down his face, his hair sticks to his chin and his tongue swipes the salt off his lips, "My sweet girl—my cute little Deerlet—" His hips snap back against your smaller ones in short strokes, his movements growing more and more frenzied as tight, magma hot pleasure builds inside him. The obscene sounds that fill the air turn him on so much he's now full-blown moaning. His beautiful voice calls your name shamelessly, desperately, like you could disappear from under him at any given moment.

"I love you—you're mine—" He growls placing a large hand under your ass as he pounds into you, keeping your hips locked to his, “Say that you’re mine."

The order resonates inside your head. You're not even offended that he's using his magic to intimidate you. You can barely cling to your consciousness at this point.

"I am—I'm—yours, Mira!" You don't even know which way is up anymore, but you know that what you're saying is true. You belong to him. Your best friend. The love of your life.

"Malleus." He corrects you through gritted teeth, then he stops moving entirely, ignoring your disappointed cries as he desperately tries to resist the pull your body has on him, "Say I'm yours, Malleus." 

"I'm yours, Malleus." His real name becomes a moan in your mouth and Malleus finally snaps. There's no more gentle, just a carnal urgency and a need that has waited centuries to be satisfied. He pulls his hips back and then slams into you and fuck, you should be screaming by now but you can't, there's not enough air as you bounce over the flowers and sob, clinging to him like he's your lifeline.

The loud "Fuck!" that leaves his mouth pushes you over the edge, the word so unexpected but so fucking sexy coming from his graceful mouth. You clench down around him, delirious as stars explode behind your vision, and drag him right over the edge with you. 

Malleus holds you so close to him you feel like you might melt into each other as he releases pulse after shuddering pulse of his essence into you.

He cums so much. You can feel his hot semen fill you up and then spill out like it's a waterfall. He's not letting go of you, his face hidden in your hair as he recovers from the star-shattering pleasure of finally, finally being one with you.

"I love you." He mutters, voice breaking.

...

He's crying. That lone thought destroys something inside you and you start feverishly kissing his jaw, his cheek, his neck, anything you can reach as you try to soothe him.

Don't cry don't cry don't cry—

You feel him starting to fade in your arms. You can feel yourself starting to fade.

Nonononono— Maker, please—

He pulls away from you and you finally see his face. 

He looks lost. His dark lashes are wet with tears, his mouth is curved in a confused frown and that's when you realize that he loves you so much, but he doesn't know how to process the feeling. He's like a panicked child and you are fading. And he’s always going to remember this moment, but you won’t.

You scream out his name, his real name.

…

And then you wake up, sobbing all over yourself, unable to remember. 

Epel tries his best to comfort you, but you don't stop crying for a long time.

___

Life goes on.

You have a part-time job at a beach bar, on the coastline that extends about 60 miles away from the village.

Epel hates that you have to travel so far when you could just help him out at the farm like you usually do, but you’ll be attending NRC coming September, and you want to save some pocket money for you and Epel to spend on all the cool city stuff you can’t find in your hole of a town.

Beau likes to walk you to the bus stop. Epel would too, but you won’t let him waste his time on you when he has his own work to take care of. Your lamb companion stops following you when the dirt road opens to the fields, getting distracted by the dandelions sprinkled at the edges of the village. 

"See you later, Beau." You chuckle, knowing he will go back to the farm as soon as he gets bored. Beau ignores you and munches away.

The bus stop isn't far, a lone plastic port on a background of sunflowers. As per usual you're the only one here, but the occasional horse and buggy passes by, and the farmers who live in the nearby granges all greet you with cheerful smiles on their faces. They all know where you're headed and wish you a good day at work. You really can't keep anything to yourself in such a small community.

The commute to the beach takes almost an hour. The road zig-zags and then straightens towards the coastline. You're almost tempted to doze off, but finding your way to the beach if you miss your stop is going to be a pain in the ass, so you force yourself to stay awake, keeping your eyes on the picturesque horizon and daydreaming about your mysterious man with the emerald eyes.

You always think about him when you’re riding this bus.

…

You should probably stop being so obsessed with him.

___

The sun is almost in the middle of the sky when you get to the beach bar, and as per usual, it's a crowded mess. This is the infernal hour, and not only because it's hot as sin.

There's people everywhere, craving drinks and food before they go lay down on their beach towels for the rest of the day, their flip-flops leaving sand in every corner of the bar that you'll be sweeping for an eternity. Screaming children run this and that way like they're high on vitamin gummies. Their melting popsicles leave a sticky trail on the ground. They step on it and spread liquid sugar everywhere.

…

Why do you work here again? 

…

Because the pay is good, and your coworker is cute.

Said coworker perks up when he sees you. His ears give an excited wiggle (Maker, he's adorable) and he shoots you a smirk that shows his little fangs, "Ah, kitten! Always a sight for sore eyes." He hisses a 'kishishishi' that you've learned to recognize as his laughter, his closed eyes looking like little half-moons.

"Now move your bum and go change. I need my sla—coworker to serve some tables outside.”

Figures. His lazy ass hates leaving the coolness of the bar to handle the customers sitting outside.

“Is that how you ask for favors, Ruggie?~" You tease him as you step behind the counter and head for the changing rooms in the back.

"I'd smooch ya as a treat but snoggin's not allowed in front of the children." He gives you a cheeky smile. One of the moms around the bar throws him a glare, but he shamelessly ignores it. 

You shake your head and grin to yourself. At least you have him around to make this job a little more bearable.

___

“I am dying.” You groan and rest your head on the counter, the coolness of the wood soothing your flushed face, “Why did I take this job anyway? I don't need the money! I can just live off the land with my lamb companion and eat apple jam for the rest of my days."

Ruggie snorts next to you. He finishes cleaning a beer glass and places it back on the decorative shelf behind you, “Says the one who only works half a shift.”

You turn your head to look at him, cheek smushed against the counter. Rush hour is finally over, but god, you're in pieces. Waiting tables is not as easy as it sounds, and dealing with entitled moms on vacation is a torture worse than stepping on two Legos at the same time.

The sun is starting to set. The blue sky fades into a gentle orange above the deep indigo of the calm sea. Your shift is almost over, but Ruggie will have to stay here for a while longer.

"I'm not a masochist like you." Your eyes follow him as he wipes, cleans, moves, washes and dries plates and glasses at half the speed it takes you to do it. He's like a super cleaning pro.

"Ye gotta work if you want ta eat." He pops open a can of peach tea, then pours it in a glass filled with ice.

"It's not masochism, it's the law of the Savannah." He places the glass right in front of your face. You lift your head off the counter and wrap your hands around the cold beverage as he shoots you a mischievous look. He waits for you to take a sip before adding: "But it's nice ta know you're so interested in my sexual preferences."

You choke.

He laughs that kishishishi sound.

As you wipe your mouth with your wrist and send him a half-assed glare, a familiar sparkle sizzles the air between you.

You bask in the sudden heat for a second, watching as Ruggie's blue-gray eyes trace a slow path down your body.

This kind of flirting is… not uncommon between the two of you, but it never really leads to anything, if only because you're both stuck manning the bar and you can't really leave the place unattended.

But something you can't help but wonder… would he act on it if you two were alone and away from trying eyes? Would you act on it? Ruggie is very cute… and witty and funny and reliable...

Regardless of your feelings on the matter, his casual teasing makes you feel like the hottest person on this beach, so you don't discourage it. You take another sip of tea, sighing through your nose at how pleasant the cold beverage feels when it runs down your throat.

...

"Uh…" Ruggie suddenly looks away, his cheek tinged the lightest shade of pink, "You may uh… want to take that shirt off, kitten."

...

What?

You look at him like he's grown another head.

"Excuse me?" You must have sounded more outraged than you feel, because your voice sends Ruggie into an embarrassed panic.

"N-not like that! It's just…! You've been sweating a lot and your shirt's gone transparent! I can see everythin' from here— I mean, what if a perverted old man walks in and sees you like that?"

You look down at your white shirt. It wasn't visible while you were wearing your green apron, but you can indeed see the outline of your swimsuit peek out from under the wet fabric, and you figure your wet back looks the same. Oops.

"Ah shit, sorry I didn't notice." You stand up and Ruggie turns his head away at the speed of light.

"No no… s'fine I have— a jacket you can wear while you walk home if ya need it."

Your lips quirk in a grateful smile as you head for the changing room, "Thank you! You're the best, Ruggie!"

"Yeah, yeah…" he breathes, quietly rubbing his temples as soon as you're out of the room.

___

Left alone in an empty beach bar, Ruggie barely resists the urge to slam his head against the counter. His shoulders are burning like he's been marked like cattle, and all he wants to do is to walk into the ocean until the waves swallow him completely. Maybe the abhorrent heat that singes his skin would fucking disappear then. And if not, at least the cold water would kill his boner.

This happens every fucking time. Every fucking time. He should be smarter than this, and yet he always falls for the same tricks, and the worst part is that he's tricking himself. Ruggie knows that flirting with you is akin to showing burning coals in his abdomen. He gets so fucking excited his entire body starts tingling with electricity, which is not the ideal state to be when you're at work.

And yet he still does it anyway.

Maybe he really is a masochist.

And maybe he should actually bend you over this counter and finally get rid of the frustration that's been building up inside him for the past two months.

And oh God, you're going to the same school as him in September. You're going to be prancing around in your little uniform, calling him 'senpai' and shit and he's going to have to go through his heat while being tortured like that.

Ruggie pours himself a glass of ice-cold water and downs it in one gulp.

Yeah, he's fucked. 

___

"Epel! Carry me!~" You cling to your friend, Grandma and Grandpa chuckling at your antics from the sofa and the armchair respectively.

Having finished washing the dishes, Epel wipes his hands on a dishcloth and pushes you away with his elbow, "No thanks. I'm tired too ya know."

This is not the first time you've done this song and dance. With how little you've been sleeping lately, you're always looking for excuses to be carried around by Epel. Your legs feel like jello, you are not walking all the way to the barn tonight. Just changing into your pajamas has been hard enough.

"Yeah, but you slept like a rock all night!" You hug him from behind and rest your lips against his shoulder, giving him an unimpressed look from over his shoulder, "I woke up to you drooling all over my shirt multiple times."

Epel flushes the color of the fruit he's named after and mumbles something unintelligible. He waves goodnight to his grandparents and so do you, then he struggles towards the front door, pretty much having to drag you across the hallway.

"If you're this tired then why don't ya just quit the beach job already?"

The two of you step outside, greeted by the loud crying of the cicadas. There's not a cloud above you, the stars clearly visible in the inky blue of the night.

"I can't do that. Ruggie needs me."

Epel scoffs. It's the exact same sound he made when he saw you come home wearing your coworker's jacket. 

"Why don't ya go ask yer darlin' Ruggie to carry ya then?" His accent gets more jumbled as his irritation grows. Still, for all his fussing, Epel bends down and waits for you to climb on his shoulders. 

You do so happily, nuzzling into him like a spoiled cat.

A pair of emerald eyes flashes behind your eyelids, but you shrug it off.

"Sorry but I'm too drunk to go back to the beach to ask him."

"Only you can get drunk after two glasses of apple cider." Epel smirks, ignoring you when you hit his arm and start whining again.

__

You lay down onto Epel's checkered blanket like a starfish.

"Where am I supposed ta sleep? On the ground?" Epel turns the lantern off, then lights the incense to keep away mosquitoes and other bugs and places it on the windowsill.

He turns towards you with his hands on his hips, watching as you lay in your shared nest without a care in the world, and sighs. So spoiled.

"You can sleep on top of me, I don't care."

Epel almost chokes on his saliva.

You laugh at his flustered face. It almost looks like he's angry, eyes wide and an outraged blush on his cheeks.

You open your arms for him, "Come on! It's not like we won't end up in this position in the morning anyway."

It’s true. Epel often rolls on top of you in his sleep, and nothing you do ever seems to shake him off or wake him up. You figure you can just get right to it, since he apparently loves resting his head on your chest while he snores.

Your friend closes the distance between you with three hesitant steps. "... You're such a moron, seriously." He mumbles, kneeling between your legs and then draping himself over you, careful not to crush you with his weight. He smells like apples, as always. His cotton pajamas and his fluffy hair make him the perfect cuddle buddy. You sigh contently into his hair and wrap your arms tighter around his back.

It’s quiet for a bit. Epel’s weight is strangely comforting over you. The sound of his steady breaths is a familiar lullaby, and you quickly find yourself floating in that comfy, tingly space between sleep and wake.

…

“Do you do this with Ruggie too?” 

Epel mutters so quietly you almost don’t hear him. He doesn’t say it accusingly just… like he’s sulking.

“... What?” Any semblance of sleep disappears from your mind as you catch his dejected tone of voice, “You mean like hugging?— Of course not.” You bring a hand to his hair and start scratching his skull like you know he likes it, and you feel him relax in your arms.

…

…

“Have you ever kissed him?”

Okay, now you’re definitely wide awake.

You look down at him, trying to catch his expression, “Epel, what are you talking about?”

He raises his head and pins you down with a demanding, silvery gaze. You sigh and lay your head back down, closing your eyes as you think of the best way to answer him.

“I haven’t kissed him.” You open your eyes and catch Epel’s expression shift just a little. He tries to keep an impassive front, but you can tell he’s relieved, “But I haven’t kissed you either.” You could maybe understand the cuddle comparison, since Epel is your designated snuggle friend, but who you kiss or don’t kiss shouldn��t matter to him.

Right?

“... Do you want to?” 

Your breath catches in your throat. Everything seems to still around you. Your heartbeat speeds up as you look into Epel's eyes. You know he's pretty manly despite his soft features, but he's never been so… forward before. You two have always been like siblings, so you really didn't think Epel felt that way about you. Maybe he's just joking?

… He's not. His eyes dart to your lips and darken, like there's a thunderstorm inside his gaze. Soft blue turns to rainy gray.

Do you want to?

…

"Yes." You think Epel stops breathing, but you don't have time to think about it because he's suddenly leaning towards you, stopping only when his lips are a few centimetres away from yours.

His labored breaths fan your lips and send a flurry of tingles down your abdomen…

___

❥ How do you handle this situation with Epel?

⟶ Lay back and let Epel take the lead. You deserve this after being teased in your dreams by your mystery man and teased in real life by your hyena coworker. Besides, you kind of want to see what your stubborn Epel is capable of in bed... (sub!deerlet content)

⟶ Touch him, claim him, make him beg for the next kiss. With the way he’s always clinging to you, you suspect this is what Epel has always wanted anyway. (dom!deerlet content)

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[anxiouslyfred]

Fighting Styles

for @dukexietyweek‘s day 2 prompt of Swapping

Summary: Virgil knows how to fight as Thomas’s primary defensive side, but after a comment about Roman when they’d been sparring he decides to try and improve and be more unpredictable with the least predictable side around.

Warnings: fighting, sparring, a couple innuendos

/\/\

Out of all the sides Thomas had, Virgil was the primary defence system. He was the one on the look out for alerts and always ready to get Thomas out of there whether that was by escaping or fighting and that meant he had to know how to fight. He learnt from copying movies and paying extra attention to any fight scenes Thomas did on stage. Stage fighting would never be real, but it included at least some things that could be useful in a fight. Logan had even provided Virgil with multiple martial arts books when he fully understood the extent that he had to protect Thomas.

Roman always claimed to be a fighter, a Knight even, but for all his extravagant attempts in the imagination Virgil could never see any form or ability in the way he fought. Honestly he was convinced that Roman only knew how to fight in formal duels and made up everything else when going on quests. When he'd first been accepted he had hoped to be able to spar with Roman in real contact fights but quickly dropped the suggestion after getting taken on a quest.

“Come on, I know you can fight. There were all those books in your room last time I visited. Don't you want to get some practical experience in?” Roman was whining. Honestly if he'd known leaving the books visible on his shelf would lead to this Virgil would have buried them in the garden anytime he wasn't reading them.

He couldn't go all in for the battle. He knew too many different techniques and forms of hand to hand, aside from simply not wanting to do anything which might harm Roman. Instead for the entire afternoon, Virgil watched, played the defensive as long as he could before laying Roman out with a few repeated moves. It was learning how to fight for fun almost, with nothing at stake given Roman wasn't likely to try and harm him either.

Eventually though Roman sighed, moving away instead of asking another go. “You're too predictable in how you fight, Virge. Where's the black knight going to go if someone actually tries to attack us?” He pronounced, dusting off his outfit and looking around the hall he'd created for their fight.

“Are you needing criticism in return because I thought we're trying to be nice to the ego for a while?” Virgil snarked back, raising an eyebrow when a frown was shot at him. “Guess I'll go find Remus then. If anyone knows how to be unpredictable, it's that trash monster.”

He didn't give Roman a chance to protest that statement, sinking out immediately. It was already pretty clear that Roman would try to follow up his comment about being predictable with an offer to teach Virgil formal duelling but The Duke knew that just as well as any Prince, and would probably offer without any farce day of fighting beforehand.

“Arm yourself! I'm stealing your ability to fight!” The cry came as soon as Virgil appeared in the main living space, and he immediately ducked to the floor and rolled out of the way.

“How about you teach me yours and I'll teach you mine instead?” Virgil throws the innuendo out, hoping if nothing else the double meaning would distract Remus from the attack. It got his request out too which was useful.

Remus had already reared around, morning star above his head for another swipe. “Like Uncle Iroh? Multiple pieces mixed together to make us stronger? I got the weapons collection to prove that already.”

“Don't need your ideas today, just a fighting style to mimic. I've got my knives. You're already armed so lets focus on that!” Virgil insisted, not fighting in when he felt Remus dropping them both into the imagination. It was probably less likely to cause damage or others to get hurt if they weren't in the main area anyway.

Fighting Remus was completely different to Roman. The Prince had the forms of a knight, and was very quick with the moves, he had a sharp control that made following the movements easily and a rhythm that even if you couldn't predict completely what came next, the beat it would happen on was clear. Remus only had occasional moves the a knight might use, and none of it could be related to music or patterns at all. He was wild flung movements, already pulling some other limb into the fray and of course that included ones which rightfully shouldn't exist.

It was perfect to fight against when concerned over what dangers or attacks could happen in the real world and Virgil threw himself into it, only resisting from copying some of the moves so they could learn from each other.

“Can't decide if I want to give up and let you beat me into the ground or if I should start doing this!” Remus quipped, backing off only for a second as he changed his morning star out for knives similar to Virgil's.

A thrilled smirk found its way onto Virgil's lips. “Only if you don't mind me doing this.” He approved, letting an extra arm come out to grab at Remus's first swipe starting the fight again.

It wasn't quite sparring but fighting didn't fit when there was no malice or actual wish to hurt between them, but it was the best test for Virgil's skills and ability to adapt that he'd faced for a while. It was even better than the times that the imagination was left wild, without any intentional influence from either Creativity.

They were fighting with all of their skills but also copying things each other did later on in the fight.

“Tell me we're doing this again, or let me worship at your feet cause my knees refuse to stand from the work over you just gave me.” Remus cackled, collapsed on the floor only when neither of them had the energy left to carry on fighting.

“How about tomorrow you bring the formal duelling out and slowly introduce the dirty fighting while I start out with just my martial arts and no weapon?” Virgil suggested.

It felt like the beginning of something far bigger than a fighting technique swap, and Virgil couldn't wait for the next time Roman tried to suggest they spar. He was already consistently winning but this way the spars would be over before they began and he had an actual partner to fight beside after them.

[redex-writes]

A Way Out Snip 1

I’ve got so many things in my google drive that I ended up dropping for one reason or another, so I figured what the hell? So have some little snips of things that I’ve mostly forgotten about by now but can’t bring myself to delete 

In which Vincent is scared, but Leo is stubborn.

Something had changed.

Leo didn’t really think much of it at first. They had more important things to worry about--even after getting to safety, they had to be vigilant, make sure they weren’t leaving any trail behind. It was a never-ending job, one that exhausted both of them to the core.

Something changed inside of Vincent the night they escaped, though; he could tell that much. It was like a weight had been lifted off of him, which Leo supposed wasn’t that far off. Though he’d been furious at first--of course he had, how could he not be--when it became clear that they needed to rely on one another, the pain and anger and hurt needed to be pushed back. Everything he felt needed to be shoved out of his mind until they were safe, until a time where Leo could finally beat the shit out of Vincent.

That time never came. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he figured he always knew it wouldn’t--there had been something from the very beginning, something that planted itself between them from the first time they fought together and only grew bigger and more significant as time went on. And the first night they were able to actually stop to rest, ducking into an abandoned cabin somewhere in the thickest part of the woods, the time came. Leo looked at Vincent, where he was trying to coax a fire to life in the old fireplace to ward off the biting chill of the northern air. He stood up; Vincent looked over at him. He walked over, stood over Vincent; looked down at him for a few long moments.

Reached down and grabbed the front of his shirt. Pulled him up, easier with the way Vincent instinctively leaned into the movement.

Cupped the back of Vincent’s neck with his other hand as he pulled him into a kiss.

They didn’t fight that night; they didn’t fight the night after.

They didn’t fight until almost a month later, when they pulled their twice-discounted, near-wreck of a truck into a little town in Maine, and Vincent suggested they go their separate ways.

Leo stood up so fast that he smacked the back of his skull on the trunk, where he’d been grabbing their meagre possessions to take to the motel room they’d got. He cursed loudly, pressing his gloved hand to the back of his head, ignoring the pain as he looked at Vincent in shock.

“What?”

“It’s a small town,” Vincent said; he wasn’t looking at Leo. He kicked a chunk of slush with the toe of his boot as he continued.

“If anyone recognizes us--”

“If anyone recognizes us,” Leo shot back hotly, “then we’ll get the hell out of dodge. I’m not leaving you.”

Vincent winced, flinching away from the words.

Leo stalked over, the slushy dredges of snow making wet sounds as he closed the distance and took Vincent’s face in both of his hands; the threadbare knit of the gloves pressed into Vincent’s cheeks where his thumbs framed his face as he tilted Vincent’s head up to look him dead in the eye.

“I’m not leaving you,” he repeated firmly.

Vincent was a stubborn ass; had been from the day Leo had met him. He paced the floor of the motel room, listed every way things could go wrong if they both stayed, yelled a little bit. But, Leo was nothing if not a pain in the ass. He planted his feet firmly, listed counterpoints, yelled a little louder. It was exhausting; hours of back-and-forth that neither of them wanted. 

It ended with Leo in Vincent’s arms that night, blankets pulled over both of them as they lay still in the heavy silence brought by the end of their argument. Leo’s cheeks were sticky with dried tears, and Vincent’s voice was rough from crying; but when Leo looked up from where his head had been pillowed on Vincent’s chest and looked him in the eye and whispered, “Don’t run,” Vincent took a shaky breath through his nose and kissed his forehead.

Vincent could be a man of few words, but by then Leo could read him better than any book.

One night in the motel turned into two, which turned into four, which turned into a week before Vincent came back one morning, carrying two breakfast bagels and an armful of newspapers. They spread them out on the floor and sat with their food and some permanent markers, circling any “Help Wanted” ads that might be a good fit. When Leo got up to throw away their trash, he glanced over Vincent’s shoulder to see him pouring over a pile of “For Rent” listings. He leaned in and tapped one of them with his finger, startling Vincent.

“That one,” he said casually, before grabbing Vincent’s empty food bag.

The ad was for an apartment in an area of town nearly hidden from the rest by rows of scraggly trees and rundown houses. It was the part of the town that most of the citizens would be happy to forget existed, including the people living there, populated by a few small stores and rental homes. The landlord was past the point of trying to upsell the place; she simply looked them up and down and stated, “If you can fix shit and keep to yourselves, your rent is part of your pay.”

They didn’t have much to move in, but Vincent still insisted that they keep the “important” stuff in their bags by the door, in case they ever needed to make a run for it. Leo only had to trip on the duffel bags a handful of times coming back with groceries before he convinced Vincent to at least put them under the bed.

[end]

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Cobalt Short Story

The Checkered Half of Edward Baxter’s Life

Feel free to message me about possible corrections, and please consider supporting the creators by purchasing digital copies of the official releases: Novel || Manga || Fanbook. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

Raw || Index

He met him for the first time when attending a boarding school in Switzerland.

He had no plans for homecoming even as summer vacation came about. It was better to stay in Switzerland as things were noisy at home, his father had told him on the phone, and he was not a fourteen-year-old innocent enough not to catch onto the meaning of “I’ll have to look after you if you come back and this would reduce the time I have for my research” that lay underneath.

There was no helping it, so he secluded himself in the library. However, the library was full of children like him, with no place to return to. He gradually started feeling depressed.

Switzerland, which Queen Elizabeth also loved, had many picturesque tourist attractions. There was no lack of places to have a fun time from dawn to dusk and a pipe organ concert was being held at a church in town, which was quite close to the school, so he imprudently thought that it would be safe even at night.

Since he had an unnecessarily exemplary daily conduct, it was easy to earn permission for exiting the campus. The question of where he was going was disregarded, and it was hard for him when a nuance drifted about, saying that he should go play around a little, if anything. He already knew by then that he was most likely a child who did not specialize much at behaving like a child.

The summer city was brimming with sightseers. Made of brown bricks, the cityscape that looked like those from fairy tales was decorated everywhere with pink and white potted flowers. The city seemed to have many watersides, with restaurants lined up by the river shores, a big black dog that was probably someone’s pet dragging its leash around and waggling, looking like it wanted him to play with it. Just when he thought of playing a little, its owner apparently called for it from afar, so the dog turned its body around and rushed away.

The city was fun at night. Being able to get the feeling that he was with someone even without being accompanied was just what he needed.

He only realized that he was lost long after he had started losing his way. He was certain there was a church in that area where a concert was taking place, but while roaming around, what came into his field of vision was nothing but apartment complexes, garbage dumps and tunnels with no signs of life. He had apparently entered a residential area where the public order was not too good, but did not know how to get out. As he decided to just go back the way he had come from, there were people standing behind him once he turned on his heels.

“Yo.”

He was able to tell right away that they were around seventeen to eighteen years old because the boys were wearing parkas and baseball caps. With such looks that one would not see so often in a waterside of bustling terrace cafés, they spoke while chewing gums. Just as an earl would sometimes do, he pretended not to have heard them.

“Shortie, what’cha doin’ out here? Where yer papa and mama?”

“They not around? You alone?”

“Then don’tcha have a wallet with ya?”

“You’re as pretty as a doll, huh. Can’t talk?”

“Young Master, could you please spare us a blessing?”

Cold sweat beaded on his back as he wondered what would happen if he refused. He had begun having boxing lessons, but the classes were strictly separated by age and body weight, so he could not think of it as training for fighting opponents who were clearly older than him.

Just when unpleasant memories started whirling in his head as he pondered what he should do, what he had to do, what he was supposed to do to cut his way through a time like this all by himself, someone most certainly grabbed his arm from the side.

“Hey, Edward! Edward, isn’t that you?”

For a second, he did not know who the owner of that familiar voice was.

Brownish blond hair and light blue eyes, a knit vest and black slacks. Shiny leather shoes and an armor-like smile.

“Je... Jay!”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s me, Jay. I’m happy you remembered.”

The one who went around the boy from behind and hugged him from the shoulder was his cousin, Jeffrey, who was two years older than him. Even as the boy stared at him with eyes that asked why he was in a place like this and how he had gotten here, Jeffrey maintained the same-old theatrical face that he pulled off so well and hid behind his back the one who had the status of a younger brother to him.

“What’re you doing in this place? You’ll be late for the meeting if you don’t hurry. Won’t your uncle be mad if you make him wait any longer? He’s a really scary person.”

“I-I’m sorry. I will be going right away.”

“That’s it, so bye!”

Tightly hugging the shoulder of the one that he was supposed to protect, Jeffrey left the scene. Perhaps due to him handling the matter with such a lighthearted and loud voice, there were no signs of the two chasing after them.

“That was terrifying.”

“We’re leaving this place.”

“All right.”

Jeffrey walked in long strides from the semi-darkness where a fishy smell drifted about to the main street lined with the glow of light poles. The boy walked keeping his body close to Jeffrey’s, as it did not seem like the latter intended to let go of the shoulder that he was firmly holding onto otherwise.

“Honestly, good thing I was around.”

“How...?”

“‘How’, you ask? I’m your super hero, so isn’t it obvious that I’d rush to you when you’re in trouble?”

“Not that; what is the truth?”

“I meant it as the truth, though... Kidding. It was just a coincidence. If I’m not wrong, today’s the day that summer vacation started for you, right? My school was a bit faster to give us leisure time, so I planned to ambush you and make a surprise. But when I visited your school, they said you’d gone out all by yourself, so I was the surprised one,” the older cousin said cheerfully.

He was a man with a big heart, the kind that constantly changed his voice tone and facial expression as he spoke, who was always smiling and accepted first-thing the evaluation that he was charismatic yet shady. Moreover, he continuously took his little brother, who had been born to free-spirited parents and was younger than him, under his feathers. For the boy, his existence was much more than that of an older brother.

At the words “I’m the only one here”, the boy realized that he was relieved. The earl and the even older cousin from whom he would have to conceal this were not there.

“You okay?”

“Yes, but the earl and Brother Henry are not here.”

“Father was in Cannes, I guess. Henry is following him to make appearances. Looks like it’s a busy season for the high society.”

“How awful.”

“I wonder if they’re getting caught up with playing around. Aah, but Henry is a serious guy. Piano practice might be more fun to him than a casino.”

“I think I understand how he feels.”

“That’s right. Let’s go to Cannes with him someday too. Let’s live it up in a casino or something.”

“If I become penniless from buying too many books by then, what will we do?”

“Leave it to me. I might be like this, but I’m hoping to enter the financial business. I’ll lend you as much money as you want. With damn high interest.”

“You little—”

They shoved each other around as if to hug one another, and by the time they had all but arrived at the main street, filled as it was with human presence, the boy finally released a sigh. That was dreadful. He was not very used to being threatened. At school, he had already grown somewhat used to having his appearance mocked or people using the words “I’ll throw the trash away for you” as an excuse to touch his body, and had come up with countermeasures to some extent, but troubles outside the school were always beyond hypothesis.

As he gave an abrupt shudder upon recalling being sandwiched from front and back by two older boys, something landed on top of his head with a tap. It was Jeffrey’s hand.

Patting his golden-haired head in light rolls with the palm of his hand, the boy who was two years older grinned at him. “Well, first things first, you should start with not getting lost.”

“You were watching me?”

“I wasn’t. I ran around here and there because of that. It had me out of breath, but I was a prize-worthy elite actor for not letting it show, huh? I want a trophy.”

“Then how did you know I was lost?”

“You’re not the kind of kid who’d go to a place like that on purpose, Ricky.”

At that moment, the boy had the sudden realization that his cousin was a child merely two years above him, and so he was supposed to be protected, not to be protecting someone else. Fearing kidnappings, everyone in the earl’s estate had an enormous amount of money on insurance payouts. The fact that he would rather be someone who had next to no worries in going outside of school than have the presence of the bodyguards who would be tagging along with him in normal circumstances made the boy shiver again.

“Hum... Jeff, is everything all right for you? My apologies for that. Your guards—”

“You’re still on about that? Y’know, you could just leave it as ‘that was terrifying’. I lost my guards. I mean, it’s no fun with them. I think I’ll get a call from Father lecturing me again, but isn’t it kinda disturbing to have two old men in suits clinging to my back even when I go see my dear little brother’s face?”

He had probably taken that measure due to foreseeing that the bodyguards would scary his cousin, the boy realized. Before he sank into an apologetic sea once more, Jeffrey found a random shop at the side of the road and took a seat in the quiet interior. He ordered two lemonades. As he was striking a lighthearted talk about how they were perfect for Switzerland in the summer...

“Hum.”

“What?”

“Who was that Edward from just now?”

“Uh? Aah, no one. I let it out of my mouth without much thought.”

Jeffrey did not say, “It’s because they might memorize your name if I were so stupidly honest to call you Richard”. His consideration from not wanting to say it and expressly scare his cousin, as well as his carefreeness of not deeming it necessary to be said, were comfortable for the boy.

Edward, Edward, he repeated in his heart the unfamiliar name, and after drinking just a little bit of the lemonade, the boy whispered intermittently, “It’d be good if you had a name like that too.”

“Uh?”

As he said, “Like Edward”, Jeffrey laughed.

“Isn’t that ‘Jay’?”

“That was just because I didn’t manage to say ‘Jeffrey’...”

“Hmm,” Jeffrey interjected with an indifferent attitude, sucking onto the straw of his lemonade.

Aah, it’s the face of someone who’s planning something fun, the boy noted, and as he laughed a little, his older cousin showed a smile three times happier than that.

“Then give me one.”

“Uh?”

“You can give me a name like that too. Let’s make them secret names between us.”

“For Brother Henry too?”

“Keep it a secret from Henry.”

The smile of his cousin, who laughed without any maliciousness, was as sweet as nectar. The boy displayed a facial expression of sincere reassurance, then began turning over the name dictionary inside his head with “not this, not that either”. No matter what, his favorite names either were related to individuals from classic literature or leaned towards Japanese people, but none of them suited Jeffrey’s face.

The boy made up his mind about the fact that a basic name would be best and raised his head, peeking at his cousin’s eyes. “James.”

“‘James’?”

“James.”

“Huhu, roger that, Edward. I’m James, yeah? Aah, what’s my family name? Anything but ‘Bones’, ‘kay? I don’t like martini that much.”

“Jeff, you already drink?”

“We’re talking about James now and Jeff has nothing to do with it.”

While he jokingly raised the lemonade’s straw, spinning it in twirls like a magic wand, the boy observed him as if looking at a gemstone that emanated a dazzling shine. He was a wonderful person who could do anything and who showed concern for the boy – more than that, the boy considered him someone special and could not come home to anyone else in the world, no matter where he searched. He was a treasure that the boy most definitely could not exchange for anything, not even if an ancient king came up to him with an elephant loaded to the brim with pearls, rubies and emeralds on its back, and whenever the boy was in bad health, he would always think that, if they were ever pulled apart to places where they could never see each other again, he would cry profusely.

He was the one who promptly contacted the boy whenever anything happened in general, driving away the latter’s nightmares, so the honor of granting a name to someone like that gradual and silently filled the boy’s heart, turned into a word and overflowed, “Ya’aburnee.”

“Hm?”

As Jeffrey had apparently not heard it well, the boy repeated the word for him, “Ya’aburnee. The word is cut between the ‘ya’ and the ‘aburnee’. The accent is on the first vowel.”

“‘Ya’aburnee’, huh? It’s pretty yet has a mysterious ring to it.”

“It is Arabic.”

“Learned a new word again, huh, you damn prodigy?”

“I am no prodigy.”

“I meant an ‘effort prodigy’. ‘Cause you’re a hardworker. Okay, my secret name is James Ya’aburnee. Edward, what about you?”

“Uh?”

“What’s Edward’s family name?”

Taken aback, the boy hung his head after a moment of indecision, looking depressed. When Jeffrey asked what happened, the boy timidly raised his face. “Hum... The two are real brothers, so they have the same family name.”

As he said so with a voice that sounded like it was fading, Jeffrey’s eyes widened just slightly, and after nodding with a “hun-hun”, he grinned. That smile of Jeffrey’s was even now said to be difficult for his parents to distinguish whether it was fake or not, but the boy was able to tell the difference. If a dimple appeared on his left cheek, it was not a fake smile. Jeffrey himself had told him that.

There was a dimple on his elder cousin’s left cheek.

“Heeh~! That so?”

“It is so.”

“Then James and Edward are really just like us.”

“Uh?”

“I mean, we’re real brothers, right? That’s how I think.”

As Jeffrey ill-manneredly drank the remaining part of his lemonade in slurps, the clerk made a disgusted face at him. The headline on the magazine that she had in hands read, “How to Date Rich Men”, and so the boy felt like saying something rude to her, such as, “I think the person you just glared at is probably richer than the ones in that magazine”. It felt like he could do anything that the boy usually was unable to. He was cheerful, bright and warm at heart.

As he sat quietly without saying anything, Jeffrey smiled subtly and gently rested his hand on the boy’s golden-haired head. “Wanna go back to school? Or not?”

“I want to be together for a bit longer.”

“Okay. Then let’s do that.”

Holding hands with his “little brother” of two years bellow him, Jeffrey escorted him to a hotel near his dormitory, converting into a parent and calling the boy’s school to request permission for him to spend the night out, and after checking into one of those cheap inns that was would be crammed with skiers in the winter, the two immersed themselves in conversation on their bed the all night long.

Jeffrey talked about their homes and families. About his friends. About financing, which he was studying. About drama theory. About how he felt like throwing up from agony when preparing for an assignment where he completely slipped into the role of a prime minister who had only managed to rescue 150 civilians alive out of 300 that had been taken hostage by terrorists. About how he cracked up when he was told, “Everyone will stop trusting you” after he showed off too much the chameleon acting that he had mastered in drama class.

Jeffrey’s talks were not tiring – all topics were interesting, adding gemstones of lustrous gleam to the boy’s heart one after another. In return, the boy talked about the satisfying life he led in at the Swiss lodging house. About the bright sunlight, the climate that was warmer than England’s, the ever-white snowy peaks overlooked in the distance, the lively teachers who were like sportsmen. About how he not have many friends, but believed that it was due to him not conducting himself like a child, so there was no helping it, and how he would not mind it much if he did not have anyone, as long as he had Jeffrey.

As he was sprawled on the bed while resting his cheek on one hand, Jeffrey tipped Richard’s head back down. “You shouldn’t please me so much. Or else we won’t be able to stay away from each other.”

“What is so bad about that?”

“When you start hating me, I don’t want you to think, ‘I hate him but I can’t let go of him’.”

“I believe something like that will never happen. So that is okay.”

“There you go again saying something that makes me happy... Y’know, Ricky, people have this thing called a ‘rebellious phase’.”

“It seems I do not.”

“Plus, it’s pretty scary afterwards; I read a paper that said reactions also happen.”

“I do not have that, but thanks.”

After rubbing each other’s heads into a mess, they resumed the talk about Edward and James. Where the two of them lived, if their relationship was a favorable one, if they had any other acquaintances and what they usually did to pass the time. Dreams and jokes mixed up with the human drama built up amidst their sleepiness, and so they became yakuza, lived in Japan and fought over whether or not to put wasabi on sushi, but were the good-natured kind of duo that would always make up immediately. They did not endeavor illegal activities and instead were yakuza who respected the old-fashioned thinking of “humanity and justice”, of lending a helping hand to people in trouble, and did not bear tattoos as they were a little scary. Amongst the yakuza, there was a pledge called sworn siblinghood, but since they were blood-related siblings, so there was no need for such a thing.

By the time they had started to doze off, the boy woke up with a start. Jeffrey was not making a drowsy face. His bottomless eyes, which appeared to be looking into somewhere far away, even so maintained their focus immersed on Richard’s face.

“Hey, Ricky, what’s the continuation to that story?”

“Hueh?”

“What happens to Edward and James in the distant future?”

Amidst the sensation that he seemed to be airily drifting towards the world of dreams, the boy tilted his neck. He had no idea why Jeffrey was asking something so obvious. His mouth moved in a natural manner, “They continue getting along forever.”

“I see. Go rest already,” Jeffrey said, getting up from the single-person bed, giving him a pillow and putting a blanket over him, then tucked himself into his own bed and attempted to sleep.

He did try to fall into slumber, but upon noticing his small cousin staring at him with eyes that seemed to be imploring for something, he took his pillow and went back to the boy’s side. Like two hatchlings huddling their feathers onto each other, the two children slept while dreaming about the future.

The next morning, Jeffrey took a still sleepy-looking Richard back to school, scattering an amiable “I’m leaving him in your care” all over the place, shaking people’s hands here and there and returning to his angry-faced bodyguards’ side. Gossip ran about like gale amongst students with time to spare, saying that the second son of an earldom – a brilliant honors student even within a famous public school from England – had apparently come to see a sibling of his who was in this school, which became a rumor in the whole school at one point, but said rumor, like a mirage faintly surfacing over a lake in the summer, was gone before autumn came around.

“Let’s decide on your name.”

“Eh?”

“Calling you ‘Seigi’ would have a bad effect in a situation where there are only enemies. If I call you by a completely different name, there is the possibility that you would not be able to react, so I believe a name somewhat similar to your own is safer.”

“Then, ‘Seigi’, ‘Seigi’, ‘Seigi’... Make it ‘Seiji’.”

“Too close. Some people might mishear it as ‘Seigi’ instead. Think of a surname. I will call you by that.”

Richard had started saying odd things about perhaps having to throw fists at an accessories shop that was disseminating fake turquoises. For me to come up with a fake name. Indeed, revealing our true names even if by accident could be a dangerous situation.

I squeezed up a knowledge that I didn’t have, deep in thought. Something that sounded kind of similar to my real name. Yet was a different name. Hmm.

“‘Nakata’, ‘Nakata’, ‘Nakata’... ‘Yamada’, Yamada? No, ‘Tanaka’ is also... Ah~, I wonder which. Yamada or Tanaka?”

“Then let’s make it Yamada. Yamada Seiji-san. I will be counting on you. I am Edward Baxter.”

“Where’s ‘Richard’ as the base for that?”

“I will be in your care.”

“My pleasu~re.”

Wearing a red open-necked shirt that looked like it could show up in contests for rare clothing articles, I sat on the Jaguar’s passenger seat. However, in terms of outfit eccentricity, I didn’t feel like I could beat the man sitting next to me. White, white, white. It was thoroughly white from top to bottom, the hairstyle pulled all the way back. It was a bit of an underground person look.

“I’m checking just in case, but what kind of setting is this Edward Baxter-sensei from?”

“A messenger from the Great Universe who miraculously predicts fortunes and foresees the fate of gems.”

“Uh. Got it. I’ll do my best not to laugh.”

“Obviously. Laughing at a messenger of the Great Universe is insolence.”

“Hahaa~”

The Jaguar sped up like always. If this car had a voice, it felt like it would frantically cause a stir, asking, “Mister, aren’t you too different from usual?” but the Jaguar was reticent and loyal.

As the vehicle kept running, my nervousness increased a little. I wanted to say something, but Richard’s profile was rock-hard. It would feel awkward if I discussed about tea and snacks that had nothing to do with it here and now. But I wanted to talk. I was able to come up with just one thing when wondering what I should say.

“Is there... a family in the setting of that Baxter-sensei? Or does he not have any, since he’s a messenger of the Great Universe? Sorry. You didn’t think that far, did you?”

When I asked that, Richard briefly made a strange face. Unlike his usual refreshing smile, that expression could only be described as a “suggestive grin”, with a gaze that didn’t appear to be looking at me but at something in the distance.

Then he stated, “He has no relatives whosoever.”

“Roger that.”

And so, the two of us headed to the shop of shady history. Edward Baxter-shi, who claimed to have not a single relative, seemed to be making a just slightly sad-looking face within the glass of the windshield. However, Yamada Seiji courteously pretended that he was not at all seeing the weakness of a messenger of the Great Universe.

He had no idea what Nakata Seigi made of it, though.

[aureumjeon]

while you’re at it (m) || pjm

pairing; poolboy!jimin x noona!reader.

genre; smut, fluff, tiny angst.

summary; After finalizing your divorce papers, there was still one thing that had to be taken care of. That stupid swimming pool. Over there course of a few days, you ended up harboring feelings for one of your pool boys. Will things go as planned? Or will everything be flushed down the drain? 

warnings; brief mentions of divorce, infidelity and toxic relationship, sub!jimin, dom!reader, barely there bondage, exhibitionism, female masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex (both receiving), body worship, tit fucking, noona kink, praise kink(its jimin ofc), mild degradation, impreg kink, its basically jimin being a whiny soft baby for noona, unprotected sex, multiple orgasm, creampies, cum eating

word count;  11K+ (this was supposed to be around 7-8K only, iduno what happened really)

a/n; ahhhhhh! three minutes late but who careeees. im done, i want to sleep. the smut feels so rushed butill fix it... eventually... lmao, unedited as hell, dont mind the errors... will fix someday.  bye

@m0chilattae @ruinedbyjin <33 

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Breaking away and cutting ties from your previous and definitely toxic marriage was the best decision you've made bar none. You could no longer stomach the abuse that your now ex-husband had put you through. It was a complete and utter living hell being bound to a man who wasn't who you initially thought he was. Having him crossed out of your life (legally, too) made it a million times easier. It has been exactly seven weeks since you chucked out all of his belongings through the front door. No regrets. And you still didn't want to take notice of the huge elephant in the room — or in the backyard per se. There it sat in the middle of the unkempt grassy area surrounded by leaves and trash, in all of its filthy, disgusting, bacteria and algae infested glory. Your dreaded swimming pool.

You had put-off cleaning it the first week after your separation, saying you're too busy doing this or too preoccupied taking care of that. When in all honesty, you just didn't want to deal with it. You had no goddamn idea how to maintain it. Heck, you didn't even know how to swim. Wonwoo was the main reason why the two of you bought a house that came with it after your wedding. He said he wanted to keep his hobby of swimming alive, understandable since that's where it all began. The two of you met at a university swim meet. You were the designated journalist for that event, assigned to interview all the winners after the competition for the school's paper. Wonwoo bagged the gold medal for the two hundred-meter freestyle, and you interviewed interviewed him and that's where it took off. Everything was running smoothly. One by one every item on your life's checklist got checked-off. After five years of dating, he proposed. A year later you got married and purchased a house together and planned on having children. You even put-off your job as a columnist writer for a high-end magazine company to play out the role of a perfect wife who'd soon take care of her children. You had the ideal life with the ideal husband in an ideal house that any married woman could wish for. You had everything, and in your own little world it was perfect. Until two years into your marriage, everything went into turmoil. Wonwoo suddenly grew cold and insensitive. He didn't answer your calls and text messages whenever he was away. He didn't make love to you the way he used to during your honeymoon phase. And sometimes he would just downright refuse, saying he's too tired and that he wants to sleep instead. You endured and tolerated his behavior for another year, giving him a chance to change his ways. But we all know what happens to second chances, they're wasted. One day, Jihyo sent you a picture of Wonwoo sucking faces with a female swim trainer at the city's public pool. You could not believe it at first, you refused to. Until she sent another image, this one clear as day. It was Wonwoo, positively Wonwoo. You called your older brother Yoongi and told him everything that had happened starting from the day your relationship spiraled into disaster. Like any brother would be; he was furious. He didn't kill the guy though, only gave him a black eye and a broken nose before you threw his belongings out on the pavement. To cut the story short, you found love beside a swimming pool and ultimately gotten your heart broken because of it. When people fall out of love, heart breaks are inevitable. All the more reason as to why you just shoved the idea of cleaning the pool under the rug like small particles of dust and dirt. You just wanted to forget about it, pretend like it didn't exist. If you could only haul that thing out of the ground and throw it out like you did to him, it'd be more painless for you. You took your phone out of your handbag and texted Namjoon. You asked if he still had the number to that all around cleaning service, to which he did, thank god. After saving the number, you called it immediately. Wanting no time to be wasted. "Hello, Good morning! This is Mr. Park of Mr. Park's Cleaning Service, how can we help you?" The bubbly old man chanted his spiel. "Ah, yes, um. This is Y/n Y/l/n, I was wondering if I can avail your services?" "Of course, ma'am!" He chimed, the sound of rustling papers can be heard in the background "What will we have the pleasure of cleaning for you, Ms. Y/l/n?" His tone never changed, still enthusiastic. "Well I have this pool..." You replied quite hesitantly, "And It's been sitting here uncleaned for almost two months." You let out a breathy laugh, fairly embarrassed at your confession. "No problem, Ms. Y/l/n! We've handled worse cases. Two months is nothing! Is it just the pool or would you like us to give your whole yard a fixer-upper?" You sighed in relief. "Y-yes, that would be great! My backyard could use the help, too." "Alrighty then! You don't need to worry about anything! Can I get your contact number and full address Ms. Y/l/n?" Mr. Park sounded like a charming old man, he never judged or asked unnecessary questions, only the ones that needed to be answered. "My number's xxx-xxx-xx and my full address is xxx street, corner xxx at xxx village. When can I expect you to visit, Mr. Park?" "I'll get the boys ready and will be there in about an hour or two to check on the conditions and come up with the most effective strategy. The duration of the process usually takes about three days to a week depending on the situation. It's always better to asses the area first. We'll do the best we can do, Ms. Y/l/n!" You can hear the smile in his voice, never have you encountered someone who's this passionate about his job as much as Mr. Park. "Great! That sounds excellent! Thank you so much Mr. Park! I'll see you later!" "Thank you, too, Ms. Y/l/n! Good bye!" The call ended and you checked the clock. It was a quarter to nine, still a lot of time left before they arrive. You decided to tidy up the place, picking up dirty laundry, washing the dishes, and anything that demanded to be put in its proper place. You accomplished everything in under an hour and decided to lounge around on your couch, still in your black silk nightwear dress that rested a good five inches above your knee. To be fair, you did wake up too early for your liking, and it made you thrice as sluggish than usual. 'Only ten minutes' you reminded yourself because you still needed to shower. Your eyelids felt heavy and the softness of the pillow you were resting your head on didn't help either. 'five more minutes, then it's time to shower, I swear.' Things didn't always go according to plan, of course. You fell asleep.

++

Your little nap was interrupted by the sound of your doorbell ringing multiple times, "Ms. Y/l/n?! Is anybody home? This is Mr.Park's Cleaning Service." The man on the other side of the door yelled. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. You scramble about you couch only to fall on the floor with a loud thud, "W-wait! Just a minute!" You squealed, heading out to the nearest bathroom to grab your bathrobe and wrap it around your frame. You chugged down and gargled a cup full of mouthwash before spitting it out. "Shit..." You hissed, taming out the fly-aways of your hair and tying it up in a loose bun. Your bangs rested messily on your forehead but you didn't have the pleasure of curling it. So you opted for just sweeping it to the side, making yourself more presentable. "I'm coming!" You yelped, treading to your front door and opening it. The three boys who stood at your doorstep gave you a courteous ninety degree bow. They were wearing those baggy grey work jumpsuits but the sleeveless kind. The boys looked fairly young, with glowing skin and youthful dispositions. They moved back to their upright position and the one in the center greeted, "Good day Ms.---" his eyes widened like saucers, he looked like he had encountered a ghost, and suddenly you were extremely conscious about your disheveled appearance, tucking in stray hairs that dangled around the frame of your face behind your ears. "Ms--" he knew what he wanted to say, it was waiting for its turn to spill out from his suddenly parched mouth. But he couldn't because he was too awe struck at the image of this lovely woman standing before him. They'd done this job a couple hundred times and it was all professional, but this was the first time his heart was completely enamored by a female client. His tongue was undoubtedly caught at the back of his throat and an elbow to his rib by his friend snapped him out of it and transferred him back to reality. "Y/l/n.." He continued, shades of pink trickling his face. "My name is Park Jimin..." "You're Mr. Park?" You giggled, the way your cheeks rounded when you smile matched with your cute dimple almost sent him into the ER due to a cardiac arrest, "You sounded older on the phone." "Uh.. That was my father. I'm just Jimin." He smiled, flustered like a little boy confessing his love for his crush. You beamed at him once more after discovering his name, eyes twinkling more that ever and he caught that. He freaking caught the way your eyes glimmered at him. "If you're just Jimin, then I'm just Y/n." What the hell was that?! You internally screamed at your choice of words, pulling out the non-existent life plug in your head because you wanted to shrivel up like a dehydrated grape desiring to be a raisin and just die. "O-okay, Ms. Y/n.." the way your name rolled so sweetly out of his lips made you shudder, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long, long time spark a flame in the deepest pit of your stomach. You shouldn't be experiencing this urgent sense of infatuation towards a person you only just met, not to mention to someone this young. You reckoned that he was likely five or six years your junior, probably even more. It was a weird sensation. You had no idea where it came from but you were kinda skeptical about the concept of it and where it might lead. Did you hate it? I mean, no, not at all. Were you confused? Most definitely. "This is Jungkook," he gestured to the lad on his left. Jet-black hair, doe eyes, piercings and tattoos, okaaay he's attractive "and this is Taehyung." Your gaze moved to the left, honey brown hair, sultry stare, sharp nose and a chiseled jaw, woah he's attractive too. No wonder Mr. Park's acquiring all the deals in town! His cleaning team is total eye candy. "My dad-- I mean Mr. Park's rheumatoid started acting up a little while ago, that's why he wasn't able to come with us. I hope that's alright with you, Ms. Y/n." There it is again, he said your name again but his voice a little softer this time. He was hoping his father's absence wouldn’t upset you too much. And didn't leave a bad first impression on you. Your name slipping past his lips sent another shock wave throughout your body, faintly stirring up your insides. It took you a good second to reply because you were too busy staring at the way his tongue prodded out of mouth to wet his pink and plump lips. Shit “I-it’s fine..” You gulped, drifting your gaze to your backyard assuming he didn’t see what you just did. “I hope your father feels well soon.” You stepped back a few feet letting the boys with their big tool kits in hand enter. “May we look at the pool, Ms. Y/l/n?” The black haired boy spoke, opening his box of tools and pulling out a smaller black container. “Taehyung and I will do the water testing and everything else while Jimin-hyung here will walk you through the whole process.” “The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish!” Taehyung beamed, boxy smile and all. They all did what they said they’d do. Jungkook and Taehyung were handling all sorts of gadgets and gizmo to test the pH balance, chlorine levels and whatever they need to test. Jimin explained everything in meticulous detail, from the tools that they were using to how they’d clean it. You tried listening intently. You really did! But the addictive saccharine tone of his voice had gotten you too worked up. “And that’s about it,” Jimin happily concluded. “We can start cleaning tomorrow if it’s okay with you,” “Y/n?” He asked reluctantly, watching you stare vacuously at him. “Ah-- Yes. You guys can start tomorrow.” You smiled, flustered and red on the face. He was worried for a moment, he thought you found everything he said was boring. Because all honestly, he knew it was. Jimin dropped out of college to support his father with their family business, being the sole son and successor. It was a gamble, most of his friends would say. "Why'd you give up having an education?" or "What if it goes bankrupt?". Those words were frequently thrown around, but he stuck to his gut. Jimin never wanted anything more than maintaining his father's legacy alive. The one that his father and late-mother created and grew from the ground up. "Great! Kook, Tae, how's everything going?" He hollered to his friends who were still tinkering with their devices at the edge of the pool. "Will be done soon! Give us a minute," Taehyung replied, signaling a thumbs-up to his hyung. "Ahhh! That reminds me," You teetered blithely straight to your equally neglected shed that Wonwoo kept all his tools in. "If you need any tools, feel free to--" You tried to pry the door handle open but it wouldn't budge. "Let me get that for you, Ms. Y/n." Jimin insisted, worrying you might hurt yourself. "I'm okay," You assured the boy, solidifying your grip on the handle, and giving one last firm pull that just might do the trick. Jimin was right. Because the moment you exerted more effort into opening the door, the slim strip of metal that was affixed on the wooden surface snapped off and sent you stumbling back a few steps. You shielded your eyes with your hand and just when you thought your sorry ass was about to hit the grass, you felt something or someone, cradle your fall. A small groan from behind startled you, "W-what?" You removed your hands from your face and saw Jimin lying beneath you, hold on to you by your waist."Oh shit!" You shrieked, promptly scooting away from his lap to check if he's hurt somewhere. "J-jimin! Are you okay?!" concern laced your voice. You scanned every inch of his body for any cuts or bruises. While your face unintentionally came too close to his, he felt your warm minty breath dancing on the tip of his cupid's bow, tickling his lips that were mere centimeters away from yours. And the way his left cheek was conveniently purchased in your hand made him feel the heat blossom under his skin, and presumably creep up to his ears too. Wide-eyed and totally red in the face, Jimin hurriedly stood up from where he was planted, not forgetting to help you as well stand up as well. “I’m fine, Ms. Y/n. You don’t have to worry about--” Before the boy could barely finish his sentence, you were already pulling him by the wrist and ushering him back inside the house. He was trying so hard to resist the blush that had been wanting to be set free. “Jungkook, Taehyung!” You waved, calling out their attention. “You can come inside if you’re finished. I’ll tend to Jimin and see if he has any injuries.” “Yes ma’am!” The two boys chuckled, giving Jimin a playful smirk. “Sit down. I’ll go get my first aid kit.” You spoke before scooting towards the direction of your bathroom. The moment you’ve found yourself looking in the mirror in what seems to be the safest place you could’ve been at this moment, you allow all the accumulated steam out. “F-fuck.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. Finally being able to inhale and exhale enough air with your lungs. Every single moment with Jimin feels like there’s something constricting your chest, blocking all possible airways and cutting off the oxygen in your body. “Get it together, Y/n” You scold yourself, looking at the reflection in the bathroom mirror “You are an adult. An adult who will not let a young man fracture the little sanity you have left.” 

On your tiptoes, you reached for the small plastic box on the shelf of your bathroom, taking one last determined look in the mirror and declaring, “You got this.”  With that, you step out of the enclosed space with your recovered confidence, not looking back. And there he is again, puppy dog eyes lighting up when he saw your figure reappear in his line of vision. “Ms. Y/n.” He smiled, and there you knew how truly fucked up you were. “God, give please give me the strength.”  You chanted in your head, “I got the first aid kit. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Was all that you could say. 

++

It has been exactly five days, eight hours and forty-five minutes since Jimin started working on your backyard. Why do you know that? Well, that boy with those galaxies induced eyes, impossible plump lips and unbelievable muscular body had been lurking and finding his way through the deep recesses of your mind, desperately searching for that imaginary finish line.

Every cell in your body was hyper-aware of your surroundings whenever he was near. You’d get chills when you feel his hot breath fanning against the skin of your nape when he’s behind you asking for some kind of permission. A jolt would run down your spine when he says your name like it’s the only name he’d known besides his. And the way an innocent stare from him would ignite a flame in your core, burning like coal inside a furnace during those cold winter nights. You know of his presence; you know how he makes you feel even when you don’t want it and that scares you.

And now you’re here with your overly eager friend who's  ready to lay down all her life savings and then some, just to see you finally get laid after that hideous tragedy.

“Gosh, what do I do?” You groaned, massaging your temples. The headache that you experienced the first time you encountered the boy only tripled in magnitude. It was like the soft tissues of your brain decided that it would be best to act like tectonic plates and tear each other apart. No matter how many pain killers you’ve ingested or how early you slept at night, it always comes back the next day, with a vengeance.

“Give in,” she shrugged, taking a sip from her warm cup of tea. “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

“The only thing I’m losing right now is my sanity.” You grovelled, wanting to pull out all of your hair from its follicles. “I–” You sighed, voice cracking and tear attempting to fall.“I honestly don’t know what to do.”

She offered you a sympathetic look, consoling you with a hand gently stroking your back. “I know, hun. Wonwoo was a douche bag and your divorce was the absolute worst. But… Look at the bright side,” She nudged you on the shoulder and points a finger westward.

“Now that he’s out of the picture, you’re a free woman now, y/n.” Your friend stated as-a-matter-of-fact, wriggling her perfectly done brows at you. She was right, though. There was nothing holding you back except yourself. The two of you looked beyond the glass sliding doors of your patio and watched the group of young men pull every bone and flex every inch of muscles in their bodies trying to make your backyard look like the way it was before.

“I don’t see anything wrong with flirting with your pool boy now that the ring on you finger is gone,” a small tug of her lips went unseen by you as your gaze was still attached to the blond haired boy whose dusting of sweat seemed to reflect and shimmer under the blazing sunlight like those vampire characters from that teen movie. God, how can someone look that ethereal while raking up the pile leaves in your backyard?

“While you’re at it, seeing that you’re too invested in watching him, play with piles of dead leaves,” your head snapped toward her direction as your cheeks turned pink from embarrassment, “might as well fuck him too.” she grins from ear to ear. 

++

Day eight came faster than you had imagined. The boiling of your insides has simmered down immensely since you've accepted all your feelings like the grown adult that you are. You didn't confess, though, there will be a time for that. Also, you can say you've gotten used to Jimin's presence in the short time you've spent with him. He was kind, sweet, caring and considerate to you 24/7 and you've considered every bit of it endearing. You friend was right. "Give in," she says, so you did and you hope everything will eventually fall into place at the right time. Like usual, jimin and his bunch were outside. They were eighty percent done with the pool and all that's left was the landscaping. One by one, bags of dirt, rocks, sand and all the likes were carried by unfamiliar faces to the back yard through your house. Trails of sand were left on the floor akin to a snail's. "We're really sorry for the mess, miss y/n. Don't worry, we'll clean it up." A new face stood beside Jimin. This one looked more mature than the three boys you're already acquainted with. This was your first time seeing him. Raven hair, brown eyes, a attractive face and shoulders broader than the horizon. Wow. Mr. Park's boys just keep getting hotter and hotter. But there's something oddly familiar about him. Maybe you've met him before? Casually crossed paths as strangers? You can't quite wrap a finger around it. "Y/n, this is Jin-hyung." The fair-haired boy stated. "He's Jungkook's older brother." You gasp, finally it connects "R-really?! No wonder you looked familiar!" You heard the boisterous laugh of the younger brother draw closer and then draped an arm around his brother's shoulder. You habitually thought Jungkook was the tallest in the bunch but now that you've seen his older brother and the way he stands a good two or three inches taller says otherwise. "Sooo, who's more good looking, Noona?" Jungkook asked cheerfully, arching his brows as if coaxing you to choose him. "Hmmm..." You hummed dramatically, crossing your arms with one hand cupping your chin. "I really can't say, Jungkook. Your hyung's pretty handsome." You teased. "Nooooona~!" The youngest whined, flailing his arms around like a child. If you hadn't known their ages, you'd assume that Jungkook's an eighteen year old boy with a baby's face attached to an adult man's body. +Flashback+ You learned that over the course of yesterday's dinner. That day marked the seventh day since the boys worked on you backyard. You decided to treat them to a special samgyupsal dinner since they had been working so hard all day and all afternoon. It was a quarter to five, and the boys were about to call it a day when you call them over enthusiastically. Gesturing them to come inside "Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook!" Their mouths hung wide open when their eyes met with the dining table. A dazzling array of meats, soups, vegetables and side dishes were gloriously scattered on the surface. "Wow, Ms. Y/n!" Taehyung beamed, his boxy smile seemed like it was engraved on his face. "What's the occasion?” "Well, since you boys have been working so hard I decided to arrange a little party for you guys. It's the least I can do." You smile. Taehyung and Jungkook looked like they were about to combust. The fragrance of the food delighted their every senses. You hear a faint growl in the background. "Sorry. That was me." Jungkook confessed, his stomach was now hungrier than before. You all laugh. "What are you waiting for? Dig in!" It was like a gun was shot and the race to eat the most food began. You watched them eat heartily, wishing that you had done this sooner to express your gratitude for all the effort the exert. "Aren't you gonna eat, y/n?" You were startled by Jimin voice. You turn to him and receive the look of concern on his face. "I've had my fair share while cooking, if I eat more I feel like I'll throw up." You softly giggled, a shade of pink dusting your cheeks. "And this is all for you." For every little thing he does whether it was deliberately or not, Jimin feels like he's simply digging his own grave. The sound of metal rutting against soil, just a few more digs and he's sure he'll be six feet under. "Ms. Y/n, Ms. Y/n!" Jungkook called, outstretching his hand like a student asking for his teacher's attention. "Yes, Jungkook? Oh, and you can call me y/n, by the way. No need for 'miss'." Jungkook scratched the back of his neck before answering, "Uhm, I dont think I'm in the position to call you that, ms. Y/n " "What about noona?" Taehyung who sits across Jungkook suggested. "Ms. Y/n really been nice to us, like a big sister. Always making sure we're okay." Sister. You practically forgot about your age gap with these kids. With the five-year difference for Jimin and Taehyung, seven for Jungkook, you really felt like an older sister. It wasn't bad, it was lovely actually. Knowing they see you more than just an ordinary client pinched at your heart. And you perceive them as little brother's you never had. One of them, you wished went beyond that. "Yeah!" The black haired boy exclaimed,"Can we call you noona, ms. y/n???" Jungkook looked like a dog, with his eyes all round and tail raised and wagging about. It must feel so great to be young. "Of-- Of course! You can call me noona!" The two boys cheered in unison. The only one quiet was jimin who sat parallel to you. 

"Are you okay jimin?" You asked meekly. "I'm fine." He didn't sound like he was fine. "Is there something wrong?" "Ahh, I--" he was stuttering, "Is it okay if I call you y/n instead?" Your eyes widened, you haven't even drank anything alcohol but your face already feels hotter. "S-sure, Jimin." You tried to change the topic by standing up walking over to the refrigerator. "Since all of you are of legal age." You gradually push open metal door and pull out bottles of soju. "You're the best, noona!" The youngest howled, eager to get his hands on the alcoholic drink. "Just promise me you guys won't drink too much. You still have work tomorrow" Like twins, Jungkook and Taehyung held their hands over their heart and recited, "We promise, noona!" With the magic liquid, conversation started flowing more naturally. You promised not to drink but they insisted, nothing worse than your friends peer-pressuring you. "So, noona, where do you work?" Taehyung questioned. He probably noticed you were always at home. "I'm a writer for Seoul Life Magazine, but I do all my work here at home. I rarely have to go to the office." "Really???!!!" His eyes blew up, Taehyung told you he was a fashion design graduate. You expected this reaction from him so you felt pride in telling him where you work. "Wow, noona!" Jungkook said, "My dad said only those who were absolutely good got to work there." "Stop flattering me," You shyly dismiss his praise. "I was an intern there during my concluding year of college. I worked for about three or four years before I got married." Taehyung did a spit take, spraying water all over poor Jungkook who almost choked on a lettuce leaf. Jimin just sat there, watching you laugh at the two comical boys. He didn't know how to react, his hands suddenly went clammy and he couldn't stop shaking his leg under the table. "M-married?" Jungkook said, still not believing what he's hearing "w-where the h-husband?" He felt out of breath due to that damn piece of leaf. "Are you really married, noona?" Taehyung poked, looking at your ringless finger. "I was," Your smile grew weaker, talking about something it always felt weighty. But they deserved to know, they're helping you heal by dealing with something you'd rather not face. "We got divorced." The room went silent. The sound of the crickets outside and leaves swaying with the wind that were previous white noise behind your chattering and laughter seemed like the were obscenely amplified by huge bass speakers. "Can I ask why, noo--" "Jungkook!" Jimin scolded his junior, and this was the first time you've heard/seen him raise his voice to anyone. "Apologize." He stated sternly, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook. "I'm sorry, noona." His head hung low, hair covering his eyes. "J-jimin, I'm sure Jungkook didn't meant to." You reached out to to hold his hand that was resting on the table. "I'm not mad or upset." You looked over Jungkook's direction and continued, "It's okay, I promise." Jimin squeezed your hand tighter, comforting you. "You don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable, y/n." "Y-yeah, noona." Taehyung added, "You don't have to. It's none of our business." Jungkook sat still, eyes glassy and mouth pouty. He absolutely looked like a puppy that had been punished for chewing up its human's shoe. "It's alright," You giggle, extremely touched. "It's been months, I can talk about it." "We met during sophomore year. I was a journalist for the university paper and he was on the swim team." The three boys listened intently, like toddlers during story time. "After five years of dating, he proposed. We got married a year later and moved in here. That," you pointed to the pool outside "belongs to him." "It was his idea to get a house with one, I agreed of course. Only two years after getting married, I found out he was cheating on me." Jimin's features softened at your words. He knows it wasn't easy for anyone to talk about their past heartbreak and traumas. He made sure you weren't alone, he took his free hand and placed it over your hand that he was already holding with the other. He held it tight. "It broke my heart, I really thought he was the one, you know? Almost eight years together thrown in the garbage disposal and shredded to pieces." "He doesn't deserve you, noona." Jungkook finally spoke. "He was an asshole and he doesnt deserve you." "Yeah!" Taehyung agreed, "I kinda don't want to finish the work now." Out of nowhere, you burst out laughing. An invisible weight, sort of a thick blanket was lifted and the atmosphere brightened. "No, no, no!" You can't stop your laughter at this point, what Taehyung said tickled a funny bone. "I still plan on living here, Taehyung! Even if I dislike the pool, it's still part of this home. And the make over was sort of a therapy, you know. Out with the old, in with the new, right?" You ended it with a smile, lips curved beautifully. It was a smile Jimin has seen never seen before. It was light and airy, bright and transparent. There was no pain or distress, just carefreeness. He wished you would smile like this more often, and he also wished he'd someday be the reason for it.

++

"Just kidding, Jungkook! You're the most handsome." You assured the boy, patting his back. "Sorry, Jin. Your brother's grown on me." "Kook one, Jin zero." The youngest boast over to his brother. "Alright, alright!" Jin interrupted, "Unlike you, some of us need to work. How 'bout you and Taehyung get the transport van back to the office and let Jimin, Hoseok, Yugyeom and I get things done, yeah?" Jungkook clicked his tongue, "Whatever." Their sibling banter has got you missing your brother, mentally reminding yourself to call him later. "Hey, Yugs." You hear Jungkook faintly speak. Two more new faces stood beside Jin. "This is Hoseok and Yugyeom. We'll be responsible for landscaping." Another attractive guy with a million-dollar smile on his face and a tall man with the physique of a runway model. Curse, Mr. Park!! Where does he get all these boys?! "Thank you for having us!" The pair recited. "Oh, no! Thank you for helping out with the renovation." "Ms. Y/n, The boys and I will be outside. We'll be mapping out a plan for the design," Jin announced. "Oh, sure." You answer back, "Take all the time that you need." "Great! We'll report to you once we've finished the draft design. So you can the necessary make changes and adjustments." He beamed, walking towards the back yard. Jimin stood silently beside you, "You do landscaping?" You randomly asked, seeing that Jimin was the only one left from their bunch. Jungkook and Taehyung had long gone. "No," he chuckled, "I just need to watch over these guys. Make sure everything goes well." "That's nice, you're very involved with the work you do." His cheeks blossomed pink, he didn't expect a compliment since he was just doing his job. "I try." He shyly replied, bowing then heading for the glass door. "If you need me, I'll be outside." You waved him goodbye and went about your own business. There were still some articles in your workload that needed to be finished and those emails weren't gonna answer themselves. ++ By the time you were done, it was half past two in the afternoon. You noticed as the days progressed, so did the temperature. You check your phone, only to see that today is the hottest reading yet. Since everything has been taken care of, you decided to take a shower. Appreciating the cold refreshing water on you warm skin. After that, you put on your favorite robe and wrapped it around your damp body. As you were about to step out of the bathroom, you noticed Jimin leaning against one of the pillars of your patio, shirtless. Have your eyes been deceived? They say that seeing believes, but you didn't expect Jimin to be this fit. You offered yourself some slack, since the only part of Jimin body's you've oh so graciously seen are his muscular arms. It wasn't as big as those of a body builder, but the amount of muscle in them has already got you mouth watering. But being blessed with the site of his bare skin and taut abdominal muscles has got you feeling wetter than being in the shower. You couldn't keep your gaze off of him. It was an image that you want to engrave at the back of your head. Your eyes roamed his entire body. Face, neck, shoulders, chest and abs. You wanted to memorize every detail. Every mole, every freckle, every scar that adorned his ivory skin. Just as you were taking your time scanning his entire figure, you were startled when you saw him looking at you staring at him. Your heart began to race inside your chest and you almost forgot you were standing in the middle of your house with only a robe covering your very naked body. You scanned around the area of the yard and Jin and the others we're not in plain sight. You assumed they were working on the farthest side of the lot, where your small garden used to be before you abandoned it all together with the pool. You lock eyes with Jimin again, but this time there was something odd at the way he ogles at you. His gaze was lustful and burning with flames devouring your entirety. His were pupils blown out at the display of your skin. He looked pained, his teeth biting harshly at his bottom lip as if he wanted to draw blood. At that point it dawned on you. You know why he seemed so agitated, squirming in his seat. He wanted to see more, see more of you. A wave of unknown confidence washed over you. You didn't know where the hell it came from. Maybe it was from his deadly stare, maybe it was just you. Either way, you were so totally taking advantage of it. Without breaking eye contact, you found purchase at the same seat from which you watched the boys worked while having a chat with your friend. Sensually lifting the hem of your robe up your thighs and spreading your legs open for Jimin to see. "F-fuck," He groaned, hands balling into fists. He glimpsed over to the other men who were still occupied with what they were accomplishing. His attention was back on you, giving you a small nod. The fervor that coursed through your body was incomparable to anything you've experienced before. The Adrenaline was starting to kick in, and you felt hot-blooded. You temperature went up ten degrees higher and you felt delirious. You knew there was a possibility that you were gonna get caught, but screw it. You've never felt like this in your whole twenty-nine year of life. You're gonna enjoy it, basked in it. Jimin's eyes were plastered at your dripping core, lump in his throat and completely mesmerized at its beauty. Your juices sinfully coating you slit. He swore if there wasn't anybody else around, he would have ravished you pussy like an animal. Since you're out here giving him a show that he'll never forget, might as well savour it. He thought things couldn't get any better with you sex on display for him, you open up your legs even more in a whole new different angle. Putting all those gymnastics training to good use. He can virtually see your pink walls with the position your in. He couldn't stop imagining him burying his hard cock inside your tight cunt. Sucking him in when every thrust he made. You left hand slithered its way down to your soaked core, playfully stroking your folds. If Jimin was beside you, he could no doubt hear the way your cream coated skin squelched with every motion you made. Your idle hand managed to loosen the knot of your robe, allowing it fall from your shoulders exposing your round, supple breasts. Nipples instantly hardening at the sudden exposure to the air. Shit, he'd kill just to have his lips around those perky little nipples, sucking on then voraciously until you moan out his name. You could not take all this self-teasing anymore. Jimin's eyes gauges out of its socket as you dip a finger into your damp hole. Jimin thought the heat from the sun was bearable. He'd worked for long hours under it and never complain. But this, you fingering yourself with one hand while the other pulls and twists on your abused nipple was unbearable! The ache between his legs was excruciating he had to casually palm himself. Slightly shifting and bending this leg so that he wasn't noticeable. Another finger goes in, and he's cupping himself harder. He observed your face contort with pleasure at the way you're plunging and curling your two fingers inside of you. Your arousal spilling at the edge of you battered hole, streaming down and accumulating just above your puckered hole. That should be him, he mumbled to himself. Your slender fingers wouldn't be able to satisfy you, unlike his throbbing cock caged inside his boxers, wanting to be set free. Jimin's practically squeezing his dick at this point now, he just wants nothing but to release his ropes cum on you breast while you pleasure yourself. You felt your walls clench around your digits, signalling you that you were nearing climax. You gotta make this quick, Jin, Hoseok or Yugyeom can walk in on you anytime. Adding one last finger, hoping the stretch will help you jump over the edge, you pummeled your cunt with all the strength that you had left. A small moan left your lips and your release came squirting. Coating the marble floor beneath you. Jimim was just as wrecked as you were. His chest was heaving heavily up and down. The only difference was you reached climax, and he didn't, he couldn't. You were steadying you breathing just when you hear Jin yell, "Yo! Jimin! I need you to--" his voice was getting louder and closer. Wide-eyed, you look at Jimin. Mouthing him "Do something!" While you pull yourself together and grab a piece of tissue to wipe your juices off the floor. When you looked up, Jimim wasn't there anymore. He somehow managed to stop Jin from coming any closer to the house from how faintly you hear his voice outside. You sighed and went back to your room. “We’ve done everything we could do today, Ms. Y/n,” Jin happily announces, standing in front of you with his million dollar smile adorning his equally valued face. “We’ll continue everything tomorrow!” “G-great!’ You croaked, substantially tilting your head to see what’s going on behind the tall man’s back. Hoping to catch a glimpse of Jimin. “Ms. Y/n?” he waved his hand in your face, snapping you out of it. “Are you okay?” “Yeah.” You barely reply. Before he could turn his back on you, you managed to pull on his sleeve. “W-where’s Jimin by the way?” He looked surprised, pondering why you’re asking for the boy. “He went back first,” Jin witnessed your facial expression drop, “He said he wasn’t feeling too good.” “O-oh,” you frowned once more, your browns knitting together at the center of your forehead. “Please tell him to get well soon.” “Of course,” He bowed and bid farewell.

++

Tomorrow comes and Jimin was nowhere to be seen. Jin said Jimin was still feeling under the weather and took the whole day off from work. While that may seem plausible, it didn’t sit well in your gut. You felt like there was something off with Jimin. Never has he been absent since the first day he worked for you. What is that little stunt you pulled off yesterday, you thought to yourself. Were you really that repulsive to the point that it had gotten him sick? Did you ruin your chances of having something more than just a short time fling with the most charming boy you’ve ever met? What if he never wanted to see you anymore, what would you do then. Those kinds of thoughts were inevitable, of course. It was all you could think of the entire day. So that night, you decided to send him a text message, the first one too. From you: Hi Jimin. Jin told me that you fell ill. Try not to over work yourself next time. I hope you get well soon. -yn Jimin stared stupidly at the screen. Thinking of what to reply or if he should reply at all. Several words typed then deleted. He genuinely didn’t know what to say to you. He was ashamed of what he’s shown and with his lack of self-control. He felt appalled with himself.  How could he disrespect you like that? You were a client. A client and worker relationship weren’t prohibited, not at all. It was just his work ethics that wanted everything to be strictly professional, he knew how important your role is to their business. The last thing he wanted was to tarnish what his father built from the ground up with a scandal. So he decided to not let his personal life get involved with his work life. It just makes things complicated, like it is right now. The ‘can’t go to work, feeling sick’ wasn’t wholly a lie. The pain wasn’t physical, it was abstract. And no medicine can induce the pain go away, until he saw your following message. From you: Also, I wanted to talk to you about something. It doesn’t have to be right away, you should rest first and get your health back up. Just message me whenever. Goodnight, Jimin. 

There really was no way out, huh. The next day comes and still no Jimin. That was when you confirmed it. You’ve completely and utterly ruined everything. He did not reply to your messages and didn't even want to see your face. It felt like the ground underneath you cracked opened and devoured you whole. That was the very first time in your life that you’ve acted so venturesomely, look what is has cost you. You blame yourself because there was no one else you could point a finger at. Things wouldn't end up the way they are now if you just stayed in your fucking lane. All of this was your fault. You looked back at all the events that happened to you and realized, maybe it was inevitably your fault. Wonwoo wouldn’t have you left if he saw a reason not to. Jimin wouldn’t be ignoring you if he had a reason no to. The course of the entire day was spent with you cooped up inside your room, wallowing away in your own self-pity. You politely told Jin that you needed some time to be alone and he can decide whatever is best for the landscaping. It was around seven in the evening, Jin bid farewell and suggested that if you needed anything, you could call him up. That was extremely thoughtful of him, you think. Another hour passed and the doorbell rings. You weren't expecting anyone though, so you were quite puzzled as to who it might be. The front door open and you see Jimin. He was wearing a navy blue dress shirt that was folded up to his elbows, wow. Sleek black slacks for pants that cinched his slim waist and leather dress shoes to put everything together. What's the occasion, you thought. "Oh, Jimin" you hid the nervous of your voice by pulling him into a hug "I-its good to see you again, what brings you here? Are you feeling better?" "Ah, yes. I'm sorry for being absent these past few days." His head was hanging low and his eyes were looking elsewhere just to avoid yours. "I wanted to apologize." He finally looked at you with his brown orbs that were displaying sincerity. You ushered him to come inside and take a seat on your couch. "Apologize?" You asked, a little bit perplexed "For what exactly?" "For what I did," his voice grew feebler "I shouldn't have done what I did. I shouldn't have disrespected you like that. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you just because I felt the heat of that moment. I'm sorry, y/n. I swear I'm better than that." "Oh, Jimin." You smiled tenderly, cupping his plump cheeks with your hand. "I think it's the other way around. I should be the one apologizing. Back then, I couldn't control myself when I should have. After seeing you, all the emotions I've put aside unexpectedly erupted." With your unoccupied hand, you tightly held his. "The truth is, you really have grown on me in all the best way possible. Initially, I thought it was just the backlash of my divorce egging me. I thought maybe my mind was looking for a rebound to dull the ache. But..."  Your eyes started becoming glassy. You felt him clutch you hand tighten spurring you to continue "I think that's not it. I know it isn't. You've been nothing but a blessing to me, Jimin. An absolute angel. You're sweet, kind, caring, understanding, ugh--" You mocked frustratingly, letting out a small giggle. "You're perfect. I couldn't see anyone that wouldn't fall for you like I have." Jimin's face reflected what he felt at that moment, relief. This wasn't what he was expecting, hence why he averted the confrontation as best as he could. You were the one who was perfect and completely out of his league. You were a beautiful and capable independent woman that any man would kill for. Your ex-husband was beyond stupid to play with your feelings like he did, he knows. But if it wasn't for your ex's stupidity, he wouldn't be here facing the only woman he'd want to be with for the rest of his life. "I thought you wouldn't like me since I was older--." "Stop." He interrupted, stroking his fingers through your locks while gazing at your gorgeous features. The staring contest ended with the both of you smacking lips, eager to taste what has been endured for so long. Impatient longing was evident in every kiss, lick, bite and tug.  You kissed him so fervently that his back was digging against the backrest of the sofa. One of your legs seemed to have a mind of its own and positioned itself to straddle him. "Are you sure you want me?" You queried the boy beneath you, your tone much mischievous from before, it was like there was a flipped switch somewhere. The noticeable change in the atmosphere has got him simply nodding, excited to know there was this side of you that he has not witnessed before. He watched you as you steadily unravel your blouse's satin belt and started to gently caress his wrist. "Would you mind if I tie up these pretty hands of yours?" You hummed, pulling on his hand up to you face and sucking on his middle finger and ring finger. The sensation of your wet mouth around his digits caused his brain to send signals down there. He could already feel himself get rock hard inside his jeans, thinking about how tight your mouth would be if he shoved his dick down you throat. But he'll save that for another day because right now he just wants to let you do what you want to do with him. Right now, he is yours for the taking. You urged him to lean a little closer to you. His face now between the valley of your breast as you meticulously tie his hands behind his back. You pushed him back to his previous position and inquired, "Do you want me to cover your eyes as well?" He shook his head in protest and said, "N-no. I want to see you." There was a pause as he manages to catch his breath, "I-I wanna see you while you make me feel good." You nodded, brushing his hair out of his sweat slicked forehead. From his head, your hand slid lazily down to his neck, to his chest, to his stomach and finally to the growing bulge inside his pants. You palm him unhurriedly, taking your time. Tracing your fingertips over the curve of his caged penis. "Y-y/n.." Jimin griped, observing your hand press against his erection. Somehow enduring the excruciating pain, your teasing had sown. "Can I ask you one last favor?" You purred, peppering his neck with kisses and sucking purple bruises here and there. "W-what is it?" he managed to reply, reveling in the way your teeth nipped against his delicate skin. "Call me noona," Jimin was silent, somewhat waiting for an explanation. When you told him the first time, he met you that he can call you by your first made him feel special because only he could do that. The other workers call you 'Miss' and Jungkook and Taehyung declared you as 'our noona'. "N-noona-" Jimin whined, bucking his hips harder against you hand. He saw your pupils dilate as the word escaped your lips, inflaming something inside you. "Jimin," you growled, squeezing his around his girth ferociously. Buttons were unfastened one after the other, exposing his refined chest and taut muscles. Out of nowhere, you felt raunchy. The tips of your fingernail slowly dragged themselves across his torso, leaving streaks of red in its track. He flung his head back, enjoying the sting that danced on his skin. Jimin squirmed as he felt your weight suddenly leave his lap. His neck snapped back to your direction and damn, what a sight to see. You tucked between his legs and unzipping his pants exposing his angry red-tipped cock oozing out beads of pre-cum. He smirked as he saw you involuntary lick your lips. "You like what you see, noona?" "God, yes." You exhaled, wrapping both your hands around his shaft not because you wanted to, but because it was necessary. Your tiny, little hand could barely encompass his circumference. "Noona's gonna me you feel good, baby." You felt Jimin's dick twitch by the given pet name. "Noona," he groaned, thrusting his member in your grip just to feel any sort of friction. Sensually, you undid your bloused and hurled it somewhere on the floor followed by your bra, exposing your bare chest to the boy. Jimin jerked in his seat, wanting to grab and knead you breast with his own hands. It looked even better up close. The skin smooth and flawless, nipples pert and hard due to the frosty air. "Fuck" he hissed through his teeth, if he could get his mouth on those buds he'd suck them dry and pull it between his teeth making you cry out. "Behave." You scolded him, eyes staring daggers. He stayed in place once again, not wanting to vex you in any way. 

You ran the flat of you tongue on the underside of his length, feeling his skin pulse at contact. Salaciously making your way to its head, you began circling his narrow slit with the tip of your tongue. Feeble moans were the only things escaping his pretty mouth. You seized this moment to swallow him whole down to the hilt, fighting your gag reflex. Your mouth has never felt this stuffed as you moan in satisfaction. Jimin felt the vibration of your throat around his cock, tightening around it. You languidly started bobbing your head up and down, bottoming out with every stroke. With a lewd pop, you tried pulling your mouth off his cock. Strings of saliva dribbled from your lips connecting to his tip. You push yourself up slight and proceeded painting your nipples with the concoction of you saliva and his pre-cum that was coating the tip of his penis. "How does this feel?" You cooed, sandwiching his hard member between your two breasts, erotically pumping the tender flesh up and down his length. "So so gooood, noona" Jimin wheezed blissfully. The sensation of his cock wholly enveloped by your soft mounds is inclining him over the edge. "Noona," he wailed shutting his eyes, the urgency of wanting to release washing over him. By the look of things, you guess he's close. You quicken the pace, feeling the skin of you breast chafe due to friction but you don't care. You clamped your hand on your boobs harder to tighten its hold around his cock and pump faster and faster and faster until he's cumming on you tits. "Shit, noona," Jimin stressed, his breaths labored. You watched as his chest heaved up and down, supplying him with the oxygen he needs after such an intense climax. "Oh no. Look at the mess you made, Jimin." You shook your head, pointing to your breast painted with his milky liquid. "I don't like messes," You sing-song, pushing yourself back up to straddle him once more. You clasped your finger under his chin and commanded, "clean it." His heart stammered in his chest. This is it. This is what he desired. Your perky nipples snug between his lips while your back arches in euphoria. He aggressively lapped up his juices from the skin of your chest with his tongue, leaving no trace of the substance behind. Up and down, left and right, there was no area left untouched by his wet greedy muscles. If he could only see the contorted position he put himself in just to taste you. He doesn't give a shit anymore, he'll gladly eat his cum out of you asshole if you asked. He obscenely sucked you left nipple first, earning the tiniest moan from you. Alternating between light nips and starved slurps, abusing your bud. He then moves to your right nipple, the more sensitive one that has you immediately grinding your clothed core against his semi-hard on. "Let me make you feel good, noona." He desperately whined, concealing his face in the nook of your neck inhaling your fragrant scent. You quirked a brow and asked while weaving you digits through his sweat-damped hair. "What does my baby have in mind?" "Let me.." he croaked. "Louder. I can't hear you." "Let me eat you out, noona. Let me make you feel good." He begged with pleading eyes , fidgeting his hands that were behind his back, trying to untie the belt that was restraining him. "I can make you--" "If you take those off I am kicking you out." You threateningly glared at him, voice deadly like venom. Jimin was scared shitless. He could do nothing but sit silently and obey. "I-I'm sorry, noona. I didn't mean to make you mad." This boy. It may seem like you're the one in control but it is you who are actually wrapped around his little finger. Giving in to what he wants. "It's okay, baby." you massaged his tensed shoulders, soothing him down. "I'll still let you eat me out if you promise not to take off your restraint." You sounded so sweet, the exact opposite of what you were minutes ago. Not wanting to piss you off more, Jimin nodded. You helped him lay down the sofa, propping his head underneath a throw pillow. You stepped to the side and shimmied your pants off. His eyes trailed the article of clothing peeling off your body. When the pair of jeans were long gone, his gaze was attached to your still clothed core. A small wet patch sticking to your folds in the middle was visible. You prop a leg over him, climbing on top of his chest, finding purchase when his face is below your pussy. He could smell the scent of you arousal. Filling up his nostrils and intoxicating his entire nervous system like it's some kind of poison. This by far was the best angle he's seen you in. Seeing it up close, he wished he could at least touch you… You moved into a considerably better position, if you buck your hips the slightest bit, if will directly collide with his mouth. "This what you want baby boy?" You teased, lowering you center on the tip of his nose. Overpowering him even more. "Yes, yes, yes!" He cries out, "I want nothing but your pussy, noona!" You snickered at how desperate he has become, "Who knew you were such a little bitch, Jimin. Loving the way you hands are tied up and thirsting over my pussy." "Yes! I want to taste you, noona. I want to make you feel good until you're squirting all over my face like you did before on the floor. Then I'll eat you up so good, so clean." "Good boy." You thrummed, ultimately taking off your underwear. Letting him marvel at the sight of your woman hood. Clean Shaven, baby smooth, and tulip pink. Without warning, you hastily maneuver yourself, grinding your core against his face. "Put your filthy mouth to good use and make me cum." The sounds he was making were borderline pornographic as hell. His slurps and moans blessing your ears, making your insides rut. He'd occasionally prod his muscles inside your hole then flick on your clit relentlessly. The tensed coil finally snapped and you chase you high by grinding against his face. He's devouring you out like a man starved, sucking out and drinking all the juice your pussy was providing him. Wanting nothing but to be selfish, and have you for himself. He licked you clean, not wasting a single drop of your delicious cum. "I didn't know you were such a disgusting slut for pussy, Jimin." "I, I only want your pussy noona… no one else's." He confessed. "On your knees." You demand. "H-huh?" "I said on you knees. You slut." Jimin dropped down on the floor waiting for your next command like the slut he is. "Tell me how much you want to fuck me." "I-I.." He stuttered with his words, and it made you infuriated. "I said. Tell me how much you want to fuck this tight pussy of mine."  You bellowed, your words bouncing off the walls of your living you. "I want to fuck you so much, noona! I want to bury my cock so deep inside your pussy until I reach your cervix then I'll fuck you some more. I want nothing but to fill you up with my seed and put a baby in you, noona! I'll fuck you so good that you'll want to you pussy filled by me every day!" He cried, plunging his head on the floor in a begging for your life bow. "Please, please, please!" Jimin was hysterical at this point, screaming and begging you to let him fuck you. "Noona, please. I'll fuck you so good that you'll forget about all your problems." You shiver at his submission and once again, he's got you eating at the palm of his hands. You freed his wrist and he lunges at you, hustling you up against the wall. "Noona," he breathed in the smell of your shampoo, steadying his hands on your hips fingers digging into your skin. "You don't know how much I wanted to put my hands on you. I can't take it anymore, noona."  he pressed his erection against your slick folds "I need to be inside you." "Then show noona what that dirty cock can do." you smirked, challenging the boy. He gripped both of your thighs and carried you to the dinner table. Laying you down before spreading your legs open for him. He aligned his cock to your entrance, pushing gradually, inch by inch until he bottomed out. The stretch was incredible, you were already dripping wet but there was still the sting that lingered from his size. Your walls were trying resisting the force, convulsing around his length spontaneously. "You're tighter than I've imagined, noona." You did kegels around him, eliciting a sharp groan from the boy. "Fuck, Noona. You were made for my cock." You hummed in agreement, relishing the sensation of him pushing in and out of your tight hole. "Baby.." You moaned wantonly, elevating you butt so that he could have a better angle while penetrating you ruthlessly. "Your thick long cock is the best I've ever had. Better than my ex-husband's pathetic excuse for a dick." His ego doubled at your praise, pride blooming in his chest. "More, noona.. please tell me how great my cock is for you.." "Ahhh-- ahh. Jimin!" You bit your lip, clenching around him. "You're taking remarkably good care of noona. Fucking your noona so good. I love your cock so much. I want you to fill me up with you cum. Yeah? Hmmmm. Make your noona the happiest by cumming inside my pussy." There was the push he needed, he was plunging further into you. He felt the barrier of your cervix and broken through it before spilling all his seed into your womb. You quickly followed when you felt the warmth of his juices flowing into you. Your velvet walls convulsed around his cock, milking him for all his worth. Silence fell on the both of you, only the south of your panting and harsh breath resonated. You supported yourself up with you elbows as Jimin pull out his now flaccid penis. You felt the trickle of both of your releases slobber out of your sore hole. "Baby, do noona a favor and clean up the mess you've made with your mouth." Jimin without hesitation obeyed and dove right in. Making sure to get every last drop of yours and his cum with his tongue. He lifted his head, mouth glistening from your juices. You pulled him closer to pet his held. "You were such a good boy for noona. Bring me to bed." He obliged, carrying you bridal style to your room. His muscles rippling under your stripped body. "Noona?" He questioned while his face was still cuddling your tummy. "Hmm?" "Did I make you feel good?" You lifted up his face and said, "You made me feel so good, baby." You assured, loving the way his eyes turn into crescent moons endearing when he smiles. "Can we do that again? But this time I want the blindfolds." He flashed a cheeky grin. You smirked at his innocence, placing a kiss on his temple. "Of course, baby. We have all the time in the world." ++ The sound of knocking on your front door wakes you up, seems like this is will be a regular thing now. You managed to put on an oversized shirt and underwear on before heading to the source of the noise. You opened the doors at was bet by Jungkook and Taehyung. "Good morning, boys." You yawned, gesturing them to come in. "Uhm. Good morning, noona" Jungkook croaked, pushing his senior to speak on his behalf. "See, we haven't heard from Jimin since last night so uh-- it's just jungkook and I that'll be finishing up work today." Taehyung stated. "About that…." 

You heard the door of your room creak open and out comes Jimin with nothing but this boxers on and hickeys all over his neck and chest. The two boys looked at each other dumbfoundedly and once they've put two and two together, huge grins were plastered on their faces. End

tell me what u think pls 

[carlosexpeditions]

Reason To Take An Eco Tour

Combining ecology and tourism so that travelers can learn about the environment without harming the environment is the act of ecotourism.

By observing and experiencing nature, you can learn about its functions and mechanisms. Participating in activities to protect wildlife and the natural environment and protect archaeological sites and indigenous cultures Ecotours provides an opportunity to participate in conservation activities actively.

The concept of ecotourism for sustainable tourism has three main pillars:

·        Conservation of nature and culture

·        Return of economic benefits to the community

·        A learning experience for travelers

·        Ecotours are tours that turn these experiences into action.

Contribute to environmental protection through ecotours

The ecology tour itself includes activities to protect the environment (such as tree planting and path maintenance). Many tours focus all or part of the benefits of ecotourism on environmental security efforts. Secondary contributions to environmental security also exist in the form of admission to national parks and nature reserves used to maintain, protect, strengthen and protect the environment in protected areas.

Contribute to the protection of culture through ecology tours.

Visits to archaeological sites, admission to the Museum of Culture, and cultural tours all contribute to the preservation of culture. You can enjoy Eco jungle tours 2day/1 night package in affordable range.

Culture can be a daunting issue. Issues related to indigenous relationships, such as Aboriginal cases of tourists climbing Aboriginal sanctuary Ayers Rock and Scandinavian Sami culture related to tourism activities. This can sometimes be difficult, as some tour companies may be concerned about poor communication with traditional costumes, events, or indigenous peoples.

Knowing and practicing the principles of ecotourism will prevent further damage to the environment and culture.

Attention on the part of the traveler can help prevent both environmental and cultural damage. Examples of awareness include not throwing away trash, using sunscreen that is considered safe on coral reefs, staying away from or touching animals, not giving unfair goods to local children, booking direct flights, walking / Travel by bicycle, use local transportation, etc. Reduce emissions. There are many things you can control that can make a difference.

Contribute to the local community through ecology tours.

One thing travelers should be aware of is whether ecotours use the services of local businesses and accommodations. Sustainable ecotourism involves benefiting the community. When paying for a local tour guide/ranger or eco-lodge, it's about the income and employment of the locals.

Learn more about the locals through ecotours.

When you take an ecotour, you are more likely to visit a nature park or nature sanctuary with a local guide such as a ranger.  You can enjoy your eco tour with macaw clay lick 2days/1 night package.

These guards are experts in local culture and nature. They will surely tell you a lot about the locals, nature, flora, and fauna of the area. A few days of learning are far more valuable than hanging out, and these stories weren't told.

You can grow through the experience of ecotourism.

Participating in ecotours raises awareness of the environment. It will be a catalyst for thinking, and you can experience deep thinking on various topics such as environmental issues and local socio-economic and political issues. Through that awareness, you can look back on your growth.

Educate children through ecotours.

Families with children can benefit from ecotours. Ecotourism is a great source of information for children, as children tend to be more immersed in their environment and retain information than most adults. It is worth learning to interact with the environment from childhood. Take the time to discuss the implications and importance of environmental protection with your children and the actions they can take in their daily lives.

[gwens-fiction]

A Day at the Academy

Backstory scene for Vasco (and Estella) at the Academy for Hidden Earth. I’m uncertain if I’ll ever actually use this but it does tell more about Vendiae species.

-------------

"Tris, I just don't understand!" Pulsatilla groans, resting her head on the table. "He's doing fantastic in training! Top of the charts! But at any given time, he's somewhere by himself. I can't even tell he's trying to make connections and associations!"

"Have you considered maybe he just doesn't belong? He was a lower bred Vendia after all." Her red haired sister sips her tea with an amused glance.

"No, that's not it. He belongs. He's stronger than his peers on the spells despite looking like it just exhausts him. It's just..." She looks up. "Have you even seen him talk to anyone that didn't talk to him first?"

"Well, consider his background. Frigus is an arse to the bone. Probably drilled it into his head with a mallet."

Pulsatilla sighs and leans her head on her hand. "But how do you think we can fix that?"

"Put him on an assignment with Calandra." Trisopia then grins.

"Calandra? Why Calandra?" She looks at her. "What do you know that I don't?"

Trisopia takes a mirror from her pocket and waves her hand over it. The glass vaguely glimmers green before she hands it over. "Take a look at that. Tell me if you notice anything interesting."

Pulsatilla watches the mirror and sees Vasco sitting alone in a corner of the dining area with a small bowl of soup. There is a group of girls off to the side making their plates, Calandra is in the middle of the line. Suddenly, one of the girls in front of her slips and her bowl of soup is airborne above Calandra's head. Vasco stops mid bite. There is a quick glimmer of scarlet around Calandra. The bowl and the soup land around her and not a drop touches her. Vasco finishes his bite without another glance. Calandra and her friends laugh about how lucky she must be for the soup to have missed like that as they go to another table. Vasco smiles a little, his eyes briefly glimmer scarlet. A cookie floats from a platter some steps away and silently sits itself on Calandra's plate.

Pulsatilla blinks and hands the mirror back. "That happened last night?"

"Lunch today." Trisopia grins. "Bertramus apparently is just shy. His low confidence levels make him scared to approach her so he silently makes her life a little easier."

"And that must be why he's always so tired during his trainings." She sighs. "I'm so oblivious."

"You just didn't know what to look for. You're still pretty new at this yourself, Lia. A couple hundred years doesn't make you an expert."

"But what do you suggest I do about him?"

"Take him to the side, tell him women like confidence, and send him on his merry way. Then we sit back and watch if it makes any changes. If all else fails, you should pair them and send them on a research excursion."

Pulsatilla sighs and picks up her tea cup. "But maybe just telling him about the confidence will promote him to try talking to her at least. I doubt she even realizes he exists."

"Today is the big shift, right?"

"You mean the night they see what other form they naturally shift to? I had thought about it. Do you think they're ready?"

"I think in the case you need to send shy-boy and miss priss on an excursion they need to know their main shift to conserve energy." She quickly sips down the rest of her tea and gets up. "You want to ring the bell for training?"

"Of course I want to ring the bell, why would you even ask?"

Trisopia smiles to herself. "Because watching your excitement over something so simple never gets old."

————————

"Today we will discuss form shifting. Can anyone tell me the three types of shifting?" Trisopia looks at the younger wizards. "Calandra, if you please."

Calandra thinks for a moment. "Main, auxiliary, and emergency?"

"Well, close. The last is called mortem, but generally if you must perform a mortem shift you are probably in an emergency situation." She chuckles. "I know each of you has been trained on typical auxiliary shifting. It's time to discover what your main shift is. Can anyone remind the class what a main shift is? Bertramus?"

Bertramus looks over from where he had been watching Calandra. "Main shift is the least taxing form shift, usually as a means for faster transportation than just regularly walking. Usually this form is a sort of bird."

"Exactly." Trisopia sits down on a mat and motions for the students to do the same. "Now I want you to close your eyes and relax. Think of what qualities make you you. When you feel at peace I want you to start shifting, but keep your mind empty. Let your instincts take over the shift." She says before shifting herself into a quetzal bird and watches her students. "When you feel brave enough, open your eyes and look at the mirror Pulsatilla has set before you."

Bertramus opens his eyes and looks into the mirror and feels his heart fall into his stomach. The black feathers, sharp silver beak...a crow. An evil little crow. He wonders if a crow can cry as he feels the head rise in his face. He hears the murmurs of the other Vendiae around him.

"See! I told you! He's evil!"

He shuts his eyes and flies out of the room. The door shuts behind himself.

Pulsatilla gasps, but Trisopia only tilts her head. "I don't understand? What is so bad about ravens? It fits him." She murmurs and looks at her sister. "You handle them, I'll go talk with him." She then gently flaps from the room after him.

She finally finds him in his quarters, packing a bag. "Bertramus?"

Bertramus looks over at her. His eyes are red and watery. "I...I can't stay here, madam." He croaks. "It seems fate has its own plan for me...And if I'm going to turn out evil, I shouldn't learn how to control my magic so I'm not as dangerous."

"Bertramus, is this about your shift? Ravens are not evil creatures." She sits on the edge of his bed, watching him. "They're symbols of wisdom, and good luck in many cultures. Have you ever seen how masterful a raven can be if it has a goal in mind? Very resilient creatures."

"It's...It's not just that. Everyone knows."

"Everyone knows what?" She tilts her head.

"That I like Calandra. She doesn't know, but they're making her life harder because they know I'll go out of my way to intervene." His shoulders sag and he hangs his head. "I'm such an idiot."

"Bertramus..." She then sighs. "If you've made up your mind, I will not force you to stay here. But in the very least, you should tell her goodbye before you go. Better to have confronted one fear and flee the rest than to flee them all."

"I....I guess I can do that." He grimaces.

"Good." She pats his shoulder and gets up. "I'll go tell Pulsatilla. However, I'll give you twenty-four hours to fully decide, okay?"

Bertramus nods. "Thank you."

Trisopia nods and walks out, hiding a small smirk. "That boy isn't going anywhere." She mutters.

———————

Bertramus stops outside a corner room's door. He raises his fist to knock, but can't seem to force himself to follow through with the motion. He bites his bottom lip and instead drops his hand by his side and stoops down, sliding a note silently under her door. His eyes widen and he pales as the door opens and he finds himself staring at a pair of short black boots.

"Uh...hi?"

He slowly looks up and makes eye contact with the brow-raised boot owner. His cheeks start burning viciously. He opens his mouth to say something, but his tongue won't work, so he closes it again.

She reaches down and gets the note from his fingertips. "Were you sliding this to me?"

He nods, or he would nod if his head would cooperate. He can't stop staring at her which fuels his blush onward down his neck.

She then giggles, leaning against the door frame. "You can talk, right? You're in my classes...uhm...Berty? Bertramen?"

"B-Bertram-mus..." He finally stutters out.

"Oh right!" She nods and watches him. "So what's in the note?"

"Stuff..."

She raises a brow again. "Stuff, eh? My my my, how descriptive are we. Should I read it now?"

Bertramus manages to shake his head and looks away. "No...Not that it matters." He smiles a tiny bit and looks like he's preparing to flee. "Really, y-you can just throw it out."

"If it's trash, why don't you tell me the basics, then I'll decide if I think it's worth opening or not."

"It's stupid, spur of the moment, nonsense..." He slowly stands up.

"Is that so? Why would you be sending me nonsense?"

Bertramus starts taking a couple steps back. "Bye, Calandra..."

Calandra takes a step forward. "No, no, don't leave yet!" She grabs his arm and watches him turn from pink to red in the face. "Bertramus, what is it?"

"It's a goodbye." He then sighs. "I'm leaving tonight."

"Leaving? Where are you going?"

Bertramus shrugs and looks away. "I don't know...maybe if I plead enough my old boss will take me back...Or, or...maybe I can find some other out of the way jobs."

"But why?"

"Because apparently I'm just evil." He then spits out bitterly. "So why should a future villain stay here learning things he may use to hurt those he loves? No, it's better for everyone if I go."

"Do you really think you're evil?" She takes another step closer to him, but he avoids her eyes. "Because you don't look evil to me...I see a cute and caring misunderstood wizard."

Bertramus looks at her with widened eyes. "Huh?"

Calandra grins a little. "You seriously think I haven't noticed the little scarlet mist surrounding me all the time?" He starts to pull away as though ready to flee again, but she keeps a steady grip on his arm. "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to hurt you..." The words slip out before he recognizes he's said them aloud and he presses his lips tightly together.

Calandra looks at him and manages to make eye contact. "Then don't go. That'd hurt me more than any prank the imbeciles pull." Her eyes shortly glimmer a rich indigo.

Bertramus finds himself unable to look away from her eyes. He slowly feels less tense though a strange feeling flutters in his chest. He then blinks as Calandra kisses his cheek.

"Let's have breakfast together tomorrow." She then smiles at him. "Promise me you'll stay?"

He looks at her, flabbergasted, but manages a small nod.

Calandra releases his arm. "Oh, one last thing. What's your common name? Mine's Estella."

"Vasco." He smiles slowly.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow, Vasco, and I'll read this little treat tonight." She winks at him and shakes the letter before going back in her room.

Bertramus stands there for a moment before walking down the hall back to his own room. He furrows his brow as he tries to make sense of what just happened. He opens his door, shuts it, and slides down it to the floor.

"Holy feathers!"

[lucarioisinthevoid]

both puppets, Scraptrap, Scrap baby, music man, normal chica, mr. hippo, and finally nightmare fredbear. we need a good mix, you know?

(Thanks for the request, I will get jumpscared SO bad and I’m excited to find out by who. Edit: No longer excited, hated it, I needed to pay attention to the audio because of Chica and Marion, hope the chapter will be more fun for it. Full disclosure, in my first run I died ten seconds in due to Nightmarionne, so- I did a second one that escalated just as badly. I’m an idiot, RIP Henry. Warning for a tiny bit of torture at the end, not TOO prolonged, but it’s gonna be there!)

“Alright.” Henry sat there with Helpy in front of a giant spreadsheet, showing little portrays of all the animatronics. “Am I actually supposed to believe that Foxy can throw in all of his parts one by one? And then repair himself to attack me?” “Yep!” The little bear happily confirmed. “… I do not have a choice aside from accepting it, do I?” “Yep!” “And how do I tell that he is here?” “A little figure on your desk! If it’s Bonnie, Bonnie is out, if there is Foxy, Foxy is out!” “Why… is Bonnie in Foxy’s cove?” Helpy shrugged. “Funtime Foxy doesn’t share, so there’s only one cove.” MY GOD. THERE WAS ONLY ONE COVE- Irritated Henry frowned, but he chose to ignore it. “… is there a way for me to tell who is there in general? I feel like having to check every single place on the camera is somewhat difficult and rather unfair.” Before he could say anything, the sheet turned grey, only leaving a selected few of them bright and colorful. His eyes went from one portray of the Marionette to the other. “… why thank you.” Helpy looked at the selection, frowning a little. “Oh… that’s… that’s not good. Uhm, Mr. Miller?” The man had stood up by now, making his way towards the door. “… yes?” “… you should keep the global music box on for tonight. B-but not too loud!” “… thanks you for the advice.” With that he exited the room, the weirdly cold main area greeting him instead. Making his way right towards the office, his mind was buzzing with a few questions to himself. These questions were only amplified when he entered the now more normal seeming office, seeing a rather familiar face. “You.” “Me!” Cheerfully Scrap Baby responded. “Good to see you again, bitchass.” “Excuse me-“ “Apology accepted.” She put her skaters on the table, waiting for Henry to sit down on the other side- which he did, seeing as he hardly had another choice. “Look at you. MISERABLE. I love it!” “… and I enjoy seeing you all scrapped up, made out of trash and metal scraps. However, I have the satisfaction of knowing that you are in this condition because of me. You, however, do not.” Leaning over, the girl let her claw snap. “… you are a brave boy, Miller… let’s see how brave you’ll be when I test how easily I can behead you with my claw!” Henry’s hand was hovering over the button for the electronic shock and she noted, leaning back again. He had the shock, she had her claw… it was only a matter of time to see who could react quicker. A raspy, broken voice sounded from the back. “Wow… look at you two… getting along like a house on fire… I almost don’t want to interrupt… a l m o s t.” Instantly Henry looked down, flipping up the monitor to activate the global music box and reset the ventilation, as well as spotting the animatronic in the duct system and quickly placing a lure. The nightmarish animatronic chuckled. “Oh, Henry… don’t you want to look at me…?” “Seeing as it will take me life… no.” Despite his words, he sneaked a short glance at the creature- it was hard to ignore, so giant and unnatural, his curiosity was begging him to take a look. “… as much as I hate to be rude.” His head felt feverish, there was something wrong. Baby was from his old home. She referred to the things they had gone through together. Not that it was much, but it was there. And then there was the monstrous creature, one he knew could exist, but never came to fruition. This place of course wasn’t tied to time and space, but it seemed this place wasn’t even tied to a single-strained reality. It would also explain why everyone seemed to know him. That threw up a few more questions though, for example, if the souls roaming were actually- He could hear the global music box playing, as well as Chica’s rummaging in the back. When he lowered the camera again, he stared to the side, trying his hardest to not look at the creature, while keeping an eye on Baby and her position. “… you will look. Eventually. I know. You know. Why are you drawing out the inevitable, Henry? I thought you hated that.” “It is not inevitable.” Henry said, his voice full of confidence, but his eyes remained on the corner to the side. If he just kept the routine up, then- … dear god. The power was draining a little bit too quickly for his liking. Was the music box this much of a strain? It wasn’t too bad yet, if he kept things going it might would be tight, but not impossible- Out of nowhere an obnoxious voice sounded. "Uh-oh! How unfortunate! Uh-oh! How unfortunate! I know how much you like to fight, so I'll add a new problem to your night!" Snapping around, Henry spotted a girl- ANOTHER DAMN BALLOON CHILD- stand in a corner, snickering to herself, watching him with glee. “Wh-what!? Who are you?” But as he asked that, the entire screen started to rumble and quake, something was coming from the left, it was coming FAST, it must have been something INCREDIBLE RAGEFUL and in a blind panic he smashed all the doors to that side close. The lights flickered off for a second and the Balloon Girl disappeared- the creature however had been locked out. It felt like it was too close- his brain wasn’t supposed to react that panicked! Had that been Dave? Really? It sounded like- His mind was a mess. The Nightmarionette chuckled, now lounging at the right side of the office. For some reason Baby snickered too. “What is so funny?!” He hissed, quickly flipping through the cameras, checking the vents and airduct cameras, trying desperately to find who this creature had added- Then his eyes lowered down to the energy that was being wasted. Rapidly it decreased. No, no, the global music box couldn’t be draining THIS much power, right?! Was it even possible to keep the global music box playing all night? Twenty-four percent at two AM. No way he could do it. Frustrated he looked to the side, wondering who exactly would come for him once the lights were out. Would the puppet or Chica come into the office? Taking revenge for being deprived of their other form of entertainment? He hadn’t seen the Nightmare Fredbear for the entirety of the night, something that slightly disappointed him. The only nightmarish creature he was allowed to see was the one he wasn’t allowed to look at. Now it was actually inevitable to die- and the machines in front of him enjoyed it, obviously. The way they looked at each other made it clear they were deciding on who would get the honors. With a headache Henry glanced at his deactivated tablet. … if they were unlucky, then the newly arrived stranger would be the one getting to strike first. “Why are you so quiet, Henry? Bear got your tongue?” “… was there anything left to talk about?” Baby snickered. “Maybe you should cut that attitude. Or I’ll cut your tongue out… both would fix it!” “That is not a conversation worth having, at least in my eyes. I am open for a counterpoints, but us talking about it will not aid either of us. Correct?” Ten percent. It was still draining quickly, instantly down to double digits, and it just had turned to three AM. “Any last words?” Baby asked. Henry just tsked, closing all the doors and glancing at her. “Get it over already. Boasting is not a polite thing to do.” She clacked her claw. “You just want to get me shocked before going down.” “If that is what you think.” A few heartbeats now- Then the lights went down. … what a familiar noise indeed… Slowly it went darker and darker, the afterglow of the lamps fading fast. Henry breathed slowly, listening in, trying to guess who was approaching to kill him. From the side, the Nightmarionnette moved closer, putting a heavy claw on his shoulder, leaning down. Its bright white eyes and shining teeth were the only thing still seeing- aside from the stripes, vaguely. Henry stared inside them, without showing fear. “Henry…” “Yes, Charlie?” “… you left the right door locked up until now.” For a moment Henry was frozen, then he slapped his own face. “I am such an idiot.” “Now, now, do not damage the goods… that is my job!” Picking him up carefully, like a little doll, the Nightmarion let one of his claws move over Henry’s stomach- Henry just hanging in the grasp, stubbornly refusing to fight back. “… will I go to actual hell after this?” The machine laughed, it sounded a bit like a circular saw, a far distance away. “Henry! This IS your hell! And… the nightmare is just beginning.” With that he dug his claws inside of his body, right at the chest. It was a horrible crushing feeling, the pressure on his skin, of his lungs growing stronger and stronger until it broke open, blinding white pain, opening up- One claw peeled off the skin, the other aimed right for the heart, pulling it out until separating it with and abrupt RIP- … how was he still conscious, this was far too much pain, far too much damage, how was he- how was he still conscious... Fascinated the machine looked at the heart. “You have one! What a surprise. Now… to the real test.” It took it to his maw, shoving it against his teeth, opening it up, tearing it to pieces, as a long tongue slipped out, catching a few bloody drops, while another few dropped on the ground, joining the pool from where Henry was being held. “… I do like the taste…” With that it reached out again, reaching in- And that was thankfully the last thing he experienced before fading away. He woke back up on the couch, coughing abruptly, feeling close to dry heaving- Stumbling over, he got himself a glass of water. Then he sat down next to the sink, trying to breathe more regularly. … it would get better. He would get better.

[fortitudinem]

   LIVING CONDITIONS - BEFORE THE BARRIER DROPS 

The living conditions on the Isle are pretty awful (understatement). The cloud overhead is mostly made up of smog, created by the residents burning trash on open fires in an effort to stay warm, or for something to cook on and water vapour. The barrier means these things cannot escape. This gives the air a hazy quality to it. It smells like smoke and burning garbage, if near the water the smell of drying seaweed and rotting wood also accompanies this. The higher up you are, the worse the air quality, which is one of many reasons no-one really attempts to bypass the mountains in the south of the Isle, the other reason being that it's where the evil-but-sentient-animals are. The cloud cover means that on a dull day it's hard to tell exactly what time of day it is. Sunlight never makes it through the cloud.

The streets are brightly coloured. Any spare paint that is brought over from Auradon is quickly repurposed to colour the exteriors of buildings. However, there are piles of trash, twisted scrap metal, broken boxes and other 'unusable' trash that have been left in alleyways. The streets and pavements themselves are dirty. Litter and graffiti are everywhere. Any paint is peeling, windows are broken or non-existent, rooves are leaky, buildings are dangerous, bordering on condemned.

Housing comes in different styles. Those without homes will live communally, sleeping in any public building they can find, or outside if it's warm. Weaker residents live in shacks made from wood and corrugated metal. These are often single rooms for an entire family. Tougher residents, or those with methods of defence live in terraced housing or apartment blocks, where they have access to an entire home or apartment, but they are in charge of defending it themselves and/or stopping other people moving in or robbing them. Important villains and people who have made a name for themselves can have their own individual housing. Some of these are villain lairs that have been transported to the Isle to keep them from being an eyesore in Auradon (Hell Hall etc.) and some are self-made (Ursula's chip shop having been placed in a natural cave with some wooden walls etc.). A detached, well-furnished house or lair is a sign of power.

Furniture is upcycled at best and falling apart at worst. As far as furniture goes, functional items are hard to come by. Having a couch at all is considered amazing, no matter how broken or lumpy. Tables are often too short, having had their legs sawn down to size to fix a wobbly one, or because one has had to be replaced. Chairs are always mismatched. Plates and cups are often cracked or chipped. Beds are usually just a frame with mismatched wooden slats, or rope strung across it. mattresses are also difficult to come by- any mattress they receive has already been used to the point of falling apart, so often springs need to be removed, or stuffing needs to be put back in. They are always lumpy and sagging, or otherwise broken or uncomfortable. People also make their own, using offcuts from clothing, straw and anything else they can find to pad them out. Bed frames strung through with rope are the most common form of sleeping surface. Most household furniture has been created or fixed on the isle. Nothing comes to the Isle whole.

The includes food. Food, when it comes, is half-eaten, rotting, stale or is otherwise literal trash. It is barely edible. Food is cooked only in restaurants, or over open fires. Most of what gets eaten on the Isle has already been cooked once or can be eaten raw. Almost no-one has a stove in their house and the few that there are are electric or wood burning (though often garbage is used instead of wood) and are reserved solely for businesses whose purpose is to supply food to the masses.  

Basic necessities are lacking or non-existent. Lighting has to be cobbled together, the most common form of lighting on the Isle are string lights that used to operate off battery packs but have since been wired into the mains, or paper lanterns and bulbs of coloured glass. Mains electric on the Isle is generated almost exclusively by wind and steam power. Steam power is generated by heating water using burning garbage and produces a high volume of pollution, so it is not used very often, only if there is a severe shortage of alternatives. There is no connection to the Auradonian electrical grid. Most houses on the Isle aren't connected to the mains electricity and do not have electricity at all. Energy is reserved for lighting the Isle at night and funnelling into the businesses that require energy to function and provide a valuable service, such as restaurants. It is an important commodity. Affluent or powerful enough villains can insist on having their houses connected to the electrical grid and it's common for lower class villains to highjack the system and steal power anyway, but ultimately only around 1/3rd of homes on the Isle have access to power.

Even less have access to running water in their homes. There isn't much in the way of fresh, running water on the isle to begin with, what natural water there is is funnelled from the mountains/hills in the south of the isle and collected there. Wells have been dug all over the Isle but proximity to the sea means they must be manually refilled regularly with water from the hills, or rain butts. Often the water goes untreated and residents must boil any water they intend to use for culinary purposes or risk using contaminated water.

Living quarters can be found on almost every suitable surface, especially in the warmer seasons you will find people sleeping on roofs or out in the open and in the cold months, indoor spaces that are usually marketplaces suddenly become packed with beds. Communal living is common and it's not unreasonable in exceptionally cold circumstances to find multiple beds pushed together and lots of people squeezed into them in an effort to keep warm. Personal space is a complex entity on the Isle and having your own separate living space is something only the most affluent and powerful villains are capable of doing, only because they are the only ones capable of scaring other people out of their space, or preventing them from accessing it.

This communal living extends to every aspect of living. Clothes that are not being worn are often taken by someone else. To have multiple outfits is considered a sign of power. Power is also denoted by the materials used (to be expanded on in a future post). Bathrooms are difficult to come by. There are often public baths, which is to say, there are baths with curtains around them in the town square and you can use them if you're brave enough and have a way to get the water there yourself (and can risk being publicly exposed or losing your top layer of clothing). Toilets are often communal too, though without running water, most operate on a bucket flush system, aka you fill a bucket with water from the nearest well and tip it down the toilet to 'flush', and hand washing is difficult to say the least. 'Sinks' are usually simply washbasins, that you can fill yourself or that may already be pre-filled but has also been pre-used. Washing clothes usually takes place in large tubs, or personal ones, with washboards. There are no washing machines on the Isle. Clothes often come out dirtier than they went in. Washing is hung above street level and due to the lack of sun, it usually takes several days to dry completely.

The sewage system is not great, which is why the need for public toilets came about. baths are usually not plumbed into anything and simply empty into the street, but toilets are set up to be connected to a system of pipes that leads to the ocean. It's not the most sanitary of things, but it's all they've got. Everyone avoids the area where it dumps out into the sea. No-one wants to go fishing or swimming near there. No-one would be willing to risk their health like that.

There is a total lack of trained medical care on the Isle. Though there may be a few residents that are trained medical professionals, there are no facilities for them to run safely. Clinics, surgeries and hospitals are virtually non-existent. Some residents have set up make-shift clinics in their homes, but the facilities are poor, there is no safe medical equipment and medicines are difficult to come by. There are occasions where someone in Auradon will throw away out-of-date medication, or won't finish their course of antibiotics etc and these end up on the Isle, but they are usually snapped up quickly. Bandages may be found on the trash barges or cut from fabrics. They are washed more thoroughly than anything else on the Isle, but that doesn't mean much. Most people make their own.

In fact, most residents take care of their own health. An illness (a cold, the flu, food poisoning, anything else) is usually combatted by rest alone (plus water if you have someone to care for you and fetch it for you). A strain or sprain is treated similarly, should the person be able to do so. A bone break is harder to fix and a rudimentary splint can be created, but there are no plaster casts. Walking sticks and crutches can be cobbled together out of wood. Physical wounds are easily the most dangerous injury. They need to be cleaned with alcohol, or in extreme cases fire. Stitches are generally avoided if possible, as making items sterile is difficult. If necessary, stitches are done with thread or, in a worst case scenario, dental floss. If painkillers must be taken, they are most likely to be self-prescribed. Alcohol is the most common. Natural bark can be used, despite the lack of flowering plants on the Isle and there are some opiate-like painkillers that the Heart family have been able to produce, but these are expensive and saved for those able to afford it.

The Isle is an extremely dangerous place to get an injury. But they're also pretty common. Any injury that would require surgery to fix is pretty much beyond what the Isle can offer. Limbs can be removed if gangrenous or otherwise infected, but that is the surgical limit unless you know where to go and can afford to pay. There may be a black-market surgeon or two on the Isle. A first-aid class is taught in schools to all the VKs.

There is a lack of education on the Isle, many residents are incapable of reading or writing at an adult level and most are unable to perform basic mathematic functions. Books are rare and when they do show up they are usually waterlogged, wrecked or immediately taken to Dr Facilier's library. Having a collection of books and being able to read is a sign of importance. Math is considered less important than reading. The system on the Isle is lacking in almost every area.

Originally there was only one school, but as more children were born, more schools started to open. Dragon Hall first and then Serpent Prep and the Witch Academy. Classes are taught on how to be as villainous as possible, but there is an element of survival included too. Skills like thievery and dark magic (theoretical only) are more highly prized than basic knowledge of math/english/science etc. Some children don't go to school at all, some are home schooled and some attend actual school- but even these classes are lacking. It is expected for students to turn up late and not partake in lessons or do their homework. Even children enrolled at school sometimes don't show up for class either because they don't want to, or because they have duties elsewhere. Most children above a certain age are expected to be in some manner of employment by or for their families.

The age a child is expected to work varies between households, but it is usually under the age of ten and by the time they are teenagers they are being given more complex, demanding jobs and/or being made to do backbreaking physical labour that the older villains can't or don't want to do. (I'll do a post about common jobs on the Isle in the future).

Mental health on the Isle is awful, never seeing the sun combined with all the other factors has led to depression being very common amongst all Isle residents. Though the adults are more likely to succumb to it and retreat into themselves and into their homes and stop interacting with the world, or to get angry with their children and raise a hand against them. With the lack of books, however, knowledge on the subject is rudimentary and basic. There is no real treatment for it.

While many residents are proud to be Villains or Villain Kids, no-one is proud of the Isle itself. The conditions are too awful. No-one feels like they really own anything so there's nothing for them to be proud of. But for a lot of them, it's still the only home they've ever known, so they're not going to be willing to abandon it in a hurry.

[tigerkirby215]

5e Teemo, the Swift Scout build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Riot Games)

So funny story: Teemo was originally going to be a Death Cleric and I had this massive joke about how “Illaoi was a Cleric with no Cleric levels and Lux should’ve been a Cleric but wasn’t and then the Devil himself ends up being a Cleric” but midway through writing this build I realized that another class made a lot more sense and I had to scrap like half my work.

Even on Tumblr Teemo annoys me.

GOALS

Swiftly - Teemo is literally called “the Swift Scout.” You’ll never guess what subclass we’re going to pick.

That's gotta sting - We’re going to need to fight dirty with poisons and blinds to overpower our foes.

Got a little surprise for 'em - Your enemies should never feel safe walking into your territory, knowing that a trap could be there just waiting for them.

RACE

One may think that to be a small Swift Scout one would want to be a halfling, but there are plenty of small races in 5e to choose from. This may come as a surprise but I’m actually going to suggest playing a Deep Gnome. Your Intelligence increases by 2 and you have Gnome Cunning for advantage on Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws against magic.

As a Deep Gnome your Dexterity increases by 1. You have Superior Darkvision of 120 feet, and advantage on Stealth checks to hide in rocky terrain thanks to Stone Camouflage. I mean, it’s not a bush but you could probably stealth in the jungle.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - You don’t get the title of “The Swift Scout” by being slow on your feet. (Excluding the fact that you have 25 movement speed.)

14; INTELLIGENCE - Knowledge of guerilla warfare would be more intelligence-based.

13; WISDOM - Teemo is a survivalist, having to spend months in the jungle with nothing but mushrooms to keep him company.

12; CONSTITUTION - Even if Teemo is squishy in-game it’s still nice to have a bit of extra bulk.

10; STRENGTH - Teemo needs to be able to carry all his equipment, which is where Strength comes in.

8; CHARISMA - FUCKING TEEMOOOOOOOOOOOO. (Memes aside feel free to make your Strength lower I’m mostly just dumping Charisma for the meme.)

BACKGROUND

As a Survivalist the Outlander background is pretty good to take. You get proficiency in Athletics, but I’m actually going to suggest swapping your Survival proficiency with Medicine for reasons that are going to be clear later. Why Medicine? I think Teemo would remember to bring some health pots. Regardless you also get proficiency in a musical instrument of your choice (Spirit Blossom Teemo has a Flute so take that) and a language of your choice. (Which of course has to be Infernal kekw. But really pick whatever you think will be useful.)

As an Outlander your Wanderer feature will help you remember the layout of the map you’ve been on for 10 years, and you can find food and water for yourself and 5 other people due to your adept survival skills. Captain Teemo on duty!

(Artwork by Riot Games)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Starting off as a Rogue for the extra proficiencies. Take Acrobatics to swiftly run away, Stealth to... well, stealth, Deception to trick foes into walking onto your mushrooms, and Perception to gain vision with your traps. You also get Expertise in two skills: Acrobatics and Stealth will make you the master of hit-and-run.

Speaking of hit-and-run Rogues get Sneak Attack, allowing them to do an extra d6 of damage if they attack with Advantage, or if an ally is within 5 feet of the target they’re attacking. The attack has to be with a ranged weapon which is a good segway to talk about Teemo’s weapon. Blowguns do exist in 5e but they’re trash, so unless your DM is willing to give you a seriously strong blowgun I’d personally suggest just using a Light Crossbow... for now.

But if you meet any other Bandle Scouts out in the wild you can communicate with them using Thieves’ Cant, a secret code only taught to scouts and other Rogues.

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

Hey it’s everyone’s favorite ability: Cunning Action! As a Bonus Action you can now Move Quick to Dash or Disengage, or use your passive to Hide. Of course Hiding with Expertise in Stealth and then popping out to shoot a poisoned “dart” (crossbow bolt) at an enemy is a good way to get a sneak attack off.

LEVEL 3 - ROGUE 3

Third level Rogues can choose their Roguish Archetype, and hey isn’t it funny that Rogues have a subclass called “Scout?” Scout Rogues are Skirmishers, allowing them to move up to half their movement speed away from an enemy if they end their turn within 5 feet of you as a reaction.

And remember how I told you to drop Survival proficiency? Scout Rogues gain free Expertise in both Survival and Nature thanks to the Survivalist skill! Now would be a good time to point out that D&D Beyond will let you change the proficiency in your background if you get it past level 1. Also your Sneak Attack increases to 2d6.

LEVEL 4 - ROGUE 4

4th level is our first Ability Score Improvement: for some Guerrilla Warfare take the Skulker feat to hide more easily in bushes, not reveal yourself when you attack, and see better while hiding in the brush.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 5 - WIZARD 1

Hey look everyone it’s my favorite class, because Teemo perpetually frustrates me! If you can’t tell this was going to be Cleric levels and I’m writing this immediately after scrapping like half my build so... a little annoyed. Yay.

Anyways Wizards at level one get Spellcasting: you get a Spellbook where you can write down 3 cantrips and four 1st level spells. Your cantrips are always ready but you can prepare a number of spells equal to your Wizard level plus your Intelligence modifier. Seeing as your INT mod is 3 that means you can prepare all the spells I list! (At least for level 1)

CANTRIPS

For a ranged source of poison damage take Infestation to both poison and confuse your foes to make it harder for them to approach you.

For a melee source of poison damage take Poison Spray for a lot of damage! What do you mean Poison damage is commonly resisted? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

To strategize with your team Message will let you keep quiet while preparing to ambush!

SPELLS

Snare is a trap spell that will let set up a trap. Not a mushroom trap, but a snare trap.

If you want to use your traps for information however Alarm will let you ward an area so you know if someone passes through it. Or you can make the alarm loud so everyone knows!

For some poisoned darts Ray of Sickness lets you do... exactly that. Shoot posioned darts to poison your foes.

Finally to Move Quick take Longstrider, which increases your movement speed by 10.

You also get access to Arcane Recovery, allowing you to recover Spell Slots on a Short Rest equal to half your Wizard level rounded up (with some finer details please read the description of the ability that I’m too lazy to describe.) Teemo has a lot of supplies to survive in the wilderness, so it’s not surprising he packed more darts.

LEVEL 6 - WIZARD 2

Second level Wizards can choose their Arcane Tradition and I’m actually going to suggest a bit of a wild card here: go for the Bladesinging subclass. Yes it’s meant for Elves only but I have never met a single DM who enforced that rule.

Regardless as a Bladesinger you have Training in War and Song for Performance proficiency, Light Armor proficiency (which you already have), and proficiency in one type of one-handed melee weapon. (Scimitars are the only Finesse weapon you don’t have proficiency in as a Rogue so that’s basically your only option.)

But the main feature of the Bladesinger is of course their Bladesong. You can activate your Bladesong as a bonus action for 1 minute. During Bladesong your AC increases equal to your Intelligence modifier, your walking speed increases by 10 feet, you have advantage on Acrobatics checks, and you get a bonus to Concentration checks equal to your Intelligence modifier.

“But Teemo doesn’t use a sword!” I hear you say. Well Bladesong ends if you use two hands to make an attack but you know what doesn’t take two hands to shoot? Well for one Blowguns, but since Blowguns in 5e suck: Hand crossbows! Get a Hand Crossbow to supplement a blowgun, and boom you’re still a ranged character! Yeah much to my surprise Bladesinger doesn’t have any restriction on using ranged weapons: you just can’t use two hands to make an attack. Regardless you have two uses of Bladesong per short or long rest.

You can also add two more first level spells to your spellbook like Detect Magic and Identify to help you know what you find in the wild.

LEVEL 7 - WIZARD 3

Third level Wizards can learn second level spells like Blindness / Deafness for a blinding dart, and Invisibility for more Guerrilla Warfare.

LEVEL 8 - WIZARD 4

4th level Wizards get another Ability Score Improvement but you know what we don’t have enough of? Feats! Take the Crossbow Expert feat to ignore the loading property on crossbows, ignore melee range disadvantage with crossbows, and attack with a hand crossbow with your bonus action after making the attack action. Stinger attack speed’s gotta sting!

Additionally you can learn another two spells at this level along with a new cantrip! For your leveled spells grab Misty Step for Flash and Enlarge / Reduce, because size doesn’t mean everything. For your cantrip Mending will help you keep your scout equipment in check.

LEVEL 9 - WIZARD 5

At level 5 you can learn 3rd level spells. You know what we haven’t gotten yet? Mushrooms. For a very expensive trap Glyph of Warding will let you put down a near-invisible glyph in an area for a mere 200 gold and 1 hour of set-up time. You decide what triggers the glyph, be it something complicated or something simple like an enemy walking near it.

When the spell activates you can choose one of two effects: the simple solution is just to make it explode for 5d8 acid, cold, fire, lightning, or thunder damage. Alternatively you could store a spell of third level or lower into it, and have it target whoever activates the glyph or the area around them. I’d highly suggest reading Glyph of Warding over in full before using the spell. It’s a powerful spell but it’s costly and requires a lot of set up time.

But you know what’s a simple spell? Fireball. Weaponize your shrooms for a big explosion of damage.

LEVEL 10 - WIZARD 6

6th level Bladesingers get an Extra Attack! Yup: that’s it! Because you’re a fake Fighter. But yeah this is primarily why we took Crossbow Expert, so you can still attack twice with a crossbow.

Well, you can also add another two spells to your spellbook. To move incredibly Swiftly take Haste. Other than that you can truly grab whatever spell you want as there isn’t much else that’s truly “in character” for such a simple character as Teemo. My out-of-character suggestion is to take Mirror Image from second level for a great boost to survivability. The only thing more annoying than one Teemo is three Teemos.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 11 - ROGUE 5

Back to our swift scouting ways 5th level Rogues get Uncanny Dodge, letting them use their reaction to reduce the damage of an attack by half. Your Sneak Attack damage also increases to 3d6.

LEVEL 12 - ROGUE 6

6th level Rogues get Expertise in two more skills: Perception will let you make good use of your wards, and Deception will let you make good use of your mushrooms.

LEVEL 13 - ROGUE 7

Isn’t Teemo really annoying and hard to kill? Well with Evasion he’ll be even harder to kill since he’ll take no damage on a successful Dexterity saving throw and only half damage if he fails. And your Sneak Attack increases to 4d6 too?!

LEVEL 14 - ROGUE 8

8th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement and you know: I don’t think we have enough Feats. Fade Away is a Gnome-specific feat that will let you get use out of your passive by turning invisible when you get hit as a reaction. You remain invisible until the end of your next turn or until you attack, deal damage, or force someone to make a saving throw. You can use this reaction once per short or long rest and it uses the same reaction as Uncanny Dodge, so use it wisely!

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 15 - ROGUE 9

At 9th level your Scout training gives you Superior Mobility for 10 extra feet of movement speed. "Hut, two, three, four!" Your Sneak Attack damage also increases to 5d6.

LEVEL 16 - ROGUE 10

10th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement to help compensate for all the feats. Increase your Dexterity and Wisdom by 1 for even Ability Scores.

LEVEL 17 - ROGUE 11

11th level Rogues get Reliable Talent so any roll with a skill you’re proficient in can’t be below a 10. If you roll a 9 or lower it counts as a 10. Whenever I get this ability I like to do a tally of all the skills you have and what the lowest potential roll is, so...

26 in Acrobatics (with Advantage if in Bladesong)

26 in Stealth (with Advantage to hide in rocky areas)

25 in Nature

24 in Perception or Survival

22 in Deception

18 in Medicine

16 in Athletics

15 in Performance

And to top it off your Sneak Attack damage increases to 6d6.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 18 - ROGUE 12

12th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement and as much as I want to take more Feats (believe me I do) let’s finally cap off that Dexterity score for the deadliest darts.

If you aren’t playing with Standard Array and want some more Feats here’s a few I could suggest:

Poisoner (Yeah duh)

Svirfneblin Magic (More blinds, among other things)

Alert (To always be ready for a fight)

Observant (A half feat to spot any incoming danger)

Tough (Just because you aren’t a tank doesn’t mean that Grasp of the Undying is a bad rune)

LEVEL 19 - ROGUE 13

With 13 levels in Scout you are an Ambush Master. You have advantage on initiative checks, and in addition the first creature you hit during the first round of a combat becomes easier to hit. Attack rolls against that target have advantage until the start of your next turn, because it’s pretty hard to defend yourself when blinded. "Smell that? That's fear." Your Sneak Attack also increases to 7d6.

LEVEL 20 - ROGUE 14

Your final level is the 14th level of Rogue for a 10 foot Blindsense, allowing you to sense any hidden or invisible creature near you. Clearly they only have camouflage.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Turns out I got a proficiency in killing - Up to three attacks per turn with a +11 to hit means it’s more than likely you’ll hit your 7d6 Sneak Attack. Not to mention the strength of Wizard spells, notably Fireball.

Wars are won with men, not machines - Rogues are skill monkies and it turns out you’re quite the asset outside of combat. Expertise in 6 skills, notably the ones to keep alive in the wilderness. And of course the ability to cast Ritual spells like Detect Magic and Identitfy.

Never underestimate the power of the Scout's code - So Teemo’s pretty annoying right? Well I didn’t realize he’d be so damn elusive! +11 to Dexterity saves with Evasion, 35 feet of movement, Advantage on all mental saves, insanely good stealth skills, reactions to get away from danger... And this isn’t even mentioning the benefits from being a Wizard! Bladesong lets you increase your AC by 3 (up to 20 if you’re wearing Studded Leather!) and increase your movement speed to 45... Oh and you can just turn invisible! As well as blind the enemy and speed yourself up.

CONS

Size is a liability - A few feats too many means not enough ability scores, yet somehow we don’t have enough feats for things like Poisoner. Perhaps reserve this build for when you can use Point Buy. Or at least ditch Skulker because you really don’t need it when you can, ya know... turn invisible?

You'd be surprised how quick fur ignites - Of course the lack of Ability Scores means that your Wizard DC isn’t fantastic. Granted most of your spells are utility but a lot of them require saves, and a lot more of them are rather weak. Poison damage is one of the worst damage types in the game and both your cantrips are poison, not to mention Ray of Sickness. Feel free to grab other spells as you see fit.

Lots to do before I punch out - Teemo is squishy in League and Wizard levels don’t help in D&D. Even with the +1 to CON you’ll likely have a little over 100 health by level 20, which easily puts you in Power Word Kill range. You’re elusive yes but a bit of bad luck and you’ll be six feet under.

But you’re not meant to be the strongest: you’re meant to be annoying. Hit-and-run, hide in the shadows, and whittle the enemy down before you win the war of attrition. You’re in it for the long-con, and not just the end game. You’re engaging in psychological warfare: tearing at your opponent’s mental state until nothing remains. You are a master of anger and temptation. You are a demon; a devil... Or you might just be a hamster with a blow gun.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

[lemontwst]

Nessun Dorma | 01 - m!ver.

he says i am sorry i am not an easy person to want i look at him surprised who said i wanted easy i don’t crave easy i crave goddamn difficult

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: harem x m!reader. |  female version here.

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: cyoa + smut.

⟶ index  |  prologue.

__

You can’t say no to him.

You don't think you'd ever be able to deny Mira anything, really. Not when he looks at you like a kicked puppy… a tall, imposing kicked puppy with weird horns on his head who could probably cremate you alive without breaking a sweat.

"Of course I would stay with you! Do you even have to ask?" You reach out to touch his face. His skin always feels so cold under your fingers, but the fire in his eyes burns brighter than ever, as if the intensity of his flames depends solely on the intensity of your affection for him.

"I love you, Mira."

Your heart flutters at your own words and for a second you don't even know if you mean that as a friend or as a lover. But, well, you're only sixteen years old. You have a lifetime to figure it out.

You think Mira stops breathing, but it's hard to tell because the rise and fall of his chest is usually pretty much imperceptible anyway.

“I… I love you too.”

He sounds like he’s about to cry. One of his hands rests against your chest. It’s an innocent touch. He’s just feeling your heartbeat under his palm, tiny and steady like that of a little bird, “I will always, always love you. Even if one day you grow to hate me. Even if you forget about me. Even should you fall in love with somebody else…”

You suddenly feel very tired.

His gentle voice is like a lullaby in this field of roses. His words leave you dazed, like he’s casting a spell on you.

“I love you, (y/n).”

The last thing you hear is Mira wishing you a happy birthday before you fall into a warm, comfortable sleep without dreams.

___

A sharp pain in your chest jerks you awake.

It fucking hurts, like your heart is being pierced by a shard of glass. Like the fissures of your very existence are being pulled apart at the seams.

You clutch the spot above your heart, almost elbowing Epel in the face with all your trashing, trying to catch your breath.

"(y/n)! What the hell...?" Your friend rolls away from you, finally letting go of the octopus hold he had on you all night. He's all disheveled as he gives you a weak glare, falling back into the makeshift bed you two share with a groan.

It's not even a bed, really. Just a pile of cotton blankets messily thrown under the skylight of an unused barn. This is your little hiding place, and despite you two having perfectly comfortable beds in the main house with Grandma and Grandpa, you prefer to spend your summer nights sleeping in this very loft, where it's cool and open and comfortable. 

"Sorry! I… had a nightmare… I think.” 

Your friend is used to it by now, “Do you remember what it was about?”

"No… not really."

"Nothing at all?

"No, just…"

"Green eyes." Epel finishes the sentence for you. You've been having the same nightmare for a while, and your friend knows all about it, considering he sleeps right next to you most of the time.

Green eyes. Burning emerald. It's all you remember, alongside a gut wrenching, heart shattering feeling of longing that stays with you long after you've woken up.

"... Hey, you okay?" You must have looked as miserable as you feel, because Epel leans closer to you, peering into your face with worry in his eyes.

"Yeah… it's just a stupid dream." You shrug, leaning your head against his shoulder, "But you know what would make me feel better?" 

Epel shrugs, but the way his brow crinkles tells you he's already prepared himself for whatever dumb thing you're about to say.

He knows you too well.

"I'd feel sooo much better if I had an additional piece of toast for breakfast today…" you sigh dreamily and Epel sighs.

"Fine." He shrugs you off and stands up. When he stretches, a peek of white skin flashes under his light blue shirt.

"What, really?" Your eyebrows shoot up. It's not usually this easy to get him to hand over his morning toast.

"Yeah," Epel walks the length of the loft and starts going down the ladder to the ground level of the barn. Before his head completely disappears under the edge of the loft, he throws you an arrogant smirk, "I wouldn't want the deafenin' roars of your stomach wakin’ up every wolf 'n boar in the area."

You're rushing after him immediately.

He can’t claim the bread if he’s dead.

___

You live a simple, happy life here in the Village of Harvest.

Your journey might not have had the best start—your parents left you on a doorstep in a basket when you were a small baby, but Epel's grandparents took you in and cared for you like you were theirs, and you grew up surrounded by love in a small farming community.

Sure, your days might not be terribly exciting. You don't have things like a mall, or a cinema or… anything invented after the seventeenth century, really, but you have Epel and your grandparents and that's enough.

Oh, and you have Beau.

The little lamb trots towards you as soon as you're out of the house, your belly full with toast and Grandma's delicious apple jam, and starts nibbling at your socks immediately. 

Beau is minuscule. The tiniest lamb you've ever seen, always struggling to follow behind you on unsteady legs like you're his mother. Epel says it's because he feels a kinship with a fellow pipsqueak. You're always quick to point out that Epel is not that much taller than you anyway.

"Good morning, sweetie." You pick up Beau in a swift movement and hold him to your chest with one arm, carrying a wicker basket in the other, "Ready to pick some apples?"

Beau starts nibbling on your hair in response. This little guy… he's always munching.

"Just make sure he doesn't actually eat the apples." Epel starts walking in front of you, throwing Beau an unimpressed look.

You can't be sure but you feel like Beau is glaring back at him.

Sigh. Children.

___

You're always dead tired when you finally reach your bed. Farm life is fun and rewarding, but it’s also incredibly exhausting. That coupled with the fact that you haven’t been getting much sleep lately means that you’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow, barely having the strength to say goodnight to Epel before you’re spiraling into a deep sleep.

…

…

You know you should be surprised to see him, but you never are. You can always feel him creeping around the outer edges of your dreamscape, but it doesn’t bother you. You invite him in every time, even if you forget all about it when you wake up, almost like you know instinctively that he won’t hurt you. Almost like you know him.

The man in your dreams is gorgeous, the kind of beauty that makes you want to learn sculpting so you can attempt to immortalize it. His skin is paler than marble, free of scars or blemishes. His ebony hair looks silky, a stream of ink that frames his handsome face and falls past his shoulders. He is tall, the tallest person you’ve ever seen, and the evil-looking horns on his head make him look ever more imposing. 

But what you find most striking about him are his eyes. Emerald gems with flames inside them. It’s the only detail of his that you remember when you wake up, the rest of him a cloud of black smoke when you attempt to picture him outside of your dreams. 

“Good evening, Deerlet.” His voice has the texture of silk and when he speaks, it feels like the ground shakes beneath your feet. “Did you miss me as much as I missed you, I wonder?” He closes in on you with slow, purposeful steps, elegant as a cat even as he leans forward slightly, like he wants to keep you in place by towering over you. His expression is curious and serene. You have a feeling he always looks at you like this.

“Why are you here?” You take a few steps back, not because you’re scared of him, but because you're scared of how badly you suddenly want to reach out and touch him. Your bare feet step on something soft, like flowers, and suddenly the dull landscape around you shifts into a view that feels strangely familiar to you. An open meadow and a purple sky above you. An endless sea of black roses around you.

“Your eighteenth birthday is tomorrow.” He closes the distance again, as attracted to you as you are to him. You’re like two ends of a magnet, when one pulls back the other follows. “I really felt quite distressed at not receiving an invitation.” The small, arrogant smile on his face sends a flurry of tingles down your spine.

“In any case, I won’t be able to celebrate with you tomorrow.” 

You feel like you already know where this is going.

“So I’ve brought you your gift today,” He reaches out to touch your elbows, languidly pulling you closer to him in a half-embrace that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s too much empty space between the two of you. His fingers linger over your skin, barely touching you. 

“Do you want to know what it is?” He whispers against your ear. One of his hands gently cradles your face. His lips brush against your temple and you shiver, completely paralyzed on the spot, “It’s my love, of course.”

Not granting you the chance to run away, the man picks you up like you weigh nothing and gently lowers you over the roses.

"I don't… I don't even know you." You meekly push at his chest, turning your head away. It's like trying to move a mountain, and the hardness under your hands makes you blush something fierce.

He chuckles above you, but he's not amused. It's a pained, bitter sound, like you just reached inside his ribcage and crushed his heart in your hand. His ebony hair tickles your skin when he leans down to press kisses against your jaw, "Oh, you do know me, beloved. You are the other end of my soul, as I am yours."

His adoring voice, barely a whisper against your skin, leaves you dazed and gasping for air. Your legs open almost instinctively for him, your dick wet with excitement. A clawed hand makes his way from your shoulder to your side, slowing down when it passes over your chest breast as if he's indulging in the forbidden fruit. His fingers glide inside your shorts and he runs a slow circle against the humid head of your member, eager to soak in your juices. 

You watch with half-lidded eyes as he brings his hand to his mouth. A forked tongue peaks between his lips, slowly running over one of his lucid fingers. It brings back a memory of that time you dropped jam on your forearm, and that same forked tongue cheekily swept it away. The vision is so clear it leaves the hint of a name in your dry mouth.

"Mi… ra?" 

His eyes dart to yours and you think they're actually burning. Emerald flickers to life. His snake pupils shrink. He makes a show of slowly running his thumb down his tongue, leaving a trail of precum behind. Your stomach clenches with need, your entire body lighting up like he just poured gasoline on you and burned it with a match.

"Is… is that your name?" You manage to gasp the words out, suppressing a shiver when he hums low in his throat. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you to just give in already. To stop asking questions and wrap your arms around him instead, letting him use your body until he's satisfied. The urge to make him happy is almost primal in you, cauterizing your synapses. The need for him almost tears you apart.

"It's what you call me." It's a habit of his to sound both sad and adoring, you realize. You open your mouth to scold him for being so cryptic, but snap it shut when his hands rest on your chest. He palms the taut flesh gently, a small smirk on his arrogant face, "My precious Deerlet. Always so insatiably curious."

His thumbs slowly circle your hard nipples. Little jolts of electricity run down your spine, your chest growing sensitive under his ministrations. It's agonizingly slow. The sweet way he rubs you through the fabric of your shirt makes you quiver with need, your voice coming out in short little gasps that make his eyes darken to a dangerous jade.

You lay your hand on top of his. You can feel his hard veins move under your palm as he gropes you, and the sensation sends another wave of arousal down your crotch. Shaking like a frightened animal, you slowly move his hand to the side and slide it under your tank top. A gasp leaves you when his fingers touch your bare skin. Mira exhales a long, pained sigh through his nose, then allows his digits to explore the expanse of your flesh. His fingertips tingle and his muscles tighten almost violently as the impulse to fuck you threatens to overtake him.

"Patience, daelin." He teases you, his deep voice a heated, playful murmur. Your dick throbs in response. A small, frustrated whine leaves your lips.

"I'm going to savor every moment of this." He takes his hand away and your heart almost breaks, but the pain is soon replaced by scalding embarrassment when he rips the front of your shirt apart, easily, like it's tissue paper.

Nothing could have prepared you for the thunder that rattles the landscape of your psyche when his forked tongue makes contact with your perky nipple. Your hands find his broad shoulders and you hang on for dear life as he licks, nibbles and sucks like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. His mouth is devastatingly gentle and you weakly beg for more. Mira smirks and ignores you, dragging out his tender torture for as long as he can, even as you desperately grind your stiff erection against him.

"Mira!" You're sobbing at this point. Your body is on fire and your dick hurts from the lack of attention, "Please—" He moves to your other nipple and you arch for him, making a pretty line with your back. Mira takes this chance to slip a hand under you, keeping your chest raised to his mouth so that your head falls back, away from the dangerous tips of his horns. But he still doesn't touch you where you want him.

Suddenly, another memory comes to mind, as if summoned by your sexual frustration. You remember something that makes him shiver without fail, and suddenly you feel like you've regained some sort of power over this arrogant man. You bring a hand to his horn and tug and the loud, startled moan that leaves him is enough to satisfy the hunger in your stomach, precum leaking in your shorts like dew against the fabric. 

"... You little brat." Mira pulls away, struggling to catch his breath. His eyes are full of mischief as he looks down at you, the smirk ever present on his handsome face, "Is this how you treat your King?"

You try not to look too offended that he stopped touching you, giving him a defiant look that makes his smirk grow wider, "It is when the King is mean to his Queen."

His expression falls and he suddenly looks flustered. It seems like he enjoys hearing that you belong to him quite a bit. Mira quickly composes himself, the fire in his eyes now dim and subtle like a dangerous warning. 

You yelp when he grabs the back of your knees and pushes your legs against your body in a quick, rough movement, leaving you spread open and helpless under his watchful gaze.

"This is far from me being mean." He growls at you, allowing his instincts to take over for just a second, "So I advise you don't do that again." The stern look on his face makes his presence feel even more oppressing than usual.

It's like he's speaking the words directly into your ears. His voice bounces off the walls in your head, heated and demanding as a spark of his magic runs over your sensitive skin. It's a tingly feeling that makes your heart stutter, more intimate than anything you've ever felt. He shares just a fraction of his arousal with you through the link between your magic and his and suddenly you're crying and convulsing on top of the flowers, the heat between your legs akin to flowing magma.

The world around you loses focus. There's no more questions, no more doubts, you don't need to know anything about him, you just want him to touch you while you moan and gasp and whimper his name. It feels like you're on the verge of shattering and when Mira caresses you with his magic one more time, your stomach squeezes and releases, the dam in your abdomen breaks and blinding white flashes in front of your vision. You're left boneless and dazed and shivering, the shock from climaxing so hard and so abruptly leaving you speechless as you gasp and try to catch your breath.

...Holy shit. You catch his eyes and notice the subtle way he’s panting, sweat coating his forehead as he stares at every twitch of your body with intense rapture. Mira looks almost famished, desperation written all over his face. He looks like he’s in pain.

"I'm trying to be gentle, daelin." He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to keep the pieces of his disintegrating self-control together. Your scent is everywhere. The light spice in the air threatens to render Malleus insane and he has to momentarily block you out to keep himself from turning into his half-draconic form.

No no no, he can't do that to you. Not now. Not during your first time. He wants to cherish and protect you. He won't let his feral instincts get in the way of this precious moment…

"...I know."

Malleus opens his eyes. A small, tired smile greets him. Your face is sweaty and flushed, like that one time he took you deep into the woods.

"I trust you, Mira."

Love washes over him like high tide across a deserted shore, filling every crack on his eroded heart, replacing the pitch-black ink that constantly threatens to swallow him.

You trust him. Of course you do. You love him. You are his and he is yours. Forever, like you promised him.

"... I'll make you feel good." He sounds oddly resolute as he looks at you, his pupils large on a background of gentle flames. He kind of looks like a happy cat and you can't help but giggle. He's still as awkwardly sweet as the scrawny boy in your memories.

"You already did."

He snorts, "I'll make you feel better."

You let out a surprised gasp when he slips your shorts off of you and lowers his face right between your legs. You hear him take a deep breath and then he's exhaling right against your engorged dick. Your legs tremble in response and Mira chuckles. You don't need to look at him to know he's smiling that closed-eye smile you like so much.

Your excitement flares back to life as his tongue traces a slow line from the base to the head. The split in his tongue feels… weird, but it's also strangely erotic, and you can't help but moan shamelessly as he teases your urethra. Then he runs his tongue flat over your glans and suddenly you can't bear to look at him anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as little earthquakes shake you from head to toe, your hips going numb as he draws slow circles around the sensitive head.

"Which one feels better?" He has the nerve to ask you even as you convulse under him.

"The tip…" he greedily sucks on your glans and your head falls back, precum dripping out of you like a fucking river and coating his face in a lucid sheen of arousal, "Or the base?" He drags his tongue down the shaft and gently sucks on your ballsack and you nearly lose your mind, your hands tangling in his raven hair and gripping his horns for comfort. Mira gasps loudly against you, claws digging into your legs from the shock of the sudden stimulation, but you don't even notice it, lost as you are on the edge of your release. He brings a hand to your shaft and starts pumping, coating his fingers in precum and saliva as he continues to suck on your glans hungrily.

Your dick throbs desperately with the need to shoot your semen all over Mira's face. Everything feels wet and hot and stars, his tongue is lapping up everything you have to give him. It's like he's desperate not to let even a single drop go to waste…

"Mira!" You cry out in a broken voice, trying to grind your dick up into his eager mouth, "Mira—I'm going to—"

He suddenly lets go of one of your legs. The boneless limb falls over his shoulder, your soft thigh caressing the side of his soaked face. He doesn't grace you with a warning before one of his wet fingers plunges into your asshole, the tight passage clenching in shock at the sudden intrusion.

Your moans increase in volume. You trash under him as if you want to get away. This is almost too much. It's scary. He pumps his index finger in and out of you, smearing saliva all over your walls, then he presses that sensitive button inside you and suddenly the bliss is debilitating. He carefully stretches your cute little hole until he can push another finger in. Your back arches as another orgasm crashes over you, scalding hot and earth-shattering and too fucking vivid for this to be just a dream.

You completely miss the dazed expression on Mira's face when your cum fills his mouth, the dark jade of his eyes fading into a glassy mint. 

You're so out of it as you slump back against the roses that you almost don't hear him when he speaks again.

"This scent is—addicting—" his chest heaves and he looks almost intoxicated, "I feel like I'm getting drunk on you..." semen drips off his chin but he clearly doesn't mind. Not when he starts wiping the thick liquid off with a hand before bringing it to his mouth, swallowing as much of it as he can. It's strange how he looks like an animal and a prince at the same time. An otherworldly creature of indescribable beauty, even as he eagerly eats your essence off his face.

“(y/n), I can’t take it anymore…” He breathes frantically, finally allowing himself some sort of relief as he takes his erection out of his pants. His dick is so hard it fucking hurts. He really wanted to take things slow for your sake, but he only ended up edging himself to the point of almost going into a rut.

He lets his hot member fall against your stomach. He’s fucking huge, you stare with wide eyes at the point where his length ends across your abdomen. 

"It… it won't fit…" You mumble, even as your inexperienced asshole clenches with traitorous want.

"Not this time, probably not." Mira cradles your little body in his arms, "I'd have to train you for it to fit. Stretch you out until your insides have my imprint." He runs a hand down his face in a quick, agitated movement. Every single cell in his body is fighting against the urge to ravish you. His muscles hurt from tightening so violently and Malleus has to force himself to count to ten to keep from showing his cock inside you at once. 

“It’s… fine. I won’t hurt you.” He promises, searching your face for your approval as he lines himself against your entrance. He’s been alive for centuries and yet his heart has never beaten so fast. His hawk-like eyes are focused on you and you alone, burning the image of you laying helpless under him inside his corneas. 

Then you nod up at him, looking so cute as you try to put on a brave face that Malleus almost cums right then and there. The head of his dick slowly pushes inside you. Your head lulls back and Mira's hands shake violently.

It's so big. Your vision goes out of focus as your hole clenches around him greedily despite the pain. Stars, it's stretching you so well. He tried to prepare you for this and yet he still has to push to enter you because you're so fucking tight. Your legs shake uncontrollably, the feeling of being so thoroughly filled wiping out every thought in your head.

He finally touches the deepest place inside you, his large cock still not completely inside, and you both go completely still. The only sounds that break the humid silence are your loud gasps and his feeble ones, mixing together in a cacophony of absolute amazement as you two take in the surreal feeling of finally being connected.

Mira is inside you. You completely forget that this is a dream, that sentence repeating inside your head over and over again.

"...Small." He mutters. You look at him and your heart almost collapses at the tender expression on his face. You think his pupils might have turned into little hearts, a light blush dusting his pale cheeks as sweat drips off his hair and chin.

"So small." He makes a show of hovering over you completely and suddenly the sky disappears. There's only him. Above you and around you and inside you. You're face to face with his chest, and as you lean your head back, trying to catch his eyes, you see that he has to tuck his chin against his neck to look back at you. 

…

...

Fuck. Your heart lodges in your throat and your hole clenches around him, coaxing a surprised moan from both your lips.

"(y/n)..." your name sounds heavenly when he says it like that. On a quiet, vulnerable gasp.

"I… I'm going to start moving now, okay?" 

You can't speak, so you give him another frantic nod, squeezing your eyes shut. You're not prepared for how good it feels when he pulls back. His veins scrape against you, the stretching becomes almost unbearable and you're left moaning long and loud in a way that makes Malleus sweat. If you could see him now, you'd notice he looks almost shy, like the first time you kissed his cheek. 

He's almost out of you when he decides to thrust back in, scattering stars across your stomach with a single, gentle motion. Every nerve ending tingles with pleasure. Sweet nonsense falls from your lips and Malleus has to grit his teeth and dig his clawed fingers into the ground in order to cling to the last remains of his thinning patience. His fangs hurt with the primal urge to mark you.

"My (y/n)—" He eases into a steady rhythm, pushing what he can of his shaft inside you and rubbing your abused prostate with every thrust of his powerful hips. Sweat pours down his face, his hair sticks to his chin and his tongue swipes the salt off his lips, "My sweet boy—my cute little Deerlet—" His waist snaps back into your smaller one in short strokes, his movements growing more and more frenzied as tight, magma hot pleasure builds inside him. The obscene sounds that fill the air turn him on so much he's now full-blown moaning. His beautiful voice calls your name shamelessly, desperately, like you could disappear from under him at any given moment.

"I love you—you're mine—" He growls placing a large hand under your ass as he pounds into you, keeping your hips locked to his, loving the way your dick bounces against his stomach, “Say that you’re mine."

The order resonates inside your head. You're not even offended that he's using his magic to intimidate you. You can barely cling to your consciousness at this point.

"I am—I'm—yours, Mira!" You don't even know which way is up anymore, but you know that what you're saying is true. You belong to him. Your best friend. The love of your life.

"Malleus." He corrects you through gritted teeth, then he stops moving entirely, ignoring your disappointed cries as he desperately tries to resist the pull your body has on him, "Say I'm yours, Malleus." 

"I'm yours, Malleus." His real name becomes a moan in your mouth and Malleus finally snaps. There's no more gentle, just a carnal urgency and a need that has waited centuries to be satisfied. He pulls his hips back and then slams into you and fuck, you should be screaming by now but you can't, there's not enough air as you bounce over the flowers and sob, clinging to him like he's your lifeline.

The loud "Fuck!" that leaves his mouth pushes you over the edge, the word unexpected but so fucking sexy coming from his graceful mouth. You clench down around him, delirious as stars explode behind your vision, and drag him right over the edge with you. 

Malleus holds you so close to him you feel like you might melt into each other as he releases pulse after shuddering pulse of his essence into you.

He cums so much. You can feel his hot semen fill you up and then spill out like it's a waterfall. He's not letting go of you, his face hidden in your hair as he recovers from the star-shattering pleasure of finally, finally being one with you.

"I love you." He mutters, voice breaking.

...

He's crying. That lone thought destroys something inside you and you start feverishly kissing his jaw, his cheek, his neck, anything you can reach as you try to soothe him.

Don't cry don't cry don't cry—

You feel him starting to fade in your arms. You can feel yourself starting to fade.

Nonononono— Maker, please—

He pulls away from you and you finally see his face. 

He looks lost. His dark lashes are wet with tears, his mouth is curved in a confused frown and that's when you realize that he loves you so much, but he doesn't know how to process the feeling. He's like a panicked child and you are fading. And he’s always going to remember this moment, but you won’t.

You scream out his name, his real name.

…

And then you wake up, sobbing all over yourself, unable to remember. 

Epel tries his best to comfort you, but you don't stop crying for a long time.

___

Life goes on.

You have a part-time job at a beach bar, on the coastline that extends about 60 miles away from the village.

Epel hates that you have to travel so far when you could just help him out at the farm like you usually do, but you’ll be attending NRC coming September, and you want to save some pocket money for you and Epel to spend on all the cool city stuff you can’t find in your hole of a town.

Beau likes to walk you to the bus stop. Epel would too, but you won’t let him waste his time on you when he has his own work to take care of. Your lamb companion stops following you when the dirt road opens to the fields, getting distracted by the dandelions sprinkled at the edges of the village. 

"See you later, Beau." You chuckle, knowing he will go back to the farm as soon as he gets bored. Beau ignores you and munches away.

The bus stop isn't far, a lone plastic port on a background of sunflowers. As per usual you're the only one here, but the occasional horse and buggy passes by, and the farmers who live in the nearby granges all greet you with cheerful smiles on their faces. They all know where you're headed and wish you a good day at work. You really can't keep anything to yourself in such a small community.

The commute to the beach takes almost an hour. The road zig-zags and then straightens towards the coastline. You're almost tempted to doze off, but finding your way to the beach if you miss your stop is going to be a pain in the ass, so you force yourself to stay awake, keeping your eyes on the picturesque horizon and daydreaming about your mysterious man with the emerald eyes.

You always think about him when you’re riding this bus.

…

You should probably stop being so obsessed with him.

___

The sun is almost in the middle of the sky when you get to the beach bar, and as per usual, it's a crowded mess. This is the infernal hour, and not only because it's hot as sin.

There's people everywhere, craving drinks and food before they go lay down on their beach towels for the rest of the day, their flip-flops leaving sand in every corner of the bar that you'll be sweeping for an eternity. Screaming children run this and that way like they're high on vitamin gummies. Their melting popsicles leave a sticky trail on the ground. They step on it and spread liquid sugar everywhere.

…

Why do you work here again? 

…

Because the pay is good, and your coworker is cute.

Said coworker perks up when he sees you. His ears give an excited wiggle (Maker, he's adorable) and he shoots you a smirk that shows his little fangs, "Ah, kitten! Always a sight for sore eyes." He hisses a 'kishishishi' that you've learned to recognize as his laughter, his closed eyes looking like little half-moons.

"Now move your bum and go change. I need my sla—coworker to serve some tables outside.”

Figures. His lazy ass hates leaving the coolness of the bar to handle the customers sitting outside.

“Is that how you ask for favors, Ruggie?~" You tease him as you step behind the counter and head for the changing rooms in the back.

"I'd smooch ya as a treat but snoggin's not allowed in front of the children." He gives you a cheeky smile. One of the moms around the bar throws him a glare, but he shamelessly ignores it. 

You shake your head and grin to yourself. At least you have him around to make this job a little more bearable.

___

“I am dying.” You groan and rest your head on the counter, the coolness of the wood soothing your flushed face, “Why did I take this job anyway? I don't need the money! I can just live off the land with my lamb companion and eat apple jam for the rest of my days."

Ruggie snorts next to you. He finishes cleaning a beer glass and places it back on the decorative shelf behind you, “Says the one who only works half a shift.”

You turn your head to look at him, cheek smushed against the counter. Rush hour is finally over, but god, you're in pieces. Waiting tables is not as easy as it sounds, and dealing with entitled moms on vacation is a torture worse than stepping on two Legos at the same time.

The sun is starting to set. The blue sky fades into a gentle orange above the deep indigo of the calm sea. Your shift is almost over, but Ruggie will have to stay here for a while longer.

"I'm not a masochist like you." Your eyes follow him as he wipes, cleans, moves, washes and dries plates and glasses at half the speed it takes you to do it. He's like a super cleaning pro.

"Ye gotta work if you want ta eat." He pops open a can of peach tea, then pours it in a glass filled with ice.

"It's not masochism, it's the law of the Savannah." He places the glass right in front of your face. You lift your head off the counter and wrap your hands around the cold beverage as he shoots you a mischievous look. He waits for you to take a sip before adding: "But it's nice ta know you're so interested in my sexual preferences."

You choke.

He laughs that kishishishi sound.

As you wipe your mouth with your wrist and send him a half-assed glare, a familiar sparkle sizzles the air between you.

You bask in the sudden heat for a second, watching as Ruggie's blue-gray eyes trace a slow path down your body.

This kind of flirting is… not uncommon between the two of you, but it never really leads to anything, if only because you're both stuck manning the bar and you can't really leave the place unattended.

But something you can't help but wonder… would he act on it if you two were alone and away from trying eyes? Would you act on it? Ruggie is very cute… and witty and funny and reliable...

Regardless of your feelings on the matter, his casual teasing makes you feel like the hottest person on this beach, so you don't discourage it. You take another sip of tea, sighing through your nose at how pleasant the cold beverage feels when it runs down your throat.

...

"Uh…" Ruggie suddenly looks away, his cheek tinged the lightest shade of pink, "You may uh… want to take that shirt off, kitten."

...

What?

You look at him like he's grown another head.

"Excuse me?" You must have sounded more outraged than you feel, because your voice sends Ruggie into an embarrassed panic.

"N-not like that! It's just…! You've been sweating a lot and your shirt's gone transparent! I can see everythin' from here— I mean, what if a perverted old man walks in and sees you like that?"

You look down at your white shirt. It wasn't visible while you were wearing your green apron, but you can indeed see the outline of your nipples peek out from under the wet fabric, and you figure your wet back looks the same. Oops.

"Ah shit, sorry I didn't notice." You stand up and Ruggie turns his head away at the speed of light.

"No no… s'fine I have— a jacket you can wear while you walk home if ya need it."

Your lips quirk in a grateful smile as you head for the changing room, "Thank you! You're the best, Ruggie!"

"Yeah, yeah…" he breathes, quietly rubbing his temples as soon as you're out of the room.

___

Left alone in an empty beach bar, Ruggie barely resists the urge to slam his head against the counter. His shoulders are burning like he's been marked like cattle, and all he wants to do is to walk into the ocean until the waves swallow him completely. Maybe the abhorrent heat that singes his skin would fucking disappear then. And if not, at least the cold water would kill his boner.

This happens every fucking time. Every fucking time. He should be smarter than this, and yet he always falls for the same tricks, and the worst part is that he's tricking himself. Ruggie knows that flirting with you is akin to showing burning coals in his abdomen. He gets so fucking excited his entire body starts tingling with electricity, which is not the ideal state to be when you're at work.

And yet he still does it anyway.

Maybe he really is a masochist.

And maybe he should actually bend you over this counter and finally get rid of the frustration that's been building up inside him for the past two months.

And oh God, you're going to the same school as him in September. You're going to be prancing around in your little uniform, calling him 'senpai' and shit and he's going to have to go through his heat while being tortured like that.

Ruggie pours himself a glass of ice-cold water and downs it in one gulp.

Yeah, he's fucked. 

___

"Epel! Carry me!~" You cling to your friend, Grandma and Grandpa chuckling at your antics from the sofa and the armchair respectively.

Having finished washing the dishes, Epel wipes his hands on a dishcloth and pushes you away with his elbow, "No thanks. I'm tired too ya know."

This is not the first time you've done this song and dance. With how little you've been sleeping lately, you're always looking for excuses to be carried around by Epel. Your legs feel like jello, you are not walking all the way to the barn tonight. Just changing into your pajamas has been hard enough.

"Yeah, but you slept like a rock all night!" You hug him from behind and rest your lips against his shoulder, giving him an unimpressed look from over his shoulder, "I woke up to you drooling all over my shirt multiple times."

Epel flushes the color of the fruit he's named after and mumbles something unintelligible. He waves goodnight to his grandparents and so do you, then he struggles towards the front door, pretty much having to drag you across the hallway.

"If you're this tired then why don't ya just quit the beach job already?"

The two of you step outside, greeted by the loud crying of the cicadas. There's not a cloud above you, the stars clearly visible in the inky blue of the night.

"I can't do that. Ruggie needs me."

Epel scoffs. It's the exact same sound he made when he saw you come home wearing your coworker's jacket. 

"Why don't ya go ask yer darlin' Ruggie to carry ya then?" His accent gets more jumbled as his irritation grows. Still, for all his fussing, Epel bends down and waits for you to climb on his shoulders. 

You do so happily, nuzzling into him like a spoiled cat.

A pair of emerald eyes flashes behind your eyelids, but you shrug it off.

"Sorry but I'm too drunk to go back to the beach to ask him."

"Only you can get drunk after two glasses of apple cider." Epel smirks, ignoring you when you hit his arm and start whining again.

__

You lay down onto Epel's checkered blanket like a starfish.

"Where am I supposed ta sleep? On the ground?" Epel turns the lantern off, then lights the incense to keep away mosquitoes and other bugs and places it on the windowsill.

He turns towards you with his hands on his hips, watching as you lay in your shared nest without a care in the world, and sighs. So spoiled.

"You can sleep on top of me, I don't care."

Epel almost chokes on his saliva.

You laugh at his flustered face. It almost looks like he's angry, eyes wide and an outraged blush on his cheeks.

You open your arms for him, "Come on! It's not like we won't end up in this position in the morning anyway."

It’s true. Epel often rolls on top of you in his sleep, and nothing you do ever seems to shake him off or wake him up. You figure you can just get right to it, since he apparently loves resting his head on your chest while he snores.

Your friend closes the distance between you with three hesitant steps. "... You're such a moron, seriously." He mumbles, kneeling between your legs and then draping himself over you, careful not to crush you with his weight. He smells like apples, as always. His cotton pajamas and his fluffy hair make him the perfect cuddle buddy. You sigh contently into his hair and wrap your arms tighter around his back.

It’s quiet for a bit. Epel’s weight is strangely comforting over you. The sound of his steady breaths is a familiar lullaby, and you quickly find yourself floating in that comfy, tingly space between sleep and wake.

…

“Do you do this with Ruggie too?” 

Epel mutters so quietly you almost don’t hear him. He doesn’t say it accusingly just… like he’s sulking.

“... What?” Any semblance of sleep disappears from your mind as you catch his dejected tone of voice, “You mean like hugging?— Of course not.” You bring a hand to his hair and scratch his skull like you know he likes it, and you feel him relax in your arms.

…

…

“Have you ever kissed him?”

Okay, now you’re definitely wide awake.

You look down at him, trying to catch his expression, “Epel, what are you talking about?”

He raises his head and pins you down with a demanding, silvery gaze. You sigh and lay your head back down, closing your eyes as you think of the best way to answer him.

“I haven’t kissed him.” You open your eyes and catch Epel’s expression shift just a little. He tries to keep an impassive front, but you can tell he’s relieved, “But I’ve never kissed you either.” You could maybe understand the cuddle comparison, since Epel is your designated snuggle friend, but who you kiss or don’t kiss shouldn’t matter to him.

Right?

“... Do you want to?” 

Your breath catches in your throat. Everything seems to still around you. Your heartbeat speeds up as you look into Epel's eyes. You know he's pretty manly despite his soft features, but he's never been so… forward before. You two have always been like siblings, so you really didn't think Epel felt that way about you. Maybe he's just joking?

… He's not. His eyes dart to your lips and darken, like there's a thunderstorm inside his gaze. Soft blue turns to rainy gray.

Do you want to?

…

"Yes." You think Epel stops breathing, but you don't have time to think about it because he's suddenly leaning towards you, stopping only when his lips are a few centimetres away from yours.

His labored breaths fan your lips and send a flurry of tingles down your abdomen…

___

❥ How do you handle this situation with Epel?

⟶ Lay back and let Epel take the lead. You deserve this after being teased in your dreams by your mystery man and teased in real life by your hyena coworker. Besides, you kind of want to see what your stubborn Epel is capable of in bed... (sub!deerlet content)

⟶ Touch him, claim him, make him beg for the next kiss. With the way he’s always clinging to you, you suspect this is what Epel has always wanted anyway. (dom!deerlet content)

vote here     |      what is this?

❥ taglist: @mirrorsandpacts @stormweaver13 @bobaryn @justsomepersons @mokkeguts @maiieus @trashmomarcya @dat-bi-bitch @lem-thebeast @mythrule @hfhgjgji @zzz-sleeplessy-soft-xxx @anicious @kae-draws-sometimes @cogitover @sammy6667 @shrimp-heads @twistedmintcandy @gyghii @akelois @maknae-lenna @chiefcashgianthero @carasketch @mayorkoopbob @linseyz @gardenondreams @andromeda-gay @equus-meretrix @the-king-of-blue @spacebabesupernova @kagicannotsee @doraconia @hello-starlight @yandere-romanticaa @skyboo @uwu-dreams @kay8675 @meltyans @drawbud @msyaoigodkanna @roseinbloom02 @hoodiedevil @ikemenisruiningme @miiluka @hello-selene94 @moondustinhislungs @nosochek-3o @epher-posts @monoshii-wasu @rosavine @bitch-let-me-die @raychel @pumpkiethepie @hypmicluvbot @theallpowerfulrosami @mmquinno @mayunnaise21 @ruvelise @roaringyouth​ 

[daddychims]

Offside Pt 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Series Masterlist!

Genre: Smut, Soccer AU, College AU

Pairings: Soccer Player! Jungkook X Sports Trainer! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Other BTS members all make a cameo as well because I’m an OT7 Trash!

You work as a sports trainer, providing basic first aid and injury management for the Hanguk University’s soccer team. Going with your mundane life of caring for the dozen of guys hurting themselves in the soccer game takes a turn when one of the guys catches your eyes. It’s not his breathtakingly good looks or his muscular athletic body usually seducing girls at the campus that catches your eyes. But the action plan in your kit, indicating he is diagnosed with Asthma is what draws your eyes time and time again to the Golden Boy of Hanguk University.

Warning: Slow burn, eventual smut, Taehyung being a freaking tease the whole time, Fuckboy!Jungkook, Asthmatic! Jungkook , mentions of episodes of Asthma, Take your Ventolin kids, Take your medications kids!

"Can we talk?"

You turn around from where you're standing, checking through the content of your kit to make sure you have enough for the whole duration of the 90 minutes game.

"Not now sorry," You shake head quickly counting through the boxes of gauze and sigh in frustration "I should run back to the office."

"I need to talk to you," He persists, shifting to be in your sight, as you remain unfazed by his existence

"Jeon," you breath out his name in a mixture of anger and annoyance as you grab one of the boxes "I need another 3 boxes of these before I can even think of anything else."

"Fine," he reaches and grabs the box off your hand "Where do I get them from?" He shots back in a rushed tone 

"The game starts in 10 minutes!" your frown, not taking interest in his suggestion

"Then I'll be back in 5," he narrows his eyes "Where?"

"The main office," you respond, watching him with observant eyes "Second floor!"

"Fine," he nods as he pushes his hair back with his slender fingers "But when I come back, we're talking okay?!"

"fine!" you raise your hands as a sign of approval and watching him run back to the other side of the field where the main office is located.

You sigh sitting back down and rummaging through your kit again to ensure everything is prepared. Today is the day when Hanguk and SNU soccer teams go head to head for a friendly match.

Even though it's called a friendly match, you very well know how the field can resemble the war scene in at least 30 minutes from now.

These guys are the best of the best, the crops of the cream of their respective universities and its not just about their personal pride but their campus honour which is on the stake.

You already gave Dr Kim a heads up earlier that week, knowing very well the injuries that will happen on the day will exceed all your injury management experience summed up in the past two years.

Fortunately, he was more than happy to cover that night's shift with you, making sure everything goes smoothly with the two teams and hopefully, everyone come out of it alive.

"Y/N!"

You raise your head up, eyes glittering with joy upon seeing your friend running to you in his favourite soccer boots. 

"Namjoon, you're late!" you scold, watching him run to your clumsily 

"I know, I know," he sighs stopping by your seat and proceeds to do some stretches he should have done much earlier "One of the professors needed help with a paper so I stayed over time. Once I was done with it, it was already half an hour to the game. I dont know how I got here honestly."

"Yeah I get it, you're making good career connections in SNU," you roll your eyes laughing "whatever Joon! But this game is as important in your resume as the connections."

"Hey hey dont give me that sour attitude," he scolds pouting in response

"Fine, you cry baby," you ruffle his hair teasingly "Kick Hanguk's ass, I'm counting on you to teach the source of my nightmares a good lesson."

"Yes Sir-" he responds determined when a familiar figure cuts him off

"Captain," you both turn around seeing the small figure of Jimin nearing both of you

"Park, what's up?" He asks eyeing the guy with concerned eyes

"My neck," he grunts, face scrunched in pain "It's playing up again today."

"Just get it strapped then, we're short on time Park," Namjoon growls in response "Hanguk's a strong team buddy, we dont wanna get fucked in the butt on the friendly match, do we?"

"The sport's trainer covering today's shift called in sick," Jimin grunts in a worried tone "No one's coming to cover her shift either since she called in too late."

You watch your friend's expression hardening as he walks closer to his teammate and checks his tilted to one side neck.

"I haven't done many neck straps before but it'll be better than nothing-"

"I can do it for you," you quickly step in, bending down to grab a tape box off your kit "sit down! quick quick." you order and the guy's expression lightens with a smile

"sure," he shrugs sitting down across you “Thanks, you’re literally an God sent angel.” 

"Have you had tapes on there before?" You ask  in a rush as you neatly scissor the corners of your tape

"yeah I had," he responds eyeing you carefully as you lean closer to have a look at his neck and fit the tape on it “this pain has been here for a while now.” 

"I'm gonna have a feel first yeah?" You ask reaching up to palpate the side of his neck, feeling the muscles tense under your touch “Have you checked it with your sports medicine clinic?”

“Heat pack, massages, hold relax,” he lists them down as if he’s reciting them off a book “I’ve tried anything and nothing has worked.”

You nod your head, lips slightly pursing forward as you concentrate closely on where would the tape sit on his skin. 

"You know you should be grateful you get to touch me," He smirks looking up at you teasingly "Not everyone gets the privilege you know."

"alright thanks for the privilege Jimin," you narrow your eyes trying to find the sore spot on his neck "tell me where it hurts the most."

He flinches as you press harder on the area that you feel is knotted under your touch

"there!" he grunts in pain, face scrunching again as you touch your way down to his shoulder girdle "Yes, there Nghh ..."

You proceed to stick the corner of the tape on the side of his shoulder, eyeing the stretch you wanna create over the contour of his shoulder blade across to his spine and stick the other end there. 

"Come back for a quick review after the game," you instruct patting the rest of the tape on his skin to create some warmth and increase the adhesion of the material to his skin "Since I'm not familiar with your skin type, I might have done it too tight or too loose. I'll have to review for any reactions."

"Just say you wanna see me after the game again," He smirks, leaning closer to get a better sight of your focused eyes on his neck "Sweetheart you dont need to ask me indirectly."

"Park Jimin-" you scowl, eyebrows furrowing closer but your attention diverts to the guy who comes running back to you

"I came back in five minutes, you can-" his words cease on his lips, expression hardening at the sight of you and Jimin

"Hey Jeon!" Jimin calls with a smirk "nice to see you again. Ready for the game?"

"Can’t wait," Jungkook shrugs before bringing his attention back to you "here, we still have 5 minutes, let's talk!"

"Jungkook, I have to prepare for the game-"

"You said you'll talk to me if I come back in 5 minutes," He shouts back, throwing the boxes of sterile gauze in your kit "You know what screw this!"

You watch with a surprised expression as the guy runs towards the middle of the soccer field away from you.

"He was always a little too heated for his own," Jimin hisses under his breath, moving his neck from side to side "Damn that feels much better already, what did you do?"

"Its placebo effect," You scoff pushing your remaining tapes back in the kit "Seeing my beautiful face made you forget all about your pain." You chuckle 

"Well if that's the case ..." he stands up shifting closer and leaning to your face "Wire me some of your placebo effects before every game babe!"

You sigh looking the guy in the eyes for a few seconds "Just when I thought no one can be worse than Taehyung!"

He laughs at your remark and ruffles your hair "Thanks anyway," he mutters softly “ I'm gonna kick Hanguk's butt thanks to you, Miss Placebo Effect."

"Alright tough boy, Don’t go overboard and hurt yourself now." you nod patting his shoulder " I can't just simply strap you off if you come back with a broken bone."

He laughs out loud, amused at your cheeky response but before he can shot back with his usual sassy tone Namjoon calls for him and he waves his way to you before running to the field.

You watch the guy, sitting back in your designated chair when your eyes meet Jungkook's eyes and to your surprise, he's mouthing something to Taehyung while eyeing you carefully.

He furrows his eyebrows closer when he catches your eyes, jawline protruding at the corner of his chin indicating he's exerting some pressure there.

You quickly look away, watching the captains gathering each team to say their final words just before the whistle starts the game.

   -

  "If anyone wants a strap come through," you yell at the guys snap the door to the shower room open and rush inside, occupying the space.

You proceed to set the tapes and towels on the small table, swirling a couple of chairs around for the guys who'd soon be occupying them when you overhear the conversation over the well.

"You fucking slammed him Jeon," Taehyung's familiar deep voice echoes as he bumps Jungkook's shoulder with his fist "I've never seen you with your head so in the game."

"He keeps his fire for the right times," Yugyeom responds over the noises that almost block his voice from reaching you over the wall "That's Jeon's strength."

"You should have seen the pretty boy's face when you left the field," Taehyung laughs as he remembers the scene he witnessed moments earlier "He was fucking fuming."

"That's all he's good at," Jungkook finally speaks up in an unimpressed tone "In the end, his head is far up in his ass," He scoffs as he slams his locker closed "He gets ahead of himself and ends up getting in the way."

You furrow your eyebrows wondering who they're talking about so seriously but before you can continue to investigate further, you sense a shadow hovering over your height making you turn your head around to see the person.

"J-Jeon," you call gulping nervously as you quickly turn away from him and grab a towel "Ankle?"

He plops himself down on one of the chairs, raising his usually painful leg up on another as you quickly rummage through your tapes to find one appropriate for him.

"Have you got time after this?" He asks, tilting his chin up to observe you carefully

"I'd have to tidy this place up so I'll be here for a few more hours!" you explain as you cut the corners of the Kinesiology tape and measure it around your wrist to ensure its enough length for his ankle

"I can wait," he sighs, tone slightly annoyed "Except if you’re planning to continue avoid me like the past few days."

You stay silent, sitting across him and measuring the tape around his ankle again to confirm your guestimation. The corner of the tape sticks to his shin and you carefully pull the other end with enough stretch around the sole of his foot.

"I said what I wanted to say the other night," you finally speak up, trying your best to stop your voice from trembling in the middle

"Right, you did," he shrugs, bending his feet up and down as you taught him before while your circle his feet with the tape carefully  "But I havent!"

You stick the other side of the tape on his skin and tap the fabric on his shin to ensure it sticks right on the corners. You hate it when the corners of the tape lift up from the skin and it all looks messy. 

He sighs, dropping his feet down from the chair before kicking the chair out of the way. You look up at him with surprised eyes as you were still in the middle of your task, but he doesn't allow you to protest as he grabs the leg of your chair with one hand and pulls you closer to himself.

"So what do you say?" He raises an eyebrow, facing dangerously close to you "we talk? after you're done here?"

You look at him with a frown, slightly surprised that he's so persistent on his argument. Your lips part to answer him but the door of the office snaps open and you drift your head around to see who’s the person entering the place.

"Hey," Jimin greets, hand reaching up to make a mess of his wet strands of hair that indicated he just came out of the shower, “Didnt you say I should check this with you after the game?" He then looks at Jungkook , eyes attentively observing the close proximity of your bodies. 

"Right," you breath out, quickly standing up from your chair "come in."

Jungkook reaches for your hand and stops you from moving away from him "What time do you finish work?" he asks sternly

"If it doesn't take long tidying at about 8," you reply, twisting your wrist in his hold as an attempt for him to let go

"I'll wait for you then," he grumbles before standing up, the chair under him jolting back from his sudden movement

He throws a glare towards Jimin who's now settling on one of the chairs before limping his way to the shower rooms.