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pucksandpower · 5 months ago

Text

La Regina

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Charles Leclerc x Schumacher!Reader

Summary: a girl raised at her father’s knee goes from rising star to princess to queen (or in which becoming a legend runs in the Schumacher family)

You bounce excitedly in the passenger seat of your papa’s car as he pulls into the parking lot of the karting track. At 5-years-old, you’re too young to race officially, but he promised to let you drive some practice laps after the scheduled competition today.

“Remember, Maus, listen closely to the instructors and stay safe out there,” Michael says, ruffling your hair affectionately before getting out.

You scramble out after him, having to jog to keep up with his long strides across the parking lot. You reach to take his hand, but freeze when a small crowd starts converging around your papa. Men in bright vests are rushing over, cameras flashing rapidly.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” You ask, startled by the commotion.

Before Michael can respond, a curly-haired woman thrusts a baby into his arms. “Oh my god, can you just hold her for one second? I need a picture!”

Your papa looks bewildered but graciously cradles the infant, giving an awkward smile as more and more people start shoving pieces of paper and pens in front of him.

“Excuse me, please, I have my daughter with me today,” he tries saying over the chaos, but no one is listening.

You shrink back, overwhelmed by the pushing crowd and flurry of voices pleading for autographs and photos. Where did all these people come from? This has never happened before when you’ve gone karting with your papa.

Sensing your unease, Michael gently passes the baby back to its mother and kneels down in front of you. “Hey, it’s okay, Maus. Why don’t you wait for me over there?” He gestures to a bench off to the side.

Part of you wants to cling to him, scared of all the strangers crowding around so aggressively. But you also don’t want him to have to worry about you on top of everything else. You nod bravely and make your way through the throng to the little bench, watching apprehensively as your papa tries politely handling the requests.

After what feels like forever, the crowd finally starts dispersing, though a few linger behind like stubborn cats begging for scraps. Michael shakes the last few hands and accepts some papers to sign before gratefully escaping over to you.

“I’m so sorry about that, Maus,” he says, looking apologetic as he plops down on the bench. “I didn’t expect such a scene on what’s supposed to be our fun day.”

“It’s okay, Papa.” You lean against his side, still a bit rattled but comforted by his familiar warmth. “Who were all those people? Why did they want your … uhh …“ You can’t quite remember the word for the scribbles people ask famous people for.

“Autographs,” Michael supplies with an amused chuckle, wrapping an arm around you. “And they wanted photos too, I suppose. I’m … well, I’m quite a famous racecar driver.”

You cock your head, trying to process this concept of your papa being some kind of celebrity. As far as you’re concerned, he’s just your goofy, loving dad who takes you karting and makes the silliest voices for all your stuffed animals at home.

“Really? Like the famous famous people on TV?” You’ve seen the paparazzi swarming the actors and musicians during awards shows, but you’d never imagined that could happen to your own papa.

Michael nods, drawing you closer with a squeeze. “Yes, somewhat like that, though it’s a bit excessive at a small karting event.” He laughs again and brushes some of your wayward hair from your face. “But you’re right, to you I’m just Papa. I don’t expect anything more from my favorite Maus.”

You beam at the affectionate nickname, all the earlier stress melting away. Who cares if strangers want your papa’s autograph or photos? All that matters is you two spending the day together like always.

“Can we go get our karts now?” You ask eagerly, bouncing a little on the bench. “I want to show you how fast I can go!”

“Of course!” Michael jumps up and scoops you into his arms with a playful growl, making you shriek giddily. “My little speed demon is going to leave me in the dust.”

He swings you up onto his shoulders and you cling on tightly as he strides toward the pit area. A few more people spot him and make a move closer with cameras and sharpies extended, but seem to think better of it when they see you perched up high.

The two of you spend the next couple hours karting together, trading places taking warm up laps and cheering each other on. At one point, a young attendant working the pit area approaches Michael somewhat nervously.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Schumacher?” He’s clutching a crumpled baseball cap in one hand, ducking his head shyly. “I’m just such a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo and signing this for me after your session?”

Your papa smiles kindly at the young man and takes the cap. “Not at all, no problem.” As the attendant walks away, looking elated, Michael turns to you with a wink. “See? That’s how you politely ask for an autograph.”

You giggle and mime zipping your lips. “Don’t worry, Papa, I won’t let the fame go to my head when I’m a famous racecar driver too someday.”

Scooping you up once more, Michael presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “That’s my girl. Now, last few laps — let’s see who can go the fastest without ending up in the grass!”

As evening starts falling, the two of you make your way back through the now nearly deserted lot after returning the rental karts. Most of the other karters have cleared out, leaving just you two strolling unhurriedly back to the car.

“Well Maus, despite the, uh, overexcited fans, I’d call this day a success,” Michael says, swinging your joined hands idly. “We both had our fun on the track, and I think you handled that crowd back there like a champ.”

You smile up at him, still so proud just to be his daughter. “I don’t care about all those other people, papa. As long as I have you, that’s all I need.”

Stopping beside the car, Michael crouches down and cups your face in his calloused racing palms, looking at you with such fierce adoration.

“Maus, you have me, always. No matter what happens out there,” he gestures vaguely at the empty track, “When I’m with you, I’m just Papa. My greatest accomplishment, my biggest award, is being your father. Verstanden?”

You launch yourself into his arms, hugging as tightly as you can. “Verstanden, Papa. I love you.”

“Ich liebe dich mehr, Maus,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek to your hair. “Now, what do you say we go get some victory ice cream?”

As the two of you climb into the car, you can’t keep the smile off your face, practically glowing with contentment. Sure, maybe your papa is some big famous racecar driver that everybody wants a piece of. But really, he’s just your papa — and you’re his whole world.

***

The ringing of the house phone cuts through the tense silence like a knife. You shrink further into the couch cushions as your mother rushes to answer it, shoulders visibly taut.

“Hello? No, I cannot make any comment at this time. Yes, I understand there is interest but-” Corinna breaks off, rubbing her temples wearily. “Please respect our privacy as a family right now. Thank you.”

She hangs up and leans against the wall, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. Before she can even draw a full breath, the phone rings again, shrill and insistent. With a muffled curse, your mother snatches it up.

“What? I told you, I cannot give any statements! This is a private matter. How did you even get this number?”

You watch apprehensively as she responds again, her voice rising in distress. In the days since your papa’s skiing accident, it seems like the entire world has been hounding your family, desperate for any scrap of information.

On the TV across the room, the endless cycle of news reports drones on lowly. Images of your papa’s broken, still body being rushed from the slopes into a helicopter. Flashing advancer texts speculating on his chances of recovery from the traumatic head injury.

It makes you feel ill.

Beside you on the couch, Mick sits blank-faced, looking nearly as pale and worn as your mother. At 14, he understands the gravity of the situation all too well. Your big brother has always idolized your papa, hoping to follow in his racing footsteps one day as well. The thought of him not being there to see the realization of that dream is devastating.

Gina is curled up in the armchair, her shoulders shaking every so often with muffled sobs. At 16, she’s arguably been taking this the hardest of all you kids. She keeps her face stoically dry in front of your mother, but you can see how red and puffy her eyes are from constant crying.

As for you, at 11-years-old, you’re somehow both numb and feeling everything all at once. Part of you still can’t fully process that this nightmare is real. That your hero, your papa, could be lying comatose in a hospital, hovering between life and death. The other part of you is overwhelmed in a tsunami of terror, panic, anger, sadness — any and every emotion crashing through you at all hours.

“Kids, I’m so sorry about this,” your mother says, defeated, as she rejoins you in the living room after ending her latest call. The bags under her eyes seem to have deepened further overnight. “I know this is incredibly difficult and intrusive. But your papa is … he’s a public figure. People are concerned.”

“Incredibly insensitive is what they’re being,” Gina spits, uncurling herself from the chair enough to shoot your mother a resentful look. “We’re going through actual hell and all these people care about is getting a sound bite for the evening news!”

Corinna looks pained but doesn’t rebuke her. “I know, liebling, I know. But your papa has millions of fans all over the world who have followed his career for decades. Whether we like it or not, they care about him … and about us by extension.”

You think back to that day at the karting track all those years ago when you first realized your papa was what people called “famous”. How all those strangers clamored around him so aggressively just for a photo or an autograph. That level of fandom seemed exciting and novel at the time, when you were just a naïve 5-year-old. Now you see it for how intrusive and violating it is, this sense of entitlement people have to the private life of a public figure.

The phone starts ringing again, shattering the fragile quiet. Your mother squeezes her eyes shut and makes no move to get it this time. After four rings, the call goes to voicemail. A moment later, the tinny sound of an Italian voicemail being left blares through the speaker.

“Scusi, scusi, please, if there is any update on the condition of the great Michael Schumacher, any information at all! We are all holding vigils and saying prayers, but we must know how he fares! The world is watching and waiting!”

The words, pleading and demanding all at once, are like a slap across your face. The man’s voice is laced with such desperation, as if your papa’s life is mere entertainment to be consumedby the masses. You feel abruptly furious, incensed that a stranger’s morbid curiosity is given the same weight as your family’s anguish.

“Turn it off,” Mick mutters through clenched teeth, hunching over on the couch. “Just turn it off, Mama.”

Corinna nods numbly and reaches to end the voicemail, her mouth set in a grim line. Buzzing fills the room again as the TV drones on, the reporters’ voices a dull roar that you can no longer discern actual words from as your ears ring with white noise.

The shrill ringing of the phone cuts through once more, like a record scratching in your brain. Your mother flinches violently, hands coming up to clamp over her ears as she squeezes her eyes shut, finally at her breaking point.

Unable to watch this torture anymore, you surge to your feet and storm across the living room. You rip the phone from its cradle and hurl it against the far wall, the plastic casing shattering loudly. The ringing blessedly ends, leaving only an eerie silence in its wake.

Mick and Gina stare at you with wide, stunned eyes. Your mother simply deflates, sliding down the wall to the floor as the adrenaline drains from her body. For several beats, no one dares breathe too loudly. Then, Gina starts to shake her head slowly, tears slipping free.

“Brava,” she murmurs, the barest hint of approval in her voice.

Your mother doesn’t scold you for the outburst. She merely reaches out a hand, silently beckoning you closer until you slowly cross the room again and sink to your knees in front of her. She cups your face in her palms, her own cheeks glistening with fresh tears.

“You’re right, liebling, you’re right,” she whispers brokenly. “This is about our family, not … not the world thinking they’re owed something.”

She pulls your head against her shoulder and you cling to her tightly as she begins to weep in earnest, great shuddering sobs wracking her whole frame. Gina scrambles over and tucks herself against your mother’s other side, and soon all three of you are tangled in each other’s arms, letting the tidal wave of grief crest over you.

Mick stays frozen on the couch, watching over your huddle with dark, haunted eyes. For the first time since this ordeal began, the four of you are united in simply feeling, truly letting yourselves shatter. No more putting on brave faces or pretending to be okay — from this moment, you can finally grieve as a family behind closed doors, blockading out the rest of the cruel, prying world.

Later that evening, after crying yourselves into an exhausted stupor, you drift up the stairs and sequester yourself in your bedroom. You bypass the framed photos of your papa on your nightstand, the sight of his bright smile and twinkling eyes too searing at the moment. Instead, you sink to your knees in the middle of the floor and clasp your hands tightly, bowing your head to murmur desperate pleas.

“Please, please let my papa be okay. I don’t care about all his fame or the stupid reporters. I just want him to get better and come home to us. He’s not just the famous Michael Schumacher to me. He’s Papa. He’s my whole world.”

The words spill out in a torrent, all the fear and longing you’ve been bottling up for the better part of a week erupting forth. You plead to any higher power that may be listening, bargaining away your future, your dreams, anything — as long as your papa pulls through this nightmare.

How many times had you taken for granted those moments of him just being your dad — making you pancakes on Saturday mornings, dozing on the couch during family movie nights, playfully tossing you into the pool when you grew too whiny in the summer heat? You’d give anything to have those simple, precious daddy-daughter moments back.

“The world can have his trophies and titles,” you whisper fiercely, tears slipping free to patter on the carpet. “I don’t care about any of that. I just want my papa. Please, please bring him back to us.”

You curl in on yourself, forehead pressing into the floor as your shoulders shake with silent sobs. All the adoring fans, the fawning media, the hangers-on clamoring for a piece of his glory — they only know the manufactured public persona of Michael Schumacher, legendary racer and famous celebrity. But to you, he’s always just been the quiet hero tucking you into bed at night, the gentle presence reading stories in funny voices, the mighty protector pulling you in for all-encompassing bear hugs.

You miss that wonderful, silly, tender father more than anything in the world. You don’t give a damn about his racing accolades or his fame. You just desperately need your papa back home where he belongs — with his family, the people who loved and treasured him most as simply Michael.

Just Michael. Your one and only papa.

The raw ache of that longing consumes you utterly. You lay there amid the fading light from your bedroom windows, dreams and memories of your papa flickering behind your eyelids as you plead to any benevolent force that may be listening. All you want is the chance to make more joyful memories with him, to hear his rich laugh, to keep basking in his unconditional love for years and years to come.

Please, you beg the universe silently, one last time. Please let this nightmare end. Don’t let the brightest light in my world be extinguished before its time.

Let me have my papa back.

***

A tense hush has fallen over the dining room table, the clinking of utensils against plates the only sound cutting through the thick silence. Gina avoids everyone’s eyes, pushing food around her plate listlessly. Mick stares down at his half-eaten dinner, jaw working like he’s chewing over something weighty. You pick at a bread roll, too knotted with anxiety to muster much appetite.

Your mother is the one to finally break the stifling quiet, clearing her throat. “Kids, I know these last few weeks have been … incredibly difficult for us all.”

You risk a glance up at Corinna. Her eyes are tight at the corners, her mouth a taut line. Just like all of you, the constant vigil at your papa’s bedside, combined with the relentless badgering from the media, has clearly taken its toll.

“But we have to keep trying to be a family, yes?” She reaches across the table to grip your hand. “We’re all Michael has right now. We have to … to stick together for him.”

You nod numbly, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat at the reminder of your papa’s unchanged condition. The waiting, the not knowing if or when he’ll wake up, is a special kind of torment you wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Mick abruptly shoves his plate away, the porcelain scraping loudly across the wood. You all flinch a little at the harsh sound.

“I’ve been thinking ...” he starts, then seems to reconsider his words, shoulders tightening fractionally. “Well, Y/N, you know how I … how I race under Mama’s last name?”

You frown slightly, uncertain where he’s going with this. “Betsch, yes. Because you wanted to make your own name without the expectation and pressure of being Michael Schumacher’s son.”

He dips his chin once, looking almost pained. “Exactly. And I think … I think maybe you should consider doing the same.”

The words sit heavy and convolulenting between you all like a sack of wet cement. You blink dumbly, hardly comprehending what he’s suggesting at first. When the implication hits you, you actually recoil as if he’d slapped you across the face.

“What? No. No, absolutely not, Mick. How can you even say that?”

“Y/N, just hear me out,” he pleads, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “With Papa … with what happened, the paparazzi and the fans, they’re going to be watching our every move even more than before. Especially you since you’re planning to continue competing-”

“Don’t you dare make this about his condition,” you spit, fury thrumming through your veins like struck lightning. “And of course I plan to keep racing — it’s what Papa would want! I’m not going to hide from his name like it’s some shameful thing!”

Gina is watching the exchange with wide, startled eyes, her food forgotten. Mick runs an agitated hand through his hair, shaking his head firmly.

“It’s not about hiding or shame, it’s about protecting yourself! Don’t you see how crazy things have gotten? All the reporters harassing us, the fans leaving awful messages online hoping for updates ...”

He leans forward, expression almost desperate. “If you race as Betsch, you can compete without having that extra spotlight. You can just be a normal kid on the track without people peering in.”

Heat rushes up the back of your neck in waves of humiliation and rage. How dare he insinuate that inheriting your papa’s legacy is some kind of burden to be shrugged off? That the name Schumacher is a burden to bear rather than a badge of honor?

“I’m not you, Mick,” you bite out, fists clenching beneath the table. “Maybe racing under Mama’s name helped you deal with the pressure better and that’s fine. But I’m proud to be Michael Schumacher’s daughter! And if people can’t respect that, if they think it means they own a piece of me, then they can go to hell!”

“Language!” Your mother gasps, both appalled and slightly impressed. But you ignore her admonishment, too fired up to rein it in now.

“What, you think pretending to be someone else is going to spare me from living in Papa’s shadow anyway?” You shake your head adamantly, leaning across the table towards Mick. “It’s not, and you know it. Even if I raced under a fake name, everyone is still going to know exactly who I am and make comparisons.”

Slamming your palms on the table, you surge to your feet, chair screeching harshly against the floor. All the pain and uncertainty of these past few weeks is bubbling over into bitter, biting words.

“So why should I hide it? Why can’t I take pride in my name and my heritage? Maybe it’ll mean more scrutiny, but it’s a million times better than feeling like I have to be ashamed! Like I can’t fully honor Papa and make him proud!”

Chest heaving, you stare down a wide-eyed Mick, almost daring him to challenge you further. He seems to read the conviction blazing in your eyes, features softening into chagrin.

“You’re right ...” he murmurs with a wince. “You’re right, Y/N, I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

You hold his repentant gaze for a long moment before deflating back into your chair with a muted thud. In the ringing silence, you can hear your mother’s soft sniffles from the far end of the table. When you look over, she has her head bowed, hands pressed to her eyes as she cries quietly.

“M-Mama?” Gina ventures in a small voice, reaching across to grasp her mother’s wrist. “What’s wrong?”

Corinna lowers her hands, swiping at the tears streaking her cheeks. When she meets your bewildered gaze, her expression is a complicated brew of pride and heart-wrenching sadness.

“Nothing is wrong, liebling,” she assures Gina with a watery smile, before turning back to you. “Y/N, you’re so much like your papa, do you know that? So brave and determined … so full of that same fighting spirit.”

She dips her chin, lips trembling faintly. “He would be so proud to hear you defend his name like that. To see you ready to take on the weight of wearing it, regardless of what the world throws at you.”

More tears spill forth, but she brushes them away impatiently with the backs of her hands.

“But liebchen, you have to understand … Michael spent decades bearing that scrutiny and expectation. People analyzing his every move, always under a spotlight so harsh it burned. I never wanted that for any of you.”

Sliding her chair back, your mother crosses to kneel before you, cradling your face gently between her palms. Her eyes are shining but intensely serious, almost pleading with you.

“The Schumacher name casts such a long shadow, one so great that your own light can be eclipsed before you ever have a chance to properly shine. I don’t want you smothered by that burden, mein schatz. I want you free to make your own amazing mark on this world, completely unchained.”

You feel your throat grow tight at her words, the weight of them ringing so true and terribly sad. You reach up to circle your fingers around her wrists, holding her hands to your cheeks like vices.

“I know, Mama, I know,” you whisper roughly. “But that light you want me to shine? Papa is the one who sparked it inside me in the first place.”

You meet her watery gaze steadily, willing her to understand the conviction taking root inside you.

“The joy and passion I have for racing doesn’t come from some anonymous dream. It comes from him — from the nights he spent giving me a play-by-play of his biggest victories, from the days we spent at the karting tracks making memories, from everything I want so desperately to honor.”

Leaning forward until your brows nearly touch, you let the pleasing words spill out directly from your heart.

“So please, please don’t ask me to race as anyone other than your daughter, yes, but also proudly as Michael Schumacher’s daughter. That name isn’t a burden or a shadow to me. It’s something I want to carry forward and make blaze even brighter.”

Your mother’s eyes slip shut as she draws in a shuddering breath. For a long moment, she simply holds your face cradled in her palms, seeming to bask in your impassioned words. When her eyes finally open again, they are overflowing with a fierce tenderness.

“Oh liebchen,” she murmurs, voice thick with an odd mix of grief and wonder. “You are your father’s daughter through and through. So determined, so unafraid to face the world head on ...”

She strokes her thumbs along the apples of your cheeks, swiping away the dampness there. “I only hope he knows just how brightly his fire still burns in you. How it is living on in the most brilliant way.”

Surging up onto her knees, your mother pulls you into a fierce embrace, tucking your head beneath her chin. You cling to her tightly, drawing strength from her warmth, her tireless support and love. Over her shoulder, you can see Mick and Gina watching silently, their own eyes overly bright.

When your mother finally leans back, cupping your face once more, her expression has regained some of its usual firmness and resolution.

“Very well, then,” she nods, offering you a watery but determined smile. “If you truly feel ready to take on the world, to claim that name and legacy as yours, then we will face it together. As a family.”

She rises lithely to her feet, drawing you up along with her. Gathering Mick and Gina in with the sweep of her arms, she folds you all in her protective embrace, holding your foreheads together in the center.

“You may be Schumachers, but that name does not define or limit you,” she declares, quiet but firm. “It is simply one part of your identity, one piece of the incredible legacy you inherited. What you choose to make of it, how brightly you make that legacy burn, is up to you alone.”

She pulls back just enough to meet each of your eyes in turn, her own gleaming with resolute pride.

“So let them watch, let them scrutinize and sneer and make their judgments. You will simply keep chasing your passions and living your truths. Yes, the world may know you as Schumachers, but you alone will define what that name represents, now and for generations to come.”

***

The roar of the engines fades as you cross the finish line, taking the chequered flag. The broadcast team erupts in excitement.

“Unbelievable! Y/N Schumacher has done it — the daughter of the legendary Michael Schumacher wins the Formula 2 championship in her rookie year!”

You can hardly believe it yourself as you start your cooldown lap, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The pit crew is cheering wildly, holding up the #1 sign. Your race engineer is on the radio, his voice cracking with joy. “You’re a champion, Y/N! A first-year champion!”

“What an incredible drive from the young German. Shades of her father with that relentless determination and racecraft. She’s carried on the Schumacher name proudly.”

As you return to the pit lane, you spot Mick getting out of his own car. He has a huge smile on his face, eyes shining with pride. You take a moment to drink it all in as you bring your car to a stop and he’s the first one there, ripping off your helmet so he can hug you tightly.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” He’s beaming as he pulls back to look at you.

“Aww, Mick ...” You blink back happy tears, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what you’ve accomplished. “I couldn’t have done it without you pushing me every single race.”

Mick shakes his head dismissively. “This was all you. You were the faster driver this season, plain and simple.” His face falls a little. “I really thought I had you there at the end, but you just wouldn’t give up.”

You grin cheekily. “Of course not! I’m a Schumacher — we never give up.”

“What a beautiful moment between the siblings. You can see the immense pride Mick has for his sister, despite coming up just short of winning the championship himself.”

The rest of the team surrounds the two of you, lifting you both up onto their shoulders as the celebrations kick into full gear. You lock eyes with Mick over the sea of smiling faces and he winks at you contentedly.

Later, after you’ve returned to the garage, you find a quiet moment alone with Mick. He pulls you into another hug, this one more lingering.

“I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You’ve worked so incredibly hard for this.” Mick’s voice is thick with emotion.

You squeeze him tightly. “Thank you, Mick. That means everything coming from you.”

He pulls back, cupping your face fondly. “I remember when we were kids, dreaming of following in Papa’s footsteps. And now look at us!”

You laugh, a few happy tears spilling over. “I know, it’s crazy! I couldn’t have done this without your help, you know. You’ve been by my side every step of the way.”

“A storybook ending for the Schumacher siblings. Y/N cementing herself as a future star, with her older brother not far behind.”

Mick shakes his head adamantly. “No, Y/N, this was all your talent and determination. I just got a front row seat to watching greatness in the making.” His eyes are shining with sincerity.

You throw your arms around his neck, struck by how lucky you are to have such an amazing brother. “I love you, Mick. Thank you for always believing in me.”

He hugs you fiercely. “I’ll always believe in you. You’re a champion now, but I know this is just the beginning for you.”

The team arrives then, champagne bottles in hand and ready to continue the celebration. You pull back and grin at Mick mischievously, cracking open the first bottle with a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you … for now.”

The bubbly liquid sprays everywhere as you both dissolve into laughter, reveling in this perfect moment of sibling bonding and love. Mick pulls you into a wet hug, so proud and grateful to share this with you.

“And an iconic image — the Schumacher children celebrating a Formula 2 title just like their father did in the upper series so many times before. A changing of the guard, with the name Schumacher set to dazzle racing fans once more for years to come.”

Later that night, after you’ve showered off the champagne and slipped into comfy clothes, there’s a soft knock at your hotel room door. You open it to find Mick standing there, shifting awkwardly.

“Hey, you’ve got a second?” His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, like he’s been crying.

“Of course, what’s up?” You gesture him inside, concerned by his demeanor.

Mick enters slowly, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. He seems to be struggling to find the words.

You rest a hand on his arm. “Mick, you can tell me anything, you know that.”

He nods jerkily, finally meeting your eyes. “I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you accomplishing your dreams.” His voice catches with emotion.

“But?” You prod gently.

Mick’s eyes water again. “But … it’s also really hard for me. This was my dream first, you know? To become a champion like Papa.” He swipes at the tears angrily. “And now you’ve beaten me to it. I’m just … I’m struggling with that a bit.”

Your heart clenches at his quiet admission. You pull Mick into a tight hug, rubbing his back soothingly. “Oh, Mick … I’m so sorry. I never wanted to take that away from you.”

He shakes his head against your shoulder. “No, no, it’s not your fault at all. You earned this, fair and square. I’m just … dealing with some complicated emotions, I guess.”

You push him back by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes intently. “Mick, listen to me. You are one of the most naturally gifted drivers I’ve ever seen. This is not the end for you, not even close. You’re going to be a champion too, I know it.”

Mick seems to deflate slightly at your words, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you state firmly. “We’re going to take this to the top level together. And we’re going to make Papa even more proud than he already is.”

A slow smile spreads across Mick’s face. “Together,” he repeats, reaching out to take your hand and give it a squeeze.

You squeeze back reassuringly. “Always together. You and me, just like when we were kids. We’re a team, remember?”

Mick nods, the brightness returning to his eyes. He seems lighter now, the melancholy cloud lifted by your words of encouragement.

On impulse, you throw your arms around him again, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. Mick laughs delightedly, squeezing you just as tightly.

“Thank you, Y/N. I needed to hear that from you,” he murmurs shakily into your hair.

You pull back just enough to grin at him cheekily. “What are little sisters for?”

Mick lets out a surprised bark of laughter, warmth and affection shining from every part of his expression as he gazes at you fondly. “You’ll always be my little sis, champion or not.”

It’s your turn to laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. “Well this little sis just kicked your ass this season, so show some respect!”

Mick’s eyes crinkle with mirth. “I’ll remember that for next year, believe me.”

***

It’s a crisp autumn evening at the Schumacher family home in the Swiss Alps. You’re curled up on the plush couch in the living room, flipping through a magazine while your brother paces back and forth anxiously.

“Will you please sit down?” You ask, eyeing him over the top of the pages. “You’re making me dizzy.”

Mick runs a hand through his tousled blond hair. “Sorry, I’m just … worked up, I guess.”

You set the magazine aside. “About what? We haven’t had a race in weeks.”

He stops his pacing to face you. “You know the season’s almost over, right? And Haas still hasn’t said anything about re-signing me for next year.”

“Oh, Mick.” You offer him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. You’ve had a solid season.”

Mick flops down next to you, deflating a little. “I don’t know. There are so many other options on the table. What if Haas decides to go a different direction?”

“Then you’ll find another seat,” you say firmly. “Any team would be lucky to have you behind the wheel.”

He manages a half-smile. “Thanks. I just wish I had your confidence sometimes.”

“What can I say?” You flash him a cheeky grin. “It’s a gift.”

The peaceful moment is shattered as both of your phones start ringing in unison. You exchange a puzzled look before digging them out.

“My manager,” Mick says, furrowing his brow as he answers. “Hello?”

You do the same, pressing the phone to your ear. “Hey, Nicolas, what’s up?”

For the next few minutes, you and Mick are silent, listening intently with rapidly changing expressions — yours elated, his crestfallen. When you finally hang up, Mick is staring at the floor, lips pressed into a tight line.

“Well?” He asks, voice tight. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

You take a deep breath, trying to tamp down your surging excitement. “Ferrari wants me for next season.”

Mick’s face falls even further, if possible. “You’re kidding.”

“I wouldn’t joke about this!” You can’t keep the grin from overtaking your features. “Can you believe it? Driving for the Scuderia! It’s a dream come true!”

“Yeah, for you maybe,” Mick mutters darkly.

You blink at his tone, smile fading slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He drags a hand down his face wearily. “Haas declined to re-sign me for next year.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? No, that can’t be right!”

“Afraid so.” Mick’s voice is flat, resigned. “They said something about … needing to bring in fresh blood or some bullshit excuse.”

You scoot closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Mick, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

“Don’t be.” He tries for a nonchalant shrug, but it comes off as dejected. “At least one of us is moving up in the world.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?” You protest. “We’re teammates! We were supposed to take on Formula 1 together!”

Mick snorts humorlessly. “Looks like that’s not going to happen after all.”

An uncomfortable silence stretches between you. You open your mouth, searching for the right words of reassurance, but come up empty. How can you comfort him when your own dream has come true at his expense?

“Hey.” Mick’s somber tone breaks the quiet. “I’m happy for you, you know. Really, I am.”

You meet his sincere gaze, feeling your eyes start to well up. “I know. But that doesn’t make this any less shitty for you.”

He manages a rueful smile. “What can I say? I’m a realist.”

“So what are you going to do now?” You ask quietly.

Mick lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Keep grinding, I guess. Look for another seat, any seat, even if it’s not in F1 next season.”

“You can’t give up on F1!” You protest instantly. “You’re too good for that, Mick.”

“Am I, though?” He lets out a mirthless chuckle. “Face it, Y/N, you’ve always been the better driver. This just proves it.”

You shake your head adamantly. “That’s not true at all! You’re every bit as talented as me.”

“Then why did Ferrari pick you instead of me?” There’s no accusation in his words, just weariness.

You falter, mind churning as you search for an answer that won’t come. “I … don’t know.”

“Exactly.” Mick closes his eyes briefly. “Maybe it’s for the best. At least this way, one of us still gets to live out the Schumacher legacy and race for Ferrari. Carry on the family name, you know?”

“But you’re a Schumacher too,” you say, feeling your throat start to tighten with unshed tears. “It should be both of us out there, not just me.”

Mick reaches over to give your hand a comforting squeeze. “Hey, don’t cry about it. I’ll be okay, really.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” You swipe angrily at the moisture gathering in your eyes. “It’s not fair, Mick. It’s just not fair at all.”

He levels you with a look that’s decades older than his years. “Life rarely is. You know that as well as I do.”

You fall silent, unable to formulate a response. He’s right, you realize with a pang. The two of you, of all people, should understand that success and failure often go hand-in-hand, even for the most talented competitors.

Pursing your lips, you lean forward and pull Mick into a fierce hug. He tenses for a split second before wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I’m still so proud of you,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my incredible big brother.”

Mick lets out a shaky exhale against your hair. “And you’re the most badass little sister a guy could ask for. Ferrari has no idea what they’re in for.”

You pull back just far enough to meet his eyes, emboldened by the warm affection shining in them.

“Just promise me one thing?” You ask.

He arches an eyebrow quizzically. “What’s that?”

A mischievous grin tugs at your lips. “That you’re not going to take it easy on me whenever you’re back on the grid.”

***

You take a deep breath as you pull your sleek new Ferrari up to the iconic factory in Maranello. This place holds so many memories — some joyful, others bittersweet. Your father cemented himself as a legend here, and you can’t help but feel the weight of that legacy on your shoulders now more than ever.

The door swings open and there stands Fred Vasseur offering you a warm smile. “Y/N, welcome home.”

You return the smile, unable to mask the flood of emotions. “It’s good to be back, Fred.”

He gestures for you to follow him inside. “I’m sure this place brings back quite a few memories.”

“You have no idea,” you murmur, taking in the familiar sights and smells. The rosso corsa that coats every surface, the scent of machinery and high-octane fuel … it’s intoxicating.

A tiny you runs through the hallways, giggling madly as your frantic mother tries to catch up. “Mick! Y/N! Get back here this instant!”

Mick peeks out from behind a workbench, sticking his tongue out at Gina, who playfully swats at him. You spot the perfect hiding spot — a massive green recycling bin tucked in the corner ...

“Y/N? Are you still with me?” Fred’s voice breaks you from your reverie.

You shake your head. “Sorry, got a bit lost in thought there. This place just … feels like stepping into the past.”

Fred nods knowingly. “I can only imagine. But today is about your future with the team.” He leads you through the winding corridors, pointing out various departments. “Over here is aerodynamics, that hallway takes you to the design labs ...”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Your father’s voice echoes down the corridor, his tone playful but tinged with desperation. You stifle a giggle from your hiding spot as his footsteps draw closer.

“Michael, any luck?” That’s Paolo, one of the mechanics. You chance a peek and see half the team has been enlisted to search for you.

Your dad scrubs a hand over his face. “She’s too good at this game. Should’ve known better than to play hide-and-seek in a place this size.”

You chuckle softly at the memory, prompting a curious look from Fred. “Sorry, just … reminiscing again.”

He gives you an easy grin. “By all means, feel free to share. I’d love to hear some of those old stories.”

You take a breath, composing yourself before launching into the tale. “Well, there was this one time when I was maybe … four or five? Mick and I were causing an unholy ruckus as usual, and Papa suggested a game of hide-and-seek to wear us out. Big mistake on his part.”

Fred’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “Let me guess, you proved to be a master hider?”

“You could say that.” You grin mischievously. “I found this big recycling bin, crawled inside, and stayed completely silent while the whole team tore the place apart looking for me. Papa was just about to call in the overalls for backup when Paolo finally peeked in the bin.”

Fred throws his head back with a hearty laugh. “I can just picture your poor father’s face when they found you! He must’ve been both relieved and completely exasperated.”

You nod. “Oh, he wore that particular blend of emotions often when we were young terrors around here.”

The two of you continue chatting amicably as Fred shows you around the various facilities — the simulator room, the engine workshop, even the gym and physiotherapy center. With each new area unveiled, another flood of nostalgia washes over you.

You and Mick sprint into the wide-open workshop, engines and miscellaneous car pieces scattered all around. Gina is closing in, her longer legs giving her an advantage.

“Got you now, you little gremlins!” She scoops Mick up with one arm, then turns her sights on you.

You let out a shriek of laughter, dodging around a massive piece of equipment as your mother joins the chase. “Come here, Maus! It’s time for your nap!”

You shake your head furiously. “No nap! No nap!”

Corinna’s hand finally snags the back of your shirt, and you erupt into a fit of giggles as she pulls you into a hug ...

“That’s some smile you’ve got going there,” Fred notes with a wry grin. “I take it another happy memory?”

You give an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. Just … remembering how this place used to be our personal jungle gym. Mick, Gina, and I would run absolute loops around Mama while she tried to wrangle us for nap time.”

Fred chuckles fondly. “I can picture three tiny terrors leaving chaos in their wake.” His expression softens. “It must be incredibly special to be back here after all these years. To follow in your father’s footsteps like this.”

You swallow hard against the swell of emotions. “It’s … overwhelming, if I’m being honest. But in the best possible way.” You glance around at the familiar setting with new eyes. “These halls practically raised me. And now … now I get to write my own chapter here.”

Fred gives your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve got a long road ahead, but I have complete faith you’ll make us all proud, Y/N.”

You straighten your shoulders, giving him a determined nod. “I’m ready.”

As you follow him further into the factory, you can’t help but revel in the rush of coming full circle. Yes, this team, this place, is indelibly woven into your childhood. But now … now it’s time to create new memories.

To race.

To win.

To become a legend.

***

The crowd outside the Ferrari headquarters swells as you emerge from the famous red doors for the first time as an official Scuderia Ferrari driver. Shouts and cheers erupt from every direction, fans pressing forward eagerly with pens and photos clutched in their hands.

“Over here, Y/N!”

“Un selfie, per favore!”

“Can you sign this for my daughter?”

You plaster on a polite smile, trying to graciously oblige as many autograph and photo requests as possible. But the throngs only grow more insistent, hands grabbing at you from all angles as the crowd closes in. Your heart races and you feel yourself starting to panic at the lack of personal space.

“Per favore, let her breathe!” An insistent voice cuts through the commotion in lightly accented Italian.

The crowd parts slightly as a familiar, lean figure pushes through — your new teammate. His green eyes meet yours with a reassuring look as he plants himself firmly by your side.

“Give her some space!” Charles barks out in English this time. “She can’t breathe!”

You shoot him a grateful glance as the fans reluctantly take a step back. Charles gently takes your arm and pulls you out of the scrum.

“Sorry about that,” he says with an apologetic smile, running a hand through his tousled brown hair. “I know how intense they can be around here.”

“No, thank you,” you reply earnestly. “I was about two seconds away from an anxiety attack.”

Charles chuckles. “Well, we can’t have the new driver cracking under pressure on day one.”

You make a face at his teasing remark. “Watch it, pretty boy.”

Laughing, Charles puts his arm around your shoulders in a friendly gesture. “Come on, I know just the place to escape the madness for a bit. Dinner’s on me.”

He guides you across the plaza and down a side street to a cozy trattoria — Ristorante Montana, known as the unofficial “Ferrari restaurant” frequented by team members. As you enter, a stout woman with a warm, welcoming smile emerges from the back.

“Ah, Charles! Welcome back. And this must be ...” Her eyes widen as they land on you. “Oh, la piccola principessa is all grown up!”

Flustered, you open your mouth to respond, but the woman has already swept you up in a tight embrace.

“Rossella, you’re smothering the poor girl!” A elderly man’s voice calls out in amused rebuke.

“Hush, Maurizio, and pour us some wine!” Rossella releases you and holds you at arm’s length, beaming. “Michael’s little girl, all woman now. I’ll never forget the first time your father brought you in here as a bambina.”

She gestures to a framed photo hanging on the wall of a much younger Rossella standing next to Michael, who is holding a grinning toddler — unmistakably you.

“He was so proud,” Rossella continues misty-eyed. “Just like I know he would be of you today, following in your father’s footsteps.”

You swallow hard, touched by the warm welcome and memory. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Charles watching you with a soft smile.

Rossella shifts gears abruptly, all business. “Now, what will you two have? The usual for you, Charles? And for you, la principessa, I insist you try the gnocchi al ragú. Just like my nonna used to make it.”

As Rossella whisks off to the kitchen, Maurizio appears with a bottle of deep red wine and two glasses.

“To new beginnings,” he toasts with a wink, pouring for you and Charles.

You raise your glass to clink against Charles’ with a smile. “New beginnings.”

Over pasta and wine, you and Charles fall into an easy rapport, bantering back and forth as the weight of the evening’s earlier stress dissipates. You find yourself repeatedly distracted by the dimpled grin that lights up his face whenever he laughs at one of your quips.

“So is this a regular hazing ritual you put all the rookies through?” You ask innocently. “Get them away from the crowds and ply them with wine so they’re too drunk to be nervous on day one?”

Charles barks out a laugh. “You’ve found me out! Although I do seem to recall my own initiation being a lot harder. Maybe I’m going soft in my old age.”

“Old age? You’re what …12?” You retort, eyes dancing with mirth.

The waiter arrives with the dessert menu, but Rossella shoos him away.

“No, no menu. I’m bringing you the tiramisu to share. My secret recipe.”

Charles groans in delight. “You’re a legend, Rossella.”

She pats his cheek affectionately before disappearing again. A comfortable silence falls between you and Charles as you each take a bite of the rich, velvety tiramisu.

“Mmmm, this is literally heaven,” you murmur happily.

Charles hums in agreement around another forkful.

Your eyes catch movement out of the corner and you turn to see Rossella returning, carrying a large framed photo under her arm. She sets it down on the empty chair next to you with a proud grin.

It’s a glamor shot of you from a recent photoshoot for Vogue Italia — hair and makeup impeccable, lips parted in a secret smile as you gaze directly at the camera.

Rossella rests a hand on your shoulder. “For me, bellissima? So we can hang la principessa right next to il padre.”

Touched, you take the proffered sharpie and scribble out a quick inscription before signing your name with a flourish at the bottom.

“Grazie mille,” Rossella breathes, throwing an arm around you to squeeze you against her ample frame. “You’ve made this old heart very happy tonight.”

When she finally releases you, you see Charles watching you both with a soft, almost wistful expression. You raise your eyebrows at him in question, but he just shakes his head with a smile.

As you and Charles prepare to depart, Rossella calls out once more. “You come back soon, eh principessa? I have more pictures to collect.”

You throw her a wink over your shoulder. “D’accordo, d’accordo. We’ll be back soon!”

Out on the street, you pause, conscious of the evening rapidly drawing to a close. You turn to Charles, studying him properly for the first time. His deep green eyes crinkle at the corners as he meets your gaze.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely. “Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t swooped in to rescue me back there.”

Charles shrugs nonchalantly, but his expression is kind. “We look out for our own in Ferrari. That’s what teammates are for, no?”

A beat passes, the momentary tension thickening between you. Then Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat.

“Anyway, I should let you get going before your handlers send out a search party. Need me to call you a car?”

“No, no I’m good,” you reply quickly, trying to mask your disappointment at the night ending. “My performance coach has the car around front.”

You start to turn away, then impulsively pivot back. Rising up on your toes, you throw your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a brief, platonic hug.

“Seriously, thank you,” you murmur in his ear. “For everything.”

As you pull back, your faces are just inches apart. Charles’ eyes are warm, his gaze intense. For a dizzying moment, you’re certain he’s going to kiss you. Then just as suddenly, the moment passes and he steps back with a friendly smile.

“Anytime, princesse. I’ll see you bright and early next week for our first time running the SF-23 on the simulator.”

With a wink, he turns and saunters off down the street, hands shoved in his pockets in that effortlessly cool way of his. You let out a long breath, flustered and exhilarated all at once.

Your performance coach has indeed been waiting with the car, looking mildly concerned. “Everything alright?”

You flash her a bright smile, practically skipping to the car. “It is now, Mara. It absolutely is.”

Your first day as a Ferrari driver was certainly more than you bargained for. But as you settle into the plush leather seats, you can’t wipe the silly grin off your face. Something tells you this new chapter with the Scuderia is going to be an adventure — in more ways than one.

As Mara pulls away from the curb, you catch a final glimpse of Charles striding confidently down the street. Even from a distance, you can make out the dimpled smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Leaning back against the headrest, you think back to the memory of his arm slung casually around your shoulders and sigh contentedly. Yes, you have a feeling this is just the beginning of what’s shaping up to be a very interesting partnership with Charles Leclerc.

***

Sebastian looks over the wine list, pretending to be engrossed in selecting the perfect vintage as he peers over the top of the menu. His eyes are fixated on the entrance to the upscale Italian restaurant, waiting for Charles and you to arrive.

This had better work, he thinks to himself. The two of you have been making googly eyes at each other for months now, but are both too stubborn to make a move.

Finally, the hostess leads Charles and you into the dining room. Sebastian ducks down, pulling the brim of his fedora lower over his face and adjusting the fake mustache he’s wearing as a disguise. He watches as the hostess shows Charles and you to an intimate table for two by the window, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating your faces.

“There must be some mistake,” Charles says, looking around in confusion. “I was under the impression we were meeting Sebastian here for dinner?”

You look equally perplexed. “That’s what he told me too. He said to meet at 8 o’clock sharp.”

“Well this is just awkward,” Charles runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Should we wait for him or ...”

Before you can respond, the waiter arrives with a basket of bread and butter. “Good evening, my name is Gerardo and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Actually, we’re still waiting on-” Charles begins, but the waiter cuts him off.

“Ah yes, Mr. Vettel asked me to inform you that he will be unable to join this evening after all. A last minute obligation came up. He insisted I take excellent care of you both and that the evening is on his treat.” Gerardo smiles broadly. “So what will you have to drink?”

Sebastian smirks to himself at his cleverly orchestrated ruse from his secluded table in the back corner. He watches with bated breath as a flustered Charles and you exchange an awkward look.

“I’ll have a glass of Chianti,” you say finally, breaking the tension.

“Make that two,” Charles adds with a resigned sigh.

As Gerardo heads off to grab your drinks, an uncomfortable silence falls over the table. “You know, we don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Charles says, ever the gentleman. “I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding.”

“Don’t be silly,” you reply, offering him a warm smile that makes Sebastian’s heart melt a little. “It would be rude to ruin the evening Sebastian so carefully planned, even if he’s not actually here to enjoy it.”

Charles visibly relaxes at your acceptance of the situation. “You’re right, of course. If it’s a free dinner, we would be fools to turn that down!”

You both share a laugh, finally breaking the ice. Sebastian feels a swell of pride watching the two of you start to let your guards down around each other.

Over the next hour or so, Sebastian is delighted to see Charles and you become more at ease, trading jokes and stories over several delectable courses of pasta, veal, and freshly baked focaccia. He’s never seen either of you look so lighthearted and carefree, nor has he witnessed two people connect on such an organic, genuine level before. It’s positively magical to behold.

Gerardo arrives once more, this time bearing a decadent slice of torta della nonna for you to share for dessert. “Compliments of the house,” he announces with a wink before departing.

You immediately dig into the lemony confection with gusto. “Oh my god, this is dangerously good,” you moan through a mouthful of pastry cream and flaky crust.

Charles tries and fails to stifle a laugh at your unabashed enthusiasm. “You’ve got a little ...” he gestures vaguely at the corners of your mouth.

“What? Where?” You ask, attempting to wipe the stray crumbs and smears of powdered sugar from your cheeks.

“Here, let me,” Charles says softly, reaching across the table with his cloth napkin.

Sebastian watches with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest, as Charles tenderly swipes the napkin along your lips, his thumb grazing your cheek in the process. The moment seems to last an eternity, the two of you locked in each other’s smoldering gaze.

Then, ever so slowly, Charles leans across the table towards you. Sebastian can scarcely breathe as he witnesses the magnetic pull drawing the two of you together. This is it, this is finally happening, he marvels silently.

Sebastian lets out an inadvertent yelp of glee and instantly slaps his hands over his mouth. A table of nearby diners turns to gawk at the strange mustached man.

“Ahem, sorry! Hairball,” Sebastian rasps out in a terrible Italian accent. He slinks down in the booth, burning with embarrassment as the other patrons slowly turn away with disgusted looks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Charles and you also turn towards the commotion, the heated moment effectively ruined. Damn it, he was so close!

You and Charles eventually turn back towards each other, the awkwardness having returned. “We should, uh, probably ask for the check soon,” Charles mumbles, unable to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve got an early training session in the morning anyway,” you reply, the disappointment evident in your voice as you stare down at the table.

Inwardly cursing his rotten luck, Sebastian motions for the bill and slips his black credit card into the folder when Gerardo brings it. He knows the only way to redeem this night is to insist you and Charles stay for one more drink. Maybe add a little more wine confidence to help reignite that spark you both nearly combusted over just moments ago.

As Gerardo whisks away to process Sebastian’s payment, the older German steels his nerves. He removes his ridiculous disguise, straightens his tie, and makes his way over to your table with purpose.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Sebastian asks with an exaggerated wink as he reaches you. “It appears Mr. Leclerc and Miss Schumacher were stood up this evening. For shame!”

“Ah, Seb!” Charles laughs in surprise at seeing his friend and former teammate. “We should have known you were behind this madness.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “You’re a menace! I can’t believe you tricked us like that.”

Sebastian claps his hands together and flashes you both a devilish grin. “What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic who cannot abide two clearly smitten people tiptoeing around each other any longer. Now, Gerardo is going to bring you the finest Barolo they have, on my dime, and you are going to remedy this sexual tension situation once and for all over another bottle or three!”

Charles opens his mouth to protest, but you laugh delightedly and nod towards Sebastian. “You know what, I could go for another drink. What do you say, Charles?”

The older Ferrari driver seems to wilt under the weight of your brilliant smile, Sebastian can’t fault the man for that. “Ah, what the hell,” Charles shrugs, throwing his arm around the back of your chair. “Let’s see where this night takes us!”

Sebastian settles in, pouring you all generous glasses of the deep ruby wine when Gerardo delivers it. He may be getting on in years, but his matchmaking job has only just begun. One way or another, he’s determined to ensure his two protégés quit stumbling over each other and finally discover the romance that’s been blossoming under their noses all along.

Sipping his wine, Sebastian gazes at you and Charles, sees the tenderness flickering in both your eyes as you lean in closer together over the candlelight. He smiles contentedly to himself.

Mission accomplished.

***

The paddock is mostly deserted at this late hour, the muffled sounds of the teams packing up drifting in from the garages. You linger near the Ferrari motorhome, watching Charles sitting alone on a stack of tires, shoulders slumped. He’s been increasingly withdrawn these past few days leading up to the Japanese Grand Prix.

You approach slowly, not wanting to startle him. “Charles? You okay?”

He looks up, managing a small smile when he sees you. “Hey, mon amour.”

There’s a weariness to his voice that tugs at your heart. You take a seat beside him, letting your arm brush against his in a subtle show of support. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Charles is silent for a long moment, pulling his helmet off and turning it over in his hands. “It’s Suzuka,” he finally says, so softly you have to lean in to hear him. “Being back here … it’s difficult.”

Your brow furrows. Right, this is where Jules Bianchi crashed, his accident eventually proving fatal. Charles had been incredibly close with his mentor and godfather. “I can’t even imagine how painful this must be.” You cover his hand with yours. “Having to race on the same track ...”

“I relive that day over and over.” Charles’s accented voice is thick with emotion. “I can still see the footage of his car slamming into the crane, like it’s burned into my mind. He was my friend, my godfather, like a brother to me. And now every year, I have to come back to this place that took him from us far too soon.” He squeezes his eyes shut, a stray tear escaping.

“Oh, Charles ...” You wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. His body is rigid at first before melting against you, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You hold him tightly as his breath hitches with suppressed sobs, your own eyes stinging. How many times has he bottled up this grief, putting on a brave face for the world?

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, stroking his back. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve carried all these years. But Jules wouldn’t want you torturing yourself like this.” You pull away enough to frame his face with your hands, meeting his reddened eyes. “He’d want you to keep living, to keep pursuing your dream that he helped nurture. He’d be so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

Charles manages a watery smile, covering one of your hands with his. “You’re right. Thank you, chérie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leans in, resting his forehead against yours with a shuddering sigh. “I just miss him so much some days. Like an ache I can’t shake.”

“I know.” You brush away the dampness on his cheeks with your thumbs. “Believe me, I understand that ache all too well.”

A crease forms between Charles’s brows as he regards you intently. “Your papa.”

You give a solemn nod. “Everyone talks about him like he’s gone. But he’s not, he’s still here, still breathing. It’s just … he’s not the same man I grew up with anymore.” You blink back tears of your own. “Sometimes I’ll see flashes that remind me so much of how Papa used to be. And then that illusion is shattered and I’m grieving all over again for the person he was.”

Charles’ arms wrap around you fully, tucking your head under his chin. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. Seeing those glimpses of the man he was, only to have that hope ripped away.” He presses his lips to the crown of your head. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

You let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, definitely doesn’t feel like it most days.” Pulling away, you try for a smile. “But we Schumachers are fighters. We don’t stay down for long.”

“That’s my girl.” Charles grins, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m lucky to have you by my side through all of this craziness. I don’t know what I’d do without your support, especially this weekend.”

“Are you kidding?” You turn to fully face him, clasping his hands in yours. “Charles, you’ve been my rock too, you know that? Signing with Ferrari this year, following in my father’s footsteps … the pressure has been immense. But you’ve never let me crumble under it. You’re always there with a laugh or a hug or some silly joke to make me smile even on the hardest days.”

Charles’s grin turns lopsided, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always makes your heart flutter. “Well, someone has to keep that ego of yours from inflating too much, future champion.” He leans in until his lips are a mere breath from yours. “But in all seriousness, we’re in this together, okay? No matter what the future holds, I’ll always have your back.”

“I know,” you murmur, feeling his words like a soothing balm over the parts of your heart still aching for your father as you once knew him. “And I’ll always have yours. We’re a team, on and off the track.” You close the distance between you, kissing him deeply.

Charles returns the kiss with fervor, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you close. The worries plaguing you both seem to temporarily fade into the background amid the warmth and solidity of his embrace. When you finally break apart, breathless, his emerald gaze holds an intensity that steals the air from your lungs in the best way.

“Je t’aime,” he murmurs, the endearment like a vow falling from his lips. “No matter what happens out there tomorrow, or any other race day, that will never change. You and me against the world, princesse.”

You flash him a coy smile, feeling desire begin to simmer low in your belly. “Is that a promise, Mr. Leclerc?”

“Mmm, I can make it one if you’d like.” Charles waggles his eyebrows, making you giggle as his hands roam freely over your back and sides, pulling you flush against him. His voice drops to a husky whisper. “Maybe I can find more convincing ways to pledge my devotion once we’re back at the hotel.”

“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you say breathily, leaning in to nip at his lower lip in a way that makes him groan. “Though if memory serves, I seem to recall you saying something about honoring the team’s curfew tonight?” You trail openmouthed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw. “Wouldn’t want to be … sleep deprived before the race.”

Charles’s fingers flex against your hips as he lets out a shuddering breath. “You’re really testing my willpower here.”

“Payback for all those times you’ve tortured me.” You punctuate the statement with a sharp nip to the sensitive skin below his ear, making him jerk against you with a strangled sound. Pulling back, you smirk at the glazed look in his eyes. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

He blinks slowly, then his gaze narrows in a way that makes heat flare across your skin. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that later.” His voice is low, almost a growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“I look forward to it.” You lean in until your lips are nearly brushing his again.

“Tease,” Charles accuses, though his kiss quickly swallows any further retort.

You lose yourself in the press of his mouth, the exploring glide of his hands over your body, the undeniable chemistry that still sometimes takes your breath away. When you finally break apart, gasping for air, you stay wrapped in each other’s arms, foreheads resting together.

“Thank you,” Charles murmurs after a long beat of comfortable silence. “For always knowing how to pull me out of my own head. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“That’s what partners are for,” you say simply, brushing back the silken strands of chestnut hair falling over his forehead. His eyes are so warm, so full of love and adoration, you feel it envelop you like a cozy blanket. “I’ll always be here to lean on, just like you are for me.”

Charles catches your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. “And I’m grateful for that every single day. Facing the good times and bad, together.” His thumb strokes over your knuckles. “I know Suzuka will never be easy, not with the weight of the memories here. But you make the burden feel lighter. Like no matter what, I’ll be okay as long as I have you by my side.”

You lean in, brushing a featherlight kiss across his lips. “Always. No matter what the future holds, you’re stuck with me, Leclerc.”

A slow, utterly content smile spreads across his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He steals another lingering kiss before glancing toward the pit area, where the last few stragglers are packing up for the night. “As much as I’d love to keep you all to myself, I suppose we should try to get some rest before tomorrow.”

Sliding off the tire stack, he offers you his hand, that warm gleam still dancing in his forest-colored eyes. “Though maybe we could indulge in a long, hot shower first? You know, to … unwind after such an emotionally draining evening.”

You raise an eyebrow at his transparent attempt at nonchalance, but can’t help a smirk from tugging at your lips. “Why, Mr. Leclerc, are you propositioning me?”

“Would that be so terrible?” He tugs you into his arms, leaving a trail of teasing kisses along your jaw. “After all, we did have quite the … charged conversation just now. I’d hate for all that pent-up tension to distract us on track tomorrow.”

You let out a breathless giggle as his wandering hands and lips leave tingles across your skin. “Well, when you put it that way … I suppose a nice, relaxing shower could be just what we need to clear our heads.” Looping your arms around his neck, you meet his heated gaze through lowered lashes. “Lead the way, liebling.”

Charles’ responding grin is nothing short of wolfish. “With pleasure.” Scooping you up in his arms, he heads for the parking lot at a swift pace, leaving the weight of Suzuka and its ghosts behind for the night.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you bring your Ferrari across the finish line, tires smoking from the incredible pace. Your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio, congratulating you, but the words are drowned out by the thunderous cheers echoing around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.

You can hardly believe it. Your first season with the Scuderia and you’ve just won the Italian Grand Prix — on the hallowed ground that your father once ruled. The sea of fans decked out in red is a sight to behold, celebrating wildly as you complete the cool-down lap.

Pulling into parc fermé, you kill the engine, the high-pitched whine slowly dying away. Undoing the straps, you clamber out, still trying to process what just happened. This is really real.

“You!”

The familiar voice makes you turn. It’s Charles, beaming from ear-to-ear despite settling for second place today. He pulls you into a massive hug, squeezing you tightly.

“I can’t believe you just did that! Amazing drive!”

You laugh, giddy with joy and adrenaline. “I still can’t believe it either! Everything just … clicked.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Charles chuckles, ruffling your sweat-damp hair. “You were incredible out there. Absolutely brilliant.”

Hearing the praise from your boyfriend means everything. You know how hard he’s worked, how much he’s sacrificed to get this far. And he’s still your biggest supporter.

The two of you finally pull apart as the rest of the team makes their presence known, congratulating you with bearhugs and massive pats on the back. You did it — you brought the victory home for Ferrari at the Temple of Speed.

After the chaos of the post-race celebrations dies down a little, it’s time for the podium ceremony. You can’t wait to stand up there, basking in the adulation of the wildly passionate Tifosi. As you make your way out with Charles and the third place finisher, the crowd’s cheers swell to a new eardrum-bursting level.

Climbing the steps, you take your spot on the top level, heart racing as you look out over the endless sea of fans. The air is filled with brilliant red smoke, passionate flag-wavers creating mesmerizing patterns. You’ve seen Grands Prix in Italy before, but being up here, having actually won — it’s on another level entirely.

Speeches are made, anthems are played, and then it’s time to crack open the podium champagne. As the bottles are picked up, a rolling chant starts building in the grandstands:

“La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”

The sound shakes you to your core. Tears instantly spring to your eyes.

Charles, beside you on the second step, grins and nudges you. “Listen to them! You’ve done it — you’ve made them fall in love with you just like they did with your father.”

Looking down at him with misty eyes, you mouth, “Thank you,” so overwhelmed that you can’t speak. He slips an arm around your waist, pulling you close. The two of you share a soft kiss as the chanting grows louder and louder.

As you pull back, gazing out over the surging tide of humanity, faces beaming up at you in adoration, it finally sinks in. This moment — winning at Monza for Ferrari, with Charles by your side, the Tifosi embracing you wholeheartedly — is beyond anything you ever could have dreamed.

The emotions pour out in waves of joy and pride and disbelief. You raise your bottle high, echoing the chants and cheering your heart out to the crowd. They roar back even louder, feeding off your energy in the way that only this group of diehard fans can.

Once the champagne showers subside, giddy fans whistling at you and Charles canoodling on the podium, it’s time to head back down. But the celebrations are just getting started. The team wants to keep the party going.

On the drive over to Maranello, you find yourself sandwiched in the backseat between Charles and your race engineer, Ricky. Everyone is grinning like maniacs, high on the thrill of victory, singing drinking songs at the top of their lungs.

“Solo per lei! Principessa di Monza!” Ricky bellows, gently elbowing you. The rest join in, filling the car with the chant of “Only for her! Princess of Monza!” You can’t stop giggling, leaning into Charles, deliriously happy.

Once you finally roll up to the factory, the party spills out of the car and into the streets. The entire workforce has turned out, waving huge Ferrari flags, beating drums and sounding air horns in celebration. You’re immediately swarmed, being passed from hug to hug as champagne is sprayed in joyful arcs.

They finally manage to sweep you, Charles, and most of your garages inside the factory, where long banquet tables have been set up in the main hall. An enormous cheer goes up as you enter, sparkling wine sloshing from hastily poured glasses all around you.

The meal that follows is a total blur — amazing food, flowing alcohol, raucous toasts, and the happiest pandemonium you’ve ever witnessed. You keep getting tugged from conversation to conversation, everyone wanting to hear how the race played out from your lips. Charles sticks by your side the whole time, looking on with sheer pride.

At one point, you end up going shot for shot with Fred Vasseur, the team principal pouring vodka like his job depends on it. “La mia principessa!” He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. “You’ve made us all so proud today!”

He hoists his glass. “To our Princess! The Princess of Monza!”

The chant starts up again all around you. “La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”

You beam at them all, squeezing Fred’s hand. No words can describe this feeling, being embraced so completely by your team — your family. This is what you’ve dreamed about since you were a little girl. Following in your father’s footsteps, bringing glory to Ferrari, carrying on the legend.

The party rages on long into the night. At some point, you lose track of time completely, delirious with exhaustion from the whirlwind of emotion.

You come around for a moment, blinking in the dim glow of the factory lights. There’s quiet rumbles of laughter around you, echoing off the walls. Looking around blearily, you realize you’ve been tucked into a makeshift bed fashioned from a pile of Ferrari t-shirts, nestled in one of the car assembly spaces.

Charles is there too, cradled against your side, one arm wrapped protectively around you. The rest of the team — your PR officers, engineers, mechanics, everyone — is strewn about in similar nests, all of them totally conked out.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle deeper into Charles’ embrace, feeling his lips brush the top of your head. This bizarre, wonderful scene seems to encapsulate everything about being part of the Ferrari family. It’s chaotic and overwhelming and unlike anything else in the world.

But most of all, it’s home.

As you start to drift back to sleep, savoring the lingering scent of champagne and motor oil, one final chant echoes in your head:

La principessa di Monza.

La principessa di Ferrari.

***

11 Months Later

The last few laps feel like they’re happening in slow motion. Every turn, every gear shift, every tiny input to the steering wheel is magnified tenfold as the circuits count down. The pressure is immense, but you’ve been here before. You can do this.

“Stay calm, stay focused,” your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio. “The calculations look good. Just bring it home steady.”

Nodding to yourself, you downshift entering the stadium section, the roar of the massive crowd surrounding the Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez swelling in your ears. This is it — your chance to join the likes of motorsport’s greatest heroes by winning the Formula 1 World Championship.

Your first victory at Monza, being crowned the “Principessa di Ferrari” by the adoring Tifosi, was a dream come true. But this … this is what you’ve worked towards since you were old enough to understand what your father achieved. To etch your name into the history books forever.

The laps tick by agonizingly. Every time the pitboard comes into view, your heart rate spikes. But you’ve got a comfortable gap to second place, managing the race perfectly. Just a few more corners now.

“Final lap, final lap,” your engineer calls out. “Looking brilliant. Stay comfortable and you’ve got this!”

You suck in a deep breath to steady your nerves. Out of the sweeping Curve 3 and onto the pit straight, the crowd’s thunderous cheers are reaching fever pitch. You can see the seas of red-clad fans absolutely losing their minds, knowing the woman they idolize is about to achieve immortality.

Crossing the finish line, you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding for what feels like ages. The emotion is overwhelming — a combination of pure elation, disbelief, and total exhaustion.

You did it.

World Champion at last!

You cruise around, yelling unintelligibly into the radio as the celebrations kick off around the circuit. There’s confetti in the air, smoke flares going off in brilliant shades of red, and a full-throated roar that could probably be heard all the way back in Europe.

Pulling into parc fermé, you switch off the car, letting the weight of the moment sink in. Tears of joy prick at your eyes as the magnitude of your achievement hits home. Ever since you were a little girl, running around watching your papa, this has been the ultimate dream for you.

And now, it’s finally happened. You’re a World Champion. Just like him.

The first person to reach you is Charles. He comes sprinting over from his own car, bounding past the marshals without a second look. One glimpse of the huge smile plastered across his face is all it takes for you to dissolve into giggles and delirious tears.

“You did it! You brilliant, brilliant woman, you did it!” He shouts, grabbing you up in his arms and spinning you around in a whirlwind hug.

“I can’t believe it, Charles! It felt like a dream … like it wasn’t really happening!”

You’re both laughing and crying at the same time, drunk on the euphoria of the moment. Clutching each other tightly, you press your foreheads together, trying in vain to compose yourselves.

“I’m so proud of you,” Charles murmurs, gazing at you with adoring eyes. “You worked so incredibly hard for this. You deserve everything.”

Surging forward, you capture his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. For a few brief moments, the two of you are alone, lost in the depth of your emotions and your all-encompassing love for each other. Nothing else in the world matters but this perfect second frozen in time.

You finally break apart, breathless, when the rest of the team sweeps in to congratulate you. They swarm around in a laughing, whooping mass, jumping up and down, hugging, chanting your name over and over.

“To our champion! The Queen!”

The cry comes from Antonio, one of the veteran mechanics who’s been with the team since your papa’s days. He clasps your hands tightly, gazing at you with pride.

“Sei la regina! The Queen of Ferrari!” He hollers over the raucous din, tears shining in his eyes. “Just like your father, you’ll reign forever!”

Your eyes start brimming over again, overwhelmed. The tears roll down your cheeks, smearing streaks of sweat and grime from the race. But you can’t stop beaming.

All at once, the rest of the crew picks up on Antonio’s declaration. Their cheers and chants coalesce into one booming refrain:

“La Re-gi-na! La Re-gi-na!”

The sheer adulation washes over you in waves, every face beaming up at you in utter reverence. You find yourself struggling to take it all in. In a few incredible seasons, you’ve elevated yourself into the realm of legend in their eyes.

Charles wraps his arms around you from behind, steadying you as your knees start to go weak. You can feel his smile radiant against your neck as he cheers and whoops right along with the rest of them.

“You hear them?” He chuckles, kissing your temple. “It’s all for you, mia regina! My Queen.”

Hearing your love, your partner, your other half call you that sets off a fresh round of giggles and sobs. Turning in his embrace, you loop your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply.

When you finally part, you look out over the still-roaring crowd, many of them carrying elaborate signs with intricate drawings depicting you as a regal sovereign. Some have fashioned ornate crowns out of random merch and foam, holding them high. Others set off flares and smoke bombs in Ferrari red.

For a moment, their euphoric cheers fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears. Closing your eyes, you let the enormity of the moment wash over you, embracing the pride and humility and disbelieving joy.

This is your coronation. The new ruler of the Scuderia — la regina di Ferrari.

“La Regina di Ferrari! La Regina del Mondo!”

You can only chuckle in disbelief, Antonio and Ricky carefully taking your hands to hoist you up onto their shoulders in throne-like celebration. Charles is right by your side, standing vigil as your King Consort.

As the party spreads out around you, confetti and smoke filling the air, you look out across the ecstatic crowd. All you see are fervent faces, worshiping you as their new Queen of the World.

It’s a delirious scene that you never, ever could’ve imagined. And yet it feels so natural, so right. Like you were born to be in the center of this storm of jubilation. This is your true home.

And now, you’ve taken your rightful place as its ruler.

Mexico City burns long into the night in tribute to the newly-coronated Queen. Tomorrow, the party will likely continue all the way back to Maranello. But in this moment, you’re lost in the swirl of ecstasy, allowing yourself to be swept up in the currents of adoration.

La Regina di Ferrari.

La Regina del Mondo.

***

Eight Years Later

Jules can barely contain his excitement as you and Charles help him into the little red race suit. He’s practically vibrating with energy, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Easy there, petit coureur,” Charles chuckles, ruffling Jules’ hair affectionately. “We’ll get you suited up and on the track soon enough.”

“I’m gonna beat everyone!” Jules declares confidently. You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“That’s my boy,” you say with a wink. “Just like your Papa and me.”

Charles grins and pulls Jules into a hug. “We’ll see about that, won’t we? Today’s just for fun though, remember? No official points or anything.”

“I know, I know,” Jules says impatiently. “But I’m still gonna win!”

You laugh and swing him up into your arms, peppering his face with kisses until he squeals with delight. “Whatever you say, liebling. Now let’s get you out on that track!”

The three of you make your way out to the karting circuit, hand-in-hand. You can already see a small crowd starting to form along the fences, phones and cameras at the ready. A familiar scenario, even at such a low-key local event.

“Mama, Papa, look!” Jules points excitedly. “Those people want to take pictures!”

“That’s right, schatzi,” you say gently. “Your Papa and I are pretty well known in motorsports.”

“Like movie stars?” His eyes go wide.

Charles laughs. “Something like that, I suppose. More like … really famous racecar drivers.”

“Whoa ...” Jules seems to be processing this new realization. “You’re the best ever, right? The bestest?”

You share an amused look with Charles. “Well, we’ve had our fair share of success,” you hedge.

“Your mother is a multi-time World Champion,” Charles says proudly. “As am I. We did pretty okay, I think.”

“Woooaahh!” Jules looks absolutely awestruck, like his little mind has been blown. It’s both adorable and bittersweet — your own child, only just now grasping the level of your accomplishments and fame.

The crowd has grown considerably by the time you reach the pit area, people pressing against the barriers in hopes of getting a glimpse of the royal family of Maranello. A small team of event staff try valiantly to keep order, but it’s a losing battle.

“Excuse me! Y/N! Can we get a photo?”

“Charles! Over here, please!”

“Oh my god, is that little Jules? He’s so cute!”

Jules clings a bit closer to you and Charles, startled by the commotion. You pull him protectively against your side.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “Just some fans who are excited to see us.”

Charles gives the crowd a regretful smile and a small wave before ushering you both past the security team and into the pit area. The calmer, more controlled setting seems to ease Jules’ nerves.

“Why were all those people yelling and taking pictures?” He asks with a small frown.

“Like I said, we’re pretty famous racers,” Charles explains patiently. “A lot of people know who we are and want our autographs or photos with us.”

“Like celebrities!” Jules says, the admiring light returning to his eyes.

You laugh and ruffle his hair again. “Something like that, yeah. Your Papa and I have had a very successful racing career over the years.”

“The best careers,” Charles amends with a wink at you. “Multiple world titles each.”

“World titles?” Jules looks utterly baffled by the concept. “Like … the best in the whole world?”

“Exactly,” you confirm, feeling that familiar swell of pride. “We were the fastest drivers in the world, for a few years at least.”

“Whooaa ...” Jules seems torn between awe and disbelief. “You’re like … superheroes!”

You and Charles both crack up at the adorable comparison.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Charles laughs, “but I suppose to some we come pretty close, eh?”

He scoops Jules up and swings him around, making him shriek with laughter. You watch them with a content smile, suddenly aware of how blessed you are to have this life — your incredible husband, your precious son, the career successes you both achieved. It’s more than you ever could have dreamed.

“Alright,” Papa says, setting Jules back down. “Why don’t you go grab your kart and we’ll get you out on the track? Think you can take on the world champions?”

Jules gives a determined nod, that familiar fire blazing in his eyes — the same look you’ve seen in your husband’s familiar green ones a thousand times over the years. “You bet! I’ll show you how it’s done!”

With one last hair ruffle, you send him scampering off excitedly. Charles slides an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” He murmurs against your temple. “So much like us at that age. I can already tell he’s going to be a hell of a driver someday.”

You lean into his embrace with a contented sigh. “He is … and just look at how the crowd reacted to him. He’s barely grasped that we’re famous, and now he’s already getting mobbed himself. Our little star in the making.”

Charles makes a rueful sound. “We’re going to have to get used to that, I suppose.”

“Oh, I think we can handle it,” you say lightly. “We’ve had plenty of practice being in the spotlight, after all.”

He laughs and drops a kiss to your hair. “That’s true enough. As long as we stick together, we can get through anything.”

“Exactly.” You turn in his arms to face him properly, cupping his jaw tenderly. “You, me, Jules … nothing else matters as long as we have each other.”

Charles’ eyes are warm with devotion as he gazes down at you. “My soulmate. My family. How did I ever get so lucky?”

He leans in to kiss you, slow and sweet, the rest of the world temporarily fading away. You lose yourself in the familiar comfort of his embrace, the love you share-

“Ewww, gross! Stop kissing!”

You break apart with a laugh to find Jules making over-exaggerated gagging noises nearby.

“And the moment’s ruined,” Charles teases, keeping an arm looped around your waist.

You bend down to Jules’ eye level with a mock stern look. “You just wait until you’re all grown up with a sweetheart of your own. Then you’ll understand.”

He scrunches up his nose theatrically. “Never! Girls are gross!”

You and Charles share an amused look.

“If you say so,” Charles chuckles. “Now let’s get that kart fired up.”

Jules’ entire demeanor shifts in an instant, that fierce competitiveness surfacing once again. He scrambles into the cockpit of his little kart and takes firm hold of the wheel, looking suddenly years beyond his age.

“You’re going down!” He declares brazenly. “I’ll leave you both in the dust!”

And just like that, the proud parents are replaced by your familiar racing mentalities — the thrill of competition, the desire to win. You share a conspiratorial grin with Charles.

“Is that so?” He taunts playfully. “In that case, no more taking it easy on you two.”

You bend down to kiss Jules’ forehead, unable to resist a parting quip. “Promise you won’t be sad … because Mama always wins.”

With that, Charles heads off to grab his own kart, leaving you and Jules alone for a brief moment. He looks up at you with shining eyes.

“You’re my hero, Mama,” he says simply. “And Papa too. I wanna be just like you when I grow up!”

You feel your heart swell fit to burst, filled with more love than you could possibly put into words. Bending down, you pull your beautiful little boy into a fierce hug, eyes shining with unshed happy tears.

“Oh liebling … you already are. You’re everything we could have dreamed of and more.”

You press a lingering kiss to the top of his head, overwhelmed with affection. When you finally pull back, there are indeed tears shining in your eyes.

“Now go show your parents what you’ve got, baby,” you say with a watery smile. “I can’t wait to see you out there.”

Jules gives you a determined nod, eyes blazing with that trademark fire. “You got it, Mama! Get ready to lose!”

With that, he slams down the visor on his helmet and revs the little engine. You step back with a laugh, watching him peel out onto the track with all the confidence and flair of a seasoned pro. Like parents, like son indeed.

By the time Charles rejoins you, his own kart idling beside yours, Jules has already completed a couple of warm up laps. You can’t resist shooting Charles a smug grin.

“Well, well … looks like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He drives just like you.”

Charles snorts, clearly trying to downplay his obvious pride. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s all your genes coming through.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a sudden commotion from the fences draws your attention. The crowd has grown even larger, people pressing against the barriers with raised phones and voices calling out excitedly.

“Oh my god, it’s them!”

“They’re so cute together!!”

“Over here, please! This way!”

You share a resigned look with Charles as event staff rush to try and control the growing swarm.

“This is what it’s going to be like from now on, isn’t it?” You murmur. “Our little family, constantly in the spotlight.”

Charles shrugs, slinging an arm around your shoulders as he watches Jules blaze by. “What else is new? We’ve been there our whole careers. At least this time, we get to share the fame together … as a family.”

You lean into his side with a contented smile. Out on the track, Jules whips past in a blur of determination, completely unbothered by the fawning crowd. Just a little boy living out his dream, regardless of who his parents might be.

“You know what?” You say softly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Charles drops a kiss to your hair as the roar of the crowd and engines swells around you. “Me neither, mon amour. I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

3K notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 2 months ago

Text

DOMESTICATION

MR. GHOSTFACE x F!READER 🔪 1.8K WORDS SUMMARY: He has his way with you while you're stuck. WARNINGS: 18+ Noncon, unsafe PIV, knife/blood, collar. Inspired by this scene and ask 🔪 Divider 🔪 MY FICS

Down on all fours like the prey you were, you tore the cloudy, plastic flap off its hinges and began to squeeze through the little door. You thought to scream but choked on the air you drew in. With your head through the hole, you coughed and glanced around. No one in sight. Fallen leaves tumbled and scraped across the driveway over the muffled sounds of the party.

No one was coming to save you.

You managed to wriggle halfway out, but no further. In the process of trying, your skirt got all bunched up. The cool air of the garage was hitting your ass, and your lace panties with their heart shaped cutout were doing nothing to help.

He had to be enjoying this. Probably admiring his knife with a smug tilt of his mask. Why was he so quiet?

You stopped struggling, taking a moment to catch your breath and think. He should've caught you by now. Was there any chance he left the garage? Any chance he wouldn't kill you?

He didn't have a habit of leaving them alive.

When you began to struggle again, a weak motor droned awake, making your stomach drop. The garage door began to lift, and the bottom edge of it dug into your stomach. Your heart sank with dread. Within seconds you’d likely be dead or mangled. Seconds, IF you were lucky. The thought of him dragging out your demise was even worse. You had seen his crime scenes.

Your knees lifted off the ground as the door made its ascent.

“Please,” you begged, shoes sliding against the floor.

The garage door creaked as it came to a halt. Your feet pedaled in futility, searching for the floor. You lifted your chest, trying to wriggle backwards. The only way out of this cursed little door-–if there even was a way out-–led right to his knife.

“Please, please, I won't run. I'll be good,” you begged through tears.

Silence. Unlike him.

“I'll be good,” you repeated quieter. "Please, Mr. Ghostface."

The motor started again, and you winced. But the door began to lower, allowing you a moment of relief as your bare knees met the cool, smooth floor.

His footsteps got louder and clearer as he crossed the space. Despite being unable to see him, you knew his presence loomed behind you-–you could feel it in your bones.

Sure enough, two gloved hands gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body for a moment and spreading your legs before setting your knees down further apart.

He made a place for himself between your knees, spreading them even wider. The smooth fabric of his robe pooled over your legs with him between them. He ran his gloved hands up your torso from your hips to your waist, pushing your skirt up further so it was up around your navel. Then, two satin thumbs lightly brushed your skin, tracing the heart-shaped cutout of your underwear.

After a moment of rustling behind you, a gloved finger slotted between your panties and ass. He pulled the garment out from your body, then the elastic tension released with a slice of his knife.

More rustling. His movement made the robe graze your butt. You weren't sure if you were imagining the sound of his belt coming undone behind you, but the thought of it made your face heat up.

The heavy fabric of his robe lifted off your calves, removing any doubt about what he was about to do. You tried to ignore the way your pussy throbbed.

The smooth head of his cock nudged your entrance, then slid wetly along your slit, forward and back. You hadn't realized just how aroused you were until feeling cock glide so smoothly against your well lubricated cunt. The head lingered at your front, nudging just the right spot. Your hips tilted all on their own, and he paused before sliding back to your wet little hole, resting the curve of his tip just inside.

He gripped your hips and pushed forward, intruding into your tight, warm sleeve with his thick, hard cock. Inch by inch, his stiff manhood pushed its way into you, the pressure of his girth pushing the breath out of your lungs. He slid all the way in without much difficulty and paused after bottoming out.

You took a much needed breath.

The skin of your chest radiated warmth. Your whole upper body was hot, despite the cool air.

Your lower body was warm and stuffed.

Two big, gloved hands wrapped around your thighs, then lifted. Your body lurched forward as far as it could, then he pulled you back on him, bottoming out deeper before he let your weight back down.

You braced your forearms on the driveway and he moved his hands up to hold your hips. He withdrew most of his length then squeezed your hips and pulled you back again as he slammed all the way back in. This wasn't bad… he was slow, almost careful.

Almost as though he could hear your thoughts, he seemed to drop all restraint. He buried his cock in you at a steadily increasing pace. You were shaken by just how good he felt inside you.

You bit your arm to stifle your moans, but it was no use. He'd have to hear your sounds of pleasure, as humiliating as it was. You removed your mouth from your bicep, leaving a string of spit as you took a deep breath.

As you inhaled the night air, it smelled like someone was having a bonfire... Someone, somewhere had come outside. Maybe even the neighbors.

But you didn't cry for help.

It was as though the cock in your cunt had gagged your throat, paralyzing you. It couldn't be that you didn't want him to stop, could it? No, you told yourself.

With every thrust, it felt more like a lie.

The rhythm of his pounding made your breasts jiggle. Your arms and wrists rubbed against the driveway, but you hardly felt it. Any discomfort was drowned out by the pleasant stretch of his girth, and the grip of your pussy clinging to his length as it pushed through you.

You closed your eyes and went somewhere else, giving into the feel-good chemicals coming to boil in your blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was the rush of survival and how much was his dick, but the combination had you hurtling toward the stratosphere. Full, you were packed full. God, it felt good. Even better, the more you let yourself feel it.

There was something freeing about completely submitting to his will. Letting him use you like a fucktoy. Giving in, letting him win, you could relax and let it all wash over you. With your body held in his hands and wrapped around his cock, you felt weightless. There was no longer pressure to fight back or flee. The only pressure was low in your gut, building toward something unthinkable. Closer with each heavy stroke.

You spasmed with a whimper.

He abruptly sped up to jackhammer pace, pushing you to the brink within seconds. You rode that edge for longer than you thought anyone could keep up that pace. You remembered to breathe, and then you saw stars. The hair on your neck stood up as you clung to the ethereal force that rippled through your loins. Pleasure shot through your core to each limb.

He slowed down as you clenched around him, then bottomed out deeper. It was like he’d created more space in you and packed it with more cock than you ever thought you'd take.

Until the warmth began to spread inside, you didn't realize he was coming. He had given no outward indication of it. You could hardly distinguish your throbbing from his, until yours faded and he was still twitching.

The grip of his hands eased up as he finished. He held you with your ass flush against his wiry hair, anchoring you. Plugging you.

After a minute, it started to feel colder outside. You felt more exposed, vulnerable, but still dared to imagine he might leave you alive.

One hand let go of you, and his robe shifted, brushing the back of your thigh. He pulled back your ruined underwear again. This time, he cut through the side and took it all the way off. Then, the surprisingly warm flat of his blade pressed against the side of your butt cheek. It slid up over the curve of your flesh.

Your heart pounded, reminding you to fear for your life.

The metal left your skin, only for the point of the blade to then prickle the center of your lower back. He held you still, and his cock twitched inside you as he began to draw blood.

You pleaded, “don't," but your insides throbbed.

A sharp, white heat followed the blade, curving upward, out, and down toward your crack. He repeated it on the other side to complete the heart. Your ears burned and pounded with their own pulse. Your inner ears began to ache.

Finally, his cock slid out of you, and after a moment of jostling, he got out from between your legs. Then, facing your side, his robe grazed your back as he hovered over you and grabbed hold of your waist. He tugged gently. You extended your arms in front of you and held them together as he pulled you back into the garage. warm blood trickled into your crack as you sat up. His gloved thumb smeared it upward.

Clear snot was coming out of your nose. You sniffed and he wiped that too, with a knuckle.

Holding his knife, he showed it to you as he stood up. He crossed the garage in just a few strides while you obediently sat back on your knees, adjusting your bra and fixing your hair.

He returned with his hands full.

Your face fell blank when you looked up to see a collar with a leash hanging off it. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He tilted his head, then stooped down to reach around your neck and fasten the it. The arms of his robe created a curtain of darkness as he adjusted the buckle and tested the tightness with two fingers between it and your neck.

He stepped back, holding the leash, and tilted his mask, waiting. There was something else in his other hand. He clicked it, then tossed it aside as the garage door began to rise. He reached down and helped you up. Then, he walked you down the driveway and into the night, with a warm mess trickling down your thighs.

--------

thank you for reading 🖤

and tysm for your comments and asks 🙏the feedback and encouragement really helps me.

#ghostface smut #ghostface x you #ghostface ☠️#toxicanonymity ☠️#tw noncon #cw noncon #dark fic #darkfic #female reader #ghostface #tw knife #tw blood #ghostface x reader #divider by cafekitsune link in post #scream

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buckyalpine · 1 year ago

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Mob Bucky x virgin reader

18+

Mob Bucky x virgin reader

If you’re wondering how bad my procrastination is, I started this in November. Anyway, I forgot to add some lines from a different fic here. There’s no plot here, literally just a scene I imagined. Please read the warnings.

Warnings: dub con, degrading, virginity taking, innocence kink, mentions of blood, horny, feral Bucky is a warning, porn and little plot. Honestly, no plot.

He knew he wanted you from the moment he saw you. Cute little sun dresses, beautiful eyes, your perfect lips, every single one of your delicate features making him crave to have you. He didn’t know what to do with himself the day he found out you were a virgin; you said it so quietly he would have missed it if you weren’t curled up on his lap.

“My sweet innocent baby” He cooed, trying his best to contain his erection, desperate to fill you. “No ones ever touched you?”

N-no” You shook your head keeping it buried against his neck while your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You were told to wait until marriage to do anything so you did exactly as you were told. It hadn't been a problem up until now, your heart rate beating faster, squeezing your thighs together to make that feeling go away. He was intoxicating; rough fingers tracing over your smooth skin, skimming up to the hem of your dress.

“I-I can’t” You shook your head when he nearly reached your panties, his hand coming to tilt your face up to meet his eyes.

“Why not, darling”

“We’re-um-” You fumbled with your fingers, choking on your words "We’re not married”

“Is that all baby?” Bucky chuckled, kissing your cheek, “You know it doesn’t count if I just touch you sweets, would that be okay?”

You swallowed thickly, knowing it was a bad idea to give into his temptations, the words of your mother and father screaming at you to behave yourself, that were omitting a grave sin, giving into lust-

“O-okay”

“It’ll be more comfortable this way, darling” He reassured you as he spread you out on his large bed, all your clothes torn off while he stripped the last of his boxers before crawling beside you. Your eyes flicked down to his thick length, your stomach clenching as it bobbed between his legs while he settled himself.

“You can look baby, you don’t have to touch if you don’t want to” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine when he caught you struggling to look away, your eyes now fully trained on the way a stick liquid was beading from the tip of his cock. He gently parted your thighs, moving to kneel in between them, the pads of his fingers brushing over your clit making you squeak in surprise at the feeling.

“Just your fingers?” You looked at him nervously with doe eyes as he gave you a wolfish grin.

“Just my fingers love, you’re not doing anything wrong” He rubbed the side of your thigh comfortingly while he coated his fingers in your slick, pressing the middle one into your entrance. “Still such a good girl”

You gasped at the gentle stretch, gripping onto the sheets when he slowly added another, pumping in and out of your pussy, groaning at the way your thighs parted further to give him better access.

“Look at this little button” Bucky whispered, rubbing deliberate circles around your clit, watching the way you started to fall apart when he crooked his fingers, fingering you faster. Your moans were music to his ears, his other hand pulling your lip away from your teeth to keep you from silencing yourself. “C’mon, I know you feel it princess, you can cum pretty girl”

“I-I’m gonna-Bucky-Please!-” The squelching sounds of your sopping cunt got louder as you came closer and closer to the edge, blinding pleasure finally pushing you off as you convulsed around his fingers. “Oh God!”

“That’s it baby” Bucky slowed down, gently pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, smirking when you cracked your eyes open again, sweat making your skin glisten. He was still kneeling in front of you, precum dribbling down his shaft, his balls achingly full while you shyly peered up at him through your lashes.

He was gorgeous.

Gorgeous enough you’d want to-

No.

As if he could read your mind. Bucky took your hand in his, placing your palm on his cock, nearly growling at how soft you felt compared to his rough hand wen he touched himself.

“You can touch baby, you’re still my good girl” Bucky’s voice was breathless as you hesitantly wrapped your hand around his velvety shaft, stroking his heavy cock. He kept his hand over yours, jerking himself into your fist while his eyes raked up and down your body.

“Let me touch you darling” He nearly fell forward when your thumb swiped over his slit, “Just let me rub it on you baby, it doesn’t count sweets, you don’t have to worry”

“Are-are you sure?”

“Of course baby”

He promised again while you bit your li hesitation before giving him a shaky nod. Bucky groaned, slotting himself between you legs, pumping his cock before rubbing it between you folds, his swollen tip leaking all over your already soaked pussy.

“So soft bunny” He growled, throbbing when his tip caught against your entrance before rubbing against your clit again, “Feels s’good”

“Bucky” You moaned in his ear as he started to hump against your pussy, slotting his cock snugly between your folds, his cockhead bumping against your clit with each thrust. “Bucky please”

You weren’t sure what you were begging for, the feeling of him slipping up and down against you between the grunts and groans he made each time made your belly clench, your eyes growing wide when he was pressed against your entrance again,

“Bucky-Bucky we can’t-” You looked at him with frantic eyes, his heavy body now fully resting on top of you while he continued to tease his cock, softly pressing against you.

“That’s not what you call me love, you know better” Bucky had tested the waters earlier, loving how flustered and shy you got when he insisted you call him by something else, making you even more needy for him.

“But-were not married daddy” You whimpered, feeling the blunt tip of his cock starting to press against your entrance while he hummed with approval.

“I won’t move love, just-just let me put the tip in, alright? Just the tip darling” He barely waited for your permission, breaching your hole as soon as you nodded, the sharp sting making you cry out in pain.

“DADDY!, DADDY s’too much!” You shook your head as he kept pushing in more, stretching as if he were trying to split you in half.

“I won’t fuck you, just wanna feel it” He gasped as soon as he was fully sheathed in you, your tight walls choking his cock. “Oh fuck angel, you’re so tight, make room for my cock baby, c’mon, let daddy fuck you baby”

“It’s too big, it hurts” You cried out, squirming and withering on the bed, your legs squeezing and tensing around him while he brought his hand to wipe your tears, pushing away the strange of hair that clung to your forehead.

“But you feel so good love, you gonna let daddy take your virginity baby?”

“I-but-we-”

Bucky cooed at your stammering while staying fully buried in your cunt, precum already leaking. He pulled his hips back before thrusting forward making you squeal, his eyes locked with your as he started to fuck you.

“Stop daddy!” Your nails clawed at his back pleasure, pain, shame, guilt, lust, one too many emotions flowing through you as he moved faster, his muscles tensing, rippling down his body. “Slow down, please!”

“But you’re making daddy feel so good baby” Bucky groaned, lost in his own world, feral over how tight you were, how you pleaded for him to slow down, his cock was too much for your tiny pussy to take. He loved the way you hiccupped and choked sobs, your greedy virgin cunt sucking him right back in each time he pulled out.

He was sure he could smell the light scent of iron in the air, looking down at where the both of you were connected, his shaft covered in your creamy slick. Spots of red stained his white sheets, but that only seemed to spur him on more, growling and pounding you harder.

“Oh sweet girl, did I stretch you too much?”

“It-hurts” You whimpered, clinging onto him, biting down on his shoulder to keep from crying, you wanted to be so good for him but you could feel the pain radiating through your body, shame melting into pleasure as he drove his cock in deeper. He could feel his length swell, his balls starting to pull tight against his body when you bit down harder, the pain making him throb.

“Gonna let daddy put his seed in you princess? Hmm? We’re not even married darling, are you gonna let my cock bust in you?” It was so wrong, all of it was so wrong but you were too far gone, too deep, your foggy brain caving, giving into everything you’d always wanted.

“Yes daddy yes!” Your thighs trembled, squeezing tightly around his waist as the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit. Spots clouded around your vision as you clenched around his cock making it hard for him to move, your second orgasm ready to wash over you.

“That’s a good slut, taking all of her daddy’s dick and letting him making a mess in her” He let out a dark chuckle as his hand came up to wrap around your throat, softly squeezing the sides.

“M’m-not a slut” Your whimper turned into a guttural moan as he pounded you with everything he had, the bed shaking, his balls slapping your ass. “Ah-AHh fuck!!”

“Oh but you are baby, all naked and spread out on my bed, fuck princess, m’gonna give it to you so hard, m’gonna cum so fucking hard, shit-FUCCKK” Bucky roared, as bursts of cum streamed out of his cock, the feeling of his seed making you feel warm inside. “You’re milking my cock you slut, gonna milk my fuckin’ dry the way you’re choking me, go on and milk me sweets, take it all”

You cried out as you came around his cock, emptying him for all he was worth. He wrapped his arms around you, keeping himself warm while you nearly passed out from pleasure, shuddering in his hold. He smirked at your fucked out state, pushing his hips up making you whimper, cuddling into his chest.

“Rest darling, daddy isn’t finish yet”

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forwhomthewordsflow · 2 months ago

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Stars In My Eyes

(a part two to this fic!)

modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI!!!

warnings: fluff, so fluffy, first dates, first kisses, some anxiety/stress, a little dash of coach!steve harrington, suggestiveness

author's note: i feel like this took me ages to write! so sorry for the wait...i do sort of love how this turned out :) writing a first kiss scene is hard!!!

please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!

word count: 7.7k

Eddie Munson couldn’t believe his luck.

Like, sure he’s gotten lucky a few times before. There was that one time an officer let him off with a warning after he rolled through a stop sign, he’d played the “I’m a teacher during finals week” card and it had seemed to work out pretty well for him. There were also a few times when a stranger in front of him at the Starbucks drive thru had paid for his morning coffee, only for him to turn around and see there was no one behind him to pay it forward to.

And then, there was that time back during his final senior year where Stacy Cowell was going through a “rebel phase” and decided to give Eddie a string of random blowjobs over the course of a week and a half to make herself feel like she was living on “the wild side.” She quickly transitioned out of that phase when Eddie had asked her out on a date, he figured they should probably make an effort to learn a little about each other if she was going to be deepthroating him in the back of his van every other day after school. She turned him down with a disgusted sneer, leaving Eddie a little heartbroken by the fact that a girl could be so offended at the idea of a date with him.

But none of that even mattered to Eddie anymore. All of those situations touched by a bit of luck have been reduced down to mere coincidences now that he has you in his life. Even though it was only one IKEA date trip that the two of you went on last weekend, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from imagining a long, happy future with you because of how fucking perfect it all went.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervously giddy over anything in your entire life. There had never really been any boys that you were crazy for when you were younger. Sure, you’d been in love a couple times before, but nothing was ever…”wow.”

You’d never felt any real sparks, never met anyone truly special enough to change your life like all of the women you’d seen in movies or read about in books.

But Eddie…he was very much wow.

After you’d worked out the details for your IKEA trip that afternoon in your classroom, you found it hard to stop blushing for the remainder of the week. The both of you decided that you’d go on Saturday morning, and Eddie had insisted on picking you up and driving there together. He bowed his head and lightly pressed his lips to your hand in a dramatic and silly fashion before leaving your classroom. Your knees felt weak and a bright red blush bloomed on your face as Eddie stood back up to his full height to face you.

“You know,” he started, still holding your hand, "you're really cute when you blush like that.”

A tiny squeak is all that comes out of your mouth when you open it to respond.

You struggle to put together a coherent sentence and settle for the smile and girlish giggle that bubbled its way out of your chest.

“I’ll see you later.”

Eddie started to walk backwards, keeping your hand in his grasp until he was too far away and then turning around to exit your classroom. There wasn’t much else you could do except stare at the hand that had just been held by him, while holding your other over your mouth in shock.

Eddie waited the appropriate five seconds after being out of your line of sight before erupting into a silent “fist-punching-head-banging-fuck yeah!” celebration in the hallway. He couldn’t believe he kissed your hand. The thought to kiss your hand had barely graced his mind before his body had made the decision to go through with it. Eddie was terrified that his nerdy qualities would cause you to run for the hills, or that you’d think he was weird or stupid.

But instead, you’d blushed bright red and blessed his ears with a giggle, and all of Eddie’s worries and fears were banished from his mind at the sound of it.

Eddie decided he was going to really enjoy taking every opportunity to make you blush.

There were only two days until your IKEA trip with Eddie, and somehow you kept missing each other in the hallways at school. On the rare occasion that Eddie had a spare moment, you were at some kind of art teacher workshop. Whenever you could pull yourself away from decorating your classroom and lesson-planning, Eddie was leaving early for the day to go look at different types of Tubano drums for his classroom.

There were a couple of staff meetings that everyone had to attend, but the two of you never ended up sitting next to each other. Instead, you would indulge in a game of eye tag, making yourself feel like you were in high school all over again with a big fat crush.

While you were really looking forward to your day out with Eddie, a tiny part of you was glad that you weren’t running into him constantly. You found yourself overpouring your coffee in the morning because of the way the deep brown shade of the coffee matched the color of Eddie’s eyes. You accidentally took a sip out of your paint water cup instead of your drinking cup because you were staring off at the lamps in your room, wondering which one had been Eddie’s favorite. Two days was just what you needed to collect yourself enough to act like a normal human being before you saw Eddie again. You weren’t even allowing yourself the time to think about being in a car with him for the hour that it took to get to IKEA. All of the workshops, lesson plans and other preparation for the start of school kept you calm and collected.

Eddie, on the other hand, was reduced to a pile of chunky silver rings and nerves. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had to get done before your trip…date? Was it a date? Did you say the word date when you asked him? Is it even a date when the girl asks the guy-

Eddie’s frantic pacing is interrupted by a shark knock on his propped open classroom door.

“Yo, Munson. How’s the…” Steve trailed off as he took in Eddie’s disheveled state. “Dude.”

“I know, I know, man.” Eddie responds, plopping down in a chair that was meant for one of his students. He puts his head in his hands, tugging on the roots to try and get a grip.

“What’s goin’ on, Ed? I haven’t seen you this distraught since One Direction broke up.” Steve sits on top of a desk next to Eddie, jabbing him softly in the shoulder after his lame attempt at getting a smile out of Eddie.

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at the stupid joke. He looks up at Steve with a deep sigh, then stands up and grabs him by the shoulders.

“If I tell you, it stays between us.” Eddie fixes Steve with a hard look and raised eyebrows, not any different from the look he gives his students when they’re getting up to no good. “I’m so dead serious.”

Steve’s eyes widen at the sudden seriousness, making a cross over his chest with his finger. “Yeah man, cross my heart and all that.”

Eddie lets go of Steve, slumping back into the chair with a huff.

“How do you know that a date is a date, and not just a friend thing?”

Steve smiles cockily and leans forward, always interested in Eddie’s love life…or lack thereof.

“Well, I don’t know…I think I might have to hear a little more about this special lady in order for me to provide some of my good ol’ Harrington Love Advice.” Steve wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, throwing in a wink for the sake of being annoying.

Eddie rolls his eyes, he knew it was a mistake to bring up girls around this guy. Steve was always giving Eddie pointers on how to get chicks the way he did, but Eddie was in no way similar to Steve when it came to relationships. Steve never had nothing to do on the weekends, always with a new girl, sometimes even the single moms at school. He’d meet them out at a bar, woo them, take them to dinner and then even sometimes back to his place. Despite his fuck-boy tendencies, Eddie knows it’s never that meaningful for either party. Steve’s been pining after one of the English teachers for years, and these flings are only serving as a way to satiate his intensely flirtatious side.

As annoying as he may be, it would be nice to rant about all of his pent up loverboy feelings for you to Steve. Eddie knows he’s just giving him a hard time, it’s one of the many love languages they share as best friends.

“I-it’s just…she’s so beautiful man, like…holy fuck.” Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, looking off into the distance as he rambles on about you. “I mean just…she looks like some kind of Elven princess-angel-goddess-fairy–”

“Dude, Ed. None of that nerd shit please, say it to me in English.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head with a sigh.

“Okay. I really like her. I haven’t felt this way in years, maybe ever. We met officially yesterday and just…clicked.”

Steve smiles at Eddie as he talks about you, happy to see his friend so excited about someone.

“We made plans to go to IKEA this weekend, but I don’t know what to make of it? Is it a date? Should I bring her flowers? What if I do bring her flowers and she gets weirded out because it was actually never a date at all?”

Steve holds his hands up like he’s trying to calm down an animal.

“Woah there, buddy. No need to get all freaked out about it.” Steve can’t help but to laugh a little at the helpless look on his friend’s face. “Let’s just start with the details, okay? Who asked who?”

“She asked me. I said I liked her lamps and then she said she got them at IKEA and then I said that I needed some for my room and then she said that we should go to IKEAandshopforsometogether-”

“Okay, okay man. Take a deep breath.” Steve motions for Eddie to inhale for a couple seconds.

“Then let it all out.” Eddie expels the breath from his lips in a hard huff, looking a little calmer. “Alright. So, she asked you?”

Eddie nods.

“That’s good, it means she’s interested! Not a lot of women are making the first move these days, it means that she definitely wants a slice of Munson.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, but still waits for him to go on.

“Are you picking her up for the trip to IKEA?”

“Yeah, I offered to pick her up and drive us both there since it’s about an hour away.”

Steve scratches his five o’clock stubble.

“Hmm…okay. Did she like…jump at the chance for you to drive her or was there some hesitation before she agreed?”

Eddie thinks back to that moment. How the two of you were standing slightly too close for new friends, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked up at him, how he was surprised you couldn’t hear his heart beating out of his chest.

He remembers offering to drive the both of you to the store, surprising himself by saying it way calmer than he was feeling. Your face lit up a little, like you were shocked that he’d even offer to pick you up and drive you there. You smiled and nodded your head sweetly before agreeing out loud.

Eddie feels himself smiling at the tiny memory.

“It wasn’t like she immediately answered…but she definitely was smiling when she agreed. She didn’t seem nervous about it or anything, it was more like she was excited or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as a smirk emerges on his face.

“So let me see if I’m getting this straight. She asked you to go to IKEA, probably knowing it was a long drive, and then she happily agreed to let you pick her up and drive the two of you there? For a whole two hours there and back?”

Eddie nods, anxiously awaiting Steve’s opinion on all of this.

“I mean, it’ll probably be a good four or five hours that you spend together driving and shopping.”

Steve fixes Eddie with a look that says ‘c’mon man, it’s obvious.’

Eddie’s had enough of his edging. “Will you just get to the fucking point please for the love of god?”

Steve sighs and claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

“Ed, it’s a date.”

Eddie barks out a triumphant laugh and Steve does the same. The two men high five and Steve wraps a beefy arm around Eddie’s shoulder to pat him on the chest. Eddie can’t help but to let out a big sigh of relief now that he can stop worrying about how to act on this trip date.

On Friday, you could’ve sworn you went slightly neurotic.

Since Tuesday you’d been considering your day with Eddie as a date, but it suddenly hit you that maybe he didn’t feel the same way. What if you’d been doing all this worrying and freaking out for no reason? What if he ends up calling you ‘dude’ the entire day? What if he has a girlfriend already, and he just agreed to take you to IKEA so that you wouldn’t get your feelings hurt?

You’d been running circles in your head trying to prepare yourself for any and all possible outcomes that Saturday could hold for you, but none of it seemed to be doing you any good.

So, you did what you always did whenever you found yourself flipping out over something new.

You made a to-do list.

Pick out an outfit. Dress! too fancy…jeans? Dress, definitely dress. not too fancy though…

Drink wine

Watch movie

Clean house…again

Drink more wine

Possibly reconsider outfit…

After all was said and done, you plopped down on your worn-in couch, sufficiently drunk with a clean house and an outfit neatly hung up outside of your closet. You decide to pour your third and final glass of wine for the evening, and to surrender your anxiety to the gods of love. You hope and pray that they like you enough to let you have this one.

It was finally Saturday. Eddie stands in front of his closet furiously, wondering why in the fuck he can’t find a single thing to wear for his date with you today. He’s got enough clothes to fill his entire closet, dresser, and a $20 clothing rack he picked up at Target years ago. Steve said to just go with what felt the most like ‘Eddie’, but he’s suddenly unable to remember what his style even looks like.

He wants to punch himself in the nuts for not taking the time last night to plan this all out like a normal person.

He ends up settling for a fitted white tee, a pair of trusty black jeans, and black boots. On a FaceTime call with Steve (so he could approve Eddie’s choice), Steve mentioned that the outfit was casual, but still fairly nice, and that the white shirt showed off his tattoos and muscles.

“Chicks dig the muscles and white tee combo, man. Trust.”

Eddie chuckles at his friend’s ‘frat boy’ lingo, but the comment makes him feel better about his appearance anyways. Last year, Steve had managed to convince Eddie to start going to the gym with him after school during the week, and it pains him to admit that he sort of really likes it now. He likes how much stronger he feels, he likes sweating out all of his frustrations, and most of all he likes the way he fills out his t-shirts now.

After hanging up the call with Steve, Eddie flexes a little in his mirror before leaving to go pick you up. He decides to do a few last minute push ups and to moisturize the tattoos on his arms so that he looks extra good for you.

Perhaps being slightly neurotic about this date was a good idea.

Thanks to all of your meticulous planning, you managed to get completely ready with a half hour to spare. You decided against sitting on your couch until Eddie arrived since the nervous butterflies in your stomach made you want to throw up, so you opted to wander around your house for the remainder of the time.

You pass by your mirror, doing a final check and making sure your outfit and makeup are up to par. You’d decided on a simple white dress, with a denim button up thrown over it and your pair of black chelsea boots that had yet to let you down. You smile at your reflection, happy that you’d managed to choose a comfy and cute outfit that felt like you.

There’d been too many dates before this one where you’d gone out and spent insane amounts of money on brand new outfits that you weren’t even sure you really liked, all in the name of impressing your date and hoping he likes you enough to ask you out on a second one. When prepping for those dates, you spent hours upon hours running around like a mad woman. Shaving, plucking, tweezing, waxing. Making sure your hair curled just right and that your eyeliner was sexy, but not slutty.

You couldn’t figure out why Eddie felt so different to you. Even though the nerves of a first date had really freaked you out the night before, this morning was fairly calm. Sure, you took plenty of time in the shower and doing your hair and makeup, but it didn’t feel like you were trying to morph into a different version of yourself to please a man.

It felt more like you were trying your best to look like your favorite version of yourself.

You want Eddie to know who you are inside and outside of work, and you really hope that he likes what he finds.

Eddie stays parked outside of your house for a minute or two to try and settle his nerves.

You lived in a small, red brick house in a family neighborhood. There were flowers planted in the beds under your windows, and your front door was painted a deep turquoise color. Eddie sucks in a breath when he sees your figure moving around through the gauzy white curtains covering your windows.

How can a hazy silhouette still be so beautiful?

Looking into his rearview mirror, Eddie takes a deep breath.

“You got this man. Be cool.”

He turns his car off and makes his way to your front door, knocking three times and then taking a step back to wait for you.

It takes all of two seconds for your front door to swing open, revealing you on the other side.

Eddie immediately feels weak in the knees. You looked so cute in your little boots, and he couldn’t help but to let his eyes trail up the smooth skin of your legs. He gulped a bit at the short hem of your dress, and then realized he should probably say something.

“Hey you.”

“Hi,” You smile up at him bashfully as he looks you up and down. You take the opportunity to look him over as well, and damn. You already knew he was sexy, but his tight tee shirt and pulled back hair made you want to drag him into your house and do things to him…

You only notice that he’s been holding a hand behind his back when he brings it out in front of him, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

“These are for you. I didn’t know which was your favorite, so I just asked the lady to throw together a bunch of different kinds and to make it look pretty.” Eddie holds the colorful bouquet out to you and smiles sheepishly.

Your mouth hangs open as you reach out to take them, being so careful for no real reason. You look up at Eddie with those big, sparkling eyes.

“Thank you so much, Eddie. These are so incredibly beautiful,” he watches you looking down at the flowers, gently brushing your fingers against their petals. “Let me run inside and find a vase for them real quick. Come on in!”

You wave him in behind you and hurry inside.

Eddie tries to suppress the excitement he feels at being invited into your home. He felt like he already got a good glimpse at who you are and how you express yourself when he was inside your classroom, but he’s now getting to see where you spend the majority of your time, where you live. As he steps over the threshold and into your house, he readies his brain to take mental pictures of everything he sets his eyes on, just in case he never sees it again.

Instantly, he’s hit with a sense of “home.” The inside of your house is the perfect temperature and it smells so good and womanly, like your perfume and also like you’ve been baking something but somehow also like flowers…Eddie loves it already.

You scurry off into the kitchen, trying not to think about the fact that Eddie Munson is looking around your house right now.

Where in the hell have all of your vases run off to?

Eddie walks around cooly with his hands clasped behind his back, taking in everything about your space. Much like your classroom, Eddie is able to spot at least four different sized lamps and light fixtures placed around your entryway and living room. There were warm white Christmas lights hung up along the ceiling, multiple green-leaved plants in different corners, and Eddie even thinks he spotted a black cat sprinting under your soft looking white sectional.

Overall, he’d give your interior design skills an 11/10.

He’s just starting to miss you a little when you come out from your kitchen holding your flowers in a sparkly glass vase.

It’s an odd feeling, seeing Eddie in your house. His ‘edgier’ look seems like it wouldn’t fit with your overall aesthetic, but to your surprise he looks like he belongs here. You walk up to him almost in a daze, admiring the silver hoop earrings he’s wearing, the smile on his lips, and the way some of his hair has made its way out of his low bun to frame his face.

The two of you stand there for a moment looking at each other, with you holding your flowers in between your bodies. You engage in a staring match for almost a second too long before you break the silence.

“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” you sheepishly admit, looking down at them instead of at him. Eddie grins at the blush that blooms onto your cheeks after your prolonged eye contact.

Eddie scoffs before he can stop himself.

“Seriously? That’s a damn shame, sweetheart.”

You look up at him again and try not to faint at how easily the word fell from his perfect lips. Unable to take another second of his eyes on yours, you retreat into your living room to find the perfect place for your new flowers. You decide to put them on your coffee table, then turn around to find that Eddie had followed you in.

He offers his arm out to you, “Shall we?”

This time, you can’t fight the smile.

You take his arm and swipe your purse from the coat hanger next to your front door on your way out.

Eddie was the perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the car ride to IKEA. He had opened the car door for you, he let you pick the music, and he definitely did not sneak a glimpse at your bare, voluminous thighs when your dress shifted as you sat down. The sweet smell of your perfume spread throughout the interior of his truck, he hopes that smell never fades away.

He couldn’t help glancing over at you every other minute, looking so beautiful in his passenger seat while you bobbed your head to whatever song you had queued up on his phone.

“Would it be a total invasion of privacy if I played your On Repeat playlist? I’m dying to know what the music teacher’s favorite music is right now.” Eddie turned to see that you were smiling pleadingly at him, and how could he say no to that face?

“I suppose,” Eddie sighs dramatically. “But, you are not allowed to judge me for whatever pops up.” He playfully points a finger at you while keeping his eyes on the road. You giggle girlishly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You hit ‘shuffle’ on Eddie’s playlist and aren’t surprised when the first song that plays through the speakers is ‘The Unforgiven ll’ by Metallica. You already knew Eddie was a fan of the band thanks to the music he always has playing a tad too loudly whenever you pass by his classroom.

“Oh, I know this song!”

Eddie’s face whips towards you sporting a shocked ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ expression. He was definitely expecting you to be the ‘indie music’ type. Your eyebrows furrow adorably angrily at the look on his face.

“What? A girl can’t like Metallica?” You fix him with a look that tells Eddie he should think twice about his response.

“W-well…I just didn’t expect you to be into them…that’s all.” You roll your eyes playfully at him and cross your arms. “But! I’m very pleasantly surprised that you are! Girls rule, alright? Men like…totally suck and stuff.”

You chuckle at his frantic attempt at avoiding a lecture on gender inequality and feminism while settling back into your seat. And because you actually do know and love this song, you start mouthing the words, which eventually evolves into singing them under your breath.

When Eddie thought he spotted you mouthing the words out of the corner of his eye, he was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him. But just barely hearing you singing the words to his favorite Metallica song just further confirmed a fact that he already knew.

Eddie Munson was totally going to fall in love with you.

The rest of the car ride consisted of sharing music, talking about work and life, childhood memories, and other random topics. Eddie discovered that you love thunderstorms, your cat’s name is Pascal (after the chameleon from Tangled), and that you moved here at the beginning of summer from Chicago.

Eddie swears there’s never been a conversation in history that flowed as well as yours and his. He felt like he’s known you for years, and he hopes you’re feeling the same way.

You totally are.

Once the two of you made it to IKEA and inside the giant store, Eddie quickly realized that he never really put any thought into what he actually wanted to buy for his classroom. You swiftly came to his rescue and pulled out your phone to open up Pinterest.

Together, you found a couple pictures that matched the general vibe of Eddie’s classroom. He grabbed a map of the store and a cart, and set off into the maze of furniture.

You were back to being shy again, now that you were out in the wild with Eddie. He found that making jokes about all of the funny names got you giggling, and so he didn’t miss an opportunity.

He made you laugh the hardest next to the Koppang drawers.

You bumped your shoulder into his around the Baggebo bookcases.

His hand brushed yours next to a Tornviken kitchen island.

And Eddie finally worked up the courage to hold your hand next to a Klippan loveseat.

You gasped a little when you felt his warm hand slide into yours, interlocking your fingers together. A red hot blush worked its way up your neck as you snuck a glance over at him, only to find that he was already looking at you with a smirk. He knows exactly what this hand holding is doing to you.

He chuckles smugly as the two of you arrive at the lights section of the store. As he pushes the cart through the aisles, you’re enamored by the twinkling lights that are draped overhead. You’re lucky he’s holding your hand, or else you probably would’ve fallen flat on your face. Eddie can’t help but to stare at you as you stare up at all the different light fixtures. The different colors and hues of light shine beautifully onto your face, and the soft smile on your lips makes Eddie wish he could just grab you and kiss you right here in the aisle. But, he figures that would cause you to explode after your reaction to his hand-holding.

He watches as you look further down the aisle at the lamps that are on display there, your face lighting up in recognition.

“Oh! That’s one that I’ve got in my room!” You point at an orange, donut shaped light called a Varmblixt. Eddie recognizes it, you do indeed have one hanging on the wall behind your desk.

“I must have it,” Eddie says with a flourish ,”Never have I seen a more extraordinary donut lamp.”

You giggle and go to grab one to place in the cart, but the box proves to be way heavier than you remember. Eddie notices as soon as you inhale to exert more effort, and he steps in immediately.

No fair maiden such as you should be forced to exert any effort whatsoever in his presence.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart.”

You try not to let the name affect you but once again, you fail. You’re left blushing and biting your lip, speechless. You stare unashamed at Eddie as he picks up the heavy box and goes to place it in the cart with ease. The overhead lights were really doing him favors, every ridge and contour of his body was lit to perfection. You could see the delicious bulge of his biceps, the ripple of his forearm muscles, and the outline of his chest in his shirt….why is your mouth watering?

Eddie easily places the box in the cart, turning to face you again. He finds you blushing up at him with wide eyes, and is unable to contain the smug smirk on his face. The sudden lack of distance between the two of you did not go unnoticed by him, he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.

The ‘normal you’ would’ve noticed that you were obviously in Eddie’s personal bubble, and you would’ve taken a step back like the respectable adult that you are. But the ‘normal you’ was long gone in Eddie’s presence. This version of you was not unlike the version that existed when you were an awkward teenager who was on the brink of passing out anytime a boy even breathed in your direction.

While you were busy ogling Eddie’s physique, you’d failed to notice the close proximity between the two of you, which led you to your current situation.

You and him were so close together, you could feel the warm puffs of air from between his parted lips gently hitting your face. His gaze trailed down from your eyes to your lips, but you wouldn’t have noticed anyways because you were one step ahead of him.

His lips looked so pillowy and soft, you wondered how they’d feel pressed against yours. Would he kiss you slowly, gently holding your face in his big hands and brushing his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks? Or would he be rougher than that, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you into him, kissing you with fire and passion?

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it. You’re so goddamn beautiful, and you looked like an angel in this aisle of lights. A lamp from behind you lights up the silhouette of your hair like a halo, and he can see the lights above his head reflected in your eyes like stars.

Eddie knows he shouldn’t kiss you right now, not in the middle of IKEA where he can hear kids whining to their parents and couples arguing over which shade of beige would match their living room better. He knows this, but he can’t stop himself from reaching his hand up to gently grasp your jaw. His thumb slides from your chin to your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth.

His hand snakes down to the side of your neck, and you can feel the slight tremor in his hand. You’re glad that the situation is affecting him too, because you are freaking out.

Is he going to kiss you right now?

In IKEA?

On your first date?

Is this even a date?

Do you even want him to kiss you? Idiot, of course you want him to.

Eddie’s eyebrows lift slightly, almost questioning you. Asking you, ‘Do you want this? Is this okay?’

You answer him with a soft smile, and you feel his hand move behind your neck to pull you in.

It is at this moment that a baby starts to wail one aisle over, effectively ruining any sort of moment you and Eddie had been sharing.

He lets out a frustrated huff, and touches his forehead to yours with closed eyes.

“Of course,” he groans.

You’re secretly giddy at the fact that he so obviously wanted to kiss you badly. You bring your hand up to his arm that’s still resting on your neck to give it a reassuring squeeze, and in a surprising burst of confidence, you rise up on your toes to peck him on the cheek.

Eddie’s eyes shoot open at the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek. He pulls back to stare down at you as his face turns red.

You giggle at him, then turn around to walk down the aisle.

“C’mon, I think I saw another one of my lamps down this way!”

Eddie snaps himself out of his daze with a shake of his head, he’s sure that he’s got hearts in his eyes as he watches you walk away from him. Grabbing the cart with one hand, he holds his other gently to his cheek, touching the spot that’s still warm from your lips.

Eddie ends up purchasing five lamps from IKEA after an hour and a half of wandering through the aisles with you.

He can’t help but to act like the loverboy he is when he’s looking at furniture with you. He fantasizes about a life with you, imagining that the two of you are actually here to pick out items to furnish your shared house.

He wonders which kind of wood floors you’d pick out and which backsplash you’d want in the kitchen. You’d probably want to decorate with colorful rugs and throw pillows, and Eddie wouldn’t complain. Not as long as you’re happy. He’d live in a pink house decorated with bows and lace trim as long as he was living in it with you.

Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, it’s only your first date together right?

If only he knew you were having similar thoughts as you strolled up and down the aisles, hand in hand. You thought about what kind of decorating he did in his house, you figured it was styled in some way considering the amount of effort he puts into making his classroom look as cool as it does. Does he have shelves full of records or different posters framed and hung up on his wall? Which side of the bed does he sleep on? You hope he likes plants, there’s no way you could part with your beloved greenery if the two of you were to live together.

You’re quick to silence the random thoughts buzzing around in your head, it’s silly to think about these things on your very first date…you don’t even know his middle name yet!

You and Eddie both seem to snap out of your stupors at the same time, sighing simultaneously. You both turn to look at each other and then begin to laugh, unsure on whether or not the ‘jinx’ rules apply in a sighing situation.

Eddie pays for the lights, and soon enough you’re both back in his truck.

It dawns on you that your date is almost over, but you’re quickly redirected when you hear the starting notes to the next song that starts playing when Eddie’s phone connects to his radio.

Is that…Taylor Swift?

You turn to him slowly, confused at why a Taylor Swift song is on his ‘On Repeat’ Spotify playlist.

Eddie’s already staring at you mortified. He holds a hand up, pausing any words that might’ve come out of your mouth.

“Before you say anything,” he begins ,”I really admire her lyricism. Girl’s a wizard with words.”

The two of you sit in a charged silence for a moment before you can’t hold in your reaction any longer. A laugh breaks free from your chest, and Eddie can’t help but to laugh along with you.

You’re wiping tears from your eyes as your laughter dies down, and Eddie just grins at you.

“I can’t believe it. The rock and roll music teacher listens to enough Taylor Swift for it to end up on his ‘On Repeat’ playlist.” You shake your head at him with a wide smile on your face that Eddie wants to take a picture of and frame.

“Yeah, yeah…laugh it up. As a music teacher, it’s my duty to appreciate all types of music.”

You nod along to his explanation, “Yes, of course. How else are you supposed to connect with the teenage girls these days?”

“Right! Yes!” Eddie exclaims. “I do this lesson on lyrics and Taylor’s music is a great example of what storytelling in music can look like. I respect her, hard.”

You stifle another laugh at his emotional Taylor Swift themed outburst.

“This stays between you and I alright?” Eddie points a finger at you playfully. “If Harrington gets word of this I’ll never live it down.”

“Of course, my lips are sealed.” You mime zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key.

Eddie settles back into his seat with a huff, boyishly smiling over at you.

“I have a very important question for you Eddie.”

He leans in, intrigued by your seriousness.

“Which era are you in right now?”

Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back with a groan. This sends you into another laughing fit, Eddie can’t help but to join in again. He’s coming to find out that your joy is such an infectious thing.

“Hmm let’s see…,” he muses. He turns to look at you with one hand on the wheel and a smirk on his face as he puts his keys in the ignition.

“Right now…I’d have to go with ‘Lover,’” he says with a wink.

Your laughter is cut off abruptly as you gasp and bite your lip, attempting to subdue the cheesy grin that’s surely made its way onto your face by now.

You stare unashamed as Eddie puts his right hand over the back of your seat to turn around and look through the rear window as he reverses the car out of its parking spot. You can smell the cologne he must’ve sprayed on this morning, which immediately awakens the butterflies in your stomach.

As soon as Eddie is set on the route back to your house, he holds out his hand expectantly over his center console. You look at it, then at him, then back at his hand before shyly placing your hand in his. He’s quick to lace his fingers through yours, holding on tight and running his thumb back and forth.

You’re both thinking that you could get used to this.

Eddie (reluctantly) only lets go of your hand in order to rush around the front of his truck to open your car door for you after he’s pulled into your driveway. He’s quiet as he walks you to your front door, wondering which way is the best way to ask you out on another date.

You stop when you reach your door, looking down at your hand in his. The silence begins to feel just a tad awkward as you both search for something to fill it.

“Thank you,” you start quietly ,”for today. I had a wonderful time.”

Eddie lets out a relieved breath and grins widely down at you.

“I did too,” he begins, readying himself for his next question. “Would you…I mean–would you like to…uh…shit, would you want to maybe do it again sometime?”

You know what he means, but it’s still so tempting to tease him when he’s blushing like this.

“Would I want to go to IKEA with you again?”

“N-no! I mean, if you wanted to we could I guess…b-but I was thinking something more along the lines of dinner?”

You find it adorable how nervous he is to ask you out on a second date, as if you wouldn’t agree to go out to dinner with him tonight.

“I’d love that.”

Eddie’s face lights up with a triumphant smile as he lets out the anxious breath he’d been holding in.

“Good, that’s really good.” The way you’re smiling up at him right now is causing him to lose his train of thought. “Um…how’s tomorrow night? Around 7?”

“Tomorrow night is perfect.”

“Awesome. Great, yeah I’ll just…I’ll pick you up, okay?”

You’re beaming as you nod your head, much too ecstatic at the idea of going out with Eddie again to form a coherent sentence.

Eddie finds himself smiling and nodding with you, you’re just too adorable.

“Hey could I uh…c-could I get your number?” Eddie stammers the question out like he’s a prepubescent teenager, mentally face palming the whole time.

He’s relieved when you chuckle and hold your hand out for him to place his phone in. He fumbles around trying to give you his phone as quickly as possible, he can’t believe how nervous he feels right now.

He finally somehow manages to pass over his phone with a new contact page pulled up and ready for you. You type in your number and name, making sure to add the artist’s palette emoji afterwards. Eddie laughs through his nose when he sees it, then pockets his phone again.

There’s a weird tension in the air that can only be brought upon by two people who so obviously want to kiss each other, but are too nervous to make the first move. Eddie wracks his brain for a way to ask you if it’d be okay for him to kiss you without looking like a total idiot. It’s really unfortunate that the way you bite your lip causes his mind to completely shut off and switch to autopilot.

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” he blurts out.

You look up at him, shocked at his bluntness. Eddie’s even more shocked than you are.

“Y-you probably should then,” you bashfully admit.

Eddie can’t believe that worked.

He steps towards you and softly places one hand on your cheek, the other going to gently grasp the side of your neck similarly to the way he had in IKEA during your almost-kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed as you feel his lips graze yours for the first time. The feeling is electrifying, and you can’t help but to venture forward for more.

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than Eddie imagined.

You plunge forward to press your lips against his, instantly deepening the kiss. Eddie found himself instantly addicted to the feel of your lips and the way you sigh into the kiss. It’s a shy kiss at first, where the two of you slowly begin to figure out your shared rhythm. But it wasn’t long before you sank into a synchronized dance, mirroring each other’s movements in a way that crafted the most perfect, earth shattering first kiss.

You let Eddie Munson kiss you at your front door in a way that you had longed to be kissed for your entire life. This was how the women you saw in movies or read about in books were kissed. You’d read about magic and sparks flying, and you think you’re finally starting to believe in all of it.

Eddie moves his hand from your cheek to your waist, gripping it and pulling you closer to him. The gasp you let out gave him the sweet opportunity to run his tongue against your bottom lip, asking, pleading for an entrance which you of course granted. You tasted like autumn and felt like home, he decided he could kiss you for hours on end.

You both stood there for a good five minutes at your front door, making out like giddy teenagers and feeling like them too. Eddie finally pulls away from your lips, pleased to find you subtly chasing his mouth with your own. You open your eyes and come out of your kiss-induced haze to find him smiling adoringly down at you with both hands now circling your waist.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you once more.

“Actually, I’m gonna call you tonight.” He kisses you again. “Is that okay?” Another peck.

You're giggling as he places a final kiss on your forehead, “Yes, please.”

“Good.”

Eddie steps back, grabbing your hand to kiss it like he did on Tuesday. He pulls you back in with that same hand to plant one last kiss on your lips, then jogs back to his truck. He waves and quickly honks his horn twice as he pulls away.

You’re left standing at your front door, watching his truck disappear down your street and reliving every moment of your first kiss with Eddie Munson.

When you finally make your way inside, you make sure to smell your brand new beautiful flowers before scurrying off to your bedroom to pick out an outfit for your second date with Eddie tomorrow night.

TAGLIST:

@josephquinnsfreckles @the-fairy-anon @anukulee @littlebebebunny @meetmeatyourworst @lalalala-melmosworld @someantics @lokis-army-77 @loserboysandlithium @strangerstilinski @mystra-midnight @lesservillain @queenimmadolla @luveline @munson-blurbs @fairyysoup @urhoneycombwitch @oneforthemunny @rebelfell @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @eiightysixbaby @bettyfrommars @loveshotzz @lovebugism @carolmunson @rustedhearts @lonelysatellites

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson stranger things

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spliffymae · 8 months ago

Text

rapper!onyankopon.

just some head canons i have.

in my head im imagining a blend of dave and fridayy, where he can sing as well (he got variety!). same universe as my musicproducer!connie fic but reader is not famous here, as opposed to w/ connie’s. (lol i gave her a last name too—davis.) in my mind, im picturing ony from the uk and connie from ny.

★　*　　°　　　　🛰 　°. 🌓　•　　.°•　　　🚀

rapper!ony who first pops up on the scene in a music video of his friend connie’s song. he wasn’t featured on the track, but rather just in the background getting hype with everyone else.

but y’all know how the girlies get when a fine black man/woman/person start trending.

rapper!ony who wasn’t shy about his craft, but just wasn’t big on social media. his agent hated it, he loved it. he simply released music, let people know, and then went about his business.

rapper!ony was trending and although he didn’t take this as an opportunity to get in his social media bag, his best friend, musicproducer!connie did!

rapper!ony who goes from a couple thousand people knowing what he does to over a million people screaming his lyrics at they’re phones on tiktok in ONE night.

“bro, you can’t even get mad at me gang!” connie yelled from his shower. ony was sitting outside, accosting his friend for what he did. “you said you didn’t care what happened to the project!”

“but tell me if you gon post it and make it a whole thing, nigga damn!” ony yelled back.

rapper!ony who now has to adjust to his quickly rising popularity. he has yet to know the number of artists looking for a feature; and he doesn’t know that he secretly has some of these industry boys shaking in their boots because where the hell he come from?

no, rapper!ony is too busy focusing on whyyy they’re a million fan edits of him across tiktok and instagram. clips of him from his streams, connie’s videos, and his other friend’s content.

ony groans as connie’s message banner pops up on his phone, the message being a link to a tiktok. when he clicked it, it was a fan edit of him using his song ‘when it comes to you’. “bro, who keeps sending these to you, man?!” ony exclaimed. connie heard it from his room and snickered.

rapper!ony who had to adjust to being the attention at these red carpet events. he usually just walked behind connie and his girl, along with the rest of the entourage but now he is getting stopped for photographs.

there’s nothing like listening to music live. so rapper!ony puts on a fake smile and pushes through the crowded carpet to get inside. he waves to people he’s worked with, artists, and fans who called out to him. all so he can hear some music.

he sees connie holding hands with his girlfriend, both of them making goofy faces at the cameras. he softly smiles at the couple, but before he could make way, connie somehow senses him and turns to him “ony! ven aquí!” damn!

rapper!ony who doesn’t expect much from the awards show. just to go, support connie, and go home. he was nominated,yeah, but he was also in the category with some of the most popular artists right now…so he wasn’t feeling all that confident.

rapper!ony who is shocked as shocked can be when his name is called from the podium for best new artist.

“F**CK YEAH!” connie yelled, jumping up from his seat along with his girl and the rest of the table—aran, zora, jean, armin, and mikasa.

rapper!ony who walks up on stage with connie who is still screaming from excitement.

“uhhh, i’m not gonna lie, mans weren’t expecting to win still.” ony laughed, running a hand over his fresh waves. the audience laughed with him.

“first i would like to thank God, the most high who has blessed me with this amazing opportunity. i want to thank my people for having my back; connie—this man,” ony pointed behind him to connie, who was full out filming the moment on his phone.

“who told me on a random day when we were cleaning out our college dorm room that if we made a project together we would be the new heartthrobs of the generation. connie i thank you for being you; having my back and working alongside me. my brother for life, that is.” connie screamed, and so did his girlfriend from the audience as the claps poured in.

“and finally, i want to thank my heart in human form. the woman who made all of this possible, y/n davis. she don’t like the attention so im gonna hear bout this name drop when i get home. but babes, i love you, and thank you for being my rib. i owe you the world and more. and to her parents, thank you for my better half. thank you lot again. love!” ony raised his hand with the award, smiling and waving to the crowd and cameras as he walked to the back.

meanwhile, across the country, cuddled up in her bed was y/n, who was watching the award show before going to sleep. she had expressed to ony she wasn’t too sure about going, not liking the cameras and attention. he reassured her it was okay because there wasn’t any way he would be winning with who else was in the category.

so…safe to say when you saw your boyfriend on the stage with the award in his hand, you could not contain your shock and excitement. you jumped out of bed screaming and quickly getting to your phone camera to record the tv. squeals and “yeah baby” was all you could say as he gave connie his thanks.

but then… when you heard him say your name, for everyone around the world to hear, everything just turned to shock as your phone fell from your frozen hands, still recording. you were stunned. he said your name. your government name. on national television.

“ONY!!!”

#🌞🍃spliffymae #ony x black reader #ony x y/n #rapper!ony #music producer connie #au #anime x black!reader #aot x black reader #attack on titan #onyankopon #onyankopon x black!reader #aot

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ghouldump · 3 months ago

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hi your fics are so amazing!!

if you’re open to requests, i was wondering if you could write a lestat x louis x reader fic that takes place during their huge fight in the townhouse? i can imagine the reader being a mother figure to claudia and trying to protect her during it and getting hurt in the process of trying to break up louis and lestat. i’d love to see how the reader deals with the aftermath of her and louis’ injuries as well as claudia taking care of the two of them.

sorry if its confusing😭 i thought of this while rewatching s1

For The Love Of A Daughter | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ out of fear, lestat does the unimaginable and has to try his hardest to win his family's trust back, but it may be too late

the comparison of s1 vs s2 of this scene had me on the edge of my seat 🥺 ⚠️ THIS IS S1 E5 ‼️

How did your once beautiful family go to ruins? When Claudia was created? When she rebelled? Or when she left? Your daughter, you would go to hell and back for her, yet, you couldn't convince her to stay.

Lestat was cruelly strict with her, invading her privacy by reading her diaries, not considering the fact that she was trapped in the early stages of puberty for an eternity. She couldn't help that she was a young girl stuck in this body, and he never let her forget or made it easier on her.

Louis, he'd always been passive, about your companionship, as well as his role as a parent. He wanted to keep the peace and harmony. If that meant allowing Lestat to discipline her, then he’d turn his head to not have to watch out of guilt.

Then you, Lestat often complained that you spoiled her too much. You never raised a finger to her, nor your voice. You hadn't been brought up that way, and so you did the same with her. You still remember the night she left. Packing only a few things, while you and Louis tried convincing her to stay. Standing her ground, she gave you both a hug, letting the wind carry her away.

Seven years flew by, silence made its way into the house that no longer felt like a home. Louis nose-deep in book after book, Lestat leaving going god knows where, while you remained secluded, drawing, reading, and sometimes staring at the wall.

Tonight was a rarity, Lestat wasn't running off, and Louis sat on the sofa, reading, while you sat in a chair, your head lying on your arm, taking in the soft jazz music.

Hearing the door open, Claudia entered, setting her suitcase on the floor. Rushing over, you wrapped your arms around her, rocking back and forth. Pulling away, your heart broke as Louis hugged her tightly. He too had been taking it so hard, since she had been gone. Abruptly, the music stopped, Lestat glaring at her.

“The prodigal daughter”

“I've come to apologize, I put all of you in a bad spot, I wasn't right in my head. I am now,” she said. You couldn't put your finger on it, but there was something different about her, a certain brokenness, she was trying to shut away.

“Apology not accepted,” Lestat said.

“How was college? Magna cum? Summa cum? Phi Beta Kappa?” he continued.

“I've read a lot of books. Started with Persia and Babylon, the old gods who longed for blood. A lot of it was popcorn, but a few old tomes. A Romanian tract on vampirs. A strange old Hungarian text, ‘Masticatione Mortuorum,’ the chewing dead. I plan to leave for that part of the world as soon as I can,” she told him. You and Louis shared a look, sensing that this wasn't headed in a positive direction.

“So, quick stop home to do laundry before you fuck off for good,” Lestat spat.

“A quick stop to pick up my mama and Louis,” she told him. Your hand went to your stomach, trying to control the unsettling nervousness building up. Lestat glanced at the two of you, before glaring at her in disgust.

“Oh, Perused a few folklore anthologies, and now you're going to cross the ocean and take on a society of monsters,” he said, slowly making his way towards her.

“If what I've read is lies, then tell me what's true,” she told him, but he only continued to stare at her as if she was beneath him.

“Seven years and what’s changed, other than you need a housekeeper?” she sneered. He slowly approached her, and as you were about to step forward to intervene, Louis grabbed your hand, discreetly shaking his head.

“The vampires out there…are vicious. Oh, but you've learned that already. Who did you meet out there in the American hinterland? Read her,” Lestat looked at the two of you, walking away. Staring at her, you quickly wiped the tear from your eye, you couldn't imagine what she had been through all on her own.

“That’s it, keep 'em scared. That's his way,” she said to you both.

“The vampires in Europe are much, much worse”

“But I think he's scared,” she spoke over him.

“I never asked, how did Charlie taste? Like the love you'll never really know,” he said, trying to get under her skin.

“And when he's scared, he ridicules”

“She was a destitute little girl, destined to live an inconsequential little life,” he said, approaching the both of you.

“And we took it from her, we cursed her,” Louis said, making the smug expression drop from his face. Looking at you, his frown deepened, seeing you gaze at her, the bloody tears moments from seeping out.

“Come with me!” she called out, both of you staring at her.

“Come with me, mama, Louis”

“Louis, Y/n,” Lestat said, becoming angry as neither of you looked at him.

“I thought I could live without either of you, but I was wrong,” Claudia said, her eyes pleading for you to come along.

“Y/n, Louis”

“Louis, Y/n,” Lestat continued, raising his voice.

“His love is a small box he keeps you both in, don't stay in it,” she said, as you glanced at him.

“A thousand nights of sulking, and the first sight of her, you are just gonna up and leave me?!” Lestat yelled.

“Please, come with me! Let’s be vampires worth of your love!” Claudia screamed before Lestat surged, choking her.

“Get off of her,” you said, going to shove him off of her. However, he was much stronger, gaining the upper hand, his fingers wrapping around your throat, he looked unrecognizable.

“You, always choosing her,” he spat, before Louis charged over, tackling him.

As they fought, Claudia screamed, panicking, as you tried to keep up with them. Throwing Louis in the living room. Lestat straddled him, punching him in the face.

“Lestat, stop it,” you cried out, jumping on his back, but he easily slung you across the room, as you smashed into the wall, you could feel your arm already broken.

“Claudia, stay down here,” you told her, rushing to the bedroom.

“Stop fighting,” you screamed, as they continued tackling each other.

“Let him go,” you hear Claudia crying.

“It’s alright, you stay where you're at,” Louis told her, as if he wasn't completely bruised up.

“You're going to choose her too? Leave me for her when she left you both, I’ve been here,” he told you, as you slowly backed away, unsure of what he'd do next.

“Lestat st-

“Do not tell me what to do,” he told you, wrapping his hand around your throat, and pulling you close. His nails were in your skin, with your airway completely blocked.

Dragging both of you downstairs, and outside, you could hear Claudia running.

“I fought myself a million times, fought my nature, controlled my temper. I never once harmed either of you,” he said.

“Let him go,” you cried, hoarsely, trying to claw at his hand, while reaching for Louis.

“Silence,” he told you.

“Uncle Les”

“It's Uncle Les, now suddenly?”

“Let them go, they didn't do nothin’, let them go, it's me you want,” you could hear her steps approaching.

“Listen to me, and listen very carefully my infant death, it was never you. No matter how much your mama made you think otherwise,” he spat, crushing your throat, and dragging you both out into the road.

“I chose you, and you, given you the dark gift and you've betrayed me,” he said, biting into your neck, draining almost every ounce of blood from your body, before throwing you, watching as you flew into the backyard, colliding with bricks, you could feel your rib cage shatter.

However, as you stood up, you quickly fell to your knees in pain and fear for Louis’s life, watching as they flew into the sky to the point where they were no longer seen.

“Mama, are you alright?” Claudia ran to you, reaching for her hand, your other hand on your throat. You couldn't speak, Lestat’s nails had managed to pierce through. Claudia gasped, as you coughed, blood spilling out.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“I’m okay, we just need to get Louis,” she said, helping you stand, however, just as you stood, Louis fell from the sky, hitting the ground. Limping over, you were afraid to touch him, the slightest touch looked as if it would break him even more.

Crying, you looked up, staring into Lestat’s eyes as he flew over you all, not saying a word. You couldn't say it, but from your expression, there was no way you could easily forgive him after this.

Healing was a struggle, not just from the physical damage, but any previous trust was gone. While you managed to bounce back within a few months, Louis had a long way to go. Lestat skipped town and hadn't bothered to show his face.

You avoided thinking about him, altogether. Dedicating yourself to Claudia and Louis, from coffin-bound to limping, every day was progress. Louis was slowly getting better and you both worked on strengthing your bond with Claudia. Then the calls started coming.

All of this time, you managed to push through the soreness and pain, but the moment he called you hid away, licking your eternal wounds. He was a completely different person that night, the things he said, the things he'd done. After Louis fully healed, you were no longer opposed to the idea of leaving for Europe with Claudia.

Hearing the doorbell ringing, you turned your head, watching as Claudia went outside. You could hear his voice, he had gifts, and he wanted to talk, to apologize. Louis went upstairs, throwing his coffin out of the window, you couldn't help but snicker.

“There’s your answer”

“And where is Y/n? I know she would enjoy these paints, they are rare. I paid quite a price because I knew she would make the most beautiful-

“My mama ain't got nothin’ to say to you, like you said, she betrayed you, choosing me,” she told him, shutting the door, and locking it.

Coming back to the living room, she glanced your way before to Louis, who came from upstairs. As Louis sat next to you, you pulled him close.

“You okay?” you asked him.

“Getting there,” he mumbled, smiling as you kissed his cheek.

Lestat didn't show his face anymore, but the gifts never stopped. Each time more spontaneous than the next, and while you knew, Louis was becoming weaker, you wished you could say the same for yourself.

“Emily Dickinson is not a vampire,” Louis said, as you laughed.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“Because she is dead,” you pointed out.

“How do you know?”

“She got a grave,” Louis said.

“And a tombstone,” you added.

“So do you,” She told Louis, all of you laughing, afterward.

As you crossed the streets, the driver honked their horn, as they slowly came to a stop in front of you. Opening the door, Lestat climbed out, smiling at you all. Rolling your eyes, you simply looked the other way.

“25 horsepower Rolls-Royce six-cylinder engine and a front end they call a coffin nose, is that rich? This one’s yours, mine’s back at home in blue,” he said, showing off the new car, and tossing the keys to Louis.

“I know how much you despise driving, so I got you other things, the finest fabrics, books, art supplies, and music, waiting for you at home, I'm back in town permanently,” he continued, looking your way, but you just stared off to the side, as if you didn't see him.

“Were you gone?” Claudia asked him.

“Across the river, in Algiers,” he said, you could still feel his eyes on the two of you.

“You know who lives in Algiers” Claudia said to you, as you clenched your jaw.

“I don't know what possessed me that night,” he said.

“Three years ago, that night, three years ago, he means,” Claudia corrected him.

“I was someone I don't want to be anymore. I've changed. Let me prove it to you. I’m nothing without you. I’m nothing without any of you”

“If you want me to go away, just say so. I’ll obey you. I’ll leave your lives forever. This silence is cruel, all I ask is that Y/n looks at me. You haven't spared me a glance since I've been here. Neither of you were ever cruel, don't let our situation change you,” he said.

“Just look at him,” Louis pleaded.

Turning to face him, he cleared his throat, straightening his posture. You didn't say anything, emotionlessly staring at him.

“You look stunning as always, ma chérie,” he complimented, his heart breaking as you looked away again.

Taking the keys, Claudia threw them, before scratching the car, reaching for your hand, walking away.

Six years, came and went, and more gifts flooded the house. It was unspoken between you and Louis that you both missed him. Although it looked different, Louis wanted him to come running back, each extravagant, but sentimental gift was tugging more and more at Louis’s heart. You preferred the distance, reminiscing on the past, before that night. You didn't think you could have that back, now, you secretly enjoyed every time he saw you, or wrote to you, begging that you would acknowledge him.

Unexpectedly, it happened, the record came in the mail and was immediately played. The song meant to win you both back while pissing you off, a song sung by his affair partner. Louis was seething, grabbing the record, and ran out of the house.

“You're not going with him?” Claudia asked.

“They will be back,” you mumbled, knowing his plan worked, he got through to Louis and would be coming back.

“Rule number four-

“Kill Antoinette”

“Antoinette is my own private-

“Affair,” Claudia said.

“Said child, interfering in the romantic lives of her parents,” Lestat said, wanting one of you to stop her. She had been sharp with him since the moment he stepped into the house.

“She will be 33 soon, far from a child,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes.

“It’s a lick and a promise in vampire years,” he shrugged.

“Maybe, but I am not your child anymore, that's rule number five,” Claudia said, catching his attention.

His eyes shifted from her to you, your interlocked hands. She had you, wrapped around her fingers, taken from him. Louis was more willing to work on the broken relationship, but you had shut him out, choosing your child.

“I’ll be your companion, your sister,” she told him, as he scoffed.

“It's not as simple as choosing a new family configuration, now I'm your cousin, now I'm your aunt, I am your maker,” he told her rudely.

“I’m going to bed,” you said, standing abruptly, he looked into your cold eyes, searching for any emotion.

“Will you not lay down your rules, as well?” he asked, sarcastically.

“Good night,” was all you said, turning away, going upstairs.

“She needs time,” you could hear Louis say.

Did you need more time? You didn't go through nearly as much as Louis and he managed to forgive him, why couldn't you? You were never maternal until Claudia came along, perhaps it came with being a mother. The way that he treated her, turned you against him. As much as you loved him, thinking back to the times you were spoiled, lavished as if you were royalty, you couldn't bring yourself to open up.

Hunting became insufferable. Louis began drinking human blood, it was supposed to bring everyone closer, hunting as a family, but you kept your distance. He knew he'd wounded you, his choice of words hurting you just as bad, and he'd have to be more persistent to win you back.

“I wished you’d look at me, the simplest glance would help me a great deal,” he said, following you, sighing in relief as you faced him.

“Happy?”

“You have my heart at your will, your precious words command me, and I would do anything you ask of me,” he said, trying to fight the tears, as you slowly approached him.

“Take up your heart, I wouldn't want you to feel betrayed when I don't choose you,” you said, turning around, leaving him to stand there and try to gather his emotions.

“Could you at least try to compromise?” Louis asked you, as you looked through the different fabrics in the store.

“I am-

“No, you're not, you put your coffin in Claudia’s room, and the other night, whatever you said, he cried himself to sleep”

“Aw, poor baby,” you said, placing the fabrics into Louis’ arms.

“You agreed that we would work things out, everybody is compromising trying to work through our problems, we need you too,” he said, pouting, as you approached the cash register.

“Fine, I hate when you give me that look,” you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“Thank you, I love you,” you grinned.

“I love you,” you laughed, pecking his lips.

Later that night, after putting away your things, and changing into your nightgown, you were about to into Claudia’s room, when you stopped. Huffing, you went to your shared bedroom, opening the door.

“Did she say anything? I left a note, but she never responds,” Lestat grumbled.

“I talked with her, but it is up to her to make a decision,” Louis said.

“I hope you don't expect us to squeeze that coffin,” you said, making both of them face you.

“We could always sleep in the bed,” Louis offered, both of them approaching you.

‘Thank you’ he said, as you faced Lestat.

“Will you keep that stupid look on your face, or will you speak?” you asked.

“I didn't know it was okay for me to do so,” he chuckled.

“Y/n is willing to compromise, she hasn't said it verbally, but she does still love you,” Louis spoke, as you stared at the two of them.

“Ma chérie, if I could take back what I've said, what I’ve done-

“But you can't”

“I can't, and I will have to live with the burden of knowing I hurt you and Louis both, your role in Claudia’s life was never a problem, I am sorry, my love,” he said, walking to you, falling to his knees in front of you. His head laid against your stomach, and he continued to apologize profusely.

“To have you look at me, after months of refusal, even if it is a look of anger, is to see heaven,” he said, looking up at you. Reaching for his hand, you helped him stand, pecking his lips. Holding your hand out for Louis, as soon as he was close enough, your lips were on his soft skin.

Pushing Lestat onto the bed, you straddled his lap, rolling your hips, as Louis stood behind you, kissing your neck. Leaning down, you wrapped your hands around his neck.

“I’ll forgive you, but if you ever do anything remotely similar, I’ll make sure you burn in the sun, and I’ll wear you as makeup,” you said, making him smirk.

“Anything you say, although the thought of me being on your face, arouses me greatly,” he said, watching as you pulled Louis onto the bed, moving over to him.

Your nearly decade-long monogamy had now come to an end, sharing the night with Louis and Lestat. You had forgotten how spontaneous he was, managing to pleasure both of you.

‘Have you taken him back, like Louis?’ Claudia asked.

‘For now’ you thought, as Lestat kissed along your shoulder blade.

‘Do you think Louis will help?’

‘He will’

‘Do you think it will work?’

‘I don't know, my child, but we will try’

‘We can do it, mama, he wants to keep you and Louis for himself, he hates me and would probably kill me if it meant having you both alone’

‘I know’

Now lying in bed, Lestat in between you and Louis, both of you in his arms.

“I hope you will allow me to continue to prove myself to you, and I am lost without either of you, I feel empty without you both here with me, I love you,” he spoke, you couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered.

“Then it is official, we will kill Lestat’

‘And if our plan doesn't work?’

‘Then we escape to Europe, we find other vampires, and we rebuild our lives there, does that sound okay?”

‘It sounds perfect’

‘Great, good night mama’

‘Good night, my child’

Looking up at Lestat’s face, he lay peacefully, his eyes shut, face relaxed. He was incredibly handsome, you didn't dare tell Claudia but coming to this room, you were just as weak as Louis. Would you be able to kill this beautiful man, the love of your life? Or run away and live an eternity with your daughter? You couldn't decide anymore, only time would tell.

brotha eughhh, this was so mid

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac x reader #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #louis x reader

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winterchimez · 3 months ago

Text

Heart's Detour | Jeon Jungkook

SUMMARY: there has been a rise in kidnapping cases in town, and your brother feared for your safety and decided to send someone who would keep you safe in the meantime. what you least expected was that the biker gang's leader was the one your brother had gotten for you, thinking that this could probably be the biggest mistake you'll ever make in your life.

PAIRING: biker!Jungkook x afab!reader (feat. lieutenant!Seokjin)

GENRE: biker au, angst, crime, fluff, thriller, slight suggestive

WARNINGS: nc-17, flirty & delulu kookie 😃👍, slow-burn, pet names (sweetheart, princess, kitten), violence, action scenes (certain parts may contain slight bit of gory content), mentions of weaponary (guns), minor characters death, blood, betrayal, mentions of crime (kidnapping and human trafficking), slight mention about sex, traumatic backstories, mentions about mental well-being/health, Jungkook is shirtless at one point 👀, kissing, making out, yn also flirts back but it's only to keep Jungkook in place 🫡

WORD COUNT: 22,779

A/N: my very first bangtan fic!! if you thought this seems familiar, it's bcs i have written this originally for tbz Sunwoo which you can access here !! i just love this baby so much and somehow...kookie just fits the story too well. so here it is & i hope you'll enjoy!

“Oh my god, you look like my next big mistake.”

That was the first thing that escaped right out of your mouth as the familiar figure pulled into the driveway. You already knew who it was—that black leather jacket, the black helmet that covered his breathtaking look (as much as you didn’t want to admit it), and the slightly worn-out boots he always wore.

It was the moment he took his helmet off and shook his hair to clear his vision so that he would always look straight at you and smile before you decided to ruin the mood.

“Now that’s just rude. I was nice enough to accept your brother’s request to come pick you up.”

“What makes you think I’d go with you, Jungkook? You’re one of our district's most dangerous human beings,” you deadpanned.

“Look sweetheart, it’s either you hop on, or I’ll leave you behind. For your information, I would still drag your ass to ride my baby because I would not want to be fed to the hound dogs by your brother.”

With his reply, you quickly glanced around the area you were in to find that it was dead silent and empty and that it was already going to be midnight as you glanced at your watch. Knowing that you didn’t have a choice, you reluctantly grabbed the helmet Jungkook was extending to you and placed it over your head.

He smirked at your reaction, knowing very well how he was the only option to get back home. Before he did the same, he hopped back into his vehicle.

“Grab on.” That was the last thing he said before covering down his face shield as he started the engine. As you gently wrapped your arms around his wrist, he gave the throttle a few twists. Instantly, the bike propelled forward, and you were both on the road.

It wasn’t unusual for your brother Seokjin to cancel on you and be unable to pick you up from your job location on the city's outskirts. You knew deep down that he was always busy with his job back at the station. He was one of the lieutenants of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Department, after all. When duty calls, he has to stay behind and arrange transport for you instead.

You have repeatedly reassured him that you could take the bus back home or figure out how to deal with matters like this on your own. However, your brother insisted that you were not to take the public transport back as there has been a sudden rise in crimes in the city.

Additionally, the town you resided in was infamous for the biker gangs, the one that the man in front of you was part of. Nobody dared to come close to them, fearing for their lives as they were capable of doing the worst possible things you could’ve imagined. But it was part of their persona that they always kept up with, as it helped them stay safe from potential dangers or threats against them.

Hence, you have never understood why your brother, who was part of the police force, would associate with a man like Jeon Jungkook. As far as you and the public knew, he was the leader of the biker gang in Seoul. As soon as his name was mentioned, the public would keep a distance and fear the man himself. But because of how often you have interacted with the man, you find him to be the complete opposite of the image he painted towards the public.

In reality, he was a goofy guy and not as terrifying nor harmful as the public had determined him to be. He was careless at times, getting all ahead of himself, which completely paints the picture of him being delusional. At times, you would tease him about something, and that was when you realised he gets scared easily. Talk to him about a ghost story, and you can guarantee that he was going to piss his pants even before you even reached the climax of your story.

In other words, he always looked out for you in your brother’s absence, and he would lurk behind the shadows somewhere, ensuring you would be all alright. You were pretty sure that he probably signed some sort of deal or contract with your brother to do so because who were they to spend most of their life looking out for a young adult like you?

You were definitely grateful for that, as much as you would never admit it straight up to Jungkook’s face; you just couldn’t understand why a biker leader like him would associate with you and your brother.

As you both rode for a bit, you eventually found yourselves back in the heart of Seoul. There was something about riding a bike as you took in the breathtaking view as the wind rushed past your tousling hair, sending this thrilling sensation down your spine.

If you were with a complete stranger, it would have set off so many alarms in your mind because of the multiple biker stories you have heard from the news and your brother.

But somehow, for some reason, riding with Jungkook has always made you feel comfortable and safe.

Perhaps it was why you decided to hop on with him in the first place. It was your first time riding his bike with him, yet you weren’t too mad about the idea. In fact, you were kind of grateful that your brother set up such arrangements.

It didn’t take you both long enough before Jungkook eventually dropped you off right at your doorstep. You got off the bike with ease and handed the helmet back to him as you walked up to your front door porch. Right before you decided to turn the doorknob to open the door, you turned your head back to see that Jungkook was still there looking at you.

“You’re not going to kidnap me, aren’t you?”

“Come on, you actually think that I’m a pervert? What makes you think so, sweetheart?”

“Many reasons,” you spat.

“Rude.”

“I’ll take that.”

“Well, now that you’re back home safe and sound, I’ll finally take my leave. Let your brother know about it.”

With one final glance, he lifted his feet on the ground back up to his bike before twisting the throttle again to give his motorcycle an immediate surge of power, and he sped quickly out from your neighbourhood.

As you got into the comforts of your home, you made yourself comfortable before sending your brother Seokjin a text to tell him that you were safe and sound before tucking yourself into bed.

Throughout the night, you just couldn’t help but ponder why the biker’s leader would actually care or even listen to the law enforcement to escort you back home. He couldn’t have cared less and certainly had much more pressing matters than dealing with a young adult like you.

As you tossed and turned in your bed, that question remained in your mind, keeping you wide awake all night.

Jeon Jungkook, just who or what exactly are you?

“So you’re my personal babysitter now?”

You were chilling at your local coffee shop, rushing up your remaining assignments due the following week. You were still a university student before your part-time job and had no choice but to sacrifice most of your sleep and free time to deal with pressing matters.

Just as you were typing away on your laptop, a familiar figure suddenly approached you with two cups of iced macchiato in both hands before he plopped down on the seat right across you and handed you one of the drinks. You raised an eyebrow at him, making him stop sipping his coffee away.

“Brother’s orders,” he replied.

You had no idea why exactly Seokjin was doing all of this. In fact, he hasn’t been coming home much for the past week as he had been caught up with work at his station, which is also where you assumed he was sleeping for the time being. During his absence, the infamous biker leader sitting in front of you has been personally coming to pick you up from work every single day.

You thought that since you were off to focus on your studies this whole week, you would finally take a break from the delusional man himself. It turns out you were wrong, and he was here with you in the coffee shop you once called your comfort place.

You didn’t entirely hate this guy, though; it was more of questioning why he was associating with you more often now as one of the town’s most feared individuals. Naturally, that also caused the people around you to give you the side-eye or just avoid you like the plague, all thanks to the one and only Jeon Jungkook.

There was a moment of silence between you two as you continued typing away on your laptop. It wasn’t long before the male bent over to peek at your laptop screen to see what you were working with.

“Don’t even bother helping me," you replied bluntly.

“You never know I might be an expert in your field of work.”

You sighed. “Jeon Jungkook. It’s literature.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be the biker gang leader for no reason. I’ve got great communication skills, after all.”

“For your information, it’s about writing a 2000 essay review on William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.”

Upon hearing the novel's name, he immediately grinned widely before scooting his chair closer to you, giving you this puppy look that he was now very intrigued by your work.

“Oh my god, Romeo and Juliet is my absolute favourite! Mark my words when I tell you I am a huge fan of romance novels or TV shows!”

You sighed in defeat when he began reading the essay that you have written so far; you could tell that he was the type not to let go of something that piqued his interest. He was even reading it very diligently, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that sight.

“Hey, don’t look down on me. Just so you know, I aced all of my tests back in school and was a model student.”

“Hmm, questionable, but I will take that.”

Just like that, the time seemed to pass as quickly as possible, and you were even surprised by how much knowledge he had about the classic novella itself. It was intriguing to find out that he got invested in the topic and was able to help you brainstorm specific ideas that you could add on to make your essay much more sophisticated.

Right when you were about to type away to finish up the final parts of your essay, you suddenly felt a little tap on your shoulders, which made you turn your head back to see who it was. Once you laid your eyes upon them, you quickly shot up from your chair and gave them a big hug.

“Kisa! Where exactly have you been? Everyone at work has missed you so badly.” You hugged your former co-worker tightly, rubbing your cheeks together even as it had been months since you had last seen each other.

“I know. Things have been rough recently, and I had no choice but to take a short leave.”

“You could have at least told us what was going on, Kisa. Weren’t we all your closest buds around town?”

She chuckled. “I guess.”

There was a little awkward moment of silence between you two, which you thought was a bit odd as Kisa used to be an excellent talker who would always have a topic ready up her sleeves. You quickly examined the look in her eyes, and you could tell that something was off; it almost felt as if she was trying to tell you something, but she couldn’t for some reason.

Hence, you decided to ask her. “Hey Kisa, is everything alright—”

“You know, Y/N! There is this new cafe right towards the end of the street where we could go that serves your favourite croffles. It’s been a while, so why don’t we catch up for a bit?” Kisa asked rather hastily.

You could sense that something was off from her tone of voice and speech, and you desperately wanted to find out at this point.

“Yeah, of course! Let’s head off—”

“I’m sorry, but she won’t be able to join you today.”

Immediately, Jungkook grabbed your wrist, pulled you back towards him and wrapped his hands around your shoulders.

“You see, Y/N is actually on a date with me today. Perhaps the both of you could do it some other time? I apologise for that, Miss.” Jungkook replied with a smile on his face, and that immediately made Kisa back off.

“Y-Yeah, of course! I’m so sorry to have bothered you, Y/N. I’ll see you sometime again soon!”

Instantly, Kisa turned her heel and dashed towards the front door. Just like that, your co-worker you haven’t seen for months disappeared into thin air once again. You quickly darted your face back to Jungkook, trying to interrogate him as to why on earth he had done what he did.

“Jeon Jungkook, I knew you were delusional, but that doesn’t mean you could do that to me—”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Jungkook immediately cut you off and quickly helped take all your belongings for you as he pushed you towards the front door, right towards his bike. Once you both had strapped on, Jungkook immediately took speed and quickly drove away. During the entire ride home, it was obvious that he knew or saw something, as you felt his whole body was all tense up as you wrapped your arms around him.

He was awfully quiet too, not even sparring a glance back at you during the journey, and that alone was weird enough for you since he would always joke around and shout aloud amidst the busy traffic to make sure that you were still able to converse with him.

But no, not this time.

Once he dropped you off at your front porch, he kept scanning the area around your house and wouldn’t even try to speak with you. When you finally removed the helmet and handed it back to him, he quickly grabbed your wrist again, and his grip tightened against yours.

“Whatever you do, stay at home for now. Do not leave unless it is me or your brother who answers the door,” he spoke firmly, making sure you get that through your head before he finally let go of your grip.

This was the infamous biker leader you grew up listening to rumours about how he was cold in reality, and as to why so many people were terrified of him. There was this aura around this man, and that whatever came out from his mouth, he meant business, and he wasn’t the type to joke around when he set his mind on something. It was also the deathly cold stare he gave that scared so many people, including you right now as you witness them firsthand in person.

Giving him a little nod, he lets go of your grip so you can finally head up to open your locked front door. Once you had turned the doorknob and taken your first step in, you glanced behind again to see that he was still giving you that cold death stare. To be honest, it terrified you a little, and you knew that you couldn’t ask what the whole fiasco happened back at the cafe, at least not for now.

With that, you walked right into the comforts of your house and closed the door shut, eyes still glued towards that cold death stare from the biker leader. You tried your best to distract yourself by cleaning up the house a little and getting yourself all cosy and ready for bed while sparing a few glances at your windows to see that Jungkook was still there, staring directly at your house, or rather, at you.

It wasn’t until the clock finally struck midnight that Jungkook decided it was time to leave you alone as he drove off and disappeared.

Whatever happened today was enough for you to finally conclude that something was up, and you needed to know. It surely must not have just been a pure coincidence that Jungkook has been popping up in your life just like that out of the blue, and how your brother actually trusted him and asked that he took care of you in his place, and with what happened today at the cafe with Kisa.

Something was definitely up, and you needed answers. Immediately.

You couldn’t care less if you were to be scolded by your big brother. When you woke up this morning, you quickly called for a taxi to take you to your brother’s station. It took a while to convince the ones at the reception that your brother was one of the lieutenants, so they had to call Seokjin and make him personally come down to escort you.

Seokjin's eyes widened upon seeing you, but the moment he saw your face, he knew that you came here for a good reason and that you weren’t just here for a visit.

After passing through the multiple securities, you finally ended up in his office on one of the top floors. Luckily, things weren’t too busy, so your brother had some time to spare with you.

“Hey sis, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to come home lately nor pick you up from work. It’s just that I have had so many cases to deal with—”

“Seokjin, I need answers.” You cut him off.

It was the look that you had in your eyes that made it absolutely clear to Seokjin that you weren’t leaving until you had the answers that you desperately wanted. It has always been like this for you, even when you were a child. You were persistent and would do anything to get whatever you wanted. With you seated on the couch in his office, you leaned back slightly and crossed your arms and legs, indirectly telling your brother to do the same.

Seokjin let out a deep sigh before he finally got himself comfortable and placed a hot cup of freshly brewed tea he had made just for you right onto the table, pushing it towards you before he finally sat down across the couch from you.

It took a moment for him to rub his palms together before lifting up his face to look directly at you.

“Y/N, please know that I’m doing everything I can to keep you safe at all times—”

“Not that, Seokjin. Just cut to the chase, please.”

“It’s…well, long story short, there have been multiple cases of young girls who have been going missing for the past couple of weeks. And we have been searching high and low for clues but to no avail.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he finally spat out what had been bugging him for weeks.

“Okay? And what does that have to do with you sending the infamous Jeon Jungkook to care for me?”

“You’ll be needing him, Y/N. I promise he will surely be looking out for you, no matter what.”

“Well, that’s reassuring to know. But why, Seokjin? Since when have you ever associated yourself with a dangerous man like him?” You questioned.

This time, you could tell that your brother was slightly hesitant in his next words and struggled to come up with possible answers that would please your curiosity.

“That’s…something I can’t say for now. But you will eventually find out yourself soon.”

You scoffed before standing up and raising your voice towards your brother. “Seokjin, I came all the way out here to hear answers from you, my own brother. The fact that what happened at the cafe last night was odd enough, to the point that Jungkook even gave me this death stare warning me as if I may be in danger or something. I have no idea what exactly you both are planning, but you better tell me everything from the beginning for God’s sake, right this second.”

There was this apologetic look in his eyes as he stared right back at your now-turning-red face, standing up and placing both hands on your shoulders, trying to calm you down. It was then, all of a sudden, that there was a knock on his door, and he instructed whoever it was to come in. It was one of his subordinates, and he was summoned to the chief’s office to discuss the missing cases further.

Before Seokjin left the room, he turned back to grab his jacket quickly and hastily put it on while speaking to you for one last time.

“Stay here, Y/N. I’ll drop you back home after I’m done with this meeting. I’ll try my best to return as soon as possible.”

Within seconds, Seokjin and his subordinate rushed out of the room and closed the door shut. Now that your brother was gone, there was no way that you would just sit back and relax, knowing that there have been cases of young girls going missing around town. You needed to learn more about this, even if your brother isn’t willing to tell you anything more about it.

You decided to salvage through his work desk, opening up each cabinet to see if you could find anything useful regarding the case. Scanning through the multiple files that he had kept away nicely, it seemed as if your brother might have taken the file that contained potential evidence or information about the missing girls, so you were left with nothing that could give you a bit of an insight to what exactly was going around in town.

That was until you discovered a little slip of paper peeking through one of the files.

You quickly took it out from the folder, and a smirk began to form on your face as you read through the information on that little piece of paper.

“If you’re not going to tell me, Seokjin, I’ll figure all this out myself then.”

With the last remaining pocket money you had, you managed to hail a taxi to bring you to the specified location that was written on that little piece of paper. However, you gave the driver a slightly different route than the one from the paper, for you knew that no ordinary citizen would ever step foot within the infamous territory.

The moment you stepped out of the vehicle, you assumed that you would be walking for about a good ten minutes before you were able to arrive at the exact location. You didn’t mind that in the slightest bit—you just needed to find the right person to ask the questions that have been gruelling in the back of your mind.

The walk towards the location wasn’t exactly smooth as you had to pass through the woods to get there undetected. It was already dark out then, so you had to rely on your handy-dandy torchlight from your phone to guide you through the woods. It felt eerie, and the crackling sounds as you stepped on the branches scattered across the ground didn’t help in the slightest bit.

But you had to remind yourself that you came here constantly for a purpose: no matter what, you weren’t going home empty-handed. With the best of your abilities, you pushed through and eventually, arrived after almost an hour of walking, where, in reality, it would’ve taken you ten minutes if you didn’t spend most of the time getting lost in the woods.

What mattered was that you were finally at the location, and upon first inspection, it was a vast empty parking lot filled with motorcycles from one end to another. Thankfully, there were multiple huge metal transport boxes that filled the area, so you sneakily stepped out from the woods and ran to the closest one to hide.

You decided to sneak your head out a little and peek through the corners of the box, and as expected, you were able to spot several individuals towards the far end of the parking lot. Some of them were leaning against their bikes as they drank to their heart’s content while chatting away, while others were ultimately passed out and fast asleep in the empty garage at the centre.

Judging from the location you were at now, it was nearly impossible to hear precisely what those individuals were talking about. If you want to get your hands on concrete evidence, you have got to move closer.

With a quick dash, you ran towards box by box while trying your best to be undetected. Each time you managed to get from one box to another, you always gave yourself a quiet sigh of relief and tried your best to calm your beating heart down.

Okay, just a few more boxes to go. I can do this—

Instantly, someone came up from behind to cup your mouth with their hands while the other was wrapped around your chest, trying to calm your muffling sounds down.

“What in God’s mind were you even thinking of stepping foot in this place?”

That voice. It belonged to the person you have been longing to find in the first place.

“J-Jungkook,” you muffled as his hands still cupped your mouth.

At that moment, both of you heard footsteps coming closer to where you were and knew you were about to be cornered. There was no reason for an outsider like you to be present in the biker gang’s territory, and you would pretty much be skinned alive if you were to be found.

Time was ticking, and you needed to think of a way to get out of here undetected.

But thankfully, it seemed as if Jungkook had everything under control.

Or so you thought.

Just when the few bikers came around the corner, a loud gasp came from them as they witnessed the sight beyond them. Never in a million years would they have caught their boss making out with some random stranger in their base.

“U-Uh, boss? What exactly is going on?” One of the bikers stammered, hoping that the question asked wouldn’t get him into trouble.

It took a few seconds for Jungkook to turn his head to look at them with his face looking like a mess as if he had just had a steamy kissing session with whoever he was with, as he was also trying his best to protect your identity by pushing your head down towards the crook of his neck.

The bikers gulped at the sight, but Jungkook quickly gave them a plausible answer for now.

“You see, this little one has gotten some valuable information from us, and I’m just doing a favour to get them cough up whatever shit that they know and to ruin them a little bit for some fun.” He smirked.

That was enough to shut the bikers up, and then they quickly brushed it off, telling their boss that they would get a quick smoke to loosen up a bit. As they finally walked away and the coast was clear, Jungkook immediately lifted your head to get you to face him directly. He could tell you were beyond speechless and there was this unreadable emotion on your face.

Confused? Mad? Upset? Maybe all of it at once.

But that didn’t stop him from dragging you out of that place as he quickly brought you back into the woods, going through the dark passageway once again until you both ended up back on the road you originally came from.

That was when you finally freed yourself from his grasp, and you began raising your voice at him, even if you didn’t mean to.

You didn’t know what you were feeling at this point either—one thing for sure is that you definitely felt overwhelmed by everything that was happening. As much as you tried to open your mouth, the words wouldn’t come straight out. With that, Jungkook decided to help you finish your sentence instead.

“Admit it, you liked my kiss.”

Your eyes widened. “What the actual bullshit, Jeon Jungkook.”

“So now you can talk.”

God, this was starting to get to your head badly, and there was just so much vulgar language that you wanted to throw at the man in front of you. But it seems that Jungkook was once a step ahead of you.

“You’re up to no good, princess.”

“What do you even know, Jungkook-”

“I have a pretty good guess that you came without telling your brother, or rather, against his orders.”

You absolutely hated that Jungkook knew precisely what was going on in your mind and how he could read you perfectly. It was as if you were just plain as day—your discreet movements or actions you’ve tried to keep secret will always be revealed quickly against your own will.

Eventually, you decided to give in. “Fine. I did.”

“Now, someone is not being a good sibling, aren’t they? Might have to report back to big brother Seokjin, and someone’s going to get some timeout—”

Before Jungkook could finish his sentence, you quickly stomped towards him and grabbed his collar, seemingly shutting him up for a moment.

“You’re going to tell me everything. Every single detail, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook already had a good guess as to why you were here in the first place. You came to find him and took the risk of visiting his hideout written on the piece of paper you found in Seokjin’s office. Mentally, he was throwing curses at your brother for not spilling the details because now he was the one who was going to do it instead.

Kim Seokjin, I sincerely hope that your microwave is going to break down so that you will be having cold meals for a period of time and that you will get your ass kicked by your CEO for not having much progress in the missing cases.

From your not-so-nice friend, Jeon Jungkook.

As much as you almost exerted this fiery aura, Jungkook did not flinch in the slightest. He was used to things like this anyway; he was the biker gang’s leader after all. Instead, he grinned back at you.

“You clearly have lost your mind thinking that you can manipulate the biker leader to spill out the deeds for you. It seems that you have not experienced why exactly the public fear about us, Y/N.”

This time, he slowly takes a step forward little by little, and you slowly begin to back off while your hands remain on the collar of his shirt.

“Let me tell you a little something, Y/N. The moment when you stepped within our territory, you were just as good as dead meat.” Jungkook continued.

Another step forward.

“Do you know why the public fear us, Y/N? We are predators. And predators hunt for prey who messes with us.”

Another step forward.

“And you little innocent citizens of Seoul have officially become our prey because no one messes with us. I mean, no one. You have chosen death when you decided even to come close to us.”

Another step forward.

“So you might as well say your last words before I devour you up, hmm?” Jungkook then stops at his track as he leans forward so that both of your faces are mere inches away, and he closes his eyes while giving you the biggest smile you have seen just yet.

That alone was enough to shake you to your core.

It was just as portrayed in books and TV shows, on how smiles make the villains ten times worse than they are. When a villain smiles, you drop everything and run for it.

If only that were what exactly you did.

You straighten your posture before you spit back at him. “You won’t have the guts to do that to me, Jeon Jungkook.”

“And what makes you think that, sweetheart?”

“Because you love me,” you spat.

Upon hearing those words, the smile immediately fell from his face, and a shocked expression replaced it. Jungkook quickly backed off and took a few steps back away from you.

Bingo.

“N-No, I don’t.” Jungkook chuckled.

“Jokes on you, young man—you were literally head over heels for me, that’s why you agreed to babysit me in the first place.”

You instantly noticed how flushed his face was getting as he quickly cupped both sides of his face with his hands, trying to calm the heat down. But that did not stop you from moving towards him now as you continued taunting him.

“You know, I think your fellow bikers would be delighted to hear that their boss was in love with a commoner like me, don’t you think? I’m sure the biker community loves to hear romance since you boys have been angsty all year.”

“No no no! Not the biker community! I’m supposed to be a cool leader everyone looks up to and worship goddamit!” He was now covering his ears like a little child.

Oh, Jeon Jungkook, you indeed are such a sucker for romance.

Finally, you took the final steps and stood before him, placing both hands upon his shoulders, and you returned a devilish smile.

“I think someone’s got a good explanation to do before I feed him to my brother’s hound dogs back at the station.”

“Kim Y/N, I absolutely would love to ruin your makeup right now.”

“Jeon Jungkook, I absolutely would love to throw you straight into the river right now.”

After that confrontation on the empty road, you both decided to take this whole conversation elsewhere before any of the bikers made their way out to confront you two again.

So you hopped back onto Jungkook’s bike and drove a little to the well-known spot in Seoul, Han River.

Since Jungkook had barely recovered from your counterattack before, he was clearly distracted as he droved through the city, constantly putting out this pout and sulky expression on his face, making you want to tease him more.

Occasionally, you would purposely snake your hands up to his abdomen to his chest, which made the male squirm and his body tense upon the contact, making him cry out loud, for God’s sake, and somehow apologise throughout the entire ride.

The moment you both got to the river, Jungkook immediately asked you to get out of his vehicle while trying to calm his pounding chest down. Unfortunately, you were nowhere near done wrecking the bike leader, so you snaked your arms around him as you dragged him out from his bike, taking them down to one of the stairs facing the river.

Jungkook was not in the right mind and was trying his best to counterattack, which at one point he did. But thanks to the taekwondo classes you took back in the day, you quickly turned the tables around.

So now Jeon Jungkook was the one pinned to the ground while you were hovering above him, pinning both his hands above his head while your legs kept his in place, leaving him no room to move around.

“If only being delusional wasn’t my weakness, I swear Y/N…”

“Tell that to the ones who created you. They were the ones to cast this spell upon you.”

“What do I get if I tell you the truth?”

You paused for a moment. What were you going to repay him exactly?

But since you were already keeping up with this facade a couple of hours ago, you might as well continue the seeds that you have planted.

“A kiss from me to you.”

Upon hearing those words, the male smirked before finally closing his eyes and let loose his body slightly.

“Fine, Y/N. You win.”

With that, you also did the same by slowly releasing your grip on his arms, knowing well how he wouldn’t be counterattacking you soon.

“What I am about to tell you, Y/N… I’m not exactly sure if you’re able to stomach it all, to be honest.”

“Nothing as bad as the cases that my brother has done, I bet.”

“Fair. Your brother deals with brutal homicide cases, after all.”

Jungkook then propped himself up, and you decided to give him some space by getting off him and sitting cross-legged at his side. It took Jungkook a moment to gather his thoughts before finally telling you the whole story.

“Y/N, did you realise why I dragged you away on that day you met that co-worker of yours?”

“You meant Kisa?”

“Did you notice anything strange about her?”

“Well, yeah I kind of did. Her demeanour was setting off many red flags in my mind for sure,” you replied. The thought about Kisa once again made you frown; you have been constantly worrying about her since that day.

“I’ll tell you right now that she is one of the girls who had gone missing for the past couple of months.”

Missing? Is she related to the missing person cases that your brother was dealing with then?

“The fact that she has reappeared all of a sudden was strange enough, and luckily, I noticed a barcode tattooed right behind her ear.”

Barcode? What exactly was going on?

Jungkook noticed how perplexed you were with the whole situation and sighed before continuing with his words.

“Y/N, I think you do know what happens when someone is tattooed with a barcode on different parts of their body, don’t you?”

No. It can’t be. You knew exactly what it meant, but you wouldn’t have expected it to happen to someone close to you, let alone to one who has suddenly disappeared from your radar, only for them to reappear out of the blue.

“No, you don’t mean it.”

“Come on, Y/N. You know exactly how crime works in Seoul, especially in our district—it’s corrupted, and plenty of cases like this go unnoticed because the culprits can often get away undetected.”

That can’t be true—you absolutely can’t accept the fact that Kisa was a victim of human trafficking.

You slowly began to stammer in your speech. “S-So, you basically saved my life back there and then.”

“If you want to put it that way, I guess I did.”

This time, Jungkook decided to scooch a little bit closer to you, and the tone in his voice dropped as if he was now whispering what crucial detail he was about to say next.

“Y/N, why did you think your brother made a deal with me to follow you wherever you go?”

You decided to break the tension in the air slightly by making a little joke. “I’d like to think it was your idea instead because you have committed to being my stalker.”

“Calling me a stalker is flat-out rude, Y/N. Especially after all that I have done for you,” he sulked.

You were glad Jungkook could still joke around with you slightly to ease the tension.

“Fine, to keep me safe then.”

“That’s one for sure, but also because we made a pact to crack these cold cases together without the superiors in the station knowing a thing about this.”

Huh. “So you’re a biker detective now?”

“Yeah, a very cool one at that too. I saved your life not once but twice. Seokjin should give me a pay raise, let’s be honest.”

“What do you mean you actually suck at your job. You have to have someone’s consent first before you start making out with them, especially in public.” You slightly blushed at that comment. You certainly weren't going to tell him that he took your first kiss away, and you hoped that your surroundings were dark enough so that Jungkook wasn’t able to see clearly that your ears were beginning to look bright red as a tomato right now.

Unfortunately for you, he was a romance fanatic, so obviously, he could tell that you were embarrassed to say all of that. It was his sign to strike back now.

“Oh honey, that kiss was a little extra from your care package that your brother signed you up for. You should be grateful that you get an extra treatment from me.” He took a string of your hair and started twirling around his fingers.

“….shut up.” You muttered.

Oh god, how much he was enjoying this whole moment right there.

The next thing that happened was that he moved closer again and cupped both of your cheeks with his hands before leaning his forhead against yours.

“What in the world are you even thinking of doing—”

“Y/N, listen to me closely about what I am about to say next, and I will only say it once.”

That made all of the embarrassment from earlier die down. Judging from the look in his eyes, you knew things were about to get serious next.

“Another reason why your brother personally asked for me to care for you for the time being was because he knew that something bad was going to happen real soon.”

“Something bad?”

“You see, we have been working together on this case for months now. With our thorough investigations, it’s clear that whoever was the mastermind behind all of this may actually be someone we are acquainted with.”

“Someone much closer to us, that is.”

Your eyes widened upon that last sentence, and you knew this case was far worse than you thought. It was a life-and-death situation if either of you let your guard down. If that was the case, it also meant that you weren’t the only one in danger.

Bracing yourself, you slowly and reluctantly asked Jungkook something that you hoped it was just yourself thinking way further ahead than you should.

“S-Seokjin isn't going to die, isn’t he?”

Jungkook didn’t reply, but he stared straight into your eyes. With that, your eyes became teary, and you were on the verge of crying out silently. You knew that Seokjin’s job always evolved around dangerous criminals, and there’s no guarantee that he might come home each day in one piece; he had accepted his fate ever since he took on the badge in the first place.

But now, with the recent events and how he had placed you under Jungkook’s care, you knew that this was far worse than any of you had encountered before.

Tears began dripping down your face, and Jungkook lightly brushed his fingers against your cheek to wipe them away.

“Y/N, from now on, I’m afraid you should stay as far away from your brother as possible. In other words, you’ll be stuck with me for now.”

“That doesn’t mean that I won’t be seeing him anymore, isn’t it?” You sobbed.

Jungkook smiled. “Of course not. It is so that both of us can conduct our investigation much more smoothly without outsiders intruding on our plan. I promise you, I won’t let your brother die. That would also mean that the lives of both you siblings are at my outermost top priority now.”

“Why Jungkook? Why would a biker leader like you even associate with us law enforcement? Didn’t you and your people hate us for decades?”

He chuckled before placing a kiss on the top of your forehead.

“Kim Seokjin saved me and gave me another chance at life. And I am going to return the favour.”

It has been ten minutes since the both of you were back on the road again. You were trying to take in all of Seoul’s beautiful night views, as you might not see them for a while.

After calming yourself down at Han River, Jungkook filled you in with everything you needed to know before you both took off back on the road. Based on what your brother and Jungkook have been able to investigate so far, they decided that it was safe to conclude that the mastermind was either someone within the biker community or one of the higher-ups from the police agency. That was precisely why your brother was in a tight situation and was at risk of falling into the hands of the enemy since he was one of the lieutenants and had no control over his superiors.

It was precisely why Seokjin decided it was best for you to keep a distance from him at the moment, for the fear that you might fall into the hands of the enemy. Hence, giving you to Jungkook for now would mean that you had a higher chance of survival—being a biker meant that Jungkook was able to move around much more freely compared to a detective who was bound by rules that he had to abide by at all times.

In the meantime, Jungkook has also been on the go trying to figure out who the traitor within the biker’s community was who started all of this. According to the male, he guessed that someone from the detective agency was manipulating and might even be paying the traitor within the biker gang a large sum of money to traffick these young ladies out of the country. Since the bikers usually hunt out late at night, there was no doubt that the victims would have been vulnerable against them and quickly fell into their hands.

In order to keep you safe, and since Jungkook has practically told you the entire plan, he has no choice but to bring you along on his investigations; as much as he hated that idea and he would much prefer locking you away somewhere where you could lay down low until the whole crime spree is over.

However, he knew that you would be much safer if you were within his sight range, and he would feel much more comfortable knowing that you were always near him.

He has learnt it the hard way before anyway.

As you both ride through the night and out away from Seoul, there is this anxious feeling rotten deep within your gut—you are terrified, knowing now that you have finally fallen victim to the dark, corrupted crime world in Seoul.

With that, your arms wrapped around Jungkook’s waist tightened, and you gently laid your cheeks against his back. You just wished this ride with Jungkook could have happened at a much better time and under better circumstances.

“Damn, Jeon Jungkook. Who knew you’d have a hideout in the middle of nowhere?”

You were astounded with the entire place. It was located outside of town, and it took the both of you about a two-hour ride to get to this place, which was eventually in the middle of the wilderness. You thought building a simple cabin here was a genius idea because chances of survival were much higher, especially for Jungkook, who lives a dangerous life each day.

As Jungkook guided and led you up to the steps of his front door, he inserted a key and unlocked the front door within seconds, and your jaw dropped the moment he turned on the lights that lit up the entire cabin.

“Welcome to my safe space, Y/N.”

Upon further inspection, you could tell that the entire cabin was built meticulously—from the sturdy timber that formed the walls, the simple yet captivating decor that filled the entire place, and the cosy fireplace that stood right at one of the corners of the living space. The entire place just felt comforting; even a stranger would agree when they stepped into this place in the woods.

Jungkook noticed you had been slowly moving around the cabin, taking in all its glory. He decided that he wouldn’t be ruining this little moment you have and went straight into the pantry to whip up some hot cocoa for the two of you.

It all felt too good to be true. You have only seen or read places like this in books or films; never in a million years would you have thought that you would get a chance to reside, let alone step into a place like this at all. It was as if you were living in a dream, and you just wished you could shut off the outside world for a while and relax in this place for as long as possible.

As you slowly reach the fireplace, you notice how a picture frame sits at the top, depicting a young boy and a girl riding a swing at a park. You could immediately tell how it was Jungkook in that picture, but you had no idea if the young female was his sibling or, perhaps, his past lover, if he ever had one.

Before you could examine further, you heard a little thump from behind you, and you turned to see Jungkook was back with two warm mugs of freshly made hot cocoa topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. He gently placed them onto the round wooden table he had before moving to the fireplace and threw some chopped wood in before lighting it up with the lighter he kept behind his back pocket.

You slowly sit on the couch to make yourself comfortable, take one of the mugs, and sip the freshly made drink. It didn’t take long for Jungkook to join you as he sat on the couch on your left.

“I’d like to think I’m such a great host, don’t you think? I expect you to be writing a five-star review of this Airbnb on booking.com after your stay,” he smugged before bringing his mug to his lips.

“I never knew a biker gang leader like you would have a soft spot for ambience like this.”

“Hey, bikers aren’t all angsty and dark. You’d think I live for the colour black and own everything in that specific colour?”

“Don’t look at me like that. Blame the media for painting you guys exactly the way you are.”

Well, you had a point there. Ever since you met Jungkook, you realised that not all of them seemed as terrible as the public had painted them to be. Even the biker leader is the same as many young adults: desperate to find love and obsessed with shoujo mangas.

As you took another sip of the cocoa, you gulped the liquid down slowly before enjoying your little silence, listening to the crackling sound from the fireplace as you slowly started to feel your eyelids become heavy.

It has been a long day; after all, you started by storming into Seokjin’s office at the beginning of the day, trekking through the woods and finding out about the biker’s hideout, going to Han River and eventually here in Jungkook’s cabin.

From the corners of your eyes, you could see how it would be early morning now—the first tendrils of light painting the sky in hues of a mixture of lavender and indigo, indicating that it would be dawn now. It was probably about five to six in the morning, and that was the last thing you could think of before you eventually fell to your slumber.

It took Jungkook a few seconds to realise you had fallen asleep as he admired the skies from his cabin window just like you were. When he finally turned to look at your head, bending down with your eyes closed, the mug of now warm cocoa still nestled within your grasp.

Jungkook smiled at the sight of you resting comfortably like that. It reminded him so much about her. It almost felt bittersweet then, but Jungkook tried his best to get rid of those feelings before things started to get too deep again.

He slowly got up, gently opened up your fingers surrounding the mug, and took it off your hands to place it on the table. He then swooped his hands around your shoulders and under your legs before picking you up bridal style. Trying his best not to make a noise, he slowly brought you into his only bedroom in the cabin, gently laying you down on the comforts of his bed and tucking you into bed with his cosy duvet.

When he was about to get up from the bed, he felt something wrapping around his pinky before turning to see that it was from you. He couldn’t tell if you had a dream or if it was just by reflex as you wrapped your fingers around his pinky and tugged them close to you.

Jungkook smiled at the sight of you doing so, and he sat down on the bed again, gently caressing your hair as you fell deeper into your dreamland.

Y/N. I promise I will protect you at all costs and avoid making the same mistake as before.

The chirping noises were what woke you up from your slumber. You squint your eyes as you slowly open them to reveal the sunlight shining directly into the cabin. You also heard clanking noises coming beyond the closed doors, and you decided it was time to get up to check out whatever it was.

As you opened the door, your eyes widened, and your jaw dropped as you approached the dining table. It seemed as if Jungkook had made you an entire breakfast meal that looked identical to what you would get from the local diners in town. The man even took the extra step to brew you some hot coffee and placed two little jars filled with white and brown sugar so you could adjust your drink to your desired taste.

You slowly pulled the chair and sat down before Jungkook turned around from the stovetop, placing a freshly made fried sunny-side egg onto your plate, and that was when you took in what Jungkook was wearing before you eventually burst out into laughter.

“What was that about? I went the extra mile to make you breakfast.” Jungkook pouted.

“N-No, it’s not that. I never thought you were a frilly pink floral aprons type of guy.” You had to cover your mouth and fan yourself because you were laughing so hard that breathing was hard by the second.

“You stop it right there. Someone special made this apron; I will not let you disrespect it.” Jungkook was now pointing at you with his spatula, threatening that he would take your breakfast and eat it himself.

As you calmed yourself down and apologised, he finally sat beside you while still sulking because of your comment before and started cutting up his bread and sausages on the plate. When Jungkook saw that you had taken your first bite, he couldn’t help but make a sarcastic remark to lighten the mood once again.

“Hurry up and tell me that my cooking skills are top-notch.” He lifted his head high as if he was already praising himself before you even said anything.

Frankly, it tasted much better than what you had in mind. Who would’ve thought the most feared person in town was also a good cook? The fact that he was able to build this cabin on his own, cared for you, and made you a delicious meal was a bummer that he was still single at this point.

But since you have teased Jungkook since the beginning, there was no way you would tell him that and continue feeding his delusions.

“I’m surprised that I did not puke nor have an upset stomach with the initial first bite, to be honest.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You ungrateful little brat.”

“Thank you, I’ll take that.” You grinned widely at him, making him return you with disgust.

Surprisingly, breakfast then went by reasonably quickly, and you offered to help clean up the kitchen even when the male insisted that you were his guest and weren’t supposed to do anything while you were there.

After a little bit of squabbling about cleaning the cabin up, Jungkook heads out the front door, signalling for you to come with him.

“There’s this place that I think you’ll love, Y/N. Care to hop on for another ride with me?”

“Jeon Jungkook, give me your keys to your cabin right now I’m officially moving in.”

He giggled as you said that hurriedly before running down to the designated spot he brought you to. As you hopped back onto Jungkook’s bike, he took you along for another drive that only took about five minutes away from his cabin. As you both parked the bike somewhere safe, he guided you to take a step deeper into the woods, where, eventually, you both ended up at a beautiful creek.

A crystal-clear stream burbles along the riverbed, bubbling over the surrounding rocks and branches. There were a couple of stepping stones that scattered across the stream, giving whoever chose to visit to have the opportunity to walk across from one end to the other. A couple of flowers blossomed at the sides of the river, giving the creek a little pop of colour.

It was a sight to behold. Who would have thought that there was such a place near where Jungkook lived? At this point, you swore that you would label this entire outskirt as paradise, and you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life here, away from the capital's bustling streets.

You slowly made your way to the river, where you stuck one of your hands into the waters, letting the streams of water hit the back of your hand. Jungkook then made his way towards you before bending down to pick up one of the pebbles on the ground, before tossing it across the waters to see it bounce on top of the surface before eventually sinking into the waters.

“Is there anything that you can’t do, Jeon Jungkook?” You asked as you saw how he was a master at skipping stones, way better than most people could do.

“I’ve been doing this for decades, Y/N. Of course, I am the master of stone skipping.” He proudly acclaimed before picking another pebble and tossing it across the waters again.

You couldn’t help but smile at that remark. “So that means you come here often, then?”

“Used to.” He corrected you. “I haven’t been here in a very long time.”

“Well, then, I’m grateful that you decided not to gatekeep such a place from me,” you replied, sincerely thanking the man for taking you out of the cabin to come to such a place to relax.

“You’re going to be staying with me for a while; obviously, I have to keep you occupied before you start complaining out of boredom in the cabin.” He stuck out his tongue at you before tossing another pebble.

“I’m not a kid, Jungkook. I know how to keep myself occupied.” This time, it was your turn to give him a pout.

“I’m gonna bet on 10,000 korean won that you will be screaming out of frustration by the third day if you were stuck all day in that cabin of mine.”

“Then I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but I can literally find anything to do to keep myself occupied at all places.” You were now standing up and stood right in front of the man, staring at him as if you were going to start a battle of who would be the first to back down from their words.

Jungkook smirked at that sight, and it turns him on whenever you get all worked up because of his words. He wasn’t going to back down quickly, so he straightened his posture before firing back at you.

“Princess, you better buckle up because you have just turned me on, and I want to ruin your ego right now.”

“Try me then, Jeon Jungkook,” you huffed.

“Say, can you swim?”

You snorted. “Of course I can swim, what the hell—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Jungkook pushed you on your shoulders, and you fell straight into the waters. It took a few seconds before you eventually returned to the surface, wiping off the excess water dripping down your face.

“Jeon Jungkook! What the actual—”

You were screaming at the top of your lungs, ready to yell and curse your heart out towards the male before you eventually stopped. Your eyes widened at the sight of him taking off his shirt that he was wearing, revealing a well-toned body and rock-solid abs as well as an arm completely filled with tattoos from top to bottom.

He grinned before jumping into the waters and swam right up to you.

“I knew you would like what you saw with your eyes. I have been waiting for the right time to do it anyway,” he smirked before moving his fingers close to you to pinch your cheeks.

You quickly slapped his hands away before turning your back towards him, trying to calm your fast heart beating chest down. Instantly, you felt a surge of warmth slowly crawling up to your ears and cheeks, and you quickly rested both your palms on your cheeks, knowing very well that you were now blushing hard.

What is wrong with you, Y/N?

Before you could even process your thoughts further, you felt a pair of hands resting on your waist before turning your back towards the opposite direction. You have now come face-to-face with the man you were dreading to see, and you quickly turn your head towards the side and face the streaming waters instead.

You could clearly hear Jungkook’s low chuckle before he rested his fingers underneath your chin, gently turning your face back towards his direction.

“I found your weakness, princess.”

“Shut up.”

Your now red-flushed face was making Jungkook laugh while you were slowly losing your mind. All you could think of at the moment was how exactly you would get yourself out of this situation you were in.

Suddenly, you were brought back to reality as you felt Jungkook’s thumb swipe past your lips slowly, his eyes now focusing on your smudged lips as if he was hungry for it, wanting so desperately to press his lips onto them as he slowly leaned down towards them.

Oh no. Oh no.

You started to panic; you had no idea what you were supposed to do. Sure, it wasn’t the first time you kissed Jungkook, but your situation was much more different than the first.

Brace yourselves, Y/N. Just do it.

That was all that you could think of before closing your eyes tightly. It was now or never, and you surely have no escape. As you slowly waited for his warm, plump lips to land on yours again, it never came as you expected. When you slowly opened your eyelids, you saw Jungkook paused exactly an inch before both lips met.

Was he in a dilemma? Whether he should do it or not?

In the end, Jungkook broke off the tension and gave in to wrap his arms around you instead, giving you a tight hug as he rested his head under the crook of your neck.

What was going on?

“J-Jungkook…what are you—”

“Let me just stay like this for a while, Y/N.”

As he took in a couple of seconds to relax his body over yours, you slowly snaked your arms around his back and caressed his back slowly, as if that was the right thing that you thought you could do at the moment.

With your touch, he tugged you tighter before eventually speaking his first words since he turned you around to face him.

“Thank you, Y/N, for trusting me. I promise that I won’t let you down. We’ll catch whoever this mastermind is and place him behind bars for good.”

You felt reassured, knowing that you will be in good hands for now before reuniting with your brother once the cases have been resolved.

“Thank you too, Jungkook, for looking out for me and making me feel safe.”

“You slept in an upright position on the couch throughout the whole night?” You questioned the male, thinking that you might have heard something wrong.

“For the hundredth time, yes I did, Kim Y/N. I have no idea why you are making such a big fuss out of this,” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck as he closed his eyes in annoyance as if he was tired of going through this whole topic with you again.

“Well then, I suggest we swap for tonight then. It’s not fair that you have to make yourself suffer especially when you’re the owner of this cabin,” you stated clearly.

“Have you ever heard of hospitality, Y/N? There’s no way I’m letting my guests sleep uncomfortably while they’re here. I might get a rotten review on booking.com the next day, that’s for sure.”

However, you weren’t backing down so quickly. “Fine then. Why don't we share the bed for tonight, then?”

That question made Jungkook spit out the glass of water that he was drinking. He had to cough a few times to ensure the liquid flowed smoothly into his throat.

“Are you insane? There’s no way I’m sleeping with someone that’s the opposite sex,” he muttered as he continued to pound his chest while seemingly trying to stop the cough.

“Well unfortunately, I insist. I would drag you onto the bed myself if I had to. It’s not like I’m asking you to try anything funny; if you are, you wouldn’t be seeing the light of day anyways,” you stated clearly before pointing into the bedroom.

Jungkook could only let out a deep sigh before caving into your words, knowing that if you both went on and on about this, the sun would rise before any of you would get a proper good night's rest.

As you both cleaned up and got ready for bed, Jungkook watched as you climbed into the sheets and got yourself comfy before turning towards your left to sleep on your side and face the cabin wall. When he sees that you have stopped squirming, he gently lifts the sheets before doing the same, but facing towards his right so that he is facing the door instead.

It took him a while to fall asleep, unlike you, who fell into a deep slumber within seconds. He was not used to this after all, having to share a bed with someone; it has been a long time since he has done so, especially when the last person he did this was years ago with her.

Additionally, what happened down at the creek earlier in the day? Jungkook had no idea why exactly he decided to do what he did, and eventually, he couldn’t bring himself to plant a kiss on your lips and went in for a hug instead.

Deep down, Jungkook knew something was happening between you two, but he was afraid to commit or even think about the possibilities. After what happened years ago, he promised that he wouldn’t get too close to anyone unless they were the ones who saved his life big time; in this case, it was your brother, Seokjin.

But now, it seems that Seokjin’s little sibling was also slowly marking a spot in that enclosed heart of his.

Before Jungkook could even think of anything further, Jungkook slowly drifted off into his own dreamland and fell into a deep sleep like you did.

Hours had passed, and you both were sleeping peacefully until Jungkook began hearing voices in his head.

Big brother…big brother…please save me… save me from all of this…please don’t let them take me away…

Big brother…Jungkook…JUNGKOOK OPPA!!

Immediately, Jungkook shot up from his deep slumber and broke out in sweats. Sure, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to get nightmares from the past; it was something he was still working on anyway. But it has been a long time since he had the exact scenario played in his mind; it was a curse to him now.

Jungkook then brought up his fingers to rub his temples, trying his best to calm himself down without waking you, who was still peacefully sleeping on the side.

All of a sudden, Jungkook’s phone lit up from the nightstand, and he grabbed it lazily while rubbing his eyes to adjust his vision so that he could see clearly what exactly the notification that he had just gotten.

It was as if the nightmare wasn’t enough to ruin his night; the notification was far worse than whatever he had just dreamt of.

Something that he dreaded would even occur at all throughout this whole investigation process.

Kim Seokjin: This will be the last time I will be able to contact you for now. Please keep Y/N safe at all costs, and we’ll be in touch as soon as I can.

Seokjin’s POV

It had been two days since you had left the building without Seokjin’s permission. Unfortunately, the meeting lasted way longer than expected, five hours to be exact. Hence, by the time he got back into his dark office where the only source of light was the one ray of moonlight shining through the windows, his heart dropped when he noticed how you were nowhere to be seen.

Frantically, he skimmed through his entire office to see if you had left any clues behind, for the fear that you had been kidnapped, especially since you were considered to be vulnerable in the mastermind’s eyes, and how both Seokjin and Jungkook suspected that it could be someone from the biker gang or the law enforcement themselves.

After minutes of scouring the entire room, he eventually made his way to his cabinet beneath his desk, where he could tell that one of them was pulled open and the little note that he stuck out slightly on purpose every time was gone.

With that, he knew it could only mean one thing: you found the details of Jungkook’s biker gang’s hideout and went there personally to confront the biker leader himself. Swiftly, he took his phone out before hastily sending Jungkook a text.

Kim Seokjin: My sibling is headed towards your biker’s hideout. Please get there and make sure Y/N is safe at all costs.

The moment he saw that Jungkook had read his message, he finally fell back onto his chair, letting out a deep sigh of relief. As much as he was afraid that you had ventured into the predators' lair, he knew that as long as you were with Jungkook, you would be safe from any harm or danger, even if he was the biker gang leader himself.

Hence, while you were under Jungkook’s care for the time being, Seokjin was able to focus on his job and tried cracking all of the clues and codes he had received so far for the missing person’s cases, all while he tried his best maintaining contact with Jungkook to keep each other updated on the case as well as your safety through texting one another.

Things were going fairly smoothly until another missing person’s case was reported to the station just the night before. When he got to the registered location along with his subordinates, his stomach sank when he realised who had gone missing: your neighbour.

Seokjin began to panic as it only meant one thing: there was a high possibility that you would be the next target.

Since that day, Seokjin had worked tirelessly for hours without sleep or proper food. Your life is at stake right now, and he was determined that he was done playing this cat-and-mouse game with the mastermind. With that, Seokjin tried searching for as many clues as possible, even the tiniest detail possible, and he went back to the crime scene himself to thoroughly search through the area once again on his own.

As if it was a miracle, he eventually discovered a strand of hair near one of the flowerpots on your neighbour’s front porch. He quickly took the evidence he had found and ran straight back towards the lab to get the designated ones in charge to do a quick DNA test from the database to find out who it might be.

After hours of extracting the possible information, it had been concluded that it was impossible to narrow it down to a single person as too many chemicals were found on that single strand of hair follicle. But that did not stop Seokjin from finding the exact match for who it might be.

Hence, Seokjin went through all of the case files once again, starting from the first case to the most recent, as he laid all of the details out onto his board in his office, writing down all of the necessary information paired along with red strings to help him connect the dots better. He was also going back and forth towards his desktop located on his desk, trying his best to find the right person from the database.

That was when he realised he had limited access to the station’s database. He had never had such issues before, so why had he been blocked?

At that moment, he knew that his instinct was right and that the law enforcement was hiding something dark from the detectives themselves; perhaps that was why they had an excruciating time trying to gather practically limited information.

Unfortunately for the mastermind who did all of this, Seokjin was actually an expert in computer hacking. Before being promoted to lieutenant, he was a renowned hacker in his division before rising to where he is now. The codes were a little harder to crack, but that doesn't mean it was nearly impossible.

It took Seokjin about ten minutes to finally hack into the actual database, and he wasted no time trying to match the hair follicle to a concrete DNA from the database itself. Once the system concluded that there was a match, he wasted no time clicking the download button to get the information down and reveal who it was.

Sadly, he wasn’t able to record down who it was as one of the detectives came barging into his office, pointing his loaded gun at him. Seokjin was cornered, and he couldn’t do anything before the detective came over to completely shut off his desktop by pulling out the cords. Instantly, he shoved his gun towards Seokjin’s back and guided him out of his office, guiding him to the actual mastermind of this whole crime spree.

Before this happened, Seokjin had typed out a message scheduled to be sent to Jungkook if anything were to happen to him. It turns out his instinct was right, and he was slowly counting down the seconds in his heart before the time was up, and he felt his mobile vibrate in his back pocket, signalling that the message had been sent.

As he stepped into the elevator with the detective, still pointing his gun at his back, he turned around before smiling.

It’s up to you now, Jungkook.

Jungkook’s POV

“Report what exactly you have found so far, lads.”

“Certainly, boss!” The young man cleared his throat before setting up the live footage on the laptop and turning it towards his boss’s directions. “It was pretty faint, but you could see the unknown person in the camera drugging the female worker before bagging her up and dragging her body away and out from the factory.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward to try his best to make out who was on the screen, but since the crime occurred late at night. There wasn’t enough light penetrating through the facility; it was merely impossible to identify clearly who the hooded criminal was.

But Jungkook wouldn’t give up quickly, so he leaned backwards on his chair before clasping his hands and bringing them close to his face.

“Judging from the victims from the recent cases, it seemed as if they have been targeting this specific factory more often as of late. There has to be a pattern going on here,” Jungkook suggested.

Upon hearing those words from the biker’s leader, the gang member scratched his head before responding. “With that, boss, what are you trying to propose…?”

“I’m saying that they will strike there again, that’s for sure.”

“O-Oh, of course! Well, I will go get the rest of the lads ready—”

“No, you stay put till I give you boys further instructions,” Jungkook firmly decided.

“B-But, boss, what are you planning to do?”

“I’m going to check the place on my own first before letting any of you step in there. I’m not going to risk all of your lives like that.”

The young lad knew how dangerous the whole situation was at hand. Quite frankly, he was one of the lads who often kept Jungkook updated with all of the security footage that was happening around town since he was one of the bikers who had a talent for hacking into all of Seoul’s security systems without having the law enforcement notice his doing, of course.

But he knew that the boss was risking his own life by heading towards the location alone. In the worst-case scenario, Jungkook could even get seriously injured or worse. Furthermore, he knew that Jungkook’s words were absolute, and no one had ever been able to change his mind once he made a decision.

With that, the hacker placed his hands together in front of him, slightly bending his head down before obeying Jungkook’s orders.

“Very well, boss. We will await your next instructions then.”

As Jungkook picked up his speed and rode his bike back to the cabin, the only thing that lingered in his mind was how he would explain the change of plans to you. He would’ve never thought that he might have to intervene and head towards the location himself to gather information this soon, or rather, he was hoping that Seokjin could do it since he was a detective, after all.

But now that Seokjin is out of reach, Jungkook had no choice but to take up the job to prevent anyone, especially his comrades, from getting hurt or potentially losing their lives in that targetted location without getting a green flag from someone higher up first.

Another reason that he was a bit stressed out about the current situation was that it was time for him to talk to you about it; it was time for you both to make a move, and he knew that he couldn’t keep you in the dark forever, as much as he just wanted to tuck you away in this cabin of his and just stayed put and safe there while he and your brother resolved all of this messed up crime spree that was happening in the district.

It was also because that was the exact factory that you worked at. That could only mean that the chances that you may or may not be the next target were higher than they had expected.

After those train of thoughts, he finally arrived back at the cabin, and he tried his best to maintain his composure before turning the doorknob to open up the doors and calling out loud for you.

That was only until you didn’t respond that he began to panic.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you there?”

Jungkook tried his best to maintain his calm while going from room to room, calling out for you. When he had finally searched the entire cabin and that you were nowhere to be found, that was when he felt a sink in his stomach, and he was about to go insane any moment now.

He was now screaming at the top of his lungs for you while running around frantically, even as he stepped out of the cabin and walked down the steps to circle the woods nearby.

“Y/N! Y/N! Please respond to me! Where are you?!”

His heartbeat was pounding much louder and faster with each second, and he was close to shitting his pants at the moment. An instant regret filled his guts, and he wished he could’ve turned by time so that it would’ve knocked some sense into him that he shouldn’t have left you alone in the cabin, especially when both of your lives were at stake.

He wasn’t going to repeat the same mistake as he had done before. There was no way he would let history repeat itself, not under his watch.

Y/N! Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU!!!!

Suddenly, he heard a faint grunt from a distance, a little bit towards his left. An unexpected fog clouded the air, making it hard for him to see whoever was slowly coming in his direction.

With his instinct, Jungkook quickly pulled out his handgun that he tucked away beneath his leather jacket, quickly loaded the gun and aimed it towards the shadow approaching him.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the shadow emerged from the fog, and that was when he finally made out that it was the person he had been longing to find.

“Jungkook! You’re back!” You smiled while carrying a box filled with freshly picked fruits in your arms.

Jungkook then slowly lowered down the gun and stared at you blankly. To ease the tension and awkwardness, you decided to speak up whatever was on your mind for now.

“O-Oh! Sorry, I know I should’ve stayed put, but like I said, I know how to keep myself occupied. I decided to go for a little walk around, and that’s when I saw this little peach tree growing near the little creak you brought me to the other day. I just so remembered this one peach dessert I used to make when I was a kid, and I thought we could use some desserts—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Jungkook wrapped his arms around you tightly, making you drop the box of fruits towards the ground. You were stunned by his sudden actions as he said nothing, and you could hear him sobbing for once as he buried his neck into the crook of your neck.

Jungkook knew that things were starting to get into his head, and he needed to tell you the truth now, especially with the events that have happened within the past 24 hours, and how he needed to tell you about his recent findings.

And also about the nightmare he had last night.

There was no point in hiding anymore. Eventually, you would have to know anyways.

Y/N’s POV

“You look like a stray rabbit, Mr Jeon,” you teased half-jokingly, but the other half was also concerned about his appearance. It was how he sat across from you, slumped onto his couch, and looked defeated. It was obvious that something had been bothering him, especially when you knew he had a nightmare last night, but you weren’t going to say anything unless he would tell you all about it himself.

But given the current situation, the way he looked for you so frantically, and hell, even aimed a gun at you (not on purpose, of course), something has gone wrong, and you needed to know.

You gently stood up and walked over to sit cross-legged on the ground, gently placing one of your hands onto his that was resting on his thigh, slowly caressing them to help ease the frown on his face.

“Jungkook, talk to me about it. I promise your secrets are safe with me,” you gently reassured him, hoping he would finally speak out about whatever had been hindering his mind since the day before.

With that, he slowly opened his eyes to look down at you; he could tell that you were desperate to get answers, and this time, you wouldn’t take a single loophole in your books. Slowly, he sat back up and leaned forward as he stared at you, giving you his full attention.

“There have been some major updates in the missing person cases, Y/N.”

“Okay, so we’ll go from there—”

“But before that, I think you need to know about my past, especially why I said your brother has given me another chance in life and why I took on this offer in the first place.”

You gulped upon hearing that. It was finally time for you to know precisely what the pact they made behind your back was, and you could finally learn more about Jungkook and your brother's secret life.

“Remember when you walked into my cabin on the first day? You went straight ahead to the fireplace and had a little good look at the picture frame situated above it?”

“Y-Yeah? Was that your childhood friend or something?”

“That was…” He paused for a moment before finishing up his sentence. “My little sister.”

Now, that was something new to you. Nobody has ever heard that the biker gang leader would have a younger sibling or sibling. Most people have assumed that he had only been an only child and was probably abandoned from a young age due to his upbringing and reputation in the district.

But Jungkook was here to tell you the truth and to turn those assumptions down. “Regardless of how the public sees who I am, I had a pretty happy childhood. We were a family of four; our days were filled with happiness as we resided in a small village out of town. It wasn’t until my father received a promotion at his job that he decided to bring all of us up to Seoul, hoping for a better life.”

Jungkook cleared his throat before he continued with his story. “It was a miracle when my father came home one day telling us he was offered a job at the local police station; neither of us could’ve believed it then. It started off simple: he was just an ordinary security guard at the huge facility until he showed his superiors that he was far more capable than that, and he eventually rose to the ranks of becoming an actual detective.”

“In other words, your father was my brother’s senior then,” you added, making Jungkook return to you with a smile.

“Precisely. Years passed, and my sister followed his footsteps, eventually joining the academy and becoming a rookie detective under my father’s supervision. Meanwhile, I’ve decided to stay back and help my mother at her local pastry shop down the road from the station since she needed some assistance anyway. At the same time, I started building this wooden cabin, with the thought of creating a little place where we family could escape to during our free time.”

You scooched closer, and your hands around his tightened slightly, trying to find the right words to ask the main question. “W-What happened then?”

His eyes immediately fell to the floor, and his tone suddenly went down an octave, indicating that whatever he would say next would be pretty heavy to register. “My father was sent abroad on a mission, but he unfortunately lost his life in the line. Upon hearing that, my mother died with a broken heart.”

“Jungkook, my deepest condolences…” you mumbled.

“You want to know what’s even crazier, Y/N? That wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever had to go through. It was my sister.”

You could see that his eyes began to water, and he was trying his best to hold back any outburst of emotions that he might have. Naturally, his hands found yours and held them tight, and you return the favour by placing another hand of yours on top of his.

“There’s only a sole purpose for me in joining the biker gang: to keep my family safe.”

“In what way, Jungkook?” You questioned, not really linking on how a biker member could help the detectives when both occupations are the total opposite.

“I’m pretty sure you know by now about how dark and corrupted the crimes in Seoul are behind the scenes, and there are certain places that are off-limits no matter how far up the ranks you are.”

“So that’s when you come in then.”

“Exactly. Even if it’s the smallest thing I can do for them, I would take it.”

“Huh. Very contradicting to your biker image that the public is aware of.”

“Hey, I need to look good for everyone okay. You never know. I’m pretty sure I have a fanbase somewhere in town admiring my good looks,” he smugged while lifting his head up high. You were glad he could still joke around and was still the Jungkook you had known despite all the recent hardships.

“God, I hope your fanbase will have enough to fund themselves. Supporting someone when they do not get anything in return is sad.”

Jungkook was annoyed at your teasing and immediately pinched your cheeks and pulled them slightly. “You take that back, I will have you know that I am one of the most good-looking people the district has ever seen in years.”

“I will have you know that you are wrong because my brother Seokjin is a hundred times better than you!” You spat back while holding his hand, almost breaking your cheeks apart.

The pinching then slowly died down as Jungkook slowly regained his composure. “Speaking about Seokjin, that’s where the next story comes in.”

As Jungkook slowly pulled his hand away, you cupped that side of your cheek with your hands, mentally cursing the guy and saying that you would surely get back to him once this whole storytelling session was over.

“I’m sure you are aware of the infamous case that one of the detectives from the station was the mastermind behind a series of kidnapping cases that happened in our district five years ago?”

Oh, that.

It was one of the cases that truly shook the nation down to its core; who would’ve thought that one of the detectives, especially from the elite squad, would have been monitoring and kidnapping young children around the area? What was more unpleasant about the case was that he had a few subordinates to help fulfill his fantasies, and they so happened to be a handful of the detectives themselves as well; some even used to be close buddies with your brother.

It truly was a traumatising event that happened in your district’s history, and nobody wished such a case would ever happen again.

“Y-Yeah…it was something my brother wished he could erase from his memory for good. It has impacted him in the worst way possible. Frankly, I wouldn’t want to see him go through such times ever again,” you commented.

“Well, Y/N. I feel the same way, too. Just like how badly it has played a part in your brother’s life, it also did for me.”

“How exactly did you even drag yourself into the situation?”

He sighed. “Not by my own will, Y/N. It was because of my sister,” he squeezed your hands, and he chose his words carefully next, perhaps needing a bit of your strength to finally touch on the topic he has been avoiding for the longest time.

“My sister was part of the cold case squad at the time, and it just so happened that she was the only female detective in the team. She would work tirelessly day and night, trying her best to dig through each possible available data, even the ones that were off-limits to most detectives. Little did she know that the mastermind himself was closely monitoring every movement that she had made, and she became a victim herself.”

“Jungkook…” you slowly caressed his hand, wanting to take him into your embrace right now.

“Fast forward to the day when she finally emerged from the shadows, Seokjin and I found ourselves in a standoff against the mastermind, holding my sister hostage on the rooftops of the police station. And god, Y/N. No words could describe how I felt the moment I laid my eyes upon my sister then, of how dishevelled and disoriented she had become.”

A single tear drop fell from the corners of his eyes unto your hands, and your heart broke at that sight. Jungkook had always portrayed how tough he was as if nothing in this world could ruin him to the point of breaking down, at least not in front of someone. He must’ve carried on this trauma for a long time, one that would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Your brother did not have the guts to shoot at his supervisor, so I did the favour for him instead. The bullet penetrated through his skull, and it was an instant death for him. My sister then lay on the ground, screaming at the top of her lungs, pushing and kicking everyone that came close to her. Not even I could do anything to help save her then,” he sobbed and choked on his own words.

“So, my brother came to your rescue then?” You quietly asked.

He sniffled. “He did. Killing a police officer is a huge crime, and naturally, I was placed behind bars. But your brother fought relentlessly, and I was pardoned and eventually released from prison.”

“That’s my brother for you.” You smiled, thankful he was still the same brother you had grown to love and admire despite the recent events between you two.

“But it came with a price, Y/N.”

“And what was it?”

“In return for getting me out of prison, Seokjin would take my sister’s wellbeing into his own hands. So he placed her under a facility that would care and possibly help her recover, but I was not to know about the location and to ever meet with her ever again.”

Your heart sank upon hearing that. It would kill you to know that you have to be separated from your sibling for good, and you don’t think you could ever live the same way as you’ve done before knowing that.

Immediately, you jumped into Jungkook’s arms, giving him a tight embrace while tears streamed down your face.

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I’m so sorry that we detectives have failed you. We should’ve been the ones protecting the civilians, not breaking them apart physically and mentally.” You sunk your cheek into his neck; you wished there was something that you could’ve done to ease his pain or even bring his only happiness back to him.

Jungkook said nothing but return the embrace to you. He did the same by resting his chin upon your shoulders, slowly moving to the point you felt his lips slightly brushed against your neck as he took in all of your scent.

Neither of you said anything for at least a good ten minutes, and you both were fine staying that way. You knew that it had taken a massive leap of faith for Jungkook to address his biggest and darkest nightmare finally, and you were grateful that he had decided to trust you enough to talk to you about all of this.

Eventually, you found yourselves both snuggled on the couch, just admiring the fireplace while cuddling one another. Jungkook lay gently on your chest while you constantly ran your fingers through his soft black hair, making him slowly drift off into dreamland. It was obvious that Jungkook hadn’t had the best of sleep lately because he easily slept within your arms for a couple of hours, not to be awakened so easily.

And that was fine by you. You have begun to feel that you both were more than just acquaintances. However, you weren’t sure if Jungkook returned the same feelings for you, but your subconsciousness tells you that whatever happened back at the creek, he must’ve felt something, too. It doesn’t matter if it was the same way as you did; you were more than glad that you had found a place within him.

As you slowly admired his sleeping face, you were now more than determined to put an end to this nightmare the district had been struggling with for months.

This time, let me return the favour, Jungkook.

The strong wind was constantly hitting your face as you grabbed Jungkook tightly while he sped on his bike. It had been a few days since, and you finally had Jungkook to fill you in with the latest news he had when he finally regained himself.

To say that you were beyond shock was an understatement when you found out that the mastermind was targeting the young ladies at the factory you worked at, and that was how Kisa disappeared and became a pawn in their twisted games.

But that also meant one thing: you’re the next target, and they have had their eyes on you for a while now.

You were terrified, that was for sure, but you decided that you wouldn’t tell them to do as they please anymore. As long as you both stick together, you know that you will crack the case open and put a stop to this spree of kidnappings.

It’s all for the victims and Seokjin.

Even for you, Jeon Jungkook.

As you finally made your way towards the factory, you quickly armed yourselves before stepping into the facility, all while Jungkook held you close next to him.

It was eerily quiet, and no sign of a human being was in sight. It was unusual how abnormal the whole situation felt; it was as if the entire building had been abandoned.

Or was it?

In the distance, you quietly alerted Jungkook of how a faint light had caught your attention, and you could tell it had led to the systems room. Someone was in there, and you have a good guess that they might have been using the building to communicate for a while now.

Giving each other a nod, you both slowly crept towards the room; that was when you felt a metal object pressed onto your skull. You finally came to a halt while Jungkook slowly disappeared down the hallway, not noticing that you had left his side.

“Now that’s a good little kitten, don’t you think? You have saved me the trouble of looking for you, Kim Y/N.”

God, he knew your name.

You chuckled. “What do you want from us? What do you possibly gain from kidnapping these young ladies?”

“Oh sweetheart, don’t you know that money is everything in this day and age? Given how we have lived in poverty for so long, it wouldn’t hurt to earn that extra cash and big bucks, no matter how dangerous the situation can be, don’t you think?”

“You have no sense of morals, then. Treating these young ladies as objects and pawns to your games,” you fired back.

The man then slowly pushed the metal object that was situated on your skull further deeper as he slowly loaded it, to which you knew that you were now held at gunpoint.

“Now sweetheart, let me tell you a little something about us. We are predators, and we hunt for prey like you.”

Now, this seems awfully familiar.

“I’m afraid that once predators have gotten our eyes on a target, we will not let them go that easily. We are slowly going to devour you up, leaving no traces behind. If you think you could stop us, then I’m afraid you’re wrong, princess. We’re experts in our field of work; we are not to be found that easily even if you were the best of the best detectives in town because that is our nature.”

That phrase, it’s similar to Jungkook’s—

“Never in a million years would I have known that you’ve stooped so low, Seunghak.”

That voice!

Immediately, the both of you noticed how a badly beaten up individual was thrown in front of you, and your eyes widened upon what you have seen. Slowly, an individual emerged from the shadows, and it was Jungkook, walking towards you both while aiming the gun at the person behind you.

“Why, hello, dear boss. Or should I say, former boss,” he taunted, smacking his lips as if things had just gotten far more interesting now.

“Damn, Seunghak. I didn’t know you were the type to switch lanes that quickly. It seems like the biker life wasn’t good enough for you, then,” Jungkook smiled dauntingly, and you gulped upon that sight. He was back to being the biker gang leader that the entire district was afraid of; you could even tell how the man behind you flinched a little as he began to shiver slightly with the gun still placed on your skull.

“Can you blame me, though? When you get a plate full of gold in front of you, I’ll do whatever it takes if that means I will have more than enough to spend the rest of my life at ease,” he fired back while beginning to laugh menacingly.

“Besides, what do we do with these ladies in captivity? Oh god, I have been having the best of my life rather than being stuck in the biker's den.”

Instantly, Jungkook's face darkened upon hearing what Seunghak said, and you could feel as if he was shooting daggers through his eyes at his former comrade.

“You are absolutely sick in the head.”

“And what if I am? I am living the best life possible, and there’s nothing you can do to convince me to return!” He screamed before pushing the gun to the point that you felt that the metal was going to pierce through your skull any moment now.

Slowly, Jungkook started taking a few steps closer while he elicited a low chuckle. “You think you have a place left in my biker gang? You are much better off dead rather than coming back, Seunghak.”

Immediately, a loud clatter was heard coming from both sides, accompanied by a volume of grunts, before the male began panicking.

“W-What’s going on?”

Finally, Jungkook stopped right merely inched away from you both, and he aimed the gun towards his former comrade’s face.

“If you think I’ve come unprepared, then that means you are a hundred years too early even to accept the dirty ass pot of gold that was placed so easily in front of your plate.”

Instantly, Jungkook pulled the trigger, and the bullet penetrated the man’s abdomen, causing him to let out an ear-splitting scream as he tumbled and fell onto the ground, pressing onto his wound to ease the bleeding.

Unfortunately, Jungkook wasn’t going to let him off so quickly, as he fired another bullet into his arms, causing the male to lay down helplessly. At the same time, Jungkook hovered above him, resting his gun upon Seunghak’s cheeks.

“You’re going to be a dear and tell me who exactly employed you and your boys before I shoot another bullet into your skull, which would kill you off instantly, young man.”

It seemed that the male wouldn’t give up easily as he spat back onto Jungkook’s face.

“As if I would tell you easily who is the mastermind behind all of this…no matter what happens to us…not of us are going to tell a single soul about it…our lips are sealed shut—”

A loud bang was heard throughout the entire facility, and you slowly opened your eyes to see that the male was long gone now, having a bullet penetrated his skull.

Jungkook slowly got up from the male, dusting his knees while he was at it.

“You scumbags have no reason to live in this world then.”

As he turned to face you again, you couldn’t help but slowly take a few steps back, as if you weren’t sure if you would want to deal with the current state Jungkook was in. Sure, you trusted him, but it was truly the first time you had seen him like this.

Far worse than how he confronted you back at his base.

This was the true so-called “devil” that people were terrified of, and this was what Jungkook was truly capable of.

Jungkook didn’t say a word as he walked towards you before muttering a few words.

“Let’s get going and continue to search the place for clues.”

“O-Okay…” you replied.

As you both made your way down past the hallways, Jungkook occasionally stopped giving his subordinates further orders or even asking about the current situation throughout the facility. He had given them instructions way beforehand, and the whole place was now under the bikers' control.

Since you knew it probably wouldn’t be a good time to disturb nor provoke Jungkook in his current state, you figured it would’ve been a good time to check out the control room situated just a little bit towards your right.

You slowly turned your head to see that Jungkook was engaged in the conversation before you slowly crept away and headed straight towards the room while leaving the door open so that that was an indirect way of letting him know that you were here and doing fine on your own.

You quickly took in the sight upon you as you took in the dozens of computer screens that hovered above you and how multiple files and USB drives were plugged into the systems, meaning that whoever was here before had been lurking in this place for a while.

Since your brother was an expert hacker, you naturally followed his footsteps as you got him to teach you all about computers when you were young. In other words, you could consider yourself a little computer geek, and you knew your way around the codes and the systems.

As you sat down on the chair and began typing away, you could easily hack into the system to find out the dozens of confidential information stored there. Sure enough, you were able to dig through the files and find valuable information about the kidnappings—who the victims were, their way of communication to pass around information, and who was the sole mastermind that commanded Seunghak and his team.

However, it seemed that it wouldn’t be as easy to determine who exactly was the accurate mastermind as they used an untraceable ID and alias; or rather, they actually communicated through ciphertexts.

You mentally cursed at yourself for not taking an interest in this particular method of communication back then when your brother taught you briefly. You have always brushed it off, saying you were not made to understand this specific method and always preferred a more accessible way out.

You were then back to square one again. To find out who was behind that so-called alias and ID, you needed to crack the algorithm and ciphertext to move on.

Just as all hope is lost, a new message suddenly appears on the screen, and you squint your eyes as you try to read what exactly it holds. When you finally understood what was written, your eyes widened, leaving you stunned for a minute.

This…this is—

“Y/N!!! GET OUT OF THERE!!!”

Before you were able to make sense of the whole situation, Jungkook immediately jumped in front of you before you eventually heard a gunshot resonate in the air and eventually a siren followed as you tried your best to catch hold of Jungkook in your arms, followed by a swarm of bikers filling the control room.

Jungkook had no idea how long he had been passed out since then, and he was slowly trying his best to open up his eyelids tightly glued shut together as the light shone through his vision.

When he finally did, he realised that he was back in this cabin and was lying down on the couch he tried his best to sit up before he felt an excruciating pain that sent shockwaves throughout his whole body.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you.”

Jungkook jerked his head to the side to see that you had returned with a first aid box and a bowl of water with a cloth draped before you slowly sat on the couch with him. You took the fabric into your hands before dipping it into the bowl of water, squeezing off the excess liquid before you started wiping off any dirt or blood that was left on his bare chest.

Neither of you said a word, or rather, none of you knew the right words to say at the moment. Jungkook noticed how red and puffy your eyes were, and he knew immediately that you must’ve been crying for god knows how long.

He definitely felt partly guilty for that, but another part of him didn’t know why he did just that, jumping in front of you to save you from the henchmen instead of taking him out with his gun from behind.

His thoughts were a mess; he no longer knew what he felt. As he quietly observed the way you took care of him, his heart began to ache, and he couldn’t help but gently place one of his hands on your cheeks, rubbing the little area where he saw that there was a slit mark; you probably have gotten injured yourself while he was out.

That gesture stopped you as you lifted your head to look at him straight in the eyes. Unlike back at the factory, his eyes were filled with mystery again, not the dark, scary one he portrayed as the biker’s gang leader. It felt as if the scene back during the creak was repeating itself.

“J-Jungkook…I…” you stammered before you eventually felt his soft lips against yours.

The kiss was gentle and bittersweet, and Jungkook did not hesitate to slowly move his lips against yours, showering you with plenty of kisses and savouring the taste of your lips. Your body immediately shut down from that, and you finally eased yourself to return the favour, moving yours against his as you both kissed each other breathlessly.

His kiss sent shockwaves to your entire body, making you want this moment to last for as long as possible. He gently lifted your face slightly with the hand resting on your cheek, intending to kiss you deeper. That was when you decided to close your eyes and let him take full control of the situation.

As you both finally broke apart to take a few deep breaths, Jungkook rested his forehead against yours, just like he did before at the creak.

It was time, you figured, to finally ask him what you both truly are.

“Jungkook…what…what made you finally do it?” You panted.

He paused briefly before giving you an answer you did not expect. “Do I have you say more than that? I’m pretty sure it’s what you have in mind, Y/N.”

You were now trying your best to hold back the tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “W-What made you finally feel that way, Jungkook?”

“I…I don’t even know myself, Y/N. In the beginning, I’ve only seen you as a younger sibling that I would protect at all costs because I do not want to repeat the same mistake as I have done to my biological sister. But as we spent more time together, there was just something that I felt within me that made me realise that maybe you’re more than just a sibling to me n5ow.”

Jungkook gently lifted your head once more before giving you a little peck on the lips again. “One thing is for sure now: I would protect you at all costs, even if it means I must sacrifice myself. I’m not doing this as a favour to your brother anymore; I’m doing this because you mean a lot to me.”

With those words, you couldn’t help but smile for the first time in a while before responding to the man himself. “Well, you’re going to have to do a lot of explaining to my brother, then.”

“Yeah. Frankly, I hate the thought of having to go through that phase. But if it’s you, I’d do anything to get that approval from Mr Kim himself.” He winked.

“Ew. Gross.”

“Admit it, you like the thought of us being together and a thing in the near future.”

“You better hold your horses before I shove this fabric down your throat.”

“Wow, aren’t you a scary one?”

You both broke into laughter with that conversation. It has been a while since you both have bickered like that, and you missed this mischievous side of him.

“Well, mister. We’ll have to wait a couple of days for you to be completed healed before we hit the road again.” You announced as you finally stood up from the couch.

“Give me a day to rest up, and then we’ll leave.”

“Jeon Jungkook, there’s no way you’re healing up within a day with that bullet wound in your abdomen.”

“If I say one day, it means one day,” he deadpanned.

“You can’t be serious,” you argued back.

“One day.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

You sighed. “We will determine that after 24 hours, then.”

Jungkook smiled as he laid back down on the couch. “Well, now that’s settled, we could go through the strategy planning tomorrow. For now, I think it’s time for us to get into bed together—”

“You’re not touching me in my sleep.”

“Oh come on, we kissed, so what’s the matter?” He pouted.

“We’re not at that stage yet.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” He begged.

“Absolutely not.”

Miraculously, it took only a day for Jungkook to be entirely healed as he drove down the streets, heading back to the capital. You swore that this man was built differently from all of you, and he was a monster at that, able to heal so quickly with a wound that would typically take at least a week or two.

He was definitely feeling a lot better after a good night's rest, and you guided him into the fireplace before telling him the details you had found back in the systems room. Jungkook’s eyes widened as he heard about your findings, and never would he have thought that you both would be able to receive that critical information to finally pinpoint who was the exact mastermind behind all of this.

After hearing your thoughts and suggestions, the both of you quickly took off to one of his nearest hideouts, where he would often meet up with his closer subordinates to inform them about the current plan. After a whole night of planning, all of you were now on the road heading back into the city.

When you finally catch a glimpse of the police station from afar, bittersweet feelings immediately form within you as you know that there would be the last destination to be able to crack the cold case open. You hope that Seokjin is somewhere hidden within the facility since you last saw him.

As all the bikes began pulling up nearby, Jungkook gave the lads further instructions on infiltrating the building without being detected by the guards. Their mission was to find out where exactly the victims were kept away and to avoid conflict with any detectives that came their way.

Based on the information you found at the factory, you insisted that it would be best to confront the mastermind since you have gotten a pretty good hunch on who they are and where they might be residing too. But Jungkook insisted that he was going to stay close to you as much as he could, and he was not going to risk your life once more.

It took a bit of convincing back and forth, but you finally managed to persuade him to stay nearby but undetected, fearing that the mastermind might flee if they had a sense that you did not come alone to meet them.

So here you were, pressing the exact button that would eventually lead you to the top floor of the building, staring straight into the screen above the lift that indicated that you were slowly going up each second. Your hands began shaking against your own will, fearing that you were finally going to meet your worst nightmare, one that has kept you awake and separated from your own family and friends for weeks.

As you shut your eyes to take a deep breath, you were instantly cut off from your train of thoughts when you felt someone grab onto your hands and intertwine their fingers with yours. When you opened your eyes and turned your head to the side, you could see that Jungkook was just as nervous as you were, linking his hands with yours.

It must’ve been hard for Jungkook as well; he was also dealing with his struggles when he was with you. But he has never failed to let it get to them to the point that it made him lose all hope and sanity. Perhaps it must have been fate that you were there with him, and you were able to give him a bit of strength and company to deal with all of this.

Your grip tightened against his, and you looked into his eyes. “Jungkook…”

“It’ll be over soon, Y/N. I’m sure of it. No civilians should ever experience this nightmare ever again. We’re going to break the chain of history and not let it repeat itself once again,” Jungkook said confidently, and he was determined that it was time to make a change in Seoul’s dark history of crimes and corruption.

As the doors to the lift opened, you slowly stepped out of the lift and let go of Jungkook’s grip and looked at him once more before walking to where you were supposed to be headed. For the last time, you both communicated by looking into each other’s eyes; Jungkook promised you that he would be nearby and that you didn’t have to worry as he would keep you safe.

With a nod from you, the doors to the lift eventually began to close, and you constantly kept your eyes glued on Jungkook before the doors were glued shut.

Turning your heel towards the opposite direction, you slowly walked along the corridors, passing by multiple rooms before reaching the one at the furthest end. You read the door sign carefully before confirming that you were at the right place.

Slowly, you lifted up your hands to gently knock on the door before it slowly opened on its own. With a gulp, you stepped in and peered your head through the room. It was dark, and the only light shining into the room was the moonlight from the windows.

When you were fully physically in the room, the doors behind you suddenly slammed shut again, sending a sense of nervousness throughout your entire body. You had to remind yourself constantly that as long as you can get through this last spurt, everything will finally be revealed, and it will be a chapter closed.

You could sense that you weren’t alone in this room and that someone was lurking in the shadows. Taking this as your chance to confront them, you finally gathered the courage to speak up to whoever was in here with you.

“It seems that your time of reign has abruptly ended. It wasn’t easy trying to track you down for months; given your position, it must’ve been really easy to get hold of the young ladies into your care. You surely are a brave individual who was willing to take the risk,” you announced aloud but were again met with silence.

But you didn’t come here to give up quickly, so you decided to press on. “Say, haven’t you stooped down so low, using your detective position to claim these young women for your benefit? Wasn’t your wife good enough for you? Why resort to kidnapping and eventually trafficking these young ladies for your good?”

Come on, Y/N. Just a little bit more.

“You even went to seek help from the biker gang. Are you that desperate? Especially when you have sworn that you hate them to the core and would never associate with the likes of them.”

“Don’t you think so, Uncle Kim?”

With that last sentence, the room felt much more silent than it already was before you eventually heard footsteps coming before you, finally revealing to the man that you have been trying your best to get him out of the shadows.

“I’m beyond impressed, Y/N. You are just as smart as your brother; you could easily pull off as a detective for the station.”

It has been a while since you have seen your uncle. He was the deputy chief of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Department and was often away to deal with heavy and pressing matters requiring him to stay stuck in this office all day or even fly out of the country to do so.

He also took your brother in and gave him a chance as a detective after seeing his extraordinary talent with computers and hacking. After your parents passed, he was the one who has been raising you both just as his children, and he was finally able to let loose a bit once you both entered adulthood.

He often visits during celebrations as much as he can despite his busy schedule, and you both have always admired him for what he has done to serve the country. He was considered the nation’s hero, after all.

But it seems that not all good things last for long, especially when you receive that concrete evidence and message back in the systems room from your very own brother, revealing who the mastermind is.

Why exactly did he choose to do all of this? Your very own uncle, the nation’s hero, to be behind all of the kidnappings that have happened for the past several months. It would be impossible to convince the public that this was the reality that everyone has been living in; that is why it is up to you now to publicly reveal and gain concrete evidence to stop his spree of crimes.

“My dear little Y/N, how exactly did you even crack the code? I was certain that you couldn’t decrypt ciphertexts.”

So, that was why he used it as a primary method of communicating with the bikers.

“Well, I’m afraid you have made a fatal mistake. I may not be able to read ciphertexts, but I sure can read morse code.”

“What?”

You chuckled. “You may have kept my brother hidden away somewhere, but so long as he is within the facility and was one of the top hackers in the station, he would certainly find a way to hack through the systems throughout the district and even out of town, keeping in a close contact with us.”

“Just as expected from my niece, I shouldn’t have underestimated what you both were capable of,” he laughed.

Unbeknownst to you, you eventually balled your fists up, and you were on the verge of wanting to throw a punch straight into his face despite being family by blood. However, you tried your best to hold yourself back, you have to get concrete evidence first and foremost.

“Why, Uncle Kim? Why would a successful detective like you do such a thing? Why live a double life?” You asked and pleaded a little to see if he had any sense of remorse left in him.

But your efforts were wasted.

“Oh, Y/N. You have no idea how cruel our world can truly be. It doesn’t matter how high your status can be; the city of Seoul will forever remain dark and corrupt behind the scenes, whether you like it or not. In this world that we will live in, it’s like a tug-of-war, Y/N. If you don’t take a step further, then the younger and weaklings will eventually catch up, and we don’t want that to happen, do we?”

Your uncle then stepped closer to you and began slowly circling around you.

“There are only two groups of people in the world; either you choose to be strong or stay behind with the weak. It’s a cruel world that we live in, Y/N. When the opportunity comes, take it even if there’s the slightest opening to becoming the strong elite. Take it and do not spare a glance back, even if it means you must ditch your old life behind. You might even need to sacrifice some things or people to realise those goals.”

“B-But that doesn’t imply why you would turn to crime to achieve those goals, Uncle Kim,” you commented.

He sighed. “I’m afraid you are still too young to realise it then. Those girls should be lucky that they are still alive. I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

Your blood was now boiling, and you were on the verge of genuinely slapping or hitting some sense into your uncle, even though you knew that it would probably be effortless. You just needed to hurt him, make him suffer for all that he has done to all of those young women, even to your friend, Kisa.

Before you finally shut your eyes, you had to ask him one last question before you were going to reach behind your back pocket for the knife that you had stored away.

“Let me then ask you this, Uncle Kim. What happened five years ago when a detective was responsible for kidnapping young children across the district. Was that your doing as well?”

In your gut, you already knew what the actual answer would be. But at least you still needed to hear it directly from his mouth.

“Ah, Minhwan? It was truly a tragedy that he lost his life easily then. He was just a step closer to kidnapping his tenth victim.”

God, you felt sick to the stomach. He truly was a heartless individual; all of the years of putting up a favourable face in front of his family eventually broke down, revealing who he truly is in front of you now.

You couldn’t care less if he was your uncle anymore; all you knew was that he was going to hell, and you so desperately wanted to end his life here and then—

“So it was you who made my sister suffer the way she did.”

That voice! Jungkook!

You quickly jerked your head behind to see that Jungkook was now aiming his gun directly at your uncle, but before you could even process further, you were immediately pulled into your uncle’s embrace. He immediately took out his gun from his holster and rested it on your temple.

“My, if it isn’t the biker gang leader himself! You surely have grown since the last time I’ve seen you.”

“Never in a million years would I have thought that the chief detective would have been monitoring and guiding the underworld for several years. It would surely be a huge hit in the newspapers and eventually across the globe,” Jungkook taunted.

“That would be nice, but I’m afraid you both won’t live through the next sunrise to see it happen because I will be eliminating you both right here and now, starting with Y/N,” he pushed the gun further to the point that it began to hurt. You could tell that one wrong move from either of you would result in a bullet within the two of you.

You both have to think quickly and strategically before executing the next move.

“What makes you think you can outsmart me, young man? You’re from the biker gang, for goodness sake!” Your uncle began raising his voice and was now engaged in the conversation with Jungkook.

That was when you looked into Jungkook’s eyes, and you could tell he was trying to tell you something.

It was as if he meant…

Trust me, Y/N.

“It is because I’m the biker gang’s leader, Mr Chief. Hence, I can and will outsmart you here right now.”

With that one last word, Jungkook loaded his gun and pulled the trigger, aiming straight at your legs. The bullet barely grazed through your skin, and you immediately fell onto your knees, which made your uncle stunned.

“Hey! Hey! Y/N! Get up! Get up now!”

In the midst of his panic, Jungkook quickly stepped in and took his hand onto his back before propelling his body forward, slamming him onto the ground. He quickly used his knee to keep him in place. He used his hands to push the chief’s head to the ground while the other held both hands towards his back.

“Y-You think you’re going to get away with this? You’re a hundred years too fast…” the chief grunted.

“Actually, I think you might as well start digging your grave now, dear uncle.”

Immediately, all of you looked towards the front door entrance where the voice was coming from, and your eyes widened upon who you had just seen.

“Seokjin!!!” You screamed out loud; tears might even start falling from the corners of your eyes.

“Hello, uncle. Missed me?”

“H-How did you get out from there? There’s absolutely no way—”

“Well, I have my ways. And unfortunately for you, I hacked into the station system, so your computer right there on your desk was recording everything that you said towards both my sibling and the biker gang’s leader; I may have also shared the recording with the local radio stations, so everyone heard it live and in real timing too,” Seokjin announced as he was twirling the USB drive in his hands.

“Why you little scumbag!!” He screamed before Jungkook gathered his strength to push him down again.

“I think the scumbag here is you, dear uncle. I’m sure the FBI would be delighted to interrogate the heck out of you and give you the rightful punishment you need.”

“What? The FBI?” He questioned.

“You actually think I came here unprepared? The FBI has officially raided the entire building, taking the hostages to safety and caught your little gremlins, escorting them to prison at this very moment as we speak.”

Seokjin took a few steps closer before eventually bending down to face his uncle.

“I’m sorry, but your reign of terror ends here and now.”

It had been a year since that fateful incident. Getting things back to normal surely took a lot of time and effort.

Thanks to Seokjin and the FBI, they have taken your uncle away and placed him behind bars, even at a high security one at that. Throughout the gruelling interrogation that they have had, it seems that your uncle was part of more twisted crimes than what the public was aware of, and he was sentenced to life imprisonment at that, with no chance of parole.

As for the victims, they were all returned safely to their own families after recovering at the hospital for a while. Thanks to the staff's generosity, the victims were given more than enough care and treatment for them to eventually return to their usual selves.

The Seoul Metropolitan Police Department needed some time to regain the public's trust. To tackle that issue, the officials elected your brother Jacob to take over the chief position and oversee the whole process of rebuilding the entire police department. It definitely wasn’t an easy task and was undoubtedly a huge burden for Seokjin, but he did not complain and rather took on the role easily.

The factory that you used to work in was abolished as the police themselves continued to dig through more uncovered dark secrets that lay below the factory grounds. For the safety and well-being of the public, all authorities have agreed that it would be best to tear the place down, leaving behind a chapter.

But that did not mean that all workers there met a bad fate. Through the help from the public and the authorities, everyone was given a chance to work at a much better and safer workplace.

As weeks passed, you scored through all your exams and eventually graduated from university. You were now on the road to becoming a full-fledged journalist, currently undergoing probation under the famous company The Seoul Daily Magazine. You have been enjoying your time here, meeting amazing colleagues and having a healthier work-life balance.

As for Jungkook, he decided to return to his biker gang, further leading the upcoming lads to take over the higher positions within their hierarchy. However, it was thanks to the latest kidnapping cases that the public realised that the bikers themselves weren’t rebellious nor posed a threat to society. They have begun to put their trust in the bikers themselves, and they would often be seen hanging out together in town daily.

Seokjin has granted a special position for Jungkook in the police department, encouraging the male to join forces as their previous one worked out splendidly. According to your brother, Jungkook just smiled and turned down the offer, saying that the bikers are one big family and would stick by them until the end.

You smiled as you remembered all of those moments of how Jungkook had always shared about his lads from the gang, and naturally, you decided to visit them often whenever you got to hop onto Jungkook’s bike; you both were finally a couple now anyway.

It wasn’t until the digital clock that was situated right on your table started to go off that you realised that it was finally time for you to get off work. You quickly jumped up from your chair, giving yourself a little stretch before packing your things away hurriedly.

“Oh, someone’s leaving early today, huh?” One of your co-workers peeked through your cubicle and teased.

“Someone’s got a dinner date tonight, a very romantic one at that, too,” another one chimed in.

“It’s nothing, you guys, we’re just having a normal dinner,” you reassured, but clearly your co-workers didn’t believe you in the slightest bit.

“I bet they’re going to finally do it tonight.”

“What?! How can you say that?! I bet they’re going to propose instead.”

“Nothing is going to happen, okay? Now, I’m off. I’ll see you next Monday!”

You quickly clocked out before running down the steps down to the lobby. You were too excited and couldn’t wait for the elevator to reach your floor. Once you finally saw your boyfriend leaning against one of the pillars outside your company, you quickly dashed towards the automatic doors before finally stopping right in front of him.

He was in his usual black leather jacket and cargo pants, but his hair was much longer now, so it covered his eyes if he decided not to part them. But you loved this new look on him, much better when his hair was shorter a year ago.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

“Hmph, don’t get too full of yourself. You barely did just the minimum,” you commented before linking your arms with his as you both walked towards the restaurant that Jungkook had booked for the night.

“Come on, I styled myself just for tonight. You might as well give me some compliments,” he whined.

“I’ll consider it if you order something that I have been craving to eat for a while,” you stuck your tongue out at him.

“How should I know what you’re craving for the day?”

“You’re the boyfriend; you should’ve done your research.”

“Mean.”

“I spit the facts.”

You both burst out into laughter after that; you truly enjoyed every moment with this guy, even if you were just bickering over the tiniest detail possible. It was when you both went silent for a while, admiring the Christmas lights and decorations that lit up the entire city. You both finally stopped at the huge Christmas tree in the middle of town, admiring its beauty for a while before heading to the restaurant just a little bit behind the decor.

“Say, didn’t you mention that I would be your biggest mistake when I first picked you up back at the factory?”

“Oh…that.”

“Yeah, that. What am I to you now, princess?” He looked at you with pleading eyes; he was back at trying to get your compliments since he failed the last one.

You sighed before tilting your head towards his direction before planting a soft peck on his lips.

“You were the best mistake that has ever happened to me.”

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tender-rosiey · 1 year ago

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First of all I love how kind you’ve been to non English speaking anon because as someone who had to learn English, it’s not easy!

Second of all I feel like we don’t see enough fics of jjk men rescuing us from danger! Like imagine gojo saving us from a curse and being like “you know there are better ways to get my attention?” IDUNNO I FELT THE NEED TO SHARE THIS ISDEA 😭

one more — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: it’s nothing <3 a lot of us, including myself, were in there place before so it should be the normal to be patient with them <3

you’re done for, completely and utterly done for.

you’re going to die today and it won’t be because of being stabbed by someone or something normal. no. you were going to get eat by, possibly, the most disgusting and slimy creature you’ve ever seen.

you don’t falter and still fight though, thrashing around in its hold, “let me go you two-toed slimy sewer looking rat!”

the curse seems to have taken great offense to your words cause it frowns then starts swinging you around. It would probably sue you if it could but it settles for preparing to eat you. you start screaming and letting your colorful vocabulary of curses at it.

your cursed technique long forgotten since lo and behold that curse was your natural enemy. so you have nothing to do except to curse it out till it starts crying or something.

just before you’re dropped in its mouth, a figure swiftly catches you and teleports you somewhere safe, a little far away from said curse. you look up and are met with a grinning gojo, “y’know…there are better ways to get my attention than this.”

he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “you don’t need to be in danger for me to notice you, sweets.”

you snap out of your daze, “I wasn’t trying to get your attention!” you huff as you try to get down but his hold on you doesn’t falter, “oh great, I am released from the shackles of a curse only to be trapped in yours.”

he pouts, pulling you closer and nuzzling your noses together, “aw come on now; I deserve a kiss for this, wifey.”

you shake your head and he sulks, turning to walk away from the scene. you look at the curse then up at him like he has grown two heads, “satoru, what’re you doing?”

“I am not fighting until you give me a kiss.”

you gasp and turn to look at the curse once again. it is contained and won’t harm anyone but you can’t just leave it like that so you look back at your crazy attention-loving husband, “you can’t be serious.”

“I am one hundred percent serious,” he announces but he stops, smirking at you, “so?”

he should be smacked for his smugness but that will be saved for later especially when he continues talking, “I was the brave and strong husband who just saved you, after all.”

so you take a hold of his collar and pull him down, smashing your lips against his. he kisses you back instantly and you guys keep at it a for a while until you smack his shoulder, remembering that there is a curse roaming around.

“that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he says after pulling back, grinning from ear to ear.

you pat his cheek softly and roll your eyes, “haha, very funny,” you point at the audacious curse, “now go deal with it!”

he puts you down then salutes, “yes ma’am!”

satoru then turns around to walk towards it but he suddenly stops in his track. you, who sat on the ground with your favorite drink that satoru got, groan, “what is it now?”

tilting his head so he can meet your eyes, he smiles, “what about one more kiss?”

you are about to reprimand him yet again but then he interrupts you, “on the cheek! so you don’t have to worry about it getting anywhere—at least not now!“

“I should put tape on your mouth so you shut up for a bit,” you stand up and walk towards him, “satoru, you make me think that I spoil you too much,” you hum, straightening his collar.

he puffs his chest with a pout, “is it bad that I want affection from my wife?”

you shake your head as you signal for him for him to bend down and he does so gladly, “no, but you need to get your priorities straight.”

he hums a thank you when you give him the anticipated kiss before he replies, “this is my priorities being straight.”

you roll your eyes with a chuckle, “then I have to explain to you how to prioritize correctly.”

he leans close, lips mere centimeters apart from your own, “a private lesson, huh? I don’t mind—“

you push him away with your index finger, “but later! you have a curse to deal with mister.”

reluctantly, he walks towards it, steps heavy. he looks back at you with a pout, trying to convince you once again, but you don’t falter. you’re already used to his antics and can resist them—to an extent.

giving up, satoru looks at the curse, “you ready to get beaten?”

the curses shakes its head quickly and satoru shrugs, “well, you will anyway,” the curse cries but satoru continues, “and in a heartbeat cause I have a pretty wife to get back to.”

the curses attempts to run away but satoru quickly blasts it and it’s nowhere to be found anymore.

a smile is plastered on his face and there is a spring in his step as he walks—or rather runs back to you, “date time, y/n!”

you don’t know why, but you run away, “but I wanna sleep!”

perhaps instinct.

there is no time to think about it, though, since satoru gasps offended before quickly responding, “we can just cuddle then,” he teleports right in front do you and you bump into his chest.

you grumble and he laughs while holding you up, “so what do you say? some cuddling will be pretty nice.”

“yeah, whatever,” you mumble as your arms wrap around him and you nuzzle into his chest. he presses a loud smooch to your head, ready for at least an hour of cuddling.

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#gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jjk gojo x you #jjk gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru imagine #jjk x y/n

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cranberryjuice-posts · 7 months ago

Note

Okay this fic idea has been in my head for weeks...

Imagine reader being Percy's (full) sister and secretly dating Clarisse. And Percy's rambling about not liking "hating" Clarisse and reader is just doing whatever and doing that thing where someone's pretending to be interested just hums and agrees absentmindedly and then he just says "Fuck Clarisse" and reader is like "GIRL I'M TRYING, BUT SHE'S BUSY" (this is not an actual smut request for her tho), but reader accidentally said it out loud (ik it's cliche to 'accidentally say stuff out loud but I like it in this context). And Percy is like "Excuse me what da fok" and then he storms off to yell at Clarisse and reader hears him yell "REALLY?! MY SISTER?!" and everyone who's watching is just scared for Percy and the consequenses of yelling at Clarisse.

I imagine the "Look here comes the consequence of my actions chasing me right now" audio during this scene

- I’ve been trying -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

Synopsis - your secret relationship with clarisse quickly becomes not so secret

An - I BURNT MY FUCKING FINGER

Palestine aid links

It was a few hours before capture the flag. Most kids spent their time preparing for the game as it was the last one for summer; you however were pressed up against a tree with your favorite girl trailing sweet kisses down your neck.

“Fuck” you gasped as clarisse found your sweet spot. Bringing your hands to her hair you slightly tugged it, almost like an attempt to bring her closer of you could.

Clarisse flattened her tongue against the red mark she had began to leave. Her grip tightened on your hips and her leg pushing slightly between your thighs. The moment would of gone further only if clarisses brother hadn’t started yelling for hee.

Hitting her arm clarisse eventually came to, pulling away only slightly. “What-“ she panted heavily.

“Mm your brother he’s calling for you” you complained with a deep breath. Annoyed clarisse rolled her eyes. Taking a look around she returned her gaze back down at you, taking a notice of your pupil blown eyes. A giddy grin crossed her lips, finding her cocky attitude amusing you pushed off the tree to kiss her sweetly.

Shaking her head some clarisse squeezed your hip one last time. “You have no idea what you do to me… we’ll have to finish this later I’ll be busy for the rest of today and probably tomorrow” she sighed.

“Really” you complained making clarisse chuckle. “Yeah really, don’t get to bitchy it’s just two days”

Hitting her arm again you chuckled again. “Shut up I don’t get bitchy”

“Uh huh whatever you say babe” she teased drunkly walking backwards. Grabbing her spear she blew you a kiss before jogging towards the sound of her sibling calling.

——

“Then she has the AUDACITY! The fucking—“

“Language” you sighed giving Percy an authoritarian look. Shrugging you off he continued his ramble on about how he hated clarisse.

Shaking your head some you smiled finding it amusing your little brother hates your girlfriend. Though no body knew she was your girlfriend. You both agreeing on keeping it a secrete as it kept people off clarisses back and Percy off yours.

Your relationship with Percy had always been a little strained. Finding out you were a demigod let alone a daughter of Poseidon you had left home at an early age; causing you to never really know your brother. Growing up at camp it seemed like Percy was more like your friend than sibling. You still came home however, every holiday you were back in the same shitty apart with the same shitty step father.

When Percy finally came to camp it was easier to build a relationship with him. And for once… it felt like you really did have a brother.

“…also her blaming me for her spear breaking like it isn’t HER FAULT for attacking me! And I swear to the gods if I hear one more person say she isn’t that bad I’ll scream” Percy groaned holding his head in his hands while he paced in mad circles. Finally tuning back into the conversation the first thing you had heard — “UGH fuck clarisse!” He huffed.

“Girl I’m trying but she won’t be free until Sunday” you groaned holding your head back. It took only a moment for you to realize what you had said.

Looking at you then a door he quickly ran out, following his lead you chased after him. “Percy wait!” You yelled half laughing.

Instantly finding clarisse Percy stood before the cocky girl who was sitting with her siblings on the porch of their cabin; waiting for the final hour before the games.

Clarisse turned her attention from her brothers to Percy before scoffing. “What do You want beanstalk” her instult causing a small fit of laughter around her.

“MY SISTER OUT OF EVERYONE YOUR SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER!!” He shouted causing his face to go red.

The people around went quiet. For what seemed like minutes lasted only a few seconds before Percy began yelling again.

Clarisse who was stunned just sat there and let the boy yell at her. Standing right beside him was an embarrassed version of yourself.

At a certain point she had gotten tired of the small boy shouting at Her. His breaking voice annoying her. Standing up clarisse walked over to you, placing her hands on your waist and kissing you sweetly.

A slightly laugh leaving her lips as she knew your brother was watching in astonishment. Breaking the kiss she smiled at you before turning her shit eating grin to Percy. “Mind your business. What your sister does with me I’m sure you don’t wanna know” she chuckled, hitting your ass before walking away with her siblings following quickly.

Percy looked at you once again shocked. “Isn’t she dreamy” she smiled giddily. Your brother sighed, grabbing your shirt and dragging you away.

#wlw #clarisse is a lesbian #lesbian #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

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aviawrites · 7 months ago

Text

when we were teenagers (challengers)

pairings/relationships: tashi duncan x sister!reader, patrick zweig x fem!reader, art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: Tashi Duncan’s younger sister, Ava Duncan, never gets a chance to be seen past her sister’s shadow. When Ava gets injured and Tashi starts gaining fame, the two become more and more at odds with each other. Tashi juggles Art and Patrick while Ava struggles to keep up. When over a decade passes and a peace isn’t reached, either the Donaldsons or Zweigs, either Tashi or Ava, has to come out on top. (7.2k)

a/n: you know the movie was good when you have to rewatch so you have all the info for the fic🥴 with that being said, the dates and stuff may be a little off but i did my best with what wikipedia had to offer. regardless, im a patrick zweig stan 4L. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: description of injury, allusions to sex/almost a smut scene, swearing

in this story, yn is: Ava Duncan

March 16, 2006 //📍home, 9:35pm

The goofy grin on the brunette’s face and the blond’s childish giggle replays over and over in your head. Your mother’s muffled snores mix with Art’s laughs as a smile grows on your face, your eyes closed.

You’ve found yourself in this position too many times, imagining what could’ve been if the cute guys were eyeing you rather than your sister. But you’ve experienced it enough times to not even be hurt by it anymore. No guys approach you at volleyball events, especially not hot ones. So if anything, you find some comfort in lying upside down on the corduroy couch making up scenarios in your head.

The click of the front door forces your eyes open, sitting upright and perking up like a dog as your sister tip toes through the door.

“So…” You rest your chin on your fist, “Which one was it?”

“Shh,” Tashi smiles, pointing to your mom’s closed door. “Which one was what?”

“Come on,” You continue as she stands in front of you, “Which one did you…Y’know.”

“Oh my- Neither of them, Ava.”

“What!?”

“Shh!”

You lower your tone, “Seriously? You were alone with them both and didn’t make a move?”

“It wasn’t like that.” She laughs, “They’re like…I dunno, they’re weird.”

You scrunch your face up, “What, are they gay?”

She pauses, cocking her head.

“They’re actually gay?”

“No, no they’re not.” She giggles, “I just didn’t do anything with them. I mean we kissed but that’s it.”

“Did you kiss the blond?” You interrogate, “I really like the blond…”

“His name is Art and I kissed them both.” She smirks.

You roll your eyes, “Whatever.”

Tashi laughs at you, plopping next to you on the couch and resting her legs across yours.

“They did ask for my number again.”

“What’d you tell them?” You stroke her leg.

“I said whoever wins the match tomorrow gets it.”

“God, I wish.” You sigh, throwing your head back. “I’d kill to see Art just one more time…”

———

May 15th, 2006 //📍home, 6:00pm

You wince as your mom tightens the brace, covering your face in frustration.

“It’s okay, baby.” She kisses your head, “You tell me if you need anything, okay?”

You nod as she presses one more kiss onto your hair before walking out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Almost every athlete you know has been injured before, half of the girls on your team are covered in braces and tape all season. A torn ACL seems more like a right of passage than a serious and life changing injury. But when you heard the pop and felt the ligament rip, it was almost immediate; The realization that you very well may never play again. You’re not sure if yours was worse than others or if you’re just weaker, but the trauma of the blistering pain has turned you away from getting back on the court for the last month.

You already can tell who’s on the other side of the door from the lack of a knock. You internally sigh, wanting to be left alone, as Tashi sits at the foot of your bed.

“Hey, I was thinking we could go to the courts today. I could practice with you.”

“Tashi…”

“I know you haven’t been wanting to go but since you just hit a month I was thinking, you know, maybe you’d want to start working again.”

You shake your head, “Tashi, I don’t think I’m ready.”

“When will you be?” She asks, her voice stern.

You stare at her, “I don’t know, Tashi. Why?”

“I’m just saying Ava, it’s not good to stop for this long. Some people never get back out there and you have to at least try.”

“I am trying.” You raise your voice, “My insides tore apart. Sorry if I’m not eager to put pressure on myself again.”

“There’s no pressure I’m just asking you to get up and at least walk on a court again.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I’m fucking scared, Tashi!” You shout, tears falling from your eyes. “I’m fucking scared of it happening again! I am not ready!”

She stares at you, a look that you can only describe as disgust on her face.

“…You don’t even want to drive out there just to see-“

“Get out.” You cover your eyes, a headache creeping up on you.

“Ava, I’m not going to let you waste away in here-“

“Get out of my room or I’m calling mom.” You stare back at her, “Go.”

She stands, giving you one last look of disapproval before leaving, slighting slamming your door behind her.

———

September 18th, 2006 //📍Stanford Tennis Courts, 5:00pm

“Passing…Down the line…Cross…”

Tashi’s grunts echo throughout the court as you throw shots at her, a pile of green tennis balls forming behind you. It took a few weeks but she got you back on the court, just not the volleyball courts. You’ve watched Tashi’s practices long enough to know the game, so when you reluctantly offered to help her train, she jumped at the opportunity.

You zone out, robotically tossing the balls as Tashi dashes across the court. You silently hope for a specific someone show up. Patrick Zweig had your sister in his phone and occasionally in his bed, but Art Donaldson was a free man. The only Duncan in his phone was Ava, an achievement that you pride yourself on even weeks later.

Sure, the two of you aren’t a thing, not the way Tashi and Patrick are. But you’re happy to be anything with Art, so the talking stage that you seem to be stuck in doesn’t bother you at all. You can only pray that it’ll blossom into something. Something meaning you being Ava Donaldson in the near future.

As if you summoned him, a very familiar blond boy opens the wire door, locking eyes with you. Your heart skips a beat when he waves at you, your hand immediately dropping the ball and waving back.

Your sister turns around to see Art, a smile growing on her face as she walks over to him. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug as you watch. They barely pull away before Tashi begins chatting, her face too close to his for your liking.

Across the court, they’re too far for you to hear their conversation. But judging from Art’s hand draped over her waist and her arm resting on his shoulder, you see enough to be angry. You can only look down, waiting for the conversation, along with your humiliation, to end.

After an abundance of giggles, Art turns and walks away, giving you another wave.

“I’ll see you.” He smiles.

You purse your lips, terribly embarrassed as you nod, “Yeah. Good seeing you, Art.”

The door shuts and with it, your smile drops. Tashi gets back into position like nothing happened, waiting with her racquet. Playing along, you throw her the ball. Only, you don’t call the drill. You throw with a little more force and much more unpredictability as the anger in you rises.

“Ava…” Tashi calls, frantically chasing the ball.

It’s only when the ball flies past her head, barely missing her, that she stops.

“Ava, what the fuck!?”

She walks toward you, meeting you at the net.

She shrugs, “What’s up, what’s going on?”

“Are you serious?”

She only looks at you, confused.

“Tashi, come on. You were literally all over him.”

“Wh- Art?” She deciphers, “Oh, Ava my bad I didn’t mean- I really didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, sure you didn’t.”

“Seriously, I didn’t. He’s my friend I was just saying hey.”

“Saying hey with your arms around each other? That’s bullshit, just say you still like him.” You look down, mumbling. “It’s fine, it’s just annoying that you go after every guy I like knowing they’ll choose you.”

“Hey…” Tashi softens her tone, stepping over the net and nearing you. “Ava.”

“What?” You look at the ground.

“I didn’t mean it like that…” She insists, “I’m just stressed with school and stuff, he’s the only one who gets it.”

“Right.” You roll your eyes, not in the mood for ‘I’m stressed,’ to be the excuse for going after your guy. “It’s not like I go to school too or anything.”

“No, I know you do. It’s just…Stanford’s different, you know?”

“Whatever.”

“Ava,” She lifts your chin to look at her, “I’m sorry, okay?”

The two of you ogle at each other as she waits for an answer. She always does this, almost forces you into accepting her apology which you do not.

“We good?” She asks.

“…Yeah, sure.” You shrug, pulling away from her, “It’s whatever.”

Tashi just looks at you once more, seemingly satisfied as she steps back over the net. She gets back into position as you pick up another ball, a look still on your face.

“Down the line.”

———

December 21st, 2006 //📍Stanford Dining Hall, 12:00pm

“How many?” The employee asks.

“Umm, can I have three?” You lean on the counter, “Or four, actually.”

She reaches under the counter before handing you four mayo packets.

“Thanks.”

You start the walk back toward the table, Patrick having picked the one in the far back. He clearly hasn’t returned from the bathroom as you see Art and Tashi still sitting alone. As you near them, you catch a glimpse of their conversation.

“Don’t you think you deserve it?” Art asks, his eyes so focused on your sister that he doesn’t see you walking up. “I mean, who wouldn’t be in love with you?”

Tashi doesn’t respond, only angrily stands and walks away, nearly knocking you over. She passes you, smoke practically coming out of her ears. You watch her go before sitting where she was, handing Art the packets.

“Thanks.” He smiles, “Patrick still in there?”

“I guess so.” You laugh, insecurity lacing your voice as you simultaneously try to decode the conversation they were having.

“I’m so not surprised.” He takes the bun off of his burger and tears open the white packet with his teeth.

You watch him, hesitant to speak. Though, your words spill out before you can stop them.

“Do you ever wish Patrick let you win the match?” You ask.

Art looks up at you, mid squeeze. He cracks an unsure smile.

“What kind of question is that?” He laughs.

“I don’t know,” You do the same, tragically self conscious. “Maybe you wonder what it’d be like to date my sister or something. I don’t know, it’s stupid.” You look down, fiddling with your fingers.

Art pauses, putting his burger down and placing his hands on yours.

“Hey,” He grabs your attention, “I’m here with you today.

You smile, “No, I know. It’s just…She’s like better than me in every way so I wouldn’t blame you.” You chuckle.

“What? I don’t think so, I think you’re great.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t get in to Stanford. Nor do I win all of the tennis tournament or-“

“Ava,” Art stops you, shaking your head. “You’re just as good as Tashi.”

Your eyes tread on each other as you try your hardest to believe him. But you do realize that this is the exact same way he looked at Tashi on the courts.

The two of you are snapped out of it as Patrick returns, taking his seat next to Art.

“Sorry, they had like no toilet paper.”

“Oh good, thanks for letting us all know you took a shit, bud.”

“Whatever. Ava doesn’t give a shit, right?”

“No,” You laugh, “You’re all good, Pat.”

———

📍Tashi’s dorm, 2:00pm

“So if he’s seeing other girls I won’t even fucking know now.” Tashi vents, stretching for her match.

You scroll on your phone, sitting at her desk. “It sounds like he was just trying to be nice, Tash. He was trying to help you out-“

“No, he’s not nice. Nothing about them is nice, Ava. They’re fucking weirdos, both of them. Art just hides behind this persona that he’s so caring and team Duncan when really he wants the same thing from me as Patrick.”

‘He wants the same thing from me.’

You sigh, tired of hearing the same things and watching her run back to them minutes later.

“Then stop complaining and fucking leave him already.”

Tashi stops in her lunge, “What?”

“You keep complaining about them.” You grunt, “If you really didn’t want the attention you’d just drop them both.”

“If I didn’t want the attention?”

“Yes.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” You say, irritated.

“Ava…” She stands up, looking down at you. You continue scrolling until your phone is snatched from you. “Hey.”

“What the-“

“Do you have something to say to me?”

“Give me my phone back.” You stand up, reaching for it.

“No, say what you mean.”

“Really?” You grab for your phone once more but she pulls it away from you like a child, “Fuck - Okay, Tashi, all you talk about is how hard your life is. How hard training is for a tournament that you know you're going to win. How hard it is dating a famous and touring athlete. How hard it is being friends with the nicest guy who only wants to help you. How fucking hard it is to have two guys fighting over you. How hard it is to go to an ivy league. How hard it is to live the fucking dream. How about you actually do something about it instead of rubbing it in our faces that you're above us and can play with two guys at once because you're so fucking amazing?"

The two of you stand nose to nose, a stance Tashi used to always initiate in order to intimidate you.

“How long have you felt this way?” She asks, her breath shaking.

“Ever since you became the Tashi Duncan and I was left in the dust. Now give me my phone.”

“Are you fucking serious, Ava? You think I asked for this?”

“Asked for what? A great life where you succeed in fucking everything? No, Tashi, you didn't have to ask for it. We worked so fucking hard and only you survived it. I succumbed to my fate, I quit my dream, I went to a shitty college, had shitty friends, watched shitty games, and watched the boys I liked fight for my sister. But no; Please, continue bitching about your hard situation."

You snatch your phone from her hands, walking toward the door. "Good luck at your fucking match."

———

2:45pm

You barely look up as you exit the library, occupied with connecting your earbuds to your phone. It’s only when you see a familiar black head of hair sitting in the common area that you stop.

“Patrick?”

He looks back, taking his feet off of the Stanford branded coffee table.

“Oh, hey Ava.” He makes space for you to sit beside him on the small loveseat. “How’s it goin’?”

“Good, um…” You put your stuff on the floor and sit next to him, “Why aren’t you at the tournament?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He smiles that same crooked smile from the night you met him.

You curl your legs up, leaving your arm on the back of the seat. “Did y’all fight too?”

Patrick leans back, looking over at you. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.” He laughs.

“What was yours about?” You pry, smiling.

“Uh,” He rubs his eye, “Just…not letting her control me. I’m my own boss kind of shit.”

“Seriously?”

“…Yeah, why?”

“That’s what our fight was about too!” You burst into giggles, “Well, not her controlling me but her controlling you. And Art, him too.”

“Shit, Art too?”

“Yeah, I mean, especially Art. You’re the only one who stands up to her bullshit.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, “I don’t know, you seem to put up a good fight.”

“Yeah, but I’m her sister. It’s takes a brave man to break free of Tashi Duncan.”

“Oh god, did I break free?”

“You definitely broke free.” The two of you laugh.

“No but I see what you’re saying, she definitely had me whipped.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I remember one time,” He turns toward you, getting comfy, “The first time her and I, um…”

“Oh, Jesus.” You cover your face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He laughs, “But the first time we did, I remember she said she’d leave me if I told anyone. And I was head over heels, so of course I didn’t want to tell, right?”

“Right.”

“But Art’s my guy, y’know? So instead of being straight up and jeopardizing Tashi’s love, we made this stupid ass signal.” He tells in between laughs, “The way that Art serves - Like, you know how he puts the ball at the neck of his racquet?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You listen intently.

“Well, if I served that way, that meant yes, we did sleep together, And if I served my way, it meant we didn’t.”

“…And?”

“Well, I put that motherfucker right in the middle.”

“Oh my-“

You and Patrick erupt into laughs, covering your mouths as the librarian eyes the two of you. Your stomach starts to ache, not being able to remember the last time you had this kind of belly laugh.

“Well, cheers to breaking free of her.” You put your fist up.

“Oh hell yeah, cheers to that.” He bumps it.

———

3:05pm

The crowd outside thins out as you and Patrick head down the back halls and toward the parking lot. In true honor of breaking free, the two of you decided to not say goodbye. Instead, you’d go home without saying a word to your sister.

You’re a few doors down from the exit when Patrick stops in his tracks, looking into the nurses office.

“Tashi…” He walks in.

You enter the doorway, peeking in behind him. Inside, you see Tashi sitting on the table, Art by her side.

“No, out.” Your sister points.

“I’m sorry-“

“Get out!”

“Tashi, listen to me-“

“No, get out!”

“Please-“

“Patrick, get the fuck out!” Art shouts, standing.

Patrick stays for a moment, taken aback as he looks from Tashi to Art. If he has the same vision as you, it’s clear that it’s them against him. It’s no longer Patrick and Tashi, but Art and Tashi.

He looks back at you before obeying, walking down the hallway.

Now alone, you come into full view, nearing your sister.

“Tash, what happened-“

“You too.”

You stop, tilting your head. “What?”

“I don’t want you here, leave.”

“Wh- Are you serious?”

“Ava, I think you should just go.” Art says lowly, wary to step in between you too.

You ignore him, “Tashi, I’m your sister.”

You get no answer, she only looks forward. You look at Art as he stands over her like some bodyguard.

Just as Patrick did, you back away, realizing what this is. You frantically look between the two as you wait for Tashi to change her mind, to see that regardless of what fight you had you’re still sisters. Though, it’s clear that doesn’t mean anything to her, it’s been clear for a while now.

Now, it’s only Art and Tashi.

———

10:03pm

“Coming in from Stanford; Student and highly lauded tennis player, Tashi Duncan, took a hard hit at her match against Pepperdine this afternoon. Sources say a hard fracture to the knee has Tashi in the care of medical professionals. It is unknown if she’ll ever be able to play again.”

The blinding fluorescent lights of the cheap fast food place burn your eyes as you and Patrick look up at the TV.

You bury your head in your hands, groaning.

“Fuck.”

“She probably thinks she’ll never be able to play again.”

“Please, please don’t say that, Patrick. I’ll feel so guilty.”

“Ava, there’s nothing we could’ve done.”

“We could’ve at least showed up.” You rub a hand over your head.

“Hey,” He forces you to look at him, “None of this is our fault, okay? Injured or not, she still treated us like shit. Art only gets to stay by her side because he’s whipped.”

“I just…” You sigh, “I just wish I had been there.”

The two of you stand up, leaving the restaurant. Outside, a huge Adidas billboard with your sister’s face on it dominates the sky.

The two of you get into Patrick’s car, him cranking it up and turning down the radio.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay.” He nods, looking at you.

“Like…” You think, “Your tour.”

“Oh, God.”

You laugh, “When are you set to go back?”

“Uh, next week I’m pretty sure. But if I’m being honest, I don’t even want to go. I’ve been getting my ass kicked out there.”

“Patrick, Tashi would lose it if she heard you say that.”

He leans in, resting his arms on the center console as he examines your face. “Let’s not talk about Tashi…”

“Okay,” You hold the intense eye contact that he began, “What do you want to talk about?”

His nose is almost touching yours as you unconsciously near him, eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips.

“Let’s talk about you.” He grins, rubbing your waist.

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me what you like.” He says, lowering his lips to your neck and softly pressing.

“I, um,” You tilt, holding the back of his head as he gets sloppier, “I loved volleyball. My team was out of California but we travelled for tournaments. We ranked…fuck…we ranked second in the country-“

Patrick cuts you off, his lips ravaging yours as he runs his hands over you. You can’t stop yourself from leaning into him, crawling over to sit on his lap. Both of your hands get more and more heavy as he pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it in the backseat.

“Fuck,” You say in between kisses, “Fuck, wait.”

“What?” He looks up at you, “What, is something wrong?”

“Is this wrong to do?” You ask, out of breath. “Should we stop? What about Tashi and Art?”

“They yelled at us to leave when we tried to help.” He reminds you, “Why should we stop when they treated us like that?”

You look at him, convincing yourself that you’re considering it when all you want to feel is your mouth on his.

And you do, pushing the thoughts of Tashi and Art far from your mind.

———

February 15th, 2011 // 📍Zweig condo, 9:30am

5 years later

At one point in your life, it would take you multiple seconds to figure out how to say the dollar amount that you and your husband had in your bank account. Now, as the number almost falls short of five figures, you feel ashamed just looking at it.

You switch tabs on the laptop, the light from the ceiling to floor window behind it hurting your eyes. Scrolling through tournament options, the distances only get further and the prize money higher. Years ago, you and Patrick wouldn’t even consider the amount, as Patrick just wanted to play tennis; And that still holds true, only you’ve been stuck in your ways for so long that he’s forgotten how to play to win.

Nails scratch the hardwood behind you as your golden doodle, Bear, comes barreling down the hall. Right behind him is your husband, chasing the dog around the living room.

“I’m gonna getcha, I’m gonna getcha!” He says, the dog running desperately from him.

You chuckle, “Good morning.”

You hear Patrick give Bear a smooch before walking over to you, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“Good morning, baby.” He kisses your neck, looking at the screen. “Found anything good?”

“Not really,” You groan, frustrated. “I don’t know when these matches got so fucking far.”

“It’s okay,” He strokes your head, “I’m sure there’s one we can make it to.”

You continue scrolling, the qualifier maximum getting smaller and smaller.

“What about this one?” He points.

“Atlanta? Patrick, that’s on the other side of the country.”

“I know, I know. But we can make the trip, no? I hear some of our friends may be there.”

You turn your head, furrowing your brows at him. A sly smile plasters over his face, one that makes you realize all too quickly.

“They’re going to be there?”

He nods.

“God, why would you want to be anywhere near them?”

“We probably won’t even see them, baby. But if they’re there we’ll have a big crowd.”

You think on it, the thought of seeing Tashi making your stomach turn in knots.

“…And look at that winner’s reward money.” He says convincingly.

A sigh escapes you before clicking submit, Patrick’s entry automatically being sent.

“Mm,” He kisses your wedding ring finger, “Thank you, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You jokingly roll your eyes, pecking him on the cheek.

——

February 24th, 2011 //📍Atlanta, 7:40pm

Nausea consumes you as Patrick’s smell fills your senses. The aroma of the city is one thing, the aroma of your husband another, but the scent of your sister’s old perfume radiates off of him like a cancer.

You watch as he sets his coat down, coming behind the couch to kiss you.

“Did you-“ You pull your face away, not able to let him touch you, “Did you see anyone we know?”

Patrick is taken aback, looking at you with a confused smile.

“No…Why?”

His eyes bore into yours as you search for any answer than the one you’re imagining. Though, as he hands you the chinese takeout bag and takes a seat next to you, you find yourself voiding the conclusion entirely; Your mind not willing to believe the man you love would be meeting her.

He wraps his arms around you, watching the TV. As the smell seems to corrupt every sense you have, a tear sneaks into your cheek, the possibility still piercing your gut. Even so, you wrap your arms back around him.

As of this moment, the comfort of hiding in his arms trumps the possibilities of the truth.

——

June 3rd, 2013 // 📍Zweig Condo, 3:00pm

2 Years Later

‘Hey, I know it’s been a while. But if you’re willing, I’d love to come out and see you and the baby. - A ♡’

The ‘Read’ under your message seems to taunt you the longer you stare. Your phone screen is interrupted by a call, ‘Mom,’ at the top of the screen. You answer.

A small gasp escapes you as you’re immediately met with the smallest human you’ve ever seen. You’d know she was Tashi’s in a sea of babies. You wave your husband over, eyes staying on the baby.

“Oh my goodness.” You whisper, “Hi, baby.”

Her eyes stay closed, her hands in small fists.

“Oh, Ava, she’s so beautiful.” Your mom lowly says down the phone.

“Is…” You wipe away a stray tear, “Is Tashi okay?”

The camera flips from the baby to your mother.

“You know you could always ask her yourself, honey.”

“No, I know. But- Just tell them we said congratulations. She’s precious.”

Your mom lets out a sigh as she looks from you to behind the camera.

“Mom, who is that?” You hear your sister’s voice in the background.

Your hands turn clammy, your heart beating faster and faster as she begins to turn the phone to Tashi.

“Um, Mom we gotta go, we’re breaking up. I love you-“

“Wait, Ava-“

“Love you, mom.” You spit out, hanging up and turning your phone face down.

You stare out for a minute, shocked at your body’s response to your sister’s voice. Sobs escape your mouth before you can stop them. You shove your face in your hands.

“Oh, baby.” Patrick holds you, rubbing your back.

“It’s been too long.” You cry, “She fucking hates me.”

“You don’t know that.” He reassures you, “She may come around. You did good.”

———

May 1st, 2019 // 📍New Rochelle, 10:00am

6 Years later

Making it to New York from home took up the rest of Patrick’s savings. The house that you downsized to is completely funded by you and your remote sales salary. Patrick continues to fight a losing battle with tennis, barely able to pay for food for himself every week. Straining your marriage was the last consequence of his money struggles. Though, it has the biggest impact on your day to day. Nonetheless, you remain by his side. In all honesty, you’re not completely sure how to continue anywhere else.

“I’m going to see Art today.” Patrick tells you, downing a handful of trail mix.

“Art?” You ask, holding Bear’s paws on your

thighs, “Why would you do that? It’s been years.”

“I think it’s been long enough, we’re already here.” He shrugs, “I think it might be good for me.”

You focus on Bear, still not seeing a clear reason as to why he’d want to speak to Art after a decade.

“Maybe you should go see Tashi.”

Your eyes snap to him, her name barely being spoken in your house for the last six years.

“…And do what?”

He shrugs, “Might be good for you…”

…

1:00pm

Your stomach seems to twist in a thousand ways as you continuously fix your hair and outfit on the way into the far too fancy hotel. As you pass the lobby, you almost turn around and throw up. But as your sister heads for the elevator, you know this is your one chance to speak to her.

Your shoes thump against the marble floor as you jog after her.

“T- Tashi!” You whisper shout, reaching her just in time.

She turns around. Taking one look at you, she looks to your left and right, utterly confused.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, tone laced with disgust.

It’s been so long. She looks so different, her voice has such a maturity to it. But that dominating energy that she brings everywhere hasn’t changed a bit.

“Well I…” You fumble, all of your practice going out the window. “ I heard you were here, I wanted to say hello.”

“Say hello?” She looks you up and down, turning her full attention to you as she steps forward. “Honestly, I don’t want your fucking hello, Ava. Really, I don’t.”

You shake your head, “Tashi-“

"I can't believe you have the balls to be here. After what you fucking did to me."

"What I-“ You compose yourself, remembering exactly how arguments with your sister always go. “Tashi, what the fuck did I do to you?"

"Are you serious?" She asks, "You're joking, yes?"

"No, I'm really not."

"You left me for 13 years by my fucking self." She raises her voice, "I had a wedding, I had a baby, and where were you? My sister was too stuck on a grudge to ever come back into my life, you're a waste of my fucking time." She begins to walk away.

“Hey.” You follow her, grabbing her arm and spinning her back around.

“Get off.”

"Not one of those events was I invited to, Tash. Not one. If you wanted me back, if you gave a shit, you would've acted like it. But you're not going to sit here and act like I was in the wrong and I should've reached out to you. Hell, I did fucking reach out to you.”

“In the wrong?” She snatches her arm from you. “Ava, are you clinically fucking stupid? You're hung up on a situation from 13 years ago-"

"No, but it's not from 13 years ago, Tashi.” You cut her off, getting in her face. “Because you're doing the same thing right now that you did when you were 18. You're sitting here blaming the world for your life decisions. You're blaming me for being angry that you were and are a narcissist who wants someone else to be the athlete that you never were. Every time I thought of coming back l'd imagine what my sister would say and I couldn't do it. But guess what Tashi, now I see through you. I fucking see it, Patrick sees it, and when Art finally opens his eyes you'll finally see yourself for what you are."

She stares at you, a chuckle escaping her. "Ava, this is pathetic. Genuinely. Because at the end of the day, it's not my fucking fault that you gave up. Now l'm in a position where I don't have to be here. I have a life, a pretty fucking good one, outside of this. Outside of you. This Final, it's practice. It's fucking child's play for us, whereas for the Zweigs...This is it for you. Your last fucking loss.”

“Yeah. Okay Tash.” You roll your eyes, "Keep throwing insults at me to distract from the fact that you're a shitty person."

"I'm a shitty pers- You fucking abandoned your family for 13 fucking years!"

"Because my sister is an insufferable egomaniac who can't accept the fact that her husband doesn't want to do this shit anymore and her tennis life is over!” You shout back, your voices echoing throughout the hotel. “It's fucking over Tashi, give it up. That's why I left you, because you're fucking dreadful! You're dreadful and everyone knows it."

Tashi slowly nods, the hotel staff looking at the two of you.

"...Ava, do you know what your husband does late at night?"

Your eyes widen, your heart skipping a beat as she addresses the unspoken.

"Fuck you." You spit.

"I'm really asking, because from what I experienced...You're a lucky woman."

Now you’re the one with disgust in your eyes, the urge to spit in her face stronger than ever before.

“…Say hi to mom for me, Tashi." You say, your hands balling into fists.

“Happy to.” She utters, walking toward the elevator. “Tell Patrick I’m wishing him good luck.”

…

3:00pm

You only tell your husband bits a pieces of your encounter, not daring to remind him of the man he was in Atlanta.

“I don’t even know why I tried.”

“Both of them are assholes.” He agrees, “At least now we’re sure of it.”

“I guess.” You bite your nails, stroking Bear’s ears. “Patrick you have to beat him in the Final. We can’t let them win.”

“I know, baby.” He nods, on your wavelength. “I know.”

——

May 4th, 2019 // Night Before the Final, 11:25pm

“Pat, it’s really coming down out there.” You look out of the hotel window, tarps flying into the street. “What if they cancel the match?”

“They’d never do that.” He watches the TV, “It should lighten up by morning.”

You hum, snuggling next to him as the bright screen flashes through an action sequence. Patrick’s phone vibrates, his phone brightness lighting the rest of the room.

“Oh, baby.” He shifts his body, making you sit up. “I gotta go.”

“Now? Why?” You try to look on his phone but he pulls it away, scrolling.

“I have to, um,” He rubs his head, looking stressed. “My racquet, I have to pick it up.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“They just messaged reminding me that we have to have this certain racquet to compete tomorrow.” He stands up, rushing toward the door.

“What- Patrick,” You follow him, “It’s like a fucking flash flood out there, can you not do this tomorrow?”

“Baby, they close at midnight, I gotta go,” He kisses you, “I love you.”

“Patrick, wait-“

“I love you, I have to go!” He shuts the door behind him.

…

12:30am

You have a strange urge to cry as you scroll through Art Donaldson’s instagram. Photos of him and his seemingly perfect family are plastered all over, an ‘@Tashidonaldson ♡’ at the top of his bio.

Patrick never wanted kids, said they’d cost too much and you couldn’t care for them. He was correct about the former, but care for children, you are willing and able to do. But when you married him, he did a lot of the decision making for you.

Now, as he’s blown all of your savings, lost his tennis touch, and been out of the damn hotel room for an hour doing god knows what , you wish you could shout at past you to get a grip.

Though, looking at these picture now, you wish you could do the same to past Art Donaldson too.

———

May 5th, 2019 // 📍New Rochelle Courts, 1:00pm

Final Day

The crowd’s heads robotically turned side to side as Art and Patrick dog it out in a vicious match. You sit in your assigned seat next to your sister, the endless stream of slander not ceasing, not even today.

“Is he retiring after this?” You ask, your head still going between the men.

Tashi shrugs, her expression hidden behind her sunglasses. “Maybe.”

"...I don't think Patrick will ever retire. I think tennis is all he has."

She hums, "If only he'd start winning his matches."

"He doesn't always play for the wins, Tashi."

"Yeah, he plays for the participation money."

"Maybe he does." You say, "At least he does it by choice."

She looks to you, her attention no longer on her husband’s tie breaker. "Art does it by choice."

“Like hell he does.” You scoff, “He wouldn't be retiring after becoming a Career Grand Slam if he wanted to be doing this.”

“Art is an adult, he does what he wants.” She looks back to the court.

“Art is your slave, he does what you want.”

Tashi continues trying to get to you. As Patrick sets for his next serve, he looks in your direction. Only, he isn’t looking at you, he’s looking at your sister. He returns his gaze to Art, placing his ball in the neck of his racquet.

Both you and Art freeze, staring at your husband. The men seem to be in their own world, but Patrick must’ve forgotten that you know too. The word seems to muffle around you as you stare at your husband’s evil grin at Art.

You stand on shaky legs, grasping your stomach as bile threatens to come up.

“Hey…” Tashi calls after you, “Ava, what the fuck are you doing?”

You run to the nearest exit, Patrick’s blatant disrespect and repulsiveness making you want to genuinely die where you stand.

It’s only as you stumble to your car that it truly hits you who the man you married really is, and how he really sees you.

Like everyone else, he thinks you’re a pawn in Tashi’s game. A piece that can be battered and bruised but will never go away, as it’s crucial to the game of Tashi. You want to vomit as you sit in your car, Patrick’s scent sending you into a violent sick.

———

May 14th, 2019 // 📍Zweig home, 12:00pm

9 Days Later

Three knocks at the door echo through your almost empty house. You pause your show, unlatching the chain and opening it.

Patrick stands in front of you, a hysterical attempt of a sad expression on his face.

“Everything’s here.” You walk him in, pointing to the boxes full of his stuff in the kitchen. “The only things that aren’t are your racquets, trophies, cups, stuff like that. Those are in the closet so they wouldn’t get mixed up.”

“Thanks.” He says, feeling like an alien in this house.

“Yeah.” You give him a thumbs up, returning to the couch next to Bear.

He spends an hour loudly moving his things from the kitchen to his car, the sound almost drowning out your show. Regardless, you stay put, wanting him to be done as fast as he can.

“Ava…” He calls over the reality TV. You ignore him, popping another veggie straw into your mouth.

Suddenly, his arm comes from behind you, grabbing the remote and muting it.

“Hey.” You turn around.

“I’m talking to you.”

“Okay, well I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Ava, I’m sorry-“

“Pat,” You chuckle, not being able to keep it in. “Don’t even.”

“Baby, listen to me, okay? I fucked up-“

“Patrick, Patrick!” You stand up, “Just stop, okay? Leave me be, finish getting your shit, and I’ll have the papers served to you by the end of the week.”

“Baby, no. Please.”

“Honey, there’s nothing you can say.” You shake your head, having prepared for his begging days ago. “Go beg to your mistress, yeah?”

He continues rambling, stumbling over his words. “Ava, it was such a bad mistake. I told myself it was strategy and- And because me and her have a complicated past I couldn’t see straight-“

“But nothing about us is complicated, right? We are married, we’re supposed to be a team. But you betrayed me, plain and simple.” You lay it out for him, “You’re a cheater and we’re done, now go.”

“It was a mistake-“

“Patrick…” You inhale, “I’m trying not to lose it, you need to get the fuck out.”

“Just hear me out-“

“Get out of the house, Patrick.”

“We can come back from this, Ava. We can.”

Your jaw hangs agape in genuine disbelief. He seems to notice he fucked up again as he stops speaking. You walk around the couch, getting in his face the same way Tashi used to get in yours.

“Patrick,” You begin, “I gave everything for you. I gave up my life, I gave up my family, I gave up Art, I left it all for you. I abandoned so much to be in your corner because I was in love with you, I really was. Whether you felt the same about me, I’ll never actually know-“

“I loved you, baby. I still love you-“

“But I thought you were the one who understood me, Patrick. But somehow every time I gave you a chance to correct yourself you threw it away to be with Tashi. Over and over. She’s constantly being picked over me, her feelings over mine, her body over mine, her opinion over mine…You’re just another one of her fans. You’re just like Art- Honestly, you’re fucking worse. At least he pretended to like me all those years ago. Now, as my husband, you just don’t give a shit. Just publicly showing that you slept with my sister.”

“…Why do you keep bringing up Art?” He looks down at you, “Do you- Do you feel something for him still?”

“Oh my fucking-“ You cover your face, composing yourself once again before continuing. “Pat, it’s been a long, long time since this all started. And if I could go back I’d change many things. But at the end of it all, I’m here because I worked for it and I endured it. You and Art can stay stuck under Tashi’s finger, that’s fine. But I know that life is bigger than that. Bigger than this weird threesome love triangle shit that you circle back to every few years. I am a grown woman who is in control of her own life so if you don’t have anymore comments, you need to get out and sign the papers when they’re served to you, Patrick.”

“…Baby, please,” He cries, his lip quivering. “You love me, we love each other. Please just think about it.”

You tilt your head, “Do you want me to be honest?”

Patrick nods, hiccuping on his tears.

“…All of this is really really beneath me.” You quietly tell him.

He lowers his head, his hands covering his eyes.

“When I was 18 I might have been broken over stuff like this but…” You shrug, “Things are very very different from when we were teenagers.”

#challengers #challengers fic #challengers imagine #challengers fanfic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #art donaldson fic #patrick zweig fic #art donaldson challengers #patrick zweig challengers #challengers film #tashi duncan fic

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satanghulu · 27 days ago

Text

THIS IS A GUIDE ON HOW TO FALL IN LOVE WITH A DEMON THAT YOU SUMMONED THROUGH YOUR ECONOMIC TEXTBOOK (NO CLICKBAIT AND 100% REAL!!)

✦ PAIRING: satan x g!n reader ✦ SUMMARY: Okay, you didn’t mean to summon a demon nor did you mean to throw a book at him but hey, it’s not like you expected the literal embodiment of Wrath to apparate in your apartment! Now, if only he could go back to where he came from… ✦ WARNING: sort of canon-compliant, Reader has a personality! college!au, mentions of violence, solomon calls you sunshine, made up my own magic system, reader is shorter than satan (mentioned in one scene), mention of alcohol, use of MC instead of Y/N, Hell and Devildom used interchangeably, suggestive at the end! ✦ WC: 14.8K

MAIN STORY | FIC MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

You were going to kill Solomon.

It’s a well-known fact that that guy was shady as hell, but seriously? Was he trying to give you an express pass straight to Death’s doorstep or something? Maybe he had always harboured a secret dislike for you because why on earth did the Economics textbook he lent you summon a--demon?!

“Human. Are you done staring at me?” The man--no, demon? brushes off the dust on the back of his pants. You mourn for the state of your flooring which now resembles the set of a Miley Cyrus hit song.

Wait, were those polka dots you see on his pants? What are those hideous things draped across his neck? And, what was with his disaster of a shirt? For a second, you thought you had teleported to an alternate Jojo Bizarre Adventure universe.

”Your outfit is ugly as hell.” You blurted out, hands delayed in flying up to cover your mouth when you realised the words had escaped you.

The man--no, the demon turns with flashing eyes, his tail swishing dangerously behind him. Oh my god, were those spikes embedded in them? Suddenly, you regret ever opening your mouth – this is why people always tell you to keep your mouth shut when you are in a sleep-deprived state. You could feel sweat beading at the side of your temple as you slowly backed away, edging to the bedroom door.

“Are you courting death, little lamb?” He hissed, taking a step closer. That tail of his had started going wild, destroying one of your night lamps in the process. You would hate to imagine the destruction it would cause to you.

You took furtive glances around the room, swallowing hard when you realised the only makeshift weapon you had was the Economics textbook that Solomon had lent you.

The demon’s eyes had narrowed into slits, breathing coming out hot and heavy as if he was poised to attack you at a moment’s notice. Your grip on the textbook tightened as he advanced nearer to you, now a couple of steps away.

“Answer me, human--” The demon mocked you again, arms stretching forward presumably to attack you as you--

You threw the textbook at him.

Thud!

The textbook bounced off his head with a loud thud as he just stared at you in disbelief. At least, you had managed to get a headshot – your only accomplishment in life alongside the stupidest thing you have ever done. And somehow, you had landed yourself in deeper trouble if the shaking with barely contained rage from the thing was any indication.

You silently sent a prayer to the deity above, hoping that whoever was watching you from above would grant you a peaceful death. Although you weren’t one to believe much in religion, this seemed like a good time to start. Maybe next, an angel would drop from the sky too.

“HAHAHAHA!”

The hands you had raised as a shield were being forcefully put down by the entity in front of you.

“HAHAHA, I didn’t know humans could be this interesting.” Oh. The shaking was from laughter, you noted dumbly. You stared blankly at him before taking another step back, trying to covertly loosen his grip around your wrist.

After struggling in his grip for a good minute, you gave up the fight and waited for his laughter to die down. “HAHAHAHA. I never thought the day would come when I would get bested by a human. HAHAHA.”

Great, it seemed like the “demon” was showing signs of being a maniac too.

The entity in front of you kept mumbling to himself with a crazed look in his eyes. Honestly, you were getting kind of worried for him too. There’s no way getting smacked by a book is as funny as he made it sound.

After another minute, his laughter finally subsided and his hold on you had loosened enough for you to wiggle out tentatively. The thing stared at you before his mouth curled into an unsettling grin, giving you goosebumps all over your arm.

“So human, tell me why you summoned a demon.”

Well, at least you got your answer to the burning question plaguing you. However, it was not a confirmation you wanted to hear at the moment. It wasn’t reassuring, one bit at all.

“You have piqued my interest, little lamb. Tell me why a measly human like you summoned one of the seven Denizens of Hell. What could possibly be your deepest desires?” said demon asked, voice growly in a way that gave you butterflies in the stomach; but the butterflies were trying to tear its way out to escape.

It took you a few moments to register his sentence. The seven Denizens of Hell? You weren’t familiar with the concept but it seems to indicate that the demon standing before you holds a high rank which means you must be in deeper trouble than you had initially thought.

“Uh.” You started. “I didn’t summon you, I think?” You dragged out your words hesitantly, holding out both hands in front of you defensively. Immediately, his face pinched into a frown as he studied your expression.

“You’re not lying.” He concluded after a second. You wonder how he came to that answer. Are demons equipped with the ability to tell lies? It seemed like an overkill.

“Though, something must have happened for me to be summoned.” He sighed, finally moving out of your personal space to scan around your room – which had been trashed from the black void that had opened up in the middle of your room to teleport the demon.

As you quietly bemoaned the state of your living quarters, the demon strides towards the textbook lying innocently on the ground. “This is it.” He bent at the waist to lean down and studied the title of the cover. “An Introduction to Economics: 1st Edition.” He said stonily, fingers curled around the spine of the textbook.

“How did you know?” It was a curious sight to witness, a demon with actual horns completed with a barbed tail standing in the middle of the wreckage of your room as if he belonged there. You could hardly believe it but sadly, no matter how many times you rubbed your eyes, the scene remained the same.

“I felt the magic radiating off it.” He answered simply as if it was something you should have known too.

“Where did you get the book from?”

“My friend lent it to me because-- Oh fuck.” You suddenly froze, feeling the blood drain from your face. The demon stared at you inquisitively, prompting you to finish your sentence.

“I have an exam tomorrow.”

Despite your reluctance to let the demon stay, he had unfortunately made himself comfortable on the singular standing chair in the bedroom as you pore over the book that Solomon had lent you. He had insisted on staying with you, even going as far as to force you to take responsibility for summoning him.

Seeing as there were no alternatives for now, you decided to deal with him after your current pressing issue – The Econs Midterm.

“What are you doing?” The demon asked you curiously. He had somehow donned a human appearance and out of the goodness of your heart, you had lent him some clothes that thankfully fit him. If you didn’t know better, he could even come off as harmless.

In fact, without the scary appendages on him, and if you look at him from the right angle, he was honestly kind of cute.

His voice had also turned less menacing which soothened your heart. You pointed to the textbook in response, squirming in your seat as he leaned close to your face. Do demons not have any concept of personal space?

“Your answer for part (b) is wrong.”

With an intent look, he pulls back after examining your scribbles on the mock exam beside the book. “You should use a contractionary fiscal policy to combat inflation instead.”

Instead of spewing out the first thought in your head, you decided to carefully choose your words this time. “...You study?”

Maybe, you should have thought through your words more.

Thankfully, the demon didn’t take any offense to it. “Yes. Why? Is it so surprising that a demon had gone through formal education?”

Huh. You didn’t know that demons studied human-world subjects, much less went through a similar educational system to the human world. It was a pretty pleasant surprise, though you would have thought their curriculum would consist of ways to manipulate, slaughter, or seduce humans.

“Kinda.” You muttered, turning back to your notes. You itched to continue the conversation, the urge to know more about the differences between both of your worlds weighing heavily on you, alas the evergrowing pressure from your textbook was calling your name.

Yet, the demon continued to stare at the back of your head from the corner of your eye. You don’t believe that a human head is much different from a demon but you kept your complaints down. For now.

Your pen drummed impatiently on the table as you tried your best to focus on the words in front of you but the insistent staring was getting to your head.

“Is the back of my head so interesting to look at?”

Oh. The words escaped again. Instinctively, your hands flew up again blocking the sight of the demon beside you. You started your farewells to your family, your friends, the neighbourhood cats, wait, who’s going to feed them if you die--

“I’m going to tutor you.”

Maybe you heard him wrongly. Gingerly, you set your hands down demurely on your lap and nodded to yourself. It must have been your hearing that was at fault. There is no way that the demon you summoned just offered to tutor you in a human-world subject. Does he even know what Economics in the human world is?

“I’ve never seen anyone so horrendous in Economics before. I’m tutoring you.” The demon dragged the chair over, situating himself right beside you. This was when you realised this was not a dream or hallucination you had conjured up.

“It’s a disgrace to the subject that someone could be this awful at it.” With every syllabus, it felt like a stab to your heart. Hey, it wasn’t your fault that you were bad at this. You were practically forced to take the subject as one of your modules because you had lost in the bidding stage. And, it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t turn up for the majority of the lectures – You had your coursework to do and there was no mandatory attendance for this.

Okay, maybe it was your fault.

The demon didn’t wait for your answer as he bullied the textbook from your hands amidst your protests. “Do you at least know the basic concepts?”

He must have really thought you were an idiot to ask this. The demon squinted at your mock exam on the table, picking it up to observe it closer. “Is it tested up till Chapter 10?”

You nod.

“Okay, we will skip the basics. Let’s go straight into Chapter 5, Fiscal Policy. Tell me what you know about this.”

Although you were flabbergasted, you still went along with his instructions. And that was how you somehow ended up studying the night away with your new “roommate”.

For the first time since taking this module, you were positive you were going to pass. You can’t believe that Pretty Boy a.k.a the scary demon was actually terrific at tutoring. He should consider a career switch – though maybe the demon part might scare people off.

Speaking of which, this entire time you had been referring to the demon as… Demon. It could be your scatterbrainedness, but it was only polite to ask for his name after he did you such a huge favour — he had tutored you into the wee hours of the night, and you barely got three hours of sleep before heading into the examination hall.

“What was your answer for question 2, part (b)?” A familiar grating voice echoed behind you. You immediately spun to see Solomon, the bane of your current evil. His lips stretched into a grin as he opened his arms wide, clearly expecting a hug from you.

With measured steps, you walked over and landed a punch on his shoulder hard.

“Ow--! What the hell, sunshine?”

Sadly, your punch did not land as hard of a hit as you would have liked but seeing the reaction elicited from Solomon granted you some satisfaction at least. You clicked your tongue loudly and grabbed him by the arm, determined to find a quiet place so that you could talk about your new ‘roommate’.

Yet, despite your resolve, Solomon still had not budged a step. He was pinning you with a stare that practically screamed is-there-a-screw-loose-in-your-head? and his free hand was now planted on his waist, reminiscent of your mother’s posture when she reprimands you.

“Sunshine, I can’t stay to chat with you today.” He started, face creasing into a pained grimace as your nails dug into the skin of his arm.

“Ow--ow! Why are you so violent!” He finally smacked your hands off, bringing his hands up to inspect the crescent-shaped wounds. “I really can’t stay today. I have an important meeting in the Devil-- Uh. Somewhere.” He sends you another wounded expression while backing away, as you brought your balled fists up threateningly again.

“Just shoot me a text. I’ll reply to you as soon as I can.” He made a quick escape, turning around with a flourish as his cape billowed behind him. You could only watch as Solomon made his grand getaway with his long legs. Well, it seemed like fate had made its choice in screwing you up for a little longer.

Begrudgingly, you trudged home.

“Human, you’re back.”

You stopped in the doorway while taking off your shoes. The demon was lounging on your sofa, feet kicked up as he flipped through the channels on your television.

“Oh.” That was all you could muster out from your shock at seeing him in the living room. Well, you hadn’t laid down any ground rules nor forbade him from exploring the apartment but it was still an unusual sight to see when coming home.

On second thought, you would rather him stay in the living room than your bedroom. He didn’t seem like the kind to rummage through your belongings but it was better to be safe than sorry.

After kicking off your shoes, you set your backpack and laptop on the kitchen island before making your way over to him. The demon flashes you a quick once-over before returning to the object of interest – the Television.

For some reason, you felt like you were intruding on his space. Although, it was rightfully your apartment. (Your bedroom was still wrecked to hell and you couldn’t bear to think about the cost of repairing it.)

“How was it?”

Amidst the indistinct pleasant buzz from the television, the demon placed the remote down to face you. You blinked in mild amusement. Was learning how to navigate human world appliances a part of the curriculum too? Even you had difficulty figuring out the controls for this.

“Ah. I think I passed.” You replied, distracted by the film playing on the television. The demon had good taste in films, playing one of your favourites on the screen.

He reached forward, snapping his fingers in front of you. You instantly took notice of the nauseating shade of neon green painted on his nails. For his sake, you hope that the fashion in Hell was vastly different because this shade was assaulting your eyes. But for all you know, he could be one of the pioneers of fashion in his realm.

“Now, let’s talk about your repayment.”

“Repayment?” You echoed, staring at him as if he had grown a third head. Since when had you owed a debt to him? All you remembered was him helping you with your exam; he couldn’t possibly be trying to claim interest from that.

He nodded.

“You summoned me, didn’t you?” He said calmly, folding his legs up to give you more space on your couch.

“I told you! I didn’t--“

“--But you did.” With his cutting remark, you curled in on yourself and pouted. You couldn’t refute him. You did summon him. Though, wholly by accident.

“Okay fine. I’ll hear you out.” With a flippant attitude, you gestured for him to go on. He raised an eyebrow before sighing.

“Usually, a sacrifice is needed for a summon.” He shot you a glare to keep you from jumping in before he was finished. “But somehow, you’ve managed to bypass that step. So all that’s left is to fulfill a transaction between you and me.”

Meekly, you raised your hand. “Uh. But I don’t need any favours from a demon.”

“Wrong.” He breathed out another sigh, as though he was speaking to an insolent child. “I’ve already completed my part of the transaction. What’s left is for you to fulfill yours.”

It dawned on you.

“Oh. You smart little--“ His lips twisted downwards into a warning sneer.

“Demon. Haha. Oh, so that is why you helped me out with my exam.” You said with your voice sugary sweet. Internally, you were stabbing metaphorical forks at yourself for accepting help from a demon so easily. You knew you were gullible but you really should have known better.

“That’s right. I’m a demon.” He scoffed, shooting a look that was so smug that you wanted to smack him. You dropped your fake smile, bringing your hands up to faceplant your forehead.

“Urgh. What’s your name?”

“I’m Satan, the Avatar of Wrath.” He said, sitting tall on the couch. Was being a demon really something to be proud of?

“Okay, Satan, Avatar of Wrath.” You started, already feeling a headache thrum in the back of your head. “I swear I don’t have anything to my possessions that you would like. Could you pretty please forget this favour and go back to where you came from? I won’t tell anyone.”

“No, can do.” Satan mocked you, folding his arms across his chest with his head tilted down at you. It was a feat considering that both of you were at eye level.

“I just need to co-habitat with you for a while. Surely, that can’t be too difficult?” You could see the demon staring at you condescendingly from the opposite side of the sofa.

Many questions ran through your head but you were too overwhelmed to even try and grapple one out.

A pause rang out. Satan for once, kept quiet even as his lips thinned out into a snarl. He looked ready to argue with you at the drop of a hat.

With the extended time given, you decided to weigh your choices in front of you.

Pro(s):

Satan had proven himself to be quite academic, if you could utilise your cards properly, you could probably rope him into being your full-time tutor while he was here.

Although it had only been one night, he wasn’t as fussy as the past roommates you had (which was already a huge plus to you.) and he seemed to keep to himself.

He was pretty nice to look at.

Con(s):

He’s a demon.

Without the fact of his heritage, you would be almost inclined to reward him with the title of the Best Roommate you ever had. (It wasn’t like there was much competition there to begin with, the people you had roomed with were demons in human bodies.)

The demon was also pretty snarky but you had met worse people in college. This was nothing you couldn’t take.

With a deep breath, you made up your mind. It wasn’t like you had much choice in this matter either way. The demon asking was just for formality’s sake — this gives you a little more confidence at least, it proves that Satan cared about politeness and most likely wouldn't murder you in your sleep.

With a nod, you extended your hand clearly meant for him to shake.

“What do you want, human?” He stares at your outreached hand, confused. You scooted over to him and grabbed his crossed arm to free one hand to link with yours. “This is a handshake. We shake hands to seal the deal.”

He dropped his gaze to the interlocked hands with a hum. After a few seconds, he pulled away and shook his hand as if getting rid of dirt.

“Great.”

As you pulled your hands away, a vague sense of unease settled within your heart. (It somehow also reminded you of the time you had been coerced to join an MLM by an old acquaintance.)

In hindsight, you probably should have asked more about the situation.

After your conversation with Satan, you had assigned him the couch in the living room as his sleeping place. Surprisingly, he was pretty happy with the arrangement, stating that at least his sleep wouldn’t be disturbed here leading you to wonder more about his bedroom in Hell.

You had then turned in for sleep.

Or well, you had tried to go into your room to sleep but there was a suspiciously familiar crevice opening up in the middle again alongside the temperature dropping to the sub-zeros.

“What the hell?” You shrieked, watching as a wisp of smoke danced around a shadowy figure – the silhouette only vaguely human. You somehow had an inkling that this matter involved the person who was currently scouring your bookshelf in the living room.

“Satan! Get your ass here!”

You hear a groan from the direction of where you had come from before hearing footsteps approach from both ends. Warily, your head turned slowly to where the gap was – it was the same as the one Satan had emerged from.

“Yo.”

Suddenly shy, your gaze flicked away from the demon before you. You certainly weren’t expecting this much-exposed skin this late in the evening.

“You sure took your time getting here.” You muttered crossly under your breath when the other demon appeared in your line of sight. Satan still looked relaxed, hands tucked into his pockets. The only show of acknowledgment was his eyebrows knitted in a frown.

“Mammon? How did you find me?” The Avatar of Wrath questioned, standing in front of you. Your vision was blocked by the sight of Satan’s shoulders as he motioned you to move back. Quietly, you slid away, not wanting to get caught up in the demons’ conversation.

“Ey. Where do you think yer’ going?” The demon, which you had now identified as Mammon, called out. With a blush still high on your cheeks, you took a quick rake at him. The small black horns that protruded at the top of his head were the least eye-catching part of him – your eyes ran over the thin white stripes over his chest and back and with the black straps around his body, you almost want to question if he came knocking at the wrong house. He looked like he belonged in the middle of a BDSM exhibition.

“Y-yes!” You squeaked, hiding behind Satan’s back which appeared to be more sturdy suddenly. Mammon had a scowl on, as he pointed accusingly at you. You were thankful that he at least had on a bolero even if it was much too extravagant for your taste. The bat-like wings behind him fluttered a little as he moved towards Satan and you.

“Satan, you bastard.” The white-haired demon hissed, as he took quick steps to end up in front of both of you. You clutched onto Satan’s arm like a lifeline, fully hiding yourself behind him. Satan sends you a glare, trying to pry your hands off but failing to do so. “Why do Lucifer gotta send me here for this, huh?”

“To bring me back?”

Mammon sneers at his remark. “What do you think, younger bro?” The blue in his eyes seemed more piercing under the light of your bedroom. You were starting to think if you should be concerned a fight was going to break out.

He let out a huff.

“Who’s that?” The demon leaned forward to peer at you, eyes rounded in morbid curiosity. Satan stretched out an arm to block him from coming too close to you. Your palms were starting to get sweaty, but you persisted in sticking to Satan’s side like a thorn.

“A human,” Satan says matter-of-factly. You almost want to punch him in the face. Even now, he’s still refusing to call you by your name. Though, you vastly prefer him calling you human rather than a lamb.

“We made a contract vow.”

When the other demon looked at you for confirmation, you nodded timidly. The white-haired demon blinked rapidly, whipping his head to look at the Avatar of Wrath in disbelief. Dimly, you noted that he also had manicured nails, white and short – was this part of the job scope to be a demon?

“Ya’ made a pact?!” He gripped Satan by the shoulder, nails digging into the meat of his shoulder. “With a human?” Somehow, you couldn’t help but feel offended by that statement. It wasn’t like you were a willing participant in this. In fact, you were pretty sure you had gotten scammed into this.

“No, a vow.” Satan corrected him, frowning. “It's like a contract. We learned that in school last semester, Mammon.” The demon sheepishly scratched the back of his head, clearly having no idea of what Satan was talking about.

It seemed like you weren't the only one who didn't listen in class.

“Grr…” The demon in front of you scrunches his face, a pained expression on his face. “Lucifer would kill me if I don’t bring ya’ back.” A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he tapped his feet impatiently.

The next line that came out of his mouth made you shudder.

“How about I eat the human?” You straightened up with a yelp. “Then there will be no vow right?”

“Don’t touch the human.” Satan’s voice has dropped an octave, and you can see the flicker of his demon form appearing. Obediently, you let go of his arm and stepped aside – in a fight between whales, the shrimp's back gets broken. You would hate to get caught up in their battle.

“Yo, relax.” Mammon scowled, flicking his hand once. He lowered his head to briefly examine your face and immediately started snickering loudly. “It was a joke, chill.”

Was he joking about your life right now? You were pissed but in the presence of two otherworldly entities, you kept your anger in check.

“I can’t go back now,” Satan says again, demon form nowhere to be found after confirming Mammon’s intentions. “It’s a binding contract.” He elaborated with a smug smile. “Lucifer can’t drag me back either unless he wants me to burn in the pits.”

What?

“Burn?” You spoke up loudly as both the demons turned to look at you with surprise as if forgetting you were there. “You didn’t tell me that before we made the vow.”

Satan just nodded in your direction.

Although you haven’t met him for long, it didn’t feel right if you got blood (ash?) on your hands for not upholding your side of the vow. Even if you had been conned into it.

“Ain’t there supposed to be a timeframe or something?” Mammon spoke, looking at you. You squirmed on the balls of your feet as you bravely held eye contact with him. You were pretty astonished that he suddenly seemed to know his stuff.

“Six months?” You offered hesitantly. Satan hadn’t specified anything earlier and you were much too tired to even think through the intricacies of the contract until now. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him give you a discontented look.

On the other hand, Mammon looked satisfied as he pulled back to wave at you.

“I’ll be back in six months then.”

Poof.

Another wisp of smoke materialised from the ground and sheathed the demon like a second skin. When you blinked again, the demon was no longer here.

The stupid bastard had stolen one of your jewellery.

After exchanging glances with Satan, you gestured for him to come into your bedroom so you could continue your talk. You had dragged the chair from your table over to your bed, only to realise that the brainless demon had swiped one of your necklaces from where it lay on the table.

“...”

You broke the silence after both of you had settled in your respective seats. “Okay, what’s the deal about burning in the pits of Hell?”

“It’s just a punishment for breaking the vow.”

“Isn’t that harsh?”

“Demons can’t die. We’ll just regenerate, though it may take me thousands of years if I sink to the bottom of the pit.”

You furrowed your eyebrow at his nonchalance. “Why did you make the vow with me?”

“I wanted to get away.” Satan paused. “I needed a fresh change of scenery.”

You still didn’t get it.

“But you didn’t have to enter into a vow, did you?”

“Drop it.” His tone had taken one that was more threatening and you could see him bristle. It seemed like it was a touchy subject.

You still weren’t satisfied with his answer but you decided to stop talking about it for today. You had gone through quite a fair bit of ordeal in the past few days and you could feel the onset of a headache.

“So… six months?” You offered.

The demon sighed, looking very much frustrated. “Since you have mentioned a time frame, the vow would have to abide by that.”

There was no room for further conversation after that. Abruptly, Satan stood up to leave the room after wishing you a good night.

“Wait.”

He peers at you confusedly as you hover near the door hesitantly with a pinched expression.

“You need to pay me back for what Mammon stole.”

You closed the door in his face.

Living with Satan felt like living with a cat that has no regard for you.

He was almost entirely self-sufficient – you could always find him sprawling out on the couch in the living room with a book. (Satan has already gone through your entire collection and was demanding you to get more.)

Living with another person took some adjustment but thankfully, Satan wasn’t as disgusting as your previous roommates. Though he had a habit of leaving his your books all over the living room. This wouldn’t be much of a bother if not for the fact that you now start your day by stubbing your toes on them.

With your new routine in place, you would like to say that you have been getting along well with Satan – although without your intervention, you were sure that the demon would be half close to death.

(“Do demons eat food?” You asked one day, curious.

It’s been a couple of weeks since Satan had shown up in your flat and in that period, you hadn’t seen the blond-haired demon take a bite of food. Maybe demons had a different type of feed compared to humans.

You dearly hope it wasn’t human meat that he would need to feed on.

“Ah.” Satan looks up at you from the couch. “Right, I need to eat.” He said, ignoring your question as he slotted a bookmark into the page of the book he was reading.

“Do you have food?”

“Are there any preferences or allergies I would need to cater to?”

“Hell Black coffee.”

You waited for an elaboration that never came. Though, you can safely assume that it was a beverage exclusive to Hell.

“You can’t survive on just black coffee, Satan.”

“Add a Devil Zebra Bacon Sandwich then.”

“Satan, we don’t have that here.” You glance around your kitchen, before striding over to your refrigerator to check on the available ingredients.

“I’ll make a bacon sandwich and some coffee for you.”

The demon nodded at you before returning to his book.

“Do demons need to eat?” You reiterated your earlier question.

“Kind of.” Satan paused, looking as though he was thinking hard about your question. “We do have to eat to be at our peak condition but we won’t die if we don’t.”

You let out a low breath and stare at Satan who had the audacity to look confused.

Even if one doesn’t die by not eating, how could he still skip all of his meals?

“Okay.” You say, “I will be making food for us every day. I am not taking no for an answer.”

“I won’t die if I don’t eat.” The demon insisted, sitting up in confusion.

You shot him a glare and Satan’s response died down.

You then started looking for the ingredients for the sandwich before Satan decided to open his mouth and tell you more about his unhealthy habits.)

You step into the living room, holding a box in your hands. You decided to be benevolent and finally gift Satan your old phone. You figured that it wouldn’t hurt for him to have a way to contact you.

“Is this a D.D.D?”

You've long gotten used to the random terminology that the demon would drop in the middle of your conversation.

“It’s a Samsung Galaxy A6.” With a deadpan voice, you dropped the box into Satan’s lap. The demon continued scrutinising the package, tilting it from side to side. “I’ve inputted my contact information inside. You can contact me if needed.”

“Thanks.” He uttered with absolutely no sense of thanks.

You were about to bicker back when a bzzt caught your attention. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you swiped on the notification as you sat on the couch beside Satan.

[03:15PM] Monnie: Just received ur text.

[03:15PM] Monnie: I’m outside right now. Please open the door.

Jumping up from your seat, you quickly opened the door not wanting to keep your classmate waiting.

“Where is he?”

For some reason, Solomon looked rigid as if he was brimming with barely contained anger. You had never seen him like this, face bland with no emotions and straightened to his full height. He looked different from your Solomon, who was always playful.

“W-who?” You stumbled over your words hurriedly, as he pushed past you and headed straight.

“Solomon?” The demon on the couch frowned, putting the secondhand phone down when he noticed the footsteps heading towards him. “What are you doing here?”

You noticed how Satan flinched at the sight of him. It seemed as if they had some sort of history together. Were they exes?

“You know him?”

“Yes, the Wise Sorcerer.”

“The Avatar of Wrath, Satan.”

You exchanged brief glances with Satan before opening your mouth in exasperation. “Okay. What’s the deal with you too?”

“I’m a sorcerer.”

You were starting to wonder if you had a penchant for attracting supernatural beings. Now everything made sense, the fact you had summoned Satan was no mere accident.

“Magic is real?”

“Very.” Solomon moved closer to stop right in front of the demon. “What did you do?” His voice was neutral, face painfully blank.

“We made a vow.” Satan scowls as he shifts in his seat awkwardly as he tilts his head in your direction. You could tell he didn’t like the accusing tone that Solomon was using. “I got summoned here by that human.”

“Summoned?” The sorcerer questioned, biting his inner cheek in thought. “Why did you respond to it?”

That was new information to you – Satan could have rejected your summon but he didn’t. For some reason, the possibility of not meeting him made you bitter.

The demon lets out a measured breath as he shrugs, not sparing you a glance. “I was bored.”

“The Devildom had called for an emergency meeting a while back.” Solomon continues, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling. “Mammon said that you were cozying up with a human. I didn’t think it was true.”

You observed the demon’s expression carefully, trying to read his thoughts – you want to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling right now.

“What about it?” Satan’s voice was far too even for your liking, face schooled into a placid smile.

“You made a vow, didn’t you?” Solomon’s lips were starting to curl up threateningly. Once again, it seemed like a fight was going to break out. You wonder if you should start leaving the room.

“You do know that MC here doesn’t have any magic right?”

Satan nods.

“What if MC gets injured? Will you take responsibility?”

“Hey--“ You tried to jump into the conversation, but none of them were paying you any attention, too focused on staring each other down.

“I will.”

“Hey-- Ay, what?”

“I’ll leave Sunshine in your hands then.” With widened eyes and raised eyebrows, Solomon takes a step back, patting you on the shoulder as he brushes past you to make a beeline to the kitchen.

“I haven’t eaten all day in a rush to get here, can I whip up something?”

In a feat to not let the sorcerer destroy your kitchen, all thoughts about the earlier conversation flew out of your head as you ran ahead of him to block his entry.

Teaching a demon how to act human was no easy feat.

“I want a Shadow Hog Stir Fry in Demi-glace Sauce.”

The waitress stares at him, pen hovering above her notepad. You forced out a laugh, leaning over to hit Satan on the shoulder teasingly.

“He’s just joking.” You crinkle your eyes up, desperately wishing that the waitress didn’t think of you both as weirdos. At least, you hope that the waitress doesn’t group both of you together – this was one of your favourite dining places, and you would hate to get banned.

Satan narrowed his eyes into slits and was just about to open his mouth to argue. You quickly kicked him from where you were seated across the booth. Begrudgingly, he kept his mouth shut.

“Alright.” The waitress says, not entirely convinced. “What can I get started for both of you?”

“Can I get a Devil Coke?”

“You mean cola, sir?” The waitress's voice was perfectly courteous, even if you could see a glint of chagrin in her eyes.

“Yes, that and a cup of water.” With a loud voice, you cut in quickly. You could see the demon’s bottom lip jutting out in frustration as you tried to keep up the playful act. “You’re so funny today, Sa--“

“Sully.” You end awkwardly, voice strained.

“Right, okay.” The waitress thankfully just ignores your comment, as she flips the pages of the menu and points to the top of the page. “We would recommend the Classic Demi-glace Rice for your companion here. This dish over here is our best-seller too.”

You nodded in the direction of the waitress. “Great, we’ll get both.”

After scribbling down your orders on her notepad, she collected the menu and walked off. After making sure that no one else was in the vicinity, you leaned forward and hissed at him.

“You have to remember that we are in the human world.”

“They don’t have these here? Shadow Hog Stir Fry in Demi-glace Sauce and Devil Coke are everywhere in the Devildom.”

“Well, take a look at the menu. Is it written there?”

Satan rolled his eyes, pointing at the table.

“The waitress took it away. Anyways, why am I Sully?”

“It’s not like I can introduce you as Satan, can I?” You said sarcastically. “I’m not trying to get flagged as a cultist.”

“Why not? They’re a pretty fun bunch.”

“That’s beside the point!”

Satan’s gaze flew up to the ceiling as he ignored your statement. He muttered some insults under his breath, which you pointedly turned a deaf ear to.

Thankfully, you still had time to teach him about human customs –you were determined to drill him about human etiquette before he headed back to the underworld.

A week later, Satan somehow manages to coax you into bringing him onto campus. Actually, it wasn’t far-fetched to say that he guilt-tripped you into doing so.

(“I’m bored.” He says.

You raised an eyebrow at his figure by the doorway. You have finally fixed the crack in your bedroom and thankfully, it didn’t cost as much as you thought it would. Though, you hadn’t repurchased any of the furniture that was destroyed during the summoning.

“Hi bored, what do you want?” You snarked back, back still hurting from hunching over your coursework on the ground. The materials were spread all over – you had shifted to the floor when you realised that there wasn’t enough space on your table.

“Stop talking nonsense.” He walked over, leaning over by the waist to squint at your work. “Do you need to head back to school tomorrow to submit these?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” You paused your actions and looked at him suspiciously.

“You said that you were going to teach me how to be more human, right?” He started, squatting down to shift your papers aside to make a space for him to sit.

You nodded slowly, unable to see where he was going with this.

“Bring me on a tour of your campus.”

“What?”

“It’s been hard on me,” He says, suddenly slumping his shoulders. “I haven’t been cooped up in the same place for so long since the time Lucifer kept me in the cupboard.”

You couldn’t refute his logic. Satan had indeed been confined in your quarters, not because you didn’t trust him-- Actually yeah, it was because you didn’t trust him.

You hadn’t explicitly forbade him not to go out but the demon seemed to know that you hadn’t felt comfortable enough to let him roam free. The weather had turned chilly lately which further lowered your ambitions to head out – though Satan had seemed pretty immune to the temperature.

Are demons more resistant to the cold?

Satan waits for a bit, before reaching for your sleeve to tug on it. If you stared at him long enough, you could almost swear that you could see tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.

“Please?”

Pretty green eyes stare up at you, wide and pleading. You felt your resolve weaken.)

Which was exactly how you ended up in this situation.

The towering shelves seem to extend far beyond your vision, and the grand expanse of the library is filled with countless volumes, making it a scholar’s paradise. The demon stands in front of you, gaping at the sight.

With his love for knowledge, you had purposefully kept the library as your last destination on the tour.

“Please keep the books to a maximum of five.” You told Satan, urging him to go forth and explore the space. “My student ID only allows five to be checked out at a time.”

His eyes had widened into big shiny orbs, alight with curiosity. For once, he didn’t argue back and gently walked ahead to the ornate wooden shelves to start scanning through the books. For you though, you headed over to the table heaving your bag up on the surface.

You decide to get some work done while Satan explores the winding mess of bookshelves.

Deep in your work, you barely noticed the tap on your shoulder. Only the call of your name broke the haze of concentration you were in.

“Yuki?” Your eyes widened as you tried to keep your voice down, glancing around nervously at the other library-goers.

“Oh my god, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you around!” Yuki beams at you, arms spaced out to hug you.

“Yeah, we haven’t seen each other since last semester.”

“How have you been doing?”

Both of you continued to exchange polite pleasantries for a bit, as you pulled out the chair beside you for her to sit down.

“Oh right,” Yuki began, pulling out her phone from her purse. “There’s a party I’m organising coming up soon. Do you wanna come? I invited people from our class last semester.”

You hummed for a second.

It’s been a long while since you went to a party, and even longer since you entertained the thought of drinking. It hadn’t even occurred to you, especially after housing Satan who had occupied all of your time and thoughts.

“Sure, just text me the date when it’s confirmed.” You responded, typing in your contact information when she handed her phone over. It should be fine to leave the demon alone for one night – it wasn’t like he had much of a penchant for mischief.

A voice from behind called, “Which five should I check out?”

Both Yuki and you turn to look at the demon, carrying a stack of books so high that you were worried he was going to topple them on you. Your eyes widened as you quickly stood up to grab a couple of books from him, clearing up his vision.

“Uh.” You had almost forgotten about the third presence with you, too busy trying to direct Satan in the right direction of the table. “Is this, uh, your boyfriend?”

Awkwardly, your hands hover in the air as you reach for another book from the Avatar of Wrath’s arm. “No, uh, we’re roommates.”

Satan nods behind you. “Pleased to meet you. My name is Sa--“

You elbowed him in the stomach, plastering a smile on your face.

“Sully.”

Yuki laughs somewhat stiltedly, lifting a hand to cover her mouth. “I’m Yuki, It is a pleasure to meet you as well.”

Her eyes darted between the demon and you, before widening into a grin again. “Sully, do you want to come along to the party as well?”

You jerked your head to look at her with blown-out pupils. Well, this wasn’t the direction that you had expected the conversation to take. Curiously, you turn to look at Satan. You wonder what would be his response.

“Party?” Satan sounded out the syllabus in his mouth, arching an eyebrow. “Probably not, I have to get through these books as soon as possible.”

He points at the intimidating stack piled up on the table.

“However, thank you for the invite.” He tilts his head down slightly, thanking her.

Now, you were the one who raised an eyebrow. Since when had he learned how to be so polite? He always acted like a minx with you.

“Well, alright then. If you change your mind, you could always just tag along.” Yuki glances at her wrist for the time, letting out a small gasp. “Oh, I’ll have to get going first. See you around.”

She stood up, tugging up her bag onto her shoulder as she waved you goodbye with a smile. Satan and you watched as she walked off.

“Lovely seeing her.” You say.

“Help me choose now,” Satan demanded at the same time.

“Geez.” You muttered, “Where did that polite facade of yours disappear to?”

“Stop talking and start choosing.”

“Fine.”

A couple of days later, you decided to bring Satan on an outing around your neighbourhood. It was odd how the conversation from that day stayed in your head like a plague, and when you had seen him sprawling on the couch, you decided to put your plan into action.

“Get ready.”

“Can’t you see I’m reading?”

“I’m bringing you on a tour around the block.” You paused, shaking the bag you were holding in front of his face. “It’s also my turn to feed neighbourhood cats this week.”

You threw the scarf you had dug out from the back of your closet at him. Even if he was less affected by the cold, you still wanted him to be prepared against the weather. (You also wanted to see how he would look like all bundled up in winter wear.)

Suddenly, a hand clamped on your shoulder hard while you were lost in thoughts.

“You should have started with that.”

Next, you know, Satan was ready by the door, impatiently pawing at your security system trying his best to unlock it. It’s been a couple of weeks since he had intruded into your house per se, but he still hadn’t gotten a hang of the electronic door system you had.

It was adorable watching him fumble around since he was always prim and proper. Well, it seemed like you still were learning new things about the demon every day.

“I didn’t know you liked cats this much.”

Amusedly, you handed the can of wet cat food to the blond – who was currently cooing at the tabby cat as it rubbed against his leg. It was admittedly, a cute sight to witness and an unexpected twist from what you would expect from a demon like him.

Would this be what they call gap moe?

“Of course I do.” Satan peers up at you confusedly, face practically screaming with incredulousness. “Cats are an integral part of life, one can never miss out on the joy of running their fingers through a cat’s fur.”

His eyes gleamed with a fiery passion as he continued ranting away. Sighing, you decided to also squat on the ground, grabbing the tabby’s attention as you dumped the wet cat food out on the plate while listening to the demon’s tirade.

“Do they have cats in the Devildom too?”

“Of course they do, human.” Fondly, you watched as his fingers found their place underneath the cat’s chin. His nose had also turned a bright shade of red, resembling Rudolph. “I’ll bring you to the Devildom on a trip to see them in the future.”

Your heartbeat quickens and a warm feeling settles in the middle of your chest.

“O-oh?” You say.

“Yeah, you can consider this a repayment for letting me lay eyes on the most magnificent creatures in the three realms.”

There’s a moment of pause as you register his comment, somehow swallowing past the lump in the back of your throat. You lowered your gaze to the concrete ground, hands absentmindedly going through the motions through the cat’s fur.

So that’s what he meant.

Before you could get too over in your head, you decided to stand up, ready to move on to the next feeding location, missing the way Satan had looked at you.

“Sully?”

“Oh, I didn’t expect to meet you so soon again.”

You turned your head to the side, the bag of cat food left abandoned on the ground as you inspected the situation in front of you. Satan had also gotten up, giving the tabby one last pet, before he turned to the stranger.

“Ah, this is my roommate.”

Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed the demon nudging you to pay attention to the conversation. Bizarrely, he was still warm to the touch despite the red shade of his nose. You quickly put on a polite smile and introduced yourself.

“Ah, I’m Luna.”

The girl in front of you was petite, with hair that was spun gold and the brightest smile you had ever seen in your life. You ended up speechless for a second, looking at the outreached hand.

Satan elbowed you again.

“Hi, yes.” You started after regaining your composure, reaching out to shake her hand. “Oh, I didn’t know Sully over here, had friends.”

It was a miracle that your voice came out all steady.

Luna raises a delicate hand to titter, eyes crinkled. You couldn’t help but find her adorable, even as something anxious sat in the pit of your stomach, the organ seemingly all twisted wrong.

“Oh, I met her at the library,” Satan says. For some reason, he paused to look at you before adding on. “She’s working at the library as a librarian. I enlisted her help to find some titles.”

The girl nods rapidly, somehow seeming to emit a brighter glow the longer you watch her.

“Are you guys feeding the cats?”

“Ah yes, my roommate is also bringing me on a tour around the neighbourhood since I’m new.”

You nod along, pressing the palms of your hand along your thigh to get rid of the sweat forming there. You couldn't understand why you were sweating despite the cold. “Do you want to come along?”

The demon turned his gaze to look at you, covering his mouth with a hand to mime coughing as he hiss a what-the-hell to you. Bewildered, you just tilted your head in response.

Wouldn’t this be a good opportunity for Satan to make friends? You thought he would approve seeing as how he was complaining about being “cooped up” in his words.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to disturb you guys.”

“Ah yes, it’s fine!” You urged, grabbing onto her arm, and tugging her to walk ahead. Satan reluctantly picked up the bag of wet cat food and trailed after both of you.

“Why did you invite her?”

The door to your apartment hadn’t even been fully opened when the demon sprung the question on you. You continued walking in, taking off your shoes in the hallway as you stayed silent. Satan barged past you to stand in front of you, forcing you to look up at him.

It’s been a while since you had found the demon intimidating and the way he was looking at you now somehow reminded you of your first meeting with him, though it was now more of a fond memory.

“I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to make new friends.” You brushed past him, heading to put the empty bag and the takeaway containers on the kitchen island. “I didn’t know you would take offense to it.”

You could hear footsteps echoing behind you, following in your path.

“Take your shoes off. I just mopped it in the morning.”

“I didn’t want her to come along.”

The container of fried rice drops on the surface with a thud, thankfully not spilling open. You would hate to clean the mess up when you are covered in cat fur and tired from socialising.

Did you not like her? Is she not pretty enough? Why do you not like her? Why are you telling me this?

Multiple questions swarmed in your head but none made it out of your mouth.

“I see.” You say, not knowing what else to reply.

Satan huffed a sigh out, taking out his shoes and placing them in the cabinet next to your door. The silence in the air felt long and stretched out. The only thing you could hear in the apartment was your own beating heart, which was pounding at a hundred miles per second. You had never felt uncomfortable in the presence of the demon before this. You hated it.

“Human, are you not going to ask me about it?” The demon demanded, wrestling the takeaway containers from you and grabbing the utensils from the drawers.

“Do you want me to?” You countered. You don't know why he was acting like this.

“Fine, so be it.” Satan runs a hand through his hair, slamming the container down on the table. You almost winced for the fate of your dinner.

"Continue to act like that.” He says, spinning around to leave the kitchen. Immediately, you regretted the words that came out of your mouth.

“Wait, no.” Your hands instinctively found their place around the edge of Satan's shirt. You twiddled your thumb around the fabric, blinking back your embarrassment. Your head hung low as you avoided his eyes, biting your lips nervously. “I’m sorry.”

You could feel the demon slowly turn around, but you stubbornly kept your gaze on the kitchen floor. You hadn’t fought with him before, the uneasiness of the situation making your insides squirm.

“I’m sorry for inviting her without asking you.”

“You-” Satan’s voice sounded pinched in discomfort. He lets out another deep exhale, hands gently placed on your shoulder.

“You don’t need to apologise. I should have been the one to say sorry.”

“No. I should have checked if you were okay with me inviting her.”

The demon just nods, placing a hand on the top of your head to mimic a pat. Somehow, you found the motion soothing and gained a deeper understanding of a cat's psyche.

Satan then turns back to the island to retrieve the containers again –you had gotten takeaway from a nearby Chinese restaurant because the demon had been craving for it.

“Okay, since both of us are certain that we are at fault. Let’s just forgive each other and move on?”

You head over to the living room first, settling down on the floor as Satan follows closely behind, holding the day’s dinner in his arms. Eating together had become an established norm in your apartment – you hadn’t noticed when both of you had become so close, so domestic, so soft.

You made a conscious effort to not think about the earlier conversation but it still weighed heavily on your mind.

What does it mean? Why does he want you to ask about it?

“Satan.” You set the bowl of cereal in front of him and then put yours beside his. “I’m heading out for the party later at night. I will be back late.”

He pours milk into your bowl and slides it across the table to you. “Don't you have class today?"

"Yeah until 6, but I'll be back for dinner before heading out for the party."

"Oh, is it the one your classmate invited you to?”

“Yes, wanna come along?”

“Not today. I’m aiming to finish this." He points to the book lying on the couch. "Also, I'm trying out this new recipe I read in this book for dinner.”

You squint at the book on top of the throw pillow, Satan’s favourite, with a picture of a kitten – it was worn out from use, an evident reminder of how the demon had integrated into your life so smoothly.

“Remind me to get a new pillow soon.”

“Sure. Be safe tonight.”

You were almost positive the cereal had gone down the wrong pipe. For a second, you wondered if you were starting to make things up. The demon pushes the cup of water to you, urging you to drink it. It was nearly comical how affected you were by a simple phrase.

“Thanks.”

Satan continues to nurse his cup of coffee. It was truly amazing how he could stand the taste of it. You had tried it once out of curiosity and almost spat it out due to how bitter it was.

(��Why would you do this to yourself?” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand after washing out your mouth with mouthwash.

Satan shrugged.

“It reminds me of Hell’s Coffee back in my realm,” He explains, taking a sip from the same coffee that you had tried. “The coffee would become bitter if the brewer has feelings for the one they are brewing for. It also changes depending on the magic content.”

“That’s interesting.” You say. “So is your coffee always bitter then?”

He smiles at you, swirling the liquid in the cup thoughtfully. “Sometimes. Though, I’ve never had anyone who tried my coffee say it’s bitter.”

That was… fascinating. You would have expected Satan to, maybe, have more experience.

“Oh.” You muster, still thinking about the implications of his statement.

“When you come to the Devildom, I’ll let you try my version of it.” The demon says before finishing the rest of his drink in one shot, face scrunching up at the acidity of it.

“Okay.” You say, nodding. “Okay, sure.”

Your face was heating up for some reason, and you felt like your brain had been dipped into a bathtub with the toaster plugged in.

You wonder if the coffee he makes for you would be bitter.)

You arrived at the party at midnight and amazingly, your host was already knocked out on the couch.

“Yuki.” You shook her once, only getting murmuring as a reply. It was obvious that she had ascended into the astral plane. You were planning to count on her to take care of you but that plan flew out of the window.

You straightened up, speaking to no one in particular. “What the hell? I’ve only just gotten here.”

“Unfortunate.” Someone says sympathetically beside you. You recognise her as one of your classmates from your previous semester, “Go and get yourself started with a drink from the kitchen.”

You winced.

“It’s still early.”

“It’s literally past midnight.” She says, staring at you with a deadpan expression. “That’s what you came here for right? To drink?”

You look in dismay as your classmate shoves you in the direction of the kitchen. Though, she was right. You had indeed come here intending to drink as much as you can.

The demon had been occupying your head as of late, and you were starting to get desperate for an excuse to get out of the house to clear your head.

She pushes a red solo cup into your hand, urging you to take it. “Here you go. Cheers.”

With your safety plan out of commission, you were determined to only drink enough to get tipsy. After all, you were at a college party. Though, you still needed to find a way to hitch a ride home after.

You would hate to worry Satan if you stayed at the house overnight, though you question if he would even expend the energy to be concerned for you. (You think he would, but you can't be sure.)

Your classmate hands another cup of jungle juice to you. You could already feel the buzz of the alcohol in your bloodstream. The concoction was stronger than expected.

“I can’t drink anymore.” You insist. “I don’t want to get too drunk.”

“Just get one of the sober monitors on duty to drive you back.” She pats you on the shoulder, pointing somewhere in the room. You barely register the touch, hanging onto her arm.

“Joshua!” She shouts, your ears ringing from the volume. The bass of the music was deep, drowning out her voice. Thankfully, the man in question turns to you. His facial features were oddly familiar but you couldn’t put a finger to it.

“Oh? It’s been a while.” Joshua smiles at you. You noted vaguely that he was holding a cup of water instead of the red solo cup filled with jungle juice. “We were in the same group last semester, weren’t we?”

Somehow, you were already on your third cup, and you could feel yourself swaying from the alcohol. You hadn’t even realise that your other classmate had already left to mingle around with the rest of the party-goers.

“Yes.” You weren’t sure about it, but it seemed plausible.

“Do you need me to drive you home?”

“Yes.” You said again, sounding very much like a broken record. “Please.”

“No worries.” He laughs again, ducking his head low to talk to you over the music. “Do you want to go now?”

You shake your head. You clearly weren’t drunk enough if thoughts about the blond-haired demon were still rattling around in your head. You hadn’t even noticed yourself metamorphosing his features into the guy before you.

“You sure?”

You nod again, brushing off his concerns. The alcohol seemed to only amplify your emotions about the demon. You needed to get some fresh air to think. Vaguely, you remember seeing a backyard as you came in.

On your way out, you threw away the rest of your drink before toddling off into the direction of the backyard. You were surprised to find out that you were the only occupant so far – the trees were finally in bloom after the long cold days and you could feel a mild breeze on your skin.

The night air punctuates the day and you inhale, your lungs filling with fresh air as you take your phone out of your pocket, noticing a notification on the screen.

[02:42AM] You have one missed call from Satan

The steady thrum of the music couldn’t drown out the sound of your heartbeat suddenly quickening. The cool air was a god-given gift against your flushed skin as you hovered over the call button.

The phone rang once, twice and then a voice answered.

“Human?”

You kept silent. (You wonder after all these months, were you still just a human to him?)

“Hello? Are you okay?”

“Um yes.”

“Why did you call me? I thought you were at the party?”

You hesitated, looking at your phone again to check that you hadn’t seen it wrong. You have been standing out in the backyard for a while and have sobered up considerably.

“Weren’t you the one who called me?”

“Ah right, I forgot you were out tonight. I was worried that you were out so late.”

“Worried?” You breathed out, fingers suddenly trembling. The temperature outside wasn’t even cold enough to warrant an outerwear, but you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking.

“Yeah.”

All you could hear was his breathing on the other side of the call.

“Can you pick me up?” You blurted out suddenly. “No, I mean. Never min-” You cut yourself off in a panic, crouching to let your head hang between your knees.

This was out of character for you. He must think you were insane, suddenly putting in a request to pick him up. None of the buses or trains were running at this time. The only way possible was if he teleported. You don’t even know if he even had the ability to teleport, let alone even use it to come and find you.

“Just ignore what I sai–”

“I’m here, " the voice echoed in front of you. You refused to lift your head to check your surroundings, refusing to let yourself be disappointed. Your grip on your phone grew tighter, and you vaguely sensed that your stomach was churning.

The shadow cast in front of you suddenly shifts and you recognise the hands gently tugging your phone down.

“I’m here.” He repeats again, tapping on the screen to hang up the call from your phone. You still had your head hung low, staring at the haphazardly worn shoes. It was a mismatched pair of a matching set you had bought on sale – the cat pair had been given to the demon, while you had the matching duck set. You had never worn yours out, leaving it near your cabinet but Satan had utilised his well.

He had worn one side of the cat slipper, and the duck slipper, which were a size too small.

You let out a laugh, your chest heaving up and down. Once, twice, and then you broke out into a full fit of giggles. Your breath quickened, each inhale sharp and shallow. Clutching at your abdomen, you forced yourself to breathe.

“Human.”

“Y-you can teleport?” Your voice came out squeaky, high-pitched as if the air had been knocked out of your windpipes. “Why did you come?”

The demon tilts his head, leaning in close with squinted eyes. “Are you drunk?” He lifts a hand to touch your forehead, hand cool against yours.

“You’re red.” He remarked.

You stiffly nod. The cold wind had helped your heated skin to calm down but it was of no use against Satan. You could feel the full force of the blush burning high on your cheekbones.

“You’re a lightweight.”

“I drank,” Your mind was telling you to lean into the demon’s touch but you staunchly made yourself lean away instead. “I think four cups.”

“Only four?”

“You think you can do better?” You scoffed, inhibitions low enough for you to start running your mouth. “You have noodle arms, you’ll probably pass out after the first cup.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“I’m just saying.”

“You’re on.”

The demon stands up, dusting off his pants and grabbing your hand to drag you into the house. “This way?” You stumble along, your eyes locking on the way his hand fits in yours. He leads you to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of jungle juice – he didn’t let go of your hand, making what was originally a one-person job into two.

He hands you a cup, raising an eyebrow.

“Cheers.”

You muttered similarly, before throwing back the drink with a wince. You’ve never liked the taste of alcohol much, the liquid tasting like medicine and sliding down hot to your stomach. You hadn’t even realised you had squeezed your eyes shut.

“This is nothing,” Satan remarked, barking out a sharp laugh. “You get drunk off this? You’re so cute.” He laughs again, but you can see him sway, holding onto the edge of the counter to maintain his balance.

“That’s…” He trails off, blinking a few times at you. You didn’t know whether to be worried that the person you had called to pick you up was now drunk or find it amusing that he got drunk off one cup of alcohol.

“Bitter.” He finishes with a scrunched-up face.

You burst out into laughter, bending over at the waist to gasp for air. You tried to let go of his hand so that you could clutch at your abdomen but Satan refused, tightening his grip to the point where it was mildly painful.

“Are you actually drunk?” You ask, stifling your laughter with much effort. You couldn’t believe he was this much of a lightweight.

“I’m not, human. But no.”

He was starting to speak gibberish. This made you highly amused. You hadn’t seen Satan be this…openly vulnerable before. It was a far cry from the intimidating demon you first met in the winter.

“Human. Stop laughing.”

Satan reaches forward, presumably to grab you by the shoulder but overshot, knocking both your foreheads together – both of you tumbling to the ground under his weight, his hands flying behind your head to cushion your fall.

“Urgh, get off.” You tried to push the demon off you but he was persistent on doing his best impression of a slug, sprawling out over you and refusing to move an inch. You would normally be nervous at his close proximity if not for the fact that you are currently having difficulty breathing under his weight.

“Hey, woah–”

With as much effort as you can muster, you shifted into a better position and spotted Joshua standing in the doorway looking lost at your predicament.

“Please help.”

With his aid, you managed to fight coax Satan into the backseat of Joshua’s car. You were initially planning to sit up front with your classmate to give directions but the demon had refused to let go of your arm, forcing you to stay in the backseat with him.

(“Is he from our school?” Joshua glances briefly at the demon clinging to your arm with an mirthful smile. You can feel the embarrassment burning hot at the tip of your ear.

“Oh, he’s actually my roommate.”

“I’m a demon.” The demon beside you slurred, head knocking back into the seat. For the sake of your reputation, you sincerely prayed that he wouldn't throw up the contents in his stomach.

"Haha, he's been into roleplaying lately." You spun up a lie quickly with an awkward smile. Looking at Satan's peaceful expression, you wonder if you should give him a good smack and call it a day.)

Within minutes, you had arrived at your apartment and Joshua was already opening the car door to help you lift Satan up.

“Only want my human,” The demon’s eyes were half-lidded as he murmured under his breath, all while resisting Joshua’s help to bury his head deeper into your lap.

“You smell nice.”

As much as you wanted to read into this, you couldn’t help but be conscious of the third presence watching both of you. You dearly hope that your classmate couldn’t hear the demon’s drunk mutterings.

“Why does he, uh, call you human?”

Well, there goes your reputation.

“He’s going through his second puberty.” You lied, “Eighth grader syndrome, am I right?” You forced out another polite laugh, before jabbing your fingers into Satan’s side hard.

The demon jolts up with a bolt, covering his mouth as he winced. Joshua took this opportunity to wrestle him out of the car, taking one of his arms to throw over his shoulder as you stationed yourself on the opposite side to do the same.

“Thank you for your help.”

Both of you had managed to deposit Satan on the couch and were now catching your breath, winded from the exercise. Thankfully, the lift was working today and you didn’t need to lug the demon up the flight of stairs.

“Do you want a drink before you leave?” You offered, straightening up and determined to play your part as a good host. Although you didn't know Joshua that well, he seemed like a nice guy and you also wanted to make up for Satan's actions.

“Sur–”

“Me first, human.” A voice loudly interjected into your conversation from the sofa, “Hell’s Coke.” The demon demanded, arranging himself into an upright position. He looked clear-headed as if he hadn’t had a sip of alcohol despite how he was slumped over a minute ago.

“Uh–” Joshua started again.

“Human, I said I wanted a drink.”

You looked at Joshua apologetically, walking quickly into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water as you gently ushered him out to the hallway. Your patience was getting low and you no longer wanted him to witness any more of the demon’s tomfoolery.

“Wait!” As you prepared to close the door on him, Joshua paused to look at you expectantly – it felt as if you had withheld a toy from a puppy and they were now expecting you to play fetch. “Can I expect to see you around again?”

You paused, thinking through your answer before opening your mouth to reply–

“--No, bye.”

Satan had shut the door in his face.

“...”

The demon’s face was flushed again as he leaned against the door, one hand raised above your head. You tried to even your breathing, closing your eyes to meditate.

“Don’t you think you were being rude?”

“Was I? I’m sorry.”

His face showed no remorse, as he peered at your facial expression closely, his sea-green eyes much brighter than usual. You had the burning urge to shy away from his gaze but you insisted on keeping your grouchy expression.

“You don’t sound sorry.”

“He was trying to hit on you.”

You looked at him, trying to control your emotions that were threatening to spill over. You could feel your eyebrow twitching, and all you wanted to do now was take a long, hot bath and turn in for the night.

“He drove us home safely so the least you could do was to thank him. And why does it matter to you?” You spat out, feeling the words form awkwardly through your gritted teeth.

Satan had you backed against the door, forcing you to crane your neck just to look up at him. Your thoughts were in disarray; heart puzzled by the sudden affection from him. You wanted a clear explanation from him.

He stayed silent, brows thoughtfully knitted together.

Oh.

The silence gave you your answer. You are left with the residual realisation washing over and you are powerless in the face of it, unable to do anything but exhale deeply with a slow breath – you ducked under his arm to leave the suffocating situation.

“I think I was jealous.”

You swirled around, eyes wide. Your gaze glosses to the right, unable to meet his eyes. You thought you had heard him wrongly, but the demon stood there, looking as though he had made up his mind.

“You think?”

Had Satan, the Avatar of Wrath, just confessed to being jealous?

“No, I was jealous.” He corrected with a frown, folding his arms over his chest. “I wanted to cut open his throat for having the impudence to talk to you.”

You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry.

He took a step closer, face set in icy determination. Something about his demeanour reminded you of a predator and you were his prey, waiting to be devoured. Your ears ring a steady buzz, spiraling you into rapid confusion.

“I want my jealousy to be justified, MC.”

His words were no louder than a mere whisper but each syllabus tugged on your heartstrings as he grabbed at your forearm, pulling you in close to him. This was the first time Satan had ever addressed you by name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be happy; disoriented at the conflicting feelings within you.

“I like you so much, I don’t even know what to say.”

I’ve never felt this greedy in my life before. Was I fated to meet you? I don’t know but the only thing I know is this,” He briefly looks at the clock hanging in the living room and clears his throat, “I want you to remember this moment, at 3 AM on the 20th of April, this is the time I have utterly fallen for you.”

Satan sits on the couch, a respectful distance away. You swear you could still feel his touch on you, a lingering sensation sizzling on your bare skin. His stare bores into you, reverberating through your body from your toes to the crown of your head.

You feel seen. Even now, the demon was giving in to you – you know it must be eating him up to wait but he was letting you take things at your pace.

“I’m confused.” You admit in a small voice, trying to gauge his expression. “I can’t stop thinking about the what-ifs.”

He waits for you to continue.

“No matter what, you’re a demon and I’m a human.” The mood took a sharp left turn at your words, hanging heavy in the air. “Will there ever be a happy ending for us?”

Satan calls your name, eyes gentle as he scoots nearer to you. “You won’t know if you don’t try.”

“But what if we try and it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll kill myself and find you in my next life.” He says simply.

The comment was so sudden that you let out a huff of laughter, wiping at the corner of your eyes in disbelief.

“Do demons even believe in reincarnation?”

“We don’t but I’ll make it work.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“This is your only chance to say it now.” He stares at you with earnest eyes, grabbing your hand and holding it up to his face to nuzzle at you affectionately. “Are you willing to take the risk?”

“Okay.” You say, or at least that’s what you think you say, your voice suddenly distant over your rapid heartbeat and the room increasingly getting smaller. “Okay.” You blurted out again because up against a demon like Satan, what can one do except give their whole being?

Before you knew it, you were already climbing onto his lap, and with a gentle motion, you were kissing him – his lips part for you beautifully as you tilt your head gaining more access.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound of his steady heartbeat mixed with yours, a delightful symphony to your ears. Deliriously, you wonder if you could crawl inside and make yourself home.

Cold.

The flitting freezing temperature dragged you back to the land of the living – the abnormal heat that the demon beside you was producing was not enough to starve off the chill of the night.

“Satan.” You garbled, words slurring together as the hands around your waist pulled you in closer. “Close the damn window, it’s so cold.”

“The window is closed.”

The unfamiliar voice should have been the first sign to inform you something was wrong. Unfortunately, you were frankly too worn out from the day’s event to care. Stretching, you turn your head to nuzzle into Satan’s bare chest.

“Satan, Avatar of Wrath.”

You feel the demon beside you tense.

“Lucifer, what are you doing here?”

The call of the name rings a bell in your head. Was this the older brother that Satan had mentioned to you before? You didn't have the best impression of him, especially after what the blond-haired demon had told you.

“This situation has gone on long enough.” Honestly, you were pretty astonished that the demon standing in the middle of your room was nonchalant enough to simply avert his eyes from Satan’s half-naked form.

“How long are you planning to act like a child? You’re even dragging humans into your mess.”

Yikes.

You lifted the blanket higher, making sure to cover your entire self as you blearily blinked the sleep away from your eyes. Once your vision focused, you could vaguely make out the silhouette of the demon – he was at least more decently dressed than the last one, though you wondered about the practicality behind the number of wings.

Somehow it seemed like breaking and entering into humans’ houses were part of the Devildom curriculum because this was already the third demon to enter your house without an invitation.

“Don’t talk to me like I am a child.” The demon behind you spat out all while gently rubbing his hands over yours in a comforting action. Slowly, he lifted the blanket up to get out of bed, stretching as he did so.

“I’ll stop when you stop behaving like one.”

You winced. The tension in the room seemed to thicken and the once sub-zero temperature had disappeared giving way to the rising heat from their words. You shuffled awkwardly under the blanket – maybe if you acted like everything was normal, the other demon in the room would ignore your presence.

Wrong.

“You’re MC, correct?”

“Yes.” You squeaked out, startled by the sudden spotlight on you.

“I apologise for my younger brother’s behaviour. Thank you for tolerating him for the past six months. He will be going back with me now.”

“Wai–”

“Who says I’m going back?” Satan interrupts you, hands placed protectively in front of you. The glint in his eyes darkened and you could tell this didn’t please the older demon one bit.

“Avatar of Wrath, what do you mean by that?”

“I said what I said. I’m not going back.”

You cringed at the use of the title. Even you knew that meant serious business. The inky smooth wings behind Lucifer fanned out, expanding to their full width, a beautiful yet menacing sight. You could practically use a knife to cut the tension in the room.

Oh no.

“Wait!” You shout desperately, yelping when red piercing eyes turn to look at you. The embedded jewel in the middle of his forehead catches a glint of moonlight from the window beside him, somehow making him look even more terrifying.

“Human, do not interrupt our–”

“Do not talk to my human like that–”

“Hey, I said wait!” You panicked, making a move to get off the bed when a flash of blond hair blocked your sight, a displeased frown on Satan's face as he pulled up the blanket higher to cover you. You had completely forgotten your state of undress in your alarm to deescalate the fight.

“Don’t move just yet. I’ll settle this with him, okay?” He spat out the syllabus, before reaching down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Satan.” You start, reaching out to hold his face. The demon nods, immediately squatting and attentive to your every word. You shake him from side to side, stroking the side of his face delicately. “I think you should go back too.”

“Wha–”

He look struck by your words, dismay written all over his face as clear as day.

“No.” You cut him off firmly before he could rebut back. “You promised Mammon, remember? Half a year had already passed, meaning we both had fulfilled our part.”

Satan still looked betrayed, his eyes round and wide. His lower lip trembled slightly and it was visible that he abhorred the very idea of leaving you.

“Listen, can’t you come to find me whenever you want anyways?” You huffed again, racking your brain for another solution to convince him.

“Or I can just make Solomon summon you every time I miss you. Distance isn’t that big of an issue for us right, honey?”

You knew you had chosen the right argument when a blush sits high on his cheek. You couldn’t believe it. Does he like the nickname? You take note of the information and store it at the back of your head.

He coughs, hiding his flush behind one hand as he turns around. Standing up, he turns to face Lucifer.

Huh. The more you know, you suppose.

“Okay, I’ll go back with you.”

The other demon, understandably looks disorientated at the change of heart. He blinked once, then twice as he shifted to a more intimidating stance. “Who said that I approved of your relationship?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have counted your chicken before it hatched. And was it just you? You get the feeling the demon named Lucifer seemed to be very overprotective over his siblings, somewhat like a mother hen. Or maybe this was a Devildom custom, demons needing their older siblings to approve of their relationship. However, with what you have witnessed so far, you get the idea that he was just the demon version of an overbearing tiger mum.

Before you could speak, a voice cut in. You couldn’t help but admire how the muscles on his back flexed as he spoke, “Isn't Lord Diavolo planning a human exchange program in the near future?"

Your demon cleared his throat before continuing, "I believe Lord Diavolo would be happy to find out that I am furthering relations with a human, or would you want to take this away from him?”

The red-eyed demon stays silent, his wings fluttering in agitation. For a long second, you held your breath waiting for a retort that never came.

“Fine,” Lucifer said, tone resembling that of a grumble. Though, you could tell that even he knew he had lost the battle of words. “I’ll report this back to Lord Diavolo first.”

“Though, I expect you to be back in the Devildom by sunrise. You have missed out far too much at RAD and I need you to be able to catch up with all of the work within a week.”

“Understood.”

Satan just nods. Your mouth hangs open, unhinged at the jaw. It was an unreasonable request that the older demon had put in but you couldn't bring yourself to feel too bad for your boyfriend (?) since it was a situation that he had created in the first place.

You couldn’t believe that worked.

Honestly, you were almost certain that a fight would have broken out. But somehow one way or another, your apartment lives to see another day.

Satan sits beside you on the bed, tugging you in for a hug. Tilting your head, you place a chaste kiss on his lip which the demon tries to further deepen. With a chuckle, you pull away, watching in delight as he chases after you.

After the whole fiasco, you only had one question on your mind.

“Are we together?” You ask, feeling your face go hot. Even if both of you had confessed your feelings earlier and you were fairly sure that both of you were on the same page, you still wanted verbal confirmation from him.

Satan interlocks your hands with him, humming playfully. You could feel his smile against your neck, as he nuzzled affectionately at you. “I’ll be yours if you will be mine.”

You wiggle away with a pout when he nibbles at the crook of your neck. Though you soon broke out into a smile, unable to stay mad at him for long.

“Guess we should get Solomon a gift for letting us meet, huh?”

“Probably.”

“And you’d still be failing Economics if I hadn’t tutored you.”

“Probably.”

"You know I'm surprised my landlord never found out I was housing another person here."

"Oh."

"Wait a minute, that 'oh' sounded suspicious."

"I didn't do anything bad, just that I may have made him think that the apartment was originally for two people."

"Satan!"

Maybe in some alternate reality out there, you would have been the human exchange student sent to the Devildom for cultural exchange. Or maybe in another reality, you may never even get the chance to meet him, after all, demons are as rare as a sunflower in a desert. But no matter what, you had him in your arms right now and that was all that mattered.

You guess one of the perks of being bad at Economics was getting to meet and fall in love with Satan, as sappy as that sounded. Which reminded you...

“Honey, I have my final exam coming up soon. Would you still tutor me?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I have much of a choice if I don’t want you to fail, love.”

a/n ▸ yippee! i wrote this piece over the expanse of a month and I am glad to finish this lol. i still have a lot of scenes that didn't make it to the main story but will be posting as a side story hehe, I hope you guys love this story as much as I did <3

#happy birthday satan!#satangwrites: the horrors of economics #satangwrites #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me swd #shall we date om #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me satan #satan #obey me satan x you #satan x you #satan x reader

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