#idea i had when this prompt was sent to me like. over a year ago and i only just now got around to writing it ghkgdf

[receding-tides]

Pearl and Marina: "oh fuck, OH FUCK!"

💜 hope you have a nice day!

Send me a pairing and a line of dialogue and I'll write you something

"Pearlie, is everything okay in there?"

Of course the collection of explicitives were going to draw attention from her girlfriend. Pearl, dragging the frying pan off the hob and frantically fanning the thin trail of smoke away with a paper towel, forced a grin even though Marina was on the other side of a closed door. "A'course! Everything's fiiine!" Phew. She'd managed to prevent the smoke alarm from going off. That would be a real snitch. "You know you don't have to worry about me, 'Rina!" Totally not. Pearl felt her grin turn to slightly more of a grimace as she observed the contents of the pan. "I said I'd make you a totally awesome breakfast and it's going, like, so awesomely!"

Well, she supposed somehow managing to burn specifically the middle of a pancake was awesome in its own way. At least she'd managed to prevent a fire?

"... Okay." Marina, unfortunately, sounded like she did not fully believe that everything was fine. She knew Pearl was putting a lot of herself into making this birthday breakfast for her, though, and didn't want to ruin that by interfering, unless there was an absolute emergency. Which there wasn't, because Pearl had things totally under control! "Call me if you want a hand, though."

"I got things under control! No hands necessary. I mean, other than my own." Pearl waved one of them, still unseen, and almost scalded her hair with a fresh-out-of-the-frying-pan spatula. "You are going to go back to bed and wait and feel loved and appreciated."

That did bring a very adorable laugh out of her. The best sound. The confidence booster for Pearl that she could, in fact, make an extravagant breakfast, even if she was significantly worse at multitasking than Marina was. "Okay, Pearlie," she said, affection in her voice. "I know it'll be great if you're putting so much love into it."

Of course it would! Marina had done the same thing for Pearl on her own birthday earlier in the month, and it had been the best meal the little squid had ever experienced in her life. Also one of the biggest, even if that had been a measurement-conversion mistake, and Pearl had felt too stuffed to move for half the day afterwards. Knowing Marina had put so much love into doing that for her motivated her to put in every bit as much effort now. Without giving her girlfriend mild stomach cramps in the process, hopefully.

It was... a little disheartedning that the pancakes were the first thing she was messing up, in a significant way, when that was something she was used to making, but... it was fine. There were just a lot of different things for her to keep track of, and she'd stopped paying attention for a moment.

The rest of this pancake seemed done, though, even if there was a very charred patch in the middle. She could cut that part out and style it so it had Marina's '8' logo in the centre! Pearl was a genius.

With the distraction now out of the way, she could hear a hissing sound.

"... Ah, shit, the eggs."

Maybe it seemed that she struggled a little bit, to the average, uncultured-in-Pearl person. And, well, some parts were a little cold by the time she'd finished organising the four different foods she'd been cooking at the same time.

The look on Marina's face, the sparkle in her eyes, when she took the first bite, was worth every ounce of effort.

(Plus, only about ten percent of the food was totally inedible! That was a new personal record. Pearl really did a good job today, after all!)

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 1

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: A lot of mood and scene setting—just vibe with it, MC is in her sad girl era, hints of depression and anxiety, masturbation, Yoongi is a new dad y’all he is tireddd af

Word count: almost 6k

Posting date: November 12, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕🫶🏼

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Masterlist

Namjoon leans back in his seat, sporting an all-too-familiar, slightly conspiratorial glint in his eyes. Hmm. You know that look. 

It's the same one he had when he "casually" set you up to tutor one of his trainee friends in English—the one you let slip was kinda cute. Or when he signed you up to perform with one of his rapper friends in that underground club in Hongdae. Sure, you knew every word of the chorus to eminem’s Stan, but you were not a fucking singer. 

You still did it, though. Both times. 

Namjoon’s especially notorious for volunteering you to do things he insists are "right up your alley." There’s a fire in his eyes when he starts talking about one of his ideas, and before you know it, you're swept up in his vision, already picturing yourself right there beside him, doing something you’d never consider on your own.

Namjoon has been your best friend since forever and for reasons you can’t explain, saying no to him has always been impossible.

Right. It’s definitely that. It’s definitely not because in those two prior instances mentioned, both friends of his are actually the same guy. The one you had an almost crippling crush on over a decade ago. (You’re sooo over it, though. Trust.)

When Namjoon leaned in, you were already bracing yourself.

“So, you know Yoongi, right?”

You blink, pause, and slowly shake your head. It has taken years, but today is the day you tell him, “No.”

“The fuck? What do you mean no?” He replies, already looking hella amused. “I haven’t even said anything.”

Your face feels like a furnace, but you grit and steady your voice. “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

He lets out a hum, shifting in his seat, and you get the sense he’s working up to something. 

You sip your coffee, keeping your eyes on him. He gives you an exaggerated shrug, dimples deepening as he lets his shoulder sag. 

God you’re literally already about to break. 

“Fuck. Joon. Spit it out.”

He nods triumphantly, “Ok, there’s something I thought I’d run by you first, before he hears about it.”

The words hang in the air, and you raise an eyebrow. “Joon. What are you getting me into?”

Namjoon chuckles softly as he folds his hands on the table. “So… Yoongi has a son. A baby, actually.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. 

Woah. Someone has fuckboi Min Yoongi all locked down?! Huh. You never saw that coming.

You let that sink in, surprise filling the quiet space between you. “I… didn’t know he had a kid.”

“Not many people do,” Namjoon admits. “Only those close to him know. Yoongi’s a great dad, but his caretaker recently left, and now he’s scrambling to balance his schedule and take care of his son.”

“And his wife?”

Namjoon sighs, gives you a look that means he’s about to say something confidential. “There’s no wife.”

“Baby mama?”

“Out of the picture.”

You let out a small breath, absorbing everything you just heard. You already had an idea of where this is leading up to, but you want it said explicitly. “So what exactly are you asking me?”

Namjoon nods, eyes hopeful. “Look, I know this is a big ask. I’m putting this out there because you’re one of the best with kids I know. And Yoongi—well, he’s pretty wary about letting new people get close to his son.”

You take another sip of your latte as he prattles on.

“While you’re still getting your bearings back, maybe you could take over the caretaker job, even part time?” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly as he says your name. “I just thought you might consider it. You’d be doing us both a favor. Yoongi really needs help, and I’d trust you more than anyone with this.”

You sit back, letting Namjoon’s words settle. Namjoon knows exactly what he’s asking—knows exactly how hard it is for you to refuse when he gives you that puppy dog look, especially when he’s throwing Yoongi into the mix. Honestly, you hate how you're apparently still soft for him even after all these years.

Namjoon also knows your current situation. Does he not realize it’s a bit unfair to ask this of you right now? Not when you're still picking up the pieces after your breakup with your long-term boyfriend. Not when you need time to heal. Not when you literally uprooted your life and just moved back to Seoul a month ago.

But somehow, you can’t shake the curiosity. What would it even be like to see Yoongi as a dad? To get a glimpse of this whole other life he’s got now?

It’s probably a terrible idea. 

Yeah, no. You don’t need this right now. Money isn’t tight. And you need to focus on… 

You take a slow breath, mentally tracing the edges of this mess. There are a hundred reasons to say no, and only one reason you’d even consider saying yes. And because it’s for Yoongi… damn, maybe that’s reason enough.

The next time you see Yoongi, it’s at HYBE’s massive rehearsal space. Namjoon had invited you to watch the group practice—innocent enough, though you know it’s also his way of nudging you toward the job. Joon thinks he’s subtle, but you know his plans are, more often than not, clunky as hell.

You settle in one corner, holding on to your half-finished iced Americano. A few staff are scattered around the studio, there was another girl (maybe a member’s girlfriend, you’re not sure), but it’s mostly empty. The boys are warming up, stretching or chatting, and you wave to Jungkook and Taehyung before finding yourself glancing toward Yoongi.

Wearing an all black outfit and a baseball cap, he’s standing off to the side, arms full with a fussy baby, and a bassinet stroller in front of him. The boy can’t be more than a few months shy of his first birthday. He’s close to tears, twisting and squirming, while Yoongi, visibly flustered, tries to hand him a toy, then a bottle, then anything he can find. Nothing works. Soon, the baby’s fuss turns into a full-on tantrum.

Oh, damn. Poor Yoongi. 

He drops the bottle, spilling milk across the floor just as the stroller, half-locked, rolls a few feet away. He lunges for it, fumbling as the baby’s wailing intensifies, tiny fists flailing in frustration. Yoongi’s eyes dart around, panicked, while a couple of female staff start toward him, hands outstretched. But he waves them off, his face set in a mix of fierce determination and mild desperation as he rocks and hushes the baby.

It honestly hurts to watch the scene unfold. You almost want to do something.

Namjoon starts clearing people out, Jimin dims the studio lights, and Seokjin picks up the spilled bottle, wiping down the floor. Hobi taps a white noise track on his phone, placing it near the stroller. Your heart warms at how effortlessly everyone pitches in, their movements so practiced it’s obvious they’ve done this before. But it makes you wonder just how many rehearsals have paused for these moments. It’s probably why Namjoon wants to help find a solution, a.k.a you.

You meet your best friend’s gaze and he cocks his head toward the door, signaling for you to file out with the others, but your feet take you somewhere else entirely.

“Is he okay?” you ask, approaching Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t hear you at first, too focused on calming his son. His face is etched with exhaustion and something fragile, an uncharacteristic crack in his calm. He finally glances up, half-exasperated. To your mild relief, a look of recognition crosses his face, before he replies, “Yeah, he’s—he’s usually not this fussy.”

You watch him struggle for a bit, then, before you can second-guess, you step forward. “Do you mind if I try?”

Yoongi hesitates, studying you like he’s weighing the decision to trust you with his son. His eyes flick towards Namjoon who was standing by the door, before it goes back to you. After a tense pause, he nods, handing the baby over.

You hold the little boy, shifting him gently away from the mirrors and bright lights, rocking him slowly and humming an old lullaby you used to sing for your preschoolers. Gradually, his cries quiet down, his tiny head resting against your shoulder as he begins to relax, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt. Within minutes, he’s fast asleep.

When you glance up, Yoongi is watching, his face unreadable. There’s relief, yes, but also a quiet wonder, an almost surprised gratitude. 

“I owe you,” he murmurs, a softness in his voice you hadn’t expected.

“‘S ok,” you say, quietly, careful not to wake the baby.

The two of you stand there, his eyes on you for just a beat too long, and if you didn’t have the baby to ground you, you feel like you just might float.

“Thank you,” he says, tone soft and sincere.

From across the room, Namjoon watches, his eyes mirroring the same gratitude.

The call from Yoongi comes unexpectedly one evening, just after dinner. You don’t recognize the number, then again you don’t have a lot of +82s yet since you just moved back after many years of being in the States. The last thing you expect is to hear Yoongi’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey, it’s…Min Yoongi,” he starts, voice a little rough.

“Oh, hi.”

There’s a short silence, and then he clears his throat. “Namjoonie mentioned you uh might… be interested in helping with my son.”

You feel a strange flutter, both at the fact that Yoongi is talking to you, and at the fact that he’s asking something so personal. “Uh, yeah. I can help out.”

The pause is long enough that you imagine him somewhere, shifting uncomfortably. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” he finally says, sounding almost apologetic. “I don’t want to… impose or anything. But it would help. A lot.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you,” You hear Yoongi release a sigh of relief. Then he says the next phrase in a rush, “I know you are overqualified for this, so uh please let me compensate you with your salary as a teacher in America.”

You feel your face flush. Thank god this was not a video call. Seems you’re as uncomfortable as he is talking about money, though it is a necessary evil. “Oh, no, please Yoongi. You don’t have to. Joonie’s my bestfriend and you’re his brother. I can just help until you can find a more permanent solution.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t argue with you on this. You hear a puff of breath before he says. “Alright. Thank you.”

And just like that, you’re set. He gives you the address, and you’re left wondering for the rest of the night how you’ll manage this strange new gig.

The first day you arrive at Yoongi’s apartment in Hannam-dong, you’re a bundle of nerves, unsure what to expect. 

After you ring the bell, the door opens to reveal Yoongi with his usual reserved expression, a piece of muslin cloth draped on one shoulder.

“Hi,” he says simply, stepping aside to let you in.

You offer him a smile. “Hey.”

He closes the door behind you as you step inside. You look around, taking everything in.

The apartment is spacious but cozy, with a warmth that speaks of careful design—minimalistic furniture in muted colors, shelves lined with books and vinyl records, a few baby toys strewn around the living room. Homey.

This is the first time you get to really see Yoongi. The brief encounter at the rehearsal studio didn’t afford you the chance to appreciate how time has treated him. 

Seeing him after six years, he’s both the same and somehow different. He has always had that calm confidence—a steady, grounded energy that feels both nostalgic and new. His usually colorful hair, now in its natural hue, casually frames his face. He wears a simple white tee and you can tell the noodle arms are gone. His shoulders are much broader, arms stronger than how you remember him. The silver earrings are still there, subtle reminders of his edginess, softened by time.

But beneath it all, there’s a layer of, hmm… exhaustion, you guess? A shadow under his eyes, faint lines hinting at the weight of sleepless nights. His lips are chapped, there’s a tiny red bump on his chin. He’s a new dad, he hasn’t prioritized himself for a while. Still, his face carries a tenderness in the fatigue, like he’s tired, but happy.

“He’s napping right now,” Yoongi clears his throat, motioning toward a small crib by the window, where his son is sleeping peacefully, bundled in soft blankets. 

“You haven’t told me his name.”

“Haneul.”

“That’s beautiful,” you reply, and Yoongi nods, almost shy.

He hesitates, glancing down as if gathering his thoughts. Then he says your name. “I… um, I didn’t know how this would go. His last caretaker was actually my aunt, but she got sick and had to go back home.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that.”

He nods, “But after seeing how he calmed down with you… I think he’ll be alright.”

He gives you a tour of his apartment, the baby monitor clipped in his jean pocket. His place is modern, spacious, baby-proofed. There are pictures that line the walls of the hallway linking the nursery, his studio, guest room, guest bath, and the masters.

You spend some time going through Haneul’s things—familiarizing yourself with the layout of the nursery. He shows you where the baby food and snacks are. Talks about his favorite toys and activities. 

While he downloads the 101 on Haneul, the one thing you were curious to know was, where is his birth mom? You obviously don’t want to be a prick so you swallow the question down. Maybe you’ll find out in the future. But for now, you just need to know where the baby wipes are.

For the first few days that you come over, Yoongi keeps close, hovering just within earshot as you ease into the cadence of his son’s needs. He’s there with his arms folded, watching as you handle Haneul, a cautious yet respectful distance. You get it though. You’re a virtual stranger he just let into his home and his son’s life. Who wouldn’t be guarded?

You quickly notice that Haneul has a sweet temperament, but has a bit of a sensitive side. He doesn’t take to loud sounds, so you keep your voice low and movements gentle, singing him lullabies and nursery rhymes under your breath while Yoongi quietly observes, even if he pretends to be engrossed with something else.

On your third day, Yoongi has to leave to attend an important meeting at HYBE. He’s been pacing by the door, making sure his son is settled before he goes, even though you’re right there, holding the baby with practiced ease.

“Are you sure you’re… good with this?” he asks, his brow furrowed, as if still convincing himself to leave.

You give him a reassuring smile. “Go. I got him. He’ll be fine.”

He hesitates one last time, eyes fixed on you, and then he finally gives a small nod. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

As soon as the door closes, you’re left with the quiet hum of the apartment and a very awake, very curious baby in your arms. You spend the next hour rocking him and singing songs, amazed at how easily he settles, almost as if he’s known you longer than a few days.

After his nap, you take a video of the babbling Haneul enjoying his yogurt gems and send it to Yoongi. He replies almost immediately with a smiley emoji and a curt: cute.

Yoongi returns around dinnertime right as you’ve settled the baby down in his bed. He steps inside the nursery quietly, watching as you tuck the blanket around his son. When you look up, he’s standing there, holding two cups of steaming liquid.

“I, uh… thought you might want some tea,” he says, looking slightly awkward but endearing.

“Always.” You take the mug with a grateful smile. “How was your meeting?”

“Could’ve been an email,” He shrugs and stuffs the empty hand inside his pocket.

You grin as you take a sip, remembering how you’ve always enjoyed his dry sense of humor, in the rare occasions you hung out in the past. Ooh, this tea is… your favorite.

“Silver moon?” you asked.

He nodded, “There’s a TWG shop that just opened near the office. Namjoonie might have mentioned it was your favorite, so.”

Your ears warm up just as well as your throat as you savor another drink.

“How was Haneul? Did he give you a hard time?”

“Not at all,” you shake your head, looking over to the little angel. “I’ve had a lot of practice, you know.”

“I can’t imagine handling a whole classroom full of them,” he says, looking at you with a mix of admiration and amusement. “One’s hard enough.”

“You’re lucky to have him,” you reply wistfully, suddenly feeling a tug at your heartstrings. ‘What I would give…’ you almost utter out loud.

The thing is, you actually do, without realizing it. Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi files the thought away, a subject he might bring up one day—when the time comes that he thinks you trust him, too.

The days blur into a steady rhythm. You arrive in some afternoons, not really everyday, only when Yoongi needs the extra hand at home or if he needs to leave the house for a day of rehearsals. You both establish that this is merely a favor so he doesn’t treat you like you’re at his every beck and call. Usually it starts with a short message in Kakao, and if you’re free, he would send a car to pick you up. Your meals are always ready, delivered on the dot. Conveniences are always within your reach—your favorite tea, extra clothes in case there are food or poop blow-outs, etc. The cleaning lady that goes thrice a week, Mrs. Kwon sometimes keeps you company and assists you with anything.

As you help take care of his baby, you feel that he’s looked out for you, too. Which is nice.

On days that he is working from home, Yoongi brings his work into the living room, just to be nearby during playtime with you and Haneul. 

One evening, when his son falls asleep in your arms after a particularly fussy day, Yoongi glances up from his laptop and leans back in his chair, a tired but grateful smile breaking through.

“He’s really taken to you,” he observes, sounding almost as if he’s admitting it to himself.

You smile, feeling a strange warmth at his words. “I think he’s just a really sweet kid, Yoongi. He’s easy to love.”

The smile he gives you after that is probably the gummiest one you’ve ever seen. 

A few weeks pass, and a subtle partnership has started forming between you, like you’re both slowly finding a rhythm in the chaos of caring for Haneul.

Bath time becomes a kind of unspoken relay: you gather the towel and clothes, while Yoongi preps the tub, testing the water with careful fingers. There’s a brief exchange of glances—no need for words, just a nod as you pass off Haneul, who’s already giggling happily.

Snack time turns into a ritualized watch party. You set out the applesauce and crackers for Haneul, and Yoongi brings a bag of chips and his laptop over to the living room, joining you and Haneul for yet another episode of Miss Rachel. Occasionally, he’ll mutter a sarcastic comment under his breath, trying (and failing) to disguise the fact that he’s memorized the songs, too. (And in English, no less!)

There was one particular afternoon that you walk in on the father and son having a heartwarming exchange.

Haneul, who’s wobbling on his unsteady little legs, is reaching eagerly for a stuffed tiger Yoongi is holding just out of reach.

“Oh, no, no, no—you gotta work for this,” Yoongi teases, eyebrows raised dramatically. He moves the tiger side to side, adding a low, exaggerated growl that makes Haneul squeal with laughter. Yoongi leans fully into the act, growling and making faces, finally swooping Haneul up with a playful roar, both of them dissolving into laughter.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, your heart catching slightly at the sight. The way his eyes crinkle in genuine amusement, his mouth relaxed into a wide gummy grin. And you’re startled by how… soft he looks, how fucking attractive he is when he’s like this. When his usual quiet intensity is replaced by this playfulness, by this open warmth. It hits you somewhere deep, a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you can’t quite ignore.

Yoongi catches you watching, his smile faltering for a moment, but he holds your gaze. His expression shifts, something curious reflecting in his eyes as if he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he swallows a lump in his throat, cheeks dusting a faint pink as he looks down, bashful.

You force yourself to glance away, feeling warmth creep up your neck. For the first time, you’re struck by an awareness of him that wasn’t there before, and it lingers, even as you turn back to whatever it was you were supposed to be doing. The image of his smile, his laughter—it all stays with you, stirring something you can’t quite put a name to.

And just like that, you’re settling into this role in the life of the Min men—something you know is temporary, but is infinitely meaningful.

When you’re not in Yoongi’s apartment, your own place feels strangely foreign.

God, you hate it here. You can’t even bring yourself to call it home—it’s just a room with white walls, half-opened moving boxes, a stack of unread books Joonie gave you, a mattress on the floor, and a fridge with a single egg. It’s quiet. Too quiet. You could fix the place up—it’s not like you can’t afford a bed frame or groceries—but for some reason, you’re punishing yourself. Like this is the way someone like you—unwanted and rejected—ought to live.

Nothing in this flat tethers you to it, and maybe that’s why you prefer being out.

You’re afraid your heart is stuck somewhere in limbo, somewhere between Seoul and LA. Maybe it’s still floating above the clouds on that flight back. You don’t know when it’ll come down, but you hope it’s soon.

Tonight, you’re restless, tossing and turning in your makeshift bed, replaying fragments of your old life—a love that once felt solid, a future that had once felt certain. Your mind drifts to those last conversations with Jiyong, your ex, the ones where he shut down every hope you had for a family, making you wonder if wanting more was somehow wrong.

You probably deserve it, though. You want a family, but you can barely cook for yourself. What do you hope to feed a child—takeout? Junk food? It’s laughable. You can’t even make a home feel like one. Jiyong probably got tired of you because you’re useless at it.

Stop. You close your eyes, focus on your breathing, try to still your mind. 1, 2, 3…

Some nights, you especially hate yourself. Tonight is one of them.

You need to call Namjoon. He can usually talk you down, ease the self-loathing. You ring him three times, but each time, you get his voicemail. Fuck. Maybe he’s out, maybe he’s getting laid. Good for him, honestly.

But that might actually work. You rummage through one of your boxes and find the one purple bullet that’s gotten you through plenty of spirals. With a flick, the vibrator buzzes to life, and you slip it beneath your panties, pressing it right against your clit. You’re not in the mood to drag this out—you want release, quick and easy, something to take the edge off.

At first, your limbs relax as that familiar tingle begins, little sparks shooting from your core, teasing you with hints of pleasure. You keep at it, determined, but after a few minutes, the sensations stall. It’s like your body’s stuck, lingering on the edge without tipping over, leaving you stranded and more frustrated than when you started. You decide to cut your losses.

Maybe a shower. Maybe you can pop by the GS25 down the block for a bottle of soju.

But then your phone pings. It’s Yoongi.

Your tummy suddenly feels funny.

You immediately swipe up and read the string of messages that has popped on your Kakao.

Yoongi: Hey so I found this in Haneul’s crib Yoongi: image.jpg  Yoongi: u got this for him? he is lowkey obsessed. Yoongi: But WTF is it? 

You cackle. Loud and hearty. A sound you didn’t think you were capable of on a shitty night like this.

You: A capybara! Look it up! Yoongi: Oh Yoongi: never heard of it You: They’re cute Yoongi: ? You: Don't be mean You: Haneul and I love bora Yoongi: ?? You: thats her name Yoongi: noted

That night, the Kakao thread becomes your lifeline. Yoongi asks about your next visit, what you had for dinner, and when you say goodnight he sends back a grainy selca of him and a sleeping Haneul with Bora. The photo brings unexpected joy, something to remind you that you aren’t as alone as it sometimes feels. Finally, you succumb to slumber, clutching your phone to your chest, thoughts of Yoongi and Haneul floating in your dreams.

After that, you become more and more aware that Yoongi’s place has become a sanctuary. There’s Haneul’s bright laughter, the way his tiny fingers curl around yours, and the sound of Yoongi’s soft, steady voice, creating a background that somehow starts to feel comforting. With them, you’re too busy to dwell on the past or the ache left behind by someone else’s rejection. Instead, you’re present, stable.

And it’s in those moments—when you’re reading Haneul a story or soothing him to sleep—that you feel a glimmer of something you’d thought you’d lost: hope. The simple act of holding him, soothing him through his small struggles… It’s healing in a way you can’t quite put into words, as if this little boy is slowly fusing pieces of your heart you’d almost forgotten were broken.

And Yoongi—he’s part of it, too. His presence, his quiet strength, the way he’s trusted you with something so precious. 

You know this is just a phase, that this isn’t your life, but a part of you can’t help but imagine what it would be like if it were. To be here, day after day, with this little family that’s somehow found its way into your heart.

You’re still healing, still putting yourself back together, but this—this feels like the start of something you could believe in again.

What you couldn’t believe though was the email from your building administrator with an acknowledgment receipt for next quarter’s rent payment—all settled. You haven’t made the deposit yet, how come it’s saying it’s been paid for already?

You pace your room staring at the email from your phone as if it holds all the answers. 

What is happening? Who paid for this? You didn’t sign up for some sugar baby service… 

Wait. Something clicks in your brain. Suga. Baby.

Your first instinct is to call Namjoon, meddler extrordinaire. He picks up on the second ring, sounding annoyingly chipper.

“‘Sup, buttercup?” he asks.

“Don’t act cute, Joonie,” you warn. “Did you know about this?”

There’s a pause. “About what, exactly?”

“Yoongi,” you say, practically hissing his name. “He paid my rent, didn’t he? Three months’ worth. How did he even know where I live?”

Namjoon lets out a hum, his tone maddeningly calm. “Ah. That.”

“Yes. That. Care to explain?”

“Look,” Namjoon says, unbothered. “Yoongi asked, so I gave him your address. He said you refused his offer, but still he wanted to pay you back somehow.”

“But Joon! It’s too much—” You pause, scrambling for the right words. “How did he even get a hold of the landlord and settle all this without my knowledge?”

Namjoon chuckles, which only makes you more annoyed. “Yoongi hyung is an influential guy, you know. If he wants something, he’ll fuckin’ find a way. Just take it, okay? You’re helping him, he’s helping you. It’s fair.”

You huff, still not convinced. “It’s just… a lot, Joon. I don’t need anyone swooping in and paying my bills. And you could’ve at least warned me.”

“I get it. But you’re helping him with something really important. This is his way of saying thank you.”

You sink back into your chair, the irritation draining out of you. “Fine,” you mutter. “But if he pulls something like this again, I’m coming for your ass.”

Namjoon laughs. “Aishh. Why the hell is it my fault?”

“You’re a smart man. Figure it out.” You hang up.

You spend that afternoon at Yoongi's. He was in a rush, dashing out for some shoot as you arrive. You hear him return around seven, just as you're finishing putting Haneul to sleep. Once the baby is settled, you tiptoe out of the nursery with the baby monitor on hand, following the sounds of soft clinking and the rich aroma wafting from the kitchen.

“Hey, Yoongi,” you call out, stepping into view. “Haneul’s all tucked in. I was just gonna—”

“Stay for dinner?” Yoongi’s eyes light up, his voice gentle but hopeful as he turns, holding a pot in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. It looks like he came straight from his shoot, his hair still styled in soft, precise waves that swoop perfectly across his cheekbones. He’s wearing the softest, oversized yellow sweater layered over a crisp white shirt, and his jeans hug him just right. But it’s his smile that really draws you in—light radiates from him, his face glowing not just from a bit of skincare, but from something more.

Goddamn. The man is looking fine as hell.

You’d planned to meet up with Namjoon tonight, but one look at Yoongi—whose eyes are too shy to hold yours as he ladles red sauce into a ceramic bowl—and you know you are absolutely staying put. Joon will understand.

“Ok, yeah, that looks really good,” you say.

“It is.” Yoongi smirks, just barely, and gestures to the fridge. “I’ll plate this up if you can grab some drinks?”

You procure a couple of beers from the chiller and set them on the dining table, shooting off a quick text to Joon afterwards.

You: Hey, raincheck? Yoongi made dinner and it looks good ngl

His response is instant.

Namjoon: You blowing me off to play house with hyung. K. I see how it is.

This asshole.

You’re about to call and give him a piece of your mind when Yoongi’s voice pulls you back. “Everything okay?”

Your gaze shifts to the plates of spaghetti he’s just set down, the aroma working wonders to sway your thoughts. “Yeah, just Joon being a pain in my ass as usual.”

“Sit.” Yoongi gestures to your chair as he settles into his.

“Wait.” You grab the baby monitor from the kitchen counter, setting it between you and Yoongi. The screen shows Haneul fast asleep, Bora tucked securely under his arm.

“There. Now we can eat.”

Yoongi nods, and the two of you dig in.

It hits you that this is actually the first time the two of you have shared a quiet dinner together like this. You were expecting Yoongi to let the silence linger, but he starts a conversation mid-way.

“I, uh, was surprised to see you back here,” he says casually, twirling a forkful of pasta.

“Me too. It was… kind of abrupt.”

He nods, not pressing, just listening. You don’t think you’re ready to talk about that so you try a joke.

“Didn’t think you’d ever see the girl who carried your performance of Stan?” you add, smirking. “I basically launched your career.”

“Carried?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Nah, you were choking.”

“Hell no.”

“Uh-huh.” He laughs softly, shoulders bobbing. “Rewriting history….”

“Fine. I sucked. Joon totally went behind my back with that one. Not that he’s the only one who likes going behind my back,” you add pointedly, of course alluding to the matter of your paid-off rent.

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, looking almost guilty. “Sorry for overstepping.”

“Just don’t start paying my utilities behind my back, too. Because—”

He shifts awkwardly, avoiding your gaze.

“Yoongi?”

He clears his throat. “Just your electricity. I… may have asked the landlord to include it this month.”

“Oh my god.”

“And water,” he adds quickly, eyes widening like a kid who just got caught.

“Add my Netflix subscription while you’re at it.”

“Done.”

“NO!!! You’re actually worse than Joonie,” you groan, though a smile quirks at your lips. “But, thank you:”

He nods, briefly pausing before he speaks up again, a little too flippantly. “So… you and Namjoonie—what’s the deal there?”

You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking somewhere over your shoulder. “You know what we all think? That he’s playing some kind of long game with you.”

You wrinkle your nose, laughing. “Oh god, no. Y’all are waayyy off. Namjoon’s like my brother, that’s it.”

Yoongi nods slowly, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips as he watches you.

“Everyone thinks that, huh?” you ask, leaning in, a little bolder than usual.

“Mhmm.” Yoongi gives a slow nod, as he nibbles his lower lip.

“All the members?”

“Yeah,” he says, watching you carefully.

“Including you?”

He shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, though something shifts in his expression, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle he didn’t know existed.

“Interesting,” you murmur, swirling your glass.

“Why?” he narrows his eyes on you, wheels turning in his head.

Maybe it’s the beer loosening you up, bubbles lifting your usual filters. You’ve always been a lightweight.

“You never wondered why Joonie suddenly set you up for English tutoring with me—just you—even though your company had a professional hired to teach everyone?”

He blinks, eyes narrowing a bit more.

“Or why I ended up singing with you at that damn club?” You laugh, leaning back.

His lips mold into a small pout, processing, but you’re already laughing.

“Joonie’s been throwing me into your orbit, Yoongi,” you say, giggling, the alcohol hitting you hard now. “And you’re telling me you never noticed?”

He looks like he’s having a full conversation with himself, his mouth opening and closing like a stunned goldfish inside a gallon bottle. All he manages is an eloquent: “shit.”

“Well, for the record,” you pause, “I thought you were cute, but it was obvious you weren’t interested. Don’t worry, though,” you say lightly, glancing down on your almost empty plate. “I’m a big girl now. It’s all in the past.”

As you stab the last meatball, you miss the way Yoongi’s gaze softens.

You have no way of knowing what’s going through his head. But if you did, you would find that he’s thinking:

If he could go back in time, he’d kick his younger self straight in the balls for not noticing, and tell him to get his head out of his ass long enough to realize this one shocking truth: 

You were not Namjoon’s girl.

And he actually had a chance with you.

Because maybe you’re right. Back then everything was about the dream—y’know, big house, big cars, big rings, and all that shit. So yeah, maybe, he wasn’t ready then.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t now.

Notes: Oh-KKKAYYY!! How are we feeling? Anything you liked in particular in this chapter? Where is the baby mama? Do we even care atp?!

Part 2 is where things get more flirty, spicy, and all that good stuff.

Tell me your thoughts and theories. See you in the comments! <333

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful, human 💕🫶🏼

You can sign up for my permanent taglist here so you can be notified when I post updates to this story and more.

Part Two >

Taglist:

@yoongznme @nnybtitts08 @rinkud @nbjch05 @perfectiondazesworld

@marnz1990 @mxrauds @queenbloody @jadestonedaeho7 @futuristicenemychaos

@direnediane @glossdebut @maryhopemei @theresstardustinmyblood @mggv97

@wobblewobble822 @kam9404 @supernoonanyc @damn-u-min-yoongi @ot72025

@busanbby-jjk @granataepfelchen @jajabro @tarahardcore @marihoneywk

@ryryvna @tea4sykes @mar-lo-pap @lilkittenjenjen

@captainchrisstan @thelittlecatonthecake @flaneuseonthestreets @sexytholland @diamonddia-mond

@yronathaniel @as-hs-blog @amarssfanfic @mafersame @amarawayne

@eurydiceofterabithia

Sorry if I'm unable to tag you. Did my best to include everyone who commented and asked!

[mcflymemes]

ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE (2001) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

it's been my experience when you hit bottom, the only place left to go is up.

i sleep in the nude.

about time someone hit him. i'm sorry it wasn't me.

i didn't say it was the smart thing, but it is the right thing.

i came down the chimney. ho ho ho.

we've done a lot of things we're not proud of. robbing graves, plundering tombs, double parking... but nobody got hurt.

maybe somebody got hurt, but nobody we knew.

will you look at the size of this? it's gotta be half a mile high at least.

our lives are remembered by the gifts we leave our children.

you're so skinny, if you turned sideways and stuck out your tongue, you'd look like a zipper.

hey look, i made a bridge.

as far as me goes, i just like to blow things up.

come on. tell the kid the truth.

does it match my dress?

it was like a sign from god.

i got your four basic food groups: beans, bacon, whiskey, and lard.

you have disturbed the dirt.

what have you done?

if you give back every stolen artifact from a museum, you'd be left with an empty building.

i gotta admit, i'm disappointed.

you ask too many questions!

who are you? who sent you?

do not be such a crybaby.

now tell me your story, my little friend.

trust me on this one. you don't wanna know.

if you're looking for the pony rides, they're back there.

what else have you got in there?

forget your jammies, [name]?

you're gonna want a pair of these.

i think we've seen how effective my decisions have been.

have i left anything out?

you did set the camp on fire and drop us down that big hole.

i took this job when my dad retired.

you are a scholar, are you not?

who told you that?

let's go over it again, just so we got it straight.

we're all gonna die.

someone needs to talk to that girl.

for the good of the mission, i will go!

tonight's supper will be baked beans. musical program to follow.

hey, i had nothing to do with it.

i'll have to quit my job.

you didn't just drink that, did you?

don't move, don't breathe, don't do anything...

carrots? why it it always carrots?

with something like that, i would have white wine.

we can't let him do this!

okay, now you can go.

how was my accent?

we are not thriving.

where are you going?

don't take no for an answer.

look, i have some questions for you, and i'm not leaving this city until they're answered.

somebody's gonna have to suck out this poison.

i thought you said he only had guns!

mercenary? i prefer the term "adventure capitalist."

do you wanna do my job? be my guest.

i'm gonna need you to fill these up.

thank god i lost my sense of taste years ago.

why don't you translate, and i'll wave the gun around.

this was not part of the plan.

you do swim, do you not?

your heart has softened.

you would have slain them on sight.

what they have to teach us, we have already learned.

something wrong with your neck?

so i guess this is how it ends? fine. you win.

get back! i've got soap, and i'm not afraid to use it!

look at all those tattoos!

i've got a bone to pick with you.

any last words?

i really wish i had a better idea than this.

i know i'm forgetting something.

you're the one who got us here.

you must've read it a dozen times by now.

sometimes i get a little carried away.

all will be well. be not afraid.

i hate fishing. i hate fish. hate the taste, hate the smell, hate all them little bones.

you will not regret this!

hard to believe he's still single.

can you drive a truck?

no time like the present.

i love it when we win.

you pick now of all times to grow a conscience?

[bitethedevil]

Raphael going to a noble party of some kind, disguised as a human, in order to find and schmooze with current and potential clients. While engaging with one such individual who seems particularly taken with him, from across the room he spots Tav, for once not dressed in adventurer's gear but decorated with finery. The Hero of Baldur's Gate is so radiant that, at a glance, one could be forgiven for mistaking the mortal as an angel in disguise. However, like the cambion, Tav also has noble-born partygoers vying for their attention, asking (and more often than not being granted) a dance with the hero, and perhaps gossip of nobles approaching the hero with dowry proposals and attempts at wooing this illustrious guest begin to reach the fiend's ears.

Thank you for the prompt! <3 Super interesting. This is just Raphael being Raphael pretty much. It's not super edited so bear with me.

And to others who have also sent me prompts: I have gotten so many of them! I'm very grateful and I'll try my best to get to as many of them as I can, though I have already warned that I am pretty slow.

Revenge (SFW)

Viola Gist, an elderly member of the Gist family who had run the trade of dyes in Baldur’s Gate, was talking Raphael’s ear off in the corner of the grand ball room. Nobles from all over the city had gathered in High Hall for one of the city’s annual balls.

Raphael was dressed in his best as always and managed to fit in so well that no one ever bothered to question if he actually belonged to the nobility of Baldur’s Gate. It was an art he had perfected many centuries ago. He rarely needed an invitation to go anywhere.

It was even easier when he happened to know quite a few people there. There was not a family in the Gate that he had not dealt with at some point. The ones who knew what he was kept wonderfully quiet, for no noble wanted to confess that they had asked for the help of a devil to keep their place far above heads of the smallfolk.

In fact, Lady Gist’s late husband himself had been a client of his and his soul was currently stashed away in his House of Hope. It seemed that his wife had moved on rather quickly, with the way she was dressed and the looks she was giving Raphael.

He indulged her, of course, with his smiles and charming comments. Her soul was not worth much, but what could he say? He was a collector, and he did love the idea of having the full set. Was their son and heir as gullible as his parents, he could be tempted to swing by to get him too in a couple of years.

Viola Gist kept blathering on while he tried his best to look intensely interested in what she said. He already had her. He was sure that all she needed was the tiniest push to convince her to sign his contract. Lady Gist was interrupted by some commotion behind her. Raphael raised an eyebrow and looked to where people seemed to be gathering around something or someone.

“Oh, it’s her,” the elderly lady said with a sneer after looking over her shoulder. “Can you imagine that? She was barely even raised in the city and now that she has returned, everyone is fawning over her for her hand in marriage. Between you and me, she might have the Sashenstar name, but she is truly only a distant relative to the main family.”

“Indeed? What a shame,” Raphael said and smiled at her. “The men of Baldur’s Gate surely must have terrible taste to hunt for anything new and shiny when there is such a magnificent jewel such as yourself right in front of them.”

His flirtations worked like a charm. Lady Gist blushed and giggled like a woman at least 40 years younger than what she actually was.

“It’s kind of you to say,” she said with that shrill giggle of hers. “Furthermore, I have been raised like a lady. You would not see me traversing through the wilderness with strangers, killing creatures of any sort like some brute.”

An odd description, Raphael thought.

“A brute, you say?” he asked. “What is the lady’s name?”

Lady Gist looked like she was trying to remember.

“Oh, it’s some dreadfully simple name,” she said and looked at the floor as she was thinking. “I don’t recall. It’s that girl that saved the city, or so they say. Mav? Tav?”

Raphael’s eyes widened slightly.

“Tav?” he asked slowly. “Tav…Sashenstar?”

“Yes, her,” Lady Gist said and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.

That was news to him. He had done so much careful digging on the adventurers back then, but the fact that the little mouse who had snubbed him of his crown was a noble had not come up.

He looked through the crowd over the Lady’s shoulder. There she was, being almost smothered by suitors, wearing a dress, looking…presentable. Raphael might not have recognized her had he not been told she was there. Her smile was strained but polite as she greeted the people around her. She was rather pretty when she was not dressed in shabby armor and her hair did not look like a rat’s nest, he thought.

He had not seen her for so long. He had of course heard about their success with defeating the Netherbrain and everything that had happened after. He also knew who the Crown of Karsus had been given to and how that had ended. Perhaps there was an opportunity here…

Tav looked over the crowd and her eyes fell on Raphael. Her eyes widened completely and the smile on her lips fell when she saw him. She immediately averted her eyes from him, acting like she never saw him. Raphael smiled widely.

“We will talk again later, Viola,” he said and kissed Lady Gist’s hand. “There is an old associate that I simply must talk to.”

Tav had almost forgotten about him amongst all the noise and all the people, particularly young men, who wanted to speak and dance with her. She was dancing with a young man who was her age. He seemed nice, but like all the others, he was dreadfully boring, and it was so painfully clear that he was trying to sell himself to her. She hated it. She hated all of it.

The music finally stopped, and she was freed from him. She smiled politely to him before curtsying. When she turned around, someone grasped around her waist and caught her hand as the next song started. She looked up and panicked. She tried to move away but Raphael’s grip on her waist was firm.

“Ah-ah, dear,” he said and began to lead the dance. “No reason to cause a scene.”

She was still staring at him with wide eyes and dug her nails into his shoulder as he lead the dance with complete ease.

“Why are you here?” she asked hurriedly with a frown while trying not to fall over her own feet.

“I am working,” he answered with a smile. “I would ask why you are here, but word travels quickly in these circles. It’s been a while, hasn’t it, dear? Does the noble life suit you?”

“I don’t need anything, and you are not getting my soul.”

Raphael chuckled deeply.

“You wound me, dear,” he said and spun her around. “Is it truly such an impossible thought that I simply wanted to hear how you were faring?”

“Yes,” she quickly answered. “I’m fine. I’m doing wonderful.”

“Splendid,” he purred with a smile. “Although…I am terribly sorry to hear about your little sweetheart. The God of Ambition, was it? At least it must be to some relief to you that one of you got what you wanted.”

She stepped down hard on Raphael’s foot. He groaned and tightened his grip on her.

“Whoops,” she said and smiled spitefully at him. “I’m still getting the hang of this dancing thing, I’m afraid.”

“Mm, yes. How clumsy of you,” he grumbled and then continued talking. “And now you are to be married to one of these fine men in here. Has anyone caught your eye?”

“You know I could just tell everyone in here what you are,” she warned.

“So no,” Raphael sighed. “Marriage…Such a dull concept, isn’t it? You have seen horrors beyond most mortal’s comprehension, beaten terrible odds, saved the world, and now you are soon to be a noble lady. Sitting pretty beside some fat patriar. Is that truly what you want?”

She looked at him with anger in her eyes. He knew the answer to his question, of course, but she was all too easy to rile up.

“I wanted him,” she confessed quietly with a frown. “That’s all I wanted.”

“And all he wanted was the crown,” Raphael said with feigned sympathy. “Now Gale Dekarios is a god of the Heavens. He got everything he wanted, and yet you lost the man you loved, and I the crown I craved for centuries. Poor us. Fate is cruel, my dear.”

She sneered at him. The song finally came to an end and Raphael let her go. He smirked at her and bowed. She headed straight for the balcony, grabbing a glass of champagne on her way. Raphael followed. She was not going to escape him so easily.

“You look stunning tonight, by the way,” she heard Raphael’s voice from behind her. “Any of these poor fools would be lucky to have you.”

She looked over her shoulder and glared at him.

“Piss off, devil,” she grumbled and took a sip of her champagne.

“I see that your dancing is not the only thing you will have to work on,” he said with a chuckle and leaned against the balcony railing beside her. “Those manners of yours are horrendous as ever. Hardly befitting of a noble lady.”

She leaned her back against the railing and looked at him with her arms crossed and a furious frown on her face.

“I know what you are doing, you know.”

“Oh? What am I doing, my dear?” Raphael asked with a wide smile at her.

“You are trying to lure me into something,” she said. “Trying to remind me of my past, what I lost, but oh you can ‘help’, isn’t that right? You can make it all go away and make me happy again, if only I sign my name on one of your contracts. So, I reiterate: Piss off.”

Someone was on their way out to the balcony. One of her suitors from the look of recognition in the young man’s eyes. Raphael snapped and made the door close and lock in his face without even looking over his shoulder.

“You have me all figured out, haven’t you?” Raphael purred. “No, Tav. I simply stumbled upon an old client who seems miserable with the way that everything has turned out. No matter how much you smile in there, you cannot convince me that this life is something you want.”

“It’s none of your concern,” she said firmly.

“Oh, but it pains me to see people like yourself drenched in so much misery,” he cooed with feigned sympathy. “And it is miserable, isn’t it? To be so close to greatness just to have it snatched away again and be forced to face the same old dreadful sense of normalcy in one’s life.”

It bothered her to no end to have him compare losing the Crown of Karsus to her losing the love of her life. She knew that a part of him was just taunting her for not making the choice of giving the Crown of Karsus to him, because things would have been different if she did. Gale would never have ascended if she had.

“We are not the same,” she said. “And I really do not need your shoulder to cry on.”

“Perish the thought. I am not pitying you. I am simply saying that we are not so different after all. We are simply…” he waved a hand as he looked for the right word. “Talking…Bonding. Isn’t that what your sort calls it?”

“Bonding?” she said and wrinkled her nose at the absurdity of his words. “Spare me your annoying sales tactics and get to the point. What do you want?”

“You,” he said casually and carefully caught her hand with his. “Not your hand in marriage, you understand, though I am sure the two of us could have an awful lot of fun together, and ambitious men do seem to be your type…”

When she did not remove her hand, Raphael smiled and snaked his other hand around her waist. He had her right where he wanted her, and his little theory had been correct: she was lonely, and she was desperate. He was almost salivating at the thought.

“I am proposing a partnership of a different sort entirely,” he purred and wrapped both of his arms around her waist. “One that can reignite that spark in your eyes and take you far away from this dull new life of yours. You won’t even have to give me your soul. You simply have to answer one little question…”

She was looking up at him with expectant eyes. She was interested and there was no doubt about it.

“What?” she asked.

“Your lover left you to pursue greater things,” Raphael stated and ran his hand slowly up and down her back. “You tried to convince him not to, but he didn’t listen to you. He left you here, all alone, forced to go back to a life you never wanted in the first place because you did not share his ambition. My question is this: do you still only want him, or is it something else you crave now? Is it love…or is it revenge you are after?”

Her breathing got slightly heavier as she thought, as if caught up in conflicting emotions.

“Revenge,” she admitted in a quiet voice after a while.

“Good,” Raphael purred with a wicked smile. “Then it is settled, is it not? I want the crown and you want revenge. You are possibly the only person he would ever let into the Heavens. We can both get what we want and let me assure you, I never forget those who helped me to power like your dear Gale did.”

“I’m not sure,” she said quietly as she looked up at him. “Gale is a god now. He might be watching over me. That could be a hindrance in your little plan.”

They were standing so close now and the way her eyes ever so briefly went to his lips did not go past him. He could easily give her a taste of that revenge she so desperately wanted, just to draw her in further.

“Indeed. He might be,” Raphael purred and smiled. “Should we give him a show then?”

Raphael pushed her further back against the railing with his body. One of his hands went to the back of her neck as he pulled her in for a kiss. She kissed him back eagerly. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled him in further. It was a hungry kiss.

Raphael was no fool. He knew that it was all simply to anger her old flame, but that did not mean that he didn’t thoroughly enjoy her enthusiasm. They stopped when they heard a knock on the door to the balcony. They both looked and saw a group of nobles looking at them through the glass window.

Tav was blushing when Raphael looked back at her. He smiled and snapped his fingers to take them away to the House of Hope to further discuss their plans, away from the nobles and gods who might have been listening.

[halfbloodfics]

Hi! Since requests are open, here’s a prompt I’ve been fiddling for a while. I crafted this for my OC but I’d love to see how you’d portray it.

This is where reader is either interning or becomes Pomfrey’s assistant. Either his Snakes or Harry (Severitus) decide that Snape needs more friends and orchestrate a plan to get Snape and reader alone. Little did they know that they had been inadvertently playing matchmaker.

The original idea is multiple meetings over the course of a school year, but Snape or reader could very well hit it off the first meeting. That’s up to you :)

Thanks!

im a sucker for a good shy snape has a crush on y/n. absolutely.

warnings: none :) brief mention of broken bones, takes place during Harry's 4th year, but no voldemort bc im too emotionally weak for that

PART ONE: Meddling Snakes

(I''m going to divide this into two parts, so it can be a little longer xx)

~

~

October 1st. 1994.

The leaves were turning colours. Outside the window, in the courtyard, a mirage of orange and yellow painted the sky and ground. With a particularly strong gust of wind, several more leaves fell from the trees and joined the others on the grass. Fall was here at last.

A voice from behind drew you out of your daydreams.

"Madam Y/L/N." Pomfrey's voice cut out from the silence. You turned around to see her looking at you with a soft expression.

You shook your head gently. "My apologies. What is it you were saying?" You spoke.

A small smile graced her lips. "No need to apologize, dear. I just need you to run a quick errand for me, if that's no trouble."

"Of course." You nodded, eager to help.

She extended her hand to you, revealing a small jar with a stone-like mass inside. She shook it, gently rattling the object.

"This is a bezoar." She said. "I'm sure you already know what it is."

You nodded. Your first month at Hogwarts as Pomfreys assistant had gone quickly, and you had already become accostomed to how often the students here seemed to end up in the medical wing. Surprisingly, you hadn't needed to use a bezoar yet, but your previous education was enough to understand how rare and effective they were.

She nodded approvingly, reaching out and placing the jar gently in your hands. "Take this to Professor Snape, in the dungeons. He's needing it for one of his lessons."

You looked down at the jar, at the odd, lumpy object inside, your hands tracing the glass. "Of course. I'll be right back."

~

The dungeons were always the most freezing part of the castle. The first of October and already the temperature was dropping, not that it made much of a difference down here anyways.

You crossed your arms against your chest as you walked through the freezer of Hogwarts, the jar with the bezoar in your apron.

Footsteps echoing throughout the silent corridors, you made your way to the potions classroom.

As the door was already open, you stood in the doorway and knocked gently.

A tall man in a long black cape and black robes stood at the front of the class. At your knock, the man turned to face you, looking you over with an almost suspicious glance. His dark eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable.

"Excuse me, Professor." You started, looking around the classroom at the group of fourth year Slytherin and Gryffindor students. "Madam Pomfrey sent me to give you this."

You reached into your apron, pulling out the jar with the Bezoar. His eyes flicked down to it before he gestured over to the desk where he stood.

You approached, placed the jar carefully in front of him. He did not look at you again, continuing his lesson without so much as a thank you.

~

As soon as you left, a group of Slytherin boys began to exhange knowing looks. Among them, a blonde-haired boy named Draco Malfoy leaned in. "That's Pomfrey's new assistant." He murmered.

The other boys looked at him. "Is she?" One of them asked.

Another one nodded. "Remember when I fell of my broom two weeks ago? Yea, she's the one that mended it. Humbling moment on my end, if I must say so." He added.

Malfoy leaned in closer, the lot of em leaning in around him. "She isn't too bad looking..."

One of the boys scoffed. "Yea right Malfoy, cause you got a chance."

"Not for me you dim-wit!" He hissed, pausing as Professor Snape shot them a warning glare to shut up and pay attention.

Draco dropped his voice to a whisper, slowly flicking his gaze between the boys. "For Snape."

All their heads jerked back to face him now, their expressions a mix of confusion and amusement.

"Snape?" One of them whispered.

He nodded, looking rather smug as he leaned back in his chair. "Do him some good. Maybe he'll loosen up, finally relax a little more. Merlin knows he needs it. Give us a break from these bloody papers he always making us write..."

The others looked amongst themselves, realising he was serious.

One of them spoke: "What are you planning exactly..."

The Malfoy boy only shrugged, a small smirk on his lips as he looked up at the unknowing professor. "I got a couple ideas."

~

November 1st. 1994.

You sat in the medical ward beside the bed of a Slytherin boy who had, for the second time this year, managed to break his right arm playing qudditch.

You'd learned from Pomfrey how to mend bones. It was significantly easier than regrowing bones, as she'd thouroughly explained, and so once again you found the task rather simple.

"This might hurt for a moment... But afterwards, you should feel fine. As long as you're gentle with it." You said softly, your fingertips lightly holding the wounded arm so as to not put pressure on it.

The boy winced at your touch, but he nodded, giving you the okay to go through with it. With your wand out, you casted the spell, the sounds of cracking bones filling the otherwise empty medical ward. He cried out, briefly, before the cracking stopped and his arm was back in one shape.

"Hurt that much, Blaise?" Came a voice from behind.

You turned to see the boy you recognized as Draco Malfoy, standing in front of Professor Snape, who was watching the Slytherin on the bed with a blank expression, his gaze flicking over to you, only momentarily.

The boy, Blaise, made a sort of dismissive grunt. In the corner of your eye, you noticed him raise his mended arm weakly.

"All better, thanks to Madam Y/L/N." He said.

You smiled slightly at him before directing your attention back to Malfoy and Snape.

As if noticing the unspoken question in your mind, Malfoy opened his mouth: "Well, Professor Snape was just wondering how our Chaser is doing, if he'll still be alright to beat Gryffindor at tomorrows match."

Snape blinked, turning his gaze to Malfoy, his expression a mix of confusion and suspicion.

The feeling overcame you that he also didn't fully understand why he was here.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could Zabini rose to his feet and grabbed his robes, giving you a small smile and more or less speed-walking over to join Malfoy.

"Thank you, Madam Y/L/N!" He called, as the two of them left rather quickly, opening the doors and rushing out the infarmary.

The echo of the door slamming filled the room. It was now only you and Professor Snape in the ward. The both of you looking at each other with a confused expression.

You cleared your throat, attempting to shake off the confusion. "He should be alright to play tomorrow, Professor. But that is the second time this term that he has broken that arm. He should more careful." You spoke, your voice soft.

Professor Snape looked at you, his eyes on yours. After a seemingly long moment, he spoke: "I'll see to it that he is more... Attentive to his mortality."

The sarcastic comment drew a laugh out of you before you could surpress it. It was amusing to you, how this intimidating, stoic man who you'd never had a proper conversation with, somehow had a sense of humour. A quite dry one, but a sense of humour none the less.

His left eyebrow twitched up. You shut up.

"Apologies, professor." You started. "Is it insulting to say I didn't expect you to be humorus?

A small, almost unnoticable smirk flashed across his face. "I've heard worse." He said bluntly.

You bit your lip to surpress another laugh. You weren't sure what it is about him saying the simplest, unfunny phrases. Perhaps it was your nerves, your anxieties of being new here and having no one else to talk to aside from Pomfrey driving you to the point of desperation for some form of friendly interaction.

You looked at him again, taking in the way he was standing in front of the closed door, his hands clasped together in front of him. It was the first time you had taken a proper look at him and you were just noticing the depth of his eyes, his height, the way his hair fell against his shoulders...

No.

You blinked, cleared your throat again.

"Anyways. Yes, Zabini should be fine to play tomorrow." You said at last.

Snape stared at you with a blank, unreadable expression, the trace of his smirk gone again. He nodded, briefly, before turning and reaching for the door.

"Wait." You said, gently.

He paused, turned to face you.

"I don't know if you have any... But considering you're the potions master I'm assuming you.. Might I borrow some books sometime? On potions?" The words came out soft upon your tongue. "I was hoping to learn how to brew remedies and antidotes myself."

Severus blinked, continuing to stare at you with that same blank expression before he nodded shortly. "I will bring them to you when time allows." He said.

A soft smile graced your lips.

"But," He spoke again. "You are new here. I won't have you wasting my ingredients because you don't know what you are doing. If you've found a specific potion you wish to brew.. Please visit me first."

The thought of spending time alone, with him watching you brew made your stomach flip. You were always decent at potions and your training had left you well educated, but this was a man who was more or less a genuis at them. Not to mention the fact that being in his presence terrified you.

Nodding, your hair fell slightly in front of your face. "Very well. Thank you, Professor."

He nodded curtly, before turning and opening the doors to the infirmary, leaving you alone with your anxieties.

You had some serious reading to do.

~

i'm going to make a part two to this soon, i just really wanted to be able to focus on drawing this out so that its as good as it can be cause im a sucker for a good: forced proximity, she fell first he fell harder, kinda slow burn xx.

thank u for the request!! <3

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 20: And In This Moment I Knew

Prompt: "I saw your eyes light up"

Scully remembers something Ethan said to her years ago when they broke up. Rating: T, wc: 826

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

This is their first sleepover – or rather, the first one they’ve planned. Neither of them is sick or injured and neither of them has fallen asleep on the couch in the middle of watching a movie or doing work.

Mulder is surprised at how much it tickles him. He has a girlfriend. He is a boyfriend. This hasn’t happened in longer than he cares to admit. And it’s Scully.

Their relationship is still so new that he gets giddy every time he sees her and gets to kiss her. Though that might just be because it’s her. Even before they started dating, he couldn’t wait to be around her and spend time with her.

Brushing his teeth next to her is the highlight of his day. He watches her so often that he forgets to move his toothbrush, just brushing the same tooth over and over again. Scully smiles at him through the mirror, and he’s convinced that this is what heaven must be like.

“Did I ever tell you that I was dating someone when we first started working together?” Scully asks once they’re both done and she’s starting an elaborate skin regime that he’s fascinated to observe.

“I remember.” He had seen the man once when he picked up Scully from the airport. They had needed to take different exits and said goodbye at the gate. Mulder had turned around, maybe wanting to say something like ‘see you on Monday’.

He never got the chance. He saw Scully and the other man—her boyfriend—share a friendly embrace, like two old friends. Back then, he hadn’t allowed himself to question it or have an opinion. Scully was just a co-worker, someone he was convinced had been sent to spy on him. He wore that idea like a well-worn coat for about a month. By then, her boyfriend was history, too.

“Ethan,” Scully goes on. “That was his name. I haven’t thought about him in years.”

“Why are you thinking about him now?” Mulder asks from the side of the tub where he’s sitting, waiting for her.

“I don’t know,” she admits, glancing at him. “Something he said back then. You know, I didn’t break up with him, he broke up with me.” That comes as a surprise to Mulder. He never thought much about the relationship. Scully never mentioned Ethan and then one day she said that she and her boyfriend had broken up. They hadn’t been friends yet and he didn’t feel like asking her about it.

“I’m not sure I follow. I hope you’re not worried I’m about to break up with you.” He tries to make light of the situation. Scully turns to him with a raised eyebrow. Her expression misses her mark because she’s entirely too cute with various face creams all over her face.

“That’s not it,” she assures him. “It’s a bit embarrassing.”

“I’m all ears.” He grins at her.

“I was looking forward to tonight.”

“So was I.”

“And then you got here and I-” she pauses and Mulder’s no longer sure this is a story he wants to hear. “I couldn’t stop smiling,” she finishes in a soft voice and he longs to cut in and declare his love for her. This is not his moment, though. She isn’t done recounting her story. There’s more to it. He can’t interrupt or rush her because if he does, chances are that she’ll retreat.

“It reminded me of Ethan. Or not of him, but of what he said when he broke up with me.” Mulder waits for her to go on, but she falls quiet. The only noise is the sound of her closing the jars she’s been using. He’s dying to ask, but he’s trying to be more patient. He watches her, hoping she’ll take pity on him.

“Scully?” he asks when he can’t hold it in any longer.

“You want to know what he said,” she says with a smile, stepping between his legs. He puts his hands on her hips and glances up at her.

“He said, and I quote ‘I saw your eyes light up when you talk about that Mulder guy’.”

“Me?” Mulder asks surprised and she nods. “We barely knew each other.”

“I know. I laughed it off. I didn’t believe him and thought he was reaching. I thought he was just saying it so he could blame me.”

“And now?”

“Now I think he may have been on to something,” she says quietly, running her fingers through his hair.

“I think so, too.”

“Should we send him a thank you note?” He thinks that maybe they should invite him to the wedding, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself and scare Scully off. It took them long enough to get to here.

“I’ll think about it. Now, let’s get to bed.” He silently thanks Ethan in his mind as he and Scully walk hand in hand into her bedroom.

[monzamash]

one of my kind — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 1.6k summary – getting high with daniel. warnings – 18+ (sex, coarse language, drug references) a/n – yay for the first instalment of the mm2k celebratioooon! shout out to the anon who sent this idea to me ages ago and to @percervall and another anon for sending me in prompts for daniel – love ya's!

It always ended like this – a web of tangled limbs, throats burning, tongues stoking the desire simmering somewhere deep within that was never set alight anywhere else, with anyone else. It was only ever a glance, knowingly across a room; catching bloodshot eyes and sending the signal. You both knew what you were doing, patiently waiting for the opportunity rarely given; supposedly distantly linked through mates, barely friends. Secretly fucking.

At every chance.

Too often for acquaintances.

But he had you floating in his cloud; covered in flames from the moment you walked in the room – dizzy from the promise of having him caught in yours. It was hypnotic the way you floated his way, natural; desperate to breathe in the sweet mix of spiced sandalwood and pot that was fused into your senses for the rest of time, giving you a fix that crawled across your skin; etched in your memory.

“How are ya?” He asked so nonchalant, so easy; as if he hadn’t been thinking about this since the moment you left his apartment in Los Angles weeks ago.

“Good, Daniel,” And desperately craving you, “How are you?”

The small talk was an act for your friends, for the people watching Daniel like a hawk – hidden in plain sight. It always began this way, pretence before the real show, before you snuck off to a quiet place – a bed, a couch or most often a bathroom, squeezed between a cold, chipping wall and the man who had you whimpering, begging to be touched.

It hasn’t been that long, he teased with no leg to stand on, sat back on a chaise lounge that had seen better days. Sunken and worn from the years of battering, witness to each cardinal sin – ruined like you were about to be. Daniel was hard to the touch when your fingertips traced the front of his pants, concealing the one thing that already had your eyes rolling, bewildered by the slurred promise whispered through his pearly smile.

“If you’re quiet, I can give you all of it, baby. None of this foreplay shit; the real deal. A promise that caused a chill to creep down your spine, fingers grasping every stitch of shirt between your thumping chests, nicotine lingering on your lips, his stained with your ruby red lipstick.

“Then don’t just sit there.”

You were impatiently standing between his knees, peering down through your lashes, fluttering and praying your desperation was endearing, not pathetic – attitude a plenty. And from the way Daniel leaned forward, grinning like a Cheshire cat and practically foaming at the mouth, you knew it was working. Intoxication and lust swirled into a cloud of arousal. Hormones hurried and sparks flying, cracking into the darkness and blowing away in the wind.

Fleeting. Temporary. A fix.

Daniel hiked up your skirt that had him plotting this moment from the second you walked through the door, laced panties barely covering any part of your pussy. As your thick thighs clenched his feverish hand, you needed his lips. A kiss from the devil in disguise, your kryptonite incarnate. Laid back, lazy smile, slurred Australian accent egging on your high as your hips rocked, separated from your mind.

“Use my thigh,” Daniel whispered, hoarse and gruff – a lump in his throat rivalling the one caged by the denim beneath.

“You’ve been looking at it all night anyways, haven’t ya?”

His suggestion caused a rippling moan to tumble, stifled by his thick neck you’d found yourself nuzzled into, sighing and moaning – messier than you would ever like to be with someone as majestic as Daniel. “I asked you a question.”

A hum was all you could manage, eyes closed as the high from the pipe you’d taken a hit from finally washed over you. That warm fuzzy feeling burning from your toes to the tips of your ears, a smile slowly slipping across your lips when you emerged from Daniel’s slick neck, pupils dark and blown out.

“But you promised it all, Danny.”

He laughed lowly, amused by the sweetness in your voice while your eyes told a different story entirely. He wanted you just as bad, cock twitching at the sound of your softly spoken words. Enamoured by your lazy movements, lapping against his dick, stiff beyond comprehension.

But of course you complied, desperately chasing some kind of release from the tension gathering in your stomach. Deeply entrenched and only awakened by the man guiding your sensitive clit against his tensed thigh. You’d never done this before, shamelessly gotten yourself off like this. It felt vulnerable when you dared to open your eyes, big brown doe ones staring back at you in awe.

“You are so fucking sexy.” Daniel doubled down, “Like, so sexy, I can’t cope.”

Your soft giggle escaped, causing his dimpled cheeks to deepen and hands to grip your bruising hips that little bit tighter, rocking you raw back and forth, angling you to the shape of his muscular thigh. Languidly building to the promise land, a string of moans lost to the quiet room. The only sounds were the soft hum of house music, clanking of glass bottles and your soft, silken cunt colliding with tanned, tattooed skin. Coming undone.

“I’ve been wondering what it feels like…” You huffed with stray hair sticking to your warm skin, hands desperately gripping Daniel’s strong shoulders and pulling yourself from his glistening skin.

“Like what feels like?”

All of this. All of you.

"Fucking you high."

"And?" Daniel asked, eyebrow quirked waiting for the verdict.

"So hot. Maybe too hot."

He hummed in agreement, tongue quickly swiping across his swollen lips, "Probably should be criminal." "I think it still is in some states..." You quipped, earning a genuine laugh from the man below. Enamoured by every thing you do.

Daniel peeled you apart, knees anchored beside his hips while you lined him up between your slick thighs, drenched with the thought of having him filling your tight hole. Finally, you muttered on your descent, feeling every curve, every bump, snug by your walls as you sunk down to his pelvis. A soft bated breath hitched beside your ear, husky and deep when you snapped your punishing hips, painfully perfect in every way. Sighing in synchronicity.

“Don’t tease.”

He loved to say things like that, a taunt for you to do exactly the opposite. A challenge to the finish line, racing for another kind of high – one that didn’t involve filling your lungs with smoke but just as dizzying. Daniel reached for the ashtray sitting on the arm of the lounge beside you, joint securely placed there while he attended to your needs.

And needy you were.

He placed the laxly rolled stick between his slightly parted lips, eyes never leaving yours as he took a drag and watched your neck turn a deep red. He loved you like this, pretty and wrecked because of him. Stealing the pleasure, taking what you wanted, taking over him. All of him, no inch left untouched. He swore he had died and gone to heaven when you snatched the joint from his mouth and placed it between your loose lips, sucking in the high and blowing it back into his face, smirk plastered across blushed cheeks while you watched his eyes close in aroused frustration.

“I’m gonna bust if you do shit like that,” He whispered, barely cracking a smile but you could see it. Subtle and just for you.

“Do it,” You pushed, “Come for me. Come inside me.”

Daniel looked up this time, a wicked laugh slipping past gritted teeth. He was trying to hold on, he was a gentleman after all – even if he was higher than a kite. But you looked like an angel fucking his dick; hands planted on his beating chest, tits bouncing under a shirt that was as sinful as the act itself. Thin and white, pert and fucking glorious. You were something else.

“You don’t want that mess, pretty girl. As much as it kills me to knock back that offer...” Daniel looked like a man tortured. Bitterly disappointed with the words leaving his own mouth as you sat back and rutted on his cock, egging him on just a little further until he grasped your arse in his palm, fingernails digging and making you wince, in pleasure and pain.

“Fine,” You huffed, eyes rolling, “Mouth?”

It was a simple question and it didn’t take long until you were swallowing the answer with teary eyes and the taste of him on your tongue. You loved it, really you did, watching him come undone, uncensored and on your knees – a front row seat. And of course Daniel made sure you got your fix with his mouth almost immediately attached to your cunt, making sure every single last drop was extracted before he came up for air – his stubbled chin glistening with the taste of you.

“You remind me of that INXS song,” He mumbled as you sat tangled together on the beaten up lounge, revelling in the brief silence before facing reality and sinking further into its secret-fuelled depths .

And seemingly into uncharted territory.

“Which one?”

The nest of curls on Daniel’s head brushed against the back of the lounge, smile lazy as he scanned your tired bloodshot eyes, “Need you tonight. You know, the sexy one?”

Your smile was coy, face burning again, “I’m familiar.”

“That’s a bitta’ you, I reckon.” His smirk grew larger the longer he watched you crumble and recoil from his stare, begrudgingly smitten.

It made sense for it to be your song. Steamy, sultry, frisky – sex almost always imminent when you found yourselves alone. Depraved and deprived, a dangerous cocktail of bad judgement. Is it a mistake if it happens more than once? More than a handful of times?

Or worse – what if it never stops?

“We’re cut from the same cloth, me and you,” He whispered, kiss pressed to your temple.

“You're one of my kind."

stay tuned for more one shots & blurbs celebrating the blog hitting 2k followers! thoughts? feelings? let me know! or click for more of my writing #monzamashmasterlist #mm2k

[scary-grace]

For the milestone thingy with shigaraki, 24 and 28!

Thank you so much for the prompt! I went a little crazy with this one, and I hope you like it! If anyone else wants to prompt me from this list for a Shigaraki fic, please feel free.

When a child from your settlement goes missing, you go willingly into the woods to rescue him from the entity that dwells there. You're not at all prepared for what you find. Based on the tale of Tam Lin. 7.1k words, afab reader, warnings for dubcon + smut. Prompts: 'whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin' +'feeling for each other in the dark'

Izuku’s been missing since noon, and you and the others are out of places to look. You’ve searched high and low, crawled into every closet and tight corner, and checked every building, outbuilding, and hole in the ground. You even risked the radio, calling to the next settlement fifty kilometers away, on a wild hope that someone had found him and taken him to the wrong place. You’ve asked everyone if they’ve seen him, and got the same answer – not since noon. Now the sun is setting, and you’re out of ideas. Except one.

You’re the one who raises it, because no one else will. “What if he went to the woods?”

“Why would he do that?” Yue looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “He knows better. They all know better.”

“Something could have enchanted him,” you argue. “We have to think of everything –”

“Nothing that’s supposed to stay in the woods ever comes out of it,” Rumi says. “That’s why we’re here instead of somewhere else.”

So much of the world is haunted now. You and the others are old enough to remember the way it was before, but the little kids have never known anything different. Fear of the woods isn’t learned for them, it’s instinctual. It’s hard to imagine that a kid like Izuku, a kid who follows the rules to a fault, a kid who’s always eager to please, would do something like this. But if there’s anything you know about the world as it is now, it’s that you can’t trust the rules to stay the same. Soon enough, they bend and warp, and there’s enough space between them for Hell itself to slip through.

Some say the creatures that claimed half the world seven years ago are demons, drawn up by humanity’s sins. Others think they’re aliens who’ve been watching Earth for eons, choosing to step in now for reasons incomprehensible to anyone but themselves. It’s easier to believe those things than the truth: They’re the Fair Folk, creatures of myths and fairytales the world over, who burst from hiding all at once and forced humanity to the brink in a seven-day war. Seven days. To you it shifted overnight.

Millions were lost. Any space where nature had been left to flourish became a stronghold for the Folk – forests, beaches, streams, mountains, fields, lakes. Deserts. Oceans. City parks. What the Folk couldn’t overrun, they destroyed; what they couldn’t destroy, they transformed. Even iron can’t protect against them, when there are enough of them, and they targeted the cities and towns first. That’s why you and the others were sent away. The Folk’s armies are merciless. The Folk who took up residence in the wild places are – less.

There are no truly safe places, but the settlement is as close as it gets – a cluster of buildings in the midst of a square mile blasted clean of anything wild, on the edge of a forest whose fey inhabitant never ventures out. As long as you don’t go into the woods, look at the woods, think about the woods for too long, you’re safe from him.

Or you thought you were. Fuyumi’s coming around to your way of thinking. “If Izuku’s in there, we have to go get him.”

“Are you crazy?” Natsuo crosses his arms over his chest, shakes his head. “I love that kid as much as any of us do, but if we go in there, we’re dead. That thing in there wants us more than it’ll ever want him.”

Manami wraps her arms tightly around herself, shivering. “Maybe we should call the grown-ups.”

“No,” you and everyone else says at once. Rumi keeps talking. “The radio’s too risky. The Folk can distort it. And we can’t distract them. What they’re doing is too important.”

“Besides,” Yue mumbles, “they left us in charge. We’re the grown-ups now.”

The military was decimated in the first round of fighting. Now the military, such as it is, consists of every able-bodied adult, no matter who they were before. Every able-bodied adult includes the parents of every single kid in the settlement, but someone has to take care of the kids during the three-quarters of the year where the adults are away. The older kids got the job, because in spite of the fact that all of you are old enough to vote and all of you could theoretically fight, you still count as underage in the eyes of the law. That makes you children to the Fair Folk. The Fair Folk love human children too much.

“We can’t call the adults. We looked everywhere. We can’t go to the woods,” Fuyumi says. “What are we supposed to do?”

“We don’t have proof he went to the woods,” Keigo says, speaking up for the first time. “Nobody goes in unless there’s proof.”

“How are we supposed to get proof?” Yue asks. “We already asked everyone.”

“Let’s ask again,” you say. “And let’s hurry. Whatever we do, we have to do it before dark.”

You and the others split up. Natsuo and Rumi go to quiz the oldest kids, while Fuyumi and Manami and Yue go to talk to the middle-graders. Keigo aims for the youngest kids; you go to the ones who would be in primary school if the world hadn’t ended. It’s Izuku’s age group. Even though he’s not popular, they’re more likely than anyone else to know where he is.

You asked them already, but this time, you’ve got specifics. “I know you don’t know where he went,” you say to them, once you’ve herded all of them into a corner to talk to. “I want to know what he’s been like over the past few days. Has he said anything about the woods?”

The reaction among the kids is instant, and it strikes fear and guilt into you like you’ve never felt before. “What did he say?” you ask. Head-shakes all around. “I need you to tell me. Izuku might be in big trouble. We can’t do anything to help him if we don’t know what happened.”

More head-shaking, from all the kids but one. Katsuki’s looking away from you, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw set. Of all the kids, Katsuki’s the one who likes Izuku the least, who picks on him the most. You and the others try to stop him, but you can’t be there every second. “Katsuki,” you say. He looks quickly at you, then looks away again. “What did Izuku say to you about the woods?”

“Deku’s a coward. He wouldn’t do it. I just said I’d stop if he –” Katsuki’s voice wavers. “I didn’t think he’d really go.”

You feel sick to your stomach. “Did you dare him to go into the woods?”

“And bring something back,” Katsuki says. “To prove it.”

It all comes together in your head, an awful picture you can’t look away from. What Izuku wants more than anything is to belong with the other kids, to have friends, and Katsuki’s the one who won’t let it happen. Promises hold more weight in this world than they used to. If he promised to leave Izuku alone, Izuku had good reason to trust it. But he dared Izuku to break two rules at once, two rules that are guaranteed to seal Izuku’s fate. Humans don’t trespass on the Folk’s territory without consequences. And they definitely don’t steal from them.

But you know where Izuku is for sure. Now there’s something you can do. “Stay here,” you order the kids, and you run to find the others.

“No,” Yue says, even before you’ve finished explaining. “We still can’t go in there.”

“We have to,” you say. “He’s just a kid –”

“So he’ll be safe,” Natsuo says. You stare at him. “If the stories are anything to go by, that thing’s not interested in kids. But you can bet he’d be interested in us.”

“The stories also say he can be bargained with,” you say. It gets quiet. “There’s no story about Tam Lin where he doesn’t let you make a deal.”

Part of the reason the settlement is here is that Tam Lin doesn’t leave the woods. The other part, never said but known all the same, is that unlike the other monsters from folklore, an encounter with Tam Lin doesn’t lead to death. You can walk away alive, so long as you and he come to an agreement. “No,” Keigo says. “Nothing ever goes well bargaining with the Folk. Especially not at night.”

“So you’d go in the morning?”

“I’d go in the morning,” Rumi says. “We could all go – or most of us, since somebody has to keep an eye on the kids –”

“What if he doesn’t have until morning?” you ask. It gets quiet again. “Time runs differently in their territory. We only know how long he’s been gone out here.”

“That’s just a rumor,” Natsuo says. “I say we go, some of us. In the morning.”

It’s a solid plan. You’d probably agree with it if there wasn’t this awful feeling in the pit of your stomach, the one that says Izuku has less time than you think, the one that says waiting until morning is waiting too long. There’s fear, and at the same time, there’s guilt. Guilt when you imagine Inko, Izuku’s mom, coming back from eight months of war to find her son gone. And even if it wasn’t for Inko, you know what kind of kid Izuku is. You know that if someone was in trouble, he’d run to help them, no matter how dangerous it was. You owe him the same.

“You can do what you want,” you say to the others. “I’m going now.”

“Are you crazy? You can’t just –”

“I know the stories. I know the rules. And I’ve still got things –” You touch the necklace your mother gave you before she died, the bracelet from your grandmother around your wrist. The idea of letting them go makes your heart ache, but for another person’s life, it’s not a question whether you’ll make the deal. “I still have things to trade. I can’t live with myself if I don’t go now.”

“You want to go get snatched by a faery? Fine.” Natsuo turns away, his jaw clenched. “My dad and my brother both tried this shit. You know how it went for them.”

“They didn’t try it with him,” you say. Natsuo walks away, and you face the others, forcing a smile onto your face. You hope you look brave. “Take care of the others. If I’m not back by nightfall, I’ll be back by morning. And so will Izuku.”

Promises made carry more weight in the world now. You take it as a good sign that you’re able to get the words out of your mouth without choking on them.

Crossing the border into the woods feels like entering another world. The Folk’s magic is so thick in the air that it’s hard to breathe, and you stumble against a tree before you’ve taken more than a dozen steps, your head swimming. You’ve never felt their magic like this except once before, and you do what you did then; small, paced breaths, taking sips of the air rather than gulping it down. Your lungs will adjust if you give them time, and once the knot in your chest loosens, you straighten up again. There’s a path before you, almost certainly a trap. Is it still a trap if you go into it purposely?

It doesn’t matter if it’s a trap or not – it’s Tam Lin’s trap, and you want to find him. You step onto the path and follow it into the trees.

Each step seems to take you centimeters forward at most, and at the same time, you can feel time passing in a way that’s not quite normal. It skips and starts and pauses, and panic begins to well up inside you as you feel yourself getting tired. On either side of the path are logs covered in soft, pillowy moss, hollows at the base of trees that would be perfect to curl up in, all inviting you to stop and rest. You ignore them, the same as you ignore the shimmering flowers a few meters off to the side, the same as you ignore the deer that follows along beside you close enough to pet. They’re all tricks made to stop you. You won’t stop until you find Izuku. And you won’t find Izuku until you reach Tam Lin.

The path terminates in a clearing, and you nearly stumble into it before you catch yourself. Instantly you know you’ve found the right place. The glade is covered with roses, a few of them white but most of them red, and Izuku sits amongst them, bound hand and foot in thorny vines. You call out to him, remembering only at the last minute not to use his name, and he looks towards you. There’s panic on his face. “Run,” he says. “This is his place. He’s here. If you take another step –”

You look more closely at Izuku. He looks terrible, dehydrated and exhausted, and worse than all of that, he looks thinner. Like he’s lost weight. Like he’s been here much longer than half a day. There’s a white rose clenched in his hand, bound there purposely by the vines. He’s made both mistakes outlined in the stories – trespassed in Tam Lin’s territory, and plucked a flower. Tam Lin has him. You wonder if he’s offered Izuku a bargain, and if he has, why Izuku didn’t take it. “Have you seen him?”

“He won’t show himself, but I know it’s him.” Izuku is crying now. “Please just go. This is all my fault. I don’t want anybody else to get hurt.”

“It’s too late for that.” A voice rasps out from between the trees on the far side of the glade. You see a pale figure there, just out of clear sight. “Listen to the boy. Run while you have the chance.”

So Tam Lin can entrap only one person at a time. You think through the rules of bargaining with the Folk, slowly and carefully, knowing that a mistake will cost Izuku everything. Tam Lin must have offered him a bargain. He must have refused it. And if he’s still here, it means that Tam Lin offers only one chance. It means you’ll get only one chance, and it’s the only choice you have if you want to save Izuku.

It’s not a choice at all. You take a deep breath, shaky enough to rattle your entire body, and step forward into the clearing, ignoring Izuku when he protests, noting the way the shadow in the trees startles. You bend down and grasp a red rose, snapping it free of its vine. “I’ll make you a deal, Tam Lin,” you say. “Let the boy leave the woods alive, safe, and whole, and I’ll take his place.”

Izuku protests again, or tries to. A vine wraps around the lower half of his face, clamping his jaw shut, as Tam Lin steps from the shadows at last. He looks nothing like the Folk are meant to, beautiful and healthy and whole – instead he’s gaunt and deathly pale, his skin dry and ashen and laced with scars. His clothing is ragged, and his hair, even paler than his skin, hangs lank and tangled around his face. His face is scarred, too. His eyes are bloodred.

You catch your breath in horror at the sight of him. He scoffs. “If you dare to offer that bargain again, it’s yours,” he says. “But I don’t think you will.”

“You think the way you look will make me forget why I’m here?” You let out a scoff of your own. “Let the boy leave the woods alive, safe, and whole, and I’ll take his place to bargain with you.”

Tam Lin’s lips are dry and cracked. When they curve into a smile, blood spills from them, dripping from the corner of his mouth to stain the collar of his tattered shirt. “Done.”

The vines unwrap from around Izuku, and you turn towards him, clamping your hand down over his mouth before he can say anything that will put him in Tam Lin’s clutches again. “Go home,” you order. Izuku’s eyes are welling up again. He shakes his head. “I know what I’m doing. I made your bargain, not my own just yet. Promise me you’ll go home now.”

If he promises you here, he won’t be able to break it. You lift your hand away from his mouth. “I promise,” Izuku whispers, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

The vines slip away from him at last, and with them, Izuku moves to drop the white rose. You fold his fingers around it. “Keep it,” you say. “Show Katsuki. Make him keep his promise, too.”

Izuku nods. “Go now,” Tam Lin rasps from behind you, as you help Izuku to his feet and turn him in the direction of the path. “Not that way. Here.”

He points to a gap between the trees, one that travels straight and true. At the far end of it, you can see the light of the setting sun. Izuku stumbles towards it, then steps between the trees, takes a single step – and vanishes. At least, that’s what it looks like from your angle. When you race through the vines to peer into the gap yourself, you see a small figure, dwindling rapidly, disappear into the light.

“You think I’d break my word?” Tam Lin’s come up behind you without warning. He speaks with his lips pressed against your ear. His breath is cold, and you freeze in terror. “Remember, I can’t lie. Unlike you.”

“What makes you think I lied?” You step forward, away from him, turning so you’re face to face. “If my bargain for his life wasn’t true, you wouldn’t have accepted it.”

“That’s right, but you didn’t lie to me,” Tam Lin says. “You lied to the boy, when you told him you had another bargain to make. You knew it was a lie when you said it.”

“I knew,” you admit.

“Then why?”

“So he’d leave without trying to help me.”

“Is that all?” Tam Lin tilts his head, studying you. “I think you lied so he wouldn’t think about the bargain you truly made.”

“That, too.” There’s no point in lying about this. You sealed your fate the moment you pulled the red rose. You let it fall from your hand to rest among the vines. “I don’t want him to think about what you’re going to do to me.”

“You offered yourself to me,” Tam Lin says – snaps, almost. “I gave you the chance to leave. You refused.”

“Yes.” You knew what you were offering, and he knew when he accepted. Why is he still talking? “Let’s get this over with.”

You have the brief satisfaction of seeing Tam Lin’s jaw drop. “Get this over with?”

“Don’t be dense,” you say. You made your deal with him. What else can he do to you? “When someone trespasses and steals from you, you take their virtue or the most valuable thing they have to offer. I made my bargain already, so I don’t get to choose. I don’t want to stand here waiting all night. Let’s get this over with.”

Tam Lin is staring at you like you’ve gone insane. The magic permeating every centimeter of the woods must be making you insane, because you’re standing here in a faery’s haunt, telling a faery to hurry up and – you can’t even finish the thought. Maybe you won’t need to finish the thought if you take control. “Well?”

Tam Lin looks away from you. “Take off your clothes.”

You think about it for a moment, then decide against it. You’re out of choices when it comes to this, except for how it goes, and you don’t want it to go like this. It must not be what Tam Lin wants, either – he’s still looking away, visibly uncomfortable. You cross the space between the two of you, reach up, and turn his head back to face you. He startles when you touch him. His skin is cold. So are his lips, when you rise on your toes to kiss them.

Tam Lin stays frozen, maybe in shock, maybe in disgust. When you draw back, you can read nothing on his face. Maybe this isn’t how the people whose virtue he steals usually react. You kiss him again, and he doesn’t stop you, but he doesn’t respond. You haven’t done a lot of kissing, but you think the person you’re kissing is supposed to do something back. “Do faeries not believe in kissing?”

“I’m not a faery.”

He expects you to believe that, when he has faery magic, when he lives in the middle of a haunted forest, when he’s bound by the same rules that bind them. “Then what are you, Tam Lin?”

“I’m not a faery,” he says again, and you remember, suddenly, that he told you he can’t lie. His hands rise to grasp your waist. They’re thin and bony, almost skeletal, and cold just like the rest of him. “And my name’s not Tam Lin.”

“Oh.” You can’t manage much more of a response than that. “What do I call you, then?”

Not-Tam Lin, not-a-faery, leans in close, presses his lips to your ear again. “Tomura.”

You start to repeat it, to make sure you’ve heard it right, and Tam Lin – Tomura – covers your mouth with his hand. “Not out loud,” he says. Then why did he want you to know it? You kiss the palm of his hand and he flinches. “What are you doing? I told you to take off your clothes.”

“I have to at some point.” Your stomach clenches with discomfort at the thought of exposing yourself here, exposing yourself to him. “But you were right, before. I offered myself willingly. I should act like it.”

Tomura still looks confused. He looks frustrated when he’s confused, or else he’s confused when he’s frustrated, and either way, the whole virtue-stealing thing is taking too long. Your resolve could break at any second, and then this will be awful and painful and terrifying instead of simply awful, simply awkward. You’d rather he acted while you could both still convince yourselves that you want this. You watch Tomura’s expression shift, see the moment when he comes to the same conclusion. This time, when you lean in to kiss him, he kisses you back.

Cold. His kisses are ice-cold and unrelenting, even as his lips split against yours and blood spills between you. You lick it away on instinct and his grip on you tightens, and worse when you swipe your tongue across his lower lip again. Tomura’s lips part at once, and although you’ve done nothing more than read about this in a book, you lock your mouth against his. He’s so cold. But when your hand slips to rest against the side of his neck, you can put your fingers against his pulse. Whatever else Tomura may be, he’s alive.

The thought comforts you ever so slightly, but whatever peace or comfort you feel evaporates when Tomura’s grip on you shifts. He lifts you off your feet with a strength you wouldn’t have imagined he possessed and lays you down amongst the thorns. Amongst a spot that’s clear of them. You can see the vines retreating out of the corner of your eye a moment before Tomura pins you down. His mouth crashes against yours, and the way he’s stretched out on top of you forces you to part your legs, just enough that one of his can fit between them.

You chose for this to happen. You offered yourself willingly, and still you squirm to get free. Tomura shifts his weight so he’s no longer pinning you quite so heavily, but one of his hands slips beneath your shirt, pulling one cup of your bra down to clear his way to your breast. “Hey,” you protest. “What are you doing?”

Tomura doesn’t answer. He seems fascinated, too fascinated to even kiss you, as he cups your breast in one hand, gives an almost experimental squeeze. Your nipples harden, more from the cold than anything else, but of course he notices. He pinches it lightly, and your body jerks. An unfamiliar sensation runs quickly through you. “Hey,” you protest again, softer this time. “I thought you just were supposed to take my virtue.”

“I want everything.” Tomura’s leg presses harder between yours as he pinches your nipple again, tugs at it for a moment before circling it with the rough pad of his thumb. Your body jerks a second time, forcing your hips up to grind against his leg. “You’re warm –”

Warm, bordering on hot, and the way he’s yanked your bra aside is uncomfortable. You shove lightly at his shoulders as he wrestles with the other cup. You shove weakly at his shoulders, and he gives you an annoyed look. “Let me sit up,” you say. “I need to take it off.”

Tomura lets you up just long enough for you to take it off and pull it out from under your shirt, but as soon as it’s gone, he pushes you back down again. This time his mouth finds yours as he plays with your breasts, and when you squirm against the sensation running through you, there’s nowhere for you to go. If your back isn’t arching into his touch, your hips are rolling against his leg, your motions growing more urgent as he toys with you. He has to stop. He has to stop, or he’s going to –

“Tomura,” you gasp against his mouth, and you feel him shudder. So that is his name. So you do have something, after all. “Tomura, please –”

He stops, which is what you wanted – and at the same time, it’s not what you wanted at all. He sits up, draws back, and before you can protest, he’s tugging at the waistband of your pants. You start to sit up, but he pushes you back. “I need to take off my shoes,” you say. He gives you a skeptical look. “I said I’d take my clothes off.”

“I want to do it.” Tomura pushes you back onto your elbows, then pries your shoes off your feet, along with your socks. Then he’s back to your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear and casting them aside. “I told you. I want everything.”

He’s still fully dressed, but his shirt’s in tatters, barely concealing anything. You thought he’d undress more, but he’s already pushing your legs apart, sinking down between them. Too far. By the time it occurs to you what Tomura’s doing, his mouth is between your legs, his tongue cold in contrast to your heat. His fingers are the same, when two of them slip easily inside you. Your legs are shaking from a few laps of his tongue against your clit. Your body tenses, forcing a sharp gasp out of your mouth. You feel exposed to an awful degree, horrified at how helpless you must look, how helpless you are – and at the same time, the sensation of his touch feels so much better than anything you’ve felt before.

You sit up on your elbows, but your face goes up in flames at the sight of him between your legs, and you fall back, staring up at the sky instead. Even then, you can’t shake the image of him with his eyes shut, face buried between your legs, completely lost in you. You can’t fail to hear the harshness of his breathing, the sound he makes when you clench tight around his fingers and come so hard your eyes go blurry. Even if you could, it would be impossible to miss the fact that he keeps licking you even as your body goes limp, that it takes you shoving at his shoulder to make him pull away – and even when he does, he’s reluctant in a way that makes you cringe with embarrassment.

Tomura sits back, and you sit up. When you make eye contact, you see that his eyes are dilated, and that his pupils are round rather than vertical. He wasn’t lying. He’s not a faery, but the way he’s looking at you means you can’t look at him for long. You look away. He catches the hem of your shirt and peels it off, and you do the same before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down. You don’t know the first thing about cocks, but you’d have to be an idiot to miss that his is hard already.

You reach out for him and he pushes your hands away, shaking his head. “Don’t. I can’t if you –”

If you touch him? You’ve barely touched him. Why does he look like he’s about to come already? You lie back and Tomura follows you down, knocking your legs apart and lying down between them. This is what you were steeling yourself for, an eternity ago when you told him to get on with it, what you planned to grit your teeth and bear through. But Tomura sinks into you easily. Your legs shake where they’re hooked over his hips, but that’s nothing new. Tomura, with his gritted teeth and flushed face, looks like he’s having a harder time with it than you are.

You wrap your arms around his neck on his first unsteady thrust, pulling him down for a kiss that tastes the way you must. You don’t know how you feel about that. You kiss his neck instead, then his jaw just below his ear, and Tomura moans. You know how you feel about that – heat rushes through you, and you kiss him again. He’s almost frantic in the way he fucks you, no control, all need. Almost like – the thought’s absurd – almost like it’s his first time, not just yours.

You know you won’t come a second time. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good to have him like this, to be the reason why he’s desperate, why he’s panting for breath, why some trace of warmth has returned to his icy skin. There’s no way you can touch him that won’t unbalance him somehow, no matter how light or gentle you are. When you cradle his face in one hand, run your thumb over a scar on his lips, he leans into your palm for a split second before seizing your wrist and pulling your hand away.

But he doesn’t let go of your hand. You pull your wrist free, then lace your fingers with his, and you see his eyes go wide. “Tomura,” you say, and he looks at you.

You have no idea what you look like, and no idea what to say next, but it doesn’t matter. He shudders, curses, his grip on your hand tightening to the point of pain as he comes. His grip doesn’t loosen, not even when he pulls out and slumps against you. The fact that he’s still holding your hand is the only proof you have that he’s not completely unconscious.

Even though he’s warmer than he was before, you’re still cold. And naked. And lying on the ground. You start trying to escape, and you get as far away as sitting up and reaching for the nearest item of your clothing before a not-quite-so-cold hand closes around your wrist. “No.”

“I held up my end of the deal,” you say. “You can’t keep me here any longer.”

“The woods aren’t safe at night,” Tomura says. “Not from them. Not for you, and not for me. I can’t stop you from leaving, but if one of them finds you, they’ll do worse than anything I could.”

You remember what you said to the others before you left – you’d be back before nightfall, or else tomorrow morning. It looks like it’ll be tomorrow morning. “All right,” you say, and Tomura’s grip on your wrist relaxes. “I’m still putting on my clothes.”

Somehow, getting dressed again makes things more awkward, not less. Even with your clothes on, you can’t forget that he’s seen you without them, or anything else about what happened between the two of you. You’re hungry and thirsty, but even if Tomura offered you food, you couldn’t eat anything that’s passed through faery hands or come from the Fair Folk’s domain. It’s dark, and you’re tired. Once you’re dressed again, you go looking for somewhere to sleep.

“Here.” Tomura is shadowing you, never more than a hairsbreadth away. He points out the hollow of a massive tree, more than spacious enough for three people, let alone two. Inside it you can see a collection of objects, scattered in the corners, decorating the walls. “This is where I sleep.”

“So I should sleep somewhere else,” you say, but your attention’s drawn to the objects. There’s no rhyme or reason to what they are, no common thread. Jewelry and watches hang on walls beside folded pieces of paper, books lay in piles on the ground next to stacks of CDs and old cameras – and phones. There are more smartphones piled up under this tree than you’ve seen since the end of the world, and suddenly it clicks. “These are from your trades.”

Tomura nods, and you study the objects, feeling sick to your stomach all over again. The most valuable thing a person had – in the war and immediately afterwards, it would have been their phone, because everyone still hoped they’d start working again. Then photo albums, picture frames, even missing posters, reminders of people who’d been lost, and after that, simple objects. A CD, because things with batteries still work. A favorite book, because no books will ever be printed again. A piece of jewelry, gifted by someone a person loved. Like what you would have traded to Tam Lin, if you’d had a chance to choose.

You get a little fixated on a dog’s collar, well-worn, with a tag still dangling from it. It’s all too easy to imagine the person who would have carried it with them. “This is cruel.”

“They had a choice.” Tomura takes the collar out of your hand and sets it back among the rest, arranging it just so. His hands are covered in scars, just like the rest of him. “They chose this.”

Something occurs to you. “How many of them chose it?” you ask. He glances sideways at you, then looks away. “How many of gave something to you, and how many of them –”

You aren’t sure how to describe what happened to you. Tomura doesn’t answer, and you think about the world before the war, the world after. Of how many people still cling desperately to the scraps of a world that will never come back. You know the answer to your question. You wished you hadn’t asked in the first place, and the idea of sleeping here makes your skin crawl. Sleeping here next to him feels even stranger.

But you don’t know what else lives in the woods, and while you can’t trust Tomura, you know at least that he has his end of the bargain to uphold. You crawl into the hollow beneath the tree, keeping as far from Tomura as possible. Tam Lin’s glade shimmers even in the moonless night, but within the tree, it’s ordinary darkness. Somewhere within it, Tomura speaks. “Out there. What’s it like?”

You don’t know what to say. “I asked that boy,” Tomura continues. “He wouldn’t tell me. Is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret,” you say. “He knows better than to talk to faeries. All the children do.”

“For how long?”

“Why does it matter?” you ask. Tomura scoffs, shifts in the darkness. Your eyes have adjusted enough to see his shoulders hunched, his almost-skeletal limbs folding in to make him smaller than he should be. “You’re one of them. Shouldn’t you know?”

“I told you I’m not a faery.” It’s quiet for a few moments. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you. How long ago did it start?”

“Seven years this October,” you say, and on the other side of the hollow, Tomura sits bolt upright. “Does that mean something to you?”

Tomura doesn’t answer that, either. He sits there, frozen like a statue, and you turn away. It’s been a while since you slept on the ground, but you’re tired enough that it won’t matter, and you feel so strange. Your legs hurt, and you’re sore between them, and when you lick your lips, you find Tomura’s blood still staining your mouth. Lying down on the far side of the hollow with your back to him doesn’t feel like the right answer, but neither does trying to talk to him, let alone going closer. You lie down, fold your arms against your chest in an effort to keep warm, and close your eyes.

Your eyelids have just begun to grow heavy when Tomura speaks again. “Seven years,” he says, and his voice sounds wrong. “Are you sure?”

“I remember the day it happened,” you say. “I know.”

You were thirteen. You remember the way the weight and taste of the air changed, the icy winds that whipped through town ahead of the advancing armies. You remember running, then hiding, hearing but not seeing what was done to the people who were caught. Izuku and the others will never know what the world was like before, but even if you don’t cling to the past, you can never forget what the Fair Folk tore away. “I know,” you say again. “Almost seven years.”

“Seven years.” Tomura takes a deep breath, or tries to. You hear it catch and rattle. “I didn’t think –”

His breathing rattles again, and a sense of foreboding sweeps over you. There’s something he knows that you don’t, something you have to get out of him – but then he takes another rattling breath, and you match the sound to the reaction. It’s not one you’d expect from the Fair Folk, and it’s what convinces you at last that Tam Lin’s not one of them. The Fair Folk don’t cry.

You shouldn’t care at all, not when you’re sitting amongst the precious things he’s stolen from so many in exchange for their freedom, not when you’re one of his – victims? – yourself. But ignoring it feels wrong, wrong in the same way as waiting until morning to look for Izuku was. You sit up, reach out across the hollow, but the distance between the two of you is too great. You scoot closer, feeling for him through the darkness until your hand encounters a frozen, shaking shoulder. The question you were going to ask him dies on your tongue.

Whatever this is, it’s not something you can fix. You wrap your arms loosely around him instead, feeling him startle the same way he did when you first kissed him. You lie back, pulling Tomura with you, until the two of you are sprawled on the ground. It’s uncomfortable, still. Tomura’s still cold. You still don’t know how you feel about what happened between the two of you. But you know you feel better like this. Things feel better when you aren’t alone.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when the sounds of the forest wake you up, it’s dawn. Tomura hasn’t stirred, and he’s lying on one of your arms, which is numb and full of pins and needles as you try to work it loose. Tomura sits up before you’ve freed yourself. The darkness wasn’t kind to him, but in daylight, you’re struck by just how terrible he looks – thinner, paler, skin dry and cracked and scarred. He’s hard to look at. Harder to look away from.

You look away and get to your feet. “Which way do I go to get out?”

“The low road.” Tam Lin is slower to rise, and as he does, the same passageway that Izuku left through opens on the far side of the glade. “Don’t leave the path.”

“I won’t.” You straighten your clothes, then turn to look at Tomura. What are you supposed to say to him now? Thank you for not hurting you, for letting you fulfill your side of the bargain your way? “Goodbye, Tam Lin.”

“That’s not my name,” he says. “The other one. Do you remember it?”

“Of course,” you say, and Tomura’s shoulders relax ever so slightly. “I won’t forget.”

“It won’t matter anymore, soon,” Tomura says. He turns away. “Go.”

You have questions – questions, and a strange twist of worry within you – but you also made a promise to the others in the settlement, and you have to keep it. You turn away from him and cross the glade, heading for the opening between the trees, not stopping even when you hear his footsteps behind you. One hand grasps your waist again, stopping you in your tracks, while the other arm wraps around you. There’s something in his hand. You look down and see the rose you plucked last night, as perfect as when you pulled it from the vine.

“Here.” Tam Lin’s voice is less than a puff of air against your ear. “You won this. Take it with you.”

You take it from him, and his hands fall away from you. The urge to look back is there, and it’s strong. You step forward instead, crossing out of the glade – and three steps later, out of the woods and into the bright morning sun.

It’s not long before one of the others spots you – Keigo’s always had sharp eyes – and he calls for the others. As they race towards you, you decide what you’ll tell them. You spent the night bargaining with Tam Lin, the same as the hero in another folktale spent her night as wife to a murderous king telling stories to keep him interested, and eventually you won your freedom. You’ll say nothing of the bargain you really made, nothing of what happened between you and the being the world knows as Tam Lin. They’ll look at you differently. They won’t understand. You barely understand yourself.

You’ll keep it to yourself. When the others reach you, you ask your question first. “Did Izuku get back? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Fuyumi says. She looks you anxiously up and down. “What about you?”

You’re conscious of the woods behind you in a way you never were before. You’re still holding the rose. “I’m glad Izuku’s okay,” you say, because you are. And then you lie, because you can do that, because they don’t need to know how you returned – just that you did. “I’m fine, too.”

[vicsy]

Had no idea what to pitch so I literally looked up one word prompts and chose the first few. Pick whichever inspires: Daniel x Max + Sunburn/Tease/Emerge/Afternoon/Impulse/Nurture/Rough/Polaroid/Good

maxiel + polaroid, sunburn

"Drink?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks. Can't stay long. Duty calls!" Daniel makes an exaggerated gesture. Max cracks a smile. He probably follows the pundit stuff Daniel does more than actual racing these days. "Just wanted to pop by since you're back to calling Monaco home. Nice place, mate."

If not for the sim rig installed in an empty guest room that could have been a nursery in a life he brushed aside, nobody would have ever guessed Max lived here. His new apartment was clean, spacious, incredibly faceless. A simple home for a creature of habit Max always was but not quite a home.

"I wanted to go watch the race this weekend," Max admits and pads through the cluttered living room to the adjacent kitchen, straight to the fridge. It's shiny, sophisticated and very empty, except for a monthly supply of Red Bull and yesterday's leftovers. He grabs a can for himself, wishing he had that beer Daniel used to love. "But I am of course happy to see you after, well. Who knows, yeah?"

Couple years, give or take. Max stopped counting after turning thirty-three.

Behind him, Daniel claps his hands together. Max throws a surprised look over his shoulder, blindly rummaging in the fridge. The shine of Daniel's smile hasn't diminished over the years, but the crow's feet around his eyes, Max discovers, are more prominent than he remembers. He wonders if Daniel notices the little changes about him, too; if he cares for them at all. Max does.

"Oh, congrats on your team winning, uh, another virtual racing thingy," he delivers the line with that old, addictive enthusiasm and, to Max, it's a gut punch. He schools his face, a lump forming in his throat. Daniel gives him a thumbs up, turns around and walks along the empty shelves attached to the TV wall. The lack of decor there makes it look kind of pathetic. Max had only managed to put two of his WEC trophies on display, a helmet he wore for the last race and a nice-looking box of assorted knick-knacks dear to his memory. "Any plans to decimate Le Mans this year, Mr Three Time champ?"

"Fernando is busy with Dakar, so probably I'll skip it. Oscar texted me about doing it next year together, so," Daniel's back is facing him still. Max closes the fridge and opens the Red Bull can, places it on the kitchen counter. Stares at it for a second or two. Then, out of a long-forgotten habit, Max goes for a poorly planned half-joke. "Didn't know you started watching iRacing in your old age. Quick, what's a livestream?"

It's a desperate attempt to even the gap between now and before. Daniel flips him a bird without looking, too occupied with whatever he found on Max's sad little shelves.

"Har, har, fucker. I mean, I gotta keep myself in the game, everything is changing, like, a lot. And, come on, it's you–" he stops talking. Max takes a sip from the can, watching Daniel finally face him. "Huh. Didn't know you still have these."

Max has gone lengths without having to experience a solid enough crash and the debilitating aftermath reverberating through his body. In the sun-flooded apartment, on the freshly turned page, it catches up to Max as abruptly as a rainstorm in the summer.

Forty-three year old Daniel is standing in his unfurnished living room, a splotch of color among the backdrop of generic white paint and a mount of unpacked boxes. Forty-three year old Daniel, with a sprinkle of salt in his hair and a tan line on the ring finger of his left hand, looks at Max like he's a ghost from the past, like it's him who just had to ruin everything when things got too real. He wasn't there when Max paid the price of his own happiness in retaliation.

Forty-three year old Daniel, who sent out an invitation to a wedding Max never attended, holds up two tiny polaroids taken almost a decade ago and all Max can think of is his signature on the divorce papers, the ink still wet.

He swiftly closes the distance to Daniel and snatches both pictures from him, cradles them to his chest. Daniel's hand is left suspended in the air between them. Max ignores the wobble in between his ribs. His eyes trace the line of the rose tattoo in the direct line of vision, memory bristling, anger thrumming underneath his skin.

"I kept them," Max spits. He doesn't mask the bitterness in his voice. He had it bottled up long enough the cork had gone rotten.

Daniel stares back, mouth slack. He looks good and Max hates that, hates his stupid colorful hoodie and his meager attempts to make amends. Above all, Max hates himself for ever conceding. Daniel has always had one foot out the door. Missed chances were Max's fuel and they've still propelled him back to square one.

"Yeah. I figured," Daniel says, too soft, too familiar. Placating. Max should ask him to leave.

Instead, he drops his gaze to the polaroids laid flat on his palm. They're in good condition but Max also hadn't looked at them in months, maybe years; it doesn't matter since those Daniel and Max, everything they stood for, ossified and turned into dust. It doesn't keep Max awake at night anymore.

Out of the two photos, only one comes from the Red Bull PR department. They never cared when it went missing. Max remembers the video they shot too starkly to be unbothered it ever happened — him and Daniel in matching team gear, insane rain in Monaco; Max winning that weekend and Daniel watching from the pit wall.

The other polaroid, a bit rough on the edges, had never seen the light of day. It captured just a part of Max's sunburnt face, a corner of his smile; Daniel's lips pressed to his cheek, his wet curls in disarray. Max gets a phantom ache in his chest when he remembers how the camera ended up in the sand, falling off a small table where they had propped it up against a half-empty cocktail glass.

Daniel cups Max's hand holding the photos from underneath, painfully hesitant. Max flits his eyes up to the hollow of Daniel's throat, to his full beard; to the pleading look stabbing daggers into the soft edges of Max that were once hard and unforgiving. 

Stashing those polaroids was Max’s way to forget he wished to go back. He was never the one to leave in the first place; that was Daniel's sworn prerogative. But he's in Max's living room now, a lifetime away from running.

"Max–"

"I think," he cuts in before Daniel makes it worse or gives him hope. His hand slips from Daniel's hold and Max retraces his steps back to the kitchen. Daniel tracks his every move. "I think I will put them here."

He sticks the polaroids to the enormous fridge door with a Welcome to Monaco magnet he fished out of a nearby drawer. The photos look whacky but, to Max, it's a long shot. He lingers in place, berating himself for giving this another chance. 

When he turns back around, Daniel is just an arm's length away.

"About that drink," Daniel says, low. Max watches his tongue dart out, wetting his lips. His heart jackhammers against his ribs.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Max's back hits the fridge.

Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I will write a 5 sentence fic abou

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.2 K Warnings: none Prompt: What will happen when yet another full moon approaches, could things start to change? This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

ANOUNCMENT:

In a couple of weeks I'll make a Q&A to cellebrate Gilded Constellations reaching 100,000 K words. And I'd love for all of you to be a part of it. So send in your questions, they can be anything you want, things like: How did you get the idea? Where does inspo come from? writing tips (I mean I don’t know much but anyway), character design, fancast, fav characters, things about me, about my plot notebook, literally anything you want, ask away (just state: For Q&A event or something) <3

Chapter 13: “Rebel, Rebel.”

October, 22nd (Friday)

A week after the incident, your mom had already sent your old Viper, but the Nimbus company had yet to respond to your letter. You’d gotten used to your older broom pretty fast. Muscle memory must really be a thing, since the moment you mounted it, it was like you’d been doing it forever. 

James was right, the Viper was a lot more stable than other brooms. More than Sirius’ SweepFire, and probably more than the Dark Nimbus itself. But it was slower, you’d already gotten used to the fast accelerations your Dark Nimbus had, and now you had to be extra attentive of the ball so you could make a move before it had enough time to get past you and onto one of the goals. Regardless of the slowness, the Viper was sturdier and heavier, which made it easier to do tricks like the backflip people still wouldn’t stop talking about. Last Tuesday you’d even attempted to surf on it, and you managed to do perfectly fine for a couple of meters until James spotted you and gave you the longest talk about being responsible and not doing stupid things, the hypocrite. But he was on captain mode and when he got on that mood it was absolutely useless to talk him out of it, so you nodded and promised you wouldn’t do it again, even if you probably would at some point. 

You told Lily about dating Sirius as soon as you were feeling better, she asked you so many questions, from how it’d happen to how good were Sirius’ kisses. She had been told he was really good by a girl back in 5th year, and she wanted to know if it was true or if the girl was just obsessed with Sirius like most girls in school. You omitted the fact that you probably were just as obsessed with him as they were and confirmed that Sirius was indeed a good kisser, not that you’d kissed all that many people before, but still. The rest of your friends had slowly found out about your new relationship, be it for the way Sirius sat next to you a lot more often now, because his teasing and flirting had gotten a lot stronger. Or, in the case of Tom, because he’d accidentally found you snogging on an empty classroom, at least he just gave you a thumbs up, a cheeky smile, and whispered something like “Keep it going guys! You’re doing great”.  Both you and Sirius had separated to laugh about it when Tom closed the door. 

“You ready?” Sirius asked with a smile, pulling you from your thoughts.  You looked at him with a daring face. 

You know that thing you were told not to do a couple of days ago and you promised you wouldn’t? Well, that promise lasted exactly 4 days, 3 hours and a couple of minutes. James was busy with an essay he’d forgotten about, and you and Sirius had gone flying together, and unfortunately, neither of you had a clear enough sense of self-preservation when you were around each other. Especially not after someone said, “I dare you to…” 

You were slowly standing over your broom, hands extended to try and keep your balance. Neither of you was flying too high, that way if you fell you wouldn’t get too hurt. Once you had managed to maintain your balance you nodded “Ready,” you said with a wink, and the two of you started broom surfing, picking up speed as you glided through the open fields of the school. As you were about to reach the finish line, you realized the grass was moving in a funny way right in front of you, and you frowned.  

“Hey Sirius I think–“ you started, but it was too late, something had yanked both of your brooms down and caused you to tumble down to the grass. You’d fallen over and rolled a couple of meters while he’d fallen over something, or rather someone. As you looked up you realized he was right on top of Remus, who had popped out of nowhere (probably the invisibility cloak). As the two of them sorted themselves out you stood up quickly and looked around, spitting some of the grass that had gotten inside your mouth. And then you spotted them, Barty Crouch and Evan Rosier, hiding behind a stone wall. You took your wand out and pointed it at them. Evan seemed to pull back but Barty just smiled wickedly “The fuck is wrong with you?” You roared, already walking towards where they stood. 

Barty walked head high towards you too “You saw them fall, Evan? It was hilarious!” 

“Fall? You must be bIoody delusional if you think you’re going to trick me with that! I felt the way my broom was yanked down.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with a smile “Do you Evan?” 

Evan shook his head, as if Barty needed a sidekick to be vile. 

“You’re begging for me to break your stupid nose again,” you replied as you looked at him impassively. 

“I’d like to see you try,” he said smugly. 

You pointed your wand at his face, but Remus stood in front of you, calmly placing his hand over the one you used to hold your wand and pushing it down a little, to prompt you to do it yourself. 

Sirius stood still next to Remus, looking at Barty with hate, but keeping a strong grip on his wand. 

“Remus what the–“

“–He’s provoking you,” he told you calmly “he wants you to react.” 

“Yeah, well maybe I want to react,” you retorted, now slightly irritated at your friend’s actions. He just looked at you, shook his head calmly and softly ran his thumb over your forearm, still pushing it lightly down. If anyone knew about anger management it was Remus Lupin.

“Hey,” he said softly, looking at you straight in the eye, trying to get you to focus on him, rather than on Barty looking at you cockily from behind “Look at me luv,” he cooed, you looked at him for a second but turned your eyes back to Barty “I’m fine, Pads’s fine, you’re fine. There is no need to fight.” 

“You could’ve gotten hurt, we could’ve–“ 

“–Listen to me. Don’t give him the satisfaction of rilling you up. You don’t want him to be the cause of Gryffindor losing points, do you? That’s probably why he’s–“ 

“–yeah, go ahead (Y/N), listen to your boyfriends, they know what’s best,” Evan taunted from behind, you clenched your jaw. But took a deep breath, finally lowering your wand. Maybe you should’ve put him in his place then and then, how different would things have ended up if you actually had? 

“You know what Barty? Remus is right, you aren’t even worth my time.” You said standing straighter “At least be more creative with your petty jokes next time, all right? Maybe then you’d at least keep me entertained.” Then you turned around and used your wand to pull both yours and Sirius’ broom to your hands and walked back to the castle, lagging just a second so Sirius and Remus would walk by your side. 

“I want to strangle him,” you told them once you thought the two Slytherins were out of earshot.

“You and me both,” Sirius agreed, taking his broom from your hands, but lingering as his fingers brushed over yours “I probably would have, had Remus not stopped me first.” You looked at him for a moment and then recalled, Sirius was still on top of Remus because of the fall when you speed-walked towards the two Slytherin boys.  “And he’s right, the last thing we want is to start an open war in between us and his stupid gang.” 

“But they already started it, we’re just not doing anything about it.” You reproached, still a little riled up, the urge to punch Barty was wearing you thin, “Anyway, I do not want to have detention while everyone’s enjoying themselves at the Halloween party next week.” 

Remus smiled “How do you know about that?” 

“Tom and Beth told me all about the party you guys always plan together, I’m already preparing my costume.” 

“Is it gonna be a sexy Halloween costume, luv?” Sirius chimed in, leaning towards you with a little smirk on his face. 

 You pushed him back playfully “Ugh… don’t be such a dog!” 

Remus laughed at that, “I’m sure you’d look pretty even in a sack of potatoes.” 

“Yeah, in a very short one,” Sirius teased even further. 

“If only my boyfriend was as much of a gentleman as his friend here,” you said with a playful sight.

“You clearly don’t know Moony’s dark side,” Sirius chimed. 

You arched your eyebrows at that “And you do?” 

Sirius was about to respond when Beth showed up, looking a bit agitated as If she had been running “There you are!” She said as she stood in front of the three “Professor Spellman wants to see us earlier today, something about a special announcement.”

You frowned “Right now?” You asked. She nodded. 

“But we haven’t eaten!” Sirius complained. 

“I don’t think it’ll take too much,” Beth said with a shrug, “But it did seem rather urgent.” 

You nodded and the four of you started walking towards the North Tower. When you arrived, you realized they hadn’t exclusively called your class, in fact, the entire school year had somehow crammed inside the classroom. There were barely any sits left, when Tom saw Beth, he quickly waved to her and she went to sit besides him. You scanned the room and found only one table free, you rolled your eyes when you realized Evan and a Slytherin girl from his year whose name slipped your mind were sitting behind it. You looked at Sirius and pointed at the only free spot with a nudge of your head. 

He rolled his eyes but the three of you walked towards the table, the boys pushed the two chairs together and you squeezed in between the two. Leaning ahead a little so they could accommodate their larger backs onto the chair. Sirius had placed his hand on your tight under the table, and you gave him a look, “I’m gonna fall if I don’t grab onto something,” he said with an innocent smile.

“Yeah, sure enough, Puppy,” you replied playfully. 

“Hm… that’s the fifth from this week,” he said as he squeezed your tight.

Then you felt something pull your hair from behind. You turned around pissed and Evan was smiling “What? Did I ruin your cuddle time with your two boyfriends?”

You looked at him, but smirked “Why, you jelly?” You asked but didn’t give him enough time to reply, “You should know by now that my cuddle time knows no bounds. It's an exclusive club with a very long waiting list. But don't worry, I can squeeze you in somewhere between Tuesdays and never." 

Evan’s face turned sour while Sirius looked at you with a proud smirk and Remus laughed, chest rumbling behind you. He was about to retaliate when Professor Spellman walked in. So you decided to piss him off even further “Shh honey…” you said as condescendingly as possible “Teacher’s about to speak,” finally you turned around with a smirk. 

Remus gave you a side eye and placed his hand, palm facing up, just above your lap, raising his eyebrows, you understood what he meant in a second and high-fived him instantly, giving him a wink before leaning over the desk a little, to give the two boys some space. 

When Spellman finally reached his desk, he gave you a stern look “Miss (Y/LN), why are you sitting between Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin?” 

“There was nowhere else to sit,” you replied, motioning to the crammed classroom “I can sit on the floor if you want though.” 

The Professor sighed but nodded, “That won’t be necessary, this won’t take too long,” he said, before waving his wand and letting a long banner unroll from the ceiling over the chalkboard.

It read: The Moon and the Stars

“As some of you who keep up with the astral cycle may know, next Sunday is full moon,” Spellman said, you felt Remus tense behind you, which made you frown, but the professor kept talking, and you ended up shrugging it off “And not only that, but a very interesting phenomenon will also occur, it will be a bIood moon, which makes it the perfect moment for an astrology class,” He said with a proud smile “You will all be excused from today’s class in exchange for 2 hours of your Sunday night.” There was a mix of groans and cheers in the classroom, from those who were happy about not having class, and those who were upset about having class on a Sunday “Class will start at 10 pm,” Spellman continued, not giving the children time to protest “bring your notebooks and telescopes, those who have their own. We will meet in the Astronomy tower. Any questions?” 

A Ravenclaw boy raised his hand “What happens if we can’t make it?” 

“I highly doubt you’ll have anything better to do on Sunday night Mr. Finchley,” the professor responded sassily. Remus, who looked like he wanted to say something, decided to let it go, and sank back on the chair. The professor waited a couple more seconds, to see if anyone else had a question, but upon no one’s answer he clapped his hands together “Excellent, you’re excused now. See you on Sunday.” 

Sirius was the first one to stand up, letting you out through his side, while Remus seemed to be a little troubled. Your boyfriend placed a hand over his shoulder “It’s ok mate, we’ll figure it out,” he told him. You looked at the exchange with curiosity but it dissipated the moment Lily appeared out of nowhere and hooked her arm around yours.

“The girls and I are going to go prepare some droughts at the potions classroom now, hair and grooming stuff, you said you wanted to brew a special something for your Halloween costume, yeah?” 

You nodded, Sirius raised an eyebrow “Special something?” 

You smiled in response “If you guess it, I’ll give you a prize,” you said confidently, he would not guess your Halloween costume, even if he tried a thousand times. 

“Anything I want?” He asked suggestively. 

You laughed in response “Sure Puppy, anything you want,” you told him before walking out with Lily, the girls were waiting just outside the door.

“That was the 6th!” You heard Sirius say from behind. 

Lily raised an eyebrow “What’s that all about,” she asked. You giggled in response “Let’s just say dear Sirius and I have a bit of an arrangement, I can call him Puppy whenever I want, but he gets some kisses in return.” 

She laughed at your answer “Why aren’t I surprised?” 

You shrugged with a smile, finally catching up with the girls “You wanted to make a glow potion, right?” Mary asked, “Like the one Marlene drank on her birthday?” 

“Yup, I think I’ve got all the ingredients ready too,” you told her, checking the little rattan bag inside your backpack where you’d been placing all the necessary stuff. 

Lily gave a small peak to the bag and frowned “I don’t think you’ve got glow-weed yet.” 

Tom, who seemed to have shown up out of nowhere started to walk by Lily’s side “Why do you need weed?” 

You laughed “Glow-weed,” Beth corrected “not weed, weed.” 

“Hmmm… that’s not as fun.” He said, scrunching his nose a little “What for?” 

“(Y/N’s) Halloween Costume,” Marlene answered casually.

“Oh, you’re gonna be a fairy or something?” He asked excitedly.

You paled at that and turned to him wide-eyed “If you tell Sirius Black about it, I’ll strangle you.” 

“Cheeky,” he replied, leaning closer to you, which made you roll your eyes and push him back. 

“Please don’t tell Sirius?” 

“Why?” 

“She promised Sirius a prize if he guessed. She specifically said anything he wanted,” Lily chimed in. 

Tom looked at Lily and then turned his gaze back to you, impressed “So really cheeky then.” 

“Toooom!” You whined. 

“My lips are sealed,” he said, passing a hand over them as if he was zipping them and then placing his hand over his chest. How dramatic, you thought, but then again, you were the one dating Sirius Black, so who were you to judge? 

“Why didn’t you just tell him about your costume?” Asked Beth. 

You sighed “He was going on and on about sexy Halloween costumes, he would not stop bothering me if I did.” You responded simply, by then you were already outside the potions classroom. Professor Slughorn was in his office, and Lily had been the one inside and asked for permission to enter. He was more than happy to let you guys in to practice potions that he even gave Lily the key to the ingredients room, giving you free rein to use whatever you might need. 

When Lily came out, shaking the key in her hand with a smile Marlene rolled her eyes “Teacher’s pet,” she teased. 

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug “but, I just got our hands on the Ingredients Supply, and Slughorn said we could take whatever we wanted.”

“Sweet!” Said Tom as he took the keys from Lily’s hands and led all the way to the ingredients room. He took out a little paper from his pocket and started looking for some stuff, all the while you tried to find some of that glow-weed.  

When you finally found it you looked at the combination of stuff he’d placed in his basket and narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion “That’s not for beauty products is it?” 

He shook his head with a little smirk “I’m working on a little something,” he said, “also for the Halloween party.” 

You raised your eyebrow, looking at the stuff he’d gathered so far “Essence of Laughing Lily, Blissberry Extract, Frolic Fizzweed Leaves, Lavender Essence, are you by any chance making–“ 

He shook his head and placed a finger over your mouth “–Shhhhh! If Lily busts us, we won’t be having any fun.”

You smiled complicity “Well then, keep working on your little magical project,” you said, and then leaned in closer to whisper “If you add Moonstone Shimmer, you can make the potion a bit more potent overall.” You raised your eyebrows and winked before walking back to the table on which you’d be working. Marlene was next to you, and she’d set herself to prepare a special hand cream since the weather was getting colder. 

Beth was working on an enchanting hair serum that she’d run out of. And Lily said she was working on a “perfect curls potion,” also for the Halloween party. 

“Would you mind borrowing me some of that on the Halloween party?” You asked her when she told you what she was working on. 

She nodded “In fact, I’m making a lot extra,” she replied with a smile “To keep a stash on our bathroom.” 

“You’re brilliant!” You told her with a smile. 

“I’m working on some radiant complexion elixir, also for our bathroom,” Mary said. “We’re giving some of our stuff to Beth and she’s gonna borrow some of her hair stuff. We’ll all be stocked up in beauty products?” 

“And you do this all the time?” You asked with a smile. 

“A couple times a year, yeah,” said Marlene from her table.

“Genious, can I help with anything?” 

“I was actually thinking of using some of your glow potion and add it to the one I’m making, for glowier hair,” Beth told you, you smiled and nodded. 

“Oh, that would look amazing!” You agreed, “A bit on the radiant complexion would probably work wonders too.” 

“Yes, it would!” Lily said with a nod. “And what are you working on Tom?” She asked, turning to the boy. 

He turned to her like a deer trapped in headlights, and then crossed his eyes over at you, pleading for help “After shave lotion, right?” You said casually “So that the shave lasts longer, you mentioned?” 

He nodded “Ye– yeah… I heard Remus complain about his freshly shaved face lasting nothing, and I thought, same mate. Decided to do something about it.” 

You kept a tight smile as you gave him a look. Tom was a shitty liar. “Right! I’m sure that recipe James got you from Fleamont will be brilliant.” Tom nodded and went back to his preparations. 

“Why would you need Frolic Fizzweed Leaves for an aftershave lotion?” Lily asked, more to herself than to the rest. 

You shrugged “Must be one of those secret Potter family tricks,” you said with a shrug, and then smiled when you concluded it would be the perfect time to tease your friend “I’m sure if you married Potter your in-laws would be more than happy to tell you all about them.” 

Lily gave you a reproachful look, but Marlene added to the conversation “It’d be great, that way they could get back the potion-making talent they lost on with James.” 

“James isn’t bad at potions!” She said with a shrug, not quite thinking before she spoke.

Your smile grew “Really? Tell us all about your boy’s talents.” 

“He’s not my boy.” 

“Pretty sure he is, at least in his point of view,” added Tom as he mixed some things in his cauldron. 

“Why don’t you guys tease (Y/N) with Sirius instead?” Lily said as she chopped some of her ingredients with a bit of a frown. 

“They’re dating already, what is there to tease them about?” Mary said with a shrug, “If you want us to stop teasing you, you should just date Potter.” 

You all laughed at that, but no one continued to tease poor Lily any further. As you went back to your table next to Marlene, you realized she was already mixing stuff in her cauldron. You figured most of your friends would be done with their potions before your next meal, so you decided to concentrate on your brew. 

Getting the extract from the glow weed, was the most complicated part since it required an intricate spell and some special distillation skills, but you managed to do it after just a couple of tries. Once that was done, the rest of the potion was actually pretty simple, all you had to do was add the ingredients at the right time and mix according to the instructions. When you finished, you had a cauldron filled with glow potion, it had a golden colour, slightly bright, almost as if there was some light source hidden in the inside of it. You took out the crystal bottles you’d gotten for today and used a ladle to slowly pour the liquid onto them, placing some of the potion in a small bottle with a dropper, and handed it over to your friends so they could add their drops on the potions they’d made.

When you were done, everyone was pleased with their own potions, especially Tom, who had somehow managed to finish his mystery potion without anyone else figuring out what he was making, he placed it on a small crystal bottle with a golden cap and a transparent liquid. You all walked back to the dorms together and divided the little vials amongst Beth and your room. She wasn’t all that close with her roommates, so she took smaller, personal-sized potions while your room got the bigger vials and flasks. Once you placed your small bottle on your trunk, next to some of the other stuff you’d already prepared for your costume, you walked downstairs to wait for the girls in the common room, you grabbed the book Nina had lent you and sat on the couch. Tom came down and plopped down beside you minutes later. 

“What are you reading?” He asked taking the book from your hands and reading the back cover “A spicy werewolf novel?” 

“It was recommended.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” he said with a bit of a cheeky smile and started flipping through the pages, stopping in on a page with a drawing of a shirtless man and eyeing it “Damn, he could rile me.” You raised an eyebrow, “Just look at him!” 

You laughed at that “Didn’t know you liked boys.” 

He shook his head “It’s not that I like them,” he said “I just don’t care if they’re boys, or girls, or anything…” 

You nodded, thinking about it for a second “I think I don’t either.” 

He gave you his signature bright smile and placed his arm over your shoulder, bringing you slightly closer to him “Welcome to the club!”

“Are there many others like us in the school?” 

“You’d be surprised, most of them hide it quite well though, you wouldn’t expect it, you know a few, but it’s not for me to tell. We Brits are pretty open-minded you see.” 

You nodded, “Definitely better than in my old school.” 

When the girls finally came downstairs you all walked out of the common room together, and you stayed with them until you had to split ways since they’d taken a different extracurricular. You walked half of the way to your classroom when you spotted Remus walking by himself, who also walked towards the classroom, so you picked up your pace and caught up with him “Nice to see you again, Rem!” You told him with a smile. 

“How did potion making go?” He asked politely. 

“Excellent, my costume is almost ready!” 

“You’re really going big with it, aren’t you?” He asked, raising one of his eyebrows.

You nodded “It’s my first Halloween at Hogwarts, you guys have set the bar pretty high according to Marlene, I’ve gotta match those high standards.” 

“She said that?” 

You nodded “She told me all about your costumes from previous years, how last Halloween you dressed up as the teachers, McGonagall was mortified when she saw Prongs with an exact replica of her green robes.” 

Remus laughed, remembering that moment “Yeah, she did.” 

“What about you? What are you dressing as this year?” 

He sighed, “Frankly, I don’t have a plan yet, last year was Pads’ idea, and we all followed through, but this year he had a pretty rough summer break and didn’t plan any group costumes, we’re all making our own.” 

“I think you should be a pirate!” You told him simply. 

“A pirate?” 

“You’ve got the sexy pirate vibe going on already, why not?” You asked with a shrug. 

“Sexy pirate vibe?” He asked in disbelief. 

You nodded “Ask anyone, they’ll confirm it.” 

“Confirm what?” James asked as he caught up with the two of you 

“That Remus looks like a sexy pirate.” 

James raised his eyebrows at your words, looking a little impressed, and then turned to his friend “Hmmm…. Yeah, I see it.” 

“See? Told you! It was literally the first impression I got from you.” 

“When I went to pick you up at Dumbledore’s office?” He asked, rather confused.

You shook your head “No! When we you bumped into me at the station. I saw you, and instantly came flashbacks of those spicy novels with shirtless men on the cover.” 

When James heard it, he laughed like a madman, you were right, Moony definitely had the type. “Yours would have you, holding onto the ship’s mast with a barely buttoned white shirt, and the title would be something like The Beast Within,” James said in between laughs. 

Remus gave James a warning look, but you were too occupied gasping at James’ boldness “Are you implying Remus is a beast in bed, Merlin! James, I did not expect you to be cheating on Lily with your best friend!” 

Now it was Remus’ turn to laugh, James’ dumb joke had turned on him “Yeah James, please explain how you’d know anything about my nightly activities… I could be a gentle lover for all you know.” 

“I don’t know about that,” you teased “You do give off the beast in bed vibe.” 

Remus gasped “I’m the chillest of the group.” 

You nodded “It’s always the quiet ones,” you said with an air of mystery. 

When you arrived at the classroom, the three of you struggled to gain back composure and to calm down after the fit of laughter you’d caused each other. Remus went to sit beside Sirius, the first thing he did, was ask him what they were all laughing about, and after being told the story he ended up agreeing with you on two of the things said, First: Remus had to dress as a pirate now, there was no other option. Second: Moony would definitely be a beast in bed. 

Saturday came and went, this time you actually got to go to Hogsmeade for the first time, even if it was more of a business run than a pleasure one, the boys were so focused on getting all the stuff for the party ready that you barely even saw Sirius while you were in town. You spend most of the day with the girls, jumping from shop to shop to get some of the last bits you needed for everyone’s costume. Mary was going to go the easy route, she decided she’d dress as a kitten, her plan was to grab some cat ears and a tail, and enchant them to move like those of a real cat would. 

Marlene was going to do a matching costume with Holden, they’d both go as Sonny and Cher from the video “I Got You Babe”. Marlene had even gotten her hands on a long black wig and a small fur coat. And Holden had actually bought a hair-lengthening potion to match the look. You were certain the two of them would look incredible in their outfits. Beth was going to dress as an astronaut since she was very passionate about space exploration and some of the newer muggle technology advancements. Tom was going to dress up as a vampire and had convinced you to help him charm his canines to look like fangs.

James tried to persuade Lily to do a couple’s costume with him, but she refused every single time he asked, in the end, she decided she’d go as Ophelia, from Hamlet. When James found out he asked Remus to give him a short summary of the story and decided he’d be dressing up as Hamlet, to match with Lily even if she wasn’t expecting it. You honestly considered warning him against it, but he seemed so hopeful and they would look absolutely adorable in the photos so you decided against it. Peter said he’d dress as Edmund Pevensie, from  "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” a book he had read when he took the muggle literature with Remus in 4th year, he’d convinced Teddy Hawthorn to dress as Peter, Annabeth Doxon to be Susan and a girl who you hadn’t met yet to be Lucy.  

Since you didn’t tell Sirius what you were dressing as, he decided he wouldn’t tell you either, so both of your costumes would be a surprise to each other. 

Unfortunately, your visit to Hogsmeade was so hectic, like everyone else’s, that you didn’t even have time to visit any of the restaurants your friends always talked about, you did see the Three Broomsticks from afar, it seemed like a nice and cozy little pub, very English in its type. Tom mentioned they made mean Beef Pasties and even if you weren’t quite sure they were, the way he described them them made them seem utterly delicious. He promised to treat you to some next time you went to Hogsmeade. 

By Sunday, you were all spent, dedicating a good deal of the day to work on your costumes, Hagrid had gifted some pumpkins to Peter and you were carving along with him and Remus in the common room, Beth was gluing some patches to her astronaut costume and Lily worked on adding some details to her dress. James and Sirius were up in their dorm, since James had to work on his secret Hamlet costume, and Sirius on his own secret costume. 

“How does it look,” you said as you turned around your pumpkin for Peter to see it.

He winced when he saw it, but was too nice to say anything negative about it “It’s… a little wonky, it… uh… works with the Halloween theme?” 

You laughed in response and pulled out the book of practical spells Nina had lent you, being sure there had to be something useful there. 

“Want some help?” Remus asked politely, taking your pumpkin and using a small blade to straighten some of your cuts. 

You placed a hand over his shoulders and thanked him before going back to the book, still trying to find a useful spell, but there wasn’t exactly a Halloween section on the index. When you turned back to look at your pumpkin, Remus had already finished up refining it and it looked incredible.

“That’s… Remus, you’re incredible with your hands!” 

“That’s what she said,” Peter said, almost automatically. 

You gasped “Peter!” you said as a little smile drew from your lips. He looked up from his pumpkin mortified, you giggled “Didn’t know you had it in you to make dirty jokes.” 

“You do remember I literally sleep in the same room that Sirius, right? The ability just rubs into me,” he told you with a little smile. You laughed along with Remus. 

You heard some steps from behind and finally saw both Sirius and James walk down the stairs, Sirius casually leaned closer to you and placed a fast kiss on your lips before turning to Moony. You realized he had some glitter on his hair and passed your hand over it to shake it off as he spoke “Ready to go Moons? Pete?” 

Remus checked his watch, and nodded “Yeah, I should probably get going, I’ll see you guys there?”

Peter nodded, “I’ll stay here for a couple minutes more, I want to finish this pumpkin, but I’ll be there.” 

“Excellent, it’s settled then.” 

Sirius finally turned to you, since you were still fluffing his hair “You done love?” 

You shook your head “haven’t seen you much this weekend,” you said with a pout, not quite wanting to take your hands off his head. 

He smiled and tilted his head just a little “Don’t tempt me, I’ll end up staying.” 

You laughed at that, but you knew how important the marauder’s jokes were, so you shook your head “Go ahead trouble, I’ll see you at divinations, yeah?” 

He gave you a look and shrugged with a smile on his face, before giving you a wink and running out behind Peter and James, who had already walked out of the portrait. 

“You’re not planning to skip divinations, are you?” You asked Peter, who gave you an awkward smile in reply. 

“And Remus just said yes?” 

Peter seemed a little nervous at your question, but you didn’t quite understand why he would be “We…. Um— It’s very important business.” 

You frowned, a little unconvinced but nodded, deciding not to question him further, “Ok then, I’ll cover for you lot. I’ll tell Spellman you ate something at Hogsmeade yesterday and that you’re feeling dreadful or something.” 

Peter finally met your gaze “You’d do that for us?” 

“Of course I would!” You said, as if it was obvious “You’re my friends, I’d cover for you any day.” 

Peter smiled “You’re the best!” 

You and Peter cleaned the table and placed the pumpkins near the window before he left. Once he was gone you moved closer to the girls, both Beth and Lily were still working on their costumes, “Need any help?” You asked politely. 

Lily shook her head, but Beth responded “Yeah, can you pass me some of those patches please.” She said as she pointed at the table filled with patches, you carefully picked them up and handed them over. Letting yourself fall on the couch once you were done. You picked up the book Nina had lent you, the spicy novel this time, and finally started to read through it. You’d actually enchanted the cover since clearly it called everyone’s attention with the original one. Now it looked like a copy of a regular old spell book.

“Uh… I’m gonna feel bad if you keep studying while I’m working on a costume.” Lily Pouted from her place on the floor. 

You chuckled “I’m not actually studying though, It’s a spicy romance book Nina lent me, the cover was a bit extra, so I charmed it.” 

Lily gasped, with a smile drawing on her lips as she did. “You sly fox!” 

You smiled at that, laughing as you said “Oh… trust me, you’ve got no idea.” 

“And.. Is it actually spicy?” Beth asked, not looking up from her costume.

You shrugged, “Not sure, haven’t even met the main love interest so far, I’m barely starting the book. But I’ll tell you if it’s good.” You told her before going back to read. Every now and then they would ask you for small favors like holding the fabric for a second or passing something that was closer to you than it was to them. It was nice to just chill with the two redheads for a while. 

After some time Mary and Marlene came from the stairs, you pulled your head from the book and turned to the girls “Is it already time for class?” You asked, surprised.

Mary nodded “9:30, you see?”

“We should probably start walking there, in case the stairs decide to be funny today,” you said as you stood up. 

Both Lily and Beth grabbed their costumes and carefully sat them over a table, you wrote a small note and placed it over them, so that other Gryffindors wouldn’t grab them by accident, or after trying to admire them. Once it was done, you started walking towards the class, Tom caught up with you halfway there, and you all arrived at the astronomy tower with a couple of minutes left. Professor Spellman was already there, and a couple of students were pulling out their own telescopes as well, Tom included among them. The moon was already starting to. fade. According to Tom, who wouldn’t shut up about the way the BIood Moon worked “The moon will almost disappear completely before we can see it again, and when we do, it will turn red.” 

He seemed so fascinated by the event you decided not to tell him you’d read all about it on the pages of the divination book Professor Spellman had you read for today’s class. At some point a Hufflepuff boy walked closer to Tom, smiling brightly as he greeted him “How’s it going Tom?” 

Tom smiled back at him “Brilliant, I was just telling (Y/N) here about the mechanisms of the BIood Moon.” 

“Really? I’d love to hear all about it!” The boy said with a smile. 

You gave Tom a look, raising an eyebrow, he just smiled and winked in return, “Right! I’m sure Tom will know lots about it, I think Marlene’s calling me. See you boys around!” You said, giving Tom a knowing look, and letting the two boys flirt by themselves. 

You were about to walk towards Marlene, when you heard the same howls from the time when you’d gone to the greenhouses with Lily, a lot further away this time, but the same nonetheless. So instead, you turned around and walked to the window closest to the sound. When you reached, you leaned over the edge just a little, to try and see better, but there was nothing but an endless sea of trees, wherever the things making the sound were, they must have been very deep inside the dark forest. Then you felt someone push you over the balcony violently, just to pull you back again with a vicious grip on your shirt “Careful, you may fall,” you heard Evan’s stupid voice as he pretty much pulled you towards his chest, you could feel his hot breath on your neck, disgusting, you wonder how it was possible that you’d considered him attractive at some point. 

You turned around quickly, forcing him to loosen his grip on your shirt “What the hell Rosier?” You hissed. He was not alone either. Severus was on his side and another boy, who you quickly identified as Mulciber. He was taller  with a tank-like complexion, that contrasted with Rosier’s softer looks as water did with oil. You stood your ground, even if you wanted to step back “Awww… did you have to bring your bodyguards along? Too scared to face lil’ old me by yourself?” You mocked, “Don’t worry, I can take Frankestine and Slimmy on any day of the week.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Mulciber said, taking a step forward. 

“Offf, sorry! Guess I should have used a reference a little more keen to your level of knowledge.” 

Evan scoffed, “Do you think it’s a good idea to make fun of him?” He said as he tilted his head, pulling back a little and giving the room a once over “especially without your boyfriends here to protect you.” 

“Please, as if I needed anyone to protect me from you lot. Barty’s fan #1, Lily’s simp and Mr. Big guy” you laughed “you’re joke.” Ok, in hindsight, maybe you were pushing it a bit too hard. But you were not going to let them intimidate you.

Evan grabbed you by the collar and pushed you towards the railing again, you grabbed onto the handle, knuckles white with the force you were using, but you eyed him with a bravery you didn’t know where the hell you’d gotten from. You looked around and smiled, people were crowding up around you “You sure you wanna do that, luv? We’ve got a bit of a crowd here, too many witnesses, right? All though, I’m sure you’d fit in perfectly fine in Azkaban.”  He seemed tempted to drop you, but eventually, he let go and pulled back. You smiled and straightened your uniform “Yeah, I thought so.” 

“This is not over,” he threatened. 

“Bring more henchmen next time,” you mocked with a smile. When he was gone, you turned around to the forest again, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, and looking at the possible fall you could’ve gotten. It would most certainly be mortal. 

Lily pushed through the crowd to reach you, looking at you filled with worry once she caught up “What the hell were you thinking (Y/N)? All that bravado was gonna be worth for nothing had he actually pushed you.” 

“He wasn’t going to push me.” 

“He’s insane, he could have,” she argued.

“Not in front of so many people.”  You insisted, “Not without stupid Barty Crouch around, he’s the only reason Evan’s got anything against me.”

“That was the only reason,” Lily corrected “You insulted them out in the open for the entire class to hear.” 

“They came pushing me into the railing first. I was not going to cry for help.” 

“Ughhh….” She said exasperated, and then pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, “Just promise me you won’t go facing those assholes by yourself. Please don’t be as stupid as the boys.” 

You sighed and returned the hug “I will not  go chasing after them Lily, I promise.” You said, and you really did not intend to do it. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @orkwardx0  @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow

Leve a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

Raead more Marauders Fiction

[keimunnn]

paper heart

KORRA + F!READER

warnings: none really — wlw, use of you/your, just fluffy and angsty <3 a bit of an unusual prompt from years ago but i just corrected them a bit — a bit sloppy and short btw

•

•

•

"Are you listening?"

"Ah, I apologize."

The Avatar sighs out, this was the fourth time she explained the assignment to you. But luckily, Korra wasn't really bothered about it – chuckling it away as she pointed her index finger onto the papers, ready to continue explaining once again.

"Alright. We'll start again, but pay close attention this time."

.

.

.

Her unidentified feelings for you increased through time, having her act differently towards you.

Feeling slight tingles in her stomach, the way she slightly freezes as she makes contact with you – either through bumping your shoulders, accidentally brushing your hands together. A rather short-while eye contact, getting lost in your fascinating eyes as if she was stuck inside for a long time.

Korra never had an idea of what this feeling towards you might be, but she craved for it. She needed it. It made her feel somewhat happy. Knowing that she has never felt such thing before about you at all, she wanted to feel it every day. Every second, every minute, every single day, or night. She might even think it's her new obsession in this current point.

Those thoughts eventually became clear as she asked the brothers, Mako and Bolin, about these feelings she had. Feelings that she, herself, couldn't explain. A weirdly good feeling, at most.

Now, she had an idea as to what he felt. How she felt for you.

.

.

.

"If that's how it is..." You trailed off. A hand reaching out inside your pocket in a hurried manner, you took out a piece of what looked like a heart-shaped piece of paper. Reaching out to give the paper heart to the Avatar, you continued;

"Here. If you wish for my love to be yours truly, have this."

Handing over a rather small cut of paper, shaped of a heart, you smiled sweetly up at her. Korra hesitates, she didn't know what to do. She did not want to be engulfed in artificial love like this, but with you willingly giving up that heart for her – it was her chance.

Holding up her hand, she carefully takes the paper from your hand. Like as paper is much fragile as it makes contact with water, she delicately and slowly sways it on her hand a little, and putting it inside her pocket.

"If that's fine with you, then I'll take good care of your heart." Korra promises, a loving gaze sent towards you as she reached out to grasp your hand gently, bringing it up to her lips with a soft kiss.

.

.

.

"Look at them, reminding me of the time we were still in our youth, dear."

Passing right by you and Korra, an old woman muttered lowly to her husband in a rather sweet tone of hers – catching both of your attention as you smile and wave at them.

Letting your hand hold on to Korra's arm, she leads you to a garden full of beautifully coloured flowers. You gasped in delight, stars in your eyes. You gently let go of Korra's arm, walking towards the garden.

Kneeling down, you touched the delicate petals of the grass and dandelions. It was slowly turning dark, though the spirits were there providing light as they glowed around the garden. A wonderful sight, as some may say.

Hearing some light shuffling from a few feet behind you, you looked towards Korra, who had her arms crossed, looking back at you with gentle admiration. Smiling at the Avatar, you waved her over, gesturing her to come closer – to which she complied.

"Isn't the view beautiful?"

Chuckling, Korra nodded, her eyes fixated on you. Her hand raises to gently grab ahold of the ends of your hair, bringing the strands up to her face and pressed her lips on them when she kneeled down beside you.

"You're beautiful."

You were knelt down as you were checking on the flowers, the sun had set down, the grass were flowing by the wind. The sky looked amazing, to say at least. Giggling lowly, you wrapped your arms around her, showing appreciation to her burst of affection for you on this lovely evening. Your feelings for her grow even more and more each day.

.

.

.

Korra seemed busier these days than normal. Eight hours in Republic City—five or even six hours at the United Republic's meetings. Eyebags under her eyes, indicating her lack of sleep. You were worried for her, but whenever you brought it up, she would wave it off—saying she was all right as to not worry you.

Plus, she mentioned she was also working for the United Forces, being that she was the Avatar after all. Apparently these were urgent, and the meetings at the headquarters were also an emergency. All you could think about is that—could they at least give her time to rest?

Though, you couldn't say anything. You didn't have the right to do that. You were only the Avatar's lover, no one else, sadly.

.

.

.

"I'm so sorry, something came up and–"

"You need to solve it in time, I understand. Don't worry, Korra. But you best be resting up. That's the only thing I'd ask of you."

Hugging her close, you pleaded. Your lips pressed and peppered kisses all over her face softly. You did not want them to tire her out that much, she needed rest. Lots of them. You were worried for her health. She's been skipping her meals so she could tend to the United Republic's urgent affairs immediately. So that she could spend time with you all over again.

But for you, you have had enough.

.

.

.

"President Raiko, please."

Your voice trembled lightly, you gripped on to your arm, hoping he would accept your request. Though, he had only responded with a stern tone;

"It's for the good of Republic City's people, we have to fix this as soon as possible. We are trying our best, and then, we'll be fini–"

Walking furiously towards his office desk, in front of him, you slammed your hands on the table.

"Why is she the only one working for this case, along with the United Forces— no, with only Chief Beifong? What are the other officials doing?"

"Miss, calm down. It's for the greater good—your greater good."

You froze at that.

"...What do you mean by that?"

President Raiko looked down, rubbing his temples as he had accidentally slipped up with his words and ended up explaining it to you afterwards.

.

.

.

"Burn it. It's the only way, Korra."

Korra wanted to solve this case because it involved you. She wanted to fix you, your past, everything. She wanted to find a solution to everything, even you.

Ever since you have known about her working herself off to find and create a cure for you, you wanted to just fall on your knees, rip your hair out, and scream out loud for the whole of the four nations to hear.

You never knew... that you could destroy the world with just giving your whole heart out to someone you love, submitting into commitment. You never knew loving another could hurt the entire universe physically. That is the reason you have pulled out your paper heart from Korra's pocket, convincing her to burn it. You were an anomaly to this world. You weren't human as you thought you were.

"Do it, Korra. That way, you don't have to suffer from all of this. You don't have to suffer because of me. You can still save the world as the Avatar."

Lighting up a small torch, you handed it to her, gesturing Korra to do it. The Avatar was against the idea, wanting to live life to the fullest with you by her side. You loved her, and she loved you even more.

"And that way, the destruction of the world you've sworn to protect would never happen."

Tearing up, Korra looked down, her hair shadowing over her gorgeous blue eyes. Looking up at you once again, she sniffles and mutters lowly in her soft voice.

"I'll always love you." She whispered, pulling you close into a kiss. Tears slipped down her cheeks, mirroring yours as she pressed you to her.

.

.

.

There, she saw the paper heart burn in her own hands. Trembling lightly on her feet, pain circling around her head as she lets go of the burning paper heart to clutch on her head—hopefully to make the pain go away, to which she failed.

Slowly, but surely, the memories of a certain lover was erased throughout Korra's mind. Every single individual that had known your existence—the memories of you were erased in their heads. As for you, everything was also erased. Including your love for a certain avatar. It had seemed that love was never an option for you.

A love that was burnt into flames.

•

•

•

this has actually been in my notes app as a prompt from years ago and i had finally got it off of my waiting list yay! but anyway, i guess this is pretty confusing(?) to write because i honestly wanted to be creative but I DON'T KNOOWWWWWW it's pretty abrupt and short, sorry for that huhu but i do hope it's alright <3 (i'm also still getting used to tumblr mwa mwa)

[eyeritestuff]

“I’m home.”

——

Tom (Eddsworld) x Reader [FUTURE AU]

Characters: Tom

Warnings: none,, just sad or whateva (send help)

Author’s note: don’t ask where i got inspo… short bc erm yah :3 i didn’t check for typos so oopsies !

——

The night was bleak, but yet somehow managed to house life with all of the neon city lights. You let out breath, only to see it animate as smoke in front of you. It was nothing you weren’t already used to, however living in America for 10 years will make you appreciate the little sun home had.

You had just got off the plane and were awaiting a bus to your hotel. You came here on impulse.. you were starting to get anxiety at the idea. What was the whole purpose of this trip? You tried to quell it, and so you looked down at your phone to see a missed call from- oh.. oh.

Immediately, you unlock your phone and redial, and with the same amount of swiftness, the other side picked up.

“Hello?”

His voice, it sounded so different. It was woven with misery. It’s not the him you knew. Of course, in the past he always had his monotone and sassy way of responding, but it’s.. different. Does he even know? He hasn’t called you all this time up until this point.. he had to know.

“Tom..?”

You choked out. Why were you getting emotional? This didn’t make any sense. You missed him, yes, vbht he hurt you. It’s probably the nostalgia from being at here again. At home.

But home didn’t look like home anymore.

“ahh.. y/n..,” he sighed and your breath hitched, “i’m sorry.. i’m so so sorry.”

You grabbed your stuff and got off of the bench you were sat at and started walking.

“Please don’t hang up, and listen. I don’t know why I didn’t call. I think about you every night. I was mad... I think I was mad. I was hurt you didn’t even hesitate to leave. I didn’t show up at the airport the day you left and I regret it everyday. The promise you made all those years ago.. we were teenagers, I know, but I can’t help but remind myself of it every time I think of you.”

Your walking pace started getting faster. Next thing you knew, you took a sharp left turn, then a right, then you continued on straight. Your body was guiding you at this point, but you didn’t care. As long as the tears didn’t fall. You listened intently as his breath hitched and couldn’t help but feel your stomach turn.

“I got the letter you sent me.. and I never wrote back. I’m sorry. I read it everyday. I tried writing back, and I’ve kept every draft. I want to read it to you one day.. I don’t know when that day will be, but y/n.. when I read the last part.. when you said ‘Til infinity.. did you really mean it? Do you still love me? Did the feelings ever leave?? Y/n I can’t begin to apologize enough..”

Next time your conscious decided to check up on your surroundings, you were in a building signing a visitor list with your shoulder prompting up your phone to your ear.

“Y/n.. I love you. I never stopped loving you. I was hurt, and I was upset.. that I lost the only person I ever recognized as a part of me. I didn’t want your happiness to depend on me. I wanted you to have the world, and the luxuries I couldn’t afford you. For fuck sake y/n, I could barely afford repairing Susan. I saw how much you wanted to become a doctor.. so I thought letting you go would be best,” he let out a sad chuckle, and it made you flash a sad smile in return, “I’m probably not making any sense, am I? Whatever.. I just needed to get this out to you.”

You found yourself standing in a doorway to an office. You didn’t dare make a noise once you realized where you were: It was his office.

How’d you even think to come here.. when did you even ask the front desk for directions? How’d you know— well, you knew what he was up to because Matt did keep in contact. Still, it made your stomach do flips.

You heard him speak twice over because you hadn’t dare hang up, “Y/n… you don’t have to say anything but..” He stopped, and so did your heart. The feedback from the phones was enough to make the back that was facing you turn. To say he looked different was an understatement.

You watched as his frown turned into a shaky smile, then into a frown again, but this time he bit down on his lip. Probably to stop the quivering. You couldn’t tell if he was crying due to the goggles he had on, but you knew he was in shock by the way he shakily stood up.

Your heart sank watching how he tried to stay strong for you.

The tears fell when he hung up.

The sobs followed when you closed the door behind you.

Tom slowly moved from behind his desk to get closer to you, only for him to run towards you after watching your legs struggle to keep you up. Falling into his arms, you clung onto him for dear life. He smelled so nice.. the alcohol scent was softer now.. did he lay off a little? All the memories your dream job helped you repress came rushing back. He was your first kiss, your first boyfriend, your first true best friend… your first everything.

“I left you.. I broke our promise, and I’m so sorry Tom-” he interrupted, “You were my responsibility and I avoided you because I was being selfish.”

You looked up at him, and him down at you.

“I love you so much… you look so miserable… yet you look so pretty.. you’ve grown up.” You tried to smile but you realized it probably looked like you were dying, and the awkward laugh you choked out ended up sounding like a whimper.

Burying your face into his chest, you spoke muffled, “I regret leaving you. I was selfish.. and I didn’t think of you-” “No y/n-” “Listen.. please.. I don’t need the money. At least not anymore. I wanna be here with you again. I wanna be with you.. again. I wanna have the stupid family you always spoke about.. you know.. the one with the mutated dog and a daughter with the inability to tell her left from the right..”

You heard a chuckle rumble from him and began to pet your head, “I can’t believe you remember that..” Oh his voice sounded sad.. like he was crying. Brace for rejection, is what you told yourself.

“Id like that a lot y/n..”

You looked up to see Tom, now without his goggles.. Oh his eyes… what happened to your love when you were away. You couldn’t help but cry harder seeing him like that. You weren’t there for him. You watched as his face grew pained watching your reaction. Like a child, you rubbed your eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Tom… I love you so much. There’s so much I want to say but I can’t manage to stop.. barely even speak… could you ever forgive me..? For doing this to you.. for leaving you like this..”

You felt his hand gently grace your face.. what once was a soft hand turned rough.

“I’d forgive you a hundred times over if it meant I got to hold you again.”

[safe-from-sharp-teeth]

Ayo! I haven't answered asks in FOREVER, so it's time for some spring cleaning :) Also answering other stuff, like what I've been up to.

If you sent an ask and it's not here, sorry! I may have deleted it because the prompt required too much work of me and I wasn't feeling it, or I was uncomfortable.

Let's gooooo !

Firstly - where have I been? Work REALLY picked up in a way I wasn't expecting over the last...4 months? I was working double and often triple the hours I was used to. With work, vacations, random illnesses, and many video games I got a bit too obsessed with, this blog took a backseat. Plus, sometimes I get disinterested in vore when obsessed with something else. Sometimes, that lasts months, and it did this time.

But now I can confirm that work will FINALLY chill for a long period of time. I'm free! And more motivated than ever! Wahoo! Thanks for your support ALWAYS.

Next big question - when am I going to do more of my story? The one with Asyr? AHHHHHGHHGHH this story has consumed my life. I think about it daily. I dream about it. And yet I'm not as comfortable writing as I am drawing, so writing is a slow process that my perfectionist ass struggles with. I can assure you that there is a story in the works - and I am working on it at a snail's pace.

Okay, ask time...

@ponyluvesonic09 AYO maybe I'll make a full ghost pred pros/con list for you, because that sounds awesome! Kir//by is one of the silliest canon preds out there. Honestly getting eaten by him would be like getting vored by a vacuum, LOL. Galaxy tummy!! Imagine a prey floating around in one of those item bubbles all grumpy. Thank u for the ask, this is good stuff.

no. ( /・・)ノ

UWAGHHHHH I LIKE HER!!! Never played O/verwat/ch but what a gem!! I have a random fondness for centaur-like preds nowadays. She looks so cozy. THANK U I LOVE HER!!!

@tiger9o0 I have not played r//ain w//orld or know what it's about, LOL. Looks like a platformer? Man, I'm terrrriiiiibblleee at those. But whoever this is on the cover, I LIKE EM. A+. (That might not answer ur question shdjbghkjg SORRY)

@heimkoheimkofan LOVE THAT I GOT THE ROBOT ENJOYERS AFTER THAT ONE POST....YES yall are so right and I'm so wrong for just hard metal robot tums. I will rectify my mistake soon I PROMISE. Also oh! You were the one asking about stomachs other than elemental ones! IVE HAD THAT IN MY DRAFTS FOREVER IM SORRY AHHHH. I REALLY love your imagination with tums and you've inspired me to think of some awesome environments! THANKS

@fastfur07 BWAH?? Ugh I'm all over the place when it comes to art. Some pieces take 30 min (like the zangooc I drew at the top of this post), most take 2 days. Some really hard drawings like my wolf bat creechur from a few months ago and my shrimp from last year took a month. THANK U??

We're going back so far that I think this is about my naga oc (which I'm in the midst of redesigning cough cough). For him, he would never tolerate being prey, extremely unwilling bahaha. In general, I haven't thought much about naga or snake prey! I get the appeal of slurping up a noodle, but I just prefer human prey :)

@fastfur07 you fiend, you always give me the best drawing ideas. UNFORTUNATELY, I didn't have time to draw something for this one. BUTTTT....

(i've had this next one in my drafts for forever)

then i had a silly comic. I'll post the wip here because I won't finish it, so enjoy bahaha.

@blizzaria123-blog THANK U im rapidly melting into a puddle from ur words

@mrpotatomanversionsix relevant. i will continue drawing them 4 u

?!??!!??!?!??!?!?!??!?!? how dare u enter my ask box with this blasphemy

@sfwsillynoms WAH!!! you!!! I'm currently redesigning my naga oc but when I finish I'll tag you, if you're still around! And he can 100% be drawn with ur preysona :)

@mystorl i am SO late to this, but SMART. I like it. I shall give my lil guy this friend. I just want to let u know that I see this and it's wonderful and I will do something abt it.

I remember this ask made me laugh a ton when I first got it. thank u. idk why I find this so funny

@sillylilprey IM CRYING RIGHT BACK AHHHH this is an ancient ask, but thank u! hope you're still enjoying!

@terrytheinsane finally, the last ask in my askbox. I love it. You have been wronged with how long it took me to answer you. I have gained knowledge from your ask. THANKS

AND THAT'S IT!! Thanks guys, I hope to make you proud! Feel free to send more asks, and hopefully I will answer in a TIMELY manner.

Goodnight! And remember: Nice Vore ᕕ༼⌐■-■༽ᕗ

[isa-beenme]

friends to lovers with Azriel? they’re both secretly pining after each other and even flirt but it has never gone past that

Fun fact: I received 3 or 4 of the same request of friends to lovers and now I have to think of different stories for each of them (how much do I hate myself? Here's the answer)

One more prompt babies (getting in trouble), send the request for her so I can finish the bingo or I'll never write again 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

Also, please comment on the posts, I get super happy and it definitely makes me go back to Google Docs to finish what I'm currently writing

I Think He Knows

It basically started weeks ago when you were researching something you couldn't even remember what it was that Rhysand asked. You were deep into the books, nothing was making sense in your mind and frustration was starting to set in as you struggled to find the answers you sought. Azriel silently slipped into the library and observed you from the shadows, captivated by the sight of you so concentrated and focused on your work. He noticed the frustration building in you, unable to resist, he stepped forward, revealing himself with his usual quiet grace.

-Need some assistance? - His velvet voice reached your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. You looked up, your eyes locking with his, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.

-Well, I wouldn't mind a second opinion on this research - You replied, trying to maintain your composure despite the sudden warmth spreading through your cheeks.

Azriel moved closer, leaning over your shoulder to examine the texts you had been poring over. The close proximity sent your heart racing, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

-You're looking in the wrong section - He said softly, his fingers brushing against yours as he pointed to a nearby shelf.

Your hands touched, and you both felt a jolt of electricity shoot through you. You glanced up, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Azriel's lips quirked into a faint smile, as if he knew the effect he had on you.

-Let me show you - He offered, gesturing for you to follow him.

You walked together through the aisles of books, discussing the research, and exchanging ideas. You found yourself drawn to Azriel's intellect and the way he effortlessly wove his knowledge into the conversation. As you spoke, the flirtatious undertones became more evident. You teased each other playfully, your laughter filling the library like music. It was as if you had known each other for years, despite the fact that this was the first time you had engaged in a real conversation alone.

Usually all your interactions with the Inner Circle had Rhysand's presence. And besides the fact that you considered and was equally considered by all of them as a friend, this was the first time you actually talked alone with Azriel, no need to keep formality or the topic of work getting in the way. The more you flirted, the more you realized how easy it was to be yourself around him. Walls that you had carefully built began to crumble, revealing your true self, vulnerable and unguarded.

The spark of attraction between you was undeniable, and it left both of you surprised and intrigued. It was a dance you hadn't expected to partake in, but neither of you could resist the magnetic pull that drew you closer.

As the night wore on, you reluctantly bid each other farewell, promising to meet again in the library to help each other if necessary. But even as you walked away, your thoughts were consumed by him and only him.

In the days that followed, your flirtatious encounters continued, fueled by a desire you couldn't ignore. Each meeting left you wanting more, and yet you hesitated, unsure of the depths you were diving into. Suddenly you were being invited to family dinners and the Valkyries' training. You weren't sure who exactly you should blame: Rhysand and his necessity of taking you under his wing or Azriel with the need of having you closer to him. Somehow you knew the answer without asking directly.

The Night Court's dinner table was a scene of elegance and camaraderie as the Inner Circle gathered for their nightly meal. Amidst the laughter and casual conversations, Azriel and you found yourselves seated beside each other, eyes locked in a silent promise of something more. Your foot unintentionally brushed against Azriel's calf under the table, sending a thrill through both of you. Azriel's fingers ghosted along the back of your hand, a subtle invitation to continue the game you started playing.

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged bemused glances, sensing the charged atmosphere between their two friends. Feyre tried to hide a knowing smile, while Amren raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. You carefully leaned in, your lips so close to Azriel's ear that your warm breath sent shivers down his spine.

-You're playing a dangerous game - You whispered, your voice laden with mischief.

-Danger happens to be my job, dear - Azriel replied, his voice husky and filled with desire.

As the dinner conversation flowed around you, Azriel and you engaged in a subtle dance of seduction beneath the table. Your fingers intertwined, your touch light but electrifying, as you teased each other with playful caresses. You let your fingers trail along Azriel's forearm, relishing the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. Azriel responded in kind, brushing his thumb across the outside of thigh, deliberate circles that left your craving more.

The rest of the Inner Circle exchanged glances, unable to believe what you were witnessing. Cassian leaned over to Rhysand, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

-I think we're witnessing the birth of a mating bond - He teased, causing Rhysand to chuckle. Across the table, Mor was trying her best to suppress a grin, while Amren simply rolled her eyes, unimpressed by your antics.

Nestha, always one to relish in mischief, decided to stir the pot. With a sly grin, she looked at Azriel and you at his side, already planning a way to burst the bubble you settle yourselves in.

-So, Shadowsinger, what's the most daring thing you've ever done? Cassian just told his - Her mate looked at her confused, until he realized her plan and agreed along with the rest of the table. Azriel's eyes twinkled with mischief as he slightly turned his gaze towards you.

-Oh, I think I'd rather show than tell - You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, but you didn't back down.

-And what about you, Rhys? What's the most thrilling thing you've ever experienced that didn't involve your mate? - You turned to Rhysand and asked with a playful glint in your eye. The High Lord only chuckled, sensing the game you were playing.

-Well, it might just be seeing the way Azriel flirts with someone he cares about, it's rather fun, to say the least - He replied, glancing pointedly at his spymaster.

Azriel's lips quirked up in a knowing smile, and he leaned towards you, his voice low and suggestive, as he spoke high enough for everyone at the table to hear.

-Oh, don't worry, my love, I save my best for you - Your heart skipped a beat at his response, but you maintain your composure, turning the tables again. You looked at Cassian, one that looked very amused by the whole interaction.

-Cassian, have you ever been so captivated by someone that you couldn't take your mind off them to the point you simply did and said stupid things all the time? - Cassian grinned, understanding the game and more than willing to play along.

-Well, you see, I have a habit of getting distracted by a certain female warrior with mesmerizing eyes - He replied, winking at Nesta, who rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smile.

-And what about you, Az? Have you ever been so captivated by someone that left you breathless? - Azriel met your gaze with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

-Every time I look at you - He answered, his voice soft and sincere. Feyre quickly interrupted the moment to get Nyx who started to cry in his bedroom, cutting out the atmosphere that was building up.

The next day you had to keep working as if nothing changed, even if you and Azriel were becoming more and more shameless at each encounter. The library in the Night Court was always a sanctuary of knowledge, and you found solace amidst the ancient texts and dusty books. The spymaster often changed his plans to find you there, absorbed in the magic of the written word, only to engage in another one of the flirtatious conversations you always lead each other, even if this wasn't exactly the original plan.

In this particular afternoon, you were stretching on your tiptoes, trying to reach a book on the highest shelf. As you strained to grasp it, you felt a familiar presence behind you. A soft, warm breath grazed the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Azriel's velvety voice caressed your ear,

-Need some help? - You turned to find Azriel standing so close that you could feel the heat emanating from his body. Your heart fluttered, but you masked your flustered state with a playful smirk.

-Oh, so you're finally offering to be useful, Shadowsinger? - You teased, your eyes locking with his. A mischievous glint danced in Azriel's eyes as he reached for the book, effortlessly retrieving it from the shelf. Instead of handing it to you, he held it just out of your reach, enjoying the proximity between your bodies.

-I always knew you'd come to appreciate my usefulness - He replied, his voice low and teasing.

You refused to back down, your competitive spirit coming to the surface. You leaned in, closing the distance between you, and attempted to snatch the book from his grasp. But Azriel was too quick, tilting his hand just enough to evade you. Your faces were now mere inches apart, and the tension between you crackled like electricity. With a smoldering look, Azriel brought the book down slightly, just teasingly close to your fingers.

-If you want it, you'll have to work for it - He challenged, his lips quirking into a seductive smile.

Your breath hitched at the playful yet alluring demeanor of the warrior. Determined to match his boldness, you leaned in even closer, allowing your lips to brush against his.

-I don't mind a little challenge - A low growl rumbled in Azriel's throat, and he gave up, handing you the book. But he didn't step back, instead, he closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his body against yours, creating an intoxicating blend of heat and desire.

Your eyes locked once more, and the air around you crackled with tension. Without thinking, Azriel's fingers grazed your cheek, tracing a path along your jawline. Yourheart pounded wildly, the sensation of his touch igniting a fire within you.

-You have no idea what you do to me - Azriel admitted huskily, his voice thick with desire.

-Show me - You whispered, unable to resist the pull you felt towards him any longer.

In that moment, the world around you ceased to exist. The library faded away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a haze of passion and longing. With an intensity you had both kept bottled up for too long, you surrendered to each other's embrace, your lips meeting in a fiery kiss that ignited a love that had been simmering beneath the surface.

Your whispered affections and tender touches among the books unveiled the truth you had both been hiding – that you were more than friends, that your souls had found your match. Your lips couldn't seem to snap away from his, the book long forgotten in the ground as you entangled your hands in his hair and pulled him closer.

-... Are you somewheEAHHH - Gwyn's scream made you separate from Azriel in a flash, her eyes almost popping out of her head as she took in the scene in front of her, all the priestess around stepping closer to understand the commotion - Clotho is asking if you found the book - She pointed behind her, a smile playing in her as the Shadowsinger quickly bid you goodbye and ran away. You threw the book at your friend when she started to laugh - I just want to see how the training is going to be tomorrow.

And honestly? You wanted to know too.

Training sessions in the House of the Wind were usually filled with a lot of matches between the girls and intense training, but today was different. You and Azriel found yourselves paired together as a matter of destiny, the air around you charged with an electric tension that couldn't be ignored. As you sparred, the other Valkyries couldn't help but watch, completely shocked by the intense flirtation that unfolded before them. Gwyneth being the one pinpointing the looks you threw to him.

Your eyes locked with Azriel's as you circled each other, each movement purposeful and tantalizing. He could see the fire burning in your eyes, and it only fueled his desire to provoke you further . With a smirk, he raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge, inviting you to make the first move.

You didn't disappoint. In a swift motion, you lunged, your blades dancing gracefully through the air. Azriel effortlessly parried your strikes, your weapons clashing with a resounding echo. But beneath the fierce combat, there was an undercurrent of something more, a seductive dance of pure desire from the last day. Azriel leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your ear as you defended his attack.

-You are fighting with such passion today, what happened? - He laughed when you pushed him far from you with a kick - It's almost intoxicating - A shiver ran down the reader's spine as you met his gaze, unyielding.

-I'm just getting started - You replied, your voice dripping with provocation - Someone started something and couldn't finish. Let's see if you can end this fight at least.

Your banter continued as you moved in sync, each anticipating the other's moves. The sexual tension between you was palpable, and the other Valkyries couldn't tear their eyes away, their training momentarily forgotten. Azriel's wings unfurled slightly, showcasing his strength and power.

-You know - He suddenly said, his voice deep and alluring, but not low enough to not let your public hear, ever the exhibitionist he was - I could show you a few moves that aren't part of the regular training regimen - Your cheeks flushed when you heard the gasps from the other females, but you didn't back down. Instead, you leaned in even closer, your body inches from his.

-And what kind of moves are those, Shadowsinger? - You purred, your tone daring him to reveal his thoughts.

-The kind that leaves you breathless - He teased, the double entendre not lost on the watching Valkyries when some of them let out small screams of excitement.

- I bet you could teach me something new, anyway - A wicked grin tugged at the corners of your mouth when he growled after your words, trying to strike you down.

The training session continued with a fervor, the intensity between you and Azriel growing with each exchange. Your bodies moved in harmony, pushing each other to new limits. At one point, you managed to disarm Azriel and pin him to the ground, and for a brief moment, you had the upper hand. But Azriel didn't seem bothered by it; instead, he wore an approving smile.

-Impressive - He murmured, his voice dripping with admiration.

Your closeness was almost suffocating, the desire between you reaching a breaking point. The other Valkyries exchanged glances, unsure if they should intervene or let the fiery tension run its course.

As the training session came to an end, you and Azriel stood face to face, breathing heavily from the exertion. The intensity in your eyes was undeniable, and you both knew that this was just the beginning of something. The Valkyries couldn't help but gasp as Azriel leaned in, his lips dangerously close to yours.

-You have no idea of what you've done to me, the hunger you awake - He whispered, his voice dark and alluring.

-If it's any closer to what I'm feeling then you better be prepared to satisfy it, Shadowsinger - With a playful smile, you replied before you stepped away from the training grounds, leaving the other Valkyries in a state of awe and disbelief. Your flirtatious dance had left a remarkable message between you and Azriel, one that you would try to ignore as best as you could, even against your will.

Weeks of tension and flirting had passed between you and Azriel. The subtle glances, teasing words, lingering touches, and sometimes a kiss or other had kept both of your hearts racing. Yet, neither of you dared to take the leap beyond your friendship. One evening, after a gathering at the Town House, you found yourself seeking solace and guidance from Feyre, always the good listener High Lady. She smiled knowingly as you spilled your heart out, admitting your crush on Azriel and detailing the last few weeks of encounters with him, not knowing when to point out the sudden change in your friendship with him.

-You know, I don't think he's disinterested in you. Azriel is just cautious, especially with matters of the heart - Feyre reassured you, caressing your head that was in her lap.

-I mean, he's obviously not disinterested in me. The thing is, does he want a relationship or just this weird kissing friendship we are doing? I think he knows I like him, it's impossible to not know. Even Nyx confirmed, he called me auntie, it's because I'm gonna marry his uncle, right? - She laughed at you, and you playfully smack her arm - I'm being serious. Solve this problem, you are the High Lady, you're supposed to be serious when one of your subjects needs help.

-Do you want a relationship with him, darling? - You stopped to think about her question, the moments you spent with Azriel popping in your head, before and after the mess you created, a smile growing in your face at the memories.

-Yes. Definitely - You whispered, receiving a smile from Feyre as well, her eyes shining with some suspicious glint behind them.

-Then tell him. He might be waiting for your confession too - You quickly nodded, giving her a kiss on the cheek before getting up from your spot.

Feeling a bit more encouraged, you returned to your quarters, unaware that Azriel had overheard the entire conversation from the shadows. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized the depth of your feelings for him, and he knew it was time to act over his own.

Before you could even close the door behind you, Azriel stepped out of the darkness and into your room. Startled, you turned to face him, but before you could speak, he gently closed the door and pinned you against the wood with a mixture of intensity and tenderness. His hazel eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of hesitation.

-I've known about your feelings - He admitted in a husky whisper - And I've been a fool for not making a move sooner - A shiver ran down your spine as his warm breath caressed your skin.

-Azriel - You managed to say, your heart racing with anticipation. He cupped your face with his hand, his thumb stroking your cheek softly.

-I've been in love with you too, but I was scared. Scared of losing our friendship, scared of hurting you, of making something wrong, of you changing your mind, I don't know - He confessed. You placed your hand over his heart, feeling it race beneath your touch.

-I don't want to lose you either - You could only admit, your voice filled with vulnerability as you couldn't say anything else.

-You won't - Azriel assured you, his voice steady but full of emotion - I promise to cherish and protect what we have, and I'll prove my devotion to you everyday from now on, if you let me - You could only agree under his eyes, your body heating at each word.

With that, he leaned in, closing the distance between you and capturing your lips in a tender, passionate kiss. The world around you melted away once again as you fully surrendered to the feelings you had kept hidden for so long.

Your hands explored each other's bodies gently, reveling in the newfound intimacy between you. Azriel's touch was both passionate and cautious, showing his care for you. As you deepened the kiss, you knew that this moment would mean the world from now on.

[buckychristwrites]

Idk if you take requests outside of the prompt lists you’re doing right now, but I had a concept I feel like you would write AMAZINGLY so I just had to tell you, feel free to ignore if you don’t vibe with it! So, reader and Jamie in a relationship, he’s trying to take things slow and not be as focused on the physical like he was in past relationships. Meanwhile however reader is aware of his reputation, and starts to feel undesirable, like there’s something wrong with them because of how slow things are going, and starts feeling insecure that they aren’t good enough for Jamie to want ‘like that’. Angst and accidental miscommunication abound! But obviously things are explained and there’s a happy ending

This made me think of the idea that @imfalling-inlove sent me that i posted about a few days ago. So i’m gonna kind of combine the ideas a little bit, i hope the both of you don’t mind!

-

The night hadn’t been a particularly pleasant one. Not for you, anyway.

The hotel mirror casted your reflection back at you. You stared, turning and poking at yourself. Could this be smaller? Could that be bigger? With every second that passed, another bullet point was added to the list of things you’d change about yourself if given the chance. And the list was already quite long before you started tonight’s excursion.

“What’re ya doin’?”

You didn’t immediately answer, instead just continuing to push your abdomen inwards, as if the extra squish would just dissipate into your skin and stay there.

Jamie Tartt’s reflection appeared behind yours, his eyebrows knitted together as he watched you.

“Oi,” He said, putting a hand on your shoulder. Instinct made you pull away.

“Do you think I’m ugly?” You asked him. He jerked his head to the side.

“What?”

“Is that why you won’t touch me? Is it because i’m hideous?”

You felt hysterical as the emotions continued to well up in your chest and pour out of your mouth, but you didn’t care. Everything was hurting. Your head. Your chest. Your heart. You felt like you were bleeding. Jamie continued to stare.

“Who said-“

“You literally had your dream girl,” You continued as if he didn’t speak. “You had Keeley’s poster on your wall as a kid. And now you’re settling for stupid, ugly, fat fucking me.”

And it wasn’t just Keeley you thought of. It was all of the beautiful women who had come in and out of Jamie’s very public life over the years. While you claimed his larger than life body count didn’t bother you, it was hard to ignore that there was something about you that made you an outlier comparatively to the rest.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Jamie said defensively. You turned to face him, your back towards the mirror. It was easier to speak to him through the glass, though. Now your eyes welled with more tears.

“There has to be an explanation to why you would force yourself to be with me when you could have anyone, Jamie,” You said flatly. He shook his head.

“I don’t fuckin’ want just anyone.”

“Then how come you can sleep with them but not me?”

“‘Cos you’re fuckin’ different!” He was raising his voice, which made you realize that you had already raised yours.

“Different as in a rest stop until you find another destination to head to?”

“Different as in I wanna fuckin’ marry ya!”

The argumentative attitude fled your body like a criminal on the run. Jamie’s chest was heaving up and down.

“Wh-“

“I see my future in your fuckin’ eyes,” He hissed, taking a step closer. “You’re different ‘cos I wanna watch ya walk down the aisle in a white dress. You’re different ‘cos I wanna have ten kids with ya. Or no kids with ya. But any kids I have, they better fuckin’ be yours. You’re different ‘cos I wanna be in me 80’s, slow dancin’ with ya in the kitchen. And you’re different ‘cos I wanted to take this slow so you didn’t think I was just fuckin’ ‘round!”

He ran his hands through his hair as you watched, dead silent.

“Keeley may have been a girl I dreamt about but you are literally the woman of my dreams. I couldn’t’ve invented ya if I tried.”

Carefully, he took another step closer, putting his hands on your sides and pulling you forward so your forehead was against his cheek.

“As for the rest…” He said quietly, shaking his head against your skin. “I’ll spend the rest of me life provin’ that you are the most beautiful, sexy, incredible woman I’ve ever laid me eyes on if I have to.”

[youssefguedira]

Some prompt ideas for you!

Nicky and Quynh as best friends, doing some ritual or activity together that they used to do before, again after she escapes from the sea and is healing

Andy as a baby immortal, doing some dumb dangerous shit. Maybe she's doing it to help someone and it's an external pov a la your "I have seen angels in my time" series?

Joe and Lucia after he and Nicky go back to find her. Maybe he's tentative about whether she'll understand or accept them being in love, they have a serious conversation, and then it turns into her telling him embarrassing baby/teenager Nicky Stories?

Absolutely love your writing and your Lucia stories are currently some of my absolute favorites ❤️

hellooooo i know you sent this forever ago but i have been thinking about family and Them lately so. this is set a couple years after the end of if i ask you to stay wherein nicky and joe have returned to stay with lucia for a bit ! it's not quite joe being nervous about whether she'll accept them or not (she largely already has) but it DOES turn into embarassing teenage nicky stories so i hope you enjoy

"Yusuf, come help me with this," Lucia says.

It's become something of a ritual, and so Yusuf is now comfortable joining her at the counter as she splits the dough into two parts and passes one to him. Outside, Nicolò is herding the goats towards the hills and having only partial success; one of the kids splits off from the herd and starts charging back towards the house, making Nicolò curse loudly enough that they can hear him faintly through the window. Lucia chuckles.

"I am glad he will have you, you know," she says. She tosses a handful of flour over the counter and begins to knead the dough. Yusuf follows suit. "After."

They don't talk about after often, even if all three of them know. For the most part, Yusuf tries not to think about it, and he knows Nicolò does the same, though it haunts every single thing they do, a constant shadow. There are still nights where Nicolò barely speaks, overcome by it.

"Did he ever tell you why our father sent him to seminary?" she continues.

"Enough," Yusuf says.

Lucia hums. She's quiet for a while. Outside, Nicolò resorts to picking up the wayward kid and carrying it with him while he herds the rest; it busies itself chewing on his sleeve.

"I only ever wanted him to be happy," she says. "When he left for the seminary I had hoped that it would bring him some kind of peace, even if it was not what he chose. But then he decided to go to Jerusalem, and, well. He never did tell me why. And I did not think about it beyond the fact that it was taking him away, and that I would likely never see him again. He has not told me many details about what happened to him - to you both - there, but I understand enough. But even despite all of it, I am glad he found you in the end."

"I am too," Yusuf says quietly.

"He was always so..." She waves one hand in the air as if searching for the right word, scattering a light cloud of flour that shimmers in the morning sun. "Uncertain. But he seems so much more settled, around you." She smiles at him, and Yusuf cannot do anything but smile back.

There is not much more to be said, after that. Nicolò has put the kid down, and now it bounces after him, dancing around him in circles and almost tripping him up at least three times. It makes him curse again, but he's smiling too much for it to be convincing. It makes Yusuf smile, too. They finish kneading the do

"He spent almost all his time with them when he came to visit," Lucia says, nodding towards the window. "The kids loved him. He would sit down and let them climb all over him. They used to chew on his hair."

Yusuf can imagine it clearly: fifteen-year-old Nicolò, still growing, letting five or six baby goats clamber all over him.

"There was this one doe, though, who hated him," she continues. "She would let anyone else near, but not him. She used to bite at his heels every time he came near. She chased him up a tree, once. I found him halfway up. He'd forgotten that goats climb trees, too."

Yusuf laughs out loud, and it's at that moment that the door swings open, and Nicolò's voice echoes through the house. "No, no, piccola," he's saying, "you have to stay outside."

When he comes into the kitchen, he's holding the kid, who has given up on chewing his sleeve and is now trying to reach his hair, refusing to be deterred even though he keeps pushing her away. He's so caught up in this task that he doesn't notice them both watching him straight away, and when he does pauses like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. "What?" he asks, looking between them.

"Nothing," Lucia says before Yusuf can say anything. Nicolò looks between them again, before shaking his head and carrying the goat over to the table.

"New friend?" Yusuf asks him.

"She won't leave me alone," Nicolò says.

"Nicolò," Lucia says, "do you remember the name of that goat that chased you up the tree? I couldn't seem to recall."

Nicolò blinks, then sighs. "Tell me you didn't tell Yusuf that story."

"Not all of it," Yusuf says innocently.

Nicolò groans. Yusuf laughs, and so does Lucia.

The shadow is still there, yes. But even though he complains, for a moment Nicolò's shoulders seem more relaxed, and the sun seems just a little brighter.