#what matters is that she's getting there!! wherever it is!!!

[scarletttext]

I blink twice at their question, suddenly understanding my friend's wish for me to be here.

".... well, I didn't know this was a meeting of immortals, but I guess being friends with Lady Death of the Endless might qualify for immortality "

Now it was their turn to blink, seemingly stunned at my answer.

"How in Gaea's name did you get HER attention??" The being in front of me near screeched, making me instinctively cover my ears. Being over seventy years old but not looking a day over 23 does NOT diminish the austistic reactions.

"Well, the first time I saw her I was only seven and had escaped an assassination attempt, incidently discovering that I could swim really well" I answered, turning my eyes to the ceiling and counting on my fingers, just now realizing we had garnered quite the attention.

"The next two times were also when I escaped assassination attempts, and the next four times after that were just me escaping death by my own follies", I turned my eyes back down, looking at the general area of the being's eyes, being non-human seemed to not matter when it comes to keeping eye contact for me. "I think after the seventh time she just decided to talk to me", I shrugged.

"But... how? Why?? Huh???" The being facing me stammered. What I didn't tell him were the perks Death gave me after we became friends, this bunch of immortals had no business knowing I could go wherever She went, or that we had tea together every saturday.

" I dunno fam, we're just friends, so I guess that means I don't die now :>"

"So, what immortality do you have?" "What?" "Well everybody in this room has a type of immortality, I got hyper regeneration, the guy over the is a lich, the girl in leather can save and reload, and I am not bothered enough to keep talking so what is your immortality?"

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 02

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: aqua uses her journalism degree to write a fake article, lots of yoongi pov, MC lore drop, extremely brief descriptions of sexual acts, some questions are answered but not many, sope cameo! also seokjin cameo! do you detect a hint of hyyh yoonkook-ism? because you should! EVENTS TRANSPIRE! (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 5.2k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: damn i always drop early don't i? here's a pre-holiday gift for those of you who celebrate thanksgiving. thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for beta reading SO FUCKING FAST LOL <3

p.s. from here on out updates are going to be much slower. we’re getting to the Real Plot now and i have to use my brain a little bit more. plus i want to make time to write other, shorter things! so be sure to check out my other fics if waiting for this becomes unbearable lol

CH. 02: A HIT IS HARD TO RESIST

Love in the Spotlight: Is "Burn The Stage" Singer Falling for a Scandal Magnet?

It’s the love story that’s rocking Seoul—and leaving fans divided. Jeon Jeongguk, the smooth-talking, chart-topping frontman of “Burn The Stage,” has been the subject of intense speculation after rumors surfaced that he’s been secretly seeing one of South Korea’s most talked about models, YLN YN. And while Jeongguk’s millions of fans would do anything to claim him as their own, it’s YN’s wild reputation that’s making this relationship one to watch.

The dating rumors of the two surfaced online when YN was seen on the balcony at Wasteland during the final show of the Burn The Stage’s world tour. Eyewitnesses claim that after the show, the two were spotted backstage together, sharing a private moment.

While Jeongguk’s image has been polished and pristine despite his rock star persona, YN’s name is frequently linked with controversy. From a string of public feuds with fellow influencers to rumors of reckless behavior, she has garnered a reputation for attracting scandal wherever she goes—a trait at odds with what fans have seen from Jeongguk. So what could possibly draw the two together?

Some fans are already sounding the alarm, warning Jeongguk that dating someone like YN could tarnish his squeaky-clean image.

“I don’t know why Jeongguk would choose her,” one concerned fan commented on Instagram. “She’s trouble, and he’s too good for her. His image will be ruined if this is true.”

Despite the criticism, others are rallying behind the couple, suggesting that Jeongguk may be the one to help YN change her ways. “Everyone has a past,” one fan posted on X (formerly known as Twitter). “Maybe Jeongguk sees something in her that no one else does. People can grow and evolve.”

While neither Jeongguk or YN’s companies have released an official statement on the matter, YN hasn’t been shy about fueling the rumors. In a recent post on her Instagram, she shared a photo of herself wearing a Burn The Stage hoodie, captioning it, “i guess i’ve got good taste 👀” which has sent fans into overdrive speculating that she’s sending a not-so-subtle message about her relationship with Jeongguk.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Yoongi groans to himself. He can’t read any more of this drivel. The wooden table in front of him suddenly looks all too inviting, perfect for him to bash his skull into.

You’re everywhere, completely inescapable for the past week. Apparently, Yoongi’s bi-weekly breakfast with Hoseok is no exception. The first one they’ve been able to have since the tour, too. God forbid he wants to mindlessly scroll on his phone for a second while he waits for his friend to return, because there you are, taunting him. 

After the concert, Yoongi had been so annoyed by seeing you again. Pissed off at the circumstances. Ready to do anything in his power to extricate you from Jeongguk as fast as possible.

The past week has dulled his rage considerably. The endorphins of playing live have died, as have the potent emotions that come with them. Yoongi’s logical adult brain has set in, leaving him with only a headache.

“Woah,” Hoseok says, snorting as he slides a coffee into Yoongi’s field of vision. He slips into the booth across from him, taking a sip from his own cup with an amused look on his face. “You look much more homicidal than I left you. What could’ve possibly pissed you off in the last five minutes?”

Wordlessly, Yoongi hands Hoseok his phone, the article still displayed on the screen. Hoseok silently reads the first few paragraphs, and when he scrolls back up to look at the photo attached, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Oh?” he says, zooming in on your face. On Yoongi’s phone. The audacity. “This is the Innisfree girl, right? She’s dating Jeongguk?”

“Allegedly.”

“Is her skin really that nice in person?”

“Not the point,” Yoongi hisses, snatching his phone back from Hoseok’s grip and hastily closing the article to get your dumb face off of his phone. Dumb, poreless face.

“Okay, touchy,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in surrender. “Please explain the point.”

“I don’t trust her,” Yoongi says, tapping his foot under the table. “The relationship is bogus. She’s after something, I just can’t figure out what it is.”

“And you’re basing this on…?”

“Intuition,” Yoongi says flatly.

“Right. Because your intuition is never wrong,” Hoseok says, tone laden with sarcasm. “Need I remind you that you weren’t the biggest fan of me when we met?”

“I thought you were annoying,” Yoongi agrees. He takes a sip of his coffee to mask a smirk. “Who says I was wrong about that?”

“I’d probably be hurt if you hadn’t essentially bought us couple rings last year,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows. “You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Aish, they weren’t couple rings,” Yoongi complains. “Stop saying that. The wrong person is going to hear you and think it’s true.”

“Your ears are pink!” Hoseok exclaims triumphantly, pointing at the evidence. “Your mouth says one thing, but your ears always give you away.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Yoongi grumbles, pulling his beanie down. “Stop changing the subject.”

“Right, right. Sorry, hyung, you’re just so easy to tease,” Hoseok says, not even bothering to stifle his snickering. The bastard. “Jeonggukie’s new lady love. Go. Wait, do you want to fuck her?”

“What?” Yoongi sputters, eyes widening because what the fuck? “No—what? Look, it’s not just intuition, okay? I’m right about her. And you saw what the article said—drama follows her wherever she goes. Maybe she thinks dating Jeongguk will rehabilitate her image, or something like that.”

Yoongi had been so confident that wasn’t the case, since you’ve maintained all of your brand deals even in the midst of your many scandals, but maybe he was wrong. He still doesn’t know why you’re doing this, and it’s like the closer he gets, the less he can see.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi groans, rubbing his hands over his face. “She’s also just a bitch.”

“Okay,” Hoseok concedes, crossing his arms. “If you say so. She’s a bitch who you don’t want to fuck. What are you going to do about it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I have that dinner tomorrow night. I was thinking of talking to Jeongguk after or something.”

“And telling him that his girlfriend is the devil? I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Yoongi sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jeongguk is a stubborn kid, but he knows I wouldn’t ruin something good for him. If I word it right, maybe he’ll listen.”

“You’re not wrong. For whatever reason, Jeongguk trusts your judgement.”

Yoongi glares at him. “Go fuck yourself, Hob-ah.”

“Whatever, hyung,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s talk about something else, please. I haven’t seen you in months.”

Yoongi relents easily. He doesn’t really want to be talking about you either, not when it feels like an ice pick is being jammed into his temple. 

He’ll just have to figure out what to say to Jeongguk later.

★ ★ ★

“Wow,” Seokjin says around a mouthful of jjapaguri. “He really hates you, huh?”

He’s fresh out of a long shift at the hospital, but he still headed straight to your apartment at the promise of food and celebrity gossip—his two biggest weaknesses, especially when the food doesn’t have to be made by him and the celebrity is you.

“Seems like it,” you sigh, using your chopsticks to push your noodles around aimlessly. “Normally I wouldn’t care, you know? Like, get in line, asshole.”

“But you care.”

“But I care.”

“Because of Jeongguk,” Seokjin says knowingly.

You drop your chopsticks and groan, stifling the sound by covering your face with your hands.

“Yes,” you concede. “But not because of that. I just want to help him, you know? He got me through a really rough spot last year. I’d feel like shit if I agreed to do this for him and then it ended up blowing up in our faces because of me.”

“Mmm,” Seokjin hums, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m sure the fact that you’re in love with him is a big motivator, though.”

You pick up your head, glaring at him. “Love is a big word, Jin.”

A very big word, you think, picking up your glass of wine to take a long gulp. God help you.

“A fitting one, too!” he says gleefully. “Come oooon. No judgement here. He’s hot. Not as hot as me, of course, but I have to give credit where credit is due.”

“Yes, you’re a god among men,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. “I don’t love Jeongguk. Not like that, at least. Do I need to remind you of the whole reason I’m doing this in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah, the secret girlfriend,” Seokjin says, waving a hand dismissively. “Whatever. You’re spending a lot of time with him, is all I’m saying. The tides may turn in your favor.”

Wow, and you thought you were delusional.

“Fat chance,” you deadpan, polishing off your wine. “Especially if Yoongi is as persistent as he’s making himself out to be.”

“What’s his beef with you, anyway?” Seokjin asks, snorting to himself as he picks up a piece of steak with his chopsticks. Hilarious. “I feel like he’s going a little far for it to just be protectiveness, you know?”

Right. When you’d given Seokjin the rundown via text, you’d left one pretty substantial piece of information out.

“He said, um,” you start, picking at one of your nails nervously—a habit that Hyerin would smack you on the back of the head for, if she were here. “He said that he knows… more than I think.”

Just like that, all of the humor drains from Seokjin’s expression. “Meaning…?”

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice wobbling just a bit. “I don’t know, but if it does mean that… It makes the idea of rolling over and doing what he says pretty enticing, not gonna lie.”

“Fuck that,” Seokjin says firmly, your eyes widening in response. “If he’s the type of guy to use something like that as blackmail, then he’s a piece of shit. I don’t care if he is trying to protect Jeongguk.”

“He can’t know, though,” you groan, fully resting your head on the cool marble of your kitchen countertop now. 

You’ve been wracking your brain for days now, trying to figure out if it’s even possible for Yoongi to know anything. You’re pretty confident the answer is no, but there’s no way to be one-hundred percent sure without confirmation from the man himself. And you’d honestly rather die.

“Nobody knows except the people involved and you. You’re the only one who didn’t sign an NDA, and I’m pretty confident you’ve never met Min Yoongi. Not to mention you just wouldn’t—”

“Share that information? Hell no, I wouldn’t,” Seokjin interrupts, scoffing. “Okay, well… Regardless of whether he knows anything, he honestly just sounds like a dick and I think you should kill him.”

You snort, lifting your eyes to look at him from where your head rests on the counter. “Maybe that can be plan B,” you offer.

“Fine, then what’s the plan A?” Seokjin counters, crossing his arms and raising a conspiratorial eyebrow at you.

Fantastic question, one you’ve been thinking about the answer to since you abruptly left the afterparty that night. It’s not like you can tell Jeongguk what’s going on and risk having to tell him the whole truth. You trust Jeongguk, but…

No, it’s not an option. You don’t want anyone else to know. So, if Yoongi’s going to insist on being a problem for you, you might as well return the favor. It’s only fair.

You grin, lifting your head and leaning closer to Seokjin.

“I’m going to make his life a living hell.”

★ ★ ★

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents. 

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

“You don’t like what you ordered?” Jimin asks you, snapping Yoongi out of his thoughts.

Yoongi’s made an effort to keep to himself for the majority of the dinner. No use in ruining everyone else’s night—it’s still a special one, after all. Besides, he’s still trying to be an adult about things. You may have ruined his plan to talk to Jeongguk tonight, but it’s not like he’s going to cause a scene in front of a restaurant full of people—

“Oh, I’m just not very hungry,” you say. Yoongi’s eyes narrow.

All you’ve been doing all night is burrowing into Jeongguk’s side, barely touching your food. Lipgloss still perfectly in place. Normally, Yoongi wouldn’t care—he’s not paying for it. He wastes food on the label’s dime all the time. At Yoojung Sikdang, though?

“Why did you come, then?” 

The words come out of Yoongi’s mouth before he can stop them, sharp and pointed. He’d fully intended to keep his mouth shut, eat his food, and then go home. Maybe buy a pack on the way. But now they’re out there, and Yoongi can’t bring himself to care. Certainly not to feel bad.

For the first time since you’d walked in on Jeongguk’s arm, you make eye contact with him. On purpose this time—challenging. Yoongi’s not a little bitch, so he stares back. 

“Because Jeonggukie invited me,” you say, faux sweetness dripping from your words as you lean your head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Eyes still fixed on Yoongi. “I figured it would be okay, since you all gave me such a warm welcome last time.”

Yeah. Yoongi’s buying that pack of cigarettes. 

“You’re always welcome to come out with us,” Taehyung coos, like he thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world. Knowing Taehyung, he probably does.

Everyone seems to be in agreement on that front, too, except Yoongi who rolls his eyes as he shoves a ssam into his mouth. Whatever.

“It’s gonna be hell getting you out of here, though,” Namjoon adds from Yoongi’s left. He leans over to glance at the crowd of people peering through the front of the restaurant, cameras at the ready, desperate to get a glimpse of you and Jeongguk. Not that you’re making it particularly hard.

“We’ve never had a crowd like that out there,” Jimin says, in awe. “I’m not surprised, though. Those articles about you two have been getting tons of clicks.”

“Ah,” you say. If Yoongi didn’t know better, he’d think you sound almost sheepish. “That, um. That might be my fault. I told my manager I was coming here. She must’ve tipped someone off.”

Of course.

“Anything for a photo-op, right?” Yoongi sneers, unable to help himself. It’s such an easy shot, after all. You’re being so transparent.

“Hyung,” Taehyung says, eyes wide as if he’s appalled. 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi-ssi,” you say, tilting your head at him. That little flash of a challenge is still in your eyes, and Yoongi doesn’t like it one bit. “Do you have a problem with me being here?”

Yoongi scoffs, sitting up. When he speaks, it’s laced with bitterness. “We just don’t normally come here with guests, that’s all. I guess I didn’t get the memo that that’d suddenly changed.”

“I invited her, hyung,” Jeongguk says. “She’s my girlfriend.” He wraps his arm around you protectively and, fuck, you’re good. You’re so good at making Yoongi look like the asshole.

“I get that, Guk-ah,” Yoongi tries, his voice considerably softer now. “But, come on… Here? And the mob outside, I mean… Do you really think that was just a harmless mistake?”

“What are you implying?” Jeongguk grits out. He’s angry now, that much is clear, and it’s Yoongi’s fault. 

You have him trapped. He’s surrounded by landmines, unable to come up with a single response that could possibly defuse them.

“Come on, guys,” Namjoon says, glancing at Yoongi pointedly. “We’re here to celebrate.”

“If Yoongi-ssi is uncomfortable that I’m here, maybe I should go,” you say, making to get up.

Jeongguk reaches for your arm, stopping you. “No,” he says. “Yoongi-hyung, you can either get over it and stay with us, or you can leave. You’re the only one who doesn’t want her here.”

Un-fucking-believable.

“Are you serious?” Yoongi scoffs, looking around at everyone. Is this really happening to him right now? This is his band!

The table is deadly silent. Everyone refuses to meet Yoongi’s eyes except you and Jeongguk, who raises a challenging eyebrow at him. It’s immediately apparent to Yoongi that he’s not winning this one. That somehow, he’s ruined the night meant to celebrate him and his friends.

Bitterly, Yoongi laughs. “Fine.”

No one protests when he pushes his chair away from the table and stands up, and that stings much more than Yoongi would like to admit.

He catches your eye as he grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, anger flaring at how pleased you look. 

“Have a nice fucking dinner,” Yoongi mutters, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. Leaving his friends to face a crowd of photographers and fans that you called.

As he walks out into the cold, dodging the phones being shoved in his face, all he can think about is the way Jeongguk had looked at him.

★ ★ ★

You met Jeon Jeongguk a year ago, give or take a few months. You just remember it was cold.

Less than twenty-four hours after a particularly nasty breakup with a guy you didn’t love but liked enough, you were back on the clock. Zipped into something tight and expensive, wearing the best waterproof mascara money could buy.

You hated those events to begin with—the galas, end of year ceremonies for awards you were no longer viable to win. They were torture for you. But the sting of being freshly single only made things worse, so you had decided to make the most of it.

You may not have been able to win a KMA, but you were well within your rights to treat the KMAs themselves like your own personal dating pool. No better way to rid yourself of your ex like getting with someone new, you thought.

Which is where Jeongguk came in, devastatingly hot in his tailored suit. You’d ran into him on your way from the bathroom—much like you had with Yoongi, now that you think about it—and you instantly found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss a guy with a lip ring. Jeongguk, as it turned out, was very interested in showing you. 

You were both a little drunk, but the attraction was real. Instant. 

One very handsy cab ride later, and you were in his apartment, grinding on his lap as you experienced first-hand just how little of an obstacle a lip ring can be if the man who has it knows what he’s doing.

Things were going so well—Jeongguk’s tongue exploring your mouth as you felt his cock stiffening beneath you. But it all came crashing down as soon as his hand slid under your dress.

The fact of the matter was, you’d just been dumped. Regardless of how strongly you did or didn’t feel about your ex, you’d still been dumped and it still hurt. As soon as Jeongguk really touched you, it became all too apparent that you wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Luckily, at the slightest bit of hesitance from you, Jeongguk’s hand immediately retreated from under your dress. 

He was sweet about it. Really, really sweet. Valiantly ignored his erection and offered to listen instead, which made you laugh. Comforted you even though you hadn’t thought you needed it. Let you sleep in his bed anyway. When you left the next morning, kindly offered to be your friend, because you clearly needed one.

You’ve been friends ever since. 

Not in the same way that Seokjin is your friend, of course. Seokjin is your best friend, has been since you were both kids. But Jeongguk just… He gets the industry, in a way that Seokjin never will.

Which brings you to last month.

Last month, when Jeongguk called you nervously in the middle of his tour schedule. Asked you to be his fake girlfriend in guilty, hushed whispers.

You didn’t need to know why. You were always going to say yes. 

But Jeongguk explained anyway. He explained that he has a girlfriend, a real girlfriend, who isn’t from your world. That he hasn’t been able to see her nearly as much as he’d like to because he’s terrified of the backlash she could receive from being connected to him romantically.

You read between the lines—you have nothing to lose, at this point. There isn’t a day that goes by where someone online doesn’t have something to say about you, reputable or not.

He explained that in order to maintain the lie, no one in the industry could know the truth, not even Jeongguk’s bandmates. According to him, they wouldn’t understand why he felt the need to go to such lengths. You didn’t completely agree then, but having met Yoongi now, you get it.

His girlfriend knows about you, he’d told you. She knows who you are, knows about that night last year, and that she still agreed to let him ask you this. She doesn’t see you as a threat.

It stung, a little. Of course it did. You and Jeongguk may be friends, but you’ve always felt a hint of something else there. Maybe it was the kindness he’d shown you when you met. Maybe it’s just him. But you never said anything, convinced it was one-sided.

Clearly you were right.

Still, you want to do this for him. You care about him, and just because you can’t maintain a stable relationship doesn’t mean Jeongguk doesn’t deserve a chance at one.

You think, if Yoongi knew, he’d feel the same.

★ ★ ★

Five years down the drain, Yoongi thinks. Ashes his cigarette. Oh well.

Honestly, it’s not even really about you, although Yoongi would love to pretend otherwise. If he pins it all on you, it makes his mission to get rid of you all the more noble. The label breathing down his neck. The impending deadline of an album he doesn’t know if he can write. Dongsaengs that don’t know how to stay out of trouble. If it’s all your fault, it can’t be his.

This—the smoking—was bound to happen, with or without you. You just helped the process along.

He’s perched on his windowsill, puffing his way through cigarette number two, when his phone buzzes next to him.

Namjoon doesn’t call him nearly ever. Yoongi has a way that he likes things done, and Namjoon is probably his only friend that actually respects it. Emails for work. In-person or texts for personal shit. Video calls never. Phone calls only if Yoongi needs to hear it now and there’s no other way.

Yoongi picks up.

“Joon-ah?” Cautious. He likes phone calls the least because phone calls mean trouble, like someone is in the hospital. He’s gotten that call before, more than once.

“Hyung,” Namjoon says. “Do you have a minute?”

Namjoon wouldn’t be asking that if someone was in the hospital, so Yoongi allows himself to unclench. Just a little. “Yeah, I have a minute.”

He hears rustling on the line, like Namjoon is fidgeting. But Namjoon is always fidgeting, so that could mean nothing.

“I figured, given the events of tonight, that it would be a good call to warn you ahead of time. I would’ve come by your apartment, but I’ve got meetings all morning tomorrow and it’s late. I didn’t want to wait until next time I see you though, so…” Namjoon starts, trailing off. 

Yoongi works his jaw. “Spit it out, Joon-ah,” he says, because Namjoon is shit at delivering bad news. He’s always beating around the bush, trying to soften the blow. It’s great for the kids, but it makes Yoongi feel like he’s about to have to bury his first-born or some shit. Yoongi likes clear, direct.

Namjoon knows this, so he always gets it right on the second try.

“YN is going to the Jeju house with you guys,” Namjoon says. Clear and direct, but the absolute last thing Yoongi wants to hear right now. 

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not.”

“She has literally no fucking reason to be there, Joon-ah,” Yoongi grits out. The cigarette secured between his index and middle knuckles has burned down to nothing, singes his fingers. He hisses and flicks it out the window. “Is she going to help us write an album? Is that it?”

“Hyung—“

“No, she isn’t. She’s going to distract my lead singer the whole time and make the whole point of the trip fucking impossible,” he interrupts, because once he gets started he can’t stop. “Who signed off on this? Doesn’t she have a job? Isn’t there a goddamn camera that needs to be smoldered at?”

“Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon says. He’s using his manager voice, and Yoongi shuts up instantly. 

Namjoon uses this voice on the kids all the time. Realistically, it’s not a big deal. It’s his job. But he’s never had to use it on Yoongi before.

He deserves it, though. Yoongi knows that. He knows that he’s been insufferable ever since you showed up, and he doesn’t like it either. He’d wanted to talk to Jeongguk, to have a heart-to-heart with him about it, but that’s proven impossible given that you’re always around. And Namjoon is their voice of reason.

Yoongi tries again.

“I don’t like her,” he explains, keeping his voice level. “I don’t think she has Jeongguk’s best interests at heart. I’m just trying to look out for him.”

The line stays quiet for a long moment, like Namjoon is taking special care in choosing his next words. It would make Yoongi nervous, but that’s just what Namjoon does.

“Hyung, you need to leave it alone,” he finally says.

What the fuck.

Yoongi could have foreseen plenty of responses from Namjoon. He’s been on the receiving end of Namjoon’s sage advice more than he’s proud of. Yoongi worries a lot, and Namjoon is particularly good at quieting those worries, particularly when they pertain to the kids. And they usually do. But he sure as shit wasn’t expecting to be blown off like that.

“Joon-ah, Jeongguk is gonna—“

“Jeongguk is a grown man. He’s fully entitled to make his own decisions, and you need to respect that if you don’t want to lose him.”

Lose him? Is Yoongi going insane? Is he fucking missing some integral piece of this puzzle that everyone else seems to have?

The notion of losing Jeongguk is completely absurd. How could he lose Jeongguk over something like this? Jeongguk, the college freshman with the huge eyes who followed Yoongi around like a puppy. Jeongguk who sang so softly when Yoongi asked, who beamed with pride when Yoongi told him he had something special. Jeongguk who dropped out alongside Yoongi, took a risk because he trusted his hyung to take care of him.

It was Yoongi and Jeongguk before it was anyone else, and Yoongi has never let Jeongguk down once, won’t allow himself to. This is the thing that’s going to change that? 

“What are you even talking about?”

“Just… leave this one alone, Yoongi,” Namjoon sighs. “She’s coming whether you like it or not, and you need to at least pretend to play nice.”

Yoongi doesn’t appreciate being treated like a child who’s the cause of his parent’s headache, not by Kim Namjoon. The label dickheads are one thing, but the one person Yoongi has entrusted with everything for the past five years? Before that, even? Fuck that. Namjoon doesn’t talk to him this way, and that’s not about to change because of you.

“Namjoon-ah, if you’re going to blow me off, at least put my cock in your mouth and do it right,” Yoongi spits, hanging up before he can think better of his words.

Fuck.

Yoongi hasn’t bitten Namjoon’s head off like that in a long time. It doesn’t feel good to be back in old patterns like this. Yoongi knows why he doesn’t trust you, but he doesn’t know what it is about you that makes it so—urgent. Like he’s a wild animal primed to bite. To hurt. Yoongi isn’t that guy. 

If what Namjoon said is true, if Jeongguk really is at risk of slipping through Yoongi’s fingers, he has to get his fucking act together. He has to try harder to handle this like an adult.

So, you’re coming to Jeju. Fine. Yoongi can be civil.

Even if the only way for him to be civil is not to speak to you at all.

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[peach-top]

❝𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉❞

➤ ACT I. | CHAPTER III.

➤ FLOWER CROWNS

“White Lily Cookie! His majesty told us about your awakening!” Silverbell beamed with excitement upon hearing the news. “Are you ok? How are you feeling?!”

“Silverbell Cookie. Sorry, I'm still trying to get used to this.” White Lily Cookie frowned.

The silver haired male nodded with understanding, “It’s ok. We'll leave you alone to catch your breath. You can call me whenever you need me.”

“Thank you…” White Lily nodded with a soft smile on her face. Silverbell gives the female a grin before leaving her with her thoughts. White Lily’s smile turned upside, replacing it with a frown. She gripped on the railing of the bridge and looked down at her reflection in the water.

“Dark Enchantress Cookie is still out there…So, why am I here…?” White Lily whispered. “My soul jam…they're gone. If I remember correctly, they were scattered into pieces. Some pieces of my memories are still blurry.”

“...” The white haired female then looked up at the night sky, “I wonder…”

White Lily Cookie stares at the moon that appears to never be a full moon. It's just a crescent moon. Why? It never seems to show the full moon for a long time now. However, White Lily remembers reading in the book that the moon was broken by a cookie with a work of dark magic that no other had seen before.

There's these times when a blood moon appears once a year. White Lily always witnessed it when she had the time just to study about it and the cookie responsible for it. However, she was forbidden to learn any further because of risk.

But the moon doesn't matter anymore. It's [Y] she's wondering about. Someone who has awakened her with the work of his magic and life jam. The magic aura surrounding him is a familiar feeling. She never encountered this sort of magic, but it gives her a feeling that she has met him before…or did she?

❝i envy you…white lily cookie…❞

White Lily gasped at the unsettled voice echoed in her head. She then jumps when she hears someone approaching her. It was [Y], who happened to arrive at the bridge.

“Oh, it's you. Shouldn't you be with Elder Faerie?” White Lily asked.

“Ah. Elder Faerie has important matters to attend to. We'll have a tour another time. I've come here to explore the kingdom myself until I've found you here.” [Y] said. “Am I interrupting something? Hope I'm not disturbing you or anything.”

“...N…no. I was just deep in thought…” White Lily mumbled before turning back at the water.

“Oh, then I'll leave you to it, then.” The taller male said as he was about to walk away.

“Um…About that life stone you're carrying…” The white haired female spoke, stopping the male mid-step. “How does it work?”

“The life stone? Oh, they keep me alive. Millennial Tree found me and revived me with the help of this stone.” [Y] explained. “If it was to be shattered, then I'll crumble. I don't remember much after I was given a new life under a new name.”

“A life stone that kept you alive? I never thought something like this could work on a cookie…” White Lily blinked owlishly. “What is it like to carry a life stone attached to your body?”

“Not sure, but it felt great. Without the life stone, I wouldn't be able to see the world.” [Y] smiled gently. “Giving a second chance to life felt great. Learning magic, making both animal and cookie friends alike, and learning things that I've never experienced before. There's so much to learn about.”

“...I hope you won't suffer a similar fate like I did.” The white haired female muttered. The taller male wasn't able to hear it, “Huh? Did you say something?”

“It's nothing…” The white haired female frowned before looking back at the water.

“Say…what are you gonna do now that you're awake..?” The taller male asked.

“...I’m not sure. I think I should stay here to clear my thoughts. I don't think I'm prepared to go face-to-face with my friends, wherever they are…” White Lily said.

“Take your time. It will take some time to be able to open up to others once again.” [Y] stated as butterflies started flying around him. “How about we hangout? We'll see what can help you with stress.”

“...You are so kind…You reminded me of Pure Vanilla Cookie…” White Lily mumbled.

“...?”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Elder Faerie frowned at the news he just received, the flower was getting more and more aggressive. It wasn't like this until [Y] arrived at the Faerie Kingdom. The flower was trying to escape. Elder Faerie knew it was trying to escape to its master.

“It's getting worse and worse. We don't know how to silence it any longer…!” One of the faeries whined.

Elder Faerie wanted to test this theory. He spotted [Y] with White Lily and grabbed the sealed flower then faced it towards the [h] haired male. To his surprise, the flower stopped.

“I see. So, it wanted to return to their master…” Elder Faerie mumbled.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

White Lily seated at the garden a few inches away from [Y]. She watches as the taller male tries to create a flower crown while being surrounded by animals.

“I've heard that flower crowns symbolize peace, so I thought it might help you to relax in peace.” [Y] stated while holding a flower crown made out of white lilies. “With white lilies symbolizing purity. What do you think?”

“...I think it's lovely…” White Lily smiled softly. [Y] doesn't know whether it's a forced smile or not. He offered the crown to White Lily and placed it on her head. He then smiles genuinely, “It looks great on you. It suits you. You look like a beautiful queen.”

The female blushes at the compliment, “...I…I don't consider myself as a queen.”

“I'm sure you'll make a great queen for the Faerie Kingdom. You put up so much effort in sealing the silver tree.” The taller male stated. “The faeries here look up to you because of your heroic act.”

“They do, don't they?” White Lily mumbled. [Y] nodded, “They sang a song for you while you were asleep to show their gratitude. You should at least be happy that you're still being accepted by them even after what you've done.”

“...Do you really think I can still undo what I've done?” White Lily asked.

“That's something I'm not sure about, but hope you'll be able to find a solution to that…” [Y] replied. “Just don't be hard on yourself. Overthinking things isn't good. It'll cause more stress, you know?”

“He's too kind. Just like Pure Vanilla Cookie. I hope he's safe…” White Lily thought.

➤ chapter ii.

➤ chapter iv.

the flower (old)↓

[dvchvnde]

You tell him your name in the first three minutes of clambering into his truck. 

It's rattled off between where you’re going (wherever he'll take you), where you'd like to be (the ocean, the sea, the ocean and the sea and the mountains; a place where both meet—), and sits, nestled, in the heart wrenching travesty of where you ended up. In a truck with just a stranger for company, destination unknown.

Your whole life packed up inside of a box resting on the rusting bed of his truck. No one knows you left. They'll figure it out in the morning, you're sure. A ant that escaped the colony. Left for something better and got stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a few hundred dollars to your name, and a box filled with junk.

(stupid, stupid girl—)

It's quiet in the cab. The only sound cutting through is the crunch of gravel and dirt under his tires. The noises his engine make.

The sound of his truck is not too dissimilar to an old, sick cat. It doesn't quite purr. It sputters. Sickly. Hacks through corroded lungs, spitting up plumes of thick, black smoke into the air. You grip the worn, threadbare seats until your nails ache, feeling each jerk and dip of the road acutely in your chest. Thump, thump, thump.

This might have been a mistake, you think, eyes staring firmly ahead. Through the streaks on the windshield, the horizon a smears a pale pink beneath powder soft blue. Cloudless. The sun is to the west. Maybe. Your knowledge of the world outside of the box is rooted in a weathered textbook printed back in 1935.

(A dumb girl, mamma always said. But at least you have your pretty face.)

Embarrassment needles in—that familiar knife of shame cutting into your seams. You swallow it down. It doesn't matter. Not here. Not in this truck. You'll go somewhere else. A big city where the books are based in fact, and you'll read and read and read until you're not just pretty face. Empty space. Something to gawk at but not engage.

an ornament girl.

It makes you itch to say something. To fill the air with whatever might impress him even if you don't think you like this man too much. But you don't. You bite your tongue because smart girls like silence, don't they? They like the time to think because that's what they do; think, and that's what you do, even if they race by like silverfish, too quick to catch: just think, think, think—

But as the winding back roads of the flat prairie yawn into thickened wheatfields and towering tussocks of corn deeper in the rural, unpopulated countryside, he speaks, voice rough. Gritty. It grazes over your neck like a sharpened blade, tip pressing against your jugular. 

"Don't care what your name is," he grunts, rummaging through the console for a pack of cigarettes—Pall Malls, he snorts; ain't even go’ Marlboros in this shithole. 

When you ask why he doesn't care to know your name, he snorts in way that rankles down your spine. Like it's obvious. Like you know the answer. But—derisively, droll—his eyes slant in your direction over the console of the old truck that sputters down the barren dirt road, drenched in something you can't name. Shouldn't name, maybe. Shouldn't think about. Shouldn't acknowledge.

"Dogs don't get to name themselves, do they?"

No, you think, settling back into the seat, mind reeling. Spinning in circles as he tosses the pack into your lap, grunting at you again to get ‘im one. Make yourself useful. 

As he drags you further and further out to the middle of the prairies, where the thick tussocks of grass away in the breeze like waves lapping over the surface of the rugged sea, you think of your mother and what she used to say about men.

(do you really think any of them want anything good with a girl like you?—)

Your fingers dig into the seat as your mind sputters like the old truck, spinning uncatchable thoughts of dogs and men.

Don't get to name themselves. Don't want anything good with a girl like you.

You suppose they don't. 

(You don't get it until you do. 

But that comes later. 

What comes first is a box.)

[ladymercysletters]

Higher - Prologue #1: an Aemond Targaryen Series

Synopsis: Y/N Targaryen is the daughter of Rhaenerya Targaryen. Her parentage is disputed though unlike her younger brothers hers is not certain. Whilst they all share the same dark curls of Harwin Strong; Y/N shares her mother’s platinum with a dark streak running the underside of it. There are some, like Queen Alicent, who take this as a sign that her true father is obviously also Harwin Strong – Rhaenerya just getting extremely lucky that most of your hair was white. Others, including you mother, point out Laenors mothers, Rhaenys Velaryons, dark Baratheon hair, and that it obviously comes from there. But wherever your true blood lies you’ve always felt more dragon than anything else.

Word Count: 2,298

Rating (per chapter): none

A/N: Prologue is set when Aemond and reader are young. As I can neither remember, nor care to double check, I'm saying they're around 14 ish. If some of the timelines don't quite match up, does it really matter.

You had no idea where your mother was. Somewhere in the castle most likely; and your father? Which one? By right or rule of birth your father Laenor was nowhere to be found. You could hazard a guess that he was with his Lannister knight. They seemed good friends and you often saw them together. By blood or a guess Harwin Strong of the Kings Guard was teaching your brothers to defend themselves from their uncles, Aegon and Aemond in the training yard; and Daemon, you didn’t have the faintest idea. You rarely saw him and hadn’t seen him since his arrival with his family that morning.

Sitting in a stone alcove overlooking the training yard you pondered your newest sibling. Your mother was due to give birth in but a few days if she held on, and you truly hoped this one would be a girl. Not that you didn’t love your brothers, but boys could be so mean. You looked out of the window and saw how Aegon was mean to his brother Aemond, and goaded your own brothers to join in.

It wasn’t long since being here that you barely recognised them as they picked and taunted your youngest uncle like crows. Helaena had so much more of a sweet temper, and she truly felt like a sister to you when she was there, but she was barely ever there; in the room, on the same plain of existence as anyone else.  

Harwin never made his favouritism more obvious than when they were sparing. Even the lightest blow and he was pushing the two Targaryen princes from Jace and Lucerys and berating them. He was even protective of you on occasion but never as much as the boys; just about everything involving you was in half measures compared to your brothers.

You wandered down to the training yard, sick of being by yourself. You almost made it there before Aemond came running down the corridor at you, pushing past just to duck into a room and lock the bolt with a thud. You spun back around to see the main of Aegon’s wavy hair glowing around his head from the light behind him.

“What have you done this time!” you barked, squaring up to your eldest uncle despite your difference in height. Your brothers were behind him, giggling to themselves like a pack of hyenas.

“Just a laugh, niece. Nothing more than a joke. Only some are not yet man enough to take it.” He finished with a shout down the corridor. They all moved past you, bowling down the dimly lit tunnel to the Keep, they obviously didn’t see where he went. As soon as you knew they were out of sight you walked slowly over to the locked door and tapped.

“Aemond. Its me.” You called quietly through the cracks. “They’ve gone. Can you let me in?” You could hear his sniffs get closer as the door unbolted; cracking open just an inch so you could squeeze through. Pulling your gilded blue dress through the small frame you were met with your uncles red nose and pinked cheeks. “Oh Aemond” you began before he cut you off.

“I’m fine. Its fine.” He started, turning to walk back into the room, facing away from you. Even from your short glace you could see both of his eyes were bloodshot. You pulled your small handkerchief from your sleeve and draped it over his shoulder. This caught his attention, and he turned to find you not so subtly looking up at the ceiling and the tall beams that held it up, just so he was sure you couldn’t see his tears fall.

You sat in silence for a while. You often did, both of you finding it comforting just the two of you, not saying anything; but no one needed to. Eventually you both found yourselves sitting intertwined on the small bench at the end of the room. Your legs were placed over his, his head on your shoulder and yours resting over his; both your hands played with the others.

“I heard mother the other day.” Aemond started. “She was begging father not to betroth Helaena to Aegon. He says it is a good match to keep our blood pure.” His voice was small, and you could almost hear a question in it.

“Poor Helaena” was all you could mutter. And poor her you felt. You were both almost of age and you knew your mother and father had already discussed your future, to some extent at least. “Poor Aegon as well”

“Why poor Aegon?”

“Well, I don’t suppose he wants to marry Helaena any more than she would him.” stroking the back of Aemond’s hand. He huffed but accepted your answer. He sat up a bit and you switched with him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Aemond looked down at you. His hand reached around and fondled with your hair, the silver strands rolled back in small braids from your face, he felt around until he found the little patch of dark hair. He liked to play with that bit the most; perhaps it was because that was what they always teased you about, how even if they were bastards at least they knew who their father was, whereas you could be anybody’s! It wasn’t usually your brothers saying that, just Aegon. But he knew how to spin it to make them laugh at you as well.

Aemond sighed to himself as you relaxed against him. You’d been in the glorified cupboard a while now and he was sure they’d forgotten their search for him and moved on, but he didn’t want to move; not when he could hear you talking about something he feels he really should be paying attention to.

“… from the Reach, and the Riverlands, but she says I don’t have to think about my betrothal until I’m at least seven and ten years old. She says grandsire made her tour at fifteen and she hated it!”

“Betrothal?” Aemond blurted, sitting bolt upright and nearly knocking Y/N from her resting place “to whom?” he cried.

“Well, no-one yet. That’s the point.” You looked up at him and smiled. Aemond’s insides clenched when you did.

“Well don’t.” he said, matter-of-factly. To be honest he didn’t know what else to say. He was suddenly hit with the thought that you wouldn’t always be with him, around him, and he couldn’t stand it. Tears welled up suddenly in his eyes and he pulled out your hanky again to stop the tears.

You reached up to pull his hand from his face, tutting lightly as you saw his watery eyes. Taking the hanky from his hands you gripped them as you dabbed at his eyes.

“Okay” you murmured, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. Aemond’s eyes widened at your action, his face flushing. You settled back against him in another comfortable silence, this time with a strange sort of certainty in your future.

**

A week later and you were still in Kings Landing. Not that you minded, but your mother had still not birthed and the maesters were beginning to get worried. Your father/s were more present, you noted, each one also becoming slightly more concerned at the late hour of this pregnancy.

You were sat with Helaena and the Queen, embroidering a handkerchief with a small silver dragon when Aegon came bowling in, followed by Lucerys.

“Mother! Ladies” he bowed comically. The Queen rolled her eyes but said nothing, drawing her attention back to her tapestry. “What do we have here then niece.” He said, lying sloppily next to you, grabbing the soft cotton from your hands.

“Give it back Aegon.” You snapped quietly, reaching out for it.

“Ah ah ah” he tutted. “Don’t snatch niece.” That irked you more. He always called you niece to belittle you, despite you being closer in age than his own half-sister. The Queen looked over the two of you, watching as her eldest son loomed over you teasing. Becoming bored of her tapestry she set it down beside her and left, never one to entertain her children for too long.

Aegon looked over the work in his hand, the corners of his mouth turning down as he was impressed with the small delicate stitches and beading that caught the light. “Why not make it gold niece.” He said finally, throwing the cloth back in you lap as he stood. “to match my glorious Sunfyre.” He smirked down at you before sauntering out again.

“A green bead. A blue bead. A green bead. A blue bead.” You turned to see Helaena muttering softly into her work. She wasn’t beading; you thought. Just sewing golden thread into the wings of her beetles.

**

At dinner that evening your mother was absent again. You almost requested you meal to be brought to your room but the Queen had insisted you eat with your brothers and her children. Silently you all sat, heads staying down after your prayer. Then you heard a noise. A snorting. Grunt.

Aemond stiffened beside you. Your eyes flickered to watch him before darting over the table at your brothers, each of them giggling between themselves. You looked over to Aegon – he was smirking.

“Jacerys” you scolded quietly, glaring daggers at him to get him to stop.

“What. Sister I am not doing anything.” He smirked. The Queen interjected.

“Velaryons. I hear your mother is in her labours.” She breathed. Setting her cutlery down. “That is good news is it not. After so long I’m sure you will all be glad to greet your new sibling.”

“Very much so, your grace.” Your eldest brother said politely, turning to her.

“I’m sure you are all looking forward to going home.” You could tell by the way she sighed as she said it, she was just looking forward to you leaving. Aemond looked over to you as you caught his eye, both of you silently sad that you would be leaving again in the not-too-distant future. “Y/N” she broke once more, grabbing your attention “You will no doubt be keen to return home” she smiled rigidly.

“Why is that?” you asked slowly, stuttering over the words in confusion.

“Well, I’m sure when your mother is well recovered you will need to prepare for your coming out. My husband tells me he has already received ravens enquiring when you are to tour for a husband. I’m sure your mother will want to prepare you herself.” She said curtly.

“Oh. I suppose so.” You said meekly. You knew your mother had received ravens, but to hear your grand-sire had also been in receipt of them made you fear he would use you as a bartering tool.

“I wouldn’t worry niece.” Aegon broke the silence, sensing your nervousness. Everyone looked up to him, surprised at his concern. “If you do manage to receive a decent proposal, the poor sod will have to first work out which father to ask! Ha!” he slapped his knee in jest at his fine joke.

“Aegon!” the Queen snapped. Aemond stood bolt upright next to you, knife gripped in his hand by his side as he stared down at his brother. Aegon laughed

“What are you going to do with that brother?” he questioned laughing. “Carve me up and eat me?”

“Show some respect brother.” Aemond muttered through gritted teeth. His eyes rolling over your brothers sat next to his own; dismayed that neither of them stood to defend you. Aegon scoffed but said nothing; kicking his feet from the ground as he stood, bidding his mother goodnight as he left.

You placed a small hand on Aemond’s wrist that held the knife. He seated himself back down next to you, placing the knife on the table as he whispered a small apology to you.

“There is nothing to be sorry for. Thank you.” You whispered back, hand not leaving his. You suddenly felt the Queens eyes boring into you and moved your hand swiftly from her son.

**

You wept quietly as you packed your trunk. Your mother had birthed your newest brother a week ago. Another brown-haired boy: and now you were set to leave again for Driftmark. You had sent the maids away, content to pack your belongings yourself in silence. Folding up some of your stockings you pushed them down into the corner of the trunk, sniffing deeply.

A low rumbling took your attention from the ground and you looked over your shoulder to the bookshelf in the corner of your room moving across the floor.

“Aemond!” you gasped, seeing your uncle emerge from the secret passageway. You ran across the room to embrace him. Since your departure had been announced you had not seen much of him; his mother keeping him away any time you asked after him – insisting that he was in his studies and must not be disturbed. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he buried his head in your neck, breathing in deeply.

“Y/N. You are leaving today?” he muttered

“Yes. Shortly. I just need to finish packing.” You drew back from him but did not release your arms.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to leave either.” You sniffed. Fresh tears willing in your eyes. “I hate boats.” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“I brought you a book. For the journey.” You took the small book he produced from his back pocket and looked it over. As you turned it a small letter fell from between the pages. Aemond gasped and swiftly scooped it from the floor, pushing it back between the pages. “Don’t look at that until you have left. Promise.” He said blushing.

“promise.” You smiled.

[presleyslilbaby]

~Dig Into Me~

(50’s!Elvis X Reader)

(TW: Oral sex, gagging, crude language, slight hair pulling, use of Daddy in a sexual way-)

Reader and Elvis go to a drive-in theatre, but things started to get hot in the backseat.

“Elvis, are you paying attention?” Y/n asked a rather distracted Elvis whom in which was twisting and turning the ring on his pinky this way and that, his Blue orbs locked in on the sight of her chest. “Yeah, Baby. ‘M payin’ attention.” He lied, his plumped Pink lips parting as his gaze remained exactly where it was. Y/n cocked a brow before shaking her head, deciding to simply focus on the movie herself and hope that he’d eventually follow suit. It was silent between the two for a few moments, not a single peep being made. Then- “How’d you get such perfect tits?” Elvis suddenly asked, drawing her attention away from the movie in confusion. “What?” She asked. “Your tits. They’re gorgeous. Can I see ‘em?” Y/n was taken aback by just how brazen he had been, blinking a few times as she processed his request. “…Pardon…?” “Baby, I don’t know how I can be more obvious ‘bout this.” He says. “I’m askin’ ya’ to show me your tits. Usually that involves you giving me an answer.” She thought for a second, the blood rushing up to her cheeks in a wonderful Pink flush. “Well…” She started, biting her lower lip. “I guess I can show you.” Y/n agreed, her fingers curling around the hem of her shirt. Pulling upwards, she discards it in a matter of seconds, revealing the tantalising shape of her beautiful round breasts, already on their way to becoming stiffened peaks. “Fuck…No bra, Y/n? Hot damn, you wanted me to do this.” Elvis murmured hotly, licking his lips at he stared at her perfect globes. He leant forwards, kissing her neck tenderly as his hands found their way to their prize, squeezing her breasts gently. “Mm…” Y/n hummed, closing her eyes as she allowed him to lead her wherever he wanted. Elvis was in control. His tongue peeked out from behind his lips, licking a stripe over her throat as he pinched her sensitive nipples, listening to her whimper in pleasure. “You already makin’ noise? I’ve barely done anythin’.” He teased, kissing down her throat to her collarbone, then finally one of her breasts. He took her nipple into his mouth, sucking and allowing his teeth to gently close around the pebbled area, tugging slightly. “Elvis…” She whispers his name, adjusting herself where she sat. Elvis pulled back, feeling himself growing harder in his pants the longer he thought about how sexy she’d look giving him head. So much harder. “You wanna please me?” He asked, tilting her chin up with his index finger and thumb. Y/n nodded. “Yes…” Undoing his belt, Elvis held eye contact with her as he then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, fishing around for a second to pull out his semi-hardened dick, stroking himself so softly and with purpose. “You gonna be a good Girl and suck me?” He coaxed again. “Yes…Oh, yes…” She replies. He grunted in acknowledgement of her answer, working himself until fully hard. “You best get workin’ that pretty li’l mouth o’ yours, then.” Y/n barely hesitates, if not hesitating at all, before she dipped her head downwards towards his lap, opening her mouth slightly and allowing her saliva to drip from his tip, all the way down to the base of his shaft. Before long, she’s already sucking at the head of his cock, hands resting on his thighs as she slowly eased downwards, taking in more of him. Y/n begins to bob her head up-and-down, slowly at first, then gaining enough speed to allow Elvis to truly feel what he wanted. “Ooh, Y/n Baby…What a lovely li’l cock-sucker you are…” He praises, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as a large hand found its way to her hair, gently gripping. Steadily, he began to roll his hips in time with her sexy little mouth, his grip on her hair tightening over time, feeling the pleasure heighten. “Mmm…Oh yeah, Baby…Suck Daddy just like that…Fuck you do it so good…” Elvis thrusted particularly deep into her mouth, feeling her throat tighten as she sputtered around his length, gagging. It felt heavenly. “Sh-Shit- Gag on me like that again-“ He groaned, tugging on Y/n’s hair to get her to do as he says.

She obeyed despite the stinging in her eyes, forcing his cock down her throat to gag over him once again, and again. He groaned in delight, forcing her to keep bobbing her head, thrusting into her mouth at the same time. “You’re gonna make Daddy cum…You want that?” He asked. She glances up at him with less-than-innocent eyes, her look saying everything for her when she was taking heaping mouthfuls of his throbbing cock. “I ain’t ever cum this quick. Shit…” Elvis groaned and groaned, louder and louder, feeling that familiar searing heat pooling in his lower abdomen. “Gonna cum…Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum-“ He muttered pleasurably, his eyes screwed shut in pure pleasure. Finally, he felt something snap inside him, his hips rutting forwards as deep into Y/n’s mouth, her throat as he possibly could, gripping her hair with both hands as thick ropes of hot, sticky seed filled up her mouth. “Take it-! Take it for Daddy-!” He had groaned out rather loudly, taking a few moments after orgasm to pull out his actively softening shaft. Elvis looked at Y/n and all her beauty, seeing how his own cum dripped down her chin as she tried to swallow every drop of his essence, his heart racing as he scooped up some of himself with his thumb, bringing it up to his lips to taste. “You make me wanna cum again.”

~

My very first smut-filled-story! Publicly, at least- I hope it wasn’t too awkward or rushed, but I’ve been thinking about this one for so long I knew I just HAD to make it.

[intrusive-thought-library]

Revenge for stealing the last pickled onion from her lunch box in 5th grade

[hikayunas]

🐎🐅

[gumy-shark]

i think the dnd character i played for a halloween oneshot a few weeks ago is one of my favorite characters ive made recently. and her name was fucking paige

[blakelywintersfield]

Cat fights don't happen in the UK. And FIV magically doesn't exist in the UK either. There's 0 likelihood of there being anything poisonous that a cat can get into in the UK too. It's just a magical land completely immune of consequence.

talking to outdoor cat defenders like

[teenangstenthusiast]

i think a lot abt how the first time shiv thought tom was flirting with nia dayton she had a problem with it because "come on, she's like a real person, tom" bc she doesnt want to end up losing him to another person she could actually percieve as like, legitimate or a threat .

[sukunasweetheart]

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna...

warnings!!! dark content, noncon breeding, dubcon, sukuna ties your hands together, baby trapping, toxic, possessive and jealous sukuna, manipulative tendencies and mentions of violence (not towards reader), oral (f!receiving)

divider by @/saradika-graphics

3.8k words

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who'd always coax you into fucking him bareback without a condom because he swears it feels better...

being so sweet, seducing you into letting him hit it raw, doing whatever it takes to put you in a good mood, get you hot and bothered so you can't deny him for long, swearing that he'd pull out, and that you'd have nothing to worry about...

but scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who never kept his word. he'd fuck you silly and cum deep into your womb, even though he promised he wouldn't. you wanted to stop him, but you were feeling too good in the moment to fight him off. when you confront him about it afterwards, he simply tells you "my bad, sweetheart. i didn't mean to, but you just felt too good..."

he gets high off the feeling of cumming inside you.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who secretly wished he could fuck you pregnant with his seed. but you told him you didn't want a baby, which he disappoints him, though he may not show it. he wants to see your belly swell up with his child, and to suck on your sweet milk when your tits start leaking. fuck, just the thought of it had made him get hard.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who didn't take you seriously when you broke it off with him. you could see it in his eyes sometimes, the way he seemed eerily quiet when your pregnancy tests turned out with only one line. you felt glad you'd taken those birth control pills behind his back. but you decided enough was enough. you loved him, but you just didn't want to have a child with him.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who didn't even seem phased by the break up. he believed he could coax you back to him again, given with some time. you are his, and nothing will change that. when he sees you around, he shamelessly flirts with you and tries to convince you to come back to him, telling you that he misses you dearly. there are times when he almost succeeds, only because you do miss him sometimes too.

a few weeks into the break up, you truthfully, begin to feel a little sexually frustrated. you don't recall having such a high sex drive before getting with sukuna, but he seems to have permanently altered your body, the way he used to pleasure you so good...

you gather some friends and head into a club, and try to forget about him.

at the club, you re-familiarise yourself with the smell of alcohol in the air, the music that hurts your eardrums, and the crowd of people all around you, wherever you went. it's been a while since you've been here, because you had been with sukuna for over two years now.

an hour or two passes, and you've gotten yourself fairly tipsy at the bar now.

you sync yourself up with the music, but a familiar figure catches your attention from the second floor of the club, afar. it's sukuna. but he's not looking at you.

he's standing with his ex-girlfriend - the one that had gotten hysterical with you after she'd found out about your relationship with him. your mood plummets, for some reason.

you're the one that broke up with him. it shouldn't matter what he's up to after that. liar. you told me you missed me. you try to ignore him, and continue drinking yourself drunk, the edges of your vision already swimming.

sukuna's at the club, only because a friend of his snitched on you and told him that you were out here somewhere. he didn't think he'd meet yorozu, out of everyone it could've been.

"hi, ryo. i heard you'd finally broken up with that girl?" she asks sweetly, standing as close to him as possible.

sukuna gives her a deadpan stare.

"broken up? says who?"

"well, everyone. don't tell me you're pathetically clinging onto her now? that's not like you."

"i'm not you. now get lost, i'm busy."

yorozu grabs his hand, stopping him from walking away.

"wait! i just wanna tell you..."

she continues talking, but his attention has already drifted elsewhere, as his eyes pan toward the crowd downstairs. now...where are you? when he does manage to find you in the crowd downstairs, he doesn't like what he sees. that's an understatement. he hates it.

you're swaying your hips with some other bastard, making out with him on the dance floor.

"damn- you're so fuckin' hot," the stranger chuckles against the shell of your ear, your arms around his neck.

"am i really?" you respond giggling, clearly intoxicated.

"yeah, you are... why don't you come home with me?"

"hmmm? sure, why not? 'm single now, anyway," you mumble, your feet now beginning to stumble. you're starting to miss him again.

"broke up with your boyfriend, did you? poor thing."

"i'll help you feel better." the man grins and helps you walk outside of the club.

on his way out however, he bumps into someone of a large frame. he's all tatted up, and his gaze is holding a mean glare as he stares down at him. he holds out his hand to him, like he's asking for something.

"hand her over, and i won't beat you to death."

oh. he must be the ex. that was enough for the man to quietly place your body into sukuna's arms and exit the club.

tch, he's as spineless as he looks.

sukuna handles your limp body with care, your breath pungent with the smell of alcohol. he's irritated to no end right now, and a vein is bulging from his forehead, but he safely carries you to his car.

outside, the man thinks he's clear of danger, and decides he's had enough for the night. but, someone's heavy arm comes down around his shoulders suddenly.

"hey. you're the one that played it too close with sukuna's girl? how unlucky of you," a man with a scar on his lip talks nonchalantly.

he gets dragged into a nearby alleyway.

"don't take it personally. i got paid to do this."

the man shrieks as he gets beaten to a pulp, just enough so it hurts like hell, but not enough to kill him. sukuna likes to keep his word.

meanwhile... you're taken to your own home. he found the keys to your house in your purse. sukuna tucks you into your own bed, and even dresses you into your own pajamas. and then...

he just leaves.

-

the next morning - you don't remember a thing. you're left feeling confused, wondering how you managed to get home and how you were even sober enough to get yourself dressed. the only thing you can recall is seeing sukuna with his ex, and then making out with some random guy on the dance floor. everything else is blacked out.

you ask your friends, but they were also too busy getting wasted to know what happened to you. but you feel fine physically, so you brush the incident off.

now the only thing bothering you... sukuna hasn't contacted you again ever since you witnessed him and yorozu talking. so he must've gone back to her. that makes you feel... irritated. upset. sad, even. even though you wanted to break things off first.

you slowly start getting back to your normal daily life again, although with a heavy heart. only change is, that you can't seem to find your birth control pills, wherever you last put them. you contemplate for a moment, wondering whether you should buy a new pack, but you end up shrugging it off, knowing that you won't really need them in the meantime anyway...

you're trying to get back into what life was like before you met sukuna. falling back into bad diet habits, staring at your phone, going back and forth between unblocking and blocking sukuna's number - wondering if he's texted you again in the meantime - but of course, there is nothing new.

he may have had his toxic traits, but you knew he loved you a lot... he cooked you wonderful meals and spoiled you with gifts and knew how to make you orgasm until you couldn't speak. and he was tender with you, even though he teased you a lot.

and now, you're back to using toys to satisfy yourself... it's always like this! you start thinking about him and your hand begins to wander down - you can only hope that you'll eventually lose these feelings soon.

you decide to head out and go on a shopping spree alone, to distract yourself from your thoughts and maybe lift your spirits up.

spending a lot of money for yourself always feels nice. you're buying a lot of cute clothes, accessories and food, jumping between shop to shop. the sun sets rather quickly, and by now, you're at your final stop, mulling over whether this expensive, but beautiful bracelet and necklace set is worth buying. your impulse gets the better of you and you ask for it to be packaged for you.

you reach for your wallet to pay with your card, but someone's familiar voice rings out beside you as he approaches.

"i'll pay for the set." sukuna already has his credit card out, and is handing it to the store clerk, using a tone that makes him difficult to question.

"...sukuna?" you say quizzically, his name slipping from your lips without thinking.

the clerk scans his card, and your items are already paid for.

"what are you doing here..." you ask him, with mixed feelings running around in the pit of your stomach.

"missed me?" he asks with a smirk, very naturally taking your multiple shopping bags from your hand. "i just happened to be in the area."

you're not sure if you believe him. just when you're about to ask him something again, he guides you out of the store with his hand on your shoulder.

"i thought you got back with your ex," you say, taking your bags back from his hand. "i'm sure she'll be upset if she sees you here with me."

"what? where did you get that nonsense from?" he seems genuinely confused.

"i saw you at the club, by coincidence. you were talking with her."

oh... he didn't realise you'd noticed him back there.

"oh, sweetheart... that was a coincidence. i wasn't planning on meeting her. did you really believe that i'd get back with that woman?"

you shouldn't be feeling relieved to such an extent... but your shoulders loosen up after hearing that.

"well... you stopped contacting me after i last saw you with her. of course i'd start believing it."

"oh? i thought you had my number blocked. were you anticipating my texts? you missed me, after all." sukuna leans in closer to you, smiling cockily.

you should have just kept your mouth shut...

"i'll take you home. you have a lot of luggage, no?" sukuna offers, taking your bags back from your hand.

you bite the inside of your cheek. you know you're supposed to decline here. but you let your feelings get the best of you... and end up letting him lead you to his car.

he was supposed to just quickly drop you off home.

"you have a lot of stuff. i'll help you carry it home," sukuna gave his excuse, with something more sly hiding in his eyes. you know exactly what he wants. but when he insists so strongly, you can't deny him. like the fool you are.

you unlock your door and he comes inside to put your bags down on the floor at the entrance. and as you had expected, he doesn't leave right away. instead, he looks down at you with a coy smile, while you return the gaze with a more standoffish one. the tension feels thick and heavy as neither of you speak for a moment.

"well? i'm sure you didn't let me in without knowing my intentions..." sukuna moves forward and closer to you, hands very naturally finding their way to your waist.

he leans down slowly and offers you a brief kiss, a very light and short one, like he's testing the waters. he scans your face for your response. your lips feel all tingly. and all he sees is that you're not pushing him away.

"we shouldn't..." you whisper, but your resolve is too weak. you can't tell him to go away, much less kick him out of your home.

"i know."

in truth, he doesn't really. why should he be separate from you? you belong to him. he pulls you in for a deeper kiss. and you just let it happen.

and, lord, he smells and tastes divine. there's a reason why you always forgave him despite his scummy behaviour when it came to using protection. though you ended up breaking him off, you wonder if it'll be different if you give him another chance.

he wastes no time in lifting you into his arms like you weigh nothing, and heads off to your bedroom, before you can change your mind. you comply, holding onto his strong embrace weakly, having missed this kind of treatment.

when you're laid onto your own bed, sukuna smirks again as he cages you between his arms.

"you're being so obedient. must've regretted breaking up with me-?"

pulling him in with a hand to the back of his neck, you shut him up with another demanding kiss, not letting him speak for long. sukuna groans as you slip your tongue into him, initiating something messier than what the both of you were doing before.

he's quick to unzip your skirt and side it off, along with your panties. in desperation, he doesn't take the time to fully get you naked and instead, pushes your shirt and bra up to fondle your jutting breasts. sukuna then peels his own jacket and shirt off.

"spread your legs for me, sweetheart. i'll spoil you tonight."

you part your legs slowly - and he sees that you're already glistening with slick. bringing his face down, he aims straight for your sensitive clit, wrapping his lips around it entirely. your back arches as you gasp, the warm and wet feeling being so arousing like nothing else in this world.

you feel the tip of his tongue flicker up and down your clitoris in a mesmerising rhythm - knowing exactly what you want, and need to reach your orgasm. and the way he sucks on you with the correct amount of pressure, while making the lewdest noises, forcing your hips to stutter uncontrollably against his mouth, with the way it feels so mind numbing, is just too much in its own way.

you let your erotic moans ring out, because you know he loves it when you show him how good you're feeling - and your hands can't help but hold onto his hair from the intense pleasure, which he never seem to flinch from.

the first orgasm hits you like a truck, with the way you're left breathless and gasping for air as your legs reflexively try to close up - sukuna has to hold them apart with his strong grip as he continues tonguing you even as you're cumming, your cunt thrumming against his lips.

"o-ooh- fuck-! sukuna!" you plead, your blank gaze meeting the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, hips jolting without restraint.

when he does eventually show mercy and remove his mouth from your poor aching clit, you're already on the brink of sobbing, your legs down to your toes feeling all prickly from the overstimulation. your mind is in a haze.

so much so, that you didn't realise that he had bound your wrists to the bed frame until he was already done with it.

"wha- sukuna...? why're you tying me up-?" you question, still a little out of it from your last orgasm.

"shh, love. it's not like this is the first time...relax," sukuna comforts you, caressing your face. you can't help the small uneasiness from growing in your stomach. he suddenly gives your clit a light slap. it startles you a bit, and you gasp.

"you're so pretty. do you know that?"

you see your own reflection in his ringed eyes. your heart races, and you don't know if it's because you're flustered or terrified.

"i just wanna..."

his cock aches in his pants.

he never finishes his sentence. instead, he just offers you a soft, yet sloppy kiss.

sukuna frees his erection, and sighs in relief. it's all messy and leaky with precum. he lines it up against your wet and puckering cunt. you won't deny that you want it...

"sukuna... condom..." you remind him gently, getting slightly nervous from the way he's rubbing his tip up and down your slit.

"... 'm sorry sweetheart. i don't think i can do that."

he pushes his hips in one go, and you're left gasping from the sudden intrusion. you're immediately pushed into a mating press.

sukuna groans from how he immediately feels your wet walls sucking him in, your slick making his cock glisten as he thrusts in and out. he's missed this so, so much.

"fuck- sukuna! you can't- oh my g-god..." your hands tug at your bindings as you try and resist your moans from coming out of your throat, but the way his dick satisfies your cunt is otherworldly, his tip kissing your cervix, over and over again.

"that's it, baby... just enjoy yourself," he urges you on, getting breathless from his own fast pace, cock pulsating inside of you in excitement. god, you always drive him crazy.

still, in the back of your mind you still have a sliver of trust in this man. foolishly so. surely he'll pull out at the last second. surely he won't cum inside you in this situation. it's been a while since you stopped being on the pill.

your bed creaks from how roughly sukuna pounds your pussy, all while groaning with such shamelessness, only caring about the pleasure that is found from the warmth and wetness of your puckering hole.

"fuuck... fuck! to think you were gonna let some other bastard do this to you..." he growls under his breath, brows furrowing. you don't hear him. he remembers his original motive for all of this. to remind you who you truly belonged to.

"ooh-! sukuna! you're being too rough..." you whine, feeling the pressure of an incoming orgasm already building in your abdomen.

he only grips your hips harder, looking down at you with a toothy smile. his dick aches so badly. he's endured through so much patience just for this moment.

your mind goes blank as you forget about the fact that he's not wearing a condom, drool spilling out the side of your mouth from the pleasure you feel as his girthy dick drills in and out of you, a squelching noise happening everytime he sinks himself in. there's the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your ass. and also the friction from his pants, that he hasn't bothered to fully take off. the juices from your cunt has dampened them, but sukuna couldn't care less right now.

"sweetheart... my love... take- taking me s-so well..." sukuna groans, panting and words slurred. despite the deeply affectionate words, his hips move like an animal. you can't do anything but moan and cry.

sukuna feels himself getting high again. there's just something about you... god, he's so pussydrunk he can't even think properly. only the thought of breeding you is on his mind. make you his, completely. to see your belly get bigger from his seed... a powerful thrum goes to his cock and he shudders again.

he has to make it take, this time.

"i'm gonna cum," he tells you breathlessly, knowing you won't be able to stop him, this time around.

"sukuna!... wait," you protest, weakly tugging at your binds again, but you can't say anything more than that, as his lips come down onto yours, silencing you effectively. he tongue kisses you roughly, desperate and messy as you can feel his laboured breaths on you.

and the final thrust that he gives, where he pushes his dick in so deeply, tip meeting your cervix, sends you into another trembling orgasm. sukuna groans deeply against your mouth as he cums, hips stuttering against yours, eyes shut tightly as he savours you completely. you take your lips off of his, and try to say, "stop...! no- pull out," but he stops you with another kiss.

you sob, because it's over. but you're also sobbing because it feels so good.

sukuna's deep kiss trails down to the crook of your neck.

"you can't tell me to pull out... when your cunt is... seducing my cock like this..." he shivers between phrases, mumbling against your neck, mind all hazy from the way you pulse around him from your orgasm, milking his dick as spurt after spurt of his seed shoots straight into your womb.

you can't even say anything back to him - you're coming off your high as he empties his balls into you, letting out more than usual. you're done for.

"i hate you," you sob.

"i know you don't really mean that. you can't live without me," sukuna tells you, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead afterwards.

"and the same applies to me. i'll never let anyone else have you."

he begins to litter kisses down again, until he reaches your chest, while his cock is still inside you. his soft lips caress your tits, and then he begins to lather his tongue around your stiffened nipples, making you feel good again, even through the tears.

the night is far from over.

sukuna becomes much more gentle and soft after the first time, opting for slower but deeper thrusts this time around, adding plenty of little kisses in between as well, "loving" you with everything he has. you have no choice but to accept all of him, as he cums inside of you over and over again.

his cock is in its own haven, being trapped in your gummy walls without rest. and at some point, sukuna's even released your wrists, and now you're willingly making love to him with your arms around his neck, coping with the thought that resisting doesn't even matter anymore - it's already too late, and you're tired of trying to fight back.

you can't count how many times he's dumped his load into you, how many times he's said "i can't get enough of you," how many times you've kissed him back when he kisses you.

and when he finally does eventually pull out, his semen oozes out of you in a disgusting amount. you're spent, and completely exhausted. you can't help your heavy eyelids from closing up, and the last thing you hear is his soft voice.

"goodnight, sweetheart. i'll take care of everything, from now on. i promise."

he holds you so closely and lovingly that you believe him.

Masterlist

[cl-0v3r]

Mel is alive, but at what cost

Mel was nearly killed TWICE, her mother began being a struggle, she'd been thrown aside and trying her best to stop her, her boyfriend is not doing well, neither is anyone else (can't blame them) and the fact that she hadn't cried or spoke much about this situation to anyone a single time?? She IS upset about every single thing, yet she stays strong and enduring every bit of torture. The most she did was tell Jayce that Ambessa put her palm on the table, and let him know that she is going to push for hextech. That's it, nothing remotely related to her feelings.

The fact that she was constantly looking at Caitlyn, being able to understand her grief and knew she was in pain?? Mel knows this feeling. She'd went through it.

And in the end SHE has to pay the price of her mothers incompetence.

The intro is very much foreshadowing, we know the hands represent black rose/LeBlanc.

This is what happens in act one, she gets kidnapped by them. The lyrics do correspond to the characters as well (not just Mel, everyone.)

"Tell you you're the greatest" plays as a petal of the black rose floats down the screen, I think it adds significance to the power this organization holds, possibly the Medardas greatest foe.

"But once you turn, they hate us" both Ambessa and Mel were present in this line, I think its foreshadowing for when Ambessa switches up for whatever reason and goes against both Piltover AND Zaun. And Mel WILL go through change as well, a change that could hurt her relationship with others, and receive interest from others too.

"They hate us" could be read individually too, I feel like its a sort of "realization" ?? Perhaps Ambessa WASN'T the one that switched up, maybe Piltover switched up on them, and maybe Mel JUST got out of wherever she's taken to, and saw the mess Ambessa had done to her city??

I think this represents ACT TWO.

The hands pull away and it sort of looks like Mel is fighting back, a "get away from me" type of scream. you know what this reminds me of??

Don't mind me just pushing my Jinx/powder-Mel parallel agenda

Here is when i think Mel truly learns about LeBlanc/BR, she curiously and slowly goes to grab the rose, she learns about the history between her Mother and them, Kinos death, and most of all, learns about HERSELF. The lyrics speak otherwise.

"Pray away, I swear

I'll never be a saint, no way"

This feels like a parallel to caitlyn of sorts if that makes sense. Caitlyn had done everything to try and stop the council from attacking the Undercity, she kept her mouth shut when Jayce asked about Jinxs grenade, she was willing to protect Vi and the undercity, but how many times has she been tossed around? She'd been burned, exploded, kidnapped (god knows what happened during that time) and hit in the face by the same person, her MOTHER died because of the same person. She has every right to go insane. And she is hunting ONE person, which is Jinx. Although she is harming the people around her along the way.

What if Mel goes through a similar situation? Her mother pushed for war in her city, she dragged the enemy along with her even if she didn't mean to, she manipulated everyone around her INCLUDING Jayce, she LITERALLY got Mel hurt from the chembarons attack and killed so many people during a MEMORIAL to get her hextech weapons, Elora is most likely DEAD, not to mention whatever happened in the past between them. And the thing is, this will NEVER end throughout the entire season.

And what if she learns what she is? That she's 'blessed' by Kindred? The fact that the wolf is quite literally in her blood?

I feel like the "ill never be a saint, no way" also sort of indicates Mel will realize she'll never be able to push for peace and mercy like she always hoped for no matter what, and she comes to accept that as much as it hurts. But not like how ambessa accepted the wolf, but she sort of realizes she needs to push a little violence, towards nobody but the one and only, Ambessa "fine, if you want me to be like you, I guess I'll be like you towards YOU." Type of acceptance.

I think its also related to Mels new outfit too, she's dressed like her mother, in red and all of that. I will still stand by the idea that she has plans to decieve, but she will do something she doesn't want to do.

Mel was left with no choice, that lyric sounds like realization, acceptance, but also like a plea at the same time, an "I'll never be who I wanted to be" because in the end, she's still a Medarda, she's still her mothers daughter, she still has violence in her veins, she will never not suffer from the weight her name holds, and she will never escape it either, its like a shadow.

The Characters won't be themselves at their core this season. And those vital parts of their characters that represent them are no longer there in the intro, they all have given up what makes them, THEM design wise. (e.g.) Vi without her tattoo, Viktor hiding his identity with the mask. And the thing is, they did that to themselves because they do self-harm, they're changing themselves because THEY want to, they're forcing themselves to do that, they think they're undeserving and they're erasing their past selves.

But Mel? Mel doesn't have her gold accessories, Jewelry, or her Armor, she'd been stripped bare and hidden away because of the brutality of her name. She pays the price her mother brought to HER city. She's forced to change herself against her will, because nobody is giving her a chance to push for her ideals.

This entire theory never ends, and with all of this? I kinda do see Mel actually committing Matricide, it lifts the "Ambessa will die" theory further.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[temis-de-leon]

Pick me girls and OM! Brothers - Part 1

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)

Part 2 - Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)

Part 3 - Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Masterlist

CW: pick me girl behavior, suggestive, mentions of sex between the brothers and mc, mentions of violence, a bit of magic, mentions of cheating (not actual cheating), mammon and mc taking a shower together, jealous mc, some fluff, some hurt, some comfort, kinda ooc but i had so much fun with this

.

Lucifer

Wherever you went, rumor followed. Haven't you heard? The mighty Lord of Pride has a significant other. Who could it be? Maybe the prince or his butler? Both of them? Or perhaps it was just some random demon? Surely not the human... right?

"Of course not!" said the witch, surrounded by both curious and jealous nobles.

You weren't in the balcony, but you could still hear the conversation in your spot near the open door. You could also hear the gasps and the murmurs. It was ridiculous.

What to do next? You could interrupt the gossip and make your relationship public; after all, it was only a matter of time before someone spotted you both in Ristorante Six or an empty hallway in RAD.

Ignoring them was the better option, however. No words sounded aggressive and yet polite enough to get the witch to shut up without making a scene. Plus, Lucifer was looking exquisitely fine that night. His wings did wonders to his appearance.

"Then who?" the voices asked while you walked away towards your boyfriend.

"Well, I wasn't supposed to say anything..."

Oh no she did not.

"But we're just so in love"

I'll be damned, you thought. She did.

The wrath you felt was primal and it provoked a worried glance from Satan, who was chatting with one of his many contacts in the other side of the ballroom.

You wanted to make an entrance, a dramatic one, but you could only watch as the witch talked and talked about her supposed first date with Lucifer, their first kiss, their first time, his performance in bed (which... No. She was so wrong about that one).

Finally, you opened your mouth.

"You don't say?"

But that wasn't your voice.

Beside you stood Lucifer in all his glory, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes and a hand hugging your waist. The floor trembled under your feet as he walked and, if it wasn't for his tight grip, the magic induced vertigo would've send you to the ground.

You could tell he was trying not to harm you too much, but the group in the balcony wasn't so lucky. All of them were on their knees and some even coughing blood.

"Do tell all your stories tonight, by dawn you'll have no tongue to keep lying"

The witch had tears in her eyes, too focused on her own pain to be aware of her surroundings or his words. Was he being serious? You wanted to ask what would really happen to that woman, but Lucifer was always two steps ahead.

He cradled your face and kissed you, slowly yet firm. His cold skin felt good against yours, already blushing under his half lidded eyes.

"Dance with me?" he asked, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb.

Damn, did he know how to distract you.

Mammon

"You're dating the Great Mammon!" he'd said with his characteristic smile, both of you eating ramen in your bed while watching bad romcoms "That's something to be stoked about! You need to tell everyone about it!"

Of course, that translated to: please, please, please, I need people to know that I bagged YOU and YOU chose ME.

So, there you were, chatting with his makeup stylist and some other models while he posed in front of the camera. It was better than you expected, actually. You thought the fashion world in the Devildom would be full of self righteous assholes and insufferable divas, but you couldn't be more wrong.

Well, of course, there's always an exception.

There was a demoness in the other side of the studio, taking selfies with a pout in her lips and a fake, nauseating, innocence in her expression. She looked toxic from a mile away.

And yet, your boyfriend dated her for three months; three long and excruciating months, yes, but still. They'd dated.

And you were cool with that. So so cool with that. You were chill. A freezer, even. You loved Mammon and everyone and their mother could tell Mammon loved you. Everything was fine.

Except... well...

It was easy to forget the brothers were famous and popular bachelors, princes of hell, that, just like in every human monarchy, had fans to spare. People that would support them no matter what they did and no matter who they dated and people that would hate everyone they dated because... You don't really know why.

You just had some haters.

And this bitch was taking advantage of this, you knew it in your heart.

Rumors of Mammon cheating on you with one of his model coworkers had been there since the beginning of your relationship. It was something you just had to live with, one of the reasons the Avatar of Greed doted on you with everything he had.

Mammon loved you.

So why did you panick so much when he stood up in the underwear he was advertising, getting ready for the next picture, and the demoness took a selfie of her lips with his half naked body behind her?

"That whore" whispered another model behind you. You liked them.

But it was okay, you didn't mind. No, really. You didn't.

Except you did.

And so did Mammon.

"Oi!"

Everyone looked at him and you could swear his demon form was starting to show, blending with his siluette in blurred edges.

"Delete that"

She could've laughed at him, like everyone tended to do. She could've ignored him and tempt fate, but it was not a wise idea.

There was static in the air, black mist barely clouding your vision and a faint voice whispering in the back of your brain. The sound of feathers filled the room and soon crows started to surround the studio outside the window.

After a couple of sickening minutes, a loud pop settled the place back to normal and caused the birds to fly away.

The demoness gasped, letting her DDD fall to the ground like it burned her. Looking at her smoking hands, it probably did.

After that, everyone acted like nothing happened. You, however? Your whole body was buzzing, leaving you paralyzed with feelings you needed to explore in the future and making Mammon look at you with a knowing smile.

"...sick of those rumors..." he'd say hours later while he washed your hair in the shower "and you dumbass humans believe everything you see, even if it's stupid"

He'd wait until you were both in bed, ruminating about every little thing that happened back there before talking again.

"Because it's stupid, you know? I'd never cheat on ya. The Great Mammon would never do that to you. I mean, I'd never to that anyway, but specially not to you. Keep that in mind, human! You catched the best demon of all hell! Lucky you!"

Lucky me, he wanted to say instead.

You understood him anyways.

Leviathan

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu sent you a message!

.

.

You stared at the screen and the screen stared back at you.

Reading the user name physically hurt you and you'd lie if you said you weren't worried about it. Did you trust Levi? Yes, absolutely. Did you trust f3istyk1ttenuwu? Not really, no.

So (this time voluntarily), you opened the gates of hell.

It was the Devildom version of Discord, which was worrying enough, and the user's pfp showed a cute pinked hair girl with dainty horns and half of her boobs out.

With a frown and your heartbeat in your throat, you opened the chatroom.

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: r u lone?

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: did ur frend leef?

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: their a party pooper

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: didnt let u join the grp

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: :(

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: leviachsn?

.

Oh, heeeeell no.

First of all, it was leviachAn. Second, YOU were the only one who could call him THAT.

Ignoring the voice of reason, you checked the door before investigating the previous messages. Levi was in your room, retrieving your nightwear as punishment for not letting you win in Devil Kart YET AGAIN, so, knowing how flustered he got everytime he saw you in the Ruri Chan's inspired piyamas he got you for your birthday, you were sure you had another couple of minutes alone in his room.

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: thx 4 sving me !!

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: we shld team more

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: were zo good 2gether

wEre Zo gOoD 2gETheR

You couldn't help but mock her in the privacy of your mind. Did she think writing like a 10 year old was attractive? If so, what the fuck?

@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: call? brke my pc & cn't fix it alone \(-o-)/

"Call a fucking tech" you whispered to yourself.

"Henry?"

Fuck.

You turned around like a deer in headlights. Levi's cheeks still wore a furious red, but he remained quiet at the door when he saw you snooping through his private conversations.

Fuck it, you thought after some uncomfortable seconds. If someone could understand jealousy, it would be him.

"Who's this girl?"

Levi frowned and got closer to you, leaning over your shoulder to see his computer, probably giving you the closeness he'd crave if he was in your place.

"Oh, I don't know" his final answer disappointed you "Some girl the others wanted in the party"

But why was she talking to him like that?

"And why is she talking to you like that?"

He shrugged his shoulders, knowing that both of you knew the answer. Then, he straightened like he had an epiphany, and looked at you with shining eyes and a smile too big for his face.

"Are you jealous, MC?"

Levi jumped in happiness before you could say anything, unable to truly express how happy he was upon his sin affecting you.

"My Henry is jealous!! Because of a yucky disgusting otaku like me!! This reminds me of that anime: 'Help?! My crush snooped through my pc and now they're jealous because someone else is flirting with me??'"

It was obvious by now you had nothing to worry about, so you let him be. You let him appreciate how much you loved him.

In the end, you had to shower his face in kisses to shut him up and, for great measure, you also changed into that extra large Ruri Chan t-shirt in front of him.

Hours later, both of you were sweating in the comfort of his bathtub and Levi was completely sure you fell asleep.

And if you saw how he offered himself to fix this girl's computer only to hack her camera and post her real face all around the internet, no you didn't.

Tagging them lovely people: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin

Hope you like it!

[jinxificada]

leave it to her.

troublemaker!jinx x people pleaser!reader

summary: for once, you were taken care of.

notes: nsfw, modern au, wc 2,7k. no proofread. Heh, this is for my bottoms out there !! might change the title lmao..

ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺

never, in a million years, you would’ve thought that you’d see jinx crying. definitely not in such a… helpless way.

you were on your way to have lunch at the greenery of the campus, if you were lucky you’d find a nice spot under a tree, but the soft grass under the sun would suffice too. you had a red, juicy apple in hand, a novel in the other and your pretty purse on your shoulder. you were planning to do the best you could with that free period.

that is, until you casually find the blue haired girl crying under the bleachers.

it was out of character, way too far.

you’ve known jinx since… forever. though you doubted she ever noticed you, she definitely caught your eye from a very young age.

you didn’t know much about her home life, apart from rumors and gossip full of inconsistencies, her life history was a mystery. but you just knew something happened around the age of thirteen, because that’s when her personality had a huge change.

from the cheerful, creative, social butterfly powder to the obnoxious, short tempered, problematic jinx. it wasn’t from a day to the other, of course not, but you vividly remember when she mutated skins.

it started by her getting weirdly quiet. it was just strange for you not to hear her loud giggles and excited volunteers to participate in class. sometimes, she would even skip them. then you noticed that she pulled away from everyone. her former friends were mindlessly brushed off as she preferred to sit quietly alone.

she started getting in troubles. kids would accuse her from stealing stuff, such as pencils or lunch money. it got messy real quick, after all, they couldn’t ignore it when it was at least six to seven kids assuring it was her who committed the crimes. parents got involved, but apparently her father handled it very well because soon enough nobody cared anymore.

growing up jinx developed a punk, dark style that got you obsessed for awhile. and she played the part, discussing with the teachers and challenging the authorities, she really seemed to hate the system. and her classmates.

now, maybe, just maybe, you had a crush on her. and you could’ve do something about it, if it wasn’t because she scared the shit out of you.

jinx was a walking trouble. wherever she went, whenever it was, with whoever she wanted. her patience was extremely low and it was obvious she found joy in making others miserable. younger kids were more likely to be her victims, but some classmates were unlucky enough to get involved too.

she never messed with you. and your most logical explanation was that she simply didn’t care about your existence. and why would she? you two were… polar opposites.

while jinx was pure chaos, you were an angel.

everyone’s favorite, specially teachers. not that you were exactly a nerd, but that didn’t matter. so what if you weren’t academically smart? you were adorable, enthusiastic and kind. even the most strict and harsh teacher would feel happy to see your hand raising in their class and answer to your dumb questions. in fact, they’ll use you as an example to encourage others to satisfy their curiosity by learning.

socially, you were a bit awkward, but you always meant well! there isn’t a club you haven’t been a member of, or a student council activity you haven’t volunteered for. you gave free tutoring, shared your lunch to those who didn’t bring enough money, helped carry books or homework models from one side of the school to the other.

in conclusion, you were a sweetheart.

this comes from an early age. when your parents proudly bragged to their friends about how ‘quiet’ and such a ‘well behaved’ kid you were. sure you’ve got yourself in a few little incidents. like stealing a chocolate from the store when you accompanied your mom do groceries. bringing stray animals to your house because you were worried they’d have to sleep alone and making your parents deal with them. or getting caught red handed magnetically reading your father’s porn magazine.

silly little accidents.

you were simply the kindest soul alive. of course you wouldn’t ignore someone crying alone.

your shy steps alerted jinx quickly, her head snapped up and her bloodshot eyes stared at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“what do you want?” she aggressively asked you, there was a vulnerability in her tone that squeezed your heart.

“um, i have tissues.”

your hands trembled as you rummaged through your bag, rushing to kneel in front of her and hand them over. you needed to comfort her, but you also wanted this to end as soon as possible.

her already pouty lips formed a frown, hesitating for a long minute before snatching it from your hand to blow her nose. not another word came out from her, not even thank you.

it was awkward, to stare at her while she cleaned up her wet face. your eyes traveled down to the floor, clearing your throat. “it’s a nice day.”

jinx only scoffed. glancing at you for a brief second before focusing on the tissues. then, she threw it away and placed her chin on her forearms as she hugged her knees, going back to that gloomy energy.

you were unsure, because she didn’t quite asked you to leave, but it seemed that her mind was elsewhere. what do you say now? you didn’t want to pry, in fact, you didn’t even want to know what was tormenting her.

then why did you stay?

you moved slowly, as if any sudden movement would make her notice your presence, you sat next to her, maintaining a respectful distance.

well, grass is grass. though neither the sun nor the wind hit your face like you’d want, it was a quiet, calming spot. so you opened your book and read.

it wasn’t like jinx didn’t notice you, or cared. there was something about your mere presence, it brought her a sense of peace. she kept crying, but she didn’t sob anymore. jinx kinda wanted to scoop closer, to make you round your arms around her and rest her head on your chest. that’s how welcoming your vibe was.

she didn’t, obviously. you both just sat there in silence, the noise of your pages turning and her quiet sniffing, along with the distant laughter from the students, were the only sounds heard.

you could tell jinx’s mind was complex, that was clear like water. it was inviting, the complexity of her person. to be the one to figure her out would be a big accomplishment, but ending up harmless was not reassured. if only you could ask her why was she crying.

she wouldn’t tell you, anyway. how could she explain the pain of her memories, the grief and difficulty in her relationship with her sister?

nightmares were easier to manage. one can wake up sweaty in the security of their home and they’ll be alone, with no eyes to judge your trauma. but the nightmares transformed into sudden flashbacks in the middle of a class, the heartbeat quickens at a scary pace and the breathing gets heavier. and jinx thought, only for a second, that she might die right there.

you didn’t ask her, and she appreciated it. because your presence comforted her in a way no one, and nothing, could ever do.

jinx left first. she had spent the majority of the hour looking at the floor, occasionally grunting, muttering stuff you couldn’t comprehend. but she stared at you for quite some time. she found herself relaxing at the sight of your fingers following the words you were reading, paying attention to the smallest details in your actions. like the little puffs of air and the way your chest rises, jinx’s own breathing started to match yours at some point.

it sent shivers down her spine when she realized. neither of you says a word when jinx suddenly gets up, shook the dirt on her jeans and walked away.

you thought it was over, how silly.

next day you were welcomed by stares and giggles, firstly you just thought everyone was being super friendly. until you got to your locker.

the word ‘dyke’ shined in a fluorescent pink, other small drawings filled the free space. it wasn’t strange for students to decorate them, but this clearly wasn’t your doing, and it was extremely striking compared to your quiet personality. that was jinx’s handwriting.

you chuckled to yourself in disbelief, naively tried to brush a hand to clean it with no success and you hear more laughing. you glance away from your locker, just then you notice people made a round to watch you, some even took evidence with pictures. your cheeks reddened intensely, and you tried laughing with them, to pay no mind to the aggression of it all and laugh it off.

you were boiling anger.

escaping the spotlight wasn’t easy, but you make it to the furthest bathroom. you felt like screaming, your breathing was heavy and little tears tickled the corner of your eyes.

what did you do to deserve it? is that how the universe pays you for being nothing but kind to people? you knew half of the students that were laughing at you. you helped them pass their exams, paid for their lunch, listened to their problems when no one else would. and then they laughed at you.

and what was so funny? how did they even know you were into women? were you that obvious?

while you were processing that and much more in you mind, someone else entered the bathroom. your head snapped towards them, scoffing loudly when you realize.

“dyke?” your voice rumbling in the empty room made jinx giggle, she closed the door and swiftly locked it. there was a very different air coming from her, she looked joyful, lively and mean.

her little mocking smile pretended to look innocent as she battled her lashes at you.

“dyke.” she shrugged, approaching you slowly. you felt cornered, like a prey.

“w—why?”

“w—why not?”

you huffed in frustration, stepping back to try and keep some distance, but she wasn’t having it. “did i offend you? yesterday?” you asked, unable to hold back the little tears.

jinx doesn’t answer, but her demeanor softens noticeably. she reached to brush her thumbs on you cheeks, she felt the warmth of your blush and her heart fluttered. she felt so giddy that it scared her, suddenly pulling back.

“what a dumb question.” she scoffed, messing with her hair as she turned to the mirror, fixing her appearance to her liking. you saw how she purposely smudged her eyeliner and you mentally agreed. it suited her. “when will you learn to mind your own business?” she added your name to the end of the question and it threw you off.

“huh?“ jinx looked at you with nonchalance, slightly amused at your confusion. “what do you mean?”

“you’re always behind other people, offering a helping hand and what not— it pisses me off.” her voice got progressively more annoyed. “you’re only losing time, did anyone help you back out there?”

“w—well, no, but—“

you couldn’t think of anything. she was right, she also approached you again, and her closeness affected you quickly, snatching the words from your mouth.

“b—b—but.”

you grunted, hiding your face in your hands as you leaned back on the wall. “stop it, stop.”

“i’m not doing anything!” she chuckled, comfortably placing herself next to you with her shoulder pressed to the cold surface to face you better. you couldn’t see her, but there was little hearts in her eyes as she gazed you.

“what’s wrong with lesbians, anyway…?” you used your last defense, muffling your words softly against your hands.

which you quickly pulled away when you felt cold fingers tickling the exposed skin of your waist. jinx held you with a delicacy that made your breathing twitch.

“nothing~” she purred, getting even closer as she hugged you from the side. “i love lesbians.” she chuckled again, but it didn’t sound like she was making fun of you now. you were bewildered, but you didn’t separate an inch. “i just couldn’t think of anything else to mock you, heh.”

you knew it was wrong for many reasons, but in the very moment you thought that it was cute. she was cute.

“i… i didn’t knew you…”

“hmm?” she hummed with a smile, placing her lips close to your ear to murmur as soft as she could. “that i was into you?”

she wasn’t making things up. you were simply oblivious. why else were you practically the only one unaffected by jinx’s antics? until today, that is.

if you’d have payed attention, you would’ve noticed the constant staring, the quiet steps behind you. you would’ve understood why some ungrateful students came back at you after a tutoring session to offer you money for your time and effort, you never accepted it, but there was jinx threatening kids for you.

jinx fixation only snapped when you finally offered your attention to her. to have you kneeling in front of her with worried eyes, unsure of how to actually help her and not leaving when she wouldn’t even spare you another glance after accepting the tissues. your kindness made her heart race and she wanted it all to herself.

the silence that filled the bathroom was comforting, though the tension could be cut with a knife. or a kiss, whichever happened first.

surprisingly, you made the first move. tilting your head close enough to brush your lips against hers. you felt her sigh into your mouth before reciprocating. the contact was firm, eager and gentle. could’ve been more romantic if you weren’t in the schools bathroom, but neither of you minded.

she didn’t lose time to press herself into you against the wall, her hands roamed your waist and shamelessly explored under your shirt. the kiss quickly heated up, just like your bodies.

your hands clutched her shoulders to keep her close, though you shy away for a second when her tongue licked your lower lip. “god…” you sighed, mesmerized by the feeling. jinx tried again and this time you welcomed her by opening your lips for her.

she treated you so good, her touch both gentle and hungry made your back arch into her. her tongue conquered your mouth with ease, exploring every inch until one of you pull away to breath.

it was intoxicating, thrilling. the voice in your mind warning you when her hand slipped under your pants got more and more distant. her slim fingers caressed you over your underwear and you reluctantly broke the kiss to whimper softly. it was unknown, exciting. your own hand gripped her forearm as you tried to quiet down.

jinx hummed in amusement, “feels good, hm?” she pecked your lips before moving to your neck. it was only a matter of minutes before you pleaded for more. though your words came out slurred and nonsensical, you had to guide her hand under your panties to make the point.

“y—yeah, yeah,” you kept mumbling, praising the softness of her touch. jinx’s own knees trembled when she heard you moan loudly, her middle finger smoothly entering your pussy. she had to kiss you again to shut you up, but she was fucking you so nice.

you greedily asked for more, muffling against her lips. you wouldn’t even be standing if you weren’t holding yourself from her shoulders. she added another one, setting a soft pace, her curling fingers hitting your sweet spot over and over.

you felt the pressure in your lower belly, “ah, jinx—“ you tried to warn her, but she already had an idea. your walls squeezed her fingers harder, and your hips kept twitching towards her, searching for relief.

“i got ya, baby.” she reassured you, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear as you came in her hands.

jinx was a riddle no one bothered to figure out, not even you. it was a pleasant surprise to be the first to feel how sweet she can actually be. you craved more of her.

it was a weird pairing, people noted. you both mindlessly walked hand in hand the next week, jinx’s uncaring attitude gave you the boost of confidence you needed after being laughed at so recently. [jinx apologized profusely for it.] but it worked perfectly, having each other’s back when something went wrong. there was a special, comforting connection between you two that couldn’t be compared.