#I swear the second I open my eyes tomorrow morning I will check the titles of the new songs

[fabiolajyx]

✨️ Me manifesting a Gil and Olivia duo in tomorrow's episode ✨️

[kkodzvken]

suit up - hawks x f. reader

the one where keigo marries the girl of his dreams, and then takes her home and shows her just how loved she is. title cred/inspo: suit up by jonghyun

notes/warnings: smut and fluff (your teeth may rot and fall out, you’ve been warned), soft dom!keigo, praise kink, slight size kink, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex + creampie. reader and kei use the traffic light safe word system and they review it beforehand, and he checks in with her at one point but she’s green, so everything is 100% consensual. they flirt + kei says explicit things at the reception but nothing /actually/ happens in public. mentions of alcohol

wc: 5.3k

a/n: this idea’s been bouncing around my head for a while bc i wanna marry this dumbass so bad :’) my first full hawks fic!! im so happy hehe

Beautiful.  

You’re so beautiful.

Keigo’s always known, of course. He’s found you beautiful since the very first moment that he laid his eyes on you, all those years ago. He tells you that you’re beautiful every single day, no matter how much you roll your eyes or jokingly tell him to shut up.

You’re beautiful all the time, but there are certain moments that leave him especially breathless. The day that you foolishly challenged Rumi to an arm-wrestling match. The determined look in your eye as you clenched your fist, sweat dripping down your brow and arm muscles straining (you lost, of course – the rabbit hero was ridiculously jacked). The brilliant smile that graces your face whenever he brings you flowers or little souvenirs from his work trips. The very first morning after you moved into his penthouse, when he woke up next to your peaceful sleeping form, and realized that he’d have mornings like this for the rest of his life.

The day that he flew you up to the mountains for a starlit picnic. The smile on your face as you polished off your meal, and the way that your hand flew up to your mouth when he got down on one knee. Your teary-eyed look of pure love as he slipped the ring onto your finger, the diamond gleaming like one of the stars that shone down on you. The way that your eyes rolled back and your legs wrapped around his waist when he took you home and fucked you for hours.

And right now. Keigo swore that his heart damn near burst at the sight of you. The organist was playing, but he couldn’t hear the notes, couldn’t hear anything besides the blood rushing in his ears. Your hands clasped an elegant flower bouquet, and Keigo was sure that the blossoms were pretty, but he couldn’t spare even a second to glance at them. No, his entire focus was trained on you. You, with your beautiful dress that perfectly accentuated the body that he loved so much. When your eyes raised to meet his, and that perfect smile worked its way across your face… he had to bite his inner cheek to try and hold the tears back.

In a simultaneous eternity and heartbeat, you were handing off your bouquet to a bridesmaid and clasping Keigo’s large hands with your much smaller ones. The officiant was speaking, but Keigo didn’t process any of it. The sight of your eyes shining up at him, more beautiful than any of the stars in the night sky, was the only thing anchoring him to the world. He felt like he was floating through a dreamscape with only you, the happiness in his chest powerful and all-encompassing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You’re talking to a group of your old friends from high school when a tap against your shoulder grabs your attention, and you turn to see your fiancé – no, your husband – smirking down at you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Excuse me, ladies,” he says to your friends. “Mind if I steal her for a moment?” His amber eyes glint mischievously, and you swear that a whole swarm of butterflies take flight in your stomach.

Your friends giggle and nod, and then Keigo’s spinning you around so that you’re face-to-face. He’s stunning, in his black suit and red dress shirt, the shade of crimson matching his wings perfectly. “Dance with me, dove,” he says, before leaning down to press a quick kiss against your lips. You nod, and he leads you towards the center of the venue, where most of your guests are dancing to some cheesy pop song. Keigo nods at the DJ, who nods back and switches to the music. Soft synth notes travel through the speakers, before the singer’s dreamy voice floods your ears.

Your hands find their way to his broad shoulders. His wings move to wrap around you protectively. You’re not sure if he even realizes that he does it – it’s such a normal thing, now, for him to shield you, to create a little cocoon for the two of you. You frown as you feel his muscles moving underneath your fingers. “You’re too tense,” you say, fingers gently kneading at the parts of his back that you can reach. “Let me give you a massage once we get home.”

He chuckles, one of his own hands coming up to capture yours. He laces your fingers together before bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against your skin. The look he gives you is so tender, the love radiating off his body so palpable, that it makes your knees feel week. “Sweet, but I’m the one who’s going to be taking care of you tonight.” You open your mouth to protest, but he tuts, and a feather flies up to shush at your lips. “No, listen. You’re driving me crazy. Every time I turn my head, I see you looking so damn beautiful that my heart stops. Makes me wanna just pull you away and rip that pretty dress off.”

You gasp at his words, a pretty blush dusting your cheeks. “Kei! People are gonna hear you!”

He shrugs, pulling you even closer and swaying your bodies lightly to the music. “Let them,” he says nonchalantly, but the glint in his eye is pure sin. He leans down so that his lips brush against the shell of your ear. You can’t help the shudder that wracks through your body as his warm breath hits your skin. “You’re so cute when you’re blushing like that. Did I make you flustered, baby?” His fingers release yours, instead gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Answer me, love.”

You nod, feeling small. Only Keigo can affect you like this, can reduce you to a trembling mess with just a few words.

You love it.

He smirks at your confession, pressing a kiss against your cheek before leaning his forehead against yours. “What do you say we jump ship, babe?” Your confusion must show on your face, because he continues. “I think I might die if I have to wait much longer to get my hands on you. And judging by the way you’re acting… I’d bet good money that you’re already dripping for me.”

“Kei!” You swat at his chest before burying your face in it. He laughs, one of his real, genuine laughs that makes your heart soar, before kissing the crown of your head.

“I don’t see you denying it.”

“Shut up.”

“Aw, is my cute little wife flustered?”

Wife. The word sounds so pretty rolling off his lips that you can’t resist retreating from the safety of his chest to press your lips against his. He cups your face with one of his large, rough hands and kisses you back. His wings shift to cover you up before the hand on your waist moves down to pinch at your ass – or, at least, it tries. The layers of your dress obstruct him, and he growls in frustration.

You can’t help but whine as well. You want him all the time, of course. Years of being together haven’t changed how fucking badly you want him all the time. You’d used up all your willpower behaving for the ceremony and the reception so far. You’d been good, had kept your hands to yourself throughout dinner and the toasts. But now, the mix of his body against yours, the dirty words that he’d whispered into your ear, and the cocktails running through your bloodstream were making it very hard for you to ignore the pooling heat between your legs.

You wanted him. You wanted your husband.

“Please,” you whisper. Under normal circumstances, you’d hate how whiny and pathetic you sound, but you’re too far gone to care. “Please, let’s go, Kei. Need you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A few whispered words to Rumi, and a knowing smirk from her, and you were gone. It was surprisingly easy to slip out the venue. You’d expected to be stopped by some nosy family member, but it seemed that everyone was too tipsy and having too much fun to care. Nevertheless, you had to be careful once you stepped out into the fresh night air. The number two hero’s wedding was perfect paparazzi bait. You didn’t even want to think about the feeding frenzy that the media would go into if they caught sight of you now.

The night sky was like a shield, though, and it protected you from prying eyes. You’d been discreet when picking the wedding and reception venues, and even more discreet in choosing your honeymoon destination. Tomorrow morning, you and Keigo would fly up to the mountains, where he’d rented a little cabin for the two of you. By some miracle, he’d managed to get a whole week off work – a whole week where you’d have him, entirely to yourself.

But right now, you aren’t thinking about tomorrow morning, or the lovely, peaceful honeymoon that you were about to embark on. Right now, the only thing you can think about is Keigo. Keigo, with his beautifully messy hair that moved like ocean waves as you soared through the air. There’s nothing in this world that you love more than flying with him, pressed against his sturdy body with his strong arms wrapped around you. Light pollution makes it hard to see the sky from the ground, but up here, the moon and stars are breathtaking.

Almost as breathtaking as your husband, who’s eyes are prettier than any stars could ever hope to be.

He looks down and catches you staring, taking him in with your wide, wondrous eyes. You can barely hear anything through the noise-cancelling headphones that he makes you wear whenever you fly, but his words reach you, clear as day – “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Your voice comes out small, stolen away by the rushing wind. You try again, louder this time. “I love you!”

He chuckles, chest shaking as he tries to keep his laughs contained. “You trying to one-up me? I can be loud too.” He takes a deep breath, before tipping his head back and shouting an I love you up into the heavens.

His lips are soft and sweet as candy when they dip down to meet yours. “I’m just so happy,” he whispers against you. “You make me so happy.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The moment that you set foot into the penthouse, you gasp.

“Oh, Kei,” you breathe, hand flying over your mouth.

He bounces nervously as he locks up the balcony door, not meeting your eye. “Do…do you not like it?”

You march up to him and grab his face in your hands, before standing up onto your tip-toes and planting a kiss on his forehead. “I love it, baby. Really, you’ve outdone yourself.”

He perks up at the praise, kissing your lips once before his hands move down and he picks you up, clean off the ground. You can’t hold your shrieking laugh back as he spins you around, a smile lighting up his face like a god damn Christmas tree.

The house is beautiful. Really, he did outdo himself. Back when you’d first started dating, he’d had to call off your six-month-anniversary date because of a mission. You’d assured him that it was fine, that you understood, but you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t upset. He promised that he would be back in a week at the latest. You’d spent the night with your friends, eating ice cream and watching shitty movies, and left for work the next morning. You weren’t expecting him back for a few days at least, but when you opened your door after an exhausting day at work, he was there, waiting for you. Scratches on his face and bandages on his arms, but he was there. And he’d decorated your apartment with flowers and fairy lights, centered around a haphazardly made blanket fort in the center of the living room. Little candles were placed across the room, each with a red feather standing guard, making sure that the flames didn’t accidentally get knocked over and grow. After you’d gotten over your initial shock – how the hell did you get in here, Kei – you ran into his arms and squeezed him, tight. He didn’t let go of you for the entire night – his body always pressed against yours, fingers constantly entwined, even as he made you cum so many times that you forgot your own name.

It was one of your fondest memories, one that always brought a smile to your face. You’d mentioned it offhandedly last week, while you were in the weeds with wedding planning. Honestly, you didn’t think that he’d even heard what you said, with how stressed and busy the two of you were. He was picking up extra patrols to make up for his honeymoon vacation time, and you were working your ass off to get your overbearing boss off your back.

But he had heard. He heard, and he listened, because that’s just the kind of lover – the kind of husband – that Keigo is. Attentive, sweet, and intuitive. You swear, he spoils you beyond belief. You don’t even know when he got the time to decorate the apartment today, but it’s beautiful. Even more beautiful than the decorations from your six-month-anniversary, because this time, the sight is sweetened by the knowledge that this is your shared home. This isn’t just your apartment, that your friends helped sneak him into so he could fancy it up. This is your shared space, where you’ll spend the rest of your lives together. Where you’ll wake up in his arms every morning, his wings wrapped around you protectively, fragmenting the morning light into shards of red. Where you’ll make meals together and laugh at his bad cooking, where you’ll take sanctuary from the harshness of the world. This place is your home. Keigo is your home.

He finally stops spinning, but refuses to set you down. Instead, he readjusts you so that he’s carrying you bridal style. You almost laugh at how cliché it is. It feels like something out of a cheesy rom-com, but you’re so happy that you feel like you’re in one of those rom-coms.

You do laugh out loud when you see the trail of petals leading to your bedroom. Keigo feigns disappointment, dramatically sighing. “Don’t laugh, princess, you wound me.” That just makes you laugh even more, and soon, he’s joining in, burying his face in your hair as he walks the two of you towards the bed. “C’mon, I’m trying to be romantic! Quit making me laugh!”

“I can’t help it,” you giggle as he gently places you onto the bed. Thankfully, he had the common sense to not put any petals on the actual bed, but the floor is absolutely covered. Blossoms line the walls as well, along with candles that bathe the room in their gentle glow. You take a second to admire how beautiful your husband looks in the soft light. The shadows make his wings seem that much bigger as they unfurl to their full size. He looms over you, looking like the most delicious mix of devil and angel that you’ve ever seen. There’s still a playful smile on his face, but something mischievous simmers beneath it.

“Hope you didn’t forget what you said at the reception hall, baby,” he says, eyes glinting. “What was it? Hmm, something like, need you, Kei, need you to take me home and fuck me, I’m already so wet for you.”

You groan and try to bury your face in your hands, but he’s too fast. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, easily wrapping them with just one of his large hands. “You’re making shit up,” you pout. “I only said the first part.”

“So you admit you said it? That you need me?”

“Shut up.”

“Mm, no thanks.”

You groan again, trying to suppress your smile. There are plenty of times that you and Keigo have had “serious” sex, but you mostly find yourself like this, devolving into giggles and teasing. There’s something about him that makes you feel so safe and at ease, and you can’t help yourself from giggling at his stupid remarks. He laughs, and releases your wrists to cradle your face with both his hands. He shifts so that he’s properly on top of you, his thighs on either side of your hips, and bends down to press kisses all over your face.

“My wife,” he breathes, in between kisses. “My sweet, beautiful, amazing wife. This dress is so pretty, but let’s take it off, my love. You don’t need it anymore.”

It takes a few minutes of awkward wriggling and tugging to finally remove the lace monstrosity, but at long last, the dress ends up on the floor. Keigo’s hands are on your body in an instant, fingers trailing over the curve of your waist and snapping the waistband of your panties. “God, you’ve got such pretty little lingerie on.”

“Wanted to dress up for you,” you say, pawing at his tie and trying to loosen the knot. It makes you feel small, to be so exposed while he’s still fully dressed. Normally you love to savor in that feeling, but right now, you need to feel his bare skin against yours. “Now take your clothes off, please.”

You finally manage to loosen his tie enough to pull it over his head. After stopping for another deep kiss, your hands continue their path over his body. His suit jacket comes off next, although he has to help you gently maneuver it off his wings. His cuff links clatter to the ground as you almost viciously rip off his dress shirt, and you moan when you finally feel his warm muscles.

You’re practically grinding into each other by now. Little whines leave your lips as you shamelessly roll your hips, seeking any friction you can get. You can feel his hardness, even through his thick pants, and you chase it with vigor. He’s not much better, a light blush dusting his face as he meets your rolls with shallow thrusts of his own. “Off, off, Kei, need to feel you,” you babble, fingers desperately trying to undo this belt buckle. Breathlessly, he pushes your fingers aside and pulls his belt off, unceremoniously throwing it across the room. You half expect it to collide with a candle and set the entire building on fire, but a few feathers fly out to catch it and gently set it down.

You don’t waste a second in pulling his pants down and throwing them as well, trusting that a feather will keep it from crashing into anything. Your fingers try to pull down the waistband of his boxers, but he tuts and grabs your hand.

You look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please,” you whine.

The smile on his face is gentle beyond belief as he answers. “I told you that I was going to take care of you tonight, baby. Let me make you feel good, okay? Can I make you feel good?”

You want to protest, want to beg him to stuff your face or your cunt and fuck into you until you’re lightheaded, but Keigo’s insistent about making you cum at least twice before even thinking about his own pleasure. And you can’t deny that you’re aching for him. You’re certain that you’ve soaked through your flimsy panties by now, and your mind is hazy with want.

You nod. Keigo takes your face in his hand, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Can you give me your colors too?”

You force your mind to push through the fog, force your heavy lips to move and form words. “G-green for good, yellow for slow down, red for stop.”

“Good girl.” The praise goes straight to your core, and you whine. “Oh, baby, I know I just vowed to give you everything you could ever want, but you’re so damn needy. Be patient for me, okay? Let me touch you.”

You nod obediently, but you can’t fight the urge roll your hips and feel him again. With a soft, scolding noise, he presses one of his hands into your hipbone, effectively pinning you to the mattress. Try as you might, you can’t squirm away. He’s so ridiculously strong, his muscles toned from years of training and hero work, that you’re no match for him. But it’s not so bad. You love the dominance that oozes off his body as he moves down, his hands and tongue exploring every inch of skin that they can find. His teeth nip at the sensitive spot on your neck, the spot that always makes you melt for him. You shamelessly sigh and tilt your head to give him more access.

His right hand, the one that isn’t currently pinning you to the mattress, plays with the lacy edges of your bra. He palms you through the thin fabric, making you groan and arch your back into his touch. It’s not enough, you need more, need to feel more of him before you lose your mind. He seems to read your mind, because he doesn’t even bother to unclasp the bra, electing instead to rip it clean off your body. The snap of the straps breaking makes you gasp, but you revel in the sting of the elastic bouncing back against your skin.

“Couldn’t wait,” he says, not a hint of shame on his face. “You know how much I love to tease, but fuck, I need you now.”

He’s a bit more ceremonious when he removes your panties, choosing to use a hardened feather to slice through the fabric instead of just ripping with brute force. He fucking moans at the sight of you, wet and needy for him. It sounds like absolute heaven, but you don’t have even a second to revel in it before he’s diving into you. The sudden rush of pleasure is electrifying, and you go to instinctively slam your legs shut, but Keigo’s hand is too fast again. His tongue doesn’t falter for even a second as his fingers dig into your thighs and push you open. His lips wrap around your clit and suck, and he’s outrageously loud as he moans into your sex. It’s all so much – he’s licking at you like a man on death row, coaxing little whines and gasps from your lips.

His beautiful eyes are trained on yours, pupils blow out with love and lust. He memorizes every little expression that flits across your beautiful face as he eases a finger into you, eyes only leaving your face to admire the way that your little cunt sucks him in. But he can’t tear his gaze away from you, and the way your mouth falls open, or the way that your eyes flutter and roll back. The way that your hands ball up into fists, alternating between grabbing the bedsheets and lacing through his hair. Fuck, he loves how you pull at his hair when his fingers curl up against that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Loves the little curses and gasps of his name that spill past your lips as he scissors and thrusts his digits deeper and deeper into your perfect pussy.

“Cum for me, princess,” he groans. “Please, cum for me, need you to be a good girl and cum for me.”

And, well, you did just vow to give him everything that he could ever want.

You throw your head back and almost sob as you gush all over his face and fingers. He’s insatiable, licking and fingering you all through it, desperately trying to lap up every single drop of your juices. Your body is shaking, and you whimper, the overstimulation building until it’s too much, until you’re crying out too much, Kei, ‘s too much!

“Give me your color, baby,” he says, slowing his assault against your body.

“G-green,” you stutter out, the words as shaky as your legs. “Green, don’t stop, it’s just – ah! Kei!”

Your verbal confirmation was all he needed to dive back in, sucking at you with even more vigor than before. His fingers twist and curl against your spot, and his tongue lashes at your clit. He doesn’t stop for even a second, burying himself in your heat. It’s all you can do to maintain your grip on his hair, tugging at it just the way that he loves. You’re thrust headfirst into your second orgasm of the night, crying out his name and positively sobbing at the onslaught of sensations.

When he finally pulls away, the lower part of his face is soaked with your cum. He makes a show of licking his lips clean, not breaking eye contact with you, no matter how much you blush and squirm. He saves his fingers for you, though. A gentle tap at your lips is all it takes for you to obediently open your mouth and take in his digits. You swirl your tongue around, eyes lidded with the afterglow of your pleasure.

But you’re not finished, are nowhere near finished. You suppose that you are being needy, but how could you not, when your husband looks like an absolute fucking god? The candlelight makes your cum on his face glisten beautifully. You whine and pull him in for a kiss, mashing your lips against his and greedily swiping your tongues together. It’s sinful. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you shudder, makes you need him that much more.

“Please, please fuck me,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his slim waist and trying to pull him closer, closer, closer. “Please, Kei, need you inside me, need my husband inside me.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, so quietly that you would’ve missed it if you didn’t feel the word formed against your lips. “Fuck, baby, okay.” His hand slides between your bodies and quickly pushes his boxers down. He uses a feather to pull them all the way off, because he can’t be bothered to focus on that, not when you’re practically drooling at the sight of his cock.

Your fingers twitch, and you aren’t able to hold back any longer. Your hand finds his cock, marveling at how heavy and perfect he feels as you wrap your fingers around him and guide him towards your sopping cunt. You pause before you slide him in, though, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can I ride you? Please?”

He curses again under his breath, practically shivering at your words. His strong hands reposition the both of you, until you’re sitting on his thigh and he’s leaning back against the headboard. He cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Well, then? Get to work, princess.”

You roll your eyes, trying not to laugh at his antics. “What happened to Mr. Let-Me-Take-Care-Of-You?”

“He’ll come out later. If my pretty wife wants to ride me, she gets to ride me.”

You laugh for real this time, but it quickly turns into a moan as you sink yourself down on his length. No matter how many times you take him, he always overwhelms your senses, always stretches you so deliciously. You lean your forehead against his and give yourself a second to adjust, and then you’re rolling your hips, little whines leaving your lips.

“Feels so good, Kei.” You throw your head back, your fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back to anchor yourself. “You always feel so good.”

His eyes are half-lidded and dark as he takes you in. He’s memorizing every inch of your body, every detail and movement that he absolutely fucking adores. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the world,” he whispers, seemingly more to himself than you. “So beautiful. I’m so lucky.”

Your thighs burn, but you force yourself to ignore the pain. You’d rather die than stop right now. His strong arms encircle your waist, and his wings surround your bodies, ruffling with every one of your movements.

You want to ignore your exhaustion, but your husband is perceptive as ever. His hips raise up to meet you, and it sends a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. You’re shaky, though, and you’re getting sloppy.

Before you can even process what’s happening, you’re being spun over and pinned to the mattress. A gasp leaves your lips, and you whine as his cock slips out of you. Your hand reaches out and paws around wildly, searching for him through your haze. Keigo’s quick to kiss you and shush your protests, entwining his rough fingers in your searching hand and stroking his thumb against your palm.

“Relax, angel. Let me take care of it.”

He slides into you again, making you both moan. Your pussy sucks him in greedily, clenching and fluttering around him. He pauses once he bottoms out. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and he presses sweet kisses all over your skin.

You wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze, trying desperately to make him move. “Keigo, baby, please,” you whine, fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back.

He coos, cupping your face and kissing you before he readjusts himself. “Of course, pretty girl.”

His thrusts are deep and hard, so hard that they make the entire bed shake. Your eyes flutter shut, but he grips your jaw and begs you to keep them open – please, baby, look at me, need to see my pretty wife fall apart.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he moans, teeth nipping at your lips. “So perfect, and all mine.”

“All yours,” you agree. You’re practically babbling by this point, unable to stop the noises slipping past your lips. You’re floating on a cloud, soaring through the sky, anchored only by his body against yours. “You’re so deep in me, Kei, can feel you so deep in me. Please, ‘m so close, just a lil’ bit more, Kei.”

He coos again, hand slipping down to toy with your clit. You wail, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as the coil in your stomach snaps and you gush uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but cry out for him, can’t do anything but cling onto him and shake and twitch. The feeling of you clenching around him is too much, and with a broken fuck and a cry of your name, he spills inside of you. He fucks you through it, the obscene sounds of your combined release making you feel lightheaded and weak.

He holds you for a few minutes, just like that, bodies entwined. You both pant and try to catch your breath. The weight of his body on top of yours is comforting, so you protest when he finally pulls out and sits back to admire the way that his seed drips out of you.

“Come back,” you complain. “What kind of husband doesn’t give cuddles to his wife?”

“The kind of husband who needs to clean her up,” he says with a chuckle. “C’mon, let’s go take a bath.

Your body feels boneless with exhaustion and the hazy afterglow of your three orgasms, so you’re grateful when he scoops you into his arms. You tuck your face into his neck and hum contentedly, unable to stop the giddy smile that blooms across your face.

“I love you, Kei,” you say, planting little kisses over his neck and jaw.

“I love you too, princess,” he says, grinning and poking your nose. He laughs when you scrunch it up and scowl at him. But, with how cute he looks, you just can’t hold the scowl for long. Soon, you’re giggling too.

You look up at him with so much love that it makes his heart ache. His eyes grow a bit more serious, and he dips his head to kiss at your swollen lips. “I mean it, baby. I’m so happy to spend the rest of my life with you.”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Happiness, I’m sorry you’ve been on hold.

Request: Could you do a one shot of Fred Weasley after the war, where he doesn’t die and actually falls in love with a muggle. And he tells her about wizards and meets his family? Thank you!

A/N: So this is now the longest thing I have ever written. My aim for this was to make it equal parts angst and equal parts fluff because I think Fred deserves all the fluff. Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope I have done it justice! Please read the warnings before reading this fic should anything trigger - you come first, not fic reading. Also, if anyone can name the TV shows I mention in this, you get a gold star! Title from Volbeat - For Evigt. I hope you all enjoy, I know it’s long!!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of war, depression, insomnia, PTSD, swearing, food, but THERE IS SO MUCH FLUFF - SO MUCH (as well as a bit of steaminess).

Word count: 13.3k

The voices have blurred into a senseless mess; Fred can only just make out the deep timbre of adult males and the high pitched shouts of students. He doesn’t need to hear the words to know that spells are being thrown left, right, and centre.

He does his fair share of fighting; hurling jinx after jinx at any Death Eater he comes upon.

The corridor he runs down is moaning and groaning as if ready to collapse, but Fred continues, his breath coming in pants. His eyes run over the bodies of students and teachers; his heart beginning the painful mourning process then and there.

Someone shouts; he doesn’t know who.

Something creaks; he doesn’t know what.

A brilliant flash of light bounces in front of his eyes, and he feels himself blown away just as the wall beside him starts to collapse.

Whether from shock or from injury, his vision fades to black.

Fred wakes with a start; heart racing, mouth gaping wide in a silent scream, hands gripping the bedsheets in a vice-tight hold.

With his eyes closed, he takes a deep breath before he begins to go through his exercise. An exercise he repeats nightly.

Aloud he says their names like a mantra: “Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Ron, Ginny.”

He does this over and over again until his heart rate calms, and his hands can release the bedsheets.

Fred checks the clock; 3am. He nods, sighing. Three hours sleep.

Fred supposes he should be thankful. After all, it’s three hours more than he got the night before.

He leaves his bed, dragging his feet to the kitchen where with a flick of his wand, the kettle begins to boil, and teabag drops itself into his favourite mug – his only mug.

The Second Wizard War had been over for almost a year now, and for the most part, life had returned to normal. Routines were picked back up and time had simply started to move on.

But Fred felt stuck.

He couldn’t shake the nightmares; keeping the house up with his screams. He couldn’t face opening the shop up despite George’s best attempts at pleading.

He didn’t have it in him to laugh.

He felt broken; as if something vital within him snapped in two the day he avoided the winged clutches of death.

Settling on the couch with his now steeping mug of tea, Fred resigns himself to the fact that he won’t be getting anymore sleep tonight.

The TV plays lowly in the background, a rerun of an old British sitcom set in a prison playing. Fred pays it little to no attention; instead, looking around the small flat he’s called home for the last eight months of his life. The walls are sparsely decorated; a few photos hung up but nothing that screams his personality. His cupboards remain filled just enough for one person, as does his fridge. It’s a flat fit for a hermit; Fred thinks that’s what he’s become.

He decided to leave home two months after the end of the war. When he started to notice the dark circles underneath his mother’s eyes and realised that he was the cause of them – his nightmares and his screams.

Molly cried when he left; worried sick over how he would look after himself and cope. Fred reassured her and made a promise to send letters twice a week – a promise he has yet to break.

George was understandably angry with his twin’s decision, but he knew that deep down that Fred needed to go to heal so he can laugh in the shop once again.

With a tight hug from his parents and siblings alike, Fred began his new life in muggle society.

A frantic knock at his door has Fred spilling his tea and falling out of his reminiscing. Jumping up from the couch, his hand grabs his wand, ready to defend himself should he need to.

His breath comes in quick pants as a result of the adrenaline and panic coursing through his system. The only people who know where he lives are his family with the added bonus of Harry, Hermione and Lee Jordan; no-one else had his address.

The frantic knocking continues; becoming quicker if it was at all possible. Fred swallows past the lump in his throat as he unlocks his door, wrenching it open in a swift movement, ready to confront whatever was on the other side.

Fred wasn’t prepared for it to be you.

You stand in front of his flat with a wild look on your face; equal parts terror and panic. Your hand is still raised in a fist, ready to rain down on the faded red of his door. You only just stop yourself from pounding your fist into his chest.

“Can I help you?” Fred greets.

“I’m so sorry, I know how late it is, but I need your help.”

Fred raises an eyebrow, “What with?”

You toe his welcome mat sheepishly, pointing towards your flat next door to his. “There’s a massive spider in my bathroom and I’m too scared to kill it myself.”

“You’re knocking down my door at this time in the morning for a spider?” Fred asks incredulously.

You glare at him, “This isn’t just any spider, okay? It’s massive; I can practically see its kneecaps!” You huff, placing your hands on your hips, “Will you please help me?”

Fred leans against the doorframe, a smirk gracing his lips, “What’s in it for me?”

You purse your lips; eyes glancing between the red-headed man vexing you and the door to your flat where you know the spider is waiting to make a mockery of you. You sigh, deciding the former is the lesser evil than the latter, “I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“You’ll buy me breakfast for killing a spider?”

You nod rapidly, “Yes, I’ll buy you breakfast, and I’ll even fork out extra for hash browns, just please kill the spider.”

Fred pauses; pretending to think it over in order to annoy you that little bit more. It had been a while since he had taken the time to vex someone; he had to admit he was rather enjoying getting on your nerves.

“Well?” You press, tapping your foot on his welcome mat, “Will you help me or not?”

Fred pushes himself off the doorframe, keeping his wand concealed in his shirt sleeve. He bows at the waist with a cocky smile on his lips, “Lead the way, my lady.”

You roll your eyes at the man; not remembering a time when a man had gotten on your nerves to this extent. You lead him into your flat; his eyes wandering over the heavily decorated walls and the over-filled bookshelves. You pause outside the door to your bathroom, biting your lip as you face the red-haired man, “I last saw it in the sink. It could have moved now.”

Fred nods, “Don’t worry, I’ll find it. Do you have a boot or something I could use?”

You turn away from him, heading back to the entryway where he saw piles upon piles of shoes. “I don’t have a boot,” you start, “but I do have a pair of trainers.”

“They’ll work,” Fred reassures, taking them from your hands.

You throw him a thumbs-up before retreating a few paces into your living room. You haul yourself onto the couch, much to Fred’s amusement, as if the spider is going to come running out of the bathroom to exact its revenge on you for throwing your pot of face cream at it before you sprinted out of your flat.

“Good luck,” You state as Fred opens the door to your bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Fred runs his eyes around your bathroom, looking for the eight-legged arachnid that’s caused this much trouble at this time in the morning. He finds it in no time; still stuck in your sink, unable to make its way up the smooth porcelain sides.

It doesn’t take Fred long to dispose of the spider; trapping it with a spell and flinging it out of the window. For extra measure, and to not alert you to his magic, he slams the trainer down on the tiled floor of your bathroom. Fred even goes so far as to scrunch up some tissue in his hand to make it look as if he had gotten the spider.

If he can avoid it, Fred won’t kill another living creature. In the short span of his life, Fred had seen too much death, and he knows he doesn’t want to be witness to anymore.

Upon opening the door, Fred finds you stood in the exact same place but with a rolled up magazine in your hand. He wants to laugh at the sight, but he can’t dredge up the will to do so. Instead, he holds up the scrunched up tissue and your trainer, declaring, “It’s gone. I got rid of it.”

You jump down from the couch, pottering over to him. The rolled up magazine still in your hand, “It’s in there?”

Fred nods, a little white lie won’t hurt you and he doubts the spider would return. “Do you have somewhere I can put this?” he asks, waving the tissue around.

“Of course, the kitchen is over here.” You lead him to the small kitchenette where he disposes of the empty tissue. You take your trainer off him and Fred claps his hands together as if he’s completed a job well done.

“Right,” He starts, “If you don’t need me for anything else…”

Your eyes widen as if suddenly aware what time it is and how long you’ve kept him, “Of course!” you cry, “I didn’t realise the time, you’ll want to be getting back to sleep. Thank you for all your help…” you trail off, realising you don’t know his name.

“Fred. My name is Fred.”

“Fred,” You smile, “I’m (Y/N).”

“I’m glad I could help, (Y/N),” Fred says, making his way to your door, “I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.”

You frown, “Breakfast?”

“You owe me? For killing the spider, remember?”

You hold your hand to your forehead, “Yes! I remember. How does meeting at half past nine sound? I want to get some sleep before I meet you again.”

“Half nine it is. I’ll see you then.” Fred says as goodbye, shutting your front door behind him and making his way back to the couch that had been calling his name since he left it.

The TV has moved on now; showing another rerun of an old sitcom – this one about two brothers hustling their way through life in a borough of London. Fred rather likes this show, having gotten hooked his first month in muggle life. He turns the volume up, taking a sip of his now cold tea.

Fred tries to pay attention to scene currently playing; the brother’s elderly uncle unscrewing the fastenings to a very expensive chandelier they’ve been hired to clean. Little do they know they’ve got their wires crossed and disaster is about to strike.

Fred pays little attention to this, but rather than return to the wallowing he found himself in earlier, he lets himself think of breakfast tomorrow.

His eyes begin to flutter shut; the lack of sleep finally catching up to him. He slumps down onto the couch, reaching for the blanket he keeps draped across the back of it for this very reason, and he throws it across himself. He takes one last look at the television to see that the brothers had been underneath the wrong chandelier their elderly uncle was loosening, and he falls asleep with the thought of breakfast running through his mind.

------------------

Fred is ready too early; he knows he is.

He also thinks he’s overdressed but he doesn’t let himself think too much into that issue.

Another nightmare had awoken him an hour after he fell back asleep in front of the TV. Fred wasn’t too resigned though; four hours sleep in one night was the most he had gotten in a while. He was going to count this as a win.

For a while, he remained on the couch, flicking through the channels hoping to find something other than telly shopping. He skipped over the news channels, not needing to hear anything about muggle society that could potentially send him further into his spiral. He ran a hand over his face as he turned off the TV; he had moved away from home to start getting better; to start the healing process yet he felt as if he was only making things worse.

Before he could let himself dwell further on that subject, he hauled himself into the shower. Taking extra time to scrub at his hair and body; making himself look presentable for breakfast with you.

Fred took extra care in picking out his clothes. Once dressed, he did feel overdressed for the occasion, but as he sits on the couch, watching the hands on his analogue clock tick by slowly, he’s more bothered by the fact that he’s ready over an hour early.

He sighs as he watches the second hand make another circuit around the clock; one less minute to go, he thinks wryly to himself.

If his mother could see him now, Molly Weasley would proceed to smack him with a tea-towel before offering her advice on the matter. Thoughts of his mother has Fred overwhelmed with a strong sense of missing her. He misses his mother more than he misses anyone; how she would always have food on the table and tea ready to drink, how she would push back his hair from his forehead so she could kiss him there. She would do that a lot when the nightmares were very bad; she would sit with him on the couch where he had exiled himself after waking George up too many times – she would run her hands through his hair in a comforting manner, kissing his forehead as his eyes would start to droop. Molly would only let herself rest once her beloved son was sleeping somewhat peacefully.

Fred thinks of this memory as he digs around his flat for some spare parchment and a self-inking quill. He had already sent his two letters for the week, but Molly would be delighted to receive a third unexpectedly.

Quill scratches on parchment for some time. Fred inquires after the wellness of his siblings – did Charlie pull his finger out and ask out Evie? How was Ron and Hermione? How was Dad? Would he like any more of the muggle sweets he’s become so fond of?

Fred asks the inane questions before asking about George. Fred knows that George loves him; they’re twins, they’re closer than any other sibling would hope to be. George knew Fred’s moods like the back of his hand and he only wants the best for his brother. Which is why Fred struggles with the guilt at leaving George to cope with the joke shop alone. George has reassured him that it’s okay, that he needs to take time and the shop will always be here when he’s ready to come back.

But it still doesn’t lessen the guilt that sits in his stomach like a lead balloon.

Black ink covers his hand by the he’s finished his letter; finishing his letter with the news of breakfast with someone he could see being a good friend. That would be enough to quash his mother’s worries that he doesn’t leave his flat enough. He seals the envelope with wax, making a mental note to go to a wizarding post office after breakfast so he can send it off in express time to his mother.

Cracking his knuckles – a nasty habit he picked up at Hogwarts – Fred checks the time to see that it’s almost half past nine. He slips on his denim jacket, tucking his letter into an inside pocket, patting it to reassure himself it’s there.

As he’s locking up the door, he sees you exiting your flat. Fred realises that when you aren’t dressed in mismatched pyjamas with a terrified look on your face, you’re rather beautiful.

You hurry over to him; your bag bouncing against your hip as you come to a stop in front of him. “Good Morning,” you greet.

“Good Morning. How did you sleep? Any more spiders?”

You direct your gaze to the floor, feeling somewhat sheepish in the light of day, “I know I said it last night, but thank you again. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if you hadn’t have got it.”

Fred smiles softly, “I didn’t mind. Besides, I get breakfast out of it.”

You perk up, “That you do! Off we go then.”

You lead him out of the building, continuing on the main road before turning left and then a right. Fred follows you all the way; making small attempts at idle conversation which you gladly take up, chatting to him about anything and everything as you lead him down a side street to where a small café sits.

The bell above the door chimes happily as you enter the building, holding the door open for Fred to duck in first.

You lead him to a table by the window that’s big enough for two. He pulls out your chair for you, letting you sit first before shrugging off his jacket and hanging it over the back of his chair. Fred may have been a little shit through his childhood and adolescence, but he had listened to his mother when she explained the etiquette for dining with a lady whether it be breakfast, lunch or dinner.

Menus are handed to the both of you by a waitress who looks to be wanting to be anywhere but here right now. Fred sympathises with her a little; remembering the early starts for the shop. They order their food in no time; you ordering a latte and Fred ordering a Yorkshire Tea to go with your Full English’s with extra hash browns.

You grin at him from across the table, “Thanks for agreeing to this.”

“Thanks for offering.”

“Did you get back to sleep okay after I woke you up?” You asks, face lined with worry.

Fred nods, clearing his throat, “I nodded back off, yeah.”

You sigh with relief, “That’s good, I’m glad.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

“I slept very well in my spider-free flat, yes.”

You fall silent as your drinks are placed in front of you with a promise that your food would be with you shortly. Fred smiles at the waitress in thanks as she leaves.

He turns his attention back to you, “How long have you lived in the building? I’m sure I would have seen you before.”

You wave a hand nonchalantly, “Not very long, I moved in a couple of months ago. How long have you lived there?”

Fred sips at his tea, adding a dash of sugar and milk before answering, “Around eight months now.”

You nod at his answer, taking a drink of your latte. The caffeine was needed; the adrenaline from the spider incident had taken a while to leave your body, leaving you tossing and turning in your bed and providing you more opportunity to think about the red-headed neighbour you had just met.

“I’m going to propose an idea.”

“Oh?”

“I say we play twenty-one questions and get to know each other.”

“Get to know each other?”

You blink at him, “Yes. We’re neighbours and we’re having breakfast. What else should we talk about? The weather?”

Fred glances out the window at your words, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Well the weather is particularly lovely for London.”

You hush him, “That’s not very neighbourly of you.”

“Perhaps I’m not very neighbourly,” Fred taunts.

You gasp dramatically, “I refuse to believe that. If you weren’t neighbourly, you would have shut the door in my face last night.”

Fred raises an eyebrow, “Would you have started to knock again if I did?”

You purse your lips, repressing a smile, “Maybe.”

“Then I simply helped to lessen the noise.”

You scoff, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“You don’t have to.”

You glare at him, “Fred, stop being an arsehole and let me get to know you.”

Fred barks out a laugh, covering his mouth at the volume of the noise, “Well, when you put it like that. What do you want to know?”

You beam at him, and Fred can’t help but smile back. “How old are you?” you ask.

“I’m 22.”

“Are you at university?”

Fred shakes his head, “I thought I was supposed to ask the next question.”

You level him with a look, “Answer this one and then you can ask the next one.”

“Alright, but you can’t go jumping in with another question before I’ve asked mine. No, I’m not at university,” You open your mouth to interrupt but close it when you remember Fred’s words. He smiles at you, “How old are you?”

“You can’t repeat questions!”

“Why not?” Fred asks, affronted, “It’s only fair I know your age too!”

“Fine,” you mutter, “I’m 22 as well. 23 in a month.”

Fred nods, waiting patiently for your next question. You open your mouth, the words ready on the tip of your tongue but the waitress returns with your breakfast. The very smell of it has Fred’s stomach rumbling; he hadn’t a cooked breakfast like this since he left the Burrow. He digs in with renewed vigour; repressing a moan at the taste of the fried bread.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

Fred nods, unable to reply due to the mouthful of food he’s chewing.

You nod in understanding, swallowing your mouthful before saying, “I found this place in my final year of university; I needed somewhere that reminded me of my mum’s breakfasts. Her breakfasts will always be number one, but this comes pretty close.”

Fred pauses with a forkful of scrambled egg halfway to his mouth, “That’s what I miss most about home – my mum and her cooking.”

“Are you not from London originally?” You asks around a mouthful of bacon.

Fred shakes his head, “Devon originally. A tiny village in the county; it’s more of a hamlet really.”

Your eyes widen; eyebrows flying into your hairline, “Devon? That’s a while away. How often do you get to see your family?”

“Not as often as I’d like.” Fred says, drinking his tea.

For a moment, it’s silent between the two of you. The scraping of cutlery on plates being the only sound. Fred thinks of his family as he eats his breakfast; wondering what their plans are for the day – whether they’d be gnome hunting or playing quidditch or simply helping Molly with her vegetable garden. His heart hurts as he thinks of them; overcome with the absence of them from his life. It makes him shiver as he reaches for another drink of tea.

Fred breaks the comfortable silence, “What about you? Where are you from originally?”

“Lancashire originally but I moved to the south when I was young – it’s why my accent is so odd.”

Fred frown; he hadn’t noticed anything odd about your accent, thinking the way that you pronounced your vowels was similar to the way young Neville Longbottom does his, but yours are cut shorter.

“Tell me,” He starts, “Do you see your family as often as you’d like?”

“You’re going to repeat my every question, aren’t you?”

Fred grins, “Maybe… Maybe not. You’ll have to stick around to find out. Now, do you see your family as often as you’d like?”

You shake your head, “Not really. My parents like to travel a lot; a cruise here, a two week holiday there, a road trip across America through the summer. I don’t blame them though; they worked hard for the time they have now. I just wish they’d drop in more.”

“Are you rich?” Fred asks before he can stop himself. He cringes as the words leave his mouth.

You chuckle at the awkward expression on his face, “I’m not. My parents are. I’m a humble student working towards their master’s degree. My father created his company in printing greeting cards; he sold it off a few years back for a lot of money and they’ve been enjoying themselves since.”

“You’re a master’s student?” Fred asks; his knowledge on muggle degrees somewhat limited to what Hermione had told him.

You nod, scraping up the last forkful of food on your plate. “Yeah, I’m getting my master’s in Library Science.”

“What do you hope to do after that?”

“Work in a library or well, continue to work in a library, I already work at my university one. I’d love to work in an archives one day though, cataloguing pieces of history.”

Fred nods, enraptured by your words. He didn’t realise how much choice there was for muggles and their education. The wizarding world was somewhat limited to how witches and wizards could harness their talents; Fred and George were practically pariahs for choosing to dedicate their lives to pranks and happiness. He had always assumed the muggle world worked in the same way, but here you were, proving him wrong.

Knives and forks are crossed on plates when you ask, “You aren’t a university student, so you must have a job. What do you do for a living, Fred?”

Fred decides a kernel of truth wouldn’t do too much harm, “I own a joke shop with my twin brother.”

You laugh, clapping your hands together, “That’s incredible! Is the shop here in London?”

Fred nods, “It is. My twin brother is running it for the time being.”

“Can we go see it?”

Fred freezes; he hadn’t anticipated this. He glances down at the watch wrapped around his wrist then back up at you, not missing the glint of mischief in your eyes. “Perhaps another time?” he suggest, “I have some errands I need to run today that I can’t avoid.”

You lean back in your chair, feeling somewhat sad but you shake it off. “Of course, but I’ll hold you to that Fred. I won’t rest until I see your shop.”

Fred grins, “I have a feeling you’ll stick to your word.”

You move to reply but are interrupted by the waitress coming by to collect your plates and ask if you want anything else. She leaves the bill behind when her question is declined. Fred reaches for his wallet, but you stop him by snatching the bill.

“I made you a promise last night. Breakfast for your excellent services.”

Fred rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “I feel bad letting you pay.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” You tease, “No, I said I would buy you breakfast so I’m buying you breakfast. You can buy it next time.”

“So there’s going to be a next time?”

You shrug, biting your lip. “Sure – you might need my services for something. A blocked pipe or a blow fuse.”

Fred stands, pulling on his denim jacket, patting his inside pocket to find that his letter is still there.

You walk back to the main road together; waving goodbye to him as you head towards your university and he to a side street where he can apparate to the nearest wizarding post office. Fred hands his letter over to the clerk, paying a few extra knuts for express delivery.

Fred takes his time walking back to his flat; enjoying the spring day that was blooming around him. He felt lighter as he walked; as if he didn’t need to put as much effort into putting one foot in front of the other. He put it down to you and your presence; there was something about you that evoked all sorts of emotions from him. There was something about you that made him want to see you again.

However, he knew by tonight, the familiar fog will have settled over him – dulling the light of everything around him. He knew that he would still struggle to sleep; being lucky enough to get even an hour in before being pulled to consciousness kicking and screaming his way out of the same nightmare.

-----------------

His time over the next month is split three ways. He spends a third of it on his couch; watching old reruns of sitcoms – his new favourite being set in second muggle war and follows the Home Guard; Fred finds himself whistling the theme song more often than he’d like to admit. He uses his time on the couch to write his letters to Molly who was thrilled at the aspect of Fred making a friend; she wrote question after question about wanting to know their star sign to their hair colour. Fred smiles fondly; a smile reserved only for his mother – one that got even bigger when a second owl arrived with a small note with another question. Through all of her excited questioning, Molly forgot one crucial detail – what was their name?

He spends the second third of his time running. Fred had always been sporty; had always had an athletic build that helped him gain his spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a Beater with George on the team too. However, there are few places in muggle London where he can play the sport freely, so he gets it into his head to pretend to train for a match. Fred begins to run; every morning and every evening. Two runs a day, seven days a week. The runs on an evening tire out his body so he has more of a chance of falling into bed with the hopeless prayer of a dreamless sleep uttered from his lips. However, the runs on a morning are more frantic as he runs off the excess adrenaline and panic running through his system as a result of the night terror his mind unleashed upon him, dragging him from sleep less than two hours after his eyes closed.

Then Fred spends the final third of his time with you. In your flat or walking around Hyde Park or visiting your university.

Fred finds himself spending more and more time with you; he starts to crave your company. And he feels ridiculous for feeling that way because he’s only known you for over a month and he should be using this time to start the healing process.

But he’s already told his mother about you; and who isn’t to say that he can’t work on healing from the trauma of the war with you by his side being a warm, comforting presence?

Fred sits on his couch at nearing two in the morning; questioning his entire existence and reasoning for moving to muggle society when he realises that whilst it’s only been just over a month, if he wants to start healing with you by his side, he needs to be entirely honest with you.

He needs to confess.

----------------

Fred inhales a deep breath before knocking on your door. He shuffles from side to side, nerves rioting in his stomach. In less than a minute, you’ve wrenched open your door, smiling widely as you take in Fred standing before you.

“Freddie! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He holds his hands behind his back as he rocks back onto his heels, “Do you want to go on a walk?”

Your eyes run over his face; taking in the dark circles underneath his eyes. He had told you about his insomnia soon after the friendship began; it worried you, but Fred had reassured you that he had it controlled. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Fred nods, “That, and I really need to talk to you.”

“No problem. Let me just get my shoes on.”

Fred smiles as he watches you toe on the slip on trainers he had come to know as Vans. You told him just last week about your obsession with them; unable to resist buying a new pair each time you passed the shop.

You grab your jacket from the hook, pulling it on as you lock the door behind you, bumping into Fred as you step out into the hallway.

Fred leads you out of the building, turning the usual left that heads in the direction of the park. You struggle to keep up with his long strides; calling out for him to slow down a little so you can at least walk side by side. He smiles at you as you catch up to him; apologising for his speed, he is just anxious.

The walk to the park is walked in silence. Fred’s mind occupied with how he’s going to tell you the most important thing about himself and how you’re going to react when you find out that a lot of your friendship was built on a lie.

The park settles on the horizon too soon and his heart is in his mouth. Fred used to be a confident guy; happily getting involved in scheme after scheme that would bring chaos and laughter to the corridors of Hogwarts, but he had lost that part of him in the battle. He wondered if he would ever be that guy again.

You bump his shoulder, “We’re at the park, what did you want to talk about?”

Fred settles on a nearby bench; fiddling with his fingers, “I need to tell you something  but I’m not sure how to say it.”

“That’s fine. Why don’t you tell me why we’re in the park?”

Fred sighs, “It’s so you have the freedom and the choice to leave after I tell you what I’ve been keeping from you.”

Your heart starts to pound in your chest; panic rising slowly in your gut. “What have you been keeping from me that’s so bad that I would need to walk away from you?”

Fred turns in his spot, staring into your eyes, “Do you promise to hear me out and not interrupt?”

“Fred, you’re worrying me. What’s the matter?”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise! Now what’s wrong?”

“I’ve been lying to you… about so much.”

The air is knocked out of you, “I’m going to need more than that, Fred,” you whisper breathlessly.

“Do you remember when we first had breakfast? And I told you about the joke shop I own with my twin?”

“Yes… so what did you lie about? The joke shop or the twin?”

“Neither. I just lied about why you couldn’t see it.”

“Why?” You ask; your tone incredulous.

“Because I’m a wizard, and the joke shop I own with my twin – who is also a wizard – is a magical joke shops selling pranks and potions to witches and wizards attending Hogwarts.”

You stand from the bench, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself, wondering when the TV cameras are going to show up, “That isn’t funny, Fred.”

“I’m not joking, (Y/N). I’m not lying to you now.”

“How do I know? What’s Hogwarts? Who is your twin? What’s the name of your shop? Why aren’t you there?”

Fred had prepared himself for the barrage of questions he knew would inevitably fall from your mouth; curiosity being your besetting sin. He hadn’t prepared himself for the look of betrayal and hurt that crosses over face as you continue to stare at him. Fred feels his already broken heart break some more at the sight of it.

He runs a hand over his face, “(Y/N), love, please sit down. I’ll tell you everything.”

“Everything?” You question, “I want to know it all.”

Fred crosses over his heart, “I promise. Now please sit down.”

You sit next to him; a few inches away as if the small distance will help to protect the heart that you had already started to give to the broken red-headed man.

You remain silent as Fred sorts out his words; you can see the cogs in his mind working as he figures out how to explain an entire society that you hadn’t known existed until less than a minute ago.

Finally he releases a breath and begins.

“Witches and wizards have always been around, but after famous witch hunts such as Salem, Pendle, and Samlesbury, we had to go into hiding to protect our numbers. From the age of eleven, we go to Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a school in the highlands of Scotland dedicated to teaching young witches and wizards the art of magic as well as how to control it. My twin is called George; we’re identical and sometimes, our own mother struggles to tell us apart,” Fred breaks off with a short laugh, thinking of Molly with fondness.

“He’s my rock, he’s my best friend. We bought the joke shop when we were eighteen – it’s called Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and it’s found in Diagon Alley. For your sake, it’s found near Charing Cross Road.”

Fred pauses once again, readying himself to explain his absence from the shop and his presence in your life. “I’m not there because I moved away. In our society, there was a dark wizard who started a war for purposes beyond me. I just know that when I was 21 I was running through the corridors of the school I used to attend fighting for my life and watching people I knew die. I almost died myself when a wall was blown apart; luckily, someone spelled me out of the way. I’ll be forever grateful to them for that.

“After the war, I couldn’t cope. I was doing more harm than good by being with my family – my insomnia stems from nightmares of the war so I left. I left them and moved here where I’ve started to heal from my experiences and where I met you after you started to bang on my door. I wanted to tell you sooner; my mother told me to in her letters, but I was enjoying my time with you, and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. It means a lot to me.”

Fred falls silent with a smile aimed at you. Your mouth hangs open from his words; unsure on whether to take them for the truth they sounded like or to question him to find the holes in his story.

But he looks so vulnerable; the smile is watery, and his eyes are lined with tears. You realise that it’s taken a lot for him to confess this to you, but that it had been weighing on his mind for some time.

You don’t say anything immediately. Instead, you draw his head to your shoulder, and he lets out the sob he’s been holding in since he started to talk about his past. You wrap your arms around him tightly; holding him together as he lets himself fall to pieces in your arms. You’re in public, and this is a scene but the both of you don’t care. You hold him to you until his sobs begin to quieten into sniffles.

“I’m sorry,” Fred murmurs, pulling away from you as he wipes his eyes.

“Never apologise for crying.”

He sniffles, “Do you believe me?”

You nod, “I do. I don’t think anyone could have made up what you just said. I don’t think there’s enough imagination in the world for it. But there’s one thing I want to know.”

Fred watches you warily, “What is it?”

You grip his hand tightly, “Are you healing, Fred? Are you coping?”

Fred’s shoulders slump as the tension leaves his body; he had tensed at your words, worried at what you might say. He stares into your eyes as he answers, “I am. I was struggling at first, but I think I’m starting to heal.”

“Can I help? How can I help?”

Fred pats your hand, “Continue doing what you’re doing, it’s enough.”

And it is. Fred finds it easier to breathe in your presence as if the weight of the world is no longer on his shoulders like he were Atlas. Instead, he finds it easier to focus on other things such as plans for the day or listening to you talk about your latest assignment. He doesn’t feel his mind drift off as much when he’s around you; which is a good thing, he thinks.

You smile at him, still holding onto his hand, “I can do that.”

You both fall into quiet; eyes now focused on the expanse of the park. Fred watches a young mother push her young son the swings, hearing his delighted laughter, whilst your eyes land on the teenage couple making out underneath a tree; you move your eyes away quickly, focusing instead, on the ducks swimming in the pond.

You break the silence, “Fred?”

He hums in answer.

“Would you cast a spell for me?” You ask tentatively, “If that’s okay!”

Fred smiles softly; letting go of your hand to reach for the dogwood wand he keeps hidden up his sleeve. With flare he hasn’t shown since opening the store, he pulls the wand out. He rolls the wand over his fingers, “Wizards can practice magic outside of school from the age of seventeen; I can show you a spell.”

“Really?” You ask, bouncing in your place.

“Are you ready?”

“Hold on, let me think for a minute… YES.” You shout, stamping your feet in the grass.

Fred grins; his eyes crinkling in the corners from the size of his smile. He checks for witnesses before holding his wand up whispering the incantation ‘Lumos’. The tip of his wand begins to glow with a pale light which in the falling darkness of the day only helps him see the beauty in your features.

You gasp at the sight of the light emanating from Fred’s wand, resisting the urge to reach out and touch it. “I can’t believe it,” you sigh, “All this time I asked you to change lightbulbs and you could create light with a single word.”

“You’re not scared or freaked out?” He asks, unable to stop himself. The small voice in the back of his head needed to know whether you were going to leave him.

You shake your head, still watching the pale white light. With a single whisper of ‘Nox’, Fred turns out the light and slides his wand back into his sleeve. You turn your attention back to Fred, “I’m not scared or freaked out. I’m just in awe of you and this entire society that’s survived in secret. I feel like I’m privy to a secret organisation.”

“You’re in awe of me?” Fred asks; those being the only words he focused on in your entire sentence after confirming you weren’t scared of him.

“Absolutely. You can conjure magic, Fred! Actual magic! It’s incredible,” Your hands frame his face, keeping his eyes on you as you lean close and whisper, “You are incredible.”

He covers your hands with his; wondering when he’d become so soft. “Thank you,” he replies.

You pull away too soon; Fred’s hands dropping to his side, feeling suddenly cold at the loss of contact.

Standing from the bench, you hold your hand out for Fred to take. “Come on, magic man. It’s time we went home.”

“Magic man?” He asks, amused. He takes your offered hand, pulling himself up from the park bench.

“It’s my new nickname for you, do you like?”

“Magic man… magic man,” Fred repeats, testing the name out on his tongue, “I suppose I do.”

“Good, because I don’t think I’ll call you anything else.”

The walk back to the flat is quicker than the walk to the park. Fred’s steps lighter now than they were earlier. Chased by the turning on of street lights, you reach your building and lead him into your flat, offering him a warm drink as he takes a seat on your cream coloured couch.

Fred takes the hot mug of tea from you as you sit down next to him. He takes a shy sip, careful not to burn his tongue. It’s perfect, as it always is. You always know the right amount of sugar and milk to add.

“Thank you for telling me that today, I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

“It wasn’t, but it got easier when you didn’t walk away. I was so worried that you were going to.”

“I don’t think I’d have forgiven myself if I had.”

Teas are drank after that, and Fred whispers goodnight to you before kissing your cheek in a rare moment of tenderness. He lets himself out of your flat, making the short walk back to his where he throws himself on the couch and lets himself wonder when exactly he had started to fall in love with you.

-----------------

Two more months follow, and Fred knows that he’s now arse over tea kettle in love you. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes, that you like to shove under legs when laid on the couch together, so he yelps at their temperature.

Two more months follow, and Fred feels like he’s maybe able to start living his life again, but in small doses. He writes to his mother more who’s delighted by the tales he tells of you and your growing relationship; he could never keep anything from Molly – her face too trusting and her manner too warm. All Molly is concerned about in her letters is whether Fred is happy, and for the first time in over a year, Fred can reply saying he thinks he could be.

Molly won’t ever tell Fred this, but she cried at that letter, feeling her heart burst with happiness for the son she had always worried about.

Time passes, and Fred spends more and more time with you. Breakfast dates, lunch dates, movie marathons on the couch – he does it all with you. You even go so far as to make him decorate his flat more; pictures of his family now line the walls as well as the picture of him and George on the opening day of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

That’s when he knows he needs to go back to Diagon Alley, and he’s taking you with him.

-----------------

At nine am on the dot, Fred knocks on your door until you open it. You glare at the red-headed man, demanding to know his presence at your door when he only left at four am after binging the entire Godfather trilogy without realising how long the films are.

Fred beams at your state, “Go get dressed, I’ll make you some coffee.”

“Why?” You ask, puzzled.

“I’m taking you to Diagon Alley and my joke shop.”

You stagger back a couple of steps, “Really? Are you sure? Are you ready?”

Fred’s grin moulds into something softer at your concern. “I am, and I want you to come with me.”

A slow smile breaks across your face, “Give me ten minutes and we can go!”

You rush into your room; pulling open the doors to your wardrobe and raking through to find any sort of clothes you’d wear to visit a magical shop, and possibly meet the twin brother of the man you’d fallen in love with.

Minutes later, you exit your room, pulling a brush through your hair to make yourself look more presentable. Gratefully, you take the cup of coffee from Fred’s hand before rushing into your bathroom to brush your teeth and spritz yourself in your favourite perfume – jasmine, lavender and citrus.

You drain the dregs of your coffee as you leave the bathroom. Dropping the pale pink mug in the sink, you turn to find Fred leaning against your kitchen counter with an amused and entertained look on his face.

“Someone’s excited, I see.” He teases.

You pout, “It’s not every day I get to go see magical London, magic man.”

Fred claps his hands, laughing quietly. “Come on then, let’s get you to Diagon Alley.”

--------------

Diagon Alley is nestled behind Charing Cross Road; it’s the largest area of wizarding London and is completely hidden from the muggle world.

Fred has been visiting Diagon Alley for as long as he can remember; flooing there with his mother and Bill, Charlie and Percy to collect their things for the latest school year. As a child, he loved visiting Florean Fortescue’s when the budget permitted it; getting a single scoop cone with rainbow sprinkles.

As he enters the Leaky Cauldron, leading you in by the hand, Fred is a mix of fear and excitement making him act jittery as he approaches the familiar face of Tom, the barman.

“Fred Weasley? Is that you?” Tom asks, a large smile on his face, “I haven’t seen you in over a year! How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, Tom. How have you been?”

“Never better – you know me.”

Fred smiles, nodding. “I’m heading out back, is that okay?”

“Anything for a Weasley. Does this have something to do with the muggle hiding behind your back?”

You reveal yourself from where you’ve hidden yourself behind Fred. Keeping a tight hold on his hand, you smile shyly at the barman, “I’m (Y/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Tom smiles politely, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” Tom turns his attention back to Fred, “You know what to do.”

Fred parts ways with barman he had grown up knowing, pulling you to the back door which opens into a small courtyard.

“Fred, love, it’s a dead end.”

“Are you sure?” Fred asks with a smirk, reaching for his wand. “Want to see some proper magic?”

“Always, magic man.”

He grins at the use of your nickname for him before tapping his wand on the bricks blocking your way. You cry out as the bricks begin to move; shifting to the side to reveal an entryway to a cobbled street lined with shop after shop all varying in colours.

Letting go of Fred’s hand, you take your first step into the wizarding world; already in love with every aspect of it, just as you’re in love with every aspect of the man making his way to your side.

“What do you think?” He asks, breathless at the sight of the place he hasn’t seen in a year.

“This is unlike any other place I’ve seen.” You hold your hand out for Fred to grab, “Show me around?”

“With pleasure,” Fred replies, wrapping your hand in his, tangling your fingers.

Fred takes you on a tour of the Alley; stopping outside Ollivander’s and getting out his wand to explain the importance of the place, turning his wand around to show you what he means. He tells you the story of Harry Potter; of what his wand meant, being the twin of the wand that had killed his parents. Your heart breaks for the boy you had never met; had never even heard of until today – you ask after him, how is he now? Fred reassures you; after all, he’s fine, Harry’s dating his younger sister much to Fred’s chagrin.

He takes you into Florean Fortescue’s, buying you ice cream for breakfast as any adult should have. Your eyes widen at the taste of the Butterbeer ice cream; butterscotch and buttercream icing bursting on your tongue. Fred smiles at your expression, licking his way through his own ice cream – strawberries and cream for nostalgia’s sake.

Sitting down at a small table, you tap your ice creams to each other in a toast. “Where are we going next?” You ask, catching a drip of the melting ice cream with your tongue – not missing the way Fred’s eyes track the movement.

“I thought we could visit my shop.”

“Your shop?” You ask in disbelief, “Are you sure?”

Fred nods, catching a drip on his own ice cream. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes also track the movement of his mouth. “Yes, I’m sure.” He looks away, ashamed, “I’ve left George alone too long.”

You reach for his hand across the table, “I’m sure he understands, Fred.”

“I know he does, but it doesn’t stop the guilt.”

You rub your thumb across the back of his hand in a comforting motion, “Are you sure you’re okay to go? We can always come back another day.”

“You’d come back with me?”

You grin, “Of course, this is the best ice cream I’ve ever had. I’m here for you, magic man – who else is going to kill the spiders in my bathroom?”

Fred relaxes, “You’re the best, you know that right?”

You take another lick of your ice cream, “I do know that. Do you want to stay and see your brother, or do you want to go? I’m happy with either, but you’re going to have to give me time to get more ice cream.”

Fred laughs at your words, “It is good ice cream,” he takes a lick of his, “No, let’s go. I need to see him; I need to apologise.”

“Alright then. We’ll finish here and then we’ll go to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes… at last.”

He nods, remaining silent. The ice creams are finished in silence; questioning looks sent to each other across the table. Your feelings for Fred often overwhelmed you with their strength; never imagining that knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning could ever lead to something like this. In the short time you had known the man, you had fallen head over heels for him and also had your entire worldview altered by finding out about the existence of magic.

He’d quite literally turned your world upside down, and the only thing that ran through your mind through it all was: I hope he feels the same.

Soon though, faces are wiped on napkins and hands are back to hold each other’s as Fred leads you from the ice cream parlour to where the orange top hat stands out against the darkly coloured shops.

In a last minute attempt to delay the inevitable, Fred pulls you over to the pet shop. You coo over the animals; pointing to the Puffskein with questions burning on your tongue. Fred answers them all happily, delighted to delay walking into the shop and brother he’s neglected for so long.

After a few more minutes, you step away from the shop window citing the temptation being too great and you may end up smuggling the Puffskeins to the muggle world.

“That was a fantastic distraction, magic man.”

“Wasn’t it?” He admits, blushing at having been caught out but not wanting to lie to you, “It worked like a treat.”

You chuckle, “It really did. They remind me of clouds do the Puffskeins; neon, furry clouds.”

Fred snorts, “An excellent description.”

The joke shop now looms in front of the two of you; the bright orange and purple of the paintwork almost luminous in the morning light. Fred stops in the middle of the pavement; feet stuck to the floor, unable to carry him forward. He’s avoided this for so long, but he finally feels ready to insert himself back into the life of pranks, jokes, and happiness.

Your grip on his hand tightens, “I’m here, magic man. I’m not going anywhere.”

His nod is the only sign you get to know that he’s heard your words.

Taking a deep breath, Fred begins to put one foot in front of the other; a hand outstretched for the door handle to the shop, giving it a light push. The bell above the door rings, signalling his entrance into the shop but also his entrance into his old life.

The shop is quiet; it being still too early in the day to get masses and masses of shoppers. Their busy season is the three weeks in August before terms starts where students come to buy their school books but to also stock up on items of mischief.

A near identical man to Fred stands up straighter from his position behind the counter. He starts to open his mouth, to welcome the new customers to the shop but when he looks up, the words never leave his mouth.

He simply freezes in place.

His eyes flicker between the two of you quickly, before running over the man stood next to you. Looking for what, you don’t know.

In between one blink of an eye and the next, he’s thrown himself across the counter, sprinting to where Fred stands in the entryway.

No words are spoken; he just holds Fred’s face in his hands before pulling him in for a hug that’s been long overdue.

You step away from their reunion, letting your eyes roam over the shop. They need this moment alone; you don’t need to invade by watching them. You wander a little; fingers running over displays. You frown when you see you an area lit up in pink titled ‘Love Potion’.

You pick up one of the little bottles shaped like a heart; the bright pink liquid inside jostling as you examine it.

“Careful,” A voice sounds behind you, “It’s a powerful potion.”

Turning you find Fred’s twin, George watching you with inquisitive eyes. “What does it do?” You ask, fiddling with the stopper.

“It mimics the effects of love and obsession. If you smell it, you smell the person you love.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Truly?”

George nods, “Truly. We sell crates full of the stuff nearing Valentine’s Day.”

Releasing the stopper from the neck of the bottle, you take a delicate sniff. Peonies, rain, and Yorkshire tea come filtering through. The very smells you’ve become to associate with the man who had never really been your neighbour but has always been something more.

Replacing the stopper, you drop the potion into George’s waiting hand. He pockets it before turning back to face his twin.

“What did you smell?” Fred asks as you settle back next to him.

You shrug, “Nothing I didn’t already know.”

George grins at the two of you, “Is this the famous (Y/N) from your letters to mum?”

You nudge Fred with your elbow, beaming, “You write to your mum about me, magic man?”

“Hold on – magic man?” George asks, eyes glancing at both Fred and you.

You nod, “It’s my nickname for him.”

George chuckles, “It’s brilliant. I may have to use it myself.”

Fred blushes at his brother’s use of your nickname for him. He doesn’t say it, but it doesn’t sound right coming from anyone else’s mouth but yours.

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). Mum already loves you. I’m George.” George introduces, holding a hand out to you.

You shake his hand twice before dropping it, “It’s very nice to meet you too, George. Fred has told me so much.”

“He has?”

You nod, “He’s told me all about the pranks you played at Hogwarts and why you set up this shop – which I think is wonderful by the way – I feel like I already know you.”

George shifts his gaze to his twin, “I don’t know why but I didn’t think you’d talk about me.”

Fred gapes, “Of course I talk about you. You’re my twin brother, you’re practically half of me.”

George shrugs, “You only send letters to mum… I just assumed.”

Fred steps forward, placing his hands on George’s shoulders, “Mum made me promise to write, I couldn’t break that. I wanted to write to you so much, George, but the guilt I felt as just leaving you and the shop was too much and then more time passed. I’ve been an awful brother; can you forgive me?”

George laughs, tears falling freely down his face. “There’s nothing to forgive now that I know why.”

Fred hauls George into a hug; neither afraid to show their emotions through this reunion. Fred had been so worried before this; thinking his brother might turn him away at the door, but now holding him in his arms, he’s just happy to have his twin by his side once more.

They pull away with a sob; George clapping Fred on the back. “Will you be returning to work, Freddie?”

Fred’s eyes land on you; where you’ve stood silently through the whole exchange, just happy to see the two brothers reunite. His eyes search your face for something, and he finds it in your smile. “Yeah, George. I think I might do.”

George glances between you and Fred as if seeing the connection there. He keeps his mouth shut but smiles at the fact that his twin has found someone to share his life with.

You spend a couple more hours in the shop; pottering freely as Fred and George discuss the state of the business and when Fred would like to start work again. Pride runs through your veins as you listen to them from the upper floor; Fred has achieved so much in such a short space of time and you couldn’t be more prouder of him.

You also couldn’t be more in love with him. He handles himself with such grace; standing taller, smiling more. The more time you spent with him, the more you could feel yourself falling for him. Nights alone in your flat had you thinking of what it would be like to be laid in bed next to him – would he cuddle? Would he let you lay your head on his chest? Or would he prefer to spoon? You had spent so many nights thinking of these questions, trying to think of answers.

“(Y/N)?” Fred calls from the lower floor, “Are you ready to go?”

“Already?” You ask, descending the staircase.

Fred nods, “I’ll come back tomorrow and talk more to George about what I need to do. It’s time we got some lunch, however.”

Your stomach grumbles at his words, “You’ve got great timing it seems, magic man.”

He shakes his head, laughing softly, “No. I just know you too well.”

You smile at him before turning to George to say goodbye. George smiles at you, saying, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other very soon,” with a wink at Fred.

The tips of Fred’s ears burn red as he claps his twin on the shoulder, promising he’ll call in tomorrow. “Tell mum you’ve seen me, will you? I know she worries,” Fred calls on his way out.

“Already on it!” are George’s final words before the door closes.

----------------------

Sitting at a corner table in The Leaky Cauldron, Fred continues to ride on the high from seeing his twin brother after a year apart. He’s positively ravenous; the nerves before having dampened his appetite. He takes it upon himself to order for the both you; checking that you don’t mind. You wave him away, stating that you wouldn’t even know where to begin with ordering.

Tom hands Fred your drinks after ordering, letting him know it’d be around ten minutes before food was with you. Fred thanks the barman, picking up the drinks to return you.

“I’m really proud of you, Fred.” You state, taking a sip of the sweet Butterbeer.

“You are?” He asks bashfully.

“I am. It took a lot of bravery to do what you did today.”

Fred blushes, but doesn’t drop his eyes from yours. “I think I’m going to be brave one last time.”

“You are?”

“Yes,” He states, reaching for your hand, “I’ve only known you for less than six months but in that time you’ve helped me find who I was before the war. You’ve helped me find the laughter that was missing. What I’m trying to say is, is that I’ve fallen in love with you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, Fred,” You sniffle, “I love you too.”

“You do?”

You nod, “I really do. I love every last bit of you.

Fred sags in his chair; holding onto your hand tighter, “I was so worried you wouldn’t love me back.”

“No chance of that, magic man.”

The smile that breaks across his face is simply breathtaking, and you thank your lucky stars that the man you’ve fallen in love with, loves you back, just as much.

Tom fetches your food over then, settling two plates onto table. It smells divine and without letting go of Fred’s hand, you pick up your fork and dig in.

The meal is eaten in silence; happy looks and secret smiles exchanged over the steaming plates of food. Fred’s thumb rubs over the back of your hand; the motion now having another meaning alongside ‘I’m here’. Elation bubbles within you, flooding your veins. The love you feel for this man is entirely encompassing, filling your very pores, combining with your genetic makeup.

For as delicious as the meal is, the both of you barely taste it. Plates are empty in no time, and Fred leaves Tom a tip on the table. He pulls you up with him, dragging you to the door and back to muggle London.

It feels like a fever dream; stepping back into the reality you’ve known all your life until you met the red-headed man stood next to you.

Fred tugs you into him; his arm wrapping around your waist. He drops your hand in favour of caressing your cheek. His brown eyes sparkle with love and joy as he dips his head, pausing just before he touches his lips to yours, waiting for permission. You grant him in the form of pushing your mouth to his.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in close, feeling all of him pressed against all you. He tastes of the butterscotch from the dregs of his Butterbeer and you hum against his mouth – it’s intoxicating. He’s intoxicating; you could lose yourself entirely in him and you wouldn’t mind a bit. Your hand runs through his hair, tugging lightly. Your toes curl at the sound of the low moan from the back of his throat.

From the outside, this looks like a simple passionate embrace between a young couple. They don’t know how long this kiss has been in the making; how many time you’ve wondered exactly what Fred would taste like, and now you have that knowledge, it’s not something you’ll be parting with soon.

Eventually, you pull away from him, coming back to the surface for breath but Fred doesn’t let you go. He holds onto you tightly, pressing kiss after kiss to your face making you giggle at his affectionate side.

He lets you go for a single instant to pull you into the side street beside The Leaky Cauldron. He wraps you tightly into his side, savouring the feel of you lined next to him.

“This is going to make you dizzy,” is his only warning before he apparates back to your flat.

----------------

Though confessions have been uttered, Fred takes his time to learn your body.

Kissing you slowly; peeling your clothes off your body with the air of someone who has all the time in the world – and he does. He takes his time to memorise every inch of your body; every dip, every curve, every freckle. He commits it all to memory though the both of you know that you’ll be doing this for a very long time. He whispers words of worship into your skin; your body was a cathedral and he was going to worship at your feet.

You take your time with him; running your hand through the hair on his chest before trailing it lower, watching how the muscles in his toned stomach jump at your touch. A simple touch, and it drives him wild.

He draws you in for a kiss; flipping the both of you so you’re underneath him. He braces himself above and you spend the rest of the night, and most of the morning, learning the noises that can be evoked from a kiss in the right place.

-----------------

It surprised Fred that it takes his mother almost a month to send him a letter demanding that she finally get to meet the person who had stolen her son’s heart.

Fred reads the letter beside you at the breakfast table; chuckling at his mother’s words over his morning cup of tea. He hands you the letter once he’s finished reading, watching your face for every emotion as well as letting his gaze drop to the small purple bruises at the base of your neck, laid there by his mouth.

You hold a hand up to your mouth, repressing the smile. “Your mother wants to meet me?”

Fred nods, “She has for a while, but I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“There’s no chance of that now, magic man, especially after last night.”

Fred blushes but beams, satisfied. “Would you like to meet them?”

You pause, tilting your head to one side as you think of how to phrase your next few sentences, “I don’t want to presume anything, but I’d like to think I’m going to be in your life for a long while. I think the earlier I meet your family, the better.”

Fred takes your hand in his, dropping a kiss to the top of it. “You aren’t presuming anything; I want you in my life for an eternity and more. But are you sure you want to meet them? I’m from a very large family, and if I know them, it’ll be partners as well.”

You lean over to press a kiss to his cheek then to peck his lips quickly, “I love the worry, but it’s okay. I want to meet them, and I want to see pictures of my magic man as a baby.”

Fred groans; he’s forgotten about the baby pictures but from the look on your face, he know he’s fighting a losing battle. He kisses you quick, “I’ll send an owl to my mum now, letting her know we’ll come tomorrow, how does that sound?”

You hum happily, “That sounds like just enough time for me to find an outfit good enough.”

-----------------

Molly Weasley opened Fred’s letter with a shriek; rushing to reply before getting started on calling the family together. She sends her Patronus to Charlie in Romania; threatening death should he not return home for this occasion. Charlie replies within two hours by showing up on the doorstep with his girlfriend, Evie in tow.

The whole family under one roof again would be something of an event; and one Molly would not waste by having petty squabbles and nasty reminders. She lines her family up in the living room; boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands and wives and proceeds to lecture about what this means. She’s grateful it being a Friday evening so she can lecture the whole family without absentees claiming work as the excuse.

Halfway through her lecture to her family, Arthur places a soft hand on her shoulder, “Molly, dear, we’re going to be on our best behaviour.”

She whimpers, “I haven’t seen my son is so long, Arthur.”

He wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulder, knowing the toll Fred’s absence took on her. He had been the unexpected twin; but they didn’t love him any less for it. On the contrary, Molly loved him more for the fear of his siblings making him feel unwanted.

“I know, dear. But we all promise to be on our bestest behaviour, don’t we gang?”

Confirmation rings out across all six of their children and their partners. Molly levels them all with a look, “Fred is bringing his muggle girlfriend with him, and George has told me it’s serious. We aren’t going to have a problem with that are we?”

“Definitely not,” George calls out to the agreement of his siblings and siblings-in-law, “(Y/N) is a sweetheart; you’ll see the moment they both arrive.”

Molly dismisses her family; dispersing them to different rooms with different jobs to make the house presentable for Fred and (Y/N)’s visit tomorrow.

-------------------

Tomorrow arrives quickly, and before you know it, the sun is shining through your window and the birds have begun their morning song. Fred’s arm hangs over your waist in a dead weight; you shift him gently as you make your way out of your bed and into the bathroom to begin your day.

By the time Fred wakes, you’re dressed and are brushing through your hair. With a lazy grin, he watches you get ready for the day. He’s in utter awe of how he met someone like you, but then you meet his eyes in the mirror and that awe transforms into something warmer.

He drags himself out of the warm bed desperate to feel you under his hands. He places his hands on your shoulder, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Good Morning,” He whispers, his voice still raspy with sleep, “You look beautiful.”

You hum, “Good Morning sleepy head. The kettle boiled a few minutes ago and there’s a teabag waiting in your favourite pot.”

“You’re a dream,” Fred calls out, pottering into the kitchen.

“And you’re a flatterer, magic man,” You call back; grinning when you hear his laughter.

Time flies by in a rush of breakfast, clothes, and kisses and before you know it, it’s time to apparate all the way to Devon.

“Are you ready?” Fred asks; your hand tight in his. You don’t miss the double meaning to his words.

“Take me to Devon, magic man,” is all you reply before your flat turns into a whirlpool of blended colours and you’re spat back out on the outskirts of green, green farmland.

Not letting go of your hand, Fred leads you in the direction of his childhood home. Air he hasn’t smelt in over a year wash over him, bringing with it a tidal wave of memories. Nostalgia settles within him as he glances down at you to gauge your reaction to his home.

The Burrow stands proudly in the valley between two hills. You gasp at the sheer height of it, “This is where you grew up?”

Fred nods, eyes on you, “It is. I lived here until I moved to London.”

“It’s incredible,” You whisper, taking a step forward, and then another, and then another until you break through the long grass into a clearing. A garage is situated to the left of the large house, and you can just make out the canes for a vegetable garden. You nod as if understanding every motive for the placement of everything; if you were to live somewhere like here, you’d too grow your own food.

Fred draws your attention back to him by speaking, “Through there is where we practice Quidditch; the game I told you about from Hogwarts?” He continues when he sees you nod, “Then behind there is a pond that a family of frogs live in. To the right of us is mum’s garden, it’s her pride and hoy – she excels at household charms, but she’s a wonder in the garden too.”

“Fred, this place is incredible. I already love it and I haven’t even met your family.”

Fred smiles, “You won’t need to wait very long; here’s George.”

You turn from the sight of the growing vegetables to see George making his way over to you. “Fred! (Y/N)! How are you?” he calls out.

Fred waves at his twin, leading you to him. “We’re good, Georgie. How is everyone?”

George beams at his twin and then you, “They’re beside themselves with excitement. Mum screeched when she got your letter; gave us a lecture on decorum and everything.”

Fred laughs; his heart swelling with love and fondness for the woman who had raised him with such love and care.

“What do you say, (Y/N)?” George starts, “Ready to meet the Weasley clan?”

You grin at George and then at Fred; utterly besotted by this man, “Lead the way.”

George claps his hands before turning his back on you, heading towards the open door. You follow him at a faster pace than the one you had done when walking up to the house. Eagerness settling in your stomach as you keep your eyes on the open door.

Fred keeps pace with you easily; both nerves and excitement coursing through his veins.

He hears his mother before he sees her, “Fred! My darling,” she cries, tackling him into a hug so tight Fred thinks his ribs might break. You pause next to him; Fred’s arm angled awkwardly as he hugs his mum with one arm – you move to let go of his hand so he can hug his mother properly, but his hold on you tightens.

“Hi Mum, I’ve missed you,” Fred says at the sound of her cries, “I’m home mum, and I’m starving so let’s get something to eat, shall we? I’ve missed your cooking too much.”

Molly wipes her eyes, running them over her son, “I think you have. You’re looking far too thin, darling,” Her eyes land on you; they widen for a second before she’s tackling you in a hug. She whispers, “Thank you” in your ear before saying much louder, “I’m so glad I finally get to meet you, dear. I’ve read so much about you I feel I know you already but it’s never the same thing.”

You return her hug with just as much vigour, “Thank you for having me, I love your home.”

Molly pulls away, “You’re lovely; you’re perfect for Fred, I know it. Come on in, it’s time we ate, and you can meet the rest of the family.”

Your stomach ties itself in knots as you follow Fred into his childhood home. Voices starts to shout upon the sight of Fred entering the home; he grins at them all, greeting them by name, passing out kiss after kiss on the cheek as well as hugs to his brothers.

Then it’s all silent as the crowd turns to you. Fred’s hand drops your and his arm wraps around your waist, “Everyone this is (Y/N). Please be nice, I’m rather fond as you’ve probably heard from mum and George.”

Everyone greets you as if you’ve been part of the family for years; kisses on cheeks and tight hugs as everyone introduces themselves. A dream of your since you were child was to have  a large family, and now with Fred, it seems as if that dream would finally be possible.

His arm rests on the back of your chair as the family take their seats at the table. The food is served with loudness and love; Molly taking extra care with her cooking to make sure it’s perfect for you. From your first bite, you understand what Fred was on about all those months ago. After eating Molly’s food, you would be ruined for anyone else’s.

It’s wonderful; they take you in with open arms, ignoring the fact that you’re a muggle because to them, it doesn’t matter. They aren’t bothered whether you have magic or not, just that you love Fred and make him happy.

------------------

After the meal, Fred watches you interact with his family; explaining to his father the purpose of your degrees and your plans for the future as Arthur sits there entirely enraptured. He watches you asking Charlie question after question about Dragons with Charlie only being too happy to answer – his girlfriend Evie chiming in every now and then with her own knowledge on the subject matter.

He watches you talk animatedly; eyed wide and hands gesturing wildly, fitting in with his family better than he could have dreamed of.

Sighing happily, Fred realises three things:

One – his family would always be there for him, no matter the issue. They’re there to help, to never hinder.

Two – he’s still healing. It will be a long time before he’s recovered from the war, and he’s accepted that.

And three – he’s moving forward with all that in tow because he’s found the love of his life and he’s finally ready to start living it.

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @harrypotter289​ @dreamer821​ @kalimagik​ @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @the-hufflefluffwriter​ @figlia--della--luna​ @bforbroadway​ @idont-knowrn​ @summer-writes​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @black-lake-confessions​ @annasofiaearlobe​ 

Fred Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

[chudleycanonficfest]

The Soul Truth

Day 2, Story #1 is by @honouraryweasley12

Title: The Soul Truth

Author: honouraryweasley12

Pairing: Ron x Hermione

Prompt: Soulmates

Rating: K+

TW: none

The ornate doors slid open and Hermione stepped out of the lift, her shoes clacking on the stone floor as she walked forward, head held high but movements stiff. She quickly found that it was best to give off a strong, confident air as she met with various ministries in her new capacity. 

She hadn't been in this part of the Ministry often and it was quite unfamiliar to her. All the more reason to keep her guard up.

"Greetings, Minister Granger-Weasley. Congratulations on your victory."

A wizened old man in heavy, dark robes welcomed her, limping forward and holding out a shaky gnarled hand. She took it and met his eyes, which were still sharp—despite his advanced age. A playful twinkle shone out from them, reminding her immediately of Dumbledore.

"Thank you."

He gave her a smile. "Welcome to Archive floor of the Department of Mysteries."

She looked around the cavernous space, taking everything in. She could practically feel the hum of ancient magic reverberating around the walls.

"And you are?"

"I am the Archivist."

"Oh, I meant your name."

He chuckled. "We don't use our given names in this department, just our titles. There is great power in names, as you no doubt know, and we don't want that to interfere with the work we are doing here."

"What should I call you?"

He thought for a moment, before looking up at her. "For today, you can call me… Dave."

She immediately relaxed and shook her head, her face incredulous. "Why Dave?"

"Ah, you see, the power of names. By picking something so simple and informal, your posture and tone changed completely. Had I picked something more formal, you would have responded in kind."

She smiled, immediately taking a liking to the mysterious old man. "Lead the way, Dave. I was told I would be receiving the grand tour."

The two walked slowly through the vast archives, the various rooms and chambers full of different experiments, mystical objects, and parchments.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione stopped to ask, noticing that they hadn't seen a single person, Unspeakable or otherwise, as she was shown around.

"Some of our greatest breakthroughs happen in the early morning or late evening. We encourage our members to work when it best suits them." He squinted at a battered gold watch that seemed to weigh heavily on his wrist. "Yes, 3:00 PM is usually the quietest time of the day down here."

"I see. I do some of my best work at odd times as well."

He nodded sagely. "The quiet mind is often the clearest."

They continued touring through, until they came to a small door tucked behind several suits of armour. It was so old and dark that Hermione wouldn't have even noticed it, had Dave not mentioned it.

"Most Ministers of Magic I've worked with seem to be worried about other objects down here that might help them, but I have something interesting which I think you'll appreciate."

He fished out a small key from within the folds in his robes and turned it in the lock. The heavy door creaked open to reveal a closet-sized space with a single pedestal. On top of it sat a thin, aged book.

"It's my understanding that you are an avid reader, Minister."

"Yes, how did you know?"

"It's my job to know," he added gravely, watching her eyes narrow. He waved his hand dismissively, grinning again. "No, no, I'm only joking. I happened to share a lift with Auror Weasley one Monday morning, and while I didn't mean to eavesdrop, he was complaining quite loudly to Auror Potter that he missed you, because you had your nose stuck in a book all weekend. I mean no offense, of course."

She blushed and rolled her eyes affectionately. "That sounds like Ron alright."

"That's why I thought this might be of interest to you," he continued, gesturing to the pedestal.

She couldn't help but be intrigued as she stared down at the frail old book, her voice dipping down to a whisper of reverence. "What is it?"

"It's called The Book of Souls—though it's just a single parchment. Yet, it's the most dangerous object down here."

Hermione stared at it, her face a mask of awe. "How so?"

"Legend has it that the parchment was created by a powerful young witch, who was being courted by a prince. She wasn't sure if he was her soulmate, for she sensed a darkness in him, so she invoked some very ancient magic to help reveal the truth."

"It worked?"

"Indeed, it did. The parchment was charmed to reveal a small note, riddle, and sometimes even a name to the reader, one that would help them understand who their soulmate was. Unfortunately for that witch, her soulmate was most decidedly not the prince. She rejected his proposal, and as was the case back then, disappeared under mysterious circumstances soon after."

"That's terrible. Then what happened?"

"As the story goes, rumour spread about the witch's parchment, and as with most powerful objects, the lure of it drew out many seekers. Though the object was made with good intentions, it soon led to a trail of darkness and bloodshed. Broken families, obsessions, blackmail, jealousy, and even death. Knowing that kind of unshakeable truth proved to be a valuable commodity, or a lifetime of heartbreak for those unable to meet their soulmate."

Hermione nodded. It sounded very much like the Elder Wand, but more subtle and insidious. One thing was puzzling her though. "I've never heard of this before, and I've studied many books about souls, both ancient and dark."

"Once the Ministry recovered it, they deemed it was too dangerous for this information to be out there, so they've removed all known references to it. Those who had known of it died off, and it was forgotten from memory."

"When was this?"

"Centuries ago. However, as Minister, you are privileged to learn certain pieces of information that the general population is not privy to."

"Fascinating," Hermione replied. She watched as he slowly reached a hand toward the weathered book. "Wait! What are you doing?"

"Every so often I check to make sure it's still under the cover, and since we're already in here, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. Does… does that mean you've looked at it?"

"Oh no, never. I always look away, as should you."

He lifted the corner for a second, and try as she might, Hermione couldn't help but open her eyes to see a word of blazing red ink, before he shut the cover again. Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, unable to comprehend the word she saw so very briefly.

"No, it couldn't be."

"What was that Minister? Did you say something?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Everything seems to be in order here. Shall we continue?"

Hermione nodded mutely, the word still burned in her thoughts.

~*~

She cancelled the rest of her meetings and went straight home after finishing with Dave, or whatever his real name was, needing time to collect her thoughts. How could she tell Ron, the love of her life, what she had seen?

She sat at their dining table, absentmindedly stirring a soothing cup of tea when he walked in.

"Hermione, I'm home."

He came bounding into the kitchen, a piece of parchment in each hand and a wide smile on his face. "Look, the kids wrote. Hugo promises he's already started studying for O.W.L.s, and Rosie is nervous, but excited, to captain her first match against Ravenclaw next week."

"That's great," she replied, her voice a dull monotone.

"They even said their classmates think it's cool that you were elected as the youngest Minister of Magic in history."

"Hmm."

Ron looked at her and frowned. "What's wrong? Tough day?"

Hermione pulled out the chair next to her and patted it. "Come sit down."

Ron scrutinized her again. "The last time you did that, it was to tell me you were pregnant with Hugo. Are you pregnant?"

She sighed. "No, please just come here, I need to tell you something, and I don't think you're going to like it."

He sat down, unsure of what was coming. She quickly told him about the Archivist, the tour, and the Book of Souls, before swearing him to secrecy.

"You saw something when he lifted the cover, didn't you?"

She nodded sadly. "I saw a word."

"What did it say?"

"I-I don't want to tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not true. Whatever it says, it's not true."

"C'mon Hermione, please tell me."

"It said… Krum."

Ron let out a laugh. "Oh, is that all?"

"What do you mean? Viktor Krum is my soulmate, and that's all you have to say!?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"That you're upset, that you care that I was destined to be with Viktor."

"Destined? We have two beautiful kids, an amazing family, and great careers. I don't care what some ruddy old book says, the charms are probably wonky anyway." He pointed to his chest. "I know that I love you with all of my heart, and you feel the same."

She slid into his lap and threw her arms around his neck. "I do, you know I do… but…but…"

"What?"

She suddenly burst into tears, burying her head in his neck as she sobbed. "I-I always had this idea in my head that we were real soulmates, if such a thing existed. We met when we were so young, and I've only truly ever loved you. I know it's silly, but I hate that it's not true. I didn't even like Viktor that much."

Ron ran his fingers through her hair and rubbed her back comfortingly. "Maybe it was a mistake or something. You said yourself you only saw one word."

Her breathing started calming down. "I-I suppose that's true."

"We know what happens when a charm or prophecy is misinterpreted."

She sniffled. "It would be nice to know."

Ron gave her a squeeze. "Maybe we should sneak in there tomorrow and take a look."

"We can't just sneak in there! I'm the Minister of Magic! Besides, there was a key to get into the room. I don't know how we're going to get it from the Archivist."

"You're the Minister of Magic. I'm sure you could come up with some reason to be there."

She gave him a dirty look. "I'm not abusing my position like that."

"I don't mind abusing my position, as you put it. Maybe I can say I'm researching something for a case."

"No, Ron. What if you get in trouble?"

"Who am I going to get in trouble with? Harry? You?"

"That's not the point. We swore we'd never take advantage of our roles for our own gain."

He sighed. "Fine, you're right. Sneaking in it is, then. It'll be like the good old days! A secret mission, breaking into places we have no business being in. An ill-formed plan. It'll be fun."

She smacked him on the arm. "Those days were terrible."

"Aren't you curious though, to find out the truth?"

"Of course I want to know the truth! I don't want to go through the rest of my life thinking Viktor was my soulmate, when it's clearly you."

"As sweet as that is, we clearly only have one choice."

Hermione shook her head. "Fine."

"Good, things like this are much easier when you're agreeable to them," he smirked, nudging her playfully. "You said 3:00 PM was when it was empty, right? Meet me in my office tomorrow at 2:55 PM, and we'll head down there. I'll just tell Harry we're going to a broom closet or something."

"Ron!" Hermione screeched. "You'll do no such thing."

"It's perfectly plausible. It's not like we haven't done that before."

She blushed, unable to count the number of times they'd had fun at the Ministry. "Alright, fine. 2:55PM at your office."

"Good. Now, I'm starving. I'll whip up one of your favourites. I bet I'm a better cook than ol' Vicky. What do Bulgarians even eat?"

"Not funny, Ron."

~*~

The next afternoon, Hermione was found pacing in front of Ron and Harry's office, much to the fear of the recruits who were stationed outside the door. It wasn't often the Minister of Magic would show up unannounced, muttering under their breath.

The door swung open and Ron sauntered out, his lips upturned in a smug smile. Harry's face had gone a shade of green from what he'd just heard from his best mate.

"Hi, er, Hermione," Harry greeted her awkwardly. "You two… um… have fun."

Mortified, Hermione could only return a quick wave before grabbing Ron's arm, hauling him toward the lifts before she was forced into any further interactions with Harry.

"I honestly can't believe you told him we were going to go shag."

"I literally told you I was going to say that."

"I didn't think you actually meant it." She let out an exasperated snort and pinched the bridge of her nose as they entered the lift. "What's the plan?"

"Plan?"

"You are the Head Strategist of the Auror department. Surely you must have thought of something!"

Ron shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "We'll make it up as we go. Seems to work best for us."

"I don't like this one bit."

The ding of the bell signalled they had arrived.

Ron clasped her hand, their fingers entwining. "Let's do this."

The doors opened and they were greeted with utter silence. It was as if the entire floor was abandoned, which it likely was.

They crept forward, trying to make as little noise as possible before finally reaching the same spot she had been the previous day.

Hermione turned the handle of the door, and to her surprise, it was unlocked.

"Hey, look at that!" Ron exclaimed loudly.

"Ron," she hissed. "Keep on the lookout."

He nodded and stood in front of the armour blocking the door, ensuring that Hermione couldn't be seen, in case they were interrupted.

Hermione took a deep breath, her heart pounding. Whatever it said under the cover wouldn't change anything between herself and Ron, but she needed to know for sure.

Her fingers paused for a second, lightly gripping the frail corner, her body tense. She delicately opened the book, the bright red ink bursting into view, almost glowing in the small, dark chamber.

Her greedy eyes flew over the words that were revealed.

"I knew it," she whispered.

Ron suddenly poked his head in. "Everything alright?"

"Perfect. Everything's perfect and wonderful!" Her giddiness couldn't be contained as she closed the ancient text.

"I guess this means you aren't going to chuck me?"

"Never."

"What's it say?"

Her pink cheeks were starting to hurt from her wide grin. "Your soulmate will first love, then hate, a Mr. Viktor Krum."

"That confirms it. See, nothing to worry about."

"Oh Ron, I'm so relieved. I knew it couldn't be true. This whole thing is ridiculous, but I'm still glad to know it's always been you."

Ron nodded. "Me too."

"We should leave before we get caught."

"Not so fast, it's my turn now."

"What?" Hermione asked sharply. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Might as well take a look while I'm here."

Hermione stepped back, biting at her bottom lip—a sure sign of anxiety. "But… but… what if—"

Ron cupped her cheeks in his large hands and gently kissed her. "It doesn't matter what it says, I love you and only you. Trust me."

She nodded, before resuming his place as the lookout.

After a moment, she heard him chuckle and close the door behind him.

Hermione whispered urgently. "What did it say?"

"It said my soulmate will be a nightmare."

Hermione let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Thank goodness. I don't think I would've been able to handle it if it wasn't me."

"It's always been you. I thought you'd have learned by now."

"I know, I never should have doubted it."

"Can you imagine if we'd learned this information when we were younger? We might have been able to get together much sooner," Ron remarked.

"Or we'd have made an even bigger mess of things."

"True. It doesn't matter in the end though, does it? We figured it out and we've done pretty damn well for ourselves."

"We have, Ron. I love you."

"Love you, too. We'd better get out of here before someone sees us."

The two quickly retreated to the lift, having successfully completed their mission. A minute after the doors had shut on the snogging couple, an old man slowly made his way toward the chamber and pulled a small key out of his robes, locking the heavy door.

As it's appointed guardian, he had vowed to never look in the book, and he had kept that oath. That didn't mean he couldn't use it's power in other ways. Past Ministers, those inquisitive few who had the intelligence to understand the book's worth, often revealed something in that moment when he checked the parchment, for good or ill. Usually it mattered little to him, but not in this case.

He paused for a moment, before extracting a small glass sphere from the same pocket as the key. A sphere he'd kept with him for many years, since he was a young man working with prophecies in the Department of Mysteries. Knowing Minister Granger-Weasley was coming to take a tour was the perfect opportunity to solve a mystery he'd been researching for the better part of seven decades.

He held it up to the light, the familiar swirls of mist dancing in the globe. He had long since memorized the prophecy, which had been made by a seer almost a hundred years earlier. His colleagues at the time had dismissed it, because like many visions, it was almost impossible to determine what the seer was referring to.

He had kept this one, for it always gave him hope. He never thought he'd actually solve it. Yet here he was, still alive and able to record this last surviving prophecy in the annals of history.

He turned it over in his hands, the glass still unblemished.

"Magic," he whispered, "such a wonderful tool."

He stared at it again, reciting for the last time the fates encompassed within.

"Two soulmates, brown and orange, will form a triangle with black to defeat evil. Through many trials the two will forge a love so strong it will be unbreakable, and their strength will reshape the world."

He let out a final chuckle, his long-held desire now confirmed by the soulmates themselves. He lifted the glass to his lips, his breath fogging up the shiny surface.

"Prophecy fulfilled."

The sphere melted away into nothing, the outcome recorded somewhere else in the archives. He shuffled away back to his office, his eyes sparkling, and his heart lifted with hope.

[pterodactylterrace]

Title: Go To Bed

Chapter:  1/1 (can be considered a follow up to Goodest Boy or a standalone. You don’t need to read Goodest Boy to understand what’s going on.)

Summary: He’s just one giant toddler when he’s been drinking

Rating: T

Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Drunk Henry. My botched attempt at a drunken British accent.

In retrospect, staying with Henry at the same time that a 'very important rugby match' was on TV, may have been a bad idea. Don't get me wrong, everyone was super polite. They were also super loud. And as the night wore on, they became super drunk. Add to that the fact that I know nothing about rugby and I wasn't having the best of times. I definitely should have tried to reschedule my visit for the next time I would be back in London. It was only a few weeks away, rugby season would be over by then, right? Did rugby have a season, or was it an all the time thing?

I could probably ask him that when he was sober. As for right now, he was several rounds deep, and probably wouldn't understand the question if I did ask. If he could even hear me. How are they all so loud? Which team was I supposed to be rooting for again? They are all probably drunk enough to not notice me leave right now. I could just walk right out of this madness and curl up all cozy with a book.

My plan went off without a hitch, easily detangling myself from the pile of dudes drunkenly fixated on the TV and walking straight out and up to the guest room. I should probably lock the door in case Henry forgets I'm here and offers the room to one of his pals. The last thing I want to deal with is a drunken stranger in my room in the middle of the night.

The door muffled their boisterous laughter and cheering well enough. I could still hear them, but I was able to concentrate on my book. I fully drowned out the noise as I immersed myself into my favorite fantasy realm for what had to be the tenth time. Once my eyes grew too heavy to force open anymore, I marked my page and clicked off the bedside lamp, snuggling down into the bed for a good night's sleep. I had the suspicion I was going to be the one making breakfast tomorrow.

What was that sound? It sounds like scratching. Is Henry's house haunted? I really needed to check if people's homes were haunted before staying with them for any length of time. When I heard it again, it was accompanied by a whimpering sound, followed by a booming bark. Good news, it was just a bear scratching at my door, not a demon! Henry probably forgot to let him out again before he went to bed.

"Shh, buddy, Henry's probably getting some much needed sleep right now." I soothed as I opened the door. Kal hopped down the hallway, whimpering and tapping his feet when I didn't follow right away. Poor boy must really have to go. "Alright, come on. Let's get you settled for the night." I sighed, following after him.

I was more than a little confused when Kal led me to the kitchen instead of the backdoor. Did Henry not give him dinner? No, he fed him before everyone came over. Was that little piggy trying for another dinner?

"Kaaaaal!" I heard a familiar voice drag out, followed by what could only be described as giggling. "Kal, ca' you ope' the pea'butter?" I cautiously peered around the island, groaning when I saw Henry sprawled out on his back, attempting to open the bottom of a jar of peanut butter. He must really be out of it.

"Henry." I called, slowly stepping closer to him.

"Abi!" He cheered, lifting his head to look at me, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

"Is there a reason you're laying on the kitchen floor?"

"I... I drop it." Henry explained, holding the jar up, only for it to tumble out of his hands once more, bouncing off his stomach. "Ouch. Not nice."

"Can you stand up? You'd sleep a lot better if you went to bed." I explained, offering him my hand to help him up.

"M' fine." Henry scoffed, abruptly popping himself up into a sitting position. He blinked rapidly a few times, trying to regain his equilibrium before turning his head to look at me. "Abi!" He cheered again, throwing his arms around me locking me in a bear hug, his face buried in my stomach. "You' so nice." He mumbled, his voice muffled by my shirt.

"Ok, save the snuggles for when you're in bed." I sighed, wiggling my way out of his grasp.

"You stay wit' me?" He gasped excitedly, scrambling to his feet and accidentally tackling me when he tried to me hug again, somehow managing to twist us so he took the brunt of the fall. "I... 'm sorry." He mumbled after a second, popping his head up to look at me, still clutched to his chest like a child with a teddy bear.

"Come on, you need to get to bed. No more tackling." I attempted again, slipping free again and stepping back as my gigantic host rose to his feet. It was times like this, when he was unsteady and unaware of his sheer mass, that I am reminded of exactly large he is. He typically carries himself very well, he is gentle in spite of his strength. When he's drunk, he's a bull in a china shop.

"m snack." He whined, looking dejectedly at the still un opened jar of peanut butter on the floor.

"Sorry buddy, I talked with sober Henry and he told me he has a strict rule about peanut butter in the bed."

"He sound' like a... stupid." Henry mumbled, leaning against the island and rubbing at his eyes.

"Now come on, big guy. Bed time." I repeated, gently turning his shoulders toward the hall and giving him a small push in the correct direction.

"'s your bed time." He grumbled, taking unsteady steps to the hallway, pausing when he reached the archway, leaning on it and looking back at me again. "You' go ta bed."

"After I make sure you're safe for the night." I compromised, shooing him down the hall again.

"I can... I can take care 'o m'self." He scoffed, pinballing his way down the hall to the stairs. "See? You' bein' dramatic." He yawned, plopping down on the third stair and leaning back against the rest them.

"And you are trying to take a nap on a staircase."

"No 'm not."

"Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill, get your ass up those stairs and go to bed, right now!"

"Tha'... tha's kinda hot." Henry chuckled, his eyes popping open to look at me again. "You bein' bossy. So lil' and bein' bossy." He continued rambling as he crawled his way up the stairs, giggling to himself the entire time. "Call' m' by m' full name an' ever'thin'."

"Keep it moving." I sighed, grabbing onto his hips to steady him when he stood himself back up to weave his way down the hall, finally shoving the giant onto his bed, relief washing over me when he landed face down, bouncing safely on the mattress. "I'll get you some water and a painkiller. Don't move." Henry groaned and shot me a thumbs up from his face down position, finally turning his head so he could breathe.

I was halfway back up the steps, Kal dutifully following me when I heard a loud thud from upstairs. Of course that stubborn man wouldn't listen when I told him to stay put. I rushed the rest of the way back to his room, rolling my eyes when I found him sitting on the floor, trying to wrestle his shirt over his head.

"Help." He whined, pausing in his struggle when he took notice of me and his canine companion standing in the doorway. Kal only huffed at his human, trotting over to his bed and curling up for the night, content his job was done.

"I thought I told you to stay still." I chastised, setting the glass of water and pill bottle down before helping him out of his shirt.

"I gotta take a piss." He grouched, pushing himself up on unsteady legs and stumbling off to the bathroom.

"I am not cleaning your bathroom if you pee on everything!" I called after him, my shoulders slumping when I heard him start swearing from the bathroom. "You just peed on everything, didn't you?"

"No! Fuckin' zipper!" He yelled back. "AH HA! I got it! Hey... Hey, Abi, I got it." He called triumphantly.

"Thank God." I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. I was getting a headache of my own from dealing with this over grown toddler. "And make sure you leave your underwear on!"

"'S on!" He grouched, shuffling back in just his underwear, sending me a dopey grin. "Abi!"

"Yes, Henry. I'm still here."

"Oh 'm glad 's you." He laughed, wrapping me in his arms and leaning his weight on me. "You... you're th' bes'."

"And you are drunk." I reminded him, shuffling us around to sit him on the edge of the bed.

"So pretty." He sighed, snatching me up again and burying his face in my chest. "Mrr mmeee."

"I'm sorry, Henry, I can't hear you."

"I said marry me!" Henry repeated, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he looked up at me. "It'll be great!"

"Now I know you're trashed." I laughed, pushing his forehead until he fell back on the mattress.

"Noooo." He whined reaching for me again, though I was sure to stay out of his reach this time.

"You don't know what you're saying, Henry." I soothed, grabbing his long, muscular legs and heaving them up onto the bed.

"Yeah I do." He pouted, his hazy eyes locking on me again. "You're th' bes'. You... You're always there 'f me. Gon' marry you."

"Ok, big guy." I sighed, throwing the blankets over him.

"Stay." His voice was so quiet I wasn't sure I heard him at first, but then I heard him wiggling around in the bed before speaking again. "Plea' stay?"

"Henry, you're drunk. I don't think that's a good idea."

"Pleeeeease?" He whined, pouting back at me. "I wan' make sure you don' run 'way 'morrow."

"I won't go anywhere, Hank. Get some sleep, I'll check on you in the morning."

To say I was surprised to find Henry not only walking around the next day, but bringing me a cup of coffee before I even woke up, would be an understatement. He looked freshly showered, he had dressed himself and judging from the smell wafting through the house, he even cooked something. He really was Superman.

"Morning, Abi." He greeted, shooting me that obnoxiously handsome grin.

"Morning, Henry." I yawned, sitting up and rubbing at my eyes. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, I'm doing much better now. Thank you for helping me last night."

"I'm shocked you're doing so good."

"Well, it is almost three in the afternoon." Henry chuckled, shaking his head at my panicked look.

"Why did you let me sleep so long?!" I gasped, scrambling out of the bed like it burned me.

"I'm pretty sure I kept you up a fair bit last night. It's all a bit fuzzy, honestly, but I thought you earned a bit of a lay in."

"How much do you remember about last night?"

"Not much. I remember wanting peanut butter and you yelling at me, but not much else."

"So you don't remember asking me to marry you?" I teased, laughing when all the color drained from his face. "You know, if you wanted to be more than friends, all you had to do was ask."

Taglist: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient

[ack3rlady]

The Universe Had His Back - Chapter 5

Sunrise

Summary: The aftermath of the breathtaking encounter between reader and Levi when true feelings are revealed

Chapters: Four | Five | Six

Master List

Warnings: Fem! Reader, Angst, Fluff, Modern AU, Reference to alcohol abuse, slight swearing.

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

Inspiration: Starry Night - Suho

Tags: @sooibian, @queenofcurse, @red-n-tall ; Anyone else who'd like to be tagged, please let me know!

You accepted Levi’s offer to drive you home, a decision you would come to regret the moment the car was in motion. The journey was quiet, with you mostly looking out of the window as he drove. Your greed for more time with him that you didn’t account for how dejected you would go on to feel once the adrenaline dried out. You hadn't exactly ended things with him on amicable terms. The ride home in his company just added salt to the unhealed wounds. Levi turned his head towards you several times like he wanted to say something, but didn't.

“How’s Luna?”, your words finally cut through the silence, voice low and shaky.

“She’s fine. Isabel stayed at home with her today.”, he responded, eyes focused on the road.

Then it was quiet again. It took all the strength to bottle up the multitude of emotions building up within you that were burning to be expressed. So, you decided to focus your attention on the row of lush green trees along the sidewalk, whirring past you.

Levi quelled his desire to lay his hand on yours more than once; intertwining your fingers snugly together while you ran soothing circles on the back of his palm - something he always did while driving with you by his side.

‘Old habits die hard’, he thought. Neither of you uttered a word again till your apartment building was around the corner. You sat glued to your seat, unmoving even after he parked.

“You know that you could just come see her, right? She asks about you every day.”, Levi’s gaze was still fixed on the car parked in front of his own, his voice barely audible.

You sighed, feeling ashamed for depriving your own baby of your presence.

“I’m not ready. What if I can't keep it together in front of her? I need to get better before she sees me.” you despaired, looking down at your feet, too afraid of the effect on Luna if she saw you like this.

“I’m going to be right there with you. And how do you expect to get any better if you deny yourself the exact person who is capable of making you feel so?”, Levi turned in his seat to face you, placing a firm hand on your shoulder.

He was right. Of course, Luna was the only one who could pull you out of this abyss. Why had you been running away from her this whole time?

“C-Can I come see her after work tomorrow?”, you squeaked.

��You don’t have to ask. We’ll both be waiting for you.”, he whispered moving his hand to rest on top of yours.

You finally mustered up the courage to look towards him. He wore the same smile on his face that you had been in love with for the last eight years; the exact one that always assured you that everything was going to be okay.

.

Reader’s POV

You entered your apartment and laid the shopping bags on the counter. Taking off your shoes, you placed them neatly on the rack by the door, taking a little step towards keeping the word you gave Miche this morning. It was late in the evening; the Sun having just set. You glanced around your gloomy apartment, at the dark shadows and how even the brightest colored paints and fabrics looked somber in the dusk’s dullness. The eeriness of the space was starting to eat at you when something shiny on the kitchen platform caught your eye. It was a bottle of whiskey, its amber liquid gleaming in the residual rays of light entering through the window.

The conflict in your head began as you started walking towards it absentmindedly. Was tonight going to be the same as the other wretched ones of the last two weeks? Faces of Luna, Levi, Miche and Nanaba flashed before our eyes as you inched towards the humble kitchenette. Finally at your destination, you picked up the bottle and stared at it, putting up a hard fight against the demons in your head.

You jumped when the door to your apartment suddenly slammed open, making the bottle almost slip out of your hands.

"Sweets!", A loud voice called out to you, the light from the window reflecting off the intruder’s glasses.

It was a moniker given to you by your dear friend based on "your profession and character" as they liked to call it. But the truth was, it was a part of the 'couple name' they had created for you and Levi called 'Short and Sweet', earning them a few punches from the holder of the other half of the title.

“Hange, you almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing barging into my apartment like this?”, you grumbled.

“Well, your door was unlocked. So, how was your run in with Shorty? Tell me everyth... What the fuck is that?”, they began with excitement, but it dissipated as soon as they switched the lights on and spotted what you held in your hands.

You looked like a thief caught in the act. Guilty.

“It-It's nothing. I wasn’t drinking it.”, you stuttered, hastily putting it away.

“You mean you hadn't started drinking it yet?”

They were probably right. That’s how your evenings usually began these days. You tried your hardest to conquer the need for a drink, only to eventually give in and ending up passed out somewhere in your apartment.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock. Miche and Nanaba tiptoed inside through the still unlocked door with guilty smiles, as if ready to turn on their heels in case if you decided to chase after them.

“So? How did it go with Ackermann?”, they asked eagerly in unison.

“Wait. Was my day broadcasted in the news or something? How do you already know?”, your face had a giant question mark stamped on it.

“Who do you think brought it all together?”, Hange grinned, proudly wiggling their eyebrows.

You furrowed yours, and audibly gasped seconds later when it hit you. The sequence of events played before your eyes; how each person you had seen today and led to you meeting Levi. First Miche and Nanaba, then Suki. Your jaw slacked, and you gaped at each one of them in complete disbelief at what they had just pulled off.

Miche quietly slithered to position himself closely beside you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders – a little too tight. Well, you were contemplating introducing their jaws to your fist, so you guessed he was just being cautious.

“Who else knew of this?”, you hissed.

“Not Shorty, if that’s what you’re asking. I cooked up the idea. But it was Erwin who played commander and assigned roles! Everything from you and Levi having the same day off work, Suki and Furlan pestering you two into going with them, Nanaba and Miche forcing you out of here, Isabel staying home with Luna so that Levi could leave, and now us being here to witness the success of our little project, it was brought together by him. In fact, Erwin is checking in on Levi as we speak!”, Hange exclaimed triumphantly.

You felt stupid after finding out that you and Levi got played by practically everyone you knew. How were they this good at keeping it under wraps?

“Why did you do this?” You asked.

“Because you are both too stupid realize how crazy you are about each other and how this estrangement is paining you. So, we just decided to nudge you in the right direction. You’re welcome, by the way!”, Nanaba grinned.

“What are you even talking about? He’s the one who willingly ended what we had.”, you despaired.

The memories of the months preceding the divorce were fresh in your mind. Levi couldn’t stand being in the same room as you for more than a few minutes at a time, constantly falling out with you over something or the other. You remembered how much it hurt when he always seemed irritated by your sheer presence.

“Rubbish! You should know by now that Shorty is a complete moron with his feelings. Don’t you remember how long he stalled asking you out on a date all those years ago? And also, how I finally had to ask you for him? This is history repeating itself, silly!”, Hange chuckled, gently flicking your forehead

“Erwin and I see him every day, Sweets. We know how much he regrets letting you go. But he’s too much of a chicken to do anything about it. We’ve been badgering him to reconnect with you for a while now. But he was terrified of making a move. The dumbass is utterly in love with you. Precisely why Erwin and I decided to take matters in our own hands.”, they stated matter of factly.

The barrage of information caught you completely off guard. But you couldn’t help but dwell on one detail in particular -

“He’s still in love with me?”

.

Levi’s POV

Levi felt restless on the drive back home, aimlessly fidgeting with his seatbelt and rapidly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He was worried about you. Well, he always was, but more so because of what happened today. He suppressed the constant urges to turn his car around and return to you because he needed to get home to Luna and relieve Isabel of her baby-sitting duties.

He parked the car in the driveway and walked through the front door, momentarily freezing upon seeing a tall blonde man seated on the couch with Luna half asleep on his lap, immediately relaxing after recognizing who it was. He was reading her a story from one of the many books you had bought while Isabel was lounging on the loveseat beside them, her face glowing under the light from her phone screen. All three turned to Levi upon hearing the jingling of his keys.

“Papa!”, the little one was refreshed by the sight. She ran to greet her father by wiggling her way off the man’s lap and on to the floor and hugged is leg.

“Hi, moon beam! Erwin, what are you doing here?”, he asked as he gave Luna a kiss and then looked up at the man.

“I’m here to check in on you. How was your meeting with uh... ahem?”, Erwin cleared his throat instead of mentioning your name in the toddler’s presence.

“Check in on me? How do you know about that? What did you do?”, Levi’s temper audibly rose with each question.

“I’m going to tuck Luna into bed, and you are going to wait right here for my return. We need to have a little chat.” he glowered at the taller blonde before he could answer, ignoring the sheepish smile slapped across his little sister’s face.

Luna was out cold the moment her head rested on the pillow given how worn out she was after horsing around with Isabel all day. Additionally, story time with Erwin already had her feeling drowsy by the time Levi had returned home. Ten minutes and a few goodnight kisses later, he was sitting at the dining table with the two adults, sipping tea that Erwin had just brewed.

“When do you plan to start telling me what is going on? I could have had dinner during the wait.”, he jibed.

“I take it that Suki and Furlan were successful in bringing you two face-to-face?”, Erwin’s tone was casual, maintaining steady eye contact with his old friend.

He proceeded to explain in great detail, how he and Hange worked with both your close friends to hatch this plan.

“Can’t you two keep your eyebrows and shitty glasses out of my fucking business?”, Levi growled.

“Since you both can’t communicate like mature adults and figure things out for yourselves, we had to step in as catalysts. Hange is at her apartment right now, making sure she’s okay.”, Erwin kept his defense short.

Levi was at a loss of words. Sometimes he felt like he wasn’t worthy of his two friends. Hange and Erwin always went out of their way for him when he was hit with a challenging situation, and all he ever did was snivel about it.

“Fine. I’ll give you both credit where you deserve it. I had been wanting to see her myself. But I didn’t know what to say. She is coming over tomorrow to see Luna. So, thanks, I guess.”

Erwin knew that this was the closest thing to an apology and appreciation that he was going to get from Levi. So, he took it with a smile.

“Awesome!”, Isabel's scream cut through the calmness.

“And you.”, his fiery gaze landed on her at the far end of the table where she strategically seated herself away from the reach of her older brother in case if he was particularly irked. “I’m going to take care of Furlan later. But you too are hiding things from me now?”,

“Hey! I was just following Erwin's orders! And how could I say no to having my favorite person all to myself for an entire day?”, she reasoned, her face resembling a cartoon cat that Luna was fond of; Puss in Boots, was it?

“So, how did it go?”, Erwin intervened before Levi could scold her further.

Levi took a minute to gather his thoughts. Images of your face flashed before his eyes, making his tense posture relax significantly.

“I - I don’t even know how to describe it. I feel like for the first time in forever, I might sleep well tonight just because I met her. She looked so beautiful.”, his lips showed signs of the smallest smile as he ran his fingers along the rim of his teacup, gazing at the dark liquid contained within.

He quickly composed himself after realizing that he had in fact just said these words out loud and they were not just in his head, but it was too late. Isabel oohed with amusement and yelped after receiving a flying spoon to the head from him.

“It was also... a stark reminder of what an absolute piece of shit I have been to throw away everything we had. She’s in so much pain.”, his softened expression clearly revealed the despair behind his words.

“As are you, Levi. You made a grave mistake. Unfortunately, you're not the only one who is paying for it. But there is no use lamenting over the past, is there? What counts is what you plan to do now. Have you decided what you will say to her when she visits?”

Levi let out a long, suffering sigh. “I regretted what I did the moment I came back to an empty home from the court that day, Erwin. Seeing her today only reaffirmed how shitty my life is without her. I need to win her back. I’m afraid she’ll reject me after what I did to her. But - But she still needs to know that I -

I’m still in love with her.”

Chapters: Four | Five | Six

[lokis-little-kitten]

Teaching Assistant 2

Title: Teaching Assistant Writer: Lokis-Little-Kitten Pairing: LokixReader Rating: Mid Warning: spankings, mentioning of masturbation, ED, college, teacherxstudent Summary: You get a job as a teaching assistant for you professor Loki Laufeyson. Quickly the relationship takes a turn when Loki offers to teach you the robes of BDSM.

‘’Print Goddamit,’’ you scream at your small printer when it refuses to deliver you your story. You had gotten up in time to print those damn papers but nothing… It was on and everything. 

Angrily you slap your Laptop closed and put it in your bag. Another class awaits you in a moment. You pack up your things and leave for your class. A nervous tingle is in your stomach. This will be the first day that you’re the official teaching assistant from Professor Laufeyson!

‘’There is my bitch,’’ Dimitri calls out when he sees you on campus. ‘’I can’t believe you managed that girl.’’ He pulls you into a tight hug while congratulating you. ‘’Thanks,’’ you shyly reply. 

Then the interrogation starts. Dimitri asks you a thousand questions about yesterday. He buys you your coffee and then you leave for class. 

Meanwhile in professor Laufeysons office. He walks in and turns the lights on. He runs a hand through his glorious hair before striding to his office. The professor gets everything ready for the day when he suddenly notices his printer. A stack of papers hangs out of it and some lay on the ground. 

He sighs deeply and starts to gather it. My Pleasure. Y/N Y/L/N. He frowns deeply. Why would you randomly send this to him? Probably he just needs to read and correct it, it wouldn't be the first time a student wants him to read their work. Sending it ten times, however, is a little overdone. 

He takes a map and places one version of it. Afterwards, he bins the leftover papers since they are unnecessary now. Loki starts to prepare for his first lecture then pushing the story to the back of his head. He’ll read it when he has time. 

The day passes quickly full of lectures and students asking all kinds of questions. He gets quite some papers turned in that are to be graded before he can return to his office. When he arrives you are waiting on the bench for him. 

‘’Punctual are we,’’ Loki sighs unlocking his office, ‘’I didn’t expect you for another ten minutes?’’ He gives you a look as he lets you in. ‘’My professor let me go earlier, professor…’’ He nods a little and closes the door behind himself. 

Loki takes out the papers he received and lays them out. ‘’These need grading. The only thing I expect you to do is grammar and spelling check. I want you to be stern and merciless, think you can do that?’’ Quickly you nod as he hands you a few papers with a red sharpie. ‘’Yes professor…’’ You lay it down on his desk and start the job immediately. 

The grading takes a long time but that’s fine. You learn a lot from it. After a few hours, Loki puts away his marker again. ‘’Could you please go get me a black coffee?’’ he hands you five pounds while still reading. 

‘’Yes… Of course!’’ You take the five pounds and grab your jacket. ‘’Go get yourself one as well.’’ You look a bit surprised when he says that and not. ‘’You drink latte’s, don’t you,’’ Loki frowns while thinking, ‘’get yourself one of those.’’ ‘’Thank you.’’ 

Quickly you get to the cafe close by to get the coffee’s that one cost one pound fifty so you have two pounds left to return to him. When you return you notice the new stack of papers in need of grading and hold back a sigh. This is your life from now on… 

The next days go the same until it is finally weekend! Glorious weekend! Loki has been the same cold, stern and rude professor to you the whole week and you can’t wait to take a well-deserved break! 

You spent your weekend, writing, working on Saturday, drinking coffee and watching movies. Your quite a domestic person. You like being at home without anyone else but you love the occasional party as well.  

Loki lives further from Campus. You are still in the dormitory but have a room for you alone now and made it your own. It is a bit of a maze because of the closets, bed and other things but it is yours. 

You again try to print some of your stories but again your printer refuses to spit out the papers. You mumble something rude and then decide to leave it alone. You’ll print at Dimitri’s later or in the library. 

Back at Loki his office he just came to bring some graded papers and get some other things. He walks in and lays the stab of essays down when he notices his printer is on and loads of papers are printed once again. He gets the papers quickly before pulling the plug from the damn thing. 

Again you… He should have a word with you that you shouldn’t abuse his printer like this. He gets the map in which he placed the other stories you sent him. He takes those home too, he might as well read them then. 

When he gets home to his flat on the top floor of a large building he sits down on a chair near the window while looking out over his beloved city. He starts to read the stories with a flaming red Sharpie in hand to point out all of your mistakes. 

Soon, however, it becomes clear that this is not what he expected it to be, at all… The more he reads the deeper the frown on his forehead gets. What were you thinking? He needs to have a good talk with you Monday… 

Back home you are seated on your four-poster bed watching a show before bed when you get a text from the professor. 

Professor Laufeyson.

We need to talk. It’s important. I have already informed your teachers you won’t be coming to class. I require you to be at my office at 9 AM, you better be there on time!

Y/N Y/L/N Yes Professor. I hope it is nothing too serious?

Professor Laufeyson. I’m afraid it is Miss Y/L/N. I will see you tomorrow.

Nerves are tangled in your stomach. You have been awake almost the whole night. You worried about the situation you got yourself in. What happened, what did you do? You feel like a small child again, kicked out of yet another family for no reason… 

You are now seated on the bench next to his office unable to keep your mind straight. Hot tears burn in your eyes from pure fear of the professor… 

When he finally turns around the corner he doesn’t even acknowledge you. No look, nod or ‘good morning’ he just walks past you and opens his door. He eventually does call you in and tells you to take a seat. 

When you sit down you feel scared and small, even more now you are in the presence of Professor Laufeyson… He looks at you sternly for a second before opening his bag and pulling out papers. You frown a bit. What is that? 

‘’Do you understand that it is highly disrespectful to send your professor such rubbish? If you weren’t my teaching assistant and liked you I would step to the dean right away.’’ You look at the raven-haired man with large eyes. Whatever is he talking about? 

‘’I’m so sorry professor but I don’t know what this is about,’’ you carefully chime in. He slaps the papers on his desk. ‘’So you didn’t write this rubbish?’’ ‘’Write what?’’ ‘’You really do not know what this is about?’’ He stands up and walks around his desk to the side where he leans on it again. 

‘’His hands tangle in hers when his large dick thrusts into her. She screams out while he simply groans. Legs are tangled while Jonny thrust into her womanhood with great force.’’ Tears start to gather in your eyes. 

The stories were printed out here that's why your computer kept saying it was printed but your actual printer didn’t do a thing… That means he read it. Your secret is out and you will be expelled for it! How did this happen to you?

‘’Jenny her hands tangle into the ropes Jonny tied her up with.’’ He sighs deeply and walks towards the fireplace. He is now behind you while tears start to stream down your cheeks. This can only happen to you… 

You can feel Loki his presence right behind you. He throws the papers in front of you. They are full of red marks. Oh no… He actually read it? You expected that he would have stopped after he found out what it really was… 

‘’I’m so sorry. I tried to print them at home. They were never supposed to get to you, professor. I swear it is just a misunderstanding!’’ He lets out a sarcastic laugh. ‘’It better is! It is clear you never even met a treu dom… You clearly don’t know what you are doing or what that community really is.’’ 

Suddenly his large hand crawls up to your neck. ‘’But don’t worry, little girl,’’ he speaks in a now softer tone, ‘’I’m willing to teach you everything you need to know. If you agree to it of course.’’ You swallow unable to say a thing. 

What is he proposing? For you to become… To become his sub? What does that even really mean? He is right after all, you don’t have an ounce of experience. 

‘’I…’’ You don’t know how to reply. Do you want this? Do you want this with him? You have to admit you had the occasional fantasy about him in the bedroom but that won’t be a reality. Maybe you want to find out what that reality is? 

‘’Tell me, little one, are you going with my offer?’’ ‘’Yes.’’ He leans in further until his lips are right next to your ear. ‘’Good. Rule number one then, always address me with Master, understood?’’ You take a deep breath before replying. 

‘’Yes, master.’’ ‘’Good girl.’’ 

Permanent Taglist @sherlocksuperfan666  @ms-marveleous  @straya4lifemate@ lexiiiii28 @ thegoddessnyx02 @marvelfangirllll  @gingers-writing king-stony@mr-hiddlestons-pet@ dark-night-sky-99@metalheadspider @fuckthatfeeling @ god-save-loki @ devilbat  @mariekoukie6661 @darkprincessloki92 @ gravitational-anomaly @ welpsher @ umi4724

Loki Only Tag List @bambamwolf87,  @mr-hiddlestons-pet, @meyoko10  @notan-applepielife @suchannoir  @deputy-orange-juice @wolfcore227 @green-nightlight loving-life-my-way

[dilexit]

The Laundromat ~ IRL!Karl Jacobs

Summary: College isn't always exciting but even laundry days could make the front page

Pairing: Karl Jacobs x GN!Reader (preestablished relationship), College AU (kinda, basically Karl and the reader are in college but Karl is still a streamer because I wrote it then realized it didn't make sense later)

This is based on a story about my aunt that I find really cute

Warnings: Swearing, and I'm not sure if I need to TW this but like detergent and soap but it's just fluff

(R/m/n) = roommates name

Requested: Yes No

(Y/n) loved their apartment building, it had everything they needed low noise, affordable, close enough to the campus, their landlord wasn't creepy and most importantly their boyfriend, Karl, lived in the apartment complex across the street. The only thing that (Y/n) hated was that there wasn't an laundry room in the complex itself but there was one walking distance from the complex. (Y/n) couldn't wait to get a house where they didn't have to bring their laundry to a laundromat next to the best ice cream parlor in town especially during this hot summer. (Y/n) was laying in their bed late morning on their phone when they remembered they needed to go grocery shopping as they were out of cereal and that was basically what they and their roommate lived off of. Groaning (Y/n) pulled their self up off the comfort of their bed and headed to the chest of drawers across from them. Opening the middle door and reaching in to grab some black shorts only to find none of them were clean. (Y/n) bent down to grab a pair off of the floor but knew they worked out yesterday and really shouldn't re wear the sweaty shorts. They pulled on a pair of blue shorts that they couldn't wear to classes tomorrow as they were, well blue. That's when they made the decision to go to laundromat.

"Hey (R/m/n), I'm heading to the laundromat where's your laundry bag?" They shouted down the hall to the other bedroom

"Oh here let me grab it," Their roommate yelled back. Soon enough they were handed their roommates ridiculously bright orange laundry bag which was already super heavy. (Y/n) then went to get their navy blue bag adding to the weight.

"Bring me back a strawberry ice cream cone please," (R/m/n) said handing (Y/n) some cash and six quarters. (Y/n) rolled their eyes but was glad because quiet frankly they also wanted some ice cream. They went to grab their keys and the bottle of detergent and headed to their car. The drive was like 3 minutes and the ice cream parlor filled the parking lot as the early summer sun was beaming down on the little corner shops. They popped their trunk and headed into the laundromat just to be met with the hum of mechanics and the cool air conditioning. There were only a few people in the laundromat but it never was too busy as the other complexes near by had their own laundry machines. (Y/n) found two open machines and got out their quarters popping six into the first machine then emptying all the two bags darks and reds into one machine. Then six more quarters into the second machine adding the lights into the other machine. Adding detergent to both machines and starting them up. The low hum began and that left them an hour to get ice cream then throw the loads into dryers. They grabbed their bottle of detergent and headed to the ice cream parlor.

Karl was holding his grey laundry bag in front of the laundry room door that was locked with the words "OUT OF ORDER" in large red letters.

"At least I did my lights yesterday," he said to the emptiness. He threw his laundry bag over his shoulder glad he actually knew where a laundromat was due to his S/O. He sat in his car searching for some loss change to now avail. Deciding there had to be a ATM by a quarter only laundromat and went to the corner shops. The little hope he had to see his S/O faded when he didn't see their car. Karl pushed the door open and was met with the cool air conditioning. To Karl's luck there was an ATM and next to it was a little machine where he could get a one time thing of detergent. He got his coins and detergent and found an empty washing machine. He threw in his load of darks and stared at the machine watching it start to spin, giggling a little bit finding joy in the simple action. Seeing he had around 40 minutes for his clothes to be done he went back to his apartment working on some twitch things.

(Time Skip)

(Y/n) checked their phone seeing their hour was about up they headed back to the laundromat. The three minute drive felt so tedious as they had only been there an hour prior. Pulling into a random parking spot just trying to be in and out as quickly as possible. Pushing open the door and finding their machines done running and ready for them to switch them over to a dryer. Knowing they'd have to be back again anyway they find the need to stay around but as they were pulling out they could have sworn they saw Karl's car but shook it off knowing his apartment had its own laundry room.

As Karl was pulling into the laundromat's parking lot he noticed a familiar car driving past him but it was so fast he couldn't tell so he brushed it off and went to switch over his clothes from the washer to the dryer and headed home.

(Time Skip)

(Y/n) felt a small wave of relief when they got into their car for their last trip to the laundromat. The sun was still shinning and making the cars leather seats hot and damp. Although today felt way too long, it was only around 2:50pm they had enough time to be productive enough. The went into the laundromat noticing that no one was around. The dryers were done and the doors were unlocked and (Y/n) started separating their clothes from (R/m/n)'s clothes. The little bell atop the door rung but (Y/n) didn't look up until they felt hands on their back.

"I thought I saw your car," their boyfriends giggly voice says causing (Y/n) to turn around excitedly giving Karl a hug.

"You scared me Karl!" They shouted, "Wait why are you here?" they asked realizing that he shouldn't be here for his laundry

"Our laundry machines are broken so I had to come here," he said sliding to the machine next to (Y/n)'s machines to start unloading his laundry. Karl unloaded his things much faster than (Y/n) as he had only his lights while (Y/n) had their and their roommates lights and darks. While separating their socks from (R/m/n)'s socks, (Y/n) felt eyes burning holes into their head. They turned to meet eyes with Karl causing them to giggle,

"What are you looking at Karl?" they asked

"You," he responded as if it was not weird in anyway

"Ok," (Y/n) giggled again and before they knew it Karl was leaning in capturing their lips. It was only a quick kiss but sent sparks through their body anyway. PDA wasn't out of the ordinary for the couple so they went on not really giving it any second thought until the next morning when (Y/n)'s breakfast was interrupted by (R/m/n) slamming down that weeks little local college newspaper.

"Look at this!," (R/m/n) shouted "You made the paper!" (Y/n) looked over and low and behold there was a picture of the laundromat security footage when (Y/n) and Karl had kissed the title reading: "Karl Jacobs and (Y/n) (L/n) share a quick kiss in between loads". (Y/n) sent a quick picture of the paper to Karl who responded that he already sent the picture to his streamer friends who say he's got no game. They were ready from a long day of teasing from (R/m/n).

[fenheart87]

Tall Cappuccino

Felt good to finish something and it started the ball rolling on other WIPs that I've been neglecting. Enjoy this humorous one shot based off my mom and her best friend creating a "coffee code" to talk to about cute guys and it backfiring. Did not work as well as it does for these two though.

“Girl, you need to get over Greg-” Alya started, opening the door to the coffee shop and holding it for Marinette and a few other customers.

“His name was Fillippe.”

“Or whatever his name was and get back out there! You are so sweet and beautiful and your parents have the best pastries in Paris-”

“Are you proposing marriage to me or my family?” Marinette frowned playfully when Alya reached out to pull her ponytail.

“Hush you, my point is we need to scout for potential dates for you. We can treat it like undercover research, a much better version than those schemes from our lycee days. Oh, we can have a codename for the hot guys we see so we’re not obvious about it. So where do we want to start looking?” The reporter stepped in line, glancing at the menu with half hearted interest.

“My dreams?” Marinette scooted forward so a barista could pass through, the balance of that many drinks was an amazing feat.

“I’m just saying you need to open your horizons and take a chance. You could get any guy’s number you so much as smile at and while I’m glad you don’t use your powers for evil, you need to use them to snag a boyfriend.” “All lies, do you think the caramel mocha will have caramel or just be a poor imitation?” Marinette pondered aloud, scanning the drink specials but not impressed by anything.

“You’re so coffee obsessed… Hold on a minute, what if we made a code using coffee to scope out some guys? Then maybe you obsession for coffee will lead you to true love instead of just a heart attack!” Alya grinned at her suggestion, not in the slightest put off by the dark glare coming from the shorter woman.

“Fine, since you’re so adamant about it, you buy me coffee every time we meet up to find my ‘perfect cup of coffee’ and you have a deal.”

“See, you’re already getting into it!”

The agreement took a couple weeks before they could actually start looking as both women had jobs that kept them busy and spare time didn’t match up often. A couple weeks later saw Marinette walking into the coffee shop named The Brew and savoring the rich smells of freshly crushed coffee beans. Alya had texted her that she made it first and had ordered a large cup of the newest creation for her and to not be late if she didn’t want cold coffee. Spotting her friend’s red hair, Marinette made her way over to the table and dropped herself into her chair.

“You are a zombie before coffee, it’s kind of creepy.” Her best friend pushed forward the cappuccino topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. “Drink up, I need your brain working to remember our code or we’ll never get anywhere.”

“I told you not to over plan it and you did anyways didn’t you?” Alya nudged the drink closer until she had to pick it up to keep it from falling in her lap. “Fine, three minutes.”

“I know girl, now you enjoy that and I’m going to get you a muffin and I want a scone.”

Marinette eyed the drink in suspicion but took a sip anyway, it was mocha with chocolate chips. Sighing in relief that the sprinkles were harmless decoration, until she would get to the part where she risked inhaling them with her coffee, the designer took a few more drinks. Slowly she could feel the warm feeling spread, her mind finally kicking in gear and half of it planning out her work for the day and the other half worrying about what insanity her best friend cooked up.

“Okay, so you like cappuccinos the best and you like chocolate chip muffins. Cappuccino is like an 8-10 and muffin is 5-8, hot chocolate can be a 3-5 and water is anything less. That’s how we can judge the drinks and get a better idea on what your perfect drink is.”

“You are terrible but okay, free coffee is hard to say no to.”

The first day was a total bust, no Alya I’m sure I’m not interested in girls, and they tried two coffee shops before they had to get back to their lives. Meeting up whenever they could was nice because it brought them closer instead of being too busy to talk longer than a few short calls or messages here and there. Although Alya enjoyed sending pictures and asking for a coffee rating of random guys, to which Marinette would reply with the matching emoji and sometimes even send some artfully taken pictures back.

A random Tuesday found them back at The Brew and for once Marinette beat Alya to the coffee shop. Deciding as it was midday and not early morning, she could wait for her coffee supplier to get there before ordering, Marinette found a table. Pulling out her phone to check for any updates from her best friend, and seeing none, she pulled out her current draft sketches and set to fixing or modifying the parts that didn’t blend with the look she was going for. Every so often the bell would ding and draw her attention, even going so far as to take a picture and send it with an emoji to Alya who was still stuck at work.

“Okay, this isn’t working but why?” The designer mumbled to herself, attention broken easily as she needed a distraction and turned her gaze to the door. A mistake because the man that walked in was stunning in the subtle smokey way, ripped jeans and well loved hoodie complete with steel toed boots. After her designer side was satisfied she skipped to his face and lost her breath. Blue, blue eyes brought out by the blue tipped hair and easy smile as he waved to the baristas in greeting. Quickly she opened her phone and texted Alya a hastily typed CAPPUCCINO. In perfect but dramatic timing her best friend loved so much, Alya walked in right as she sent that text.

“Hey girl, sorry to keep you waiting. There was an issue with the main story and printing and it was a nightmare! You didn’t have to wait to get a coffee, I would’ve paid you back.” She took off her jacket and hung it on the back of the chair along with her reporter messenger bag. “Oh well, I’m here now so what do you want today?”

“That tall cappuccino.”

“You and your obsession girl I swear. Should I surprise you with the flavor?”

“Nope, I want that tall blueberry cappuccino.” Marinette tried to hint towards the cute guy who was giving his order at the counter.

“Tall blueberry cappuccio?” Alya studied her for a moment, following her eyes to the blue haired stranger. “Oh, oh, got it! Good taste girl, you sure want the blueberry cappuccino? Different from your usual tastes.”

“Were you not the one who said I need to broaden my horizons and try new things with an open mind?”

“True, well then I’m hungry so I’ll be back.” Alya joined the line and left Marinette waiting anxiously. To distract herself, she focused on her sketch that was being stubborn. A ding from her phone had her admitting defeat and putting away her sketches in the folder she carried. Turning on her phone, the designer saw a picture message from Alya titled hot cappuccino. Clicking on it, the picture loaded to show a very fine rear encased in well loved black denim which happened to be the exact same pants her tall cappuccino happened to be wearing. She was going to kill her best friend.

"They don't have any muffins but you can share my scone if you want." Alya returned to her seat, offering the scone to Marinette who declined.

“Excuse me, I overheard you mention that you were interested in the tall cappuccino with blueberry so I thought I would bring you one.” Said tall blueberry cappuccino had stopped by Marinette’s side of the table and waited with a smile, with drink in hand. Alya pursed her lips in amusement, hiding her laughter by taking a sip of coffee. The designer’s desperate look of ‘oh god why me, help!’ was missed by the stranger as his name was called for the rest of his order.

“One scone and croissant roll for Luka, who had the order for the blue caps!”

“Ah, that’s me,” He smiled at the dazed woman, setting the drink down. “I hope you enjoy the drink. It’s a favorite of mine and Joel makes it the best if you want to order it again. Have a good day ladies.”

“Alya!”

“Mm, very nice cappuccino.”

“Alya, no! You just can’t leave me like that!”

“Babe,” Alya looked around and lifted her feet to look under them, “where exactly did I go?”

“You know what I mean!” Marinette groaned and hid her face behind her hands. “I totally had no response and I was not expecting that at all. He must think I’m lame.”

“There’s always the next cappuccino or you can always reorder the blueberry.” The reporter relished in the drawn out groan from her best friend, finishing off her scone.

The pair ran into Mr. Blueberry Cappuccino a few more times over their next several outings to scope out possible dates or let Marinette vent about her failed ones. The Brew was becoming a second home and the employees were starting to remember the woman and their orders. Today they even had their favorites prepared only to find out it all had been paid for.

"What?"

"Already paid for honey, someone must think you're cute." Joel winked in a flirty way, making Marinette laugh as his boyfriend smacked his shoulder on the way by.

"Uh-huh, what makes you say that exactly?"

"Well honey, not just any man buys a pretty lady a drink. And not just any man continues to do so when his lady of interest is missing a very big clue." Joel smiled and waved to an elderly couple as they left, turning to grab some muffins for the table of six for the kids. "He's not being very subtle and I feel like you don't know when someone is into you versus just likes what he sees. So, pay attention to your drink this time and please make or break his heart."

"Whatever you say Joel, whatever you say." The designer finally took her drink back to the table where Alya was already working.

"Sorry girl, I have to edit these and figure out the order by tomorrow. Any good drinks lately?"

"Bunch of water, glad to finally get a taste of my cappuccino again. Can you believe they won't let us have anything but water? Like I get it around the fabric and materials but not even in the break room." Marinette ranted waving her hands slightly until she knocked over her cup. "Oh! Geez I am such a klutz."

"Girl, when are you going to find a good luck charm to counter all that bad luck?"

"You know that's not it!" She hurried to clean up her mess, a barista dropped a rag on the table as they passed by with a tray full of muffins. Carefully she cleaned up her minor spill and waited off her cup only to notice there was a blue smudge on the outside. Taking a closer look, it seems like smeared numbers. A ten digit number. "I think it's good luck disguised as bad luck because I need to be more creative and get out of my own head. I'll be right back!"

"What? Marinette, what the heck?" The reporter watched in concern as her best friend went up to the counter and waved Joel down to ask him a question. Said barista laughed loudly and patted a disappointed Marinette on the head and gave her a refill.

"Someone has been trying to get my attention but since you always buy my drink per our agreement, he can't pay for it so he asks Joel to leave his number on the cup. Which I've been throwing away without noticing. And he won't tell me who it is!"

"Oh? Mysterious admirer vying for your attention using the thing you love the most in this world? Well do go on." The tanner of the duo teased, smiling at the half hearted smack to her arm.

"This just means I need to come here as much as I can and catch him. Or make Joel tell me."

"Marinette?" The new voice caused her to turn around to see Juleka whom she was partnering with for her latest project.

"Hey Juleka, did everything fit okay?"

"Yeah, just like always. I thought your coffee addiction was only an early morning thing?"

"Oh no, this girl could drink twice her weight in coffee and still accept another cup." Alya butted in, laughing as Marinette turned a bright shade of red.

"Why don't you go get us refills, you're not working on your project anyway."

"Fine." The reporter sighed playfully before heading to the counter.

"Sorry, best friends are always crazy."

"No worries… So what's your favorite drink so far?"

"Blueberry cappuccino, haven't really given it a fair try though since I only got a couple loo- sips before I had to leave."

"Uh-huh, a tall blueberry cappuccino huh?" Juleka glanced towards the counter where her brother was ordering, his stupid hat covering his signature hair and shot a quick text to change their order. "Ever going to try again?"

"Maybe? I seem to have attached an admirer, Joel has been writing his number on my coffee cups."

"Yeah he likes to play cupid. Kind of like how he helped me find my strawberry frappe." The dawning look of surprise turned to embarrassment very quickly. "Also, if he doesn't man up and give you his number directly, ask me and I'll straighten him out."

"Okay?" Marinette squeaked out but she was very confused as the up and coming model sashayed to the counter. A tall man moved to let her reach for a couple cups and left him with a stern glare.

"So any idea on how you're going to grill Joel as to who your mystery guy is?" Alya inquired, resting her hip against the table.

"I have no idea. I guess il just wait until my tall blueberry cappuccino shows up again." With a sigh, Marinette began packing up her papers only to be stopped by a cup sitting directly in the middle of her papers. A large drink, the blue swirls and aroma of their dark roast cappuccino tickled her senses.

"Hey so Joel told me I should uh man up so to speak and introduce myself." The designer's gaze followed the cup to the hand holding the cup, up an arm and right into the mystery guy's eyes. Who happened to be her tall cappuccino. "I uh must confess I knew about the whole code thing from the first day and I tried to have Joel help me out by putting my number on your cups but since I never got a text or call, I figured either you weren't interested or hadn't realized."

"Do you know how small he writes? It's impossible to read tiny alien chicken scratch."

"Yeah he did that on purpose. Sorry about that but I'd still like to get to know you, if you're still interested in a certain tall blueberry cappuccino?"

"Cappuccino is my favorite."

"Well Luka is your top favorite then."

"Good, Marinette is yours."

[petri808]

I1+Nalu Only one bed @thegalilea3 request

The wedding of Laxus and Mirajane Dreyar was a cozy affair attended by only close family and friends. Neither had really wanted a lavish event, so a simple morning ceremony and luncheon in a beautiful garden was perfect. The bride and groom instead funneled the majority of their budget into food, drinks, and overnight lodging for the guests at a small nearby hotel. Lucy Heartfilia was happy to see her friend finally married and settled because Mira deserved it.

Though there was one odd thing about the luncheon— assigned seating. With only 21 people including the bride and groom, it seemed unnecessary. Plus, everyone except Lucy and one other person were a couple anyways. Maybe it was to ensure everyone was accounted for, only Mira knew. As it was, it also meant Lucy was sat next to the only other single... Natsu Dragneel. It was a bit weird, but not a big deal. Natsu was her close friend after all.

The day was perfect in every regard. Clear skies, light breeze with warm sunshine, great food, and jovial company. It was a nice reprieve from Lucy’s job in the city. She missed spending time with her friends, especially Natsu and this provided a perfect couple of days to relax in the countryside. They were best friends, her unrequited high school crush until adulthood sent them onto different paths. University, then careers. The pair stayed in touch as often as possible, but both were busy in their endeavors.

“How has it been at the magazine,” Natsu questioned Lucy. “I see you’ve made it to junior editor.”

“Oh,” she laughed, “yeah, but it’s still a glorified title. I’m really just my bosses assistant.”

“It’s still a big step,” he smiled back.

“What about you?”

“They’re sending me to EMT training next month. So, I’ll be a specialized firefighter.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“I guess,” Natsu shrugged, “I prefer the action.”

Lucy chuckled, eyes crinkling in a smile, “same ‘ole Natsu.”

“Hey you two,” Mirajane waved as she walked over. “How is everything?”

“Hi Mira! Everything is perfect, you did a fantastic job planning it.”

“Aww, thanks Lucy.”

“I was surprised that Laxus finally caved.”

Lucy slapped Natsu’s chest for the comment, but if only made Mira laugh.

“I threatened to leave if he didn’t just get this over with. Anyway, the reason I came over is I just received a call from the hotel and it seems they made a mistake in my booking. Instead of 11 rooms, they only booked 10. Unfortunately... they’re also full.”

“So, what does that mean?” Natsu questioned the woman.

“Well, as singles I had booked you guys your own rooms, because the couples have theirs, which means one of you now doesn’t have one.”

“Oh. It’s okay Mira, I can try and find a room elsewhere for the night,” Lucy chimed in. “Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Why don’t we just share it?” Natsu then suggests to Lucy. “When we check in, we’ll just ask for a room with two beds.”

“Are you sure,” both Lucy and Mira questioned at the same time.

“Why not? I mean, I don’t mind.”

“Lucy would you be okay with that?” Mira questioned her friend. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Lucy looked at Natsu, then back to Mira. “I’ll be okay. I mean, he’s not a stranger to me.” She laughed although inside she was a bit nervous about sharing a room with him.

“I won’t bite,” Natsu put his hands up in defense. “I swear.”

“Weirdo!” Lucy laughed.

Mira laughed as well. “Great! I’ll let the hotel know the room will be a double occupancy. You guys enjoy the rest of party. Check in is anytime after 4pm.”

“Thanks Mira. And congratulations again!”

Everything will be fine, Lucy assured herself. It’s just Natsu. She knows Natsu. He’s harmless. Spending one night alone together won’t kill her. Just think of it as more time to catch up. Maybe find out why he’s still single. ‘Stop that!’ Lucy chided her mind. She is not asking him that kind of question! Even though she is curious... more so now after having spent the last 4 hours being reminded of what a great guy he was. All the reason she’d crushed on him, his warmth, oof, his smile...

“Wait what?!” Lucy shrieked at the hotel receptionist. “There’s no rooms with two beds?”

“I’m very sorry ma’am, but we only have a few of those and they’re all taken already.”

“What about a roll-away?”

Again the woman shook her head. “We’re just a small country inn. We don’t have those.”

“Oh... my god...” Lucy breathed out. She’d have to share a bed with Natsu?!

Speaking of the man, at that moment, he gently coaxed Lucy away from the receptionist. “We’ll make it work, don’t worry, she’ll be fine,” he assured the woman. “Just give us the keys and we’ll be on our way.”

Once inside of the hotel room, Lucy surveyed their predicament. It was a king sized bed. Great, at least it provided a decent amount of space between them, and it was a very nice room... a bit too nice compared to a standard hotel room. Strange, but maybe it was the only option left because of the full capacity. Well, guess it wasn’t such a bad thing. She could think of it as a sleepover, like the kind they would have when they were teenagers.

The first thing Lucy did was change out of her formal party attire into something comfortable. When she exited the bathroom, Natsu was lounging on the bed, looking through the pamphlets the hotel left on the nightstand.

“What’re you reading?” She questioned him.

“It’s a pretty small hotel, no services, but they do have a restaurant open for lunch and dinner... oh and a pool.”

Lucy hadn’t brought a swim suit, so the pool was out of the question. “What time is the restaurant open till?”

“Um... 9pm.”

“Good. I’m not hungry yet, but in a couple of hours I will be.”

For the rest of the evening Natsu was weirdly quiet. He talked as needed, but it almost felt to Lucy as if he was trying to avoid something. Or maybe it was all in her head. Maybe Natsu was just as nervous as she was about arraignment and was doing his best not to make it uncomfortable. Their conversations were pleasant enough, catching up on their lives, their families, any new interests they may have developed. They’d become functional members of the community in careers they enjoyed. For all intents and purposes, their lives were normal, happy on the surface.

Around 11pm the pair agreed it was time to get some shut eye. It had been a long and contented day, but tomorrow they’d return to their own lives. They chose their respective sides, turning off the light and settled into bed facing away from each other.

As Lucy lay there, she reflected on how things had turned out and of their day. The thoughts in her mind loud against the silence of the darkened room. It felt weird, knowing Natsu lay less then two feet away. Or maybe it was simply weird sleeping in a bed with another person. It had been a couple years since her last failed relationship, so she wasn’t used to this feeling anymore. She didn’t know how many minutes had passed by when she’d heard Natsu shift in the bed and his voice, soft and hesitant cut through the inky blackness.

“Do you ever think about... us Lucy?”

What does he mean? “Us?” She parroted.

“I do sometimes,” Natsu continued. “I think about, what our lives would be like if I’d grown some balls and asked you out years ago... where would we be today?”

Lucy’s breathing slowed as she processed his words. Had she thought of it? Moisture slowly filled her eyes. Yes— yes she had, many, many times over the years. Every time a relationship failed, she thought about it. But she never blamed him because she was just as guilty for not saying something sooner. Yet here he was posing such a question.

Her eyes closed as she spoke. “What are you trying to say Natsu?” She felt him turn over and shift again, then a hand pulling, coaxing her to face him. Once she’d switched sides, Lucy could see his shadowed face, oozing with regret.

“I’m saying...” Natsu reached out and took her hand. “I wish we were an us. I’m saying I want to lay like this every night next to you, to wake up beside you, come home to you. Im saying... I don’t want this to end.”

Lucy squeezed his hand back. “Idiot!” Tears prickling the corners of her eyes. “Why didn’t you say something sooner!”

“I was afraid! Okay?! I thought you deserved better than me and I’d just hold you back!”

“Better?! It was always better together! All these years I’d been lonely and miserable cause no one could replace you!”

“I’m sorry!!”

A few seconds after the last words are screamed, laughter broke out from the two. Unrefined laughter at their own stupidity. They’d both been pining all these years and it took being stuck in a room together for it all to come crashing out.

“Natsu...” Lucy squeezed his hand again, “I’d really love to be an us too.”

He reached over and caressed her face. “I’ve always loved you Lucy, and I wanna make up for all the years we lost. But I have a confession to make.”

Oh, god what the hell now?! “What are you, actually married? No, divorced? Secret kids?! What?!” Lucy trembled as her euphoria threatened to crash down again.

Natsu scratched the back of his head nervously. “No! Nothing like that. The hotel didn’t make a mistake. Mira and I set this up so I could confess. I’d planned to do it earlier but couldn’t work up the nerve until I realized I was running out of time again...”

“Ohhh! Is that it?!” Lucy’s head lolled as she groaned. “You damn goof! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Im sorry!” He chuckled. “I just didn’t want you to find out later. And don’t blame Mira, it was my idea. I’ll make it all up, I promise. I’ll make you forget about those years of loneliness. I’m gonna make you so happy you—”

Lucy sighed. “Natsu?”

“Huh, yeah?”

“Just shut up and kiss me already.”

[mangolover]

Hey! I'm not sure if you still take requests for your 50 followers event, but if you do, could I get Theo with prompt 25? Thank you! :D

Hey! Thank you for this request. I still do take requests for the event, so feel free to grab one of the last prompts.

Honestly, I really enjoyed writing this because it made me go down a memory lane when I read Theo’s route, stopping Mozart’s route for him. I’m still glad I read him, I really like the whole plot based on revenge. 

Anyways, enough of my rumblings, here is your request I hope you like it! 💖

50 Followers Drabble Event, prompt #25 with Theodorus van Gogh

If you wish to check out the offical “50 Followers Drabble Event”, press here

Title: Creature of The Dark

Prompt:  “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire / Ikevamp / Ikevam

Pairing: Theodorus van Gogh x gn! Reader 

Genre: Angst (kinda fluff at the very end)

Warnings: broken trust, losing job, getting kicked out, poverty, dark thoughts, not eating properly, mentions of death (kinda), swearing, depression(?)

Spoilers: Theo’s route, some facts from Napoleon’s route

Word Count: 1000+

Description: He broke yet another promise and you cut ties with the whole mansion, trying to live on your own in city. Losing your job and getting kicked out, you didn’t know where else to go but to the art gallery.

This has some first person perspective, but it’s mostly 2nd perspective. I was trying something new, hope you all like it!

Neither of the themes above are explored in great detail, but still proceed with caution.

I am tempted to write a part 2 to this.

Enjoy!

Creature of The Dark

“Promise me you won’t try to handle things on your own anymore”

“Alright. I promise.”

‘Hmm.

I really should’ve stuck a needle in your eye the day you broke that promise. You promised it Theo, and yet when the first obstacle arrived in our view, you chose to try and handle it on your own. I guess old habits die hard. Or I was just always meant to be your shadow, only there when there was light.’

But you were always a creature of the dark.

You tried to make living, barely making it by each month you had to pay rent. But this month, today, you lost your job. Not even having money to buy yourself ingredients to make meals for tomorrow onwards, you sat down on the bare, hard, wooden floor and let your mind wander.

Leaving the mansion and cutting ties with everyone at the mansion seemed like a good idea back then. After all, the residents learned of your and Theo’s fight in the morning if they didn’t wake up from your raised voices.

You accused him of breaking his promise. He accused you of not having any trust in him. At first his words hurt. They still sting, like a needle in your heart, 4 months later. But in retrospective, he is right. You don’t have any trust in him. He broke one promise before that and still made no effort to try and show he is worthy of your trust.

Your stomach made a rumbling noise and you put your hands around your frame, knees cradling your head. Maybe you should’ve accepted Comte’s help. Or at least leave one bridge unburnt. But spite and hurt are intense emotions and now you can finally see that everyone’s actions have consequences.

Tomorrow morning, your fairytale of living on your own in 19th century France, was going to meet the cold and harsh reality. The winter was settling, preventing you from sleeping outside.

Should you go to Shakespeare? He’s Vincent’s friend, and Vincent was almost like a family. But what if you see Vincent there? How will you explain yourself to any of them? They are not stupid. No. Shakespeare is not an option.

Letting out a groan, you ran a hand through your hair, messing it up completely. Tears ruined your face even further and the weight of everything has finally settled on your shoulders, threatening to break you.

‘You didn’t have a job. You didn’t have money. You didn’t have family. You didn’t have friends. You were alone. You are alone. You pushed everyone away! You have nothing, you are nothing! You even lost your purpose as Theo’s shadow, thinking you deserve better things? Pfft, don’t be so pathetic Y/n. Don’t you have any pride left? Are you seriously going to give up now?’

‘Or have I given up a long time ago?’

Whole night you tried to fall asleep, but you knew that it wouldn’t be your sweet escape from reality. This is deemed to be a dreamless night. But better that than a nightmare.

The next day you gathered your belongings and started wandering through town. There was nothing better you could do either way. The door back to “present” wouldn’t open for at least a week, full moon not yet arriving and sparing you the agony.

You would be lying if you said you hoped to not run into any of the 11 residents. Sebastian could be going shopping today. Napoleon and Isaac could be going to teach kids. Anyone could be out, even Theo taking care of things on his own. And yet, fate didn’t bring you to any of them.

Defeated, you sat on the fountain ledge and placed your head in your hands, letting out a long sigh. You were out of options. You can’t just waltz back into the mansion. You can’t just come and go whenever there was something you didn’t like.

Something wet hit your knee and you peeled your face from its sanctuary of your palms, your eyes a bit wider than usual. You weren’t crying, right? You placed your fingers under your eye just as another droplet hit the tip of your nose. You looked up to see thick, dark clouds above your head.

‘Damn it!’ you cursed in your head. You need to find a shelter, so you made your way under some eaves. Maybe it will just be a quick rain. But the downpour that started just moments later crushed any hope you had left. Even if you had roof over your head, you were drenched and furious.

You are going to freeze to death here. The night was not going to wait for someone to save you, you need to do it yourself. You saw a carriage approaching and you waved at the driver, thankful when he stopped. You made your way in and told him the address you still knew by heart.

After a short ride and your last money leaving your pocket, you found yourself standing in front of an art gallery. Your last resort. Making your way to the front door. You pushed them slowly open.

“Welcome, feel free to have a look…” his words faltered when he saw you. You were soaked and shaking, clearly freezing. Your hair and clothes were a mess, your gaze cast down to the floor. “Y/n…”

“I didn’t know where else to go” your voice was quiet, like it would break at any second. “I’m sorry…” like you would break at any second.

So many memories and emotions flashed through both of you. Yet neither of you had the courage to make the first move, to speak first.

“I-I can leave if I am bothering!” you stuttered, fearing the ocean blue eyes of the vampire you once called your lover.

“No, stay” you weren’t even sure you heard him right. “We can talk in the morning if you want?”

Four months have passed without a single word spoken between you two. But you both still felt attached to each other.

“That would be nice” a small smile on both of your faces. “Thank you, Theo.”

“Anytime Hondje” your heart sung as he used his old nickname for you.

And with that, you made your way to the upstairs of the gallery where there was a couch you could get some rest on.

[inkjam-moon]

Code of Silence Ch 6 - The Set Up (M)

Genre: Mafia AU, light fluff, smut

Member: Min Yoongi

Word Count: 6.4K

TW: swearing, mafia talk, hospital talk, blood mention, sex talk, blowjob mention, shooting, death mention, stitches mention, tiny argument, riding, fingering, breast play, accidental creampie

.

.

“Yoongi cut it out.” You giggle as Yoongi’s lips ravage your neck, his hands sliding all along your body until they land on your ass, squeezing it roughly. He’s had you pinned against the door to his office for the last five minutes, his hips pressing against you so you can feel just how hard he is, the feeling driving you insane with want.

“You still haven’t answered me.” He growls. “Where were you this morning? I rolled over to say good morning only to find the bed empty.” He lightly nips at your collarbone.

“I told you.” You gasp. “I had to help Taehyung and his mom this morning.”

“Is Taehyung so important you couldn’t say goodbye?” He whines.

“It’s the first full night of sleep you’ve gotten in a week.” You chide, pushing on his chest to stop him for a moment. “So yes. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Next time wake me.” He pouts. “I don’t need sleep.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yes you do. Otherwise you get grumpy.”

“Grumpy?” He scoffs. “What am I? Five?”

“Why do you think we haven’t had sex all week?” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Now who’s grumpy?”

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can say anything, there’s a knock on the door that you’re pressed against.

“What is it?” Yoongi barks, clearly upset at being interrupted.

“Boss? Um, we’ve got some intel that a couple boys from Busan are at the south docks. Do you want us to send someone out?”

“Shit…” Yoongi sighs, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “How many?”

“Just two or three.” You can tell from the voice now that it’s Namjoon.

“Alright. Get five ready, I’ll be out in a second.”

“Got it.” Namjoon states before you hear his footsteps disappearing.

“Sorry baby.” Yoongi presses a kiss to your shoulder. “This is going to have to wait a bit.”

“Yoongi,” You grab him by the lapels of his jacket as he turns to leave, stopping him. “Be careful.”

He smiles and cups your cheek. “It’s just a check. I’ll be home before dinner, alright?” You nod and let him go, watching as he goes over to his desk and grabs his gun, hiding it in the holster under his jacket before walking back over to you and placing a kiss on your lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon.” You nod. Stepping out of the way and watching Yoongi walk out the door and down the hallway, disappearing down the stairs. Soon. It’s his promise, it has been in the month since you started sleeping together.

Since you and Yoongi are closer than ever, you can’t help but worry every time he goes out on patrols or checks; with Busan encroaching farther into Daegu territory, it gets more and more dangerous every time he goes out. You don’t like saying goodbye when he leaves; there’s too much finality to the word; so he started promising to ‘see you soon’, letting you gain comfort in the thought that he promises to return to you, safe and sound.

You sigh as you lean against the door frame before heading over to Yoongi’s desk and grabbing your bag off his chair where he threw it as soon as you walked in the door. You can’t lie, the lack of intimacy in the last week or so has gotten to you too; having become accustomed to sleeping with Yoongi three or four times a week minimum, the lengthy absence is driving you mad with an unquenchable thirst, an overwhelming desire to be touched, but because Busan is trying harder to creep in, Yoongi is out more, sleeping less, and hardly around the house or his office. You miss him. 

You close the door to Yoongi’s office behind you and lock it as a familiar face pops it’s head around the corner of the stairs. 

“Y/N! Just who I was looking for.”

“Tae, you saw me this morning.” You remind him as you walk toward him. 

“I know.” He nods. “But I have news I didn’t have this morning.”

“You can tell me on the way to the car. I have to get home and start dinner.”

Taehyung sighs. “Doll, you know he’s probably not going to be home in time. I just saw them all leave, seemed pretty serious.”

You shake your head as you reach the bottom of the stairs and head over to the bar, checking sales as Taehyung comes up behind you. “He promised me it was just a check.”

“So were the last three…” Taehyung reminds you, making your heart sink in your chest.

“Taehyung.” You growl, alerting him to stop before he pisses you off. You hate to admit it, but he’s right. It always turns into something bigger, more urgent.

“Alright alright fine. This isn’t about you anyway, it’s about me.” He huffs crossing his arms as you say goodnight to the staff and make your way through the kitchen and out the back door. 

“What is it Tae?”

“I’d like to formally invite you and Yoongi out to dinner tomorrow night.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Did I forget something? It’s not December, so it can’t be your birthday.” Taehyung shakes his head, a wide grin scrunching up his face. He looks like he’s about to burst. “Do I have to guess?”

“I want you guys to meet my new boyfriend!” Taehyung squeals.

“New- Oh my god!” You squeak, clapping your hands in excitement. “What the fuck, why didn’t you tell me this morning?” You ask, smacking him on the arm. 

“I wanted to make sure it was okay with him! We’ve only been together for a month or so, but I asked him this afternoon if it was okay to tell you and he said he wanted to meet you!”

“Aw Tae!” You grab him and pull him into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you. Of course we’ll have dinner with you. Why don’t the two of you come over to our place?” You pull back and see Taehyung’s eyes sparkling. You haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.

“You’re the best doll. Wanna say… Seven?”

“Seven sounds perfect.” You smile back at him.

“Alright, um… Do you want some company tonight?” Taehyung asks, worry written on his face as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile at him. “Why not? The least you can do is distract me.” You state, unlocking the car. “Hop in.”

Taehyung grins widely as you both jump into your car before you pull out of the parking lot and out onto the street making the drive back to your apartment. When you arrive, you shut the car off and you both get out, making your way up the walk, into the building, and up to your apartment. 

“I’m going to go change, do you want to see what we have in the fridge?” You ask, walking over to Yoongi’s room.

“I’m on it!” Taehyung cheers as you disappear into the room.

You change into a pair of shorts and one of Yoongi’s old sweatshirts that he never wears anymore. You don’t think you’ve seen him wear comfy clothes since you got married, just a lot of stuffy suits and dress clothes. You remember when you first met; all he wore were sweatshirts and jeans. You shrug as you grab a hair tie and pull your hair into a messy bun as you walk back out to the kitchen, seeing Taehyung has already turned on the stove and is chopping something on a cutting board. You decide to voice your observation to Taehyung as you flick on the tv for background noise.

“Do you ever notice that Yoongi never wears anything except suits and dress clothes?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen him in less.” Taehyung smirks.

You smack his arm as you walk up to him and lean against the counter next to him. “I’m serious. I don’t think I ever see him in just a t-shirt and jeans anymore. Honestly, I don’t even know if he still owns jeans…”

“Of course he’s always dressed up.” Taehyung laughs, handing you the knife in his hand. “Here, chop.” You move to stand where Taehyung was and start slicing up vegetables for him as he continues, moving to heat up a pan on the stove and turning on the rice cooker. “Think of his job doll. Do you think people would take him seriously in a t-shirt and jeans? Your dad taught him better than that. It comes with the title.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You ponder the thought for a few moments as you continue chopping before changing the subject. “So, tell me about this boyfriend.”

“You’re going to meet him tomorrow.” Taehyung grins, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“Excuse me. I need to know details!” You exclaim, grabbing the pork belly and laying it in the hot pan with a bit of oil. “Where did you meet?”

“Uncle Min’s party actually.”

“Really? Do I know him?”

“I don’t think so. He’s not in the family, I think he just happened to be there that night.”

You nod as you listen, adding the vegetables to their own pan. “So what’s his name?”

“Jimin. Park Jimin.” Even though your back is toward Taehyung, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“And do I get to see a picture of the mysterious Jimin?”

“Mm.” Taehyung searches his pockets for his phone, pulling it out once he locates it, and scrolls through his photos until he finds the one he’s looking for. He holds it up for you to see and you smile. It’s a picture of Taehyung with his eyes closed, his nose pressed against the cheek of an attractive boy with plump lips and an adorable eye smile.

“Aw, Tae you look so happy. He’s cute too.”

“Isn’t he?”

“So tell me more about him.”

“Um… He’s a few months older than me, but he’s a lot shorter. He likes to dance and is part of some contemporary group thing. His laugh sounds like an angel’s, he’s got deliciously thick thighs, ugh…” He trails off, taking the food off the stove and placing it on the plates you took out.

“And since I know you’d ask me this, what’s he got between those thick thighs?” You tease.

“Oh come on doll, it’s not like that.” He giggles.

“Don’t lie to me in my own house Tae.”

“Well,” He blushes harder. “We haven’t gone all the way yet, but let’s just say it’s a monster and I’m glad he’s a bottom.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Thick thighs don’t lie.”

“I’m telling you, this thing is huge. I could barely get my mouth around it.”

“And that’s an image I definitely didn’t need.” You smack Taehyung’s chest, grabbing the plates and setting them on the table before walking over to the fridge to grab drinks. As you grab a bottle of wine, you hear the newswoman say ‘breaking news’ and can’t help but tune your ears to listen.

“Shots fired at the southern docks, leaving three dead.”

The bottle falls from your hand and crashes to the floor, shattering to pieces as you walk over to the tv and turn it up.

“Police are currently investigating a shooting at Daegu’s southern docks that happened only moments ago. Our field reporter Woo Chisun is on the scene. Chisun?”

The video cuts to the on scene reporter as you feel Taehyung kneel down next to you and wrap his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight.

“Thank you Hae Im. Police responded to a civilian 911 call stating that they heard shots fired at the southern docks. Witnesses say they heard a loud argument before at least ten shots were fired in quick succession, followed by the sound of tires squealing. Though the deceased have not yet been identified, we do know that there are at least three victims, and several blood trails that suggest one or more of the assailants may be wounded. With no leads on any suspects, we can’t help but wonder; will Daegu sleep safely tonight?”

.

Yoongi steps out of the car and pulls out his gun to check the rounds in his magazine before clicking it back into place. "So how many are supposed to be here?" He asks.

"Just three, boss."

"Alright." Yoongi stops and turns to face the group. "Joon, Big Kim, I want you on the left. Ji Ho, Dad, on the right. Jin, you're with me. Let's get some eyes on them, see what they're up to first. Then we'll go in and get them off of our turf."

"Hell yeah."

"Let's do it."

The rest of the men voice their agreement. "Alright. Remember, keep it quiet, keep it low, you know the signal. Let's go."

They split up and head down separately through the maze of cargo containers, Jin following closely behind Yoongi as they sneak along the path, ducking around corners to check for intruders. They finally make it up to the marina, not having seen anyone else so far. Yoongi turns to Jin, but before he can signal to him, he hears a sudden commotion and then the sound of gunshots.

"Yoongi!"

That sounded like Namjoon. Shit. Yoongi turns the corner to investigate and sees the cause, a piece of shit with a gun, aiming to his right where Namjoon and Big Kim are located.

"These mother fuckers." Yoongi grunts, aiming his sights, and then pulling the trigger, quickly incapacitating the Busan gunner, but mere seconds after Yoongi pulls the trigger he feels an unbearable pain in his side. "Ah, fuck!" Yoongi clutches his abdomen as he leans against the cargo container.

"Boss!" Seokjin yells, immediately taking out the gunner on top of the container that shot Yoongi. "Shit, hang in there Yoongi." He crouches down beside Yoongi. "We've got one out of the nest!" Seokjin yells to no one in particular. There are a few more gunshots before everything goes quiet.

"Seokjin?" Someone calls.

"Over here!" Seokjin responds. It's a few seconds before Min rounds the corner.

"Shit. Yoongi." Min crouches down beside his son. "We've gotta get out of here, this place will be crawling with cops in a few minutes. where were you hit?" He turns to Yoongi.

Yoongi reveals his bloody abdomen, wincing. "H-here."

"That looks bad." Namjoon states, leaning over his brother's shoulder.

"Namjoon, call the hospital; Seokjin, get the car; Kim, help me get him."

Big Kim and Min both scoop up Yoongi, but as they get him to his feet , Yoongi collapses.

"Yoongi!"

.

“Y/N, breathe.” You let out the shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding as tears fall from your eyes. “Let me call and see what’s going on. Stay here.”

You can’t move, you can hardly force your lungs to keep breathing. Your mind is blank and whirring with static until it lands on one singular thought: Yoongi. You lunge for the coffee table where you left your phone earlier and immediately press his name. It rings. It rings forever until you get his answering machine. You hang up and try again, and again, and again to no avail. You don’t realize it but you’re quietly chanting Yoongi’s name, over and over to yourself as you try to reach him.

“Shit…” You hear Taehyung next to you. “I… I can’t get a hold of anyone.”

“Yoongi… Yoongi… Yoongi… Yoongi…” You mumble to yourself, dialing and redialing his number, getting his voicemail every time until Taehyung squats next to you and grabs your shoulders.

“Doll, look at me.” You ignore him, trying to grab your phone which he knocked out of your hand. “Y/N… Y/N!” Taehyung snaps, shaking you.

“I can’t- I can’t go through this again Tae. I can’t do this again. I can’t lose him too. I can’t… I can’t lose him!!” You burst, tears now flooding your vision as Taehyung pulls you flush against his chest. 

“It’s not him. It’s not, it can’t be. He’s okay Y/N-ah, he’s going to be okay. I promise.”

“I can’t lose him too…” You whimper, hyperventilating as Taehyung holds you close. The two of you stay like this for what feels like mere seconds, but it’s been an hour, and you still haven’t heard anything, not even from the tv. You cry into Taehyung’s chest as he shushes and attempts to soothe you until you hear a buzzing. Taehyung’s phone. He grabs it off the couch and answers it.

“Hello? Yeah I’m with her… Got it. We’ll be there in ten.” He hangs up and stands, lifting you to your feet and you wince, falling back on the couch, looking down at your feet to see them all cut up and bloodied from the shattered wine bottle. Taehyung shoves his phone in his pocket and then lifts you up bridal style, grabbing your keys and then carrying you out the door and down to your car. He places you in the passenger seat before shutting the door and then climbing into the driver’s seat, quickly pulling out of the parking lot and speeding towards the center of town.

You want to ask what’s going on, but you can’t speak. You can only sniffle. Taehyung wouldn’t answer anyway, he’s too focused on driving, and in a matter of minutes you arrive at your destination. The hospital.

He parks around back, getting out and picking you back up, carrying you in the ambulance entrance where Big Kim is waiting for you.

“Is she okay?” He asks when he sees you’re being carried. 

“She’s got glass in her feet and she’s pretty shaken. She might be in shock. Where is he?”

“Come with me.” Big Kim takes you out of Taehyung’s arms and carries you over to a back elevator with Taehyung close behind. You all get in and it takes you up to the third floor where he walks you down a long empty hallway to the back wing of the hospital where all of the private rooms are located. He brings you into room 337, the same room where your father died, and you see Yoongi lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, covered in bruises and bandages. “He just got out of surgery.” Big Kim states, placing you in the chair next to Yoongi’s bed. 

“What happened?” You ask, scooting as close as you can to Yoongi and grabbing hold of his hand.

“Busan.” Uncle Min’s voice comes into the room. “We were ambushed at the docks. It was all a set up.” He walks over to you and puts a hand on your shoulder as he squats down in front of you. “Breathe joka, he’s going to be okay.” He nods, looking over at Big Kim he adds, “Go find a nurse for me,” before turning back to you. “Yoongi took a bad hit, because something blew his cover, but it missed all of his major organs and muscles, he’s going to make a full recovery.” A weight seems to lift off your shoulders at Min’s words. “And except for Yoongi, no one got hit.”

Just then, a familiar face walks into the room, it’s Hye Soo. “Y/N, I was wondering when you’d get here.” She greets you warmly.

“Hye Soo, I think our girl here might be in shock, and her feet are cut up pretty badly, would you mind taking a look?” Min asks.

“Of course.” Hye Soo grabs some supplies from the cabinet in the room before walking over to you. She does a basic check on you; blood pressure, pulse, oxygen level; before putting an IV in your arm and hooking you up to a bag of fluids as well as injecting a relaxant into your IV before moving onto your feet; cleaning them, removing the glass shards, and then bandaging them. She talks to Min the entire time, knowing that the only thing you’re focused on right now is Yoongi.

He’s so still, so calm, he’s never this motionless in his sleep, so they must have him on some heavy sedatives. You bring his hand up to your mouth and close your eyes, placing a kiss against his fingers. After a few minutes you and Hye Soo are the only ones left in the room as she finishes bandaging you up. 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. Why does everyone close to me always get hurt…?” You whisper against Yoongi's hand. 

“Don’t blame yourself.” Hye Soo states as she stands. “Yoongi chose this life. He knew what was at stake. He knows the risks and he’s willing to take them. It’s not your fault. Besides, he’ll be up soon. It’s mostly artificial.” You only nod to show you heard her before she pats you on the head and leaves you alone with Yoongi.

You know that. You know he’s going to wake up. You understand what she’s trying to say, but the more you sit here, the more you realize that Taehyung and Yoongi are the only things in the world that you have left; and to see either one of them hurt, artificial or not, shatters you into pieces.

Silent tears slip down your cheeks as you clutch Yoongi’s hand between both of yours, your forehead pressed against your hands as you mumble to him. “I never wanted you to get hurt… I’m so sorry… It should be me…”

“Y... Y/N…” Yoongi mumbles, causing your head to bolt upright. “Y/N-ah…?” His eyes flutter open and slowly focus on you.

“Yoongi…” You gasp, elated beyond words at the sight of his beautiful brown eyes staring back at you. 

The corners of his mouth turn up in the smallest smile as he sighs deeply. “Did I miss dinner?”

A choked laugh comes from your throat as you release his hand and wipe your tears away. “Just by a few hours.”

“Damn. I was really looking forward to it too.” He grimaces as he attempts to sit up, but it’s obviously too painful for him. 

“Yoongi-”

“I’m alright.” He states, laying back down against the pillows before he reaches out to take hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Why the tears?” He asks, concern in his eyes.

You reach your unoccupied hand up to your cheeks to feel the wetness of tears on your cheeks again. You hadn’t even realized you were doing it. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” You mumble, wiping the tears away.

“I’m not going anywhere jagiya.” Yoongi whispers. Your heart races at the pet name and you’re thankful Yoongi’s eyes are shut again so he can’t see the hot blush on your cheeks. “They’re going to have to try harder than that.” He smirks.

.

Three days later, Yoongi is allowed to return home on the condition that he takes the rest of the week off to rest and heal and Yoongi agreed; although, you believe he would’ve said anything to get out of the hospital.

You and Taehyung help Yoongi up to the apartment before Taehyung says goodnight to go on a date with Jimin. You wave goodbye and shut the door, helping Yoongi over to the couch to get him settled before walking over to the kitchen to get his medications sorted out for the next few days. Yoongi’s father agreed to watch over things until Yoongi gets back on his feet, so the two of you can relax for a few days until Yoongi gets restless, which you know he will; he can’t stay away from work for too long.

“Y/N-ah?” Yoongi calls to you, interrupting your thoughts.

“Hm?” You turn to face him to see him watching you intently.

“Can you help me up so I can take a shower? I need to wash off this hospital funk.”

“O-oh, sure.” You nod, putting down the last bottle of medicine before walking over to him and helping him to his feet. He can walk on his own well enough, it’s the getting up and sitting down part that he’s not great at because it still hurts his abdomen. With one arm around his waist, you walk him into his room and then into the bathroom and start the shower, turning to see him standing there a bit awkwardly.

“Would you um…” His cheeks turn pink as he speaks. “Can you- I still can’t lift my arms well… Would you mind?” He tugs at his clothes.

“Right, of course.” You giggle as you walk over to him, wondering why he’s suddenly so shy. You very carefully lift Yoongi’s shirt up off his body and deposit it on the floor, but when you go to reach for his belt, you stop, coming face to face with the sight of his injury for the first time.

You can’t help but stare; the way his beautiful pale skin is puckered and pink around the stitches, still tender by the way his abdomen flexes as you brush your thumb against his hip, not even touching the wound.

“It’s hideous.” Yoongi states, catching sight of himself in the mirror and walking closer to inspect.

You shake your head, walking up behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s you.” He smiles at your words in the reflection and the two of you stand like that for a moment before you shake your head again. “Come on, you’re wasting hot water.” You scold as he turns to face you. You grab his belt again and move to undo it when he stops your hands, grabbing your face and pulling you towards him for a soft kiss. 

“I think I can take it from here.” He mumbles against your lips, making you giggle. 

“Right, I forgot. ‘No unnecessary exercise’.” You quote the doctor’s words. “I’ll go start dinner. Yell if you need me, yeah?”

“Of course.” Yoongi kisses you once more before letting you go, watching you walk out of the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Yoongi’s doctor tried very politely to tell you no sex until Yoongi was better, but didn’t want to say it in front of Yoongi’s mother, so he just said ‘no unnecessary exercise’ and then winked as if your mother-in-law was clueless.

You head back to the kitchen and take one of your own prescribed pain medications for your feet; while the scrapes have mostly healed, they’re still a bit tender to walk on; and then you start dinner. You don’t make anything special, just some jjapaguri with steak; you’re honestly too tired to do anything else. Even though you haven’t been doing much at the hospital, just being there has taken so much energy out of you.

Just as you’re filling two bowls up with the delicious noodles and meat, you hear footsteps coming out of Yoongi’s room. Perfect timing. You grab the bowls and some chopsticks and meet Yoongi in front of the couch, placing the bowls on the coffee table before helping him sit down. He nods gratefully as he accepts the help and then the warm dinner you hold out to him before you grab your own bowl and take your normal seat on the other side of the loveseat. You flick the tv on and the two of you sit in silence as you watch reruns of an old game show.

As you slurp up your dinner, you can’t help but feel an awkwardness in the air. Since sex is off the table, it’s as though the two of you are back to square one; two strangers stuck in an arranged marriage, neither one knowing how to act around the other. You thought you were making progress with Yoongi, but maybe you really weren’t? Was sex actually making it harder for you to get closer to him? Have you even had an actual conversation since the two of you started fucking? Is sex all he wanted? Was that the whole reason he tried to get close to you? Maybe he actually cares… Are you overthinking it?

You don’t realize how far you’ve zoned out until Yoongi gently squeezes your arm, snapping you back to the present.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Y-yeah.” You nod, shrugging him off. “Just… thinking about some stuff.”

Yoongi seems concerned, but he doesn’t press the matter. “I’m here if you want to talk.” He assures you. You nod and go back to your noodles. 

When you’re both finished eating, you take your dishes to the kitchen and clean up after yourself before heading back over to the couch. Yoongi pats the cushion closest to him and you can’t help but smile, taking a seat on his good side as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. After a few moments you hear him inhale deeply and look up to see what he’s doing.

“You smell good.” He shrugs. 

“Thanks? I showered this morning.”

“I missed the way you smell. Smells so much better than hospital.”

“Most things smell better than the hospital." You giggle when he inhales again.

"Just let me enjoy this please?" He asks. You simply nod as Yoongi buries his nose in your hair, smiling against you as he does.

.

It's been four days since Yoongi came home from the hospital, and just as you expected, he's as restless as ever. He's constantly pacing around the apartment on the phone with various people from work who all tell him the same thing: "Get some rest boss". The only person who updates him is his father, and even Min is tired of Yoongi's phone calls , frequently ending them with "Go relax" even though he knows Yoongi will call him again in an hour.

The last time Yoongi called him, he only said "Go spend time with your wife" before immediately hanging up. So here you are, trying to watch a movie while tension radiates off Yoongi in waves. You've tried everything to calm him down; board games, video games, movies, relaxing baths, cooking , baking; but so far, nothing has worked. He's just so unbelievably wound up and you feel like there's nothing you can do.

You sigh as you get up , walking over to the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Yoongi, do you want anything?" You ask as you hold the fridge door open.

"I want to go back to work."

"I meant to drink." You grumble.

"No."

You shut the door, albeit, a bit aggressively, before walking back over to the couch and flopping yourself down on it. "So how much longer are you going to be an asshole? Because I can just leave if you want."

Yoongi sighs this time, grabbing your arm. "Don't go. I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm so frustrated."

"No kidding." You scoff, unintentionally reverting Yoongi back into irritated silence. You turn to face him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I should be in Busan right now, fucking up those pricks for what they did!"

"So you can get shot again? I don't think so."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Let it go?"

"No." You shake your head. "You make a plan. Before you go in there guns blazing and make a mistake. You need a plan."

"A plan..." Yoongi ponders this.

You nod. "They set you up, so you figure out how to give it right back to them. Like you always do."

"What do you suggest?" Yoongi inquires.

You think for a moment. "How about a seizure?" Yoongi's eyebrows quirk up in obvious interest, asking you to continue. "We know drugs are their main export, so we get in there and we either take it and dump it, or we make it unusable. I remember abeoji talking about when he did it once. It pissed them off, but they were quiet for a long time so they could rebuild their stock and pay off their debts."

"Y/N-ah... You're a genius." Yoongi smiles for the first time in days. "But how do we get information?" He rubs his chin in thought.

"We send someone in."

Yoongi's eyes snap back up to meet yours. "What?" He asks in disbelief.

"We have to infiltrate, to get someone in there to give us information. It's the only way."

"Unfortunately, I think you're right." Yoongi agrees. "I'll make some calls-"

"Ah!" You push Yoongi back against the couch when he tries to get up. "You go back to work in two days. It can wait." You chide.

"Y/N, I-"

"No." You shake your head. "Just think about it for now. Get it figured out in your head first, then you can start organizing it when you get to work Tuesday."

Yoongi smirks. "You know you're just like him."

Yoongi's comment catches you off guard. "W-What?"

"Especially when you're scolding me. You have the same tone." He chuckles softly, squeezing your side as he scoots closer and puts his arm around your waist. "I'm sorry for being unbearable this week." He mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Unbearable is putting it lightly." You tease.

"Mm." Another kiss. "And yet you kept me around."

"I couldn't just throw you out. You're injured. Which reminds me, if you ever get shot again? I'll shoot you."

Yoongi sighs with a soft laugh as he rests his forehead against your temple. "What I wouldn't give to be able to actually move again."

"You don't need to move, you've been pushing it as is." You scold once more. Suddenly Yoongi tilts your face toward him and this time, places a kiss on your lips, making you giggle. "What was that?"

"Every time you scold me I'm going to kiss you to make you stop."

"Oh is that so?" You ask. He nods. "Well it's true, you need to re-" A kiss. "It's the doctor's orders-" Another. "At least until you get your stitches-" One more, except this time his lips don't leave you, they stay pressed against yours.

It isn't long after that he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. After a few more moments, his tongue flicks out against your lips, but you hesitate. 

“Yoongi, your doctor said-“

“I don’t care.” His lips find yours again and this time you give in.

Having not done anything for two weeks makes you feel a bit more desperate than usual, and you quickly become a bit aggressive, pushing back at his tongue with your own as you lace your hands in his hair and tug on it.

"Ah~" He whimpers. "Not so hard." He smirks at you before leaning forward a bit to place a hot kiss against your jaw.

"Mm. My bad." You tug softer this time.

"Did someone miss me?" He growls in your ear.

"You have no idea."

Yoongi chuckles at this before he pushes you back and tries to climb on top of you, but then he hisses in pain. "Aish..."

"Are you alright?"

Yoongi grimaces as he leans back against the couch. "Yeah, I'm okay." He sighs. "Just didn't think it would hurt that much. I guess..." Another sigh. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't think-"

"Oh no, hold that thought." You stop him before he can turn you down and climb into his lap. He stares up at you in awe as his hands find your hips and then reach down to squeeze your ass.

"This could work. You look good like this baby." He grabs your shirt and pulls it off over your head to reveal that you went without a bra today. "Even better. Goddamn you are sexy."

"Thanks, but if you don't fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I'm gonna be sexy and angry." You state, pulling his sweatpants down his hips.

"Anything for you jagiya." He unties the string on your shorts and as you stand up he tugs them and your underwear off before slipping out of his own boxers and then tugging you back into his lap where he immediately slips two fingers inside you.

"Ah, Yoongi~" You gasp, gripping his shoulders.

"Gotta get you ready for me baby. It's been a while."

"Yoongi please just fuck me I can't wait any longer."

Yoongi grabs your thighs and pulls you close before rubbing his length against your entrance. "Whenever you're ready." He presses against you and you quickly sink down on to him with a satisfied groan.

"Fuck, hnng Yoongi." You dig your fingernails into his shoulders.

"Jesus you're tight." He hisses through his teeth.

Even though it's still a bit much, you start moving, desperate for the feeling of him moving inside you. He feels amazing, so amazing. You throw your head back, already lost in the pleasure between your thighs.

"God you're beautiful." Yoongi mumbles, running his hand up your side.

"Y-Yoongi..." You blush as his hands move to your breasts, squeezing them enough to make you even needier. You bounce faster in his lap, but even though you've always been confident in yourself, his comment makes you want to cover yourself up, but makes your core tighten around him at the same time.

"So fucking beautiful." Yoongi smacks your ass. You move your arms to try and cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. "Don't you dare cover yourself." He growls, moving your arms out of the way. "I want to see all of you like this."

Yoongi holds your wrists as he watches you fuck yourself on his length, mesmerized by the sight. The look in his eyes makes you feel hot, and it isn't long before you feel your high approaching.

"You've never looked this sexy baby."

"Yoongi I-I..."

"Fuck I'm so close." Yoongi moans. "Go harder for me." He commands. You obey, smacking your hips against him harder as he lets go of one of yours wrists and brings his hand down to play with your clit. "So fucking beautiful jagi , I love you."

"Ah~!" Your orgasm slams into you as your hips falter, your hands gripping Yoongi's shoulders again as pleasure shoots through your nerves. The tightening caused by your orgasm sends Yoongi into his own high , not giving him time to pull out before he fills you with his hot release.

The two of you sit for a long time, trying to catch your breath as your highs recede. You sit up, peeling your sweaty, sticky chest off of Yoongi's as both of you shiver from the overstimulation it causes. As your brain regains cognizant function once more, you realize something.

"Wait, what did you say?"

Copyright © Inkjam-Moon 2019

[miracle-sham]

In the Atelier's Glow the Pupa Phoebus will Eclose.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 2, Day 10: Light} |

Chapter 2 of Sheltered by Darkness not yet Moths to the Flame.

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] | | [Chapter 1] |

———

| Even when everything you know splits. When it splinters and shifts, like a chrysalis or a damaged cable. And you're left unfurling your wings, unable to yet fly—circuit broken, fuse melted—grounded, earthed. |

| The rest of the world keeps the current flowing through the wires of everyone else's circuit wings, and they're able to keep fluttering, unfettered by your frayed and exposed wires, even despite the threat you pose to their safety. Too blinded by the luminescence of those with power. |

| Word Count: 7,220. |

| Warnings/Tags: Cyberpunk/Criminal/Gang Au, Explicit Language/Swearing, Hacking, Breaking and Entering, Mentions of Guns, Gun Violence, Mentions of corrupt/shady businesses, Gabriel Agreste's A+ Parenting, Brainwashing, Implied Brainwashing & Torture, Injury, Threats of Violence & Violence, Akumatised!Marinette, Fluff & Angst, Hurt with some Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Gang/Team as family/family dynamics, Found Family. |

———

| A/N: First things first, make sure you've read the first chap before reading this. Second things second, this chapter is a chapter and half. And it's the final chapter! I hope this being 7k more than makes up for it being a day late to posting! I put a lot of love and time and effort into this, so I really hope you all enjoy. And for peak atmosphere, listen to Wonder World by Inova (first song on the playlist) during the first two parts, for optimum atmosphere! Not necessary if you'd prefer not to of course, but still. There's also a ton of light and butterfly symbolism stuffed in this, so try and see how much you can spot! |

| On a sidenote, this fic is dedicated to my friend Saf who listened to me ramble about this fic, and in turn rambled to me whenever I gave her sneak peak snippets. This wouldn't have ended up half as good as it did without her support! Also thanks to Weird for the support, compliments, reaction to the snippets, and kind words as well! And finally, thanks to everyone on the discord who was supportive and kind whenever I rambled in my author's channel! <3 |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

Even when everything you know splits. When it splinters and shifts, like a chrysalis or a damaged cable. And you're left unfurling your wings, unable to yet fly—circuit broken, fuse melted—grounded, earthed.

The rest of the world keeps the current flowing through the wires of everyone else's circuit wings, and they're able to keep fluttering, unfettered by your frayed and exposed wires, even despite the threat you pose to their safety. Too blinded by the luminescence of those with power.

Broken wires cause lights to flicker and dim. They don't glow as brightly as they could—as they should. They crackle and buzz and burn and scorch and smoke, causing only destruction; when light should only be used for creation.

That's why the Atelier Agreste specialise in fixing broken wings and wires. The brightness of tomorrow splinters the darkness of today, the business proclaims.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng is merely the latest of the poor misguided larvae, with their shade-like masks and unfortunate frayed wires, to be rehabilitated into an enlightened pupa under Gabriel Agreste's watchful care.

Truly, the discarding of a mask that kept the Pupa in the dark, and the Pupa's embracement of the Atelier's radiant glow marks a wondrous occasion indeed.

How glorious it will be, an unveiling of the newest Atelier Agreste designer's début? The welcoming of a new Papillon among the ranks, especially one that shines so brightly. Phoebus, like the butterfly and the god of light. What a fitting name for the butterfly that will glow like the sun.

———

Marinette—no, not Marinette, she is Phoebus. She is light, and her glow has been fixed.

Stitch by stitch, she sews herself a collection of chrysalises. To represent her transformation that has been nurtured by the Atelier, Monsieur Agreste had said.

Stitch by stitch by stitch. She must make him proud, he's done so much for her. He saved her from the darkness, showed her the light and how to glow just as brightly herself. She owes him everything.

Stitch by stitch by stitch by stitch. Lila—no, Rubi, after Macrothylacia Rubi, the Fox Moth—visits sometimes. She's pretty, and likes to keep Phoebus company, telling her all about the incredible things Rubi has done and people Rubi has met. She's like Phoebus, taken in and nurtured by the Atelier Agreste. Phoebus hopes Rubi will be one of her chrysalis models.

Stitch. And anchor, and anchor, then up. Snip. Snip. Snip.

Phoebus hears the sound of the studio door opening but she does not stop. Her chrysalises must be perfect, she must finish them in time. Thread the needle and anchor.

Footsteps stride across the studio floor but still Phoebus does not stray her attention from her work. Stitch by stitch.

“Good morning, Pupa, I hope the final preparations for your début are going accordingly.” Monsieur Agreste greets.

Her hands still, work halting. The Pupa Phoebus turns away from the fashion piece before her, and smiles, as brightly as her namesake, up at him. “It is.”

There's a hollowness inside her. And smiling at him makes the hollowness ache but Phoebus does not know why. Monsieur Agreste does not like it when she asks bad-dark-broken-frayed questions like that, so she says nothing more and nothing less. She will be his perfect protégé. He said so, and so she must.

He nods approvingly. “Good. I expect only perfection from you and your work. Do not forget, once the fashion show starts it will mark your eclosion into my Atelier once and for all.”

The Pupa Phoebus nods her head, eyes shining almost too brightly in the studio's lights.“I will ensure everything is to perfection for my début.”

Her actions and words are as doll-like as her title. For she was once named Marinette, which is close to Marionette. Marionettes are dolls. And Pupa once meant doll. Like a doll, she is so painfully hollow inside. But like a doll, she is perfect. She must be.

Monsieur Agreste does not sneer at her but his lips curl in a way that makes the darkness inside her claim he is mocking her.

“The set designers have informed me the catwalk has been transformed into the river Lethe. Isn't it rather fitting?” He pauses, watching her with sharp eyes for her reaction.

She nods. That is what she is supposed to do. It is fitting because he has said so. And Monsieur Agreste is always right.

“After all,” he continues, seemingly satisfied with her response, “it was once believed that the dead may only be reincarnated upon drinking from the Lethe and giving up their memories. And you gave up your memories of pain to be reformed as a butterfly that will shine ever so brightly, my protégé.”

“Oh,” Phoebus responds, tilting her head to one side as her smile wavers for but a fraction of a second. There's something flickering in the back of her head, behind her eyes; splintered memories, nothing substantial but the ghosts—Fantômes, the darkness whispers—of them linger.

The taste of iron, harsh white lights, cold glowing white strands chaining her fragile wire wings to the ground, lights—so many dancing lights, and the sharp electric zaps. She shouldn't try to parse what they mean, what they herald. Remembering the Before is bad, when she was a poor unfortunate Larva who fell through the cracks into the shadows and gutters. She is a Pupa now, and Pupa change. They become better, brighter, than they ever could achieve as Larvae.

Monsieur Agreste picks up on her moment of lapse, his eyes narrowing in what must be concern. “Is something wrong, Pupa?”

Phoebus shakes her head. “I am just anticipating how my début will go.”

He hums, unconvinced.

Understandable—she is not meant to lie, not to him. It is not how a Pupa should act.

“Perhaps you should take a break so we can ensure you've not damaged your light by working so hard. It wouldn't do to have your glow flicker and dim mid-début.” Monsieur Agreste states, pulling his tablet out already to schedule a check-up.

The Pupa Phoebus widens her bright yet hollow smile. “Oh, that is a good idea! A break would be most appreciated, Monsieur Agreste!”

Monsieur Agreste does not laugh but he huffs in what must be amusement. “How unfortunate that it took so long to rescue and take you under my wing. You will do well as one of my Papillons here.” He pauses to adjust his glasses, the light shining on them in a way that makes the lenses appear opaque. “I didn't think I'd get another specimen such as yourself, so perfectly adapted for becoming a Pupa and then a Papillon.”

His not-sneer unfurls into a grin, one that makes the darkness whisper danger. He steps around her, to get a different angle view of her work, and stares pointedly at the fine detailing. “It is a great shame that my son and my nephew have both become wretched larvae like you once were, instead of wonderful Pupae like you've now become.”

“You deserve a better son and nephew, Monsieur Agreste.” Phoebus recites from the script burnt into her mind, though she does not remember when or why she memorised it.

“I do, don't I.” Monsieur Agreste considers in contempt. “That can easily be achieved as soon as my men rescue him from the clutches of those vile Larvae. We believe the ones who held you captive and forced you to work for them, are the same ones who hold both my son and nephew now.”

“Oh.” Phoebus responds, getting the feel that Monsieur Agreste is testing her. Perhaps to ensure no feelings of Stockholm Syndrome remain for her previous captors? Yes, that must be it. How thoughtful and caring of Monsieur Agreste. “That is awful, hopefully, they can be saved soon!”

Monsieur Agreste hums, seemingly in agreement this time. “Hopefully indeed. And once we rescue them, they can then be taught to embrace the radiance my company brings to this world, just as you were taught.”

He places a hand on her shoulder, and squeezes. “And you, my dear Pupa, can help my son and nephew stitch their Chrysalises. For they are both models, like Rubi. Wouldn't that be nice, two additional fellow Papillons for you to befriend, wouldn't that make you very happy?”

Phoebus nods at a perfectly acceptable speed to relay her happiness and excitement. “Yes! That would be wonderful! I would be so happy if that were to happen!”

And yet, the darkness inside her wails and grieves as she utters each word but Phoebus does not understand why.

“Good,” Monsieur Agreste states, “that is very good to hear. Now, I shall return when your break is ready.” He turns around and strides towards the door, stilling at the threshold. “My wife will prepare high tea for you to join her at, once your break is ready.”

The Pupa Phoebus nods, fingers twitching as she turns back to meticulously stitching her chrysalises. “Thank you, Monsieur Agreste, I cannot wait!”

He huffs in what must be amusement again, “I would hope so, Pupa.”

If she didn't know better, the Pupa Phoebus would wonder why the silver butterfly necklace feels more like shackles than a gift. Why the darkness begs her to break the chains.

———

Three months. Three fucking months. Of nothing. Not a whisper on the news or in the underground, no public proclamations of the capture of one of the co-leaders of the most notorious gangs in the city. Nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Three fucking months she's been gone and not a word about what happened.

Jason sits crouched on the sofa, head in his hands. A coffee is placed on the table in front of him, he can tell from the smell, and the sound of the liquid sloshing about inside the cardboard cup.

“Marinette used to like coffee…” Jason bemoans, half-serious, half-jokingly.

Something shatters in the next room over, the kitchen most likely from the sounds of it.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God. Jason!” Alix hiss-screeches, from the same place as the shattering, like an angry kitten on roller skates. “You've said that meme every day for the last month! I'm going to murder you!”

Adrien, who's been sitting on top of the side cabinets, throws his head forwards and barely manages to stifle the laugh by slapping a hand over his mouth. He wheezes for a few seconds as he gets his laughter, and breathing under control again.

Félix snorts from where he's curled up in a cushioned armchair. “Alix has a point, you know. We understand you miss her but as do we.”

“Shhh! You'll disturb him!” Roy shushes, grinning mischievously as he stands behind the sofa. Putting on his best David Attenborough impression, he begins to recite, “here we have the rare Jasonarches Toddamentum brooding in his natural habitat. Lamenting the loss of one of his pack, specifically his co-alpha—”

Jason whips around to face Roy and launches the nearest pillow from the sofa at him, before he can continue the mockumentary. “Co-alphas? Really? That's the best you could come up with! C'mon man!”

Yelping, Roy ducks but not quick enough as the pillow smacks him in the right shoulder and flops onto the floor.

Nodding mock sagely, Félix sighs. “We expected better from you, Roy.”

“Yeah, Roy.” Kori teases, passing a second coffee in her hands over to him.

Placing a hand over his heart, Roy gasps. “Wow! The betrayal!” he complains as he grabs at the coffee and cradles it to his chest with the other. “And thanks, Kori! For the coffee, not the betrayal!”

“Ah, friends?” Markov calls cautiously as he hovers into the room, anxiety lacing his robotic voice, claws fiddling with the corner of what looks to be an envelope.

Immediately the jovial atmosphere splinters and everyone stills. Everyone except Artemis and Alix who walk, and roll into the room respectively, at that precise moment. Both hovering by the respective door frames they entered through, coincidentally opposite each other. Artemis crosses her arms, whilst Alix grabs the door frame with one hand to steady herself.

Jason tenses and glances over at the little AI. “Everything okay, Markov?”

Markov fretfully swings his claw arm around. “One of our couriers was handed a letter.”

“Did they bring it here?” Jason questions, brows furrowing in worry.

Markov shakes his head. “The courier handed it to a third-party forger, and created the forgery I am now holding. It is addressed to Adrien, and Félix.”

Adrien sucks in a sharp breath, he turns to exchange a look with Félix. “You don't think it's…” He trails off, unwilling to say it out loud in case it makes it any more likely.

Grimacing, Félix nods. “It has to be. It was rather publicly known when you were "kidnapped",” he states, making quotation marks with his fingers as he stressed the word, “by this gang. Less so when you spearheaded my "kidnapping", with them.”

“Yeah… that's. We didn't think that through.” Adrien admits, scrunching his mouth up in concern. “But! If that didn't happen, I wouldn't have gotten to use Cheval Mallet as my vigilante name, which is a plus at least!”

Félix huffs bitterly. “Oh, because getting to use a vigilante name that fits thematically is completely and utterly worth getting targeted by the Big Butterfly himself?”

“In my defence—” Adrien starts, only to shut his mouth again as words fail him. “Nevermind, you've got a point.”

Jason clicks his tongue. “More importantly, we need to decide what we're doing about this.”

“We need to actually see what is inside the envelope, first.” Félix counters, marching over to Markov.

Markov dips in the air in lieu of a nod and extends his claw-arm to hand Félix the envelope. “Here you go, friend!”

“Thank you, Markov.” Félix responds, nodding his head to the little AI as he takes the extended envelope. He marches back over to Adrien and slips out the disguised knife pen out of his pocket, before carefully slicing the top of the envelope open like one would do with a letter opener. Plucking the letter from inside, he holds it at an angle so only he and Adrien can read what has been written.

Seconds pass.

Swearing under his breath, Adrien glances up at Jason with panic clear in his eyes. “It's… it's from Kagami. She's been compromised, the Big Butterfly knows she was in contact with us. He and her mother have forced her to invite us to the Big Butterfly's upcoming fashion show…”

“She's worried that it's a trap, to capture us both so that they can… do to us what they did to my mother, and all of his Papillons.” Félix continues in Adrien's stead, barely able to conceal the dawning horror on his face.

Artemis moves towards them and asks as softly as she can, brows furrowing in concern. “And what exactly, did they do to your mother?”

He swallows a breath of air thickly. “Adrien's mother went missing a few years ago. And so my mother and I visited Adrien and his sperm donor as we were all grieving. However, I started to notice things seemed off and before either of us realised, the Big Butterfly was parading my mother around in front of the news and media pretending she was her twin sister instead. Even at home, she started treating me like Adrien's mother had.”

“What the fuck! Are you saying the Big Butterfly brainwashed your mom?” Jason exclaims, eyes wide with a mixture of horror, disgust, and alarm.

“Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. The Big Butterfly brainwashed my mum into believing she was Aunt Emilie, purely so that he could keep appearances up in front of the cameras.” Félix confirms, hands balled into fists and shaking ever so slightly. “When Adrien got out and joined here, I stumbled across the Big Butterfly's plans to replace Adrien by doing the same to me. If you all hadn't helped me get out in time…” He chokes up, unable to get the next words out of his mouth.

“That is truly despicable. I'm sorry.” Artemis apologises, looking equally disturbed by the information.

“Shit.” Roy mutters, glancing between Félix and Adrien. “What do we do? We can't just let another innocent get fucking brainwashed!”

Kori purses her lips. “I think,” she starts, giving an understanding look at the two, “we should let Adrien and Félix decide. They are the most familiar with the Big Butterfly, this Kagami, and the situation as a whole.”

Clearing her throat, Alix roller skates a little closer to others. “Guys, you don't think…” she trails off, trying to find her words but also torn over whether saying it out loud will make it true, “you don't think that's what's happened to Marinette? It would explain why we've heard nothing from her or Roaar since she disappeared.”

“Holy fucking shit! I'm going to burn that fucking bastard and his fucking fashion show to the ground if he fucking dared!” Hisses Jason, his eyes flaring toxic green as the fury of the Lazarus Pit burns in his veins. He digs his nails into the fabric of the sofa and his lips curl into a near-frenzied snarl.

“Woah, woah! Jason, calm the fuck down! That might not be what's happened!” Roy intercepts, grabbing Jason by the shoulder.

Jason turns to glare at Roy. “But it also might be what happened to her!”

“We should go.” Adrien cuts in sharply, “Max can get the rest of you in via hacking. Félix and I will be the distraction, and I'll bring Kaalki so we have a quick escape in case things go wrong. Whilst everyone else who goes to the show needs to focus on getting Kagami out. Then once that's done, we can try and look for anything that suggests they've got Marinette. And if we find Marinette, we get her out as well.”

Félix nods. “That's a good enough plan for me.”

Smiling bitterly, Adrien tilts his head to one side. “So, who else is up for crashing the show?”

Kori, Roy, Artemis, and Alix all exchange glances before nodding.

“Max and I are in!” Markov pipes up, hovering up in a swing.

“That leaves, who's telling Luka, and Bizarro they're holding down the fort this time?” Jason mutters.

“Dibs not it!” Everyone but Artemis calls out.

She rolls her eyes at the antics of the others. “I will tell the two of them their roles for this mission. Don't worry.”

Jason hums. “We could also probably call in a favour with the Sparrow kid that you,” he nods towards Adrien, “and Marinette befriended. Not to hold down the fort but to help cover us at the fashion show?”

“Oh! I'm sure Sparrow will be more than happy to help! That's a great idea!” Adrien cheers, perking up slightly.

Moving over to the coffee table, Félix places the letter down in the centre. “Right. Let's get ourselves ready to crash a fashion show.”

———

Adrien and Félix both don a light disguise. One that's easy enough to recognise them on a closer inspection but subtle enough to not attract immediate attention.

The others, in heavier disguises, had arrived early and gotten in already—split between two teams. One with hacked tickets, and the other through breaking and entering, the gang's speciality. Sparrow had also been more than happy to help and had roped in a few others from their gang, the Quantic Kids, into helping watch the outside of the building.

Leaving Félix and Adrien to arrive together, separate from the rest of the gang; they make sure to arrive slightly late to try and avoid the worst of the crowds. Approaching the doors, they hand over their tickets and try to appear as nonchalant as possible.

The nearest android guard eyes their tickets and puts out a hand. “Wait.”

“Is there something wrong with our tickets, sir?” Félix asks, smiling sweetly enough to hide the undercurrent of threat.

The android guard nods their head at another then looks the two up and down in a scrutinising—analysing fashion. “We have explicit orders to escort anyone with these tickets to the seats.”

Adrien grimaces. “Understood, lead the way then.”

The android guards exchange nods once more, then the one slightly further away pulls out a radio and starts quietly reporting into it, too low for either Félix or Adrien to catch anything. Useful or otherwise.

“Follow me.” Says the nearer one as they start walking away.

Félix sighs and lightly knocks shoulders with Adrien as a reminder of solidarity as well as to get ready. Waiting for only a second, they both start following after the guard. Félix adjusts the secret mic and camera attached to his tie, ensuring that it was now transmitting its feed to Max and Markov, as well as Luka back at base.

Next to him, Adrien does the same with his own tie and attached secret mic and camera.

They're led down a few hallways, up a couple of winding staircases, and down a few more hallways before the guard stops outside a door with a metal sign on it reading: Private.

“Your seats are through here.” The android guard says, slotting a keycard into the door, causing a glowing keypad panel to open up in the centre. Then, the android guard scans a digital code into the door and the door swings open before it.

Adrien nods to the android guard and tugs Félix after him as he strides across the threshold, head held high.

There's a shriek, as they pass through the door, and a body slams into Adrien and it's only thanks to his vigilante instincts that he doesn't drop the body.

“Oh, Adrikins!” Chloé cries out, hugging him tightly. “I can't believe you're back!” She lets go of him for a second to step back and check out his outfit. “Urgh, you could do with some better clothes though. It's fine,” she says, waving a hand, “after today's show we can go on a shopping trip together!”

Adrien smiles awkwardly and unconvincingly responds, “yeah… it's nice to see you again too, Chloé.”

Félix, the traitor, snickers at Adrien's predicament and steps around the two to fully enter the room. The android guard does not follow, and the door shuts automatically behind them.

Inside, is a private bar and lounge with double doors on the far wall, opposite the 'Private' entry door.

Kagami glances up from her place from the sofa against the wall with the double doors. She raises an eyebrow. “It is good to see that you made it here safely.”

“As safe as we could.” Félix grunts, delicately dropping into the seat next to her on the sofa.

She hums, tuning out Chloé's screeching with practised ease. “How are the horse-related magic tricks you were working on going?”

“Pretty well, though I don't suppose Father will be all too pleased with the one I plan to practise tonight,” Félix responds.

Kagami relaxes her shoulders in relief for a split second. “Oh? And what sort of magic trick is it?”

“I've dubbed it: Call a Key. And it's like those pull a rabbit from a hat tricks but with a horse from a hoop.” He says, drawing a circle in the air. A circle that just so happens to be the same size and shape as Kaalki's average portals.

“I see,” Kagami says, nodding, “well, perhaps after tonight's show, you won't mind showing me it so far?”

Félix grins, “I'd love to, Kagami.”

Their conversation lulls into silence, so Félix hops off the sofa and goes over to the private bar to fix himself and Adrien some drinks. Seeing as Chloé was showing no signs of letting his cousin go at the moment. A potential hazard for the plan, he worries. With drinks in hand, he rejoins Kagami by the sofa.

An announcement rings out over the loudspeakers on the walls as the double doors swing open in a slow and controlled manner.

“That, is our cue that the show will be starting soon,” Kagami mutters to him. She takes a deep breath and raises her voice, “Chloé, Adrien, it is time we take our seats for the show.”

Chloé squeals, forcefully dragging Adrien across the private lounge and through onto the balcony where their booth seats are.

Sighing, Félix follows after the two with Kagami a few steps behind him.

“Oh, I'm so glad you managed to make it to today's fashion show, Adrikins!” Chloé exclaims, clutching at Adrien's arm like a hawk and gesturing wildly with the other. “It's so nice of your daddy to hold this show in the theatre so we could have a private booth together to watch the show! And it's going to be a really special show from what I've overheard, Gabriel's débuting a new and upcoming fashion designer! Isn't that so exciting, I'm sure your daddy will let you model for them now that you're back! After all,” she scoffs, “he's letting that peasant fox model for the designer today.”

“Is that so?” Adrien responds, glancing at Félix with deep-seated worry etched into his stare.

Félix clenches his fists and takes a deep breath.

Frowning, Kagami taps Félix on the arm and sends him a questioning glance.

“We'll explain it later.” He mumbles quietly enough for her to just hear.

Below them, the sounds of people taking their seats echoes. A few minutes pass, Félix and Kagami make minor small talk whilst Adrien is forced to listen to Chloé prattle on.

The main lights dim and then go out, plunging the room into darkness. The curtains rise, from the sounds of the heavy and large swathes of fabric moving on the pulleys.

Classical music starts playing—not unlike the music Adrien used to learn on the piano. And one by one, the lights in the shape of asphodels flicker to life on the stage, illuminating a sea of the flowers surrounding a catwalk designed like a river carving through the land. White marble Greco-Esque pillars and arches litter the flower fields. Framing the scene, is the blank white wall at the back of the catwalk and stage. The lighting shifts to cast spotlights on the wall behind the catwalk.

Félix tunes out the rest of the show starting, instead putting all his focus in searching for any security watching their booth, as well as for any sign of Marinette.

The show continues on, slowly models wearing pieces designed like asphodels, butterflies, and cocoons or chrysalises strut up and down the catwalk. The spotlights follow them, making the pieces and models appear to glow under the light.

Luckily, there's no obvious security paying attention to their booth. But that doesn't mean they're in the clear, for all they know, Gabriel could have bugged the place to the rafters. They had worked out before entering, that they'd have to leave before the end of the show. Otherwise, they'd most likely be captured and brainwashed just like Félix's mum.

A new announcement from the stage gives both Adrien and Félix pause, neither having fully caught what was said other than mentions of the reveal of the designer. They tense and try to hide the signs of their anxious anticipation. The flickering flame of hope in their chests threatens to extinguish from the worry that this could be what they feared it to be.

The lights and spotlights on stage all dim; whilst the music fades to a quieter volume. The almost deafening echoing clack-clack-clack of heels against the catwalk seems so much louder than when the models in heels had been walking across it.

Félix holds his breath and clasps his hands together tightly. Adrien leans forwards to get a better look over at the stage. They should be nudging Kagami and getting ready to go by now but they can't will themselves to look away. Like a tragedy; a car catching fire and about to crash.

A figure in a chrysalis dress steps onto the catwalk. Step by step by step, they slowly walk to the end of the catwalk. The faint glow of the lights still perfectly illuminates the figure's face though.

And Adrien's heart stops. “No!”

“What? Is that—?” Chloé starts, only to be interrupted by the cacophonous roar of a standing ovation from the rest of the audience.

Félix, Adrien, and Kagami all pale in horror.

“That's… that's Marinette.” Kagami whispers to Félix, her panic thinly veiled.

Stiffly, Félix nods and swallows a breath of air thickly. “So. Minor change of plans.”

“I can see why.” Kagami responds automatically, in horror.

On the catwalk below, the dress shimmers and appears to crack. Shadowy mist seeping from the cracks is followed by a blinding glow eviscerating the darkness. From the cracks, the outer layers of the dress splinter away, and the layers below begin to unfurl. Bright white, beautiful butterfly wings edged with black and the odd symmetrical red spots.

Gabriel Agreste, Papillon, joins her on the stage. “Isn't this such a momentous and wonderful occasion? Tonight, we have witnessed the eclosion of a new Papillon within the Atelier Agreste. And I'm delighted by the bright welcome Phoebus has received.”

At the call of her Papillon name, Phoebus bows.

Félix's heartbeat pounds in his ears, nearly drowning out Gabriel's words.

Before he, or Adrien, can react, there's a buzzing in his ear from the disguised earpiece comms.

“Félix. Adrien. Get Kagami and get out! Now!” Max's voice filters through, “they're sending a reinforcement of guards towards your location. I'll try to hack them but it'll be close!”

Standing abruptly, Adrien yanks himself away from Chloé's death grip.

“Wha—Adrikins!” She protests, still too shocked by the revelation of the new designer having been Marinette, to try and stop him.

Adrien backs away into the private lounge, flushing red with embarrassment. “Sorry Chloé, I-uh… need to use the men's room. Be-right-back!”

He turns heel and makes his way over to the opposite door and yanks it open.

Félix stares at Adrien in disbelief before nodding at Kagami and grabbing her by the arm. He does not so much run, as speed walk after Adrien.

The second all three of them are clear of the private door's threshold, Kagami kicks her foot back to shut the door behind them. The three then start sprinting down the halls.

The hidden earpiece crackles again. “You three and Jason are the nearest to the backstage where Marinette will be soon. I'll lead the four of you towards the location, just follow my directions and don't do anything stupid once Jason joins you.”

“No promises,” Adrien mutters in response. “I'm seriously considering committing patricide at this point.”

Max doesn't immediately respond, presumably having switched channels to help deal with the others, or get out himself.

Less than a minute later, the earpiece crackles again, but this time it's Luka who starts relaying the directions to the backstage whilst keeping them updated on both human and android guards as well as security camera positions.

“You're halfway there, Jason should be just through the third door on the right.” Luka informs, sounding calm but they know him too well to not hear the veneer of fury beneath every word.

Adrien yanks open the third door on the right open, and lo and behold, Jason is sprinting past the open door in the corridor it leads to.

“Wait up!” Félix hisses after Jason.

It seems Jason manages to hear him and skids on the balls of his steel-toed boots, scratching up the wooden flooring, to stare at them with his green eyes blazing. “Alix was fucking right.” He bites out.

“We are coming with you, to save her.” Kagami states, looking equally furious.

Jason cocks his head to the side. “Then c'mon, we need to run.”

The four exchange nods and glances and burst into a sprint down the hallway, following Luka's directions.

Direction after direction after direction. It feels like Luka relays to them hundreds of those endless directions before the four of them reach a long hallway with double doors at the end that has a large sign above it, labelled: Backstage.

Skidding to a stop again, Jason holds out an arm to stop the others as well. “As much as I want to run in, laser guns a-blazin', who knows what kinda fucking security shit they've got ready for us.”

Adrien grimaces. “But they knew we didn't know that they have Marinette. So why would they prepare security for us rescuing her when they're trying to capture us?”

“Have you forgotten how much security the Big Butterfly placed around my mother, after brainwashing her? Public spectacles like this always involve far too much security around the shining star of the show!” Félix spits acerbically, fists shaking, breathing shallow.

Adrien places a hand on his shoulder. “Worst case situation, we can get Kaalki to get us out and we can try and rescue Marinette another time.”

Jason scowls. “If we're forced to do that, I want to shoot that fucker's skull in first.”

“Technically, shouldn't Adrien get right of shooting him before you?” Kagami asks, half-smiling that awkward smile of hers.

Huffing, Jason nods to Adrien. “Fine, but I dibs second shot then. And if you go for the skull, I'm shooting that bastard in the fucking dick.”

Adrien makes a choking noise and doubles over, barely managing to stifle his laughter. He takes a few deep breaths and wipes tears away from his eyes. “Deal!” He wheezes, “please, I'd like nothing more than for you to get the second shot and do that!”

“Good fucking choice,” Jason mutters in response, a cheeky grin crossing his face for but a second before it falls back to the furious snarl. “Now, let's see what's behind the doors and get our anthill tiger back!”

The earpieces Jason, Félix, and Adrien are wearing, buzz again. “Might want to hurry up.” Luka smoothly informs. “Three human guards are coming your way. And as far as Max can see through his hacking, there's no android guards or drones backstage.��� He pauses, “the rest of our gang won't be able to reach you four in time, neither will Sparrow's. You're going solo.”

The four exchange quick glances among themselves. “That's a risk we're willing to take if it means getting Marinette back.”

“I'll keep you updated on any changes. Break a leg or three, especially try to break the Big Butterfly's legs if you can.” Luka responds.

Jason snorts. “We'll try our best.”

The channel goes silent, as Jason quietly opens the backstage doors and the four of them sneak through.

———

The show has ended, by the time the four of them arrive through the backstage doors. Jason spots a rack of clothes and gestures to the others to follow him as he creeps over to hide behind it.

She's there. Marinette—or Phoebus, as the Big Butterfly had called her. There in the centre of the backstage. Standing stock-still. Still dressed in that fucking chrysalis—butterfly dress. Like a creepy human-sized doll.

Jason focuses on his breathing, in and out, in and out, in and out. Trying not to let the sickly radioactive green flood his vision and veins.

He freezes as he watches the Big Butterfly himself stride up to her and circle her like a vulture.

“You did very well today, Phoebus.” The Big Butterfly says, with a sneer on his face. “Unfortunately, my son and Nephew have so rudely absconded from their booth before the show ended.”

The Papillon Phoebus dips her head, and ever so hollowly sounding, replies, “that is most unfortunate.”

It takes all Jason's concentration to not be sick at how empty she sounds and acts. He glances at the others and Kagami, Adrien, and Félix all look sickened by the sight.

The Big Butterfly's sneer morphs into a scowl. “It is indeed. However, Mademoiselle Bourgeois was able to inform us of something very interesting.”

Tilting her head to one side, the Papillon Phoebus stares blankly at him. “Oh?”

“Apparently, my son had quite the reaction to the sight of you on stage, my Papillon. Isn't that interesting.” The Big Butterfly taunts.

She blinks at him then nods slowly and stiffly. “Yes. That is very interesting, Monsieur Agreste.”

His scowl curls into a victorious sneer. “That's what I thought, my dear Papillon.”

Jason shakes, he can't watch any more of this fucking creepy-ass bastard messing with his gang co-leader. He whips both of his recently upgraded guns from their holsters and grips the handles with whitening knuckles.

Before the others can think to stop him, Jason dives out of cover and shoots his twin guns. Pew-pew!

The laser bolts slam into the back of the Big Butterfly, frying two circles into his suit and melting the material to his skin.

The Big Butterfly screams in pain and fury. He pivots in place to turn and glare at where the shots had come from. The light flashes across his glasses again, making the lenses appear opaque. As his gaze latches onto Jason, his victorious sneer splits and twists and unfurls into a monstrous smirk. He starts to laugh, like poison bubbling and frothing from his lips.

And as the Big Butterfly does, Jason catches sight of the glint of small purple flapping around the Papillon Phoebus'—Marinette's—neck.

The bubbling and frothing poison of an Akuma's transformation swirls around her, staining every speck of her and forming a glimmering chrysalis once more.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Jason chants under his breath. Eyes wide with instant regret, he taps his earpiece. “We fucked up! Holy fucking shit, we fucked up!”

“What?!” Comes the frantic response from Luka. “What do you mean? What's happened? What did you do?”

Jason laughs nervously, “she's an Akuma! She's been fucking akumatised.”

“Hold on as long as possible, the others got swarmed by guards and can't reach you yet.” Luka frets.

At that, Kagami, Adrien, and Félix all burst out from behind the clothes rack, each with laser pistols also in hand. Zap-zap-zap.

The three more shots ring out but only one hits, Adrien and Félix both shaking too much for theirs to land.

“We shall try.” Félix responds to Luka.

The chrysalis-Akuma-poison coalesces around the Papillon Phoebus before cracking and dripping away. Revealing two large butterfly wings exactly like the dress. Phoebus wings. She flutters her wings and begins to float a metre or so above the ground.

“Fuck!” Jason curses, and behind him he can hear the other three echoing the sentiment. He stares at the purple butterfly chain around her throat. “Akuma is in the necklace!”

A bright light, not dissimilar to a flashbang, pops off. Immediately blinding all four of them.

“Capture them!” The Big Butterfly orders.

Kagami yelps.

The blindness caused by the light fades, and Adrien gasps. Jason swears under his breath again, and he and Félix both fire off more shots. This time towards the Akuma object, as the Big Butterfly has vanished.

Cocooned to the ground, Kagami squirms, trying to free herself from the Akuma's trap.

“Fucking shit!” Jason helpfully says on the earpiece channel. “She's trying to fucking capture us for the fucking bastard! And he's disappeared!” He bodily throws himself to the ground to dodge a mote of brilliant radiance lancing towards him.

The Papillon Phoebus tilts her head to the side, wings glittering with bright golden light like her namesake. Safely blocking the laser blasts towards her object with her massive wings.

Thankfully, only one of Kagami's hands is trapped. And not the one with the gun. As quietly as possible, she shoots the gun to slice through the cocoon and free herself.

The wings start to glow brighter and brighter and brighter.

“Flashbang!” Jason yells, diving behind cover in the form of a cluster of mannequins and slapping a hand over his eyes.

Kagami grabs Adrien and the two duck behind a different rack of clothes. Whilst Félix leaps over a stack of boxes and hides there.

The radiance flares once more, but fails to blind any of them.

“We need to shoot the object. I'll draw the attention at the front. Kagami, get behind and get ready to shoot her in the back as a distraction. Adrien and Félix, you two flank her on opposite sides.” Jason plans quietly into the earpiece channel.

Jason leaves his hiding spot first, vaulting over the cluster of mannequins and shoots a laser bolt at the Papillon Phoebus' necklace again. It's blocked by the wings, as to be expected.

Félix leaps back over the stack of boxes and flanks the Papillon Phoebus on the right. Whilst Adrien rolls out from behind the clothes rack and flanks on the left.

The three in position, shoot simultaneously at the Akuma, as to distract her.

Kagami bolts from her hiding spot and flanks behind the Papillon Phoebus.

The wings start to flutter and glow brighter once more.

“Now!” Jason yells.

Zap!

The blast slams into the Papillon Phoebus' back, right between where her wings connect to her shoulder blades. Instinctively she splays her wings out in pain and curls backwards.

Zap-zap!

Two more blasts slam into her, one in each wingtip.

Zap!

Finally, Jason shoots last and his aim is true. Crackle-snap!

The blast sears through the chain necklace, warping the metal and snapping it in twain.

The two parts of the object clatter to the ground and a purple butterfly claws itself out from the broken chains.

Jason spins his gun in his hand and shoots a final laser straight through the moth. Burning a perfect hole through its wings and killing it instantly. Purple Akuma-goop leaks from its injuries and then fades, leaving behind the scorched corpse of what was once a white butterfly.

He sighs in relief, and quickly taps his earpiece. “Akuma dealt with.”

As he says that, the Akuma de-transforms midair and Marinette collapses to the ground. Limp, like a puppet with their strings cut or a discarded doll—a cracked Pupa.

“Thank fuck.” Luka's responds over the channel, sounding tired.

Jason drags a hand down his face. The green poisoning his vision dissipates for the time being, and he hurries over to Marinette. Ever so carefully, he scoops her into his arms—bridal style—and pulls her close to his chest.

Kagami drops to her knees and breathes.

Adrien weakly punches the air with his gun in hand. “Wooh! Luka, we're calling a key home. Disable security please?”

Félix snorts, moving back to lean against the stack of boxes.

“No need, there's no security cameras backstage. I'll hear your songs when you back at base.” Luka relays, tone light with happiness and relief despite the tiredness. “The others have dealt with the guards, so they're on their way back too.”

Adrien transforms with Kaalki, becoming Cheval Mallet. He walks over to Kagami and offers her a hand. Félix, and Jason with Marinette unconscious in his arms join them.

The portal opens up before them, and they walk through together. Today, they've won another battle. Tomorrow they'll try to find out what has been done to Marinette. But tonight, tonight all the conscious members of the gang huddle together in the lounge. And among themselves, they build a pillow and blanket fort, and relax.

They're all together, and they're all safe, for once.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| So title dissection, Atelier meaning Fashion Studio comes from the Latin "Astula" meaning "Splinter", Astula also is the Genus for the flower Asphodel. Phoebus as mentioned in the fic is the god of light but it also means "Bright". Eclose is the leaving of a cocoon/chrysalis. Pupa is another term for cocoon/chrysalis when the butterfly/moth becomes soup and goes through metamorphosis. But it also comes from the Latin meaning Girl or Doll. So In the Fashion Studio's Glow, the Bright/Light Doll will be Released. |

| Fun Fact: Larva/Larvae mean Mask or Ghost in Latin. Also the suffix "Arches" means Leader/Ruler. So Jasonarches means Jason-Leader :3 |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Can you do a list of Mic being pure w/ his favorite student, (y/n) (like, he’s not afraid to show it), but she’s living with her friend and their family since she’s alone in Japan, and trying to keep it a secret. But when he finds out he’s just “ASDFGHJKLWHAT”, and he’s trying to help her with so many things, which soon evolves to “custody of child—”.

https://dontbesoweirdkira.tumblr.com/post/189518600672/hey-its-me-again-i-hope-you-are-still-open-for

A/N: I first would like to say I ALSO HAVE EATEN A NUCLEAR REACTOR...it tasted like radiation and strawberries yummy!  Here’s your soft present mic X student. I hope you enjoy.  

(I kind of made it where you aren’t fully living with your friend. Just bouncing from the streets to her house every so often if that makes sense??)Requests open

-So at first Mic didn’t notice anything was up...well no he did but he kind of brushed it off since he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

-Like when he asked for your parents signature but they were always somehow “out of town” or “working overtime” 

-Or when he was going to offer you a ride home since it was pretty late but you just insisted to walk by yourself. And how you didn’t bother to call them and let them know you were going to be home a bit later than usual. 

-He was always curious but like i said he didn’t want to cross a boundary and make you feel uncomfortable about something so personal. Besides how would he bring it up?

-”Hey Y/N, Why do you always conveniently “forget” to fill out your home address on forms?” 

-Yeah see his dilemma?^ And like what if it was nothing and it really was just a convenience.  It seemed better to leave it alone and not worry. You’d tell him if something was going on, right?

-Maybe one day you’re talking to your friend and He’s just around the corner so he overhears the conversation.

-”Hey Y/N, my family is going out of town for a few weeks. I- i would ask if you could come with so you’ll have some place to stay but we are going out of the county and you know how that is..”

-”Oh..um..Don’t worry, I'll figure something out.”

-”Are you sure? I- i can always leave the house key so you can have somewhere safe to go? But uhm, My cousin might come over every so often to watch a game or to check the house so be alert and make sure he doesn’t see you.” 

-”N-No it’s okay, seriously. I’ll find somewhere to go, thank you though. ”

-”Well, I'll leave the key under the doormat if you change your mind, we’re leaving in the afternoon tomorrow so after then the place will be yours for a bit.I’ll text you later, ‘kay?”

-He’s shocked?? Like he thought maybe your at home life wasn’t good or maybe you were embarrassed about living in a low income place, but you were homeless?? And you’ve been staying with your friends every so often?? Why didn’t you tell him? Did you not feel comfortable? He’s in this weird state of shock and acknowledgement.

-For the rest of the school day hE Is cOnTemPlaTiNg oN WhaT tO Do. He’s not sure how he should bring it up or even if he should bring it up. 

- *is casually being torn apart internally as he’s trying to teach english*

-*dEeP sPaCe STarE while he is standing at the board pointing to the sentence structures*

-”Sensei, are you oka-”

-”IMTHINKINGASHARDASICANTOFIGUREOUTASOLUTIONDONTPRESSUREMEoKaY.”

-lolol but once classes are over he taps you on the shoulder and asks if he could walk with you home for a bit. You visibly nervous, you reject and say “Umm It’s all right Mr.Hizashi, you’re busy and I don't want you to take up any of your time plus it’s late and I'm tired and i have to go and-”

-”Y/n...You don’t have to make up excuses, I know you don’t have anywhere to stay.”

-stopping in your tracks, your eyes went wide and you faced him 

-”I heard you talking to that friend this morning.”

-M-mr.Hizashi I can explain-”

-cutting you off once again he begins “Hey, you don’t have to do any of that. It’s your business. But I don’t want you to just roaming around or staying anywhere alone anymore, okay? If you would like, I have an extra bedroom at my house, you can stay there until we get everything sorted.”

-”No..Mr.Hizashi...It’s okay..I’ll be okay, I’ve always have. Plus you have been such a great teacher and already went out of your way more than what I could have asked...staying with you would be too much.”

-”Y/n, it’s okay to ask for help. I seriously don’t mind. At least stay for the night so you can eat and have a roof over your head, then in the morning we’ll figure something out.”

-You hesitantly accepted but you told him that you’d be out of his hair as soon as the next morning hit.

-That night going to his house was...nice to say the least. The guest bedroom that he had was bigger than your friend’s kitchen and nicer than any place that you’ve stayed at. It really was heaven. So warm and cosy. There was a nice sense of nostalgia and security, something you’ve haven’t felt in years. His home was somewhere anyone would want to live in their whole lives. 

-”Once you’ve settled down, you can come to the dining room. I ordered some take out, I figured you’d be hungry.”

-For a moment you sat on the fluffy bed and just took in everything. God was so good to you right now and honestly you thanked him. Although it frustrates you to think that this would only last for a second and you’d be back on the streets, roaming around. Yeah yeah, Hizashi wants to help you but you knew soon he’d get tired of your presence in his house…..they all did. 

-Taking a deep breath, you went to go meet hizashi in the dining room.

-He welcomed you then motioned you to sit down at any of the seats at the table. “Oh hey, there’s miss america. You may sit anywhere you’d like. And help yourself to the food here.”

-You sat down across from him, only not to look at him just to have your eyes on the empty plate in front of you. You didn’t really touch any of the food actually or even make a sound. You weren’t trying to be rude or anything, you just..there was a lot on your mind and facing hizashi seemed difficult.

-”Are you okay Y/N? I hope sushi is okay. I- i meant to um ask what you would like to eat first. I’m sorry.”

-”No I’m sorry for-,”  twiddling your thumbs for a moment you then looked towards the blonde fellow “Mr.Hizashi..My parents left when I was around three but they left me with my aunt. She was a very good person and took good care of me but she got very ill...and um you know. At first I was living in her apartment but i couldn’t pay for it when it was time for rent so..I stayed with my friend for a couple of months. But her parents kind of got tired of me staying there and it was this thing, so I lied and told them I found a family member to stay with. And um up until now I've been staying on the streets. Sometimes having a sleepover once every so often.”

-”Y/n…”

-”I didn’t tell you because I was so scared… I didn't know what to do and I really really don’t want to go in foster care or anything so I just thought I was better off keeping it from you. But I guess it backfired anyways because you still found out haha….I’m sorry Hizashi. I hope you don’t think of me any less. I- it was a tough situation and all and you know how that is...”

-He immeadately stood up, walked over to you and hugged you. It was with So mUcH compassion and genuine love. You really was his favorite student no scratch that HIS FAVORITE HUMAN i swear he would end the world for you. 

-He gave you a little cheek kiss and was like “I’m not letting anyone put you in foster care and I'm sure as hell am not kicking you out even if i have to take custody of you.”

-”w-wait what? wAiT wHaT???”

-”KID IM fucking keeping you here safe with me even if i’m in court all year. We are going to make this work somehow, you aren’t doing this alone anymore. Do you understand?”

-YeAh hEs cRyInG iM cRyinG yOuRe CryInG wE aLl CryinG 

-BRO YOU ARE UGLY CRYING NOT NO SOFT CUTE CRY LIKE HAHA YOU SOUND LIKE A WALRUS TRYING TO SAY ‘t-tH-Th-HaNKy-yyy-YoUUU-UOi  mR hIzZaShIiIi”

-He whipes the tears of your cheeks and ruffles your hair 

-”it’ll be okay Y/N, I promise.”

-I swear he’s like rushing to the computer and trying to figure out how to adopt you.

-”HoW tO aDoPt a ChILD wHen You aRe a hEro.”

-There's an actual wiki-how about it???????

-No but he’s really doing his research and is visiting lawyers trying to find the right one. He has them immediately looking into everything and making sure that his chances of getting you is as high as possible. 

-He’s up late at night on the phone, emailing,  and writing

-He has pounds and pounds of evidence that he is the most fit person to take care of you. He is not playing whatsoever

-He already let’s you decorate and he even gives you an office so you can do work or whatever. He most definitely brought you clothes and stuff for your room.

-When the courts and everything finally approves it after a long year of fighting, he picked you up and spun you around.

-”What did I tell you?!? I was not going to lose you and i made sure of that. And starting today and the rest of  forever you’ll never have to be alone.”

-BonUs

-100% takes you out somewhere super fun and nice. 

-”Wait we must take a selfie, The first day we are legally Father-daughter!”

-The most chaotic duo now, Everyone at school knows he adopted you and like he won't let anyone forget it.

-MISSSSSS AMERICAAAAAAA, is now, MISSSSSSS HIZAAAAASSSHHHHHIIIIIIII.

-”WHEEEEERRREEEE ISSS MYYYY LITTLE MUSHROOM???”

-”YYYYYY/NNNNN YOU LEFT YOUR BAG IN MY MINIVAN.”

-He has a minivan now. It also has a ‘Yeah I’m a soccer dad and i’m proud’ sticker on it.

-He joined the PTA 

-HE IS SOOO BIASED I SWEAR NO ONE IS ABOVE YOU IN HIS CLASS AND NO ONE BETTER SAY ANYTHING ABOUT IT

-Always hugging you and giving you little cheek kisses when he sees you in the halls

-Made a titled track called “Now a dad”

-he most definitely wears ‘Best Dad’ shirts now. He also is in a ‘Single dad’s in Japan’ group now

-”I think we look just alike, Don’t we Y/N?” you both smiled and posed at the same time

[taeyohonic]

with wuff

summary: you are definitely not a dog. so, why is the infamous kim taehyung scratching you behind the ear? alternatively, due to misfortune you wake up in kim yeontan’s body.

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

genre: 88% crack, 12 % fluff

warning: this is not a warning – just a plea for forgiveness. i mayyyhaps wanted to write a hybrid piece because there’s a pretty awesome network being build. and then this idea stuck with me. which is not a hybrid story. of course. dana can’t do anything right. no dogs were harmed during the writing process. yeontan is happily sipping doggy-margaritas while the reader is ascending to madness. There is no form of bestiality of any kind. (didn’t know if I had to actually say that, but… better safe than sorry); there are some swear words!

words: 6k

There is no way this is really happening. No fucking way. This can’t be real. You must have gone mad. Or died. Oh no, your mother will be devastated. Your family does not have enough money to pay for a funeral let alone a psychiatrist. No, there is no way you’re staring at Kim Taehyung’s eyes.

“Ya, Tannie… what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost”, he asks and looks at you. What is happening? You want to question or even shake the idol in front of you, but all you can hear is a… bark?

What. The. Hell, you think and title your head to the side. Taehyung copies your movement and crouches down lower.

“Baby, talk to me!”, he whines. Yeah, you’ve gone insane. The hospital bills will put even your brother’s son’s children in debt.

You try to suppress a sniffle as you can feel your eyes water.

“No, no, no, no, no”, the idol cries and falls completely to the floor. His hands touch your fur while he whispers calming words into your ear.

“I'll only be gone for two hours”, he starts to bargain with you, “three hours tops!” Now he is scratching a sensitive spot right under your ear and all your emotions shortcut.

Taehyung looks at you with a knowing smirk on his lips and continues to give you pets.

“And I’ll even bring you back some strawberries”, he adds. After a moment of silence the idol backtracks. “Obviously we’d have to share.”

“Don’t look at me like that, Tannie. Sharing is caring”, Taehyung says and retreats his hand before standing up. You whine.

“Don’t you looooove me like I love you?”, he sings as he moves around the room. There is a branded gym bag on the ground which he slings over his shoulder. Then the man stares down at you.

“No?”, he asks and gives you a pout. “Even though I’d share hyung’s strawberries with you?”

You can only stare at the idol as he steps closer to the door. After he puts his right hand on the handle, his other clutches his heart in mock pain.

“Boy, you’re giving me whiplash with your mood swings. If you’re keeping this up, we’ll be in couples therapy in no time.”

You can’t move a muscle as you watch him leave. There are some movements, keys jiggling and then you hear a front door open.

“Hah, Jin would have a filled day with that… me and my dog sitting on a couch discussing our relationship”, you hear him chuckle and then the sound of a door closing follows.

You don’t know how long you’re staring at the wall – it could have been hours. But after the first shock leaves your bones you take a deep breath and look down… at your paws.

Ah, freakedy frack, what the hell? With tiny steps you move around the room; glad that Taehyung has left the door open. Soon one can hear your claws tapping on the granite floor. You’re not sure where to find what you are looking for. But your path takes you directly to your destination – a floor-length mirror.

Before you can chicken out, you face yourself… only to stare at Yeontan, Taehyung’s famous pomeranian. You scream but all you hear is a loud bark.

Jep, you’ve gone insane, you think and shift in front of the reflection. The dog’s eyes look just as frightened as you feel. Which – you guess – makes sense. The dog is you.

Maybe you’re just asleep. Yeah, that’s it! Why would you jump to the conclusion of death or insanity? You’re just not awake. Of course, maybe you fell asleep during a RUN marathon and your laptop is slowly overheating while you drool on your touchpad. Man, your neck will hurt like hell tomorrow.

You nod at Yeontan in the mirror as the fear leaves his eyes. You’re quite a bit ashamed of yourself while you retreat to the room you came from. Due to your height the view is limited but with a craned neck you make out a soft bed, a desk overflowing with energy drinks and scribbled papers, and a dark wooden dresser. This must be Taehyung’s bedroom, you think.

The shame you felt moments ago is now mixed with embarrassment as you lay down in front of his bed. Yeah, this is just a dream, but it’s still really creepy of dream-you to come up with this scenario. Haven’t you heard anything about privacy? This is as close as one can come to being a sasaeng, you scold yourself. As soon as morning comes, you will have a serious talk with yourself. Maybe you’ll have to do a BTS detox. Yeah, a week without checking their Twitter will do you good.

Now all you have to do is sleep in your dream, so you’ll wake up with human hands. Wow, the bar is very low, you chuckle and close your eyes.

**

You awake with a confused yap leaving your mouth as you loose the ground under your body. Your eyes fly up and meet Taehyung’s stare. He looks deep in thoughts and places you onto the soft mattress of his bed.

“Why are you on the floor, Tannie?”, he asks with worry and fluffs the pillows next to you. “Why do I get the feeling you’re really, really mad at me?”

All you do is stare up at the idol who you’ve worshiped for close to five years. His hair is a cerulean blue and you try to remember the last pictures you saw of him – didn’t he have dark hair then? He must have recently dyed his hair, you think. The vibrant color suits him, his soft curls shifting lively while Taehyung walks up to his desk.

“The ground can’t be comfortable, baby”, he says and organizes some of the scattered papers. After that he begins to stack the empty cans of taurine; you count five of them and can’t help the shake of your head when Taehyung himself looks proud of his accomplishment. Doesn’t he know how unhealthy energy drinks are?

Soon he walks back to you – some of the papers in his hands – and sits down right next to your figure. The man places the sheets behind him before he pets your head.

“What did I do, baby?”, he whines as he doesn’t get the reaction he expected. Taehyung didn’t do anything wrong; you are the fault in this moment. You – a fellow 95-liner, an ARMY, a Yoongi stan, a hard-working university student – are definitely not his dog. But you can’t deny the pleasure sparked by his soft touch. You can feel his fingers moving through your thick fur. You are so going to hell for this, you think as you begin to hum.

The idol chuckles and continues his pets and you begin to enjoy every rub of your ears. You don’t notice the movement at first, but soon you feel the warmth of his tights. You must have shifted closer to his person while he continues to praise you with words and touches. Now, you are neatly pressed against his shorts and Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to pick you up and drop you on his lap.

“There, that’s better than the cold floor, right?”, he says and you squirm a bit while you try to get into a comfortable position on his tights. Much like you’d imagined, the idol has a defined body, so his quads present you with a firm ground to lay down.

Still, you long for the floor just so you don’t have to feel the shame traveling across your body. You’re not going to hell for this, not even the devil will want such a freak in his midst. But as you look into Taehyung’s dark eyes you can’t bring yourself to jump off his lap. His iris is lit with content while he watches your slow breathing. He is excited to have you – his pup – close to him.

So, this is not a dream, you conclude. Which dream would have a napping sequence within? And not to mention how real his body feels underneath you. You try to eliminate any chances as you try to bite yourself in the paw. Ouch, you whine with a throaty whimper.

“What are you doing, Yeontan?”, Taehyung exclaims in surprise. He moves your nose away with one hand while he cradles your assaulted paw in his other. The idol inspects your leg with care and crouches down. His stomach is now pressed against your back as you feel his hair right next to your ear. It tickles you, but at the same time the strong scent of his shampoo that invades your nose calms you down fast. The thick odor of roses is all consuming as you begin to understand why dogs are used during drug searches. Their scenting ability is freighting incredible. You can’t help the whimper that escapes your mouth as you press your face against his soft hair.

His curls smell like security and you try to get closer to his hairline while Taehyung is still trying to examine the damage.

“Don’t hurt yourself, baby”, he scolds you and turns his head so he can kiss your black fur. Now that you can look directly in his eyes you feel lost in the depth of their color.

All you manage to do is nod your head in a nonverbal promise. Taehyung smiles at your obedience and places a second kiss right behind your ear. This must be a pretty vulnerable spot for his pup because you can’t help but close your eyes in bliss.

So, this is definitely not a dream; maybe this is some unnatural body switch. But even as you think about it you can’t imagine Yeontan waking up in your human body. He sure is smart, but surviving a pre-med class? Or dear god, even driving to university would be a nightmare as you imagine the cute pomeranian behind a wheel.

But what happened to Taehyung’s dog if you’re right now cuddling up to his owner? Did you… did you eliminate a poor puppy? No, you think as you can feel your tiny heart beating abnormally fast. There is no way that Yeontan is not safe and sound somewhere.

The idol notices your anxiety and holds you tighter. You try to think of a more helpful strategy instead of imagining the infamous dog sitting somewhere dark, all alone. No, you’ll focus on getting out of this situation. And that means getting more information, any kind as to the date.

You didn’t travel space, body and time, you decide while your stare is fixated on his bright hair color. You distinctly remember him with faded blondish strands the last time you saw airport pictures at the beginning of the week. And there is no way in hell you would have missed such a… vibrant phase of Taehyung’s hair evolution. Even though he is not your bias, his appearance is always such a sight.

You mean you’re imprisoned in an animal body, who – you are sure you’ve read that somewhere – does not see colors clearly. Still your eyes rest on the blue, it’s intensity rivaling Taehyung’s stare which is fixated on your small figure.

The idol doesn’t know what is wrong with his pup today, but he takes your interest in him as a good sign. With your focus solely on him, he move the both of you without your notice. So it’s no wonder you flinch when you do note your changed position.

Taehyung has pushed the both of you farther into the bed until his upper body leans against a few pillows. He is not lying completely flat, but this is definitely more horizontal than before. Now you are placed on his stomach, your front paws right on his chest. You feel your body being lifted up and down due to his breathing and observe the idol from your new vantage point.

Now that your instant shock has left you, you finally see the tired lines under his eyes, how every movement of his face looks slower than normal. Your idol looks exhausted, you think and remember the gym bag he had with him as he left the apartment.

Huh, he must have been working out. You shift around slightly to test your theory and would have blushed – if you were able to – at the firmness under your feet. Jup, definitely a work out.

Taehyung groans in response and pushes you off his chest. Your landing is cushioned by the thick blanket, but you still sound like a hurt child with the yelp that leaves your mouth.

“Tannie… don’t be mean”, he whines and rubs his chest. “After two hours of weightlifting with Kookie everything is sore.”

And before you even think about apologizing – in some form – the idol tries to lift himself up. There is real pain twisting his face muscle. And then he is pulling off his t-shirt. Lord have mercy, you cry, closing your eyes. But the damage is done; his well defined honey colored chest forever burned into your memory.

“Come on, let’s sleep”, he says with a suppressed yawn in his voice while he falls back against the pillow mountain behind him. Again, you don’t have any time to escape before his long fingers grasp your body and cuddle you against his bare chest.

Your fur is trickling his chin, but instead of pushing you farther away, Taehyung presses you closer. You hear a content moan slip between his lips as he inhales your scent. His slowed heartbeat calms you down in moments. The only sounds in the now darkened bedroom are his deep breaths against your fur and your short huffs. You will your inner thoughts to stop screaming at yourself – the constant yelling to take action, to stop enjoying the closeness of the idol, is making your tired brain frail. Being a dog is taking a toll on you; the constant surprises are quite tiresome.

There is nothing you can do right now. Tomorrow presents possibility, maybe Taehyung will be gone again. His schedule must be tight. The hair color is your first clue that a comeback must be around the corner. And working out with Jungkook? No man would welcome that pain if there is not some higher reason behind it.

So, the idol must have a packed day which presents you with much needed time and room to explore. You try to be engulfed with Taehyung’s presence, something your body recognizes as home. When you will yourself just enough, you can abstract your person from this situation. This is a dog owner with his pup. It’s not abnormal that you sleep together. Right, you nod and fall asleep with Taehyung’s heartbeat in your ear.

**

You stare at the sleeping idol as you feel the warmth of the morning sun on your fur. Taehyung looks like a statue, the occasional deep breaths the only evidence of his living state. You’ve been up for a long time – or it just feels like a long time. But doesn’t it always when you have to pee?

Still, you can’t seem to disturb the blue haired boy in front of you. His features are as soft as your pillow which makes him look so young you would have cooed if you could. All the exhaustion has vanished from is face and there is no way you want to ruin this peaceful quiet.

But your bladder is screaming at you and this body is too new to estimate how urgent it is. Going from how heavy your stomach feels and how difficult it gets to suppress your whines, you think there is no other way. You don’t want to pee in Kim Taehyung’s bed while he’s asleep. That’s just not an acceptable way to start your day… in the body of a dog.

Before the helpless noise can escape your throat, the door of his bedroom opens. Your head snaps to the opened space, the animal instincts taking over, only to face a woman looking at you with a kindhearted smile.

“Oh, my boys”, she whispers so quietly you’re sure the human next to you hadn’t heard her.

Then she steps into the room and walks to the bed. With practiced care she starts to pet your head. The woman looks old enough to be Taehyung’s mother. You’re kind of proud of yourself for not obsessing over the idol so much, you’d recognize his parents.

Rich coming from the person who could recognize Yoongi's brother in seconds, a voice scolds in your head and you roll your eyes at the mockery.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Tannie?”

Well, not the first impression you wanted to leave with his mother. Soft licks against her wrist seem to be apology enough as she shakes her head.

“You’re forgiven. Let’s get you out for a walk, little one. This boy needs all the sleep he can get”, she explains like you’d understand her while lifting you off the bed.

The oh so silent idol groans as he feels the absence of your warmth. But a look confirms your suspicion that Taehyung hasn’t woken up. He still rests against the bedding and if your bladder wasn’t alarmingly present in your mind, you’d demanded to lie back down with him.

The woman closes the door with a click behind you and Taehyung’s frame vanishes from your eyesight. Immediately your discomfort is heightened, now that you have all your focus on it.

She coos at your desperate whimpers and fastens her steps. Soon the both of you are out of the door – a stylish harness around your upper body. The woman chuckles at you dancing in front of her by hopping fast from side to side.

The outdoors confirms another suspicion; you are in Seoul. The green around you crashs into your nose with thousands of smells – the scrambled eggs from a breakfast bagel, the thick sweat of some morning joggers, two… no three… other dogs and the faint fumes from the cars to your left. You yap happily as you run to the nearest tree to do your business.

You don’t know how long your walk takes, but you see so many things your brain feels heavy with discoveries. The fellow puppy who barked at you left you feeling sad. Then some pedestrians feeding you a grape cheers you up so much, you don’t focus enough and nearly crash into a bike. The woman screamed at you in horror which embarrassed you.

All the mood swings tier you out fast, so you’re sighing in relief when you make out the familiar building. Taehyung’s mother chatted with you as if you were a friend, her topics circling around a dinner with colleagues and some important business conference she has to join tomorrow. Then she talked about Taehyung’s stamina being tested with this comeback and how she worries about her son. That’s when you get the confirmation about their relation.

You dash around her feet as to not seem too invested in her storytelling. You are a dog after all. A dog that’s now extra worried about its owner. She lets you into the apartment and you smell him before you see the idol sprinting to the entrance.

“Mum, you didn’t have to”, Taehyung says and crouches down in front of you. His eyes shine with excitement as he picks you up – not even taking off the harness beforehand – and crushes you to his chest.

He must have showered; his strong scent clouded by the fresh smell of sandalwood. Nevertheless, you recognize him and press your nose closer to his neck. There his smell is still pure and you huff in content.

“Was my baby good?”, he asks his mother while bouncing you around, moving straight to the kitchen.

“Tannie was a good boy”, she answers and winks at you out of Taehyung’s eyesight. You wink back and see the surprise in her eyes before Taehyung demands your attention.

“I made you breakfast, Tannie”, he sings and drops you to the floor, but only after squeezing you against him one last time. There, right next to the table, sits a ceramic bowl filled with some kibbles and cut strawberries.

They must be from Seokjin – his oldest member. He is sharing them with you, which warms your heart remembering all the behind the scenes clips where he declared his love for the sweet fruit.

You dash to your food, not looking back at the idol who smiles into his green tea as he watches you devour your meal. You seem to be in a better mood this morning, he notices in relief. Still, your weird acting from yesterday is on his mind and he starts to think… maybe…

“Ah, you know what, Tannie?”, Taehyung exclaims and you flinch at his boastful tone. Your mouth is decorated with crumbles while you swallow the unique food down and look at the idol.

“You'll come with me today!” Say what? “It’ll be so much fun!” For whom? You barely survived your morning walk without being killed by a bike. “You’ll get to see the MV set!” At what cost? The last shred of your sanity? “And you can catch up with the hyung!” Well, who are you to deny your owner?

**

“Seok?”, Taehyung asks as a stylist twists his curled hair into position. Both him and Hoseok sit in front of a mirrored wall, getting ready for the first round of promotion shoots. The blue haired idol is dressed in a comfortable pink bathrobe with decorative feathers around his neck. His eyes are focused on his older friend while the rapper’s nose is buried in his smartphone.

“Hmm?”

“Do dogs get depressed?”

Now Taehyung has his undivided attention. The iPhone is neglected as Hoseok stares at the singer. “Come again?”

Taehyung’s face turns sour. “Yeontan is acting strange.” As if to make a point, the idol motions his head in your direction. You are very much distracted by all the colorful pastels around you. Your eyes try to capture every single detail, the dimmed lights, the relaxed outfits of everyone and the seven most famous idols clustered in the space.

Avoiding any of their faces, afraid they’d pay you attention, you’re clinging to the staff member who holds you secure in her arms. The Army in you is delighted at the insight you are getting, so it’s no wonder your tail is wagging fast.

“He doesn’t even want to sit with me”, Taehyung whines. “Yesterday he slept on the floor. The floor, hyung!”

“Maybe he feels abandoned?”, Hoseok offers, remembering all the times Mickey would ignore him after the end of a successful tour overseas. “You are prepping hard for this comeback. We all are.”

Taehyung nods deep in thoughts. Are you feeling neglected? Taehyung was always under the impression that between him, his parents and the dog walker you’re well taken care of. But maybe you did miss him due to his late practices. Maybe you both need some alone time?

“Maybe you should sign him up for an idol pet support group?”, the maknae chimes in as he plows down on the couch next to the make-up station. Taehyung has to chuckle as he remembers yesterday’s therapy idea.

“Or maybe I’ll just cancel our work out tonight”, he teases and Jungkook huffs outraged.

“But look at your chest, Tae! Don’t stop now!” The youngest sounds more like a motivational speaker than his friend and Taehyung shakes his head, now that the stylist has stepped away satisfied with Taehyung’s appearance. “Maybe tomorrow, Kookie.”

**

You are still fascinated by the set as the staff moves around pointing out some of the props as if you were a toddler instead of a puppy. You listen with interest, your ears pointed close to her lips so you don’t miss any kind of information. This comeback looks like the biggest they have ever done. And if you understand her mentions right, an American singer will be featured as well. You can’t suppress the excited pants escaping your mouth.

Before long the idols are called on the set, all of them dressed in soft fabric and most of them with bright smiles on their faces. Just Yoongi and Taehyung look a bit distracted. While the rapper is inhaling his iced americano, the singer looks around the set until his eyes meet your glistering stare. He can see you squirming in the staff’s arms as you try to get closer to his members. He chuckles softly, not really understanding your mood swings. During the car ride here, he couldn’t recognize his puppy. You were shaking like a rattlesnake. If he didn’t know better he’d have thought you were never in a car before. As soon as you guys arrived on set, you were quick to abandon him in favor if the female staff who didn’t hesitate to pick you up.

Taehyung shakes his head and lets a professional smile slip on his lips. It’s time to perform his money’s worth. Immediately the photographer greets them before he and his nervous assistant move the idols around the small prepped bathroom. Taehyung’s gets to kneel in the front, his face closest to the camera lens. He tries not to check on you too often, but as soon as the photographer changes his equipment, his eyes rest on your moving figure. You escaped the staff member and are now roaming around the set with your nose pressed to every object within reach.

You look like you are on a treasure hunt or a RUN episode and he – endeared – smiles at you.

“We’ll take a short break; good work, boys!”, the man behind the camera exclaims and some of the staff clap, proud that everything is going smoothly today. Taehyung steps away from the group to move closer to you. Suddenly he crouches down, getting your attention in milliseconds.

You really were trying to ignore your favorite idols, their constant laughter too much for your fangirling heart. But then you see the shock of blue hair in your peripheral vision. And without any control of your body, your eyes move to Taehyung, who is only a feet away. He smiles when he feels your attention on him and motions for you to join him. Again, you do not even think and spring to the idol with tiny but quick steps. Suddenly your paws do not touch the ground anymore and you japs in fright. With a craned neck you make out the corners of a gummy grin.

Yoongi has captured you mere inches away from your owner and your eyes get bigger by the second. The Min Yoongi is holding you. Your favorite rapper, the inspiration to many of your own writings, is embracing your body. You want to giggle so badly, but there is only a chortled howl escaping your throat.

“Yaaaah”, Taehyung whines with layered jealousy as he watches how his own puppy is trapped under the spell of his grumpy colleague. You don’t even notice the others approaching – you try to memorize every detail of your bias. His cheeks are full and so is your heart, concluding that he eats well.

“Get your own damn dog to set”, Taehyung scolds and earns a slap on the back from his leader. Soon Jungkook’s hands are buried in your fur and you purr in bliss.

“Who is the best doggy?”, Jimin asks in his best baby voice and gets between Yoongi’s and your face – simultaneously blocking your sight of the rapper.

“Don’t answer that, Tannie!”, the oldest chimes in and pets your head as he looms over the smallest member. “It’s a trap. Jimini loves Holly like his own.”

What? How can the vocalist choose Yoongi’s puppy over you? You are… uhm you mean Yeontan is… adorable. Your eyebrows furrow in displeasure and you try to move away from Jimin.

“Is… is he pouting?”, Hoseok asks fascinated by your facial expression. Taehyung points at your eyebrow, pushing it into a more relaxed position with mocked force.

“See?!”, your owner exclaimed, “Tannie is going through stuff.”

Some of Bangtan chuckle while Taehyung wrestles you away from the rapper. The distance to your bias grows as the singer presses you closer to his chest, cradling you to his body and hiding you from his members at the same time.

“That’s why I’m skipping cardio tonight”, he states and buries his nose in your dark fur.

“You have to be kidding”, Namjoon mutters and tries to get Taehyung’s attention. “Yah, you can’t just not go to practice because you… you think Tannie is having his blue period or something.”

“What does Taehyung’s hair have to do with his pup?”, the youngest asks innocently. Yoongi groans and your owner hides his chuckle in your fur.

“It’s a term to describe Picasso's depression evident in his… blue paintings”, the leader explains with patience and vows to lend the maknae his art book.

“But… look!!”, Taehyung whines and thrusts you without warning in Namjoon's face. You can practically hear him groan a ‘Tannie, work with me on this’ while you are inches away from Kim Namjoon.

Maybe it’s being in a dog’s body for too long or maybe it’s his owner’s craziness rubbing off on you, but you start to grimace at the most famous leader in kpop history. Your nostrils flare while your mouth shifts into a maddened smile. At the same time you try to wink like you did this morning at Taehyung’s mother. To top everything off, you extend one of your paws in a mock salute and wiggle your tail.

Namjoon’s expression moves from annoyance to concern as he watches you going completely crazy. “Take as much time as you need”, he allows and backs away from you. “Maybe check in with a vet as well.”

**

After a long nap and another meal you feel relaxed as Taehyung carries you up the stairs. The rest of the shooting went smoothly and you could even hear some of the title track being played in the background. And now it’s nearly night, but still Taehyung moves with purpose farther away from his bedroom, taking two stairs at the same time to get closer to his studio. Punishing in the code – a combination of his and Jimin’s birthdays – he opens the door and lets you in his most private space. He has never taken Yeontan to his painting room. Sometimes he would share a photographed piece with his pup. But never was there an impulse to include his four-legged friend into this part of his life. Until now – now Taehyung wanted his dog to understand him, really understand him.

And how to better understand the artist than by looking at his art? With jittery hands he drops you on the floor. “Welcome”, the idol greets you with enthusiasm and spreads his arms. “This is my studio!”

You look around and take in all the different sizes canvases. Some of them are colored with abstract patterns, most of them in deep vibrant pallets. Then there are some paintings with bodily shapes, harsh black lines illustrating different parts of female and male torsos. A canvas stand is pushed to one corner of the room. It seems like Taehyung does not enjoy painting with it, because he moves a blank canvas from behind a shelf straight onto the ground.

Soon he has collected some oil paint next to it as well as some washed brushes. Taehyung has been focused solely on gathering up all the needed utilities. But now as he plops onto the floor, the artist pats the place right beside him. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

With hesitant steps you move closer to him while the guilt rises in your heart. Taehyung wants to share this with his puppy, not you. This is far more private than his mother spilling family secrets during your walk. This is him being completely open and you are not sure you can take what he is oh so willing to offer.

Still, you can’t deny the idol who looks more like a puppy with his widened eyes than you do. Halting next to him you focus on the blank white in front of you. Taehyung stills and takes in your soothing presents. The last weeks have been pure madness and he knows how tight his schedules is getting as soon as Boy with Luv drops. So he tries to memorize this moment. With a deep breath he grasps one of the brushes and squeezes some midnight blue paint on his mixed pallet. You watch his hand stroke bold lines across the canvas – fascinated by the stark contrast. Taehyung starts to hum; his deep voice relaxes you even more and you lie down – your head is resting on Taehyung’s tights in support.

For a long time he paints in silence, but after the night sky is done, he starts to talk to you about the most random things. The idol begins with a harsh complaint about his hair color, the bright dye hurting his skull. After that he jumps from thought to thought, not caring for coherency. The painter praises Yoongi’s stage for his solo track, an excited gleam in his eyes as he proudly proclaims that he mastered the background dance steps to Seesaw. Then he remembers the late-night drinking with Hoseok’s sister weeks ago; how it was the last time he let go and drank more than his stomach could handle. The longing for walking with you comes next. Taehyung misses your outings, the joy in your tiny steps when you race each other, how protective he feels when he carries you in his bag.

You are now more than ever reminded that you’re here by default. This is not an idol talking to his devoted fan; this is an honest man talking to an imposer. And when you see the happiness in his movements as the painter adds bright stars to his sky, you deep down know your time is running out. There is no way any kind of higher power would harm this man by taking away the companion he cares so much for.

As if Taehyung can sense your darkened mood, he shifts his knees pushing you off his tights in the process. You whine in displeasure but he is quick to act. Suddenly you feel wetness on your paw and look down. Taehyung has moved your leg to the mixed pallet. He gently presses your paw into the white paint. You flinch at the weird feeling which makes the idol coo.

“Hold still, little pup”, Taehyung sooths while he cleans off some white that sticks to your fur. Then he looks at you with a blank expression, making you squirm.

“So, this is important, Tannie”, he starts to explain, “you’ll help me finish this piece.”

And then he places your painted paws on the canvas. A shudder runs down your back as you connect the dots and feel the pressure of painting for the idol. You got this, you hype yourself up and inhale his scent before moving across the painting with purpose.

Ten minutes and two baths in paint later you can definitely say that you did not in fact get it. The flower field you tried to create looks more abstract than accurate. Some petals are blended together, presenting wet spots instead of filigree plants. Embarrassed you face the painter ready to get scolded. But Taehyung looks at the canvas with awe in his eyes.

“We are… brilliant”, the idol breathes and before you can scoff at this blunt lie, he tackles you and presses your body close to his chest. A whine escapes you as you feel your paws pressing against the skin on his arm. The paint hasn’t fully dried and you can see the outline of your print in white on his skin. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind that much, more focused on breathing in the smell right behind your ear. You do the same, nuzzling your nose against his neck and relax more and more. You notice how slow your breathing gets before you fall asleep.

**

“Come on, ________, this lecture is not optional!”, your roommate screams you awake. You open your eyes and stare at the familiar face of your friend, his hand sassy on his hip.

“No time to admire me, get it moving”, he stresses and pushes your warm blanket away, revealing your sun kissed legs.

“I’ve got toes!” The man in front of you musters you, now more concerned than mad.

“You okay, ______?”

But all you can do is stare at your legs and test your flexibility. Then you touch your arms in wonder and ruff a hand through your thick hair.

Faster than your roommate can call for a doctor, you jump out of bed, landing on your feet, before you grab him by the arms and squeeze his biceps in joy. “Look how tall I am!”, you exclaim, no longer having to crane your neck to look at people.

Your roommate vows to keep an eye on you as you are acting weirder than normal, which is really saying something. He remembers how embarrassed he was at the last costume party. You were dressed as an ARMY bomb, wiggling around to the music. Or how you dressed as a cheesecake for Halloween. You’d drop to the ground every time someone questioned your dress up. “I dropped the cheesecake”, you’d howl more impressed with you than ever.

But now you’re looking at the mirror and touching your cheeks as if you just invented your dimples. Yeah, definitely worrisome, he thinks and pushes you into the bathroom.

“Time management, _____.”

As you sit on the closed toilet seat you try to ground your emotions. You are back and your smartwatch tells you that you haven’t even missed a day. Judging by your unharmed appearance, all you did in the last thirteen hours was sleep. But your nose oh so vibrantly remembers Taehyung’s smell, your eyes can still recall him looking at you, painting with you, cutting strawberries for you.

It takes a moment before you notice how fast you’re breathing. There is a panic attack coming and you can’t think of any way to stop it. All your emotions are rushing through your body as you start to cry hysterically, mourning memories too crazy to keep.

**

It takes days before you stop counting your fingers every time you wake up. It takes weeks before you click on the MV for their next comeback. You act surprised by his blue curls as your roommate screams in excitement. Only after a month you are detached enough to click on Taehyung’s newest v live. This time your surprise is genuine as you spot the tattooed paw on his wrist.

__

ah!! i hope you guys liked that! i had sooo much fun writing this, so maybe you enjoyed it as well! let me know what you think! stay safe and happy, dana

taglist: @slothiestuff​ @portableusbstick​

[alpacaparkaseok]

7 Secrets <pt. 11>

GENRE: Soulmate!au BTS!

WARNINGS: whole lot of uwu that’s what

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

I just...no words. I’ve been wanting to get to this point for a hot minute now, so I’m glad we’ve made it. No, this isn’t quite the end. Although we’re getting there. *cue tears* Have a happy halloween this weekend! <3

By the time we make it back to the house it’s nearly evening, seeing as Jin decided to take a detour and get lost. Kyung-soon didn’t mind, she took the opportunity to re-listen to Seventeen’s new album. And then listen to it again.

We’re nearly there when we get a call from Taehyung. Jin puts it on the car speakerphone.

“Hyung! Where are you?”

“We’ve been lost, that’s where-” Jin cuts Kyung-soon off with glare.

“We were hiking and enjoying the island. We’ll be there in ten minutes. Are you guys getting ready to eat?”

As if on cue my stomach growls. Our last meal was this morning, and the granola bars have only held up for so long.

“Yeah, we’re finishing up with the food now. Guess what we’re doing tonight, though?”

A few voices can be heard in the background. It sounds like utter chaos at the house. The sound of it brings a smile to my face.

“What? What are we doing?”

“Production team just finished editing the final episode! We’re going to project it on the side of the house and watch it!”

I nearly choke, Kyung-soon turning around and staring at me in horror. Namjoon chuckles, patting me on the back while I recover.

“That was...fast.” I mumble. The production crew must have been working overtime in order to finish up the final episode so we could watch it on our trip.

Kyung-soon is in the middle of involuntarily cringing. “Oh no, this is going to be horrible. So cringey.”

I nod in agreement, Jin reaching over to grab Kyung-soon’s hand. The houses pop up in the distance - we’re almost there.

“Just pretend that it’s somebody else,” Jin tries to reassure his soulmate. “I promise, it’s really not bad. We were thoroughly entertained.” He grins at Namjoon through the rear-view mirror.

“Yeah, and besides, you guys have seen plenty of weird content from us. Consider this an even playing field.” Namjoon adds.

“Ok, I’ll see you - huh? Oh, Ichika says hi. Alright, see you in a second.” Taehyung cuts the call.

↔

The side of the boys’ house has turned into a temporary movie screen. Taehyung is in the process of popping popcorn while Jungkook and Jimin are giving a detailed overview of three years worth of episodes.

I think they’ve forgotten that we were very much a part of those three years. After all, it is a documentary about us.

Aera sits beside Minsuh, the two of them grinning like cheshire cats at their soulmates. They look like they’re thinking the same thing that I am.

“Yah, so where did the last episode leave off?” Aera questions, raising her eyebrows at Jimin.

“What, you don’t remember what happened two weeks ago?” Himari asks, chuckling.

Aera shrugs her shoulders. “It’s been a busy week for all of us, I can hardly remember what happened two days ago.”

Namjoon emerges from the house, a couple of blankets in hand. His eyes scan the small crowd before landing on me where I stand beside Seohyun. I’ve been trying to get a feel for how her and Yoongi’s conversation went earlier, but I don’t dare ask anything too direct with Yoongi right there. He holds her hand, looking content as she explains how she tried and failed at painting.

“Where did the last episode leave off, Joon-ah?” Hoseok asks when Jimin and Jungkook have a hard time remembering the finer details. Namjoon is in the process of spreading a blanket out on the ground, motioning for me to come over.

“Umm…” He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Aera had just pitched her new designs, and everybody made dinner for her when she got home. Then they were just getting Beth’s room ready for her to come back.”

Aera blinks as though just remembering that she has an actual job. A job she’s really, really good at.

“I can’t believe you forgot about that!” Aera feigns offense and Jimin freezes in his spot, eyes wide. “That’s my whole career we’re talking about, Jimin!”

Jungkook gives his friend a pat on the shoulder before walking over to plop into the seat beside Minsuh.

“I-I remember it now…” Jimin pouts, looking at his soulmate with puppy eyes. Aera glares at him, never one to give in easily. In fact, Aera is the fiercest when it comes to these kinds of things.

If I remember correctly, I’ve heard the boys state on several occasions that Jimin is absolutely terrifying when he’s mad.

“Hey,” Namjoon grabs my attention from the show up front. “Wanna sit? I got us an extra blanket for if we get cold.”

“Perfect.” I settle down on the blanket, laughing as Jimin tries his best to escape Aera’s wrath. She’s currently moving his chair to the opposite end, as far away from her as possible.

Minsuh turns around to look at me, her eyebrows wiggling mischievously. “Are you ready for this cringefest?”

Namjoon chuckles, settling down beside me. The butterflies in my stomach kick things up into high gear just from sitting beside him. He checks the time on his phone, his new background pulling my attention away for a moment.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I sigh. Namjoon places a comforting hand on my knee, smiling at me when he realizes that I’m looking at his lock screen.

“It really is that bad usually. I swear.” I roll my eyes, knowing a lie when I hear one. “Hey,” he nudges me. “Let’s see your new phone background.”

I excitedly fish my phone out of my pocket, already chuckling at the thought of our candid photo. Showing it to Namjoon, Minsuh and Jungkook wander over to see what we’re laughing about.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!” Minsuh gushes, laughing at me. “I’m guessing you learned today that Beth is terrified of heights?”

Namjoon nods, shooting me a pitiful look. “I sure did. I’m pretty sure she bruised one of my ribs in the process.”

Jungkook proceeds to ask Namjoon about the hike, sounding like he wants to venture out there tomorrow. Jin and Kyung-soon come back out with Tae and Ichika, all of them carrying a couple of bowls each filled to the brim with popcorn.

“Movie time!” Jimin shouts from where he and Aera disappeared around the house. A moment later he appears with his chair in one hand and lugging a disgruntled Aera along with the other.

As soon as all the popcorn is distributed Yoongi flips on the projector from the back. A moment later the song “Psycho” by RedVelvet blasts through the speakers, and the episode begins.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe they actually made that the theme song!” Seohyun shouts, already laughing as she and Minsuh appear on screen. Little title cards appear above their heads from where they study in the library, lost in their textbooks. I grin, all of this appearing a little surreal.

“I can’t believe we actually have a theme song!” Himari says. She’s the next one in the opening credits, trying and failing to flip a pancake. “Oh, come on, that’s how they introduce me?” Hoseok laughs beside her, his eyes darting from the screen back to his soulmate.

Next is Ichika, and I notice Taehyung scooting a little closer to her and she hides behind her hands. She’s opening the door to the apartment, her lopsided smile greeting the cameraman as she invites the cameras inside.

“This is the best part!” Jimin shouts.

The cameras follow Ichika inside the apartment and catch their next victim for the opening credits: Aera.

She’s clearly in a rush, probably running late for work. Careening down the stairs she freezes once she sees the camera, quickly pushing her hair out of her face as she waves before rushing out the door.

“See, told you it was the best part,” Jimin mumbles, Aera dissolving into a fit of giggles beside him.

Namjoon scoots closer, adjusting so that his right shoulder is just behind me. “Ready for the next part?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

Kyung-soon and I appear on screen, and I can hear my friend groaning from where she sits with Jin. We share a look across the way.

We’re sitting on the couch in the living room, locked in an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. Kyung-soon wins, and she throws her hands up in triumph right as our title cards appear. I get up wordlessly, walking straight out the door.

Despite how strange it is to be watching the documentary after all this time, I find myself shaking with laughter. Maybe we are kind of entertaining to watch, after all.

“Do you remember what we were playing for?” Kyung-soon asks me.

“I think it was over who had to call the takeout place.”

She laughs, returning her attention to the screen. I find myself avidly watching as well.

Episode basically from here until just before the end, enjoy! (actions/dialogue in real time will appear in as normal text, whereas the documentary is in italics)

Himari and Aera sit in the kitchen, both of them staring down at their breakfast. Himari glances up at Aera, noticing her worried expression.

“I’m sure they’ll call you soon. Anybody who turns you down is a complete idiot.”

Aera nods, not saying anything. Jimin reaches out to hold Aera’s hand. Minsuh comes in from down the hall, stretching.

“Morning,” she says around a yawn. “Any news A?”

Himari answers for her friend. “Not yet. What do you have going on today?”

Minsuh reaches for a bowl, waving at the kitchen camera like she does every morning. “Nothing much. I think Seohyun and I are going to study for a while, she’s going to help me prep for an exam I’ve got coming up. What about you guys?”

“Ichika and I have lessons. Want to join us, Aera? Brush up on your Japanese?”

“No,” Aera shakes her head. “I’m going to start getting Beth’s room ready.”

“Oh!” Himari grabs her phone from her back pocket. “That reminds me, I have to call that little punk.”

I gasp at Himari, my friend giving me a shy smile and shrugging.

Himari places the phone on speaker while the other two girls quietly eat their food and wait for me to answer.

“Was this the day before I flew out?” I ask no one in particular.

“Yeah, I think so.” Himari responds. Suddenly my voice cuts through the audio, and I physically cringe. Namjoon chuckles, reaching a hand up to steady me as I rock back against his chest.

“I knew you were going to call me,” I say, and Himari rolls her eyes while Minsuh snickers. “What’s up?”

“Are you all packed and ready to go?” Himari asks.

“Yeah, I think so. My flight leaves in...six hours. I’ll start heading to the airport in a couple of hours so I get there on time.”

“Hey, when’s the last time you logged anything?”

It’s silent on my side of the line for a while. “Er...a while.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“No, probably not.”

“Well this is me calling you and telling you to do your log before you leave. BigHit sent us some of those questions, answer them if you don’t know what to say.” My voice starts to cut in but Himari cuts me off. “I mean it! If you don’t I’m making sure you sleep on the couch when you get here.”

My sigh is audible, Aera looks up at Minsuh with the ghost of a smile.

“Ok, will do. I’ll log it as soon as I get off this call. How is everybody?”

Minsuh pipes up. “Hey Beth! We’re good!”

“Am I on speaker? Hey Min! Who else is there?”

“Just me,” Aera says, leaning closer to the phone. “I’m about to clean up your room so there aren’t any cobwebs. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, B. I miss you.”

“Aw, I miss you too A. You don’t have to worry about my room...but make sure nobody has stolen my Jeju Island photo. Where’s everybody else?”

The camera jumps to another location, answering my very question. Kyung-soon is walking up to a nice looking apartment, double checking some files before kindly greeting a couple. She must have had a client.

Again the camera jumps, this time to a different continent where I’m settling down before my camera as I record my first log in months. I’m sitting at my kitchen island in my apartment back in the states, a picture of all the girls and I hanging on the wall behind me.

“Hello camera, it’s me again. Sorry for not logging in a while, I’ve been busy. And now I’m about to leave in a couple of hours to catch my flight to Seoul.” I look at my phone before me, reading something off of it. “This will be pretty quick, but I’ve got some of the questions BigHit sent me, so I’ll try to answer a few before I have to leave. Sound good?”

I scroll through the list of questions, eyebrows furrowed as I try to find a good one. “Hmm, it looks like these have gotten more and more personal over the years. I guess I’ll go with this one: ‘what do you look forward to the most returning to Seoul?’”

Shuffling in my seat I bite my lip as I stare down the camera. “I think I just get excited to be back with everybody. I know I don’t usually say anything like this, but I really miss them when I’m gone. I’m kind of stranded out here in the states. It’s hard to be here and know that all six of them get to stay together while I jump around from place to place. At least I’ll get to stay for a solid six months this time around, maybe more. Just depends.”

Namjoon fidgets behind me until he’s directly behind me. Slowly he pulls me back against his chest until I’m laying with my head tucked under his chin.

“Wow, this one’s intense. Should I just answer it? I doubt anybody will actually ever watch this. I feel like my logs are pretty boring. It says, ‘if you could go back and say anything to yourself three years ago, what would you say?’”

I lean back against my chair, pushing my hair out of the way. “I’m not sure I would really say much. There was just so much going on, it was information overload. I remember when I woke up the next morning, I thought everything was a dream. My sister had no clue, so I just left her a note and left our hotel to go on a run.” I laugh a little, recalling the memory. “I probably looked so crazy! This white girl running around Seoul like a maniac. I finally got to a point where I stopped, and finally was starting to calm down. Then, ha! Oh my gosh I remember this like it was yesterday, seriously. I checked my phone and saw that I had a notification from Weverse. It said ‘RM commented on so and so’s post’ and I lost it. Right there in the middle of this random park I started bawling. I was so overwhelmed.”

Namjoon’s grip tightens on me, and I take a deep breath. I’d honestly forgotten that I’d even done this log, I really didn’t think they’d put it into the documentary.

“So if I could go back to three years ago, I think I’d go to that moment and just give myself a hug. I was so terrified and had nobody to talk to. I’d hug myself, and say, you figure out how to keep moving forward. Just enjoy the ride, because it’s a crazy one.”

The screen fades out, my voice still narrating as I talk over the others girls’ actions. Kyung-soon is helping that couple to sign some paperwork.

“It’s definitely been crazy, but I’m better because of it.” I narrate and Kyung-soon gives an award winning smile to the couple, saying her goodbyes before heading back to her car.

Now we’re watching Minsuh laugh about something with Himari in the kitchen.

“I don’t want to think about where I’d be without my soul sisters, they mean so much to me. I really never thought I’d meet people as amazing as them in my life.”

Aera is in my room, sweeping and straightening my photo of Jeju Island.

“Sometimes I still wonder if there’s been a huge mistake and I’ll get a call from BigHit saying that I don’t actually have a soulmate. Things are so good that I think they may be too good.”

Seohyun jogs in a park, making faces at the camera each time she passes in front of it.

“But I’ll just keep living this dream for as long as fate will let me.”

Ichika struggles up the stairs to the apartment, grocery bags all over the place. The camera shakes as it’s set on the ground, and the cameraman assisting her.

“And as for the last question for this log… ‘if you could say a single sentence to your soulmate, what would you say?’”

Suddenly we’re back in my apartment, where I give a side smile to the camera.

“Hey Namjoon, wanna go out sometime?” Winking at the camera I lean up and turn it off.

The screen goes black, and then words cut across the screen.

Final Installment- Episode 132 “Finally.”

Everybody comes back to life as the introduction to the final episode ends and the rest of the episode starts up. Namjoon leans down to whisper in my ear.

“I’m sorry for making you cry in the park that morning.”

I shake my head. “I can’t believe you’re apologizing for that and not for trying to kill me earlier.”

My body shakes with Namjoon’s laugh, and we settle down to continue watching the documentary before us.

Kyung-soon stands in the living room with a huge mass of balloons before her. Minsuh comes up behind her, staring in awe.

“That’s a lot of balloons.”

Kyung-soon nods, biting her bottom lip. “Do you think it’s too much?”

“No, I think it looks great. Just, how are we going to get them into the car?”

“I have no idea.”

The two of them discuss possible game plans as Himari wanders in looking at her phone.

“Ok everyone! She’s over the ocean between us and Japan. We should probably get going. Wow,” she finally notices the balloons. “Looks good, Soon-ah. Don’t fly away, though. Seokjin would be so upset.”

Footsteps sound as the other three girls come in, each one’s attention going straight to the balloons.

“Ha! That’s amazing.” Ichika says. “She’s going to die when she sees that.”

The scene cuts to the airport, the girls anxiously waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Himari once again checks her phone for my flight information.

“It says that the flight landed fifteen minutes ago, she should be here any second.”

Aera nudges her. “Yah, you’re acting like your long lost lover has finally returned.”

Himari raises her eyebrows. “And?”

“Oh, there she is!” Seohyun shouts, and sure enough I appear on camera. Hat down low and a mask on I wave at everyone. A few people pause to look at all the commotion before continuing on.

Namjoon whispers to me again. “You look like a celebrity with your hat and mask.”

I chuckle, watching my reunion with the girls that only happened earlier this week. “I felt like one, too.”

My soulmate lets out a breathy laugh when the girls start teasing me, asking me what my reaction would be if he were the one to pick me up from the airport.

“You know, I’ve noticed that you’re really good at avoiding teasing.”

“I’ve had lots of practice.”

The documentary skips to our apartment, the girls hanging out in the living room debating whether or not to wake me up or let me sleep.

“I’m going to wake her up, she’s probably starving.” Aera says, and Minsuh follows her out of the room. The other girls remain in the room, Seohyun talking about one of her classes.

I nearly fall asleep in Namjoon’s arms, it’s so comfy. What brings me out of my stupor is the distinct sound of Seohyun’s rendition of “Mic Drop” and everybody laughing along with her.

I watch as we enjoy the show, Kyung-soon announcing to everyone that we’re going on ahead. Suddenly I jolt up, Namjoon jumping at the sudden movement. I remember what comes after this.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon asks. “Did you see a bug?”

“No…” My attention is pulled into the documentary as Kyung-soon and I quietly converse. “It’s just - that was a hard night for me. That’s all.”

I can feel Namjoon’s eyes assessing me but I refuse to look at him for fear of him seeing right through me.

“If you’re uncomfortable we can go inside,” he offers.

Finally I look over to him. He calmly returns my gaze, awaiting my answer.

“I think I’m fine for now. Just, don’t judge me, ok?”

Namjoon nods fervently. “Never.” Extending his arms out, he pulls me back into his chest. “Let me know if you want to leave, and we’ll go.”

Kyung-soon and I appear on the balcony of our apartment, where we both study the stars above us.

“I can’t-”

“You have to. Beth, please don’t lock us out and keep all of these feelings to yourself. You don’t have to tell us every little thing, but you need to talk about it. Just because you don’t say it out loud doesn’t mean that you won’t feel scared or worried anymore.”

The tension is palpable as my sobs cut through the silence. I’m pretty sure Namjoon stopped breathing.

“I look at our boys, and I feel like they’re already complete. They have each other, they have ARMY, they’re complete. They have no idea that soulmates are even a thing, let alone that they have soulmates. There’s a part of me that’s mad about that. Mad that for the last three years I’ve been waiting for a man that is already happy without me, that is already more loved that he can even fathom. Mad at freaking Mr. Bang, because he refuses to tell them until the ‘time is right’. It’s been three years! And I’ve picked myself back up and tried my hardest to continue on in my career, and it’s fulfilling. I have the most amazing friends in the world, my family is so loving and supportive, and I love my job. So why do I feel so lonely?”

Namjoon wraps his arms around me tightly, and I feel that strange ache in my chest again. This time, though, it aches and aches until it cracks. With it, come the tears.

Like a dam come undone the tears flow from my eyes as the echoes of my sobs from the documentary cut through the night. Namjoon holds me tighter, tighter until he’s all I can feel.

“You know what, come here.” Namjoon says, his voice thick. He stands, pulling me up with him. We’re near the back, so nobody really notices us as Namjoon pulls me away. He leads me around my beach house until we’re completely blocked from view. The audio from the documentary follows me, and I keep my eyes trained on the ground as the tears blur my vision.

Namjoon finally comes to a stop, his hands resting firmly on my shoulders. I can’t bring myself to look up at him, thoroughly humiliated at one of my most vulnerable moments being on full display.

“Beth, look at me.” I shake my head, angrily wiping away my tears. He reaches up to catch a tear as it rolls down my cheek. “Look at me. Please.”

Again I shake my head, completely mortified at the situation I’m in. Wasn’t this supposed to be a fun trip? Worry-free?

“Ok, that’s ok. You don’t have to.” Namjoon moves to grab my shoulders again. “I just need you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?”

I clench my teeth as I nod, trying so hard to keep in my sobs.

“Alright. I am so-” his voice cracks and he takes a moment before speaking again. “I am so sorry, Beth. For all of it. For making you feel that way. I wish - I just wish we could have avoided all that heartache and pain. You were so strong, for so long. You still are, I can see that. From the second we first met I saw that you are strong and the most incredible person to ever walk the earth. I might be a bit biased,” I croak out a laugh which seems to spur him on, “but nobody can change my mind about you. I was lonely, too. Did you know that? Even with all the love I receive every day, I’m still lonely. Do you know how infuriating that is?”

Steeling my nerves I peak up at him. My heart twists further when I see the tears running down my soulmate’s face. He continues on, paying them no mind.

“I felt like there was something so wrong with me, but I learned with time that it’s normal. Everybody feels lonely. It’s a horrible feeling, and confusing sometimes. Especially when it feels like you have every reason to be happy. But we’re human. This is part of our human experience, as much as it sucks. Beth,” Namjoon rests a hand under my chin when my eyes fall again, gently urging me to look up at him. “I don’t feel alone anymore. That’s because of you. Just seeing you, I feel like everything is going to be alright. Do you see how amazing that is? I’m not lonely anymore. Please, Beth.” He releases a shaky breath, the earnestness in his eyes bringing a fresh wave of tears to my eyes. “Let me try. I don’t want you to feel alone anymore. Let me in,” Namjoon gestures to his heart, “and I swear I’ll never leave.”

Staring up at him, I know he’s telling the truth. I can tell he means every word he’s saying. But I have to know. I have to ask.

“You’ve been promising a lot of things,” I mutter, inhaling sharply as the tears rush down my face. “Are you sure you can keep all your promises? Please, Namjoon. Please don’t promise me something you can’t keep.”

Gently brushing the tears from my face, Namjoon leans in. Slowly, and close enough that I can see the light reflected in the tears still on his face. My heart, limp and weak as it may be, jumps at the close proximity.

“Do you mind if I make another promise?” Namjoon whispers before his lips brush up against my cheek. I freeze as he licks the salty mixture from his lips before moving to the other side.

“N-no,” I mumble.

Just there, the only warning I have is the feeling of his warm breath before he sweetly kisses away the remaining tears on my other cheek.

He pulls away just enough to look into my eyes. “I promise that I will never make you a promise that I cannot keep.”

Eyes drifting down to my mouth he tilts my head up ever so slightly. My eyes drift shut of their own accord, the only thing keeping me tied to the earth being Namjoon’s hands that hold me like I may break at any moment.

The first brush of his lips takes my breath away, the feeling so light that I wonder for a brief moment if this isn’t all just in my head.

Slowly he deepens the kiss, just enough for the salty tang of my tears on his lips to seep into my senses. The bittersweet taste has me reaching out to him, hands fisting the material over his chest. I cling to my soulmate as he clings to me, and even the world slows for a moment in order to accommodate this moment. Fate has never been my friend, but in this sliver of time I feel that it has been uncommonly kind to me.

By the time we pull away, resting our foreheads together, the ache in my heart has subsided. Namjoon’s hands slide down to my waist, holding me in place. As if I’d go anywhere.

I look up at my soulmate only to find his eyes still shut, drinking in the moment. Taking the precious seconds fate has given me, I study him out. Bliss suits him.

As though feeling my gaze, his eyes slide open. A small smile crosses his features, and the word that I have come to associate with Kim Namjoon over the past couple of days reappears in my mind’s eye, hanging over us like the stars in the sky.

Perfect.

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Taglist is open! Happy Halloween this weekend everyone! Thoughts? They finally kissed! (lol, finally. they’ve known each other for what, two or three days?) I love these two. Stay safe and healthy! 

taglist: @mae-musicbitch @taylorroe3​ @heartblackerthancoffee @eusticenatalie @agustneeds