#I really would rather her take three years to write the next book
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Can I request something with Five Hargreeves where Five and Lilia gets back to their family after the 7 years (nothing romantic happened between them, just purely platonic), and when he sees the reader for the first time after almost loosing so much hope in seeing her again, he just can’t help but latch onto her and never let go, kissing her all over cause he finally gets to see the love of his life again :,D
a/n: ty for sending in this request anon i really enjoyed writing it <3 this is basically the “good ending” of the subway incident
warnings: fluff, mentions of five and lila but in a platonic way not the bad way
His lungs feel like they’re on fire as Five pushes himself to continue his sprint to your apartment. It’s been seven years without you, and after almost losing hope of ever seeing you again, all he wanted now was to have you in his arms as proof that he truly was back in his own timeline.
He never should have listened to Lila when she insisted on traveling the subway system in search of a solution to the Cleanse, but he had been desperate to find a way to keep you and his family safe no matter the cost. He didn’t mind having to eat subway rats and sleep in flimsily sleeping bags on dirty platforms for your sake, but with no end in sight the entire thing began to seem futile. What good was putting himself through torture if he could never go back home to you?
Thus, when he found the journal that detailed the way back home, Five did not hesitate to jump on the next subway car and return back to his own timeline. He didn’t feel sorry for practically shoving Lila out of the way as soon as the doors opened, and he didn’t waste a second waiting for her to follow before he was booking it out of the station and down the streets to your apartment. While it would have been faster to just jump there, he didn’t want to risk accidentally placing himself right back where he started, and he didn’t have the patience to wait for Lila to find a car and drop him off herself. Seeing you could not wait, and so he ran.
Though Five has experienced seven painful years of being stuck with Lila in the subway, only four hours have passed since you last spoke to him on the phone to discuss your evening plans. He was meant to be at your apartment thirty minutes ago so you could enjoy a lovely dinner at a nice restaurant, and yet here you were sitting painfully board at your kitchen island watching the minutes tick by. You knew he wasn’t exactly keen on eating out when he’d rather stay at home and spend quality time with you, but surely he wouldn’t stoop so low as to miss your date entirely.
“Screw this,” you huff in indigence as you snatch your keys from the counter and grab your previously discarded purse from its spot on the couch. “He’ll just have to meet me there.”
After putting on your coat, you fling the door open only to met with the sight of a breathless Five, his fist raised in the air as if he was about to knock before you beat him to it. He looks completely disheveled with his mussed up hair and wrinkled suit, his eyes blown wide as he swallows down a big gulp of air and takes in your features. You look more beautiful than he ever thought possible, and he can’t believe that he’s really here standing in front of you after being trapped in a time travel hellscape for seven years with his idiot brother’s idiot wife.
“Five?” You utter gently, brows furrowed in confusion and concern as you reach out to place a gentle hand upon his cheek. He’s warm to the touch, most likely a side effect from having sprinted for three blocks, but it worries you nonetheless. He nearly melts into your palm as his eyes flutter shut in contentment at the feel of your skin against his own. He’s missed this, and he’s missed you. “Where have you been, I was just about to leave without you. You okay?”
You jump at his sudden movement when Five practically throws himself into your arms. You lose your footing and tumble back into your apartment, and it takes you a moment to process what’s happening before you tightly return the embrace. You know Five loves you, but he’s never been so forward with affection like this, so his behavior takes you by surprise.
“Sweetheart, I’ve never been better,” he breathes out in relief as he takes in your warmth and your smell and your touch and everything good about you. He never thought he could miss anyone as much as he missed you, and Five swore in that moment he’d never take you for granted again.
“Are you sure you’re really my Five and not a total stranger?” You question teasingly, poking fun at his uncharacteristically tender behavior. While normally you would be met with a biting and sarcastic response in return, you are instead given a passionate kiss as he cups your face in his hands and desperately pulls you closer to him. Your startled gasp is swallowed by his lips as he deepens the kiss and pushes you further into the apartment before shutting the door with his foot.
“Five,” you manage to breathe out after he pulls away for air, your face hot and your mind frazzled as you struggle to comprehend the sequence of events that have just occurred. “Five, we’re going to be late.”
“I couldn’t care less,” he replies with a faint smile, reaching out to carefully tuck your hair behind your ear. “I missed you.”
“Missed me?” You repeat in confusion. “You saw me this morning. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll explain everything in time,” he assures you carefully, “but right now I just want to enjoy this moment with you.”
With a faint smile gracing your lips, you know you can’t argue with that. You probably will miss your dinner reservations, but none of that matters as Five pulls you in close and showers you with seven years worth of pent-up affection.
You could really get used to this side of him.
#request#the umbrella academy#five hargreeves#number five#five#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves imagines#number five x reader#number five imagine#five x reader#five imagine#tua x reader#tua imagine#tua
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jo!!!!! hey hey hey congrats on 200 that is soooo amazing!!! also i am in love w ur celebration it is so creative!!!!
could i request james potter with evading eye contact / friends to lovers, and my song was 'staying down low' by angie mcmahon (an underrated aussie artist who grew up near me!) everything else is up to u to work ur magic!! <3
thank u and congrats again!!! <333
| STAYING DOWN LOW ⊹₊⟡⋆
“In which you’ve been ignoring James for a few days but he’s dead set on getting you out of the sad haven you’ve made of your apartment.”
pairing: james potter x fem!reader
genre: hurt/comfort
w/c: 2.4k
tags: muggle au, friends to lovers, mentions of depression, reader is falling into a depressive episode again, mentions of not eating (because of depression but there are no mentions of an ed)
jo’s note: for the precious gia!! <3333 i hope you like what i concocted, i had a good time writing it in a not so good time. sort of therapeutic this writing fics thing. also, i don’t??? hate??? this??? fic??? which might be a first for me and the fic being so self-indulgent may have played a part in this. but anyway, the lovers part of the friends to lovers isn’t really here so i'm totally up to do a second part maybe in the future?? if you, gia, want it or anyone else (will probably do it just for myself anyway heh).
Seven knocks in a familiar rhythmic pattern on the door and you don’t need to see out the peephole to know who it is. Usually you would open it without thinking twice about it but today you’re not sure you want to. There are clothes scattered across the floor, dishes from the last couple of days in the kitchen sink, and you can’t remember when was the last time you vacuumed even superficially. You would rather the sight that was your living stay between it and yourself.
And that’s not even talking about your state, which, now that you think about it, could be worse. You had actually managed to get out of bed to take a shower today. Though if you were to be frank, you’d only done it to make up for the hour you were ashamed to admit you had woken up at. That way at least you could at least say you had crossed something off the mental list of things you imagine a functional human being doesn’t have to think twice to do, but for some reason seem damn near impossible to you.
“I can hear you’re in there!” He calls out from the hall when you accidentally knock out a stack of books with your foot from the sofa when doubling over to reach the remote. “Open up.”
You throw your head back, as you consider leaving him out there for your next-door neighbour to deal with: a grumpy eighty-year old lady who, in her own words, ‘has seen too much shit to have to keep dealing with it at this point of life’.
It’s only a matter of time if he keeps shouting outside your door at nine PM before she comes out to kick him out with a sweeper.
“James, go away before Mrs Thomas kindly sees you out.”
You hear the sound of James messing with the lock. Which is weird, because he doesn’t have a key so you assume he’s trying to jam it, unsuccessfully.
At least you hope unsuccessfully, otherwise you would be worried about who else could open your door if James does.
“You!” Mrs Thomas yells. You swear you can see the stack of glasses in front of you tremble, cartoon-style.
“Fuck!” You jump from the sofa, throwing the three blankets you had on you behind you, which suddenly you recognize as a bad idea, given the only thing you’ve had to eat today was a few pieces of cereal deep at the bottom of the box from the last time you had gone out to run errands.
“Mrs Thomas! It’s me!” You hear three bangs against what you hope is the wall and not James’ head in the three seconds it takes you to overcome the dizziness. “You know me!”
“Only thing I know is this is not your flat!”
“It is my friend’s flat!”
“So why are you trying to break in?!”
“I’m not trying to b—”
You fling open the door and you grab James who was leaning against it by the elbow so he doesn’t crash into you. “Mrs Thomas, it’s alright—”
“This disrespectful young man was trying to break into your home! I don’t know if to rob you, or even murder—”
“Alright, Mrs Thomas—That’s a bit—” You interrupt her passionate monologue when you see her swing her new weapon of choice. A bright yellow umbrella apparently.
“You never know these days!”
James flinches when she absent-mindedly swings the umbrella too close to his leg for comfort.
“I was just taking a nap, I didn’t hear him knocking,” you explain.
You make yourself small under her scrutinizing gaze. “At this hour?”
“Okay, let’s go inside now.” James leads you inside by your waist, eager to get out of Mrs Thomas' sight and her umbrella.
After the door closes under your neighbours’ gaze, you turn around to shake your head at him, self-consciously trying to flatten the mess that your hair is.
“What the hell, James?”
You walk past him, clenching and unclenching your hands, crunching imaginary peanut shells between them. You’re not mad. You’re embarrassed; but you’d rather he think of the first option.
“Can you blame me?”
“Trying to break into my house?” You hiss out, in fear that Mrs Thomas is listening from outside.
“You didn’t answer your phone, what did you want me to do?”
“Do I break into your house when you don’t answer a text?”
The way he looks at you projects all his worries directly onto you and you wish you hadn’t said what you did. He doesn’t dare speak them out loud, maybe out of respect for you but it stings just the same as if he had because you know he’s right.
“I wanted to be left alone for a while,” you mutter, with the demeanor of a puppy whose owner just yelled at them for gnawing on the carpet.
“I know, and that’s exactly the problem.”
He laughs but it lacks any of his usual light, matching your living room whose only light source comes from a streetlamp down on your street.
“That I needed some personal space?”
“Last time you needed ‘personal space’ you didn’t come out of this apartment for months. I didn’t hear from you for months. You…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, he seems just as uncomfortable to talk about your last depressive episode as you are to be confronted with it.
“James, it’s not like that.” You give him half a smile like he’s being the equivalent of a mother asking you to take your jacket when there’s twenty five degrees celsius outside. He’s silly for worrying.
He gestures in circles to his surroundings. “Well, this is taking me back to a time I’d rather not go back to.”
Your cheeks burn. “You don’t need to worry about that, I—”
“I do worry. I do worry,” his words come out harsher than his intention means them to but you know it’s out of frustration and not personal in a way that matters, “You’re my friend and I worry.”
He’s now prancing around the room, picking up books and random objects and placing them in random spaces. He gets more than half of them surprisingly where they belong, product of the time he spends at your apartment.
“And I appreciate that—”
“You can stay for a bit at my place. You can bring a bag now and we can come for more of your stuff later.”
“James.”
“Basic stuff. Pyjamas, toothbrush, a couple changes of clothes…”
“James.”
“I have the pullout couch so that won’t be a problem.”
“James!”
The change in your tone wakes him up from his brainstorming and he stops on his feet.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m fine.”
“Alright, then. I’ll stay here.” He slumps down on the couch. There’s not an ounce of humour in his face.
“You’re not babysitting me.”
“You can always kick me out, but I’ll set up camp outside your door, maybe bring a sleeping bag and I don’t think Mrs Thomas will be a big fan of that so unless you want me arrested… I’m giving you options.”
“I’m an adult.”
“Good for you.”
“So you can go home, drink some tea to calm yourself and we can meet up another day.”
He makes a popping sound with his lips while he shakes his head. His feet are now on your coffee table and he expects you to take that as his answer.
“Get your feet off of there.” You strut over to his side and try to kick them off with your knee.
He sticks the tip of his tongue in a childish gesture. It gets a laugh out of you and his eyes brighten up as he looks up to see it for himself.
“It’s raining outside, your shoes must be disgusting.”
When he doesn’t budge, you resort to the much more drastic solution of trying to kick him off.
“I’ve been doing a lot of leg days at the gym. Watch out.” He pulls up the hem of his joggers to show you his calves.
“You look like a chicken.”
“Okay, ouch.” He pokes at his leg with two of your fingers to prove something. “Me, personally, I’ve never seen a chicken with these bad boys.”
“Don’t ever refer to your legs like that again.” You squint your eyes, cringing.
“Don’t ever call me a chicken again and I’ll think about it.”
“Fair, deal.” You sigh.
You slump down on the couch next to him, kicking off your slippers which end up on top of one of the many piles of clothing.
“You’ve eaten today?” he asks, his tone taking a sweeter tone.
He’s now a man approaching a stray, holding out his hand to earn its trust, ready to jerk it right back in case it decides to bite.
You twiddle with your thumbs. “Yup.” You’re not up for biting, but lying has gotten you quite far before.
“What did you eat?”
You swallow the ‘What is this? An interrogation?’ down and look at the coffee table for an answer. “Ordered some pizza.” You point to the empty greasy box next to his feet.
He sits up and goes to grab it, when you snatch it immediately.
“It’s okay, I’ll throw it.”
“I wanna see where it’s from.” He knows your habits too well and you know that's not the reason.
“Alessandro’s.”
You go to get up, slower this time having learnt your lesson earlier, but he grabs your arm and snatches the box from you before you can go throw it in the kitchen bin, and with it the incriminating receipt atop that dates the purchase to a few days ago.
You fight back, kicking him lightly, nervously laughing your way through it to pretend you’re just playing. He doesn’t laugh until he starts tickling you to make you release the grip you have on the box. He gets it for a second but you lounge at him, sitting on top of his thighs. He grabs your wrists and it is almost tangible the way the air changes around you.
The fight is over. Neither of you move.
“Just tell me,” he whispers, his voice as soft as his eyes. He’d rather hear the truth from you, even if he already knows it.
He holds you tighter when you go to move away from him.
“You already know, James.” You smile sadly.
“That’s okay.” He pats the side of your thighs. “Come on.”
He sets you aside on the couch and gets up himself to go to the kitchen. You try to follow him but he holds up a hand without even turning around.
“Stay there. I got it.”
And you stay. For about two minutes before staring at the ceiling stops being entertaining and your feet take you to his side as if by on their own.
“Hey.” He smiles sideways, stirring the contents of a can of tomato sauce you always had in the pantry in case of emergencies.
“You’re depleting my food supply in case of a zombie apocalypse,” you joke, sinking your chin into his shoulder to look at his cooking, hands intertwined behind your back.
“Don’t worry.” He reaches back to play with your hair; you close your eyes. “I’ll restock.”
You open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it.
“I’m making some for myself too. Hope you don’t mind.” He throws the last sentence nonchalantly, but the truth is he knows you’d rather not eat alone.
He knows you too well. It’s eerie, or so Sirius is used to saying with a grimace to go along with it, like a child who sticks out their tongue when people kiss in movies.
“Pass me the pasta?” He asks, nodding in its direction.
You reluctantly peel away from him to help and hand him the box. You laugh at the spring-shaped illustration of the pasta.
“I love these. They’re my favourite.”
“I know that.” He turns to look at you, all cocky.
There are quite a few beats of silence, but not the uncomfortable kind. Never with James.
He coughs; he wants to say something. “You know, if you want to talk to me I’m here.”
“I don’t.” For the first time tonight, your answer it’s not defensive, or filled with anger. It just is.
You’re not closed off to talking. Tonight just isn’t the night and James understands.
“Pass me the strainer.”
He finishes serving two plates. One for you because you need it, and one for him which he will push through after having already had dinner.
“I’m letting you pick the film for the second time in a row,” he hisses, skipping to the couch to set down the hot bowl of pasta that’s burning his hands.
“How chivalrous.”
You put your favourite film on, and this time he doesn’t tease about the number of times you have made him watch it with you. You can see his smile tremble with the effort not to.
“Twentieth,” you remind him.
“Thank you.” He taps your bowl with two of his knuckles to remind you of the food, eyes already glued to the screen.
You eat in silence, contrary to your usual movie nights where you can’t seem to shut up and stop making up commentary out of thin air, only the film for ambience and the occasional deep inhale from James before shoving the fork in his mouth.
“You don’t have to eat if you’ve had dinner, James. It’s fine,” you laugh.
He looks at you like you just told him there’s a pink elephant in your bathroom. “I haven’t had dinner. I’m ravenous. Starving. Famished.”
You roll your eyes. “Have it your way.”
The film ends and in part so does the heaviness in your heart.
��We’re going shopping tomorrow. I need a new pair of jeans; my legs are getting too big with all this gym,” he states once he finishes his plate and wipes some sauce off his lip. “And we can’t have you depriving the world of seeing that beautiful face.” He flicks your chin with the napkin, getting some sauce on your face.
“Ugh, I hate you.” You throw your head back, leaning it against the sofa.
“I’m okay with that. You’ll learn to love me in due time,” he says. “Everyone does.”
He smiles. It’s contagious and he traces the reflection of his smile on your lips with his finger; a treasure to be committed to memory.
thank you for reading, reblogs and replies are appreciated <3
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#[💌] — jo’s writings ⭑.ᐟ#james potter#james potter x reader#marauders#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter fanfiction#james potter fluff#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#james potter imagine#marauders era
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CHAPTER THREE | TSOFAS.
pairing: azriel x reader.
word count: 4,518.
author's note: one of the things I love about writing this story is that a lot of the characters are morally grey and exploring that is so interesting to me as an author. things are rarely black or white, so delving into the intricacies of that ambiguity has been so much fun. hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it x
♫ black out days - phantogram. nav. series. moodboard.
The night before journeying to the Autumn Court, Rhys asked you to meet him at the House of Wind. You were halfway through packing when a knock at the door interrupted your progress. It wasn’t much of a process since your definition of the act consisted of haphazardly throwing the bare essentials into a small rucksack.
Turning your attention to the door, you lifted the wards and beckoned the familiar figure inside. Azriel’s dark hair obscured the setting sun as he stood in the doorway. Since you weren’t keen on making the trek up the ten thousand steps at the House, the High Lord sent the shadowsinger to fetch you. Neither one of you were happy about the arrangement, but you figured that you might as well get used to it since you’d be spending the next month together.
“Are you just going to stand there?” you asked while shoving a heavy cloak into your bag in preparation for the chilly nights at the Autumn Court.
The shadowsinger said nothing as he crossed over the threshold to take in the contents of your flat. It was strange to see him inside of your home. In all the years you’ve known him, Azriel had never set foot in your flat. Since you usually met up with the others at either the House of Wind or the River House, there had never been any reason for the shadowsinger to visit your dwelling. Now that he was standing in the middle of your living room, you could see how empty and unwelcoming the space may seem from his perspective.
The place was hardly furnished and it lacked the warmth of a personal touch. You were away on assignment more often than not so you hadn’t really bothered to decorate. Since your days of exile, the habit of only keeping the absolute necessities remained as a holdover from experiencing life on the run. All you really needed was a working bath, a semi-decent bed, and a kitchen to cook in when the mood struck.
“Is that all you’re bringing?” Azriel asked through the open door of your bedroom.
Just like the rest of your flat, the room was bare and empty. There was a bed and a dresser, but if it weren’t for the growing stack of books piled high on your nightstand, no one would suspect that anyone even lived here.
“I like to pack light,” you replied defensively. “There’s no need to bring anything unnecessary.”
“That much is clear,” Azriel muttered under his breath. He inspected the velvet couch in your living room, which was still in pristine condition. “It looks like you just moved in. Haven't you owned this place for years?”
You rolled your eyes in response. For some reason, the comment brushed you the wrong way. Though you supposed that was nothing new when it came to Azriel.
“My apologies, shadowsinger. Are my interior design capabilities not up to your standards?”
The sarcasm flew over Azriel’s head as he scanned the walls, frowning when he found it devoid of decorations. “It just seems a little barren.”
“It’s a flat, not a palace.” You replied rather sharply. “As long as I have a place to sleep, that’s good enough for me.”
Azriel tutted in disapproval before he weaved his way into the kitchen. You tracked him underneath the archway, his wings tucked tightly behind his back as he picked up the one sentimental item in your possession.
In his hands, the shadowsinger held an enchanted painting of you, Rhys, and Serena. Your friend was smiling with her wings spread proudly while both her and Rhys sandwiched you in between them. In the center, you tipped your head back in laughter. You thought you saw the ghost of a smile forming on Azriel’s lips before you snatched the keepsake out of his hands.
“Don’t touch that,” you reprimanded. “Do me a favor and stop snooping. I’m almost done packing.”
As carefully as you could manage, you set the painting back to its rightful place and ignored the gaze burning into your side. You could practically hear the onslaught of questions that the shadowsinger was dying to ask as you surveyed Serena’s smile. It was that same smile that had saved you all those years ago.
After you left the Autumn Court, you were forced to roam through Prythian alone. At first, you were able to scrape by working odd jobs as a barmaid or innkeeper, but with the war waging through the courts, the opportunities dwindled down to nothing.
Driven by desperation, you found yourself foraging for food near the Night Court’s war camps. You came across their supplies and rationalized that they wouldn’t miss an apple or two. You’ve always been quick and stealthy, but Serena had the advantage of her wings. She spotted you almost immediately, but instead of turning you over to her father, Serena took you to her mother and brother. With Rhysand’s help, they offered you a place in the camps. A refuge from your exiled existence.
With Rhys and Serena, you weren’t a Thorne. You weren’t a young acolyte fleeing from her future as the Autumn Court’s next High Priestess. You weren’t the weapon that Beron honed you into.
You were just you.
You found family in Rhys and Serena. You confided in both of them. You trusted them with the secrets of your past. For a time, the three of you had been inseparable. Then Serena died and the loss of your friend hardened you in a way that couldn’t be undone. Her death solidified what you’ve known all along — everything you touched turned to smoke and ash.
You looked at that smile again, wondering what your friend would say if she knew you were returning to the Forest House. She probably would have insisted on coming along.
Serena was the only one who knew the full extent of the horrors you escaped. The cruelty of the Autumn Court. The familial ties that hounded you. The blood of the fox that took and took until you had nothing left.
You dreaded going back to that wretched place. And yet, the darkness within you, the rage and fury coursing through your veins whispered home, home, home.
When you looked up, you met the shadowsinger’s gaze. There was something brewing within him, though his expression appeared as cold and stoic as it always was. But there — a sharpness in his eyes that strangely resembled recognition. Perturbed by its implication, you broke eye contact.
Azriel regarded you warily as he moved towards the couch. If he noticed that you had momentarily lost yourself in thought, he made no mention of it. The shadowsinger plopped down on the cushions and stretched his long legs atop your coffee table. Shadows peered over his shoulders as though they too were passing judgment on the utter lack of decoration in your flat.
You cleared your throat and marched back into your room to resume packing. If anything, you were just glad to have a door between you and Azriel.
“We should leave before the sun rises. I can winnow us to the edge of the Winter Court, but we’ll have to fly the rest of the way.”
You rifled through your wardrobe, throwing in a few dresses for good measure before slipping out of the smock you were wearing in exchange for something thicker. You needed to layer if you hoped to survive the flight through Kallias and Viviane’s borders.
“Did Rhys tell you where Beron intends to house us?”
A beat of silence passed. You glanced over your shoulder and realized that the bedroom door was cracked open just enough to give Azriel a glimpse of your bare back. You could feel him staring at the giant wings etched upon your skin — a tribute for the ones that Serena lost.
You slammed the door shut, causing Azriel to flinch. After pulling on a sweater, you emerged from the room just as the shadowsinger cleared his throat and picked up the conversation as though you hadn't just caught him staring at you.
“At one of his properties near the Forest House. He’s welcoming us into his borders, but keeping us well away from his home until the Blood Moon.”
You frowned. "That's strange," you murmured under your breath. The Beron you knew was a strong believer in keeping his friends close, but his enemies closer. If he was choosing to house you away from the Forest House, then he truly must be hiding something. "I would've thought that Beron would prefer to keep us under constant watch. My uncle is as paranoid as they come.”
“With good reason,” Azriel added with a slight smirk, “Look who he’s letting into his territory.”
That brightened your mood a notch. You couldn’t wait to rob the bloody bastard blind.
“Fair point,“ you admitted. “Well if you’re done being a busybody, we should head out. Rhys is expecting me.”
As always, Azriel flew in complete silence. You looped your arms around his neck and shut your eyes. Flying was something you had always dreaded and it didn’t help that the shadowsinger dipped and flipped without warning. Those lethal wings of his beat against his back and plummeted you into the air while the wind whipped your scarlet hair into your eyes.
Despite your tight grip, Azriel carried you in his arms with ease while simultaneously maintaining a considerable amount of distance between you. Gods forbid if Azriel held anyone closer than arms-length. It seemed fitting, given the nature of your relationship.
Despite being in the same circle of friends, you and Azriel had never really gotten along. On a good day, you might be persuaded to tolerate each other for a limited amount of time and that was only if one of you managed to keep the hostility to the bare minimum. Rhys liked to say that mutual stubbornness was the cause of the clash, but in reality, something about Azriel has always unnerved you.
What he lacked in words, he more than made up for with astute observation. Even without the help of his shadows, Azriel was extremely perceptive. He picked up on things most people wouldn’t notice. For someone who spent her entire life not wanting to be seen or known, the shadowsinger’s attentiveness was perturbing.
You could feel his scrutinizing gaze on you even now as he examined the expression on your face with calculated caution. You tilted your chin up and stared right back into those hazel eyes of his.
“What?” you challenged. “Do I have something on my face?”
Azriel ignored the question and jumped straight to the point. There was no beating around the bush with the shadowsinger. “The tattoo on your back. They’re Serena’s wings, aren’t they?”
Everything within you stilled. You stiffened in Azriel’s arms and looked away from him, which was a mistake in itself since there was nothing but the terrifying open sky to be seen from this height. You couldn’t tell whether it was your fear of flying or the subject of your friend that suddenly caused your chest to tighten.
You never really talked about Serena with anyone other than Rhys. A part of you knew you should, at least to keep her memory alive, but it still hurt to speak of your late friend even to this day. It would never stop hurting.
“So you were watching me undress,” you accused, shifting the topic of conversation. “Can’t say I’m surprised that you’re into voyeurism.”
Azriel rolled his eyes. “It’s pretty hard to miss,” the shadowsinger said with a shrug. He paused as his gaze slid over to you once more. Softly, he added, “I’d almost forgotten how beautiful they were. How beautiful she was.”
Your heart twisted in your chest. Sometimes you forgot that Serena had been his friend just as much as she was yours. The shadowsinger had served Rhysand’s father for years and lived under the same roof as her. She always considered Azriel and Cassian as her brothers and she used to tease you endlessly about your rivalry with Azriel.
The line between love and hate is thinner than you think, your friend would state with a knowing smile. No matter how much you tried to convince her otherwise. Once Serena set her mind on something, there was no talking her out of it.
While Serena was right most of the time, she couldn’t have been more wrong about you and Azriel. There was nothing between you but hostility and disdain. The only thing you had in common was your friendship with her. It seemed rather odd to you that the two of you could love the same person, but hate one another.
With a forlorn expression, Azriel set you down on the balcony of the House of Wind. “It looks good on you,” he declared softly.
You stared at each other for a moment before you cleared your throat and broke off the intense eye contact.
“I should go. Rhys is waiting for me,” you said. Azriel nodded in confirmation. “I’ll see you at dawn, then.”
“I have to reconvene with my contacts in Rask to make sure things are in order during my absence, but I’ll be back before we’re due to depart.”
You involuntarily flinched at the mention of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the Continent. A kingdom who allied with Hybern.
Azriel noted the reaction. “Try not to miss me too much, princess. I’ll be back before you know it.”
The shadowsinger grinned as you rolled your eyes at the comment. Not bothering to respond, you spun on your heel and threw Azriel a vulgar gesture over your shoulder.
As you ascended the stairs, his dark laughter followed after you like a shadow.
The bloodstone hanging between your shoulder blades gleamed as you tugged on the chain absentmindedly, your focus shifting in and out as Rhysand’s voice floated through the room. His tone took on the form of a question and snapped you back to the present.
Am I boring you? Rhys asked as he prodded through your mental shields. You frowned in response and clamped down the ruby gates within your mind.
The High Lord winced as you flashed him a feral smile. “You were saying?”
For the past hour, Rhys had drilled you on the plan until you were certain that you could recite the entire thing in your sleep. First, you were to winnow to the Winter Court. After that, Azriel would fly the rest of the way to the borders of the Autumn Court where you would both meet Beron’s welcoming party at the designated spot. From there, you’d be taken to the Forest House and formally presented to the High Lord.
“How are you faring with all of this?”
“Fine,” was your customary response. Rhysand raised a knowing brow. This wasn’t just an ordinary mission and you both knew it. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can,” your friend said with a tinge of worry. “But asking you to go back to that place is not something I take lightly. I wouldn’t have brought this to you if I hadn’t already exhausted all our other options.”
Violet eyes met yours and your demeanor softened. Rhysand rarely asked anything of you. Most of the time, you were the one volunteering to go on dangerous missions, much to his apprehension.
“I know and I appreciate it.” You offered your friend a reassuring smile. “But you don’t have to worry about me, Rhys.”
“I do so regardless.” He gazed through the glass window panes with a wistful expression. “You know, she would kick my ass if she knew what I was asking you to do.”
Rhysand didn’t have to say her name. You both knew he was speaking of Serena.
You chuckled. “Knowing her, she would probably have insisted on coming with me.” A smile bloomed on your lips at the thought. “It would’ve been a sight, wouldn’t it? I’d pay to see her lay into Beron.”
You exchanged a forlorn glance. Both of you would have paid all the damn gold in the Night Court’s coffers to see Serena do anything again.
“For her sake and mine, please be careful.” Your friend said in a serious tone. “I know you’re not thrilled to have Azriel accompanying you, but you will need each other.”
“I highly doubt that,” you muttered under your breath.
Rhysand gave you a look of disapproval and you responded with a dramatic eye roll, throwing your hands up in surrender. “Fine, I suppose I can tolerate the overgrown bat for a few days. At the very least, the shadowsinger can tether me if things get out of hand.”
At the mention of tethering, Rhys blanched. You knew that you probably shouldn’t joke about such things. Unleashing your true form was dangerous enough, but setting your power loose in the Forest House meant that someone would have to snap the thread in case your flames gained control over you rather than the other way around.
You had only ever come close to being tethered once, after Serena’s death. You lost control that day, drowning the bog of Oorid in smoke and ash while you raged to taste the blood of the Spring Court lord and his sons. It took Rhysand nearly half his strength to break into your mind and render you unconscious, which effectively broke the connection and stopped you from laying waste to the desolate swamp.
If Rhys had been unsuccessful, the only alternative was to shatter the thread which would have killed you in the process.
“I’m joking, Rhys. It won’t come to that.” He ran a hand over his face, clearly exhausted from his duties. It probably wasn’t wise to add onto his extensive list of worries. “I’ll be careful.”
He sighed in relief. “Are you and Azriel set to depart tomorrow?”
You nodded in confirmation. “Yes, he said he’d be returning from Rask before dawn.” Your gaze shifted to your friend. “Trouble in the Continent?”
“Quite the contrary. It seems congratulations are in order. The King of Rask plans on crowning his heir.”
“May the gods be with the young prince.” The declaration filled you with dread and tasted like ash in your mouth. “With Xilas as a father, Cauldron knows the boy will need it.”
“The King is a nasty piece of work.” Rhys said in agreement. You didn’t miss the sidelong glance he cast your way. “He hasn’t tried to reach out to you, has he?”
You scoffed. “His Royal Highness has no interest in his illegitimate offspring. Xilas made that very clear the day he left my mother.”
“I’m sorry to even bring it up. I just wondered. The coronation may be in the works, but rumor has it that the young prince did not inherit his father’s powers.”
The pointed look Rhys sent your way was deflected by a nonchalant shrug. “Regardless, he is the heir to the throne. The only heir,” you added with a tone of finality.
The High Lord nodded slowly, but kept his gaze leveled on you. “Do the others know? About the King?”
Rhys shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell. If and when you are ready to tell them, I will support you.”
The day would likely never come. You were content on being known for who you are now, not for some meaningless title passed down from a father who couldn’t even be bothered to care about your existence.
“Thank you, Rhys.” You nodded towards the darkening horizon outside. “If that’s all, I’m going to turn in early. Give Feyre and Nyx my regards. I heard the little Illyrian is teething, so you should probably relieve my High Lady soon.”
Rhys chuckled. “You have no idea. She’s calling in reinforcements as we speak.”
You grinned. “Don’t let me hold you up, then.”
You and Rhysand exchanged goodbyes with the High Lord ruffling your hair and making you promise to be careful just like he did back when you and Serena used to sneak out and get into all sorts of mischief in the city.
You paused in the doorway. “Do you ever talk about her? With Feyre or any of the others? With Nyx?”
Rhys looked at you for a long time, stars winking in his eyes. “No, but I should.”
He turned to meet your gaze. “We both should.”
The High Lord of the Night Court found himself in the heart of the Western Isles.
Despite his desire to return home to his High Lady and their teething toddler, Rhysand had urgent business to attend to first.
He watched as the waves of the pewter sea crashed violently against the brutal cliffs of the rocky mountain island. Above the misty peak, the Prison stood menacingly against the dreary backdrop.
“I’m aware that you have a reputation to uphold, but this is a bit overkill, don’t you think?”
A flash of scarlet glimmered in the High Lord’s periphery. Rhysand remained silent and stoic as stone while Eris Vanserra slid into place beside him.
“Always a pleasure, Eris.”
The Autumn Court male snorted. “I may not be a daemati, but being a Vanserra has made me an expert in spotting insincerity and you’d rival my father in your capacity for drivel.” Rhys almost smiled at that. “Why are we here, Rhysand?”
“Is everything according to plan?”
“Would I be here if it wasn’t?” The High Lord leveled a hard stare at the redhead and Eris sighed in response. “Beron has ensured safe entry for my dear cousin and the shadowsinger. After all, Autumn Court law requires him to honor the rite. My father would not dare trample the traditions of our land.”
The tension lifted from Rhysand’s shoulders. As much as he detested placing his trust in Beron, he knew the male would not be foolish enough to break the customs of his ancestors. Violating the ancient rite was punishable by death. No one was exempt from the provision — not even a High Lord.
It was the only way Rhysand could protect Y/N. Though it didn’t fully alleviate his worries, it at least provided him some sort of assurance.
“And Xilas?”
It was the Autumn lordling’s turn to frown. “I have stalled his correspondences for the meantime, but it’s only a matter of time before he makes contact with my father.” Cunning eyes scanned the gloomy horizon and a flash of brooding marred the eldest Vanserra’s fox-like features. “Does she know about the coronation?”
Rhysand nodded. “She’s aware. I tried to broach the subject, but she has made it clear on multiple occasions that she’s not interested in the affairs of the kingdom.”
“Be that as it may, but the kingdom is interested in her.”
“She’s been through enough.”
“And yet you’re sending her back into the Autumn Court blindly,” Eris said with a hint of bitterness. “This arrangement may protect her from Beron, but she cannot avoid the matter of her birthright forever. Perhaps it would be best to inform my dear cousin of the plan.”
“You lost the right to claim her as family the minute you allowed her to wander through Prythian starving and alone,” Rhys snapped. “I am doing what you failed to do centuries ago. I’m protecting her.”
Ire flashed behind that burning gaze. Eris seemed inclined to argue, but thought better of it and settled for a sneer instead. “Awfully convenient that I’m the one who will bear the brunt of her wrath once she finds out about your twisted little plan of protection. She will be furious with your deception. As will the shadowsinger.”
“Azriel will do what is necessary.”
In that, he had no doubt. As much as he hated keeping both of you in the dark, he knew it was the only option. Azriel would be angry, but his brother would understand. He just hoped that Y/N would too.
“You may judge my methods, but all that I do, I do for the sake of my loved ones. That is what we do in the Night Court. We protect our families.”
“Grand and noble Rhysand,” Eris sneered. “Has it ever occurred to you that you’re not the only one with a family to protect?” Rhysand faltered at that.
The High Lord examined the eldest Vanserra — the heir of the Autumn Court who possessed deadly wit and an even more lethal hand. Rhys could see the poised, pompous, and arrogant male who pranced about Prythian as though the realm owed him a great debt for merely existing, but underneath that carefully crafted exterior, he thought he was a glimpse of Eris.
The male who had risked his life to ally with the Night Court, to rebel against his father, to protect his mother, to keep his brothers in line, to rally the troops of the Autumn Court during their fight with Hybern. Rhysand thought that maybe, maybe, they weren’t as different as he had always led himself to believe.
But that glimpse had only been afforded to him momentarily. Once again, the cool mask of Eris Vanserra clicked into place as his amber eyes hardened on the horizon.
���The next month will be eventful to say the least,” Eris conceded with a sigh. “But I suppose it isn’t a Vanserra family reunion without lies, schemes, and betrayal. At least my cousin’s arrival will rouse some drama and intrigue in the fox’s den. I dare say it’s gotten a bit dull with only the threat of death gods and war.”
Rhysand’s lips curled a little at that. The Autumn lordling sighed. “Are you sure keeping this from them is the best idea?”
“It’s safer if they don’t know,” he replied. “Not yet, anyways.”
“She will be furious,” Eris whispered. He didn’t have to say the words that Rhys had spent pondering during the past few weeks.
She will never forgive you.
The High Lord knew that Eris, of all people, understood what that felt like.
“Better angry and safe than informed and dead.” The High Lord repeated the phrase almost mechanically, the words falling seamlessly from his lips as he recited them over and over again to himself, though it did nothing alleviate the worry and fear he felt. “She’ll understand. She always does.”
The words caught in his throat. You would be furious with him, Rhys knew that. But it was a risk he was willing to take if it meant keeping you safe.
I will not lose another sister.
Rhys had meant what he said. This plan had to work. It had to, because he didn’t know what he would do if it didn’t.
Right now, standing on the rocky shores of the Western Isles, it wasn’t the High Lord who slipped his trembling hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers.
It was a brother who prayed that his sister would forgive him for what he was about to do.
₊˚⊹♡ thank you for reading. as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated. feel free to drop an ask too — i’d love to yap & chat with you all.
taglist: @fuckingsimp4azriel @onebadassunicorn-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @marina468 @ly--canthrope
#we're getting into the lore and backstory now#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel spymaster
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Part 2: Hurt

A/N: ahh back at it again hi. I really hope you guys like this one. Im a little anxious about what to do after, but eager for yalls feedback! Let me know what you think!!!!!
Word count: 2.6k
Part 1
Fall 2019
“You should let me pick out your outfits more often.”
He’s sitting on her bed in a t-shirt and dark blue shorts with his arms behind his back. He has a small smirk on his face because he loves to see her all shy and out of her comfort zone.
“Harrrry, you know I hate this stuff! Why are you torturing me like this?” Twirling in the mirror and looking behind her back to see the outfit in whole. She would never have picked this out, but she kinda likes the idea of him dressing her. She would never let him know that though, of course.
“Because you look pretty when you’re dressed like that. Plus your butt looks good, Annie.” Harry whistles. She throws a sock across the room and manages to hit him square in the face. His giggling tells her he’s not offended. She walks out of the bathroom to greet him in her room. His sock covered feet are swinging and dangling off. He’s dressed before her since he said he has plans in 30 minutes. Ana skips over to meet him and lets herself fall in between his legs, his arms wrap around her to hold her up. Her head falls against his chest and says something but he can’t hear.
“Can’t hear you pretty girl.” He sings. Harry takes her head in his hands and it pushes her cheeks together. Finally making eye contact with him, she tells him that she’s too nervous to go to this book market alone.
“It’ll be good to get out of your comfort zone,” he smooches a wet kiss to her nose and she shakes her head, “and to make friends.”
Ana pushes herself off of him and walks back to the mirror. She’s been at University for 3 months already and the only friend she has is him. She wishes she could be more outgoing, but would rather spend her nights in her dorm than to be out partying, like her dear friend Harry. Still lost in her train of thought, Harry comes up behind her and lands a soft kiss on the back of her head.
“Why can’t you come with me? We would have so much fun together!”
“I wish I could, sweetheart. But I have big plans tonight, I already told you.”
“Yeah, yeah, big secret blah blah.”
“You’re gonna have a good time, I promise. I want you to have fun. I want to see you later though, so call me when you get home.” With a wink and a quick swat to her butt, he opens the door and slips out. Ana’s cheeks turn a deep red and she puts her fingertips to her mouth, thinking about what transpired earlier. Her ass is still a little sore.
Ana heard about the book market through her creative writing class. It’s basically a book swap for all the students on campus and a way for them to meet new people and make connections and counts as extra credit that she desperately needs. She ends up trading three books with some dudes she recognizes from her Calc class and finds herself having a good time.
As she picks up a book, Ana hears a squeal. “Oh my gosh, I LOVE that book!” She quickly turns around and ends up dropping her belongings.
“My name is Penny,” the ginger girl yells and rushes to pick the fallen items for her. Penny points to the tall dark haired girl next to her, “and this is my friend Jess.” Ana returns a smile and introduces herself. Maybe making friends wouldn’t be so hard.
After talking with the duo for ten minutes, she learns that Penny and Jess are both first years like Ana and they realize they actually have a lot in common. All first years, book lovers, and hopeless romantics. The book market finishes around 5 pm and the trio walks out together shoulder to shoulder. Ana pulls out her phone to shoot Harry a text, letting him know she’ll be going to dinner with her new friends and for him to stay with his friends. He replies with a thumbs up and a hundred exclamation points after which makes her smile.
They decide to go to a diner not too far from Ana’s dorm and it wasn’t too packed. Jess flips open the menu back and forth before saying “I dont know I’m kinda feeling chicken alfredo.” Penny smacks her menu against hers and laughs saying her meal was basic.
“Yeah, okay miss chicken parm.” Ana jokes back. All three girls are laughing when their waiter comes to the table and announces himself.
“Hi ladies. My name is Alex and I’ll be serving you guys tonight.” All girls quickly hush up and make quick eye contact with each other. The three of them finish ordering before Jess squeezes Ana’s hand from across the table.
“He was totally looking at you dude! And he was flirting!”
“Noooo, he was not. He was just being polite!” Ana is full on blushing and pushing her hair behind her ear. She was sitting with two beautiful girls and she was no near their kind of pretty. There’s no way he could have been interested in her.
“Oh hush up. He looks like a school boy in love. You should definitely get his number.” Penny is looking at her with soft eyes and Ana can tell she was being genuine. She sips her strawberry lemonade and ignores the girls’ comments. She’s not really interested in pursuing their waiter anyways.
“I’m sorta already seeing someone else.” she blushes and begins to spill her complicated love life with Harry. She’s not sure if she considers him to be her boyfriend, but she for sure knows they're more than just friends. They spend every other night in each other’s dorms and not just to sleep. Ana has never been more satisfied in bed with any other person than with Harry. And not even just sex, he makes her laugh, he makes her smile, and she trusts him. She’s almost in love with him, but the only thing stopping her from professing her love is the fact that he might not feel the same way.
Jess asks if Ana’s ever told him how she feels. She shakes her head and laughs “He probably doesn't feel the same. Let’s pretend I just went out and told him I liked him, yeah? And then he says he doesn't feel the same? I’d die. I would literally die.”
“You’ll never know unless you try Ana.” Penny sings. “I mean, it sounds like he likes you?”
“Or screw them both! Being single is fun! You deserve to not worry about who does or doesn't like you. You're young. Act like it.”
“Damn, Jess, laying it on thick.” Ana laughs but keeps the words in her head.
Thankfully, they move on and finish their meals talking about their classes. Alex comes around with the check and tells the girls to have a good night, ending with sending Ana a wink. She for sure saw that. She picks up the check and her mouth opens.
“What? Is it a million dollars?”
“No, he left his number. “ Penny shuts up and her eyebrows shoot up. “No way!”
The group gathers their leftovers and walk out of the diner on the way to their respective dorms.
“It was really nice to meet you guys.” Ana gushes. “I hope we can hang out again.”
“Oh we had so much fun! Of course we’ll see you again!” Penny pulls Ana into a hug and they rock side to side.
“Pen, jesus.” Jess laughs out and pulls her friend off. “I have a feeling we’ll be best pals for life. You have our numbers and socials. I’ll text you when we get to our dorm.”
Ana gets a few steps in before she hears Penny yell, “And call that boy! Or tell the other boy you love him!”
“We’ll see girl!” Ana laughs her off and walks away with a good feeling in her chest. She went out of her comfort zone and it paid off. And she got someone’s number. Who woulda thought?
She moves the crumpled receipt around in her pocket but can’t bring herself to actually fantasize about a new boy in her life. She really likes Harry. She’ll talk to him tonight, she decides. Excited to exclaim her crush, she has a pep in her step. Some loud rowdyness in front of her brings her out of her thoughts. She sees a few frat boys ahead of her seemingly drunk.
“Bro, you do not have more bitches than him! He’s like - he’s like every girls’ dream here!” The boys are pushing each other and yelling apparently about who has better game. “Harry is fucking someone like every other week, you can’t touch him.”
Suddenly, she freezes.
Harry? There has to be at least 1,000 people named Harry, so surely it can’t be him.
“Nah, he has that Annieee girl he’s always with. Pretty sure they’re dating with how much he talks about her. ” She’s feeling a little queasy because one, these boys think Harry and her are dating and two, he’s having sex with all these other girls?
“Annie’s just the side chick bro. He told me he’s still fucking a girl at least every other weekend. He’s with one tonight!”
Disgusted. Gutted. Is this a joke? Her Harry? Sleeping with other people? Every other weekend? Why hasn’t he told her? If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve said something. Of course she would’ve been a little hurt, but she would’ve understood. They were friends, or at least she thought they were. All those nights with her and countless times she’s opened up to him. Now this has her rethinking everything.
Ana rushes home with tears running down her face and grabs all of the things that remind her of him. His rainbow cardigan he left this morning just in case she was cold. His purple toothbrush he leaves with how much he stays over. All of his socks and boxers. His blue nail polish he wears because he thinks it makes him edgy. Everything is shoved in a box and thrown to the side. She knows it's dramatic but she's hurt. She catches her reflection in the mirror and stops to glance at herself. She knows she’s somewhat pretty, but her face falls a bit at the realization that she wasn’t good enough for him. All the sweet things he’s whispered to her has been a lie.
She spots the diner receipt from the restaurant and zeros in on the phone number. Alex is a guy who thinks she’s pretty. He didn’t know anything about her, but saw her face and thought she was worth knowing. Fuck Harry. She doesn’t need him. She should be looking for men who actually like her and aren’t wasting her time. Ana quickly puts Alex’s number in her contacts and is about to send a quick text when Harry’s contact pops up and takes over her screen. Fuck fuck. Ana pushes the button on the side of her phone repeatedly in efforts to stop the call. He calls again and again and she begins to get annoyed. Dude, get the hint. A fast knock on her door has her head turning fast.
“Annie, it’s me” She hears Harry call out.
She holds her breath and stays still in hopes that he thinks she’s not home.
“I have your locationnnn, I know you're in there” he sings. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mutters. Well, here goes everything.
“Hey, why didn’t you answer? What’s going on, why are you crying?” Harry puts a hand out to her face but she quickly puts a step back. His hand retreats and hurt laces his face.
His face is begging her for an answer, but she can’t bring herself to speak. This was someone she cared about, someone she was close to being in love with. Did she mean nothing to him? All those nights shared together made her feel stupid. How could she be so blind?
“What do you want?”
With a dry laugh, he asks her what’s going on. “Why are you upset? I thought the book swap went ama-”
“Where were you tonight?” Ana manages to look him in the eye. She wants to be able to see his face as he attempts to lie to her.
“I was out with friends. Annie, why are you crying?”
She blew a breath out and quietly spit out, “You sure? You sure you weren’t fucking someone?”
That shocked him. His eyes were wide and mouth slightly open. With a shake of his head, “Annie, no, please, what are you talking about? Who told you that?”
“You’re a liar,” she choked. So much for not crying in front of him. “You’ve been here lying to me, making me think you actually liked me. Every night not spent in my bed, you were in someone else’s. How many friends with benefits do you have? How many others do you lie to?”
Ana puts her hands up in defeat. “You know what? I don't wanna know.” She quickly steps back into the room and rushes to shut the door.
“Babe, please you have it all wrong. Let me explain!” His voice is muffled through the door and she puts her back against the wood. She can hear his ragged breathing as he tries to plead with her.
“Let me explain,” he repeats, “It’s not what you think.”
Her heart tightens and she’s feeling a whirlwind of emotions: betrayal, anger, heartbreak. She feels like she could hate him, but a small part of her wants to believe him. To believe he actually could love her.
“Why should I?” she finally says, voice trembling.
“I would never lie to you, Annie. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this.”
Ana lets out a hollow laugh. “So you’ve been meaning to tell me you’ve been whoring around? What I heard was true?”
There’s silence, but she knows he’s still there. She can hear his breath hitch.
Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet. “Can I come in?”
Her chest feels extremely heavy hearing him in pain. She’s aching for answers, but knows if she saw his face, she would cave.
“No.”
A hard knock which she assumes is his fist bumps her head forward.
“You have it all wrong, just let me explain. I need to see your face.”
“Please leave, Harry. I don’t want to see you.” She forces herself to stay strong and gets up to lock the door.
A heavy silence follows. Ana presses her forehead against the door, eyes shut tight as if that could block out the pain swelling in her chest. She hears him exhale sharply, his hand dragging down the wood between them.
“Annie…” His voice is strained. “Please, don’t do this. Just let me—”
“I said leave.” Her voice is firm this time. She won’t let him weaken her resolve. Not again.
A long pause. Then the sound of footsteps retreating. The ache in her chest tightens. She listens, waiting for the finality of his departure - but nothing comes. Just the eerie quiet of the night pressing in. She replays his pleas in her head. He didn’t deny her accusation.
A knock, softer this time, makes her flinch.
“Annie, if you want me to go, I’ll go.”
Her throat tightens. She should want that, shouldn’t she? Shouldn’t she want him gone after everything?
But the weight of those words presses against her ribs, because she knows Harry—knows the way he means things. He’s not saying it as a threat. He’s saying it because it’s the truth. If he leaves tonight, whatever this was is over.
Ana grips the doorknob, her fingers trembling.
Should she believe him? Does she let him explain? Or does she choose herself for once?
The choice sits heavy in her hands.
And then—
She turns the lock.
#harry styles angst#harry styles preferences#harry styles blog#harry styles#angst#books#friends to strangers#ahhhhh
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Sugar & Spicy Books Chapter 1
Summary: Y/N is an accomplished writer who is newly divorced, and out of fear of the unknown, moves back to her small hometown she swore she’d never come back to. She comes across her best friend that never left, who helps her out of a tough spot. Will old feelings arise? Or is she just too big for such a small place now?
Warnings: language, smut
Next chapter
“And with all that said, you are now officially divorced,” the judge announced.
Y/N sighed heavily, closing her eyes. The relief that flooded through her made her feel like she was floating, her heart soaring at the freedom it felt. She opened her eyes and smiled as she stood and hugged her divorce lawyer, then started gathering her things.
“I guess that’s it,” Raphael, her now ex-husband, said as he sidled up to her.
“That’s it,” Y/N nodded, barely sparing him a glance.
“So um…everything is set up for you at the house. All my things are out, and I got your car detailed as a, you know, sign of no ill will–”
“Raf, it’s okay if we don’t speak. I’d rather we never spoke again,” Y/N said, finally facing him. They looked each other over one last time before Y/N gave him a small smile. “Goodbye,” she nodded at him, then walked out of the courtroom.
***
New York City felt too big. The house was too big. The car was too big. Y/N felt like she was shrinking inside herself as she walked the too-quiet rooms of the brownstone. She and Raf had never had any children, although he had pushed her many times over the years, sometimes too far. But Y/N had been focused on her writing career, and not having children had made the divorce so much easier.
“Y/N Y/L/N? Oh my god it’s really you! Can I get an autograph?” A woman approached her in the supermarket, smiling widely and slightly jumping as she rushed up to Y/N.
“Oh, um, yes,” Y/N stammered, taking the notebook and pen the woman shoved in her face and signing it.
“Could I get a picture? The girls in my book club won’t believe it!”
“Sure,” Y/N smiled tightly, then tried to look pleasant as the woman wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in too close, smiling up at the phone raised high in her hand.
“Oh thank you!”
Y/N managed to slink away from the awkward conversation that was about to ensue and quickly finished her shopping before running back home. Her career had been successful, earning the top spot three times on the New York Times Best Sellers list, as well as book tours, big sequel book deals, and she was even in talks for one of her first books to become a movie. The books were what would be considered “spicy” or “dark romance.” She had no experience in actually having any spicy or dark romance in her real life. Raf had been extremely simple in the bedroom, and part of their divorce stemmed from his insecurity about her stories.
Six weeks after her divorce she had had enough. She sold the brownstone, everything of value in it, the fancy car, and bought the car of her dreams: a 1967 Volkswagen Beetle. It was something she had always wanted, but seemed impractical or Raf would always talk her out of it. She loaded what little she had left into the little light blue car and headed to Woodstock, Vermont.
Y/N had grown up in Woodstock. It was a very small but scenic town that thrived mostly on tourism because of its quaint, old America charm, and access to nearby hills that made for great snow sports. When she was 18 she had earned a full ride scholarship to NYU and had run from it as fast as she could. It was just too small, too stifling, but now as she was dealing with how big the world felt after her divorce, she ran back home in fear and trepidation of what to do next.
As she reached the city limits she heard the Beetle make a strange puttering sound. “Oh no, come on, B!” she groaned as the car started to shake and struggle. “So much for ‘it’s in tip top condition,’” she griped, pulling off the main street in town toward the first mechanic shop she saw. The Beetle sputtered to a stop and let out a high pitched whine as she turned off the engine. She sighed and got out of the car, kicking the tire before heading towards the shop door. A bell tinkled when she swung it open and she looked around at the shop’s front desk and waiting area. It was small, utilitarian, and very tidy. In the corner she was surprised to see a small play area for children that had a number of children’s books, a small table and chair, some coloring books and coloring pencils, and a little tea set on the table.
She smiled at the set up and walked over to the front desk. There was no one there and she looked around until she saw a doorbell button on the side of the desk with a small note taped to the desk countertop that read, “Press for Service.” Y/N pressed it and heard a doorbell ring noise from the shop behind the door beyond the desk.
“Coming!” she heard a male voice yell.
Y/N waited, looking around the room again until the door swung open. “Hey there, sorry I was working on something, what can I–” Y/N gasped when she saw who it was, and his wide eyes and open mouth matched hers. “Y/N?” he whispered.
“Bucky?” she whispered back.
Bucky’s shocked expression quickly changed into one of excitement as he smiled widely and threw his dirtied rag that he was holding on the desk. “No fucking way!” he yelled, rounding the desk and reaching out for her. Y/N gladly accepted the hug, giggling when he picked her up and swung her around as he held her tight.
“My God, Buck,” Y/N huffed when he set her down. “You look so grown!”
“Well, it has been, what…14 years since I last saw you?” Bucky said, looking at her with a disapproving but teasing look. “You look great.”
“Oh, thank you. So do you,” Y/N blushed. “So, you work here now?”
“I own this,” Bucky said, gesturing to the shop.
“Oh! That’s amazing!” Y/N said happily.
“Yeah, old man Pierce finally died and I took over it,” Bucky explained, smiling at the waiting room. “But hey, you’re a big writer in New York, right? I read your books.”
“Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t!” Y/N said with wide eyes.
“I did,” Bucky arched his eyebrows at her. “Very spicy stuff there, Y/L/N.”
Y/N hung her head in her hands, making Bucky laugh. “I want to die,” she whined.
“It’s okay, honey, they were spicy but good!” he reassured her, squeezing her arms. “I liked them. Especially that one about the uh, what was it, the mafia one?”
“Fucking hell,” Y/N shook her head, trying to hide her blush. “I know it sounds stupid, but you just never really think about people you grew up with reading your stuff?”
Bucky’s head fell back as he laughed. “Well, you’ve got a little fan club here in town,” he said.
“How embarrassing,” Y/N laughed.
Bucky stared at her for a minute. “Sorry, I just can’t believe you’re here…why are you here?” he asked with a frown.
“Well, uh, right now I’m here because my car broke down as I drove in,” she said, pointing to the Beetle outside.
Bucky turned and looked at the car, then looked back at her with a smile. “Got that Beetle you always wanted, huh?”
“Well, just recently, but yeah,” Y/N smiled, appreciating how he remembered how much she loved old Beetles.
“Well you came to the best mechanic in town,” he smirked. “Let me take a look.” She handed him her keys and followed him out to the car. Bucky popped the back and looked over the engine for a minute before sighing. “Yeah, looks like these belts need replacing,” he said, pointing at something that Y/N didn’t understand. “I’ll have to order them, or maybe dig around and see if I can find any nearby. It’ll probably take me a while,” he grimaced as he looked at her.
“I got nowhere to be,” Y/N shrugged. “So I’m happy to wait.”
“Great,” Bucky nodded, shutting the door. He pushed the Beetle into the garage and started making calls as Y/N sat in the waiting room. After twenty minutes he came in with another grimace on his face. “So, um…those specific belts won’t be delivered here for about three weeks.”
“That’s okay,” Y/N said quickly, shaking her head. “Like I said, I got nowhere to be.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you have a husband to get back to?”
Y/N sighed and shook her head again, looking away. “No, not anymore.”
Bucky froze for a moment before stepping forward and grabbing one of the other chairs, setting it in front of her so he could sit facing her. “Wanna talk about it?” he asked gently.
Y/N snorted. “What do you wanna know?”
“Everything,” he replied.
Y/N smiled. “Um…well, I was married to a very successful luxury home realtor,” she began, looking at her hands wringing in her lap. Her naked left ring finger still had an imprint from her old ring on her skin. “His name was Raphael. I called him Raf.” Bucky nodded, listening intently. “He was…kind. Funny. Very ambitious, which I liked at the time. But when my writing took off he became insecure, especially when I started out-earning him, and he felt emasculated by the stories I wrote.”
“Emasculated?” Bucky scoffed. “Why? He couldn’t get it up?”
Y/N laughed, Bucky joining her. “No, he was just very…vanilla, compared to what I wrote,” she explained, making Bucky nod in understanding. “Which I never minded, but he took some kind of weird offense to it and thought I expected too much of him in that department.”
“Idiot,” Bucky shook his head.
Y/N shrugged. “We had a few issues over the years. I was focused on my career, and he wanted me to have babies. There were a few times he, uh,” she looked away again, crossing her arms over her chest. “He was pushy about it. We never could get over it.”
“What do you mean, ‘pushy’?” Bucky frowned, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.
Y/N shrugged again, glancing at him. “It’s not a big deal, Buck.” He gave her an unimpressed look. “He…he tried to force me, a couple of times,” she said quietly, swallowing harshly. “Tampered with my birth control.”
Bucky’s frown deepened, a sharp huff blowing through his nose. His jaw ticked and he looked at his hands. He reached forward for her hands, and she met him halfway. He studied her hands, his right thumb gliding over her empty ring finger. “I’m sorry, honey,” he said quietly, finally looking back up at her. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m glad you got out.”
Y/N stared at his intense eyes. He’d always had a way of looking straight into her soul with those eyes, the bright blue stunning her every time. He was an incredibly cute teenager, and seeing him as a full grown adult now, with some patches of silver dotting his beard on his chin, the fine lines deepened in the corners of his eyes, he was even more handsome. Bucky had been her number one when they were kids, he and his family taking her in when her parents were negligent and uncaring. Even though they had only ever been friends, he’d been her first kiss before she left for college. It was like their final farewell before she went off to bigger and better things, while he stayed home, unable to get scholarships or have enough money to go anywhere but a trade school. They had lost touch, but she always thought of him and how he was doing.
“Thanks…Sugar,” she winked at him.
Bucky’s eyes widened before a wide smile spread across his face again and he hung his head as she laughed. “Man, you’re never going to let that go, are you?” he groaned.
“Nope,” Y/N shook her head. She squeezed his hands. “But seriously, thank you.”
“I hope you got everything out of him in the divorce,” Bucky said, letting go of her hands and sitting back in the chair.
“I did very well,” Y/N nodded. “I had a great lawyer. And it was helpful that he wasn’t very good at hiding his affair.”
“Affair?” Bucky scoffed. “That fucker cheated on you?”
“Well, who else was he going to get babies from, Buck?” Y/N asked teasingly, raising her eyebrows.
Bucky rubbed his face harshly. “Asshole.”
“Tell me about it,” she grimaced. “But basically, I got to keep all my book earnings, and since we were married for a while and he out-earned me those first few years, I’ll be getting alimony. And I sold almost everything before I drove here, so I should be set for a while.”
“Good,” Bucky smirked. “But why come back here to Woodstock of all places?”
Y/N stared at him. “I actually don’t know,” she frowned. “New York just suddenly felt…too big.”
Bucky watched her for a moment. “Do you have a place to stay?”
“No,” Y/N shook her head. “Is the hotel on Idalia still there?”
Bucky frowned. “Yeah, but it’s still a shithole. You’re not staying there.” Y/N sighed. “You can stay with me,” he offered.
“Oh, no Buck that’s okay, I don’t wanna intrude–”
“You won’t be.”
“What about…do you have a girlfriend...wife?”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “But I do have a daughter.”
Y/N’s mouth dropped open in shock. “A daughter?” He smiled and nodded. “Oh my god!” Y/N smiled widely. “Is that what this is for?” she asked, gesturing to the play area in the waiting room.
“Yep,” Bucky nodded. “Though she’s far too big for tea sets now.”
“How old is she? What’s her name? Wait, where’s her mom? I’m sorry, is that rude of me to ask? I’m just curious–”
“Breathe, honey,” Bucky interrupted her. “Her name is Autumn. She’s about to turn ten. Her mom and I met while I was at trade school at a party. We were both too drunk and irresponsible. By the time I learned about Autumn her mother was trying to give her away for adoption. She was Catholic and hid the pregnancy from her family, then tried to get rid of the baby once she was born.” Y/N frowned. “I took her and her mom signed away her rights. Haven’t seen or heard from her since.”
Y/N nodded but her frown stayed. “I’m sorry, Buck,” she said quietly.
“It’s okay,” he shrugged. “She’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me. It was hard, but I wouldn’t change a thing. My mom has been a huge help. Speaking of which,” he leaned forward again. “In exchange for me fixing your car, you can help babysit Autumn until I get off work. Ma’s getting old and can’t quite keep up with her anymore.”
“You’ll…you’ll fix my car for free, and let me stay with you for the foreseeable future, as long as I watch your daughter?” Y/N scoffed.
“Yep,” Bucky nodded, his smirk returning. “Best friends help each other out.”
“True,” Y/N smiled. She contemplated it for a moment. “Deal,” she said, holding her hand out.
Bucky laughed and took her hand, shaking it firmly. “Deal,” he said.
#marvel#bucky barnes#smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#series fanfic#chapter 1#spicy books
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I just found your blog and I love the way you set up your headcanons!!
Could I request your take on soulmate aus for all the boys? Like, what kind of soulmate system would each of them have, how would they meet their fated person? Does it go smoothly, or is it a bumpy ride?
💌 Reply:
Ahhh, thank you so much for the love and this adorable request! 💜 I’ was so thrilled to dive into BTS Soulmate AUs and i really hope it's what you imagined and that it is to your liking 💜 ... Have fun - C -
NAMJOON
Intellectual Slow Burn
HOW YOU MEET
tiny indie bookstore in Mapo-gu
shelves crammed with philosophy and poetry
Namjoon frequents it weekly
always in the same corner - floor cushion #3
green tea cooling beside him
you’re the part-time clerk who restocks the “Existentialism” section every Thursday
you both annotate books with sticky notes
leaving thoughts for strangers
one day, you pick up Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra
you find his note: “Is the Übermensch just a coping mechanism for capitalism? (asking for a friend) – RM”
your reply: “No, but your sticky notes are. – Y/N”
DETAILS
His Notes
philosophical musings in tiny
precise handwriting, dotted with coffee stains
he underlines quotes about self-love and the universe’s indifference
Your Notes
sarcastic quips in purple gel pen
doodles of crying clouds next to Camus passages
The Book That Changes Everything
a battered copy of The Little Prince
he writes: “Do you think the rose ever apologized for being high maintenance?”
you respond: “The fox did all the emotional labor. Discuss.”
FIRST CONVERSATION
Where
booshop
8 PM
rain taps the windows
he’s clutching The Myth of Sisyphus like a lifeline
What He Says
“So. You’re the one who called Kant a ‘coward in a wig.’” (Rubs his neck, glasses fogging.)
“I... I brought banana milk. As a… peace offering? For the capitalism thing.”
His Thoughts
“She’s prettier than her handwriting. Way prettier. Abort mission... wait, is that a Demian reference on her tote bag?”
HOW HE APPROACHES
Phase 1
leaves longer notes with his phone number scribbled in Morse code
you decode it while he pretends to browse
Phase 2
“accidentally” drops his favorite fountain pen near your counter
note inside:
“Dinner? I’ll let you rant about Heidegger.”
Phase 3
you hesitate
he blurts:
“I’m not good at this. But I’m really good at… listening. And losing umbrellas. Mainly listening.”
HOW YOU GET TOGETHER
Timeline
Week 1-4
notes escalate to essay-length debates in the margins of Rilke poetry
Week 5
first “date” at a 24-hour diner
he brings a 3-page bullet-point list
titled “Reasons I Might Be Annoying (Please Critique)”
Week 8
takes you to Seoul Forest
kneels to fix your shoelace
muttering:
“I think… I’m yours. If you’ll have me. And my overthinking.”
DETAILS pt. 2
Glasses Move
adjusts them three times when nervous
you count them during his confession
Banana Milk
always keeps a carton in his bag
“in case of existential emergencies"
Secret Playlist
makes you a lo-fi mix titled “Margin Notes”
samples of bookstore ambient noise
track 7: “Pause for Highlighters.”
Bookmark Gift
carves you a wooden bookmark with “NamKimdiary” on the back (his old Tumblr username)
KEY DIALOGUE
After Your First Kiss
“I’ve written a thousand metaphors about love. None of them… this.”
When You Fight
“I’d rather lose every debate than lose you. Even if you’re wrong about Sartre.”
Proposal (Years Later)
slips a note into your shared copy of The Little Prince:
“Tame me?”
JIN
Culinary Chaos to Comfort
HOW YOU MEET
a Michelin-starred restaurant in Gangnam
Jin is the elusive "Chef Kim"
known for emotional tasting menus
you’re a food critic
anonymously reviewing his dishes
every course he creates makes you feel his hidden emotions
loneliness in a bitter chocolate soufflé
joy in honey-drizzled tteokbokki
you taste the true emotion behind his dishes
he receives anonymous letters about his food = your critiques
they inexplicably quote his inner thoughts
DETAILS
His Dishes
Jjajangmyeon that tastes like nostalgia
= his childhood memories of cooking with his mom
Bingsu that bursts with loneliness
= his early trainee days
Your Reviews
“The sea urchin risotto screamed, ‘I miss my brothers.’ Hire a therapist, Chef.”
“The kimchi stew is perfection, but why does it taste like you’re afraid of being forgotten?”
FIRST CONVERSATION
Where
his restaurant’s kitchen
2 AM
corners you after you sneak in to confront him
What He Says
“You. You’re the one who called my soufflé ‘a cry for help in dessert form.’”
arms crossed, apron splattered with gochujang
“Do you have any idea how many chefs cried because of your ‘constructive feedback’?”
pauses, then smirks
“…It was kinda hot.”
His Thoughts
“She’s got a resting critic face, but her eyes… they see me. Wait... did she just steal a dumpling?
HOW HE APPROACHES
Phase 1
leaves a mystery dish at your doorstep daily
each meal paired with a dad joke: “Why did the tomato blush? Because it saw the salad dressing… and also you.”
Phase 2
invites you to a “private tasting”
just him cooking army stew in sweatpants
“No Michelin rules. Just… us.”
Phase 3
call him out for hiding behind jokes
he admits:
“I’m scared you’ll taste the mess I really am.”
HOW YOU GET TOGETHER
Timeline
Month 1
exchange angry sticky notes on his fridge
he doodles himself as a crying onion
Month 2
crashes your live mukbang stream
shouting:
“That’s my japchae! And my future wife!”
trends for a week
Month 3
cooks you a five-course meal where every dish tastes like unconditional love
no words
just a ring hidden in a bubble tea pearl
DETAILS pt.2
Dad Joke Diary:
keeps a notebook of jokes to make you laugh
#1: Why don’t eggs tell jokes? They’d crack up… like you do at 3 AM.
Secret Ingredient
adds a pinch of sugar to every savory dish he makes you
“To match your smile.”
Mukbang Cameos
sneaks into your streams wearing a Gucci apron
shouting “EAT THIS, NOT THAT!”
feeding you strawberries
Birthday Surprise
recreates an "I Purple You” live setup in your kitchen
“This time, it’s our color.”
KEY DIALOGUE
During a Fight
“You think I’m just ‘Worldwide Handsome’? I’m terrified you’ll realize I’m just… Jin.”
First “I Love You”
“I don’t need a Michelin star. I just need you to taste this.”
feeds you a strawberry that bursts with devotion
Proposal
“Marry me. I’ll annoy you with dad jokes for eternity… and make sure you never eat alone again.”
YOONGI
Silent Understanding & Creative Synchronicity
HOW YOU MEET
late-night music production studio in Hongdae
Yoongi works under the pseudonym "Agust D"
you’re a lyricist for indie artists
known only by your pen name "Shadow"
your words and his beats have been paired anonymously by a streaming algorithm
= creating viral hits
you’ve never met
your lyrics and his instrumentals align too perfectly
every time he uploads a track labeled “Unfinished”
you fill in the gaps with verses that mirror his unspoken emotions
fans call it “fate’s playlist”
DETAILS
His Tracks
haunting piano melodies with gaps in the rhythm
as if waiting for words
song titled “Interlude: Ghost”
muffled voice memo:
“Someone out there… knows.”
Your Lyrics
raw, introspective verses about isolation and quiet hope
they trend every time he drops a beat
bridge for his track “The Last”
reads:
“I built these walls, but you’re the echo in the hall.”
FIRST CONVERSATION
Where
24-hour coffee shop near his studio
he recognizes your voice from a podcast where you dissected his “Daechwita” instrumental
What He Says
“You’re Shadow.”
no greeting, just a tired smirk
slides you a USB drive
labeled “Track 08 – Fix It.”
“The last line you wrote… ‘the static in my veins.’ Why?”
stirs his black coffee
avoiding eye contact
His Thoughts
“She’s younger than I imagined. But her eyes... they’ve seen the same nights as me. Damn, she’s good.”
HOW HE APPROACHES
Phase 1
leaves cryptic notes in the metadata of his tracks
“Meet me at 3 AM. – D”
show up at the studio with a thermos of honey citron tea
Phase 2
collaborates with you anonymously
a song called “Burn It pt.2”
changes the final chorus to “Stay.”
Phase 3
after a year of demos, he sends a track titled “First Love”
no melody
just his voice:
“I’m bad at this. But… let’s try.”
HOW YOU GET TOGETHER
Timeline
Year 1
anonymous collabs
notices you quote his live rants in your lyrics
Year 2
confront him after recognizing his piano riff from an old Bangtan Bomb
“You’re Agust D. Why hide?”
Year 3
he produces a fully instrumental track for your poetry book
liner notes read:
“Your words were my first language.”
DETAILS pt.2
Studio Ritual
leaves the window open when he wants you to visit
playing “Seesaw” on loop
Secret Track
hidden file on his SoundCloud named “Glossary_Of_Us”
has snippets of your voice
Lyric Easter Egg
quotes your first-ever verse in his SUGA mixtape sequel:
“The static’s gone. Now it’s just us.”
Coffee Cup Codes
draws tiny piano keys on your takeout cups
he’s too shy to say “I miss you.”
KEY DIALOGUE
When You Confront Him
“I don’t believe in soulmates. But you… you’re a glitch I can’t fix.”
First Duet Session
“Your voice isn’t perfect. Good. Neither am I.”
Proposal
samples your laugh into a song titled “Forever Interlude.”
credits list: “Feat. My Forever First LOVE.”
J-HOPE
Collaborative Growth & Digital to Real-Life Connection
HOW YOU MEET
on a global dance challenge app called SyncSteps
users upload videos and are algorithmically paired with "rhythm partners."
Hobi joins anonymously under the handle SunshineDance
you’re a shy dance enthusiast
using the app to overcome stage fright
posting under ShadowSteps
the app’s AI matches you based on complementary styles
your fluid, expressive movements sync perfectly with his sharp, energetic choreography
your collaborations go viral
you don’t know each other’s identities
DETAILS
His Videos
crisp, powerful routines tagged with motivational captions:
“You’re one step closer to shining!”
a freestyle titled “Midnight Groove”
= he leaves a frame empty
urging you to fill it:
“Your turn, Shadow.”
Your Videos
intimate, emotion-driven dances in dimly lit rooms
your first upload caption:
“For the girl in the mirror who’s still learning.”
a response to Midnight Groove where you dance in a sunlit studio,
caption: “Found the light.”
FIRST CONVERSATION
Where
app’s chat feature
he messages after your first collab goes viral
What He Says
“Your flow is 🔥! But why hide your face? The world needs to see you.”
adds a sunflower emoji
“I’ll teach you a confidence combo. Step 1: Pretend the mirror is your best friend. Step 2: Steal their swag.”
His Thoughts
“She’s got raw talent, but she’s holding back. Let’s change that… gently.”
HOW HE APPROACHES
Phase 1
creates personalized warm-ups for you
tagging you in posts:
“@ShadowSteps – this one’s for your left side hesitation.”
Phase 2
sends voice notes with pep talks
disguised as "dance tips":
“Remember, mistakes are just freestyle opportunities!”
Phase 3
after months of collaboration, he slips his number into a private video description:
“Text me. Let’s choreograph IRL.”
HOW YOU GET TOGETHER
Timeline
Month 1-6
viral collabs
late-night app chats
he nicknames you “Shadow Warrior.”
Month 7 - 8
you join a live workshop he hosts
masked, like your videos
he recognizes your signature wrist flick mid-session
Month 9
invites you to co-choreograph a piece for his dance crew
at rehearsal, he pulls off his cap:
“Surprise. It’s your Sunshine.”
DETAILS pt.2
Playlist Clues
his practice mixes include BTS’s “Butter” remixes
track #7 is always “Chicken Noodle Soup”
= your first collab choreo song
Signature Move
adds a tiny hop to routines when he’s happy
you mimic it in your videos
Secret Code
uses yellow post-it notes during IRL performances
“YOU GOT THIS”
= the same phrase from his app comments
Meme King
sends you edits of your dances with dancing carrot GIFs
captioned: “When you finally nail the combo.”
KEY DIALOGUE
When You Reveal Your Face
“I knew you’d be beautiful. But damn, you’re a supernova.”
During a Setback
“We don’t ‘fail.’ We freestyle. Now grab my hand and trust the beat.”
Confession
“I fell for you in 8-counts. But I’ll love you in infinite ones.”
JIMIN
Emotional Mirrors, Artistic Synchronicity
HOW YOU MEET
global photography platform called Frame & Soul
users submit photos
paired algorithmically with "emotional complements."
Jimin posts under JM_Eyes
you’re a introspective travel photographer
posting as Silhouette_Shots
app pairs your photos based on unspoken emotions
his shot of a rainy Seoul alley at 3 AM syncs with your sunrise over a deserted beach
both tagged “loneliness and hope.”
your galleries become a silent dialogue
DETAILS
His Photos
moody, intimate shots:
half-empty wine glass backstage
his shadow stretching across a rehearsal floor
crumpled lyric sheets.
self-portrait of his reflection in a broken mirror captioned:
“Pieces of me I can’t name.”
Your Photos
stark, vivid contrasts:
a lone flower in a cracked sidewalk
storm clouds parting over a cityscape
a response to his mirror photo:
“Even broken glass reflects light.”
FIRST CONVERSATION
Where:
Frame & Soul exhibition in Busa
your paired photos are displayed side-by-side
recognizes your style instantly
What He Says
“You’re Silhouette_Shots.”
voice soft
eyes tracing your photo
“How did you… see that?”
“Your picture of the ocean... it felt like my choreography. Heavy, but… free.”
His Thoughts
“She’s quieter than I imagined. But her hands, they’ve held cameras and courage. God, she’s beautiful.”
HOW HE APPROACHES
Phase 1
leaves cryptic comments on your photos:
“Your shadows have better rhythm than me.”
attaches a video of him dancing to your sunset photo’s timestamp
Phase 2
sends you a disposable camera with a note:
“Capture something I’ve never seen. I’ll do the same.”
return it with a shot of dandelions surviving concrete
sends back a photo of his bare feet on a studio floor
matching your caption:
“Roots in unexpected places.”
Phase 3
invites you to a silent photo walk through Seoul
communicates only through his camera lens
guiding you to his favorite hidden spots
HOW YOU GET TOGETHER
Timeline
Month 1-3
viral photo pairs
late-night app DMs dissecting light and shadow
Month 4
sneaks you into his dance studio
choreographing a piece inspired by your storm cloud series
“You’re my muse. But I’m… scared to be yours.”
Month 6
you collaborate on a photo book titled “Unspoken.”
final page is his shot of two coffee cups with steam forming a heart
your caption: “Developed.”
DETAILS pt.2
Polaroid Habit
leaves Polaroids in your bag
doodled arrows pointing to his favorite parts of your face
Dance Codes
humming “Serendipity” when he’s nervous
then denying it
“It’s… a vocal exercise.”
Exhibition Easter Egg
hides a tiny JM logo in the corner of his photos
matching your SS watermark
Secret Project
films a dance video
his movements trace the shapes of your photographs
credits list: “Choreography by Us.”
KEY DIALOGUE
When You Doubt Your Art
“You think your photos are just ‘pretty’? They’re alive. Like you.”
First Kiss
“I’ve danced for millions. But this… this is the first time I’ve felt the audience.”
Confession
“I used to chase perfection. Now I just chase your light.”
TAEHYUNG
Tangible Connections & Nostalgic Serendipity
HOW YOU MEET
a cozy vintage shop in Daegu named Timeless Treasures
known for its eclectic mix of retro cameras, vinyl records, and handwritten letters tucked inside secondhand books
Taehyung frequents the shop
leaving behind curated items with cryptic notes
you’re a freelance writer
you discover his first note inside a 1970s film camera:
“Capture the moments everyone else forgets. – V”
you both leave meaningful objects for each other in the shop
accompanied by handwritten stories or questions
the shop owner, a wise elderly woman, acts as a silent guardian
she's placing your items in a dedicated corner
labeled: “Soul Exchange.”
DETAILS
His Items
a saxophone pin with a note:
“For the jazz in your soul. Play it loud.”
pressed maple leaf from his childhood home:
“Autumn remembers what summer forgets.”
Gucci scarf (fake) with:
“Even fakes can feel real if you believe.”
Your Responses
a typewriter key (the letter “V”) and a poem:
“Words fail, but keys don’t lie.”
mismatched teacup with a story about your grandmother:
“Broken things brew the best stories.”
FIRST CONVERSATION
Where
shop’s dusty record aisle
catches you inspecting his latest gift
= a vinyl of “Fly Me to the Moon”
a note: “Dance like no one’s watching… but me.”
What He Says
“You’re the one who took my camera.”
grins, holding up your poem
“Your words taste like hobakjuk; sweet, but… lonely.”
“Why a typewriter key? I’ve been staring at it for weeks.”
tilts his head, curiosity sparking
His Thoughts
“She writes like she’s lived a thousand lives. And her smile... god, it’s brighter than my flashbulbs.”
HOW HE APPROACHES
Phase 1
leaves a blank journal titled “Our Untold Stories”
a challenge: “Fill this. I’ll do the rest.”
you respond with a tale about a boy who speaks in riddles
Phase 2
gifts you a polaroid camera and a map of Daegu with circled locations:
“Show me your city.”
your photos of abandoned theaters and sunlit alleys become his muse
Phase 3
sends a vinyl record with a hidden track
his hummed rendition of “Winter Bear”
label reads: “For the girl who hears my silence.”
HOW YOU GET TOGETHER
Timeline
Month 1-5:
exchanging objects and stories
nicknames you “Time Traveler” in his notes
Month 6
you find a script titled “The Boy in the Beret”
a play about a man who falls for a stranger’s words
final page: “Auditions: Tomorrow. 7 PM. Bring the teacup.”
Month 7
the shop’s annual “Nostalgia Night”
he wears the saxophone pin you gifted him
you arrive with his Gucci scarf
owner smiles: “Took you two long enough.”
DETAILS pt.2
Beret Code
wears a red beret on days he plans to leave you something
nod to his fashion
Secret Stash
hides cocoa in the shop’s fridge for you
labeled “For the Writer’s Block.”
Vinyl Clue
his “Winter Bear” vinyl has a scratched groove that plays “I purple you” when spun backward
ARMY Nod
leaves a BT21 Tata keychain with a note:
“Found this alien. Think it’s yours.”
KEY DIALOGUE
When You Confront Him
“You think this is a game? I’ve been writing us into existence since day one.”
First Date
takes you to a silent film screening
whispers: “Dialogue is overrated. Just feel it.”
Confession
“I collect vintage souls. But you… you’re timeless.”
JUNGKOOK
Competitive Synergy, Digital to Real-Life Bond
HOW YOU MEET
online multiplayer game called Arena Legends
players worldwide compete in team-based strategy battles
Jungkook, a top-ranked player, goes by the alias GoldenJK
you’re a rising star known as Valkyrie
notorious for your unorthodox tactics
the game’s algorithm pairs you as rivals in ranked matches
your playstyles clash yet complement perfectly
aggression meets precision
game’s AI assigns you as Nemesis Partners
= rare status where rivals share exclusive challenges
each victory unlocks a personalized clue about the other player
Jungkook’s clues hint at his art
“A rabbit doodle in the killfeed”
yours tease your love for indie music
“A lyric snippet in the chat log”
DETAILS
His Gaming Traits
Aggressive yet strategic
dominates matches with bold moves
always protects teammates
leaves golden bunny emojis in the chat after wins
Your Gaming Traits
creative sabotage
use map glitches and unexpected combos
posts montages titled “How to Outsmart a Golden Bunny.”
secretly drop song lyrics as taunts:
“You’re my favorite mistake.”
FIRST CONVERSATION
Where
Nemesis Partner chat room
unlocked after your 10th match
What He Says
“ValkyrieV. Your playstyle… it’s like watching abstract art. Chaotic. Beautiful.”
sends a bunny emoji
“Why the lyric spam? You a BTS fan or just trying to distract me?”
winks via emoji
His Thoughts
“She’s ruthless. But when she revives teammates? Soft. I need to know her IRL.”
HOW HE APPROACHES
Phase 1
creates a custom map titled “Rabbit Hole”
hidden ARMY references
final clue: “Find me where the sky is purple.”
= his favorite Seoul rooftop
Phase 2
sends you a mystery USB drive containing a game mod.
transforms his avatar into a golden knight
guarding a pixel-art version of your hometown
Phase 3
challenges you to an IRL match at a PC bang
shows up wearing a bunny hoodie
controller in hand: “No avatars. Just us.”
HOW YOU GET TOGETHER
Timeline
Week 1-4
toxic rivalry turns into respectful banter
screenshares his art mid-match
you play “Euphoria” over voice chat
Month 2
you team up for a charity tournament
his avatar sacrifices itself to save yours
“Why’d you do that?!”
“Couldn’t let my nemesis die.”
Month 3
invites you to his studio
you find a painting of your ValkyrieV avatar
caption: “My Greatest Opponent. My Only Equal.”
DETAILS pt.2
Gamer Tag Easter Egg
username GoldenJK rearranges to “Jungkook Loves ARMY.” later
IRL Clues
wears a BT21 Cooky keychain during streams
you gift him a golden bunny sticker for his laptop
Secret Mod
codes a private server
your avatars dance to “Still With You” under pixelated stars
Post-Win Ritual
sends you banana milk deliveries with notes:
“For the victor. Next time, though…”
KEY DIALOGUE
During a Match
“You fight like you’ve got everything to lose. Why?”
“Because I hate losing to rabbits.”
First IRL Meet
“You’re… shorter than your avatar.”
“And you’re exactly as cocky as yours.”
Confession
“I used to play to win. Now I play to hear you laugh.”
#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts#bts army#magicshopstories#bangtan fanfic#bts headcanons#bts soulmate au#bts au#namjoon imagine#jin imagines#suga imagine#yoongi imagine#jimin imagine#jhopeimagine#taehyung imagine#jungkook imagine#suga headcanons#yoongiheadcanons#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts x you#bts x y/n#bts namjoon#bts jimin#bts jungkook#bts jin#bts jhope#bts jk#bts yoongi
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I had to sign to the Devil now I’m on
Alpha!Rafe Cameron & Alpha!JJ Maybank x Omega!reader
TW: 18+ MDNI, NON-CON, DUBCON, afab!reader, reader being called “honey” most of the time, toxic alpha behavior, threesome, rough unprotected P in V, creampie, fingering, squirting, oral ( f receiving), choking,degradation, biting, primal play (non-consensual), a/b/o terminologies, marking/bonding, spitting, (let me know if I have missed anything!)

Author’s note: screw my halloween thingy. i clearly underestimated myself by thinking that I can write something short and call it a day while working full-time and writing book reviews as a side job lol. love you all and thanks for sticking around!
P.s. this is not beta’d hehe. We die like men.
“Do you need anything else?” Concern was evident on your mother’s voice, her shadow showing that she’s still outside your door, patiently waiting for an answer. “I-I’m fine mom..” you breathlessly answered “I t-think I can h-handle this for now.. thank you.” Before you even finished thanking her, another wave of nausea made you stumble towards you toilet. You tried to empty your stomach that was already empty for days now, puking your heart out.
Hearing you vomiting, your mom entered the room and held your hair out of the way, kneeling with you while rubbing soft circles on your back. She helped you cleaned up yourself, gently laying you down on your bed before arranging an array of snacks and microwaveable soups near your desk along with medication that might help ease out the pain and.. heat spells.
“I will ask your dad to give you space, we will go out for a few days, I know how much you hate our scents at this time. I am so sorry honey I cannot help you—“ “it’s alright mom. This is already too much.” You smiled at her, easing her nerves before quickly pressing a kiss on your forehead, trying not to overwhelm you with her own scent. “Just message us once you feel like its over, okay? Or anything, really.” Giving a curt nod, she left your room, hearing her softly talking to your dad.
Both of your parents are Alphas, based on the genetics class that you took, you have to be an Alpha as well. Everyone around you presented months ahead of you, some even years. Being the only late-bloomer at a small town, word quickly travelled and you were labelled as the “odd” one. You ignored them though, confidently assuring yourself that you are going to be one of the small numbers of being an Alpha. Omegas were very rare as well, yet you would rather be an Alpha with how severe Omega heats are. And as far as you know, if an Omega presents, their heat immediately follows. You really don’t want to be handling two major things in one sitting.
Something in your gut was not feeling right as you listen to your lecturer, taking notes on all the possible symptoms for every class.
You were having a small crisis during one of your breaks at the university, frustrated at still not having a status on the ‘hierarchy’ while ignoring texts from 2 annoying people that you try not to meet on campus every day. Your phone kept on vibrating, making you sigh in annoyance and proceeding to block those 2 numbers despite knowing that they will find another way to send you messages.
The two annoying people that got blocked was JJ and Rafe, who happens to be the top Alphas on the campus that you pay no mind to. Who also happens to be the people you have drunkenly slept with after a night long of partying for the first time. Waking up sandwiched in between of them, all three of you covered in bites and hickeys, your mind quickly presented every possible thing that the woman at campus might do to you. You carefully slide out of their hold and quickly dressed up, tiptoed your way out without even leaving a note.
You tried to act normal the next day, thinking that if you don’t pay any attention to them they wouldn’t notice you nor remember what happened that night. But with how heavy their gazes are towards you, you quickly realised that they are not on the same page as you are. Confusion ate you as to why would it bother them, but you continued to avoid them and their gazes. It was quiet for a while, before they started texting you. It went from “Hi. Its JJ :)��� “Hey its Rafe” to “Would really love to feel you again” “you were so hot that night” which made your cheeks burn in embarrassment, quickly deleting their messages, only to be met with a new number and tons of missed calls.
You do not get their obsession at all, cause you are pretty sure you were hammered that night. Shots after shots, cocktails after cocktails, you were sure you just got wild and did the usual things to them that would be done with a normal hook up. You did not expect your first time partying to end up in their arms, but sure as hell you do not want to experience whatever might happen if word goes out that you slept with the “hottest” people in your university.
Sighing, you stared at your melting smoothie. The gloomy weather was affecting you as you slowly face the sky. You looked down at your sprawled out notes, trying to talk to yourself to study instead of overthinking about when you would present. The sky looks gloomier, making you quickly pack your things as it looks like its going to rain, when suddenly you felt dizzy.
You quickly balanced yourself, clutching your bag near your chest in shock. You were just thinking on what might be the reason before another wave of dizziness hits you once again. Sitting down slowly on the bench, you quickly messaged your bestfriend if she can take you home. Your best friend immediately came to where you are, helping you on her car. “Holy fuck you look so pale” she commented in the middle of the drive towards your house, your hair sticking at your nape and your forehead as you feel hot and cold at the same time.
Your best friend told your parents what happened, letting you rest. A few days rest would be enough, you thought. That clearly did not work. 5 days went by like a blur, days were spent on having the highest fever ever to vomiting the soup that you ate for lunch. And with how severe and noticeable the symptoms are, your parents chose to go out for a while to not overwhelm you with their pheromones, leaving you alone.
The nausea that you had throughout those days was replaced with something more embarrassing and something that made you cry in frustration. The sudden heat and wetness that kept on pooling on your legs with the excessive amount of releasing pheromones into the air only meant one thing.. you’re presenting as an Omega and you’re having your first heat.
You laid down sweaty on your bed, the room stuffy and boiling hot for you despite the cold autumn air entering through your windows and the AC that you have turned on. A wave of pleasure had hit your body, your hands pushing down the garter of your soaking wet underwear, immediately slipping two fingers in your deprived pussy. You mewled at the sudden feeling, thrusting your fingers almost immediately to relieve yourself. Holding your legs up, you continued to pump your fingers in and out to reach the climax that seems so far away. You cried out in frustration, stopping your actions when you’ve realized that whatever you’re doing is not and won’t be enough unless its an Alpha.
You quickly grabbed your phone beside, messaging your bestfriend about your situation.
“I am hundred percent certain that I’m presenting as an Omega and I’m having my first heat. Do you mind telling Pope to— you know..? Visit me.. if he’s there at the party”
Pope was your safest bet for an Alpha to help you out. The guy was the kindest and definitely one of the smartest people you have ever met, so you trust that whatever he would do would help you and ease the pain. There was a sudden pain in your chest from your heat that pushed you to release more of your scent, you’re breathing so fast that you try to ease the pain by curling into a ball. Waiting for it stop, you heard your phone pinged and quickly took a look at your bestfriend’s message that says “Oh shit, I’m on it 🫡”
You waited for what seems to be hours, as your heat becomes more and more unmanageable. You tried to look decent at least, a red, thin silk nightgown that sits on your body perfect and a properly brushed hair before swiping some strawberry lipgloss. You felt bare and nervous with Pope seeing you in this state, but you cannot help at thinking that this might be a step on having a serious relationship with someone reliable and can help you out with your cycles.
The doorbell rang, making you gulp nervously before trotting downstairs to open the door slightly and what you saw just made your stomach drop along with your smile. “What the hell are you both doing here?” You asked with squinted eyes, holding the doorknob tightly.
JJ’s huge smile greeted you while Rafe just smirked in amusement. “Are you that disappointed to see us?” JJ asked, making you squint harder at him in annoyance. Rafe just chuckled before pouting to mock at your expression, leaning on the door frame which made you close the door a bit more. “Aww, she doesn’t wanna see us.” “Shut up. I asked you guys a question, what are you both doing here?” You continued, trying not to get overwhelmed with both of their scents as you will yourself not to give in.
“Well, we heard something from a little birdie that someone has presented as an Omega and well.. that someone, requires some top Alpha service.” JJ answered behind Rafe, a menacing smile on his face as he stares on your paling face. “Mhm,” Rafe nods in agreement before slightly pushing the door, gripping the edge tightly. “Do you know who that new Omega is?” The slight push exposed your thin nightgown, and based on Rafe’s darkening expression and JJ’s slightly wide eyes, you knew that you’re running out of time to push them away.
“I don’t know what you guys are talking about.” With an eye roll, you were about to slam the door, when both of them pushed it to stop you. You were still holding the door knob so you tried to push it close only to be met with resistance. “Seriously, you’re fucking choosing Pope? When you have us?” Rafe asks, his blue eyes staring at you so intently as he try to sneak a peek at your body behind the door. You heard JJ sigh, laying his palm flat on your door, hearing the clunk of his rings. “You know.. I feel a bit betrayed. You, choosing a good friend of mine, instead of me? Have you forgotten what you said to us THAT night?”
His emphasis made you shut your eyes, the image of their bare torsos flooding your memory and their breathless sighs made you clench your legs, unknowingly releasing some pheromones into the air that wafted straight into their nostrils. Both taking a deep breath, your scent smelling like amber, honey, and vanilla, making both of them salivate. You snapped out of your daze when you noticed them being quiet, realising your mistake when you noticed that their eyes are almost black,irises swallowing the pretty blue hues of their orbs.
You tried to push the door shut once again, both Rafe and JJ trying to push it open. “Open the door, honey. Come on.” Rafe said menacingly, staring you down. The vast difference of your size to them made you shiver in fear and anticipation on what they might do to you. You slapped yourself mentally before trying to push it shut again. JJ clicked his tongue before sighing “That’s it.” He mumbled under his breath before giving Rafe a short nod. Rafe just smirked before they both gave the door one solid push, making you tumble backwards.
Preventing yourself from falling backwards, you immediately balanced yourself, slowly stepping back while maintaining eye contact with the two. Your heart is pounding inside your chest so loud that you can hear it together with your heavy breaths. Rafe and JJ’s stature just scares you, their toned arms ready to capture you as they walk towards you like a predator catching its prey. When a click was heard with JJ shutting the door, you quickly grabbed whatever was near you, which happens to be a vase, and threw it towards the two.
With Rafe being the closest, he barely managed to dodge it, scraping the side of his arm. He just looked at you, snapping his neck as he chuckles. “Oh woohh..” he exhaled, a menacing smirk on his lips as JJ just laughed beside him. “You shouldn’t have done that.” He growled lowly, not taking his eyes of your quivering form. “Run, honey. Cause once we catch you—“ you did not even let JJ finished his sentence before you start running upstairs, hearing their laughter echoing throughout the empty house.
You were panicking, trying to wrack your brain on where to hide. Your house was a decent size, so even though there’s not much place to hide, you still knew what places they might not even spare a glance. You crawled inside a spacious cupboard that is concealed behind the door in your guest bathroom, talking to yourself inside your head to slow down your breathing.
“Honey~ come out, come out wherever you are~” JJ called out in a singsong way while Rafe just chuckled. You heard their steps getting closer before hearing them walk away to check whatever room they haven’t checked. Covering your mouth in fear, you closed your eyes to stop yourself from shivering. You just wanted this to end, this fucking heat. This situation. This was far from what you wanted already, from discovering you’re an omega to seeing the people that you hate so much outside of your house instead of Pope.
It was suspiciously quiet, yet you did not move. You were still trying to control your thoughts and your shivering body, your hair sticking into your skin with how warm you are feeling because of your heat and because of the cramped space. You felt another ripple of pleasure, making you close your eyes shut. “Not now, not now, not now” you plead to yourself, the heat being way more worse after the confrontation. You didn’t hear anything from outside. Trusting your gut feeling, you removed your hands from your mouth and finally opened your eyes.
Only to be met with Rafe and JJ’s big smile that made the blood drain from your face.
“Boo.”
A deafening scream escaped your throat as Rafe grabbed you out of your hiding space, your arm suffering from a bruising grip. You did not stop trying to hit him or JJ even when he carried you over his shoulder, trying to hit his back while also aiming to kick JJ. Rafe smacked your ass, the pain immediately traveling to your wet core. JJ smelled it in the air, watching you sob as Rafe plopped you down on your bed. They both stared at your disheveled state, your nightgown sticking to your skin, highlighting your pebbled nipples that are now evident thanks to the cold air from you open window.
Both men did not waste any time, taking off their clothes as you watch in shock. You cannot help your eyes trailing down, from their faces that showed no other emotion than want, to their taut arms and muscles. Your eyes widened when you saw how huge their cocks are just because of your heat, Rafe’s longer and a bit curved while JJ’s a good length yet clearly thicker than the other, making you gulp in fear and anticipation, your hormones taking over your mind as it turns into a mush.
They were both beside you in an instant, with Rafe landing a slap on your cheek that does not sting much yet brought your mind down back to your body again. “Why can’t you just follow, huh? This wouldn’t have happened if you just listened to us.” You continued to just stare at him, trying to cover your breasts using your arms before you felt JJ wrapping his hand around your neck. “He is asking a question, honey. Come on now.”
Your eyes started to water yet you felt your pussy clench on nothing, instead of answering, you have accidentally let out a soft mewl.
“Fuck, look at you.” JJ spoke, licking his lips as his hold on your neck slightly tightened. “Who would have known that you will love this?” Rafe grabbed the neck line of your night gown before ripping it, making you gasp. You felt vulnerable by the sudden action, trying to cover up your body which made them both annoyed.
“Who told you to cover yourself up, slut?” You felt Rafe smack your leg, before shoving it upwards to show them your weeping cunt. Your face heated up in shame with how wet you are, your own juices trailing down your legs. You didn’t get to answer back as JJ lets go of his hold on your neck before leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is sloppy and extra messy because of what your heat was doing to them. He tasted every corner of your mouth as you obediently open to let him, tongues dancing with each other, biting his bottom lip which made him groan into your mouth. The sound made your pussy clench on nothing, making Rafe laugh mockingly.
“Aww, look at this weeping cunt. I bet you had a hard time huh? It’s alright, I will make you feel good.” You didn’t have enough time to get down from the high of JJ’s kiss when you felt Rafe lick your folds slowly, coating his tongue in your essence. The action made you grip JJ’s hair while he press wet kisses on your neck, sucking and licking as he covers you with hickeys.
Your brain turned into a mush, the fight inside of you now long gone as you feel mind-numbing pleasure from the both of them. Rafe continued to plunge his tongue inside of you, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles, his mouth and chin covered in your slick as he continue to eat you out. Sliding a finger inside of you, you immediately moaned and clenched, making the kook king smirk mockingly. “And she wants to put up a fight? Hah.” JJ commented before latching on your nipples, teasing it between his teeth and feeling it harden on his tongue. You don’t know what’s happening anymore, other than the feel of their mouths on your body. Rafe slipped in another finger, and another when you mewled.
His three fingers pumped in an out of you, setting a punishing pace. You had long shut your eyes, brows scrunched in pleasure with your mouth agape. JJ tapped your cheek repeatedly, making you open your eyes. “Keep your eyes open and watch us fuck you.” You watched Rafe suck your clit, fingers squelching as it tries to go deeper everytime, and when he curved his fingers and felt that rough texture, your eyes rolled at the back of your head, snapping open that release that you’ve wanted for days.
Rafe felt your pussy flood with your cum, clenching hard on his fingers. Continuing still, JJ grinned when he watched your legs shake, making Rafe pull back. “Oh shit” he muttered, both of them seeing the liquid gushing out of your cunt. “God.. thats fucking hot.” Brushing his hair upwards, while Rafe wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, your chest heaving up and down.
You were tired but not yet satisfied as your mouth waters at the sight of their cocks, seemingly larger than earlier. You wanted to suck and taste it, feel it heavy on you tongue but it seems like they don’t want that today. Both men positioned your body for what they want to do, JJ sliding underneath you with Rafe positioning himself above you. Your eyes were slowly closing, before a slap echoed on the room. “Fucking wake up, you hear me?” With a clenched jaw, Rafe grabbed you by the jaw with force, making you nod your head. JJ cackled, pressing his bare chest on yours. “Where’s the fight that you had earlier? Gone already?” He continued to made fun of you, feeling him rub his tip to your puckered hole. “Knew it was this easy to get you like this. Why are you even playing hard to get?”
Being sandwiched between them two sent your brain into an overload. All you were thinking about was the relief and pleasure of having them and taking them both. The fight inside of you turned into craving the feeling of their lips on your skin, their pheromones clouding your mind as much as your cloud theirs. You felt your slick drip down, from your puffy pussy lips to your hole. You felt the soft tip of JJ’s cock poking your hole, lubricating it with your slick and with his pre-cum before pushing in slowly. The intrusion made your body tense up, craning your head back and resting it on his shoulder. JJ hissed with the tightness, holding in a breath as he push,push,push inside of you. Rafe noticed how you scrunched your eyebrows, making him rub circles on your clit to loosen you up.
The sudden action made you scratch JJ’s arm that was holding you in place, squirting as he is finally balls deep inside of you. JJ lets out a shaky breath while Rafe only chuckled, before pushing his huge cock inside of you without warning. You gasped, looking down to slightly to see his flushed body connecting with yours while feeling JJ behind you, hands now holding your legs open. Leaning closer, Rafe growled in your ear while JJ moaned on the other side. Both men tentatively gave you one hard thrust, making you clench on the both of them.
The action made both of them give you another hard thrust, hands digging on your waist and hips, trying to create a rhythm. Rafe’s thrust were continuous and forceful, immediately hitting your sweet spot which made you curl your toes while JJ’s were short yet deep, stuffing your entrance so full of his thick cock that all you can think about is how full you are and how mind-numbing the pleasure is.
JJ constantly sucks hickeys on the side of your neck while Rafe attacks your lips with a searing kiss, their hips never stopping as drools drips from the side of your lips. Both blondes cannot help but bask on the feeling of your wetness and the squelching sounds your holes are making while you moan so erotically for them to hear, your sweet scent making it more pleasurable for them. “I-I’m close.. oh god I’m so c-close..!” You tried to warn them, holding Rafe close as you drag your nails on his back making the taller male stutter out a low moan.
Your warning just made JJ’s urge to own you stronger, grabbing your hips in a bruising hold as he piston his hips, feeling his wet balls smacking your ass with every thrust, prompting Rafe to do the same. “Take it— fuck, take it you fucking whore..!” He whispered with Rafe wrapping his hand on your neck, squeezing slightly making you open your eyes. “Doesn’t this remind you of that night?” He asks, following JJ’s rhythm. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you get overwhelmed with pleasure, constantly moaning and releasing a series of ah,ah,ah as a bitch in heat. “You told us you are ours that night, stuffing you so full like this.” He smirked at you, watching how filthy you look like, taking both of their cocks and letting them have their way with you. JJ chuckled breathlessly when he hear what Rafe said “yeah— fuck— remember how she moaned that night while holding her legs open? Then acted like nothing happened, now look at you. Back to doing it again for us.”
You were too far gone. Their comments slipping down your brain as your body focused on the fullness and the harsh circles on your clit that you don’t even know who’s giving you with your eyes rolled at the back of your head. “C-coming..!” You didn’t even finished your warning as you cum, clenching on both of them tightly. Yoyur body convulsed, mouth slack and open which prompted Rafe to spit on it. Both men felt your hot slick wetting them both, chasing their own highs.
JJ looked at Rafe, licking his bottom lip before cocking an eyebrow. A silent challenge to the other alpha male before sinking his teeth on your shoulder blade. The sharp pain made you open your eyes full of unshed tears, breathing heavy as pain and pleasure mixed inside of you. JJ licked the wound, pressing with kisses before huskily moaning, releasing his cum deep inside of you, filling you up as he relishes on the high from the sex and from marking you as his. “Mine.” JJ whispered while looking at Rafe, clearly challenging the other with a smug smirk.
Rafe snarled, baring his teeth on the other blonde before thrusting deep inside of your abused cunt and biting the other side of your shoulder. His bite was rougher than the other, hot pain searing inside of you as you open your mouth in a silent scream before feeling him cum deep inside of you. Kissing the bitten area of your shoulders, they both stayed inside of you before pulling out at the same time. Your tired state was evident with how flushed your cheeks are and how your eyes were barely open.
Both of them stood up, JJ laying down your tired form properly on the bed while Rafe grabs a wet cloth to clean you up. While cleaning you properly, both men cannot help but watch you sleep while baring their marks, officially marking you as theirs. They want you for themselves but both of them won’t back down, settling on the terms that they share you, as long as its only the two of them that gets to taste and fuck you.
They held your body close, the haze of stuffing you full still buzzing on their system as they settle beside you. Looking at their bite marks, both of them grinned foolishly, finally claiming you as theirs.
“You fucking assholes!”
Both men immediately sits up in shock, still sleepy from the draining activities last night. When they both opened their eyes, they saw you standing in front of your mirror, staring at the bites that they left on each of your shoulder blades in horror.
You looked at both of them in disbelief, hiding the marks with your hands while you sob. JJ and Rafe just smiled at you, clearly proud of their work. “Get out— get out!” You screamed at their faces, ignoring the fact that your heat is still not finished yet. Feeling betrayed that they staked their claim. Now everyone will know who claimed you, their pheromones will always cling on your skin and your body reacting more actively when they’re closer because they had bonded you without your consent. You sobbed at the fact that instead of having someone mature to help you out on your heat cycles, you instead got two of the most possessive bastards in the world.
Rafe just leaned back while JJ rested his head on his hands. “Now, now” JJ started. “I think you need to calm down. We really need to teach our little omega how to speak to her Alphas properly, right, Rafe?” The other just chuckled, eyeing your naked body with lust. “Oh definitely. I cannot have a bratty little omega prancing around with such a dirty mouth. I guess, we both need to stuff her mouth with our cocks, put her into place huh?” You ignored them and screamed “oh fuck off! You fucking pieces of shit!” Your chest was heaving in anger.
Rafe grabbed the lamp besides him and threw it on the wall behind you while JJ lets out a warning growl.
You just stared at them in shock, covering your now cowering body as they stare at you intensely with clenched jaws. JJ stood up, walking towards you before dragging you forcefully towards the bed by your hair. Letting out a scream,he shoved you down the bed with your ass propped up for both of them to see, before landing a harsh spank on your ass. You cried out in pain, before feeling Rafe’s hand on your nape, pressing you down and choking you.
“You are ours. OURS.” He threatened through clenched teeth.
The sun went down. The day ended with you covered and full with their cum, using and abusing all your holes, covered in hickeys and bruises that will last for days. Clearly expecting you to learn your lesson, your mind blank as you take and take whatever they give you.
#rafe cameron#jj maybank#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron smut#dark!rafe cameron#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank smut#dark!jj maybank#obx#obx smut#mochiro writes 💖#alpha!rafe cameron#alpha!jj maybank#rafe cameron fanfic#jj maybank fanfic#mochiro’s halloween fiesta 🎃
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illicit affairs (part two) — d. malfoy (draco's pov)
synopsis : Draco watched as Y/n slowly walked out of his life and wonders why their relationship is considered illicit.
warning/s : angst, fluff if you squint hard enough, profanity, written in first person, pureblood! reader (this isn't really important & would only be implied)
author's note : like promised, here is part two of illicit affairs 🥳 but i feel like i didn't write it properly 🥲 hopefully, you guys get the message i'm trying to get through!
<- part one | part three ->
leave the perfume on the shelf
that you picked out just for him
sixth year
"why is it that you no longer wear your signature perfume? I used to love it" that was probably a dumb and unnecessary question to ask
but can you blame me? I just need the slightest reasons and I would gladly start a conversation with her. as crazy as it sounds, I'd most definitely take every opportunity to talk to her.
she was silent for a moment, luckily it was only us sitting by the fire, "there's absolutely no reason for me to wear it but i'm glad you loved it"
i hate this. i hate the awkward silence between me and her, i hate that she's distancing herself from me and i hate that i am pretty much aware of it, i hate not being able to tell her how much i adore her, i hate not being true to myself, i hate—
"i'll go to my dorms now, it was nice talking to you" she didn't wait for my response and continued to walk to her dormitory, i hate when she's formal, it's as if we weren't friends.
so you leave no trace behind
like you don't even exist
"good morning!" I say, rather awkwardly than I hoped for it to
"hello, Draco" she smiled and walked past me
I watched her retreating figure like I always do now that she tries to cut every interaction short.
I hate it.
I hate it when she acts as if nothing ever happened between us. I hate that she no longer wears her perfume. I hate that she's slowly starting to slip past my finger tips.
I fucking hate it.
because she was leaving my life, slowly. so slow that I could see her disappear bit by bit. like, she was packing her things to move else where.
from her presence, to her perfume. it's as if she never even existed with how carefully everything connecting to her disappeared from my life.
take the words for what they are
a dwindling, mercurial high
"you look gorgeous" I whispered, hoping that it was loud enough for y/n to hear, hoping that she knew that it was directed at her, not Astoria.
I felt guilty for dancing with my soon-to-be wife and wishing it was y/n I'm holding.
soon enough, when Harry and Y/n stopped dancing, I excused myself.
"I'll go out for a moment" not waiting for Astoria's reply, I started walking away. I walked behind Y/n, grazing my hand against her waist in the process, hoping that she gets the message.
and that's how we ended up in the restricted section of the library, where we spent the next hour hugging and exchanging kisses and i love you's while looking through the different books in the shelves.
i love you, looking back, I started to wonder whether or not she took my words seriously.
"impossible! he can't...actually mean it!"
but according to the conversation I overheard, she took it as a dwindling, mercurial high.
a drug that only worked
"we're okay, we'll figure this out together, but let's not think of that for now" my kisses were denied when she pushed my head away and sat up.
"we all know we can't do anything about it" she argued and pushed me off, "listen, baby, we shouldn't restrict ourselves from loving who we want and I definitely won't spend my life married to someone I don't love, so believe me, I'll do something about it"
"but you two are set for marriage—"
"but I love you, not her" she stayed silent and I smiled, "so, do you trust me?"
"yeah, of course, I do"
the first few hundred times
"do you not trust me?!"
"NO! I FUCKING DON'T!"
and that's the thing about illicit affairs
and clandestine meetings and stolen stares
illicit? our relationship is nowhere near illicit.
it's not wrong to love someone, what's wrong is to pretend to love someone.
if it were Astoria I'm in a relationship with, that's illicit. but y/n? why would our relationship be illicit? because I'm bound to marry someone I don't want to marry?
"you okay, mate?" only then did I realize that I have been gripping my knife so tightly as I watched as she laughed with Saint Potter.
"we know you've been...feeling bad since she ended things with you but—"
"I just don't understand! why now? why—"
"why not now, Draco? did you think she'd want to wait 'til your wedding before breaking it off?"
"there will be no wedding!"
"oh I wouldn't be so sure if I were you" Daphne says, "my mum wrote to me this morning and mentioned that they might start planning yours and Astoria's wedding, if I were you, I'd start getting into action"
I spent the rest of supper thinking and secretly staring at y/n, who seemed to be doing the same.
they show their truth one single time
"i love you"
but they lie, and they lie, and they lie
"do you love me, still?" I say, not too bothered by the students who I knew were eavesdropping in our conversation
"as a friend, yeah"
we both know she's lying. and I know she's aware of the fact that I know she's lying.
a million little times
© louvemione on tumblr | do not steal, copy, translate or repost
#not too proud of this 🥹#harry potter#harry potter x reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fic#draco malfoy angst#draco malfoy one shot#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy#draco#draco angst#draco one shot#draco fanfiction#draco x y/n#draco x reader#draco x you#draco x female reader#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy x reader
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.
despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎��𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.6k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. n/a

part three: the letters, the saloon and the second storm ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist
vi. the letters
september 2nd 2008 (age 9)
dear jungkook,
my mom said i should write you letters. i don’t really know what to say here. you better be visiting marshmallow and be nice to her while i’m gone. i miss her a lot. i guess i miss having you around since i don’t have anyone to play guitar hero with…
p.s. happy late birthday maybe i can visit and come to your party next year if my mom lets me
from y/n
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
january 19th 2009 (age 10)
dear y/n,
i learned how to skate for the first time. it’s too bad the ice will be gone when you’re back and we won’t get to skate together. i can’t believe we’ll be in middle school soon. are you scared? hoseok and namjoon say it’s not a big deal. also, i saw your grandpa yesterday and he showed me how to use a tapper on a maple tree. so cool!
p.s. you should ask your mom if you can visit earlier this year
from jungkook
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
april 23rd 2009 (age 10)
HEY JUNGKOOK,
look inside the box, i sent you a book with this letter. i told you in my last letter that i would send you one. it’s astronomy for dummies (because you’re a dummy). you better read it before i come back to grandpa’s, okay?? you have a month and a half loser.
from y/n
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
september 30th 2009 (age 10)
hi y/n,
jimin sprained his ankle during gym class. your grandpa told me to write that because it probably just made your day. i feel a little bit bad for him, the nurse at our school is really mean. also i know it’s a month away but i’m so excited for halloween. my dad got me this really cool goku costume. what are you gonna dress up as?
from jungkook
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
february 4th 2010 (age 11)
jungkook,
i’m so tired of my parents fighting all the time. all they do is yell. i can’t wait to be back in amber valley so i don’t have to hear them all the time. i wish i had your parents, they’re so nice. also i hate my class. it’s so hard to be friends with the girls that sit next to me, they always leave me out of things. don’t you miss elementary school?
from y/n
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
may 17th 2010 (age 11)
dear y/n,
guess what. my dad got me a skateboard!! it’s so cool. if you’re nice to me i’ll let you borrow it. we should see who can do the coolest trick. it’ll be me of course i’m better than you at everything LOL. you better hurry and come back!
from jungkook
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
november 25th 2010 (age 11)
hi jungkook,
i can’t believe i’ll only be living with my dad soon. do you think my mom doesn’t want me? honestly, i’d rather just live with grandpa all the time. then i could see marshmallow everyday all year! or maybe you can convince your mom to take me in. actually, i take that back, i could never live with you. you’re so messy.
p.s. i got my own skateboard!! it’s cold now but i’m gonna practice and bring it with me next summer
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
february 18th 2011 (age 12)
y/n,
i know you’re super sad and stuff. i’m sorry about your parents. we’re gonna have the best summer ever though and maybe you won’t think so much about it. look at the bucket list i made!
eat breakfast for dinner
watch the captain america movie
ride the big kids ride at the midsummer fair (i’m tall enough now so you better be too)
stay up all night
make ice cream
if you have any ideas, add on! hope you’re doing okay :(
from jungkook
vii. the saloon
when jungkook mentioned the saloon to you, you thought it was a joke poking at the countryside life.
“oh, it’s actually called a saloon. like, unironically. that’s what the text said,” you rambled into your phone, edged between your ear and shoulder, as you stood in your kitchen in front of your laptop.
on the screen, you were assembling an excel sheet of sorts to assist your navigation through the business side of the farm. thankfully, this was exactly the field you had long worked and studied in and knowing this before taking on your new role made the transition far easier. there was hardly any product to be profiting from, as you had just arrived, and you were preparing the document before the time came to deal with vendors and other local businesses.
“oh, honey, that place has actually been called ‘the saloon’ ever since i was a little girl,” your mom’s voice chimed in from the other end.
since the turn of your early twenties, your phone calls to your parents were far and few between and you could hear the surprise in her tone when she initially picked up. but, your grandpa’s letter seemed to be growing truer everyday, as your surroundings made drew you to reconnect with what you thought was to be lost.
eyebrows furrowed, you continued to scroll through your work. “mom, do you think he meant it as a date? i can’t do a date, i literally just got here!”
“calm down. it’s that amber valley hospitality. but,” your mom paused, “you did have crushes on each other growing up.”
“mom, no way - “
she merely laughed. “it was so obvious! you mailed a valentine’s day card to jungkook every year. one time, he punched little jimin because he called you ‘jungkook’s ugly girlfriend.’”
“and then he screamed that i wasn’t ugly. huh, i do remember that,” you began to think.
spending time reminiscing with your mom momentarily distracted you from the anxiety you felt, waiting for the evening to come. jungkook did end up texting you, asking if you were coming down to the saloon for the birthday surprise. you looked away and closed your eyes when you pressed ‘send’ on the confirmation that you would drop by.
the idea made you nervous only because it had been so long since you went out and met new people. there was no such thing as free time in your old life and you really only maintained surface-level friendships with your coworkers in your last year of the job. however, knowing amber valley and the tight-knit community, it was only a matter of time before you got acquainted with everyone, whether you liked it or not.
by the time it was six, you’d forced yourself to get changed and inspected your outfit several times before leaving. the last thing you wanted to do was stand out too much. so, you put on your favourite denim jeans and a plain long sleeve top, putting away your go-to strappy stilettos for the night.
making your way into town was quick and soon enough, you found the pub situated in between the flower shop and the hardware store. it definitely looked like it’d been around since your mom was a little girl, the exterior siding showing age with chips here and there.
“hey y/n.”
you jumped, having not paid attention to your surroundings. turning around, it was taehyung holding a box adorned in magenta polka dot wrapping. he wore a similar outfit to the one from the day before, except a different cowboy hat. you wondered if there was a store in town that specialized in selling just these hats.
“hi taehyung. is this for jin?” you offered a smile, gesturing to the box.
a pleased grin formed on taehyung’s face. “yup. i’m pretty sure i got him the best gift out of everyone, but don’t tell anyone.”
he walked ahead of you and opened the door, pausing. you realized he was opening it for you and you quickly thanked him, going right in. small town hospitality.
it was saturday evening, but to your surprise, there were hardly any patrons in the bar. taehyung then pointed to a sign by the door, which you missed completely. it read: ‘private event, invite only.’
“oh, wow, am i v.i.p?” you joked, following him to the back of the room, where a stack of presents were grouped on one table.
“of course! you’re jungkook’s friend, after all,” he exclaimed, setting his box down with the others. “you guys go way back, huh? how long has it been since you guys since saw each other?”
you counted in your head. “i think twelve or thirteen years. a while.”
“what, no facebook back in the day?” he teased.
“no, he was never nearly fond of that. after i stopped coming for the summers, we lost contact completely.” you couldn’t recall any attempts for continued communication afterwards, other than your grandpa offering updates here and there about him. “we used to write, but i don’t know what happened. . .”
for a while, you wondered why jungkook never wrote you again after you stopped coming to the valley. admittedly, looking back, it hurt your preteen self that he never tried. but, eventually, you moved on and left jungkook in your childhood.
taehyung nodded slowly. “so. . .you didn’t know about what happened?”
you already knew what he was talking about and squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. “no. i felt really bad about it.”
“it’s okay. since i moved to town, i’ve really admired jungkook. if there’s any sort of pain, he hides it really well for the sake of others,” he said, leaning on the wall.
that sounded like the jungkook you remembered. he was always the type to put others before himself, no matter how small the issue. then, you began thinking about jiwon.
“taehyung, can i ask you something?” you suddenly said. “jiwon. she’s only nine. and jungkook doesn’t have any other family. . .”
the smile at the corner of taehyung’s lips was sad. “yeah. jungkook is her primary guardian and has been since he was nineteen.”
the answer seemed to weigh a hundred pounds and you had to take a second to take it all in. there were so many questions that formed, floating around your head and you couldn't seem to find the words to articulate any of them. before you could even try, you jumped again at the sudden appearance of two new individuals, one of them being jungkook himself and forced you to put away your thoughts.
“we’re behind schedule, did yoongi put the cake in the fridge?” this new person was turned to taehyung, carrying a case of beer. “we need - oh, hi! y/n! i totally remember you, i heard you were back!”
you’d never seen someone with such energy, exhibiting positivity like a ray of sunshine. it seemed like he was genuinely delighted to see you. taking a closer look at his features, you recognized him to be jung hoseok - jungkook’s next door neighbour. he put down the case in his hands and immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
“hoseok, hi!” you winced, trying your best to hug him back, but it certainly made you burst into a giggle.
he was the first person to remember you on the spot, which took you aback. a few years older than you, you weren’t as close with him as you were with jungkook growing up, but he was always around. you remember him as the big brother who showed you and jungkook the cool ‘older kid’ shows and games that your parents would have never let you watch at that young age.
“how have you been? you look so grown up! you’re really staying here for good?” the questions were rapid-fire, one after another.
beside him, jungkook was smiling, but tapped hoseok to bring him back into the main conversation. “hyung. hyung! we’re behind schedule, remember?” he groaned, but grinned wider when you met his eyes. “nice to see you, though, bunny. really glad you came.”
“oh, right.” hoseok quickly let go and cleared his throat, beginning to point to each of you with authority. “you, taehyung. go help jimin with the slideshow. namjoon has the pinata.”
pinata? how old was this jin person, was he one of jiwon’s friends?
“you, jungkook. jin said he’s five minutes away, we need you to distract him for a bit longer.”
“can i help?” you piped in, feeling a bit out of place. “i mean, i’m here as a last minute guest, i’m happy to help in any way.”
hoseok clapped his hands together in glee. “thank you, y/n! go help jungkook distract jin, you being there will give him a reason to yap on. let’s go team!” he raised his fist in encouragement and in the blink of an eye, he already dashed off.
at this, jungkook seemed unfazed and frankly, so were you. you remember hoseok’s personality to be like this - extremely vigorous and could never sit in one place. on the other hand, taehyung looked perplexed as much as he appeared amused. he only shrugged, picking up the case of beer that hoseok clearly forgot.
“let’s go team, i guess. i’ll see you guys in a bit!” taehyung chuckled, walking off.
you were expecting to be asked to move around chairs or help bring out food. this wasn’t quite in your cards. you turned to jungkook in confusion, who chuckled at your expression.
“come follow me.”
he led the two of you back out the saloon, hands in his jean pockets. the early summer air was stunningly humid and coming outside was like hitting a muggy and sticky wall. but, there was one thing that couldn’t be replaced.
you couldn’t help but stare up at the sky, a fixed gaze. “you can really see the stars when you’re in the valley.”
the stars, dotted across the night, twinkled and smiled down at you. it was a view that others only romanticized and dreamt of in carefully crafted paintings and poems made to move the soul. and now, this dream was your new home.
jungkook mimicked the way you tilted your head up, lost with his own gaze. “i’ve lived here all my life and i never get tired of it.”
“i can’t believe i forgot about this. . .” you trailed off.
he pointed out to the sky. “that one is ursa major and you can see - “
“ - the big dipper,” the two of you said in unison, which led to a shared laughter.
astronomy was one of your biggest interests growing up, having stacks of books and a tapestry of the night sky in your childhood bedroom. your bedroom in the farmhouse also had a shelf full of astronomy books, which your grandpa still kept until his passing. having ignored the task of organizing and arranging your new bedroom, which was the same room you occupied over your summers in amber valley, you made a note to go through this shelf when you arrived home.
jungkook said, “you’re the one that taught me about that,” he turned back to you. “you actually used to randomly quiz me on constellations, it was really stressful.”
you could see your younger self sitting on your grandpa’s porch steps with jungkook, who lazied on the hammock across from you. you would compile actual multiple-choice questions and threw pebbles at him whenever he got an answer wrong. eventually, your grandpa scolded you for that, so you changed your weapon of choice to toy balls.
“i guess my lessons paid off, though,” you bantered.
following this, you heard a person shout jungkook’s name. you looked over and saw a man walking in your direction. he was tall and handsome and his smile was inviting. a little too handsome, he reminded you of models you’d seen in high fashion ads. his clothes contributed to the image, a patterned short sleeve button down and t-shirt that gave off neat and put-together. he wore jeans like what seemed to be 90 percent of the town, but you noticed the luxury brand belt.
“oh, seokjin!” to this, jungkook nudged you, as if signalling for you to be ready for something.
this was jin? the birthday boy with a pinata? he had to be around hoseok’s age.
“hey! hoseok told me to meet him here, have you see him?” seokjin began looking around. “he is working tonight, right?”
“uh, did he?” jungkook’s tone was not convincing and you couldn’t believe the hoseok made such a horrible liar be the distraction. “i think he is, want me to call him?”
“um, yeah. he said he was returning something he borrowed from me.” seokjin looked at him strangely. “why don’t i just go inside and check? why are you just waiting out here?”
“this is y/n!” jungkook suddenly blurted out, seemingly having no way around the conversation. his smile was painful and avoided making eye contact.
your eyes went wide and seokjin turned to you, having not realized there was another person in his presence. “oh, i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you there.”
“yeah, hi, that’s me. y/n.” this time, it was jungkook looking at you like you were the least convincing person in the world. you cleared your throat and offered a handshake to seokjin.
seokjin didn’t seem to notice your awkwardness and took your hand. “it’s really nice to meet you. jungkook actually told me a lot about you!” it was subtle, but you could hear jungkook groan.
you raised your eyebrows at jungkook. “oh, did he?”
“you guys grew up together, right? and you’re taking over the old farm?”
although you could tell right off the bat that seokjin wasn’t from amber valley, his deamanour was just as welcoming and friendly. he asked you a few questions about where you’re from and how settling in was.
“i’m sure you’ll be a natural. it sounds like you already have a lot of experience!” seokjin exclaimed and his positivity gave you genuine reassurance. “we’re all friends around here, so don’t be shy to reach out if you need anything.”
“thank you,” you replied.
jungkook tried to regain his composure. “seokjin runs the bakery down the street.”
“yeah! my wife and i used to buy eggs from your grandpa all the time, hopefully we can keep doing that,” seokjin winked at you.
then, the front door of the saloon cracked open just enough for hoseok to poke his head outside. there was no sign of activity from the inside, with the lights now off and all voices coming to a complete silence.
seokjin tilted his head slightly when looking at hoseok. “there you are. are you. . closed? the bar is closed on a saturday night?” he asked.
“yeah, uh, plumbing issues,” hoseok’s eyes darted over to you and jungkook. “y/n, jungkook! what brings you here around this time of day? you should all come in!”
despite the growing skepticsm etched on his face, seokjin glanced over to you two and shrugged. he followed his friend’s gesture to come inside.
you mumbled to jungkook, “you and your friends are all terrible liars.” to this, jungkook stifled a laugh and playfully jabbed his elbow into your arm.
hoseok opened the door wider and seokjin went in first, while you and jungkook trailed after. you were surprised at how well they made the interior appear deserted, with not a single soul in sight. you did noticed that they even stacked the chairs on the tables, as if the establishment was really closed.
“by the way, hoseok is the manager of the saloon,” jungkook leaned into your ear and whispered.
the floorboards creaked with every step, only adding onto the heavy silence in the atmosphere. seokjin looked around, eyebrows furrowed. he cleared his throat, hoping to cut the awkward tension.
seokjin started, “so, y/n, what happened with you and ju - “
“surprise!”
all of the lights flickered on and filled the room. upbeat music turned on suddenly, causing seokjin to jump and yelp. two dozen or so people popped out from random places - underneath the booths, from behind the walls, and from behind the bar. balloons and streamers began spilling out from out of nowhere.
“happy birthday seokjin!” everyone yelled in unison.
you awkwardly tried to join in once you caught onto what everyone was saying. despite that, the high energy ended up engulfing you and you couldn’t help but smile. some of the boys started throwing streamers at seokjin, while namjoon appeared from under the bar with a lit chocolate cake and began approaching the birthday boy in question.
“thanks, y/n!” hoseok nudged you, as everyone began singing to seokjin. “it’s exciting that you’re around again!”
as the song concluded and seokjin enthusastically blew out his candles, you cheered along with everyone else. over the cheering, jungkook found his way to you again. he raised his hand, offering a high-five, which you immediately accepted.
something about the atmosphere unlocked something inside you. within days, you were welcomed into the community and for the first time in a long time, saw people that could become your actual friends. maybe this was what your grandpa was talking about.
“yeah,” jungkook added, “it is exciting that you’re around again.”
“real connections. . .” you muttered to yourself, remembering the contents of your grandpa’s letter.
the yelling got louder, as the partygoers chanted for seokjin to make a speech. “huh, what did you say?” jungkook shouted over the chanting.
“nothing!”
you weren’t prepared for the next part of grandpa’s wish for you. it was a surprise to you that you were able to ease into the town and become comfortable connecting with the people around you. at the end of the day, though, you had a farm to run and you were about to face the worst of it.
viii. the second storm
your grandpa’s last wishes for you were to reconnect with people and nature. nature. you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into.
“oh my god! why does mother nature hate me?!”
the best thing about living in a big farmhouse by yourself was the fact that you could make as much noise as you wanted. you often found yourself yelling at the top of your lungs, shrieking like a bird when you came across anything frustrating. considering you were learning an entirely new job on your own, it happened quite often.
you screamed into the void after your first phone call with a vendor, who kept on asking you if you knew what you were doing. you swore you almost broke your vocal cords when you sunk into the mud the first time you checked out the fields after a rainy night. at least you walked away several metres from the coop before you screeched in agony after the chickens gave you a hard morning on time.
when a soft knock on your front door interrupted your emotional breakdown, your heart stopped.
“fuck!” you whispered to yourself.
who would be visiting you? what if it was someone important, like mayor kim? maybe they didn’t hear - no, they definitely heard.
you tentatively approached the door and took a deep breathe before swinging it open.
“i didn’t know you started tending to hyenas on the farm.”
it was jungkook with a lazy, shit-eating grin. it was early in the morning, about 8am, and he wore workout clothes. baggy grey sweatpants and a white nike tank-top, you felt like you were straining to keep your eyes on his face and not anywhere else.
“oh, shut it. good morning to you, too,” you shot back. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”
“sorry, i would’ve texted, but i was already passing by on my run,” jungkook said.
it’d been about a week since you last saw him, though he was nice enough to check in on you every once in a while to see if you were doing okay with the farm. you hardly left home, used to the same routine of working and going right to bed everyday from your old life and the habit was hard to break.
he continued, “anyway, i saw your windows hanging from outside and i just wanted to make sure - “
you opened the front door wider for him to see the state of your front entryway and his jaw dropped. there was water everywhere on the floor. the storm from the night before was aggressive and the age of the house couldn’t stand it. you didn’t anticipate for it to be this bad, having just shoved the windows closed before you went to bed.
“yeah, they’re wrecked,” you sighed, looking over to what was left of it, considering most of it was on the ground. “actually, that’s why i was screaming.”
“you know, i take what i said back. totally justified.”
“thanks,” you rolled your eyes and sighed. he made a gesture as if to come in and you obliged, carefully stepping aside and making sure you weren’t stepping in a puddle. “i’m surprised this hasn’t happened before.”
he let out a low whistle, as he walked inside and took in the sight of your floors. “honestly, me neither. you would think this would’ve happened already ages ago.”
you didn’t know what else to do but shrug. “i can handle it.” despite your words, you certainly could not handle it. there were still a million things you had to take care of around the farm and dealing with broken windows and water was an incredible burden that you didn’t know where to start.
“shit. look, i have to go to work in a bit, but let me help you out,” jungkook said.
you instantly shook your head. “jungkook, no. it’s fine, really, i got it.”
“you’ve never picked up a screwdriver in your life.”
“hey, you don’t know that!” you wanted to slap him upside the head like from when you were kids, but found the strength to refrain.
it was only jokes and jungkook’s smirk showed it, but his tone then became serious. “okay, then, at least let me help you fix your windows. dude, you live alone in this big ass house on this big ass farm. just say yes.”
at this point, you could tell he was exasperated with your stubborness and you laughed at it. you weren’t one to turn down someone offering to do manual labour for you, but you were hesitant to show any lack of indepdence. though, something told you to say yes and it wasn’t jungkook’s annoyance with your persistence.
“okay, fine. you’re real annoying, you know that?” you had to add in the last part, it was only natural.
he shook his head. “thank you - oh, how lucky i am for milady to accept my lousy, peasant self to fix your windows!” at that, you shoved him playfully and when he barely moved from your push, jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle.
“i know you’re perfectly capable of doing things yourself, by the way. you just shouldn’t have to all the time,” he gave you a pointed look.
you nodded slowly, looking down at your feet. “thank you, jungkook.”
though it was only 8 in the morning, you decided to take a later start in the day, since you usually woke up at the crack of dawn. you had your entire day ahead of you and what felt like a hundred things to do and the last thing you wanted to add was a trip to the hardware store.
“of course,” he carefully tiptoed around the water, moving back to the front door. “it’s what friends are for. i’ll come by tomorrow morning, how’s that sound?”
this is not what you meant when you decided to “reconnect with nature” at all. with your fluffy indoor slippers soaked in rainwater, you were certainly more than connected with it. you made a mental note to visit the beach and call it a day, hoping that would fulfill your grandpa’s wish for you to be one with mother earth and that the forces of nature would leave you alone after that.
𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822 @seokoutt @firelcrds @taiwan0618
#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#jungkook imagine#bts au#jungkook x reader#jungkook x oc#jungkook x you#jungkook scenarios#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#bts imagine#bts scenarios#bts series#jungkook au#*** / the farmhouse.
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can you please write hazel x cheerleader!reader where hazel has a massive crush on/obsession with reader and either doesn't speak to her at all out of fear or says the dumbest shit because she's so flustered but reader finds it cute?
Not so obvious.
Summary: Hazel has a big crush on reader but is too scared to even talk to her which makes reader begin to think she hates her
A/n : I’m sorry if this is bad but I haven’t written in like 5 years would love some tips in the comments or anything thank you just need to let my feelings out on my obsesión with Hazel- 😼
It was obvious Hazel didn’t like you. How could u not know with her always running off when you come even remotely close to her.
“Hey hazel” you practically yell at you spot her by her locker barely getting there and reaching for a book. But as quick as you see her, as quick as she disappears.
Another time you spot her having a conversation with pj and Josie but this time in class so thought there was no way she could go anywhere. Boy were you wrong.
“Hey guys” just as you were coming up you see hazel speed walk out the classroom door.
Your shoulders slump as you feel slightly off putted by the erupt exit.
———————————————
“Just talk to her” pj said with annoyance in her voice
“It’s not that simple rather just ignore it and act like it doesn’t exist” Hazel says shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head
“Dude it’s way better than you just leaving like she has some sort of virus or something
Hazel shakes her head and sees u walking towards them and quickly looks around for an exit route but thoughts are cut short by your body coming I to view
“Hey guys I was wondering what you guys were doing after school”
Hazel stops listening as she thinks to herself that this is finally her chance to talk to you. Just say hey how are you you look really pretty today. No she’ll think your a total loser today
Suddenly she blurts out as pj is explaining what the club is.
“I love woman “ all three stop and look at her. The tip of her ears turning a bright red eyes widen not believing she said that
“I-I think what she means if we all love and want to suppprt woman” pj said trying to save the conversation
“ so if ur into that stuff you should totally stop by and i don’t know if u want to , bring some of your friends with you like idk” she pretends to think “ maybe Isabel and Brittany for instance just throwing that out there”
Josie shakes her head and grabs pjs arm
“Uh yea I’ll see if they wanna come. I’ll see you all later “ you say walking off after they both said their byes except Hazel
Hazel comes out of her shock and shakes her head
“ what was that” pj said looking at Hazel
“I don’t know it just came out”
“Dude u need serious help if that’s how you flirt “
“ you don’t just blurt I love woman ur lucky I saved your ass”
————————————————————————
“ always be on time “
Pj turns around being cut off with the sound of the gym door opening and seeing you, Isabel and Brittany walk in
“You guys haven’t started right” you chirp out
“No your just in time we were about to start our lesson”
You all sit in a circle awaiting instructions on what is going to happen next.
“Ok we are gonna have two people in the middle fighting- training in self defense”
“First pair” pj looks around the circle smiling to herself and stops at you “y/n and uhh idk hazel”
Hazel freezes and looks at pj with wide eyes as you both stand up and go into the middle
You both begin to circle each other no one making a move to hit the other
“Cmon Hazel! HIT HER! “ hazel widens her eyes too scared to talk to you let alone touch you but goes for it and swings her hand with barely any force to hurt a fly, it slightly grazing your chin
It’s quickly over shadowed by you swinging your fist and it coming into contact with hazels nose
Hazel drops to the floor. Blood all over her nose as you rush down worried
“I’m so sorry Hazel here I’ll help you take care of it”
You help her up you wrapping her arm around your neck as you support her body weight under you as to not drop her.
————————————————————————
You grap a paper towel and run it under the faucet and bring to hazels nose as she sits on the counter of the girls bathroom
She slightly hisses but quickly stops as you lay your hand on her thigh
“I’m so sorry Hazel” you say “ you probably hate me more than what you already do I bet”
Hazes brows furrowed as she looked at you with confusion slapped on her face
“You think I hate you?”
“Well duh, you always leave when I come by or just flat out ignore me when I’m talking to you or to anyone around you. Just assumed the obvious”
Hazle just shook her head and grabbed the paper towel from your hand.
“Hate you? That’s far from it.” She takes a deep breathe this is the time to do it, it’s now or never “i just get so nervous and scared that I’m gonna say the dumbest thing around you. Then you’ll hate me and god how can I recovery from that” she goes on rambling but let’s out a big breathe and calms herself down.
“What I’m trying to say is, I like you more than like you “
You pause and turn a light shade of red not believing what your hearing
“If I could explain in words I would but I could not express how I jamble over my words because of how much I- “ she stops cut off by you grabbing the sides of her face and crashing your lips into hers.
She leans in eyes fluttered close as she lets out a sigh of relieve from the fact that she now knows that you actually like her back.
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WIP Whenever
@razildor @pseudospaceship @xxnashiraxx have tagged me over the past few days, and I've been so busy/tired that I haven't been able to sit down and actually work on anything, which is weird for me. I'm sad my output has dwindled and will for the next little bit due to work stuff, but c'est la vie - it's better to not have time to write than to have time to do it and be plagued with writer's block so I'll take what I can get.
It seems like springtime has brought out the horny in many of us in the Emmrook fandom, and I'm over here writing intensely emotional conversations about death and grief, but if you know me, that comes as no surprise.
Anyway, here's a little bit of what I'm working on for the next chapter of i heard people are dying to get in here. I've got more smut prompts I need to work on too (thanks for sending them in if you did - I will get to them... it's just gonna take some time.)
No tags: if you see this, please post your wip and tag me so I can snoop it <3
Wintersend Eve
The holiday season wasn't particularly relaxing when you worked at a funeral home, as it turned out. In fact, it was statistically the busiest time of the year: the frail and elderly were more likely to succumb to death's call when the conditions were cold and bleak. Inclement weather made for icy roads and parking lots, so there were more fatal car accidents and falls. The worst part of all was the notable uptick in suicides and overdoses around this time of year: the holidays really seemed to be a breaking point some people, and every time during the week leading up to Wintersend when a new call came in where the decedent was resting at the medical examiner, Rook felt sad.
Sad for the person who had left. Sad for their family who would forever have to navigate this time of year while being reminded of the tragedy associated with it.
Taking vacation time around Wintersend was basically unheard of at McDermott & Rafferty: in order to keep up with the higher than normal call volume, only a certain number of staff were permitted time off over the entire month, and those available dates were snatched up within hours of the calendar rolling over in the new year.
Rook was fortunate that due to the rotation of her schedule and sheer luck, she'd manage to swing an extra day off after Wintersend, which then rolled into her normal weekend off, so she ended up with four glorious days off in a row.
McDermott & Rafferty was open three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year, open for all other statutory holidays, with the only exception being the day of Wintersend. Even then, it operated on a skeleton crew of staff: one person in the call centre, two transfer drivers to be available to remove any decedents from where they passed away, and two funeral directors on call, each taking one half of the day, should anyone urgently wish to speak with a funeral director.
Emmrich had graciously offered to cover the first half of Wintersend until noon. After that, Leigh Ernesto would take over, and the regular on-call schedule would resume.
Rook wasn't crazy about the fact that their first Wintersend morning together would be soberly spent within arm's reach of Emmrich's cellphone, rather than wrapped around each other and indulging in mimosas and sweet rolls while thick fluffy snowflakes fell outside, but it was the nature of the profession, and she was grateful to be spending it with him at all. Besides, once he was no longer on call, he had the same days off as Rook.
“Joan asked me yesterday if you’d met my parents.” She mentioned from her place at the end of the couch where she was scrolling her phone, half reading through key studying points for her upcoming final exam, half-watching the TV where black and white re-runs of Alfred Hitchcock Presents flickered on the screen.
“Did she?” He mused, flipping the page of his book and returning to massaging her feet in his lap.
“Yeah - I told her you got in a huge fight with them and kicked my dad’s ass.”
Emmrich tutted, “I really wish you wouldn’t tell our colleagues such outlandish things, darling - wasn’t it awkward enough to have to sit down with Perry and sign that Consensual Relationship Agreement last week?”
By the time they both arrived at work on Monday after the party - separately - it became rapidly apparent that everyone at McDermott & Rafferty had learned of their relationship somehow over the course of the weekend.
‘Spotted leaving the party together and looking very cozy while doing so’ was the rumour that had circulated the ranks of all hundred-odd staff members in less time than it took for an Amazon delivery.
The source of the rumour was unclear - it had travelled so quickly through so many channels that getting to the root of it proved nearly impossible - not like it mattered: they had left the party together and they were very cozy. Denying it would only open the door to further embellishments and outright fabrications: the last thing Rook wanted to be doing was damage control on some bullshit nonsense about she and Emmrich fucking in a hearse or something.
“I mean if people want to keep asking me questions about my personal, off-the-clock life, they’re welcome to,” Rook snorted, “That doesn’t mean I have to tell them the truth - it’s none of their fucking business. I’ll keep making up increasingly insane shit until they get the point.”
She brushed the ball of her free foot over the front of Emmrich’s pants, pleased when his relaxed frame stiffened at the feeling of her toes on his flaccid cock: she knew exactly what she was doing with the flippant little movement.
“Besides—” she continued, “Joan knows you well enough to know that a bare-knuckle brawl with your girlfriend’s dad is the last thing you’d be pulled into: it was just my special, polite little way of telling her to fuck off.”
"I admit I do feel better not having to be quite so secretive about things." He drank from his cup of tea, and Rook reached for her glass of wine on the coffee table next to her: red, intense, and pricier than anything she could ever justify buying. "I just worry that some see it as..." he hesitated.
"Inappropriate?" Rook finished for him before taking sip and setting her glass back down. "The cradle-robbing creeper used his position of power and authority over the young doe-eyed nymph and seduced her while continuing to exercise that position of power in a way that puts her at a disadvantage?"
Emmrich's cheeks reddened, "I wouldn't put it quite so bluntly, but–"
"But what? You're hardly in any 'powerful' position: you're not my boss or my supervisor - as far as hierarchy flowcharts go at McDermott & Rafferty we're basically on the same level, the only difference is you get paid more and deal with more bullshit. The only real power imbalance that anyone could point out would be the fact that you teach one of my embalming classes–"
"Precisely, and–"
"– and I won't even have the prerequisite course completed so I can sign up for that one until later next year," Rook forged on. "We've already chatted about it: you'll go on leave for that semester, and someone else will fill in for you while I'm taking the course so there's no conflict of interest. You've already talked to the program director about it, and been forthcoming, so there's literally no reason for anyone to act fucking weird about it."
He got tangled up like this some times, she had learned: left to sit with his own thoughts for too long, he'd get lost in hypotheticals and 'what ifs' and outcomes that were well beyond his control: they had talked about this - at least three times - each time leading to the same outcome: it was going to be alright and no one was going to put him on a registry that precluded him from being within five-hundred yards of a school. He hadn't done anything wrong: Rook was a consenting adult who was interested in bouncing on his cock because she enjoyed it, not because he had somehow tricked her into it.
"Rook..." he began solemnly, closing the book and setting it down.
"Emmrich," she retorted.
Something was bothering him - she could tell by the slight knit of his brow, and the way his mouth turned down at the corners, his eyes introspective and searching for something unseen.
"What's actually on your mind?" She prodded. "We've been over this so many times, I'm beginning to think you're using it as a front for something else."
His eyes drifted to his lap: her feet across it and his book. His palm whispered over the cover as if trying to soothe the inanimate object made of wood-pulp and ink.
"It's a personal question for many of us, so I don't ask it lightly: what inspired you to pursue the funeral profession, darling?"
#v writes#emmrook#emmrich x rook#rook x emmrich#emmrich romance#emmrich smut#emmrich volkarin#emmrich#dragon age emmrich#rook ingellvar#modern au#funeral home au#i heard people are dying to get in here#wip wednesday#wip whenever
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Based on @goldenlionprince's day 2 of Jilypad week we have a little Sirius and Lily moment. Did I intent this to be a drabble and then wrote 957 words? Yes. Could I write more? Also yes.
“What year?” Lily asked, her legs curled up under the blanket she’d crocheted Sirius during their seventh year. Well, she’d made it for herself but then Sirius would steal it so often she’d decided that it must be the universe telling her that she had made it for him. The way it was ever present, the way it had started to wear and fray where the squares connected, told a similar tale as the cracked spines and annotated, dog-eared pages of his favourite books.
Sirius held up the deep brown, round-bellied bottle as he squinted at the wax seal. “Haven’t the foggiest,” he replied after a moment of quiet deliberation. “But since when has Uncle Alphard’s collection ever disappointed us?”
“Uhm that white from 1939?” Lily suggested after a moment of silent deliberation, her fingers absently plucking at a loose strand, tugging a little too hard and watching a few stitches coming undone. “I should make you a new one,” she added in an off-hand tone, informing that she would rather than put it up for discussion.
Sirius just looked at her, his eyebrows low, his lips slightly pursed before letting out a single, unamused chuckle. “No, you shan’t,” he told her firmly, rolling his eyes—rather dramatically, according to her—before producing a bottle opener. “Also, that white was just fine after we turned it into risotto, so I am considering it a win.”
She couldn’t help it, she knew that she shouldn’t but really who as going to blame her? Anyone with eyes would be doing what she was doing now, shamelessly watching his lean-muscled hand curl around the handle of the corkscrew. Watched the ripple of muscle as he pulled, and then bask in the satisfied smile curl onto his lips.
Lily knew better than to keep staring and dropped her eyes to the unravelling stitches. “It’s starting to fall apart though,” she remarked and tied the ravelling string off in the hopes of keeping it from getting worse.
“Well, maybe if you don’t spill wine all over it- Again! - Then maybe it’ll keep a little longer. I’m rather attached to it.” His words coaxed her eyes back up to his to protest his outrageous accusation.
“That was once!” she protested, sniffing indignantly. Sirius only needed to level her a look before Lily deflated and turned her eyes to the ceiling. “Fine, Tw-three times.”
Sirius flashed her a shit-eating grin while pouring them both a glass from the bottle. “I happen to be very attached to that blanket, I’m not ready to replace it quite yet,” he said and sat down next to her, reaching out the glass.
Lily pinched the stem of the glass and swirled it around. She knew better than to sip instantly, not fancying comments about letting the wine aerate or breathe or whatever other posh thing he did with the wine. Something which she did not bother with when she was drinking her favourite under-five quid bottles of supermarket slosh.
But she is used to it now.
They’d been doing this for the past few months, whenever James was sent on a mission without either of them. Something that happened far too often for their liking. But they couldn’t argue when the reasoning was sound.
It got them through the long nights, the liminal space in which James was both alive and dead and missing.
“So, anything juicy going on?” Sirius asked, his long legs tangling with hers under the blanket, a record starting to play in the background with a flick of his wrist and a flourish of wandless magic.
Lily held the glass up to the light, inspecting it while she thought, and keeping far enough away that she was not tempted to take her first sip before Sirius. “Mmh, let’s see. Molly is pregnant again,” she said casually, her eyes set on her partner, wanting to see his reaction.
She gleefully watched as his eye grew wide and his jaw slackened. “Molly? Weasley?”
“Mhm,” she hummed, deciding that now was the time for her to take a drink. The warm, woodsy flavour washed over her tongue while she watched the wheels in Sirius’s head turning.
He took a large gulp of wine, an indecent amount of wine that he’d have given her stink eye for, but she wasn’t going to. She didn’t care about that sort of thing, especially if it was a part of his process. “Are you sure? It’s that?”
“Number six, yes,” she filled in his question and took another sip, this one larger. “I know! I was thinking that too.”
Sirius tilted his head to the side like a curious dog. “Think what too? I’d love to know what words you were imagining,” he taunted and raised his glass at her.
Lily deliberately waited for Sirius to take another long drink before answering, she knew it was mean but it would be funny too. “Just that Arthur must be the best shag ever,” she said casually, even shrugging like she did not just say something mildly ridiculous and highly inappropriate.
At her word, Sirius nearly choked on his wine, letting out a loud, barking laugh interspersed by coughs. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand once the laughter subsided and let one last guffaw escape his lips. “That wasn’t my first thought. Close, but not the first. You bring up a valid point though.”
“What were you thinking then?”
Sirius smirked, his eyes travelling to her glass, daring her to drink before he spoke, and she knew he would outlast her patience. So, instead of trying, she simply took the drink, pretty sure that she’d be snorting it out the second he spoke.
“That we should make him a classmate.”
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~Oblivious~
LokixReader Fluff-Shot
Word Count: 2,415
Warnings: Absolutely large amounts of fluff up ahead! That's it! Summary: Loki and you were spending the evening of your anniversary in a calm and gentle way. During your time together, Loki brings up the first time you two realize the other had feelings for them and enjoys recounting the story to you as you loved.
This is written for @sarahscribbles Birthday Celebration! It's only my fourth finished one-shot for Loki ever, so I hope I actually meet some of your standards! I used the prompt "Are you really so oblivious?" which I put in bold in the text!
*****
"Do you remember when you found out that I had feelings for you?" Loki said, his eyes crinkled up in delight. His cheeks were pink in the soft candlelight and he held a glass full of wine, leaning against the marble countertop of the washroom.
Y/N, seated in the bathtub a few feet away, giggled and set her own glass down. "By the norns, Loki, why must you always bring this up?" she asked, but her tone told him she wanted to relive the memory anyways. Loki smirked and rolled his eyes.
"Honestly, I still don't know how you couldn't tell I was madly in love with you," he said. "I was a righteous and noble Prince, yet I was nothing more than a muttering mess when you were around." He pushed himself off the counter and closed the distance between the two of them, sitting down on the edge of the tub and tucking a few wet strands of Y/N's hair behind her ear. She smiled, looking into his blue eyes with pure adoration.
"Yet you never told me anything until you were jealous of your brother," she quipped, wriggling her eyebrows at him. He chuckled, a delightful sound that Y/N would never grow tired of hearing. She smiled as he recounted the two days leading up to his jealousy, his smile never leaving his lips.
It had been the middle of winter, and Y/N was good friends with both of the Odinsons since meeting them the year prior. The three of them did everything together - so much so that Y/N had to designate times to spend alone with each of them, or they would bicker and send her into a flurry of chastising. These two particular days had been exceptionally hard on Loki, as his mother was off with Odin, writing up a peace treaty with the neighboring realm. Loki hadn't spent much time away from Frigga, and the toll it was taking on him hadn't been especially kind.
Y/N was patient with him, though. She had slept in his room so he wouldn't be alone. It spoke novels to Loki, as he was afraid to even ask something of her to begin with, and she had offered to do so before any words left his mouth. But Loki had woken to an empty room the next morning, which left him rather crestfallen.
Y/N was off spending time out in the city with Thor and Lady Sif, commissioning a weapon smith for new daggers. They decided to make a day out of it - buying goods from stalls filled with burly men that intrigued them and snacking on treats from plump women that knew how to bake. There was lots of laughter as Thor recounted the many battles he experienced with Sif, always ending in her punching him on the arm playfully. As time went on, the sun began to set, and the three of them made their way back to the palace.
When they arrived, they found Loki in the dining hall, sitting alone with a book and a few plates of barely touched food. He hadn't looked up when they entered rather noisily, still laughing with each other over some story of Thor mistakenly fighting a rock. As they sat down, Loki stood up. Y/N attempted to make conversation with him, but he didn't acknowledge her once - leaving the room and his dinner behind.
Y/N paid no mind to his lack of openness, and instead drank heavily with Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three as they joined them for the meal. She fell asleep that night in her own room, and woke up long after the sun had risen the next day. When she had come down to the dining hall again for breakfast, Loki was nowhere to be seen, and she hadn't noticed again because Thor was already being his usual, loud self. He greeted Y/N with eagerness, asking if she was still on for their spar session in a few. She agreed, and the two of them headed out to the training grounds after she shoveled some eggs into her mouth quickly.
It was in the silence of the courtyard that Y/N finally realized how absent Loki had been, so she asked Thor if he knew anything.
"Is there ever a time where there's not something wrong with my brother?" he retorted, grabbing the wooden hammer off of one of the weapons racks. Y/N sighed as she took hold of the wooden daggers.
"I know Loki usually gets like this when Frigga leaves, but this time it feels... Different." She took her fighting stance, beckoning Thor to make the first move. He only laughed, throwing his head back and placing a hand to his stomach.
"The words 'Loki' and 'different' always seem to find themselves in the same sentence," he said, smiling down at Y/N with amusement. "But I don't see this as anything out of the ordinary." He patted her on the shoulder and took his fighting stance. "Come on, Lady Y/N, I don't want you distracted while I kick your ass."
The two of them sparred for hours, keeping warm against the cold winter air by keeping their bodies moving. But soon the chill was too much and snow started falling, so Y/N sought refuge inside. She wandered to the library for her upcoming "date" with Loki as she settled on the idea of waiting in front of the fire in there for him to show up.
To her surprise, she found Loki already splayed out on his back in front of the fireplace reading as usual, and his eyes darted to meet hers as she approached him. She knew her footsteps were silent, but he still was aware of her presence. He quickly sat up and drew his legs underneath him, leaning back against the bottom of the love seat that sat opposite of the fireplace.
Y/N continued making her way to him and plopped down next to him, leaning over to see what he was reading. "What's this? I thought we were reading something else, today," she said cheerily. He only shrugged his shoulders in response, so she continued. "Thor and I had a wonderful time outside today. But the sky had other plans for us, and we had to come inside early. Maybe we can go for a stroll in the snow later. I know how much you love this type of weather." She smiled at him, but he paid her no mind as he continued to stare at the pages in his hand. Her brows furrowed and she reached over to place a hand on his thigh, but he tensed so quickly that her hand paused mid air, before dropping back down to her lap. "Are you okay, Lo?" she asked, hoping the nickname only she was allowed to use would make him ease up a bit.
It only made him tense more, and he rolled his eyes before dropping the book down to his lap rather aggressively. "No, Y/N, as a matter of fact, I'm not okay," he said. Hearing his voice made her relax a bit. He's not giving her the silent treatment anymore, at least. But his tone was off, and she assumed it to be because of Frigga's absence.
"Hey, you know she will return tomorrow, right?" she said softly, hoping to rid him of his worries. Loki scoffed and went back to his book. Y/N's face reflected confusion as she turned so her whole body was facing him. "Is that not what troubles you?"
With a huff he set his book down again, turning to face her now. "Are you really so oblivious?" he asked. When Y/N's face showed no recognition, he placed a hand to his temple and closed his eyes.
"Loki, I'm so confused," she said, now placing her hand on top of his. He pulled back and stared into her eyes with a look of longing.
"You spend the entire night in my room, and what, you think because I miss my mother?" he spit, hurt clouding his tone. "Then you abandon me before the sun even rises, spend the entire day with my brother, and still you have no idea what could possibly be souring my mood?"
Y/N's heart flutters as she looks at him, but her mind screams warnings at her. She had always been so careful around him - not because he was fragile, but because, selfishly, she didn't want to ruin the moments between them that she found herself looking forward to every day. She had suspected that there might be more to her longing to lie next to him as he read the newest stories of the books he collected, but she told herself time and time again that if he had felt the same way about her, he would have said something. For him to be confirming her suspicions now, after all this time... Surely she must be misunderstanding.
Searching his eyes for some hint that he was messing with her, Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again as the words refused to form coherent sentences in her head. Her cheeks flushed from embarrassment at her insensibility. The only thing she could squeak out was a measly little "I'm sorry," before she grabbed his hands and held them. She turned them over in her own, admiring each and every crease of his palms, every ridge of his knuckles, and the curve of his perfectly manicured fingernails. He simply let her, feeling his frustration dissipate with her warm touch complimenting his cool temperature.
After sitting like that for a long while, Loki finally looked up and met her gaze with hesitation. He now searched her eyes for any trace of uneasiness before he found himself leaning in slowly. Y/N bit the inside of her cheek as she glanced down at his lips, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to press her own to them with feverish desperation. But Loki paused when they were inches apart, and his voice lowered to an unsteady whisper, her name spilling out of his mouth so delicately, she wished she could reach out and capture the sound forever.
"By the norns, I have dreamt of telling you how I feel for many moons, but every time I wanted to, I couldn't find the words..." he said, lifting his hand to brush a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear. She closed her eyes gently, leaning into his touch like she needed it. Her heart drummed symphonies in her chest, and he didn't move his hand away immediately. Surely he could feel how quickly her blood flowed through her body with the flittering pulse in her neck, but if he had, he paid it no mind as he spoke the words she had been longing to hear. "I have loved you from the moment we met, darling."
Y/N chanced opening her eyes and was met with the most adoration filled expression she'd ever seen. She felt her heart now skip a few beats as her body took over, placing her hands to his shoulders and pulling him forward until their lips met. She kissed him gently, fireworks exploding behind her eyelids as his hands snaked down to her waist. He held her firmly, like she would change her mind if he wasn't careful enough. When they finally pulled away, Y/N placed her forehead to his and smiled sheepishly.
"I love you, too, Loki," she said, lacing her fingers into his black strands and stroking his scalp with soft precision. She had done the same thing many times before, but something else sparked a different noise to escape his kiss-bruised lips, and his eyes fluttered shut.
"Stars, sweetling, I've waited eons to hear those words from your lips," he said breathily, his smile giddy as he pulled back to properly look at her. "And I've never imagined they would sound this good."
***
Y/N giggled as she downed the last sip of wine in her glass. Loki leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Those words still make my knees weak and my head spin when you say them," he said, pouring warm water on her shoulders. He had begun bathing her as he recounted the delightful story, and she was loving every second of it. She smiled up at him, setting her empty glass down and relishing in everything about this moment.
"I love you, I love you, I love you," she repeated, watching as his lips quirked up into that smirk of his she loved so much. Loki chuckled and rubbed circles into her wet back, leaning over and pulling the drain plug.
"If you want to ruin the magic of those words darling, I promise you'll need to do a lot more than echo them at me. I could listen to you say that all day." He stood and grabbed a few towels, wrapping them around Y/N as she stood and stepped out of the tub. He leaned down and pecked her nose, which only made her giggle incessantly as he lead her out of the washroom. He dried her off with the towels and took them back over to the basket next to the washroom door. While he did this, she slipped into the bed, sitting up with her back against the headboard.
Loki undressed, joined her in bed, and laid his head on her lap. Y/N reached to scratch his scalp out of habit, and he let out the same loving groan he did every time since that day. "I still love when you do that," he said, letting his eyes close as he relished in the feeling.
"And I still love you," Y/N responded, leaning her head back and sighing peacefully. Loki smirked once again, nuzzling his head further into her hands.
"I love you, too."
#loki#loki oneshot#loki x reader#loki fanfction#loki fandom#loki laufeyson x reader#Soft!Loki x Reader#soft!loki#loki fluff#sarah scribbles birthday celebration
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12345 Tag Game
Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words (feel free to interpret however you would like; if not on AO3, can be on Tumblr or FFNET, etc)!
Thanks for the tag @that-disabled-princess! What an interesting game!
Also, I won't be including unfinished fics, or podfics. Oh, and if a fic shows up twice, I'll skip it and go to the next one. :)
Most Hits: Falling Back To You (SnowBaz) [54K]
When a magician comes into their magic, they gain the ability to communicate with their soulmate. From the time they turn eleven, any message they write on their skin ends up on the skin of their soulmate. There are rules, as magic always has: only they can write to their soulmate and they can’t reveal their names to each other until they turn 18. Losing a soulmate connection is practically unheard of. When Simon Snow suddenly loses his, he knows just who to blame: it must be the doing of his ever-scheming roommate. For Baz Pitch, losing his soulmate is really just an inevitable side-effect of being a vampire. It confirms, once and for all, that he is a monster. After all, how can one still have a soulmate if they no longer have a soul?
Second Most Kudos: So Close, We've Always Been (SnowBaz) [12K]
I should never have agreed to this job. I mean, I’ve had it for almost two years now, but it doesn’t get any easier. Being the personal bodyguard for one of the most arrogant, stuck up bastards in this world would make anyone quit within a matter of weeks. Honestly, the rest of the staff are surprised I lasted longer than a month, let alone two whole years. There’s a lot about me that they have yet to know, and even more about Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch that they have yet to find out. Namely, that you can get him to shut up by sticking your tongue in his mouth Simon Snow has worked in security for most of his life, having dealt with some of the most difficult clients. None has come as close to being as frustrating as Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. The man is stuck-up, arrogant, and a complete arsehole. He's rude, careless, and Simon really should have quit months ago. Until there's something more that keeps him by Baz's side... Namely him being the best shag Simon's ever had. He may insist that the nights with Baz mean nothing, but not even he can prevent the feelings that start to flicker beneath the sheets.
Third Most Comments: The Best Game You Can Name (SnowBaz) [17K]
Baz Pitch and Simon Snow Salisbury go form hockey rivals, to best friends, to wanting something more. As the years pass and and reveal the scary realities of life, they must learn to continue doing what they do best: Have each other's backs, drink beer, and love the hell out of hockey.
Fourth Most Bookmarks: I Loved You Once Upon a Dream (Dreamling) [41K]
It's 1916 and Hob Gadling, while serving with the Canadian Infantry, ends up on the wrong end of a rather vicious curse. One that will cause flowers to grow inside his lungs unless he obtains a confession of love from his most beloved. Too bad the last time he saw that person was in 1889, when his Stranger walked out into the rain. And that had been because Hob had dared to call them friends. Hob's certain he'll be alright though. He's resilient, smart, and stupidly stubborn. He'll figure out a way out of this mess. (Even if he has to use a bit of magic to do so). OR Hob takes a very long nap after becoming too invested in Horticulture. OR Hanahaki (Maleficent's Version).
Fifth Most Words: Swim For Brighter Days (Immortal Throuple) [30K]
“You do not write with the others?” she finally asked him after three days of Hob reading the books in the house. “Sadly, I am not much of a writer. I print books and I read them. The goddess herself neglected to bless me with her words,” he’d responded, smiling up at her. She was wearing a beautiful, white gown, flowing gracefully down to the floor. Elegant white gloves covered her hands and arms, while her hair was intricately braided in what Hob assumed was inspired by the women of Ancient Greece. “Have you never tried before?” “A few times, when I was younger and far more arrogant. Wrote a poem for a—” Hob stopped short, not knowing how exactly to refer to his stranger. Was he a friend? A casual acquaintance? “A special person,” she finished for him. “A special person,” Hob said.
Least Word Count: Everything's Better With a Little Bit of HOLO! (SnowBaz) (922 words)
I steal the bottle from Simon’s grasp and give it a look. I inspect it closely, turning it around in my fingers. It does not look like anything particularly spectacular. It looks like a typical silvery nail polish. I am pretty sure Mordelia has a similar one. The polish’s brand name is somewhat more reflective, and I do think the slight rainbows coming off it are pretty. I do not understand the name, however. “What on Earth is a Holo Taco? Aren’t tacos supposed to be food? What do they have to do with nail polish?”
Tagging: @kydrogendragon @seiya-starsniper @tj-dragonblade @acedragontype @pumpkinkingsalem @yellobb @messofthejess @iamamythologicalcreature @blackberrysummerblog @rimeswithpurple @ileadacharmedlife @teejaystumbles @aquilathefighter @samsalami66 @gabessquishytum
Yes, it's a lot, but this is a really fun one! And I wanna see it spread across fandoms! :D
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Silly snippet of something im writing😝😝
--- 575 words, regulus black narrates idiots
“Youre my best friend, you know that. Right rosie? “
“Of course, best friends for life. “
Jesus christ, how stupid can these two idiots be?
Regulus glared at them harshly. and barty who sat facing him, unlike evan who was stadning in the middle of the fucking room staring at barty, noticed and gave him a furrowed eyebrows look as if saying 'what?? ' but with his weird face.
Regulus rolled his eyes,
If they're gonna be absolute buffoons then im leaving, fuck this shit.
Regulus got up and left the dorm. What else was he to do?? Just sit there and hold back the “you're both in love with eachother!! “ that he was screaming over and over in his head?
No, he'd rather drown in a puddle of piranhas than listen to them being stupid.
'Best friends for life' my arse.
He'd knock some sense into them if he could. Just throw a punch right in the sides of their miserable faces. Too bad he's too spindly to do that, promise, he would if he could! But his arms are deflated from doing nothing else than catch a snitch during quidditch.
Which hes awsome at by the way
He went to look for his other two friends in hope of less stupidity.
If only there was a map of this place somewhere. It would be much more convenient
He looked around the common room, no pandora or dorcas.
Continue on.
He walked into the halls, looked around, no dorcas or Pandora.
Continue on.
He walked into the library, looked around, and a white head of hair was situated at near the back of the room. Together with three others. He walked over, but when he recognized who she was with he started dramatically frowning.
Remus and james?? Really Pandora? This woman has to get better taste in study friends.
Dorcas was also there, sat opposite of Pandora. He nodded at dorcas as she looked up and smiled at him, “oh, regulus! How nice of you to join us. “ she said.
Pandora who sat oppisite her spoke up, “oh yes, i was just talking with Remus and potter about the forest nymphs that are nibbling on my shoes; leaving holes! “ god he loved pandora and her weird mind, “i think they're hungry, the school should take notice to it. What if they start eating students? “, regulus smiled and sat down next to her.
With dora and lupin to the side of him, and cas and potter opposite. He took out his book,
“well then i hope they go for the teachers first, sacrifice the old. “ dorcas said
“i hope they take slughorn first, can't stand that guy. “ potter added
well, potter, Just because you're shit at potions doesn't mean you should blame it on slughorn. You should blame it on your small brain and stupid glasses
“Well i don't see how slughorn deserves this” regulus heard himself say, potter looked at him
Geez, since when did this guy actually become good looking? Damn, smash.
WOAH! Who said that
“Well he gives me horrible grades every year, even tho he knows that i try reslly hard in his classes!“ he blinks out of his head and looks at potter again, “i think hes just being cruel to me, i didnt deserve shit characters”
He may be hot, but he is a hell of an annoying guy..
Still smash tho
#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#marauders fanfiction#marauders era#the marauders#marauder era#marauders#rosekiller#jegulus#pandora lovegood#dorcas meadows
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Goodbye


Pairing: Books!Jon Snow x Books!Daenerys Targaryen
Synopsis: The battle against the terrifying supernatural forces of the North is coming, but Jon and Daenerys are not ready to say goodbye.
Warnings: SMUT in the beginning (receiving oral), incest? (Jon and Daenerys don't know they are related), mentions of death, goodbye.
Word count: 597
AN: Since GRRM said he doesn't know if he'll ever finish the books, I'll give Jon and Daenerys what they deserve: happiness.
Daenerys's screams of pleasure grew louder as she neared her climax, lowering her head to see Jon with his mouth between her legs was a wonderful sight. The dragon queen grabs the young man's black hair as she reaches her limit.
“Did you like it?" He asked, getting out from under the blanket. "Yes, very much... Where did you learn that?" Jon lay down next to his lover. "I'd rather not talk.” The two hug each other in the bed.
That last year had been complete chaos. Cersei and Tommen dead, Rhaegar's supposed son marrying Arianne Martell and taking King's Landing claiming he's the new king, the others getting closer to the wall, Daenerys managing to take Dragonstone after the death of Stannis Baratheon and his family. But everything in Jon's arms seemed to not exist, they being her greatest comfort.
"The Manderlys are sending four thousand men to the Wall to help in the fight." Jon starts playing with Daenerys's silver hair. “Who are they? They seem to be quite loyal to your family.” Jon hugs Daenerys closer. "The Starks welcomed them to the North after they were driven from the Reach by House Gardener, they feel they owe us eternal loyalty for that.”
“I wish I could know more about the noble houses of the Seven Kingdoms... Viserys just said that any house that didn't support my father in the rebellion deserved to have its lords hanged.” Jon gives a light laugh. "Viserys must have told you so many lies about us that he could write a book about them if he were alive.” Daenerys's smile fades. "But he isn't... Now I'm the one who has to bear the burden of honoring our house name... I'm literally naked in bed with the son of Robert's greatest supporter.”
“Don't say such things." Jon sits on the bed. "I also feel thoughtful knowing that I am the lover of the daughter of my grandfather and uncle's murderer, but we are not our fathers, we decide our own destiny.” He kisses Dany's hand, a sweet and soft kiss, as cold as his lips. "I need to go back to the North tomorrow, Sam sent me a letter saying that the others are getting closer to the wall every day.”
Dany had a sad expression on her face. "I don't know if I can do it without you, my dear, I fear that Aegon and the Martells will send fleets at any moment to attack me here on the island.” Jon lays back down on the bed. "You have three dragons, don't you? They grow bigger every day, you could burn any ship if you wanted to.” Dany begins to caress Jon's cheek. "Everyone wants me to be a queen, but deep down, I'm still the little girl who dreamed of the house with the red door in Braavos.”
“Just like I was the little boy who just wanted to be a Stark, and look where we are now... I'm sure you can do it.”
The next morning, Jon was on the beach at Dragonstone preparing to return North, but not before Daenerys showed up.
“Do you really need to go?" She asked, she was beautiful as always. "You know I need to... I can't leave my sisters alone in Winterfell." Daenerys approaches. "Come back to me, please." Jon smiles before kissing the young queen on the lips. "Hold on a little longer, my love, and I promise I'll come back to you." Jon said, before getting on the boat that would take him to the ship.
#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#snowstorm#jonerys#jon snow#daenerys targaryen#fantasy books#book jon snow#book daenerys#george rr martin#romance#romantic#fanfic#fanfiction#fanfics#oneshot#oneshots
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