DRIVE THE NIGHT ★ F1 SERIES

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 (𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠) 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 II 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄  II 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 II 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 II 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 II 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 II 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗  II 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 II 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 II 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 (ongoing) 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 II 𝐎𝐍𝐄 II 𝐓𝐖𝐎 II  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 II 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 II 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 II 𝐒𝐈𝐗

𝐈 𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐄’𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 (short series) 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐑Ï𝐊'𝐒 II 𝐎𝐍𝐄 II 𝐓𝐖𝐎 II 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 II 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝑷𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑶𝑪'𝑺, ʜᴇʀᴇ

wrong time | jjk

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader

⏤ genre: parent au, exes to lovers, ceo au, angst, fluff, and smut

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ warnings: dilf!jungkook, tattooed!jungkook, swearing, mention of breakup, mention of jk being a fuckboy, broken hearts, nervousness, communication issues, mention of going through a dark period, oc wasn’t really nice, mention of sickness, mention of the hard side of parenthood, jk and oc are workalcoholics, the closure conversation, mention of sex, mention of death, mention of grief, mention of cheating,  sexual tension, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, nipple play, pet names, penetrative sex, protected sex, rough sex, and creampie

⏤ words: 13,986

⏤ summary: meeting ten years later the girl he deeply fell in love with is something Jungkook never thought would happen. But here you are, standing before his eyes with a bright smile on your face as you walk through the massive lobby of his company. At that exact moment, he realizes that the two of you fell in love at the wrong time but is now the right time?  

⏤ author’s note: wrong time is finally all yours! i actually can’t believe it’s finally posted after almost a year of work! but it also makes me incredibly happy to release it. the past year has been a crazy year and this fic is a reflection of all that. most of the things mentioned in the fic are things that i experienced so this makes wrong time even more special to my heart 💞 i really want to thank my nikki @xpeachesncream​ for her support, i know i couldn’t have done it without her! 💞 enjoy the fic & let me know what you thought of it!💞 

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ao nykē perzōñi iksi masterlist

you and I are made of fire

Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: A tourney at Winterfell will change your life forever...

Warnings: canon-typical stuff, messing with the original timeline

• chapter 1 • ñuha dāria • my queen • summary: a dragon meets his match

• chapter 2 • ñuha prūmia • my heart • summary: celebrations after the tourney

• chapter 3 • ñuha ābrazȳrys • my wife • summary: you are presented to the court

• chapter 4 • ñuha dārilaros • my prince/my princess • summary: another celebration, another wedding

• chapter 5 • ñuha zaldrītsos • my little dragon • summary: you prove that you have more than enough fire in you

• chapter 6 • ñuha dārys • my king summary: a new king is crowned

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞

"we have never heard the devil's side of the story, seeing as god wrote the book"

warnings: explicit language, drinking, motorsport accidents, mentions of sex, mentions of death, mature themes

graphic by @schuvries 🫶🏻

chapter zero

edits

playlist

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen

chapter fourteen

chapter fifteen

chapter sixteen

chapter seventeen

chapter eighteen

The Coldest Truth | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

part 1 of the odd comfort series II III

summary: being born into a mafia family wasn’t your ideal path in life. thomas shelby wants you as his wife and he will get just that

pairing: modern day! thomas shelby x fem! reader

words: 3.1k

a/n: tommy is NOT canon. i altered his character to my liking for the story, though he’s pretty much the same just more sarcastic and flirty

‘Is there anyone you like?’ Your sister Chelsea stared at the ceiling, a tense atmosphere that had built up in her room over the course of an hour.

Whilst your family was upstairs being social, making deals, or establishing new connections within the community, your sister and you needed some alone time. Every once in a while you hide your precious trophies, don’t you?

‘There’s this guy Lorenzo,’ you rolled onto your stomach as you thought about him. Your cheeks glowed a pale red just thinking about his golden locks that illuminated in the sunlight. His honey-brown eyes set with a pair of long dark lashes. ‘He’s so handsome and well-mannered,’

‘He’s not English.’ Chelsea said, her eyes moving to you. ‘Father would never allow it.’

‘I know.’ You sighed, your head falling face down into the blanket.

You, the Eyrie family, were English through and through. It was better for business and people knew where their loyalties lay in case of wars breaking out. Going after an Italian man would be a suicide mission and a death sentence for him too. Organised crime families were not much different from the royal families around the world. Royals wed royals, gang members wed gang members. Both marrying for alliances, not for love.

Some high-ranking families were invited over this evening, hence why the disco music blasted through the house walls, vibrating to the heavy bass. Your father never involved you or your sister in his business keeping is strictly ‘men only’ which you were actually glad about; Sitting and talking for hours about weapons or drug exchanges, the fright that people are out to kill you at all times? No thank you (though people still wanted to kill you for being Y/n Eyrie).

The hot pink bodycon dress you decided to wear tonight made your breasts and ass look good, a favourite of yours. Your grandmother liked to disagree, blaming it on her daughter for the way you turned out. Both of them were upstairs too. They had a slightly more important role in the family and were actually allowed to get information to ease their minds about their wellbeing.

‘I’m going back upstairs.’ You muttered more to yourself than Chelsea and pushed your body off the bed, slipping your heels back on and walking downstairs, the music in your ears compelling you to dance.

Squeezing past a making out couple and a few drunk people you made it into the living room. The blue glimmering light of the outside pool illuminated the room, different coloured lights also catching your eye. But something else caught your eye. A man with dark hair stood by the railing. A cigarette pressed between his plump lips, a glass filled with some liquid in his other. His figure wrapped in a black suit that seemed tailored, arrogance dripping off of him. The way he stood told you that he had a lot of confidence in himself. He must’ve noticed someone staring at him because his eyes scanned his surroundings until they landed upon you. That’s when you realised who he was.

Your chest tightened, your pulse racing against your skin as you stared into those dangerous blue eyes. Blue eyes that did not feel warm or safe but cold as ice, distant as the sea, and so so full of greed. He had a lot of nerve showing up at an Eyrie’s doorstep, or in this case back garden.

You locked eyes with him just for a second. Your feet carried you away and brought you to the other part of the garden. Multiple tables lined the green lawned grass as you brushed past waiters carrying various cocktails. Your father was sitting at the very back. Cigar in his mouth as you neared the table and saw that he was sitting with his business partners, Jack and Ian. The two guards that stood in front of the fenced garden took a step towards each other, blocking your way when they saw you approach.

‘Move.’ You demanded. But they did not move. They didn’t bat an eye, it was like you didn’t exist.

You were about to speak again but were interrupted by your father.

‘Let her pass.’

And like Moses spoke himself, staff in his hand, they parted; letting you enter.

Rolling your eyes you walked straight past them and stood in front of them, rolling a casual hello to both Jack and Ian before setting eyes upon the boss.

‘Either we’ve been breached or you’re out of your mind.’

‘Darling, don’t take that tone with me.’ His cigar bobs up and down, his belly rising in the three piece suit he wore that cost more than most family’s income per year.

‘I’m sorry, Father but how could I not?’

He stared at you. Waiting for the very thing that would’ve made you put up a fight with the guards, that made you disrespect him in front of his trustees.

‘Why the flipping hell,’ you lowered your town and braced yourself on the table, closing in on them to make sure no one else heard what you were about to say, ‘is there a Shelby in our house?’

This must’ve been news to your father too because he stood up faster than he normally was able to and immediately hurried past the guards, Jack and Ian following him as they made their way towards the house.

Your father’s hand slipped in his gun carrier that sat on the back of his trousers and pulled out his .4, hand disappearing once more to grab the silencer and placing it over the barrel.

Heavy tension was felt when you walked past the people that were enjoying themselves for the night. The air felt too thick to inhale as you hurried behind them. The crowd of people parted smoothly down the middle, more smoother than the guards did just moments ago.

When their footsteps did come to a stop eventually, Thomas Shelby still standing at the railing, his drink now empty, his finger playing with a lighter, a small but visible smirk as he eyed everyone close to him.

He stared at your father momentarily before his eyes moved past him and instead burned into yours. A deep impenetrable connection that was only broken when you could feel the cold metal of Jack’s gun brush past you.

‘You told on me.’ He pulled down his bottom lip, his hand moving over his jaw. Bastard. ‘And here I thought I could just enjoy a simple party; drinking good whiskey, smoking until my lungs are full and maybe take you somewhere private.’ He pointed his glass at you.

A deep wave of hatred engulfed your body as you drilled holes into him. Pure disgust was dripping down off you, hidden as sweat pearls. But his eyes were full of lust and power, and they only stared at you.

Why was he here? What could’ve possibly led him to join a get together full of people that all hated him for the blithering idiot he was? The last time a Shelby and an Eyrie stood in the same room it ended in bloodshed. Who got to control Camden Town? Who got to have more men stationed in other parts of the city? Etc. In the end it didn’t matter who died in the breakout because some jewish mafia boss named, Alfie Solomons, took over every inch of Camden. It was all for nothing…men and their cocks. Whilst they got at each other’s throats, you had the pleasure (not a pleasure) of meeting Grace Burgess. Part of Thomas’ team. Well not even that, she was just his whore he’d like to call around whenever he needed her. Everyone knew her for what she was and what she did, but she was so oblivious to these facts and genuinely thought that Thomas loved the poor girl. Thomas didn’t love. That’s what he told you anyway when you sat in his living room the day the fiasco in Camden Town went down. Thomas Shelby was a charmer; a freaking good one too. You knew him for what he was yet that day something weird slithered within you. And it disgusted you that that specific day you felt anything but pure hatred for him. You didn’t know how he did it, all that it repulsed you.

Your father pulled his gun on Thomas and in a matter of seconds several guns were in the air, clicks of the weapons filling in the silence that the DJ killed minutes ago. Thomas Shelby however did not lower his hand to his gun, he simply waved over one of the waiters and grabbed another whiskey. His plump lips wrapped around the edge of the glass—my god, Y/n! Stop it!

He was your infatuation. No matter how much you hated him, you couldn’t deny his insane attractiveness. His icy blue eyes that felt just as cold, pink lips his tongue glided over when he was amused. Broad shoulders, defined chest that you could make out under the white button shirt.

You always knew you were special eye candy for men amongst your social crime class. You were a means to an end. Men swooned over you, your eyes that sparkled with innocence yet dominance, your body that was too good to be true. In a world where darkness crept from every corner and danger only one step away, in a world not meant for you, you wanted everything you couldn’t have. Love.

‘Gilbert…I can call you that right?’ Mr. Shelby raised a sarcastic eyebrow at your father, his feet strolling around the terrace. ‘We’re close friends, are we not?’

‘What do you want, Thomas.’ Your father grit through his teeth, not loosening his grip on the gun he pulled out, having every intention of killing him but holding back to get the information out of Thomas that he was teasing him with.

‘It’s no secret that we’re the most powerful families in England, United Kingdom.’ He corrected himself. He stepped closer to you and your father, but the distance was still great. If he got to close there was no way of telling if Thomas’ neck would survive your father’s hand.

‘It’s time we put our feud behind us and instead put our power to good use…’ Thomas trailed on, ‘Bring us together.’

Both you and your father shared a concerned look at each other. At the same time Chelsea joined the showdown, her face showing the same reaction before your eyes darted to more Eyrie men securing the place.

‘To unite power and power, to create an even greater power, an underground empire if you will.’ Mr. Shelby held his index finger high.

Shove it up your arse.

‘And how do you suggest we do that?’ Your father’s voice was laced with curiosity, less harsh than it was before, more interested in the proposition.

Mr. Shelby’s face fell to an amused expression. His demeanour changed. His stance straightened, his eyes caught yours. You knew what he was going to say yet you prayed with your eyes closed that for some miracle God would be on your side.

Dear Lord, I swear I’ll start praying every day if you swoop me out of this position. I’ll also stop taking drugs and I’ll—

‘I get to marry your daughter.’

Fuck. Shit. This can’t be happening. God I just asked for your help! Fuck you. Fuck.

The garden went quiet after the synchronised gaspes escaped everyone's mouth.

‘Excuse you.’ You grit through your teeth as Chelsea muttered, what the fuck.

Thomas had by now lit up another cigarette. Dragging is slow and gentle, each drag staring at your father and then you.

Your father shifted uncomfortably.

‘No way in hell am I agreeing to that. Sorry if I don’t receive your arrangement with the same courtesy, Mr. Shelby.’ Your father smiled devilishly, his fingers rubbing his nose. ‘If you’d like to leave with all body parts intact I suggest you leave immediately, though I’m sure a lot of our guests are still hungry. Raw steak perhaps?’ He threw his hands in the air with thin lips and spun around to see people’s reaction.

‘I knew you’d say that. That’s why I stormed all of your facilities and currently have every worker under your employment held at gunpoint.’

‘So you're forcing me to give you my daughter? My most valuable pawn?’

What?

You pulled your eyebrows together at what your father said. Pawn? You were a pawn before you were his daughter?

Thomas Shelby stared at you expecting you would say something but you stayed quiet. You had nothing to say as disappointment swept across your heart. He saw that. You knew that Thomas Shelby could feel your betrayal as his eyes fixated on you and your dress that was a size too small.

Desire. That’s what Thomas Shelby felt towards you. He desired every single part of his enemy's daughter. Your smooth skin that was soft to the touch. Your curves; oh how Thomas Shelby loved the way your body was shaped. Your legs, your hair, every remote thing about you, Thomas felt infatuated with. The only way to solve that is if he got you. If you were his.

Thomas Shelby stepped closer to his enemy’s front line. Daring to get close enough for physical contact.

‘You want to give your daughter to Sabini?’ He side-eyed you, a playful smile on his lips. ‘Someone who in comparison to us has no power? No sense of authority, leadership, or knows how to run a business.’

‘I have a deal with Sabini.’

What? Why am I just finding out about this now? What the fuck is happening.

‘I will offer you access to my facilities in Nottingham and will pay you seven times the amount Sabini has promised you.’

‘Can I have a say in this?’ You stared at your father who callously ignored you and whimsed you off with a waving hand.

Mr. Shelby however took a step in front of you. So close you took a step back like you were two repelling magnets. He took another deep inhalation of the hot smoke staring up at the sky whilst the filter rested on his lips.

‘You can find me to be very persistent, little mouse.’ Your stomach churned at the nickname. He lowered his head back to its original spot before coming closer, gently brushing his lips against your ear as he whispered, ‘When I see something I want, I get it. And if I don’t get it then I get very, very upset.’

A shiver ran down your spine as you both backed up. Chelsea gave you a worried look but just like your father you brushed it off. You didn’t want to make this a bigger scene even though internally your screams were howling out, trying to make a stop of the echo that continued on.

I see something I want?

Why does he want me? Is he going to use me as bait? Will I end up wrapped up in a little box as a present for all the mistakes my father had and continues to make? Was I going to be his pawn now?

Your dad hinted to Wayne, one of the bodyguards that was standing on his far left by the gates, nodding his head to close in on Thomas Shelby.

Mr. Shelby glanced at him for just a moment before reverting his attention back to your father, that aggravating smirk still on his face. How you wanted to grab it firmly and rip it off. Ugh!

‘Come to my office.’ Your father suddenly straightened up and made way for the unwanted guest that had charmed his way into his enemy’s territory. ‘We’ll discuss further details.’

You spun around speechless as they brushed straight past you. Ignoring the very thing that was in the middle of this outbreak. The only thing that you got in return was a wink from Mr. Shelby looking back at you. You didn’t want that wink.

You were left standing surrounded by many people, the back garden felt like it was closing in on you. Like air was suddenly out of reach.

All eyes were on you but you never have felt more alone. Even when Chelsea’s palm rubbed circles on your shoulder.

I am not a fan of Thomas Shelby.

‘Congrats!’ Your father gave you the fakest, least genuine smile ever as soon as you stepped into his office.

This was a big deal because no one ever in the family was allowed to step into the room. The only exception being obviously your dad, your uncles, any man that had business with your father. Your brother Sam was even banned from the room after he smoked all your father’s cigars in one night when his sneaky link Wendy came over.

The big room with black, vintage furniture felt even more unfamiliar as you took in your surroundings. Thomas Shelby standing by the desk; his hands in his pockets, nothing but a grin on his face as he lit up another cigarette.

‘What?’ You spoke louder than normal as a rush of fear washed over you.

‘You’re getting married next week.’

‘What? To Mr. Shelby?’ You crossed your arms and puffed out your lips.

‘Of course you are. Jesus. Are you as thick as your mother?’ Your father sat back in his chair with a loud thud. ‘Go pack your things.’

‘Father, I can’t marry him.’

‘The contract was signed.’

‘I can’t cook, or clean, or—‘

‘I have a maid to do that.’ Mr. Shelby chimed in unbothered as his eyes darted from you to your father.

‘I spend a lot of money, Papa.’

‘Thank god I’m the richest man in the United Kingdom and can afford your expensive taste.’ He pointed to your dress, though you could tell he was more infatuated with your breasts.

‘Bu—‘

‘Enough!’ Your father hit his wooden desk with a fist. Imaginary steam flowing from his ear. ‘You have a duty to this family and you’ll uphold this arrangement because you are an Eyrie woman!’ He raised his voice even louder. A voice that penetrated a deep fear from within your soul.

You swallowed heavily, realising that there was no way of getting out of this, so you let your face fall and gave both men a quick look before walking out of the door slowly. Hoping that maybe for some reason your father would call you back and say that this was all a big joke. But he never did. You went to your room and tried to pack up your entire life in 30 minutes. Chelsea gave you a helping hand, whilst Sam stood at the door giving you words of encouragement (murder). And once that was done your father along with your mother, Chelsea, and Sam stood in the hallway watching Thomas Shelby grab your bags and head outside of the door where your new life would start end.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ↴

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

genre: angst, smut, fluff

warnings: contains mature themes, violence, substance abuse, alcohol use, addiction, sexually explicit scenes, assault (non-sexual)

↪ one

↪ two

↪ three

↪ four

↪ five

↪ six

↪ seven

↪ eight

↪ nine (coming soon)

© rafesapologist 2023

Brother's Best Friend - Part 7

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Yay we're finally back with our favorite BBF! This chapter was inspired by a photo of Glen at an amusement park that's been floating around recently. If anyone could convince me to step foot into a haunted house, it would be Jake.

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: Haunted house attraction with mild (fake) gore, swearing, SLOW BURN YOU'VE BEEN WARNED DON'T COME FOR ME XD

WC: 3000+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Masterlist

“I don’t do haunted houses,” you say when Jake makes the suggestion for the fourth time that afternoon.

He and Bradley have just returned from the river log ride completely soaked and stupidly giddy. Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “You’ll go on the tallest roller coaster in the park but you’re afraid of a couple of zombie clowns?”

You cringe. “What the fuck are zombie clowns?”

Jake shrugs. “Whatever they are. It’ll be fun.”

“You’re really selling it,” you respond dryly. “But I think I’ll stick to the funnel cake.” You nod toward the stand a few yards away.

“You already skipped out on the log ride,” Bradley complains.

You eye his still-dripping shorts with a grimace. “It’s barely 60 degrees,” you say, tugging up on the zipper of your hoodie for emphasis.

Jake plants himself across from you at the bistro table and leans into it to get your attention. “You don’t actually want to sit here by yourself for another hour, do you?”

You shrug, glancing around. “I don’t mind, actually,” you say, your gaze drifting with the crowd as you pick out the best looking males. “I got asked out twice while you two were gone.”

Jake makes a disgruntled sort of face like he’s getting impatient. “Who asked you out?” he says with a hint of distaste as though he already disapproves. He glances around at the crowd of passersby suspiciously.

“Well, they’re gone now.”

Jake lets out an irritable sigh and looks back at you. “Come on, you’re not a wimp, Bradshaw.”

You shake your head. “That’s not going to work.”

“Let’s just go, Jake,” Bradley says. “We can’t force her.”

Jake stares at Bradley. “Didn’t you hear her? She’s being approached by random men. We can’t just leave her here.”

Bradley snorts. “Why not?”

Jake appears uncomfortable, but only for a moment. He shifts his weight in the chair and turns back to you. “I distinctly remember all three of us at Castle Frankenstein like ten years ago.”

“Mm-hm,” you reply. “And, since then, I don’t do haunted houses.”

Jake grimaces. “Why not?”

You give him a flat look. “You don’t remember?”

Jake furrows his brows and shakes his head.

“Oh yeah!” Bradley exclaims. “Good times.”

You stare at your brother crossly and then roll your eyes.

Jake glances between the two of you inquisitively. “All I remember is getting hot dogs right after,” he says.

You sigh. “You two assholes told me it wouldn’t be scary and then, after luring me in, you took off laughing! You left me behind to do the whole thing by myself.”

Bradley is chuckling smugly, but Jake looks mildly horrified. “Wow, we were shitheads,” he says with a cringe.

“Dude, we’re still shitheads,” Bradley points out.

Jake looks up at his friend with a wince and then rubs his forehead guiltily. “Y/N,” he says. “I promise you that, if you come, we’re not gonna ditch you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bradley says with a playful grin.

Jake gives him a stern look before glancing back at you. “I promise I won’t ditch you.”

You watch him skeptically, your arms folded over your chest.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks.

You purse your lips, trying not to be swayed by the slight squint of Jake’s eyes when he gives you a hopeful smile. You can’t help but daydream for a moment. You picture yourself being chased by zombie clowns with Jake by your side, holding your hand. And, if they’d get too close, maybe he would knock them out to keep you safe.

“Come on, sugar,” Jake says, interrupting your thoughts. He starts rising from him seat and holds out a hand for you. “We can use Bradley as a shield.”

You snort while Bradley shakes his head with a chuckle. “You can try,” he replies, starting for the haunted house.

You let out a sigh and take Jake’s hand, letting him drag you out of your chair. “I’m already regretting this decision,” you mutter.

Jake laughs. “This is gonna be fun!”

…

You gulp nervously as you step into the darkness. The moment the doors close behind you, your hand reaches out for one of the guys, making sure you're not alone. Somebody gives you a pat on the arm, silently reassuring as you advance. Suddenly, a loud bang to your right makes you jump, and you hear Jake's snicker right before he moves behind to lay a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Wicked,” you hear Bradley say as he travels slightly ahead of you. You follow your brother with Jake close behind, probably much closer than he would be in broad daylight, especially with Bradley just a few steps away.

“Remember,” Jake mutters from behind. “If you don’t run, they won’t chase you.”

You whimper. “Who won’t chase me?”

In the sparse, flashing lights, you see your brother take off down the hallway, setting off several animatronics as he goes. You slow your pace and Jake, who is still sopping wet, walks right into you. The sudden chill of his saturated clothes takes you by surprise and you yelp, springing away from him.

Jake leaps after you to grab your arm when you nearly trip over the cadaver that falls out of the wall and right into your path. “Having fun?” he asks facetiously as he helps you regain your balance, and you can sense the grin on his face without even seeing it.

“I hate you for making me do this,” you hiss.

Jake wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives them a squeeze. “You’re doin’ great, sweet cheeks.”

You wince at the cold seeping through your shirt and wriggle out of his grasp. “Seresin, you’re all wet!”

“Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly.

Just then, a large gust of air hits you from the side and you scream, flinging yourself right back into Jake’s arms. Jake pulls you in immediately and spins you away, blocking the air current with his back. But your relief is short-lived because, out of nowhere, two clowns with melting faces come barreling toward you with their arms outstretched.

You scream and, despite the sudden weakness in your limbs, start sprinting down the dimly lit corridor, completely forgetting Jake's instructions.

Jake catches up to you quickly and when the clowns all but overtake you, he curls his arm around your waist and practically lifts you off the ground as he runs.

When you finally round the bend and lose the clowns, Jake slows down and releases you, letting you catch your breath as he places his hands on his hips and takes a look around. “That was awesome,” he says with a huge smile.

You’re still gasping for air when you look up at him with a scowl. “You’re a lunatic if you enjoyed that.”

He claps you on the back. “Don’t worry, darlin’. We’re almost half-way through.”

“We’re not even half-way done?” you whine.

Jake chuckles. “Admit it, you’re having a blast,” he says.

You whimper quietly when he motions for you to follow him down another dark hallway. “I am never letting you talk me into this nonsense again,” you grumble, staying close behind him just in case another zombie clown pops out of the shadows.

But what you do not anticipate is the vibrating floor that makes you jerk backward, nor the fog that suddenly floods the corridor, nor the alarming screams that attack from all directions, making it impossible to communicate. You feel the floorboards shift underneath your feet and you hold out your arms to stabilize yourself. You stagger backward into a wall, and it rotates behind you, further disorienting you.

“Jake?” you cry, realizing that you’ve lost him in all the commotion. But your voice is drowned out by the continuous screaming still reverberating all around you.

In the flashes of light, you can see dozens of hands rattling a chain-link fence that looks like it won’t hold for very much longer. You try to push your way back through the wall – the way you came in – but it doesn't budge, meaning you’re stuck in this room until you find another way out.

“Jake!” you yell again, terror rooting you to the spot. The fence to your right finally rips open and gangly arms start stretching out toward you, making you jolt backward. You shriek, moving along the wall slowly because you’re too afraid to fall into another trap.

You reach the end of the chamber, which opens up to a tunnel, and whimper tragically. Going in will surely mean that you will have to complete the haunted maze without Jake, but the tunnel is probably the only way out of this room.

You only have a second to deliberate however, because at that moment, the fence behind you comes crashing down and a horde of zombies escapes. In the shadows, it looks like there might be more than half a dozen of them stumbling in your direction, tripping over one another to get to you.

If you don’t run, they won’t chase you. If you don’t run, they won’t chase you.

But the zombies are still coming, their hideous shrieks even more off-putting than their decaying faces.

You lunge into the tunnel and sprint faster and faster even as the passageway dips and winds and darkens. At a certain point, you are forced to stop running because it gets too dark to find your way without holding your hands out to feel the curve of the walls.

And then you hear his voice.

“Y/N!”

“Oh my god! Jake!” you screech.

“Y/N?” he yells back.

You start pushing on the solid wall before you because it sounds like he’s right on the other side. “Jake, where are you?” You can hear the zombies gaining on you further up the tunnel and you sob, “Jake, please get me out of here.”

Suddenly, a door creaks open to your right and you start, cowering from the blinking red light that filters into the pitch black passage. But then you see Jake’s broad-shouldered silhouette enter through the opening and, in your relief, you throw yourself right into him, burying your face into his chest as his arms close around your back. His grip tightens as you clutch onto the front of his soaked shirt, and you can feel his mouth over the top of your head. “I’ve got you,” he mutters into your hair. “I’ve got you.”

But before you can sink into the feeling of having Jake Seresin’s strong arms supporting your trembling frame, you hear the sound of footsteps as the zombies come hurtling through the tunnel. Without a word, Jake pulls you sideways, tucking you and himself behind the open door. He brings a finger to his lips when he sees that you’re about to cry out, and you hold your breath, watching the flashing lights illuminate the exhilaration in his eyes.

You close your own eyes as the zombies near, deciding that no amount of attention from Jake is worth participating in this traumatizing experience. And you promise yourself that you will never be swayed by his stupid, irresistible smile again.

That’s when you feel his body brush up against yours. You open your eyes to see his face hovering over your own, watching you intently as the zombies race by your hiding spot. His mouth curls into a smirk when it becomes apparent that his plan has worked as expected. You try your best to concentrate on the direct threat of flesh-eating zombies and not on his leg that’s pressed into your thigh, or his hand that you suddenly notice is gripping your hip, but it isn’t easy prioritizing escape when his eyes are dancing with delight only about three inches from your face.

You want him to kiss you. You want him to kiss you so badly. Right here in the darkness, concealed behind a heavy, wooden door, surrounded by a dense mist and a musty smell, with the added ambience of distant screams in the background. But, of course, you aren’t going to voice this desire. Because that would be more terrifying than getting eaten alive by a bunch of zombie clowns. So, instead, you say, “Get me the fuck out of here, Seresin.”

Jake nods, stepping away from you slowly, almost reluctantly. He holds his arm out to direct you out of the tunnel through the splintered door. He leads you past the holographic apparitions that float eerily along the walls, through the hall of warped mirrors that make your eyes hurt and your head spin, and over the various trap doors in the final stretch of your journey.

But he stops when you get to a dark, narrow split between two concrete walls. “This is the exit,” he says with a grimace. “Sorry,” he adds.

You shake your head. “I’m not going in there.”

“There’s no other way out.”

You stare at him in horror. “I’m claustrophobic.”

Jake drags a hand over his face. “That’s not good,” he says.

You feel yourself start to panic so you lash out by slapping him on the shoulder. “How could you not know that?”

Jake shrugs. “I forgot, I guess.”

Your breathing accelerates as your heart pounds painfully against your ribcage. “I hate your guts, Seresin,” you mutter. “You’re going to pay for this.”

In response, Jake gives you a very broad, very happy smile, as though you didn’t just tell him that you despise him.

“What?” you say heatedly.

Jake continues grinning. “You’re mad.”

“Yeah, I’m mad! Why are you so happy about it?”

He shakes his head. “No reason.”

You glare at him. “You should fear my wrath.”

He bites his lip, watching you affectionately. “It’s definitely the scariest part of this whole place.”

“I’m angry!” you yell, although you feel a fit of laughter start to bubble up in your chest.

Jake tries to keep a straight face. “Okay, but, could you be angry in there?” He nods at the chasm leading toward the exit, his eyes scanning the area behind you. “Because the zombies are coming.”

He ushers you into the fissure between the walls, keeping his hand on your back as you make your way forward. The only thing that makes up for this stressful conclusion to an already harrowing adventure is that his fingers seem to slip further down your back the farther you walk, trailing past the waistline of your jeans and stopping in the vicinity of your back pocket.

“See?” he says cheerily as the gap between the walls begins to narrow. “It’s not that bad.”

You try to concentrate on the light touch of his fingers as he hooks a couple of them into the back pocket of your jeans rather than the cracking walls rising up on either side of your body that seem to be closing in on you the deeper you go.

“Just so you know, there’s going to be a vibrating floor tile somewhere up ahead,” Jake says quietly, very close to your ear. “It’s coming up.”

You look over your shoulder sharply. “No,” you respond curtly, as if you could will this particular contraption away.

Jake squeezes himself in between your chest and the wall, his fingers regrettably slipping out of your pocket. The space is so tight that, no matter how much you press you backs into the walls, your bodies are still touching. “You can do this,” he says. “I’m right here.”

You frown at him, annoyed and love-sick all at once. Why did he insist on you coming? Why did he bring you along knowing he’d have to babysit you the entire time? Unless he doesn’t mind being with you. Perhaps it’s what he was hoping for.

Jake’s eyes skim worriedly over your face. “Are you okay?” he asks.

You draw in a wavering breath, content to let him fret for another several seconds over your wellbeing. Finally, you respond, “If we survive this hellhole, I’m going to murder you.”

Jake chuckles, placing his hands on your shoulders. “If we survive this hellhole, I’m getting you two funnel cakes.”

You let out a resolute sigh and nod. “Make it three. I want one of each flavor.”

Jake grins. “You got it.”

You bring your hands up to push at his chest, squirming in the compact space against his shirt. “How are you still wet?” you say irritably. “We’ve been in here for hours.”

Jake makes a face. “It’s been like six minutes, actually.”

You groan. “And this is why I don’t do haunted houses.”

…

Finally – finally ­– you step out into the cool, breezy sunshine with Jake on your heels. Bradley waves at the two of you from across the walkway, coming over to greet you.

“Took you a while,” Bradley remarks.

You grimace at him. “It’s only been like six minutes,” you retort sourly.

Jake looks like he might be trying to suppress a laugh.

“As if you took off again,” you reprimand your brother.

Bradley shrugs. “The trick is to race through these things and not stop to smell the rotting flesh.”

You shudder. “I need to sit down; my legs feel like jelly.”

“Log ride?” Bradley says to Jake. “While this one recuperates?” He nods toward you with a grin.

Jake pinches at his still soaking shirt and then wrinkles his nose. “I think I’ll sit this one out,” he says. “Promised your sister I’d get her funnel cake.”

“Three,” you remind him.

Jake graces you with an amused smirk. “I would love to see you try to get through three whole funnel cakes.”

As Bradley takes off in the direction of the log ride, you glance at Jake apprehensively. “You could go with him,” you say, cursing yourself for even suggesting it because all you want is to spend some time alone with Jake – not inside of a nuthouse.

Jake gives you a quick smile before starting for the funnel cake stand. “Don’t want to,” he responds.

You fall into step with him, wondering why he’d rather hang around you than his best friend. As he’s ordering the funnel cakes, you decide that you’re reading too much into things and he’s probably just hoping to dry off before going on the next ride, and that his decision to skip the log ride has nothing to do with you at all.

But then, as the two of you watch the mesmerizing creation of the world’s most delicious pastry through the glass window of the kitchen, Jake says this: “Heard you broke up with what’s-his-name.”

Your grip on the tray in your hands tightens but your eyes remain on the rapidly frying dough. It was a casual question, and Jake isn’t even looking at you, but his repeated interest in your dating life continues to give you hope where there probably isn’t any. He’s just making conversation. You shrug. “He was an asshole,” you say nonchalantly.

“Told you he would be,” Jake responds with an equally casual tone.

You bite your bottom lip aggressively, tired of the ambiguity behind his words. “That’s fine,” you retort. “I’ve got options.”

That’s when Jake turns to look at you with a troubled pair of eyes.

“Your words,” you remind him. “So, I took your advice.”

He narrows his eyes. “What advice would that be?”

“I told you someone asked out,” you say, setting the first of your funnel cakes down onto your tray.

“You said yes?” he gapes at you. “To a stranger?”

You watch him pensively for a moment. “You know, I think we’re going to need another tray,” you say, deciding to keep him in suspense for another minute.

Call it payback or something.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this installment of torturous pining. Don't forget to send in your ideas for these two in my ask box!

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SOUR | JJK

PAIRING: Boxer Jungkook x Ballerina Reader

GENRE: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, BOXER AU, DANCE, AU SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST

Words: 10k🥸

WARNINGS: abusive parents, drugs, making out, Jungkook breaking in again, cursing, they're complete opposites, cringe nicknames, ANNOYING fangirls, reader is insecure, polar opposites dynamics, emo boy Jk, inexperienced reader, bullying

SYNOPSIS:

In the world of boxing, Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of an ace with his tattoos and rippling muscles. You, however, are his opposite—a delicate presence. When told you're not his usual type, doubts arise. Are you truly meant for each other?

A/n: Hiiiiiii it's that time again! Hope you enjoy reading this update and please let me know what you think or if you have any ideas I could add in the future also just wanted to take a moment to say ty to each and every one of you who keeps coming back to read my lil stories or just discovering them for the first time whether you've been here for a while or are brand new on this blog! You're all welcome (as long as you're over 18 eep-) 🤍. Let's go feral over this Jungkook together in the asks <3.

Dressed in a black shirt and a pair of loose training shorts, Jungkook's muscles were prominent beneath the fabric as he made his way to the boxing area.

Theres sounds of gloves meeting punching bags through the place and loud music blasting over the speaker as the scent of sweat hang strongly in the air.

Frustration welled up within Jungkook as he caught a glimpse of his self-proclaimed fan club, who seemed to have found their way near the ring. He rolls his eyes.

A surge of annoyance coursed through his veins, and a quiet "fuck" slipped past his lips but is gaze quickly fixed on the boxing ring that stood at the center of the room like a trophy.

Jungkook was pumped to kick some serious ass today, eager to release all the emotions that had been swirling around in his head for the past few days. He was now dating you—the fucking girl of his dreams–what better way to celebrate, than by going all out and fucking up his opponents?

Jungkook had always been passionate about working out, pushing his body to its limits with hardcore training.

But there was something about boxing that ignited... excitement in him—a primal energy that had caught his complete attention.

It was more than just a way to get stronger for him– it was an opportunity to prove his strength, both physical and mentally testing his limits.

The sound of leather gloves connecting with the punching bags, the shouts of trainer Chan motivating his friends who came earlier than him today, all filled him with happiness, only thing that could make today better was you.

But there was no way he'd let you set foot in this place, not with all these sweaty men, weirdos, and the damn crazy fangirls swarming around

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook stepped onto the padded floor, the ring was his sanctuary, a space where he could let his true self shine.

He easily put on a pair of boxing gloves, tightening the straps around his wrists with practiced movements. The weight of the gloves was familiar, a reminder of the victories he had earned over the past years–Jungkook was this gyms–no–this cities pride whenit came to boxing.

Flexing his knuckles inside the gloves, he cracks his neck and looks at Namjoon, his friend and todays opponent.

"Good luck fucker" Jungkook joked earning a laugh from the small crowd that had formed around the ring–and this was just practise, when it came to an actual fight, people would pay thousands to see him go all in.

"You too kid"

With that, the bell rang, and the sounds of punches and grunts began.

-

"Three, two, one... Three, two, one..." Mrs. Chuu acknowledges you with a nod as you flawlessly execute your choreography, just as you had rehearsed these past few weeks.

"And two, and three, and..." Mrs. Chuu furrows her brows, shaking her head. "You're going the wrong way, Y/n," she speaks firmly. "I can't understand why you consistently turn left instead of right." She shakes her head "Again."

You nod, regaining your composure, readjusting your skirt and foot placement, and gripping the ballet bar once more, your body was tense, but from the outside you looked as effortless and soft as possible.

After dedicating a solid seven hours to dancing today–with well-deserved breaks sprinkled in–it was no surprise that exhaustion was settling in.

You were used to this kind of exhaustion. It was like a routine for you, dancing for seven days a week. The only silver lining was that on Fridays, you got a sweet long break only having to be at the studio for 1 hour of stretching—a well-deserved rest day.

"Hey, focus, y/n!" Mrs. Chuus voice snaps you back to reality, making you bitebyour lip for getting caught daydreaming

Your mom was about to arrive any minute now, eager to see your progress. And to be honest, both you and Mrs. Chuu dreaded her arrival. She had this annoying trade to nitpick and find flaws in everything.

"She's gonna be all over you, judging your every move," she sighs, fully aware of what was about to go down.

Your mom's a known perfectionist and a pain in the ass, no doubt about it. "you have to nail this. There's no room for errors L/n" she scolds.

You give a nod, glancing at yourself in the mirror.

You adjust your pose, making sure everything is on point.

As the musiv starts, you immerse yourself in the flow of it, letting it guide your movements. The music fills the room, your body signaling you exactly what to do. You're in your zone now, giving it your best. It's like you and ballet are in perfect sync–one.

You steal a quick glance at Mrs. Chuu, who's watching you intently. She's got that poker face on, not giving anything away. But deep down, you know she's analyzing every step, every turn, every facial expression–maybe even if a strand of hair lays weird.

From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of your mom walking into the studio. She exchanges pleasantries with Mrs. Chuu before her gaze sets on you. Instantly, nerves kick in.

What if you stumble? What if you miss a step? Your mind starts wandering threatening to throw you off balance.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, there's a loud crash that sounds through the studio. You feel yourself losing balance, and before you know it, you're down on your knees, completely crashed on the floor.

The room falls silent, and you can practically feel the weight of your mom's disapproving gaze tearing you apart.

This is it. You're done for.

You brace yourself for the criticism that's about to rain down on you. She's never going to let you hear the end of it. Shit

Her voice breaks the silence. "Y/n L/n." You don't dare look up, too scared to meet her eyes.

"Not one thing can you do right."

You freeze, not surprised by her harsh comment. It feels like a punch to the gut, though, and your breath hitches. You've been working so hard, giving it your all, and now it feels like it's not enough.

You gather your strength, slowly lift your head, and meet her gaze head-on nodding and standing up again, fixing your outfit. "I'm sorry mom" you whisper close to tears, not of sadness, but of stress.

"I'm leaving. You're such an embarrassment," your mom's cutting words hang in the air as she actually walks out, not even bothering to apologize or offer any reassurance.

The embarrassment settles in, and you feel a wave of humiliation wash over you. Getting yelled at in front of Mrs. Chuu was beyond...uncomfortable

But before you have a chance to dwell on the situation, you feel a comforting hand on your shoulder. It's Mrs. Chuu, her presence bringing a sense of solace. She gives you a small smile.

"Everyone makes mistakes, y/n," she says gently, her voice reassuring. She walks over to your bag and gets your water, handing it to you. "Don't be too hard on yourself. You know how your mom can get. You don't have worry about what just happened."

You nod, grateful for her words of encouragement. Mrs. Chuu has always been there for you, not only as a dance instructor but also as someone who understands the relationship between you and your family and the pressures that come with it.

"Thanks, Mrs. Chuu," you say giving her a sad smile.

-

Kook🩷: how's my girls day going?

Today 5pm

A soft smile forms across your face as you read the text message on your phone, causing a faint blush to colour your cheeks. Sitting on the studio floor, with Mrs. Chuu is already gone. You find yourself lost in the moment, thinking of when you would see Jungkook, your boyfriend, again.

"If you only knew, Kookie..." you whisper to yourself, a sad shine in your eyes, and with a quick press of your fingers on the screen, you type out a response tilting your head.

With newfound energy, you gather your belongings and make your way out the studio.

You: good, Im heading home right now. How was yours?

Today 5:07 pm

Jungkook's brows furrow as he looks down at his phone, his expression shifting into a frown. "Good? Just good?" he mutters under his breath, a sense of confusion creeping in. It didn't add up. He was used to receiving a "very good!" or "amazing."

The simplicity of "good" left him feeling unsettled. Something must be off with yoy. Maybe you were just tired, he tried to convince himself, shaking away the negative thoughts.

Just as he's about to lock his phone, determined to put it out of his mind, a girl, Wendy, interrupts his train of thought with a god awful smile. "Jungkookie, we're all going out for drinks. Will you join us?" she asks, her voice carrying a hint of eagerness.

"No," Jungkook responds abruptly, dismissing her invitation. He swiftly grabs his bag, ready to make his exit. However, Wendy insists, stopping him. Annoyed, he glances back at her, his eyes basically telling her to fuck off already.

"But why not? You did such a great job today," Wendy chirps, her voice slowly getting on his nerves "it's on me!"

There's something about her overly cheery demeanour that rubs him the wrong way. Her piercings and tattoos may give off a rebellious vibe, but Jungkook can see through the facade. She's one of those manipulative bullies who always gets what she wants. He knows she's after him, and he hates the thought of him being with someone other than you.

"I'm going home," Jungkook states firmly, repeating his decision, tone leaving no room for negotiation.

"Who's got you by the balls, huh?" Wendy's real demeanor shines through, but Jungkook isn't fazed. He's seen this side of her before.

She had pushed her limits in the past, causing trouble that led to her being kicked out. This gym is not her personal Tinder playground, where she can just stroll in and pick whoever catches her fancy in the moment.

He meets her gaze with a firm expression, his voice laced with anger. "You wanna get kicked out of here again?" he questions, his tone carrying a warning. He knows exactly what she wants from him.

Wendy smirks, her lips forming an enticing pout. "So you know what I want," she sing-songs taking a step closer to him. "Then why don't you give it to me?" Her voice drips with suggestion, her fingers lightly grazing his chest. It's a calculated move and he knows.

Jungkook's expression hardens as he pushes her away, "Back the fuck off, Wendy. Find someone else to fulfill your needy desires. I'm not down," he growls scanning her from head to toe, already reaching for a cigarette to light up once he's outside the building.

What a fucking day

"Get the fuck off my back," he rolls his eyes, dismissing her presence as he confidently walks away.

"Aish" Wendy is left huffing and stomping her feet in frustration, making her way back to her clique.

-

"...I'm feeling lonely..." you sing, playfully belting out the lyrics to a catchy new song while rummaging through your wardrobe.

It was that time of year again—time to declutter and donate some of your clothes. You realize you've accumulated way too many pieces, and it's always a good feeling to give to those who needed it more. This has become a bit of a tradition for you.

As you're completely engrossed in what you're doing, dancing to the beat of your favourite music–knock

Out of nowhere, there's an unexpected knock on your window that jolts you right out of your daydreamjng. You quickly hit pause on your playlist, and with a hint of curiosity, you cautiously look around "what on earth...?" Walking back into your room making eye contact with none other than the one and only Jeon Jungkook, standing on your balcony once again like he owns the place.

You can't help but feel a mix of excitement and panic. Like, damn, how does this guy manage to pop up at the most unexpected moments? He's like a master of surprises. Your master of surprises.

As you lock eyes with Jungkook, a grin stretches across his face, and you can practically see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Is this going to be a regular thing now?" you teasingly ask, opening the window and letting him in, Jungkook adjusts his shirt, his expression back to a smile. Hed once again climbed the tree in front of your window just to see you.

"It's the only way I get to see you. Should I start knocking on your door instead?" he playfully retorts, leaning in for a quick "hello" kiss and the surprise of his spontaneous affection leaves you momentarily stunned, your breath hitching at his unexpected gesture.

"I-I was just cleaning out my closet, though... I don't know if that's so interesting for you," you say, walking back to your walk-in closet and settling back down on the floor amidst the pile of clothes.

"I'll help you," Jungkook smirks, joining you and holding up a cute pink top that you hadn't worn in months. He gazes at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Try this on for me," he suggests, passing you the shirt.

It was a cute shirt, you remember wearing it for practise once or twice.

"You want me to try this on?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook as he holds up the cute pink top. A mischievous glint dances in his eyes, and you can tell he's up to something.

Jungkook smirks, his teasing nature in full bloom tonight. "I just want to see how it looks on you," he replies, shrugging. But Jungkook knew what he was doing.

"Well, if you're that eager to see me in this shirt, who am I to deny you the pleasure?" you tease, talking like one of those girls you went to rpivate school with.

Taking the top from him you head to the bathroom to change making Jungkook poke the inside of his cheek.

As you slip into the pink top, you notice that it fits in all the right places. It looks perfectly fjne, accentuating your figure, and you can't deny that it looks great on you. A smile spreads across your face.

Walking back to where Jungkook is waiting, you strike a playful stupid pose, "So, what do you think sir? Does it pass the test?" you ask, twirling slightly to show off the shirt.

Jungkook's eyes widen as he takes in your appearance, clearly impressed by how the shirt enhances your...boo-chest. He smirks, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he responds. "You look cute," he admits, his voice filled with genuine adoration.

You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, flattered by his compliment. "Well, I guess this shirt is a keeper then," you say, getting shy again.

"It's not just the shirt, sugar. It's you. You make everything look incredible," he says, his voice laced with affection.

A smile tugs at your lips, and you reach out to gently brush your fingers against his cheek. "You always know how to make me feel special," you whisper, staring into his dark eyes "I really like you Jungkook" you confess, brushing a stray strand of hair back behind his ear.

"I like you even more," he smirks, playfully pulling you onto his lap "A lot more," he teases, causing you to lightly hit his chest and pout in response.

"So, what exactly are you doing here? You know it's risky, Jungkook... my parents..." you say, biting your lip and sitting up straighter, suddenly realizing the seriousness of the situation.

"Well, we'll be fine, sugar. Just be quiet," he reassures you with a smile.

Your eyes widen in disbelief. "Me? Quiet? It's my room!" you complain, shaking your head. "I don't care if they hear me, but seriously, my mom heard you last time. I still can't believe I managed to convince her that there was no one here."

"Because you're my smart girl," he says, raising his eyebrows and playfully pinching your arms. "You're tougher than you look."

You let out a silent sigh, trying to make him understand the seriousnes of the situation.

Taking another piece of clothing from the pile and analyzing it, Jungkook shrugs, saying, "I'm just here because I was bored at home. Can't a boyfriend visit his girlfriend in peace?"

With another playful tap on his chest, you exclaim, "It would be so freaking adorable if my parents wouldn't go all crazy and ruin my life if they found out about us." Frustration lingers in the air as you mindlessly toss the skirt into your "give away" bag, silently hoping to finish decluttering by tonight.

"Seriously, Kookie," you hiff, biting your lip in concern. "Can't you give me a heads-up when you're planning to swing by? It's not always just me in my room, you know." You look at him, your eyes worried.

Jungkook can't help but let out a hearty laugh at your plea, pinching your cheek affectionately. "Kookie, huh? I kinda like that nickname," he admits, before clearing his throat "only from you thoigh, of course"

"Kook..."

Leaning in closer, he whispers, "Alright, alright, I promise I'll try to give you a heads-up next time, sugar," he starts "but you gotta admit, the surprise makes it more thrilling." He smirks, fully aware of the effect he has on you.

You roll your eyes, hitting his arm. "Thrilling, huh? Well, it's not so thrilling when I'm on the verge of a panic attack every time you appear out of thin air." You try to sound annoyed, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips when you look at him. "Poof" you imitate with your hands "like that"

"I'm sorry, sugar. I didn't mean to scare you. I just can't stop thinking about you, i have to see you, even if it means risking your parents' wrath." He plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his tone still teasing

You melt into his embrace, "I know, Kookie. I can't stop thinking aboutyou either...," you admit, burying your face in his hard chest. "Just... let's try to be a bit more cautious, okay?."

He holds you tighter, "Absolutely, if that's what my pretty girl wants."

In that moment, as you nestle in his arms, you sigh "this is nice, I never got why people hugged so much until now" you smile kissing his nose. "Let's get this done yeah?" You say pointing to the pile of clothes, Jungkook sighing dramatically. "It's so much..."

-

The walk-in closet is an absolute mess it's bursting at the seams with pants, skirts, and shoes. It's like a fashion explosion in here if you were honest.

And right in the middle of all that fashion shit, you find yourself tangled up with Jungkook, his lips eagerly meeting yours and creating audible smacking noises.

What started as a simple decluttering mission has quickly escalated into a full-blown make-out session.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, lightly tapping his shoulder. "How do people make out for hours on end?" You take a moment to catch your breath, wiping off some of your lipgloss from Jungkook's smirking lips.

"I don't know, never really cared," he nonchalantly shrugs, gripping your waist as you sit on his lap, ready for another round of kissing. But you put a stop to it.

"No, seriously," you insist, "Have you seen those movies? It's insane how they can keep it up for so long!" You start to rant, but Jungkook interrupts you once again.

"Sugar, you're my girlfriend, but respectfully, shut up and kiss me," he playfully bumps his nose against yours. "You're such an interesting girl, you know that?"

"Wow, I'll just take that as a compliment," you say, raising an eyebrow and pursing your lips playfully. Glancing at the clock, which annoyingly showed 11pm, you let out a sigh of frustration. Time was slipping away, and there was still so much left to do.

As you pondered, Jungkook leaned in, his big hand gently squeezing your hip and pulling you closer "Kiss me again." A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he licked them suggestively.

Caught off guard, you bite your lip, glancing around the room. There was still a lot to be done–it far from complete. But, after a moment of consideration, you give in to the temptation.

Okay, fine. Just a bit more You think to yourself.

With a hushed whisper, you let your agreement slip, your voice shy.

Despite the nagging voice in the back of your mind reminding you of the unfinished decluttering, you cave, after all, a little more fun couldn't hurt, right?

Jungkook's lips connected back to yours, and you could feel the intensity of his kiss as his skilled tongue left you breathless. His hands roamed around your body, but always with a respectful touch, only grazing your waist or arm.

With gentle pecks, he playfully nudged his nose against yours, provoking a shy giggle. It felt surreal, as if he couldn't possibly be real.

After a moment, he broke the intimate silence, his voice slightly husky as he asked you, "Hey sugar."

You responded by leaning your head against his hard chest, finding comfort in his embrace.

As you relaxed in his arms, he asked, "Did anything... happen today?" His tone grew more serious, and he cleared his throat, sitting up straighter.

"What? Why do you ask?" confusion formed across your forehead as you furrowed your brows, wondering why he was bringing this up.

He sighed softly, his fingers playing with a stray strand of your hair. "Just because your text seemed a bit off when I asked you about your day earlier" he explained, his eyes searching yours.

Your lips instinctively pressed together as you bit down on them, deep in thought, reflecting on the events of thsi afternoon.

"Everything was fine." you glance at Jungkook, offering a shrug, it was a lie, but you didn't want to burden him with the truthful details of your mom completely losing it.

Jungkook wasn't stupid, and he could tell when you were lying. "Aish" He let out a soft sigh, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek as he tilted your head up to meet his gaze. "Why don't you want to tell me?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

The soft touch and the way he looked at you made you squirm uncomfortably. You were so used to people not caring about your problems that it felt strange for Jungkook to actually be interested. Did he truly care, or was he just asking out of obligation as your boyfriend? The doubt crept into your mind, leaving you questioning his intentions.

"It's not a big deal," you shrugged, trying to downplay the situation. But, deep down, you knew it bothered you.

Unconsciously, you pulled away slightly, creating a small distance between the two of you.

Jungkook noticed your this and sighed, using his strong arms and pulling you back in.

He leaned in, his lips gently brushing against the side of yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. "It's a big deal if it makes you sad, sugar," he admitted.

Still hesitant, you shrugged again, as if trying to convince both him and yourself. "I messed up at practice today," you finally admitted, your voice frustrated.

"But see, it's not a big deal. It just annoys me," you added, your agitation becoming apparent. You were trying to maintain your independence and not burden him with your struggles, but deep down, you longed for his understanding and support. For comfort.

"Yeah, I get that," Jungkook sighed, leaning his head back against the couch behind him. His eyes scanned your figure, taking in your body language. "I feel the same way sometimes when I lose fights or make mistakes. It's frustrating, but I guess there's nothing we can do about it, huh?" He chuckled lightly, playfully poking your cheek.

"You're incredibly talented, sugar," he stated, his voice sincere and encouraging. "Don't let one slip-up fuck up your mood. Everyone has their off days. It doesn't define you."

He shifted his attention to the chaotic scene of the closet, where piles of clothes were still scattered on the floor. A mischievous grin appeared on his face as he surveyed the mess. "Let's finish this, huh?"

-

"You're in a good mood, Jeon," Chan his trainer, noticed, playfully hitting his side with the boxing glove on his hand. "Finally got laid?" he joked, trying to provoke a reaction, which earned him an even harder hit from Jungkook.

"Fuck off, man. Not everything always has to be about sex," Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Wow, Jeon Jungkook not thinking about sex? What happened to you, man?" Chan couldn't help but laugh at Jungkook's response.

However, he quickly let it go, glancing down at his watch. "It's 5pm already. Do you want to do one more match, or should we call it a day?" he asked, giving Jungkook the option to decide.

A mischievous smirk spread across Jungkook's face as he pondered the question. "Let me beat you up one more time," he replied with a harsh glint in his eyes. He was eager for another round, ready to release his pent-up energy in the ring.

"Damn, just look at him" Wendy lets out a sigh, absentmindedly toying with her lipring as she fixates her gaze on Jungkook's intense fight in the ring. The way his muscles ripple beneath that shirt of his with each punch he delivers is straight-up sexy.

"I mean, seriously, he's smoking hot," another girl chimes in, unable to resist biting her lip and shooting heart-eyed glances in his direction.

Lisa, shakes her head disapprovingly and takes a sip of her soda, "Come on, guys, get real." She rolls her eyes at the infatuated girls, knowing all too well that they're letting their imaginations run wild.

"You're all living in a fantasy world," she scoffs. "Let's be honest here, he's way out of your leagues. That guy probably has biker girls lining up for him, not just groupies like you." She laughs

The girls stand stunned into silence, their jaws practically hitting the floor exchanging bewildered glances "she's such a bitch," the girls mumble in unison as they turn on their heels and walk away, clearly annoyed by Lisa's remarks.

Meanwhile, Lisa can't help but chuckle mischievously, thoroughly enjoying the reaction playfully bumping fists with her girlfriend Jihyo.

"You know, babe, I love it when you drop those truth bombs," Jihyo laughs, planting a tender kiss on lisas cheek.

As their attention returns to the scene unfolding in the ring, Lisa's curiosity gets the best of her "Hey, do you think our dear Kook has a girl hiding that he's not telling us about?"

Jihyo ponders the question, her eyes fixed on Jungkook as he throws punches. "It's definitely a possibility," she responds, shrugging nonchalantly. "I mean, he's been leaving practice early lately, and he even canceled plans with us a few times. Something's up."

Lisa nods, her intrigue growing. "Hmm, interesting. Can't blame him though. If he's that committed to her, she must be someone special—definetly a keeper."

"Alright, alright, you win," Chan spits out, visibly frustrated, as he yanks off his gloves and tosses them aside.

"Didn't you tell me not to overreact when I lose? Yet here you are, Mr. Condescending," Jungkook laughs sarcastically.

He takes a swig of water, relishing in the victory. Disregarding the empty bottle, he casually tosses it into the nearby trash can.

"Fuck ofd" chan rolls his eyes

"Hey, I'm just keeping you on your toes," Jungkook retorts playfully

Chan stares at him, growling something as he walks towards the changing rooms, slamming the door leaving Jungkook behind, a smirk playing on his lips.

Spotting his friend Namjoon nearby, he can't resist extending a victorious fistbump. "Man, winning against our coach? Good job, man!" Namjoon chuckles, the amusement between them evident.

"Fuck yeah, m really showed him who's boss," Jungkook replies, giving Joon a nudge

Casually reaching into his pocket, Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and lights it up with a flick of his lighter. He takes a drag, exhaling a plume of smoke, and then looks at Joon with a raised eyebrow. "You smoking?" he asks, nodding towards the exit inviting him for a quick smoke break.

Joon shakes his head, a hint of resignation in his expression. "Nah, man. I quit. You know how Jinny always bugs me about it," he replies, shrugging his shoulders. He glances at the cigarette dangling between Jungkook's fingers.

"Fair enough," Jungkook responds, taking another drag from his cigarette before flicking the ash away.

As Joon starts to walk away, he rememberes something, prompting him to halt in his tracks "Hey, by the way," he interjects, his voice calm. "When were you planning to let me in on the secret that you've got a girl at home?"

Jungkook's eyes widen, caught off guard by Joon's question. "How'd you dind out?" he asks, his tone filled with curiosity.

Joon smirks, raising an eyebrow "Saw a text message from 'sugar' on your phone earlier," he says.

Jungkook's surprise transforms into a faint smile, a hint of a smile breaking through his tough exterior. "Well, you caught me," he admits.

"As long as you're happy, man," Joon adds, his tone softening. "You seem calmer lately. Must be good for you."

"Mh" Jungkook hums taking another drag

"Gotta go now, see you tomorrow," Jungkook says casually, walking over to his bike and putting on his helmet.

Unbeknownst to him, Wendy and Irene, overhear his words and exchange mischievous glances.

"Did you hear that?" Wendy gasps, her eyes widening with excitement. "A girl? Jeon Jungkook's got a girlfriend!" Her voice is filled with surprise and a hint of jealousy.

"No way," Irene scoffs, crossing her arms and smirking. "Must be some girl for Jungkook to actually commit." She takes a final puff of her cigarette, casually blowing the smoke into the air.

"Right? Seriously, though, which girl hasn't he fucked?" Wendy scoffs, dramatically rolling her eyes. Irene, unfazed, simply shrugs saying "you" earning herself a playful punch in the ribs from Wendy.

"Not yet," Wendy grins mischievously. "Trust me, he'll give in eventually. Girlfriend or not, mark my words." She smirks confidently, swiping her friend's cigarette and taking a drag for herself.

"Okay, whatever," Irene sighs, her eyes rolling in annoyance. "I've got to go pick up my little sis from ballet class now. Catch you later, loser."

-

"One, two, three One, two, three" Mrs. Chuu's voice fills the dance studio, her words sounding over the music. She stands at the front, conducting the ballet class with a keen eye. "Amazing, girls, Keep it up!" she encourages.

Moving carefully, she begins to make her way around the room, inspecting each girl's posture and offering corrections.

"Joy, straighten up, my dear," Mrs. Chuu advises gently, her voice carrying a tone of guidance.

Turning her attention to Mina, Mrs. Chuu raises her voice slightly to be heard over the music. "Not too fast, Mina," she advises.

As Mrs. Chuu walks by Sana, she notices a slight tension in the girl's expression. "Watch your facial expression, Sana," she reminds her.

Then, Mrs. Chuu's gaze falls upon you, "Y/n." Her experienced eyes scan your form from head to toe, evaluating your progress. "You're doing good," she remarks, her words accompanied by a warm smile.

-

Slipping off your worn-out ballet shoes, you let out a heavy sigh, relieved that today's ballet practice was a group session rather than an intense solo session with Mrs. Chuu. Although the pressure seemed somewhat alleviated during group rehearsals, you couldn't deny the exhaustion that rushes through your body.

As you gather your breath, a friendly voice interrupts your thoughts. "Hey, Y/n, can I borrow a pen?" It's Joy, a girl from your class who was around the same age as you.

You respond with a nod, returning her smile. "Sure, Here you go," you say, retrieving a pen from your bag and handing it over.

Taking a moment to catch your breath and stretch your tired muscles, you look at yourself in the mirror, checking your hair and makeup, you were seeing Jungkook after this after all.

A few more moments pass and there's only you and Joy left in the studio, you give her a small smile and type on your phone while she does the same

You: I'm done with practise now, beach later?☺️

Today 6pm

Kookie🩷: can't, im a bit far

Today 6pm

You frown "oh" pouting you type an okay, turning off your phone and gathering your things to head home.

As you lift your gaze, ready to head out, you nearly let out a surprised scream when you spot Jungkook casually leaning against the door of the studio, as if he owns the place.

Your eyes dart towards Joy, still engrossed in her phone, oblivious to the presence of the leather-clad man standing at the entrance.

With wide eyes and a racing heart, you quickly make your way towards the door, feeling a surge of panic.

Without uttering a single word, you grab Jungkook's wrist and guide him into the nearby janitor's room for more privacy and safety from any prying eyes.

"What are you doing here, Jungkook?" you whisper with concern, "You're practically begging to get me into trouble at this point," you add

Jungkook smirks in response, his gaze fixed on you. "Chill, sugar. No one saw me," he reassures leaning in, his intention clear as he moves in for a kiss, but you instinctively stop him, your hand placed firmly against his chest.

"Yet," you scoff, a note of panic creeping into your voice. "No one saw you yet," you repeat, emphasizing the word 'yet'.

Jungkook's smirk fades slightly, "Okay, okay," his tone shifts to a more serious one. "I'll be more careful. I didn't mean to worry you," his voice softened.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you glance at the door, "We should go back before someone notices," you suggest, grabbing his wrist

"Sugar," Jungkook stops you, tilting his head with a raised brow. "Did I ever tell you that you look cute when you're upset?" His comment manages to both annoy and make you blush.

As he tilts your chin up, his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, causing your pout to fade away almost instantly. It's hard to stay mad at him for too long.

But reality quickly sets back in, and you regain your serious tone. "We really have to leave," you insist, taking his hand once again, ready to make an exit.

However, he stops you in your tracks with a tilded head

A smirk plays on Jungkook's lips as he raises an eyebrow suggestively. "ever made out in a janitor's closet?" He steps closer, pulling you towards him,

You can't help but blush at his question, a mixture of surprise and curiosity bubbling inside you.

His boldness always catches you off guard. But as tempting as the idea sounds, you try to maintain your compostire, aware of the potential consequences. "Jungkook, we can't just-"

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips find yours once again, interrupting your protests with a kiss. In that moment, all rationality drifsts away as desire takes over.

Eventually, the need for air pulls you both back to reality, as you catch your breath, a small smirk tugs at the corners of Jungkook's lips. "See? Sometimes it's worth taking a little risk," he whispers with satisfaction.

"You're impossible," you mutter, unable to hide the smile on your face.

Irene's heels echoed through the studio, the sharp clacking sounds against the polished marble floor. She nonchalantly popped a gum bubble, her eyes scanning the various rooms in search of the right one. Spotting her sister, Joy, engrossed in her phone, Irene let out a small sigh.

"Yo, sis! Let's bounce. I've got a dick appointment lined up once I drop you off," she muttered, jingling the keys in her hand and waiting for her sister to join her.

Joy frowned, tucking her phone into her pocket and grabbing her bag. "Wait, I thought Mom was picking me up," she said, confusion on her face as she walked towards her sister.

Irene rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth curling into a sarcastic smile. "Change of plans, i guess," she replied dismissively, eyeing Joy from head to toe. "Nice tutu," she scoffed before strutting off, not bothering to wait for Joy to catch up.

Bit irene's jaw practically hits the floor when she catches sight of Jungkook strolling around the corner, hand in hand with someone whos outfit looks very familiar to her sisters.

Her eyebrows shoot up, and she quickens her pace, determined to catch up with you. With a stupid smirk, she grabs hold of Jungkook's wrists and teases, "Jungkookie, how adorable! So, you're picking up your sister too?"

Chewing her gum with a playful grin, Irene looks up at Jungkook, seemingly unfazed by his intimidating presence.

Meanwhile, your eyes meet Joy's, both of you wearing puzzled expressions, before shifting your gaze back to Irene, who still has her hand on your boyfriend's.

"You're Joy's sister?" you inquire, offering a friendly smile to Irene, hoping to clear up the tension. However, instead of a warm response, you receive a judging glare from her. "Yeah, whatever," she mutters dismissively.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed by Irene's behavior, and scans her from head to toe, taking in her shabby outfit.

"Oh? So, she's your cousin then?" Irene continues her interrogation

Quickly correcting her assumption, you speaknup with a bright smile, "No, actually, Jungkook is my boyfriend." The words slip out confidently

Irene momentarily stops chewing her gum, her eyes judging your appearance from head to toe. With a burst of laughter, she mocks, "That's the girl? Seriously? You've been leaving practice early for... her?" The sound of her laughter makes your brows furrow in confusion.

What was wrong with the way you looked?

"Irene, enough," Jungkook interrupts, his voice dripping with anger. He tightens his grip on your hand, his face agitated.

Without wasting another moment, he starts walking out, with you hand in hand, slamming the entrance door shut behind him with you.

As you step outside, the fresh air hits your face. Jungkook squeezes your hand reassuringly, breaking the silence. "Don't pay attention to her," he says, his voice soft yet determined, as if trying to shield you from Irene's hurtful words.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, you find yourself about to ask what the actual fuck just happened, but his words stop you in your tracks.

"She's one of the girls that goes to my gym, don't mind her, I've never-" he starts "I didn't have sex with her or anything" he finishes, "I promise."

You nod slowly, your lower lip involuntarily pouting as you stare at the ground. "Why was she so mean to me?" you murmur, feeling a wave of hurt wash over you.

In that moment, you release Jungkook's hand, your fingers no longer intertwined with his.

Jungkook lets out a sigh, his expression softening as he reaches up to brush away a stray strand of hair from your face. "Irene's friend has been trying to make a move on me," he explains, his voice tinged with frustration. He then cups your chin gently, lifting your gaze to meet his. "But you know I would never cheat on you, right?" he asks earnestly, his eyes searching for yours.

You take a moment to absorb his words, looking into his eyes. "Of course I know that, Kookie. I trust you completely. It was just... very sudden." Your words are laced with irritation, as you remind yourself that Irene's words should mean anything to you

Feeling a sense of relief, Jungkook pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he always did. "Shes a mean girl" he murmurs, his voice filled with spite. "I'm sorry you had to go throug that, that's the reason I don't... I don't mention you around the gym, the poeple there... they can be harsh" he admits poking your rib to cheer you up.

"Please, don't ever think I'm damn embarrassed of you or anything like that," Jungkook says, his voice filled with sincerity. He steps back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, his gaze unwavering. "You're my girl, and I'm gonna do whatever it takes to keep you safe and sound."

His words wash over you, and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you take in the sincerity behind his words. The weight on your shoulders seems to lighten just likebthat.

Wrapping your arms around Jungkook, you lean into his embrace, resting your head against his chest. "I know"

SERIES MASTERPOST

@kooliv @sexymenandcuteanimals101 @tatyhend @idontevenknow75 @dunixxd @saweetspoiled @codeinebelle @telepathytae @faepurity @koobsessed @jooniesxbby @bebejungkook @sxtaep @janedukiesworld @outro-kook @grasstrainerjoonie @ziko @jungshook7 @zerocge @dodoneck @beahonomo @jiimtaee @nervoustyphoonpersona @fan-ati--c @koobsessed @nucleo-bang-tan @sincerelyflora @lil-sracha @sweetonkookieandtae @exactlygreatcoffee @hoseokteardrop @aeonianamour @chaelvrx @genkima @gamer-carat @seokjinspinkslipper @kelsyx33 @loveejkk

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 2: Dolls

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (Work In Progress!)

Synopsis: Lady Aemma brings a new child into the world—you. As the second daughter of Prince Viserys, soon to be King, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon.

Hello! My apologies for the wait. There was a whole mess of stuff that killed my drive to write for a few days. BUT, I’ve managed to write this one, featuring baby!Babey as a POV character! I’ve tried hard to keep it in a ‘small person’ voice, which got real old real fast, lol. Keep in mind that she’s around 3 years old in this one, so she’s not hella mature or anything. My thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ for reading this asshole over, lol.

TRIGGERS: child doing child things, child narrating Episode 1 of HotD, character death.

Keep reading

Perzys se Rūkla (Fire and Flowers) - Masterlist

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x OFC (Melessa Tyrell) Warnings: Smut, angst.

Synopsis: When Daemon returns to King's Landing for the first time in fifteen years he sets his sights on his nephew Aemond's betrothed, Melessa. The trouble with happy endings though, is that they rarely work out when deep down you feel you don't deserve one...

Moodboard by the wonderfully talented @ruby-dragon

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six (FINAL)