#the chapter is written already and I was trying to figure out how long I wanted the end notes to be

[verbenaa]

to eden | chapter 8

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “You spoil me darling, really. But I am simple man—” Rin stops him off with a look of admonishment, cutting off his sentence to start her own.

“A simple show for a simple man, then.”She hopes her emphasis on the words will speak loudly enough for him to understand the meaning of them as she mockingly bows towards him.

“I take offense to that assessment, you know.” Astarion huffs with a frown, casting his head aside to instead take a sip of his errant goblet of wine, already forgotten beside him.

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F!Tav

𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E, 18+

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 14.8k 😮‍💨

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: mentions of torture/abuse, mild descriptions of blood/gore, striptease (?), fingering, cunnilingus, vampire bites (duh), handjobs, piv sex, multiple orgasms, Soft Dom Astarion returns 😌

𝒶/𝓃: hellooooo, sorry it's taken so long for me to get this written and posted! but it's here now and I very much hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts about the chapter, too!

ao3

masterlist

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

The air is quiet, the ever-present darkness lingering around them like a stagnant weight. Rin finds that she quite hates it, no matter how lovely the promise the warmth of Last Light Inn and its alcohol is to be. 

Her fingers are poised on one of the delicate strings of her lyre as she strums it lightly, a low hum reverberating out from the instrument that fills the air with what she hopes will be something that sounds effortless, beautiful, ethereal.

She frowns at the sound of it from where she leans against a conveniently placed rock near the fire, the note falling flat as it dies in the silence of the dark night.

“You’re off.” A familiar voice echoes out from above, the sound of it supercilious and downright annoying, as she huffs out a breath in minute agitation.

With a turn of her head, Rin sends Astarion a withering look from where he lounges, imperious, on the rock right above her; a book held in his hand as he reads by the light of the roaring fire. 

“And so is your stitching, but you don’t hear me calling you out on it, now do you?”

His stitching wasn’t, of course. It was always practiced, perfect, and near precise—Astarion as good with a needle as he was with a knife or an arrow. 

But, as always, he didn’t have to know that. He has enough of an ego as it is and Rin has no intentions of adding to it unnecessarily.

Astarion flips the page with unnecessary force, his obvious agitation dragging a secret smile to her lips that she hides into the strings of her lyre. 

He really made it far too easy to tease him, sometimes.

Astarion hmphs into the nighttime air, looking astutely back down at the book in his lap in an attempt to ignore her as she bites back a laugh that threatens to break free.

Rin turns her attention back to the instrument in her hands, fingers running down the carved edge of it as her mind wanders aimlessly in the silence and she stares out at the utterly boring landscape. 

It was pretty, she supposes, if one cared for a setting devoid of most kinds of life. Ultimately, there was just not terribly much for her to look at, leaving her with nothing but the amusement of her own thoughts, much to her frustration. 

There wasn’t much left for her to do but think, it seemed.

Rin had already eaten dinner while conversing with Gale; engaged in some gossip over a glass of wine with Shadowheart; discussed the merits of carnivorous fauna with Halsin; indulged Lae’zel in a practice sparring session (which she lost quite terribly, much to Astarion’s joy and Lae’zel’s disappointment at Rin’s apparent lack of skill); shared a nice pint from the inn with Karlach; and then watched on as Astarion drained poor Wyll dry of some gold in a game of cards (she’ll have to try to figure out how to get him his money back, one way or another).

She would probably have to beg Astarion to do it—something she was not eager to do, but would for the sake of Wyll and all his noble, princely goodness. 

Perhaps she should try to steal it off of him, instead. It certainly would make for a good challenge, at the very least, provided she didn’t get caught doing it. Rin has no doubt the cost for that particular crime would be steep, one that she doesn’t know if she can afford to pay for.

Astarion already spent enough time in her thoughts as it was, the price nothing more than that of her precious yet dwindling sanity. She already feels as though she is slowly losing her mind every time she replays the events of the other night over in her head, no longer than a mere week ago.

She and Astarion had both quite politely ignored the events of that night, the memory of the closeness of their lips and the things she had said settling into the recesses of her mind as if they were nothing more than a dream, one that haunts her when she lays down her head onto her sad excuse for a pillow. 

It was a lapse in judgment, at the very least. The klauthgrass had clearly addled her mind more than she thought when she looks back on it. It’s the only logical reason she would ever had said the things she did—whether spoken from her lips or written down in a letter never to be sent. 

She also still needed to burn the damn letter, but that was neither here nor there.

What mattered was that they had settled back into their usual camaraderie, trading cutting words and sly smiles back and forth with one another as they had always done despite a brand new, gently simmering tension that now lay just underneath the surface.

But it was fine. 

Rin was nothing if not an expert at ignoring the things that were bothering her, was she not? Their little…situation was simply that. 

A situation. 

One that was easily forgettable once she set her mind to actually forgetting about it.

Rin trades that particular line of thinking out with a deep exhale, shoving it back into a conveniently placed box in a corner of her mind and instead sets to retuning the instrument in her hands, worn pine both familiar and comforting as its weight rests against her.

Her wonderful, familiar lyre that had been with her for years now, through both thick and thin. It hadn’t helped her make terribly much gold, but it had been a better friend to her than any person had over the years.

She turns the pegs on the back of it little by little, tiny twists of her fingers adjusting the strings in a way she hopes will make her next attempt at song better and not worse. 

The night flows by as she sits in the warmth of the fire, the soft crackles of the logs soothing as Rin retunes the instrument until she’s finally happy with what she hopes will be a drastic improvement to the earlier noise it had made.

With a satisfied sigh, Rin moves to strum at her lyre, fingers just about to touch the strings when a biting voice interrupts her.

“I do hope you didn’t make it worse. My poor ears can’t take much more abuse.”

Rin ignores the jab with a serene blink before deigning not to answer as her raised hand closes into a fist, nails biting into her palm as she prays to anyone listening for an ounce of patience.

In lieu of violence—despite him deserving it—she sees a perfect opportunity to turn the conversation from another of her apparent failures onto one of his instead.  

She turns to look at him with a sly look, fixing him with clever eyes alight with mischief. 

“You know, Astarion, I happened to read something quite interesting in one of the books I found at The Waning Moon.”

Astarion turns another page in his book as he feigns disinterest, but his eyes don’t scan the rows of elvish decorating the page in neatly printed rows. “Oh? Do tell, then. Was it something violent? Gory? Scandalous?” 

“Scandalous, certainly. I seem to have come across a small little volume that contained a list,” Rin’s brows waggle conspiratorially. “A list of banned patrons.”

Astarion’s interest is firmly piqued as soon as she says the words, finally looking up from the tome in his lap to focus on her, indifference giving way to a fiendish gleam in his eye.

“You should have said so from the start. Tell me more, darling, what are the offenses? Give me all the sordid details.” 

He leans in closer from his seat above her, Astarion and his flair for the dramatic never failing to amuse her and she can’t help the equally wicked smile that spreads across her lips in response.

“Most of them were ordinary—you know, the standard. Bar fights, skipping the bill, unnecessary wanton activity with a pickle. But there was one that really stuck out to me, quite a striking description frankly. I think it said something along the lines of ‘a pale elf with a snide mouth’ that apparently insulted someone of particular importance. Sound familiar?”

“Well, whoever they are sounds like they had a fantastic time to me.” His smile is devious as he smirks. “In fact, I’d say that whoever it was deserved such words.” 

“Oh, I have no doubt. I’m sure the insults thrown were of the highest calibre, as well.” 

Astarion grin is a roguish one that looks terribly handsome on his features but something heavy intercedes over the amusement in his eyes as the deeper meaning behind that seemingly small and unimportant notation sinks in.

The smirk falls slowly from Astarion’s lips, a slight darkness settling across the features of his face as the corners of his mouth turn down ever so slightly.

Ah. Of course. 

“You have no memory of ever coming here, do you?” She softens her voice, only slightly, but she has no doubt Astarion notices the change regardless.

“No. I’ve already told you I don’t have many memories from my life before Cazador,” He snaps. “But clearly I’ve here before. Obviously.”

Rin had given some thought to the presumed Astarion of before in the rare moments of peace that were few and far in between, when her mind was free to wander before sleep overtook her. 

The Astarion that existed before the tadpole, before Cazador. Back when his heart still beat and his skin was flushed with life. Astarion, with not-red eyes, wearing finely tailored silks and wools, drinking the richest of wines; for he was sure to have been wealthy. 

She had spent many years watching the upper echelons of Baldur’s Gate from her place on the streets, staring up into their windows at twilight to watch them swoon and twirl in their finery, and Astarion moved like the best of them—graceful and elegant, proud and arrogant.

He had been a magistrate, or so he had said. 

She could only trust so many of the words that come from his lips, but somehow the image of Astarion in ostentatious robes handing down whatever judgement he deemed worthy is far too easy for her to envision for her to entirely disbelieve the notion.

But he must have had a family, surely. 

Parents, siblings, friends—perhaps even a lover or two. Or three, knowing him. 

Gods forbid he had sired any children.

But the implication remains all the same. So many questions, almost all of which he may never know the answers to. 

“You should be proud, Astarion.” Rin attempts a tiny bit of levity, though it doesn’t seem to help. “An annoyance both alive and undead. Not many could ever hope to achieve such a thing.”

“Well,” he sniffs with an air of put-on pride, smile weak. “It’s nice to know I’m consistent, at least.”

“You did get thrown out of a tavern last time you were here. Perhaps this trip to sweet, little Reithwin is faring much better than the one prior. Your last visit didn’t have me present, after all.”

“My last visit was probably still more peaceful, I’d wager. I doubt I was busy being vexed by a senseless blonde bard all the while having a worm buried in my head.” His voice raises a few octaves as he narrows his eyes at her. 

She would rather have his ire than his sorrow, it’s a much better sight than the mournful look beginning to creep over his features.

“Presumably weren’t being vexed by a senseless blonde bard.” Rin shoots Astarion a small smile. “Maybe you have a type.”

He only gives a mirthless laugh in response. 

“I am sorry, Astarion. I wish you were able to remember more.”

Astarion sighs, uncharacteristically defeated and the sound of it has her chest tightening. 

“Yet another thing I can add to the unending list of things that Cazador took from me. From us.”

“Us?” Rin muses over the word, the answer to a question she had long considered but never managed to ask, not amongst the seemingly never-ending amount of things that popped up on their list to be taken care of. “So, you aren’t the only one, then? Of Cazador’s spawn, I mean.”

She briefly worries she’s overstepped an invisible boundary, that Astarion will shut her down and storm away without another word, leaving her with no answer to the question.

Her curiosity about him grows with every passing day and she simply wants to know more about him. 

Not the charming, surface level vanity he would normally put forward for her, but the real Astarion. 

The one who tells her and only her small stories about himself and his life, the one who responds to her silly little letters, the one who had thanked her, with actual gratitude, drawing of his scars in hand.

The Astarion who—for some unfathomable reason—no matter how much he may complain or insult her, still chooses her above all others to spend his time with.

Rin turns to look up at him, the straightening of his spine obvious even in the darkness of the camp. Astarion, for his part, takes her question in stride, though there’s a telltale tightness around his mouth that signals his ever-present bitterness at Cazador’s mention.

He nods, the motion stiff as Rin’s brows draw together into a frown.

“There were seven of us, in all. Brothers and sisters, as he liked to call us. Quite the family.” Astarion lets out a derisive laugh, words acrimonious as he spits them out.

Ruby red eyes look ahead, his gaze catching on nothing in particular as he stares at the barren world on the other side of the water, the landscape as bleak as his expression.

“But I was one of his first. He was a monster to us all. Tortured us. Carved the same thing into my back as he did into all of theirs. But Cazador took a special pleasure in my pain. In my screams. He said my screams sounded sweetest.”

And oh, how her heart twists to hear the fragile timbre of his voice as his breath hitches, an undercurrent of agony flowing so readily and truthful from him. 

Rin averts her eyes as his voice breaks on the last few words, settling her vision on one of the red ferns flowing in the ever-present breeze in an attempt to let him keep some of his suffering to himself, to leave some of his dignity in tact.

It’s the least she can do. 

“And now that I’m gone…I don’t know. I pity the other six.” Astarion takes a deep, bracing breath, his sorrow palpable, and Rin’s chest aches again.

She doesn’t have anything to say, and how could she?

Oh, terribly sorry you spent two centuries being tortured unendingly. That must have been awful. You didn’t deserve it, Astarion.

No, any words of consolation she has only seem to fall flat in the face of his misery. He doesn’t need her to tell him about how horrible it is, how neither he nor his siblings deserved the pain, the anguish, the endless torture that Cazador dished out on a whim to bend and break them all to his will.

The only thing Rin can think to give him is her own paltry attempt at comfort as she leans in towards him slowly until her head rests just against the side of his leg in silent consolation. 

He doesn’t like to be touched at the best of times, but somehow she knows he would hate the inevitable pity he would choose to find in her words much worse. 

Astarion freezes, muscles tensing as if in wait for something, sending a sharp look down at the messily braided head now resting against his knee. But when nothing other than the presence of her subtle weight leaning against him ever comes, the only movement she makes the easy in and out of her breathing, he relaxes slightly.

Rin doesn’t dare to look up at him, instead returning her attention back to the lyre still in her arms. With a careful hand, her fingers come up to strum at a string, followed by another and another and another; music flowing out from the instrument in a slow, soft melody.

It’s nothing in particular that the plays; no well-known song or tune, only a series of notes and chords she pieces together with minimal thought that somehow manages to sound more lovely than anything she’s had luck playing the past week.

Eventually, she hears the soft rustle of a page being flipped once more as Astarion returns to his book, no words spoken to break the silence between them as Rin keeps her head resting just against him, playing her song just for him.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧ 

She should know better, by now, than to ever be surprised by the horrors they come across—and yet, as she had walked into the operating theatre of the so-called House of Healing, her footsteps quiet over the dark, ornate, and rotting woodwork, she still managed to be shocked by what she beheld as she had peeked over the railing.

She had noticed the man first. It was impossible to not have when his blood, a bright red incarnadine, was splattered across the walls and dripping onto the floors in sickly streams. She followed the trail of it to the source, taking in the carnage of his body; eyes no more than bloodied pits and mouth opened in silent scream as he writhes on the table, somehow still alive despite the butchering of his body. 

A moment later, her eyes drifted over to Doctor Malus Thorm in all his horror; elbow deep in his victim’s innards with hands that were no longer quite hands, digits turned instead into some sort of mechanical claws as he lectures aloud to the sightless nurses who stood uselessly around the body.

She had stepped into that theatre expecting a battle, her own blood to be added to all that had already been spilled and soaked into the grooves in the wood over the many years. 

Instead, she managed something quite different. Something possibly worse.

She hadn’t assumed that she would be able to kill him with only her words, not when the menace of him spelled violence and promised pain, a Shar devotee to the bitter end. 

And yet, it was with words that she had convinced him to sacrifice himself to his nurses, a dark turn of events that somehow seemed to fit the narrative of this terrible place all too well. 

She blames the power she feels when his body finally gives its last, miserable breath on the shadow curse, on the innate darkness of this place, on the tadpole. 

Any excuse works, so long as it covers up the fact that she had liked it.

It was the very same power she had felt when the other two Thorms fell; silvered words falling off her tongue to bend them to her will and end them both without her having to lift a single, gloved finger.

It had only been a small inconvenience to finish off the remaining Sisters of Mercy after they had done Rin’s dirty work for her, their trepans and bonesaws no match for her rapier, Karlach’s axe, Shadowheart’s spells, and Astarion’s blood thirst.

Her heart still beats too quick, the sound of it loud in her ears as she stands stock still on a bated breath—in fear, in anxiety, in a strange and twisted excitement.

It’s both thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. 

Rin wants nothing to do with it.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side.” Shadowheart remarks quietly with a laugh from beside her, breaking the silence of the aftermath. There’s a new awe present in the cleric’s voice that Rin hates the sound of.

Rin looks at her friend with a small smile. “So long as you don’t get in the way of me and a good time, we’ll be dandy.”

“I wouldn’t dare after that performance.” Shadowheart laughs, a twinkling little sound, and it breaks up a bit of the nerves that had settled in her chest.

“Well. That was positively sickening. Who knew there would be so much fun to be found here?” Astarion sheathes his dagger with a twist of his wrist, the added flourish elegant as blood flicks off the blade and splatters onto the ground. “Though I do wish for a more satisfying kill. I’m in desperate need of a snack.”

Karlach claps a hand on Astarion’s shoulder with enough force that he only just manages to keep his footing. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find something else alive for you to sink your fangs into.”

“Does all that blood not quite do it for you, Astarion?” Shadowheart gestures with a raised brow to the drops of blood still dripping off of the surgical table, a nauseating mixture of both the man's and Thorm’s blending together.

“Hardly.” Astarion crinkles his nose at the thick, dark ichor. “I’ve had worse, but it smells terrible and I can’t imagine it tastes much better.”

Rin glances up at Astarion beside her, taking in his somehow paler than normal complexion and a thought hits her, her brow furrowing in consideration.

When was the last time he had fed? 

And what on? 

He had been subsisting on a diet of—well, mostly her, honestly; along with the occasional forest creature.

Astarion certainly hadn’t tasted her since their last night on the Mountain Pass, longer than he’s ever gone without her blood since his first feed from her all those moons ago.

Rin had become so used to his little visits, popping into her tent during the evening to have his fill of her—blood and more. The absence of them since has felt surprisingly stark, a loss she didn’t realize she would mourn in the wake of the palpable tension that had settled between them no matter how hard they each attempted to ignore it.

For just as surely as he hadn’t drank from her neck, he had not come to taste the rest of her either; their nights spent instead trading remarks back and forth by the fire.

Not that she was complaining. 

Quite the contrary. 

She had found herself growing quite fond of this new aspect of their relationship that they had eased into; trading stories and anecdotes with each other over a bottle of wine or a game of cards, he reading his books while she plays her music, Astarion working on his stitching as she looks on and inevitably bothers him with her presence. 

It was…nice. Normal, almost. 

Or whatever their version of nice and normal was.

Rin snaps herself out of her thoughts with a blink and turns to her companions with a nod, hoping the daze she was in doesn’t show on her face. “Right then. Let’s loot, shall we?”

They meander their way about the rest of the room, navigating their way around the bodies and books scattered about the floor, some of the thin pages now soaked with the blood of the fallen. They don’t find terribly much, some gold here or an interesting text there. 

But mostly, it’s all useless.

Rin thinks that at one time, the quatrefoil tiles lining the floors of this place must have been beautiful—crisp, clean white contrasting against vibrant blue. 

Now, though, they are covered in long streaks of dark, sticky blood, the ichor long staining tile and grout alike; the corners of them chipping as they step over them on their way out of the long hallway at the entry of the building. 

Rin falls back beside Astarion as they make their way onto the uneven cobblestones of Reithwin, gnarled roots threatening to trip her as they grow up in between the grooves. With a small smile and nod, she gestures for Shadowheart to take the lead, the cleric walking ahead as her long braid bounces behind her.

She falls into step with him easily, matching his pace as she keeps her eyes ahead, always on the lookout for what the next danger to jump out at them will be.

“Have you been hunting recently?” It’s a casual question, no accusation in her tone as she stretches her arms behind her back.   

Astarion casts a surreptitious glance her way, eyes wandering across her profile as she stays looking ahead. “There’s precious little living here, my dear.”

“Then why haven’t you come to me? You’ve never cared about bothering me before when you would pop into my tent unannounced.” 

“I-” Astarion looks away from her for a moment before returning his gaze to her. “I assumed you needed a break to…replenish your sources."

His non-answer has one of Rin’s brows drawing up in skepticism, which he readily ignores. However, the thought of him perhaps not coming to her for her own health is almost sweet, if believable.

If. 

She’s not so sure that it’s the truth, but she will take it at face value, for now.

“Astarion,” she leans towards him to give him a slight nudge with her elbow, the touch light. “I think my ‘sources’ have been thoroughly replenished. You can feed on me tonight, if you’d like.” 

It would be careless of her, as a leader, to let him continue to starve himself. She’s only doing the most responsible thing by offering herself up to him again. It’s for the better of their entire party and Faerûn at large, wasn’t it? The Absolute wasn’t going to just disappear into thin air, after all. 

And if it happened to mean she got to spend a little extra time with him—well, that would be nothing more than luck on her part. 

“Well, if you’re offering, sweet thing,” His lips curl up in a smirk, eyes alight with a predator’s gleam at the promise of her blood. “Come find me in my tent tonight, darling, and we shall feast.”

“Feast? Shall there be something there for me then, as well?” Rin releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and glances up at him with a small, secret smile that has a corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

“Only the best for my favorite little treat.”

“Careful, you’ll spoil me.” If only, she thinks, and the thought is terribly traitorous as she bites down on a corner of her lip in hopes of stopping the pink that threatens to rise to her cheeks. 

But from the answering smirk on Astarion’s face as they venture further into the into the crushing darkness of Reithwin’s destroyed streets she thinks he must able to glean the thought on his own. 

“We can’t have that, now can we?”

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

Rin steels herself outside the flap of Astarion’s tent, readying herself for whatever waits for her inside. She isn’t sure why she’s so nervous. It wasn’t like he hadn’t fed from her before.

Or slept with her, for that matter.

There’s no flickering flame to be seen from the outside of his tent, nothing to give her any sort of hint of what possibly awaits her inside aside from him, his silhouette undecipherable in the darkness.

With a deep breath, she pulls the flap to the side and steps forward, a familiar scent—rich brandy curling together with earthy rosemary and fresh bergamot—swirling in the air as her eyes land on the vampire in question.

“Well,” Astarion lounges casually against his bedroll as his eyes find her own, leaning back on his elbows with enviable ease as a silver goblet rests beside him. “Hello there, darling.”

Her eyes are drawn to the exposed skin of his chest, the sight of him waiting for her shirtless so reminiscent to that first night together that she pulls up short.

It felt like eons ago, now; her traipsing through the forest outside of the Emerald Grove to find him waiting in a picturesque clearing for her and her alone. While there was no soft grass with charming little flowers to decorate the ground and no glittering moonlight to beam down upon them and highlight their skin as they moved together—she feels just as out of her depth now as she did then, when she had discovered him with his shirt already off and honeyed words just waiting to fall from his lips.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long again.” Rin snatches her eyes up from his chest to meet his own, a smirk already decorating his lips at her momentary distraction.

“Oh, I’ll always wait for you, beautiful.” Her eyes roll despite herself as she lets out a huff at such trite words.

“Did you need a nibble or should I see myself out?” She points behind herself to the exit of his tent for emphasis, brow arched.

“Let’s not be hasty, shall we?” Astarion answers a touch too quickly as he sits up a little higher, body tensing as if ready to jump up in the event she were to actually leave. “I would so hate to see you go.”

He must be hungry, then, if he’s so desperate for her presence.

Rin smiles at him as she looks around the tent expectantly, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she spies not a single treat aside from an empty goblet she presumes to be for her. “You know, I recall you promising me a feast.”

Astarion has the audacity to not look even the tiniest bit sheepish as her eyes narrow and her bottom lip juts out into a pout, a noise of frustration escaping from her lips. She should have known better than to trust a vampire when it came to procuring treats.

“I’m short on baked goods, pet, but I can promise you something else delicious instead.” His intent is obvious as he sends her a decidedly suggestive look. “Won’t you give me a show first, though?”

“I didn’t realize you were in need of entertainment, Astarion. I could always bring Volo in to recite some poetry while you dine, if you’d like.” 

“A charming idea, to be sure.” Astarion rolls his eyes. “But I was thinking of something a little more…intimate.”

Astarion eyes her form tip to toe as she stands in front of him, but it lacks the casual closeness she’s come to expect from him, something in the forced insincerity of the gesture grating.

“Make yourself comfortable. Stay awhile,” He gestures passively with a wave of his hand through the air towards where she stands as he continues. “Get yourself out of those wretched clothes, for example. You look much prettier without them on, anyways.”

Irritation sparks along the line of her mouth, emerald eyes sharpening as she stares at him. Weeks ago, the words would have had her blushing and the beginnings of desire kindling in her belly; but now they fall lifeless upon her ears, none of the ease and familiarity she has come to enjoy during their little interludes present in them. 

The words are merely mechanic—as calculated and practiced as they were on that very first night.

Worse, it doesn’t even seem like he enjoys saying the words, the sound of them hollow as they leave his mouth and the smirk pasted on his lips halfhearted.

It feels utterly obvious once she realizes what he’s trying to do and she can see through his ill-prepared idea with ease, this little power play of his nothing more than a paltry attempt to control their situation, some sort of damage control after the other night. 

They’ve both given too much of themselves now to return to the shallow, impersonal relationship they once had whether he likes it or not, and Rin will be damned if she lets him call the shots and force them back to the beginning.

But, if Astarion wants to play a game—well, she’s never been one to turn down an opportunity to win.

Rin looks down at her clothes with a pointed look and while they were perhaps nothing fancy—the oversized linen and worn leather may be simple but they were far from wretched. 

“Well. I’d hate to offend your delicate sensibilities.” Her smile is an inch too wide to be believable, betraying her irritation. “Shall I do a twirl for you as well? Or perhaps you would like a little trick?”

Rin holds up her hand, ready to ignis the damned tent if necessary to illustrate her point. Nothing that a few gold and a trip to dear Withers couldn’t fix if she accidentally managed to char him in the process.

“You spoil me darling, really. But I am simple man—” Rin stops him off with a look of admonishment, cutting off his sentence to start her own.

“A simple show for a simple man, then.” She hopes her emphasis on the words will speak loudly enough for him to understand the meaning of them as she mockingly bows towards him. 

“I take offense to that assessment, you know.” Astarion huffs with a frown, casting his head aside to instead take a sip of his errant goblet of wine, already forgotten beside him. 

His eyes are drawn quickly back to the center of his tent when he hears the soft rustle of fabric, returning to Rin just in time to catch a glimpse of her hands running down the front of her blouse. “It’s a perfectly reasonable one, if you ask me.”

Astarion frowns, opening his mouth to protest before quickly shutting it as her hands reach the waistband of her pants, fingers dipping just beneath the worn leather. Rin raises her brow, a teasing smile forming on her lips now that she has his attention.

Any irritation she feels is tempered by the thrill of Astarion’s gaze so set on her, his complete focus hers and hers alone as honest interest finally sparks to life in those red eyes of his.

With little flourish she begins to pull her leggings down her legs, peeling the pants away from her skin with less grace than she would prefer, but it would have to do. She kicks them to the side once she frees herself from them, uncaring where they land as she adjusts to the cool air of the night against newly bared skin that Astarion’s eyes rove.

“Do you think I should take this off next?” She thumbs at the hem of her shirt, examining the fraying stitching at the hem in desperate need of a mend. She’d have to ask Astarion to do it for her, damn it. “Since you find it so offensive and all that.”

“Be my guest, darling.” He gestures with a hand towards the garment, a corner of his mouth lifting. “I’ll even do you a favor and burn it for you for later.”

“How kind of you to go through all the trouble.” 

Rin’s smile is wry as she grabs the hem of her plain tunic and deftly lifts it over her head before dropping it. 

It drifts to the ground, fluttering down softly to fall in a graceless heap beside her bare legs, Astarion’s eyes darkening ever so slightly at the sight of her in nothing more than an unadorned corset and plain underwear, upping her confidence tenfold as she lets a corner of her mouth lift. 

“I suppose you’ll want to burn this too?” She runs her fingers teasingly across the top edge of the corset, her touch light as she brushes against the cotton and the plush of her breasts where they spill out above the garment.  

She hadn’t worn it with the intent of being admired, but when Astarion’s eyes follow every brush of her fingers against her breasts she’s suddenly quite grateful that she had chosen to wear it tonight instead of opting to go without as she normally would have, if only for it to act as a different kind of armor—one last layer to bolster her defenses in a battle she will surely lose. 

Astarion swallows, legs shifting slightly as his eyes caress over her curves. “We can negotiate the corset.”

“Your kindness truly knows no bounds.” Her fingers hover over the looped bow that sits at her breasts, tied in a hurry earlier after she had changed out of her armor.

The corset itself was nothing more than a plain ivory cotton—no expensive satin or fine boning—but when she pulls at the laces keeping the pretty little bow tied at the center of her cleavage, the tiniest bit of her full breasts exposed with the motion, the look in Astarion’s eyes could fool her into thinking it was the finest thing he had ever seen. 

Little by little, she pulls every cross of the laces, freeing more and more of herself with every delicate yank of her fingers as Astarion’s eyes obediently follow every inch of skin exposed until she reaches the last one, tugging it gently to loosen the final cross. 

It hangs loose around her form, the curve of her breasts just visible with the line of skin exposed down her chest. Rin wills her hands to steady under Astarion’s study as she brings them up to the straps on her shoulders, pushing each one off so she can shrug out of the garment. 

With one last push, the corset falls to the ground at her feet and she steps out of the circle of it before sending it aside with a soft kick.

Rin’s breasts pebble in the cool air, heat beginning to curl deep in her stomach under Astarion’s watchful gaze. She keeps her limbs loose, relaxed; her face at ease as she meets his eyes.

“You aren’t quite finished yet, my sweet.” Astarion’s voice is tight as he gestures with a brief nod towards her nearly naked form, gaze moving from her bare breasts and down lower to linger on her still-clothed center.

“You know, I think I’ve grown tired of being your entertainment,” She cocks her head to the side, unbound waves of darkened wheat—the color barely discernible in the darkness of his tent—cascading with the movement. “If you want them off so badly, do it yourself.” 

He raises a brow in question but obliges her nonetheless, moving from where he had been so indolently reclined against his bedroll as he watches her with keen eyes. 

With slow, careful steps Astarion makes his way towards where she stands before him and she is helpless but to admire the way his muscles shift on his lithe form, the grace with which he moves as he stalks closer to her that of a predator on the hunt for his prey.

And what was she, she supposes, if not his prey? It was why she had come here tonight, after all—to let him drink his fill of her blood with his lips at her neck, sucking down her life’s essence to his heart’s content.

She certainly feels like his prey, at least. How could she feel anything but when he moves around her in a slow circle, eyes brushing over her bared skin like a lover’s caress, knowing and intimate.

Astarion moves around her in another perfect circle before he finishes his perusal, stopping to stand behind her close enough to touch, his bare chest almost brushing against her spine. Familiar hands come to her waist as his head lowers to rest upon her shoulder, thumbs rubbing light circles into the skin. 

His lips press a featherlight kiss to her jaw that has her catching a breath. “Who said you were in charge here, my dear?”

His touch is electric against her skin, and Rin resists the urge to lean back into him, to press against the coolness of his chest and relish the feeling of his skin on hers. His mouth is terribly distracting where he adorns her with little kisses across the curve of her jaw and down the line of her neck, and she briefly wonders if he means to bite her just like this, held tight in the circle of his arms.

“Whoever said that you were?” Rin counters back with a glance out of the corner of her eye to where his cheek rests against her shoulder, ignoring the wetness that has begun to pool between her thighs. 

She has no intention of giving into his every want and demand, or at least not yet.

The hands bracketing her waist begin to move despite his protests, sliding down over her hips with frustrating slowness until he reaches the hem of her embarrassingly simple underwear. 

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” Astarion sighs dramatically against the column of her throat. “Must you be so difficult?"

There’s an unexpected fondness in his voice, an affection that she can’t remember if she’s ever heard so openly from him before that has the air around them changing; shifting from something practiced and performative to familiar and lovely and absolutely perfect.

The sound of it has a shred of something warm blossoming in Rin’s chest—unknown but not entirely unwelcome, she decides. 

He plays at the edge of her panties, fingers toying with the thin cotton where it rests against her skin on either hip, his touch sending another wave of heat straight to her core as she bites back a sigh at the sensation. 

“You should be aware by now that listening has never been one of my strong suits.”

“Yes, well,” Astarion’s fingers hook into both sides of her underwear before beginning to pull, the garment sliding down over her hips and bottom as Astarion sinks down with it. “You seem to remember how to follow my instructions when it counts, dearest.”

He drops silently to his knees behind Rin, dragging her underwear down her legs as he goes, each slide of the fabric against her skin only serving to heighten the heat kindling inside her. She gingerly steps out of each leg, desperately wishing she could see what he must look like lowered behind her in such a manner—the sight of him on his knees surely one that she has seen in her dreams of him. 

But before she can make up her mind to steal a glance or even just turn, Astarion is gliding back up her body, hands glancing against her skin as he goes, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. 

“You know, I thought I came here for you to feed on.” It’s an effort to keep her voice steady as his arms wrap back around her waist, touch cool against her skin.

His head lowers back to her ear, lips brushing against the shell as a shiver of anticipation runs down her spine. “Oh, you did. But I don’t see why we can’t have a little fun as well. It’s been awhile, darling, and I’ve missed you.” 

A hand traces down her stomach in a teasing touch; long, sweeping lines of his fingertips back and forth across her skin brushing down until he reaches the apex of her thighs. 

Astarion moves at a glacial pace as his fingers dip lower and lower until they find their way to her center, swiping through her folds to spread her essence on the tips of them as Rin’s head falls back onto his shoulder, a sigh escaping her lips as he explores. 

“Miss my blood or miss me?” Rin’s lashes flutter shut as he runs his fingers up and down her, careful to avoid the two places she wants him to touch most as she flushes at the evidence of her arousal he finds.

“Can’t it be both?” His fingers finally find her entrance, tracing around the edge in slow circles as she sharply inhales. 

She’s not ready to admit how much she wants to believe him that he had missed her, had missed this—the easy intimacy they had been building together bit by bit. It’s a dizzying thought, one that has her heart skipping a beat that he surely can hear this close. 

“With you? Unlikely.”

“Why, you think so little of me, darling.” Astarion punctuates his words with the press of a finger slowly in; and were it any other time, the mock outrage coloring his voice would draw a laugh from her. 

This time, however, he draws a moan from her instead as he pushes deeper, seating his finger inside her before slowly withdrawing.

“Give me more to think about, then.” Rin sighs, lips opened as she tries to still her hips.

“Only if you ask nicely.” He smiles into her skin, lips brushing against the column of her throat as he pushes back in, sliding home to the knuckle.

Her mind ceases to a halt on whatever clever words she had been preparing when a hand draws up to her breast and cups it, Astarion’s touch a balm against her over-warm skin as he runs his thumb over the hardened peak.

Astarion’s finger moves only barely inside her, but it’s enough for Rin to feel it, friction building in her core with the simple motion. She should be embarrassed by how quickly he has worked her up, her ire so easily forgotten when wrapped in his arms and at the mercy of his skilled hands.

He’s lucky that she likes him, for she would never allow anyone else such lenience. Though, she would never allow anyone else the opportunity to get quite so close to her, either—a thought that borders on terrifying if she thinks too long about it.

A second finger joins the first, and she welcomes the slight stretch as he finally begins to pump them while he mouths at her neck, moving in a steady rhythm that has a fire burning deep in her core as she moans in relief.

Astarion’s pace is easy and unconcerned as he thrusts in and out lazily, slowly building her up higher and higher with every press forward. Her curls pillow against his pale skin as she sighs at the pleasure coursing through her, that welcome heat billowing deep inside her. His thumb finds her clit and rolls against it in soft circles as her lips open in a low moan, limbs tightening at the added touch. 

The hand cupping her breast runs back down to her waist to wrap around the circle of it, fingertips stroking her skin as he secures her closer to him and the outline of his cock presses hard against her ass.

Rin can feel the grin he hides in her neck as he breathes in the scent of her and his fingers curl, searching for the place to make her fall apart under his hands. He moves them just right, finding that one spot, and she cries out as her hips buck into his palm. 

“Ah, Astarion!” 

“Yes, darling?” He curls his fingers again and she practically melts in his hold, the arm he has wrapped around her waist squeezing tighter to keep her upright. “Did you have something you wanted to say?”

He could finish her off so easily, the bastard; only a few more presses of his fingers and she would be done for, but Rin doubts that Astarion has plans to let her off so easily. 

Astarion has never outright denied her the release she craves, but he certainly likes to make her work for it.

“Only that I don’t want you to stop.” The words come out sounding more wanting than she would prefer, but she’s beyond the point of summoning up a care.

Astarion tsks, and as if on cue his fingers slow to a stop before pulling them from her body. Rin whines in protest as she lifts her head to glare at him, narrowed eyes meeting amused ones as he simply smirks back at her.

“Sorry, dear, I didn’t catch that.”

Astarion spins her around in his hold, her breasts pressing against his own bare chest as his hands run up and down her waist. A quick glance down and she can see the evidence of his own arousal, his cock pushing urgently against her stomach, still hidden by pants that she needs to rid him of preferably sooner rather than later.

“Liar. You heard me just fine.” Rin’s arms wrap around his shoulders as she leans in closer to him.

“It’s neither here nor there.” Astarion begins to walk her back, the two of them stepping together as he leads her towards his bedroll. “There’s no need to rush. Now, lay down.”

Rin arches her brow at his bossiness, but doesn’t argue as she lowers herself to the ground and spreads herself out on his bedroll. She frowns when she sits, the surface not nearly as soft as it should be, an unfamiliar hardness beneath her.

“Astarion, what in the hells is it that I am sitting on?” She shifts to peek underneath the blankets, spying some sort of wooden thing underneath her.

“Are you really going to ruin the mood to ask me about something so stupid? You are truly impossible.” Astarion looks down on her with a pointed scowl as he moves to kneel down before her, his lithe muscles shifting as he crawls over to her in smooth movements. 

“I’m not the one sleeping on a plank of wood every night. Have you no standards for good night’s trance? No wonder you’re so touchy all the time.”

He’s upon her in mere moments, an elegant hand finding the space just below her collar bone as he only answers her with a stern look. This thumb runs along the line of it, brushing against the skin as his eyes follow the motion. 

Rin looks down at the hand poised on her chest, so pale against the sun-warmed gold of her own, and brings her own up to run fingertips down the back of his. She swears she can see him shiver at the touch, a barely noticeable intake of his breath as her hand rests on top of his.

Astarion’s eyes cut up to hers, and with a raise of his brow, he pushes her backwards.

Rin lets him do it, lowering herself back with the help of his little push until her head hits his pillow, a rush of his scent surrounding her as she lays. His hand still rests on the skin of her chest, the weight of it like a scorching brand as she stares up at Astarion as he cages himself above her.

She doesn’t know what he sees when he looks down upon her, hair most likely curling in an unruly halo around her head and cheeks undoubtedly colored an unbecoming shade of pink, but his eyes run over what feels like every inch of her face before his hand begins to move, tracing a featherlight line down her skin. 

Her stomach jumps underneath the drag of his fingertips as his touch stops low, their eyes meeting together in a heated glance as Rin waits with bated breath.

Astarion’s head lowers towards her, and her heart beats a little faster at the thought of his lips meeting hers, the want she has been blatantly ignoring the past week begging to break free from its confines safe in the corner of her mind.

But instead, Astarion’s lips find her neck, placing a kiss on the two pinprick scars that decorate the column of it before running them across her skin—kissing over her collar, upon the peak of her breast, down her ribs one by one.

She gasps at the feeling as he drags his lips down her body, her skin flushed with desire.

He’s kissing the sensitive skin just below her stomach with teasing presses of his lips when she speaks, breathless and wanting. “Astarion, don’t you want to feed?”

Cool hands travel down the curve of her waist and over her hips before reaching her soft skin of her thighs, palms running over the tops of them as he settles himself in between her legs.

“Oh, I do.” Astarion makes to spread her thighs further, pushing them wide. “Don’t you worry, my dear, I’ll get my fill.”

Rin’s cheeks fill with heat as he moves his gaze to her bare center, running claret eyes over her as she sucks in a breath. With little ceremony, his head moves forward and his tongue glides along her center, lapping at her wetness. 

Her hips buck up into Astarion’s face as she reaches down to grab at his soft, downy curls as he circles the pearl at the top of her sex, the tip of his tongue light as he traces shapes along it.

He laps at her clit as she tries to quiet her mouth, holding back her moans and cries as best she can as he works her up ever higher. With a last circle, Astarion’s tongue ventures further down, abandoning her clit to instead run through her folds, groaning at the taste of her before exploring the wetness that has collected at her entrance. 

“Asta—” Rin gasps sharply as his tongue traces around the edge of her, so like he had with his finger earlier—ever teasing. He dips in her entrance, the tip of it whorling against her before pushing deeper. 

Her hands scrabble for purchase in his hair as he licks inside her, eating her out in earnest as her thighs tremble around his head. She swears that she can feel him chuckle against her as he tastes, tongue curling inside her as she grasps his soft curls harder between her fingers.

He thrusts his tongue deep and she keens, back arching off the bedroll as her hips roll against his mouth, chasing the heat coiling deep inside her with every press of his tongue. It’s a different sensation than that of his fingers, but no less welcome or wonderful as the feeling in her belly tightens more and more. 

She’s terribly close when his mouth leaves her, and she mourns the loss of his tongue for mere seconds before he fills her with fingers that press urgently, curling just right as his lips kiss their way to her thigh.

“Do it.” She spreads wider for him, and she can hear his satisfied hum against her skin before he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth in the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

The familiar ice of his bite hurts far too good, the frosty pain warring against the heat surging through her limbs as he drinks from her, blood running in scarlet rivulets down her thigh to stain the worn blanket beneath her.

Astarion’s messy as he drinks, her hips writhing in time with the fingers still artfully working inside her. Her back arches as she tries to quiet her cry, a fist curling into the threadbare blanket below her.

The metallic scent of iron tinges the air of the tent as he drinks and Rin can’t help the moan that falls from her open mouth at the feeling of his lips on her skin, sucking and licking and—gods, kissing. 

“There, please.” His fingers hit perfectly, over and over again, and her thighs tremble. “Please don’t stop.”

Astarion sucks hard at the bite as she begs, fingers keeping pace with the movement of her hips as he drinks down another surge of her blood. With only a few more presses of his fingers, curving just right to hit exactly where she needs him, Rin comes.

A hand unclenches from the blanket to cover her mouth as she muffles her moan into her palm, back arching as precious heat courses through her limbs and her hips writhe. 

Pleasure whites out her thoughts as Astarion fucks her through her orgasm with his fingers; lips and mouth still pullings sips of her blood from her thigh all the while.

She comes back to herself as his fingers slow and he peppers kisses to her leg, lapping up any stray drops as they fall from the wound. Astarion pulls his fingers from her gently, another hum of satisfaction breaking free as he brings them to his mouth and sucks, tongue licking her come clean from the digits.  

She’s still floating in a euphoric haze when Astarion finally rises from between her thighs, appetite sated and pale skin flushed with the slightest hint of pink from the blood that once belonged to her now flowing through his veins.

His mouth is glistening with her—her blood, her arousal, her scent. She’s entranced by the sight of it as Astarion licks his rouged lips, tongue swiping at a small drop of blood at the corner of his mouth that threatens to roll down his chin.

“Did I taste as good as you had hoped?” Rin’s chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath in the aftermath, the words no more than a whisper.

A corner of Astarion’s mouth lifts upward as he runs his eyes over her; from his mark on her thigh, over her sex, and up her flushed form beneath him until he meets her eyes. “Better.”

Rin’s breath hitches as he kisses his way back up her body with warmed lips, leaving a trail of red upon her skin with every touch of his lips, small blooms of her crimson blood like stains of watercolor.

He kisses up the valley between her breasts before turning his head, lips running over the plump curve of one before capturing her nipple, sucking at it before flicking his tongue against the bud. Rin’s back arches at the unexpected touch, more heat already kindling as he gives it a hard suck.

Astarion pops off her breast to kiss towards its twin, her hands burying back in his hair as he sucks at her other nipple, laving it with his tongue as a whine breaks free from her lips before she urges him higher, fingertips running through his curls. 

He obliges, placing one last kiss upon the tip of her breast before moving to bury his head in her neck, licking a line up the column of her throat, the very tip of his tongue tracing a thrumming vein.

Rin wraps her arms around his shoulders, hands running over the corded muscle as he slots himself between her legs, his still-clothed erection brushing against the too-sensitive skin of her thighs.

It simply wouldn’t do, she decides. 

“Let me touch you. Please,” she runs her hands down his chest to dance over his skin until she reaches the waistband of his pants, his cock painfully hard as it strains against the fabric. “I want to touch you, Astarion.”

She’s taking a chance by asking, but it’s one she’s willing to try her luck for.

Despite how many times she’s enjoyed the feeling of him inside her or how well he’s come to learn her body, he’s never quite allowed her the same opportunity to touch or taste him.

She knows enough of his past—he’s told her plenty of the many different people he had taken for Cazador against his will and under duress, his body used without the ability and choice to say no.  

“I want to make you feel good too, Astarion.” Rin peers up into his eyes, fingers no longer trailing along him as she pauses, waiting patiently for a real answer. “Do you trust me?”

His gaze is intense as it meets her own, the heated desire in his eyes tempering for a moment to give way to a tentative vulnerability that crosses over them as he considers her words. 

“I-” Astarion speaks softer than she had expected as he breaks off, gaze intent on hers as the weight of the implication that he has a choice—one that is his and his only to make—bears down on him. “—I do.”

“Only if you want me to. You have to promise me that you want it.” She urges, hands flattening on his abdomen as excitement stirs in her chest.

“Fine. I promise that I want it.” Astarion snaps, but his words lack any real bite as a corner of his lips quirk up into a crooked smile. “Show me what you’ve got, then, if you’re so eager.”

Rin moves slow as her hand slides back down his pants and over the curve of his hardened length, caressing him over the fabric as she feels him, cupping his length softly before flitting back up to join the other still at the waist of his pants.

Astarion’s breath catches at her touch before on his own hands comes down to help as she pushes the barrier down, freeing his length from the confines of his clothes. In a smooth motion, his pants and underwear are down his legs and off, baring his erection.

Precome shines at the tip of his cock as she runs her fingers down him in a barely there caress from top to bottom, his length twitching with the motion as Astarion draws in a harsh breath.

Her eyes stay on his as she grazes the soft skin again, watching for any sign she should stop as she runs her fingers along a prominent vein that runs along the side of him. 

He’s velvet soft under her palm as she wraps her fingers around his shaft, giving him an experimental pump of her hand, touch gentle as she revels in the feel of him.

“Is this alright?” Rin looks up at him from under lowered lashes.

Her hand glides up, brushing over the head of him as she collects the precome leaking from his slit, running her fingers over it before caressing down to the base once more. 

“By all means, please continue.” Rin knows he means for the words to be casual and unaffected, but there’s already a telling breathiness to Astarion’s words that has her smirking.

The weight of him in her hand is nothing short of perfect as she gently wraps her fist around him, stroking him. Astarion moans and it’s the easily one of the most beautiful things Rin’s ever heard, the sound of it sending a spike of heat to her core.

She brings her other hand to her mouth, running her tongue over her palm before it joins the other around his cock and the added bit of glide has Astarion gasping as his hips jump. 

His head falls heavy onto her shoulder as she works him, careful pumps of his length bringing him closer to the edge far faster than she ever thought possible with only her touch. 

His cock weeps as Rin glides her fingers over the crown of him again, collecting more of the precome that glistens at the tip. Her hands move together, one carefully massaging the head of his cock while the other strokes at the base, the breathy moans leaving Astarion’s lips only serving to spur her on further as she works him closer to the edge. 

“Does this feel good, Astarion?”

“Gods, yes.” He shudders in response, lips open against her skin as he presses a messy kiss into her shoulder.

Her palms move faster, intent on his undoing, his pleasure at her hands nothing short of exhilarating. 

Gods, she would let him come wherever he wanted. Onto her stomach, across her breasts, down her throat—the thought is enough to send another spark of electricity to her empty core.

“Ah, darling,” Astarion’s voice is tight as he buries his face deeper into her neck, hips bucking into her hand as she works him from the crown of his cock to the base, his breathing getting harder with every stroke. “Much more and you’ll spoil the main event.”

“I’ll stop, if that’s what you want.” Rin slows her motions as he catches his breath against the column of her throat, so close to his own completion she can practically feel it in the way his body shakes above her own, muscles quivering with the want of release. “But would it be so awful if you were to come like this? On my hands, all over my skin?”

Astarion raises his head from her neck, pupils blown wide and hair thoroughly disheveled as he pants. “Decidedly not, but I think I want to fill that sweet cunt of yours tonight instead.”

“If you say so.” She brings one of the hands that had been stroking him to her mouth, the tip of her tongue peeking out between her lips to lap at a shining string of precome still sticking to her skin, savoring the flavor of him for the very first time.

Astarion swallows hard, eyes fixated on the pink of her tongue as she wraps her mouth around the tip, sucking lightly. She smiles sweetly around it, lips pink and plush, as she sends him a wink.

With a soft pop, she pulls her finger out of her mouth before moving to twine her arms around his neck, running through the soft curls at his nape. “I wouldn’t mind getting to taste more of you, either, if you’d let me.”

“Salacious girl. Whatever am I supposed to do with you?” That same fondness from earlier sneaks back into his words as she gazes up at him with as much innocence as she can muster.

“Hmm,” Rin muses, pretending to think through her answer as her fingers toy with his hair. “Whatever you want, I suppose.” 

“Whatever I want?” Astarion’s brows raise in mock surprise. “You might come to regret those words, darling.”

“I find that sometimes I don’t mind being at your mercy.”

“Your self-preservation instincts need some reevaluating, my dear.”

“Is that what you think?” She laughs as her fingertips abandon his wild curls to dance absentmindedly across the lines of his shoulders.

“What I think is that these wandering hands of yours are trouble.” Astarion leans down to whisper into her ear, a smirk decorating his lips as they brush against the point of them. “It’s a pity I don’t have any pretty ribbon at my disposal to tie them up with.”

Nimble fingers move to find and circle her wrists with surprising delicacy as he removes them from around his neck to instead guide her arms up to rest around her head. 

Desire pools deep in her belly at the mere mention and she doesn’t even try to fight against Astarion’s hold, not when there’s nothing she wants more than to be at the mercy of his hands. 

“So, you’ll just have to be a good girl and keep these up here for me.” His hands encircle her wrists so very easily as he applies the slightest bit of pressure on them to illustrate his point. “Can you do that? I know you have a very hard time following directions.” 

“I’ll try my hardest, but I make no promises.”

His hands slide down from her own where he left them resting above her head as he rises back to his knees, running over her breasts to anchor at her waist before he takes in the sight of her—warm skin and eyes bright and utterly alive. 

He fits perfectly between her thighs as he moves his hips to slide his length through her folds, her slick coating him with every pass.

“No touching,” Astarion tuts. “Don’t forget.”

“Like I said, no promises. But I’ll give it a fair shot.” Rin grinds her hips against his erection, still gliding up and down her slit.

Astarion’s only response is a raise of his brow as he positions himself at her entrance, the head of his cock barely pressing against her as he smirks, moving his hips away every time she tries to move hers forward.

Teasing. Always, always teasing.

Rin rolls her hips against his own as Astarion finally pushes forward, hilting himself inside her warmth in a smooth thrust, twin moans escaping from their lips at the feeling as he fills her completely.

His hands caress down to her thighs where they open for him, thumbs running up and down soft skin marred only by the red of his own bite, the marks smeared with still drying blood.

Astarion’s hips finally move, pulling away from hers only to push forward again until he bottoms out, burying himself deep. Rin relishes the feel of him moving inside her with a soft moan as she throws her head back against his pillow, back arching as he settles his hands on her hips to pull her deeper onto his cock.

His thumbs grip into her skin as he thrusts into her, hips meeting her own with long, deep strokes that have her trying and failing to hold back the little noises of pleasure that loose from her lips.

She yearns to move her hands from where they still rest above her head—yearns to drag her fingers across his skin or wrap her arms around his neck to draw him closer to her—but she resists the temptation, settling on moving her hips instead.

Rin grinds against his cock buried deep inside her as she moves her hips to match his own, thrust for thrust, the slide of him achingly flawless as they move together.  

“Gods, you’re absolutely perfect.” The words slip out of Astarion’s lips, murmured low on a hard thrust. She tightens around him as the praise washes over her, lips opened on a barely restrained whimper as her lashes lower.

He’s more than beautiful in the darkness as he throws his head back on a moan, the drag of his cock smooth as he hits deep and she craves more—more closeness, more of his touch, more of his lips. 

“Kiss me,” she gasps and instantly regrets the words and the desperation of them as her hands still lay obediently above her head, her back arching with every thrust.

Astarion’s hips stutter, losing their rhythm as he looks down at her, fixating on the petal pink of her lips, and Rin’s heart practically stops at what she sees when he looks at her.

A hand traces its way up from her hip to grab hold of her chin, touch firm as Astarion’s eyes move away from her lips to stare into her own, searching for something in the verdant depths of them. His gaze is alight with a precious heat that threatens to burn every inch of her—the fire she’s secretly dreamed of seeing there in his eyes when he looks at her.

His lips crash into hers with no words or preamble, meeting her half way as she surges her head up and their lips press together. Her arms lift, leaving their resting place above her head to wrap around his neck as Astarion’s tongue runs against the seam of her lips in askance, her own parting eagerly for him.

She can taste the remnants of herself on his lips, both the richness of her cunt and the metallic tang of her blood; and it’s heady, it’s divine as his lips chase after her own as they kiss and kiss and kiss, his hips still joined with hers all the while.

The hand that had been poised on her chin strokes upward, running over the plane of her cheek in a barely there touch that has her heart stuttering as their lips move.

Gods, she’d been wishing for the feeling of his lips on hers, and if the only way she can get it is when he fucks her, then so be it. 

It’s not the only kind of kiss she wants from him but it’s the kiss she will take, desperate despite her every wish otherwise.

She’s gasping when Astarion finally breaks the kiss, taking in precious breaths of air as his lips lift only just away from hers. His hips slow and Rin looks questioningly up at Astarion, arms still twined tightly around his neck.

A small burst of panic bubbles up in her chest as she feels him slide out her, hips pulling away from hers to leave her empty; and worry that she had perhaps done something wrong or said something she shouldn’t have fills her mind. 

“Astarion? Is everything alright? Did I—” she cuts herself off as the hand at her cheek brushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear while its twin travels up her thigh to curve around her waist, urging her body upwards with a gentle pull.

“Let’s try something a little different, hm? Now, up.”

His hold is tight—secure—as they both shift to sitting, Astarion helping her along the way until she is upright in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs as she hovers.

“Now, tell me, sweet thing. Have you ever been fucked like this before?” His eyes pierce into her own as a hand curls around the back of her head, fingers tangling in her curls.

“No.” Rin shakes her head from side to side, biting her lip as his length finds her entrance once more, pushing with the barest hint of pressure against her.

“Good.” 

With a swift thrust, Astarion sheathes himself inside of her as his lips capture hers, swallowing her answering moan as Rin arches against his chest. The hand wrapped around her waist travels down, fingertips squeezing into the flesh of her ass to help guide her hips up and down his cock.

They’re on equal footing like this, noses brushing against each other’s as their bodies work, Rin’s hips meeting Astarion’s own in a smooth cadence. The closeness—the intimacy of it—is intoxicating as their lips meet again and again, arms wrapped around each other as their fingertips dig into each other’s skin.

It’s not as fast or as hard as she’s used to, but somehow it’s better—the lack of quick thrusts is made up for instead by hard rolls of their hips, Astarion reaching the deepest part of her core as they hold each other close, not an bit of space between them.

His length brushes against what feels like every inch of her walls, sending sparks through her body as the heat coiling in her stomach rises higher with every move they make.

Rin is only mildly aware of the marks he left on her thigh breaking open once more, tiny drops of her blood leaving ruby red smears against both her and Astarion’s flesh as her hands map the planes of his face and their lips press.

Any other time, she would be blushing at the noise of their bodies moving together, the wet glide of his length driving in and out of her and the sound of skin on skin audible in the confines of Astarion’s tent; but instead she’s unabashed as she moves up and down his cock and he thrusts up to meet her, moans falling freely from both of their mouths as their kiss breaks.

She’s getting closer and she can tell he is too, the intensity of his thrusts only getting harder and deeper as every roll of his hips has his length brushing against her sweet spot as she loses her rhythm against him as her body begins to quake.

“Eyes on me.” Astarion’s forehead presses into hers as her lashes flutter, the height of her pleasure curling around her, ephemeral and just out of reach.

The heat burning inside her reaches a crescendo, his name whispered from her lips on a broken gasp as her hold on him tightens, fingertips digging into his skin.

She’s tremulous as she tightens around him and he kisses her moans from her, quieting the sound of them as her hands grasp for purchase around his shoulders and he pumps his cock, hitting the very same spot that never fails to have her falling apart in his arms. 

Rin sees stars behind her eyes as she tumbles over the edge of the crest, constricting hard on him as she comes on a near silent cry. Her hips writhe as Astarion holds her steady despite the ragged moan that falls from his lips as he watches her fall apart with half-lidded eyes.

She’s clinging to him as she rides out the rest of her orgasm on the hardened length still thrusting inside her, Astarion working her through the waves of pleasure that suffuse through her limbs.

A dreamy, hazy euphoria descends over her like a fog as she finally comes back to herself, her first thought to press another kiss to the pair of lips that still brush against hers. 

Rin takes a lungful of air on a deep breath, beginning to move her hips against his once more despite the contented exhaustion blanketing her as she speaks with a soft, teasing lilt. “I thought you were going to come in my sweet cunt, Astarion.”

“Still the plan, darling.” Astarion’s lost in his own pleasure as he speaks, eyes fixated on her own as his hips snap hard into hers.

The hand on her ass tightens, fingertips near bruising as Astarion’s thrusts begin lose their rhythm in the wake her orgasm, the feeling of her cunt spasming around his length as she had come only serving to drive him closer to his own completion.

Her fingertips run down his cheek as he looks at her, his control breaking on every push of his hips that she meets readily.

“Then do it,” She whispers. “Please come for me, Astarion.” 

Rin presses her mouth to his in a hard kiss, gasping as he changes the angle of his thrusts to hit the very end of her cunt.

At her words, Astarion follows her over the edge, moaning his ecstasy into her lips as he comes. His hips rut frantically against hers, spilling himself inside her with unrestrained thrusts. 

Rin grasps him tighter as his orgasm rushes through him, taking each and every sound that falls from him as he works through the waves of pleasure coursing through his limbs. 

Finally, Astarion’s hips slow to a halt as their chests heave, still locked in their embrace, the haze of the aftermath floating around them. His lips press against hers one last time before he ducks his head to fit against her neck, breathing in the scent of her.  

Rin’s not sure how long they stay like that, both catching their breath as her arms hang loose around him, Astarion’s face still buried in her neck as his fingers grip around waist. 

Eventually, it’s Astarion who moves first, gently pulling his softened cock from her as he lifts his head and leans back towards his bedroll, taking her down with him. 

They lay next to each other on the ruined blanket, a light sheen of sweat sticking to their skin.

“That was—” Astarion starts, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to push it out of his face.

Rin finishes the sentence for him, her heart still beating in a staccato rhythm. “Amazing? Fantastic? The best sex you’ve ever had?”

“Well, you think quite highly of yourself, don’t you?” Astarion turns his head to face her, brow raised.

Rin leans in, bumping their foreheads together in a light touch before whispering her reply on a smile. “That wasn’t a no.”

Astarion rolls her eyes and she laughs, and she swears she can see the slightest hint of pink coloring his cheeks, no doubt from the help of her blood still running through him.

He sits up, stretching his arms above his head, the muscles in his back shifting and Rin lets out an appreciative hum at the sight. 

“Oh, and Astarion.” Rin smiles as she rolls her shoulders, settling further into the blanket. “If you burn my shirt, I will be forced to take action. Possibly with a knife. Just so we’re clear.”

His head whips back to glance at her, a wicked look in his eye. “Flirting again already? Give me a moment to recover, dearest.” 

Astarion’s eyes skate down her naked form, still lying in a boneless heap upon his bedroll. 

“Gods, look at you. You’re an absolute mess.” She can feel the blood drying on her thighs and on the spots where he had left bloodied kisses up her body, his come threatening to spill out of her with even the slightest movement. “Get ahold of yourself, darling.”

“An absolute mess that you made.” Rin peeks down to look at herself, skin still flushed and dotted with red marks in the vague shape of his lips.

“I’d gladly make it again, too.” Astarion turns back to the side, reaching for a spare decanter of presumably water and grabbing a piece of soft cloth.

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.” 

She takes in the bloodied blanket beneath her as she hazards a stretch, reaching her arms above her head as her feet point, back arching as she comes up to her elbows. 

“Has anyone ever told you that your bedroll is absolutely awful? How you manage to sleep on something so hard is beyond my ability to imagine. We should steal you a new one.”

Even with the awful plank beneath her, it would be so easy to stay on a night like tonight. Too easy to imagine settling into his side, the now familiar contours of his body beside her own as they rested together, limbs tangling. She’s never slept in anyone’s arms before that she can remember, and she wonders how it must feel to spend hours simply wrapped in Astarion’s embrace and then to wake up next to him at first light.

Please ask me to stay. 

The words come from a deep, dark part of her mind unbidden; but the wanting they bring with them threatens to ruin her as her heart beats harder.

“Or you could always come share mine, I guess. I promise I’ll keep you nice and warm.” It’s a risk speaking those kind of words, Rin crossing a line they’ve never dared to before.

Astarion’s body tenses slightly, the line of his shoulders stiffening.

He dips the mouth of the decanter over onto a spare cloth to wet it before turning back to her, expression strangely blank. The sight of it puts her ill at ease, as if the warm intimacy they had shared had been snuffed out like a candle’s flame. 

Astarion runs the cloth over her form, erasing any evidence of him from her skin. His spend, the blood on her thighs, the messy kisses up her chest—all of it gone with a simple brush of water on cloth.

She nods her thanks, her heart sinking as regret burns in her throat. 

“Well, it’s been lovely. You’re always such a treat.” Astarion summons a veil across his eyes, an empty smirk on his lips as he sets the cloth to the side. “You should go get some sleep, darling. Who knows who else you’ll need to convince to kill themselves tomorrow.”

It’s like a slap to the cheek—cold water to wake her from the warm embrace of a dream. It wasn’t the first time he had said such words to her, but this is the first time she realizes that she hates them with every fibre of her being.

“Oh.” She bites her lip, hoping she hides her disappointment well enough; but from the way Astarion averts his gaze to focus on an invisible point on other side of the tent, she doesn’t need to worry much. “I suppose you do need your beauty sleep, don’t you? Far be it from me to get in the way.”

Rin doesn’t want to hear what he has to say, she decides, as she pulls herself up to sitting beside him. She’s not certain she can look at him either, not at the cool and aloof expression that seems to have taken residence across his features. 

He hadn’t looked like that when he kissed her. 

No, he had looked the exact opposite, his expression mirroring the longing she knows had been etched onto her own as their lips had met.

Without a word, Rin stands and walks over the blankets heaped along the floor to where her clothes lay discarded in a heap, her footsteps soft against the ground. 

Silently, she redresses, not bothering with the corset as she leaves it unlaced at her feet and pulls the rest of her clothes back on with perfunctory ease. Her tunic is partially over her head when she dares a look back at Astarion, the collar floating down to rest against her skin as she turns her head.

His face is imperceptible as he watches her, sitting still as stone. She forces a small smile, hoping that the dejection she feels doesn’t come across as she speaks to him one last time for the evening.

“Sleep well, Astarion.”

Astarion nods his head, a clear dismissal if she’s ever seen one. “Until the morning, darling.”

Until the morning, indeed. 

Until the morning, where they’ll pretend everything is fine and nothing has changed as they play around each other in some sort of tiring, endless game.

And maybe Astarion can. Maybe, for him, nothing ever did change.

Rin doesn’t know quite what it is that they are building towards; but between the little bits of their lives shared with one another, the tiny little secrets that bare ragged pieces of their souls, the long evenings spent by the side of the fire laughing and talking and playing games, between the kisses and caresses and the meeting of their eyes—it feels like something.

Something more than simply being bedmates.

With a single, deep breath she reaches down to grab her corset, collecting it in hand as she turns and walks out the front flap of his tent without another look back, unable to promise she can keep her expression even in the face of his seemingly cold indifference. 

Rin keeps her eyes ahead as she walks by the campfire, Gale politely looking the other way, not commenting on how she must look or what he must have heard—her hair is undoubtedly a mess, corset rumpled in hand, lips still too swollen to be confused with being anything other than readily kissed.

She withholds the sigh that threatens to break free as she makes her way towards her tent, and she’s grateful that at least there is no one else by the fire to witness the utterly pathetic sight of her as she keeps her eyes straight forward. 

“I hope you know what you are doing.” Gale’s voice stops her before she can step into her tent, and she freezes, shifting the corset in hand in hopes of hiding it better, though she knows it’s useless. “I say this with the utmost respect, you understand. As your friend.”

Rin can hear the slightest bit of judgment in the words despite the kindness of them but she shakes it off. She probably deserves his judgment, in the end.

She pastes a weak smile on her face, squeezing the corset tighter in her hand as she turns to look at the wizard where he sits by the fire, a familiar spell book in hand. 

“It’s all good Gale, nothing to worry about. I promise.”

“I trust your judgement, then. Sleep well, my friend.” Gale gives her a polite nod, but the look on his face says that he’s thoroughly unconvinced by her words.

Such aspiring confidence her companions have in her, it seems.

Rin certainly doesn’t blame him for it.

She can barely convince herself of the fact, after all.

With one last sigh she walks through the flap of her tent, letting it flutter shut behind her as she steps inside the familiar surroundings she now calls home.

It smells like it always does, jasmine and honey hanging in the air, and not a one of her possessions is out of place—however few of them she has. 

But as she drops the corset on the ground, she can’t help but feel that something is missing.

Hands come up to cover her eyes as she presses the heel of her palms into them, hoping to rid her mind of such thoughts, however there’s no comfort to be found as shapes swirl on the back of her eyelids.

If she had any sense at all, she would quit while she was still ahead and could leave somewhat unscathed from whatever this thing growing between them is.

But she knows herself better than that.

She knows that, instead of stopping this and sparing herself the almost inevitable promise of pain that their little affair will bring, she will pull herself back together just in time to face the darkness of the morning and pretend that everything is just fine—all the while knowing deep down that she will keep making the same mistake over and over again and relish it every single time.

[o-wyrmlight]

Context: The end of Chapter 12 of A Toast to the Pigs. Or: Kim takes the jump into the harbor first.

[a-very-fond-farewell]

>.>

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro

check out my buy me a coffee!

[milkpup]

｡⋆ʚ♡ bad luck comes in threes (and in me)

›› nsfw 18+ / 3 part fic

@ace_343 on twt

ch 2 ♡ ch 3

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› naoya zenin x f!reader ›› megumi fushiguro x f!reader ›› toji fushiguro x f!eader ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi / megumi x f!reader x toji ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi + toji ›› started: 1/12/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are close friends. He invites you to his family's estate where you start to notice how bad your luck really is.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, pseudo-incest (they all want y/n, not eachother), harsh language, abuse, power imbalance, dubious consent / rxpe / noncon

‹𝟹 tags: AGED UP CHARACTERS!, au - no deaths, au - toji and megumi are part of zenin clan still, power imblance, degradation, choking, loss of virginity, name calling, pet names, some fluff and LOTS OF SMUT, slight angst, all the zenins want you basically, vaginal, blow jobs, cunnilingus, face sitting, 4some, mdom, fsub, pseudo-incest, meet the family, breeding, cum as lube, cum swapping, light blood, aggressive choking, will update tags as more is added, praise, being called a good girl

‹𝟹 notes: this is a long time in the making. i probably started this fic over a month ago >< i've been working on it more than my lfls fic that i like more. just smthn abt naoya...... (usually i prefer naoya to be subby but this fic is diff oopsies :3!). lmk what y'all think.i'll be updating my other fic real soon but for now, crumbs of this i guess LOL. i was originally going to do a oneshot but it was already starting to get long and i hadn't even progressed much in the plot i have written up x-x so i figured i'd do 3 chaps since it's like the theme >:3 hope y'all like it!!!

i'll be updating tags as it progresses. i'm super excited abt this fic even tho it's like 99% smut. (idk how to write stuff w/o smut oops) what can i say??? 🤌

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 1: Exposed

“So, do you think you can make it?” Megumi asks, taking a sip of his coffee and looking at you inquisitively. “To my family event, the reunion thing, I mean.”

You hadn’t thought about it much. Sipping on your tea, you contemplated. You’ve never met Megumi’s extended family; you had no idea what they would be like. Megumi’s family is huge, and it would be a multi-day event held at their estate. “Oh, what the hell. I have nothing better to do during winter break anyways.”

His face lights up a bit at your confirmation, but Megumi tries his hardest to hide it. You can see the blush creeping across his nose, his cheeks, even reaching the tips of his ears. He was like a little puppy, excited to see you.

“Make sure to bring any nice clothes you want to wear, but there will be pajamas and toiletries provided to you.” He finished his drink and moved to throw his away. “Are you done too?”

You felt bad, you had a little bit of your tea left and he was patiently waiting for you to finish to throw your trash away for you. You hurriedly suck up the remainder of the tea through the straw, and hand him the empty cup. “Thanks, Megs.” You chirp.

Megumi blushes and looks away as he takes your cup from your hands.

--

You’re back at your house, frantically packing last minute before Megumi comes over to pick you up. You’ve always been an overpacker, and you have no idea what to expect. You throw all sorts of garments into a pile that you want to take: casual clothes like leggings and hoodies, dresses and formalwear, and intimates. You blush, picking up matching sets of underwear and bras. You decide to toss them onto the pile anyways, better prepared than not. You didn’t know who you were “preparing” for, but felt your cheeks flush anyways. I’m meeting my close friend’s extended party and I’m packing lingerie, am I a fucking creep? You shake your head, trying to shake the thoughts out too.

You finish stuffing your clothes into your bags, packing some makeup and skincare that they probably wouldn’t have available. Just as you finish zipping your second bag, you hear a loud knock on the front door. It’s Megumi.

You open the door with a soft smile, greeting Megumi. “Thanks for picking me up Megs! Can you help me with my other bag?”

He looks down to where you’re gesturing, noticing the other bag. “Jeez ____, it’s a 3 day party. How many clothes do you need?”

You blush, sheepishly. “I just want to be prepared… y’know?” Megumi huffs and groans before picking up both bags. A lady should never have to carry her own bags, and he noticed it seemed like you were struggling with how heavy these bags were, being packed to the absolute brim.

“T-thanks, Megs.” You croak out as you follow behind him to his car. He doesn’t reply, hoisting your bags in the trunk before slamming it shut. You open the door and sit in the passenger side, buckling your seatbelt with an audible click. He gets in shortly after you, adjusting his seatbelt and turning the car on. 

The silence is thick, but not awkward. You and Megumi were comfortable around each other, not requiring a word to be said as you sat in comfortable silence on the drive to his family’s estate. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you ask Megumi, breaking the silence, “So what are the plans for the event? How big is it going to be, anyways?”

Megumi answers you, not taking his eyes off the road. “It will have pretty much my entire family, extended family, and family friends. There’s lots to do at our estate, from the gardens, movie room, bar room, and more. As for planned events, music and lots of food, maybe dancing?” His tone ends questioningly, he knows his family isn’t particularly fond of frivolous activities like dancing, but there might still be some as more people loosen up.

You nod, taking in his answer. This sounds almost a little exciting. Much better than spending time holed up in your room, studying or watching youtube.

--

Megumi pulled up to the grandiose estate. “Wow Gumi, I knew your family was loaded…. But not THIS loaded,” You gasped in awe. The entire property was large enough to be a mini village. You were shocked, to say the least. The beautiful landscaping, trees, the koi pond that connected into a river surrounding the main building… it was all too beautiful.

“Yeah, they are wealthy on a whole different level,” he responds, as he pops the trunk and retrieves your bags. “Usually they have servants around, but I’ll show you around the estate myself instead.” He starts walking towards the front entrance, you follow him closely behind, not wanting to get lost.

Megumi doesn’t even have to open the door, servants inside let him in as soon as he approaches. He briskly walks along the pavilion, turning left towards a long corridor. You try to match pace, but his long legs gives him an advantage. You take this moment, a few paces behind Megumi, to admire his raven locks bouncing as he walked.

As you’re walking, you pass an entryway, seeing a few figures to your right. Someone clicks their tongue. “I see my cousin Megumi understands,” he starts, eyes following your figure as you walk past him, “that a woman’s place is three steps behind a man’s.” This mysterious man, related to Megumi, smirks as your figure disappears.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s so full of shit it’s festering,” Megumi spits out. He seems to really hate whoever that guy was. Megumi leads you to a room down a quiet corridor and opens the door. “This will be your room for the next few nights,” He announces as he enters the room and sets your bags down. “My room is on the other side of the estate. These are the guest rooms. We can check mine out later, if you’re interested.” He flushes at that last part, looking down and uncomfortably shifting his weight. “Anyways, I have to clean up before dinner in an hour. I’ll be back to see you soon.’

Megumi retreats from your room and closes the door behind him. You decide to unpack, putting things in the drawers and hanging some items in the closet. The room was quite spacious, with its own bathroom attached and adjacent to this room.

You haven’t finished unpacking yet but decided to take a quick shower just to freshen up. You scope out the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind you. Turning the shower on to a scalding hot temp, you wait for it to heat up as steam fills the bathroom. You strip and enter the shower.

--

He stalks the hallway you were walking through but a moment ago. He’s insanely curious as to what you look like up close, intrigued by your fleeting form as you walked by behind Megumi. He wondered if you were his toy, you following Megumi like a puppy definitely gave off that message.

He can still smell a lingering scent of citrus and flowers. He knows it’s you, because women of the clan are usually not permitted to walk this side of the estate anyways. He’s following your trail, like a predator following its prey. He sees the faint glow of light coming from the crack of a door and approaches it.

He knocks once. No response. He knocks twice. Still nothing. Naoya Zenin believed he was a gentleman, but he had his limits. This was his future estate, he believed he had every right to know every single thing going on under this roof.

He lets himself in, and immediately sees the cracked bathroom door, a bit of steam escaping. He hears you humming while taking a shower, and smirks. He silently closes the door, and makes his way towards your plush bed. He sees a bag open, clothes strewn about. Something frilly and lacy catches his eye, and he walks towards the table instead. He picks the article of clothing up, noticing he was holding a black thong, laces and bows, adorned with gems along the thin waistband. He licked his lips, unholy thoughts flooding his brain.

He hears you shut off the shower, and quickly pockets the garment, swiftly moving to sit on the edge of the bed. A few moments pass, and the door of the bathroom swings open. Steam floods your room, quickly dissipating. You have a towel wrapped around your body, still humming as you walk towards your pile of clothes. You had set a specific set on top to put on after your shower. You could have sworn the thong was there, but as you rummaged through your bag the garment was nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for these, little miss?” You gasp and turn around to see a man sitting on your bed, holding up your thong with 1 finger, while smirking and eyeing you down. You nearly drop your towel, but regain composure.

“Who are you?” You ask, unsure of why a strange man you’ve never seen before let himself into your room.

“My apologies, doll, I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Naoya Zenin. I’m set to be the next heir of the clan and estate,” he smirks, “And I figured I should personally introduce myself to you. It would be impolite of me not to do so. Who are you?”

“I’m _____, Megumi’s friend. He invited me over to meet all his family.” His ears perked up at you mentioning your friendship with Megumi, a devious thought crossing. You were still in your towel, cold air further cooling your already wet skin.

“You didn’t answer my first question, little miss. Were you planning on wearing these?” He practically spins the panties around his finger, staring you down intently. “I didn’t think such a good girl would bring something like this to wear when meeting her friend’s family…” He trails off.

A blushes creeps along your face, you didn’t think someone would know. You didn’t think someone would barge into your room, look through your clothes, and tease you about it. You couldn’t even look Naoya in the eye, shame clearly on display on your features.

“Don’t worry, woman, I won’t tell anyone. You wouldn’t want your close friend, Megumi, to know about this right? I won’t tell; however, my silence has a price.” He finishes his comment, smirking at you. His sultry gaze was locked on you, scanning your body from head to toe. He grinned and licked his lips, thinking about how he could manipulate you.

“What do you mean?” You look up at him, confused and unsure about the situation. “What do I have to do?” At that question, Naoya lifts himself from your bed to make his way towards you. His gaze never once leaving yours, making intense eye contact that sent shivers down your spine and left you trembling. You felt like prey being stalked by a predator.

Naoya is right in front of you now, as he grabs both wrists with his hands and lifts them above your head. You’re startled but have no time to react as he pushes you against a wall, wrists pinned above you. You can feel Naoya’s hot breath tickling your cheek, making you lose all sense of rationality. He grins at you, looking down as he has you in a position you can’t easily free yourself from. Your head hangs low, looking down, trying to stifle your heavy breathing. You don’t want him to know his actions are affecting you.

“I know women are dumb, but seriously, how can you not know what I mean? At least you’re pretty….” He leaves his sentence unfinished, bringing a cold hand to your chin and tilting your head to look at him. “Little miss, I’ll explain it to you once, in an easy way to understand. I want to use you. Your body, specifically. Will you be a good girl and let me? Or do you want me to make you.” Naoya’s tone drops a bit, almost grunting at the end. Thoughts about what “using you” entails floods your mind. You’re inexperienced, but not entirely clueless. Your blush deepens as you look into his eyes, now peering down at you.

You didn’t think being degraded and praised in the span of a few seconds would entice you as much as it would. Normally you’re a very independent woman, fully capable of realizing your own dreams and pursuing your own goals. But something… something about being put down but also called a good girl sent you driving up the wall with insanity. You were hooked near instantly.

“Yes sir,” you meekly respond, looking up at Naoya. Your emotions and lust are on clear display for him, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Good girl.” He smirks. “Just to be clear, I have very specific tastes and like to be pleased in a certain way. Try and make me proud, you dumb whore.” Your cheeks flared red at the insult. “Open your mouth, cunt.”

You made no hesitation to fulfill his command. He still had a firm grip on your chin, leaning down as he spit into your mouth. “Swallow, princess.” He instructs as he pushes your mouth closed. You comply, feeling more heat pooling between your legs. “Good girl,” he purrs as you open your mouth to show him.

He leans back into you, lips crashing into yours. He nips at your bottom lip, drawing a tiny bit of blood as he goes back to kissing you. He can taste the blood mixed with both of your saliva as he forces his tongue into your mouth, trying to push his way into every part of you he can. His hand previously at your chin is moving down toward your neck, resting into a firm grip across your neck. You can still breathe, but the firm pressure while he’s sloppily kissing you elicits a few soft moans from you into his mouth. You can’t tell, but he’s grinning as his grip increases a bit. He pulls away before taunting you, “Do you like that? Huh? Are you a masochist or something?” He’s not relenting, grip strengthening as you’re looking up at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

You’re unable to speak, so you try to nod your head to show him that he’s right. He notices and loosens his grip before moving his hand towards your chest. “Good girl,” he praises you. “I like that.” He leaves kisses in a trail from your lips to your neck, kissing over the faint marks his hands left before. You’re still against the wall, hands above your head, and he released his other grip before picking you up and carrying you to your bed.

“Next time, I want to see you wear that slutty fucking lingerie you brought. You’re such a dirty girl.” He peers down at you as you’re left exposed on your bed. He’s crawling above you, pushing you into the mattress. He gives you a few impatient kisses before moving back to your chest, grabbing one of your breasts while his mouth moves to the other. His other hand is fervently roamed your body, moving down your tummy towards your hips and eventually resting on your thigh. His hands were soft but rough trailing along your skin, as if he was searching for something.

Naoya’s hand slips to your inner thigh, just shy of your exposed cunt. He lightly grips it as he starts leaving a trail of kisses down your body as he took his hand from your breast and pushed your thighs apart. He left love bites and marks as he made his way to your cunt, stopping to look up at you. He grinned as he spit on one of his fingers, prodding its way through your folds to find your clit. He’s been with many women, and although he has an arrogant attitude, he does know exactly how to please a woman.

He rubs circles around your clit as his mouth leaves a little bite mark against your inner thigh. You softly moan at the pain as Naoya’s eyes flick up to meet yours. Although you can’t see it, you’re sure he has that asshole smirk of his. Your suspicions are pretty much confirmed when he says “Are you some masochist? Some dumb bitch who likes to be hurt. For real?” You think you heard a laugh as he moved his finger down to your hole, spitting some more before he fucked you with a finger. You didn’t need any more lube, you were practically drenched. He pushed his finger in, feeling how tight your hole was with only one of his fingers.

“You have the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt. I’m impressed. Are you a virgin too?” He looked up at you, expecting an answer.

“Yeah..” You tried to hide your face with your hands, embarrassed at your lack of experience. Naoya saw it differently though. His cock twitched in his pants as you replied, and he started moving his finger inside your tight cunt. He loved hearing the little moans you make as he slipped his finger in and out, a lewd wet sound filling the room. He was trying to get you used to it, but he was getting impatient. He was already working harder for any woman he’s ever been with.

His mouth moved above your clit, tongue flicking around the sensitive bud as he slipped in another long finger into your hole. He curled and scissored his fingers, trying to stretch you as his fingers fucked you faster. Your face was flush with embarrassment as you still tried to contain some of your moans. One more finger slipped in, stretching your walls while he moved above you, face aligned with yours.

He kept fingering your cunt as he aggressively kissed you, biting your lip before he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could feel yourself come closer to the edge, your core tightening. You were moaning into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck pulling his body closer into yours.

“Fuck... Naoya…” you whined out as you felt the thread about to snap, “I’m gonna—cum!!” His fingers slammed into your cunt as he was leaving marks along your neck. You felt your walls tighten around his fingers as he expertly prepped your cunt for the main event.

“You’re such a good girl… I almost feel bad taking your virginity. Almost.” Naoya takes out his fingers, sucking on a few of them to taste you. He pushes one of his fingers into your mouth, commanding you to taste your own cunt.  “Next time I’ll taste you myself… but I can’t wait any longer,” he says as he’s taking off his shirt and pants, pulling down his briefs to expose his large cock. He moves up above you again, grabbing your legs by the ankle as his body is pushed against yours. He’s putting you in a mating press. He moves the tip to your entrance and spits on his cock before slowly pushing inside, feeling your tight walls around his girthy cock.

He gives you time to adjust, but it isn’t nearly enough. Naoya has been kind enough, but he always takes what he wants. Still, he will be nice one last time. “I’m gonna fuck you how I want to now, okay whore? You’re gonna be a good girl and take it anyways, right?” He gives you no time to prepare as he slams into you, bottoming out, forcibly deflowering you. The pain hurts, but Naoya is relentless. He pulls out and briefly gives you a moment of respite before slamming his cock back into your cunt. Despite the pain, the feeling is like never before as his body is pushed against yours, cock ramming in and out of your hole. Your cute moans are like music to his ears.

He leans down towards your face, seeming like he’s going to kiss you but instead spits on you. He moves a hand to grasp around your throat as you’re looking up at, unable to make any sound as his cock abuses your hole. The pressure and lack of air make your head feel dizzy as he spits again, degrading you. “You like that too, huh, stupid slut.” He hips pick up speed, pulling out before repeatedly bottoming out into your cunt. He lets go of your neck, allowing you to gasp for air. He would never admit it, but the sound of you struggling to breathe drives him insane.

He spits on his hand and moves it to your clit, fervently rubbing your bud, bringing you closer to your second orgasm of the night. You feel the waves of pleasure overwhelm your body as he’s raw dogging your cunt and relentlessly abusing your clit. Your moans are laced with pleasure, dripping with your ecstasy as you cum over Naoya’s cock, tightening your walls around him.

Naoya mercilessly fucks your virgin hole like he deserves it, like it’s owed to him. Whatever he wants, he gets. He’s grunting as moaning as he picks up speed, fucking you like an animal. “Hey bitch, ah fuck—I’m gonna cum in you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl alright?” He lightly slaps your face as he’s finishing his sentence, bottoming out for the last time before he slams back inside your cunt and paints your insides white. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you; there’s so much of it that it leaks out, a lewd sight before Naoya as he looks down at where you’re both connected. Before he can pull out and clean himself, the door to the guest room slightly creaked open as if it had been left ajar, not fully closed. Naoya cursed himself for not closing and locking the door.

--

Megumi had been standing there for not even 5 minutes when he went to check on you and bring you to dinner. He was approaching your room when he heard faint moaning coming from your room.  He was confused and curious, stopping in front of your door as he noticed it was left slightly open. What he saw left him shocked and speechless, unable to move or avert his gaze through the crack.

He heard you more than he could see you clearly, but your moans that are more beautiful than a symphony of angels was more than enough to make Megumi’s cock strain in his pants. He peered closer, unable to see who was fucking you but still able to see your bodies colliding. He couldn’t deny how erotic it was to see you get fucked, but a twang of jealousy and pain struck his heart that he wasn’t the one making your body shake in pleasure.

He hears a voice, it sounds familiar although he can’t quite place it, telling you he’s about to cum. Megumi leans forward more, slightly pushing the door as he watches the other man breed you. Just as the door squeaks, the man’s head whips to see the door and he makes eye contact with Megumi.

--

“____, what are you doing?” Megumi questions as he practically stumbles into the room. You lift your head to see Megumi looking at you and Naoya in horror. Shame and embarrassment overcome you, and you move to cover yourself with some blankets as Naoya got off of you and faced Megumi,

“I think it’s more appropriate to ask what are you doing, Megumi?” Naoya’s staring daggers into Megumi; he’s unaffected that his family member caught him in a compromising position, almost as if he’s used to it.

“I was coming to get ___ for dinner… I didn’t realize she was busy being a disgusting fucking whore and sleeping with my family though.” He looks over to you, making eye contact as he sees tears form in the corners of your eyes. He doesn’t actually think you’re disgusting, quite the opposite in fact. But he’s so upset that someone else got to be with you first, and Naoya of all people. As if that scum deserved to be with someone like you.

Naoya could instantly tell what was going on here. He can read Megumi like a book, and smirks as he grabs fistfuls of your hair and pulls you against his chest to taunt Megumi. “Looks like you lost. This is why I’ve always been superior to you. You wanted this little slut, huh? Mad that I broke her in first, aren’t you?” His voice is laced with amusement as he provokes Megumi. He pulls your head to be almost level with his as he spits onto your face. “Your little friend is quite the slut, I had a lot of fun using her like the whore she is. She probably wouldn’t even mind if you joined in, isn’t that right bitch?”

Despite the predicament you were in, you couldn’t help but feel aroused at Naoya’s manhandling and suggestion of Megumi joining in. It had never crossed your mind, although Megumi is quite attractive, you didn’t think he was interested. You were only able to mutter out a small “yes” as you look over to Megumi, noticing the flush in his cheeks reaching all the way to the ends of his ears, and the straining bulge in his pants.

“I’m sorry, ___... Be good for me, please?” He was almost pleading as he was walking over to the bed, already starting to strip.

“You can hurt her and call her names, that dumb whore likes it.” Naoya says, moving aside to let Megumi have easier access to you. You���re still lying on your back, barely recovered from getting your guts rearranged only minutes before. Megumi stands in front of you before kneeling down to get at eye level with your cunt. Naoya hadn’t been able to get up since Megumi stumbled into the room; because of this, your womb was filled to the brim with Naoya’s hot cum leaking out of your small hole. Megumi’s eyes were immediately locked on at the lewd sight before him when he used both hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart.

He moved a slender finger past your leaking hole, scooping a bit of cum up with his fingers as he dragged his finger across your clit. The sharp inhale and moan you made sounded absolutely divine to Megumi, urging him to keep going. “Good girl…” he purrs, as he moves his long fingers down to your hole again, once again scooping another glob of cum. “Sit up, slut,” He commands as he stands up. You comply, not willing to play any games in a situation like this. He shoves his cum covered fingers into your mouth; you lap it up and suck his fingers without having to be told anything. Megumi grins. “Good girl, ____. Such a good girl.”

“I bet you like that, don’t you slut?” You hear Naoya’s remark from aside you, he’s watching all of this unfold right before him. Megumi takes his fingers out of your mouth, Naoya grips you with fistfuls of hair and forces you to look at him. “Answer me, bitch.” He glares at you intensely.

“Yes… yes sir… I do.” You try to look anywhere except him but Naoya isn’t having it.

“When men are speaking, you show them the respect they deserve. That means you answer clearly and fucking pay attention. Got it?” He tugs your head to face him, leaning in closer until he’s only a few inches from your face. “Open your mouth, bitch. And don’t swallow until I tell you to.” You comply and he spits into your mouth, before closing the gap and letting his lips crash into yours. He bites your lip, drawing blood. The metallic essence mixes with his spit before Naoya leans back and instructs you to swallow. It feels perverse and humiliating to admit that it turned you on.

Megumi dropped onto his knees again, this time pushing his slender fingers into your cunt. It feels different this time for you; he’s gentler as he stretches you open. He takes his time adding more fingers, taking in every moment and feeling.

“Let’s change the position, yeah Megumi?” Naoya says it more as a statement and less of a question as he’s already moving to rest on the bed against the wall, pillows propping him up. He pulls you away from Megumi while simultaneously flipping you onto your tummy. He pulls you into his lap, supporting your arms until you’re able to prop yourself up above his cock. One hand grips the back of your head and pulls you closer to his thick cock. He pulls you by your hair, aligning your mouth with the tip of his cock as he forcefully shoves your head down. You nearly gag, pushing against him as he tries to use your mouth. Despite your resistance, Naoya doesn’t seem to care and is chasing his own high using you to get him off. You take him into your mouth, inexperienced but trying to adjust quickly. Naoya gives you barely any time to try and settle within the rhythm he’s created. You basically gag on his cock every time he plunges it slightly deeper than the last, but this only enhances Naoya’s pleasure.

While Naoya’s aggressive use of your mouth is going on, Megumi is taking his time to explore you from behind. His fingers are touching every part of your body he can get to, settling on your ass that he starts to spread apart. He’s entranced by the glistening of your cunt in the light, lost in thought about how lewd you look taking Naoya’s cock while bent over for him like a full course meal. He’s done with his “inspection” and moves one of his slender fingers to your entrance. He slips it in easily, listening to you moan with a cock stuffed in your mouth. Naoya pushes your head down farther along his length, trying to hit the back of your throat. You try to control your breathing in time with his rhythm.

Megumi slips another finger inside, stretching your cunt. “Fuck, ____, I didn’t think you were this tight.” He groans as he starts fucking you with his fingers. The lewd sounds he forces out you vibrate around Naoya’s cock. His other hand is grabbing fistfuls of your hair, face fucking you harder as your dripping cunt takes another of Megumi’s fingers. Megumi picks up pace, bringing another hand to your clit to add extra stimulation, but mostly so he can see you writhe and squirm under him while trying to hold yourself up.

“Will you be a good girl for me and cum, ___?” Megumi coos, stringing you along with his praises. “You look like such a dirty girl right now, already about to cum with just my fingers. So cute.” He finger fucks you harder now, making lewd wet noises as his fingers slam back into your pussy. His other hand is toying with your clit, drawing circles and rubbing the little button to bring you closer to your ecstasy. You can feel the knot tightening in your stomach, feeling yourself be pushed over the edge with his fingers alone.

Naoya thrusts into your throat, choking you and momentarily leaving you without air as Megumi pushes you over the edge. You feel your cunt tighten around his fingers as the waves of pleasure wash over you, the lack of air adding to your heightened senses. You moan as you’re cumming, giving just enough sensation to Naoya for him to creampie your throat. His cum is being forced down your throat, yet there’s still so much that some leaks from the corners of your mouth as his cock is pushed against the back of your throat. He finally shows mercy and pulls out as you’re coming down from your high. You force yourself to as much as you can before gasping for air, panting as you trying to calm down again.

“You did a good job taking all of me, slut.” Naoya grins as he lifts your chin with one of his fingers, leaning down to give you a kiss as you share his cum in your mouth. You didn’t think he’d be into some perverted shit like that, yet he’s basically tongue fucking your mouth still full of his cum. He pulls away, a long string of saliva and cum still connecting you two.

Megumi watches you two, his cock throbbing so intensely it almost hurts. He wastes no time in pulling his pants and boxers down before spitting in his hand and lubing his cock up. He’s shuffling behind you, lining himself up with your cunt before he pushes in at full force, giving you no time to adjust to his monstrous cock. You let out a yelp, air evacuating your lungs at the surprise intrusion. He’s balls deep near instantly in your tight hole, stretching you open with a cock that is even girthier than Naoya’s.

Naoya is watching you, grinning, and lazily stroking his cock. You have no idea how he’s able to keep going for multiple rounds, only a little bit of time in between. But you don’t care. The man in front of you is irresistibly hot even though his attitude is garbage. You would do anything he asked no matter how degrading it is in hopes that he would manhandle you again. As these thoughts cross your mind, Megumi reels you back into reality as he pushes so deep into your womb you’re sure he probably bruised your cervix.

“Your pussy is amazing, sweetheart. You have no idea… hah.. how long I’ve been wanting this.” Megumi praises you, unable to control his breathy moans as he continues fucking you with full force. One of your arms is pulled to your side, Megumi interlocking fingers and holding your hand as he drills into you. Even in a situation like this, he can’t help but do some cute shit.

His other hand lightly smacks your ass as you whimper in pleasure, unable to hide the fact that you like it a little rough. Megumi lets go of your hand as you feel both his arms snake around your waist, pulling you up and against his chest as he fucks you. Your back is to his chest, on full display for Naoya in front of you. His shiteating grin is plastered on his face as he has a front row view of Megumi’s cock sliding in and out of you. He gets up from his seated position to face you. Megumi’s arms are still wrapped around your body, supporting you as he drills into your cunt. You can feel his breath against your neck and hear his soft whimpers in your ear. “You’re doing so well, slut. Such a good girl for me huh?” He whispers into your ear. His words send chills down your spine as he keeps ramming his cock into you, abusing your poor hole.

Naoya moves closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. He kisses you slowly, before aggressively trying to fill your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away, spits on your face, and lightly slaps your face. “You love taking your friend’s cock, huh? Didn’t think it would be that good, did you? Who knew you’d be the family’s fuckdoll.” He chuckles at his degrading joke, but you couldn’t help but internalize his words. You have no idea how you got to be in this situation, but you were definitely not complaining. Something about multiple men of the same family using you how they liked made your cunt drip at the mere thought of it.

Naoya moves his mouth to your neck, leaving little marks on your skin to prove he was there. Little bruises of his lust for you, marking your skin like you’re property. Megumi start pulling out with only the tip left inside, before bottoming out into your cunt. He groans beside you, lost in the addictive pleasure that is you. Megumi was no virgin, but he believed you were the best person he’s ever fucked, your body insanely attractive and your personality catching and reeling him, unable to resist you.

Naoya moves back before bringing a hand to your neck, gripping your throat and momentarily cutting off your oxygen. “Megumi… fuck this bitch harder when I choke her, okay? She fucking loves it.” And he wasn’t wrong, you did love it. He gripped your throat, a smirk planted on his features as he watched you helpless and at his mercy. Some drool started dripping out of your mouth and you could feel your vision starting to haze around the edges. Megumi fucked into you harder, pulling you closer to his body. Naoya let his grip loosen a bit around your throat, enough to allow some air to fill your lungs again.

“I’m close, baby. I’m gonna fill you up okay? Be a good girl and take all of it for me.” Megumi purrs beside you. Naoya takes this moment to strengthen the grip around your throat, cutting off your air. You feel Megumi’s speed pick up, him desperately chasing his orgasm. You can hear his staggered whimpers as he empties his load into your cunt, filling your already full womb even more. Naoya releases his hand from your throat, making you choke and gasp for air. He’s looking down at you with sadistic satisfaction as you struggle to catch your breath.

Megumi pulls out and lets go of your waist, and you plop down onto the bed absolutely fucked out. Naoya is quick to get off the bed and start dressing. He finishes so quickly it’s as if he was speedrunning it (he has done this many, many, MANY times before). He gives you a quick peck on the lips and gently rubs your cheek before starting to walk towards the door. “See you soon, slut,” he says as he walks out, closing the door behind him this time. Megumi returns with a clean towel, gently cleaning you up as you just lay their like a limp fish.

“You did so well for me. Thank you,” he says as he kisses your cheeks and then your lips before pulling away and picking up some clothes for you. He tosses you a simple outfit to wear and begins dressing himself as well. “Ready for dinner? You’re gonna meet the rest of my family now.” You nod your head yes, anticipating who else you’re going to meet.

--

‹𝟹 notes: this was originally suppsed to be a oneshot, but i felt like it was getting too long. i have plans for all of them and wasn't going to be able to execute it in just a oneshot. let me know what y'all think!

feedback is always appreciated!! thank you all!!!

ch 2 (soon)

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

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(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE STRATEGY CALL

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. in which the stark racing f1 team talks about the 2025 strategy and beyond

content warnings. written in 3rd person

word count. 1.4k words

notes. with this chapter i wanted to involve a bit of politics and 'realistically' explain why stark racing won't immediately win a wdc (because with the whole set up, it would be possible). f1 are politics and no matter how many drivers say cash is king, connections have sometimes more worth

"welcome, everyone. thank you for tuning in", greets tony with a big smile on his face, spreading his arms as if going in for a hug.

"as you can see, i'm not currently with any departement, i'm doing the finishing touches in my own lab back in new york... since i don't want to drag anyone here to the US for meetings, we will proceed like this until january next year."

"now, i know it will be annoying with dragging your equipement with you and it's also unsafe, since you know... data secrets bla bla- so, in the next few days, each stark racing employee will receive the so called 'tactical intelligence glasses', which you can see me wearing. it's voice activated and can only be used by the one who sets it up, which will be you!" while speaking, tony fiddles with a pencil in his hand and starts walking around in his lab, showcasting it to every viewer.

"to cut things short, you'll receive a tutorial on how to use these glasses and set them up once you receive them. if you ever lose them, don't worry, we can track them. destroying them is pretty hard, but please don't try to make it a challange... our plan is to use them not only during meetings but also during the race, to keep our data from the cameras. with netflix, paparazzi and other cameras from the news, it's easy to steal data that shouldn't be accessible."

"alright then", he ends his ramblings with a clap, "we're going over the interesting part now. let's talk strategy..."

y/n let's her father's voice wash over her, her own glasses perched on her nose and feeding her constant information. in front of her are two holograms, projected by the hologram table in the meeting room she's currently in. the standing figure of her father and the presentation he's currently rattling off, all of it in a glowing blue.

next to her sits kevin, her future teammate, exhausted from the long 24 season but still paying attention. the rest of the room is filled with their team, the race engineers and trainers- each of them having their own glasses on.

to outsiders it looks like they're clowns, but it's a common sight in stark industries. decades ahead of the general public, stark stands for the future. of course they're trying to push it to the outer world, selling hologrammic equipement to both the industry but also private customers, but it's a slow progress.

the marketing team of SI hopes with their public use of the glasses and other devices they'll attract more customers, leaving the age of apple and samsung behind and instead welcoming the age of holograms. powered by starkanium, the production of phones, tablets, computers- anything really, is much cheaper and enviroment friendly than what's currently dominating the market.

shaking her head, y/n focuses on the presentation again. of course she knows it by heart already, she helped writing it, brooding over the strategy with the team ever since the team got announced.

"... the plan is to finish between 5th-3rd on the construction championship. not higher, not lower. we don't want to place higher, because this is our testing season. we will be practically sandbagging from the beginning, not revealing our true power for 2026."

yes... the construction championship. it will bring in money, not that they would need it, but it will justify the expenses they're going to make during the season to prepare for their second one. y/n is under no illusion, if they want, they could go all out and snag at least p2, if not p1. maybe she would even get her world championship- only then for everyone to say she won because she's driving a stark machine and not because of her own skill.

it sounds arrogant, she knows. but y/n believes, no, she doesn't only believe, she knows, she is one of the best in the whole world. if she can go against her father in an iron man suit, who can be only piloted by less than ten people in the world... winning in an f1 car is nothing.

but they've already made enemies for not waiting until 2026 like audi, 'enemies', who have much more pull within the motorsport world than them, simply because they're already established. christian horner is one, followed by toto wolff, the iconic red racing team not far behind.

with they're entry, they didn't make friends on the paddock, so for their first season... they can't be too good. or else their future seasons will be ruined.

it's stupid, to think like this, to think so far ahead, to think of others, in a sport where winning is everything. but it's not. cash and connections influence everything you do, how far you succeed. they have plenty of money, but are practically poor in connections. heck, even haas is better established than them.

they won't be, not after they're done after their first season. they will show the world, what stark racing is truly made of. and y/n will prove, that a woman can win.

"-bought data packs from previous seasons, dating back a whole decade, from mercedes and aston martin. cost a pretty penny, but data is everything. not to mention, after the big leak that happend in the middle of the season, we managed to grab enough data on all teams to calculate 3523 outcomes to this season. points, standings, anything." kevin wheezes at the number, which is followed by several data sheets. he gapes at the calculations, which predict another world championship for max 2064 times. all from the data they managed to collect.

"insane, right?", y/n whispers to kevin, who turns his head to her. his wide eyes make her snicker.

"welcome to stark racing, mate. just you wait until JARVIS and FRIDAY start feeding in new numbers and information." a muttered 'holy shit' is the only answer she gets and y/n has to snicker again. toto wolff once said something about formula one being war planning... well, he should know that stark industries and it's most brilliant minds know everything about war. be it on the market, by income or an actual alien invasion.

"we want to achieve at least one win, be it in a proper race or sprint, three podiums per driver and at least two fastest laps. and it will be possible", her father continues, pointing at a hologram of their car. it spins lazily in a circle, showing off it's aeorodynamic curves.

"this car is faster than the rb19, goes on par with the rb20. we don't know the upgrades from red bull, but another year and we can pretty much predict their stats for 2026. newey is predictable, all his upgrades point towards the perfection of the car, he focuses on what to make better and not invent something completely new. and if he does, he takes ages to prove it's better than what they had before. newey is brilliant, but he's no stark." there it is again, the facts of their rivals, taken apart and put back together to summerize their data in a few simple words.

"so, our motto for this season is testing, collecting data and improving for the next season. we're sandbagging, we're restricting ourselves. so if we ever do bad... we all know we could do much better. the engineering team will send first comparisons between the SR-1 and SR-2 out next week, y/n has already tested both cars in the sim, so we will have some data to read off."

"so, with that, we're pretty much done. thank you everyone for listening, i know for some it's very early right now, so if you have to read over the spark notes- JARVIS has put a summary of the most important information together, you'll receive the mail right after this converence. thank you again and welcome to stark racing, everyone!" claps fill the room and y/n takes off her glasses. it's exhausting to play mindgames like this, to calculate the desired outcome, but it will all come together.

hopefully, with her as a world champion, with the bold stark name on her back.

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ARKHAM MAID 2024

[vagabond-umlaut]

gojo satoru x reader fic recs (I)

‣ now that i've got loads of free time, thought why shouldn't i use it well by showing (few of) my fave authors their much well-deserved love, respect and attention? ^_^

‣ this is merely a list of works i've enjoyed reading. kindly heed the tags and warnings in each of them and consume content responsibly, at your own discretion. that being said, i own neither these fics nor the characters nor the above gif. enjoy reading! 🥰

⌀ all that is solid [series] by GrilledTandooriSmoke on ao3

one of the best series there is. period. the fluff, the angst, the drama, the humor, the romance, the friendship, the plot, the dialogues - everything is top-notch in this series, i'm telling you. bonus points for being narrated in both reader's and gojo's pov.

⌀ The King is But a Man [series] by Petrichorium on ao3 (@petrichorium on tumblr)

royal!gojo who's terribly in love with the reader x reader who's equally (but way more discreetly) in love with gojo. add to that, the trope of childhood sweethearts reunited as adults, excellent communication between the couple and a wonderfully-crafted world and dialogues - what more could you ask from a series?

⌀ Ten to None (Soulmate AU) (oneshot) by Oreosmama on ao3

a fic which i adore with every fibre of my being. i will not say anything more about this, except to request you to go read this. you'll love it. (especially the fantabulous ending. btw, did i already say how much i'm in love with how well-written this fic is?)

⌀ Scarred [oneshot] by cainis on ao3

one of the best angst-with-a-happy-ending fic there is. i wish i could give thousands of kudos for the heart-wrenchingly amazing way the author has portrayed gojo's character here.

⌀ Mother of otherness, Eat me [oneshot] by itsbaby on ao3

one of the most beautiful works i've read so far. told from yuuji's pov, it explores gojo and reader's relationship and its nuances in a way seldom done before. however, what stole the show for me, was the soft and sweet mother-son duo the reader and yuuji grow to be in this fic. i really love this one-of-a-kind masterpiece.

⌀ something sweet [oneshot] by heresan on ao3 (@pretty-toru on tumblr)

i love love love this fic. it's so fluffy, so funny, so cute, so heart-warming... just read this fic, people. you won't ever be disappointed by the dynamics reader and gojo have in this one. one of my all-time faves, tbh.

⌀ teen dad Gojo [series] by pantao on ao3 (@seravphs on tumblr)

a sweet and realistic depiction of reader and gojo being teenaged parents to young megumi, all the while they try to figure out their feelings for each other. a perfect mixture of fluff, angst, drama, slice-of-life and romance, imo. (also, the author's notes are pure gold. whatever you do, please don't miss reading them! :D)

⌀ To see those eyes I prize above mine own (twoshot) by koyama on ao3

if you wish to watch godlike!gojo willing to let go of his powers, out of guilt and immense, immense, protective love for the reader, this is the ideal fic for you. i'm in awe of the way the writer wrote gojo's complex persona and the way the sorcerer realized his feelings for the reader. (the second chapter's the cherry on the cake. it's so good!!!!)

⌀ keeping up with the fushigojos (series) by @augustinewrites on tumblr

fluff? A+; angst? A+; drama? A+; characterization & dialogues? A+; humour? A+++++. a sureshot way to end a long hectic tiring day on a happy note is to read this series. (my go-to comfort series, ngl. :])

⌀ CAT & DOG (oneshot) by @mimiriko on tumblr

an adorable fic of gojo being in love with the reader, who knows, yet doesn't really know, much about it. plus, the feline-like features of gojo are sooo cute... and this fic is sooo sweet... the story left me smiling when i finished reading it.

⌀ surely summer wasn't over yet [3 chapters] by 3rdgymbros on ao3

an amazing fic set against the backdrop of the hidden inventory arc. the portrayal of the characters and their dynamics is simply impeccable. despite my kind-of-dislike towards this particular arc of the manga, i really enjoyed reading this one.

[meldy-writes]

Stupid Games

Summary: Takes place during S2 You’re the eldest of the Greene sisters (about 10 years older than Maggie). You’re mean, overprotective of your family, and overall just kind of a mythic bitch. Daryl can’t seem to keep his eyes from wandering over you whenever you’re around. One day you run into each other in the woods while hunting down the same deer and Daryl finds himself being toyed with. Maybe you’re not as cold and forbidding as you let on, but then again, maybe you’re just luring him into playing a stupid little game with you.

A/N: This is an excerpt from a fic I want to post to AO3 but don’t have anything substantial enough to post a full chapter yet so I wanted to post this here and see if it was good enough to keep working on. Might post another part I have written as a companion piece if people like this enough.

The first time Daryl laid eyes on you, you were just a distant figure on the roof of the Greene family farmhouse as he rode in at the head of the convoy on his bike. You were sitting on the porch overhang, looking out over your father's land with the vigilance of a grizzled soldier on the front lines. He watched you stand up as they drove up your gravel path. You put out a cigarette you'd been smoking in an ashtray resting on an open window ledge before climbing into the house. He and the rest of the members of his group that had stayed behind at the highway the night previous had made it up to the path and met up with the people who were already working on something judging by the pile of rocks they were collecting in a wheelbarrow by the time you reemerged on the porch. You surveyed him and the others with a set and piercing stare, arms crossed defensively over your chest as if daring one of them to cause trouble and give you a reason to beat their ass. You were followed out of the house by an older man in his seventies and the rest of Daryl’s group. You took stock of the new arrivals, starting with him and working your way over everyone, scanning them like you could see everything there was to know about them on their skin and didn't like it. When you were done you fixed your gaze back onto Daryl as if you'd identified him as the biggest threat. He hated the feel of your suspicious stare, though he told himself it was typical of people to see him as nothing but trouble and to treat him like dirt so he should be used to it. The way you tilted your head from your elevated position on the raised porch—like you were looking down at an ant and trying to decide whether it was worth the energy to squash it—made him fidget.

“How is he?” Dale asked after Carl when Rick and Lori came out of the house looking like they’d just been through hell and hadn't slept a wink.

“He'll pull through,” Lori responded, relief clear in her voice, “Thanks to Hershel and his daughter, (y/n),” She said motioning towards you, “and their people, and–”

“and Shane,” Rick added, “We'd have lost Carl if not for him.”

Daryl watched your already cold eyes darken and a snarl twist across your face at the statement, failing to suppress an eye roll before you yanked your head away from the group and the conversation like it disgusted you, choosing instead to stare off towards a barn at a distant end of the property. He wondered what your problem was, but he wasn't wondering long. It was revealed soon after the group arrived that someone had gone with Shane when he went to retrieve medical supplies for Carl and that that person did not return with him. Someone you and your family cared for.

If it wasn't made clear by the way Lori recognized those living at the farm house as not just your father's people but yours as well that you were the oldest child, it would have become obvious by the way your sisters looked to you for comfort at Otis's funeral. The little blonde one bawled her eyes out and clung to you like a child clings to their mother while Maggie, the woman who'd rode up to them on a horse the other day, leaned down to your height to rest her head on your shoulder. You tucked the sniffling teenager under your arm protectively, rubbing at her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her forehead and then turned to bump your head softly against Maggie’s in a comforting way. Your lips pursed like you were sucking on a lemon as you tried your best to stay strong and not start crying like your sisters, pinning Shane with a frigid and accusatory glare that he expertly ignored as he told the story of how he and Otis were ambushed by a group of walkers while retrieving the medical supplies for Carl and that Otis had valiantly stayed behind to cover his retreat, shooting into the herd with a pistol before ultimately being swallowed up by the swarm and getting torn to shreds. Daryl found it miraculous that Shane managed to recover the gun but not the man that had supposedly been firing it in his daring escape—and by miraculous he meant shady. You didn't seem to be buying Shane’s story, either.

After the service your father motioned toward you and told you to show the guests where to set up their camp, as he graciously agreed to let them stay until Carl recovered and they had located Sophia. You nodded dutifly with a muttered “Yessir,” motioning to Rick with your head, beckoning him to follow as you untangled yourself from your siblings and began marching off in a direction with purpose, not looking back to check if anyone was following you. If the group couldn't keep up with your quick gait that was just too damn bad. They did their best to match your pace, some, like Daryl, breaking off to fetch the vehicles and bring them over to where they were meant to stay. When you got to a spot under some particularly shady trees a good distance from your house you stopped, looking around as you waited for the group to congregate. When everyone was grouped up again you addressed them directly for the first time that morning. Your voice was down to business and detached as you pointed out where the boundaries of the camp would be and where the well they could use for water was. “One more thing,” You said with the same rural twang as your sisters, your tone changing to one of warning as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, jutting out your hip and resting your hand against it. Daryl followed the movement, your curves drawing his eyes in a way that made him itch and blush. “My daddy believes we should be good christians—help our fellow men and give ‘em the benefit of the doubt, but I don't share his blind faith. I don't know you people and I don't trust you. I can’t afford to, I have a baby sister to protect. Beth is sixteen, you understand? She's a child. If I catch any of your men lookin’ at her, talkin’ to her—sniffin’ around her in any way, I will rip their balls off like I'm takin’ a part off a Mr. Potato Head.” You made a popping sound with your lips that had Daryl's stare fixing on them instead of your hips, and gave a motion with your hand as if grabbing at something and yanking it down. “Clean off,” you reiterated, staring Glen down who swallowed thickly and tried to give you a friendly and disarming smile that did not change your attitude in the slightest. “Maggie can take care of herself but still, if someone upsets her, with God as my witness there will be hell to pay.”

There was a loud silence from the group after your blatant threats of bodily harm that was broken by Dale, ever the peacekeeper. “We understand where you're coming from, you have nothing to worry from us. We're good people, you'll see. Thank you for letting us stay on your beautiful property while Carl recovers and we look for Sophia.”

You scoffed, “You're only here because we shot your boy,” you reminded bluntly as you turned to leave for your house, “don't thank us.”

Daryl’s first impression of you: You were a bitch, but a bitch who loved her family. The only times he ever caught you cracking a smile or being anywhere close to kind during those first few days was when you were with them. You seemed to disagree with your dad on a lot of things, but it was clear you both respected and loved each other and that you had a bond that had been worked on and cultivated to be strong enough for you to argue and debate and still look at each other with love. After every tiff he’d catch you having in the windows of the front room, spitting and pinching the bridge of your nose and tossing your hands up while your dad calmly spoke back you would sigh, relax your gaze, and kiss his cheek or his forehead before stomping off with a storm cloud over your head. You’d grin wolfishly as you and Maggie laughed conspiratorially on the porch in the afternoon, teasing each other as you ate cherries together, trying to hit each other with the pits you spat out. Your whole face would soften when you looked at Beth, practically glowing with unconditional adoration as you played on the guitar Dale had originally found for Glen and accompanied the little blonde girl as she sang her heart out. Your voice was low, bluesy, raw, and filled with vibrato. There was an untrained authenticity to it that was almost hypnotic. It paired well with your sister who sang like a songbird, pretty and light as if she’d been taught by actual birds. You were happy to let her take the center stage, supporting her through harmony while your fingers strummed frets with a clumsy sort of charm, like you were taught to play at one point but never practiced, and were now making all sorts of mistakes that were going to become bad habits without a proper teacher. It was later revealed that Otis had taught you the basics a few years back and you’d only bothered to pick it back up now that he was gone and Beth needed someone new to perform with. You softened for Patricia, as well, helping her in the kitchen and going out of your way to assist her with her chores on the farm despite having plenty of your own responsibilities to fulfill.

Daryl’s group, however, you continued to treat like shit on your shoe. You made no effort to hide that you wanted them off your property as soon as possible, only showing a hint of compassion when it came to Lori and Carol, the mothers of the group who were distraught over the perils of their children. They were the ones you supplied the group’s meals to, giving them bushels of produce and bottles of milk and sending your sisters over to hand them baskets of eggs, even going so far as to offer Carl some of your late step-brother’s hand-me-downs to wear, but you still had a cold sneer on your face when you handed things over and you didn’t speak to them unless it was to ask how Carl was recovering or if they were making any progress finding Sophia. You were only asking to try and gauge how much longer you’d have to wait before kicking them out, and you grew more and more agitated the more the group settled in. Every time Rick or Dale or anyone tried to appeal to you or your dad about staying longer or staying permanently you’d bristle like a cat being pet the wrong way. You made a point to avoid them most of the time, which was just fine with Daryl because every interaction he did have with you pissed him off, and only fueled his own frustration when it became harder and harder to ignore you or look away.

For instance, the first one on one conversation he ever had with you was out in the woods while he was looking for Sophia. He was about to give up the search for the day and head back when he picked up the trail of a deer. He stalked it through the woods, thinking it’d be better to provide the farm with some venison than to return empty handed again. When he finally found it, he took aim and shot it at an angle that had it sprinting off with a limp in the direction of the farm. That’s when he heard a startled gasp and watched as you rushed out of the nearby foliage with a rifle, taking aim at the retreating deer before realizing you couldn’t get a clear shot on it. You then turned to where he was, gun dropping in your arms as you pinned him with a furious look. “Congratulations, Numb-Nuts, it got away.”

“The hell are you doing out here?” Daryl snapped, face red at the way you were treating him like a dullard with no idea what he was doing.

You seemed flustered by the question, looking down and kicking at the dirt with your horse-riding boot. “Came out to hunt and figured I’d look around for the missing little girl while I was at it,” you said with a casual shrug, avoiding his eyes until you seemed to remember you were pissed at him at which point your head snapped up and that signature sneer of yours was back. “Saw the deer and was gonna take it out but somebody went and scared it off.”

“I shot it in the leg on purpose,” Daryl explained defensively, getting angry and up in your face, “see that trail it left? It’s carryin’ itself back to the farm, less effort this way.” He looked you up and down and scoffed, nodding towards your gun. “What's with the rifle, Annie Oakley? You shoot that thing, every walker in a five mile radius is gonna come here to tear you and that deer apart.”

You slung your weapon over your shoulder and crossed your arms defiantly, “It takes a buck down in one clean, quick shot. The animal feels little to no pain if you know what you’re doin’ so it’s not suffering with an arrow in its ass for half a mile. Plus, I woulda been outta here with the buck slung over my shoulder long before anything came over to check out the noise.” You were confident, clearly convinced you knew better and that your methods were best. Daryl couldn’t have that. He had a good decade’s worth of experience on you and he hadn't had his hand held the whole time he was taught to track the way you probably had. He licked his lips ready to knock you down a peg.

“Yeah, but you’d be so exhausted from caryin’ it the whole way that if a walker came up on you, you’d be too tired to fight it off. Maybe you’d be able to drop the deer and fumble for your rifle, but that’s as far as you’d get. It’d be on you in a second. Would a little thing like you be able to fight it off? You even got a weapon other than that big ol’ Elmer Fudd gun?” As he was talking he saw your expression shift. You tilted your head like something had just occurred to you and you were sizing him up.

Suddenly, you brought your right leg up, bent at the knee so you could lift a jack knife from your boot, and flicked the blade out so it pointed at his chest. That shut him up for a second. He really hadn’t expected the quickness with which you had it drawn on him. “Believe me,” you let out a bored, breathy sigh, a smirk on your face like you knew you had the upper hand, “I’ve got some experience dealing with ravenous things that want to pin me down and devour me, I can handle myself just fine.” …were you still talking about walkers? You were, right? The way you poked the tip of your knife against the skin of his chest peeking out from under his open collar and gently dragged it down until it caught on the button of his shirt had him feeling goosebumps on his flesh and hearing innuendo in your words. You took a step towards him, looking up at him through long lashes with your chest puffed—either in pride or in an attempt to get him to look at your breasts. Regardless of the reason, It was working. “What about you? You sure you can catch up to that deer before somethin’ else does? You said it yourself, it’s hurt and slowing down—a biter could take it down in a matter of moments. Then what, tough guy?” Daryl had nothing to say in defense of that. Partly because your slightly seductive shift in demeanor had his mouth going dry and partly because you had a point and he knew it. He remembered the last time he’d hunted a deer like this, it’d carried itself all the way back to the quarry camp before getting caught on the fishing line of the perimeter alarms they put up and then it’s stomach was ripped apart and it’s innards devoured by a walker that followed the sound of a wounded, frightened animal and jingling cans. You must have seen in his eyes that you’d caught him because your slight smile spread into a full-on Cheshire cat grin. You retracted your knife and returned it to your boot, turning and sauntering off in the direction the deer had run off in. “guess we’d better go find it, huh?”

Daryl stalled for a second, stunned by your behavior. One second you’re spitting venom at him and making him feel like he’s two feet tall, the next you’re purring like a kitten and being the biggest fucking tease he’d ever had to endure. He mentally smacked himself when he realized he’d been so focused on the sway of your hips as you walked away that he wasn’t following you like he should be. He began jogging to catch up with you, falling into step easily as you both picked up the deer’s trail again. “You even know how to track?” He couldn't help but keep trying to pick a fight with you—he didn’t even know why, but as much as bickering with you pissed him off, he also found it fun. You didn’t treat his meanness like something you had to quell or cry about like his group did, you stood your ground and tossed your own barbs right back at him. It was like a game. A game he seemed to be losing, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop playing.

You looked over to him, a brow raised as you scanned him up and down. “Yes, I do. Do you own a shirt you haven’t ripped the sleeves off of?” You nodded to the button down he was wearing. He’d torn the sleeves off a few days ago because it was too hot to wear them and he needed the fabric to tie markers off on trees to denote what parts of the woods he’d already searched through in case the others ever decided to get off their asses and help look for Sophia. He had a few other shirts that had sleeves at some point but no longer did that he wore in a common rotation. He must have had a sour look on his face at your retaliating comment because you shook your head and chuckled under your breath, “don’t play stupid games if you don’t wanna win stupid prizes.”

You walked through the woods mostly in silence after that, not wanting to make an abundance of noise and end up accidentally spooking the deer. That became a competition as well, with you both smirking in triumph every time the other stepped on a twig or kicked up a bit of dirt in your effort to leave as little evidence of a trail as possible. Eventually, as you were coming up on a clearing near the edge of your property where the tall grass almost completely covered the view of your home in the distance, Daryl stuck his hand out to stop you and put a finger to his lips, pointing towards the buck you’d both been after peeking out through the foliage, whining softly and doing its best to lick at the wound in its back leg. You took cover behind a honeysuckle bush and Daryl nodded at you and your gun, “I got the last shot, your turn.”

You hesitated a second, scanning the woods and warily looking towards your farm. “Too close to home to use the gun now, it’d attract the dead to our property. Lemme borrow that crossbow of yours.” You held your hand out for it and Daryl clutched it away from your grasp. You looked at him first confused by his reluctance then annoyed, “please?” you said petulantly. After a beat of studying your face he eventually relented, but only after you’d started pouting a little. The second it was in your grip you hefted it up, remarking that it was heavier than you expected.

Daryl watched you handle it a bit clumsily as you got used to holding it and his fingers itched to show you how to aim it right. In the end, he couldn’t help himself. He came up behind you and put his hands on your hips, angling them the right way so you had a solid stance. He felt you stiffen under his hands and could hear your breath catching in your throat. “You wanna stand like this,” he coached, his arms coming around you to adjust your elbows and help you aim the weapon straight. You leaned back against his chest a little, maybe unconsciously, maybe on purpose. “Then just use the arrow tip like a sight and pull the trigger.” He could feel you shift as his breath brushed against the skin of your neck. The way you acted made you so big and imposing, but actually having you in his arms made you feel so small and demure; like he could envelop you entirely and keep you all to himself if he wanted. The way you’d been acting the past half hour made him feel like you might want that, too. The idea sort of excited him a little—made his pants and his chest feel tight. There was a quiet moment where he expected you to aim and fire, but it passed and the arrow still hadn’t been shot. He turned to look at you and see what the hold up was. Surley, you weren’t that unsure of your aim. He flinched back a bit when he moved his head in your direction and almost brushed noses with you, as you were not looking at the deer and had instead shifted to look back at him, a look on your face reminiscent of a cat playing with a cornered mouse.

“You really are just like any other man, aren’t you?” you crooned out in a teasing tone.

“What?” his mind went blank in his dumbfoundedness and that was all he could manage to utter.

“In my experience, I’ve found that any man who’s attracted to a woman is always willing to believe two things about her: One, that she doesn’t know anything about anything and needs him to help her, and two, that she’s just as attracted to him as he is to her.” Daryl’s mouth opened and closed like a fish at that statement, unsure what you meant or how he was supposed to respond. In that time you yanked yourself out of his grip, redid your stance, took aim with perfect form, and let loose an arrow with absolutely no hesitation. The deer let out a sad bleat as it was shot in the eye and then it crumpled into the grass, dead as a doornail. You handed his crossbow back to him with a nasty, shit-eating grin. “Do I really strike you as the type of person who’d ask to borrow somethin’ I didn’t know how to use? Honestly now, all I had to do was bat my lashes and push up my tits and you were all ‘here, let me get up close behind you and show you how to hold this big heavy tool’.” You said those last three words in an erotic and over dramatic moan, getting close to press your breasts against him as you ran your hand up his chest.

He pushed you away, a heavy blush heating his face while you began to cackle maniacally at him. “How the hell was I supposed to know you knew how to use it when you were fumbling with it like a toddler?” he barked out angrily as you stepped out from behind the bush you’d both been hiding behind and began walking towards the farm, still laughing. “Hey! Ain’t you gonna take the deer? It’s your kill!”

You turned around with mirth dancing in your eyes and a wide happy grin on your face. The light of the setting sun bounced off your hair making it look so shiny as the light summer breeze ran through it, making it float and sway around you in such a pretty way. Daryl felt his heart pound hard in his chest as he glared over your retreating figure. You were walking backwards, tucking a few strands of hair that had flown into your face back behind your ear as you said, “Who, me? But I'm just a ‘little thing’ who’d get tired if I carried it all the way back. You’re the big strong man—use those big strong muscles to carry it back for me. Oh, and since you’re the big strong provider, you can go ahead and string it up, drain it, and skin it, too. Thanks for your help,” you sing-songed sarcastically, “I just don’t know how I ever woulda done it without you!” Daryl began to huff, storming towards you for a second, unsure of what he’d even do if he caught you, but he felt like you’d just tricked him and he didn’t like it. You held your hands up in your defense as you saw him coming. “Stupid games, stupid prizes,” you reiterated with a shrug as you giggled and turned, running back towards the farm and leaving him in the thicket with the dead buck.

Daryl got the sudden sense as he watched you slow your pace to a jog then a brisk walk once you’d gotten far enough away that this had all been a test of some kind. He couldn’t tell if he passed or failed, but you certainly seemed pleased about the results either way. He kicked at the ground, a clump of dirt launching into the air as he did so, and moved to heft the buck over his shoulder. He didn’t know if or when you’d ever come looking to play again, but if you did, he’d make sure he won.

As he strung up the deer in a tree a little ways away from the group’s makeshift camp later that afternoon, cutting at its arteries and letting the blood drain out of it, he imagined what you might look like when he got the upper hand on you. What would you look like when the sneers and the smirks were wiped away and you were pinned down, completely at his mercy—all flustered with your cheeks flushed, trying to squirm your way out from under him. He bet you’d still have bite. He bet you would still spit venom, but maybe he could get you to purr for him, too. Maybe he could get you to look at him the way you looked at your family, all sweet smiles and gentle touches. The thought made him eager to play another one of your stupid little games.

[justalittlerandomartist]

Daddy’s Little Monster (4)

•Alastor x teen! daughter! reader

•Platonic, ya sickos

• What if….Alastor had a daughter that wanted to be a serial killer

a/n: chill out guys please my notifications are blowing up I want to sleep I’ve written these four chapters in 2 hours.

You took a liking to Alastor. You would try to start up conversation with him, or just hang around him. At first he was a bit confused on why a teenager was following him around, but he soon grew to enjoy your company. You were also making great progress towards redemption. Some of the hotels residents thought that maybe you should know who Alastor is before you get involved with him, since you’re trying so hard for redemption. So one day, thanks to popular demand, Charlie decided to tell you about Alastor.

“Soo, y/n, I know you haven’t been in Hell long, and you don’t see Alastor as a threat, but there are something’s you should know.” You gave her a confused look. “Like what?” Charlie sighed. “Like the fact that Alastor is a serial killer. And a cannibal. And he’s kind of a sociopath.” Charlie noticed how your eyes lit up after she said that. You seemed so excited! “Really!? That’s so cool!” Charlie looked confused “Wait, what?” She tried to question you, but you were already running off to go meet Alastor.

You saw Alastor as a parental figure. When you were alive, your parents weren’t great. They were strictly religious, and very hateful. They were emotionally abusive, and you hated the way they tried to manipulate you. The truth is, you grew up to be a sweet, kind, (insert sexuality) girl. Alastor spoke to you like he cared about you, and treated you with respect. You saw him as more of a father than you did your actual father.

You finally got to Alastor, carrying exciting new news. “Alastor! Alastor!” Alastor turned his head towards you, his perpetual grin growing ever wider. “What is it now, dear y/n?” You beamed up at him and said, “Charlie told me that you’re a cannibalistic serial killer.” His smile dropped a bit. “Did she now?” You continued smiling, extremely excited about this. “Yeah, and I just wanted to let you know that, that makes you even cooler! Also, I kinda..sorta…wanted to know if you could teach me about that kinda stuff?” Alastors smile seemed genuine for the first time since they met. “Why, of course, my dear!” The excited look on your face showed it all. This one was going to be his little monster.

________________________________________ Can I sleep now? Also request fics u want. If I can’t sleep, expect part 5.

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part twenty-six] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, angst, smut (mdni)

word count: 5.1k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

additional smut warnings: oral (f receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms

The silence that followed your admission was excruciating. You wished you knew what Minho was thinking. He was impossible to read, aside from the evident anger written all over his face. His body language didn’t give much away either. He was closed off, arms folded across his chest, chin raised just slightly. 

“So who are you then?” he demanded, tone even despite being the exact opposite mere moments ago. 

“What?”

“Who are you? Are you just some girl that Jisung is using?”

“What the fuck, no!”

“Why are you acting like that’s some outrageous possibility? I just found out you’ve been lying to everyone all summer!”

“I’ve been Jisung’s best friend for like four years now, I’m all over his Instagram! Felix came to visit us and we all hung out, there are pictures of that too. I can’t believe you’d think I’m some random person!”

“You’ll have to forgive me for not thinking completely rationally right now!” he spat. “Why the hell would Jisung lie about- why would he say he had a girlfriend if he didn’t?”

“It’s a long story,” you mumbled with a sigh. “But we really don’t have time to get into that right now. I came up here because I was supposed to bring you back to the room.”

Minho made a face. “What, why?”

“Your cousins called.”

The shift in his demeanor was immediate. He visibly perked up, but only briefly, before seeming to remember the conversation he was having. “Jeongin and Yoon?”

“Yeah. Everyone else is on FaceTime with them right now. I told everyone I’d come to get you so that none of them would have to miss out on talking to him,” you explained. “So we should probably get going because I don’t know how long he has to chat.”

“Fine,” Minho surrendered easily, “but we’re not done talking about this.”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you sighed again, still feeling nauseous. With everything that had already happened, you knew there was no way that this could end well. But now, now that one person knew it was all a lie, you were fucked. “Just… don’t tell anyone, please?”

He pursed his lips but nodded. “You sure have a lot of secrets to keep track of, don’t you?”

It was meant to sting, and it did, but you didn’t let him see the crack in the glass. 

“I could say the same for you.”

-

You slipped into your room as soon as you got back to the penthouse, not wanting to face any of the other Hans, especially not your best friend. You collapsed onto the bed with a muffled scream into your pillow. 

You expected yourself to start crying, but the tears didn’t come. They wouldn’t come. The initial panic had been replaced with numbness. Apathy personified, you could feel it spreading from your heart out through your veins, creating a tingling sensation that reached the very tips of your fingers. 

You had to tell Jisung, right? He’d understand… probably. You hadn’t told Minho. He figured it out on his own. Yeah, you should tell Jisung and then you could also come clean about… everything else. Maybe. But maybe you could also take it to your grave since it seemed like any possibility of you and Minho becoming an item, whatever that implied, was out of the question now. You knew he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. Not after tonight. You couldn’t erase his look of betrayal from your mind no matter how hard you tried. 

Just how many people were you hurting by merely being on this trip? There was no way to know for sure, not that knowing would make you feel any less guilty. 

Maybe it was better not to tell Jisung. Maybe you could pretend like everything was fine, and then it would be. But that was what had gotten you in trouble in the first place. 

You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep until you woke up with a jolt some hours later. The room was dark. The lamp had been switched off and the blinds were shut. Jisung was snoring softly beside you. He was tucked under the covers while you were still laying on top of them. 

You rolled over and felt for your phone, finding it underneath your pillow. You were surprised to see that you had missed a text from Minho. It was from an hour and a half ago and just said can you meet me in room 422? 

You weren’t sure if he would still be waiting there since it had been so long since he sent the message, but you responded with a tentative sure and quietly snuck out of your bedroom. You hoped Jisung wouldn’t wake up before you returned. Having to explain where you were or why you were there would only complicate things. You still hadn’t decided whether or not to tell him… anything. You needed more time to think things through. At least, that’s the excuse you told yourself. 

The fourth floor was eerily quiet, reminding you of how late it was. Stepping off the elevator into the hallway felt like a mistake, like you were trespassing on private property. Minho hadn’t replied to your text so you didn’t know if he was still awake, but you knocked at the door anyway. He answered after the second knock. 

“There you are,” he said and stepped aside to let you in. He seemed to have cooled down, which was a good sign, but there was still tension lingering between you. 

You slid by him, stopping in the entryway just past the door. The room he had summoned you to was just a plain hotel room. There was a queen-size bed in the middle of the room and a desk in the corner, but not much else. 

“You can sit wherever.”

You nodded in acknowledgment and perched yourself on the edge of the bed. Minho followed you but refrained from sitting, choosing to lean back against the dresser so that he could face you. 

“Why’d you want to meet me here?” you asked.

“I, uh, thought that talking in my room back at the apartment would look kind of weird if anyone saw us,” he explained awkwardly, “and the walls are thin too.”

“Alright, you have a point,” you admitted with a shaky exhale. “Whose room is this?”

“It’s mine. I went down to the lobby and booked it for the night.”

Oh to have a K-pop-sized disposable income.

“Oh, right. Should have thought of that.” You swallowed thickly, trying still to appear calm, cool, and collected. “Well, what did you want to talk about?”

You realized that Minho hadn’t mentioned wanting to talk in his text. You were just assuming. But given the events of the night, you felt that it was a pretty safe assumption to make. 

“I wanted to know why you and Jisung lied to everyone,” he took a brief pause before continuing, “and why I now have to lie to everyone too.”

You bit your tongue, stopping yourself before you could point out that he was already lying to everyone, and just nodded. 

“So the thing is, when he told your parents he had a girlfriend, he did have a girlfriend. They broke up, like, less than a week after he told them that and I guess he was too embarrassed to break the news because they were so excited for him and had already invited her on the trip. Jisung figured that maybe he’d have another girlfriend by the time he actually had to go on the trip, but when the end of the semester rolled around and he didn’t, I kind of filled the vacancy because he asked me to.”

“But why?” Minho pressed. “Why was it so important for him to be dating someone?”

“I don’t know, actually. He told me that it was to make your parents happy because they were always bugging him about his dating life, but I thought there might have been another reason that he just wasn’t telling me.”

Minho hummed thoughtfully. “Mom and dad are pretty nosy about our lives, but I don’t know why he would feel pressured to be in a relationship.”

“I think he felt like he had something to prove,” you said, choosing your words carefully. You knew how rocky Jisung’s relationship with his older brother was, at least from what he told you. You didn’t want to give Minho anything he could hold against him. “You’re not going to say anything to your parents or Felix, are you?”

“No,” he answered immediately and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “That’s his prerogative, I suppose. I don’t want to start anything between us- it’s not my place to say anything, really.”

“Thank you.”

He let his arms drop to his sides but didn’t move from where he was standing. “So, there’s really nothing going on between you and Jisung?”

“No, I swear.”

“Even after spending all this time together on the trip?”

“Nope, we spend all of our time together anyway.”

“So are you… friends with benefits?” he asked. 

“No. We’ve made out a few times, but it really just happens when we’re drunk. We never slept together.”

“But what about…” he trailed off, but you understood what he was talking about instantly.

“Oh, no! That was all fake. We just did that to sell it more, and sometimes to mess with you guys.”

“I knew there was no way he could be that good,” Minho whispered.  

You chuckled but came to your friend’s defense. “He seems to do pretty well for himself. Girls usually call him back after staying over so he must be doing something right.”

“I can’t believe it was fake,” Minho mumbled, mostly to himself. “Sorry, I’m still processing this.”

“Take your time.”

You leaned back on the palms of your hands, feeling a little more relaxed now that you knew he didn’t hate you. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked finally, letting the mask fall the tiniest bit. “After I kissed you the first time? Or when you kissed me back? This whole time I’ve felt like such an asshole for- for everything that happened.”

“I thought about it,” you admitted, “but Jisung and I agreed that it would stay between us. I’m sorry.”

“I get why you didn’t. I just wish it could have been different.” 

“Me too,” you agreed.

Minho crossed over to the bed and sat down next to you. 

“I’m sorry I went through your stuff.”

You threw your head back laughing. You hadn’t expected him to say that. “It’s fine. Honestly, it’s a relief not to have to keep up the act around you anymore.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Minho raised an eyebrow and grinned, making you shy away from his gaze. 

You looked down at your lap. 

“Because it was exhausting! I don’t know how to act.” It was a half-truth, and you suspected that he knew it. 

“You had me fooled.”

You managed to look back up at him only to find him staring at your lips. This was not how you imagined this conversation going at all. 

“Maybe I should change career paths then,” you choked out. 

“Yeah, maybe.”

A few more beats of silence lapsed between you before Minho spoke again. 

“All of this time we could have been doing this,” he murmured gently. 

You scrunched your face up in confusion. “What’s ‘doing this’?”

 He leaned forward and bridged the gap between you by pressing his lips to yours to answer your question. His hand came up to your hair instinctively, muscle memory, and brushed it out of your face before cupping your jaw. You melted into him like you had done too many times before, letting him trace the curves of your face with his thumb like he was trying to memorize it. 

His palm was warm and you could feel the calluses on his hand against your cheek. You were the first to moan, any embarrassment long forgotten as you climbed onto his lap. 

Minho accommodated your weight easily, hands immediately coming down to grab your ass. He allowed you to push him down so that he was lying flat on the bed with you straddling his waist. 

Minho slipped his tongue into your mouth as the kiss intensified, teasing you with it. You whimpered when he pulled away, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. Minho just smirked and used the opportunity to flip you over so that he was on top. 

Then his lips were back on you, brushing against your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. As soon as you felt his teeth graze your skin you pushed his head back and gave him a look. It was his turn to pout. 

“You can’t leave marks, idiot.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he said apologetically, though the shit-eating grin on his face let you know that he didn’t mean it whatsoever. “Well, you can mark me up as much as you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “Lucky me.”

Minho ignored your comment and raised himself onto his hands, still hovering over you. He looked pretty, even in the dim, yellowy hotel room light. His lips were already a bit puffy, but he hadn’t even been kissing you for that long. You briefly wondered how they’d look after making out with your cunt, all swollen and glossy. You tried to squeeze your thighs together at the thought, legs closing around Minho’s hips instead. He seemed pleased at your eagerness and rewarded you with another kiss. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked when he came up for air. You nodded. “Here, lift up a little.”

You did as he asked so that he could work the t-shirt over your head, laughing when he tossed it on the floor. 

“You weren’t wearing a bra?”

“I was about to go to sleep!”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Likely story.”

“No, you’re right. I came here in my pajamas fully intending to seduce you.”

“Well, it worked.”

“Of course it did. Men are so easy.”

He shook his head, tongue poking his cheek. “You’re going to regret saying that.”

You cocked your head to the side, fully aware that Minho had the physical upper hand. “We’ll see.”

As soon as the words left your mouth Minho’s hands were on your boobs, effectively shutting you up. He circled a thumb around each of your nipples, smirking when you gasped and arched your back. 

“Barely even touching you and look how eager you are for me,” he mused. 

“T-take your shirt off too.” It was meant to be a command, but it sounded more like a plea. 

“What’s the magic word?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fine, since you asked so nicely.”

Minho reached behind his neck and yanked his t-shirt off, throwing it in the same general direction as he had thrown yours. You had seen Minho shirtless plenty of times before and you still couldn’t help but stare. His body looked like one of those statues you had seen in the Louvre, carved out of marble by one of the artists they named the Ninja Turtles after. 

You reached out to touch his chest, running your fingertips along his pale skin. 

“Can I take these off too?” Minho asked, playing with the hem of your sweats. He snapped the elastic band against your hip, making you flinch. 

“Yes, please get them off of me, it’s hot,” you whined.

You were left in just your underwear beneath him. You were usually pretty confident with sexual partners, but with Minho you felt exposed, vulnerable. You felt the urge to cover yourself, even though he was looking at you like you were a star amongst the cosmos. 

He repositioned himself lower in between your legs and before you could ask what he was doing, he pressed his tongue against your clothed cunt, licking a fat stripe between your folds.

You cried out in surprise, hips bucking into his face as a string of curses left your mouth. 

Minho raised his head, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been imagining what you taste like for weeks. I just had to know.”

“It felt good,” you assured him, silently begging him to continue. “Was it what you hoped it would be?”

“Better. Can I please keep going?”

“God, yes.”

He placed a hand on either one of your thighs to hold you down as he buried his head in between your legs again. He teased you with his tongue over your panties, finding your clit in an impressively short amount of time. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his head against you. He groaned, his grip on your thighs tightening as you pulled his hair.

“Please, need more,” you whined. 

And Minho was all too willing to give you exactly that. Instead of taking the time to take your panties off, he just pulled them to the side so that he could have complete access to your pussy. He went back to work and you both moaned. His tongue was wet and warm and felt perfect on your clit. You frowned when he started moving lower, confused as to what he was doing until you felt his tongue working you open. No one had ever tongue-fucked you before and you thought you might cum from that alone. 

Minho paused again to catch his breath. “Fuck, I knew you were wet, but I didn’t expect you to be this wet,” he rasped out. 

“Sorry,” you hissed, cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Who the fuck ever told you to apologize for being turned on?”

“N-no one.”

“Good, because it’s hot.”

You scoffed. 

“Lay back down,” Minho said, nodding at you to punctuate his point. 

You rolled your eyes at him but did as he said anyway. “You’re so bossy.”

“Do you want me to keep going or not?”

“Fine, fine. Sorry.”

“I fucking knew you were a brat,” he sneered. 

“What gave it away?” you asked sweetly. 

“Take a wild guess.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows again despite just being told to lie down. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Instead of answering, Minho hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed, making you lose your balance and yelp in surprise. You watched his shoulder muscles flex as he used his strength to push your hips down, preventing you from squirming. The sight was enough to make you want to squeeze your thighs together, but of course, Minho was stopping you from doing just that. 

He pulled your panties off completely this time, apparently frustrated with the obstacle in his way. They joined the heap of clothes on the ground. You didn’t even need to look at them to know that they were ruined. 

His mouth was back on you before you could get another word in, causing any snarky remark you’d been about to make dissolve into a moan. It was a little sloppy at first. He had yet to fully regain his bearings, but dove in headfirst anyway. Kisses against the crux of your thigh, nips at your hip bones. Teasing and experimental. 

His touch didn’t have the practiced familiarity of a lover. Each movement was eager, exploratory. He was learning your body like he had all the time in the world, but you were growing impatient. 

Your hands flew to his hair again as he finally laved his tongue over your clit. You suppressed your moans this time, remembering what he had said about the neighbors. 

“Fuck, keep going,” you hissed, encouraging him to continue. “Please keep going.”

You could feel Minho smirking against your pussy, but you didn’t care. He could be as cocky as he wanted if he was going to make you feel this good. 

It didn’t take much to get you to the edge. It had been a while since you’d gotten laid, and you had been wanting Minho for God knows how long… you would usually be embarrassed, not want to give a man a bigger ego than he already had, but you had a feeling Minho was trying to get you to cum before fucking you and you wanted him inside of you as quickly as possible. If anything, you were doing him a favor. 

“C-close, Min. ‘M really close!”

You could barely make out the muffled “already?” that came from him between your legs, but you still rolled your eyes anyway, half-tempted to push his head away. 

He guided two of his fingers inside of you, giving you something to clench around as you came. The intention behind the action is what did it. He clearly cared about your pleasure which was rare to find in a partner, especially when said partner was a man. 

You came almost instantly, catching Minho off-guard as if “I’m close” hadn’t been warning enough. He must have taken it as an advanced notice rather than an immediate head’s up. He grunted in surprise as you bucked your hips up into his face, but recovered quickly, helping you ride out the orgasm until you relaxed back on the bed. 

He lifted his head finally, grinning like he’d just won the lottery, and sucked your arousal off of his fingers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand shortly afterward.

“Good?” he asked. 

“Really good,” you managed to choke out. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, take your pants off.”

Minho chuckled. “Should’ve known you’d only want me for my body.”

You pursed your lips but didn’t bother responding. You both knew that wasn’t true. Otherwise, why would you be risking everything just to fuck him? 

Minho pushed himself off of the bed and shimmied out of his pants. As good as he looked in the gray sweats, you knew he would look even better with them off. And you were right. Even though he was still wearing his briefs, you could see the outline of his dick much more prominently. It made your mouth water and you sat up and shifted onto your knees to return the favor he had just given you. 

Minho saw you reaching out for him but shook his head. 

“I need to feel you,” he said, voice strained. “If that’s okay. I already almost came in my pants just from eating you out, I won’t last.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Not many men would admit to that.”

“Not many men would admit to getting off on making their partner feel good? You’re right.” 

You watched as he picked his pants up off the floor and pulled a condom out of one of the pockets. 

“Oh now you have a condom?” you teased.

“Look, I usually have them on me, I just didn’t that night,” he exclaimed in defense, the thin foil packet between his teeth. He ripped it open and pulled the rubber out, only pausing when you spoke again. 

“You don’t keep them in your wallet, do you?”

“I do, but I change them out pretty often. Is that okay?” 

“That’s fine.”

With that settled, he slipped out of his underwear and rolled the condom on with ease. He joined you on the bed a moment later. You laid back and waited for Minho to position himself. 

“Wait-” you whispered suddenly, having been so in the moment that you had almost forgotten. “Are you clean?”

Minho let out a sigh of relief, probably having thought something was wrong. “Yeah, I got tested like two months ago.” 

“But the other night with that girl-”

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Oh. Why?”

“I mean, I fully intended to, if I’m being honest. But I just… couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t get it up?” 

“Something like that,” he sighed. “I probably should’ve asked this before going down on you, but you’re clean too, right?”

You nodded. “I get tested all the time and I haven’t had sex in a while.”

“That makes two of us.” 

You looked at him expectantly. “You may… continue.”

“I’m surprised that didn’t immediately make my dick soft.”

“Oh, give me a break. My brain is still fuzzy from cumming.”

He snorted. “You’re welcome.”

“I can’t believe that didn’t immediately make me dry up.”

“I’m allowed to be cocky!” he protested. “I made you cum in, what, a minute flat?”

“It took longer than a minute!”

“I don’t know about that. I think we should check the replay.”

“You’re such a dork.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “And that must really turn you on. ‘Cause last time I checked you were dripping onto the sheets.”

“I-” you had nothing. You squeezed your thighs around Minho’s waist, trying to coax him inside of you. “Just stick it in already!”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he repeated.

You held onto his arms as he pushed himself in, sighing in relief at the fullness. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but he was still sizable. You had to take a second to adjust to the stretch before he could start to move. He fit perfectly, at least that’s what it felt like. You were positive he could tell how much you liked his cock from the way you unconsciously clenched around him, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care. If his ego inflated to the size of the moon after this, fuck it.

“Fuck, st-stop doing that,” Minho stuttered, pressing one of his hands against your hip to try and keep you still. 

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re, God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he hissed. “If you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t even realize.”

You took a deep breath and willed your body to relax. It had been so long since you’d been properly fucked and you didn’t want it to be over before it even started. 

“Are you good to keep going?” Minho asked once he’d regained some semblance of composure. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Yeah, fuck please move.”

He leaned down to kiss you as he began to rock his hips into yours and you met him halfway. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and nipped at your bottom lip when you pulled away. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he confessed, voice raspy. 

Baby was new. And it made you whimper in response. 

“So goddamn tight. It’s like your pussy was made for me.”

Did he say this to every girl he fucked? Because it sounded like a line, but it was working like a charm on you. 

As if he realized he was rambling, he busied his mouth in other ways. He kissed your neck, careful not to leave marks, before moving down to the valley of your breasts where he continued his work. The way he lowered himself onto you pushed his cock in even deeper, something you didn’t think was possible. 

His lips were warm. They were so warm. Each kiss felt like you were touching the sun. You could feel the heat against your skin even as he moved away, pressing kisses elsewhere. 

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Minho asked. 

You hadn’t even realized that you had been smiling, or that he had stopped kissing you. He was going faster now too. You hadn’t noticed that either. You were far too gone, clearly.

“Feels good,” was as much as you could manage, but that seemed to satisfy Minho. 

“Yeah? Have I fucked you dumb already?” he cooed condescendingly. 

You nodded. “Feels sooo good. Feel so full.”

You’d be embarrassed by your barely-comprehensible sentences, but you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure in that moment. You doubted you’d even remember what you said in the morning. 

“You close again, baby?”

“Uh huh.”

“Fuck, me too. I’ll get you there, though. I’ll make you feel even better.”

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and used his thumb to rub somewhat uncoordinated circles on it. He was gentler than he had been before, like he knew you were still sensitive from cumming the first time. The added stimulation brought you back to the edge in record time and all you could do to alert Minho of what was happening was frantically grab his bicep and squeeze it repeatedly.

“Gonna cum? Go ahead, baby.”

Your entire body tensed as your second orgasm of the night washed over you. Minho fucked you through it again, announcing that he was cumming right as you started to come down. Watching his face scrunch up in pleasure as he came was almost enough to send you into a third orgasm. His eyes shut and his mouth fell open into an O shape as his hips faltered. He didn’t stop thrusting until he was certain he’d given you every last drop of his cum, choking out a string of curses followed by your name through gritted teeth. 

He collapsed on top of you seconds later, completely spent and still inside of you. 

“Fuck, that was good,” he panted. You nodded in agreement, wincing when you felt him pull out. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I can walk. My legs feel like jelly.”

“Would another orgasm help?”

“No,” you groaned. “I can’t take another one.”

“I was kidding. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and back to your room.”

“Nooo, I’m tired,” you whined. 

“I know, I know,” he said softly, “but you can’t sleep here. Unless you want Jisung to find out?”

“Fine,” you mumbled. Your eyes were closed, but you could hear him moving around the hotel room. “Just give me like five minutes to nap.”

“You know I can’t do that.” When you opened your eyes he was wearing pants again and standing beside the bed waiting for you. “You need to shower. And pee. A UTI in the middle of vacation would really suck.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You knew that before sleeping with me.”

“Yeah, and I still did it anyway. Now, get up.”

“You’re so bossy,” you muttered under your breath, repeating the sentiment you had already voiced. Minho just chuckled and helped you to your feet.

“You seemed to like that earlier.”

“Yeah, when you were making me cum.”

“Well, I won’t be able to make you cum anymore if you contract an infection. So I have to be bossy or else you won’t listen.” 

“Or else you won’t listen,” you mocked. 

Minho grinned despite himself and shook his head at you. “We should’ve started doing this way sooner.”

hope y'all liked this one :) lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

iou tags: @gimmeurtmi @phobia0325 @fwess @hipsdofangirl @galaxleeknow @urmomma0324 @bangmechanpls @102598s @farfromsugafanfic @ritzy-roo @dimpledsatan @bvselines @wonderfulshinee @imwithurmother @smollquokka @rosexjimin @skizzel @endzii23 @lady-lena @kwanisms @ch4nniebang @lilramennoodle @babyphotos0325 @dearalice @sojohns @mistlitmoonlight @yoontaethings @babebatter @mal-lunar-28 @shy-kisu @zerefdragn33l @downbadreading @sana-within-you @saquso @bunnispaces @reianagarcia @hyunehans @imtooyoungforthisshit @i8rsie @honeslykindahorny @214racha @hgema @chillllllli @vixensss @smhlino @feiyaa @borahae-reads @bigbearenergy @hoodiesandicedcoffee @darkacademic2512 @y00nzin0 @i8yul @shinypieceofgarbage @woozarts @just-a-little-delulu @djeniryuu @hbzzzbork000 @mimzibee @sofiaslayed @kangyounghyunhands @lexxxxs-things @baejinswrld @gaysontheprince @emogril @ngengngeng

add yourself to my taglist here!

[wingzie]

Speaking to the media as a UK Army

Earlier in the week I mentioned in a local group chat that the UK’s attitude towards BTS and KPOP overall had changed. It felt like everyone was excited during Dynamite and then interest was quickly lost. Things got worse after the Festa Dinner. Because of previous experiences with a certain boy group, it was reported that the members would never return. These stories were soon edited, but it was obvious that there was a certain bias against the members now. The previous hype posts for them and their new releases were less present. Instead, we have gone back to having to do everything ourselves during chapter 2. 

As I am sure many of you are aware, it has already been a tough week for UK Army. We found out that MUSE had inclusions, making it harder to chart. We got backlash from solos for something that wasn’t our fault and the emails we sent were ignored or received weird responses. We are a resilient bunch though and we continued to promote and gain more funds. I figured that things for us couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong. On Sunday I was sent an article from the BBC by a friend. They asked my thoughts on it and I quickly understood why. Something else worried me though. I recognized the journalist. He is someone that we have history with. He kindly wrote about Persona and Wembley in 2019, but he also sneaked in a line that he thought that the members were miming through the concert. At the time, a few Army tried talking to him about it on Twitter and he was receptive to the feedback. I decided to try and do the same and to do it privately in the DM’s. Something which he told me himself that he appreciated. I spent a good amount of time drafting my message. I made sure that it was polite, but also included the reasons why a certain part of the article was troublesome. During this, a friend of mine also made a detailed thread correcting the misinformation. Once the message was sent, I went on with my day and waited to see if I would get a reply. Much to my surprise, I did indeed get a reply. I don’t have consent to share our messages, but we replied back and forth a few times and he said that he would look into changing the wording. I quoted my friend's thread, explaining that I messaged him privately and that he was working on it. As someone who posts about Jikook on a regular basis, you could say that I am used to getting unnecessary abuse. However, I was not fully prepared for the response to this. As more hours passed and there weren't any changes made, the more anger and hate I received. This greatly confused me, as I wasn’t the one who wrote the article itself. I just wanted to try and help and we had to be patient. 

A day later the edit was made. I messaged the journalist again to thank him and he responded back, explaining that the reason it took so long was because there was a debate internally about the best way to respond. I then shared on TL about the edit being made. It wasn’t the best edit, but that’s all we got. Unfortunately, the hate towards myself increased even more. Some said that the article was my fault, that I failed BTS or that I was an anti. Plus a few words that I daren’t repeat here. Some saw what was happening to me and sent kind support. These included people who I have never interacted with before and I will be forever thankful for that. I also spoke with some about the response of the general public towards the article. The article was heavily advertised so there were discussions in relation to Seventeen going to Glastonbury. This hasn’t been done before so some were curious and some were confused. It was interesting to see the reaction to it, even if it was poorly written. I was personally exhausted though.

This whole ordeal started on Sunday and I woke up on Tuesday still feeling a bit wary of receiving more hate. On top of this, I had gained around 300 more followers from all of this and didn’t know how they would react once I started posting Jikook. If I’m honest, I felt a bit uncomfortable with everything going on. What did shock me though, is that some of these new followers were going through my “pinned” post and liking the threads on Jikook. It made me a bit self-conscious, but I didn’t want it to overcome me and Jimin’s promotions though, so I came up with an idea. 

July is my Birthday month and to celebrate I am doing a giveaway for other UK Army. This gives them a chance to get any albums they currently do not own and to try and boost sales for Jimin at the same time. The UK fanbase don’t really want to be associated with me because of my account, so I decided to do everything myself. To help boost morale, positivity and the community spirit that Army has. Overall, I do not regret reaching out to the journalist. He was rather difficult to speak to, but an edit deserved to be made for the way in which it was written. I appreciate the discussion we had and those that supported me. My focus will continue to be on Chapter 2. Look after yourselves and each other. 

[ckret2]

I know you probably don't have an answer, but id like to see what you think. Was the book of Bill written during his time in the Theraprism or way beforehand? Or is it just like Ford's journal where he's already writing in it regardless. Also I'm trying to figure out how the Book of Bill plays a part in this fanfic since the Pines family have already read it and already know his secrets? Or did they not read it all the way and only paid attention to what they wanted to?

I don't need to have an answer of my own because the book thoroughly provides one. I'm not gonna grab screenshots and quotes because that would take a whole lot of time and I don't wanna spend that kind of time so I'm just gonna state for the record all of the below is canonical to something said either in the book or (for Gus) in promotional material.

The book is made to "communicate" with Bill even after death. The contents of The Book of Bill actively update for each person reading it, as they read it, and even can change each time they open the book.

The book's made out of brain matter, and Bill says he can possess anything with neurons (thus letting him alter the book's contents in real time).

Bill is actively remotely writing the book from the Theraprism as it's being read. The staff even catches him in the act of writing it and inserts a note a few pages before the end of the book saying he's breaking the rules by contacting outsiders but they'll give him five minutes to wrap up. We get a photo of him in his little orange prison jumpsuit beaming his thoughts onto the page of his end of the book (suggesting TBOB works like a walkie talkie—Bill says something into a book on his end and it comes out of the book on the other end).

When Ford looks in the book, he sees a bunch of difficult riddles. When Mabel looks in the book, it offers to tell her about everyone who's had a crush on her. When Stan looks at it, it has a chapter on how to win the lottery. When Gus (the park ranger from OregonParksDept on twitter) opens the book, Bill addresses him by name, talks to him about Gus's own life, and asks him if he wants to improve his life.

When YOU—a fan of Bill Cipher and Gravity Falls—look at the book, it tells you Bill's opinions on a lot of topics, his history, and the history of Gravity Falls. Nobody in-universe who opens the book is a Bill Cipher fan.

The Pines family didn't see his secrets because he didn't list his secrets for them to see. He listed what he desperately thought might persuade each of them to keep reading long enough to let him worm into their heads and start manipulating them—and they thought his attempt was pretty pathetic. They slapped notes in the book for the next person to pick it up and chucked it.

[teyums]

His Secret Admirer (Part Two) - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader

part one | part three | part four |bonus chapter

wc: 4.6k

a/n: I’m so sorry this took so long y’all, I had such bad writers block trying to figure out which direction I wanted to push this story in. This honeslty isn’t as good as I wanted to be but maybe I’m being too hard on myself. This is the first multiple part fanfic I’ve written in almost seven years. 😅

contains: angst, some language

“~~~” resembles a time skip or change of POV

Neteyam sat silently on the floor of his family’s tent, his elbows against his knees and his head held between his hands while he listened to his mother chastise him for what felt like the thousandth time today. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t tried to keep you out as long as possible, constantly bringing up new topics so the conversation wouldn’t fall off. He never meant for you to stay out past your curfew, but he got so wrapped up in spending time with you that he didn’t want it to end.

“Where were you?” Neytiri seethed, pushing his head to the side with two fingers while her son ignored her. “Do you know how many times we called for you? What is the point of having this if you do not listen?” She hissed, motioning to the necklace he wore that contained a small walkie-talkie.

He bit his lip to keep himself from saying anything out of anger, his arms now crossed in front of him while he tried his hardest to tune out her incessant interrogation. He vaguely remembered shutting it off, not wanting him or you to hear it and bring the two of you back to real life. “I was out, mother.” He mumbled.

She scoffed with antipathy, turning away from him and flicking her hand into the air with annoyance, seemingly tagging Jake into the conversation before she did something she would regret.

Jake sighed, looking down at his son with a puzzlement. “Out where? Can you at least tell us what you were doing? It isn’t like you to stay out this late, son.”

Neteyam had enough of being watched like a hawk for his entire life. When he would try to go out and have fun just like Lo’ak would do, it was an issue. He stood to his feet suddenly, his voice raised and laced with frustration. “I was with a girl, okay? Is that what the two of you want to hear? If I tell you this will you guys finally leave me alone about this whole mate thing?” He yelled, his shoulder brushing against his father’s as he stormed past him and into his room.

Jake noticed Neytiri’s eye twitch with aggravation, her mouth slightly ajar with stupefy as she watched this unusual display from her eldest son. She had never seen him act out in such away, let alone disrespect his father, this was unknown to them. When she stepped to follow him, Jake grabbed her arm and slowly shook his head, silently telling her to leave him be.

Neteyam felt no matter what he did, his parents would find an issue. For years Jake wouldn’t let him act on his feelings towards you, constantly telling him that girls were not his main priority but he would let Lo’ak run around and pursue whatever girl he pleased. And now, they’re pressuring him to find a mate at the same time multiple men have noticed and already expressed their interest towards you. He couldn’t blame them, you had developed into such an alluring woman. There was just something about you that he couldn’t shake. Your beauty stunned him, you had changed so much over the years that when he would see you prance around the village with Kiri he couldn’t even gather the courage to approach you. He had no chance competing with Ta’olu, he saw the way he looked at you, he heard the way he spoke about you during the hunting party meetings. All the years he had been gone from your life, it seemed like Ta’olu had conveniently stepped right in to take his place.

And if he were being honest, Neteyam resented his parents for putting him in this position. He didn’t want any of the other girls they were trying to set him up with, the mere thought of mating with someone he wasn’t truly in love with sent shivers through his spine and not the good kind. Not the kind you gave him, anyway.

But every time he tried to tell to them about you, about the girl he was actually in love with, he was shot down before he could even say your name. Something about “status” in the clan, and them knowing who would make the best Tsahik to stand beside him.

Bullshit.

“You got to choose who you wanted to mate with, why can I not do the same?” He would yell at his parents, but his words would constantly fall on deaf ears.

The eldest Sully boy barely knew what a crush was. He felt his entire existence boiled down to being the protector of his younger siblings and the future clan leader- what his parents wanted him to be. He hadn’t known what it felt like to be in love until the night he laid eyes on you. He passed it off as inviting you to be his friend, but deep down he knew it was more than that, Lo’ak and Kiri included. The day he was told he could no longer spend time with you split his heart into two. But all it took was two painfully short hours in your presence to mend it back together again.

~~~

Sleep had been the last thing on your mind the past two days. You spent both nights tossing and turning- all you could think about was him. A reoccurring image of Neteyam’s sweet smile flashed behind your eyelids every time they closed, the memory of his voice causing them to open despite your attempts to keep them glued shut. The brief time you two had spent together, and how special it felt after years of being reduced to rushed conversations and short glances. You groaned, sliding both your hands down your face and letting your fingers drag across your lips. You had no idea what you were going to do. But what you did know was that night was one of the best nights of your entire life and barely anything happened. You felt like a little girl again and your crush was returning with a vengance.

You thought about what your mom had said, that you should make your move and let him know how you feel. That following morning, you begged her to teach you all that she knew about being a healer and the two of you got started immediately. You figured if you wanted to be Neteyam’s mate, you had to possess skills that would serve useful to an olo’eyktan. Although, you wish you had gotten into this sooner, because now that you were older the lessons were long and grueling to make up for lost time. You had no idea mixing up a bunch of herbs with a stick required this much thinking.

“[Y/n]?” Your mother’s voice brought you back to Pandora and you turned your eyes to meet a disapproving stare.

“I’m sorry, Ma.” You sighed, shaking your head and sitting up straight now to give her your undivided attention. “I can focus, I promise.” You nodded reassuringly, in which she returned with an unconvinced grunt. You didn’t blame her.

God, this was going to be a long process.

You thanked the spirits when the lesson finally came to an end, standing up and dramatically cradling your back with your hands to stretch it.

“You will have to get used to this if you want to learn the ways of a healer.” Your mother said in response to your display, picking up the materials that laid spread out on the mat of your hut and tucking them away into their designated areas. When you had asked her to start teaching you all that she knew, she was more than overjoyed. She had actively been trying to get you to learn the medicinal ways of your clan, almost like she was playing matchmaker from the start.

Feeling bad for wanting to escape so soon, you instead decided to walk around the house readjusting the most random objects, feigning interest in the same rug that had been there for years. You stood with your hands held in front of you, rocking back and forth from the tips of your toes to the backs of your heels as you avoided her gaze with an awkward whistle.

“Yes, you may go now.”

A smile big enough to almost split your jaw worked its way onto your face and you gathered your things at the speed of light, trying your hardest not to look so excited when you made your way out of your home.

Now that the lesson was over, all you could focus on were the plans you had made with Kiri for the day.  The two of you were to venture into the forest in search for small materials that could be crafted into beads for bracelets or necklaces. While you had never really been very interested in healing work, you loved to make jewelry and were a damn good seamstress. You alone had sewn together many Na’vi’s hunting attire.

You loved hanging out with someone who felt connected to nature just as much as you did. Nobody had really figured out just how connected Kiri was to Eywa, but just from watching how she carried herself you knew it was much stronger than any of the others- maybe even stronger than Tsahik.

The village was bustling with na’vi and very lively today, the simple sight of it all warmed your heart. You watched as preparations began to unfold for the clan’s annual Festival of Lights, a celebration in thanks to the spirits for a bountiful hunting season. It was your favorite time of year and everyone seemed much happier the days leading up to it- especially Neteyam. This was one of the rare times of the year he could actually relax and enjoy himself, free from all duties and allowed to simply live his life the way he wanted for a few days.

Or so you thought.

You decided that you would craft a gorgeous necklace for Neteyam with the rare marbles you hoped you’d find near one of the fresh water springs, and what better time to give it to him than during the festival tomorrow? You knew you couldn’t express your feelings to him without an offering. If a Na’vi woman favors a Na’vi male for her mate but has not been suggested to him by his parents or the man himself, she must present her love with an offering in which he can accept or decline. The clan was very big on arranged courtship, which made admitting your feelings so much more of a big deal and ten times scarier.

As you paced through the path to the Sully’s quarters you greeted the elders that passed you and smiled at the small children who were busy entertaining themselves with a friendly game of tag.  Before you knew it, you were in front of the hut that housed a big chunk of your childhood memories. You pulled back one of the curtains with your hand, poking your head through as to not barge in and waving at Kiri who sat criss cross on the floor while dicing up some fruits.

“[Y/n]! Come in, come in!” A welcoming grin made its way onto her face as she waved you inside the home, quickly standing up to discard her task embrace you in a hug that rocked you back and forth. “It’s been too long.”

You hugged her back and laughed at her exaggeration, pulling back from the hug slightly to roll your eyes at her. “It’s been a week, Kiri.” You quipped.

She held onto your forearms with her five-fingered hands, an overly serious look taking over her expression. “Yes, a week too long my sister!”

“[Y/N]!” A squealing Tuk came running out from the other room, her short braids bouncing with almost as much energy as the little girl they belonged to. She squeezed herself between you and Kiri, hugging your legs with so much force you nearly stumbled and beaming up at you.

“Hi TukTuk.” You chuckled at her excitement, stroking her braids affectionately. “I swear, it’s like every time I come over here you’re so much bigger than last!”

Tuk was like the younger sibling you never had, and even though she annoyed the absolute hell out of her siblings you loved having her around you, her constant optimism was refreshing.

The little girl accepted your compliment with a toothy grin, piping up to change the subject. “Neteyam told me to tell you he said hello! Can you date my brother already so I can have two sisters?” She questioned eagerly, jumping up and down on her toes.

Your eyes almost popped out of your head hearing the words that came out of her mouth. You blushed profusely, not knowing what to say and instantly looking at Kiri for help who was already hunched over in a fit of laughter. “Kiri!” You whisper shouted, watching her straighten up instantly.

She wiped a potential tear from her eye, clearing her throat and gently pulling her little sister from your legs. “Alright Tuk. [Y/n] and I have some activities to do so why don’t you go down to the village and find Mama, hm?” Kiri suggested, resulting in the little girl shrugging her shoulders and skipping off with contentment as if she hadn’t tried to blow your life up right where you stood.

Kiri gave you a suspecting glance and a teasing smile, using her fingers to poke at your sides while you tried to get your face back to its usual shade of blue.

“Don’t you dare.” You held a hand up in her face before she could begin terrorizing you, turning on your heels and grabbing her wrist to lead her out of the hut.

~~~

“Kiri, stop taking all the pretty ones! The least you could do is save some for me, this was my idea you know.” You scoffed, watching her scoop up a handful of small, gorgeous multi-colored marbles you had finally found after almost an hour of looking and dump them into her satchel. She shook her head and snickered at you, taking half the amount she collected for herself and dropping them into your bag which contained other materials that could be crafted into beads.

“Thank you.” You smiled, laughing when she stuck her tongue out at you just like her younger sister.

“Yeah, yeah.” The snarky girl crouched down to continue her search, waving you off with a hand while she sifted through the soil beneath your feet to find more. “Why do you need these again? I haven’t seen you make jewelry in ages, last time I asked for a necklace you said you didn’t make them anymore.” She queried.

You tightly pressed your lips together and nervously rubbed your arm with your opposing hand, shrugging off her question as if it hadn’t caused your brain to try and come up with fifty different answers that were far from the truth. “No reason, just wanted to make some things for my mother. Her birthday is coming up, wanted to give her something really special.”

Kiri narrowed her eyes at you, rising up so the both of you were eye level. God, you knew her connection with Eywa was absolutely insane, but since when did she have the power to hear someone else’s thoughts too?

“You’re lying. Her birthday was almost three months ago.” She spoke, putting her hands on her hips and tilting her head at you with a smirk. “So, do you want to tell me the truth, or are we gonna sit here and act like you didn’t just forgot your own mother’s birthday?”

You let out a short huff, bringing your hand up to the bridge of your nose and pinching it. Of course she saw right through your excuse, you knew better than to lie to Pandora Jesus- at least that’s what Lo’ak used to call her. You would never say that to her face, though. Unless for some odd reason you were craving a mouthful of dirt for lunch. “Fine,” you started, looking away while you spoke and lowering your voice. “It’s for your brother.” You mumbled, the two of you deciding to start on your walk back to the village while the conversation proceeded.

“No way! Neteyam?!” She gasped dramatically, holding her hand up to her mouth as she attempted to look shocked. Your mouth fell open once realizing she was forging her surprised expression.

“Wait… you knew the whole time?” You gulped.

The look on your face made the slender girl titter with satisfaction. “No shit, both me and Lo’ak. Hell, you damn near drool every time you look at the man!” She sneered.

You groaned and threw your hands up in the air, more out of embarrassment than anything else. This was the first person you had told about your crush on Neteyam other than your mother, you truly thought no one else knew. To see her not even the least bit surprised made you wonder who else had caught on.

The two of you decided to start on your walk back to the village while your conversation proceeded. “Does he know?”

“Oh, of course not.” Kiri responded almost immediately, raising her arm to pluck a fruit from the tree above you. “You know my brother is oblivious to girls. He’s probably the most sought out in the village, yet he still finds it difficult to believe when someone likes him. He does talk about you quite a bit though.” She shrugged, taking a bite out of her newly acquired snack.

“Really?” Your ears perked up and the giddy smile on your face didn’t seem to help to hide the newfound hope brewing inside your chest. You ducked your head under low hanging branches, jogging a little to keep up with Kiri’s fast strides once you realized you were falling behind. “Well? What does he say?”

You could almost see the smile on her face from the back of her head, probably because you could hear it through her voice. “He said he misses hanging out with you, wants to do it more often. I believe that’s why he hasn’t chosen a mate, because once he does, the two of you won’t be able to spend time alone like that anymore.” The thought of your time being cut short for the second time right after the two of you had found each other again was enough to make you panic.

“I heard my parents talking last night. They’re wondering why he hasn’t picked yet.” She suddenly stopped walking and turned to face you, her hands grabbing yours with an encouraging smile. “So I may have put in a good word or two. After all, I think you’re a much better fit for him than any of the other girls.”

You finally felt as if everything was piecing itself together, your nerves began to melt away just like your heart did at Kiri’s words. Your gaze fell to the floor when you felt your face heat up like campfire and your tail began to swish with delight. “So, what I’m hearing is there’s still time?” You asked, sounding much more optimistic than you had intended.

Kiri’s eyes left your own and looked past your head, the corners of her mouth twitching into a mischevious grin when she seemingly spotted something you hadn’t. “I don’t know,” she started, grabbing your shoulders to turn you around. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Before you could even process the words that came out of her mouth, you were pushed forward with so much force that you stumbled out of the trees and into Neteyam’s line of sight. By the time you whipped your head around to hiss at Kiri, she was already gone.

You nervously turned back around, laughing to yourself at the stoic expression he carried around everywhere he went. You couldn’t help but feel starstruck every time you saw him, it was like your mind pictured him moving in slow motion simply to taunt you. He looked incredibly different from the years prior and you definitely were not complaining. And even though he hadn’t wanted to talk about it, it was pretty obvious how truly extensive and challenging his training must be. His arms had developed broad, toned muscles and you wondered if his abs would sound hollow had you knocked on them. You quickly straightened up when the solemn look on his face replaced itself with a bright smile once he picked your face out from the others.

You cleared your throat and tried to regain your composure as much as possible while he approached you, giving him a sweet smile in return and meeting him halfway.

“Hi.” You mentally cringed as soon as you heard the greeting your brain decided to choose. But lucky for you, his smile only got bigger. You could speak complete gibberish and he would sit and listen like he understood.

“Hey… How are you doing? With, you know.” He motioned down to your foot.

You tilted your head at him in confusion and it took you a few seconds to realize what he was referring to. Once it finally clicked, your cheeks flushed a bright red, remembering the predicament your injury had gotten the two of you into. “Oh! This old thing? Pshh.” You babbled like an idiot, looking around to try and focus on anything other than the handsome face in front of you.

He laughed at your display, the air around the two of you settling while you both tried to think of the words to say next.

“So I-“ Two voices overlapped as you guys opened your mouths to speak at the exact same time, making the both of you burst into a fit of laughter. You covered your mouth to hide your grin, shaking your head at him rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“You first.” He smiled.

You nodded your head and swallowed your pride, building up the courage for your request. “I really enjoyed flying with you on your Ikran the other night. And I was wondering if… maybe we could do it again sometime?” You questioned reluctantly, not entirely sure of what his answer would be. You figured spending some more time with Neteyam to prepare yourself for tomorrow would do your nerves some good.

“You’re not afraid anymore?” Much to your surprise he actually looked interested, his eyebrow raising along with the pitch of his voice. He couldn’t believe someone who had previously shown so much fear wanted to do the exact thing they were frightened of, again. Ikran rides were very exciting though, so really he was having a hard time believing you wanted to do it with him, again.

“No, I’m not.” You turned your head to the side a bit as you blushed. “But only because the mighty warrior helped me overcome my fear.” You teased.

Watching Neteyam trip and stumble over his words was like being able to come face to face with a Palulukan and not die. So in other words, extremely rare and not a common sight. He took your hand in his and looked down at you, hoping the loud beating of his heart would answer your question since his voice was having trouble staying steady in your presence. Your cheeks were sore now from how hard you were smiling.

“I would love-“

Just as he was about to agree to your proposal, an ear-bleeding voice made the both of you wince.

“Nete-yammm!” You watched as Eyiti waved her arm above her head like a madwoman and damn near sprinted in you and his direction. You cursed to yourself and rolled your eyes, which Neteyam did not happen to miss. Little did you know, he felt the exact same way about her as you did. Once she approached the two of you she batted her lashes at him and you swear you almost threw up in your mouth. Her eyes shot down to your intertwined fingers, the both of you begrudgingly releasing the other. You felt the urge to tighten your grip, but you knew it wasn’t a good look for the olo’eyktan’s son to be seen displaying public affection with a woman who had not yet been suggested to him.

She cleared her throat with satisfaction, completely disregarding your presence and continuing to eyefuck him. “Are you busy, ‘Teyam?”

The sound of her voice using the nickname you had reserved for him was enough to make your eye convulse as you felt irritation overwhelm your previously good mood. You dipped your head to the side a bit to catch her gaze, waving a hand in front of her face to break the trance she was in. “Uh, hello?” You spoke up, tilting your head to the side with a tight lipped smile once she glared at you. “Yeah, hi. It seems you’re missing a few letters there. You know, the ’N’ and the ‘E’.” Neteyam looked at you with an astounded expression, and even you were surprised at the fact that you managed to speak up. If you weren’t mistaken, you heard the slightest chuckle from him too.

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and you felt a hint of accomplishment from ruffling her feathers a bit, only for her to turn her attention back towards him. “You promised you’d finish organizing preparations with my parents to be my date for the festival, remember?” She spoke, her hand now finding its way to stroke his arm.

Hearing those words come from her of all people felt like a knife driving right through your chest. You looked to Neteyam with disbelief clouding your eyes, hoping for something, anything to let you know that what she had just said wasn’t true. He only shut his eyes for a brief moment, opening his mouth to speak but a deep exhale followed instead of words like you expected. Her mouth curved into a sinister grin only you could notice. After dealing with her for so many years, you knew she would hide her true intentions behind fraudulent innocence.

You felt betrayed and you hated yourself for it. The two of you weren’t even together, you hadn’t even been suggested to him. You scolded yourself for even thinking the few hours the two of you spent together after years apart meant anything more than a friendly catch up to him.

He shifted his gaze to you, the look on his face more than apologetic. “I’m sorry, [Y/n]. I can explain this…” His voice was filled with remorse but his heart yearned to say more. There was something more than an explanation dancing behind his eyes, but you were much too embarrassed to look at him and discover it. He desperately felt the need to rectify the situation but you simply shook your head and took a step back.

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling exposed all of a sudden and not caring if you had failed to look unbothered. It was impossible to hide how you truly felt from him, your efforts would have been futile regardless of how hard you tried. “It’s fine, go.” You stopped your voice from cracking, daring not to look at him while you felt his stare only grow stronger.

You felt his fingers brush against your forearm as he reached for you, resulting in you raising your arms slightly to avoid his grasp. “I hope the two of you have fun.” You choked out, excusing yourself before you became subject to further humiliation. You heard his voice call out for you but there was no way you could turn back to face him, the tears you had made such an effort to keep unshed were now threatening to spill over.

You kept your head down as you walked, nearly falling back onto your bottom when your body came in contact with a ridiculously hard surface.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I should have been watching where I was going.” You blinked away your tears, looking up to see none other than Ta’olu staring down at you.

The tall male peered at you with a confident smile, amusement written all over his face, not at all minding that you had used him as an anchor to not fall over. “No worries, I was actually coming to find you.”

You cocked your head to the side with interest. You weren’t entirely sure why he would have been looking for you, seeing as the last time you had asked him to hang out he ditched you for some random girl he had met the day before. “Okay… what’s up?” You cleared your throat, trying to set aside what had just happened a minute ago.

His stance shifted slightly and he grabbed hold of your hand, the interaction not being nearly as enjoyable as it was with Neteyam. His hand on yours was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and hibernate for the rest of the year. His gruff voice snapped you out of your thoughts, his question being exactly what you feared.

“Would you be my date for the festival tomorrow?”

a/n:Isn’t Eyiti just the worst? And who the hell is this Ta’olu dude? 🙈*mischievous laughter* I’m so sorry for leaving y’all on a cliff hanger but I had to end this chapter here! I wonder what’s gonna go down in part 3 🤔 I’m sorry if i missed your tag! I wrote them down but when I entered it in some of them wouldn’t pop up 💔

Please like + reblog if you can it’s much appreciated 💞

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@eringaitskill @bwormie @fanboyluvr @ssc7514 @meivap @afro-hispwriter @hello1kittyz @melsunshine @katsukiswrld @mcdonaldsplayground @itscheybaby @neenieweenie @babyvinnie @msjae @laylasbunbunny @epicy0n @dreamersbelieveinus @elegantzippercashshoe

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.5 K Warnings: None Prompt: Who said potions class was meant to be boring? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 32: Come A Little Bit Closer

You groaned the second your alarm went off, placing a pillow over your eyes as you winced from the light being extremely harsh to your rather sensible senses. You checked the clock, you were pretty sure you had half threatened Sirius with making his life miserable through Moony last night and blinked a couple of times to force yourself awake. 

After checking the time one last time, trying to convince yourself that the clock said 4:30 instead of 5:30 so you could sleep another hour, only to realize it wasn’t, you raised yourself until you were sitting on your bed “fuck,” you whispered as you felt the ache on your legs and back. You had rolled yourself into a ball, and while initially, the pain had been drawn out by the stress of the water spirit and the euphoria from the party, it wasn’t anymore. Just when I had started to feel fine, you thought. 

You yawned and went to change, rolling your shoulders a couple of times, at least the shoulder wound was a lot better now, and the painkiller potion for that one would also help for the fall, which meant, by the time you were ready, and the meds had kicked in you felt a lot better, except for the fact that you were half tempted to wear a pair of sunglasses even if it was cloudy outside. When you walked down, Sirius and James were already there. 

Sirius gave you a look, taking in your demeanour in an instant and smirking, “You sure you still want to fly, Vix?” 

You gave him a look and huffed, “Very.” 

He chuckled as he walked towards you and placed his arm around your shoulder, “If you say so then.” 

James, who had no idea you had threatened Pads but had gotten a threat of his own in the morning from Sirius, to not go hard on you because of the fall –that he still had to speak his mind to you about– was a little confused with the interaction, but decided that it was probably something to do with being in a relationship. And since he had barely gotten Lily to go on one date with him, he really wouldn’t know. 

Once you got to the pitch Sirius pulled out a small notebook from his pocket and opened it, handing it over to you, “Memorise this.” 

You frowned, trying to figure out why Sirius would give you a notebook, but then you read some of the words and understood, it was the counterspell he had mentioned the previous night. You smiled, at how neatly he had written it down, at how he’d separated his cursive more than normal and paid attention to adding the extra dots and lines he sometimes left out.

Sirius had written it for you, and he wanted you to pay attention so he had been extra careful with it. And you, being as naturally curious as a fox, decided to snoop around the notebook a little more. There were a few silly doodles and for a minute you worried that he had given you his sketchbook, but it was definitely not it, that one was a little wider, and the cover was black, this one, on the other hand, had a wine red cover, a very Gryffindor notebook. 

There were lists of songs, with names for mixtapes at the top on some pages, and a few movies some muggle friends had recommended, including some you and Remus had told him about. On some of the pages you spotted your name written on the edges, and you smiled, you didn’t know boys did that too. 

“You done?” He asked as he turned to you, he had been pulling out some stuff from the shed with James. You quickly changed the page to the one you had to be on and smiled. 

“Almost,” you said before trying to fully focus on the page and the words. They weren’t tricky, in fact, it was kind of a combination of protection spells you already knew, but it was rather long. His thick and delicate handwriting occupies the entire page and then some of the next one. 

After a few more minutes you took a deep breath and nodded “I think I’m ready.” 

“Good,” Sirius said, “Take your broom and hover for a bit.” You did as told. “Not so high silly, what if you fall?” he asked as he saw you float a few feet above his head. 

“I won’t fall,” you said confidently. 

“Vix, lower,” James said rather sternly, it was his captain’s voice. You were a little angry at his demanding tone but after a huff, you did as told. They were right anyway, you weren’t looking forward to falling again. You had enough bruising and soreness for the rest of the fucking year. Scratch that, for the rest of this one and the next one, you only had like thirty days left of 1976 anyway.

“Ready?” Sirius asked, you nodded. And then he started mumbling something, at first, there was nothing, you just continued hoovering peacefully, but then you felt it, a soft yank to the side. Slowly the movements got worse and worse and you felt like you were on a mechanical bull. Sirius looked at you concentrated, a small frown on his soft features as he did. Like he didn’t want to push too hard, but he knew whoever kept trying to push you off your broom –Barty– wouldn’t be merciful so he pushed on.  

That’s when you started muttering the counterspell, tightening your grip on the handle and focusing your magic on your palms, letting it flow through your body and onto the item that was being jinxed. It wasn’t easy, wandless magic always held a small degree of complication, especially the more advanced it was, and counterspells were no easy feat. 

Eventually, you lost the battle and ended up on the floor. Sirius rushed to help but you shook your head, raising your hand to indicate that he stayed in place, and then took a deep breath, “Again.”

“But…” 

“Again,” you insisted “I have to master this one,” you added as you mounted your broom and nodded for Sirius to start again. James was watching attentively and allowed it to continue. Even after you fell over the second time, gritting your teeth and whispering “again.” 

After a couple more times, it was James the one that stepped in. “How about we call it for today and continue trying tomorrow?” he suggested. You had just fallen from your broom and were sitting on the floor looking impossibly tired. 

“But the spell…” 

“James is right, we can practise more tomorrow, we’re not playing until next year anyway, we’ve got enough time to master it.” 

You sighed but nodded, not even attempting to move from the floor for a bit while James and Sirius batted the bludger over each other a couple of times. You took Sirius’ notebook out of your pocket and went over the spell again, recalling if perhaps you had missed some words on the incantation or maybe it was the execution that wasn’t working properly. So you went over the words, reading them in your head and practising the spell as many times as you could. 

“Hey Vix, let that go and come over, I need you to practise this,” James said when he noticed your overly concentrated stance. 

It took you a second to pull your gaze from the paper but you nodded, feeling thankful that you’d get a distraction and then guilty for feeling thankful over it. Either way you pocketed the notebook, grabbed one of the beater bats and mounted your broom, flying towards them. After a while of beating the iron ball with as much force as you could muster, and using exclusively your good arm, you felt a lot better. 

When you were done, you helped the boys with the equipment and walked alongside them all the way to the common room, where you parted ways to change into your respective uniforms. The entire day went by rather uneventfully, McGonagall had paired you with Remus on the transfiguration project and you were still going over crystal ball reading on divinations, although a bit boring, at least it was something you hadn’t any particular talents with. 

Although, and you didn’t want to think much about it, there was definitely something dark surrounding the Ravenclaw tower. You decided that maybe you’d ask Sybil about it later, she had been taking extra classes with Spellman, so she’d probably know if something was up. You considered asking Spellman directly, but you were scared he’d end up blowing it off proportion and decided to just pretend you had seen a field with colourful flowers. 

“What colour?” 

“All the colours,” you said, knowing that if you said a particular one he might end up finding a deeper meaning behind your lie. 

November 30th, 1976 

The following day, you also woke up in time for morning practice, this time around you managed to stay on the broom for longer, but fell either way, and James didn’t allow you to practise as much as the previous day since he wanted to focus on dodging that morning, which had ended up on a very fun practice. 

Sirius had almost gotten a bludger in the shoulder before you pulled him to the side and James barely managed to dodge one that had flown straight to his head. You were all laughing merrily by the time you were meant to go back to the dorms for breakfast. 

Once you reached the common room you spotted Remus on one of the couches and plopped beside him, Sirius doing the same on the other side. “Ugh, you’re both sweaty,” he complained. 

You pouted, “It’s magically cleaned,” you said dismissively as you sank a little deeper, neither you nor Sirius were actually sweaty since outside was so freezing cold. Well, perhaps just slightly. And Remus wasn’t bothered by you sitting next to him either, if anything, he loved it, he had to keep up appearances regardless. 

“The couch is, I’m not!” 

Sirius leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder, “Aww come on Moony, you’ll smell like your two favourite people all day. What’s there to complain about?” 

Remus almost pushed the boy off him when Prongs intervened, “What do you mean his two favourite people, where does that leave me?” 

Remus frowned at James, clearly interested in where the conversation was going, but it was Sirius who spoke, “On the armchair.”  

James gasped, “Yeah, I don’t think you’d fit in here,” you teased further, a tiny smile spreading on your lips while you pointed at the little space of couch there was left. Now, if you and Sirius had been sitting like normal people, and Remus hadn’t had his legs spread wide, perhaps you could’ve found a way to fit Prongs in, but none of you seemed interested in changing position. 

“I refuse to be left out!” he said with a frown. 

“So what? You’ll use engorgio on the couch?” 

“Too much trouble,” James said as he walked towards you and let himself fall on top of the three as if laying on the couch but using your legs instead. 

“Oi, watch where that elbow goes,” Sirius complained. 

“When was the last time you washed those?” you said with a frown as you stared at his murky-looking socks. 

“They get washed every day!” James complained, “That’s their original colour.” 

“No way in hell.” 

“No,” Remus said as he shook his head. “that really is their original colour, we’ve been teasing him about them since he got them.” 

You leaned over to look at James’ face, it was lying on top of Sirius’ legs “Why did you keep them?” 

James went red, and Sirius responded, “Lily gave them to him, last Christmas I believe.” 

“Yeah,” James said proudly. “They arrived at my house by owl mail. She even wrote a note that said they reminded her of me.” 

You threw a side glance at Remus, clearly seeing the irony in Lily’s note, that seemed to completely slip past James, back then and even now. 

“We’ve got potions,” you sighed, leaning back just a little and allowing James to accommodate his feet better. They were a bit heavy, but at least they weren’t crashing against any bruises. 

“Thought you liked potions,” Sirius said. 

“I like hanging out with Rem at potions, but the potion we’re working on is so tedious I swear you need to add another gram of something new every couple of minutes.” 

“At least it hasn’t blown up on your face,” James said with a shrug, remembering the way it had exploded on Tom the previous class, and Tom was actually good at potions. Thought, perhaps he had been a little distracted that day.

“We could skip…” Sirius offered. 

“No, we can’t!” Remus said, “She’s lost enough classes with last week’s drama!” He then turned to you. “And don’t you dare leave me alone with the veritaserum!” 

You took a deep breath and nodded “I wasn’t thinking of skipping,” you defended. “I was merely informing.” 

“James Fleamont Potter!” You heard Lily’s reprimanding voice from the stairs. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

James seemed a little confused, leaning up just a little to try and spot the redhead, “uh… Resting?” 

“On top of your two freshly injured friends?!” 

Both you and Remus started a chorus of “I’m fine” and “Oh… It’s okay Lily, I’m healed now, it doesn’t hurt anymore” but she took none of it. Walking all the way to the couch and forcing James to roll off of it. He fell on the floor and turned, looking at the kneeling figure with his charming little smile, like she was the only witch in the world. 

You could tell Lily was fazed by it, especially when a little bit of red started to spread over her cheeks, you smiled, raising an eyebrow towards Remus who clearly had noticed too. 

“Enough of that!” She told him with a slap on the arm. “Let’s get some breakfast, you must all be starving.” 

“I second that,” you said with a nod. 

“Yeah, me too,” Remus agreed. 

“Hungry beasts, that’s the kind of people I surround myself with,” Sirius joked. 

“If anyone’s a hungry beast here Sirius…” you started and threw him a look that had him gasp “Anyway… breakfast.” 

All of you stood up and started walking towards the Great Hall, Peter was fast to catch up with you and Lily told you the girls were already there. Breakfast was as delicious as always, and you were so hungry you even took an extra slice of toast with jam and peanut butter to munch on on your way to potions. 

“Pass me the Stewed Mandrake Root, would you? Sweetheart?” Remus asked as he stared at the cauldron with a bit of a frown.

“We’ve already added that,” you responded, leaning forward to look as well, the potion was a weird murky brown colour, not the mossy green that the book described it would be. “Did we measure wrong?” 

“Maybe we spun it the wrong way around?” Remus said, just as puzzled as you, “You measured that one, you never measure wrong.”  

“Yeah, I checked twice,” you agreed, that was something you had learned from Remus near the beginning of the year. And you were especially careful with longer and more tedious potions like this one. 

You saw Snape snigger from the side as he stared at your cauldron, and you were about to flip him off with two fingers when Remus placed a hand over your forearm and gave you a look. You gave him a reproachful stare in response but he just raised an eyebrow at you and tilted his head a little. You huffed in response but held back the insults you had in store for Snivelus. You understood why Remus did it, getting in petty fights with the Slytherins had already gotten you almost killed once.  

You sighed and went back to look at your potion, suddenly remembering, “There’s a troubleshooting guide at the end of each chapter, perhaps we can find something there?” you suggested and the two of you went straight to look through the book. 

“I think… the only thing that could’ve happened is someone sabotaging the potion…” Remus said with a frown, “If we had added too much of any ingredient the result would be different colours. It would be red with too much Mandrake root, blue if we had undercooked the Syrup of Hellebore, and purple if it were because of the Bicorn Horn powder, but none of these mention brown.” 

You bit your lip as you analysed the situation and looked around, if someone had actually sabotaged your potion, you’d have to figure out exactly what they had used to do it, to attempt and revert it, if it was even possible.

You started looking at people’s tables and the ingredients they had placed on them, Alison Prewet and Archie McMillan had a few ingredients that didn’t go in the recipe but neither of them was particularly good at potions so you couldn’t be sure it had been them.

Tim Klum also had some suspicious-looking ingredients, but by his nervous stance and recent rash, you assumed he was trying to brew something to counter it instead of sabotaging anyone else. Besides, you had barely crossed words with him, and you were certain he didn’t have anything against Remus, regardless you wrote down all the ingredients he had on his stable, identifying them by texture and looks. 

Then you spotted something mysterious by Sirius’ table. Of course, Sirius would never sabotage you or Rem, but Severus? You wouldn’t put it past him, he could be a jealous little snake, although he had never done such a thing, and you weren’t sure why he would be sabotaging you now, the fact that he had Shivelfig, which was normally used for draught of living dеath made no sense. Unless he wanted to steal it for himself that is. 

You turned to Remus “I have a hunch of who might have done it,” you mumbled, almost inaudibly, but he heard, and you knew he’d be able to hear it. He gave you an attentive look, “But I want to test my theory before we make a mistake.” 

“What do you need?” 

“Just a bit of someone else’s potion, that’s at the same stage as ours.” 

Remus nodded, “I can do that, you?” 

“I’ll get some Shivelfig.” 

Both you and Remus nodded as you looked attentively at the other, he grabbed a small vial and started walking towards James and Lilly while you walked towards Sirius’ table. 

“Hi Pups,” you said with a smile. 

“Sod off,” Snape said when he spotted you. 

“You do it.” 

“This is my table.” 

“Argh, c'est un idiot, comment tu le supportes?” You asked, looking at your boyfriend.

“I’m intelligent enough to know you’re calling me an idiot,” Severus said impassively.

"Très bien, casse-toi alors."

Sirius laughed at your crassness and Severus just rolled his eyes, not understanding what you said but figuring out you were either telling him to fuck off or piss off, which wasn’t that far from the real thing. “How come you’ve come to visit, Kit?” Sirius asked. 

“Missed you,” you said simply, Sirius saw the mischievous smile you gave him and knew instantly you were up to something. 

“Aww, you did?” he asked as he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you slightly closer to him, Slughorn was near the back of the classroom helping some Slytherins with a fire they had accidentally caused, which was enough distraction for you to be able to be all over Sirius at that moment. 

“Oh, please, I’m going to puke…” Severus said as he rolled his eyes and turned to the side. 

You forced yourself to hold back a laugh, Sirius, whose back was turned to Severus, and who had the least serious face you’d ever seen, wasn’t helping. “Devrions-nous lui donner un spectacle?” You asked in a low voice, trying to make it sound like you were flirting rather than just asking Sirius if you should annoy Severus further. 

Sirius bit his lip, looking at you with a small frown before nodding, “Mh-hum,” he replied before leaning in to give you a kiss. 

“Ugh please, we’re in class!”

“Go be jealous elsewhere, Snivelus,” Sirius pulled himself from the kiss just for a second to say that, going back and deepening the kiss a second after. Severus looked at the two of you in disbelief and then back at Slughorn, but he was way too busy with the fire in the back. Who would have thought adding a little bit of dragon breath to the potion would cause such a complicated mess? 

You deepened the kiss, pushing Sirius back just a little and his back crashed against Snape’s shoulder, Snape pushed back and Sirius had to tighten his grip on you so you wouldn’t fall. You could feel he was about to laugh because of Severus’ reaction and you squeezed his arm just a little to get him to focus and he did, even let out a small, rather performative grunt, just to piss Severus further. 

Severus was about ready to go get the teacher, or a prefect, or someone to get you to stop snogging in front of his face when you leaned in again, this time pushing Sirius’ arm strategically so it pushed their leftover Syrup of Hellebore, it wouldn’t do any harm to him since it had been cooked, but it would make his uniform stink after a couple of hours, and you knew he knew about it. 

“Ugh!” he complained, “You pair of dimwitted animals!” 

You pulled back from the kiss, just to give him a side glance, looking only mildly apologetic “Oops, sorry…” 

Snape gave you a disgusted glance and stood up. “I’m off to clean this up, Black,” he glared at the boy, Sirius turned to him with an uninterested glance. “Please, for the sake of our passing grade, make sure our potion stays boiling at a steady temperature while I’m gone.” 

“Sure Snivelus, I’ll make sure,” Sirius said with a rather indifferent shrug just to piss Severus off a bit more. Severus gave him an untrustful glance, but stood up and left. While he was leaving you went back to kissing, which seemed to piss Severus off even further, which made both you and Sirius smile in the kiss, you were half still kissing, half using each other’s mouths to hold back a laugh. 

When you finally stopped, Sirius was biting his lip to hold back a grin while you were looking at him with lips pursed, still trying to hold back a laugh. 

Sirius cleared his throat “Now that the crow’s gone, would you care telling me why you’re really here?” 

“What? Kissing you passionately in the middle of class is no good excuse?” 

Sirius raised his eyebrow “Oh no, I think it’s an excellent excuse, but I’m waaay more likely to use it than you are.” 

You gave him a small smile, “I think Severus might have sabotaged my potion,” you admitted, “and I think he used this,” you took a hold of the jar with Shivelfig , “to do it.” 

“We should ruin his potion then,” Sirius said instantly. You gave him a look, he raised an eyebrow “What?” 

“Sirius, he’s your partner. If we ruin his potion…” 

Sirius frowned, “Well, it’s not fair if he gets out scot-free.” 

“Remus and I are trying to fix it.” 

“And you can do it?” 

You shrugged, “If he really did use shivelfig, we could try and find a way to counter its effect, or at least neutralise it.” 

“So you came to get some.” 

You nodded, “The kisses were a great bonus though.” 

“I can give you many more bonuses, darling,” he said and leaned in again, but you felt a hand on your shoulder and turned around to see who was there, thankfully, it wasn’t Slughorn.  

“You got that?” Remus asked. 

“Yeah,” you said as you pulled a small flask with shivelfig from your cloak.

“Hold up! When did you even…?” Sirius asked, confused. 

“I’m a girl of many talents,” you told him with a wink. “See you around, Puppy!” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and walked back to your table alongside Remus. “You got the potion?” You asked Remus, who seemed tense for some reason. He had seen the whole thing happen, and his head had started going haywire with so many thoughts running through his head.

“Yeah,” he responded, “James and Lily.” 

Once you were both on your table, he poured half of his little flask on a crystal vase and you used a pair of tweezers to add the tiniest bit of shivelfig to the potion. Nothing happened and you frowned. “Maybe it wasn’t Snivelus in the end…” 

“No wait,” Remus said, placing a hand on your forearm and taking a small stick, sipping it in the flask and turning clockwise three times, the potion turned the same murky brown as yours in an instant. 

“Remus, that’s brilliant!” you said with a smile “The potion didn’t go brown until we spun it, and Severus probably knew, he could have added the shivelfig a while ago, that way we wouldn’t have noticed, and we would have just assumed we did something wrong.” 

Remus nodded, “He’s an asshole, but he’s a competent one.” 

“So now we know what he used, how do we neutralise it?”

“I’m not sure,” Remus said as he bit his lip. 

“Sopophorous bean?” you asked. “Isn’t it used on draught of living dеath to neutralise the shivelfig’s poisonous nature?” 

Remus shook his head “Yeah, but combined with Mandrake Root it can be dеadly, our veritaserum would end up being Baneberry Potion instead.” 

“Shit, you’re right,” you said almost in a whisper. You frowned, racking your brain trying to find a solution only for it to clash against the rest of the ingredients. Your face started to fall when you started running out of ideas. No matter how much you thought about it, it seemed like there was no solution, which left you dejected since even if you had figured out exactly how they had sabotaged you, you wouldn’t be able to fix it.

“I might have an idea,” Remus said then, he had the same face he made when he was focused on a task, preparing a complicated potion or working on the details of a plan, it was that of absolute concentration. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his lips pressed tightly against the other, causing one of his scars to move along with his mouth. He looked cute. 

“Wait… really? How?”

“I’ll go get some Moonstone… Do you have the charms book with you?” He asked. 

“We… don’t have charms today…” you said. You used to carry it around all the time but after your shoulder wound carrying as little as possible was a lot more manageable, even with the floating spell you had placed on your bag. 

“It’s fine, it’s somewhere in my bag, look for it, will you? Find the magnetism spell.”  

“The magnetism…” you started with a slightly questioning look and then gasped. “Remus, that’s… has it even been tested before?”

Remus shrugged in response, “It’s either that or we do it over. Besides, we could test it with this,” he said as he pointed at the little vial that you had used to see if it really had been shivelfig what they had used to ruin your potion. He then leaned down and placed his bag –that he had carelessly thrown on the floor– on the table right in front of you. “Just be careful, there’s an extending spell inside so I can keep all my stuff. Might take you a while to find it,” he added right before he walked towards the ingredients cabinet. 

He hadn’t been exaggerating, his bag was absolutely filled with things. You dug inside and could feel several books, you pulled them out, one by one, he had some books for classes, some library books that had gone overdue, the copy of The Godfather he had been reading you and Sirius, the copy you had given him of The Portrait of Dorian Grey when you discovered he was a Werewolf. 

You’d told him he could keep it one time he mentioned he wanted to get a copy to annotate, which made you wonder if he had annotated the sides and you opened it, you had written some notes on the pages, notes he hadn’t erased, writing around the edges and under your own handwriting. And on ink, it was absolutely clear who had written what, and he’d even responded to some of the things you had annotated. You smiled, you’d have to ask him to borrow it to you one day, just so you could see what he wrote. 

As you flipped the pages, something called your attention. Sirius’ name was written on one of the corners of the book, you frowned and looked at the page, there were a few highlighted quotes here and there, but there was something about Sybil calling Dorian prince charming and you chuckled. Yeah, you too would have considered Sirius a Prince Charming. You closed the book and placed it back on his bag, completely missing how Sirius’ name repeated over and over through the pages, how your name was doodled alongside his too. 

How in one of the quotes from Basil, he had pointed out that Basil was just like him, fallen in love with the impossible, but that Basil had been lucky enough to only find one of those people rather than two, how miserable would Basil be if he had loved not only Dorian, but Sybil too? Perhaps half as miserable as Remus felt sometimes. 

You continued to rummage through Remus’ bag, and you felt a small plastic bag, you assumed it was chocolate and took a hold of some of them out to ask him for one when he came back, you knew he would say yes anyway, but when you pulled your hand out, you were met with a strip of condoms instead.  You quickly put them back in, trying not to think of the fact that they were size L or the fact that he had so many of them. Does he not know about the potion? No, he definitely knows about the potion, I mentioned it at the Quidditch party. You swallowed thickly, you were sure you had flushed at least a little when you felt a hand on your back. 

“You found it?” Remus asked. You were startled, and had to cough a couple of times to compose, Remus felt a lot taller to you at that minute, as if the size of the… nevermind, erase that thought, erase that thought. 

“No, I– you keep a lot of stuff in your bag, Rem.”

“You didn’t find anything weird, did you?” 

“Weird?!” you were sure your voice had gone an octave higher by that point. “No,” you coughed again, “Nothing.”

He looked at you as if he wasn’t convinced, “Cause if you did it was probably Sirius’ he leaves a lot of stuff in my bag.” 

The idea of them being Sirius’ instead of Remus’ made you gulp, you were sure your cheeks would warm if you didn’t change the subject immediately, so that’s exactly what you did, “Found the moonstone?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “back pocket,” he added as he dug his hand through his bag, “On the left, my left,” he added then, “where you’re standing.” 

“Oi! I know where the left is!” you argued as you went for it. 

“You didn’t know last time.” 

“Though we settled on the fact that I just wanted to grab your ass.” 

He chuckled, “You really can’t lose, can you?”

“I jumped off my broom to get the snitch, what did you expect?” 

Finally, he pulled out the book, one of the condoms falling on the floor. He looked at it, and then at you, you were also looking at it “That’s…” 

“I know what that is,” you said. “Spent last summer on muggle London, remember?” It had been pretty hard to forget the safe sex campaigns all over the bus stops near the biggest schools as you walked past them. And of course you, being naturally curious, had gone and read all the details they offered. At least you had learned a few things in the end.  

“Alice gave them to me,” he said as he leaned down and grabbed it, placing it back in his bag as fast as possible. 

Remus seemed genuinely flustered about it, which is why you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him. “Oh, so you’re definitely having fun,” you said with a teasing smile. 

“What?! That’s–” 

“Hey! I don’t judge,” you added with a shrug, “I told you when I found your stash.” 

“That wasn’t–” 

“It’s fine Rem,” you said as you placed a hand on his arm. “You deserve to relax every now and then, if anything, you should use them up before they go bad… Although you do know the potion exists, right?” 

“Please stop,” Remus said as he placed both hands over his face and leaned down on the table. He was flustered over you insinuating such things, more because he always thought about you when he did them with Alice than because you insisted on teasing him about her. If only you knew, heck, you would probably break off your friendship with him. As if anything Remus did would make that happen. 

You only laughed and placed a hand on his back “All right big boy,” you didn’t say that on purpose, but it did make you think back on the size of the… no. “Back to the potion…”

“Yes,” Remus stood, the flush on his cheeks fading away slightly. Although the bits of red still made him look adorable, you almost wanted to get a picture of it. And then you wondered what he would look like if he were looking at a person he liked, little did you know that was exactly what he was doing. 

All the while, Remus was flipping through the pages. “Here!” he said and pointed at the page, leaning closer to you so you could see the book, “So… the idea is to use the spell on the moonstone, but somehow make it attract just the shivelfig.”

“We could do it by combining it with a locating spell?” 

“It was my idea too, but… how?”

“Hold up,” you said as you pulled a parchment from your bag, he pulled the quill closer to your hand and you dipped it in some ink before drawing some runes inside a small triangle. It looked a lot like what the muggles thought whichcraft looked like, and it was a little archaic, inexperienced wizards would say it was dark arts -it wasn’t- and regardless, it was still the easiest way to combine spells. 

“Are you drawing a Nimueh diagram?” 

You nodded, and he stared as you continued to add symbols and runes and lines around your paper. Once it was done you placed the stone on top. “You’re better with location spells, how about you say that one and I go for the magnetism one?” 

“Have you ever done it?” 

You shook your head “But I haven’t done a location spell either, you have,” you added with a shrug. 

“Okay, let’s do this,” Remus said with a nod and offered his hand. You gently placed your hand over his and gave it a soft squeeze. “In three… two… one…” 

Little did you know that while you chanted the spell, and almost with the whole previous interaction, Sirius had been looking at the two of you with absolute fascination. At the incredible team you made, at how cute Remus looked flushed and at how much fun you seemed to have around him, teasing him.  It was in those genuine, carefree smiles that you managed to pull out of his best friend, your best friend too, he remembered. It was in the chuckles he pulled out of you, in the way you moved around the table to get the ingredients, in the way you grabbed your parchment and he passed you a quill. 

Sirius was so enthralled by the two of you that he didn’t notice Severus returning to his sit right next to him, “I told you to check on the potion you stu-” 

Sirius turned around to look at the boy, annoyed. “The potion’s fine,” he said carelessly. “No one messed around with it while you were gone. Vix would never stump as low as that.” He said that last bit with venom, looking straight at Severus who narrowed his eyes. There was no way Sirius could’ve known, and yet…

“Do you think it’ll work?” You asked Remus, you had just finished chanting the spells, your hands sliding off each other a little too fast for his taste and the moonstone -that shone as you infused it with magic- seemed to be slowly fading into its natural state. 

“There’s only one way to know,” Remus said as he took the small milky stone and dropped it straight onto your cauldron. You peered in, and slowly, the murky water took back the mossy green colour it should have had initially. Both you and Remus smiled relieved. 

“You did it!” you said almost jumping in joy, placing your hand over his arm and squeezing lightly, “You’re absolutely fantastic!” 

 Remus turned to you, his expression mirroring your own, “We did it,” he remarked “It was a team effort, you guessed what they’d used to sabotage us.” 

You were both smiling brightly at each other when Professor Slughorn approached the two of you, “Are you finished with your potion?” he asked, “You seem rather thrilled.”  

“We had a bit of a setback,” you admitted, “but we’ve managed to fix it, the veritaserum should be finished before the class.” 

“A setback? Of what kind?” 

“We got sabotaged, Professor,” Remus explained. 

“Outrageous! Who would dare do such a thing, to such brilliant students?” 

You were about to speak but Remus intervened “We do not know, but (Y/N) managed to figure out what they had used shivelfig, we used the knowledge for a spell on the moonstone and magnetised the unrequired ingredient to it.” 

You gave Remus a look but decided to follow along, whatever reason he had not to rat Snape out, must have been good. You used your wand to pull the moonstone out of your cauldron, it was no longer white and seemed to be covered with a murky slippery substance. The shivelfig clearly had reacted with some of the other ingredients. You levitated it closer to your face to give it a look before letting it fall back down on the table. 

“And you used a Nimueh diagram so that the shivelfig would adhere to the moonstone, clever!” He said as he pulled out the paper from the table and inspected it. He could see it was your handwriting, which is why he looked at you when he said it.

“Thank you, sir,” you responded, “But it was a team effort.” 

He turned back to Remus as if just remembering he was there too, you narrowed your eyes at him, “Of course, of course,” he said dismissively, which pissed you off a little bit too much. “Please stay after class is over, I need to have a word with you.” 

You looked at him, frown deepening but nodded. “Of course, Professor.” 

“Excellent, so.. get on with it. I want to see how your potion comes out in the end,” And with that, he was gone, off to talk to some other students. 

“The hell was he going on about?” 

“It’s probably about the slug party,” Remus said with a shrug. 

“The what?” 

“His exclusive Christmas dinner, he only invites the best students.” 

“You must have gone several times then,” you concluded. 

Remus tensed, “No. Never been invited.” 

You turned to him with a frown, “What but that doesn’t–”

 You were cut off by James, “You done, kids?” 

“Almost,” Remus said, you passed him the last ingredient you had to measure and he placed it on the cauldron, stirring the potion three times to the right, finally the colour was transparent. 

“You think it worked?” 

You shrugged, “Only one way to find out,” you said as you grabbed a pipette, dipping it in the liquid and placing your finger on the hole at the top, moving it to your mouth and releasing your finger, allowing just a drop to fall on your mouth. You didn’t want the effect to last overly long. “Go on then, ask me something.” 

“How many fingers do I have up?” James asked, raising his hand. 

“Six,” you responded, “that was a stupid question, Prongs.” 

James gasped at your reply “Rude.” 

“What did you get on your transfiguration mock quiz?” Remus asked with a teasing smirk.

You groaned, not wanting to respond to this one. “I got a Dreadful,” you said, despite yourself.

“Wait, really?! Is that why you wouldn’t show it to me?” James asked as he leaned a little closer to the two of you.

You nodded, “I couldn’t transform the pot into a swan, I made something close to a chicken.” 

“Close to a chicken?” James pressed.

“That was actually a dreadful animal,” you replied, trying to find a bit of humour in the situation. 

“Well, our trickery worked, the potion’s great,” Remus said pleased as he pulled out a vial to place it in and hand it over to be graded. Pulling out a tag he had previously prepared and lacing some string on it to attach it to the top of the potion. It had “Veritasetum” and then both of your names at the bottom. All in a perfectly elegant-looking handwriting, he’d used caligraphicus to make it extra neat. He always did like the way your names looked beside each other. 

You pulled a flask from your bag and also served some inside. “In case it comes in handy,” you told the boys, who both looked at you with rather impressed expressions as you placed it back inside your bag, now filled. 

Lily called for James and it was you and Remus alone again, he leaned over, you might be pissed after what he was about to do, “Hey little witch,” he said softly. You were cleaning things around but turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. “Are you really not scared of me?” 

You gave him a look, something between a frown and a comprehensive sigh. You took the pipette and let a few other drops fall in your mouth, more than you had done initially, “In case you thought that perhaps it had already worn off,” you said. “And no, Remus, I’m not scared of you, or Moony for that matter.” The boy seemed apprehensive, “Must I drink the entire cauldron for you to believe me?” 

Remus sighed, a relieved chuckle escaped from his mouth. He knew you weren’t, you had been reassuring enough at the infirmary when you cuddled him as Vixen, but he needed to make sure. To make sure you weren’t lying just for his sake like he had discussed with Sirius the night before the prank. He smiled, diverted and decided to tease further, “So you definitely still want to be friends?” 

You smiled. “Best friends,” you replied, “You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.” 

“I have, it didn’t work, remember?” You hummed in response. And then he looked at your shoulder, biting his lip, the next question might actually piss you off, “Does it still hurt?” 

You thought your answer through, “Less than before,” you replied eventually, it was true.

“But it does hurt.” 

“Yes.”

“How much?” 

You looked at the side, not wanting to answer, closing your eyes and sighing when you realised you wouldn’t be able to hold back. “I don’t know, like getting clawed at by a huge wolf, I suppose?” 

“Do you resent me?” 

You frowned. “Of course not! And I don’t resent Moony either, before you ask,” you said that last bit with an accusing finger towards him.

“And the fall?” 

“More scary than painful.” 

“Scarier than me?” 

“You’re not scary!” You turned to him. 

“Scarier than Moony?” he corrected. 

“Yes.” There was silence. “The water monster… it was… nothing like Moony, frightening, hungry, unreasonable. Moony’s different, he– you are beautiful.” 

There it was again, you calling him beautiful, you kept doing that over and over, and he thought it was just your protective nature, you wanting him to feel better about it, but with veritaserum, it was impossible to lie. Remus cleared his throat, looking to the side as he felt a flush going up his neck and you smiled, pushing him just a little. “Now stop asking me questions that make me sound all sappy!” 

“Does it bother you?” 

“Does it bother you?” 

“That’s not an answer.” 

“Told you to stop making me sound sappy, how would you feel I had you drink some and ask you questions?” 

“I never had you drink anything!” he replied, offended. 

“Right, you only took advantage of the fact that I had drunk it to ask your silly questions.” 

“They were legitimate.” 

“Most of them I had already answered Remus.” 

“Only half answered,” he corrected. “You’ve said time and time again that you were fine.” 

“I AM fine!” And that was true, again, you couldn’t lie. Did everything hurt? Yes. But other than that, other than the pain, other than the soreness, you were perfectly fine. 

“And you truly believe it,” Remus said, surprised. 

You smiled and pushed him again “No more questions,” you warned with a smile on your face. 

“And here I was thinking of asking you if Sirius was good in bed,” Remus joked.

“I wouldn’t know,” you said before you could stop yourself. 

Remus looked at you surprised, “You mean you haven’t–” 

“That’s none of your business Moony,” you said as you started to flush. “We said no more questions.”

“Oh, but you’re always teasing me about things like this,” he said as he poked your arm with a sneaky little smile. “So you really never have?” 

“Remus!” You reprimanded again and then sighed. “No, have not. We haven’t gotten there yet, okay? We’ve been busy with other things, if you can tell. Now do I have to go into details for you to stop it or…” 

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry.” 

You huffed, “you’re too curious for your own good.” 

You were right in more than one way. “If that isn't the cauldron calling the kettle black.” 

You smiled and shoved him to the side again, he enjoyed the feeling of your hand on his shoulder, he was wondering how much he could tease you before you actually got pissed at him when the bell rang. 

“I’ll take this to him and see what he wants,” you said as you grabbed the potion you’d finished. 

“I’ll tell Nightshade why you’re going to be late,” he said as he placed the rest of his books in his bag, “I’ll take your bag too,” he said as he picked it up from the floor.

You frowned, “I can take my own bag, Moony.” 

“I know, but it still hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked as he pointed at your shoulder. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, he knew you’d have to tell him the truth still, you had taken more drops than you needed, you huffed out a “Yes” as you rolled your eyes, “But I’m perfectly capable of–” 

“I know, and I don’t care,” he interrupted as he slung your bag on his shoulder. “I made that,” he said as he pointed at your shoulder, “Now I carry your bag.” 

You scoffed, now diverted at your friend’s resolution more than anything, you were about to say something when Sirius shouted from the door, “You coming Moons, Starshine?” 

“You fill him up, yeah?” You asked Remus just before you gave Sirius a wink, he blew you a flirty kiss in response. 

Remus nodded when you turned back to him, and you gave up on fighting for your bag, after one last sight. “See you in class,” you told him with a wave and walked straight to talk to Slughorn, potion in hand.

“You’ve demonstrated to be a remarkable student the few months that you have been here darling.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“And not only in potions, you were brilliant at the Quidditch game and I’ve heard good things from Professor Bins and Seraphina. Flitwick also speaks highly of you.” 

You tilted your head slightly, a small “hum” escaping your lips, you were sure  Slughorn wasn’t done with whatever he was about to say. 

“And you’ve demonstrated time and time again to me that you are more than well-trained on potions.” 

“It’s only been thanks to my pairing with Remus.” 

“Ah… yes, your pairing with Mr. Lupin,” he said. “The way you switched the papers was undoubtedly clever.” 

You gasped, “You realised?” 

He just smiled, as if it had been obvious, “I picked the partners for everyone, of course, I knew. I just wasn’t sure how you’d managed to outmagic my spell. All at Potter’s request, I believe. He must have convinced you, that boy has been madly in love with Miss Evans for a while now.” 

“But you didn’t say anything then.” 

“If you had been smart enough to switch my charms, I assumed you’d be able to cope with Remus’ speed at potion making.” 

“So you know he’s good.” 

“Of course, Remus has always been remarkable.” 

“Then why has he never been invited to the–” 

“So you know why you’re here.” 

“He might have mentioned something like a Christmas dinner.” 

Slughorn nodded, “Yes, this is my cordial invitation to our dinner on the 20th of December. I know there’s still some time, but I thought you might want to know since you are always welcome to bring a guest along.” 

“Could I bring Remus?” 

“You may bring whomever you want.” 

“But why isn’t he invited?” you pressed. 

Slughorn gave you a look, you didn’t want to press too much, you had the suspicion it might have been due to bIood status, either that or Slughorn knew about his lycanthropy, either way, it just didn’t make sense to you that he wouldn’t invite Rem.

“For reasons that you are not and will not be aware of, I’m afraid,” he responded eventually. 

“But I could bring him as my guest?” 

“Yes, although I expected you to bring Mr. Black.” 

That got you to pull your head back just a little, you had been so defensive over Remus, you had forgotten that the most logical person for you to bring along would be your actual boyfriend. 

“Think about it,” Slughorn said with a small smile. “And tell me when you’ve made your choice. Now I don’t want to keep you for too long, it’s time to get to your next class.” 

You gave him a courteous nod and left. You’d have to talk to Sirius about this. 

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Read more Marauders Fiction

[amoreva]

FEIGNING FOR YA’

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CHAPTER 1

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: as a little childish act of rebellion, you try dating your friend, Luke Castellan, to really piss off your parents (for a actual real reason, not the small things they hate). what was supposed to be no strings attached turned into a little more than just childish revenge.

warnings: slow burn, college au, smau, fake dating to dating, cursing, clarisse x chris, aged up! pjo charcters, yn is older sister figure to percy, luke and thalia are older sibling figures to annabeth

a/n: i have re-written this one too many times and am still in the process of revising and proofreading to give you guys the best condition of the start of this fic series! So sorry for the delay!

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“Are we still friends?”

“What?”

“Can we be friends?”

“After all of this?”

“After all of this.”

It would be a disastrously great story to tell your grandkids (if you had grandkids). Quite embarrassing really, telling someone about how naive and oblivious you were (still are.)

It was spring. The flowers in full bloom. Allergies spreading like wildfire due to pollen. Thankfully, it was raining cats and dogs, so no stuffy noses tonight. You decided to come back from your hometown two days before spring break ended. As much as you were homesick after spending so long at college, your family made you feel homesick for college.

It was torturous. Questions and questions about your college life were thrown at you left and right. From potentially having a significant other to your major that you were taking to who you were friends with to being disappointed in your college major to asking about your grades to being disappointed you party to just being disappointed.

All in all, truly you loved your family. Really, you do. Your aunt made great pastries. Your dad a great cook. Your uncle made really funny (bad.) jokes. Yet, they found some way to critic your every decision and move you make. You hated it.

Your shoes squeaked on tiled stairs. Lugging up your suitcase, you just prayed you didn’t fall. The tiles were wet because people’s shoes were wet. You did not want to pay a hospital bill after barely paying for college.

By the time you got to your dorm, you were already half asleep, running on an overpriced yogurt parfait from the airport. The soft comforter of your bed calling out to you like a siren’s song.

You were lulling off to dreamscape when a loud ominous creak filled the silence. “C’mon. You gotta be better than that. Lock your doors.” Luke’s “charming” voice replaced your peace. “Some creep could waltz in and kidnap you in your sleep.”

“Supposed you’re that creep?”

Luke has been attached to your hip since highschool, freshman year. Both of you have suffered through each other’s numerous cringy phases (only to bring them up for the annual birthday post on instagram).

He was one of the friends your parents despise. They always ranted about how they’ve been a bad influence to you since highschool.

“Depends.” The bed dipped under his weight. “Do you think you look okay enough to go out?”

“I guess, but I feel disgusting.” You answered. Confusion swimming through your mind. Where was Luke going with this?

“Are you upset because of a recent event?”

“Kinda.”

“Upset enough to stay holed up the whole evening?” Luke rephrased.

“No.”

“Okay.” Decision.

You heard his windbreaker swish as his arms wrapped around your waist. “Luke!” Like a bag of potatoes you were tossed over his shoulder. “You fucking—!”

He grabbed what he was originally came in your dorm for and exited. Silena, Chris and Clarisse were waiting for Luke and now, you. “Welcome back!” Silena said, masking her shock.

No one knew you were coming back home early and Luke wasn’t surprised. As much as you wanted to stay in your dorm and sleep, you were glad to be with your friends.

The restaurant was loud and lively. The rain ceasing. College students were celebrating their final few days before classes started up again. The occasional drunks here to watch the multiple football games going on. Your friend group chose to celebrate.

The dim lighting was a stark contrast to the bright TVs that played various football and soccer games. Drinks slid down the bar into the awaiting consumer’s hand. Alcohol got everyone in a better mood during the night (though the same cannot be said the morning after).

A waiter placed down the five shots Luke had ordered, in toast of your unexpected return and the final days of spring break. The shot glasses made a tiny clink before the liquid burned your throat. It left a warm feeling in your chest.

Silena and Clarisse went to take photos via Chris the cameraman. The three went out to the porch of the restaurant bar. You opted out and Luke stayed with you. You weren’t exactly in the nicest clothes.

Another round of shots were placed on the table. Luke ran his fingers through his curls and checked his phone. “What’s bothering you?” He asked.

“What?” You tore your gaze from the two girls and looked at Luke.

“You said you were upset about something, but not too upset to not go out.” Luke explained. “Better to get it off your shoulders than to bottle it up.”

You roll your eyes at his last sentence and sat up in the cushioned restaurant chair. “Family.” Luke laughed a little at that. He’s known how perfect your family wants you to be.

You shove your face into your hands as if you were reliving the reunion all over again. “I didn’t even do anything bad or get in serious trouble this time!”

Luke nodded along slowly, taking in your every word. You can’t tell what he’s thinking as you continue on your little rant. Yet his face shifts as you rant.

“Why are your grades like that?”

“I saw your Instagram post. Drinking? Really?”

You parrot some of the questions your family said to you, with their fake smiles and judgmental eyes. You were old enough to drink! “And then they started talking my ear off about you all. Clarisse! Thalia, you—Silena and Chris” The list goes on. Luke knows it. You know it.

“Why are you friends with that temperamental girl? Lord knows the trouble you’ll be roped into with her.” You mocked your parents, aunts and uncles’ words. “I don’t like how that Thalia girl. Too rebellious, disrespectful too!”

“That one girl is an airhead. Head in the clouds.”

“Don’t get me started on that Luke boy again.”

“Get better friends.”

“Maybe you hang out with a different group.”

“They piss me off! And well maybe they’re concerned about my wellbeing, but—they keep harping me about everything little thing I do.” You groaned and rubbed your eyes exhausted. “Which is why I came back early.”

“So piss them off.” Like that was the hardest thing you do. You unintentionally trigger their judgmental side without even trying.

“What?”

“It’s what I do to my dad. I piss him off most of the time when he tries to come back.” Luke shrugged. “If they hate all of us so much. Date one of us, shit—date me, you’ve known me the longest. I think they’d be pretty pissed about you dating a bad influence.”

“That’s so childish.” You commented, but it was good, but it could work. Rebellion never hurt anyone that bad. Well, maybe your aunt will have a “heart attack”, but it should be fine.

And you were out of options to try and get your family off your back.

So the next afternoon, when Clarisse was out, Luke and you sat on your bed and conjured up a contract for this temporary relationship; a day before break was over.

“I don’t see why we need a contract.” Luke sipped on a juicebox. The sunlight providing a nice atmosphere in your dorm room.

“I saw it work on a show I watched kinda.” You whispered the word “kinda” under your breath. It was a long time since you’ve seen the show.

Luke raised an eyebrow and set the empty juice box on your desk. “So…uh—terms and conditions.” You typed out on a Google doc in big bolded letters. How do you start this?

“We could “date” from now until the start of summer? I think that is a long enough rebellion.” You suggested and looked at Luke. “I have to go back home for Easter and my little sister’s birthday, but then I have that family trip in summer…”

“Sure.” Luke agreed.

You looked at him silently asking him to elaborate. “From now until that family trip is over. I’ll go to Easter, the birthday and the trip.”

“You aren’t trying to mooch off me for the trip are you?”

Luke slid the computer to him and typed out the first terms and conditions. He ignored your question with a smile and a shake of his head. “You have to come with me when it’s Mother’s Day though.”

You agreed to that relatively quickly. Your mom and dad were always out of town that day. “I’m fine with kissing on the cheek and forehead and holding hands, if you are?”

“What? No lips?” Luke teased with a grin.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet.” You muttered in embarrassment.

“Fine, no lips.” You were slightly surprised Luke didn’t tease you for not having your first kiss yet. He typed it on the computer. “And no sex.”

“No sex.” You agreed. “And we cannot let the others know. They’ll start talking and then it’ll get to my family somehow—”

“Okay…no sex and no talking about the fake relationship.” Luke chucked and typed it on the computer. “This seems good enough for a contract right?” He still thinks the contract is stupid.

You smack his shoulder. “This is serious, Luke! If I wanna piss of my parents I have to do it right.”

“Okay, sweetie.” He spoke sarcastically and typed his name at the end of the document. You did the same. “But there is no right way to piss off someone. You just do.”

After signing the temporary dating contract, Luke and you talked about the story of how you got together.

Luke and you supposedly have had some unrequited feelings during highschool. Both of you began talking over spring break after a drunk conversation and decided to give dating a shot.

Then, there was the fact that Luke and you had to announce the relationship. So, social media it was. Which prompted you to grab his hand. “Where are we going?” Luke asked as he was dragged off your bed.

“A cafe.” You held his hand, fingers lacing together. “I’m hungry after all that and it would be great publicity if we went out holding hands.”

“Whatever you say.” Luke rolled his eyes, though he didn’t mean it. “Then I guess I’ll be the good boyfriend and pay.”

“Really?” You asked and looked back at him.

He shrugged. “Why not.”

Luke and you held hands and talked about whatever came to mind. Like you usually did as bestfriends. He opened the cafe door for you and paid for your food and drink.

Maybe “dating” Luke won’t be the worst thing ever. Rebelling doesn’t seem to be all that bad now. Maybe everything will turn out fine. You rebel against your perfect family and Luke will get a free trip as a reward. Yeah, you’re sure things will turn out okay. Maybe.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

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@happy-mushrooms @m00ng4z3r

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Bedeviled | FINAL- Chapter 15b: Morior Invictus

warnings for this part: strong language, strong religious themes throughout, confusion, anxiety, JK is struggling help him, blood, mentions of torture, physical pain, heartbreak, despair, grief, loss, pls kindly let me know if I left anything out ty

WC part 2: 15.7k

read 15a first...HERE

JK sits a few feet from where you lay, biting the nail on his thumb as he glances at you every once in a while before looking back out of the mouth of the cave you’re in. 

He isn’t sure how long it takes for you to begin stirring, face scrunched in pain as you once again become all too aware of the state your body is in. 

Your face looks sickly, but there’s still a soft warm inner glow in your skin that he begins to realize has been there the entire time, he just never bothered to notice it. 

He was too distracted figuring out ways to trick you into giving him your soul before you even reached the Flame, to save himself some time. 

To keep moving up the ranks..

JK’s gaze is on a bloody stone sitting just outside the opening, when he hears your weak voice. 

“You came back.”

He turns his head to see you still lying where he placed you, but this time your eyes are open and looking at him. Fresh tears linger there, waiting to fall. 

The look you’re giving him makes a pit form in his stomach so he breaks eye contact and looks at the stained rock again, not responding to you.

“Where are we?”

“The fifth circle,” he mumbles, still refusing to look at you.

You blink slowly, feeling the ticklish tears slide down your cheeks as you gaze at him. 

Despite the effort behind them, your next words crack as they fall from your chapped lips, “Why did you come back?”

It takes a moment and he still doesn’t look at you, but he answers.

“I don’t know.”

A tiny smile spreads on your face as your gaze runs up and down his form sitting against the rocky wall, long legs bent in front of him. 

“I do.”

That finally makes him turn to look at you, confusion written all over his handsome face. 

“Why?” He whispers. 

Your reply is so soft he almost doesn’t hear you. 

“Because you love me.”

His eyes lock on yours, unable to look away for a moment. Then he tears his gaze from yours and back outside. 

“I told you that I don’t. I don’t know why you-”

“You told me that you can’t.” You correct him gently, watching carefully as he swallows and lets out a small breath. 

“You’re an angel.” The way he says it is tinged with disgust. It doesn’t surprise you, but it does hurt, “I’m a demon.”

Silence falls between you for a few long moments. 

Then he finally looks at you without darting his gaze away seconds later. There’s a hard look in his eyes, “What the hell did you think was going to happen?”

JK watches your eyes fill with tears again and chest stutter as you take an unsteady breath. 

“I need you to trust me,” you whisper, bottom lip trembling slightly before you bite it. 

His brows furrow. 

“I already know you’re an angel, I know your secret. What is the point in trying to fool me now?”

“I’m not, I’m trying- I-…I wasn’t always an angel.”

JK takes a deep breath and shakes his head as if to clear it, then he looks back out of the opening in the mountain, “You angels speak in riddles, just like Him.”

You open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off. 

“We can’t stay here long, we need to keep moving or-”

Struggling to sit up, you watch him carefully, your brow creased in worry, “Or what?”

He glances at you briefly before clearing his throat, “Nothing- be careful.”

You smile at the way he flinches to get up when he sees you moving into a sitting position. Then a pained hiss leaves your lips when one of the small stones that surrounds you digs into one of the several deep gashes on your palm. 

“Are you okay?”

You look up to see him walking over to crouch by you. 

“You look like shit,” he mutters as he takes your hand to look at the fresh blood oozing from the cut. 

You can’t help but stare at him as he inspects your palm closely, mumbling something about the stone getting in it and how he’ll need to get it out. 

“It’s going to hurt,” JK whispers before gently removing the stone. 

At your lack of reaction to the undoubtedly painful process, he looks up to see you much closer than he thought. There’s a tiny smile on your face but a sadness in your eyes as you look at him like a pet you found after losing it years ago.

You lean a little closer until your noses are only a few inches apart. 

Despite the dirt and blood on your face, the rattiness of your hair, and the pain radiating from you, your eyes are shining as they look into his. There’s an elegance about you that equally terrifies and intrigues him. 

“Why?” He asks quietly. 

“Why what?” 

You watch his gaze drift along your broken body, the gashes and burns that decorate you, “Why didn’t you let me help? I could’ve made it easier for you.”

The look you give him is one he doesn’t understand. 

You lean forward and whisper softly, “It was never meant to be easy.”

He watches as you blink slowly, clearly exhausted. You lean back again, your eyes full of a deep sadness.

“You weren’t always a demon, JK.”

His dark brown eyes look between yours a few times, trying to figure out what it is you’re saying. 

A strained sigh leaves his mouth but he doesn’t back away. He shakes his head slowly, “Stop messing with me, I’m not stupid. I chose-”

“To trade your life for someone else’s.”

You see his eyes water a little in confusion before he blinks it away. 

“Why are you saying this?”

“Because it’s true,” your voice breaks. 

“It’s not, and I don’t understand why you-”

“Please just listen to me-”

“Why should I?” He snaps, “You’re an angel and a liar. Not to mention the last soul down here I’d ever trust.”

When the hurt is evident in your expression at his harsh tone and choice of words, his eyes fall to the ground between you and he gulps. 

“I’m not a liar,” you say quietly, voice full of hurt, “I just didn’t admit that I’m an angel.”

“So everything else is true? You’re here for the Flame then.”

You bite your lip, then after a moment of silence you whisper, “No. That I did make up.”

JK scoffs and backs up a little so he isn’t so close to you. 

“You’re the one that lied to me,” your voice gains a little more strength and you lean forward with furrowed brows, “You acted like you were going to keep up your end of the bargain but all you could really think about was deceiving me in any other way you could.”

He doesn’t look at you but you see him gulp. 

“All you cared about was taking my soul,” your voice cracks due to the previous torture you endured. You can feel the energy steadily draining from you, “You never actually planned on getting me out of here-”

“That’s not fucking true,” he hisses, leaning in and glaring at you as he finally snaps, “I offered to let you go. I got your ass through Hell and don’t you dare say I didn’t. You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me.”

His dark eyes flicker between your own. It takes him by surprise when he doesn’t see the irritation there that he expected to. Instead, there’s something that looks almost like relief. 

He swallows thickly when he sees your eyes drift from his down to his lips. 

There’s a faint smile on your lips when he glances down at them briefly before looking back up. 

“You’re right,” you whisper under your breath softly, “Thank you.”

Your faces are only inches apart, you can feel his cold breath fanning over your cheeks. 

“You look exhausted,” JK sighs, changing the subject. 

You shake your head with a tiny smile. 

“No more than usual.”

He knows you’re joking, but he can’t find it in himself to laugh. Even aside from the torment your body went through, he can tell that this exhaustion is something entirely different. 

An angel in Hell is against all rules of nature. 

“You should get some sleep.”

You shake your head again even as your eyes blink slower from the drowsiness that won’t let up. The faint smile on your lips doesn’t fade as you gaze at him with something he can’t decipher in your eyes. 

Saying nothing, you watch as his brows furrow a bit when something occurs to him. 

“You’re an angel…” he says quietly, almost to himself.

When he doesn’t say anything more and begins to look a little lost in thought, you hum gently to encourage him to continue. 

“...shouldn’t you hate me?” He finally finishes, looking back into your eyes. 

You stare at each other for a moment, then you lean in just a little closer, until your noses are a few inches apart. 

“Do you think I hate you?”

He gnaws on his bottom lip a little before answering, “I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

The demon tries to look away but is stopped by a gentle hand on his cheek. 

Instead of answering, he takes your hand in his and brings it down so that he can look at it. You watch the anger flit over his face as he scans the cuts and burn marks littering your skin. 

He mumbles something that you don’t catch, so you lean down a little to get closer. 

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry,” he says it louder this time, his voice cracking a bit at the end. 

Your heart aches deeply in your chest and you fight the tears building up as you watch him have an internal battle with whatever else is going through his brain. 

“You came back…”  It’s answer enough for his unexpected apology. 

Then you ask softly when he seems distracted, “What’s going on in your mind?”

He chuckles breathlessly, “They never shut up.”

“Who?”

It’s almost like he doesn’t want to look at you as he says it, as if he’s ashamed. He keeps his gaze from yours when he mumbles, “The souls.”

A fresh wave of tears comes over you and this time you can’t hold them back. They trickle down your cheeks silently. 

He must always hear them, whispering their desires to fall. Begging one of the demons to come along and grant them any wish for one simple thing in return. 

“Most of them don’t know what it is they’re doing,” JK mumbles, “And some of them don’t care.”

“How so?” You choke out. 

You know the answer, but you’re curious as to what he has to say, considering his role in these things. 

“They play games, open doors they shouldn’t, mock the existence of all of us,” he’s staring at a dirty smudge on your torn skirt, “Most of them don’t understand, that if they go looking for us, we will find them.”

You’ve seen first hand the chaos and disaster that ignorance can bring, so you don’t disagree. 

He’s right. 

“And you can hear them?” You ask, “All the time?”

“It never stops.”

“That sounds pretty horrible.”

He swallows, then you see him shift back into that other state, the one where he doesn’t care. 

“Not nearly as bad as being a miserable little puppet and bending to someone’s every will-”

“I’m not a puppet.”

He looks up at you at the strong tone of your voice. 

“I am lucky that I ended up where I did and I would not change it for anything.”

JK squints at you, “Seriously?”

“I’m loved, and happy, and safe up there. I’ve never been forced into anything, I chose every second of it.”

You brush a strand of black hair from his face with your finger. 

“Out of the two of us, I think we both know who the miserable one really is.”

JK gulps at your words. 

“I can help you,” you whisper, “I can make them be quiet.”

You see his dark eyes flicker up to yours quickly. 

“What?” His breathless question matches the bewilderment on his handsome face. 

You nod, excitement clear in your shining eyes.

“I can help, if you’ll let me.”

“H-...how?”

“You need to trust me,” you give him a look, “Do you trust me?”

It takes a few seconds, then he finally nods slowly. 

Before he has a moment to realize what you’re doing, you move forward and peck his forehead ever so softly before pulling back. 

By the time he’s registered that you just kissed him, he’s also realized that his mind has become terrifyingly silent. 

You feel a spark of warmth in your chest at the look in his eyes. 

“Better?” You ask after a few moments. 

When he looks at you, you think you see tears in his eyes, but he blinks them away quickly. 

“I-...I don’t…”

“Don’t hear anything?” You finish for him and he nods. 

His chest tightens painfully at the smile on your face that is positively radiating with joy.

It confuses him. 

You look joyful…for him.

His eyes go from your face and drag along your form, taking in the damage for the hundredth time. Blood is dried and caked along most of your skin, the gashes still oozing bright red. He can’t see your mutilated wings from where he sits, they’re tucked behind you, but he has already seen them more than enough for him to stomach. Your hair is tangled and dirty, dark bags sit under your eyes.

There’s a slight tremble in your whole body that seems involuntary. Even as you shiver while clutching his silk shirt to your otherwise exposed chest, your eyes are still shining with relief and excitement for him being free of something that’s tormented him endlessly. 

You watch in confusion but don’t protest as he reaches for the black shirt covering the front of you. 

His eyes stay locked on yours as he gently takes it from your hold. 

He doesn’t so much as glance from your gaze to look at your naked form as he brings it around your shoulders to put it on you properly. You let him slip it over your arms and bring it together in the front to button it up slowly. 

He always wore it with at least three buttons undone, but he closes them all the way up for you, his dark eyes still staring straight into yours even when he’s finished. 

The demon’s hands linger on the last button after doing it up as he stares at you. After a few long seconds he brings them down, looking at the ground before you see him swallow. 

Your eyes flicker between his when he looks at you again.

“They asked me things,” you whisper, breaking the dead silence. 

You watch his dark brows furrow and the anger cloud behind his eyes once more, “What do you mean?”

“They wanted to know why you mattered so much to me.”

JK’s eyes dart away from yours and he nibbles his bottom lip nervously at your candid words. 

You don’t look away from him, just continue to watch him as he seems to try and figure out what to say to that. 

Finally, he mumbles lowly, making you lean closer to hear him. 

“And? What did you tell them?”

Your response is soft, “I told them I only asked you to lead me because you were the first demon I stumbled upon.”

You aren’t sure what you expected his response to be, but the way his face falls the slightest bit takes you by surprise anyway. 

He doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes locked on the ground as he nods slowly and sucks on his teeth a little. 

What did he expect you to say? 

A dark chuckle slips past his lips quietly, and he shakes his head to himself. 

“I guess you were right.”

He looks at you at your soft spoken words.

You lean in closer, but he doesn’t move away. 

Even when you get so close your noses almost touch, he doesn’t budge. 

“Maybe I am a liar.”

The next breath gets stuck in his lungs and he gulps. 

“What do you mean?” He finally chokes out. 

The tiny smile on your lips makes his heart skip a beat and he finally pulls away just a little. 

“I couldn’t tell them the truth,” you mumble, “They would’ve hurt you more than they had already planned.”

An anxious huff of air leaves him and he looks away from you, “Why-” he gulps, “Why would you care what happens to me? Why did you go back? Why didn’t you just run? You could’ve called your pathetic angel friends to save you. There has to be another way for you to save your stupid little best friend-”

“JK-”

“Is that not why you’re here? Or was that a lie too?”

“It wasn’t a lie,” you respond quietly. 

“I fucking knew it,” he says under his breath, shaking his head and pushing his tongue into his cheek, “The one fucking thing that had to be true-”

“Can you just let me speak?” Your voice shakes. 

After a few tense moments of silence, he nods, but doesn’t look at you. 

“Just think for a second,” you whisper, “Why would I let them hurt me instead of you? Why should I care about a random demon in Hell?”

The demon’s look turns from silent irritation into one of disbelief as he glances at you briefly. It’s clear that he doesn’t believe you, but the realization of what you're saying is clear on his face. 

“JK….”

He shakes his head, but is too confused to speak. 

“You love me, Jungkook-” your voice breaks with emotion. 

Clearing your throat, you correct yourself quietly, but loud enough for him to hear, “You loved me…once.”

When his eyes meet yours, you can see the complete and utter bewilderment and fear there. 

You reach a hand out, but he flinches away, still staring at you in wide-eyed horror.

His chest moves up and down rapidly and he finally rips his gaze from yours. 

Your words make no sense.

Nothing makes sense. 

He chose this life. 

His existence started when He made him, and he refused to be His little puppet. That’s why he’s here, that was all his own decision. You were created by Him and said yes to serving Him for all your sad immortal existence, you’ve always been an angel, that was your decision.

He never knew you and he certainly never loved you.

“I-”

Your eyes are full of sympathy as his voice breaks and he moves further away. 

“Jungkook-”

“Stop calling me that,” he chokes out as he stands up.

“I’m sorry,” you reach for him, “Wait, please. Let me help you, I can help you remember.”

His panicked and disgusted look doesn’t change as he stares at you. 

“Please,” you whisper, holding your hand out to him, “Please…just trust me.”

JK is fighting every single instinct to turn and run, to get as far away from you as possible as he stands there and heaves in breath after breath. 

“…trust me.”

You can see the gears turning in his mind as he stares at your hand. 

Finally, he takes your shaky hand with his own trembling one and lets you gently pull him to sit again. 

“I know you’re scared,” you say gently, never letting go of his hand. 

JK shakes his head, but can’t seem to meet your gaze. 

“I’m not scared.”

You smile softly at him despite him not even looking at you, “Ok.”

Silence stretches between the two of you for almost a minute, then you ever so gently squeeze his hand to get his attention. 

He finally looks at you to see you smiling sweetly at him, your eyes still shining and still a stark contrast compared to your messy appearance. 

You scoot forward a little until you’re closer to him and leaning in. 

He’s fighting every instinct inside of him right now. There isn’t a single thing about this situation that is normal to him in any way. 

The way your gaze drifts between his eyes and lips is enough to have his heart racing and stomach twisting. 

He doesn’t know why there’s such a deep desire inside of him to close the distance between you. He knows what will happen when he does and that terrifies him. It doesn’t stop him though, from leaning closer after you’ve stopped. 

You let your eyes close as he places his mouth against yours timidly at first, then the kiss slowly becomes more desperate. 

The feeling of his cold hand sliding ever so gently up your arm and then the back of your neck to move and cup your jaw sends chills shooting down your spine. 

JK squeezes his eyes shut tightly when the images start flooding into his brain without hesitation. 

The bright sun and gentle breeze are painful, but he doesn’t pull away. 

The sound of laughter and taste of something sticky and sweet is overwhelming, but he doesn’t stop. 

He can see the girl again, running ahead of him through the lush forest. 

JK’s brows furrow as he deepens the kiss; anxious, for some reason, to pull you even closer than you already are. 

The child breaks through a small hedge moments before he follows and stumbles into a small clearing with an apple tree sitting tall and strong. A swing hangs from one of its branches, moving gently in the wind. 

The girl grabs it and is about to climb on, but she stops before doing so. 

Then she turns to him and steps away from the swing, “You go first! I’ll push you!”

All he can do is watch through his own eyes without a say in his physical actions while he takes a seat on the swing and is soon going higher and higher. 

“Look up!”

He does so at the high-pitched request. 

There’s a bright blue sky with a few puffy white clouds above him. 

A bright shimmer closes in all around his vision until the scene is gone and he’s pulling away from your lips. 

“Are you okay?” You mumble, eyes drifting over his face.

He doesn’t speak but gives a small nod.

After he takes a few breaths, you’re about to offer to give him a break, but he leans in before you can, cupping your jaw and pulling you into another kiss. 

Cold rain and the thick sweet scent of roses fills his senses.

“If either of us finds a way, we have to try. Deal?”

Those same voices that he heard in the seventh circle whisper faintly in a dark corner, barely audible as they echo around before fading away entirely. 

“Ok, deal…” 

“JK- hey look at me.”

He opens his eyes to see you scanning his face, concern clear on your own. 

“Are you oka-”

“Who are you?” He whispers, cutting you off as his voice breaks. 

Your expression softens and he watches silently as you smile gently at him, “Is that really the question you want me to answer?”

It takes him a moment, but he finally locks his gaze with yours. His next question is asked so softly, just a quiet breath, that you barely hear it.

“...who am I?”

You touch his cheek with careful fingers, warm and soft.

“Jungkook.”

His brows knit together and you can see the wheels turning in his head, just not going anywhere. 

“You’re Jungkook,” you lean a little closer and drop your voice to below a whisper, “And you don’t belong here.”

“I- don’t understand.”

“That’s okay,” you assure him gently, “You will, I promise. I’ll help you remember everything-”

“No.”

Your face falls and you pull back. 

“What?”

“I don’t want to remember it,” his voice has turned hard again, “So don’t bother.”

When he stands up, you reach out and grab his wrist, “Jungkook, wait-”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“But-”

“We don’t have time for this. Can you manage?” He gestures to your form sitting on the floor of the cave. After a few seconds to gather your mind, you nod slowly. 

“Then we need to go.”

It takes every ounce of willpower for you not to burst into frustrated tears. 

You waited so long to be able to help him remember. You wanted to open his mind more before showing him, because you knew he would shut it down like he’s doing right now. You don’t know how to get him to stop freaking out and let you help though. 

You look up and see him holding a hand out to you. You take it and let him help you stand. 

It doesn’t come as a surprise when you fumble and nearly fall over again. 

JK wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady as you sway on your feet. 

“I’m okay,” you mumble, feeling consciousness slipping from you due to the agonizing pain that shoots through your body at the attempt to walk. 

“Don’t push yourself- stop-” JK holds your arms close to your chest when you try to fight him off to move on your own, “Really? This is what you’re going to be stubborn about?”

You nod, head bobbing up and down as a yawn slips from you, “I c-can walk.”

“Like hell you can walk,” he mutters, shaking his head. 

You wince as the pain spreads the longer you stand there, even though at this point he’s holding all of your weight. 

“Just let me carry you-”

“You said- you w-” you clear your throat, “You said you weren’t going to drag my ass through hell. You said that.”

JK’s eyes widen and he scoffs in amusement at hearing you curse for the first time. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” he whispers, a smirk playing on his lips, “I won’t be dragging you anywhere.”

You nod sleepily, still trying to stay fully conscious when your body is trying its best to go under; to do anything not to feel the pain rushing through it. 

“Look at me,” he says gently. 

You shake your head, a small frown gracing your features. 

He chuckles quietly and touches your cheek, “I know you’re mad, but just look at me.” 

You finally do, squinting at him. 

“Before I pass out,” you slur almost incoherently before he can say anything. 

He looks down at your movement, seeing you pull something out from where it was tucked into the makeshift bandage on your wrist from so long ago, when he first hurt you. 

It’s some sort of cloth that you hold tightly in your fist, biting your lip. 

“I almost lost it,” you mumble. 

He knows what you mean by that, as sick as it makes him. 

When you were caught, you must have known they were going to strip you down to torture and humiliate you as much as they could. You must have tucked whatever this is into the bandage as a last act of desperation to keep it hidden. It was pure luck that they didn’t bother ridding you of the bandage before chaining your wrists. 

You got it out of the chest in the shack and kept it successfully hidden until then, you weren’t about to let them ruin one of your last chances to prove it to him.

“What is it?” He asks gently as you press the cloth into his hand. 

“It was a gift,” you whisper faintly, and he can tell you’re about to pass out. 

Your eyes flutter closed and the rest of your body weight slumps to the side, making him tighten his hold on you so that you don’t fall over. 

As he holds you upright, he glances down at the handkerchief in his hand, his heart stopping in his chest when he sees the messily embroidered initials in the corner. 

JK. 

________________

The next time you find yourself waking up, there’s a gentle rocking sensation that almost lulls you right back into sleep. 

You fight it though and force yourself to open your eyes in a squint to take in your surroundings. It’s a forest that he’s walking through and you’re on his back, head lying on his shoulder as his hands hold your calves to keep your legs wrapped around his waist. Your arms are dangling uselessly over his shoulders and down by his chest. Your wings droop behind you, still aching terribly, but the blood has long since dried.

“Where are we?” You mumble, voice cracking. 

“Still in the fifth circle,” he says back quietly, but doesn’t slow his pace, “How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay,” you whisper, pulling your sore arms to hug yourself closer to him. 

His breath hitches for a second, but he keeps his composure. 

“We’re about to reach the river.”

You sigh and lay your head down on his shoulder, “Are you going to leave me to get across by myself?”

You hear him scoff gently. 

“You wouldn’t make it ten feet, darling.”

You smile to yourself, no longer minding the pet names he uses with you and probably any and every other soul he’s come into contact with. 

He isn’t whispering it into your ear softly for only you to hear as you drift to sleep, he’s not breathing it against your lips when he doesn’t want to pull away, he isn’t even saying it with a tinge of annoyance after an argument when he’s assuring you that he still loves you.

But at least it’s something.

“You’re crying.”

You reach up a hand and wipe at your eyes, “I’m not.”

“Liar.”

The way he whispers that word makes your heart tear in two.

He feels your arms tighten around him and you place your lips close to his neck but don’t touch him. Your warm breath fans across his icy skin and he feels a chill run down his spine. 

“I’m going to miss you,” you whisper, your voice low and thick with tears. 

He’s about to ask what it is you mean, but before he can, he’s stepping out of the forest and into the open where the river is not far ahead, the bloody sinners tearing at each other relentlessly as they have done for many years and will continue to do for the rest of eternity.

You lift your head to look, but only briefly, then you put your face back into his neck to hide from the horror in the only way you can think of. 

The feeling of him walking again makes your stomach turn. Despite not seeing anything, the sounds of rage and brutal violence still ring in your head. 

He must be able to keep them from approaching you, because as far as you can tell, he’s just walking straight through the bloody massacre and none of the sinners have noticed.

It doesn’t take long to get to the other side going straight through, but it’s long enough to make you sick from the sounds that surround you. 

JK steps off the river and you feel him carefully hike you up a little on his back from you slipping unconsciously. 

“Thanks,” you mumble sleepily.

This horrible exhaustion is really killing you, it’s hard to keep your eyes open for more than a minute. You would never have made it far without him. 

“I’m not angry,” you say softly, eyes closed and head still resting on his shoulder. 

“Hm?”

“We’re in the fifth circle,” you take a shuddering breath, “but I’m not angry. I’m not even annoyed.”

“That’s good,” JK hums softly as he walks over logs and rocks strewn about the forest floor. 

“Mhm.”

__________________

You once again blink into consciousness, your mind spinning with confusion. 

After blinking a few more times, you see a multitude of blurry colors a few feet in front of you. Another few seconds goes by before you realize you’re lying down on hard stone. 

Rubbing your eyes, you watch the colors start to come into focus before you can see that it’s quite literally a pile of treasure; gems and gold glittering in the light temptingly. 

Good thing you have no desire for riches. 

You sit up slowly, taking notice of the sinners rolling their giant boulders back and forth without acknowledging your presence. 

The fourth circle. 

“JK?” You look around, but don’t see him anywhere. 

Your eyes land on the statue standing guard over the treasure, in the middle of the dilapidated temple you’re in.

The figure of the crouching naked old man still gives you the creeps. 

He’s definitely looking at you.

“J-”

“You called?”

You gasp and turn to see the demon walking over to you, a small smile on his tired face. 

“You scared me,” you whisper as he crouches next to you. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” his eyes scan your figure, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you rub your eyes and yawn, the strange deep exhaustion no less than it’s been. When he gives you a look you clear your throat, “Really.”

A few seconds pass as you look at him. 

He’s still as handsome and flawless as always, apart from the fatigue you can see that has begun to weigh him down. 

“Are you okay?” 

JK nods, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” You press a little more.

His expression softens at your worried tone. When he lifts a hand to brush some hair from your face, you gulp, heart melting in your chest at the gesture. 

“I’m not the one that was tortured for sport, little angel.”

A lump forms in your throat at the memory of what was done to him, and for so so much longer.

You reach up and take his hand, holding it in yours and noting how cold it is. 

His hands used to be so warm against your skin, running up and down the length of your arms and legs and cupping your face to pull you in for a kiss. He would never hesitate to cuddle you into his chest and lift your night dress to put his hands under it and rest them on your abdomen while you were having painful cramps each month, the comforting heat from his touch soothing the ache.

Being unable to pull him into your chest and never let go is beyond the measure of grief. 

You want to warm him, keep him close until all of the fears and pain have been erased. You want to look in his eyes and tell him how much you’ve missed him, hear him whisper the words back as he envelopes you in a warm hug. 

“I’m sorry.”

JK’s brows furrow at your sudden apology. 

“Wh-”

“I’m sorry I left first.”

He watches your eyes well up with tears, not knowing what it is you mean.

“Please,” you choke out, only one tear falling, “Please just let me give you everything, please-”

He shakes his head and moves to stand, but you grab his wrist, more tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I can help you,” you cry softly, looking desperately into his dark brown eyes.

The demon crouches again, letting you keep a hold on his wrist.

“I don’t want it,” he says gently.

“Please,” sobs are falling from your lips, chest shaking with each one as you keep a grip on his wrist.

“Hey,” he calls you softly, cupping your cheek so that you’ll look at him, “hey.”

You can’t see very well due to the tears clouding your vision, but you do your best to look at him anyway.

“I can’t, Apple.”

“Why not?” You whimper quietly, fighting the sleep that’s tugging on you relentlessly. 

His eyes shift between yours.

“If I remember, I’ll never be able to let you go.”

“Let me go?” Teary confused eyes drift around his face. Your words slur as you blink slowly, “Wait…where are you taking me?” 

He wipes his thumbs under your eyes to dry them.

“Get some sleep.”

____________________

Several times you wake up, but you can’t register where you are or how long it’s been before you slip back into the fog of endless dreams and nightmares. 

The hundredth time you open your eyes, you see an orange glow surrounding you and feel a warmth that is trying its best to permeate the cold that has begun to settle in your bones. 

You swallow and blink harder a few times before you can see the source of the glow. 

A small fire.

Tears instantly choke you but you swallow them and clear your throat as you sit up, relieved that the exhaustion has taken a small step back for the time being.

The feeling of deja vu sweeps over you when you lift your gaze to see him lying on the other side of the fire; long legs stretched out in front of him as he messes with something in his fingers. 

You don’t make a sound, so he must have sensed your gaze, because his eyes drift from the small object over to where you’re looking at him from across the flames.

“Second circle?” You ask quietly and he nods. 

A small smile tugs at your lips. 

“Should I expect you to order me to crawl to your feet and worship you?”

He chuckles lowly and looks back at whatever he’s fiddling with. 

“Not unless you want to, little angel, but I won’t be placing my bets on that.”

You breathe a small laugh and look down at your hands, then start absentmindedly picking at the dried blood on your fingernails for a few quiet minutes. 

“So it was me, then?”

You look up at the sound of his deep voice and lock eyes with him, a request to clarify his question in your gaze. 

There isn’t even a hint of a smirk on his face as he speaks, “The one you gave yourself to.”

You blink a few times, letting the silence stretch on for a bit. 

Then you swallow, “Yes.”

“And you were the only and first I gave myself to? Back then.”

You raise your eyebrows and make a face, “Well, yes. Unless you lied to me, which I doubt, considering how much more of a catch I was than you-”

He laughs at your words and you feel your heart lift at the sound.

When the laughter dies down, you see his brows furrow as he gets lost in thought. 

After a minute he speaks up again, his voice so quiet you barely hear it over the crackling of the flames. 

“What was it like? The first time.”

Your eyes lift to see him looking at you. Once again, there is no smirk or playful glint in his eyes. He is not asking this just for the sake of lustful conversation, you can tell. He is just genuinely curious. 

“Well,” you shift so that you can lean back against the wall of the cave, “It was on our wedding night.”

He nods, but doesn’t speak to interrupt you. 

“It-” you drop your gaze to the fire even as he keeps his eyes locked on your face, watching all the different emotions run their course. 

The look in your eyes is faraway. 

You are not here, you are somewhere else, somewhere so very very far away.

There’s a soft look there and a gentle smile on your lips. 

“It was beautiful,” you finally say, voice barely above a whisper.

JK says nothing to break the sacred silence that has settled, he just watches your face. He watches the distant look of pure love slip away and slowly fade into one of deep sadness. 

A grief he does not understand. 

A grief he has begun to want to understand. 

“Can you show me?”

Your eyes fly to his, your next breath getting stuck.

“I thought you didn’t want to know,” you choke out. 

His eyes fall back to his hands, “I want to understand.”

You watch him with teary eyes as he stands up and walks around the fire to sit in front of you. 

The demon that led you through Hell and back leans closer, “Help me remember…please.”

It only takes a second for you to jolt out of your shock and nod slowly, “Ok.”

You sit up on your knees so that you’re a bit taller than him, your throat closing when you feel his hands rest gently on your hips and ever so slightly pull you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from falling into his gaze, those big brown eyes sucking you in and filling your lungs until you drown.

“If I give it to you, I give you everything.”

He stares into your eyes for a few moments longer before nodding in agreement. 

JK closes his eyes at the feeling of your hand caressing his cheek in a way only a lover would. 

Then he feels your lips press to his gently. 

You pull back almost immediately before moving back in and gliding your tongue along his bottom lip, pulling a heavy sigh from his lungs then once again diving deeper. 

He can hear the sound of his own heavy breathing, yours mixing in with it as the two bounce off the walls of solid rock. Then they slowly fade away. 

The walls of home glow with a warm orange light. 

You’re lying on the bed, hair falling past your shoulders as you snuggle into the blankets even as they don’t cover you. Giggles fall from your lips and his heart jumps in his chest at the sound. 

“What’re you doing?” Your sweet voice reaches his ears and he smiles as he walks over to stand by the bed you lie on in nothing but your night dress.

You get up on your knees and pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and touching your nose to his.

When you pull back, the candle’s golden glow dancing around the room reflects in your eyes as you look at him with a love so pure and so unconditional he knows not a single soul on this earth could ever be as lucky as him. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” Jungkook whispers, fingers brushing a messy strand of hair from your face. 

Your nose and eyes scrunch up the way they do when you make a silly joke. 

“You dropped an apple on my head. Right here,” you place a hand on top of your head and laugh quietly at the smile on his face. 

“Here?” He puts his own hand there, “Are you sure?”

“Mhm!”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, it still hurts.”

“Oh no,” Jungkook pats the spot gently before leaning forward and kissing your forehead, “I’m sorry, love.”

You pull him into a hug, “It’s okay, I forgave you a long time ago.”

He puts his arms around you and holds you close. 

If only he could pull you into him and share his body with yours so that you would never again feel pain. He would give you his breath, the muscles that help him to move, the very blood that flows through his veins. 

He would give you his own life.

The slight chill of your skin against his as you pull him onto you makes his heart break. You don’t get out much, can’t go long distances to get the blood circulating through your body.

Jungkook places his mouth against yours, his hot breath filling your lungs and warming you up from the inside out. 

He can feel you shivering in his arms, so he pulls the covers around you both before leaving warm openmouthed kisses down your chest. 

If you can’t breathe, he will breathe for you.

Soft sighs leave your mouth as he explores your body with gentle kisses and hands that leave a comforting heat behind wherever they touch.

If you can’t keep yourself warm, he will do it for you. 

The whisper of his name from your lips pulls him back and he brings his mouth to yours again.

If you can’t walk, he will carry you.

His chest is pressed against yours, so close you can feel his heartbeat as if it is your own. 

His dark eyes look into yours with so much love and adoration that you lose your breath. 

“I love you.” He whispers.

You see the tears sliding down his cheeks in the orange haze as he looks at you. 

This is the closest you will ever come to being one.

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

Jungkook feels his heart break just a little more as he takes in your sweet face, locking it into his memory so that he will never forget. He focuses on the feeling of his best friend’s heart against his chest, pounding steadily even as it grows weaker than his own. 

He pulls you closer still. 

If ever your heart fails to beat, you can have his.

__________

Everything comes back quickly after that; your first meeting, days and nights in the woods and village causing all sorts of mischief, your first kiss, finding out that you were sick and looking for a cure, seeing you again for the first time after you were healed, your pregnancy, losing the baby, everything. He even sees the sickness take hold, the things that happened in his absence. All up until the day he lost you. The memories stop when he’s curled up in a corner of the shack, three days after you left him. 

-

JK pulls away, his lips detaching from yours slowly as his breathing becomes a little less labored. 

He opens his eyes to see your face not far from his own, wide eyes curious as to what his reaction will be. 

“Jungkook?” You whisper gently, hopefully. 

His eyes flicker to yours but he doesn’t respond. 

There is no recognition there as he looks at you. 

Your heart shatters into a million pieces and he can see that on your face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. Silent tears drip down your cheeks.

“You don’t- you don’t remember? You didn’t see?”

“I saw.”

Your red teary eyes lock on his, begging to understand. 

“I know you came for the person you lost, but I’m not him.”

“What?” You whisper brokenly, beyond confused.

“He loved you, I could see it,” JK says gently, “And I’m sorry…but there is nothing left of that person, and I don’t love you.”

It feels like your heart is impaled, the breath being knocked violently from your lungs.

JK swallows the lump in his throat at the grief-stricken look on your face as you stare at him. 

“Maybe it’s best that I forgot,” he whispers, “It will never be worth the pain it caused by losing it. Why would I want to feel and remember whatever amazing thing He supposedly gave me only to remember the fact that He took it all back? It’s just what He does, and I want no part of it.”

“You don’t understand what you’re saying-”

“Think about it,” JK interrupts you, “What the hell kind of fucked up shit was that? He asked you to be good and punished you for it!”

“What?” You cry, not understanding. 

“The kid,” the demon’s voice has become bitter, filled with rage and resentment, “You helped that sick boy and fell ill because of it-”

“The boy didn’t make me sick.”

Your soft voice echoes off the walls of the cave.

JK stares at you for a moment, then he leans closer, “What the hell are you saying?”

“The child was not sick with typhoid,” your voice shakes and you keep your gaze on the wall behind him, “If he was he never would have woken up the next day. He was very sick, but not with what I caught.”

Silence weighs down on you for several long moments. Then he whispers darkly. 

“Then how did you get sick?”

“The water,” you say faintly, “Our main water source was dry and I consumed contaminated water from the well in the village-”

“Why didn’t the entire fucking village die, then?”

Your eyes finally find his; your hard stare not backing down from his cold one. 

“Why do you think?” You practically spit. 

Your question is met with nothing but enraged silence. 

“Why don’t you ask your leader?” You hiss, “Ask him why the ponds and river were dry, why I alone died from the water everyone drank, why he blamed it on the boy just to stir more anger and resentment into your heart. Why don’t you ask him?!”

JK’s mouth twists in rage. 

He doesn’t know the pain from what happened, he cannot remember the feeling of loving you and the grief of losing you, but that doesn’t stop him from being angry at the one that caused all of this. 

“I will ask him when you go to your Creator and ask why He abandoned me!! Why does He sit up there and play with us like dolls?! Why does He love to give and then take away, sitting back on His mighty throne and laughing at our agony because of it?!?”

You are about to snap back when an idea strikes you. 

He can’t even register what you’re doing before you sit up on your knees and grab his hands, holding them to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut as tight as you can.

“What the hell are you do-”

JK doesn’t finish his sentence before everything fades away, his sight, the feeling of your hands, the smells and sounds that once surrounded him. 

He is in nothing but pitch blackness. 

Then there’s a clear blue sky overhead, birds singing in the trees, and a soft breeze kissing his cheeks. 

He sees a small boy climbing an apple tree, his short legs and arms causing a bit of a challenge for him, but he manages. 

The child shimmies up one of the long branches and reaches for a bright red apple that hangs there enticingly. 

“You can get it, you’re almost there!” 

The voice belongs to a young teen boy that sits on a branch a few feet above the child’s head, his blue eyes that match the wings on his back and the toga on his body are shining with delight. Shiny blonde locks fall to the angel’s shoulders, not a hair out of place. 

A laugh bursts from his lips when the boy makes grabby hands at the shiny fruit. 

“Don’t make fun of me, Nehemiah!” The boy cries, but there’s a smile on his tiny pink lips as he reaches again.

The guardian angel beams with joy, then he flies over from his branch and grabs the apple, plucking it from the tree easily. 

“Here Kookie, catch!” He gently tosses the juicy red fruit to the small boy, who laughs and stretches his hands out. He almost catches it, but it slips from his fingers at the last second and plummets to the ground. 

Tiny Jungkook looks down to see that the apple has smacked another child on the head. He gasps and scurries down the tree as fast as he can to apologize. 

Nehemiah watches with his hands over his mouth to hold in the giggles. His eyes meet the dark green ones of another guardian angel before his excited laughter breaks free. 

-

There was never a friendship among angels and humans quite like theirs. Ever since the boy was born, he could see the angel that followed him everywhere and kept him safe. He learned his name and had complete and utter trust in him. 

As Jungkook grew, Nehemiah stayed the same. He had existed for many many years, yet never appeared any older than fifteen. 

When Jungkook reached the age of seven, Nehemiah realized with a sinking heart that the boy could no longer see him. He spoke to him sometimes, but that eventually faded away as well. The games and stories and laughter slowly fizzled out. 

Nehemiah caught Jungkook’s tiny arm when the child tripped over a stone lying in his path. He righted the three year old boy and laughed as he thanked the guardian angel before breaking into a run once more.

That was one of the angel’s most fondest memories, the one he would always bring to mind during the hardest of days. The blue angel never left his side though. 

He walked with Jungkook along the dirt paths and smelled the flowers the boy picked, sang along to the songs he hummed, and was quick to guide him to the dead rose bush that one frightening day at the river even though the boy couldn’t see him. 

It was not time for Jungkook to leave Earth yet, for he still had so much to do.

-

Nehemiah cried with Jungkook the day he found out about your disease. His heart was aching just as much as the boy’s; if not more from just seeing him in pain.

There were many attempts to soothe his human’s heart as he traveled searching for a cure, but Jungkook only ever slipped further and further away from him with each passing day. 

He could not hear his guardian angel’s voice anymore.

Nor did he want to.

---------

Nehemiah rejoiced loudly at the wedding and danced with Imelda to the pretty music that played, his bright grin never dimming. For that day was one of the most joyous he could remember, of course not nearly as joyous as the day Jungkook was conceived and he finally got to meet him in the womb after waiting for so long. 

_______________

Nehemiah wrung his hands anxiously as Jungkook tied the bundle of herbs together in front of the fire. 

“Jungkook please, please don’t do this. Go home to Apple,” his eyes stung with tears, “She’s alone, stop leaving her alone!”

He got no response. 

“Jungkook, listen to me! If you go home now, Aera will be conceived before long. You will lose her and yes you will lose Apple too, but I promise you that it will not be the end. You will be there for her during death, to hold and comfort her to ease the struggle of passage. Apple will not die in agony if you stop this and go home to her now.”

Jungkook stepped back and looked at the fire, the bundle of herbs becoming wet in his sweaty hand. 

Nehemiah flew in front of him and held his arms out to prevent him from tossing it in, “You will go with them soon, I promise! And we’ll all be happy together in Heaven, we really will!”

His heart sank at the way Jungkook looked right through him. 

There was no memory left of the guardian angel, not after despair had sunken in. 

The fire snapped and crackled when the herbs hit it and began to burn.

A cold breeze swept through the area and Nehemiah sighed deeply. 

Jungkook turned and came face to face with Lucifer. 

The Devil looked past the human boy’s shoulder briefly to see the young blue angel glaring daggers at him. 

He smirked and went back to business. 

Nehemiah tried, he tried his hardest, but Jungkook would not listen. 

_______________

The blue angel practically tackled the brown angel, Nasya, who joined him and Imelda the day that Aera was conceived. 

“Oh, you’re finally here, you’re finally here!!” He jumped up and down and cried tears of joy. 

Nasya smiled, “For a little while, Nehemiah. I will go back soon, with Aera.”

Nehemiah nodded solemnly, knowing the time would come but that sweet baby Aera would be happy in Heaven and would not suffer long in her passing. 

When the time came, Nehemiah cried all of his tears. He hugged Nasya, who cradled the infant Aera in her arms, before bidding them goodbye, then he was right beside Jungkook in his mother’s home. 

You laid on the bed, face drained of color and eyes drained of life as you stared out the window. Imelda was caressing your face gently and whispering words of comfort. 

Nehemiah laid his head on Jungkook’s shoulder and whispered his own words of strength and comfort. 

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” he whispered as a tear slid down his porcelain cheek, “It will hurt for a long time. You’ll be strong for Apple though, don’t worry. I know you're scared you aren't strong enough, but you won’t let her down, you will get through this and you will smile again. Aera is safe and happy, I promise, I promise.”

____________

Nehemiah couldn’t watch as Jungkook bid you goodbye.

He locked eyes with Imelda, who nodded sadly at him and waved after he called farewell to her, then he followed Jungkook and his mother as they left for their journey. 

-

The screams that ripped from Jungkook’s chest as Taehyung and Yoongi pulled your limp body from his arms broke Nehemiah’s heart into a thousand pieces. 

He knew you were okay, he knew you were no longer in pain and would soon be filled with joy beyond measure. 

But Jungkook did not know that. 

Nehemiah sat and cried with him for three days, never leaving his side. 

He knew Jungkook was dying, and he knew what would happen when he did; what he would need to do to protect him.

-

The guardian angel stood his ground, sword held out and ready to strike any and every miserable wretch that tried to come close to his human. 

Jungkook was curled up in the corner of the shack and staring at the dead roses that had spilled from the vase, his breath slowing down and becoming more labored with each inhale and exhale. 

He was fading. 

Nehemiah locked eyes with the first demon to approach. 

“You will not touch him,” he whispered, sword pointed at the demon’s gnarled chest.

The creature howled with delight and moved to get around the angel, but Nehemiah was faster. He swung his sword and sliced clean through the demon’s stomach, causing it to recoil and screech in fury before fleeing. 

The young angel took a deep breath and backed up to be closer to his boy, ready to defend him until the end. 

Many demons came that day, and Nehemiah held off every single one on his own. They came at him in swarms and he was beaten and torn at for hours, but he did not back down. 

The demons could not reach the soul they came to claim. There was an angel between them and their prize, and he would not let them pass. 

Nehemiah struck at demons left and right, his cheeks tinted with the slightest pink at the exertion.

That’s when he heard it. 

Jungkook’s last breath; the final beat of his broken heart. 

Then he was gone. 

Nehemiah turned slowly and saw Lucifer standing there, a smug smirk on the demon’s despicable face. 

The guardian angel dropped his sword and walked over to his closest friend, his heart breaking more with each step. He was not seen, but that didn’t stop him from sitting beside his boy and wrapping his arms around him.

He laid his head on Jungkook’s shoulder and wept. He heard Lucifer speaking and did his best to talk over him but to no avail. Jungkook was never going to listen. 

The broken mortal closed his eyes and did his best to conjure up an image of you. 

Nehemiah hugged him tight and whispered to him as he used to when Jungkook was little and wanted a bedtime story, when he would tell stories of a place so beautiful it couldn’t be imagined. Where they would be together someday. 

“Apple is somewhere safe and warm, where the sun kisses her cheeks and dances upon her fingers. Somewhere the apples are sweet and crisp, where the water is never too cold.”

He heard Jungkook grimacing at the sting of the image being scratched into his bicep. 

“Look at how ruined you are,” the Devil whispered with shameless glee, “All because of love.”

Nehemiah wiped Jungkook’s damp cheeks gently, feeling him slip further away. 

“She is somewhere she can fly with the clouds, never alone.”

Lucifer locked eyes with the guardian and glared with undeniable hatred.

The angel did not back away from the harsh stare, he looked right back at the blasphemous traitor as he whispered to his most beloved human that would soon be taken from him. 

“Somewhere the roses will always bloom.”

_____________________

You open your eyes to see JK’s shut tightly, his cheeks damp with silent tears. 

He takes a shuddering breath, his chest shaking a little when he blows it out slowly. 

You say nothing, not wanting to risk him shutting down again. 

It takes a few minutes, then you finally see him blink open his eyes, a stray tear trickling down. He pulls his hands out of yours and touches his fingers to his wet cheek, confusion written all over his face. It appears as though he’s forgotten what it’s like to cry. 

The silence stretches on in the small dark cave, only the soft sound of crackling flames reaches your ears. 

The pretty boy in front of you looks lost in thought, his eyes still squinted in confusion as he slowly wipes the remnants of tears off of his skin. 

There’s nothing you can think to say to fill the void.

JK finishes drying his face, trying his best not to dwell on the uncomfortable foreign feeling that overtook him momentarily. Only seconds before, he had been yelling about how he had been abandoned, only to see the strangest images of quite the opposite.

Nothing makes sense and it’s terrifying him. 

You two sit there for another few minutes, the quiet not unwelcome as you each ponder the thoughts in your minds.

The demon takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly, closing his eyes so that he can think clearly. 

There is no time to learn more, to find out what happened that made things lead up to this; to understand the feeling of loving someone and losing them. 

He does not know what that is like, though he has begun to wonder if it is anything like the constant ache in his chest, the feeling of his heart being ripped to shreds without pause.

Perhaps there is something more to the torture he has always tried to pretend does not weigh him down every moment. 

But there is no time.

JK forces himself to look back at you.

The way you stare off into the distance with watery eyes and a lost gaze, makes that awful feeling in his chest happen again. 

The color is draining from your face quickly, and the warmth that usually emits from you is no longer there.

You jump a little when he takes your hand, your eyes falling to where he grabbed you before traveling up to his face. 

JK runs his thumb along your knuckles softly, noting how cold your skin has become. 

There is no time…for anything.

You’re fading. 

“We need to go,” he whispers, the soft spoken words still echoing around the cave.

He watches your face crumple and a few more tears stream down your cheeks.

“I don’t understand,” you mumble tearfully, exhaustion and confusion clear in your voice, “I don’t understand why it isn’t working.”

“I’m sorry.”

A broken sob breaks from your lips and you pull your hand from his to cover your face. 

“I’ve waited so long to hear you say that,” you choke out, “But now that you have, I wish you wouldn’t.”

He says nothing for a few moments, then he whispers again, clearly regretful, “We need to keep going.”

The demon watches the angel in front of him check out for a few moments before wiping at her eyes and choking down a swallow as she breathes out a couple shaky breaths.

“I’m not broken,” he eventually hears you whisper, your voice quivering. 

His eyes lock with yours.

“I didn’t say you w-”

“I’m not broken.”

JK swallows, knowing that he can’t hide the thoughts running through his mind. 

“Good,” he finally says, “Because I’m gonna need you to do your best to stay unbroken, just for a bit longer.”

He shifts, moving onto his knees in front of you and leaning down to brush the tangled strands of hair out of your face, “Can you do that for me?”

Your eyes are locked on his, quickly getting lost in them. 

You nod slowly. 

The smile that spreads on his face makes your heart lurch into your throat. 

-

You don’t fall asleep again, but you might as well have. 

You are so disoriented that you can’t tell up from down or right from left. All you know is that you are on his back, holding on weakly as he walks.

Eventually the gentle bouncing indicates that he’s walking up a set of stairs, although it’s too dark and you’re too out of it to know where exactly those stairs lead to.

Then there’s suddenly the uncomfortable red light that pierces your eyes and you close them quickly. When you open them again, you see a dark forest just ahead and stone ruins strewn about just outside of the stairway the two of you came out of. 

The same ruins that littered the ground outside of the seventh circle. 

The conversation surrounding them rushes back into your brain as you glance around. 

“The earthquake.”

“Earthquake?”

“The one that shook the earth at the time of His death.”

The sound of soft weeping reaches your ears and slowly begins to gain in volume. A forest of thin trees surrounds you when JK keeps walking, misty figures of souls dart in and out of sight.

Limbo.

The silence that stretches on between you and him is unsettling. Your stomach is in knots knowing what’s about to happen. 

What you’re about to do.

The silence doesn’t end, it continues all the way through the long dark forest, making you sick with fear.

There is no distraction to help you in any way.

Give me strength.

JK sees the gate not far ahead and swallows thickly as he adjusts you to be more comfortable on his back when you slide down a bit. Almost there.

He feels your arms tighten around him and your cold nose brush against the side of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. 

“I love you,” you mumble against his skin, the words making his stomach sink, “...it’s okay, you don’t need to say it back.” 

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispers.

“I know,” you whisper, “Me too.”

JK swallows, forcing his feet to keep moving forward. 

He’s only fifteen feet away from the giant stone entrance to Hell, when a voice rings out through the forest and he freezes.

“Going so soon?” 

A few more steps and you would have made it. 

You feel the demon go rigid under you, then he turns slowly.

JK locks eyes with the blonde demon that’s leaning against a tree and smirking.

“Did you really think you could get her out? Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

You gulp as you watch Sav laugh to himself. 

JK lets go of your legs and gently lowers you to the ground where you end up sitting uselessly. All the strength in you is gone, you can’t even barely hold yourself up as you watch your best friend straighten to his full height. 

“No Sav,” his deep voice rings out, “I counted on it.”

“You’re in no position to threaten me,” Sav snaps, moving from leaning against the tree and walking closer.

“I could say the same about you.”

“Give us the angel and we’ll forget this little incident happened.”

JK chuckles darkly. 

“You touch her and I will make you regret every choice you’ve ever made in your entire miserable little existence.”

You hold your breath as he stands between you and the demon that tortured you endlessly without restraint. 

“Oh, I’ve already touched her,” Sav whispers, a seductive smirk on his lips as he glances at you. You pull your gaze from his, not wanting to revisit all that had happened.

“I’ve made her scream and cry.”

JK’s jaw clenches.

“Are you jealous?” Sav giggles maniacally, “Are you jealous I got to cut up her precious little skin until her blood coated my fingertips and she was sobbing for me to have mercy?”

You did nothing of the sort, there was not a single beg for reprieve from you. And Sav knows that.

“Are you mad that I was the one that got to strip the little angel-”

JK walks forward and grabs Sav by the collar, dragging him close to his face roughly and cutting off his sentence. 

“You can try all you want to rattle me Sav,” JK seethes, his chest rising and falling with enraged breaths, “But we both know the bastard that resorts to that already knows when he’s fucking lost.”

Sav gulps, the fear in his eyes nearly hidden by the smirk on his face. 

“Grasping at straws already, Savie?” JK chuckles, holding the demon in place when he tries to wriggle away, “How fucking pathetic.”

You watch silently, but can’t see much more than JK’s back, the way he towers over Sav is almost terrifying. You wouldn’t want to be in his place. 

“I can’t imagine trying so hard to be important and failing so fucking miserably.”

Sav glares at JK fiercely, the words biting into his bones and nearly making him crack. 

He’s about to snap back when a chill goes through the forest and both demons stiffen. 

Your heart leaps to your throat at the sound of the gravelly voice that would not leave you alone. 

“Really Sav, enough of this ridiculous humiliation you cause yourself constantly. How useless can you be? Can’t you see that you don’t need any more help to look so pathetic?”

All you can see of this new demon are large black wings and a looming figure. 

No one says anything for a few moments, then the cold voice speaks again. 

“Let go.”

You watch in fear as JK roughly lets go of Sav, making the smaller demon stumble back. You can see the dark-haired demon’s shoulders moving up and down with heavy breaths. It’s clear he had no choice but to listen. 

It only takes one look from the newcomer to send Sav scrambling away into the trees. 

You close your eyes after seeing the frighteningly beautiful devil in front of JK. 

Lucifer glances at you over his minion’s shoulder and smiles. 

“You’ve only just arrived in Hell, angel. Won’t you stay a little longer?”

You don’t answer him.

JK gulps, his whole body shaking.

“Kneel.”

He drops to his knees immediately, head hanging in shame as he stares at the ground and bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood. 

Lucifer chuckles. 

“Look at you. You really thought you could make your own decisions, you thought I knew nothing of your actions and that you could slip away unnoticed.”

“I didn’t-”

“Shut up.”

JK snaps his mouth shut, grinding his teeth in order not to let himself scream profanities. 

The Devil leans down and whispers, “I own you. Has that also slipped from your knowledge? Must I remind you that I am the one that calls the shots?”

You can feel sweat pouring down your bloody back, the pain beginning to increase with each moment that passes. 

Only a few seconds pass before you realize something is happening to JK too. 

He’s hunched over, breathing heavily and grimacing.

“Jungkook,” you gasp out, horrible pain washing over you and rendering you incapable of moving. 

“Shut your filthy mouth,” Lucifer snaps, his glare turning to you and the pain surging up into new levels as you cry out and lay your forehead on the ground, prayers falling from your lips desperately. 

JK can’t move, he’s stuck where he is; kneeling at the feet of Lucifer and shaking with agony. 

You force yourself to lift your gaze and look at the Devil, locking eyes with him.

Lucifer’s eyes widen in rage at your defiance and he steps forward, reaching to grab the demon kneeling before him. 

He stops though, when his path is suddenly blocked by you throwing yourself in front of him. 

JK opens his eyes, his gaze lifting to see you standing between him and his leader. The blood streaking down your legs and torn dress is a strangely vibrant red. His eyes lift more to see your smaller wings, still ripped to shreds. 

You look miniscule standing in front of the Devil himself, but you don’t appear afraid in the slightest. Your fists are clenched so tight that fresh blood drips from them where your fingernails dig into the delicate skin.

Lucifer takes a step back and chuckles, crossing his arms, his dark wings resting behind him.

“You think you’re very brave, don’t you?”

You say nothing, only glare at him with a burning hatred.

“He cannot leave. You already know this…why pretend otherwise?”

When you still don’t respond, he uncrosses his arms. 

“You don’t know your place, do you child?”

His voice has become lower and his expression softens, now uncharacteristically gentle. 

Despite his words, he suddenly seems empathetic, in a way. It’s startling. 

Your brows furrow but you hold your ground. 

JK watches in confusion from where he’s still kneeling on the ground, unable to move and jaw clenched shut as the pain evens out to a steady ache across his whole body.

“In mortal life, living in the village,” Lucifer whispers as he looks you over, “You never belonged there, did you?”

Your eyes narrow more but you remain quiet. 

“You don’t belong up there either, do you?”

“I belong there,” you choke out, wishing your voice to sound stronger than it does. 

A sad smile spreads on the demon’s face. 

“Do you? Because I see the same look in your eyes that was in mine the day I found out I didn’t belong anywhere either.”

You’re about to respond, but he cuts you off. 

“D-”

“You don’t belong anywhere, little misfit, you know I speak the truth. Why not join me? Why bother suffering uselessly just to follow His ridiculous will? I chose to belong here. You can choose to join me,” A smirk spreads on his face, “We’re not so different, you and I-”

“I am nothing like you,” you whisper fiercely, “And I do belong there. I have never belonged anywhere more.”

You take a step closer, your bare feet numb to the warmth radiating from the earth.

“Did you really think you could convince me otherwise, demon?”

His eyes turn cold and angry at the dismissive title you use, as if he is worth no more than any other wretch here. 

“Did you really think you could give me a moment’s pause? Are you that foolish?”

He’s about to snap back but you keep going, stepping closer with each word. 

“I suppose you are. You experienced what it was like, you were there. You belonged there and you knew it, you just wanted more.”

The Devil glares at you. 

“You were there and you gave it up,” You get up into his space, your eyes glancing briefly at the dead white rose on his bicep being strangled by the serpent, “You are the biggest fool in existence and I would rather suffer ten thousand times more in order to bring others to be with Him than ever be compared to the likes of you.” 

“Enjoy that then,” Lucifer hisses, “Enjoy paradise all you like without him.”

You hear a pained gasp from behind you and turn in horror to see JK doubled over and groaning from the indescribable pain consuming him.

You rush to him, but are grabbed and yanked back harshly before you can get there. The Devil has a strong grip on your upper arm as he addresses his prisoner.  

“You are mine,” he growls, his glare trained on the demon kneeling before him, “Your soul belongs to me and it can never leave the gates of Hell.”

“He’s lying!” You scream, fighting against him, “He wants you to think he’s the one in charge. He’s not! Lucifer knows he’s lost, he knows that at the end every knee will bend to Him. All he can do now is bring down as many souls as he can before that,” You’re practically sobbing, “Jungkook, he’s desperate, you know that means he’s already lost!”

Lucifer chuckles, satisfaction sweeping over him at the feeling of despair seeping from the poor pathetic soul knelt in the hot dirt. 

“You can leave, Jungkook, don’t listen to him!!”

He watches Lucifer smirk down at him, still holding onto your arm. Tears are streaming down your face as you look at him desperately, as if trying to convey something without words. 

He doesn’t understand. 

“You can’t both leave,” The Devil whispers, “Can you?” 

He looks at you at the same time that JK does. 

Confusion is swarming the lower demon’s brain as he stares at you. 

The expression on your face doesn’t make sense. 

Why do you look sorry?

“But you knew that,” Lucifer continues quietly, “You came here knowing that, didn’t you little angel?”

JK’s eyes dart from his master over to you, and he finally understands. 

 “I’m going to miss you.”

That's what you had said, that’s what you meant. 

You can see the horror sweep over him and he shakes his head, never looking from your gaze. 

“No.”

Lucifer chuckles. 

“____, no-” JK chokes out in disbelief.

Your heart rips in two hearing him say your name for the first time in over five hundred years. 

“I told you not to call me that,” you whisper, tears in your eyes but an encouraging smile on your face meant to reassure him that it’s okay, “I don’t like it when you’re serious.”

He shakes his head again, slowly. 

He brought you to the gate to get you out, you’re not going to trade places with him. It wasn’t supposed to be like this-

“Why not take her up on her offer?” Lucifer grins wickedly, “If you do, all of this pain will go away.”

A breeze rushes over the demon kneeling in the mud, and with it the feeling of instant relief.

All of the pain that has wracked his body and kept him weighed down for as long as he can remember, is completely gone.

He looks up to see you staring at him, wide-eyed. 

The sound of a bubbling brook reaches his ears, like music on the wind. 

Tears brim in his eyes as the smoky forest around him fades away and he’s suddenly in a sunlit field. 

The beams of light from the sun do not hurt him. 

The sight of bluebirds flying into the clouds does not fill his heart with anger and resentment. 

The sweet smell of rain does not make him sick with disgust. 

JK looks down at the grass he’s kneeling on. He slowly reaches a hand out and runs his fingertips over the soft blades, a broken gasp leaving him at how silky it feels. Blue and pink and purple flowers decorate the field, and he could swear he hears them singing praises. 

Who are they singing for?

Soft footfalls reach his ears and he turns to look at who is approaching, but he can’t see them. All there is, is a human-shaped light walking through the meadow towards him. His heart aches with more and more immeasurable longing with each step closer they take to him. 

He doesn’t know why, but it feels like he knows this person, even though he’s never seen them before in his life. 

He wants them to reach him. 

He knows once they do, he will never hurt again.

The closer the person of light gets, the louder the flowers sing. 

The demon’s chest rises and falls rapidly, excitement fluttering in his stomach at the prospect of coming face to face with this being.

Tears creep to the edge, threatening to spill.

He’s never felt so at peace. 

Then it’s all gone.

It’s ripped from him mercilessly.

In the blink of an eye he’s back in Limbo and screaming at the sheer agony that takes root once again. JK grabs at the place where his heart is and cries out at the feeling of it being ripped from his chest and crushed into dust. 

He can’t breathe. 

The pain is more excruciating than it has ever been, it was unbearable before but he was forced to endure it, now it doesn’t feel like he’ll be able to.

After experiencing the soft grass, the gentle wind, the feeling of relief...he cannot bear it.

You cry as you are forced to watch in gut-wrenching grief while he sobs, his body shaking and curling in on itself to try and stop the pain. 

He can’t breathe. 

“You tasted the sweet sweet feeling of joy, of the eternal relief you will feel once you leave,” Lucifer whispers temptingly, “She can’t leave anyway, JK. She gave up the one thing she brought that connected her to the outside. She already paid to cross the ferry, she cannot leave.”

JK looks up at you, tears streaming down his face. 

You can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“Once she takes your place, you are free to go. You will no longer be bound to me. If you stay, your punishment will increase due to this little act of rebellion.”

You smile at him softly, tears still falling down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper.

JK drops his gaze to the ground.

You close your eyes and conjure up an image of her as best as you can, the one thing that can bring you comfort in this moment.

Aera’s small arms wrap around you and hold you tight as she whispers how much she loves you in your ear. 

“Nasya says you are brave, mommy,” the tiny child pulls back and smiles at you, “Are you really going to save daddy? Are you going to bring him home to be with us forever? Can I show him the Garden??”

You cup her supple cheeks with your hands and lean forward to kiss her button nose. 

Her bunny teeth appear as she giggles. You smile softly and touch your forehead to hers. 

“Yes, Aera,” you whisper, “I’m going to bring daddy home and you can bring him to the Garden, I know he will love it. Make sure you show him the roses, okay baby?”

She takes your cheeks in her hands as you did to her and leans forward to whisper, as if she’s telling you the biggest secret. 

“I will, mommy.”

JK looks up just as you open your eyes. His gaze locks on yours. 

Lucifer lets go of you roughly and you stumble, falling to the hard ground. 

“Choose.”

He thinks of the field, of the flowers, of the blue sky and white clouds.

And he wants it. 

It would be selfish. 

He thinks of the smell of crystal rain and honeysuckles, and the mysterious ethereal being coming to join him, to love him more than any other could.

And he wants it…

He’s selfish. 

Demons always are.

Demons can’t be anything other than selfish.

JK looks into your eyes, the next breath getting stuck in his chest. 

It’s okay, your eyes tell him, this is what I want, this is why I came.

You watch as he crawls over to you.

Despite the grueling pain tormenting him, he stands and pulls you up with him. He scans your face, bruised and bleeding and sweaty with grime.  

You feel him grab your hand, open it, then hold it tightly.

He waits for a moment, just a few seconds to take in the beauty in front of him. 

It’s just so breathtaking he can’t help it.

He didn’t try to, but it was inevitable..

So he stands there. 

Just for a moment. 

A few seconds to admire the way your cheeks shine with tears, the way your sad smile spreads as you look at him, the way that even your dress that’s always filthy; only adds to your beauty. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, still holding your hand tightly. 

Three little words are right on your tongue, ready to spill from your chapped lips, to assure him why it is okay, why you will gladly take his place. 

But you don’t get the chance. 

Before you can say it, you look down at what he’s placed in your hand. 

A ring made entirely of grass. 

Woven with careful fingers. 

It’s bigger than yours was. 

Realization strikes you too late.

He stands there, only for a few seconds, to admire the beauty in front of him.

Your eyes find his. 

And everything is okay. 

And he can love you.

“Jungkook-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, not before he grips your arms and turns with you, then he’s shoving you out of the gate.

You land with a harsh smack on the ground, but you’re up again in a split second and running back to the entrance of Hell, screaming at the top of your lungs. 

“Jungkook!! No, no no no no!!” You try to go back through, but it’s like an invisible wall is preventing you. You smash your fists against it as hard as you can, but it doesn’t budge. You can see forest on the other side, but you can’t see him or Lucifer there.

“Jungkook! Let! Me! In! Please don’t do this!!” You’re screaming and crying and pounding so hard that fresh blood drips down your knuckles. 

But you don’t care.

“Don’t you dare do this to me again!!”

-

JK watches you scream and cry and pound against the gates of Hell, he watches you slide down to the ground and start digging frantically, trying to find a way back in. 

He watches your guardian angel come and hold you, pulling you back from the gate and falling to the ground while hugging your sobbing figure.

The demon watches you shout at him in anger and denial, in confusion and betrayal.

He watches. 

But he does not follow you. 

___________________________

Lucifer smirks wickedly, his arms crossed over his broad chest. 

“You never learn, do you? Not in that life and not in this one.”

JK doesn’t respond as he watches you scream at the top of your lungs, tears pouring down your cheeks. He forces his eyes to leave and fall to the ground. 

“You could’ve been free, and yet you chose to stay.”

JK stays silent, but his eyes lift to meet the demon’s in front of him.

Lucifer grins maniacally, “Want to see what you missed out on? Since you’re so fucking obsessed with torturing yourself in love. You don’t even love her, you don’t remember her.”

The prince of Hell sees the internal struggle in his slave’s eyes, smile widening when he feels the resolve crumble. 

He wants to know, despite the eternal pain it will cause. 

He deserves it.

“Don’t worry, by the end you’ll be tortured enough to satisfy your addiction to agony.”

The smoke and the fire and the wails of the desperate fade away. 

There’s soft grass underneath him as he wakes sleepily from a nap. 

The warm sun caresses his skin.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Jungkook lifts his head to see a small child running full speed ahead through the field, giggles spilling from her lips and her long dark hair flying around haphazardly. 

“Daddy!” She shrieks again, little legs going as fast as they can, “Save me, save me!”

A laugh bursts from Jungkook’s lips when he sees you come out from the forest behind her, growling and laughing as you pretend to be a monster on the hunt. 

The small girl, who is only just about five, flings herself into his open arms and squeals as he envelopes her safely into his lap. 

“I’ve got you baby,” he whispers into her hair as he smiles, “You’re safe.”

You run up, laughing your head off along with them. 

Jungkook looks at you tenderly, the love he has for his best friend only increasing the longer he does. 

Your hair is a bit knotted from running with it down and your cheeks are tinted pink with exertion from chasing the little one through the forest. Your simple dress has mud smeared across it in several places and there are a few twigs in your hair that go unnoticed. 

“Mommy!” Aera wiggles off her father’s lap and wraps her arms around your legs.

“Hi baby,” you coo and swoop her up into the air as if she weighs no more than a feather. 

Jungkook smiles as he watches you dance around and giggle. 

Aera is exactly like the two of you put together. Her sweet face resembles her father’s but her personality is all you. She wears a dress that looks like a mini version of yours, her bare feet dirty with mud and pansies stuck in her hair from your flower picking earlier.

It reminds him of the way you looked when he first met you. 

His eyes burn with tears at how much he loves you both. It should be impossible to be filled with this much love and happiness. 

“Can you push me on the swing, daddy?” Aera is running back to him and cupping his face with her tiny hands, “Please? Mommy said you will say yes to me always because I’m too cute.”

Jungkook laughs and glances at you hiding your smile. 

“Mommy’s right,” he whispers before kissing her button nose. Then he stands up and scoops her into his arms-

The cursed howls of souls damned to Hell come rushing back, piercing his ear drums and making him wince. 

He hadn’t realized that he fell to his knees again.

Tears drip down his cheeks and fall to the dirt, mixing in with the tears of the lost souls starting their journey here.

“That is what you missed…because of Him.”

JK chokes out a sob and puts a hand to his bleeding heart, the ache of loss worse than it’s ever been.

“You would’ve had everything, if He had really loved you. It’s a pity, really.”

The demon grieving in the grime and salty tears of fellow damned souls feels his heart break even more, then that nasty feeling of resentment and bitterness begins to swell.

“Granted, you were happy with her, this Apple girl, for a decent amount of time I suppose.”

JK says nothing, just continues to stare at the dirt where his tears fall. 

“It never lasts though,” Lucifer muses, “Can’t imagine why humans crave it only to lose it in the end, to feel the grief ten times stronger than the love ever was.”

JK glances back to see you sobbing into your hands, wrapped in the arms of your guardian angel, blood and bruises littering your skin. 

“Look at that,” Lucifer tuts with mock pity, “That’s what love makes of humans. Nothing but misery. You had her, and you lost her.”

JK stares at you, watching you grieve for him in a way he had long forgotten how to relate to. 

“Tell me, Jungkook,” Lucifer whispers, leaning down, “Was it ever worth it?”

He sees you lying in the field, your fingertips alight with the sun, a bird song falling from your lips. The smile on your face that he got to witness. 

Just for a moment.

A single tear falls from his eye, sliding down his dirty cheek and falling to the ground as he looks at you. 

Jungkook’s voice is broken, weak with the pain of loss, but the Devil hears him anyway. 

“Yes.”

________________________________

Imelda holds you closely, keeping you together. If she wasn’t there you would be falling apart, scattered on the ground like leaves that have fallen from their tree.

Gut-wrenching sobs are ripped from you as you look at the gate to Hell, seeing nothing but the empty forest on the other side.

“Why?!” You scream at the top of your lungs, another round of sobbing rendering you incapable of saying anything more. 

Nehemiah is there as well, crouched on the ground and crying into his hands, his baby blue wings shaking with each breath.

You grab Imelda’s hand and hold it to your chest, holding on for dear life. 

You cannot handle this grief, you cannot handle it.

“I was g-going to s-save him,” you sob between choked breaths, “I was going to give my life for him!!”

A warm breeze sweeps over the three of you and your next sob gets stuck in your throat. 

Then a soothing voice filled with a regalness beyond compare speaks, trembling the burnt trees around you and causing the rocks to quiver where they lay.

You can no longer see the forest. Now there is only a hill in front of you, the silhouette of a cross against the golden sunset. 

“I already did.”

The ground quakes and you see a large statue depicting Lucifer in front of the second and seventh circles trembling before crumbling down until there is nothing left but rubble.

You gasp, grabbing your chest and trying to breathe. 

You’re back by the gate.

Watery gaze locking back on the invisible boundary, your heart leaps to your throat when you see a hand come out and grab onto the dirt, fingers digging into it as they try to pull themselves out. 

Nehemiah is up and running before you can even register what’s happening. 

The blue angel grabs the boy’s hand, holding on tight before pulling as hard as he can, a broken scream bursting from his lips at the effort.

You watch in disbelief as the guardian angel drags his beloved human, your best friend in the entire world, out of the gates of Hell.

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After much deliberation: an Epilogue will be posted tomorrow.

a/n: thank you so much for everything you guys, you mean the world to me. This has been one hell of a ride (no pun intended) Don't kill me pls, again, there will be an epilogue tomorrow for those of you with weak hearts 💕 ur welcome