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ethereal-blossom · 4 years ago

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req for Dazai (and Chuuya too, if u dont mind💜) accidentally scaring their s/o (how u wanna do this is up to u. it can be in an argument, sustaining an injury after a battle) in like, an angsty way pls? ty hehe xx 🍒

a/n: dudeee i have been so excited for this request! i hope this was enough angst🙈 hope you enjoy, mon cherie!

warning: cursing

dazai word count: 1k+ whoops?

chuuya word count: 804

"hm, are you sure it's going to work?" you asked your significant other.

dazai let out a soft chuckle in response. "when did one of my plans ever fail?" he had your there. still, you couldn't help but feel a nervous feeling in your stomach. dazai had been more distant lately. you tried looking into his warm eyes, but instead you met an emotional wall.

you gathered the courage to ask further. nevertheless, kunikda was ahead of you. "let's go, dazai. it's your fault that we're already behind schedule."

dazai planted a kiss on your hand as goodbye. he followed kunikda exiting the room. the fact that your significant other didn't say any words to you as goodbye left a bitter taste in your mouth. what was dazai up to?

your fingers slid across the keys of your keyboard. the report you had been working on was taking forever. however, it was the only thing that helped you getting distracted from dazai. although, your heart couldn't help but skip a beat every time a door opened, or if a phone rang.

someone stood before your desk. “is something wrong, y/n?”

you stopped typing and looked up to atsushi. you answered: "i don't really know. do you mind if i- it's dazai. did you notice something peculiar about dazai lately?"

“yes, now you say so. he has been more distant, but i figured it was because of the mission kunikida and he are working on. did something happen between the two of you?”

“oh no, no it isn’t that. i’m just a bit concerned about dazai, that’s all. dazai is not reckless, but he-”

“he does whatever needs to be done to get the results,” atsushi finished your sentence.

“yes, exactly.”

there's one important rule that everybody must follow: you do not talk about the devil when your back is turned.

the president walked out of his office and he looked at you and atsushi. the words that rolled over his lips were the cause of your rapid heartbeat. dazai had gotten stuck in the line of fire and he got hit by a bullet. the risk of bringing him to the armed detective agency had been too big. kunikida had to take him to the hospital.

“mister president, could i please get permission to visit dazai?”

only a simple nod was needed for you to run out of the building, followed by atsushi.

your significant other was sitting on a hospital bed with his legged crossed. an easeful smile rested on his face when you entered the room. kunikida sat on the chair beside his partner. he looked up from his notebook and said: “good, you made it here with the brat. as you can see, the bullet didn’t cause too much damage.”

dazai pouted in response. “that doesn’t mean the pain is any less. make it stop, kunikida-kunnn.”

“then you shouldn’t have been that dumb to tease an armed man!”

“and lose the opportunity to find out their hiding base?"

you clenched your fists. this is what you meant. this is exactly what you had meant. “kunikida and atsushi, could i please be alone with dazai for a few minutes?”

the two men shared a look and obediently left the room. the smile on dazai’s face vanished. “i know you’re mad at me.”

“of course i am! don’t you think for a second that i didn’t realize how you purposely got shot. what were you thinking dazai?”

“it wasn’t directly my plan to get shot. however, i knew it was a possibility.”

“and you decided to close me out. you decided to let me in the dark. do you know how worried i have been? did you even care?”

“of course i know, y/n. and of course i care. i know you. and i knew you would have stopped me if you got the chance.”

your eyes burned like flames while pressing your lips on each other tightly.

dazai said your name, but you looked away and folded your arms before your chest.

it didn’t stop dazai from calling out your name again. this time, he reached out to you with his healthy arm. and this time you stepped back.

your significant other clenched his jaw while he felt like something was choking his heart. he had never seen you this hurt or angry. “y/n, i know you are mad, but closing yourself off from me isn’t going to benefit the situation.”

you turned around so dazai wouldn’t see the silent tears rolling over your cheeks. “i’m mad because i’m hurt. and i’m hurt because you got hurt.”

dazai’s eyes widened and he felt his jaw dropping. he was relieved that you couldn’t see the shock on his face. it was a vulnerability dazai seldom showed. but it would be worth it, because you were worth everything.

he stood up and took a step into your direction. however, you had already heard him move. ”sit down, idiot,” you said and gently pushed him back on bed. “i just said i was hurt because you were hurt and then you’re going to do something that hurt you more? do you enjoy seeing me hurt, dazai?”

dazai couldn’t help the small smile from making an appearance on his face. “no, but i enjoy your warmth, your love. y/n, i apologize for my behavior- i’m still getting used to having someone in my life who is worth living for. but i figured out something very important. come closer,” dazai said and waved at you.

you came closer. the information that he had collected had to be worth it.

dazai whispered in your ear. “i’m an idiot who is hopelessly in love with you.”

a laugh was trying to come to the surface. however, you decided to tease the man who had scared you. “you think i forgive that easily?”

dazai pouted. “i’m sorry, deeply sorry. what can i do to make it up to you?” he rested his hand on your cheek. dazai lifted one corner of his mouth up and looked up right into your eyes.

“i heard a kiss can make the pain go away.”

“then i need to kiss you a lot.” and with that, dazai brought your face closer to his and tenderly brushed his lips against yours.

chuuya.

he was the first person you thought of when you heard a door open. the clock had already struck midnight, but that didn’t say anything. chuuya had been working overtime for the last couple of days. it was the reason why the spot next to you on the bed was empty.

should you stay awake to see chuuya or should you fall back to sleep again? you decided to go for the second option after you heard whispering. if chuuya was on the phone with work it was useless to stay up. all those thoughts faded when you realized something: that wasn’t your significant other’s voice.

even your heart seemed to stop beating to hear the voices better. you could recognize at least three different voices. and like that your heartbeat started to speed up. chuuya. where was chuuya? where was your phone? wait- was the door of the bedroom locked?

this was one of the best secured penthouses in yokohama. did those men know you were there? okay y/n, move. even if it feels like your blood turned into ice- for the love of god, move. you tiptoed your way towards the door and locked it. the sound felt awfully loud in the midst of the silent night. the voices stopped. immediately you ran to the bathroom that was connected with the bedroom. you locked yourself up and called your chuuya.

voicemail. voicemail. voicemail .voicemail. voicemail.

“why is this door locked?” a deep voice asked.

“do you think he has a partner or anything?” you were doomed.

“well, that port mafia scum is obviously busy. unless this is a room he really wants to keep hidden, somebody must be home.” so doomed.

voicemail. voicemail. voicemail. voice-

“babe? what’s going on? i’m a little bit busy.”

oh, how you could cry hearing your significant other’s voice. in your softest voice you explained what was going on. curse words came from the other line at the same time a loud crack was heard. the voices sounded closer, a lot closer.

“y/n, stay on the line. shit, i’m on my way.” by the sound of the wind and the sound of crushing objects you could tell chuuya wasn’t moving like any other ordinary person. maybe you would have thought that the image of a red glowing man in the night sky looked beautiful, but not now.

the sound of a knock filled your ears. “well, look at that. the door is locked.” the man chuckled. “you want to hear my theory? i think the scums little lover is hidden in the bathroom, absolutely defenseless. don’t you agree with me, kitten?”

you could hear chuuya’s growl in your ear. his voice went over in a high pitched sound.

please, you thought, tell me please that i’m not imagining hearing chuuya’s voice outside-

the door opened, but before anything could happen it was followed by crushing glass. the men covered their heads with their hands. they didn’t realize they would stare into the eyes of their biggest fear if they would look up.

chuuya stood in the bedroom surrounded by a red glow. a shiver went down your spine. never ever had you seen your significant other so pissed. that aura of his was so- powerful.

one of chuuya’s eyes shone brightly red and his head was tilted. his first instinct was to see if you were unharmed. after he assured that you were physical okay he made sure that the men who had dared to break into his penthouse would see black. chuuya was painting heavily when he knocked them all out; not from effort, but the fear of losing you, seeing you in pain.

the port mafia member rushed towards the bathroom. there he saw you sitting on the floor with your head hidden between your knees. “y/n, shit. are you okay?” chuuya knelt down before you and he put his hands on your shoulders.

a deep sigh left your lips, followed by his name.

“i’m here. you don’t have to be scared anymore. i’m here.”

still you didn’t move. a sudden thought struck chuuya. this was the first time you saw him using his ability like that- “y/n? are you- are you scared of me?”

chuuya’s voice got your attention. it was much higher than usual and- had he been clenching his teeth? you finally lifted your head to look your significant other in the eyes which seemed to hide tears. “no. i mean, i was a little bit scared seeing you in action. but-” words couldn’t explain how much you loved this man. so, you fell into his arms and kissed him.

chuuya sighed in relieve.

“just pick up the damn phone a little bit sooner, will you?” you half seriously joked.

chuuya chuckled and hugged you a little bit tighter. he would.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #bsd x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #Dazai Osamu #chuuya nakahara #mon cherie

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bigskydreaming · 4 years ago

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I am once more begging people, BEGGING, to at least READ Batman #416 if you’re going to cite every moment of Dick meeting Jason and then blowing up at Bruce, except in a totally ‘that’s not at all how it happened’ kinda way.

If I have to read ONE MORE sizzling hot take about how Dick blew up at Bruce and stormed off at the end of that encounter, when THIS is how it ACTUALLY ended....

Ah yes, the famous Dick Grayson temper, better described as ‘someone else loses their shit at Dick and fandom twists it into the exact opposite so he’s actually the bad guy all along.’

Was Dick heated before that point? Yup. Did he have reason to be? Also yup. Did Bruce, however, have reason to be heated that Dick had the gall to be coming back to his childhood home to confront him about the fact that after eighteen months of not speaking, when Bruce is the one who CHOSE to not even say goodbye to Dick or make any effort to still make a place for Dick in his life after firing him, with the only possible indication in all that time through which Dick was expected to come up with even an INKLING that Bruce missed him was discovering from reading the paper that Bruce had given his old mantle to a new, even younger partner? Its gonna be a big fat NOPE from me, guys.

There’s an exchange between them a few pages before this that always resonated with me....

Bruce: The truth is, I taught you everything I could. It was time for you to step out on your own.

Dick: So you figured the best thing for you to do was drive me out of your life, right? That’s exactly what you do to anyone who gets too close. Always hurt them before they have a chance to hurt you. It didn’t matter to you that I didn’t have any life other than the one we shared.

Like, I can not express any more clearly why it drives me so B-A-N-A-N-A-S to see people spin this so that it was Bruce that was somehow the victim of his son’s tempestuous, nomadic ways. Like he was somehow left behind, that Dick outgrew him or moved on, and everything Dick felt about Robin after the fact was him throwing spoiled temper tantrums that someone dared pick up something he no longer wanted. Umm. No times infinity and beyond.

Bruce was the one with all the power. Bruce was the one making all the choices. All Dick had, at most, was the choice to either stay somewhere Bruce seemed intent on driving him away from, or go somewhere else. This issue clearly expressed that like. Bruce wasn’t open to talking. Not when he fired Dick as Robin, there was no negotiating that, and even throughout this whole encounter here, where Dick comes here and says “I think you owe me some explanations” because based on everything Bruce was doing and how radically opposed those actions are to the last interactions he and Bruce had, which had a HUGE impact on Dick’s life, yes, he WAS owed explanations here, make no mistake....even here, Bruce spends the whole encounter acting like he’s being unfairly interrogated, like its trying his patience to even have to deal with Dick being there at all....

Phones work two ways, Bruce. There’s two people in this dynamic. If you haven’t heard from Dick in eighteen months, its equally true that he hasn’t heard from you in eighteen months. And if you missed him so damn much, you know what was always a perfectly valid way to express that, which DIDN’T involve anyone else? Picking up the damn phone and calling Dick and telling him that.

Bruce acts like that was never even an option, like HE was the one stuck with limited choices based on Dick’s behavior throughout all this time, and that’s just flat out, unconditionally, one hundred percent, NOT TRUE. Bruce was the one in charge. The one calling the shots. The one with the resources, the power, the authority. Dick was ALWAYS the one who had more to lose, of the two of them.

And Bruce knew all this when he took Dick in. He knew all this when he took Robin away from Dick while the latter was still a teenager, still living at home. And he was the one who failed to even so much as OFFER Dick an alternative take on how he could still be there, still be in Bruce’s life, part of his family, still share in being part of his life, the life the two of them had shared, now that Bruce had made the choice that Dick no longer had the option of living out his part of that life in the manner they’d BOTH built up for him originally.

And yet for so many years, fandom has added insult to injury by acting like the cherry on top here, Bruce giving away the very mantle he took from Dick, like this was somehow completely reasonable because in comparison, Dick is the one being unreasonable. People completely gloss over that little act of Bruce’s to focus instead on how Dick reacted, instead of giving that betrayal of trust its own fair due and focus, and the problem is....they don’t even actually focus on how Dick actually acted! Again, notice it was Dick who approached Bruce, and Bruce who told Dick to leave. It was Dick who had actual cause to be angry, but Bruce who blew up and broke shit because Dick dared demand answers.

And this is the way Dick leaves things with Jason, btw. I know people know this part by now, mostly at least, about the phone number and such, but how many people have actually SEEN how that played out rather than just heard it summarized in a dry recitation of events that underplays just how that interaction went?

Like, that wasn’t just Dick acting like this was being FORCED upon him and bleeding reluctance at every turn. He went above and fucking beyond to make Jason feel welcomed and secure in his position as Robin. But that’s not how the narrative goes in fandom, is it? Even when acknowledging this part, people act like Dick was at most doing the bare minimum, instead of acknowledging that Dick didn’t owe anyone this at all. No, it wasn’t Jason’s fault he became Robin, but NONE of this was Dick’s fault, Dick’s choice, or Dick’s RESPONSIBILITY. He wasn’t living at home, in Bruce’s life, and he wasn’t adopted yet let alone even still Bruce’s ward at this point. He’d aged out at eighteen. Dick had NO actual ties to Bruce and by extension Jason at this particular moment in time, and thus no ACTUAL obligations to either of them, no matter how much fandom harps on him having failed Jason as a brother back during this time when more accurately, Bruce was actively failing Dick as a father - as in not even being one, but Dick’s responsibilities towards a family he didn’t have at the moment are supposed to be still intact? NOPE. Don’t think so.

But Dick, INSTEAD, puts Jason FIRST, puts him OVER his obviously hurt and bitter feelings to focus on what’s best for Jason here, and gives him literally everything he CAN to do right by Jason here. He gives Jason his own old costume and clear approval, cementing Jason’s place as Robin in a way not even Bruce could when giving it to Jason, because it was never Bruce’s to actually pass on. Jason even wonders earlier in the issue if Dick might want his old role back, and Dick puts that fear to rest, without any hesitation or doubt.

In addition, Dick offers up support and solidarity he doesn’t owe Jason, doesn’t owe anyone, because its HIS time, HIS support, its not something someone can take for granted and yet too many people do....especially considering that in the hyper-fixation on how much support and time Dick supposedly DIDN’T offer or grant Jason, most people pay next to no attention to the fact that it wasn’t like Dick was being given time or support by Bruce, ie Dick is going out of his way to offer stuff he’s not even getting himself, because he RECOGNIZES from that what its like not to have it. Basically what I mean is all that talk about Dick being a hypocrite for doing to others what he complains about Bruce not doing for him? Patently untrue, as we see here, because this is Dick actively acting upon what he’s missing out on by making sure that others don’t miss out on it because of Bruce’s failings or emotional repression.

And look at the end result.....Jason’s enjoying his teamup with Dick, these aren’t two people who look pained at being forced into proximity or acting like the other is a burden to be around or thinking the other doesn’t really want to be here. They were comfortable from practically the word go, because Dick knows how to make people uncomfortable but he also knows how to make people comfortable, and he made the CHOICE, the INTENT to make sure he was someone Jason felt WANTED to be there with him, the complete opposite of someone who is taking out their bitterness or resentment on their replacement or at least not trying to hide it very well.

So my question is.....what the hell else is it people wanted Dick to do? When they cite this issue specifically, at least, when they talk about the time Dick went to Gotham to confront Bruce about Robin, when they talk about the phone number or the costume or the teamup or the things that so often get mentioned in passing like they’re insignificant or the bare minimum or mere formalities that do nothing to take away from all the supposed OTHER asshole behavior that Dick allegedly heaped on Jason despite never actually happening anywhere, even a little bit, and thus that some people claim is just an extrapolation of how Dick PROBABLY acted off the page, given his clear resentment and jealousy....umm. Huh? Based off THIS? Seriously, I mean it. What ELSE was Dick supposed to have done, to counter that take, what else could he POSSIBLY have done to do right by Jason here, that he didn’t actually already do? What exactly did people want from this character, in order to not hold this eternal grudge they have against him for what a big old jerk he was to Jason, who did nothing to deserve it - with that part being true at least, and literally WHY Dick made the point to recognize that and not take out his feelings on Jason?

Like, this will never not be an axe for me to grind because like. The SPIN fandom always gives all this, when look at the last page of this issue......Bruce is watching from a distance, and even he’s like thanks Dick, and that honestly bugs me so much. Because in the end, the only one of these three characters who DIDN’T get what he wanted here, was Dick. Jason got the validation and security as Robin he was looking for, the approval of his predecessor, and words of advice and an offer to listen and be there should he ever want to talk. Bruce got Dick’s validation of the actions Bruce took that he had no right to take when giving his old mantle to Jason, but that Dick ratified all the same, even if it was for Jason’s sake and not Bruce’s. Bruce still got the closure on that particular mistake of his, with the evidence that Dick was willing to see past it for Jason’s sake rather than drag it out....like. Dick is the only one who didn’t get what he was looking for there, he didn’t even get an apology from Bruce for overstepping when he passed on Dick’s mantle, an acknowledgment that this was WRONG, the most Dick got was Bruce admitting for a single panel that he missed him.....before telling Dick to leave and get out and effectively taking back anything Dick could have possibly taken away from that admittance. Because what the fuck does it matter if someone misses you if even though they finally have you right there in front of them, they still tell you to leave again anyway?

In conclusion, I hate this issue, lol, because everybody seems to know what’s in it and yet practically nobody ever seems interested in referencing what’s ACTUALLY in it. Instead just forever playing telephone with the most bad faith interpretation of Dick’s actions possible.

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peachyaone · 4 years ago

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angels like you.

pairings: rengoku kyojuro x gn! hashira! reader

warnings: angst and fluff.

A/N: This fic is inspired by "Angels Like You" by Miley Cyrus

plot: in your eyes, he was like an angel. but would an angel ever want someone like you?

You were known as one of the most ruthless hashira's among the others. You killed with no hesitation. People called you a lunatic, heartless or scary when they see you, you always had a prominent frown on your face. And you had no mercy.

But somehow you ended up with Rengoku, the total opposite of what you are.

The two of you met on a mission, you were supposed to eliminate the demon that was terrorizing a village nearby. But an unsuspected Lower Moon attacked when you finished killing the demon.

*flashback*

"Damn it." you thought as you felt a presence behind you, whatever it was, it was reeking with demonic energy. "What do you want with me?" You asked the demon. You turned to look. You saw markings on its eyes. "Lower Moon Three." it read. "Why are you here?" You asked again, your hand on the hilt of your sword. "Lord Muzan wants to speak with you." It said. "Why would the Demon Lord request to speak with a person like me?" Your grip on your sword tightened. You sensed another presence nearby. "They just want to have a conversation with you, no need to get so defensive." The demon teased. "You sent a demon to terrorize a village to get my attention, am I right?" You said.

"Yes, I did. Now, come on. Lord Muzan's patience is wavering by the second." You unsheathed your sword and the tip grazed the demon's neck. "Not another step." you threaten. Your eyes glared daggers into the demon's own. You swore you saw it shiver. "Come on, human. Don't be reckless." It said. "Back down, L/N-san." A bright voice said. Your eyes move to see the tall, golden-haired man approaching you and the demon. "I thought you were on a mission, Rengoku-san," you said. "I was! I finished early and I was on my way back, but my Kasugai crow informed me about the situation you were in, so I stopped by as assistance!"" He said, cheerfully. You turned back to the demon. "Now tell me, why did Muzan want to see me?" You asked, digging your blade harder into its skin. It stayed quiet. "Tell. Me," you said. "L/N-san." You heard Rengoku say. You glared at him, but he seems to be unfazed by your death glare at him. "It's better if you told them. They could get pretty scary when they're mad," He told the demon.

The demon attacked Rengoku, to which he blocked. You moved to attack it. "Breath of Light, Second Form: Shine." You whispered. A bright light shone from your sword as you strike the demon. The demon yelped in pain as your attack burned it. Rengoku pinned it to the ground. "I could burn you. Just like the sun." You said. The demon's eyes widened. "Now tell me." You said. ' H-he wants you to j-join him!" The demon said. "Why?" You asked. The demon didn't know. You sighed and beheaded the demon. You cleaned your sword as you watched its body disintegrated into the air.

You heard shuffling behind you. "L/N-san?" Rengoku asked. You looked at him. "Wanna grab some food before heading back?" He offered. You nodded.

Your relationship bloomed from there.

*Flashback end*

It has been two years since then. You were taking a walk with Shinobu and Mitsuri, waiting for Rengoku to return from his mission. "Hey, L/N. How did someone like you end up with someone like Rengoku?" Mitsuri asked. You looked at her, you knew she was just curious, sometimes she gets too curious for her own good. But her question seems the affect you, so you shrugged. "I have no idea why, Mitsuri-san." You said, eyes looking at the ground. Shinobu patted your shoulder in silent support. She knew how you felt.

You couldn't control your emotions sometimes, that's why you kept up with the facade of not caring, all because you cared too much. You used to be a bright and bubbly person, well until the death of your younger siblings and your father. You were weak, as your father tried his best to protect you and your siblings. But it didn't last long. The demon slayer found you later, covered with your family's blood. You could still hear their screams echoing in your head.

You'd swore to your family that you will kill every single demon that crosses your path, and have your revenge. So you stopped caring, you would try your best not to get too attached. You never attend any events the others would make. You spent all that time training and/or doing missions. That lasted until Rengoku came into your life.

He would slowly coax you out of your shell, you started to attend the birthday parties instead of wishing them with your crow, started to hang out with the others, training with them. You slowly start to open yourself up to them. There are some days where you would go back to your shell, Rengoku was always there to make you feel better. He was your angel.

Why would he do such things for me?

What does he see in a monster like me?

Why does he love me?

Your intrusive thoughts clouded your mind as you kicked some stones on the pathway. You couldn't hear your friends calling you. "L/N-san!" Mitsuri called. You snapped out of your thoughts, looking at her questioningly. She gestured to your estate, which was a few meters away from where you were standing.

There he was, the flame hashira was standing at the entrance of your home. "Rengoku-san!" Shinobu called out. You saw him turn around. He saw you, a bright smile appeared on his face. "Y/N!" He said, rushing over. He stood in front of you. You gave him a small smile, he smiled widened. "Hey, do you mind if I steal them?" He asked. Shinobu and Mitsuri shook their heads, saying their goodbyes before leaving.

"Hey, honey." He greeted you. "Hi." You said. "I missed you!" He said, hugging you softly. You hummed in agreement. "How was the mission?" You asked him, your voice quiet but still hearable. "It went great! We managed to save many people." You nodded. As he talked, you could feel your headspace fading. The thoughts started to come.

He's only with you because he pities you.

You don't deserve to be with him, not after everything thing you've done!

"No! Stop!" You screamed in your head. You held your head in your hands, your eyes squeezed shut. "Hun'?" Rengoku said to you. Bitter tears welled in your eyes as your fingers gripped on your sleeves tightly. You internally hoped that your thoughts could just disappear, you hated them all. You wanted them all gone. You whimpered.

Rengoku’s hand takes yours and your eyes widen as he tugs you into his arms. He held you as his thumbs wiped away your tears. You felt pathetic and weak as you keep a tight hold on his haori. You felt him planting small kisses on your hair and forehead. "Let's get you inside, yeah?" He whispered. You nodded. He lifted you up and carried you into your home.

He sets you down on the futon. Sitting beside you, he pulled you into his lap, cradling your head against his chest as he stroked your hair. "What's going on, darling? What made you so upset?" He asked softly. “I’m a monster, 'Kyo,” you whispered. “I am a heartless, cruel, ruthless monster– why are you with me?!”

“Y/N…”

“I know you don’t agree with me, I mean you are my partner, but fuck, ‘Kyo, you are such an angel! You are the nicest person, you are passionate, kind, beautiful and so damn perfect-” Tears fall down your face and you don’t bother wiping them away as you stare at him. "Why would an angel like you fly down here with me?" you asked. He felt so helpless, you, the love of his life, think so badly about themself? He will never let that happen.

"You are not a monster, Y/N," he said. You looked at him, eyes puffy. "I'm everything they said I am." You said. He kissed you, cutting off your self-deprecating words. "You are not what they say you are." He said. "You are not cruel, heartless, or anything like that! You are an angel too, if they don't think you are, then I'll fight them!" He wiped away your tears. "You've been through so much and they have no right to call you those awful things okay?"

"But Kyojuro-" "No. No backtalk. You are an amazing person, they just don't know you yet." He said with a bright smile. You felt yourself smiling a little. He looked at you in awe, every time you smiled, he would feel so happy that he wants to make you smile every day. "You're so cute, you know that?" He said. You blushed slightly. "Don't mind their words, you're better than that." He said, kissing your head.

"Thank you, Kyojuro." You whispered. "Anytime, Y/N." He whispered back. He held you until you felt better as he reassured you, giving you kisses and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. "Love you 'Kyo." You mumbled, your eyes feeling irritated from crying. You felt light kisses on your eyelids. "Love you too, Y/N!" He said cheerily. You kissed his cheek as you laid your head back on his chest, dozing off.

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku x gn! reader #demon slayer #rengoku kyoujurou #eli writes #kimetsu rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba #rengoku x hashira! reader #gn!reader

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j-amespotter · 4 years ago

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★ august [pt. 2] - s. b.

“i never needed anything more.”

Pairing: Sirius Black x Slytherin!Reader, Regulus Black x Slytherin!Reader

x. x. x.

Summary: As one of the Order of the Phoenix’s freshest recruits, love certainly was not on Sirius Black’s mind the summer after he finished school – especially not with a Slytherin, who just happened to be his brother’s girlfriend.

Genre/Warnings: angst/fluff, infidelity, mentions of torture, war, & sex.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: by popular demand... part 2 of august! let me know what you think & if you’d like to be added to my taglist! posts will be slower because i’m back at uni

masterlist

PART 1

It was a cold, snowy day in the village. The streets bustled with young passersby. They huddled together with flushed cheeks and dopey grins, reveling in their distance from stingy professors and half-written essays. The line for butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks wrapped around the street. The scene was all-too-familiar for the raven-haired troublemaker and his bespectacled companion hidden in a dark alleyway behind the Hog’s Head.

“Think we can sneak to Rosmerta’s for a butterbeer?” asked James, nudging his best friend with his elbow. “She’d let us jump the line.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yes, that would help the whole ‘lying low’ thing, wouldn’t it?”

James raised a concerned eyebrow at Sirius. “I thought you’d be up for it,” he said with an edge in his voice.

“We’re on a mission,” snapped Sirius. “Let’s just hope nothing is waiting for us so we can get out of here.”

“You’re jumpy,” grumbled James in response. “Mate, you didn’t have to come if it was going to bother you.”

“I’m not bothered,” said Sirius defensively. “Focus, Prongs. Suspected Death Eater activity in Hogsmeade Village. We need to wait it out and hope for the best.”

James shrugged, though he looked like he wanted to say more. The two men turned the corner and peered through the window of Dervish and Banges on the lookout for hellish masked figures that were quickly becoming the bane of Sirius’s existence.

It had been four months since the summer Sirius’s life changed. His world lost the little color it had, and unfortunately, his friends were bearing the brunt of his moodiness. Sirius knew it was unfair. It was not James’s fault he was scorned by a cold, conniving snake of a woman, who showed him more love than he knew what to do with and then snatched it away without a second thought.

It was bad enough they were there on a Hogsmeade weekend. He knew you were most likely somewhere in the village, probably in Regulus’s arms, shielding yourself from the cold. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, one he decidedly ignored as he turned to his partner-in-crime. “We should split up,” said Sirius. “Get under the Cloak and keep an eye on the station. I’ll do a walk-through. I’ll call you from the mirror if I see anything.” He gestured to his jacket pocket.

After bidding James goodbye and good luck, Sirius made sure to lay low as he sifted through the snow-covered streets. Though he recognized some of his former classmates, he did not stop to greet them. He was not the type to let his personal life tear his eyes away from the prize. What frightened him was how difficult it was proving to be.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius spotted movement across the hill through the shattered glass window of the Shrieking Shack. Frowning, he pulled up his hood and jogged towards the disturbance.

When he was safely away from the crowd, Sirius crouched behind a bush next to the house, close enough to hear vaguely-familiar voices – at least two. He inhaled a gust of cold air warily, feeling his heartbeat pick up at rapid speed. No one except the four Marauders ever dared to enter the Shrieking Shack. Who could these intruders be if not Death Eaters? Sirius’s fingers grazed the mirror shard tucked away in his pocket. Should he call James for help?

Suddenly, he heard faint, quiet sobs from inside. On instinct, he jerked his body slightly upward and transformed into Padfoot. Taking soft steps forward on four legs, Sirius expertly stepped over a creaky floorboard. He remained hidden in the shadows, facing the back of a tall, skinny figure, whose scent overwhelmed his canine senses with the soiled flavor of repressed memories.

When the stranger spoke, Padfoot winced at the tauntingly grim echo in his eardrums. “Stop crying, darling. It’s pathetic,” said Regulus.

“H-How could you just…” you said nasally, unable to finish. Sirius felt his heart sink as he heard your broken, empty words. It was your voice that haunted his dreams, and there you were, looking cold and miserable, merely ten feet away from him.

“You’re wasting your tears, (Y/N). She’s filth. She deserved it.”

You looked indignant, raising an accusatory finger at your boyfriend. “N-No one deserves torture for who they are,” you said shakily.

Regulus sighed. “Honestly, you’re acting as if we killed her. She’ll be fine. Besides, I didn’t do anything to her. If I knew it would have bothered you, I wouldn’t have stayed.”

“You just watched, Reg! You watched your dreadful friends torture that poor girl! Why? Because she’s Muggleborn? Why didn’t you let me stop them?”

“They did stop,” answered Regulus heatedly. “They stopped for you. You should be more careful. If it weren’t for me, they would be spreading some nasty rumors about you. If I didn’t know any better, I would call you a blood traitor.”

You scoffed. Sirius, still in dog form, shuffled to the side and hid under a scratched table. Emotions were high, so his swift movement remained unnoticed.

Regulus strode toward you and placed his gloved hands on your shoulders. “Forgive me, (Y/N). I know how sensitive you can get.”

You sniffled. “It’s not about being sensitive, Regulus. It’s about right and wrong! You know they would have killed her, you know it! The worst part is that you would have let them, and it doesn’t even surprise me anymore.”

“What has gotten into you? I know you prefer to stay away from conflict, but you’ve been skittish for quite a while now,” said Regulus, dropping his hands off of you.

You were quiet. With one glance at your glossy eyes, Sirius knew what was going to happen before it did. “I have to tell you something. I did something bad.”

The selfish part of Sirius wanted this. He wanted exactly this. But there was a sinking feeling in his chest, seeing it happen right before his eyes. He attempted to telepathically will you to stop talking, but it was too late. Regulus stared at you expectantly.

“Last summer I… I was with someone else. I cheated on you, Reg,” you cried.

Sirius’s normally-reserved brother could not contain the shock dripping from his voice. “What?”

“Regulus, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I swear!”

“How could you?” snapped Regulus. “I let you stand here and scold me over my activities as if you have the moral high ground between us! You had an affair? With whom?”

You looked pained. “Don’t make me say it, Reg. Just know how sorry–”

“With whom?”

“W-With your brother, Regulus. With Sirius.” His name sounded like a melody on your tongue. Sirius held his breath, swallowing the emotion pooling inside of him.

“What? My brother? You had an affair with my brother?” Regulus looked as though he was about to strike. Sirius bent his front legs, ready to pounce. “Did you sleep with him?”

You turned away, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Did you sleep with him?”

You nodded slowly. It was as if you were carrying the weight of a thousand bricks.

Regulus ran his hand through his hair. He paced the length of the room, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Okay,” he said after a tense silence, “we can fix this. I don’t blame you; I know how my brother is. You can be so gullible. He tricked you into sleeping with him. I was away for so long. You were upset. I can forgive you. We can move past this.”

You stared up at him, wild-eyed. “W-We can?”

“Yes, we can,” said Regulus. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I forgive you.”

“I don’t think I can,” you said slowly, lifting your eyes to gaze directly into his.

“What do you mean?”

You wiped away your tears hastily. “I tried so hard, Reg. I tried so hard to forget him, but I can’t. I’m in love with him.”

Sirius nearly yelped in giddy shock. She’s in love with me. (Y/N) loves me, not him. She loves me, not him, and he knows.

Regulus had an unreadable expression on his face. “You’re in love with him? So all those years between us, they mean nothing to you?”

“Not at all,” you argued. “I love you so much, Reg. But you aren’t the same anymore. You’re hurting me.”

“Don’t you dare blame this on me,” said Regulus angrily. “You did this! You’re the one that slept with my brother!”

“I’m telling you, it’s not like that! It wasn’t just sex. I went to him for help. I went to him for you,” you said. “It wasn’t on purpose. I never meant to hurt you. But I can’t pretend anymore. I’m in love with him.”

Regulus was seething in a characteristically quiet way. “My brother,” he spat, “cares for no one but himself. I am sure you two will be perfect for each other. We are done.” With that, he spun around and walked out of the Shrieking Shack, slamming the door behind him.

You fell on your knees, sobbing into your hands. Your soft whimpers broke Sirius’s heart into pieces. He poked his head out from under the table and pawed his way toward you. You looked up and gasped in fright. Sirius had forgotten about Padfoot’s unnaturally large size. Gently, he nudged your leg with his snout. “Sorry, you had to see all of that.” You buried your face into your knees. “Are you the big, bad wolf in this joint?”

Before he could combust at your innocence, Sirius jerked upward again and balanced himself on two feet. “Nope, but he’s a friend of mine,” he joked softly.

Your head snapped up. You jumped in complete surprise. “Sirius! What are you doing here?” You stared at a spot on the ground. “Are you an Animagus?”

“To answer your second question, yes,” said Sirius hurriedly, wanting more than anything to skip the small talk, “and to answer your first, this is almost like a second home to me. How did you know about the wolf?”

You looked at him in awe, then shriveled backward in shame. “Severus Snape spread some awful rumors when you all were at school.” You couldn��t meet his eyes. “Sirius…”

Sirius took tentative steps toward you. “No more lies,” he whispered. “Are you really in love with me?”

You stared into his grey eyes. “Yes,” you said in a hushed whisper. “I’m in love with you, Sirius. And I’m so sorry about what I said that day. I was scared. I know it’s no excuse, but it’s the truth.”

In an instant, Sirius felt warmth rush up his body. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you without a second thought. To his utter delight, you kissed him back hungrily. Your arms wrapped around his waist, inhaling his musky scent. “I never stopped thinking about you,” he whispered against your lips.

You smiled sadly. “Me neither. But how can we possibly be together?”

“Well, you’ll be home for Christmas soon,” said Sirius.

“That’s only for a few weeks,” you argued.

Sirius kissed your cheek. “It’s plenty of time. Plus, I can get into the castle whenever I want.”

You looked skeptical. “How?”

“I have my ways,” said Sirius. “I’m never letting you go again.”

You felt tears prick at your eyes. “How am I supposed to go back? To face all of them again?”

“They wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you, not under the teachers’ noses,” said Sirius, mostly to assure himself. “Stay away from Regulus, too.”

“Easier said than done,” you said. “They dragged some poor Muggleborn third-year here just to torture her. You don’t even know what they get up to at school.”

Sirius pulled you into a tight embrace. He felt a tingle in his jacket. Pulling out the shard, he met a very familiar pair of hazel eyes. “Is everything okay? Did you find anything?” asked James.

Sirius pulled away from you. “Yes, everything’s fine. I've searched the whole village. It was just a few Slytherin sixth-years, but they’re gone now. I’ll meet you there.”

With a nod, James vanished.

You tugged on his sleeve. “What was that? You have to go?”

Sirius made a motion to pocket the mirror, glancing at it thoughtfully before doing so. After a quick moment, he shoved it in your direction. “Here, keep this. It’s a way for you to call me at school. Whenever you need me, don’t hesitate.”

You paused. “Are you sure? What about James?”

“He won’t mind,” assured Sirius. “Promise me you’ll use it. Even if you only want to talk.”

Smiling, you pulled him into another kiss. “Definitely.”

Sirius feared letting go, though he wasn’t afraid you would walk away again. He wasn’t sure what his brother and his friends would do. “I’ll see you soon, love. Don’t worry too much. You’re Sirius Black’s girl.”

“That I am, darling. For as long as I can help it.”

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly @mads-bri @she-seeks-magic @sarcasticallywitty15 @lunalovecroft @fific7 @lindatreb @u-no-poo @justmesadgirl

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Seven times someone spoke to a Marauder alone in a portrait and one person who spoke to them all together

In a world where all the Marauders died in the first war, their souls are preserved in portraits in Hogwarts. Their stories are legend if a bit tweaked, and their names are famous if a bit forgettable. But they were painted individually, and housed all over the castle, separated for all eternity from each other.

(Also, there are seven Marauders because Lily, Severus, and Regulus. Fight me.)

(FOR CONTEXT: Regulus married a Muggle named Amir and had a daughter with him named Hailee. Regulus and Sirius never fell out and Regulus calls Remus “Mum” because reasons. Sirius and Remus married and died without children and James and Lily had Harry with their partner, Severus. Peter had a nonbinary partner named Max, but they died in the war.)

ONE: Regulus Black (Room of Requirement) & Draco Malfoy [Second Year - Youth (Daughter)]

Draco is coming back from Quidditch practice after calling Hermione a Mudblood. He’s walking alone down a hallway empty of doors when one suddenly materializes in front of him. He walks inside, too curious not to, and finds a room with two chairs in front of a crackling fire.

Over the fire hangs a portrait of a young man with pale skin, ebony hair, and striking grey eyes. Draco sits down in one of the chairs and picks up the cup of hot cocoa from the coffee table, looking up at the portrait, which has now started moving.

“Who are you?” He asks, and the portrait shoots him a grim look.

“My name is Regulus Black. Do you know who I am?”

Draco shakes his head. Regulus hums, tugging at something around his wrist.

“I’m a Death Eater who defied Voldemort,” he says, pulling his sleeves up to reveal a blank wrist. “They didn’t paint me with that wretched Mark, thank Merlin.”

Draco puts his cocoa down, nervous, and finds his eyes darting around the room for a door.

“How do I get out of here?” He asks with all the politeness he can muster, and Regulus offers him a wry smile.

“Right through that door,” he says gently, pointing to the door now etching itself out of the wall. “But please remember, Draco - you make your own choices in life. You decide who you are. Not a House, not a name, not a Mark. You. Do not forget that like I did.”

Draco nods, backing towards the door.

“But you defected,” he says, feeling small. Regulus smiles sadly, his eyes cutting.

“Yes, I did. And I paid for it with my life. And the life of my partner, and my daughter, and my brother and my mum and my best friends. I paid, Draco. I’m still paying.”

Draco has his hand on the door knob. “Huh,” he says, and opens the door when Regulus adds, “Oh, and Draco, dear? Don’t call people Mudbloods. There’s no such thing. And it’s rude.”

Draco nods frantically and closes the door so hard he lands flat on his ass in the hallway, watching the door seal itself and fade back into stone.

TWO: James Potter (Gryffindor Quidditch “Hall” of Fame, Gryffindor Common Room) & Seamus Finnigan [Fourth Year - Never Not (Lauv)]

Seamus finds himself alone in the Gryffindor common room one Wednesday morning, pretending to be sick with a cold. He’s wrapped in a blanket and staring into the empty fireplace when he hears, “YO! KID!”

Startled, he falls off the couch, and stumbles up and over to the Quidditch trophy case in the corner. There, in a small frame, is the smiling face of a boy who looks just like Harry, except without the mark, with dark eyes, and happier. Seamus reads the plaque, James Potter, and smiles sadly, wondering if Harry has ever talked to this portrait before.

James, meanwhile, barrels forward, “You’re the one in love with that lanky black kid, right?” Seamus’ eyes snap up as he sputters, but James just grins. “Cool. I thought so. Can I give you some advice…?”

“Seamus.”

“Can I give you some advice, Seamus?”

Seamus, now bright red, says, “Um, sure?”

James’ eyes twinkle and he says, “Tell him.”

Seamus starts coughing, beating his chest as James laughs and he protests, “No! No, I can’t just tell my best friend I’m in love with him!”

James shrugs. “You can,” he says. “You wanna know a secret?” He leans in just a bit. “My best friends fell in love.”

Seamus startles. “What?” He breathes, and James grins.

“Yeah. Sirius Potter and Remus Lupin. Wasted six bloody years apart before finally giving in and admitting it. They’re the most in love people I’ve ever met.” His brow wrinkles. “Well, except Sev and Lily and me.” It wrinkles further. “Nah, I gotta give ‘em this one.”

Seamus gapes in shock for a moment before blurting, “That werewolf and the Black runaway were in love?! And you - fuck, you were with Severus Snape???” James stares at him for a moment before blinking and then bursting into laughter.

When he finally calms down, he looks back up at Seamus’ flushed face and says, “Sirius is a Potter and a Lupin, not a Black. And he and Remy loved each other more than anything. And yeah, Sev and Lily and I had some real fun times.” He tilts his head in consideration and says, “Actually, now that I think about it, some of those happened right on that couch over there. It’s weird they haven’t gotten a new one, huh?”

Seamus sputters for a third and final time and skitters away with a tomato-red face as James shouts after him, “TELL HIM, KID! SHOVE HIM AGAINST A WALL AND SNOG HIM SENSELESS!”

(Seamus, later, to Harry: “Your dad is fucking wack, bro.”)

THREE: Lily Evans (Library, Restricted Section) & Cedric Diggory [Fourth Year - Someone To You (BANNERS), Good Old Days (Kesha, Macklemore)]

Cedric sneaks into the Restricted Section to hide from all the pressure of the tournament. One night he’s thumbing through the books in his boredom when he finds an unframed portrait of a smiling redhead. As soon as he lifts her out of the book, titled The Marauders: A Complete History of Unfiltered Pranks (by Minerva Mcgonogall for Minerva Mcgonogall, signed by Regulus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Lupin (Love you Minnie!), and Lily Evans), the portrait pipes up, “Hi! I’m Lily!”

Cedric nearly drops the book in shock, but manages to catch it at the last second, mustering up a smile for the grinning portrait and introducing himself. She beams and glances at the book in his hand, her smile turning mischievous. “That’s a good one. We did get up to a lot, didn’t we?”

Speechless, he nods, not really processing that she’s just admitted to being Lily Evans, and her eyes dull with sadness at the sight of one of the injuries on his collarbone from the most recent challenge.

“Where’d you get that?” She asks, and he explains the tournament. She hums, and finally murmurs, “I heard them say my son is in that. Is that true?”

Mouth dry, Cedric nods, and Lily looks up at him again with glassy eyes and rasps, “Can you tell him I love him? That I’m proud of him and so are his fathers? Can you tell him that for me?”

Cedric nods again, hearing a creak and turning his head towards the noise when Lily whispers, “Go. Go, Cedric, before you get caught. Be brave, honey.” Cedric shoves the portrait back into the book and the book back onto the shelf with a muttered goodbye before sprinting away, Lily’s words echoing in his ears like a dying child’s scream.

FOUR: Sirius Black (Mcgonogall’s Office) & Ginny Weasley [Fifth Year - Alone (Bazzi)]

Ginny is sitting in Mcgonogall’s office, waiting for her professor to come and scold her for punching Zabini (he touched Luna’s ass, what was she supposed to do? Ask him to kindly stick his nose up where the sun don’t shine? She’d still be here, and he’d still be snickering like the slimy motherfucker he is in that dungeon cell he calls his bedroom). She hears a cough from somewhere on Mcgonogall’s desk and straightens up, ducking her head to peek around when she hears, “Pssst. Over here.”

She looks over and sees a framed picture of Sirius Black, grinning as if he’d never died. She swallows down her tears and nods her head in a polite hello. Sirius’ smile saddens as he says, “I hear you’re dating my godson.”

Ginny blushes, but nods, and for a moment, Sirius looks like he’s about to cry. “Why are you here, Ginny?” He asks softly, and she shrugs.

“Punched a Slytherin who touched my friend’s ass.”

Sirius grins at that, nodding his head in respect. “Good girl. You ever think about why that is?”

Ginny’s brow furrows and she opens her mouth to ask what he means when she sees his eyes wandering to a sketch of a wolf howling at the moon on Mcgonogall’s far wall, with the note For you, Minnie. Moony didn’t want it. Love, Sirius.

“I fell in love with a boy once,” Sirius murmurs. “My best friend. Remus Lupin. And he loved me back.”

I know, Ginny wants to say. You two were married and gave baby Harry joint Christmas presents and danced in the kitchen when you thought no one else was still awake. I’ve heard the stories, I’ve seen the pictures. I know. But instead she stays quiet, listening as Sirius tells his story.

“But instead of admitting that, I dated Marlene McKinnon for three years. Sold my gay ass out to a lesbian whore because I was too afraid to tell him how I felt about him.” Ginny has a lot of questions about the “lesbian whore” part - “I mean, she was a friend of mine, but I never wanted to kiss her, or sleep with her, but I did anyway. And he looked so fucking sad all the time. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t wanna ruin my happiness. I didn’t know how to tell him that he was my happiness. By the time I figured it out, it was too late.”

Ginny swallows, finally speaking up, “Why are you telling me this?” Sirius finally tears his eyes away from the picture of the wolf and the moon and gives her a bitter smile.

“Because I’m dead and my husband and I spent a mere three years together in all of the ten we knew each other. What kind of bullshit is that?”

Ginny shrugs. “Some bullshit,” she answers, and laughs uncomfortably.

Sirius laughs too, then sighs. He looks deep into her eyes and says, “I love my godson. You make sure he knows that. But I also love my husband. And I spent too damn long running from that. So let me save you a bit of trouble, Ginny - the greatest love is often the scariest.”

Ginny purses her lips. “What are you saying?” She says slowly, and Sirius smiles sadly as Mcgonogall’s heels come clicking down the hall.

“I’m saying maybe you shouldn’t waste your time on Harry when both your and his hearts lie elsewhere.”

Ginny blushes, looking down at the homemade bracelet Luna made her three summers ago, and at the sound of the door opening, she looks back up at a frozen Sirius, whose eyes are caught on Mcgonogall, somehow still twinkling.

FIVE: Peter Pettigrew (Outside Gryffindor Dorms) & Ron Weasley [Fifth Year - lovely (Billie Eilish, Khalid)]

Ron is sulking on the stairs outside the Gryffindor common room after a particularly bad Quidditch loss. He wishes he were with Hermione and Harry, but they were already tangled together when he came upstairs and he didn’t want to intrude, even though they invited him to.

He knows they’re all best friends, he just feels so much like the third wheel sometimes. So he’s sulking when he hears a soft, “Hey.”

He looks up in surprise and sees a portrait of Peter Pettigrew, and he immediately steels his eyes, backing away. Seeing this, Peter shouts, “Wait, no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I know! I just - I didn’t actually betray them, you know? Okay, well, I did, but - but I fixed it! They forgave me! I promise I’m not evil, I’m not, Ron -”

“How do you know my name?” Ron blurts, and Peter jumps back in his frame, startled, then smiles softly.

“They say it,” he answers. “Harry, and that girl you’re always with. They say your name all the time.”

Ron blushes. “Oh,” he says, ducking his head with a smile. When he looks back up into Peter’s sad eyes, he says, “We lost today. Quidditch.”

Peter cocks his head. “To who?”

Ron shrugs, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with his fingers over his knees. “Slytherin. Never lost against Slytherin before.”

Peter shrugs. “James and Sirius did. All the time.”

Ron looks up. “Really?” Peter smiles softly.

“Yeah. Mostly because they wanted Severus and Regulus to feel good, but. Yeah, they lost to Slytherin all the damn time.”

Ron’s smile fades. “Severus? Like, Snape? The Death Eater?”

Peter winces, then shrugs. “The Order spy. But, yeah.”

Ron blinks in shock. “They were friends? Even after Lily?”

Peter’s brow furrows in confusion, but he answers anyway, “Yes? They were dating. Them and Lily. Sent the whole school up in flames.”

Ron’s jaw drops open. “You can do that?”

Peter shrugs. “Yeah, ‘course you can. You can date Harry and that girl if you want. No one’s stopping you.”

Ron flushes, looking down in shame.

“They don’t want me,” he mumbles. “Not the way they want each other.”

Peter hums. “Severus said that too. So did James. They were both idiots.” Looking up at Ron’s glistening eyes and pouting lips, he smiles.

“Just because you’re not the smartest or the strongest or the funniest or the best at anything in particular doesn’t mean you’re not important, or that people don’t care about you.”

Ron nods, slowly. He stands and heads back inside without another word, pretending he doesn’t hear Peter sigh and say, “You’re welcome,” bitterly as he mumbles the password to the Fat Lady and slips back through the crack in the door.

SIX: Severus Snape (Headmaster’s Office) & Hermione Granger [Sixth Year - Ophelia (The Lumineers), O Children (Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds)]

Hermione is visiting Dumbledore’s office for her Prefect badge and an overview of the position while Ron and Harry are brooding in their room. The three of them have become far closer than normal lately, and she’s almost glad to be away for a moment, as they’ve always been more honest with each other when she isn’t around. She can’t decide if that bothers her or not.

She’s waiting for Dumbledore to get there when she hears, “Miss Granger, correct?” in a slow, molasses drawl.

She looks up at the portrait labelled Severus Snape and answers the boy in the Slytherin tie, “Yes. Hello, Mr. Snape.”

Severus grins slowly, a cat-like expression of amusement and carefully calculated arrogance. “Smart one, aren’t you?” He asks, and she nods. He clicks his tongue. “Should’ve been in Ravenclaw.”

She flushes and opens her mouth to retort when the Sorting Hat starts shouting about insecure fuckwads who don’t know their place and Severus starts screaming back about it not doing its fucking job right until finally Hermione screams, “STOP!”

The hat grumbles off to sleep again while she stares a shocked Severus down, her shaking hands curled in fists as she says, “Please don’t shout at it. It’s tired.”

Severus raises an eyebrow, but huffs and turns away. She sees his blank arm as he turns his back to her and feels her heart break open with pity.

“You’re Harry’s father, right?” She asks softly, and his head whips towards her in shock. She offers a sad smile and explains, “Lily and James. There are no records, of course, but…”

“You’re Mcgonogall’s favorite,” Severus finishes, smiling wryly. “Yes. I am one of Harry’s fathers.”

Hermione nods, looking down at her books, and swallows before looking back up again to say, “He really loves you.”

Severus rears back in shock, his eyes searching her for lies as she tears up. “He really does. You may not know it, and he doesn’t speak of it, but - but I can tell. He misses you.”

Severus’ eyes turn dull and glassy and he turns away, hiding his face with his long shaggy hair. Hermione swallows down her tears, smiling again. “Yes, well -”

“I love him too,” Severus interrupts, voice soft. “I miss him too. We all do. Tell… tell him that, would you?”

Hermione blinks, then nods.

“Of course,” she says, ducking her head as the staircase starts to rumble. “I’ll take good care of him, sir.”

Severus smiles that sad wry smile again and stills just as Dumbledore steps through the door, but Hermione hears his silence echo in her ears.

Thank you.

SEVEN: Remus Lupin (Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom) & Luna Lovegood [Seventh Year - Dynasty (MIIA), Towards The Sun (Rihanna)]

As the war comes closer and closer to Hogwarts, the students there grow more and more anxious. Luna herself takes refuge in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where only Harry and Ginny know to find her. But with Harry on the run with Ron and Hermione and Ginny trying to hold down the fort with Seamus and Dean, Luna often finds herself alone.

One day she decides to make her way up onto the balcony over the classroom that leads to the office, and she reaches for the knob on the office door when she hears, “Don’t go in there, Miss Lovegood.”

She looks over at the portrait who’s spoken, dubbed Remus Lupin, and smiles. He smiles kindly back and asks, “What are you even looking for?”

Luna shrugs. “Some way to help, I guess.”

Remus smiles wryly and nods, glancing down at the wedding ring adorning his finger. His smile softens for a moment before he says, “Sometimes, Miss Lovegood, the best way to win a war is by treating others with kindness.”

Luna tilts her head to the side. “Like, with hugs and smiles?” She asks, and Remus smiles, biting his lip and nodding. His eyes are glassy, but she pretends not to notice.

“Yes, my dear, with hugs and smiles. Support each other. Take no conversation for granted. Merlin knows the only thing that comforted me in the first war was the constant reminders that I still had my family. That they were fighting with me, and that I was fighting for them.”

Luna nods sagely and looks down at the bracelets littering her wrists, each one made for a different person in her life: Ginny, her girlfriend; Harry, her partner; Neville, her best friend; Draco and Ron and Hermione, her friends. She asks, “What comforted you when you died? I know… I know it wasn’t fast. Or painless.”

Remus smiles, his eyes shining with kindness and hope despite the exhausted bruises beneath them and the scars across his face.

“I wasn’t alone,” he answers, his voice soft. “I died by Sirius’ side. I was holding his hand when I saw the light. And in the light there were silhouettes - James, Peter, Lily, Severus, Regulus. They were waiting for us. And I knew we would be okay.”

Luna nods. She twists a ring on her finger and says, “Thank you, Mr. Lupin. I’d best be going now.”

Remus nods as she begins to descend the steps, his voice ringing out one last time, “Good luck, Luna. I hope to Merlin your victory will be more permanent than ours.”

Luna twirls around, cocking her head as she asks, “You think we’ll win?” Remus smiles.

He nods, his eyes twinkling, and says, “Someone has to. Why not you?”

ONE: All Together Again (Grimmauld Place, Harry & Ron & Hermione’s Bedroom) & Harry Potter [After Graduation of Eighth Year - Daylight (Taylor Swift)]

Following the end of the war, Harry moves into Grimmauld Place, left to him by the godfather he never knew. He takes Hermione and Ron with him, the three of them having been in a committed relationship since sometime when they were on the run and following an unspoken agreement that they will follow each other anywhere.

Luna lives nearby with Ginny, in an apartment by Draco’s little cottage and Neville’s tiny hovel. The three of them live quietly, though their friends visit often. Harry feels better, happier, though the hole left by his missing family is still there.

One day, as he’s putting up pictures of him and his partners around their shared bedroom, he hears, “Harry?”

He looks up, and there, on the opposite wall, is a picture of the seven Marauders, all young and staring at him in shock. Harry tears up and rushes over, taking the picture delicately in his hands and smiling as he rakes his eyes over his lost family. They all grin back, and Harry reads the inscription on the frame: My dear Marauders, You have been my pride and joy for seven long short years. I know you will all do great things; I cannot wait to see what you accomplish. You are, and have always been, my favorite students. All my love, Minnie.

Harry covers his mouth, emotional, until finally James asks, “Are you happy?”

Harry looks at Remus and Sirius, their fingers intertwined and their eyes sparkling. He looks at Regulus and Peter, their arms around each other’s shoulders as they grin. He looks at Severus and Lily and James, his three wonderful parents. And he looks down at the two wedding rings on the chain around his own neck, bearing the initials R.W. and H.G.. And he nods.

“Yeah,” he answers, grinning. “Yeah, I’m really fucking happy.”

66 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

Steamy Waters — Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten), Namjoon x Vixen (mentioned)

Wordcount: 8.7k words

Genre: smut, a tinyyyyy bit of angst, pwp, established relationship, idol!au

Rating: very18+

Hello strawberries! With Namjoon’s Steamy Waters we saw the guys leaving for tour, with Yoongi we see them come back. Of course there will be a few things happening in between the two fics, but that will come later (see it as some special piece similar in terms of genre to Girls’ Night). Quick recap of the plot: Yoongi comes back from tour and Kitten is there to greet him. It has been a long day, and a he’s been away for a long time: the two decide to head to the shower to help Yoongi get rid of his travelling filth and help Kitten get rid of her bitter feelings. (AKA that one time Yoongi finally convinced Kitten to move in with a very unorthodox method.)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: filth. Swearing. Sarcasm. Dirty Talking. Slight angst (Yoongi’s shoulder is sore; Kitten finds condoms in his travel bag and she is afraid of cheating, even though she knows Yoongi is 3000% faithful, past relationship trauma). Shower blowjob, cum swallowing, cock worship and breast worship, lots of ass grabbing (both male and female receiving); again, Yoongi wakes her up with oral which is something he does a lot but still, it’s non explicitly consensual since she’s sleeping, he asks for consent as soon as she wakes up. Unprotected sex within an established relationship (GET TESTED BEFORE GOING BARE WITH YOUR PARTNER. PLEASE. USE CONDOMS UNLESS YOU’RE 1000% SURE YOU’RE CLEAN). Spooning sex, fingering, he uses his fingers as a gag. Multiple rounds and very multiple orgasms and squirting. Mentions of a cocksleeve. Mentions of anal sex; mild anal play (female receiving), mentions of rimming (female receiving). Use of a G-spot vibrator with remote control via smartphone, squirting, cunnilingus and face riding, crying, slight degradation, use of safeword, old school missionary jackhammering, choking kink. On a side note, reader is bisexual and everybody has a crush for Vixen

If you want background music for reading I suggest playing the whole About Time album by Sabrina Claudio or Over It (complete set) album by Summer Walker. [Thank me later 😉]

Finally, here is my masterlist and well, Enjoy!!! ✨💜

———————————

You stood in the middle of the underground parking lot of Yoongi’s apartment, waiting for his van to arrive from the airport. Today he was back from the tour and you’d taken a few days off work to spend time with him.

You stood there, checking some emails on your phone when the doors of the lift opened on a dolled up Vixen.

You had seen her wear black, blue and white quite consistently, head to toe impeccable at all times. That’s why you had to do a double take when you saw her in a pink, frilly, tiny sundress that looked like it could unravel if you stared at it for too long.

“Am I late?” She asked, only to stare at you and realise that if you were there waiting, then no, they hadn’t arrived yet. “Sorry, dumb question, I’m just excited.” She smiled nervously, fixing non-existent creases on her dress.

“There’s a bit of traffic. They’ll be here in a minute, though.” You explained, putting down your phone. “Plans for a date?” You asked her, looking at her outfit.

“No, actually. I just wanted to dress pretty.” She said, elegant and sweet as usual.

You smiled and looked at your oversized, worn-out T-shirt from a rockband you listened to when you were a teen, and the loose cotton shorts that reached your mid-thigh, paired with casual flip flops. You weren��t even wearing your nice bra. Not that Yoongi would care about that once he took your shirt off. Bras were just a nuisance to him anyway.

“Are you on vacation?” She asked, checking her phone before locking it again. It lit up again with a notification, her lockscreen showing a picture of a boy staring at a sculpture. No doubt, Namjoon.

“No, just took a few days off.” You replied kindly. You checked your phone yourself. “You and Joon are going on holiday?”

“Just a quick getaway.” She explained, beaming at you. She looked radiant, as if the last seven weeks had never existed. But her face looked slimmer. Her arms too. You had often met at the gym, spending time together and working out, ‘to stop thinking’ she had said. And you had bonded like that, over working out to stop your brains and dull your edges while your boyfriends were away.

You tried not to think if Namjoon was going to propose while they were away. Yoongi had mentioned the man was considering the idea. “Then have a safe journey and a nice holiday.” You said, grinning. “Hope you can get your fill of him.” You said smirking.

She caught the innuendo mischievously. “Trust me, I will.” She replied before winking.

The bar to the parking lot lifted, before a black van entered the space, stopping a few slots away from you.

Vixen was basically skipping on her toes, ready to throw herself at her boyfriend. Beside her, you felt like a flock of hummingbirds had been caged inside your chest, the fluttering feeling almost uncomfortable. When you heard the doors open, your ears stopped working, blood pressure making them perceive nothing but a dull beeping sound.

Namjoon appeared from the door, Vixen dashing to him and throwing her whole body into his arms as he picked her up. The whole scene was very romantic and dramatic — just in their style —, almost making you sneer in a mysanthropistic fit, however the smaller figure appearing behind the lovey dovey couple made you reconsider your hatred towards humanity.

Let’s be clear, you weren’t normally this sour, but seven weeks without Yoongi had taken their toll, and all you wanted was to incinerate every couple until he had had his sweet way with you and you weren’t underloved and underorgasmed anymore.

“No dramatic welcome back for me?” He asked, staring at you from the distance with his hands on his hips. “No balloons and banners?” He shook his head. “You’re a disappointment.” He grinned at you.

“You’re sucking your own dick tonight.” You teased back, Namjoon and Vixen too caught up in their idyllium to bother with your bantering.

He shrugged. “Thank you for letting me know.” He opened his arms and you walked towards him, hugging him tight as he did just the same, your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you to him. “Hi, Kitten.”

“Hello, Yoongles.” You said, your voice emotional.

“I’m sorry, I smell a bit.” He said, thinking about all those hours on the plane.

“Not really.” You said, nuzzling into his neck, reacquainting with his cologne. “You’re as good as usual.”

His hands rubbed up and down your spine. “Let’s go upstairs. It’s too hot outside today and I could kill for a shower right now.”

The back of the van was already open as Namjoon took out the suitcases.

“Hyung. Here is yours.” He said, letting it roll towards Yoongi.

He thanked and caught it, sprawling his left hand over the top of it before catching the handle. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the tendons and veins just below the pale skin, jumping and flexing at the effort.

You had missed those hands. Dearly. Deliriously.

As he noticed your focused stare, he smirked, his other hand searching for your fingers, intertwining them with his. “I have my backpack too. Careful, there’s equipment inside.” Said Yoongi, pulling at your arm as he neared the back of the van and grabbed his stuff.

“Let me get that.” You said, fussing over him. He looked tired and thin. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Not too bad.” He said. “A bit crumpled up because of the long trip and the air conditioning, but overall not bad.” He let you take the backpack though, showing you that yes, it was probably not nice.

“I’ll have a cold pack ready upstairs.” You said, kissing his temple. The boys and Vixen said goodbye to the driver as he left, leaving the four of you trying to fit inside the lift.

It wasn’t too difficult and you were grateful that Namjoon stayed mostly silent even as his hand kept drawing patterns on the back of Vixen’s naked thigh, climbing decisively too high — and too under her dress — for public decency. Not that he noticed you or Yoongi staring and looking at each other conspiratorially, trying to find ways to tease him about it in the future.

Anyway, Yoongi drew you close with an arm around your waist, whispering in your ear, “I’m just as needy myself.”

You turned to look at him with a knowing smirk. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” You whispered back, pressing your brow to the side of his head.

Luckily, the doors dinged and opened, making the sweethearts quit their endeavours and hurriedly grab the suitcase and the smaller carryon. Next, you took care of Yoongi’s luggage, helping him slide it down the corridor, to the door of his apartment. Namjoon and Vixen stood in front of the door beside you while he opened the front door to their apartment and brought his stuff in.

“I don’t think I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Namjoon commented.

“I don’t think so, no.” Yoongi replied chuckling as you raised your eyebrows and looked away, avoiding Namjoon’s knowing smirk.

“Then have a nice break. Guess I’ll text you.” Namjoon replied.

“Of course.” Yoongi said.

“Kitten,” Namjoon greeted with a small nod.

You waved at him, at the same time as Vixen said goodbye to the both of you and Namjoon picked her up again.

“We didn’t tell them to keep it down.” Yoongi realised after staring at the closed front door for a couple seconds.

“We could sleep in your studio.” You reasoned with a doubtful pout.

Yoongi’s expression unintentionally mirrored yours.

“Shall we?” You said, gesturing to the door.

He placed his arm around your waist and dragged you in. “I’m not strong enough to carry you like that.” He said, closing the door.

“They’re so disgustingly sweet.” You replied, shaking your head and combing his hair with your fingers. He looked so good with black hair.

“You say that only ‘cause it’s been too long since I last fucked you.” He replied, ignoring the suitcases and placing his lips on yours, chastely, sweetly.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered, rubbing his lips on yours tenderly.

“I’ve missed you too.” You replied, placing your hands on his ass and pushing him closer to you.

“I love you.” He murmured with his deliriously sexy voice.

“I love you.” You echoed, squeezing his behind eloquently.

He grinned. “Did Namjoon give you ideas?” He said, referring to the lift scene.

“I’m just appreciating the small things in life.” You quipped, making him part from you with an outraged frown.

“My ass is not that small.” He opposed.

“You are small.” You replied, cupping his face and squishing his cheeks.

“You have clearly forgotten how it feels to have my cock inside you.” He teased right back, gripping your ass himself and pushing you against his front, making you feel his hardening length.

“Maybe you could give me a reminder.” You wondered.

“I need a shower.”

“And I need to blow you, which, in my opinion, makes an excellent combination.” You said reasonably.

He grinned and shook his head. “Fuck, if I missed you.”

“Yes ‘fuck, if I missed you’, but also fuck me, please?” You said, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands with your palms up in front of him in a helpless pose.

“Let’s get that shower first, yeah.” He rubbed his hands up and down your sides. “You’ve waited so long that you can wait a bit longer, right.”

“I repeat, you’re this close to sucking your own dick tonight.” You warned jokingly.

“Then we can have that shower and let you blow me before you change your mind.” He teased, calming you down with heavy touches to your cheeks and hair.

He was secretly enjoying the feel of you in front of him, getting reacquainted with the materiality of you, with the joy of feeling you at his side, of feeling you, full stop. He had never known he could miss touching someone. Innocently, attentively and lovingly.

He had missed the feel of you under his hands. Combing your hair, hiding his nose in the crook of your neck, holding your hands.

Holding your hands.

He felt like he could do just that as you fell asleep on the bed.

He felt so tired.

“Let’s go.” You said, noticing his tired gaze.

“The bags.” He said, pointing at his luggage in the entry.

“Later.” You replied, squeezing his hand and leading the way to the bathroom adjoined to your bedroom.

“How was the journey?” You asked, taking off your shirt once you entered the bathroom door.

“Tiring. Very long. We had a long delay due to the connecting flight being late.”

“You had a connecting flight?” You said, incredulous, stopping as you were taking off your shorts.

“Well, it’s pretty difficult finding direct flights from Europe to South Korea.” He said, taking off his own shirt.

You turned around to look at his naked torso. It was pale as usual, more sculpted, but barely, still you immediately spotted the slightest curve on his belly and relaxed. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. Next he took off his loose linen sweats, a pair of plain white boxers emerging underneath. His calves were slightly bronzed, and as he noticed you staring he explained. “I stayed out with Hoseok one afternoon. I had bermudas on.” He pouted.

“My poor little cracker.” You cooed, getting closer to him in nothing but your underwear. As he hugged you, his hands went immediately to the clasp of your bra, unlatching it.

Grinning, you took it off and offered it to him, who threw it hatefully behind his shoulders. “I hate that shit.” He sneered, before cupping each of your breasts and pushing them up, planting his face snug in between.

“I missed you.” He mouthed, kissing both.

You giggled. “Are you talking to my tits.”

“I am appreciating the great things of life.” He murmured.

“I hope appreciating them includes covering them in hickeys and cum.” You commented, caressing his hair as he kept trying to suffocate himself between your boobs.

“What if I appreciated your dirty mouth first?” He teased, opening the tap to the shower and feeling the water temperature with the palm of his hand before bending down to take off his boxers.

His cock was half mast, as glorious as you remembered it, the hair around kept just long enough to stay soft.

As he noticed you staring, he snickered. “It looks like you really want to reacquaint with it.”

“Says the man who said ‘I missed you’ to my tits.” You teased.

“Fair enough.” He conceded, getting under the water falling from the shower head.

Taking off your panties, you followed him in.

“You look beautiful, Kitten.” He said, “a bit too thin, though.” He commented, running his hands up and down your sides.

“All those nights in the gym took a toll.” You replied.

“I still can’t believe you actually went to the gym.” He said, kissing your lips as light as a butterfly. “And just because you wanted to fuck but I was away.”

You shrugged, “the alternative was starting a very sapphic tryst with Vixen, but I don’t think Namjoon would have condoned it.”

Yoongi chuckled, “No, I don’t think so.” He admitted, massaging your ass under his palms. “Nice improvement.”

“I did Vixen’s workout. That girl is a fucking power plant.” You shook your head. “Completely crazy.”

“She is after all Namjoon’s girlfriend. I’m surprised he called her Vixen and not bunny or rabbit.” He shook his head.

“Enough with the sweethearts. Give me the D, mr Min.” You said, getting on your knees.

He laughed and ran his hand through your hair, while you scooted back towards the wall. You precisely knew how you wanted him.

“Kitten. What is it.” He asked, looking at the way you parted your legs and crouched, making sure that your spine and the back of your head pressed against the wall, your heels tucked under your ass.

“I want you to fuck my mouth?” You said, eyes imploring, your hands already running down the back of his thighs, trying to bring him close.

“You sure?” He asked, licking his lips repeatedly, swallowing once and then again in an attempt to bring comfort to his dry mouth.

“Yeah.” You replied, looking up at him bringing your hand between your legs, testing your own wetness.

Your eyes met as he stroked his length a couple times before feeding the tip of his cock into your mouth, parted wide for him. “Tell me how deep I can go.” He murmured, pushing in slowly.

You placed your hands on his hips, pushing him deeper into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around him, covering the edge of your teeth and bobbing your head tentatively. His hand moved protectively to the crown of your head, trying to keep your head from hitting the wall.

“Easy, tiger,” He said, chuckling, before his laugh stopped, interrupted by a moan. “Kitten, that's deep.” He murmured as you pushed him past the back of your tongue and deep into your throat. You kept him there for a couple seconds, focusing on the feel of him to avoid choking, before pushing him away.

He placed the other hand on the wall, holding up his weight. “Are you okay, love?” He asked, noticing your reddened eyes and heavy breath.

“Yes.” You murmured. “It feels so good to have you back.” You said, elated, as you pulled him back into your mouth, asking him with delicate motions of your arms to thrust into you.

“Missed your lips. Your tongue,” he moaned, groaning as you squeezed your cheeks against his tip. “So fucking good.” He combed your hair back and moved the hand from the wall to your chin, making you look up to him. “Look at me, ____.” He ordered you. “I want to look into your eyes as I fuck your mouth.” He leaned his forearm against the wall, plunging in with a gentle curl of his hips, his mouth wide, the water falling down his spine, his black locks plastered against his forehead. “I love your mouth. Your nasty tongue.” He drew out. “Touch yourself.” He growled, teasing you with his sexy voice.

“Yoongi.” You moaned as he slid out. “Please.” You whimpered.

“Please what, kitty.” He said, touching your face.

“I want you to cum.” You cried out, scratching his abdomen lightly.

“How do you want that?” He asked, brushing a few loose strands of hair off your face.

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” You repeated, eager, your fingers rubbing in between your legs.

“Then let me give you what you want, love.” He purred, grabbing his shaft and placing the soft, reddish tip right on your lower lip. “Is this what you want?”

You nodded, begging him with your longing glance.

He grinned sinfully and let his hip arch forward.

He entered your mouth with a slow and steady stroke, giving you time to prepare yourself, until he was all the way in.

“I'll never forget how it feels, Kitten. I've spent hours thinking about this.” He groaned, his chest heaving.

And then he slipped out, only to stroke in again. You moaned a bit, and then kept quiet, focusing on the feel of him, on his eyes screwed shut, on the rhythmic contractions of his belly, on the flexing of his quads and his glutes.

He was so beautiful, lost in bliss, chasing his high, stopping only when you tapped his leg twice.

He let the tip rest on your tongue, “love that dirty mouth.” He praised you as you slurped and twirled your tongue around him. “Can never resist it.” He went on.

Once more you pulled him towards you, humming wantonly.

“Close, Kitten. Need your… Yes.” He groaned as you reached for his balls. “Sq–”

He didn't have the time to give you orders: you were already doing his favourite things, massaging his sensitive spot, squeezing him gently until he sank deep into you and went silent for a couple seconds, not even breathing before he let a raspy roar tear from his mouth and echo in the small space.

You shut your eyes tight as he gave the smallest thrust, burrowing deep into you as he spilled inside you, the lack of oxygen getting to your head, but still you tried opening your eyes, looking at Yoongi's lips hanging open, gasping for hair.

His chest expanded in a deep breath. “For fuck’s sake.” His eyes opened slightly.

He was leaning over you, the light dimmed by his body shielding you, the sound of the water precipitating against the floor a bit too loud for his ears and your own.

You touched his leg twice and his eyes shot open as he slipped out quickly. “Damn it, you okay, Kitten?” He knelt between your legs, touching your cheeks and taking in your closed eyes and your chest heaving as you finally got some brand new oxygen in your lungs.

“A bit short of breath.” You whispered, leaning into his touch and nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“Oh, precious.” He moved his hands behind your back, hugging you close. “Poor thing.”

“Don’t baby me.” You mumbled, raking your nails down his back, making him shiver.

“No?” He asked, smiling softly, rubbing his cheek against your hair. “You’re a tough cookie?”

You nodded with your eyes closed and he snickered.

“My tough cookie.” He murmured, patting your head. “I missed you so much, beautiful. I love you.”

You untucked yourself from his shoulder and looked at him in the eye. “I love you, too.” You cooed.

“What can I do for you, ____?” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You dipped your head forward, hiding into him. “I want you close.” He felt his heart melt.

“You don’t want me to fuck you?” He asked, simply caressing your head as you mouthed at his throat.

“Let’s finish the shower first.” You said, parting from him and standing up.

He placed a chaste kiss on your hip as you stood before him, his tongue delving between your legs, tasting your honey-clad folds. “I swear the taste of your cunt keeps getting better and better.”

“We can take this to bed, Yoongi, now stand up and let me wash your hair.” You murmured, running your hands into his dark locks

“You could wash my hair while I make out with your pussy.” He suggested.

“I need to focus, stand up you menace.” You smirked playfully.

He obeyed, bending his head forward, planting it between your tits.

“Yoongi!” You said, playfully outraged.

“Oh, come on.” He murmured. Immediately he found his usual spot and took it past his lips, sucking it with his teeth, rubbing it with his tongue while you found the bottle of his shampoo and poured some in your palm, rubbing your hands together and spreading the foam over his hair.

“Don’t be a whiny pup.” You scolded him, spreading the soap over his scalp, carefully avoiding it going into his eyes.

As he felt your fingers massaging his head, making sure that all the shampoo was rinsed off his hair, his lips accidentally parted in a wide yawn.

“Let’s go to bed.” You murmured, maybe for the first time since you saw him downstairs, the dark circles underneath his eyes.

You closed the tap quickly, stretching to reach a towel and drying him up, pressing the towel to his pained shoulder, dabbing the cotton softly before peppering a cascade of kisses on the skin. “We’re gonna put some lotion on this baddie.” You said, smiling gently at him. “Does it hurt?” Your lips still caressing his skin there while you kept drying him up, knowing how dangerous it was for him to stay wet under the air conditioning. He was delicate and something inside you, something affectionate and apprehensive, made you want to pamper him.

“A bit.” He said, pouting, feeling like he could drop his facade now, abandoning himself to your gentle care.

He yawned again. “You had your orgasm and now you’re sleepy, kitty cat?” You teased, cooing at him cutely.

“I’m a bit jet-lagged,” he admitted, stealing a towel and opening it up, cupping your breasts from over the cotton, and then moving his attention elsewhere, brushing your belly, your arms, kneeling down and placing a small kiss on your lower belly, before rubbing the fabric over your legs, first one, then the other, helping your foot up and drying first your left, then your right one.

“Where’s the lotion?” You asked, kissing his brow as he stood up.

“In the carryon. It’s with the toiletries.”

You quickly wrapped your towel around your body, exiting the room and looking for his large suitcase. You opened it, his laundry neatly folded inside, his beauty bag perfectly fitting in. As you rummaged into his beauty bag, you frowned, spotting a familiar bottle of lube and a small silicone pocket. A few condoms loose among his toiletries.

Something in you hesitated. Even though you knew Yoongi would never, ever look at someone else, old ghosts of your ex immediately started tormenting you.

You tried to ignore the unsettling feeling, blinking a few times before grabbing his shoulder lotion and heading for the kitchen, immediately finding a cold pack inside the freezer, and bringing it to the bedroom. You looked inside a drawer, finding a little kerchief or a bandana — whatever it was — and bringing it to the bedside table.

Yoongi was laying in the middle of the bed, looking at you as you obstinately avoided his gaze.

“Lay on your side.” You asked gently but coldly before he obeyed, still a bit confused at your change in mood. Was it because he hadn’t fucked you? Maybe you were okay with it, but now you weren’t anymore? Were you disappointed?

You poured some cold lotion on the round muscle, following the instruction he had taught you before he left, when he came home tired and sore from practice. And then again, his therapist had taught you some small tricks after the concert in Seoul, when you had accompanied him to the doctor the following day for his ordinary session.

He hissed as the cold gel met his skin, while your thumbs dug into the skin gently but surely, massaging the stressed muscle. “It’ll warm up.” You said simply, spreading the lotion and massaging it where flesh and bone met.

You opened the cold pack, cracking it in the middle and placing it behind his shoulder, where his shoulderblade and collarbone met. locking it into place by tying the bandana around it, running it around his armpit. “There you go. I’ll go rinse my hands.”

You hadn’t kissed him. Or looked at him.

“Kitten.” He called, but you were already walking into the joined bathroom, willingly ignoring his call.

You opened the tap, rubbing the heavy stench of the gel off your hands, and then placing your clean, wet, cold palms against your cheeks, trying to calm down.

You grabbed one of his t-shirts before you lowered the blinds, walking towards the bed and laying down on your side of the bed, curled up in a ball and sliding under the covers after turning on the air purifier. His eyes opened as you laid down,

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” He asked.

“I’m cold.” You replied briefly.

“Kitten.” He called again.

You turned away from him, taking a few deep breaths, pondering whether you should talk or not.

“Kitten.”

“I found the condoms. In your bag.” You voice shook. “I know you would never do what he did but still.”

“Goodness.” He murmured, his breath freezing in his lungs. “Fuck. Kitten. Don’t.” He said calmly, with a reassuring tone, coming closer to you, hugging you to his chest, his tender arm coming around your body, while his good one moved under your head, pillowing it. “They’re there from when you came to our concert in Busan. Remember?” He said, kissing the crown of your head. “Remember Busan?”

You nodded. Of course you remembered. “I do.” You had changed birth control and you had used the condoms for safety. And accidentally — since you were already equipped — you had tried anal for the first time, quite to your surprise.

“And I kept them there. Hoping that maybe you could find a way to come to one of the concerts. That maybe we could have a couple nights somewhere.” He explained, intertwining your fingers. “No one else. I swear to God, no one else, Kitten. No one else, ____.”

You relaxed in his hold, kissing his arm under your head. “I’m so sorry. I know you would never. I trust you, but… You know how it feels.”

“I do, love. I know you trust me, baby.” He kissed your shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, being so strong, my love.”

“Can you just hold me?” You asked, slowly slipping into complete relaxation. Even though you knew feeling him inside you would be the best form of reassurance, you abandoned the idea. Because, as much as you’d love him to ruin you, what you had missed the most while he was away was his hands combing your hair before falling asleep, his chest expanding and deflating against your back as he slept behind you, his hand gently placed on your chest, while you simply laid there, basking in the peacefulness of being together. You missed combing his hair, feeling the weight of his head resting in your arms, kissing his temple as he laid his head on your shoulder, you watching a movie while he pretended not to nap.

“There you go, Kitten.” He murmured against your nape, sprinkling little pecks all over your upper back. “I missed you.” He whispered, again, losing count of how many times he had said it. His body relaxed behind yours, his mind already thinking how he could possibly offer you true reassurance later — and repay you for the blowjob. In kind. With interests. Once he was sure you were sleeping, he stood up, looking into the drawer of your bedside table and smirking once he found the small case together with the charger.

He considered he’d better recharge it and avoid unfortunate mishaps, he unplugged your bedside lamp and connected the charger, plugging it into the toy. Satisfied with the potential developments, he curled up around you; his eyelids fluttered closed, his yawns becoming stronger and more frequent, sleep conquering his body as your own muscles loosened with Morphean abandon.

————————————

When Yoongi woke, it was already sundown, a gentle orange light coming in from the window. Around seven pm.

First, he noticed that his shoulder felt better. Next, he noticed that you were wearing a shirt.

Disappointing.

And next, he realised that he was home. At your side. In your bed.

Finally, he realised that he hadn’t yet seen you cum. He had been home for around six hours and he had spent the majority of those sleeping. When he could have made you cum on his tongue several times.

He started considering his options.

With quiet and discretion, he parted from your sleeping form, heading for the small drawer where he kept bedsheets, towels, underwear and sleeping clothes. There, under a blanket, he found exactly what he was looking for.

“Yes.” He huffed out, placing his treasure on the drawer and fixing the rest, moving back to the bed together with the soft object. He removed the cold pack from his shoulder and spread the small two-layers blanket on the free side of the bed, planning to lay it out fully once he managed to wake you up.

Now he only had to rouse you.

He arched his eyebrows, thinking of how he could do that without getting his cock bitten off.

You were a very smart and adult woman, but still you took your naps very seriously, acting like a whiny child whenever someone interrupted them.

He crawled on top of the bed, curling up in a ball below you, pressing his knees to his shoulders as he gave a tentative lick on your naked labia, his tongue insinuating between your folds until he found your sweet nectar.

Your hips moved against his face, just barely, an involuntary movement of your body. You were still asleep.

He gave a full lick, as far as your position allowed.

You fussed in your sleep, maybe mumbling his name, or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He lifted your leg just enough to have access to your clit, the tip of his tongue toying with it, tapping it a couple times before he flexed his appendage and rubbed it against your sensitive spot, first in tiny licks, then in circular motions.

“Yoongi,” this time you called for real.

Finally happy with the result, he put down your leg and laid down behind you, placing his palm on your belly and sliding it under the shirt, feeling your naked skin.

“Kitten?” He called, making sure that you were actually awake.

“Yes.” You replied, your voice groggy.

“I want inside.” He murmured at your ear.

“Yes.” You confirmed, mind still a bit hazy with sleep.

“Yes what?” He asked with an arrogant chuckle.

“Inside. Please.” You whimpered, your hand stretching behind you and grabbing his sex.

“Let it be, Kitten. I’ll take care of it.” He slapped your hand away before he wrapped his fingers around his shaft, rubbing his tip against you. “You want it like this?” He said, nibbling your shoulder. “Want me from behind?”

You nodded, lifting your upper leg and hooking it back over his hip, offering him access. “You’re so good at spoons.”

He snickered. “Told you it was good.” He slid the tip in slowly, stretching your hole as the thick, red, spongy head breeched your inner cave. “Remember when we played twenty question here, in my house?” He said, voice raspy as he slid in all the way, stilling only once he bottomed out.

“I do.” You replied with difficulty, through gritted teeth. “I rubbed you through your pants unti you came.”

“You were fingering yourself while jerking me off.” He murmured. “You were there, so open about your pleasure, so unashamed.” He kissed you below your ear, slowly sliding out.

You whimpered as he parted from you, lifting your shirt and pushing his hand to your chest, his fingers immediately tweaking your nipple. You turned your head, trying to meet his lips, almost getting a crick in your neck at the effort. He slid in with a deep stroke, bending over you and joining your mouths.

“In that moment I realised I had to have you.” He groaned against your mouth.

“We hadn’t even kissed and you were thrusting yourself into my hand.” You mewled as he rubbed against the tender tissue inside you. “God, you always hit my sweet spot like this.” You cried out, giving him a few squeezes.

“So tight.” He cried out, purring against your ear. “And I hadn’t kissed you because I was afraid.” He said, almost as if he weren’t trying to possess every inch of you, as if it wasn’t the most difficult thing he had ever done, to stay perfectly still inside you as you milked him.

“Afraid.” You said, provokingly. “Ten dates in two months and you were afraid.”

“I knew that the moment I got my tongue in your mouth, I would never slow down.” He murmured, pulling out just barely before ramming into you. “I wanted to hear you moan for me from the first time I heard your voice. So soft. So sexy.” He groaned against your ear.

His hand moved to the other breast, your gaze focusing downwards, on his skeletal fingers, on the way they spread and constricted around your flesh. “Yoongi, I wanna cum.” You moaned, grinding your hips in circles while he gave tiny thrust that rubbed the head of his cock against your g-spot. “So good.” Your hand reached behind, grabbing his ass cheek and sinking your nails into the flesh, imprinting five red crescents into the skin, scratching it, marking it.

His other arm slid beneath you, fumbling a little as he substituted the one on your breasts, while the other one, a bit freer, moved up, to slip his fingers into your mouth. “Suck them, Kitten. Moan around them.” He said, pressing his index and middle finger on your tongue. “Make them wet before I rub them on your clit.” He murmured, giving small circles with his hips, feeling you clench around him.

“Close.” You moaned while he moved his fingers away from your tongue, right on your sensitive bud.

“Come on. Cum for me.” He groaned, rubbing his palm delicately over your nipple, teasing it barely, only the tip meeting the rough skin of his calluses. “Cum on my cock. Claim it. Come on.” He said, his voice strained, his hips pushing with quick small strokes, focusing on caressing and pressing against your sweet spot.

“Yoo—” You tried to speak his name but your mouth stayed open, a loud scream ripping from your throat, as it all became too much. “Yoongs, wait, fuck, too good!” You screamed as his fingers kept teasing you insistently, overstimulating you. “Yoongs, fuck, another!” You felt his thrusts become faster, harder as your second high approached.

“No no no no, please, stop!” You screeched, trying to tug his wrist away, while he kept it against your mound, tucked in tight.

“You know the word, ____.” He growled as he gave a few final strokes inside you, your whole body shaking with effort, your second high so incredibly strong that it took your voice away, your ears filled with a shrill beeping sound. “So good.” He hummed pushing your back into his chest as he stayed deep inside you, coating your cunt with his seed as he gave a couple tentative thrusts. “So fucking good, Kitten.”

“Yoongi,” you murmured with your voice hoarse.

“The whole neighbourhood will know about you getting that good dick,” He teased, slipping out of you and holding you tight, rolling you on top of him, and then on the other side of the bed, where he had laid the special blanket just for you.

“There’s the blankie.” You said, surprised.

“Yup. I laid the blankie for you.” He said, as he noticed you sitting up and tearing your t-shirt off your torso, throwing it away before you rolled your body on your front.

You smiled and nuzzled into the soft microfiber, anticipating the special treatment you were about to get.

“Are you ready, Kitten?” He asked, rubbing your ass, then letting his finger walk up your spine, carding through your hair and grabbing it, massaging your scalp with his hooked fingers.

“Yes, please.” You said, half still dizzy with your previous orgasms, and half dizzy with the anticipation for the ones that were about to come.

“Would you like to stay on your front?” He asked, stretching to the bedside table and unplugging the device, placing it away from your curious eyes.

“Yes? And then turn around?” You asked, turning your head to look at him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Maybe you could play with my boobs, choke me a little, then fuck me again?” You said, arching your back and pushing your ass up, trying to lure him in, and at the same time rubbing your sensitive nipples against the soft fabric.

“Greedy little beast.” He said, patting your head affectionately.

You pushed your face against it, like an obedient little cat.

“Stay put, Kitten. I’ll come back in a second.” He said, dashing for the entry room lightning fast, rummaging in his backpack for his phone, finding it and murmuring a “aha!” before he headed back to the bedroom the small toy still placed in his palm, his fingers wrapped tight around it.

As he entered the bedroom he slowed down, looking at you kneeling with your ass up, your front pressed against the mattress, your arm trapped underneath you as your fingers played peekaboo between your legs, tickling your folds like the long, spindly legs of a spider.

“You got started without me?” He asked, looking at you with his phone in his hand, his other palm unfolding as he let the vaginal vibrator dangle from his fingers pinching the small cord that simplified extraction.

“Fuck it, I love you.” You chuckled, pushing your fingers inside, feeling how deeply he had stretched you.

“You only love me for the sex.” He said, grinning, making the vibrator swing back and forth like a pendulum.

“That’s not true.” You said, whimpering as you hit a really good spot. You giggled. “I also love you because you’re fucking filthy.” You teased.

He grinned his signature gummy smile and brought the toy to his face, his lips parting wide and wrapping around it, sucking it in his mouth.

Your eyes went wide at the gesture, the cord dangling like the tail of a mouse caught in the cat’s clutches.

He crawled behind you, placing down his phone as he caressed the back of you thighs, grabbing your ass and massaging it with his firm, strong hands.

“Put it in?” You asked, wiggling your butt in his grasp.

His right hand parted from your skin, pinching the cord and tugging at it, the toy popping out with a loud noise. “My filthy babe wants her cunt filled?” He asked, licking at his cum as it has oozed out of your slit, coating your inner thighs.

“Please, Yoongi.” You purred, using your fingers to part your labia.

He snickered and placed the toy on your entrance, letting it slide in one millimeter at the time.

You felt every single second of it, the slightly oval shape calling for a barely-there stretch at the tip, but hitting an almost-burning sensation once you reached the widest part, Yoongi devilishly stopping it there, his other hand disappearing from your leg.

That’s when the vibration started. Slow, steady, almost imperceptible.

“Yoongs...” You whined, stretching the vowels in a whining tone.

“Oh, quiet.” He shushed you, putting down the phone to caress your spine, “Be a good girl.” He murmured, scratching your butt before slapping it playfully. “You should keep up with the work out. Look at this ass.” He said, before letting his teeth sink in it.

You screamed, the toy finally sliding all the way in.

The vibrations started propagating inside you, together with his teeth tightening on your flesh. He would leave a mark for sure. It was only a matter of how harsh it would be, how long it would last.

He parted from your butt, pondering for a second whether he thought it a good idea to run his tongue down the junction of the two ass cheeks, teasing the hole in between.

Not yet. He felt like he should discuss it with you first.

To silence his doubts he parted from you, admiring the view, letting it eventually suggest him how to proceed.

He wished he could preserve the moment in his mind forever, even if he couldn’t quite see your face, your pretty nose scrunched and eyes shut as you focused on the feeling between your legs, trying to make it good enough to lead you to pleasure once more.

With his phone he let the intensity of the vibration grow just a bit. A very, very tiny bit.

“More.” You mewled, your fingers rubbing your clit.

There was his suggestion.

Sliding his hand up against your side, then forward, near your belly, he managed to take control of your wrist, pushing it away and trapping it behind your back. “I’m gonna give you more, but that’s all you’re gonna get, Kitten.” He warned, letting his thumb increase the vibration on the touch screen of his phone.

“Fuck it. Yes.” You said, as the stimulus became medium-intense.

And then mild again. “Don’t mess with me please, just please!” You cried out, writhing against nothing, parting your legs wider as he noticed the cord hang between your leg twitching with the tight contractions of your cunt.

“Oh, I shouldn’t?” He raised the controller all the way up.

“YOONGI!” You screamed, your body out of control as your legs gave out, pushing your hips against the mattress, the soft fiber of the blanket feeling divine on the delicate tip of your clit.

And then again the vibration quieted down, your brow furrowing as you felt your eyes get watery, huffing out, panting and grunting as you looked for relief, grinding against the bed desperately.

With a grin he let the vibration flutter on a middle ground, giving you a fleeting feeling of stronger and weaker stimulation.

“How does your tiny cunt feel, Kitten? Is it tight? Wet? Warm?” He asked, provokingly.

“It feels very— Yoongi!” You called again as he let you begin talking comfortably and then turned the vibrations all the way up, making you tear up and cry out his name.

“That’s right.” He said. “It feels me.” He toyed with the cursor on the upper side of the screen, letting it oscillate among the higher values. “It feels only me. Because that’s my cunt.” He said, talking over your small hiccups and whines. “And it’s the only cunt I want to be inside.” He snarled, bringing the controller down low again, your desperate sniffling making him feel compassionate as he let the vibrations go to the maximum and left them there, his torso rising over you as he let a dollop of spit fall from his lips to your puckered hole, his hand leaving your wrist and spreading over your ass, his thumb spreading his spit and pressing enough to cause a stimulation but gently, not to violate your delicate entrance.

“I’m so close.” You cried out, panting, your mouth so dry as you felt the wet slide of his finger between your ass cheeks, on the sensitive skin of your anus, where even the slightest outer pressure echoed inside tenfold.

“Cum for me.” He groaned, picking up your hips and laying his front against your back, rutting his crotch against the seam of your ass.

“I’m— Oh—” You stayed silent as the high rushed over you, an incredible amount of wetness pouring out of your slit, getting caught in the blanket, just the way it was supposed to, the double layer protecting the sheets below. “Oh, Yoongs, babe.” You said, your whole body falling down, your legs kicking and twitching as the vibration stayed too high on your still delicate spot.

“I wanna ride your face, quick I’m gonna c—” You tried to focus on not squirting again, waiting for him to get in place.

Mercifully, he turned down the vibrations, laying on his back, parting your knees and sliding below your pelvis, his mouth immediately finding your clit while you raised your front on your elbows, so you could make more room for him — but also to feel your breasts hang heavily, and to tease your nipples while the whole scene carried out.

Yoongi started sucking almost immediately, one of his hands spread on your ass, rubbing it and squeezing it, the other one toying with the controller, giving you that rhythmic increasing and decreasing stimulation while you got used to the feel of him on your clit.

And once more you were close, your inner muscles shaking violently as he hummed against you, clicking his tongue fast against your delicate bundle of nerves.

And just like that, your hips started undulating gently above him, giving him the sign to leave the vibrations high up as you moved your weight on your hands, raising your upper body to look a his eyes focused on your bouncing tits, on your parted mouth, on your eyes, rolling shut as you gushed on him, your cum covering his upper chest as you grabbed your left breast in your palm, constricting it in your painfully tight fist, while your hips went wild on him, fucking your clit into his mouth, moving so hard and fast that he lost his grip on it while you rubbed yourself all over his face, meeting his nose, his chin and simply chasing the feel of the hard surface of his lineaments against your overstimulated clitoris.

He basked in it, after all the time it had taken to have you this wild, this reckless while his mouth worked his magic on you. You had began your experience with him as a shy novice in the art of getting head, but now here you were, spreading your wetness all over his nose and chin and lips and dammit, forehead too, riding him with the prowess of a tiger, glorious in all your ruthless lust.

He was aroused by your confidence and it took him a while to realise that you had collapsed over him, crying, begging, your legs kicking against the mattress while your hand had left your breast and had tightened its grip into his hair, keeping his face still first while he tried to move it side to side. Now oversensitive, with tears in your eyes, you pushed his head away, down, off of you.

“Yoongi. Please. Oh, god. Icycle, Yoongi. Icycle.” You sobbed, your voice breaking as he quickly found the cord and pulled the vibrator out of you.

And there you were, laying barely alive on the bed, his head under your hips, the toy vibrating on the bed, somewhere.

He allowed himself one brief second before he lifted your hips and slid out from below you. “Kitten,” He said, worried, wiping his face and chest with a corner of the blanket while he switched off the toy, trying to turn you around, on your back, so he could see you properly.

Obeying to his insistent hands, you turned, showing him your eyes rimmed with tears, your wild hair, your chest, still shaking with sobs and hiccups.

“Poor Kitten.” He said, caressing your face. “You had to use your safeword, baby? Are you okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek and kissing you.

You immediately wrapped yourself around him as he laid on top of you, your lower lip pouting. “I want you closer.” You said, grinding your hips against his hard sex.

“Need to be fucked by my cock?” He asked. “Again?” With a gentle expression, he parted from you enough to pump his length a couple times before you felt him enter you.

The sensation was different. With the vibration gone, all you felt was the fullness, the thrusting motion that he started straight away now that your cunt was slippery and wide.

“Hard and fast, love?” He asked, checking on you.

You nodded. “If possible, then yes.” You said. “Can I please touch myself? I’m not sure I can cum without after that...” You explained, his head nodding as he already dove for your tits, tightening his hand around your neck — more precisely your jugular — while his mouth focused on your left nipple.

You felt him beginning to hammer into you, at the beginning with slow, thorough slides that had you feeling every single vein, from the tip to the base. And then he simply focused on the angle, your head growing dizzy as you gurgled his name, helpless, desperate, horny out of your mind, completely fucked out.

“Does it feel good, Kitten?” He asked, releasing your breast and focusing on your neck, biting and leaving a few bruises and hickeys around.

“Always.” You whispered, meeting his thrusts.

“Then move in with me.” He said, pouncing on you in the most unexpected moment.

“What?” You said, trying to open your eyes, to focus on his expression, his crunched nose, his lips parted and his hair sticking to his forehead with wet locks, the vein on his neck popping out every time he thrusted in and bit his lip in an attempt to control himself.

“Move.” Thrust. “In.” Thrust. He said, grunting.

He hit a very good angle, your fingers stilling on your clit. “Yoongi—” With a very smooth stroke, he made your eyes roll close, your lips parting in a tiny word. Very tiny.

“Yes.” You sibilated.

“Yes?” He asked again.

He had probably fucked you dumb and brainless.

“Yes.” You whispered again.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good in our home.” He said, ramming in with renewed enthusiasm, finding a speed and an intensity you didn’t think his delicate body could muster.

“Our home.” You murmured, pushing your heels into his butt and meeting his thursts with impatient little moans as you felt your last high approach, your eyes rolling shut as he tightened the pressure on your veins and finally collapsed on top of you, your fingers strumming your clit a couple more times before you felt that definite clenching; his mouth releasing a tiny hum as he gave two small strokes, his lungs releasing a long exhale.

“You’re moving in.” He said, exhausted on top of you. “I love you.”

In the small limbo between death and life, in the postorgasmic bliss of the French ‘small death’, you wore a small smile. “You fucked me dumb enough to make me say yes.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard my D is your kryptonite.” He joked, giggling weakly.

“This was probably your best performance, mr. Min.” You said, patting his head. “Really fucked me dumb. Cunnilingus so good I cried. It’s a ten across the board, love.”

“Well, now that you’re moving in I’ll have a lot more time to defeat my new record. Upgrade. Improve. Elevate.” He nibbled your nipple. “Outdo myself.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. Good: getting the D anytime. Bad: having multiple near death experiences in a week. I might have to reconsider moving in.” You mumbled, combing his hair.

“I’ll simply have to keep you dumbfucked twenty-four-seven.” He pondered. “Can do.”

You giggled. “Can do.”

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #suga smut #suga x reader #yoongi fanfiction #suga fanfiction #bts smut #bangtan smut #bts blog #bts fanfiction #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #min yoongi

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pagesoflauren · 4 years ago

Text

The Riveter Ch. 4

Steve Rogers x mechanic!reader

Summary: After escaping Hydra, you assist Dr. Erskine in helping Steve Rogers become Captain America. When Erskine is assassinated, you think your WWII career is over. Unfortunately, the SSR and Hydra are not done with you yet.

Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of death, canon-typical violence, mentions of trauma, slow burn, dialogue-heavy chapters, comic book science

A/N: I hope you enjoy this. I had fun writing it! Thank you to @seeevans and @dbnightingale24 for helping me with this! Major shoutout to @writeyourmindaway for creating such wonderful and beautiful dividers!

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

You’re jostled awake, shaken as you lay at the end of a truck bed, spotting the shaky view of the road. The sky is filled with smoke, the bitter smell filling your lungs, beckoning you away from dreamland.

Though, your sleep was dreamless nonetheless.

You can’t recall anything immediately, only feeling the urgent need to get off the truck you’re on. As your senses slowly become acute, you can hear some soldiers speaking German behind you.

“It’s amazing it’s still asleep,” one mutters.

“I wonder what Herr Schmidt did,” another voice responds.

“That’s not important,” the first one speaks up again. “We should not concern ourselves with such matters too much. All we need to know is it’s vital to us winning the war.”

You cringe at the pronoun they use for you, but ignore it as you begin to devise a plan to escape.

Slitting your eyes open, you spy the switch used to drop the tailgate. Stretching your leg under the guise of fidgeting in your sleep, your toe just reaches the lever. You don’t hear or sense any movement from the men, so you keep your foot poised there.

A few minutes later, you hear exactly what you were hoping for: “Hold on, men!” the driver calls from the cab.

There’s a rough patch in the road and you kick. The other objects and the metal rack above the bed rattle too, masking the sound of the tailgate dropping. With it down, you’re exposed to the breeze.

You’re tossed this way and that and the men seem distracted with securing whatever else is being transported with you. You take that as your opportunity, rolling out and bracing yourself quickly.

Falling on the bumpy dirt road knocks the breath out of you, but you gulp and turn to your front to get to your feet. Before the men can recognize that you’re gone, you’ve disappeared into the treeline.

Leaning against a trunk, you catch your breath and try to orient yourself, but you don’t have much direction. What began as confusion between east and west grew into not knowing which way is up or down. Sliding down to sit, you lean your head back. When you close your eyes, you hear Zola’s voice echoing in your head.

-----

Celebrations were underway, Steve still receiving congratulations while the captured men reunited with their friends, lovers, and commanders. He even received the Medal of Valor, which he didn’t attend the ceremony for.

Not only was there so much to do in London, he knew in his heart he couldn’t accept it. While he succeeded in saving Bucky and the rest of the 107th, he failed to make sure his partner was safe as the two of you carried out your mission.

In idle moments, he hears you screaming; behind shut eyes, he sees your face. When he doesn’t see you, he sees Peggy and Howard, somber expressions. Where Agent Carter is normally composed, her lip wobbles at the thought of you. Howard ran a hand down his face, eyes shiny and voice clogged as he asked if there was a chance you were alive.

Steve didn’t know, and he still doesn’t. He was sent to England less than a day after returning from Austria. Peggy was called too but requested an extension to continue working with Howard in Italy.

Work continued, but it was slower without her intelligence contributions in devising a plan to take down the Hydra bases he made note of. After a long day of nothing, Colonel Phillips dismisses the meeting.

“Rogers, before you hit the hay,” the older man says, “You may want to visit the infirmary before their visiting hours end.”

Confused and concerned, Steve nods and makes his way out of the situation room, navigating the narrow halls to the medical wing.

He sees Howard first, sitting across from a head of brown curls that Steve can deduce is Agent Carter. There’s a doctor at the foot of the bed relaying information to the patient.

You lay there, scratches adorning your face and eyes heavily lidded.

Steve’s heart is light with disbelief and repose for feeling calm at the sight of you safe in an Allied facility.

“...I’ll leave you to rest.”

“Thank you, doctor,” you smile.

Howard spots him in the doorway, nodding in greeting, “Hey, Cap.”

Stepping in awkwardly, Steve feels shy seeing you. He stands in the place the doctor once occupied, hands folded behind your back.

“I’d venture to say dress greens suit you better than tights,” you joke, voice gravelly. You laugh then groan and Steve is concerned again.

“You can’t laugh, love,” Peggy reminds you.

“What happened?” he wonders.

You rattle off your injuries: scratches, dislocated shoulder from falling out of the truck, bruised ribs, and major fatigue from lack of food and water.

“How’s your head?” Howard prods.

“Better now that I’ve rested.”

Steve likes hearing that you’ve been better, but he can’t imagine what you’ve been through that was worse. “When did you get here?”

“We arrived at a little past noon. The doctor thinks she was out in the Austrian forest for a little over twelve hours before we found her,” Peggy answers for you. “We’ll give you two some time to catch up.”

“Why do we have to--”

There’s a thud and Howard groans, face scrunching up in pain as he looks at Peggy.

“Ouch! ...Okay. We’ll see you later, little miss,” he gets up, kissing your forehead. “Captain.”

“Get some rest, love,” Peggy cradles your cheek.

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing her hand. “Thank you for finding me.”

“Of course,” she smiles. She turns back to Steve, regarding him with a nod.

When they both leave, your eyes are on him and he smiles nervously, pointing to the chair Peggy just vacated. You tilt your head towards it as if giving him permission to sit down.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he tells you honestly. “Must’ve been hell...being in there alone.”

Your shoulder lifts slightly; a shrug of some sort. “Could’ve been worse. I think it goes without saying, though.”

Pursing his lips, he considers your words for a moment. “Do you remember anything?”

You close your eyes and inhale slowly, wincing a little at the pain when your ribs move as you take in air. “Plenty.” Eyes opening, you look a little perplexed. “But at the same time, not a lot.”

Steve cocks an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

Your mouth opens to speak, but you’re interrupted by nurses murmuring at a nearby table. “I’d explain but it’s classified.”

“You’d keep secrets from me?” he smirks. “Thought we were friends.”

You smile. “Only until we’re around people on a need-to-know basis. Phillips must’ve told you, right?” Steve tilts his head curiously. “Once I’m on my feet, I’m meant to debrief everything I remember.”

He makes a mental note to ask Phillips about it. At the mention of you recovering, Steve thinks back to the injuries you mentioned. “Seems like you got outta Hydra with a lot of luck.”

Your face doesn’t change, but he sees your eyes flick to the left. “Luck indeed.”

“Could’ve been worse, like you said.”

You purse your lips, nodding.

Looking down, Steve decides to drop the subject. Howard and Peggy went all the way back to the factory to find you based on the slim chance that you were still alive. He can imagine them combing through dozens of trees before finding you.

They trust you. Steve trusts you.

But why wasn’t it worse for you?

“Captain Rogers, my apologies,” a nurse speaks as she approaches your bedside. “But it’s time for the infirmary to close to visitors.”

Nodding to her, there’s an idle moment until she realizes she should give some space for him to say goodnight.

“Well,” he says, standing up, “Feel better soon.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

He pauses, fidgeting with the air as he contemplates bidding you goodbye in an additional way. You raise your eyebrows expectantly.

“Goodnight,” he blurts, turning on his heel and walking out. He can hear you saying it back as he leaves, a perplexed lilt in the word.

Days later, Steve sits surrounded by other high-ranking officers. Howard is there too, studying a diagram of a Hydra weapon you drew.

“...She suspects Schmidt is plotting something big, but she doesn’t know exactly what it is or where it could be headed,” Agent Carter concludes, standing at the head of the table. She debriefs the men while you continue to recover in the infirmary, not wanting the SSR to lose time while your body heals. “Questions, gentlemen?”

“This is everything she told you?” Colonel Phillips asks.

“Yes. It’s all she remembers as well. That drawing is all we have of a blueprint that shows how the Hydra weapons work.”

“Any information on where the power source is?” another man speaks up.

“With power such as that, I think it’s safe to assume Schmidt would keep it close. Can’t imagine he’d want it possibly falling into the wrong hands.”

“And she said it was a stone in a cube?”

Peggy makes a show of looking at her notes, “Yes, those are Schmidt’s words to her.”

“You think we can trust her?” he follows up quickly, speaking just as she finishes her sentence.

“I beg your pardon?” Her tone is taken aback as if the question was insulting to her. Steve can understand her offense, but if he’s honest, he wonders the same thing.

How could someone fall out of a truck and get away with injuries like yours? He would’ve thought you had a head wound and broken bones.

“Why is she even alive?” His follow up question is accusatory. “This is Hydra we’re talking about. They built weapons that disintegrate men and captured a scientist to create a super-soldier serum. They’re led by a lunatic with a melted face. There’s no way they would have kidnapped a mechanic and keep her alive. She worked for them. She knows too much. Why would they risk her escaping and telling us what she knows?”

“If it’s her loyalty you’re questioning, sir, you have no reason to. Hydra has killed everyone she holds dear. She has no family and even her mentor was killed by them. You all saw it. She was taken from her home that didn’t even have any German connections other than the Hydra spy she fitted with a prosthetic arm. Hydra has done nothing for her.” She pauses, appearing to inhale deeply to gather herself. “I don’t think we have any reason to suspect she is undercover on their behalf. I believe Colonel Phillips knows this well; she refused coming to Europe for the SSR in fear that Hydra would find her.”

He appears satisfied with her defense, raising his hands in surrender.

“Any more questions?” she asks, crossing her arms, her tone somewhat challenging.

After a moment, Colonel Phillips stands. “Thank you, Agent. Have a seat.” Nodding, she finds a chair next to Howard. “Now, we have decided to task our former mechanic with being Mr. Stark’s assistant in weapons and she’ll work with Agent Carter in tactics. She has good intel, but we don’t want her skills going to waste. I’m sure she can help think up some good ways to keep our boys safe. I will debrief with her again in the coming days to see if she remembers anything more.”

After opening the floor to questions again, Phillips dismisses the meeting. Steve watches from his seat as everyone gets up, scattering to their respective workplaces.

“Stark, Carter, get to work. We need to make sure Rogers and his men are well equipped and ready. Don’t wanna be sending our chorus girl into the fray in his little spangled suit.”

Phillips looks proud of his joke as he smiles for a split second. His face straightens quickly and he nods before dismissing himself.

“If you’ll excuse me, boys,” Peggy leaves shortly after. “Should attend to your tactics, Captain.”

“I should get to working on your stuff,” Howard excuses himself and pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll make sure you don’t look as ridiculous as you do on the stage.”

“Actually,” Steve stops him, “I kinda liked that uniform.”

Stark looks thoughtful for a minute before he laughs. “Well, I’ll find a compromise. The little miss absolutely hates that suit.”

Tilting his head and squinting, Steve leaves and heads towards the canteen.

-----

“I hear you hate my suit.”

The baritone of his voice pulls you from the pages you’re reading.

He stands in his dress greens again, a dashing smirk on his face as the lights illuminate him from behind, making his hair look like a golden halo above his head.

“Who told you that?” You close your book, looking at him curiously. Setting it on your bedside table, you sit up a little more.

“Stark,” he states plainly.

You chuckle once, shaking your head. You expect him to be laughing too, but when you look back up at him, he’s shuffling from one foot to the other.

“Um, did you--?” you begin, but he blurts out in the middle of your question, “Can I help you with anything?”

“I’m sorry?” you ask, confused.

“Well, I just...I was wondering if you needed anything. Are you hungry? Or how’s your leg?”

“Oh--”

“What about the pillow behind you, does that need to be fluffed? Maybe I could bring you another book.”

“Steve--?”

“Just...anything you need?”

You blink, waiting for him to continue. When he says nothing else, you pipe up. “Well, I’d love some water.”

He’s quick to accommodate you, walking to the cart on the other side of the room to grab a pitcher and bring it over to your bedside. He picks up the glass next to your book and begins to pour.

You’re not quite sure how it happened--perhaps some water got on the handle which made it slippery--but the metal vessel fell out of his grip and bounced on your mattress before clattering loudly on the floor.

The water is making itself known as it seeps through your blanket and your hospital gown, making you cringe away. Steve’s eyes are wide and his cheeks are rosy, the bright color spreading all the way to his ears.

“I’m so sorry!” He looks up at the hospital staff that heard the ruckus, “I’m sorry, it slipped. She needs a new gown...and bed.”

They come to assist you, a nurse nudging him out of the way as she lays some rags down to soak up the puddle on the floor.

“Excuse me, Captain,” she says politely.

He steps back, watching as the team helps you out of bed to stand on your feet. His heart sinks at the pain you must be in from your ribs, but it doesn’t show on your face.

“I’ll just,” he excuses himself, but no one is paying attention.

Shaking his head, he goes to the canteen to sulk.

---

“I’m back.”

Steve’s next to your new bed, hands carrying a tray and you can imagine the precarious journey he took to get from the canteen to here.

“You eat supper yet?”

“No.” You’re a little relieved. Your nose detects the comforting scent of buttered mashed potatoes and baked chicken. Steve sets the tray in your lap and your eyes gobble the sight, bright orange carrots brilliant against your eyes and a warm bread roll with a pat of butter inviting you to take a bite. “This is the best,” you gush, “I’ve eaten ham sandwiches and Jell-O for the past five days.”

You close your eyes at the feeling of airy, fluffy fresh bread in your mouth, loving the crunch of the crust between your teeth.

You moan happily before turning to him. “Thank you,” you smile.

He nods, “Of course. I hope it makes up for my stupid blunder earlier. I’m really sorry about that.”

You observe him as you take another bite, watching him as he watches you. You can’t describe it, but his face manages to say it all.

“Somehow I feel like you’re not here to just apologize for the spilled water. It really wasn’t a huge problem, by the way. They just moved me and gave me a new gown.”

“Well, I--” he gives a one-handed shrug before bringing his palm to the back of his neck, rubbing the skin there nervously. “I also just...wanted to say sorry.”

You hum, reaching to the bedside table and sipping from the glass of water. “‘Sorry’ for what?”

There’s a look in his eyes, something somber and guilt-ridden that makes the blue a little dull. “For leaving you. There. With them.”

Your head stings, eyes squeezing shut. You can feel your body jolt and a word echoes as if it’s coming from above you.

Befehl.

You shake your head vigorously, gasping a little.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Sorry, I’m not sure what happened.”

“Should I call the doctor?”

“No, no. I’m okay.” You gave your head another small jostle before addressing his apology. “Steve, you have nothing to be sorry about. I knew what I was getting into when I jumped out of the plane with you. I’m here now, I’m okay.”

“But I--”

“Steve, it was my choice.”

Your sentence seems to stun him into silence. He closes his eyes and gives a reluctant smile. “I guess you’re right.”

The corner of your mouth twitches up as he concedes. You eat for a few minutes, a little self conscious as you notice his watching you.

“So...uh, what’s your favorite color?”

You laugh. “Captain Rogers, why are you here other than to bring me dinner, give me a completely unnecessary apology, and ask me what my favorite color is?”

“Howard and Peggy are working tonight,” he uses his thumb to point to the door. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

There’s a flutter in your stomach, a surge of warmth and happiness that blooms in your chest, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your mouth or the heat that gathers in your face.

“Well, thank you,” you say as calmly as you can, trying to deflect your emotions by feeding yourself more supper. “How’s your friend? Bucky?”

He smiles, too, before diving into a story about him.

He stays as long as he can, telling you stories as you eat and try to not squirt water out of your nose when he makes you laugh. You forget there’s a battle raging on above your heads and across the English Channel. You forget there’s a chance of a Blitz in the evening, or even during the day.

Forgetting is dangerous. It’s a distraction from what’s really important and demands your attention.

But you don’t see anything wrong here when you’re on bedrest.

“They’ll be working again tomorrow,” he says as he gets up when visiting hours are over. “I don’t know when they’ll be free to visit. I could…” He hesitates, looking down and pursing his lips. “I could come by again. Bring you more dinner.”

You don’t mind being alone, but you don’t tell him that.

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boxofbadaddiction · 4 years ago

Text

A Likely Story

Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Swearing.

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 9, 16 & 18

"They don't know that we know they know"

"DANGER!"

"What a small world./Yet I never run into Beyoncè"

"What'd you tell George?"

"Told him I had detention with Snape for setting off Dungbombs in his Second Years class."

"Hmm, very believable."

"That's because it's true."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"What'd you tell your mates?"

"Just said I was going for a walk."

"Guess that'll do. Remind me to give you some pointers on how to lie when we get back."

"Very funny."

Every word spoken echoed off the damp walls of the One Eyed Witch Passage as Fred and Y/n made their way through the dark tunnel. The only source of light being the soft glow emitting from the tips of their wands, allowing only enough visibility to see just infront of them as they walked.

The pair were currently sneaking from the Castle on a day which were not allocated for any Hogsmead Visitations. It were a school day. However, rather than sitting about the Castle grounds for the two free periods in their schedules, Fred had the brilliant idea of escaping the unbearable reign of Umbridge - even if only for a few hours, by taking a trip into town.

"You know they know, right?"

"Ahh, but they don't know that we know they know. Now do they?" Fred grinned as he shoved y/ns shoulder with his own playfully, before intertwining their cold fingers. "I fail to see how that matters" "makes it all the more fun." "Whatever makes you happy, Big Guy." "You mean, aside from you?"

Y/n rolled her eyes at his cheesiness, but smiled nonetheless. Stopping abruptly from a harsh tug at her hand, one that had her being pulled flush against Fred - chest to chest.

Threading his wand between his fingers, he brought his other hand to the back of y/ns neck and kissed her deeply.

The kiss left her flushed, biting her lip to suppress a giddy smile which naturally only caused a smug grin to appear on the face of her partner.

Sensing how inflated his ego was becoming y/n stepped back, shoving his chest, "Hurry up and get me out of here, loverboy, I'm freezing."

This wasn't the first time the two had been in a situation such as this. They had been in a relationship for quite a few months now but were keeping it secret - for the most part anyway, but they knew the others were suspicious.

There were several reasons why they felt their relationship needed to remain secret. One being for the fact Y/n were a Slytherin. Whom for as long as anyone could remember had despised the Weasleys, and vice versa. The second, and most crucial reason was due to y/ns family. She was a Y/l/n. A family who, like the Malfoys and LeStrange, were blood purists and for that matter hated Muggles, Muggleborns and Blood Traitors alike. A trait not inherited by that of the y/l/ns only daughter. Y/n.

After overcoming the years of conditioning by her parents; painting the Weasleys, anyone alike and Muggleborns as the enemy or lessers, she'd surrounded herself with friends of all houses and blood-status.

She even discovered there to be a remarkable amount of similarities between herself and that of the Redheaded family. Soon enough finding herself regularly in comfortable conversation with the Twins during their shared classes, after years of the ridiculous feud between them buried itself in the past. It then naturally didn't take long for her to start falling for the older, louder, Twin.

Though people acknowledged she were different to her family the pair were still hesitant about the reaction they'd receive being together in public, so they thought it best to keep to themselves. Which lead to a lot of sneaking around. Hence todays secret date in Hogsmead.

A few moments later Fred and Y/n reached the trap door of Honeydukes Cellar. Fred was the one to check the coast were clear. Smiling as he watched the owners feet retreating up the basements staircase to the store above. Piece of Cauldron Cake he thought. They silently slipped through the shop, completely unnoticed.

Glad to finally have the freedom to be with one another openly the two let out relieved breaths upon being met with the chilly fresh air of Hogsmead.

They happily strolled throughout the streets hand-in-hand going about their usual routine. A quick stop to The Three Broomsticks for a couple Butterbeers then off to what they'd deemed as "their spot", a clearing by the forest over looking the Shrieking Shack where they regularly met of a weekend for lunch and much needed time together.

Fred was spinning his girlfriend as if dancing as they walked, smiling, laughing and unashamedly flirting loudly as they did so.

The two were in a world of their own as they rough housed in the soft snow, throwing handfuls at one another. Unfortunately, blissfully unaware of the approaching complication in their secret rendezvous.

"Well, well, well." Came a cold voice from behind them, one which sent chills down y/ns spine - she would know that voice anywhere. Lucius Malfoy.

The teenagers turned with identical deadpan expressions to the man before them. "What a small world." "And yet I never run into Beyoncè" y/n countered sarcastically, her tone bitter and harsh.

"Whatever would one make of this, Hmm? A y/l/n fraternising with a Weasley..." Luicus eyed Fred with distaste, as if it were unsettling to simply be in his presence.

Fred stood tall and firm in place; a murderous glare thrown towards the arrogant man as he grit his teeth.

"One?" Y/ns brow raised in question, her voice drawing Malfoys attention back to her. He simply nodded in response, causing the girl to scoff as realisation struck. An exasperated smile tugging at her lips whilst she spoke, "Right. Going to rat me out to Daddy for having a friend, Lucius?" "But of course not." He took a step closer to the couple, "for being outside the grounds of Hogwarts, accompanied by an irresponsible and perpetually reckless boy however..." y/n swallowed harshly, a wave of fear coursing through her veins as her confidence faltered.

"Well, one might say it were my responsibility to report your little...adventure today. My, I can't begin to imagine the misfortune one might be subjected to less the High Inquisitor learn of such a blatant disregard for school protocols. Those for the offenders...or the Headmaster for that matter."

Y/n was silently panicking at these words. Dumbledore has already been on thin ice with the Ministry recently. If anyone finds out, well...that'd be the end of him.

"Of course however, y/n, you would be forgiven on account of your-" "Father." "-innocence, clearly under the manipulation of this one, whom would naturally be expelled." Lucius lazily waved his hand towards Fred. "You don't even know which Weasley 'this one' is." Y/n snapped. "Unimportant. I imagine Delores will be thrilled at the opportunity of finally ridding both from the school. And as for Dumbledore-"

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Malfoy." Fred finally spoke. Stepping forward to stand slightly infront of y/n protectively. His jaw and fists were clenched in rage, knuckles turning ghostly white under the strain in his grip. "Am I?" "Yes. To snitch on us you'd first need proof we were here in the first place." "You Weasleys truly are daft. I believe I have all the 'proof' I'll be needing. Given the fact you are stood right here before me, far from the saftey of the school grounds." "Are we?" Fred subtly reached for y/ns hand as he spoke, holding her palm tight behind his back, eyes staring directly into Malfoys challenging his dominance.

"Because I'm sure if you were to go to the Castle right now; I could be found with my brother and y/n here...undoubtedly studying in the Library." "Is that so?" Lucius had a rather done and ugly expression on his face at Freds antics, whom began smiling wickedly. Uttering a simple "yep." In response.

Their stare-off was broken as Fred glanced over Malfoys shoulder, raising his free arm to wave he greeted loudly, "Hello, Hagrid!" This causing the blonde man to turn in his direction. That was Fred's cue. Taking advantage of the moment and apparating the pair to the passage of the Shrieking Shack.

They took off running, hand-in-hand as they manoeuvred the winding tunnel to the school. Sprinting so quickly that even the Whomping Willow were too slow to react to their sudden appearance as they breached the grounds.

As they reached the, thankfully empty, courtyard they finally allowed themselves the opportunity to breathe and dropped the hold of one anothers hand. Fred swallowed thickly to ease the burning in his throat, "you have to-" "yeah. And you need to-" "yeah."

Exhausted and amused chuckles fell from their lips at the understanding shared between them. Placing one final, frantic, kiss to one anothers lips as goodbye they held each other close not wanting to let go. One of y/ns hands gripped Freds hair tightly whilst the other bunched in the fabric of his shirts collar. Both his hands placed securely on her waist. Y/n whines, knowing he won't be able to break the kiss himself, focusing all her strength she pushed from his chest, "Go" she whispered. Sighing frustratedly from the loss of his lips on hers he nods in agreement before both begin running in opposite directions.

Now thankful he had such a large family Fred was quickly successful in finding a family member to cling himself to. Barrelling down the corridor to where Ron and Harry were walking and conversing over whatever, with their backs to him. Overestimating the force of his current momentum he collided forcefully with the boys shoulders in attempt to steady himself, nearly toppling all three.

"What's your problem!?" Ron snapped angrily. "DANGER!" Fred whisper yelled, very out of breath. The scene brought a rather wide smile to Harrys face, watching as the Twin clutched his side painfully and tried to speak. "If-If anyone asks. I've been here the whole-WHOLE time. Okay!?" He was gesturing wildly between the three of them as he spoke, appearing desperate.

"Oh yeah? And what's in it for us?" Ron asked cockily. "For you, little Brother..." "anything?" He smiled smugly, earning a clap on the shoulder from his flustered older brother. "Not quite, Ronniekins."

Fred's eyes turned dark as he straightened himself, grip tightening on Rons shoulder like a vice. "Cover for me this time and you get to live another day." Ron was wincing at the pain being inflicted by the hold on his shoulder, "You-you can't do anything to me." Harry looked sceptical at this, it was Fred Weasley afterall.

"Can't I? It's a big Castle, Ronnie. Accidents happen." Fred's stare hadn't left Ron's eyes the whole time he spoke. A smirk forming on his face as if taking joy in the countless possibilities he had playing on his mind.

Noticing the poorly restrained fear spreading through his brother as Ron gulped thickly he lightened his grip knowing he's won.

"F-fine. Doesn't bother me anyway. Not like it's a huge inconvenience is it, Harry?" Ron tried to play the moment off cooly, though the panic was evident on his voice. "Not at all" Harry laughed but suddenly his expression soured. Looking forward to the entrance of the hall.

"Is that...Lucius?" The Weasleys heads turned to see the pale face of Malfoy striding towards them accompanied by Delores and...oh God. Freds blood ran cold.

"It is, and Titus Y/l/n! What are they doing here?" Ron growled.

"Danger. Danger. Danger." Fred mumbled from the side of his mouth, avoiding eye contact and looking quite nervous, though he played it off much better than his brother had. The boys looked up to him "You didn't..." they spat. Fred cleared his throat as a warning, and it worked just as well as a confession in Harry and Rons opinion, as the three adults approached.

"Potter." "Malfoy."

"Weasley." "Y/l/n."

"Eh-hem" the teens rolled their eyes. "Professor?"

"Tell me, Mr Weasley" she began, looking straight to Fred, "can you account for your whereabouts this afternoon?" "With these two."

"Where's your Twin?" Lucius rudely interrupted. "Haven't the foggiest. Since, ya know...I'm not with him." "It is strange" Umbridge began, "that you are without your Twin, seeing as how you are rarely to find one without the other." She giggled sickly. "Yeah, rarely. But not never."

At his words Lucius' expression became proud and more confident, turning to Delores now to speak. "He's the one. I'm sure of it." "The one what?"

"Enough of this. My daughter, where is she?" Titus interjects. "What...y/n? Stuffed if I know. Don't fancy myself much a snake charmer. What's with the interrogation?"

"Well it would seem, Mr Malfoy here has a rather interesting story to share on the topic of two seventh years strolling about Hogsmead not even an hour ago. A Weasley and-"

"My daughter. Where is she!?"

"I've already told you. I don't know!" Titus began advancing on Fred, rage burning clear in his eyes, "I'm warning you, Weasley. If you've in anyway involved yourself with y/n I will-"

"Dad?" A soft voice called from the end of the corridor. "Y/n." The girl looked around at the gathered group confusedly before stepping between Fred, Harry and Ron to embrace her Father in a quick greeting. "What are you doing here?" "Where have you been?" "Where-what? I've been-" "the Library perhaps?" Lucius raised a mocking brow. "What? No I-I was taking a walk by the Lake." "A likely story."

"Lucius here, tells me you were in Hogsmead with this boy." Titus gestures to Fred a venom held behind his voice.

Y/n looks over Fred with visible disgust, whilst he smiles coldly back. "Why on Earth would I ever surround myself with the likes of them?" She spits. Looking back to her Father as if highly insulted by his accusation.

Titus observes the interaction carefully as if watching for any weakness in their story. But he finds none. His expression softens as he turns back to his daughter completely. "I apologise, y/n/n. Lucius was obviously mistaken." He glares back over his shoulder to the blonde man who scoffs in response. "I would nev-" "Save it, Lucius." Titus growls. "But, Titus if I may, why would Mr Malfoy report this if it were not-" "you may not." The girls father puts an end to Umbridges interruption as she'd attempted to defend the other man. "I trust my daughter to know of the correct company to keep. Lucius was obviously mistaken and has by extension wasted my time."

Thankfully the adults were too busy bickering for anyone to notice the small smiles that threaten to break onto the faces of the gathered teenagers.

"I'm sorry, dear. I must be leaving now and I hope your studies are going well." "They are Dad, I'll write you and Mum tonight to fill you in on everything. Just as I always do." Y/n smiled. Titus pulled his daughter in for a final hug, placing a soft kiss to her forehead before turning to leave, with a last menacing glare to Delores and Lucius he walked away.

"Well. That will be all, the four of you off to your Common rooms immediately to prepare for dinner. Mr Malfoy if you'd follow me I'll escort you from the Castle." Umbridge spoke.

Harry and Ron couldn't contain their giggles at the insulted reaction shown by Malfoy as he turned to leave.

Lucius took one final look over his shoulder to the teens, who had not moved, being met with the taunting smile and small wave of y/n with Fred now standing confidently beside her.

Once finally out of sight the couple fell into hysterics, Fred wrapping an arm around y/ns shoulder as they laughed.

"What the bloody hell did you two do!?" Ron asked through a wide grin. "Just took a quick trip into town that's all..." "Safe to say our secrets out, Freddie." Y/n whispered to him as she noted all the students watching the group, paying particular attention to Freds arm around her. "Secret? You kidding! You two are the most obvious people on the planet!" Harry quipped. "George has been taking bets on how long it'll take for you two to just come out and admit it." "I know." Spoke Fred, "I had Colin Creevey place 7 Sickles on it for me." "You bet on us!?" "The odds were on my side! But thanks to Malfoy date-crashing I'm out of it now."

"About that, how did you two get back here so fast?" Ron questions.

"We apparated to The Shack then hauled ass." Y/n answered. "The pros of being 17" Fred winked, pulling y/n back into his chest, resting his chin atop her head. As his arms wrapped around her she nestled herself comfortably within his embrace with a lovestruck smile.

"Right well, as amusing as that was, this-" Ron guestured to the couple, "is gonna turn my stomach. And I'm starving so, Harry, coming to get ready for dinner?" the bluntness causing his best friend to roll his eyes with a chuckle. "Yeah alright. And I'll be sure to tell George all about this if we run into him along the way." Harry joked, waving to the couple as they walked towards the Gryffindor common room.

They stood there for a moment, contently basking in each others warmth before y/n turned in place to face her boyfriend with a cheekily grin. "So, still think I need tips on how to lie?" Fred clicks his jaw as he pretends to be deep in thought. Nodding slowly as he answers, "yeah, yep. Absolutely." "I just successfully dooped not only my Father but Delores fucking Umbridge! Okay? I deserve a frickin' gold star."

Fred can't help but laugh at her comment. "Alright, first of all. 'Dooped'? That is the least cool thing you've ever said. Secondly, you're so cute when you get all sassy. And unfortunately for you, I'm fresh out of gold stars...but I'll happily reward you for that semi-decent performance." Y/ns mouth falls open at the last words, "semi-decent!?" Fred nods innocently, "You sir, are a twat!" She states firmly as she pushes out of his arms making the redhead laugh loudly.

Taking a strong grip to her wrist as she begins to walk away he pulls her back to him, wrapping an arm around her waist as the other fists the hair at the nape of her neck pulling her lips into his.

The kiss is hard and passionate, as if he's trying to make up for their spoiled date in this one moment. And it's working, fireworks erupt within y/ns chest as goosebumps spread over her skin and she can't help the soft moans that sound from her throat. It's perfect.

Fred smiles as he rests his forehead against hers, feeling like he's drunk an entire Cauldron of love potion. "You were brilliant today, love." He whispers. "Fred, that kiss was...wow." he hums in response. "I still want the star though." she goads making him roll his eyes and throw his head back in exasperation. She can feel the silent laughter radiate through his body as she holds him close bringing her head to rest against his chest.

Freds arms hold y/n tighter as he lets out a comfortable sigh, placing his head atop of hers. Eyes softly closing in complete bliss. As fun as all the sneaking around was he could get used to this. Holding her when, where and for as long as he wants? To Fred, that sounds exactly like Heaven.

#fred weasley x reader #f.r.i.e.n.d.s #F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List #hp imagine #hp fanfiction #harry potter #george weasley #hp #fred weasley #harry potter fanfiction #weasley twins #harry potter imagine #ron weasley #Lucius Malfoy #Delores Umbridge

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fandomsonrequests · 4 years ago

Text

𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓..? [𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 12]

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: prince! park seonghwa

reader: fem! knight

word count: 4.5k+

summary: It was time for another Selection. No- not a Selection for a bride but rather a well-trained knight to keep Prince Seonghwa safe after a failed assassination attempt. You, a blacksmith’s daughter, manage to make it to the elite group of knights worthy and skilled enough to protect the crown prince after months and months of training. This alone catches Seonghwa’s eyes- in more ways than one

a/n: part 12! that’s a lot more than i usually write lmao sjsks but we have more seonghwa interactions! i hope you enjoy! this is unedited, so i apologize for spelling errors!

taglist: @iwanttohitmyself @minihongjoong @i-purrple-u @taetae123094 @jeonartemis @barcelona-sergei @theoinkypiglet @sparklychangbin @krystal-cole @mangotexts @tooweirdforyou @park-simphwa @seonghwaskitten

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It’s been two weeks since the first round of elimination. Out of the fifty delegates that arrived, only half remained— ten females and the rest males.

The dining hall then was filled with goodbyes and some sobs as a guard came to collect the eliminated delegates. Fortunately, they were allowed to keep the uniforms provided for them to serve as a memoir for their time spent here. It seems like a form of mockery to others, a reminder of their failure, but it was better than heading home with nothing.

Seonghwa remembers watching from his spot in his room as the remaining delegates rush to bid their friends a farewell. They remained by the palace gates, waving and jumping goodbye. He felt a slight tug in his chest, a pang of pity if you will, at the sight. From his time spent observing the delegates, he noticed how some had developed seemingly tight knit friendships. It was heartbreaking to see them end there.

Now it was a new day. More lessons from the duke and the captain of the guards, this time being more rigorous than the last.

With a sigh, Seonghwa pulls away from looking out the window and goes about his morning routine: wash up, dress for the day, and have breakfast with his parents. By the time he was finished the delegates were already holed away in the library for their new set of lessons. The young prince on the other hand had some free time to spare before his lessons in diplomacy and kingdom relations.

He makes his way to the royal garden with another book in hand. He was probably on the fourth one of the series he was reading. The garden was situated at the back of the palace, stretching far and wide and housing the most elegant and colorful flowers one could ever see. He bows his head humbly whenever he passes by the gardeners, greeting them a good morning.

“Good morning, my prince,” Says one of the old gardeners. She was a rather frail looking and small framed woman. But anyone who knew her would say that she could walk and work for hours. And that one smile from her can brighten anyone’s day.

“Good morning, Auntie Florence.” Seonghwa greets, stopping in his tracks to kiss her cheek. He wasn’t related to her in any way but he frequented the garden so much, ever since he was child, that the old woman practically helped raise him. “The garden looks blooming today.”

“That’s because the rains have blessed them last week,” Florence croaks, flashing him one of her gummy smiles. “Ah, by the way Prince Seonghwa. Lady Ayeong is waiting for you in the gazebo, I believe she wants to talk to you.”

The young prince quirked a brow at this but thanked the gardener nonetheless. He makes his way over to the gazebo in the middle of the garden. It was built in the middle of a makeshift pond, its pointed roof painted white while columns of marble held it up. True to Florence’s word, there among the plush benches of the gazebo, awaited the young woman, her back to him. Her head was lowered, seemingly staring at something on her lap, as if she were deep in thought.

“Ayeong,” Seonghwa calls out to her gently. The duke’s daughter turned to him, a soft smile on her painted lips.

“Seonghwa, come sit.” She coaxes and pats the space towards her. “You don’t mind if we talk for a while do you?”

“Oh no, not at all.” He promptly heads over to the bench and sits beside her. Although, he maintained a rather respectable distance from her.

They were well past the first stages of awkwardness but a sliver of tension remains. Maybe it was the pressure of knowing that they’d one day be married to each other, maybe it was having to keep up a good impression. It felt kind of fake that they’d have to put up with this kind of demeanor around each other. Maybe they weren’t all that comfortable with each other just yet.

“Oh, I had no idea you were into romance novels, Seonghwa.” Ayeong speaks up when she notices the book in his hand.

The young man looked down at the novel and chuckled quite bashfully, a little embarrassed of being found out. “It’s probably ‘wimpy’ of me to be interested in such things, isn't it?”

“Not at all,” she responds genuinely with a shake of her head. “I think people are entitled to like whatever genre of novel without being ridiculed for it. It honestly doesn’t make sense to me as to why men can’t like romance... or that women can’t like philosophy.

“I find it very unnecessary times.. when they impose these standards on us because ‘it’s only fitting for people of our stature,’” She scoffs, tucking a strand of hair away from her cheek when a breeze flies by. “Hopefully that changes soon.”

Seonghwa knew, since they were young, that Ayeong was a strong willed young woman. She always stood up for what’s right and spoke up on behalf of the people that couldn’t. Most of the time, it garnered disappointed shakes of the head or disapproving whispers but it never deterred her. She was willing to make a point and fight to get it across.

“You’ve really never changed, have you?” Seonghwa asks with a small chuckle and a shake of his head.

The young woman lifts brow as she playfully hits the young prince’s shoulder. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

The two share a short but mirthful laugh before lapsing into silence once again. Only this time, it didn’t feel as awkward. Ayeong opened her mouth as if to say something but was interrupted as Hongjoong came jogging towards them. She pursued her lips together and quieted down. Hongjoong bows towards the pair before straightening up.

“I’m sorry Lady Ayeong but I’m going to have to take Prince Seonghwa away. Madame Olga is here for his lessons.” The shorter man said.

Seonghwa sighed but complied; his tutor always favored punctuality. “Thank you for the company, Ayeong.” He says and nodded his head at her.

“No, thank you. I’ll see around then.” She waved goodbye to him returning to her own thoughts again, deciding to refrain from telling him what she wanted to earlier.

As the young prince looked back at the duke’s daughter, he couldn’t help but wonder what she had wanted to say. It nagged at the back of his head during his lessons, making Madame Olga snap her fingers at him when she noticed that he wasn’t paying attention.

“Focus, Prince Seonghwa. You’re quite distracted today— is anything wrong?" The old tutor asks with folded arms.

“It’s nothing, Madame Olga.” The prince answers and returns his focus to the woman before him.

The day goes on as usual lessons in the morning, training in the afternoon. By the time lunch was over the delegates were back in the courtyard under the heat of the sun. The only difference this time is that you were dealing with actual swords.

You could feel your sweat drip down your cheek as you practically baked within the light chainmail you wore to protect yourself. You’d grimace whenever the sun’s rays reflected off of the swords, it’s glinting lights blinding you whenever it hit your eyes.

“Same rules apply but be cautious this time,” Byron instructs and stares pointedly at the troublemakers among you. “These swords may actually harm you. No simple bruises will come out of this but wounds and blood. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good. Now begin!”

You face Raviv, your usual partner in training, and point your sword at him. You didn’t worry too much about your grip and technique with the weapon but it was still nerve racking to finally use it against an actual person. The only time you’ve ever tried something like this was when your father let you hold a blade he was making and let you rain down hell on the poor tree behind your home.

You circle around your friend for a moment before lunging at him. The sound of metal against metal rang through the air and you struck again. Raviv has certainly improved on his technique and grew stronger. He could practically take you down in a few moves but you were quick enough on your feet.

“I see you’ve improved your joust, good sir!” You exclaim haughtily, swiping across him.

“Why thank you Madame,” Raviv replied just as mockingly. He grunts as he brings down two consecutive strikes against you. “And you’ve improved your speed. Why not run away from this battle instead?”

“And let you reclaim all the glory?” You let out an obnoxious, pompous laugh that caused your friend to snort in amusement. “Oh hohohoho, you’re quite ambitious. But I shall never relinquish my blade against yours!”

“Then prepare to taste the bitterness of loss, Madame! Hiyaah—“

Raviv lunged at you, thrusting his sword right at you. You exclaim in surprise and jump to the side, almost stumbling on your footing at that. You manage to miss the blade by a margin and glare playfully at him. You knew he was challenging you. He wouldn’t really put your life at risk like this unless he knew what you were capable of.

But before you could retaliate, Hae-seong walked in with a maid pitifully scrambling after him with a parasol to protect him from the sun. “Attention, ladies and gentlemen..!” He squawks, effectively halting your movements.

“I have an important announcement to make,” He continues. “I’m afraid training will be cut short today. You’re all required to freshen up and look presentable before the prince as he will be talking to each of you individually.”

This sparks conversation amongst all of you. The delegates all whispered to each other excitedly at the prospect of being able to personally meet the crown prince. You, on the other hand, we’re excited to finally get another chance to meet up with him again. Only this time, you didn’t have to sneak around the palace.

“Oh, _____, can you imagine? We’re gonna meet the prince.” Raviv says as he shakes your shoulders lightly.

Guilt gnawed at the back of your head; you haven’t exactly come clean to your friends that you’ve had a chance to meet him already. Twice in fact. Nevertheless, you were still happy. At least Seonghwa got a chance to personally meet your friends, even if you weren’t really the one to introduce them.

“I wonder what he’s gonna be like…” Raviv muses as he leans against you, putting most of his weight on you. He chuckles while you struggle to hold him up.

You push him off of you with a grunt. “Yeah.. I bet he’s great.”

“You may now freshen up. The prince is expecting you lot, soon.” Hae-seong drawls out before turning around on his heels and heading back inside.

“Well, you heard the duke,” Byron says with a warm smile. “Start getting ready.”

You all line up properly and return to your rooms. It was a nice change to be able to have more time to bathe and relax; you didn’t have to hurry up too much to avoid taking up too much of the others’ time.

Siyeon turns to you excitedly once you return to the room, her wet hair wrapped up in a towel. “______! This is so exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. What do you think the prince would say? What’s he like? I hope I don’t bungle up things-”

“Wolfie, you’re gonna do great! Don’t worry too much.” You reassure your friend with a playful shove to her shoulder. “You’re a social being, I don’t think he’d have a negative view on you.”

“You speak like you know the prince,” She smirks at you as she unravels the towel from her head and brings her brush to her hair.

You knew she was just teasing you but it still made you nervous that maybe she had caught on. Nevertheless, you played it cool and rolled your eyes in amusement. You threw on your best clothes, a simple blouse and a pair of trousers Siyeon had gifted to you on your birthday.

After fixing your hair and drying it, you were practically ready to meet the prince. You looked around to the other girls to see if they were done getting ready. As your eyes scanned their neatly pressed dresses and colorful clothing, you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. It was only then did you notice that the majority of the girls that had made it past elimination was from the city-towns.

You tried not to let this get to you, especially since a couple of those city girls warmed up to the rest of you. The others… not so much.

“I wonder what he’ll talk about.” You heard Adrianna, one of the girls from the Capitol, ask. “I bet he’ll ask about the political climate.”

“Maybe,” her friend, Ryuko, responded before glancing back over to you and Siyeon. A mischievous smirk adorns her lips as she brushes her hair over her shoulder. “I guess some people are lucky they’re literate enough to comprehend some things.. or at least seem like it,” She feigns innocence but her voice was loud enough for you to hear.

Her and her little group chuckled to themselves as if they’ve said the most clever thing in the universe. Irina, a girl from a mining town, scoffed at them, mumbling to herself in her town’s dialect. She glanced up, accidentally meeting your gaze, to which you awkwardly pulled away from. Irina simply chuckled at your action.

“Don’t worry I don’t bite,” She reassures you— her accent thick. “Unless you’re one of those girls.”

Now it was your turn to let out a laugh of your own. Sure those girls were nasty but you tried not to pay no mind to them. Just focus on yourself.

You were awkwardly waiting by the tables in the library, anxiously tapping your foot against the marbled floor. Off by the couches at the farthest window was the prince and one of the male delegates from Sinna, a city-town. Their voices weren’t heard from where you were but you could see from the way the delegate was animatedly moving their arms around that they were having a rather pleasant discussion.

You found it kind of ironic but no less amusing that you were supposed to meet the prince here. It was almost as if fate was foreshadowing your meeting with him.. or it got too excited and decided to speed things along so that you’d meet on that fateful night almost a month ago.

You decided to read as you waited, wanting to get your mind off of your nerves. (You didn’t even know why you were so nervous. It’s just like talking to a friend.) Luckily enough, Hae-seong allowed you without one of his offhanded insults. Maybe he was having a good day… You picked a book off the shelf, turning it over in your hand to read the title: The Iliad.

You return to the table, getting lost in the world of Odysseus that you had conjured up in your imagination. And for a while, your nerves disappeared. You immersed yourself in Odysseus’ different travels and adventures. You were practically so invested in the novel that you almost didn’t register your name being called. You jolted out of your trance when Siyeon poked your shoulder, glancing up to see the familiar pointed look Hae-seong threw at you.

“Miss _____, don’t make me repeat your name for the third time. It’s your turn to speak to the prince.” He huffs.

You scramble out of your seat and you heard a few chuckles and sneers of amusement from the other delegates. You absentmindedly bring the book along, your nerves suddenly returning and hitting you with full force. As you approach Seonghwa though, you couldn’t help but feel a little at ease when he flashes you his charming smile.

“Ah, so that’s why you’ve ignored me,” He teases as he motioned to the book. “I don’t blame you— its a great book.”

“Sorry about that, your highness.” You apologize sheepishly as you sat across him, setting the book into his hand when he held it out. “But yes, it really is a great book.”

“Well it suits you. The story, I mean.” He sets it down by the window sill and turns to look at you.

Seeing him up close in the light of day was much different than seeing him at night under the dim light of the moon. The sun’s rays glinted off of his luscious and well kept curls, reflecting back against the elegant crown that sat upon his head. You could finally appreciate his features, from his sharp nose, to his strong jaw, and all the way up to his bright eyes that held some sort of childish wonder to it.

He was absolutely ethereal.

“What do you mean by that?” You manage to say when you break from your trance.

“You’re somewhat like Odysseus. You’re both determined to get your end goal— and you’ll stop at nothing to do so,” He deduced and leaned against the couch’s backrest. “Or at least, that’s what your eyes say.”

“My eyes?”

“Yes, you’re eyes. You have this… this determined yet intimidating look in it whenever you’re faced with a challenge.”

You do..? You were so puzzled yet impressed on how he was able to detect that from you… and why he was able to do so. Did he look at you often whenever he observed the whole group during training? Or did you bring too much attention to yourself whenever Hae-seong scolds you for the upteenth time that day. Whatever the reason, you didn’t think that the prince, out of all people, would pay this much attention to you.

“Speaking of which, what is your end goal? You never really told me.”

A wave of nostalgia, and homesickness, washes over you. You release a sigh, shoulders sagging. You fish out the simple necklace that was left to you, untying it from your neck and holding it out to Seonghwa.

“This,” You point to it, dropping it in his waiting palm. “This is my end goal. You know how my father runs a smithy back in Trelark, right?” He nods and you continue. “Well, I promised him that one day, I’ll get him the life he deserves. Open another smithy and bring in more money so that he’d never work another day in his life again.

“But then this selection thing came up. It’s not exactly what I had planned, but it was something. A warmer home, a softer bed, better food to eat,” You listed off and stared out the window. The town looked nice at this time of day. “And maybe, a chance to heal. Not only physically but emotionally.”

The prince remains silent at your heartfelt confession. That explained a lot of things about you. Why you valued your relationship with people so much and why, despite the many times you’ve fallen, always pick yourself back up and strike back with even more vigor.

A fond smile graces his lips as he looks down at the necklace you handed over to him. His delicate fingers ran along the smooth edges of the marble pendant as if tracing the memories held within it. “You really love your family a lot, don’t you _____?”

“They’re all I have,” You mumble when he gives the necklace back over to you. “The whole world can turn around on its head for all I care. As long as I have them, it’s all that matters to me.”

Hearing that stirs something within Seonghwa- a warm but heavy feeling inside his chest. He knows he has a lot of duties as a prince to take care of his kingdom, to give most - if not all - of them a good and stable life. But hearing you say this really spurred a sense of urgency to do better and to find practical yet effective ways to alleviate his kingdom.

He rests a hand on your knee, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I believe in you, _____. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this.”

“Why would I not trust you? I mean, I’m literally fighting so that I’d end up as the one protecting your life. If anything, you should be the one doubting me.” You chuckle, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“I suppose so,” He muses.

The two of you continued to talk till your time with him for the day was up. He told you about how pleased he was to finally be able to meet Siyeon and Raviv, since you’ve told him about them before. He even talked about his slow but steady progress in mending his relationship with Ayeong. You were glad that he was able to move past that awkward stage and was now talking to her like nothing ever happened between them. He was more open in talking about him this time; last time you were with him it was mostly you who did the talking. You never knew how complicated, and boring, the royal life was until he spilled it all to you. Your lives were so different from each other yet here you were— exchanging stories and learning from one another.

You learned that he had an older brother, who was now living in the kingdom where his father came from. He was married to the princess there and had twins- one boy and one girl. It was quite a bit endearing to see the prince gush over his niece and nephew. His eyes sparkled with love and whenever he gets excited, his hands move animatedly.

Before you knew it, your time with the prince was up. Hae-seong walked over to the two of you and cleared his throat. “Prince Seonghwa, your time with Miss _____ is up. I shall call on the next delegate.” Seonghwa nodded. “Thank you Duke Hae-seong. Let me just wrap up my conversation with _____.”

The nobleman nodded and turned on his heel to collect the next person. Before you could stand to bow towards the prince he reached out to you, making you pause in your actions. You look at him quizzically, quirking your brow up at him.

“I almost forgot to ask; would you and the rest of the delegates like it if you were given a break? Just a few days off to rest and recuperate. Maybe even go around Capitol; the first Autumn Light festival is coming up soon. Maybe you’d like to witness that.”

Your eyes brightened at this. You haven’t been able to appreciate the city when you arrived. Aside from that, you were barely able to write more than a few letters to send back home to your family. Heck- you didn’t even have the time to send those letters. So of course you didn’t pass up an opportunity like this.

You nod your head with a grin, excitement bubbling within you. “I can’t speak for all of them but I’m sure most of us would enjoy that.”

Seonghwa nods and releases you before bowing his head humbly. “Well then, until the next time we meet.”

You curtsey in response, a playful glint in your eyes. “I’ll look forward to it, your highness.”

He chuckled and watched as you walked away. It was only when the next delegate came in did he draw his attention away from you. There was truly something about you that had drawn you to him.

“He was so nice and charming,” Siyeon gushes as you brush her hair.

It was late at night and everyone was preparing for bed. Once again, the girls were huddled into little groups or off by themselves doing whatever fascinated them at the moment. Now the chatter was about their time with the prince instead of the usual recap of the day. It was a nice change of pace, you all needed slow days like this.

“And his teeth— he has such nice teeth. I want nice teeth,” She pouts and turns to look at you.

“But you do have nice teeth, Wolfie.” You tell her as you shake your head. You set down her brush by her bedside table and flopped onto your own bed. “Your teeth are so nice they’re practically blinding.”

Siyeon huffs out a partially sarcastic laugh before tossing one of her pillows at you. “Ahhh, I can't wait till we meet him again. It was so nice talking to him.” She sighs as she lay sprawled all over her mattress. “Okay enough about me. What did you two talk about?”

You throw the pillow back at her and hum in thought. “Not much. Same as you: how my day has been, what things are like back at home, all of that.”

You felt bad for not coming clean to your friend— especially since it was unfair. But you promised yourself that you’d tell her and Raviv one day. Now was just not the right timing. You push the thought to the back of your head and move to settle under the covers.

“That’s it?” She prodded, convinced that you were holding back something. “Come on, you can tell meeeee~ I doubt it was just mundane stuff when you two were talking so excitedly with one another. Was it the book you brought with you?”

Your heart pounded rapidly against your rib cage at her suggestion but soon calmed down when she brought up the book. Thank the gods she noticed that. “Fine fine, we did talk about the book. But that’s all.. well— wait he actually asked if we wanted to have a break and I said yes. So maybe we’ll have some rest.”

Siyeon’s eyes widened animatedly at that. A large grin adorned her beautiful face and she bolted upright from her bed. “Seriously?? We get to have a break? Can we go around Capitol? I want to see the whole place.”

You chuckle at her reaction, leaning against your arm. “I think we can, hopefully; that’s if Hae-seong doesn’t throw a fit at the idea.”

You two chuckle at the little jab you put against the duke. Mina soon comes in to tell you that it was time for bed and curfew has started. You found it a little childish for this part of the nightly routine but you suppose it was implemented in order to keep the castle quiet and orderly at night.

As you blow out your candle and settle into bed, allowing your exhaustion to finally lull you to sleep, you think about the next days to come. Especially your next meeting with the prince.

And in the opposite wing of the castle, as Seonghwa shuffled into bed, he was thinking of the same thing.

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