#< I know even just mentioning MC in the tags here will put it there so ill just Say It

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | 🔞 Main Work

He's one of the best, no race too tough to handle, every track a new challenge he takes on- especially when it's you who's waiting at the finish line for him.

Tags/Warnings: Racer!Jungkook, established relationship, romance, suggestive themes, heavy flirting, adult content, mentions of online hate, only minor angst, they're a power couple, this MC is now my spirit animal, smut

Length: ~5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: I know nothing about actual car racing. Pls don't take it too seriously, thanks haha 💗

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"But be real here-" A fellow driver asks, sitting down at the side now to pick up a water bottle. "-I always wondered, are you like, actually a couple?" He asks, taking a sip of his water, replenishing what he's sweat out during the training session with Jungkook and the other drivers.

Jungkook sighs to himself, before he gets into a sitting position, tapping the timer on his phone to a stop. He gets these questions a lot- whether or not you're in if for the right reasons, how good your pussy must be to have him put up with your annoying attitude all the time, or how someone like him isn't hooking up with models and actresses left and right. He's not sure why it's such an outrageous thing apparently to have a stable relationship, but somehow, if he just went by what magazines and online gossip-blogs report, it's apparently absolutely unthinkable to be in a normal loving relationship in his position.

But he is. And he intends to keep it that way for as long as you'll have him.

He loves you, dearly so. Your 'bad habits' and flaws are just as endearing to him as the rest of you, mainly because you were also there when he was just starting out, bank account almost always empty at every end of the month, rent barely being paid. You stayed even when he was at his lowest, you cheered him on when he won his first major race, and you consistently keep supporting him at every event you can. And to him, you're prettier than any model he could ever come across anyways.

"We're an actual couple indeed." Jungkook affirms, locking his phone before he screws open a plastic bottle of water himself.

"But like, isn't it a bit disappointing sometimes?" Jake asks him. "Like, I heard you never go to afterparties, and if you do it's always with her. You could have anyone, man." He laughs.

"You'll get there too, maybe." Jungkook chuckles simply, when the door opens, and familiar jingles of jewelry make him smile to turn around- and there you are, meeting his eyes with a smile, as he instantly moves to stand up.

"I bought you all your favorite snacks, and there's like, one of those electrolyte drinks there too." You say after pecking his lips with your strawberry flavored lipbalm, putting the white plastic bag into his hands. "You're not overdoing it, right?" You ask, and he grins, shaking his head.

"I'm almost finished anyways. You wanna wait up here? We can go back to the hotel together then." He asks you, gently pulling your hair out of your long earrings where some of it had gotten tangled. You let him, and wait for him to lean back as a sign that he's finished, before you answer.

"If it's not too much of a bother? There's already a bunch of paparazzi outside, I think someone might've leaked your location online.." You tell him, and he grows serious at that.

"Then you'll wait. I don't want you going back to the hotel alone if they're outside." He tells you now, not giving you another option. He remembers the last time you almost got mobbed at the airport, simply because you flew out the country a day after he did- and of course it created rumors and the wildest theories as to why that might've been the case. It's what happens to him constantly due to his status as the 'hottest race driver of his generation'.

One magazine reported that you apparently have been spotted fighting by someone at a restaurant, and that that could explain why you had sunglasses on during the airport walk- because you two probably broke up, and your eyes must've been swollen from crying. In reality, you always wore shades or shielded your eyes, because you're sensitive to the camera lights and the masses of people make you anxious, so you always try and blur them out somewhat.

Another online forum speculated that you two definitely broke up, and that it was long coming, because the hate must've gotten to you finally. That there's just no way you both could've ever worked out, and that it was just pushed by your parents so you'd have the most comfortable life imaginable. Your father allegedly introduced you to Jungkook at a press conference, which made Jungkook laugh.

True, your parents know each other- but only because you're a couple, and obviously became closer over the years of dating. It didn't make sense that you both just became a couple so you'd have it easy, when he's mentioned multiple times that you both have been dating for way longer than the span of his career.

And then, that one gossip site that pushed the narrative that he cheated on you at the last afterparty. That there's images from the event where he can be seen with a woman with long dark hair that's definitely not you, and that you most likely found out and kicked him out- and just flew out to start a new life in a different country.

That one made him angry.

The woman he'd been seen with was Mingyu's mother- his best friend whom he'd helped out the burning wreck of his car after he'd crashed into the side barriers. She'd simply been there to thank him, and he'd hugged her just as a way of reassuring her that he'd always be there for any of his teammates, no matter what. And that specific website constantly stirred up cheating allegations- either at him, or you, it didn't matter. Clearly edited photos, alleged video evidence that didn't even show you both at all, it was stupid, really.

He's lucky that you don't instantly believe anything you see. Up until now, you always confronted him first if there was anything you were concerned about. And you trusted him, just as much as he trusted you.

Finishing up his workout, he takes the towel you offer with a thanks, deciding to ignore Jake's stares at your tits for now, since it doesn't appear to bother you at all. And honestly, he can understand. They do look great.

And they feel even better- but that's only for him to know.

The moment you both exit the gym they're all there- and he instantly moves you slightly behind him to properly shield you from anyone trying to reach out to you, which has happened often enough before to make him now hyperaware of it. But you somehow make it into the car waiting to take him back to the hotel without anything happening- though the questions hurled at you both from every side do annoy him to high heavens.

Jungkook are you still together?

Jungkook did you both talk things out?

Jungkook did you really cheat on her?

Jungkook-

"Jungkook." You ask him, and he moves his head to you now. "I asked you if we wanted to take a bath at the hotel? The tub is huge!" You beam at him, and at the sight of you all genuinely happy and carefree, he smiles, nodding, before he takes your hand to hold.

As long as you're still there, everything's fine.

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"Oh god-" You breath out, hand in his hair while he's gripping your thighs over his shoulders to keep them open.

Your panties are still hanging from one of your ankles, toes curled as he licks and swallows over your core, orgasm rapidly approaching you as he places a teasing kiss to your sensitive pearl. He moves around with ease, slips out of his pants rather quickly before he pushes your legs towards you once more, aligning himself with your entrance after lubing himself up shamelessly with your arousal he's gathered with his hand.

He doesn't need to rid you of any clothes- he's done that already.

You always joke that the secret to your happy relationship is back-breaking sex and good cooking- but sometimes, you actually believe it.

It's his main way of relieving stress- he's told you as much before. And he also enjoys the more romantic and sensual aspects of it, the closeness to you, and the knowledge that it's something special just between the two of you. It's always a little playful, unserious, light and relaxing, especially afterwards- the shared afterglow you both experience always something special where you both reconnect and bond once more. It's like you grow closer every time you're together like this.

Even though, according to him, that's impossible.

"Gonna.. wanna take you to the movies..!" He grits out, leaning back while while he holds your legs by the backs of your knees, thrusting his hips steadily into you. "Ah, fuck.."

"Can I- can I choose?" you giggle in pleasure, hands over your head grabbing the pillows while he watches your chest swing in the rhythm of his pace.

"Hm, I don't know.." He mumbles, leaning over you now after letting go of your legs to peck your cheek. "What do you wanna watch?" He wonders, before mouthing at your neck.

"Right now?" You hum dreamily, closing your eyes at the sensations of it all. "Wanna watch you." You say, and he chuckles against your skin, hands next to your head steadying him as he slows down a bit to a more sensual rhythm, though he presses himself deeper at the same time, making you arch your back as your legs hook together over his back.

"You're so cute." He teases, one of his hands moving to run over your chest, playfully smacking one of them once to earn a squeak from you- and laughter from him.

"Kook-!" You whine, and he mimics your tone a little, before his hand moves over your body between your legs where you're currently connected, fingers toying around with you. "Yes-!" You beg, thighs pressing together against his body, before you reach your high, muscles twitching from the feeling, while he becomes a bit more erratic now with your core clenching around his length.

He cums a little afterwards, pulling out before he spills his seed over your lower abdomen, the sight always doing something to him.

"You know, I really wanna go to that premiere that I was invited to with you." He says after taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, getting up after leaning over you to peck your lips twice- because once is never really enough for him.

"Heh, you know I'll always be at your side if you want me there." You sing-song, stretching your limbs while he turns on the water in the bathtub, door open to be able to hear you. "So, if you wanna take me, of course I'll be your arm-candy!" You chirp, and he smiles as he returns with some babywipes in his hands to wipe down your skin.

"I always want you at my side." He tells you gently, careful with the rather cold wipes on your skin. "And I'm glad you're still willing to put up with me and this whole thing." He shrugs, throwing the tissues away in the trashcan.

"Why wouldn't I?" You wonder up at him as he hooks his hands underneath your back and legs to carry you into the bathroom of the hotel room you're staying at, to help you into the tub.

"Why would you?" He sighs, getting into the tub as well, unscrewing the small bottle of soap offered by the hotel to pour it into the water. "I sometimes really wonder how.. strong you must be to just constantly put up with all the things said about you and me." He says, pulling you closer to him as the bubbles form with the water pouring in. "…I was really scared, you know." He mumbles onto your skin before he kisses your shoulder.

"Of what?" You ask, unsure.

"When the rumor spread of me cheating. I always.. get worried you might become doubtful of me when things like these are said." He admits to you, before you turn around in his arms, his hands immediately on your hips.

"I'm not worried though." You simply tell him, running your hands through his hair before they settle around his neck. "I trust you." You shrug, and he moves his hands up to hold your cheeks, pulling you closer to kiss you until you giggle, pushing against his pecks to get him away. "Kook no-" You laugh, but he whines.

"But I want to love my girlfriend!" He complains.

"You just did!" You argue back, and he plays with his lip rings for a second.

"But you deserve more." He purrs, trying a little more.

"And my pussy needs a break!" You respond back, making him laugh. This is why he loves you so much- why he loves your relationship so much. Living with you is easy, it's relaxing, it's light and it takes his mind off of all the worries he has.

Because when he's with you, it's like none of it matters. He can just fall into your arms and trust you to catch him every single time.

And you do. Just like right now, as you kiss him until the water cools down, and the bubbles are all gone.

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Something he's never really told you is the amount of people trying to get to you- through him of all people.

Mainly because everyone still somewhat believes the most common rumor that you're just a sugar baby kind of situation- that you're up for anyone, as long as the numbers fit your standards. It's infuriating really, makes his blood boil because what else does he have to do to make people take you both seriously? It's not even just the fact that they apparently don't take him seriously as your partner- but that they really think you'd be someone to use others for money, just because you're not the quiet sweet person in the background who they can bully around.

But he has a plan. Foolproof, really, and he's wanted to do that this year anyways.

"I need my good-luck-kiss.." He teases, keeping you close to him.

"Well if we had enough time I'd give you the whole good-luck-menu, but you gotta go get ready now." You giggle while he bites at your neck.

"Not yet.." He complains, already in his overalls, helmet on the bench close by. You're hiding behind a corner like schoolkids attempting not to get caught skipping class, and he admits that you both do this a lot. He just can't get enough, and today especially, he just wants to make sure the cameras can see his marks on you, and know that they're his. "Will you watch the race?" He asks, and you giggle.

"Of course. I always do." You promise, and he grins, before he pecks your lips one last time, finally getting ready.

You're standing in the VIP spots, watching closely how he starts the race, seemingly a bit behind. But he's pushy, he always is, competitiveness not letting him lose without a fight. And fighting he does, quickly catching up as he squeezes past several other competitors, making your pulse rise quite a bit. Truth be told, you always worry- especially after his friend's last accident that you witnessed that day. The race had been interrupted because of it, and had been decided to be re-started at a later date once Mingyu had fully recovered.

He only sustained minor injuries, cracked a rib and a minor concussion, but nothing else. But the sight of the car will stay in your head for quite a while.

You have nightmares, sometimes. Of Jungkook being in a wreck like that, flames swallowing his broken body whole, and you can't do anything to save him. That's most likely the biggest reason you're always a little on edge whenever he drives. You know he's a good driver, of course he is- but still. You can't help but worry.

Not that you'll ever tell him. He doesn't need about something stupid like that.

It's not even half an hour in, and a black flag is waved at a blue car lagging behind. There's smoke coming from the back wheels- so he's asked to leave the tracks and drive into his pit box, which he promptly does to get his vehicle inspected. It seems to be a more serious issue however- because the announcer suddenly explains that the racer named Jake Pitcher won't return to the tracks.

Time passes by, and the race goes on without much interruption. Everyone follows the rules, flags are waved left and right to navigate things happening, and your eyes occasionally lose sight of the mainly red and black hyundai Jungkook is driving, though you always find him again at the very top, leading the race. It's after the second pit stop that a driver in a sky-blue Toyota is becoming visibly more aggressive, especially towards Jungkook.

It's alright to be a bit pushy, you've learned that that's the norm- but this guy is putting other drivers in danger with just how close he's pressing himself against Jungkook's back and another's side.

But this is the sport. It's an aggressive one, and the rules about how to race are pretty grey.

Someone crashes, a yellow and green racecar you've seen earlier. The vehicle spins on the ground in donuts a few times before it comes to a stop on the grass, and the team is visibly running around to sort things out. It's announced that the driver is awake and alert, and doesn't seem injured- and the car is towed safely away, one lane closed until everything is cleared once more, caution in place for now causing everyone to slow down a little until the track is cleared again.

Jungkook had crashed before. Multiple times, even. He's cracked ribs, bruised his body, broken bones. Never anything too serious- but enough to remind you every time how dangerous his career is. You hate that side of it, and sometimes you really wish he would just call it quits- but you also understand that he's passionate about this, that this is his dream.

You'll always remember his worst crash- the way his car had flown through the air rolling around like it was nothing but a toy, front wheels almost pulled off entirely- and your fear inside your bones as it took him ages it felt like to climb out of the wreck, surprisingly unscathed, only bruised badly in some spots.

He was on a stretcher that day, a safety precaution even though he turned out mostly fine. You remember not even having the energy to scold him in hospital, crying at his side for hours it felt like until he'd managed to calm you down enough, his laugh teasing as he'd helped you wipe off your ruined makeup before going back to the hotel later to sleep- your body even clingier than ever before.

It's his fourth pit stop. Things are looking good- this time the car seems to be holding up a lot better than last time when he only made the third place, and the commenters seem to recognize that too. Jungkook is the only one bringing a car of his type on the track after all- it's basically the talk of town every time he participates. He went from being a joke to a true competitor nowadays- finally being taken seriously on the tracks, and you know Jungkook relishes in the feeling of it.

He loves to win, after all. Even if it's just the respect of others.

Suddenly, something happens in the front. The toyota pushes too hard, too far to the side, and it breaks the current leader completely into the barriers as the car loses control, dragging several cars with him- And as your eyes search for the familiar red and black car with white font written all over it, you find it.

There's a lot of smoke, several cars unable to continue, a driver exits his own on the grassy spot in the middle, throwing his helmet in frustration. Jungkook's car is scratched, badly, a slight crack in front, but he's still driving- seemingly having escaped with nothing but some minor damage. He's slowed down just like everyone else now, entire track under major caution as the damage to a lot of other car's is being inspected, several people now left out with their cars damaged too hard to compete any longer.

Jungkook seems just a bit out of breath from the shock from what you can see on the screens, now in the pit box where tape is placed over a break in the front over the scratches, car being refueled and inspected just to make sure. He gives a thumbs up when asked if he's alright- a nod given to other questions. According to a commenter, he's asking for any serious injuries in other drivers- but there are none, so he's reassured that everyone's alright and up walking around.

Caution is lifted, green flag waved. The fight is back on, speed increasing as they once more go back full force, pushing and mixing up the order in which they're making their way towards the finish line.

It's the last stretch now, and things are getting clearly heated on the tracks. From clear pushing to forceful passing, scratches and bumps can probably be found on every car after this race is done. There's a fight happening now, and Jungkook is not backing down from anyone- now doubling down, and pressing himself towards the front. He's not as impolite as some other drivers further back, but he still bites, clearly so- currently passing another car, the white flag waved as he presses himself against his competitor.

One round left.

You can practically feel the tension now, pulse racing just as quickly as his car drives as he pushes himself further and further up front. He's in second place. That's most likely the spot he'll make.

Or?

It's almost in the last second it seems like when he manages to outrun the Chevrolet he's been pushing against next to- the black and white checkered flag waved, Jungkook's name being called as everyone cheers.

He made it. His team cheers- but you're frozen in time.

Because this is also a win for you, every singe time. Your prize is the fact that he's unscathed, that he's okay, that nothing happened. Fireworks light up the sky, when suddenly, he turns the car, covers the track in white smoke from his wheels, a full on spin one of his by now signature winning gestures.

His team runs towards him, pulls down the window gate to congratulate him as he climbs out, pulling his gloves off before he takes off his helmet and climbs on the roof of his car, clearly excited over the win. The interview is easy, as he answers questions thanks his team, before he becomes nervous, visibly, shaking his hands a little. "You still seem rather emotional from the race!" The interviewer jokes, and Jungkook nods, before he runs a hand over his face, bracing himself it seems like.

"Yeah that too, but uh- I made myself a little challenge too, you know?" He laughs. "I promised myself if I won this race, I'd.. do something I've been chickening out of for quite a while now." He explains, and you become a bit nervous now, unsure what he's trying to say. You're making your way down now to where his team is too, now closer and in sight as Jungkook grins to himself.. almost shy?

A member of his crew gives him something, and you become suspicious when he walks towards you now, because that stupid grin he has on his face just spells trouble in bold capital letters.

"You put up with so much shit, you know?" Jungkook tells you over the sound of people cheering and the commentator telling the crowd what's happening- everyone now curious. "You really do- and I don't think there's anyone out here in this world that can really love me like you do." He offers, and you laugh to yourself. "Don't laugh! I'm serious!" He complains, making some crewmembers laugh. "Either way, I might've won the race, but do you know what prize I'd really like instead?" He wonders, before he moves to drop to one knee.

"You, as my wife." He tells you, slightly dirty black box containing a ring.

And suddenly, the world seems to quiet down entirely as you nod, watching in fascination as he puts the ring on your finger in front of thousands.

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"Jungkook you're speeding!" You whine as he laughs in the driver's seat, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the weather.

"Babe I'm actually way below the limit, what're you talking about?" He chuckles, always a little amused by the irony of your fear of him driving- him, a professional racecar driver. "It's an RV, not a racecar. Relax a bit." He says, taking your hand to kiss the back of it before he continues to hold it.

He's taking some time off- spending a vacation in europe with you, having rented an RV for some quality camping that he's always wanted to do with you. Now that his relationship status had been officially upgraded so to speak, rumors have died down- the thrill seemingly left now that he's made it more than clear that he's taking it seriously with you, even though he always has.

"Still, can't you drive a bit slower?" You worry, and he shakes his head.

"No can do darling. But we only have half an hour to go anyways, so we're almost there." He tells you.

"Half an hour can feel like a lifetime though.." You pout quietly, and at that, he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Were you scared when they all crashed?" He asks, and you nod.

"I searched for your car right away. You can't believe how I felt when I saw you come through that cloud of smoke and car-parts almost unharmed." You whine. "I hate that I'm always so scared. I don't want you to feel bad when you drive-" You worry, and he laughs.

"You're not making me feel bad, don't worry." He shakes his head. "I can understand how hard that must be to watch though. Just like I said, I'll never understand how you put up with me and my shit." He offers, and you shrug.

"I don't know either." You huff. "You constantly bully me." You complain.

"I don't bully you!" Jungkook argues scandalized.

"You constantly make fun of my height, and you laugh when I'm scared, and you slap my ass in front of everyone no matter who!" You say, and he shrugs.

"It's a nice ass, what can I say?" He defends himself, making you glare at him. "Hey come on, you can't possibly blame me, you slap my ass too!" He argues back to you.

"That's cause you deserve it!" You respond.

"And you don't?" He wonders.

"Absolutely not. I'm an angel!" You state, and he laughs theatrically.

"You might get down on your knees regularly but you're not a saint-" He jokes, making you roll your eyes. "-see? And a brat too.!" He teases.

"Yeah well if you're not nice to me I won't suck your dick for the entire trip." You threaten. "Not even once." You state, making him pout playfully.

"Not even the tip?"

"Won't even touch your balls." You respond, and he whines.

"Oh no! Anything but that!" He complains, finally driving towards the entrance of the camping spot. "What do I have to do to gain back the sacred touch of my soon-to-be-wife?" He asks, having parked the RV now, and taken off his glasses.

"..you can start by giving her a nice kiss." You tell him. "But a good one. With feelings and all- the whole menu." You demand, and at that he leans over the middle, careful not to touch anything and cause an accident, pulling you closer by your neck.

"Well-" He smiles warmly at you. "-that's easy."

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"So how have you always dealt with all the hate and rumors about you both? That must've been pressuring!" A paparazzi asks you as you stand right next to your by now husband, who's just made the second place in his latest race.

"Oh, I just look at him naked to remind myself why it's all worth it in the end!" You beam happily at them, Jungkook laughing loudly next to him.

Yeah- you're really one of a kind.

And he doesn't mind spending the rest of his life with you.

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

[witheringwidgetwrites]

MC has a secret admirer!

Request goes; They're already dating but it's new so most of the lesser demons don't know about it. MC then starts getting love letters from an anonymous person and the Dateables/Brothers get the need to show off that MC is theirs?

I'm gonna do the brothers first! Hope that's cool! If yall wanna see more pls request it! (Also pretend that this is near the beginning of yalls relationship)

INTRO

"Wow, look babe, I got a love letter! Guess I'm more popular than I thought, you might have some competition." You chuckle, kissing his cheek. It was a very flattering letter, laying out all your strengths, compliments sprinkled generously throughout the writing. It was... surprising to say the least. But you were excited to tell him about it!

LUCIFER

If he's already on edge, he might just yank it and rip it in half. Today, however, he's in a good mood.

"Let me read it." You hand him the paper, watching him closely as he grimaces and scoffs. He's not nervous, but he is baffled that someone had the nerve to send you such a... bold letter.

A little prideful, in the sense that he has something that no one else can. He know's you wont leave him for some lower demon, but he can't help but feel slightly threatened.

Walks a litter closer to you around town and RAD. He'll hold your hand when the hallways start to filter out and there's less students around.

Puts in the effort to take you on more public dates, Restorante Six, most likely. kissing your hand and giving you roses at the table. He's not flashy, but it's enough for rumors to spread quickly.

MAMMON

He rips it from your hand, immediately turning his back so he can read it. "Is this the kinda lame sappy stuff you're into? Even I'd do better than this! It don't even mention ya eyes!"

He hands it back to you, mumbling something about, "i'll show 'em" before he stomps off, shaking his head.

He struts the RAD halls with his arm around you, glaring unnecessary at anyone who walks by. He's certainly on edge for the first couple days after. He starts passing you small silly notes during class, little drawings and pickup lines. You watch him as he turns away, hand trying to cover his flushed cheeks.

Also takes you out more. Carnivals, amusement parks, more casual things! Posts 1 post, with a few photos of you together, captioned 'almost as good as grimm.' If you get another letter, you might end up having your first kiss in front of the school!

LEVIATHAN

"Wha? Who?" He can feel his heart beating faster, anxiety rising in his chest. "Just kidding Levi, you're the only demon for me!" You giggle at him. "Could I read it?" You hand it to him, watching him plop down in his gaming chair. He gets very expressive while he reads. Before long, his tail is swishing behind him, "they don't even know you! There's no mention o-of any of your favorite videos games in here! You love games." He frowns, throwing his hands up dramatically. "I know Levi, I don't even know who sent it. Don't worry, they don't know me as well as you do." He pretends to lose control of his tail, that pulls you into him for a hug.

He sulks for a few days, but after some reassurance, he has a plan. You're going to the aquarium and he'll hold your hand! That'll really show 'em. Might even go to physical school a few days more than usual to walk with you.

He writes you a little in-game dialog sappy note, telling you a few things he loves about you. Might make a singular Devilgram post with you, hugging his Ruri-chan body pillow, captioned ''my #1 and my #2'

ASMODEUS

"Ohh! Of course you're popular MC! Everyone loves you, and me of course. We're the top power couple! Now let me take a look." He smiles at you, smile faltering slightly as he reads the letter. Eyes blinking a little stiffly, he hands it back to you. "That's so superficial, you're much better off with me." And with that, he walks away.

He shows the world exactly who's you are immediately. You're tagged in maybe 10 posts in a row. Pictures of you and him, some of just you, all captioned things like, 'my love' and 'my number one always' and 'remembering the moment I fell for you' and it's unmistakable.

Becomes even more affectionate in the RAD hallways, snuggling up to you, sitting in your lap/having you sit in his during lunch.

SATAN

He frowns, putting his hand out for the paper. He glances over it, brow furrowing as he reads. "This is amateur writing. You deserve much better." He hands it back to you, walking past you quickly with a scowl on this face. He turns back halfway down the hall, "be ready at 6:30." You decide to leave him be.

First order of business, he writes you a beautiful letter. It's long winded, many poetry references, and references to stories you've read together. Even compares you to a cat, somehow. He does not give it to you yet.

He dresses nice for your date, electing to take you to dinner, and then a stroll through the royal gardens. As you approach the doors to the House of Lamentation, he turns to you, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a wax sealed letter, your name written neatly on the other side.

Sits a little closer to you at lunch time, and in the library. Hoping someones will see and rumors will spread.

BEELZEBUB

He doesn't read the letter. He's a little jealous, but he thinks reading it will upset him, so he stays away.

He makes the small effort to hold your hand more. He's not normally one for PDA, but for you, he can make a small exception. You can see how flushed his face is when you look up at him.

On game days, he lets you wear his jersey until he needs it. Might post a picture on his Devilgram of you in it. Captioned, '#1 fan'

After one of his games, he sees you talking to a lower demon, they seem to be standing awfully close. He sees them throw their arm around you, and so he calls for you, pretending he didn't see them. He waves at you, jogging over and cupping your face with his hands before placing his lips on yours.

BELPHEGOR

He's half asleep when you tell him. Isn't really bothered until you make the comment about competition. Now he's awake, and looking around like there's a present threat. Yanks the letter from you, holding it close to his face while he scowls. He scans the paper, before rolling his eyes and rolling back over onto his side, taking the letter with him.

Pretends he's not bothered. Asmo brings it up at the dinner table, Belphie calls it a "stupid letter" and crosses his arms, slouching.

Doesn't bring it up again, but you notice he's a little more cuddly in public than he was before. One day after class, he finds you in the library studying, he saunters over, kissing you brashly, tongue tracing the edge of your bottom lip,and loudly, before wiping his lip with his thumb, and sitting next to you, "what're you studying today, MC?"

If you like my posts, please feel free to tip me here!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphagor #mammon x reader #lucifer x reader #asmodeus x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #belphegor x reader

[miraclewoozi]

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#dino smut #lee chan smut #dino x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #kpop smut #j writes. #* #this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3

[exrellian]

Replaced MC AU

Authors Note: the amount of support I’m getting is insane and I am so thankful! I didn’t expect my first series to blow up like this! Comment if you would like to be added to the tag list (which is something I never expected to have) and of course, enjoy part four!!

TW: none really except MC and ??? Shit talking the brothers and royals

Part 1-Part 2-Part 3-Part 4(you are here)

Someone who feels the same way

??? POV

“Chef! There is someone sleeping in the alleyway next to the restaurant!” A demon said, “if you let homeless people just sleep outside people are going to stop eating here. This is a prestigious restaurant, not a homeless shelter.” The noble demon scoffed at the other

“I will go take care of it.” The chef sighed, grabbing his coat and umbrella from his office before exiting the restaurant and checking the alley beside it. Sure enough, there lays a boy, looking to be physically around the same age as the chef, and he looks like shit

“How long do you plan on sitting in the alley? Humans get sick easily.” The demon spoke, moving his umbrella to cover the soaked boy

“You gonna eat me?” the human asked, not even moving his head up to look at the demon

“Eat you? Ew.”

“Don’t mess with me, I know how demons are.” The chef shook his head, leaning against the wall across from MC

“If I was going to eat you I would have done so already. Aren’t you the precious little exchange student? Weird to see you without one of your guard dogs.” He scoffs as he mentions the seven lords

“Please don’t bring me back there. Who knows what they will do if they found out I was causing a noble demon trouble” MC sputtered, still not making eye contact with the mystery demon

“Ew.”

“Ew?”

“Those lords are as incompetent as the young prince who rules them.” The demon replied with a roll of his eyes “I’m Lawrence by the way. Why don’t you come into the restaurant and get cleaned up, the back room should have some spare clothes since yours are… gross”

“Are you sure your boss would be okay with that?”

“My boss? No, he won’t mind” Lawrence tosses his jacket at MC, still covering both of them with the umbrella

“If you’re sheltering me with an umbrella why do I need a jacket?”

“Put the hood up, hide your face and, since I wear this jacket often it should mask your scent as a human. A lot of noble demons are dining here, if you don’t want the lords knowing you’re here you best hide.” Lawrence explains, helping MC up off the ground

“Why are you helping me? You could have killed me at least five different times now”

“Because you looked pathetic. And I can’t have homeless people outside the restaurant, it will make it look… poor”

Small time skip

MCs POV, first person

I finished getting changed after successfully sneaking in… but now what? Sure I’m all cleaned up but was it all just to go out onto the streets again? Sure I could go to Purgatory Hall but who knows if they have been manipulated by Amelia too. I need to get a job and find a place to stay, even if I just hotel jump until the end of my time here…

“The uniform looks good on you.” A voice spoke from the door behind me “ready to get working?”

“What? Your… offering me a job here? But how will I go unnoticed!? And I’m a human, so won’t the demons be inclined to avoid this place with me working here!?” I ask, shocked at the sudden declaration that he was giving me a job

“An illusion spell, I put it in the uniform before you get changed. To me and any other demon you look and smell like a demon. No one will recognize you like this.” Lawrence explained, it’s as if he was prepared for this

“Oh… well I guess that makes sense, but why offer me a job? This just doesn’t seem right, you are a demon correct? Why help a useless human this much?” I asked, not fully trusting in this random demons intentions

“You ask so many questions, it’s annoying. I just felt like it, that’s all. This is my restaurant so I can give anyone I please a job.”

“Your restaurant!? You own this place!? The lords came to eat here many times, saying this was the fanciest restaurant in the Devildom!”

“If I could ban them from coming here I would. I had to work overtime any night you all came. That gluttony demon is a real problem for any restaurant he comes to. And don’t get me started on that prideful fuck, he can rot for all I care, he had the gall to tell me I was being too conservative with the serving sizes, at my own damn restaurant” Lawrence rants on and on, it was almost comforting to find someone who hates them as much as I do now “the only tolerable one is the young lords butler, at least he seems to have a shred of respect, unlike the other eight. Not even the prince can respect other people enough to not shout everything he says like he is the most important being in the three worlds”

“You seem to really hate them, don’t you?” I chuckle a bit at his tangent, not expecting someone who looks and acts like he does to go on such a heated rant

“Hate is such a… gentle word. I loathe them, they think they are the best demons ever because one of them was born into power and the other seven used to be angels. Well that doesn’t mean shit in the long run, and they will learn that sooner or later when their little exchange program backfires and the Celestial Realm fucks over both the Devildom and the human realm by extension. If there is one thing I loathe more than the nobles here in the Devildom, it’s the celestial realm” he sighs “we have gotten off topic, do you want the job or not? I live in a two bedroom apartment above the restaurant that you may stay in until you have made enough money to get your own place out until the exchange year comes to an end. Truthfully it would be foolish of you to refuse” he was right, it would be incredibly stupid to turn down this offer.

Tag list; @t-misaki @melpomenelurks @gallantys @skei2p @terodactu @atomsminecraft @cutest-tenshi

#obey me #obey me angst #replaced mc #obey me replaced au #obey me oc #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

[auteurdelabre]

So Much to Lose PART SEVEN dark!Joel x f!Reader

story summary: Newly settled into Jackson city and forced to go on patrols with the miserable Joel Miller sets off a chain of events and encounters that have you questioning everything, including your own heart.

rating: 18+

tags: Oral sex (m receiving), allusions to female masturbation, brief description of animal violence, angst, praise, dirty talk, nickname: Good Girl, mentions of postpartum, mentions of trauma, dom/sub dynamics.

a/n: Alright y'all I got some amazing comments from a hilarious person on A03 and it put me in such a good mood that I'm releasing this chapter ASAP. The comments really do make me write faster, as do reblogs and comments here... {hint hint}

I love y'all for following me and since I have almost 850 followers (when did that happen?) I'm planning something special for (if) I hit 1,000 followers here, somethin' real good.

Without further ado, here's the chapter and we find out a bit more about our MC's past and she and Joel finally talk about what's going on between them. . . sorta.

Chapter 6 here

___________________________

Chapter 7: Spoiled

You thought that the fear on patrols had abated. Not only were you on horseback, but you were paired with Joel, arguably one of the best shots in Jackson City.

So when he leads you to a path you aren’t familiar with, the first icy tendrils of fear slipping through you. When he orders you to stop your horse alongside his at the mouth of a forest you feel the overwhelming urge to vomit.

“Where are we?”

You speak so softly he doesn’t hear you, he stops just outside the dense forest, sliding off Midnight and tying him off to a nearby tree. He glances over his shoulder to see you still sitting atop Chestnut, your gun on your back and your eyes scanning the perimeter.

“What’re you waitin’ for?”

“What are we doing here?”

"We need to check the forest for traps," Joel explains to you. "The other patrol group sets ‘em up for large game. We check ‘em every couple of weeks." 

"Why can't we take the horses?"

"Too dangerous for ‘em inside," Joel explains. "We take ‘em in just enough to hide them but the roots and terrain are too much for ‘em. Too easy to twist their ankles." 

"Why can't the other patrols check?"

"They do," Joel says gruffly. "We take turns every week. This is our week. Now stop complainin' and let's go." 

You slide off of Chestnut at his order, but you make no move to go towards the forest. Too much is happening, too many noises and sounds and fears.

"J-Joel, I can stay with the horses." You don’t even hide the panic that’s crept into your voice.

"I said let's go," Joel huffs, gripping you by the upper arm and dragging you into the forest with him. He keeps his grip on you the entire way to the traps, almost knowing that the second he releases you, you’ll go rushing from the horrible dense of the forest.

Your feet drag but his grip is so strong that it doesn’t matter. Eventually you fall in line, marching alongside him. He doesn’t see that your eyes are closed, that he’s guiding you blindly through the forest. You simply lean into his grip, letting him lead as you follow.  

When you reach the traps a short while later he finally releases your upper arm. You find you immediately miss the safety of that grip and you are sure to stand close to him as he looks over the metallic traps.

“Why do you put them here?”

“S’where we find most of the game,” he explains distractedly as he surveys them. “Bait hasn’t been touched though, so nothin’s come by recently.”

He makes a circle around the perimeter and you can’t help but follow like a lost puppy. All of a sudden Joel stills. You can see the way his back goes rigid, his body coming to a full stop so abruptly you almost walk into him. 

You hear it, the gentle popping noise and you feel your body go numb with shock.

Clickers.

This is it. You're done for. You can’t even reach for your weapon, can’t even move a fraction. You’ve gone rigid, your eyes blown wide.

Joel raises his gun and you wait for the creature to come charging out of the woods.  You're confused when it goes off and a large bird falls to the ground away from you, thudding to the ground.

You’re still frozen in spot, watching as Joel walks over to it, nudging it with his foot. Satisfied he takes it by the beak, carrying it back to where you still stand looking terrified. His brows quirk.  

“S’wrong with you?”

"I thought it w-was one of them,” you whisper. “A clicker."

"Clickers sound different," Joel tells your blanched face. "More of a wet sound. But these birds sorta sound like em. S'why I kill em when I can." 

Joel looks to see your gun still strapped to your back, not even produced and you see irritation cross his face. 

"What would you do if you saw a clicker heading your way?" Joel asks you as the two of you walk through the forest back to the horses. "If you had no weapon and I wasn't here?"

Joel isn't one for casual conversation so you're immediately on guard. This is a test. But one you don't know how to pass. You glance around at your surroundings, noting the rocks and fallen branches from the trees. 

"Fire maybe?"

"You're gonna hunker down and build a fire while an infected is racin' towards you?" Joel scoffs. 

"Oh right," you mumble, feeling shame paint your cheeks. Your eyes scan around you again.  "Get a sharp stick? Stab it?"

"You get close enough to stab one you're already dead."

"A rock-"

Joel's deadened stare thrown over his shoulder at you stops you from guessing further and humiliating yourself. The two of you continue walking in silence before he finally breaks it. 

"If you see something coming towards you and you don't have a weapon, you gotta think smart," Joel explains. "You climb a tree, a good sturdy, tall one with thick branches. Infected can't climb trees."

"I've seen ‘em climb ladders," you argue. "And cars."

"Barely," Joel says patting the large tree trunk to his right. "And they'll only try to climb if they hear you up there. Once you're in the trees you stay still and quiet. Same goes for Raiders. You hide yourself in the tree and don't move. It's your only hope." 

"Okay."

"Repeat it."

"If I am unarmed and in danger I need to climb up a tree," you reply flatly. "I need to remain quiet and out of sight."

“Good.”

You shakily make it back to the horses and continue on with your usual patrols. When you get inside the old building and finish your log notes you pause to look at your dual signatures. How his wide printing almost looks like its shielding your tiny script.

He’s not as sullen as usual and you know it’s because of what’s going to happen. You share your lunch in an easy silence before you’re on your knees between he and the wall, your eyes covered by the red scarf, your hands bracing your thighs. His cock fills your mouth deliciously and you feel warmth blooming behind your ribs.

“Swirl your tongue,” he orders breathlessly and you acquiesce. You love that he tells you exactly what he wants. You love how good it feels to do this right, to have the rest of the world fade away, where all you can hear and smell and taste is Joel. To feel his heavy hand on the crown of your head, holding you gently in place.

He barely talks, just let's you bob your mouth along until you feel that familiar stutter of his hips that tells you he's close. He comes quickly today, his voice gruff.

"Swallow it down."

When you pull off him minutes later he doesn't unwind the scarf right away. You hear him breathing above you as he tucks himself away. Moments pass and you sit patiently, head cocked in curiosity. You feel as if he's staring at you, and you can't understand why. 

Finally he comes to unwind the scarf from around your eyes. You expect him to wordlessly walk from you, but instead he’s panting softly, his cheeks stained with red. He looks at your mouth, his tongue trailing over his lower lip.

"Show me your tongue," he demands in a low voice.

Even though this request seems unlike him you tilt your head back, opening your mouth widely and sticking out your tongue to show your clean tongue. 

You feel strangely vulnerable pierced by the quiet gaze of Joel Miller. You've done much filthier things than stick out your tongue but you're never been looking at him while you do it, able to see the haunted eyes that stare back at you.

"Good girl," he rasps.

You watch him zipping and buttoning his jeans before he casts one last look at you. He blinks slowly and then strides from the room, his face back in its customary scowl.

You listen for the front door downstairs to open and shut. You can’t even make it to the bathroom before your hands are sliding under your jeans and you’re whimpering as you bring yourself off to the rumbling chorus of good girl that echoes in your mind.

///

Later that week you artfully arrange the paper flowers in an amber wine bottle you got from the Tipsy Bison. You rest it on your kitchen table smiling at the colorful arrangement. After making Maria's second bouquet you found yourself eager to make one of your own to brighten the space. You like looking at it, enjoy seeing the bright colors in your unadorned home.  

You take the secondary bouquet of colorful flowers and wrap them in a strip of old cloth. The weather is drizzling and you don't want them to be ruined. You hide them in a small linen bag you use for groceries and then pull on your coat. 

The walk towards the dining hall is pleasant despite the drizzle and you're surprised at how many of the children laugh and run through the falling droplets. When you were a child there were always video games and television shows to occupy your space indoors on gloomy days. These children have none of those luxuries but you can’t help but observe that they look more joyful than you ever did.

No wasting life. 

Breakfast with Jennifer is a quick affair. She’s with that group of friends you met a while ago. The only one who stands out to you is tall Luke with the easy smile and soft countenance. He makes you feel at ease when you’re around him.

“Have you been practicing your shooting?” Jessica asks, looking effortlessly beautiful in her oversized sweater. Luke glances up from his breakfast, intrigued at the conversation. You pretend not to notice.

“Uh, not really. I don’t have a working gun of my own.”

Jessica is wide-eyed. “How could you not tell me? I have one that I don’t even use anymore! Come by tomorrow and I’ll show you how to use it.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Jennifer insists with a smile that makes you feel warm from the inside out.

You’re incredibly grateful for the kindness Jennifer has shown you, and despite how popular and well liked she is, she’s taken you under her wing. She has nothing to gain from it – except perhaps intel on Joel which you never seem to have. But you’ve noticed she asks about him less, she’s more interested in you.

It’s like she might be your friend. The first real friend you’ve had in a long time.

The walk over to Maria’s place is a quick one. The raindrops have stopped thankfully, but you worry that the swollen grey clouds above you might open up at any second.

The door opens on your first rap as if Tommy was waiting for you to arrive. He gives you a warm greeting, opening the door further and the aroma of fresh coffee floats out to greet you.

"Hi. Is Maria around?"

"Yeah she is, we actually have some folks over now-"

"That's fantastic," you say to him quickly before producing the flowers from inside the makeshift wrapping. "I tried some new designs out. Thought Maria would like 'em. Have a good morning."

He takes the bundle from you before you prepare to take off. You're so happy to hear that Maria is doing better; it makes your heart feel full.

"Wait, I wasn't sayin' that so you'd go," Tommy chuckles, long fingers touching your shoulder to stop you from leaving. "Come inside. We're havin' coffee. Maria’d love to see you." 

You pause before you think of what awaits you at home: nothing really. An empty house, no family, no books you haven't already read over and over. What could it hurt especially when it seems like his desire to have you come in might be sincere?

"Okay." 

You’re about to toe off your shoes when you notice the scuffed boots and mud splattered sneakers sat next to the door and you feel your stomach flip. You recognize those boots.

Tommy doesn’t notice your sudden reluctance, he simply ushers you into the living room where everyone sits chatting quietly before the fire. Maria and Ellie are deep in conversation next to each other on the couch. Joel sits in one of the armchairs, his ankles folded. He looks so at ease, his eyes on Ellie and a paternal look of love in his eyes.

The second you enter the room however and his dark eyes move to take you in, you see the gentle curl of his mouth disappear.

Good girl.

You feel a flutter of nerves go through you and you force your attention to the back of Maria’s head.

“Look who dropped by with more flowers,” Tommy announces before looking at you. “You want a coffee or somethin’?”

“No, I’m fine thanks.”

Maria looks up from where she sits next to Ellie on the couch and smiles at you. Joel gives you a lazy once over before turning his attention to the gently roaring fire. You don’t miss the tic in his jaw and for a moment you actually feel guilty that you’ve broken up this peaceful morning for him.  

“I’m so glad you came back,” Maria enthuses, her dark eyes shining with delight. “Please come take a seat.”

You settle into the empty chair by the fireplace opposite Joel as Tommy hands the flowers to Maria. You haven't seen Ellie much since she got irritated with you about the whole Jennifer thing. You give her a tentative smile from across the room, grateful when she returns it. 

"That's so cool," Ellie marvels, touching the paper petals gently.

"I wish I knew how to make these," Maria sighs happily as she gazes at them. "Seeing the other ones every day makes the place feel so cheerful. I'm gonna put these ones in the baby's room."

"I could teach you how to make them if you wanted," you offer gently. "It's not too complicated."

You hope you don’t sound pathetic and needy. There’s something about Maria’s vulnerability that calls to you. It makes you want to protect her in some way. You realize belatedly that it’s not just your Aunt she reminds you of, but your sister.

"I don't think I'd have the patience," Maria says with a gentle wave of her hand. "I just like looking at them."

"I wanna learn," Ellie pipes up, making you suppress a pleased grin. "I like flowers."

"Since when?" Joel murmurs with a smirk. You sneak a glance at him before looking back to Ellie who frowns at her father-figure.

"I've always liked flowers."

"Thought you were dead set on learnin' to bake," Tommy muses over his coffee mug. “I

"Maybe I wanna learn both," Ellie snarks back at him. "Is that a fuckin' crime?"

"Language," Joel mutters in her direction. 

"I'm happy to teach you both," you say with a little laugh to yourself. "Thought I can't say I'm an expert on either."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course," you say before your eyes sail over to the unmoving authority figure by the fireplace. "If that's okay with you?"

"Only if she's done with her chores," Joel finally supplies with a sigh, gripping his coffee mug a little tighter. "And if you don't break the damn oven."

Of course his assumption would be that you'd break something. You try to hold in the grimace that threatens to spill over your features. 

Ellie makes a little hiss of victory before giggling at you. You feel the frost from your Jennifer misstep is behind you now. The sound of Douglas’ cries break into the room and both Maria and Tommy quickly move into the bedroom to console him. You look back at Ellie.

"How's school?"

"Boring," she answers honestly. "Can't wait until I'm done with it."

"I miss it," you tell her honestly as you shift in your chair. "I really loved being in class, sharing ideas, learning."

"You're weird."

"Ellie," Joel warns. 

"S'fine," you say with a soft chuckle. "I am weird."

Before Joel can reply Maria and Tommy have re-entered the room with Tommy holding a drowsy Douglas in his arms with Maria trailing after the two of them. 

"He heard your voice and wanted to say thank you for the flowers," she says kindly. 

You smile as Douglas is placed gently into your arms by Tommy while the glossy eyed Maria looks on. You smile down at the sweet angelic face, your voice a soft murmur. 

"Well, you're very welcome, Douglas." 

The baby blinks, grunting a moment and wiggling. He's warm in your arms, but not heavy. You slowly rock him in your embrace inhaling the sweet scent of milk and that intoxicating baby smell.  

"Hello," you coo softly at him as he stretches. Maria joins Tommy on the couch next to Ellie, curling her legs under her. 

The rest of the group has begun talking about the movie playing this weekend. Trying to decide between a western and some Disney thing someone found on patrols. You're distracted by Douglas' long eyelashes over caramel skin. The pout of his pink mouth and the way he gurgles a toothless smile up in your direction. 

"Adorable," you murmur, grazing his cheek with the pad of your thumb. "Aren't you just the sweetest thing, little Miller?"

You grin widely down at him, wanting to press a kiss to his downy forehead but holding back. He's not your family after all. Instead you take his tiny hand in yours, marveling at the perfection of his small fingers dwarfed by your own. 

"He's so perfect," you mutter more to yourself than anyone else. 

"Gets his good looks from his mama," Tommy says throwing his arm over Maria's shoulders. He presses a kiss to her cheek as she grins. 

"Ain't that the truth," Joel murmurs, drawing a good natured chuckle from Tommy. 

"You want kids?" Ellie asks you bluntly, forcing the attention of the room your way. You take a moment to consider the question. 

"I dunno," you finally answer honestly. "Never really thought about it."

"I sure don't," she replies easily. "They're noisy, they stink, and they’re just too much work."

"Same could be said for teenagers," Joel murmurs behind his coffee cup, drawing chuckles from everyone but Ellie who gives him a playful shove. 

You suppress a smirk before your finger traces down the soft cheek of Douglas''. He blinks up at you, gurgling again.

"Motherhood looks natural on you," Maria says in a voice laced with sorrow. You know what she's thinking. Tommy is glancing at her with concern in his features. 

"Not as natural as on you, Maria," you assure her kindly. "I promise."

Maria nods but it's clear she doesn't believe you. You don't know that you believe you either. But she needs to hear it, needs to know that she possesses it even if it doesn't feel like it right now. 

Tommy shoots you a grateful smile that you return. You can only imagine how hard it is to love someone so much and not be able to fix them. To have so few options to help now in this new world. 

"So you’re interested in the kitchen still, Ellie?" Tommy teases her. "Gonna whip us up somethin’ good? Be a real Martha Stewart?"

Ellie wrinkles her nose. "A who?"

Ellie starts talking about the kitchen but you're distracted by the bundle in your arms. Douglas has fallen asleep again and his tiny snores makes your mouth curl into a bemused smirk. 

You feel eyes on you and when you glance up you're surprised to see Joel's steady gaze on you holding the baby. When he catches you looking his way, his eyes snap over to his brother who is explaining all about Martha Stewart.

"We've got stuff to do," Joel says pushing himself up from the chair. "C'mon Ellie."

"I wanna stay."

"You've got chores," Joel tells her firmly. "And you've put ‘em off all week. Let's go."

His tone is stern but his face is pure patience as Ellie sighs dramatically. She comes to a stand sighing again and about to leave when she seems to remember something and steps towards you, her face suddenly animated.

"How about Sunday for baking? You can come to ours."

Go to Joel’s house? The thought has you in a panic, your eyes darting from her to Joel. "Uh, if it's okay with-."

"Joel is that okay?" Ellie claps her hands in front of her dramatically and she turns to face him. "Pleeeeeease?"

Joel moves his tongue to the corner of his cheek, looking thoughtfully at Ellie’s desperate face before sighing wearily.

"Just tell me what I need to get," Joel says to the space beside your head. "Eggs ‘n stuff like that."

"Sure. I'll give you a list on Thursday." 

Joel nods, still not making eye contact with you but that's okay. You don't really want him to. Just the mention of Thursday has you slick between your legs. You may not like Joel Miller but the thought of what the two of you get up to on patrols makes it easy to get through uncomfortable interactions with him.

The door creaks shut behind them as they leave and you take a few moments to rock the baby in your arms until Maria gives a soft yawn and you worry you’ve overstayed your welcome.

"I should probably go too.”

"Don't go," Maria insists almost desperately, her eyes wide. "He looks so happy with you holding him." 

You see the tears gathering in her eyes and you adjust the baby in your arms before sliding off your chair. Tommy seems to sense that you need privacy because he gathers the empty mugs and walks into the kitchen to wash them.

You stand, coming to sit next to Maria on the warm couch. She looks at Douglas warily, as if he's a stranger's child. 

"Hold him, Maria." 

"I can't."

"You can," you insist softly. "He's your son."

"I know he is," Maria says, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. "I look at him and I'm so confused. I carried him; I fed him with my own body. Why don't I feel that connection like other mom's do?"

"You're not the only one," you tell her, hand on her shoulder. "My aunt went through the same thing. Gave birth to my cousin and felt nothing. She wasn't herself for months. You’re not alone, Maria. You’re not a bad mom; you’re not a bad person. This isn’t something you’re doing on purpose. It’s your brain.”

Maria shakes her head, as if the words don’t mean anything. You know she hears them, but she can’t accept them.

“You have a husband and friends to support you. I promise you that you'll get to the other side. I promise." 

You know that it's a heavy gamble. But she needs to know that there's hope. She needs to know that this illness has plagued women across centuries. She looks at Douglas’ sleeping frame and after a moment of hesitation she allows you to place him in her arms. You watch as her eyes get soft, her breathing slowly decreasing.

"Some days I really feel like he's mine," Maria murmurs as she drags a gentle finger down the slope of his tiny nose. "Some days my heart feels like its overflowing. And sometimes that's worse than not caring."

You're silent, just listening to her speak. 

"Love makes you weak and afraid. I've never been afraid of anything," Maria tells you, rocking Douglas gently in her arms. "But now that's all I am. Like one exposed nerve.”

Fat tears are sliding down her cheeks. You can’t help but run a soothing hand down her spine, rubbing up and down gently. She accepts your touch, even melts back into it.

"We shouldn't have done it," Maria hiccups a sob. "We were fucking idiots to have a baby in this world."

“You aren’t an idiot,” you insist. “You and Tommy loved each other so much you wanted to create life together. How is that stupid? That’s the most beautiful thing in the world.”

Maria sniffles, tears dropping onto the blanket holding Douglas.

“All I can think about is what I'd do if Raiders broke in. Or what if Douglas got bit? Or what would happen if Tommy and I got killed on patrols?  I'm terrified to leave him alone. Terrified that something is gonna happen to him if me or Tommy aren't around."

You can hear the clattering of mugs being washed in the kitchen. You wonder if Tommy is listening and you hope that he is, because you worry he might be having the same fears.

“Douglas is going to grow up, just like all the other kids in Jackson City. Happy and safe and loved. He’s going to grow up to be a good person just like his parents. He’s going to be smart and kind and who knows, maybe he’ll be part of finding a cure.”

Maria blinks over at you as if just realizing this possibility.

"Maria I never had kids," you tell her, hand rubbing over her own. "But I had a younger sister and she felt like my kid sometimes. Especially when my parents got separated when we were fleeing the city.

Maria stares at you, rubbing the tears from her eyes.

"When the pandemic started my mom was visiting her Aunt in Wyoming," you explain. "My sister and my dad and I, we escaped to the nearest QZ." 

“I never saw my Mom again,” you explain and you’re shocked at how deadened your voice sounds. It’s no longer a hurtful memory, more just a patchwork on the quilt of your trauma. Its life, you’ve accepted it. “The first day I got here I was sure I’d find her here. Sure that she survived somehow.”

“But she wasn’t here,” Maria finishes for you. “I would have recognized the last name.”

You shake your head slowly. “She wasn’t here.”

You think Maria might want to ask more about your history but you hear Tommy's voice filter in from the kitchen. 

"Joel, what're you still doin' here?"

Your head snaps to look over your shoulder. Joel is here? Had he heard anything? The thought curdles your insides. It was hard enough sharing this much with Maria. Knowing that Joel might have overheard is much worse. 

"Saw Jason out by the gates and he said that the lumber’s coming in Saturday,” Joel mutters. You can't see him in the next room but you hear the scrape of his boots on the wood flooring. "Thought you’d wanna know so you could get a group together.”

The two men mumble back and forth to each other and you hear the telltale sound of the door opening and closing behind Joel. You feel your heart hammering in your chest, suddenly anxious at the thought that Joel knows about your life. 

Tommy enters back into the room, his eyes on Maria. He sees her holding Douglas and you can see the sun break into his previously cloudy eyes.

"I should get going." You stand, looking down at Maria’s tear-stained face. "Sorry for showing up unannounced."

"You're welcome anytime," Tommy assures you warmly before coming to sit next to his wife. He slings his arm around her shoulders, looking down at his son in her arms.  

"Yeah," Maria agrees with a watery smile. "Please stop by again soon. I mean it."

“Okay, I will.”

///

Joel seems strange on patrols today. 

It started with handing him the list of supplies you’d need for baking. Instead of a smart remark he just nodded, taking it from you and shoving it into the back of his jeans pocket. The ride to Teton Village had been in its usual silence, you noticed that the snow from last week had turned into a slushy mess which meant the horses moved a little slower.

By the time you reached the old building with its log book you were more than a little eager. You’d woken up that morning particularly slick between the legs, a Pavlovian response to patrol days.

Joel is still near silent, not even looking at you when he brings out his bag for lunch. He pushes your sandwich and thermos to you, watching you carefully as you eat. Normally Joel stares anywhere but your face during patrols, unless he’s getting angry with you. Today however he seems a bit tense, his gaze a bit heavier than usual. 

It makes you uncomfortable. It makes you wonder what he’s thinking.

“I feel like Chestnut was walking a little weird the last mile or so,” you observe to break the silence. “Do you think you could take a look at his horseshoe before we go?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

The quiet stretches on,

“So what was the lumber for?”

“Huh?”

“You mentioned lumber back at Tommy’s,” you say, feeling like the peanut butter is sticking to the roof of your mouth.  “I was wondering what it was for.”

“S’for repairs on the window upstairs,” he tells you gruffly, taking a large bite of his sandwich.

“Oh right.”

You decide not to press things; he doesn’t seem to be in the chatting mood.  Lunch passes slowly, despite your anticipation for what comes next. Your heart is actually thrumming when Joel wipes his hands on his jeans and tilts his head for you to follow him.

You go into the room with the fireplace and couch and watch him shift into a comfortable seated position. The old frame creaks under his bulk and he stares at you standing, waiting and watching him.  He undoes his belt buckle, the clinking noise causing your thighs to press together tightly.

You walk towards him, eyes on his large hands.

"On your knees."

You acquiesce without thought, your jeans biting into the cold floorboards below. Joel watches you from under hooded eyes. The sight of him seated there disheveled, belt unbuckled and legs spread does something to you.

When he doesn't make a move for your scarf or anything else you feel a prickle of insecurity go through you. You blink up at him, swallowing only to have him frown down at you. 

"Do you actually like this?"

You don't like the way he says it, like there's something wrong with you if you do. You stand shakily, your eyes on the floor as you give him your murmured response.

"I do, yeah." 

Joel is a statue with eyes that burn like coal. You feel them even if you don't see them until you peer at him still seated insouciantly there on the couch. 

"You like me orderin' you around?" His voice is grated around the edges, his eyes holding nothing but disbelief. "Tellin' you what to do?"

"I like you being in charge," you correct.

"Why the fuck would you want somethin' like that?” Joel insists, cheeks pinking. “Someone orderin' you around?" 

"I think you need it the same way I do. Only you need to be giving the orders. Am I right?" 

Joel swallows and you see his large eyes widen a fraction as he takes in your words. You feel strangely emboldened by his lack of response, by the fact that you’ve taken him by surprise. And perhaps since you’ve been doing this for over a month you feel that you can voice this.  

"Am I right?"

He still doesn't reply, instead he crosses his thick arms over his chest and just stares you down. It doesn't intimidate you like it once did, but it does prompt you to answer him. 

"Because when you make the rules and do the ordering my mind goes quiet," you explain softly. "I'm not afraid, I'm not angry, I'm just... Free. I'm not in control but I'm choosing not to be." 

And you know just by the way his shoulders relax that Joel understands. He understands because it's what happens when he has you under his palm, mouth sliding on his cock, when he wraps the scarf around your eyes and tells you not to touch.

The choosing. The control. 

You’d known from the very first time he'd given you the order. You'd seen in there in the dark of his eyes that he liked the dynamic.

But you sense the hesitancy in him, a guilt that he shouldn't be enjoying it so much. His eyes take on a large, wounded appearance and it’s so clear that he’s wondering if he’s done something wrong.

"You've never given me anything I didn't want, Joel.” 

That seems to get through to him, because he blinks away that little lost boy gaze. 

You lower yourself to a kneeling position at his feet again. But you make no move to touch him. You simply bow your head, your hands clasped demurely on your thighs. You hear him shift unconsciously in his seat. 

"What're you doin'?"

"Tell me what to do, Joel."

You stare at his boots, never venturing to his face but you can feel him watching you, his large hand twitching at his side on the cushion. He looks down at you with uncertainty as you eventually tilt your face up to him. 

"Tell me what to do," you urge him again in a voice barely above a whisper. "Please."

You feel a rush of relief go through you when he nods and you can see the hard length of him through his jeans. You gingerly pull the scarf from around your neck, letting it hang in your grip loosely. You wait for him to retrieve it, eyes on the floor.

"No scarf," he rasps. "I know you'll listen. Close your eyes."

You do, feeling that tingle go through your body at his order. His large hand comes to the crown of your head, fingers snaking through the strands and tugging your face up. You keep your eyes firmly shut, not even considering peering through your lashes to see his face. You have your orders.

"Take me out and suck."

And you do, just as you have every other patrol for the last month. Only now it feels so much better because there’s no confusion. He gives you take, you give he takes. Your submission driving him forward, his domination calming your overworked nervous system. 

"You do like takin' orders," he observes with a groan. "Like bein' told that you're a good girl."

Your breathing elevates when you hear that term and you just know the corner of his mouth twitches.

"Yeah. S'what I thought." 

His hand is still wrapped in your hair, tugging you gently. Your lips feel rubbery and wet as you take him deeper. Your hands remain clasped on your lap. When you feel Joel twitch on your tongue you give a soft sigh through your nose, a feeling of blissful satisfaction. 

"Look at me," Joel murmurs.

You take a moment to consider if you heard him right, but then he repeats himself and you slowly gaze up the length of him. He's tilted over you with heavy eyes, mouth parted. A greying curl is stuck to his sweaty forehead. 

"Christ," he grits through his teeth. "Look ‘atcha there, mouth stuffed with my cock."

Desire blooms in you, snaking behind your ribs, down your veins, into your very bloodstream.  

"What happened to that soft thing makin' cookies?"

You happened, Joel. 

When Joel's quiet rasp reaches you again you physically shiver.

"You like bein' on your knees for me?" Joel grunts as his hips jerk forward.

You nod, your cheeks hollowing as you take him deeper into your throat. He lets out a strangled noise, tossing his head back.

"Fuck!" Joel glances down to see you still staring up at him, lips swollen around his shaft. "Look away now."

It doesn't sound like a cruel order, more a plea. You close your eyes, giving a small noise of protest when Joel brings himself out of your mouth. 

"Wanna come on your tits," he instructs with a rasping growl and you hear him stroking himself furiously. "Take em out for me."

Despite this being uncharted territory for you both you don't hesitate. Your hands fumble with your sweater and you pull it over your head, tossing it to the floor. Joel watches as you unclasp your bra, letting it join the sweater. Your nipples tighten in the cool air of the room. 

You're still not looking up at his face as instructed; so you don't know what he thinks. All you know is that the stroking is increasing. 

"Head back, eyes closed," he pants, his voice tight. 

You tilt your head back, eyes firmly closed. You feel vulnerable in this position, an animal who has bared their neck to a predator. Despite this you cup your breasts, offering them to him. 

"Good girl," Joel says with a grunt. "Fuckin' good… So good for me."

And the praise hits you so strongly that you whimper aloud. This is what sends Joel over the edge and he comes with a strangled groan, painting your tits with stripes of his warm spend. 

Your dual panting fills the room and you wish you could see yourself covered in Joel Miller's come. You wonder what he sees when he looks down at you covered in his essence. Proud? Embarrassed? Guilty?

"Open your eyes."

You blink them open immediately, your gaze flying to your chest covered in him before glancing up at him. Joel is breathing heavily through his nose, looking at you as if he’s still not convinced you’re real.

He reaches towards you and you don’t flinch when you watch his thumb come to gently trace over your right nipple, the spend there clinging to his digit. You feel a shiver run through with the contact of his hand on you. 

You watch mesmerized as his palm cups your cheek, his fingers curling gently against your jaw. His thumb hovers scant inches from your swollen lips. Your eyes can't help but dart to his face again and the sight of his eyes blown black makes you quiver. 

"Open," he says barely above a whisper. 

Your mouth parts, eyes still on his face. He slowly lowers his thumb into your mouth. It rests there on your tongue, heavy and damp. 

"Suck." 

Your lips wrap around his thumb, licking the digit clean before sucking it suddenly, nestling him into the concave of your upper palate like he belongs there. He watches this all with quiet fascination, eyes strangely sorrowful through it all, like it pains him to do it. You suck, your smooth tongue cradling his wide thumb. 

His hand is still cupping your cheek, even when his thumb is removed and drags down your lower lip, his gaze watching its descent. His brows saddle when you sigh gently, eyes locked with his. 

And then he yanks his hand from you so quickly that you flinch. You’re completely thrown by the behavior, covering your chest instinctively. He looks at you kneeling between his legs and he shakes his head as if to clear it.

You shuffle backwards as he stands abruptly. You sit there at his feet, covered in his cooling spend, shooting him a confused look. 

"We ain't doin this anymore," he tells you brusquely as he quickly zips up his jeans before buttoning it with trembling fingers.

"Why not?"

"Cuz I said so," he mutters before he shoots an ugly sneer your way. "You said you like takin' orders so this must be your lucky day." 

You can only shake your head in disappointment as he leaves the room. You don't know what happened but Joel is back to his old, asshole self. The door below slams behind him and you go to the bathroom to clean yourself up. Today there is no sliding your hands underneath your jeans and getting yourself off.

All traditions have been spoiled by Joel's selfishness. 

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

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[planet-dusk]

pay me // s.cb

you're having the worst month of your life: you got dumped by your ex, lost your job and now your car has broken down. luckily, the mechanic knows a way for you to repay him.

⛓️ PAIRING :: seo changbin x f!reader

⛓️ GENRE :: smut, dubcon, car mechanic!au

⛓️ WORD COUNT :: 1.3k

⛓️ WARNINGS :: dubcon !!! (sex as payment), mc is a virgin, corruption, degradation, mention of anal, pussy spanking, unprotected sex, oral (m), possessive behavior

⛓️ NOTE :: 18+ minors dni. this work contains dubcon. proceed with caution if the above warnings may be triggering to you. i do not condone any of these actions. the characters don't represent real people. this is fiction for entertainment purposes only. don't edit, copy, repost or otherwise steal my content.

📍 skz masterlist

Your hands are shaking under the mechanic's stern gaze. Sweat coats your brow when your card declines for the third time. 

“Are you sure the card works?” The man frowns. You’re standing in his small office at the back of the shop. It was the only one in town open on a Sunday and he towed your broken car all the way there. 

You bounce on the balls of your feet. His dark eyes make you nervous. You know there’s not enough money in your account; the repair was more expensive than you expected. 

“I can call someone. Let me grab my phone from my purse. It’s in the car.” 

The truth is you have no idea who to ask for help. Your cheater of a boyfriend broke up with you last month. You don’t talk to your parents. And the handful of friends you’ve got all have their own troubles. 

“So you can drive off without paying? Don’t think so.” The mechanic (Changbin, Seo according to the tag on his shirt) crosses his arms in front of his broad chest and watches you closely. “What kind of work do you do?”

“I-I,” you stutter, taken aback by the question. His probing eyes burn right through you so you don’t dare to tell him anything but the truth. If you’re lucky he might even take pity on you. “I got fired last month.”

“Sorry to hear that.” His smirk doesn’t match his words. “So I’m guessing you don’t have the money?”

“I promise I can pay you back later—” 

He shakes his head and wipes his hands clean on a towel. “Heard that one too many times before. You’re not leaving without payment.”

Tears burn behind your eyes as everything around you comes crashing down. The breakup, losing your job, the car… It's too much. You blink the tears away and take a shaky breath. You’re not going to cry in the mechanic’s office. 

The man steps closer and tilts your chin up with his hand. He smells like a mixture of motor oil and sandalwood. Something twists deep in your gut. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He smiles. “I have a solution."

When the mechanic had told you how to repay your debt you’d expected he would want you to give him a quick handjob or suck him off. Even though you felt shame at such a transaction you had agreed. You didn’t see another way out. You’d just have to get him to cum quickly so you could leave and never think about this day again.

But it would be a lie to say your eyes weren’t drawn to his strong arms and muscular chest. 

What you didn’t expect was for Changbin to put you over his lap with your skirt flipped up, the cold air hitting your exposed cunt. 

He has been playing with your pussy for what feels like hours. His rough fingers circle your hole and trace your lips, ignoring your throbbing clit. It drives you crazy.

He laughs at your helpless wriggling and spreads your folds to spit in your hole. You can feel it trickle down together with the last of your dignity. 

His wet thumb presses up higher, against your asshole and you gulp in surprise at the strange sensation. 

“Have you been fucked here before?”

"N-no," you hiccup. 

“Maybe I should be the first. Fuck your tight ass while your needy cunt stays empty until you’re begging me to cum.” 

You can feel his heavy cock prodding at your stomach and you wince. He'll never fit. Fear mixes with arousal and he laughs again. 

“Does that thought make you wet, sweetheart? Look at you. You’re fucking dripping.”

Changbin applies more pressure now, thumb almost breaching your rim. You realize he could do anything he wants to you. 

And you would let him. 

Shame washes over you and you hide your burning face in your hands. 

"What's wrong, princess?" he mocks. 

When you stay quiet Changbin slaps your pussy with the flat of his hand and you tremble at the sting. It’s the first attention your clit receives and the pain bleeds into a dull pleasure that settles in your core. 

"Answer me." 

You shake your legs anxiously. You and your ex never got the chance to take it any further than third base. He had already left you for another girl by then. One he could fuck any time he wanted. One that didn’t want to wait. 

“I’ve never… I’m…” you start. “I’ve never had sex before.” 

Changbin groans. You’re a virgin? His cock twitches at the thought of being the first man to fuck your pretty little cunt. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he echoes his earlier words. “I’ll ruin you for every man that comes after. Make sure you want nothing but my cock.” 

You whine at his words. You feel so deprived you could cry.

"P-please," you whisper. The neediness in your own voice disgusts you. 

"Please what? Please stop?" 

You shake your head meekly. "Please, sir, want your cock." 

Changbin laughs. "Such a spoiled little whore. Can't even pay me and now she wants my cock? What makes you think you deserve it?"  

He slaps your clit again, harder this time. You sob. 

“I-I’ll be good for you, sir.” 

“You better be. I spent a whole day fixing your car.” 

His strong arms hoist you up and he bends you over his desk, your hips hitting the hardwood tabletop. You hear him fumble with his zipper and then, without warning, you’re breached by his heavy cock. 

You cry out at the burning sting, the stretch bringing tears to your eyes. “H-hurts, ah, sir—” 

Changbin grunts and grasps your waist, setting a relentless pace. “You made a promise, sweetheart. Now pay me.” 

You whimper and sob as his thick girth stretches you open. It’s a foreign sensation, pain mingling with pleasure until the sting fades away and all you can feel is the tightening knot in your tummy. 

“You’re lucky no one else is here today to watch you getting fucked like a whore.” Changbin’s hands tighten their grasp. His hips snap into yours roughly, hard enough to bruise. “You fucking love this, don’t you?” 

You mewl in response. It’s impossible to think straight when he’s pounding into you like this. 

He laughs. “Who would’ve thought you’d be such a slut? Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Gets me so hard, princess. Gonna make you cream around this cock until you can’t take it anymore.” 

You’re crying and drooling all over his paperwork now. Your entire body burns in humiliation at getting fucked like this: bend over a desk in a repair shop, letting a stranger use your body for payment. 

But the worst part is that you’re enjoying every minute of it. 

“Make me cum, sir, please,” you’re begging him between sobs. You feel so high-strung you think you can snap at any moment. 

Changbin slaps your ass harshly and you cum with a cry, your cunt squeezing around him like a vice. He fucks you through it until you’re clawing at his desk. 

You gasp for air and try to squirm away from him. “Too much—sir, hhng, ahh—” 

He pulls out and grabs your limp body to turn you around and force you down on your knees. You look up at him with wide eyes, red-rimmed and makeup smudged from crying. 

“Look at what you do to me, sweetheart.” Changbin strokes your cheek and your shaky hands come up to guide his cock to your mouth. He’s fucked you so dumb you’d do anything to get more. 

He rests the tip on your lips before pushing past them and drool spills from the sides of your mouth as you choke around his cock. “I think I’ll keep you here for a while longer, princess. Until I say your debt is paid.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #changbin smut #changbin x reader #stray kids yandere #kpop yandere #dom!idol #sub!reader #tw: dubcon #;skz longfic

[jazjelspen]

leaving on wild charted waters [pt.5]

(what if our mc just got tired of Night Raven College and it's inhabitants?)

(what if our mc participates in RSA's annual ball!)

("filler" chapter/splashes of angst but it gets real more into the chapter/fluff/mc having fun/fleshing out RSA students/ basically the same author's note in pt 4 applies here/not proofread/oh and mc has like a few NRC scares here T-T)

(requested tags!: @vivianstar-blog2 @phantomcookiedough)

if you want to be tagged in future chapters please comment or message me! I will only tag you if you directly ask for it and i will only tag you once unless you ask to be tagged on all future chapters of a particular series. thank you to all those who asked for a part 5!)

the ball: part 2

(prepping)

three full weeks have passed since you first seeked refuge in RSA and now it's now a brand new day in the fourth week of your stay. it was the day of the highly anticipated ball!

it was the school's annual ball with students from all dorms joining together for a night of magic and music. many found this boring while others were excited for it. you were one of many that were excited for such an event!

you and your five best friends including a distant friend named Elias Ashes all came to visit the so called 'fairy godfather' of the school, Evan Bleu, a fourth year of RSA working towards his official fairy godparent license but for now is practicing by making wishes come true around the school here and there when the time is right. in this present moment every one of you were standing in certain parts of his dorm room while he stood there overlooking every one with a smile.

"seems like you all seven seem to be in need of my services! would I be standing correct if I said that you all are here for the ball?" all of you simultaneously nodded before Evan spoke up once again while clapping a bit in excitement "amazing! this'll be fun! now, would you all be kind to tell or show some elements of what each of you would like to wear tonight?" asked the platinum haired boy while scrunching up his sleeves to his elbows with a slim white wand in hand.

Alex first hummed while thinking before shrugging "not sure, something nice, fancy, comfortable. elements?... you put whatever you think fits me most." he gave Evan a small smile "giving you all the creative liberty as long as I look good, blue."

Evan chuckled as he nodded "I understand Alex, now who's next?"

immediately right after he finished speaking chirped in the light caramel haired boy, Elias, who raised his hand up as he spoke up second "oh! oh! me... please! I'd like something similar to what you usually give me!.. but with a different type of shoe fit for the occasion please. since last time I lost my left shoe in the middle of the dance..." 

"oooh I'm so sorry... yes I'll keep that in mind!" exclaimed the white haired boy in blue.

you then raised your hand third, still unsure of what exactly you liked as long as it was comfortable for the night. "uhm, I'd like to go next!--" you spoke up while Evan gave his full eyes and ears to you "perhaps something comfortable yet fun looking?.. I'd still like to look good without feeling heavy or too tired at the end of the night!" you smiled as you spoke as well as mentioning several other elements to your outfit that you'd like to wear and have on you for the occasion. 

Evan nodded and kept a mental note of what you wanted "a unique yet well established mix! I just know for a fact your outfit will be amazing!"

Neige then was next to speak, but anything he said became slowly muted in your ears since you felt two small set of eyes looking at you. you slowly turned your head towards the open window of the room to come face to face with a little bat. a bat that seemed very familiar but you couldn't exactly put your finger on it on where you remember it from. what made it even weirder was that it's beady little eyes were looking right at you when you slowly started to realize that you have never seen a bat on campus before. 'how weird..' you thought 'perhaps it's a pet, or it's from the courtyard..' you felt like you had it on the tip of your tongue but you really weren't sure. it did out nerve you though because the only other place you've seen bats around was in NRC, specifically Diasomnia.

but if the only place bats could come from is Diasomnia then... could it?..

no it couldn't be, no way-- they wouldn't be that crazy in sending a small mammal to find you and watch you right?-- right?? 

if so, poor bat. 

but also if so, you knew you'd be overly annoyed and irritated beyond belief. why couldn't they just leave you alone?? wasn't it clear enough with you leaving that you didn't want to be around them anymore!?...

even if you did miss them all to death. 

yet despite this you reminded yourself that you left for a reason. you left because no one helped you enough and most of the time you fended for yourself and Grim when no one looked your way when you asked for help. they insulted you belittled you and made you feel worthless. threw you in overblot after overblot to play therapist to all those affected with issues that weren't any of your business to begin with yet were dragged in anyway. you were forced to live in a haunted dorm with the floors creaking and ceilings at times caving in on their own-- sometimes the ghosts were helpful and kind at times but your bad first impression of the beginning of your experience tainted the rest of it.

then.. what even was there to miss?

'no, I can't go back. I came here for a way home and a place to stay where I won't have to risk my life every week or month. I can't do this to myself anymore.' you reminded yourself. 

you let out a deep sigh before you felt a sudden gentle shake of your arm, you snapped your head towards who that was at the same time you snapped out of your thoughts. the one who shook your shoulder was Rielle. 

"hey... you seemed to be staring at something outside but it flew away and you stayed staring at that spot.. you feeling alright?" your favorite RSA redhead spoke as we realized that everyone in the room looked at you worryingly. the feeling of all eyes on you made you shrink down a bit.

"im fine im fine just-- remembering some stuff from back at NRC.. it's nothing really I didn't mean to make any of you guys worry." you shrugged as you gave them a sheepish smile. "anyway, where were we?" you asked, but then everyone kinda had a confused look on their faces now.

"_____," Rielle spoke "we've all finished saying what we wanted to say, we're gonna go get a quick bite before getting ready and finally leaving for the ball."

you looked at him with wide eyes and a slightly gaped mouth, to which Chenya ever so politely with one finger pushed your jaw up to close your lips together. "was I zoned out for that long?.." 

"uhh-huhh.." Chenya intercepted "kinda scary to be hones-- yoWCH!"

Alex slapped Chenya on the arm for his comment and spoke with an irritated tone "he's lying _____ don't listen to a thing this fur-ball has to say." huffed the young man. 

"ahh well-- then let's get going then! so we can get ready and be on time for the ball!" you stood up from wherever you were sitting "and thank you very much for your time, Evan!" you spoke as you gave thanks to the boy in blue before you walked over to the door, the rest of your group rushing in getting up and speed walking towards the door with you. all but Elias whom seemed to wait till everyone left so he could leave himself.

Evan waved at all of you as you walked out "bye bye starshines! see you in a few!"

everyone else said or yelled their 'see ya' laters.

when you were all now away from the proximity of Evan's dorm room though Chenya decided to start speaking,

"he calls everyone 'starshine'... me-ow always thought it to be kinda cheesy dontcha think?-- yoWCH!"

"shut it cat, it's just his thing leave the poor guy be."

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

(getting ready)

the next few hours went by in a total blur. you all ate together while talking about school, common interests, and of course the ball. you all walked back to the Evan's dorm room to see a several group of students you recognized already walking out looking dashing and formal.

 once you all walked in it seems like Evan just finished up getting Elias ready-- and gosh was he sparkling like the night sky. "ah! hello everyone!" spoke our 'fairy godfather.' "come in! I just finished up my friend here so whomever is ready can come on next!" 

and the rest was also a blur but you clapped here and there for each of your friends who each looked flattering and stylish in their own unique ways with outfits that really suited their personalities. it wasn't until it was your turn to get ready that you fully now fully in the moment.

"now let's see... something comfortable yet fun.." mumbled Evan "let's try.. bibidi-babidi-boo." with a quick move of his wrist he pointed his wands towards you and a splash of tiny specs of stars engulfed your body to form the shape of your desired outfit. your hands almost covered your face as a reflex to shield yourself but quickly relaxed when you felt nothing but magic hugging you tightly before it dispersed and showed your outfit and-- it looked like something you'd only wish for in dreams. at first it was a bit weird to see yourself so formal after being in NRC for so long but you got used to it when you saw how it complimented all your features and your body type... and it felt hella comfortable!

except there was one thing missing...

Evan gasped as you poked a foot out "oh my! my apologies my dear" he flicked his wrist towards your shoes to change them to whatever pairs of shoes your heart wished for, along with some artistic contribution from Evan as well. 

your entire group either were stuck frozen staring(respectfully) or complimented you to death, overall everyone shared the same opinion: you looked absolutely amazing.

as everyone fell into chatter and were getting ready to leave and go out in about in new fabulous attire Evan had to announce one important thing "now remember everyone! spell only lasts until--"

"--the clock strikes twelve! we know we know blue, at twelve we all go back to normies." spoke Chenya as he tried to get comfortable in these formal clothes.

"very well then! now go on everyone, have fun! take lot's of pictures and make many memories! oh and don't forget to post on Magicam so I can see too!" the blue fairy waved you all off as you all walked out and cheered many 'thank you's and 'see you soon's in unison.

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

(the ball)

you all walked to the ball since the ballroom was in such close proximity to the dorms. you all joked around and playfully mingled in a buzz of pre-party excitement. as you all approached the entrance you and your friend group stared in awe at the glowing entrance and banner welcoming you all to RSA's annual ball.

Neige let out a small 'whoa' under his breath as he held his hands up together under his chin "I knew the fireflies were a nice touch!"

Raps nodded, "just wait until you see the murals inside!"

as you took your first steps inside you could truly feel your breath sucked out of your lungs... in a good way. 

the scene that stood before you inside was nothing but magically. the ballroom was very large and wide with various sets of tables that you all helped set up now being occupied by several groups of students at the ball. classical music played in the back as well as an empty dj booth waiting to be used beside the small yet very talented orchestra playing only a few main instruments. despite how far away they were from the entrance you could still hear the vibrant and elegant melodies play in and out your ears as if it were right beside you. various students from various different dorms were slowly starting to occupy many parts of the ballroom aside from the tables to either just stand in their own groups in the corners of the room or to just get food on the many side tables out on display for all to get. and when you looked up your mind just exploded even more with how beautiful the ceiling and wall murals looked thanks to you and Raps's team up. they looked similar to the vibrant and detailed church murals you've seen before except the paintings here were much more vibrant and rich in color and beauty. and we can't forget to mention the chandelier! with the light hitting each speck of glass hanging onto the chandelier it's like it emphasized the scenery and made the murals pop and look almost heavenly.

wow, you really had much to say about the event.

Rielle gently grabbed your wrist and carefully lead you to any empty table you guys could find with enough seats for the six of you to sit together, once you did you all made sure to leave a few items or coats to mark this as your spot.

"lets go get some grub now! all those sparkles and fancy outfits have made me hungrier than a hog." Chenya tittered before Alex and Raps each grabbed the cat's left and right arms individually to drag him to the table as they exclaimed 'you bet!'. 

Rielle was about to head over with the other boys until he noticed that you haven't moved, seeing you still a bit star-struck at all the flowers, paintings, lights, and all other decorations you all set up as a group made him smile softly. "not joining us, shrimpy?" he asked,

'shrimpy'... you swore you almost heard Floyd's voice ring in your ears.

"I'll--" you interrupted yourself immediately by snapping your head to look at him in a split second "what?.." an almost afraid expression contorted your face. 

Rielle immediately noticed this reaction and his heart cracked seeing that look on you "o..oh!-- I'm so sorry _____ I didn't.. know you wouldn't like it--" he then by reflex quickly but gently held one of your hands with a genuinely guilty look on his face "it's just-- it's silly really but you at times remind me of a little shrimp since y'know.. I grew up in the sea! but I didn't know it’d come off in a bad way! I’m truly sorr!—“

ahh right, now you remember. he's told you that he was originally born and raised a merman, just like those other three you used to know.

you immediately stopped him from talking by simply interrupting him "no no! of course not!--  look you didn't offend me at all it's just.. it reminded me of a nickname a..."friend"... from NRC called me too.." you paused only to smile warmly, which melted off that frown off the redhead's face. "but I like it better when you say it."

the young man nodded in understanding, feeling better now that you told him how you really felt as well as feeling a bit special. he gave your hand a bit of a gentle squeeze before he heard the voice of Chenya steadily coming closer and closer.

"hurryy Red! your favorite strawberries and cream that you like are at the dessert table and everyone's getting their grubby hands on them before youu! let's gooo!~" Chenya linked arms with Rielle before dragging him away from you, leaving your hand cold. 

"I..I'll be right back _____!" he exclaimed before being dragged further into the crowd by his cat-eared friend.

even if the moment was resolved fast, it still left you a bit spooked.

You waved them off before you took your seat at the table you all decided on staying until you looked to your side to see Neige. you thought he left with the others but I guess not. "oh! hey Neige, not eating either?"

Neige who was currently on his phone perked up at the mention of his name and gave his full attention to you "I will! just that-- I'm kinda a bit occupied with some comments on a specific post lately.. they've been really weird and all.. I closed comments but as im previewing what they said before--" he spoke as he eyed his phone with a weird look on his face. "I understand what they mean but-- I also just don't get it exactly."

"mind if I take a look?" you asked before he gave you a nod and a sweet smile and handing you his phone. you gently took it from his hands to see it was the picture that you and him took on Magicam, you scrolled down to meet with an enormous amount of comments that you could only assume to be from NRC students considering what they are saying..

"so they went to RSA?.. lol they really switched up on us.."

"traitorous much?..."

"ooo so this is why my house leader has been meaner than usual."

"all of our house leaders have been meaner than usual anon."

"lmao tf is that the prefect"

"y is the ramshackle prefect in rsa..."

"that explains why everyone is talking about a boat."

"they do know they just started a war, right?"

and this was just a few of what you were able to read.

god, these comments really weren't helping..

"ah.." you sighed as you were hit in the face with the realization that now not only does everyone know, but that they are not handling it well. honestly you were glad they were at war with themselves at your departure. all you wanted was to leave them to their own devices with you not having to tug them all back like rabid dogs. yeah, let them be at war. let them handle things themselves, it wasn't your job to apologize for everything they did. 

you wouldn't really call it a betrayal that you left, it was a necessary act to take care of yourself. so if they wanted to call you a 'traitor' because you left to find a better way back home then so be it.

"night raven students, guess my leave from there to here has got them in a buzz.." you shook your head as you huffed "ignore them Neige they are just so pressed because of your school and their school being rivals. nothing against you personally at all." you flashed him a gentle smile in hopes of turning his frown upside down "not only that, but we're at a ball!" you held one of his hands gently as you tried to stay optimistic "c'mon let's eat something fast then hit the dance floor once the dj starts! we will not let some students from across the sea ruin our night of fun."

Neige could feel himself sigh and let out a nice big smile at your words, since you were definitely right on that part, we couldn't let students that aren't even a few feet close to us ruin this night.

then just as fast as they left the rest of your group came back quickly with food! especially Chenya and Alex who both seemed to be balancing plates of food on their heads and arms.

"me-ow thought that maybe we'd bring your plates to you since both you lazy kittens didn't get up~" purred Chenya.

Rielle was the next to interact "here, your favorite!" he spoke sweetly before placing a dish you've grown to love in RSA right in front of you.

you thank him kindly, once everyone set their plates down and ate you and Neige silently agreed to ignore the comments that you read together. the thing is that you felt even more uneasy than usual.

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

(the needle)

after eating and the dance music started that's when all of you jumped onto the dance floor and stated jumping and dancing your faces off, even if some of you didn't even know how to dance or were not very used to it you all felt comfortable enough with each other to not even think about being judged. both music and blood were beating against your ears and the beat of your heart was hitting against your throat as you were dancing and jumping while all of you interacting and holding onto each other in the middle of the crowd of other RSA students that were enjoying their own times with their friends too. for once in your life you've felt free and full of healthy adrenaline. after months of having to play Cinderella at Night Raven College you were finally able to have your own night at the ball where no one could bother you anymore, no headmaster to boss you around and no upper or even lower class-men to ruin this for you anymore.

at least you really hoped this was the case tonight.

there was a moment where you felt a strong breeze from behind you, then another breeze, and another. it got to the point where you had to snap away from the excitement to now move your head towards whatever was that was basically flying beside you. you looked over at the side where you felt your last breeze and it was towards one of the open windows that were open to let in the fresh night air.

how odd.

it was a bat hanging from the top of the window, maybe the same bat that you saw recently?...

then there was a small yet very bright ball of light that shined right beside the bat as if accompanying it. anyone could've mistaken it for a small firefly but something was different, very off, it seems as if these two were watching you. what weirded you out more was that no one beside the windows noticed these two, almost as if it was only you who could see it.

you stayed there standing in the middle of the dancing crowds, you squinted your eyes to get a better view but all you could see was the little bat flapping it's wings as if motioning a 'come here' movement.

"hey ______! why're you standing our song is playing!" Raps exclaimed you out of your thoughts, you flinched a bit before giving them a small yet obviously forced smile to them all before responding back.

"oh! I.." you paused as your eyes flickered between your friends and the bat with the little bright light "I need to use the restroom! I'll be right back!--" you exclaimed right before you tried to squeeze yourself through to go straight to the window in hopes that your friends were too high on the dancing adrenaline to not notice you. when you got closer the bat it quickly flew out and darted to somewhere up higher..

the bright little light stayed for you to finally approach it, seeing how close you finally were this same light started to slowly fly towards a quick back exit from the ballroom where almost no one paid attention to. as it flew you could hear your name being faintly ushered by said light, this only piqued your interest even more and the faint tone of it's voice held a sense of familiarity to you. it caused your legs to then quickly catch up to it out the exit and swiftly walk out.

the light lead you to a brick wall behind one of the school's towers, the light seemed to phase through the wall before coming out again when it saw you didn't follow it. the small light slowly walked through the wall, following each step you took. you took a deep inhale, puffed out your cheeks, closed your eyes and walked right through the wall! when feeling no impact from it you then opened one of your eyes and let yourself exhale.

looking around your surroundings you see that it's all dark, a large and wide stone space with a small window above the ceiling that shined the moonlight towards the middle of the room where it rested a spinning wheel with the bright little light that continued to usher your name landing right on top of the tip of the spindle. your footsteps echoed and bounced across the room as you slowly approached the spinning wheel.. you watched the little light continue to glow and then seep itself into the needle of the spindle. your hand, without any of your control, then slowly reached towards the needle. it was slow with your conscious trying to stop it from moving but your hand continued to hover over the needle. right as you felt your finger graze the tip of it..a large puff of black smoke immediately engulfed and wrapped itself around your entire body.

until you felt a heavy weight lean and hold onto you, two arms around your waist, a face on your shoulder, black hair in your own face as well as the shadow of horns... very familiar horns.

"my child of man... I have you again."

oh.. no.

oh no.

(hope this came out alright! I don't know if I proofread this properly at all so I'll just count this as not proofread T-T hope it's still a nice chapter to start off the angst and drama that will seep in from NRC to RSA!)

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twst #twst #twst angst #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #disney twst x reader #twisted wonderland angst #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x yuu #twst yuu #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland yuu #twst rsa #twisted wonderland rsa #twistedwonderland #night raven college #twisted wonderland malleus #twst hcs #twistedwonderland angst #twst imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twst diasomnia #twst lilia #malleus angst #malleus x mc #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus x reader

[devildomditzy]

Pacts - Mammon x MC

part two of ?

haven’t read part one? start here!

done? finish the story here!

Tags: angst w/ eventual comfort, very small mention of blood/endangerment

author’s note + tag list at the end ❤️

——————————————————————————

“And so you see, that’s why it is vitally important that when practicing seductive speechcraft, you annunciate your words very clearly, and -

blah

blah

blah-”

Mammon stopped listening to this lecture awhile ago. In fact, he wasn’t even listening to begin with, how could he? His mind was too focused on you - mainly the fact that no matter how hard he looked around the House of Lamentation, he couldn’t find you, no hide nor hair. After you ran off, he walked towards the house, decidely not running after you. Setting off at a slow pace, he figured he’d give you some distance, some time to cool off. Upon his arrival, he knew he’d be the last demon in this place you’d want to speak to, but nevertheless, you’re his responsibility.

“Oi! Mc! Open up! C‘mon we can’t be late, Lucifer will light both our asses up,” he chides, knocking at your door three times. He waits a bit, only to be met with silence. “MC, I know yer in there, c’mon!”, he raises his voice, annoyance rising with each word. Still, nothing. He sighs, swallowing his pride. He knows what he has to do-

“Listen, if this is ‘bout what I said earlier I…I didn’t mean..i mean..its just…h-how childish can ya be, huh? Not answerin’s gunna get us both in trouble! Now come out!”

-but try as he might, he can’t do it. Why apologize? To the human of all people? The one who had the audacity to do something that caused his pact mark to show up there. Musta done it to make me look stupid to the others, he thinks to himself. Their idea of a joke.

Tired of talking to himself, he reaches a hand towards the doorknob and twists, surprised to find it unlocked. The second born walks into the center of the room, shoving his hands in his pockets. “If yer hidin’, ya can come out now. I’m gettin’ real tired of this game!”

After a minute of no response, Mammon thinks he may really be alone in the house’s guest room. He bends down to peer under your bed, finding it just as empty as the rest of your room. He tried the wardrobe with similar results.

He peeks into your closet, only to find various outfits you had picked up when Lucifer made him take you to Majolish in your first days here. He spots a jacket hanging in the corner.

That stupid jacket. The one you looked great in but weren’t convinced yourself. The one you timidly asked for his opinion on. The one that brought out the color in your eyes and made you smile to yourself in the mirror and kind of matched his own. The one he told you looked as bland as the rest of the stuff in your arms and that you were taking up to much of his time with just by asking a question. He remembers the hurt on your face, it was the same face you made to him this morning. He stares at it a beat too long before making to leave the room. He begins to feel an unpleasant anxiety in his stomach, and he can only assume it’s thanks to your disappearance. ‘M used to them bein’ around is all. Gotta find em before Lucifer freaks.

Now if you had a human from another realm wearing a royal demon academy uniform possibly harboring negative feelings towards their great, all powerful and totally breathtaking bodyguard, where would you put them? Mammon continues to repeat this question in his mind as he searches through the HOL’s most trafficked hangouts. Unfortunately for him, there was no sight of you in the kitchen, the foyer, the library, the common area, any of the bathrooms, the conservatory, or anywhere for that matter.

Annoyed, he takes out his D.D.D. and clicks on your most recent text thread with him.

Mammon: This is stupid! Where ya at!

Mammon: You said you were commin’ back to HOL, so why ain’t ya here?

Hearing the unmistakable ding of your D.D.D notification sound, he whips around to see where the sound came from, before realizing the source of the noise sat abandoned in the backpack around his shoulders. Tch.

Wish this dumb pact worked both ways, he thought to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. Why’d they have to be so difficult…

Why’d I have to go n’ open my stupid mouth.

With no way to contact you and no idea where you could be, Mammon storms off back to R.A.D. If Lucifer was gonna kill him for losing his new brat, he wasn’t gonna give him another reason to revive and kill him again by not showing up to school.

Which brings him to now, nervously shaking his leg while hiding his phone under the table, just in case one of his brothers texts him about you, or says anything about you. It begins to hit him, as he hears his professor drone on, that you’re human. A stupidly soft, extremely fragile, totally marked as food by demons other than the council, human.

What if while you were running back towards HOL, you got lost? What if while you were running back towards HOL, someone took you? What if while you were running away from him because everything he wants to say comes out wrong, someone hurt you.

He can’t take it anymore. He abruptly stands, practically running out of the classroom. “Young man, where do you think you’re going?”, the professor calls out to him, but Mammon chooses to ignore them, slamming the classroom door behind him. He needs to find you, and fast. He needs to know that you’re okay. He needs to protect you, because Lucifer told him to. He needs to protect you, because he wants to protect you.

Pacing in the hallway, he knows what he has to do, but doesn’t know if he has the strength to do it. “Dammit!”, he mutters as he clicks on the chat on his phone that contains all his siblings minus Lucifer.

Mammon: Have any of ya seen the human?

Levi: Us? Weren’t you supposed to be watching them?

Asmo: Oh dear! Don’t tell me you ran them off already!

Satan: How did you manage to lose a whole creature, let alone one that can talk and communicate exactly alike us?

Levi: Lol

Beel: I haven’t seen them. I’ll let you know if I do.

Mammon: Thanks, Beel. At least one of ya are helpful.

Asmo: That’s sad! I was soooo hoping I’d get a turn to play with them <3

Mammon: Can it, Asmodeus!

Satan: Pulling out the full names? You must really be upset.

Levi: Can’t you just text them?

Mammon: I can’t. They...forgot their phone in their room like some idiot.

Satan: My my, stealing from the exchange student already, are we?

Mammon: I didn’t steal nothin’ from ‘em. They just don’t have their phone on them, okay!?

Levi: Have you checked purgatory hall?

Purgatory hall…

Purgatory hall!

How could he be so stupid! Of course! Where else would a human run to when demons have hurt them? To the angels!

He moves faster than he has in a long time, not since the fall, until he finds himself in front of the door to the angel’s and shady sorcerer’s shared dorm room.

A raises a fist to knock but before he can, the door creeks open to reveal a smiling Simeon. Damn angel intuition. Though he beams brightly, the smile does not reach his eyes. He looks a bit sad, and maybe even…disappointed? “Mammon. We’ve been expecting you.”, Simeon courteously bows his head.

“Yea yea hey to you too ‘n all that. Listen, is the human here?”, Mammon questions while nervously drumming his fingers against his thigh. Simeon’s expression softens at the mention of you. “Why yes, they are, but they have been in brighter moods before. Would you care to come in and speak with them?”

Mammon peers around Simeon’s form in the door frame to see you sitting on one of the common room’s couches next to Luke. The chihuahua pours you some more tea from a pot on the table as you wipe at your eyes. The puffy redness under them tells him all he needs to know. He’d made you cry.

In that moment, his mind screams at him. He was awful. He was a scumbag. He was every horrible thing his brothers and those money hungry witches called him combined and-

“Mammon?”, your small voice rings out. Simeon steps aside and gestures for him to enter the room. It takes his mind a minute to catch up to his movements, but after a brief stutter he enters, walking towards your hunched over frame.

Simeon is quick to follow him, calling out to Luke, “Why don’t we go see Barbatos? If he’s not busy, we can see about learning that new recipe you’ve been looking forward to?”

“Yeah!”, Luke excitedly cheers, face falling when he turns back to you, “But-but MC is so sad! We can’t just leave them like this! I swear when I find out who made them cry, I’m gonna give them the what for!”

You give a small chuckle at the little angel’s antics. It’s the same smile that makes Mammon’s stomach fill with butterflies. Gah!- He hates that feeling. He doesn’t know what to do about it. How to make it go away.

“I’m fine Luke, I swear. I just had a rough morning is all. Go with Simeon, I’ve got to get back to class anyway.”

Luke looks to you, then to Mammon, before landing on Simeon. “What’s he doing here?”

“Could ask ya the same thing, Chihuahua!”, Mammon laughs before ruffling Luke’s hat into his hair, much at the angel’s dismay.

“I am NOT a CHIHUAHUA!”, he yells, increasingly becoming more red in the face. Simeon brings a hand to his mouth to hold back a laugh.

“Come along Luke, let’s give them some space. Solomon’s out, so please lock the door behind you when you leave,” Simeon gracefully states while taking Luke’s hand, guiding him out of the room. Before he leaves, he turns and winks at Mammon in a not so secretively way, as you catch it too. The action makes Mammon growl, but pulls another giggle out of you. The sound makes the butterflies stronger.

Mammon awkwardly stands in front of you, almost willing you to speak, like he was the one owed an apology. He shuffles his weight side to side, from one foot to the other before cramming his hands into his pockets. You shyly look away from him, but still reach a hand out to pat the cushion next to you, motioning for him to sit down. Stupid human, still nice to me when ya supposed to be mad. Despite his thoughts, he takes your offer, tense as he carefully sits next to you like a statue.

You both sit in silence for awhile, basking in each other’s presences. He wants to say something, anything to break the suffocating atmosphere you’ve both created here, but he can’t find the words. How can he when every time he looks at you his mind goes blank and his heart yearns to spill.

“Listen, I-” “You know-”

“You go first, Mammon”, you yield, allowing the second born to continue.

“Runnin’ off like that in the middle of the Devildom is dangerous! It’s crazy for a lower level demon, let alone some ballsy human. What would I woulda done if all I found of ya was a pile of bones? A trail of yer blood? Huh?” I thought I lost you.

“I-I can handle myself just fin-”

“Clearly. Is that why you went and made a pact with a demon? One of hell’s lords? Cause ya can handle everything by yerself? Cause ya so big and strong by yerself?” I’m supposed to protect you.

“T-that’s not fair, Levi coerced me-”

“And then ya ran to the angels when you were upset? Whadda they have that we don’t? What can they do that we can’t?” What can they do for you that I can’t.

“You said our pact mark was a blemish-”

“It is! Who the hell would want the symbol of some good for nuthin’, money grubbin’ scumbag like me on their heart! It should be Lucifer’s, o-or Beel’s, or…someone else. Anyone else.” I’m not worthy of you.

“Mammon,” your voice shakes, but remains sickly sweet. You place a hand over top his. His face shoots up to meet your gaze. The butterflies are swarming like crazy.

“If you hate our pact that much, if you hate where the sigil formed that much, let’s ask Lord Diavolo how to break it-”

“NO!”, Mammon shoots up to his feet, running a hand through his hair to calm his nerves. He can hear a similar waver in his own voice. “No, no that’s not what I meant. Tch! Why doesn’t it ever come out right! I swear when it comes ta you i just-”, Mammon sighs, trying to calm himself down. His face is beet red, he just knows it and father, do you have to look at him like that? With a face full of kindness and concern and love for him, the expression that you only give him and none of his brothers and none of the angels and none of the royals and no one else but him.

“MC, do ya know what it means when a pact mark forms there?”

——————————————————————————

Author’s Note: Gaaaah!!! Thank you all so much for your response on this series! It’s been kinda insane! I’m really thankful for all your notes and I’ve read every tag that was left for me. You’re all so sweet! This should have at the very least one more part, so please let me know if you want to be a part of the tag list for part 3! 

Taglist: @someoneunkownforyou @fandomhell97 @crocrafts @dragonageoregons @furblrwurblr @youaskedfurret @simpinginthecorner @astarotha @glitterandgoldfinds @liminalimmortal @bestblob @crow-charlie @hauntedcatnerd @aprilwallflower @ungodlywoes

#om #omswd #omswd mammon #om mammon #mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #mammon x y/n #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x y/n #obey me shall we date #mammon headcannons #obey me headcannons #obey me fic #om mc #obey me mc #obey me drabbles #mammon drabble #mammon angst #mammon fic #mammon headcannon #the great mammon

[featherdusterbelphie]

Stay With Me

A/n: got inspired by Luci's part, so I decided to rewrite both his and Dia's (not much of a rewrite tho haha (꒪⁠ヮ⁠꒪")). Can be read as romantic/platonic, poly/not and reader is genderless like the rocks (except if you count 'you/your/yours' because this is in 2nd person POV). Title from Miki Matsubara♡

Tags: slight angst and fluff. spoilers for the 4th lesson of the absolute zero event

Word count: 1.8k words total.

Lucifer

It was more than odd that Lucifer would lead you to the House of Lamentation's garden as opposed to the different places around the Devildom that the others took you to. Even more so when you spot a decent looking ice fort between two bushes of the once blooming Hellfire Roses and Hell Roses that you once helped replant in the summer.

You don't remember ever having built a snow fort before, so this must be recent. It's very quiet here, when everyone's out somewhere in the Devildom to prepare for the Frost Flower Festival. Though you suppose finding comfort in solitude isn't surprising for the eldest brother.

"Everyone must have dragged you around town by now. I figured you might be tired, so I built a snow fort in the garden for us." You both know that isn't the only reason, but you shake it off to spend time with the eldest brother.

Lucifer gestured for you to enter first. "It's much warmer inside, go in."

Crouching down to semi-crawl through the opening, you enter into a well-lit snow space. On the floor are layers of rugs and blankets to keep warm. There are no windows and the only way out is the entrance. A low table sits in the middle, with a thick blanket draping down the sides. On top of it is a heat lamp and a tea set with steam wafting out of the cups. You immediately crawl over to the table and bring your legs under it, sighing in relief at the warmth. Lucifer was right, this is exactly what you needed after all of that walking and stressing. Not to mention all the work you put into the festival.

"This is a furniture I brought home from the human world in one of my business visits. I believe it is called a 'kotatsu'," Lucifer explains as he also crawled into the snow fort and settled into the table. "I stayed at a local inn during a harsh winter like this and they had this inside each of their guest rooms. I bought one and only just remembered we had it tucked away in the storage room."

"Please, help yourself with some tea." You nod, bringing your hands to hold the cup, taking small sips as the steam ghosts over your nose. It tastes very floral and heavy, spreading a nice warmth from through your throat and down your stomach. You set down the cup but keep your hands wrapped around it as you let out a breath, letting it cloud over your face.

Unfortunately, the open entrance brings in a cold breeze that elicits a shiver down your spine, your hands unconsciously start rubbing your arms to find warmth. Lucifer chuckles as he leans forward on the table. "Are you still cold, MC? If so, I can warm you in my arms. What do you say?"

You roll your eyes and sarcastically reply, "it's so cold. The White Wolf won't need to freeze me because I'll already be a frozen sculpture by that time."

He smirks at your sarcasm, finding it amusing, "Hmm, well we wouldn't want that. Come here." He leans back and pats his lap, "you can sit on my lap."

You grin, crawling over to his side of the table and sitting on his lap, your side resting against his chest as his arms wrap around you. You wrap your arms around his torso and close your eyes, laying your head on his shoulder as you let out a content sigh. "Lucifer, you're so warm."

Lucifer tried his best not to smile, instead forcing his mouth to frown as he scolded you. "No falling asleep on me." But it didn't hold much against your peaceful face and your warm body against his. You felt so precious like this, so perfect. His eyes soften as he mutters under his breath, "....well, I suppose I wouldn't mind having you like this for a while."

It was quiet for a while then, with only the sound of the winds howling outside and the beat of Lucifer's heart in your ear. Lucifer wishes these moments could last longer, wishes that things didn't go the way they did. His arms tighten around you at the memory, and you open your eyes to look up at his tense expression. There's something that's bothering him, and you know exactly what it is.

His voice lowers, tone heavy with someone who has experience loss before and is going to experience it again. "Should we end up losing the House of Lamentation, I promise to find a way for us all to live together again."

You sit up straighter on his lap, looking into his wistful red eyes. "You better. I don't want to be separated from any of you at all."

He looks down at you, and the glimmer in his eyes makes your heart swell. He brings his hand up to caress your hair, pushing stray strands away from your face. "Me neither. I have no intention of giving you away to someone else, especially if I cannot be certain that you will be safe. I will ensure that you can rest easy by my side. Is that understood, MC?"

You nod and Lucifer smiles softly, his soft lips brushing your temple in a gentle kiss, "Good. Now, I want you to stay with me for a few more minutes. I'm sure Diavolo will forgive you if you're a little late."

Diavolo

You were, in fact, more than a little late. Though something about Diavolo's smile tells you he doesn't mind. He takes you to a nearby parlor, arms linked and a smile on his face. He leads you to a part of the parlor that is more secluded, more private. There is a long table filled with various ingredients and toppings, as well as a giant sherbet dispenser with various flavors.

"We can make our own original sherbet for the Frost Flower Festival here." He explains. He turns to you, putting his other hand on top of the one you're using to hold onto his arm, smiling at you. "What do you think about making a sherbet parfait for everyone of our friends?"

"Are we going to eat all of them?" You ask, uncertain about the idea. Sure, you love food, but even then that was a lot of sherbet. Even if it was divided between the two of you, you don't exactly like the idea of being frozen from the outside and the inside.

Diavolo laughs, his hand waving away your worries, "Take out is an option. We can eat all the parfaits together later if we want. That would make a wonderful memory as well."

You nod, relieved, going over to the table full of assorted ingredients, looking for something specific for your first parfait. You spot a bowl of crushed hellfire mushroom cigar cookies and a bowl of custard filling that you mix with red food dye, using them to make the parfait part. You go over the dispensers and put a Tartaros mango-flavored sherbet on top. To finish off your dessert with a swirl of lemon and strawberry syrup with two pieces of wafers shaped like horns as decoration.

Diavolo was watching the whole thing, and his heart swells with a warmth that could only be ignited by you as he realized what you were making. "You made my parfait? I love it, it looks delicious." He grins and turns to the table, brimming with excitement with each move he makes. "Then I'll make yours."

And that was how you spent the rest of the day with the demon prince. You each take turns making special sherbet parfaits reminiscent of everyone you love, sometimes making a mess and enjoying each other's company. The cheerful music dances around you both, creating a warm and joyful atmosphere.

Diavolo would sometimes stare at you as you work, intrigued and impressed with the ingredients and design you come up with for everyone of your friends. The Lucifer one he thinks turned out incredibly adorable and fitting for the firstborn. At some point, while making Simeon's, he thought about inviting you over to the Demon King's Castle to do this with you again. Maybe it wouldn't be sherbet parfaits, and maybe you would only be making desserts for yourselves, but as long as you two were hanging out like this again Diavolo would be happy.

Again. The word triggered something in the demon prince as he almost let go of the bowl of crushed dried hell blossom lilies that he wanted to use. His thoughts trailed over to the Winter Wolf and what would happen later, his hands starting to shake as his brows furrow.

When it came to Raphael's parfait, you came at a road block. You don't know much about the angel, other than he's the only other being that can stomach Solomon's cooking other than you, so his sherbet parfait is a bit difficult to make. You stand there, hand on your chin, trying to think when someone's voice cuts off your thoughts.

"...I won't let you go, no matter what." You turn to Diavolo, surprised at his sudden outburst. He is already looking at you, a sudden seriousness on his face that only comes when discussing about things that pained him. "As the future demon king and as someone dear to me, I will not allow any harm to happen to you." His eyes soften, a touch of worry creases his eyebrows. "I hope that our wonderful memory together reaches the White Wolf of Flowers. If it does not, then I might not know what I or the others will do if it turns awry."

You put down the two sticks of Gehenna licorice you were holding to engulf Diavolo's hand in both of yours, smiling at him, "It will, and if it doesn't, I will make sure of it."

He stares in your eyes, quiet. Slowly, a large grin erupts on his face as he wraps you in a tight hug. His chin lays on the top of your head, "You are very special, MC. Not only to me, but for everyone as well. Thank you for sticking with us, thank you for understanding us. We will all not be here without you. We will not be who we are today if not for you."

"I love you, MC."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #obey me diavolo #obey me absolute zero event #obey me spoilers #kinda #obey me angst #obey me fluff #my stuff #obey me fic #diavolo x reader #lucifer x reader #diavolo x mc #lucifer x mc #lucifer & mc #lucifer & reader #diavolo & mc #diavolo & reader

[blueraineshadows]

Blood Bound Part Four

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

MC digs deep as she faces her darkest hour, whilst Leander wrestles with his moral compass. Sebastian catches up with an old friend.

Words: 13.5k

Tags: NSFW / violence / angst / mentions of death / grief / depression / organised crime / manipulation / bound prisoner

Chapter Master List and Ao3

Mutuals tag list at the end ✨️

Four: Pirouette in the Dark

Leander

There was no denying it. Leander felt sick. His stomach was a twisted knot of anxiety and he kept having to rub his forehead with his hand, certain that his nerves were written all over his face as he sat at his desk trying to go through the Rookwood files. The words on the parchment kept rolling into each other, and none of it made sense. His thoughts wrapped up in the memory of last night in the questioning chamber.

Whatever truths MC had stashed away in her head, they were locked tight behind a pact that would kill her if she spoke about them. A blood pact with Sebastian.

Leander clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together as he thought about Sebastian running free whilst MC lay withering in her cell. What were they hiding? Did MC love Sallow that much that she was willing to take the risk of dying for him?

The thought made Leander feel like an utter fool. He had sat on the frigid floor of the prison, holding MC in his arms while she cried, her hands clutching at his clothing in a death grip. She was crying over that smug bastard, a scar on her palm marking her as his forever, and yet Leander was sitting at his desk, sweating and nauseated because he was considering risking everything to save her life.

Deep down, it wasn't even a choice. Even if MC found her way back to Sallow one day, he still felt it was worth saving her. She had never been his in the first place. He was just a comfort in a dark place. He knew that. He would still save her, though, the fool that he was. He had to. Who else was going to?  

Odessa walked behind his chair, leaning across to place a cup of steaming tea down onto his desk, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. “There you go, Prewett. You look like you need a good, strong tea. Is everything alright?”

Eyes tight with tiredness from the lack of sleep, Leander lifted his gaze up to Odessa with a strained smile of thanks. “I’m fine,” he lied. “Just trying to refresh my mind on these notes before heading out this morning. I’m meeting Harrington in half an hour.”

“You don’t look fine,” she said softly, giving his shoulder a squeeze as she perched herself on the edge of his desk. Her brown eyes travelled over his face, and she smiled fondly. “You work too hard, Prewett. I admire your dedication, though.”

Warmth crept into his cheeks, and his gaze flickered back down to the open file on his desk, his Auror badge feeling rather heavy in his pocket at the thought of what he was planning to do. He wouldn't exactly call it dedication to the job. 

“This case is important. Harrington could have picked anyone to join, so I need to make sure I’m putting in the effort,” he said, nervously licking his lips.

“I’m not knocking your efforts,” she said, leaning in a bit closer. He met her gaze, his blush darkening even further at the glint in her eyes. “Just don’t overwork yourself, that’s all. All work and no play and all that. Perhaps we should go out for a drink one evening and blow off some of the steam. What do you think?”

Odessa McKinnon was a very attractive young lady, confident and bright. She was popular with his fellow colleagues, and here she was leaning over his desk and asking him out for a drink. His pulse was fluttering and he felt his familiar awkwardness creeping in, making him swallow hard as he considered her offer. He should be leaping at the chance, and yet his head was consumed by images of large haunted eyes, the first blossoming hope of trust shining from them as MC had said goodbye to him last night at her cell door.

But Odessa could never know about that. It was a secret for him to keep safely tucked away in that soft space behind his ribs.

“Erm…sure. That sounds lovely,” he said, nodding, the knots in his stomach twisting up even further. Attainable, beautiful, and offering him a chance to spend time with her. How could he say no to that? 

Her smile was slow and full of lingering promise as she stood, his eyes following her as she walked towards her own desk, leaving the delicate scent of her perfume lingering behind her. It had been a while since he had courted anyone, and Odessa was certainly a tempting prospect.

Blowing air through his lips, Leander rubbed his face with his hands and checked his pocket watch. He needed to collect the Veritaserum from the potion dispensary before heading out to meet Harrington, the thought of having such a thing in his possession making his throat close up. Tucking away his file, he stood and grabbed his robe. It was time to go.

As the glass bottle of truth serum was handed to him, he felt the shiver travel down his spine at what this could mean for MC. He shoved it deep into his pocket, striding for the bathrooms, fighting the urge to glance over his shoulder. His neck prickled as though someone was watching him, his own guilty conscience making his hands tremble as he entered a toilet cubicle and leant back against the wall. 

Months of training, hours of studying to pass the NEWT exams to even get onto the Auror program in the first place, and here he was considering risking it all. He took out his Auror badge, polished to a shine, the pride of such a thing being in his possession making his chest swell. He had always been second best at everything, but this had been earned through hard work and sheer determination to succeed. His mother had squeezed him so tightly, her words of happiness at his achievement still fresh in his memory. 

He bit his lip, letting the badge drop back into his pocket before taking out the bottle of Veritaserum and holding it up. He turned it in his fingers. MC’s potential death, right here in his hands. 

Not if he had anything to do with it.

He pulled the stopper out and held the bottle over the toilet bowl, his fingers trembling as he took a shaky breath and poured the contents out. He watched it trickle down, breathing hard and fast as he reached up to pull the chain, the swirling flush taking the potion away into the water sewers beneath the Ministry building. 

Swallowing through the tightness in his throat, his heart thudding at a reckless pace, he wiped the back of his hand against his forehead. Moving fast, he hurried to a sink and rinsed the bottle out well, making sure to get rid of any lingering potion because just a few drops would be enough to make MC talk. He shook the bottle, wiping it dry before taking out another small bottle from his pocket. The liquid inside was similar in colour and consistency to the truth serum but utterly harmless, just a sugary syrup. Nobody would be able to tell the difference. Pouring it into the truth serum bottle, he replaced the stopper and eyed it nervously. He was tampering with an investigation.

They would have his badge for this. 

Shoving it back into his pocket before he could change his mind, he straightened his tie and took a deep breath. Whilst every instinct inside of him hated the thought of breaking the rules, there was no way he could stand by and watch MC die. It wasn’t right. He left the bathrooms with a straight back, head held high, making his way to the atrium and the fireplaces to meet Harrington. 

….*....

Apparating into the Auror reception chamber of Azkaban, Leander signed in quickly and slipped his hand into his pocket to fiddle with the potion bottle as Harrington did the same. His colleague looked grim, scratching thoughtfully at stubble on his chin. 

“What's the plan, then?” Leander asked, gripping the bottle in his pocket. “Are we pushing the Rookwood angle?” 

“Hmm, yes, about that,” Harrington said, his brow furrowing. “I've just had a tip off from one of my chaps on the ground. There are rumours that Rookwood is considering a prison break.” 

Leander’s eyes widened, his thoughts racing as he recalled details from the files. “A prison break? Do you think he is going to attempt a rescue on Harlow?” 

“Not Harlow,” Harrington said, ignoring the Wand Weigher as he strode towards the door. He gave Leander a look through narrowed eyes. “Harlow is no longer useful to Rookwood. Not now he has Amos Carrow based in London. No, I think he has his sights set on someone far more powerful.” 

Leander paused at the door, his heart jumping behind his ribs. “Not MC,” he said, shaking his head. 

Harrington gave him a meaningful look. “Who else? I told you not to trust her, lad. If they break her out and she joins the Ashwinders, with all that ancient magic she can wield, Rookwood would be unstoppable.” 

“MC hates Rookwood,” Leander said, shaking his head more firmly. “She would never join them.” 

“She would join Sebastian Sallow, though, wouldn't she?” Harrington said, slipping his wand out as they entered the gloom of MC’s wing. “And guess who has been sighted in the Black Rose pub? Sallow tried a few years back to plead her case and get her out. Now, he has the backing of Ashwinders. I'd bet my last galleon they are coming for her. Or at least, they are going to try. It's a good thing we got the warrant for the truth serum. We can get some decent information out of prisoner 2757 at last.” 

Leander paused in his step, ignoring the shouts from the other prisoners as his mind raced, his eyes fixed on the black stone beneath his boots. MC might hate Rookwood, but she was blood bound to Sebastian, her revelation last night making it highly possible that she would join him if released from this prison. 

And he had just switched out the potion to prevent any truth from leaving her lips. Had he just majorly fucked up? Had he let his emotions rule his head after all, and placed too much trust in her? His chest constricted and he swallowed down the flutter of panic.

“Nobody breaks out of here,” he said thoughtfully, rubbing his fingers against his forehead. “They would be foolish to try.” 

“Indeed,” Harrington said, pausing before they arrived outside of MC’s cell door. He looked up at Leander, his face firm. “She has to be in deep with Rookwood. I just need to get that link to him out of her, and she won’t be getting out of this place any time soon.”

Fiddling anxiously with the fake potion in his pocket, Leander nodded, his eyes drifting towards the cell door behind which was a girl he'd just put his neck on the line for. It didn’t matter how many drops of this solution they put into her mouth. She could say whatever she wanted. 

What if his foolishness led to the first ever successful escape out of Azkaban? A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck at the thought. His Auror badge felt heavy in his pocket, mocking him for allowing a girl to get so far under his skin that he could end up taking a fall for her.  

Sebastian

There was one thing you could say about Ominis Gaunt. He had style. It didn’t matter what the occasion was. He always looked immaculate and self-assured. Even if behind those strange yet bewitching eyes, there was a maelstrom of emotion brewing. Sebastian had often envied his cool, collected aura, his icy demeanour often hiding the wicked temper that simmered beneath. Sebastian had been on the receiving end of that temper many a time, and yet he dared to be just as cheeky as ever with his old friend.

“You took your time,” Sebastian said, straightening from the wall he had been leaning against whilst waiting. He adjusted his flat cap, eyes flicking along the pathway that led on past the building at the edge of the park, city people dawdling along in the early autumn sunlight. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

“Hello, Sebastian,” Ominis said, coming to a pause in his step. He carried a cane in his right hand, the head of which was a Thestral disguising his wand, his means of navigating a bustling city such as London. He could not see without his wand, and so subtlety was required under the gaze of thousands of Muggles. “You’re lucky I did come. After receiving your owl, I was tempted to just ignore it considering the long months of no word from you. Anne thought you may have perished.”

“I’m surprised she even cares,” Sebastian muttered, his brow darkening with a frown.

Ominis huffed a sigh, leaning on his cane, his long dark coat cut with the finest cloth, his shoes impeccably shining, and his hair a neat sweep of dark blonde. Always fine featured as a boy, the man was classically handsome, his cheekbones utter perfection. Combined with his fine attire and his haughty manner, Ominis was very much the image of a blue blooded English gentleman. He even wore a black pair of fine leather gloves.

Sebastian was dressed in black from head to toe, sturdy boots instead of fine shoes, his coat more practical than fancy, and his brunette hair was a mop of chaos still in need of a cut. His collar was turned up, and his cap worn low in an attempt to disguise himself against potential lurking Aurors. He figured they cut an interesting pair here in this London park, but there was no way he would risk arriving at his old friend’s home lest he run into his twin. 

“Anne cares too much about your sorry behind,” Ominis said, shifting his stance so that his wand could get a better look at Sebastian. “I told her to give up a long time ago, but she still insists you will change.”

Sebastian smirked. “I’ll change when she does.”

“Then we are doomed to be at war for all time,” Ominis sighed. He shifted his cane to his other hand, holding his right hand out to shake. “Nevertheless, it is good to hear your voice, Sebastian. I hope you are well.”

Sebastian took hold of Ominis’ hand, but instead of shaking it, he pulled the man closer, wrapping his arms about him and squeezing tightly. A wave of deep affection rolled over him, the loneliness he kept hidden behind his ribs ripping open like a raw wound as he inhaled the scent of his childhood friend. It made his throat tighten and his heart squeeze as he felt Ominis stiffen, and he wondered if he was going to be unceremoniously shoved back, but then arms came around him, holding him in return. 

“Hello, old friend,” Sebastian said, his voice thick with emotion. “It is so good to see you, too.”  

….*....

Coming to a pause beside the large lake, a bevy of swans gathered at the water's edge, Sebastian felt a shift in the mood between himself and Ominis. His friend's face had grown even more serious as he tilted his head, his eyes shifting as he faced the lake. 

“So then, we walked a fair way around this park and exchanged enough pleasantries. What is it that you really want, Sebastian? You didn't suggest this meeting for small talk, so let's have it,” Ominis said shrewdly. 

Sebastian nodded, pressing his lips together as he gazed out across the lake, the ever growing sprawl of the city laid out beyond it. 

“You know me too well, Ominis,” he sighed. His gaze flicked back towards his friend, appraising his familiar profile. “I wanted to ask about someone you may come across whilst inside the Ministry. You don't share an office. However, you may hear of him. At least, that's what I am hoping for.”

Ominis arched an eyebrow. “Well, who is it?” 

“Prewett,” Sebastian replied. “Do you have any dealings with our old Gryffindor peer?” 

“Prewett? My goodness, that's a name from the archives,” Ominis said, lips pursing in thought. “I believe he entered the Auror profession, but I can't say I cared to follow up on his career. We weren't exactly close at Hogwarts. Why in Merlin's name are you interested in him? You taunted the boy endlessly at school. I can't imagine for one moment you want a jolly catch up with him.” 

Sebastian’s habitual smirk graced his lips as he remembered their school days, moments of boredom turning into amusement as he wound Prewett up. Leander was easily riled if you knew what strings to pull on, and Sebastian took delight in finding out what made the Gryffindor lose his temper and become flustered. It had all been meant as good fun, though. He had not felt anything malicious towards the boy.

“He is an Auror, you're right,” Sebastian said, keeping an eye on those walking on the pathway behind them, checking for eavesdropping or suspicious, loitering spies. “I've heard he is working on a case that is of particular interest to me, and I wanted to do my homework on him.”

Ominis turned his head in Sebastian’s direction, his face darkening with irritation. “Please tell me you are not meddling in British Auror Office business, Sebastian. Has this got something to do with that despicable band of criminals you call friends these days?” 

“They are definitely not my friends,” Sebastian grumbled, rolling his eyes. “They are merely a means to an end.”

“It always is with you, isn't it?” Ominis huffed. “You invited me here today to meet, but only so you can pick my thoughts over a fellow member of the Ministry. Prewett is doing honest work, Sebastian. I shall not encourage you to cast a shadow over it with your inability to stay out of trouble.”

Sebastian groaned and put a hand over his eyes, rubbing them before throwing Ominis a look of exasperation. “I didn't ask for a lecture,” he complained. “Do you see Prewett or not? That's all I am asking.”

“No, I don't,” Ominis said firmly, his grip tightening on his cane. “And even if I did, I would not send you after him. Why can't you just stick to a decent path, Sebastian? Why does there always have to be a drama or an ulterior motive with you? What is it you want from Prewett anyway?” 

Sebastian’s face darkened as he pouted in disappointment, frustration making his hands fist tightly at his sides. 

“I've spent the last few days trying to track Prewett down with no luck,” he grumbled. “I'm getting desperate, Ominis. He has information I need. Do you know of anyone else who might be able to get me closer to him? I tried Weasley, and he played dumb. Please, Ominis. This is important.” 

“What could possibly be so important that you need Prewett's help?” Ominis stepped closer, his brow creased in concern. “Are you in trouble?” 

Sebastian swallowed. He knew that if he brought the truth of the matter up, Ominis would likely enter into another rant, but the yearning in his chest was becoming unbearable now that he was finally so close to seeing her again. 

“Don't get all pissy with me, alright?” He said, carefully, and the frown on Ominis’ face deepened. “Just try to understand. This means something to me, Ominis.” 

“Go on,” Ominis said tightly. 

“Don't ask me how I know this, but Prewett has been speaking to MC in Azkaban,” Sebastian said carefully, biting his lip as Ominis’ mouth tightened.

He hated the pleading tone that was creeping into his voice, but he couldn't help it. Ominis was the only one he could dare to show any vulnerability in front of, and this meant too much to just walk away without trying. “This is the closest I have been in four years to knowing anything. She's alive, and I just want to know, Ominis. I need to know that she is alright.” 

The look on Ominis' face was hard, echoes of disappointment and defeat written all over it. 

“Is this genuine concern, or is it just your guilty conscience weighing heavy on you?” 

Sebastian flinched as though struck, and he looked out across the lake, the lead ball that he carried everywhere in his chest swelling and threatening to choke him up. It smothered all the hope he had pinned on this meeting.

“I haven't forgotten the past, Ominis. I carry it every day,” he said bitterly. “It wasn't me that put MC in that hell hole. It was Anne.”

“Anne was just trying to protect you,” Ominis insisted. “We have been through this so many times, and I am tired of being stuck in the middle of two stupidly stubborn Sallows.” 

Sebastian put his hands to his head, almost tempted to rip the cap from it so he could tug at his hair, but he needed to remain inconspicuous. Frustration was burning through him. Ominis was right. They had been over this so many times, and each rehash just woke up the bitter sting of his twin's betrayal. She had thrown MC to the wolves, blaming her for everything and leaving Sebastian alone. 

“I want her back! MC was the only one who understood me, and she was taken from me. Please, Ominis,” he begged. “If there is the slightest chance of getting her out of there and back with me where she belongs, then I'm going to snatch it with both hands. You'd do that for Anne, wouldn't you? You wouldn't stop until you knew she was safe. That's all I want, Ominis. I want MC to be safe.” 

“And you think that you can give her this safety?” Ominis shook his head. “How do you know she would even want that? It has been years, Sebastian. Four very long years in a place so dark and horrifying that even those who get out never truly escape. She might not even remember who she is, let alone you.”

“Don't say that,” Sebastian said, eyes burning as he refused to even imagine that possibility. “If Aurors are talking to her, then she must be alright. I have to believe that.” 

Ominis was quiet for a moment, sightless eyes staring off as he thought things over. 

“How did you even find out that Aurors are talking to MC?” 

“It's probably better if I don't tell you that,” Sebastian admitted, his booted feet shifting on the ground. 

Ominis sighed, a graceful hand lifting to press long fingers against his temple. “How do you get yourself into these situations,” he muttered. “I suppose you would prefer me to lie to my wife as well and not tell her about this little discussion.”

“What good would come of Anne knowing? It would be just another reason for her to make a dig at me.” 

“You act as if you are the only wronged party here, Sebastian,” Ominis said quietly. “I was there, remember? You may have dealt the final curse, but MC was dealing out the curses just as much as you were. Did you expect it to all go unpunished? MC may be the one serving the time, but if not her, it would be you in there. If the role was reversed, would you have not done the same for Anne? Anne was trying to protect you. You can not blame her for that.”

“Anne didn't have to do anything but keep her mouth shut,” Sebastian muttered stubbornly. “There was no need for either of us to go down. What if Solomon had killed one of us? Would she have turned him in? Does she forgive him for attacking us the way he did?”

“Nobody needed to die that day,” Ominis hissed, his eyes narrowing. “If you had only listened and left the dark alone, Sebastian, then none of this would have happened. MC wouldn't be in Azkaban, and you would be a respectable wizard rather than running around with no-good Ashwinders.” 

“So, you're not willing to help me,” Sebastian said flatly, staring at his old friend. 

Ominis sighed and turned, tapping his cane against the ground as he shook his head. “I shouldn't. I don't agree with your life choices, you know that, and I love Anne. I stand with her, always.” 

Sebastian couldn't stop the sneer that curled his lips. “She always was your favourite.”

“I love her!” Ominis turned, his face a little flushed and tight. “I've always loved her, and it is because of that love that I even put up with this tiresome rift between you. A rift over a girl who came into our lives and turned everything upside down.”

“A girl that I love,” Sebastian said, his fingers moving to touch the red scar that marred his palm. “I hate that she is out of my reach, Ominis. I miss her every day, and I am not going to just give up on her. Whatever it takes. I'm going to get her back, with or without your help. I know you love my sister, but I hope that you care for me also. You are my oldest friend, Ominis. My brother, if not in blood, then in bond. Nobody else comes close.” 

Ominis closed his eyes, bowing his head as he took a deep breath. “Fine,” he said at last. He lifted his head, his gaze eerily accurate as he looked at Sebastian. “If you want to find Prewett, try speaking with Andrew Larson. Do you remember him?”

Sebastian thought for a moment. “The quiet Ravenclaw boy?” 

“Yes, that’s him. We meet up sometimes to play cards. He works as a research officer in the Auror office. He gathers and files evidence, that kind of thing. I'm sure he must see Prewett. You can often find him at the tea shop in Diagon Alley, or failing that, he likes to visit the British Museum library on a Saturday. The man always has a book on his person. Much like yourself.” 

Sebastian felt his hope flicker back into life at the faint smile Ominis gave him, stepping forward to take hold of his friend by the upper arms. He held a deep affection for him, and he never should have doubted that he would come through for him. 

“Thank you,” he said, almost breathless with relief that he finally had a lead. 

“Don't get Andrew into trouble, mind,” Ominis warned. “He is a decent fellow. A good friend, too. Don't make me regret telling you this.” 

“You have my word, old friend, and that is one thing you know I always keep,” Sebastian assured him, a grin beginning to take shape on his lips. 

MC

There was no sunlight this morning, and the strip of daylight seemed to shift across the dark stone of her cell at a sluggish rate. MC was huddled on her ledge, her arms wrapped around her knees and her eyes staring towards the iron bars of her cell door. She was waiting for the footsteps, waiting for them to come and drag her to her death. 

Flexing her fingers, she lamented the lack of sizzling magic in her veins. Resigned to the possibility of dooming Sebastian to a sentence within these same horrifying walls, she had struggled to make even the faintest flicker of magic appear at her fingertips. Her chest felt hollow, empty, a black hole yawning where her warm heart should be.��

Her time served would count for nothing once they ripped the truth from her lips.

Unfurling her fingers, she looked down at the palm of her left hand, where the red scar marked her oath. Tracing that line with a gentle, almost reverent touch, she felt her eyes sting with tears. She had been so young, so new to all that magic could offer, and she had eagerly bonded herself to the boy with the beautiful brown eyes. 

A promise of love. A promise that she would never be alone again and look at where it had brought her. 

Leaning her head back against the wall, she stared into the shadows and imagined that they were staring back at her, mocking her for being so foolish. She hardened her stare, refusing to be afraid of what the darkness held. She faced those shadows every day and knew every crack and flaw in these stone walls. The shadows didn't stare back. She owned them. 

Bringing her palm to her face, she pressed a gentle kiss to the scar, a solitary tear sliding from the corner of her eye. It was the only self-pity she was going to allow herself. If she was going to die today, then so be it. She would stare death in the face with her chin held high. 

“I'm sorry, Sebastian, my love,” she whispered to the shadows. “Forgive me.” 

….*....

How different the questioning chamber looked from the confining shackles of the chair in the centre of the room. Last night, this room revealed that Rookwood was alive. It made her growing attachment to Prewett strengthen to the point that it frightened her. To trust him meant he could hurt her, and yet, seeing him again this morning brought a flood of relief that made her almost waver under the mental shields she had erected around herself. 

Now, her arms were clamped to the unforgiving wood of the prisoner chair, her ankles wrapped in cold iron. It was a sharp contrast to Leander's embrace as he had comforted her last night.  MC sat rigid in the chair, her skin prickled with goose flesh as she shivered under the pale glow of a light above her head, a Lumos charm cast by Harrington.

This room was now a death chamber.

The older Auror looked far too smug as he glared at her, standing before her with his wand in hand, his face angular with shadows. Her stomach quivered with fear, swirling and twisting with nothing to vomit as she had refused her measly breakfast at first light. 

“At last, we will get the truth from you now, sweetheart,” Harrington said, his smile cold. He gestured towards Leander, who stood just behind him, his face pale beneath his dusting of freckles. “Let's get started, shall we? Hand me the Veritaserum, Prewett. I’ve got some questions for our little prisoner.” 

MC's eyes darted towards Leander as he took a small glass bottle from his pocket and held it out to Harrington. The bottle was so small, so irrelevant looking, but MC clutched at the arms of the chair and gritted her teeth. Her fear was so thick that she could almost taste it. 

On the route from her cell to here, she had barely glanced Leander’s way, knowing that the look on his face had the potential to crack open her resolve. Even now, she was fighting the urge to meet his soft, brown eyes, hungry for some kind of comfort, and yet determined to keep strong. 

Harrington wiggled the truth potion in front of her face, eyes ablaze with expectation. “Open up, prisoner 2757. It's story time.” 

MC turned her face away, staring blankly at the cold stone walls and pretending that Harrington didn’t exist. No way would she make this easy for him. 

Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood for games. Grasping her jaw with one hand, Harrington held the open bottle in his other, squeezing at her face, trying to get her to open her mouth. MC clamped her lips together tightly, eyes wide as she pressed her head back against unforgiving wood. 

“Come on,” Harrington hissed. “There is no point fighting this, girl.” 

MC grunted as she fought against his grip, her arms scraping against her bonds, not quite as ready to face death as she had thought. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, images of Sebastian’s smile flashing into life, the naughty little gleam in his eyes when he teased her, their linked hands as he led her through the forest. She breathed hard through her nose, the cavern in her chest filling with the warmth of her memories as she clung desperately to them. 

“Is this force really necessary? You're hurting her.” 

Leander’s voice drifted into her thoughts. Her bare feet were freezing. She was shivering so hard the chain at her ankles rattled, but she wouldn’t relent. 

“Clearly, she's got something to hide,” Harrington insisted. “Look how she is fighting this.” 

“Yes, but she is also becoming emotional. The whole place will be flooded with bloody Dementors in a minute,” Leander protested. “Let her go, or we will have a fight on our hands.” 

Harrington’s grip reluctantly lessened, and MC risked opening her eyes. Leander was trying to ease Harrington backwards, his long fingers wrapping around the potion bottle in Harrington’s hand. Their breaths fogged in the frigid air, and MC swung her gaze towards the door where shadows shifted through the barred window. Death by a pact broken, or left soulless by a Dementor’s kiss. Her options were bleak.

“Let me do it,” Leander suggested softly, his breaths quick and shallow. “We don't have to hurt her.” 

Harrington stared at Leander, his eyes narrowing. “Fine. Let's see how soft you are towards her when she spills the truth.” 

Risking a glance at Leander, MC saw the flicker of something in his eyes, something he hid quickly as he nodded and took the potion bottle from Harrington’s grip. She swallowed hard, dropping her gaze before Leander could turn those soft, brown eyes of his to her. He knew this serum could kill her. He knew about the pact. Panic fluttered in her chest, and she shoved it down, trying to suppress her emotions.

His hand touched her shoulder, and she flinched, air hissing through her nose as she kept her mouth shut tight. 

“Easy,” Leander said, his fingers shifting gently along her shoulder towards her neck. He was shaking, she realised, her eyes fixed on the impeccably neat knot of his tie. “It's alright. I won't hurt you.” 

Her chest tightened with fear and longing as his fingertips brushed the skin of her throat, the conflicting emotions making her head spin. His thumb touched her jaw as he gently guided her head upwards. Her eyes now stared at his mouth, lips soft and pink, his freckles daring to encroach on the curved edges of his natural pout. 

“Don't make us force you, MC,” he said softly, a slight pleading edge to his tone. She watched his mouth move as he spoke, fixating on that rather than look at his eyes. “Just a drop. That's all it will take.” 

Her breaths came hard and fast through her nose, a faint tingle spreading along her skin as his thumb caressed her jaw bone with the lightest of touches, nothing like Harrington’s cold roughness. A soft touch, harmless, warm. Affection that she had been cut off from for so long. 

It wasn't real, though, she told herself. He was just trying to calm her like some wild beast. It wasn't real. But, it was working.

Unable to fight it any longer, her eyes lifted to meet his, soft brown flecked with gold, framed with thick copper lashes and watching her with all the affection he alluded to with his touch. Was that pity she could see? Was it friendship? 

Or was it something else? 

Her thick shield cracked a little, her defences beginning to crumble as she stared up at Leander, and a glimmer of her fear lit her eyes. That potion would force her to speak truths that would destroy everything.

“It will be alright,” he whispered, his gaze intensifying. His thumb stroked soothingly as he continued to speak. “Just a drop, and then we can talk. Okay? That is all we are going to do. Talk. Can you open your mouth for me?” 

His touch, the look in his eyes, the same pleading look he had given her when he had begged her to trust him. She shouldn't let it distract her, and yet she softened slightly. He hadn’t failed her yet. 

It will be alright. 

She eyed the potion bottle in his trembling fingers and then returned her gaze to him as his mouth twitched with the ghost of a smile. 

What had he done?

He nodded and brought the bottle towards her mouth. Heart pounding, her chest so tight her breaths felt like they were burning her, she carefully parted her trembling lips. Choosing to trust him, she opened her mouth without a fight. Leander tilted the bottle, and the potion dripped onto her lip, her tongue flicking forward to catch the sugary syrup before it slid onto her chin. It tasted sweet, her tongue tingling at the foreign feel of the flavour after years of bland mush. 

Leander withdrew his hand from her jaw, the lingering sensation of warmth left on her skin making her shiver. He stepped back and put the stopper back in the bottle, slipping it quickly into his pocket as he looked towards a suspicious looking Harrington. 

“How do you manage to get her to cooperate like that?” He asked, his gaze flicking between the two of them. 

MC scowled, her defences immediately slamming back into place as Leander straightened, his gaze unrelenting as he looked at the older Auror. 

“I just treat her like a person, Harrington,” he said. “Regardless of anything else, she is a human being and should be treated as such.” 

“Pfft, I'd like to see you try that theory out on some of the other inmates in this shit hole,” Harrington said. He shook his head, his eyes shrewd. “Something tells me this has more to do with whatever softness exists in your head for this bitch. I warned you about that. Don’t let her fool you. You might be in for a shock here, Prewett.” 

Leander flushed crimson and smoothed his fingers against his tie. “Nonsense,” he muttered. “Let's just ask the questions before the potion wears off. I'd rather not have to repeat this again.” 

MC shifted in the seat, eyeing Leander curiously, chains clinking as Harrington stepped before her. As much as she would like to ponder over the possibility that Leander had feelings for her, she had other more serious matters to deal with first. Harrington glared at her, and she felt the simmering dislike for him in her blood, her fingers gripping like claws on the arms of the chair. 

“Go on then,” she spat. “Ask me your questions.” 

“Did you fake Rookwood’s murder and help cover it up?” 

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I watched that bastard explode.” 

Harrington tilted his head, and MC felt her pulse quicken. The words had been easy to say, but she knew them to be a lie now. Her eyes flicked to Leander, but he remained still, watching her with his thumb and forefinger pinching his lower lip. 

“Were you working for Rookwood?” 

MC laughed, the sound of it a croaky, hoarse rumble in her throat. “No,” she replied. 

Harrington pressed his lips together in frustration. These were not the answers he wanted to hear. “You killed Solomon Sallow, though, didn't you? You killed him in cold blood.” 

MC held her breath, heart hammering behind her ribs, fear clawing at her throat, anticipating the searing fire in her blood as she betrayed Sebastian. Her lips trembled as the memory of that fateful day in the catacombs tried to play out behind her eyes. 

Leander was so pale, his eyes wide as he watched her. He knew she would die if she betrayed Sebastian, but with a soft and aching twist in her heart, she knew that Leander wouldn't let that happen. Somehow, whatever he had tipped into her mouth, it wasn't truth serum. She looked at him as the words left her mouth. 

“It was an accident. He just wouldn't stop,” she said, her voice a breathless gasp, determined that Sebastian’s name would not pass her lips. “I thought he was going to kill me. There were Inferi everywhere, fire and chaos…”

She gulped, and her head fell forward as she tried to steady her breathing. There was no searing pain, and the truth remained locked in her most secret heart. She could lie. Sebastian was safe. She wasn't going to die. The shadows had tried to smother her, but she walked within them, and they swirled around her, protecting her secrets. Relief swept through her with such force that she sagged in the chair, her limbs quivering. 

Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at Leander again. It was because of him. Whatever he had done, the potion hadn't worked. He had protected her at risk to himself despite her telling him to stop trying to save her. He couldn't, not really. Whilst she may live to see another sun rise through the sliver of window in her cell, she was doomed to walk through the shadows of her secrets forever. He could not save her from those. 

“You are saying it was self-defense,” Leander pressed. “You were caught in a duel situation.”

“Are you suggesting honour was involved?” Harrington looked sceptical as he glanced at Leander. 

Her fingers curled to stroke the scar on her palm, the tightness in her chest easing just enough to help her breathe more easily. The words she spoke were the truth even without the serum, the manner of Solomon’s death hidden within them.

“Solomon died without honour,” she said flatly. “He attacked me, almost burned me to death whilst his niece and nephew watched. He deserved everything he got, and I won't apologise for it.” 

“There must have been a reason for him to go for you like that,” Harrington said, his face grim. “Solomon wasn't the type to go around hurting children. Was it because he found out you were in league with Rookwood?” 

“His attack came out of nowhere. Maybe you didn't know Solomon as well as you thought you did,” MC said calmly. Her face settled into one of cold indifference, a mask to cover the twist of emotions in her chest. “Any more questions for me?” 

“Rookwood,” Harrington said, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Did you have anything to do with him or his Ashwinders?” 

MC looked Harrington straight in the eye, her voice cold. “I did not. I fought against everything he stood for. He wanted my magic, claiming it was his birthright. You keep telling me he is alive, and if that is true, then I would happily kill that son of a bitch again.” 

Harrington shook his head, his eyes betraying his disbelief and having no choice but to accept what she was telling him. As far as he knew, she was under the control of truth serum. The irony of the situation could almost be laughable because she was telling the truth. Watching him struggle with her words made her lips twitch with a smirk. 

“Would you help us bring Rookwood down given the chance?” Leander asked, stepping forward again. 

MC considered his question before nodding slowly. “I would happily see Rookwood brought down.” 

The Aurors exchanged a glance, some kind of silent communication passing between them that made her fingers grip the chair arms again. 

“What about Sebastian Sallow?” Harrington asked, watching her carefully. “He is part of Rookwood’s crew now. You bring the Ashwinders down, and you take your sweetheart down with them. Would you be willing to do that?” 

Never. She would never bring Sebastian down for as long as she lived. 

Looking up at both Aurors from the confines of her chair, she thought carefully, her head clearer than it had been for a long time. This morning she had been preparing to die, but now she knew that this wasn’t the case, and all thanks to the tall man who stood before her now, with eyes softer than she had any right to deserve from him. His kindness had given her something to cling to in the darkness, his gifts of restoring potions making her stronger than she would have been alone against the older Auror who hated her.

Harrington had revenge on his mind, never forgiving her for the death of Solomon, his fists and words dealing blows to her body and mind in the miserable time she had spent in his company. Watching him trying to deal with the lack of information she had provided gave her a deep satisfaction, and she found herself hungry for more as she gazed up at him.

Hurting Leander was the last thing she wanted to do after everything he had done for her, but she had warned him not to look for the good in her. This prison, this hell within walls soaked with centuries of pain and misery, had seeped deeply into her bones, smothering the light within her. She was terrified that there was nothing left of the old her. The girl she was before she came here was barely keeping her head above the waves of darkness. Clinging to memories of Hogwarts and Sebastian had been the only way to survive in the long, endless hours within that cell.

Until Leander had walked back into her life. He had given her a tiny glimmer of hope, a shred of light that could potentially lead to more, and she spent so long staring into darkness. Hating that these men held her future in their hands, she knew that her own survival depended on her. Hasn't that always been the case, though? She had always been alone, and even the blood pact with Sebastian hadn’t been able to save her from Azkaban’s horror. 

Would she be willing to sacrifice Sebastian to bring down Rookwood? No. But, bringing down Rookwood was on her own checklist of things to do before she left this mortal life. She just needed to play the game in order to do it. The game of self-preservation. Leaning back in the chair, her face cold and hard, she stared at Harrington.

“Perhaps I would be willing to do whatever it takes to bring down Rookwood,” she said carefully, her lips curving into a chilling smile. “It all depends on what you would be prepared to give me in return. Nothing comes for free, Auror Harrington. What can you do to convince me that helping you would be worth it?”

Harrington’s mouth tightened, and his blue eyes narrowed as he looked down at her, the frustrated gleam in his gaze making her smile widen. Leander shifted uncomfortably beside him, and MC was reluctant to meet his gaze for fear of seeing the disappointment in his eyes, but she forced herself to glance his way. He was still pale, his eyes hinting at the conflict going on behind them. It was regrettable, but she had to do this. 

“You dare to try and bargain with us?” Harrington sneered, his lip curling in disgust. 

MC shrugged, tilting her head, her smile still playing at her mouth. “Why not? What have I got to lose? I’m already here, and death is only another escape. Make me an offer, and I’ll think about helping you.”

Harrington shook his head, his face darkening with rage. “Get this bitch back in her cell,” he snapped, jabbing a finger at MC as he looked at Leander. “Get her out of my sight. I’ll meet you back at the office.”

With her wrists and ankles bound in silvery charmed chains, MC shuffled back to her cell with Leander at her side. The tension was flowing between them, his silence speaking louder than any words he might say, the quiet permeated only by the racket coming from the other cells they passed. When they reached her door, the old hag locked up opposite MC gripped her gnarled hands around the bars and began to chuckle. MC glared at her, fearing the withered and insane look of the woman in case it was her own future. 

Opening her door, Leander touched her elbow to usher her inside, the familiar shadows of her cell strangely welcoming after the cold, starkness of the questioning chamber. When she had left here earlier, she thought she would never see it again, and yet here she was, and all thanks to him.

“Why did you do it?” She asked, looking up at him finally. 

He wouldn’t meet her gaze, busying himself with taking out his wand and removing the charms from her ankles and wrists. It felt like a wall had gone up between them. He had pulled back from her, and after insisting that this very thing would be for the best, she found herself hating it. That glimmer of light and warmth was drifting away from her. 

“Lee,” she whispered, her thin fingers reaching to grasp the front of his robe.

He stilled, his gaze fixed downwards as he swallowed. “You’re a good liar, MC,” he said. “Perhaps I should be thanking you because if you weren’t, I’d be in a lot of trouble right now.”

“I never asked you to save me,” she said, wishing he would look at her.

“You didn’t have to,” he whispered. Taking another potion bottle from his pocket, this time another restoring brew, he tugged her hand free from the front of his jacket and pressed it into her palm, closing her fingers around it. “Here, take this. Call it a goodbye gift.”

“Goodbye?” She stared down at the potion, a flutter of panic waking up in her chest. “What do you mean?”

Finally, he looked at her. The sadness and regret she saw in his eyes felt like a fist to her stomach. His fingers reached out to ghost along her jaw, hovering near her mouth with a trembling touch that made her skin tingle like it did in the questioning chamber. The craving for simple human affection gnawed at her heart like a hungry beast. He couldn’t take that from her, he couldn’t! 

“You answered the questions, MC,” he said, brushing back her hair with a gentleness that stole her breath. “I don’t need to come back here anymore. Like you said, maybe it’s for the best.”

She began to shake her head, denying his words, even taking a step towards him, but he was turning his face away. His gaze lingered around her cell, perhaps taking one last look before he walked out of here forever.

“No,” she muttered, reaching for him, but he was stepping away from her. He walked for the door, and all sense of pride deserted her as she made a dive after him. “Leander, no.”

Grasping his robe, her hand like a claw, she tried to tug him back, but it was useless. He was stronger and held her at bay, still refusing to look at her as he opened the door.

“Don’t, MC. You need to stop,” he said, his voice tight. 

“You can’t just leave like this, not after everything,” she pleaded, trying to wedge herself between him and the door. “Leander, please.”

Strong hands gripped her upper arms, and he lifted her easily from her feet, moving her aside so he could get to the door. The potion tumbled from her grip, hitting the floor and rolling away. It was a wonder it didn’t smash, but she let it go, her hands scrabbling to grab on to his robes. He couldn’t leave her. The days and years ahead yawned like an abyss, fear obliterating all thought as she clung to him, her bare feet dragging across stone as he tried to get to the door.

“Stop it!” He hissed, his breaths coming harder and faster as he grabbed her and pushed her against the cell wall. His eyes found hers, and she froze, gaping up at the burning intensity in his face. “I can’t do this anymore. I risked everything for you today. Everything! Do you know what scares me more than anything else? Despite the risk, despite the fact that you would probably crawl over my dead body to get back to him, I’d do it again.”

He shook his head, wincing at his own words, and her pulse roared in her ears.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. He let her go, bringing both hands to his forehead as he took a shuddering breath. She dared not move, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

That look, that warmth, it was more than she had dared to believe. He felt something for her, something that went deeper than just human decency and friendship.

“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. And she was.

Her lips parted in a soft gasp as his hands cupped her face, his lips pressing against her forehead in a firm but tender kiss. “Goodbye, MC,” he whispered, his breath hot against her flesh.

Frozen, shocked, MC didn’t move a muscle as he left her cell, her heart thudding in her ribs and her forehead tingling from the touch of his soft lips. The final, cold clang of her door shutting made her flinch, and then his footsteps began to disappear into the darkness.

She shook her head, her feet slapping against stone as she ran, crashing into the iron bars with a chest wrenching sob. Her hands gripped the cold iron, and she tried to look, tried to see him one more time, but he was too far gone. She sucked in a breath and screamed his name, hot tears spilling from her eyes as a grief so swift and brutal slammed through her.

The old hag opposite began to laugh, and MC screamed and screamed, the cords of her neck standing rigid as she clung to the bars. She screamed until her throat was hoarse, and she sank to the floor.

In the questioning chamber, she had thought she'd had nothing to lose. Oh, how wrong she had been.

The shadows closed in around her. He was gone. Leander was finally gone and she was alone. 

Sebastian

The bell above the door in Borgin and Burke’s jingled jauntily as Sebastian entered, his eyes scanning the array of fascinating objects cluttering up the shelves of the dingy little shop. It wasn’t his first visit by any means, but he still perused the objects with a curious eye, always fascinated by the darker items and what secrets they held.

A tall bookcase stuffed full with tomes drew his eye, and he ran a finger along their spines, a smirk tilting his lips at some of the nefarious titles he could spy. He could quite happily kill an hour or two flicking through some of these, but alas, he was here on official business, and his gaze wandered across to the shop counter.

A short man with beady eyes was watching him, a knowing look on his face. “I can sort you out a good deal on one of those,” he offered, nodding at the bookcase. “Got your eye on one, have you?”

“Perhaps some other time, Mr Burke,” Sebastian smiled, walking across to stand in front of the counter. “I’m here on another matter. A meeting.”

“Ah, yes,” Burke said, nodding, his thick lips more grimace than smile. He motioned towards a door that led out to the rear of the shop. “He’s waiting in there for you with the faceless woman.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows arched slightly at Burke’s choice of words, his smirk expectant as he stepped towards the doorway. Rookwood hadn’t specified the meaning of this meeting, but Sebastian wasn’t surprised to see Black Dahlia waiting with him in the storage room. The faceless woman. Sebastian liked that description.

Last time, she had been unassuming apart from her eyes, and you could say the same of her this time. She wore the same deep hooded cloak, her irritatingly familiar brown eyes lifting to meet him as he entered, but her face was plain. He tried to recall what she had looked like in that awful shack outside of York, but the details were hazy. Burke had it right. She was faceless. 

Rookwood was dressed in a long coat and top hat, the image of a gentleman, his face brightening as Sebastian entered. “Ah, Mr Sallow, you finally decided to grace us with your presence,” he said, tucking his expensive watch back into his pocket. “Come, come, we have urgent business to attend to. Did you manage to track down that Auror you were chummy with at Hogwarts?”

Sebastian smirked at Rookwood’s choice of words and moved closer. “I have a lead. I was going to chase it up today, but I came here instead when I got your owl. What’s the urgent business?”

“If you would be so kind, my dear,” Rookwood said, bowing his head towards Black Dahlia. 

Sebastian watched as she dipped her hand under her cloak and retrieved a shiny badge, holding it out to him. Sebastian hesitated a moment, glancing at Rookwood before taking the instantly recognisable badge from her. Her fingers touched against his, and she flinched, his eyes flicking up to hers with a slight frown before he looked back down at the Auror badge. He smoothed his thumb over the polished surface thoughtfully.

“What is this for?”

“It’s the only way you can get into Azkaban without setting off the wards,” she said simply.

Sebastian stilled, staring at her in surprise. “I’m sorry, what?”

She smiled, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, how else are you going to get your little prisoner out if not by going in to fetch her?”

Sebastian looked to Rookwood, who smiled with that cold, smug way he had. “Black Dahlia has been most resourceful and will be rewarded handsomely.”

The flush on the woman’s plain cheeks was nothing compared to the ravenous greed in her eyes as she stared at Rookwood. Her hands pressed together in expectation for a moment before she pulled out a piece of folded parchment and her wand. Clearing her throat, she held out the parchment to Sebastian.

“I managed to make a visit of my own to Azkaban and took the liberty of making a map that will lead you right to MC’s door,” she said. Sebastian immediately snatched the map from her fingers and unfolded it, his eyes scanning it quickly, committing the neat lines and icons to memory. “Luckily, she is held in a ground floor wing, and it's rather easy to get to.” 

“You’ve seen her?” Sebastian asked eagerly. “What is she like?”

Black Dahlia’s mouth twitched knowingly, and she held the tip of her wand to her temple. “So eager, Mr Sallow,” she taunted. “Why don’t I let you see for yourself?”

She gave a nod towards Rookwood, and he moved to open the double doors of an old cabinet to reveal a stone pensieve. As the basin slid out into view, Rookwood took a hasty step back from it, his eyes betraying a flicker of dislike before he gathered his composure and gestured towards Black Dahlia. “All yours, my dear,” he said, wrinkling his nose with displeasure. 

Pensieves were rare and usually in the possession of notable wizards, such as the Minister for Magic and the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Sebastian had only ever read about them until that day in the Undercroft when MC had allowed him to view memories belonging to Isadora Morganach. He recalled the shivery, odd feeling of placing his face into the swirling substance in the bowl, the memories appearing before him as though he was there, but unable to interact with what he was seeing. 

Stepping up to the basin now, he stared into the depths and wondered how a pensieve had come into the possession of Borgin and Burke, his gaze curious as he glanced at Rookwood. “I would not have thought to find one of these in here, despite the curiosities on offer at this shop.”

“Yes, well it’s not always what you know, but who, that matters in the big city, Sallow,” Rookwood said smugly, adjusting the collar of his coat. “This pensieve is on a need to know basis, and those that know heed the warning not to spread word of it. If the Ministry were to catch wind of it, there would be a lot of unhappy wizards and witches. A lot of dark, unhappy people. If you catch my meaning.”

“Understood,” Sebastian said with a nod, turning his gaze towards Black Dahlia. “So, then? What have you got for me?”

Her smile was small as she pressed her wand to her temple, her unremarkable features twisting into a grimace as the silvery thread of her memory was extracted by the charm. Guiding the billowing wisp of her thoughts with her wand, she let it drift into the basin, a dark and shadowy image unfolding in the depths.

“There you go, Mr Sallow,” she said, her eyes gleaming with interest. “Take a look at your little prisoner, and be sure to pay attention to your surroundings, especially in the Auror’s reception room. You will need to remember them when it comes time to Apparate there.”

The cool depths of the basin shrouded his face as Sebsatian bent forward, his heart pounding eagerly in anticipation at the thought of seeing MC. With a rush of air against his face that belied the cool liquid of the bowl, he found himself in a dark chamber lit by fire sconces on the walls, a long unmanned counter running the length of it. He had no choice but to follow the eyes of Black Dahlia, her gaze sweeping over the huge array of prisoner number boards on one wall before she looked down at a signing in book laid out on the counter. 

Sebastian could see Prewett’s name signed several times, each time next to the same prisoner number, and Sebastian’s hands clenched into fists as Black Dahlia shifted to walk through a door into a long, dark corridor. Prewett had walked this same corridor on his way to see MC. He couldn’t help the stab of envy that pierced him as he came out into a huge corridor, the stone as black as night, the ceiling so high up and filled with the dark wraiths of the Dementors drifting lazily about. He flinched as a few swooped lower, but a swift Patronus charm from Black Dahlia kept them back as she walked. 

Sebastian could hear the prisoners as they called out to Black Dahlia, but he could feel nothing, smell nothing as they continued on. The horror he could see was bad enough, and a sickening feeling swirled in his stomach as they came to a stop outside a door of iron bars. Black Dahlia stood silent, staring into the cell, and Sebastian stepped forward to get a closer look, his heart thudding almost painfully against his ribs. 

On the floor near the door was a huddled figure, lank hair hanging over her face, her scrawny arms wrapped around her legs. She was rocking backwards and forwards, soft whimpers coming from under the hair. Sebastian’s heart seemed to freeze in his chest, the swirling, sick feeling pushing up towards his throat, and he thought he might actually vomit. Could he even do that here, trapped in this memory? He had no idea.

That couldn’t be MC. It just couldn’t.

Black Dahlia stepped closer towards the door, and MC went still on the floor, her head slowly lifting upwards to look. Sebastian gasped in horror at the emaciated face, the sunken eye sockets, but most of all, the utter pain and sadness that stared up at him from those huge, haunted eyes. His hand gripped the bars to steady himself, and just when he thought his heart couldn’t crack any deeper, she spoke.

“Lee? Is that you?”

Sebastian sunk down onto his knees. The pain of hearing the desperate hope in her voice made all the harsher because it wasn’t his name on her cracked lips. It was Prewett’s. 

MC shuffled closer, her limbs stiff from being on the hard floor, her boney fingers grabbing iron bars so she could haul herself to her feet. Sebastian stood with her, his eyes fixated on her thin frame, her haunted stare, her tear stained cheeks. He reached out a hand through the bars to touch her, but of course, his fingers went right through her. She wasn’t real. She was just a memory of the faceless woman. 

Gone was the beautiful girl he had showered with loving kisses, her soft curves now wasted into boney joints. Her eyes stared with such hope, but it faded into suspicion as she recoiled from Black Dahlia, a hardness entering her gaze as she stepped away from the door.

“You’re not Leander,” she hissed. “Who are you?”

Black Dahlia laughed, her head shaking slowly as she looked MC over. “This is what he wants so badly? Look at you. You’re pathetic.”

MC’s face twisted, her eyes dark and glittering. “Who wants me?”

“That would be telling,” Black Dahlia teased.

Sebsatian noticed how MC touched her fingers to her left palm, stroking them along what he knew was her scar. He put his fingers against his own matching mark, a flutter of hope soaring through his chest. She remembered him. She hadn’t forgotten. 

All too soon, the image began to fade, the sensation of being sucked up and backwards enveloping him as the memory came to an end. He reached out a hand towards MC, his eyes never leaving her until his head came out of the pensieve, and he gasped for his breath. The storage room at the back of Borgin and Burke’s came into view, and he looked at Black Dahlia, hating her more than anything in that moment, his hand twitching near his wand.

“She looks bad, doesn't she? I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was still a shock to see her,” she said, her irritatingly boring face filled with amusement. 

“How bad?” Rookwood asked, his eyes narrow.

Sebastian swung his gaze towards him, rubbing his face with the back of his hand, still breathing hard. “She was thin, haunted looking, but she could speak,” he said, gritting his teeth. The nausea made him swallow thickly, his eyes determined as he looked at Rookwood. “When can I get her out?”

Rookwood summoned a wooden box from his pocket with a flick of his wrist and handed it towards Black Dahlia. As she reached for it, he clamped a hand about her wrist, his eyes gleaming with a wicked look.

“Just a little peek for now, my dear,” he said quietly. “This isn’t yours until Sallow returns from Azkaban with our little friend in tow. Call it insurance against any stupid tricks you might have hidden under that cloak of yours. Are we clear on that?”

Black Dahlia’s eyes darkened with fury for a moment, and then she reluctantly nodded. Rookwood lifted the lid on the box, and her face shone with awe at whatever was inside. Then the lid slammed shut, and she jumped. 

“Get out,” Rookwood ordered, his face hard. “Meet me tomorrow at the usual place. After the sun has gone down.” 

Scowling viciously, Black Dahlia left the room, her robe billowing out behind her.

Rookwood turned to Sebastian, the box disappearing back into his coat pocket as he smiled his cold smile. “Tonight,” he said, a glow of anticipation in his eyes. “You will go to Azkaban tonight and collect her. I will give you until tomorrow lunchtime to reacquaint yourself with her, and then report to me, and only me. I will be at the Black Rose from midday.”

Sebastian trembled, nodding his head in agreement, still trying to process what he had seen in the pensieve. “Understood,” he said. 

“Are you sure you are up to this, Sallow? You look rather pale.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” he said, his mouth thinning into a tight line. “I won’t stop until I've got her. You have my word on that.”

After leaving Knockturn Alley, Sebastian Apparated to a desolate spot on the banks of the River Thames, the stinking filth of the city behind him and the drift of sailing ships heading back out to sea in front of him. The expanse of the sky was spread out above, and the salty scent of sea air teased his nose. Freedom.

MC was in that dark hole, her face a pale imitation of what she had once been, and it tore his heart into pieces to think of it. The horrifying image of her was seared into his mind, and a heavy feeling pressed through him, leaden and cold. It was guilt, he realised. She was there because of him. This was his fault. 

A scream of rage and desperation tore from his throat, his face flushing red from the effort of it as he roared at the sky. His hands formed fists that he wanted to smash into the thick mud at his feet, his vision blurring as tears of frustration gathered. 

She had said Prewett’s name. Her pitiful hope had been for it to be that blasted Gryffindor at her door and not him. Sebastian felt thick envy flood his veins, and he grit his teeth, his throat burning from his rage. For years, he had tried not to imagine what it was like for her there, clinging to the hope that she would be alright, that she was strong and would fight it. The truth was like a dagger to his soul. 

His hand dug into his pocket and took out the amulet, the ruby red stone shifting and glittering in the daylight. He smoothed his thumb over the solidified mass of their blood, their promise to one another, and blinked back his tears. He ached for her, hated the years that had separated them, and was ashamed of not fighting harder for her. He gripped the amulet in his left fist, holding it tightly against the thin strip of his scar. 

Tonight, he would get her out of there. Tonight, he would finally have her back, and he would spend the rest of his life on his knees, making it up to her. She was his. Nothing would stop him. Not Rookwood, not Anne, and especially not Prewett. The only name whispered on MC’s lips would be his from now on, and he wasn’t afraid to crush anyone who stood between him and his MC.

Leander

Head in his hands, Leander sat at his desk and stared at MC’s file, the folder open to reveal her prisoner photograph. Her eyes blinked up at him from the moving image, her face healthy and youthful, just as she had looked at school. A dull ache wrapped around his head, exhaustion pulling at him, his chest feeling empty and tight. He had chased sleep throughout the night, but it had eluded him, the sound of MC’s screams echoing through his thoughts and making him shiver under the blankets. 

He didn’t think he would ever be able to forget the sound of his name being screamed through the darkness of Azkaban. The sound of it had made his feet move faster, escaping the chilling feeling that had slid down the back of his neck. She would never know how hard it had been to leave her there like that, to push her away and say goodbye to her as he had. Nobody could ever know. 

Even now, his eyes burned with the need to cry despite sobbing like a child into his pillow last night. How did one person get under your skin so deeply that it had the power to shred you up inside? Her haunted eyes had bewitched him, the plea in her voice when she had begged him to stay clawed at him. It was utter madness, and his head was a mess because of it. 

He had stupidly considered returning to the prison in the dead of night and taking it all back, telling her he was sorry, and of course, he would come back to see her. But then, common sense had him rolling over in his bed, his fingers gripping the blanket tighter around him as the foolishness of such a thought dropped like a stone into his stomach.

He would be chasing a dream. It would always be him. He had seen it in her eyes in the questioning room. No matter how hard and cold her face could become, at the mention of Sallow’s name, her eyes would flare with fierce darkness. Leander knew he could never compete with that. 

Lost in the trajectory of his thoughts, Leander jumped when a parchment was slapped forcibly down onto the file in front of him, the official logo of the Ministry and the Wizengamot printed at the top. His head shot up, eyes blinking as he stared at a fuming Harrington.

“What…what is it?” He mumbled, rubbing his face and frowning in confusion. 

Harrington screwed his mouth up in frustration and huffed air through his nose. “I’ve just been to a meeting with the Head of our office and the Wizengamot,” he bit out. He glanced around the office, his expression one of frustrated disbelief. “They’ve only gone and signed her release papers.”

Leander’s frown deepened. “Whose release papers?”

He glanced down at the parchment, fingers grasping the edges as he scanned the inked words quickly, his mouth dropping open in shock when he saw the name scrawled at the top. Prisoner 2757, MC. His gaze flew back up to Harrington, who nodded and scowled viciously. “I know,” he growled. 

“How is this even possible? I don’t understand,” Leander said, his heart racing behind his ribs as he looked down at the release papers again. 

“Rookwood is alive, and so the charges against her were dropped,” Harrington said bitterly, his hands clenched into fists. “As for the murder of Solomon Sallow, they changed the charges to death by self-defense after the results of her Veritaserum test yesterday. They reduced her sentence from ten years to five, with immediate release under one year’s probation. I tried to argue the case, of course. She killed an Auror after all, but they said she was a minor at the time and not in full control of her magic. It’s a bloody farce is what it is!”

Harrington began to pace as Leander confirmed his rant by reading the paper in his hands. There were terms for her probation, his eyes widening as he saw his own name printed in the box next to Probation Auror. 

“I’m assigned to be her Probation Auror?” He gulped, the parchment trembling in his hands. He dropped it back down onto the desk, pressing his hands together as if in some sort of Muggle prayer and pressed them against his mouth. What the fuck was happening? 

Harrington paused and turned to face him, leaning forward over his desk with a hard look. “Yes, Prewett,” he said, his eyes boring into him. “She gets out, but only if she agrees to spy for us. She needs to sign a contract that states she meets with you on a daily basis, reporting her findings on Rookwood and the Ashwinders. This is the deal the Wizengamot are prepared to offer her, this is what the little bitch gets in return for helping us. She walks fucking free.”

Leander stared at Harrington, trying to process all of this. He had said goodbye to MC last night, convinced he would never see her again, and now he would. Everyday. In the real world. “Shit,” he squeaked.  

“Yes. Shit, indeed,” Harrington spat. He narrowed his eyes at Leander. “I sure hope you are up for this, Prewett. You’ve got to keep a grip on that slippery little bitch, and not let your personal feelings get in the way of the dangerous job that needs to be done here. I know you’re soft on her. I saw the way you were with her yesterday, I’m not blind. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’re the only one who can get her to talk, I would have argued that another Auror would be in charge of her care.”

“I can do it,” Leander said immediately, sitting up straighter. “She trusts me enough, that’s all. If I can keep that bond open, then it shouldn't be too hard to keep her cooperating. She won’t want to go back inside Azkaban, so that should help keep her in line, too.”

“What if she gives us the slip and disappears? What, then?”

“Then we hunt her down and catch her,” Leander said simply. “It can’t be that hard. Not if we know her weaknesses, and I reckon I could figure those out easily enough. I can do this, Harrington. I know I can.” 

Harrington studied him for a moment before nodding. “Very well,” he said, pointing at the release parchment. “Sign in the box to say you agree. McKinnon is out preparing a safe house to put her in. She will need to be cleaned up and seen by a Healer, you will need to get her fit and capable with a wand again before we send her off to join Rookwood, too. That bastard is as cunning as a fox. I don’t want him to suspect her. Unfortunately, we might need to stick MC under Sallow’s nose to get her in with them. With any luck, she will bring that sneaky little shit into our net as well.” 

Leander felt his stomach turn over at the thought of MC being around Sebsatian again. With their blood pact, she wouldn’t be able to turn Sebastian over herself. They would have to catch him some other way, and in the meantime, he hoped that her inability to betray the crafty Slytherin wouldn’t end up with her breaking her probation terms, landing her back inside her cell in Azkaban.

Just when he thought he had left behind the risk and danger of helping her, MC would now be even more under his care. He would need to be so careful, and this time, he needed to keep his soft heart firmly under control.

“When is she to be released?” He asked, straightening his already neat tie.

“She’s already a free woman,” Harrington shrugged, his frown revealing his feelings on the matter. “You can go and fetch her out whenever you like, Prewett. She is all yours.” 

MC

A tear slid from her eye and rolled down her cheek, her hand lifting to swipe it away without really thinking about it. The tears seemed to just leak from her now, an endless flow stemming from the black hole in her chest. Ever since Leander had left her yesterday, the hours had stretched out in timeless shadows as she tried to keep a grasp on reality. 

The strange woman in the cloak at her door before sundown yesterday had put her on edge, her eyes sliding towards her cell door periodically, wondering what other phantoms may appear to taunt her. Perhaps the madness had come at long last. Her mind had finally cracked. 

In her hand, she held the little glass bottle of restoring potion that Leander had pressed into her hands. She twirled the bottle, eyeing the liquid as she debated drinking it. Once it was gone, that would be it. He wouldn't be back to bring another. 

Pressing her lips together, she swallowed back another wave of grief that threatened to consume her. The loss of a friendly face, the ache to be seen, and the desperation to know that she wasn't alone, it made her chest yawn with that swallowing blackness. 

Ripping the stopper from the bottle, she put it to her lips and gulped it down, a pleasant warmth spreading through her shivering frame. She felt her cheeks tingle, her fingers flexing as strength returned to them. She knew it wouldn't last, but she closed her eyes and savoured the feeling. 

As her thoughts cleared and a small sigh left her lips, the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor. Clutching the bottle tightly in her hand, her eyes swung towards her cell door, wondering what tricks her eyes would play on her this time. 

As the figure appeared from the shadows, she slowly put the bottle down onto the hard stone, her heart rate increasing as he stepped closer towards the iron bars. 

Merlin, please don't let this be a trick. Please, let him be real. 

Slowly, she got to her feet, moving towards the door. She was almost afraid to blink in case he vanished. Pausing before the iron bars that separated them, she met his familiar brown eyes, her lips trembling. 

“Hello, MC…” 

To be continued...

Thank you to my betas @eternalremorse and @slytherin-paramour

Odessa McKinnon is an OC used with the kind permission of @ellivenollivander

Taglist: @evaslytherpuff @writing-intheundercroft @marketfreshfics @loving-him-was-red13

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #leander prewett #leander prewett x mc #blueraineshadows #blood bound

[garbinge]

But Not Today

Chibs Telford x F!Teller!Reader

Summary: Part 2 from Maybe One Day // Chibs comes to visit you on the farm.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of death, murder, emotional distress, emotionally heavy.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

A/N: I've been thinking about these two a lot </3 Part 1

Your chest was rising and falling as you caught your breath and stared at the ceiling. It was the moment where all your wits and sanity came back over you and the thoughts of what just happened came flooding in. The smell of his Scottish cologne and cigarettes filled the empty space on the bed next to you, it was still warm to the touch. You heard the water from the faucet turn off and any thought that was sneaking in your brain was now being rushed out as Chibs reappeared in your room. His hands were tangling through his shirt as he put it back on. Your eyes darted from him to his kutte, waiting to see if he was going to put it on. That’s when your heart began to race even more. The thought of him leaving made you uneasy, he had come all the way up here to the farm to see you and explained nothing. It was partially your fault too, you made pleasantries, some quick small talk but before any explanation was given you were kissing him and dragging him into your room. 

“What’s with the face, love?” Chibs spoke as he grabbed his kutte, your heart sinking with it. 

“Leaving already?” Your eyes moved back to his. 

A smile grew on his face as he shrugged the leather over his shoulders. “You promised me uh tour, didn’ya? If I ‘member correctly you said sum ‘bout chickens?” 

The way the relief washed over you made you sad for a minute. You knew this was a feeling you’d feel again, that it’d be heavy when it happened, but you took a deep breath and tried to stay in the moment. 

“Earl, Tootsie, Olive, and Jameson.” You named them off as you stood up and re-dressed. 

Chibs was now grinning as he waited for you to get ready. “Jameson, huh?” He asked pulling out a cigarette to hang in his mouth, eager to get outside and smoke it. 

“Abel and Thomas named them when they were young kids, but I made sure I suggested one.” 

Chibs was holding out your sweatshirt for you. You approached and grabbed it from him but instead of letting go he pulled you closer. “Not tha only thing you have ‘round here as a reminder of me.” His face was dangerously close to yours as he looked down at the sweatshirt. It was the one item of his you could still wear around. There were no SAMCRO tags, just a black zip-up that barely had his scent left on it. 

“I’ve got pictures too.” You said stealing the zip-up back from him and placing a kiss on the left side of his mouth where the cigarette wasn’t dangling from his lips. Moving past him you made your way to the backdoor, the barn dog you got quickly getting up from her bed and moving to the sliding door just waiting to run around to herd the few goats you had. 

“Where’re the boys?” Chibs asked as he walked behind you. 

“Thomas is with Nero. Tuesdays he picks him up from school and takes him to basketball practice.” You spoke as the door slid open and the door ran past your legs. “Abel is 16— I’m lucky if I know what he’s wearing for the day. I thought Gemma was being exaggerated when she’d talk about the “Teller Terrible Teens” but Abel has made her words an understatement.” 

Chibs looked to you with a frown as you stepped onto the back deck and made your way down to the farmland. 

“It’s not horrible. He’s not a dick to me, he helps out when I ask. He just– he questions everything, he’s asking about Jax, he’s getting into trouble at school.” You shook your head thinking about these last few weeks and how Abel had been acting out.

“The worst part is, he reminds me of him so much. The way he looks, the way he talks.” You laughed as you unlatched the barn fence and moved around it to look at Chibs and invite him in with the sway of your arm.  “Yesterday, we were at the grocery store and he looked at the girl bagging our shit and said, “thanks, darlin’” I swore I was looking at Jax, I froze for a minute and just stared at him.” You laughed again. 

Chibs laughed with you knowing it sounded just like the boy’s father. 

“He’s probably out with his friends on his dirt bikes in the back trails.” You spoke as you walked through the goat pasture. “They probably do real stupid shit but I’d rather them do it on the property than at some random’s house or parking lot downtown. I’ve turned them into real country boys.” You turned back to see Chibs admiring everything around him. He was still listening to you but he was taking in the sight around him. 

“This is the goat pasture, Billie girl, our dog, loves herding them, honestly I got ‘em because I don’t have to mow the lawn as much. We’ve got 1 horse, Delilah, real beauty, she’s back in that red barn over there. Then there’s the chickens. We had more but they aged out, now we’re down to the four. Waiting to get 12 more, can’t go to the Farmer’s market with only 2 dozen eggs, you know?” The words were falling out fast as you spoke, nervous habit, but it didn’t stop you from beaming as you showed Chibs around. 

“You seem happy.” Chibs couldn’t help but smile as he took in every word you said. The both of you approached the back deck and plopped down on the rocking chairs Nero insisted you kept back here for company. It was an argument between you two when you first moved onto the farm. You looked at him like he was crazy when he mentioned company. It was hard to believe a normal life with having people over could exist when you were running from what you were running from. 

You looked over at Chibs as he looked right back at you after making his last comment, the smile on your face wasn’t at his words but at the memory of Nero’s. 

“I don’t know about happy.” You began to shake your head. “But, I don’t know I’m content, I’m…” Your mind wandered to find the right word. 

“At peace.” Chibs nodded as he finished your sentence, not even bothering to look at your eyes to see if his words were correct, he knew they were. 

You would have agreed with a nod but Chibs was looking out at the farm, his fave had fallen into an expression that was hard to read. He seemed…bittersweet. Happy but yet sad. 

As he stared out at the barn he nodded his head and said something under his breath. 

“The Universe will never give you peace in something you were never meant to settle in.” 

“What?” You leaned forward, frown filling your face as the familiar sentiment fell from his lips. It was hard to really pinpoint anything since he spoke it at a mumble. 

“I, uh.” Chibs reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small pocket notebook. “found this. In the garage. S’why I came out here, figured you should have it.” He handed over one of Jax’s notebooks. You knew what it was immediately, it matched the style of the other one you had. 

“I read it.” Chibs said those three words with multiple emotions behind it. Regret and apologies, for intruding on whatever privacy there was there, but also firmness and understanding like something in there just made sense. 

“And?” You rested your elbows on your knees. 

“‘nd, it’s’y I came here and didn’t mail it out.” He looked troubled now. “I wanted to make sure you were settled.” 

Now that statement held more weight knowing what he had just mumbled under his breath. 

“I guess I am.” You hated that the words felt like they were breaking his heart. 

“You are, love.” Chibs spoke with certainty. 

You looked out onto the farm, taking in the life you had. It was different than the life you had been born into, forced into. The life that took pretty much everything away from you. 

“It’s impossible to be at peace in that town.” You said the words outloud. It felt relieving to say it. All this time you had never said it outloud, they were just thoughts that danced around you head. 

“Don’t I know it.” Chibs agreed with you. 

That made your head turn to him, a little shocked. All your conversations when you were together, or involved was probably the better word, back in Charming never were really about the big problem. Sure, you two talked about club stuff, the things members told their ol’ ladies, about your brother, about Jimmy O, about a lot, but never the real source. 

“What are you saying?” You questioned him, more bold than you ever would have before. 

“Things are different. Things are messy.” He wanted to share but you could tell he was hesitant, that he was trying to ease back into your dynamic and add another layer to it. But the loyalty to the club ran deep, that was a multi-decade long habit that he was trying to break for the first time. 

“Doesn’t sound different.” That was the new you coming up to speak. The you that lost your brother, your brother’s best friend, your mother, your father to the club. 

Chibs nodded at that. “We’re getting into it with the Mayans. Other charters, they’re falling apart, it’s bleeding into SAMCRO.” 

“Yea, doesn’t sound different at all.” You crossed your arms and fell back into the rocking chair. 

“Your brother–Jax–Jackie boy,” Chibs went through all the names he’d call Jackson Teller, smiling at the last one before letting his lips fall, “this wasn’t what he wanted, he worked hard to leave everything in a good place and it’s like shit unraveled.” 

You could tell he was venting to you, you could tell he hadn’t been able to do this with anyone else in his life, no one from the club, no one in his love life, it could’ve made you feel special, a characteristic Chibs never failed at with you, but this wasn’t so much of a fail but just not something you could ever feel special about again. 

“As someone who's seen it before, from the outside but up close and personal. This doesn’t seem different at all.” 

It was the same statement you kept repeating, but this time, the way you said this, it made him look at you. His eyes were low, tired, and you could see the gloss and redness in them as he held back tears. Two strands of his long salt and pepper hair escaped from his sunglasses and fell in front of his eyes, oily and dirty you could tell he was going through it. 

He didn’t need to say anything, you knew he was looking at you to elaborate. 

It was mean to laugh, but you felt that you had the right to after everything you’ve been through and talking about it now was bringing that bitterness up. 

“You’re so deep in it, you don’t even see what’s plain in front of your eyes.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath letting the irritation leave your tone for the next sentence out of your mouth. “Your next. Everyone who's held that gavel ends up in the same place, making the same mistakes as the one previous, no matter how hard they try not to.” 

Chibs took in what you said. 

“Jax tried so hard to be JT, then tried so hard not to be him. Both of those things dug that grave for him. He loved the club more than anything and the club couldn’t love him back.” You were saying things that you had locked away in your mind for years, things you thought about as you buried your brother, as you packed your life up and left. “The club will never love you back.” You looked at Chibs. “Those guys might love you, but the club never will.” 

“Do you?” 

You weren’t sure if he was trying to change the subject, at first your head snapped to him with a smirk and a snappy remark to shoot back at him but you saw his face that was looking out at the farm. 

“Never stopped.” 

The words made him look at you and you smiled at him. Your head tilted and lowered to meet him at eye level since he was leaning his elbows on his knees. “Best part is, the farm,” you tilted your head a little more before leveling it out, “it loves you back.” You nodded. “Every animal, every acre of land, the boys even when they fucking hate you for embarrasing them in front of a girl,” you laughed at that one and smiled hoping the last one was going to be enough to convince him, “me.” 

The tear dropped at that one. His eyes shut tight as a couple more fell. 

“Move here. You can open up a garage, we have the buildings for it, Nero would even let you put something up closer to the road, you can come with me to the Farmer’s market, you can drive me to the vet at 2 in the morning when I’m worried that Billie got into something or that one of the chicken’s has a fever,” you chuckled, “you can ride dirt bikes with the boys and tell them about Jax, not SAMCRO president, but your best friend, how you fell in love with your best friend’s sister, you can wake up and feel settled, feel at peace.” 

Chibs wanted to say yes. He wanted to build a fire and burn the kutte right here right now, but he knew it wasn’t that easy. In this moment it was but as the thought settled, as the days would pass, he’d think about it, he’d dwell in it, wonder if he made the right decision, miss the kutte, miss the guys. 

“It’s not that easy, love.” Chibs tired to level with you. 

“Doesn’t seem like the life you’re living now is either.” You would beg him, it wasn’t below you to beg. “It’s going to kill you.” You were firm in your words, it wasn’t begging but you thought it might have an impact on him. “The club is going to kill you.” 

“A normal life would too.” He answered too quickly and immediately you knew it was a losing argument. 

The sound of an engine and the gravel dirt being stirred up and you knew it was Thomas and Nero coming back home. Chibs looked over and saw them pulling into the driveway when he stood up.

“Was really good seeing you, love.” He put his hand on your cheek and looked down at you. “Really good.” His thumb caressed your cheek and he smiled. 

You nodded in agreement and thanked him for the journal. His hand was still on your cheek when you shut your eyes tight. “Don’t come back here unless the ink is blacked out and the kutte is off.” 

The words broke you to say, but it was more than just you that you had to look out for. You had two boys to think of and the man who was generous enough to give you half of his acreage to live on. 

“Ay.” He agreed with no disdain in his voice, if anything it was littered with understanding and what you hoped was well, hope. 

Your eyelids remained shut as his hand dropped and he walked off the back porch. You heard the car doors close but no words exchanged. If you weren’t dealing with everything that just happened in your head right now you’d be imagining the way Nero was probably lifting his sunglasses while Chibs was lowering his, the nods both would give to eachother, the curious questioning look on Thomas’ face as he tried to place the visitor. 

“You alright?” Nero’s voice was filling your ears and you wished it offered up the level of comfort it normally did. 

The tears were wiped from your face immediately and you stood and smiled. “Yea, I’m good.” 

Nero knew you weren’t but he also knew you weren’t going to share with Thomas two steps from joining you on the porch. 

“Who was that?” Thomas was asking as he looked down at the snack he was fidgeting with to open. 

Your gaze looked at Nero and said so much while not speaking at all. Before you either had a chance to answer, another voice was coming from the other direction as the back door swung open. “Was that guy on the bike here at the farm?” Abel’s voice was like a knife to your heart. 

“Yea, it was someone looking to sell me something.” You lied straight through your teeth to both boys. 

“Oh.” Thomas said as he passed by both you and Nero without second guessing your statement and walked right past his older brother into the house. 

Abel looked like he might need more convincing but you could tell he decided to drop it. “I’m goin’ out later but I picked up the feed order and left it in the ATV wagon.” 

“12AM curfew.” You pointed at him and he waved you off but you knew he’d be back before 1. 

“What was he sellin’?” Nero asked you, the only one besides you who knew exactly who it was that was here. 

You looked at Nero and shook your head at him.

“A dream.”

#SOA #Sons of Anarchy #Sons #SOA Fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfic #chibs telford #chibs telford fanfiction #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs x reader #chibs telford x reader #teller sister #jax teller sister #jax teller sister reader

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | In Motion

Moving on is scary. Moving back won't bring you forwards. But moving with someone at your side can be exciting.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, MCs Ex, police, Jungkook being the victim of bullying (dw), fluff?, nsfw but it's very light (sorry)

Length: 6k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

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“Its funny how a woman can change a man.” Yoongi mentions, sitting at the big company dinner next to Jungkook, who's both visibly distracted and upset to be present, phone being checked every few minutes or so- and Yoongi knows who he might be texting with. “why didn’t you bring her along?” He wonders, while Jungkook sighs.  

“I’m actually not sure.” He admits. “I’ve been given a plus-one like always, and I planned on inviting her- but then I.. chickened out.” He shakes his head. “these events are boring as hell.” He says, eating his food with not much interest.  

“What is she doing at home instead?” Yoongi asks, setting his own cutlery aside as he’s finished his plate.  

“Cooking. She sent me a picture of some.. macaroni and cheese she made from scratch.” Jungkook smiles to himself as he thinks to the image you’ve sent him with multiple excited emojis to convey your happiness over it- having tried to wing it for the first time. “now she’s most likely watching her favorite show since it’s Tuesday.” He shrugs.  

“Wow.” Yoongi jokes. “That’s so much more exciting, damn.” He flatly tells his friend, who rolls his eyes. “Jungkook, have you actually asked her if she’d ever want to tag along?”  

“…Yes.. and she said she wouldn’t mind..” He admits shamefully so.  

“Then bring her next time. You act as if you and her are George and Maria over there. You’re not sixty for God’s sake, and she didn’t turn legal yesterday either.” Yoongi shakes his head with laughter, amused by his best friend. He’s noticed the change in him pretty much immediately after the younger guy had returned from his vacation and days taken off- looking almost ten years younger, happy and most of all carefree. There was no worry on his face, no thoughts wrinkling his brows, no annoyance and clear signs of boiling burnout left.  

“I.. want to ask her to move in with me.” Jungkook admits suddenly, staring at his food. “I know it’s a bit fast but.. I feel like this time, she really is the one for me.” He tells his friend, who shrugs.  

“Its your decision. I’m happy you found someone good.” He simply answers him, refusing to really help in that regard. Jungkook can make this decision all by himself, after all. 

And he should. 

Back at his place, where he puts the car keys on the kitchen counter before he unbuttons his shirt to get ready to shower, he takes a small look around. The cooking utensils he bought just for you are still here, and so is your favorite blanket. The pillows he got are littering the couch, and yet, only you are missing.  

You’re missing.  

Even though you’re technically not even meant to be here all the time yet.  

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Jungkook has become.. suspicious, to say the least.  

You’ve been together for a few months now after all, and ever single one of them, for the same week or so, you vanish out of sight. And he’s not stupid. 

He knows you don’t have an affair with someone else, or your work simply always calls you in during that time, because he knows you escape his sight even when you have days off. No, he knows exactly what it is, and he honestly doesn’t really know why you do it.  

Do you think it grosses him out? Or that he doesn’t know how to deal with it? Knowing you at this point, he might just be right.  

But he also can’t force you to come out and be with him during that time of the month if you don’t want to. You have to want this all by yourself, because otherwise, how can you both build a relationship that’s not the same as your past? He’s not that much better from your past boyfriend if he was to just overstep a boundary you clearly still have.  

Back at work in his private office, he contemplates on messaging you. That could help, right? He types out a simple message, letting you know that if it really is what he thinks happens every month, then you don’t have to be worried at all.

He doesn’t mind. At all.  

So he just texts you- tells you that if you ‘need anything at all’, he’d just bring it over and leave you be if that’s what you’re most comfortable with. However, instead of just texting back, you call him- making him wave towards his secretary in a manner that shows her he is for now unavailable unless urgent. “Well hello, darling.” He chuckles when he picks up the call, unaware that on the other end, his words still make you horribly shy.  

“Sorry for not.. Uhm.. You know, calling you or anything.” You say, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.  

“It’s no bother. We’re both still getting used to things, after all.” He reminds you. “Though I’d love some sign of life every now and then in the future. Just a quick ‘hey, I’m doing ok’ is really enough for me.” He offers.  

“Sorry. I’ll think about it from now on.” You say, though Jungkook is pleased to hear that you don’t just do it out of submission- but that it sounds a lot more like relief, almost. As if you’ve waited for him to say this. “But uhm.. What do you mean by, ‘if I need anything’?” You wonder.  

“I’m assuming you avoid me every month due to your period.” He says, and you just meekly answer with a sigh, and a ‘yeah’. “It’s no bother to me, really. It’s not gross or whatever you might think.” 

“I’m just.. Moody and stuff. I’m worried I might.. I don’t know, be mean to you on accident.” You warn him, and he just laughs it off.  

“I’m not that fragile, love.” He jokes. “And I doubt that you’ll end up calling me an asshole every second of the day if we spend time together.”  

“No, I’d never!” you defend yourself, making him chuckle. “I just get cranky, and I don’t know.. I might just get onto your nerves.” You warn him. 

“You could turn full on toddler on me, and I’d still take care of you.” He jokes. “I really don’t mind. How about we meet up later, and I’ll cook us something at your place? I have the weekend off, we could spend it together.” He offers, clicking a little through the rest of the E-Mails he has for today. “Or you could always.. Stay over at my place as well. You know I love it when you’re there with me.” He says. 

You really like his place. To the point, where you actually begin to miss being there, despite having loved your little apartment for so long until now. It’s odd how his house has become somewhat of a safe-space, even thinking about it makes you feel good. And hearing that he personally enjoys having you over as well offers you some sort of hope that maybe one day, he might even want you there permanently.  

What could living with him look like? 

How long until he gets annoyed with you? 

“I really like your home.” You confess quietly, and he waves off his secretary that’s about to knock- because he can feel he’s potentially at the very cusp of something. “Do you.. I mean..” You mumble, before you sigh. “Yeah sure, let’s uhm.. Spend the weekend together.” You tell him, and he realizes quickly that your tone is not very confident at all, despite the fact that you’re trying to make it seem like it is.  

“It could be your home too, you know?” 

He waits for you to answer, and he knows this needs some time to be thought through, but he truly believes that you’re the one for him. It doesn’t have to happen right away either- but he wants you to know that the option is there, if you’d like to take it someday.  

“I-“ you start, when he can hear your doorbell ring in the background. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You tell him, leaving the phone for a little bit, silence the only thing that Jungkook gets to hear. Your phone probably cancels out whatever quiet noise might be there, so he’s unsure what’s going on, until you return to the phone again. “Can I call you back later?” You say after a moment, voice almost whispering.  

“What’s wrong?” He asks, immediately alarmed by your behavior. He presses for an answer by saying your name- but still, you don’t answer. Until you finally do.  

“He’s here.” You say, 

And Jungkook immediately grabs the keys to his car, rushing out as fast as he can.  

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Jungkook isn’t sure what he expected your ex to look like. But seeing him now, in front of your door as Jungkook walks closer, he feels his blood boil. 

The man is not quite as tall as he is just like you mentioned a few months back, but he’s clearly training for muscle. A very intimidating body, and the second the man turns towards him, he spots the things you’ve told him before as well. His facial features are a lot sharper than Jungkook’s, eyes dark as they muster him up and down, frown on his face. “What do you want?” He asks, voice deep, raspy. Most likely from smoking- cigarette smell still clinging to the man in front of him. 

“I’d like to visit my girlfriend, if you’d be so polite to make space for me to enter the door, please.” Jungkook speaks, tone held at a very specific tone as to not give away any emotions for his opponent to pick up on. 

“Oh, so she got a rich guy now.” Your ex says, leaning back, arms crossed- most likely to present his muscles, something that Jungkook thinks looks simply childish. “Tell her she owes me money. I need it asap, and she keeps avoiding me.” He explains, and Jungkook nods.  

“I’d love to tell her that.” He says. “But you’re still blocking the door.” he says, noticing both the very clear and sharp smell of alcohol, and the way he slightly sways a bit. 

It’s quiet for a good moment, both men staring each other down, before your ex moves to the side, though it’s clear that he doesn’t do it as to admit defeat. Jungkook takes the chance and knocks at your door now, prepared that your ex might try and slip inside the second you open it. “Hey- it’s me.” Jungkook tells you through the door, and at that, you open it just a little bit, like you’re trying to check if he’s actually there or not.  

Once you look at him, his entire face softens. 

You look like a panicked animal that just escaped a shot to the head, eyes wide, staring up at him. At the sight of Jungkook you instantly open the door wider to welcome him inside, and he himself is quick to shut the door right behind him, a hand having tried to keep it open last second. 

“I’m here now.” Jungkook reassures you while you cling to him, your ex having moved to knock and ring the doorbell constantly, angry about Jungkook’s antics. “Don’t worry. Let’s call someone to deal with him, and then we’ll go from there, alright?” He explains to you, as you detach yourself a bit, taking a few deep breaths at the instruction of Jungkook who’s still holding your arms as if to steady you. “Go sit down, I’ll make the call. Did he hurt you at all?” He worries, but you shake your head. 

“I didn’t let him in.” You answer quietly, and Jungkook nods. 

“Which is the best thing you could’ve done. Good job.” He praises, helping you sit down in your bedroom, as far away from the front door, which is still being tortured, as possible, before he walks back out into your kitchen, phone on his ear to call the police. 

It all happens a lot quicker than he would’ve thought- your ex having apparently had gone against some very important guidelines he’s been given after a more recent violent crime he’s committed. “You can file in for a restraining order.” The officer tells Jungkook who nods. “Judging by the fact that he’s known already, that might be for the best. Those people are too unhinged to really be trusted.” 

“Yeah, seeing him in person today has definitely made up my mind about some legal restrictions placed onto him.” Jungkook agrees. “Thank you for dealing with him so quickly.”  

“No problem. You two have a calm rest of your day.” The officer says, before they drive off, your ex in the back of the police car. 

The second he’s back in your home, having realized he actually knows the pin-code to your door, he carefully opens the bedroom door where you’re still hiding on your bed- and the second he nods, you get the message letting go of a deep breath, leaning against him the second he sits down on your bed. “The officer said we should probably file a restraining order towards him.” Jungkook tells you. “I think that’s a good idea as well. It would.. Definitely help me, knowing that he can’t get close to you.” 

“...wait- it’s Tuesday, you were at work-!” You suddenly say, realizing that he probably left work early just to be here now. “You can go back now, I swear I’m fine-” 

“The office won’t burn down just because I’m not there darling, relax.” He laughs, running a hand up and down your arm. “I’ve got the day off tomorrow anyways, and after that I’ll work from home for a while. So it’s not that bad, I promise.” He explains to you, who slowly nods. “And it was a family-emergency after all. They all surely understand that I suddenly ran off.” He jokes- 

Though you feel oddly emotional at the mention of that phrase. 

“Family emergency?” You ask quietly, and he nods, easily, as if it’s no big deal.  

“My girlfriend was in trouble. I’d count that as a family emergency.” He shrugs, and you look at your knees, unsure about what to think. “Which, by the way.. And you can totally say no, it would be completely fine-” He starts, before he continues his sentence once you look at him. “-but.. My parents might want to meet you.” He reveals, strangely... shy almost. 

“Might?” You wonder, and he nods, before sighing. 

“I might’ve let it slip that we’re.. Well, a couple.” He admits. “And I can’t help it, really.” 

“Can’t help what?” You wonder, making him play with the silver rings on his bottom lip. 

“I tend to.. Ramble on and on when it comes to you. So when they asked about you, I just.. I couldn’t help it. And now my family is very much curious to meet you.” He explains, and you smile to yourself. 

“Well.. I mean, I don’t mind?” You say. “What’s the worst that can happen, am I right?”  

“Oh god you don’t know my family.” He dramatizes playfully. “My mother can be a handful, and my brother will most likely just go on and on about some embarrassing stuff that happened when we were kids.” he groans, and you can’t help but grin. 

“Are you scared I might end up hearing something you’d otherwise keep from me?” You wonder, and he glares at you, before he suddenly smiles. “But really. I don’t mind meeting them, if you’re okay with that.” You say. 

And Jungkook can’t help but lean over at that to kiss your lips, realizing just how serious you’re both getting. 

“You’re the only one I’d ever want them to meet.” 

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Jungkook’s parents have never liked his ex wife. 

That’s information you’ve been told later that night before Jungkook had left to go home- and you’re unsure how to think about that. You feel like there’s now a standard you have to reach, and you’re not sure if you can. If you meet them, and it doesn’t work out, what will they think of you?

Your ex has never really let you meet his parents much- only fleetingly, when you met them by chance at the local grocery store or in similar situations. You know that Jungkook has a brother who’s been married for much longer than Jungkook has been- will he judge you for being so much younger than Jungkook himself? 

Will his parents think you’re not a good fit for him because you’re too young? Or do they know already? 

You’re currently washing dishes from the breakfast Jungkook and you had at his place today, when the doorbell rings. You’ve spent the night after admitting that you weren’t feeling good about sleeping at your own place after what happened, and he understood- happily telling you that you can always stay at his house for as long as you’d like. You wonder if he meant permanently.   

He’s been hinting at it for quite a bit now.  

A dog almost jumps up on you, another one following- two tiny whippets excitedly yapping at you, before a young man calls them towards him. Only now do you see three people entering the house through the front door- an older couple, and the young man who you assume owns the dogs, Jungkook standing on the sidelines, hiding his face in his hand.  

“Oh, you must be her!” The woman says, and you instantly know that she must be his mother. He inherited quite a bit of her facial features, though you can also see his father in him as well, the man a lot quieter than her, simply hanging up her coat before greeting his son properly. “Oh you do look young! But very pretty.” She tells you, before she tells you her name.  “When did you change the furniture? It looks so much brighter in here without that weird sofa in the living room.” His mother exclaims, as Jungkook enters the open kitchen.  

“I- mom, when I said you could visit I didn’t mean today.!” Jungkook almost whines, before he throws you an apologetic look. “And also, what are you even doing here?” He asks the young man who very clearly has to be his brother from visual appearance alone.  

“Hey, I gotta know who the pretty girl is who caught my baby brother’s attention!” He teases, smacking Jungkook’s back. “You’ve been going on and on about her, you can’t blame me for being curious.” He explains himself, before he reaches out to you. “Junghyun. Nice to meet you.” He greets you, before he boldly moves to take a look inside the fridge.  

It's odd how you just instantly know the dynamic of his family from this small interaction alone.

Jungkook quickly somehow gets his family to sit in the living room while telling them that he’ll make them something to drink, before he joins you in the kitchen again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know when J talked to them yesterday that they would show up literally 24 hours later-“ he apologizes, but you wave him off.  

“Its.. not that big of a deal. They seem nice- and it would’ve had to happen at some point, right?” You wonder, and he nods.  

“Still, it must be at least somewhat uncomfortable. I know I’d like to be prepared to meet your parents.” He sighs, moving to make some coffee for his parents after pecking your lips once.  

“…would you?” You ask, and he turns around after clicking the right buttons on the coffee machine in front of him. “meet my parents, I mean.” You ask, unsure.  

“I.. yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck a little. “I’m.. I mean, I don’t know if they’re even aware that you’re seeing someone-“ 

“They are.” You admit. “they.. I told my mom. After we.. after Christmas.” You explain, and he listens with interest, letting you go at your own pace however. “She’s.. they both know you’re older, and my dad is not very happy about that. But my mom seemed welcoming of the idea.” You tell him honestly, and he nods. “they’re scared too, you know? After all that happened.”  

Jungkook nods. “I completely understand. And even without that-“ he shrugs. “-I guess any parents would be suspicious of a relationship like ours.” Be admits and you nod as well, well aware that your parents might not be as easy going as his are. “but well make it work. Right?” be asks, and you know what he’s asking.  

Not if you’re gonna make it work- but if your parent’s possibly being against your relationship could be a deal breaker for you.  

“Yeah.” You say, because you’re not going to let this be taken away from you, by anyone. You’ve had a taste of what your life could be like if you were to just let it happen- and you don’t want to hide away and be trampled over anymore. You want him, you want this life and this future you might have together- no matter what.  

And Jungkook can’t help but walk closer to you, kissing your lips while he tenderly holds your cheeks.  

“Mom, Jungkook is making out with his girlfriend instead of making Coffee!” his brother yells, and Jungkook leans back at that, jaw clenched and tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek while he’s got his eyes closed, having to restrain himself you imagine. But you can’t help and giggle at the situation- visions of what those two brothers might’ve been like as children filling your mind, curiosity growing.

What was he like before Evelyn? Before he married? Before he met her? 

“get out!” Jungkook barks, taking a towel from the sink to hit his brother with it, the laughing older male running off back into the living room, where you follow- carefully carrying the two cups of coffee Jungkook had forgotten in his playful rage against his sibling. 

“Thank you.” His mother says, smiling warmly, while his father only nods, face however gentle, and friendly. You sit down after that, in the corner of the sofa, listening to the two brothers fighting in Jungkook’s office, before his father speaks up.  

“My son mentioned that you two have.. Quite the age gap between you.” He says, and you nod. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He asks, and you shake your head. 

“It.. Did. In the beginning.” You admit, his father now visibly interested in your answer as he didn’t expect you to admit something like that so outright. “I was worried that he might.. Think of me as childish. Or that our ambitions might differ too much, since we’re both at different points in our lives.” You explain, his mother now listening in as well. “I mean.. Let's just take family-planning for example. He’s a lot closer to settling down than I am, technically.” You explain, and his mother nods. “But I realized that, if we talk about these issues, we can solve them together. Make compromises, so we can meet in the middle, so to speak.” 

“Has he spoken to you about his.. Past marriage?” His father asks, and you nod. 

“I’ve met his former wife a few times. And I’m.. Somewhat aware of the things that happened in the past- though I’m sure he didn’t tell me everything yet.” You say. “And I respect that. We’re still.. At the very beginning of our relationship after all.” You chuckle a little, nervously, but suddenly, his father smiles. 

“Stop interrogating my girlfriend just because I’m not here.” Jungkook interrupts the conversation, protectively sitting in between his father and you- though that wasn’t the smartest idea, since his father just quietly pats his back rather roughly, making Jungkook complain in embarrassment. “What the fuck dad?” He asks, but his father just laughs. 

“Stop hitting him darling, you’re gonna break his back!” His mother complains, and you can’t help but smile at the mention of that petname- making it clear where Jungkook got the habit from, since he calls you the same most of the time. It’s cute. 

You’re happy to see that he has such a nice family.  

“So, when are you gonna bring a kid into this world, huh?” His brother asks shamelessly, making Jungkook choke on his water. “Hey, come on. I’ve got the second one on the way, you can’t make me do all the work here!” He teases, making Jungkook turn towards you. 

“I’m so sorry- if you want them to leave, just tell me.” He says towards you, but much to his dismay, you shake your head. 

“I don’t mind them.” You say, and his brother grins, before he leans forwards towards you. 

“Did you know that Jungkook used to be scared of the microwave-” Jonghyun starts, and Jungkook throws his head back, groaning in agony.  

All while you can’t help but be happy that his family seems to like you. 

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Later on, once they all left again, he talks to you once more in the living room after the dishes had been washed, and you both had gotten ready to just laze around and go to bed later. “I’m really sorry they showed up unannounced. That was terrible of them-” He shakes his head still, holding you in his arms on the couch while a random TV series plays quietly in the background, commercial break ongoing. “-and I’m also sorry I left you alone with them. I hope they didn’t interrogate you too hard.” 

“It was fine.” You brush off, telling the truth. “We just.. Spoke about the age gap.” You explain, and Jungkook sighs. “And I told them that, you know, yes, it did bother me at first. And I know that it bothered you too.” You admit, making him stare blankly, listening to your words. “But that we.. Work together. If problems occur, we find compromises. Put equal effort into it so we meet in the middle, you know what I mean?” You say, and he nods. 

“Yeah, I see where you’re coming from. What did they answer to that?” He wonders, but you shrug. 

“He just asked if I knew Evelyn, and I said that yes, I’ve met her a few times.” You remember. “And that I know you probably didn’t yet tell me everything, but that it’s fine because neither have I. Since we’re still.. Pretty new.” You offer. “And then you came back, so we didn’t talk further.” 

“My brother can be so terrible, I swear.” He huffs. “Two years older and thinks he’s always got the upper hand in everything..” He mumbles. 

“Well, from what I’ve been told, he is a bit quicker with things than you.” You giggle. “Second marriage, second child-” 

“Second job after he kept slacking off at his first, second house because he got kicked out of the first, second dog because one wasn’t enough-” Jungkook goes on, and you can’t help but laugh out loud. “-Hey, stop laughing about that!” He complains, moving his hands to pinch your sides, only causing your laughter to intensify as you try and slip away from him. But you’re unsuccessful, rather ending up somewhat manhandled down into the couch, with him above you, your wrists pressed into the cushions below you. 

It doesn’t take long for him to lean in and kiss you, the knowledge of everything that happened today settling in. You’ve been so understanding about everything, calm and collected even though he knew that you must’ve been at least somewhat intimidated by the whole situation. You still handled it perfectly in his opinion, facing it all head on. 

He’s so in love with you.  

His kisses slow down after a moment or two- and you know why they do. He’s not really a fan of getting heated on the couch of all places, preferring the bedroom or maybe the shower- and sure, you have indeed gotten rather scandalous in other places of his house before, but if he can control himself, he does.  

Laying next to you, your head on his biceps, he just observes you for a moment before he speaks again.  

“Move in with me.” He says, and you’re caught by surprise at the sudden proposal. “I’ve got.. Enough space. A room you can have just for yourself if you ever want some time to yourself. I can continue renting out your old place too if you’d like.” He tells you, hand resting on your waist. “Just.. I’d like to have you close. Every day.” He says. “And night of course.” 

“I mean.. if you’re okay with that?” You say, unsure. “you don’t have to do it just because.. we’re a couple, you know? I can be.. a little chaotic, and loud, you might not-“ 

“I wouldn’t have proposed the idea if I didn’t want it, darling.” He chuckles, easing your mind quite a bit. “Think about it though, before you answer me now. I realize I might’ve come off a bit.. strong with how I phrased it.” He hums, slowly sitting up again with you next to him. “What I really want to say is.. If you wanted to move in with me, I’d welcome you with open arms so to say.” He offers, and you nod.  

“I’ll think about it.”  

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“Hm?” You wonder still half asleep, Jungkook right behind you with his hands running over your skin, legs entangled and lips kissing the back of your neck.  

“You’ve been sleeping for ages.” He complains lightly, his own eyes barely open. “been waiting for you to wake up.”  

“..whats.. why?” You ask, moving a little to stretch your legs out.  

“hm, why..” he just repeats, hands traveling further and further until one of them finds its way beneath your light shirt you wear, bare chest warm beneath his palm. It’s clear to you now what exactly he’s been aiming for when waking you up- intentions obvious, especially with the way he presses himself into you from behind.  

You do have to admit, that it’s been a few days since the last time you two got together like this. With some stress at his work and your own life, you didn’t want to bother him too much- rather deciding to let him reach out on his own, so you know that he’s up for it.  

“You smell nice.” Jungkook comments, running his nose over the crook of your neck. “Is that the.. pink bottle you left here last time?” He asks a bit slurred, himself still somewhat asleep.  

“Hmhm.” You nod. “It’s.. yeah. I forgot it.” You explain, moving a bit to give him better access, and also to show that you’re okay with this. “it’s body lotion.”  

“smells better on you than it does on me.” He chuckles. 

“You used it?” You wonder, and he shrugs, before moving to position himself over you, reaching into his bedside table for a condom.  

“Hey you left it here!” He defends himself. “but it didn’t smell as nice on me.” He admits, shrugging before he moves to shed his cotton pajama pants- the shirt long gone, a habit of his during the night.  

“Well, now I’m here.” You say, and he nods, smiling.  

“You are.” He agrees, tapping your hips to make you lift them, his hands pulling down your underwear and sleep shorts off in one go. He gives the condom to you for now, before he lifts your legs over his shoulders, head lowering between your thighs to eat you out. He’s got a habit of holding eye contact with you during the act, and even now, he does so- soaking up every one of your reactions, eager to see you restless beneath his touch.  

This is the type of love he’d hoped for when he married. This is what he thought could grow from nothing.  

But he’s realizing now that that was a mistake- you can’t just hope for the best and then be disappointed when things don’t turn out the way you’d wanted them. There’s got to be effort put into it, and knowing that now makes him accept the fact that his ex wife isn’t the only reason his marriage failed. He himself also made mistakes, many of them- agreeing to going out with her when he didn’t love her being one of them.  

There’s no clear villain and no obvious victim in his story.  

Your skin is soft beneath his hands as he runs them up and down the sides of your legs- body squirming from his actions beneath them, as you experience things you haven’t before. You’ve never really had anyone ever pay so much attention to you in any way- be it sexually or just with the way that he calls daily to make sure he at least checks in with you whenever you’re apart. And thinking about it, there’s nothing speaking against living together- what's really the worst that could happen? 

You’ve been through the worst. You know that Jungkook would never be anything close to that. 

Your hand finds its way into his hair, unsure where else it’s supposed to go- and you’re faintly apologetic about the way you’re most likely tugging on it the second he pushes you over the edge- but he’s visibly uncaring of it, none of it bothering him it seems. He chuckles as he comes back up to you, wiping his face with his hand before he watches you open your eyes again to look at him. “You okay?” He chuckles, and you nod. 

“I want to move in with you.” You say, and he’s caught off guard, eyes wide for a second before he leans back a little to properly look at you.

“You sure?” He wonders, and you nod. 

“Hmhm.” You nod. “I.. Want to.” You tell him, and he smiles, clearly excited.  

“Okay.” He nods. “Okay! Yeah, we can.. Uhm, I mean, I’ve got the next week and a half set for home-office, so I can help you with the furniture?” He proposes, and you laugh, almost in relief, before he steals the still wrapped condom from your hand that's been holding it the entire time, face leaning down to kiss you.

"But first, let me love you some more."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

[devildom-drabbles]

Snippet - Stained with Red (MC Attacked by a Demon)

Here's the winning headcanon for the 1.5k+ Followers Celebration! I hope you all enjoy it! =) Warnings: Blood, bodily injuries, violence, swearing, implications/mentions of torture and death — (None of these are overly descriptive, though.) Note: Due to the length and type of content, each character's reactions can be found under the "Keep reading" cut-off. Tag List: @not-a-cat-lawyer, @deepestartisanhumanoidshark, @qilinelf

How does everyone react when MC has been attacked by a demon?

It was just supposed to be a quick errand.  Pick up a few items at the store and then head straight home—that’s all MC wanted to do.  But accidentally bumping into a demon in the crowded streets put a major dent in their plans.  Having already been in a sour mood, the demon snapped at MC’s unintentional shoulder-check and hardly gave them a chance to speak before dragging them to a more secluded area nearby.

“You think you’re so high and mighty here, don’t you, human?” the demon snarled after tossing MC’s body to the hard ground.  “You may have won the favor of our prince and seven lords, but that doesn’t give you any right to trample on us lower-ranking demons.”

Although MC attempted to explain themself and apologize, the demon simply spat, “Oh, shut it.  I’m sick of even breathing the same air as you.  It’s about time someone reminded you what demons are truly capable of.”

MC scrambled to their feet as the demon lunged at them.  A brief tussle ensued, one that left MC with parts of their clothes torn and few wounds on their skin while they struggled to escape the demon’s sharp clutches.  The fight would have been fatal to the human if they hadn’t managed to retrieve the defensive magic charm gifted to them by Solomon from within their pocket.  With the demon incapacitated by the charm’s power before striking another blow, MC hastily retreated back to the House of Lamentation.

More focused on getting to safety and trying to recover from the sudden attack, MC was too distracted to notice the individual almost directly on the other side of the house’s front door, causing the two of them to roughly collide when the human hurried inside.  Both of their groans echoed in the entrance hall. The one whom MC ran into was about to say something, only to stop short upon registering the disheveled and mildly bloody figure in front of him/her.

“MC?" was what came out instead.  "What happened?”

Still a bit shaken up, MC hesitated in answering the question right away.

The individual had come to care about MC during their time together in the Devildom, so there was no way that he/she was going to let them remain silent on this matter.  Thus, he/she promptly took them to another—more private—room, where MC soon ended up admitting everything.

“This is precisely why I tell you not to go out on your own,” Lucifer chided as he disinfected the last of MC’s open wounds.  It was the first time he had spoken since bringing the human (and a first aid kit) into his bedroom and demanding that they explain exactly what happened to them while sitting them down on the sofa.  As they told their story, the powerful demon used his magic to heal their minor injuries and remove the dried blood from their clothing and skin, and then he tended to the few, more severe wounds on their body, not allowing MC to do it themself.  His touch was surprisingly gentle against their injuries, a significant contrast to his stern expression that was just barely containing his growing anger while he listened to what the spiteful demon did to the human he held dear.

“I’m certain you’ve learned your lesson,” Lucifer remarked, moving on to bandage the wound he had cleaned, “but in light of these events, you’re not permitted to leave my side for the rest of the day.  I’ll also be accompanying you to and from RAD this whole week.  Do I make myself clear?”  Knowing that there was no room for argument—and because they’d genuinely feel safer by Lucifer’s side—MC accepted his decision, which effectively removed some of the tension from his shoulders. “Good," he said.

Upon ensuring that all of MC’s physical injuries were taken care of, Lucifer reached out to rest his hand on their cheek, his gaze becoming warmer.  “I’m glad you’re safe.  I’m sure you were frightened, but you did well in keeping your wits about you and pulling through to escape.  I promise, I won’t let that demon harm you again.”

Afterward, Lucifer obeyed just about any request MC had—from making their favorite food for dinner, to holding them in his arms whenever they were alone—in an effort to ease any lingering anxiety they felt and remind them (and himself) that they were safe with him.  Once the human was fast asleep in his bed, the affectionate smile faded from his face as his serious features took over once more.  With them protected in his room, he took this opportunity to hunt down the demon who assaulted them.  The details from MC’s story, the type of scratch marks and wounds he saw, and the scent left on MC’s clothing were enough to help him pinpoint the exact culprit, so he headed straight to where they lived.

If the low-ranking demon wasn’t wide awake from the sound of their door being kicked down, they certainly were at the sight of Lucifer in his demon form looming over them.

“So,” he began darkly, “you’re the one who attacked MC.  Do you have anything to say for yourself?  Think carefully.  They may be your last words.”

The red gradient from Lucifer’s irises seemed to glow within the dark room and foreshadow the color the quivering demon's body would be stained with when he was through with them.  No one messed with what belonged to the Avatar of Pride.

“Ya should’ve called me right away!” Mammon declared, fumbling over the bandaging that he was attempting to secure around MC’s swollen wrist.  He had been doing his best to help MC clean up from the attack in his bedroom, giving them some of his loungewear to change into and using the house’s first aid kit to address their cuts and bruises.  All the while, he bit his tongue for as long as he could while the human explained their quarrel with the demon in town.  At this point, he couldn’t hold back his thoughts anymore.  “I could’ve taken ‘em down in no time flat, y’know!  And I promised ya that I would save ya next time something like this happened, remember?  But now I gotta patch ya up instead.  Tch, damn demon, touchin’ what don’t belong to ‘em...  Hey, don’t give me that look!  I fixed ya up just fine after that TSL contest with Levi, didn’t I?  So I can do it now, too, no problem!  Just—”

Mammon paused as he stared down at MC’s wrist, his jaw clenching from how much damage the demon had done to his most precious human.  His voice quieted down into a more solemn tone, “—don’t make me have to do this again, MC.  It doesn’t matter if I’m busy or somewhere else, ya better tell me the next time ya even think about goin’ out alone so that I can come with ya, got it?  No ‘buts’ about it.  ...Gahh, why’d this stupid bandage come undone?!”  He growled at the inanimate object—despite his true fury stemming from the demon who caused the wounds that he had to bandage—before redoing the wrapping process from the beginning.  “I swear, when I find who did this to ya, MC, I’m really gonna let ‘em have it!”

For the remainder of the day, Mammon was glued to MC’s side, appearing “more clingy and overbearing than usual” in his brothers’ eyes.  Of course, if anyone questioned his behavior, he simply refuted it with a red face and asserted that he just-so-happened to need to go to the same places MC went to throughout the house.  In truth, he couldn’t shake off his concerns for their well-being and wanted to be the first to jump to their aid if anything else happened, such as if their injuries worsened.  They were obviously safe from harm in the house, but Mammon found it impossible to relax unless they were within his line of sight, to the extent that he had to be in the same room (if not the same bed) as MC that night.  In order for this feeling to stop, he needed to locate the demon responsible for this, and fast.  So, in the early morning hours before MC awoke, he sent out his crows to gather intel on the low-ranking demon’s name and whereabouts.

The crows returned to Mammon just after dinner, and he left the house in a hurry, shouting back to his puzzled brothers and MC about how he was off to win big at the casino.  Soon after his arrival, he spotted his target at one of the poker tables and challenged them to play one-on-one with him.  Since Mammon didn’t have much money on hand, the demon accepted, thinking it would only last a few rounds at the most.  However, the Avatar of Greed kept winning until the demon was out of money/chips.  They tried to call it quits, but he wouldn’t allow them to leave, insisting that they still owed a lot after what they did to MC.  The color drained from the demon’s face at this realization.

“Didn't I mention that we’re playin’ ‘all or nothing’ tonight?” Mammon questioned with a smirk.  “Should we try a different ‘game’ then?  ‘Cause I ain’t nearly satisfied—not ’til I bleed ya dry.”

Although he urgently wanted to know what happened, Leviathan panicked more at how roughed up MC looked as they stood before him, so his brain temporarily went into a fear-induced autopilot.  He hastily dragged them to his room with a first aid kit, sat them down on the floor with him, and began handling their wounds without fretting over how he was touching them.  Hearing MC express their thanks managed to snap him out of his trance and drive him to apologize profusely for putting his “yucky otaku hands all over” them.  With their permission (and reassurance), he cautiously resumed his task while they told him about the events that put them in their current physical state.

“Ugh, normies are already terrible, but that demon is the worst of them all,” Levi commented bitterly.  “They’re stupider and scummier than Mammon, and that’s saying something.  I mean, you’re S-tier status, MC!  Nobody should be able to touch you at all, not even me!  You really are an angel for putting up with being this close to me.”  

He cleared his throat.  “A-Anyway, if anything, this is a good reason to stick to ordering the things you need online instead of going out to buy them.  That’s what I normally do, and it hasn’t failed me yet.  So, when we’re done here, let’s go on Akuzon to buy the stuff you were trying to get earlier.  And, um, if it’ll help, you’re welcome to chill out here with me for the rest of the day.  We can catch up on some anime and play that new game I was telling you about the other day, and you can borrow my Ruri-chan pillow and blanket set for extra comfort!  It’s like the best otaku-certified medicine for any ailment, don’t you think?”

Since they enjoyed his company and wanted to take their mind off of what happened to them, MC agreed to Levi’s ideas.  In turn, Levi did whatever he could to ensure that the human was having fun and felt relaxed the whole time they were together.  A sense of relief washed over him when he witnessed MC smiling for the first time since they came home.  It was good that they were at ease with him, but he still wished he could do more for them...

Levi's wish came true when, later, he and MC decided to play an online co-op game, using their own accounts and on separate computer screens at the otaku’s desk.  Through their headsets, they could communicate with their randomly assigned opponents during each round, and it was at the start of a new match that MC recognized one of the voices.  The sound of the player’s angry shouting toward the game’s mechanics caused the human to yank off their headset while pushing their chair away from the computers.  Levi slid his headphones down around his neck to hear them admit that a certain player was the same hostile demon from earlier before logging off and excusing themself to the bathroom.  Seeking to avenge his Henry, the Lord of Shadow mercilessly targeted the demon in the game and mocked their skills throughout the match.  But just winning against them in a game wasn’t enough—Levi needed to destroy them in the real world, too.  A bit of hacking gave him the location of the demon he was playing against, bringing a triumphant yet menacing grin to his face.

Upon receiving a threat from the attacker for him to fight them in reality, Levi simply answered, “Gladly,” before logging off.

When MC returned to the bedroom after a while, all that awaited them was a note from Levi stating that he would be back after taking Lotan out for “an urgent mission."

Satan could physically feel the wrath boiling and intensifying within him the more that MC spoke about the incident in town.  He initially was working alongside them in his bedroom to properly address their injuries, using his knowledge to determine which ones could be healed with magic and which ones required the items from the first aid kit.  However, he reached a point where his thinking grew too clouded and his movements became too rough, so he had to step aside to let the human handle the rest of their wounds while they continued to talk.  Then, just as they had come to the end of their story, Satan abruptly changed into his demon form.  He was seething with pure rage as his tail whipped wildly behind him, knocking over some of the book piles in his bedroom in the process. 

“I’m going to rip them to shreds,” the Avatar of Wrath hissed, overwhelmed with resentment toward MC’s attacker.  “Where exactly did you leave them, MC?  They might still be stuck from Solomon’s magic charm, so now’s my chance to teach them a lesson.”

MC tried to calm him, but their words fell on deaf ears.  Satan seemed to be too far gone to care about anything other than taking revenge on the “brainless” demon who laid their hands on someone so important to him.  As such, he started to push through MC when they attempted to prevent him from leaving, only to freeze at the sight of the human wincing in pain.  His hand had accidentally squeezed the injury on their arm while he was trying to pull them away from the door.  That was all it took for him to finally stop seeing red and reconsider his priorities.  With a deep exhale, as if to let out all of his fuming rage, his demon form disappeared, and he looked back at MC in a much kinder yet still troubled manner.

After confirming that MC was okay, Satan’s tone became softer as he said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you like that.  I...couldn’t think straight at all, and I almost lost sight of what matters most right now.”  He patted their head with a smile.  “Thank you for helping me come back to my senses.  Let me take another look at what you’ve patched up to make sure everything is good for now.  Then, I think it would be best for your body if you took a short nap.  You can stay here in my room so my brothers won’t disturb you, and, if you’d like, I could sit beside you and read you a book until you fall asleep.  ...Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Satan did just as he stated, but while MC slept, he started getting in touch with his countless acquaintances via text message in hopes of acquiring any further information about the demon who harmed MC earlier.  A few eyewitness accounts of the fight’s aftermath and some exchanges of info enabled him to figure out the hostile demon’s identity.  With the hardest part taken care of, he spent his time in between hanging out with MC and reassessing their injuries to plot their attacker’s impending doom.

RAD classes had just ended for the day when Satan cornered the demon, who happened to be a student, into a classroom under the guise that he wanted to learn more about one of their hobbies.  Once the rest of the students had left the room, he casually locked the door before replacing his friendly façade with his demon form.

“You put MC through a lot of pain yesterday, you know,” Satan remarked with a monstrous expression as the low-ranking demon hurriedly backed away from him.  “For that, I intend to give you an experience a hundred times worse than what you did to them.  I even read through the latest books on torture just for this occasion.  Are you ready?  Because I sure am.”

While leading them upstairs, Asmodeus actually decided to hold off on having MC discuss the details of their situation in favor of tending to their physical condition.  He whisked them into his large bathroom, filled the tub with warm water and a mix of bath salts and oils that loosen tense muscles and promote healing, and instructed the human to take a bath (whether or not he stayed with them and helped was entirely MC’s choice).  Once they were done, Asmo gave them a soft robe to wear and brought them to his room so that they could rest on his bed while he basically gave them a mini spa day.  His voice encouraging them to relax was as delicate as his touch on the injuries he examined.  He then used magically enhanced ointments on any reddened or bruised areas of their skin and bandaged the more severe wounds.  

By this time, MC was ready to reveal how they got hurt, and with their approval, Asmo settled down at their side to gently cuddle with them.  When he normally listens to stories, he’s prone to be rather vocal and interject during key parts, but considering the context of this one, he kept his lips sealed from start to finish.

“You did absolutely nothing wrong, MC,” Asmo reassured them.  “That nasty demon should’ve never acted that way toward you.  If you ask me, it sounds like they were jealous of your popularity.  We all love you because of who you are, and someone with an ugly personality like that demon won’t ever receive such positive attention.  I almost feel sorry for them.  ...Oh, that gives me an idea!”  

He grabbed his phone and began tapping away on the screen, prompting MC to question what he’s doing.  “Well, if they’re so eager for attention,” he replied, “then that’s exactly what they’ll get.  A little quality time with me should set them straight.  ...Hm?  What do I mean?  Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dear.  I’ll take care of everything.  Soon, that no-name nobody will be a forgotten memory.”  He then set aside his phone to completely refocus on his precious human, pampering all of their pain and troubles away.

That evening, a notification sound pinged on Asmo’s phone, bringing a giddy smile to his face.  Earlier, he had reached out to his social media followers to help him track down the one who assaulted MC, and it looked like a group of his fans now had that demon in their clutches as they awaited Asmo’s orders on what to do next.  With a skip in his step, he headed off to “a special gathering with his adoring fans,” leaving MC in his brothers’ care for the time being.  The bubbling delight in his features grew more wicked the moment he locked eyes with the captured demon at the designated meeting place.

“Why, hello there,” Asmo greeted as he walked closer.  “You must be the naughty demon who just couldn’t keep their hands to themself when they saw my darling MC.  But you didn’t ask for consent and went way too far with them, so now I’m going to do the same with you.”  He giggled at their reaction.  “Aw, you’re just dying with anticipation for what I have in store for you, huh?  As much as I’d love to give you the full ‘Asmo treatment,’ I don’t want to ruin my freshly manicured nails, so I’m going to leave half of the work to my adoring fans here.  Everyone, watch me closely!  This is how you punish a bad demon.”

About an hour later, MC came across a new post on Asmo's Devilgram.  It was a photo of him surrounded by a bunch of others holding or drinking glasses of Demonus with the caption: “Cheers to all these lovelies for their hard work today!  My fans are the best! ❤ ”

“I’m so sorry, MC,” Beelzebub said, guilt etched on his face while he assisted MC in tending to their wounds.  With how worn out the human looked when they arrived home, he had decided to carry them to their bedroom so that they could rest a bit while he took care of their needs, such as fetching them some food and water from the kitchen and picking out clean clothes from their dresser.  Soon enough, MC finally had the strength to explain what transpired between them and the malicious demon in town.  The details saddened Beel greatly and reminded him of how he wasn’t able to protect Lilith, leading him to blame himself for the pain that MC experienced.  “I should’ve gone with you.  Then I would’ve been able to stop that demon from hurting you.”

After MC reassured that none of this was his fault, Beel felt a little better, but the guilt continued to gnaw at him relentlessly, just like his hunger always did.  “I know,” he replied, “but I still wish I could’ve been there to save you before things turned out the way they did.  I don’t like seeing you in this state.”  His eyes somberly trailed over the human’s beaten figure before he gave a serious firm nod, making an unbreakable vow to himself and them.  “I won’t let this happen to you anymore, MC.” With their approval, he then (carefully) wrapped them in his warm embrace.

Beel became rather overprotective of MC for a while, offering to help them with the smallest of tasks and even having Belphegor watch over them at home while he went out to get the items that they were shopping for earlier.  He also wanted to avoid making their injuries any worse, so he encouraged MC to eat and rest whenever they seemed sluggish and kept his hugs as gentle as possible.  He never strayed far from their side unless they asked him to or circumstances required them to be apart, such as when they had different RAD classes.  If one of his brothers was with MC, then he didn’t worry too much, but he strived to ensure that they were never alone, at least in public places.

About a week after the incident, when Beel and MC were waiting for their order in Café Lament at one of the indoor tables, MC’s whole body tensed the moment they witnessed their attacker walk through the door.  Beel noticed the abrupt change in their demeanor, so he asked them what was wrong.  They gave him a hushed answer along with a subtle motion toward the demon waiting in line.  Beel then draped his jacket over their shoulders—as if to provide them with an impenetrable layer of protection—and instructed them to stay at the table.  Without another word, he approached the low-ranking demon, grabbed them by the face with one hand, and dragged them out of the café.  He ignored their muffled pleas as he rounded a street corner and then slammed the back of their body against the outside wall of another building.

“You tried to kill someone who matters a lot to me—and to my family, too,” Beel declared, his tone strongly matching his intimidating features.  “I can never forgive you for that.  You should be grateful that I’m going to make this quick.”

Beel later returned to the busy café just in time for his and MC’s order to be brought to their table.  After assuring MC that the demon wouldn’t bother them again, he retrieved his jacket, zipping it up the whole way to cover the splattered stains on his black shirt.  When asked about the stains, he simply replied that they were caused by the snack he ate before he came back.

MC’s unnaturally messy appearance snapped Belphegor’s lazy eyes wide open, and he checked if anyone was following behind them from outside before leading them to the attic with him, grabbing the first aid kit along the way.  Once both of them were sitting comfortably on the bed, Belphie casted the strongest healing spell he could remember to cure the bulk MC’s injuries and then asked them again to tell him how they got hurt.  Although he was prone to dozing off whenever he listened to a story, MC’s retelling of their encounter with their attacker kept him wide awake.  The sheer hatred that coursed through his veins were reminiscent of when he blamed humans for Lilith’s death.

“That bastard,” Belphie cursed through gritted teeth while working with MC to patch up their remaining wounds.  “They’re not going to get away with this.  I’ll make them pay for doing this to you, MC.”  He calmed down somewhat when he felt his favorite human place their hand overtop of his.  “...Well, I guess revenge can wait for now.  After all, you’re still here, and I want to hold you close for as long as I can before we’re inevitably interrupted by one of my brothers.  We’ve done all we can for your injuries, so why don’t you lie down to rest while I cuddle you?”

The warm snuggles with MC did make Belphie drowsy, but he struggled to fall asleep knowing that the demon who assaulted them was still on the loose.  Once the others found out what happened, he was sure they’d likely be on the hunt for the nameless demon as well, but he wanted to be the one who ultimately handled it, which he ended up voicing to his brothers.  So, the details of the incident remained strictly within the family, and by the end of the day, they had all the information they needed for Belphie to take care of MC’s attacker on his own.  Because of this, he was able to relax and smile more when he and Beel hung out with MC that evening.

During the lunch break at RAD the next day, Belphie roamed the halls in search of his prey.  His expression may have appeared grumpy or tired at a glance, but anyone who decided not to move out of his way witnessed the murderous intent in his eyes before he continued onward.  With no luck indoors, he headed outside to the school’s courtyard, where his gaze soon landed on MC’s attacker eating and conversing with a few other classmates on a bench.

“Hey, you,” Belphie said as he approached the small group, staring down at the oblivious demon.  “Get up.  You’re coming with me.  Now.”

Any sensible RAD student was aware that an order from a student council officer—or simply one of the seven demon brothers in general—could not be ignored, which led the demon to reluctantly follow behind Belphie without question.  When the two of them reached the back of the school, the Avatar of Sloth immediately switched into his demon form.

“I know what you did to MC,” Belphie declared with a dangerous look in his eyes.  The demon started to stutter out excuses, but their words abruptly became garbled from the pressure of Belphie’s hands around their neck.  “Save it.  Your fate was sealed the moment you touched them.  ...In pain already?  This is nothing compared to what I have in store for you.”

“I see...  And that’s what led to you rushing into the House of Lamentation like that at the same time I was leaving from my meeting with Lucifer,” Diavolo noted, his eyes closed thoughtfully as he took in the details of MC’s story.  With MC looking the worse for wear, he had contacted Barbatos to open a portal to the Demon Lord’s Castle so that he could provide them with the best treatment for their injuries and a new set of clothes.  Even with his and Barbatos’s combined efforts to clean and heal MC, he still called upon a doctor who was familiar with human physiology to double-check if there was anything else that needed to be done.  Determining that “rest” was the only other thing they needed, Diavolo dismissed Barbatos and the doctor and encouraged MC to take a nap in his bed while he did some work nearby in case they needed him.  It wasn’t until after MC slept a bit that they mentioned wanting to talk to him about their earlier predicament, which was why he was now seated across from the human in his room.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, MC,” Diavolo stated as he opened his eyes to gaze remorsefully into theirs.  “The denizens of the Devildom are allowed to have their own opinions, but none of them have the right to unjustly harm visitors from another realm because of those opinions.  Therefore, I will ensure that demon is found and receives a punishment fitting for their crime.  Your safety matters greatly to me, so I’ll continue to work towards a future where you and all other beings can peacefully coexist here.  I hope just knowing that relieves your stress a little.”

Still concerned about their condition, Diavolo reached out to Lucifer to let him know that MC would be staying overnight at the castle (and to provide him with a summary of the situation itself).  The prince also tasked Barbatos with tracking down the malicious demon so that he could finish his own work as soon as possible in order to spend time with the human he cherished.  If MC had any lingering fears, he offered them reassuring words and distracted them through fun activities.  It was MC’s choice that night whether they slept alone in one of the guest rooms or with him in his bed, securely wrapped in his arms.

It wasn’t long after the demon brothers picked up MC the following morning that Barbatos informed Diavolo that the demon who attacked MC had been located.  Shortly thereafter, the low-ranking demon was brought into his office for a private chat about their altercation the previous day.  He easily noticed the lies, exaggerations, and hidden hostility in their words, which made it more difficult for him to be professional the longer they spoke.  The last bit of patience that he was clinging onto disappeared completely when the attacker claimed that they “only wanted to give MC a good lesson on the true strength of demons.”  The prince rose from his seat, taking on his demon form as he promptly yanked the weaker demon up by the neckline of their shirt to bring them to his eye level.

“Your ‘lesson’ nearly killed them,” Diavolo declared sharply to the terrified demon.  “You would’ve not only disrupted the balance between the three realms, but also taken the life of someone who’s done a lot for me and the Devildom.”  He dropped MC’s attacker to the ground and loomed over their quaking figure.  His wings stretched wide while magic sparked from his fingertips.  “As punishment for your crimes of attempted murder and lying to your sovereign about it, allow me to teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget.”

Barbatos already knew that humans were fragile, but witnessing MC in such a damaged state was a painful reminder of that fact.  He wasted no time in bringing them straight to a guest room in the Demon Lord’s Castle through one of his portals, where he took it upon himself to take care of their wounds in an efficient yet tender manner.  The Little D.’s also provided their aid by fetching water, clothes, disinfectant, and any other items that the royal butler requested.

“If it’s too much for you to speak on the matter right now, then that’s all right,” Barbatos assured MC while casting healing magic on their body.  “However, I must ask that you reveal everything to me before you leave the castle.  It is imperative that I know the truth behind your injuries so that I can guarantee your safety in the future.  Furthermore, judging by what I’m seeing here, it’s likely that this incident affects Lord Diavolo’s goals, and I cannot allow anyone to threaten his work or the peace between the three realms.”

When MC felt that the time was right, Barbatos listened patiently as they finally disclosed that they had been assaulted by a demon in town.  Holding their hand in both of his own, he replied, “Thank you for telling me all of this, MC.  Lord Diavolo and I shall see to it that the demon who attacked you faces consequences for their actions, so you needn’t worry about them going after you anymore.  If you’re still feeling anxious, however, then you are more than welcome to remain here until you’re ready to return to the House of Lamentation.  ...And, if I’m being honest, I myself feel more at ease knowing that you’re safe and sound right by my side.  What I’m saying is, take all the time you need here.  It’s no trouble at all.”

For the duration of MC’s stay at the castle that day, Barbatos served the human dutifully as if he was their butler.  Whatever they required (as long as it was within reason), he made sure it was done, along with the completion of his regular daily tasks.  They even were permitted to sleep overnight there if that’s what they wanted, which also gave Barbatos the opportunity to cuddle them close and reassess their injuries for any additional treatment they may need. 

After MC left, Diavolo granted Barbatos permission to go back in time to see who exactly assaulted MC, with the condition that he couldn’t interact with anyone there.  Knowing he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself from the sight of someone so special to him being harmed, he entered the past at the time the demon was recovering from being incapacitated by the magic charm.  With their identity verified, he returned to the present time and located the demon’s whereabouts.  He lurked in the shadows, waiting for the low-ranking demon to be alone before knocking them unconscious from behind.

MC’s attacker awoke in shackles in a room filled with various weapons and dangerous devices.  Their stomach sunk at the sight of Barbatos’s sly grin from across the room, realizing that they were in the royal butler’s rumored torture room.

“I’m sure you know why you’re here,” Barbatos remarked as he picked up one of the weapons to toy with it.  “Your actions toward MC posed a great risk to both Lord Diavolo’s goals and the life of the one most precious to many others here, myself included.  Such misdeeds cannot be overlooked.  So, consider this your ‘karma.’  Or, if you’re not as strong as you act like you are, then perhaps ‘execution’ will be the more fitting word.”

Simeon was a nervous wreck from seeing MC’s condition, but he managed to remain calm enough to attend to their immediate needs once the two of them entered MC’s bedroom.  For the time being, he concluded that it was more important to prioritize the human’s health over learning how they ended up like this.  His voice and gestures contained their usual levels of warmth and gentleness while he took care of their injuries, but his worry lines deepened at each new bruise or open wound he came across.  He also became alarmed whenever MC flinched from the pain of certain injuries, causing him to apologize and ask if they were okay before continuing his self-assigned task even more carefully.  When MC let him know that they were ready to talk, he checked to make sure they weren’t forcing themself to recall the incident this soon for his sake.  They promised that it was fine, so he offered his hand for them to hold and even his shoulder for them to lean on as they spoke.

“Oh, MC...” Simeon murmured sadly at the end of their retelling, his hand moving over to rub their back soothingly.  “To think that something like this would happen after how much time you’ve spent here in the Devildom.  You didn’t deserve it at all.  I’m sure you already know this, but not all demons outside of our friends think about humans in the same way that the one who attacked you does.  It was purely bad luck that you bumped into someone that cruel at the wrong time.  I wish I could’ve been there to protect you...”  

He shook his head and then resumed, “Well, there’s no use dwelling on what can’t be changed.  But I’m here now, so please tell me what I can do for you.  Shall we get you into some clean clothes?  Or maybe you’d like something to eat first?  ...Oh!  Would you like to see this new app on my D.D.D.?  Levi helped me install it earlier and went over the basics, but he wasn’t able to teach me everything since a new episode of an anime was about to start.  It’s still a little confusing to me, but perhaps we could learn more about it together?  It’s supposed to add silly details to photos, so I’m sure we’ll have fun with it.”

Simeon stuck by MC’s side for as long as they wanted him to and focused on comforting them to the best of his abilities.  Once MC was doing better, he left the House of Lamentation feeling a bit more relaxed yet still fretting over what had happened to the human.  While mulling over if there was anything else he could do for them, he received a text from Solomon asking him to pick up a few items from Hocus Pocus before returning to Purgatory Hall.  Because he accepted this request, he was able to literally bump into MC’s attacker as they were browsing the store’s wares.  The demon snapped at him, and in the heat of their anger, they brought up how they “already got rammed into by a pretentious human earlier today” and now had to “find a potion to get rid of the aftereffects of the magic charm they used.”

Simeon firmly pressed his hand against the demon’s sternum to prevent them from storming past him.  “It was you who hurt MC?” he questioned with an uncharacteristically narrowed gaze.  The demon’s panicked expression confirmed his suspicions.  “I see.  In that case, listen to me carefully:  If you come anywhere near them again, I won’t hesitate to show you exactly why demons used to fear the power of angels.  Do you understand?”

The strange burning sensation coming from the angel’s hand that joined with his threat was enough to make the pale-faced demon nod repeatedly, desperate to avoid a terrible fate. Simeon removed his hand and flashed a friendly grin as he bid them a permanent farewell.  Sure enough, MC never encountered that particular demon again.

“While I’m glad that my defensive charm was of use to you,” Solomon stated, “it’s unfortunate that you still had to go through such an ordeal.  I’ve had my fair share of demons try to pick fights with me, too, specifically back when I wasn’t as skilled with my magic.  So, I can understand how you’re feeling right now.  Maybe I can create a new charm that activates automatically when its holder is in danger..."

The immortal sorcerer brainstormed the technicalities of making this type of magic charm, muttering his thoughts aloud as he searched in his collection for a potent tonic that would aid in healing MC’s injuries.  He had decided to use the spell that allows him to instantly travel to different places in order to take MC back to his room in Purgatory Hall.  It was not only one of the best places for privacy, but it also contained plenty of magical items that would help with MC’s current condition.  He had already taken care of their dried blood, tattered clothes, and small scratches, which only left the bigger wounds and bruises untreated.  Throughout this time, he had listened to his fellow human’s explanation about how they ended up this way.  He wasn’t too shocked that this sort of exchange occurred, but it deeply angered him nonetheless, even though he didn’t outwardly express it.

Solomon soon chose the best tonic he could find, giving it to MC to drink as he resumed, “In any case, I’ll make you a duplicate of that charm so that you can protect yourself if a similar situation arises.  Still, your best bet in avoiding any irritable demons would be to stick with someone you know when you go out.”  He grinned warmly at them while retrieving the empty bottle from their hands.  “I’m more than willing to join you anytime, MC, so don’t hesitate to contact me.  Whether it’s to hang out or just to watch over you, I always enjoy the time we spend together.  ...Oh, look at that!  The bruises on your arms are already starting to fade.  That tonic worked very well.  How are you feeling, though?  Any other ailments I should address?”

Just to be sure that there were no unusual side effects from the magically enhanced healing items, Solomon insisted that MC stay with him for a little while longer.  The two of them engaged in leisurely and comforting activities during that time, like reading, watching videos on DevilTube, and listening to music.  Solomon also tried to cook MC a meal—certain that they must’ve been hungry after everything that happened—but they managed to talk him out of it.  (They want to get better, not worse!)  Depending on how well MC was doing in the evening, they either went back home or spent the night at Purgatory Hall with Solomon and the others.

After escorting MC home from RAD classes the following afternoon, the sorcerer locked himself in his room to conduct a summoning spell.  He had noticed a peculiar strand of hair on MC’s shirt the previous day and—based on some of the hair-pulling struggle in their story—concluded that it belonged to their attacker.  It was a lucky find that enabled him to summon the low-ranking demon directly to his room without having to track them down.  Once the demon appeared, Solomon quickly followed up with a spell that rendered them completely immoble.

“What’s this?  Can’t move?” the witty sorcerer inquired with feigned surprise.  “I thought you wanted to show us humans ‘what demons are truly capable of?’  Well, since you’re not going anywhere, I’m going to show you what I’m capable of when you hurt someone important to me.”

It was fortunate that no one else was home to hear the demon’s mangled screams.

“What an awful demon!” Luke huffed as he helped MC clean and bandage their wounds in the bathroom.  “They had no right to treat you like that just because you bumped into them by accident!  Demons really are—!”  He paused abruptly, realizing what he was about to say.  As easy as it would be for him to label all demons as “evil,” “ruthless,” “the worst,” and so on, he knew better now that such thoughts weren’t true, especially with how kind the demon brothers, Diavolo, and Barbatos had been to him.

“I’m sorry, MC,” Luke said.  “I’m just really upset about what that demon did to you.  But I shouldn’t be focused on my feelings right now. Are you okay?  If you’re feeling up to it, would you like to try one of the cupcakes I just brought over?  I made extra so that I could share them with you and the others. That’s why I was here when you came home.  Beel isn’t around right now, so they should still be in the kitchen.”

The young angel put on a smile for MC’s sake, and it seemed to be enough to persuade them to accept his suggestion.  While they went to their bedroom to change out of their blood-stained clothes, Luke trotted off to the kitchen to fetch a cupcake for them.  During his brief time alone, he pondered over what happened to MC, and his heart ached from how hurt his best friend was and from the understanding that not all demons were as accepting of humans and angels as those closest to the two of them.  He didn’t want MC to go through such a scary, terrible event again, so shortly after he entered their bedroom, he offered to cast his angel’s blessing on them, which would protect them from any other malicious demons.  He also told them that they can rely on him anytime, even if it’s just to accompany them to a store.  

Luke then stayed with MC for the rest of the day, chatting and playing games until he fell asleep and Simeon was called to pick him up.  The next time the young angel saw all of the demon brothers together, he scolded them, demanding that they do a better job in watching over MC from now on. (The brothers outwardly brushed off his remarks, but they actually felt the same way. By this point, though, they had already learned about what happened from MC and handled the demon together through their own means.)

“Considering the results of the latest ‘RAD Exchange Program’ survey, I can’t say I’m too surprised about this,” Mephistopheles noted.  “Nevertheless, this is unacceptable.  Any civilized demon—  Hold it!  The bandage will fall off if you don’t wrap it correctly, and then it'll be harder for that cut to heal.”  He sighed as he took off his white gloves and set them on the table in the human’s bedroom, not wanting to get any of MC’s slightly-oozing blood on them.  “Hand it here.  I’ll wrap it for you this time, but watch carefully.”

When Mephisto had come over to the House of Lamentation to borrow a book from Satan, the last thing he expected to encounter in his short visit —and just before leaving, of all times!—was a battered MC.  To top it off, now he was dressing their wounds!  Though, if he was being honest with himself, he was more concerned about what transpired between the malicious demon and MC than about having to spend more time at HoL on his day off.

“As I was saying,” Mephisto went on, scooting his chair a bit closer to where MC was seated beside him while he tended to their arm, “any civilized demon would know better than to threaten Diavolo’s goals.  They may as well have put a target on their back for assaulting an exchange student, especially you out of everyone.  But without a name, that target could still easily hide in a crowd.  How would we bring them out into the open...?”

After securing the bandage and putting his gloves back on, Mephisto had an idea.  He proceeded to ask MC to describe the demon who hurt them in as much detail as they could recall.  The image of the individual that formed in his mind prompted him to take out his D.D.D. to show MC a photo of some RAD students that he used for a past newspaper article.

“That’s them on the end?” he double-checked with the human.  “You’re certain?  ...All right, then leave the rest to me.  In the meantime, focus on taking care of yourself, got it?  And if you need anything, you can call or text me.  Don’t abuse this privilege, though!  Anyway, I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Mephisto believed that noblemen like himself should never get their hands dirty, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t tear apart MC’s attacker in another way.  Once he returned home, he drafted an article about the incident, complete with the malicious demon’s name and face, and emailed it to the demon with the warning that if they didn’t want it to be published, then they would meet him in the newspaper club room before tomorrow’s morning classes.  Sure enough, the demon arrived the next day, their expression irate but their words filled with fear and desperation.  They admitted to everything that had happened with MC the previous day at Mephisto’s request, but they also tried to rationalize their actions and plead why the article shouldn’t be published.  Unbeknownst to the demon, however, Mephisto had already sent the article to Diavolo and Barbatos and even had his phone opened in the middle of a call with the two of them, allowing them to hear everything MC’s attacker had said to him.  Within minutes, the prince and butler entered the room to seize the demon and punish them for what they had done.  No one saw that student ever again, much to Mephisto’s delight.

“Hm, so that’s what happened...” Raphael muttered pensively, his gaze trained to the shirt he was sewing in MC’s room.  He had asked the human to give him their tattered clothes for him to mend, certain that he could fix it to be as good as new considering how often he used to do this for Lucifer’s younger brothers. He also insisted that he didn't mind doing so since he was free the rest of the day—he was just on his way out from a brief meeting with Lucifer when MC had run into him.  As he worked, MC spoke to him while they tended to their wounds and changed into clean clothes, not once feeling the angel’s eyes on them but assured that he was still listening to them when he was able to repeat back things they had said.

“That goes against Lord Diavolo’s rules here, though, right?” Raphael questioned.  Upon receiving confirmation, he continued, “Then, that demon broke a law.  Such an act cannot go unpunished.  When I find them, I’ll take care of them for you.”

Regardless of MC’s response, the angel was determined to seek justice.  In his mind, just as those in the Celestial Realm were obligated to follow the rules, so should those in the Devildom, no matter how feral or bound by instinct the demon may be.  Plus, he wasn’t going to let anyone get away with hurting someone close to him, especially for no good reason.  But as for the present moment, he would finish mending MC’s clothes and, if they wanted him to, stick around a little longer to help them feel better and safe.

“Make sure Lucifer or one of the others is with you when you go out,” Raphael calmly lectured before he left.  “If they’re not available, then I don’t mind if you call on me.  And try to keep a closer eye on your surroundings so that you don’t unintentionally upset someone again.  Oh, and I'll ask Solomon to make you some more of those defensive charms for similar emergencies.  ...I’ll get going now.  I hope your wounds heal quickly, MC.”

The next day, MC seemed to be doing better, so Raphael didn’t dwell on the situation as much aside from watching out for anyone who looked like their attacker.  But later, when the two of them were out in town, MC caught sight of the demon from before.  Raphael wasted no time in summoning a shower of spears that ultimately cornered MC's attacker into an alleyway.  He pulled one of the spears out of the ground and pointed it dangerously close to the demon’s throat, his gaze on them just as sharp as the weapon in his hand. If MC chose to intervene, then he’d leave with a threat that’d shake the demon down to their core and drive them to live on the other side of the realm.  Otherwise, Raphael would wordlessly cut down the demon in an instant with no remorse, making it clear why he’s known as “the hit man from the Celestial Realm.” In either case, Raphael would feel relieved in knowing that MC was safe from that particular demon, and perhaps other demons would think twice before they lay a hand on the human he protected.

“There’s plenty of demons like that one out here,” Thirteen remarked, her leg crossed over the other as she sat on MC’s bed.  She passed the human some gauze from the first aid kit so they could wrap it around their forearm.  “I guess that’s hard to believe with those seven brothers constantly fawning over you, but even they were cruel to you when you first met, right?  Well, that’s what Asmodeus told me while he was painting my nails earlier. My point is, you can’t ever let your guard down.”

After hearing MC express their understanding of her words, the reaper resumed, “Glad we're in agreement.  Now hurry and get yourself fixed up.  The sooner we head back out, the better.  ...Why?  We’re going to get revenge on that demon, of course!  I doubt they’re still subdued from that magic charm, but they should still be weak enough for us to track them down.”

While the human finished cleaning themself up, Thirteen excitedly discussed the different traps she had in order to capture the demon and give them a taste of their own medicine.  Since MC wasn’t able to properly fight back when they were attacked, Thirteen had every intention of helping them one-up the demon, viewing the skirmish more like a competition that she and MC had to win. The demon struck first, so now the two of them were going to strike back, even harder and better than the attacker would ever expect, she concluded.

Should MC express hesitation toward the idea, Thirteen would try to persuade them by saying that letting the demon get away with their actions would be the same as admitting defeat and permitting them to attack again anytime.  Also, despite knowing the true nature of demons, she couldn’t help but feel angry about what happened to MC and wanted to stop anyone who dared to threaten their life.

Whether they followed by choice or were basically dragged along, MC soon returned to the scene of the crime with Thirteen in search of the perpetrator.  It took a bit of time, but the duo eventually found the demon on the outskirts of town and pursued them into the forest.  Thirteen used a trap she named “Pretty Pitfall Number 6” to blast a deep hole in the ground for the demon to fall into.  The reaper stood over the edge of the pit, looking down smugly at the disoriented being below.

“I was expecting more of a fight,” Thirteen laughed.  “Oh well.  I guess that just makes it easier for me to test out some more traps on you.  They’re designed to help me reap the soul of a certain immortal sorcerer, you know.  I wonder how they’ll fare on you.”  She then happily tossed down a multitude of her handmade mechanisms to attack the demon as payback for what they did to MC.  

The cries of the demon echoed through the forest as Thirteen watched her traps in action.  Satisfied with their effectiveness, she put her arm around MC’s shoulders and led them back into town for a celebratory meal.  (Even if the demon survived, there was no way they’d have the courage or physical strength to retaliate again with the reaper on MC’s side.)

#1.5k celebration #follower celebration #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey solomon #obey me luke #obey me mephistopheles #obey me mephisto #obey me raphael #obey me thirteen #obey me headcanons #snippet #cw blood #cw violence #cw mention of death

[leothil]

Tumblr Fandom: A Year in Review 2023

@mistmarauder thank you so much for creating this and tagging me! 💛💛

Top Five Blorbos: 1. Eddie Diaz - 9-1-1 2. Leon Draisaitl - Hockey rpf 3. Embry Carter - Rebel Kings MC 4. Matthew Tkachuk - Hockey rpf 5. Eddie Fulton - Summer Sons

Top Five Fandoms: 1. 9-1-1 2. Hockey rpf 3. Rebel Kings MC 4. Percy Jackson 5. Summer Sons

Top Five OTPs: 1. Buddie - 9-1-1 2. Mattdrai - Hockey rpf 3. Embry and Mateo - Rebel Kings MC 4. Andrew and Eddie - Summer Sons 5. Quinn Hughes and Brady Tkachuk - Hockey rpf (listen. I can feel the brainrot brewing for these two. It's gonna get worse.)

Shoutout to Some New Friends: I feel like this year is the first time I really properly interacted with @shitouttabuck, @messyhairdiaz, @eddiebabygirldiaz and @toboldlynerd and it's been a truly wonderful time! Shoutout to @nunc-spes-spei and @zahlibeth who are always willing to yes-and spec/ideas and indulge weird theories, you're the best!

Shoutout to Some Old Friends: @rewritetheending, talking to you more this year has brought me indescribable amounts of joy, comfort, relief, every positive feeling out there! I can't emphasize enough how important you are to me! @onward--upward you are a true champ for putting up with my weird hrpf rants and excessive post sharing, I love sharing the brainrot with you! My Buck and Eddie girls @burnthatbridge, @girldadbuddie, and @thatsveryood, I treasure you SO much and hope we can share an unhinged video chat again soon (NZ meetup??)! And my absolute ride or dies, my teeny tiny friends, @buckactuallys, @capseycartwright, @clusterbuck, @hattalove, @oatflatwhite, and @thatbuddie, you're the best thing I have gained from this webbed site, I can't believe I get to talk to you every day! All hail the superior search engine etc, I love you so much!

Favorite Creation You Posted This Year: I've loved doing my fic recs from the archive-project and I've been so happy to see other people discover new old fics through it! (It's not finished, I just wanted a break over the holidays!)

Favorite Creation Posted by Someone Else This Year: I've got to shout out @butchdiaz's Eddie Diaz is the archer because I sat eating breakfast at our summer cottage one morning back in July, watching this video on repeat and struggling to keep my feelings somewhat contained because I couldn't spoil my sister by showing it to her.

People Who Brightened Your Year: Everyone I've already mentioned, naturally, but also @tripleaxeldiaz, @henswilsons, @kitkatpancakestack, @eddiediaaz, @try-set-me-on-fire, @transboybuckley, @trippedandfell for being those extra bright spots on my dash and sometimes in my DMs!

Anyone Else You’d Like to Mention: Big shoutout to all of my mutuals and followers, you are all fantastic and I'm really happy to be here hanging out with you! Extra thanks to @evcndiaz @nymika-arts @glorious-spoon @ellelans @spruceoutoffive @captain-hen @fcntasmas @andrewblur @spaceprincessem @mellaithwen and @mistmarauder for being absolutely wonderful presences on my dash, mwah!

Five of Your Favorite Authors This Year: In the interest of not trying to double-tag people (and get to shout out even more peeps):

@bropunzeling I've reread all of your mattdrai fics more than is probably healthy, and you are this 🤏 close to making me acquire new blorbos by reading the rest of your bibliography.

@msmargaretmurry I'll have you know I reread Head Above Water three times this year and it made me more unhinged every time. That's not counting the times I went back to it just to reread a favourite scene or two.

@hopetorun your mattdrai winner's room fic rearranged something in my brain and I'll never be the same again.

@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels I don't know how you do what you do but I'm in awe, every single time!

@littlespoonevan I've gone back to reread several of your fics this year, and there's something so uniquely sweet and comforting about them!

Five of Your Favorite Artists/Gifmakers/Podficcers/Etc. This Year: 1. @bilosan your gifs are so gorgeous and I always love seeing what kind of sets you put together! 2. @like-the-rest-of-la if I could eat your art, I would!! It's so stupidly beautiful! 3. @skyhighrollins911 your edits are beyond gorgeous, and the cast sharing them as well is so deserved! 4. @barbiediaz your gifsets bring me endless joy and make me stop to look even when it's a fandom I'm not personally in! 5. @baneme-art I am so in love with the way you draw Buck and Eddie, I could look at them for hours!

Three Things You’re Looking Forward to in 2024: 1. S7 of 9-1-1. Of course. 2. Continuing to learn more and get better at west coast swing! (Please let me get into the spring course I will be crushed if I can't have it regularly for half a year 😢) 3. Book seven of Rebel Kings MC (Garrett Leigh you KNOW what you did!)

Tagging: Anyone and everyone tagged in this post already!

#tag games #nobody ask me how long this took to write ha ha i simultaneously had a lot to say and no words at all #2023 wrapped

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nineteen [fin]

🐴Chapter summary: Your sister and Jungkook arrives home from their honeymoon with exciting news. You and Jimin just can’t wait to marry each other, and when you finally get to, it’s like your soul has come home.

🐴Chapter title: Home

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: can you hear the wedding bells???? 💒 there’s fluff, so much kissing, so much love, explicit smut in the form of unprotected sex (slight impreg kink), oral (female and male), hair pulling, use of a degrading name (he calls her nasty a few times, but that’s it), dirty/sweet talk, praise kink, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, biting, exhibitionism (it’s not MC and Jimin this time, lol), there’s also a pregnancy. The smut is just nasty and dirty, but also very sweet and intimate (a lot of bodily fluids 🫣).

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 18.2k (I’m so sorry, I got very emotional 😭)

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “My Heart’s Home (Drover’s Run)” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: wow. Okay 😭 I feel very emotional with this chapter. It’s a chapter that I have looked forward to writing for many months, since I outlined the whole story, and it’s sweet, it’s cute, it’s romantic!!!! Don’t come @ me, this is a romance story at its core 😭 I just feel sad that it’s ending now, because I truly love these characters so much and it has been so much fun putting them (and you, sorry) through hell and back. These characters will always have a special place in my heart, it’s sorta like with my characters from ‘Friendcation’ 🥹 Anyway, I’m rambling again— I just wanted to take some time to thank each and every one of you, both here on tumblr and on AO3. So many people, regulars even, have commented and engaged with me and this story and fucking shit, it makes me cry with happiness that some people actually like or even love this story 😭 I honestly never thought anyone would, when I outlined it, so it makes me so happy that someone out there loves this like I do. Thank you. Truly. I don’t have enough words to express how grateful I am to you 💖 This is actually the last ‘official’ chapter, so this is actually the end of the story. I’m going to write an extra chapter for you guys— chapter 20, but it will be an epilogue/Q&A thing where you can read what happens with the characters in like a year after the story has ended. There will also be answers to some of the questions you’ve sent in over time, so please look forward to it when it comes out some time soon 🫰

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜

** this is the last call to send in asks that will feature in the epilogue. You’re still very welcome to send questions after, I’ll still answer future asks and comments! Thank you!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next (epilogue) →

“The eyes of a child See a long long way See the future see the past They see everything first and last I was that child Who rode these hills In my dreams I see the stars In my dreams I always will Ride these hills See in the morning I’ll hear the rain on the shed But other stars and other sunsets will hang above my head There will be different places different people But I’ll still be the same” - ‘My Heart’s Home (Drover’s Run)’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Jungkook’s black truck remains absent from the yard for two long weeks, and anticipation builds within you for his return alongside your sister from their honeymoon. The longing to reunite with them intensifies with each passing day, driven by a dual desire: one, the longing for their presence, and the other, an eagerness to share your plans to move in with Jimin, a significant step forward in your life that you’re bursting to reveal to them both.

As you gaze out of the living room windows, the glow of the television casting flickering shadows across the room, the familiar roar of an engine reaches your ears, a sound that ignites a spark of excitement within you. With a surge of anticipation, you leap up from the couch, the rhythm of your heartbeat quickening with a mixture of affection and giddiness at the thought of their imminent arrival.

“Jimin, they’re finally back!” Your voice rings out, echoing through the house as you dash through its corridors and burst out into the yard, your excitement palpable in every step. Behind you, Jimin trails closely, his presence adding to the anticipation as he follows from the kitchen, eager to join in the long-awaited reunion.

With an almost reckless abandon, you swing the door open, the anticipation too overwhelming to contain. You and Jimin rush outside, your steps quickening with each heartbeat, until your eyes land on the driveway, where, as expected, the familiar silhouette of the black truck awaits, a beacon of their return and the promise of reconnection.

You’re overcome with a childlike excitement, your heart racing with anticipation akin to a kid on Christmas morning, as you eagerly watch the truck draw nearer, each moment filled with the promise of joy and reunion. Your eyes lock onto the familiar sight of it parking next to Jimin’s blue truck.

With bated breath and a heart brimming with anticipation, you eagerly observe as the truck’s engine fades into silence, and the doors swing open, revealing the figures you’ve been yearning to see: your sister and Jungkook.

Every second is precious as you dash towards your sister, your steps propelled by a surge of longing and affection. You collide with her in a heartfelt embrace, the warmth of reunion enveloping you both as you murmur, “I missed you,” the words laden with the weight of your longing and love.

“Hi,” your sister’s voice emerges slightly strained by the force of your hug, yet filled with the warmth of genuine affection. As you envelop her in your embrace, you draw her closer, reveling in the familiarity of her natural scent, a comforting reminder of the bond that binds you together.

Jungkook stands beside her, his face radiating joy as he juggles two bags, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. After exchanging warm greetings with your sister, you turn your attention to him, enveloping him in a tight embrace, the warmth of your reunion filling the air with a palpable sense of belonging.

Jimin joins you, stepping up beside you with a warm smile as he extends his greetings to your sister and his brother, his smile genuine and welcoming, mirroring the happiness that fills the air.

“Did you have an amazing honeymoon?” You inquire, granting them a moment of privacy as you observe their radiant faces. The subtle sun-kissed glow on their skin sparks curiosity within you, prompting thoughts of the exotic destinations they might have explored during their time away.

“It was so wonderful,” your sister shares, her smile radiant as she recalls their time away. Her eyes sparkle with the memories of relaxation and adventure.

Jungkook releases one of the bags and sweeps a hand through his tousled black hair, a contented smile gracing his lips. “It truly was,” he affirms, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia as he reminisces about the cherished moments shared with your sister.

“Where did you go?” Your curiosity brims over, unable to contain your eagerness any longer as you hang on the edge of anticipation, craving to unravel the mystery of their honeymoon destination.

“We traveled to a tropical island,” your sister reveals, her voice laced with a soft smile that speaks volumes of the cherished moments they shared. In the glint of her eyes, you catch a glimpse of the love and sweet memories woven into every moment of their adventure.

“That sounds so lovely. You can tell us more about it inside, Jimin has made breakfast,” you exclaim with a warm smile, nodding towards the house where Jimin has prepared a meal. With a shared sense of excitement, you and Jimin assist them with their luggage, eagerly ushering them back into the cozy embrace of home.

Inside, you carefully set their bags down in the hallway before kicking off your boots, the anticipation of the delicious breakfast Jimin prepared propelling you into the kitchen. Together, you assist each other in carrying the aromatic dishes to the dining room, where you swiftly set the table and pull out chairs, eager to indulge in the meal. As you all settle in and begin to eat, a serene silence envelops the room, broken only by the rhythmic clinking of utensils against plates.

As you steal glances at Jimin, your heart swells with affection, his presence a constant source of comfort and joy. Turning your gaze to your sister and Jungkook, their happiness radiates, igniting a flutter in your chest as you bask in the warmth of their contentment, a tangible reminder of the bonds that bind you all together.

“I’m dying to know, what were your favorite island adventures? Just spare me the details about how much you fucked,” you jest with a chuckle, pushing your empty plate aside. As you watch them, grinning like lovesick fools, you can’t help but feel a pang of envy mixed with genuine happiness for their shared bliss.

“We mainly just relaxed on the beach, and Kookie ate a lot of food,” your sister laughs, her joy infectious as her smile reaches all the way to her eyes, reflecting the carefree happiness of their tropical escape.

“We also went swimming in crystal clear water and hiked in nature, but that’s about it,”Jungkook chimes in with a grin, punctuating his words with a refreshing sip of water. His smile holds a trace of the exhilaration experienced amidst nature’s embrace.

“How have you guys been? Was it easy to manage both ranches?” Your sister’s voice brims with genuine curiosity and delight, her eagerness to catch up evident in the lilt of her tone.

“Yeah, it was manageable, especially with all the support we had,” you affirm with a nod. “But there’s something important we’ve been meaning to discuss with you,” you continue, your gaze drifting to the table below as a hint of nervousness tingles through your veins. It's a strange sensation, considering your eagerness to share the news and hear their thoughts on the matter, as well as their own plans for the future.

Your sister’s initial surprise doesn’t go unnoticed, but before she can voice her thoughts, you interject gently, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad.” With a reassuring smile, you gather your courage to continue, “Jimin and I have been talking, and we’ve decided that we want to take the next step in our relationship. We want to move in together, right here, at Bell Ranch.”

Your heart races in anticipation as you lock eyes with both Jungkook and your sister, the weight of your announcement settling heavily in the air. Sensing your nerves, Jimin’s hand seeks yours, offering a reassuring squeeze that anchors you in the moment, a silent reminder of his unwavering support and love.

Both Jungkook and your sister share a knowing chuckle, their eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and playful mischief, as if they’ve already anticipated this moment and are delighted by your decision.

“That sounds amazing. You should absolutely go for it,” Jungkook beams, his voice laced with genuine happiness. “In fact, we’ve been meaning to discuss something similar with you,” he reveals, his words tinged with excitement.

You raise a quizzical eyebrow, your curiosity piqued by Jungkook’s cryptic statement.

Your sister leans closer to Jungkook, their connection palpable as she intertwines her fingers with his over the table, a radiant smile gracing her lips. “We’ve been thinking about it for a while,” she reveals, her voice filled with excitement. “We want to take the next step too, move in together. At Bora Ranch.”

Laughter erupts around the table, filling the room with infectious joy until tears well up in your eyes—tears of pure, unadulterated happiness that overflow with the overwhelming love that you feel in your chest.

“That’s absolutely perfect,” Jimin’s smile widens, his touch gentle as he runs his fingers tenderly over your arm, his eyes alight with a warmth that mirrors the sentiment shared among all of you.

“We just need to move our stuff then,” you say with a smile, turning to Jimin and pressing a kiss to his lips. The news of your sister and Jungkook’s plans fills you with a sense of relief, especially since Bora Ranch no longer feels like home, not after the fire. In that moment, as you embrace Jimin, you realize where exactly home is for you, and honestly you’ve known for a while now, and it’s not a place—it’s wherever he is.

“Absolutely, let’s make it happen in the next couple of days,” your sister exclaims with a radiant smile, enveloping Jungkook in a tight embrace as if to solidify their excitement and determination.

“Let’s make it a team effort,” you suggest with a warm smile, leaning your head against Jimin’s shoulder for support. The idea of everyone pitching in to help each other move fills you with a sense of love and familiarity.

A brief, serene moment hangs in the air as you all bask in the warmth of love and excitement. However, as your sister and Jungkook exchange hesitant glances, a sense of anticipation hangs in the air, as though they are on the brink of revealing something significant yet are unsure of how to broach the topic.

“What’s on your minds?” You inquire, a note of concern creeping into your voice as their prolonged silence becomes increasingly conspicuous. Their lingering gazes, fraught with unspoken tension, only serve to heighten your curiosity, compelling you to seek answers to the unspoken questions hanging in the air.

Your sister straightens her posture, a flicker of nervousness dancing in her eyes, though they still sparkle with underlying happiness. Meanwhile, Jungkook’s smile broadens, his eyes shimmering with affection as he tenderly squeezes your sister’s hand.

Your sister draws in a deep, steadying breath, her smile revealing a mix of nervousness and unbridled joy. “Here’s the thing,” she begins, her voice quivering with anticipation. “You’re about to become an uncle and aunt,” she announces, the words tinged with the excitement of impending parenthood, setting the room abuzz with anticipation and elation.

Your eyes widen in realization, the weight of your sister’s words sinking in as your heart swells with overwhelming love. Emotions surge within you, threatening to spill over as tears well up once more, their intensity hitting you with a heavy force. Glancing at Jimin, you find his expression mirroring your own astonishment, his happiness palpable as he shares in the joyous revelation.

Your voice trembles, tears pooling in your eyes as you lean forward over the table, barely able to contain the flood of emotions welling up inside you. “Are you... pregnant?” You manage to whisper, the words laden with anticipation and a surge of overwhelming emotion.

Jungkook’s grin stretches so fucking wide, you fear his face might split in two, his infectious joy radiating throughout the room. Your sister nods, her smile beaming with happiness, though her eyes glisten with tears yet to fall.

“I am,” she confirms, her voice ringing with both certainty and a hint of wonder, as if she’s still coming to terms with the beautiful reality of impending motherhood.

Jimin envelops you in a tight embrace, his arms a comforting sanctuary as tears cascade down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the overwhelming rush of emotions coursing through you. The damp trails mark your shirt, but in this moment, you couldn’t care less about the stains. Amidst the tears, you’re consumed by an indescribable sense of happiness and boundless love, knowing that you’re surrounded by those who cherish you unconditionally.

“No, why are you crying?” Your sister asks, her voice catching with emotion, tears mirroring your own as they trickle down her cheeks. 

“I’m just overwhelmed with happiness for you guys, congratulations,” you beam, feeling a swell of joyous emotions engulfing your chest. “These tears are pure happiness,” you add, your smile radiant and genuine, as you revel in the shared joy and anticipation of the precious new life joining your family.

Jimin’s embrace tightens, his affection palpable as he presses a tender kiss to your cheek, his silent gesture speaking volumes of his love and support in this moment of shared happiness.

“We found out during our honeymoon, and we just couldn’t wait to tell you,” Jungkook’s voice brims with pride and happiness, his words resonating with the excitement of this newfound journey into parenthood.

“I couldn’t be happier for you both, congratulations,” Jimin’s voice quivers with emotion, mirroring the heartfelt sentiment that permeates the room. In this moment, it’s evident that the overwhelming flood of happiness is shared by all, binding you together in celebration of this joyous news.

You nestle closer into Jimin’s embrace, thoughts swirling in your mind like autumn leaves in the wind. You’re aware of his desire for children, a notion that’s taken root in your own heart, especially after everything with Deiji. The idea of parenthood with Jimin fills you with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. You want to witness him step into the role of fatherhood, yet you grapple with your own insecurities about becoming a mother.

Despite these apprehensions, you sense a growing readiness within yourself, a quiet confidence that whispers of your eventual readiness for motherhood when the time is right. And now, with the news of your impending aunt-hood, you’re struck with the realization that this journey alongside your sister’s impending motherhood might just serve as the perfect trial run.

Though the child won’t be your own, you’re eager to observe, to support, and to glean insight into the complexities of parenthood. It’s a chance to test the waters, to discover if children truly fit into the tapestry of your future dreams and aspirations.

“I’m going to be an aunt,” you announce proudly, your voice catching with tears and overwhelming emotion. Jimin enfolds you in his embrace again, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the whirlwind of feelings. With each reassuring squeeze, he reminds you of the unwavering support and love he always provides, grounding you in his steadfast embrace.

“This thing’s a beast!” Yoongi grunts, his voice strained with exertion as he joins Jungkook in lifting the hefty dresser from his room. 

As they maneuver the bulky dresser down the stairs, Jungkook’s laughter fills the air, a lighthearted counterpoint to the laborious task at hand. While the rest of you have pitched in by packing his belongings, your sister watches eagerly, her desire to help palpable. However, Jungkook remains adamant, refusing to let her lift even a finger, his protectiveness extending to the safety of their unborn child. You can’t suppress a chuckle at the sight, finding it both endearing and slightly excessive given her early stage of pregnancy. You wonder if Jungkook will extend his cautious approach to other activities, maybe even her beloved horseback riding.

In no time, you’ve managed to load Jungkook’s belongings onto the trucks and horse trailer. As you survey the now empty room, save for his bed, a pang of nostalgia washes over you. The stripped-down space feels oddly unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the warmth and personality it once exuded.

With the trailer securely locked, you step outside, relishing the fresh air after the exertion of heavy lifting. Taehyung’s smile beams at the group.

“Now that Jungkook is moving out, can I get his room?” Taehyung’s inquiry is met with a wide grin, his eyes alight with anticipation as he eagerly awaits your and Jimin’s response.

“Do you really want to sleep in that bed? You know they’ve had sex on it a lot,” Jimin jests, a playful grin dancing across his lips. Jungkook simply shrugs, his own smile acknowledging the undeniable truth in his brother’s jest.

Taehyung groans audibly, his frustration evident in the tone as if he’s contemplating a drastic measure like clawing his own eyes out. “I know,” he concedes, his voice laced with determination. “But trust me, once I’m through with it, that bed will be practically brand new. Fresh sheets and a thorough deep clean— it’ll be like sleeping on a cloud.”

A chuckle escapes you involuntarily. Taehyung’s innocence is endearing, prompting a gentle giggle to bubble forth. “I don’t mind you living with us,” you admit with a warm smile. “But the final say rests with Jimin,” you tease lightly, casting a playful glance in Jimin’s direction.

Turning to Jimin with an eager glint in his eyes, Taehyung poses the question, “Can I live with you guys?”

Jimin’s grin widens, radiating warmth as he responds, “Sure. As long as you don’t mind the occasional noises.”

Taehyung emits another groan, his tone tinged with humor. “As long as I’m not witnessing any reenactments of last time, I’m all in,” he quips with a playful eye roll.

Jungkook halts abruptly, his hand hovering over the truck door handle, his curiosity piqued. He strides over to you with purpose, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue. “What’s this about reenactments?” He inquires, his gaze flickering between you and Taehyung.

Your sister sidles up beside you, her curiosity evident, and you can’t help but offer a subtle eye roll, already anticipating the impending discussion with a mix of reluctance and amusement.

“Yoongi and I walked in on them doing it on the couch,” Taehyung utters with a deep groan, his hand instinctively covering his eyes as if attempting to shield himself from the memory once more.

Jungkook erupts into laughter, giving Taehyung an affectionate pat on the back. “I’m sorry, but let’s face it, we’re all a bit... horny around here. Can’t say you should be too surprised to catch an eyeful or an earful now and then,” he quips with a grin, breaking the tension with humor.

Taehyung lets out an exasperated huff. “I still believe intimacy should stay behind closed doors. You guys are some serious exhibitionists,” he retorts, shaking his head in disbelief.

Laughter erupts among the group, but amidst the mirth, Taehyung’s observation strikes a chord. While you don’t relish being watched, there’s a truth to his words. You and Jimin have a knack for choosing semi-public settings, a fact you’re now forced to confront.

As you pile into the trucks and embark on the journey to Bora Ranch with Jungkook’s furniture in tow, the anticipation of a new chapter fills the air. Upon arrival, a collaborative effort ensues as everyone pitches in to unload his belongings. Once completed, it’s your turn to pack your own possessions for the move.

As you gather your belongings, you find yourself with mostly pre-packed bags and suitcases filled with clothes and the few remnants of decor salvaged after the fire. Among them are the cherished photos Jimin gave you, snapshots of your childhood that hold precious memories. Opting to leave your bed behind, you realize it’s a symbolic gesture as you prepare to share Jimin’s bed permanently, marking a new chapter in your lives together.

“She doesn’t have as much stuff as Jungkook,” Taehyung remarks, gesturing toward your modest collection of bags. It’s true; compared to Jungkook’s substantial furniture, your belongings seem minimal. But within those bags lie not just clothes and essentials, but memories and hopes for the future, making them weightier than they appear.

“I’ve been thinking,” you start, sweeping your hand around the room, still filled with furniture you got after the fire, “and I don’t feel any connection to this new stuff. It’s like it’s just here, not really a part of me. I’d rather start fresh with Jimin, with pieces that mean something to both of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says, his tone tinged with understanding, though you’re not sure why he’s apologizing. Maybe it’s just the acknowledgment that things have shifted, that change is inevitable. Like the seasons, feelings change with time, and you’ve come to accept it. This ranch will always hold a special place in your heart, it’s the first place you called home, but you’re eager to forge a new path with Jimin— to create a home that’s uniquely yours.

“It’s okay. I’m excited about living with Jimin, and now having you as a roommate,” you say warmly, enveloping Taehyung in a hug, a genuine smile playing on your lips.

“I gotta ask you something. You’re not a screamer, are you?” He asks, a hint of apprehension in his voice, his expression betraying his worry.

You chuckle, teasingly responding, “Well, I guess you’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

He groans dramatically, adding, “I might reconsider moving in and just staying in the guest cottage.”

Jimin’s laughter fills the room as he playfully adds, “That’s up to you.”

As you descend with your bags, Hoseok and Yoongi join in, shouldering your easel and paintings, a colorful procession of creativity weaving its way to the waiting trucks.

“Do you paint?” Taehyung asks, his curiosity piqued as he catches sight of your easel being carefully loaded into the truck. 

“Yeah, it’s my work,” you respond with a proud laugh, a touch of confidence in your voice. The smile on your face reflects the satisfaction and joy you find in your art.

“Wow, that’s amazing! I had no idea,” Taehyung exclaims, his enthusiasm clear as he grins at you. “We’ll definitely have to chat more about it—I’d love some tips! Painting’s a passion of mine too.” His excitement is infectious, prompting you to smile back and nod in agreement, already imagining the creative conversations and shared insights to come.

“I’m going to fetch Mikrokosmos,” you announce with a smile, making your way to the stables to retrieve your horse. As you greet her in her stall, she nuzzles you affectionately, sensing the journey ahead. You lead her out with her halter, guiding her down the yard toward the waiting horse trailer. Mikrokosmos steps in without hesitation, a testament to her trust in you. You secure her safely with a quick safety knot on her halter, ensuring she’s comfortable for the ride.

Once again, you all pile into the trucks and make your way back to Bell Ranch with your belongings in tow. The journey is filled with a sense of camaraderie, and upon arrival, your friends and family pitch in to help you unload. 

You carefully guide Mikrokosmos out of the trailer and lead her into one of the paddocks next to the stables. Once inside, you release her, watching as she eagerly trots away, basking in the freedom of the open space. 

As you take in the serene scene, you catch sight of Yoongi and Hoseok making their way inside to grab some cold beers. As the work wraps up, the sky is painted with hues of twilight, and the sun dips below the horizon.

Jimin, ever the gracious host, fires up the grill, the sizzle of the barbecue adding to the evening’s ambiance. The inviting aroma of grilling food wafts through the air, promising a satisfying meal to cap off the day. The scene feels like the perfect conclusion to a day of teamwork and togetherness, as you all prepare to share a delicious dinner under the night sky.

Jungkook joins his brother at the grill, their teamwork evident as they skillfully tend to the sizzling meat and vibrant grilled vegetables. When you return to the porch, the savory aroma envelops you, the smoky scent of the food teasing your senses and making your mouth water in anticipation of the feast to come.

Jimin sets a relaxing ambiance by playing soft music on the speakers, the melodic tunes complementing the twinkling stars overhead. This serene setting envelops you in a sense of comfort, surrounded by love and the warmth of friendship and family. As Jimin serves everyone food, you settle in to eat, savoring the delicious meal while sipping on a cold beer and refreshing water. 

Yoongi breaks the serene silence with a knowing smile and a playful glint in his eyes, asking, “So, how’s married life treating you?”

Jungkook chuckles, a playful tone in his voice. “It’s pretty much like ‘regular’ life,” he remarks, using air quotes and a lighthearted grin to convey the experience of married life.

“But we love it,” your sister adds, her voice brimming with happiness and love, the warmth of her sentiment echoing in the glow of her smile.

A smile tugs at your lips as you imagine the day you’ll marry Jimin, the thought filling you with a rush of anticipation and warmth. You turn your head towards him and lean into his embrace, finding comfort in his steady presence. As you rest your head against his strong shoulder, you share a tender smile with him, a silent promise of the beautiful future you both envision together.

Resting your head on Jimin’s shoulder, you watch as your friends and family chat about everything under the sun. Occasionally, you join in, but you mostly listen, soaking up the joy and familiarity that fills the air. The comforting blend of Jimin’s musky scent surrounds you like a warm embrace, filling you with love and serenity. The gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against your body harmonizes with your own, the two of you perfectly in sync, a quiet yet powerful reminder of your deep love.

For a moment, you close your eyes and let yourself truly savor this idyllic scene with your friends and family, the sounds of laughter and conversation swirling around you. As you bask in the warmth of this perfect moment, a profound realization washes over you: you’ve been granted everything you once dreamed of. The rift with your sister has healed, something you once thought impossible. You’ve rekindled your relationship with your childhood friend and crush, and soon you will marry him. The sheer serendipity of it all feels almost surreal as you reflect on how life has brought you full circle.

In the two years since your return, your journey has been marked by a whirlwind of experiences—mistakes, challenges, and triumphs. Each one has played a vital role in molding you into the person you’ve become. These moments of growth have paved the way for your present strength and resilience.

The infectious laughter of those around you envelops your ears, amplifying the love and warmth that fills the air. This moment holds a unique magic, one that you can’t quite put your finger on but know instinctively is special. It’s your first official day living with your fiancé, and as each day passes, you draw closer to the dream of calling him your husband. The anticipation of the future mingles with the beauty of the present, creating a moment you’ll cherish forever.

You eagerly anticipate the day you’ll exchange vows and begin your life as a married couple. The thought of your wedding day fills you with joy and excitement, knowing that it will mark the start of a beautiful, lifelong journey together.

Jimin guides the truck to a stop in front of the jewelry store, silencing the engine with a twist of the key. The building’s polished windows reflect the bright sunlight, hinting at the treasures inside as the two of you prepare for a special moment in your lives.

“Is this where you got my engagement ring?” you ask Jimin, glancing at the golden band with its stunning purple gemstone on your finger. You lift your gaze to him, your heart racing with anticipation as you smile, cherishing the beautiful memory of how he proposed to you in the muddy rain.

“Yes, I did,” he confirms with a soft smile. “And I have a feeling we’ll find the perfect wedding bands here too.” Leaning across the center console, he gently cups your face and pulls you in for a deep, sweet kiss that fills you with warmth, his affection radiating through every touch.

You savor the touch of his soft lips on yours, the way they fit perfectly against yours, as if you were made for each other. 

“Come, love,” he murmurs, pulling back with a lingering smile. He opens the door and steps out, waiting for you as you follow suit.

Outside, Jimin takes your hand in his, the warmth of his touch sending a rush of affection through you. Together, you walk toward the store’s entrance, feeling a sense of anticipation. Jimin opens the door for you, the soft chime of the bell welcoming you into the world of sparkling jewels and possibilities.

Your eyes are met with an array of displays, each one showcasing exquisite jewelry in various metals and vibrant gemstones. The dazzling assortment leaves you momentarily unsure where to focus your attention. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer variety, you turn to Jimin, trusting his experience with the store to guide you through the selection process.

A woman elegantly dressed in a black pencil skirt and crisp white blouse approaches you with a welcoming smile. “Hi, how can I help you?” She asks, her gaze briefly resting on your intertwined hands. As she meets both of your eyes, her expression lights up with recognition. “You’ve returned!” She exclaims, her gaze lingering on Jimin's face as a hint of familiarity crosses her features.

You offer a hesitant smile, the sense of familiarity between the woman and Jimin making you feel slightly nervous. Jimin, however, greets her with a friendly smile and a nod, acknowledging the recognition.

The woman glances at you with a knowing smile. “I take it she said yes, and she loves the ring?” she asks, her gaze settling on you as she sees the engagement ring on your finger.

You smile and nod, acknowledging the woman’s question. The conversation feels a bit strange, being discussed as if you weren’t present. Despite this, you try to remain polite and gracious, eager to continue with the task at hand and find the perfect wedding bands.

With a gentle smile, she says, “Congratulations! Are you here to find the perfect wedding bands today?”

Both you and Jimin reply in unison, “Yeah!” 

Your simultaneous response triggers a burst of laughter, easing the slight nervousness you felt as it dissipates into the air. 

The woman guides you to a display filled with a stunning array of rings, predominantly wedding bands in various styles and materials. “These are our selections, and there are more on this display right here,” she explains, pointing to a neighboring case. “Take your time to browse and let me know if you see something you like,” she adds with a warm smile before stepping back to give you some privacy.

You both nod in acknowledgment, turning your attention to the two displays she indicated. The sheer variety of rings is a bit overwhelming, leaving you unsure of what you want—or what Jimin might like. Seeking his opinion, you turn to him and ask, “What do you like?”

Jimin offers you a warm smile as he surveys the selection. “I think something classic,” he muses, his gaze skimming over the array of rings. “Nothing too flashy, just something timeless that suits us both.”

You nod in agreement. “I think that’s the way to go—something classic and timeless.”

“Yes, I like that idea,” he agrees. Together, you browse the display of rings, taking in the classic gold bands, sleek silver options, and even some adorned with delicate stones. The variety offers a range of choices, each with its own unique appeal.

Your eyes catch on something that stands out—it’s not a traditional classic band, but there’s an intriguing charm to it. You point it out, intrigued. “What about this one?” You ask, indicating a wedding band with a unique design. The band blends classic and modern styles, featuring intertwined silver and gold in an elegant twist, creating a captivating visual effect.

“I know it’s not the traditional style, but there’s something so beautiful about it,” you say, your voice thick with love and affection as you admire the ring’s unique design.

“It’s beautiful—almost like a blend of classic and modern,” he says with a smile, squeezing your hand gently. “I really like it.”

“Do you think this is the one?” He asks, his eyes shining with anticipation. You nod enthusiastically, your smile beaming back at him.

“Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

You signal to the store lady, who promptly approaches and carefully removes the ring from the display. As she hands it to you, you turn it over in your hands, examining it closely. The smoothness of the metal and the intricate twist of silver and gold seem to encapsulate the unique blend of your relationship. This ring feels like a tangible symbol of the fusion of your love for each other, and its perfect balance fills you with certainty.

Jimin asks the store attendant with a gentle smile, “Would it be possible to have them engraved?”

She nods enthusiastically, a joyful smile lighting up her face. “Absolutely, what would you like engraved on them?” She asks, her excitement mirroring yours as you prepare to add a personal touch to your chosen rings.

“Our names and the date we first met as kids,” Jimin explains, writing down the details on a piece of paper—your names, the meaningful date, and your ring sizes—and handing it to the store lady. 

The store attendant’s face lights up with a bright smile, her happiness evident as she absorbs the details. “That’s incredibly sweet,” she remarks, her voice filled with warmth. “Were you childhood friends?” Her eyes glisten with emotion, touched by the story of your enduring bond.

“Yes,” you both respond in unison, leaning into each other with smiles that reflect your history and deep affection.

“I love it,” she says, her voice brimming with warmth. “I’ll have the rings ready for you in a couple of weeks. I can ship them to you by mail if that’s alright?” She asks, her tone filled with genuine care for your special request.

“That’s perfect,” Jimin agrees with a nod and a warm smile. He completes the payment for the rings, and the two of you make your way back to his truck, holding hands and looking forward to the future together.

As he gazes at you with such intensity, you can feel the depth of his love, as though you are his entire world. It’s a moment that takes your breath away and leaves you with a profound sense of gratitude. The anticipation of marrying him swells within you, making your heart race with excitement for the future you will build together.

The door swings open abruptly, and Jungkook strides into the living room, momentarily disrupting your cozy evening with Jimin. You’re sprawled on the couch, sharing a relaxed moment while watching your favorite dating reality show, which the two of you often enjoy critiquing with playful banter.

You hear Jungkook’s groan and immediately shift your attention to him, taking in his furrowed brows and anguished expression. Concern washes over you as you watch him take a defeated seat next to Jimin, his body language revealing that something is weighing heavily on him. The lighthearted mood in the room shifts, and you brace yourself for what's coming next.

“What’s going on, Kook?” You ask, your voice laced with curiosity and a touch of apprehension. Jungkook’s defeated demeanor has you on edge, and you hope whatever is troubling him isn’t as serious as it seems.

Jungkook groans once more, sinking deeper into the couch with a look of exasperation. “It’s your sister,” he mutters, his tone heavy with frustration or concern.

At the mention of your sister, you flinch, an instant jolt of concern propelling you to move closer to Jungkook. Practically crawling over your fiancé to get a clearer view, you urgently ask, “Is everything alright? Did something happen?” The worry in your voice is undeniable as you brace yourself for his response.

Jimin lets out a grunt as you inadvertently put your hands and most of your weight on his thighs. He shifts beneath you, making room for you to get a better view of Jungkook while you’re practically sitting on him. Despite the sudden pressure, Jimin’s presence provides you with the stability and support you need as you focus on Jungkook with concern etched across your face.

Jungkook shakes his head, his expression a mix of frustration and amusement. “No, it’s nothing serious—just the pregnancy.”

Frustrated by Jungkook’s vague response, you reach out and grab his shirt, pulling him closer with a determined glint in your eyes. Your face inches away from his, you hiss, “If you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’ll make it so this will be the only child you ever have.”

Both Jimin and Jungkook recoil slightly at your intense threat, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Jungkook exhales a huff, his expression a mix of surprise and reluctant amusement. “Wow, that’s quite the threat,” he remarks, attempting to diffuse the tension. “I was going to tell you, just calm down.”

You roll your eyes in exasperation, releasing your grip on Jungkook’s shirt. As you settle back into your spot beside Jimin, you relax against him, resuming the comfortable lounging position you had been in before the interruption. 

The moment of tension dissipates, but your curiosity about the situation remains.

“Talk,” you demand, the edge in your voice leaving no room for misinterpretation. The seriousness in your tone serves as a clear warning that Jungkook should tread carefully to avoid provoking your anger.

“Well, Jessi’s been dealing with nonstop nausea, and her mood swings are off the charts,” Jungkook begins with a frustrated groan. “One minute she’s furious, the next she’s in tears, and then suddenly she’s super emotional and wants to be intimate all the time. It’s a rollercoaster, and I’m struggling to keep up.”

You and Jimin both burst into laughter, relieved by Jungkook’s predicament and thankful that there was nothing seriously wrong. The shared humor lightens the mood, easing your earlier tension and allowing you to relax back into the couch, reassured by the knowledge that Jungkook’s concerns were more about the trials and tribulations of parenthood than any serious issue.

“She’s pregnant, Kook. Those things happen to some pregnant women,” you say with a shrug, your tone gentle as you offer some reassurance to Jungkook. Leaning into Jimin’s comforting touch, you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, finding solace in his embrace as you reflect on the challenges your sister is navigating.

“Maybe, but I’ve never seen her like this before,” Jungkook admits, a mix of concern and frustration coloring his voice. “She’s so emotional, and she seems so fragile when she’s usually so tough,” he adds with a sigh, grappling with the unexpected transformation of your sister.

“Just hang in there—only seven more months to go,” Jimin reassures Jungkook with a gentle pat on his back. 

“You and Jessi will make it through this together.” 

“So, is this your escape from her wrath?” You ask with a chuckle, a playful smile on your lips. Your teasing tone lightens the mood a bit.

Jungkook buries his face in his hands and lets out a groan. “Yeah,” he admits, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and resignation. 

“She was crying because the dishwasher wouldn’t start,” Jungkook begins, and you can feel a flicker of anger at the thought that he might have left your sister in distress. But then he continues, “And when I tried to fix it, she got so mad at me and told me to leave.”

Jungkook appears slightly emotionally drained, and you can understand why. Your sister has always been a strong-willed, independent person with a quick temper—traits that pregnancy may have intensified. You can’t help but feel relief that you don’t live with her anymore, though you sympathize with Jungkook’s predicament.

“I’m sorry,” you say, trying to balance humor with understanding. “But I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean for you to actually leave the property.” You let out a soft, empathetic laugh, your voice tinged with melancholy. “Why not head back and give her a hug? It might be just what she needs right now.”

Jungkook nods in agreement and rises from the couch. “You’re probably right,” he concedes with a resigned sigh. “I’ll head back and apologize.” 

“Catch you later, Kook,” you and Jimin chime in unison, exchanging a playful glance. You gaze up at Jimin’s face as you rest against his shoulder, tracing the familiar patterns of his cute moles with your eyes and feeling a warm sense of comfort.

“Do you think I’ll be like that too when I’m pregnant?” You ask Jimin, your question hanging in the air between you. You can feel his heart rate quicken, a sign of his sudden nervousness or excitement at the thought. He shifts slightly, turning his head toward you and pulling you gently away from his body to meet your gaze. His eyes lock onto yours with a tenderness that speaks volumes, as if searching for the right words to offer reassurance or express his own thoughts about the possibility of starting a family together.

“When you get pregnant?” Jimin echoes your question, a hint of uncertainty coloring his voice. His curious gaze locks onto yours, as though he’s trying to grasp the full meaning of your words. His expression suggests he’s unsure whether he heard you correctly, leaving you with a sense of anticipation for his reaction.

You bite your lip and give a nod, confirming his question, “Yeah.” 

“You want to have kids with me?” Jimin rephrases the question, his wide eyes shimmering with the hint of tears. His joy is palpable, his beaming smile nearly breaking free as he processes the profoundness of your admission.

“Yeah, I told you before. I’ve been thinking about it more. I want to have kids with you,” you say, your smile soft and sincere as you cup his face with your hand. “A little one with your beautiful eyes, your full lips, and those adorable cheeks,” you add, your voice filled with affection. “And they’ll inherit my amazing personality too,” you tease playfully, imagining the perfect blend of your best traits in your future child.

Jimin begins to sob, tears streaming down his face as he struggles to steady his uneven breathing. Your heart aches seeing his emotional response, and you gently wipe away his tears with a comforting touch. “It’s okay, love,” you soothe, your voice soft and reassuring, offering him a sense of calm and safety as he processes the moment.

“I’m just so happy,” Jimin says, his voice breaking as he chokes back tears. “To know that you truly want kids... I was never sure if it was something you really wanted or if you were just saying it to make me happy. I would never want you to feel pressured into this, you know that, right?” His eyes glisten with a mixture of love and happiness, reflecting the depth of his emotions.

You nestle closer to Jimin, kissing him deeply as you whisper, “Oh, Jimin, don’t worry. The thought of having kids with you fills me with so much love. Just imagining a little one with your beautiful eyes and infectious smile running around lights up my world.” As your lips meet his, you savor the connection, even tasting his salty tears. In this moment, your love for him overwhelms you, making everything else fade into the background.

“I’ll go find Tae and let him know dinner’s ready,” you announce to Jimin, Yoongi, and Hoseok, who are already settled at the dining table enjoying their meals. 

You step outside, heading down the yard towards the stables where the light still glows, suggesting Taehyung might be there. It’s the most likely spot to find him, and as you walk, the evening’s cool breeze adds a calming touch to your purposeful stride. The stables, with their comforting familiarity, seem like the perfect place to begin your search.

As you step inside the stables, you’re met with an unexpected chorus of grunts, moans, and heavy breathing. The sudden sounds catch you off guard, causing your body to freeze in place. A blush quickly creeps up your cheeks, spreading to your ears as you process the intimate noises.

You grapple with the shock, as your heart races, realizing you’ve just walked in on an intimate moment. It’s a strange mix of embarrassment and disbelief, feeling like an uninvited guest in a private scene. Then it hits you—the irony of their choice to be so bold in such a public setting like the stables.

Despite the initial shock, you decide to proceed further into the stables, taking careful, deliberate steps down the aisle. You make sure to create noticeable sounds with your movements, whether by deliberately stepping harder or shuffling items along the way. This way, you aim to signal your presence and give whoever is there a chance to respond or adjust to your unexpected arrival.

“Tae?” You call out into the room, your voice echoing through the stables. Almost immediately, you hear the sound of shuffling, followed by grunts and the soft murmur of curses. 

“What?” Taehyung grunts from where he’s hidden among the hay. The sound of his voice elicits a mischievous smile from you as you imagine the flustered scene you might have interrupted.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Ara’s voice reaches you, carrying a note of embarrassment and guilt. You sense her distress, but you take it in stride, not overly concerned by the situation.

“I just wanted to let you know that dinner’s ready,” you announce in a matter-of-fact tone as you turn to leave. “Come down whenever you two are finished.” 

You can’t help but chuckle, the irony of the moment not lost on you. “You really are a hypocrite, Tae.”

As you hear more shuffling and rumbling noises behind you, you can’t help but shake your head and close the stable doors with a sense of amusement. The absurdity of the moment strikes you, and you laugh so hard that your stomach begins to ache from the intensity of your laughter.

“It’s been ages since we went for a ride just for fun,” you say with a smile as you and Yoongi trot through the lush green landscape. The freedom and simplicity of the moment bring a sense of nostalgia and joy, reminding you both of the simple pleasures that life offers.

Yoongi chuckles, a rare glint of lightness in his eyes. “Yeah, it’s a nice change of pace,” he says, his tone carrying a hint of appreciation for the moment.

You urge your horses into a gallop, with Yoongi on Holly and you on Mikrokosmos, the rush of speed and the exhilaration of freedom washing over you. The wind plays with your hair as you give the horses free rein, allowing them to kick up dirt and race to their heart's content. This moment of wild abandon brings a thrill that makes your heart soar and brings you closer to the essence of being alive.

You’ll never tire of this feeling—the sensation of flying and floating as you ride your horse through the open air. The caress of the wind on your face as you gallop through nature is an experience unlike any other, a rush of freedom and exhilaration. Even though you don’t currently need healing, the simple act of horseback riding has always been a source of peace and rejuvenation for you. It’s a therapy that soothes your soul and brings you back to your center.

You and Yoongi ride for a long while, enjoying the tranquility of the journey, until you approach the edge of a dense forest. Together, you guide your horses to a halt, stepping down and allowing them to graze on the lush green grass around you.

As you take a seat on the soft grass, the serene surroundings envelop you. The shade of the forest offers respite from the sun, and the sounds of nature—rustling leaves and distant bird calls—create a calming backdrop. It’s a moment of perfect harmony with the natural world, a peaceful interlude where you can fully absorb the beauty and stillness of your surroundings.

You settle down next to Yoongi, and you take a moment to savor the quiet companionship you share. The simplicity of your friendship brings you a deep sense of contentment, and you can’t help but feel immense gratitude for the day you met him. His presence is a constant source of comfort, and you appreciate the easy friendship and understanding you both share.

For a moment, you exchange a knowing look with Yoongi, a silent understanding passing between you. There’s no need for words—you both feel the same deep sense of appreciation for this quiet companionship. You cherish how you can simply be in each other’s company, enveloped in the serene embrace of nature, without the need for constant conversation. The unspoken bond you share is a rare and beautiful thing, a testament to the strength of your friendship.

Yoongi suddenly turns to you, his expression a mix of anticipation and nervousness. “I’m going to ask Hobi to marry me,” he confides, his voice carrying the weight of the monumental decision he’s about to make. His eyes lock onto yours, searching for your reaction, and you can sense the depth of his emotions—love, excitement, and a hint of apprehension.

You’re taken aback by Yoongi’s revelation, but simultaneously, it’s not entirely unexpected. You’ve observed his growing interest in the idea of marriage over the past few weeks, noting his thoughtful questions and contemplative musings on the subject. His decision to propose to Hoseok feels like a natural progression, given the depth of their relationship and his recent reflections on commitment and partnership.

You envelop Yoongi in a tight hug, a warm smile lighting up your face. “You absolutely should. I’m so happy for you, and I have no doubt he’ll say yes.” Your voice carries genuine excitement and encouragement, affirming Yoongi’s decision and offering him your full support.

Yoongi chuckles as you hold him close. “I hope so too,” he says, his voice filled with warmth and a touch of nervousness. “I really love him more than anything.” His words reveal the depth of his feelings for Hoseok, making the moment even more touching and heartfelt.

You nod, your expression earnest. “I know, and you both deserve all the happiness in the world.” Your words carry a deep sense of conviction, affirming your belief in their love and your wish for their future together.

You release Yoongi from the hug and lean into his shoulder, offering him your silent support. 

“You too—have you thought about when you want to get married or what kind of wedding you’d like?” Yoongi asks, his curiosity evident in his tone. He’s genuinely interested in hearing about your plans for the future, showing his investment in your happiness and his desire to share in your excitement.

You let out a thoughtful sigh. “I’m not sure yet. We’re leaning towards something small and intimate,” you admit, your voice thick with love as you chuckle. “Honestly, I just want to marry him already, but we haven’t set a date yet. Maybe it’s time we do.” 

“I understand completely. If you need any help at all—setting a date, picking out invitations, choosing your dress, anything—you know you can count on me,” Yoongi offers warmly, pulling you into a supportive hug. His reassurance and willingness to assist in the wedding planning process highlight his genuine care for you and his desire to help make your special day as perfect as possible.

“You’re my best friend, and I want you to have the most perfect, happiest wedding day,” he continues, his words brimming with sincerity and affection. As you hear his heartfelt sentiment, you suddenly feel a few tears on your hand, realizing how much his support and friendship mean to you. In response, you wrap your arms around him even tighter, embracing the depth of your friendship and the love you share.

“Jimin!” You call out excitedly, rushing through the house and into your bedroom with a package in your hand. Your enthusiasm makes you push the door open with more force than intended. Your heart races with love and anticipation, as you can’t believe the moment has finally arrived—your rings are here.

Just as the jeweler had promised, the rings have arrived a few weeks after you and Jimin selected them together. It’s been a month since you made your choice, and now the moment you’ve been eagerly waiting for is here.

Jimin groans, still caught in the haze of sleep as you crawl onto the bed beside him. With a gentle touch, you shake him awake, your excitement palpable as you prepare to share the moment with him.

“What is it, love?” He asks, his voice heavy with sleep as he slowly comes to. His groggy state doesn’t dampen the affection in his tone, and you can tell he’s ready to listen despite his drowsiness.

“It’s our wedding rings! They’re finally here,” you exclaim, your smile radiant despite the early hour. You can’t contain your excitement, and the joy in your voice is infectious. The thought of holding your rings brings a sense of happiness and anticipation that overshadows the sleepiness of the morning.

Jimin’s eyes snap open at your words, fully awake now. His gaze locks onto the package in your hands, then shifts to you in your silky nightdress. As he runs a hand through his tousled blonde hair, he bites his lip in anticipation, his excitement mirroring yours. 

“Now that the rings are here, maybe we should talk about what kind of wedding we want,” you muse as you stretch out beside Jimin. 

Jimin chuckles, his smile warm and affectionate. “Yeah, we’re not exactly known for our planning skills,” he admits with a playful tone. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, locking eyes with Jimin. “But let’s take some time now to discuss it so we can make plans.” The love in his eyes is overwhelming, and you feel like you could lose yourself in them. 

With a soft smile, you run your hand over his bare skin as he lounges on his side. “Do you still want to keep the wedding intimate and small?” You ask, your fingers tracing gentle patterns, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against your touch.

“Yeah, I do,” Jimin responds with a smile, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “We don’t have a big family, and I just want our closest friends and family there.” He lets out a soft giggle as your playful touch lingers on his torso, enjoying the intimacy and lightheartedness of the moment.

“I want an intimate wedding too,” you say, pulling closer to Jimin as you share your thoughts. “If we just want our closest loved ones there, why not have the wedding soon? Everyone is already here.” Your suggestion brings an exciting immediacy to the conversation, hinting at the possibility of a heartfelt, spontaneous celebration of your love.

Jimin’s eyes light up with realization, and he nods, his excitement palpable. He bites his lip thoughtfully, a lovely smile spreading across his face as he processes the idea. The notion of an intimate wedding with your loved ones already present clearly resonates with him.

“You’re right. Why wait?” Jimin responds, his voice filled with eager excitement. You watch as his body trembles slightly, a visible manifestation of the anticipation and love that courses through him at the thought of marrying you sooner rather than later.

“Today?” Jimin’s body radiates love and anticipation, and his infectious excitement mirrors your own. You can’t help but break into a smile as you straddle him, looking down at the person who means everything to you. In that moment, you’re overwhelmed by the thought of marrying him right then and there, the desire so strong it fills your heart to the brim.

“Today,” you reaffirm, your voice filled with conviction and exhilaration. Your heart races, almost bursting from your chest with the overwhelming love you feel. The realization that you might get married today sends a thrill through you—you’re ready and can’t wait to take this monumental step.

You surge forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that lasts for minutes. Your lips begin to ache from the intensity, but you barely notice—it feels too good, his taste intoxicating, his touch igniting a fire within you. You savor every moment, lost in the connection, in the depth of your love for him.

“Wait, we don’t have an officiant,” you suddenly realize, your excitement giving way to a moment of concern. “And on such short notice, how can we find someone out here?” Your disappointment is clear as your heart sinks at the thought of delaying your wedding plans. The longing to marry Jimin as soon as possible, now that you have your rings, feels urgent and immediate.

“Yeah, we need an officiant,” Jimin agrees with a groan, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ll ask Yoongi if he knows anyone who can help us out.” His quick-thinking response offers a glimmer of hope, suggesting a possible solution to your dilemma.

“We’ll ask him together,” you say playfully, running your fingers teasingly over Jimin’s chest. Reluctantly, you slide off him and get out of bed. “Come on, let’s get dressed.” Your voice carries a mix of anticipation and mischief, hinting at the adventure you’re about to embark on together as you prepare to speak with Yoongi.

Together, you hastily dress, the thrill of your mission adding a sense of urgency to your movements. You rush down the stairs and make your way outside, heading straight for Yoongi’s cottage with excitement propelling your steps. The anticipation of making your spontaneous wedding plans a reality fills the air.

You knock on the door, expecting a quick response, but when none comes, you decide not to waste any time. “Forget it,” you mutter, pushing the door open with determination. Your eagerness to speak with Yoongi outweighs any hesitation about barging in unannounced, driven by your desire to make your wedding plans a reality.

Yoongi and Hoseok are still asleep when you enter, and you briefly regret interrupting their rest. However, you remember that Yoongi told you to seek his help with your wedding planning, so you press on. With Jimin behind you, you approach Yoongi and gently poke his face to wake him. “Yoon, wake up,” you whisper, trying to rouse him without causing too much of a disturbance.

Yoongi grumbles, slowly stirring from sleep.

“What?” He mumbles, his voice thick with grogginess. His half-asleep state makes him sound less than enthusiastic, but the familiar tone in his voice reassures you that he’s ready to hear what you have to say.

“Do you know anyone who can officiate our wedding?” You ask, a bright smile on your face as you observe Hoseok stirring awake beside Yoongi. 

Yoongi groans, his voice heavy with sleep as he mutters, “Yeah, I know someone.”

“Great, just give me their number, and we’ll leave you alone,” you say, trying to minimize the disruption of his sleep. Although you feel a twinge of guilt for waking him, you reassure yourself that he would be up soon anyway, hoping your request doesn’t cause too much inconvenience.

“You already have it,” Yoongi grumbles, his voice still thick with sleep as he turns over in bed to face Hoseok, who is now fully awake. 

“What do you mean?” Jimin asks from your side, his curiosity evident in his voice. He looks between you and Yoongi, trying to understand the situation.

“I got ordained a couple of weeks ago, after our wedding talk,” Yoongi explains, still facing away from you as he speaks. His words catch you off guard, a pleasant surprise as you realize he anticipated your need for an officiant. This unexpected gesture of support and forethought from Yoongi fills you with gratitude and admiration for his thoughtfulness.

“You did?” Your eyes widen in surprise and your heart swells with love for your best friend. The unexpected gesture leaves you feeling incredibly grateful and touched by Yoongi’s support. You can’t help but feel an overwhelming urge to hug him and show your appreciation for his thoughtfulness.

“I had a feeling you might want to elope or have an intimate ceremony,” Yoongi says, his voice still heavy with sleep. “Let me guess—you want to get married today.” Despite his groggy state, he sits up, turning to face you. His bare chest is on display, but you focus your gaze on his slightly puffy face, your excitement building as his words confirm he understands your plans.

“Yeah, we do,” Jimin confirms, his hand reaching out to find yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. The touch is intimate, a silent affirmation of your shared desire to get married today. 

“I’ll marry you to each other. That was the whole point anyway,” Yoongi says with a casual, dismissive tone, but his voice is thick with love. His intentions are clear, and the smile playing on his lips confirms his genuine happiness for you and Jimin. His commitment to officiating your wedding adds a special touch, turning the moment into one of deep affection and anticipation.

“Thank you so much, Yoon,” you say, your voice filled with gratitude as your eyes well up with tears. Letting go of Jimin’s hand, you wrap Yoongi in a heartfelt hug. The warmth of his body and the friendly pat on your back from his hands offer comfort and reinforce the depth of your friendship. 

It’s a touching moment of friendship and appreciation for Yoongi’s willingness to play such an important role in your special day.

“No problem,” Yoongi replies, giving Jimin a playful thumbs up behind your back. “Now, off you go so I can properly wake up with my boyfriend.” His words are lighthearted and teasing, infusing a touch of humor to the moment and subtly hinting that he wants some privacy with Hoseok.

You chuckle and release Yoongi from the hug, offering him a grateful smile. “Yes, of course! Sorry for the intrusion, but thank you so much,” you say, your tone lighthearted and full of appreciation. 

Your smile is radiant, a reflection of the overwhelming happiness and love you feel. You can’t possibly contain your joy as you grab Jimin’s hand and pull him outside, eager to share your excitement and anticipation for the day ahead. Your enthusiasm is contagious, and Jimin’s grip on your hand tightens, ready to embark on this special journey with you.

“I can’t wait!” you exclaim, your voice brimming with giddiness as you practically bounce around Jimin. Your excitement is palpable, and your energy is infectious. In response, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you a deep, passionate kiss that conveys his own eagerness and love. 

The embrace feels like a promise of the beautiful day ahead and the many more to come.

It feels as though your souls are intertwined in a beautiful dance, swirling together in perfect harmony. The overwhelming love you feel fills every corner of your heart, making you ache with anticipation to marry Jimin. The closeness between you, the way your hearts beat in sync, makes it clear that this is the love you’ve always dreamed of.

Jimin gently pulls away, locking his gaze with yours. “Now we just have to call everyone,” he says with a smile, his excitement evident. “But let’s have some breakfast first.”

You nod, your heart fluttering with love as you and Jimin walk back to the house hand in hand. Together, you grab something to eat while you look at your phone, deciding who to call and invite. You start with your sister, eager to share the good news. When you tell her, she yells in excitement before breaking down in happy sobs, promising that she, Jungkook, and the rest of your friends will come over right away. 

After finishing your meal, you seek out Taehyung to share the exciting news about your wedding taking place later today. When you tell him, his face lights up with happiness and anticipation. He can’t wait to attend the ceremony and celebrate this special day with you and Jimin. 

“Love, you don’t have a wedding dress,” Jimin says, his eyes filled with concern over the oversight. But you smile, brushing it off. The lack of a wedding dress doesn’t bother you in the slightest; your focus is on the joy of marrying Jimin and celebrating your love with those closest to you.

“I don’t need a traditional white wedding dress,” you reassure Jimin, your excitement evident. “I already have the perfect dress.” With that, you pull out the flowery dress Jimin bought for you two years ago, a dress that holds sentimental value. The sight of the dress brings back fond memories, and you know it will make your wedding day even more meaningful. Jimin’s gift now becomes a beautiful symbol of your love and the journey you’ve shared together.

You watch as Jimin’s eyes fill with tears, mirroring your own emotional response. “I don’t care about tradition,” you say, your voice tender and sincere. “I care about you, and I love this dress that you gave me.” Your words convey the depth of your affection for Jimin and the sentimental value of the dress.

Jimin sniffles as he walks over to you, wrapping you in a heartfelt embrace. “I fucking love you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. 

You chuckle softly, the intensity of emotion between you two almost tangible. “I love you too,” you respond, your voice full of warmth and sincerity. 

Jimin pulls back slightly, a playful glint in his eyes as he asks, “Should I wear a suit?”

“You can if you want, but my only concern is that you’re comfortable,” you say with a mischievous smile, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “I’m going to be ripping your clothes off at the end of the day anyway, so it’s up to you.” Your teasing words make Jimin burst out in a giggle.

You take your time getting dressed and applying makeup, stealing a glance at Jimin out of the corner of your eye. You watch as he slips on his suit and hat, the ensemble bringing a smile to your face. He looks undeniably dapper, though in your eyes, Jimin would look good in anything. 

Hand in hand, you and Jimin walk out of your bedroom and descend the stairs, the anticipation building with each step. As you reach the living room, you’re greeted by the sight of your family and closest friends, all gathered and dressed up, their faces beaming with joy. Your eyes meet those of your sister, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin, all of them warmly smiling at you and Jimin. The warmth and love in the room envelop you both, creating a perfect setting for the special day ahead. 

Your eyes begin to well up with tears as you take in the sight of your family and friends gathered to celebrate your special day. You start to understand why your sister was so emotional on her wedding day—the overwhelming sense of love, support, and unity is almost too much to contain. The realization of how significant this moment is fills you with a deep, heartfelt joy.

“Where do you want to get married?” Yoongi asks, his eyes reflecting genuine interest as he addresses both you and Jimin. The question holds a sense of anticipation, as though he’s ready to help make your dream ceremony a reality wherever you choose. 

“Outside in nature. We have to ride there on horseback,” you announce with a pleased smile, grabbing Jimin’s hand as you envision your dream wedding. The thought of saying your vows surrounded by the beauty of the natural world, riding to the ceremony on horseback, fills you with excitement. 

“You’re lucky we’re all on horseback,” your sister grunts, gently caressing her growing belly.

“And you had no issue letting her ride a horse?” You ask Jungkook with disbelief, clearly surprised by his decision. His choice seems at odds with the usual precautions he has taken during her pregnancy, and you can’t help but express your astonishment.

“She’s a grown woman and a skilled rider. I’m not about to argue with her on that,” Jungkook responds, his voice confident as he defends his decision. His mischievous smile reveals his trust in your sister's abilities and his decision to respect her autonomy. 

“Damn right I am,” your sister retorts with a grin, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and leading him outside. 

You hand the rings to Yoongi, your trust in him evident in your gesture. “I want you to present them to us when the moment comes,” you tell him, entrusting him with a crucial role in your wedding ceremony. 

Yoongi takes the rings from you and carefully places them in the pocket of his black jeans. His deliberate action reassures you that the rings are safe with him. 

“Let’s get you two married,” Yoongi announces with a grin, leading the way to the stables alongside you, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, Seokjin and Hoseok. As you prepare to saddle up, you can feel the anticipation in the air, the group united in the shared excitement of the day ahead.

You gently pat Mikrokosmos on her head as you tack her up, leading her out of the stables. As you meet Jimin outside, your hand instinctively finds his, and together you guide your horses toward the house where the others are waiting. 

You gallop out to the perfect spot, the wind rushing past you and your companions. There’s a serene, unspoken understanding between you all as you ride. The silence that envelops you adds to the magic of the moment, as you take in the breathtaking beauty of the open land and the anticipation of the ceremony to come. 

The only sounds are the rhythmic hoofbeats and the gentle breeze.

As you finally approach the spot, your heart swells with recognition and joy. The intimate clearing, framed by trees and shrubs with the majestic mountains as a backdrop, feels like a scene from a dream. Fields of bluebonnets and wildflowers you��ve yet to identify create a vibrant, fragrant carpet. You guide Mikrokosmos to a gentle stop and gracefully dismount, allowing the breathtaking beauty to wash over you. For a moment, you stand in awe, absorbing the serene landscape, as Jimin and the rest of your loved ones arrive, matching your shared sense of wonder.

Taehyung takes in the surrounding nature, his expression curious. “What’s so special about this place?” He asks, his gaze sweeping over the vibrant wildflowers and picturesque backdrop.

“This is where we had sex for the first time,” Jimin reveals, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek, sending a thrill down your spine. 

Taehyung grunts and rolls his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “You guys are so gross,” he teases, but there’s an undercurrent of fondness in his voice. 

“I think it’s incredibly sweet and romantic,” Soo-ah chimes in, walking up to you with a warm smile on her face.

“After what I heard you and Ara do in the stables, I don’t think you’re one to talk,” you retort, a playful huff in your tone. Your teasing jab at Taehyung immediately silences him.

The group chuckles together, their laughter echoing through the serene surroundings. Yoongi steps forward, positioning you and Jimin face-to-face while your friends form a supportive circle around you. Meanwhile, your horses graze quietly in the background.

You can hardly contain your excitement, your body trembling with joy and love. The setting holds a special place in your heart, as it is deeply meaningful for both you and Jimin. The sheer perfection of the moment and the location fills you with gratitude and anticipation, knowing that there couldn’t be a more fitting or beautiful place for your wedding.

“Are you ready?” Yoongi asks, his voice soft and warm. His gentle smile is filled with genuine affection, and his eyes sparkle with love as he looks at you and Jimin. 

You both nod, grinning like fools in love—because you are. The anticipation swells within you, knowing you’re about to marry your childhood friend, your longtime crush, your soulmate. This moment is the culmination of a beautiful journey, and your hearts are ready to take the next step together.

Jimin removes his hat and hands it to his brother, a casual yet deliberate gesture. As he runs his hand through his hair, you can’t help but be drawn to him, knowing how that move always gets your heart racing and turning you on.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, smiling warmly at the gathered guests. “Welcome, friends and family. We’re here to celebrate the union of these two wonderful souls. Today, we’re witnesses to their commitment to love and their choice to spend their lives together. Let’s share in their joy and support them on this beautiful journey.” His words set a heartfelt tone for the ceremony, inviting everyone to join in the celebration of your love and dedication to each other.

“Jimin, you’re up first. I hope you prepared some vows,” Yoongi says with a chuckle, eliciting laughter from the rest of the party. You don’t mind the light-hearted banter; in fact, it helps ease the slight nervousness coursing through your veins. 

Jimin’s soft smile grows wider, showcasing his perfect crooked teeth and those endearing dimples. “My love,” he begins, his voice filled with affection. “I’ve loved you for so long, since we were kids, and my love for you has only grown stronger. Sometimes, the intensity of it scares me, but I know that with you by my side, there’s nothing to fear. Together, we can face anything, and my love for you feels transcendent, ever-growing and evolving. I know I’m flawed and have made mistakes, but your unwavering love has been my anchor. I’m so grateful for you and your love. I promise to cherish you forever, to fill our days with happiness, adventure, and boundless love. I’m excited to share my life with you, to build a family with you. All my love is yours, and it always will be.” 

His heartfelt vows resonate deeply, conveying his profound commitment and adoration for you.

As you hold Jimin’s hand, a wave of emotion washes over you, making your hands suddenly feel sweaty. Gazing into his soft brown eyes, you see a world of love and devotion reflected back at you. His eyes speak volumes about his boundless affection for you, and you can’t help but feel a lump form in your throat. The depth of his emotions stirs something profound within you, filling you with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

Jimin smiles at you, his eyes brimming with tears of emotion. You watch as a few slip down his cheeks, his vulnerability touching your heart. Your instinct is to reach out and gently wipe away his tears, but you resist, allowing him to fully experience this profound moment. 

Yoongi turns to you with a gentle reminder, “It’s your turn,” his words prompting you to take the next step in your vows. His supportive gaze encourages you, and you take a moment to gather your thoughts and emotions. 

You chuckle nervously, mustering all the love you have for this incredible man. “Jimin, my love,” you begin, “I’ve loved you since we were kids, but my love for you developed slowly over the years. It took me time to realize my feelings, but they’ve always been there, just waiting to be unlocked. I love you with all my heart; you are my soulmate, and I adore your heart, your soul, and your kindness. I love you so much that it should be illegal, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, building a family together.”

You pause as tears begin to flow, overwhelmed with emotion. You clench his hands in yours and continue, “With you, I’ve found my home. Home is where my heart is, and my heart is with you.” Your heartfelt vows touch everyone present, the intensity of your love clear in every word you say.

Jimin starts to lean in for a kiss, but Yoongi playfully interrupts, placing a hand between you. “Wait, the rings first,” he chuckles, and the rest of the party joins in the laughter. 

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as Yoongi asks if you want to marry each other. The anticipation builds, but when you both say yes, your heart swells with happiness. Yoongi hands you your rings, and the exchange of this symbol of your love and commitment fills the moment with significance and emotion. 

Jimin takes your left hand in his, carefully sliding off your engagement ring. He transfers it to your right hand, placing it gently on your ring finger. Then, with deliberate tenderness, he slides the wedding ring onto your left hand, his movements slow and precise. Once the ring is in place, a surge of happiness washes over you. You gaze at the beautiful ring on your finger, admiring the way the silver and gold intertwine perfectly. The design symbolizes your unity, reflecting your journey together and the depth of your love. 

You examine the ring in your hand, its engraving catching the light—a delicate inscription of your name and the date you first met. The thought that you both carry each other’s name with you on your rings fills you with warmth and a sense of deep love.

You take Jimin’s left hand, your touch gentle but steady. As you find his ring finger, you slowly slide the ring onto it, your movements deliberate and heartfelt. The moment feels sacred, the symbolism of placing the ring on his finger marking the beginning of your new life together. You watch his face light up with joy, and you know that this exchange of rings signifies not just your love, but the promises you've made to walk hand in hand for the rest of your lives.

When the ring is securely on Jimin’s finger, you both lift your gazes to meet each other’s eyes. The moment feels charged with emotion, as if the world stands still for just the two of you. Then, you turn your head to Yoongi, seeking his next words to finalize the ceremony. Your anticipation grows as you await the moment that will officially seal your union.

“Yes, yes, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss,” Yoongi declares, his tone almost nonchalant, as if he can hardly be bothered. But you know the truth—his words carry warmth and a deep sense of joy for you both. His casual delivery brings a touch of humor and charm to the ceremony, and the affection in his eyes reveals just how much this moment means to him.

You grin widely as you lean in to kiss your husband. This kiss feels different, charged with a new sense of intimacy and commitment. Shivers run through your body as you feel giddy, overwhelmed with joy and happiness. 

As your lips meet, you don’t pull apart. Instead, you stay locked in the kiss, savoring the love. Jimin holds you tight and pushes you back gently, making you hover in the air as he deepens the kiss. The embrace is both tender and passionate, sealing your vows with a kiss that signifies the start of your new journey together.

Your friends and family erupt in cheers, catcalls, and applause, filling the air with their excitement. They shout congratulations and well-wishes, creating an atmosphere of celebration and joy around you. Their enthusiastic response amplifies the happiness of the moment, making you feel truly surrounded by love and support as you and Jimin share your first moments as a married couple.

Jimin lifts you back up, and you both pull away, gasping for air before bursting into laughter. The moment feels lighthearted and full of joy. You lace your fingers with his, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and devotion. It’s as if you can’t get enough of him, your heart overflowing with affection for your husband.

“Congratulations!” Yoongi says with a beaming smile, and the rest of the party echoes his sentiment, surrounding you and Jimin with hugs and kisses. You’re showered with love and affection from all sides, your heart swelling with gratitude. As tears of joy stream down your face, you realize how truly blessed you are to have such supportive and loving people in your life. This outpouring of emotion makes the moment unforgettable, truly sealing the beauty of your special day.

“I’m crashing at Jessi and Kook’s tonight,” Taehyung declares with a playful grin, hugging you tightly. “Because I know you two are gonna do nasty things I’d rather not hear or see.” His teasing tone brings a lighthearted touch to the moment, and his affection for you is clear in the way he holds you close.

You can’t help but burst out laughing at Taehyung’s comment—it’s true, and everyone knows it. The anticipation of getting home and fuck the shit out of Jimin, your husband, fills you with too much excitement. You’re eager to rip his clothes off and lose yourself in the passion and intimacy of your new life together.

After spending a few moments catching up with your friends and family, you and Jimin say your farewells. You mount your horses, waving goodbye to everyone as they prepare to ride back to Bora Ranch. The journey home to Bell Ranch with Jimin feels serene and special, as you reflect on the incredible day you’ve had and the future that lies ahead. The ride back allows you to savor the peaceful moments together, anticipating the start of your new life as a married couple.

You and Jimin race across the open fields, urging your horses forward as excitement pulses through you both. The wind whips your dress around your thighs, but you pay no mind—you can’t wait to get back and have sex with your husband once you reach the sanctuary of your home.

When you arrive back at the ranch, you ride straight up to the stables, untack your horses, and settle them comfortably in their stalls. The moment you’re done, you and Jimin turn to each other, the anticipation palpable. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, unable to contain your desire any longer. 

You push Jimin against a stall, your eyes locked on his as you let out a low, throaty growl. “I want you, Jimin,” you whisper, the words dripping with desire, as your breath mingles with his. 

When you look into Jimin’s eyes, they are completely dark with desire. The intensity of his gaze sends a rush of arousal through you, and you can feel the heat between you two. There’s no doubt that your panties are already soaked, your anticipation for what’s to come pushing you closer to the edge. 

“Shit, I want you too,” Jimin pants, his breath hot and heavy as you touch him through his pants. 

You lean in close, whispering in his ear, “Let’s do it on the bed, like old married people.” 

Jimin chuckles, allowing you to lead him out of the stables and back to your house. The playful anticipation between you two is palpable. Once inside, you pull him close and knock his hat off before kissing him hungrily.

Your lips move from his mouth to his neck, planting kisses and gentle bites as you moan against his skin. 

Your hands glide eagerly over Jimin’s chest as you attempt to unbutton his shirt, but your impatience gets the best of you. Instead, you tear the shirt open, buttons flying to the ground as you reveal his toned chest. The sight of his exposed skin makes your breath catch and your lips part in anticipation, licking them as you prepare to feast your eyes and hands on him.

You swiftly pull the shirt off Jimin, leaving him shirtless in front of you. His bare chest and the desire in his eyes make your pulse race. In response, you reach behind to unzip your dress, letting it gracefully slip off your body and fall to the floor. 

Jimin’s eyes widen in astonishment as he gazes at you standing before him in just a bra. “You weren’t wearing panties this whole time?” He asks, his voice filled with lust and a hint of surprise. 

You chuckle softly, enjoying Jimin’s reaction to your revelation. Moving closer, you tease him by running your fingers playfully over his pants, feeling his dick pressing against the fabric. 

With a sultry tone and a smoldering gaze, you draw out the words, “No panties today,” savoring the look of desire in Jimin’s eyes. You bat your eyelashes flirtatiously and bite your lip.

“My nasty girl,” Jimin murmurs, his voice thick with a blend of lust and love. His hands grip your hips firmly, drawing you closer to him. As he moves in to kiss your neck, he adds a playful bite, promising a purple necklace as a mark of your passion. 

Jimin’s breath brushes against your ear as he pants, “I want to fuck my wife.” 

The raw desire in his voice sends shivers down your spine, igniting an electric anticipation within you. 

“Then take me to bed and fuck my brains out,” you moan, the intensity of your desire for Jimin nearly overwhelming. Your voice is laden with lust and love, and your chest feels like it's about to burst from the sheer force of your emotions. 

Jimin’s strong hands grip your hips firmly, lifting you effortlessly. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, holding on tight as he carries you through the house and up the stairs. nst yours fuels your desire, promising a night of unrestrained passion and closeness.

You feel Jimin’s heart pounding against your chest, the rhythm a sweet symphony to your ears. When he playfully tosses you onto the bed, you burst into laughter, feeling a rush of excitement. You spread your legs, allowing him to see just how wet you already are for him.

“Fucking hell. How long have you been like this?” Jimin exclaims, his voice filled with astonishment and desire as he takes in the sight of you. 

His gaze shifts down to his pants, noticing the wet stains there. “You’re dripping,” he remarks, a mixture of surprise and eagerness in his tone. 

“I just can’t wait for my husband to fuck me,” you say, your voice dripping with desire. As you teasingly touch your clit, Jimin lets out a groan, a blend of frustration and intense lust. 

You move to the edge of the bed where Jimin stands, your eyes locked on his. With a deliberate, teasing smile, you unzip his pants and pull them down along with his boxers, revealing his neglected, hard cock. It springs free, standing tall and proud, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.

The sight of him makes you lick your lips in anticipation. Without hesitation, you grab his cock and wrap your lips around him, surprising him with your eagerness. 

Jimin’s taste is intoxicating, and you can’t get enough of him. You eagerly take him into your mouth, sucking him with a fervor that makes him moan with pleasure. The sounds he makes—obscene and raw—intensify your desire, fueling your passion for him. 

You moan around Jimin’s dick, the vibrations sending shivers through him. His hands find purchase in your hair, his fingers tenderly stroking your cheeks as you hold his gaze, the intimacy of the moment building between you. As you look into his eyes, you can feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Love, I’m seriously not going to last long, and I want to come inside you,” Jimin tells you, his voice filled with urgency and desire. He gently tries to pull you away, his hands on your shoulders, revealing just how close he is as he tries to pull you off his dick.

You release Jimin’s cock and look up into his lustful eyes, your own gaze filled with longing and confidence. “I want you to come more than once—we have all the time we need, love,” you say, a playful edge to your voice. 

You wrap your warm mouth around him again, this time with more urgency and speed. Your cheeks hollow as you increase your pace, your tongue expertly teasing his frenulum. The sensation makes him gasp for breath, his hands finding your hair and pulling on it gently, a sign of his overwhelming pleasure. The combination of your soft tongue and the intensity of your actions sends waves of ecstasy through Jimin, his grip tightening in your hair. 

Jimin grunts above you, the sounds of his pleasure intensifying. You look up at him, taking in the utterly overwhelmed expression on his face and knowing he’s close to his orgasm. Determined to push him over the edge, you stroke the part of him that doesn’t fit in your mouth as you try to take him deeper.

You feel his dick hit the back of your throat, but you relax your jaw, focusing on breathing through your nose. 

As you continue to pleasure him with your mouth, you reach down with your other hand to play with his balls. The added sensation makes him throb instantly in your mouth, and you respond by moaning even more around him. 

Jimin moans your name as he pulls his cock from your mouth. With a few strokes, he releases his warm, white seed onto your face, while you stick out your tongue, eager to catch some of it and swallow. 

He grunts, panting for air, as he empties the last of his release. As he relaxes, you move in to tease the head of his dick with your tongue, playfully licking it like a lollipop. 

Jimin whimpers softly from overstimulation, but his gaze is filled with love and adoration as he looks at you. “My nasty girl,” he murmurs, his voice laced with affection. “You look so beautiful with my cum on your face.” 

He reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. As the fabric slips away, a trail of his seed runs from your face down to your breasts, and he groans at the sight.

He gently pushes you back onto the bed and straddles you, his now softening cock brushing against your skin. You don’t mind; in fact, you savor the intimate moment, the closeness of your bodies, and the tender weight of him on top of you. His gaze locks with yours, filled with affection and desire.

Jimin shifts his position, moving off the bed and sitting down. He then pulls your body closer to him, positioning you so that your pussy is right in front of his face. His eyes light up with hunger and admiration as he takes in the sight of you.

“I’m gonna taste you now, wifey.”

His words send a wave of desire through you, causing your pussy to clench in response. A moan escapes your lips, and you find yourself yearning for the touch of his lips and tongue on your most sensitive spot. 

He wastes no time, immediately diving in with his tongue. His skilled lips find your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. You instinctively wrap your thighs around his head, resting them on his strong shoulders for support. Meanwhile, your hands grip the sheets tightly, holding on for dear life as he works his magic on you. 

Slurping sounds echo through the bedroom, creating a symphony of intimacy and pleasure. Although he’s just begun, you already feel swept away by the sensations he is creating. The intensity of his touch leaves you feeling overwhelmed, as though you're already on the edge of an orgasm.

His tongue vigorously licks your clit, and you find yourself lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. Your wetness amplifies the sensations, making every touch feel intensely magnified. Each stroke of his tongue sends shivers through you.

Jimin’s hands gently part your folds, his touch both tender and purposeful. He lowers his head, his tongue making its way inside you, exploring with an intense, focused attention. The sensation of his tongue entering you sends waves of pleasure through your body, and his expert movements ignite a fire within you. 

“Jimin!” As Jimin’s tongue enters you, you can’t help but scream his name, your voice echoing with a mix of pleasure and overwhelming lust.

The soft muscle of his tongue skillfully dives in and out of your entrance, exploring you deeply as far as his tongue can reach. His nose brushes against your clit with each motion, creating an intoxicating combination of sensations. The precise rhythm of his tongue, paired with the stimulating touch of his nose, drives you wild with pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

The pleasure is overwhelming as you feel a knot tightening in your stomach. Your orgasm begins to build, slowly but powerfully, taking your breath away with each wave of sensation. The anticipation of release makes your body tremble, your senses on high alert as you inch closer to the peak of release.

Jimin pulls away from your pussy, taking a moment to gaze at you. You’re flushed, sweating, and panting heavily from the intense pleasure he’s been giving you. His lower face glistens with your juices, evidence of your intense arousal and his passionate exploration. The sight of him like this, lost in the moment, is slowly making you lose your mind.

“Come on my face, love,” Jimin commands as he moves back to your pussy. He licks and sucks your folds, his mouth working you over with intense precision. One of his hands finds your clit, his deft fingers expertly rubbing the sensitive bud.

The pleasure is overwhelming as you feel your toes curl and your breath grow short and erratic. Your climax hits you like a freight train, the intensity taking you by surprise. You moan his name loudly, surrendering to the ecstasy as you come on his tongue and face. 

He licks you up with an eager intensity, savoring your essence as though he’s drinking you in. 

“Fuck, Jimin,” you pant, your voice laden with satisfaction and awe. Jimin finally pulls away from your now sensitive pussy, his lips lingering for a moment before he moves up beside you on the bed. As he joins you, his presence offers comfort and a sense of closeness, allowing you to bask in the afterglow of the intense pleasure he just brought you. 

Jimin hovers over you, his breath warm against your skin. As you notice his now fully erect cock, he leans down to whisper in your ear, “You made me hard again, wifey.” 

His words send a thrill through you, the playful intimacy of his tone making your pulse quicken. 

“Already?” you pant, a mix of surprise and lust in your voice. 

“Yeah, my wifey just drives me wild,” he groans, his voice thick with lust. 

Oh God, every time he calls you ‘wifey,’ your pussy clenches involuntarily. The sweet intimacy of the term sends a wave of desire through you, and you wonder if he’s aware of the effect it has on you.

Jimin lies down beside you, a playful glint in his eyes and a chuckle of lust escaping his lips. “Come and ride me,” he invites, his tone teasing yet filled with desire. 

Your whole body tingles with anticipation, and even though you’re tired and overwhelmed with lust and love, you find the energy to rise and straddle Jimin. You take his dick in your hand, aligning it with your entrance before slowly lowering yourself onto him. The sensation of him stretching you is intense, the smooth glide enhancing the pleasure for both of you. You savor every inch of him, and the stretch is oh so exquisite and intense. He fills you up completely, an intoxicating pleasure that makes your breath catch and your pulse race.

You brace yourself with your hands on his chiseled chest and begin to ride him, bouncing with a rhythm that matches your pounding heartbeat. The sensation of his cock inside you intensifies with each movement, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. As you shift your weight and grind against him, the pleasure deepens, drawing out gasps and moans from both of you.

“Fuck, my wife is so fucking hot,” Jimin praises, his voice heavy with lust as you ride him. Your pussy tightens around him, and you feel a powerful wave of arousal knowing how much he enjoys watching you take control. The sensation of him inside you is overwhelming, both physically and emotionally, and you know it won’t take much to push you to the brink of another orgasm.

His words of admiration intensify your pleasure, the feeling of his thick cock filling you up adding to your imminent unraveling.

“Jimin, you’re gonna make me come again,” you pant, your voice laced with both pleasure and exhaustion. Though your body feels tired, you continue to ride him, driven by the intense desire to reach another orgasm.

“Are you close?” Jimin asks, his voice thick with lust and anticipation. His intense gaze meets yours, the desire in his eyes mirroring your own. His question fuels your urgency, and you can feel your body tightening with the approach of another climax. 

You nod eagerly, biting your lip to hold back the pleasure, “Yes!” 

Jimin’s fingers find your clit again, and even though you’re sensitive, the sensation is intensely pleasurable. He rubs the nub with expert precision, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through you. The combination of his touch and the fullness inside you brings you to the brink, your body about to erupt like a volcano. 

The pleasure is overwhelming, teetering on the edge of being too intense to take. As you reach your peak, you scream Jimin’s name, your voice echoing through the room. Your climax ripples through you, every nerve ending on fire as your body tightens around his cock. The release is a burst of euphoria, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed by the ecstasy he brings you.

You catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you steady yourself on Jimin’s chest. The afterglow of your climax leaves you feeling both tired and utterly full of love. His warmth beneath your hands grounds you.

“So good, my love. Now relax while I take care of the rest, wifey,” Jimin murmurs with tenderness. He turns you around gently and guides you back onto the mattress, his dick still nestled inside you. As he adjusts his position, he sinks deeper, eliciting a moan from you at the intensity of the sensation.

Jimin pulls your legs to the side, opening you up to him, and then begins to thrust his cock into you with a steady, powerful rhythm. Each thrust fills you deeply, his pace unwavering as he seeks to deliver intense pleasure. 

The hypnotic motion of Jimin’s hips captivates you, each precise movement drawing you deeper into the moment. His scars catch the light as they move with him, a testament to his strength and resilience. There's something truly magical about witnessing this intimate dance, the rhythm of his body resonating with yours. You can’t help but get lost in him, this man who is now your husband, the one who makes your heart race and your soul sing.

You feel as though you can barely withstand the intensity of the experience. It’s not painful—in fact, it’s the opposite. Waves of pleasure ripple through your entire body, creating a sensation that feels simultaneously like floating and drowning in ecstasy. The tingle is unusual, yet deeply satisfying, and you find yourself reveling in the overwhelming delight. The sensation is both exhilarating and surreal, leaving you craving more of this extraordinary feeling.

Jimin lowers his mouth to your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin as he bites and kisses you. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, making you squirm beneath him with a mixture of pleasure and lust.

As he moves up to kiss you deeply on the mouth, the intensity of the moment heightens. The deep, passionate kiss perfectly synchronizes with his thrusts, amplifying the pleasure for both of you. His lips on yours, combined with the intimate rhythm of his body, create an electric connection that leaves you breathless and aching for more.

Your hands grip Jimin’s biceps firmly, drawing him closer to you. When he pulls away for a moment, you lock eyes with him, staring into his deep brown orbs. You see your whole universe reflected in them, and it fuels your desire for more—for everything he can give you.

You can’t take the distance for long, pulling him down to you again and kissing him with an intensity that feels like your life depends on it. The kiss is a passionate, all-consuming expression of your love and need for him, and it binds you even closer together in the moment.

“I’m gonna come soon,” Jimin pants as he pulls back from your kiss. His breathless voice conveys the intensity of his desire, the pleasure he feels evident in his expression, with the way that his nose is scrunching so cutely.

“Come inside and get me pregnant,” you pant, biting your lip and moaning his name.

Jimin’s eyes widen in surprise as he stares at you. “Pregnant? But you’re on the pill,” he blurts out, his expression a mix of shock and wonder.

You squeeze Jimin’s biceps tightly, your voice thick with both love and lust. “Not anymore,” you reveal, a hint of determination in your gaze. “I haven’t been taking them for a month.” 

The weight of your confession hangs in the air, and you can see the surprise in his eyes. 

For a moment, Jimin remains completely still inside you, his eyes locked with yours, reflecting disbelief and a touch of awe. The depth of your confession catches him off guard, and you can see the range of emotions playing across his face. The intimacy of the moment deepens as he processes the significance of your words, the silence charged with anticipation and the weight of what this decision could mean for your future.

“I said I wanted your kids. I wasn’t joking. Now fill me up with your seed, Jimin.”

He slowly starts to move again, his breath coming out in short, measured puffs. Running a hand through his hair, he bites his lip in a mix of concentration and desire, his expression shifting from disbelief to raw, intense passion.

You feel the coil within you tighten rapidly. The pleasure builds swiftly, spiraling out of your control, and you find yourself unable to hold back. Without warning, the coil snaps, sending you crashing into another climax. You clench tightly around his cock, a moan of his name escaping your lips as you surrender to the wave of ecstasy that consumes you.

“Shit,” Jimin groans as your walls tighten around him, hugging his cock close. He thrusts into you a few more times, each movement charged with intensity, before he releases inside you, filling you with his seed. 

Jimin huffs above you, his breathing heavy as he pulls his sweaty bangs away from his face. A wide smile stretches across his lips as he gazes down at you, and you return the smile, your heart overflowing with love. He leans down to kiss you tenderly, his cock still nestled inside you, giving occasional twitches that make you chuckle.

His groan reverberates into your mouth as he whispers, “Wifey, I love you.” 

His voice is husky with emotion, and you can feel the depth of his affection in those simple words. The tenderness of the moment, combined with the enduring intimacy of your bond, envelops you both in a wave of warmth and love.

You chuckle softly, your voice filled with warmth and affection. “Hubby, I love you,” you say, your words a playful echo of his. 

Jimin gently pulls out of you, savoring the moment before he falls to your side, resting beside you. 

You feel some of his seed trickle out of you, but the sensation is a natural part of the intimacy you share, and you embrace it without concern. Turning onto your side, you face Jimin, and he mirrors your movement, meeting your gaze with tenderness. The simple act of being close to him fills you with warmth and satisfaction, the afterglow of your love making soothing your body and soul.

He notices the lingering traces of his seed on your face and gently brushes it away with his fingers, chuckling softly. “You still have some semen on your face,” he remarks playfully, his touch light and tender. “But you still look incredibly hot.” 

“And I’m sorry about your neck—it’s kinda purple now,” Jimin says with a chuckle, his fingers lightly tracing over the tender spot. You move closer to him, your hand finding his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. 

“I don’t mind,” you reassure him with a loving tone and a gentle smile. Your words are filled with warmth and acceptance, conveying that the marks are a sign of your closeness and shared passion. 

“We should probably clean up,” Jimin suggests, beginning to rise, but you stop him with a firm squeeze of your hand on his bicep.

“No, please just stay here with me. We can take a bath together later,” you plead, your voice soft and filled with affection. Jimin sees the warmth in your eyes and smiles, giving in to your request. He settles back down beside you, wrapping an arm around you. The comfort of being close and the promise of a relaxing bath later creates a sense of serenity, allowing you both to enjoy the moment of rest and closeness.

“You know, your vows were really beautiful,” Jimin says, his voice gentle and filled with exhaustion, love, and happiness. His words carry the depth of his appreciation for the heartfelt promises you made to him, reflecting the strong emotional bond you share. 

“Thank you. So were yours,” you murmur, leaning in to capture his plush lips in a tender, lingering kiss. The soft press of your lips expresses your appreciation and love, deepening the intimate bond between you and making the moment all the more special.

Jimin gently runs his hand through your hair, his touch soothing and affectionate. “What you said about home—I think you’re right,” he says, his voice soft and filled with contemplation. 

You give Jimin a questioning look. “Which part?” you ask, curiosity evident in your tone. Your eyes search his face, eager to understand which aspect of your heartfelt vows resonated most with him. 

Jimin takes a deep breath, filling his chest with the love that lingers in the air between you. “Home is where my heart is, and my heart is with you,” he says, his voice filled with emotion. His words echo your own from earlier, emphasizing the profound bond and shared understanding you have found in each other. 

“Oh, that part,” you chuckle, seeing Jimin’s eyes well up with tears once more. Your heart swells with affection as you lean in to kiss him. The soft brush of your lips against his ignites a cascade of tender, heartfelt kisses—one after another, until you lose count of how many times your lips have met. 

With your hands, you cup Jimin’s cheeks, feeling the warmth of his skin against your palms. His musky scent envelops you, filling you with a sense of deep contentment and love like you’ve never known before. Your heart seems to beat in perfect sync with his, an unspoken rhythm that binds you together.

His eyes shimmer with tears, but you find solace in the fact that you have each other. The unbreakable bond between you brings a profound sense of peace. You know with certainty that you will share your lives, facing whatever comes together. This bond is more than just love; it’s a soul-deep recognition that you have married your true soulmate.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (in a few days I’ll write the epilogue) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

👑The girl in the silver dress👑New version (Prt 2) (prt 1 here)

Aemond x reader

Tags: Fluffish, royalty, modernroyalty, theselection

Cool devider credits: firefly graphics

🔷Summary: You are invited to become a selected girl for Prince Jacaerys's selection. You never thought you would fall for his uncle, prince Aemond instead.

🔷Author's note: Based on the books by Kiera Cass, but reading them is not required.

🔷Wordcount :5840

🔷Warnings: Mentions of non-con (Not happening to mc or oc) It will happen to Dyana, and it will be kept very without details. Mc does try to comfort her.

TAGLIST: @connorsui @lportes-22 @thisaccountisrandomsstuff @nikkitc0703

Training continues for months. You are trained how to sit, how to exit a car, how to dress and even how to nod and how to smile. Things you thought you had mastered and conquered long ago, are now fresh tall mountains that you must conquer once again. Lady Aemma has been a resentful and ruthless teacher that does not value tardiness, talking back to her or other inappropriate things.

As the snow begins to fall in the courtyard, and you make your way out for some much needed personal free time, you notice you aren’t alone in the old gardens. Against the cold stone walls, covered in ivy, is a long tall familiar silver haired boy with a cigarette in his hands, clearly lighting it before bringing it to his pink soft looking lips.

You hate how nervous you are around royalty. It has been months and for all reason, you should be prepared for anything they would throw at you. And yet you are terrified of them. You feel like an ant, marching up to a lion. He would not care that he crushes you under his paws. He would not even know or realize. 

You make a small prayer to the gods in your head before giving it your all, and making a tiny curtsy for the prince. ‘’Prince Aemond.’’ You say, acknowledging him.

He does not greet you. He doesn't even know your name. ‘’You’re in my nephew’s selection.’’ He says, taking in your gown, remembering when you spoke to him. You give a hesitant nod. Prince Aegon has courted a lot of girls from the selection, and they all have been sent home or worse, even punished for their treason. From the 35 girls, he ruined the chances for at least 5 of them. The Queen covers it up very well, and Lady Aemma protects the girl’s privacy, but you noticed a pattern. Aegon scoops during a lesson, talks with a girl, the next lesson, he brings a gift, and the lesson after that, she is never seen or heard from again.

Aemond grabs his leather jacket, searching his right pocket. He brings out a used pack of cigarettes, broken open and most cigarettes already gone. ‘’Do you smoke?’ He wonders, out loud. You hear Aemma scream in your head, and you never quite liked the taste of cigarettes. So you shake your head.

Smoking was something your grandfather used to do, and now he is dead. 

It is a bit attractive, however, because you know it's bad but you don’t need to join Aemond in his activities.

‘’I try to avoid it.’’ You say, carefully picking your words, hearing Jace’s warning in your head.

He smiles, as if lost in thoughts.

‘’Hm. Clever.’’ You feel your cheeks tingle and they turn red because of the cold, you hope it is the cold.

Aemond puts the cigarettes away, and you notice several rings around his fingers. ‘’What is your name, again?’’ He wonders.

You see no harm in telling him that.

‘’Y/N.’’ You say. 

He briefly frowns before exhaling smoke. ‘’No Lady or fancy last name?’’ He is right. You should have said that. So why didn’t you?

You feel pressured and anxious.  ‘’I-’’

Aemond grins. ‘’I’m teasing.’’ He tells you, closing in a bit.

You nod. You can’t feel your toes because of the cold but you aren’t sure that it matters. ‘’Right. Sorry.’’

He steps back, and just like that the spell he briefly put you under is broken. ‘’Don’t apologize. I won’t.’’ He adds with a wink. It is what you told him at the ball. You feel yourself smile. You step a little closer.

‘’I really appreciate the time you took to talk to me at the ball.’’ You say, and you mean it.

He smiles as if to say he liked it too. ‘’It’s always a pleasure to talk with someone who appreciates history.’’ He takes notice of something behind the two of you and frowns, you follow his gaze, turn around but by the time you have done so, it is gone.

He distances himself. ‘’However, my lady, I’m afraid the walls have eyes here, and ears. I think it is best for you, to go back inside.’’

You feel dread fill your chest. ‘’Did I offend you?’’

Aemond shakes his head, returning to his smoke.‘’I’m protecting you, that is all.’’

Your feelings are all over the place after your talk with Prince Aemond. One moment, he seems very kind and gentle, the next, it seems like he pushes walls around him to protect himself. You quietly wonder who caused him to be this quiet and this alone. He can smoke as many cigarettes as he likes, wear as many suits you wouldn't afford if you sold your left arm, and you would still see a lonely young man in a suit.

Your thoughts are wandering when you walk inside the halls that lead to the rooms of the selected girls. You are so caught up in your thoughts, you don’t notice that you bump into someone.

You apologize, quickly grabbing her bag for her that falls to the ground. It is filled with clothing, crammed into the small bag. When you finally meet her eye, you see its Dyana. You are very happy to see her. Until you see that she has cried. ‘’I’m leaving.’’ She tells you, with her timid soft and even more broken voice.

You frown, recalling how happy Jace seemed when he danced with her. ‘’O, why?’’ Dyana fumbles with a lock of her messy bun, barely looking at you, her eyes far away.

She finally breaks under your gaze. ‘’I’m not fit to marry the Prince anymore. This place only brought me misery.’’ The words leave her mouth in a hurry as she takes off into the direction of the great stairs. You stop her, your chest filled with dread and worry.

You beg her to reconsider.‘’Wait, slow down.’’ Not fit to marry the prince anymore? What does that mean?

She freezes the moment you lay a hand on her arm, and somehow, you already know what has happened to her when you look into her eyes. You drop your hand right away, stepping back to give her space, before tearing up silently too. Someone hurt her, in the worst way imaginable. ‘’He is the prince. The Queen’s son. How was I supposed to…’’ She whimpers. ‘’Say no?’’ The Queen’s Son.

And just like that, your world shatters. ‘’Oh my gods.’’ You mutter, at loss for anything else. 

Dyana clutches her bag, tearing up helplessly. You want to hug her so tightly, but you know, not every survivor wants to be touched by strangers, especially not so soon after. ‘’Did something happen?’’ You ask, your voice gently.

Dyana nods, furiously as she recalls what has happened to her. ‘’He touched me. I didn’t wanted it.’’ She is righteously furious and hurt.

You will find that pig. ‘’Who did?’’ You ask.

She shakes her head. ‘’You can’t stop him. He’s too powerful.’’ You become afraid. Was it all an act? Did Aemond play you?

You need to know who did this. ‘’Who did this, Dyana?’’

She sinks to the floor of the hall. ‘’A-aegon.’’ You are relieved, and suddenly it makes sense what happened to all the other girls he ‘’courted’’. He likely won their hearts, took advantage of that, and sent them away to hide it from the other girls. ‘’That filthy pig.’’ You groan, balling your hands into fists.

You look at Dyana, your face softening. You sink to the floors too, not giving a damn about your gown. ‘’We must talk, but we will do it in my room. Walls have ears here.’’ You help Dyana stand up, but give her the choice of accepting your hand. She seems grateful and accepts, still shaking on her legs when you bring her and her bags to your room.

‘’Dy, I’m so so sorry.’’ You tell her, after you have given her a cup of warm chocolate. She nods as if to say she appreciates the gesture and the kindness.

She speaks. ‘’It’s not your fault. You weren’t there, and I thought Aegon was being kind.’’ She is blaming herself. You are enraged. They always pretend they are.

You make a cup of hot chocolate for yourself too. ‘’He should face justice.’’ You say.

She nods, but is unsure how to achieve that on her own. ‘’How? He’s the prince.’’

You have a few ideas. But unfortunately, that idea must wait. Another worry has popped up in your head, the way a weed pops up in a garden. ‘’Dy, I’m afraid I have another very unpleasant question for you.’’ Dyana seems to know where you are going, and nods, closing her eyes, wiping at her eyes.

You gently ask this, knowing it wasn’t likely on her mind earlier. Or perhaps it was. But you need to know for certain. ‘’Did Aegon, use…a condom?’’

She thinks for a moment, before shaking her head, faster and faster before covering herself, hugging her knees. ‘’No. No, gods…’’

She turns to you, terrified. ‘’Do you think i’m…?’’

You remain calm, but let her feel whatever she needs to feel. She is allowed to feel afraid, furious, broken and sad. ‘’I think it is for the best that we find someone to trust. If you are, we must get help.’’ 

She nods, instantly. And she has a idea as to where to get help too. ‘’The Queen.’’ That is a horrible idea, in your honest opinion. She is the mother of Aegon. She won’t discipline him for anything, and will send Dyana away.

You let her idea down gently. She is Aegon’s mother. ‘’No. We must not go to her. She will only protect Aegon and send you away.’’ 

Dyana nods, but you can tell that that was her only idea for help. ‘’Who can possibly help me?’’

You sigh, deeply, praying you won’t regret this. ‘’I think I know someone.’’

The rooms of Lady Aemma are decorated with the stuff from the Vale. Beautiful statues and paintings show that Aemma misses her home very much. The colours blue and grey stand out very much as well, as most pillows and trinkets are in those colors.

Her ladyship is dressed for a day in, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, likely her work-out clothing. ‘’Lady Aemma.’’ You dip in a curtsy, and you pray to the gods she will help you but mostly Dyana.

She is shocked to see you here. Worried too. ‘’Y/n. Can I help you? You had a free day today, remember?’’ It is true. You and all the other girls have a day off, every week.

You take a breath, steadying yourself before speaking. ‘’I have a delicate situation.’’

You fill Aemma in on what happened to Dyana. Aemma’s expression changes to neutral, to worried, to upset, to fury. 

Dyana is horrified to see who you brought, but you did not know who else to bring.  She covers herself, trying to curtsy for Lady Aemma despite everything. Lady Aemma tells her with a wave of her hand to stop it, her face a reflection of Dyana’s sorrow.

Dyana breaks into another wave of tears. ‘’I-I know you must be so disappointed.’’ She says, to Lady Aemma.  ‘’I’m sorry, Lady Aemma. I tried to stop it.’’

Aemma comes a little closer, tears silently falling down her cheeks. Her voice is very gentle when speaking, her eyes sorrowful. ‘’Yes. In Aegon, but not in you, sweet child. Look at me.’’ Dyana hesitates, but obeys. You remain silent, knowing you did the right thing.

Aemma grabs Dyana’s hand, waiting for her to push her hands away. She doesn’t, so Aemma takes her hands into her own. ‘’You did nothing wrong. Men will always take advantage of good, kind women. You must not let this crime taint your kind heart.’’ She tells Dyana and you hear Aemma’s voice break as Dyana nods furiously. 

She seems so strong as nails and stubborn as iron. ‘’I won’t. I won’t let him win.’’ You are glad, she decided to stay.

She seems afraid of Aemma. As most girls are, that met Aemma. ‘’Are you not furious? I should be thrown out of the castle.’’ Dyana mutters, quietly. You know she is referring to the maiden rule. Before the selection started, you were forced to answer that question as well. 

Aemma sighs, but does not aim it at Dyana. It is aimed at the gods if anything.  ‘’Aegon should be thrown out of the castle, Dyana. They broke the rules with him bothering you, we will break a few rules now too.’’ You wonder who the they are who she refers to so angrily. 

Aemma continues, her disgust getting the overhand. ‘’The rule that only maidens can vouch for the Prince’s hand is such ancient bullshit.’’ 

You both gasp at her language , but you agree. ‘’Lady Aemma.’’ Dyana mutters, slightly speechless, but delighted.

The lady of the vale chuckles, grinning. ‘’You think Jacaerys is a virgin? Or Aemond or Aegon for that matter? They fucked. It is unfair to disqualify girls when their sheets see more activity than a laundry service.’’ That makes both of you chuckle, and Aemma joins in, grinning as well.

She nods to herself before getting up. ‘’Good. I brought supplies. I will make moontea for you, you can drink it.’’ She shows Dyana a bag with supplies and goes to work in your kitchen. You remain by Dyana’s side when Aemma has left.

Dyana tears up one final time, before reaching out and embraces you, whimpering in your coat. ‘’Thank you so much, Y/n. You might have saved my life.’’ Dyana is given moontea, and goes to sleep in your rooms after that. Aegon can’t find her here anyway.

You shared your room with a girl who was disqualified too, earlier. You quietly wonder if you should have done more for her as well.

You and Aemma leave Dyana be, sleeping peacefully. You turn to Aemma. ‘’I know you told me I shouldn’t be so kind…’’ 

Aemma suddenly grabs you by your shoulders, shaking her head when tears roll down her cheeks. She laughs, a little emotional. ‘’Oh. You shouldn’t listen to what I say about friendship. I have no friends. I don’t know anything about it.’’ She laughs, but there is a sad truth there. You pity her.

You nod, silently becoming sorrowful too. ‘’So you will keep Dyana’s secret?’’ You ask, just to be certain.

Aemma does not need a moment to think. She will. You see it in her eyes. She too had her own monster who committed crimes against her. ‘’Yes, I will. Unfortunately, I lost all my privilege with the king. I can’t make him punish that pig, sadly.’’ She attempts to leave, wiping at her eyes quickly so the outside world can’t tell how she cried.

You call her back. ‘’Lady Arryn-’’

‘’Yes, Lady Y/n?’’ She asks, turning around.

You smile at her. ‘’You do have one friend. Should you wish it.’’

She clears her throat, clearly touched. ‘’Thank you, Y/n.’’

Since Dyana is resting in your rooms, you can’t go there to read. And it is a good excuse to visit the royal library. The bookshelves are tall as the ceiling, the tables made of special imported wood from the north and the books are centuries old. You are looking for books on Nymeria, your comfort subject for when you are upset. 

You see a red leather bound book with her name on the spine, but it is too far above on the cell for you to reach it. You jump up and down in an attempt to get it.

A familiar voice calls out to you, startling you. ‘’Want me to grab it for you?’’ You quickly turn around, bumping into the bookshelf and causing several books to fall down. You gawk at him. 

Yet you can’t stop your smile from spreading ever wider. ‘’Aemond!’ He smiles shyly at you when putting the books back on their spot. You mutter when he goes to work. ‘’I mean, your highness, I mean hello. I mean…" You dip into a curtsy. 

He chuckles. ‘’It’s quite alright. But that does not answer my question.’’ You try to convince yourself that he should not bother, but you really want to read that stubborn book.

You stare at the book you so eagerly want to read. ‘’Yes, please.’’ You say, instead of lying.

Aemond grabs the book easily, reaching much higher than you ever could. He hands you the book.‘’Thank you so much.’’ You mutter.

He takes in the book, reading the title. ‘’It’s a good one, but I think you’ll like this one better, personally.’’ He grabs another much lower positioned book, also about Nymeria, called 10,000 ships. ‘’That book covers Nymeria better. I think the book you are holding is very Valyrian based.’’ You look at the subtitles and nod. Fire and blood, it’s called. The motto of the Targaryens, and very obviously a hint that the book won’t be fairly written.

He seems to know his history. You quickly read the first few pages and see her being compared to a witch, an escort lady and a traitor in one sentence. ‘’Ew.’’ You comment, dryly, before slamming it shut.

Aemond nods, solemnly. ‘’My sentiments too, when I read it. It’s filled with slanders and lies of her enemies.’’ You let him put the first book back.

You notice he smells very nice. Like coffee and cigarettes. ‘’Thank you, for your recommendation.’’ You say and you mean it. He takes a book with him as well, about Oryn.

Prince Aemond does not mind helping you. ‘’No problem, just happy to help.’’ Prince Aemond says, his voice a bit gentler than usual. He gestures to the gate that leads to the exclusively royal part of the library. ‘’You are welcome to join the royal parts of the library. We have better lighting and comfortable chairs.’’ 

You aren’t sure. Aemma said that those parts are off limits. ‘’Won’t I get in trouble?’’ You would hate to be thrown out over something minor like this. But you really want to follow Aemond too.

Aemond pretends to think before laughing. ‘’No. You are with me. You won’t be in trouble.’’

He escorts you to the royal parts of the private library. There is indeed better lighting, and way more comfortable chairs. You and Aemond sit down on a couch covered in red and black velvet before each picking up your book. You notice you read the same line over and over again, bored and tired, not having the concentration to read as your eyes keep glancing at Aemond. He peacefully reads his book, lost in another world.

Eventually, Aemond goes to get a snack and you remain alone. You have a lot on your mind and you try to put things in perspective. Aemma seems nicer now, and you are very thankful for her discretion and her kindness she showed you both. Perhaps there is more to her story than you thought. Dyana seems to be fine now, but you must keep an eye on her and remain her friend. And Aegon? If you see him again, you likely strangle him on the spot. 

Finally, Aemond returns with a plate of cookies, in the middle of it all stands one lonely chocolate cupcake, the one you ate at the ball. ‘’How did you know?’’ You ask, delighted as he hands you the cupcake.

He hides a blush. ‘’I…I asked. I hope that is alright?’’ He asked. For you. You raise a brow. Aemond blushes, further. ‘’I saw you eating one, at the ball. You liked it very much, you even licked off your fingers.’’ He rambles, a little nervous. ‘’I’m sorry, that must have been so creepy of me-’’ You silence him, grinning. 

You quickly swallow the food you had in your mouth to answer him. ‘’Why would it be? I love cupcakes.’’ You say. These taste even better than Jace’s.

He seems very pleased when you eat the cupcakes, not giving a damn about manners or decorum when you lick off your fingers. ‘’I’m glad.’’ He sinks back to the couch, and briefly your shoulders touch. He quickly takes a bit of distance. 

You feel a yawn coming up. Aemond whistles, impressed by the size of it. It is your turn to blush but his chuckle reveals he was just joking.  ‘’It was a …intense day.’’ That is all you will say on it.

You see worry grow in his eyes as he sits up straighter, clearly listening to you, eager for you to share your worries.  ‘’A girl wanted to quit the selection.’’ You tell him, fiddling with your hair.

He nods, as if understanding why someone would want to do that. ‘’How do you feel about that?’’ He must think you are dumb for talking her out of it.

You tell him, anyway. You don’t want to lie to him. You rather have him think you are dumb, than that he thinks you are a liar. ‘’I talked her out of it. Jacaerys seems very taken with her.’’ You recall how they danced and laughed. Before that pig ruined it all.

Aemond chooses his words carefully. ‘’I don’t understand something. You are here for Jace. Shouldn’t you, be…I don’t know, glad that she leaves?’’ You would never be glad if anyone left that way. But you can’t tell Dyana’s secret.

You hope he understands that. ‘’Not the way she left, Aemond.’’ That way was horrible. You sit up straighter, looking at the chocolate on your fingers.‘’I will fight but I will fight fair.’’

Aemond’s pupils seem to dance like stars when you look into them. He whispers a single word. ‘’Admirably.’’ You are unsure if he talks about your strategy or you.

You are reminded of your duties and of Jace, keeping your distance from the prince. ‘’Thank you.’’ A shiver runs down your spine, causing you to flinch.

The prince notices, a frown growing on his beautiful face. ‘’You’re cold.’’ 

You laugh, rambling a bit.‘’I usually am. Such a stupid habit from-’’ he silences you by taking his leather jacket off and carefully putting it over your shoulders. You smell his scent, and feel the warmth of his body over yours. You blush, unintended. ‘’O.’’

He grins to himself. ‘’Better. I don’t like you shivering.’’ You chuckle.  Aemond picks his book back up, and you look over his shoulder reading with him. But it has been a long day, and your eyes start to close slowly. You fall asleep, eventually, snoozing peacefully agains Prince Aemond. 

After a half an hour, dreaming about Dornish statues and one-eyed princes,  you awake. You notice Aemond smiling at you, still with his nose stuck in a book. ‘’Good evening, sleepy beauty.’’ You gawk, quickly adjusting your messy hair and your gown. You blush too, he calls you beauty.

You feel so embarrassed. He must think you are lazy.‘’I must have drifted off.’’ You mutter.

But he does not seem to mind. He puts the book away, on the table.‘’Yes, but it is fine. I was with you the whole time.’’ He reassures you. ‘’I would not leave you to sleep alone.’’ He is such a gentleman. 

You can’t fathom how he is related to that pig. ‘’I don’t understand how you are related to your brother.’’ He would have taken advantage of you.

The prince surprises you with his answer. ‘’I sometimes don’t either.’’ He reveals, his voice very distant.

You think for a while, taking in Aemond’s lucious glamorous Valyrian locks. ‘’I want to teach him a lesson.’’ You tell him.

Aemond leans in a little closer, intrigued. ‘’O?’’

You smile back, enjoying the way you become so brave and fearless when you are with him. ‘’But I need your help.’’

Aemond is a true gentleman, providing you what you need. He has access to the royal rooms, and after telling him that you suspect that Aegon is behind a lot of girls leaving, he does not hesitate to help you at all. You are sitting in your rooms, waiting for Aemond to enter through the door with the supplies for your revenge plan. 

Tomorrow, several foreign ambassadors from all over the kingdom will visit. A ball will be held, and time with the prince is on the agenda. But you have a different reason to be excited. 

There is a soft knock on your window. Confused, you open it and look into Aemond’s face. In his hands he holds a plastic bag. Your room is on the second floor. You notice there is a small balcony and he likely have climbed all the way from his rooms to yours. ‘’May I come in?’’ He asks, politely. You are shocked for a few moments, before letting him.

He delivers you Aegon’s favorite shampoo bottle, and a few bottles of pink paint. ‘’Did anyone question you?’’ You wonder, as he is finished taking the stuff out of the bag. He shakes his head. 

He puts the shampoo bottle on the ground, putting the paint next to it. They are small little squeezable bottles of neon pink glitter paint. Perfect. ‘’No. Aegon’s bathroom is unlocked, so I had no trouble sneaking in. The paint I took from my mother’s room. She likes painting from time to time.’’ Well, you are shocked. The Queen has hobby’s. Who knew?

He rambles on, excitedly to help you with this plan. ‘’I went with the Neon pink unicorn color.’’ He adds with a cheeky grin. You like it when he talks with you. You like it when he becomes comfortable enough to drop his shields and walls.

That is perfect. The ball takes place at night, so if Aegon has neon hair it would be even more funny. ‘’My hero,’’ You declare before grabbing the shampoo bottle, filling it with the pink glitter paint. ‘’I hope Aegon likes pink.’’ Aemond watches you work, as a loyal huntsman seeing his evil queen prepare a deadly poison. Except this won’t kill Aegon.

Your phone buzzes and you look at the screen. Your heart drops several floors. Dyana is on her way.

You curse, quickly hiding the bottles. ‘’Ehm, a friend of mine is coming over. Can you perhaps hide under my bed for a while?’’ You ask, a stunned Aemond. If Lady Aemma was here, she would scream. You, asking a royal to lay under your bed? You, having a man in your rooms? You plotting revenge on the prince? All of this is so unbecoming, but if it is unbecoming, why do you feel so safe with Aemond near you?

Aemond seems fine with that, sinking to his knees before laying down on the floor and rolling under your bed, easily. You thank him silently and wait for Dyana to show up.

She comes mere moments later, causing you to flinch. She smiles brightly, seeming much happier and more upbeat. She brought a present as well, a basket filled with shampoo and soap bars, bubbles and other delicious goods wrapped with a large pink bow and a thank you note attached. She presents it happily to you, and your heart melts when she hugs you tightly. 

Aemond is still present, so you must be careful not mentioning what happened to Dyana. ‘’I’m so thankful for what you did for me, Y/n.’’ Dyana speaks. She wipes at her eyes, laughing. ‘’Happy tears, this time.’’ She tells you. ‘’Lady Aemma arranged a therapist for me, I can see her for an hour on my free day. We took up creative therapy, and I learn painting.’’ She tells you excitedly. ‘’Without you, I would have given up. Thank you so much, Y/n.’’ 

‘’You’re welcome, Dy. Everyone would have done the same.’’

Her eyes become very serious and hollow. ‘’No, Y/N. You are the only one, I think. You are kind, you deserve the throne.’’ She tells you. ‘’I am your ally, should you wish so.’’ You feel a bit uncomfortable with that knowledge. Did no one help her aside from you? And why does she being your ally feel as if you take advantage of her too?

You speak your heart. ‘’Dyana, I don’t want you to be my ally. You are not indebted to me. I do would love to become my friend?’’ You suggest. ‘’The basket was not needed, but it is much appreciated. I love bubble baths.’’ You let out a soft giggle.

Dyana grins and comes closer to your bed, sitting down on it too. Your eyes widen in slight horror. ‘’Of course!’’ She sniffs a few times, taking in Aemond’s scent who is likely freaking out right under her. ‘’Hm. Have you been smoking?’’ She wonders but does not sound judgemental.

‘’No.’’ You say.

She frowns. ‘’Weird. I smell cigarettes.’’ She tries to look under the bed, and you quickly call her attention back by clearing your throat.

You must lie quickly. ‘’Uhm, yes. My former roommate smoked.’’ She nods, getting up and leaves after that, thanking and hugging you again. 

Dyana leaves shortly after that and Aemond comes out of hiding.

‘’It was worse than I thought.’’ He speaks when he has cleaned the dust from his hands. ‘’He…He took advantage of her, didn’t he? Of that poor sweet girl that was here just now. That is why you want to teach him a lesson.’’ He eyes the gift basket.  That is very much true. He is quite observant.

You nod. ‘’Yes, he did.’’

He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. ‘’I can’t place her voice, so no worries. Even if I do figure out who it is, I will keep her secret. I just can’t stand that pig…’’ His voice trails off. You bring out the bottle of shampoo and hand it to him, your fingers briefly brushing. 

He accepts the bottle, putting it in his bag. Aemond seems as if he wants to say something but decides it's for the best if he just leaves.  And when he does, he takes a piece of your heart with him.

The ball is in full swing when you and the other selected arrive. Only 20 girls remain, including you, Baela, Floris, and Dyana. Most girls greet the royals first, and you do the same. Your attention is drawn to the well dressed prince Aemond, who hovers around by the buffet, with a plate with two chocolate cupcakes. You wish to run to him, to ask him who he is reservering those treats for. 

A sudden pain in your side reveals someone has grabbed you. You turn your head, afraid of looking into the face of a furious Aegon. Instead it is Floris, with her catlike eyeliner and dark golden gown. ‘’I’m so glad you have decided to change the positions.’’

‘’Huh?’’ You mutter, a little stupid. 

Floris chuckles. ‘’Oh, it is obvious. The entire world sees.’’ You wonder what that is. Prince Aegon is finally entering the room too, thunder written across his face.

‘’Oh my gods…’’ Lady Baela murmurs. You stifle a laugh, as you see prince Aegon with bright pink glittery dough in his hair that makes it seem like he had a duel with a toddler who’s only weapon was clay.

You chuckle, lightly before grinning at Dyana who lights up right in front of you. A hand is wrapped around yours, and you notice that Prince Jacaerys has joined you. ‘’May I have this dance?’’ You nod, complying.

Aemond watches as you two attend the dance floor, his heart clearly broken as he puts the cupcakes back with a sad grin. You don’t see him at the ball anymore after that. You become more and more aware of your feelings for Aemond and Jace, and what you feel for Jace is friendship. Jace twirls you around before speaking. ‘’You want to go after him, don’t you?’’ He asks, his voice soft and slightly heartbroken as you keep eying the doors, waiting for Aemond to come back.

Yes you would. ‘’I can’t. I’m yours.’’ You speak.

That is a lie and you know it. He shakes his head, his brown short hair shaking.  ‘’You are your own. I can’t protect you from the rules, but I can’t stand to see you miserable either, Y/N. You and Aemond belong together.’’ He says.

You still doubt it. ‘’But the rules. I’ll be thrown out.’’ You don’t care about being thrown out. You care about Aemond not answering these feelings.

He sighs, trying to get you to go after Aemond. ‘’Perhaps Aemond can find a loophole. He is very clever.’’ Perhaps. Perhaps he can.

Your feet take off running, to where Aemond disappeared to. Your heart is finally free and open. ‘’Aemond?’’ But you can’t find him. You do find a letter addressed to you, and you watch through the window as a motorcycle leaves the castle gates, and your heart shatters into a thousand pieces. You read the letter before running downstairs, running out in the rain in your ballgown, after the motorcycle. But he is long gone, and you can only cry.

Y/n

I’m leaving the castle until the end of the selection, perhaps after that.

I’ve come to care for you, and my sense of duty has been suffering because of you. I thought I knew for certain that I was a man of priorities and morals, but you make me want to break and risk it all for you. 

You are my nephew’s selected, and I can’t watch how he courts and throws away girls left and right, for he does not deserve a single one of you. He does not deserve the kingdoms, he does not even deserve to hold your hand, if you ask me. 

I want you, but I know you won’t choose me. No one ever does. I will come back, perhaps. Perhaps not. 

The media will call you a whore if you were to pursue me, and no foreign ambassador would ever take you seriously. There will be rumors if our relationship started during the selection, and people will mock every child we will have as a bastard. I can’t put you through any of that, as what the media writes about me, already kills me. I can’t stand to watch you become a bitter and resentful woman, and to see that pure light inside your soul die.

I hope these foolish one-sided feelings of mine go away over time, and I hope you can find the strength to forgive me for writing you this letter, and not speaking it to your face. 

I love you, and because of that, I have to let you go.

-Prince Aemond Targaryen.

A/n

Thank you for reading. Part 3 will be the final part!:))

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