#did I say that I love these fics so much already?

[luveline]

Hi Jade!! I love your writing so much! you wrote a few fics of postprison!reid with kinda shy!reader like the one where she faints and I loved that dynamic and that Reid, do you think you could write some more? pls pls pls <3333333

cw non-consensual drug use /reader is spiked 

Spencer is quite gorgeous. He has a great smile, soft and a little shy without teeth, exuberantly bright like a commercial with teeth. He’s smiling like he can read your mind now, fishing for your hand, and taking it into both of his. Your pinky in one hand and your index the other, he wriggles your hand back and forth and laughs softly. “You don’t handle inebriation well.” 

“What?” you ask, startled. You can’t believe he’s touching you like this, casual, like he’s your boyfriend. Your hot boyfriend.

“You think I’m hot?” 

You squint at him. “What?” you ask. 

He covers your hand gently with both of his. “Nevermind. Do you want something to eat now?” 

“No.” You’ll throw up. Chunks, probably, your breakfast. And it wasn’t even a healthy breakfast. It was waffles and whipped cream and then a donut on the way to the office, Spencer will be able to tell, he’s too smart, he’s too everything. 

“I’m not that smart,” he says kindly. 

That’s a straight up lie. 

He laughs heartily, at odds with his quiet talking, and you’re so confused because it’s like he’s reading your mind? Can he read your mind? There’s so much stuff about yourself you don’t want him to know, your chest hurts thinking about it, you don’t want to tell him anything—

“I think I’ll go find you a hot chocolate,” Spencer says, the sleeve of his shirt falling down unbuttoned to his wrist as he stands. He pushes it back up. He is surprisingly underdressed today and you’ve no idea why. “Does that sound nice?” 

“I don’t think you should leave.” 

“I don’t want you to tell me stuff you don’t want to tell me,” he says. 

“But if you leave I’ll be by myself.” You sound strange to your ears. Crackly, like a garden fire.

Spencer perches himself on the hospital bed next to you. You’re sitting cross-cross on the tight white and blue sheets, waiting for something? Something was supposed to happen, you know that. A doctor was going to take your blood. You look down at the crook of your elbow to find they already have, a cotton pad medical-taped to the skin. 

“I’m not going anywhere if you don’t want me to go,” he says, taking your arm into his hands with the same care he’d shown your fingers. He lifts the corner of the tape and begins to pull it away from the direction it had been stuck in, stretching it, and removing it from you without any pain. 

“Where did you learn that?” you ask. 

Spencer holds your arm in his hand now the cotton ball is done. “Learn what?” 

You’re not interested in asking him again. Weirdly, your throat feels dry, but you won’t tell him because he’ll offer hot chocolate again and you don’t want him to go. 

“Hey,” he says, “not going anywhere until it wears off. Not if you need me.” 

How does he always know what to say? 

“You know, why don’t you get into bed and lay down for a little bit? You must be tired, sitting up. It’s so late.” His voice is a sheet of silk. 

“I thought we were going home?” you ask. 

“We can’t, bub,” —that’s a new one— “not for now. But we will tonight, I promise.” 

“Why not now?” 

He smiles sadly. “‘Cos you’re coming down, Y/N.” 

You frown. “Oh.” 

“I know.” Spencer wraps and arm around your back. “But you’re not alone.” He ducks in until your faces are almost touching. “You know? It’ll go away soon.” 

You don’t know why you say it, but you say, “You’re so nice to me. Even when you’re scary.” 

“Am I scary?” he murmurs. 

You look at him long and hard, feeling the warm rub of his thumb as he smooths a short line into your back. Spencer is intimidating, maybe, because you hadn’t known him when he got out of prison, and he's pretty like a model, or a movie star. But he isn’t scary. That’s not the right word. 

“No,” you say. “I guess not.” You pause. “I feel weird.” 

He doesn’t laugh like you, just hugs you tighter. “It’ll get better.” 

[dfortrafalgar]

would you be interested in a more Platonic type fic? Like being good friends with Robin?

alternatively if it has to be romantic: Law being forced on a disaster of a date only to meet a super helpful (comic) bookshop employee and she starts seeming cute when he finds out she has similar interests? (Boy probably went into cardiac arrest at first when someone caught him not being broody)

hope this isn’t too much!

and you’re doing awesome!

thank you so much for your request, anon!!!! im actually going to use both of your ideas, but i started with the Law one because that hit seriously close to home. ive been on some absolute TRAVESTIES of dates in the past, and i needed to write law suffering through a similar fate or i'd die!!!!! I hope you enjoy, and pretty soon I'll post your platonic Robin request as well! I love writing platonic stories just as much as romantic ones <3

An Out.

Law x Fem Reader

Law made the mistake of letting his friends talk him into a first date… and now he desperately needs an out. Fast.

Warnings: an absolute disaster of a first date for our wonderful nerdy man. modern au, implied college setting, some mild slight suggestive language but nothing more than that

Trafalgar Law tried in vain to recount the series of events that led up to this very moment.

There was the dusty apartment floor discussion about how the med-student hadn’t gotten laid yet, which was followed by a raunchy comment about a girl in someone’s class, it was revealed that this girl was single (‘and ready to mingle’), and her number was forcibly input into Law’s phone.

For the week that followed, he was inundated with flirty texts from this girl he had never met in person.  He was forced to send her a picture of himself, mostly to get her to stop blowing up his texts every hour, and that was the next mistake in the line-up of unfortunate events.

Turned out she had a thing for facial hair.

Then, instead of getting pestered with general flirty messages, it was general flirty messages that were ramped up to a nine.  ‘I’d rip your clothes off if you give me the opportunity,’ kind of nine.

Law knew he was a virgin, but at least he wasn’t this desperate, nor did he have any inclination to be.  If anything, the texts he received from this stranger were making him want sex even less.

And yet… he was still pushed into this.

A date around downtown with this girl.  She clung to his arm, tried to loop her fingers into his, and yet had absolutely no interest in anything he had to say.  At all.

First red flag: she mentioned her ex.  Three times.  In four minutes.  Everything was about what he did wrong to upset her, no self-awareness to be found.  Second red flag: the clinginess.  Law hated public affection, but any attempts to urge her to give him space resulted in a childish pout and her arms caged around his, almost pulling him to the ground.  Third red flag: she couldn’t give two shits about Law, in any sense of the word.  She wouldn’t stop talking about herself.  Her looks, her clothes, her favorite music, her favorite shows to binge watch, her distaste for the area of the city they were in, her distaste for the lunch Law had [regretfully] paid for, her distaste for the speckled jeans he decided to wear…

He could feel the premature wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows the longer the date went on.  He was starting to wonder if he’d have to throw out the shirt he was wearing later.  It already reeked of the too-strong, powdery-scented perfume she bathed herself in.

“Where do you wanna go?” she suddenly asked, still tugging on his arm.

“I kinda want to stop by the bookstore before we leave,” he suggested, his feet already carrying him, and by extension, her, along the sidewalk to a small bookshop that had just recently opened.

“The bookstore?  What kinda guy brings a girl to a bookstore on a first date?!” she demanded, showing off yet another childish pout.  It wasn’t a good look on her.

‘A guy who knows this girl’s not getting a second date,’ he wished he could say.  Instead, all the snarky remarks stayed locked inside his weary brain, bouncing around like a caged lion desperate to escape.

The girl didn’t make any motions to ditch him to his nerdy reprieve, and instead followed on his heels as he pulled open the bookshop’s door, the familiar, calming scent of new books, fresh paper, and ink filling his nose.

“It smells gross in here,” the girl huffed.

Aaaand there went Law’s fleeting moment of peace.  Out the window.  Down fifteen stories and splattered on the pavement.  He needed to violently restrain the eyeroll that begged to appear.  His ocular nerves ached to be a dick in the pettiest way possible.  He inwardly hoped that by dragging this girl to the most unassuming bookshop would encourage her to leave, call a friend or get a cab to take her back to her home, but alas, she stayed glued to Law’s side like a lost dog.

She followed behind him as he blindly perused shelves of new and pre-owned books, Law’s feet subconsciously guiding him to the back of the store where he knew the comic books would be located.

If anything would turn this girl off for good, it had to be his love for all things superhero.  His comic book collection would dry her up like a dessert in a drought.  Or at least, it fucking better.

His eyes lit up as he approached the expansive comic shelf, immediately spotting the latest print of Sora: Warrior of the Sea- Volume 10.  It had finally been officially localized, and he had been saving some of his spending money for this very moment.  He eagerly grabbed the book from the shelf, thumbing through the pages.

“How old even are you?” jeered the girl by his side.  “Comic books are, like, little kid shit.”

“I’m five years old,” barked Law, refusing to look toward her as he continued to analyze the pages of his favorite series.

To the average onlooker, they both probably looked like complete jackasses towards one another.  And while Law was at least brave enough to admit that his behavior was certainly petty, he felt like he was warranted a Get Out Of Jerk Free card for all the painful hours of suffering through this atomic catastrophe of a date had put him through.

“Whatever, I’m going to find a bathroom,” the girl finally groaned, releasing his arm and trudging through the aisles of books toward the checkout counter to ask an employee where the bathrooms were located.

Law watched her go out of his peripheral vision, refusing to exhale a sigh of profound relief until she was completely out of his line of sight.  With shoulders that finally relaxed, free from the overbearing tension, he turned his focus back to the comic in his hands, continuing to thumb through the colorful pages of artwork.  He flipped the book around to examine the price, smiling at how reasonable it was.  He filled his arms with a few other comics from a series he had been meaning to pick up, and retreated toward the cash registers to buy his books.  The sooner he got his treat for this ordeal, the sooner he could get out of here, call this girl a taxi home, and spend the rest of his life as a willingly single comic book mega-nerd.

But reality wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

Not when the girl sitting behind the register thumbing through another copy of Sora Volume 10 was an absolute bombshell.

When she looked up at Law, her eyes quickly went wide.  She placed the book under the register counter and eagerly leaned forward, her hands supporting her over the counter.  “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.

Law cocked an eyebrow, confused.  “Yeah, why?”

“That girl you’re with is making you miserable.  You walked through the door looking like you wanted someone to grant you a mercy killing,” she huffed.  Her eyes were clearly concerned.  “Are you dating her?”

Law felt his guard dropping without even realizing it the longer he was in the presence of this cashier.  “My friends set me up on a date with her, but I’m having the absolute worst time of my life.”

The new girl’s own eyebrows angled downward in concern.  “Do you want an out?”

“A what?”

“An out,” she repeated.  “An excuse to get her to leave you alone.”  Time was running out.  At any moment, she could leave the bathroom.

Law frantically looked back and forth between the cashier and the small, short hallway that led to the single restroom.  With pleading, golden eyes, he silently mumbled, “Yes, please.”

The cashier kept her eyes on the bathroom door as she began unloading Law’s hands, spreading his books out on the counter to make it look like she was busy ringing out his purchase.  Law watched with an analytical gaze as she fumbled with his items, clearly buying time until the bathroom door opened.

He didn’t have time to ask what she was plotting.

The second the door cracked open, the man’s shirt collar was violently clenched in the cashier’s hands as she pulled him over the counter, smushing her lips into his.  Law’s fingers flexed in thin air as he froze, brain completely fried as he was frozen in this sudden kiss.

His first kiss.

“What the fuck?!” the girl screeched, exiting the bathroom in a frenzy as she booked it toward the heated exchange happening over the cash register.

The new girl pulled herself away from Law’s face, but only enough where she could display her best rendition of a weary, tired war-torn wife waiting on a cliffside for her husband to return.  “Baby, please just take me back!  My life isn’t complete without you!”  Her voice was cracking as she fake-wailed, her grip on Law’s shirt never faltering, not even once.  The few customers who also occupied the store turned to stare at the commotion, frazzled and befuddled.  “Nothing in life is as good as it was with you!  I’m in shambles!  You were the best sex I’ve ever had!”

It took a few moments for Law to catch on to the ruse.  As soon as he put the puzzle pieces together in his mind, however, he was grabbing the wrists of the cashier and bringing his lips back to hers, closing his eyes and trailing his arms up to grasp her face.  Completely disregarding the fact that they were still separated by the heavy check-out counter between their torsos.

“You were dating someone?!” snapped the original girl.  “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Law pulled away from the cashier’s lips, his own skin immediately feeling fifteen degrees colder from the loss of her contact.  “I wasn’t.  Until now.”

The new girl put her arm around Law’s shoulders from across the check-out counter, her deft fingers caressing his skin through his shirt.  “I’m sorry, but I’m taking him back, I can’t stand to be without him any longer!  The sight of him with another woman…” she made a show of clenching her chest, “makes me sick!”  She was damn good at this, in a way that almost made Law concerned.  The fact that she was pulling all of this out of nowhere, and the fact that her first course of action was this drastic, made Law’s heart flutter in his chest.

“Ugh, whatever.  This place sucks ass anyway.  I’m going home.”  She finally shouldered her bag and marched out of the shop, her feet stomping across the hardwood floor until the sound of the front door slamming closed finally made the cashier release her arm from Law’s shoulders.

And once again, the man was feeling oddly cold without the contact.  He glanced at her as she started ringing up his items for real.  “You’re… a good actor,” he blurted.

The girl hid her face in her arm with shame, an awkward laugh bubbling from her throat.  “I’m so sorry, I was trying to think of what to do to help you but when the door opened I panicked.”  Her eyes were focused on her work.  “I’ve been on some absolutely awful dates myself, so I understand.  Sometimes I’ve wished I could have Prince Charming swoop me out of the movie theater where a guy made fun of me for my interests the entire run-time.”

His jaw went slack.  “Are you serious?”

“Deadass,” she replied, quick as a whip.  “Insisted on holding my hand the entire time.  I think he was convinced that I had taken him to see a horror movie because I wanted to act scared in front of him, but his hand was so clammy and sticky the whole time.  And not in the endearing ‘Aww he’s shy!’ kind of way.”

Law wished at that moment that he had more charisma.  He was sure one of his friends would be able to pull a witty, flirty quip from their asses like it was nothing, but Law’s personal dictionary of flattery was nonexistent as it was.  He balked while he listened to the cashier who just took his breath away lamenting about her own poor experiences with dating, and he was sure that her example in this moment was only one of many.  Instead of continuing the conversation, his mind blanked.  He stated, more like whispered, “That was my first kiss.”

The girl’s hands stopped scanning his books halfway through.  Her wide eyes darted up to Law’s, her jaw slack.  “It… It was?”

“Yeah.”

Her hands flew to cover her mouth, eyes wide with shock.  “Oh my god… oh my god, I’m so sorry!”  She dropped her head onto the counter, covering her despair with both of her arms now.  “First kisses are supposed to be special and I just took your’s away from you…”

Law shocked himself by smiling at the weary display in front of him.  “If it makes you feel any better, that was far better than the date I was on.  But I’m sure you already knew that.”

She picked her head up, a trembling hand grabbing one of his last books to scan.  Her eyes nervously darted back and forth as she silently worked, once in a while sucking her bottom lip in with her teeth before releasing the flesh.  She was clearly lost in an intense inner turmoil.

“It’s really alright,” Law muttered, now growing shy himself.  He was just now realizing the gravity of what had happened… and how truly adorable this girl was.

She tapped a few buttons on her cash register before finally making eye contact with him again.  “You are a pretty good kisser… you’re really sure you’ve never done that before?”

He affirmatively shook his head.  “Never.  I’ve never been… popular with the dating scene,” he muttered.  “Hence this awful set-up date.”

The cashier’s eyes went wide again momentarily.  “That’s kind of surprising to me… I would think someone like you would get any girl you wanted.”

Law backpedaled.  “What does that mean?”

She pulled his total up on the small screen that faced him.  She was turning away from him as if to hide her face, her entire expression teeming with a child-like embarrassment.  “Well, you’re crazy hot, for starters.  And you like Sora, clearly.”

Law felt a smirk emerge on his lips.  “Is Sora one of your only qualifiers for a decent partner?”  He began to rekindle some of the confidence he had lost throughout the day.  The longer he spent in this girl’s presence, the more he felt the tension in his body leaving.

She grinned, the stress in her shoulders from her own actions finally releasing.  “Only guys with fluffy black hair and golden eyes that read Sora, if you want my honest answer.”

Now this was flirting.  Law had to admit, he was pretty pleased with this sudden turn of events.  The atmosphere this girl radiated was immensely calming, allowing him to chip through his reinforced walls just enough to feel like a somewhat normal person.  He started to wonder if she could break through his barriers even more.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, taking out his credit card and swiping it through the machine to finally cash out his order.

The girl excitedly revealed her name.  “And your’s?”

“Trafalgar Law,” he replied.  “I go to North Blue University for med school in the next town over.”

“No shit, so do I!  I’m getting a worker's license there,” she added, her expression shifting from one of moderate happiness to one of excitement.  “I doubt we’ve had any of the same classes, but we should hang out sometime!  Get coffee, maybe talk about Sora…”  Her voice trailed off, her eyes growing soft.  “Unless you’ve been completely turned off to dating after what you’ve clearly just been through.”

Law took a few moments to ponder over her words, watching as the receipts for his purchase slowly emerged from the thermal printer.  “I think I can make an exception this time.”

The smile that broke out on the girl’s face may as well have blinded him.  She was truly dazzling, even in her ratty-looking employee apron and an oversized T-shirt accounting for her work attire.

Law placed his new assortment of books into his own bag, the girl snatching his receipts from the printer and stashing one of the copies in the drawer below the counter.  When he looked back up, she was holding out his second receipt, folded in half.  She gave him a fond smile when he took it.

“I hope you’re able to relax later today, and enjoy your books!” she called, waving to Law as he exited the store.

Once outside again, the air felt clearer now that he was alone.  The day was still young, hardly a cloud in the sky and a pleasant breeze coasting through the city.  He looped his bag over his shoulder and opened the receipt, peering at what was written on the backside.

Call me for Sora… and for just me ;) <3 1125-354-9854

[pomefioredove]

Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…

So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse

Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good

Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!

ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3

summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it

Jamil Viper

Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.

That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.

Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.

He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.

But that sense of unease doesn't go away.

He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.

And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.

"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."

You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.

"Thank you," you mumble.

You can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.

"I'm fine,"

Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.

"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.

"I've... had a rough day,"

Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"

He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.

"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"

It.

What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.

"Did something happen?"

You hesitate.

"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"

Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.

He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.

But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.

"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."

He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.

He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.

"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"

Unlike me, he thinks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"

Like me.

You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.

A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Thank you, Jamil,"

He hugs back. "Of course,"

Ruggie Bucchi

It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.

You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.

Ruggie included.

He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.

He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.

And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.

Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?

He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.

Sigh.

"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"

"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."

The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.

"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.

"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"

You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.

You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"

"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."

The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"

"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"

Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.

"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"

"Did you find it?"

"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"

You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.

After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"

"What?"

"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"

You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.

Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"

"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"

"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"

"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"

You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.

And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He struggles to respond for a moment.

"That's rough,"

Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.

"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."

"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."

He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"

The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.

"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.

Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...

But that didn't bother him. Not at all.

As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.

That plan lasts about five hours.

"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"

That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.

And it's getting closer.

"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."

Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.

"I'm trying,"

This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.

"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"

Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.

He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.

"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."

"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"

This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.

You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"

"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"

"This is-"

"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.

"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"

Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"

"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?

"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.

"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"

"Your... offer...?"

Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"

"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"

He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."

Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.

"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."

Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"

"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."

"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.

As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"

"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"

"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"

Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.

"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"

You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"

He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"

Floyd Leech

Of course, he can tell something's up right away.

Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.

His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?

Now this catches his attention.

"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.

"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."

"But you're not,"

"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"

Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.

"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"

"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"

Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.

"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"

"Why?"

There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.

"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"

He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"

"FLOYD!"

He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.

When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.

"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."

You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"

"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.

Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"

"Are they ill?"

You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"

"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"

Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"

"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.

Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"

Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"

You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"

"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."

"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.

His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"

His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"

"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"

"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"

His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.

You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"

"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"

You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"

Rollo Flamme

Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.

The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.

The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?

They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.

He loathed being talked down to.

Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.

And now you're just quiet.

"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug.

"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"

No response at all.

Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.

"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"

"No,"

A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.

"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"

That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"

He struggles for the right words.

How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.

Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.

Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?

He couldn't quite come up with an answer.

"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."

"It's not your fault,"

"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.

Another pause.

"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"

[lxnarphase]

Please more Hikari and Todo. It's scratching this itch in my brain😩

IF YOU WANT IT ๋࣭ ⭑

☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : AAA yesyes this has been brewing for a while, i am happy to write hakari i love him so sooooo much!! and ive got another ask for a todo fic im workin on so this'll be hakari's piece <33 it a bit short bc ive got a bit of writers block rn bc of finals taking away my creativity, BUT I THINK ITS GOOD

☾₊‧⁺...cw : smut, pre-established relationship, unprotected sex, dirty talk, begging, mentions of creampies, mentions of birth control, reader makes the birth control decision herself not for the man!!! never get on birth control just cause a man says to!!, hakari nearly loses it

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : you tell your boyfriend that you'd like to try sex with no condom and he can't help but get a little excited

"you...you what?"

the way you giggle makes him dizzy as you flicked the condom out of his hands with your middle finger and thumb. "you heard me, mr. hakari. no condom, baby girl is on birth control," you said in a singy-song voice. you made the decision a while ago and decided you were going to stick to it. "if you want to use a condom, we can, though, honey," you say, cupping one of his cheeks.

he looked so cute, jaw dropped as he kneels between your thighs, dick hard and twitching. "nonononono, i wanna try, i do, 'm just..." kinji lets out a heavy sigh before he shuffles a little closer. "c-can't believe you lettin' me d'this, cupcake..."

the poor thing, kinji looks so nervous, his eyes wide as he slowly, carefully, starts to push his tip in. if he's going to do this, he needs to commit, but fuck, your pussy was so hot, he feels like he's gonna die-- the moment his tip pops in, he is a goner. his head falls back and his fingers dig into the fat of your hips as a choked groan escapes him.

"hoooohmygod, baby, what the fuck," kinji swears, looking back down. he didn't wanna miss a single second of his cock pushing inside, but the view wasn't doing him any better. "you're so warm...are you always this wet, cupcake? fuck, i didn't know, baby, i didn't know."

you coo at him, how could you not when he already looks so fucked out? his pretty eyes are rolling back and his lip is between his teeth, the glint of his chain with your name on it dangling so pretty on his neck.

he's not moving yet, he's still inside you, so sure that he's going to lose himself inside of you. but then you start talking and he's so screwed because hearing you say such filthy things in that gorgeous, addictive voice of yours is kinji's weakness.

"c'mon, kinjiiii, you just gonna sit there?"

"mmn, poor thing, 's too good? you gonna cum just from puttin' it in?"

"d'aww, kinjiii...pussy made you fucked out already?"

yes. yes it fucking did.

weakly dropping down to his forearms over you, he presses a little kiss against your cheek before pressing his forehead against yours and glaring at you weakly. you know you've got him where you want him.

"doll, you're so cruel to me."

finally, finally, he starts moving and...it feels way too good.

"o-oh. mnn, kinji, shit," you swear, glancing down to where his cock is slowly dragging out of you just to push back in. "fuck, b-baby, you feel s' hot inside me..." the wet noise that fills the air as he slides back in to the hilt causes makes you both hot in the face, it's already getting messy and he hasn't even picked up the pace yet. he coos at you, kissing you once you begin to mewl his name. "i know, baby, i know, 's good, yeah?"

fuck, the sensation of being inside you without any barrier is intoxicating, overwhelming. kinji's pretty eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he allowed himself to feel every detail of your slick walls gripping him.

"talk t' me, angel, how's it feel, huh? c'mon, pretty baby, i wanna know," kinji whines, hips starting to pick up speed as he grows desperate to hear you say how good it feels.

but you don't even get to respond before he hits so fucking deep that you can feel yourself gush. the feeling of your hot, cushy walls hugging him so tightly paired with the pretty little gasp he gets when his sticky tip nudges against something that makes you get impossibly wetter makes him lose his mind.

"y'feel it, right? 's me, 's all me, an' i don't know if i can go back, baby girl, fuck! ohmygodd, you're so wet, so fucking wet for me."

"can i cum inside? you gonna let me fuck you full? hm? please, baby, i'll be so good to ya, let your man stuff you wit' his cum, 's gonna feel so fuckin' good, promise, promise."

"suckin' me in so good, 'm-'m gonna be in this pussy all the fuckin' time. you can handle it, right? gonna be a good girl and get fucked every. fucking. day. by hakari kinji? say it, i wanna hear you say it, cupcake."

"i love you, baby, y'know that right? yeah? yeah, love you s' fuckin' much, 'm gonna marry you and make sure you never have t' go a day without gettin' fucked raw by this cock, 's alllllll for you."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

into you

Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.247

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano

A/N: Another one for  @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

You couldn’t sleep. 

The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland. 

You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got. 

For years you dreamed of being a big movie star. 

Much like every young person who came to LA. 

Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year. 

By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it. 

Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.

You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month. 

They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason. 

Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead. 

Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you. 

You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change. 

Not just because they offered you the job. 

No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was. 

You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens. 

And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope. 

But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years. 

You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then. 

He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing. 

But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life. 

So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition. 

Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.

Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional. 

Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone. 

2:43 am. 

Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back. 

In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo. 

You should be beyond happy. 

Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined. 

Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet. 

You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him. 

Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed. 

More than once. 

In front of the camera. 

But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you. 

You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room. 

You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay. 

You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound. 

In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise. 

You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up. 

He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.

And so instead he played. 

And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other. 

Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play. 

His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song. 

When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked. 

You hummed in agreement. 

„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side. 

„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled. 

„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile. 

„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place. 

„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you. 

„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him. 

„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed. 

„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head. 

You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.

„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours. 

„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered. 

„Yeah?“ He asked. 

„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply. 

„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again. 

„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment. 

„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes. 

„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest. 

You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too. 

„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face. 

He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.

„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked. 

„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie. 

„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down. 

„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go. 

„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry. 

The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces. 

„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder. 

„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. 

„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging. 

„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…

You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.

„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked. 

„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours. 

You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped. 

„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss. 

The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet. 

Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile. 

„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over. 

„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him. 

„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready. 

And you did actually get married. 

Seven months later.

On a beach. 

In the rain. 

Without any interruptions. 

[grimm-writings]

Hey! Can I request a falin x reader where reader is a lone researcher in the dungeon and stumbles into chimera falin and the two fall in love?

Maybe Like a 5 times the reader has met chimera falin and 1 time the two get to meet after she’s turned back type story?

beauty/beast

…ft! falin x gn! reader

…tags! 5+1 format, reader is like slightly unhinged, fluff with moments of angst, slight suggestiveness

…wc! 2789

…notes! grimm tries not to come off as a monsterkisser for nearly 2.7k words, the fic,,,, hope you enjoy!!!! i love chimera falin so bad… 

One

You can’t say you didn’t ask for this.

It’s a death sentence to traverse into a dungeon on your own, especially with your lack of combat skills.  If you were sane, you’d have hired a bodyguard to help take down monsters you couldn’t handle.  Fortunately, you are not, and decided instead you could very well handle monsters in a pacifistic way.

Any companion you told this to chose to stare at you like you admitted to dark magic.

So, you’ll simply prove the nay-sayers wrong!  After all, how hard can it be to tame some monsters?

Very hard, actually.  Like… incredibly.

You had to pride yourself in how you managed to sweet-talk some petty thieves for advice on monsters in the floor you’re currently on, even how to avoid orcs!  At least that much is out of the way.

As for fighting, well, sometimes a very sharp slap to the head with a book, or even the sharp tip of a pen can subdue anyone, if just to give you enough time to run.

Besides, blood makes for some extra ink if you just happened to come by a dead body!

Going purely on efficiency alone, you’re doing tremendous work!  When it comes to your study?  Not so much.

The purpose of coming all the way down here is that you have a very specific urge.  That being, to tame a beast.  Some researchers gained the will to try and do the same to elemental spirits, why not other monsters?

One of the most common rebuttals you receive is that monsters are animals, they can’t be tamed at all, and you shouldn’t even try lest you want your head bitten off.  Considering thus far you only got bitten by a walking mushroom, you think you’re doing rather well!  (You did take an hour to contemplate to yourself how a walking mushroom seemingly has teeth, though.)

That brings you now later to the fourth floor, trying to shield your notes from the water as you lament losing more ink.  Sure, you might write a little bit more than should be necessary, but you surely can’t be out already!

So, delight fills you as you peer past a doorway to see the top half of a woman face down on the floor.  Haha, you can likely drain her pretty easily for some ink!  Looks fresh enough, and some patches of her are already damp with red!

You skip over, humming as you do so, when all at once the woman jerks and looks up at you.  Her golden eyes pierce your own, making you freeze in place.  You wonder if something had gotten mixed up and a succubus ended up making its way to an upper floor, when the walls of the small tower the woman is inhabiting collapses.

A chimera screeches at you, as if telling you to leave it alone.  If you weren’t so awestruck, you would have tried to shush it, lure it towards you and petted its oddly human head.  Alas, you let the chicken-legged thing go, finding a safe haven for itself.

Day 1: I have found a beast in its purest form. I must pursue it. I must tame it.

Two

‘Obsession’ would be putting your experience lightly.

You had never wanted to gaze upon a monster as much as you wished to see the chimera again.  Unique is its proportions, the lower body of a dragon and the torso and head of an adult tallwoman.

To anyone else, its face must be more of a lure.  With the prettiest face and… great assets to boot, like a fish drawn to an angler fish's light, a blindsided adventurer comes near.

You had tried to navigate where the beast has gone, observing the damages of certain areas to lead you closer to it.

Thoughts course through your mind like speckles of a daydream as you walk and walk and walk, trying to sneak past other enemies and adventurers as you do so.  What would its feathers feel like?  Is it different from the mop of blonde hair on its head?  You didn’t get the chance to observe its eyes – are they human or monster?  What of its body heat?  What is its diet?

Ah.  Diet.

Your own body stops walking in realisation.  By all means, comparing their mouth to the rest of their body, it’s ultimately impossible for the chimera to have a stable diet in this dungeon, correct?

Perhaps… you need to make a lure of your own.

Even after days of navigating the dungeon, you still have plenty of rations from the surface remaining in your bag.  Hopefully the chimera likes the most noble meal one can fit inside a lunchbox — meats and pasta with the richest sauce.  One could say your taste in meals is unique, eliciting a morbid curiosity.  If the beast is more in tune with its human side, it will react the same.

You don’t know what tempted you to arrange a table with two chairs on either side.  It’s not like the chimera could fit, but it was only suitable for your first formal meeting with it!  Oh, how you can’t wait to observe it eating, and so close…!

If you’re lucky, it may even attempt to taste you.

You promptly shake off the thought.

What you focus on now is to draw the chimera near.  It seems to favour secluded areas, but has been seemingly chased around.  Aw, is it scared of humans?  That’s just adorable!  Or, maybe, it’s resting before setting off on a search…  Now that’d be some juicy stuff!  Who’s the chimera’s prey?  Another monster, or humans?

Oh, of course you’ll use yourself as bait.  You’re not a coward!

You know basic enough spells that you won’t be entirely drained of mana upon use, lighting up a route to catch the chimera’s attention upon spotting it.  Down you lead it, making yourself look as bright and delectable as possible, before sitting in your seat, your meal readily prepared for the chimera.

You smile up at her as she pokes at the food you prepared, and she begins to eat.

Day 3: The beast was very hungry upon encounter.  Even when she finished the meal, she insisted on having something more.  I complied, and soon I had emptied my entire share of rations.  The chimera eats food made for humans easily. This elicits curiosity – it might be proof enough that the chimera’s existence in this dungeon is unnatural.  Even now, it looks too… human.  I feel uncomfortable now referring to the beast as such – an ‘it’. Thus, I will refer to the chimera as ‘she’ from here on.  It suits her.  She truly is magnificent.   All signs point to her being an attempt at creating a ‘beast-kin’, but instead of using the soul of a monster and body of a human, it’s as if it’s a mesh of both.  A disgustingly beautiful transformation.  To compare, it is not dissimilar to the breeding of a pug.  Deliberately done to appease someone, something.  A selfish birth. Someone must be wanting to do the same as I to the chimera – tame her to their whims. …I’ll have to look further into this.

Three

You feel less in control of your studies these days.

The more you hang around the dungeon, scavenging for food and following your muse, the more insane you feel.  But, for the sake of research, you power through.

The chimera, she has been opening herself up to you.  When she gets anxious, her feathers ruffle, and you shush her with pets.  She calms down occasionally.  Once, you had encountered her, blood on her body and under her fingernails.  You cleaned her using the mana-infused water.  She had never looked so calm.

She doesn’t feel like a monster you have tamed, but a friend.

This scares you.

Sure, there’s the possibility that the chimera is an unnatural phenomenon, and isn’t even a monster.

But that also means you’re losing your resolve.

The chimera sits with you, as you scrub her red-scaled talons free of dirt and blood.  Her upper body leans on you, resting.  You can even hear little chirps slipping from her lips.

She’s so cute.

Even as her golden eyes soften, the small slits in them dilating to exhibit relaxation, she smiles at you.  You don’t flinch when her hands take your face to look at you.  She’s a bird after all – she might be trying to memorise you, how you look, so she knows not to hurt you in the future.

You were nearly about to reminisce on your further embarrassment when the chimera speaks.

Four words.  She spoke four words in the common language, leaving you staring at her.  You’re speechless.  She must know that she’s caught you off guard as she slowly tucks your hair behind your ear and moves away.

The moment is quickly ruined.  “Dragon!”  A boyish voice calls.  “There you are.  You’ve been leaving my side so frequently.  There’s no time to–”

An elf in a cloak freezes upon noticing you.  His heavy eye bags rival your own as he glares down at your sitting position.

You don’t do anything, merely looking up at your friend in confusion.  She is back to being silent again, reaching her arms out to the elf, as if about to pick him up.  He swats at her, before pointing at you.

“Kill them,” he demands her.

She hesitates.  You also find yourself unable to move.  So the chimera is under someone’s control after all.  This elf, forcing you apart from your friend.

You hardly process your friend lifting you off the floor, her fingers closing in around your throat.  Tighter and tighter.  Your eyes can barely make out her empty expression as she squeezes the life out of your lungs.

Snap.

You fall onto the floor, and the mad mage leaves with his dragon in tow.

Day ??: “My name is Falin.” The chimera told me this last time we encountered one another.  She has a name.  A beautiful name that belongs just to her.  Falin. …I would say ‘my Falin’, but she is not.  She is under the control of that elf.  I wouldn’t want her to be my Falin anyway. She shouldn’t belong to anyone. I was revived by a kindly Eastern woman, who is accompanying a group of retainers following their lord.  They are joined by another party, also recently revived. Apparently, in my revival, I had uttered her name, “Falin,” and captured the attention of the malnourished lord. He is looking for her. …I was informed she is his love. Pushing personal feelings aside, I asked to come along.  I neglected to mention Falin’s current state.  I couldn’t do that to him right now.  Maybe once he sleeps, or eats… but not now. Falin, I wish to save you.  That is my goal now. You are not a monster to be tamed.

Four

Today, you met Laios Touden.

He is Falin’s older brother, you learn.

You met a lot of people, actually.  You met Falin’s party, an elf who Falin went to school with, as well as Laios Touden.

“You’ve seen Falin?”  He asks you, brow creased.  He had leaned forward in interest.  Lord Toshiro, Kabru, and Asebi were also listening to you with intrigue.

You nod.  “Yes, but I fear the situation might be a little more than you have bargained for,” you vaguely inform.

Your words would be interrupted by Laios’ request to talk privately with Toshiro, to which you comply.  You do already have a feeling of what's being said, something Kabru seems to pick up on as he glances over at you.

“Falin… isn’t faring well, is she?”

“Not in the traditional sense,” you reply.  Kabru grimaces, clearly not appreciating your rather… erratic way of conversing.  You add before he could talk back, “she’ll come back for me.”

Kabru furrows his brow.  “Excuse me?”

His question remains unanswered until you are swept up in a heated battle.  Looks of horror cross everyone’s faces at the bloody acts committed by the chimera.

You merely smile.

“Hello beauty,” you whisper when she turns to you.  Falin steps forward, cornering you.  You welcome her with open arms – and the world becomes dark again.

Day ??: Scorned though I may be by Lord Toshiro, I know myself not to be mad, but in love. Yes, I am in love.  I know this now for certain. I know that he, too, is in love.  I do not see his wishes badly.  In fact, from a sane man’s mouth, it is perfectly understandable.  Dark magic is dangerous.  As is love.  He’s risking his own reputation for it, even if others don’t appear to see things the way he does. But when push comes to shove, I am not that sane man.  I am joining Laios Touden’s party in the retrieval of Falin. The aftermath of the battle consisted of a hearty meal.  Who knew monsters could taste so nice?  Keep this in mind for the next adventure. I had figured this all came from the result of black magic.  Marcille Donato is a much more interesting woman than I thought.  I’m sure I could learn a lot from her. Hence, we march forward.  I know you aren’t in your right mind, Falin, but trust that I am. I will risk it all for you, beauty.

Five

The ice is cold underneath your fingertips.  The woman encased inside is relaxed, as if she’s merely asleep.  To see her completely separated from the lower half of the chimera body was something uncanny to you, so used to seeing her towering over you, able to squash you like a bug.

You turn to Marcille as she approaches.  “You had the right mind, keeping her fresh like this.  Deep down, you really did want to follow through with the plan!”

The blonde elf is sheepish.  “I did end up causing a right mess in the end.  It… It was selfish of me.”

“It was love,” you reply.

“Not the love Falin needs, though,” she finishes.

You both stare up at her in silence.  If you were delusional enough, you could swear you could see Falin breathing.

“I love her,” you admit, quieter than you have ever been.  “Is that alright with you?”

Marcille turns to you, her eyes wide.  For such a gossip, she really hasn’t picked up on it?

“I…”  She hesitates.  Her hands reach her trousers, and she scrunches up the fabric in her hands.  “It’s not my choice what – or who – Falin chooses.  I don’t think I have the right to decide anything for her.”

You nod, graciously taking Marcille’s word to heart.

You feel you’ve also changed throughout your journey.  Volatile as you may be, you appreciate Falin as she is.  An untamed beauty.  Not for anyone to claim or put their ideals onto.

She’s simply Falin.

“Come on,” Marcille takes your hand.  She has the kind of look on her face where you know she accepts you readily.  “Let’s go eat, okay?  For Falin.”

You smile back.  “For Falin.”

I don’t care about the day anymore. Falin is being revived today.  Soon, I’ll have a chance to meet the real her.  The beauty behind the beast. Ha.  I haven’t called her that for a while. Maybe I’ll follow Toshiro’s way and propose immediately too?  No, Marcille may accept me, but that might result in another need for revival. I can’t wait to get to know you.

the first time

Falin opens the door with a dazed expression, not expecting the crowd waiting around the door.  Of course, this resulted in quite the hoo-ha.  People running around, celebrating the successful revival of Falin Touden.  You wait patiently for you to be welcomed once more.

The woman is sitting calmly at her bed.  Some of her features are still feathered, but you’ve always liked how they felt underneath your fingertips.

She glances up at you, examining your form.

You’re taller than she thought.

“Hi,” you say, handing over a random blade of grass you picked.

Falin takes it.  Her fingers brush against your own.  She starts twirling the natural green between her fingers.  She smiles warmly.  “Hello,” her soft, tired voice returns.  It’s so sweet that you might melt.  “My name is Falin.  It’s nice to meet you.”

You know from the way she glances up at you that she already remembers you quite well.

Feeling the happiest you’ve ever been, you fall into Falin, pulling her into the tightest of hugs.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you too, beauty.”

Today, she asked me if she could belong to me. I said yes, but only if she belonged to herself first. She accepted.

[makelemonade]

Good afternoon, Lemonade. I read your Tsaritsa fic and would like to make a request for Childe. The Tsaritsa plays intervention after hearing rumors about Childe cheating on Fem!Reader with Lumine.

The Tsaritsa is the archon of love, so when she notices and feels that the love lives of her Harbingers aren’t going too well, she has to interfere- pt2

Childe; hurt/comfort, female reader, harbingers are all friends. I wrote that it was assumed he was cheating but didn’t actually I suck at writing cheating idk @ruttteerr pt1

Childe

You understood that your boyfriend’s job was difficult- 11th may have been the lowest but that didn’t make the work or missions any less than the others have it.

And because compared to the other Harbinhers, he’s one of the only few who actually goes out on missions and leaves for days to weeks to months.

At first it was…annoying- he was always gone for days, and if he was actually here he’d be off working on a bunch of papers or training new fatuus.

But he tries to be with you, both mentally and physically. If he’s away, he’ll write a letter for you everyday, telling you about how it was and he hopes you’ll send one at the end of the week. If he’s working at home, he’ll ask you to sit on his lap as he works or stay in the room with him so when he gets tired and frustrated he can hold.

If he’s working in the castle- he’s bringing you to the castle. You get the picture.

So when he tells you he has a mission in Liyue that’ll take a few weeks, you’re emptying out your mailbox so that all of his letters can fit.

Yet only one comes.

The letter tells you that the first day of his mission has already gone hectic as he had to save a girl from the millileth- he learned her name was lumine and she was the same traveller who saved mondstadt from the dragon.

Now you’re not jealous. Sure at the start of the relationship you easily got jealous of girls that would stare at Childe and flirt with him but after many years of being with him and not once did he cheat, you trusted him.

It was just so insanely weird that suddenly all the letters stopped. None came for 2 weeks and you were feeling nervous- did something happen to him? Was he hurt?!?!

Your thoughts worsened when one day, a subordinate showed up to your home, carriage ourside and explaining a Harbinger has called for you.

Did he die?!?!? You ask him so many questions but he apologizes and says he knows nothing and you’re forced to head to the carriage, on the way to the castle.

Once inside, you found Signora- a friend and a harbinger. She was pacing around, and her eyes lit up when she saw you.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, your breath quickening at her state. “Is Childe okay?”

“Who cares about him!” She scoffed, walking up to you. “Has he sent you anything lately? I just got back from Liyue.”

“No- and shouldn’t he be here with you?!”

“He asked for a few extra days to stay there.” She dragged a hand down her face, seemingly very annoyed.

You were about to ask why- what’s so important that he’s taking extra time on this mission but Signora was already back?! Until it clicked in your head, and slowly as the puzzle pieces went together, the pieces of your heart started to break.

“He met lumine…” you breathed out, remembering his final letter before they stopped.

She frowned. “Everyday I was there they were always together. And now he’s taking a few days extra?! Y/N, they are hanging out one hundred percent. Honestly, I think he might’ve…”

You put a hand up to stop her, feeling tears well in your eyes. No- this couldn’t be! He would never!

“What’s she like?” You asked, somewhat trying to make this whole situation worse for yourself.

“She fights a lot- as much as Childe, honestly.”

A girl who loves to fight, just like he does.

“Looks?”

“Ugly.”

Gorgeous actually, she just didn’t wanna say it.

“This can’t be happening,” You sniffed, trying not to let any tears fall.

Down the hall, just around the corridor was Pierro, listening in on everything and deciding he must tell the queen of love herself.

~~

“WHAT?!?!?” She screamed, echoing around the throne room and sending shivers down everyone’s spine. Her face was full of fury, and Pierro was honestly a bit scared. “CHILDE? CHEATING? ON Y/N?”

She practically growled, pacing back and forth around the room. “This is…atrocious! Nauseating! Abhorrent! And it’s the same traveller that tried to stop Signora, am I not correct?! Does he have no shame?!”

Pierro just blinked, not knowing what to say but he honestly couldn’t even get a word in with how much she was ranting.

“I want a room put for her this instant! She will stay in the castle as a loved guest until Childe comes. Speaking of! WHO IS HE WITH?!”

Pierro took a step back. “Zhongli- Morax’s human form.”

“I’m gonna visit that dragon in my dreams and he better relay every single goddamn word I say to Childe and Childe BETTER be here in 3 days!”

“Can i take my leave now?” He honestly didn’t care.

“Wait! Tell the others that the moment chikde steps FOOT in this castle he is to report straight to the hall and all of you will give him an intervention! No- actually! Tell him to come here and I WILL.”

“Ok.” He shrugged and she sighed, taking a seat back onto her throne and waving her hand away, letting Pierro take his leave.

~~

Childe was absolutely scared shitless when he arrived back in Snezhnaya because what the hell did Zhongli mean when he said he went to sleep and the Tsaritsa visited him in his slumber screaming at him to tell Childe to come back to Snezhnaya immediately?!?!???

The moment the palace doors closed behind him, the walls started to shake and ice fell from the ceilings.

“AJAX!”

The Tsaritsa’s scream echoed around every ahll of the castle and dread filled him in an instant. He looked to the side of the hall to see Dottore, who looked absolutely scared shitless and Capitano who went rigid.

“You’re in some deep shit comrade.” Dottore snorted and Childe genuinely had no idea what he was talking about

And he still had no idea as he stood in the throne room, watching the Tsaritsa yap and yell at him but he couldn’t even understand a word he was saying.

Because all she would say was “cheater” over and over again and say she was so humiliated and disappointed and he had no idea what to say.

“Do you have anything to say?!”

“Yeah- what thé hell are you talking about?!”

“You cheated on Y/N!”

He stared at her, absolutely dumbfounded for a few seconds before he broke out into a fit of laughter. “What?! Oh my, your majesty I never took you as one to be such a jokester!”

Now she was confused. “Huh? I’m not! You cheated on Y/N with Lumine! Of all people you could’ve done it with- HER? OUR ENEMY?”

He realized she was serious and now he was once again, insanely confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You cheated on Y/N with lumine!”

His jaw dropped. What? No, he would never ever EVER cheat on his pookie bear and he MEANT that because you’re the love of his life! “I would never cheat on her!”

She was about to yell at him, but then she felt it- she felt the amount of love he had for her now that he was back, and it was too strong- too strong to remain after cheating on someone.

She basked in the feeling for a while, and felt herself calm down. “You…didn’t?”

He just shook his head, scoffing. “Where did this even come from?!?”

She didn’t answer, instead laughing and yelling “YES!” Out of joy and she ran up to hug him and he was just so confused still.

“Oh, forget everything I just said about you, Tartaglia! It was a rumour, and we all believed it!”

“All- SO Y/N THINKS SO TOO?!”

Her heart drops when she realizes.

~~

You were hesitant to let Childe into the room the Harbingers so graciously offered you, but he just sounded so desperate that you couldn’t help yourself.

His heart broke at the sight of you- eyes red, nose runny and your shirt drenched in your own tears. He took your hands, realizing just how cold they were and sat down beside you on the bed.

He put one hand on your cheek to wipe away a falling tear and you tried to ignore how cold his hand was.

“I…I’m sorry. I made a promise to you years ago- a promise that I would never leave your side, and I still intend on keeping that promise, but I should’ve tried harder on my mission. I wanted to write to you everyday, but it got so hectic…Morax decided to pull a “fake-my-death” last minute and since, the whole plan was in shambles and the traveller was trying to help…in the end I ended up beating her ass, which I hope makes you feel better-“

It did.

“And so much more happened; I got betrayed by a friend and I never thought I’d be hurt by this but god even Signora betrayed me! They lied to me throughout the mission and the reason I took extra days was because Morax- Zhongli, now, wanted to explain to me just why the plan was changed and I was just gonna spend those few days with him. I should’ve wrote to you- any spare few minutes I had I should’ve spent at least writing out a few words to you, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry.”

More tears flew out of your eyes, and even he was crying too. You wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your head into the crook between his neck and shoulder.

“You’re not obligated to have to always write to me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. “I know. But I want to.”

He’ll take you both to your shared home but now, he just wanted to keep you in his arms to make up for the last 3 weeks.

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 49

It's here!!! The final part of this massive fic. 😭 I can't believe we're finally at the end. I'm still in shock that I get to close the door on this fic that has taken up the last three years of my life. I have so many emotions running through me right now. 🥺

The epilogue will be posted during @elriel-month in addition to a little surprise I'm so excited to share with you. Stay tuned!! 💜💙💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

This part also features descriptions of birth and complications from it.

Word Count: 7,225

Elain had spent a good portion of the late morning getting ready for the baby shower scheduled for noon. At just over eight months pregnant, they were cutting close to the wire of the twins’ arrival.

She was beyond exhausted. Growing the babies was work enough, but she ached everywhere at this point. Her boobs, her hips, her ankles. Her back…that hurt the worst. She looked like she swallowed two extra large watermelons. Elain hadn’t seen her feet in two and half months and she was praying that her toenails looked well enough for sandals today.

On top of her aching body, she also slept like shit the night before, having woken up in the wee hours with Braxton Hicks contractions that seemed to never want to go away. They were getting obnoxious at this point.

Oh! And her boobs had already started leaking. Aside from the contractions, Elain also woke up to a soaked sleep shirt and an attitude that poor Azriel was desperately trying to keep calm. She felt bad that her irritation got directed at him, but he took her mood swings in stride, giving her the space when she needed it, and focusing on taking care of Kaden and getting him ready for the party.

Her husband knocked lightly before entering their bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it when he saw her standing there in an ugly pair of panties and a strapless bra—which she had no idea how it was going to hold up her tits, but here they were. “Hello, my love. How are you doing?” he asked, striding further into their room. He was already dressed in black slacks and a white button-down rolled up to his elbows. It was one of her favorite looks on him. Casual but classy and sexy as hell.

“I’m all right. Better than this morning,” which was true. In the time she took to get ready, she felt her irritation slowly dissipate. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

He gifted her a soft smile he reserved only for her and their children. “El, you’re carrying two babies. You’re allowed to let out your frustrations. I’m here to spar if you need it, you know that.”

She knew he meant spar as in letting her yell and shout and hiss words until she felt better while he just took it. Gods, he really was the perfect husband. Elain held out her coco butter lotion towards him. “Do you mind rubbing this on me and helping me dress?”

Azriel took the bottle from her outstretched hands, dropping a sweet kiss on her plump lips before squirting some into his scarred palms and gently rubbing it all over her swollen stomach. He knelt before her, dutifully getting every inch of her covered. “You are so beautiful, Elain,” he murmured, kissing her at the fullest part of her belly.

She snorted. “I am a beached whale who ate too much.”

“You are a gorgeous woman carrying life inside of her womb. That will always be beautiful, sweetheart.”

How he always knew what to say was beyond her, but she tugged him up off the ground to kiss him thoroughly. It should’ve annoyed her with how just a few sweeps of Azriel’s tongue had every concern and irritation simply melt away. He knew when to play that card and fuck did he play it well.

But even his tongue couldn’t stop the hiss of pain as another contraction wracked her body.

He immediately pulled back at the sound, eyes scanning her face. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern etched into the tone.

She breathed through the wave that tightened in her abdomen. “Braxton Hicks contractions,” she said as an explanation.

 His brows shot into his hairline. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

Elain reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, her thumb swiping over the stubble there. “No, it’s a normal thing this late in the pregnancy. I’ve had a few this morning starting before dawn. It’s why I was grouchy.”

Understanding lit his face and he carefully ran his hand down her stomach again. “Why didn’t you wake me this morning?”

She huffed a laugh. “Because I knew you’d go into full-birthing-dad-mode and neither one of us would’ve slept any longer.”

Azriel shot her an unamused glare. “You will be thanking me for that birthing-dad mode when you’re in labor and I have everything packed up within minutes.”

This time Elain laughed loud and joyfully. “Yes, you’re probably right.” She nodded to the dress on the bed. “Help me slip that on?”

He grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his large fists, and pulled it over her head. It was an off-the-shoulder, loose, pale pink cotton dress, decorated with roses. It looked vintage, gathering just under her bust, with oversized puffy sleeves that sat off her shoulders, over her biceps. Ruffles accentuated the bottom hem, emphasizing the vintage style. It was the perfect spring dress. When Elain first saw it at the store, she knew she had to buy it for the shower.

Azriel tugged her loose curls from the back of the dress, letting them brush against her spine. He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder before grabbing the rose-pendant necklace he bought to go with the dress and draping it around her delicate neck. “Perfect,” he murmured onto her skin, his smile pressing against her neck.

Elain sighed softly, reaching up to thread her fingers through his dark hair. “How am I still horny for you?”

He nipped at her throat, a rumble shaking his chest. “Because you know I can deliver what you need without even blinking.”

This time she laughed, letting his hands run across her body in possessive little touches.

Azriel brazenly cupped her sex through the dress, growling as she let out a mewling sound and began to writhe against those skilled fingers, searching for the friction she desperately craved. “Would you like to fuck my hand, love?” he murmured, mouth grazing her jaw.

Elain fell slack against him, letting his strength hold her up. “Az,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub her in earnest. “Please.”

He nipped the curve of her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “You beg so prettily, El.” Bunching up the dress in a fist, Azriel slid her panties aside, swiping his fingers over her soaked pussy. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet for me. Always desperate for my touch.”

She gripped him, nails digging into his exposed forearms. “I need—I need,” she panted out, wiggling in his hold. “Please, Az.”

Giving her exactly what she wanted—needed—Azriel sunk his middle finger into her aching cunt, pumping once before adding a second digit. “Such a good girl,” he whispered, thrusting in and out of her. The heel of his palm grazed her clit sending bolts of pleasure up her spine.

Elain bit her lip, stifling the moan that threatened to burst from her. His fingers scraped along that special spot inside of her, building her up and up and up until she teetered on the edge of bliss.

Barely conscious of her surroundings, Elain caught the sound of the door handle jiggling, followed by a “Momma!”

Azriel clapped a hand over her mouth as he continued his machinations. “Momma’s getting dressed, Kaden. We’ll be out in a minute,” he called out, pressing his palm firmly on her clit and sending her spiraling into her orgasm.

Too far gone to care, she tumbled into sweet oblivion, coming hard on his fingers. Elain moaned, only quieted by the muffling against her husband’s scarred hand.

He worked her through her release, slowing his movements when she started to come down from her high. Az peppered her skin with sweet kisses, removing his fingers from her pussy and readjusting her panties back into place before letting the dress fall back down. “Better, my love?”

“I’m gonna have to change my underwear, but yes.” She twisted in his arms, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Elain brought his mouth down to hers, tongue licking the drop of her release dotting his bottom lip. “Thank you, husband.”

He smiled into their kiss, deepening it once more. “I’ll go check on Kaden while you finish up. We’ll head out when you’re done.”

Twenty minutes later, they were in the car on their way to Rhys and Feyre’s place. It was a gorgeous day full of sunshine, the air warm with the oncoming of summer. It was as if even the Mother wanted to grace her presence on that day with her radiance. They really couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day for a baby shower.

“Momma?” Kaden called from the back seat. “Where are we going?”

His speech had improved so much since they first brought him home that the therapist they hired had told them after the end of the school year, that he likely wouldn’t need to continue seeing a specialist to catch him up. He was reading and writing the way a five-year-old should be and was on track to pass kindergarten with flying colors.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Remember how we talked about going to Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys’s for the baby shower today.”

He seemed to think about that. “What’s a baby shower?”

Her lips quirked up at his curious mind. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked about where babies came from again. “It’s a party to celebrate the upcoming arrival of your brother and sister.” Her hand came to rest on her belly instinctively.

His face scrunched up. “Will I have to take a bath again?”

Azriel let out a snort, glancing at her. “It’s a fair question.”

She laughed. “No, sweetheart. Not that kind of shower. To shower with love. The party is just to celebrate the babies before they arrive.”

“Will there be cake?” he asked, excitement lighting up his face at the prospect of sweets.

“For my sister’s sake, there better be.” Elain’s late-stage pregnancy craving was anything sweet. Cookies, cakes, pastries, whatever she could get her hands on, she was eating it. Azriel was barely able to keep the pantry stocked with desserts for her to snack on.

Her husband chuckled. “If she doesn’t, we’ll stop by a bakery on our way home and get each of you a cake. How’s that sound?” he asked, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

She grinned. “You spoil me.”

He looked at her then. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

They were fashionably late to their baby shower, and Elain completely blamed her husband’s morning sexual charade for the delay in their arrival. Not that she minded at all. She had another Braxton Hick contraction in the car, Azriel eying her with worry and once again asking if they should make a pitstop at the hospital just in case.

But that would’ve made them even more late and Elain knew it was unnecessary.

All of their friends and family were waiting for their arrival. And she hated being late.

“What am I going to do with you gone for six months, Elain?” Thesan teased, taking a sip of his beer.

She shot a devilish grin at the head nurse sitting on the couch across from her. “I’m sure Viv would love to pick up all the slack.”

Viviane squawked in outrage and pointed a menacing finger in her direction. “Don’t put your work on me while you’re enjoying your babymoon, Elain Archeron-Knight.”

The group laughed as she pushed herself up off the couch. Another contraction hit her and she winced, catching the attention of the sharp-eyed nurse. But before she could ask, Kaden came bounding up to her, tugging on the skirt of her dress.

“Momma, can I have a cake pop?” He looked up at her with those damn puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist.

Elain ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, sweetie. Only one. You don’t want to spoil your appetite for Uncle Cassian’s good barbeque.”

Said uncle was out in the backyard tending to the grill with her husband, Rhys, and the Moonbeam brothers because, apparently, that’s where men gathered. Aelin and Rowan had joined them, the former getting an eyebrow raise from Azriel at her company’s appearance.

She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to perhaps score one of those cake pops herself—she was the guest of honor, surely she could snag one too. Feyre, Nuala, and Cerridwen had been busy putting together the final touches for lunch and were just waiting for Cassian’s proteins to serve food.

But just as she reached the breakfast bar, a wave of excruciating pain washed over her. Catching herself on the counter, Elain gripped the side of her stomach, groaning loud enough that the other room went silent. And then she felt it. Liquid surged between her legs, puddling the floor beneath her.

No. No, it was too soon. They couldn’t be coming already.

Viviane rounded the corner from the living room as Feyre and the twins approached her.

Somebody breathed her name, but she couldn’t decipher who it was over the blood rushing in her ears.

More footsteps sounded as her friends and family came from the living room to see what was going on.

“Elain.” It was Feyre’s voice that broke through the fog of fear that had clouded her, but she was too numb to respond. Too nervous. “Somebody get Azriel!”

Her panic grew and her breathing turned shallow. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared enough. The anxiety of giving birth hit her like a freight train.

She couldn’t do this.

She couldn’t.

~~~~~

Azriel took a swig of his beer, rolling his eyes at the cad comment Rhys made. His tanned skin warmed in the sunlight even with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. With a glance at the large window, he caught Elain rising from her spot on the couch, Kaden gripping her dress to speak with her.

Gods, that fucking dress. Elain looked like a maternal goddess in it, emphasizing her swollen belly, brimming with the life of his children. Az never realized he had a breeding kink until he and Elain got back together. His desire to fill her with his seed, to watch her grow with life had him hardening in his pants.

Now at eight months, she had reached the stage where little things irked the hell out of her. Honestly, her temper was cute as hell, but he tried to be considerate of her exhaustion and short-fuse, offering himself up to take the heat of her ire. It was only fair—he’s the one that got her pregnant.

It may have made him a primitive, alpha-douchebag, but fuck did he love to see her waddling around, pregnant and barefoot in their home. She was already such a wonderful mother to their boy, Kaden. Cassian had been right. He was so incredibly grateful for Elain’s maternal instinct.

“Something caught your eye, brother?” Cassian taunted, grinning. His brother knew exactly what he was looking at. Or whom.

He shot him a dry look that had Cash chuckling.

“If she wasn’t already pregnant, I’d say that look alone could’ve knocked her up,” he teased. “Who knew you had such a kink, Az.”

Azriel opened his mouth to retort, but the sliding glass door opening caught his attention.

Nuala peeked her head out, a worried look on her face that had his stomach tightening in knots. “Azriel! Get in here now!”

But he was already moving, dropping his drink on the table and running after her into the house, his brothers and friends hot on his heels. He froze in the entryway of the kitchen, taking in the scene for a split second before his eyes settled on Elain bent over the counter, a puddle of clear liquid beneath her.

His feet ate up the space between them in three long strides, her name falling from his lips as he cupped her face and forced her gaze on his. Azriel prided himself in knowing exactly what Elain was feeling, what she was thinking by just the look on her face. He read her better than he did himself. So, seeing the blatant apprehension and worry written as clearly as a tattoo on her forehead had his heart racing in his chest.

Her eyes were wet with the tears he could tell she was trying to hold back.

“Love,” he said quietly, unsure how to proceed at the moment.

She blinked like hearing him cleared a bit of the fog that had washed over her. “Azriel.” Her voice cracked.

He folded her into his arms, trying to soothe whatever worries were troubling her. “You’re okay, my love.”

Elain seemed to melt in his embrace, her tension slowly ebbing away the longer he held her. He gave her whatever time she needed, ignoring the audience they had around them, but it was long enough for another contraction to hit. She cried out, gripping his hand in hers and squeezing tight.

Viviane snapped into action at that. “Azriel, her contractions are about nine minutes apart now. She’s going to have at least two more by the time you reach the hospital.”

“No hospitals,” Elain growled.

That had him pulling back to look down at her. “El, the babies are coming—”

“No. Hospitals.” He could see the wavering in her face. “I—,” she paused, hesitating. “They’re not ready. It’s too early. Too soon. They can’t come out yet…” Her head fell until she was looking at the wetness still sitting on the floor. “I’m not ready,” Elain whispered so quietly, that he almost missed it.

Azriel knew that was nerves speaking. While Kaden made them parents, the idea of giving birth to the twins was the primary source of her fear. The books he read said that many expectant mothers experienced this type of anxiety right around the time they went into labor. If they were going to have any success in her having a smooth birth, Azriel needed to get her to calm down. He glanced at Cassian. “Can you get her a chair?”

His brother grabbed one from the dining room, setting it out for Az to carefully guide Elain into. He knelt in front of her, keeping her hands clasped firmly in his. “Elain, sweetheart,” her dark eyes latched onto his, needing to hear his reassurance. He kept his voice low, wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation in front of their friends and family.

Rhys seemed to sense that and began ushering people out of the room. “Let’s give the couple a few minutes.”

He shot his brother a grateful look before returning his attention to Elain. “Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. I know it’s earlier than we were expecting. But if there is one thing that I am certain of is that you can do this.” He squeezed her hands in comfort. “You are the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much that once all is said and done, you’re going to look at me and tell me that this was the easy part. I promise you that if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I will be right by your side for every step, holding your hand, giving you ice chips, and bearing whatever you need me to bear to bring our children into the world.”

She sniffed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re sure?”

“Without a doubt, Elain. You can do this.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing her fingers and letting her absorb whatever confidence she needed. “So, what do you say? Are you ready to have our babies, love?”

Elain huffed a laugh, his words settling the nerves she had. “Yes, let’s go have our babies,” she breathed, her grin taking over her entire face, lasting all of thirty seconds before a look of panic took root once more. “Az, the birthing bag is still at the house.”

He let out an undignified snort. “Do you think after having that contraction in front of me this morning, I’d leave the house without having absolutely everything packed and ready to go? Come on, baby, you know me better than that. It’s all in the back of the car.”

She blinked in surprise. “The birthing bag and my pillow?”

“In the car,” he confirmed.

“Kaden’s overnight bag?”

“In the car.”

“The car seats for the twins?”

He scoffed. “You know I installed those weeks ago, try again.”

Her lips quired up at the corner. “What about the slippers I was wearing this morning?” she asked, thinking she had him.

Az rolled his eyes in playful exasperation. “I grabbed them when I snagged the birthing bag.” He kissed her hands again. “I’ve got you, love.”

And then she was leaning forward, kissing him with so much love and devotion, he felt it down to the soul she brought back to life. The sound of their family’s cheers forced them apart, a pretty blush dusting the tops of Elain’s cheeks, but she didn’t dare look away from him.

Without looking away from her, Azriel reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to Rhys. “Can you grab Kaden’s bag from the trunk? The one with dinosaurs. And then Elain’s purple one as well.”

Elain’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why is he grabbing mine?”

His lips pulled up into a knowing grin, brushing the shell of her ear as he leaned forward to whisper, “I thought you might like to change your underwear and put on a maternity pad for the ride to the hospital.”

Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, but she nodded in agreement.  

A little body shuffled closer. “Momma?” Kaden murmured, looking so very worried over the state of his mother.

She held her arms out, motioning him forward. “C’mere sweetheart.” Elain tucked him into her chest, kissing the top of his head. “You’re going to stay here with Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys while Daddy and I go to the hospital to have your brother and sister.”

He looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and damn, the kid knew how to work them. “But I want to go with you!” His lower lip quivered and Azriel could tell he was on the verge of tears.

But his wife took it in stride, cupping his little face in her palms and swiping her thumbs across his cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. I know you do. But you’ll have a much better time here with your aunt and uncle. Momma’s not going to be fun to be around until your siblings are here.” She kissed his plump cheek. “But I promise that you will be the first to see us once they arrive. Okay?”

Feyre stepped forward, reaching out a hand for their son. “Come on, Kaden. We’ll have lots of fun eating all the desserts left over.” She shot them a wink when he finally relented, taking her fingers.

After cleaning her up as best as he could and getting her a maternity pad from her bag, he and Elain were in the car on the way to the hospital. As Viviane predicted, she had two more contractions on the way, grabbing his offered hand and the “oh shit” bar as she groaned her way through it. And then promptly went into a third one right as they arrived.

Az timed them out, still sitting about nine minutes apart. “Breathe, baby. Good, love. Just like that.” His thumb grazed the back of her hand. Her grip was tight, on the verge of painful, but he didn’t dare let his face flinch or show an ounce of discomfort. She needed his strength and that’s exactly what he was going to give her.

They were immediately escorted to their private room and Elain’s vitals were checked over. She was sitting at only two centimeters dilated, which meant they were looking at being there for a bit.

Between her contractions, he swapped out his clothes for a fitted black t-shirt and grey sweatpants to get more comfortable and then sent a text to their siblings to notify them that they were in and settled, but it would be a while before they would have any progress.

“Can you check in with Kaden?” Elain asked, taking a scoop of ice chips from her cup.

The corner of his lips curled up at the question. “I already did. Feyre said he wouldn’t leave the front window for a while and had to persuade him with his baby cousin and a lot of sweet treats.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “He’s going to have a mouth full of cavities before we get home.” Elain twisted to look at him. “Do you think we made the right decision by not letting him come with us? It sounds like he’s waiting for us to return. I know that some families let their little ones be present for the birth of their siblings and we discussed it—”

He interrupted her train of thought. “I think we made the right call, love. We’re going to be here for a while and we both know that things can upset him. I don’t know how well he’d handle watching you go through that.”

She nodded but didn’t look very convinced.

Azriel reached for her hand, covering it with his own and squeezing her fingers. “He’s safe and well-cared for. Remember that while we focus on bringing his little brother and sister into the world.” He brushed his lips over her knuckles in a sweet kiss.

Elain smiled softly at him. “Okay.”

And so, they waited.

Per his wife’s birthing plan, she wanted to attempt to go natural. Azriel admired her strength and resilience in doing so. But after over sixteen hours of hard labor, he could see her resolve fading.

He stroked her cheek, fingers brushing hair behind her ear. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Dark circles already lined the underneath part of her eyes. She looked so weary. “I’m so tired, Az.” Her voice came out nearly broken and fuck if that didn’t just rip his beating heart from his chest.

Kissing her forehead, he murmured, “Do you want to get the epidural? It’ll help you get some much-needed rest before the delivery.” As of now, she was only at seven centimeters and the doctor had said it could still be a while longer until she reached a full ten.

Her chin dipped in confirmation. “Please.”

Azriel didn’t waste time calling for the nurse. Within ten minutes, he watched as a grossly large needle was inserted into her back, sending that relief washing over her. He peppered her face with kisses during the procedure, murmuring words of praise and comfort in her ear as she gritted her teeth through it.

Elain spent the next eight hours in a fitful sleep, dosing off and waking up not long after each time. Azriel didn’t bother to try and sleep, not when she wasn’t really getting much at all.

But finally, after just past nine, she was fully dilated and ready to push.

His wife pushed and pushed and pushed for a half hour with nothing to show for it. She was in tears, frustrated, and so exhausted he was practically supporting all her weight having slid an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.

“I can’t, I can’t,” she sobbed, half burying her face into his chest.

“You can, love. You’re so strong. Just a little bit more,” he tried to reassure her. It fucking killed him to see her like this.

“Can’t you do it for me?” she pleaded, looking up at him with wild, desperate eyes.

He gripped her cheek in his palm, kissing her temple. “You know I would, El. I would give anything to switch places with you right now. But I know you can do this. Just a few more pushes and then they’ll be here.”

Whatever she read within his words seemed to do the trick, her brows furrowing with a determination he hadn’t seen since they left the house. Elain pushed herself up, trying to get into a kneeling position, and he was right there, sliding behind her and supporting her weight.

The nurses squawked, muttering something about hospital policy, but frankly, he did not give a fuck, snarling, “Her body is telling her to push like this. Listen to your fucking patient.”

Changing the position was exactly what she needed because their son was born within the next two contractions, entering the world with a healthy set of lungs.

They sagged back against the pillows, his face wet with tears as they placed their new baby directly on Elain’s bared chest. He couldn’t stop himself from tipping her head back to kiss her softly on the lips, pausing the savor the moment.

Az traced the pads of his fingers over the curve of their boy’s cheek, just needing to touch him to prove he was here with them. Even covered in fluids, he was so beautiful. The perfect blend of the two of them.

The nurses gave them just a few minutes with the first baby before Doctor Chen said that she needed to start pushing again. She took their boy from Elain’s arms, promising to bring him back for Azriel after he was cleaned up and their daughter was born.

Delivery of their little girl went easier than with their son. But whereas their boy came out crying, their daughter came out silent.

Azriel knew something was wrong just by the silence, but it only grew the anxiety in his stomach when the doctor turned her back on them, taking their little one with her to work on.

“She’s not crying,” Elain breathed, worry clouding her voice.

He could only squeeze her shoulders in comfort, watching as they shoved things into her nose and mouth.

“Suction,” Chen ordered.

“Azriel, why isn’t she crying?”

“She’s going to be okay, love. They’re helping her. She’s okay.” The words passed his lips even as his heart dropped into his stomach when they started doing compressions on her tiny body.

No.

This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lose her. It would kill him to lose his little girl, but Elain, fuck, he couldn’t even begin to fathom the devastation she would face at this loss. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pay to fix this or threaten someone to save their baby girl.

So, he did what any father would do.

He prayed.

He prayed to every god, every deity, everything, and anything he could think of to keep his little girl safe and bring her back to them. To take her place if they demanded it. A life for a life. He’d pay it for his child, his family. “Come on,” he murmured. “Come on, baby. Come on.”

Elain curved her face into the side of his chest, howling in a way he’d never heard from her before.

His arms went around her, that dreaded feeling turning his blood cold. The terror he felt of their little one dead before she lived was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But still, he did not stop praying, clutching Elain’s shaking body to his. “Come on, little one. Come on!” he chanted. “Please.”

And then, a rattled cough tore from her tiny body, followed by the sweet, beautiful sound of her cry.

Elain’s wail turned into relieved sobs, as the doctor walked over their bundled little girl and placed her into his wife’s awaiting arms.

“Somebody was just so excited to meet you, she took a breath a little too early, but we cleared out her passages and lungs and she looks good now.”

His wife tucked their daughter into her chest, kissing the top of her head. “Hi sweet girl, Momma’s here,” she whispered, tears still falling down her cheeks. Tears that matched the ones running down his face.

She was here. His baby girl. Fuck, she looked just like him, with dark hair and tanned skin. He hadn’t gotten a look at her eyes yet, but already she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here you go, Mr. Archeron-Knight,” one of the other nurses said, pulling his attention from his wife and daughter as she handed him his son, cleaned up and wrapped in a soft blanket.

The small bundle was gently laid in the crook of his elbow. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever feel the amount of love he did on Kaden’s adoption day, but sitting here with his gorgeous wife, holding their newborn twins, he felt his heart soar in his chest.

Sweaty and fatigued, Elain glanced up at his face, the sweetest, exhausted smile pulling on her lips. “I love you,” she murmured.

He let out a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a sob. “I love you more.” And then he kissed her, sealing that moment in time with his undying love for her.

~~~~~

Elain woke to the sound of a whimpering cry, swiftly followed by Azriel’s low voice.

“Hey, sweet girl. What’s wrong, huh?” She heard some shuffling as her husband lifted their daughter from the nursery bed. “Momma needs her sleep so we need to be quiet.” He kept his voice low enough to not disturb her—fuck she loved him so much—but she was already awake, rolling over in the hospital bed to face him.

Azriel holding his children was, hands down, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. How she could even feel the need for him after pushing two babies out of her currently aching and severely injured body was beyond her, but just watching him bounce their fussing daughter made all those desires come roaring to the surface.

Almost as if he could sense her presence, hazel eyes slid to hers. “I’ve got her, love. Go back to sleep.” His voice remained soft as night as if anything louder would disturb her.

She curled up on her side, watching him. “I think we should get used to no sleep now.”

He huffed a laugh, patting Rosalie on her back as she further settled into the crook of his elbow.

Their daughter was almost two pounds smaller than her brother, coming in right at five whereas Ryder was a healthy six pounds, fourteen ounces. The doctor was a little concerned over Rosalie’s lower birth weight, but Elain had managed to get both babies to latch and feed earlier and she ate well, so they were mainly playing it by ear.

Because of her smaller size, Azriel already placed an order for some preemie clothes and sent a photo of her with the twins to their siblings. They asked to give them a day to recuperate before coming to the hospital in the morning. After the scare with Rosalie, both she and Azriel wanted to take some time to spend with the babies. Plus, the medical team was in and out of their room, taking Rosalie for some additional tests just to be sure everything looked good.

It was just after seven that night, and they were settling in for the evening. Tired of hospital food, Azriel ordered hamburgers from DoorDash for them to eat. Elain was starving and it sounded so good that she drooled when she suggested it to him. Both babies had been fed only an hour earlier and she anticipated not having another feeding till late evening or early morning.

Elain grabbed whatever sleep she could, knowing she’d need it when they were released in a couple of days, but she was sure Azriel hadn’t slept a wink since she’d gone into labor.

She pushed herself up, reclining on her pillows. The nurses cleaned her after the delivery and stitched her up from tearing, but Elain couldn’t wait to get home and take a proper shower. “Does she need to be changed?” she asked, nodding to the now-sleeping baby in her husband’s arms.

Azriel shook his head. “No, I think she was just fussing.” His dark hair was still mussed up from when he stripped out of his shirt earlier, taking time for skin-to-skin contact with each of the twins.

Elain had to rein in her laugh at how the nurse blushed as he revealed miles of gloriously tanned, tattooed skin and corded muscle. Her husband was a fine specimen, but he never flaunted it, so seeing another woman react to it was humorous especially since he didn’t even seem to notice her blushing, stammering state.

“You should sleep too, Az,” she said instead.

He looked at her, his lips curving up. It had been doing that a lot since the birth of the twins. The sweetest, smallest smile that crept up the corners of his mouth. Almost as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was utterly adorable and made him look younger. “I’ll rest later. You need it more than me.”

Her shoulders shook in amusement. “You know, we can sleep when they do.”

“I just don’t want to miss a second of them.” His attention returned to his little girl who already had him wrapped around her finger. To be fair, all of their children did. “Fuck, I can’t believe they’re here already. It seems like it was only a month ago you found out you were pregnant.”

“I can’t believe our first anniversary is coming up in just a handful of weeks.”

At that, he laughed. “I guess a trip for our anniversary is out of the question?”

She grinned. “Not unless all our little ones are coming with us.” Because like hell was she going to be able to leave them so soon. Plus with her nursing, it just wouldn’t be ideal.

He seemed to consider her. “We could take the jet to the Summer District. Kaden will be out of school then and we’ll both still be out on leave. Just a thought.”

Gods, he was fucking perfect. “That might be nice.”

A knock on the door interrupted whatever he was going to say. He frowned in confusion, looking at her.

Elain shrugged, sitting up further on her bed. “Come in,” she called out.

She thought it might be a nurse or a doctor, coming to check on her or the twins. What she didn’t expect was for Rhys to peek his head into the room. Surprise lit her features and she glanced at Azriel, who looked equally as bewildered at the sudden visit from their brother.

“Hey,” Rhys said. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced, but somebody really couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see you.” He opened the door slightly, revealing Kaden clutching a teddy bear, eyes puffy and red from crying.

Her heart ached at the distress their son must’ve been in for Rhys to come all the way here. “Hello sweetheart,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Come here, my love.”

He took a small step further into the room, Rhys’s hand guiding him at the backside of his head. Kaden took slow steps as he approached the side of her bed. “Momma, are you sick?”

She reached out to cup his cheek in her palm. “No, baby. I’m not sick. Your brother and sister decided it was time to come out of my tummy.” Her eyes found Azriel’s as he rose from his seat on the couch, moving toward them. “Would you like to meet them?” she asked, returning her gaze to Kaden’s.

His head dipped in confirmation.

Elain pushed herself back even more. “Rhys, can you help him up and then grab me that flat pillow over there.”

He set the boy on the bed between her spread legs, Kaden shuffling backward and bumping into her sensitive lower area.

She hissed out in pain before she could stop herself. A wave of agony washed over her with enough intensity that her stomach curdled with nausea.

Azriel reacted immediately. “Easy, buddy. Momma’s going to be sore for a while and we need to be extra careful with her.”

“I’m okay,” she spoke quickly, not wanting to upset Kaden any more than he already was, and kissed his plump cheek as she breathed through the pain. “Okay, Rhys. Place the pillow over our laps.”

Adjusting his arms in preparation, Azriel gently lowered their daughter until she comfortably rested on the nursing pillow.

“Kaden, this is your sister, Rosalie,” he announced, letting his finger stroke her rounded cheek.

Elain couldn’t see his face directly, but she did catch his eyes widening as he stared down at her, his fingers carefully tracing over her delicate features just as his father did.

“Rosawee,” he said, not quite catching the ending syllable. It would be something they would have to work on. When she kicked a leg within her swaddle, he pulled his hand back, startled.

She laughed, feeling the bed dip as Azriel sat down next to them, bringing over their son. “And this is your brother, Ryder.”

He reached out to trace the outline of his brows, the touch gentle and exploratory. “I’m a brother?” he asked, turning his head to look up at her.

“That’s right sweetheart. You’re their big brother, and they’re going to love you so much,” she told him, kissing the top of his head.

Elain took in her family, her incredible husband, and three beautiful children. It sounded so wild to even think about. She was a wife and a mother. Thinking back, she remembered the day that had changed the trajectory of her life forever. The bank robbery a few years back. It was crazy to think how such a terrifying moment altered her life in the best of ways. It brought her back to the love of her life.

It put her on this very path.

She’d face every one of the moments since then tenfold as long as it brought her to this point in time, sitting here with her gorgeous little family.

“Perfect.”

She looked up at Rhys, catching him with his phone out.

“Your first family photo.”

Her lips turned up and silver lined her eyes. “Thank you, Rhys.”

He waved her off. “Do you want me to take Kaden back with me?”

“No,” Azriel said, ruffling his eldest son’s hair. “He can stay here with us tonight. Can you put his booster seat in our car? The keys are in my bag.”

“You got it.” He grabbed the keys but paused on the threshold. “And congratulations you guys. Rosalie and Ryder are beautiful.”

Azriel leaned further into her side, kissing her temple. “Thank you, brother.” Once alone, he turned her head toward his, bringing her mouth to his for a slow, sweet kiss. “I love you so damn much, Elain.”

His smile was infectious, making her lips turn up at the corners. “Thank you, Azriel, for giving me this life—these babies. You have made me the happiest I could ever imagine. I love you.”

“Momma! She’s got my finger,” Kaden’s giggle interrupted their moment.

They laughed, looking at their three beautiful children.

Elain knew that this perfect moment was just the very beginning of the rest of their lives.

~~~~~

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[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

After you put in the quote about the reader and Duff being switches during the NNN fic with him, I need to see a subby Duff get rode into next week 🙏

A/n: I hope I brought justice to this prompt because I love subby men and I love Duff

Warnings: Smut, sub Duff, dom reader, dacryphilia, bondage, mommy kink, praise kink, if you think I missed something please let me know otherwise enjoy!

Duff was tied to the bed, all splayed out for you as you pumped his dick up at a painfully slow pace. His cheeks were already wet with tears that seeped into the pillow under his head. He was a whining, crying mess in your hands.

“What a sweet thing you are.” You praised, giving the head of his cock and light kiss. “All needy for me, all because of a little teasing.” You gave his tip a few kitten licks before taking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.

“Please, please, just fuck me, please!” He cried, kicking slightly even though his ankles were tied. You pulled off his cock, letting go with a pop.

“Yeah? Wanna cum that bad?” Duff nodded, another whimper leaving him. “Alright, since you’ve been good I’ll give you what you want.” You moved to straddle his lap, lining your hole up with his member and slowly sinking down onto him. “Now, since you wanted this, you have to give the orders, understand?” He nodded again but didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Can-can you move? Please? Please move.” He pleaded, looking up at you with wet puppy eyes. You smiled at him and did as he asked, starting to rock your hips on him. This seemed to satisfy him but only partially. “Go faster, please, please! Go faster.” More tears started to leave his eyes which only fueled your ego.

You did as he asked and went faster. Much faster. Bouncing up and down on his cock, which made a prominent bump in your abdomen as per usual. Duff cried out for you, squirming around as much as he could with his restraints. You only laughed at him and kept going, focusing more on your pleasure than his. “No, no! Can’t-can’t take it, please! Please, mommy, be nice, please!” He begged.

“Thought you wanted this?” You asked with a small pout, a fake one of course. You stopped completely to look down at him. “Should we just get dressed and go to bed then?” Duff shook his head.

“No! No, please, need this, need this so bad!” You smiled down at him and got going again, this time a much better speed for him. It wasn’t excruciatingly slow but it wasn’t so fast it hurt. There was a sweet spot somewhere in there that had him moaning so beautifully. “Fuck~ thank you, thank you so much.” He said with a goofy grin. “Ngh- ‘m gonna- cum.” He mumbled.

You kept at that pace, letting him reach his high after all the teasing he went through to get to it. You felt his hot seed hitting your walls and you kept going to let him ride out his high... then you kept going even after.

He was whining again, words slurring together as he pleaded for you to stop and wait for him to catch his breath. “Huh? What was that?” You asked with an innocent expression. “Can’t hear you baby, you gotta speak up.” You started going faster and it didn’t take much for him to start squirming again.

You were bouncing on him and laughing at his reaction to overstimulation. “Fuck, gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.” You said, tracing a hand down his torso. You noticed his movements were getting more aggressive but didn’t think too much of it until his hand hit your ass and you realised the ropes were coming undone.

You scrambled to fix it but it was already too late and Duff was soon free to do as he pleased. Of course he was still all sensitive but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still bigger and stronger than you.

The blonde flipped you onto your back, gripping your shoulders tightly as he bit into your neck to silence the whines that wouldn’t stop leaving him. He desperately bucked into you, a thumb rubbing your clit and soon your eyes were rolling back into your head and you were cumming on him. Your back arched and your nails dug into his back as you moaned out his name.

With your cunt squeezing him as you came it wasn’t long before he was cumming again. He cried against you, the sound was so loud and whiny you wondered if he truly was ok.

When he was done he rolled off you and curled up into your side, resting his head on your chest. He took your hand and gave it a soft kiss with his bruised lips. You started playing with his hair and he soon calmed down to quiet sniffles every now and then.

“I love you, mommy.” Duff mumbled, still holding your hand to his lips. You chuckled softly and kissed the top of his head.

“I love you more, Duffy.” You whispered back. “Such a good boy, you know that?” He nodded softly. You saw his eyes were closed and he was almost asleep. “Did so good for me tonight.” You wanted to make sure he fell asleep knowing he was loved so you kept praising him and playing with his hair until you heard his soft snoring.

[bitethedevil]

NSFW Raphael Headcanon: Ownership and Alienation

(It’s another Raphael headcanon, my dudes. It’s about themes that I have also explored in my fic ‘The Devil’s Dinner Party’ that I wrote recently, and which inspired this headcanon ʸᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵐᵉ ˢʰᵃᵐᵉˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᵃᵈᵛᵉʳᵗⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ᵒʷⁿ ᶠⁱᶜ, ˢᵘᵉ ᵐᵉ. I think Raphael would 100% alienate someone he wanted simply to redirect their full attention to him and, more importantly, to make them more dependent on him. My thoughts turn to the plaque in his archive that says something along the lines of “Turn your attentions toward to higher things. Turn them towards to me”. Raphael does not only want to own you, he also wants to be the center of your universe.)

TW: Abusive and manipulative relationships.

Raphael would make it into a sport to alienate you from all of your loved ones. Your friends, your family, your allies…And if you already have a partner whom you love very much? Oh, even better.

He would start small when it came to spreading chaos within your relationship. He would insist on meeting alone with you whenever you were with others, so that they would wonder about what was happening behind closed doors. He would make sure to be close to you whenever you met, so that you would smell of him when you returned to your partner. His greetings had started out as a kiss on your hand, and it had now evolved to a kiss on each cheek every time you saw each other. You naively let him go one step further with you each time, because you saw it as simple cordiality.

Raphael would plant doubt in your mind by using everything you ever revealed to him to his advantage. He would speak directly to all your insecurities. Because your partner seems like such a good person, why would they ever want to be with you? Would they really love you if they knew about all the terrible things you have done? They are not like him, of course, who would embrace it all with open arms. He who would accept all of you, sins and all.

He keeps going one step further with you and then one step further again. Had you asked him to stop or told him that he made you uncomfortable, he would comply…but you never did, did you? During one of your meetings, his arms wrap around your waist and he trails kisses up your neck. By the time he whispers in your ear ‘do you want me to stop, sweet mouse?’, you are already too wrapped up in it to tell him ‘no’.

When he finally lures you into his bed, he is not gentle with you. His brutality in the way he takes you is a stark contrast to the gentle and caring lovemaking you have been used to with your partner.

He would cruelly transform into his devil form without warning while inside you, leaving you to yelp and grasp the sheets as your body struggles to accommodate his size. His claws dig into your hips and his sharp teeth leave bloody marks all over your body. The scariest thought is that despite the brutality that is making your entire body ache, the sheer strength of his cambion form reminds you that he is being gentle with you. He could break you with ease if he so pleased.

He makes sure that you cannot move. His hands and tail are gripping around you tightly, making sure you are locked into place and spread open for him while he fucks you without mercy. Occasionally he moves a hand to pull your hair to force you to look at him, or he moves it to grip around your neck to leave you gasping for air.

Your body hurts, but it is also intoxicating. It should all be too much for you, but to your great shame, you find it arousing…cathartic even, to be treated how you think you deserve to be treated. A fact that Raphael is well-aware of and using to his advantage.

When he is done with you, your body has been painted red, blue, and purple. Scars, bruises, bite-marks…all part of the morbid painting Raphael has created on your body with his teeth and claws. While you can barely move from the aftermath of his brutal treatment, he admires his handiwork and the underlying meaning of the motif: His.

It is almost as good as the expression on your face, now that you have come down from your high. Raphael has successfully proven to you that what he was saying was right: You are a bad person. He sees the self-loathing, guilt, and regret starting to show in your eyes and he is feasting on it. The exact same feelings that will inevitably turn you towards him, and only him, once your partner sees the marks Raphael has left and leaves you.

Raphael will gladly remind you of his little lessons over and over again, should you ever forget: You are not a good person, you don’t deserve love, and no one but him will ever accept you for it.

[plantboiart]

Assigning. Greek gods to jrwi pcs. Because special interests go brr

(Clarification for nobody: gods that i think just like. Fit them. Their vibes. Some of these are more obvious than others in their reasonings. Some barely have any reasonings. I’m just in a fun mood.)

Gillion: poseidon would be the easy choice. But. No. Selene. The goddess of the moon. Because moon mom :)

Jay: there’s a lot of good contenders i think. But to me its definitely either artemis or apollo. Both are archers, artemis obviously has the whole huntress thing which fits with her being a ranger, while apollo has the sun thing (lets not get into that convo rn) and prophesies which obviously works with every riptide pc, honestly not sure which one i would go with

Chip: hermes!! God of travelers and thieves and all that fun stuff so perfect for our pirate boy. Also a trickster, and his job as a psycophomp works with the like. Chips connection to the hole in the sea and all that fun mystery stuff

William: the wispy boy himself… now you might be tempted to say hades or thanatos because. You know. Death. But no. Dionysus. Especially in season two. I mean hes the god of madness! The greyscale arc!! Also he’s got his whole weird rebirth thing going on with his mom dying and zeus having to carry the pregnancy to term and all that stuff (id recommend watching overly sarcastic production’s video on dionysus its very interesting)

Dakota: now running into the problem of almost none of the greek gods and goddesses being explicitly heroic. However i have found a fitting answer: Prometheus. Stealing fire for humanity and just the overall care for people? Pretty fitting i think

Vyncent: Athena is a pretty good fit i would say! Clearly capable in battle, he is actually pretty smart once you get past the whole ‘from another world and therefore has no idea how things work’ thing, and just. Idk. Vibes!

Thanatos: well. Uh. Thanatos..? But also i feel like either Zeus or Kronos could fit since they both did the whole overthrowing gods thing! Idk really

Peter: PSYCHE. So immediately psyche. A human who became a goddess, was brought back from the dead by her lover, the goddess of the human soul?? She’s perfect for peter

Rumi: working off of peter! Eros! God of love brought psyche back from the dead just wow now i kinda wanna write a fic thats just the myth of psyche and eros but its peter and rumi instead

Rolan: kinda feel like hades is a good fit. Generally just a chill guy who also just so happens to be the god of the underworld and so people just kinda. Assume hes a bad guy. Rolan is just a chill lawyer who also just so happens to be a bug monster

Kian: now sure i could go apollo because music and blah blah blah or i could go persephone to satiate my shipper brain but. Aphrodite. Goddess of beauty, love, and sexuality? Being a rockstar is just the front he puts on, but beyond that his entire thing is just love. And since eros already went to Rumi Kian gets his mom (sometimes) instead ((also im biased because kian is my fave and i worship aphrodite lol))

Rand: Rand could definitely also have Dionysus but Will already got that so instead! Demeter. Both because Rand obviously has the whole plant thing (yes its a weed plant but its still a plant) and also losing those he loves and then holing up inside and refusing to do anything until he gets them back… rand absolutely would let the entire world starve because he was upset if he had the power to do so

Now for the suckening please keep in mind that im not actually caught up on the series, im still in the like first hour of episode 11 because i am bad at listening to things. But.

Emizel: Ares! Good fighter? Check. Very aggressive? Check. Uh. Honestly idk too much about Ares. But well i still think it fits

Shilo: Persephone. Sweet pretty spring goddess? Yes. Also the queen of the underworld and definitely terrifying if you anger her? Also yes. Fits shilo’s whole ‘oh im just a small innocent boy whos never done anything wrong anyways let me shh this person so they cant scream while theyre being diseccted’

Arthur: …i somehow genuinely cant think of anything. Uh. If anyone has suggestions please tell me? My brain just stopped working

[yinyuedijun]

okay maybe i’m toxic or didn’t pick up the hints but can you maybe elaborate more on what makes the readers behavior w aventurine manipulative? bc i feel like lwk i would do the same but i didn’t realize it was bad behavior 😭😭😭 like if he was saying stuff in his sleep i didn’t understand i would totally try to translate it 😭😭 and how they know he might not be comfortable w doing some things like teaching them avgin but asking anyway i took it as a bid for connection almost?? IDK im just gobsmacked bc i totally thought i was a healthy secure individual but if this is toxic behavior maybe im not 😭😭

FKDJSAKSHJA I won't lie anon I love getting chonky questions about my fics so thank you for reaching out about your confusion with this particular subject . in your defense I understand why it might be confusing on a first read because it IS fundamentally a story about two lovers wanting connection. the catch is that they are too messed up to actually achieve it in a mutual manner 😞

SADLY I must write an essay about this because I'm unbearable. but before I do I'd like to share screenshots from a couple of my readers (SHOUTOUT TO LEEHI ANON AND MIN !) that explains it succinctly

okay now my unbearable essay

so basically. I think the mc's first weird thing that they did was wanting to know what aventurine was saying in his sleep and not just asking him LMFAOOO instead they fucking went about learning it in a roundabout way, without his permission, and just did not care about his boundaries gkdhdsldhsmsj

but while that is whack dishonest behaviour, the real crux of the manipulation in this dynamic is that the reader gave the impression to aventurine that he would be able to understand them better via language exchange, but they set him up for failure in this regard. from the outset, they had no intention of revealing anything about their inner world to him because they planned to deceive him in their native tongue. on the other hand, through learning aventurine's mother tongue, they are able to access a deeply vulnerable part of him. and they do it without him knowing.

so they use this knowledge of his mother tongue and his weakness to it to manipulate him into treating them better: crying in it to gain his pity (just as they did with their captors) and asking for gestures of affection using his language because they know he can't say no. they can use his first language to control him, but aventurine cannot do the same. it's very one-sided.

but as you said, it's ultimately a bid for connection. and they resort to this behaviour to achieve connection because, put frankly, aventurine has already created a one-sided dynamic where he has killed any potential for true connection. like tl;dr he really does treat them like garbage 😭😭😭 the mc just got kinda tired of that and wanted to girlboss him back so that he'd be actually affectionate to them. though they also just want to find a way to make him happy.

ANYWAY SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG.... thank you for reading my fic . I appreciate you so much!!!!!!

[zorosprincess]

Betrayal

PAIRING - Miya Osamu x Reader WC - 1.4K GENRE - Light Angst not really Crack Fic lbr CW - mentions of cheating

"I'm sorry."

It was a whisper, a pathetic sentiment at the moment.

"Osamu, please, I'm sorry."

There was nothing else you could say. You knew that. You couldn't even look at his face. You looked anywhere you could besides him. Your fingers pulled lightly at a loose thread on the sleeve of your sleep shirt, the loose shirt that belonged to the man you currently couldn't look in the eye.

"S'that all ya have t'say?" The betrayed tone bled through Osamu's voice as he leaned against the wall across from you.

You were suddenly extremely aware of how uncomfortable your couch was in this moment. You averted your eyes again, focusing on the coffee table in front of you now. It was a pretty glass top one that Osamu and you had picked out together your first month in your little apartment together.

You almost smiled as you remembered how happy you and Osamu had been to decorate your apartment together. You didn't because you remembered that you were about to be in one of the biggest fights you'd ever been in with each other.

And it was your fault.

"What else am I supposed to say 'Samu?" There was nothing you could say.

"I didn't mean to?" You did mean to.

"I didn't know what I was doing?" You knew exactly what you were doing and how much it would hurt him if he found out.

"I didn't do it?" You both knew that wasn't true. You had been caught red-handed. He had walked into the room in the middle of it.

You sighed and hung your head again. Your eyes trained on the decorative rug under your feet. You slowly traced the design with your toe as you waited for him to respond.

"How could ya do that t'me?" His voice was soft and if you didn't know better you'd say he was about to cry. But you knew better and you knew that if Osamu was arguing with you and was going to cry, he'd wait until you weren't there. Thinking that crying would only make you feel worse. You could say that this time, you might deserve to feel worse than you already were. But he was always thinking about you. Even now. "I thought ya loved me y/n."

Your head shot up then, eyes connecting with his. His eyes were filled with genuine hurt and you could feel your heartstrings slowly snapping. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, his muscles tensed and if the situation was different, you would have been simply admiring how absolutely attractive he was and how lucky you were to have him around. Instead- "I do love you!" You shouted, unintentionally being louder than you meant. You quieted yourself. He didn't deserve to be yelled at. "I love you so much Osamu."

He scoffed a little bit, turning his head to look away from you. "Ya love me so much." He drew out the 'so' and you flinched a little bit at the sarcasm in his voice. Tone biting into you. "That's why ya went and betrayed me like this!" His arm flung out and pointed towards the evidence of your betrayal as he yelled. You bit your lip, shame filling you. "If ya loved me ya wouldn'ta done it!"

"I'm sorry 'Samu!" You shouted back, losing your calm composure. "I don't know what I was thinking!" You sniffed a bit and gestured randomly as you continued. "You just weren't around! And it had been so long!" You threw your head back and groaned lightly, shifting your volume back down. "I don't know, I just couldn't wait anymore. I'm sorry 'Samu."

You lifted your eyes back to meet his as he looked at you incredulously. "Are ya kiddin' me!?" He was pissed now and you almost regretted your outburst. Almost. "Ya couldn't wait!? That's yer reason fer betrayin' my trust!" He laughed then, not a happy one that filled you with joy, not like the usual way he did. A bark of a laugh, one filled with irritation and sarcasm. "This is the last straw y/n! We're done!"

Your jaw dropped then. Amazed at the words that had just come out of the mouth of the man you swore you loved more than anything. "You're joking." He shook his head and crossed his arms again, looking away from you. You groaned in irritation. "You're being dramatic Osamu!" You were shouting without regret now. "It's not that big of a deal!"

"Dramatic!?" He looked back at you, jaw dropped. "Ya cheated on me!"

You rolled your eyes then, the last bits of your apologies draining. "I did not cheat on you!" You defended yourself to him.

"Ya betrayed me!" He shouted back, flinging his arms around to emphasize his point.

You ran your hands over your face in exasperation. "Now you're just actin' like 'Tsumu." You dug at him and watched as his jaw dropped at you. If he wasn't betrayed before, he surely was now.

"How dare-"

You cut him off. "It was just food, 'Samu! I'm sorry!" You went to stand from your position on the couch finally, taking a step towards him.

He stopped leaning against the wall in order to step away from you. That hurt. "Just food! I wake up 'spectin' to see my beautiful girl cuddled with me and 'stead find ya out here eatin' without me!"

"I tried to wait for you!" You raised your voice again. "You were the one not waking up! I thought I could get away with it before you woke up!"

"Ya thought ya could get away with it!?" You cringed as he mimicked back your choice of words, a bad choice. He pointed back to the evidence of your betrayal - an empty take out bag that you had door dashed to your apartment with the instructions to not knock and only text so that you wouldn't risk waking Osamu. "Didn't even think to get me somethin'!?"

"I'm sorry! Let me make it up to you please." You lowered your voice and he let you step closer. "I'll buy you whatever food you want from wherever you choose for the rest of the day." You could see his body visibly relax a little as he started to calm down.

You looked up at him and tapped on his collarbone lightly, trying to get him to look down at you and stop looking over your head to avoid you and your remorseful stare. "Forgive me baby?" He grumbled as you leaned up on your toes and pressed a kiss to the base of his throat, your usual indicator that you wanted him to lean down for a real kiss.

"Three days." He bartered with you, finally looking down and catching your gaze.

You hummed in thought before shaking your head. "Two. Take it or leave it."

"Fine." He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer at last. "You drive me crazy." He mumbled the half-hearted insult and pressed a soft kiss against your lips before releasing you.

Now that you two were done arguing, you could take a moment to appreciate the way he looked as he stepped back. Shirtless (stolen by your form) with his sweats hanging low on his hips, hair still messy from sleep. You smiled as you caught his eyes linger on your bare thighs, right where his shirt ended. He only rolled his eyes and turned away when he realized that he'd been caught.

"So, are we okay now?" You sing-songed as he started to walk back to your bedroom.

"You're still y/n for the next two hours." He threw back over his shoulder. "You don't get to be called Angel yet."

It was your turn to have your jaw drop in shock. "You never deny me of cute nicknames! You can't do that!" You scrambled to follow after him, not being able to see the smirk creeping onto his lips at your reaction.

"Ya compared me t'Tsumu." He wasn't honestly mad about it anymore, but he would be lying if he said he didn't find it cute to watch you pout at not being called by your usual nickname. He'd ;et you off the hook later, and make up for it at length.

"I said I was sorry!"

a/n a rewrite of my first ever fic <33 i still love her

[anonymouse5]

could you do a james potter X misophonia!reader

i have misophonia and have been struggling recently due to it,

if your not sure on what it is it’s where certain sounds trigger you, for example eating or pens tapping. Maybe a fic where he comfort her, normally when i’m triggered i either end up crying and walking away form the situation or i flip out at whoever is triggering me

ITS okay if not !! THANKYOU BBY

hey, sorry this took me so long to get to! writing this was an interesting experience. not sure if i want to do reader fics often but i'm not fully opposed to them either? anyway, i hope this brings you some comfort and is accurate(ish?) to your experience :)) sending lots of love <3

(feel free to send more requests if you like this!) (also feel free to send feedback!)

here you go:

Hogwarts had been busier than usual today. If you had been at home, maybe you would’ve just slipped on some noise cancelling headphones. But that isn’t really an option here, so you deal with it the best you can, hiding it out in your dorm on most days. Again, not an option today. You had way too many classes and clubs to go to. In the few minutes between, you go to the library. It literally has to be quiet there, right?

Of course, this is the one day James Potter and his friends finally decide to study (for once in their lives). You’re friends with Remus, and he seems alright. James— well, you try not to think too much about James. Thankfully, they aren’t making much noise, probably already having gotten a warning from Madam Pince.

It’s alright for a few minutes. But then you hear someone’s wand—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You look over to the boys’ table. James, looking extremely focused, is tapping his wand on the edge of the table. He does look really busy. Maybe he’ll quit in a minute.

Nope. It just gets worse.

You feel a pressure in your head every time he taps his wand until it gets overwhelming. And then you snap.

“James, would you stop that?” you whisper-shout at him.

But you know it’s useless. You can’t study anymore anyway; you’re too overwhelmed. You pack your things and leave. You don’t notice James following after you until you’re outside the library and hear him shout after you.

“Wait,” he calls.

Despite yourself, you turn to him.

“Did I do something wrong?” James asks.

You bite back your immediate “yes”.

“The tapping was bothering me. It’s not your fault, though. I just—” you trail off, afraid he’ll laugh at you.

He’s got this weird look on his face, like he might.

“Remus hates it when I ‘chew loudly’,” James says. “Is it like that?”

“I guess? Listen, James, I just really want to be left alone right now.” You sigh.

“Ok, but before you leave— I think I might have a spell for you. We can go somewhere quieter?” James offers.

Reluctantly, you agree. James takes you to a spot on the Hogwarts grounds you haven’t seen yet. It’s a nice spot beneath a tree, with just bare grass and flowers blooming. You both sit down, and James points his wand at you.

“Woah, what’re you doing?” you shout.

“Just trust me,” James says.

You almost point out the obvious dangers of pointing a wand at someone’s head, but James seems so sincere and like maybe he’s done this before, so you let him.

He mumbles a spell and waves his wand in an unfamiliar pattern. Suddenly, it feels like your wearing your favorite noise-cancelling headphones, but so much better. You can’t even hear the light buzzing that you normally do.

“You have to teach me this spell,” you say enthusiastically.

The spell makes it a whisper to you, but the way James scrunches up his face tells you that maybe you were a bit loud.

“It worked then?” he asks.

You give him a thumbs up.

He takes out a piece of parchment and a quill and writes something down:

You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?

There’s two checkboxes underneath: yes or YES

You smile and check the YES box, adding a smiley face next to it.

The two of you sit at the peaceful spot until the sun starts to go down. You start to come with him here often, and he teaches you the spell right after your Hogsmeade date.

[cupofjeon]

Lion’s Den [✓]

↳ Summary: You should have seen the warning signs. It’s been there since the day Jungkook started showing his more than friends affection towards you. Hindsight is, indeed, twenty-twenty, and now you’re reaping the false belief you sowed about the man you once loved. By the time your rose-colored glasses shattered, it was too late. You’ve already entered the lion’s den. 

↳ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer!Fem!Reader

↳ Genre: Yandere | ↳ Type of fic: Oneshot (Completed) ✓

↳ Disclaimer: The story below the cut is fictitious only. It does not depict Jungkook or any of the other idols mentioned and featured in this story in real life. The author does not condone this type of behavior. Minors do not interact with this story. Ageless blogs will be blocked on the presumption that you are underaged.

↳ Warnings: Blackmailing, threats, NONCON: unprotected sex, slapping, marking, hair pulling, throat/face fucking, finger fucking, pussy eating, manipulation, forced marriage, physical assault, violence, murder, mention of attempted suicide, graphic depiction of abusive behaviors and relationship. 

↳ Total Word Count: 12,380

↳ Taglist: @looneybleus @iveivory @jjk174 @kissyfacekoo @sweetempathprunetree @minchedchilli @jiminismine4ever (If you cannot see the story, please change your settings and allow mature content to be displayed.)

━━ “Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is.”

You slam the envelope in your hand on the counter in front of your ex-boyfriend, nose flaring and eyes narrowed as you look at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Why the hell are you doing this?” 

Jeon Jungkook stares at you impassively. “I warned you, didn’t I? Stop with all these playing hard to get nonsense or you’ll face severe consequences. You didn’t listen. Now, you’re going to need to face the consequences.” 

You stare at him in utter disbelief, mouth agape as you shake your head. “I’m not playing hard to get, Jungkook. We’re over. Why can’t you get that through your fucking head? Are you insane?!” 

Your chest rises heavily as your hands curl into fists. Jungkook’s lips curl into a lopsided smirk as he spreads his arms on the counter, holding onto the edges to lean in towards you. “I’m the one who gets to decide whether we’re over or not, baby. And I’m telling you—we’re far from it. So, what is it going to be? Are you going to continue being stubborn, or should I send these photos of your brother smoking marijuana and drinking to the media?” 

You clench your jaw, knuckles turning white the more his words echo in your mind. Then, your shoulders fall as you furrow your eyebrows and adjust the red oval shaped spectacles on the bridge of your nose. “Why are you doing this, Jungkook? This isn’t you.” 

He pokes his cheek with his tongue before sighing deeply and running his fingers through his long curly dark hair. “Of course this is me, baby. What are you talking about? It���s always been me.” 

“You’re sick, Jeon Jungkook,” you say. “This isn’t how you treat someone you claim to love. Jungwon—he loves you and he looks up to you. He sees you as his hyung and you betray him like this? What kind of a sick monster are you?” 

“You made me do this,” Jungkook hisses, walking towards you. Instinctively, you walk away from him, but he’s quick to grab your arm tightly and pull you close to him. “If you just stayed, none of these would have ever happened. But you left me, Y/N. You left me when I begged you on my fucking knees to stay. You did this to Jungwon, not me.” 

You try to pull away from him but Jungkook’s grip tightens. He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed deeply, those soft doe eyes you loved so much holding nothing but coldness and darkness now. “Let me go. Let me fucking go, Jungkook, or I swear to God—,” 

“You’ll what? You’re going to report me to the police? To Hybe? Expose me to the media and online?” Jungkook scoffs, grabbing your face with his free hand to keep your eyes locked with his. “Nobody is going to believe you, Y/N. Who do you think you are compared to me? You’re nothing and you have no one. All you have is me.” 

You hate that he is speaking the truth. In front of everybody, Jungkook is a goddamn angel sent from above. He’s the golden maknae. He’s someone who has never changed despite the achievements he received at such a young age. He’s a philanthropist who supports various causes worldwide and donates regularly to different charities. 

A salt of the earth kind of guy, humble, polite, kind, respectful, gentleman, a walking green flag—these are his personas for everyone to see. And he’s been playing these roles goddamn well over the past decade of his career. 

Even if you report, no one is going to believe you because he’s Jeon Jungkook. 

“I hate you,” you tell him. “I hate you with every fiber of my being. I regret ever meeting you. I wish I never met you.” 

His upper lip twitches with your words. Then, he smirks. “Well, I guess you’ve made your choice then. You can carry the burden of knowing you’re responsible for the death of your brother’s career, Y/N.” 

He lets you and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Your heart races as he types something. Quickly, you hold onto his arms. “No, wait! Please don’t do this, Jungkook. Don’t do this to Jungwon, please.” 

“Let go of my arm, Y/N. I’m not going to ask again,” he says through gritted teeth. 

You only hold on tighter. “Jungkook, please. I’m—,” you can’t say it. You can’t say it. But he’s giving you no option. You have to. “I’m sorry, please. Jungkook, not Jungwon. Not my brother.” 

“Prove it,” he tells you. 

You look up at him. “What?” 

“Prove to me just how sorry you are, Y/N. Then I might reconsider sending these photos to the authorities.” 

You feel your head spinning. Your breathing becomes ragged as the anxiety builds up inside you. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening. You repeat these like a mantra as you open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. 

Jungkook pushes you off him. “I’m done waiting around.” 

He turns his back on you, pressing his phone against his ear as he walks away from you. Your instincts take over and you catch up to him, pulling him by his shoulders and crashing your lips against his. The coldness of his lip ring makes you shiver, but it’s nothing compared to when Jungkook smirks against the kiss and returns it with much fervor and ferocity. He drops his phone on the floor as he holds your face in his big hands, tilting his head for better access. 

There is no going back now. You have crossed the line. You have sealed your fate. You hold onto his shirt as you feel tears burning your eyes. You just want this to be over with. 

“Bend over the counter,” he says, pulling away from the kiss as he starts to unbutton his jeans. 

“Jungkook—,” you begin to say. Then, you feel a stinging pain on your cheek. Eyes wide in shock, you feel tears forming in your eyes at the realization of what just occurred. 

“I didn’t ask. Bend over the fucking counter, bitch,” he hisses. 

Covered in fear, you make your way to the island countertop, embracing yourself from the inevitable. Jungkook pushes you against it, ripping your blouse apart; buttons flying everywhere in the kitchen. He only smirks at your terrified state. 

He unclasps your bra, groping your breasts with his veiny hands before ordering you to unbutton your pants. Once your pants are pooled around your ankles, Jungkook commands you to turn around and he forcefully pushes you on the cold marble top. Your glasses are positioned awkwardly but you don’t have time to take them off because Jungkook suddenly penetrates you, making you scream in pain. 

“Yeah, fuck, you’re so tight for a fucking slut,” Jungkook groans as he thrusts in you in a quick pace, not letting you adjust. He gathers your hair around his hand and pulls your head back as the pain of his sudden penetration soars through your whole body. “I missed fucking this cunt. My cunt.” 

All you can do is whimper with each thrust, tears rolling from your eyes. Jungkook pulls you to him, your back pressed against his toned chest and abs. His lips bite down the skin of your neck as he continues to thrust into you. He fondles your breast, squeezing it tight and pinching your nipples. 

Once he’s satisfied with the marks he left on your neck, he pushes you back down, grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back as he quickened his pace once more. The sound of your groans, his grunts, and your skin slapping against each other fill the kitchen. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck,” Jungkook pants and after a few more thrusts, he lets out a long moan as you feel the hot liquid rolling down your inner thigh. He pulls out his cock from your cunt and you lay on your chest against the counter while he pulls his boxers and pants up. Tears pool on the counter top. 

Then, Jungkook pulls you to his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’re mine. If you leave me again, I’m going to kill every single one of the people you care about—starting with Jungwon.” 

“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook asks, propping his elbow on the bed as he rests his head on his palm, looking at you. His fingers brush the strands of hair on your face then he tilts your head to face him by your chin. 

You grip the blanket covering your naked body tightly as you stare at him with half-lidded eyes. You don’t think you have the energy to talk; your throat is sore from Jungkook fucking your mouth without any care in the world and your entire body is sore and exhausted from being fucked and handled by the monster staring at you for hours. You just want to go home. Facing the other side, you pull the blanket more to cover your entire body, curling underneath. 

Jungkook, however, slides his arm under your body and the other over your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “You know you deserve this, Y/N. If you had just stayed, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t be so harsh. You needed to be punished for leaving me.” 

He’s insane—there is no more question about that. He’s a complete psychopath. The fact that he’s trying to justify his actions to you makes your skin crawl. 

“I told you when I was courting you that I will show you how devoted I am to you, right? We even made a song about it,” he has the audacity to chuckle as he explains his insanity. “Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is, remember?” He rests his chin on your shoulder. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and with your hoarse voice, you ask him, “Will you leave Jungwon alone now that you’ve punished me?” 

“It depends,” he tells you. “You betrayed me and my trust, Y/N. You’re not off the hook yet.” 

You bite your lower lip. “Jungkook, please. I don’t know what else you want me to do. You have me already. Can you please just give me your word that you’ll erase all copies of those photos and leave my brother alone? He doesn’t deserve any of this.” 

“Okay, I’ll make sure to erase everything on one condition,” he declares. “I want you to marry me.” 

Your body freezes under his embrace. “W-What?” 

“You heard me. Marry me and I’ll leave your brother alone.” 

You turn to face him, face contorted in disbelief and utter repulsion. He stares at you in all seriousness. “You’re a monster, Jeon Jungkook.” 

He smirks as he places a kiss on your lips. “Why don’t you sleep on it and come morning, you can tell me your answer.” 

Wearing a pair of washed jeans you left at his place before the break up and one of his T-shirts, you and Jungkook walk into the Hybe building, hand-in-hand, the next day. If everything was the same way as before, you would have smiled and proudly walked by his side, but now you keep your head as low as possible, conscious about everything especially the hickeys on your neck which you hide with your hair as the old concealer you also left at his place did not provide much help. You try quickening your pace, but Jungkook ensures to take short strides, which you know is to let everyone know that you are back together again. 

When you’re finally alone in the elevator, you try to take your hand back. However, Jungkook won’t let go. You sigh in frustration. “I’m not going anywhere, Jungkook. I have to work here the whole day. So are you. You can let me go now.” 

“You still haven’t told me your answer,” he says. “I hope you know by now that I’m not the type to wait around, Y/N.” 

“What you’re asking is too much. I can’t just marry you because you want me to,” you point out, clicking your tongue. 

The elevator doors open to the fifth floor where your studio is located. You and Jungkook step out and he walks you until you reach the studio. Yang Studio is engraved on the door behind you. Jungkook lets go of your hand (finally) and holds your face with both hands, placing a soft kiss on your lips. For a moment, a split second, it feels as though the man you fell in love with has come back, but when he pulls you away, he whispers against your lips, “I’ll wait until the end of the day for your answer. You know what will happen if you don’t give me any.” 

He pushes your glasses further up your nose bridge. You say, dejectedly, “I don’t have any choice. What do you need an answer for when you already know it?” 

“Because I wanna hear it from you,” he smiles. “I’ll see you later, baby. Don’t do anything stupid. I’m watching you.” 

With one final kiss, he walks away while you’re left with a heavy feeling in your chest as you enter your studio. At least, for the time being since yesterday, you are completely alone.  You don’t mind, however, and welcome the empty studio with open arms. 

Whenever you’re working, time flies by fast. Your focus is only on the songs you’re working on for the various groups at Hybe. Currently, you’re working on one of the B-side tracks for your brother’s group, Enhypen. It wouldn’t be the first time you worked with the relatively new group. You previously worked with them for their songs Fever and Shout Out which gained positive acclaim from their fans and the public as well. Due to this response, their label asked if you could produce another B-side and you agreed right away. 

You’re in the middle of mixing Bills, the song you were working on throughout the day, when you suddenly jumped at the feeling of something cold and wet pressing against your cheeks. When you look up, you see the familiar sight of your deranged ex-boyfriend Jungkook looking down at you with his famous bunny smile, holding takeout boxes from the cafeteria and a can of lemon-flavored drink. For a split second, you almost return the smile, like you always did before Jungkook showed his true colors. He just looked like the man you fell in love with. However, you’re quick to catch yourself from falling into the trap once again. 

You deduce that the can must be what was pressed on your cheek as Jungkook grabs an empty chair and places it beside you, sitting on it, and placing the boxes and drinks on the table.

“Your time’s up like fifteen minutes ago, but since I’ve had a good day, I’ll extend it until we finish eating,” Jungkook tells you as he opens one of the boxes and the smell of tangsuyuk fills your nostrils, making your stomach grumble in anticipation. 

You look at the time on your computer, 12:17 am. You haven’t even realized it’s past midnight already. You take your glasses off as you rub your eyes while Jungkook slides the box towards you then flicks the can of soft drink on the side, a trick he swore would make the drink less carbonated, before opening it and placing it beside the dish. How can he act so sweet one minute and then be cruel the next? You take the chopstick from his hand, pulling them apart, and shift on your seat as you begin to eat. 

“What are you working on?” he asks as he prepares his own meal. 

You chew and swallow your food before answering him, feeling the need to put your glasses so you do so. It’s a comfort thing, you suppose. “Song for Enha.” 

“Yeah? What is it called?” 

“Bills,” you tell him. He glances at you, giving you a knowing look. You understand what the look means. You sigh. “It’s a song about a break up, but it’s not about our break up.”

“Why? You didn’t want to write one ‘cos you know you’ll come back to me anyway?” Jungkook asks with a chuckle. 

“No, I didn’t write any songs about our break up because it wasn’t worth it,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders as you continue eating. Instinctively, you glance at him, and you see Jungkook looking at you with his jaw tensed. You hit a nerve—you hit more than just a nerve, but perhaps his entire ego, and nothing is more fragile than a man’s ego. 

A part of you swells in pride knowing you’ve hurt his ego, but the other part of you mentally scolds yourself for saying what you said. Jungkook is a ticking time bomb; the last thing you want is for him to explode. “Sorry,” you say, sucking your teeth. “Forget I said anything. Let’s just continue eating, please.” 

“How did you go from loving me to hating me, Y/N? I’ve done nothing but love you. Why did you suddenly leave me?” Jungkook asks, his tone indicating he’s hurt which takes you aback. 

Jungkook—the man who forced himself upon you last night, who slapped you, who threatened to kill your brother if you don’t oblige to his requests and blackmailed you—hurt? It gives you a whiplash just thinking about it. He’s fucking delusional, you conclude. 

“Jungkook, you changed,” you say. “You—,”

“Just because someone you love changed doesn’t mean you leave them,” he hisses. 

“You leave when they’ve changed for the worst, Jungkook, and you changed for the worst. You became controlling,” your breathing is ragged, but you swallow the lump in your throat as you continue your tirade. 

“At first, I let it go because I loved you and I’ve known you since we were fifteen and I know how possessive you can be, but I told myself it was just because you’ve always been insecure even when you had no reason to. Then, it escalated. Suddenly, you always wanted to check my phone, always wanting to be here at my studio or wherever I am when I’m working because you’re paranoid about the people I work with, dictating what I should and shouldn’t wear, and you disrespected my boundaries when I clearly established them with you especially in sex. You no longer see me as your girlfriend or even as Y/N, your friend before being your girlfriend; you treated me like I’m an object, like I’m your property.” 

“I did all those for you, Y/N. You didn’t see what I saw. Those people you work with—that fucking Jang Yijeong and Kim Woosung—it’s clear they want you. They practically eye fuck you every time you’re in the goddamn room! You’re my girlfriend. It’s only natural that I do everything to let them know you’re mine,” Jungkook reasons, shaking his head at your tirade. 

“They’re my co-workers, Jungkook! Yijeong, he’s like family to me now much like how Yoongi is because they taught me everything I know about songwriting and producing. And Woosung? He’s my friend. I’m allowed to have male friends.” 

“You’re so naive, baby, it frustrates me so much,” he scoffs, poking his cheek with his tongue as he narrows his gaze at you. 

“Tell me there’s a part of you that understands where I’m coming from,” you desperately say, but you’re met with the coldness of his eyes. You shut your eyes tightly. “Jungkook, I broke up with you because I finally saw you for who you truly are. You don’t love me; you want to own me.”

“I told you I’ll show you how devoted I am to you,” Jungkook quips, chuckling to himself. You shiver at his lighthearted disposition. “I love you, Y/N. It’s only right that I get to you all to myself because I’m all yours.” 

“You don’t own the people you love,” you say, sighing in resignation. “And you don’t threaten them and their loved ones with death and career ruining photos.” 

Jungkook spins your chair and pulls you close to him. He traps your thighs in between his as he cups your face with his strong veiny hands. “Baby, I’m the only loved one in your life that you should care about. Your brother—he’s old enough to fend for himself. You don’t need him anymore.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you ask, nose flaring. “He’s my family, Jungkook. He will always be my family.” 

“But he doesn’t need you anymore, Y/N. When was the last time you even talked to him? When was the last time he talked to you? All this time, you’re asking me to erase all photos of him drinking while underage in Vegas and smoking weed on top of that, but have you stopped to ask yourself: Why did Jungwon do it? Do you even really know your brother?” Jungkook caresses your cheek. 

You’re speechless. You haven’t thought about that. He smiles, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. He tastes like the tangsuyuk he also ordered for himself. “Why don’t you ask him why he did what he did?” 

“Jungwon would never do something illegal. For all I know, you fucking manipulated him in doing that shit to get back at me!” you slap his hands away from your face and you rise from your seat, pointing your finger at him. “I swear to God if I find out you manipulated him in doing it, I will—,” 

“I thought it was already established that nobody will believe you anyway. The police? I give a shit ton of money to that shitty force everyday. Hybe? Baby, I’m one of the reasons this company even exists. Media? Fans? The public? Who’s going to believe you over someone they’ve watched grow up right before their eyes? Who’s going to believe you over their golden maknae?” 

You clench your fists. “You’re not as powerful as you think. Get over your fucking self.” 

He smacks his lips. “We’ll see about that. Good night, my love.” 

Then, he simply leaves, with only the half-eaten tangsuyuk and unopened can of soft drink as remnants that Jeon Jungkook was even here. 

It’s been a while since the last time you saw Jungwon. His is longer and back to black which you thought suited him the best. He’s gotten taller too and the way he carries himself now is different than he used to before. Or maybe, he’s just forever the shy baby brother in your mind. You asked him to meet you at your apartment, telling him that you informed their manager beforehand but to let the two of you talk privately. 

His manager dropped him off at your place, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants, a navy blue hoodie, and white sneakers that he left by your doorway. 

“Why do you wanna meet at the crack of dawn, noona?” Jungwon asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

You go straight to the point. “You went drinking and smoked marijuana in Vegas.” 

He tenses, pressing his lips, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. Then, he clicks his tongue and sighs deeply. “I really didn’t want you to find out, but I’m guessing Jungkook hyung told you.” 

“Why didn’t you want me to find out?” you ask, pushing your glasses further up your nose bridge. 

“Why do you think, noona? You’re going to overreact, of course. It was just one time and it’s not like I’m the only one who does shit like that. Everyone does it too. Besides, Jungkook hyung already took care of it and Hybe too.” There is irritation in his voice and he doesn’t bother to hide it. 

This makes you angry. “Overreact? I’m entitled to overreact about this, Jungwon. Do you realize the weight of your actions? You are not allowed to drink in the States until you’re 21 and you’re certainly not allowed to smoke fucking marijuana because you’re Korean! The law still applies to you even when you’re abroad. It’s a crime for you to even be holding it, Jungwon. What the hell? Just because everyone else is doing it doesn’t mean you have to do it too!” 

“See, this is what I’m talking about. You know what, I’m not going to do this right now, noona. I have a busy schedule later and I’m—,” 

“No,” you snap. “You’re staying here and we are going to talk about this. You have to understand the weight of your actions, Jungwon. What you did can land you in jail. What you did can ruin your career and you will never be able to recover from it. All the hard work and sacrifices you made to be where you are now—all of that will go to waste because of this. This is serious. Why the hell did you do it?” 

Jungwon scoffs in disbelief, tilting his head to the side. “You know, you’ve done a pretty good job ignoring what I do in my personal life for the past couple of years, noona. Why the hell are you suddenly interested? Tell me, you’re not really worried about me, right? You’re about you and your fucking career.” 

“That’s not true. Jungwon, I’ve not been ignoring you. Are you fucking serious right now? I worked my ass off for years for you! Because we only got each other in this goddamn world! Because someone has to step up and raise you otherwise you’ll just rot in foster care. Someone has to be the grown up!” 

“Yeah? In your eyes, maybe. But have you stopped to look at it from my perspective? You made me feel like I was just some responsibility. I needed you to be my sister,” Jungwon clenches his jaw. “All those times you scolded me for not attending practices and taekwondo because I rather play with my friends, all those times you harshly critiqued me on my singing even when I know I did a good job but you didn’t want the others to see you favoring me, because you never thought I was enough, all those fucking times I came to you to tell you how hard it was being on that survival show, on being a trainee because you’re my sister and when you started dating Jungkook hyung—what did you do, noona?” 

You feel your throat tightening and your eyes burning with tears. All the memories of those times he listed running through your mind. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Jungwon laughs emptily. 

“You were supposed to tell me it’s fine I skip practices and taekwondo and play with my friends instead because it was so suffocating being in the practice studio all the time, you were supposed to tell me I did good when I did good and not hold back because you’re afraid of other people’s opinions of you, you were supposed to comfort me and tell me you might not understand what I’m going through but you believed in me because I’m your brother when I was on I-Land, and you were supposed to tell me first before anyone else that you’re dating my senior and not let me find out on the news. You were supposed to be my sister. Not my mother, not my producer. My sister.”

Both of you are crying, but Jungwon wipes his tears harshly with the sleeves of his hoodie. “You haven’t treated me like a brother for years. You don’t get to just decide on being a sister to me again because of this. You wanna know why I did it? It’s because I just wanna feel good even for one fucking second. I feel so fucking pressured to live up to your standards. I never—I never asked for any of this. I only became a trainee, became an idol because I thought, maybe, when I finally become one, you’ll finally notice me again. Maybe you’ll be proud to have me as your brother again. Maybe I’ll be good enough then for the great Yang Y/N.” 

Your heart shatters. You place your hands on your chest, a fresh set of hot tears streaming down your face. “Jungwon, I-I’ve always been proud of you. Always.”

He shakes his head. “No, you haven’t.” 

“I have,” you say, stepping closer to him but he backs away. “Jungwon, you’re my brother. I love you and I’m sorry I’ve not been the sister you needed. I don’t—,” you suck in a sharp shaky breath. “How can I make it up to you?” 

“I don’t know,” he breathes out. “But just—just leave me alone.” 

“Jungwon,” you call out but your brother’s already gone. 

You find yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s front door. The security at his high-rise, gated condominium community easily let you in, knowing you were the idol at the penthouse’s girlfriend and because Jungkook had already informed them to let you pass through whenever you visited. It’s 4:18 am on your phone, a little over an hour since your conversation with Jungwon. While you were crying on the floor of your apartment, you suddenly remembered the deadline—Jungkook’s deadline—and you got up immediately to go to his house. 

On the taxi ride to Jungkook’s, your mind replayed Jungwon’s words over and over again. 

You made me feel like I’m just some responsibility. I needed you to be my sister. I never wanted any of this. I feel so fucking pressured to live up to your standards. Maybe you’ll be proud to have me as your brother again. Maybe I’ll be good enough then for the great Yang Y/N. 

The heaviness you’re carrying in your chest is indescribable. The guilt of knowing you’re the reason he did those things and not because Jungkook or anyone else forced or manipulated him to—it’s intense. It’s you who caused this mess. It’s you who neglected your brother in the pursuit of making sure you stay together. 

That’s what you promised your grandmother before she passed away when you were fourteen, three years after your own parents died in a car accident on the way to celebrate their thirteenth wedding anniversary. You promised her that you wouldn’t let anyone separate the two of you so at just the young age of fourteen, you were forced to leave all childhood pursuits behind and grow up. Whenever you weren’t at school, you were working part-time jobs to sustain yours and Jungwon’s needs. You stayed with a distant aunt, but you were determined to be his legal guardian the moment you turned 18. 

So, when the opportunity for you to become a producer at BigHit at fifteen, you took it—packing everything in your hometown and moving to Seoul, temporarily leaving him. Then, at the age of thirteen, Jungwon moved to Seoul with you as a trainee. Looking back, you didn’t even stop to ask him if that was what he really wanted or if he even wanted to live in Seoul. You just took his word as it was and didn’t even question it. 

You ruined your brother’s life; you just hope there is still time for you to fix it. To make amends. To be his sister again. 

The familiar sound of his door unlocking rings in the silent hallway. Jungkook is the only one on this floor, given he lives at the very top of the building at the penthouse. You push the white door open, greeted by a corridor and an array of shoes and slippers on the shoe rack on the side. You take off your sneakers, place them neatly beside the rack and make your way down to the corridor to find Jungkook, his bare back facing you as he drinks something from his fridge. Black Calvin Klein boxers modestly cover his bottoms. 

“I know I’m late, but I’ll do it, Jungkook,” you say. “I’ll marry you.” 

“Like you said, you’re late. I already sent the photos to the Chief of the Seoul Police Department anonymously, of course,” Jungkook replies, turning to face you. He looks at you with disinterest in his eyes. “So you can leave now. You’ve made your choice and now you have to live with the consequences of it.” 

Your heart sinks in your stomach. “Are you—Are you serious? Did you really send the pictures to the police?” 

“You think I was bluffing the entire time?” Jungkook laughs. “You underestimate me, Y/N.” 

This can’t be happening. You walk towards him over the counter. “Jungkook, please, don’t. He’s just a kid. Prison won’t do him any good and fuck—the public. Please. He’s already going through enough as it is. Please don’t let him go through this.” 

“He’s twenty, Y/N. He knows what he’s doing,” Jungkook deadpans. “Leave. I’m sure you would want to be there once the police arrest Jungwon.” 

“Jungkook, please,” you hold his arm, pleading. “I’m sorry, okay? For breaking up with you, for leaving you, for not appreciating your love and devotion to me. I’m sorry for everything. Please—punish me instead, hm? Leave my brother alone. Please.” 

You don’t even know when you got on your knees while holding onto Jungkook’s arm and sobbing, head hanging low. “Please, Kook…” 

Jungkook turns to face you, causing your arms to fall on your side. He lifts your head by your chin with his index and middle fingers and you stare at him through your oval shaped spectacles. He wipes your tears with his thumbs then grazes one over your lips, making you taste the salty liquid. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re on your knees, begging, and crying, baby…” Jungkook trails, putting more pressure on your lips. “Things didn’t have to go this far if you just did everything I say, right?” 

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yes, you’re right.” 

His lips twitch, but he stops himself from breaking into a smile. “Why do you have to be so stubborn, Y/N? It’s not a good trait to have when you become my wife.” 

My wife. Those two words send shivers down your spine. “I-I won’t be s-stubborn anymore. Please don’t let them arrest Jungwon. He’s so young and he’s still got so much to live for.” 

Jungkook hums. “Yeah? So, you’ll do everything I say from now on?” 

You resign to your fate. “I will.” 

“Then put this mouth to good use and suck my cock, you fucking slut.” 

The switch is on. You take a deep breath, shutting your eyes as you grab the waistband of his boxers. He’s already hard and leaking with precum. Did he get turned on by you begging and crying on your knees? The thought repulses you, but you shake it away. This is your fate now. 

His cock springs free from his boxers, and you wrap your hand around the base, before licking your lips, and wrapping it around his tip—slowly licking his precum while you jerk him off. You try to focus your mind elsewhere to make Jungkook feel that you want this. So, you settle on the times you actually wanted to suck his dick and make him feel good. 

Jungkook gathers your hair in his hand, eyebrows furrowed as he looks down at you moving your pace in a quicker manner, swirling around your tongue on his tip, and length. He finds the sight of you sucking his cock while wearing those glasses incredibly hot. 

Once you’ve adjusted your mouth to his side, you begin to deepthroat him, making Jungkook hiss in pleasure and tighten his grip around your hair, tugging on it as you go deeper every time. 

“Look at me,” he orders. You look up at him while you continue to suck him. “Keep your eyes on me while I fuck your throat, okay?” 

You nod and he smirks as he thrusts in your mouth once. You make another gag noise. Jungkook begins to relentlessly pound your mouth, throwing his head back in pleasure. You hold onto his muscular thighs, breathing through your nose as you close your eyes momentarily but Jungkook catches this and taps your cheek. 

“Told you to keep your eyes on me, right? It’s like you’re asking to be fucked hard every damn time,” he says through gritted teeth. 

So, his pace becomes faster. About a few more thrusts, Jungkook announces that he’s gonna cum but while you expected to swallow his cum like last time—Jungkook pulls away, jerks his cock with one hand while the other remains on your hair. He pulls your head back as his cum squirts all over your face. 

The white liquid is all over your glasses and Jungkook wipes some on your lips using the tip of his cock. 

“Just pretty,” he says as you hear a camera snap. “I think I’ll make this my new lockscreen.” 

You feel humiliated and disgusted as he lets go of your hair and types something on his phone. You get up on your feet, take your glasses off and stare at it covered in Jungkook’s cum. You lick your lips and taste the salty substance. Jungkook then places his phone on the counter and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulders. 

“I’m happy you’re finally back to your senses. I can’t wait to marry you, love.” 

“Can I tell my brother first before announcing it to the public?” you ask, lowering your head as you fight the urge to cry. “I just don’t want him to find out on the news.” 

“How are you going to do that? Jungwon doesn’t want anything to do with you. That’s why he left your apartment, right?” You stiffen at his remark. Jungkook chuckles. “Baby, did you really think I would keep my eyes off you even when you’re not with me? I love you. I love you so fucking much that the thought of you not anywhere near me makes me go crazy. So, I had to do it—I had to put cameras around your apartment to see you, to protect you, to know if you’re bringing some bastard home and then kill him before he can even scream for help. That’s how much I love you, Y/N. Who else is going to love you like I do?” 

“Y/N noona! What are you doing here?” Sunoo, one of Jungwon’s members and friends, greets you with his infectious smile as he opens the door to their dormitory. “Come inside, please.” 

“Thanks Sunoo,” you tell him with a smile as you take his offer and enter. Leaving your shoes at the doorway, you ask Sunoo, “Is Jungwon around? I was hoping I could talk to him.” 

“Yes. He’s in our room. Would you like something to eat or drink, noona? Jay hyung is cooking something in the kitchen,” the dark-haired boy offers. 

You reach their living room and sure enough, you smell something sweet in their air. “It’s okay, Sunoo. I don’t think I’ll stay long anyway. Is it through here?” 

Sunoo nods. “Yes. Second door to the right.” 

“Thank you,” you tell him before making your way down the short corridor and knocking on the second door to the right. 

“Come in!” you hear Jungwon exclaim on the other side. You take a deep breath before opening the door and seeing him lying on one of the bunk beds, scrolling through his phone. “Is the food ready, hyu—Noona? What are you doing here?” 

You give him a small smile, shutting the door behind you and remaining on the spot beside it, hands behind your back. “Is it okay if I talk to you? I have something I want to say.” 

He sits on his bed, placing his phone beside him. “I don’t really want to talk, but since you’re here, what choice do I have?” His tone is harsh and irritated which you expected. 

“I’ll make it quick then. I wanted to let you know before you see it on the news anywhere that Jungkook and I—we’re getting married. We’re engaged.” 

His eyebrow furrowed deeply. “What? I thought you two aren’t together anymore.” 

You inhale deeply, lips pressed tightly. “We got back together and now we’re engaged.” 

“Why?” he asks, genuinely confused. 

“Why not?” you quip, hoping to lighten the tension brewing between the two of you. 

“I don’t know, noona, maybe because it’s marriage. It’s serious. Have you thought about this? Like really thought about this?” 

“Yes, Jungwon. I have,” you say, hoping your tone is convincing enough—for your brother or for yourself is still up for debate. “It’s what I came here to tell you.” 

Jungwon sighs deeply, shaking his head. “What the fuck.” You don’t blame him for his reaction. You watch as he runs his fingers through his hair then lifts his head to look at you. “When is the wedding then?” 

You press your back against the cold wall behind you. “Not sure yet but it’s going to be within this year, for sure.” 

He nods. “This doesn’t make any sense to me. How can you break up with someone, get back together with them, and then marry them?” He lets out a small laugh. 

Your heart clenches and your eyes soften. “Jungwon,” you call out softly. “I’m sorry for everything. For not being a sister to you all these years. I just—I thought I was doing the right thing, but I never stopped to consider your true feelings about everything.” 

He breathes in sharply, rising from his bed. “We’re not doing this here, noona.” 

Your eyes shake as you bite your lower lip. “Please Jungwon? Please let me make it up to you.” 

“How? By marrying my senior? Did you even stop to think about how this will affect not only me but the other members as well? It’s bad enough that you dated him, noona. We’re still suffering from hate because of your relationship. Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you? How can you be so selfish all the fucking time, noona?” 

Selfish. One word that stabs you over and over again the more it echoes in your mind. 

“Leave. Now. I don’t want to speak to you ever again. I will be as professional as I can, but that’s all we’re ever going to be. Professionals. You’re not my sister anymore. We’re not family anymore. We’ve never been one in years anyway. From now on, just stay away from me unless it’s for work. I—,” Jungwon stops and then shakes his head one more time. “Just go, Y/N.” 

BTS Jungkook and Yang Y/N are engaged 

In an Instagram post uploaded by BTS member Jungkook, 26, he announced that he is engaged to his long-time girlfriend, producer Yang Y/N, 26. 

“I fell in love with you the moment I met you and now, I can’t wait to fall in love with you more as my future wife and mother to our children,” The youngest BTS member said in the caption of his Instagram post featuring several photos of Yang and him throughout their years as a couple. “I am excited to begin this new chapter with you and to explore all remaining chapters until the end where we’re wrinkly and old, surrounded by the family we’ve made through the years.” 

Jungkook also shares a message to his fans, ARMYs. “To ARMYs, I know this might come as a shock to you as I am the youngest in Bangtan, but for those who have been with me from the start, I’m sure you know that I’ve always been someone who wears my heart on my sleeve. I hope to have your love and support on this new journey in my life as you have always given me through the years.” 

The ‘Seven’ singer ended his caption by thanking his fans, his members, and Yang Y/N. “Once again, thank you ARMYs, thank you to my hyungs, and thank you to Yang Y/N for accepting me as her partner for life.” 

Jungkook and Yang Y/N have been together for four years before getting engaged. Yang serves as one of BTS’ producers, producing some of their songs including ‘Hold Me Tight’, ‘Fire’, ‘Ma City’, ‘Spring Day’, and their latest comeback ‘Run BTS’, among others. She has also worked on Jungkook’s solo album particularly on songs ‘Yes or No’ and ‘Seven.’ 

You don’t think you’ve seen this many people gathered in a hall. You’ve lost count on how many times you bowed and shook hands with the guests Jungkook invited to your engagement party and your face hurts from the fake smiles you’ve put on for everyone. From his family to his industry friends, to the executives of Hybe and those of his and Bangtan’s endorsements to all artists at the company, including your brother who is seated beside you, and staff of Hybe—it seems like everyone is here tonight. 

Jungkook hasn’t let you out of his sight since the night began, always having his arm around your waist, tattooed hand placed conservatively on your hip or on your thigh when the two of you are sitting down. He’d constantly caress your thigh and place soft kisses on your cheek, behind your ear, on your shoulder, and even on your neck for everyone to see. He plays the doting fiance very well; the maniacal shadow is completely hidden tonight. 

You don’t know how he managed to put this party together, but you’re not surprised either. What Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets. His persistence is unmatched, as you regretfully realized later rather than sooner. 

It’s when Jungkook is suddenly whisked away by the CEO of Calvin Klein that you take the opportunity to excuse yourself, saying you need to use the restroom. Despite the warning state in your fiance’s eyes, you give him a small tight-lipped smile before making your way out of the hall and towards the stairs leading up to the rooftop of Hybe’s building—a sanctuary you go to whenever you feel the world on your shoulders. You grip on the railings tightly, hair blowing backwards by the chilly October air, creating goosebumps all over your body. You could hear your own heartbeat and feel the tightness of your chest as you take deep breaths to prevent yourself from spiraling into a panic attack. You don’t even remember the last time you experienced one, but when you’re finally alone—everything sinks in. 

You’re getting married to Jeon Jungkook. Your own brother despises you. You’re completely on your own. The moment you walk down the aisle, you’re forever trapped in the insanity that is Jeon Jungkook. Suddenly, all the worst case scenarios plague your mind and your heartbeat races quickly more than ever before. 

You should have seen the warning signs. It’s been there since the day Jungkook started showing his more than friends affection towards you. Hindsight is, indeed, twenty-twenty, and now you’re reaping the false belief you sowed about the man you once loved. 

You should have known that his persistence and devotion in courting you after you rejected him for a multitude of reasons are not acts of love, but obsession. That his efforts from courting you—giving you your favorite flowers every single day, his good morning and good night texts, and planning your dates—were just acts of love bombing to exploit your already growing feelings for him. 

And when you finally said yes and he announces your relationship to the public, despite your repeated protests that it was too soon—it wasn’t to show his fans, the public, the industry, and the entire world that he was proud to be in a relationship with you or to set a precedent in normalizing dating in the industry; it was to show them that you were his and his alone. 

By the time your rose-colored glasses shattered, it was too late. You’ve already entered the lion’s den and there is no way out. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” At the sound of the familiar husky voice of Kim Woosung, you turn around, eyes wide, one hand tightly gripping the railing while the other placed over your right chest. His sharp features soften at the sight of your panicked state and he cautiously makes his way towards you. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” 

You open your mouth, but the words don’t come out. Your entire body feels rigid. You want to cry, to scream, to run as fast as you can away from all of these—but you remain on your spot, mute. Woosung presses his lips as he now stands mere inches away from you. The smell of his favorite cologne fills your nostrils. 

“You don’t have to say anything, but if you need a hug, if you need a friend, I’m right here, Y/N. I’m always going to be right here,” he tells you softly, meeting your wide gaze. 

You want to reach out to him, to accept his offer of a hug, but you don’t want to take your chances. You don’t know how long you’ve been gone, but knowing Jungkook—even a minute is long enough. It’s only a matter of time before he goes out and find you. You cannot take the risk of him seeing you with another man, especially Woosung, someone he’s already voiced out he’s jealous of. 

With that thought, you come back to your senses. You exhale deeply, licking your lower lips as you shake your head. “I-I’m fine, Woosung.” 

“Okay,” he replies, nodding slowly. “I just saw you dashing out of the hall, looking frantic, and I got worried so I followed you out.” 

“Yeah, I guess, um, I guess I just feel overwhelmed by all the people in there,” you say. 

“I can see that. I didn’t even know you can fit that many people inside the hall,” Woosung chuckles, placing his hands on the cold railing. For a while, the two of you just stand in silence, letting the breeze and the bustling city below you fill in. Then, Woosung breaks it with a heartbreaking tone saying, “Don’t marry him, Y/N. Please don’t.” 

You’d be a fool not to admit that since you met Woosung three years ago through Yoongi, you’d been oblivious to his affections for you. He wasn’t exactly subtle about it, but he was also respectful of your relationship with Jungkook that he didn’t try to impose himself on you. Then, when you broke up with Jungkook, he took the chance to finally confess his feelings for you. 

Woosung is the complete opposite of Jungkook. He’s gentle, he’s kind, he respects you and your boundaries, he makes you laugh, he makes you feel secure, and his affection towards you doesn’t feel suffocating. A walking green flag, as they call it these days, and in another life where you have the freedom to choose who to love—you’ll love him. But alas, this is your life now. 

“Woosung, please don’t,” you breathe out, hanging your head low as you shake it. “I’m going to marry Jungkook.” 

“You don’t love him, Y/N. I know you. I see you. You don’t love him because why would you be here if you do?” Woosung points out, his tone remaining level. He’s not one to raise his voice; he’s always calm and composed. Another thing that makes him different from Jungkook. 

“Woosung, let’s go back. Let’s not talk about this anymore,” you say as you turn around and make your way to the door. 

“Marry me instead,” he declares behind you. You stop on your tracks, breath hitches. “If it’s marriage you want, marry me instead, Y/N.” 

You look at him over your shoulder. He’s standing in the same spot, but facing you with the moonlight and fluorescent lights shining on his honest and genuine face. You take him all in with your eyes—dressed in a pair of black pants, shoes, satin dress shirt, and a black coat over it. His hair’s longer now, but still black and messy. A silver necklace adorns his neck and through his unbuttoned top, the tip of his cross tattoo on his chest is peeking. 

You shake your head.

He takes a deep breath as he slips his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side as he shuts his eyes. Then, he nods as he traces the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Alright. I understand. But Y/N, can you just—can you look me in the eye and tell me marrying him, being with him is what you really want? Can you do that for me and I swear, I’ll let go of all my feelings for you by the time the sun rises tomorrow. But if there’s even a slight doubt, please be with me instead.” 

“I don’t deserve you, Woosung. I’m sorry. I can’t,” you tell him. 

“What are we doing here?” you ask Jungkook two weeks later. It’s late at night, past midnight, and you’re being led to the back of Ignorantia, a club at Gangnam which you know Jungkook is an investor of, followed by several of his bodyguards. He’s dressed in a black dress shirt with yellow floral prints on it, black jeans, and his signature black boots. 

“I told you, I wanna show you something, baby,” Jungkook replies, looking over his shoulder to flash you a smile. 

Eyebrows scrunched, you decide not to say anything more until you reach the end of the corridor and one of Jungkook’s bodyguards opens the door. “After you, mi lady,” your fiance chuckles, feigning chivalry by lowering himself as he extends his arm out toward the room. 

The moment you enter the room, your entire body is coated with unprecedented fear. Tied to a metal chair, bloody and bruised, is none other than Kim Woosung. The door behind you slams shut, making you jump, and with frantic eyes, you turn to Jungkook. “What is going on here?” you ask. 

At the sound of your voice, from the corner of your eyes, you see Woosung lift his head—albeit painfully. You don’t wait for Jungkook’s answer and rush to Woosung’s side, kneeling in front of him as tears pool your eyes at the sight of his beaten up self. But Woosung being Woosung, he plasters a small smile on his bloody lips. One of his eyes is already swollen shut, but you know he’s looking at you. 

“I’m sorry, Woosung…” It’s all you can say, shaking your head as you stand on your feet, wiping your tears with the back of your hands. “Stop this. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook’s expression remains cold and stoic. He’s standing a few feet across from you and Woosung, hands deep in his pockets. “He brought it upon himself the moment he asked you to marry him instead and you considered.” 

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m marrying you! For fuck’s sake, Jungkook, this has gone way too far. Stop this insanity already. You’re hurting innocent people!” 

“Trying to take another person’s belonging doesn’t make you innocent,” Jungkook hisses, pulling his sleeves up to his elbows. His bodyguard hands him something metal and you watch as he slips on the brass knuckles in both his hands. “I know none of us here are Catholics, but since he’s got that cross tattooed on his chest, maybe Woosung knows to some degree that one of the Ten Commandments is thou shalt not steal, am I right, Woosung?” 

Jungkook begins to walk towards the weak Woosung and you step in front of him, breathing heavily. “Jungkook, don’t do this. He’s done nothing wrong. Fuck, please, just let him go. You already have me. What more do you want?” 

“I want this fucker to know that you’re mine and I want you to fucking carve it in your head that you’re mine!” he bellows. “Now step away. This is the last time I’m asking nicely.” 

When you refuse, Jungkook pushes you aside, making you land on the floor. This triggers Woosung to muster whatever strength he had left to let out an animalistic growl before prancing at Jungkook only for the latter’s brass knuckles hit his face. You scream for Jungkook to stop, but his bodyguard traps you with his strong arms, and you’re forced to watch as Jungkook mercilessly lands punch after punch at Woosung’s face and body. 

“Fuck!” Jungkook yells as he lands one final punch at Woosung’s face which you don’t even recognize anymore before stepping away from him, panting. He faces you—Woosung’s blood covering his face and with a maniacal smile plastered on his lips. He drops the brass knuckles on the floor then he gives a signal to his bodyguard to let you go. 

Once you’re out of the bodyguard’s grip, you lunge at Jungkook and repeatedly hit him while sobbing, screaming all profanities that you can think of. He doesn’t stop you and let you hit him wherever you want. Then, the exhaustion takes over and you fall on your knees before him. 

“I’m done playing nice. I guess being nice doesn’t really get you the respect you deserve. How naive of me,” Jungkook says after a while. He lowers himself to meet your eyes. He grabs your face and forces his lips on you. You push him away, slapping him as you taste Woosung’s blood on your lips. A lopsided smirk appears on his lips. “Jo, can you bring our other friend inside? I think it’s time for Y/N’s punishment.” 

“Yes, Mr. Jeon.” 

Moments later, you perk up at the sound of a very familiar voice echoing in the room. You stand, heart sinking in your stomach as you see Jungwon with his hands tied behind his back and duct tape around his mouth. A gun is pressed against his temple. His eyes are wide and terrified, and once they meet yours, a muffled sound comes out of his taped mouth. You believe he said ‘Noona!’ Jungwon struggles against Jo’s grip and Jungkook traps you in his.

His hot breath fans over your ear as he whispers, “Time to choose, Y/N. Which one would you rather save? Jungwon, the brother who has already disowned you? Or Woosung, the man who loves you? You can’t have both—that’s just the rule of the world, my love.” 

“Why are you doing this?” you sob, shaking your head. 

“Because you need to learn who is in control,” he tells you. “Because you need to learn what happens when you so much as think of another man other than me. Because I want to be the only one you think about. And frankly, because it’s fun. Seeing you cry, begging for mercy—it makes me so hard, don’t you feel it?” 

You, unfortunately, do feel his erection. It makes your stomach churn. “Then please stop this, Jungkook. Don’t make me choose. Let them go and I will be the perfect wife to you. I will do everything—quit my job, move wherever with you, do everything you want me to do. I’ll live the rest of my life being devoted to you and you alone.” 

He hums in your ear, pressing his clothed hard cock more in your ass. “That sounds lovely. But you still need to choose otherwise both of them will die tonight.” 

“No, no, no, please. Please don’t make me do this,” you beg. 

Jungkook begins counting down. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…” 

“Stop! Please! Don’t!” you thrash in his grip as he continues counting.

“Six, five, four, three…” 

You break. “Two—,” 

“Jungwon! I choose Jungwon,” you exclaim, limping against Jungkook’s chest. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, placing a kiss on your earlobe. “Come here, baby. Time for you to act out your choice.” 

Jungkook turns you to Woosung’s beaten body on the floor. He’s still breathing, seeing his chest rising. You don’t know if he heard you choose Jungwon over him and the thought is too much to bear. No matter how goodness he has in his heart, would he be able to forgive you for your decision? Jungkook places a gun in your hand; the coldness of it makes you jump. He chuckles, wrapping his hand around yours on the handle before he guides you to point it at Woosung. 

Behind, Jungwon is screaming. 

“You just need to pull the trigger, baby, and everything will go back to the way it was. Remember, if you don’t do this now, it’s Jungwon’s funeral.” 

“Y/N…” Woosung manages to croak out as he coughs out blood. 

“Sung…” you call out, sobbing once more. “S-Sorry… Sung…” 

“I l-love y—,” 

Bang! You scream at the loud sound that echoes through the room and Woosung is no more. 

Growing up, you never really pictured or imagined how your wedding would look like. You didn’t even think about getting married in the first place, having been exposed early on to the harsh realities of life, and forced to enter the workforce when you were only fifteen to make ends meet. Your life revolved around work, Jungwon, more work, and more Jungwon. Now, as you stare at yourself wearing a custom made traditional Vera Wang white satin tube wedding gown with a long veil trailing behind you, and holding a bouquet of baby’s breath and white roses, you’re overwhelmed with the implications of what is about to come. 

Today, you’re marrying Jungkook in front of hundreds of people inside a huge garden and more people watching in the comfort of their own home because Jungkook allowed for the ceremony to be broadcasted nationwide and internationally as witnesses to your holy matrimony. In a few minutes, you’ll be walking down the aisle with your brother by your side and your fate will be ultimately sealed in front of the thousands of people watching the ceremony. Suddenly, the rest of your life flashes before your eyes. 

A life of loneliness, isolation, servitude to Jungkook and all his needs. You’ll no longer be Yang Y/N, the music producer. You’ll now be Yang Y/N, Jeon Jungkook’s wife. A decade of hard work and sacrifices down the drain—all because you let yourself naively walk a lion’s den. Not only that, you also got an innocent’s blood on your hands. 

Five months had passed since that night and yet the memories are still as vivid as if it’s only yesterday that you pulled the trigger that ended Woosung’s life. Woosung, the man who loved you unconditionally. Woosung, the man who loved you until his dying breath. You can still hear his voice in your head at times, still get flashes of the image of his face—both the ones where he was smiling and alive and the one where he was beaten to a pulp and ultimately killed with a gunshot. 

No one besides you, Jungwon, Jungkook’s bodyguards, and Jungkook himself know the real reason why Kim Woosung is dead. Jungkook’s connection ran deep with the police that until now, his death was still unsolved, a speck of dust in the myriad of cold cases in the district of Seoul. He had forced you and Jungwon to attend the funeral and it fucked you and your brother up, watching as his parents, especially his mother, broke down at the fate her son suffered. 

It didn’t help that his mother went to you and told you Woosung had spoken so highly of you every time, both as a friend, a colleague, and a person. You threw up afterwards. Jungwon, on the other hand, was traumatized. He formed night terrors, having to go in an indefinite hiatus from his group activities and be checked into a psychiatric facility for attempting suicide. 

It’s only now, on your wedding day, that he’s been given permission from his psychiatrist to be let out. His nurse keeps an eye out on him the entire time along with a security guard in case he tries to kill himself or escape. You know they’re appointed by Jungkook, but fortunately, they are far enough for you and your brother to have some privacy. 

“You don’t have to do this, noona,” Jungwon whispers as he stands beside you. He’s dressed in a black suit, hair neatly styled, showing off his handsome features. He significantly lost weight; you can easily tell by his hollow cheeks. “You can run. We can run. We can go abroad and tell the truth to the public.” 

“I’m afraid this is the only way, Won,” you say, hanging your head low. “He’s got eyes and ears everywhere. There’s no place in the world that we can go and hide. He’ll find us eventually and we’ll be doomed.” 

“But you can’t stay with him too,” Jungwon is desperate, terrified now. “Noona, he—he killed Woosung hyung.” His tone is barely above whisper when he says those words. 

“I know,” you reply. Then, you lift your head and smile at him, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine. I’m going to be alright. Just focus on you, okay?” 

He suddenly hugs you, burying his face in the crook of your neck like he always did when he was little. You hug him back just as tight, squeezing your eyes tight. You don’t want to think that this may be the last time you’ll get to be this close to Jungwon, but your gut says otherwise. So, you take all of him in and hope that he feels all your love, all your apologies, all your care at that moment. 

“I love you, noona. I’m sorry for being a bad brother.” 

You shake your head. “No, you’re not. I’m sorry for not being the sister you needed.” 

“No, noona—,” 

“No, Jungwon, I recognize it now. Everything you said that night—how I scolded you for not practicing with the other trainees and attending your taekwondo lessons, for never saying you did well even when you did because I didn’t want the others to see me as being biased, for not telling you Jungkook and I were dating, for being everything but a sister to you, I’m sorry. I failed you, Won, I’m sorry.” 

“Noona, please, I don’t want you to die,” he cries. “He’ll kill you, I just know it. He’s done it before.”

“Shh, I won’t let him. I’ll stay alive, so please promise me that you will, too, okay Won?” You hold his face in your hands and he nods. “We’ll get out. Someday. I’ll get us out.” 

“Ms. Yang, we’re ready for you.” 

You nod at the assistant of the wedding planner. Then, you and Jungwon follow her out of the hotel room you’re staying at, then ride the elevator down to the VIP parking where the white Mercedes-Benz bridal car is waiting for you. Immediately after stepping inside, the driver drives toward the wedding venue. All the time, Jungwon holds your hand. There are no more words spoken between the two of you, aware of the prying eyes and ears. The drive isn’t that long and soon, you find yourself at the entrance of the grand garden—where fans and media gather behind the barricades. Upon seeing the bridal car, they erupt into a frenzy. 

You meet your brother’s eyes and squeeze his hand. Trust me, you want to say, and hope your eyes are expressive enough to let him know. He nods and he steps outside the vehicle. He helps you out afterwards, and all you hear are the screams and the resounding echo of the media’s frenzied camera shots. 

The assistant leads you and Jungwon up the stairs. Then, she instructs you both to smile, bow, and wave at the fans and media outside before continuing your way upstairs. There’s a courtyard that you pass through before you reach the door where everyone is waiting for you. 

“We have arrived. Stand by in two minutes while we retouch the makeup of the bride and her brother,” the assistant speaks through her microphone. Once the makeup artists are finished retouching yours and Jungwon’s make up, she gives the signal that you’re ready, and you hear the familiar melodies of the traditional wedding march. “Ms. Yang, Mr. Yang, you may enter.” 

You tighten your grip around Jungwon’s arm and he holds your hand as the doors open, revealing the vast sea of people on either side of the aisle. With each step, you see familiar and unfamiliar faces of people. There are the Hybe artists, seniors and juniors, the executives, Bangtan’s staff since their debut, Bangtan themselves, some of Jungkook’s industry friends—Jung Jaehyun, Cha Eunwoo, Kim Yugyeom, Bambam—his parents, few close relatives, his brother and his wife. Most of them, however, are strangers to you. 

You don’t even realize that you and Jungwon are walking slower than the beat. At that moment, only the two of you are in sync. Neither of you wanted to reach the end of the aisle where your groom is waiting dressed impeccably in a custom made three-piece Louis Vuitton black and white suit, dark long hair slicked back, piercings on. There is no denying his god-like beauty as he stands tall and proud at the altar; beside him is Yoongi, his best man. His dark eyes watch your every move. His gaze is the only one you can feel on you. 

You know he’s challenging you. Walk slower, he probably thinks. You’ll end up beside me anyway. And you did. You reach the altar and Jungkook takes your arm from Jungwon whom he also gives a hug and a firm handshake. You don’t fail to notice Jungwon’s rigid reaction. Jungkook doesn’t care and he wraps your arm around his as he leads you to the center of the aisle where a priest awaits to officiate the wedding—or to you, your lifelong sentence. 

The beginning of the ceremony is a blur to you. The priest went on about how sacred marriage and how everyone is gathered to witness your union. Then, the vows come. One of the staff of the wedding planner hands Jungkook a microphone as you face each other. He pulls out a piece of folded paper from the inside pocket of his coat, unfolds it, clears his throat, and begins his vow. 

“Y/N, the first time I met you was when we were fifteen years old. I had just debuted and you came to BigHit as a producer. At that moment, I knew you were the one,” Jungkook smiles at you. “But I was too scared to make a move, partly because we were just starting out our careers and dating was a no-no; mostly because I thought I wouldn’t have the chance. You were smart, beautiful, responsible, independent, and work was your life. But the more we got closer, as producer and singer, as people, as friends, my feelings for you just grew.” 

He continues. “Then, five years later, I finally had the courage to tell you how I feel, and I won’t lie—when you turned me down, I was heartbroken. I thought all the pain I felt before was incomparable to how I felt when you told me you couldn’t be with me. But as most of the people here know, I’m a very persistent and determined man. I wanted to show you that my love for you was sincere and deep so I did everything to get that ‘yes’ from you. And my god, I was the happiest man in the universe when you finally said that and in the best way you know how—by saying it through a song.” 

“I know the beginning of our relationship isn’t easy for the both of us. Back then, it felt like the entire world was against us. But I wanted to thank you for staying despite the despites, for choosing me. Thank you for loving me.” 

“Now that we’re starting the next chapter of our lives together, I vow to always love you seven days a week,” the crowd erupts in laughter and he cheekily sends them a smile. “I vow to be with you wherever you are, to be completely and utterly devoted to you for the rest of my life. I vow to be the best husband to you and father to our children. I vow to always be by your side and for you to always have my heart. Y/N, love, I vow to be yours until the end of time.” 

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst. You know the guests are probably eating up every single one of his words, interpreting them as ‘sweet’ or some shit like that, but all you can think of is how calculated every word he is. How every word is not a vow or a promise, but a threat. 

When it’s your turn to say your vows, you read what he wrote. Every word feels heavy on your tongue. But nothing is as heavy as the next words you’re about to speak. 

“Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take Yang Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love and cherish her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?

He wastes no time to answer. “I do.” 

The priest turns to you. “And do you, Yang Y/N, take Jeon Jungkook to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and cherish her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?” 

Your chest rises heavily. The priest waits on your answer. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes burning holes on you. 

“I do.” 

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest happily announces. 

You and Jungkook face each other and he takes the veil off your face. He places his warm hands on your face and just before he places his lips on yours, a ghostly smirk appears on it. Then, he seals your fate with a kiss. The crowd erupts in cheer. You are now Jeon Jungkook’s wife.

━━ “You wrap around me and you give me life.”  END

All Rights Reserved. © cupofjeon. 2024. The author does not allow any translation, repost, modification, and the likes for any of her stories. Do not plagiarize. Once again, the author does not condone this type of behavior. Feel free to send your thoughts here. See you in the next fic!  

[prince-liest]

Thank you for answering my ask and sorry for sending you a new one so quickly, but I just have a lot of Thoughts(tm) about this au!!!

So I keep going back to reread the first chapter, both in its entirety and just specific bits that I like, and I keep noticing how.... polite? Alastor is being? And it's just totally throwing me off lol.

Like, I actually read the snippet you posted of Vox offering Alastor's new shoes before I realized/read the first chapter, and thought it was a little odd how nice Alastor was being, as at that point I thought it was a snippet of a new 666 chapter.

But Alastor being polite in this universe totally makes sense!! He's just been beat up in an alley way, watched two guys get killed in front of him, was (kidnapped) taken to his "savior's" room, and hypnotized by said savior.

Of COURSE he's going to be polite to Vox!! Vox can electrocute and hypnotize people!! Alastor isn't an idoit, he knows he's in hell with a very dangerous person. That he's in a room with someone with someone more powerful than he is, that if Vox did get annoyed or angry at him, and hurt him, Alastor doesn't have that great of odds fighting back, and it's not like someone else is going to pop out and save him.

He's being careful.

But, he doesn't want to be taken advantage of. He knows that if acts like helpless prey, then he's going to be treated like it. So he has to establish that Vox sees him as an equal, or else he risks Vox hurting or hypnotizing him if Vox wanted to.

There's also another thing I noticed- Alastor's.... animalistic (if that is the right word) tendencies. Like, Alastor attacked both Vel and Vox, but didn't use the knife he was on either of them. I think this really interesting, as it would be smarter to use the knife (it's like Vox doesn't know he has it) but by using his teeth and his hands to hurt, it showcases Alastor's new animalistic tendencies. Though I don't know if this was On Purpose, or if it's just a theory lol.

Anyway, I just wanted a chance to talk more about this fic because im really, REALLY enjoying it, and I can't wait for me! (But I can! So don't feel the need to rush! You've already written so much! Take your time!)

One LAST ASK, I promise you (🤞 but probably not lol, sorry) so I'm pretty sure you hinting that Alastor killed someone and was burying their body before being killed himself (like in canon), but what caught my attention is that VOX doesn't seem to know this?? Like he doesn't know that Alastor has killed people?? Which makes sense, it's not common knowledge. But!! Vox has already established that he knows more about Alastor than the general public would, like he knows more about his relationship with his dad (maybe Vox hunted down Alastor's dad and forced him to spill info regarding Alastor, which is hilarious to think about lol). So I'm just SO EXCITED for when it's revealed that Alastor also killed people in life, and for Vox to no doubt get so hard he passes out lol. Also, this means that Vox doesn't know that Alastor is a cannibal, which is also really interesting! (Also, I'm not sure if you were hunting at Alastor's cannibalistic tendencies when he won't let go of Vel with his teeth, but it is a funny mental image to me of Alastor just, trying to eat Vel because a new part of himself is starving for flesh.)

But I do fucking love it. Ehehehehe. These are the EXACT things that I was hoping the first chapter would get people thinking about. I just. GESTURES WILDLY. THERE'S SO MUCH, IN WHAT YOU SAID. SO MUCH. But I can't say shit about it one way or the other for fear of spoilers. Just know that I love you for this.

Actually the one thing I can confirm is that Vox indeed is not under any impression that Alastor is anything more than just, like, a really talented storyteller and true crime podcaster!