#i got the message loud and clear from my own mother if my sister is just gonna keep telling me that everytime we talk and not also try to
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cold â myg (M)
Not proof read.Â
âą Pairing: Yoongi x Female!Reader â Hogwarts AU
âą Word count: 16.6k (Idk how this happened okay)
âą Genre: Angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, arranged marriage, slight slowburn, smutÂ
âČ Description: Min Yoongi - The 7th year Slytherin student notorious for his cold and indifferent personality, and not to mention his anti-social tendencies. What was it about him that made you so curious? - Warnings: swearing, some finger action
Hogwarts au masterlist
AN: Whenever I write Hogwarts AUâs I like to include characters that already exist in that world instead of coming up with a lot of OCâs. So youâll be meeting with a few familiar faces ;)
âY/Nâ in my story is more of her own character rather than an insert - Iâve tried to keep detailed description down to a minimum, but in some cases it was unavoidable. So sorry for those who find that annoying.
âMiss Y/N...â
âMiss Y/N.â
âMiss Y/N!â
Your eyes flew open at the raised voice next to your ear, heart thumping for some unknown reason as the familiar sight of the dark ceiling came back into focus. Sighing, you relaxed back into your mattress before lazily addressing the voice.
âWhat is it, Tudey?â You muttered tiredly while the small house elf beside your bed played with her hands nervously.
âMistress told Tudey to wake Miss up. The Hogwarts train leaves in two hours and Miss cannot afford to be late,â Her squeaky, uncertain voice relayed the message urgently, ears twitching nervously at the sight of irritation on your features.Â
Although feeling slightly bad for scaring Tudey for just doing her job, it wasn't enough for you to bother clearing away your irritation. The house elf had known you since birth, and being a naturally nervous creature there wasnât much you could do.
Resisting another sigh, you just nodded, waving her off as the sound of a loud crack was heard before silence took over again.
You remained in your position for a few moments in your overly large bed, eyes closed and craving more sleep, a black and burgundy comforter tightly wrapped around your body.Â
The bedroom was cold, as always. The kind of cold that wasnât exactly terrible, but enough to make you somehow uncomfortable at certain moments - such as waking up in the middle of the night. The air never failed to draw goosebumps on your skin whenever you woke.Â
But you had gotten so used to the feeling that it barely bothered you anymore.
Stretching one last time, you got out of bed and went towards your wardrobe placed in the corner of the room. You didnât waste a lot of time finding clothes and simply chose the first outfit that you managed to put together, consisting of a black long-sleeved turtleneck with a tight button skirt. You finished the look with some laced-up boots and a classy white blazer to make it a bit more sophisticated.Â
Sitting down in front of your vanity table you saw your still half asleep face looking back at you. With a shudder, you grabbed your wand and gave it a wave - the glamor spell doing a quick change to meet the day.
Downstairs, the sound of pots clanging echoed from the large kitchen as you passed it along with the forms of several house elves walking around getting food ready for your family.
Inside the spacious dining room, your parents were already sitting on each end of the table. Both nursing their own cups of tea while reading the Daily Prophet.Â
The same thick, tense silence for no reason greeted you.
Your younger brother, who was starting his first year, sat on the left of your mother and your older sister by two years on the right. Choosing the chair to your fatherâs left, you sat down silently before acknowledging them.
âMorning mother, father,â You nodded at each of them and felt your motherâs scrutinizing look directed at you - which you tried to ignore. It had become a habit at this point.Â
âSeeing how you decided to arrive late today, I expect you are ready to pass Hogwarts this year with only the highest marks,â your fatherâs voice spoke up next to you as you sent him a thin-lipped smile.
âOf course, father.â
He looked at you for a few more seconds before moving on to address your older sister next to you, silently eating her breakfast with her back ram straight. The only one in the room who wasnât hesitant about openly showing their emotions was your brother. And not even your uptight, pureblood parents could blame him for it. It was his first year at Hogwarts after all, any eleven-year-olds would have been excited at the thought.
Inwardly sighing, you couldnât help but think how you werenât lucky enough to be born into a normal, magical family - not even as a muggleborn at that.Â
Your luck was as rotten as the trails of crimes belonging to the majority of the sacred Twenty-Eight families still existing to this day.Â
Your mother was sitting silently in her seat, too occupied with the news to ask you any questions. Daphne Greengrass had aged well ever since her Hogwarts days, aging slowly and elegantly, not that different compared to your aunt Astoria. They had the same head of dark brown hair and eyes, traits that you had inherited. But unlike her paleness, yours was much more tan, a clear mix of both your parents.
Your father, Blaise Zabini, was an infamous name for all the wizards and witches who lived during the Second Wizarding War, although he had done his best to remain under the radar since then.Â
 His affiliation with the Malfoys and several rumors about having been a past death eater were still whispered in the streets whenever any of you walked past. You never had the courage to ask either him or your mother about that. They were dark times, and you were only lucky to be born when the Dark Lord wasnât trying to take over the world.Â
When both of your parents had first married, it wasnât because of love. More like convenience. It was no well-kept secret that your grandmother from your fatherâs side was a wealthy woman with her past six deceased husbands. The Greengrass family was one of the prestigious pureblood families still living - so it just made sense to unite the two bloodlines. But your surname would still remain as Greengrass with the influence behind the name soaring above your fatherâs.Â
Even as the years passed, your parents were both adamant about not changing their views when it came to blood status. Their pride and arrogance worth more than anything. Which caused you and your two siblings to be raised in a traditional pureblood Slytherin household.Â
Draco Malfoy himself had even changed for the better after his house arrest for being involved with the Dark Lord.
However, the only one who actually agreed with their views was your older sister. She lived to please them. Their praises make her feel better about her achievements.
Blood status didnât matter to you. Why would you care if they were muggleborn or pure? Youâd rather rely on your judgment of character to do the work. You had little patience for cowards. Neither were you the biggest admirer of the timid and silent, nor the rowdy and arrogant.Â
Some would say you werenât the most liked pupil around Hogwarts. Both you and your sister had been sorted into Slytherin on the first day, making nearly everyone, except for your brother, a snake.
After you had finished eating enough breakfast to call yourself full, your father stood up from his seat while looking at his wristwatch.
âTime to go or else youâll miss the train.â
Everyone stood nearly as one and made their way towards the large double front doors in dark mahogany. Your parents both put on their luxurious robes when your father waved his wand and muttered a spell as two trunks came floating down the stairs. He shrunk them and put them in his pocket before opening the door for everyone to step out of besides your sister.Â
She had an early shift at the ministry for her work and wasn't able to come. Not that it bothered you. You never had a good relationship with each other and she proved that by sneering at you, her judgemental eyes raking down your âmuggleâ looking clothes.
âTry not to disgrace our family name this year, Y/N,â she said as if trying to embarrass you in front of your parents.Â
You werenât the one who had been caught snogging in a broom cupboard during your last year.Â
You simply rolled your eyes at her. âIâd say the same thing to you.â
Your father offered you his arm, which you accepted while your mother held tightly to your brotherâs hand. Taking a deep breath, you felt the familiar nauseous feeling of being squeezed through a tiny tube when your feet landed back on solid ground. To your annoyance, you stumbled, but your father held tightly to your arm to hinder you from falling completely to the ground.Â
It was actions like these that made you feel confused towards the man who was your dad. He played the part well in front of others, taking you and your siblings to the trains each year as well as picking you up during the holidays. Yet his words and expressions were always laced with the monotone coldness you had grown up with.Â
Straightening your clothes, you resisted the sad sigh before turning to the familiar, heartwarming sight before you.Â
The red magnificent train sent a feeling of safety through you as allowed a small smile. This would be your last year taking it. Your father had already taken out the trunks and turned them back to their original size before turning to you.
âRemember what I told you. We expect nothing less than Outstanding on all your subjects this year,â he reminded sternly as if it was the only thing he could discuss when talking to you.Â
Never your wellbeing - just your grades and performance in class.
With that, all the feelings of confusion evaporated quickly from your mind.Â
âYes father, I remember,â you forced yourself to hold the smile at him. âWouldnât want to disappoint you.âÂ
His eyes narrowed at your last sentence but remained silent for your familyâs sake. Blaise Zabini was never one for public displays, affection or otherwise.Â
âAnd dress more appropriately next time, Y/N,â Your mother huffed as she glared at where your legs were showing. You wisely chose to hold your tongue at that, knowing nothing good would come out of you smart-mouthing your own mother as well.Â
Thankfully it was at that moment the Malfoy family decided to make an appearance, led by Draco himself. He greeted both of your parents and ruffled your little brotherâs hair while giving your shoulder a gentle pat. You smiled back at him and his wife, Astoria, giving both of them hugs before discreetly moving toward where their son was standing.Â
Scorpius was the same age as you, also starting his seventh year. Not to mention the fact that you were cousins. As you got closer, the gleaming sign of prefect in his hand caught your attention.
âIs that a Prefect sign, Malfoy?â You couldnât help but ask in amusement as you stood next to him, elbow nudging his.Â
His head snapped to the side at your voice, having obviously been lost in thought and giving you an annoyed look. âJealous, Greengrass?â
âHah!â You chuckled. âAs if. Iâd rather not run around the halls after foolish first years.â
âYour brother is a first-year,â Scorpius pointed out.
âExactly,â You smirked in reply as he shook his head. âWhy do you have that anyway?â
âThe previous Prefect bailed out apparently, so they needed a new one,â Shrugging, you noticed his eyes glancing around discreetly again.Â
âIs that even possible?âÂ
âDonât ask me, at least I am one,â Scorpius leered in jest as you scoffed, retaliating smoothly.
âHowâs your little girlfriend?â
His silver-blue eyes widened as he slapped a hand over your mouth quickly and you winced at the sudden force. He looked at both of your parents who were far too busy talking about other things.
âNot so loud!â He hissed, bending down to glare.
You pried his hand off you in irritation, before raising your eyebrows at him. âThey donât know?â
âI havenât told them yet,â Scorpius muttered.
âHow can you not tell them youâre dating a Potter?â you asked in disbelief but made sure to keep your voice down. âThe whole bloody school knows.â
He gave you a look. âMy father would disown me.â How daft of him to even think that, you wanted to cackle. Draco Malfoy disowning his only child? As fucking if.Â
âYou actually think that?â
âWouldnât yours?â
âWell of course he would. Heâs my father. But uncle Draco is different, you know that. And your mum just happens to be the nicer sister out of our mothers.â
Scorpius gnawed at his lower lip, guilt obvious at your words. He was well aware of your relationship with his aunt and uncle, and no part of him had planned to make it sound like he wasn't aware of it.
âIâll tell them. At Christmas.â
Your nose twitched at his cowardice but didnât bother trying to persuade him anymore. It was his business, after all, cousins or not. You werenât a meddler.Â
âAlright you three, itâs about time for you to get on the train,â Draco then spoke up with a soft tug of his lips as he turned to face your little group - your little brother having been silent and only gawking at the train throughout all the exchanged conversations.
âYep, see you later Dad, Mum,â Scorpius was quick to place a kiss on Astoriaâs cheek and give his father a one-armed hug before vanishing through the crowd and towards the train, trunk in hand.
You could only gape at how quickly he had left you alone at the mercy of your whole family.
Not that Draco and Astoria were the problem. You loved them honestly. But it was a different story when it came to interacting with them in public besides your own parents and what was appropriate in their opinion.
You were never allowed to show a big variety of emotions growing up. Always having to stand tall and unbothered, not let anyone see your weaknesses.
âAre you ready for your last year, sweetheart?â Astoria walked up to you, dainty hands cupping the sides of your face and looking you over with sparkling, nearly black eyes that showed none of the same dead, emptiness her sister did.
And you felt a pinch of sadness inside of you never having been called that from your own mum.
âAs ready as Iâll ever be,â You managed to breathe out, a hint of genuine nerves shining through your hard facade.Â
Your aunt and uncle were one of the few you allowed yourself to relax around. And they knew it as well.
âIâm sure youâll do great,â Draco assured you gently before turning back to face your father, voice hardening only the slightest, almost in warning. Not that it helped. âWonât she?â
In contrast to the Malfoys' bright voices, your father's was low and indifferent. âYes, of course. We expect only the best.â
âOh come on Blaise,â Draco clapped the back of his best friend, features losing the good-natured look and replaced with a slightly tense smile. âHogwarts isnât all about studying.â
If you could, you would have hugged the life out of your uncle for trying his best to make this moment into something more comforting for you. As futile as it was.
âWell you better go Y/N, or else youâll miss the train,â your mother then spoke up, nothing near the loving tone your aunt had used. "Make sure your brother finds his way around."
âIâll take my leave then.â Taking a hold of your brotherâs smaller hand you lead him towards the train, trunks in hand. Him waving at your family as you got on and the door closed behind you.
You turned around to peer down at him expectantly. âYouâll find your way around right?â
âYes,â he huffed at you. âIâm not a kid.â
Your lips tugged up, but you kept them at bay. âOf course youâre not.â You ruffled his hair before making your way down the tight crowded hallways of the train.
It seemed like most compartments had already been filled with people, and you tsked in annoyance. Nearing the end of the train one compartment caught your attention with only a single person in it. You couldnât see who it was, but for now, you could care less.Â
Sliding open the door, you leaned against it.
âDo you mind?â
The boy had a head of black hair and looked up as you quickly recognized him.
âNot at all,â Yoongi replied, before turning back to the notebook in his hands.
Not offering any words, you only shook your head in bemusement at his usual behavior.
After making sure your trunk was safely placed above your seat, you sat down closest to the window which also happened to be across from Yoongi. You didnât bother to say anything to acknowledge him as you crossed your legs and looked out at the scenery passing by.
The only sound in the compartment besides you two breathing was the sound of his pen scribbling on the notebook on his lap in concentration. You couldnât help but glance over in curiosity a few times - not that you managed to see what he was writing from your seat. What you didnât understand was why he wasnât seated with his usual group of friends around school. They were quite well known around Hogwarts for their apparently attractive looks and powerful family backgrounds.
The perfect young bachelors.
You werenât the only one coming from a prestigious Slytherin family after all.Â
From what you had heard, Yoongiâs family were all pureblood as well, all having gone to Slytherin as he did now. They were one of the most influential Wizarding families in East Asia, being related to the Parks - who were on top of the chain. His parents hadnât necessarily been death eaters, but it was quite clear which side they stood on during both of the wars yet still managed to leave unscathed. They had moved from Britain and back to South Korea after the fall of Voldemort but then returned when Yoongi had been born.Â
Or so you had heard from the sources of gossip.Â
Despite being in the same house, you had barely interacted with the guy. It was quickly known during your first year that he was quite the loner. Refusing to open up and befriend anyone except for that close group of his. The only one you knew personally from them was Jimin Park - his cousin. Another Slytherin in the year below you, his personality being strangely kind and sweet for a snake that you could never wrap your head around.
Not to say you were a social butterfly.Â
People stayed away from Yoongi because they knew he wasnât interested. They stayed away from you because they were afraid.Â
Some would think that smiling was an unfamiliar concept to you. It was always blank, or when it wasnât, it was a glare of judgment. The only ones exempted from it were Scorpius or your other friend, Albus Potter. The two boys having been attached by the hip since first year, before adopting a pity looking eleven-year-old you into their circle.Â
Youâd say your bark was often worse than your bite unless people really gave you a reason to have a taste.Â
You wouldnât want to disappoint them after all.Â
Taking another good look at the boy - or man -Â sitting across from you. You noted that he had impressively changed quite a bit over the summer.Â
He was no longer as thin and lanky as before. His face seemed to have sculpted a bit more, making it look more defined. His hair which was shockingly white-blonde before was back to black and covered his forehead in a deliberate looking mess. Wearing what looked like slacks and a dress shirt, the first three buttons unbuttoned, showcasing the pale skin underneath. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The glint of metal told about the belt he wore around his hips. He wore a pair of luxurious leather dress shoes, not a single scrape on them, and shining to perfection.Â
Not that you even expected something remotely cheaper looking from a pureblood.
âIf all youâre going to do is stare you might as well talk,â His surprisingly deep voice, contrary to his slighter figure suddenly spoke, raising his head to lift a brow at you.
You simply smirked, not the slightest bothered at being caught. âI didnât take you for someone to talk.â
âIâm not,â he agreed. âBut I usually donât share compartments either.â
âWhat happened to your friends?â You questioned, leaning back against the cushioned bench. âTrouble in paradise?â
You saw his lips tug up at your jest before smoothing out again. âMore like too much paradise. Everyone needs privacy once in a while.â
You acknowledged his answer with a nod and turned to look back out the window.
âWhereâs Malfoy? Expected to see him attached on your hip.â
âProbably busy snogging his girlfriend,â You replied casually.
âAh,â Yoongi realized. âThe Potter girl, isn't it? Or was it Weasley? I always mix up that family.â
âPotter,â You confirmed in amusement. âThe youngest if Iâm not wrong - sweet Hufflepuff girl, but quite the firecracker.â
âWho would have known; A Potter and Malfoy ending up together,â a snigger was on his lips as he spoke the words.
You returned it. âA snake and a badger. Letâs hope itâll last.âÂ
âBadgers are the ones known to consume snakes, you know. Perhaps Malfoy is the one who should watch his back.â
Thinking back on the first meeting between you and the youngest Potter girl, you couldnât help but find his analogy ironically fitting. A firecracker might even be too gentle of a description when it came to the redhead, but you could see yourself getting along with her in the time to come.
âPerhaps youâre right.â
âHm,â He simply hummed in reply before his eyes flickered back to the notebook on his lap, your eyes following him the entire time. You should be ashamed for staring as you did, honestly. He scribbled something down before speaking up again.
âSomething on your mind, Greengrass?â
âJust intrigued.â
Yoongi arched his brow in a silent question.
âFor being labeled as the loner you are, youâre awfully talkative.â
âJust because I prefer my own company doesnât mean that Iâm anti-social,â He countered calmly.
You couldnât help but agree with his answer. âTouchĂ©.â
You settled back into your seat and leaned your head back with a small inaudible sigh. You never were a fan of the long trip it took to get to Hogwarts. Your body despised being stuck in one place for too long. It always got too uncomfortable and sleep wasnât even something you considered.Â
There was a slight chill in the compartments that brushed against your exposed legs as you unconsciously tried to tighten the blazer around you to keep the goosebumps at bay. Maybe it wasnât that clever to wear a skirt on the long ride back to school.Â
The feeling of some heavy fabric being suddenly placed over your lap made your eyes snap open in surprise. Yoongi was sitting back in his seat and you looked down to see a black leather jacket covering your previously cold legs.
You opened your mouth to say something, but seeing the way he didnât even spare you a glance and returned to writing in his book, you decided to remain silent. Adjusting the jacket a bit, you closed your eyes again.Â
But what you didnât notice in your relaxed state was the way Yoongi would glance up at you from time to time.Â
+Â
It was nearly completely dark outside the next time you opened your eyes. The compartment was empty beside yourself when the door slid open and you met the familiar green eyes of your best friend.
âIâve been looking for you,â Albus Potter stated as he leaned against the doorway with crossed arms. His black hair was disheveled on top of his head as always. This time you allowed yourself to smile genuinely with no fear of judgment.
âSorry,â You muttered and shook your head. âI lost track of time.â
He took another glance at you before questioning. âDid you sleep?â
âI guess so,â You shrugged in reply, though you were put off at the revelation. You had simply closed your eyes to rest them like always but managed to lull yourself to sleep.Â
âWell, you better get changed,â Albus clicked his tongue and glanced down at the golden watch on his wrist that he received for his 17th birthday just a month previously. âWeâre nearly there and youâre probably the last one still lounging around.â
âAlright, alright,â You waved him off sounding annoyed, but a part of you had missed his punctual nagging and welcomed the familiarity of it.
Albus stepped inside the compartment as you stood up, just to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into a hug, that you wholeheartedly accepted. A near sigh of relief coming from you.
You had missed the comfort of your best friend being stuck inside the cold manor of your family for half of the summer.Â
âI missed you,â Albus must have known how bad youâve had it, or Scorpius had filled him in, that nosy fool.Â
âI missed you too.â
With a peck against your cheek, he stepped back outside and shut the door with the blinds falling down to conceal you from prying eyes.Â
That was when you noticed the jacket laying by your feet. Picking it up you simply stared at it for a few seconds before shaking your head.
You managed to change quickly by summoning your uniform and replacing them in the trunk. Straightening out the plain gray skirt and tucking your white blouse in the waistband. Finishing with the stockings and putting on your shoes, you felt the train lurching to a stop and saw the station outside the windows.Â
Tucking your wand in your pocket and draping the leather jacket over your shoulders, you stepped outside the compartment to see Scorpius had joined Albus in waiting for you.
âSo sleeping beauty has finally joined us,â Your cousin smirked at you.
âOh shut up, I wasnât the one running off to snog my girlfriend and leaving my cousin for the sharks,â Was your retort, seeing the faint blush creeping up his cheeks.
âShut it both of you,â Albus groaned. âThatâs my sister youâre talking about.â
With a girlish giggle, you only let yourself make around your closest friends, you looped your arms through both of theirs before starting to pull them towards the exit. The three of you managed to push through the excited first years and towards the carriages.
The younger students automatically moved out of the way seeing three upper years waltzing up. You had seen a glimpse of your younger brother, but he quickly vanished within the crowd after being led towards the boats.
When the carriages finally came to a stop, Albus helped you step down before making your way inside the familiar stone structure.
A visible smile of comfort was drawn on all three as you looked around the castle.
âCanât believe itâs our last year,â Scorpius spoke on the way toward the Great Hall.
âItâs surreal,â Albus agreed. âIâm gonna miss Hogwarts.â
Me too, you couldnât help but think back but decided to keep your thoughts to yourself.Â
The only positive thing about leaving the magical school was the fact that you could finally move out for yourself. There was no need to live in the suffocating manor of your parents anymore now that you were seventeen and nearly graduated.
The Great Hall was in an excited buzz for the start of the term. People from all houses were racing across the room to greet friends after the long break. The three of you made your way over to the table covered in mostly green and silver before sitting down at the complete end, closest to the doors. It was where the graduating students usually sat, with the first years closest to the front.Â
You couldnât help but try to look around in curiosity in search of one certain snake in your year, but it was hard to find someone in the masses of the crowd with such a neutral hair color like black.
âIs that a new jacket?â Albus questioned you as he noticed the leather draped over your shoulder.
âUh no, borrowed it from a...friend,â you hesitated at the words and he noticed it quickly.
âReally?â
âNo, not really.âÂ
âWho gave it to you?â He continued to probe.
âYou know Yoongii?â You turned your head to look at him seated beside you.
âItâs his jacket?â
âYeah,â you confirmed. âI was cold and he leant it to me.â
âI never took him for someone who cared,â Scorpius added in the conversation. He sat on the other side of the table, facing the two of you.Â
âNeither did I, but I was apparently wrong.â
âWonder why he gave up the Prefect position,â Albus mused as you frowned.Â
âWait - he was the previous Prefect?â You asked in surprise. âSince when?â
Both of your best friends gave you exaggerated looks.Â
âWhat do you mean since when, since he was chosen in fifth year, what else,â your cousin snorted.Â
Out of nowhere, a pair of hands clamped down on your shoulder so suddenly that you couldnât help but jump and let out a curse, knocking your knee against the underside of the table - your heart racing frantically inside your chest.
Laughter broke out from your friends as you whipped around to glare at the culprit that scared you.Â
âBloody hell Parkinson, get a life will you!â You snapped, fond irritation coating your words at the guy guffawing behind you.
Liam Parkinson, the only son of the newly divorced Pansy Parkinson, was laughing. He had the same light brown hair as his mother with her dark eyes. With about a head taller than yourself, the guy waltzed around Hogwarts boasting his lean and muscular build that came from being a beater towards any girls who would fall for his tricks.Â
âCome on now, love. No need to be so uptight,â With a smirk, he slid into the bench next to you.
âHow was summer, mate?â Scorpius asked him through his own snickering, propping an elbow up on the table, chin against his hand lazily.Â
âDreadful,â Liam replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. âMumâs been moping every single day. Donât even know why. Itâs not like my father was dad of the year either.â
âSorry to hear,â Albus grimaced at those words, having grown well-known of the drama that apparently followed pureblood Slytherins everywhere they went.Â
âYeah, I wish my parents would get a divorce,â Your blunt words were no surprise for anyone. âCanât handle having the two of them in the same room.â
âShe mostly spent summer with us anyways,â Your cousin added.
âThank Merlin for the Malfoys.â
Before they could continue, the grand doors to the Great Hall opened up, hushing all conversations in the room. A long line of first years started to stumble inside, looking around in amazement. You caught your brotherâs eye as you sent him a quick wink in encouragement.
But after seven years of the same thing, the sorting went by dreadfully slow for your taste as you tried to hide your chuckles from the foolish things your friends were whispering about. When you heard your brotherâs name being called, you perked up to see him nervously step up to the stool before the hat was placed on his head. There was only a 10-second wait when his house was called out.
âRavenclaw!â
You didnât hold back your applause as you cheered for him like the table clad in blue and bronze.
âHey, who would have thought? First Greengrass not be sorted into Slytherin,â Liam commented as he threw an arm casually around your shoulder.
âHeâs not the first one,â You rolled your eyes with a smile. âJust the only one currently alive.â
âYou think your parents will be okay with it?â Albus asked you.
You nodded. âItâs better than Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. I think they expected it.â
The sorting flew by after that along with the speech of Headmistress McGonagall who wished everyone back to Hogwarts to do their best, along with addressing the new Head boy and Girl. Who happened to be Albus and a girl from Hufflepuff you had never heard of before.Â
It was when dinner began that people rose up from their assigned house tables and sat with their friends instead. It was such a usual occurrence now that no one even reacted. The Great Hall went from going color-coordinated to a sea of green, blue, red, and yellow all mixed together.Â
You were just glancing over your shoulder when you caught the familiar face of Yoongi sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table with his usual group. That reminded you of the leather jacket now draped across your lap.Â
âIâll be right back,â you told your friends, standing up and making your way over.
The seven boys werenât one of the silent groups, that was for sure. And you noticed how they seemed to differ in years as well, not only houses. But they quickly saw you coming in their direction as they looked on in curiosity.
You ignored all of them as you took hold of the jacket and addressed the owner. âYou forgot this.â
Yoongi simply stared up at you for a second before accepting the clothing you held out. âIt seemed like you needed it more than me.â
âWhat a gentleman." You allowed yourself the smallest hint of a half smirk. âBut you might not be so lucky to have it returned next time.â
Yoongi raised an eyebrow at you. âNext time?â
âDonât be a stranger, Min,â was all you said before turning around and sitting back down with your friends, who all looked at you strangely.
They had never seen you go out of your way to get to know someone. Even if that someone was in the same year and house.Â
âWhat was that all about?â Liam questioned you.
You took a sip of your pumpkin juice. âI think I just made a new friend.â
+
The semester was kicking your arse only two months in. Flooding you with homework and preparations for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s, your professors turned merciless to make sure everyone was prepared.Â
With prideful parents like yours, they only expected the best. You had two acceptable choices in their book. It was either becoming a Ministry official or the Department of Mysteries.Â
You never were fond of the second choice, and the thought of becoming an Unspeakable didnât sit well with you. Not after everything you had read about what happened there during the war. Becoming a ministry official seemed the logical choice, your attention being on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where Harry Potter himself was the head and had changed tremendously in the years since his appointment, having become one of the most praised departments in the British Magical community.Â
However, with Hermione Granger as the current Minister of Magic, there wasnât much of the Ministry to be talked badly about with how much effort the past war heroes have done to make sure everything was going in a positive direction.Â
Too bad they couldnât change your family too.
Putting down the quill in your hand, you glared at the stack of books by your side and several pieces of parchments being filled to the brim. Your body ached from sitting for too long, and the air in the library was starting to feel suffocating to you.
âThat doesnât look pleasant,â a voice suddenly commented at the sight of the table you sat on.
You werenât even surprised anymore to hear that voice near you.
Yoongi and you had developed a strange sort of friendship ever since the compartments.
It wasnât one where the two of you spent time together to hang out. But rather silent companionship, where words were spoken freely without fear of insults or hurt feelings. You were both too damn stubborn for that.Â
You never sought out for each otherâs company. Simply conversing whenever you cross paths. And it happened more often than you would have imagined.
âNever said it was,â You mumbled without turning around and stretching your stiff fingers.
âHow long have you been sitting here?â Yoongi asked over your shoulder.
You could sense the way he was scanning your writing and what you were working on.
Taking a look at the watch on your wrist you shrugged. âSince 12.â
âOn a Sunday of all things?â there was amusement with a hint of disbelief in his voice.
Glancing up at him you arched an eyebrow. âSo Mr. Antisocial has never studied on a Sunday before?â
âBelieve it or not, I do have a life you know,â Was his reply while walking around the table and taking a seat on the chair opposite of you.
âI find that hard to believe,â you leaned forward with a leer as he narrowed his eyes at you good-naturedly.
âHow unfortunate for me,â he drawled.
You snorted unattractively, before leaning back in your chair with a stretch of your arms. âWhat brings you to the library on a weekend then?â
âIâm bored,â Yoongi replied. âAnd Namjoon was getting too intellectual for my taste.â
âNamjoon?â You pondered over the name. âThe Ravenclaw prefect in our year?â
âThe very same.â
âWell if I donât remember wrong, he is one of the top three students.â
âDoesnât change the fact that his rants are annoying. Jeongguk isnât like that,â he pointed out.
âAh yes, I remember him,â You chuckled. âCute kid. Though he ran off when he bumped into me once.â
âMust have been your charming smile,â Yoongi taunted with a sarcastic smirk as you sneered at him in irritation. âPerhaps stop glaring at everyone you see?â
âI did not glare at him, thank you very much,â You sniffed in a dismissive manner. âI hardly did anything before he squeaked out an apology and ran as if a Hungarian Horntail was after him.â
âAnd there you have Jeongguk for you,â he smiled in amusement at the picture of the fifth-year Ravenclaw running off at the sight of you. âMaybe you should stop being so intimidating.â
You stared blankly at him. âSays you.â
âIâm pretty certain people donât run away from me in fear.â
âFear makes people respect you,â You replied as you gathered all your parchments in a neat pile to take back with you to the common room.
âIâm sure thatâs what Voldemort thought as well,â he mused.
âWhatever,â Scoffing, you stood up with an almost sassy quality to the way you propped your hips out to the side staring down at him. âYou donât see me planning to take over the Wizarding World now, do you? Too much of a hazard.â
Yoongi raised his eyebrows, half smirk on his lips. âHow would I know? You could be conspiring up a plan as we speak.â
âFunny,â A blank statement coming from you. âWell youâre starting to annoy me, so Iâm leaving.â
With those words, you turned around with your things and walked away.Â
âYouâre welcome!â he called after you.Â
Walking out of the library you headed towards the dungeons People from other houses might find the lower levels of the castle uncomfortable and a hint creepy. But you found comfort in the dim lights and darkened hallways. After going through them every day for the past seven years, you do get used to it.Â
But the cool air reminded you too much of your home with your parents which sent unwanted shivers across your skin.Â
With a mutter of the password in front of the entrance, it swung open allowing you inside. It was mostly empty, seeing how it was Sunday after all. And most people were probably still hanging around at Hogsmeade before classes started again in the morning.Â
But a particular figure lounging on the black leather couch in front of the fire caught your attention. You walked over and plopped down on the couch beside him as you put your things on the table in front of you. He didnât even acknowledge your existence as you looked at him.Â
âWhatâs with the face?â You asked.Â
Liam Parkinson let out a dramatic sigh as he leaned further back on the couch, looking positively devastated.
Or at least he tried to. You knew the guy far too well to know when he was playing it up.Â
âIâm being dumped by my two best friends...â he muttered miserably.Â
âWhat did they do?â You questioned while your lips twitched.Â
âHanging out with their girlfriends is what.â He was actually sulking, dear Merlin. âLeaving me all alone.â
âWait, I thought Albus and that Jordan girl broke up before summer?â You said confused.Â
âThey did,â Liam agreed. âBut apparently they contacted each other again during the break and are trying to âfigure things outâ.â He said in question marks. âWhatever that bloody means.â
You noticed how bitter those words sounded as you suppressed a laugh. Â
âAwe, come on now Parkinson,â you cooed teasingly and threw an arm around his shoulders. âIâll tell Albus of your heartbreak.â
He glared. âYouâre a cunt, you know that?â
âIâve heard worse,â You shrugged nonchalantly.Â
âYou know, I havenât snogged anyone in over six months,â Liam told you like it was the most scandalous event to exist.Â
âIâm sorry to hear that?â
âYeah, so am I!â he nodded his head vigorously.Â
âWhat, no French girls that caught your attention?â Referring to his trip to France with his family during the summer break.
âNone...â he grumbled, before suddenly perking up again. Suddenly his face was uncomfortably close to yours as you stared at him weirdly.Â
âSnog me, Y/N.â
You simply scoffed as you put a finger on his forehead and pushed him away.Â
âIâm not gonna snog you, Parkinson.âÂ
âWhy not?â Liam whined out.Â
âI donât go around kissing friends.â
âIsnât that what friends are for?â He pointed out as you arched an eyebrow.Â
âNot when it comes to your intimate needs.â
âIs this because of Min?âÂ
You paused for a moment. âWhat about him?â
âI mean you have been spending awfully a lot of time with him,â Liam pointed out.Â
âItâs not like I seek him out.â It wasnât your fault the castle was awfully small these days. âWe just happen to cross paths a lot. Weâre in the same house and year.â
âStill,â Your friend shrugged. âWhy now? Youâve had six years to talk to him.â
You only shook your head in a dismissive way and didnât bother to reply.Â
The truth was that you didnât have an answer for him.Â
You wondered yourself; Why now?
+
The Great Hall was pretty vacant on a Wednesday afternoon. Many still in their last class for the day, while others were lucky enough to have a free period before dinner and chose to spend the time outside before winter drew closer.Â
Yoongi was counted as one of the lucky ones as he sat by the long table, his friends of the same age sitting on either side of him.
Namjoon was busy scribbling down notes from a Transfiguration book, his black-rimmed glasses pushed to the bridge of his nose, while Hoseok was staring out into space, absently making a napkin float in the air with his wand. They only missed Seokjin from the same year who was a Gryffindor, but he was too busy with Quidditch practice to be with them.
The boys had three other friends in their close-knit group. But they were younger than them, so classes were scheduled differently.
Yoongi himself wasnât doing much as he sat there silently reading a book he didnât even remember the plot of. He must have spaced off some time ago as he read the same sentence over and over again.
A screech pulled him out of his daydreaming, and he looked up to see a familiar black owl swooping towards him. The bird elegantly settled itself on the table in front of him with a letter in its beak.
Taking it, Yoongi gave an affectionate scratch on top of his head. âThanks, Hades.â
With another sharp squeak, the owl opened its wings and flew back out.
Yoongi looked down at the envelope and let out a sigh as he recognized the rich and thick parchment.
âAnother one?â Hoseokâs voice asked him sympathetically.
âYeah,â the Slytherin only said while he ripped open the dark purple wax seal.
Yoongi.
Your father and I trust that your studies are going well. Keep a reminder that this is your last chance for the highest grades if you have ever cared about your future. We will be visiting your cousin for Christmas - she is getting married to a very high standing officer within the Ministry of East Asia. You should learn something from her.Â
Nevertheless, youâll have to remain at Hogwarts this year. And do not think I have forgotten about your childish decision to drop the Prefect position without consulting us. You will go through with this marriage, which will only benefit our family. So stop being selfish and think of our family for once.Â
Do try to keep your distance from those of lesser positions, my dear. We wouldnât want to taint this arrangement anymore than necessary.
Mother.Â
His eyes scanned over the elegant writing of his mother, for each sentence his jaw tightened in annoyance and frustration. The letter was finished with the familiar seal of his family. As if it was some kind of formal greeting instead of just a message to her son.
After finishing it, he threw it on the table as Hoseok reached out for the parchment to see for himself.Â
âIs she still going on about that engagement?â Namjoon then spoke up, attention never pulled away from his scribbling.Â
âSeems like I have no choice anymore,â Yoongi grumbled out his reply with dark eyes.Â
He heard a scoff to his side and glanced over at his Hufflepuff friend. âAnd she never forgets to remind you to keep away from mudbloods and blood traitors, I see,â he did air quotations as he said the terms, not even the slightest bothered even if he knew a part of it was directed to him.Â
âYou know my motherâs obsession with blood purity,â Yoongi could only shake his head in shame at that.Â
âDo you know who the family is?â Namjoon cut in, changing the subject.Â
âOf the bride? No idea. They havenât even told me who theyâre considering. Knowing them itâs probably some pureblood snob from a powerful family.â
âThey canât actually force you, can they?â Hoseok asked in disbelief. âI mean itâs your life!â
âIf only it was that easy, mate,â He sighed, now suddenly feeling the weight of the whole situation resting on his shoulders.Â
âWhy, youâre already seventeen. Thereâs nothing they can do,â the Hufflepuff countered fiercely.
âTechnically they canât,â Namjoon said, closing his book gently, back straightening, and both knew he was about to come with another intellectual fact of his. âBut you also have to remember that without contact with his family, Yoongi wouldnât have anything to live on. His Gringotts account is connected to his family name. So if he were to just drop it all and run away, it would be futile.â
âHe has us!â Hoseok argued. âItâs not like we would let our friend roam around without money.â
âI wouldnât let you,â Yoongi then snapped, before taking a deep breath. âAs much as I despise my blood, Iâm not going to spit on my pride and borrow money from any of you.â
âThen what are you going to do?â His friend asked with a look. âYouâre not just going to let them ship you off to some unknown girl?â
âIâm pretty sure itâs the girl thatâs coming to him. If we account for the misogynistic traits of pureblood families.â Namjoon decided to correct, as both of the men present rolled their eyes.Â
âI donât know,â Yoongi admitted. âBut if thereâs one thing Iâm sure of, it's that Iâm not getting married anytime soon.â
âIs that why you dropped out of the prefect position?â Hoseok asked, finally bringing up the subject their whole group had been curious about ever since the term started. âBecause of the arrangement?â
âJust a last attempt at trying to persuade my mother. Didnât exactly work,â Yoongi scoffed, remembering back to his last desperate attempt to try and change his parent's mind.Â
When he had first gotten Prefect in his fifth year, Yoongi could admit that he had been quite proud. He was raised to become a great leader and at that time was still under the influence of his parents' larger-than-life ambitions for him. Luckily it wasnât like that anymore and he was his own person now. Though a person is still chained to his family name.Â
âSince when did you and Greengrass get close?â Namjoon suddenly asked. âMy girl says sheâs quite scary.â
âYour girl?â Hoseok repeated amused, leaning forward in interest. âYou mean the girl you met in the library? I thought that was just a one-time thing. How does she even know Greengrass?â
The Ravenclaw shrugged, though there was a visible blush slowly spreading on his cheeks. âWe just started to hang out and things changed. Besides, she's a Slytherin as well.â
âThe girl who dyed my hair pink?â Yoongi deadpanned as both of his friends snorted at the reminder.Â
âI thought you quite liked the look,â Hoseok smirked mischievously.Â
âI was just too lazy to change it.'' The older male defended himself, even though he had spent the rest of the semester wearing the shocking color. âAnd weâre just talking, itâs not that big of a deal.â
Hoseok and Namjoon exchanged glances without the knowledge of their other friend.Â
âWhat if sheâs the one youâre arranged to marry?â Namjoon joked.Â
âHah! That would be something,â Hoseok laughed before high-fiving him.Â
Yoongi rolled his eyes at the antics of friends. âYouâre both insane.â
Yet a part of him whispered almost tauntingly, but what if?
He brushed it away quickly.Â
+
Staring up at the black iron gates that separated you from your house caused you to heave out a tired sigh. The feeling of the impending doom somehow wouldnât go away.Â
You had been called up to the headmistressâ office on a whim while you were on your way to the Great Hall for some dinner. Apparently, there had been an urgent message coming from your mother demanding your presence back at the manor for the evening.Â
Knowing your mother, you knew she was probably just being overdramatic about something that didnât have to do with you but still wanted to have you there for just one reason; they were having guests over and wanted to give the overall false image of a happy and complete family.Â
The entire idea of having to play pretend with your parents and obnoxious sister made you want to spend the night in Azkaban instead because your youngest brother had not been called him.Â
Taking out your wand, you waved it in front of you as the protective shield identified you as one of the residents before flickering away for a moment to allow you access. The metal gates ground open as you made your way down the path to your house.
After stepping inside and closing the door behind you, you remained silent for a couple of seconds, trying to detect the sounds of chattering coming from the dining room - but there were none.Â
Sighing again, you realized you had unfortunately managed to arrive before the guests had.Â
âY/N is that you?â
Before you had the chance to even think about escaping, your mother suddenly came from the direction of the library as she spotted you.
âMerlin, how slow can you be with a portkey at your disposal?â She shook her head before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you into the direction of the living room, her nails digging uncomfortably into your skin.Â
âNo one told me anything,â You defended yourself before shaking off her hold and walking the rest of the distance yourself.Â
âThat doesnât matter now. Youâre late and have no time to change and make yourself presentable,â she scowled in reply.
The only people in the living room were your father and sister, both looking presentable and clean - like a pureblood family should look. You stood out from your familyâs pristine and overpriced robes being dressed in your Hogwarts uniform.Â
You felt your father scan you from head to toe with his chilling and disapproving gaze as you avoided looking at him. You also noticed how your sister just wasnât looking presentable. She had dressed up more than usual, adorning a velvet emerald green dress that flared out from her waist and to her knees, the sleeves stopping at her elbows with a sweetheart neckline.Â
Something was definitely going on.Â
âWho are we waiting for?â You dared to question your family in the room.Â
Your mother rolled her eyes as if expecting you to know the answer already and guilt-tripping you for not being more involved in family affairs.Â
âYour sisterâs fiance and his family are coming for a visit, how could you forget?â She tsked.Â
Ah, the so-called arranged marriage that you had heard about for the past couple of months. You didnât know about the family or the guy, but they were obviously wealthy enough for your parents to look their best.Â
And how were you supposed to know that it was today?
âThen why am I here? Iâm not the one getting married,â You responded slightly annoyed.Â
âY/N, stop being rude and behave yourself!â Your father snapped in reply as you flinched back. âI expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. No foolish remarks, understood?â
With a clench of your fists, you nodded mutely, not offering any words in fear of your anger showing and making him even more pissy. Your sister simply scoffed before smoothing her hands down the fabric of her dress with an excited glint in her eyes.Â
âMother, do you think heâll like me?â She asked with the voice of an innocent girl as you resisted the urge to show your irritation.Â
âOf course he will, darling!â Your mother cooed, patting down her hair gently. âAny man would be a fool not to like you.â
âWeâll see about that,â You muttered to yourself as your sibling heard and sent you a fleeting glare while you smirked in reply.Â
It was at that moment that the flames of your fireplace rose up high and turned green as your family all waited for the guests. The first one to step out was a man. He was smaller than your father in his height and had a bit of a belly prodding out. His hair was black and slicked back and his looks were East Asian. Korean at the looks of things.Â
A woman came out next. Small and petite, but with a stern gaze that calculated if you were worthy to be in her presence or not. They were both dressed in expensive clothes, with sparkling pearls adorning the neck of the woman, and a golden watch on the wrist of the man.Â
âDong Wook, Yoon Hee! So good to see you two again!â Your mother went forward to greet both of them enthusiastically, your father following her lead, though a lot more subdued and only offering polite handshakes. You were pretty certain your mother had butchered their names though, holding back a snort.Â
âAh yes, it has been quite a while,â the woman, Yoon Hee, replied calmly with a stiff smile. She reminded you of a statue.
âWe are looking forward to this union as much as you are,â The man spoke up, a slight accent in his voice.Â
âOf course - where is your son?â Blaise Zabini asked the other couple.Â
As you waited uninterested for the supposed husband to arrive, you didnât offer to introduce yourself and instead kept silent in the background.Â
âHe was just behind u - oh here he comes.â
Simply being curious by nature, you came a bit closer to the huddling group to get a good look at the guy your sister was to marry.Â
It wasnât someone you expected to see.Â
+
He was frozen.Â
Not only that, but he was completely speechless as well.Â
Min Yoongi was frozen and speechless. And it wasnât often that someone managed to render him to that state.
He didnât know what he was expecting when he stepped out of the flames.Â
A posh-looking family dressed in their finest robes ready to impress his family? Thatâs exactly what he got. But the addition of you standing next to them in your Hogwarts uniform definitely caught him off guard for a moment.
But it was just that. A single moment.
He couldnât let his parents see his slip-up.
But he wanted to laugh. Not only laugh but actually cackle at the fucking irony after his conversation with his friends in the Great Hall. A small bloody world, indeed.Â
And by the look of things, it wasnât you who was assigned as his bride-to-be. Rather your sister, who looked far too excited for his taste.
Yoongi remained silent as he stayed behind his parents, still easily seen because of his superior height in comparison to them. He simply offered a polite nod and tense smile to the three Greengrass family members, who seemed determined to keep the pleasant conversation flowing between them and his parents.Â
But he couldnât help his gaze from straying to where you stood. Several times actually.
It was obvious you were the odd one out. Not just because of your clothing. The distance you kept was fairly obvious, and your facial expressions told him that youâd rather be anywhere else right now.Â
The next time he glanced at you again, he was fairly embarrassed to see you already looking at him.
You were arching your eyebrow up in an expression that obviously asked: âThought I didnât notice?â
âYoongi, why donât you let your fiancĂ© give you a tour of the house and get to know each other?â His mother suggested, sounding pleasantly polite, but her eyes that stared at him told him he had no other choice.Â
âOf course, you two go on then,â Mrs. Greengrass agreed and ushered her eldest daughter to his side.Â
Just as he was about to follow her out of the room, he heard your voice speak up in the most polite tone he had ever experienced from you.Â
âThen you wouldnât mind if I took my leave then, mother?â
Yoongi only managed to catch a glimpse of the expression on your parent's faces, but it wasn't good.Â
âWhy donât you join them?â His father suddenly spoke up. âY/N was it?â
You nodded. âYes sir.â
âManners,â he nodded approvingly. âWeâre to be family, after all, you should join them.â
Your eyes flickered to where he stood and the clear reluctance in them made him have to smother his chuckle into a small cough.Â
âBut theyâre to be married, shouldnât the two of them spend the time together?â Your mother argued back, voice strained and trying to remain courteous.Â
Yoongiâs mother shrugged. âLike my husband said, we are to be family after all. And theyâll have more than enough time to get to know each other during their marriage.â The finality in her words was obvious as Mrs. Greengrass simply nodded.Â
He saw you nodding at his parents with a strained smile before making your way over to where he stood with your sister, her hands already holding onto his arm impatiently.Â
When the three of you got out of the dining hall and out of hearing range of the adults, his fiancĂ© - which he still didnât know the name of - was quick to speak up.Â
âCouldnât you just have remained silent, Y/N?â She spoke to you in annoyance as you sent her a sarcastic smile.Â
âI couldnât exactly say no either, Isla â you retorted from the other side of him.Â
Ah, so that was her name.Â
âYou did that on purpose didnât you?â Isla, now glared.Â
You never let lost the, frankly, malicious expression. âOh yes, because third wheeling on you and your fiancĂ©âs awkward first meeting was my ultimate goal.â
âThatâs a bit offensive, how would you know if Iâm awkwardâ Yoongi finally spoke up after arriving, sniggering like a five-year-old at the look you sent him.Â
âItâs not offensive if itâs true,â You replied with a careless shrug. âAnd I do know you. You might think youâre a smooth talker, but this screams awkwardness.â
âArenât you being a bit too cocky right now?â He arched an eyebrow. âWe are to be family, after all, sister.â
Your face scrunched up at the word as you punched him in the arm. âThatâs disgusting, donât call me that.â
Yoongi had stumbled slightly to the side, letting out a short laugh at your expression.Â
âWhat the bloody hell is going on?â
Both of you stopped and turned to look at Isla, who was looking somewhat confused and angry at the same time.Â
âWhat?â You asked her.Â
âYou two know each other?â
âIsnât that quite obvious?â Yoongi drawled in reply, looking at her blankly.
âWeâre in the same house and year, how do you expect us not to know each other?â You felt the need to clarify for your sister.Â
âWhy do you always have to ruin things for me, Y/N?â Isla sneered.Â
âNews flash, darling,â You returned it. âThe world doesnât revolve around you.âÂ
Rather than replying, Isla simply huffed, grabbing his arm again and pulling him along rather forcefully as Yoongi simply let her. Not a single part of him had been interested or engaged in todayâs meeting. But with your presence at his back, following them leisurely, he couldnât help but be slightly more present with how things would turn out.Â
Yoongi hardly paid attention every time Isla spoke and pointed out something of the Greengrass Manor as they walked through the dark, cold halls. He hummed here and there to keep up the pretense of giving a shit, and he knew you knew it as well with your scoffs and snorts now and then as your sister thought she was saying something interesting. They must have walked through a part where your bedroom was located, because he noticed your presence behind him suddenly ducking into a door to Islaâs ignorance, and he took his chance.
âDo you mind pointing me towards the bathroom?â Yoongi kept his voice neutral, and she was more than happy to. âIâll meet you downstairs with the others, this might take a while.â This time he sugarcoated a bit of a charming smile to convince her to leave, and it worked.Â
He waited a few seconds before coming back out and saw the hall empty, making his way towards the door you had slipped into, noticing how it was a smidge open. With a simple push of his hand, it opened with a quiet creak and he took in the spacious space curiously. Decorated after your taste in shades of dark burgundy and browns, a contrast to the rest of the house. But the chilly air remained.Â
âFind anything you like?âÂ
His eyes snapped to your form lounging on a reading nook right by the large windows seeing out into the vast estate gardens, it being pitch black outside. You were leaning against a heap of pillows, a blanket loosely pulled over your bare legs in the uniform.Â
âYou snuck away, so I was worried.â
âWorried, or curious?âÂ
Yoongi offered a half-hearted tug of his lips. âDoes it matter?â
âI guess not.â You glanced at him again, taking in his form leaning against the doorway casually. âYou can come in, you know.â
âDidnât want to risk getting hexed, is all.â
âIf I wanted to hex you, I would have done it in the compartment.â
âFair enough.â
Walking inside the room leisurely, he couldnât help but feel like you were offering him a glimpse of your true self. It was decorated in a way to try and chase away the coldness of the house and your family itself, with colours that reminded him of Gryffindors rather than that of a snake in the dungeons.Â
You shifted slightly, and he took the silent invitation to sit down beside you on the wide, pillowed window seat, a few inches of space between you.Â
âSo? Marriage, huh.â
âStill in talks,â Yoongi mused mysteriously.Â
âYou obviously donât want to.â
âHm, was it my expression that gave it away?â You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic remark, kicking a foot against his thigh. He simply chuckled.Â
âWere you even aware?â
âSure, been for a while. But I never knew who.â
âWhatâs your verdict?â
His brown eyes met yours, almost with a sparkle in the dim lighting of your room. âThat Iâm not the only one with family issues.â
You both shared a laugh at the truth of that.Â
âThatâs to put it lightly.â
âHow about you? No prospects set up in your future?â
âMerlin, no.â You scoffed, an almost ironic chuckle following. âMy parents would never offer me up to anyone. Iâm tooâŠrisky. Stubborn and prideful too. Theyâve given up on my romantic life and only care about the career aspect of it.â
âI wish that was me.â Yoongi shifted closer, his thigh touching your stocking-covered feet, shoes already on the hardwood floor.Â
As if testing the waters of your strange friendship with him, you stretched your legs lightly only to rest them across his lap, and he turned an amused gaze towards you at the action but didnât push them off.Â
âYou donât mind, do you?â Your voice was teasing as he shook his head.Â
âYou want a foot massage at that too, Greengrass?â
âIf youâre offering-â Your words cut off in a slight squeal as his fingers tickled the underside of it. âStop it!â
Luckily he did, but not before grinning mischievously, instead resting his hands on your calves surprisingly relaxed. This was the closest the two of you had ever been in the last two months since the train, a strange yet not-so-abnormal development.Â
âWe should probably get back down before they start looking.â
Yoongi hummed, agreeing to your statement. âWe should.â Yet he didnât bother moving.
Looking up from your lap you were surprised to him already staring at you. Or observing might be the better word, because there was no hiding the curiosity shining in those, frankly, hypnotizing brown eyes.Â
Licking your dry lips, his eyes flickered down to the motion as you clicked your tongue almost smugly. âAnything interesting to see?â
Your body stiffened unexpectedly at the warmth of his surprisingly large hands curling around your calves, his lean body leaning forward with a small, suspicious smile. âIf I didnât know any better, I would think you were trying to seduce me, Greengrass.â
Flicking up a brow, you kept your nonchalant attitude. âAnd if I was?â
âThat would be quite the scandal, wouldnât it?â He kept his voice low, lower than his natural voice which was already deep enough to sometimes grate against your skin. âIâm to be your future brother-in-law after all.â
âThought you werenât interested in marriage?â You couldnât help but goat him further, straightening in your lounged position against the pillows that drifted you further towards him.Â
âWould still cause a scandal.â
âI donât peg you for someone who gives a shit,â Your blunt words were rewarded with a huff of his low laugh as you swallowed. Were you nervous?Â
âWell, now youâre just tempting me,â Yoongiâs dark eyes were dangerously intense, looking you over as if you wore something much more interesting than the rumpled Hogwarts uniform.Â
âTempting you?â You repeated, not managing to keep your laughter at bay, lips slightly pulling back and revealing your teeth in a small grin. âDidnât know I was someone able to tempt you.â
His surprise this time seemed to be genuine. âAre you serious?â
Your arms crossed almost defensively. âWhat?â
âYou donât think guys are interested in you?â
âI didnât say that,â You replied calmly. âEven so, they hardly make the effort to let me know theyâre interested.â
âI told you, itâs the evil smirk and glare you always waltz around with.â
You kicked his leg again in retaliation, as Yoongi laughed, managing to grab a hold of it and tug you forward surprisingly quickly for his lazy demeanor, your thighs now resting sideways on his lap.Â
âYou are a menace,â You muttered, no real ire in the words, gaze flickering back up to his.Â
He was thinking about something, or considering it. That much was obvious to your keen eyes, but you werenât sure of the specifics. âWhat is it?â
âWhat do you mean?â He sounded a bit too relaxed, however.Â
âYouâre thinking awfully hard about something,â You pointed out almost a little bit too obnoxiously. It didnât seem to bother him.Â
His tongue dragged along the inside of his lower lip as he gave himself just a couple seconds to debate saying what immediately came to mind.Â
âIâm thinking of kissing you.âÂ
Your breath caught, throat seemingly drying up at the bold admission. Your widened eyes taking him in and expecting a joke to follow the words. But he remained scarily serious, lips never twitching up into a smile, only taking in your reaction carefully.
Bloody hell, he was being serious.
As if opening some secret door in your mind, your eyes really took him in this time around. Starting from his immaculate black clothes to his hands and ending at his face, his surprisingly soft-looking lips capturing your attention.Â
âThatâsâŠcertainly interesting,â You croaked, not managing anything else.
Those mesmerizing pink lips pulled up into the hint of a smirk, feeling much closer than before. âIs it?â
âScandalous, actually,â You whispered nearly dazed, before managing to look into his eyes again.Â
Shit, he was close. Suddenly comprehending the warmth of his hands placed on your thighs above your skirt, the blanket having somehow slipped to the floor and his face only inches away from your own.Â
âVery scandalous,â Yoongi hummed, a low sound that you enjoyed more than you cared to admit. âBut tempting, no?â
He was getting closer, only a whisper of a breath away from yourself. His breath was fresh, probably having brushed his teeth before arriving with the smell of his spicy, yet tantalizing cologne tickling your nose.Â
âThey could kill us for this.â There was no secret who they were, with both of your families still waiting downstairs, oblivious to the thoughts both of you were having in the privacy of your room.
"Your best friend is Albus Potter. I'm sure he can convince his father to spare us from the wrath of our uptight parents."
His joke hardly helped.
Your attention was suddenly reminded of the still open door, but before you could say anything it gently flicked shut with a wave of Yoongiâs wand and a murmur of a spell, which you recognized as a silencing spell as well as a detection one just in case.
âAre you afraid?â His whisper ghosted over your skin, the familiar hint of your defiance returning to his satisfaction, scoffing and giving a look of âReally?â
He continued, aware of his selfish desires as his goading continued, but not caring enough about the consequences to stop. âWhatâs stopping you then?â
You took a deep breath as if trying to calm yourself. But the moment you opened your eyes again, Yoongi knew you had decided as a brow flicked up in expectation.Â
âIs it ladies first in this situation then?â
With a grin he hardly noticed on himself, Yoongi surged forward with a hand cupping your cheek as he pulled your lips against his firmly, a breath whooshing out of your nose at the action. There was no hesitation on his part as he pulled one of your legs over his hips and switching your positions so you straddled him.Â
Your hands traveled up his nape and curled into the strands of his hair as your mouth opened to return the intense kiss. His tongue licked into your own, as he let out a sigh of relief almost, your heart thundering inside your ribcage, wanting to be closer to him, as you did just that.Â
Bodies flush against each other you returned his kiss enthusiastically. Feeling his hands slipping underneath the untucked shirt, your breath hitched.Â
Yoongi couldnât help but wonder what other sounds he could get you make. Your fingers combed their way into the back of his hair, carding through the soft strands of it as he gripped at your hips. One hand dragged heavily up your spine, guiding you to arch further forward and against him.
A protest lay ready on your lips as you felt him pull back, only to turn into a soft moan as his lips traveled down your jaw and the sensitive skin of your neck, head tilting to the side to give him more access.Â
Actually, you wanted him to continue his kisses exactly there, finger tightened and trying to hold him there in light demand, as Yoongi chuckled against you, teeth nipping gently in response.Â
His mouth returned to yours, intense kisses turning slightly more desperate for you as you shifted, hips rising and aligned with his own before grinding down to chase after the heat that had taken over your body, one place specifically flaring for attention.Â
He groaned lightly, body leaning back to give you more access this time around, and you continued the slow roll of your hips, skirt bunching around your waist as his hands left your hips and trailed down the sides of your thighs, the stinging cold of his silver ring following that you hadnât noticed.Â
You felt him hardening quickly beneath your ministrations. But it was affecting you more than him, with only the barrier of your knickers separating your throbbing clit compared to the material of his slacks as well as underwear.Â
âFuck, youâre driving me crazy.â Yoongi murmured softly, finally finding the strength to pull back from your tempting lips.Â
âDonât you dare stop, Min Yoongi,â You breathed out harshly.Â
âOh yeah? Is that a demand, love?â He had the fucking audacity to smile at you, innocently at that, as if he didnât know what you were going through, his hands cupping the cheeks of your arse and holding you tightly against him. Â
With another pointed grind of your hips, you watched in satisfaction as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head with a grunt before fluttering back open, but only making the want in you even needier, your desperate want for him flaring even more.Â
With an almost vicious tug of your fingers in his hair to tilt his head back, he hissed at the pinches of pain as you leaned forward to murmur against his ear. âIf you do not make me come before leaving this room, I will hex you into oblivion.â
With a hoarse laugh coming from the back of his throat, Yoongi returned to pressing wet kisses against the side of your neck. âYou could have just asked, Greengrass.â
He didnât give you a warning until you felt one of his hands sneakily slip to the front and pull your knickers to the side as his thumb found your swollen clit embarrassingly quickly. Your breath hitched due to your sensitivity before easing out into a moan as he started circling the nub, your hips twitching and rolling slowly as if following the motion.
âSo responsive,â Yoongi hummed in satisfaction, gaze locked onto your expression to watch your response to every move of his fingers.Â
You felt him slide them between your cunt, finding your wet entrance as he slowly pushed a single, long finger inside, never stopping his torturous, slow circling. Your hands found the nape of his neck, gripping almost too tight.Â
âFuck, stop teasing me,â You begged, practically draped over his body, sweat coating your skin underneath the white blouse. âPlease.â
Grappling around to find his face, you pressed your lips desperately against his, trading slow open-mouthed kisses as he continued his dance against your clit while pushing a second finger inside your squelching cunt.Â
Your moans started breaking up, hips quickening and trying to chase that building feeling of completion, but his other hand which gripped your hip tightened, pulling you to a stop.Â
âIf I had known how wet you get for me I would have fucked you sooner,â It was Yoongiâs turn to exhale harshly, your pleasure seemingly affecting himself as his fingers sped up, pulling a long whine from you as your blunt nails dug into his skin.Â
Yoongi didnât seem to mind.Â
He felt it coming, the way your whole body was starting to tense up, your continued whisper begging him not to stop, your thighs nearly caging him in as he listened gladly, face tugging into the crook of your neck as his own arousal was throbbing beneath his clothes.Â
The moment his thumb pressed down against your swollen nub, you came with a shuddering moan, your walls clamping down on his fingers and pulsing as your thighs shook. His circling slowed down, helping you through your high until you stilled above him, breathing harshly and wiggling to make him stop.Â
Listening to the silent demand, he made sure you were watching him as he pulled his fingers out and lifted them to his mouth, sucking your essence off as your half-hooded gaze followed the movement.Â
âDelectable,â Yoongi grinned, watching the addicting way you ducked your head in embarrassment, a new emotion coming from you.Â
As if realizing what had just occurred, you nearly jumped off him, but stumbled to the side from being seated so long, his clean hand coming up to balance you as your skirt fell back down to cover you.Â
Glancing in the mirror, you were shocked at how thoroughly fucked you look. Hair slightly frizzled, clothes askew, and your skin flushed down to your neck. Yoongi couldnât look more satisfied, leaning back on his hands and taking in your appearance with a quick scourgify charm and cleaning you both up.Â
âStop looking soâŠsmug!â You couldnât help but huff.Â
âCanât help it,â He grinned again, an expression he offered you much more freely now. âI asked for a kiss but you gave me something much more, love.â
âYou started it.â Was your mature reply.Â
âAnd I donât regret it.â
âBloody hell!â You cursed, suddenly reminded where the two of you were, and spun around to look at the clock. Fifteen minutes.Â
âWe need to go.â
For once he nodded in agreement. âYou go first. Find some excuse that Iâm in the library or something and Iâll be there soon enough.â
Your eyes narrowed. âExcuse me? Why are you not coming?â
As if talking to a child, you followed his pointed gaze towards his lap at the bulging evidence as your mouth parted in realization, a cough scratching against your throat.Â
âRight, thatâsâŠmy fault. But you are not jacking off in my room!â
Yoongi simply laughed. âIâm not gonna jack off, Greengrass. I only need a few minutes to calm down. Go ahead, alright.â
With another suspicious glance, you relented.Â
âFine.âÂ
Walking briskly out of your bedroom after making sure everything looked alright, a part of didnât deny the urge to run away from the bizarre situation that just happened between you two.Â
So much that you nearly begged your parents to let you go back to Hogwarts for the evening, in the middle of their tea time before dinner. They let you, luckily. And with a tense goodbye to the Minâs, you rushed out of the dark manor as if fire was licking at your heels, vanishing with the portkey outside the iron gates.
+Â
Min Yoongi was avoiding you.Â
An irritating discovery that made the anger in you boil over.Â
A strange moment occurred in the common room one night as you stepped inside between Scorpius and Albus to see the man sitting in the leather armchair by the fireplace, only to stand up and leave the moment he caught your eye with a flat expression.Â
Obviously, you had expected him to seek you out after your quick retreat from the manor, but that was simply due to the fact you didnât feel like being in a room of your family after having been finger fucked to oblivion by the one person they wanted as a son-in-law for your sister.Â
So you had waited, tensely at that, for days for him to find you. Days went by until you managed to see the first sight of in in the Great Hall with his usual friends. But he had ignored you, or simply not paid attention.Â
The second time had been in the halls of your classes, with him coming from the opposite way. But he had been engrossed in a conversation with his Gryffindor friend to the point you were unsure if he had even noticed you.Â
It wasnât until the third time in the common room that you knew for sure the bastard was avoiding you. And you had no bloody clue why, because you werenât the one to initiate the kiss and cross the line the two of you had drawn.Â
It was him. So his mess to clear up, and not yours.Â
By the second week of no communication besides exchanged glares from your part, and empty looks from him, youâve had enough.Â
You had a free period - lo and behold, so did he. He was sitting in the Great Hall, surrounded by all of his friends, listening silently as they spoke animately around him.Â
Everything silenced, however, the moment you stopped behind him, hands on your hips as you stared daggers into him. Yoongi had the nerve to not turn around and face you, despite being aware of you there.Â
âCan I help you, Greengrass?â He simply drawled uninterested, igniting the cribbling irritation you were already feeling.Â
âWe need to talk,â You grinded out, ignoring the obvious looks his friends were exchanging between themselves.Â
âAbout what?â
âYou know what!â Was your snap. Ready with another pissed-off retort, he finally heaved heavily before standing up and stepping over the bench. His slightly superior height over yourself added to your anger, as he tilted head in expectation.Â
âAfter you.â
With a glare you lead the way out of the Hall, going until the end of the long hallway and underneath a hidden alcove many didnât pay attention to. Turning around with arms crossed over your chest, Yoongi leaned back against the stone walls with a bored expression.Â
âWhat the fuck is your problem?â
He didnât react, only offering you a glance of attention. âDonât tell me you expected anything?â
âWhat?â
âIt was a bit of fun, Greengrass. Hardly need for a deep conversation after.â
The bloody nerve of him.Â
âHow dare you!â You spit out, the harshness of those words actually catching his attention. âHow fucking dare you. Tricking me, using me for my body and only to avoid me after?â
Guilt flashed in his eyes, of how this situation felt for you as a woman. But it disappeared quickly after, as he steeled himself yet again, features falling flat. âIâm sorry that you feel that way, but that isnât why Iâm avoiding you.â
âThen why?â
âIâm your sisterâs fianceĂ©, remember,â He delivered coldly. âIf the family knows what we did it will ruin both of our reputations.â
âYou know I donât give a fuck of my reputation!â You shook your head in near dizziness, gesturing between you almost wildly. âIâm trying to fix this friendship.â
âIt was a bad idea to begin with. Weâre to be family after all. Canât have us fucking secretly in broom cupboards now, do we?â His crass words somehow managed to make you flinch, the prospective shame of being viewed as the secret sidepiece to your sisterâs husband.Â
This whiplash of a change in his behavior was slowly drawing your energy. Two weeks ago he had told you there was no marriage if he could stop it, and now he had seemingly already settled into the future role of a pureblood husband.Â
Despite only having known each other for nearly three months, you had figured him out fairly quick. He was cold in his interactions with others, and borderline bored. But you had seen him with his friends.
And you.
That gentle smile, teasing quick of his smirk or rare bright grin whenever he truly let himself go without fear of being judged.Â
He was a man who cared deeply but hid it beneath an exterior of aloofness and severity due to the demands of his family and expectations of the world. Something the two of you shared, and been able to understand from each other.Â
Yoongi was someone who had become dear to you in a short amount of time, even to the surprise of your own friends - who had watched the development in fascination.Â
You thought he at least had the decency to feel the same about you. If not a potential lover, then at least a respected friend.Â
Brushing his slightly parted black hair back with a hand, he rove another expected gaze over you with a sigh. âIf weâre done here-â
âWhy do you keep shutting me out?â You spat out in anger, stopping him in his tracks to turn around and walk away.Â
His back was tense underneath the black school robe. From your view, you saw how he clenched his teeth to refrain from saying something he would regret. Not that he hadnât already. Only lucky that you could take a biter fiercer than anyone else. But you didnât care about filter at the moment. You would be damned if you let him walk away from you without a clear explanation of his change of personality.Â
âI said itâs none of your business!â he snapped in return, the first time to raise his voice at you.Â
You didnât bother to hide the scoff coming out of you. âWell, you made it my bloody business the moment you spoke to me!â
Yoongi still didnât bother to turn around and face you, so you could only see his side profile. Your eyes trailed down to his hands that were tightened into fists by his side. Nails digging into his skin creating marks. His black hair was messier than usual like heâd run his fingers through it too many times during the last hour.Â
âBloody hell, Y/N, just leave me alone,â he whipped around to glare at you coldly, mouth pulled up in a sneer. An expression you had seen many times, but jokingly. Never had it been pointed at you, and you nearly flinched at the viciousness of it.Â
You resisted the urge to whip out your wand and curse him into oblivion. With a determined mind, you walked up to him and grabbed his wrist tightly.Â
As if trying to squeeze some sense back into him.Â
He was void of any emotions. Telling you nothing of what he was feeling, his walls up higher than you had ever seen, reminding you of a fortress to never be shaken.Â
âYou need to stop pushing me away,â You told him in a hard voice. âNot everyone is out to betray or control you. Fuck, I care about you, okay!â
His eyes flickered down to meet your own, but they still remained blank, making the pit in your stomach grow.Â
Yoongi pulled his wrist away from your hold. âStop caring.â
And then he walked away, leaving you standing alone in the hallways of the castle.
+
Christmas came and went.
Your holidays having been spent completely at the Malfoy Manor to your parentâs chagrin.
But you had remained firm in your choice after hearing the Minâs were coming over again with their son to spend more time together for your sisterâs benefit. So you had made sure to stay the bloody hell away.Â
Min Yoongi had kept to his words since that faithful argument in the hallways, completely ignoring you and acting like you never talked to each other before. Just like it had been the six first years.Â
It annoyed you how much you still thought about that heartless bastard. You had done swimmingly well so far until that stupid day on the train. Six years without a single word towards him, yet he had managed to flip your world upside down as if he had been the missing piece in it all along.Â
Scorpius had noticed it. Albus had noticed it. For fuckâs sake, even Liam Parkinson who could be as daft as a troll sometimes, noticed it after the argument.Â
âSo his excuse was that you couldnât be friends because heâs engaged to your harpy of a sister?â Albus brought it up again one morning during breakfast, the first week back to Hogwarts after the holidays.Â
âYes.â You sighed wearily, at this point having no energy to care anymore. Even though you knew otherwise.Â
âEven after he finger fucked you?â Liam deadpanned beside you, as a unanimous groan went through the rest of your friends.Â
âThatâs disgusting. I donât need to hear that about my cousin,â Scorpius grimaced, pushing away his nearly demolished plate of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.Â
âYou think I have a magical vagina or something, Parkinson?â You flicked up a brow, but Liam being Liam only leaned in with a saucy wink.Â
âI could believe it.â
âMerlin, stop it, please.â Albus looked seemingly green from his seat. âYouâre basically my sister, so please stop talking.â
âA sister that you made out with last year,â Scorpius muttered loud enough for the group to hear as Albus blushed red to the tip of his ears.
âW-we were drunk!â He argued with a small glare. âI thought we already agreed to let it go.â
âDonât worry, Al.â With an innocent batter of your eyes, you joined in on the heckling. âYou can admit I was a damn good kisser.â
âShut up.â Throwing a grape in your direction, you simply caught it with a hand before popping it into your mouth with a teasing grin.Â
Slinging an arm over your shoulders, Liam sighed almost sadly. âWhy does Al get to kiss you, but I donât?â
Leaning back on a hand, you stared. âYou want to kiss right now?âÂ
He didnât expect the reply, startling with slightly wide eyes before they narrowed again, detecting the tug of your lips with a waggling finger.Â
âYou are one sneaky witch.â
âI know,â Sharing a chuckle, all four of you finished breakfast before heading out for a walk in the cold, but sparkling snow-covered grounds warmly wrapped in your scarves and mittens.Â
It was a Sunday; everyone was seemingly dead tired after the first week of classes and sleeping beside your group. It was the last year for everyone, so you blamed it on wanting to spend as much time as possible before leaving the castle that had been your home for the last seven years.Â
Just as you were about to wrap your green and silver scarf tightly around your neck as the main doors to the grounds came into view, Liam suddenly stood in your path with a suspicious grin.Â
âWhat?â You eyed him slowly.
âFrom a scale of 1 to 10, how much would you describe your vindictive vendetta against Min?Â
Looking to the side to catch the eyes of both Scorpius and Albus, who were obviously biting back smiles themselves, you frowned.Â
âWhat are you babbling on about?â
âJust answer please.â
âI donât know, 8.5?â The number came to you randomly but seemed realistic enough to describe your feelings.
Liam nodded seriously as if this was some serious discussion. â8.5, certainly very high. High enough for a drastic plan.â
You were confused. Utterly baffled about what he was talking about, simply staring without words to say.Â
Then he smirked, but not the kind that you were used to. The one he used to jokingly flirt and try to drag you into stupid situations. This was the smirk you had seen him use against witches enough of times to see them melting at his feet.
However, your wariness only rose.Â
âJust donât hex me, alright?â
âWhat are you-â
Before you knew it, he grabbed both ends of your scarf and tugged you against him, lips pressing against yours as your eyes widened in shock.Â
He leaned back just enough to mutter cheekily. âJust play along.â
Resisting a roll of your eyes, you listened. Letting them flutter shut as his mitten-covered hands came up to cup your cheeks and draw you into the kiss even further. He never used his tongue, only moving his lips against yours which you returned, hands loosely holding onto his waist until he pulled back.
âHm,â Liam pursed his lips thoughtfully with a nod. âNo lie there. Damn good kisser.â
Despite the bizarreness of it, you laughed.Â
âThat was ridiculous,â Scorpius shook his head, but there was an amused smile playing at his lips.Â
âExplain,â You finally demanded.Â
It was Albus who came over, grabbing your chin and turning your gaze in the direction of the doors just in time to see the familiar form of Yoongi disappearing from your views.Â
Your mouth parted in realization at what Liam had tried to do.Â
âYou scheming pieces of shit.â Your voice was proud, however, and the boys knew it as they high-fived before pulling you towards the grounds, all of you cackling like idiots.
âLetâs hope things only go up from here, huh,â Liam pulled you into his side while walking, and with a grin you stayed there the entire trip down to Hogsmeade.Â
+
You ran into each other not even three days later.
Literally nearly crashing coming from different directions before rounding a corner and you jumped back at the last second. Yoongi had halted as well, startled eyes cooling down swiftly and taking you in before moving to brush past you.Â
âHow was Christmas?âÂ
He paused, to your relief. And even replied. âAs usual. Nothing interesting despite the dinner.â
âDid your parents leave for Korea?â You remembered him mentioning it in brief passing and how he was supposed to stay at Hogwarts before shit went down at the manor.Â
âThey did,â A tense nod. âRight after and I returned to school.â
âAh, right.â Fuck, this was awkward. And ridiculously tense. âIâll just-â
âAnd you?â
You were shocked he even bothered to ask. âGood. Itâs always a nice time at the Malfoyâs. My aunt Astoria loves Christmas and makes a big deal out of it.â
âThe Malfoys, huh.â Yoongi looked like he had eaten something horrid. âI assume Parkinson was there as well?â
Liam? You frowned in confusion, why would he suddenly mention him? âYeah, he came over for a bit.â
âI see.â
He was acting odd. More than usual.Â
Then it went up to you. The kiss from two days ago, that Yoongi had obviously witnessed in his passing and you didnât even realize.Â
You couldnât stop the chuckle as his brown eyes zeroed in on the sound with narrowed eyes. âWhat?â
âNothing,â You shook your head, but your laugh kept spilling out.Â
âYou obviously find something amusing, Greengrass.â
âYouâre the ones whoâs amusing.â For the first time in a while, you smiled at him, only briefly, but enough to loosen the tense expression on him.Â
âYouâre not making sense.â
âJealousy doesnât suit you, Min Yoongi.â
He scoffed, cheeks slightly rosy from the winter cold in the halls and skin looking even paler than usual with the white backdrop from outside the large windows. His hair was still black, no new colour this time around, slightly longer in the nape of his neck but not much changed.
âWhat makes you think Iâm jealous?â
âThis right now.â You replied simply but decided not to goad him any further. âI guess the engagement is a go?
Yoongi was considering lying, you could see it. The way he didnât reply right away was enough of a sign. âMy parentsâŠhavenât decided if your sister is a good match for me yet.â He admitted slowly. âDue to the dinner during Christmas.â
âShocking.â You were anything but.Â
Your sister might bear the Greengrass and Zabini names, as well as an acceptable desk job at the Ministry, however, she was shallow and childish. Always craving the best, and wanting to appear the best. Traits that people easily looked through within the first few minutes of meeting her, and you doubted the keen eyes of Yoongiâs mother hadnât seen the same.Â
There were negatives to being a pureblood in the presence of other purebloods. It was a competition of judgment and pride. There was never more than trying to see through carefully built walls, being the first one to win.Â
And your family, or sister in this matter had clearly lost with impressing the imposing Min family.Â
Yoongi was saying they were considering it. But you both knew that was just a polite way of saying they had already decided that Isla Zabini Greengrass was not worth of their name.Â
This was also why you assumed he actually gave you time of the day again. There was no impending marriage to your family pinning him down. No way for him to use the excuses he had made to ignore you the past month and a half.Â
âYou must be happy.â
âIt is a relief.â Honesty, wow. Yoongi must really feel bad.
He was tense, ridiculously so, and you almost wanted to torture him a little more. But maybe not today.
âAre you done having your head up your ass now?â
With that single sentence, his shoulders eased. Face falling into a grim line as his head dropped, guilt coating his whole shape and form.Â
âIâm sorry.â
âI know.â
âIâm really sorry, Y/N.â
Your lips twitched, repeating. âI know.â
Yoongi finally looked at you, his eyes were so obviously sad it was almost funny. âYou donât know. I was an asshole to you, just because I was afraid.â
âOut of all people in this castle, Iâm the one who might just understand your situation the most.â
This time it was his turn to smile, although ruefully. âI know. I was stupid not to see it.â
âWhat now then?â
âFriends?â
You laughed, loud and clear, the voice ringing out in the empty corridor leading to the Slytherin common room. It took you a few minutes to calm down enough to not burst into new spurts of laughter.Â
Yoongi remained silent through it all, wincing as your eyes met his with aq raise of your brows, seeing through his bullshit as easy as walking through a ghost.Â
âCut your bollocks and tell me the truth.â
He swallowed.Â
Yoongi obviously didnât want to be friends. Who the fuck stays friends after kissing as they had. After where his hands had touched your body. Seen a side of you no one else had. Fuck no, not a single part of him wanted to remain as just friends.Â
He wanted you, quite frankly. Craved you at this point.Â
But not just your body.Â
He wanted everything that you could offer him. Your very soul if you were willing. He was ready to accept it all.Â
But he couldnât voice it out loud, fearing what he had done was enough to damage to the little bond that managed to sprout between you.Â
âYou need to say it,â You coaxed him firmly. âOr else Iâll walk away.â
Fuck, it was now or never.Â
âCan you give me another chance?â Yoongi searched your expression carefully, but you were tricky witch even to him.Â
âAs friends?â You repeated slowly.Â
âNo, I donât want your friendship,â He managed to sound more firm this time around, seeing the way your eyes widened only the tiniest bit. âI want you, Y/N. Just you. No strange friendship tip-toeing around each other. I want you with me.â Yoongi paused almost nervously, before adding in a low voice. âIf youâll have me.â
You bit back the grin wanting to spread across your face, skin flushing with the words he offered you so sincerely you almost teared up.
âWhat about your marriage?â
He waltzed up to you, inches apart as you stumbled back in surprise, the stone wall luckily meeting you for support. His large hands cupped your cheeks lovingly, eyes crinkling up in the corners as he smiled without abandon, sending your heart thumping happily.Â
âMy parents wanted a Greengrass as a wife.â His thumb brushed over your lower lip as your lips parted, his smile turning into a scheming smirk, muttering against your lips. âWho said they wonât get one?â
You snorted, letting down your guard, hand trailing up his chest and shoulders before wrapping around his neck. âYou are one hell of a Slytherin, Min Yoongi.â
And then you kissed him.Â
The world and its problems could wait.Â
For now, all you wanted was to remain in the arms of the stubborn, prideful man in front of you, kiss him until you both ran out of breath.Â
So this has been in the drafts since 2018. Heh.Â
#bts#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts imagine#min yoongi#yoongi fanfic#yoongi imagine#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#suga#bts suga#bts suga fanfic#hogwarts au#bts hogwarts au#bts au#bangtanfanfiction
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My early socialization experience was weird as hell.
My mother wanted a daughter to treat like a doll with all the extremely gendered nonsense that entails - and was also a second wave radfem and former political lesbian, which...yeah she was half all in on the gendered shit, but also half in weird denial about it. My dad...is the one I got my auDHD from, and the result was that he raised me exactly the same way his parents raised him - which was also very gendered, but he didn't notice that. He didn't notice how differently they treated him and his sister. He just noticed what they did right by him and what he wanted to repeat. He taught me how to use tools and rebuild car engines and be handy and outdoorsy; while my mother was giving me the whole "oh sweetie don't get your dress dirty (: oh yes you should be a #girlboss in STEM but fixing a chair is too dangerous for you to do alone why don't you get your dad to help (: are you suuuuure you can lift that 8-pound object???" thing, my dad was teaching me how to operate a forklift and training me with good lifting technique and encouraging me to haul shit twice my size and letting me learn the kinds of lessons that can only be learned by minor injury. Damned near the only thing he WASN'T doing was the whole "man up" schtick, but even THAT I kinda got a detoxified version of; there was a lot of value placed on keeping my complaints in perspective, building my emotional regulation to the...best of my limited ability, and trying to solve problems independently - again, his WHOLE thing was pretty much just "what would I repeat from what my parents did to me? What would I change?" With absolutely no regard paid to "what was different for my sister? What would have been different if I'd been a girl?" Because he straight up didn't notice that shit.
As a result I fundamentally don't care that he can't quite get gendered terms right for me, because whatever, he's always treated me like just a she/her boy anyway.
Meanwhile, like I said, my mother considered herself a feminist, full on tried to force herself to be a lesbian about it in her 20s, and yet she STILL constantly underestimated my physical strength, treated my appearance like it was the most important thing about me, and kept pushing me to sit down and "be polite" - but she usually didn't SAY these things had anything to do with me being a girl, and in many cases probably didn't even realize they were herself. "Girls can do anything boys can do - but also if you fight back against your [also prepubescent, but male] bullies They Will Kill You To Death They Are Stronger You Cannot Win" was a sentiment I got (in much less clear terms) ALL THE TIME from her through elementary school. She was obsessed with my appearance, in that distinct radfemmy "well sure butches are cool but uh by butch you still mean skinny in form-fitting clothes with a pixie cut, right?" kind of way. She would never say I should dress "more ladylike" and would get angry at family members who WOULD say that out loud - she even introduced me to the concept that crossdressing is fine (sometimes) and that trans men exist (in which she made it clear she thought of us as just weird butch women) - but she would get really, really weird and cruel if I wore jeans she considered "unflattering".
And that's just the thing, about why all flavors of radfems are wrong about how "socialization" does and doesn't impact people! She never tied gender to a good half or so of those messages, so even after I started transitioning, they still felt like they were always aimed at me. Meanwhile, I got the same kind of auDHD from my dad that made him never see the gender of his own upbringing, only "things my parents did that I would repeat vs. things they did that I would not" - I only realized just HOW aggressively gendered my mother's behavior was by studying sociology years later.
Terfs are wrong that early socialization is destiny, everyone responds to the same messages the same way, and GNC "men" are treated wonderfully.
T[i]rfs are wrong that we all ONLY ever internalize messages aimed at our ACTUAL genders and trans men can just shake off misogyny because it's not REALLY aimed at us, regardless of whether that claim stays in the realm of "because WE know deep down that something is off when we're being called the wrong thing" or gets all the way into the batshit belief that everyone has ESP for people's essential soul gender and GNC men ARE treated just fine and it's ONLY eggmode trans women who get mistreated (and they all do regardless of how well they do or don't perform masculinity) and trans men are all totally raised as men and never treated misogynistically in the first place because of that soul gender ESP.
And ALL radfems are wrong that there's a rigid, universally applicable set of rules as to what socialization looks like based on your gender - just because there ARE broad patterns that DO need to be acknowledged doesnt erase the fact that from person to person there's a LOT of variance for a LOT of potential reasons, and that ends up meaning that in order to figure out what it means for trans people, you DO have to do a whole individual level examination - including by diving into the whole dysphoria-inducing disaster that is being perceived as the wrong gender and all that comes from it.
Also I sometimes half-jokingly identify as cis-bigender because between the thing with my parents, the fact that when I hit puberty it became apparent that I'm actually intersex, and the fact that I'm pretty sure I'd have been on the femboy-transfem cusp had I been AMAB, over 10 years into transition I finally feel manly enough to go high femme when the mood strikes, and I've finally gotten comfortable calling myself a girl when it's funny, I think that's a very fun label and about as accurate and honest as any single term comes.
I wish I could frame this ask.
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Manipulating Death: Chapter Twelve
Series Summary: When Harry discovers he has a twin sister that was hiding for years, he wants to know all about her, specially about her ability to bring people back to life.
a/n: yo yo! (Timmy's voice). I know, I know, it's been a rough couple of months since I last posted something but i was just starting college (i passed in one of the top best in my country so I'm really glad), and now that everything's outta the way I can go back to writing so better get used to receive some news from me baby!
Aaand, Ik this one's a little shorter than usual but i just wanted to announce that im back so... yeah
(Also, english isnât my first language so Iâm sorry in advance lol)
Last Chapter | Masterlist
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When summer came and Harry had to go back to Hogwarts and then back to his uncleâs house, Sirius was ready to throw hands.
The remaining marauders grew a very solid anger towards their old headmaster after everything Y/n and Regulus told them about, and were ready to disobey him one more time, however after some long days of talking, they decided to play the game.
If Dumbledore was allowed to lie to them and risk their lives as if they were a bunch of pawns, so could the Order.
So Harry, Hermione and Ron went to Hogwarts to finish their fifth school year, the Potter would write letters to his sister everyday and once every two days theyâd talk through the fireplace.
Heâd tell her how his day was, how he missed the twins fooling around, how Umbridge was such a pink bitch he could throw up; and Y/n would give small hints about how their search for the Horcruxes was going, and the best way to hex his professor without her knowing.
He avoided referring to her as a sister, and just went with âa very dear friendâ, and also never mentioned Dumbledore, just in case he decided to somehow capture Edwiges and read the messages.
But they were so happy being able to talk to each other basically everyday after being almost sixteen years apart.
The boy was happy he, for once, could write home, to someone who was actually interested, some family.
Of course, before, he had Sirius, but the man saw him as a replacement for James, and Harry viewed him the same way; this was different, he didnât saw Y/n as his mother, neither did her.
But it was pretty clear he was jealous whenever someone else interacted with her.
Like this time when Hermione told him she sent a letter to Y/n to ask about some potions and how she was healing, Harry turned red immediately and wondered why she was so worried if she wasnât her sister.
Or whenever they were talking through the fireplace and Regulus would be right beside her in the room.
âItâs likeâ He mumbled, âYou guys have your own families and I donât interfere, let me have mine!â
Speaking about her healing, it took longer than expected, and she hid that from Harry, not wanting the boy to worry over nothing, but Regulus only allowed her to step out of the bedroom when her brother was going back to Petuniaâs house.
âHonestly, I do think I will die here.â She confessed one day when he came in with her meal. âBut of boredom.â
The day Harry had to go back to his uncle's, he decided to see his sister one last time before spending the entire summer without her.
And everyone got a pretty clear view from Harry's jealousy that day.
Remus left the house to receive the golden trio outside, not knowing an exact hour they'd be there, so it was just Regulus and Sirius downstairs and Y/n in her room.
The kids' presence not being exactly announced when they arrived, both Black Brothers thinking she'd be asleep and didn't wanted to bother the poor girl.
Well, they were wrong.
Because her voice came loud and clear, not even a little groggy: "Hey Reggie?"
They perked up at that, the man standing up.
"I'm bored, do you wanna come lay with me so I can play with your hair?"
Their eyes widened, staring at the younger Black in pure shock. He nodded his head at them, as in greeting goodbye and started going upstairs.
Mid-way he started running towards her, knowing she'd probably change her mind if he took too long. "Yes!"
Harry was fuming, as red as Ron's hair.
He busted into his sisterâs room and finding her messing with Regulusâ curls. The boy shooed him away harshly and dropped his own head on her lap, staring at the Black with a cold glare that made Y/n laugh.
After a couple minutes, they decided to hang out with everyone else, and Harry would never leave his sister, following her around like a shadow and even making Regulus jealous, and it was so comic for his brother.
She told Harry things they couldn't talk about through letters, like the possessor's training that Reggie was responsible for, or how the Horcruxes hunt was going in full details.
"That reminds me, I got something for you." Y/n announced before sprinting upstairs, to which Regulus was really unhappy about. But she then came back a few moments later, with an old and messy hairbrush on one hand. "It was our father's, it's the only thing I have from him and I want you to have it."
"Are you sure?" He reluctantly asked, holding it as if it could break and disappear if he as much breathed on it. But Y/n shook her head yes with a huge smile.
"Consider it an early birthday gift."
The boy felt his eyes watering, sucking in a hiccup and holding the Potter in a tight hug that almost made him cry his eyes out.
Throughout the rest of the year, Harry would look at the hairbrush almost as if he was begging for his dad's guidance. He felt back on his third year, standing by the lake, with Sirius and his own image passing out on the other side, waiting for his dad to come and save the day.
Except that right now, he knew it was basically his own mind giving him advice. The boy was desesperately trying not to get his hopes high that Y/n could bring them back to life.
She sure was powerful, but after her death she appeared to get weaker and weaker by the day.
He'd get letters from Remus or one of the Black brothers saying she was too sick to write, that they'd keep him uptaded on any important news.
But how could Harry stay fucking calm? Deep down, he felt lied to. He had no reason to suspect his godfather or his sistser's godfather, but Merlin there was something wrong.
And he was right.
Because a week after he arrived at the Dursley's, Regulus Black woke up to an empty bed except for himself.
Calling out her name, no answer.
The basement just as empty as the bed.
Sirius and Remus? Clueless.
Kreacher? Obliviated.
Y/n Potter was, once again, missing.
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Next Chapter
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#harry potter#regulus black#harry potter fanfiction#sirius black#remus lupin#black brothers#albus dumbledore#dumbledore#order of the phoenix#james potter#manipulating death series#regulus black x reader#marauders era#the marauders#marauders#dead gay wizards#peter pettigrew
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Rose and Armitage took the submerged holodisc to the academy commons, where they found the tools needed to clean it. According to the logo on it, the disc had been submerged in the pond ever since the time of the empire. At best that had been forty years, at worst sixty.
Slowly the holo loaded...
Hologram: "I am Captain Maratelle Pencroft of the Alliance for the Restoration of the Republic. Those who view this will know me under a different name, of course. It is you I'm recording this holo for, not some faceless future generation historian. Therefore I'm going to program this message to react to certain keyphrases, accusations and questions you probably want to toss at me now. Shoot!"
Rose: "The name rings a bell... distantly."
Armitage: "Maratelle Hux was my fathers wife. We were told she got left behind during the chaos when Arkanis got attacked by the rebels, that's why I had always pictured her as a helpless housewife. Now it looks like she defected, and everyone covered that up."
Rose: "I guess... if she'd been an evil stepmom, you'd remember her. So she was more on the neglectful side?"
Armitage: "Looks like it. I wonder... It may be worth a shot..."
Armitage: "Armitage Hux. Parentage."
Maratelle: "Keyphrase recognized. Begin playback."
Maratelle: "Armitage... I know of you. Can't say I know you, because of a dirty trick the empire played on both of us. For the longest time I was under the impression that you were the result of an affair of my husband's from shortly before I married him. I want to think that I'll get a chance to make up for me having avoided you for five years and that we are watching this together. But what are the chances?
In any case, if you asked this particular question, you must already have suspected that Brenny is not your father. Your birth mother is a technician, very young, but very talented. She's in charge of the acdemy's droids. One day a boy her own age came to the academy looking for work. His name was Dathan, he was distressed, maybe on the run from the law. Him and your mother fell in love, or maybe it was only natural that a kitchen scullion and a repair girl of the same generation would dally around, in any case their relationship resulted in your birth. Soon afterwards Dathan ran away, and my husband started pretending that he was your sire. I cannot imagine why Brendol would cover for this perfect stranger, especially since at times it put a lot of strain on our marriage. Maybe some day we'll learn."
When no more questions got asked in the following silence, the hologram booted down. A name stood in the room: Dathan. To Maratelle is had been just two meaningless syllables, but Rose and Armitage had heard it before. A Dathan who had reason to not stay in the same place for too long, who would have been of the correct age in 4 or 5 ABY and who carried Palpatine's blood...
Eventually Rose cleared her throat and spoke up.
Rose: "Lies upon lies upon half-truths and vital information withheld. That's how Palpatine kept his power over people. Pryde... Maratelle... Brendol... and you. But that's going to end! By my hand and yours and by..."
Armitage: "Can we maybe not speak it out loud?"
Rose: "...your sister's. What's so bad about Rey being your little sis? She's great!"
Armitage: "Because that makes Kylo Ren my brother in law!"
---
Note: I toyed with this idea for a different fic, but decided to use it here when the Reaper's Rewards event started. It's not a headcanon that would remain constant between all my stories.
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The past is a very determined ghost, haunting every chance it gets.
It was incredible how much a quote could define a single manâs life. If there was something CM Punk tried to keep private, that was the state of his family. And the keyword was tried, since everything that happened between him and the rest of his blood relatives was public knowledge. What was unknown to the rest of the world was right in front of him, on his phone: a text message from his brother. Yeah, his brother Mike, also known as CM Venom. That ring name was so accurate, because that person was nothing but toxic to him. Suddenly, Philâs mind began to travel back in time: early 2000, the two of them were a Tag Team, the Chick Magnets. Two young and naive boys from Chicago, ready to step into the wrestling world and conquer it, together. Until... that together revealed itself to be nothing but an illusion. Mike decided to steal money from the company they were working for. Needless to say, that act full of cowardice destroyed the relationship between the two brothers. The last words Phil said to Mike were something along the lines of âI donât wanna see your stupid ass face ever again for the rest of my lifeâ. And now, 20+ years later, the former AEW World Champion was still dealing with the emotional pain that story caused him; to put it bluntly, reading that message brought back bad memories. How was it possible though? Many years had passed, the Second City Saint moved forward into the life he had always dreamed, so why? Why did he want to scream in nothing but pure rage against the display? The more he read those texts, the faster his heart was beating. Hey Itâs me, Mike I see youâve been going through a lot lately Can we talk? The only family member Phil loved with all his heart was his little sister. His father? He was dead to him. His mother? He got a restraining order against her a few years ago. His brother? The biggest piece of garbage in this world. Family... such a beautiful concept to a normal person, but such a shitty concept to him. Punkâs arm was shaking, his body language didnât lie: he was nervous, to say the least. Many doubts were invading his mind, should he answer? Did that guy really deserve it? Phil tried to consider every single option in the shortest possible amount of time, but that only ended up confusing him even more. Until he couldnât take it anymore, all the negative emotions were taking over, they were bursting out all of a sudden. The Chicagoan let out a scream, it was full of rage, anger, bitterness, but also lot of sadness was into the mix. Phil wasnât thinking straight in this moment, and that absence of control became clear as day when he thre the phone against the wall, using all the strenght he had in his body. The impact between the phone and the wall made a loud noise and managed to create a crack on the screen, a very visible one. Phil acted out of instinct, but there wasnât the slightest sign of regret on his face, and what he said later was a clear indicator of his decision. âGo to hell.â Was this story going to become public because of that piece of shit of his brother? If not, was Phil going to share this with someone? Perhaps someone he trusted with his own life? Even he didnât know: the only thing he was sure of is that he needed to regain his composure.
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The Dark Prophecy rants (part 2): Georgina and Apollo
As stated prior, I had read the Dark Prophecy before, back in 2017 when it was released, and every year I would get the new book and convince myself that it would confirm or deny whether Georgina was actually Apollo's bio daughter, and every year I'd get dissappointed. It got to the point that I went to the virtual Tower of Nero tour back in 2020 and my book was backordered so I hadn't read it yet, but gaslight myself into believing that TON would state it so hard that I decided not to ask Rick Riordan though I really really wanted to. (Yes, I did scream out loud a week later when I read it and the ONLY SCENE WAS GEORGIE ASKING ABOUT HER DOLL AND APOLLO LOST IT)
Somehow, gaslighting myself runs deep because I gaslit myself that I just misremembered The Dark Prophecy and Georgie's parentage would be in the book. Which is why I waited until I finished to make this post, even though I think I knew deep down Georgie's godly parentage was not confirmed. Spoiler alert, it was not. In fact, Trophonius specifically said he wouldn't tell Apollo so he suffered and I screamed. Uhg! I think I suffered more than Apollo!
And okay, I understand Rick's message being that Georgie has parents; Jo and Emmie. And Jo and Emmie are her real parents. But what 13 yo me (and me now) is most interested in is godly powers. Whether Georgie is Apollo's bio kid or not changes everything about whether or not the allure of the Cave has to do with her godly parentage, and whether or not her visions are the power of prophesy. Because if it is, that has the implications that Georgie could suffer a similar fate to Hal Green if she uses this power.
Over the last 7 years, I've bounced off a lot of theories of Georgie's godly parentage, and so I'm going to share them now. I'm going to split them into 2 categories: Category 1: Georgie is related to Apollo, and Category 2, She's not.
Category 1:
1) Georgie doesn't look like her bio mortal parent, nor is she from Indianapolis originally
Apollo, though I think it pains him to admit this, remembers his children through their mortal parents. He's an absentee father, so he doesn't know much about his kids, but he does know about his partners. We see this in how we first meet all his kids: Will is compared to Naomi, Kayla to Darren, Austin to Latricia, and Trophonius to his own mother. He tries to think of if he was in Indianapolis 8 years earlier, and with whom and falls short. And in Tower of Nero, to my memory (about to gaslight myself for 3 more books that I remembered TON wrong) he never mentions remembering again when he becomes a god. If Agamethus found her somewhere else and brought her to Waystation, it would make sense why Lester wouldn't make the connection. As for why Apollo doesn't mention it when becoming a god again and being the GOD OF KNOWLEDGE HE SHOULD KNOW THESE THINGS NOW I don't know, and it irks my soul.
2) Georgie is the daughter of Apollo's Roman aspect
This theory is my favorite, especially since it makes the most sense with the Roman emperor plotline, and since Apollo's memories seem to be mostly greek, why he wouldn't be able to remember Georgie or her bio mortal parent. It also could explain why Apollo doesn't mention anything in Tower of Nero. Of course, we know very little about how different Apollo's greek and roman aspects are in the series, especially since he's the only god who has the same name, but I'm sure there's some differences.
Category 2:
1) Georgie is a clear-sighted mortal and destined to be an Oracle
This theory of mine relates Georgie to Rachel Dare and May Castellan. In the same way that they were having visions about being the Oracle of Delphi, Georgie was having visions of the Cave. Georgie is Trophonius' little sister in the metaphorical sense, as she is destined to rule an Oracle like he did. Of course, in the case of May, Hades' curse sent her mad, but it is heavily implied that she was supposed to be the Oracle of her generation. It seems to me that each generation has one clear sighted mortal to become the Oracle of Delphi, so it's possible that Georgie is the oracle post-Rachel in this theory. I'm not sure how far apart in age the oracles are meant to be, but it's always a possibility. Or, like the Oracle of Delphi, the Dark Oracle has chosen mortals to take it on, but since Trophonius has been trapped doing it for a millenia or more, those mortals never get the chance to, like May, and go mad. And with the dissolving of the Oracle, Georgie is no longer destined to that awful fate.
2) Georgie's connection to Agamethus is what drives her. She's either a clear sighted mortal, or a demigod of another parentage.
Trophonius, in this theory, views Georgie as a little sister because Agamethus views Georgie as a little sister. Agamethus is the one who found her, so it makes sense that he has some form of kinship to her, and therefore his brother does too. And because Trophonius has taking a liking to her, he's sent her visions. In this theory, Georgie's bio parents could be literally anyone. She could be a demigod, a legacy, or a mortal.
3) Georgie's a legacy of Apollo (Greek or Roman, doesn't make a difference)
To be honest, I wasn't sure which category this fell into, but I chose this one because she's not specifically Apollo's daughter. The sister is metaphorical in this sense too. Legacy's can sometimes inherit powers (as seen in the Zhang family, as well as if one believes Octavian has some prophetic powers) so it would be there that Georgie's interest in the Cave starts. Also, would explain why Apollo doesn't remember her, because she's his kid's kid, or even more generations than that (though if I had to guess, if this theory were true, I'd say no more than great-grandkid)
So, those are my theories! Yes, I think about Georgie way more than I should over the last seven years, but I digress. I just want to know about if she has powers, and what Cabin she'd be at CHB if she went, so I can write cool canon-compliant fics about her!
If you've read my Solangelo fic "Surprise!" on ao3, in Chapter 8, "Leo and Calypso's Garage: Auto Repair and Mechanical Monsters" you'd notice that I did write Georgie, who's seventeen in that fic, as having clairvoyance, as seen when she knows Lena Valdez (Leo's adopted daughter) is going to come into the garage where her and Harley are fixing Harley's car (he and Georgie are best friends, and no one can change my mind). Obviously, I thought a lot about it beforehand, but decided that I would make her a bio Apollo kid for that fic, though whether she's Greek or Roman is up in the air. Though, even if she were Roman, I do not think she'd join the legion. Jo and Emmie would be very much against that, I think. As for Camp Half-Blood, if she were a demigod, I think they'd be very skeptical, but would let her go for the summer because she'd beg after hearing Leo and Harley's (my hc is that Harley lives in Waystation which is why he's not a year rounder in TSATS, if you want more on this theory, I'll elaborate later.) stories about camp. At least, unlike Camp Jupiter, she wouldn't have to stay year round till her legionare years are up.
In conclusion, Rick Riordan, confirm Georgie's bio parentage, and give her a list of powers and a CHB cabin, and my life is yours. I've been thinking about this nonstop for 7 years, I know Trophonius was trying to hurt Apollo, but he ended up causing me multiple sleepness nights instead.
#georgina (percy jackson)#the trials of apollo#the dark prophecy#georgina's bio parentage#theories#lots of theories#I've been thinking nonstop about this for over seven years#I've also gaslit myself multiple times over this#am i the only one?#Like I'm happy that Georgie has a loving family and doesn't feel the need to know about her bio parents#BUT HER POWERS#Also Halycon Green?#I might have to write another essay on comparing Georgie to Hal#Also expand on the Georgie Rachel and May parallels#i probably need help#trials of apollo#toa apollo#apollo (percy jackson)#apollo
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My mom constantly poked and prodded and joked about if I would take care of her when she got old or if she got Alzheimerâs disease. I never really answered until one night at the dinner table she asked again, and I looked at her and said,â youâll never knowâ. Which became a family joke. Sheâll never know if sheâs taken care of because she wonât remember. Ha ha ha.
The truth is I didnât want to take care of her. By twelve I already resented that I was taking care of everything around the house. I felt more like a servant than a child. I remember being so upset the day before I was supposed to have surgery and I was so sick and had a fever, and still she was ordering me around and having me do every chore she could think of because I wouldnât be able to for at least a week after, until I passed out and crumpled to the floor.
I remember hating the sound of my own name as she called for me to do something for her every twenty minutes. I remember my friends feeling sorry for me and trying to help so that she would leave me alone.
I remember my childhood being stolen. I remember birthdays being forbidden. I remember taking care of her and having large gaps between jobs for her. I remember trying to reach out for help and people telling me I had to be patient and be the better person. I remember showing people the bruises from when I didnât do something right and hearing about how I needed to forgive. I remember having no semblance of a life until I finally had enough and packed up my car and left and didnât go back.
I remember her begging me to move back in. I remember my dad telling me how much worse sheâd gotten. I remember my sister telling me I needed to step up and help with mom because dad couldnât do it on his own. I remember no one ever told mom I had moved across the country because she couldnât understand but she wouldnât stop asking for me.
I remember going to visit and seeing her shriveled up on the nursing room bed. I remember her hands twisted and clenched hard. I remember her foot shaking, hitting the wall. I remember the whining moan she wouldnât stop making. I remember her mouth was full of something black and sticky. I remember that when dad tried to get her to stop moaning and tried to clear out her mouth she yelled at him to stop or she would smack him. I remember telling her goodbye and she said, âwhat?â And I explained that I was leaving, that I was telling her goodbye. That was the only thing she said to me, and that was the last time she ever spoke.
I didnât know she was that bad, everyone told me she was doing pretty good and although she didnât remember things she still talked, she was still mom. That shriveled pathetic creature was not my mother and did not deserve to live like that.
The next day I went back to the nursing home with my brother who hadnât seen her in almost a year. I remember he cried. She laid curled up just moaning. Moan after moan after moan. It was the worst thing Iâve ever heard. He played an Elvis song on his phone, trying to get any response from her. He yelled at her nurses that this was violating her living will. That she never wanted to live like that. I held his phone close to her ear and cried as Elvis sang about a god I no longer believed in. Mom just kept moaning.
A week later, back a thousand miles away while I was at work my phone buzzed with a text message. I didnât have to read it. A wave of peace and happiness washed over me. Later I cried.
I wrote a poem full of lies and read it out loud at the funeral. It made everyone cry. I didnât feel anything.
She wanted me to take care of her.
I wanted a mother.
We both lost.
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His Second Option(Part 2 of 8)
Ship: Eris x reader
Warning: Angst and Fluff towards the end?
Summary: When Azriel visits you at your wedding, would you choose him or the high lord of the Autumn Court?
Read Part 1:
A/N: 2 Posts in a day. Wow.
Months had passed since the Winterâs Solstice. My mind had long forgotten about the dreadful rejection as I focused on plans. First, to kill Beron with Eris, next coronation and wedding plans. Despite Beronâs protest, we added the inner circle to the guest list, Azriel with them.
After Beronâs fall the lady of Autumn had moved between the Day Court and the Autumn court, It was soon revealed that Lucien, Erisâs youngest brother was Helionâs sole heir. For now. Eris was happy for his mother and by extension, so was I.
My sisters visited occasionally, Nesta telling me about how Elain had called off the engagement as soon as she realised how Azriel had broken my heart. Now giving Lucien a chance. Rhysand had spoken to Azriel, but nothing. Azriel regretted nothing giving excuses like: âSheâs not soft spoken like Elainâ or âsheâs just not thereâ.
At first it hurt to hear the reasons when Feyre showed me the memories but then I remembered the male that was going to be on the Autumn Courtâs throne, how he loved me when my mate didnât. He had proved it multiple times through the months. Whether it was by lying with me after a long day or comforting and letting me sob and cry against him when the feeling got too much, when all I could ask myself was why my own mate could not love me. Wondering if I was good enough for anyone.
I had moved on. Slowly maybe, but I had mended my broken heart and I had made a new one, giving it to the man I was about to marry. Not because of his power but because he had waited for me, maybe months wasnât long for someone immortal like me but he had waited. As I had cried once the pain hit me, had picked up the pieces for me despite the pain he had experienced watching cry over someone else. He loved me through everything.
Looking in the mirror I jumped as I saw a shadow behind me, itâs hazel eyes gleaming as the male prowled towards me. Sitting up straighter I held his stare as his face hardened. âAzriel,â I greeted, wiling my tone to be icy and cold. âDonât marry him.â His voice was barely above a whisper, sounding like he was pleading, begging almost, âI made a mistake,â he continued, âElain realised that she preferred to be with Lucien, her mate and now, please donât marry Eris,â his face softened. Hearing those words from his mouth, my blood boiled in my veins as I demanded harshly, âWhy?â âYou know why,â He replied, opening his scarred palms towards me, an offer.
âNo,â I rejected, showing his hand away, he shot me a look of pure confusion.
âNo. you donât get to do this to me, Azriel. Not when I spent years loving you, months knowing I am your mate only for you to break my heart! I will not be the female you settle for because you canât have Elain!â I snapped at him. His face fell as if something had hit him like a ton of bricks. âY/N/N please I-,â âDonât call me that,â I hissed, interrupting him as he tried to ask again, dared to try and take a step towards me, âI will say it again, I will not be your second option because you canât have Elain because she chose someone else. Because if I were to go home with you, what if another female comes along who is better them me. What then? Will you dump me on the side of the road? Pick me up when you need me again? I will never give you another chance,â My tone was firm as I pointed at the door of the room, the message was loud and clear.
Just as Azriel looked as if he wanted to say something again, Feyre, cauldron bless her, came bustling in with Nesta both looking like angels. I had chosen an Autumn themed Wedding (obviously) however, contrasting to the bright red flowers some of the brideâs maids dresses were a lilac colour making Feyre and Nesta look gorgeous. Feyre instantly sent Azriel out before ensuring that I was alright and doing some final checks on my makeup and such. Rhys was at the door trying his best to keep anyone else from getting in after what happened with Azriel. After a few deep breathes, I felt calm again and it was time for the ceremony, my heart fluttered as I finally realised, I was about to marry the love of my life whether or not he was my mate.
As the music began, Feyre walked down the aisle, for once Rhys had finally relented that she wold not wear a crown to the ceremony, Nesta went next and as I finally began walking down the aisle I took down the sight of the small crowd. Eris had invited his mother and his brothers along with HĂ©lion as a thank you for taking care of his mother. Azriel was no where to be seen as I finally spotted Eris and the world slowed. Eris was dressed in a simple two-pieced suit with a red tie. As he spotted me his eyes bleeped with pride. I had adorned a wedding dress with a sweetheart neckline while my bodice was highlighted with a corset that came out into a royal length skirt.
When I finally reached the dias the priestess begun. As it finally reached the vows, Eris was first, âY/N Arcelia Archeron. Did you know that your middle name means treasure? It is a wonder that I managed to catch you from the vast sea when you honestly could have any male you want. I admire your resilience, you everlasting kindness because as those make you. You, Y/N, are my greatest treasure among all the troves in the Autumn Court. I love you and I promise through everything, always for a thousand years and more. I vow to protect and provide for you for the rest of our immortal lives,â
Tears slipped out of my eyes as I gazed into the eyes of the male I loved. Swallowing, I started my own vows, âEris Vanserra, I cannot say how much I love you. Words you do me no justice, I love you for your patience, your love for me. Why? I know you waited for me through my pain you loved me through it all. I vow to reign the Autumn Court with you, I will piss you off and annoy you for the rest of eternity because we have that together, to whatever end,â Eris looked like he was about to cry but was trying not to. Emphasis on trying.
The priestess, to her credit, kept her composure as she proceeded to complete the ceremony, âIf anyone has any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace,â Silence. One second, another, and as the priestess was about to speak once more, a voice rang out, clear as day as the owner of the voice stood.
âI object!â
Part 3 is out now!
#azriel angst#eris vanserra#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra x oc#eris vanserra fluff#acotar#acotar fandom#acofas#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader
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imagine fez calling lexi âbabyâ or like âyeah sheâs my girlâ I CAN ONLY DREAM
Lexi's fingers were tapping an inconsistent rhythm on the kitchen counter, nervously counting every tap in her mind as she pulled out her phone once again, anxiously waiting for a message to pop up. She could feel her mother's curious yet hazy gaze on her, observing her from the couch that she was cuddled up on. The wine glass in her hand was running dry once again, and after a few silent minutes she got up from the couch, made her way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "So..." Suze pondered out loud, staring into the fridge like she was having trouble locating the wine bottle - as if. "Who's the guy?" Lexi jumped at the words, turning around to see her mother already waiting for her, her expression amused as she set down her glass to pour more wine. Lexi cleared her throat, nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of her turtleneck, a smile tugging at her lips. "What?" "Don't play coy, Lex," her mother teased, winking as she took a sip. "I know that look you have on right now. Your sister has it every week." Lexi rolled her eyes at the comparison, actively avoiding eye contact with her inebriated mother. There was a knowing spark in the older woman's eyes, like she knew more than she let on - something sharp in the way she smiled on even though she knew her daughter was keeping a secret. And for a moment Lexi felt completely cornered right then and there - until her phone buzzed, alerting her to grab it before her mother could catch a glimpse of the text message splayed across her screen. fez just pulled up Lexi coming "I gotta go, mom," Lexi exhaled, feeling like she had just been saved by the bell. She grabbed her bag from the counter, throwing it over her shoulder. She pressed a hasty kiss on her mother's warm cheek and flashed a coy smile at her. "I'll be home by 11, promise." And with that, she was gone. Slipping out of the kitchen on soapy heels, rushing through the house to get to the door. And just as she opened it, she heard her mother calling out: "Do I at least get to meet him soon?" The air outside was warm, the air still vibrating with the thunderstorm that had rolled over their town the night before. Lexi pulled her front door shut behind her before daring to look up - her heart jumped in a cartwheel when she did. Fez's car was parked by the curb and he was standing by it, leaning against the passenger's side door with an effortless confidence that somehow made him seem ridiculously attractive. There was a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his ring-clad fingers, a bright smile climbing on his face when his eyes set on Lexi. And for a moment Lexi felt like her heart would jump out, right up her throat and out her mouth. She felt her own legs moving, the driveway moving fast under her steps as she hurried to get rid of the distance between herself and Fez. Fezco's right hand made its way to Lexi's lower back, pulling the girl into a kiss that made her heart leap in all possible directions. Their bodies pressed together for a passing moment as they kissed, and Fezco's voice was rough when he murmured against her lips: "Hey, baby." Fuck, Lexi could almost feel her legs letting out from right underneath her when she heard his voice, his cool breath sending shivers down her spine. They pulled away a few inches, Lexi's face burning red. "Hi." "Yo, I think your mom at the window or sum'," Fez said with a grin, nodding towards the windows facing the front yard. And truly, Lexi's mother was standing at the window, peeking through the half-drawn curtain like she was trying to be subtle - and failing miserably at it. Lexi rolled her eyes, not even bothering to turn around to confirm Fezco's words. She shook her head with a slightly embarrassed smile. "She's so fucking curious, it's exhausting." "Can't blame her, y'know," Fezco said, his fingers drawing absent-minded patterns onto Lexi's back, making her shiver yet again. He pressed a brief kiss on the girl's mouth, grinning against her lips. "All she know, you could be dating a drug dealer."
"Very funny."
"I'm just playin', Lex." Fez pressed another lingering kiss on her mouth.
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Snippets from stories I will never finish writing part one
Stiles stumbled through the trees into a small open clearing, a bottle of cheap wine clamped tightly in his hand as he swayed to phantom music. He sloppily waltzed by himself, spinning in half circles and giggling when he tripped. A twig snapping caught his attention, and he turned to face the opposite end of the clearing, a large, sarcastic smile forming on his lips.
"Oh, look who it is. The husband-to-be!" He stretched his arms wide as he called into the quiet forest air, head tilted back as if he were celebrated.
"Stiles, please." Derek looked tired and exasperated. It both irritated and irked Stiles to see.
"Coming to let his mistress off the hook. Two years down the drain all for some bitch he just met!" He jostled the bottle of wine, spilling it before taking a large gulp. He wiped his chin and almost fell over a jagged stump before catching himself on a tree.
"Stiles, you're being a child." Derek was using that voice he'd used to talk to Stiles in before they'd started dating or whatever. It pissed Stiles off.
"Of course I am! That's all I'll ever be to you, right? Unless you want sex, of course. Then I'm old enough to make my own choices."
"Stiles," Derek's voice was a little more firm now like he was going to get Stiles in trouble. Stiles hated it.
"Did you even tell them? Huh! I know the rules, Derek. I know these arrangements can be void if you've already found someone else! So did you tell them?!"
The silence that followed broke Stiles's heart and fueled his ever-growing rage at the man in front of him.
"I'm so fucking stupid!" Stiles let go of the wine bottle, sending it flying toward the trees, shattering.
"Stiles," Derek now sounded more concerned and panicked. Stiles couldn't believe how good Derek was getting with emotions.
"No! Of course, you didn't tell them. You're too big a fucking coward!"
"Stiles!" Angry this time.
"Stiles! Stiles! Stiles! What Derek? Is that all you can say! After two years of leading me on, letting me believe I meant at least a little bit to you, that's all you have to say!"
"No! I- Stiles, I can't, I don't want-" Derek looked flustered, angry, and utterly exhausted. Stiles probably would have been worried if he'd been sober enough to feel more than one emotion at a time.
"What? What! You don't want what? For them to know about me? That I'm a guy? That I'm your baby sister's age? That you love me? Or, maybe not that last bit because that was a clear fucking lie on your part!"
"I wasn't lying!" Derek shouted.
"Really? Because it sure as hell feels like it!" Stiles couldn't stop his voice from cracking as he started to cry. He hadn't let himself cry over this yet. Crying made it too real. It must be real now.
"Stiles," Derek seemed to want to cry, too. He was always better and holding himself together, though.
"Why did you come here, Derek? If it was to formally end things, then don't bother. I got the message loud and clear! In fact, half of Beacon Hills found out with me when your mother announced it to the ENTIER INNER CIRCLE!" Stiles tried to catch his breath, but it was trapped in the back of his throat. His hands started shaking.
"I was going to tell you. I didn't know she was going to do that. I hadn't even excepted the proposal yet." Derek stupidly thought this bit of information would help calm Stiles down. He was wrong.
"You should have told me when I asked the first time! You lied to me, Derek. You told me she wasn't here for you and that I had nothing to worry about. You fucking lied! About everything!"
"Not everything! Stiles, I meant every word I said to you. I never lied about any of that. I love you. I would never lie about that." Derek tried to move forward, but Stiles quickly stepped back. There was no way he was going to let Derek touch him. He knew he'd give in, and Stiles couldn't do that.
"But. You would never lie about that, but. You did, Derek. You lied. You told me you loved me straight to my face and made me believe it!" Derek reached for him again, but Stiles slapped his hand away, anger burning in his eyes.
"No! Do not touch me! Don't come near me! If you aren't going to say it, fine, I will. This is over! Don't call me, don't text me, don't ask about me! Just leave me the hell alone, Derek!" Stiles was full-on sobbing now, his whole body shaking with their force.
"If you care about me, even a little bit, you will stay away. Forever. Please." Stiles pleaded.
It's silent. Derek stares at Stiles like he's waiting for him to take it back. Stiles doesn't.
"If that's what you want." It was over. Derek wasn't even fighting him. It shocked him so much he'd even stopped crying.
"It will never be what I want. It's just the only choice you've given me." If Derek was going to hurt him, Stiles would give him the same hurt in return. So this was all Derek's fault.
"Goodbye, Stiles." Derek turned and, within seconds, disappeared into the trees.
Stiles gave it almost a full minute before he collapsed onto the ground. He curled his knees to his chest and subtly rocked himself in a poor attempt to self-soothe. His chest and back ached, and his neck felt tight with the strain of crying. His head felt ready to explode, and he couldn't breathe.
The last thought Stiles had before he passed out against a tree was how pathetic it was to die, crying in the middle of the woods due to heartbreak.
#teen wolf#stiles stilinski#derek hale#derek x stiles#stiles x derek#sterek#sterek fanfiction#sterek au#sterek fics#sterek ficlet
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Notice me!
(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it1
Summary: Teenagers at JJ's daughter's school get attacked. Does she fit the victomology?
Warnings: feeling uncared for
Wordcount: 2.7k
âšMasterlistâš ___________________________________
âGood morning, my lovelies. The good news: The case is local. The bad news: Somebody is attacking teenage girls from the same high schoolâ, Penelope starts the briefing, dressed in a bright pink dress with matching accessories.
âAre they from the same class? Age?â Hotch asks, looking over the file. Upon opening her own, JJ feels like her heart stops. âNegative, the three girls are from different years even. The only connection is the school.â âItâs (Y/N)âs school. She-she is a Junior there. I-Hotch?â Desperately she looks at her boss.
The teamâs eyes soften. Itâs already difficult with minors involved, but when it gets personal the case is a thousand times harder.
âCall her and tell her we get her to answer a few questions. At this point we can be sure itâs someone from the staff or a student. Time is the essence. Reid and JJ, you get (Y/N). Morgan and Prentiss, you question the first two. Dave and I take the last one and then go to the crime scenes. Garcia, I want you to find out anything about the victims and their families. Check their social media sites and look out for anything that connects themâ, the Unit Chiefs orders.
Everybody gets up immediately. JJ has her phone already at hand. The longer it takes her daughter to take the call, the more nervous she gets.
âMom? Did something happen? You know exactly Iâm at school. I donât wanna get in-â âHoney, Uncle Spence and I come to get you. There is something we have to question you about.â The teenager is silent for a moment. âItâs about the girls that got beaten up, isnât it?â
Her mother sighs. Of course nothing like that stays quiet for long. âYes, it is.â JJ doesnât see the point in lying to her. âOk. Uhm, can you just question me at school? I really donât wanna leave, because I have soccer practice after school for the game this evening.â
A little light blinks at that in JJâs mind. âIsnât it that important game, where scouts are coming?â (Y/N) begins to smile. Her mother remembers it. Maybe she does pay attention to her. Maybe, just maybe, she pays enough to come and see her. After all she even took a day off for Henryâs recital last time.
âYes, you said you will come and cheer for me.â JJâs heart aches. She knows that her oldest often backs down due to her motherâs job. More often than the blonde agent likes to admit she has stood her daughter up to save someoneâs life. âI try to be there in time, Honey. I canât promise you anything, though. Just let us hope we solve this case quickly, ok?â
(Y/N)âs shoulders drop. Of course, how could she be this naive to think her mother cares enough to at least try to make it to her probably most important game? âAlright. Text me when you are here or just get me excused at the secretary's office. Bye.â
JJ looks at her phone in puzzlement. The teenager always is understanding of her job and the sacrifices it takes. One night under a lot of tears she confessed to her mother that everytime she is away on a case, she is in the greatest state of worry. Will reported repeatedly that (Y/N) is miserable whenever her mother isnât at home.
So she told her daughter about the pact she made with her sister. Any time they miss each other, they go out and look at the moon, knowing that they see the same. JJ also admitted that she and Henry are the reason she is even working as a profiler. The agent wants to make the world safer for her kids. A safe space, where they can grow up and go to the park without worrying about Stranger Danger or anything else.
âIs everything ok?â Spencer asks as he sees his best friend frozen on the spot. JJ looks up to him, spotting concern in his eyes. âYeah, no. I donât know? Itâs just, (Y/N) has an important soccer game tonight with scouts coming and such and Iâm not sure if I can get there in time because of the case. She sounded really sad when I told her that. You know, Iâm incredibly proud of her for getting this far and she plays really well. Scratch that, she is amazing. Especially knowing (Y/N) is responsible enough to think about college in her junior year makes me swell with prideâ, she gushes unknowingly.
Spencer smiles. âI see, she is just like her mother. Iâm sure (Y/N) will come around, she loves you so much and knows how difficult our job is.â JJ nods, trying to believe him.
Not long after that the duo enters the secretaryâs office, explaining the situation. He immediately notifies the teenagerâs teacher and a few minutes later (Y/N) opens the door. âThere is an empty classroom we can use, I already asked Mr Boyle. He is such a sweetheartâ, she tells her mother and uncle.
âThank you for consenting to answer our questions. (Y/N), do you know the girls?â Spencer begins after settling down. âI do. One of them, Amy, is on the soccer team with me. We mostly talk about her family. She is in love with her little sister. The other two, Rosa and Gina, are in Freshmen. I tutored Gina briefly until her mother said she doesnât need it.â
Unfortunately (Y/N) isnât able to tell more useful information. âThank you so much, Honey. Have fun at your practice laterâ, JJ tells her while embracing the teenager. âYeah, thanks. Do you come home tonight?â Her mother sighs.
âI get it, you donât know. Ok, I donât wanna interfere any longer. Maybe you are able to solve the case faster. Stay safe. Love you!â Quickly she picks her bag up and leaves the room.
JJ looks at the genius with a face that says âDo you know what I mean?â
âMy lovelies, all three girls donât have the best connection to their parents. They often complain about the missing approval. Do you think that itâs a kid from their classes?â Garcia informs them as the team gathers back around the round table.
Rossi shakes his head. âThe crimes are too organized for a kid. Every girl was drugged, but we donât know how. Then the UnSub waits for the drug to kick in and takes her to a vacant spot, where the beating occurs. And all of this happens right after classes end. It has to be a staff member, probably a teacher.â
âYeah, but there is one detail that doesnât sit right with meâ, Derek pipes up, âThe connection between the girls is the bad relationship with their parents. It has to be someone, who is reminded by their own dysfunctional family.â
âGarcia, look for someone from the area, his comfort zone shows that he knows remote areas that you donât find by accident. He has to be from D.C.â Spencer instructs her.
âOkidoki, boy won- Wait, are we looking for a male?â Hotch nods. âWe are, the amount of strength used to beat up the girls suggests a male, same with the amount of hatred.â
Emily looks unsure. âThis sounds all right, but why is he choosing the girls? What does he relive by hurting them? How does it help him?â
JJ wants to partake in the mindstorming, but a ping from her phone distracts her from saying her thoughts out loud. Itâs a text message from (Y/N)
If you find the time in your busy schedule to read this, be informed that Will and Henry wonât come to the game tonight, because Henry has a spontaneous playdate. Donât worry, he brought me my inhaler to school already.
(Y/N) sighs after sending the text. Is it really too much work for her mother to make room for her? This is probably the most important event in her whole school carriere and she decides that a team of masterminds need her more than her own daughter.
Hurt by the clear ignorance she shoulders her bag and makes her way to the counselorâs office.
âCome inâ, a warm voice invites the teenager after her knocking on the door. âHey, Mr Pembroke. Uhm, I have a class before soccer practice and I wanted to ask you if I can put my bag here? I know I got a locker, but I still got my momâs birthday present in there and Iâm scared Iâll leave it in my classroom and have to run back to get the bag if not another kid already took it away.â
Mr Pembroke looks at her with a smile. âOf course, (Y/N), I donât mind. Speaking of your mother, will she be there tonight? I really hope so, because you are a star on the field. Sheâs missing out otherwise.â At the end he winks. He is just that kind of guy. Working with kids makes him desperate for appearing younger than he really is, but that is also part of Keith Pembrokeâs charm.
âUnfortunately my whole family isnât able to come. It is like- I mean I get it, serial killers are dangerous and itâs important and the right thing to chase them down. But do I not deserve some time with my mother?â Mr Pembroke evolved into a moral support over the past school year since he started his job at (Y/N)âs high school.
He always has something noice and wise to say. âYou do. Everybody deserves some time with their family and especially with their parents. Why donât you talk to them after all this is over? I can help you work on what you can say.â
Happily the teenager takes the offer and rushes to her class.
âGuys, I might be onto somethingâ, Spencer rips everybody from their train of thoughts. JJ looks at the watch on her wrist. (Y/N)âs game ends in about five minutes. And she sits here, stumped one the case she stood her up for.
âSo we thought about how he chooses his victims. The only connection we found was them having a bad relationship with their parents. But how would the UnSub know? They didnât share any classes.
âBut there always is one person, who knows about the studentâs problems. They tell them voluntarilyâ, he finishes, giving his colleagues the opportunity to answer it themselves.
âThe counselor!â Rossi exclaims, wondering how they oversaw the obvious.
Penelopeâs keyboard is practically on fire from her fast typing until she nearly shouts: âI got him! Keith Pem-â The rest goes under in the loud ring from JJâs cellphone. âIâm sorry, but this is⊠(Y/N)âs school! I-â Hotch nods, giving her permission to take that call.
âJennifer Jareau?â She canât wait until she is out of the conference room. Now that they know who the UnSub is, JJ is more on edge than ever. âUhm, Mrs Jareau, I call about your daughter, (Y/N). She is on her way to the hospital, she collapsed during the soccer game. We suspect an asthma attack, even though she used her inhaler.â The teacher on the phone gives her a few more information before hanging up.
âI-Iâm - (Y/N), she is- hospital. Her inhaler.â In that moment she makes all the connections. âGarcia, look for the girlâs medical history. Pembroke exchanged (Y/N)âs inhaler, Iâm sure he did. Look for it in the other girls. I have to go, she is at the hospital right now.â
In a way even Derek Morgan would describe it as reckless JJ speeds to the hospital, ready to fight any regulations keeping her from seeing her daughter sooner. âIâm here for (Y/N) Jareau. J-A-R-E-â She tells the woman at the reception breathlessly.
âOh I got her. She is in room 99. (Y/N) was unconscious for a certain amount of time, but she is slowly regaining her senses. A doctor will meet you there.â Before she even finishes her sentence, the blonde leaves the desk into the direction of the appointed room.
In fact there is a doctor waiting for her, updating the mother on her daughterâs condition. âI advise you to not overwhelm her. Her mind is still foggy and there may be things that donât make sense right now coming from her. But (Y/N) will make a quick recovery, being good as new in only a matter of days.â
Cautiously she enters the room. The teenager might be awake, but her mind clearly is elsewhere. âHey, Honey. Itâs me, your mom. How are you feeling?â JJ asks softly, taking her daughterâs cold hand into her own gently.
âOh, hi Mom. I didnât know you found the time to actually come here. Isnât there like a bad guy out there waiting for you to slap some handcuffs on him?â Ouch, she doesnât expect that kind of honesty. But itâs true and JJ knows what (Y/N) is talking about.
She sighs. âIâm sorry, Honey, for being seemingly absent from your life. I swear, you canât imagine how proud I am of you. I mean, you play soccer and there might be a scholarship in sigh. And even if you donât get one, you can do anything and I would still be proud to call you my child.â
(Y/N) turns her head around, looking deeply into her motherâs eyes. The blonde can see all the pain she brought onto her bundle of joy. âMom, I donât even enjoy soccer as much as you think. I only do this, because I thought there would be finally something we can bond over. But I clearly didnât calculate your stupid job in.â
JJ kicks herself for overseeing her daughter this much. She never stopped to acknowledge her oldest childâs accomplishments in front of her team and family. She always told everybody in the BAU what (Y/N) is up to, if they asked or not is not her problem. But in the whole process the agent forgot the most important person, the one who reached all those goals.
âOh Honey, Iâm so sorry for letting you feel like I donât want to partake in your life. I- I was just so invested in your life that I didnât think about you. You donât have to do anything that I like to get my attention. You can join the school band playing the triangle and I would practically make t-shirts for the whole team sporting your logo.
âAnything you do is enough for me. You donât need to change yourself to appeal to others, not even me. Iâm sorry for letting you down. I love you so much and I hope you can forgive me.â
It seems like (Y/N) needs a few seconds to comprehend her motherâs statements before answering them. âI just need a mom, who is there more often. That would be enough for me. Just once every three games is enough. To let my friends know you care. To let me know you care.â JJ gets tears in her eyes. She promises to be there more often, fully intending to keep that promise.
âGood, now that we have that sorted out I need you to come into bed with me. I feel I could sleep for at least a year because of Mr Pembrokeâs really weird tasting substance in my inhaler. Can we just cuddle until I feel like Iâm my old self?â JJ smiles while happily laying down next to her daughter, engulfing her in a hug, still being cautious of all the tubes she has going in and out of her.
âI love you so much, Honey Bunâ, the blonde murmurs, stroking a few strands out of her daughterâs face. But (Y/N) is too tired to answer. She just nods and cuddles closer to her mother before falling asleep.
Meanwhile, JJ watches over her like a hawk. Not even Will is allowed to come closer to her than two meters (or roughly six and a half feet for Americans), not wanting anyone to disturb her daughterâs peaceful sleep.
Taglist:
All works:
@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos
Criminal Minds:
@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962
#jennifer jareau#jennifer jareau x reader#jennifer jareau x daughter!reader#jennifer jareau x teen!reader#jj x reader#jj x daughter!reader#jj x teen!reader#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#david rossi#penelope garcia#derek morgan#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#x reader#reader insert#x daughter!reader#x teen!reader
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Heisenberg/Reader fic (nsfw)
Summary: After a short meeting with Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters barely escapes ending in bloodshed, Heisenberg is keen to show you just how much he appreciates your loyalty towards him. (Warnings includes rough sex, mild knifeplay, vandalism and restraints).
Karl Heisenberg was a selfish man.
He was selfish in almost every aspect of his life, and that selfishness also extended to you and your company. It was uncommon for him to allow you to join him when meeting others on his business outside the factory, with the only exception being your regular meetings with the Duke to acquire much needed parts for his equipment and experimentations.
However, a meeting with the Duke was necessary and the only available slot he had happened to directly follow a meeting Heisenberg had already planned with fellow Lord, Lady Dimitrescu. Due to this, options were limited, and the most sensible course of action was for you to accompany him for the meeting and then for you both to attend business discussions with the Duke within his room in the castle.
Which is how you ended up seated within the grand hall of Castle Dimitrescu with Heisenberg glued by your side as you both faced down the Lady of the castle and her three adopted daughters.
âAnd why should I listen to you?â Dimitrescu asks, her tone haughty as she ran a hand along the hem of her closest daughtersâ dress in a loving manner. Cassandra, if the hair colour was anything to go by. Her lack of attention towards yourself and Heisenberg was intentional, a mark of disrespect, and a flare of irritation ignited within your gut at the pettiness.
âMirandaâs rules, not mine.â Heisenberg shrugged, delivering the message he had been requested to, âIf youâve got a problem then take it up with her. I donât give a shit.â
Enjoying her mothersâ attentions, Cassandra tilted her head at her sisters as she shared a contemptuous look with them at Heisenbergâs words. Their attitude was just as rotten as their creators and it did nothing to dissuade your anger as Dimitrescu responded.
âMother Miranda should have known better than to send a child to deliver a message to me. A true Lady should not have to deal with a foolish infant who can barely lay claim to the title of Lord.â
Against your better judgement, you canât hold back a slight snort as Dimitrescu referred to herself as a true lady. Her hate for Heisenberg was without question and that hatred had long since leaked over to yourself and while Heisenberg was somewhat protected by his status as one of Mirandaâs children, you were considered lower than dirt and she had made that opinion quite clear across your shared interactions.
She didnât like you as you didnât like her, and that was fine.
âKeep your filthy pet under control,â Dimitrescu snarled fixing you with a pointed glare, her hand flexing almost subconsciously against her white dress, âor I will personally put it down.â
âIs she talking to me?â You ask, glancing sideways at Heisenberg and ignoring Dimitrescu as you cut off her insult, âIâm your pet? While sheâs sitting there with three bags of flies she dares to call her daughters?â
A loud chuckle escaped Heisenbergâs chest as low growls from the women ricocheted throughout the room at the brazen derision.
âYou DARE insult House Dimitrescu?â Dimitrescu bellowed as she stood to her full height, the looming form admittedly very intimidating, âYou dare open your common mouth against us while you sit by the side of scum like him?â
âAt least he has a sense of humour,â you hold her furious gaze with a steeled spine, confident that you would be protected from harm, âand isnât a frigid bitch living in a gifted castle.â
A lot of things happened at once as the daughter closest to your position, Bela, seemingly unable to restrain her anger any longer as her mother was insulted, leapt to her feet and withdrew her scythe from within her robes.
âIâll bleed you dry!â The rage in her eyes was clear and her sharp blood-stained teeth were on full display as she darted quickly towards the couch you occupied, swerving across a small side-table as she advanced.
She had barely crossed the empty space between you when a pained cry escaped her throat as the scythe in her hand was wrenched free of her grip, finding a new home against her throat as the sharp tip of the blade dipped into the flesh there in warning as it froze her in place. The same went for the scythes which were hidden within the robes of Cassandra and Daniela, the weapons no longer beholden to their mistresses wishes as they bowed to Heisenbergâs influence and power and assumed a betraying position against their necks.
Along the edges of the grand hall, the armoured knights rattled as the very air in the room seemed to expand and contract in anticipation. High above, the metal grating which held the windows in place flexed and shook; a clear warning which dared any of them to move.
âBack the fuck off.â Heisenberg snarled into the room, his voice easily carrying above the feral hissing of the three daughters. Having only moved his head forward slightly, his expression was mostly hidden by his positioning and wide-brimmed hat but from your place at his side you can see the rage that is simmering behind his glasses, âGet control of your bitches before I carve them into a million pieces and leave you to clean up the mess.â
The rage that radiated from Dimitrescuâs form seemed to pulse for a moment as she flexed her long claws before a hint of uncertainty crossed her expression as her eyes darted between her three daughters. Unlike herself, they were more vulnerable to attack and it was no secret that Heisenbergâs life was worth more to Mother Miranda then their own.
There was no doubt within the room that Heisenberg would kill them, consequences be damned, and Dimitrescu could not take the risk, no matter how satisfying the reward.
Sheathing her claws, Dimitrescu straightened her back and faced Heisenberg directly.
âYou come into my house, brother, and threaten my daughters with violence.â Her tone was measured, the anger buried beneath cold accusation, âBela!â She indicated to her still body with a loose hand, âCome sit by my side, daughter. This fool and his plaything are beneath us and not worth the effort it would take to drain them.â
âYes, mother.â Bela bit out, having no interest in peace but submissive to her mothersâ wishes as always.
You let out a quiet sigh of relief as the rattling of the metal within the room subsided and the tension eased off slightly. The three scythes clatter to the ground with dramatic flair as they are released and Heisenberg rises to stand at your side, indicating you to do the same.
âYou have your message,â facing Dimitrescu, he inclined the rim of his hat at her with a twisted smirk, ânow do as your mother asks and make sure that itâs done in time. This meeting is over.â
Calling his hammer from the floor, it flies into his hand with ease as his free hand comes to rest on your elbow, guiding you towards the stairs in a firm grip.
âSee you next week, sister.â
He calls the words over his shoulder, not bothering to spare the lady of the house a glance.
One final insult.
Passing down the stairs of the great hall, a subdued cry of rage followed by hurried footsteps and hushed voices can be heard from the space you recently vacated, and the direction of the disappearing noise suggests that Dimitrescu was retiring to her quarters.
No doubt to complain of the dayâs events to her disgusting spawn.
To your side, you can sense a restless energy radiating off Heisenberg as he marches you down the stairs but before you can question him, you find your arm seized in a vice-like grasp as he pulls you into a nearby room which lies opposite the room in which you are due to attend your meeting with the Duke.
Glancing around the room, you take in the space.
It is a small bedroom, mostly consisting of one large four-poster bed which was decked out in the same extravagant nature as the rest of the castle. Overhead, a large skylight made up the centre of the ceiling with its domed shape letting in a vast amount of light while also keeping out the cold. Two sets of drawers and a vanity table make up the rest of the furniture and you turn back to Heisenberg once more to question his actions.
You open your mouth to speak but are immediately cut off by his lips on yours as his hands move to his head to pull free his hat and drop it to the floor atop his freshly discarded hammer. Pulling away for a moment, he does the same with the glasses, dropping them into the same pile before returning to your lips; his mouth insistent against yours as he bites as your lower lip demanding entrance.
âWhatâs this about?â You ask and a grunt escapes you as he backs you up against the wall, your shoulders connecting with the hard surface roughly as he presses a leg between your thighs.
âIt makes me so fucking hard to see you stand up to that bitch,â he grunts, nuzzling his head against your neck as he inhales your smell, âa little warrior, ready to go to war with nothing but your wits.â
âI have you.â You whine back as he bites into the skin of your neck, the force enough to guarantee a mark but not enough to break skin, âI donât need anything else. You could tear that bitch and her infested little spawn to shreds without breaking a sweat.â
At the praise he presses his body against you and you can feel the hardness against your hip.
Ah.
âSo loyal,â he purrs against you, rubbing himself on your hip, âand it doesnât go unrewarded.â
âWe canât here,â you mutter with great regret even as arousal curls low in your belly, âmy biggest fan or her daughters could appear at any time and Iâd rather not deal with them while youâre inside me.â
His smirk is almost feral as he pulls free his blade from the inner pocket of his coat; the same blade which never left his person as a final line of defence against possible attack. Running the blade along the hem of your shirt, you suck in a soft breath and meet his eyes, seeing your arousal reflected in his own. He had tried to get you to learn to use one for your own defence but any attempts at training barely got underway before they were lost to more carnal pursuits.
Extending his hand with a flourish, the blade sliced through the air with great force, arcing upwards as it reached its target and smashed through the skylight. The shattering of the glass was loud and you instinctively duck to avoid any of the shards as they litter the canopy of the bed and fall to the floor.
âThe fly-bitches canât stand the cold.â He explains away the act of petty vandalism, shielding your body from the glass with his own as his hand summons his knife back within his grasp, âNow, where were weâŠâ
His hands grip at your wrists, pinning them above your head as his knife works independently at his will; the sharp blade running along the buttons of your shirt with surgical precision as it slices them off, the small buttons bouncing along the floor as they fall free to expose more of your body.
A shiver rattles through your body, a result of both the low temperature of the room as the winter winds enter through the fresh hole in the ceiling and the anticipation of events as you watch his knife slowly remove your barriers. A soft creaking from a nearby lamp holder catches your attention and you jump in surprise as the metal features flies free of the wall, coming to imbed itself around your wrists as he releases them, pinning you into place against the wall.
His knife drops to the ground as his free hands come to rest on your shirt, spreading the fabric open to fully expose your chest and his mouth is immediately drawn to your nipple as he worries the sensitive nub there between his teeth gently. It ignites a warmth in your chest that draws a low moan from your throat as you push out to meet him, encouraging him as your other nipple is rolled between his fingers to the same effect.
âJust one quick fuck,â he grunts against your chest, his hands fumbling at his slacks as he frees himself, his cock twitching in the chilled air of the room, âand then weâll continue with our business.â
You pant as his hands grip at your slacks, carelessly thrown on before you left, and he pulls them free of you, slipping them down past your knees and allowing them to fall to the floor carelessly as he exposes your clear arousal to his sight.
Lining himself up against your entrance, he pushes in with one swift thrust and the torrid mixture of pain and pleasure rips the breath from you as you clench around him, unable to do much else. The friction is almost too much as he sets a quick pace within you, the burn spurring you on to snap your hips back to meet him as he supports your weight, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist as he sheathes himself within you.
Wriggling against him as he pins you to the wall, you almost feel as though he is trying to fuck you through the stone and the rough growling of his throat as he does so is almost hypnotic as you whine and moan around him. Your fingers grip at their restraints as they are held in place by his power and your heels dig in to the soft of his back as you encourage him on.
As you cry out your pleasure, a rough hand comes to sit over your mouth as it muffles the cries. His fingers taste of oil and metal as your tongue meets them and the familiarity of it is pleasant as you moan around his hand. His cock stretches you as always and the brutal pace seems to be hitting every nerve inside of you as arousal curls your toes and tightens within your gut.
A grunt of surprise escapes you as he lifts you free of the wall, hurling you around with ease and dropping you on the bed as he continues to rut within you. Itâs almost animalistic and you can do little but wrap your legs around his hips and meet every punishing thrust as your fingers dig into the flesh of his back.
Even as you whine below him, your orgasm still manages to catch you off guard as the tight band of tension within your gut snaps as your thighs tighten around him and your feet press against his spine, sheathing him within you as you clench around him and milk him for everything heâs worth. You can feel your mess but you ignore it as you focus on finishing him but heâs not far behind and, with a savage growl, you feel his cock jerk and the warmth of his release as it burns through you.
âSo fucking loyal,â he snarls against your neck while his cock continues to twitch within you, each word punctuated by a lazy thrust as his pace slows, âso willing and warm and for nothing. Just for me and no one else. Mine.â
The final word is little more than a growl and, sensing that the words didnât require an answer, you give a low grunt of acknowledgement as you release your grip of his back and allow yourself to relax into the sheets.
The bed is soft against your back as you continue to writhe against him, ignoring the mess that youâve just made as you both enjoy the other. The chill of the room is offset by the heat of his body as he remains atop you and you focus on the strange duality as you try to steady your heaving chest.
Finally slipping free of you, Heisenberg pauses before pulling his slacks back up to wipe the mess from his cock off on to the soft bedding; leaving a noticeable stain against the expensive fabric with a satisfied smirk as he tucked himself back in.
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at the immature display, you focus on righting yourself even as your knees lock into place to keep you steady. Your hand dips to the floor to grasp at your underwear and slacks and you pull them on quickly, ignoring the mess which you both made as you cover it with fabric.
Your eyes settle on your poor discarded shirt.
âAnd what the fuck am I supposed to wear?â You ask, indicating the slashed-up fabric with an open palm. In the cold air, your nipples were peaked and walking about shirtless in the middle of winter was not an appealing thought.
His laughter is open and genuine as he considers his actions, âOops, maybe should have thought about that. If you werenât such a fucking tease then this wouldnât have happened.â
Remaining silent, you stare him down.
âFine,â he grunts as he shuffles his shoulders out of his coat, âwear this.â He tosses the coat in your direction and you grasp it between your fingers, the fabric still warm as it clung on to his body heat.
Slipping your arms within the coat, the first thought to grab you is that it smells like him; that is, it smells like copper and oil with a hint of spice that you are never quite able to place. The second thought is that it is very heavy against your shoulders and you straighten up fully to balance it correctly as you easily close it over your exposed chest.
As you go to leave the room, his presence fills the space behind you and you can feel him pressed against your back.
âI think I like you in my clothes.â You can feel his grin against your neck, âIt makes it clear who you belong to and it makes me want to fuck you again right here and now.â
âBusiness before pleasure.â You purr, tightening the coat around you as you move through the doorway as you guide him to your meeting, âWe can negotiate terms later.â
As fun as it would be, you had both kept the Duke waiting too long and you would rather not be around when Lady Dimitrescu discovered her vandalised ceiling and come-stained bedding.
Fic also available on AO3 @ DittyWrites
#karl heisenberg#re8 heisenberg#heisenberg x reader#heisenberg smut#lady dimitrescu#i really enjoyed this one i have to say#i love writing for lady d
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âĄMy Prison Pen PalâĄ
Helmut Zemo x reader
Word count: 1,802
Warnings: swearing, mentions of prison and crimes and slight angst to do with his family
A/N: its finally here! I havent writen a fic in a long time so hopefully you guys like this! I tried to avoid using idioms and things like that but message me if you need anything explained or reworded as I know most people aren't native English speakers
@sorcerersofnyc
âĄâĄâĄ
His first letter came during the series finale of your favourite show. A rather inconvenient moment, you thought, so it stayed on the welcome mat until you passed through the hall on your way to bed. Picking it up, you figured you'd skim the first few lines then finish it and write a reply before work. Instead, you found yourself writing and rewriting a reply through the night. Somehow this man had managed to enthrall you with only a letter. Maybe it was the way he wrote as if he was some elegant poet whose sonnets would one day be hailed as classics. How he managed to be open and expressive, exuding a welcoming aura, and yet still seeming mysterious. Or perhaps it was simply fated by the stars that Helmut Zemo would capture your heart.
You waited anxiously for his second letter to arrive. After sending the first, you hadn't cared whether you got a response, the whole thing seemed like a bad idea to you. But your mother was insistent that you needed to meet new people and this way you wouldn't need to worry about awkward face to face conversations. Sending the first letter felt like any other chore you do in the day, done with much effort and resignment but forgotten within minutes. But the second? It felt like the most important thing you'd done in a long time. You'd even bought a first class stamp (not that it makes a difference).
You wanted to know more about this intriguing man. No, supervillain. Charged with international terrorism. Jesus christ what the fuck was wrong with you? Were you really falling in love with a supervillain after one letter? But he didn't seem evil to you. He wrote eloquently, somehow his simple and brief description of his day (he'd started reading a new psychology book, you'd have to send him some recommendations) sounded fascinating in his words.
Over time, you started to notice small things about Helmut. The way he crossed his t's, how he signed his name, but mainly that there was a romanticism to his writing. From the way he described his home, his wife, his son to his recipes for Sokovian dishes with small notes and doodles (your favourite was his shepherd's pie recipe where he helpfully noted his mother's assertion that you should always add more than you think you need). It was becoming clear to you that he wasn't the stoic and vengeful baron you expected but rather a soft, lonely and endearingly weird man who you couldn't imagine plotting to destroy the Avengers. Whilst it was his mystery that first captivated you, it was his sweet and sometimes awkward personality that convinced you to keep writing.
It took a while for Helmut to tell you about his family. You had heard on the news back when he first arrested about his motive, so you were interested to hear his perspective on his crimes. But that wasn't what you got. Instead, he told you about when he and his father used to play football when he was young and how they would play a match every time he visited, with Helmut playing against his father and son, who always wanted to play with grandfather. He told you of the songs his wife used to sing, how her voice was always loud and shaky and after years of singing somewhere over the rainbow she would still forget the lyrics and invent her own. He told you how his son was the best pianist he had ever heard. How he could play the greatest rendition of amazing grace and that he had just learnt the theme from swan lake. That he had been excited to practice it on his grandfathers grand piano the day Ultron attacked.
There was something so human about this man. His love for his family, his loss and grief, his plan to avenge his family, it was all so tragic and yet here he was sending you drawings of the flowers from his garden growing up. You wanted to hug him and yet sometimes you felt he wouldn't need it, wouldn't want it. You were wrong.
Helmut Zemo missed his family. He told you so in one of his most recent letters. He missed holding his son, brushing his wife's hair, going for long drives, waking up at 2am to comfort his son, early morning trips to the shops, cleaning up after dinner, helping with homework. Everything he listed seemed so trivial, so meaningless in the grand scheme of life and yet the memories meant so much to him.
You realised then you had never pitied him before. Not that he wasn't deserving of it, just that he didn't seem to need it. But overtime you realised that what Helmut had really needed wasn't revenge or to make a world free from superhumans, it was someone to talk to. Someone to trust. Someone who would understand his pain and not judge it. Perhaps, you thought to yourself, you could be that person.
Fuck.
You couldn't think of how to cope with this. No one you knew had ever mentioned falling in love with a criminal through letters. And as hard as you tried you hadn't been able to find a single romcom with this plot line. You couldn't tell him. You imagined with his seemingly fragile state of mind receiving from basically a stranger professing their love would at best cause him to ghost you. Especially after he confided in you, shared his thoughts and memories.
So instead you continued as normal. You sent him pressed flowers and pictures of your favourite places. Eventually, he asked what looked like, and you spent an hour trying to decide whether you should send a picture of yourself or to just vaguely describe your features. After deciding to send a picture of yourself on holiday a few months before the blip, you found yourself wondering what he'd do with it. Would he throw it away as soon as he got the letter or would he keep it, tuck it away in some book to look at whilst thinking of you?
You also found yourself wondering what he looked like in the real world. You had found pictures of him online, but they didn't feel real. He was never rarely happy. The pictures pre Ultron were clearly taken by paparazzi, so you weren't surprised he rarely looked anything other than annoyed. There were a few though, ones with his wife and son, where he clearly hadn't noticed, and some from when he was much younger and seemed to enjoy the attention. Then were those taken after his arrest.
And so you continued to wonder he looked like. How he looked in the morning, with flowers in his hair or in summer with the sun lighting his face. You wondered what his hair looked like wet, if he ever scrunched his nose in disgust. You wondered what his smile was like.
Over time, you told him more about yourself. The stress of returning home after the blip to no job, no house and your friends 5 years older. Your ex was married with kids and your sister had moved abroad. It was as if you blinked and your whole life had changed. You mentioned how it was your mum who had suggested getting a pen pal, so you could talk to someone new, who was living a different life to you, although she had meant someone in a different country not jail. Since coming back you'd been isolated and stressed with starting a new job, recovering lost information and personal belongings and moving house, so you had thought it might be good to speak to someone who didn't know you, who couldn't judge you. You told Helmut how it had been good, how writing to him had helped you, how he had helped you more than he could ever know.
No, that sounded creepy. How you appreciated his letters.
Too formal. How you hadn't expected to become his friend, but you were glad to be able to say you were.
Helmut was comforting. You knew in your head that your meeting on Friday was nothing to worry about but seeing him say it felt so reassuring. Each one of his letters made you feel relaxed, feel safe. You wanted to make him feel the same. So, as a way to repay his kindness you had told him that no matter what happened, he could always trust you. And it was true. You couldn't imagine a world where you wouldn't do anything for Helmut and although you knew he would never need it, you still wanted him to know you would always care about him, even if no one else did.
Writing to him had become as easy as talking to someone you'd known all your life. You had fallen into an easy routine, you knew when to expect his letters and you knew when you'd send a reply. The routine felt so natural that you even knew what the envelope would look like, always the same off-white with a square edged flap. The address was always the same too. Except on his last letter. Which was strange.
At first, you thought Helmut had been moved to a different prison but after frantically typing the address into Google Maps you realised it was not a prison. Fuck you had no idea what it was, but it wasn't a prison. It also wasn't in Germany.
You sat still, staring at the unopened letter for a few minutes.
You looked up at the door. You thought you heard someone knock. The post had already come and you weren't expecting people. Hell, there wasn't anyone other than your parents who would visit anyway and they would have called first. Now you were sat still, staring at the front door.
"I know you're in there, the lights are on."
It was as if you were a marionette, being moved by some strange force that was slowly pulling you out of your seat and towards the door. You didn't even register that you moved until you felt the door handle on your fingertips. The cold metal caused you to stop, as if broken out of a trance. There was a sudden realisation that if you opened the door your life would never be the same. It was sickening, a mixture of dread and excitement; it reminded you of the moment before a roller coaster drops. You repeated that thought in your head. "Your life would never be the same". Your life hadn't been the same in almost a year. What would be the harm in one more big change. So you did it. You opened the door.
His smile was beautiful.
#zemo x reader#helmut x reader#helmut zemo x reader#baron zemo x reader#zemo#baron zemo#helmut zemo#tfatws
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THE RIGHT MOMENT
Summary: Y/n and George had been crushing on each other for too long, but neither of them said anything. They both were waiting for the right moment to do it, but with a war upon them, was there really such thing as 'the right moment'?
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Genre: angst-fluff
Tags:
George Weasley: âââ
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog
Warnings: injuries, blood, implicit beating
A/N: (dis bish long lmao) Idk what is this, I just wanted to do something for George. Bill and Fleur's wedding came to my mind and I was like, ok but what happened after the death eaters arrived? And this came out, so enjoy <3
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
I wasn't expecting to see her.
I had heard my mother mention her name whilst talking about the Order, and I knew she had befriended Fleur at the Triwizard Tournament, but seeing her apparate in our yard was... Well, surprising.
"Son, snap out of it!" My father called me out and I corrected my wand movement; I had almost messed up the canopy, and I blamed the way her dress and hair flew with the wind as she approached our home's entrance.
Fred walked to me the moment we had secured everything, glancing at the house before questioning, "am I delirious or that was Y/n?" with a knowing grin and an intent eyebrow wiggle.
As if taking a cue, we saw the girl coming out, now with a borrowed jacket on, making a beeline to us. "I'm... Pretty sure it's her." I replied, giving the girl a smile when she waved. "Morning, lady."
"Morning, gentlemen." Fred then turned around and stepped to her in order to give her a hug. "Long time no see, huh?"
"Indeed." I agreed, following my brother's lead and hugging Y/n; her arms were quick to wrap around my neck and shoulders and squeeze me tight; I would have sworn she let out a relieved sigh. "Fleur invited you?"
"Your mom, actually." Her reply left me puzzled. "I heard your night was... Eventful." She pointed at the bandages covering my ear with a worried look. "How are you feeling?"
"Better than last night." I replied, scratching the back of my neck.
"You sure, Georgie?" It was then that I remembered we weren't alone. "Last night he was feeling Saint-like." Y/n frowned in confusion. "Because he's holey." Fred pointed at his ear just like I had done the night before and I could feel my cheeks burning. "Get it?"
"Oh, no! it's sooo bad!" She laughed at the joke and a smile tugged the corners of my lips. "I think that's the lamest joke you've cracked." She pointed out.
"I know! I told him."
"Okay, I was bleeding out." I defended myself. "I think I'm allowed to crack a lame joke."
"Dunno, George, it was really bad." I threw my head back with a groan at Y/n's teasing. She waved at Fred, who said something about having things to do inside, and when my eyes landed on him over Y/n's shoulder, he mouthed a clear 'go for it'. "Tonks told me about Mad-Eye." She spoke again in a more serious note.
"You said it," the smile vanishing from my face. "Last night was eventful."
"When your mother told me you got hurt, I just... I got really scared." Her anxious words took me aback. "I went straight into the house to see you." The wind made her hair flow again, and I had to put my hands in my pockets to stop myself from tucking that bloody strand that kept getting in her face back behind her ear. "I was so happy you were out preparing stuff and not in there, unconscious in a bed."
"Well, I'm very happy to see you." I replied, my eyes digging into hers to make sure she knew how much I meant that. "Missed tons that smile of yours."
"I missed your lame jokes." I rolled my eyes at her response. Right after, she stepped forward and gently pulled me down; one of her hands holding onto my forearm, steadying her, while the other one cupped one of my cheeks so she could press a kiss to the other. "See you." And with that, she was off to greet the rest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Do it."
"She's talking with Luna."
"Excuses." I puffed tired at Fred's reproach before taking a sip of my drink. "C'mon, you got absolutely nothing to lose."
"My dignity?"
"She fancies you!" I shook my head no. "How many times are you gonna have the opportunity to dance with her, Georgie? Stop being a twit."
"Not yet."
"Oi, have you seen Y/n?" Ron approached us, taking a seat by my side.
"It's the only thing he's seen." I pinched the bridge of my nose, unable to deny what my twin had just said. "Just do it." I groaned. "Okay, I'll do it."
"No!" I jumped up and tugged Fred down in the process. "Alright, I'll go."
READER'S P. O. V.
"Yeah, I was about toâ"
I involuntarily let out a squeal when a hand tickled my side. "Hello, ladies." I spun my head to see George behind me. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but may I have this dance?"
Luna replied before I could. "You see, I was wondering how much time it'd take you to ask her." I turned as red as a beetroot; my only comfort was that the towering ginger's face was the colour of his hair. "I think I'm odd man out." She waved us goodbye and headed to see Harry.
"I reckon Luna is way too observant." He spoke, tugging my hand.
"Were you ogling me, Weasley?"
"Maybe." He came to a stop in the middle of the dancefloor and pulled me close. "Couldn't take my eyes off you." He confessed quietly.
As we swayed, I let my forehead land on his chest, savouring what I dreaded would be one of the last precious moments before everything went down.
"George?" He hummed, raising his brows as a prompt for me to talk. I took a deep breath and told myself that what I was going to say mattered little compared to whatever was looming over us. "I've been wanting to tell you this, but I just... Didn't find the right time." Our faces were mere inches away. "But I don't think I'll ever find the right time at this point soâ"
I jolted, holding onto George, when a blue volute plunged into the tent; a Patronus.
It was not until Shacklebolt message was ending that I realized George's arms were around me, pulling me flush against his chest.
Both our hearts were hammering violently, and I was sure he could feel mine as clearly as I felt his.
When the Patronus vanished, panic began to spread. I noticed how my own breathing picked up. "Y/n." This time it was George the one calling my name; his whisper sounded so clear compared to everyone else's screams and cries. "If I don't say this out loud, I'll combustâ"
"Y/N! GET DOWN!" Tonks's shouts snapped us out of it. We obeyed just in time to see a red hex flying over us, being stopped by Tonks herself.
George and I grabbed our wands and pulled each other back to our feet before joining the Order.
"FREDDIE!"
"LUNA!"
We parted ways, George making his way to reach his twin while I ran to a moderately tipsy Luna, who seemed to be struggling to find her father.
As soon as I made sure she was out of the picture, I jogged to help the twins, casting protection spells against two death eaters.
"STUPEFY!" I managed to take out the one attacking George, and he was quick to stun the one duelling his brother.
"Leave!" George tugged my hand, attempting to get me out of the canopy, his brother quickly rushing to their little sister.
"I'm not leaving!"
"Y/nâ" I moved him out of the way to shield us from another hex. "Pleaseâ Flipendo!!" I saw another death eater flying away from us. "Shit!" George's hand gripped mine for dear life, making me back off with him to get back in when he realized it was too late for me to leave.
Soon enough it was just the Weasleys, Fleur and her family, Tonks, Lupin and me inside the tent, all back-to-back, surrounded by death eaters.
Corban Yaxley stepped out. "My apologies to disrupt the celebrations." he offered a fake apology to the newlyweds which was equally disgusting and scary. "Let's try by fair means." I knew my knuckles had gone white, given the strength with which I was gripping George's hand. "Where is Harry Potter?" He knew no one would speak. "Aight, by foul it'll be."
I looked around and I saw Molly and Arthur shielding Ginny; Bill and Fleur held onto each other; Lupin and Tonks pulled Fleur's sister and parents behind them; Fred gave a quick look at his twin before moving closer to us.
"Take them inside and register the house."
Soon we were being pushed into the Burrow, a bunch of death eaters before us ready to put all upside down.
We stayed quiet meanwhile, leaving out an occasional 'don't touch that' or a 'there's no need to break that' from Molly and Arthur.
"I reckon you won't find Harry in my grandma's glass cabinet, smart arse." We all turned to Fred, his mother giving him a pleading look.
"Maybe he's between the plates, Freddie," George jumped in, attempting to draw the attention off his brother. "You'll want to check the cutlery too, in case he's now a teaspoon." He suggested to Yaxley with a challenging look.
The death eater tilted his head to the side, as if he had noticed something worth of interest in George. "What happened to you?"
Everyone went livid.
"I fell downstairs." George replied through gritted teeth. His tone was full of what could be easily passed as anger, but by the way his hand was shaking, I reckoned it was fear.
Yaxley seemed to think for a second before turning to two of his mates. "Start with him, then the twin and we'll move on toâ"
Before I knew what I was doing, my wand was out and hexing one of the guys that had tried to remove George from us.
"Take their BLOODY WANDS!" Yaxley stalked to me and grabbed my arm, pulling me away. "We'll start with you, miss."
"No! Wait, she doesn't know anything!" George tried in vain to persuade them, pushing through the death eaters in an attempt to get to me. I looked at him and shook my head no, already psyching myself up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
They were rather quick, and not half as bad as I thought they would be. I was thrown back into the living room with only a shiner and the promise of bruised wrists.
It was enough for George to jump up; not to check on me, though, but to do something as stupid as my impulsive hexing.
"Okay, crippled," three death eaters grabbed him before he could do anything and dragged to the bathroom they had gotten me in. "your turn."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
He looked bad.
Molly was about to throw hands when we saw George leaving the bathroom; a cut on the cheek, a bloody nose, a black eye and by the way he flinched while walking, probably an injured rib.
But the worst was the red pooling the bandage around his head, and the way he was struggling to keep his hand off it.
"C'mon, blabber." It wasn't surprising when Fred willingly approached Yaxley and punched him strong enough to throw him down. "You know-â He got up, motioning at his minions so they would get Fred in. âthat just made it worse."
I spared Molly an enquiring look, to which she replied with a nod; in an instant, I was gently pulling George to the settee. "Let me see..." I pursed my lips, tilting his head to the side so I could check his wound. A sigh left my lips, suddenly realizing I couldn't really take off the bandage in front of them. "Can you sit it up?" I whispered only for him to hear.
He nodded, his hand travelling up to mine, which rested on his cheek, to give it a reassuring squeeze. I didn't think twice about how wrong the timing was before leaning in and placing a kiss on his lips.
GEORGE'S P. O. V.
My body moved forward by itself when she pulled back, attempting to chase her lips. I managed to stop myself when I remembered we were surrounded by death eaters and my family was right behind Y/n.
She then gave me a small smile and moved to grab a fresh towel from the kitchen. I caught a glimpse of my family's looks before she came back, ready to clean the blood on my face.
She aided Fred along with my mom; he bore the burnt along with me.
The sun was rising when Yaxley decided to leave. My father rushed to send a Patronus to the trio, and everyone felt a bit of relief and finally scattered through the Burrow. Ginny claimed she would take care of Fred, and she took my twin to our room.
"Now, let's check that." Y/n spoke, standing up so she could remove the damp bandage. "What happened?"
"He threw a punch andâ" I hissed when the bandage left my ear, earning a concerned âsorryâ from Y/n. "The wound opened. It began to bleed, and they decided to stop." She only nodded, grabbing again the towel, now mildly red due to the blood it had cleaned. "That kiss was too short." I didn't even know how I managed to let that out.
She stopped, her eyes going up and down my body before inquiring, "want another one?"
"Please." She didn't need anything else for her soft lips to return to mines. This time it was one hell of a kiss, but my mouth chased them again when Y/n pulled away, only that this time her lips did return to mines for another short kiss. "Should I ask you on a date?"
"I doubt we'll be able to go on a proper date." We both chuckled; as sad as it sounded, it was true. "You can make me a coffee after I fix this, though."
"Gladly." I replied, my thumb caressing her cheek before bringing her to my lips one more time.
"FINALLY!" We both jumped at Fred's yelling. "It was about fucking time, really."
"Do you wanna get beaten up again?" Y/n harmlessly shoved my shoulder, hiding a laugh. "I just realized," I signalled my black eye and then hers. "We're matching."
"What a lovely way to match, is it not?" She replied, shaking her head with a smile on her face. âCome,â she caressed my cheek before carefully pulling me up. âI saw clean bandages over the sink.â
âYes maâam.âÂ
âY/l/n,â her eyes travelled to my brother. âdonât you snog my brother in the lavatory where we just got beaten up.â
âPiss off, Fred.â She responded indifferent, pulling me with her into the bathroom, leaving the door completely open; she probably feared my mother would burst it open at the possibility of us doing inappropriate things in there.
âYeah, piss off.â I agreed, siting down on the toilet so she could clean the wound. âShe can snog me wherever she wants.â I added, muffling a laugh when Y/n cursed us both under her breath. âIâm sorry, love.â
âNo, youâre not.âÂ
âNo, Iâm not.â I confessed with an amused grin.
âWhy do I even fancy you?â She questioned, faking disappointment in herself.
âIâm very handsome?â I casually suggested, tilting my head for her to wrap the bandage without much difficulty.Â
âMust be.â She agreed, leaning on to peck my lips. âNow whereâs that coffee, sir?â
I got up, leading Y/n to the kitchen and instantly preparing the coffee pot. âItâs gonna be the best coffee youâll ever taste.â I stated, as if it was a scientifical fact.
âConfident, are we?â she laughed, sitting on the counter besides me.
âWell, my four-year-long crush just kissed me.â I confessed. âSo yeah, very.â
âFredâs right.â I hummed, looking at her with an eyebrow raised as I handed her the coffee. âIt was about fucking time.â We smiled at each other, way too widely for two people who had just gotten roughed up. We stayed next to one another in silence, looking through the window; I found the customary landscape particularly beautiful.Â
#george weasley#george weasley x y/n#george wealsey imagine#george wealsey x reader#george weasley x ravenclaw!reader#george weasley x hufflepuff!reader#george weasley x reader#george weasley x slytherin!reader#george weasley x you#george x you#george weasley x muggle!reader#george weasley x malfoy!reader#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley fic#george weasley fluff#george x reader#george x angelina#fred and george#harry potter fanfiction#deathly hallows#george weasley icons#george weasley angst
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Royal Affairs - II
Consequences Will Follow
Rating: MÂ
Warnings: Intense yearning, shirtless sparring, and oral (f. receiving), of course.
Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 4.9k
A/N: Hereâs Chapter 2!! I was planning to have this out on Christmas, but I ended up adding a couple extra scenes, so it took a little longer than I planned!! I have chapters 3, 4, and 5 outlined, so hopefully it wonât take too long for the next chapter! Iâve also got three other stories I want to get posted soon though, so it might not be right away! Anyways, I really hope yâall continue to read and enjoy this AU, Iâm having so much fun with it!!!
P.S. If yâall wanna send me asks about this AU... I will gladly oblige đ„șđ
Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment!! I love hearing what you guys think!!
Itâs late by the time you get back to the small housing unit you share with your sister and your buir. Youâd spent hours doing mindless chores around the shop, unable to keep still, lest your mind start to wander to the guests youâd entertained earlier. It feels like a fever dream, something you can only half-recall, and when you try, you grow hot and dizzy and altogether exhausted.Â
Your family should be asleep, but when the door slides open, your sister and mother are sitting at the table, waiting for you with a glass of spotchka. Aâdenla looks up sharply as you walk in, worry written into the crease of her brow. Your mother doesnât carry her worries visibly, but you can see in the way her eyes rove over you, checking for injuries, that sheâs been just as worried as Aâdenla.Â
âWhere have you been?! Do you know how late it is?!?â
Your sister is out of her seat and in front of you before you can blink, her hands gripping your upper arms as she does so, shaking you slightly. You know sheâs just worried about you, but youâre exhausted, and the minute youâd gotten home and stopped moving, your mind began to wander, just like youâd hoped to avoid.Â
âDid he get your message? The gossip has been flying, did the King actually come to the shop?â
You blink tiredly, your exhausted brain only able to focus on one thing.Â
âHis name is Din.â
Thereâs a beat of silence. Aâdenlaâs hands drop from your arms. Then, your motherâs sharp voice pierces you like a vibroblade.Â
âWhat. Did. You. Just. Say.â
Your head swivels towards her, and you can actually see fear in her eyes. You frown. âHe told me... to call him Din... twice.â Your sentence would hold more weight if you didnât stop to yawn twice in the middle. Stars, how are you so tired?
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aâdenlaâs mouth drop. You yawn a third time, covering your mouth with your hand. Thereâs a little niggling in the back of your head telling you that you should be worried about this too, what it means for the King to ask for a peasant shopkeeper to call him by his name, but you canât bring yourself to care, not when youâre less than twenty feet from your bed.Â
Your mother is muttering something to herself, and you think you catch something along the lines of âMaker, give me patienceâ but you canât be sure. You just want to sleep, for kriffing sake.Â
âGo to bed, daughter. You look exhausted.â You weakly nod your head, already liking where this is going. âBut, we are going to talk come morning.â
You hear the words your mother says, but they donât really register as youâre already stumbling towards your room. Your sisterâs voice picks up behind you as she starts to bicker with your mother, but youâre already falling into bed, asleep before your head hits the pillow.Â
***
Unfortunately, morning doesnât bring you any peace and quiet like you were hoping for.Â
As soon as you were even halfway conscious, your mother had practically dragged you to the kitchen table, shoving you into a seat as she began pacing the length of the room. She was clearly agitated, and you didnât have to wait long to find out why.
âWhat exactly happened yesterday, daughter? First, rumors are flying that the Kingâs son ended up in your store, then there are the rumors that the King himself visited, and then you come home half asleep, muttering about the Kingâs given name?! What in the name of the Maker possessed you, child? Do you know how much trouble we could get in with you just throwing the name of the King around like heâs some... some....â
Your motherâs breath quickens as she rants, raising higher and higher until sheâs practically shouting. Her yelling makes you feel about a third of your actual height, small and meek as she scolds you. Stars, you knew better than to say the Kingâs name out loud, it was the height of disrespect! And coming from someone of your station? If anyone other than your mother or sister had heard...Â
It didnât bear thinking about.Â
Your buir is clearly waiting for an explanation, but just as you open your mouth, a sharp knock sounds at the door. Both of your heads jerk towards the entryway, and for a moment, neither of you move.Â
When you go to stand, your mother holds up her hand sharply, gesturing for you to stay put. You feel shame rising in your cheeks at the way sheâs treating you, like youâre still a child, but given last night, you canât entirely blame her.
Youâre only half listening as she answers the door, but when she calls your name loudly, her voice shaky, you jerk out of your seat, practically running to the door to see whatâs wrong, only to draw up short when you see the woman standing there.
âIâm Cara Dune. Iâm an advisor to the King,â she informs your mother, bending in a short, sharp bow of respect, causing your motherâs eyes to widen. âIâve been sent to collect your daughter.â She turns to you. âOur King requests your presence at the palace.â
You have to physically stop yourself from twisting your hands in your skirt nervously. âDiâ Did the King say why?â You ask, heart racing as you try to remember every little detail about your interaction with him yesterday. Did you offend him in some way, and heâs only now punishing you for it? Does he think you lied to him about the bounty hunters? Doesâ
âYour presence is requested.â
Swallowing harshly, you nod. Even though it is framed as a request, all three of you are well aware of the fact that a summons by the King is not something to be turned down lightly.Â
âCome on.â Cara turns and stalks out the door, her steps heavy and loud in the tense silence of your house. Your mother is staring at you with this indescribable expression, but when you make to step past her, she grips your arm tightly, causing you to turn to look at her.
âIf youâve done anythingââ
The threat hangs in the air, and you nod shakily. She doesnât even need to finish her statement. You understand her meaning perfectly clear. Whatever problems youâve caused need to be fixed, or else. Your family doesnât need the displeasure of the King of Mandalore hanging over your heads.Â
She lets you go and you follow Cara out the door, wishing you had a moment to change into something more presentable. Youâre just in a simple dress meant for working around the house, not for audiences with royalty. Unfortunately, you doubt Cara is going to want to wait, and the quicker you get through this inevitable disaster, the better.
Thereâs a speeder waiting to take you both to the palace. Caraâs already waiting, so you gingerly step inside.Â
âNever been in a speeder before?â
You donât have to look at her to know sheâs looking at you with that look. The one all the higher-born give those born into a lower station, the peasants. âMy family has never exactly been in a position to afford a ride in a speeder, much less own one of our own.â
Cara hums, and gestures for the speeder to start. You feel the engines rumbling beneath your feet and the speeder starts up, gliding smoothly above the ground as you begin to make your way out of the lower levels and up towards the palace.
You canât help but look around, entranced by the way the buildings shift, from dingy, rundown stores and homes to sleek, shining high-rises and elegant towers seemingly constructed purely of transparisteel. Youâve never been out of the village before, so this was all completely unfamiliar, and you were even more self-conscious of your appearance. It was clear you didnât belong here.
âYou donât need to be nervous,â Cara said suddenly, and you looked over at her incredulously. âI donât think Iâve ever seen Din so tongue-tied before.â
The King? Speechless? Because of you?!Â
âIâm sure youâre mistaken,â you whispered, looking down at your hands. Maker, your buir would kill you if you brought such unnecessary and unwanted attention to yourself. It wasnât proper for a peasant to be drawing the attention of anyone above their station, especially the King himself. It didnât matter how it had felt when heâd spoken to you, nor how his hand had felt on your back when heâd stood behind you in your shop. Peasants had been killed in the past for less scandalous acts than youâd engaged in.
âYouâre very pretty.â Your head jerked up at Caraâs blunt words. âIâm not surprised Din is so drawn to you.â
Oh Maker, he thought you were pretty?
Cara just chuckled, terror and embarrassment clear on your features as you gripped your skirts tightly. This was not good.Â
âItâs not proper.â
The words left your mouth before you could stop them, and Cara suddenly stopped laughing. You flinched, worried that youâd offended her when she suddenly covered your hands with her own.Â
âDin doesnât care about propriety. He was a bounty hunter before he became the King. The same people who look down on you for being a shopkeeper looked down on him as just a dumb mercenary.â You slowly raised your head, meeting Caraâs surprisingly comforting gaze. âAnd now, they all grovel at his boots, hoping that heâs forgotten how they treated him before he won the Darksaber.â
She pauses again, her hands tightening over yours. âDin doesnât care about money or expensive gowns or connections. None of those things could impress him more than when he saw how youâd genuinely cared for his son. You didnât know he was the Kingâs son, you didnât care. You just saw a hurt child and took him in. That is why Din was so entranced with you.â
You were silent for a moment, mulling over her words, before something struck you as odd. âWâWait, was? What do you mean by that?â
Caraâs soft grin suddenly turned wicked. Your eyes widened at the pure glee and mischief in her eyes. âWell, then he met you.â She waggled her brows, looking you up and down, a dirty smirk wide on her lips. âNow heâs entranced for a whole other reason.â
The innuendo was clear in her voice, and you felt your cheeks heat rapidly. She had to be joking. There was no way that the King found you attractive. It just wasnât possible. Youâd spent your entire life being told how plain you looked, by your buir, and the children youâd grown up with. You sister and Vys had tried to tell you otherwise, but you knew they were just trying to make you feel better after yet another boy taunted that youâd never find someone who wanted you.
Mandalorians were well known for their passion and intense desire. It wasnât unheard of for couples to say their vows in their late teens, with females often pregnant before their twentieth year. Courtships often took days and weeks instead of months and years, a hold-over from when Mandalore almost fell to the Empire. It had become custom to find a riddur and marry quickly, and to get pregnant even quicker, incase too many warriors fell in battle.
Children were revered in your culture, and men and women alike dreamed of starting families, raising adâike and ensuring the continuation of the Mandalorian way of life, a desire that only grew stronger with the war.Â
Even though you werenât that old in terms of lifecycles, you were much older than was typical for starting a family. Your sister had married young, but her husband had died only a year and a half after their union, and sheâd chosen not to find a new riddur. Your brother has been married for close to twenty years now. But youâd never come close to finding someone you wanted to spend your life with. Not that your family hadnât tried to fix that.Â
But you didnât want to marry someone just so that you could pop out a few children so that you could be seen as âdoing your duty for the betterment Mandalore.â You just wanted a riddur who would respect and love you, but it seemed that it wasnât meant to be. The few boys youâd let your guard down around and had gotten close to had been absolute diâkuts, cocky and rude, demanding you submit to them and give up everything to please them, so youâd given up on ever finding a riddur.
âIâm not the kind of woman to inspire those kinds of thoughts in a man,â you muttered, missing the suggestive smirk Cara sent your way.Â
âYouâll see,â she whispered, turning back to watch as you approached the palace.
***
Cara had marched through the grand hallways of the palace with an air of authority that stunned you. Even though her outfit made her look out of place in the sleek and elegant palace rooms and halls, her absolute confidence radiated out, filling the rooms with her presence.Â
You just followed along behind, silently grateful for the fact that the palace seemed to be empty. Cara seemed to know exactly where she was going, and you followed her through all the turns, hopelessly lost. Youâd never be able to find your way out of here by yourself, which made you feel a little uncomfortable, but you tried not to dwell on it.Â
As you made your way down yet another hallway, you started to hear what sounded like grunts, along with repeated clangs of metal hitting metal. Eyes wide, you almost asked Cara what it was you were hearing when she turned, a grin on her face.Â
âWeâre here.â
She pushed open a door, and the grunts and clangs grew louder as the two of you entered what looked to be a training room. There was a large mat in the center of the room, with seating off to one side. There was specialized equipment lining the other sides, for what you assumed was different exercise routines. You first noticed little Grogu, seated on the stands. He turned when the door opened, and his little coo reached your ears as he clambered down, waddling over to you as fast as he could.Â
Youâd thought he was running to Cara, but when he ran straight past her and collided with your legs, your eyes widened. He gripped the fabric of your skirts in his little claws, his big, beautiful eyes begging for you to pick him up.Â
Without thinking you bent over and scooped him up, settling him on your hip. You looked up to see Cara grinning. âHe missed you.â
Your eyes widened. âWait, what?â
She nodded. âYeah. He really didnât want to leave your shop last night. He pouted all day until Din told him you were coming.â Your heart melted, looking down at the little one who was snuggling into your side.Â
There was a loud smack, and you looked up suddenly to see a huge shirtless man falling back onto the mat, the beskar staff falling to the ground next to him. Another man, also shirtless, stood over the fallen fighter, his own beskar staff secure in his grasp.Â
A quiet gasp left your mouth, your eyes widening as you took in the sight before you. The man with his back to you was clearly in excellent shape, his golden skin glistening with sweat, his shoulders broad and muscled. His dark hair curled at the ends as it brushed the nape of his neck. His legs were clad in a pair of black pants, tight enough to show the muscles of his thighs and calves. Youâd never seen a more attractive man, and you hadnât even seen his face. The man on the ground was attractive as well, big and hulking and covered in tattoos, but your eyes kept flitting back to the victor of the fight.
You didnât see the gleeful look Cara shot you, as she watched your eyes widen and your breath hitch when you saw the two fighters. Maybe if youâd seen her look, you would have been better prepared for what came out of her mouth.
âDin! Paz! Weâve got a guest, you nerf herders!â
Her yell was loud enough to cover the gasp of shock as you realized just who the shirtless men were. You recognized Paz, the general of Mandaloreâs fighting corps, even though youâd never seen him. Gossip about him and his abilities had reached even the lower villages, and his tattoos were legendary. But it was the other man who still held your attention. The King.
He turned, his eyes landing on you and Cara, standing near the door. His gaze focused on you, and you felt your cheeks heat at his intense gaze. Youâd thought his armour was intimidating, but actually looking him in the eyes was far more so. A slow smile spread across his lips, and he began to move towards the three of you.Â
You swallowed, forcing your eyes to stay on his face, and not the glistening skin of his bare chest. As he approached, Cara leaned in, plucking Grogu from your arms and whispering âhave fun!â before turning and making her way towards Paz. Your eyes widened as she left your side, before you forced yourself to sink into a curtsy as the King came to a stop in front of you.
âMy king,â you whispered, standing upright, but keeping your head bowed. You had no idea why youâd been summoned, and you were practically trembling with worry.
He was silent for a moment when suddenly, he reached out, lightly gripping your chin as he coaxed your head up, his eyes dark as he captured your gaze.Â
âI thought I asked you to call me Din?â His voice was soft, soothing, and yet you felt shame. Your king wanted one thing, but you knew what propriety demanded, even if it meant disobeying his direct order.Â
âItâs not proper, my king. I have no right to speak your nameââ
He shushed you softly, his thumb brushing the underside of your jaw. âIf you truly do not wish to use my name, I will not force you, darling.â Your eyes widened at his words, shocked. Here you were, outright disobeying a direct order from your King, and he was okay with that?
âBut I dearly wish you would,â he continued, watching your face closely. âMy name sounds so sweet, falling from your lips. I would ask you to humor me, at least when weâre alone.â
You inhaled sharply at his words, feeling like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. He was looking at you so earnestly, and his hand was warm against your neck. Youâd never had anyone look at you like this, and you didnât know how to feel about it.Â
âItâs not proper for me to address so informally,â You started, pausing to take a deep breath. âBut, if you desire for me to use your name in private, then... IâI suppose I can humor you.â You paused once more. âDin.â
The soft smile that spreads across his face is dazzling.Â
âThank you, darling.â He murmurs, releasing your jaw and taking your hand in his, gently pressing a kiss to the back of it. You felt your cheeks warm. The effect this man was having on you was one youâd never experienced before, and it was clear he knew just what kind of effect he had on you.Â
His eyes ran up and down your figure unashamed, and you were surprised to see a pleased smirk on his face as he looked at you. Youâd never had someone look at you with such desire, and it brought on a dizzying feeling. You looked away, unused to such feelings and attention.
âDonât be ashamed,â Din said, brushing his fingers across your cheek, turning your face back towards his. âHas no one ever told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are?â
You were sure he could feel your burning cheeks underneath his fingertips. You slowly shook your head, wanting to look away out of embarrassment, but his dark gaze held you firm.Â
âWell they should,â he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. âYou struck me speechless yesterday.â He chuckled, his dark hair falling gently over his brow. You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth, worrying the flesh out of nervousness. Youâd never been this close to a man, let alone a half-dressed one.
Your breath suddenly hitched as his thumb moved to brush over your lower lip, pulling it from between your teeth. His gaze was heavy, looking at you as though you were something precious, something to be desired.Â
The trance was suddenly broken by a loud yell from behind Din.Â
âDjarin! I want a rematch!â
Youâd jerked at the sudden sound, but Din only sighed, his eyes sliding shut as he stood before you, your face still cradled in his palm. He opened his eyes again, smiling softly at you.Â
âHave you ever seen a sparring match before?â When you shook your head, he gestured to the seats behind you. âStay. Watch.â
He released you, turning and stalking back towards Paz, leaving you standing there with a warm face and fluttering in your stomach. You were dazed, and caught off-guard when Cara suddenly appeared back at your side, with Grogu in her arms.Â
âCome on, the kid likes to watch too.â
She all but dragged you to the seats, pulling you down next to her and plopping the little one onto your lap. Automatically, your arms came up around him, but you were still lost, your gaze still unfocused as you tried to make sense of the conversation that had just taken place.
You watched as Din and Paz centered themselves on the mat, falling into stances, with their staffs held at the ready. Muscles tense, the two men were still for a few moments, before they suddenly sprung into action. The clangs as their staffs collided were loud, and you watched, wide-eyed as the two men fought ferociously.
âGood, isnât he?â
You just nodded dumbly, unable to take your eyes off of the sight in front of you. Cara chuckled, leaning forward and bracing her arms on her legs as she watched alongside you.
âYou ever learn how to fight?â
You scoffed. âNo. Iâm a female shopkeeper from the lower villages. The most I was ever taught was how to run away and scream for help.â Unfortunately, unless you joined the fighting corps, most of those in the lower villages werenât concerned with teaching women how to defend themselves. Your mother had always balked at the idea that you should learn how to fight, insisting that your husband would be able to take care of you, ignoring the fact that you still werenât married.Â
Cara shrugged. âI bet Dinâd teach you if you asked.âÂ
A choking sound left your mouth, and Cara laughed.
***
âYour center of gravity is here.âÂ
You stood as still as you could, feeling the warmth of Dinâs palm as he pressed against your lower stomach, his bare chest pressed into your back. His breath was hot against your neck, and you swore you could feel the brush of his lips against your skin as he spoke.
His fingers splayed against your bare skin, his other hand gripping your waist. âIf you keep your legs spread,â he muttered, using his his bare foot to knock your feet apart, forcing your stance wider. âYour center of gravity will be lower, and itâll be harder to knock you down.â
You nodded, shifting slightly to settle your weight better onto the balls of your feet. Dinâs hand squeezed your hip, before he let go and moved to come and stand in front of you. He mimicked your stance, thumping the center of his chest with one fist.Â
âHit me.â
You raised an eyebrow. âWhat?â
He rolled his eyes. âI want you to try and knock me down. So, hit me.â
Frowning, you hesitated for a moment. âHow am I supposed to knock you down? Youâre so much bigger than I am.â
Din chuckled. âI may be bigger, darling, but that usually means Iâm going to be slower. Donât try and use brute force, play to your strengths. Youâre smaller than I am, but that doesnât have to mean that youâre weaker. My center of gravity is here,â he tapped the middle of his chest, at his sternum. âItâs higher up on men, so itâs easier to knock us off our feet. Youâre naturally more grounded. Use that to your advantage.â
You nodded, bringing your hands up like Din had showed you. You threw your fist forward, but Dinâs hand came up, blocking your punch easily.Â
You frowned, and he only grinned. âTry again.â
This time, you tried to punch with your other hand, to throw him off, but Din still blocked your punch. Even though you werenât surprised, you were still frustrated. Â
âCome on, darling. Itâs not that hard, just hit me.â
His voice is sweetly condescending, and it lights a fire in your core. You can do this. Youâve just gotta hit him.
You throw a punch with your non-dominant hand, and as he goes to block it, you snap your other hand up, nailing him square in the center of his chest. He lets out a grunt, and as he bends over slightly from the force of your punch, you lean over and dart forward, ramming your shoulder into his stomach, knocking him further off-balance.Â
He falls back onto the mat, and you follow him down, landing on top of him, your legs on either side of his hips as your hands grip his shoulders, pushing him into the mat. Youâre leaning over him, panting, a smug grin on your lips.Â
Din is smirking up at you, and you get the odd sensation that even though heâs the one on the ground, pinned under your weight, heâs still in control.Â
âThere you go, was that so hard?â
You scoffed, sitting back, settling onto his lower stomach as you glared down at him. âGod, what would it take for you to shut up?â
Dinâs still smirking, but he mock-pouts at your words. âAw, darling, you donât like how Iâm using my mouth?â
You groan, tilting your head back to stare up at the ceiling, annoyed. âNot particularly, no.â You miss the dark look that suddenly appears in Dinâs eyes, but you donât miss the way he abruptly grasps the back of your knees and jerks, bringing you up so that your core is centered over his face. You almost lose your balance with the movements, falling forward and bracing your hands on the mat as Din brings your legs up to straddle his face.Â
âDin?!â You gasp, your face growing hot as you feel his breath against your core through the thin fabric of your training pants. He just ignores you, ripping both your pants and your underwear in one quick move, his arms wrapping around your thighs and bringing you down so that youâre riding his face.Â
The first touch of his tongue against your folds causes you to whimper, the sensation unfamiliar but so good. Heâs gentle at first, carefully stroking you with his tongue, but it doesnât take long for him to grow impatient, his arms tightening on your hips as he pulls you down.Â
His tongue flicks against your clit, and you shudder, your head falling forward, eyes clenched shut. He seals his lips around your clit and sucks, and a high-pitched whine escapes your lips, your thighs trembling as he devours you like youâre the sweetest thing in the galaxy.Â
Din is relentless, insatiable, fucking you on his tongue, and every time breathy gasps and moans leave your mouth, he goes harder, faster, his fingers gripping your skin so tight youâll wear the bruises for days.
âFuck, Dinââ You gasp, one of your hands gripping his hair as he grinds you down onto his face. âPlease, donât stopâ!â
He moans into you as you tug on his hair, and the vibrations are just fuel for the fire thatâs burning in your veins. He encourages you to circle your hips, helping you ride his face as he eats you out like youâre the last food heâs ever going to get to eat. Youâre not sure how he hasnât had to stop to breathe, but then heâs suckling on your clit and flicking it with his tongue and you almost scream.Â
âIâIâm gonna come, please, Dinâ!â
He sucks harder and youâre almost there, andâ
***
Your eyes snap open, your whole body tense as you gasp, the fire burning in your belly becoming a raging inferno, and you have to clasp your hand over your mouth so you donât wake the whole village. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing as you come, legs shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.Â
The fingers of your other hand are clenched tightly in the sheets as your hips desperately grind against nothing but air. Tears are leaking out of your eyes and running down your face as you sob brokenly into your hand. Youâve never felt anything so powerful, so overwhelming.Â
As you lay panting on your bed, trembling in the aftershocks of your first orgasm, your heart thumps in your chest as you remember the way Din had looked between your thighs. Groaning, you rolled over, drawing up into a little ball.Â
It was just a dream.Â
Just a dream.
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#din djarin x reader#AU#Royalty AU#King!Din Au#king!din#the mandalorian#the mandalorian au fic#Din Djarin is KING#no use of y/n#kind of slow burn#but not really#Din is just too irresistable#feat.#grogu#cara dune#paz vizsla#cause why not#also reader's mom is a bit of a bitch#oh well#smut??#maybe??#royal affairs
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innocence - 28
PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader
WARNINGS: angst
A/N: its angst season again!!
NEXT CHAPTER
Bucky looked around like a crazed maniac, looking for anyone, just anyone who could be responsible for the letter he was holding in his hands. His blood seemed to freeze in his veins just like they used to when they held him hostage in the Russian base. Those words were tattooed in his retina, as it dawned on him he had once again to keep her safe. His ears started ringing like they always did when they used to trigger him, the ring itself replacing any other environment sound, becoming so loud it fully overcame over his senses, rendering him particularly useless. Not that he was of use lately.
   - Bucky? - Y/Nâs sister, Claire, called out to him. Almost mechanically, he stuffed the letter in his back pocket. - Are you okay? You look a bit shocked. Any naughty Christmas post cards?
   - Just a bit ... cold.
   - Yeah, Y/N said you were not very comfortable with it. Sorry about that, I was just trying to keep you away from Aunt Petunia. Sheâs too much.
   - Thanks, Claire. Hm ... do you have any landline? I need to make a call to the US and my plan is running out.Â
   - Yeah, no worries. Thereâs one in the hall by Y/Nâs bedroom. - she gave him a warm smile which was reminiscent of Y/N yet did little to nothing to calm him down. He handed her the rest of the mail before climbing up the stairs to the same hall which had doors on each side. Yet, despite it looking like a maze all he cared about was that small telephone on the table.Â
Her picked the phone, leaning it against his ear as the rolled the dial to Steveâs number, the letter firmly mashed in his fist as he wanted nothing more than to burn it in the big fire place but he couldnât. All he could think of was whoever had broken into Y/Nâs flat back had followed them to London and once again he had been incapable of protecting her. He had let whoever was sending her those nasty messages, get to her in one of her most safe places. The other line rang like the passage of long times, until he heard the voice which had become synonymous with freedom and America together.
  - Steve Rogers.
  - Steve, they did it it again. - he snapped before he could even tell who it was on the phone. Yet, if his oldest friend couldnât figure out his voice after so many years then maybe he needed new friends.
  - Buck?
  - Someone left a letter on her mail box calling her a whore again. You and Natasha were on it trying to figure out who did it in New York. - he continued on like an out of control mess.Â
  - Buck, calm down. Was the handwriting similar? Maybe itâs a prank.
  - Thereâs no handwriting just magazine cut outs and itâs not a prank.Â
Y/N stepped out of the car, walking over to the luggage holder to help her father take the shopping bags out while her mother walked up to the door to unlock it before they could climb up the stairs. Her father opened the truck of the small red car which they had had since she was a baby. She still remembered her father picking her up from ballet practice, the red colour bright through the cloudy skies. It always felt so safe to enter through those doors, almost if there was no harm whenever she was inside the old metal vehicle. Things were so simple back then and evil was so hardly defined and bordered away from her. She had had a good childhood, good parents, good family so why was she so scared whenever she was in New York? Why was she so intrinsically insecure and meek?
  - So, beanie, you and James. Does he treat you well? - he asked as he handed her some bags and christmas boxes.
  - Heâs just perfect, dad.Â
  - Then what is it?Â
  - What do you mean? - she looked over her shoulder.
  - Well, youâre my daughter, youâve been my daughter for over 5 years now and I like to think I know you better than you think. Whatâs wrong, Y/N?
  - Iâm just homesick, dad. - she faked a smile, pushing her hat further down her head, trying to fiddle with something else. - New York is different from here and well, stardom is different from here. It has nothing to do with Bucky.Â
  - He makes you happy?
  - He does.Â
  - Then Iâm happy for you, beanie. - her father kissed the top of her head, carrying half the shopping bags and gifts onto the home while Y/N stood back looking at the neighbourhood sheâd grown up in. It wasnât perfect, no place in the world is perfect but it had a much more emotional connection to her than her place in SoHo. Of course, maybe it was just her own rose coloured glasses of being away from such a structured, planned 3 year ahead career.Â
She smiled softly at the houses in exposed brick shades and the coloured blue and red doors with big gold number. Rows and rows of houses which seemed never ending when she was younger yet now seemed so quickly fading from view. Nothing is everlasting and she remembered so well thinking everything was but maybe it was for the best. Good things end to give way to better ones and bad things end become they no longer suit you.
Y/N looked over her shoulder one last time before entering the house. She put the bags near the other ones neatly stacked by the staircase before pulling her coat and jacket off. The house was always filled with noise, it was never quiet. Always abundant with laughter or discussions about the silly topics. This time, they were discussing some weird plot on the television. However, Bucky was nowhere to be seen.Â
  - Did you not invite Bucky? - she crossed her arms, giving her siblings the dirtiest look she could muster. - Guys, I asked you to include him.
  - We did but your boyfriend has been on an international call for the last hour. Itâs gonna add up. - Colin retorted.
  - Iâm gonna go check on him. - she reminded herself to tell Colin off for that backhanded comment but she was much more preoccupied with Bucky. Sure, he did enjoy his loneliness but Y/N didnât want him to feel alienated. She did not want him to feel lonely or like a stranger in her home. Climbing up the stairwell, she noticed him at the end of the hall, old telephone she used to toy around with when she was a kid pretending to call her family yet, unlike her past childhood self, Bucky had the phone firmly pressed against his ears, lips tight, one hand holding himself against the table.Â
She noticed his indisposition, his muscles so tight she wondered how come he hadnât had a cramp and like any empath she approached him with her characteristic sunny attitude, wrapping her arms around his waist, putting herself on her tip toes to kiss him. Bucky, however, moved his head to the side, mumbling something over on the phone in Russian, switching languages as if he did not want her to hear his conversation. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, her overthinking nature picking at her brain as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Bucky turned around slightly to kiss her on top of her head like one does to a child or a friend.Â
  - Iâm on a call now, princess. - he held her arm up to wrap it from his waist.
  - Okay. Iâll just go ... go have a shower.
She delayed her exit, almost waiting for him to kiss her like he always did whenever she left. However, Bucky quickly returned to his call, in Russian, and she got the message loud and clear. She tried not to think much about it, after all Bucky was still related to the Avengers and despite being his girlfriend, she was not expect to be into that sort of information. She tried to convince herself of that fact as she stepped onto the cold porcelain of her shower floor. The water fell from her head onto her shoulder as she scrubbed the dirt off her body, constantly telling her inner anxiety, Bucky was merely busy. If she were busy she wouldnât have liked her partner being clingy. He was busy.Â
She turned off the shower, wrapping herself in the fluffy bathrobe she probably had had since she was 18, hair still damp as she slide her feet into fluffy slippers and walked into her bedroom. Bucky was sat in her bed, laptop on his lap as he typed the keyboard so harshly one would think heâd break the keys. She smiled to herself as she took the side near him, head laying on top his cozy black jumper, probably dampening the fabric but Bucky didnât seem to mind. In fact, he didnât even seen to mind her presence, merely ignoring it. She looked up at him, moving to kiss his jaw with an innocence type of request which was anything but innocent.Â
 - Buck. - she said in a sing song type of voice, almost like a mermaid calling out for a sailor. - Why donât we finish what we started in the airplane?
 - Not today, princess. - he kissed the top of her head once again. - Iâm not in the mood for it.
 - Oh ... hum ... okay. - she almost retracted back into her shell at those words. Had she done something this morning? Something to upset him? Maybe he didnât enjoy her leaving him alone with her family. - Do you wanna go out for dinner?
 - I donât think itâs wise, princess. They might ... pap us or somethâng.Â
Did he not want to be papped with her? Maybe he was still upset over the pap photos she had willingly given away. She didnât know and she didnât want to know. Instead, she decided to turn around in the bed, still naked under her bathroom and stare at the wall until she felt sleep weigh on her eyelids. Bucky, on the other side, had his wild eyes glued to the screen, watching the security tape of her apartment over and over again. It had been cut, he knew it had from the time changing sharply, however, he couldnât see anything which would be of any aid. All he knew was that not only had he failed his job as an Avenger, he failed his job as her bodyguard and failed to protect her like any boyfriend would do. Would it be in a club he couldâve just punched the daylights out of whoever dared to call her that but right now he couldnât. He didnât know how to make it stop.Â
Bucky closed the laptop, putting it on the floor as he looked through his mind about who could want to hurt her, who cold do anything to want her to suffer. He could no figure it out and all he wanted was to figure it out. He leaned against the bars of her bedpost, looking over to his side to see her sleeping on her side, hand under her face and hair drying in front of his face. He carefully pushed the hair away from her face, tucking her into her large duvet before kissing her cheekbone. He couldnât bring it upon himself to say anything, to tell her the letter came in. Bucky still remembered how she had reacted last time and he did not want it to happen again, he did not want her to feel unsafe in her own home. Instead, he let himself fast asleep next to her.
The morning woke Y/N up, the strange brightness of a sunny winter day hurting her eyes. She groaned, raising her torso from the bed, eyes blurry as she opened them. Rubbing the sleep off her eyes she extended her arm to notice Buckyâs spot was empty. She furrowed her brows, jumping off bed and walking outside and down the stairs onto the living room where most of her siblings and their partners were.
  - Wow, Y/N. Clothes under the bathrobe, much? - Eloise teased.Â
  - Whereâs Bucky? - she ignored her sister.
  - He went out. - Claire added, handing her a cup of tea. - Said he had to grab some stuff.Â
  - Oh ... okay. He didnât say anything.
  - He probably didnât want to wake you up. - Claire patted her shoulder, kind smile on her lips.Â
   - Or maybe heâs cheating on you. - Colin added, only to be slapped over the head by Eloise. - Hey, what was that for? I was joking.
   - Heâs not cheating on you. - Claire reassured her. - Colin is just being an ass.Â
   - What? I was joking! Â
   - Not with Y/N, you idiot. - Eloise muttered under her breathe. - Maybe you should go put your clothes on, Y/N. Bucky is probably just Christmas gift shopping.
   - Or maybe he got lost? He is like 200 years old. Did you give him a pager? He might be lost in Piccadilly Circus or maybe he canât get out the underground.Â
   - Fuck off, Colin. - Y/N snapped at him before returning up to her bedroom.
He knew her brother was just trying to get under her skin. Bucky was not cheating on her, when did he even have time to find someone in London to cheat her with? Maybe he had some contacts in London from when he used to come to missions with the Avengers. Maybe he had someone in London for him. No. No, Bucky did not. Bucky wouldnât cheat on her, Bucky liked her but he was acting out of style to him. She sat on her bed, hand in the middle of her legs as she tried to stop herself from overthinking things that were absolutely ridiculous. Since she was no good at doing such thing, she called the only person who normally could push her back to reality.Â
  - Chuck? I have a problem.Â
  - Jesus, Y/N. Have you forgotten time zones? - Chuck groaned on the other side of the line. - You better be dying.
  - Bucky is acting weird.Â
  - Bucky always acts weird. Whatâs your point?
  - I donât know, Chuck. It feels weird. I even tried ... initiating IT and he said no. Do you think heâs not attracted to me anymore? He didnât even want to kiss me
  - Maybe he was not in the mood, Y/N. Also, why are you so freaked out about saying sex? Are you sexually repressed? Did you try to initiate some kinky sex with Bucky and maybe his old man penis wasnât okay with it?
  - Can we not discuss my boyfriendâs penis, please?
  - What? Heâs old, maybe it hasnât been getting up. Did you ask him? Maybe he forgot to pack Viagra and heâs ashamed.Â
  - Chuck. It is not that.
  - I donât know, Y/N. Maybe spice it up. Dress up like Princess Leia in Empire Strikes Back. Every man is into it.
  - Bucky hasnât seen Star Wars.
  - I donât know what was sexually appealing in the 40s, Y/N. Donât you have that lingerie set they made you wear for Rocky Horror? Use that. Maybe he really just wasnât in the mood.
  - Okay ... yeah. Uhm, maybe it will work.Â
  - Great. Now, I need to sleep because it is too late and thereâs a girl in my bed and I donât want her to think I have you on the side.
  - Oh, is she a nice girl?
  - Y/N ever since you lost your virginity you get very boring when you donât get a dick appointment. Go on and do it with Bucky and weâll talk later.
  - Okay, thank you.
  - Bye, bye.Â
Y/N stared at herself in the mirror. She never really saw herself a sexual being or a sexual girl at all. After all, she was the one who got told by three guys at her university freshers party she had the sexual charisma of a toaster. Now the metaphor did not make any sense but all she knew was that it probably did not make any sense. It wasnât that she wasnât comfortable with her own sexuality, she just didnât think about it outside of work. Maybe Bucky was used to girls who put a bit more effort and wasnât very attracted to her very old bathrobe and her Marks and Spencers cotton underwear. She shrugged it off, opening her wardrobe to skim through some of the costumes she had worn until she found the white lacy set. It was better than her regular cotton underwear. She put her robe back on looking at herself in the mirror as she gave herself a pep talk. Heâs not cheating on her. She knows he would never do that.
She sat down in her bed, going over some scripts sent over by the agency until midday when Bucky came into the bedroom, on the phone with someone else, still speaking Russian. She waited for him to finish his call before she walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.Â
  - Sorry for not telling you, Y/N. I had to make some calls with the team.
  - Itâs okay. - she smiled at him. - I was just thinking maybe ... maybe we could have some us time. My parents went to do the groceries and my siblings wonât bother us, besides I have something I want to show you.
  - Sorry, not in the mood. I need to call Steve. - he took his jacket off, putting it on the edge of her bed. - Itâs urgent, princess.
  - Oh, okay.Â
  - Can I use the landline? Pretty sure I still havenât figured out how to make international calls.Â
  - Yeah. - he kissed the top of her head once more.Â
She sat on her bed defeated. Her mind going through everything she couldâve possibly done wrong the morning she left with her parents. Maybe he really wasnât in the mood, however he did seem pretty eager that morning. She sighed. Damned Colin and his stupid backside comment. She sighed, rolling in her bed, the movement making his jacket fall to the ground. Great Y/N, now youâre wrinkling his clothes. She got up from her bed to grab the jacket for a letter to fall on the ground. She looked to the side, leaning down to pick the letter only to drop it once she saw the writing. You cannot hide, whore. She grabbed it from the ground before storming out to the hall, pulling the cable out the wall, effectively stopping Buckyâs call.
  - When were you gonna tell me?
taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @bbabysbaby @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogersâ @nsfwsebbieâ @sarge-barnes-sirâ
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