#rebuilt welcome home au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingofbodyrolls · 8 months ago

Text

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

🐴Chapter summary: Taehyung tries his best to fit in on the ranch, and you and Jimin visit a second hand shop to get decor for your rebuilt ranch. But something happens on the way home that will alter your future together.

🐴Chapter title: Love of Your Life

🐴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: explicit smut in the form of unprotected sex, nipple play, spanking, dirty/sweet talk, multiple orgasms, praise kink, marking, biting, back scratching, hair pulling, crying, rain, like a loooot of rain (yes this is a warning and you will understand later), melancholy, happy tears, promises and confessions.

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 13.3k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

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

🐴Now playing 💿 “All I See” by Kate Voegele. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: welcome to sunshine and rainbows!!!!! Finally! All the angst is gone, and it’s time to bask in all the love and glory ☀️ This was so fun for me to write, I’ve honestly been excited to write this chapter FOR MONTHS. So I’m so happy with it, I love it 😭 I really hope you do too— please let me know 💜

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜

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

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

“Your touch is soft And it makes me tremble In your armsIt feels so right” - ‘Trust the Night’ by Rebecca Lavelle

You gently straddle Jimin’s slumbering figure, leaning close to his ear as you murmur softly, “Jimin, my love, wake up.”

You hear him emit a soft groan beneath you, prompting you to press your needy core against his crotch, causing a shiver to run down his spine as a low, guttural moan escapes his lips.

As he gradually emerges from his slumber, his expression carries a drowsy allure, a mix of exhaustion and irresistible charm. His tousled blonde locks frame his face in disarray, accentuating his soft, almost angelic features. With a gentle flutter, his eyelashes part, revealing the depth of his sleepy gaze, stirring a whirlwind of butterflies within your stomach.

He shifts beneath you, your thighs snugly framing his sturdy body, and he grumbles softly, his voice laced with the remnants of sleep. “What’s wrong, love?” He drawls, his words slow and husky, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

His teeth graze his lower lip, a subtle gesture that sends a surge of desire coursing through you as you feel his dick harden against your folds. You rock against him, craving the delicious friction, and a low groan escapes his lips. Though he’s still tired and not fully awake, his body instinctively responds to your rhythm, his arousal evident despite his drowsiness.

“I want you babe, so bad,” you murmur huskily into his ear, your breath hot against his skin. He chuckles in response, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands.

With a playful smirk, he finally opens his eyes fully, the warmth in them sending shivers down your spine. His hands wander to the curve of your hips, drawing you closer as he teases, “Needy, huh?” His grip tightens, pulling you into him with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

His playful tone dances in the air as he teases, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “You’re not wearing panties?” He asks, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. His gaze drifts lower, down to where your pussy grinds over him, and he grins knowingly. “And you’re already dripping. Did you have a wet dream?” He adds with a suggestive raise of his eyebrow, his voice laced with playful temptation.

You grind down on him again, your voice is high, almost airy and incredibly needy, “I did.” You confess as you drag out the words in the rhythm of your movements as you drag your slick pussy over him, his dick teasing your folds. Each friction sends electric pulses through your body, leaving you yearning for more of him, oh God, you’ll never get enough of his dick.

“Then help yourself,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, as he intertwines his fingers behind his head, accentuating the grace of his muscular frame. Your eyes roam hungrily over his form, captivated by the effortless allure he exudes. With a soft, inviting smile, he reclines on the bed, the epitome of relaxed confidence, beckoning you closer with an inviting gesture. Caught in the magnetic pull of his gaze, you hesitate for a moment, questioning him with wide eyes.

You’re so needy, the lust coursing through your veins like a tidal wave— the memory of your dream, where he took you from behind with your face shoved down into the sheets has left you dripping. With a needy whimper, you realize that he’s serious. He really wants you to just do everything yourself and simply take him like that. Somehow that thought alone makes you even wetter, and you finally begin to move your body, just a bit off him, so you can grab his boxers and slide them down his powerful thighs.

With a throaty chuckle, he watches as you rid him of the garment, tossing it aside with theatrical flair. His laughter fills the room, a symphony of desire harmonizing with your own as you sweep the duvet aside, to make more space for you.

You straddle him once more, a low moan escaping your lips as his unclothed dick comes in contact with your slippery pussy, sending electric tingles through your body. The sensation alone is intoxicating, but you crave more, yearning for the fullness only he can provide. You want all of him lodged deep inside you. Fuck. With a suppressed curse, you bite down on your lip, gradually lifting your body, aligning your throbbing pussy with his dick.

You grab his cock, lowering yourself onto him with tantalizing slowness, a gasp escaping your lips as he stretches you deliciously wide. Each inch of him sliding inside sends shivers of ecstasy coursing through your veins. You love this feeling, being filled like this by him— you can never get enough of it. With each deliberate movement, you moan softly, relishing every moment, wanting to etch it into memory. As you finally cast your gaze upon him, his expression is a portrait of pure bliss, his features sculpted by pleasure. His lips part in silent rapture, his eyes, though almost closed, fixated on you, drinking in every detail, every nuance of your body.

You finally meet his skin at the base, your bodies melding in a primal embrace, taking in every inch of his girthy cock. “Jimin,” you exhale, the name a reverent whisper as you rest your hands upon his chest, seeking stability amidst the whirlwind of sensation. For a heartbeat, you simply remain still, savoring the electric lust between you, and you catch the playful glint in his eyes, a knowing smirk dancing upon his lips.

“You wanted to fuck me, then get to work love and show me what you’ve got,” he teases, his voice dripping with desire and a hint of mischief. He reclines leisurely, every line of his body exuding anticipation, silently urging you to take the lead and unleash your passion upon him.

You groan deeply, a surge of arousal flooding through your core, as you slowly lift your hips and then lower them again, each movement accompanied by a fervent moan. The sensation of him filling you so completely ignites an inferno of pleasure within your depths, leaving you intoxicated with desire.

You establish a deliberate rhythm, each movement a tantalizing dance upon his incredible dick. Jimin’s unwavering gaze follows your every motion, and though you’ve shared such intimate moments countless times, the intensity of his stare sends shivers down your spine, igniting a blush that spreads like wildfire across your skin. Maybe it’s the raw vulnerability of this position or the newfound sense of empowerment that leaves you feeling exposed, but as you surrender to the ecstasy and lust, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Fuck, babe, you look absolutely stunning riding me like this,” he pants, his voice thick with desire. His hands, which had been idly resting behind his head, suddenly find purchase on your hips, fingers digging into the supple flesh with a satisfying slap. “And the way you’re taking me, fuck, it’s like you were made for this,” he groans, his arousal evident in every word.

“Get that shirt off,” he commands, his voice low and urgent, the desire evident in his tone. “I need to see those gorgeous tits of yours.” His hands grip the hem of your nightshirt, which is actually one of his, and he pulls it upward with a hunger that sends shivers down your spine. You’ve taken to wearing his shirts to bed, finding comfort in their familiar scent, a constant reminder of him even when right next to you.

You comply eagerly, crossing your arms and grasping the fabric of the shirt tightly. With a swift motion, you peel it off your body, revealing your breasts, their gentle sway drawing Jimin’s gaze like a magnet. His hands tighten on your ass, his touch electric against your skin as he hungrily takes in the sight before him, a hunger burning in his eyes.

Your hair cascades around your face like a veil as you continue to ride him at a leisurely pace, your breaths coming in shallow gasps, each one laced with anticipation. Despite the blissful sensation washing over you, a primal urge begins to stir within, urging you to quicken your pace, to chase that elusive peak of ecstasy that awaits you.

With a surge of desire coursing through you, you amplify the rhythm of your movements, grinding your hips against his throbbing dick. Yet, despite the primal intensity of the moment, Jimin’s hands rest on your hips without guiding or directing you; you’re in complete control.

God you love this— you enjoy being in control like this, but you equally love it when he just rams himself into you uncontrollably, or when his touch is slow and tender. Fuck, you love it all. It’s the entirety of his essence, the fierce intensity, the tender intimacy, that leaves you utterly enraptured.

You continue to ride him with fervor, each bounce driving you deeper onto his dick until you can feel the delicious pressure of his balls against your ass.

Every sensation is heightened, every movement sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. You arch your back, seeking the perfect angle to hit your g-spot, and when you finally find it, it’s like fireworks exploding behind your eyelids, your entire body alight with the ecstasy of his touch.

As you pant for air and moan, the exertion of maintaining the pace begins to take its toll. You gradually slow down, but compensate by riding him deeper, each thrust driving his cock to graze your sensitive spot with even more intensity.

Your fingers tremble on his chest, a silent plea for him to reciprocate the intensity coursing through your body. Biting your bottom lip, you observe his nonchalant expression, seemingly unaffected by the passionate dance unfolding between you. Despite the beads of sweat forming on your brow, there’s not a drop to be seen on his honey-kissed skin. Exhaustion begins to creep in, weighing heavy on your limbs, but driven by the mounting arousal coiling in the pit of your stomach, you press on. You’re on a relentless mission to chase down your orgasm, every movement calculated to edge you closer to that elusive climax.

“Are you close, love?” He teases, his voice laced with playful anticipation, punctuated by a chuckle that dances through the air like a mischievous melody.

You nod eagerly, your breath hitching as you admit, “I am. But I need you,” each word punctuated by the rhythm of your body moving sinuously up and down his throbbing dick.

He raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m not doing anything or helping you,” he quips, his teasing tone sending a shiver down your spine.

“But I need you. I need your hands on my boobs,” you plead, your voice tinged with desperation as you teeter on the brink of release— you just need that little thing to push you over the edge. “Please,” you implore, leaning into him, your boobs pressing against his chest. “Just touch my tits, please.”

You observe him closely, noting the flicker of conflict in his eyes as he wrestles with the decision. His brow furrows in silent contemplation, betraying the inner turmoil he’s experiencing. You recognize that familiar crease of indecision on his forehead, a telltale sign that he’s grappling with his resolve. You know all too well that he always has a hard time saying no to you, his resistance crumbling under the weight of your persuasive plea.

With a decisive grunt, his hands abandon their hold on your hips, embarking on a tantalizing journey toward your awaiting breasts. His touch ignites a fiery anticipation within you, each caress a promise of impending ecstasy. “Fine,” he concedes with a playful lilt in his voice, “I’ll help you.”

As his fingers encircle your taut nipples, a wave of intense pleasure courses through you, eliciting a passionate cry of his name. “Thank you,” you exclaim with a breathless fervor, gratitude and desire intertwining in your voice.

You ride him with fervent abandon, as he skillfully toys with your breasts, his fingers teasing and tantalizing your hardened peaks. Each tug and caress sends electric currents of arousal pulsating through your entire being.

“Shit, Jimin,” you gasp, your voice strained with lust, feeling the tension within you building to its breaking point. Despite the exhaustion and the trembling in your thighs, you refuse to relent, driven by an insatiable desire to reach the peak of pleasure. “I’m coming,” you moan, the words escaping in a fervent declaration of impending release. As the wave of orgasm crashes over you, your body tenses, and you feel every muscle contract around his throbbing dick, your essence flooding over him in a torrent of blissful surrender, painting his cock with your essence that trails all the way down to his balls.

His fingers tighten around your breasts, eliciting a shiver of pleasure as he watches you unravel in ecstasy. “Fuck, you’re stunning when you come,” he breathes, his voice laced with awe and desire, his eyes tracing every quiver and tremble of your body as you succumb to the overwhelming waves of pleasure.

You collapse against him, feeling his dick still pulsing within you, aching for release. With exhaustion clouding your senses, you gaze down at him, your voice soft and pleading. “Jimin, can you... take over and fuck me?” you ask, your words a gentle plea. “I want you to finish too, but I’m... so tired. My thighs... They are so sore.”

He chuckles, a knowing gleam in his eyes that tells you he anticipated this moment. His hands, familiar and possessive, return to your ass, and with a swift motion, he delivers a playful spank, reigniting the flames of arousal coursing through your veins.

“Can’t fuck yourself on me anymore?” He teases, his voice laced with desire, as you feel his dick twitch inside you.

“I want to, but my thighs,” you plead with him, your touch grazing over his chest, tracing the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

With a sudden fluidity, he wraps his arms around your back, effortlessly flipping you both around, leaving you wide-eyed as you find yourself beneath him, him over you, his dick still nestled inside your pussy. His face hovers above yours, a smirk playing on his lips as he presses down, his warm breath brushing against your skin. “You want me to finish what you started?” He murmurs, his voice laced with desire and mischief.

His voice drips with a potent mix of danger and desire, its weight hanging heavy in the air, sending tantalizing shivers cascading down your spine.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, you’re begging for it?” He taunts once more, his voice laden with desire as he presses his dick deeper inside you. Fuck, you just want him to move, for him to fuck you so good.

Your desperation mounts, compelling you to plead with him once more, your voice raw with need as he remains motionless within you. “Jimin, please,” you implore, your urgency palpable, “I need you to fuck me, now. Please.”

With a primal hunger, he descends upon your neck, his kisses igniting a fire within you, his bite both painful and intoxicating, but he soothes it with his breath. As he moves upward, his breath hot against your ear, he whispers, “Oh, I’ll fuck you until you can’t think straight, love. So you can finally rest those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

As he finally starts to move within you, every thrust feels like a divine revelation. You can’t help but moan at the sheer ecstasy coursing through your body, each sensation more intoxicating than the last. Damn, it’s beyond good.

He establishes a rhythm that’s slow yet intense, each thrust penetrating you so deep it’s enough to ignite fireworks in your mind.

“Yes, Jimin, right there!” You cry out, his precise thrusts hitting you in all the perfect spots, his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of sensations that electrify your entire being. You can feel your pussy tightening with each movement, his bites sending a delicious shiver down your spine. You just know he’s leaving marks on your skin again, but fuck, you both love that.

“You just love my cock so much, you can never get enough of it?” He bends down and whispers in your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine, so much so that you can feel how all the hairs over your body raise in anticipation. You moan in pleasure, as your hands travel to his back, where your nails dig into his honey-kissed skin.

“Yes,” you moan, surrendering to the pleasure coursing through you, “I love your cock, can’t get enough of it, or you.” Your words are punctuated by the exquisite sensations of his deep and slow thrusts, making you feel so close to another orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs huskily, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, “can’t get enough of you or your pussy either.” His lips find solace on your neck once more, teasingly nibbling and sucking on your skin, igniting a wildfire of sensations within you.

And then it hits you like a tidal wave, that electrifying surge as the coil inside you snaps and your entire being is engulfed in the ecstasy of another orgasm. Your pussy clenches frantically around his dick, milking him with every pulsating wave of pleasure. You’re lost in a symphony of moans and pants, his relentless thrusts fueling the fire as he continues to kiss and nibble at your neck, amplifying the sensation to unimaginable heights.

“Fuck,” you moan, every syllable a testament to the whirlwind of lust swirling within you, enveloping you in a delicious haze of pleasure. In this moment, you feel utterly consumed, every fiber of your being vibrating with a primal satisfaction, as if you couldn't possibly contain all the desire coursing through your veins.

Jimin leans up, his gaze a fiery fusion of love and raw desire, igniting an inferno of longing within you. With a tender yet commanding touch, he lifts one of your legs, cradling it against his body, before repeating the motion with the other, each movement deliberate and intoxicating. As he leans closer down to you, you feel how sore your thighs really are, as he stretches them out for you in the process, and then, he quickens his pace, fucking you faster than before.

You’re swept away in a whirlwind of sensation, barely able to catch your breath as he relentlessly drives you to the brink and beyond. With each thrust, he propels you further into the depths of ecstasy, seamlessly transitioning from one climax to the next, until you’re consumed by a tidal wave of pleasure, threatening to wash over you.

Jimin’s primal groans fill the air, mixing with the rhythmic symphony of skin on skin as he drives into you with unrestrained intensity. His face, a canvas of raw pleasure, tells a story of desire as he relentlessly pounds into you. With each thrust, the bed creaks beneath you, and your hands grips the sheets tightly as you surrender to the lust running through your veins.

You sense his impending release in the ferocity of his thrusts, each one driving you closer to the edge. Your own climax builds, a tidal wave of pleasure gathering strength with each movement. The intensity of the moment ignites a fire within you, burning hotter and more fiercely than ever before.

Every fiber of your being is ablaze with ecstasy as you lock eyes with Jimin, his hazel eyes a mesmerizing blend of desire and devotion. With ragged breaths, you confess, “Fuck, Jimin. I’m gonna come again.”

As beads of sweat finally cascade down his glistening body, a few droplets find their way onto your chest, trickling sensually between your breasts. His demeanor, a mix of intensity and restraint, is nothing short of sinful. His brows knit together, lips caught between his teeth, and as he inches closer to the brink of ecstasy his nose begins to scrunch, and you find yourself captivated by his raw, primal allure. It’s a sight you relish, a testament to the intoxicating power he holds over you.

His voice, ragged and urgent, cuts through the air like a primal plea. “Fuck, yeah, come again, before me, babe,” he urges, the words tumbling from his lips in a breathless rush. You can sense the urgency in his tone, a desperate need for release that mirrors your own. He’s held back his own climax for what feels like an eternity, and now, he’s almost there.

As he thrusts deeply into your pulsating pussy, you surrender to another wave of pleasure, your essence surging around him like a wild, untamed force. The world around you blurs as your senses are consumed by ecstasy, your vision dimming at the edges— you feel so gone. With a shuddering sigh, you close your eyes, savoring every electrifying sensation of him buried deep within you.

“Fuck, love,” he pants, his fingers digging into your thighs as he plunges deeper, his rhythm slowing as he approaches his climax. With bated breath, you watch his expression intensify, his eyes fluttering shut, his nose scrunching in that adorable way you love. A guttural moan escapes his parted lips, your name a whispered mantra on his tongue. The sight of his release nearly overwhelms you, a surge of desire igniting within you, tempting you to join him in another orgasm.

He fills you up with his warm seed, his movements still gentle yet purposeful, blending your fluids together in a passionate fusion. You’re certain most of it trickles out, staining the sheets below, but at this moment, neither of you gives it a second thought. The sheets can be washed later anyway.

He gasps for precious air, his fingers threading through his tousled locks, his lip caught between his teeth in a display of post-climax bliss. As his gaze meets yours, you see the raw emotion there, an unspoken language of love that binds you together, stronger than ever before.

“Good morning, my love,” he murmurs, releasing your legs to slide gently down the sides of his body. Leaning in, he presses a tender kiss to your lips, igniting a warmth that spreads from your mouth to your fingertips.

You thread your fingers through his tousled hair, playfully tugging at the strands, and as you release, you meet his gaze with a tender smile. “Good morning,” you whisper, your voice carrying the warmth of a new day and the promise of endless affection.

He settles his weight atop you, his presence a comforting weight against your skin, and you revel in the sensation of his warmth enveloping you. Despite the softening of his dick inside you, you relish the intimacy, content to stay intertwined in each other’s embrace for what feels like an eternity. Time seems to melt away in the blissful haze of the moment, where nothing else matters except the connection between your bodies.

“We really should get up,” Jimin chuckles as he reluctantly lifts himself from your body. You emit a groan of protest, the thought of spending the entire day wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms, fucking each other the whole day is tempting you to stay in bed indefinitely.

He withdraws from you, and you can sense the trickle of liquid escaping your pussy, coursing down your ass and staining the sheets beneath you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean you up,” Jimin assures you, swiftly donning his boxers before darting downstairs to the bathroom, his footsteps echoing in the silent house.

He returns with a handful of washcloths, his presence comforting as he approaches your side. Gently, he parts your legs with his hands, his touch igniting a delicate warmth that courses through your body. As he presses the warm washcloth to your sensitive pussy, a shiver dances up your spine, eliciting soft mewls of pleasure. With careful precision, he begins to cleanse away the remnants of your passion, his attentive ministrations a soothing balm to your senses.

He descends eagerly, his lips tracing a path along your inner thigh as the warm washcloth glides over your sensitive flesh. A surge of anticipation courses through you, the proximity of his tantalizing lips to your core igniting a primal desire deep within. With each tender kiss, you can feel the intensity building, another wave of ecstasy threatening to consume you as his dangerous lips draw nearer to your pussy.

You bite down on your lip, struggling to contain the electric tremors racing through your body. There’s an inexplicable tension, an ache building deep within you at the mere sensation of his lips caressing your thighs. With every delicate kiss, it’s as if fireworks explode beneath your skin, igniting a fierce yearning that threatens to consume you whole. Your breath quickens, anticipation mounting as your pussy tightens in desperate anticipation. Yet, he deliberately avoids your most sensitive spot, his lips trailing to the other thigh, bestowing the same tender devotion with each fleeting touch.

Fuck. Could you come with just those tender kisses on your thighs and the damn washcloth teasing your core?

Oh god, you’re craving his touch on your pussy— it’s insane. Yearning for that final release, because it’s right there, tantalizingly close, and you’re already so worked up, knowing it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge.

“Jimin,” you groan, urgency lacing your voice as you grab his hair, pulling him towards your throbbing pussy, and pressing his face down into your quivering folds.

“Make me come again,” you pant and plead, your voice trembling with an insatiable hunger for release.

He doesn’t need to be told twice; you feel the warmth of his tongue on your folds, savoring every lingering drop of your essence. Then, he ascends towards your clit, sucking on it with fervor, causing you to arch your back and lose yourself in the sensation. Your head falls back into the sheets, your body writhing with ecstasy as you grind your hips into his eager mouth.

Your fingers grip his hair tighter, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, and your voice forms a rhythmic chant of his name, interspersed with moans that echo through the room. Every sensation heightens, your body tingling with anticipation, toes curling involuntarily as you teeter on the edge of euphoria.

His teeth graze your sensitive nub, sending electric waves of pleasure through your body, and as he sucks on it, you feel yourself unraveling, like putty in his hands. A flood of your essence pours out, your body convulsing with ecstasy, fingers clenching in his hair as you cry out his name. Your hips buck uncontrollably as you reach the peak, and he expertly licks up every drop of your essence.

He keeps sucking until you’re dry, until every last drop of your essence is consumed, leaving only the lingering traces of his saliva glistening on your skin.

You tug on his hair, urging him up to your face. Flustered and panting for air, you’re consumed by the desire to kiss him. Pulling him close, you press your lips against his, a passionate exchange that tastes of your essence mingled with his, a heady blend you don’t mind.

As you part for air, you draw him into a warm embrace, molding his body against yours. Soft giggles escape Jimin’s lips, his affectionate words filling the air, “I love waking up like this, you know,” his voice brimming with adoration.

Taehyung stands out like a vibrant splash of color against the rustic backdrop of the ranch, but he’s determined to blend in as seamlessly as possible.

Jimin and Jungkook reluctantly agree to let him stay in one of the smaller guest houses, swayed by Taehyung’s persistent desire to reconnect with his brothers and catch up on lost time. However, a shadow of doubt looms over Jimin’s mind, a residue of skepticism lingering from the Deiji debacle. Despite Taehyung's assurances, Jimin remains cautious, his trust not easily earned after the betrayal he’s endured. Yet, Taehyung’s unwavering determination and the solid proof he provides gradually chip away at Jimin’s reservations, paving the way for a tentative reconciliation.

However, you can’t deny that tensions are running high, especially with Bell Ranch overflowing with people while your own ranch is still under reconstruction—though it’s nearing completion. It’s a bittersweet anticipation, a mix of excitement for the new beginning and reluctance to leave behind the life you’ve built with your boyfriend, which you cherish dearly.

Today is bustling with activity as everyone pitches in to shear the sheep. Amidst the flurry of tasks, you’ve made a mental note to seize the opportunity to interrogate Taehyung about his true intentions for staying. After all, you’ve learned the hard way that vigilance is paramount, and you refuse to let your guard down again.

Jimin sidles up to you, enveloping you in a warm embrace, his arms encircling your frame as he rests his head on your shoulder. “Ready to shear some sheep, babe?” He murmurs, his voice filled with affection and anticipation for the day ahead.

You chuckle softly as his hair tickles your neck, savoring the intimate moment as you lean into his embrace. “I was actually thinking that Taehyung and I could handle sorting the wool,” you suggest, your voice carrying a hint of determination. “It’ll give me a chance to have a chat with him.”

Jimin gently guides your body to face him, his expression tinged with curiosity. “Are you planning to interrogate him?” He inquires, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and concern.

You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes in jest, but a playful smile graces your lips as you meet your boyfriend’s gaze. “Yes, someone has to get to the bottom of things,” you retort, your determination shining through.

He nods in understanding, and you find solace in his agreement, grateful that he doesn’t resist your decision. Not that he typically would, but after everything you’ve weathered together recently, it feels reassuring to approach things with a heightened sense of awareness and scrutiny.

As Jungkook and your sister step into the shearing shed, you greet them with a cheerful wave and a warm smile, grateful for their presence amidst the bustling activity.

“Shall we get to work?” Your sister’s voice rings out, punctuated by the sound of her stretching. Clad in a white tank top that seems to repel the relentless heat, she’s ready for action, as is Jungkook beside her. You and Jimin match the attire, sporting fitted tank tops of your own, ready to tackle the tasks ahead with determination.

“We’re still waiting on the others,” you remark with a smile, your gaze drifting towards the wool sorting station. Just then, the door swings open, a cacophony of voices flooding the space, signaling the arrival of the rest of the crew.

Yoongi, Hoseok, Ha-rin, and Soo-ah saunter in, their laughter echoing joyously throughout the room. While you’re unsure of the source of their amusement, their infectious laughter is enough to brighten your spirits and elicit a genuine smile from you.

As Ara strides in alongside Taehyung, their hushed conversation catches your attention. Despite the serious undertone, there’s a glimmer of warmth in their eyes, and a hint of a smile plays on their lips. Intrigued by their demeanor, you can’t help but wonder about the topic of their discussion.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here,” Jungkook declares, his clipper in hand, “let’s get down to business.”

“Taehyung, join me at the wool sorting station,” you beckon, motioning for him to join you. With a soft smile gracing his lips, he strides over, ready to lend a hand.

“Jimin, Hobi, Yoongi, and I will tackle the shearing,” Jungkook announces, a wide grin lighting up his face. “The rest of you ladies can lend a hand by rounding up the sheep for us.”

“What? I wanna shear sheep too,” your sister protests, her arms crossing defiantly beneath her chest, a playful pout adorning her face.

“And I’m not in the mood for shearing either. How about we switch?” Yoongi suggests with a smirk, eliciting a grin from your sister. You catch Jungkook rolling his eyes at the exchange, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

With everyone settled into their roles, you dive into the tasks at hand. The rhythmic hum of clippers fills the shed, accompanied by the gentle rustle of wool and the occasional laughter echoing off the walls. As the temperature rises, beads of sweat form on your brow, your tank top clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Sorting through the wool handed to you by either Yoongi, Ara, Soo-ah, or Ha-rin, you work diligently, the camaraderie of the moment overshadowing the discomfort of the heat.

Yoongi strides over, arms laden with wool, and deposits it onto the table with a resounding thud. “Here you go,” he declares, his voice tinged with determination as he joins you and Taehyung in inspecting the fibers for any imperfections that could downgrade its quality.

“Thanks, Yoon,” you offer with a grateful smile, appreciating his contribution before he swiftly turns back to the task at hand, disappearing into the flurry of activity as he assists in gathering more sheep.

Turning his gaze towards you, Taehyung’s curiosity piques. “You’re from the city too, aren’t you?” He inquires, a hint of intrigue lacing his words.

You offer him a warm smile, pausing your inspection of the wool to meet his gaze. “I spent my childhood here. But yes, I’ve mostly lived in the city,” you explain. “What about you? What’s your reason for wanting to reside in the middle of nowhere?”

His grin widens, a boxy and infectious smile lighting up his features as laughter dances in his eyes. In that moment, you find him utterly endearing. “I’m just craving a change of scenery,” he admits, his voice tinged with longing. “Something slower, calmer, and more peaceful.”

“Ah, yeah I get that. Everything’s more calm out here surrounded by nature, all the greens and the mountains,” you remark, your smile reflecting the tranquility of the landscape. Returning your attention to the wool, you scrutinize it meticulously, determined to ensure its perfection. After all, securing the highest classification means fetching the best prices—a goal you’re committed to achieving.

“And I also want to get to know my brothers better,” he adds, his voice carrying a weight of longing and earnestness.

You nod empathetically, grasping his sentiment. “So, did your mom just break the news to you?” You inquire, your curiosity piqued.

His nod is accompanied by a somber shift in his demeanor, a flicker of anger crossing his features as he clenches his teeth. “Yeah. I have a father—or a dad,” he corrects himself, bitterness seeping into his tone. “But now it turns out he’s not my biological one. My mom only found out recently when he was hospitalized and I offered to donate part of my liver. That’s when we discovered the truth—we’re not related.”

Your gasp echoes through the air, your eyes widening with a mixture of shock, horror, and empathy. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you murmur, your voice heavy with concern. “Is your dad okay now?”

He nods slowly, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. “Yeah, he’s alright now,” he confirms. “But it hit us like a ton of bricks. My mom had to revisit her past, all those guys she dated, trying to piece it together. And here we are,” he adds with a shrug, his pain palpable in the weight of his gaze.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” you offer sympathetically, briefly squeezing his arm in reassurance before returning to the task at hand. With determined focus, you gather the wool and feed it into the crushing machine, watching as it transforms into compacted bundles ready for bagging.

Taehyung trails after you, his voice tinged with gratitude. “Thanks. It’s okay. But,” he hesitates, leaning in closer over your shoulder, “How can I win them over? They don’t seem to warm up to me much.”

Your laughter rings out as you pivot, beckoning Taehyung to join you back at the table. “Just be genuine, kind, and humble,” you advise, meeting his gaze earnestly. “Jungkook and Jimin had their share of disagreements when they first discovered they were siblings. But genuine kindness can get you far.”

Your smile widens as Ara approaches with another batch of wool, her shy grin directed at Taehyung drawing a chuckle from you. It’s a rare sight to see Ara in such a bashful state.

“I just really want them to accept me,” Taehyung confesses, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his expression, his features taking on a slight pout.

“Then trust me, and stick with my advice,” you reassure him with a warm smile, conveying your confidence in his ability to win them over. Taehyung exudes genuine kindness, and you sense no ulterior motives in his intentions.

As you work, Jimin approaches from behind, his hands finding your hips and playfully trailing down to grasp your ass, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He leans in close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he murmurs softly, “Let’s take a break, my love.”

With a chuckle, you spin around to face him, your laughter fading as your lips meet his in a tender and affectionate kiss.

As the rest of the guys gather around the sorting table, Yoongi wastes no time heading for the cooler. “Anyone up for some water or maybe a cold beer?” he offers, casting a glance around the group.

“Feel like sharing a beer?” You suggest to Jimin, a playful glint in your eyes. His smile widens, and he nods eagerly, joining you at the cooler to fetch a cold one, while the others help themselves to either water or beer.

“How are you finding it here?” Hoseok inquires of Taehyung, taking a swig of his water, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.

“It’s been cool so far. Just trying to get to know everyone,” Taehyung replies, his gaze sweeping across the group with genuine interest.

“I’d be happy to help with that,” Hoseok offers, his grin widening as his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm.

Hoseok’s playful finger-pointing game begins, and as he gestures to each person, a chorus of laughter fills the room. “Soo-ah’s the cute and funny one,” he declares with a grin, before moving on, “Ara’s the tall and orderly one.”

His gaze sweeps the room, landing on each member in turn. “Ha-rin’s the sweet one who keeps us all fed,” he continues, and then he points to Yoongi, “Yoongi’s the sleepy but hard-working one—oh, and also, my boyfriend,” he adds with a chuckle. Finally, he turns to you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “And she’s pretty, but don’t get on her bad side; she’ll give you a piece of her mind.” Laughter erupts from the group, and you playfully roll your eyes as Jimin pulls you closer, his embrace warm and comforting, his lips pressing softly against your temple.

Hoseok continues with his introductions, his playful tone keeping everyone entertained. “And then there’s Jessi,” he says, a note of caution in his voice, “Never get on her bad side either, but deep down, she’s a sweetheart, a loyal friend.”

His gaze shifts to you and Jimin, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Next up, we have Jimin,” he says warmly, admiration evident in his tone, “Dedicated, kind, and sometimes too good for his own good.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he turns to Jungkook.

“And of course, there’s Jungkook,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips, “Who tends to let his dick do the thinking for him.” Laughter ripples through the group as Jungkook playfully shoves Hoseok, earning a round of chuckles from everyone.

Laughter erupts once more, Jungkook’s protest drowned out by the jovial atmosphere. “Hey, I’ve changed my ways!” he insists, but your sister chimes in with a teasing grin, “It’s okay, Kook. Your dick is getting married to me soon.” Her playful remark earns a round of chuckles and good-natured teasing from the group.

Jessi saunters over to Jungkook, her steps purposeful, and plants a lingering kiss on his lips, a moment that seems to stretch into eternity. The group erupts into playful cat-calls and whistles, their cheers punctuating the affectionate display between the couple.

Hoseok interjects with a playful jab, his finger pointing towards Jungkook and your sister, who are locked in an embrace that borders on scandalous as they have begun to grind their bodies against each other. “And that’s precisely why we say he thinks with his dick. Too much PDA!” he quips, the lighthearted teasing drawing laughter from the group as they playfully rib the amorous couple.

“It really is a bit much,” you remark with a chuckle, stealing a glance at Jimin whose hand finds yours in a subtle display of affection. “At least we try to keep our PDA low-key around the others,” you add with a playful wink, eliciting a soft smile from Jimin as he squeezes your hand in agreement.

Yoongi huffs, his eyes rolling dramatically as he nurses his beer. “You two should just go get a room already,” he quips, the playful annoyance in his voice drawing laughter from the group as he nods toward your sister and Jungkook.

Yoongi chuckles deeply, his laughter infused with a hint of amusement. “That was pretty cool, babe, but also, very stereotypical casting for all of us,” he remarks, shooting a playful glance around the group. Hoseok joins him at his side, nodding in agreement with a grin.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok chuckles, his tone carrying a hint of mischief that matches the glint in his eyes. Yet, there's a warmth to his expression that makes his lack of apology forgivable. After all, his assessment of all of you wasn't entirely inaccurate.

“Thanks,” Taehyung replies with a genuine smile, a glimmer of gratitude shining in his eyes as he acknowledges Hoseok’s words.

“We should get back to work,” Jimin suggests, his touch on your hip sending a familiar, comforting shiver down your spine, as it always does.

You all return to your tasks, you and Taehyung engaged in sorting the wool while sharing anecdotes about your childhoods and exchanging musings about life in the city.

Ha-rin approaches with a bundle of wool for sorting and sets it on the table before leaning in close to you, her expression carrying a sense of urgency. “I have something important to share with you,” she whispers.

You pivot toward her, your attention fully captured, while Taehyung focuses on the task of sorting the wool.

Ha-rin’s eyes sparkle with an unmistakable glow, maybe happiness or excitement, as her smile widens, and her cheeks flush with color. “Do you remember Seokjin?” she asks, her voice filled with anticipation.

You nod eagerly, a smile stretching across your face, encouraging Ha-rin to continue with her story.

“Well, We’re dating now!” She announces, her voice brimming with enthusiasm as she practically bounces with joy.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” You exclaim, your voice filled with genuine excitement, as you pull her into your embrace for a tight hug.

“Who’s Seokjin?” Taehyung’s curious voice chimes in from behind you.

“Just my new boyfriend,” Ha-rin says with a proud voice, her eyes shimmering with new love, “You’ll meet him at the wedding.”

“Cool,” Taehyung says with a smile as he goes back to sorting the wool with you, his movements fluid and purposeful as he assists in the process of crushing and bagging it.

The rest of the day unfolds much the same, a symphony of shared labor and laughter, until the sun dips low in the sky, casting golden hues across the landscape. With evening approaching, the decision is made to take the festivities outdoors, firing up the barbecue on the terrace.

After weeks of anticipation and tireless efforts, the final touches have been put in place, completing the reconstruction of your beloved ranch. The delivery trucks have come and gone, leaving behind a treasure trove of furniture that now adorns your home. With the major pieces in place, your attention turns to the finer details — the trinkets, accents, and embellishments that will infuse warmth and personality into every corner of your space.

The rain beats relentlessly against the windshield, but Jimin’s presence beside you provides a comforting contrast to the gloomy weather outside. Despite the downpour making visibility scarce, your determination to find the perfect pieces for your home remains unwavering as you navigate through the storm into town, eager to explore the treasures waiting within the second-hand furniture store.

You both step out of Jimin’s truck, the sound of the rain intensifies, its rhythmic patter echoing through the streets. Jimin’s hand finds yours, fingers interlocking as if seeking solace in each other’s touch amidst the storm. Together, you brave the downpour, your clothes already drenched, yet the warmth of his hand in yours provides a shield against the chill of the rain.

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, and Jimin’s gaze meets yours, his eyes reflecting concern and affection. “Do you have a clear idea of what you’re looking for?” He inquires, his voice cutting through the sound of raindrops drumming against the pavement.

You pause for a moment, the weight of your loss heavy in your words, “I don’t really know. I suppose I’ll recognize it when I see it. It’s just... devastating, you know? All those irreplaceable things, gone in an instant.” The ache in your voice echoes the memories lost in the fire—photos of cherished moments, mementos of family and your shared history with Jimin. Yet, despite the devastation, there’s a glimmer of solace in your next words, “But we still have each other, and that’s what matters most.”

Jimin’s voice carries a tender reassurance, “I know, love. It’s not the same, but we can create new memories— together.” His hopeful smile glimmers through the rain as you reach the door of the store, promising a future woven with shared moments and fresh beginnings.

As he pushes open the door, you’re enveloped in the scent of old wood and nostalgia, a comforting embrace from the past. Inside, Jimin guides you through the aisles, where small lamps cast warm glows, paintings whisper tales of distant lands, and bedding invites dreams of serenity. Yet, amidst the array of treasures, nothing seems to call out to you, each item silent in its appeal.

You find yourself yearning for the familiarity of your old belongings, their absence casting a shadow over the task of replacement. Amidst the sea of options, uncertainty looms large, leaving you grappling with indecision as you navigate the aisles.

“Nothing here seems to resonate with me,” you grumble softly, feeling a sense of frustration as Jimin wraps his arm around you, offering silent support in the midst of your indecision.

“You don’t have to force it, love,” he says, his touch gentle as he strokes your arm, understanding the weight of the moment as you continue to wander among the aisles filled with relics of other people’s pasts, none of which seem to fit the future you’re trying to build for your home.

“I know, it’s just... I want my home to feel like mine again,” you admit, your voice carrying the weight of longing and a touch of anxiety. You can feel the restlessness creeping into your veins, a desperate desire to reclaim the sense of belonging that once filled every corner of your space. Even after the rebuilding was complete and you revisited, that familiar warmth seemed elusive, leaving you yearning for a sense of home that now feels like a distant memory.

“I understand. And if it helps, I have some old photos of us as kids. Maybe they’ll bring back some of that warmth,” he offers, his voice tender as he leans in to kiss your cheek. In that moment, flooded with memories and affection, your heart swells with love and a renewed sense of comfort.

“Thank you, my love,” you murmur, leaning into his warm touch, feeling a surge of gratitude for having him by your side, a constant source of comfort and support in your life.

“Shall we head back home, then?” he asks, gently tugging you towards the exit, his eyes filled with a tender reassurance that no matter where you go, as long as you’re together, it’s home.

“Yeah, let’s head back home,” you agree, following his lead out into the rain. The downpour has only intensified, each raindrop drumming a frantic rhythm on the pavement. You quicken your pace, darting towards his truck with eager steps, eager to escape the deluge and find refuge in the warmth of home.

You share a laugh, the sound mingling with the patter of rain around you, as you both sit there drenched, your hair plastered to your skin and raindrops trickling down your clothes like tiny rivers.

Jimin casually runs his hand through his bangs, a gesture so effortlessly captivating that it sends a shiver down your spine. There’s something undeniably enticing about the way his fingers tousle his hair, igniting a fire deep within your core.

With a satisfying rumble, Jimin turns the key in the ignition, awakening his truck from its slumber. The engine roars to life, echoing the thunderous rhythm of your hearts. As he deftly maneuvers the vehicle in reverse, the world outside the windshield blurs into streaks of rain, a symphony of droplets dancing against the glass. Soon, you’re back on the familiar path homeward, each turn of the wheel bringing you closer to the sanctuary of his home.

You gaze out the rain-streaked windows, the world outside a whirl of fleeting hues and misty raindrops. A pang of melancholy settles in your chest, a silent lament for the unfulfilled promise of finding pieces to restore the warmth of your home. Yet, amidst the downpour and the passing scenery, a glimmer of hope flickers within you. You cling to the belief that with time, dedication, and shared love, you can piece together the fragments of familiarity, stitching together a tapestry of comfort reminiscent of days gone by.

“It’s pouring buckets,” you remark, squinting through the rain that blurs the world beyond the windshield into an abstract watercolor.

“Yeah, it’s like driving on an ice rink out here,” Jimin mutters, his grip on the wheel tightening as the car skids slightly, prompting you to glance at him, relieved to find his attention still fixed on the road ahead.

Damn you hate driving in rainy weather— you know it takes so much focus and attention. Your muscles tensing with each unpredictable swerve of the car. Every moment feels like an eternity, your only wish for the storm to relent and let you reach your destination unscathed.

“Shit!” Jimin’s expletive slices through the tension as a deer darts across the road, forcing him to swerve sharply and the truck skids to a halt. Your heart lurches against the seatbelt, grateful for its hold as the truck jerks to a stop. With wide eyes, you glance at Jimin, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, a symphony of muttered curses escaping his lips.

He presses down on the accelerator, but the wheels only spin uselessly, kicking up mud and gravel.

Damn it, you’re stuck, aren’t you?

You turn to Jimin, your eyes widening in alarm. “Are we stuck?”

Jimin huffs, frustration evident as he runs a hand through his hair again. “I’m afraid we are.”

“At least the deer made it out okay,” he grunts in frustration.

“Yeah, yeah, great for the deer, but now we’re stranded,” you grumble, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, frustration settling in as rain pelts the chassis of the truck.

You release a frustrated huff as the reality of the situation sinks in. “What do we do now, Jimin?” You turn to him, concern etched in your eyes.

“We could try to push the truck back onto the road,” he suggests, his breath heavy with resignation.

You gape at him, disbelief etched across your face. “Why can’t we just call for help?”

He lets out a frustrated chuckle, the sound laced with tension. “It’ll take forever for help to arrive out here. We might as well give it a shot, see if we can push it out of the mud. If we can’t, then we’ll call for backup.”

“Fine,” you grunt, regretting not grabbing your raincoat before this impromptu adventure. Anger simmers beneath your skin, though you know it’s futile. Still, frustration pulses through your veins as you swing open the door and step out into the relentless rain, each drop feeling like a reminder of the day’s misfortune.

Jimin joins you, and together you march to the rear of the truck, determination etched on your faces as you brace yourselves against the heavy load. With gritted teeth and strained muscles, you throw your weight against it, but it remains stubbornly unmoved, resisting your efforts with an infuriating steadfastness.

“Jimin, have you even put it in neutral?” you demand, your patience wearing thin, the frustration evident in your tone as irritation simmers beneath the surface.

“Shit, I forgot that,” Jimin apologizes, rushing back to the driver’s seat to rectify his oversight and shift the gear into neutral. You can’t help but roll your eyes and emit a frustrated grunt. Forgetting such a crucial step isn’t exactly conducive to getting the truck unstuck, and you're feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you.

“Seriously, love,” you grumble, the frustration mounting within you like a tempest.

“Are you mad now?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity and concern.

“Yeah! I’m so frustrated that we’re in this situation at all!” you huff in anger, your voice resonating with frustration. You plant your hands firmly on the load at the back of the truck. “Help me push it.”

Jimin joins you, his expression apologetic as he understands your frustration. Despite his remorse, you’re determined to push the damn truck back on the road and get back home. The rain continues to soak you both, and while the weather isn’t freezing, you're aware that staying outside in wet clothes isn’t ideal.

You exert every ounce of strength to push the damn truck, but it remains stubbornly stuck in the mud. Your feet struggle for traction in the slippery terrain, and with a frustrated grunt, you lose your balance, landing with a heavy thud in the mire. Jimin, ever beside you, extends his hand, offering support in the midst of your muddy ordeal.

As you grip his hand, now coated in mud like the rest of you from your unplanned plunge, Jimin’s concern is palpable in his voice. “Are you alright?” He inquires, his eyes scanning you for any signs of injury amidst the muck.

Frustration boiling over, you unleash a torrent of emotion, your voice echoing in the rain-soaked air. “I hate this fucking truck!” You scream, the words carrying your exasperation and anger into the stormy air.

With a surge of frustration, you unleash a primal act of defiance, kicking the stubborn truck with all your might. Storming around to the passenger side, you yank open the door, then dive into the glove compartment, your hands fumbling desperately for anything to wipe the mud from your face.

In the heat of your fury, items tumble from the glove box, but you pay them no mind. Enveloped by anger, you allow the contents to spill onto the muddied ground, a chaotic symphony of frustration. Finally, your hand closes around a fabric, and as you draw it out, relief washes over you at the sight of the handkerchief clutched in your grasp.

“I’m so sorry, but there’s no reason to be mad,” Jimin’s voice breaks through your fury, gentle and soothing, yet you can’t shake off the bubbling anger as you tighten your grip around the cloth, your frustration simmering beneath the surface like a tempest ready to erupt.

“This is your fucking fault! If you hadn’t swerved to avoid that deer, we wouldn’t be stuck here!” You erupt, the words laced with bitterness and frustration, punctuated by the slamming of the door. Bending down, you scoop up a handful of mud, your movements fueled by anger, and hurl it at your boyfriend, the wet earth splattering against his chest with a muddy thud.

“Hey!” He shouts, his voice tinged with both surprise and frustration as the mud hits him squarely in the chest. “If I hadn’t swerved, we would’ve collided with the poor animal,” he huffs, his words defensive yet tinged with a hint of remorse.

“I don’t give a Shit! Why do you have to be so damn sweet?” You curse, frustration dripping from every word as you slump against the passenger’s door, letting your body slide down to the dirt. At this point, you couldn’t care less. You’re drenched, the rain relentless, and your clothes are soaked and caked with mud. You scoop up more dirt, hurling it at him, but a small smile tugs at your lips nonetheless.

“Why are you throwing mud at me?” He chuckles as you continue to hurl clumps of mud at him.

“You deserve to be as filthy as me. After all, this mess is all your doing,” you retort with a laugh, embracing the absurdity of the moment. You feel utterly ridiculous, but in the midst of your misery, why not find a bit of humor?

Your fingers coil around yet another clump of mud, but this one has an unfamiliar weight to it. Just as you’re about to launch it at him, a flicker of caution halts your arm mid-swing. What if it’s not just mud? What if it’s a stone? You freeze, the gravity of potentially hurting him suddenly sinking in. With a conscious effort, you halt your motion and peer closely at the object cradled in your palm.

As you inspect the object further, it dawns on you that it’s not a stone at all—it’s more box-shaped, its contours distinctly different from the surrounding mud.

You pull the object closer, curiosity piqued. With both hands now engaged in the inspection, the handkerchief falls forgotten into the mud below.

As you remove the mud from the box, your heart races with anticipation, and a surge of emotions washes over you—love, excitement, and a hint of disbelief. With trembling hands, you begin to realize the significance of what you might have stumbled upon.

Jimin notices the box in your hands, and as your eyes widen with realization, he senses a shift in the atmosphere. His own expression morphs into one of nervousness and shock as he hurries over to you, his voice pleading, “Don’t.”

“Jimin,” your voice quivers, uncertainty laced with a trembling anticipation as you gaze at the box in your hands. A strange mix of fear and longing swirls within you, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as your body trembles with emotion. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Please don’t open it now,” he implores, his voice tinged with urgency as he kneels before you, eyes pleading.

You disregard his pleas, your focus solely on the mysterious box in your hands. His touch, though comforting, fades into the background as tears blur your vision.

“Is this... for me?” The question trembles in your voice, laden with hope and uncertainty.

He takes a deep breath, a hint of frustration flickering across his features before he confirms with a soft, resigned tone, “It is.”

You lock eyes with him, your gaze searching for answers. “Why can’t I open it then?” You ask, your voice a blend of curiosity and longing, yearning to unravel the mystery within the box.

He bites his bottom lip, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he weighs his words carefully. “It’s not the right time,” he murmurs softly, his tone laden with hidden meaning, leaving you wondering what secrets the box holds and why now isn't the moment to unveil it.

“Right time?” You echo, your voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and longing, your fingers tightening around the box as if it holds the answers to all your questions. You draw it closer to your chest, the weight of it pressing against your heart, desperate for the secrets it guards to be revealed.

You feel as if the air has been sucked out of your lungs, a lump forming in your throat, making it hard to speak. “I don’t care about the right time,” you manage to say, your voice strained with emotion, your heart pounding against the confines of your chest.

Your voice quivers with raw emotion, the weight of your longing evident in every syllable. “I want to open it,” you insist, your words carrying the depth of your desire, echoing the urgency in your heart.

You catch a glimpse of uncertainty flickering in his eyes, a silent plea for patience. Yet, an undeniable yearning propels you forward. Damn it, you need to uncover the mysteries held within that box!

“Or better yet, you open it for me,” you press the box into his trembling hands, your voice a whisper of longing, “Please.”

He accepts the box from your hands into his own, his fingers tracing its edges with a tenderness that mirrors the emotion swirling in the air around you. For a timeless moment, the rain’s relentless patter provides the only soundtrack to your anticipation.

“Alright,” he whispers, his voice a gentle breeze in the midst of the rainstorm, laden with layers of emotion—love, adoration, and a hint of vulnerability that draws you closer.

With deliberate care, he unfurls the box’s lid, revealing its hidden treasure, as you stand there in the rain, every droplet echoing the rapid beat of your heart. Your breath hangs suspended as the ring emerges, a golden band adorned with a mesmerizing purple gemstone. Your hands quiver with anticipation, your gaze flitting between the ring and your beloved, each moment pregnant with emotion.

Jimin kneels before you, his eyes alight with a blend of love and hope that sparkles even in the rain-soaked dimness. His hair, drenched and plastered to his head, gives him an endearingly disheveled appearance, yet there’s an undeniable allure in his vulnerability. With the box cradled in his hand, he exudes a nervous energy, his lip caught between his teeth.

In that suspended moment, every beat of your heart seems magnified, echoing in the space between you and Jimin. Emotions swirl within you, a tumultuous mix of love and anticipation, rendering you speechless. Your affection for him surges, a tidal wave of adoration that threatens to overwhelm you. All you want is to feel the weight of that ring on your finger, a tangible symbol of your boundless love.

Yet, as the seconds tick by, the question remains unspoken, hanging in the air like an unclaimed promise.

With a deep breath, he begins, “My love,” and the mere sound of those words sends a shiver down your spine, a surge of emotions welling up within you, threatening to overflow. His voice, soft yet laden with sincerity, washes over you like a gentle breeze on a summer day.

“I’ve loved you for so long, with every beat of my heart,” he confesses, his voice wavering with emotion amidst the relentless downpour. “I want nothing more than to spend eternity by your side, to cherish every moment with you. Will you marry me?” With those words, he offers you not just a ring, but his soul, laid bare before you, his eyes reflecting the depth of his devotion despite the storm raging around you.

Tears mingle with the raindrops, cascading down your cheeks, as you gaze at him, your heart a tumultuous symphony of emotions. In that moment, the world around you fades into a blur, leaving only him, his earnest expression etched into your soul.

“Fuck yes, you beautiful fool,” you manage to gasp amidst tears of joy, your muddy fingers staining his cheeks as you pull him into a fervent kiss. In that embrace, it’s as if the universe itself has aligned, every piece falling into perfect place. Your kiss is a declaration, a promise of endless love and boundless passion, a testament to the unbreakable bond between your souls. As you meld together in that moment, you can’t help but release a guttural sound of longing and satisfaction into his mouth.

With a tender chuckle, he breaks the kiss for a moment, and as you catch your breath, your left hand trembles with the weight of your affection as you extend it towards him.

Gently, he slides the ring over your muddy ring finger, his eyes never leaving yours, and when it finally settles in its place, you glance down at the ring. There, snug on your finger, it feels like it belongs, a tangible emblem of your love. You’re overwhelmed with an indescribable sense of completeness, your heart brimming with an abundance of love.

With a soft smile, you meet his gaze, captivated by the dimples adorning his cheeks. Eager for another kiss, you lean in, your enthusiasm propelling you forward, but in your haste, you inadvertently push him down onto the muddy ground. His back meets the wet earth, but undeterred, you lower yourself on top of him, your lips meeting in a fervent embrace, each kiss imbued with the passion and love that fills your heart.

You couldn’t care less about the rain, the mud coating your clothes, or the dampness seeping into your skin. In this moment, with his proposal still echoing in your mind, you’re consumed by an overwhelming sense of love and euphoria. It’s as if the world around you fades into insignificance compared to the depth of emotion swelling in your heart.

“Jimin, I…” You pause, your voice cracking with emotion as you lock eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze conveying volumes of unsaid words. “Damn it,” you continue, your voice trembling with raw sincerity, “I love you more than words can express. We’ve weathered storms together, faced hardships, but through it all, my love for you has only grown stronger. I want to spend eternity with you, by your side, through every high and every low.”

Tears stream down your cheeks, a mixture of overwhelming joy and profound emotion washing over you. But instead of words, you convey the depth of your feelings through a tender kiss, your lips meeting his with a fervor born of love. As you press against him, you feel the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling, a comforting reassurance amidst the storm of emotions. With each tear that falls, you’re reminded of the depth of your love, your journey, and the unwavering bond that binds your souls together.

With a gentle touch, he reaches for your face, his fingertips tracing the path of your tears, a futile attempt to wipe them away amidst the mud and rain. Despite the grime that now marks his hands, his touch carries a tenderness that speaks volumes, a silent promise to be there for you, even in the messiest of moments.

He lifts you gently, his hands cradling your face as he meets your gaze with sincerity. “I’m so sorry for everything, love,” he murmurs, his voice carrying the weight of his remorse and the depth of his affection.

You gently shake your head, your eyes meeting his with a soft intensity. “I know you’re sorry, and I am too. But we’ve said sorry enough,” you whisper, your voice carrying a note of resolve. “I just want to look ahead, please.”

With a solemn nod, mud now smudging his hair further, he reciprocates your kiss, his lips molding against yours as if they were made for each other. His lips, soft and warm against yours, feel like a sanctuary, each beat of your heart syncing with the rhythm of his own.

You break the kiss, your fingers intertwining with his as you guide him to sit beside you, eager to admire the ring together. The sight of it takes your breath away; it’s not just beautiful—it’s downright stunning. The way it catches the limited light, shimmering with a brilliance that reflects your love, leaves you speechless.

“How long have you had it?” Your question lingers in the air, accompanied by the gentle patter of raindrops. You can’t help but smile, feeling like the luckiest person in the world, despite the downpour soaking you both.

His laughter dances in harmony with the rhythm of the rain, a melody of joy amidst the storm. As his hand navigates through his hair, smearing more mud across his face, you can’t help but join in, your laughter echoing through the downpour.

“You won’t believe me,” he chuckles nervously, a hint of mystery teasing his words. You playfully shove him on the shoulder, your laughter mingling with the pitter-patter of raindrops. Leaning into his sturdy frame, you find comfort against the backdrop of the truck, a sanctuary in the midst of the storm.

“Try me,” you tease, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you place your muddy hand over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your touch.

“I’ve had it for months,” he confesses, and you let out a gasp, pulling away to gaze at him with wide eyes, surprise painting your features.

“Shit, really?” You exclaim, disbelief evident in your voice. It’s hard to fathom that he’s been carrying the ring around for so long.

“I got it before Deiji came back and announced her pregnancy,” he confesses, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips, though a hint of sadness lingers in his eyes.

“I’m still sorry about that, but I’m also relieved that we don’t have to deal with that anymore, to be honest,” you confide, a wistful smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah. I know,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a weight of longing and resignation. “I was really looking forward to being a father, I guess.”

You gently cup his cheeks, locking eyes with him. “I know, love. But you can still be a father-– a father to our kids. I want everything with you, even kids. Maybe not right at this moment, but in the future, absolutely.”

You witness the spark in his eyes ignite, tears welling up and cascading down his cheeks, his whole being pulsating with emotion. Without hesitation, you draw him close, enveloping him in a tight embrace, sharing in his overwhelming moment of vulnerability and love.

“Thank you. I love you so much,” his words, though muffled against your shoulder, resonate deeply within you, carrying the weight of his love and gratitude. You hold him tighter, cherishing the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity in his voice as he expresses his boundless affection.

You gently stroke his back, feeling the rise and fall of his trembling breaths against your chest. With tender reassurance, you speak softly, your words carrying the weight of unwavering devotion. “You beautiful fool,” you murmur, “I love you so much too.”

As the rain continues to cascade around you, mingling with the mud beneath your feet, Jimin’s resourcefulness shines through. With a determined glint in his eye, he offers a solution amidst the downpour. “How about this,” he suggests, his voice cutting through the rain’s steady rhythm. “You take the wheel, and I’ll push the truck forward from the back.” His hands grip a sturdy piece of wood, strategically positioned beneath the wheels for added traction.

Feeling a surge of determination, you nod decisively and make your way to the driver’s seat. With a sense of purpose, you settle in, the familiar hum of the engine beneath you. Guiding the gear shift into place, you take a deep breath, your focus unwavering. As the engine roars to life, you ease your foot onto the accelerator, the truck finally inching forward with each determined push from Jimin’s hands against its frame.

With each concerted effort, the truck gradually inches forward, overcoming the resistance of the mud with each determined push. A surge of triumph floods through you as the tires find traction, guiding the vehicle back onto the solid ground of the road. As Jimin approaches, his eyes bright with pride and relief, he leans in and seals the moment with a tender kiss, a silent celebration of your shared victory.

His grin widens as he gazes at your hand, adorned with the beautiful ring, and then back up at you. “Do you want to take the wheel?” he asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

Your laughter fills the cabin, a delightful symphony against the drumming rain outside. “No way, not in this weather,” you chuckle, relinquishing the driver’s seat and venturing back out into the rain. Jimin flashes you a grateful smile as he settles back into the driver’s seat, ready to navigate the wet roads once more.

Through the rain-streaked windshield, he guides you home with a steady hand, the soft hum of the engine blending seamlessly with the pitter-patter of raindrops. In this tranquil cocoon of affection, words seem unnecessary as your love speaks volumes, enveloping you both in a comforting embrace.

With practiced precision, he guides the truck onto the familiar terrain of the yard, the rain still a faithful companion to your journey.

You both leap out of the truck, a contagious giddiness infusing your steps, your hand instinctively seeking Jimin’s as you scan the expanse of the ranch for your friends, the anticipation palpable in the air that mirrors the fluttering excitement in your hearts. You can’t wait to tell your friends and sister what has happened.

As you scour the house and comb through every corner of the property, your curiosity leads you to the stables. With a creak of the door, you’re greeted by a chorus of voices resonating from within, hinting at the presence of your friends.

You tread down the rustic aisle of the stables, the earthy scent of hay and sawdust swirling around you. There, amidst the soft glow of fluorescent light, you spot your sister, Jungkook, Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok engrossed in the meticulous task of cleaning out the stalls, their laughter echoing off the wooden beams.

You beam, your eyes catching Yoongi’s in the warm glow of the stable windows. His puzzled expression prompts a chuckle as he gestures towards your muddy attire, “What happened? You’re all covered in dirt.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling like the protagonist in some quirky romantic comedy. Grinning ear to ear, you confess, “We drove off the road.”

You observe as the guys down their tools, their attention instantly drawn to you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and worry.

Concern etches across your sister’s face as she strides over to you along the aisle, her voice soft with worry as she asks, “Are you okay?”

Grinning, you reassure them, “We’re all good. Managed to push the truck back on the road,” your laughter intertwining with the warmth of Jimin’s hand in yours.

Yoongi’s curiosity draws him closer, his eyes narrowing in on your beaming expression. “What’s got you grinning like a fool?” He prods, his voice a mix of amusement and genuine interest.

Yoongi’s playful smirk widens, his gaze shifting between you and Jimin. “Did you guys do it in the truck or something?” He teases, his tone laced with humor and a hint of mischief.

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at Yoongi's jest. “Nah, not this time,” you reply between chuckles, exchanging a knowing glance with Jimin.

“Gross,” Taehyung grunts in mock disgust from one of the stalls, his voice echoing playfully through the wooden space.

With a gleeful grin, you extend your left hand, showcasing the glimmering ring adorning your finger like a prized possession, the sunlight from the windows catching the gemstone and casting colorful reflections around the stable.

Yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise as they dart between the ring on your finger and Jimin’s face, his voice tinged with disbelief, “You proposed?”

Your sister practically shoves Yoongi away in her eagerness to get a closer look, grabbing your hand despite the mud, her eyes widening as she takes in the glinting ring. Then, her gaze shifts to Jimin, a mixture of joy and teasing in her voice, “You finally did it, huh? I’m so happy for both of you! Congratulations!”

You give Jimin and your sister a puzzled stare, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “What do you mean? Did you know he was going to propose?”

Your sister chuckles, her eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “Yeah, me and Jungkook knew. I saw Jimin in the jewelry store, and he showed the ring to me. It’s perfect, right?” As she speaks, Jungkook appears behind her, wrapping his arms around her in a loving embrace, a grin playing on his lips.

“It absolutely is,” you reply, wiggling your fingers and soaking in the sheer joy of the moment.

With no regard for the mud covering both of you, Yoongi envelops you in a tight embrace, drawing Jimin into the hug as well. “I’m so happy for both of you,” he declares, his voice thick with emotion. As he releases you and moves toward his boyfriend for a hug, you feel the warmth of his happiness lingering in the air.

As you prepare to return home, a strange sensation grips you, a reluctance to part ways with Jimin. Despite the completion of your ranch project and the fond memories made there with him, the idea of leaving him behind feels unsettling. You feel like you’re leaving a piece of your heart behind with him. Yet, it’s a decision you’ve both agreed upon, a part of the plan to return home.

You and your sister pull up to the two-story ranch, freshly painted and gleaming in the sunlight, and a wave of disbelief washes over you. The transformation is remarkable, almost surreal. Where once stood a weathered, tired structure now stands a vibrant testament to renewal and hard work. It’s as if you’ve arrived at the wrong address, the familiarity of the old ranch replaced by the unfamiliarity of its rejuvenated form.

Your sister’s voice breaks the momentary trance, her words a gentle reminder of the significance of the place. “Home sweet home,” she declares, stepping out of the truck, her tone imbued with warmth and nostalgia.

“Yeah,” you respond, the word carrying a weight you hadn’t intended. As you shut the truck doors, a melancholic sigh escapes you, a silent acknowledgment of the bittersweet feeling settling in your chest.

Stepping into the once-familiar yet now transformed house feels like entering a parallel universe. Everything appears unchanged on the surface, but the atmosphere is different, charged with an unfamiliar energy that leaves you feeling like an outsider in your own home. Memories, both joyful and sorrowful, linger in the air like whispers of a past life now distant and unreachable.

You trudge your way to the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed that feels foreign beneath you, devoid of the familiar impressions of nights past. Your gaze sweeps across the room, noticing the barren walls and the stark emptiness of the new dresser. It’s as if the fire that swept through, consumed every trace of the life you once knew, leaving only ashes in its wake. Anguish tightens your chest as you stare up at the ceiling, the truth settling in like a heavy weight on your shoulders—this place, this shell of a home, it’s not where your heart resides.

Nothing is home if Jimin isn’t there.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

49 notes · View notes

quinn-of-aebradore · 1 year ago

Text

@glossolali two for you!!! criminal AU I've done once here, so I'll put the snippet for that under a cut :3

home again, home anew is my long-time languishing "the wizards move in together after Aeor" fic. I started it probably a year and a half ago now and it's been a while since I've worked on it. M9 Reunited kinda jostled my plans and it's been tricky finding an angle to return to it with.

I don't think I've shared this little bit yet:

“This one is mine,” Caleb rapped on the door of the room farthest right. “And this is yours,” he stepped to the next door and opened it, gesturing for Essek to enter. He did, trying hard not to be awkward and hover. It had been fine up to that point but this was where he’d been staying. This room would be his. In the tower, such a thing wasn’t so hard to accept. That was an extradimensional space, technically temporary, rebuilt each time Caleb cast it. This was real, would remain here once twenty-four hours had gone by. The bed sat along the inner wall shared with Caleb’s room, a comforter spread neatly across it with a quilt folded at the foot. Three pillows rested at the head, looking in need of fluffing. The nightstands were bare and the wardrobe sat open and empty. “It’s not the tower but…” Caleb trailed off and Essek knew that sheepish smile of his was adorning his face. He turned and there it was. A soft one was offered in kind. “It’s lovely, Caleb. Thank you.” To his surprise, Caleb stepped forward and took his head in his hands. Pressed a kiss to his forehead then rested his against it. “Of course, Essek. You will always be welcome here.”

WIP Title Ask Game

As for the fake dating criminal AU...

To his credit, Oremid Haas’s office isn’t nearly as ostentatious as the rest of the Halls of Erudition. Earth tones and wood dominate the space and one wall is covered in wildlife photographs. “I always find it fascinating how the Assembly adorn their sanctums,” Widogast comments as the two of them enter, fingers skimming over the edge of a copper rabbit statuette. “I suppose I see the intrigue,” Essek wanders along one wall, idly picking up a piece of obsidian carved into a shark. After a moment’s consideration, he pockets it. “Have you robbed many of the Assembly, then?” Widogast snorts. “Not quite.” “Vague.” “I can’t give up all my secrets, Schatz.” Essek turns. “What have I said about endearments?” it’s a little playful and he can feel his cheeks turn plum again. “Technically, you only said I cannot call you Liebling.” With a sigh, Essek leans against the edge of Haas’s desk and meets Widogast’s gaze. “Let’s find this book, shall we?”

#essek thelyss #caleb widogast #shadowgast #quinn writes things #quinn answers #ask game

23 notes · View notes

galaxysodapopdraws · 2 years ago

Text

Alrighty, since I've written out some things out of my sonic au, Sonic Genesis, I'll reintroduce ya'll to the Parlouzer kids! Only two major things changed with them: 1. Tails is now part of Sonic's family being adopted by Paulie and Brenda. 2. I aged up Sonia and Manic to be 18 years old instead of 10 like before (they're still twins though!). Mostly because I've been doodling punk rock and emo outfits and thought it would suit them better. So here's some new things about them:

Sonic was around eight years old when he brought Tails home. He had found him all curled up in the woods all alone with only some Flickys watching over him. Paulie and Brenda at first searched to see if someone was looking for him but when no one claimed him they happily welcomed him into the family. They didn't name him Tails that was just a nickname Sonic gave him. Brenda was the one to name him Miles.

Sonia and Manic are in a emo punk rock band called "Chaos Underground", I currently have ideas for the band members but I need to draw them first. Both of them are porcupine/hedgehog hybrids but the dad is unknown (mom is Aleena). Sonia still has super strength and is still the more thoughtful of the two but can be bratty. She now also has a motorbike she uses to get the two around. Manic has no powers making him the only kid in the whole Parlouzer family to be powerless. But he is very cunning and skillful when it comes to hacking and thievery. Despite being in a well known band they actually don't make much money so they tend to do odd jobs whether good or bad. But babysitting is the easiest thing for them since they're great with kids.

Shard is an odd family member. Starting out as the Og metal sonic, he was rebuilt by chuck after showing there's good in him after saving sonic and tails. He was somewhat rebuilt in secret with only a few people knowing, but one day while chuck was fixing his power shard he cut his finger in it making his dna mix into shard's....shard. And thus a few hours later he became an organic striped tenrec. He can switch back and forth from metal to organic but prefers being organic most of the time. It took Chuck a while to accept him into the family but he's happy he did even though shard likes to annoy him a lot. Shard is also in a way Elias and Sally's step bro since Chuck is married to Nigel.

That's all I'm doing for now but I'll be back with more art soon!

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #shard the metal sonic #sonic underground #sonia the hedgehog #manic the hedgehog #tania the hedgehog #sonic au #sonic genesis #sonic fanart

129 notes · View notes

fancyfeathers · 1 year ago

Text

Society of Protection (Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x reader x original characters) (normalized yandere au)

Chapter six

To Dust You Shall Return

Prologue and oc intro

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

You sat in the lounge, a cup of tea in hand as you listen to Miss Jane and the rest of her organization explains everything. They started as a close knit friend group of Jane, Gaston, and Dr. Stevenson when Jane returned to Europe after her divorce with Fitzgerald or in other words, she got the divorce without him knowing, changed her name, and immediately ran away back to her home continent, and stayed hidden with her close friends help while they rebuilt her fortune. After that the three of them found other friends who were like them at galas, garden parties, and so on. They began working together and began this organized secret society with a shared goal, changing the society of the world.

You sat in stunned silence for a long moment, staring down at the brown liquid of the tea. Everyone sat for with you while you thought, waiting for you to say something, anything. You thought on what you have learned recently, Gaston’s words, Victor’s words, they both echoed in your mind…

“You can, you can, you just cannot let them get to you, (Name). They may run this society we call life but they do not own us .”

Don’t give up, no matter what happens. Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”

“Love, jealousy, hatred, burst out around us in harrowing cries. It is we who should be able to have control over those emotions for they are ours, ours to feel, ours to live, and ours to give.”

Are you really just gonna sit here and hear this and not want your life back, you wanted to have dreams, you wanted to have your own life.

Miss Jane places her gloved hand on your shoulder and spoke in her comforting, elegant voice. “Miss (Name), I understand. This is a lot, you can leave and forget all about this. If you want to go back to normal life you are always welcome for tea or-“

“I want to join.”

There was a silence in the room before Gaston chuckled and looked up, pushing his glasses up and leaning back on the couch. “Called it.” The youngest in the room, Alexandre you learned, groaned and reached into his pocket and handed Gaston a wadded up roll of cash. This earned Alexandre and Gaston a glare from both you, Jane, and Dr. Stevenson.

“Are you sure about this, you don’t have an ability. This will be dangerous, extremely dangerous.” Miss Jane asked, her voice worried but strong. “You will be risking everything, your livelihood, friends, famil-“

“Miss Jane, my family is gone, I don’t know where they are anymore. My friends are either kidnapped or dead. While I love Ms. Haruka, I work at a flower shop that gets five customers a day. I want to have a life, I want to go to college, get a degree in… something, I don’t know. But as of now I can’t… so to the world I say fuck you.” You rant on for a minute before taking a breath and heavily sigh. “I want in cause I have a dream, a dream to have a life. I know I don’t have an ability but I want to be of some use and not just sit on my ass and just let these things happen to me.”

Miss Jane reached out her gloved hand to you and smiled, almost a plotting smile, but not towards you, as if to someone not in the room “Well then welcome to the Society of Protection.”

You shook her hand, sealing your fate in this society.

—————————

Over the next few days you made a call to Ms. Haruka and you told her that you couldn’t continue your job at the flower shop for the time being, you told her that with your recent break in at your apartment that you were staying with friends while you waited for things to die down. She understood and went on a rant about how things aren’t the way they should be and you agreed with her and that you were always welcome back at the flower shop any time, you need only stop by.

You had also rode with Alexandre back to your old apartment to pick up a few essentials, since you officially moved into the guest bedroom at Miss Jane’s apartment. You grabbed a few sentimental items, family photos, childhood stuffed animals, and so on, but no electronics since those could easily be bugged or clothing since tracking devices could have been attached to the fabric. Miss Jane and Baroness Emma told you that they would be having a wardrobe made for you that fit the society’s standards of dress because in there words “just because we’re at the bottom of the food chain doesn’t mean we can’t camouflage to fit in.”

So you returned to the apartment building, and now to your realization headquarters, and up to Miss Jane’s apartment. She was sitting on the couch looking over a few files laid out on the table in front of her when you walked in. She didn’t look up to you when you came in but spoke up. “(Name) dear, they’re a few dresses and other outfits on your bed. Try them on and let me know which ones fit so I cam have more made in those measurements. Then at need to talk you, I have a job for you, Emma, and William.”

“Sure, just need to set this box down in my room first, Miss Jane” she only hummed in response as you left the room and into yours and on the bed stood stunning gowns and put together outfits, all laid out to match, but there was one that caught your eye, it was a simple outfit but lovely, a white button up with a red bow, green sweater vest, a long blueish gray coat, black pants, and brown leather boots. You slipped it on piece by piece and then looked at yourself in the full length mirror beside your bed, you looked like a strong independent woman, ready to take on the world, and that was perfect.

—————————

Now, all dressed up in your new clothes, you sat in the lounge with Miss Jane, Emma, and William. Miss Jane had laid out files out on the table, photos of guild members, notes, and a photo of a ship. Miss Jane glanced down at them before looking up at the three of you. “This is a simple reconnaissance mission. I have received word from our mole in the Port Mafia that they are going to eliminate Guild assets. Your job is to stake out at the docks today while they reload their ship and figure out if this rumor is true so just another passing by in conversation, or if this was a set up and our informant is a traitor. Since the detective agency has gone into hiding, anything could be on the table.”

“The detective agency has gone into hiding?” You were shocked, only a few days ago you were at their office, watching Victor loose it at the president. Miss Jane nodded in response to your question.

“Yes, Alexandre had stopped at their office only two days ago to see it completely empty of anyone. We were hoping to make some sort of alliance with them but I’m not so sure anymore between that out burst Victor had and Gaston’s research onto them we’re not sure if it’s wise to do so anymore.” There was a silence in the air before Miss Jane snapped herself back into it. “That’s besides the point you three are to stake out the…” Jane pauses before continuing. “The S.S. Zelda, and make note of any destruction that happens to it or to a Mr. Nathaniel Hawthorne or Ms. Margaret Mitchell. Split up if you must but you are by no means to engage in combat and only do so if it’s your only way out. You can take the files to read in the car on the way there. This meeting is concluded you are dismissed.”

—————————

You, Emma, and William sat on the second floor of a warehouse, you were set up in a window that faced the ship so while you had a clear view you could also duck if spotted. Before leaving the apartment William had given to a gun in case you need it and a vial of purple liquid in case you get caught, you weren’t sure what it was but everyone in the society always had one on them, apparently it was connected to Lewis Carrol’s ability that you didn’t know about.

As you three watched, nothing was happening, William had even pulled out another one of his plays to read to pass the time, then you noticed something, one of the workers was giving a letter to Nathaniel, interrupting an argument between him and Margaret you had no hope of listening to from this distance. You stepped your fingers at your coworkers and pointed out the window to the conversation none of you could hear.

“That letter from the Port Mafia?” William questioned, adjusting his glasses as the three of you looked out the window.

“Hard to say from this distance, since we don’t have any ears on that ship we’re out of luck, my dear.” Emma said with a sigh and ruffling the wrinkles in her dress. You paused at this and looked at the two of them.

“My dear? Are you two a thing?”

“We’re married.” William answered bluntly. “Well sort of. See no church would allow two darlings to married, not legally anyway. So we had a secret wedding between only the two of us, we said our vows, exchanged rings, and kissed, no one pronounced us husband and wife so we are only married in our hearts.”

Emma reached up and took his hand, brought it to her lips and kissed the palm of it. “One day my heart, one day we will have the wedding we deserve.”

You looked away with a slightly sad expression back to the window and watched once more. You hoped my joining this organization you could bring a wedding to William and Emma, giving them what they deserve. You watched as Nathaniel finished reading the letter and looked around the doc… wait there was no sense of urgency in his or Margret’s face, if anything they looked happy. It was unsettling, what did that letter say? The you saw it…

Nathaniel’s eyes were fixed on the window, your window. You panicked and grabbed Emma’s arm. “This was a set up, they know we’re here guys.”

Emma and William looked out the window, panic clear on their faces. You watched as Nathaniel took a sharp edge of a cross and cut his had letting the blood flow, but you didn’t pay to much attention as Emma was dragging you away from the window. “We have to get outside, I can use my ability to get us out of here once we’re outs-“

The shattering of glass of the window cut Emma off. You spun around and saw blood like blades almost had shattered the windows, was that Nathaniel’s ability? You looked close and saw words in it, what was this. You screamed as they approached you but luckily William pulled you out of the way in time. He pushed you and Emma behind him as you three ran. You and Emma pushed open the door, one street leading the the ship the other away, turn an alley and you’re at the car. Emma took the dagger that she kept on her and drew a slit on her arm, leaving a thin red line of blood behind. This blood began to turn into a fog and or mist like substance, red in color. “(Name) stay close to me you have never experienced my ability befo- AHHHH!”

Emma was cut off by her own scream when one of these blood like ribbons from Nathaniel came and wrapped itself around her bleeding arm, stopping the mist, and the hand that held the dagger, stopping her from cutting herself again. You could hear the sound of footsteps approaching as William threw himself in front of you and Emma, you could barely process his words, letting you to run until you were already a block away, panting and gasping for breath.

—————————

Emma could feel her throbbing arm and heartbeat with Nathaniel’s ability wrapped around her arm. She saw you running, listening to William’s words. She could head the footsteps of Nathaniel and Margaret approaching but she couldn’t do anything anymore. She dropped the dagger as she felt Nathaniel’s ability drag her back towards him. She tried to reach a hand out to William but she just wasn’t strong enough, and now she was restrained in front of Nathaniel with Margaret walking towards William. Nathaniel kneeled down to her who had fell on the ground while begging dragged over to him. He reached out his hand to Emma’s face caressing it gently before his eyes narrowed at something. He trailed his thumb up over Emma’s lips, smudging her lipstick off. He rubbed the red material between his fingers before sighing. “We’ll be having no more of that. I don’t need my darling dressing herself up like a harlot.”

“DON’T YOU DARE CALL MY WIFE SUCH THINGS!”

William was fueled only by rage now, his mind blank to Margaret walking towards him. Nathaniel heavily sighed and looked over the Margaret. “Take care of your darling, William was it?”

“With pleasure.” At Margaret saying those two words, William drew the silver thin sword that rested on his hip, and as soon as he drew it vines began to grow on it, along with roses at produced a red sap, a deadly poison that only William could cure, this was his ability, Roses and Thorns. Emma smirked as she watched Margaret stop dead in her tracks. “How dare you draw that blade, hurt me, Buttercup, and you will be punished.”

“Not until my wife is free, for she is my light and my life!” William shouted, he gripped the hilt tightly before lunging at Margaret, his sword aiming at her gut. Out of the employees that were watching, one of them jumped up and shoved Margaret out of the way. Margaret and Nathaniel watched in horror and Emma with hope in her eyes as William’s sword drove through the employee’s flesh like butter, and coming out in the back of the employee. He spat out blood as William pulled his sword out and let the body fall to the ground. William pushed the body over with his foot so Margaret and Nathaniel could see the body, veins turning purple and black from the wound, the poison already taking affect. William looked up, a shadow cast over her face, his eyes dark, an expression of pure rage. “Will you provoke me? Then have at me, m’lady!”

“You have one job in life, do it and you live a perfect life. Instead what you do is fight for what? A disgrace of a woman that is not yours?” Margaret said, her voice pissed off at the sword wielding man. This knocked William over the edge, he raised up his leg and kicked Margaret in the ribs, knocking the air out of her lungs. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath and before she could get up there was a sword pointed right at her neck, William’s sword.

“I will not hesitate to kill you, slit your throat so that my poison reaches your brain, killing you almost instantly. Luckily I am not in the mood to spill anymore blood today, so I will offer you two a deal.” William glanced over to Nathaniel who was still restraining Emma. “I will spare Ms. Margaret Mitchell’s life, it you free my rose, my Emma.”

“How dare you, you have ground to stand on, you have no-“ William cut her off by tilting her head up with the dull end of his sword.

“I hold your life in my hands, it is you Ms. Mitchell. That is what I stand on.”

Nathaniel cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses, his eyes fixed on William and Margaret. “Lady Margaret’s favorite bible verse is simple.” A confused expression came across William’s and Emma’s faces as Nathaniel speaks. “And to dust you shall return.”

With that a wicked smile came across Margaret’s face as she looked up and made direct eye contact with William, sending a shiver down his spine. Margaret snapped her fingers and almost instantly William’s sword, his ability, disappeared before his eyes, turning into ash. Now William was left vulnerable, without a weapon to act as a medium William had no ability. Margaret stood up from the ground, dusting off her dress. “Now that is better, buttercup. Looks like I will have to teach that behavior out of you. Now…”

Margaret snapped her fingers and a few of the employees of the guild came running and restrained the shocked and horrified William then and there, cuffs were placed on his hands. Margaret strutted forward and grabbed William’s chin, her fingers digging uncomfortably into his skin. She looked him over and sighed. “Seems like we have some work to do. Come along now.”

With that the guild men began dragging William along. Emma was dragged to stand up by Nathaniel’s harsh hand on her arm, her own wrists, restrained by his ability. They were lead up onto the deck of the ship, then Nathaniel saw something, he took Emma’s hand and roughly snagged off the wedding ring she wore. Emma’s eyes grew in horror as she watched Nathaniel throw it over the edge of the ship, into the waters of the sea. Emma was stunned into horrified silence. Soon Margaret did the same with William who was just as horrified as his wife as he watched his wedding band fall over the edge, lost to the water. A tear fell down his face as William spoke, it was a line from a show he had been in, one that Emma knew well “What angel shall bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear and loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath of greatest justice.”

Silent tears fell down Emma’s face as she heard this, and the two lovers were separated, looking over their shoulders to one another till they were out of view.

—————————

Emma was taken to Nathaniel’s room where had a bath drawn for her. He make her undress in front of him as to make sure sure was not hiding anything from him in her clothes, which were then taken from her because they were in his words, “inappropriate for the darling of a preacher.” He also ‘helped’ her bathe, this help in reality was harsh scrubbing to move sure she had not an inch of makeup on her skin, and scratching at her hair to get the unnatural curls and hairspray out that she had done this morning. It felt dehumanizing.

After all this, she was given a white bathrobe to wear while he had some of the guild men pick up some other clothes for her, it was comfortable and at least covered her body so that she may retain some of her dignity. Now she sat on Nathaniel’s bed while he combed out her damp hair. She did not speak to him while he made slight comments here and there about how wearing makeup conceals the natural beauty god has given you, or how she had been blinded by Miss Austen’s delusions.

“How did you know that we would come?” Emma broke he silence as Nathaniel took a ribbon to tie up her hair.

“One moment. Stay still.” He said as he was pulling up her hair tightly together as he began to wrap the hair up. The two sat in silence while he tied up her hair to keep it out of her face before he stood up and walked over to the dresser in the room and took the letter he had set on top of it and handed it to her. With shaking hands she took it and opened it and it read

Dear Sir and Madam,

I hope that this letter finds you in the best of health. At the risk of sounding presumptuous, I wish to inform you of the assets we are about to give you from an organization you may be familiar, the Society of Protection, or simply known as the Society. The full list of these aforementioned assets are as followed. First, the life of one Emma Orczy, second the life of one William Shakespeare, and third the Society escape strategy which is found with both Miss Orczy and Mr. Shakespeare. They will staking out in one of the nearby warehouses by the time you receive this letter, under the false truth that the Port Mafia is going to attack your luxury liner. I tell you this because we know that this “secret” organization will be just as much a thorn in our side as yours.

Sincerely, boss of the Port Mafia,

Ougai Mori

As Emma finished, Nathaniel took the vial of purple liquid from Lewis Carroll that Emma had tucked away in her dress and spun it around, looking it over. She looked up in horror as she then watched him open the cork, walk over to the window and pour it out. “We’ll be having none of that because I can only assume that was the escape strategy he was referring to, yes?”

Emma could only nod as she choked on a sob as tears welled up in her eyes as she realized there was no hope of getting out of this damned place. She could only watch out the window as the luxury liner set out into the sea.

—————————

As the ship set off into the sea a figure watched from the port. It was a young man dressed in a black coat that matched his hair, well most of it since the tips of it has gone white. With no expression he watched the ship get farther and farther from the port. He pulled out a phone from his coat and dialed a number. The person answered…

“It’s done.”

“Wonderful, those two are quite large threats to our organization, that whole society as a whole is but those two specifically have skills beyond just their abilities that could destroy us.” The voice… the doctor… but of course you had no idea this conversation was even happening.

“Yes, but there was one more person with them, a young woman. I believe she went by (Name). She got away, but I don’t think she has an ability.”

“Ahhh so the flower shop girl is a member of the society? How interesting. That explains why our spies haven’t seen her at work for the last few days. Looks like the Society has a new player entering this game.”

—————————

You had made it back to the apartment complex in one piece, rushing to Miss Jane’s side and explained everything between tearful sobs. Miss Jane held you in an embrace almost like a mother’s as you cried, reassuring you that this wasn’t your fault and how it was her mistake for falling into a trap.

“Why don’t you go take a bath and you can relax for tonight.” Miss Jane smiled and stood up. “I’ll have Joan bring a pot of tea to your room for you after.”

“Thank you, Miss Jane.” You said, wiping away the last of your tears. “Thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome (Name), now I have a meeting with Gaston. I will be back in a while.” You watched as Miss Joan walked off into the front entry, saying a few words to Joan and then opening the door and stepping off into the hallway and down to Gaston’s apartment. You sighed and went off the the bathroom to relax for a bit. Meanwhile Miss Jane went off to Gaston’s apartment and knocked on the door. Soon Gaston answered to see Miss Jane, tears falling down her face but still standing tall. “Can I come in, old friend?”

Gaston’s eyes widened and let Miss Jane in and walked her over to his couch and once the two of them sat down she started sobbing in Gaston’s arms. He held her in his arms, like that of an older brother holding his little sister. Her wales echoed off the halls and her voice sounded like she was just stabbed in the heart. Gaston knew she would come, he already had a hunch that something like this would happen as soon as the society received word about the guild, but it still hurt. Miss Jane offered you comfort and now she needed it. The society was like her family, her kids, and when her kids get hurt, this mother gets hurt.

Gaston held Miss Jane until she eventually cried herself to sleep, he called Alexandre over to carry Miss Jane back to her apartment and tucked her back in bed. On their way out they heard your voice. “Alexandre, Gaston, is Miss Jane alright?”

The two men looked at each other, unsure how to answer. Gaston sighed and spoke up, shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid not. She… she has been a lot. Fitzgerald is probably going to throw more low punches, trying to knock the wind out of Miss Jane’s sails, until she gives up.” Gaston sighs and jams his hands in his pockets. “Look I’m gonna go for walk, might get a drink, I just need to get out of here for a bit.” Gaston turned his back on the two of you, his mood completely different from the Gaston you first met, it’s almost like the life has left his body. “Don’t worry I won’t get drunk.”

You walked Gaston leave the apartment leaving you and Alexandre in the dark apartment, only lit by the mood light. Alexandre looked out the window and out over the city streets before the two of you. “The Guild has really knocked Gaston down, I haven’t seen him like this in a long time.” You looked over at Alexandre with a curious expression and saw his face completely serious, but his blue eyes dazzled in the moon light like sapphires. “Last time I saw him like this was three years ago, I was sixteen, and just lost everything to my name. My money, family, friends. Miss Jane took me in and at the time Gaston was helping the European Union hunt down a man, a mad genius, his mind rivaled Gaston’s and they were running circles around each other. Then the man got away and Gaston couldn’t live with himself, he stopped his work in the Society and focused only on his music… he almost lost himself.”

“What was the man’s name?”

“Gaston never actually met him, he was always just out of reach but from what Gaston told me his name was…” Alexandre looked from the moonlit sky over to you, his dazzling blue eyes making contact with yours. “ Fyodor Dostoevsky”

The name itself sent shivers down your spine, what if this work leads you to one day face Gaston’s old foe? You pushed that thought aside and continued on your conversation. “You also said Miss Jane took you in, are you like her son?”

“Kinda, she is my adoptive mother on paper. When she first came back to Europe after her divorce she came with Dr. Stevenson to an orphanage cause they heard a gifted child was there. Me.” He paused and lead you down the hallway to a room you have never been to before, Miss Jane’s study. It’s what you would expect from this place, beautiful, but on the fireplace stood a large portrait, it was of Miss Jane with a younger looking Alexandre by her side. “She was the first real support I had after loosing everything and over the course of the next year she helped me get it back from the dirt up. I reclaimed my family’s land, fortune, and title, I am the Count of Montecristo. Miss Jane’s and my relationship is the Society’s best kept secret, not everyone in this building knows about it, only me, Miss Jane, Gaston, Victor, Dr. Stevenson, and now you.”

“I see, but why are you telling me this?”

He looked at you with a smile and placed his hand atop your shoulder. “Cause I trust you, you are taking back what is yours just like I did, I see myself in you. Along with that Miss Jane trusts you, and I trust Miss Jane more than anyone on this damn planet.” He sighs and pats you on the head with a smile and an eye roll. “Miss Jane taught me when you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you will never want to live again, only to dream forever. The things is that people like us can’t dream so that we only know this world of sorrows, my hope is that one day we can have the freedom to dream once more and shape this work so that we’ll want to live again and dream both in the day and at night. If I had a dream that would be it.”

“I see, I think I’d like that.” You said smiling, looking right into Alexandre’s blue, sapphire like, eyes. “I think I’d like to help you make that dream a reality.”

“Good cause we’ll need all the help we can get.” He smiled and gave you one more pat on the head. “Training starts at 7:30 tomorrow morning, if you want a better future you need to be able to fight for it. I mean that both literally and figuratively.”

—————————

Gaston had made his way to the streets of Yokohama, to the train station taking the train to Ginza, Tokyo, now he finds himself at a bar, Bar Lupin. It was an odd place, in a basement, no windows, and a strange cat lurking nearby. Gaston ordered a whiskey, he usually drank while he composed, a glass on wine while he writes music notes. He was all alone in this room besides the bartender and the cat, the underground design of the place reminded Gaston of the vault of the Paris Opera House, oh how he missed that place, it was home to him.

Gaston heard the door open and someone came and sat down at the bar, next to Gaston. “Didn’t think you would be here, composer.” Gaston knew that voice, it was Dazai. “Haven’t seen your flower friend since she stopped at the detective agency, heard from her boss that she quit after her apartment was broken into.” Gaston smirks and raised his glass to his lips as Dazai spoke, just listening to him. “I also found out about your work with the European Union but still haven’t figured out your ability.”

“I figured.” Gaston said setting the glass down, now empty. Gaston glanced over to Dazai with a wide smile. “Sad your agency didn’t look into the break in, I suggested to (Name), just to help you bunch with what comes next.”

“Hm? What are you on about, darling.”

“Va te faire enculer.” Gaston swore at Dazai in his native tongue and sneered at that nickname and rolled his eyes. “Thought you would have picked it up by now.” Gaston set the payment on the counter for the bartender to collect and slipped off his jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll let you put it together, my work for the European Union, that apartment break in, Miss (Name) leaving her job…”

“…You mean-“

“Yes, I do.” Gaston said as he stood up and slipped on his jacket and began making his way to the door of the bar, glancing over his shoulder to look at Dazai. “The demon Fyodor Dostoevsky, is in Yokohama.”

(A/N- Va te faire enculer- go fuck yourself)

#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #original character x reader #bungou stray dogs oc #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere dazai #yandere chuuya #yandere mark twain #yandere mori ougai #yandere Fukuzawa #Yandere Edgar Allan Poe #Yandere John Steinbeck #yandere fyodor

26 notes · View notes

indecisive-dizzy · 5 months ago

Note

Hi pookie I ORDERED A WALLY PLUSHIE :DDDD

He’s coming home I’m so happy :,3

So in celebration have some Flora/Wally headcanons

Flora holds him like a teddy bear. She carries him around and holds him up like a kitty

Whenever he falls, she’s quick to pick him up so he doesn’t lay there for hours

Flora steals apples from Howdy’s store under her hat and gets away with it cause Daisey distracts him with conversation. She never even eats the apples, she just gives them to Wally

Flora is uncomfortable around Home, but she tolerates it for Wally’s sake. Cause that’s literally his house. She kinda has to be around Home to be around Wally most of the time

Besides Julie, Wally’s the only other person to see Flora with horns. He proceeds to paint her with them every time he paints her and she can’t even complain cause she finds it adorable

Unrelated but I’m changing Honey’s lore, he’s now Aunt Toodaloo’s son for no reason other than it fits. He is now the sassy shitty cousin who shit talks everyone

I imagine on a beach episode that the two of them either sit on floaties in the water, sit in the shade and stare at everyone’s shenanigans, or they make sandcastles together

Wally tried to braid Flora’s hair once, but he ended up tangling it really bad so she has to cut a giant knot out of her hair. Luckily her hair is super dark and thick so it wasn’t noticeable, but he didn’t braid it after that

I think Flora gets sad in secret really often, so she just hugs him like a teddy bear. He comforts her

He doesn’t find her scary. Even when she’s trying to scare people, he won’t find her scary. He just thinks “Miss Flora @:)”

Hand size difference! Her hands a large (human sized) and cold, while his hands are small and warm. They hold hands often, it calms them down

He’s seen her whole demon/ink spirit form before, it just reminds him of Home and So Below so he isn’t creeped out

Both self aware, but while Wally’s silent about it with the neighbors, Flora is constantly making jabs and mentions to it that no one notices besides Eddie and Wally/Home

Daisey notices too but they get taken apart and rebuilt without any memories of being self aware, so they never remember

She can give herself fangs, so he paints them sometimes and everyone corrects him that she doesn’t have fangs. But she does and he paints them :)

She doesn’t sleep and he can’t sleep properly, so they have sleepovers where they don’t sleep and just paint the whole night

Unrelated also but I’m experimenting with ads and products that can be advertised with my ocs. Specifically Daisey with “cheery pills”, which are actually antidepressants that are being advertised to the adult parents watching. I think it helps with the implications that Daisey uses them and how it seems innocent but the problem and reason why they use them is deeper than it’s portrayed. I think it’s a neat idea :3

She has a couple other outfits she only ever wears to hang out with either Daisey or Wally (and sometimes Barnaby), and they’re either what a cartoon teacher would wear, or just matching outfits cause why not

Matching hair clips are a need, they have like 30

She’s not the best artist, but she tries for him

Flora is fr just the teacher friend, she’s always teaching these dumbasses something. She might as well have a school at this point

I’m low on ideas but they :3

also I’m exploring more Daisey aus outside of welcome home

Like- I made a Butcher Daisey au i made with like hella lore I still need to really formulate into a cohesive story but I’ve got a design and a whole drag/formal attire for them and just- aughhhhh I love Daisey Dollops so much that’s my baby 😭

WOOHOO!! I hope the little peanut has a safe journey to you!

Wally is the perfect size for holding,, Flora is so lucky sigh

Gift giving love language but also stealing for them <3 we love crimes

I'm defending Aunt Toodaloo, she doesn't know how Honey ended up like that >:'/ but she still loves him ofc

hand size difference 🥺 that's so cute

need some of those cherry pills- cough

Yay OC Aus! They're so fun,, if I got nearly as invested in my lil guys as I do other characters,, I couldn't imagine how many I would have. I'd have no space on my phone it'll all be taken by my notes app

#we are ignoring how late this is. for my mental health.#Seriously tho I'm so glad you got a Wally!! Thats awesome!#and he's the special 2.0 gah thats so freaking cool!!#I'm in a waiting room rn so I'll get to ur other 2 asks in a bit 😭😭#im as bad at answering these as i am texting sob #neon child #dizztalkstoomuch #moot oc #welcome home #wally darling

4 notes · View notes

officialhunterthefox · 2 years ago

Text

Astro/Astrology AU (Or alien au if You wanna call it that)

Welcome home au my silly brain came up with. 🫶

Wally darling - Snail alien

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AAU Wally is very calm and neat on his planet. His whole entire planet is a canvas (hence the name ‘Lienzo.’)

Home - A Wrecked Spacecraft that mysteriously rebuilt itself into a house.

I hope this fandom will accept this little au ❤️…

(Sharing is fine as long as I get credit! Spread the word of Astro!Wally if you’d like..🙂)

[AU still in progress]

#welcome home #officialhunterthefox #welcome home au #welcome home wally #wally darling #silly guy #welcomehomeauwally #welcome home arg #welcome home puppet show #welcome home fandom #fandom #au art #welcomehomeastroau #wh wally #wally fanart #wally welcome home #au #aauwelcomehome #astroauwelcomehome

11 notes · View notes

newhawkinshq · 1 year ago

Text

WELCOME TO NEW HAWINS , INDIANA.

a modern au stranger things discord rp.

seven years ago , the last fight against vecna and eleven had taken place. half of hawkins was destroyed and many casualties had taken place. among those casualties were : eleven , will byers , dustin henderson , robin buckley , and argyle but even among the grief - there was a feeling of relief. with will's help , eleven had finally defeated vecna and the connection between the real world and the upside down was finally closed. as the years went on , hawkins rebuilt but the memory of those lost felt fresh to many. the summer night felt like any other ; except for the eerie green light that filled the night sky from lover's lake. and upon the misty morning , something felt off. and when max mayfield finally opened her eyes from her seven year coma , billy hargove was standing over her hospital bed - will byers was waking up in his dust covered bed , robin buckley was jolted awake by a scream from a long lost friend , eddie munson was dazed and confused as he sat in the rust covered van in the woods near a once trailer park , barbara holland was seen staggering away from the backyard of steve harrington's home.... new hawkins would never be the same as those that had been lost are suddenly back as if no time had passed. older but with no memory of the time after their deaths.... everyone has to learn how to live again and everyone has to learn how to deal with the eerie feeling around the returned and how to deal with their sudden emotions of them. after all ; grief changes people.

all muses are 21+. muns must be 20! lgbtqa+ friendly! s/fw and n/sfw channels! friendly and drama free environment OC's allowed but can not intertwine with canon characters unless plotted with that character's mun first! small group. 15 mun cap. taken characters: eddie , chrissy , steve , robin , tommy h. , mike , max , will most wanted: billy , dustin , argyle , jonathan , lucas , nancy , alexei!

if you are interested in joining ; please react to this post and you will be dmed with the details!

#new rp #stranger things rp #discord rp #canon rp

4 notes · View notes

darkdoverpseeker · 1 year ago

Note

📻 WELCOME TO NEW HAWINS , INDIANA.

a modern au stranger things discord rp.

all muses are 21+. muns must be 20! lgbtqa+ friendly! sfw and nsfw channels! friendly and drama free environment OC's allowed but can not intertwine with canon characters unless plotted with that character's mun first! small group. 15 mun cap.

if you are interested in joining ; please react to this post and you will be dmed with the details!

interact if interested!

#group rp #server rp #stranger things rp #stranger things roleplay #20+#spicy #discord rp #rp #roleplay

1 note · View note

forge-rpg · 8 months ago

Text

THE WORLD IS BURNING.

The world is in flames. You cannot clearly recall seeing it with your own eyes, but everyone says that the world is burning. You remember feeling the fire, the warmth on your skin, urgent. You remember the large leather saddle on the back of the dragon. You don’t remember your home. This is your home now - you have no choice. It’s the only place that’s safe. Even secluded on an island that acts as a sanctuary from the fires that rage across the lands beyond, there is an impending doom. Even safe here… you are not. And it is up to you to protect the land that protects you.

The rest of the world, as far as anyone knows, is still ablaze. You can try to leave, but strangely, the dragons won't let you out further than the reef. They have flown from... somewhere. From beyond the waters. They know what's out there, and they want to protect you, like they will protect their land.

FORGE is an 18+ literate, plot-driven, multi-fandom roleplay server that lives on Discord, and takes place in an alternate universe. Characters from different source medias, settings and times can meet and interact in this supernatural - dystopian - royalty AU.

Here in the Forge, native residents scramble to do everything they can to revere the spirits via their constant fires, via the magical creatures, or via ritual sacrifices of foods and materials, according to royal decrees. The crown has historically been tasked with being the mediator between the land and the spirits said to keep this land from burning to ash - they were the only ones who could.

The spirits invite you to explore rebuilt and abandoned cities alike, and make homes in burned, broken neighborhoods as you get to know the dragons and the cacti, both the magic and the mundane of the Forge. Help fight to keep the planet alive, or rise up against the oligarchy, the true source of the Forge’s oppression. Attend school for writing or art, or find an apprenticeship in an island-wide revered forge to contribute to the economy. Settle unfinished business or start completely fresh. Fight or climb your way up the social ranks, work for marks to buy and trade, or hunker down and wait for love to find you.

The aim of this server is to be a low-stress, relaxed space for writing, hanging out, discussing beloved fandoms.

Forge aspires to work together to create an exciting overarching plot that all characters are able to get involved with if their writers want them to! However, writers are welcome to use the server as a playground for slice of life content and character development.

Explore your characters! Enjoy community! Explore the world in 40 RP channels! Have fun and satisfy your supernatural needs! Contribute to a constantly growing plot! NSFW friendly (but not required)

#roleplay #discord roleplay #discord rp #literate rp #18+ rp #mfrp #discord mfrp #mfrpg #multifandom rp #dystopian au #royalty au #roleplay ad

1 note · View note

hazel-of-sodor · 2 years ago

Text

All my Stories So far

Here is every Fanfic I’ve written for TTTE/RWS so Far!

Multie Chapter Fics:

Gaurdian- Tumblr / AO3 On a cold midnight run, Thomas's crew are thrust into an unexpected quest to help a fallen engine complete its final run.

A Life Well Lived- Tumblr/Ao3 In 1956, Sir Topham Hatt I is given a terminal diagnosis by his doctor. Upon hearing the news, Thomas asks him and Lady Jane Hatt to come with him on a trip. Its time for them to learn a secret hes been keeping from them for almost 15 years.

A Screech in the Night- In the dying days of Steam, a small railway in rural Wales is visited by a Shadow.

A Western Summer- When a storm ravages in the island in 1976, the Ffarquhar Branch is split in two, and the line's No.1 is transfered to the Little Western...

Sodor Lightshow 2024

Traintober 2024

List-(I'm not adding 62 links to this post, it's already breaking)

Traintober 2023

Day 1-A Day Off

Day 2-Closed

Day 3-More than One

Day 4-Returns and Regrets

Day 5-Down a Well

Day 6-Summons

Day 7-Fire

Day 8-Seagull Line

Day 9-The Fallen Light

Day 10-Never a Dull Moment

Day 11-Exhausted

Day 12-Of Reds and Ones

Day 13-Corris

Day 14-The Best Day

Day 15-Recovered

Day 16-Too Late

Day 17-Snow

Day 18-Rebuilt

Day 19-The Chocolate Zephyr

Day 20-Lively Polly

Day 21-Rescue

Day 22-Succession

Day 23-Greater than Yourself

Day 24 Stuck

Day 25-RMS Aquitania

Day 26-Loss

Day 27-Thomas and the Rocket Sled

Day 28-Home Now

Day 29-Rise Above

Day 30-Everest

Day 31-For What We Fall

Headcanons:

Betla the Steam Outline

Why Thomas is called an E2

Thomas the Engine Thief

Eric backstory

Sad Story of Henry

Diesel 10 heacanons

Henry headcanons

Sheila headcanon

Hiro Headcanon

Gordon Whistle Headcanon

Gordon keeps adopting pacifics

Emotional Support Diesels

The Concept of Family in British locomotives

LNER U1 Garratt Typhoon

Big Emma/Bertha

Sodor in the Age of Social Media

1. Edward

2. Henry

The Cronk and Harwick

Founding to 1914

The Great War

The Quiet Years

The Coal Rush

Star Trek

Enterprise F

Ask Prompts:

Prompt 1 (Dissonance): Impulse- @tigerhawk7109

Prompt 2 (Hazel): Lockdown- @predawnrex04

Traintober 2022:

Night Owl Saga-

Day 3:Owl-Owl by Night

Day 1:Moon-Under the Pale Light

Day 2:Breakdown-Realization

Enaid-

Day 4:Spirit-A Helping Spirit

Day 20:Death-Enaid

One Shots-

Day 5:Out of Service-Reignition

Day 6:Cat-Catnap

Day 7:Bump-Fair Play

Day 11:Jinx-Superstitions

Day 12:Poltergeist-Once A Railway Man

Day 14:Rest in Pieces-Not Again

Day 15:Destination-34090

Day 17:Angel-Of Snow and Angels

Day 21:Stranger-Stranger in my Own Body

Day 23:Squeak-Fidget

Day 24:Mind the Gap-Divide

Day 26:Overgrown-Promise

Day 27:Boulder-Little Problems

Day 28:Last Stop-Sodor, to Welcome You Home

Day 29:Fiery Skys-By His Light

Day 30:Vengeance-The Setup

D5701 Saga-

Day 8:Disgrace-Fall from Glory

Day 10:Torch-All Our Sins

Great Northern-

Day 9:Brace for Impact-To Catch a Lunchbox

Day 13:Lost-No Way to Lose

Lady of Legend-

Day 16:Shadow-A New Legend

Day 19:Fog-Clarity

The Beast-

Day 18:Demon-The Beast

Day 31:The End-Burn

Tornado-

Day 22:Cold Iron-Not Alone

Day 25:Storm-Legacy

The Great North Western Railway

(Swindon Au)

A Swindon Arrival

#ttte #ttte fanfic #RWS #rws fanfic #traintober #traintober22 #traintober2022 #traintober 2022 #hazel is evil #Hazel gives her beta trauma #to be expanded #hopefully

49 notes · View notes

and-so-he-rambled · 2 years ago

Text

Excerpt from my mess of an Au Mighty Marcus

(Context: Marcus was found in the rubble and taken to Mighty Med. The staff are welcoming and Oliver and Kaz take him under their wings. They are largely unaware of Marcus’s backstory aside from a barebones idea of an evil guy making him. Henry Tidwell (Titanio) the resident tech genius takes on a mentor roll. He knows where Marcus came from because of his circuitry, but doesn’t care. Marcus works in the tech sector of Mighty Med while trying to figure out his place.)

“I’m not meant for this world.” It was such a dramatic statement, but a true one. Marcus didn’t belong in any world, not even the one he’d been created for. He didn’t belong among the ‘normos’ or the supers, he was an outlier.

Henry sighed, looking at him from across the wrought iron table that was slightly off balance. The pizza place wasn’t high end or fancy, a hole in the wall joint that smelled like spice and pasta sauce and played Italian music softly from a record player. It wasn’t the kind of place a man like Henry fit in at with his tailored suit, but at the same time was a place so like him. Marcus was learning that people were deeper than he thought. Henry said it was his ai learning, he was pretty sure he was just finally seeing the real world.

“Have you ever read my comics?” He asked through a bite of greasy cheese pizza. Marcus had, back what he was archiving, but he hadn’t actually processed any information.

“Well, I never fit in either, too smart for my own good and a bit of an asshole. I refused my fathers company to fly planes, and I was damned good. Up until I got myself stranded in the outer atmosphere and realized nobody would be coming to get me.” Henry sighed, looked haggard at the memory. He’d never seen Henry look remorseful for anything, it didn’t seem in his character.

“How did you get out?” Marcus had a theory, he was a genius after all, but humans were surprising creatures.

“I nearly died, but somewhere in that desperation I remembered that I was good for something, and that was building. I made a suit, a modified space suit of scraps and canabalized ship, and I look a leap of faith.”

Marcus leaned in, invested.

“I survived, obviously, but that suit was a peice of junk.” He laughed, even as he unbuttoned his dress shirt to pull back and show his shoulder. There was a seam, jarring an imperfect, just below his shoulder joint. “I had a rough landing.”

“Is that..?” Marcus scanned it, seeing cybernetics under synthetic skin. Henry was like him, if only just.

“Yep! Made it myself, except for the skin, never could figure out skin. So I got home, and nobody had realized I had truly gone missing for that month. I took the company back and tried to cope.” There was a shine in his eye, one of pure mischief. “And then I realized I could make a difference. I rebuilt my suit and became Titanio. With no idea of a superhero world or the fact comics were already being printed, I became a hero. Most supers hated me, a normo wearing a suit and fighting their battles. Some still do.”

Marcus had noticed that, how even some superheroes gave Oliver and Kaz the cold shoulder for being humans in the realm of gods. He thought it was stupid. Humans may be weak and inferior, but Kaz and Oliver, and Henry it seemed, had proven themselves. They were more heroic than his pathetic siblings.

“What did you do about it?” Marcus would have made them suffer to prove his worth, but Henry set down his pizza and fixed him with a stare that felt piercing down to the microchip.

“I proved them wrong, became the best I could. I turned a failing company into a tech giant, saved every penny I had and put it into my company and my suit. I was supposed to just be some human engineer meant to die in space.” Henry winked, returning his focus to his pizza like he hadn’t already packed away several pieces.

Marcus knew what he was implying. He hadn’t been built to last, a pet project instead of a son. His birthright was to die.

“I’m not hero material.” He wasn’t, he really wasn’t. He’d been created for destruction, and he’d always destroy what he touched. This peace had to be temporary. He’d met real heroes, seen them risk everything to save people Marcus didn’t see as worthy of saving. He couldn’t become that.

“Then don’t be. Be something else, you have quite the brain, kid. Save people in your own way. Also drink your water slower, refills cost money.” Always a penny pincher, even in his heartfelt moments. Marcus couldn’t help a laugh, a noice that startled him. Laughter was such a new experience, so far from the maniacal cackling he was used to. It felt nice, warm.

“Can we go to the company after?” His eyes shined at the prospect of poking around in Henry’s lab, a place he was becoming familiar with. It was so much more advanced than his area at Mighty Med! Maybe he could bully Tidwell Tech into donating equipment, god knows they needed it after last weeks budget cuts.

Henry smiled, a genuine fondness that confused Marcus as much as it pleased him. He was wary of anyone trying to fill the void Douglas left, but the new men in his life were weird. Horace with his distant caring and occasional attaboys that reminded him of his dad, but a real excitement for his hobbies that Douglas never had. Henry, so much like his father but also very different, who never tried to be a parental force and considered him an equal, a person.

“Sure kid. I need your help tweaking his gauntlets, they’ve been off since that battle with Soul Slayer last week, I think he knocked something loose.” He’d also fractured Henry’s wrist but the human never seemed to dwell on injury.

It was such a show of weakness, or, what did Oliver call it? Good faith? An offer to work on the man’s prized possession, the thing that made him a hero.

Marcus wouldn’t disappoint him. He still wasn’t a hero, or even a good person, but he wouldn’t betray Henry’s trust unless he was given a reason to. Mighty Med was a Eden, he wouldn’t be the snake that destroyed it.

37 notes · View notes

littlegodzilla · 3 years ago

Text

Howl TWD. AU. Daryl Dixon x OFC 15/15.

Hi!! We are already here, the last chapter!! Thank you very much for reading, waiting and commenting the whole series, I didn't expect you people could like this kind of stories because is pretty different of other stories here, but THANK YOU really I loved to come and see your likes and comments, It made me really happy. As you all know I'm not working in nothing so long at the moment, but, I hope to see all of you in my new stories and enjoy them as much as you enjoyed Howl.

I hope you like this last chapter!!

❤❤

Masterlist

Howl.

Daryl Dixon x OFC.

Warnings(all the series): AU. M, Smut, +18, hurt/comfrot, blood, ABO references, Knot thing, a lot of references about werewolves mixed with my own imagination.

Warnings chapter: Babies. Smut. Meetings.

Outside Narrator.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc @purple-serenity @lilythemadqueen @twdeadfanfic @darylsgarden @srhxpci

Part 15 (Final).

Time passes slowly since everything seems to be back to normal. Once the wolves left, the town was rebuilt, the people have gone about their day to day life as if nothing, keeping the town in its aura of normality, trying to go unnoticed as they have always done and of course not to mention the werewolves that now live there.

RJ is growing up healthy along with his parents and friends of his parents, the kid is already six months old and captures the attention of everyone who sees him riding around in his car. In that time, Rick and the others have been going back and forth to Ixeia's house to make sure if they need anything, but the werewolf since returning to his human form has kept to his work routine. He hasn't returned to the cabin to be near the Omega in case she needs his help, but has continued his Ranger duties, sending Jesus, Aaron and Abraham out to scout the forest for any incidents. Winter is passing and the animals will not be long in coming out of their caves so be careful with farm animals that they do not become prey to the hungry wild animals. It also starts the time when people get lost in the forest again, now that the snow and bad weather has stopped a bit, although it is still cold, people are again walking in the forest, getting lost in the mountains, so permits and licenses have to be renewed so that no one gets stuck in any inaccessible place. Daryl takes care of all that from home while his fellow wolves take care of handing out all the paperwork from the cabin, as well as restocking the necessary supplies at the clinic for when there is an emergency.

In that time the puppies have started to grow healthy and strong, they still haven't changed their shape like their mother, but they have already opened their eyes, their ears are starting to open too, so they already perceive their surroundings in a different way, Daryl has been seen running from one side of the house to the other looking for his nervous and curious children who don't stop biting his pants asking for play when he is busy. Discipline is important in the early months to establish a bond and hierarchy within the pack, so Ixeia and himself keep them in line when they go overboard with their play or unruly behaviors. They are still children, but it's all education.

That night the house is quiet, Carol has come with the children and the others to have dinner with Daryl, they have visited Ixeia in her nest, always waiting first for the woman to grant them permission to approach, and they have petted and played with the wolf cubs until they have fallen roundly beside their mother receiving the warmth of her fur. The hunter appreciates the visits from his companions, they are always welcome and help him keep his mind clear of all the work and his new life as Alpha and father, he has a lot to learn and adapt to still and sometimes feels overdone.

The smoke from his cigarette escapes slowly through his nose as he bites the nail of his thumb, his eyes fixed on the backyard of the house, he is in the kitchen, next to one of the open windows so that the smoke can go out of the house. He has gathered everything they have used to prepare dinner and is now waiting for tiredness to invade him a little more to go to his family and rest. His body has molded well to the nest, despite the bulge in his back, it doesn't hurt so much to lie in that shape anymore and he can enjoy the company of his Omega and his pups.

"Daryl..." Ixeia's muffled, husky voice puts him on alert.

He turns to her, discovering her in her human form at last, watching him from the doorframe. She looks tired, leaning against the wall, her hair in disarray, a bit longer than usual due to the time she has spent in her wolf form, but she is fine. There is no sign on her body that Merle's poison purification has had a negative effect on her.

A growl forms in the Alpha's throat. It had been so long since he had seen her as a human, he had missed her, in many ways. But his body reacts before his mind. Daryl has never been a completely physical man, he is aware of his needs and desires, but with Omega things are simply, too intense.

He stubs out the half-consumed cigarette in his hands and approaches her at a hurried pace. His arms wrap around her naked and cold body due to the temperature that is leaving the last remnants of winter. He kisses her with intensity, but she doesn’t know how to react, remembering that they have never kissed before, which is something she doesn’t know yet. He separates a few inches from her and caresses her lips with his thumb, looking at her with dilated pupils.

"Open yer mouth..." he tells her in a gasp.

The werewolf woman reacts to his request by half-opening her mouth just enough for Daryl to trap her upper lip between his and push his tongue inside her mouth. He feels her tense in his grip, hold onto his shoulders and the kiss is awkward, weird, but Daryl doesn't hold back forcing her into his same rhythm opening her mouth a little wider so that their tongues tangle and a needy gasp escapes from between her lips. It's all it takes for Daryl to grab the she-wolf's ass and in one nimble motion he pulls her up to his waist walking to the kitchen counter, sitting her there. Ixeia hisses at the feel of the cold marble, but doesn't give her time to protest too much, Daryl's mouth moves down to her neck, licking, kissing the skin, she moans as his teeth close on the hollow of her neck and shoulder and her whole body shudders, clenching her legs around the Alpha's waist.

Neither of them is too careful at that moment, there have been many months missing each other's touch, the need is stronger than any other feeling right now. The she-wolf's hands undo Daryl's clothes with strong tugs making the man laugh against the skin of her neck, where he bites and licks, making her moan, pressing her legs against his waist again.

Daryl strokes his own hard cock a couple of times feeling it fully hard in his hand, his fingers find their way to her clit, caressing it, slipping a couple of fingers into her cunt without meeting too much resistance. A desperate growl forms in her throat, he withdraws his fingers and clamps his cock pressing its tip against Ixeia's entrance entering with a single thrust, becoming wedged inside her. They both moan at the sensation, the wet tight walls of her pussy clench around his cock and Daryl huffs knowing he won't last long. He spreads her legs further apart, dragging her as far as possible to the edge of the countertop and begins to ram hard, fast and deep making them both moan at the same time, the wolf woman wraps her legs around his waist and her arms wrap around his shoulders helping her move with him, squeezing around his cock making her moan against his neck.

Pleasure floods them both, orgasm sweeps through them staying still clinging to each other, their breathing ragged and their bodies bathed in a film of sweat.

"I... I missed you..." the woman says as she regains her voice and feels the hunter's body vibrate in her arms, laughing.

"Me too, but our puppies needed their mother..." he whispers against her neck giving small kisses that make her shiver.

"I know... Daryl I..." She tries to speak, the Alpha lifts his head to look at her, frowning, he sees the doubts in her eyes and kisses her again, this time she responds perfectly sighing against his mouth.

"If yer gonna apologize, don't, there's no reason to. They're our pups, they're part of our pack." He stares at her, his hands caress her cheeks removing several tears that escape her eyes.

"I love you..." She dares to whisper closing her eyes, enjoying the caresses of his thumbs against her cheeks, his touch pauses for a second, but he kisses her again and when their gaze connects again, the wolf's eyes sparkle with intensity.

"I love ya too..." he confesses in a breathy, shy and embarrassed whisper.

He carefully scoops her up in his arms to lower her off the kitchen counter and together they return to the nest where their pups sleep peacefully oblivious to their parents' absence. Daryl and Ixeia lie down next to them, leaving the two in the middle of their bodies, protecting them with their warmth. Their gazes meet once more before they fall completely asleep hugging their cubs.

The next morning they wake up to some incomprehensible babbling all around them, the man frowns in disgust when a small hand hits his nose being replaced almost instantly by a wet mouth sucking his nose hard. Daryl opens his eyes discovering his pup trying unsuccessfully to feed. Ixeia is sitting in the nest, with another of her cubs in her arms, feeding. It takes the hunter a moment to realize that his offspring are no longer in wolf cub form, but have become two human babies of about eight months. He smiles pulling the kid away from his face who keeps slobbering on him and carefully sits up taking him in his arms, there is displeasure and grumbling at first, but eventually he is comfortable in his father's arms, but he continues to palpitate the air, looking for where to eat from.

Bowie and Meiga are the names they have decided to give both children, now that their parents are in human form they too have no need to change, not until they are adults and experience their First Change for themselves. There is great surprise and excitement in the group as the four of them leave the house, with the children in a car Rick had bought as a gift so they could walk the babies when they took their human form. They are a perfect mix of Daryl and Ixeia, with some recognizable features of both, the boy has inherited the mole above his father's lip and Meiga has eyes of each color, one blue for his father and one brown like his mother. The first visit to the hospital calms them down, there is no apparent deformity or disease in them, they are strong and healthy, even the doctor dares to mention that maybe stronger than a baby should be at that age, but their condition as werewolves forces them to feed in another way, so none of them gives it special importance.

The children develop quietly, immediately forming a special connection with RJ as the three babies, as if they understand each other in their own world. Ixeia is grateful for all the advice her human friends can give her, as a new mother she is scared that something might go wrong. Daryl for his part always has one eye on the babies, alert and over protective he doesn't know how to deal well with the insecurity that has suddenly formed in his chest. Ezekiel and Rick try to ease that fear, explaining to him that children have to go through certain things in their lives, that he too was a child and learned from his own mistakes, however Daryl's childhood is not a good example either and that doesn't reassure him at all.

It's been a while since Bowie and Meiga have taken their human form and are now crawling all over the house, holding on to the edge of the furniture and trying to stand on their little feet all the time. Daryl has secured every corner, every door and window so the babies won't hit anything, still they have fallen, tripped, cried and bawled like the babies they are, but they have managed the situation better than they expected, even Ixeia leaves them to their own devices from time to time to help Daryl with the Ranger paperwork.

That morning they are signing and checking hunting and hiking licenses when the hairs on the back of their necks stand up all at once. Something is going on in the village, they can feel it, even the children stir uncomfortably in their playground set up next to the nest. They get up at the same time grabbing the kids and go out the door discovering what the problem is.

The Council is there.

The two make a small bow towards the men in front of them, next to them, one of the Elders approaches towards the house, but Daryl gestures to stop him. His Omega looks at him frightened by the boldness he is presenting towards the Elder, but the man smiles in amusement tolerating the young male's behavior.

"Many curious rumors have reached our ears..." he speaks in a soft and deep voice.

"Ya have entered our territory without announcing yer arrival." Replies Dixon ignoring his words. "Since when do the Elders not follow their own laws?"

"Since when is a Metis born with the essence of an Alpha and has the ability to create his own pack?" Answers the man with a smirk. "I don't come in time of war, Daryl Dixon, we just come to check if the rumors are true."

"Well, ya've checked, ya can go back to yer homes and get on with yer lives." Replies the Alpha.

"Daryl!" Ixeia looks at her partner again concerned at his brazenness. "E-Excuse us, Sir, if you would like to go inside and..." She starts to speak but the man raises his hands towards her.

"I just want to see the creatures."

"No." Daryl growls tensing his whole body.

"Please, Daryl..." the woman looks at him again.

"We're not going to hurt them, we just want to understand Gaia's designs."

"Ya see them well from where ya are, ya can feel and smell them. They ain’t Metis, they were born Lupus like their mother, they have no physical abnormalities in both their human and wolf form, they were born strong and healthy." He replies and squeezes Meiga against his chest protectively. "The curse Metis will die with me, the dominant gene is from Ixeia, if our litter expands they will all be born as Lupus. Ya don't have to worry about us creating an army of deranged Metis."

"Oh Gaia..." gasps the young Lupus closing her eyes, in those moments she wishes she could shut her partner up, but the Elder's laughter startles them both.

"Do you really think we would have left you alive if that could happen? Do you think we haven't been aware of your and your brother's every move? You have never gone unnoticed by us. We have eyes and ears everywhere, Daryl, just because we haven't intervened until now doesn't mean we didn't know what was going on. We've given you your time, we've given you your space, but you must understand that as a Werewolf, you belong to a creed, to a family much bigger than your own pack."

"What do ya mean? yer gonna force me to go to yer pack?" He says wryly.

"It was a position I already offered your parents once, but they turned it down too" The Elder says again and surprise is painted on Daryl's face once more. "Your family's lineage is purer than you think, Dixon, we have never had one of yours on the Council, they have never agreed to become our personal soldiers, you have always been too proud, but within that. Pure, of an ancient and extremely powerful lineage, only so two Metis like you and your brother could have managed to become what you are."

"Stop raving, my parents were just two selfish pricks who decided to create their own litter despite belonging to another herd. There is nothing pure about..."

"You're wrong again, but I guess that's understandable, your parents never had the chance to tell you anything, your father went mad as time went by and your mother succumbed to a great depression..."

"Shut up..." growls Daryl menacingly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring painful memories back to your memory, Daryl, but as I say, I come not with times of war, but of peace and new beginnings. I propose the same thing I proposed to your parents, join the council, let's balance the scales..."

"My answer is no." He cuts his speech radically and Ixeia gives him a sidelong glance. "My family, my people, my pack and my cubs are here, they will grow up here, I don't need the Council or the Elders to educate them. We respect the laws and hierarchies established by the Elders, by the ancient packs, pure lineage or not, I dun care, I ain’t goin’ anywhere, and I ain’t gonna make them come with me. With the First Change ya can come back, after all for these ceremonies there is always one of ya present, when that happens ya yerselves can ask them what they wish to do on their path. But I will not move from here. My place is here. This is where I belong."

The Omega at his side feels her chest swell with pride at her partner's words, she reaches for one of his hands and squeezes it tightly conveying her own support without saying anything, she receives a return squeeze from the Alpha and feels his hands tremble. She hides an amused smile behind Bowie's head so as not to disturb Daryl by discovering his nervousness.

"Is that what you decide?"

"Yes, and I'd appreciate it if next time ya come to visit, ya give me a heads up first. I hate unexpected visits." He grunts and the Elder laughs again.

"Well, in that case we shall have to leave, we have made a long journey in vain and my bones do not stand pilgrimages as well as they used to."

"We wish ya a good journey... But if ya wanna try yer luck, my brother now belongs to Negan's pack, perhaps with him ya will have better luck."

The old man looks at him out of the corner of his eye, a smile comes across his face but he says nothing, he turns around indicating to his men that it is time to leave and they all take on a wolf form, much bigger, hairier and with a strong build, protecting the Elder who finds it hard to stay in that form, it is evident that many lives have witnessed those eyes and that body, but Daryl is not interested in what he offers, he does not belong to that world.

He sighs as he feels his essence slowly disappear from the town, he puts an arm around Ixeia and kisses her with infinite affection on the head.

"Let's go home." He whispers against her hair and she nods, returning inside the house that immediately welcomes them with a pleasant smell of home and forest.

No doubt that is where the Metis belongs.

The End.

I hope you liked it!!

Ser you in the next stories!!

❤❤

#norman reedus #normanreedus #smut #daryl dixon #daryldixon #twd fanfiction #howl series #howl last chapter #werewolves #werewolf #daryldixonxofc #twd daryl

53 notes · View notes