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sequinsmile-x · 1 year ago

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Aura

noun

the distinctive atmosphere or quality that seems to surround and be generated by a person, thing, or place.

a warning sensation experienced before a migraine

Aaron and Emily finally admit how they feel about each other, and all it takes is a migraine and a night spent sleeping on the couch.

-x-

Hi friends <3

This came about after a conversation with @ssa-sparks, and as usual it spiralled completely out of my control.

I personally can never write enough 'getting together' fics, so I hope you guys don't get bored reading them!!

Please let me know what you think! -x-

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily rolls her neck as she pours herself a coffee, suppressing a yawn before she takes a sip of the still slightly too hot drink, desperate to wake herself up a little.

“Long night?” Dave asks, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. She narrows her eyes at him as he stands next to her in the kitchenette, a smirk on his face that seemed way too happy for her liking so early in the morning. His eyes sparkle with mischief as he picks up the coffee pot, “I always forget how delightful you are first thing in the morning.”

“And I always forget how annoying you are,” she replies, a smile flickering over her face as he feigns hurt, his hand pressed into his chest. She has another sip of her coffee as she looks across the bullpen, her eyebrows furrowing when she sees that Aaron’s office light is still off, just like it had been when she’d first arrived that morning, “Have you heard from Aaron today?”

He was usually the first to arrive at work. The light in his office like a beacon calling them all in. She remembered when she first joined the team she’d always joke to the others she wondered if he lived in there. Always the first to arrive and the last to leave, setting an example that was impossible for everyone, himself included, to keep. There had been a handful of occasions when he arrived later than the rest of them, but he always texted one of them, these days usually Emily, first. Whether it was because Jack had a doctor’s appointment, or something at his school he needed to attend, he always let them know.

So the lack of contact, the fact he hadn’t arrived yet, lets seeds of concern plant in her belly, something she tries to shake off, sure she’d being overly worried.

“No,” Dave replies, drawing her attention back to him, a smirk on his face that makes her want to smack him, “I’m sure Aaron is just fine.”

She rolls her eyes, ignoring the burning in her cheeks at the implication in his tone, his emphasis on Aaron’s first name as he points out that she’d used it. Ever since her return from Paris she and Aaron had become close. Their shared, but different, experiences, the fact they were the only person who could come close to understanding what the other had been through, pulling them together. After he’d made her promise to come to him on her bad days, a deal she knew had initially been employee to superior, things had started to change.

He’d been kind to her, soft in a way she’d seen briefly in the past. He invited her over to spend time with him and Jack over weekends and on evenings when they were free, a smile on his face that he was never quite able to hide as he watched her interact with his son. Somehow, in a way she’d never seen coming, Aaron had become her best friend.

And it had made her feelings for him, the love she’d pretended didn’t exist for as long as she could remember, infinitely more complicated.

The last thing she wanted to do was to ruin what they had, to throw it away to try something she wasn’t even entirely sure he wanted. There were moments, flashes in amongst the time they spent together, when she was sure he felt the same way. When she’d see something sparkling in his eyes when they met hers. But she was unsure, his presence in her life as her best friend was something she treasured, one of the things she’d rebuilt her life around when she thought it was impossible, and the thought of losing it, him, stopped her from going for something more.

She was content to love him as a friend, to pretend to herself that it wasn’t more than that, that she wasn’t bursting at the seams as she forced herself not to kiss him whenever he smiled at her, because it was easier than not being able to love him at all.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” she says, clearing her throat, “We’re just friends.”

Dave hums and raises his eyebrow at her, talking over his shoulder as he walks away towards his office, “Siete entrambi idioti.”

“Zitto,” she calls back, narrowing her eyes as he smirks at her over his shoulder. She blows out a breath as she looks at Aaron’s office, her stomach churning again at seeing it empty. She shakes her head at herself, telling herself he’s fine, that she’s worrying for nothing, and she mutters to herself under her breath, “Get it together, Emily.”

It’s like a mantra in her head as she repeatedly tells herself that he is okay, that nothing is wrong. But as the morning slips away, slowly giving way to the afternoon, her texts to him all unanswered and her calls sent to voicemail, the concern that had planted itself the moment she walked in that morning blooms. The flowers of it taking up space in her chest, making it hard to breathe as she remembers the last time he didn’t show up for work. How she’d dismissed her concern then, unaware it was love that was driving it, the feelings she’d had for months by that point only finding a name when she saw him in his hospital bed.

As soon as it’s lunch time she stands up from her desk, her eyes flicking to Aaron’s still empty office as she slings her bag over her shoulder, “I’m going out.”

Derek leans back in his chair, his hands on the back of his head as he looks at her, “Where are you thinking of going for lunch, Princess? I could be convinced to go to-”

“I’m just going home,” she says, the lie weak to her own ears, “I’ll let you know if I’m coming back later.” She hurries out of the bullpen before anyone can say anything else, ignoring their calls for her attention. As the glass door vibrates behind her as it slams, Dave steps out of his office, looking down at Emily’s now empty desk.

“Where did she go?” He asks, looking at the team, varying degrees of confusion on their faces.

“She didn’t say,” JJ says, not looking up from her paperwork, “But I’ll you $20 she’s gone to Hotch’s place to check on him. She’s barely stopped looking at his office all morning.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

Spencer frowns, “Is this a new bet, or part of the one about them getting together?” He asks, “Because there’s already over $1000 in that pool and it’s getting harder to keep track.”

He jumps as Derek pats him on the shoulder, looking up as the other man smirks at him, “Good thing we have a genius tracking it all then, isn’t it?”

___

When she steps across the threshold into his apartment, the key he’d given her weeks ago clutched in her hand, it feels like she’s stepped back in time. The eerie quietness, the stillness in a home she now knew to be full of laughter and love, unnerving as she closes the door behind her. Nothing looks out of place as she does a quick visual sweep of the place, a smile flashing across her face as she sees the school project she’d been helping Jack with at the weekend still on the dining table. Aaron’s phone is on the kitchen counter, next to his keys and briefcase, and she sighs, her thumbnail briefly in between her teeth. She steps further into the apartment and shrugs off her jacket, laying it over the back of the couch.

“Aaron?” She calls out, walking deeper into the apartment, her arms crossed over her chest, “Aaron, it’s Emily.” She comes to a stop outside his bedroom, the door slightly open, and she knocks lightly, frowning when she hears a quiet, but pained response.

“Jack? You’re home from school already?”

She pushes the door open, her eyebrows furrowing as she sees him. He’s lying in bed, pushing himself up on one hand, his other pressed against his forehead as he blinks at her, his expression bleary. He blinks a few times, as if he’s trying to clear his vision, frowning as he looks at her.

“Em?”

“Yeah,” she says, stepping closer, her gaze drifting to the nightstand, landing on a glass of water and a box of migraine tablets, “It’s me. It’s only lunchtime.”

He groans as he lays back, his arm over his eyes, blocking out the light, “What are you doing here?”

She knows its wrong, but something about the roughness of his voice, how haggard it sounds, makes her belly flip, “You didn’t show up to work and you didn’t answer your phone,” she says, stepping closer again, “I was worried.”

“Sorry,” he says, clearing his throat, “I tried to come in but my head hurts too much. I can’t even see properly.”

She knew he suffered from migraines, that he had done ever since the explosion in New York that had almost cost him his hearing, but she’d never seen him have one. He was always so good at hiding his pain from those around him, from those who cared about him, and it makes her ache as she wonders just how many times he’d gone through this alone.

She makes a decision there and then that she’s not letting him do that this time.

“I’ll let Dave know I’m not coming back, and-”

“No, Em, it’s fine I don’t need a babysitter,” he says, grimacing when he protests a little too loudly, making his own head throb and his stomach turn, “You can go.”

She raises an eyebrow at him even though he’s not looking at her, and she finally sits down on the edge of the bed, her arms crossed over her chest in unnecessary defiance, “I’ll let Dave know I’m not coming back,” she says, repeating herself as if he’d never interrupted her, “Then I’ll call Jess and ask her to take Jack tonight,” she places her hand on his arm as he tries to interrupt again, swallowing thickly at the shift of his muscles beneath his skin as she squeezes, “And then I’ll just…hang out in your living room whilst you sleep this off, okay?”

He opens an eye to look at her, the low light in the room that had filtered in through the closed curtains enough to make him feel immediately worse, “You don’t have to look after me.”

“I know,” she says, screwing her hands together in her lap to stop herself from reaching out to run her fingers through his hair, “But I want to.”

He doesn’t argue any further with her, and she’s unsure if it’s because he doesn’t have the strength, or because he actually wants her to stay, but she takes it. She leaves his bedroom, careful to make sure she’s as quiet as possible as she makes the calls she needs to make. She choses to ignore the teasing tone in Dave’s voice when she confirms where she is, and what sounds like chatter in the background from the rest of the team, and she makes polite conversation with Jessica, finding herself endlessly grateful that the woman never seemed to question her increasing part in Jack and Aaron’s lives.

Once she’s done she does a few small chores for him, including putting away the dishes he’d washed but left out to dry, trying not to think too much about the fact she knows exactly where everything goes. She finds herself incapable of not checking on him again, she she walks to his bedroom, an icepack she’d found in his freezer in hand, making sure she’s quiet as she steps back into the room.

“Em?”

“It’s me,” she replies, careful to keep her voice low as she walks back across the room, once again sitting on the edge of his bed, “I let Dave know you’re sick, said you likely won’t be in tomorrow either. And Jess was more than happy to take Jack,” she says, smiling softly at him as he opens his eyes with what seems like a herculean effort, “I brought you an ice pack,” she says as she hands it to him, “Do you need anything else?”

“A new brain,” he quips, and she chuckles, passing him the icepack, the shiver that goes down her spine as their fingers touch something she puts down to the coldness of the ice, not the warmth of his skin.

“Sadly I’m all out of those,” she says, smiling at him, “Besides, I kind of like your brain the way it is,” she adds before she can stop herself, internally cursing as soon as she’s said it. She’s strangely grateful that his vision is blurred, because she knows it means he can’t see the blush creeping across her cheeks, “You get some rest,” she says, squeezing his arm before she stands up, “I’ll be out there if you need me, and I’ll check in every now and again.”

She’s almost at the door when he calls out for her, “Em?”

She looks back, her hand tight around the door handle, “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She smiles, pressing her lips together to stop it from growing any further, “Anytime.”

As she once again closes his bedroom door and walks back to his living room, she knows that she’d do anything for him.

___

Aaron groans as he wakes up, the pounding in his head now a dull thud, his vision fully clear as he opens his eyes to test their sensitivity. He rolls onto his back and blows out a breath, running his hands over his face as he sits up, keen not to lose any more time than he already had to the debilitating migraine he’d had the day before.

He’d felt it coming. The familiar warning signs of his insomnia creeping back in and the nausea that never seemed to settle greeting him just a few days ago. He’d ignored them, vainly hoped they’d go away, that the migraine wouldn’t be as bad this time. A lie he told himself every time this happened, half convinced after he’d recovered that the pain wasn’t as terrible as he’d remembered even though it had always ended up being worse.

There’s very little he remembered from the day before, the throbbing in his head and his blurred vision overriding everything else. He’d managed to get Jack off to school, once again finding himself grateful that they’d established a long time ago that Jessica would be the one to take him in, and then had attempted to get ready for work but had found himself unable to. It was as if his body had taken over, his instincts forcing him to simply crawl into bed and lay there, no matter how much he wanted to go to work.

He remembered Emily. Remembered her appearing out of seemingly nowhere. Her perfume the only scent that didn’t seem to make him feel worse as she sat next to him on the edge of his bed, refusing to go anywhere when he said he was fine. She’d looked after him all afternoon, making sure he stayed hydrated, that he took his meds. She swapped out his icepacks and largely left him alone but never strayed too far, and never left it too long before she checked in on him again, poking her head around the corner of his bedroom door, almost tripping over the unfamiliar layout of the furniture in his bedroom every time because she didn’t want to turn a light on and cause him pain.

Her undeniable beauty, the way she made him feel, were two of the only things that had broken through the hold his migraine had on him. He’d spent enough time with her, enough time learning about the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, how she would bite her lower lip when she was nervous, how her eyes carried more emotion than she meant them to, that he knew he’d never forget how beautiful she was. He could lose his sight entirely and never get and it back and he’d remember.

He’d always known she was beautiful, even when he used to be married to Haley, but it didn’t take much time to realise it was more than skin deep. It radiated out of her, shone through her when she looked after those she cared for or when she became protective. It took him too long to realise what it all meant, why she became more and more beautiful to him as time went on, why every thing he learnt about her, good and bad, made him more drawn to her, and it was only when he was standing over a grave he knew was empty he realised.

He was in love with her, and he had no idea what to do about it.

She wasn’t the same when she came back, and sometimes he wondered if she really had died that day in Boston. If the Emily he had fallen in love with no longer existed. As time went on, he realised it didn’t matter. He loved every version of her, every bit of her that he could get, and he knew he always would.

Dave was insistent that Emily felt the same way, constantly telling Aaron that he should go for it, that he was too old to watch them continue dane around each other, but Aaron was hesitant. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to push her into something, or make her feel as if she could no longer trust him as her best friend. So he put his feelings aside and put up with Dave’s comments, simply glaring at his friend if he ever said something too loudly with Emily close by.

If all she ever needed was a friend, he would be that for her.

He remembers her being there, remembers how her presence felt like more of a comfort than any medication could, but he doesn’t remember her leaving, sure he must have just slept through it. He stands up, testing his balance for a moment before he carries on and leaves the bedroom. He’s only made it a few paces into the main section of his apartment when he comes to a stop, his hand rubbing at his neck when he spots her.

Emily was fast asleep on his couch, curled under a blanket he usually kept over the back of it, her head on a cushion he knows is too thin to sleep on.

He steps closer and looks at her for a moment, taking in how relaxed she looked. Her mouth slightly hanging open, a small pool of drool on the cushion below, and her hand squished under her cheek. She looked impossibly more beautiful like this, and he feels a pang in his chest as he wishes more any anything he could see her like this every morning. That he could keep this version of her to himself, soft and warm and sleepy, the usual barriers she kept around herself, even around him at times, nowhere to be found.

He steps closer again and she wakes up, sitting up suddenly, sucking in a breath that sounds panicked and he immediately feels guilty.

“Em, it’s just me,” he says, smiling encouragingly as their eyes meet.

“Aaron,” she says, wiping her mouth, clearing her throat as she tries to wake herself up, “Are you okay? Do you need anything,” she stands up, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling nothing short of exposed in her pjyamas - an old t-shirt and a pair of leggings - in front of him, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I must have-”

“It’s fine,” he says, smiling at her, “I feel better today, I promise,” he says, watching as she narrows her eyes at him, clearly not entirely believing him, “I mean it.”

She nods and sits back down on the couch, desperately trying to suppress a yawn as she does so, “Good, I’m glad,” she says, smiling as he sits down next to her, “I was worried about you,” her smile turns tight as their eyes meet, “You weren’t at work and you weren’t answering your phone. It made me think of…”

She drifts off, knowing she’s already said more than she usually would, but she’s tired. She’d barely got any sleep between checking in on him every couple of hours and the lingering concern that had taken root in her belly. Festering until she felt nauseous, no amount of assuring herself that he would be ok, of sticking her head around the door to find him still asleep, let it settle. She still feels worried even now, the lines beneath his eyes deeper than usual, his skin paler.

He sighs, closing his eyes as he shakes his head at himself, immediately regretting it when his briefly makes the throbbing in his head worse. She didn’t have to say anything else. They’d talked about it at length one evening after Jack had gone to bed, Emily’s eyes fixed on the spot on the floor where Aaron’s blood had once stained it as she explained her version of that day. How she’d known something was wrong but couldn’t explain why, her instincts driving her to seek him out.

Aaron was sure that it was her action, her insistence on checking in on him and ultimately finding him in the hospital, that had saved Jack and Haley that day. That they’d managed to buy enough time to get them into hiding, to give Jack what turned out to be those precious last few months with his mother. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to make up for that, something that had made his failure to save her from Ian even sharper than it already was.

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking up at her, “I didn’t even really mean to get into bed let alone spend all day there-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” she says, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm without thinking about it, his skin warm against hers, “It’s not your fault, it wasn’t back then either. I just…I was worried.”

He nods, placing his hand over hers on his arm, marvelling at the softness of her skin, at how their fingers seemed to slot together perfectly, and he squeezes, “Well thank you for looking after me, you didn’t have to.”

She smiles at him, her eyes lingering on his face as she takes it all in. The fine lines she usually didn’t see because she was rarely this close to him, the smattering of freckles on his nose, the appearance of stubble over his jaw. He was beautiful, his presence enough to make her feel better, the residual concern she’d woken up feeling gone simply because he was next to her, his hand in hers, and all of a sudden all of the reasons she had for holding back from him no longer make any sense.

“Yes,” she says, swallowing thickly as she lets herself be as brave as he always said she was, “I did,” she presses her lips together into a firm line and she reaches out, pushing hair from his forehead just like she had stopped herself from doing the day before, “It’s what you do for the person you love.”

Everything slows down, the world shrinking down to just the two of them. The breath she lets out catches on every rib as it escapes, almost painful. A dividing line that she’d forever see her life as being before and after. The few seconds it takes him to smile are among some of the longest of her life, drawn out as she worries her worst fears had been realised - that she’d jumped and he hadn’t caught her.

He shifts closer, the hand that wasn’t tangled with hers cupping her cheek, “Em…”

“I mean it,” she says, her tongue peeking out to wet her lower lip, something he watches intently, “I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

He lets it wash over him, sinks into the feeling of awe that he knows he’d willingly drown in. It meant so much more than he ever thought it could, to know his feelings were reciprocated, that he wasn’t alone in it.

“I love you too,” he replies, watching as she sags with relief, “Probably longer than I should.”

She smiles, wide and bright, unshed tears shining in her eyes, “Really?”

He chuckles, amazed by the fact she didn’t realise the power she had, that she didn’t know how enthralled he was by her.

“Really,” he confirms, pressing his thumb into her lower lip, testing the plushness of it, “Even if you did drool on my couch.”

She scoffs, outrage taking over as he chuckles at her, “You-”

He leans forward to press his lips against hers, cutting off her response. She grasps the back of his head, holding him in place, and he wraps his arms around her, his palm warm on her back, everything else forgotten except this moment. Something they’d both survived so much for.

At their wedding, only 18 months later, Dave presents them with an incredibly expensive bottle of champagne that he bought using his winnings from the team’s bet. A wry smile on his face as he claims he was the one to thank for the fact there was a wedding at all, that he’d pushed them towards each other.

For once, Emily can’t bring herself to correct him, to say they’d done it themselves, that they’d found their way to each other, her happiness far overriding anything else.

-x-

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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 26 days ago

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My favorite part of Year in Review: the self-chosen 'top written scenes'! I hope these were favorites for you guys too.

Top 5 Writings of 2024

5. Give Floating a Try

“Give me your hands.” Thorin stated, removing his finger to offer up both of his hands, palm up. Bilbo had little time to mourn the loss of Thorin’s finger as he placed his hands on top of Thorin’s. His throat went dry as the differences between their hands became overly apparent. Thorin’s were rougher to the touch and nearly swallowed his own in size, but his hold was gentle. Secure. Warm. Bilbo gave the hands as best a squeeze as he could, and Thorin squeezed them in return. He was so mesmerized by the difference between their hands, he hadn’t even realized Thorin had been leading him into the water until he felt it brush against his waist. He cried out, throwing himself onto Thorin and wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Thorin was so surprised, he tipped backwards, going under for a quick second and nearly bringing Bilbo down with him. He quickly came back up, sputtering and trying to clear the water from his face around Bilbo hugging him tightly and all but sobbing on him. “Bilbo! You can still touch!” Thorin growled, trying to create some distance. Bilbo held on like a leech. His face pressed tightly against Thorin’s shoulder and his arms and legs shaking from how hard he clutched him. Thorin sighed as he wrapped his arms around Bilbo, slowly rubbing his back, and murmuring comforting words in his ear.

4. Beneath the Oak Tree

They were married in the spring when the best wedding flowers were in bloom, right beneath that old oak tree that was theirs. Their friends and family both in the Shire and in Ered Luin gathered as they watched them recite their vows and seal their love with a kiss. As was hobbit tradition, they picked out their seed to plant in the garden of their home together. For many years, it was customary to see the King and Consort of Ered Luin taking a stroll to the edge of the settlement where a handsome oak was in the process of growing. Made from love and magic acorns.

3. Bruise and Batter My Heart

“You need not do this if you don’t want to.” He urged quietly, his voice flat and eyes downturned. Thorin slowly grabbed Bilbo’s chin, tilting it back up to him. “The only reason I would not court you this way is because Bilbo Baggins doesn’t have anything to prove to me or my people.”

2. A Story of Home

Thorin, thankful for the distraction, made his way to the coffee pot. He took that first necessary sip of hot, bitter pure caffeine before looking over at Dis drawing smiley faces on the boys’ pancakes with whip cream and fruit. Fili wanted blueberries and Kili wanted strawberries. It was a scene that Thorin had watched hundreds of times and never really got tired of it. Yet today there was a twinge of melancholy as he observed his family and thought about what was missing. “Alright, so tell me. How’s Bilbo doing?” Thorin took another sip of his coffee to hold off answering Dis for even just a small moment. “Oh come on!” Dis complained as she handed him a plate of pancakes. “I heard you guys talking practically all night long.” “Where’s my smiley face?” He teased instead of giving in. Dis took the whip cream can and sprayed a curved line directly on his face. He spluttered before grabbing a towel to wipe it away. “Cute.” He growled. She chuckled, handing him the can. He pretended like he was going to spray it right on top of her head, getting her to flinch away with a warning ‘Thorin’ before he squirted a generous amount on his pancakes, a big smirk on his face. She went back to fussing over the boys as well as making her own plate so Thorin had honestly forgotten she had asked him a question until she was poking him about it. Literally, with her syrup covered fork. “What is your problem?” He complained. “I was asking you about Bilbo.” She sighed, exasperated as if he were the one being particularly childish this morning.

The Twelve Transformations of Bilbo Baggins

It was so hard though. Especially with Thorin’s piercing blue eyes boring into him, demanding from Bilbo. Demanding his attention. Demanding his understanding. Demanding a promise to never act so rashly again. And damn him that it was on the tip of Bilbo’s tongue to grant it all to him. To give himself over to the worry and misplaced protection and cuddle himself up in Thorin’s arms to never emerge. Yet, Bilbo’s pride was a curious thing. Nowhere on par with what he has seen from this Son of Durin, but enough for him to push back. To be argumentative for the sake of argumentative. And Bilbo has never hated a trait about himself more. “Yet, in a few short days, you send me to the den of a dragon.” He hissed, very careful to keep their words between them. “You don’t get to demand my life and offer my sacrifice in the same breath.” Thorin went decidedly pale, and Bilbo had to wonder if he was not the only one to forget how this quest ended. To be distracted by all the dangers they had faced and know that the true Chiefest of Calamities remained before them. Perhaps it was for the best that Balin interrupted them when he did. He couldn’t be sure that either of them would have anything productive to add to the conversation after that.

Guys, I was so insanely proud of my #1 scene. It was no contest on choosing it for first. But here are some honorable mentions that got bumped out of the other top spots.

Hugs & Kisses Event- Holding Hands

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Thorin defended. “Right.” Dwalin snorted. “Look, I’ve saved your life plenty of times and I’ve never been hugged like that afterwards.” “Aw, do you need a hug, Dwalin?” Thorin teased.

Hugs & Kisses Event- Sweet Words Bifur x Oin

I dreamt I was lost to you, my love. Oin’s hands were shaking as he made the final signs. He looked into Bifur’s eyes as he shook his head before signing once more. Not lost, just misplaced. Bifur smiled before sinking back into sleep. Oin just stood there, tears streaking down his face, relief bursting free. He knew the road ahead would be bumpy for them, but at least it was there for them to traverse together.

Trick or Treat Event- Homesick/Stormy Night

Bilbo opened his mouth, swallowed, and tried again. But he couldn’t think of anything to say. His mind as turbulent as the skies outside. Thorin seemed to sense this, and didn’t press any further than that. He merely left a kiss on Bilbo's forehead before getting up and walking back upstairs. An innocent gesture, but one that felt like a brand upon his skin. It wasn’t obligatory and Bilbo didn’t miss the Shire greatly. The start of something wonderful sat before Bilbo, and he was terrified he wasn’t brave enough to seize it.

#sunny answers stuff #year in review #top 5 writings #were these anyone's favorites?#did anyone have different ones?#i'm always happy to hear!

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primofate · 4 years ago

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im feeling kinda akward since its my first time requesting,i really really really like your writings and im wondering if you could do some angst for albedo, anything you feel like tbh, but if may i be a little selfish i was thinking on something like he hurt you, so you break up with him or maybe he break up with you and regret later, im in love with the genius and your writings so why not lol, hope you are doing well, xoxoxooxox

Thanks for the request anon. <3 Sorry it took so long, but I’m feeling angst today so here goes. Let me know what you think <3

QUEUED POST

Scenario: Breaking up

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst?

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 2) (Part 3 - Final)

Albedo

Alone.

These days you found yourself alone in your shared home. It had been nearly a year since the two of you decided to live together. Maybe that was a bad idea.

You were smitten. He was such an intelligent man, and truth be told you loved how his mind worked. He was silent and mostly kept to himself at first, but with you, there were subtle touches, fleeting kisses. Oh and his eyes, the way his eyes brightened or the way his lips turned up at the sight of you. The way he held you close at nights, up until the morning.

Gone were those days.

He was hardly home. The intelligent man you had fallen in love with, was also a workaholic. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming. There were so many signs.

Maybe he changed. Maybe you changed. But the little things weren’t enough anymore. He came home just to sleep and wake up, and he was off again.

“Bedo, have you got some time off on the weekend? We haven’t been up to Starsnatch Cliff in a while,” you had prodded him a few days ago, wondering if the problem would be solved if you made the first move.

“Sorry, Y/N, we’re just about to discover more about the properties of electro crystals... It’ll be useful if we want to sustain higher energy concentrations on...” and just like that he had gone off a tangent explaining the whole thing. You smiled a little, it was still endearing how excited he got discussing those things.

But you couldn’t help but be lonely at how he seemed to love his research more than you.

‘Maybe I just need to be more proactive. That’s it! I’ll go and visit him at the lab today!’ Surprising him was one of the things that you had always wanted to do. But not a lot of things got past Albedo. He was observant like that. You made a quick run to the bakery, getting him some croissants and welcomed yourself into the Favonius Headquarters.

You looked up at the sign on his laboratory door. That sign was always there though, Klee had told you about it, and Sucrose had also talked about it once or twice before, telling you that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go in if the sign was up. But when was it ever down? So, you shrugged, and pushed the door open with a wide smile.

“What are you doing here?!” There’s a wild look in Albedo’s eyes the moment you step in. He didn’t appreciate being disturbed. You tilted your head a little at his reaction, you weren’t expecting that.

“Oh, since you’ve been so busy these days I just thought I’d drop by and give you something to--”

“Y/N, did you not see the sign on the door? No disturbances, even from you,”

“I’ll just be quick, I’m just dropping this off,” you lift the paper bag from the bakery and lay it down on the nearest table. Albedo closes his eyes with a sigh.

“...We’re working on something dangerous right now, I don’t have time to eat. Please take it back,”

Surprisingly, you obey quite quickly, and take the paper bag back into your hands. Annoyance start to pulse in your veins. “Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

Sucrose had been standing there the whole time, and you can see the slight wince on her face at your cold statement... But Albedo had returned it ten fold, snapping an answer back. “Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

You didn’t expect how much it would sting. Your shoulders slump downwards at the realization that this... had gone too far. You couldn’t take it anymore. Sucrose opens her mouth, but doesn’t know what to say looking back and forth between you and Albedo.

The Kreideprinz had continued with his task as if nothing had happened at all, but he knew what he said. He didn’t want any interferences nor accidents happening in the lab and that was the only thing he cared about at the moment.

Your foot moves to step back, but your eyes are glued to Albedo. You can only see his back. His hair tied up neatly, the shoulders that you loved to wrap your arms around and his hands that were always gentle. You took a good look, drinking the whole scene in like you hadn’t had a drop of water in days.

This was the last time you would lay eyes on him and it broke you into so many pieces. You turned away without another word, Sucrose staring at the door, before she decided that she needed to follow you. “I-I’ll be back, Master Albedo,” she rarely ever abandoned an experiment, but she knew that you needed a friend right now.

Ironic, because it should have been Albedo running after you, but instead the green-haired girl caught up to you just as you reached the fountain in the middle of Mondstadt. “Y/N!” she jogs, and stops when you do as you hear your name.

Tears prickled your cheeks, but they were more of frustration than sadness. You stand there for a moment, drying your tears and turning around towards Sucrose, gaze on the pavement. “Y/N...” Sucrose approaches carefully, hand resting on your shoulder.

“...I don’t know anything other than Albedo, Sucrose,” you start, a curtain of memories flashing through your mind. “...Without him, there isn’t much reason for me to stay in Mondstadt,” Sucrose shakes her head rather hastily. “H-He’s just... a little occupied right now, Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t mean what he said,” You close your eyes, the scene repeating in your head.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

A hard lump forms on your throat at how hard you try not to sob. How hard you try to keep yourself together and Sucrose sees it from the way your lips tremble. “Sucrose, please watch over him,” and that is also the last that Sucrose sees of you.

That night, Albedo arrives home exhausted, just as he always does. But now that he was home, he could at least expect a warm meal and a warm hug. A soft smile tugs on his lips at the thought.

When he turned the lights on, he was met with a strange stillness instead. His hand stays on the switch as his eyes scan the living room. It was...quiet. There were no plates on the table, and there were no sounds from the kitchen.

Deep in the pits of his stomach there’s an anxiety that starts bubbling up. He brushes it off, opting instead to check the kitchen. “Y/N?”

Empty.

His footsteps hasten as he opens the bedroom door, expecting you to be curled up there, asleep.

Empty.

Albedo takes in a shaky breath. You were probably just out in town, doing some late night shopping. Yeah, that’s it, perhaps you just didn’t have enough ingredients for dinner today and--his eyes land on the bedside table.

The photo frame is gone. The photo of the two of you standing side by side together with comfortable smiles on your faces, his hand on your waist, and the house on the background.

He throws open the closet doors. Your clothes are gone. Your shoes are gone. Even your scent seemed to have disappeared. The anxiety that was once a small bubble in his stomach had started to claw it’s way out, wrenching his heart in places that he didn’t know could hurt. The tears pooling in his eyes were so foreign that he didn’t even know what was happening until he hears himself gasp back a sob.

You’re gone.

Suddenly it was so hard to breathe, but he pulls himself up and out the door. There’s no way. Where would you go? Perhaps you were just around Mondstadt, trying to get a breath of fresh air to calm your nerves. He searches everywhere. The church, the tavern, the Good Hunter and even atop the rooftop of the Favonius Headquarters. There was a decent view of the city there, and his eyes roam the streets, just to get a glimpse of you.

“...Please...” There’s another lump in his throat, his eyes dart around looking for any small sign of you.

“Albedo? Tired?” you ask as he returns home one day. He merely lets out a small “Mm,” and pulls a chair out from the dining table to sit on. You walk into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of tea, and he snatches your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Thank you, love,”

“...Please!” his grip on the stone walls of the rooftop tighten. His vision blurs.

“Al! Don’t do that!” you try to swat his hand away from the pot, a short laugh coming off of your lips at how mischievous he could be sometimes, trying to dip his finger into the sauce. He has a grin on his face as he successfully tastes the sauce off his finger, making a sound of approval as he draws you in for a light kiss on your forehead, “It’s good, as always,”

His legs buckle, and he finds himself on his knees, hands fisted upon the cold stone wall. “At least tell me where you've gone! I can’t--” he doesn’t know when the last time he cried was, but whenever it was, he doesn’t remember it to be this bad. The pain was unlike any injury he had, it grasped so tightly at his heart.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

He furiously shakes his head because he knows that it was his fault. “I didn’t mean it, please give them back,” as if there was someone else who took you away. As if there was a God listening to him right now.

He realizes that the worst of it was not that you had left, but that you had left no traces of you behind. No photo. Not a piece of clothing. Not a trace of your existence.

Nothing for him to hold on to.

That night, he dragged himself back home. Face flushed and hot from the tears he had shed and the ones he was attempting to hold back.

That night, he painfully got into bed.

Alone.

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judeswhore · 3 years ago

Text

a loss for the ladies - mason mount

in which mason shaves his beard and his fans aren’t the only one’s who are disappointed

a moment of silence pls,,,, for @ofxinnocence bc after she mentioned it and how sad the dash is i just had to write abt it

You were still half asleep when Mason got up, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he mumbled a quiet “morning, baby” into your skin. The rough hairs on his chin and upper lip grazed your skin in the best way and sent shivers up your spine. Your own lips tilted into a soft smile and you peaked your eyes open to watch him pad across the bedroom floor, gaze locked on the way the muscles in his back shifted when he stretched. He rifled through his sock drawer, one hand slipping slightly beneath the band of his boxers, fingers running along the skin underneath as he bit back a yawn.

“Wanna shower?” He asked as he pulled a pair of grey joggers from the top drawer of the dresser, head turning so he could throw you a look over his shoulder. His hair was still messy, eyes a little droopy from sleep and he looked so good, his beard looking even fuller than yesterday and you wanted to feel the scratch of it against your lips again.

You buried your face further into the pillow and shook your head, trying hard not to let your mind wander to unholy places because you had work in just over an hour and half and that wasn’t nearly enough time to do all the things you wanted to do to Mason. He turned to face you and you had to close your eyes to avoid staring at his so obvious bulge, hand reaching for the duvet so you could pull it up and over your head.

“Showered last night.” Your words were muffled and it was a few seconds before you felt Mason’s hand against your thigh over the white sheets.

“Well get ready then and I’ll take us for coffee before I drop you off at work.” He laughed softly when you pushed your hand from beneath the sheets, thumb pointing up. He pinched the tip of it before his footsteps headed towards the bedroom door. “I’ll use the other bathroom if you’re not showering.”

You were dressed and in the middle of brushing your teeth when Mason came into his en suite, joggers slung low on his hips, hair still damp and sticking to his forehead. You watched him through the mirror, toothbrush halting in your mouth as he pressed his hand against your hip, chest against your back while he reached for his own toothbrush. He flashed you a smile.

“Will you stay over again tonight? We can make dinner together or something.” You spat your paste into the sink before spinning to face him, brows drawing together and Mason startled, a dollop of blue toothpaste dropping on to the counter.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“What?”

“Mason, you shaved!” You whacked your hand lightly against his shoulder, frown turning into a glare and then a pout as your eyes dragged over your boyfriend’s freshly shaven face. He’d done away with his full beard and now all that was left was a patch on his chin and a little over his top lip.

“Ow, what’s that for? I had to.” He stepped away from you, crease appearing between his own eyebrows as you continued pouting at him. Mason was insanely hot, that wasn’t something to debate, but he just looked extra hot with the beard, he didn’t look as soft as he usually did and you wouldn’t lie it did something to your hormones.

“You didn’t have to do anything. Mase, it was my favourite look.” You whined, slumping back against the bathroom sink. Mason had the toothbrush half hanging from his mouth and he cocked his head to the side, leaning his free hand against the sink while he watched your dramatics.

“You complained that it tickled you.”

“I complained one time and that was when I was still getting used to it. I told you yesterday just how much I loved it.” You rinsed your toothbrush off and dropped it back into the pot, staring at Mason’s face in the mirror.

“It’ll grow back.”

“That’s not the point. This,” You pressed your finger to the hairs on his chin, grimacing dramatically and Mason couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “I don’t like.”

“Why?” He nudged you out of the way so he could finish brushing his teeth, his eyes staying locked on your reflection. You were one hundred percent being over the top, the new shave wasn’t that bad, it just wasn’t on par with his full facial hair and paired with the fluffy hair he was growing out again he looked younger.

“Just don’t. I want the beard back. Also, Mount, might I remind you that it’s Movember? You’re not meant to shave at all this month.” You picked up your discarded shirt off the floor and dropped it into the wash basket.

“Then I’ll start now. You’re being overly dramatic about some facial hair, sweetheart.” Mason spat into the sink and then rinsed his mouth before straightening up and actually turning to face you again.

“Am not. You looked hot, this morning it’s all I could think about. It’s always all I think about, every single second of every single day I think about how good it feels when you kiss me and how much I love the feel of it against my thighs.” Now you were just trying to make a point and Mason raised his eyebrows, hands settling on your hips so he could pull you in.

“So what? I’m not hot now?” He bent his head to brush his lips over your ear, his fingers reaching for yours so he could wrap your arms around his neck. “I think we both know it’s not the beard that makes you feel good when I’m between your thighs, Y/N.”

Mason met your eyes again, lips tilting into a little smirk and you knew he was right. And of course he still looked hot you’d just been rooting for the beard for so long that you hated seeing him without it. You slid your hands over his now smooth jaw, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones.

“I want you to grow it back.”

“What if I keep it like this?” Your lips turned pouty again and you really did hate the idea of him not growing the beard back. Thinking back on the period he’d had the full facial hair all you could think about was the way your tummy always got fluttery when you saw it and how every day he just seemed to grow more attractive.

“I’ll break up with you.” Amusement flashed across Mason’s face and he gave a little laugh.

“Oh really?”

“Yep.” You patted his cheek and ducked when he tried to kiss you, giggling at the groan he let out. “Sorry, no kisses until you grow it back out.” It was Mason’s turn to pout now and he drew his eyebrows together.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” You gave a shrug and wriggled free of his grip.

“New relationship rules, Mason only gets kisses when he has an actual beard and not that God awful chin strap.” He narrowed his eyes at you, following you like a lost puppy when you exited the bathroom.

“Y/N,” His voice was a whine, hands grabbing at you as you giggled and batted him away. “Unfair.”

“I think it’s unfair that you got rid of my favourite part of you.”

“My beard was not your favourite part of me.”

“Definitely was. You looked all rugged and intimidating.”

“Intimidating?”

“Uh huh, major turn on.” You grabbed his phone off the pillow and tossed it to him, grinning at the look of bewilderment on his face because he couldn’t believe you’d gotten so attached to the beard his friends all said was awful. “Now I think I’m gonna have to impose a sex ban too.”

“You’re being stupid.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t shaved the morning after I told you how much I fancied you.” Mason didn’t answer just wrapped his arms around you from behind, face settling into the crook of your neck.

“It’ll grow back fast.” He muttered, teeth nipping playfully at your shoulder.

“Then you have to promise me you won’t shave it again.”

“You want me to keep it forever?” You nodded your head, taking hold of his hands so you could once again wriggle free of his grip. You only had around half an hour before you needed to be at work and your arguing over his beard could continue in the car.

“I’d really like that.” As predicted neither of you could steer clear of the beard topic, Mason was baffled about how attached you’d grown to it and you didn’t understand how he didn’t realise how utterly hot he looked with it.

“So, be honest, is it ugly?” You gazed at him across the car, watching how he scratched the underside of his jaw. You gave a little shrug.

“It’s not ugly, Mason, you’re like the fittest person I’ve met, nothing you do is ugly. The beard just constantly makes me wanna tear your clothes off.” He gave a little laugh at this, head shaking slightly and you puffed out a little breath before leaning over and placing a kiss against his cheek. “You still look hot but I’m heartbroken over your decision.”

You knew one hundred percent Mason’s fans would feel exactly the same as you, you’d seen countless tiktoks of them talking about preferring his full beard and so when he was focusing on the road you snapped a photo of him. Mason raised his eyebrows at you, hands settling against your thigh as he tried to peer at your phone when he stopped at a light.

“You’re telling everyone aren’t you?”

“I’m sharing my pain.”

You posted the photo to your Instagram story, captioning it “freshly shaven, it was a loss for the ladies today” and adding a poll to officially decide which look people preferred. You slid your fingers over Mason’s and squeezed, turning to grin at him.

“If beard wins over chin strap you’re never allowed to have this look again.”

“What if chin strap wins?”

“Baby, I don’t think you’re seeing the full potential of your beard. Want me to show you how sexy it was? I have an entire album.”

#england nt #chelsea fc #football #football imagine #money mase #mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount fic #mason mount blurbs #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

Text

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money.

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut

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bratkook · 5 years ago

Text

corrupt. jjk (m)

You’d be crying out in pain begging me to play my games. I could corrupt you, it would be ugly.

pairing: vampire!jk x human!reader genre: smut, pwp warnings: blood play, unprotected sex, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, spanking, oral (f. receiving), partially clothed sex word count: 5k author’s note: literally everything i write is based on a song so listen to Corrupt by Depeche Mode. This also came to mind because my boss and i are obsessed with the idea of going to a sex club in berlin so i hope you enjoy lol. leave feedback or shoot me a message tysm ily bye. this also isnt edited yet im sorry

Standing in the middle of a dimly lit club in the heart of Berlin, the sound of a german band filling up the space all around you, is not how you thought your night would go.

Utterly alone, shimmying through the crowd of people all scantily clad in forms of leather or lace, some wearing nothing at all. No one seemed to mind you, no one gave you a second glance. The leather body harness you had on stuck to your body like second skin, the straps of it stretched across your breasts and covered your nipples. The only thing on your bottom half was a garter belt, a tiny pair of black underwear and fishnet stockings, finished off with some black heels.

You had begged your friend to come with you, being in the middle of your trip across Europe you wanted to visit the infamous sex club while in Berlin but she had been so against it. Not only was this club notorious for having orgies in the middle of the venue, which she thought was unspeakable, it was also a common hot spot for vampires as well, another taboo for her.

When she told you no you knew it was final so you didn’t mention it again. Instead you got dressed up in the bathroom of your airbnb, draped on a peacoat and headed out without a word. Luckily the club had coat check or else you’d feel entirely over dressed.

This club, unlike other vampire friendly ones you’ve visited, let everyone mingle together. You were accustomed to having dedicated rooms for humans, another for vampires, and a common ground for those who didn’t mind being together. But here it was a giant melting pot of both.

In the short ten minutes you’ve been here you had lost count of how many scarlet eyes you’d seen staring down at you, how many touches of cold skin you’d felt as you slipped by people, you felt very outnumbered and a little vulnerable but it sent a spark of excitement down your spine.

When you reach the bar, your arms press against the slightly tacky surface, a blonde with gleaming golden eyes greets you with a smile, “What’ll you have sweet heart?”

You strain your ears to hear her but try your best to tell her you’d just like a shot of tequila, she has no problem hearing your request, spinning around to grab the tequila from behind her.

Just as you start to ease up to being where you are, the feeling of someone slipping in beside you has you tensing up again. You keep your gaze on the bartender, watching her pour out your shot before sliding it over.

When you reach into the hem of your tights to pull out some cash she waves you off, “Its your first time here, consider it a welcoming gift.” She winks at you and moves on to the next thirsty guest before you can thank her.

You can sense the eyes boring into you from your right, your fingers gripping the edge of the shot glass as you lift it up to your lips. The curious observer just watches with a smirk as you throw back the shot, shutting your eyes as the warm liquid runs down your throat.

When you set the glass down and lick your lips over they finally speak, “First timer huh?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up at his voice, the low gravel of it swimming through your ears and getting your full attention. Its melodic, something about it has you turning to him like he had just said something ground breaking, and when you see who the voice belongs to you let out a small shudder.

The dark red of his eyes seems to glow in between the random flashes of light, his eyebrow arched up in curiosity as you drink him in. The hair on his head, parted to the side and showing the sharp eyebrows that frame his eyes, is an inky shade, the tips of the strands landing on his forehead.

He lets you take your time, watching you make your way down his face, reaching his soft lips, parted in a half smile that showcased the sharp fangs where your incisors are. The action should be threatening but all you can think of is having them sink into your skin.

The way he’s dressed is more modest than others, a sheer black mesh shirt hugging his chest, showing off the indents of muscles from how tight the material was. A harness similar to your own sits snuggly against his waist, the leather material matching that of his pants.

You snap out of it when you realize you’ve been staring at his crotch for more than seemed appropriate. Humor is written all over his face when you meet his gaze once more, remembering that the beautiful stranger had in fact asked you a question.

“Yeah, that obvious?”

He just chuckles, leaning against the bar top as well, “You just look a little intimidated is all. What is it, the vampires or the fucking in public?”

You push the shot glass further away from you, “Neither, I’ve had my fair share of vampires and if fucking in public scared me I wouldn’t be here.” Your words have piqued his interest, “Just first time jitters.”

He nods in understanding, “Fair, lets do some ice breakers then, I’ll start.” He clears his throat and inches closer to you, his shoulder nudging against yours, “My name is Jungkook, I’m technically 24, I enjoy making short films and I really want to fuck you.”

The small gasp you let out is clearly picked up by his ears, the smirk returning on his face at your reaction, “Oh wow,” you let out a giggle and he’s enamored by it, “well, my names Y/N, I’m 25, I enjoy baking and I really want to fuck you too.”

Jungkook hums, his tongue running along his teeth, “That can be arranged you know.”

You take a glance behind him, taking in the entirety of the club in the flashes of light. Almost every surface had a couple, at least, in the act of fucking each other in one form or another. In the middle of it all were the people who just came for the atmosphere, dancing along to the music playing as if ten feet away someone wasn’t getting fucked in the ass.

“Where?” You ask shyly, this was after all your first time at a club like this. The rules of dibs regarding location was foreign to you, not knowing what was off limits or not but Jungkook seemed to be very familiar with the club.

“Lets ease you into it yeah?” He murmurs out, his cold hand gently grasping yours and tugging you behind him as he slides through people without a care. The crowd seemed to split for him, humans and vampires alike staring him down but he paid them no mind as he crossed the floor.

The further you walked the more the crowd dispersed until you reached a hallway, the maroon walls were lined up with fetish photos, portraits of girls wrapped up in shibari, men wearing gimp masks along with shadow boxes holding various sex toys. In between each one were open doors, the rooms having a bed in the middle of them with lovers on top, the sounds of pleasure spilling out of the rooms and into the hallway.

Jungkook continued to lead you down the hallway, reaching a room he knows will be unoccupied. It was his room, no one ever used it but him, it was almost like an unspoken rule that it belonged to him so when you rounded the corner and stepped into it, the fact that i was completely untouched didn’t surprise him.

The bed was right in the middle, dimly illuminated by two sconces on the wall behind it. The black silk sheets look inviting, the large gold bed frame drawing you forward until your palms rested on the mattress, your fingers rubbing the soft material.

“I didn’t know places like this had beds.”

Jungkook steps behind you, his hands grasping your hips gently and pulling you back into him, “Mm, theres also a pool in the basement but I can show you that later.” He dips his head down, nuzzling his nose into the juncture of your neck and inhaling when the scent of you invades his senses.

He could hear the pounding of your heart, the blood pulsing through your veins in excitement. Jungkook knew you weren’t scared, you had waves of eagerness rolling off of you. The rythm of your heart wasn’t one of fear and as much as he used to love playing with his meals, knowing he didn’t have to sweet talk you into calming down made this more enjoyable.

“Yeah, later–laters good.” Your eyes flutter shut when his lips touch your skin, gently trailing up your neck and reaching your jaw. One of the hands that was on your hips came up to cup your cheeks, yanking your head around to crash his lips against yours.

The lingering remains of the tequila you had thrown back makes its way into his mouth when his tongue meets yours as he licks his way inside. Slowly you fully turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck and forcing him closer to you as your tongues tangled together messily.

Jungkook makes quick work at unclasping the harness you had on, his fingers coming together on your back and undoing the metal hooks until the fabric sagged off of your body. His lips never leave yours as you drop your arms, letting the leather material hit the floor.

When his hands come up to grasp your tits you pause kissing him, the icyness of his palm making your nipples pebble and he just smirks, almost as if he knows that you’re thinking of how his cold hands would feel inside your cunt.

“Such a pretty little human.” He mumbles out when he pulls back and stares at your exposed chest, his fingers twisting your nipple.

“Please,” you groan out, leaning forward to reattach your lips but he inches back to tease you, a playful smile on his face. “you said you wanted to fuck me.”

He relases your nipple, his hands now coming to undo his own harness, the garment joining yours on the floor but with it comes the mesh shirt. Inch by inch his smooth skin comes into view, the muscles on his stomach rippling as he peels it off and tosses it without a care.

“I do want to fuck you, so badly.” His head tilts slightly at you, watching you standing by the bed with your arms by your side and a pout on your face. “I like taking my time though baby, can you be patient for me.”

He hears the small intake of breath you make, nodding your head immediately. Patient? Yeah you could be patient for him, you could be anything for him. Its like his voice had you in a trance, any request he had could be fulfilled without a problem.

Jungkook reaches for you once more, his lips melting against yours while his hands guide your hips backwards, helping you onto the bed and pushing you back with ease. He slowly pushes you back until you’re fullt resting on the mattress, your hair splayed out around you with him hovering above you, his knees on either side of your thighs.

Your lips smack together for a moment, Jungkook gently nipping your bottom lip enough to draw a small bead of blood. When his tongue laps it up he moans into your mouth, the coppery taste mixed in with a hint of sweetness has his cock twitching. A small taste of whats to come, it takes him all the restraint he has to stop himself from devouring you here and now.

“Tastes,” kiss “so,” kiss “sweet.” He groans out in between kisses, pressing against you harder before trailing his lips down your body. You lay there with your chest heaving, your mind spinning when you feel the wetness of his lips kissing down your chest.

He envelopes your nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking around it with a moan, his other hand coming up to knead the flesh of your neglected breast and you gasp at the feeling, your back arching into his touch.

Your brain forcing your limbs to come into action now, your hand slipping into his hair and pushing him closer to you. The sensation of your fingers yanking his strands urges him on, sucking on your nipple while looking up at you, your eyes blown out in the darkness of the room, the bright red of his making him look predatory.

He pulls back with a wet smack, looking down at your saliva coated flesh and humming to himself while his hand continues to twist your other nipple. “So sensitive.” He comments when you whine at a particular hard tug he gives you, your head falling back with a sigh.

“Jungkook please.”

He relents, releasing your nipple and continuing his quest down your body, you’re expecting him to tug down your tights, maybe undo the garter belt before taking it all off but instead his fingers hook into the holes in the tighs around your crotch and yank hard. The sound of the fabric ripping has you lifting your head back up, catching him in the act of tearing your tights apart until your black panties were fully exposed to him.

Jungkook had slid off the bed, kneeling in front of you, his arms hooking under your thighs to drag you forward a bit, a smile spreading across his face when you let out a small shriek of surprise. The heels of your shoes rest on his back, your thighs sitting snuggly on his shoulders.

You can feel his breath against your skin, his lips hovering over the flesh of your inner thighs, his fingers digging into you as he licks his lips over. The anticipation is killing you, forcing yourself to drop your head back down because watching him stare at you like that was filling your stomach with nerves.

The soft flick of his tongue on your inner thigh has you tensing up, your hands reaching down to grasp his own, your warm fingers curling around his while they wrapped around your legs. Jungkook trails soft kisses on your skin, taking his time sucking and biting around your panties, his tongue gently flicking over your clit, a teasing motion that you barely feel through the material of your underwear.

He chuckles when your hands clutch his with annoyance, you had told him you could be patient but you were really doubting yourself now. Maybe fucking him out in the open of the club would’ve given you satisfaction a lot quicker.

Just as you’re about to voice your frustration, Jungkook pulls a hand away from your thigh, hooking his finger on the edge of your panties and yanking them to the side. Your glistening core shines back on him, his mouth salivating at getting a taste of you, wondering if your cunt was as sweet as your blood.

“Fuck.” You gasp when he licks a broad stripe up your slit, his tongue gathering your wetness in a practice move, a satisfied moan leaving his mouth at the taste. Everything he had said about taking his time was out the window now, diving into you shamelessly.

He growls when your hand comes back to tangle into his hair, the slight burn of his scalp causing him to eat you with more determination. His lips wrap around your clit, slurping and sucking gently enough to have you whimpering, your back arching up into him at the feeling.

Jungkook smirks when he releases your clit, nosing against it while his fingers circle your entrance, slipping in without resistance. The dirty thought that had crossed your mind before had been proven correct, Jungkook’s long icy fingers felt amazing inside your heat, spreading you open as if they were meant to be there. When he adds a second one, scissoring inside of you to stretch you out, a moan dies in your throat when you choke out, his lips come back to your center in a frenzy.

You can feel every ridge of his finger inside of you, grazing the bundle of nerves each time they thrust out, coupled with the way he’s sucking on your clit its not a shock that you’re quivering on the bed.

“So fucking wet.” He awes for a second, the tug on his scalp letting him know you needed him to go back to what he was doing. A gush of wetness escapes you, dripping down his palm and onto the floor and he hums, he can hear the pounding in your veins increase in speed, the fluttering of your heart sounding like music to his ears.

“C-close,” you keen out, your heels digging into him and bringing him closer, “fuck, bite me. Please bite me.”

Thats all Jungkook needed to hear, his fingers slip out of you to replace his mouth, quickly circling your clit to have you hurdling over the edge. You can feel the pressure building in your abdomen, the controlled flicks of his fingers have you whining out.

Just as you’re about to teeter over Jungkook dips down and kisses your inner thigh once more, opening his mouth to clamp over your skin. In a flash his fangs pierce your flesh, a brief feeling of searing pain shoots up your body before being replaced by intense pleasure when he fully latches on, lips suckling on your skin.

The rich liquid pours into his mouth, the same coppery sweet taste he had sampled earlier is increased with the pleasure you feel. Jungkook’s eyes roll back at the flavor, his fingers not letting up on your clit even with the choked gasp of his name as you reach your orgasm.

Your body trembles underneath him, your hands grip on his hair loosening up as he quenches his thirst. Everything feels tingly, each nerve ending on your body being lit up from the intense orgasm you just experienced. When he pulls away from your thigh, traces of blood spilling around his mouth he moans, nuzzling his way back to your center, gently licking the remnants of your orgasm off of you, enjoying how you whimper on the bed.

“So good.” He rasps out, his eyes flicking up to look at you and you gasp at how much brighter they are, a ruby red sparkling in the dark of the room, his eyebrow cocked up as he trails his way back up your body, letting your legs fall from his shoulders and back onto the bed.

His leather clad legs press against you, the feeling of his hardened bulge against your hip has you shuddering. “I’m not done with you yet, I’m going to ruin you baby.” He kisses up your chest, his eyes never leaving yours. The fucked out look on your face makes him rut against you, “You sure you want this?”

Your arms wrap around his torso, nails digging into his back as you rut up into him. His head drops down onto your neck when you grind against him, your wetness smearing along the leather. “I need it, ruin me Jungkook.”

The hiss he lets out has your toes curling, moreso when his mouth kisses along your neck, a teasing nip of his teeth on your skin, “Oh I will.”

Jungkook reaches down with one hand to unbotton his jeans, tugging them down enough for his cock to slip free. You don’t get a chance to look it over, the size of it being a total suprise to you since his lips were no on yours again, your eyes slipping shut as they worked together, teeth knocking into each other in a hurry.

He wraps a hand around himself, sighing into your mouth as he gives himself a pump. “Jungkook.” You groan into his mouth, wiggling your hips around as he positions himself between your thighs. He nudges your thighs further apart, your heels resting on the edge of the bed while his knees sink into the mattress.

“I know baby.” He mumbles against your lips, pressing another kiss to them. Thats when you feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, a slow rut of his hips following as he coats his length in your arousal.

Your nails dig into his back once more, the silk sheets gliding against your skin when you arch your back to get some sort of friction from him.

Jungkooks eyes are glued to where you meet, watching in admiration when he tugs your underwear to the side and eases himself into you, his cock sinking into your heat slowly. The feeling of him stretching you open has you moaning out loud, your head thrown back and exposing your neck to him.

“Fuck baby, you’re taking me so well.”

The stretch feels almost impossible for a second, you hadn’t seen his length but the feeling of it alone made it obvious that he was the biggest you’d ever had. When he bottoms out, his hips resting flush against your ass you whimper out.

“Feel so full.” You slur, humming softly when he kisses your cheek tenderly.

Jungkook just chuckles, “Gonna fuck you stupid.” Thats the only warning he gives you before inching back, rolling into you over and over until you’re adjusted to his size.

You knew after today you’d be ruined, you’d slept with your fair share of vampires but the way Jungkook’s cock split you open, pistoning into you in the most delicious way, you were done for.

The feeling of your nails digging in his back had him hissing, his arms caging you in underneath him. His eyes were focused on the way your breasts jiggled at every thrust, your body jostling upwards from the strength of them. Your face was screwed up in pleasure, your mouth dropped open as moans spilled out through your lips.

Jungkook was fucking you well and truly stupid, you looked lost in your pleasure, your walls fluttering around his length when he hit your sweet spot.

“Fuck,” you mewl, “so big. So–“ a gasp cuts you off when he speeds up his thrusts, the skin of his thighs smacking against yours with new found energy.

“Where’d those first time jitters go?” He wonders, one hand coming up to softly trail down your face, inching down until theyre placed around your neck, his fingers feeling the ferocious pulsing from your jugular.

“Such a fearless little human.” He grunts out with a groan, “Letting me do what I want with you, do you have any idea what I could do to you?”

A whimper leaves your mouth, your hips coming up to rut in time against his. You knew what he could do to you, if he really wanted to he could rip out your throat and drink you dry. Maybe it was the masochist inside of you, the idea of not knowing what could actually happen, of not being in control of the situation, that kept you going.

“I don’t care.”

That has a curious smile spreading across his face, “No? All you care about is my cock huh?”

You’re nodding immediately, yes his cock is all you care about. The way its stretching you open, the length of it hitting places inside of you without even trying. He fucked you like it was second nature to him, his thrusts being well timed, as if he knew the right way to get you falling apart underneath him.

“Can I–“ you press your palms against his chest lightly, the smal act of resistence causing him to still completely. He watches on curiously when you shimmy out from under him, your knees knocking into his as you turn over onto the bed on your hands and knees.

You’re facing the door now, seeing the flashes of light and the occasional person walking by the door and you briefly remember where you are. Jungkook watches you wiggle your hips at him, your fishnets stretched tightly over your ass.

“So fucking sexy.” He steps off of the bed, taking the time now to fully slip out of his pants, kicking them off and onto the floor before kneeling back onto the bed. His hands grasp your ass, kneading the flesh of them as he settles behind you, his palm coming up to land with a loud smack onto your skin. The sound mixing in with the thrumming bass of the club music and the moan you let out.

“C’mon, fuck me stupid.” You tease, dropping onto your elbows and spreading your thighs apart as you arch your back.

“Mm, careful what you ask for baby.”

His large palm splays across your back, pushing you down further while his other guides his cock back into you. The first thrust is a lot smoother than the last, the glide of your wetness helping him ease in to the hilt. This position has him reaching in deeper inside of you, your hands fisting the cool sheets as you moan out his name.

Its messy, the way his dick squelches every time it re-enters your, wetness coating his cock and dripping down onto the sheets. His palms grasp your hips, fingers digging into your flesh roughly. He knew he could crush you if he wanted to and the fact that you still laid here, drunk off his cock instead of running away, he knew he was just as ruined as you were.

“Jung-jungkook.” You gasp out, rutting back onto him with a small laugh and it catches his attention when he notices one of your hands come up to point at the door, “we have a visitor.”

He hums when his eyes lock onto the observer, another vampire he was familiar with, the dark red hair of Jung Hoseok flashes in the light. He’s leaning against the door frame, a drink in his hand as he watches on nonchalantly.

“Lets give them a show then yeah?”

He grinds against you with more purpose, one hand coming around to your front to meet your clit, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers until you’re trembling. Your pussy clamps around him, your mouth dropping open in a lewd moan, burying your face into the sheets while you let yourself get lost in the feeling of it all.

Knowing Jungkook was having his way with you while someone watched lit a fire inside of you, the way you were creaming his cock being evidence enough that you were clearly enjoying yourself.

“Harder, fuck me harder.”

Jungkook fulfills your request, starting to thrust into your heat harshly with no qualms about having a spectator. “You’re soaked baby, you gonna make a mess of these sheets?”

All of your senses are full of him, just him and his cock and the way he pounds into you, his fingers flicking against your clit with expertise. His grasp on your hips is the only thing keeping you from toppling over, your upper body laying limp on the bed as you let his ravish you.

When your eyes look up, meeting the gaze of the stranger by the door you smirk, sending them a wink and earning a chuckle from them.

Jungkook can feel you tightening up around him, his own release creeping up inside of him. He needs to taste you again, “Let me have another bite baby.”

He bends over your body until his nose pushes against your hair draped over your neck, a deep inhale sending shivers down your spine. Your hand comes up to move your hair out of the way, mewling when he nudges against your skin, “Oh god, yes.”

His lips latch onto you seconds later, the now familiar feeling of his fangs sinking into your skin making your whole body tense up this time. Your limbs lock up as he moans against your flesh, the warm blood dribbling into his mouth. Blood always tasted different coming straight from the jugular, the taste of it making his eyes roll back as he quickly ruts into you.

The euphoric feeling of him drinking from you pushes you over the edge once more, the pleasure sparking from the open wound until it reaches all of your limbs. Your walls clamp around him impossibly tight as you cum, a shout of his name leaving you as he fucks you through your orgasm.

His lips never leave your neck, suckling the blood from you as your body trembles underneath his. A weak whimper leaving your lips sends him over, his balls tensing up until he’s spilling into you, thrusting his hips against yours as deep as he could. The warmth of his cum fills you up, a soft sigh sounding out when he finally detaches from your neck, the smear of blood around your neck being licked up by him as he shallowly thrusts a few more times.

“Shit.”

Your eyes look up once more to find that the other vampire was now gone, leaving you and Jungkook alone once more, his cock still buried inside of you, your neck throbbing slightly after the abuse.

When he pulls out of you your hips full drop onto the mattress, the cool sheets feeling like heaven against your warm body. Jungkook chuckles at your worn out form, gently grasping you to flip you over to face the ceiling, not giving you a moment to recover before slotting his lips against your own.

You taste your own blood on your tongue, the coppery tang being new to you but you don’t mind it, not with the way he kisses you like you were more than just a messy fuck. He pulls back after a second and you grin at him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks, your thumb rubbing the drying blood from his chin.

“What did I taste like?”

He presses another kiss against you, “Like fucking heaven, I could die eating your pussy.”

The wink he sends you makes you blush, swatting his chest lightly with a laugh, “I meant my blood you perv.”

“Oh I’m the perv now?” He teases, catching your hand before you can smack him again, “I think you ruined me too baby, never tasted blood this sweet.”

You bite your lip at his words, staring up at him with wide eyes in an almost innocent way as if you hadn’t just participated in this scandalous act. He wanted nothing more than to proposition you into being his blood bag, a somewhat intimate request but he knew it was useless. Considering you had never been to this club before he knew you weren’t from around here, you’d be long gone in a few days, a distant memory that would simmer away over time and for some reason it pained him to think that so he chose to suppress it.

“Let me walk you home, you never know what monsters could be lurking.”

That same giggle that enamored him earlier is back now, “If I could handle you I could handle anyone.”

His eyebrows arch up at your teasing tone, a smirk curling his lip as he stares you down, “Is that so?” His eyes have that same predatory look in them, your skin breaking out into goosebumps at the way he stares at you, looking like he’s ready to dive in once more.

He wasn’t finished with you yet.

#goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #vampire!jk #jeon jungkook #jungkook one shot

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pappydaddy · 4 years ago

Text

tolerate it (p.w.)

A/N: I got tolerate it done! I have been wanting to write this one since I started this collection and I am so happy to have finished it this is one of my favourite songs from Evermore! I also somehow had this take another course while I was writing this and I accidentally connected it to another fic I am writing for this collection (evermore) so I have altered evermore's description to fit it. I just felt this chemistry as I was writing these characters and it just kinda happened. I also thew in a little easter egg relating to ivy in there - I just couldn't help myself because the opportunity was right there.

I want to let it be known that this is not Percy slander, it is just how this fic ended up. Percy is very career driven and he also cares about how he looks and his image and that is shown in this fic.

Anywho, I know there are a lot of people out there waiting on requests and they are coming, just very slowly. I have not had much time to work on writing because of school, but I will get your requests out eventually! However, I hope you lovelies can enjoy this in the meantime💛!

Paring: Percy Weasley x Fem!Reader, a bit of Charlie Weasley x fem!Reader (too much chemistry to deny honestly)

Show/Movie: Harry Potter

Not Requested

Taglist: @sarcasticallywitty15

No Voldemort AU, no corrupt Ministry (other than everyday corruption. NOT PERCY SLANDER, JUST CHARACTERIZATION (EXPLAINED ABOVE)

Warnings: Loneliness, breaking up, sadness, angst.

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*I COULD NOT GET A GIF - I AM SORRY BUT THERE are ABSOLUTELY NO PERCY GIFS AVAILABLE TO ME😭*

The sound of silence swirled in the room with the dust that floated in the golden rays of sunlight. For something so present in her life these days, Y/N was still not used to the painful silence. She sat on the cushioned couch in Percy’s study, a book laid open on her lap, her hands folded, her back straight. She never used to sit like that, she always thought people who did look like they were always trying to hide something. But, then again, she never used to think she’d be sitting in the same room as her fiancé while feeling like she was millions of kilometres away from him. She lifted her eyes slowly, trailing over the beautifully crafted hardwood floor, over the red and gold rug (that matched the decor of the room), they danced along the dark wood of Percy’s desk. They finally stopped when they landed on his flaming red hair as it shined in the afternoon sunlight. Her head lifted as she studied him. Hunched over his papers, he scribbled furiously. “Percy, dear,” She cleared her throat when her voice came out more mousey than she expected. Percy hummed, not lifting his head from his work. “I was thinking we could go to town today, shop around for some more things for your brother’s visit?”

“Why? Charlie will be fine with everything we have in the guest room.” Percy grunted, dipping his quill in the ink-pot. Y/N pursed her lips, setting the book on the cushion beside her.

“Well, maybe we could get different soap for the ensuite? Maybe some relaxing candles, stuff so he can draw himself a bath,” She suggested, folding her hands back in her lap. “I’m sure he will be tired from coming all the way here from Romania. He’s not used to England time anymore.”

“Charlie doesn’t need all that, besides, it’s not like he’ll have time to relax. Once he’s here, we’ve got to get right to work,” He shook his head as he read over the new paper in his hands. “We’ve got lots of work to do,” He paused, his eyes finally looking at her, but only to flick over her seated form. “You would understand if you were still working.” He jabbed.

Y/N nodded, rolling her lips as she let the comment slide off her back, not thinking too much about his quip, just like she did with the others. “Well, we should still get him something nice, welcome him into our house.”

“I can’t go to town, Y/N, I have to get this done. You can go if you think it to be so important.”

“But I thought it would be nice to go together. It is a beautiful Saturday and those aren’t due for another week-“ She tried to explain, but the sound of Percy angrily throwing his quill against the table cut her off, startling her.

“I can’t just run off to town on a whim. Now if you can’t sit in here quietly then you can go read in another room or something, I don’t care what you do as long as I can get some peace and quiet.” He exploded, gesturing his hand aggressively towards the closed door to his study. She silently looked at the door.

“Sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” She whispered, grabbing the book and raising from the vision, remembering the lecture Percy had given her last time she didn’t put her book back before leaving a room. On her way to the door, she gently laid the book on one of the built-in bookshelves, not even looking at it. Instead, she kept her eyes forward, not wanting to look at Percy as he bowed his head back down to scribble on the paper. The door opened with a creak as Y/N slid out into the large and empty hall. Softly, she rested her weight on the door till it shut. Heaving out a sigh, she let her head fall back against the beautifully crafted white door, the identical one beside her jiggling when the other locked into it with a click.

Living with Percy was not what she thought it would be. When she was just a naive schoolgirl, they talked of having a decent house with a cozy feel, the rooms filled with laughter and the warmth of family, nights spent by the crackling fire with hushed voices and tender touches. The memories of the daydreams she had looked like a fairytale, conjured up from the mind of a foolish girl who thought happy endings were real. Now, she was alone in this grand house, the rooms and halls feeling cold with the only sound being the echoes of her footsteps. Heaving a sigh, she pushed herself off the door and made her way to get ready to go to town.

____

The melody of classical music filled the room as it was bathed in the orange and pink hues of the setting sun. Y/N sat in the armchair by the fire, watching the flames licking the stone, the black smoke swirling up into the chimney. Percy sat in the chair across from her, a book open in his hands, his head bowed low. Many nights in the Common Room were spent like these, Percy’s nose in a book as they sat by the warm fire. It looked almost the exact same as those nights to anyone else who had witnessed them, but Y/N could tell the difference. Now, the fire felt just as cold at the space between them, gone were the soft touches, the stroke of Percy’s thumb against Y/N’s hand, the feeling of his side pressed against her side, the comfortable silence. Y/N missed it all, but the thing she missed the most were the glances that left her smiling and blushing while a storm of butterflies raged in her stomach. Now, she just sat watching him read with his head low, noticing every little thing he does and doesn’t do.

“Percy,” Charlie’s gruff voice spoke, speaking over the cracks of the fire and breaking the verbal silence. Percy looked up from his book, his eyes not even glancing at Y/N in their path to look at Charlie entering the sitting room. Y/N softly turned her head to look at Charlie who took a seat on the empty couch. “I just thought of something that we should talk about in tomorrow's meeting.” He informed him.

“Just one second, Charlie,” Percy interrupted him before he could continue, his finger in the air as he turned his eyes to Y/N sitting across from him. She already knew what he was going to say before the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Y/N, would you excuse us, we have to discuss business and you have no need to be here while we do that.” He finally spoke to her for the first time since dinner. She nodded, standing from the chair and smoothing the back of her dress.

“She doesn’t need to go, the house is far too cold for her not to be near a fire and there isn’t one made anywhere else but my room.” Charlie insisted, catching Y/N’s forearm as she went to walk by the couch, heading for the grand archway leading to the dark hall.

“Nonsense, she can make one with her wand in the bedroom,” Percy waved him off. Y/N bit her bottom lip, looking back at Percy. “What are you looking at me for? You know how to start a fire, I know you’re two years younger than me, but they still taught you the same things as they taught me in Hogwarts.”

“I know how to do it, but I can’t. My wand broke when I slipped on ice in town a couple of days ago, I haven’t been able to run to Diagon Alley to get it fixed yet, remember?” She reminded him meekly, not wanting the same reprimanding she had received when she had told him the first time. Percy tutted, rolling his eyes as he remembered, gently closing the book still in his hands and setting it beside his leg, sticking into the gap between the cushion and the armrest of the chair.

“Ah, yes, I remember now. It’s laying on your dresser snapped practically in half. How many times do I have to tell you not to take your wand when it is icy out? How many wands do you need to break before you realize that,” He lectured as if she was a child. “Very well, wait outside the doorway and I’ll come to start a fire for you.” He heaved out a sigh, beckoning her away with a flick of his hand. Nodding, she went to walk away, but Charlie had not let go of her, instead, he tightened his hold, keeping her in place.

She looked down at him, her lips parted slightly in shock as he glared at his younger brother before looking up at her. “You can just go in my room while Percy and I talk then I will come get you and we can go and start a fire for you in your room.” Charlie informed her in such a way that told her she was not going to argue with him. Nodding silently, she pulled her arm free from his now loose grip and exited the room as it fell silent with tense air between the brothers, her heels clicking on the hardwood and the cracks of the fire being the only sound.

They must have waited until they couldn’t hear her heel clicks anymore before starting to talk since she didn’t hear a single sound coming from the room as she walked down the dark hall, the only light coming from the flicking flames of the candles lining the hallway. She sighed, pushing Charlie’s door open and slipping to the room. She didn’t even notice how cold she was until she stepped into the warm room, she relaxed into the warmth, closing the door behind her to trap the heat in. Making her way over to the armchair stationed in front of the roaring fire, she watched the flames just like she had done in the other room, thinking. All she did was sit in silence, try to live alongside Percy without messing up and making him lecture her. She didn’t understand it. She couldn’t understand how this Percy was the same Percy who stayed up late in the Common Room to talk to her about the scars of her past and soothed each and every one of them, laying soft blankets over the barbed wire of her heart so she could escape and finally love.

She jumped slightly when the door creaked open. Startled, she looked up to see Charlie walking into the room, closing the door behind him again. “Sorry to startle you, I didn’t know you were so deep in thought.” Charlie apologized, sitting in the other armchair across from her.

“It is okay, Charlie,” She told him, moving to stand but he held a hand out to signal her to stop. Obeying him immediately as if he was Percy, she settled back in her chair, sitting posed with her hands folded delicately in her lap, nervous as to why he seemed so stern, assuming she was going to have to listen to another lecture. “Are we not going to start a fire in the master bedroom?” She asked quietly when he didn’t answer, only dropping his hand back to his thigh with a slap, shaking his head.

“No, not yet. I want to talk to you first.” He told her.

“Oh-” She trailed off, her eyes casting down to the rug under their feet before back up at him, confused. “About what? If it is about getting Percy to mention something in the meeting for you, he doesn’t let me talk about work with him-”

“It’s not about Percy, not entirely,” He cut her off, leaning towards her with narrowed eyes as he studied her. She gulped, leaning away, unsure of what he was doing. “You’ve changed,” He mused, leaning back in the chair after concluding his study of her, his eyes still burning into her as she shifted. She knew she changed, it was not hard to tell that she has changed. “You used to stand up for yourself, make yourself known. You were never the doting housewife type of person, but yet here you are, being treated like a child by your fiancé. Why?”

She shrugged, dropping her eyes to the floor. “People change. Percy is so mature and wise, he must be right so that means I should listen to him, he knows best.” She whispered, not believing a word she said. Percy was mature and wise, much older than her, but she knew that he was not right about how he treated her.

“I don’t believe that, but it’s late and you should get some sleep,” He stood, prompting her to stand as well, hurriedly as if she would be scolded for not being prompt enough. “I excused myself from the meeting tomorrow and I am taking you to Diagon Alley. So you have to be up, we are spending the day there and eating supper there as well, which gives you a break from the house chores and Percy commenting on how dirty the plates are or how you set the table wrong, or your cooking. Might even swing by and visit Fred and George’s shop, must have lots to talk to you about, those two.” He told her as he walked to the door, her following behind him silently.

“What about Percy, is he still holding the meeting? He must be mad about you cancelling on him.” She asked nervously as he led her through the darkened halls, the candles having been extinguished, the only light coming from the winter moonlight streaming in through the grand windows.

“He got an urgent letter from the Ministry, he had to leave immediately for an emergency, probably be gone tonight and most of tomorrow.” Charlie told her, opening her bedroom that she shared with Percy.

“I hope everything is okay, it must be very important for him to be called away at a time like this.” She commented, shivering as she stepped into the room that seemed to be even colder than the frozen hall.

“Nothing to worry too much about, I am sure it is just a vermin issue and he has to try to contact someone to tend to it. I think he muttered something about Flesh-eating slugs actually,” He didn’t even look at her as he flicked his wand at the fireplace, igniting the wood that laid stacked in it. Something about how he spoke told her that he wasn’t telling the truth and Percy hadn’t been called away, instead, having stormed off to the office. He pocketed his wand, turning to look at her as she stood in the middle of the room, the glow of the fire lightning it. “I will leave you this to sleep on,” He paused, walking to the door while still looking at her. “The sanctuary is looking for a new magizoologist with an extensive knowledge in herbology.”

____

Y/N walked out of Ollivander’s with her new wand encased safely in the box which was in a bag dangling from the crook of her elbow. Charlie walked out behind her, letting the door fall shut after they said bye to Ollivander. “Okay, now that you’ve got your wand, let’s pop into the Twin’s shop.” Charlie suggested, pointing to the brightly pained shop with the giant, animated man. She looked up as she slipped her knotted coin bag back into her pocket, taking in the shop.

“Sure I haven’t seen the shop in a while. I just never have time to come here. Not with all the chores I have to do around the house.” She shrugged, stuffing her gloved hands into the pockets of her travelling cloak.

“What on earth does my brother have you doing that takes up all your time?” Charlie questioned as they started to slowly make their way down the crowded street, taking their time and enjoying the feeling of walking through the snowy alley. Y/N shrugged again, her eyes looking down at the snow-covered cobblestone, the white fluff packed into the cracks of the cobblestone.

“I mostly clean around the house, but I have to do it a certain way, if I do not, I end up having to listen to Percy’s comments about how much he tolerates.” She told him as they neared the front door of the joke shop, Charlie pulling the door open, letting her go in first as he scoffed at her comment, but he didn’t say anything. Y/N ignored Charlie, looking around the busy story, watching as fireworks whizzed around, ducking as one came right at her head.

“Let’s see what Fred and George think of how he’s treating you,” Charlie hummed, gently leading her farther into the shop so that he could close the door, cutting the cold winter wind off. “There’s one of them now.” He pointed to the tall ginger who was talking to a young customer, nabbing a product from the top of the tall shelf. Before she could protest, Charlie was walking around her and approaching the twin with long strides.

Scurrying after him, she caught up just in time for the twin to turn around, the child scampering off elsewhere to browse. “Ah, Charlie, my dear brother. To what do we owe the pleasure of you gracing our shop too,” The twin exclaimed, a feeling of joy and fun surrounding them as they spent more time in the store. “And Y/N, the future Mrs. Percy Weasley. Good to see you, Madam.” He bowed to her extravagantly, making Y/N looked around the shop with reddened cheeks, hoping nobody saw his little show.

“Hi, George,” Y/N greeted, recognizing the voice. Appearance-wise, she had a hard time telling them apart, but as soon as they talked, she was able to pinpoint just which twin was in front of her without fail. George nodded at the greeting, standing right as Fred wandered over to the group leisurely. “Fred.” Y/N greeted him first, his hands in his pockets, making his suit jacket flare out, being a picture of laid-back.

“Good morning, Y/N,” He nodded to her before nodding to his older brother. “Charlie. What can we do for you today?” He posed the same question his twin had, looking between the pair he never thought he would see grace his shop together. Charlie shrugged, looking at the shelf next to him, poking a box.

“Just popped in to take a peek and get your opinions on a topic we were just discussing,” Charlie told them, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets, looking back to his tall brothers. “Percy.”

“And what about our dear brother?” Fred asked, rolling onto the balls of his feet then rocking back onto his heels. Y/N shook her head at Charlie, fairly annoyed with his mission. She knew everything he was saying, they were all thoughts she already held in her head, but how could she leave Percy after all the love that they held for one another. That love had to still be there, it couldn’t just disappear suddenly.

“Has Y/N changed in the past two years?” Charlie blurted out, confusing the two pranksters in front of him, making them share puzzled looks before looking at Charlie again.

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with Percy?” George wondered.

“Look, yes, I have changed, but Percy has to still love me,” She directed the comment to Charlie, leaving Fred and George to look at each other, questioning what was going on. “All that love couldn’t have just disappeared. We love each other and while life is not how I pictured it, I do not see why I have to do anything to change it. If Percy thinks life should be like that, then he must be right.” She expressed.

“Tell us, Y/N, what life had you pictured?” Charlie asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he instantly knew this would win the argument for him. Y/N shrugged, thinking, her eyes drifting around the store as she thought back to the visions she fell asleep to. The stories she thought would be a reality, but now know that they were just fairytales of a naive girl.

“I guess I always pictured Percy and I sitting on a couch in front of a warm fire, him reading a book out loud. We would share soft touches as we both relaxed after a long day at work. The house would be warm and lively, heated by our love for each other as we did daily activities together like cooking,” She paused, her eyes dancing along the ceiling as fireworks fizzled out overhead. She watched the once bright colours flicker and sputter before going out, leaving a trail of grey smoke swirling into the air. “He would do great things in the Ministry, building up the Wizarding World and I would be making strides in the Magizoologist field,” She sighed, looking back at the three men. “But I guess, somewhere along the way, now he’s building his career and I am just sitting at home, trying to make sure everything is perfect for him all the time.” She trailed off, hanging her head as she thought it through.

“Personally, I don’t see how your life now can compare to the life you pictured.” George spoke up.

“Of course it is incomparable, but life never goes as planned. What I wanted and what I am supposed to have are two very different things,” She agreed. “Besides, it’s not how the world works, I am just naive and childish, Percy tells me that all the time.” Fred shook his head, pointing between himself and his twin.

“No, no. We are childish, you were never naive and childish. You had dreams and an idea of how you wanted your life.” Fred told her, oddly wise and serious for him. George nodded along, silently agreeing. Huffing, Y/N’s tongue flicked out, swiping along her drying lips. Glancing at Charlie, she saw him looking at her, a look in his eye telling her to believe them. She found herself trusting his eyes, staying locked in his gaze until she came to her senses and darted her eyes back to the ceiling.

“It isn’t too late to have your dream life, Y/N,” Charlie spoke softly. Y/N could feel his eyes on her still, but she ignored it and continued to look at the ceiling where fireworks once were zooming around, darting towards the shelves, fizzing and sparking with beautiful colours. “You just have to talk to Percy if you always pictured him in your life. You can have the life you pictured, what you want and what you are supposed to have are not two different things.” He told her.” She listened to his words. She could do it. She could remove the painful dagger he had jabbed into her dreams and pull it out if she had to.

“I’ll talk to him.” She nodded, looking back over at Charlie who smiled at her, proud that she had finally listened. She found the corners of her lips turning up into a smile as she gazed into his eyes, feeling a weight lifting off her shoulders and chest. Just then, pops and fizzes were heard overhead, making her look up, seeing the bright colours swirling around the ceiling before each of them whizzed off elsewhere in the shop.

“Well, that means it is a new hour-” Fred started, looking up at the new fireworks speeding through the store, dodging one that almost hit him.

“Lunchtime.” George finished, also gazing at the fireworks.

“Well, we best be heading to lunch, we’ve got lots to discuss and do today,” Charlie nodded to his brothers who started a game of rock, paper, scissors to see who would take their lunch first. “I’ll see you at Y/N’s and Percy’s tomorrow night for the family dinner before I leave?” He asked them, earning nods and a frustrated grunt from Fred when George beat him in the first game.

“See you guys.” Y/N waved as they started a new round. Charlie and her turning around to make their way out of the shop, walking back out into the bitter cold. Y/N couldn’t help but let her destined conversation with Percy weigh on her mind.

____

Y/N collected the dirty plates as Percy talked to Bill about Ministry business, the others having migrated to the living room after Y/N had denied help, the only one who insisted passed her stubbornness and actually forced her to let him help was Charlie who took it upon himself to clean and put the dishes back. “Here, dear, let me take those into the kitchen for you.” Molly marched back into the dining room, hands out ready to grab the stack of dishes from Y/N.

“You do not need to help, Molly, you are our guest, I am more than capable.” She insisted politely, adding another plate to the stack. It was one of their fancier sets, not that any of their sets weren’t fancy, but these ones were the more expensive set that they used for family gatherings.

“Nonsense dear, you can’t take all of these dishes without your wand. I’ll clear the table and you can go search for it.” Molly waved her hand at the young woman, forcefully grabbing the stacks of plates from her hands.

“Did you lose your brand new wand already?” Percy asked her, cutting off his conversation once his mother was in the kitchen. Y/N looked to him, shrinking back under his judgemental gaze, folding into herself as if she was a child being scolded.

“I had it in the bedroom while I was getting ready, I left it on the bed to go into the bathroom, but it was gone when I got back,” She explained, but he just huffed, rolling his eyes at her, muttering under his breath, clearly embarrassed she had been so foolish in front of his family. “I honestly think it got wrapped up in the sheets, I am sure I will find it when it is time to go to bed.” She spoke up.

“I am very sorry for her immaturity, Bill,” Percy apologized. “Y/N, could you go wait in the kitchen while I finish up with Bill then I’ll call you back in.” He told her. Nodding, she bowed her head, walking through the doorway leading to the kitchen. Molly and Charlie looked at her, but she simply waited outside of the doorway, trying not to listen to Percy and Bill talking.

“What are you doing,” She jumped when Charlie appeared beside her, his present startling her. “Sorry,” He apologized, drying his hands on one of the dishtowels as the dishes continued to watch themselves in the sink, Molly leaving the room to get more dishes from the table. “But what are you doing?”

“Waiting for Percy to be done, he wants to talk about me losing my wand,” She told him. Charlie groaned, tossing the towel to the counter messily, giving her a look. “I know, I know,” She muttered, knowing what he was thinking. “I need to talk to him, but I am not talking to him right before a huge family dinner nor am I talking to him while you’re here.” She told him, turning around as he walked farther into the kitchen, starting to put the dishes away as they placed themselves into the rack after drying themselves.

“That means you’re going to talk to him tomorrow after I leave, right?” He asked, not noticing Fred and George walking into the kitchen in search of more food, the pair stopping to listen to the conversation.

“Yes, at some point tomorrow I will talk to him. For now, I can survive this treatment for another night, besides, I want to put the conversation off because what if it’s the end of Percy and I? Am I really ready for that possibility? What if there is still love buried under this mess?” She worried, watching as he moved through the kitchen to place the dishes back, having already figured out the layout in the short time he was there. She was amazed at how quick he was to adapt to change.

“I guess then that is the difference between the life you picture and the life you are meant to have, there are things that just do not work out because they are holding you back from your dream. If this conversation is the end of you and Percy then it is the end.” Charlie shrugged, stopping what he was doing as the dishes started to lag behind. She hummed nervously, twisting her fingers as she shifted.

“Y/N, could you come in here for a moment?” Percy called to her. With one last look shared between her and Charlie, she turned, nearly bumping into George in the process, not realizing he was in the room. He smiled down at her, moving out of her way as Fred wandered up to Charlie, patting him on his back.

“You and I aren’t that different, are we Charlie-boy? Both trying to break up engagements.” He spoke, but something told Y/N she was not meant to hear that.

“I’m not trying to break up with engagement, Fred, that’s ridiculous-” She couldn’t hear what else Charlie was saying as she walked into the dining room again, spotting Percy sitting in the same spot, his hands folded on the clean table in front of him, Molly walking into the kitchen, smiling as she passed her, clearly unaware she was going to be lectured by her son.

“Really, Percy, I know where my wand is, I just didn’t have enough time to actually look for it in the sheets.” She told him, taking a seat at the table, a few spots down the head he sat at, his cold eyes on her. She gulped, shifting in her seat as she folded her hands in her lap, angling her body to look at him better.

“You couldn’t have told me you lost your wand? I could have found it and spared us being embarrassed in front of my family,” He questioned, exasperated. “You know, I know I saw this a lot, but I really do tolerate so much from you. Please, for the love of Merlin, next time think about how we appear to others before you tell people that you lost your brand new wand. I mean, how clumsy are you? First, you break one and now you lost one.” He shook his head, standing up, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor.

“I really am sorry, Molly was asking and I couldn’t lie to her,” She insisted, standing up herself. “Where are you going, is this the end of the conversation, I don’t even get to defend myself?” She asked as he walked towards the archway leading to the hall. He paused, looking over his shoulder at her.

“I have to go do damage control so that we are not the laughing stock of the family. Why don’t you go and work on the dishes with Charlie?” He suggested in a way that told her to just listen to him. Not wanting to put him into a worse mood than he already was, she obeyed, making her way back into the kitchen where Charlie worked at putting the dishes away again, the twins had left, obviously taking the hallway back to the sitting room.

“Hey, I know this might not be the time, but I just realized that I might not be able to return for Christmas again this year so I wanted to take this opportunity to say Happy Christmas to you.” Charlie said when he heard her walking in, looking over his shoulder as he placed a glass back into its spot.

“Happy Christmas, Charlie.” She returned the festive greeting solemnly, making Charlie give her a concerned look before deciding not to ask any questions, clearly seeing that she was too wrapped up in her head to listen to him pester her. Instead, he went back to putting the dishes back, glancing at her every few minutes.

____

The house had returned to its normal silence once again, leaving Y/N sitting alone in the sitting room, waiting for Percy to get home from the Ministry. She twisted her fingers together, staring at the flames in the fireplace, heating the room. Looking up as she heard the door to their house opening, she stood, rushing through the sitting room to look out into the hall, seeing Percy shrugging off his cloak and setting his briefcase down. “Percy,” She spoke softly, gaining his attention. He hummed, looking up at her as he untied his shoes. “Could you come in here a moment, I have to talk to you about something.” She asked him rather nervously.

“Of course, just a moment while I change my shoes, I don’t want to track snow into the house,” He told her, grabbing another pair of shoes to slip on. She nodded, ducking back into the sitting room and making her way back over to the sofa, taking her spot back. The thought of this conversation being the end of her relationship with him weighed in her mind, but after spending the day all by herself for the first time in a week, she realized how it already felt that it was over between them for the longest time. She wasn’t able to think too much about it anymore as Percy walked into the room, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them, trying to warm himself up. “What do you need to talk about?” He asked her, standing in front of the fireplace, holding his hands out to it.

“I want my dream life,” She blurted out, not giving herself a chance to chicken out. Gulping, she watched as he glanced over his shoulder at her in confusion. “I want to go back to work and I want to know if you still love me.” She continued, throwing the plan she had rehearsed for this conversation out the window.

“Of course I still love you-”

“Really? Because it seems to me that I am just a burden that you tolerate and I should not just be tolerated, I should be celebrated and shown love, but all you do is make comments and roll your eyes as if I am a child,” She ranted, the words just pouring out, easing the pressure she didn’t know she had weighing down on her chest. “I want to be loved and appreciated, not banished to doorways and shooed out of rooms. I want to be able to live, I want to be relevant in someone else's life, I want to make a name for myself, not just making it into the footnotes of your success story,” She paused, looking lifting her eyes from the floor, looking at him to see him fully turned towards her, his mouth hanging open as he blinked at her. “And I so desperately want to know that there is still love between us because you were who I imagined in my perfect life. Please,” She choked on unshed tears, feeling the tell-tale lump in her throat, blocking the words from leaving her mouth. “Please tell me that this is all in my head and that there is a flame still burning in the depths of this darkness.” She pleaded, a few tears slipping down her cold cheeks.

She was silent, the only noise coming from her were the sniffles as she tried to not let out the sobs and cries she was holding back. He stayed silent as well, his eyes stuck to the floor under his feet, not wanting to meet her eyes. A sob slipped past her lips as she realized what the silence meant, but part of her didn’t want to believe it. “If you don’t tell me it is possible for us to love each other still, then I will have no problem taking this dagger you jabbed through my heart out, leaving the idea of us bleeding out on this coffee table if that meant I could have my dream life,” She was fully prepared now to leave him, to dump the weight of him off her shoulders. “Believe me, Percy Weasley, I can do it if you do not tell me that I somehow got this all wrong,” She gave him another opportunity to speak up, to fight for her, but he remained silent, still not lifting his eyes to meet her. Just then, she knew that she could not deny it anymore and her heart shattered with the force compared to the killing curse, breaking into millions of little, tiny pieces as she realized that there was no more love and he was just tolerating her to save face. “Well, I guess this belongs to you again,” She whispered, pulling the engagement ring off her finger, gently laying it on the clean coffee table, standing up. “I already had my things ready in case this happened so this is goodbye, Percy.” She kept her eyes on him, hoping that he would lift his eyes from the floor finally and tell her to stay, that he did love her still, but he didn’t. He remained just as silent and cold as the house they were in. He gave her no other choice but to walk out of the room and walk out of this life, now free from the dagger in her heart and the weight of him crushing down on her, free from him only tolerating her.

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

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okay so: coops and jily do the couple fear pong challenge (couple vs couple fear pong by cut for reference)?? pleaseee - m

Anon, you definitely read my mind with this. I’ve had this idea in the works for almost a month and I’m so glad you suggested it!! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for alcohol (beer)

“Are you ready to lose?” James asked as he set up a few lines of red Solo cups.

“Try me,” Remus shot back with a grin. Their respective partners shared an exasperated look.

“Hello, hockey fans, and welcome to Fear Pong! I’m your host, Marlene McKinnon.” Marlene set an armful of beer bottles on the ping pong table and began filling each team’s cups halfway.

“I’m Lily Potter, and this is my husband James.” Lily waved to the camera and stole one of Marlene’s bottles to take a sip. “Ugh. It’s like wheat-flavored moonshine.”

“I think she takes it as a challenge to find the worst alcohol,” Remus mused. “I’m Remus Lupin, the best winger on the Lions.”

“Shut it, Loops.”

“Bite me, Pots.”

“And I’m Sirius Black, the team captain,” Sirius said. “As you can see, this is going to get out of hand very fast.”

Marlene leaned on the table, looking between them with a grave expression. “The rules are simple. If you throw the ball and it lands in a cup, you have to do the dare on the coaster or drink the beer. The team who drinks all their cups first, loses. We’ll do the deadliest of games to decide who goes first: rock, paper, scissors. Choose your champions.”

Sirius and James moved to the front of the table. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

“Shit,” Sirius muttered as James’ paper defeated his rock.

James grinned as he headed back to his place. “I can already taste victory.” Lily took careful aim, and the ball landed perfectly in the center of their cups. “That’s my wife, everybody!”

Remus rolled his eyes and picked up the coaster. “Leave five hickeys on your teammate. Your opponent chooses where. Aw, man, everyone’s going to see them at practice.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to chicken out and drink?”

His jaw ticked. “Where.”

“One on his cheek, the rest on his neck.”

Sirius leaned down with a heavy sigh and Remus worked a hickey onto his cheek, pulling away with a soft pop and appraising it. “Not bad. Four more?”

“Four more.”

It took less than a minute for the rest of the marks to appear in a light lilac color. Remus licked his lips and picked up the ball. “Those are such weak hickeys!” James protested. “Come on, Loops, you’re better than that.”

“And yet they’re already done.” He picked up the ball and readied it. “Tragic.”

A few droplets of beer splashed out of the cup and Lily lit up when she read the dare. “Switch outfits with your partner. Oh, baby, you’re going to look gorgeous!”

“Do we get a screen or something?” James asked as Lily began unzipping the back of her dress. Two camera crew members came over with a large blanket and they stepped behind it; after a couple minutes of rustling, Lily emerged in her husband’s too-big sweatshirt with the cuffs of his jeans rolled up.

“Do you need a hand with the zipper?” she asked with a light laugh.

“Got it. Oh, wow, I look hot.” James came into view and Sirius held a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. The floral dress fell to his mid-thigh and the low neckline exposed quite a bit of his chest. He swayed back and forth, making the skirt twirl slightly. “Very breathy.”

“Alright, handsome, your turn.” Lily handed him the ball and he shot it—it bounced off the rim and Remus whooped.

“I can already taste victory,” he mimicked in a terrible Boston accent; James threw the backup ball at him and it smacked him in the forehead. “Ow!”

Unfortunately, Sirius’ throw also went wide, ending up down Lily’s baggy shirt. “Hang on, it’s in my cleavage. Nice aim, Cap.” She dug around for a moment as Sirius flushed, then emerged with the ball, giving it an elegant toss.

“Damn it,” Sirius muttered as he took the coaster. “Make out with your teammate for a minute, but one of you can’t move their lips or tongue. Again with the kissing? Really? Can’t we just switch clothes and call it a day?”

“Come on down to the front, pardner.” Marlene said with a false Southern twang, patting the backs of the two folding chairs she had set up. “Get your smooch on.”

“I can’t move my face, right?” Remus asked as he sat down across from Sirius. Marlene shook her head.

“Get it, Cap!” Lily cheered as he reached out to cup Remus’ jaw in his hands.

Sirius had to turn away and laugh for a second, rolling his shoulders out. “Okay, ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Why do you look like you’re gearing up for a game?” Sirius flicked him on the thigh and Remus pressed his lips together, still smiling slightly.

He started soft, placing slow kisses all over Remus’ mouth. “It says ‘make out’, Cap, come on!” James complained. “If that’s your idea of making out, you need to apologize to your fiancé.”

Remus raised his eyebrows and Sirius huffed a sigh, leaning back in for a proper kiss with a significant increase in tongue. Lily whooped and Remus’ shoulders began to shake with suppressed laughter—Sirius moved his hands to down to steady him as the timer continued counting.

“Ten seconds!” Marlene warned. The final buzzer went off and Sirius pulled away, wiping at his lips.

“That felt so weird,” Remus said as he dried his mouth off with his sleeve and tugged Sirius in by his wrist. “C’mere.”

Sirius bent down for a quick kiss before they walked back to their side. “Alright, our turn.”

“I get to throw it this time.”

“What? Why?”

Remus took the ball out of his hand and kissed his cheek. “I say this with all the love in the world, but you suck at beer pong. So does Pots, if that makes you feel better.” His shot spun around the rim of a cup before falling in with a clatter.

“Take an article of clothing off for every sexual partner you’ve had,” James read. “Aw, come on, I’m only wearing a dress and none of you want to see me naked.”

“You’re not wearing underwear?” Sirius looked mildly alarmed.

“I’ve had more than two partners, dude.”

Lily shrugged. “I’m not about to protest seeing you naked.”

“I would!” Remus and Sirius chorused with equal measures of horror. James rolled his eyes and downed the cup.

“James, you have to throw it,” Marlene interrupted as he handed the ball to Lily. “You need to switch each time.”

“Shit,” Lily muttered, giving it back. “Don’t fuck this up for us, honeybun.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He took careful aim, tossed it, and landed a perfect shot in one of the cups without a coaster. Sirius and Remus groaned as Lily cheered. “Hell yeah!”

Remus drank the beer as Sirius lined up the ball; it sailed through the air and bounced off two cups before sinking into the third. They high-fived with both hands while Lily took the dare out. “Call your parents and tell them you’re pregnant—oh, we can’t do this.”

“Why?” Remus snorted. “You’ve already done it once.”

“I would break my mother’s heart if she found out it was a prank.” James shook his head and passed Lily the cup. “I would get the lecture of a lifetime.”

“Can you imagine pranking poor Effie with fake grandbabies?” Lily asked as she drank.

“The guilt would eat me alive,” Sirius agreed. Lily lined up for another shot. “Miss, miss, miss, miss—fuck.”

“Call a friend and ask for a threesome.” Remus’ eyebrows shot up and he looked at Sirius. “As much as I want to win this game, there’s no way we’re doing that.”

“Hell no, I’m the captain. That’s an abuse of power or something.” Sirius drained the cup and set it aside, moving so Remus could get a better angle for his throw. It landed in one of the cups they had already hit and Lily cursed as she drank again.

“Marley, we need to have a talk about your alcohol.”

“I want you guys to know that I specifically asked for the shittiest beer they had that would get people drunk real quick,” Marlene said off screen. “It comes from a place of love.”

They traded three more shots back and forth, each one bouncing off the table or threatening to take someone’s eye out before James got a lucky shot. “I thought you said he was bad at this!” Sirius protested as he took the dare out.

“I thought he was!” Remus defended. “What do we have to do?”

“Let them paint us with glue and pour glitter on us.”

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Shirts off, unless you want to ruin them,” Marlene said as she carted two containers of glue and some small buckets of glitter out. Remus and Sirius obliged, then stood on the clear tarp she had laid out. “Pots, Lils, go nuts.”

“This is the best day of my life,” James said gleefully as he took a paintbrush and began drawing a wobbly smiley face on Sirius’ torso.

“It’s so drippy.” Sirius let out a long exhale and bounced on his toes as James added polka dots and squiggles all over the place.

“What are you writing?” Remus asked as Lily began touching up her work. “Are those words?”

“Maybe. Glitter time!” Without further ado, she dug her hand into the bucket and threw a handful at Remus’ chest. It exploded in a small poof and only some of it stuck; he wrinkled his nose.

“It’s in my mouth.”

“Gay rights—oh shit that’s cold!” Sirius yelped, batting James away. “Just do the glitter already!”

“Don’t rush an artist!” Nevertheless, James went over and shook about half the bucket onto Sirius.

He spat out a mouthful of sparkles and glared. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that was necessary.”

“Whatever you want, David Bowie.”

“He looks more like Freddie Mercury to me,” Lily mused as she continued sprinkling glitter over Remus, revealing her name written in careful cursive. “This is going to be such a pain to wash off, you two.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Remus shook his hair out and a small waterfall of glitter fell out onto the tarp.

“Back to your stations, everyone!” Marlene called.

The game only got rowdier after that as each team did everything in their power to prevent dares, ranging from shaking the table to sneezing loudly each time someone squared up for a shot. Remus finally sank one and nearly smacked Sirius in the face with his celebratory fist pump as Lily groaned.

“Let the opponent pour ice water down your pants.” James frowned and looked to the camera crew. “I’m not wearing any pants.”

“You’re wearing underwear,” Marlene pointed out. His eyes went wide as she came out with two bowls of ice water and handed them to Sirius and Remus, whose smiles were downright maniacal.

“I really hope you’re done having kids,” Sirius said as James turned around. “On three. One, two—”

Both of them shouted in shock; Remus burst out laughing as Sirius shook the final few ice cubes into James’ underwear. “That was not three!” Lily tugged at her pantlegs and ice cascaded out, darkening the fabric along the way. “Aw, it looks like I peed myself.”

James braced his hands on the table and leaned forward, taking deep, slow breaths. “I can’t feel my balls,” he managed. “Holy fuck, that’s so weird.”

“It’s like a punch bowl down there.” Lily grimaced and picked up the ping pong ball. “I hope you two are ready for payback.”

Her throw was immaculate, despite both Sirius and Remus blowing on it as it arced over the table. “This is terribly convenient,” Remus said. “Wear a childbirth simulator for fifteen seconds each.”

“Fifteen seconds?” Lily swung around to the camera in disbelief. “I was in labor for four hours!”

“You’re also way stronger than we are,” Remus laughed as Sirius helped Marlene drag a beanbag out onto the glittery tarp.

“Who’s up first?” she asked.

“Sirius,” Lily said without hesitating. “He kicked off my labor, he gets to know what it felt like.”

“Do I get any choice in this?” Sirius asked, though he was already laying down and brushing glitter off his torso to make room for the sensors. Lily took the remote and pressed a few buttons. “Should I apologize now or—shit! Shit, shit, mon dieu, c’est horrible, s’il vous plait, owwwww.”

His hand collided with Remus’ and he grabbed it, squeezing it tight as James watched, wide-eyed, from the sidelines. “Baby, you’re going to break my hand,” Remus wheezed.

Marlene’s timer went off and Sirius scrambled to tear the sticky pads off, practically throwing himself off the beanbag. “That was hell. Lily, don’t ever feel like you need to have children again.”

Remus swallowed thickly as he took Sirius’ place, settling back into the cushions. “Hold my hand?”

“Please don’t break my fingers.”

Remus’ knee jerked up on reflex as soon as Lily turned it on and he yelled, eyes flaring wide with surprise. “Motherfucker! Ohhhh my god this is what death feels like. This is what death feels like, I hate I hate it Sirius Black do not let go of my hand.”

“Four hours,” Lily said mildly as he gritted his teeth and Sirius winced at his grip.

The cheerful jingling of the timer made Remus nearly sob with relief; he peeled the sensors off his skin and immediately went over to hug Lily. “You are the most incredible person I know. Please never make us do that again.”

“You chose to do it, Glitter Boy,” she laughed, giving him a playful shove after returning the hug. “Fire away, Cap.”

James had to drink, then Remus, then Lily, and after her shot went wide, Sirius landed a miracle throw. “Let the opposing team shave your head,” James read. He looked up at them and narrowed his eyes. “Touch my hair and I’ll end you.”

“We only have two left,” Lily warned as he took the cup and drank it. “And only one has a dare.”

“I’m not going to sacrifice my hair to win bragging rights.”

His next shot was a laser throw that nearly knocked over the cup it landed in. Sirius’ shoulders slumped when he took the coaster. “Let the opponent smash a pie in your face.”

“Could be worse.” Remus shrugged. “I’m glad I didn’t wear my nice pants today.”

“These chairs are going to live in my nightmares,” he said as they returned to the tarp. Lily and James carefully took the whipped-cream pies from the camera crew.

“Woah, what’s that?!” Lily shouted all of a sudden. Remus startled, turning to look at her, only to get a full pie slammed directly into his face. James didn’t hesitate—he really put his hips into it, and some whipped cream splattered back onto the table.

“Moisturizing is very important,” he said, rubbing the pie in slow circles around Sirius’ face until almost all of it was coating his skin. “Sugar scrubs are all the rage.”

“Do I look exfoliated, sweetheart?” Sirius asked, turning in Remus’ general direction.

“If I could see anything right now, I would say no.” Remus wiped his eyes off and flicked the cream at Lily, who quickly stepped backwards. Sirius leaned over and licked Remus’ cheek, laughing, until Remus grabbed Lily’s mostly-empty pie tin and shoved it in his face.

“I deserved that,” he said, voice muffled by aluminum and filling.

The video cut for a moment, and when it returned, the four of them were pie-free and back at the table. The game had clearly continued off-camera, because each team only had one cup left. Their cheeks were significantly more flushed than before.

“Just out of curiosity,” Marlene cut in as Sirius picked up the ball. “On a scale of 1-10, how drunk do you think you are right now?”

Lily made a face. “Maybe, like, a four?”

“Three,” James said.

“Yeah, three.” Sirius hiccupped at the end of his sentence, clearly startling himself. “…three and a half.”

“I’ll have to agree with the collective,” Remus said. “Not anywhere close to drunk drunk, because it’s shitty beer, but pleasantly buzzed. Take the average of everyone else and that’s…about three and a third? The math is skewed if Sirius goes with three and a half instead. I dunno.”

There was a beat of quiet before James shook his head. “Only you would do tipsy math to calculate how drunk you are instead of guesstimating like the rest of us. Fuckin’ nerd.”

“Fuck off, you can’t even do addition.”

Sirius threw the ping pong ball before the argument could get any more heated and it bounced off the table, hitting James right on the cheek. “Oops.”

“Hey!” It was James’ turn to throw next, and he deliberately aimed for Sirius’ face—Sirius ducked and it flew past him, hitting something off screen with a clatter. “Sorry!”

“Ha! That’s what you get.”

Remus rolled his eyes and took the ball; it went into James and Lily’s final cup despite their defense tactics. “Ah, shit,” Lily muttered as she picked up the coaster. “Pour beer into your partner’s mouth using only your feet. J, do you trust me with this?”

“I love you, but no.”

“That’s fair. To the tarp!”

Remus and Sirius watched with far too much glee as Lily laid down and Marlene put a fresh beer cup between the soles of James’ feet. “Ready?” he asked her. She nodded and opened her mouth as he began slowly tilting it.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Remus and Sirius chanted from the sidelines. About halfway through, the cheap plastic cup folded and rolled out of James’ grip, bouncing off Lily’s nose and falling to the floor.

She sat up quickly, checking her hair as the last of the liquid formed a puddle on the tarp. “Is it in my hair?”

All three men squinted at her. “Nope,” James said after a moment. “All good. Did we complete the dare?”

Marlene made an ‘ehh’ noise as she tossed them a towel to mop up the spill. “You didn’t finish the cup…”

“The coaster said nothing about finishing!” Sirius protested. “They did what they were asked.”

“Babe, we want them to lose,” Remus muttered.

Sirius winced. “Right. My bad.”

Both Remus and Lily heaved a sigh as they went back to their positions. It was Lily’s throw next—neither of them tried to prevent the inevitable and the resignation on their faces when the ball landed with a gentle plop aged them by ten years. Remus slid the coaster out. “Huh. Not bad. Let the opponent give you both three-minute makeovers.”

“Dibs on Remus,” Lily said immediately. He looked rather flattered by that and Sirius groaned.

“Pots, I don’t trust you with makeup.”

“Smart boy. Get over here and let me make you handsome.” James grinned and took the container of makeup supplies from Marlene, patting the two chairs at the front. “Lils, I don’t know what half this stuff is.”

“That just makes it more fun!” she said cheerfully as Remus sat down and she rummaged through the various bottles and brushes. “If we only have three minutes, I think we should do something simple and pretty. The glitter is really going to make it better.”

“Three minutes is so much time!” James laughed. Both Marlene and Lily gave him incredulous looks. “No?”

“Honey, it takes me twenty minutes to do a full face of makeup in the morning.”

“Jesus.”

“Time starts…now!” Marlene tapped her phone and Lily uncapped a dark pencil; Remus leaned away from her as she neared his face with it.

“What is that?”

“Eyeliner.”

“Please don’t blind me.”

Lily scoffed. “Have a little faith, Loops.”

James on the other hand, grabbed some mascara and began shakily applying it to Sirius’ lashes. “This is surprisingly difficult. How do I know if it’s working?”

“Usually you can see the color transfer over.”

“My eyelashes are already black,” Sirius said, wincing as James jabbed the side of his nose. “Watch it.”

“They’re also really long,” Lily said as she continued drawing a steady line along Remus’ lids. “Mascara might not do very much for the lucky bastard.”

“It’s not my fault I have long eyelashes!” Sirius protested as James moved on to the second eye.

“Do you have any idea how many women would kill do have those?”

“Ten seconds!” Marlene called. Lily swore under her breath and began putting the finishing touches on the second eye. “And…done!”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I feel hot as hell,” Remus laughed, batting his eyes at the camera. Marlene handed him a mirror and his eyebrows rose. “Thank you, Lily, I look so fancy.”

“My eyes are sticking together.” Sirius grimaced and blinked a few times so the clumpy mascara would settle. He looked over at Remus and went still.

“What?”

“You—hmm.” He paused for a second. “You look really nice. Very punk rock.”

Remus smiled. “Thanks. Some of your glitter stuck to the mascara, so you’re very sparkly right now.”

“Re, you have light eyes, which helped a bit,” Lily explained as she tossed the eyeliner and mascara into the makeup container. “Contrasting colors always pop better, and everyone looks sexy in eyeliner.”

“I wore it for Halloween last year and it was awesome,” James said, heading back to the table.

“Final throws!” Marlene called. All four of them looked over in surprise. “Did you all forget the point of the game? Loser is whoever drinks their cup first.”

Remus turned Sirius by his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “Please, please don’t miss this throw.”

“As if I’m letting James fucking Potter beat us in beer pong,” Sirius scoffed, kissing his forehead before lining up for the shot; it bounced off the rim and dropped right in. The room exploded into noise as Marlene blew the victory airhorn and Remus and Sirius began jumping up and down, yelling incoherently. James and Lily both groaned as he drank their last cup.

“Do we get a prize?” Remus asked.

“Bragging rights,” Marlene said as she took their empty cups. “I might have some Lions merch—”

Four hasty ‘no thank you’s answered and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Alright, sign us off!”

“Thanks for watching, Lions! I’m Sirius Black—”

“I’m Remus Lupin.”

“I’m Lily Potter.”

“And I’m James Potter.”

Marlene popped into view one more time. “Quick disclaimer: we do have a designated driver waiting today. Remember to like and subscribe for more Lion Pride content!”

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koala-otter · 5 years ago

Note

can i get some soft modern!zukka pls 👉🏻👈🏻

anon honey, you can get whatever you like

I see a lot of fics where Sokka’s comforting and assuring Zuko, and as pointed out in this post by @nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice, something really great about their dynamic is the way Zuko actively appreciates and praises Sokka’s abilities when he’s fairly insecure about them

so here’s some soft modern!zukka written with that in mind 2k+ words

The ride back home is quiet except for the rain outside, because Sokka doesn’t say anything. Usually, after a party, he makes jokes about stuffy diplomats and comments extensively on the scant spread of hors d’oeuvres, but now, as Zuko watches him carefully in the back of the cab, Sokka only sits quietly with his arms crossed, his head turned to look out the window streaked with raindrops.

He is still quiet when they make it to their building in Ba Sing Se’s Middle Ring, and then when they walk up the three flights up stairs to their apartment. He doesn’t even turn on the light as he walks through the door and into the living room, pausing only to kick his shoes off on the way in.

Zuko watches after him, flicking the light on once Sokka’s passed by in his stormy wake. He loosens his tie and leans against the open doorway of the living room as he racks his brain for something to say.

“Do you want anything to eat?” he finally asks. “There wasn’t a lot of food at the party. You must be starving.”

“Not hungry,” Sokka replies with a huff. He sinks lower into the sofa.

Zuko widens his eyes. Something is really wrong, then. He ventures further into the living room, ready to work his subtle charms on his unsuspecting boyfriend.

“Is something wrong?” Zuko asks plainly.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sokka says loudly. He huffs again and crosses his arms.

Zuko rubs the right side of his face before looking at Sokka once more. “You know, it’s pretty obvious when you’re in a bad mood,” he says.

Sokka gives a short, dry laugh. “Right, and you’re the king of subtlety,” he says sarcastically.

They painted the walls robin’s egg blue in the living room when they moved in because it reminded Sokka of home, and it reminded Zuko of everything but his own. The building is old, so, while the hot water never lasts long, their apartment is a vision made up of high ceilings and tall windows with original crown molding. Zuko looks at the living room walls. During the day, the way they stretch up toward the white of the molding evokes memories of blue skies dotted with curly clouds. But at night, like now, when the light fades, and the wind whistles, and the windows are barraged with rain, the walls go dark. Almost as if the room itself were overcast.

Zuko lets a breath out and leaves the room. Sokka can’t keep anything to himself for long, but he still needs time to stew. They might as well have food ready for when he finally lets it out.

Zuko reaches the kitchen and takes his suit jacket off, draping it over the back of a chair. The rice cooker sits on the countertop, a housewarming gift from Katara, ready for use. He takes out the pot and rinses rice in it, quickly, before measuring the water up to the first knuckle of his middle finger and placing it back in the cooker. He turns around from pressing the button to find Sokka shuffling in through the doorway, pulling a chair away from the kitchen table to settle heavily there instead. Zuko refrains from commenting on how he’ll wrinkle the jacket behind him, and instead grabs a packet of Sokka’s favorite seal jerky from the pantry and brings it with him to the table. He reaches over and takes Sokka’s hand.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks.

Sokka pouts for another moment before he’s ready.

High-pitched, and a little whiny, he erupts, “Everyone at your work thinks I’m stupid!”

Zuko startles away before his eyes narrow and he draws closer to Sokka. “What?” he asks, disbelieving.

Sokka waves his arms helplessly in the air and throws his head back. “All those stupid lawyers and human rights dorks you work with! They think I’m an idiot.”

Zuko almost wants to laugh, but, with a glance at Sokka’s face, thinks better of it. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he instead says earnestly. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

Sokka scoffs and crosses his arms.

“Really, Sokka,” Zuko insists. “I don’t know anyone else getting their PhD in mechanical and aerospace engineering at Ba Sing Se, the best university in the world.”

“I do,” Sokka says, though the corner of his mouth is tugging up into something of a smug smile.

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Right, only everybody in your lab,” he deadpans. He pauses. “There’s all the other stuff, too. Like when you help me with my work. An engineer doesn’t have to be so good at economics, too.”

Zuko works as an associate expert at the United Council of Nations for Economics, Science, and Culture. He has spent many a night dragging briefings home and poring over them at the kitchen table, trying to make sense of some graph or diagram, when Sokka will take a break from his designs and calculations to glance over his shoulder.

“Whoa, Earth Kingdom agriculture’s gonna take a real hit next year,” he once said, pointing to a data point. “That’s way too big of a cabbage surplus.”

Zuko could only gape at him, and then buy Sokka the most expensive gym bag he could find when raising the point in a meeting the next day earned him a raise.

“It’s intuitive,” Sokka says almost humbly, looking down at the kitchen table.

“If it’s intuitive to you, you could replace everyone who was at the party tonight,” Zuko replies.

Sokka's expression turns doubtful, and he bites his lip. Zuko resists the urge to kiss it.

“They were all laughing at me,” Sokka says.

Zuko tilts his head at him. “You’re funny,” he supplies hopefully.

“I wasn’t telling any jokes,” Sokka says sadly.

The sound of his voice wrenches at Zuko’s heart, and he barely registers it when he rises and finds himself tilting Sokka’s face up by his chin, only able to get this angle when Sokka is sitting. He bends down and kisses him. It only lasts a second, and when he pulls back, Sokka looks no less upset. Zuko is about to try to drum up some more words of comfort for him when the rice cooker starts beeping.

Zuko smiles apologetically at Sokka and goes back to the counter, pressing the button and opening the rice cooker. A little puff of steam rises from beneath the lid and disappears on its way to the ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, turning around to look at Sokka and leaning his back against the counter.

“Not your fault,” Sokka says with a shrug, though the dejection still reads clearly across his face.

The torrent outside only seems to have gotten stronger. The wet leaves of the maple tree outside their building slap against their windows, the sound so loud and forceful, they can hear it even in the kitchen.

“Jeez,” Sokka says, shifting forward to glance back at the archway that leads to the living room, “that’s loud.”

Zuko spies the jacket behind him, and he immediately brightens.

“Here,” he says, coming over to reach into the breast pocket. Sokka looks up at him in confusion as he pulls out the folded page of a newspaper and a pen. “Take this.”

Sokka takes the paper and unfolds it carefully. His brow immediately furrows in confusion. “What am I supposed to do with a crossword?” he asks. The question almost sounds like a whine. He eyes the paper once more before looking back up at Zuko like he might have gone insane. “And one you already finished?”

Zuko shakes his head. “But I didn’t finish it,” he says excitedly. He points to an area of the grid. “Look, I couldn’t figure these three out. And when I got into work, I asked everyone, and they couldn’t figure them out either.” He smiles. “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Sokka.”

Sokka looks doubtful once more, but he lays the crossword on the table. Zuko moves back to the counter and hears the click of a pen behind him. This is a good idea, he thinks, grabbing a carton of eggs from the fridge and placing a pan on the stove. Now Sokka will be occupied while he makes dinner, and they’ll have food ready just in time for when Sokka feels better, and he has time to fry eggs just the way Sokka likes them, yolks so runny they practically bleed onto the rice, and then they can watch one of his favorite history documentaries, and they’ll curl up on the sofa and fall asleep to the sound of the rain, or if they don’t feel like sleeping—

“Done!” Sokka says.

Zuko whirls around, two eggs in his hand, still uncracked, to find Sokka grinning smugly at him. “How?” he demands, genuinely surprised.

Sokka shrugs, the grin immovable. “Easy,” he says. Zuko puts the eggs down and goes back to the kitchen table, his hand landing on Sokka’s shoulder. Sokka grabs it as he explains, “‘A Northern delicacy’ is obviously roast duck. And then ‘failure to communicate,’ with the duck in mind, is that expression your uncle’s always saying: ‘Like a chicken talking to a duck.’ And then ‘skinny appendages?’” He looks up at Zuko before he cheers, barely able to contain himself, “Chicken legs!”

“Let me see that,” Zuko says, grabbing the paper with his free hand. He stares at it closely. A small scowl reaches his lips. “Are you kidding me? I spent a whole hour on the monorail trying to get these. I almost missed my stop! And it was just ‘roast duck’ the whole time?”

He looks up sharply when he hears Sokka laughing.

“I mean,” Zuko starts, a blush creeping into his cheeks as he smiles awkwardly, “I told you you were smart.”

“Actually, I think you called me the smartest person you know,” Sokka corrects jokingly.

“You are the smartest person I know,” Zuko insists.

He keeps smiling at the scratchy characters of Sokka’s writing on the crossword next to the careful strokes of his own when he feels Sokka pulling him by the hand. Once Zuko is standing in front of him, Sokka throws his arms around his boyfriend’s middle and hugs him tightly, burying his head into Zuko’s ribs.

“Thanks, Zuko,” he says quietly into the fabric of Zuko’s dress shirt.

One of Zuko’s hands lands on the top of Sokka’s head, stroking his hair till he reaches the end of his wolf tail. Then, Zuko wraps his arms around Sokka’s neck and shoulders and hugs him back fiercely, protectively.

“Love you,” he says, and he smiles when he feels Sokka nod against his chest. He rubs Sokka’s shoulders and upper back, trying to ease the tight muscle beneath his hands. “Do you think you might want something to eat now?”

Sokka pulls his face away from Zuko’s shirt to beam up at him. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says enthusiastically.

After their easy dinner of fried eggs and seal jerky on rice, Zuko ends up being right; they go back to the living room and watch a documentary on the construction of the ancient air temples. They lie on the couch with Sokka between Zuko’s legs, his head on Zuko’s chest. The rain has stopped outside, but Zuko hardly notices with Sokka pressed against him. From this angle, he can pull the tie out of Sokka’s hair and comb his fingers through the soft, brown tresses, as well as the fuzz of his undercut, while the narrator debunks a theory that aliens teleported the building materials up the Potola Mountain Range.

“What do you think, Sokka?” Zuko whispers near his ear. “Did aliens build the air temples?”

Sokka’s response is a light snore against his chest.

Zuko suppresses a laugh. There’s no way of getting Sokka to bed without waking him, so Zuko settles in behind him instead. He wraps one of his arms protectively around his boyfriend’s body, while the other stays in place to let his fingers keep playing with Sokka’s hair, enjoying the soft smile it coaxes onto his relaxed mouth. The clouds outside clear to make way for the nearly full moon, whose light spills through the towering windows into the apartment. The dark lifts from the room, the walls glow an otherworldly blue, and Zuko sinks beneath Sokka’s weight into the night’s quiet.

#my writing #ask #anon #atla #atla fanfic #fanfiction #zukka #zuko #sokka

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anothertimdrakestan · 5 years ago

Text

Totally F*ckabke

Tim Drake x Reader

(SFW don't worry haha)

Words: 1.8k

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“Hi! Can I request 20 with civilian fem reader and Tim?” (20. well fuck me. "gladly")

LINK TO PROMPTS -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

Ok so I don’t know who you want to say what and I believe with every ounce of my being that it could 1000% go either way and it’s totally cute so I decided why not write both! Thank you for the inspo!

Reader -> Tim

Public speaking was never your strong suit. You’d like to meet a person who doesn’t get sweaty, jittery, and just a complete nervous wreck during presentations. It didn’t help that this was one of those shitty presentations where the class got graded on paying attention so all eyes really were on you and you were the last presentation of the day. With note cards shaking in your sweaty hands you slowly walked to the front of the room, looking at your classmates who looked bored out of their mind.

Making your way to the front of the room you stopped when your teacher screeched “Timothy! No sleeping in class! What is this? The fourth time I’ve caught you this week?” Glancing up you watched as the school genius rolled his eyes, lazily sauntering to the front of the class slumping into a front row seat. With a yawn Tim propped his head up on his arm mumbling something about the irrelevance of this class for someone of his intellect. While you couldn’t help but agree, you needed to ace this presentation to secure your grade for the semester.

Finally done with the situation, the class’s attention turned to you. Taking a deep breath you began, hoping you wouldn’t run out of time before the bell; trying not to look at the notecards was easy for the first few slides, but nearing the end you needed to be reminded of a key fact to your presentation. Looking down at your notecards you realize you’d smudged almost all the words with your shaking, sweaty hands. So frustrated with yourself you just let slip “Well fuck me” with a groan. While this may have shocked any normal class it was what Tim said next that shook the world.

“Gladly” With that your high school classroom descended into chaos. Your teacher continuously switched between yelling at you for cursing and Tim for even worse while some people in the class whooped and patted Tim on the back and certain girls glared at you for drawing Tim’s attention. Standing in front of the class, a blushing mess, you wanted to melt into the floor and die in one of the cracks in the floor.

Suddenly the bell rang, the majority of the students in your class stood up as you froze, realizing you probably just flunked this class. Deciding you needed to stay back and beg for the teacher’s forgiveness you pressed yourself to the wall and watched students filter out, some winking at you, some glaring, and some making wildly inappropriate gestures.

After begging for another chance and explaining your outburst your teacher let you off, clearly more upset with Tim, who had already left the classroom. As a student who normally worked really hard she let you go, but you had to make a whole new presentation as punishment. More work, but not a flunk so it was a win. Thanking her profusely you practically skipped out of the class, all had not been lost!

Abruptly turning towards the exit you missed a certain classmate waiting outside the classroom for you. “Y/n- wait up!” recognizing the voice you rolled your eyes and kept walking, but you couldn’t help a little smirk at the idea of Tim - Mr. Future Wayne Enterprises CEO waiting for you. As you opened one of the double exit doors he sprung out the other jumping in front of you, looking a little regretful and surprisingly nervous. Stopping in your tracks you crossed your arms and waited for him to talk.

“So, um, I just wanted to say sorry cuz I, um, I just kinda blurted it out and I’m really sleep deprived - like all the time, I practically live off coffee you don’t even know - that’s not the point, basically totally my bad, but like: can you blame me you’re really pretty and very nice plus I think you’re smart even though you don’t show it off but what I mean is, uh, please accept my apology. Plus I heard you get to do the presentation again so that’s good!” Finally he paused to breathe, you took a moment letting it all sink in and somehow finding his exasperation cute. Tim looked up at you with expectant eyes. With a sigh you decided it was fine. Smiling up at him you nodded. “It’s okay, plus pretty boy you’re not so un-fuckable yourself” watching his face flush was payback enough.

“Well if you think so, maybe I can... make it up to you? I can help you with the second presentation?” you agreed, liking the idea of getting to know the sleep deprived, fast-talking, genius coffee monster. “It’s a date!” you smiled, exchanging numbers before you walked off, unable to wipe a grin off your face. What you didn’t notice was Tim behind you grinning punching a fist in the air mouthing “YES” as you walked away.

Tim -> Reader

With a yawn you cursed yourself for covering the late shift for y/b/f at Big Belly Burger, especially after a long day of school. No one ever came in but the store was open 24/7 so for the night it was just a chef who was surfing the internet with earbuds in and you, trying not to sleep on the cash register. When the clock hit 3am you decided it was time for your shift drink, black coffee.

While you were in the back grabbing a coffee mug you could’ve sworn you heard the entrance bell jingle, but it was probably just your imagination. Stretching your arms you made your way back towards the coffee pot and saw four boys sitting at the bar. Every single one looked different, the tallest looked bored, like he didn’t want to be there while the second tallest looked expectant, constantly messing with the shortest, ruffling his hair, pinching his cheeks, and just constantly mothering the young boy who looked about ready to fight anyone who messed with him again. In the back of the group was a lean looking boy, he yawned and looked intently at the coffee pot you had begun brewing, he pushed his slightly messy hair back and you couldn’t help but trail your eyes down to the skin showing when he raised his hand...

“Hey princess a little help over here?” the tallest boy raised an eyebrow at you, snapping you out of your moment as you rushed up to the counter with a smile. “Yeah, sorry, long night. No one usually comes in this late but what can I get for ya?” putting on your best smile you couldn’t help but steal glances at the yawning boy, while the other two older looking guys were good looking, he was the only one who radiated kindness and a lack of the overconfidence the other three carried themselves with, he reminded you of yourself.

Taking their order you had to shake the chef awake, but he began preparing the food. Walking out you noticed the boys had stayed at the bar, clearly waiting to order drinks from you. “Alright what do we want? Milkshake, coffee, soda pop, or water?” the tallest answered first, “Chocolate milkshake!” while the kid looked up at the once motherly figure as he replied, “I’ll do a vanilla and Damian, uh the kid, will take a water. What about you Tim?” mentally logging the two youngest’s names you and Tim made eye contact for the first time, looking directly at you he lost all form of language. Trying to cover for him you asked, “saw you looking at the coffee pot earlier, can I get you some?” he nodded, looking down as one of the boys started laughing. “Jay stop please” came from Tim.

Trying to break some tension you said “So little fella here is Damian, tall and brooding is Jay, english major is Tim, and the one who paid is Dick” you waited for confirmation. Slightly impressed the boys nodded, adding that they were brothers. Chatting while you prepared and blended their shakes you realized they were the Wayne brothers, but you didn’t want to embarrass them. You were so tired, your brain holding no self control, wanting to learn more about the boys, especially Tim. Learning that Dick demanded they bond every other week and this was tonight’s chosen activity you understood the different boy’s emotions.

While handing each boy their drink you held on to the handle in hopes you’d touch Tim’s hand. “Uh it’s hot here, grab the handle then I’ll let go” feeling his hand wrap around yours made the both of you blush and clearly distracted Tim as he dropped the mug of coffee. “Well fuck me” Tim groaned, he jumped up glaring at his brothers as the laughed, the two of you began wiping up the mess. Tim hopped over the bar to help you clean on your side where the majority of the coffee was spilled, you couldn’t help but be impressed with his agility. While both of you bent down below the bar you decided to be brave, whispering in his ear, “you said ‘fuck me’ and I just want you to know I would gladly” he completely flushed and you popped up, throwing out paper towels.

Tim eventually rose from behind the bar, still blushing uncontrollably and smiling. “Shit lemme get behind that bar I want what Drake’s having princess” Jason began to get up with a smirk before he was pulled down by Dick. “Sorry buddy she’s clearly going for Timbers.” Dick smiled approvingly while the youngest Wayne rolled his eyes, tired with the flirting. “TT y/n I believe it is, I can see our food is ready but please take all the time you need trying to get with my brother but can I please eat while the two of you idiots make eyes at each other.” a wildly embarrassed Tim leaped over the bar again, this time going for Damian.

Spinning on your heels you grabbed the food and placed it in front of each boy. As they ate you chatted with them. Damian and Jason were clearly bored with the small talk while Dick couldn’t stop grinning. Before leaving Tim tried to hype himself up to get your number. As the other boys walked out he stayed with hopeful eyes. Not having to say anything you knew what he wanted. “Would you like a receipt?” you asked with a wink, again unable to form coherent words he nodded. Handing him your number on a folded piece of paper, you kissed his cheek over the bar and waved goodbye. Watching him walk away unable to wipe a grin off his face as his brothers patted him on the back you felt like you could actually see a future with Tim.

#tim drake #tim drake x y/n #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake fluff #dc fluff #tim drake x fem!reader #bat boys #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #tim drake x civilian!reader #tim drake cute

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goodlucktai · 4 years ago

Note

Yes for sanji fics!!! Could you write 4 or 45 for sanji pleeease?? ❤

PROMPTS LIST

4. “Hold on, you died.” “Yeah, well it didn’t stick.”

does anyone else remember candy from a stranger? anyone? no?

Sanji is awake. Sort of.

He feels himself being dragged, slowly, the old woman struggling with his deadweight. The ground is rough beneath him, scraping his cheek and bare arms raw. There's grit in his eyes. He can't even close them.

He doesn't feel any of it. All of this might as well be happening to someone else. He’s only a silent passenger.

With a grunt of effort, the old woman manages to haul him through a narrow doorway. It’s dusty inside, dimly-lit, and humid. Something is hard at work on the stove, a pot frothing past its boil. It smells good, but strange. It’s not something Sanji recognizes.

He’s dropped in a heap on the floor, his cheek pressed against the tile.

“I struck gold with you,” the old woman says. She sounds winded, but cheerful enough, as she steps over his prone form and wanders toward the stove. “Once I take what I need from your body, I’ll turn what’s left of you in for the reward.”

Her words should be alarming, but they’re too distant. They’re too far away to mean anything to him. Sanji is caught up in staring at his own hand where it’s curled limply in front of his face, trying desperately to move one of his fingers.

It doesn’t so much as twitch. He’s paralyzed.

His heart is beating too slowly, his pulse weak and faint. It’s as if his body is falling into a deep sleep. Sanji can feel himself starting to swim in and out of consciousness.

No, no, he babbles inwardly, and he would be thrashing and writhing if he were capable of it. His brain is babbling, panicked, but it’s throwing signals out into a void. Nothing is responding. All systems offline. Sanji can’t even move his fingers. Get up, he snarls at his own self, move!

He can’t even blink.

“My Devil’s Fruit synthesizes living tissue into whatever chemical compound I want,” the old woman says. “It’s so hard to find willing donors, especially when I need so much of them.”

She picks up a wicked-looking instrument that wouldn’t look out of place in Chopper’s office, and sets it back down. Then she picks up a knife that Sanji recognizes; long and skinny and slightly curved, one he would use to fillet a fish.

Cold dread ices out whatever remaining warmth his body managed to retain.

He can’t track her movement as she steps towards him. He can only watch her shoes shuffle closer across the cracked tile. She’s humming as she lowers herself to her knees and reaches for him.

“This one, Chopper? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure! His scent goes this way!”

Those dear, familiar voices cut through the fog. Sanji feels like he just grasped a livewire. The old woman drops his arm with a startled hiss, struggling back up to her feet. She hurries away, out of his line of sight, and then the door bursts open.

“Sorry, old lady,” Luffy says with absolutely no decorum. “I’m looking for my friend. Have you seen him? He’s a cook.”

“Luffy, describe him.”

“I just did! He’s a cook!”

“Oh, it’s just me here,” the old woman says in her disarming, warbling croon. “I live alone. Whoever you’re looking for isn’t-- “

“He is,” Chopper insists. “I can smell him.”

“Sorry, we’ll just take a quick look around,” Usopp says.

The telling flip-flop of Luffy’s sandals draws nearer. He leaves sheer pandemonium in his wake, as is his way; the old woman starts shrieking at them to leave her property, and Usopp tries to reason with her without raising his voice, and Chopper keeps saying, “I know he’s here, I know it.”

Sanji grapples to stay conscious, but it’s a losing battle.

The last thing he hears is his name in Luffy’s voice, exactly the same way he said it hours ago, before Sanji went storming off. Bewildered, concerned, the tonal equivalent of reaching a hand towards him.

“Sanji?”

###

He wakes up at home.

He lays there for a moment, blinking up at the familiar ceiling of Chopper’s infirmary. Sunny is rocking, her wood and bearings groaning as she bears them across the sea. Rich golden light pours in from all the windows.

Blearily, he flexes his fingers. They tighten and loosen around the soft cotton blanket. He’s never taking such a simple thing for granted again.

Nami’s voice says, “Pull that shit again, and I’m keelhauling you.”

Sanji turns his head. It takes a significant amount of effort, but it’s worth it to see her thundercloud scowl.

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely. He means it.

“Shut up,” she replies. She gets up from her chair to sit on the edge of the bed and coax him upright with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’re dehydrated. Get some of this water down or Chopper’s putting you on an IV.”

Her hands are shaking. For the life of him, Sanji can’t tell if it’s more from anger or worry.

“What happened?” he asks.

“We thought you were dead,” Nami says thickly. “Your vitals were so low it took Chopper four times to find your heartbeat. We thought-- and Luffy-- “

Sanji can only imagine. His heart is pounding now, as if to make up for earlier, and he scrambles in an ungainly way to get out from under the sheets.

It's telling, he thinks, that Luffy isn't in the room. Just that-- it says more than enough. It fills him with a deeper dread than that old woman's fillet knife did.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Nami demands, but there’s a thread of resignation in her voice. She already knows. If it were her sitting in Sanji’s place, God himself couldn't keep her from running to Luffy’s side. But, probably because she was stationed here by Chopper, who trusts her to be the voice of reason against all odds, Nami puts her hands on Sanji’s shoulders to still him. “Hold on, you died.”

“It didn’t stick,” Sanji replies, drawing on every ounce of stubbornness in his body. “I need to see him.”

“You need to not pass out when he sees you," she says, "because if you hurt him again even a little bit, I'm throwing your fancy pasta machine into the ocean."

This, Sanji can tell, is not an empty threat. She points at him severely, and then opens the infirmary door and steps outside. Sanji barely has time to wring the blanket in his lap anxiously before the door bursts open again and his captain is there.

Luffy's eyes are wide beneath his mop of hair, darting over Sanji's face as though there's no safe place for them to land. His hands are clenched in the front of his own shirt, above his scar. He's frozen where he's standing in the doorway. He looks like he doesn't know if he's welcome here or not.

What a fucking joke.

"Get over here," Sanji says shortly, waving at him with both hands. The distance between them is making him itchy with nerves. "What are you doing?"

That's all it takes. Luffy lurches into motion like someone prodded him in the back with a hot iron poker. He sprints across the room and doesn't stop at the bed; climbs right up next to Sanji instead and throws his arms around him. His embrace loops at least twice more than human arms rightly should.

He's shaking, face buried against Sanji's shoulder, and Sanji has never felt worse about anything in his entire life.

"I don't care what it takes," he says. "I don't care what I have to do. I'm going to make this up to you."

Luffy leans back enough to look at him. It's the same way he always looks at him. It's the way he looks at everyone he loves.

"You're alive," Luffy says. "I don't need anything else."

"I need to," Sanji insists quietly.

His captain frowns, uncomprehending, but unwilling to deny his nakama anything they need.

"Okay, I guess," he says reluctantly. He gives it some thought, brow wrinkled very seriously, and Sanji sees it when the lightbulb goes off in his brain. "How about pancakes for dinner? Then we'll be even."

It's Sanji's turn to close his eyes and lean against him. He just needs a minute. Sometimes Luffy is more impossible than usual. In a minute, he'll participate in a jailbreak from the infirmary and an exodus to the kitchen, and he'll cook chocolate chip and banana pancakes until Nami rips the spatula out of his hand and bodily drags him back to bed.

He just needs a minute.

Luffy seems content to sit still for the time being, warm and whole beside him-- the two of them safe in this sunny room, with their family nearby, cradled in the invincible arms of the open sea.

#one piece #op #opfic #black leg sanji #straw hat luffy #nakamaship #my writing #prompt #anonymous

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dranza · 4 years ago

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Race you

Draco x Reader

Getting a little closer to Draco. Its a slow burn!

Word count: 1804

Warnings: I dont think so, please let me know if you notice any.

“Hey y/n. Y/N?” A deep whisper calls at me from the desk behind.

I had come to the library in my study break to get away from all the noise and actually be able to concentrate on my charms essay. I had a whole week to do this but low and behold I was having to rush it in my final break before its due. Trust me to try and cram 3 pieces of homework into an hour and a half. I had already been distracted when I saw Draco walk into the library a little while ago. As he slowly walked through each aisle, browsing the books, a soft knot in his brows as he read through a few pages. He had me stuck in a daze. I was glad when he passed to sit behind me, out of sight, making me finally able to focus on trying to get this bloody essay finished.

“Y/L/N!” his whisper was more direct now, one sharp order for me to turn to him.

“What?” I shoot back at him, I can get rather irritable when I'm studying, but as my eyes catch him all my frustration leaves me.

Draco sits with three books open in front of him, one hand twirling a quill between his fingers and his head resting in the palm of the other. His grey eyes look up at me and he pouts. “What were the three water-related constellations Professor Sinistra pointed out in the last lesson?”

“Errr…” I give him a sorry look, I haven't even started to think of the astronomy homework yet.

“I’ve got Pisces and Eridanus but I can’t, for the life of me, remember the third.” He flips through the book closest to him in frustration.

“One minute…” I pull out the notes I had borrowed from Hermione and scan through to the constellation names. “Only Hermione is actually able to read her rushed scribbles. Errr, Cetuh? Cetus? ”

Draco sits up with this information and grabs at one of his books. “I swear I read through that. C-E-T-U-S?”

I nod in response.

With his fingers gripped tightly around the quill he hurriedly copies out a sentence from the book and dramatically bounces his hand off the parchment as he adds his final full stop. “Perfect. That's me done then.” He sets his quill into the ink and leans back in his chair. His long arms stretching up over his head for a few seconds and then releasing them with a loud sigh. “How much have you got left?”

“I just need to proofread my charms paper. Then I’ve got arithmancy and then astronomy, so not much!” I reply sarcastically and then throw my hands to my face letting out a frustrated, but quiet, squeal.

“I can help... if you want.”

I slowly let down my hands, eyeing the white haired boy, shocked that he would be willing to waste his break to help me. “Really?”

Draco chews at the inside of his mouth, “I mean, only if you want, it's just that I’ve already done it so.” A smirk begins to form on his lips. “Of course not suggesting that you wouldn’t be able to get it all done in the next 45 minutes. Look at you, you've clearly got it all organised and planned out.” With a nod of his chin he signals towards the messy piles of notes, parchment and books I have on my desk.

“Hey!” I giggle, “It's an organised mess ok.”

“That's exactly what I'm saying.” he stacks the books on his table into a neat pile and drags his chair to seat himself opposite me. Taking the parchment from my hand he slides a pot of ink towards me. “Here, I’ll finish reading this for you and you get started on the Arithmancy Worksheet.”

I smile at him as I accept the ink and flip open my Arithmancy book, scanning over the contents table.

Without taking his eyes away from the piece he is reading, Draco mumbles a quiet “46.”

I drag my finger to number 46 and there it is, the exact topic I need. “I knew that.” I whisper with a cheeky grin.

He lets out a deep, breathy chuckle, tilting his head to the side, “Ofcourse.”

I speed through the question sheet, looking up at the handsome boy in front of me now and again as he tries his best to be discreetly correcting some mistakes on the sheet he is reading.

I sit my parchment to dry and move onto the Astronomy worksheet. This is also something I should be able to speed through. Although the names can tend to escape me, constellations have always been so interesting to me, also I have Hermione’s notes so I can’t really go wrong.

Draco places the finished paper onto the desk and rests his elbows on top of it. “You know, for someone who stays up all night and leaves their work till the last minute, you sure as hell have managed to write a brilliant essay.” Sliding his chin over his fingers until he finds a comfortable spot to rest it, he smiles at me.

I lift a single brow at him. “Oh please… I saw you crossing out and adding stuff to it.”

“I didn’t say you were a good speller. Bloody hell, you were adding and taking away the wrong letters left, right and centre.”

I let out a hearty laugh and exaggerate on his point. “Yeah, I rarely manage to spell anything but my name right.”

“But what you’re actually saying is quite an interesting perspective. Contrary to what I’d heard, I believe you're not just a pretty face are you?”

I try and fail to stop the blood rushing to my face. “Thankyou Dray.”

“Dray?” he tilts his head, frowning but amused. “What, two syllables just too much work for you?”

I click my fingers and point at him jokingly. “Yes… also I think it suits you, it’s cute.” I shrug.

Draco shakes his head taking in a sharp breath, now it was his turn to try and hide a blush. Leaning over me, he reaches a book from his desk. From it he pulls out the book mark (a pressed stem of eucalyptus) and begins to read.

We sit in an easy silence while I finish the last few questions.

The both of us look up as Madam Pince walks up to our desks signaling to the clock. “Do you two not have a class to get to?”

“Shit.” I mutter under my breath as we begin clearing our things. We only had 5 minutes to get to the highest tower on the other side of the castle for astronomy class.

After promptly sliding all his stuff into his bag, Draco waits patiently for me to messily stuff my bag with the scraps of parchment, books and quills I had spread all over the desk. I look up at him as I finish and he holds his arm out, gesturing towards the door. “After you.”

We exit the library and I notice just how long Dracos legs are, his strides are probably double mine. “Ok, I know we're in a rush but my tiny, little legs cannot keep up with you.”

He looks back at me with a cool smirk and begins taking longer strides. “Not my problem y/l/n.”

“Hey!” I jog a few steps to catch up to him and playfully elbow his side.

He stops abruptly, looks me dead in the eyes and then caught in a laugh he shouts “RACE YOU!” He speeds away, catching his bag as it slips from his arm and throwing it over his shoulder.

“WHAT? NO!” It takes me a second to get over my initial shock and I race after him.

I keep my eyes fixed on his snowy hair and as we weave through the other students and I start catching up to him.

We run through the courtyard, me just a few steps behind him. “Come on slow coach!” he calls out to me as he spins to see how far behind I am. “Oh shut up Malfoy!” I retort, laughing as I skip over the legs of some 1st year girl laying on the grass.

As we turn into a hallway Harry and Ron are walking towards us. “What are…?” Harry begins to question but Draco cuts him off.

“Excuse me gents.” he blurts out as he shoots between the two Gryfindors.

“Eee. Sorry boys, see you in potions!” I follow his lead, leaving both of them confused.

We get to the end of the hallway and Draco turns to the left. “Uh-OH! You sure that's the way Dray?” I shout in his direction as I turn right.

He u-turns in the middle of the corridor and sprints after me. “You just got so lucky!”

“You've been in this school for how many years now?” I tease him, approaching the Astronomy Tower stairs.

“You cheeky git.” he cackles as I turn around to stick my tongue out.

Our breathless laughter echoes through the circled staircase, wrapping me in a blanket of joy. This is a moment that’ll get stored, not in my mind, but deep in my heart. I try my best to run through the pain forming in my thighs but Draco soon catches up to me. We get to the top of the stairs and I let my back fall into the wall. “Oh my goodness, I’m never running again in my life.”

Draco places one hand on the wall to steady himself and the other on his face, squeezing at his cheeks. “AAA HA HA!” he shouts, his voice husky from the rush “Stop laughing, my face hurts.” In that moment, he is a vision to behold. His broad chest rising and falling heavily as he catches his breath. His robe hanging off his shoulders, pulling back his shirt and the gaps between the buttons revealing flashes of his bare skin. The afternoon sun, golden over his face.

I snap back into reality as Hermione calls our names sternly from the classroom door.

“Coming.” I answer her and turn back to Draco who gives her a nod. “All that and we’re still late!”

“Still, not bad for your tiny, little legs.” he smiles down at me and shifts a strand of hair from my face.

“Pretty bad for your long legs though.” I let out a silly giggle. “I can’t believe I actually won.”

He frowns. “Pfft, you got lucky and it’s a draw.”

“Nope, I win!” I wink. He tries to protest but I press my finger to his lips, “Shhh.” as I step backwards into the classroom.

Hope you liked this, I loved writing it.

If you want more here is the masterlist!

#mine #draco malfoy #draco x reader #library love #slow burn #Harry potter #Tom felton #hes so handsome #i love him #secretly a soft boy #draco fanfic #draco imagine #the malfoys

194 notes · View notes

gimmesumsuga · 5 years ago

Text

Sweeter than Sweet (88)

AO3 Link

Pairings: Jimin x reader, Yoongi x reader, Jimin x Yoongi, Namjoon x reader, Taehyung x reader, Jungkook x reader, Jin x reader, Hoseok x reader.

Warnings: Nil of note

Word count: 9.3k

Previous / Epilogue

So. The final chapter. It’s finally here. It’s been a long time coming and honestly, it’s been so nerve-wracking writing this and hoping that people will like it and GOD I HOPE YOU’RE OK WITH THIS ENDING. After two and a half years, trying to find a way to tie this all together has been... quite the task. But anyway, enough rambling from me.

There’ll be an epilogue after this - just a short one - so we don’t have to say goodbye quite yet but... yeah. I hope you enjoy.

“Whatcha making, hyungie? ” To your right, Jimin’s eyes remain fixed on his phone as he calls out to the elder vampire pottering to and fro between the kitchen counters and the stove. With one of Jimin’s thumbs caressing the side of your knee and his other scrolling through whatever Korean article he happens to be reading, you’re surprised Yoongi even realises his young lover is addressing him, so casual is his tone.

“ Kimchi-jjigae ,” Yoongi murmurs in reply as his knife rhythmically thunks against the chopping board, and to your left you hear Hoseok longingly sigh at the mention of food.

You can empathise with the feeling that spurred him to make such a sound. You’ve been a vampire for less than a month and already you’ve started to miss the taste of real food, unable to imagine what it must be like for those around you for whom it's been so much longer. It’s all too easy to understand why they sometimes give in and indulge despite the inevitable gastric upset that it brings. You’d done the very same just last week, unable to resist sneaking a slice of Jin’s vanilla bean cheesecake only to lament its vengeful return back up your oesophagus just a few minutes later - an experience unpleasant enough to sufficiently silence any cravings you might’ve had since; the smell of broth wafting over to you now no more tempting than that of cut grass or fragrant shampoo.

And anyway, it’s not as though Yoongi is cooking with the intention of the meal he’s making actually being eaten. He’s cooking because it gives his restless hands something to do - a task on which to concentrate and thereby silence the anxious thoughts that would otherwise occupy his mind - and Yoongi isn’t alone in his attempt to keep pre-occupied.

One by one you’d gathered together in the kitchen as the day had drawn into night, some having woken early and some having not yet slept at all. Namjoon’s imminent arrival has everyone on edge, and rather than remain in bed tossing and turning to and fro, all seven of you had ended up gravitating towards one another instead, seeking the reassurance found in numbers.

Jin had already been here, in the kitchen, when you, Jimin and Yoongi had arrived here together, his brows furrowed in concentration as he furiously tapped away at the keys of his laptop - yelling when he’d lost at whichever game had him so engrossed. Alarmed, Nova has been giving him a wide berth every since, hiding under the legs of the furthest possible bench and glaring reproachfully each and every time Jin dares make a sound.

It was Jungkook and Taehyung who had joined you next, and they continue to occupy one another now, some hours later; Jungkook with his sketchpad in hand and tongue poking against the inside of his cheek as he tries to capture Taehyung’s likeness from where he sits posed across the other side of the table, a sleeping Yeontan in his arms.

Hoseok arrived last of all, completing the set He's been strangely quiet ever since he joined you, yet still seems to have trouble keeping his limbs from wanting to dance as he watches various choreography videos on his phone, volume turned down low. It seems as though even in times of stress he’s unable to keep that innate sense of rhythm he’s blessed with at bay.

You can’t help but note the subtle sense of guilt that settles in your stomach as you observe them all. If it weren’t for you and your wanting to do this, Jin’s eyes might not be marred by such dark circles, nor Yoongi’s thumb-nail so thoroughly well-chewed as he stands gnawing on it in front of the stove. Jimin’s knee wouldn’t be bobbing up and down so restlessly, the two youngest might still be in bed, sleeping in as late they usually do, and Hoseok…. Well, there are a lot of things that might be different for Hoseok if it weren’t for your arrival into their lives, but the less you dwell on that the better, you suppose.

“Princess?” As if somehow sensing your need for distraction, Yoongi’s voice calls out to you. “Fetch me the pork belly from the fridge?”

“Sure,” you agree quickly, flashing Jimin a smile as he’s forced to relinquish his grip on your bracelet so that you’re able to move. He smiles back having ceased his fiddling, though you can’t help but worry it looks a little strained, very aware of the soft sigh he releases as you make your way over to the refrigerator as instructed. Inside, on the bottom shelf in a large glass bowl, is the meat Yoongi had left to marinate in there some half an hour or so earlier, and as he takes it from your hands and pulls back the covering film, the scent of rice wine is so pungent it almost makes you cough.

“Thank you,” he wishes you softly, brushing a kiss to your temple as he passes on his way to the stove where he tips the pork into an awaiting pot, fat sizzling as it meets the heat.

“Do you need anything else?” Wanting to make yourself as useful as possible, you hover at his side as he resumes his place at the chopping board, slicing through mushrooms.

“I’m almost done,” he assures, not taking his eyes away from the task at hand, “But thank you,” he says again, the corners of his lips curling into the smallest of smiles as he briefly glances your way.

Dismissed, you wander back towards the group in hopes of finding further diversion. You don’t dare disturb Jin - the last time you did he looked as though he might throw his laptop at you for having interrupted whatever kill-streak he was in the middle of. Glancing up from where you’d been absent-mindedly watching Jin’s pink-haired avatar run across the screen, your eyes meet Jungkook’s, a smile tugging at your lips when he beckons you over.

“What do you think, noona ?” he asks as you come to peer over his shoulder at his sketchbook. He holds it at just enough of an angle to keep his drawings hidden from Taehyung’s view as the blonde-haired vampire squirms from side to side to try and take a peek.

“He hasn’t given me boobs again, has he?” Taehyung pouts, and whilst you try to stifle a laugh a wicked grin appears on Jungkook’s face. His muse groans, slumping forward till his head rests on the dining table and his torso hides Yeontan completely from view.

“No, Tae, he hasn’t given you boobs,” you reassure, smiling just as hard as Jungkook at the thought of it, “Though, I’d really like to get a look at that sometime.”

“ Jagi! ” Taehyung whines all the more, sitting up straight to hit you full-force with the adorable full pout of his lips and wide-openness of his eyes.

"I’m only playing,” you grin whilst still sneaking in a side-glance to Jungkook that tells him you’re really anything but. “It’s really good, baby,” you say, running your fingers absently through the ever-lengthening tresses of Jungkook’s hair to feel him preen at both your praise and his pet-name. “Looks just like you, Tae.”

And honestly, it does. Even if he were to bestow Taehyung with some additional assets , the likeness would still be uncanny. Jungkook has captured both him and Yeontan perfectly; from the delicateness of Taehyung’s long fingers carding through his playmate’s fur to the softness of his expression as he gazes down at the perfectly shaded puppy curled up in his lap.

“You’re sure?” Taehyung checks, doubt seeping into his tone as he watches the way the youngest vampire curls his arm around your waist and coaxes you down to sit on his knee, adoration in his eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time you and Jungkook have been partners in crime when it comes to playing pranks, so you can’t blame him for being suspicious, but when Jungkook finally relents and flashes the drawing Taehyung’s way, you can’t help but smile at the genuine delight you see written across the blonde vampire’s face.

“Can I keep it when you’re done, gguk?” he asks, that boxy grin of his making an appearance when Jungkook swiftly nods, putting pencil to paper to continue shading the strong angle of Taehyung’s jaw. You smile fondly at them both, placing an arm across Jungkook’s shoulder to keep yourself steady when Hoseok suddenly lets out a disgruntled sound from beside you. Nose wrinkled, he’s busy shoving Jimin back up off of his lap from where the younger vampire has flopped down in hopes of using his hyung’s thighs as a pillow. Jimin’s grinning, his whole body going purposefully limp as Hoseok struggles to sit such a dead weight back up again (pun intended) and it only makes you smile more to see it, laughing when Hoseok finally gives up with a loud ‘yah!’ of frustration as Jimin’s head falls back into his lap.

For someone who so freely lavishes affection on others, it never fails to amuse you just how unwilling Hoseok can sometimes be to being on the receiving end of it.

“Hey Kookie?” You press a kiss to his temple to gain his attention. “Can you do me next?” He looks up at you, one eyebrow raised and a dirty smirk twisting his mouth.

“You want me to do you, noona ?” A light smack to his shoulder has him laughing, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I meant draw me, you perv.”

“Like one of my french girls?” he persists, smiling all the more lewdly when Yoongi starts to chuckle along like some dirty old man from where he’s stood stirring the contents of the pot now bubbling away on the stove.

“Have you even seen Titanic, Jungkook?” you laugh, just about to reach down and tweak one of his nipples through his shirt as punishment when Jin suddenly throws his arms wide and exclaims, “I’m flying, Jack!” and sends the whole room into peals of laughter.

And that’s it, then. Once Jimin sits up and starts to belt out a somewhat pitchy rendition of ‘My Heart Will Go On’, any remaining tension left in the room is well and truly broken. Jin joins in, Taehyung does too, and then Jungkook, Hoseok, Yoongi - or at least, he tries, bless him - until finally even you’re singing your lungs out with tears of laughter leaking from the corners of your eyes.

And as sappy as it sounds, it almost does feel as though you’re flying as you’re sat here amongst them - heart soaring whilst you’re surrounded by these silly, wonderful men that you love so very much.

The seven of you are singing so loud that if it weren’t for the exceptional hearing you’ve so recently been blessed with, you might not have heard the resounding knock that suddenly echoes through the manor. You do, though - all of you do - and as another knock comes, somehow even louder than the last, the whole room falls silent, bodies tensing and eyes wide in time for the third and final knock to sound.

“He’s here.”

Eyes narrow and breaths are held. Your gaze meets Jimin's as he sits up straight, on high alert, and there's an emotion written on his face that you can't quite put a name to right now. Not whilst you're so preoccupied with how strange the absence of a furiously beating heart feels. All the same feelings Namjoon usually inspires in you are still there; your body just lacks the means to properly express them, now that you're dead.

There's no clammy hands. No quickening of breath. It's disconcerting and yet reassuring all at once, reminding you of just how different of a person - how different a creature - you are since you and Namjoon last met. Now, even if he wanted to hurt you (though, you're sincerely hoping he doesn't) you doubt he'd be able to.

You're a lot more than just the 'family pet' these days, that's for certain.

You stand from your seat on Jungkook's lap quicker than you realise, body moving before your mind has the chance to catch up. You're nervous - undoubtedly so - but part of you is just eager to finally go and lay to rest all the history between you. To settle things once and for all. That eagerness gives you the courage to straighten your spine and square your shoulders; a tentative smile on your face as you turn to the others.

Before you have the chance to speak, however, Jin promptly snapping his laptop shut mid-game completely derails whatever it was you were just about to say.

"What're you doing?" you ask as almost perfectly in sync, the vampires around you abandon their various pastimes to join you on your feet, beautifully poised for action.

"We could never let you do this on your own, jagi. " Taehyung's impossibly long fingers slip between your own, squeezing your hand in his as Jimin comes to your side and claims the other - stoic and silent as his gaze meets yours. The weight of his hand in yours feels like an anchor; solid and grounding. It's comforting - just as comforting as the sweet kiss Taehyung brushes across your knuckles before placing your hand into Yoongi's waiting, open palm.

"You can always change your mind," Yoongi reminds you, searching your gaze for any sign that you may want to turn back. You appreciate the offer, and you're sure that deep down, some of them may wish that you would, but it's too late now. You need to see this through.

"No. I'm sure," you reply with as much confidence as you can muster, and out of the corner of your eye you see Hoseok nod to himself with a look of grim determination.

"OK," Jimin says in that sweet, melodic voice of his, "Then let's go."

The short journey from the kitchen to the entrance hall has never felt longer than it does now, with a heart so full of trepidation. You can only recall one other occasion where you felt such dread whilst taking these same steps; back when rather than walking side by side with your lovers you had run towards them instead, drawn by the sounds of Jimin’s frantic cries. It’s a memory that enters unbidden into your mind, pulled to the surface by Namjoon’s arrival, and you squeeze Yoongi’s hand as you attempt to push away the image of his delicate body cradled limp and bloody in Jimin’s arms. It’s not something you want to think about when you’re about to come face to face with the man responsible for having made that happen - can only hope that the vampire waiting outside your front door is now very different from the one who was forced out of it the last time the two of you met within these walls.

You hesitate as the manor’s solid wooden doors come into sight, a lump in your throat as your footsteps falter. It’s not that you’re scared, per se - it’s just that you’ve never been very good with confrontation even at the best of times. You want this to go as smoothly as possible - if such an outcome is even possible at all. You just hope that -

“Allow me.” Sweeping past you in all his handsome glory, Jin approaches the front door with nary a hint of nervousness. There’s a formidable expression on his face, one that sits totally at odds with the soft, over-sized sweater he’s wearing. On his stomach, an adorable cartoon whale swims amongst fluffy sky-blue fabric - far too cute a fashion choice for someone who looks as though he's just one wrong move away from kicking serious ass.

You murmur your thanks regardless of whether Jin might hear you over the sound of him unbolting the front door with deft, graceful hands. Him having taken charge removes the chance for you to hesitate even more than you already have, and before you know it - before you've even had a chance to take whatever bracing breath you'd imagined you'd take before coming face to face - the door is swinging open.

The weather has gotten more mild since last you and Namjoon met. Rather than the howling wind and freezing rain that accompanied his sudden exit from your home some weeks ago, the breeze that ruffles through your hair now is by far a more pleasant one; the sun's warmth lingering despite its absence.

"Evening, hyung, " Namjoon greets in that deep voice of his, little more than the tips of his hair visible over the top of the elder vampire's head. Even with the door wide open, Jin's shoulders are so broad that even at Namjoon's greater height, he's almost entirely hidden from view. Without loosening your grip on either of the hands you hold, you find yourself rocking forward onto the balls of your feet to try and get a better look, but to no avail. Jin seems determined to shield you, one of his hands planted firmly on the door frame to block Namjoon's entrance.

"Hello, Namjoon," he replies, and though his tone may sound pleasant, there's a tightness to it that puts you on edge. "Before you come in, I just wanted to remind you-" Namjoon laughs wryly, cutting Jin off mid-sentence as he places one of his large atop his elder's shoulder and pats.

"I know, hyung, " he assures, and even without being able to see his face, you can hear the smile he’s wearing, "I'll be on my best behaviour." His hand slips down onto Jin's bicep as your protector lets his arm slowly fall back down to his side, opening up the way for Namjoon to come inside. "Promise."

Realising what it was that Jin had intended to remind him of - his promise to kill Namjoon himself should he ever dare to cause trouble again - you really hope that Namjoon is sincere about keeping his vow. You'd rather not witness any more blood spilt between these brothers; you've seen enough to last a lifetime as it is.

Jin steps back from the doorway, a furrow in his brow as Namjoon steps forward to take his place. Dressed in a burnt orange sweater that's at least a size or two too large, he looks marginally better than the last time you met - though that's hardly an achievement given how back then he'd intentionally tried to appear weak and sickly for the sake of his rouse.

"It's good to see you all." With his hands clasped together neatly in front of him, Namjoon almost looks contrite as you all stand and stare at one another, at a loss for what to say. Silent and stiff, the atmosphere is unmistakably awkward.

Perhaps you should be the one to speak first? You’re the one that asked him to come, after all, so it’s no good just standing here like the cat’s got your tongue.

Mustering up your courage, you lift your gaze from his chest and meet Namjoon’s eyes for the first time since his arrival. They’re just as golden as you remember, and as he looks back at you, you swear his gaze softens - a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Almost as if by reflex, you feel your own lips curving into shy, answering smile, and just as they’re about to part to speak -

“Thank you for coming.” They’re four words that you never would’ve expected to hear Jimin say, but you’re thankful that he has. As if him having spoken somehow grants his blessing on Namjoon’s arrival, the vampires around you seem to collectively relax; rounding of shoulders and softly exhaled sighs of breaths no longer held.

“Thank you for inviting me.” Even Namjoon looks relieved as he unclasps his hands, slotting them inside the pockets of his pants.

“I didn’t,” Jimin retorts somewhat sharply, and as you glance to the side you note the way his jaw clenches despite your gentle squeeze of his hand.

“What the lady wants, the lady gets,” Namjoon chortles in spite of Jimin’s hostility, “It’s good to know at least one thing hasn’t changed.”

Pursing your lips, you almost feel mildly affronted by Namjoon’s insinuation that you’re spoilt until you quickly realise that he likely has a point, and from the smirk Yoongi’s wearing you’d be willing to bet he silently agrees.

Well, whatever. It’s not as though you getting your own way turned out to be a bad thing where he’s concerned.

“So,” Namjoon continues, taking another step forward to finally allow Jin to close the door behind them, “For what purpose have I been summoned? I have to say I was surprised to have Taehyung go to the trouble of tracking me down.” Nervousness has you clearing your throat as your hands slip from those of the vampires beside you, not quite able to look Namjoon in the eyes as you break away from the group to approach him.

“Should we... go to the garden to talk?” you suggest, very aware of the many sets of ears and eyes focused on the two of you. You’ll never be able to say all the things you need to say with this many people listening in so intently.

“Lead the way.” With a slight nod of his head, Namjoon comes forward with intent to follow after you, but when you turn around you find you’ve nowhere to go. Jimin blocks your path, arms folded, eyes narrowed and jaw so tight that the veins on his neck are popping.

“You haven’t forgotten what you promised?” he asks, one eyebrow rising ever so slightly as he peers down the gentle slope of his nose at you.

“No…” Looking around the group, your gaze lands on Hoseok just as his falls on you. Easy-going and yet fiercely protective; sweet but firm when he needs to be. Out of all of your options, Namjoon’s successor seems the preferable one to have loitering nearby should this all turn to shit.

As if reading your mind, Hoseok half raises one hand awkwardly into the air, shuffling his weight from foot to foot.

“I could go with them if you like.” Jimin’s gaze flickers back and forth across your face to gauge your reaction to his hyung’s suggestion, and on seeing your hopeful little smile, he subtly nods his head and takes a step back, clearing your path.

“Alright. We’ll be right here, ok?” His glances over your shoulder towards Namjoon. “In case you need us.”

“I know,” you reply softly, closing the gap between you and placing on hand on his folded arms to give a squeeze for reassurance, your eyes fluttering closed for just a second as you brush your lips across his. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” declares another voice as hands find your hips and a similarly fleeting kiss skims the tender junction where your shoulder meets your neck. You know it’s Yoongi not only from his tone but the delicate pout of his lips where they press against your skin.

“Please do.” Twisting, you smile as you and Yoongi come face to face. He smiles back in return, content to let you take his hand and place it into Jimin’s until you should return. Together, they’ll keep each other strong.

“Shall we?” Namjoon’s sudden arrival at your side pulls your focus back to the matter at hand - body tensing in response to his close proximity.

“Sure.” At your nod, Hoseok turns to lead the way, walking ahead as you and Namjoon follow on behind through the rest of the group towards the corridor from whence you came.

“ Jagiya .” A tentative touch of fingertips to your wrist makes you pause, and it’s with a sweet, reassuring smile that you try to communicate to Taehyung not to worry without having to actually say the words. The concerned furrow of his brow remains, unfortunately, but when Jungkook slings his arm around his hyung’s shoulder and pulls him close, you know that they, too, will take care of one another.

They all will, as they always do.

Namjoon’s smiling somewhat wistfully as you fall back into step but remains silent. His footsteps seem so loud compared to yours as you walk the hallway together; Namjoon in shoes that are scuffed at the heel and you in a comfy pair of rubber-soled slippers.

“Hoseok was a good choice as my replacement,” he comments, lifting your gaze from where you’d been staring down at the motion of your feet. Your eyes travel the length of his imposing stature to his face - still just as handsome as the first time you met despite all that has taken place between you. He looks ahead in spite of your appraisal, his focus solely on the back of the vampire that has been filling his shoes since having left; undoing all the wrongs Namjoon had made, trying to make them right.

Hoseok chooses not to reply to Namjoon’s compliment. You know he’ll have heard it - Namjoon had said it more than loud enough.

“He’s done a really good job. Kept the guys in work and our stores well-stocked.” Namjoon ‘mms’ along, nodding his head. “Don’t know what we’d have done without him, really.”

You wish you were better able to read Namjoon’s expression but it seems as though he’s keeping his cards close to his chest, for now. Whether or not that’s intentional you’re not sure, but either way, it doesn’t keep you from wishing. Is he feeling proud of Hoseok, you wander? Resentful? Apathetic?

When you reach the double doors to the garden, Hoseok holds them open for the both of you. You expect him to follow as you begin down the fairy-light lit path that winds deeper into the night, but he hangs back instead, loitering beside the hedgerow.

“You’re not coming?” you ask, turning to see him standing there once you realise you can no longer hear his footsteps crunching along the gravel with yours.

“Unless you want me to?” he offers, cocking one eyebrow, and at first, you’re really not sure. You look to Namjoon and once again he seems unconcerned, shoulders shrugging, his hands still deep in his pockets.

“Your call. I won’t be offended, either way.” In some strange way, Namjoon’s nonchalance is somewhat reassuring. If he had any bad intentions, surely he’d be pushing for the two of you to be alone rather than leaving it all up to you?

“I think we’ll be ok,” you say, and your stomach does something a little funny at the small, grateful smile that tugs at the corners of Namjoon’s mouth.

“Ok.” Hoseok leans back against the wall of the manor, folding his arms across his chest as he fixes Namjoon with a stern look despite addressing you. “You know where I am. Just shout, and I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” you smile, and then you and Namjoon take your leave.

The garden, as always, remains tranquil despite the worry in your heart. Now that spring is on its way, the night-blooming flowers you’d planted last year are starting to thrive, releasing their sweet scent into the evening air. Ahead, you can hear the faint trickle of the fountain and beyond it, the gentle creaking of a swing in the breeze - your final destination.

In silence, you sit side by side. The swing’s slatted seat is only made for two, forcing you to cosy up far more than you’d originally planned. You’d been aware of Namjoon’s scent - far more than ever before thanks to your newly enhanced sense of smell - but now, sat so close, it’s almost overwhelming. Warmly spiced and fragrant, it-

“You’re not scared of me anymore, are you?” Namjoon’s sudden observation interrupts your runaway thoughts, and when you sharply look up from where you’d been staring at his lap, you’re surprised by the crooked smile you find him wearing. You hesitate under his scrutinising gaze, unsure of what to say, and Namjoon laughs at your lack of reply. “I mean, it would make sense.” Taking his hands out of his pockets, he uses one to hold onto the chain suspending the bench on which you sit as he begins to rock his weight back and forth - heel, toe, heel, toe, heel, toe - to gently move the swing. “You’re even stronger than I am right now.”

Is Namjoon right? Are you really not so afraid of him anymore? Taking a moment to examine how you’re feeling as the two of you quietly swing back and forth, you realise what he’s said is true. You’ve been nervous, certainly. You’re still nervous, in fact. But scared? Not so much. You know, now, that should you ever need to defend yourself you’d be more than capable of doing so. Your training sessions with Jin and Jungkook have certainly helped in that department, even without your added strength taken into account.

“I guess you’re right,” you admit and again Namjoon smiles, looking down at his feet as he exhales a short, breathy laugh. “And while we’re on the subject,” you continue, playing with the hem of your top where it lays across your lap, “Part of the reason I wanted you to come tonight was so that I could thank you… for that.” Namjoon looks up and meets your gaze, brow furrowing slightly as his feet fall still and the swing's momentum ceases. “For saving me, again. For turning me.”

He stares back at you, blinking once, twice, then thrice - like he can't quite figure out what he's meant to say.

"... They told you it was me?" he finally asks, "Can't say I expected that."

"I mean, they didn't so much tell me. More like Jin and Jungkook just blurted it right out." Namjoon laughs at your admission, fondly shaking his head. "But they didn't deny it when I confronted them, either. And don't get me wrong, it's not as though this just-" You gesture vaguely with your hands, hoping he'll gather your meaning. "-Just… Makes up for everything that happened before."

Namjoon's expression looks pained at the mere mention of his former transgressions. He twists in his seat to face you more directly, clasping his hands together.

"I know-" he begins urgently.

"But-" You interrupt his interruption, "-But I'm still grateful. You didn't have to come back here and help the others find me. Could've just stood back and watched me die rather than turn me. But you didn't." Namjoon straightens in his seat, glancing down at his feet and wringing his hands. "So yeah… thank you. Really."

Namjoon releases his hands only to rub awkwardly at the arm of his sweater; a gesture far more human than you've ever seen from him before. It's disarming - endearing, almost.

"Well… you're welcome." He meets your gaze, smiling cautiously.

You get the feeling that this is one of the last things Namjoon had expected when Taehyung had invited them here, and if you're honest, you find it somewhat strangely satisfying to catch him so off guard. You examine his face; the earnestness in his golden eyes and the shallow dimples of his cheeks - smile not quite broad enough yet to bring them out in full force. He looks well - better than you expected him to - and he scoffs a laugh when you tell him so.

"I've looked better," he dismisses, leaning back into the swing's seat to restart it's slow back and forth motion.

"Well, I can't imagine you've had it easy these past few weeks…" You shift in your seat, eyes cast down to watch your fingers busily playing with your bracelet. "Where've you been staying, anyway?" Just as you look up, Namjoon looks away, scratching distractedly at the side of his face.

"Here and there," he answers, and you wonder if the evasiveness of his reply means he's been sleeping rough more often than not. You hope that's not the case, despite all the bad things he's done.

"Fair enough," you say when he offers no further explanation. "To be honest, I was surprised Tae even managed to find you. I'd kind of expected you to have moved on already." Namjoon looks at you, thoughtful.

"I thought about leaving. Finding a new place, a new life."

"Why didn't you?" He pauses, smiling faintly before offering an answer.

"I guess there was just something still holding me back," he says, and as self-absorbed as it might be, your mind can't help but jump to the conclusion that that means his reason for staying was you . Whether you're happy or concerned about that, you can't quite figure out. "I've had… A lot of time to think since I left." Namjoon opens up his hands as he speaks and stares down at the lines etched in his palms. "A lot of time alone. Done a lot of self-reflection."

He pauses but you remain silent, realising that he probably has a lot more to say. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear the sound of a small animal darting through the undergrowth, its little feet scurrying between the bushes under the cover of darkness.

"You were right about what you said." Your head whips round to face Namjoon when he finally speaks again, eyebrows rising in curiosity. "Before, when you said that I didn't love you, you were right." He looks up at you, a deep furrow between his brows. "At least, not in the way I should have done. The way I treated you was… despicable. The things I did? Unforgivable."

For a moment, Namjoon seems to forget himself - moves as if to reach out and take your hands but stops himself at the last moment and keeps them clenched in his lap, instead.

"I never meant for it to go so far or to get so bad, but once I had that first taste of you… I… I just couldn’t stop," he explains, and now that he's opening it up it seems as though the words are tumbling over one another in their haste to come out. "I was so certain I was beyond saving. Beyond capable of being loved even if I were deserving of it…" Namjoon's expression turns into one of pain, a sadness in his eyes as he looks back at you with the golden glow of fairy lights illuminating his face. The sight puts pain in your chest; an ache where your beating heart used to be. “But then you came and I thought… maybe…”

“There were already people here willing to love you, Namjoon,” you interject, shuffling closer, “Long before I ever arrived.” He smiles ruefully.

“I realise that, now, but I took too long. The damage is already done.” Namjoon shrugs his shoulders in defeat, still wearing that same sad smile as he leans forward to rest his forearms on his thighs, rubbing his palms together.

You wish you knew what to say - wish you could offer him some comfort regardless of his worthiness of it - but you find yourself at a loss for words. You can’t pretend as though his former relationships aren’t as in poor shape as he says. If he were to try to make amends, it would certainly be a long and difficult road - for all of them, not just Namjoon.

“Back when I came to the bar to warn you, you asked me what I wanted,” he says suddenly, hair ruffling in the breeze as he turns his head to look up at you, “Do you remember?” You recall the memory easily enough - there had only been that one occasion Namjoon had ever visited you at your workplace, invited or otherwise.

“I haven’t come to start a fight.”

“Then what do you want?”

“The same thing I’ve always wanted.” Is it vanity that makes you presume that he means you when he says that?

“You said what you wanted the same thing you always do,” you recall aloud, embarrassment making you drop your gaze as you admit, “To be honest, I assumed you meant me.” You hear Namjoon softly chuckle, and then suddenly he’s touching you - lifting your chin with the curl of his index finger to bring your gaze back to his. It doesn’t startle you as much as you’d anticipated it would; doesn’t inspire the fear you’d expected should his hands ever lay on you again.

“A reasonable assumption,” he smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners until his expression becomes sombre once more. Sighing, he lets his hand fall, linking his hands together where they dangle off the end of his lap. “But what I really meant was… family. First, I lost my sister, then my parents. My friends - my brothers . You.” He falls silent again for a moment, shaking his head as it drops forward, obscuring his face from your view.

“Namjoo-”

“I’ve lost everyone.” Namjoon sits up abruptly, and when he turns his face your way you swear you see a glassiness to his eyes. “And all through my own fault.”

Looking back at him now, you realise Namjoon really was right - you’re not afraid of him at all anymore. If anything, you feel sorry for him. No one deserves to spend an entire eternity alone, whether or not their exile was somewhat… self-inflicted. Maybe… maybe if...

He shifts in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable under the intensity of your gaze.

“I don’t expect you to say anything,” he says when the silence has gone on too long, “I know I don’t deserve-”

“I can’t speak for the others-” You stop him mid-sentence, and Namjoon settles back down into his seat having almost stood up to leave, his expression one of cautious curiosity. “-But I’d like to believe no one is ever totally beyond redemption.”

Redemption. The word is like kindling to the fragile ember of hope that flickers in Namjoon’s eyes at the mere mention of it.

“I still want to think that somewhere inside you, deep down, is the Namjoon who cared for his sister so much that he did everything he could to save her. Who offered his brothers immortality rather than face losing them, too.” You smile meekly. “Who saved me, knowing that to do so he would be putting his own life at risk.”

Namjoon’s eyes search yours, though you’re not certain what it is he’s looking for. The trace of a lie, maybe? That you’re just humouring him out of pity? Giving him false hope? You hope he knows you better than to think you’re the sort of person that would.

Finally, after what feels like minutes have gone by, he sighs.

“I want to believe you.” There’s a raw, vulnerable edge to his voice when he speaks, twisting his body to better face you. “I want… to be better. I want to… to be a man who’s deserving of your love, even if… even if I never have it.”

“Namjoon…”

It’s instinctive, the way you reach out - the way you gently place your hand on his cheek. Namjoon leans into it, eyes closing for just a moment, and you just can’t help it, how your heart bleeds for him. You should be less affected - should feel colder and more apathetic towards this man who betrayed you so badly - but you just… can’t. There are many unflattering things people could call you, many faults that they could name, but they could never accuse you of being cold or unfeeling. It’s just not in your nature. Perhaps some might say that’s a fault in itself, but here you are regardless.

You wish, in another life - one where less mistakes were made and fewer hearts were broken - that you were able to hold him. Promise to give Namjoon all the love he so sorely needs to be so that maybe, one day, he might be able to heal.

But there’s too much water under the bridge. Even if Namjoon were one day to come back into all of your lives, it could never be the way it was before. You can’t be that person for him anymore. It’s time for you to both move on, once and for all.

“Joonie,” you say again, ever so softly, and when he opens his eyes it makes your chest hurt all the more to see how desperately hopeful he looks. “I can forgive you for what you did. I need to, for both our sakes.” Namjoon smiles, lifting his hand to place it over yours where it lingers on his cheek, but when you start to pull away his expression falters, brow creasing in confusion. “But I can’t just forget it. Not yet.”

You hope the implication that maybe one day that might change helps to soften the blow as you fold your hands together in your lap, offering him a sympathetic smile that at first, he turns away from. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath as though to collect himself, and you find yourself on edge, wondering if your rejection will be taken as badly as it was once before.

“I understand.” Turns out, you needn’t of worried. Namjoon looks sad, certainly, but there’s a resignedness about him that you find reassuring - especially when he huffs a laugh and admits, “I’d probably think you were a fool if you’d said differently.” You laugh as well, knowing he’s right, and it feels as though a weight has been lifted as you sit up straight and run both hands through your hair, breathing out a sigh.

“Can I be honest with you?” Namjoon asks and instantly you nod, giving him your full attention. “For the first time in almost thirty years… I have no idea what to do. I wasn’t happy before, but at least looking after the others kept me busy. Now there’s just… nothing.” He licks his lips, wetting them. “It’s freeing, but it’s also really fucking terrifying.”

“I get that.” And you do. Without the others to keep you company, you’re not sure what on earth you’d do to pass the time for the rest of all eternity. “I know it’s pretty vague advice, but personally? I’d really like to see you start living again. Find something good , something for you to pour all that passion into.” You smile as you playfully knock your thigh against his, pleased when Namjoon does the same back. “You’ve got too bright a mind to dwell on such dark thoughts all the time, Joon.”

“I’m not sure where I’d even start… But something good sounds…” He shrugs his shoulders, offering you a lopsided grin. “... good, I guess.”

“And there’s something else I wanted to speak to you about, as well.” You call out loudly to summon Hosoek, and within seconds he comes running towards you, eyes wild and fists already raised in preparation to fight. “Hobi, it’s ok,” you reassure quickly as Namjoon puts hands up in surrender - a gesture that for some reason has you holding back the urge to giggle. Hesitantly, Hoseok lets his arms fall back to his sides and relaxes his posture, all the while his gaze flitting between you and Namjoon as though to doubly make sure that everything is as ok as you say it is.

“Everything alright?”

“Do you remember that talk we had yesterday? About my old apartment?” Eyebrows furrowing slightly, he nods. “Turns out, Jimin never stopped paying the lease, just in case I ever changed my mind and wanted to leave,” you explain, turning to Namjoon, and it makes you smile to see the way his eyes start to widen as it dawns on him what you’re about to offer. “It’s yours, if you want it, and so is your share of the manor's wealth.” Namjoon’s head turns to look at Hoseok, incredulous. “Hobi and I have already spoken about it. It’s only fair."

"You don't have to do this," Namjoon says quickly, eyes flitting rapidly back and forth between you and Hoseok. "Really. I'll be fine."

"We know we don't have to," Hoseok smiles, folding his arms across his chest.

"But we want to," you correct, pleased when Hoseok nods his agreement. "You saved my life, now we're giving you an opportunity to turn things around and save yours. We can call it even."

"I'm not sure that's right." Despite his disagreement with your sentiment Namjoon can't seem to help but smile. "I think I still owe you rather a lot more than you do me."

"Most likely," you grin in return. Standing, you reach down into your back pocket to retrieve the keys you'd stashed away earlier; a silver pair that jingle against the penguin engraved disc of your keyring as they're dropped into Namjoon's open, waiting hand. "Just to warn you, there'll be an awful lot of plushies waiting for you. You might want to redecorate."

"I'm sure it'll all be very… you," Namjoon laughs, joining you on your feet. Falling silent, he looks down at the keys in his hand and you see his shoulders move with the weight of the breath he takes. "Thank you." He looks so sincere as he meets your gaze again, closing his fist and then pressing it to his chest as his other hand reaches for yours. He squeezes when you grant it to him, smiling once more as you squeeze back just as tight.

"We should probably head back inside," you say after a beat or two have passed - sufficient enough time to memorise the feel of Namjoon's hand wrapped around yours. "The others are probably going out of their minds by now."

"Are you kidding?" Hoseok laughs as he falls into step with you as the three of you head back towards the house, "I can hear Jimin's teeth grinding from here."

You re-enter the house together, a seed of hope taking root in your heart at the amenable way Namjoon and Hoseok are able to converse back and forth, almost as if the last few weeks had never happened.

"Once you're settled, I'll call you to discuss the finer details, and when-" You're distracted from their talk of practicalities by Nova’s sudden high-pitched meowing, and on looking to your right you see her coming towards you down the hall with her sleek black tail swaying gently behind her as she walks, her intelligent eyes glinting as they catch the light.

“Hi Nova,” you greet, stopping the other vampires in their tracks when they hear you speak. Meowing again, she winds her way between your ankles as you smile down at her, brushing against your legs with each turn of her limber body until finally, you bend to pick her up, scooping her into your arms. Namjoon approaches her with a fond smile, waiting for you to nod before reaching out to give her the fussing she truly desires, and you laugh at the sheer volume of her purrs as she rubs the side of her face against every part of him she can reach, nibbling at the tips of his outstretched fingers.

“I think she’s missed you,” you comment and Namjoon chuckles, giving a firm scratch to the underside of her chin.

“The feelings mutual,” he purrs back at her, lavishing her in affection for just a few moments longer before finally dragging himself away - fingers restless at his sides you make your way back to the entrance hall, as though he almost wishes they were still in amongst her fur.

The others seem to barely have moved since you left them. They linger at the bottom of the staircase, chatting amongst themselves, but when Yeontan barks at having spotted Nova from across the room, silence abruptly falls.

“Is everything ok?” Urgently, Jimin comes toward you with hands outstretched, laying both on your shoulders to keep you at arm’s length while he surveys your wellbeing, a furrow in his brow.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you reassure softly, offering him a small smile as he meets your eyes, searching them for confirmation. “Really. We’re fine.” He nods, still looking somewhat uncertain, yet he releases you nonetheless, stepping back so that Namjoon is able to step forward and address the group.

It’s sad how suspiciously they regard him, though you completely understand why they do. You’re sure Namjoon understands, too, and to his credit, he appears to be doing his best to ignore the stony silence he’s met with - or at least not let it bother him.

“I know it’ll never be enough to make up for all the things I’ve done,” he begins, gesticulating restlessly with his hands as he talks, “But… nonetheless, I wanted to say I’m sorry. To all of you. For everything.” Shuffling their feet, the group as a whole looks unsure of how to respond to Namjoon’s apology. Taehyung’s focusing all his attention on Yeontan whilst Jungkook avoids eye contact altogether; Jimin’s stony faced whilst Jin’s is impossible to read. It’s only Yoongi who meets Namjoon eye for eye and nods his head in acknowledgement. Yoongi, who almost died at the younger vampire’s hands, and yet has remained kind enough - soft-hearted enough - to at least hear his apology out.

Namjoon’s smiles gratefully, bobbing his head in return, and when Yoongi glances your way you mouth a ‘thank you’ that the dark-haired vampire shrugs his shoulders to, feigning nonchalance.

“I should go,” Namjoon declares when no one volunteers any further reply, recognising that at least for now, reconciliation remains a lost cause. You follow after him as he heads towards the door, Nova still cradled in your arms, and as he reaches for the handle you quickly call out,

“Don’t be a stranger, ok?” He pauses, twisting to look back at you and the vampires stood at your rear. “I mean… it’ll take time for things to get better but…” You glance at the others around you before looking back to Namjoon, smiling kindly, “That’s something we’ve all got plenty of.” Namjoon chuckles fondly and in the small of your back you feel a hand being placed, rubbing gently up and down.

“That we have, little one,” he smiles, and even after all this time - all that’s happened - that nickname still stirs something within you. It’s not lust, and it’s certainly not love, but a feeling of… nostalgia, almost.

With one final parting look, Namjoon turns to leave, pulling open the heavy front doors and stepping out into the night. Before he can disappear into the dark, however, Nova begins to squirm restlessly in your arms, letting out a loud series of meows more akin to wails.

Namjoon stops in his tracks.

Looking down, you see Nova peering up you imploringly with those green, intelligent eyes of hers, and you’re sure it’s just your imagination, but you feel almost as if she’s trying to tell you something as she meows again, tail swishing.

“Joon?” You go after him, not stopping until he’s within arms reach - close enough to allow the wriggling Nova to gracefully leap out of your grasp and into the embrace of a very startled Namjoon.

“W-what-?” he stammers as he hastily rearranges his arms to accommodate the feline form curling up against his chest. The sight of him so flustered and caught off guard is so endearing that you can’t help but start to grin, pressing your lips together in an attempt to stifle the laughter bubbling up inside your lungs.

“I think the lady hath spoken,” you observe as Nova rubs her face against Namjoon’s jaw, her meows now deep, rumbling purrs of contentment. He strokes her despite his utter bewilderment, long fingers carding through her fur, and watching the two of them you know for certain that letting her go is the right idea. What better way to slowly soften Namjoon’s heart and give him purpose than for him to have something to care for all of his own? “Look after her, ok?” He looks up from the cat cradled in his arms.

“Are you sure?” he asks and when you nod, he smiles so hard that for the first time since he got here, you finally get a flash of Namjoon’s infamous dimples. “Thank you. Really,” he says earnestly, and as Namjoon wishes you goodbye, his golden eyes take one long, last lingering look up and down your form before he turns, takes his leave, and you softly close the door.

Turning the key in the lock, a heavy exhale leaves your lungs, and for a moment you stand with one hand pressed to the door and eyes closed to gather yourself. You’re so relieved that it’s impossible not to smile despite the nagging worry at the back of your mind that Jimin might be upset at you just having given away what was originally his gift to you, but just as it starts to push to the forefront and cause your smile to falter, Jimin’s voice rings soft in your ear.

“That was really kind, what you just did.” You turn in the embrace of his arms as they settle around your waist, looking up into eyes that await you.

“Really? You’re not upset?”

“No, kitten,” he assures, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours, a smile tugging at his lips, “I’m not upset. Though, you’re awfully pious for the creature of the night, you know.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.” Smiling, you circle your arms around him too and Jimin begins to sway almost as if the two of you are dancing, hips swinging side to side.

“Aside from making the rest of us look bad... of course not.” Jimin’s lips find yours in a sweet, fleeting kiss, and when he pulls away his eyes are practically glowing with affection, cheeks full and rounded with happiness. “If anything, it only makes me love you more.”

Yoongi appears at your side, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a low hum of agreement.

“What about you, oppa ?” you ask teasingly, tilting your head in order to find his lips and speak against them.

“You already know how we feel, princess.” Yoongi nips at your bottom lip when you whine, chuckling deep down low. Yes, of course you know - but that doesn’t mean you don’t like to hear it out loud. “You know we adore you,” he whispers as Jimin assaults the other side of your neck with soft, lingering kisses. “We cherish you, all of us.”

Your two lovers pull away to reveal the rest of the group watching on; fond smiles on their faces, Jin’s chest puffed up with pride beneath the arms he’s folded across them. Seeing them all there safe, happy and smiling - your family, your friends, your lovers, your everythings - it’s almost enough to bring you to tears. Never would you have thought yourself capable of being able to love someone so much, or be so blessed as to receive so much love in return.

You’re so lucky. So, so lucky.

“Careful,” you say, blinking back the sting in your eyes, “You’re going to make me cry in a minute.”

“Well we wouldn’t want that, would we, kitten?” Jimin teases, taking your hand in his and squeezing it tight as Yoongi claims your other, linking his fingers with yours. “Anyone up for some pool?”

Almost in perfect unison, your beloved vampires throw their hands up in the air - Jungkook shouting his enthusiasm with a ‘let’s get it!’ so loud that it almost makes you jump.

“Dibs not with Jin-hyungie, ” Hoseok sing-songs up ahead as you make your way towards the hall, cue indignant shrieking from the eldest of the group and laughter from the rest.

God, you love them. You love them, you love them, you love them .

“I love you,” you call out to them, unable to contain the affection that’s overflowing within you, tugging on your lover’s hands to pull them ever closer to your sides. You can’t imagine anywhere else they should ever be - anywhere else that you could ever belong.

“We love you!” Taehyung shouts back, and in his arms, Yeontan yelps his wholehearted agreement. Up ahead, Jungkook throws his arms around Jin’s shoulders to drag him down low enough to ruffle his hair as they walk, insisting,

“But I’m still her favourite, you know?”

****************************************************************************************

*deep breath*

Oh, I hope you liked it...

Please, it would mean so much to me to hear your thoughts. Whether it just be about the ending or maybe you've been a silent reader all this time, I'd so love to know what you've made of all of this. I've been writing this fic for two and a half years and finally drawing it to a close has me feeling... pretty emotional to say the least.

Stay tuned for the short epilogue that I'll hopefully be posting once I return from my vacation.

I love you guys. I really do. Thank you for all your unending support - whether you've only just found this fic or whether you've been here since the start. Love you <3

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