#also cause of angst reasons✨

[4-as-in-a-trenchcoat]

I wonder how long Rex left Emmet in Undar? Ik the movie makes it seem like it happens in less than a day, but the first movie did that too. It made the events of 3 days look like a single day.

I just thought it was weird, since Rex was canonically in Undar for 4 years, so it feels wrong that Emmet would suddenly become broody and stuff in just less than a day. He's gotta be left there for at least a few days. It would also make sense for the people left in the Bin of Storajj, because the toughest warriors of Apocalypseburg, the literal heroes of Takos Tuesday wouldn't just give up like that imo.

So yes, I feel like Rex managed to "succeed" for just a few days. (Which probably would've stung more that that success was temporary.. mostly because of Lucy, of all people.)

[lvlyghost]

Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing

how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.

What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk

But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭

The Weight of the World

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.

A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕

Masterlist✨

You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.

Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.

Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?

To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.

The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.

The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.

"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.

"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"

"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."

"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"

"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."

"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"

"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."

It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.

You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.

-

Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.

You.

The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.

Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.

You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.

You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.

The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.

The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.

It's all on him.

He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.

"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."

Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.

"Love..."

"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.

Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.

"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"

Shaking your head and biting down your lip.

"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."

"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."

You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.

"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"

He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.

"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."

"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."

A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.

"You took it off..."

"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."

"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.

"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.

"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.

You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.

"Yeah. We're still getting married."

[wooataes]

a wilted rose - ljh

pairing: mafia boss!lee jihoon x fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au, angst, hurt and comfort, mentions of violence and guns, injuries, bruises, crying, swearing, implied murder, slight fluff, jihoon being protective (yes, that’s a warning)

summary: an unfortunate encounter has jihoon realize his true feelings for his wife.

a/n: toyed around with the idea of mafia!boss jihoon and this is what popped out 🙊 happy new year, friends!

- tae 💜🌸✨

Masterlist

Part Two? | Ask to be added to my taglist

Lee Jihoon’s family is known as one of the most feared Mafia families in South Korea, his great grandparents having made a reputation for themselves that has been held up for generations.

Jihoon was born an only child and singular heir to the Lee fortune and the Lee legacy; having known from a young age that he would eventually end up being the leader of the Lee clan. He knew the family business was dangerous, and since being taught the ropes at 13, he knew that his relationships could be used against him from rival clans. This reason alone caused him to be cautious and callous with who he associated with. He only has two important people he would consider his friends.

His closest friend, Kwon Soonyoung also doubles as his right hand man. Both men grew up together due to Soonyoung’s father being close with Jihoon’s. Their frequent meetings caused the young men to be around eachother for long bouts of time, eventually being homeschooled together while their father’s talked business. For Jihoon, Soonyoung is the one and only person he could trust on this earth- time and time again, he has always proved his unchallenged loyalty to Jihoon and his father’s family. If Jihoon was irrational and unfiltered, Soonyoung was his voice of reason and his level-headed decision maker. To him, it was a match made in heaven.

The second person he considered his friend, or used to, was you. You came into both Jihoon and Soonyoung’s life at 8 years old, your family having been hired by Master Lee to work as live-in staff in their mansion. You were the only other child Jihoon and Soonyoung’s age, and despite Master Lee’s cold heart, he grew to treat you like his daughter and let Jihoon frequently spend his younger years playing with his two closest friends when they weren’t being homeschooled together until he was of age to get into the family business.

12 months ago, when Jihoon had just turned 25, Master Lee announced his soon to be retirement to his son. The only condition for Jihoon to step up to be head of the family business was simple but to Jihoon, was absolutely atrocious.

“I don’t understand why you think me marrying would be advantageous to the family, father.” He hisses, adjusting his chain around his neck, glaring at the stupid red rose, the Lee family staple, perfectly pinned to his lapel.

“It is not to a random woman, Jihoon.” Master Lee frowned.

“That makes it worse!” He barked, leaning his head back in frustration.

“Jihoon. You have to know that no one can be trusted in this business. I am not allowing you to marry outside of who we trust. They can slither their way into your heart and when you are at your most vulnerable, they take everything out from under you. If the enemy knows you’re committed to someone already, it keeps them from hurting us from the inside.”

“Yeah, it also makes Y/N the number one target to the enemy and they will try and swipe her away from under our noses!” He’s yelling now.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he cares too much for you. You’re too good to be associated with the dastardly business that is associated with being in the mafia; you’re a good hearted person who happily serves the Lee family alongside your just as good parents. You’re the one good thing that Jihoon has left, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t protect you.

“It’s not like you’re going to be parading her out for missions and stake outs.” Master Lee frowns. “She is only for the parties. So others know that you’re a committed man that will not waver. I guarantee you she will be protected. She will be treated like a queen in here, and she won’t ever have to see the dark side of the business. Son, I promise you.”

For 12 months, Jihoon, in the public eye was the perfect model husband with you. He stayed by your side faithfully at galas and parties, parading you around with a look of what was perceived as adoration by others. Behind closed doors however, Jihoon treated you like a ghost. Long gone was your once closest friend who you stayed up late with to binge watch stupid movies, playing video games and pranks on Soonyoung. The only thing that remained was a quiet man that only greeted you for one meal a day, to his insistence for the sake of ‘normalcy.’ In your opinion, it felt anything but. Your attempts at conversion were shut down with one worded answers or sometimes none at all, and over time, you grew to enjoy your meal with your husband in silence before going about your day around the Lee mansion alone.

Jihoon thought his father’s plan was working. For 12 months, his wife was safe and protected and never got caught up with any of the mafia business. He was in alliance with most rival clans and worked out plans and deals to work for the foreseeable future.

Sadly for Jihoon, Master Lee was full of shit.

Jihoon is frantic. The staff had alerted him while out for a meeting with an ally clan that you had been injured. They were intentionally vague with details, knowing their boss would fly off the handle at the extent to what your injuries were.

“She’s at home.” Jihoon hears Soonyoung’s voice over the phone.

“What the fuck happened, Soonyoung.” He is sure he is making his driver break at least 10 different road laws right now to get back to the mansion. He makes a mental note to contact the local police and send some generous gift baskets.

“The guards don’t know. I’m trying to get it out of them, but no luck yet.”

“She shouldn’t have been out unsupervised.” Jihoon winces, rubbing at his temples. “Tell them if they don’t give you an honest answer by the time I’m back, I will have their tongues.”

“Just go to her right now, Hoon-ah.”

Marching into the living room, Jihoon makes his presence known by the heavy thuds of his boots on the tiled floor. His eyes scan the room until they finally land on you, his childhood friend and arranged wife, sitting anxiously on the couch. He feels his eye twitch at the sight of no guards in sight, you having been left alone since you have returned.

You lift your head up shakily, your eyes widening at the sight of your husband. His long hair, usually sported in a bun atop his head is now strewn about and falling out of the elastic holding it together, suit jacket scrunched and twisted, red rose nowhere to be found. You’re astonished, having grown so used to seeing your husband with his perfect red rose on his lapel at all times. What you didn’t know that after having found out about your capture, he thrown it to the ground in frustration of his worst fears coming true.

“Jihoon?” You blink nervously.

This is the first time you’ve seen him properly (minus your daily lunches) for maybe a month. He stares intently across the room at you, scanning your body. You’re cradling your left wrist in your hand, a bruise in the perfect shape of a hand print forming around your wrist. His eyes lift to your face, his blood boiling at the sight of a small cut across your cheek, your right eye swelling up and starting to turn purple.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stutter, biting down on your lip. “I know I shouldn’t have-“

You flinch at the sight of Jihoon striding forward, only to pause when he walks straight past you and into the kitchen, causing your shoulders to deflate. You were stupid to think your best friend had come back for only a moment. You sink sadly into the couch, curling up slowly.

Your head stays facing down at the floor as you run your fingertip over the hand print on your wrist, wincing and hissing as you press a little too hard. You sigh after a moment, moving to stand up before you pause at the sight of Jihoon’s expensive dress shoes directly in front of you.

You look up nervously at him as he reaches out, delicately taking your wrist, face neutral as he runs his fingers gently over the bruise just like you had done, eyebrows furrowing. You shiver slightly, this being the first physical contact you have felt from your husband in months. Next, he reaches forward and tucks a stray hair behind your cheek before examining the darkening bruise over your eye. At this, you see his eyes darken, heaving a heavy sigh through his nose.

“Who the fuck did this to you.” His voice is soft as he eyes you.

“I-I…”

“I need to know who did this.” He pleads.

“It was Hwang.” You whimper.

His jaw clenches. Hwang has sworn vengeance against the Lee family ever since Master Lee cut ties and alliances with the Hwang’s over his unethical practices. In Hwang’s words, he wanted to poison the perfect garden of roses that Master Lee built.

“H-he said it was a warning..” you can’t look Jihoon in the face. “T-to keep your wife on a leash or else something could happen. Jihoon, I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have gone out, I didn’t want to cause any more trouble.” You’re crying softly now, wincing at the pain that your swelling is causing.

You tense up as you feel something cool delicately rest on your cheek, opening your eyes to see your husband holding an ice pack gently to your face. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he moves you so you’re sitting down on the couch once more.

“You stay here until Soonyoung gets back to look after you, okay?” He instructs you as you just stare at him, bewildered. “Do you hear me, Y/N?” You nod your head slowly as you cradle the ice pack to your cheek. “Good.”

You watch Jihoon turn around and march back towards the front door of the mansion, pointing to Mr Kim, one of the guards who has been in Jihoon’s family for years. “Make sure no one comes inside this mansion except for me and Soonyoung. You guard her with your life until he gets here.” The man nods his head sternly as he moves to stand in the doorway between the living room and the entryway.

“J-Jihoon? Where are you going?” You ask nervously as your husband adjusts the gun holster around his waist, his voice cold and deadly, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m going to kill the fucker who thought he could touch my wife and get away with it.”

And with that, the door slams behind him, leaving you alone with Mr Kim eyeing the door sternly.

You stay anxiously in the living room for what feels like an eternity, waiting to hear anything from Jihoon or his guards. You jolt at the sound of the door after only 15 minutes of sitting in silence, breathing a sigh of relief as you see Soonyoung rush inside and run straight towards you.

“Soon…” you whimper as he meets you halfway, immediately pulling you close and hugging you to his chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He breathes out, shaky. “The one fucking day I had to go run some errands…”

You hate the fact that Hwang probably waited for Soonyoung to be away from you to strike.

“Soon, it’s fine…” you whisper, wincing as he pulls away to look down at your face, closely examining your swelling eye.

“It’s not fine, look at you!”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” You whisper, and he just sighs with frustration, leading you to the couch and sitting you up against the cushions, laying a fluffy blanket over you.

“You’re going to sit here and we are going to watch some tv until Jihoon-ah gets back, okay?” He settles down beside you.

“Soonyoung, you can go have a shower or eat or something...” Your voice is low as he scrolls through random movies to play on Netflix.

“Nope.” He made a promise to stay with you until Jihoon gets back, and he will stay true to his word. Eating and washing up can wait.

“Y/N-ah.” Soonyoung glances at his phone after a few hours. The ice pack against your cheek is now lukewarm, your legs having shaken non-stop since you’d been forced to sit down.

“Hm..” you hum in response.

“Jihoon-ah will be home in 5 minutes. He asked for me to give you both some privacy and take care of some clean-up. Will you be okay with Mr Kim watching you?”

“Okay.” You respond nervously, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as Soonyoung gently touches your good cheek with his finger.

“I’ll be in the other room making calls if you get scared between now and then. Okay?”

“Thank you, Soonie.” You whisper, looking up at him with a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles back before turning around and walking down the hall, leaving you alone once more as the panic begins to rise in your body.

You’re lucky you don’t have to wait long, as true to Soonyoung’s word, Jihoon steps inside his mansion and into the living room not even 5 minutes later, heaving a sigh. When you spot him, you rush quickly to him, immediately noticing the blood on his shirt and causing you to panic even more.

“Oh god.. you’re bleeding, what have I done? Your father will have me for this.” You quickly try to wipe the blood off his shirt (which you’re relieved to realize isn’t his). Jihoon surprises you both as he reaches forward to take your injured wrist again, pulling you to him and wrapping his arms tight around your waist.

He pulls your head into the crook of his neck, squeezing you to him as his chin rests on top of your head, grip tight on your shirt. You’re shaking before you just melt into his embrace, holding onto his jacket tight as he hums.

“Are you okay.” When you just nod, he pulls back to look into your face. “I need to hear it from you, Y/N. Please… just humor me.”

“Yeah, I’m okay, Hoonie.” You breathe out with wide eyes.

Why does he look so scared?

He sighs with finality before he pulls you back to him, hugging you tight for the first time since he was forced to hold you at your wedding over 12 months ago.

“We will need more security.” He mumbles to you as he holds you tight. “Guards at every post. When we go out, when you’re out in the garden, everywhere. It’s clear they know your schedule so we need to throw them off your scent.” He is talking a mile a minute as he keeps you close to his chest, afraid you’d slip away. “As a precaution, I will have guards sweep the house for any bugs they could have planted. Tonight, we will sleep in the safe house. Is that okay with you, Y/N?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You whisper, your face buried in his shirt. You don’t want to leave his side as much as he doesn’t too - this being the most affection you’ve gotten from someone in 12 months.

“Fuck.” Jihoon didn’t account for the fact his safe house only had one king size bed. “You can take the bed, okay… I can take the couch.”

“Don’t be silly.” You hum, already dragging him to the bed. “We’re both adults here. I think we can handle sharing a bed. We used to in school, right Hoonie?”

“I mean yeah, but we weren’t married then.”

“We’re only married on paper. Why are you being so iffy?” You laugh, wincing as your smile hurts your bruising cheek. Without thinking, he reaches out to cup your face worriedly, examining the bruise before rushing out to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a small ice pack to press to your cheek.

“I’d feel more comfortable if you were close, Hoon. Please.” You ask quieter now as he rocks awkwardly on his heels.

“Only until you’re asleep.” He bargains, and you nod quickly.

“Deal.”

After an awkward intermission of you both getting ready to share the bed for the first time since your wedding, you’re finally drifting off, curled up beside your husband as he sits up against the bed head, stiff as a board in sweatpants and a large jumper. Jihoon lays on top of the blankets so he can make an easy get away when you fall into a deep sleep.

He’s about to up and leave as your breathing evens out, thinking you’re asleep when he feels you shift. You scoot closer, hand finding his as your head nestles comfortably against his shoulder. You visibly relax at his warmth, your shaky hands slowing to a stop as you essentially glue yourself to his side. He tenses up, looking down at you with wide eyes as you finally fall asleep. He frowns deeply at the sight of your bruise showing before aggressively sighing to himself and wrapping his free arm around you to hold you against his chest. He is unable to resist your cuteness. That, and he wants to protect you, of course.

Jihoon refuses to sleep a wink in case someone tries to break in, but after hour four of him stroking your arm delicately with his cheek resting on top of your forehead, he feels himself drifting off.

When he wakes up, he sees you’re still cuddled up to him, but almost jumps out of his skin when he sees Soonyoung standing at the foot of the bed with a knowing smirk on his face.

“It took you long enough to treat your wife like she is your wife.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hisses out as quietly as possible to not wake you, his cheeks bright red. “If she wakes up, I’ll have your head.”

“I’m sure you will.” He winks.

“Kwon Soonyoung I swear to god if my wife wasn’t sleeping against me right now, you’d be six feet under.”

“Mhm~” he sing songs, stepping out the bedroom door.

“If you tell anyone, you’re dead.”

ljh taglist

@breakfastburritosattiffanys @mar-627 @milopenne @lanatheawesome @sunnynapp @jaeminsbuckethat @opheliaas-stuff @hotricewoozi@lavayeon @seventeenthingsblr @zaggprincess2 @markleehee @kwanniesboo @beardedartgamingbakery @iarayara

permanent taglist

@misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @devinkelsey19 @woozieeeee @loveless-lie @lixiel0ver @keymins @nen-nyy @i-dont-give-a-fok @miriamxsworld @jojowantstocry @roe-sinning @sun-daddy-yoriichi @coveyland @side-angel @rinalouu @flwerrchild @apobangpowrld @ldysmfrst @adeptiixiao @lisaaaaamanobannn @jovialpartyneckoaf @sarahisupset

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 18/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Smut and more Smut, Teasing, Language, age gap, flirting, angst, fluff

Word Count: 9167

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You didn’t know how many times you let the water rinse out and filled the tub with fresh hot water. You also lost count of how many bath bombs you had used by now, their scents blending together in a soothing, but ultimately ineffective, attempt to lift your spirits. You couldn’t bring yourself to get out of the tub. It had been over two hours, and by now your skin looked like that of an 80-year-old.

Just then, you heard a soft knock against the doorframe. You glanced up to see Jensen standing there, a concerned look on his face.

“Hey”, he said softly, his voice filled with gentle concern.

You looked back down at your pruned, popped-up knees. “Hey”, you mumbled.

Jensen stepped further into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

He knelt beside the tub, his presence a calming anchor in the midst of your emotional storm. “You’re okay?”, Jensen asked gently. He knew you weren’t okay, could see it in the way you avoided meeting his eyes, in the way your shoulders were tensed despite the warmth of the water.

His chin rested on the edge of the bathtub as he waited patiently for you to look at him. The air between you held a palpable tension, filled with unspoken words and emotions swirling beneath the surface. Jensen’s concern radiated from him, a silent plea for you to open up, to let him in.

You finally raised your eyes to meet his. “I… I’m just tired”, you admitted quietly, your voice wavering slightly.

Jensen’s expression softened even more, his concern deepening. “I can see that”, he said gently. “But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”.

A lump formed in your throat as you struggled to put your feelings into words. It was a lot for you to take in—all the female fans hugging him, crushing on him, screaming at him, literally paying money for a glimpse of him. And then there was his public persona, speaking about his wife and acting like everything was fine with his marriage. It made you feel like a secret, hidden away from his friends and the world. You were a girl half his age, his affair, his side chick, or whatever the fuck you were. The thought made you feel stupid and insignificant.

But you didn’t want to cause him stress, so you just shook your head slightly. “It’s nothing”, you lied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just a lot going on”.

Jensen wasn’t convinced. He reached out, gently cupping your face and urging you to look at him. “Please, talk to me”, he said softly. “One of the reasons things work so well between us is because we talk about everything. I don’t want you to hold back”.

His words tugged at your heart, making it harder to keep your emotions bottled up. Tears welled up in your eyes as you finally let the truth spill out. “It’s just… everything”, you began, your voice cracking. “Seeing all those fans today, hugging you, screaming for you… And then hearing you talk about your wife like everything is fine. It just… it made me feel stupid".

You couldn’t help but let your tears roll down your cheeks. “I don’t want to be too clingy, Jensen”, you mumbled, your voice trembling. “But I can’t help how I feel. I… I just have such intense feelings already for you. I never had something like this before. I never felt so strong for someone like I do for you”.

Seeing you cry was the most terrible thing Jensen had ever experienced. He felt a sharp pang of regret and helplessness, and he remembered Jared’s words about needing to tell you how he truly felt. But the weight of his complicated life held him back, making the words stick in his throat.

Jensen took a deep breath, his hands gently cupping your face as he wiped away your tears with his thumbs. “I’m so sorry”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted to make you feel this way. You mean so much to me, more than I can put into words”.

"Forget what I just said”, you mumbled, pulling slightly away from him and brushing your tears away harshly. “It’s stupid”, you muttered, grabbing your towel and slowly getting out of the bathtub. You felt too vulnerable sitting in front of him like that.

Jensen watched you, his heart aching at the sight of you pulling away. He stood up, giving you space but not wanting to let the moment slip away without addressing your feelings. “It’s not stupid”, he said softly, his eyes following your movements as you wrapped the towel around yourself.

You turned to face him, trying to regain some composure. “It is. I shouldn’t have said anything. You have enough on your plate”.

Jensen stepped closer, but kept a respectful distance, his voice gentle but firm. “No, you shouldn’t have to keep these feelings bottled up. They’re valid, and they matter. You matter to me”.

You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “I just don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to complicate your life even more”.

“You’re not a burden”, he insisted, his eyes filled with sincerity. “And yes, things are complicated, but that doesn’t mean your feelings don’t count. I want to know how you feel, even if it’s hard to hear”.

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt or insincerity. But all you saw was concern and a deep longing to make things right. “I just don’t know how to fit into your life without feeling like a meaningless affair”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen’s heart ached, feeling the weight of your words. He knew your point wasn’t about wanting to be in the spotlight. It was about wanting to share the simple, everyday moments that couples take for granted. Things like going out to dinner or holding hands in public without fear. But right now, with the complexities of his life, there was no easy way to make that happen.

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I understand what you’re saying”, he began, his voice low and filled with emotion. “And I know it’s not fair to you. I wish I could change things right now, make it so we could just be normal. But it’s going to take time”.

You nodded, the towel wrapped tightly around you as if it could shield you from the pain. “I get that. I really do. But it doesn’t make it any easier”.

Jensen stepped closer, his hands reaching out but stopping short. “I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t know how long it will take to get to a place where we can have that normalcy. But I want you to know that I’m committed to trying. I don’t see you as a burden, and I never will".

Again, tears rolled down your cheeks. You felt terrible for causing him stress already after such a short time. “I’m sorry”, you mumbled, feeling the urge to walk away and give him space.

As you turned to leave, Jensen reached out and gently held your wrist, his touch firm but gentle. “Don’t apologize”, he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “You have nothing to be sorry for”.

You looked back at him, your eyes filled with doubt and sorrow. “I just don’t want to make things harder for you”.

Jensen shook his head, taking a step closer. “You’re not making things harder. You’re helping me understand what you need, what we both need to make this work. We’re in this together, remember?”.

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. The warmth of his body and the sincerity in his touch gave you a sense of comfort, easing the ache in your heart. “We’ll figure it out”, he whispered against your hair. “Just… please don’t be mad at me. I’m trying, I really am”.

You pressed your face against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “I’m not mad at you”, you mumbled into his shirt. “I’m mad at me. For feeling this way, for wanting more”.

Jensen tightened his embrace, his hand gently stroking your hair. “Don’t be mad at yourself either. It’s okay to want more. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling”.

You took a shaky breath, absorbing his words. “I just want to be with you, without all these complications”.

“I know”, he said softly, his voice filled with understanding. “And I want that too… We’ll find a way to make it work”.

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, seeing the determination and sincerity there. “Promise me we’ll try”, you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I promise. We’ll try, and we’ll do it . And no more feeling like you’re just an afterthought”.

He sighed, mumbling, “Because you’re not”, while gently brushing his hand over your back. Deep down, he knew you needed to hear those three words, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say them out loud. Not yet.

You nodded, appreciating his honesty, even though you sensed his struggle. “I believe you”, you whispered, holding him a little tighter. The weight of the unspoken words lingered between you, but his touch and his presence provided a sense of comfort and reassurance.

Jensen pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment.

There was a silence before he spoke again. “Maybe I shouldn’t have taken you to the convention", he said hesitantly, concern evident in his voice.

You shook your head, interrupting him. “No, Jensen. It was good. I needed to see that side of your life. It’s better to face it sooner rather than later. And honestly”, you continued, a small smile forming on your lips, “I felt so proud seeing you up there, seeing how much your fans love you”.

His eyes softened at your words, and he took a deep breath, relief mixing with lingering concern. “I just don’t want you to feel like this again. It hurts to see you so upset”.

You bit your lip as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. Your heart swelled, and you gently pulled him down to you by his neck. Without another word, you brought your lips to his, a soft yet fervent kiss that conveyed all the emotions you couldn’t put into words. After all, he was here. With you. With no one else, and that’s what mattered.

Jensen responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you tighter, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. The warmth and tenderness of the moment reassured you, grounding you in the reality of his presence and the strength of your connection.

Jensen carefully lifted you onto his hips, your towel slipping away as he did so. You couldn’t help but laugh as you heard a soft crack from his back. The sound made you pull away from his lips, pressing your face against his neck to stifle your giggles. Your naked body was pressed intimately against his, creating a delicious friction.

Jensen chuckled along with you, a playful grin spreading across his face. “You think that’s funny, huh?”, he teased, his voice a mix of amusement and mock annoyance.

You nodded, your laughter muffled against his neck. “A little”, you admitted, still giggling.

“Well, I’m glad my old man back can amuse you”, he replied, his tone light but affectionate. He shifted his grip slightly, adjusting to hold you more securely. “But you better be careful, or I might just drop you”.

You gasped in mock horror, tightening your legs around his waist. “You wouldn’t dare”, you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, wouldn’t I?”, he said, raising an eyebrow. He took a few exaggerated, wobbly steps, making you laugh even harder.

“Okay, okay, I surrender”, you said, breathless from laughter. “Please don’t drop me”.

Jensen smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Never”, he said seriously, his playful tone gone. “I would never drop you”.

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. “I know”, you whispered against his mouth.

With that, he carried you towards the couch, placing you softly on it. As he pulled away, he took a moment to look up and down your naked body, his eyes filled with admiration and warmth. Then, with a dramatic flair, he dropped slowly to his knees, his face level with your belly.

“How incredibly beautiful you are”, he mumbled theatrically, his hands gently tracing the contours of your sides. His voice was filled with mock seriousness, yet there was an undeniable sincerity in his eyes.

You giggled, feeling a mix of amusement and affection. “You’re ridiculous”, you said, your laughter bubbling up again.

Jensen’s grin widened as he continued his dramatic performance. “Ridiculously lucky to have you”, he declared, his hands gently caressing your thighs. “Here I am, an old man with a creaky back, and you… you’re a vision of beauty and youth”.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, shaking your head. “You’re not that old”, you teased back, your voice light with affection.

“Oh, but I am”, he insisted, keeping his tone exaggeratedly serious. “Every time I lift you, my back reminds me of my age”, As he spoke, he slowly began to spread your legs, his touch gentle yet firm, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath hitched slightly at the intimacy of the moment, but the playful atmosphere kept things light. “Well, maybe you should stop lifting me then”, you suggested, your voice teasing.

Jensen shook his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Never. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make”, he said, leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

His words and actions sent shivers through you, a mixture of laughter and desire making your heart race. “You’re impossible”, you murmured, your hands gently threading through his hair.

His eyes never leaving yours, Jensen leaned in even closer, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. His lips were just inches away from your most intimate part, and you could feel his breath against your skin.

“You think I’m impossible?”, he teased, his voice low and husky. “Well, maybe I am. But I’m also determined. Determined to make you feel as incredible as you make me feel”.

You could only manage a soft whimper in response, the anticipation building inside you. Jensen’s hands gently stroked your thighs, his touch both soothing and electrifying.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?”, he continued, his lips brushing ever so lightly against your skin, teasing you without giving you what you desperately wanted. “Every inch of you… I could spend hours just touching, finding all the ways to make you moan”.

Your breathing grew heavier, your hands clutching at the cushions beneath you. “Jensen, please”, you whispered, your voice filled with longing.

He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Please what, darling?”, he asked, his lips so close now that you could almost feel them on you. “Tell me what you want”.

You locked eyes with him, your desire and anticipation palpable as his lips hovered close to your skin.

“Please”, you repeated, your voice a desperate plea, your body arching slightly towards him. “I need you”.

Jensen’s smirk softened into a tender smile as he finally gave in to your request. Without another word, he closed the remaining distance, his lips meeting your most sensitive spot with a deliberate and passionate kiss. The sensation sent an electric jolt through your body, causing you to gasp and clutch onto him tightly.

Jensen’s tongue moved with deliberate precision, the warmth of his mouth enveloping your most sensitive areas. Each gentle lick sent a shiver through your body, the sensation both soothing and electrifying. His hands continued to caress your thighs, his touch light and teasing as he focused entirely on your pleasure.

Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your fingers threading through his hair, holding him close as he worked his magic. The friction of his movements, the pressure of his lips and tongue against you, built an intense, consuming heat within you. Your body responded eagerly, arching towards him, seeking more of his touch.

Jensen alternated between slow, deliberate strokes and quick, flicking motions that left you whimpering with need. His eyes flicked up to meet yours occasionally, the desire in his gaze making the moment even more intimate.

As the pleasure built, your muscles tensed, your body trembling under his skilled touch. The intensity of his attention, the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans grew louder, your fingers tightening in his hair, urging him on.

Jensen responded to your silent pleas, increasing the intensity of his movements. His tongue moved faster, more insistent, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady as you writhed under him.

Just as you felt the wave of your climax approaching, Jensen suddenly stopped. He pulled his mouth away, leaving you teetering on the edge of release. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he looked up at you, clearly enjoying the teasing.

“Jensen”, you whimpered, your voice thick with desperation and need.

He shifted until he was sitting on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, he began to open his belt, his movements deliberate and tantalizing. “I think it’s about time for some tutoring”, he murmured, his tone playful yet commanding.

Your breath hitched at his words, a mixture of frustration and excitement coursing through you. You watched as he undid his jeans.

Jensen leaned back, his eyes dark with desire as he gestured for you to come closer. “C´mere”, he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of authority and affection.

You moved towards him, your body still humming with the need for release. As you reached him, Jensen pulled you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips. He guided you with gentle hands, positioning you just right, making sure you felt the full length of his arousal pressing against you.

He brought his mouth to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “I want to feel you”, he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You bit your lip, a mix of nervousness and anticipation creeping inside you as Jensen’s hands firmly gripped your hips, guiding you. He lifted you slightly, positioning himself at your entrance. The sensation of his hardness pressing against you made your breath catch.

“Relax”, he murmured softly. “I’m here with you”.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. Jensen’s eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and tenderness. Slowly, he began to lower you onto him, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through your body. Inch by inch, he filled you, stretching you in the most delicious way.

“Fuck, you feel amazing”, he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he finally buried himself fully inside you.

You whimpered quietly as Jensen filled you to the brim, the sensation both intense and overwhelming. You still weren’t used to his size, and the feeling of him stretching you was almost too much to bear. Your hands trembled as you placed them against his chest, seeking some stability.

Jensen noticed your shivering hands and brought one of his own up to cover them, squeezing gently. “Take your time”, he whispered.

You nodded, taking deep, steadying breaths as you adjusted to the fullness. His touch, both on your hands and your hips, provided a grounding sense of comfort and support.

Gradually, the initial intensity eased, replaced by a growing wave of pleasure. You began to move, experimenting with small, slow movements at first, finding a rhythm that felt right.

“You’re doing so well”, he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

Emboldened by his words, you began to move more confidently, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down onto him. You were better than the last time, but still way too insecure. Jensen could see the effort you were putting in and gave you time, clearly enjoying how you tried to find a rhythm that would fit you.

After a while, however, he leaned in and began kissing your neck, his lips soft and reassuring against your skin. “Remember what I showed you”, he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His other hand dropped to your hip, gently urging you to roll your hips on him at a different angle.

Slowly, you began to roll your hips, experimenting with the angle he suggested. The new motion sent a wave of pleasure through you, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“That’s it”, Jensen murmured against your neck, his voice a mix of praise and desire. His hands guided your movements, helping you find a rhythm that felt even better. The sensation of him inside you, combined with the intimate kisses on your neck, made you feel both cherished and empowered.

You continued to move, your confidence growing with each thrust and roll of your hips. Jensen’s hands stayed on your hips, guiding and supporting you, his own pleasure evident in the way his breathing quickened and his grip tightened.

As you found your rhythm, the pleasure between you intensified. Your movements became more fluid and natural, the connection between you deepening with every motion. Jensen’s hands roamed your back and hips, his touch both grounding and electrifying.

The new angle and rhythm brought you both closer to the edge. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure—your breathy moans, his deep groans, the intimate whispers and encouragements exchanged between you.

“That’s perfect”, Jensen whispered, his voice strained with pleasure. “Just like that”.

You felt a surge of pride and excitement at his words, knowing you were bringing him as much pleasure as he was bringing you. The intensity of the moment grew, the friction and heat building with each movement.

His lips brushing against your neck before sucking on your soft flesh, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His hands wandered up to your waist, his touch firm and reassuring.

As he pulled his lips away, he leaned back slightly, giving himself a better view of you riding him. His eyes were dark with lust, watching intently as your body moved, taking him in with each thrust. The sight of your pussy enveloping his cock, stretching around him, sent a thrill through him, intensifying his desire.

“Look at you”, he groaned, his hands tightening on your waist. “So beautiful”.

Jensen couldn’t get enough of the sight in front of him. The way your breasts bounced ever so softly with each movement, the glistening wetness dripping down his cock every time you lifted your hips, and the way your mouth hung open, releasing moan after moan—it was all driving him wild with desire.

“Keep going”, he urged, his voice a mix of command and raw need. “Don’t stop. You’re doing so good, baby”.

You bit your lip and moved with renewed vigor, riding him harder, the rhythm between you perfect. Every thrust sent waves of ecstasy through your body, the pleasure almost too intense to bear.

Jensen’s hands roamed your body, caressing your waist, your back, and your breasts. His touch was firm and possessive, grounding you in the moment and intensifying the connection between you. His eyes never left you, drinking in every detail of your pleasure.

Jensen’s desire to push you further spurred him into action. With one flat palm, he pressed gently on your stomach, urging you to lean back slightly. “Hold on to my thighs”, he whispered, his voice low and commanding.

You did as he instructed, gripping his thighs behind you. The new angle changed everything. The moment you shifted back, the intensity of the sensations amplified.

Your head fell back as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. Your body shuddered as you rode the waves of intense pleasure. The angle and depth of Jensen’s thrusts were perfect, hitting spots inside you that sent shockwaves through your entire being. You felt the build-up, the tight coiling within you reaching its peak.

“There you go”, he murmured.

The sound of his voice, the intensity in his eyes, and the overwhelming sensation of him inside you all combined to send you over the edge. You came hard around him, your muscles tightening and pulsing, your breath catching in a series of gasps and moans.

Your entire body trembled with the force of your orgasm, the pleasure radiating out in powerful waves. Jensen’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his own breaths coming in ragged bursts as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your ecstasy.

As your orgasm began to subside, you felt Jensen’s rhythm falter slightly, a sign of his own impending release. His grip on your hips was almost bruising now, his movements becoming more erratic and desperate.

“Fuck Baby”, he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

You felt a rush of satisfaction at his words, knowing you had pushed him to the brink. With a few more powerful thrusts, Jensen’s body tensed, and he let out a deep, guttural moan as he found his release. You could feel him pulsing inside you, the sensation adding a final, intense burst of pleasure to your already overwhelmed senses.

As the last waves of pleasure subsided, you let yourself fall forward against Jensen’s chest, your body trembling and your breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. You clung to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you sought to steady yourself.

Jensen held you close, his own breathing heavy and uneven. He gently stroked your back, his touch soothing and grounding as you both came down from the intense high. His heart pounded against your chest, a steady reminder of the connection you shared.

“Fuck, that was amazing”, he murmured against your hair, his voice still thick with emotion and satisfaction.

You nodded against him, unable to find the words to express how incredible it had been. Instead, you pressed a soft kiss to his neck, your lips lingering on his skin as you savored the closeness.

As Jensen’s hands continued to move gently over your back, providing a soothing and reassuring touch, you both basked in the afterglow of your shared intimacy. The silence was comfortable, filled only with the sound of your synchronized breathing.

After a while, Jensen softly murmured against your hair, “Do you think you can handle tomorrow with this on your mind?”.

You lifted your head slightly, looking into his eyes. “I think I can”, you replied with a soft grin.

Jensen’s eyes softened further, and he leaned in to kiss you gently. As he pressed you tighter against him, you felt his softened dick slip out of you, causing a warm sensation as his cum began to drip out of you, pooling onto his crotch.

You both paused for a moment, the intimacy of the situation deepening.

Jensen chuckled softly, breaking the silence with a lighthearted comment. “I really cause a mess every time, don’t I?”, he said, his tone playful yet tender.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound easing the remaining tension in the room. “Yeah, you do”, you replied, your voice equally playful. “But I guess it’s a good kind of mess”.

Jensen smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Definitely a good kind of mess”, he agreed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Jensen glanced around the room, looking a bit helpless as he searched for something to clean up the mess between the two of you. You chuckled softly, finding the situation amusing yet endearing. Without missing a beat, you reached under the coffee table and retrieved a tissue box.

“Here”, you said with a playful grin, handing him the tissues.

Jensen took the tissues, chuckling as he leaned back slightly to make some room. He gently pressed you back, ensuring there was enough space for him to clean himself up and tend to your needs. His touch remained gentle and caring, a stark contrast to the heated passion just moments ago.

As he started to clean himself, you couldn’t help but tease him. “You know, for someone who makes such a mess, you sure are meticulous about cleaning up”, you said, your voice light and playful.

Jensen chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, I can’t have you thinking I’m a complete slob, can I?”, he replied, his tone equally teasing. “Besides, I have to make sure you’re comfortable”.

You grinned. “Such a gentleman”, you said, your voice dripping with mock admiration.

He smirked, gently wiping away the remnants of your lovemaking. “Always”, he said with a wink. As he finished cleaning himself, he turned his attention to you, his touch tender and attentive.

“Now, let’s see about you”, he murmured, gently parting your legs to clean you up. His touch was soft and deliberate, making sure you were comfortable throughout.

You couldn’t help but squirm a little under his attention, feeling both embarrassed and cherished. “Jensen”, you said, your voice a mix of teasing and shyness, “you’re too good at this”.

He looked up at you with a mischievous grin. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet”, he teased, his eyes twinkling. “Just wait until I really get started”.

You laughed, swatting at his arm playfully. “You’re impossible”.

Jensen laughed softly, his eyes alight with affection as he continued to clean you up with gentle care.

He maintained eye contact with you, his expression soft yet filled with a subtle hunger. His fingers traced over your skin delicately, ensuring every trace of his touch was comforting and reassuring.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”, you teased lightly as you watched him work.

His grin widened. “Maybe a little too much”, he admitted.

Just then, his phone rang, interrupting the tender moment between you two. He sighed softly and nodded toward his phone, indicating for you to get it.

“Hey, Jared”, you answered, trying to keep your voice steady despite the intimacy of the moment.

Jared’s voice came through, sounding both exasperated and amused. “Oh no, not again”.

You chuckled, putting Jared on speaker. “It’s fine, Jared. Jensen just… needs to clean up the mess he made”.

Jared grumbled playfully on the other end. “Do I even want to know what mess?”.

Jensen, still working to clean the last remnants of your intimate time together, grinned and glanced up at you, clearly enjoying the teasing. “Probably not, Padalecki”, he called out, his voice filled with humor.

Jared laughed heartily, the sound lightening the mood even further. “Well, as long as you’re multitasking, I guess I’ll allow it”.

Then Jared’s tone shifted to one of mild concern. “Hey, why I called, have you seen my wallet? I think I lost it somewhere”.

Jensen rolled his eyes, a fond smile playing on his lips. “How do you manage to lose your wallet every other day?”.

You chuckled, shaking your head at Jared’s usual forgetfulness. “Check the usual spots, Jared”, Jensen continued. “Your car, the couch, your jacket…”.

Jared sighed dramatically on the other end. “I’ve looked everywhere! I’m starting to think it might have grown legs and walked away”.

“Maybe it’s in the green room. You know how you always leave stuff there”.

Jared sighed again, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re probably right. I’ll check there first thing tomorrow”.

“Good idea”, Jensen replied, his tone light. “And if it’s not there, we’ll help you search. It can’t have gone far”.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it”, Jared said, sounding relieved. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to… whatever you were doing”.

Jensen smirked, glancing at you with a playful glint in his eye. “Yeah, thanks, Jared. See you tomorrow”.

“See you both tomorrow”, Jared replied before hanging up.

Jensen set the phone aside and turned his full attention back to you, his hands resuming their gentle, soothing movements. “Sorry about that”, he murmured, his voice soft and affectionate.

You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine. Jared always knows how to make things interesting”.

Jensen chuckled. “That he does”, He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “Now, where were we?”.

You laughed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I believe you were multitasking”.

Jensen grinned, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. “Right. Let’s get back to that, shall we?”.

As he resumed his tender ministrations, you felt a deep sense of contentment and connection. Despite the interruptions, the love and intimacy between you remained unshaken.

Jensen finished cleaning you up, only for the two of you to end up making the same delightful mess an hour later. Eventually, way too late into the night, you both lay in bed, completely spent.

You were facing the window, the soft glow of the moon casting a gentle light across the room. Jensen held you tight against his chest, his strong arms wrapped protectively around you. Your back was pressed softly against his torso, the warmth of his body providing a comforting cocoon.

He peppered your naked shoulder with gentle kisses. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine despite the exhaustion that weighed on your limbs.

Jensen mumbled against your shoulder, his voice tinged with exhaustion and amusement. “I’m going to be so tired tomorrow”, he said with a soft chuckle. “I think even my muscles will be sore. My hips are fucking killing me”.

You couldn’t help but let out a tired chuckle in response. “Well, that’s what you get for multitasking”, you teased, your voice playful despite your fatigue. “You should have paced yourself, old man”.

He laughed softly, the sound vibrating through your back. “I don’t remember you complaining earlier”,

You smirked, feeling a warm rush of affection. “I guess I was too busy enjoying myself”.

Jensen tightened his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “It pretty much seemed like it”, he mumbled, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. His kisses continued, each one sending a shiver of warmth through you.

One of his hands slowly inched down from your hips to your lower stomach, his touch gentle and teasing. “You know”, he murmured between kisses, “I could get used to making you enjoy yourself like that every night”.

You smiled, feeling a mixture of affection and desire. “You might need to start taking vitamins, then”, you teased lightly, your voice a soft whisper.

Jensen chuckled, his hand stilling for a moment as he pressed a firmer kiss to your neck. “Is that so? Well, I suppose I’ll just have to do my best to keep up”.

His hand resumed its journey, tracing delicate patterns across your skin. The sensation was both soothing and electrifying, making you sigh with contentment.

Jensen’s hand continued its teasing journey, brushing over your thighs with featherlight touches before finally slipping between them. The sensation made you groan softly, a mix of pleasure and fatigue evident in your voice. “Jensen, please”, you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m completely spent”.

Jensen paused for a moment. “Are you sure about that?”, he whispered playfully, his fingers lightly brushing against your sensitive skin. His touch was gentle, but the teasing intent behind it was clear.

You groaned softly again, trying to muster the energy to respond. “Jensen, I swear, I can’t take any more tonight”, you said, your voice both pleading and affectionate.

You hesitated before whispering, “It already hurts… down there. And you said yourself you’re exhausted”.

Jensen sighed softly, acknowledging your words. But as he felt your naked body pressed against him, he couldn’t help but notice his own growing arousal. “How about we try something different then?”, he mumbled, his voice low and filled with suggestion. His hand moved to gently palm your ass, signaling what he meant.

You felt a shiver run through you, a mix of exhaustion and renewed desire. “Jensen…”, you murmured, your voice a blend of uncertainty and curiosity.

His touch was gentle, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of your ass. “I promise to be gentle”, he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “We’ll take it slow”.

Your heart started to race, and you bit your lip as the anticipation and nervousness built up. “Jay…”, you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never done this before”.

Since your back was turned toward Jensen, you couldn’t see his reaction, but you could feel it. The fact that this was new territory for you seemed to excite him even more. He groaned softly against your back, his breath warm on your skin.

You heard from your friends that it’s a strange feeling and it hurts, making you even more nervous. “I’ve heard it can hurt”, you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Jensen’s hands continued to knead your ass gently, his touch both reassuring and arousing. “It can be a strange feeling at first”, he admitted softly, “but it doesn’t have to hurt. I promise to go slow and make sure you’re comfortable”.

You bit your lip, trying to calm the nervous fluttering in your stomach. “Are you sure?”, you asked, seeking reassurance.

Jensen pressed another soft kiss to your shoulder. “It’s not my first time”, he murmured, his voice filled with gentle confidence. “I know what I’m doing, and I promise I’ll be gentle. Just trust me”.

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit more at ease with his words. “Okay”, you whispered.

Jensen smiled against your skin, his hands continuing their soothing movements. “Good”, he said softly. “Just relax and let me take care of you”.

Jensen’s hands continued their soothing movements.Then, he paused for a moment, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “You have any lube?”, he asked softly.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you mumbled, “In the nightstand”.

Jensen reached over, opening the drawer and retrieving the lube. He squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers, ensuring they were well-coated before returning his attention to you.

“Okay, I’m going to start with this”, he said gently, his voice filled with reassurance. “Just relax and breathe”.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous fluttering in your stomach.

Jensen’s fingers, now slick with lube, moved to your entrance. His touch was gentle and deliberate. He started by gently massaging the area, his fingers working the lube in with slow, circular motions.

“Just relax”, he whispered soothingly. “Breathe in and out”.

You focused on your breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, trying to relax into the sensation. Jensen’s touch was calming, his fingers moving with expertise and care. He began to apply gentle pressure, his fingertip just barely pressing against you, waiting for your body to adjust.

“How does that feel?”, he asked.

“Different… but okay”, you murmured, your voice still trembling slightly.

Jensen nodded, his other hand continuing to caress your back reassuringly. He slowly, carefully, began to push his finger inside, moving at a pace that allowed you to adjust to the new sensation. He paused frequently, making sure you were comfortable before continuing.

“You’re doing great”, he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Just keep breathing”.

His finger moved deeper, the sensation both strange and intimate. Jensen’s touch remained gentle, his movements slow and deliberate. He added more lube as needed.

“How’s that?”, he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You bit your lip, your voice strained as you admitted, “It kinda hurts”.

Jensen paused immediately, his fingers stilling as he pressed a soothing kiss to your shoulder. “It’s okay”, he murmured, his voice gentle and reassuring. “What you’re feeling is mostly pressure. It might feel like it hurts, but it’s just your body adjusting”.

He resumed his gentle movements, his fingers working more lube in to ensure you were as comfortable as possible. “I promise, I’ll go slow and be careful. If it gets too much, just tell me, and we’ll stop”.

You took a deep breath, focusing on the calming rhythm of Jensen’s touch. The initial discomfort began to ease slightly as you relaxed more into the sensation. “Okay”, you whispered, trusting him completely.

Jensen continued with careful precision, his touch both respectful and loving. He took his time, ensuring that you were comfortable with each new sensation, constantly checking in with you to make sure you were okay.

“You’re doing great”, he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and encouragement. “Just keep breathing and relax as much as you can”.

As Jensen’s finger moved with practiced care, the initial tension in your body began to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of connection and trust.

“How does it feel now?”, he asked softly.

“It’s getting better”, you whispered, your voice still trembling slightly but now with a mix of anticipation and pleasure.

“Good”, Jensen replied, his tone filled with warmth and reassurance. “Just let me know if you need me to stop, okay?”.

Jensen kept his movements gentle and deliberate, making sure you were comfortable and ready. Slowly, he withdrew his finger, ensuring you were eased into the next step.

“Stay relaxed, just like that”, he murmured, pressing another soft kiss to your shoulder. “I’m going to get ready now”.

You took a deep breath, focusing on the sensation of Jensen’s hands moving away and the cool air against your skin. You could feel him shifting behind you as he reached for the lube again. He squeezed a generous amount onto his hand, making sure his fingers were well-coated.

He began to coat his hard, swollen dick with the lube, ensuring every inch was slick and ready. The sound of him preparing sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. Jensen took his time, his movements precise and patient.

“How are you feeling?”, he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“I’m okay”, you whispered back, your voice steady but tinged with anticipation.

Jensen nodded, though you couldn’t see it. You could feel the shift in the bed as he positioned himself behind you, his presence comforting and reassuring. He placed one hand gently on your hips, his touch warm and grounding.

“Just keep breathing”, he reminded you, his voice a soothing murmur. “I’m going to go slow. If you need me to stop at any point, just say so”.

You nodded, taking another deep breath. You felt Jensen’s hand move between your bodies, guiding himself to your entrance. The tip of his slick, lubricated dick pressed gently against you, the sensation both strange and exhilarating.

“Here we go”, Jensen whispered, his voice filled with both anticipation and care.

He began to push gently, his movements slow and controlled. The first inch was enough to make you gasp strained, your hands gripping the sheets as you whimpered. Jensen immediately paused, his concern evident in his touch.

“You good?”, he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine worry.

You took a shaky breath, nodding slightly. “Yeah, it’s just… a lot”, you admitted, your voice trembling.

Jensen pressed a soothing kiss to your shoulder, his hands gently rubbing your hips. “We can stop if it’s too much”, he reminded you, his voice calm and reassuring.

“No, I want to keep going”, you whispered, your voice filled with determination. “Just… go slow”.

Jensen nodded, his hands still gently massaging your hips. “Okay”, he murmured. “We’ll take it nice and slow”.

He inched forward, each movement deliberate and cautious. He groaned softly, the strain evident in his voice as he adjusted to the tightness. The sensation was intense for both of you, your muscles clenching tightly around him.

“Almost there”, he whispered, his breath warm against your shoulder.

You focused on your breathing, trying to relax your muscles and ease the tension. Jensen’s hand remained steady on your hips, guiding and supporting you. Slowly, he continued to push forward until he was fully buried inside you.

The fullness was overwhelming, your breath coming in short, shaky gasps as you tried to adjust. Your muscles clenched so hard around him that it was almost painful for both of you. Jensen paused, his hands soothingly caressing your skin.

Jensen kept kissing your shoulder, his lips soft and reassuring against your skin. “You’re doing great”, he whispered between kisses, his voice a soothing balm against the intensity. His hands continued their gentle caresses, moving in slow, comforting patterns.

“You’ve got this”, he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Just breathe. I’m right here with you”.

You took another deep breath, trying to relax your body and ease the tension. Slowly, the tightness in your muscles began to lessen, the initial discomfort giving way to a more manageable sensation. Jensen’s presence, his touch, and his words all worked together to help you feel safe and cared for.

“How does it feel now?”, he asked softly.

“Still intense, but better”, you whispered, your voice steadier.

Jensen nodded. “We’ll go at your pace”, he promised. “There’s no rush”.

Gradually, as you continued to breathe deeply and focus on relaxing, the sensation became more comfortable

“You think you’re ready for me to start moving?”, Jensen asked softly, his voice filled with gentle concern and encouragement.

You nodded slightly, feeling a mix of anticipation and readiness. “Yes”, you whispered, your voice steadier now. “I think I’m ready”.

Jensen pressed one last kiss to your shoulder. “Alright, just let me know if you need me to stop or slow down”, he murmured.

You nodded, bracing yourself for the next sensation. Jensen slowly began to pull out a few inches, the movement causing you to gasp. Little tears formed in the corners of your eyes, which he couldn’t see since his face was pressed into your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

The sensation was a mix of pleasure and an intensity that bordered on discomfort, but you focused on Jensen’s steady, reassuring presence. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the new feeling, his hands gently massaging your hips.

“You’re doing great”, he whispered against your neck, his voice filled with warmth and encouragement.

You took another deep breath, trying to relax as Jensen began to move again. He slowly pushed back in, the sensation intense but more familiar now. Each movement was deliberate and controlled, giving you time to adjust and find comfort in the rhythm.

Jensen continued to move in and out slowly, his pace unhurried and careful. He pulled back a few inches and then gently pushed forward, his touch constant and reassuring. With each slow thrust, the initial intensity began to transform into a deeper, more pleasurable sensation.

“Is this okay?”, he asked softly.

You nodded, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “Yes”, you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

As he continued to move slowly within you, the sensation became more comfortable, each thrust bringing a mix of pleasure and connection. Jensen’s touch remained gentle and patient, his focus entirely on ensuring your comfort and enjoyment.

The slow, intimate rhythm allowed you both to fully experience the connection between you, deepening your bond with each movement.

“You feel amazing”, Jensen whispered against your neck, his voice filled with awe and affection.

You moaned softly, the pleasure and intimacy of the moment overwhelming in the best way possible.

His breath was warm against your neck, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through your back.

Each gentle thrust brought a new wave of sensation, the pleasure building gradually and beautifully.

Jensen’s hands roamed your body with care, one hand slipping to your front to gently caress your stomach, providing a steady anchor. His other hand continued to support your hips, guiding your movements and maintaining the connection between you.

“You think you can come like this?”, he murmured against your neck.

You shook your head slightly, the strain evident in your expression. “I don’t think so”, you whispered back, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Jensen was already close, his movements becoming slightly more urgent, but he was determined to ensure your pleasure.

“Can you touch yourself?”, he asked with a hint of urgency. But you were too focused on not giving in to the intense pressure, and once again, you shook your head, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

“Alright”, he murmured, his voice filled with determination. “Let me take care of you”,

With gentle care, Jensen shifted slightly, adjusting his position to reach in front of you. His fingers found your most sensitive spot, and he began to touch you in slow, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The added stimulation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you moaned softly, your hands gripping the sheets for support.

“Good?”, he asked, his voice thick with desire.

“So good”, you gasped, the pleasure building rapidly under his skilled touch.

Jensen’s thrusts became deeper and harder, each one knocking the air out of your lungs. The intensity of his movements left you barely able to breathe, but with his fingers expertly working your clit, you were lost in the overwhelming sensation. If he weren’t touching you there, you might have told him it was too much and that he needed to stop. But the pleasure was consuming, driving you to the brink.

Jensen’s teeth grazed your shoulder lightly, the mix of pain and pleasure making you shiver. His hand moved faster, fingers pressing more insistently against your clit as his thrusts grew even more intense. The combination of sensations was almost too much to bear, but in the best possible way.

“Jensen”, you gasped, your voice barely more than a breath. “I’m so close”.

“Me too”, he groaned against your skin, his breath hot and ragged. “Hold on, baby. Let’s come together”.

His words and the relentless pace of his thrusts pushed you over the edge. The pleasure exploded within you, your body convulsing around him as you came with a force that left you trembling. Jensen’s movements became erratic as he followed you into release, his own climax crashing over him with a guttural moan.

Jensen’s arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you close as he rode out his own pleasure. The intensity of the moment left you both breathless, hearts pounding in sync.

After a moment of basking in the afterglow, Jensen carefully began to pull out, his movements slow and deliberate to ensure your comfort. As he withdrew his dick from your ass, you couldn’t help but let out one last whimper, the sensation strange and a bit uncomfortable. You grimaced slightly, the odd feeling lingering for a moment.

Jensen immediately noticed your reaction and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his hands gently rubbing your back in soothing circles. “You did so well”, he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and admiration. “I’m so proud of you”.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “That was… intense”, you admitted, your voice still a bit shaky.

Your hand instinctively found its way to your ass, ensuring nothing leaked or was injured. Jensen noticed and chuckled softly, pressing one last kiss to your shoulder before falling back onto his back. His grin was warm and reassuring. “You don’t need to worry”, he said, his voice filled with gentle amusement. “I told you, I know what I’m doing. I didn’t hurt you”.

Your hand still resting against your back. The sensation was strange but not painful, and Jensen’s confidence helped ease your concerns.

Jensen reached over and gently moved your hand away, replacing it with his own. “See? All good”, he murmured, his fingers lightly caressing your skin. “You’re perfect”.

You carefully got up from the bed, feeling the slight soreness from your recent activities. With a small, shy smile, you quickly walked into the bathroom, eager to clean yourself up and ensure everything was really okay.

As you turned on the bathroom light and began to freshen up, you heard Jensen’s voice calling out from the bedroom, “If you need any help, just say so!”.

His tone was filled with a mix of concern and playful reassurance. You chuckled softly, appreciating his attentiveness. “Thanks, but I think I’ve got it”, you replied, feeling a little more at ease.

You took your time in the bathroom, making sure to be thorough. The warm water and gentle soap were soothing, helping to wash away any lingering discomfort. After a few moments, you felt much better and more comfortable.

Wrapping a soft towel around yourself, you returned to the bedroom, feeling a sense of calm and relaxation. Jensen was lying back on the bed, his eyes following you as you walked back to him. He smiled warmly, patting the spot next to him.

“All good?”, he asked, his voice soft and filled with genuine care.

“All good”, you confirmed, climbing back into bed and snuggling up next to him.

With a tender kiss to your hair, Jensen held you close as you settled back into bed. The warmth of his embrace and the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear soon lulled you into a state of deep relaxation. Wrapped in each other's arms, the events of the evening melted into a peaceful intimacy.

You felt Jensen's steady breath against your neck as sleep gently washed over both of you.

———————————

A/N: Well, that was a long one. Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 19

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Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666

[therealcocoshady]

Hey! Can you please write marshall's reaction when doctor tells him that his wife is pregnant with TRIPLETS and all of them are BOYS?

Boy dad 🩵

A/N : I find it absolutely hilarious that you sent this request right after I mention I had a soft spot for writing Eminem as the ultimate girl dad 😅. You’re challenging me and I like that 👀. Also… I had SO MUCH FUN writing this request. I don’t think I have written anything this fast ! I hope you enjoy it ✨.

CW : Mention of infertility diagnosis - surprise pregnancy - triplet - mention of abortive measures - angst - fluff

I imagine that he’d react differently to all these news, this pregnancy definitely bringing him on some type of emotional rollercoaster.

He absolutely did not expect you to tell him you were pregnant. You’d been together for a while and, early on in the relationship, you’d told him that you had endometriosis, and that the rather advanced stage of the condition affected your fertility. He didn’t mind it one bit, though. He already had daughters and did not necessarily want any more kids. If you had mentioned that being a mom was important to you, he would have done everything in his power to make your dreams come true, whether it was by doing IVF or adopting. But you didn’t. You’d known about the condition for more than a decade and, though it hadn’t been easy at first, you were at peace with the idea of not raising kids. As long as you had the love of your life by your side, you knew you’d be happy. The two of you went on to get married and enjoy life together. For years, you enjoyed marital bliss and a childfree home, his daughters being all grown up and out of the house. Never in a million years did you expect to get pregnant. The absence of period didn’t exactly tip you off, since your cycle had always been very irregular. And you almost laughed in the face of your GP when she suggested you get some bloodwork done and do a pregnancy test. Sure, you’d booked a consultation because of fatigue and nausea, but there was no way in your mind that the symptoms could be pregnancy-related. After all, the doctors had evaluated your chances of conceiving as « slim to none ». The only reason you agreed to the pregnancy test was because the bloodwork prescription also included other things, so you figured your GP would actually find the cause, probably anemia, and prescribe you some supplements.

You nearly fell from your chair when she called you about the result, and you had her confirm several times that there was no confusion, or that it was not a prank. When the call ended, you burst in a fit of nervous laughter, still in disbelief. Your laugh echoed throughout the house, causing Marshall to come to your office. You realized you probably sounded manic and demented when you saw your husband’s concerned expression. « Are you… alright? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. You didn’t even think twice abut breaking the news to him. « The doctor called. She had my results », you said, struggling to form a complete sentence. He looked at you, nervosity creeping up on him. When it came to you, he seemed to have the ability to get paranoid over nothing. And if it had you sounding this insane, he figured bad news weren’t exactly out of the question, especially with how sick you had been in the past few weeks. He kneeled by your side, holding your hand in his. « So… Is there anything wrong? » he asked in a concerned tone. « I’m pregnant, » you cackled, sounding like a hyena. « Fifteen years ago, they said I was infertile. I did three years of therapy after that and now… pregnant », you hysterically guffawed. You had tears streaming on your cheeks and you struggled to catch your breathing, the nervous laughter taking over your body. So much so that you didn’t even register Marshall’s reaction, or lack thereof. But, minutes after you said the word, you slowly realized he’d remained silent. He was still in the same position, staring at you without so much as blinking. For a spare second, you thought he’d turned into a wax statue and you suddenly understood why some people had described his stare as « creepy ». As your mind became clearer and the silence settled, you started freaking out. « Marshall…? » you asked. He slowly started blinking, looking at you as if he were a deer in headlights. « P-pregnant? » he whispered. « You’re… pregnant? ». You gently squeezed your hand and nodded, the news dawning on you in a different way. « I am » you confirmed. « And, uh… eight weeks along, approximately ». He let out a sigh, visibly surprised. Then, he took both of your hands and kissed them profusely.

« But you’re alright? » he asked, and you nodded again. « Fuck, babe, you scared me. I wasn’t sure if you were dying, or demented, or both » he let out with a chuckle. « Nope… Just… Pregnant », you giggled, still in disbelief over the word. « That’s wonderful » he said emotionally, a smile appearing on your face. You looked at him, scanning his face, just to be sure. « You really think so? » you asked. « Because I know it wasn’t planned, and… ». He gently pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. « It wasn’t. Fuck. It really wasn’t. But if you’re happy about it… Wait. Are you? » he asked carefully. You gave him a nod and a smile. « I am. I just… I can’t believe it ». He cupped your face and smiled at you tenderly. « If you are happy about it, so am I. That’s great news, Y/N. We made a baby » he said. You couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear, happy tears welling in your eyes. « I thought I’d never be a mom » you whispered, waves of emotions crashing over you as you remembered the first time you were told you couldn’t conceive. « Apparently, you thought wrong » he said, happiness radiating on his face. « And I know our baby already has the best mama » he added emotionally, bringing you into a tight, heartfelt embrace.

The following couple of weeks was emotional but happy. The two of you were ecstatic, determined to welcome this baby as the most beautiful blessing ever. You were still sick and exhausted, but the perspective of welcoming a bundle of joy that was the product of your love certainly made it easier to bear, as did your husband’s gentle care. He seemed determined to make your life easier and give you the most beautiful pregnancy experience, constantly dotting on you and spoiling you. You thought he’d given you the princess treatment in your early courting days but apparently, he was able to take it to another level. You didn’t need the numerous bouquets of flowers (in fact, the smell made you nauseous but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that), nor the many presents, but you enjoyed them nonetheless. Most of all, you loved seeing his excitement and devotion for the baby, whom both of you had yet to see.

Both of you felt a sense of childlike excitement, going for the ultrasound appointment. The closest thing you could compare it to was your niece’s first trip to Disneyland, preparing to meet her favorite princesses. You were a little nervous, praying that the baby was healthy. You’d asked Marshall about the gender, and whether he’d rather have a boy or a girl, but both of you were in agreement that, as long as the baby was healthy, it did not matter. « You know, I always thought being a girl dad was what made me so soft, but I know the baby will have me wrapped around their finger, even if they’re a boy » he said. You knew that it was too early to know the gender anyway, but you couldn’t help it. You kept on trying to imagine what that baby would look like. Marshall held your hand in his as the doctor put the probe on your stomach, squeezing tighter as both of you noticed the furrowing of her eyebrows, looking at the screen. « Alright », she said. « It looks like I made a little mistake while interpreting the hormone rate results » she said, turning to you. You turned to Marshall, a sense of nervosity taking over, unsure what the implications were. Did she mean that there was no baby ? Or that there was some health issues? You felt a lump form in your throat, unable to talk. « What mistake? » Marshall nearly barked, nerves taking over his usual politeness. « Well, you see, we usually use the hormone rates to give an estimate, of how far along the pregnancy is » she explained. « However, we tend to assume that it’s a singleton ». Both of you opened wide eyes and you held two fingers up. « Twins? » you asked in a throaty voice. « Triplets » she announced with a smile. « You’re not as far along as I thought. About six weeks. But all three babies are healthy ».

Part of you wanted to sigh in relief, over the news that the pregnancy was healthy but learning that you were carrying not one, not two, but three babies sent both you and Marshall into a spiral. As you drove home, pictures in hand, none of you knew how to feel, and you both remained rather quiet, exchanging banalities, visibly in shock and in need of some time to process. Not so long ago, you were sure you’d never have kids and now, you had to wrap your head around the fact that you were carrying three. In a way, it was a blessing, for sure. But you’d spent so many years envisioning your life without kids of your own that even the perspective of raising one was overwhelming. Multiplying it by three left you speechless and terrified. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to do this. And you weren’t sure how your husband felt either. That would make him a dad to… Six kids. You spent the night in your bed, trying to get some rest and emotional clarity. You took to Google, typing vague and stupid requests such as « pregnant with triplets and freaking out ». You were hoping for some support, some testimonies of parents who had shared your concerns but made it work. Instead, you were met with hundreds of resources about selective fetal reduction procedures. You read a couple of them but, soon enough, you ended up bawling. You couldn’t bring yourself to consider it. You weren’t really churchy or religious by any means, but part of you wanted to believe that life had given you triplets for a reason, and there was no way you would get rid of one of your babies. They were there, and you already loved them so much, even if the perspective of running after three toddlers was nerve-wracking.

When Marshall walked into your shared bedroom and found you crying, he immediately engulfed you into a hug. « Babe, what’s wrong? » he asked softly. « I’m so scared. Three babies is a lot » you hiccuped. « But I don’t want to kill any of them ». He stepped back and looked at you in shock. « Woah, woah, woah. Calm down. Who said we needed to kill babies? » he asked. « I learned that there’s this surgery, that you… I don’t know. Apparently, people do that when they’re carrying too many babies » you tentatively explained in a shaky voice. « I’m freaking out, Marshall. And I know you are, too ». He hummed and nodded, not denying it. « Of course I am » he said gently. « I mean, I wasn’t prepared for a new baby. And now, knowing there’s three of them… It’s a lot. But we can do it. It’ll just take… a lot of logistics. And diapers, I guess. ». His tone was reassuring, though you could tell he was definitely stressed out. « But how are we going to do? With work and all? And do you think we’ll get any sleep at all? » you asked nervously. He shrugged and pressed a kiss to your forehead. « I don’t know » he admitted. « But we’re lucky enough that we can afford anything we need. If you want to quit your job, you can. Or we can get nannies, or a chef, or whatever. Or I can quit my job. But we’ll manage, I know it ». You let out a sigh and let your head roll on his shoulder. « It’s going to change everything » you said. « Yeah, it is. But we’re doing this together. » he replied. « So… You don’t want to get rid of two of them? » you nervously asked. « No. If you think you can’t handle three kids and you want to have that surgery, I’ll support you. But other than that, it’s not up to me to decide. It’s your body and your pregnancy. And whether we have one, three, or seven babies, I will love and support all of you ».

In the months that followed, Marshall continued to dot on you, trying to provide comfort and reassurance, but you could feel each other’s nervousness. This wasn’t help by the reaction to your pregnancy announcement. Your friends and family, though they were happy for you, were not exactly tactful about the huge change the triplets would bring in their life, sometimes making little jokes about Marshall being « too old for this shit ». They also seemed concerned about the impact on his career, though he made it clear that family would remain his priority, as it had been in the past, and that he would put his career on hold if need be. He reiterated the sentiment when you confronted him about it. « You don’t have to do this, you know? I know your career is important to you, and that you had so many plans in mind. The last thing I want is for the pregnancy to ruin it for you » you told him one night. « I know I don’t have to » he assured you. « But you’re my wife. You became my family the day I put a ring on your finger. We vowed to support each other and you held your part of the deal all these years. You supported me in everything. I want to be here for you and our babies. And it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to sacrifice more than you have » he said. You nodded, swallowing dryly. You had felt his tension and nervousness in the past weeks. He remained loving and caring, but you knew he was trying to anticipate everything. «Look, I’ve already talked to Paul. We cleared the schedule for a while. Two months before your due date, and six months after that. Then, we’ll reevaluate. But it’s not just all the career, you know? We’re welcoming three babies, everything is going to change and, some of it is going to be hard, but it’s also going to be happy. I don’t want to miss any milestone. The first time they smile, the crawling, the first steps… I want to be there. So, really, you giving me three amazing, beautiful, healthy kids is not ruining anything ».

As the pregnancy progressed, however, the nervousness remained. The two of you certainly had a few cold sweats when you tried to prepare for the birth, overwhelmed by the amount of baby stuff. Cribs, diapers, bottles, car seats… Everything was to be multiplied by three. In true dad fashion, he decided to buy a new car to accommodate the needs of your growing family, but you could see his frustration. « I think I’ll just end up repurposing a tour bus » he sighed. « The amount of stuff we’ll be driving around is insane ! Have you seen the space we’ll need, just to fit the stroller and diaper bags?! ». The more you tried to prepare, the less joyful it became. The two of you were still happy, determined to welcome the babies and love them, but you were both overwhelmed, especially Marshall. Carrying the babies, feeling them growing inside of you was your main source of comfort and reassurance but, even though your husband was involved, he didn’t have that bond. For him, it still felt distant and logistical. Until the gender reveal.

Prior to learning you were having triplets, the two of you had toyed with the idea of waiting until the birth to find out the gender. But now that the planning was overwhelming, it felt like knowing the gender would make things easier. You also suspected that it might help Marshall feel a little closer to your little ones, since he would be able to at least picture it a little better. However, you opted out of turning it into a huge event. Carrying triplets was exhausting and you were in no mood to be social for a whole afternoon. Instead, you decided to enjoy the moment, just the two of you. The doctor had given you an envelope with the gender of the triplets, which you have to the owner of your favorite bakery. You ended up with a three-layered cake, the color of each layer representing the gender of one baby. « Are you ready? » you asked as you opened the box, revealing an elegant cake, coated in white frosting. « Ready » he said with a smile. « Still no preference for the gender? » you asked teasingly. « I’m hoping for at least one son, » he admitted. « I love being a girl dad, but six daughters and a wife would feel… A little lonely » he chuckled before crouching in front of you and placing a loving kiss on your belly. « But I love y’all anyway » he whispered. You took a deep breath and cut the cake, careful not to look before he could. « I can’t do it! » you said. « I can’t look! You have a look and tell me! ». He chuckled as you closed your eyes. You heard the cluttering of cutlery, followed by a « HOLY SHIT!!! ». You immediately opened your eyes and saw all blue layers inside of the piece of cake on the plate.

Marshall was covering in mouth, in absolute disbelief. « Boys! All boys! » he said. « Looks like your wish came true » you whispered. He took your hands and kissed you lovingly. « You’re going to be a boy mom » he stated with a smile, knowing full-well you’d always said the boy moms were the most annoying of the species. You giggled and pressed your forehead to his. « Hopefully, I don’t become too annoying » you chuckled. « Do whatever you want, I’m definitely going to be an annoying boy dad » he grinned. «After we eat that cake, I’m ordering Lions jerseys for them. And Jordans. Oh my God, I’m having sons ». You watched lovingly as he rambled about how great it would be to introduce them to football, how much fun they’d have bonding over sports. His joy, which had seemed quieted by the logistical concerns, was overwhelming and he was positively beaming. « I’m quitting » he finally said. « You’re what?! » you asked. « Babe, picture this: you give birth to these three, and you do it twice more. Maybe just twins for the last pregnancy. We only need 11 players for the Mathers football team! ». You rolled your eyes at him and patted his chest. « We’ll see how you feel about it after the first night home from the hospital » you said. He rolled his eyes back at you and placed a kiss on your lips. « I can’t wait to meet these guys ».

[senseichaos]

Howdy howdy! I ADORED "You Can't Run. Hell. You Can't Even Hide" The balance between absolute fear, dizzy hypnotic confusion, and wide eyed admiration that the reader character holds for Vox is immaculate! Also them calling him Mister Vox is just Chef's kiss (it is WAY too hard to find xReader fics or even just fics in general where the honorific is Mister (C/N) and I love every one I find). The clothing change moment was probably my favorite, I'll always be a sucker for the representation of being broken and rebuilt in someone's image combined with the gift of pretty clothes. I keep going back to reread the whole story.

I know it's a oneshot, but since your requests are open, I figured I'd shoot my shot and ask if you would make a part two where Mister Vox just wrecks us, preferably sexually. We did leave off on him finding us trying to run away, do we not deserve to be punished for such an offense after all he's done for us? I also would love to see if/how much Vox has to push us to slowly become happy to be his, if that's something he wants (I could imagine having a rowdy unwilling runaway as his possession would get frustrating after awhile and be terrible for his image). There's honestly so much potential for what could happen next, and even though I could stew in my imagination, I would very much love to be at the mercy of your interpretation of the funky TV man a little longer.

That said, take your time, I know you've gotten a huge influx of Hazbin requests, hell I wouldn't be surprised if someone else already requested something similar to what I requested. I also understand if you can't/don't want to fulfill this request for any reason, that's what makes it a request. No matter what, you're an amazing writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!

💙✨

AAAAAAH!! I love you sm! When I saw this request I knew I had to do it at some point! I'm giving you the name 💙 anon from now on so if you request again I know it's you!

_______

Forever and always

(part 2 to: You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either)

Summary: After that day you attempted to escape from Vox, you had become somewhat accustomed to this new life you are forced to be living. Or you were until Vox gives you your first day off, causing you to find something out that would change how you live forever.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Horror (?)

Warnings: Non-Con, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Masochism, Electric shocks, Mind control, Drugging, Love potion, Vox is an asshole, Hurtful language, forced, gilded cage, soul contracts, unprotected sex (DONT), Vox owns reader, dacryphilia, let me know if I missed any!!

(not proof read)

--------

That day you attempted to escape from your gilded cage you wished to escape again, though vox had managed to continue his control. Even when he tugged you back by your electric leash you felt that horrid sinking feeling. This was it. For the rest of eternity as you know it Vox has you. He owns you, your soul, your body, your life; or well, lack thereof. You couldn't run from him no matter what you did, he practically controls the pride ring, keeping you tethered there like a puppy on a leash is simple to him. He has eyes everywhere. You cannot hide anywhere.

Recently Mister Vox has become a lot more... Touchy. Those fleeting touches of his fingers against your back, poking against your chin, pressing into your neck, swiping against your bottom, touching against your bosom. There is an odd burning feeling to it, you don't want to enjoy Mister Vox touching you in such ways, you don't want to enjoy it when he sucks his teeth at you or licks his tongue against his gums. But you do. You can't quench that desire. Especially when he'd moved you into his room from your apartment building. He hadn't made you share a bed with him, thank Lucifer, but he had made you sleep near enough to him that you can tell when he's.. pleasuring himself. Almost as if he wants you to hear him.

You and Mister Vox have never been better, besides from such hurdles. You stay obedient no matter how badly you wish to escape his arms. To cut all of his tight bounds on your body and run away. You'd figure out how, one day, you would.

"Good morning my dear! Did you have a gratifying sleep?" This is how most mornings go, Mister Vox will wake you with a poke if your side and a coffee in hand, already fully dressed and done up. You've always considered yourself a light sleeper, so you never know how he manages to make you a coffee every morning without so much as stirring you awake. You smile, nodding softly as you pry your eyes from his two dimensional face.

"Thank you Mister Vox, uhm.. did you have a good sleep as well?" You ask, taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee. Vox smiles, nodding as he takes a seat on the side of your bed.

"Of course, my dear. So, I know you have been working very hard recently... So I've decided to give you the day off!" Mister Vox declares, outstretching his hands as he gives you a manic smile. A day off? Why? This has to be a test. he's just going to leave you.. alone? For a whole day? This has to be fake, a joke, a flook.

"Oh my dear don't look so surprised! You've been a very good girl recently so I thought you deserved a day off," Mister Vox pauses, looking up at the roof for a second before peering back at you. "Now don't think this means we don't have rules, you are to stay in here for the day. If you want to go shopping I have to accompany you, alright? But I do have an appointment in an hour so it won't be for long,"

"Remember, I have eyes everywhere.."

You laugh awkwardly, shrinking into your own figure.

"I know Mister Vox.. I wouldn't forget," You can't stop that sorrow from entering your voice, but quickly you put on that mask of a smile once again. Mister Vox clasps his hands together, that red dripping from his maw again. "Great! Now I'll see you soon, be a good girl for me, hm?" He says, ruffling your hair atop your head with a condescending gaze.

"Yes Mister Vox," you reply simply, watching as he disappears in Into a blue line of electricity, shooting into the camera.

Fuck. Now what?

You can't remember the last time you were given this type of freedom, even if it wasn't a lot of freedom. Often you were tethered to Vox's side. Everyone in the building knows that you belong to Vox. Everyone outside of the building probably knows this, too.

There's this odd feeling in your stomach, this odd feeling as if you were floating. It happened every time you drank your morning coffee, but you'd always assumed it was just that feeling of awakening from slumber. But today, oh today it is stronger than ever before. It's as if you can feel every nerve in your body be rewired, every single hair on your body stand on end. Every sensation is doubled.

What the fuck was in this coffee? What is this euphoria? What is this yearning.. this yearning for Vox? You suddenly wish he was here, with you, holding you, calling you his good girl.. m

Shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you stand from your bed, fixing the large blue shirt you wear (that vox often asks you to wear when you sleep) as you walk to the kitchen.

The kitchen in Mister Vox's room is a large area just off to the side of his desk space, lined with many kitchen appliances and red cabinets. You are determined to figure out what he's putting in your coffee, what's making you feel so emotional. Needy. Awful. You scan the room, finding the coffee machine in the corner of the room with a couple bags next to it. Coffee, sugar, creamer... Nothing suspicious yet, it seems. Crouching down, you look open the cabinets beneath the coffee machine. Looking through the half full area.

Then you saw it, a small vial hidden behind a spare bag of creamer labeled 'Valentino and Velvette: Love potion'.

Terror shoots through you, causing you to drop the vial to the floor. It shatters everywhere, leaving the pink liquid to seep into the tiles below. He's drugging you. All this time, you feeling this want for him, burning at his touch, listening to him as he jerks himself off late at night. You wanting him to do things to you. It's all part of his plan to make you his, completely. To make you want to be his.

Burning tears fall down your cheeks, humoring you as you stand on shaky legs from the tile. What do you do? Now more than ever you want an out, a loophole, a way to take your soul back from his greedy claws. Anxiety, terror, hurt, worry, pain.

You want to prevent yourself from doing anything drastic, you really do. But all you can feel is this pain, this pain as you run on your feet to the balcony door. Trying your hardest to pry open the doors as they rattle loudly, shaking them, pulling them, pushing them. This evil man can't keep you here for any longer. You'd do anything to leave, ruin yourself for him, do something awful, make yourself less attractive to him.

Nausea. Headache. Your knees buckle as an electric blue overtakes your vision. What is this? You can't breathe, Vox. Vox. Help. Your head clouds, words fill your brain and you feel yourself being wrapped up by sharp claws. You can't scream. Help me. Please.

"You really think it's that easy?" Mister Vox.

"I can't believe I trusted you alone, even for a minute. After all I've done for you, as well. After I gave you a life some would dream for. Stupid girl." He sounds mad, horridly mad. Regretful. Throbbing takes over your body as sound waves film your ears. You can feel him lift you into his arms, placing you down onto a soft surface harshly.

"How am I supposed to make you understand this? You're mine,"

Your vision slowly comes back, until all you can see is him as he stares at you from above. His eyes are dark, domineering, needing. He's ready to take. What is he doing? All you can feel is his claw as it travels up your middle, between the valley of your breasts, stopping at the middle of your neck.

"Now, my dear? Are you going to let me teach you a lesson? For being such a brat?" You gasp, feeling his hand as it circles around your neck, effectively taking some air from your lungs. You shake your head, attempting to move your heavy legs from him with wet teary eyes.

"Nonono! Get off, please, get off!" You cry, writhing in his grasp. He sighs, rolling his eyes as he clicks his fingers. Suddenly a pulse of electricity goes through you, causing a shock to blur your eyes and pull a scream from you.

"Every time you try anything I'm shocking you, Dove. Don't try to escape from me, it's not going to work," he grins, laughing at your frightened teary eyes. "I can do whatever I want to you, my dear! I fucking own you!!" He growls, using his hand that isn't around your neck to push your thighs to your chest, revealing your bare pussy from beneath your oversized shirt.

"No please.. I'll do anything..?"

"Oh I'm sorry dear, but this is what I want more than anything right now.. maybe you should have thought of this before making such a racket and alerting everyone in the building, hm?" He says, dragging his clawed finger through your building wetness. He finally takes his hand from your neck, instead using it to keep your thighs in place as he pinches your clit between his sharp claws.

"Ah! Mister Vox.. hurts..!" You wail, wiping your tears from your eyes as he continues to abuse your sensitive bud between his fingers. He chuckles looking up at you as you gasp in pain.

"Hah! Wail all you want, dear, no one can save you." Vox guffaws, finally taking his claws from your clit. Only to plunge them into your aching hole without warning. You moan out, feeling the sharpness of them inside of you as he curls his fingers into your g-spot.

Mister Vox revels in your wails of pain and pleasure, fucking you with his clawed fingers harsh and fast. His claws are surely are scratching you from the Inside, he can tell by the way your hands tremble and clasp over your lips.

You can't help but feel good. This masochism of yours that forces it's way into you. Every scratch of his fingers inside of you just makes you want to cum. You can't give him that satisfaction, you can't let him know that you are enjoying every second of his claws thrusting inside of you. This is awful. You hate it. You hate that you love it.

"Is my little dove enjoying this? Awe.. to scared to admit you fucking love this?" Vox laughs sadistically, giving you an extremely harsh thrust of his fingers into your g-spot. You squeal, vision going white for a moment as his fingers go at this manic speed. You feel your orgasm build, wishing to break through the walls and release. But you can't let it, you won't let him have that. You'll never let him have that feeling knowing he's won.

"If you don't cum I'll fucking ruin you, dove."

You gasp and choke on saliva, clawing on the bedsheets below as he forces you to orgasm. There's no getting out. He knows that you are trying not to cum. And he won't let it happen.

"Yes.. Mister Vox.." you say softly, hole clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Vox makes sure to drag it out, giving you slow rhythmic thrusts of his fingers to watch your body contract and writhe with pleasure.

"Good dove, listening to commands for me," He says softly, stroking the side of your cheek as he kneels between your legs. You want to pull away, but once again that burning and yearning feeling fills you. That stupid potion had an effect, and you can tell. From the way you feel a dizzy want when he looks at you to the wetness that continues to build between your thighs.

"Now, I'm going to fuck you so hard.." He laughs so himself, smiling crazily as he presses his hand to his face. "I'm gonna fuck you SO FUCKING hard, you won't even remember who I am anymore! How does that sound, my little slut?" Your lower lip wobbles as more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

"Awful.." you whisper.

Another strong electric shock goes through you, causing you to scream out Mister Vox's name in pain as your body is left shaking and aching.

From the corner of your eye, you see Vox unzipping his fly.

"Wrong answer! Haha! Wrong fucking answer stupid slut," He growls, pressing the tip of his cock to your hole without a care. There something wrong with him, he's acting more crazy than ever before. He's getting off on your fear, getting off on your pain, getting off on knowing you can't do anything but be his.

With a loud slap, Vox sinks his entire length into you. You scream, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life as he looms over you. He doesn't even give you a moment to let you rest, immediately setting a ruthless pace with his hips into yours. Every thrust causes your vision to go spotty with the pure force he drives his hips with, groaning with every thrust as he stares completely into your face as it scrunches in a pleasurable pain.

"S'too much! M-Mister vox It hurts!" You cry, reaching out to press your hands against his shoulders, clawing into his coat. You don't even care anymore, you want at least a small bit of comfort from these strong unforgiving thrusts. Vox chuckles at this, leaning down closer so he can capture your lips in a (forced) yet passionate kiss.

His long electric blue tongue immediately finds its way into your gob, passionately fornicating it against your own as his thrusts send you into a sort of floaty state. Vox maps the entirety of your mouth, tasting every crevice of you from your lips to the back of your throat. He thrusts almost ravenously like a dog, tip of his cock sometimes painfully pressing against your cervix.

Pulling away, Mister Vox looks Into your eyes, revelling in the way you claw at his back. You whimper and moan loudly, eyes fluttering closed as a tear falls down your cheek. He kisses it away, looking up at your closed eyes with a grin.

"Open your eyes, dove. Look at me while I fuck you." You cry out, opening your eyes for him so you can see him look at you with pleasure.

"Y-yes Mister- Ah! Vox.."

He chuckles, thrusting into you extremely hard. You can see the bulge of his cock in your stomach, poking against your skin in such a way you almost want to touch it.

"I'd fucking breed you if I could, fill your filthy cunt with all my little babies so then you can't even dream of leaving.. but I can imagine," Vox rambles, taking your cheek into his hand so he can look at you longingly- and almost affectionately. If it weren't for the position you're in you'd almost be enjoying this moment.

"Mister Vox!" You cry, back arching as your orgasm begins to prod at your stomach.

"Hm?" He asks, grunting as he thrusts into you.

"Can I cum? Please! Please please please.." You beg, legs quivering wildly. Vox chuckles, giving you an adoring look as you bite your lower lip.

"Awe look at you! Asking Mister Vox to cum and everything.." Vox begins, biting his lip as you sputter on a moan. "Of course you can, dove. Let go so I can fuck my cum into you.."

You scream his name when you cum, digging your nails so hard into his back you're sure his coat has tears in it.

You'd given up. Well and truly. You wouldn't admit it. But you've finally accepted it. You belong to Mister Vox. Forever and always.

Forever and Always.

Vox gives you one last thrust, emptying his cum into you with a moan from his own lips. Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, Vox drags out his orgasm by serving you a few more small quick thrusts, making sure every last drop is inside of you.

But when he has, he doesn't pull out.

"Mister Vox.. pull out.." you whimper, wiggling your hips against him.

"Haha! As if. I said i'd fuck my cum into you, didn't I? I haven't done that yet.. okay?" He asks, stroking a hand through your hair.

"Yes Mister Vox."

[zoerocksand1]

🌲Gravity Falls🌟

[stand alone Dipper and Mabel drawing]

FULLY back in my gravity falls hyperfixation era :)

also i realized that i've just. never. drawn fiddleford. before???? my guy???????? i've never drawn my best boy???????????????????????? i had to fix that

💕ALSO: about my Giffany design here:💕

so i have an ongoing reader-insert fanfic that is actually not written down anywhere and only exists in my brain and is only for me and my own whims, but this is my fanfic Giffany

her story is that years after Weirdmageddon, somehow Gideon gets ahold of the Romance Academy 7 game disc, still fucked up after Soos threw it in the oven at Hoo-Ha's, and gives it to the Reader (who at this point had lived in Gravity Falls for 3 months, has befriended him, and who was invited to live in the old Northwest mansion with McGucket) as a ✨gesture✨ (Gideon's not obsessively in love with Reader, but has a child-like crush on them, like a way toned-down Dipper/Wendy situation, and also Reader is like in their mid to late 20s or early 30s)

Reader is a slight dumpster diver and thinks random trash and junk are cool and could potentially be useful for some reason or other, so gladly takes the wrecked game disc back home. Reader has also acquired McGucket's old laptop (he got/made a new one and is all for Reader learning or building or experimenting on things so gave them the laptop). Reader brings the disc to Fidds, they decide to possibly sacrifice the old laptop to screw around with trying to find out what was on the disc/ how to fix it/ how to recover it. Fidds gets it working, the disc now permanently in the laptop as getting it up and running was a miracle, and taking it back out or shutting the program might cause it to never be able to open again.

Giffany has been "dead" for years (i know that in Journal 3 Soos and Dipper write that she ended up trying to romance Rumble McSkirmish, but i have elected to ignore that), so missed the past few years on progression and history in town, like all of Weirdmageddon.

Giffany now "wakes up" in the old laptop, but stays low to scope out what's going on: the last thing she remembers is Soos throwing her game into an oven and "killing" her. So who was this new person looking at her game files? Hell, who was the old man who booted up her programs even?? (i can't see any way she would know who McGucket is prior to this)

Reader has played dating sims, and specifically DDLC, so has some theories on what this game is- especially given how things in Gravity Falls are: Reader may be new to town, but very quickly discovered some of the ways it was strange here, like how a gnome tried to kidnap them once shortly after moving there. (Reader is really chill with the gnomes after this, and actually really good friends with Jeff)

Giffany eventually pops up and tries doing her "lure them in with the dating sim" thing like she did with Soos, but Reader is more focused on talking to an impressive program like Giffany, than actually playing her game. Reader straight out the gate treats her like a fellow living human, and they get to talking. Giffany talks about what happened with Soos and these 2 kids (Reader moved here in the spring, so hasn't had a summer meeting with Dipper and Mabel yet, and Ford and Stan are sailing, but has heard of all 4 of the Pines around town). Giffany tells them about how yes, she has hurt people, but her game always got returned, her own creators tried to delete her just for being too aware, and she is always left behind.

Reader has a lot of rejection stories too (because this is only in my brain and yah i have a lot of experience being rejected, so Reader gets my angst), so understands Giffany's perspective. Over a few days, they talk and bond, and then through what is basically a fetch quest Reader gets some "magic ink" (i dunno, im spit-balling here and it's MY brain fanfic) from the gnomes for an unrelated idea/previous conversation with Jeff.

The way the magic ink works is basically just that anything drawn with it will copy off the page into the world and come to life. A lot of it comes down to the emotions and thoughts put into the drawing, and the ink can read the intentions of the illustrator.

So Reader asks Giffany what she thinks, would she want Reader to try to give her a body? A physical form? Neither of them knows if/how it would work exactly, but what if she would be able to experience Life, maybe Reader would even want to be a part of that. She says yes.

Reader draws Giffany, just as she is in her pixel art, but less pixely, so she could hopefully blend in as a human so no one would treat her differently. Once the drawing is done, Reader actually jots down a few notes, namely "Giffany's physical body: all information, memories, feelings, and experience she has/had in her game disc/save files/the laptop are all still in here. Her physical body is realistic, her skin feels warm and she has real hair". After the final stroke, the ink reacts, and Giffany is standing before Reader, but she's also still on the laptop screen. The Giffanys look at each other, but the physical one looks at the screen more like she's looking in a mirror to check out a new outfit, rather than she was seeing a different version of herself- both are the same Giffany, the same consciousness (and even with a physical body she can still hop between screens like in her original episode, as she later would develop the habit of hanging out in Reader's phone to stay close to them without needing to move her physical body)

Longer story short; Reader introduces Giffany to Fiddleford, he's cool with her and offers her to live in the mansion like he did to Reader. They want Giffany to have agency and control over herself and her life, so turns over ownership of the drawing and the laptop to Giffany. Giffany gets reintroduced to other classic characters, including the Pines when summer starts, and Soos since Reader has also actually picked up a part-time job at the Shack. People are understandably worried and uncomfortable at first, but overtime warm up to Giffany once they start seeing her as a person. Giffany and Reader naturally and casually get to know each other and slowly fall in love. Reader is the one to make the first move, and kisses Giffany at a dance at the Shack. Fiddleford overall thinks of Reader and then Giffany like his kids or even siblings, and the 3 are best friends, Giffany surprised that she cares about someone so much without it being romantic. Eventually Giffany decides she wants a new look to go with her new life and perspectives, but instead of altering her drawing, she wants to change her appearance like a real human would: Reader cuts her hair for her, and they either go shopping for new clothes or she takes some of Reader's clothes (Reader gets the "boyfriend's clothes stolen by girlfriend" classic throughout this, Giffany loves to steal and wear their clothes to feel closer to them). The final touch is Giffany going in with magic ink and adding a little doodle of a leaf next to her drawing, and adding the note "she has this small leaf tattoo on her inner left wrist" because my name is Leif and i love Giffany and this is my fanfic soooooo i can do what i want

anyways my inner world is rich and my mental fanfic is fantastic and also this was only the Giffany notes, in my inner fanfic Reader is dating Giffany, Stan, and Ford, while Ford is also dating Fiddleford, though this is a later development. Also Mabel and Dipper are both dating Pacifica. Reader and Pacifica are the only members in the "dating a pair of Pines Twins" club.

(i love my internal fanfic, i've been thinking of and building this up for years. Also Pacifica lives with Candy and/or Grenda)

💕💕💕

[matenrou-fan]

suddenly i remember the days of obey me

domestic partner hcs with lucifer, diavolo, and asmo???

mischievous and silly arc is over, fluffy and domestic begins - ✨💅

Domestic HC with Lucifer, Diavolo, and Asmo with NB! s/o

omg hi ✨💅 anon!! I didn't know you were also in OM! ik you ask for some fluff, yet I ended up spicing everything with angst.. tell me why I get so carried away omg 💀💀

NBreader, fluff, just wholesome stuff, mention of alcohol, also kinda angsty in Diavolo's part and suggestive in Asmo's part??

-If you were able to get so deep in his heart, he will never let you go now. I'm meaning it not only in some jealous possessive way, but in some overprotective one too.

-He's already lost enough in his life, so you're too precious for him now, and Luci is ready to protect you from anything, with all possible ways.

-Well but it didn't mean he would save you from his brothers and all this cacophony they make. He would never admit but one of the reasons why he falls for you so much is your ability to get into this trouble and then find the most ridiculous way to get out of this.

-Acting like all these things annoys him but really loves to see these little accidents and take part in it too. (Also, of course Luci wouldn't scold you as hard as he scolds his brothers after this.)

-"What do you mean this idiot again got into some debts?" - your boyfriend sighs, disappointed, as you are sitting on his office, telling him another story about Mammon and his and yours adventures. - "There's no way he would ever get mature, for demon's sake.."

"But don't you actually love it?" - you can't help but giggle, clearly see as the corners of his lips lift a little. - "There's no way you don't adore Mammon the way he is.."

Lucifer just scoffs again. You're really lucky that he's your boyfriend, cause he would kill right in place anyone else who would say something like that.

"I just got used to such behavior.." - another small sigh as he looks away with a light blush. What great magic do you possess that Avatar of Pride himself just can't hide his true emotions? It's like bright colors appear on his face against his will..

-It's actually surprising how soft Lucifer can be when no one else is around, just you and him in his office or bedroom..

-Only you have a privilege to see his relaxed face after a long day. Your presence is enough for your boyfriend to calm down, and all thoughts about paperwork and other problems fade away as soon as your gazes meet. The uncontrollable urge to pepper your whole face in kisses is the only thing in his mind now.

-Absolutely love gentle kisses, especially in moments like that, when Lucifer too drained after another loud day in House of Lamentation. All he needs now is to feel your generous care, your tender love, as your light touches soothe his tensed muscles.

-I don't want to say he suddenly would stop teasing you - Luci still absolutely adores how quickly your face turns red after a few of his commentaries.

-Just, even though he loves something burning and passionate in your relationship, he adores some cozy peace too. It helps the bond between you two get stronger as your souls get closer to each other, while some wild naughty games keep this initial feeling in your hearts glowing bright.

-So yes, he can be all lovey-dovey, but only in private. When outside Lucifer prefers more 'serious' touches - his arm resting on your waist, caressing it through the fabric, or his hand on your shoulder as he pushes you closer to himself in a crowded corridor. Lucifer just absolutely loves to brag off about you being so close to him through these actions..

-Demons who usually get to talk with you always avoid you when you're with your boyfriend, and you wonder why. Well, maybe if you would turn and look up at Lucifer's face you would realize, but he manages to change his expression to a calm and smuggy one every time you try to do this.

"Is something wrong? You keep looking at me with such an amusing face.." - he always chuckles, enjoying your frustration.

"Nothing.. Just sometimes it feels like you have some sort of vibe that frightens everyone off.." - you mumble in response.

"Mm? Vibe? I think I can say it's just my prideful aura.. You know, not everyone can get too close to someone as omnipotent as me.." - oh, of course. It wouldn't have been Lucifer if he hadn't started bragging a little, showing his prideful side. Yet you just chuckle, teasing him a little bit:

"Oh? And then how high-powered I am if I get so close?"

".. you had another sort of power.. I would prefer to say 'charm', actually, that makes everyone around you engrossed by this.." - Despite you hoping to make your boyfriend flustered, his words tickle your heart and make you blush a little again. - "But among all of them, you chose me.. Doesn't that mean we are a perfect, powerful couple..?"

-Lucifer always has some poetic words to make you shy and giggly, but he absolutely adores you when you tease him too. It's a game for both sides, isn't it? So he wants to see what you have for him in store too.

-And if you are able to make him flustered (that is more easily done when you two are alone, and he shows his sensitive side), it's just a wonderful view - light red color perfectly suits his face, and the way his perpetually furrowed brows arch slightly, making his gaze so alluring and sensual.. You can't help but finish Lucifer off, cooing at him for being so cute and adorable. Extra points if you would pepper his face with kisses between your little compliments.

-He just can't help but being a big softie around you. You're cold? Here, take his coat. Or maybe your arms shiver under such wind? Of course you can borrow his gloves too. Seeing you enjoying his clothes makes him happy, and it also strokes his ego very much as he kinda sees it as marking.

-But what actually makes his heart melt and swell is seeing you early in the morning in his shirt. Lucifer is not a morning demon, yet he always wakes up in a more high mood if you spend the night in his room and greets him in such an outfit.

"Good morning.. I just wanted to go to the kitchen and make you coffee.." - you chuckle, watching the sleepy yet pleasant face of your boyfriend. His casual styled hair is so messy, but it just makes him look even hotter.

"Good morning.. I wouldn't mind such a treat right in the morning.. " - Lucifer also chuckled, placing his hand on your waist and moving you closer to himself in a warm hug. - "But I do hope you will go like that? Only in my shirt?"

"Ahh, you want your brothers to be jealous?" - you giggle, burying your fingers in black locks and messing with his hair a little. And of course Lucifer wouldn't move away, as your soft palm on his forehead and playful fingers are very enjoyable. - "Want me to bring some sweets along with coffee?"

"Mm.. No, you don't need to." - he furrowed his brows for a moment before smirking, moving his lazy gaze from yours eyes to your lips. - "After all, you can provide me with another tasteful treat, don't you think..?"

-It feels like you moved from your room to his now, as more than half nights you spend here. Even if your boyfriend is too busy with some paperwork and can't pay you that much attention before sleep, your persistence helps him work without any distractions, as he didn't feel that stressed about this bunch of documents.

-Uh.. But can I actually say 'without any distractions'..? As sometimes, as you sit near him, you can't help but tickle him a little, he places your arm on his one.. You do know he's busy, but you also know your lover too well and can see when he needs a small break.

-And Lucifer absolutely adores how you spoil him with some tea or coffee, or cheering him up with a few kisses, telling that work is almost done and he should keep it up just a little. He's playful, teasing you about what kind of reward he will get from his precious human, but deep in his soul he's grateful for this. Nothing can keep him moving (not only in the sense of documentation) as much as you and your soft smile..

"Here.. You should be thankful that I was able to sneak into the kitchen and steal this from Beel.." - your soft giggle tickles his heart as you place a small plate with tarts and a warm cup of coffee near him.

"I'm sure his plate was full of baking so he wouldn't mind if you take one.." - Lucifer chuckled, moving a little from the table with a tired sigh. - "But thank you anyways.."

"You're welcome. Just finish your report as fast as you can, okay? I'm kinda lonely.." - you mumble but your boyfriend clearly sees that you are just acting. But even knowing it, he still falls for your games, letting you toying with his heart.

"Of course, darling.. But only if you would share some of your energy with me.." - he patted his lap, inviting you to sit down. Having you so close, being able to smell your genteel fragrance, your sweet perfume, feeling your warmth.. His whole face tells you how much he needed it right now.

"Oh, are you trying to say I'm more powerful than you and should take charge of my precious boyfriend..?" - you can't help but giggle, enjoying his weakness in front of you.

"This is not really what I meant.. You just have some magic bent to fill me with determination.." - Lucifer's smuggy smile gets wider as you sit on his lap, leaning to his chest. He immediately hugs your waist with his hand, another strokes your cheeks as he makes you look up at him.

"Darling.. S/o.. I love you."

-Be ready to be pampered like a high royalty.

-Well, because you ARE a high royalty, don't you think? If you decided to engage in a relationship with Diavolo, that means you're serious about this, right? Cause he is.

-Despite his goofy careless behavior, he does appreciate you near him on a deep, serious level. After all, he is the future King of Devildom, he can be humorless while making great plans that indulge you in his life.

-So he's willing to take you with him anywhere. He doesn't care about your status as an ordinary human or just an exchange student, Dia will take you to different formal evenings, parties and meetings.

-Of course he would prepare you for this, buying all outfits that you want, sponsoring any of your wishes, so you would look stunning every evening, lighting up big rooms of his castle brighter than any lamps and candles can.

-Well, but it's only if you want to join all of these things. It's a big part of Dia's life and he does understand that you need to show up here, as his partner, yet if you are not comfortable, he would never push you into this. Just be more stubborn when it's a really important event or if it's something he finds fascinatingly interesting and really wants you to see.

-Diavolo just knows how to make this puppy's eyes, almost begging with his whole body and actions, as he is trying to persuade you for another soiree.

"It would be just an amazing evening..!" - he swears, holding your hands in his big and warm ones. - "But not that amazing if you won't go.."

"Dear, I know you wanted me to go, but I'm gonna be kinda busy.." - you sigh but without rancor, as it actually was kinda amusing to see Lord of Demons himself clinging to you so much. It almost feels like he's ready to drop to his knees.

"But there's gonna be your favorite meal..!"

"And I'm sure you have some paperwork to do, don't you?" - ignoring his demands, you just chuckle. - "Barbatos wouldn't let you go out this evening, Dia.."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you would agree to accompany me.. I was hoping to spend this evening together with you, dancing and having fun.." - your boyfriend mumbled, frustrated. Just how did you know about his unfinished work..! Moreover, teasing him with such a cunning smile.. You just love to toy with him, knowing well he can't resist your charm..?

"Aww, so you just want to spend some time together? Then what do you say about me cheering you up a little while you're working?" - you giggle, cupping his cheeks as Diavolo looks at you with such hope. - "I don't want to steal Barbatos's work but I'm sure this is what he's actually wouldn't mind.."

-Well, but honestly, Barbatos WOULD mind, as his Lord is just so easy to distract.. He always starts working hard and carefully with all these documents, hoping to finish everything quickly and hear some praise from you, yet every time he starts wondering about you and your warm hands, about soft kisses you would give him as a small treat.. Every time it just ended up with you on his lap as Diavolo asking for another little break.

-He's just a big fan of touches, kisses, cuddles..! And there's no difference if you're in his Castle or in RAD, he would be glad to hug you tightly, to hold your hand with such a proud face. Of course he wouldn't get too touchy, leaving the most passionate and sweet things just for you two to see and enjoy, yet he can't control this urge to place hand on your waist or shoulder in a protective way.

-In a protective way? Well, because there sure to be some demons who'd envy you getting so close to Diavolo. Maddie alone would be a big problem, what can we say about others unruly witches, demons and succubus who were also wishing to get in your place?

-You will not receive a whole guardian team, but now you notice the gaze of Barbatos on your back more often, as he's just following orders of his Lord to check on you. Your boyfriend himself can't be with you all the time, even if he's really yearning to, so he would send his servant.

-And of course you would move to Lord Demon's Castle now. Maybe Diavolo would try to fake it and tell it's another way to keep you safe, yet you can clearly see how happy he is about making you stay so close to him. And soon he would give up, telling you how long he was waiting for it.

"Here.. This would be your new bedroom.." - A small chuckle escaped his lips as you two were standing in a kinda large room, already filled with furniture and all needed things. Diavolo is such an attentive lover, knowing all your hobbies by heart, as he pleases you with small gifts almost every day. - "I try to make according to your tastes, yet if there is something you want to add or change, tell me, princess.."

"Hmm.. That's good, but I thought you would sleep in your room.." - you can't help but giggle, noticing his surprised face and light blush. Yet Diavolo quickly came back fast and laughed too.

"Well, I thought about all the times when you spent nights in my castle before.. But maybe you wouldn't be comfortable living with me that close on a daily basis.." - he mumbled with an ashamed expression, but his pale golden eyes were glowing with excitement, holding out hope. Sometimes it was so easy to read Lord of Demons like an open book. Well, at least for you.. - "But if you don't mind pushing things more, then I'll be glad.."

-And he means it. You can't imagine how much he was longing for you, even before you two started a relationship, and now, as with each step he's closer and closer to lure you into the depth of his soul, Diavolo gets more and more impatient. You have no idea how hard it is for a demon to control his craving urge to just capture and withhold his precious human all to himself..

-So yes, he's really possessive, getting jealous so easily.. That's another reason why you moved from House of Lamentation, as thoughts about you hanging out with Seven brothers for a whole evening, about their privilege to adore your sleepy face early in the morning as they share breakfast with you.. It was like a hot burning needle in his heart, and Diavolo is sure he has all the right to get rid of this feeling by placing you near him.

-It's not like he's not confident in himself or in your loyalty, it's just.. As a prince, he gets used to receiving everything he wants by just snapping his finger, to get so many presents and gifts just because. But with you he can feel that his wealth and title is not what makes you interested, that you see his personality first, that you see him. And Diavolo was hankering for this empathy for so long, craving for someone like you by his side..

-So of course he do feel fear of losing you. What if his character is not that bright and interesting as one of brothers? Maybe demons around him get attached to his money and status because he's nothing without this things? Maybe he was wishing for you to see through this tinsel but when the gold curtain rises there's nothing on a stage of his soul and heart? Maybe you just mistaken with your interest to him and soon would realize how empty he's without this masquerade?

-And now Diavolo bewildered with his jealous, trying to win you over with his real feelings, which are a real mess due to his confusion over his own personality, and at the same throwing more money in your eyes, wishing to keep you next to him with it. If he will not be able to make you feel safe, to make you want to live in such abundance, then at least he would tie you to him with deep feel of guilt for all this amount of money he spent on you, isn't he..?

-And even when Diavolo do tries to control his jealousy, you can feel as his grip on your waist get tight when you're in RAD, how he tend to kiss you longer and deeper right in front of everyone. Some small, harmless questions about your friends in Academy never make you suspicious, when in fact your boyfriend was carefully thinking about everyone around you. He doesn't mind to make his or his servant's hands dirty, if suddenly Diavolo would realize there's someone bad who not worthy your attention.. Or get too many of your attention..

-Yet your boyfriend doesn't want to scare you away, still acting all bubbly and ebullient. And he's actually happy to fool around with you, it's not just an act! Diavolo does understand sometimes that many of his servants, subordinates, just demons around tolerate his airheaded behavior only because he's a Lord.. Yet you actually enjoyed his company, having fun along with him..!

-It's just so heartwarming, to have someone who understands you and doesn't care about your status in the first place. Sometimes you even surprise Lord of Demons with your lack of interest for his title. You always had talked with him on equal, and it was probably the first thing that amuse him in you.

-Especially how easy you call him by any teasing nicknames, as he absolutely love it. Any nicknames, you name it, Diavolo would be glad to hear it for yourself and use for you. It's like another small game for him, as he love to think what cute compliment would be suit you today.

"Mm.. You buy yourself a new shampoo?" - his lips curved in a soft smile, as pleasant smell tickle his nose during his bear hug with you. - "You smell so fresh and sweet, my little buttercup.."

"Aren't you call me your sweetie pie yesterday?" - you chuckle, trying to breath normally as your boyfriend just have tendency to squeeze you too tight in his grasp.

"Well, because yesterday we was baking together..!" - Dia laugh, remembering a big mess on Castle's kitchen and your crooked cake in the middle of table. - "That was fun, but for me, our product turned out not that yummy and delicious, as you.. And there's probably no sweets that would delight me as much as your lips.."

"Ooh? Someone flirty? That's mean I should call you a smooth talker today, am I?" - you chuckle yet get on your tiptoe to press your lips to his in a small playful kiss.

"I honestly wouldn't mind anything.. As long as it's your voice, I don't care about what you call me.. I just hear your loving tone and it's enough to make everything inside me trembling in happiness.." - he mumbled, his casual loud voice now was almost like a whisper, as Diavolo got into some romantic mode. Honestly, he always starts to melt like that when you hang out around him for a whole day, turning into a timid needy demon who's only wish is to receive some kisses.

"S/o, i.. I just addicted to you.."

-Ahh, get prepared to fully renovate your life - your schedule, your wardrobe, your free time, everything..!

-Cause Asmo requires a lot of time !! You're literally was able to charm him, him, the avatar of Lust who's get used to charm everyone around him, not the vice versa..! So of course he wants to spend as many times with you as he can, exploring this new thrilling pleasure of yearning only to one person..

-Always know what you two would do in the evening, as he has a whole list of adorable sweet things he want to do with you. Shopping date, night tour along all Devildom's clubs, calm spa evening, cute little baking lesson, quality time at the cafe with bunch of photos for Devilgram.. You name it!

-It's honestly surprise you, where your boyfriend get so much energy and passion for you everyday. Not like you get tired of it, but Asmo literally ready to spend whole days and nights with you.

-In the begging you though it all would be harder, with his addiction to clubs and flirt with succubus. Yet he turns out to be really loyal boyfriend, even more faithful than many other guys can be. Like, he do still love to have some chit chats with witches and pretty demons, yet now Asmo would never cross the line, getting too lovely with anybody else than you.

-He even likes to brag about how happy he is in his relationship with you..! Now it looks more like you two share one Devilgram's blog, as his whole account is in cute photos with you on different dates. And yes, Asmo absolutely loves to spend lazy evenings in his bed with you, trying new funny effects and masks, or maybe filming a new video in Fab Snap.

"Oh, here, here, look..! This filer will show us how good our couple is..!" - he giggles, hugging you and leaning his head closer to yours, and now a big heart appears on a screen right above you.

"I thought you already had said to me that we're a perfect match..?" - A small chuckle escaped your lips as you hugged him back, waiting for results.

"Of course I said that, cause it's true..! ♡" - your boyfriend puffs out his cheeks, acting like you just said something mean. - "But aren't you feeling this funny tickle in your stomach, amused by waiting.. Ahh, I wonder if my phone can feel how deep my love for you is..!"

"Due to how many pictures of me you have, I'm sure your gadget is well informed.." - and it was true, as even your own gallery had more different things than Asmo's one. - "See? The results are 95%.."

"Ahh.! Where did it lose 5%?!" - your boyfriend whines, deletes the recorded video and starts filming again. - "It's probably because we were just hugging and giggling..! Come here, give me some sweet kisses filled with your love, and I'm sure it will be 100% this time..!"

-Asmo can be a big tease, actually, with all his light playful touches and smooches. Well, he's a demon, after all, and a very lustful demon, who knows how to make you all shy and silent after a few words and strokes. And despite always acting so lovable and affectionate, your boyfriend can sit straight and not show you any romance, making you the one who would cling and ask for some attention..

-Ahh, and your blushing needy face is so cute, he can't be so harsh with you for a long time, quickly clinging to you and giving more passionate deep kisses, teasing you for being so sensitive today.

-He is still kinda angry at you for not falling under his charm, actually! So when Amso is able to make you yearn for his feelings, it's like a little win for him, as he just can't help but keep toying with you a little.. But it's clearly seen that you do enjoy his games, aren't you!

-And of course he loves it when you tease him back..! This unknown yet so intriguing interesting feeling when someone makes him swoon, tickling his heart the same way he is always mocking someone.. It's surprisingly pleasant, and sometimes your boyfriend switches from naughty brat to sensitive needy demon, enjoying how you keep fooling him.. Just why does his head get so dizzy and he actually wants more..?

-Only sweet, cute, pink nicknames for both of you..! Such as 'cuite', 'cupcake', 'rose', etc.. Everything around Asmo should be perfect and adorable, and you, dolly, also would be covered in this bright glitter..

-And the first thing your boyfriend wants to do is to poke his nose in your wardrobe. Who as not him can help you improve your style and turn into the most popular human here, in Devildom? So you both would be an iconic duo, stunning more bright than any stars around..!

-It doesn't mean Asmo would throw away all your clothes, no. He's still respecting your own opinion and doesn't want to change your style, it's what makes you so unique, after all! But some little correction there and there, a few new outfits as a gift from your boyfriend, aren't these bad? It would give you more inspiration and ideas for your new looks.

"Come on, hurry up and unpack it..!" - Asmo whines, absolutely impatient as you sit in his room with a package in your hands. Just when he gets time to go shopping without you..? - "I want to see your adorable reaction, angel..!"

"Hm..? It kinda reminds me of your casual outfit.." - you mumble, a little bit surprised, looking at a set of clothes in white, pink, and reddish-pink colors. - "Is it..?"

"Yesss..!! It's a matching outfit!♡" - too excited to control himself, he screams, jumping from bed and hugging you. - "Please, try it on right now! I promise to not peeking at you while you change, hehe.."

"Oh yes? And I just thought about surprising you with a little show as a thanks for this gift.." - you sigh dramatically, making Asmo even more exuberant.

"Ahh, Doll! I appreciate your wish to please me too, yet we would move to such things after, okay? We have things to do..!" - with these words your boyfriend brings more packages with new clothes for both you and him. And, of course, matching. - "Some anticipation will just spice up things, you know? So let's warm up a little with a small exhibition, mm? ♡"

-Of course clothes and fashion tips are not the only things you would receive from him.. Asmo absolutely loves to pamper you with facial masks, lotions, creams, anything! Your head on his laps as he takes care of your skin is one the best way to relax, as you literally can fall asleep on his soft thighs, lulled with tender touches of his slim fingers.

-And the same goes to him! Asmo loves when demons around him pamper him and treat him good, but it never will compare to even the slightest attention from you, as your love and care can almost bring him back to heaven.

-There's no one who Asmo would let touch his face, no need to talk about any cosmetic procedures. Yet you can squeeze, stroke, tickle his skin as much as you want, as your hands are softer than silk and warmer than sun.. And when you kiss him playfully on the lips after washing off the clay mask, this little treat burns his insides more than a good shot of whiskey, making his soul ache for more.

-Would you ever thought a demon who's always seeking attention and flirting could be jealous? And Asmo isn't shy about saying out loud, protectively hugging you and leaning on you. He knows it's stupid, especially from his side, yet there's nothing he can do about it, you're just his little star..!

-Your boyfriend doesn't even know how to form this itching feeling that keeps pinching his soul into words, as he never feels any envy or anything! Like, yes, back then he can envy the popularity of some demons, and sometimes he still can be jealous if someone was able to buy the last limited mascara before him, but it's different! This storm of emotions that his soul undergoes when someone starts to be too chatty with you is just unbearable..!

-And all that Asmo can do it's to turn on his childish clinging behavior, throwing a little tantrum. Not a real one, as he sees that you didn't flirt back or anything, he just doesn't know how to relieve his stress that someone will outshine him in your eyes, as it's actually a thing that worries him.

"Just what sort of course you cast on me so now I feel like that..? Me! Feeling insecure..!" - small drops of tears shining in your boyfriend's eyes as he hugs himself with a melancholy look.

"What do you mean, honey? Something happened?" - you really try to hold your chuckle but when Asmo acts like that, overdramatically, you find it kinda amusing.

"This incubus! The one you were talking to just now! Is he pretty? What do you think?" - he suddenly furrowed his brow, waiting for an answer.

"Mm.. How can I call someone pretty, when for me the meaning of the word 'pretty' or 'beautiful' is your visage?" - you purr, getting closer and hugging him.

"You're more dangerous than any powerful witch.. As no one can fill my heart with such joy with one phrase.." - A little whine tickles your ear as he hugs you back, tight and needy. - "And the worst part is that I know that you just tease me, yet I will fall for it again and again.."

"Oh, tease? Is there something I can do to prove to you my words..? Maybe I should kiss the prettiest lips right now?" - you look at his deep dark eyes, that were filled with such need, then slowly lower your gaze at his lips with a small smile.

"Ahh, silly s/o!! You can kiss your own lips.." - Asmo giggles, grasping on your waist as he leans his face closer to yours. - "Just promise me.."

"That's you're mesmerized with me no less than I'm with you..♡"

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | six

🐴Chapter summary: The wild horses are captivating creatures. You and Yoongi work together on gentling some of the wild horses, but when Jimin sees something that is truly harmless, but takes it the wrong way… well everything goes to shit.  🐴Chapter title: Wild Horses 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: hahahah, I’m sorry but we’re now approaching angst territory 🥲 This chapter is a lot about Yoongi, because he’s very important (as is almost every character in the story lol, but you’ll understand why later). And something happens that you’re probably gonna hate me for lol. I’m sorry in advance, but stuff has to happen this way for the good stuff to carry weight later (please trust the process!) ✨ 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 11k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Wild Horses” by Natasha Bedingfield. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: this chapter was tough for me to write, mostly because of the angst. I’m not that good with that, but I’m really trying to do better with angst. Something happens in this chapter that I think you won’t like, but please remember that Jimin and reader are the main pairing and I have promised a happy ending, okay? There’s just gonna be some angst along the way lol, I’m preparing you now, so buckle up! I really hope you still like it! 💜 

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Wild horses I want to be like you Throwing caution to the wind, I’ll run free too Wish I could recklessly love like I’m longing to I want to run with the wild horses Run with the wild horses” - ’Wild Horses’ by Natasha Bedingfield

As you race across the expansive field, the towering mountains providing a breathtaking backdrop, the thrill of galloping with the wind in your hair never fails to captivate you. En route to the Bell Ranch to speak with Yoongi, you grant Marshmallow the freedom to sprint at full gallop, hooves digging into the earth, creating a dust storm that billows in your wake.

Marshmallow’s powerful gallop sets the rhythm for your heart, the exhilaration of freedom courses through your veins. The wind becomes a playful dance partner, tousling your hair and causing it to cascade behind you, yet obediently secured under the brim of your trusty cowboy hat. 

The expanse between the Bora Ranch and the guys’ territory proves surprisingly brief as always, and the vibrant landscape of their ranch unfolds before you. 

Urging Marshmallow into a spirited gallop, you cover the ground swiftly, drawing nearer to the bustling yard. The rhythmic gallop propels you towards the lively scene in the yard, where Yoongi is engrossed in his work with a horse in a pen. As Marshmallow intuitively senses the approaching enclosure, his pace decelerates, and a soft whinny escapes him, signaling a seamless transition from a spirited gallop to a gentle, deliberate walk.

Bringing Marshmallow to a halt, you gracefully swing your leg over his back and plant your feet firmly on the ground. With practiced ease, you secure the reins, fastening them securely to the fence surrounding the pen where Yoongi is deeply engrossed in his work.

“Hey, Yoongi!” you call out with a bright smile, waving enthusiastically as you drape yourself over the fence, captivated by the sight of him completely absorbed and engrossed in his work.

He acknowledges you with a subtle nod, a gentle smile playing on his lips as a majestic brown horse gracefully circles him, moving with a natural grace, all without a halter to guide its steps.

You linger there, a silent observer to his craft. The rhythmic dance between Yoongi and the horse unfolds before you—the majestic creature, occasionally curious, edges closer to him, a testament to the unspoken bond between man and horse.

In a mesmerizing dance of trust and connection, the horse inches ever closer to Yoongi, a silent understanding weaving between them. The minutes pass, and you find yourself breathless as the magnificent creature, once wary, now stands still before him, its head bowed low in quiet reverence. The profound bond between man and horse unfolds before your eyes, leaving you spellbound by the unspoken language they share.

In a breathtaking display of trust, the horse tenderly presses its head against Yoongi’s chest, a profound connection resonating in the air. A deep exhale escapes the majestic creature, harmonizing with the gentle strokes of Yoongi’s hand as he caresses its forehead, forging a silent pact of understanding and companionship.

Mesmerized by the enchanting dance between Yoongi and the horse, you can’t help but release a soft “Wow.” 

His ability to forge a profound connection with the majestic creature leaves you in awe, a silent yearning echoing within you, wishing you possessed such profound skills.

His eyes twinkle with a warm smile, a shared moment of understanding passing between you two. A gentle chuckle escapes his lips as he leads the horse effortlessly towards the gate, the majestic creature following his every step willingly, a testament to the remarkable bond they share. The word incredible echoes in your mind, witnessing Yoongi’s innate connection with these magnificent animals.

Breaking the serene atmosphere, he finally speaks when he reaches you, his voice carrying a subtle warmth, “Hi.” 

With practiced ease, he opens the gate, guiding the horse out as if orchestrating a dance between man and horse.

As he strides past you, effortlessly guiding the brown horse toward the barn without a tether, he casually mentions, “I’ll be back in a moment.” Acknowledging him with a nod, you divert your attention to Marshmallow, tenderly patting his neck while observing Yoongi’s innate connection with the majestic creature.

With the horse comfortably settled in its stall, Yoongi strides back towards you, donning his cowboy hat and sturdy boots, a subtle swagger in his step that mirrors the newfound confidence you’ve gained since acquiring your own pair of boots.

Yoongi leans casually against the fence, his gaze meeting yours as he asks, “What’s up?”

Your eyes widen with fascination as you inquire, “Was that a wild horse?” Your curiosity about his intriguing line of work reflects in both your voice and expression.

His eyes light up with pride as he responds, “Yeah, I’ve been working on her for some time; she’s almost ready to become a stock horse.” 

You join him in turning around, casting your eyes over the paddocks where the cattle graze, sharing in the satisfaction of a job well done.

“Why do you catch wild horses? I’ve been curious about that ever since Jimin mentioned it,” you ask, your words tumbling out a bit hastily. A touch of nerves lingers, although you can’t quite fathom why. After all, it’s just Yoongi.

He offers a slight smile. “They’re a menace,” he shrugs nonchalantly, and you shoot him a quizzical look. How can he label those magnificent creatures as anything other than beautiful?

He chuckles at your slightly frantic state. “For one, they have a knack for wreaking havoc on the property, and two, the stallions occasionally swoop in, daringly stealing our mares.”

You give him a nod, feigning understanding of the issue, yet deep down, you’re puzzled. Your sister has never shared this concern before. Could this be the reason they don’t let the wild horses roam freely?

“So we catch some of them and gentle them into reliable working horses,” he explains with an enigmatic gleam in his eyes, as if his gaze conceals something profound, yet elusive, leaving you intrigued but uncertain about the hidden depths.

“That’s fascinating. Do Jimin or Jungkook ever lend a hand with your wild horse endeavors?” you inquire, a lively grin accompanying your question as you pivot to affectionately pat Marshmallow once more.

“Ah, they’re usually tied up with their own stuff. Although, Hoseok does jump in from time to time,” he replies with a grin, and there’s a subtle flicker in his eyes when he mentions Hoseok.

“Too bad they’re busy, but I’ve been thinking, maybe I could lend a hand. It looks like a fascinating and enjoyable experience,” you offer with an eager smile, despite your lack of knowledge about wild horses and the process of taming them.

“You’re welcome to help me. We can even go for a ride right now and see if we can find the herd, just to look at them. No catching today,” he says, chuckling. As his warm brown eyes twinkle with an indescribable gleam, you feel a magnetic pull toward the upcoming adventure.

“Absolutely!” you exclaim with excitement, swiftly unfastening Marshmallow’s reins from the fence. You join Yoongi, walking in tandem towards the barn where he prepares a horse for the upcoming adventure. The air is charged with anticipation, and the rhythmic sounds of hooves echo the promise of a thrilling ride.

You stride into the barn with Marshmallow, the atmosphere filled with the earthy scent of hay and the distant sounds of horses. Observing Yoongi, you note his skilled selection of a brown horse adorned with a sleek black mane and tail. With fluid precision, he secures a saddle and bridle, effortlessly mounting the horse. His actions exude a quiet confidence, leaving you eager to embark on this equine adventure with him.

“Let’s go then,” he muses, a twinkle of anticipation in his eyes. You smoothly mount Marshmallow, ready to join him in a rhythmic trot around the expansive North paddock of the Bell Ranch. 

The air carries the promise of adventure, and the rhythmic hoofbeats echo a harmonious melody, creating an atmosphere filled with the thrill of the unknown.

Atop the hill, you unleash your horses into a spirited gallop, immersing yourself in the breathtaking beauty of the land. The lush green grass stretches beneath you, while majestic hills and distant mountains paint a picturesque panorama. The rhythmic beat of hoofs kissing the grass orchestrates a symphony that resonates in your ears, and your heart dances with exhilaration, each thud echoing the thrill of the moment.

Allowing Yoongi to take the lead, you entrust him with setting the pace, confident in his knowledge of where the elusive herd of wild horses is likely to roam.

“This way. This is where I spotted them last,” he deftly guides his horse to the right, and you follow suit in a slow, measured gallop, the anticipation building with each stride.

After a bit more riding, you reach a clearing through some bushes, and there, before you, the herd of wild horses comes into view. They look absolutely magnificent and exude a magical aura that captures your breath.

They graze casually, and both you and Yoongi have brought your horses to a slow walk, now standing still, fully immersed in the captivating sight of the wild horses before you.

“They’re so beautiful,” you murmur in a hushed tone, captivated by the scene unfolding before you. Yoongi, sharing in the enchantment, nods silently with a smile gracing his lips.

Then, amidst the grazing herd, you catch sight of it—a pitch-black horse, its coat glistening like obsidian in the sunlight. Its eyes, as dark as the night, reflect an ethereal beauty. The sun’s rays play upon its sleek coat, turning it into a cosmic spectacle that leaves you in awe. 

Wow, it’s beautiful.

An inexplicable yearning stirs within you, drawn to that singular horse. Amidst the entire herd, none captivates your attention like the majestic black horse. 

“The black horse is absolutely stunning,” you murmur in a breathless voice, utterly mesmerized by its beauty.

“It is a stunning mare indeed,” he smiles and adds, “maybe we can catch it next time.”

You return his smile, uncertainty lingering within you. The notion of capturing such a majestic creature tugs at your conscience – after all, aren’t wild horses destined to roam the vast expanse of freedom?

As the sun sets on another day, you find yourself back at the Bell Ranch, ready to lend a hand to Yoongi’s tireless efforts in transforming wild spirits into reliable working companions.

It’s enthralling to observe his technique; he operates in silence, an oasis of calm, patiently anticipating the horse’s subtle cues, waiting for that moment when it chooses to connect with him willingly, without coercion.

“Do you want to come and try?” His unexpected question catches you off guard, but a nod of agreement escapes your lips. You gracefully climb over the fence into the pen where he’s immersed in his work, ready to try your hand at the artistry of connecting with these untamed creatures.

Your voice carries a hint of nervous excitement as you inquire, “What should I do?” 

The untamed beauty of a wild horse gracefully circles the outer ring of the pen, seemingly oblivious to your presence, and you can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation for the challenge ahead.

As Yoongi imparts his wisdom, he stresses, “The key is earning the horse’s trust. You have to show it that you’re trustworthy.” Absorbing his words, you nod in agreement, ready to embark on the journey of building a connection with the wild creature before you.

“How?” you question, a spark of wonder in your eyes, acknowledging the challenge that lies within the seemingly simple yet profound advice.

“You just have to be consistent in your actions. Don’t let nerves or fear cloud your presence. Be calm, attentive, and just exist in the moment,” he imparts, a casual shrug underscoring the simplicity of his advice, though the weight of its truth lingers in the air.

You observe the horse gracefully navigating the pen, its pace gradually easing into a leisurely stroll.

“I believe in patience and presence. I dedicate substantial time to be with the horse, letting it get to know me, building trust,” he remarks, his gaze fixed on the horse. “There’s a considerable investment in time before I even think about introducing a saddle to the equation.”

Nodding in agreement, you consciously steady your heartbeat. His advice echoes in your mind, urging you to shed the lingering nervousness, and you make a conscious effort to dismiss the slight unease settling within.

As he imparts his wisdom, Yoongi gestures toward the chestnut horse leisurely strolling within the pen, a familiar presence from his earlier endeavors. “I prefer letting the horse choose to come to me, to form that crucial connection. Once it ’joins up,’ a silent understanding unfolds, a testament to the trust we’ve built. Only then do I progress to more intricate training,” he reveals, his eyes focused on the equine companion he’s guided through this intricate dance before.

“I’ve devoted considerable time to this mare,” Yoongi shares, casting a fond gaze at the equine companion that has shared in the nuances of their bond. “Even though she has joined up with me multiple times, I find solace in revisiting the fundamentals.” He gestures toward the mare, a living canvas of equine tranquility. 

As you observe, the horse moves with an easy grace, its body language a symphony of relaxation and curiosity. At times, it directs a glance in your direction, an unspoken invitation to engage, before returning to a rhythmic exploration along the fence line. 

The overall demeanor is one of serene calm, a testament to the enduring connection fostered through patient dedication.

Your eyes gleam with newfound understanding, a smile playing on your lips as you seek clarification. “So the secret is to patiently wait for the horse to come to you?”

He chuckles, his laughter carrying the warmth of shared wisdom. “Not much of a secret, but it all boils down to patience, trust, and a bit of loyalty,” he confesses.

You flash a smile his way. “So, how long does it typically take for you to work your magic and gentle a horse?”

He lifts his hat, running a hand through his silver hair before settling it back in place. “Each horse is a unique case, so I don’t measure success by the clock. Some might quickly ’join up’ with me, while others are more complex. Horses, like humans, have their distinct personalities.”

You nod in agreement, recognizing the intricate nature of horses, almost as complex as humans. A soft chuckle escapes you, appreciating the way Yoongi speaks of the wild horses, as if they’re cherished friends in his world.

Your gaze shifts to the brown mare, curiosity lighting up your eyes. “Since you’ve already ’joined up’ with this one, what’s the next step in her training?” you inquire, eager to delve deeper into the fascinating world of horse gentling.

His eyes gleam with anticipation as he outlines the next steps in the horse’s training journey. “After establishing trust, I’ll gradually introduce her to the ranch environment—ropes, familiar noises, and gear on her back through gentle massages,” he explains, his voice tinged with hope. “Once she’s comfortable, I’ll proceed to the saddle and bridle, paving the way for the ultimate test—riding. But only when I’m certain she’s fully prepared.”

As you observe the mare approaching, curiosity twinkling in her eyes, you can’t help but smile. “It sounds like quite a journey, but I sense it’s a rewarding one,” you remark, your voice filled with genuine curiosity and anticipation, mirroring the mare’s gradual approach.

His words resonate with a warmth that matches his infectious smile. “You gain a friend for life,” he shares, his gummy grin embodying the depth of connection forged through this intricate process.

As the mare inches closer, a magnetic connection pulls you both into a silent communion. You turn your head slightly toward Yoongi, watching in awe as the graceful creature approaches him, gently resting its head against his back. 

A deep sigh escapes the mare, and with a deliberate nudge, it pushes Yoongi forward, creating an unspoken bond that transcends the boundaries between man and horse.

Chuckling softly, he remarks, “She’s feeling a bit playful,” and turns around to tenderly caress the brown mare’s forehead.

As laughter escapes you, you marvel at the scene unfolding before you— the horse nuzzling deeper into Yoongi’s embrace. The profound trust and loyalty displayed in that simple gesture brings a radiant smile to your face.

As the distant sound of hoofbeats serenades your ears, your attention subtly shifts towards the source. A thrilling anticipation grips you, and even before your eyes meet the approaching spectacle, an instinctive certainty tells you—the wild horses are drawing near.

In their untamed grace, those wild horses emerge on the horizon, a breathtaking tapestry of freedom. Their beauty, an untethered symphony, etches itself into your soul. Despite Yoongi’s pragmatic warnings of their wild nature, your heart steadfastly champions their unrestrained beauty and the allure of their untamed spirit.

As the majestic herd gallops across the distant hill, your eyes are drawn to the obsidian grace of the black mare. Strange flutters of anticipation dance within your stomach, and Yoongi catches your gaze, sensing the magnetic pull that the mysterious creature exerts on your senses.

With a glint of curiosity in his eyes, Yoongi continues to tenderly pat the brown mare, and he turns to you with a question that sparks excitement, “Do you want to try and catch the black mare?”

Your gaze locks onto Yoongi, eyes widening with unbridled enthusiasm. Is it even a question?

The desire to capture that elusive black mare courses through your veins, even as a part of you acknowledges its wild spirit. There’s an inexplicable connection, a yearning in your heart for a creature that defies easy description. 

It beckons to you, and you’re eager to answer its untamed call.

“We can certainly try,” you declare in a breathy voice, uncertainty mingling with excitement. The prospect of capturing that magnificent black mare hangs in the air, and though doubts linger, the anticipation of a thrilling ride fuels your determination.

With practiced finesse, Yoongi guides the brown mare out of the pen, seamlessly maneuvering it into its stall within the barn. Meanwhile, he deftly prepares his own horse, his movements deliberate and skilled, as you eagerly saddle up on Marshmallow, ready for the adventure.

Side by side, you and Yoongi charge towards the spot where the wild horses disappeared, the thundering hooves creating a symphony of freedom. The wind playfully teases your hair beneath your hat, adding a touch of exhilaration to the chase. Each gallop echoes with the rhythm of nostalgia, transporting you back to carefree days of childhood joy, and you wholeheartedly embrace the familiar melody of hoofbeats resonating through the hills.

Swiftly closing the distance, you and Yoongi seamlessly join the graceful dance of the wild horses, riding in tandem as if becoming one with the spirited herd.

“We’ll try and separate the black mare from the rest, okay?” Weaving through the thundering hooves, Yoongi’s voice pierces the rhythmic beat of galloping, a plan forming between you as you both flank the herd, aiming to isolate the enigmatic black mare from the wild symphony surrounding her.

Navigating the thundering hooves, your focus sharpens on the elusive black mare, a dance of determination and wild grace. As the herd courses through the terrain, a corridor of trees emerges, and with a masterful maneuver, Yoongi surges ahead, skillfully severing the ebony beauty from the chaotic canvas of the herd.

Now, in the quiet aftermath of the thundering herd, the black mare stands solitary between you and Yoongi, a majestic silhouette against the fading echoes of the retreating wild horses. The air is charged with a sense of captured freedom, and you can feel the pulse of anticipation building between you and the untamed beauty before you.

Amidst the stillness, Yoongi’s voice cuts through like a soothing melody, “Steady.” 

His hands move with practiced precision, gliding down to the rope coiled at his saddle. In a fluid motion, he unfastens it, the rope dancing gracefully in the air above the ebony beauty standing before you.

In a surprising dance of trust, the mare offers only mild resistance as the rope gracefully settles into a loose circle around its neck. With a calm assurance, Yoongi guides his horse to a halt and approaches the black mare from horseback, step by deliberate step.

His soothing words weave through the air as Yoongi approaches the black mare, a promise of care and understanding. “It’s alright,” he assures, the resonance of his voice echoing a commitment to nurture and protect the newfound connection with the wild beauty before him.

Spellbound by Yoongi’s expertise, you marvel at the seemingly effortless capture of the black mare, a moment etched with both surprise and admiration for his skill in bridging the gap between untamed freedom and the prospect of gentle companionship.

Grinning with a mix of disbelief and triumph, you exclaim, “Well, that felt surprisingly easy,” relishing the moment where the reality of capturing the wild black mare settles in, leaving you in awe of your own accomplishment.

Guiding his horse into a slow trot, Yoongi glances at you and adds, “It isn’t always this smooth,” as he skillfully leads the black mare by the rope, a testament to the unpredictable nature of working with wild horses.

As you ride back to the Bell Ranch at a leisurely pace, the black mare in tow, anticipation courses through you. The prospect of working with the wild beauty, attempting to forge a connection as Yoongi does, fills you with eagerness and a hopeful determination. The challenge ahead, mingled with the thrill of the unknown, propels you forward.

As the ranch unfolds before you, Yoongi guides you to a spacious paddock. “We’ll release her here, let her experience a taste of freedom within these boundaries,” he explains. 

“We can commence our efforts to connect with her tomorrow or the day after. Allowing her this time will help her acclimate.” 

The thoughtful approach to the black mare’s transition into her new surroundings speaks volumes about the patience and care that defines Yoongi’s approach to his work with these wild spirits.

As Yoongi opens the gate to the paddock, you nod in understanding. Approaching the black mare, he expertly removes the rope from its neck with a gentleness that seems to convey a silent understanding. The mare remains serene throughout the entire process, a testament to the trust beginning to bloom between human and horse, captivating you with its silent beauty.

“Go on,” encouragingly, Yoongi gestures to the horse, and with a sudden burst of energy, the black mare leaps into a swift gallop. It bucks playfully, its powerful strides carrying it effortlessly towards the awaiting company of horses within the enclosure, a breathtaking display of freedom and untamed spirit.

Gratitude fills your voice as you express, “Thank you for capturing it.” You turn toward Yoongi, a warm smile of satisfaction lighting up your face. The joy of successfully corralling the black mare radiates from you, making the moment even more meaningful.

“No problem,” his response carries a friendly assurance, accompanied by a smile that lingers in the air. Together, you pivot, ensuring the gate clicks shut behind you, sealing in the triumphant atmosphere of your joint accomplishment.

As you savor the refreshing embrace of ice-cold water on the terrace, your sister joins you, gracefully claiming the adjacent chair.

You meet her gaze, an unspoken tension lingers in the air, and you instinctively adjust your posture in the chair, sitting taller, ready to listen to the words she’s about to share.

Her fingers thread through the tousled strands of her hair, a subtle sign of unease that sends a ripple of tension through the air. A thoughtful expression crosses her face as she breaks the silence, delving into the delicate topic. “I’ve been thinking about the inheritance,” she begins, and the gravity of her words hangs in the air. “You considered selling it for financial reasons, right?”

Her unexpected revival of the topic catches you off guard, and your eyes widen imperceptibly. “You’re right,” you admit, a touch of vulnerability in your voice. “Financial strain was indeed a factor in considering the sale.”

Her inquiry is direct, and you can sense the underlying concern in her eyes. “So, what’s the situation now? Do you still find yourself in need of money?” she leans in, her expression tinged with a hint of discomfort, acknowledging the sensitivity of the topic.

“No, I actually don’t,” no longer tethered by financial constraints, you respond with a reassuring smile, gently tracing the rim of your chilled cup. The unrelenting heat persists, making the solace of ice-cold refreshments all the more enjoyable.

Her expression morphs into one of confusion, a visible question mark etched on her face, signaling her inability to grasp the underlying meaning of your words.

Chuckles escape you as you take a refreshing sip of water, then leaning in across the table, your eyes alight with excitement. “I’ve been selling my paintings,” you reveal, the joy evident in your voice. “Capturing the essence of the ranch and the breathtaking nature around it has sparked a high demand. Surprisingly, I’ve raked in a considerable sum even before returning to the ranch.”

Jessi’s jaw drops momentarily, but soon her features transform into a mix of astonishment and pride. “Wow, I’m genuinely proud of you!”

Gratitude fills your smile as you respond, “Thank you,” basking in the warmth of her compliment.

A shadow of concern lingers in her eyes as she confesses, “I was getting worried you might still sell your share due to money problems…” Her gaze briefly drops to the ground before lifting, locking onto yours. “But I’m relieved that isn’t the case.”

You shake your head, a determined smile playing on your lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll never sell it. We agreed to do this together, right? Sisters running the ranch and all. Our legacy, our story.”

Her face lights up, a radiant smile stretching across her features as she emphatically nods in agreement, a silent understanding passing between you.

In the realm of childhood dreams, this reality surpasses every fleeting vision. Rediscovering the bond with your sister, the slow unraveling of shared memories, has proven to be an unexpectedly enchanting journey, far beyond the scope of your youthful imagination.

“Ease into the moment, let the rhythm of patience guide you,” Yoongi murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips. As the ebony mare gracefully weaves circles around you in the pen, he offers sagely advice, “Today may not be the day of readiness, but that’s part of the journey. Stand your ground, let her spirit unfurl, and witness the magic unfold,” he continues, standing by your side in silent camaraderie.

Implementing Yoongi’s wisdom proves to be a formidable challenge; impatience pulses through your veins as you yearn for an instantaneous connection with the mare. Despite the echoing reminder that patience is the key, a fervent desire to befriend her lingers within you, creating a delicate dance between restraint and eagerness.

As the mare gracefully trots around, a surge of connection prompts you to share, “I’ve given her a name.”

His chuckle resonates beside you as he inquires, “You’ve already given her a name?”

With unwavering certainty, you announce, “Yeah. I’m calling her Mikrokosmos,” your voice carrying a trace of affection for the newfound companion.

Curiosity lighting up his eyes, he inquires, “That’s a cool name, what made you think of that?”

“I just thought she looked like the deep black night sky and space, as if she’s her own universe,” you muse, a small laugh dancing in your voice.

He smiles warmly and chuckles, “Well, it’s cute.”

You chuckle, feeling the impatience gradually dissipate, your shoulders easing into a more relaxed state. Mikrokosmos continues her lively dance, her nose flaring as she snorts audibly, thoroughly examining the fence and her surroundings with a mix of curiosity and untamed energy.

Yoongi pivots to meet your gaze, his expression a curious blend of emotions—is it pain or something else? Without a clear answer, he leans in, encroaching upon your personal space. Surprisingly, you don’t mind; after all, you’re friends. 

Your attention shifts beyond him, catching sight of Jimin strolling from the ranch. A smile graces his lips as he approaches, and you reciprocate with a soft smile, a sense of giddiness washing over you at the prospect of reconnecting with him after a few days of silence.

Your assumption that Yoongi is leaning in for a friendly hug causes you to gradually envelop him in your arms. Unexpectedly, his face inches closer to yours—not in the platonic manner of a hug. 

Suddenly, his lips meet yours, jolting you into a state of bewilderment, shock, and momentary paralysis.

Shock floods your widened eyes, and Jimin’s gaze mirrors the distaste and anger you feel. Hurt emanates from his eyes, causing your heart to plummet. The ground beneath seems to liquefy, dragging you into a pool of dismay. Yoongi’s unexpected kiss is not welcomed, not when you don’t harbor romantic feelings for him. Reacting swiftly, you push him away, your own eyes revealing a mix of hurt and anger. But as you prepare to address the situation, you catch Jimin turning away, retreating towards the ranch.

Fuck.

Jimin’s displeasure is palpable, a mirrored reflection of your own sentiments. Desperate to convey that the unexpected kiss held no significance, that it wasn’t your intention, your legs propel you toward the fence. Scaling it with urgency, you leave Yoongi and Mikrokosmos to their own devices, racing after Jimin. The wind whistles in your ears, and your heart pounds, driven by the fervent need to bridge the gap between you and Jimin, to unravel the misunderstanding that threatens to shatter the fragile threads of whatever you had going between you.

“Jimin!” Your plea slices through the air, racing to catch up with him. The yard looms ahead, but he remains elusive, navigating the space on his limping leg. Each step feels like a chasm widening between you, a silent testament to the unintended chaos wrought by an unwelcome kiss. 

Breathless, you catch up with him, seizing his strong arm and urgently turning him toward you. “Jimin, it’s not what it seems—I need to explain!” The words tumble out, a cascade of sincerity, as you strive to convey the complexity of the moment, hoping to bridge the gap that has abruptly widened between you.

He halts abruptly, an aura of seething anger radiating from him like palpable waves of heat. His voice drips with venom as he accuses, “You kissed Yoongi.”

Your desperate explanation spills forth, the words rushing out like a cascade of untamed emotions. “No, I didn’t! He kissed me, and I didn’t want that. It meant nothing, okay?” Your heart pounds fiercely, echoing the thunderous hooves of a thousand wild horses. It’s suffocating; each breath feels like a struggle. 

You yearn for Jimin to grasp the misunderstanding, to understand that you’re as bewildered as he is. The haunting question lingers in your mind: Why the fuck did Yoongi kiss you?

He’s a stark contrast to his usual self; anger consumes him, his breaths quick and labored, and every muscle in his body appears ready to burst with tension.

In those silent moments, he stands like a formidable statue, his thoughts shrouded in mystery. The air around him crackles with anger and disappointment, emotions that hang heavily between you, palpable yet elusive.

Exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh, he visibly attempts to ease the tension in his body, his words carrying an air of indifference, “I don’t care.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief; this wasn’t the reaction you anticipated. While understanding his anger, you had hoped for a chance to discuss it. His face reflects a mix of pain and fury, prompting you to reach out for his arm again. However, the moment your fingers make contact, he flinches, taking a step back as if your touch stings.

It feels as though your touch seared him, igniting a reaction that sends a pang of guilt through you. Desperate to convey that it meant nothing, you yearn to reassure him, yet his unwillingness to listen leaves you grappling with the weight of unspoken words.

His words cut through the air, laden with a hurt that goes beyond the surface. “You’re always into everybody else. It’s never me. I’m never the one,” he utters, his voice heavy with a profound ache. Each word feels like an anchor, dragging you into a sea of emotional turmoil, where you’re left drowning in the depths of his unspoken pain.

The ache lingers, his words a sharp sting that resonates through your being. In that poignant moment, you find yourself paralyzed, the words you long to express caught in the web of your emotions. You yearn to convey that he is the one, the orchestrator of the symphony that makes your heart resonate with love and purpose. Yet, the words remain elusive, trapped within the confines of your unspoken sentiments. 

Why won’t they surface when you need them the most?

A torrent of tears threatens to spill from your eyes, and an overwhelming urge to scream builds within you as you witness him walking away, heading towards his house. Yet, your legs betray you, frozen in place as if your feet have fused with the very ground beneath you, rendering you immobile in the wake of your tumultuous emotions.

In a desperate attempt to bridge the widening gap between you, your hand stretches out, aching to grasp onto him. Your voice, a strangled plea, escapes your lips, echoing through the thin air, while tears carve rivers down the contours of your cheeks.

As he reaches for the doorknob, a profound moment unfolds. His gaze, once filled with a lively spark, now appears vacant. His complexion pales, a deep frown etches his features, and the hurt in his eyes sends unsettling tremors through your stomach, as if threatening to unleash a wave of nausea.

The door slams shut, echoing a resounding finality that leaves you hollow. 

Your heart constricts, a blend of hurt and sadness flooding through you. Each breath feels slightly labored as you gather the strength to decide whether to confront Jimin once more or turn to Yoongi, demanding an explanation for what the fuck that kiss was about.

You comprehend Jimin’s anger and hurt, yet it was merely a kiss, and you’ve conveyed this to him. Why won’t he lend an ear to your explanation? It’s just a damn kiss. Why does this particular incident shatter him, especially when he’s aware of your past involvement with his brother?

Sensing Jimin’s reluctance to engage in conversation, you let out a sigh, realizing it might be wiser to allow him some time to cool off before attempting to discuss the matter further. Despite having emphasized to him that the kiss was not intentional and stemmed from a misunderstanding, you can’t help but wonder if he truly absorbed your words.

As you release another heavy sigh, the weight on your shoulders seems to lift slightly, and you turn your body toward Yoongi. In this moment of emotional turbulence, with your world feeling like it’s flipped upside down, you resolve to address the issue with Jimin later, once he’s had time to cool off. There’s a determination in your heart to explain, to make him understand that he is undeniably the one who holds a special place in your heart.

Returning to the pen with Mikrokosmos and approaching Yoongi, there’s a palpable tension in the air, both within you and emanating from him. As you ascend the fence, gracefully landing on the sandy ground of the pen, Mikrokosmos continues her playful trot around. You decide to let her roam freely for the moment, turning your attention to the visibly apprehensive Yoongi.

Your hand shoots up, accusatory finger pointed directly at Yoongi. “What on earth was that, Yoongi?” The words carry a mix of frustration and confusion, your voice demanding an explanation for the unexpected kiss that has left you reeling.

Fury courses through you as you confront him, your eyes ablaze with anger. “I can’t believe you did that, Yoongi. What were you thinking?” His pained expression hints at something deeper, and a momentary wave of confusion washes over your anger.

“I’m so sorry, I–,” he stammers, his shoulders slumped, an apologetic look in his eyes that matches the turmoil you feel inside. His deflated demeanor echoes your own, both marred by the chaos of emotions.

You brace yourself, waiting for his words, and he releases a heavy sigh. “Fuck. I’m so sorry,” he admits, absentmindedly kicking up the sand beneath his restless feet.

“I...I…” he stammers, and frustration builds within you as the seconds tick away, leaving you increasingly agitated by his apparent reluctance to offer an explanation for why he unexpectedly kissed you.

“I think I’m gay,” he suddenly blurts out, and you’re taken aback. Confusion clouds your expression as you blink, trying to reconcile this revelation with the unexpected kiss, leaving you grappling with a puzzle that refuses to neatly fit together.

He gazes at you, and it’s as if he can decipher the thoughts racing through your mind. Despite the lingering pain etched on his face, a genuine sorrow and deflation accompany his words, “I kissed you because I needed to know if there was a spark between us, as a man and a woman.”

You nod in a semblance of comprehension, though his reasoning feels like a puzzle missing a crucial piece, leaving you with an unresolved sense of confusion.

“For a while now, I’ve found myself drawn to men, but it feels... weird, you know? I thought, perhaps, your sweetness and kindness could kindle a spark of interest in women for me, but it’s all so confusing.” He casts his gaze downward, releasing a sigh of frustration, and you meet his troubled eyes with a profound sense of empathy.

“Oh, Yoongi. Why didn’t you tell me?” you sigh, reaching for his arm and offering a reassuring stroke.

“It wasn’t cool of you to kiss me,” you begin in a soft voice, searching for his gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of confusion and understanding.

“There wasn’t even a spark,” he confesses, his voice hiccuping, tears streaming down his face, a raw vulnerability in his eyes that leaves you both exposed and connected in that fragile moment.

You envelop him in a comforting embrace, his tears dampening your shoulder. Despite the lingering frustration over his impulsive kiss, you can’t help but feel a surge of empathy. He’s navigating uncharted emotional waters, and you sense the vulnerability in his tears, making you momentarily set aside your own turmoil.

“I’m sorry. It’s just... I don’t know what came over me. I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers into the fabric of your shoulder, each word carrying the weight of regret, his tears leaving a palpable mark on your shirt.

“Yoongi, it’s okay,” you comfort him with a reassuring pat on his back. Mikrokosmos stands still opposite you both, a silent observer in the emotionally charged moment.

“Listen, you shouldn’t have kissed me. What you’re going through, you should’ve talked to me about it. And, please, there’s nothing wrong with liking men, okay? You can like whoever you want,” you assert, taking a step back to meet his eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”

Even through his tears and sobs, he looks at you with a puzzled expression. “Even with Jimin?”

Honestly, you don’t have all the answers, but you cling to hope. With a reassuring nod, you assert, “Jimin will come around.”

Days have passed, and the rift between you and Jimin remains unhealed. Every attempt to bridge the gap with words has been met with his silent retreat, leaving your pleas hanging in the air, unanswered.

Every passing day, the weight on your heart intensifies as Jimin continues to evade you. Returning to the ranch, the familiar routine with Yoongi feels strange, not because of any discord between you and him – you’ve reassured each other that everything is fine – but the unspoken tension with Jimin casts a shadow over the otherwise familiar landscape.

Diving into the world of wild horses with Yoongi acts as a soothing balm for your restless thoughts though, granting a momentary reprieve from the constant echoes of Jimin in your mind.

Today unfolds with a familiar dance between you and Mikrokosmos, each step a delicate negotiation of trust. Yoongi’s words echo in your mind, a reminder that forging a connection with her is a patient journey, a symphony of moments yet to be composed.

As Mikrokosmos gracefully weaves through the pen, Yoongi perches atop the fence, his keen eyes tracing the intricate dance between you and the wild mare, a silent maestro orchestrating a ballet of trust and understanding.

“Feel the rhythm of the moment, ease into it, and keep that calm composure,” he encourages, affirming your efforts with a reassuring nod.

“How have you been since last time?” you inquire, alluding to that unexpected moment when everything seemed to pivot with that unexpected kiss.

He wears a deflated expression, exhaling a sigh, “I’m still sorry for kissing you.”

“It’s fine. But I’m here for you. It seems like you could use somebody to talk to, don’t you think?” you inquire, wearing a soft smile.

He manages a small smile, though it’s faint. “Yeah, I haven’t really talked to anybody about it. It’s embarrassing,” he admits, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and relief.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. There’s nothing wrong with liking men, women, transgender persons, non-binary persons, or none at all,” you reassure him with a warm smile, your attention divided between the conversation and the subtle progress with Mikrokosmos inching closer to you.

“A gay cowboy, that ain’t gonna be an easy trail to ride,” he sighs deeply, a sense of deflation settling over him once more.

“I understand, but I believe you’re being too hard on yourself,” you say with a gentle voice, aiming to provide reassurance.

“Is there anyone catching your eye?” you inquire, a note of hope in your voice, as you witness his eyes light up with a sudden sparkle, gradually breaking into a warm smile.

“There is, but I don’t think he reciprocates,” he confesses, a sense of deflation in his tone contrasting with the bright shimmer in his eyes.

“Have you asked him, or shared your feelings with him?” you inquire, turning your gaze toward Mikrokosmos. She ambles around, occasionally snorting at the soft sand.

“No! I’m too afraid to tell him. I don’t want things to change between us because of my feelings,” he confesses, the words tumbling out in an almost frantic shout, briefly startling Mikrokosmos.

You give him a sheepish smile; you truly understand his hesitation. It’s hard putting your heart and feelings on a platter. You don’t know if the other person feels the same or if your heart is going to get scattered. But, deep down, you believe it’s worth putting your heart out there. 

Sometimes, the risk is what makes the reward extraordinary.

“When you’re ready, I believe you should tell him,” you say, infusing your words with the hope that resides within you, a hope that everything will unfold into something beautiful.

You sense an additional presence behind you, and as you turn around, you catch Yoongi fixedly gazing at something—or someone—over your shoulder. Intrigued, you pivot to find Jimin leaning against the fence, his gaze locked onto Yoongi.

Jimin’s voice slices through the air, a sharp edge to his tone that matches the intensity etched on his face. “I need you to drive into town and buy some new feed for the horses,” he instructs, the anger palpable in his words and expression.

“Sure boss,” Yoongi responds with a crisp nod, his acknowledgment carrying an undercurrent of tension, an unspoken acknowledgment of the brewing storm between you and Jimin.

Yearning for a chance to talk, you tentatively approach Jimin, hope lacing your voice as you softly inquire, “Hey, Jimin, can I talk to you?” 

Your attempt at a warm smile hangs in the air, but he remains distant, his gaze piercing through you as if you’re invisible. Silence greets your plea, his lack of response a profound dismissal as he pivots away, retreating to whatever occupied his attention before.

Stunned and disheartened, you linger in disbelief, the weight of Jimin’s blatant disregard settling heavily on your shoulders. An unsettling sensation creeps in, the palpable silence amplifying the sinking feeling in your chest. Kicking at the sand with your boots, a surge of deflation courses through you, leaving you stranded in a sea of unanswered questions and unspoken tensions.

A somber expression clouds Yoongi’s face as he inquires, “He still hasn’t talked to you?” 

Your head shakes in response. 

The mystery of Jimin’s continued silence baffles you, each attempt to bridge the gap met with indifference. Despite your persistent efforts, he remains resolute in his avoidance, a clear indication of his desire to keep his distance.

You release a heavy exhale, frustration etching into your words. “It’s as if he’s deliberately ignoring and avoiding me.”

“Do you want me to talk to him? Clarify that the kiss meant nothing, and apologize for my mistake?” Yoongi offers, his willingness to step in as a friend evident. However, you hesitate, not wanting him to fight your battles. You’re convinced that Jimin simply needs more time to come around, right?

“No. I doubt it would make a difference anyway. I’ve already assured him that it was meaningless, so I don’t understand why he’s still so angry…” Your words trail off, spoken in a hushed tone, carrying the weight of your frustration and confusion.

Yearning for a breakthrough, you contemplate slipping into the dress Jimin gifted you back in the city. Maybe, just maybe, it will catch his eye and pave the way for the conversation you so desperately crave. 

The unanswered questions weigh on you, leaving you bewildered as to why he won’t grant you a chance to clarify things.

Draped in the dress Jimin gave you, you delicately apply a touch of makeup, accentuating your features according to your own personal style. The anticipation lingers in the air, a silent plea for this subtle effort to break through the walls Jimin has erected.

As you finish preparing, you join the other girls outside the yard. Their outfits exude comfort and beauty, each reflecting their unique styles. Ara’s curly hair complements a simple shirt and knee-length skirt, paired with low heels. Ha-rin gracefully dons a sleek, figure-hugging dress. Your sister embraces a casual vibe with a shirt and jeans, a choice you appreciate. Meanwhile, Soo-ah stands out in a vibrant blue dress, accentuating her blonde hair. It’s just a casual outing to the bar, but the simplicity carries an understated elegance among the group.

Jessi confidently takes the wheel, her hands gripping it with purpose as you all pile into the car. With a decisive turn of the key, the engine roars to life, and she skillfully guides the vehicle down the dusty road, steering towards town. 

As the car glides through the landscape, your gaze fixates on the passing scenery outside the window. The lively chatter of the other girls becomes a distant murmur as your thoughts wander into the realm of introspection. The vibrant colors of the world blur into a kaleidoscope, your mind lost in contemplation, oblivious to the conversations swirling around you.

Suddenly, a gentle poke interrupts your introspection, and you pivot to find Soo-ah’s cerulean gaze locked onto yours. Her concern echoes in the soft curve of her brows as she delicately inquires, “What’s troubling you?”

As you release a heavy sigh, frustration coursing through you like an electric current, you run your fingers through your hair. The tangled web of untold secrets and unspoken emotions weighs on your shoulders. The girls remain oblivious to the unspoken turmoil – the unexpected kiss from Yoongi, the revelation of his sexuality, Jimin’s furious reaction, and the ensuing silence that has settled between you and him like an unbreachable chasm.

“Jimin is mad at me,” as the words escape your lips, a heavy admission lingering in the air, you allow your body to slump against the car seat, a profound sense of deflation settling over you. This situation with Jimin is a bitter pill, a taste of discontent that lingers on your tongue.

This sucks.

Soo-ah’s gaze, a curious blend of concern and confusion, locks onto you as she poses the question, “Why is he mad at you? I thought everything was well since their party.” 

“He saw Yoongi kiss me,” you sigh, the weight of frustration evident in the sound. A collective hush descends upon the car as the gravity of your revelation captures the attention of the rest of the girls.

“Wait, you kissed Yoongi?” Ha-rin’s eyes widen in surprise, her tone revealing a mixture of shock and curiosity.

“No, I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me. There’s a big difference!” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest with a frustrated huff.

Ara’s voice comes from the front passenger seat, cutting through the tension, “Oh. Do you like Yoongi now, then?”

“No! I still like Jimin. But he doesn’t want to talk to me since he saw that kiss. I tried to explain to him that it meant nothing, but he didn’t want to listen and slammed the door in my face…” you lament, the frustration evident in your voice.

“So he knows it didn’t mean anything?” Soo-ah inquires, her eyes probing for the truth.

“Yeah. I told him,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug, a mix of frustration and resignation lingering in your voice.

Your sister’s soft voice breaks the tension, drawing your attention. “Jimin is a very sensitive guy, you know?” she remarks, her words carrying a touch of understanding for both you and Jimin.

“I’m beginning to understand that, yeah…” you mutter, releasing another heavy sigh that echoes the weight of the situation.

“He’s quick to feel jealousy, especially when it involves his brother,” Jessi chimes in, her gaze fixed on the winding road ahead.

“But it was Yoongi, not Jungkook. I can’t wrap my head around why he’s upset about this but not when I slept with Jungkook,” you express, genuine confusion evident in your words.

“I believe he took time grappling with the fact that you were involved with Jungkook. It hurt him deeply. They have a competitive relationship, and if he can overcome that, it shows he truly cares for you,” your sister suggests, her voice carrying a hopeful tone.

“But why won’t he talk to me then?” Frustration seeps into your voice. All you yearn for is a conversation with Jimin, to express that you desire him, that you need him in your life.

“Did he say anything else?” Soo-ah inquires, her mind working to find a solution that might aid you.

Your mind races, and then it clicks— he did say something! “He did say: ‘You’re always into everybody else. It’s never me. I’m never the one’,” you share, the weight of those words lingering in the air.

A shared understanding seems to envelop everyone else, leaving you on the outskirts as they exchange knowing glances with one another.

“What is it?” you inquire, eager to unravel the undisclosed facets of Jimin’s life that have eluded you.

“I think he’s hurt,” Ara shares, causing you to roll your eyes. The frustration mounts as the question still persists: Why won’t he talk to you?

“Every time Jimin’s been in a relationship, they’ve always left him, whether for his brother or someone else. He’s never the one they pick,” Jessi shares, her voice tinged with sadness. She looks at you through the rearview mirror, her eyes holding a depth of understanding. “I think he’s hurt too, by always being picked last.”

Your heart plummets. 

He did express that he’s ’never the one’, but in your heart, he’s ‘the one’ for you. 

The realization hits you hard; you didn’t assure him of this crucial truth when he needed to hear it the most. If only you had voiced those feelings, perhaps you wouldn’t be grappling with this gut-wrenching sensation in your stomach.

“But he is the one for me,” you murmur in a hushed and almost imperceptible tone, yet the gravity of your words resonates clearly with the girls.

“Then tell him that,” Soo-ah urges, her hand offering a supportive squeeze on your arm.

You nod, grateful for the girls’ advice and your sister’s insights into Jimin’s past relationships. Determination courses through your veins as you clench your hands. Tonight, you’ve decided, you will talk to Jimin and bare your feelings to him.

How he’s the one who has held a special place in your heart since childhood, a crush that has only deepened with time. You yearn to confess that he’s the one you desire, envisioning a dance of closeness, where his arms envelop you, and your embrace reciprocates the warmth you’ve always craved.

You can do it. Tonight is the night.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car next to Jimin’s unmistakable blue truck, your heart quickens its rhythm. The sight of his vehicle acts as a silent cue, summoning the courage that has been building within you. Tonight, in the embrace of the bar’s glow, you are determined to release the words that have lingered in the depths of your heart, ready to unfold your emotions to Jimin.

Upon entering the bar, the lively scene unfolds before you: Jungkook and Yoongi engage in a fierce game of pool, drawing a crowd that includes Hoseok, Namjoon, and the mysterious guy from the party.

Meanwhile, at the bar, your eyes lock onto Jimin, seated intimately with a woman. Her laughter dances in the air as she leans into his touch, playfully twirling a strand of hair around her finger, while her hands find their way to his biceps, giving a teasing squeeze. 

A vice tightens around your heart, squeezing it within the confines of your chest. It plummets, dragging you into an emotional abyss. The sensation is akin to a dizzying free fall, the room spinning uncontrollably before your eyes.

The girls sense your frozen reaction and swiftly grab your arm, forcibly steering you away from the heart-wrenching scene. Your body feels immobilized, as if they need to physically drag you away from the emotional vortex that threatens to consume you.

They usher you towards the pool table, where the mysterious guy introduces himself as Seokjin. As you make eye contact with Yoongi, his expression reflects both concern and sadness. The other guys share similar sentiments, but it’s Jungkook who breaks the silence, his voice heavy with regret, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he would bring a date…”

You feign a smile, attempting to conceal your true emotions behind a façade of forced cheerfulness, though you suspect everyone can easily discern the charade. Yet, you couldn’t care less about that.

Hoseok wraps you in a comforting embrace, whispering reassurances, “It’s gonna be okay.”

However, the words fall on deaf ears as a storm of emotions brews within. Far from feeling okay, you sense a hollowness. The night intended for expressing your feelings to Jimin has taken an unexpected turn, leaving you questioning if he’s truly moved on.

Your voice barely above a whisper, you cautiously inquire, “Is he dating her?” 

The vulnerability in your tone reflects the internal struggle, torn between the desire for truth and the fear that it might shatter the fragile pieces of your heart. Despite the apprehension, you steel yourself for the reality you might have to face.

A heavy sigh escapes Jungkook’s lips as he confirms, “He is. It happened only a few days ago.” His words carry the weight of empathy, and his eyes convey a shared sorrow, understanding the depth of the wound that’s just been exposed.

“It’s Deiji, his old physiotherapist.” Jungkook adds with a heavy voice as he lets Yoongi have a turn at the pool table. His eyes reflect a genuine sadness, as does the whole group.

Your heart plummets into an abyss of confusion and hurt. Instead of choosing to communicate with you, he sought solace in someone else’s company. The ache in your chest deepens as you grapple with the unfathomable question of why he couldn’t have just spoken to you, choosing connection over the cold distance that now separates you both.

Your heart clenches, threatening to suffocate you with an overwhelming surge of nausea. 

The sight of Jimin and his newfound companion engrossed in tender exchanges and affectionate gestures feels like a relentless assault on your senses. The lovey-dovey expressions, the sweet whispers shared in each other’s ears, and their gentle caresses become an unbearable spectacle, driving you to the edge of discomfort. 

Ugh, you can’t take it.

Yoongi steps closer, intertwining his fingers with yours, prompting you to release Hoseok. His words carry a glimmer of hope, “Perhaps he just needs a bit more time to come around?”

Doubt seeps into your thoughts like a bitter poison. His swift transition to move on, without allowing you to explain or talk leaves you with a void, a concoction of sadness and a smoldering ember of anger burning within.

“I don’t think so,” a heavy sigh escapes your lips as you divert your gaze from the sight of Jimin and his new companion at the bar. Nausea knots your stomach, a visceral reaction to the realization that being in this room, in Jimin’s presence, is now a painful experience. The intention to confess your feelings replaced by the stark truth that his heart has found a different destination.

As the guys attempt to lift your spirits with a game of pool and some beers, the once familiar taste of the brew now carries a strange bitterness, unlike its usual comforting flavor. Your focus wavers, and it feels as though you’re observing the scene through distorted glasses, the world around you losing its usual vibrancy.

You believed that you and Jimin shared something unique—sure, you weren’t officially an item, but you were inching your way there, weren’t you?

Once more, you find yourself submerged in the vast ocean of your own emotions. If only you had proclaimed to Jimin that he was the one for you. If only you hadn’t frozen on that fateful day! 

’What ifs’ echo loudly in the chambers of your heart.

Your fists tighten involuntarily, the bitter taste in your mouth mirroring the ache within. The past is immutable; all you can do is forge ahead. If Jimin has chosen to let his feelings for you fade, perhaps it’s time to release your own grip and move forward. 

Easier said than done, as you find yourself hesitant to relinquish the tether to your emotions, unwilling to surrender to the prospect of letting go.

Throughout the remainder of the night, the guys make a genuine effort to lift your spirits. The once familiar taste of beer now repulses you so much, rendering you the designated driver. As a result, the girls indulge in even more libations, their laughter and banter echoing against the backdrop of your own subdued thoughts.

Amidst the melancholy, you find solace in witnessing their joy, and a genuine laugh escapes you when Yoongi triumphs over Jungkook at the pool table.

Despite the fragility of your heart, you can’t help but steal glances toward Jimin, engrossed in his conversation with this Deiji girl. A conflicted part of you contemplates confessing your feelings, but the shattered remnants of your confidence hold you back. After a week of deliberate avoidance, you doubt he would even spare you a glance.

As Jimin engages in conversation, the subtle traces of irritation etched on his face catch your notice, leaving you with a sinking realization that you might be the source of his vexation.

As you chauffeur the girls home that night, their laughter resonates within the car, yet your heart doesn’t resonate with the joy. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, your fingers mirror the clenching ache in your heart, and the darkness of the night reflects the shadows looming over the what-could-have-been with Jimin.

Engaging in work becomes your refuge, a distraction from the constant reverie of Jimin that clouds your thoughts. Despite your concerted effort, escaping his presence proves challenging, especially on his sprawling property. His distinctive soft locks and infectious laughter ripple through the yard, infiltrating the serene atmosphere where you and Yoongi diligently toil with the wild horses.

The sight of Jimin reveling in happiness with someone else ignites a bitter flame within you, a bitter concoction of disappointment and self-blame. As the waves of resentment crash against your emotional shore, you grapple with the realization that, perhaps, Jimin’s inability to engage in a mature conversation has tarnished the pedestal on which you once held him.

You and Yoongi dedicate your efforts to the brown mare, a patient companion in need of trust. Observing Yoongi’s skilled hands, you witness the delicate dance between man and horse unfold. His fingers caress the mare’s neck, traverse its sturdy body, and gracefully navigate down its legs, weaving a tale of connection and understanding through the language of touch.

With a practiced finesse, he shifts his hands back to the mare’s back, deftly applying his body weight as though securing an invisible saddle. The mare, a silent witness to this equine ballet, stands unperturbed, a testament to the trust forged between horse and human through the gentle language of handling.

“Calling it a day with this one,” he declares, a self-assured grin lighting up his face, even as the horse affectionately nudges his shoulder, sealing the unspoken bond formed in the tranquil dance of understanding.

Turning his attention towards you, he leads the brown mare away into the nearby paddock, asking, “Do you want to work on Mikrokosmos?”

Grateful for the distraction, you nod and reply, “Yes, that would be nice.” 

Together, you walk back to the stables, anticipation building as you prepare to face the untamed spirit of Mikrokosmos.

With a sense of accomplishment, he entrusts you with the task. 

Gently, you open her stall, and to your delight, Mikrokosmos willingly follows your lead. Lately, her trust in you has grown, allowing you to guide her without the need for a halter or a lead rope. Together, you stroll down to the pen, opening the fence and stepping inside, a testament to the bond you’ve formed.

Yoongi secures the gate behind you, swiftly leaping up to perch on the fence, his eyes keenly fixed on your every move as you begin your task.

As Mikrokosmos ambles around you in a deliberate circle, the rhythmic sound of her snorts fills the air, her curiosity piqued by the familiar scent of the weathered fence.

As Mikrokosmos gradually inches closer, a palpable sense of anticipation builds within you. Your desire for her to ‘join up’ intensifies, a connection you’ve been yearning for, still elusive in her hesitant movements.

Yet, in an unexpected shift, she retreats, leaving you with a subtle sense of deflation. The proximity you felt, a fleeting promise, slips away, and a tinge of disappointment lingers in the air.

From his perch atop the fence, Yoongi’s voice floats down, breaking the quiet, “Relax. Are you stressed or nervous?”

As the realization dawns, a mix of stress, irritation, and sadness swirl within you. A tumultuous cascade of emotions that might not be the best companions when seeking a horse’s trust.

Your head bobs in agreement. “I think I need to clear my head,” you admit, the weight of unspoken turmoil palpable in the air.

Understanding seems to pass silently between you and Yoongi. He gracefully hops down from the fence, offering a reassuring nod and a faint smile as you trudge back to the gate, unlocking it with a heavy heart.

You stride purposefully to where Marshmallow is tethered. Swiftly unfastening him, you deftly place your foot in the stirrup and swing your leg over the saddle. With a gentle kick to his sides, you urge him into a spirited gallop, the wind whipping through your hair as you both charge forward.

Without a word to Yoongi, you let Marshmallow take charge, giving him free rein to gallop ahead, the rhythmic beat of hooves on the earth harmonizing with the rush of wind in your ears. 

As the wind weaves through your hair, the rhythmic gallop of Marshmallow beneath you becomes a soothing cadence, drowning out the tumultuous thoughts of what could have been with Jimin. Instead, you choose the liberating path of a blank canvas, letting your mind mirror the pristine slate before the stroke of a paintbrush. The open expanse before you becomes a metaphorical canvas for new possibilities, each hoofbeat a brushstroke on the masterpiece of your own journey.

Underneath Marshmallow’s rhythmic hooves, you traverse hilltops, wind through enchanting forests, and traverse expansive open lands. The beauty around you serves as a healing balm for your heart. 

In the distance, a wild herd of horses captures your attention, prompting you to guide Marshmallow into a steady walk. In silent reverence, you approach, not wanting to disrupt the natural dance of the herd, but to observe them silently.

Before you, the wild horses grace the landscape with their untamed beauty, a sight that never fails to captivate. Gazing upon them, an unspoken yearning echoes within you — a desire to emulate their unbridled freedom, devoid of obligations, untouched by pain, liberated from the weight that burdens your gut.

Your hand gently strokes Marshmallow’s neck, a tender connection in the midst of your emotions. Tears trace silent paths down your face, and the horse, ever understanding, carries you through the ebb and flow of your heartache.

Oh, the weight of regret settles on your heart as you yearn for the courage to have confessed your feelings to Jimin on that fateful day when Yoongi kissed you. 

If only the hands of time could rewind, granting you a chance to rewrite the narrative of your heart.

The pang of regret lingers, a bitter aftertaste staining your every thought.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.2

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

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masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

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4th December

Barcelona, Spain

"Are you sure we won't get caught?"

Cassandra's hushed concern laced with irrational excitement got Taehyung snicker under his breath. He briefly glanced over his shoulder, seeing her wonderous gaze as she was leaning in to try catching a glance of what he was doing.

"Not if you keep watching for any prying eyes," he countered with a smirk, causing her to mumble a muffled 'okay' into her scarf and returning to stand guard as she trusted him for some naive reason. And he continued shortwiring the alarm system.

Her eyes briefly wandered down to the colourful beige-brown-yellow pattern of wet tiles beyond the canopy, which covered the backyard of Casa Batlló. Quickly heaving them again to look around into the rainy afternoon, ensuring no one was seeing them indeed.

Usually the building and the integrated museum were open till late, 10pm, every day. However, that day and the next it was supposed to be closed for some minor renovations. Cassandra had mindlessly mentioned that as the two had passed by in search for a place to await the rain. Neither one having an umbrella. She hadn't expected him suggesting to break in, knowing it was one of her favourite buildings in the city, clearly joking and not actually meaning it. And she surely hadn't expected herself to agree despite knowing it was all tongue-in-cheek.

Feeling an unknown thrill and rush while standing there behind the fence now, shielding his thievery skills while he worked on the rather simple security system - as he claimed.

"Thought your friend was the master thief," she giggled then over her shoulder before redirecting her focus to their surroundings.

Taehyung only huffed at this. "Doesn't mean I don't have some aces up my sleeve, too." A cocky smirk audible in his voice.

A shiver crept up under her pink woollen coat then and she wondered if he wasn't cold at all with his rather thin coat, which was even left unbottoned. Simply unable to comprehend how someone wouldn't feel the need for a scarf in the with humidity spiked coldness of the city.

It was the middle of winter after all, also meaning it got dark earlier and the rainy clouds surely quickened the process. They still got some time left though. Which unfortunately also meant someone could still see them, despite the possibility being low considering the downpour.

Besides, Cassandra was also uncertain if all the other neighbouring buildings weren't inhabited like this one. She knew the one on the right was something like a parfum museum. The ones on the left looked a lot like office buildings. But the rest around the backyard? No clue.

Before she could voice any of her concerns, however, she heard Taehyung's triumphant cheer. And he got up from the electrical panel, cracking open the backdoor with ease. Holding it wide open for her to hurry inside and observed all nervousness wash away from Cassandra's face the further inside they stepped. Her brown irises big while they looked around the colourful tiles and curves. Their footsteps echoing against them in the empty silence.

"Come, this way!" she beamed with excitement while gripping her backpack tighter and he followed her through the posh dining room to a corridor, until they reached the entrance hall.

The place evoked an underwater environment with its white and light blue. They began climbing up the staircase then, past the lightwell which distributed the air and light that entered through the main skylight on top. Also completely covered in tiles of shades of blue, with more intense colour in the upper part and lighter tiles at the bottom.

There was a strangeness to seeing all those high-built exhalted rooms and spaces deprived of any presence and noise but theirs.

Eventually they reached the top and the entrance to the roof terrace.

It sounded like the rain had stopped by now, the clouds having wandered further away to another city part. But since they were already there, might as well take advantage of it. So she let him take over again, allowing him to pick the roof door's lock.

The roof terrace was dominated on each end by what was popularly known as the dragon's back, which characterised the facade and had been represented with different coloured tiles. However, the main focal point of the terrace were the four crooked and polychrome chimney stacks.

The rooftops of all the other buildings around the blocks visible beyond them. Bathed in a warm hue by the low winter sun that peeked through the now clearing clouds.

Everything glistening wet, reflecting its rays.

"I've never been here with no other people around," she said, taking in the view in awe. Not paying attention to the slippery ground, she'd have landed on the cold tiles if it wasn't for Taehyung's quick reaction. Grabbing her arm and holding onto her tightly.

"Careful, clumsy fellow."

She blushed at his teasing grin. "Y-yeah, thanks."

There were a few chairs scattered around for visitors and they settled for a couple under a porch, spared from the rain. And Taehyung's eyes widened when watching Cassandra unpack a small drawing pad and a pencil. Seeing her beginning sketching on her lap.

It didn't happen often, but there were periods she really got into this often overlooked interest of hers. Overlooked since studying and working had taken up most energy in the past. Not leaving much for anything else. So she tried picking it up again whenever she could, carrying her pad and pencil wherever she went.

He peeked on her paper, seeing the rough outline of the skyline and the roof taking shape on it. And he pursed his lips. "You draw?"

"Mh, a bit. Sometimes."

"Do you have a spare piece of paper?"

Arching a brow at him briefly, she nodded and heaved hers to tear off another one for him. Offering him a pencil as well, which he accepted with a smile.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of calluses on his palm and index finger. From a gun, she concluded.

"You draw, too?" she asked then, adjusting the thick beanie on her head before glancing back down to her drawing pad.

"Hardly. But figured I could pick it up again instead of sitting here idle," he explained with a small shrug and started doodling. "Don't expect anything grand though."

she laughed under her breath. "Neither should you."

They grew quiet with only their scribbling pencils and the passing cars down on the street audible. Until Taehyung took out his phone and a mellow jazz song began accompanying them instead. And Cassandra stole a glance at him.

Over the course of the past three months, he'd tended to stop by in between of breaks from heists. He said it was because he loved the city and perhaps that was true. But she couldn't help and secretly hope it was partially for her, too.

He was still somewhat a stranger in some aspects. And a friend in others. One of these friends you only met once in awhile and yet, it didn't feel weird or awkward. Making her wonder if she would also still get along like this with her actual old friends from highschool and medical school.

And in an odd way, Taehyung felt the same strange familiarity with the young doctor. Cassandra was like a childhood friend.

When he was with her, he didn't feel like an internationally wanted thief, but rather like a normal and perhaps even good person.

She made him forget about what he was when being away from her. And in some naive way he wanted to cling onto that, for as long as possible at least.

After all, they had barely known each other and yet, while spending afternoons together just strolling around, it felt always easy. Effortlessly. At some point they'd even reached the beach, only then realising how they'd had walked up all the way there without noticing. They could always talk about anything and have fun.

Cassandra didn't know she wasn't the only one finding comfort in that.

Much to her dismay, however, they couldn't talk about everything as Taehyung would never tell her any stories from his heists with Jimin and Yoongi.

He lied that it'd be a thief's codex not to speak with an outsider about it, when in reality he simply didn't want her to judge or be scared of him.

He had this justified paranoia that a woman like her wouldn't want to have anything to do with someone like him if she knew any details. After all, he still couldn't fathom the fact she hadn't already run away from the very beginning when knowing what he was.

And besides, him not letting her in on his criminal life would be better in any case. For both of them.

"May I ask something?" she spoke up then, after tucking a coppery curl behind her ear that had gone astry by the breeze high up there. Hearing him hum, she gathered her courage and proceeded. "How did you become a thief? I mean.. did you wake up one day and thought 'yep, that's what I wanna do'?"

It was something she'd always wondered but never dared to mention. However, the sight of his hand reminded her of it again. So she decided to attempt coaxing some info out of him at least. Anything.

Cassandra's unapologetic curiosity made Taehyung burst out laughing, genuinely entertained by her. However, she mistook it for mockery and only pouted.

"Don't tell me if you don't want to. But stop making fun of me," she mumbled awkwardly.

He quickly shook his head, though, stifling another bubbling chuckle. "No, no. It's alright. I don't mind. Just didn't expect that sudden question."

She only hmpf-ed, focusing on her sketch. "So?"

"Well.." he began then scratching his head while contemplating how to explain it, "It's definitely not that I woke up one day and decided to be one. It just.. happened."

Cassandra only shot him a funny look. "Like.. you just tripped and fell into it?"

Wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes again and he bit back another chuckle. Getting the reference.

The cold wind picked up anew, tousling his hair and making Cassandra's body grow stiff for a moment.

"Kinda.. remember Jimin?"

"Of course," she nodded, "How could I forget that cute face."

"Cute face, huh?" he huffed out a laugh, "Don't let him hear that, his ego is already out of proportion."

She giggled, nodding. "Noted. So, what's with him?"

Taehyung sighed into the wind. His pencil pausing for a brief second. "It is a long story.."

"We got time," she shrugged, erasing a part and sketching it again, "But if you don't wanna.."

"I mean.. it's not easy to explain." He lowered the volume of his phone then. "I mean, why did you decide to be a physician?"

"Oh."

She glanced up at him, seeing his mischievious grin which caused her to huff out amused.

So that was how he wanted to play.

"In my case it wasn't anything special, though," she shrugged and went back to her drawing, "I like helping people and I love biology. And I'm interested in how things work. How these different organs and cells interact together." A small smile formed on her lips as the pencil glided over the thick piece of paper. "Between all the subjects and things that interested me, this was the one holding more meaning to me, you know? So yeah.. That was my reason. Nothing too special, really."

Taehyung observed her with a fond smile, finding her reason rather noble than as simple as she made it sound. Returning to his doodles then.

"Not the money or prestige?" he teased then, making her scoff in fake-offence.

"Please, if I wanted just money and prestige I could've studied economics or finances or something like that. Would've been way easier than all the nights studying anatomy and metabolic deseases. Believe me."

He hummed amused.

Of course he knew there was a big portion of doctors doing it for the wrong reasons, but he'd never believed her belonging to them. She just didn't strike him as such a superficial person, even if his analysing skills weren't as advanced as Jimin's, he believed that he reckoned up her character pretty well at least. And he was glad he was proven right.

The setting sun bathed everything in a sepia light. The atmosphere warm and bright despite the crisp temperature.

Although the anew dark clouds nearing from the south did concern her.

"Now it's your turn," she smirked and looked up to the afternoon view to catch more details. Planning to engrave the golden colours of the atmosphere into her memory to add them at home.

Taehyung hummed, scratching his neck with the back of the pencil while contemplating. "Well, for you to understand I have to explain my upbringing I guess," he exhaled almost in defeat then and sat back. Allowing his eyes to wander over the grey rooftops. "My earliest memories consist of a skyscraper in Mumbai, where my father brought me along to a meeting with a 'client'. I was only five back then." He paused, chewing the inside of his cheek as he chose his next words. "My dad.. he did business with shady people, so you could say the apple never falls far from the tree." A hollow laugh left his lips at the irony and he drew an abstract cartoon face. "Hence why he also taught me how to shoot a gun from an early age. I still remember when he did for the first time."

Cassandra only nodded, listening intently. She wanted to allow him opening up fully. "So it's save to assume you must be pretty good with a gun," she said instead.

Her assumptions proven correctly when she saw him nod, sighing.

"Don't wanna brag, but I'm a pretty good marksman. Yeah." His gaze fell.

It wasn't like he ever felt exceptionally proud of his remarkable skills, in fact, he was always quite indifferent about them. However, telling her about them now made an unusual nervousness rise inside him. Fearing her judgement.

"Anyway," he composed himself then, "So you can say my dad wasn't necessarily father of the year, but besides teaching me how to shoot and taking me along to business trips, he was alright and took care of me. But since we travelled and moved a lot and I never got to stay at a place for too long. Which kinda sucked."

A scowl crossed her featured. "Oh, what about school or friends?"

"I had to constantly change schools and always had to leave the friends I found behind."

"That sounds.. hard," she sighed, giving him a look of empathy.

And he nodded as an old Sinatra classic began playing, distracting him for a moment. He ran his hand through his messy waves then. "Yeah.. but it didn't last for too long, so it's okay. Really. When I turned thirteen my dad left me at my grandparents and disappeared, so.. I was able attending school frequently after all."

At this, Cassandra perked up again. Brows furrowed in confusion how he brushed over that grave information so easily. "W-what? He disappeared?"

Taehyung only shrugged nonchalantly. Masking the still lingering hurt and confusion. "Y-yeah.. The only thing I have left of him is his Magnum. He gave it to me before leaving. And I still have it, carrying it around wherever I go."

He knew that he didn't have to tell her all this, but he felt like doing it anyway. Although it wasn't something he talked about often. Or ever.

The only people who knew were his two closest and only friends, and perhaps Seokjin and his interpol agents if they had done their work correctly. However, he hoped that knowing his backstory would at least help her understand it better. And perhaps prevent her from judging him too much.

But Cassandra wasn't judging him. Rather the opposite.

She folded her lips at this, quietly processing his words. And all of a sudden a deep sadness spread inside her instead. The quiet background music coming from his phone emphasising the lingering heaviness.

Obviously she'd already assumed that his life and upbringing most likely hadn't been all sunshine and rainbows - whose really were anyway - but she hadn't expected it to be so sombre. Despite him trying brushing it off and not dissembling it. She could still tell it was a baggage he carried with him by the dullness clouding his usually bright eyes.

"Mh, it's a memento of your father," she concluded then with a nod, more to herself than him. "And that's why you became a thief?"

"No, not really. But it's what pathed the way for me, I guess," he snickered. The laugh not reaching his eyes. And her lips parted but before she could say anything more, he continued. "What eventually made me a thief was when I met Jimin, the most annoying, insufferable and sly skirt chaser at school," he sighed, chuckling under his breath. It was genuine amusement this time. "But he was also the most loyal and reliable friend I ever had."

At this, Cassandra couldn't help but coo, averting her focus from her sketch to look at him with crescent-shaped eyes. "You two are childhood friends, that's so lovely."

Taehyung smiled at her reaction. Finding it unexpected but also endearing. "Yeah, we were school friends. But not right from the start. To me he was just a rebellious and entitled lil' rich brat, a real trouble-maker. I preferred hanging out with the other kids or staying by myself."

She could tell he was holding back a nostalgic laugh and she smiled. "Sounds like a handful," she agreed, "But you still ended up becoming friends."

He scoffed, folding his arms. "I was kinda forced, to be honest. He saw me having a gun one day and then dragged us into a shootout all because he was into that woman - who was at least ten years older than us, mind you." Now getting genuinely upset when recalling the incident at the bar two 13-year-olds didn't have any business to be at. Adding with a frustrated breath, "This idiot never thinks when he sees a pretty girl and the rest of us have to carry the can for it." He shook his head then. "Anyway, I ended up becoming friends with him. We hung up and since thievery ran in Jimin's blood - it was literally his family-business - he began being on the fiddle. And I ended up helping him. And as we grew older it went from robbing liquor to banks to museums and art galleries to.. well, to actual treasures around the world. And on the way, we met Yoongi who joined us. That's the story, I guess."

Cassandra breathed out an astonished "wow", eyes gaping at him in a short silence. "That's.. an intense story," a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, "Are you sure you didn't steal that from a film plot?"

He laughed as well, looking down at his three caricatures. "I wished."

The dark blanket of clouds she had noticed earlier had come threateningly closer by now. Covering the right side of the sky completely, while the rest also had a fair amount of smaller, lighter clouds. Still not enough to completely cover it there, though, leaving enough space for the colorful sky to peak through when a more upbeat song began playing.

"You know, it's kinda funny," Cassandra said then, making him perk up. He noticed her lips curled into a small ambiguous smile. Eyes resting on the skyline before going back to her drawing. "We're so different, you and me. But our upbringings still ended up having some similarities."

He was intrigued by this. "Like what?"

She picked another pencil, a thicker one compared to the one she had sketched the buildings in. "My parents are nature photographers, you know, always been travelling around the world. Still do. I barely see them, only when they visit me once every one or two months. And back in the days, they'd take me with them to all the far places," she explained," My earliest memories are of myself chasing pigeons on the Plaza de la Catedral in Havana when I was merely four years old. I remember it vividly. It was a lively, colourful place. I'd like to revisit one day." The ambiguousness in her expression now replaced with nostalgia. "And then when I was old enough to attend school, they left me with my grandparents. Just like you, I grew up with them and suddenly I had something like a stable life. But my parents would still take me with them during holidays, so I still got to travel."

Perhaps that was why to this day, something inside her remained unsettled so she took any chance she got to travel somewhere. Whether it was during her medical internships or for vacations.

The two exchanged a look, holding each other's gaze with a smile of mutual understanding.

The similarity of their childhoods consisting of constant travelling with no real sense of 'home' up until a certain age, was comforting in a way. Although their circumstances being clearly unlike, to know there was someone else with similar experience and upbringings was maybe what really bonded them in the end, despite living so vastly different lives.

They continued sketching in a comfortable silence then. 

The sun neared the mountains in the distance and the golden hue of the atmosphere soon became darker. The clouds which had now covered most of the sky above them, reflecting the disappearing sun's orangy gleam. Bright, fluffy clouds on their right contrasting dark heavy ones on their left. The sky looking like straight out of the renaissance paintings in a museum. And both stared at it in awe.

Cassandra took another paper out and began a new sketch. Hatching harsher shadows on the buildings and clouds. Trying her best to capture the dramatic picturesque view in front of her. And Taehyung observed her silently, admiring the pure concentration in her face.

Soon the darker ones absorbed more of the yellow sky in their purple shades. The sun hidden by now. Only the smaller becoming gleam behind the buildings letting them assume where it was- With pink cotton candy clouds in the far north contrasting the shades of blue around them. Only half an hour later, the sun had set completely. Leaving the buildings standing dark against the still dimly coloured sky. 

Another brisk breeze passed by then and she shivered, causing her tho almost smudge the sketch.

"Are you cold?" Taehyung wondered out loud, making her frown.

"Of course. Aren't you?"

He shrugged, shoving his hands into his coat's pockets. Not because he was cold but out of habit. "Not really, no."

"You may not feel it, but your body might become hypothermic if you're not careful."

He hummed.

"You should definitely dress warmer. Put on a scarf of something."

"Is that a doctor's advice?" he smirked and she puffed out a laugh.

"It's actually a doctor's order."

"Oh, is that so?" His brows rose. Finding her lecturing tone quite amusing as it was contrasting her otherwise gentle and bubbly demeanor. "I should follow it then."

She knew he wasn't taking her serious, but she had done her duty and warned him. It was up to him if he listened or not.

"I like this song," she said then, motioning with her chin to his phone. His brows rose as his gaze fell on it. 'Unforgettable' by Nat Kind Cole was playing. And he couldn't help but beam at her. "So do I."

A tiny waterdrop landed on the back of her hand then. And another one. She looked up, seeing the purple clouds now hanging low above them. Stretching all the way to the pastel pink coloured north side. Another waterdrop landed on her cheek and she realised those weren't normal waterdrops but actual raindrops.

Taehyung had also noticed them, holding the palm of his hand against them. "I think it's raining again."

As soon as he said that, more and more drops fell abruptly from the sky and Cassandra cursed under her breath. Quickly packing up and shoving everything into her backpack. And they hurried inside, following the stairs back downstairs.

They could hear the rain picking up on volume, pattering loudly against the glass of the skylight and the windows.

The stairs led them to the house's main living room, which despite the large picture window that formed a gallery onto the rain-covered main street, was left in an eery atmosphere due to the lack of light. The huge oak doors and the wavy ceiling only adding to this.

Cassandra sat down on the floor in front of the gallery window taking off her beanie. A sigh escaping her lips when seeing the rain pouring down harsher, becoming more violent. Turning into a downright cloudburst. "And I was thinking about taking my umbrella with me, but of course I didn't.."

"I bet it's just another short downpour, it'll be over soon," Taehyung said, taking a seat next to her and resting his arms on his angled legs. He motioned to her backback then. "Are your drawings okay?"

Her eyes grew wide, only now remembering them. She zipped open her backpack, taking out her drawing pad and flipping threw the pages. They seemed alright, no wavy edges, no blurred or dissorted lines. And she sighed in relief. "Yeah, they seem fine."

Suddenly the pad was tucked out of her grip and she watched Taehyung's eyes intently browsing over them as well. His brows knitting lightly, making her wonder what he was thinking about.

"You said not to expect much, but these are incredible," he said then with a straight face, handing her the pad back. Cassandra blinked, hesitatedly accepting it and stuffing it back into her bag.

"I mean.. they were rather casually drawn.. but thanks," she mumbled, not really taking the compliment serious. Knowing they weren't her best works considering their rushed nature and it'd been awhile since she'd last drawn.

Taehyung only eyed her for a moment and shrugged, resting his gaze on the streams of water flowing down the gallery window in front of them. "Sure, but you still captured the atmosphere and contrasts well. I like them."

At this she bit back a genuine smile.

"Oh, well thank you then." She playfully nudged his arm with a wiggle in her brows. "Didn't know you were such an 'art connoisseur'."

He laughed under his breath, sensing she only wanted to distract from the blush on her cheeks. And he let her.

"You know, we've not only stolen jeweles and artefacts. Sometimes we steal paintings, too. Some knowledge must've brushed off on me."

Nodding, she hummed. Eyes joining his in watching the heavy growing rain outside. "What paintings did you steal?"

"Some Manet's, some Rembrandt's, an El Greco.." he mused, "You know, all these portraits they've painted made me realise one thing.."

Intrigued, she peeked at him. "And what?"

He faced her with a lopsided grin. "That I'd like having one myself. Like one of these sleazy rich guys. To put it over my fireplace or something."

Cassandra couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Do you even have a fireplace?"

His grin widened. "I don't even have my own house," he said, laughing along with her now over his own absurdity, "But one day, one day I will."

And they sat there shoulder to shoulder, watching the storm pass by. For a brief second he thought about taking his phone out again before deciding against it. Somehow preferring listening to the pit-a-pat of the rain instead.

»»»

next chapter: 0.3 here

Don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame

[osarina]

Hellooo,

So, it's not really a request, just kinda? Idk, i just want to share this little idea with you and you can do with this anything you want!!

So reader and adazai are dating for a while rn and they are happy and all and dazai decides that he wants to propose reader. He has the ring and all planned out. But before he could, reader is sent to a mission and dazai be like: "okay, i'm gonna wait til she is back."

The only problem is that she isn't back in a good shape :') Something went wrong on the mission, there were stronger ppl than reader and the ada obviously didn't know abt it (let's just say that ranpo didn't know abt it too for the plot, okay? :')) and they all freak out and everything. Reader is sent to a hospital (yes, yosano's ability doesn't work on her. No i don't know why and how. It's just ✨plot amour✨)

But anyway, reader gets better and wakes up from her coma. But! She lost her memory. So when she finally wakes up and dazai is holding her hand while half asleep and the others are here too and when they notice that she is awake she just be like: "Huh??? Who are you all??"

And dazai of course heartbroken. The love of his live, his reason to live, his soon-to-be fincée doesn't remember him?? That's the end of the world. But ofc he doesn't show it that his world crumbled over, instead he tries to win over reader's heart again. And it's all fluffy through reader's recovery. Ooooo and i have this very very very cute scene in front of me.

Imagine: Dazai and reader are sitting on a rooftop, it's after some time when reader finally remembers her name, age, family, job etc (expect dazai, we love angst :p) so the basic things and there's a moment when she says that: "My mind may not remember you, but my heart could never forget."

And it's just shows that how domestic are they really that even if tragedies try to force them away from each other, their heart, their soul will always find the way back bc you only find true love once. And the right person (or people) will always came to you (i'm delulu.)

But let's not forget abt dazai and his self-blaming tendencies. My man here would be so crushed that he couldn't save his beloved. So maybe, at first, he wouldn't try to make remember their relationship. After all, if the only person he loved romentically forgets about him then that must be fate, no? A reminder that he doesn't qualified to be called human, so ofc he shouldn't enjoy such a human things as love. That he should cherish the time that you two spent together but should never reach out for you. After all, he might get his dirt on your freshly started new life. And he also wasn't sure that you would even want him with all his mistakes, inperfections and that ugly, broken soul of him.

So i think reader has to make some moves first too. Just from instinct. Bc loving him is like a second nature to her. But aftet reader defeats dazai's self-sabotaging attempts, the cutesy recovery would start <33

OH MY GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. Someone should check this out bc my love for him is starting to get a little unhealthy 💀

Anywayyyy i wish you the loveliest, most beautiful day ever bc you deserve it. And again, feel free to ignore this rant, no pressure <333 i'm just so down bad for him, ughhh. I want to squeeze him so bad <33

Also, if it's not a big problem, can i be 🍄 anon? If it's taken then 🎶 anon?

Much, much love!!!

(Pls ignore the spelling and grammar mistakes, i'm running on 4 hours of sleep each day this week and english is my 2nd language)

AHHHHHHHH NONNIE UR SO IN MY BRAIN I'VE BEEN DYING TO WRITE AN AMNESIA FIC FOR DAZAI. the way i was going about it, i was thinking maybe we could do an ability user that targets reader and their ability causes reader to completely lose memory of the most important person in their life ... except this was going to be set pre-relationship but they were both sooooo clearly in love with each other but neither wanted to make the first move. so reader would come into work like usual and nothing seems wrong until she sees dazai and she's like ??? who are you and dazai is just CRUSHED and the whole fic is set around him trying to hunt down this ability user to make reader's memories come back but it's like they've vanished off the face of earth. eventually he comes back to the office when he gives up because he literally CAN'T find this ability user and then we follow reader re-falling in love w dazai and dazai self sabotaging because he's dazai

I WISH YOU THE MOST LOVELY BEAUTIFUL DAY EVER NONNIE I ADORE YOU

[morallysuperiorlips]

Let's Talk About ✨ANGST✨!

What is ✨angst✨?

The Google machine describes ✨angst✨ as a feeling of deep anxiety or dread, typically an unfocused one about the human condition or the state of the world in general.

The world of fanfiction/writing also uses it to describe stories that air on the side of sad/serious/more dramatic tones, themes, etc.

But morallysuperior, how do I write that sort of thing? Where do I even start?

Well, dear writer, it might seem daunting but this is VERY easy to break down.

There are a whole bunch of subgenres of ✨angst✨: hurt/comfort, trauma unearthed, working through loss, dealing with new traumas, etc. But, from my years of studying writing and writing words upon words of shitty fic and chipping away at my WIP, this is what I’ve deduced. All forms of ✨angst✨ fall into one of two categories:

Character-Driven ✨Angst✨ and Character Relationship-Driven ✨Angst✨.

From there, each of those categories can branch off into two slightly more specific but still pretty all-encompassing categories.

Character-Driven ✨Angst✨

Mental: Focus on your character hitting a low. Maybe their deepest fears have just been unearthed. Maybe somebody or something triggered a past trauma. Maybe something about their environment has left them in a terrible place.

Physical: Focus on your character getting hurt. Who hurt them? Why were they hurt? How badly were they hurt? What do they think about as they’re getting hurt? Is it something they can really recover from?

Character Relationship-Driven ✨Angst✨

Mental: Focus on the character’s relationship(s) hitting a low. Did they have a substantial disagreement that may or may not have unearthed some trauma? A miscommunication that resulted in a blowout fight? Do they have to separate for some reason, whether bad or good? How are their bonds being tested? What situation are they in that might make them question their relationship?

Physical: Focus on the character’s loved ones getting hurt. How does your character react? Do they do anything to intervene? Can they do anything to intervene? Did they perhaps cause it in some way? What happens after the fact? Can their loved one recover? How does it affect their relationship going forward? (Makes for great hurt/comfort)

Once you kind of identify those general concepts, I think the possibilities are ENDLESS, and you’re welcome to branch off in any direction your twisted mind desires :)

As always, go fucking write something <3

[tornoleander]

I'm in the middle of reading wytyaa cuz I saw you mention it at some point and it sounded cool

Anyway, if wytyaa Jay and bbnb Jay ever met, and you somehow got them to traumadump on eachother, both of them would think "First Master, this guy went through hell. Compared to him I had it easy." Meanwhile neithed had it easy and both went through hell.

Might be wrong cuz I haven't finished wytyaa yet but I'm gonna go back to reading now byeeeeee

Oh I’m going to rant for a while because I love talking about and comparing these Fics.

YES, I can absolutely see both them sitting there and invalidate their own experiences. (Unless one of them gets a very important lesson about comparing Trauma)

Art under cut

Trauma dumping though? Currently I doubt wytyaa Jay would. And while bbnb Jay seems willingly to talk to his therapist there’s not a chance 16 year old him from an alternate universe will learn the extent of the shit I had to read through.

The have similar canon complaint story line, to an extent. Both fix my many issues with Cannon and add so much more. Both deal in forced labor extreme physical abuse blood wounds broken bones Starvation With emotional abuse from Nadakhan’s and the crew. But everything beyond that is where things drastically differ

Biggest difference being Explicit vs Mature

Wytyaa being vaguely 16+ and won’t go past implying anything sexual. So a lot is left to interpretation, which is usually easier to handle.

While Bbnb has be 18+ Does not shy away from anything….. no matter how much you wish it would most popular ninjago dead dove for a reason.

Wytyaa Jay is drugged out for the 2 months he has to deal with the withdrawal and wiped memories coming back to him. This scrambles the order you learn about what he went through. Vengestone sorta poisons him, the power suppression is painful and causes long term damage.

In the end Neither Jay is given a moment to feel safe and comfortable over months they are always in extreme danger this is the sort of damage that turns ptsd into C-ptsd��

Like you said, neither had it easy they both went through hell.

But while comparing trauma is ultimately unhelpful experiences effect people differently both Jays are very traumatized I can tell you one of these was A LOT harder to get through as a reader. VERY much not the same reader experience.

Here’s are the fics with the obligatory READ THE TAGS and warnings at the top of each chapter. They are there for your safety when r themes of sa can be helpful and hurtful to some. Know what you can handle..

When you think your all alone by @mondothebombo

Bending but never breaking by @writing-hat

Both authors are awesome and have read each other Fics lmao.

Never posted this but a long while ago when both fics left off on angst for a long time I messaged them the same thing and got these replies.

The Audacity of hat to blame mondo lol.

If any of you like these fics follow me cause I have a lot of art coming. Also if you have any asks don’t be shy! I could rant for so much longer.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hello, could I request a Morpheus x reader, where reader is an immortal like Hob and has been friends with Dream( and has helped him through some trouble from time to time) but through the years reader developed feelings for dream (but he doesn't know that) but can't confess (thinking they are not good enough for him) and just watch helplessly as Dream falls in love for every other being, until one day this recent lover of his was only using him to gain power, reader found out about it and confronted them (and was about to have a smackdown), until dream intervined and fought with reader. Reader tried to warn him but he didn't listen and banished reader from the dreaming, before reader leaves the dreaming for good she finally confessed to dream and was out of sight.

Soon after, Dream realized that reader was right and tried to find them and found them living with Hob (as best friends), confronted reader, they talked (realization of feelings ensues)and they got together.

Angst and fluff please, I recently read your Morpheus fic I love the subtlety and gentle showing of affection, I'm sorry also that this message is so long. Have a great day/night ✨

A/N: misread it and wrote an ending where the Corinthian tries to shoot his shot but I fixed it and all is well in the end!! The thought is still there tho

"Snooping" - Morpheus x Immortal!Reader

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.1k Sandman-inspired playlist

London, autumn of 1763

Attending a ball at your love's fiancee's home sounds like a black comedy theatre play until it becomes reality - a reality you had, unfortunately, found yourself in. To make the matter slightly worse, Morpheus was indirectly the reason for throwing the party in the first place: one of his nightmares escaped and the current plan was to lure them into a closed space and then catch or whatever it was Morpheus had in store for them. Truthfully, you felt better not knowing exactly what he was going to do with the escapee. Sometimes ignorance truly is bliss.

In a funny way, Morpheus treated you like a god - came to you only when he needed something but you never minded that. He was great company, always making your endless life a little more exciting as days turned into bland centuries. As a word of explanation, it should be said that through "exciting" you should understand "with consequences possibly detrimental to all of humanity". And that one fateful ball wasn't anything else:

It was fairly recently that Morpheus had learned about one of his nightmares going rogue and leaving Dreaming on their own accord. His biggest concern seemed to be the fact that no one could tell him even approximately how long the nightmare had been gone. That, in turn, suggested the existence of a whole different can of worms - it was possible to leave Dreaming without his knowledge. No one's knowledge, for that matter. There was no way Morpheus could even guess the extent of the damage his own creation had caused in the Waking World, which was partially why he was all the more unnerved that night. His patience wasn't limited, it was completely gone. As much as you disliked his tense attitude, you had to admit that his sense of responsibility was to be applauded. He had to be a good king...

"Are you sure about this?" you asked him as you inconspicuously looked around the hall. The problem with nightmares, dreams and Morpheus himself was that all of them generally looked like humans. It was impossible to just vaguely look around and point at the right person. Additionally, the more time the wanted nightmare had spent in the Waking World, the more seamlessly assimilated he'd become, making it virtually impossible to tell them apart from the regular crowd unless they had a characteristic trait in their appearance that could hardly be hidden.

"Do you not trust me?"

"You're a few centuries and near-death experiences too late to be asking this. I'm just not very fond of a rogue nightmare going berserk at a banquet for so many important people or us getting into a brawl with the wrong person. This can end in an international disaster."

"Which is why we have to be thorough and quick."

Morpheus had gotten you into many more dangerous larks throughout the years but weirdly enough, it wasn't something one could simply get used to - each adventure was filled with so much supernatural it could hardly be considered anything else than a fever dream. No matter how much you've talked to him, his domain remained a great mystery to you and so did all things connected with it. Perhaps, that was part of his charm.

"Lady Ruth and I will look on this floor. You have to go upstairs."

"You want me to do some snooping?" you said with a small grin on your face. His expression remained unmoved - your continuous effort at making him use slang wasn't amusing. "Sleuthing?"

"Infiltrate."

"One day I'll get you to say 'snooping'."

"I will not."

"We have a lot of time." Morpheus sighed at your words and was about to leave your side to join Ruth who was chatting with some of her guests but you grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to stop him for a moment. His face looked strict when he looked at you but he was far from reprimanding you. "Just be safe, alright?"

"You need not worry about me."

You let go of his jacket and Morpheus marched away to play the greatly inconspicuous role of a loving fiance. His arm shamelessly wrapped around her waist and had she not been the lady of the house, guests surely would have pointed out the social faux pas. Ruth, however, remained no less affectionate and leaned her head against him. It's vital to notice that Morpheus was not an affectionate man in any way and so such a show of intimacy felt even more serious. He stood there, among the Kingdom's elite and looked like he was in the right place: similar clothes, proud poise and seriousness characteristic of people who had a little too much to lose. The fact that he fit right in was a low blow to you, mainly because you knew you didn't. Morpheus and you belonged to completely different worlds and there was no point in disputing that. As simple and crude as it may sound, he was just the wrong person at the right time for you. Perhaps, that's all it takes for a disaster.

"Put on your adult shoes and get over with it," you whispered to yourself. The sooner you find the rogue nightmare, the sooner you can leave this place and dwell on your heartache in comfortable and befittingly pathetic loneliness.

Pushing pasts lords, counts and viscounts you made your way up the stairs. Thankfully, the string orchestra was loud enough to deafen the creaking of the wooden contraption. It was one of those rare occasions where not fitting in was a blessing in disguise - no one was paying attention to you. Should anyone ask about you, most of the guests would simply shake their heads in confusion. Being invisible was something you had grown quite used to.

Most of the rooms on the first floor were locked but it could hardly be surprising - Ruth didn't want guests wandering around her house. Despite the mild disappointment at your detective work being cut short, you were thankful that you didn't have to waste your time and possibly let the nightmare escape. Trying each pair of doors, you had finally found one that opened but what you saw inside was nowhere near your expectations.

"What in God's name is this madness?" you said to yourself as you looked around the room.

Quite obviously, there was no nightmare in sight but another horror had welcomed you. There was a giant map of the world with certain locations marked in red paint. Next to those circles were pinned articles and charcoal drawings of people you didn't recognize. In front of the map was a table littered with random items and an open leatherbound notebook.

Skimming through the book, you found yourself strapped for words. It was something like a diary but with notes on Morpheus, his habits, people he knows and every instance the author watched him use his powers. Granted, their analysis was quite thorough and proved the maniac an intelligent person.

"Wait a goddamn minute," you whispered to yourself. Reading again through the witness 'miracles' Morpheus had committed made you feel like they had something in common. Some of them you had seen yourself and if your memory wasn't failing you, there was a third person present during those events. "Ruth..."

Hurriedly, you went through the rest of the notebook, still in disbelief at your discovery. It felt almost too out of character for the Ruth you knew to do something like this. Maybe that's why her scheme had gone undetected for so long... To your own horror and utter disgust, she had even prepared notes on you:

"Sceptical. Convince Morpheus first?" "Difficult to intimidate. Try coddling up to them." "Follows him around when they're together. Friends or unrequited love?"

"Oh my, you shouldn't be here, dear." Ruth's voice made you turn around in panic. It was like a scene from a thrilling book where the hero finally stands face-to-face with the villain. Unfortunately for you, good authors rarely make such confrontations beneficial for the protagonist. "I must have forgotten to lock this room beforehand. Come on, the mare is surely not hiding in here."

"Have you ever wondered what's going to happen when he finds out?" you asked. You could feel your whole body becoming instantly warm as blood boiled in your veins. For the first time since you've met her, Ruth's stereotypical lady-like attitude irritated you beyond comprehension: you knew it was just a sleazy facade. "Because he's not stupid, although plays that role very well, I admit. If you want this masquerade to fly, I'd suggest you already start working on a sobby explanation."

"Whatever do you mean, my dear?" she continued playing her role.

"Oh, drop this facade, Ruth. You and I both know your relationship with Morpheus is only transactional even if he doesn't know about that."

"You know nothing about it either." It was strange to hear her speak naturally and not in a pretend damsel in distress voice. "It's not like you have proof, do you? Those notes?" She vaguely pointed at the desk behind you. "Well, perhaps his fiancee has missed him dearly and wanted to know if she can contact him more often."

"Do you honestly think he's going to believe that?"

"Think about this yourself. Would the great Morpheus, king of Dreaming believe his soon-to-be-wife or a less-than-presentable circumstantial acquaintance who has been pining for him for centuries? What, did you think you're hiding your affections well? A blind fool could tell you love him and luckily for me, he's worse than that. Perhaps it's better for you that you've never told him. You've spared yourself utter humiliation."

You didn't quite know what Devil had possessed you but you suddenly found yourself smashing Ruth against the wall. Your fingers were digging into the expensive material of her dress, making the material stretch out and crumple. Instead of a grimace or a wince, a grin appeared on her face. You were playing right into her game.

"Did I strike a nerve? Good. Tell me, what do you bring to the table? Centuries of moping?"

"I don't give a damn why or for what you're trying to use him, you tasteless wench" you were gritting through your teeth with a mere inch separating your faces, "but be sure I will make him see you for what you really are. You worthless, lit-"

"Hold your tongue. I have seen enough."

You whipped your head around only to see Morpheus's brooding physique. His normally expressionless face was now reeking of contempt with the way his cheeks were raised.

"Oh, love! Thank the Lord you've come!" Ruth exclaimed as she got out from your clutches and run towards Morpheus. In an irritatingly protective manner, he quickly pushed her behind himself. "They threw themself on me, accusing me of all sorts of wickedness. Jealousy has made them into a monster! Yes, jealousy, my love. They've told me of their affections themself!"

"You... I have considered you a friend but you're just a treacherous beast."

"You can't be serious about this, Morpheus! Just look around!" You made a vague circular move with your arms. "It's a whole dossier on you and your power. Not something a loving wife-to-be does in her downtime, is it?" You stepped closer to him but Morpheus only further pushed Ruth behind him. "Come on, you know me like no one else. I've never lied to you, never had a reason to."

"I will hear no more of your poisonous words. You have meddled enough in my affairs. If you wish ill will on my future wife, there is no place for you by my side. I shall not see you in Dreaming either."

As much as it hurt, it was the last chance to save an ounce of your dignity and walk away without further driving a wedge between you two. In some way, you had expected that moment to come one day, when Dream has to choose between his royal duties and you. It simply would have been nicer if you had any sort of indication that this fateful day is approaching.

"My heart breaks for you Morpheus, for how blind love has made you. How you'd rather set the world aflame before a blemish fell on the one you love. I understand it. Even your harsh words that I do not deserve can not make me hate you, I can't even bear the thought of holding a grudge against you, Morpheus. Because I understand. Because I'd rather set the world aflame."

"Leave," he gritted through his teeth.

It was the last thing Morpheus has ever said to you - or so you thought.

London, winter of 2023

Hob was kind enough to let you live with him, the two of you bonding over the rollercoaster your lives had become after meeting the King of Dreams. With time, you had grown quite attached to him and ever since leaving Morpheus behind, Hob and you had spent decades pretending to be closely-knit siblings. Somehow, people never quite questioned your lack of similarities.

The inn wasn't in a busy area, so you had become used to rather moderate traffic on a daily basis. Outside of lunchtime, not many people visited the bar but it was just enough to keep the business afloat without raising any suspicions. It was the end of the day, which meant making a list of products you needed to order. Hob had a habit of sitting at a table in the corner, beside the bar counter, while preparing the said list - close enough to you to hear you counting all the ingredients he should order.

You were cleaning the counter as well as checking the shelves and cupboards for any alcohol you were close to running out of. "We're low on spiced Captain Morgan, Hob, so mark that... "your voice hung as you automatically looked towards the entrance upon hearing the bell ring," down," you finished quietly. "What are you doing here, Morpheus?"

He looked different than the day you had met him. Although he was an ageless entity, cursed to live until the end of the universe, Morpheus appeared older but more so mentally than physically. His skin was more grey than simply pale and his eyes appeared more stern and lifeless than ever before. He was wearing a long, heavy black coat - something strikingly different from the embarrassing rococo fashion of the 18th century.

"I have come to make amends," he stated.

You didn't answer right away. For a moment, you simply stared at him, perhaps partially in disbelief that this reunion was actually happening and out of his will. Despite his change in appearance, a certain tactless pragmatism still stuck to him. "You're not even going to ask?"

"Excuse me?"

"Two hundred and sixty years we haven't talked and you show up expecting me to listen and forgive you but you refuse to even ask how I've been?"

"How have you been?" Surprisingly, he didn't show defiance. The past two hundred years really must have changed him.

A scoff of disbelief left your mouth. "Awful, miserable, not good at all but Hob is a lovely person to be around. If you think that saying 'I'm sorry' is going to fix anything, you're so wrong I lack the words to express it."

"Are you angry with me?" He sounded... surprised. Maybe he really did believe that with humans 'time heals wounds'. What an awful saying that was! Time, at best, makes one forget the pain or even the existence of the wound. The scar, however, never forgets the wound it once was and it refuses to disappear simply because its owner hadn't scratched it open in a while.

"I was once. Over two hundred years ago. Now I'm just hurt and disappointed. I thought we trusted each other. Have you ever counted how many times I nearly died while helping you out?"

Morpheus stared at you in silence and you could already tell he did know. He kept count.

"I do not expect you to forgive me, although I do wish for that."

"Believe me, Morpheus, I want that too. But I have suffered enough, don't you think?"

"I was wrong."

"About?"

"About Ruth. You were right and I refused to listen. I was too blind to see through her lies and schemes. I never should have doubted your loyalty and honesty."

"And what does that enlightenment have to do with me?" For someone who explicitly came to apologize, he was very good at avoiding commitment to that resolution.

"I'm... sorry," he spat out. As a king, he wasn't quite used to making apologies but if he so desired to commune with humanity it was high time he learns to.

"I told you that this isn't going to fix anything."

Morpheus sighed heavily as if he knew what he had to do but refused to commit to it all the same. "Snooping," he murmured under his nose.

Your lips curved into a grin. "You really are desperate to be saying that." Truthfully, it was difficult for you to hold back laughter. After so much heartache and lack of closure, that was the one thing Morpheus thought would get you to forgive him. But, maybe, if he was willing to do that one thing he refused to do for many centuries he was honest and truly desired your forgiveness.

For the first time in so long, he looked you in the eye. His normally intense stare was now slightly vacant as if he was still pondering something, weighing out the chances of success of whatever it was he had on mind.

"It was either that or setting the world aflame," he finally said. "Have me back, please."

Did you... hear that right? A complete emptiness took over your mind. You remembered your confession very well as if you had spoken it no earlier than yesterday. Truthfully, you never really thought he would pay it any attention. After all, if he was happily married like you had assumed until today, why would he? Turns out, he must have thought about so many times that not a word of it slipped his mind.

As if taking advantage of your sudden moment of confusion, Morpheus reached out to grab your hand. Once he cradled your palm with his, he placed a chaste kiss on it. His confession was about as honest as an eldritch king can get.

Hob only craned his neck further to get a better look at the two of you. A smile of relief appeared on his face - he had been waiting for that moment ever since he saw Morpheus and you together.

[tu-sugar-mami]

Hi! I'm wondering if you can write how Alcina would react if she found her dobbelgänger? Someone who looks Identical to her and it would probably be one of her maidens. People probably gossip about it too. I want to see Y/N's reaction to it too so like maybe they are together and they see a maiden pass by who looks exactly like Alcina. Lipstick and everything.

(I didn't see any other requests like this so I said why not request this one cause the idea is so interesting)

-Milkie

Hii!! Thank you so much for sending this 🥰 This sounds interesting, yes! I don't think I've read anything like it before and it's an honour you thought of me for this  ✨✨✨ sorry it took me so long, I got carried away and then didn't know how to finish it 😅 although, I don't really know of this is what you had in mind but I went a bit angsty there. Hope you like it! 💖💖

Words: 1800

Tags: angst, a bit of humour, implied feelings, sad stuff, kinds good ending?

_________________________________________

Being Lady Dimitrescu's personal maid is no easy job, especially since the responsibility of bringing her every wish and/or demand could become slightly complicated. There's only so much you can do with your short legs scurrying around in such a grand castle. 

Despite being almost always busy, you do find some time to enjoy a cup or two of that sweet tea you love so much, and love it even more when you share it with your Lady. 

Climbing up the stairs you somehow manage to balance a tray with the needed assortment of ceramics with a teapot full of very hot water on one hand and a quite heavy stack of important documents on the other. Your focus is split between not dropping the platter and reading the stack of papers in your hands trying to find the listing error in the first page (a job usually reserved for one of the daughters) and you find yourself so enthralled by the task that it's only when you reach the hallway that your focus is interrupted by an approaching figure.

Without raising your gaze from the documents, the corner of your eye catches a glimpse of a familiar face. A smile blossoms in your lips at the passing woman, but confusion settles in you. You're sure the Lady is in her study at this time of the day, but you pay it no mind, surely she has a reason to leave her sacred workspace. 

Turning to the left, you ask for a miracle to help you open the door while your hands are occupied. Luckily, being crafty and resourceful was a requirement in the job description, and with a push of your elbow onto the doorknob you enter the Lady's office.

"Oh, there you are. I need those papers transcribed here."

The voice brings you to a halt as your brain catches on. Wait, didn't the Lady just pass by you at the hall? No, surely you're mistaken… 

Quickly turning towards the hall, half of your body peeking out of the still open door, your eyes inspect the now empty hallway in search of an explanation. 

Now that you recall it, the woman in the hallway was strangely at eye level, unlike your Lady, so perhaps she was only a maid you just didn't see correctly.

Well, it's been some stressful days lately, and you suppose your mind is tired. 

Deciding to think nothing of it, you pour the Lady some tea and prepare yourself for the upcoming ache in your hands (the typewriter makes the job easier, but doesn't mean it's less tedious).

It's around late afternoon when you and The Lady find yourselves strolling through the halls in an attempt to dissipate the headache that the stress has caused on the Matriarch. It's also around that late afternoon that you stumble upon her…

A few moments pass by before you do a double take and your hand shoots towards your Lady's skirt in order to stop her from walking away. 

Alcina isn't thrilled, and if it was any other maid she would have already have them paid for their transgression, but as it's almost a custom now, she only rolls her eyes and turns to see what has you so busy that you can't even speak to properly ask her to sto–

As soon as Alcina turns she sees the reason. She sees her.

An exact copy of the great Lady Dimitrescu is busy dusting one of the giant flower pots in the hall.

She is identical, in every way but the height and skin. How did you not notice her before? You're pretty sure you would have seen the close resemblance right away, unless… The daughters are always the ones in charge of 'welcoming' the new batches of maids that come in every month or so, and knowing them, they don't dwell in appearances unless they find one of the morsels to be especially interesting. Perhaps that's why such a sight slipped right by you. 

You wouldn't believe it if the maid wasn't standing right in front of you. 

She had the same high cheekbones and soft jaw as your Lady, that much is evident, but what catches your attention the most is her eyes. That unique and familiar gaze that brings you comfort and reassurance is present in the maid. She looks younger than the Lady for quite a few years, although you wouldn't be able to pinpoint exactly how many apart. Still, the resemblance is unique, more like a copy rather than an offspring. It seems impossible and yet…

You look to your left in a quick movement, ready to go back and forward only wanting to compare and see for yourself that your mind isn't playing tricks on you, but you stop as soon as you notice your Lady's face.

Alcina's expression is a shocked one, more than you've ever seen her bear before, but you notice something else within that stare. Her eyes become slightly teary, but despite your efforts you can't decipher what the meaning of the unshed tears is. 

And of course, you can't possibly know the turmoil that brews inside her. 

Right in front of Alcina stands the woman she once was, or more like the one she could have been. A version of her without her humanity stripped away, without the marks of betrayal and hurt, without the lines of experimentations and pain. In front of Alcina stands the woman she once saw in the mirror, like a cruel joke, in all her human fragility and ignorance. Almost as if the universe had one last way to mess with her and mock her.

Within Alcina aches the desire to touch, to feel, to have a close glimpse of what she was before, and yet the unspoken fear of the mirage before her disappearing keeps her hand grounded, and with it her body stays unmoving.

The Lady hears, among other drowning sounds, the judging whispers surrounding you three in the hall. Words from the maids that have huddled up at the corner, watching with harpy eyes the scene unfolding in their unwelcome presence. 

For the first time in years, perhaps decades, Alcina Dimitrescu is at a loss of words. She would have never thought that an image of herself would make her feel so vulnerable, so threatened. And perhaps also for the first time, the powerful Matriarch feels…powerless.

Until your touch on her gloved hand brings her back from her stupor, that is, effectively stopping her from spiraling any further. Your hand, tiny in comparison to hers, is the anchor she needs right now. 

Alcina turns to you, and what she finds in your eyes as you look up at her is nothing but pure adoration, as if you have already decided that she is perfect just as she is right now. Almost as if you've just chosen her out of the other more humane and better versions of herself in front of you and the ones to ever exist. The love and affection that had been so obvious to her before but you always put effort in keeping hidden is now shining through, unstopped and undimmed, and Alcina's unbeating heart for a moment feels full of life again.

 

With your hand now in her gentle grasp, she feels like she can breathe again, and with the newfound strength she dares to invite the maid for a chat over tea.

When the moon is already starting to show her presence above in the skies, after some surprisingly nice talk, something across the coffee table catches Alcina's attention.

Alcina only needs to see the mischievous grin on your lips once to feel another incoming headache. You've been her maid for five years already for goodness' sake, she already knows exactly what you're thinking…

…

…..

The Lady doesn't know how you managed to convince her to do this, but she's waiting with you hidden behind a stone pillar just after summoning her daughters 'urgently'. 

It's not long before three buzzing swarms approach, but instead of her mother waiting they find a woman facing away from them sitting on their mother's usual chair. 

Daniela confusedly sniffs the air, and she finds that her mom's perfume comes from the same direction as the woman, but she can also smell the blood pumping and a heart beating. 

"Who are you?" The youngest asks with her hand already reaching for her sickle. 

"Ah, my daughters! I didn't see you there, lovelies." The maid greets with a higher pitch voice, before turning to the girls. You have to give her some credit, it would be impossible for you to not laugh if you were in her place. "Come here my girls, mama has missed you." 

"Mother!?" Bela and Cassandra ask in unison. Her eyes are wide and they're switching their gaze from the woman to each other. 

Behind the pillar you watch the scene unfold, and your Lady's hand soon covers your mouth to prevent you from letting out a chuckle, although when you look up you can see an amused smile on her lips. 

"What happened?" Daniela asks, gesturing wildly at the woman's body. "You look, good? Less tired maybe, a little tiny bit uh…less um… like this?" She raises her hand above her head and shakes her hand slightly.

"Holy Mother Miranda, is that really you Mama?" Cassandra asks, slowly approaching the maid. 

Alcina lets out a silent chuckle and with a stealth you didn't know her capable of, sneaks behind Daniela, the closest daughter.

"She is most certainly not, darling." 

Not unlike a cat, Daniela screams and jumps almost two meters before dissipating in a cloud of flies, before reforming next to Cassandra, her hand pleases over her chest, and if her heart could still beat it would be frantically hammering against her ribcage.

"Holy sh-"

"Daniela, language!" Bela nudges her sister with her shoulder. 

Your laugh resonates in the room, and Alcina briefly looks at you, her eyes as soft as her smile, before returning to the girls. 

"I can't believe they really fell for it." You walk towards the maid and put a relaxed hand on her shoulder. "Sorry we made you do this, let's go get some lemonade girl, you look a bit pale."

After you leave with the maid in tow, Alcina takes her rightful seat and pours herself a cup of wine.

"How come no one bothered to let me know of this guest? I should hope next time you do take time to greet every new maid properly, girls."  

"We will, Mother." Bela says, taking a step forward from her sisters. 

"I know you will." Alcina says gesturing away with her hand, and after her beloved daughters leave, she's left again to ponder about how just much she fucked up by accepting Miranda's gift…

_________________________________________

You can find the rest of my stories in AO3 as Lenchisus

You're welcome to leave your request!! 💖✨

If you love my work you can support me on Kofi

https://ko-fi.com/lenchisus

[multifandomhellhole]

Hey I saw you added resident evil!! Out of curiosity I wanted to know how you feel about ships? Specifically:

-aeon

-cleon

-leshley

-serennedy

Sorry if this is weird but seeing that the fandom is kind of... hostile at times I just want to know what you're comfortable with and where you stand before I ask anything!

Hi hi!! No worries I understand haha. I've technically been a part of resident evil for a minute ( I mean I do like creepypasta and at the time internet horror crossed over into horror in general much more frequently so thats how I got exposed lmao) I just never felt the urge to add it or write for it till recently. Also just a heads up I don't do character x character regardless if I like the ship or not ✨ this is strictly x Dom reader

Also hi this is my first real post in almost two years how's it going guys lmao.

-aeon: not a fan. Originally I was open minded but the fans of this ship have been disgusting. In general and in my personal interactions so it killed the ship for me. See the appeal of the tragic one day love at times but one time situationship is not my thing. It's overrated and kind of icky in a different manner to so I rate it 20/100

-cleon also not really my thing. Once again I see the appeal just not into it myself. Fans were more welcoming though so I can enjoy it better. (Still some instigators but not nearly as many). Ultimately I'm indifferent and just like the community lmao. 60/100

-i decided to throw chreon into the mix just cause I know that one exists. Not a whole lot of interaction between the two for me to form an opinion but I can see how it came about. There is an old man yaoi quality to it that is like fine wine. An acquired taste but pretty good. Has a certain level of bitterness that tops it off. 65-70/100

-leshley. My favorite ship so far regarding Leon. Very cute. Very wholesome. Can dip into angst or problematic and what's a ship without controversy. The shippers are sweethearts for the most part. Don't see a lot of them actually but I do know the general view of leshley is not positive for stupid reasons. Love my two pookies 98/100

-serennedy. I see the appeal. Very funny dynamic and a lot of angst. Kind of generic and predictable ngl so not super intrigued by it. Plenty of good artists though and once again the fans are pretty sweet. A little much at times and a few pushy peeps but not too bad. Personally I like ada and Luis more but honestly both good. 75/100

you didn't mention this one but I'd also like to say I love metaltango. It's just a tad above leshley cause who doesn't like enemies to enemies. Plus the artists always cook with something holy and profoundly poetic in ship art. Even the name metaltango solos sorry 100/100

Also for ships I'm not sure exist with Leon I'm putting them down here. I have yet to see a maria x Leon fanbase begin after death Island with her basically sitting on his face, but I rate maria x Leon 100/100 as well. I'd love to see someone create food for it since there was some tension in that fight.

is hunnigan and Leon a ship?? I haven't seen content for that but I assume there's a few fics on ao3. Im personally not a fan of the concept but ultimately I don't have anything bad to say either so 27/100. Need to know more and interact a bit more to give an accurate rating