#it would meet some terrible fate
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everytime i see 'a rental car takes a left down rake street and disappears' i always briefly go 'damn the rental car industry is in SHAMBLES' as if everytime you tag it ANOTHER rental car disappears. Absolute menace on the car economy
please god help us we are running out of rental cars!!! where are they all going!!!
#there's a joke i thought of including where during every book nat would have a new rental car and#it would meet some terrible fate#word gets around and rental car agencies have pictures of Nat's face tapes to their wall just like.#do NOT rent to this man!!!!!!#he is a fiend he is not to be trusted#a rental car takes a left down rake street and disappears#(whoops! there goes another one)
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love potions (but make it legal)!
pairing: tutor!jungwon x reader
summary: you had not been too excited about these tutoring sessions your potions professor had dropped on you. but, after meeting your tutor you couldn’t hope but think you both were brewing more than just potions, perhaps even love?
genre: hogwarts au, jungwon is a loser for the reader, initially slightly one sided pining, fluff, angst
warnings: some hogwarts lore references, mentions of failing a class, jealousy, angst, magic stuff, kissing, suggestive(ish)
note: they don’t actually make love potions in this but i liked the sound of it so i used it in the title hehe. i hope you guys enjoy this fic as you had given so much love to the heeseung one.
word count: 4.3kish
if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3
to the anon who requested a jungwon hogwarts au im sososoo sorry for publishing this like six months later. i had a terrible writer’s block with this one. i’m terribly sorry, this constantly ran through my mind but i couldn’t bring myself to begin. i hope you like this!
you were so screwed.
you felt like a deflated balloon looking at your mock NEWT results. you were literally failing your potions class. with all the time spent in balancing out your classes, quidditch and sessions at the room of requirement as a part of dumbledore’s army, you had not practised well enough for your classes that were practical based.
seeing your grades drop from exemplary results to having mediocre grades and failing a class was depressing. so, your potions teacher had made you stay back to have a word with you which is why you stood off to the side. your head hung low in disappointment with yourself. if this continued, it would be hard to apply for an auror’s job, which was your dream.
you were broken out of your thoughts by the sound of your professor clearing his throat. your head shot up and you looked around to see the room was now empty save for you both. he gestured to the seat next to his table, so you shuffled over.
he looked over the rim of his glasses as he scanned over your report card. you hated the pitiful look that crossed over his face, you were not used to this.
“you are one of my best students, i really wasn’t expecting this from you..”
you grimaced at his words, feeling worse about your situation. great, you were not the only one disappointed by yourself.
your professor must have noticed because his tone immediately became gentle as he gave you a comforting smile.
“see, the only reason i asked you to stay back was because i know you can do better”, he shuffled through a register seemingly looking for something. “i’m sure you have your reasons as to why your performance went down. i know you can improve again.”
you nodded at his words, already starting to feel better, “yes professor i-”
“which is why i think you should get tutored”, he cut you off.
you froze. tutoring? this was so embarrassing, usually you were the one to provide tutoring to others, and now you have to be the one to receive it? no thank you.
you let out a small chuckle, “i understand professor, but i think i can handle it by myself.”
his brows creased at your words, “i don’t think you have enough time for that, the exams are nearing and you have managed to mess up even the basic things in the exam.”
you sighed at his words, silently accepting your fate because he wasn’t wrong. maybe you should swallow your ego and just get tutored, it was for your own good anyway.
taking a deep breath you put on a fake smile and gritted out, “okay.”
the rush of your mary jane clad feet filled the hallways of hogwarts with clopping sounds. your feet skidded to a stop in front of the library doors and you placed your hand over your chest, trying to catch your breath from the ten minute long run. you were late for your first tutoring session because your evening nap went a little longer than expected.
brushing out stray hair strands from your face you opened the doors and stepped in, looking around for your tutor. the only person other than you was a boy with raven hair, sitting on a bench completely surrounded by bookshelves.
you approached him, assuming he was your tutor.
“uh hey!”, you called out in an unsure manner. “are you my assigned tutor for po-”
“yes”, he cut you off curtly, not even bothering to spare you a glance. “take a seat.”
you frowned in confusion at his cold behaviour and pulled out a chair to sit next to him. he seemed to be shuffling through some papers and organising them. a few seconds went by with him failing to acknowledge your presence. you cleared your throat awkwardly and introduced yourself, trying to get his attention.
his head immediately shot up as soon as he heard your name, his eyes widening in what you could tell was surprise. confused at his reaction, you just gave him a small smile. he was silent for a while, giving you enough time to take in his features.
bangs fell over the smooth skin of his forehead and he looked at you through glasses which fit perfectly on his face, adding on to his handsome features. you had seen him around a few times as you shared a few classes with him. he was one of the smartest students, loved by all his teachers.
“uh i’m jungwon”, his voice broke through the awkward silence.
you nodded, “hey. i’ve seen you around.”
his lips pulled up into a smile at that as he let out a small laugh nervously. you raised your eyebrows at his sudden shift in demeanour. just a moment ago he didn’t care about your presence and now he was smiling? whatever.
“professor told me you had been facing some problems with potions”, he looked down and tapped his quill on the table. “what can i help you with?”
you explained how you messed up the practical test for your mocks. he listened intently, never breaking eye contact with you which made you a bit nervous.
you came to an end of your rant but jungwon still maintained eye contact with you, his chin resting on his hand now.
you cleared your throat, “so..?”
he still seemed to be staring at you, his eyes out of focus as he dreamily smiled at you.
frowning at his odd behaviour, you waved your hand in front of his face which broke him out of his thoughts. his eyes widened momentarily as he shook his head, a small blush spreading across his cheeks.
“are you sick?”
he chuckled nervously, “no no i was just planning out how i could help you”
he picked up a quill and started writing a plan for you in neat handwriting. once he was done, he passed the sheet over to you.
“we’ll follow this for the next two weeks. meet me in the potions class at four tomorrow.”
you gave a once over at what he had written and smiled at him. “will do, thanks jungwon!”
he nodded and started packing up his things. when he was done he looked at you expectantly, “it’s time for dinner, let’s go to the great hall together.”
you smiled and gathered your things as well.
it was the first day of your tutoring and you were early today.
or you thought so.
glancing around the potions classroom, you spotted jungwon already there. he was perched on a stool, arranging vials and flasks on the tables. unlike his usual composed demeanour in class, he seemed flustered, his bangs falling over his forehead as he fumbled with a particularly stubborn stopper.
he looked up as he heard you shuffle in, a relieved smile splitting his face.
"ah, there you are! i was starting to think you'd gotten lost."
"lost?" you repeated, a laugh escaping your lips. "in the potions classroom? hardly."
he chuckled, a nervous undertone to it. "right, of course. so, are you ready to tackle some invisibility potion today?"
you straightened your robes, a determined glint in your eyes. "ready as i'll ever be. though," you added, an unsure lilt in your voice, "considering my track record, maybe 'invisible' isn't the best thing to start off with."
jungwon's hummed, his cheeks flushing. "well, that's why we're practising, isn't it? to avoid another...disappearing act?"
you snorted. "exactly. though, to be fair, the professor did say my failed polyjuice potion was rather impressive in its...uniqueness."
he winced. "right. let's just focus on not achieving sentience with our cauldron this time, alright?"
the rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of chopping netslime and muttering incantations. jungwon was a patient tutor, though his explanations sometimes devolved into nervous rambling when your eyes met.
by the end of the session, your potion shimmered a faint, almost-invisible blue. not perfect, but a far cry from your previous disasters. jungwon beamed, his earlier awkwardness replaced by genuine pride.
"see? you're a natural! with a little more practice, you'll be brewing like snape in no time."
you laughed. "snape? now that's a terrifying image."
he chuckled, then cleared his throat, his gaze flickering away. "well, i should probably get going. i have herbology first thing tomorrow."
you nodded, gathering your things. "alright, see you then. and jungwon?"
he stopped at the door, his eyes questioning.
"thanks a lot for doing this. i already feel more confident.”
he smiled at that, making you do the same unconsciously.
the next two weeks flew by in a flurry of potion-making and stolen glances in your sessions, and outside of it whenever you both crossed paths. you had made a new friend and you were grateful for his help. you found yourself approaching the cauldron with newfound determination. your brews were improving steadily, and the playful banter during your sessions only added to the enjoyment.
one particularly chilly evening, you hurried down to the room of requirement, the usual meeting place for your secret DA practice sessions. you entered to find the familiar sight of your fellow students practising disarming spells and dodging jinxes. but amidst the chaos, you spotted an unexpected face – jungwon.
he was facing away from you, expertly deflecting a curse with a flick of his wand. you blinked, momentarily speechless. you never knew jungwon was a part of this! a warmth bloomed in your chest, a mixture of surprise and a strange sense of pride.
"nice one, jungwon!" , you called out, a wide grin on your face. jungwon turned, his eyes meeting yours. a flicker of surprise crossed his features before he broke into a wide grin.
"hey there," he said casually, striding over to you. "didn't expect to see you here."
"me neither," you admitted, a smile playing on your lips. "i guess you're not just a potions prodigy, huh?"
he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "turns out i have a few other hidden talents."
the rest of the evening flew by in a whirlwind of practice. seeing jungwon in this new light – confident, skilled, and fighting for a cause you both believed in – made your heart flutter. he was everything you admired and more.
admire? since when did that happen?
shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you got back to practising your charm. although, over the duration of the practise, your mind couldn’t help but wander towards jungwon’s recent behaviour. he had been sweet to you since the beginning, always ready to help out. and the way he blushed around you and quipped with you, you couldn’t help but think that maybe he also felt something?
as the group started dispersing, you lingered near the room's entrance, feigning the need to adjust your cloak.
"hey," jungwon's voice startled you. he was packing his bag, a casual smile playing on his lips. "didn't head out yet?"
"actually," you began, fiddling with the strap of your bag, "there was something i wanted to ask you about."
his smile widened in invitation. "shoot."
you took a deep breath. "it's about dumbledore's army. we've been working on patronus charms lately, and well, i'm struggling a bit." shame tinged your cheeks. you weren't used to needing help with spells.
jungwon's expression softened with understanding. "a patronus charm, huh? tricky business, that. but hey, i might be able to offer some pointers."
relief washed over you. "really? that would be amazing!"
he gestured towards a secluded corner of the room. "come on, then. let's see what you're working with."
you settled onto the dusty floor, explaining your struggles. you could conjure a faint wisp of silvery light, but it was far from the actual form you needed. jungwon listened intently, occasionally asking clarifying questions.
"okay," he said once you finished, "it seems you've got the basic idea down. the key is focusing on a strong, happy memory. something that evokes a feeling of pure joy and warmth."
he saw your hesitant expression and chuckled. "don't worry, it's not a competition to see who has the most embarrassing childhood memory."
you forced a smile. "no, of course not." but your mind struggled to find that perfect memory.
jungwon seemed to sense your frustration. "close your eyes," he instructed gently.
"take a deep breath and try to visualise a place that makes you feel truly happy. maybe a familiar place from your childhood, a special time with a friend, anything that brings a smile to your face."
you closed your eyes, following his guidance. images flickered through your mind – family picnics, winning a quidditch match, late-night talks with your best friend. but none of them seemed to spark the necessary warmth.
just as you were about to give up, a memory surfaced. a smile bloomed on your face. you opened your eyes and met jungwon's gaze. "i think i have it," you whispered.
he nodded encouragingly. "focus on that feeling. the warmth, the happiness, let it flow through you and into your wand."
you closed your eyes again, picturing the memory that brought you happiness. it was a little hazy as you tried to focus on the touch and sounds from that memory. with a deep breath, you pointed your wand forward and muttered the incantation.
a wisp of silvery light erupted from your wand, growing and solidifying into a shape. it wasn't perfect – the outline of a cat was more suggestion than a form – but it was a patronus. you had finally done it.
a cheer escaped your lips as you realised you had finally done it. you looked at jungwon, your heart brimming with gratitude. "i did it!"
he beamed, genuine pride radiating from him. "see? you're a natural. you just needed a little nudge in the right direction."
his words held a hint of something more, something that sent a shiver down your spine. you wanted to thank him properly, to express just how much his help meant to you.
"thank you, jungwon," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. you wished, however, that your patronus could solidify into something more impressive, something that truly reflected the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.
as if sensing your unspoken desire, jungwon stepped closer. his movements were subtle, almost hesitant. but before you could question it, he reached behind you, his hand gently wrapping around yours, enclosing both your hands and your wand within his hold.
a jolt of electricity shot through you at his touch. the air in the room crackled with a tension you hadn't noticed before. your focus on the patronus wavered momentarily, replaced by a hyper awareness of jungwon's warm torso pressed against your back, his fingers brushing against yours.
his warm breath fanned over your ear as he whispered even though there was no one around to hear you both, “now completely focus on that memory.”
the room seemed to shrink, the air growing thick with unspoken tension. you focused on the memory, it acting as a soothing anchor in the storm brewing inside you. but this time, something was different. the wispy light from your wand pulsed, growing brighter, solidifying. the faint outline of a cat sharpened, taking on a more defined form.
in the heightened focus, you were oblivious to everything except the memory and the warmth radiating from jungwon's hand on yours. the familiar nostalgia from the memory echoed in your mind, a beacon of happiness. with a burst of energy, a fully formed silver cat patronus materialised, leaping and frolicking around the room.
you gasped in awe, forgetting everything else. "it's perfect! it's actually a perfect patronus!"
you jumped, unknowingly pushing yourself more into jungwon, making him wrap his hands loosely around you as he chuckled lowly. you spun around to share your joy with him.
but as you turned, your breath hitched. you were impossibly close to him, his hand still wrapped around yours, his face mere inches away. his eyes were dark and intense, a mirror of the emotions swirling within you. the air crackled with unspoken desire.
you leaned in, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. he tilted his head ever so slightly, his lips hovering a whisper away from yours. his breath hitched ever so slightly, as you both leaned in, the space between your lips closing with each passing second.
just as your lips were about to meet, jungwon pulled back abruptly.
he cleared his throat, his hand falling away from yours. "that's... that's amazing," he stammered, his eyes flickering away from yours. "a perfect patronus. you really are something else."
his words held a strange distance, and a knot of unease tightened in your stomach. the electric tension that had thrummed in the air moments ago had dissipated, replaced by an awkward silence. you weren't sure what had happened, but embarrassment washed over you in suffocating waves. the joy of your achievement felt strangely hollow now.
your patronus immediately vanished into thin air, leaving a trail of sparkles behind.
the tension in the room receded as quickly as it had risen, leaving a bewildered silence in its wake. you blinked, confused and slightly disappointed. why did he stop?
"i, uh," he stammered, looking at his shoes, "i think it's getting late. maybe we should call it a night?"
did he regret the near kiss? or was there something else at play?
you opened your mouth to ask, but the words wouldn't come. the magic of the patronus lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.
"yeah," you finally managed, your voice barely a whisper. "it's getting late."
jungwon offered a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before gathering his things and hurrying towards the exit. you watched him go, a myriad of emotions swirling within you.
disappointment gnawed at you like a dementor during your potions class the next day. your potions professor, inspecting your bubbling concoction with a delighted smile, declared it "exactly by the book."
he beamed, announcing, "it appears the extra sessions have paid off! perhaps we can consider them concluded, wouldn't you agree?"
a lump formed in your throat. you glanced at jungwon, expecting a playful jab or a celebratory nod. but he simply shrugged, a noncommittal, ‘sounds good to me,’ escaping his lips.
the professor's words should have filled you with relief. you were back on track, independent once more. yet, as the class ended, all you felt was a hollow emptiness. you caught jungwon's eye for a fleeting moment, hoping for a familiar spark or a shared grin. instead, he averted his gaze, muttering a hurried goodbye and hurried out of the classroom.
this became a pattern over the next few days. in the hallways, where you once exchanged playful jibes, jungwon now seemed to melt into the background whenever you approached. shared classes were endured in a tense silence, his friendly demeanour replaced by a distant politeness.
you replayed the scene in the room of requirement over and over in your head, desperately trying to pinpoint where you'd gone wrong.
had you misread the tension? had you moved too fast, startled him with your sudden boldness?
one evening, you found yourself lingering outside the room of requirement, the usual meeting place for dumbledore's army. you weren't sure why you were there, perhaps a desperate hope that jungwon would appear. the door creaked open, and your best friend peeked out.
"lost something?" she asked, her brow quirked in concern.
you shook your head, the words refusing to form.
"everything alright?" she pressed gently, her perceptive eyes searching yours.
you sighed, finally blurting out, "it's jungwon. did i…did i do something wrong?"
her knowing smile softened the blow. "ah," she said, pulling you into a hug. "sometimes, the most powerful potions are brewed in silence, simmering with unspoken emotions."
her words offered little comfort, but they planted a seed in your mind. maybe rushing something as delicate as what you felt for jungwon wasn't the way. maybe patience, like the perfect potion, required time and the right balance of ingredients. you resolved to let things cool, to focus on mastering your spells and potions, hoping that maybe, one day, the right opportunity would present itself, and the spark you shared with jungwon wouldn't need words to reignite.
screw whatever you thought before. you couldn't wait for that ‘one day’ to come as you watched your classmate, a girl with hair like spun sunshine, practically cling to jungwon's arm in herbology. they were bent over, giggling like pixies at a particularly stubborn gillyweed.
fury replaced the embers of hope your friend had ignited. who was this girl? had he moved on that quickly?
jealousy bubbled in your stomach as you stalked away from the window, hurt settling in your chest. but you were determined to make things right, even if it meant making your friendship(?) with him awkward, you needed to know what went wrong.
the bell signalling the end of class was your cue. you bolted out, weaving through students, your eyes locked on jungwon. he noticed you coming, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but before he could react, you were upon him.
he was walking with the sunshine-haired girl, lost in their own conversation, until a breathless, "jungwon!" ripped him from it. he turned, eyes widening further when he saw your determined, (slightly crazed) expression.
"uh, hi?" he stammered, glancing between you and the girl who stood blinking at you both, confused.
"excuse me," you said politely through gritted teeth to the girl, who, thankfully, scurried off with a mumbled ‘see you later, jungwon.’
now, alone with the reason of your anger and surging jealousy, you grabbed his arm and steered him away from the castle grounds. you marched him past the greenhouses until you reached a secluded clearing near the black lake. there, with a flourish that would have earned you points in charms class, you pinned him against a sturdy oak tree.
he stared at you, bewildered, as your chest heaved. "okay," he started cautiously, "what's going on?"
"what's going on?" you sputtered, finally finding your voice. "what's going on is, i thought we had...something!" you gestured wildly towards the castle, where you could still see a flicker of sunshine hair disappear around a corner.
jungwon blinked, then a slow blush crept up his neck. "we...we do! we had potions tutoring sessions, remember?"
you threw your hands up in exasperation. "ugh, not tutoring! this…this unspoken thing we have!"
his blush deepened, and he mumbled something inaudible under his breath.
"what?" you demanded.
he took a deep breath. "look, about that night in the room of requirement..."
"yes?" you leaned in, heart pounding.
he cleared his throat. "maybe i… i overreacted. i wasn't sure what you were feeling, and…"
he trailed off, his gaze dropping to the ground. you gaped at him, realising the truth. you hadn't scared him off, he'd scared himself off!
but there was more. a flicker of insecurity crossed his eyes. "and to be honest," he admitted sheepishly, "the real reason i've been avoiding you… well, it's because i was trying to figure out how to tell you something...something big."
you blinked. here you were, fuming about a nonexistent threat, while jungwon had been battling his own insecurities. the situation was hilarious, almost. but mostly, it was endearing.
a slow smile spread across your face. "well, spill it, jungwon. don't leave me in suspense."
he fumbled with his words, cheeks burning a fiery red. "it's about...well, ever since the beginning of this year, i’ve looked at you…in a different light."
your heart thrummed erratically now, hoping he was getting to where you wanted him to.
"...and, well, you're not just funny and smart, you're kind and brave, and the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, it just makes me..." his voice trailed off, his eyes pleading with yours.
his rambling was adorable, but the knot of frustration in your stomach tightened with every nervous stammer. you couldn't take it anymore.
grabbing him by the collar, you silenced him with a kiss. it started desperate, fueled by the need to know his true feelings, but as his lips met yours, it melted into something sweeter. you poured your unspoken emotions into that kiss, the frustration, the longing, the dawning hope.
suddenly, jungwon spun you around, switching your positions so that you were pushed against the tree now. your breath hitched in surprise at his sudden show of confidence. he dove back into the kiss, his soft lips moving against yours in fervour. the intensity of your kiss increased along with your pulse and you were pretty sure jungwon could feel it with the way he was pressed up against you
when he finally pulled back, breathless and dizzy, a different kind of silence hung in the air.
jungwon stared at you as your cheeks flushed a brilliant crimson, mirroring the sunset bleeding across the lake. finally, a smile bloomed on his face, genuine and relieved.
"see," he breathed, voice husky, "that was much easier than all that."
you laughed, a genuine sound that echoed through the clearing. relief washed over you, warm and tingly. "i should be the one saying that" you teased.
“yeah well i chickened out”, he scratched his head in embarrassment, “i wanted my confession to be perfect.”
you smirked, “yeah well what you pulled right now was very romantic. i didn’t know you had that in you.”
he rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “you liked it though. let’s head back now, it’s almost time for dinner.”
you smiled as you walked in step with him, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. he squeezed your hand with a cheeky grin on his face. you returned the squeeze looking up at him in question, when his next words had a blush blooming on your face.
“i hope you’re going to pay me back for those lessons with more of such kisses.”
𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr
˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱
#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen fics#enhypen x reader#jungwon#yang jungwon#jungwon x reader#jungwon imagines#jungwon fics#jungwon oneshots#kpop fics#hogwarts au#enhypen hogwarts au
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Deja Vu | Pt. 1
s.m: You are falling to your death. Your final wish is to be able to go back and stop the war. It seems the gods have granted your wish and you open your eyes to be back to the fateful day before of lucerys trial months before your 'death'. You must do everything in your power to prevent the war even if the only way is to find herself in the arms of the one man she hates most, Aemond Targaryen.
w.c: 8.6k
c.w: minor spoilers for the later seasons of hotd, putting anything else here would be spoilers. but theres nothing too crazy don't worry. NOT PROOFREAD theres smut i promise for the freaks out there.
a.n: this is literally just two freaks trying to see if they can match each others freak, enjoy !
masterlist - part two
d.t ml @venmondiese
You’re falling. How long have you been falling? They say when you die you see your whole life flash in front of your eyes but all you see is the grey sky above you.
You are going to die.
You expect to be more scared. You should be screaming, crying, yelling for help. But as you fall through the skies the one thing you feel is regret. As you watch your dragon be chomped up by vhagar, the way your body burns after being lit on fire, you just saw your brother be knocked off his own dragon into the sea.
Whoever is listening to me now. I will beg of you. If i can only ask for one thing, i wish to go back. To stop this all from happening. To prevent the war. Please. This is all i wish. If in death i only wish to remember the good. Please.
You allow yourself to close your eyes. You shall meet the stranger soon. You expect it to hurt once you hit the ground, yet it does not.
Instead your eyes burst open with a jump and you take many a deep breath.
“Are you alright dear?” You look in front of you with alarm. Your mother and your step father look at you worriedly. What in the hells is happening?
You were just in battle. You look down at your outfit and realize you are wearing the same outfit you had been wearing to the keep when you arrived for Lucerys trial. You look back up and notice your parents also appear to be wearing the same outfits as that fateful day. You were sitting in the same carriage, the same familiar bumps in the road.
Were you replaying your life as some had claimed? But it felt too real. “Sweetheart?” your mother reaches forward. as best she can as viserys sits on her lap, and grabs your hand, “Bad dream?” Maybe it had been all such a terrible terrible dream. “Yes, I'm sorry mother.” She squeezes your hand before letting go, going back go bouncing viserys on her leg.
You lean back and take a couple deep breaths. It was simply a terrible dream. But when you turn to your right you gasp, “Lucerys.” He looks at you with wide eyes, “Are you well sister?”
You cant help but hug him, turning your body towards him so he is practically sitting in your lap, shoving your head into his neck, filling his pulse race against your forehead. “Sister? What are you doing? ow this is uncomfortable!” You ignore his whines as your eyes build up with tears. Months, you have gone months without seeing him, hearing his voice, smelling him, feeling his pulse, you missed him. You missed him so much. “Are you crying?” your tears had begun to drip down his neck and soak into the neck of tunic.
“I had a terrible dream.” You rush out as you sob. Because that's all it was. An awful dream. You feel Lucerys unstiffen as he relaxes in your touch, allowing himself to get comfortable in your lap as it grows clear to him you have no intention of letting him go. you hear him whisper to you “I am alright sister, i promise.”
You say nothing in return, just allowing yourself to listen to his breaths. It is almost as if it was real, him truly dead. You try to ignore the churning of your stomach as he begins to play with the ends of your hair, his head soon drops to your shoulder and you hear his breath relaxing. He’s sleeping. You slowly turn yourself to be facing forward, his head falls into your shoulder as he begins to softly snore. You rub your hands up and down his back as you finally rid yourself of your tears.
“Was your dream truly so horrid sister?” You turn to your left and there sits Jacaerys, next to him sits Joffrey who was fast asleep. You try to ignore the flashing images of arrows pelted into his skill that appear in your mind when you see his face. You reach your hand up and touch his face, your hand lays on his cheek as he blinks at you. “So horrible.” He grabs your hand from his cheek and laces your fingers with his.
“It was just a dream dear sister. Do not fret.”
Yes. That's all it had been. A really awful terrible dream.
Yet it gets harder to deny it was in fact all just a dream as the sequence of events play out exactly the same as they had. How your mother had been greeted at the gate, how your parents told you and the boys to entertain yourselves while they went to go meet with viserys. Even the walk to the courtyard was the exact same save for the way you clung to Lucerys which he was more than happy to let you, as he had his own nerves about being back in the keep.
This was so strange. You watch as Jacaerys eagerly approaches the swords, the way Lucerys looks around anxiously, the way Joffrey trails at your other side. You felt sick.
Your stomach drops, as you think about what you had been praying for. Were the gods truly giving you another chance? To fix this? But how would you even fix this? You know you cannot let it happen as you feel Lucerys tightly grip your hand. You have to do everything in your power to make sure he stays safe, to make sure they all stay safe.
But how would you even go about such a thing? The family is basically beyond repair. You know of what will occur, if you can’t figure this out. You try to come up with anything.
Suddenly you hear the clanging of swords and you whip around. As much as you hate to admit it an idea pops in your head. No. This can’t be it. There must be something else you can do. Not him. definitely not him. Yet you find yourself getting pulled along by Lucerys to watch the fight.
He truly is such a skilled swordsman, you would know you’ve seen him in the fields, even having gone head to head for a moment before you fled. You can barely pay attention to the fight. This is it. If you’re really going through with this you would need to start right here right now. You must be able to come up with something else right? There is no way this is the only option.
“Nephews, have you come to train?”
Your mind comes up blank. You feel Lucerys move to hide behind you as Jacaerys takes a step back.
His eye finally moves to you, “Niece.”
You have no other choice.
You let go of Lucerys and take a step towards him, you put on your best smitten look and smile at him. “Uncle, its been too long.”
You must be bold, you must do anything for your family.
You offer him your hand, it hands in the air for a moment and you fear he will simply brush you off. You’re sure your brother are staring at you confused but you can’t be bothered to care as an amused look graces Aemond’s face and he tilts his head.
He grabs your hand and brings it up and his head far down enough to lay a kiss on the back of you hand. You let the smile on your face grow no matter how much you wish to spit at him.
“You have grown into a beautiful lady dear niece.”
You bring one of your hands to cover your mouth as you look down at the ground. You feel Lucerys tug at the back of your dress but you cannot give up.
“and you have grown into a fine prince dear uncle.”
The sudden marching through the hall should not startle you the way it does. Maybe you had just been so lost in your act you could not remember when it had happened. You watch with blank eyes as Vaemond stares you down, you doubt his fate will change and he no longer scares you the way he once had.
You turn back towards Aemond and see he is already look at you. You smile at him before you turn you back to your brothers. “If you wish to go you can, i wish to stay here.” Jacaerys looks at you with worry, “Truly?” You remember you had all quickly fled to your rooms after seeing Vaemond and you knew he would soon suggest you all head back. yet you can’t go not now, not when you must make this believable.
You nod eagerly and they hesitate, especially Lucerys who truly does not want you to leave but you urge them too, it would not go as well if they were here.
“Shooing off your nephews dear niece? how disappointing.” Aemond finally speaks as you watch them quickly walk away not before sparing you once last glance before they turn the corner.
You hate to admit you think he is handsome. Probably the most handsome man in the realm. When you look at him he has a smirk on his face. “Would it be scandalous to say i wish to just spend some time with you my prince?” He raises his eye brows and a look of surprise crosses his face before it drops back to his more stoic look. He takes another step towards you and the smirk graces his face once more as you bashfully look away from him. “You truly wish to?” No. definitely not. “What if i said i did?” You whisper towards him.
He looks like he about to say something else before a voice cuts in behind him. “The prince still has training to do. He best not be faced with any,” Criston looks at you with a glare which leads you to try to hold back you eye roll, “Unfortunate distractions y/n”
You open your mouth to say something, you are unable to stop yourself, wishing to spit some vile insults at him but Aemond speaks before you can. “It is princess to you ser Cole, best not forget yourself.”
You can’t help the smile that grows on your face and the warmness that spreads though your chest. No. You should not be feeling like this. He simply did it as he knows it is rude to not address you correctly, you know it would certainly make him mad.
It amuses you the way criston bites his tongue and mummers to himself for a moment before speaking again. “My apologies princess.” You nod, not wishing to fight with him as of now. “But the training yard is not a place for, you, it would be best if you left.”
You still think he is talking to you inappropriately but you will not say anything to him for now as you simply turn back to Aemond. “I suppose i shall leave, but will you take long? I wish for someone to show me around the gardens, if you would of course.”
You fold your hands behind your back as you stand up tall, You can not faulter. It would be good to get away for a moment, as you have a request you must make. criston speaks before Aemond does, “I will request a guard for the princess-” “I shall not be too long, though i would hate to make you wait.”
You shake your head a begin to walk backward, the smile on your face growing “I will wait as long as it takes dear uncle, please come fetch me i shall be in the library.” You turn before either of them could say anything else and hurriedly walk up the steps and out of view.
Once you are far enough away from the room you lean against the wall and take a couple deep breaths. You feel sick but you can’t help the way your heart races as you think of the interaction.
Was he always so, charming? Well the last time you had met you had been children. Until the rest of your brothers and step sisters you did not see him on driftmark as you had been bed ridden with a fever during the service and your mother thought you too unwell to travel. You had no clue what happened and you had no clue that would be the last couple moments you spent in the keep as you woke up one day on dragonstone, apparently having been taken while you were asleep.
He was always a meek kid, you being a couple years his senior, never really spent that much time with him. You remember seeing him getting picked on and you would scold your two younger brothers and send an apology to him but beyond that there was nothing too it. He was certainly a grown man now.
No. You shake your head to yourself and slap your cheeks. What were you thinking? This is the man who murdered your little brother. Who slaughtered house strong. You could not be thinking this this. It does not matter. You no matter how much you despised him had to get this done. You do not walk towards the library. Instead you walk far up the stairs until you are stopped by some guards.
“I would like to speak to my grandsire, is he free?”
“The hand should take care of any concerns you have.”
“I am first born daughter of his first born daughter Rhaenyra Targaryen you will allow me entry if he is free.”
You cross your arms and stare at the guards who look at each other before they allow you entry to the room. You have not seen him in years you doubt he even knows who you are. So when you hesitantly enter the room and come into his view you try not to gag at the sight of him. You had forgotten how close to death he looked, it know being clear to you he was on his death bad, basically standing at the strangers doorstep.
“Aemma?” You whine and walk closer to him. “No grandsire it is me, y/n. Rhaenyra’s daughter.”
He is silent for a moment before he lets out an ah and a smile graces his face, allow you to grab his hands and sit on the bed next to him. “Yes yes y/n, my dear its been so long. too long.” You nod and smile as best you can at him. “Yes grandsire i have missed you.” He agrees and squeezes your hands.
“There is a proposal I’d like to ask you of.” You hesitate, this is really it. You have no clue if this is even going to work. But you have to try, even if it kills you you must try. “I am sure you could see how our family has been divided as of late,” You know exactly how to pull at him, how to get him to agree, remembering his speech from the fateful dinner that will probably occur tomorrow. “I hate it. I wish for us to be a family together. Which is why i must tell you. I have been in love with Aemond since i was a young girl. He is the man for me grandsire i am sure of it. So i must ask for your blessing in our union, to grant me my one true wish. To make our family whole.”
You are proud of yourself that you do not throw up. You are sick. You cannot believe you are even asking this. But you have to, you see no other path forward. If you can convince him to be on your side and stop this maybe it could all be prevented. You could be a fool walking into a lions den but it does not matter, you have to try.
“Yes yes that is all i wish for yes you shall marry him. oh the wedding will be beautiful, and we will be all together.” You do not have the heart to tell him he will probably not make it to the wedding. instead just smiling brightly and thanking him, squeezing his hand tightly. “Oh thank you grandsire this makes me so happy.” He nods eagerly before he begins to cough, telling you he needs some rest but as you walk away you can see him fall asleep with a smile on his face.
You are going to be sick. You are going to marry him. If you live long enough to marry him, if he does not kill you first. You try to hide the fact that your hands are shaking so badly and you stumble slightly as you walk as you make your way to the library. You know him to be a ruthless man. A Kinslayer. And now you were going to marry him. You were totally screwed.
You are unable to sit still in your seat, constantly rocking back and forth or tapping you hand and feet as you wait for him. He has no clue you’re sure. and your hopeful your grandsire will tell no one definitely not Alicent or most certainly not otto. You should have said something about it before you left but there is no point on dwelling on it now. as you try to relax in your seat.
“You are truly waiting for me.” You sit up out of your seat and turn to him in alarm. He had changed into more a more formal dark green outfit.
“of course uncle, i was truthful when i said i would wait for you.” You can’t read him. He does not speak for a moment, keeping his gaze stuck onto you, looking you up and down. You feel like he is analyzing you, trying to catch even the most minor slip up from you. Like he can tell you are trying to trick him. You can’t have him thinking like that, so you eagerly walk to his side and smile as sweetly as you can at him.
“I apologize if i interrupted your busy schedule uncle.” He smirks and shakes his head, offering you his arm, “Do your brothers know you are here?”
You shake your head and look at the ground. You do not get to see the pleased look that finds its way one his face until he grabs your chin and lifts your head up to look at him, taking a step closer. You feel your chest tighten. You do not understand why you feel this way, why his stare and the simply tilt of his head as your breath quickening. “How curious.”
He drops your chin quickly and acts as if nothing had just happened, offering you his arm. “You said you wished to see the gardens yes? They have grown rather nicely in your absence.” You hesitate for a moment as he raises his eyebrows with a smirk at your hesitance. You certainly cannot faulter now. you cant let him catch on to you, you can tell he has his suspicions.
You eagerly grab onto his arm and take a deep breath, accidently allowing yourself to be consumed by his addicting scent. You cannot stop the delighted hum that escapes you and your gasp covering your mouth. You are humiliated. You turn your head towards him and notice a different look on his face as he stares at you. He says nothing, simply letting out a hum before speaking, turning his head away from you. “We should head out now, the garden is lovely in the afternoon.”
You are glad he says nothing and simply nod and he begins to lead you out of the library and towards the courtyard. You attempt to ignore the stares and whispers of the maids and other ladies in the hallway as the two of you walk. You’re sure word will spread of the two of you walking arm and arm together, you are already dreading the talking to you’ll probably get from your brothers, your mother and especially daemon.
You cannot think about that now. Not as you finally arrive in the garden and simply begin to stroll through the large hedges of grass.
“I wish to know how you’ve been fairing uncle,” You stop for a moment pressing your free hand against his elbow in your laced arm, “I am embarrassed to say.” You bashfully look away, as if you do not wish to say it.
You are shocked you are able to act so well. Or at least you hope you are. You have to get him to believe you, you hope he is at least slightly convincing by your performance.
Your hopes are somewhat confirmed when his arm grips onto tight and looks your way, “You should talk freely with me my sweet niece.”
You blush at his words, unable to control the heat that flows up to your face. You are only happy he seems to be convinced, yes that is it.
“I have missed you.”
He turns you to face him and your breath stops. You two are chest to chest and he’s staring at you with dark eyes. You can feel his breath fanning on your face as you try to ignore the pounding of your heart at your proximity.
“You should not say such things to just anyone my sweet. Some men will not be as kind as i am after you say such things.”
my sweet.
You attempt to pull out of his arms but he keeps you there firmly. Staring you down as if he was a predator looking at his prey, you can’t help but whine quietly and you hear him hum, his grip tightens on you before he lets go. Taking a step back and coughing into his fist.
“I apologize, i lost myself.”
You can’t do anything but nod. Breathing heavily as if its the first time you can breath in years. You grip onto the spot where your heart is and grip the fabric tightly as your heart beats louder than it ever has. He looks at as stoic as he always does while you must look like a disheveled lady who just got caught in a scandal.
You basically were, feeling so caught by aemond who simply stares at you, his eye never leaving your face as he watches your every movement.
He opens his mouth to say something before a scared maid comes approaching you two, “my prince-” “What is it.” He spits at her, his face leaving yours angrily as he stares at the girl. The poor girl is practically shaking, she bows, “I am so sorry my prince but, the queen has requested your presence.”
His face drops as he straightens up at the mention of his mother. You suddenly notice the eyes you feel staring at you. It gives you a chill which runs down your spine, you look around the gardens for anything and notice nobody other than the maid and of course aemond. Then where are those eyes coming from?
“Of course, tell her i shall be there shortly.” “she requested i walk you to her immediately my prince.” You suddenly turn around and look upwards and you see two pairs of eyes staring right at you. Otto and alicent. How long had they been watching you? Had they seen what just happened between you and aemond? Not that anything had happened. No definitely not. Just two people talking.
“Of course.” You turn back to aemond and give him a nervous smile. He notices the look on your face and tilts his head as he looks at where you had just been looking. He tsks and turns his head away, you swear you see him roll his eye as he huffs. He looks back to you and grabs your hands, you try to pull them out of his grasp, your head flicking behind you, worrying they will see but he keeps you tightly in his grip.
“I am sorry to leave you, i shall see you dear niece.” He pulls your hands to his face and leaves a kiss on the backs of your hands before he drops them and walks off, not even waiting for the maid to follow after him. The maid quickly bows to you before hurriedly running off after aemond. You look back up and notice that the two of them are gone, you let out a sigh of relief praying they had left before they saw any of that.
Maybe you should be hoping they had. Then your act would be more believable. You never thought this would turn out like this. Maybe he just believed you far too much and was no acting on it. You wish you felt a sickness in your stomach, you want to hate him. He killed lucerys. You should hate him, you have hated him these last couple months. Nothing has changed, you do hate him. Do you?
You stand in the garden for a while your mind running a mile a minute. Are you getting so into your act that you're truly starting to believe it?
No. Enough of these foolish thoughts. You hastily move out of the garden, you should just head back to your room and sleep. Its late afternoon, you fake fatigue from your travels to avoid talking to your parents and brothers and lay down on your bed after a quick bath.
You stare up at the ceiling as the thoughts from today come spinning back up. Will this really work? Will this even be able to prevent anything? or are you just doing this for your own selfish gain? No. This absolutely had to work. You could not bare to go through what you had months ago, you still do not even know if anything is even real.
You try not to let your mind spiral and descended into madness as the sky turns from light to dark, skipping dinner. it’s not good to think about answers you will not receive until you see it for yourself. You should just try to sleep, but the way you are tossing and turning your eyes not even fluttering closed you fear you will not sleep a wink tonight.
Suddenly you hear soft knocks laid on your wooden door and you shoot up. For a second you think it may be aemond, you knew of aegons more horrendous personality maybe aemond is of the same mind and wishes to claim something from you? No, aemond is certainly not as depraved as him, you had known he took a mistress during the war, that witch, but if the rumors were true she was the only woman he laid with.
You open the door and let out a sigh. “lucerys.” You do not know if what you feel is relief or disappointment. Why would you feel disappointment? You watch as your brother attempts to smile at you before he looks meekly at the ground. “Can i, can i sleep with you sister? i cannot sleep.” Your heart aches at the sight of him, he had not come to you last time, had he felt the same way and could not sleep but felt like he couldn't come to you? was your over display of affection for him today the thing that gave him the confidence?
“of course you can.” You open your door wide enough and allow him to pass by you where he hurriedly scurried in and flops himself onto your bed. You smile at him as you walk over and lay down beside him. He smiles softly at you and lets out a quiet thank you as you begin to stroke his hair. “Are you alright?”
His face drops and he takes a deep breath, “i am scared. Why do they question us so? I wish we looked more like ser laenor and less like ser harwin then they would not question us, then we would be able to stay at dragonstone together, instead of being here.” Your heart begins to ache, you continue to stroke his hair.
You know of his doubts, his worries, and you wish you could do more to sate is worries. You know the trial will go fine tomorrow, knowing viserys will come to defend his heir, but he has no clue of that. Nor should you but you do.
“Everything will work out luce i promise. Leave it to mother to worry about.” “But i do not wish for her to worry. I wish i could do more for her. Maybe i should not be named heir to driftmark.” You sit up causing him to look at you alarmed. “Lucerys velaryon do not say such things. You are a wonderful boy who shall grow up to be the most honorable man, you should not speak down on yourself.” You cross your arms as your heart tries to be ripped from your chest as you remember. If you do not succeed he will probably be killed, by the man you are trying to court.
This whole thing was ridiculous.
He seems content with what you said and simply smiles at you, his eyes droopy with sleep. “Thank you sister.” You continue to comb his hair with your fingers as he’s lulled to sleep. You press a kiss against his forehead and allow him to press himself into your side.
You can’t allow anything to happen to him. You cannot allow yourself to be swayed by aemond’s charisma. He killed your brother. He was heartless and ruthless, a kinslayer. You cannot be swayed. he does not make your heart thump and have your breath racing.
You almost allow yourself to fall asleep before heavy banging on your door jolts you and lucerys up. You two look at each before looking back the door. “Who could be here this late?” No. He was not here was he? Another set of banging hits the door and you gulp.
There was no way right? You freeze as your hand hits the handle. What would you say if it was him? What would you tell lucerys? What would he do if aemond do if he saw lucerys? What would lucerys do if he saw aemond? you know the two will meet eventually, which did not go well at all, so what if its truly him?
You grab the handle and pull it. Letting out a huge sigh of relief as he storms past you. “You were not at dinner.”
He turns to you his arms crossed, your brother crosses his arms at you in the middle of the room. Baela and rhaena follow into the room, closing the door behind them. “I have been tired all day brother, i wished to rest.”
“You were not tired when you were walking around in aemonds arm rather cozy.” you ignore him, greeting you sister baela and smiles and gives you a warm hug before stepping and crossing her arms at you too. “Not you too.”
“What could you possibly have been doing with aemond?” You sigh and walk back to the bed, sitting on the edge. “I do not know what you wish me to say.” “I wish for you to explain to me why you were with him.”
You sigh and throw your hands up. “I simply wished to see him.” “You wished to see him? are you mad?” “Is that so wrong?” “Yes!”
You flop down on your bed and sigh. You feel the bed bend down next to you and see you jacaerys face staring at you. “you are acting strange sister, i simply am worrying for you.”
“it is so wrong i wish to bond with my other family members.” “They are not like us you know that sister.” You sit up and stare at them. You wish you didn't have to do things like this. You wish you did not have to do this. You wish you did not have to see the look of hurt on rhaena’s face or baela’s glare, or jacaerys anger or even lucerys confusion.
But you cannot give up now. Standing up to glare at the four of them and cross your arms. Your voice tight with anger. “I do not excuse what happened between you all on driftmark if anything i hate him for it. but you will not understand, i simply wish to spend some time with my other family. We should all want to mend what has been broken, bury old hatched and build, if not a loving family relationship, then atleast a civil one. I am sorry that i am the first person to realize that it is no good it would do no good for blood to be bad between is, not for us, not for rhaenyra. or her claim. We as family must have each other's back. and if we are not at least civil with these people they will never support us.”
The four of them are silent and you let out a huff as you fall onto your bed and close your eyes. “If you wish to hover and argue with me you may but you will be arguing with a wall. I know i am right and i will be sleeping. You are free to talk amongst yourselves.”
You roll over and keep your back to them. You feel lucerys get off the bed and you assume the four of them have huddled in a corner, whispering to each other. They would not understand. What you are doing for them. They would not even believe you if you tried. Though you hope your story is believe able enough.
You try to sleep. Though you are unable to knowing they are lingering not too far away from you. You feel movement around you and the door opens, footsteps trailing out before it softly closes. A part of you fears you might have scared lucerys off. but when the bed dips next to you you feel relief. “Can i still sleep here sister?” You turn around and look at his nervous gaze and nod, grabbing his cheek and smiling at him. “of course you can stay.” He smiles and lays down at your side, allowing you to wrap your arms around him.
You don’t fall asleep for a while. Simply staring up at the ceiling and feeling lucerys shuffle around in your arms every once in a while. You pray and pray that tomorrow afternoon will go exactly as it had the first time. And for the dinner. You would have to get a lot more creative to try and figure out how to prevent that.
It is now morning and you had been planning on walking to jacaerys room after breakfast before you are suddenly stopped. “Good morning.”
“Good morning my queen.” You bow and attempt to bite your tongue as she gives you what you know now to be a clearly fake smile. “How have you been faring? it has been a long time since we’ve spoken.” “I have been well, as all my family has been, my queen.” She nods and folds her hands behind her back. “I wish for you to walk with me for a few moments.”
It is not a request. She is telling you. So you nod and she walks, not even looking to see if you are following though you are. You know what she wishes to ask. Though you pray your grandsire has not mentioned the proposal to her and she simply wishes to ask what you had been doing with aemond. Not that you would have an explanation for that either.
“I have just been wondering something. if you would clear my head.” The sound of metal clanging behind you would startle you if you did not know criston trailed behind alicent like a damn dog. He should make it less obvious that he is glaring at the back of your head.
Please do not ask about the proposal please do not ask about the proposal,
“I had seen you with aemond in the gardens yesterday, thats curious is it not?” You try to hide the shaky breath of relief you let out. You simply hum , “it is not so curious. We are family after all.”
You act like you do not near the mumbling of ser cole behind you. Something suddenly click to you, he was probably the one who told alicent of your outing with aemond and you grow irritated.
Alicent merely huns though you know there is more she wishes to say. You are silent as she attempt to gather her words properly. You do not even glance at either of them, keeping your gaze forward. Its odd, despite the fact you should be more stressed out talking with the queen you feel more at ease then you were with aemond.
“I suppose you’re right. Its simply been a long time since you’ve been in the keep.” “Exactly the more reason i would wish to spend the afternoon with him. It is rather a shame our time was cut short.”
You don’t get to see the way her eye twitches and the way criston rolls his eyes but you can assume so. “Yes. I am sorry i had to pull him away for somethings..” You can hear how her words are not sincere but you decide maybe you can make her feel bad.
You turn to her with mock shame in your face, “Oh gods i had no clue it was you who pulled him away, i am so sorry i would not have complained if i had known it was you.” She turns to you and has a look of embarrassment on her face, “It is no issue truly, do not fret.”
You smile at her and she gives you a weak clearly forced one back before you turn back forward. It’s fun messing with them.
“My queen.” She quickly turns around where a guard was standing, “Your presence is required in the council room your grace.” She nods before she turns back to you.
“Good day princess.” “Good day my queen.” She scruries off without another glance but ser cole spares you a glare before he trails after her. You sigh and roll your neck out before walking back to your own room, no longer having any interest in speaking to anyone. It would probably be best to have some alone time before the trial anyways.
The trial goes exactly as expected thankfully. Viserys walks up exactly as before, rhaenys says jacaerys and baela and rhaena and lucerys will marry, daemon cuts off vaemonds head. All the exactly the same. It gives you erriry feeling, now you are so sure you have been transported in the past. You keep lucerys hand tightly in yours during the trial though you knew how it would go, allowing him to lean against you in relief afterwards.
The only difference is you can’t help but find yourself glancing at aemond throughout it all. His eyes drift to you as well numerous times, a small smirk finds itself on his face every time you lock eyes. You look away bashfully every time but you always find yourself looking back to him.
You quickly rush out the room after everyone had been dismissed, hoping to avoid everyone. You find yourself in the garden once more, finding a secluded bench and sitting down. Leaning your head back and letting the sun hit your face.
You allow yourself to relax, listening to the sound of the wind and the bugs, breathing in the scent of flowers and grass, enjoying the way the sun and the wind hits you. You don’t know how long you’re lying there. Not until you finally decide to open your eyes and stretch.
You turn to your left and let out a shriek. “Aemond!” He has an amused look on his face as you cover your racing heart with your hands. “I did not mean to startle you my sweet.”
You turn away from him and readjust yourself to be sitting upright, keeping your gaze forward. You merely hum in acknowledgment, not trusting yourself to speak. The nickname. Maybe it has just slipped his mind to add niece at the end of it.
“I merely wanted to see you” You look to him and see the amused look on his face. You still cannot tell if he’s genuine or not, he keeps his emotions completely in check, only allowing you to see what he wishes you to.
You smile, putting on a sweet face as you bravely scoot towards him. “I an happy to hear that uncle.” He hums, continuing to watch you. You squirm under his gaze and cough into your hand due to nerves.
Why do you seem to be enjoying yourself? Why do you like his eyes on you? You hate him. He killed your brother for gods sake. He didn't in this timeline you suppose. No. Why are you trying to rationalize this with yourself? You had just sworn you would not be pulled in by him.
Yet when he leans forward and gazes into your eyes you find your mind turning into putty. “What have you been up to these past few years my sweet? i fear we did not get to talking much today during our time together due to,,,”
He trails off, looking away almost bashfully as if he is embarrassed about what had happened. You’re sure he probably is, you would be if you were him. Not that what he did was wrong, no it was wrong, very wrong of him to grab you like that and have you so close to him. To say such a romantic statement to you and you two are not even courting. Thought you two wouldn't be entering a courtship anyways, well would your engagement count as a courtship?
“I have not been up to much. I’ve been doing some studying, some reading, lady things.” He nods at your answer but he looks displeased like thats not what he wished to hear. “How have you been uncl-” “Are you betrothed?” You look at him alarmed and try to catch you breath as he leans in closer to you. “I will apologize for being forward later but i must know.”
“Why?” You breathe out with a hushed breath, as you notice his eye drifts to your lips. “You must know. You must know already why i wish to know, why i must know.” No. You don’t know. You certainly don’t wish to. You shake your head and let out a meek no while he nods and gets closer. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a chill runs down your spine as his lips brush against yours and you shiver.
“My prince.” He lets out sound close to animalistic as he whips his head to the left to glare at the squire while you pull all the way back and turn your head out of view, scooting farther away from him.
“Your mother is looking for you-” “Tell her i am busy.” He barks out. Thought you are not looking at him he can tell’s clenching his jaw and glaring. “She requests you now-” “You should go uncle-” “I am never allotted a moment of alone time and the one time i am she demands me? Tell her i am busy at once.”
The squire looks back and forth between you two and you say nothing, simply flushed with embarrassment. This was humiliating. Were you truly about to kiss him? and you were happy you were about to kiss him? You could not believe this. He nods simply, eyeing the two of you for a moment longer before nodding and rushing away.
You breathe heavily as you stare at your lap, your heart racing. What was happening to you? You begin to speak as you turn to look at him, “If your mother needs you maybe you should go- hmm!” he kisses you with a sense of fever you have never experienced. Sucking up every little sound and breath you take, one of his hands finds its place on your jaw.
When you open your mouth a little to gasp he eagerly shoves his tongue in your mouth, pocking and prodding, eagerly dominating you, leaning his body over you to where he is basically covering you completely, leaving you to lean back against the corner of the arm rail.
You grip onto his forearms, unsure of what you are doing. After what feels like an eternity he pulls away from you, eagerly rubbing his nose against your face affectionately, a small true smile falls on his face at your dazed look, his thumb affectionately rubbing the side of your cheek.
“Ao issi sīr gevie issa dōna.” (you are so beautiful my sweet) You flush. You hate him and the way he makes you feel. How dare he. You are supposed to despise him, make him pay for everything he’s done to you, to your family. But this Aemond hasn't done anything. This Aemond who’s gazing into your eyes like you are the stars in the sky, like you are the center of the universe. Maybe if this all works out and there can be no bloodshed there will be no reason to hate him truly.
Suddenly his hand lightly trails down your sides and to the sides of your thighs where he finds himself rubbing circles on your thighs. It is a silent exchange. The eye contact you share being more than enough. Your breath continuous to race as he keeps his eyes on you. one of his hands trailing down your legs and under your dress. Your breath speeds up and your heart quicken, is it even possible for a heart to be beating this fast? Would your heart burst from your chest?
He is a terrible man. An awful one. For being so unaffected while you are panting at a single touch. His hand lays on your thigh as he continues to gaze at you, he stops and you gulp, opening your mouth but unable to speak. He has stripped you of your ability to do anything. You look at him confused why he is not doing anything and then you realize something.
He is waiting for you.
For your queue. for your permission.
You have only heard and read about the affairs between men and women, you have never experienced something like this, he had even taken your first kiss. If you did this it would all be getting too real. Were you truly going to sully yourself like this? It would not technically be sullying yourself as he is to be your husband, no other man is meant to touch you anyway. No man is good to touch you other than him. You don’t want another man to touch you. Only him.
He is surprisingly patient. Not moving his hand an inch. continuing to gaze at you with that same dreamy look. You still cannot get a good read on him, is he truly trying to do this because he holds affection for you or is he merely attempting to manipulate you? had his mother told him to persuade you to get you to submit to him?
You nod to him.
It doesn't matter to you. You want him. Terribly to the point your heart begins to ache and your stomach twists and turns.
He finally begins to move his hand where you are soaked. He merely brushes his fingers against you and you move to grip his forearm tightly staring at him with wide eyes. He continues to simply gaze at you, unable to take your hands off you as he slips past your underwear and shoves a finger inside of you.
You gasp. One of your hands moving to grip his shoulder and pull him closer to you as he lightly begins to wriggle it around, feeling the inside of your walls. You are glad you are in a far away part of the garden for if anyone were to hear you, you would surely be ruined. Yet you couldn't find yourself to care as he pressed his lips against yours in a messy, open mouthed kiss as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you. You are surely hurting him with how hard you are griping onto his shoulder, put his spare hand slides up your dress to begin squeezing your breasts as you gasp loudly against his lips. His lips leave yours occasionally, instead pressing against your cheeks and around your lips.
His finger quickens in pace where he slips in yet another finger giving you a delicious burn in your stomach. He stretches you out, his hands scissoring against you, his fingers pressing against your tightly walls which grip against his fingers harshly. He can move his fingers freely however, as you are completely drenched, allowing him to easily move within you.
You cannot tell how he is feeling, his eye simply closed as he presses kisses against your face but his face seems as stoic as ever. Though you cannot dwell on it again as he adds a third finger. You did not even know women could take more than one but three? This has your jaw clenching and your eyes shut tightly. He still says nothing and you in return. The only sounds coming are from your moans and gasps. You press your face against the side of his, putting your lips right up against your ear as he continues to pump in and out, you are now able to hear the squelching sound coming out of you leaving you to whine. You should be humiliated.
You continue to whine and moan and groan in his ear. Pressing yourself against him tightly, the burning of your stomach roaring louder and louder. You have no clue what is happening to you, not having heard about this unusual feeling before. You want to question him but you cannot find yourself to break this silence between you.
“Brother!” The two of you freeze. Your eyes shoot open and glance at him who looks at you with the same look, glancing over his shoulder at the direction of the voice. “Brother! Where are you? I know you're here!” He groans and mumbles to himself. His face annoyed as he continue to gaze at him. He slowly slides his fingers out of him and you whine at the now empty feeling, that burning in your stomach dying down.
You watch as he stands. You are unable to move only looking at him in confusion. What was happening? “I will make it up to you.”
He leaves. Turning his back to you and does not spare a single glance as he completely leaves your view. You are left clutching the bench and breathing heavily, the daze not having left you.
What the fuck.
#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader smut#house of the dragon#aemond smut#hotd fanfic#aemond targaryen x you#aemondtargaryen#aemond targaryen#hotd#prince aemond#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x reader
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Greedy ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 04, oct.
— pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader x Aegon II Targaryen
— type: smut, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)
— kink: threesome FMM
— summary: Aegon is The Lord of the Seven Kingdoms during the day, but at night he is just a needy man for you and Aemond.
— word count: 1.8k
— tags/warnings: kinktober 4th day, Targcest (aunt/nephews, older brother/younger brother), Hightower!reader, husband!Aemond, threesome (female/male/male), dubcon, Aegond, age gap (older woman/younger men), degradation, creampie, sexism, overstimulation, slapping, sadism, fingering, oral (female receiving), masturbation (male receiving), finger sucking, curse words, dom!Aemond, switch!Aegon, sub!reader, Gwayne Hightower mentioned, implied Hightower Incest (older brother/younger sister), porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.
— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n
— crossposting: AO3
With each passing week, all your years dreaming about marry a kind and charming man were going down the drain since Aemond fulfilled the duty his mother and his grandfather forced upon him. He did not expect that. He did not expect to get married so soon, much less with his aunt, the woman he even despised a little, always complaining about you being annoying and having difficult to deal with your behavior, constantly needing to teach you some lesson.
Throughout your life, you supposed the types of men who might propose to you. Alicent obtained a good matrimony, even though King Viserys was old, he had enough power to take away the sweet and soft version of your sister and turn her into an ambitious woman. Even if it cost her and her children a lot of suffering.
Anyway, your older sister had married a King and you knew you would not meet the same greedy fate, so you at least dreamed about a future husband who would be lovely, even if that was as impossible as longing for a grand marriage like Alicent's.
You dreamed that you could marry some considerably rich Lord who would be kind to you. You even dreamed that you could marry Gwayne, your older brother. It would be a very unusual thing for a Hightower, but you had already heard about your nephew Aegon II's marriage to his younger sister, Helaena, and everyone knew that incest was not uncommon for the Targaryen family. Perhaps your father Otto was already perfectly used to the new mores to the point of betrothing you to your rother. Either way, Gwayne would be an incredible husband, even though you only see him as your big brother and he only sees you as his little sister.
It was not possible to make demands when you were a woman born in Westeros.
However, no matter how much you had considered several hypotheses, nothing prepared you for the terrible and intense feeling at the same time of being married to your own nephew. You never had a good relationship with him. You could not tell if it was because of the age difference or because he simply hated you since he stopped being a cute little boy and became an impassive man.
All you knew was that Aemond hated you, but he did not really hate being married to you. It was fun for him to be in charge of your life. Hating you or not, you belonged to him from the second Otto declared your betrothal, after realizing he dedicated himself so well for years to manipulating Alicent's marriage and his grandson's ascension to the Iron Throne that he even forgot that he had one more daughter to marry. A daughter who, despite being very beautiful, was already at an age considered almost impossible to find a husband.
Aemond scoffed about having made a sacrifice by allowing himself to be with you. But deep down, you knew who the sacrificial lamb really was in that relationship.
Your life no longer belonged to yourself. Now, Aemond Targaryen owned your body, your mind and your soul. You were your husband's property and there was no one who could free you from this torment.
"Be quiet, damn it." Aemond grunted behind you, gripping your wrists tighter as you squirmed trying to free yourself from his grip. "Fuck, you're so annoying."
You arched your back again, this time so you could look directly at your husband behind you. His naked sweaty body, his eye patch still hiding the only vulnerability of his being...
Your eyes dropped to his lips for a moment, seeing how they looked swollen and red from eating you out so much earlier. You tried to say something, anything to refute his curse, but all that came out was a tearful moan.
"Seven Hells, her cunt tastes divine." Aegon's voice sounded muffled between your legs, his tongue working hungrily as his strong arms held your legs open in an almost painful way. You moaned when he began to lick your clit, before lifting his head from there for a few seconds so he could rub it with his thumb.
Aemond scoffed, moving one of his hands to your breast, tightening. "That's because I filled her with my seed."
Aegon chuckled, nodding as he moved his finger a little harder on your pleasure point, running his tongue through your folds again, collecting the little bit of Aemond's cum that he had not finished licking yet. Aemond growled at the sight of his brother with his eyes closed, savoring the mix of tastes inside his wife's cunt.
Without thinking twice, Aemond kept the hand that was squeezing the flesh of your breast and moved the other to the back of Aegon's head, grabbing his hair and forcing him to arch his neck.
"Look at you, lēkia... With your pretty face between our aunt's legs, my wife... Licking her pussy, your face dripping with my cum..." Aemond mocked, tightening his grip on the blonde strands, causing an embarrassed whimper from both Aegon and you. "I thought you were the King."
"I-I am... I am the King.." Aegon whispered, cheeks burning with embarrassment. He looked down at your cunt already red from all the stimulation, before looking at your face again, noticing that you were still shy due the whole situation, but also seemed to want them to continue that.
Aegon did not know how you could have agreed to Aemond's proposal to let them both fuck you. Now, he was starting to realize that you would have no choice if you tried to refuse. Even he was falling victim to Aemond's humiliation.
"A King delights in his sister-in-law's cunt?" Your husband's words made you squirm again. Gods, he needed to shut up and let Aegon finish what they started.
"A-Aemond... Please..." You whimpered to your husband, before being silenced by a slap on the cheek.
"You stupid whore. Did I let you talk?" He growled, enjoying the sight of your eyes filling with tears as your skin began to ache after the impact. Aemond removed his fingers from your breast and brought them to your hair too, pulling it a little more roughly than Aegon's. The feeling of power was addictive, burning through his veins like wine.
Aemond looked at his wife and then at his brother, both of you trying to hold back your whimpers due to the pain you felt in your scalps. "Pathetic. Both of you."
"S-shut up, little brother. I am your King and-" Aegon's attempt to look strong and superior was met with a slap, his face turning to the side as you gasped by automatic empathy.
Aemond smirked mischievously seeing Aegon widening his eyes and placing his hand on his own painful face, indignant at his younger brother's aggressive action. Aegon looked at you and then at Aemond.
"You are nothing but a little slut, Aegon." Aemond said, finally letting go of your heads, grabbing your neck and bending himself down enough to capture your lips in an aggressive kiss, his teeth biting your mouth, not caring about the metallic taste of blood in his tongue every time your tongues met.
You concentrated, not wanting to divert your focus to your lungs begging for air or the realization that Aegon was watching everything while he rubbed his own cock. Aemond did not kiss you very often, even during sex. He found that something very intimate, even more than having his cock buried inside you. So you needed to enjoy every second.
When Aemond pulled away, he looked at you with the ghost of a soft smile, noticing how your lips were swollen from the kiss and your face was flushed from lust and lack of air. "Is not our aunt a beautiful woman?"
Aemond's provocation made you bite your lip and look away, feeling his fingers still around your neck. "Oh, sure... Very beautiful. You are a lucky man, little brother." Aegon whispered, looking horny at the two of you.
"And I bet you are eager to fuck her..." Aemond teased him and Aegon nodded with a smirk.
You noticed Aemond's gaze shifting from you to Aegon. He sucked his own thumb before bringing it to his brother's lips. Aegon was shocked for a few moments, feeling Aemond wiping away the drops of his own cum that Aegon did not even know were there. Before his older brother could joke about anything, Aemond stuck his thumb inside his mouth.
"A-Aemond..." You sighed in surprise, but Aemond gave your neck a light grip, his other hand now very busy.
"Shhh, wife... Watch how your nephew likes to suck my finger." Aemond scoffed and you frowned, looking at Aegon's closed eyes, his tongue moving slowly around Aemond's thumb, soft muffled moans escaping his pouty lips as his own fist began to move faster around his cock. "He is licking my finger like it is the head of my cock... he always wanted to do this. Both."
You widened your eyes at the discovery, noticing how Aegon moaned slyly, opening his eyes for a few moments so he could look at you two, but without stopping licking Aemond's skin, rubbing himself faster after the humiliation of having his dirty thoughts about his own brother exposed in front of you.
It didn't take long for Aegon to cum, Aemond's name sounding muffled by his brother's finger. You whimpered at how the sheets on your bed were now soaked with your brother-in-law's seed.
Aemond's evil laugh echoed through the rooms, his arousal getting harder when he removed his thumb from Aegon's mouth, the older brother now extremely panting and his body trembling. He gripped your neck once again, keeping your face firmly so you could see the pathetic mess that Aegon had become. "Can you see now, wife? Our King is just a greedy whore for his own brother's cock and his sister-in-law's cunt..."
Aegon whimpered with frustration, trying to hide the embarrassment that was clear on his cheeks and his violet eyes full of tears. However, any effort to free himself from that submissive behavior was brutally negated when Aemond grabbed his hair again with his free hand, pushing the young man's flushed face until he was pressed into your aching cunt once again, your loud moan filling the brothers ears as you squirmed from the sudden and sharp return of pleasure.
Aemond loosened his grip on your neck, caressing the skin as he looked at your body trembling each time Aegon licked your clit faster. "Just like this, brother. Being a good boy for the first time..." Aemond praised and also mocked Aegon, still gripping his blonde hair. The King's eyes were wide open as he licked you, looking at your flushed face and then at his brother's mischievous smirk, his mouth too busy to answer anything. "Keep it up and I will let you fuck her needy cunt while I fuck your ass. Perhaps I will even let you put a bastard inside her after I cum inside you..."
HOTD Edition - Masterlist
Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist
Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist
#venusbyline#venusbyline's kinktober#kinktober 2024#kinktober#house of the dragon#hotd#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen x female reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x female reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon targaryen fanfic#aegon targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen smut#aegon x aemond#aemond x aegon#aegond#hotd smut#hotd x reader#hotd fanfic#my writing#my fic#my fics#fic writing#smut scenarios
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going home to best friend simon after a failed blind date (where the guy ridiculed you for what you were wearing, or made you feel stupid or something) and he makes you feel better by finally kissing you the way he’s wanted to for so many years 🥹
🌃🛋️🐆🎱
You hadn't been on a date in far too long. Two months, actually, nearly three. In all honestly, you'd grown sick of spending countless hours scrolling through dating apps, only to be rewarded with unwarranted dick pics and texts at stupid hours of the morning asking 'u up?'. Having had enough of small talk, and being treated like a sentient blow up doll, when your friend had offered to set up a blind date after your whining over a cheap bottle of red, you'd eagerly agreed. Surely, you'd thought, she'd vet the potential date, and you trusted her taste - which was your first mistake.
The second would be actually expressing yourself when going to meet a man you've never been introduced to before. The way he stares down at your shoes with disdain as you walk into the restaurant, or scowls when you order a cocktail is agonisingly obvious, and has you on edge the whole night. Unable to help the way you sigh in relief as you split the bill and get ready to leave, you vow to never do this to yourself again - and then proceed to cry in the cab all the way home.
Simon, conveniently, is standing in the kitchen when you get home, kicking off your favourite heels with a huff, and proceeding to further blubber when they smack against the cabinet and the heel comes loose.
"Bad date?" Your roommate questions, shaking you from the spiral of self pity you're rapidly descending.
"Why do I do this to myself," You huff, perhaps a little dramatically as you throw your purse on the counter, before sitting up on the marble surface to better face Simon - and ease your aching feet. "Like - genuinely - why do I do this to myself? Men are assholes."
Simon only provides you with an bemused hum as he rifles through the kitchen cabinets and fridge. "Grilled cheese?"
"Mhm. M' starving." You scoff, reminded suddenly of the incredulity you'd felt having paid for half of the bill - when you'd only had a salad (ordered for you no less), whilst your 'date' had gorged himself on a rump steak and fries right before your face. Asshole.
Watching Simon's back, straining against his t-shirt as he dutifully prepares you something to eat that doesn't comprise of soggy lettuce and split sauce, you can't help but to sigh, lost in thoughts of why all men aren't like him, and how if he wasn't your roommate, and if you weren't drunk and extremely fragile emotionally, you'd absolutely jump his bones given half the chance.
So distracted, in fact, that you fail to notice the plate of sizzling melty, cheesy goodness placed beside you on the counter, and the crooked smile Simon offers as he stands between your legs, resting his hands either side of you.
"They don't deserve you." He offers, perhaps - no, definitely - out of pity, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles brushing against your cheekbone in one of the softest gestures you've felt in a long time. "Nobody deserves you."
"You do." You can't help the words that spill from your lips, worse still, your eyes darting to his own mouth, breath catching when his tongue darts out to wet them on a subconscious instinct, taunting you.
Stupid, stupid, stupid - is probably what your brain would scream at you when your lips crashed against Simon's - if you gave a shit. Which you don't.
And you're so glad you don't, because the way he kisses you back is practically sinful, all encompassing as he nips at your bottom lip and pulls you closer by the hips with such startling ease that you have to pull back. But of course, by some cruel twist of fate, or maybe just some terribly bad luck, when you go back to kiss him a second time, he stops you, a frown pulling at his dirty blond brows.
"Not now." He whispers, voice hoarse and eyes burning right through your very skull. "Not when you're feeling like this. Not because I don't want to - because, fuck, I do - but not now. I want you when you're ready - and not drunk, preferably. Eat your grilled cheese and we'll get you to bed."
🌃🛋️🐆🎱
#cod mw2#tf 141#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#Simon ghost Riley x f!reader#Simon ghost Riley x yn#Simon Riley x reader#simon riley x f!reader#Simon Riley x yn#Simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x f!reader#ghost x y/n#ghost mw2#simon riley x you#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley cod#ghost call of duty#cod#ghost#cod mwii#call of duty#angies asks!
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Steve Harrington is absolutely the sort of person to become emotionally dependent on a pet. He grew up lonely and he loves taking care of things, and here's this creature that loves him unconditionally and is dependent on him for care? He's a goner
He finds a kitten in his backyard, wet and cold and alone, but in pretty good shape, all things considered. It hisses and swipes at him, but it's also mewing pathetically, and Steve can't just leave it, so he manages to get the thing inside with minimal blood loss (all his) and cleans it up and feeds it. It's a lot more amenable to the idea of Steve once it's warm and dry and full, and by the end of the day, it's curled up and purring in the crook of his neck, and Steve is already prepared to die for this thing
He does recognize that the right thing to do is to ask around and see if anyone is missing a kitten, which he does do, but no one on his street or the next one over lays claim to it, and there aren’t any kind of wanted posters going up for it, so Steve decides he is now the proud owner of a cat
He names her Baby and dotes on her accordingly. (In his defense, the name is Robin's idea; she tells him that he treats the cat enough like a baby, so the name might as well fit. Steve's always been shit at coming up with names, so he just goes with it)
Baby is the world's most spoiled cat, which Steve readily admits. But isn't that what cats are for? She's a wonderful cat and she clearly deserves nice things and Steve is going to get them for her. Toys, treats, a plush cat bed, the best food, whatever he thinks she could possibly need or want. If "I work hard so my cat can live a better life" t-shirts had existed in the 80s, Robin probably would have gotten one for him and he probably would have worn it
Of course, it helps that Baby actually does adore Steve. With everyone else, she ranges from frosty to outright hostile (she's taken a particular dislike to Eddie, of all people, which is unfortunate, because Steve really, really likes Eddie); she'll consent to be admired, and she'll accept treats, and she might even let more familiar people pet her, but in the end she is very much Steve's baby. If he's home, she's stuck to his side like a burr, curled up wherever he is and purring away, content just to be with him. She still snuggles up in the crook of his shoulder at night, just like when she was a kitten, even though she's bigger now and is a bit less easily accommodated
It goes without saying that Baby is strictly an indoor cat. Steve lives right up against the woods and there are predators out there, and people in town drive like assholes, and Steve won't take the chance of her being eaten or run over or meeting some other horrible fate. He really doesn't think his heart could take it
But of course, because all cats are terrible bastards at heart (affectionate), Baby darts out the back door one day as Steve is coming in off the patio, chasing after some other small animal that Steve can't even see, and she's out of the backyard and up towards the trees before Steve can do much more than make a grab for her
And Steve, who has survived interrogations and monster attacks and many situations objectively much more stressful than this, does not panic. He does spend half the night wandering around in the trees with a flashlight, shaking a bag of cat food and calling for Baby, but that's not panicking, that's problem solving
He eventually gets too cold and too tired to keep going and has to pack it in for the night. He holds onto some shred of hope that she'll be waiting by the back door when he wakes up, wondering why the hell it's taken so long for him to come let her in, but apparently that's not the way life works, because the patio and all areas around the house are still distinctly catless come daybreak
Eddie shows up sometime mid-morning, just as Steve is preparing to head back out and look for her. He has genuinely never seen Steve so upset; he looks like he might actually cry if he doesn't find that damn cat, which just isn't something that Steve does. But he's actually fucking distraught, and Eddie simply can't have that, even if Baby is his nemesis, so he goes to the phone and makes some calls
He cashes in on favors, he makes promises, he actually agrees to pay Mike ten bucks to show up, but he gets the kids, all the older teens (the only reason Robin hadn't been there already is because Steve hadn't paused long enough to tell her what was going on), and even the Corroded Coffin boys up to Steve's house to comb the woods for Steve's damn cat
It's Eddie who finds her in the end, a shock of pale, mewling fur actually stuck in a fucking tree. The cliche nearly kills him – either that or trying to climb down a tree one-handed while holding a cat. He's surprised she actually lets him pick her up, but then again, she's been out here all night, she's cold, and at least she recognizes Eddie. Maybe this is the beginning of a truce
Or, she might go back to hissing and swiping at Eddie any time she the mood takes her, but Eddie doesn't even care, because Steve is elated to have Baby back, so fucking happy that he doesn't even seem to notice that she's digging her claws into his arm as she clings to him for dear life all the way back to the house. Eddie will deal with anything that Steve loves that much
Steve pays for pizza to thank everyone for putting their Saturday on hold to search-and-rescue a cat, and everyone warms up and eats their fill before slowly filtering back out of the house. And later, after Baby's been cleaned up and fed and properly doted on and is purring away curled up over a heating vent in the living room, Steve takes Eddie upstairs to show his thanks in a much more thorough manner
After all – Baby is very important to him, and he's more relieved than he can say to have her back, but she isn't the only thing that Steve adores
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#eddiesteve#while I'm sure steve would love a dog too I just really see him as a cat person#he wants to spoil the shit out of something and that's what cats are made for#meanwhile Eddie is losing his mind because cats love him normally. they LOVE him! what is wrong with Steve's cat!#(she does not like sharing steve. that's it that's the reason)#solar wrote
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don’t write checks you can’t cash.
jake seresin x reader (wc: 3.6k)
summary: jake seresin is under your skin. or maybe you’re under his. either way you’re going to eat each other alive. jake isn’t about to take the fall
warnings: mentioned age gap, heavy sexual tension (the smut is coming i promise)
author’s note: back on my topgun bullshit bitches (respectfully). i’m not usually one for multi part fics but i actually wrote something with plot for once so please just bear with me. loosely inspired by Zach Bryan’s ‘nineball’. please note this fic title is subject to change bc i hate it
(you can read part 2 here!)
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You don't believe in love at first sight. You think the whole concept is some foolish idea that people who have already fallen in love have the liberty of saying they believe in. Then people who have been through failed relationship after failed relationship are convinced that they're never going to fall in love because it just doesn't happen. The whole idea pretty much just sets the rest of the population up for failure from the start.
Even the concept of finding the right person one day and growing to love them is hard for you to grasp. Because how can you love someone that much? How do you know you love them enough?There are some days that you don't enjoy the presence of even your closest friends for very long, friends who you would do anything for. Even family, you only tolerated so much.
Your high school boyfriend hated that about you, the fact that you realistically needed so little of him—or anyone for that matter. You have always been violently independent, able to provide what you require, and therefore having to maintain a simplistic relationship became nothing but a monotonous task. Even most of your closest friendships faded with time.
Eventually, you prosed the question: what can someone else give me that I cannot give myself?
The answer was companionship. Because when you strip away everything from a person and all they have left to offer you is themself, you have to be willing to choose them. And sometimes that's not the most appealing quality.
Something did happen, the first time you made eye contact with Lt. Jake Seresin, but it was far from love. It was something terrible in your chest, like an aching. Like you knew in your gut that he was going to change your life. Good or bad, you didn't know, but it was certain to happen.
You don't even believe that you two were destined to meet — you just happened to, and in that moment, the damage was done, it was your fate to ruin each other.
——
You like the way he says your name. You like that he says your name on purpose, like he is intentionally seeking out reasons to say it. It's not as harsh sounding coming from his mouth.
"You from around here, [L/n]?"
You're wiping down the glass hatch of your F/A-18 when he approaches you from behind. You swivel your head to catch sight of him behind your back but he's already making a wide circle around you, his chin tipping up then down as he inspects your plane from behind his tinted aviators.
As you watch him scrutinize your aircraft, you regard him with a certain level of apprehension. Jake Seresin was nothing short of gorgeous. He was six feet of bronze skin and lean muscle, withbright green eyes, and a movie star smile. Not to mention the southern accent that had girls drooling over him.
"Austin," you correct him. "Austin, Texas."
You'd been transferred over to Miramar a little over a month ago, becoming the newest addition to the Dagger squad. California was a nice change of scenery, and everyone you had met so far had welcomed you with open arms. That is, everyone but Lt. Seresin— Hangman as they called him. You were still trying to find your footing with him.
You genuinely don't know what his problem is with you. The guy had hardly even given you a glance since the moment you'd arrived. Your first guess would have been that he was one of those dickheads who didn't like women working in the field, but his relationship with Phoenix disproved that theory.
Your answer seems to warrant his attention, and he looks up. His expression twitches at the correction but he doesn't say anything in response. For the first time since you arrived at Miramar, still, unsmiling green eyes catch yours from across the aircraft.
You hold his gaze. After a moment, your stomach twists in an unsettling way, like even it doesn't know what to do with itself. Your first instinct is to look away. Your brain is telling you that if you do, you can avoid any sort of confrontation that may happen as a result. But it's like you can't.
This is the first time he's looked at you, and now you don't dare to look away.
Even from behind the tint of his perfectly polished aviators, you can make out the distinct color of his green eyes. They're so distracting that you have to remind yourself to breathe.
After what feels like eons of uncomfortable staring, he breaks your gaze —surely it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds. Flustered, you glance around to see if anyone else has picked up on the affair. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you're not quite sure which, it's nearing 6pm and the base is on the better side of empty. It's a Friday evening and everyone is eager to head out for the weekend.
Someone clears their throat. Hangman is still standing there, hands shoved in his pockets like he doesn't have anywhere better to be. You want to say something but your gut is telling you that there's some sort of game going on here and you're not sure of the rules.
Finally, he faintly nods his head, as if to excuse himself, and turns to walk away. You watch his retreating back and relax a little, breathing a bit easier.
As you're turning back to your plane, relieved that the interaction is over, you hear him call back over his shoulder.
“The team is heading to the Hard Deck at nine. Don't be late."
And then he's gone, disappeared between one of the hangars.
——
For nine thirty on a Friday evening, the bar isn't nearly as busy as you'd expected it to be. You don't have to fight for a parking spot out front and there's not even a line at the bar. Other than a rowdy looking gaggle accumulating at the pool table, the atmosphere is pretty laid back. Looking around as you walk further in, there is a handful of people in civilians, but the majority of the crowd is composed of off duty aviators in their summer khakis.
You're about to head over to the bar top, where you were sure you had spotted Captain Mitchell, when someone shouts your name.
"Hawk!"
Your head swivels at the sound of your callsign, and you catch sight of Rooster beckoning to you over at the pool table. Immediately you recognize the familiar faces of the Dagger squad around him. You acknowledge him with a smile and head over to join them.
“And here we thought you were going to be a no-show," the brunette pilot chirps, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as soon as you're close enough. You lean into his embrace while touching his chest with a friendly pat of your hand. Bradley is by no means close to drunk but most definitely more than a little buzzed if you're going off of the smell of beer and lime on his breath and the occasional involuntary twitch of his mustache.
"I thought about it, but I can't keep letting you guys have all the fun," you laugh, holding out your other arm so that you can greet Natasha with a hug as Rooster releases you.
After hugging you, she presses a sweating bottle of beer into your hand. "Coyote bought everyone a round so I figured I'd save you one before the boys wiped them out. Sorry if it's a bit warm, you did show up fashionably late."
You playfully roll your eyes at her, taking the beer anyhow. "Thanks, Phe."
Payback places a large palm on the top of your head, diverting your attention towards him as he returns from the bar. "Don't let her fool you, we're just getting started over here. Rooster isn't even drunk enough to get on the piano yet."
Laughing, you glance over at the brunette aviator. "Now that I've been waiting to see. I hear you're quite the show, Bradshaw."
Since you transferred over to Miramar, you had been hounded nonstop to go out drinking with the team for weeks, and Rooster's infamous performance had been one of their key selling points. That and the fact that the owner, Penny, often gave them free drinks. Apparently she had a thing for Captain Mitchell.
Rooster grins, leaning against the pool stick in his hand as he waits for Fanboy to take his shot. "Let me get a couple more beers deep and I promise you won't be disappointed."
As you go about making your rounds to greet everyone else, you can't help but notice that there's someone missing. After you take a seat beside Bob to watch Rooster and Fanboy play, you glance around the bar a few times, convinced that you've somehow overlooked him despite the fact that the place isn't busy enough for that.
An almost disappointed feeling pulls at you despite how ridiculous the realization makes you feel.
After spending the better part of an half hour trying to push the feeling away, you finally spot a familiar head of blonde hair over at the dartboard. He's by himself, about three darts in and half a bottle of beer down. So much for the personal invitation, you think.
You watch as he throws a dart, practically without so much as aiming whilst contemplating whether or not you even have it in you to muster up the courage to face those green eyes again.
Without giving yourself the chance to back down, you swallow back the rest of your now warm beer and head over.
He tosses another dart just as you reach him, and it finds itself dead center with the previous three.
"With a hand like that, you should be kicking Rooster's ass over there in pool," you say as you come to a stop behind him.
Walking away from the dartboard, Jake turns to grab his bottle of beer from the table beside you.
"I'm not much of a betting man," he huffs, leaning back against the table. The muscles of his biceps bugle distractingly against the sleeves of his uniform.
You look back over your shoulder, watching from a distance as Fanboy's cue clips the eight ball and sends it ricocheting off the sidewall. He groans, and Rooster whoops triumphantly from behind him.
"It wouldn't be much of a bet. Even with his winning streak, I think you'd give him a run for his money."
Hangman takes a sip from his bottle, mouth lingering on the rim before he sets it back down and crosses his arms. "Rooster's all luck and no skill. The table's got a lean."
You raise your eyebrows at the confession, half laughing at his lax confidence. "Oh? And you would know this how?"
"C'mon, son. Fuckin' hit it in."
Body tense, his arm quivers ever so slightly and the pool stick bobs shakily in his hand. He closes his eyes and takes a breath in.
"I haven't got all day, kid."
He breathes out and breathes back in. The smell of cigar smoke and cheap beer swims in his head.
"What're you doin'?! Quit wastin' time."
He exhales, opens his eyes, and hits the pool stick forward. The white cue ball shoots out to the left, bounces against the eight ball, and sends it hurdling towards the side pocket. At the very last moment, it veers off to the left and falls into the back corner pocket instead.
The man standing on the other side of the table curses, his pool stick dropping to the ground, but Jake pays little mind to him. He straightens, looking around eagerly for the only set of eyes that matter. The grin falls from his face when he realizes the old man isn't even watching, too busy counting out his prize money and yanking out a ten to hand to the bartender.
Jake looks up at the clock on the wall over his shoulder.
12:57 am
"Dad, I wanna go home."
"Not yet, son. I've already got fifty put down on another round."
"Want me to show you?"
His offer makes you pause, and you can't help but cock your head a bit as you try to weigh out just where this is heading. For weeks he has acted as though you barely even existed and now you're engaged in the longest conversion the two of you have had since your arrival.
Jake finishes his drink and sets the bottle down whilst walking over to you. "Final offer. Take it or leave it."
You laugh a little before stepping back so that he can make his way to the pool table. "Lead the way then." But before you can make it too far, his palm finds the flat of your back, pressing you forward so that you're in front of him. You're glad he can't see you because your face flashes hot at the unexpected contact.
"I'm not the one playing, kid. I'm just going to show you the ropes."
"Oh, I didn't-"
Any objections you have about the situation are ignored as he pushes you firmly in the direction of the pool table and asks Payback for his cue. "Look alive, Bradshaw. Hawk is about to show you how this thing is done."
Straightening his wide shoulders, Bradley grins, smug and easy as you and Hangman approach the opposite side of the table. "And here I thought you were here to reclaim your throne now that I'm intoxicated."
Jake grins back. "You don't need to be drunk for me to do that."
Bradley's mustache twitches, but he's still smiling. "Sure."
Jake turns back to you, placing the pool stick in your hand. You can't help but think that his expression is all too confident for someone who has never even seen you play pool.
"Nervous?" he asks as you take the stick from him.
"Should I be?" you ask back, turning your head to watch as Rooster takes the liberty of breaking the rack.
He shakes his head, his green eyes glowing with a warmth that you've yet to see from him. "Not as long as you don't totally suck."
Seeing that it's your turn, you brush past him to stand at the table. "I guess I'll let you be the judge of that."
Thankfully you've played your fair share of pool and so you're able to hold your own for most of the game. Jake remains criminally silent as you play, arms once again crossed as he leans against a nearby stool, but you can feel his gaze burning into your back the entire time. It isn't until the end of the game and you've missed the same ball multiple times that he steps in.
"Shift left," he directs you. When you glance over at him, he nods his head as if to insinuate where you should move but doesn't move from where he's planted himself since the beginning of the game.
Hesitantly, you shuffle over a half step and take the shot. The ball comes closer than you have been but still hits the sidewall just short of the pocket. You huff in frustration, and Rooster steps forward to take his turn, sinking his second to last ball in the same pocket.
"I hope you're ready to buy the next round, Seresin. Looks like Hawk is losing her nerve," Bradley goads, unable to keep himself from boasting a little at your expense. When it comes to Hangman, he can't resist the chance to taunt him.
You roll your eyes at his comment, not bothered so much by it as compared to the fact that you're losing. When it's your turn again, you line up the ball and lean down to assume your position when Jake stops you.
All the sudden he's right beside you, palm pressing into your hip to scoot you to the side. "Move over." When you look at him like he's crazy, he huffs. "C'mon, do you want my help or not?"
It isn't so much of a question as it is a statement and the press of his hand against your side doesn't leave you much of an option and so you shuffle over to the far right side of the pool table.
Before you can even comprehend what's going on, he's leant over you, his impossibly tall frame pressed to your back so that he can reach around you and guide your hands. One wraps around your hand on the stick and the other cups your opposite elbow.
It takes everything in you not to jerk away, overwhelmed by his sudden proximity. Instead you try to focus on controlling your hammering heart and pray he can't tell how clammy your palms suddenly are.
"Hey, that's not allowed," Rooster complains. "Is that allowed?"
Coyote shrugs. "It's not not allowed."
Distracted by their bickering, his voice in your ear nearly makes you jump. "Hit the cue ball. Hard."
The lean press of his body is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he's done a god awful job of lining up the shot. There's not one alternate reality where you make this shot.
"You can't be serious."
He's so close that you feel him smile beside your ear. "Dead."
"Any day now," Rooster prompts, as if you aren't aware that Jake Seresin has been pressed against you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. And if Hangman has noticed the fact that your heart is fluttering erratically inside your chest or that your skin is flushed hot to the touch, he doesn't let on.
"I'm waiting," he reminds you, his voice placid in your ear.
Against your better judgement, you take the shot.
The white cue ball hurtles into the black eight ball with a hard clack and sends it flying across the table. It smashes against the sidewall, exactly as you had expected it to, and you release a breath of defeat. And then something unexpected happens. The ball slows, but instead of bouncing to a stop, it continues to roll left across the table. You all watch as it rolls directly into back corner pocket of the table.
"Well I'll be damned," Payback mutters aloud.
"Hell yeah, [L/n]!" Phoenix shouts, her loud and robust voice ringing out across the bar. "Shots are on Bradshaw!"
"Thanks buddy," Coyote laughs, teasingly grabbing the back of the brunette aviator's shoulders as he heads off for the bar.
Bradley waves them off, looking a bit miffed but still good naturedly accepting his defeat.
"How about it? You're a cold blooded killer."
Like a bucket of ice water being dumped over your head, the sound of Hangman's voice coming from behind you jerks you back to reality. You haven't even noticed that he'd stepped away. Something inside you twinges at the loss of his body pressed against yours.
You turn around to face him, your brain still trying to comprehend what just happened.
"How'd you do that?" you ask incredulously, your tone almost accusing. A deeper part of you wants to ask 'why did you do that' but the smile on his face stops you.
His top row of pearly white teeth that you glimpse is pristine, however brief, before his pink lips come back together in a more subdued smile. It's an expression that is so very genuine and carefree that it sends a spark straight through to your heart. You've never seen him actually smile before, and especially not at you.
"You're smiling," you accuse before you can stop the words from coming out of your mouth, half giddy at the discovery yourself.
Jake looks slightly away, turning his head briefly in order to suppress his smile before looking back to you. “Yeah? So?” His green eyes are twinkling as he says it, like he knows he’s been caught.
You jab the short end of the pool stick into the center of his chest, but he’s quick to grab it before it can find home.
“Up until yesterday, you could barely stand to even look at me,” you say.
He bites the inside of his cheek. “That’s not true.”
“So you’re saying that I’m seeing things.” You try to tug back on the pool stick but Hangman doesn’t release it.
“I’m saying you shouldn’t be seeing things.”
With that, a larger portion of the previous smile is gone from his face, a more sober look replacing it.
Just like that the spark fades. Even though you want to shut down, turn your back to his face and just walk away. You force yourself to keep talking, holding your voice steady. “I don’t think I’m following you.”
Inside you know exactly what he means.
His eyes flicker up over your shoulder but the Dagger squad has already moved on to crowd around Rooster at the piano.
You clamp your jaw together as he releases the pool cue and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It makes him look more relaxed than he is.
"Look, whatever this is—whatever you think I am, I'm not." He says this with the realistic conviction of someone who knows that even if it is, you can't. He says it like he’s trying to convince himself.
You’re not quite sure how old he is—barely thirty if you had to guess— but he’s older. Too old. Not to mention fraternization is deeply frowned upon.
"I know," you answer firmly. Because you do. Because even if it isn't, you want it, whatever it is.
He stares down at you with those green eyes, his pupils pinpoint sharp. After a moment he heaves a sigh and releases it, nodding his head. “So we’re in agreement?”
“Yeah,” you answer. “We’re in agreement.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
#top gun maverick#jake seresin x y/n#jake hangman fic#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin#topgun maverick#top gun fanfiction#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fic#jake hangman seresin#top gun maverick hangman#hangman top gun#hangman x reader#hangman imagine#hangman fanfiction#hangman x y/n#hangman x you
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Could you write an Adrien x reader imagine where they’re forced to date by their parents to promote an upcoming fashion collaboration something, and then go from hating each other and being super fake to falling in love for real?
You know what? I postponed this ask waaaay to much. So what did I do? I sat down and took up your challenge. Go and enjoy the story you asked for but I never put the effort to make - until now e.e
warnings? no warnings apply :p
You always thought arranged dates were a relic of the past, something that only happened in old movies or distant cultures. Yet here you were, sitting across from Adrien Agreste, the face of the Agreste fashion empire.
Your parents have arranged this meeting to promote an upcoming collaboration between their brands, hoping the buzz around your "relationship" would skyrocket their sales.
Adrien looked perfect, as always—his blond hair artfully tousled, green eyes bright but distant. Always maintaining the perfect façade. Unlike you, painfully aware of every imperfection and every nervous gesture.
"Let's get one thing straight," Adrien said, breaking the silence. His voice was calm but firm. "We don’t have to like each other, but we do have to make this work."
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance. "Agreed. Let's just get through this."
For the next hour, you both put on a show for the paparazzi lurking outside, sharing forced smiles and rehearsed lines. The whole encounter felt like a poorly scripted play, and you couldn't wait for it to end.
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of public appearances, photo shoots, and meticulously planned dates. Your parents had spared no expense in crafting the perfect narrative: two young heirs, brought together by fate and fashion. But behind the scenes, your interactions with Adrien were cold and apathetic.
One evening, after yet another tedious event, you found yourself walking alone in the Agreste mansion. The luxury of the place was suffocating, each room a reminder of the pressure you were under.
You wandered into the library, seeking solace among the rows of books.
"You like to read?" Adrien's voice startled you.
You turned to find him leaning against the doorway, a curious look on his face. "Yeah," you admitted. "It's one of the few ways I can escape."
He nodded, stepping into the room. "I get that. Sometimes I feel like my whole life is scripted. But I prefer watching anime to get some distraction." And patrolling as Chat Noir, though he wasn’t about to expose his best-kept secret to you.
For a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and it struck a chord within. Maybe you weren't so different after all.
As the days passed, the cracks in your mutual disdain began to show. You still argued over trivial things and maintained a facade of disinterest, but there were moments—small, fleeting moments—when you glimpsed the real Adrien beneath his polished exterior.
One afternoon, you were both at a photoshoot for the collaboration campaign. The theme was a romantic picnic, complete with a vintage blanket and a basket of props. The director called for a break, and you and Adrien found yourselves alone in the park.
"Here," Adrien said, handing you a water bottle. "You look like you could use this."
"Thanks," you replied, surprised by the gesture. "I didn't expect you to be so… thoughtful."
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me."
He hesitated, then said, "Like how terrible I am at cooking. I once set the kitchen on fire trying to make toast."
You laughed, picturing the usually composed Adrien in such a chaotic situation. "Seriously? Toast?"
He grinned, a little sheepishly. "Yeah, it was pretty bad. I had to call the fire department and everything. My father was not impressed."
You chuckled, the tension between you easing a bit. "Well, remind me never to let you near my kitchen."
He laughed along with you, the sound genuine and warm. "Deal. And maybe one day you can teach me how to make toast without causing a disaster."
One day, after a particularly exhausting photoshoot, Adrien and you found yourselves with a rare afternoon off. Deciding to make the most of it, you both ended up in the Agreste mansion's sprawling garden. The setting was beautiful and serene, a perfect escape from the public eye.
As you wandered through the lush greenery, admiring the flowers, you suddenly felt a cold splash of water on your neck. You turned around to see Adrien standing there, a mischievous grin on his face and a small water gun in his hand.
"Did you just...?" you began, but before you could finish, he squirted you again, laughing.
"Lighten up!" he teased. "It's just a bit of water."
You couldn't help but laugh, the unexpected prank breaking through the formality that often hung between you. "Oh, you're going to regret that!" you said, grabbing a nearby watering can and splashing him back.
What ensued was a playful water fight, with both of you dodging and splashing, laughing like carefree kids. It felt liberating to let go and just have fun, forgetting about the pressures and expectations that usually weighed you down.
Finally, drenched and out of breath, you both collapsed onto the grass, still giggling.
"Okay, I have to admit, that was pretty fun," you said, wiping water from your face.
Adrien smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "See? I knew you had it in you."
"Just don't make a habit of it," you warned playfully. "Or I might have to come up with a prank of my own."
"I'd like to see you try," he challenged, his grin widening.
As you lay there, catching your breath, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen Adrien truly relax and let his guard down. It made it more obvious that he's not just a perfect, polished model, but a real person who wants to laugh and have fun.
As the collaboration launch approached, your relationship with Adrien grew deeper. You began to spend more time together, not just for the cameras, but because you genuinely enjoyed each other's company. You talked about everything—your favourite anime, your dreams, your fears, your hopes for the future.
One day, you were both at a charity event for Adrien's school, where he introduced you to his friends. Nino, Marinette, Alya—they were welcoming and kind, and you felt a pang of envy at the close-knit group they formed.
"You're lucky to have such great friends," you said to Adrien as you watched them from a distance.
"I know," he replied, a fond smile on his face. "They keep me grounded."
"Tell me more about them," you urged.
He did, and as he spoke, you saw a different side of him—one that was caring, loyal, and deeply connected to those he loved. It made you like him even more.
The night of the collaboration launch arrived, and the event was a resounding success. The venue was abuzz with excitement, filled with influential guests, dazzling lights, and the perfect blend of glamour and sophistication. Your parents were thrilled, the media couldn't get enough, and every detail had gone off without a hitch.
After a whirlwind of interviews, photos, and obligatory mingling, you and Adrien finally managed to slip away to a quiet balcony overlooking the city. The cool night air was a welcome respite from the heat and noise inside.
"We did it," you said, raising your glass to him. The city lights reflected in your eyes, adding a sparkle that matched your mood.
"Yeah, we did," he agreed, clinking his glass with yours. His smile was genuine, not just for the cameras this time. "But I want to tell you something."
You raised an eyebrow, heart beating, curiosity piqued. "Oh? What's that?"
He took a deep breath, looking out over the city before turning back to you. "I don't want this to end. This whole thing. I know it started as a publicity stunt, but somewhere along the way, it became real for me."
Your heart skipped a beat. "I...". The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. "I actually feel the same way," you admitted, feeling a rush of warmth on your face.
He laughed, a light, joyful sound that made your heart flutter. "Good. Because pretending to be in love with you was starting to feel way too easy."
You blushed, a mix of relief and happiness washing over you. "So, what now?"
Adrien stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands. "Let's stop pretending and see where this takes us. For real this time."
Adrien stepped closer, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Now," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "we make this real."
Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment. You could feel the genuine emotion behind his kiss, a stark contrast to the rehearsed displays of affection you'd shown the world.
As the kiss deepened, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands found their way to your waist, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. The kiss was intoxicating, filled with all the feelings you'd both been holding back.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Adrien rested his forehead against yours. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he confessed, his voice full of warmth.
"Me too," you replied, feeling a flutter of joy.
The pressures of your parents and the fashion world still loomed, but they felt more manageable with Adrien by your side.
#miraculous ladybug#adrien agreste x reader#adrien agreste#chat noir#adrien x reader#chat noir x reader#ml fluff#miracoulous fluff
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The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 3 (Lucien's Version)
Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)
AN: I'm not really sure if I like how this turned out, so if you're new here I promise my writing it typically so much better. ALSO there are so many new faces on here! I wanted to say hello and thank you for the love once again! If you liked this fic and you love drama, forbidden love, protective acotar boys, a bit of a slow burn, and political intrigue you would LOVE and I mean LOVE my fic Young Love and Old Money. I’m still writing it but it’s almost completed! Go check it out you won’t be disappointed!
and of course check out my masterlist
Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right?
Warnings: smut, so much lucien fluff, happy ending for lucien (for once) :)
Word count: 5057
We arrived in the house in silence, the only thing to fill the void was the crackling of the enchanted fire that always sprang to life whenever I walked through the door. My eyes were fixed on the floorboards, studying every grain of wood as I put together what had just happened.
I had told Azriel about the bond, and I did it in anger. I had imagined telling him a million different ways over the past 400 years but never did imagine doing it out of spite. I was just so angry with Elain and her insufferable entitlement that had me seeing red. If anyone should act in such a manner, it should be me, I was a princess after all.
I was furious with Elain there was no doubt about that, but the voice that kept echoing in my mind was Azriel’s. How he yelled at me. I had known him my whole life and I had never once been afraid of him, until today.
As if he was tired of the silence, Lucien brushed his hand under my chin bringing my gaze to his, it wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying. I didn’t even give him a chance to ask if I was alright before I started blubbering.
“Lu I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to. She just got under my skin and I-”
“Shhh” he cooed, pulling me into his chest. “It’s okay, I understand. I didn’t react much better when Azriel started talking.” he chuckled, no doubt remembering how he preemptively called me his wife, the words had rolled off his tongue so effortlessly it was admirable.
“He’s never raised his voice to me like that. Not ever,” I hiccup into his chest, his scent like apples, spiced berries and woodsmoke.
“I should’ve burned him to a crisp for doing so he has no right to treat you that way,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“It’s alright, now that he knows he’ll be entitled to act possessive of me,” I sigh, starting to feel my pulse slow in his arms.
“And I’m not granted that same right? To protect you?” Lucien said, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze.
“Well, you aren’t my mate,” I laugh looking into his eyes.
“And what if that doesn’t matter to me? That we aren’t mates? What if I think that the Cauldron made a terrible, horrible mistake by not binding me to you in every way imaginable?” he confesses.
I search his face for a hint of that playful gleam I saw earlier. The trickster, the silver tongued fox who might be playing me for a fool. But I didn’t find it, for all those fiery eyes bore was sincerity.
“What do you mean Lu?” I ask earnestly.
“Exactly what I said, you aren’t my mate, but…” he stops as if to consider his words. “But I still feel like you are in a way, I feel protective of you. In a way I always have, remember when you scraped your knee climbing that cherry blossom tree in the spring court all those years ago?”
I smile remembering the event, I had wanted some cherry blossoms to braid into my hair. “Yes I do, I still have the scar.” I laughed.
“I know you do, I see it every time I make love to you,” he smiled back. “I remember carrying you to the healers at the spring court from half a mile out. Even then I couldn’t stand the thought of you bearing any sort of scar. What I’m trying to say is that you may not be my mate, but I love you like you’re mine. Because you are, you are mine.”
My breath gets caught in my throat and my eyes go wide at those three little words. The ones I thought I might’ve felt too these past few months.
I love you.
For a year now things between Lucien and I had been strictly situational, just a means to an end. Then I started noticing the little things, his toothbrush next to mine, his laundry in my hamper, him having his own side of the bed. Things changed, but it wasn’t a bad change, which was a new idea for me, as I had always resented change. But not this, this was good.
I thought I had felt that emotion with Lucien before. The night that I came home and he had made us both dinner. The time he bought me the second book in a series just because he noticed I was almost done with the first. The week I was sick he nursed my back to health. I thought I felt love each and every one of those times, but I wasn’t sure. I always teetered on saying it but never caved. But as I stood here in his arms, watching his eyes light up as he said those words to me, I knew I felt the same.
“I-I love you too Lucien,” I said quietly so only he could hear, even though we were the only two people in the house.
He wastes no time bringing his mouth to mine, for so long our kisses had been fervent, needy. Both of us desiring pleasure and the codling that came after it. This kiss was different than all the rest, in it I felt real love. The kind I had only read about in my numerous romance novels. I dreamed of being kissed this way my entire life.
I felt strong hands grip my waist hoisting me up. My legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he started bounding up the stairs, his enthusiasm making me giggle.
“Believe me my love, there is nothing funny about the way I’m going to ravish you tonight,” he smirked before kicking open the bedroom door.
The next day I woke up slowly, not wanting to move from where Lucien had placed me on his chest last night. Both of us took our time to have a steady morning knowing that later in the day there would be chaos. Lucien got up first, always the more responsible of the two of us. When I murmured a sleepy protest he simply chuckled and placed me back in bed, where I snuggled into the warm sheets that smell faintly of him.
When I woke for the second time I smelled that delectable scent of pancakes wafting through the small townhouse. The aroma pulled me from the sheets in a sleepy haze as if my body was controlled by some other worldly force. Slipping on my blue nightgown and padding downstairs into the kitchen I found Lucien half clothed and cooking breakfast for the two of us.
“Blueberry pancakes, not chocolate chip,” he assured me, sprinkling fresh blueberries onto a pancake.
“You remembered,” I sighed leaning against the counter watching him intently. When Lucien had first made breakfast for me I was taken aback by his cooking skills, there was no way that this man was the complete package.
“How could I forget?” he laughed, flipping a pancake. “Last time I made chocolate you were on your cycle and you were so befuddled that you yanked the spatula out of my hand and spanked me with it.”
I slid between him and the stove, “Don’t act like you didn’t like it,” I say my voice low and sultry as my hand slowly reaches for the spatula he’s hidden behind his back.
“You little minx,” he teases when he feels my fingers searching for the torture weapon. The mischievous gleam flashes in his eyes and before I can run he swipes a blob of whipped cream from a nearby bowl onto my cheek.
“Lu!” I scoff going to wipe the cream off my cheek but he grasps my wrist to stop me.
“Fair is fair my dear,” he smirks before licking the sweetness off my cheek. I immediately feel my toes curl at the fiery sensation.
“You are insatiable,” I laughed, moving away from him to properly wipe my face.
I feel a quick slap to my arse with the spatula and I turn to see my fiancé standing with a self satisfied smirk. “Says you little miss ‘more Lucien more!’” he teases recalling how I begged him to touch me last night.
“I knew you would tease me about that!” I shouted, pushing his study form as hard as I could, he didn’t even teeter. “I’ll never beg for you again!”
He smiles, grabbing my left hand and pulling it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the ring adorning it. “There will never be a need,” he smirked. “Now go and set the table, babysitting Nyx duties can’t be put off for forever.”
I had told Rhys and Feyre that I would happily watch Nyx this afternoon. Of course that was before they knew about Lucien, who might’ve gotten away with a pleasant afternoon in my townhouse with a new book but now? He was shackled to me to watch the young one.
While the little High Lord in training was typically quite docile, he had just learned to crawl and had begun flapping his little wings, which meant trouble was becoming the new normal. Which is exactly what had happened today…
“Nyx no!” I shouted as he reached for a heavy book on one of the bookshelves, his tiny wings helping him to gain the extra inch or two of ground he needed.
I grabbed him from underneath his shoulders and brought him into my arms, bouncing him on my hip as his eyes caught the shiny necklace I was wearing. His little hands grabbed at it and I figured it was better than a vase or another heavy book.
“Just imagine till he can actually fly,” Lucien chuckled, coming up behind me.
“That won’t be for quite a while thankfully,” I laugh, bouncing the babe up and down.
“Are you so sure about that? Cassian seems to already be giving him lessons.” he points out.
“I don’t even want to think about a flying toddler,” I scoff and Lucien chuckles behind me.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I could feel his lips curling into a smile.“Is it bad that I’m enjoying watching this?” he admitted.
“Watching what?” I laugh as Nyx puts the necklace in his mouth.
“You, with a baby in your arms,” he said.
“I’ve always wanted children,” I said and a beat of silence passed until I decided to be bold. “Lu, do you think we could ever have children?” I ask, afraid to turn around and possibly see a wary look on his face.
I felt Lucien’s chuckle reverberate behind me, “As many as you would like my darling.” he laughed.
I whipped around with Nyx to search his eyes for a hint of uncertainty, but he seemed happy about the idea, “Really?” I asked in disbelief.
“Of course,” he assured me.
“I want a million just like little Nyx here,” I smile looking at the babe in my arms.
“Minus the wings of course,” Lucien laughs behind me and I pause.
My entire life I had always pictured my children with wings. Small, delicate little things that I would ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ over. I remembered seeing the Illyrian children in Windhaven growing up, I was always so happy when mothers would let me hold their babies, their wings so adorably small. I looked forward to having winged children of my own, but now things had changed.
“What is it my dear?” Lucien asked, breaking me out of my trance.
“Oh it’s nothing, it’s just that when I pictured my children I always figured they would have wings,” I say, pressing a kiss to Nyx’s temple.
As if summoned, Azriel walked in, Rhys and Feyre in tow, signaling that their meeting was over. His eyes flitted to me, no doubt having heard what I had said. Lucien’s hand tightened on my hip.
“How was he? Was he good?” Feyre smiled crossing the room to take her son in her arms once more.
“He was, but those wings are going to give me grief one day,” I smile watching Nyx snuggle into his mothers arms.
“Don’t worry I’m terrified too,” Rhys laughed, approaching his mate and child.
A comfortable silence ensued as I watched the little family reunite, smiles and warmth surrounding them. Lucien’s hand came to my shoulder, as if promising that we too would have that same picture perfect family one day.
“Can we talk?” Azriel asked timidly, taking a step away from the doorway he leaned against. Feyre and Rhys take out of the room, no doubt feeling the change in the atmosphere.
I searched his eyes for a hint of aggression but all I found was remorse, “Yes we may,” I say quietly.
“If you lay one hand on her spymaster I will burn you to ash,” Lucien growled, his hand on my shoulder tightening possessively.
“You have my word that I will not touch her in anger,” Azriel said earnestly, not a hint of teasing or mockery. Instead, a new found respect for Lucien showed in his eyes.
I go to follow Azriel into the other room when I feel Lucien grab my hand pulling me into his broad chest.
“Wait,” he said before slamming his lips to mine. The gesture was so passionate I couldn’t help but let out the slightest of moans as I felt him cradle the back of my head. This wasn’t just a kiss goodbye, it was a display of power to Azriel, letting him know how serious the two of us were. I couldn’t help but feel my lips turn up at Lucien’s sudden daring.
I felt him back away to survey my face, as if looking for any hesitancy to enter into a conversation with Azriel. When he was certain I was comfortable he placed a kiss on my brow, “I’ll be right here if you need me.” he said as I dropped his hand and followed Azriel into Rhys’ study.
The doors to the office closed with a resolute click as Azriel turned to face me, his eyes somber.
“First and foremost I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I behaved the other night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that or said the things I did” he said leaning against the desk a food meter away from me, as if Lucien had scared him from coming any closer.
“It’s alright I forgive you. I shouldn’t have blurted out such an important thing anyways. We were both at fault.” I say earnestly.
Azriel pulls his gaze from his boots to me, “I heard what you said in there, about your children having wings. Did you ever picture that those children would be?” he starts leaving me room to finish the sentence for him.
“Yours? Yes.” I say timidly.
Azriel sighs as if weighing what all this means, “How long have you known?” he prompts.
I think to lie, but it wouldn’t bear well on my soul. It was best to get it all out in the open.
“400 years.” I confess and he curses under his breath. “I knew it the night you danced with me at the solstice ball in the Hewn City.”
“Fuck y/n,” he curses again, turning to brace his hands on the desk behind him and I take a tentative step towards him.
“I’m sorry I never told you, that wasn’t fair to you.” I sigh, but he doesn’t reply so I continue on. “It’s just that every time I thought about it you were pining for Mor and then Elain. I never felt I stood a chance. But you would talk to me about them, and even though it broke my heart to hear how you loved them so, it was better than losing you. I told myself that if I couldn’t have your love I would cherish your friendship, and maybe that was selfish of me but I did it.”
Azriel finally turned from the desk to meet my gaze and I tried to offer him the most sympathetic glance I could.
“I understand why you never told me, but I still wish I had known. Thing’s might’ve been different.” he said, running a hand through his hair.
I pause to consider his words, “Would they be?” I ask.
He looked at me in confusion, like I was dispelling the idea that the sky was blue. I understood his disarray. For thousands of years things had always been the same, mates were mates and that was that. But maybe what Lucien said last night did have merit.
“Are you not happy with Elain?” I prompt him with a light heart, as I finally started to feel some solace in my own words.
“y/n I don’t want to-”
“You do not burden me Az.” I interrupt him, knowing what he was going to say. “Tell me truthfully.”
A blush tints his cheeks as he averts his gaze to his boots once more, “I am happy. I am very happy.” he smiles as if he can’t help it.
“I think it was meant to be this way,” I say honestly watching the shadowsinger reeling in front of me.
“What about you? Are you?”
“Happy?” I ask, glancing to the door where I know Lucien waits for me on the other side. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.” I smile answering him.
“How long have you and him been… you know?” he asks, seemling losing all tension in his body as he sees me at ease.
“Since starfall,” I answered, remembering the first time Lu kissed me.
“A year?!” Az balked, raising his voice in disbelief.
I laugh watching his face drop, “it’s interesting the things you don’t notice when you’re in love,” I wink at him, knowing he was too caught up with Elain to pay any mind to Lu and I.
Azriel shakes his head as if processing this new information before he turns to me again, “And do you love him?” he asks.
I smile remembering last night, “I do, I love him very much.” I answer.
“And does he love you?” Az presses further, as if he needs to tie up all loose ends before he can be at ease with the entire situation.
“I think he made that pretty clear a couple minutes ago,” I laughed, referring to the kiss he gave me.
“Yeah I suppose I got that message loud and clear,” Azriel chuckled as a pause of silence fell over us. “I think… I think in another lifetime we would’ve made each other really happy.”
“Maybe even this lifetime.” I say sadly thinking of what could’ve been. “But I love Lucien, he chose me when I thought no one else would, and maybe I’m making a mistake by marrying him. But somehow it feels like the first right thing I’ve done in the past 400 years.”
“He’s a very lucky man,” Azriel remarked with a certain sadness. “I hope that you will be happy with him,” he finished seemingly giving me his blessing.
“I think it was meant to be this way, don't you?” I ask, finally feeling my heart and my conscious lighten.
“I do,” he smiles before holding his hand out to me. “Friends?” he asks.
I nod clasping my hand in his, “Friends.”
“Let’s get you back to your fiancé before I find myself in a pile of ash on the floor,” Azriel chuckles, putting his hand on the door.
I laugh with him and when the door to the living room opens I find Lucien and Elain hugging.
My heart is caught in my throat as I realize that perhaps Lucien might’ve changed his mind. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. She was his true mate after all and, she was astonishingly beautiful. Maybe I was misled when Azriel and I settled our differences.
Both their heads whipped our way, and Lucien’s smile shined brightly. I was unsure of who that smile was for until he ran over to me, grabbing me by the hips and spinning me around.
“It is done,” Lucien cheered and out of the corner of my eye I saw Azriel throw an arm around Elain’s shoulders.
“What is?” I laughed once my feet were back on the ground.
“I don’t want to wait any longer. I want to call you my wife by sundown.” Lucien said affectionately.
“And why shouldn’t you wait? She’s a princess after all, you should snatch her up while you can,” Elain called out affectionately from Azriel’s side. I couldn’t help but look at the two of them standing there.
A hand snaked its way under my chin taking my attention to him before he planted his lips on mine. “Be mine, forever.” he proposed.
I couldn’t stop the smile that graced my face, “Okay,” I said quietly.
A cheer from Elain erupted behind me and suddenly it felt like all the pieces were falling into place, like everything I had ever wanted for myself had now come true.
The ceremony was short, just like Lucien and I had wanted. However, instead of an elopement it was a small gathering, Cass and Ness, Amren, Mor, Az and Elain and of course Rhys and Feyre were present. I wore my mothers dress and at some point Lu had slipped out to buy me a proper ring, not that I minded the old one.
The rest of the night was filled with drinking and frivolity. The whole family laughing and telling stories, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged with all of them, as I sat on my husband's lap. It wasn’t until many glasses of wine later that I found Lucien carrying me bridal style over the threshold of our home.
“This really isn’t necessary,” I laughed, holding a spare bottle of wine in my hand as he stepped through the doorway, the fireplace roaring to life.
“It’s traditional for a husband to carry his wife over the threshold of their home after the wedding.” he retorted, stepping inside the house and closing the door with his foot.
“For humans not for fae,” I corrected him as he finally set me down on slightly unsteady legs.
“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to carry you,” he laughed, taking the wine from my hand and setting it on a side table by the door.
“You never need an excuse for that,” I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck.
“Well in that case,” he smirks before picking me up again and bounding up our stairs.
My feet don’t hit the floor until we’re in our room, his lips finding mine in an instant. With a wave of my hand I remove my dress, magically placing it back to wherever my dear brother found it. Lucien tossed his shirt over his head so that my hands might wander the plains of his toned chest. His hands find my hips pushing me away ever so slightly so that he can see me.
His eyes graze the expanse of my bare body and I’m suddenly frustrated by the fact that I’m the only one laid bare in the room.
“My wife,” he says, kissing my lips, pulling me closer. “My, beautiful, beautiful wife.” he kisses me again, smiling like he can’t help it.
I try to speak but he deepens the kiss once more, robbing me of words as he uses his body to overpower me with sheer force. His hands find my arse, giving it a squeeze before lifting my feet off the ground and tossing me onto our bed.
In a turn of events, my eyes wander the expanse of his body. Toned from years and years of training. His eyes sparkle with amusement and suddenly I feel like a sitting duck awaiting his mouth on me once more.
He falls onto the bed, hovering over me as he places yet another kiss on my lips. I use his imbalance to knee his hips towards the bed, my body weight pinning him beneath me as his eyes look up to me with pure lust. Large hands dance up my sides as if to encourage any next move I might make.
“My handsome, cunning, silver tongued husband,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his bare chest. My mouth trails over his chest, to his shoulders, and his collar bones. Needing every part of him on my lips. It isn’t until I get to his neck that he lets loose a groan and flips us back over.
“While I enjoy the sight of you pleasuring yourself on my cock wife, I shall be the one to take you tonight,” he smirks, biting my neck hard, no doubt trying to leave his mark there.
“Oh Lu,” I breathe, feeling my body come alive over his lips and wandering hands.
My eyes shoot open as I feel his breath hovering over my sex, the warmth causing my blood to burn.
“What a lucky male a I am to be able to taste this sweet cunt whenever I please,” he smiled mischievously before licking a stripe up my center.
I let out a breathy moan as he continues to lick and suck every inch of me. His hands parting my thighs warm and hard as he circles my clit with his tongue. My fingers thread through his hair pulling him impossibly close, earning a groan from him that reverberates through me.
“Like fucking honeysuckle,” he moans before trailing more kisses up my body.
I slink down moving towards where his cock peeks out of his untied breeches. Needing to feel the weight of him in my mouth, needing to hear the whimpers of pleasure on his tongue but he stops me.
“No not tonight,” he fusses pushing me back down into the mattress.
“But Lu-”
“No buts” he interrupts. “I want to pleasure my new wife tonight. Let me have that,” he moans silencing any protest I might have with a kiss as he slides home.
The all consuming feeling of being taken by him as me gasping for breath as my back arches off the bed. My tits rising towards his mouth and he easily grasps a hardened nipple between his lips, sucking eagerly.
“Lucien,” I breathe feeling him all around me.
“I love you,” he rasped, thrusting deeper. “My wife I love you.” he grunted watching where he slammed into me with intensity.
My hand came to cup his face bringing his eyes to mine. My fingers trace the scar over his golden eye as I see the emotion flood his russet colored eye. “I love you too, husband,” I whisper to him.
A gleam finds his eyes and he drives into me harder, the sound of skin slapping reverberating throughout the room. It was as if me uttering his new title spurred him on.
We’re a tangled mess of sweat slick limbs and ragged breaths as I feel him deeper and deeper inside of me. My nails scraping his back, trying to find purchase or something to anchor me as pleasure rips through my body. His pants become whimpers as I feel myself tightening around him.
“Always so perfectly tight,” he curses, driving through my tight heat.
His words are enough to have me falling apart under him, my legs shaking from pleasure as I cry his name.
“Lucien oh gods!” I cry, my hands no doubt leaving marks in his skin.
“That’s right my love, cum for me,” he groans before sputtering himself. “Fuck,” he mutters before I feel him burry his seed deep inside me.
His whimpers fill the space between my neck and shoulder as he finishes inside me. Once he’s spent he rolls over taking me with him so I’m cuddled into his side.
“I’m so unbelievably happy,” he whispers into the world, still coming down from his high.
“I’m told that’s often a side effect of an orgasm,” I laugh running a hand up and down his chest, soothing him.
“No,” he says breathlessly, turning so that he is hovering over me once more. “I’m unbelievably happy because of you. You have not only given me your love, but you’ve given me a house, and a family. I never thought I would have those things. You are… you are everything and I promise to be the most amazing husband I can be.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow.
“You already are,” I smile, pulling him into another heated kiss.
It would undoubtedly be like this for many years to come. However long the Cauldron allowed me to live, I knew I would always have a place here, with Lucien. And maybe things didn’t go as I had always planned, but gods was I happy, and more importantly I was loved.
Lucien Vanserra chose me, not because I was his mate, or because the world told him to. No, he chose me because he loved me, even when it wasn’t convenient for him, and I chose him too. I would choose him until the end of my days.
Epilogue: Five Years Later
“Careful my darling,” Lucien fussed, helping to lower me down onto a sofa.
“Lu I’m pregnant not fatally injured,” I laugh waving him away as I rest my hands on my ever growing bump.
“Of course, pregnancy is a walk in the park, I’ll remember that next time you beat me for serving you chocolate pancakes instead of blueberry,” he chides, pulling a blanket over my lap. “I spend a year telling myself you like blueberries and this little one comes along and all of the sudden you want chocolate.”
“Pregnancy cravings are no joke my friend,” Rhysand laughs from the adjacent couch. “I find it best to satisfy your wife’s cravings as soon as possible before she asks for another ridiculous request.”
“Especially when one’s wife is a princess,” Lucien teases, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“You married me!” I protest.
“And I thank the Cauldron every day that I did,” Lucien smiles, pressing a kiss to my lips finally.
Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)
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Higuruma was a nice colleague. Not the “meaningless compliments” or “small talk about the weather to fill the silence” nice, but he’d always let you steal his smokes whenever you both found yourselves outside on a break.
It started on happenstance, on one fateful day that you forgot to pack your cigs into your bag before you left the house. You asked for a smoke, he gave you a death on a stick — as you’d both call it — and that was the day you both had your first actual conversation. Higuruma was usually a guy to keep to himself, sitting silently by his own desk and only getting himself up to go on these occasional breaks.
You learned that most of his diet consisted of a variety of instant noodles and terrible soda. That he’d prefer to arrive early in order to avoid the small talk sessions with the firm’s gossipy secretaries. That he’d usually get home after his work days to a mostly empty house that he never bothered to furnish beyond a couch, a bed, a desk and some bookshelves.
After a while, you stopped buying cigarettes completely, and would — albeit not proudly — keep a watchful eye to see whenever he was going out for his smoke break, just so you could count a minute before stepping out to meet him. He never found that — how you’d always coincidentally go out to smoke at the same time as he did — to be suspicious, or if he did, Higuruma never asked about it.
And then, after a while, his shoulders grew looser, his smiles were more deliberate and he’d even crack a few jokes here and there — terrible ones, ones you had no idea why you were laughing at.
On one particularly cold night, you found him smoking by himself, as he usually was, completely bundled up. The cold weather would get to him most days, you noticed, and picked his cigarette from his mouth to take a drag.
“You should buy your own cigarettes,” he remarked with no chide.
“Not when I can keep smoking yours,” you spiritedly replied while handing it back to him. “Gotta save some money.”
“By smoking my whole pack?”
“Absolutely.”
Higuruma smiled gently towards you before leaning over the guardrail with both of his elbows.
“Well, I might need to get a promotion then. To fund both of our addictions.”
Even when he complained, it wasn’t more than a half hearted grievance, and he surely never stopped you from picking his smokes directly from his mouth. Not when you did it so casually, inspiring the intimacy he’d like to share with you.
Someday, perhaps. And over more than just some cigarettes.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#higuruma hiromi#higuruma#higuruma x reader#higuruma x you#higuruma x y/n#higuruma fluff#jjk higuruma#fuku writes
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Saw a post about Mushang and it's similarities to Liushen, then thought about how interesting it would be to have those in the same fic — then I went down a rabbit hole that included Mobing and Gongzhi (for some reason?)
so... here's this plotbunny, it's really fucking long though, sorry!
(oops, it posted before I finished, sorry about that, it's fixed now!)
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Shang Qinghua knew, theoretically, that his death would be at the hands of Mobei-jun. He knew that when he saved him, he knew that all these years of serving him, but... it's finally sunk in. That Mobei-jun is going to kill him. That the bruises and frostbite and broken bones are all leading up to his death. He wraps another cut and thinks, somewhat deliriously... that maybe he should've killed Mobei-jun on that mission.
Shen Qingqiu knew his fate — the fate of the Scum Villain. He knew that any goodwill he'd built up was destroyed the moment he pushed Luo Binghe into the Abyss. Knows that all those years of treating him well, only to betray him, may have actually made the situation worse. He thinks back on that day, suddenly realizing that he probably could've made it look like an accident — he could've had Binghe "accidentally" pushed into the Abyss during the chaos, could've faked a Without-A-Cure flare up to excuse his lack of rescue. Maybe, if he'd done that, Binghe would've had mercy.
Their weekly meetings become stilted, their tea goes cold, their snacks uneaten. They don't argue about Airplane's terrible writing, they don't even reminisce over AC or the internet. The air is filled with unease, polluting each of their peaks... until they both snap. They confide in each other, cursing the System, cursing their choices, and try to plan — to dig themselves out of these holes they've dug. The clock is ticking for Binghe's return. Shang Qinghua's wounds are getting worse — he doesn't know if his death will be expedited or delayed at this rate.
And so, they argue and plan and eventually come to a few conclusions...
Shang Qinghua needs the protection of the sect. Needs to confess and beg for Yue Qingyuan's protection as he abandons Mobei-jun. Needs the protection of someone Mobei-jun had no chance of defeating.
Shen Qingqiu, likewise, needs protection — but it's written that Luo Binghe cannot lose, not to anyone in the sect... no one, except for Liu Qingge, who didn't live long enough to fight him, who didn't have a single canonical fight for the world to measure him against. The War God. The one person that wasn't bound by the narrative.
They decide to deal with Shang Qinghua first — Binghe isn't scheduled to leave the Abyss for years, after all. Mobei-jun, however, is a current threat. Every meeting leaves Shang Qinghua with more and more injuries, injuries that the original goods never had to deal with. They don't know if this Mobei-jun is going to follow PIDW's timeline. They don't know how long it'll take before he beats Shang Qinghua to a bloody pulp. After some arguing, it's agreed to come clean to Mu Qingfang first — to test the waters. He's been treating all of Shang Qinghua's wounds since they were disciples, and he'd be good back up if Yue Qingyuan didn't immediately cave to Shen Qingqiu's demands. Of course, Shang Qinghua wouldn't tell the complete truth — no one needed to know that Shang Qinghua spared Mobei-jun because he was hot — but he wouldn't alter the story too much. Better to keep to small lies, easy to keep consistent.
If it goes poorly... they'll just run. They'll abandon the friends and family they've found here, and they'll use whatever plot devices they can find to disguise themselves. The only reason it's not Plan A is because Mobei-jun knows Shang Qinghua's qi signature, and the only artifacts they know that can change qi signatures are... annoying to acquire and dangerous to use.
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Mu Qingfang isn't surprised when Shang-shixiong shows up with various injuries, absolutely covered in demonic qi. It's routine at this point to sit him down, perform a check up, and ask questions he knows won't be answered. So he does. He heals the cuts and bruises, sets and heals the bones, and does his best to calm the eternally-stressed qi lest his shixiong have a deviation. He asks how this happened, expecting the usual evasive answer (hating that his shixiong is being abused while he does nothing but fix the aftermath), and...
and Shang Qinghua answers.
His shixiong, after years– decades of asking, stutters out an explanation. That he's been a spy for Mobei-jun since that mission where he was the only survivor. That he did it because he was scared, that by the time he was powerful enough to do anything about it, Mobei-jun was a king, and it would probably start a war if he killed him. He says Mobei-jun's been hurting him more often, that he's terrified he's going to die, and Mu Qingfang carefully soothes his shixiong's qi as tears start to fall and he stutters out his plan to team up with Shen-shixiong to tell Zhangmen-shixiong, to beg for forgiveness — for protection, even if it means sitting in a prison cell. He just doesn't want to die.
And in the face of his sobbing shixiong, constantly over-worked and terrified, Mu Qingfang promises to help. Because what else can he do? Turn his back on the shixiong he's been watching slowly fall apart over the decades? The shixiong he's watched go from introverted to downright anxious — the shixiong he's had to pick up and put back together with increasing frequency. Even if he hadn't come clean, Mu Qingfang would've had to have done something soon, with the way the injuries were increasing in severity. He's just glad Shang-shixiong told him first, so they could approach the sect leader together. It wouldn't have been good for his shixiong's stress levels if he'd demanded the sect leader interrogate him to figure out what was going on.
So, the two meet up with Shen Qingqiu and demand a meeting with Yue Qingyuan, who, as always, immediately makes time for Shen-shixiong. Shang Qinghua stutters through his story again, Mu Qingfang regulating his qi, and Shen Qingqiu bringing out a particular icy glare whenever Yue Qingyuan looks like he's going to interrupt. Zhangmen-shixiong's face is carefully blank by the time Shang Qinghua finishes speaking, at which point, Mu Qingfang decides to speak up.
He tells Zhangmen-shixiong of the countless injuries over the decades, of his certainty of their demonic origin, even during that first meeting. He tells the sect leader that if Shang Qinghua is going to be punished for protecting himself, for preventing a war, then he'll need to punish Mu Qingfang too. As a head disciple, he should've reported any suspicious injuries to his shizun, as a Peak Lord, he should've immediately informed Zhangmen-shixiong of Shang Qinghua's continuous injuries and of their suspiciously demonic origin. He says that he has even less of an excuse than Shang Qinghua, who was genuinely afraid for his life and the well-being of his sect. Mu Qingfang simply didn't want to make the situation worse for him, ignoring all rules and expectations that would've had the situation cleared up sooner.
Shen Qingqiu, clearly approving of Mu Qingfang's ardent defense, decides to continue, stating that the sect hasn't experienced an increase in failed missions or other sabotage. He explains that, clearly, Shang Qinghua had been doing his best to protect the sect, even under such strenuous circumstances. He sees no reason to be harsh towards someone who'd been a child when it started, and who was so thoroughly terrified that he only approached Shen Qingqiu, as a friend, because he could see he'd end up dead sooner or later due to the beatings.
Yue Qingyuan lets them all say their piece, and sighs. He sees Shang Qinghua's terror, and he understands both Mu Qingfang and Shen Qingqiu's arguments. He says that this was a breach of trust, that ordinarily this would call for execution, but... Shang Qinghua has not caused harm to the sect, and had he continued, the only harm would've been to himself. As long as Mu Qingfang and Shen Qingqiu are willing to bear the consequences, Yue Qingyuan will allow this to be swept under the rug, never spoken of again.
Mu Qingfang and Shen Qingqiu are quick to agree, and Shang Qinghua's punishment is to update the sect's defense arrays... left unsaid was the expectation that Mobei-jun never be able to enter the sect again. And so, the matter is dealt with, and Shang-shixiong looks like he's had the weight of the world lifted off him once the arrays are complete.
So long as he doesn't leave the sect without a qi-cloaking artifact (courtesy of the Artifact Peak), he'll be safe. Mu Qingfang feels... thrilled, to know his shixiong won't have to suffer anymore.
-
Liu Qingge notices Shen Qingqiu's nerves as he cleanses his meridians. It's an unexpected change of pace, given the dour mood the man's been in for... months, at this point. The session finishes in silence, but there's an air of anticipation that has Liu Qingge... loitering, just a bit.
Eventually, Shen Qingqiu lets out a sigh, pours him tea, and starts to talk — quietly, as if ashamed of his words. He shares that, during the chaos at the end of the Immortal Alliance Concerence, his prized disciple broke a seal. It had been placed on him at birth, presumably by one of his parents, and revealed him to be a heavenly demon. He explains that he panicked at the sight of the seal, understanding what it meant, but his disciple looked just as shocked as him. He understood that his disciple was a demon, that he clearly didn't know that fact, and given the presence of multiple sects and the ongoing catastrophe... his disciple would die, if anyone else stumbled upon him.
Liu Qingge listens, as Shen Qingqiu shares that he pushed his own disciple into the Endless Abyss. His grief makes more sense now, Liu Qingge thinks. It's not just the grief of a teacher losing their favorite student, it's also the guilt of pushing that student into danger, even if it's to protect them. Even he would've hesitated to cut down the disciple, if he'd formed such a bond and the child clearly had no idea what was going on.
They continue sitting in silence, and Liu Qingge is almost ready to leave, before Shen Qingqiu speaks up again. He explains that Luo Binghe was a heavenly demon, and the last one — presumably his father — required the collaboration of multiple sects to seal away. There's a chance that Luo Binghe will survive the Abyss, and escape it.
There's a muted fear in Shen Qingqiu's eyes, as he states there's a chance Luo Binghe will hunt him down. That, given a demon's propensity for overreactions, he may take the entire sect with him. It wasn't like he explained his reasoning, when he pushed the child into the Abyss. All he'd know is that his caring shizun saw he was a demon and immediately pushed him into hell.
And Liu Qingge can understand that fear. Heavenly Demons were strong, too strong for even him to be confident in facing them alone. Even if this one was a child, if it managed to escape the Abyss... it would be too strong for Shen Qingqiu to survive. There's an obvious solution then: train until Shen Qingqiu is strong enough to at least run away.
He says that they'll go on hunts together, so Shen Qingqiu can fight those beasts he knows so much about, to get in practice as they look for any artifact that might help him. He says they'll spar, and he'll even let him face the Bai Zhan disciples for variety. Shen Qingqiu is... reluctant, but quickly realizes that it's probably his best option. With the condition that they return to the sect at least once a month to check on his disciples, he agrees to Liu Qingge's proposal.
They'll both train, and Liu Qingge won't let him out of sight for even a moment — not with a heavenly demon after his head.
-
The months afterwards are... peaceful.
An Ding grows used to the sight of Mu Qingfang, who arrives just before dawn every morning to share breakfast with Shang Qinghua before they must start work. They do each other's hair and gossip, sharing whatever happened the day before as they get ready. Without the constant fear, and with Mu Qingfang's help taming his curls (as the only other one in the sect with curly hair), the sect slowly comes to realize that Shang Qinghua is a total knockout, actually, it was just hidden behind frizzy hair, eyebags, and his constant terrified hunching.
There are still bad days, of course, where Mu Qingfang has to insist he delegate his work to his head disciple, or where Shang Qinghua ends up on Qian Cao in the middle of the night having a panic attack, but... they're growing rarer as time passes. Qian Cao learns to turn their heads when Shang Qinghua arrives with an early shipment or unexpected, expensive goods. They learn to mind their business when they see him comfort their Shizun after a particularly challenging day.
It doesn't really surprise anyone when they start courting. The only surprise is that Shang Qinghua is the one that started it, but even that is less shocking now than it would've been the year before. An Ding is happy that their shifu finally looks safe and healthy (he actually stops working at a reasonable hour now, even if it is still after sunset), and Qian Cao is glad their shizun has someone of his own to vent to (given the stress of his job and the various struggles that come with it).
As for Qing Jing, they're absolutely thrilled that their shizun isn't moping anymore. The loss of Binghe hit them hard too, but seeing Shen Qingqiu make the effort to go on hunts made it easier for them to move on too. They miss him, when he's gone, but he always returns with treats from various villages, and a week's worth of stories and lessons to impart. He's even compiled his own bestiary! Ning Yingying has taken to giving Liu Qingge sweets as a thank you for helping her shizun, and Ming Fan grows more comfortable in his old role as head disciple, with how his shizun actually sees him and compliments him, rather than missing Binghe. The Bamboo House is still... a very hard place to be. Without Shizun, it's empty, and even with his recovery, the vacant room seems to bring back his grief.
Seeing this, Qing Jing is both relieved and absolutely pissed when Liu Qingge offers up his spare room instead. Shen Qingqiu accepts, and it's become common for him to join the Bai Zhan disciples in their morning exercises before returning to teach on Qing Jing. They are, understandably, absolutely pumped to have another Peak Lord around to fight (on top of their own being around more often! Shifu teaches them more! And is he getting better at it? What miracles!)
They settle into a routine, and, though it takes an unexpectedly long time, they announce their courting to Yue Qingyuan, who looks both heartbroken and extremely happy for them. Qing Jing gives Liu Qingge a surprisingly scary shovel talk (though he's mostly amused, he respects their dedication), but are overall very happy that their shizun is happy. Bai Zhan is just cheering that another Peak Lord has basically taken up permanent residence, since Shen Qingqiu stays in Liu Qingge's house rather than the bamboo house. They enjoy the unique challenge he gives, and some of the braver ones tell their shifu that he better treat him right or they'll try to take him for themselves (he went particularly hard on them after that, but they had zero regrets — Shen-shibo is a catch after all!)
Meanwhile, Mobei-jun is... frustrated and heartbroken. He can no longer enter Cang Qiong Sect, and he can no longer find Shang Qinghua's qi signature. He doesn't know why — was Shang Qinghua caught? Is he dead? Why else would he just... randomly leave? He's stuck with Mobei-jun for decades, why would he leave now? What was the catalyst? Was he truly so uncomfortable with Mobei-jun's courting? Why wouldn't he just say so!?
The questions leave him angry and frustrated, with no way to get answers. It's only after he enters Luo Binghe's service (an embarrassing loss — would he have done better with Qinghua's advice?) that he finally gets... something of an answer. A potential explanation.
Luo Binghe has no friends in the demon realm, trusts absolutely no one, but he's still a kind person. When he sees that Mobei-jun is frustrated, all it takes is that curly haired boy (a face so similar to Qinghua's) asking for all the questions to come spilling out. Whether it takes hours or minutes, Mobei-jun doesn't know, all he remembers is the lesson from that conversation:
Humans court differently. Constant physical bombardment is known as abuse.
And Mobei-jun is sick.
He hurt Qinghua. He drove away the one man that stuck with him through everything, just because he couldn't be bothered to double check that his courting would be understood. According to Luo Binghe... it was a miracle Shang Qinghua hadn't left sooner. And the worst part? Mobei-jun can't right this wrong. He can't explain himself. Because Cang Qiong has new wards, and Shang Qinghua has figured out how to make himself thoroughly disappear, even though Mobei-jun does receive word when the Peak Lord is spotted during a trade deal. He can't get Qinghua back. There's nothing he can do.
So he stays by Luo Binghe's side. His curly hair, his similar face... these days, Mobei-jun curses himself for not digging into Shang Qinghua's history. For this boy is an orphan, a street rat, and now it would be near impossible to find out his true relation to Shang Qinghua, given that no one knew which humans Tianlang-jun had bed. It doesn't truly matter, whether he is a cousin, brother, or nephew, Mobei-jun will right his wrongs through Shang Qinghua's kin, unable to reach the man himself.
-
When Luo Binghe leaves the Demon Realm, he goes to Huan Hua, and things progress pretty much as they did in canon, with Shen Qingqiu running, absolutely fucking terrified, being force fed blood, and agreeing to be held in the Water Prison to avoid blowback on the sect. Only difference is that Liu Qingge tried to kill LBH, which almost caused an incident with Huan Hua, because no one believed he was a demon. In the water prison, Luo Binghe sees... a ring. He knows his shizun never wore that before, so he asks about it. Not wanting to put Liu Qingge in even more danger, Shen Qingqiu stays silent.
Gongyi Xiao helps Shen Qingqiu escape, and things continue to progress. When Liu Qingge squares up to fight Luo Binghe, he notices him wearing a ring, threaded onto a necklace, and so similar to Shen Qingqiu's. It doesn't take him long to process the fact that his beloved shizun is... already taken.
By Liu fucking Qingge.
He's thoroughly pissed off, he goes to attack, but pauses when he sees his shizun grip Liu-shishu tightly, shaking like a leaf. He looks like he's preparing to take his husband and run. The thought is... off-putting. Because Liu Qingge is the War God of Bai Zhan Peak. Why doesn't Shizun have faith in the man he married?
So he asks.
And Shen Qingqiu doesn't answer.
Liu Qingge still hasn't relaxed, ready to attack at any moment, and Luo Binghe is running out of patience.
"If Shizun finds this demon despicable enough to throw into the Abyss, he should let his husband kill it."
"That's not why he did it."
Liu Qingge's words throw him off balance. He expected the man to be shocked, hearing that his loving husband had done such a thing (maybe cause a rift in their relationship), he expected, maybe, to be attacked for being so disrespectful.
Liu Qingge then explains, because Shen Qingqiu is terrified into silence.
And Luo Binghe is crushed. Shizun threw him into the Abyss... to save him? Shizun was scared for his safety?
And suddenly Luo Binghe feels sick, when he remembers what he's done. How he hurt Shizun, who was too scared to answer. Who just wanted to protect him, only to realize later that he wasn't thinking straight — that his words were twisted in his effort to get Luo Binghe into the safest place possible in that moment: the Endless Abyss. The shizun that believed in his capabilities enough to be afraid that he'd come seeking revenge.
The fight drains out of him, Liu Qingge doesn't relax, but Shen Qingqiu behind him looks just the slightest bit more curious than terrified. Luo Binghe pulls out a note, written from Mobei-jun to Shang Qinghua, and drops it onto the roof. "This disciple apologizes to Shizun. Please ensure this message gets to Shang-shishu." He uses Xin Mo to teleport to a different roof, staying just long enough to see Liu Qingge hand the note to Shen Qingqiu, who collapsed bonelessly into his side.
He goes to the Northern Desert, rather than the Southern Kingdom. He arrives in the sitting area of Mobei-jun's quarters, and plops himself into a seat. He thinks, and thinks, and he's feeling absolutely awful by the time Mobei-jun arrives. He takes one look at Luo Binghe's disheveled state, and takes the seat next to him.
They talk.
Mobei-jun is a surprisingly comforting presence. He'd always listened and offered advice, but Luo Binghe didn't think he'd have the patience for talking him through... whatever the hell this is. Heartbreak? He isn't sure.
It helps though, and Luo Binghe feels much lighter. Mobei-jun had already promised to never darken Cang Qiong's doorstep, to never go anywhere near Shang Qinghua again, after what he'd done... Luo Binghe would just have to do the same. Even if all he wanted was to go back to Qing Jing, to his room in the Bamboo House... but Shizun is married now, there's no way he'd allow Luo Binghe to stay there permanently.
So he just... stays in the Demon Realm. He's an emperor now, surely Shizun wouldn't want him neglecting that duty? And even if he would've liked Shizun's advice... Mobei-jun would have to do. He had experience, and he's been nothing but helpful. Decision made, Luo Binghe embraces his status as the Demon Emperor, and gives it his full attention.
Without him, Shen Qingqiu's trial falls apart, even as the Palace Master accuses Liu Qingge of killing Luo Binghe. There's not enough concrete evidence for Shen Qingqiu's crimes, and the character defenses from the sect and his husband all speak louder than Qiu Haitang's slander. Even if Liu Qingge was in extremely hot water with Huan Hua, they couldn't prove he'd done anything either.
Shen Qingqiu delivers Mobei-jun's note to Mu Qingfang, asking him to be there when Shang Qinghua read it, because who knew what was in it. He agrees, and they read it as soon as possible, to get it over with.
It's an apology, with an explanation of their different cultures and a promise to never bother him again. It's a promise to right his wrongs through Luo Binghe, who he assumes to be related to Shang Qinghua through the boy's mother. It's short and blunt, and Shang Qinghua is... conflicted. He loves Mu Qingfang, and honestly, couldn't even dream of a life without him, but... Mobei-jun was his dream man. Thinking like that... perhaps it was for the best that they didn't end up together. The reality could never live up to the expectation.
More importantly, is him remembering his half-sister in this life: Xi-jie. Who had suddenly cut contact with him completely, and who he'd never managed to track down afterwards, not having known her full name. Shang Qinghua is crushed, to realize the protagonist was that close to being given a better life. Had Su Xiyan managed to contact him at any point, he would've taken her son in in a heartbeat. Mu Qingfang consoles him, and they decide, jointly, that it was for the best if he didn't pursue that relationship. Not with Mobei-jun promising to stick by the boy, and not with the way he'd treated Shen Qingqiu.
And everyone just... moves on with their lives.
Mu Qingfang and Shang Qinghua are happy together; they have three kids that get absolutely spoiled by their disciples, and they take care of each other, ensuring neither overworks too severely. Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu, without the threat of Binghe's return hanging over them, relax more. They enjoy peaceful days with the Qing Jing disciples, they have fun jointly beating up the Bai Zhan disciples and teaching them new moves, and their hunts aren't nearly as battle-focused as they were before, giving Shen Qingqiu a chance to study the beasts rather than immediately going to fight them.
Luo Binghe and Mobei-jun are rarely apart and treat each other as equals in all things. They value the other's advice when implementing policies, and they will each jump to the other's defense, whether it be physically or through words. It surprises absolutely no one when their affair is found out — at first a convenient way to control Xin Mo, eventually morphing into a proper relationship. They're the rulers of the demon realm, they need not abide by the rules, but... Luo Binghe enjoys planning the wedding, and Mobei-jun can't deny him that, even if it meant dealing with the paperwork of technically merging the two kingdoms but also not. Their broken hearts have long been mended by each other, and it's no surprise when they have six children, close-knit and loving, like the family they wished they'd had sooner.
-
Tianlang-jun rotted away, despite Zhuzhi-lang's best efforts. His last act was to give Zhuzhi-lang enough energy to sustain his human form indefinitely. He is purposeless, and alone, and he sits beside his uncle's corpse for far longer than he should have. There's nothing left for him, not with his uncle gone.
So he exits the cave, and he sits under a tree, out in the open. He is very clearly a demon within Huan Hua territory, so it wouldn't take long for a cultivator to stumble upon him and put him out of his misery. Sure enough, in the middle of his patrol, Gongyi Xiao sees a snake demon just... sitting there. He doesn't look hostile, nor does he look like he's going to move.
He also just... looks kinda pathetic.
So, Gongyi Xiao makes a decision. He can't, in good conscience, leave it there. If he does, and it attacks someone, that's his fault. He also can't just kill it if it's not even doing anything. So he decides to... initiate conversation.
It takes a while for Zhuzhi-lang to bother properly responding, but once he does, they get along quite well. He shares stories about his and his uncle's journies through the human realm, reminiscing as he starts to process his grief. Gongyi Xiao decides, maybe this demon isn't that bad actually, and before they know it, it's sun down and Gongyi Xiao is very late.
They meet daily, with Gongyi Xiao taking on more patrols than usual to make sure his demon is doing alright. Eventually, though, pieces of Zhuzhi-lang's story start to... click. They conflict with things he's been told by his shizun. Maybe Zhuzhi-lang is misremembering in his grief, but... he's concerned enough to start investigating on his own.
He finds a lot of dirt on the Old Palace Master, most of it completely unrelated to Su Xiyan, which is what he was actually trying to investigate. Eventually, he grows so disgusted with the sheer amount of crimes the old man has committed that he decides to just... start a coup. He's well-liked, so it's easy enough to get people on his side — it's even easier when he starts spreading rumors and has all of the man's misdeeds printed into a fairly popular book (more than a few publishing houses were burned down because of it, oops). He didn't... intend to replace the old man, but that's what happened and, hey, now he can bring his demon home and no one can fight him over it, yes sect leaders, he's perfectly sane, thank you.
Zhuzhi-lang learns that he's just as attracted to competence and beauty as Tianlang-jun, he just prefers his with a side of kindness rather than tsundere. He also finds it incredibly funny that everyone just... pointedly ignores his presence. A demon he may be, but their sect leader wanted him there, so there he would stay. The whole scenario brings to mind the forbidden romances his uncle loved to read about. As he settles in, watching Gongyi Xiao overhaul Huan Hua Palace and all its greedy rules, he thinks his uncle would want to see how this story ends.
-
AND THAT'S IT! My wrists hurt and i accidentally posted before it was done, lmao, but yeah. Feel free to write this, I feel like I'd start it and never finish lol
#mushang#liushen#mobing#gongzhi#svsss#mxtx#mxtx svsss#mu qingfang#shang qinghua#liu qingge#shen qingqiu#mobei jun#luo binghe#gongyi xiao#zhuzhi lang
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Jeon Jungkook Fic Rec List 3....
°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°
Series :
Code of conduct || mafia!jungkook x fem!reader | mafia au || @go1denjeon
Summary : jeon jungkook lived by a certain code: never associate yourself with the mins but when he set his eyes on you, he may just have to break it.
My love is here || jungkook x f reader | best friend au | unrequitedlove au || @solemnreads
Summary : "You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened."
Candles and flames || Jungkook x reader royal!au || @taegularities
Summary: wasn’t supposed to be yours. His foolery wasn’t supposed to target you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Down bad || bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader | college au || @2hightocare
Summary : Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.
Curse me foolish Destiny || beast! jungkook x fairy! Reader | beauty and the beast au || @dat-town
Summary : Once upon a time there was an arrogant king warning a proud princess that both of their nations would lose this war if they didn’t cooperate. What an irony that after all the mistakes he made, he was right about this.
Your eyes tell || artist jungkook x lawyer reader | soulmate au | lawyer au || @angellesword
Summary : You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?
☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆
One-shot :
This mortal coil || Alpha!Jungkook x Unspecified Wolf!Reader | werewolf au || @jinfizz
Summary: Some might say that being in love with your best friend is the single worst thing that can happen to you. That’s the least of your problems, though, because you’re still waiting to find your fated mate, you’re not getting any younger, and Jungkook is painfully, tragically human. Little do you know, your laundry list of problems is about to get a little bit longer–because there’s more to Jungkook than meets the eye.
Lost and found || Jungkook x reader | unrequited love au || @kooktrash
Summary : your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.
Silent treatment || Jungkook x reader | Established relationship au || @thebangtancloud
Summary : You ruin the surprise he has planned for you and it's entirely his fault. Alternatively, Jungkook's silent treatment backfires terribly.
Cotton candy || werewolf!jungkook x witch!reader | werewolf au || @velocitae
Summary : your lure for fairies turned out to be a soulmate potion and you accidentally used it on a werewolf.
Melomaniac : Part 1 - Part 2 || Two-shot | punk!jungkook x reader | band au || @jungkxook
Summary : you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because he’s supposed to be your best friend and nothing more. worst part of it all is that you know he’s in love with you too.
Easy || Jungkook x reader | college!au |fuckboy!au | bet!trope || @itsamejin
Summary : Date you, win a bet, get his rent paid off. Sounds promising enough, right? Jungkook should’ve known that his ambitions would end in disaster, but even if he did, that still wouldn’t have stopped him from pursuing you.
Seven storms || Jungkook x reader | forbidden love au || @wintaerbaer
Summary : As a young woman of considerable wealth, it has always been your father's expectation that you would marry one of the local aristocrats once you came of age. Your family's stable hand? Certainly not an option.
Fifth wish || Jungkook x reader | unrequited love au | bodyguard au || @jiminrings
Summary : jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead?
Wishing for you || Two-shot | Jungkook x reader | Established relationship au || @kookiestarlight
Summary : you and your husband decide to finally start trying for a baby. It should be easy enough, you thought. But it turns out getting pregnant is a lot harder than you expected.
Not so bossy || d1 soccer player!jungkook x reader | soccer au | Established relationship au || @jungkookschin
Summary : An irksome feeling infests Jungkook's system when his girlfriend lets him know that she can't meet up after not seeing him for three weeks.
Babbling curse || Slytherin jungkook x Gryffindor reader | hogwarts au || @btsinned
Summary : Jungkook and Y/N, rivals at Hogwarts, made a daring bet: loser of the upcoming Quidditch match faces the Babbling Curse, exposing their darkest secret.
Lucky number 7 || husbandJK x wifeOC named Siri | cheating au || @smoljimjim
Summary : The seven year itch has hit Jungkook. It hit him so bad, he did the unthinkable to his wife, Siri. How will Siri handle it?
Fall back in love || Jungkook x reader | childhood best friend au || @bukguhope
Summary : jungkook somehow grew a reputation of sleeping around on campus, leaving him lonely and inexperienced with relationships. so when you, his old childhood best friend moves onto campus, he discovers what a relationship can feel like as he finds himself falling in love with you
Falling || Photographer jungkook x reader | soulmate au | college au || @starshapedkookie
Summary: a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.
#jeon jungkook#bts smut#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook smut#bts x reader#jungkook angst#bts x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook masterlist#jungkook imagine#jungkook#jeon jungkook ff#jungkook ff#jungkook x reader#fluff#jungkook x you#jungkook fic recs#btsff#angst#smut#fic rec#fanfic#one shot#series#bts fluff#bts imagines#bts angst#bts
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Like a virgin!
s.m: based off a request; youre so sick of being a virgin. So now you’re set on losing your virginity but you’re very nervous, don’t worry your roommate is here to help you and give you some tips. as a “friend”. and maybe just one tip.
w.c: 2.8k
c.w: porn with plot, p in v, riding, virginity lose (fem), fingering (fem), titty sucking, protected sex, not proofread
a.n: more modern jace to feed the crowd, love you guys <3
masterlist
You find unsure of yourself as you stare into the floor length mirror in front of you. your eyes linger towards the clock you have hanging on your wall.
7:15
You wish you were dreading a test or a final project but instead you were counting down the minutes to a much worse fate.
a date.
Not just any date of course, this is the date you planned on finally losing your virginity.
As a senior in college and still being a fucking virgin you were humiliated. All your friends told you your time would come but when was the time coming? You were so sick of waiting anymore and decided the next guy that asked you out would be the guy.
He was a friend of a friend. No you think he’s your friends cousin. Fuck you have no clue. Not that it mattered, all that mattered is that he’s nice enough and he would fuck you. You had seen some pictures of him from you friend and thought he was cute so you just decided to screw it and agree to go on a blind date with him. it was at a bar, not too far from where you were so you just told him you would meet him there.
You walk out of you room to go sit in the kitchen and overthink for the next 25 minutes until you planned to leave. All your roommates were out of the apartment tonight except one. Jacaerys. His back turned to you, shirtless as always cooking something on the stove, he shoots you a hey as you walk by and you let out a meek hello which has him turning around and widening his eyes.
“well hello you.” You roll yours eyes and sit on one of the island stools as he walks over, eyeing what he can see from over the island counter and whistling, “Look at you hot stuff, thought the girls were busy tonight.”
“They are.” He looks at you with raised brows, before he turns back to the stove, attending to what you assume is some veggies, “Then what are you all dressed up for?” He asks before he takes a fork to his skillet and takes a bite from it.
“I have a date.” He begins to cough vigorously, you almost stand to help him but he waves his hands at you and takes a big chug from his water. “What?” “I have a date…?”
You don’t know why he’s acting so weird. Maybe he thinks you are so terrible you could not possibly score a date, You two weren’t exactly close, not that you were with any of your roommates, but you had thought he was the nicest one always offering you some of whatever he was making and was always the only one to clean up after himself and did his dishes often.
“With who?” “A friend of a friend, or i think he’s her cousin.” “You don’t know?” “I’ve never met him?” “You’re going on a blind date?” You feel kind of hurt by his words and look down at your lap, “Whats so weird about that?”
He lets out some mumbled curses before he begins to speak again, “no thats not what i meant love i just didn’t think you were the type to go on blind dates thats all.” He was right you weren’t, it was rare you even went out on dates at all.
“Just felt like doing something new?” You certainly can’t tell him what you truly want out of this. Yet when you answer comes out as a question he turns to your from his place in front of the stove with a curious look. “You sure its just that?”
You nod hesitantly and he smirks, “ah i get it, you wanna get laid,” How can he tell? He laughs at your wide eyes and goes back to cooking. “Don’t worry babe we all get like that sometimes. When was the last time you go laid?” A couple moments of silence passes and he turns to you with wide eyes.
“No way.” You flush, embarrassed at his stare, “No what?” he moves his pan off the stove, turning it off before he stares at you with wonder. “No way you’re a fucking virgin.” You open your mouth and some broken mumbles fall from your lips, “no…” “I cant fucking believe it.” “Why’s it so hard to believe?” Your tone must have come off harsh because he walks back towards you with puppy eyes.
“No no no babe i just cant fucking believe it, a hot babe like you still a virgin, unbelievable.” You flush and turn your head away from him as he begins to stand right in front of you. You cant tell if he’s teasing you or not. Jace was known as one of the hottest guys on campus, but he was never really known as the type of guy to sleep around, of course a few lucky girls would go around bragging that they got to sleep with him and they talked about how much they enjoyed it.
“You dont need to say that…” “Why wouldn’t i? You’re hot as hell, especially right now i mean look at you, that guy would be a fool if he werent pouncing on you the second he sees you.” This suddenly reminds you of your impending future and you go silent.
“Something wrong?” He looks so concerned you can’t help but confess to him, “Im nervous, i dont know what im even supposed to do.” You put your head in your hands in shame, at your age you should atleast have some experience but you could barely say you’ve held a guys hand. You had thought you would gain a lot more experience in college after missing out on relationships in highschool but you barely did anything. And now you were just trying to get it all over with at once with no knowledge on how to do anything.
“Why don’t i show you some things?” You freeze at his words and slowly lift your head up to look at him, “What?”
“Let me give you some, pointers for lack of a better word, so you can walk into your date more confident.”
You hesitate. You’ve always thought jacaerys was a cute guy and you fear taking him up on his offer would only allow your feelings for him to grow . but you dont want to walk into this date a fool so you end up looking at him with curious eyes. “What are you gonna do?” He grins, like he knew you were gonna say that. “Go stand near the couch.”
You are confused but follow his instructions and watch him with curiosity as he walks over to you and stands directly in front of you. “Where do you think this will all take place?” “Were going to a bar in a hotel he’s staying in so i would assume his hotel room.”
“Okay close your eyes.” You close them and you shiver as you feel the ghosting of his hands on your skin, trailing down your face and your neck. “First things first he would kiss you, you okay with me kissing you?” You nod and squeeze your eyes shut, as your heart begins to race. “… You have been kissed before havent you?”
You hesitate before you nod and he laughs, “Its okay,” You feel his forehead press against yours and your noses rub together, “ill teach you anything you need to know.” He presses his lips against yours and you lose yourself to him, following his lead. He cups your face gently and hums against your lips, lightly pressing his tongue against your lips leading you to open them, allowing him to slide into your mouth.
Unsure of what to do you just let him do as he pleases, ignoring the way you feel your underwear growing soaked at his actions. He suddenly pulls away from his lips and you open your eyes, and notice hes already staring at you. He looks so beautiful with his bruised lips but he barely gives you any time to admire him as he goes back in for another kiss that has your knees trembling.
He leans you down to lay back on the couch and he leans over you, breaking away from your kiss to leave a trail of kisses down your jaw and down your neck, his hands grip at the dress you’re wearing, moving it down to expose more of your chest so he can continue to press hot kisses against your skin.
You can’t help but try to get any friction by lifting your hips towards his but he pushes your hips down and shushes you when you whimper. “Its okay baby no need to rush we have all night.”
you shouldnt have all night but you can’t think about that right now as he continues to slide down your dress, “Can i take this off love?” You nod your head and watch his expression morph into one of wonder as he takes off your dress and admires you. You can chosen to go braless as it didn’t look good with your strapless dress and you wore a lacy pink pair of panties.
“Look at you baby so pretty fuck, always so fucking pretty.”
He latches onto one of your nipples and plays with the other with his thumb as he slots himself between you legs and begins to grind his hips against yours, when did he take off his shorts? you can feel his hardness press against the wet fabric, hitting you so right you throw your head back and can do nothing else but moan.
You don’t know how long you’re laying there, jace switches which nipple he’s attached to at some point but you barely notice it. Too focused on the burning pit growing in your stomach. You grip onto his hair tightly and he groans, the sensation around you sending shivers down your spine. He pulls off of you and stops the momentum of his hips despite your mumbles of disagreement. “Im supposed to be teaching you remember.” You hadn’t really remember that but you’re more shocked he did.
You nod lazily and he slides his hand down your stomach and toys with the bow on the front of your panties. “Will you let me?” Your heart pounds as you stare at him, you can barely believe this is happening. He looks at you with a soft smile and presses a peck against your lips, “yes.”
His hand slides under the fabric and he immediately curses to himself as he rubs against your folds. “fuck you’re soaked.” You whine as you thrust your hips into his heads trying to get more friction from him. “Please.” “relax ill take care of you don’t worry baby.”
He sticks a finger inside of you slowly and you push your head into the crook of his neck as he lets out some more mumbled curses, “fuck you feel so fucking good.” He pumps the one finger in you a couple times, drinking in your moans before he adds another finger and groans out loud when you bite against his neck.
“just like that pretty god.”
You pulse around him at his praise and he speeds up his fingers, “You like that baby? telling you how good you are for me?”
you nod as best you can into the crook of his neck and he adds a third finger, continuing to press and prod at your insides. Your hands find their to his back and grip onto the skin with your nails and he hisses, his fingers halting suddenly before they pick up a more brutal pace. bringing you closer and closer to your release.
You feel the pit continue to burn in your stomach until you can barely hold it any more and he can tell. “cum let go do it.” You follow his instructions to a tea and come quickly on his fingers, he helps you ride out your orgasm and you can feel your underwear stick uncomfortably to your skin.
He pulls his fingers out and you pull away from him, watching mesmerized as he pulls each of them in his mouth, licking every drop of essence off his fingers.
the two of you stare at each other while you catch your breaths, you hesitantly bring your hands to his face and he leans into your touch dreamily as he pressed his forehead against yours. “we don’t have to do anymore if you don’t want to.” you glance off to the side and eye the digital clock.
7:40
When you wanted to leave. You could get up now and leave, go to the date probably a lot more prepared than ever. but you don’t wanna go. you want to stay here, with him. even if this was just a casual thing to him you were happier losing your virginity to him than some random guy you only know from pictures.
“Please fuck me jace.” He pulls back and looks at you, “are you sure?” you nod, “yes please fuck me.”
With your assurance he wastes no time flipping you over so he’s laying beneath you and you sit above him. You stare down at him with wide eyes, “don’t worry this will feel really good.”
The two of you stand for a moment and he slides your underwear down your legs letting out a couple more swears that have you burning with embarrassment while he drops his own briefs and flops back down on the couch, pulling you down with him with a shriek causing him to laugh.
He rummages around in the side table and pulls out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before he slides it over himself before he adjusts you over him.
“final lesson, ill lead you itll feel real good i promise.” you nod and he grips onto your hips with his free hand while his other keeps hims aligned with your folds as he begins to push past them and deeply inside you.
you cannot believe you spent your whole life without this what were you doing? it burns but its a burn that makes you feel like you wanna scream from pleasure the lower and lower you sink, you let out some strangled noises as he presses kisses against your bare skin, showering you with praises. “jace,,” “i know baby i know fuck you feel so good its okay you’re almost there.”
You suddenly reach the bottom and the two of you stay there for a long time allowing you to adjust. Yet you grow impatient and scrap your nails against hos chest. “you ready to move baby?” “yes please fuck.”
He grips your hips with both hands and lifts you up before lowering you back down and you swear you’re seeing stars. The two of you moan in sync when he lifts you back up and lowers you back down again. The two of you continue this routine over and over, he attaches his lip to your nipple once again as the two of you pick up your pace, at a certain point he begins to thrust his hips upwards and you throw your head head all the way back in a loud moan.
The pit begins to burn in your stomach again and you begin to move faster and faster, reaching your hands to pull at his hair and he loudly groans at the sensation. “cum baby fuck im right behind you.” His hand reaches down and plays with your clit for a few moments which sends you over the edge. You clench around him, your release slides down around his cock and he releases soon after you, the way you gripped around him serving as his final push.
He keeps you inside of him on his lap while he leans back, looking at you with a smile as he wipes the sweat off his face. “I always wanted to do that you know?”
you look at him in shock and he shrugs. “i know im doing this all wrong but, you wanna go on a date tomorrow? ive just liked you for awhile and fuck this guy, go out with me.”
You laugh and slap him on the chest, “of course i will you idiot.”
he grins and kisses you and you feel him harden inside you. when you give him a look he merely laughs and flips you to where your suddenly laying on your back. “Youre just too fucking hot.”
perm jacaerys taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd imagine#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys strong#prince jacaerys#jacaerys targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#hotd jacaerys#jacaerys x reader#jace x you#jace velaryon#jace targaryen#jace x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#hotd x y/n#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#house targaryen#jacaerys#modern hotd#modern jace#modern jacaerys
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Plan B (for Boo)
pairing: bsk x f!reader genre: frenemies to lovers | wc: 9.0k au: non-idol au warnings: alcohol consumption, both reader and seungkwan are emotionally constipated a/n: based on this tweet https://x.com/galacticidiots/status/1582385401997955072 // thank you to the amazing @wongyuseokie for this BOO-tiful banner and divider (haha get it.) // and an enormous thank you to my lovely wonderful betas @chanranghaeys and @lovetaroandtaemin
summary: it's just a stupid pact. what could possibly go wrong?
“So,” he starts, his tone dripping with mock sincerity, “why are you still single? Could it be that no one wants to handle all this,” he gestures up and down with an exaggerated flourish, “24/7?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes as you sip your drink, but before you can respond with something equally sharp, he leans in a little closer, voice softer and yet somehow still insufferable. “If it’s still like this by the time we’re 30, maybe you should just give up and marry me. Think about it—life would be so much easier.”
It’s a jab, you’re sure. The kind he always takes. But maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that it makes you laugh in a way that even catches him off guard—a laugh deep enough to make him blink before breaking into a grin too. And before you realize it, your own words slip out in response.
“Alright. If we’re both single at 30, I’ll marry you.” You shrug nonchalantly, but there’s a flash in his eyes that you can’t quite read. “And let’s be real, Boo—I’d be doing you the favor here.”
His brows shoot up as he crosses his arms, clearly ready to go head-to-head. “Please, I’d be your retirement plan,” he says with mock indignation, his tone warming for just a second as if this is more than a joke. Then, holding out his hand, he adds, “Deal?”
You shake it, the alcohol dulling the tiny voice that says this is a terrible idea. And just like that, you grin at each other, certain it’ll be nothing more than a passing joke, something to laugh about later. Neither of you knows that this will stick with you—that it’ll be a memory you revisit every time Seungkwan pops up at exactly the wrong (or right) moments.
11 months, 23 days post-pact:
The “pact” starts as a drunken joke during a night out, one of those silly promises that friends (well, frenemies) make when they’re feeling a bit too invincible. It’s almost always out of sight, out of mind, but fate is a cruel mistress. Just as things begin to go well with someone, Seungkwan inevitably shows up.
Today, you’re out with Keeho, a charming, laid-back guy you met at a friend’s party last month. After a few flirty texts, you both agree to meet for coffee downtown, and things are going smoothly. You find yourself in a cozy bookstore café on a lazy Saturday afternoon, the kind of place that smells of freshly brewed coffee and old books. Keeho is funny and easygoing, and you’re genuinely enjoying yourself.
Just as you settle into a cozy corner table, sipping your latte and discussing your favorite novels, you feel a chill pass through the air. The bell above the door jingles, and you turn just in time to see Seungkwan burst in, a whirlwind of energy in his bright, patterned sweater.
“Oh, you’re on a date!” he exclaims, his voice echoing off the bookshelves as he approaches. He has that familiar look in his eyes—part mischief, part determination—as he slides into the seat across from you without so much as a greeting to Keeho.
You freeze mid-sentence, watching in horror as your carefully curated date suddenly turns chaotic. “Yes, Seungkwan,” you say, forcing a smile as you lean slightly away from him. “This is Keeho, and we were just—”
“Oh, Keeho! Nice to meet you!” Seungkwan interrupts, his tone dripping with faux enthusiasm. “So, you’re the brave soul who decided to take Y/N out on a date. You must have some serious courage.” He looks at you, feigning concern. “Are you sure you’re ready for her? She’s a handful, you know.”
Keeho raises an eyebrow, amusement battling with confusion. “I’m up for a challenge,” he replies, a smirk tugging at his lips as he glances between you and Seungkwan.
You can feel your cheeks warming, mortified at Seungkwan’s antics. “It’s really not—”
“Oh, but it is!” Seungkwan cuts you off again, leaning closer to Keeho. “Just last week, she convinced me to join her for a book club, and it was a disaster! I’m telling you, she had me reading some really intense romance novel.” He chuckles, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. “Let me tell you, that kind of emotional rollercoaster is not for the faint of heart.”
Keeho laughs, glancing at you with a playful glint in his eye. “Sounds like you have some strong opinions about romance, Y/N.”
“Okay, but I liked that book!” you protest, feeling the urge to defend your taste. “And it’s not my fault Seungkwan has no sense of romance!”
Seungkwan feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart. “I am a romantic! I just happen to be very selective about my literature. Besides, I didn’t think I’d need to give a warning to your date. Guess I was wrong!”
The two of them continue bantering, Keeho managing to hold his own, but you sense the dynamic shift. Each playful jab from Seungkwan feels like it’s chipping away at the ease of the moment. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Seungkwan leans back with an exaggerated sigh.
“Well, I’ve done my duty here,” he announces, clearly satisfied with the chaos he’d stirred up. “Just wanted to make sure Keeho knows what he’s getting into. You know, if things don’t work out, I’m still single and ready to mingle!” He winks at you, a smug smile plastered on his face.
You roll your eyes, watching him leave, but deep down, you’re more entertained than you want to admit. Just as he reaches the door, he turns back, giving you one last wink and whispering, “Call me when you’re done with this guy, yeah?”
As he walks out, you lean your head in your hands, half-laughing, half-sighing. “I’m so sorry about that,” you say to Keeho, who is still chuckling at the spectacle.
“I mean, he’s entertaining, I’ll give him that,” Keeho says, shaking his head. “But is he always like that?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” you admit, the humor of the situation beginning to sink in. “But he means well.”
Keeho smiles, his eyes warm. “Well, if he’s the worst I have to deal with, I think I can handle it. Let’s just get back to our coffee and forget about the chaos, okay?”
You nod, relieved, and try to refocus on your conversation. But as you chat about your favorite books, you can’t shake the feeling that Seungkwan has left a lingering awkwardness in the air. Sure enough, as the date progresses, you notice that Keeho is distracted, occasionally glancing toward the door as if waiting for Seungkwan to return.
After a few more minutes of stilted conversation, you decide to lighten the mood. “So, what’s your favorite genre? Maybe we can find a book to recommend to each other?”
Keeho shrugs, a slight frown on his face. “Honestly? I’m more of a sci-fi guy. I guess romance isn’t really my thing.”
You feel a small twinge of disappointment but try to brush it off. “That’s okay! Everyone has different tastes. I really enjoy a good sci-fi too.”
As the conversation drifts back and forth, you both struggle to find common ground. You notice Keeho’s smile faltering more often, and he seems less engaged than before. It’s clear that Seungkwan’s surprise entrance has cast a shadow on the date, and the initial chemistry you felt is fading.
By the end of the hour, as you both finish your drinks, Keeho’s attention drifts to his phone. “Hey, I should probably get going. I have a few things to take care of at home,” he says, standing up and looking apologetic. “But it was nice meeting you.”
You nod, a hint of disappointment settling in your stomach. “Yeah, nice meeting you too.” You both exchange polite goodbyes, and as you watch him leave, you feel the familiar twinge of frustration. It’s as if fate is determined to keep sabotaging your chances of finding someone.
And deep down, you know Seungkwan will find a way to poke his head into your next date, too.
1 year, 6 months, 17 days post-pact:
The sun poured into the little bistro, casting a warm glow over your table as you shared easy laughs and stolen glances with your brunch date. It felt like a scene right out of a movie: the coffee was just strong enough, the food delicious, and the company—Sunghoon, a coworker you’d finally worked up the nerve to get closer to—was even better. You’d reached that perfect point where a little hand-holding across the table felt natural, like something you’d done a hundred times before. And you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this could actually go somewhere.
But just as you’re about to lean in with a smile, it happens.
A voice, unmistakably loud and dripping with exaggerated surprise, rings out. “Oh my god, is that you?”
Your heart sinks, but you turn anyway, because there’s no ignoring Seungkwan, especially when he’s dressed in his brightest pink sweater, standing a few tables over with a grin that could rival the sun. He’s holding a large coffee in one hand, eyebrows raised high in mock surprise.
“Seungkwan,” you say, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Wow, what a coincidence.”
“Oh, it’s not just a coincidence.” With the practiced ease of a performer, he slides into the seat beside Sunghoon, who has gone from looking amused to very, very confused. “Y/N and I go way back, actually. Practically family, really. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” He flashes you a grin, one that’s both infuriating and endearing.
You clench your jaw, trying to suppress the urge to strangle him. “Right. Practically family,” you murmur, hoping Sunghoon isn’t catching the way your fingers have turned white from gripping your napkin too hard.
Seungkwan seems to ignore you, his attention now entirely on Sunghoon, whose eyebrows have slowly started climbing into his hairline. “So,” he continues, his voice loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear, ���you’re here with Y/N? Cute choice. I hope you know what you’re getting into. Y/N’s kind of… high maintenance.” He winks at you like he’s just told an inside joke.
Sunghoon chuckles nervously, glancing over at you as if he needs confirmation. You shoot him an apologetic smile, trying to silently convey that, no, this isn’t normal and, yes, you’ll explain later.
“And I mean, Y/N and I?” Seungkwan keeps going, gesturing between the two of you like there’s some deep, mysterious connection. “The chemistry? It’s off the charts.” He taps his head, sighing. “We can practically read each other’s minds, you know?”
By now, Sunhoon is fidgeting, a small smile glued to his face as they look between you and Seungkwan. “Oh, really?” he asks, clearly wondering if he’s missing something monumental. “So you two… you’re not—”
“Oh, no, no,” you say quickly, shooting a glare at Seungkwan, who’s clearly trying not to laugh.
But Seungkwan doesn’t stop there. “Ah, Y/N’s right,” he adds, shrugging. “We’re not together. Yet.” He drags out the word with a smirk, and you can practically hear the gears turning in Sunghoon’s head as he processes the word "yet."
You feel your face heating up, half-tempted to kick him under the table. “Seungkwan, don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you ask, voice tight.
“Hmm, let me think…” He pretends to ponder this, tapping his chin before leaning across the table. “Nope. Nowhere. Besides, isn’t brunch better with a crowd?” He gives Sunghoon a friendly, if slightly unnerving, pat on the shoulder. “You must be so lucky to have Y/N’s attention like this. People are usually lining up for it.”
Sunghoon shifts again, looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. You know Seungkwan can sense it too, his eyes glinting with amusement as he continues his casual interrogation. “So, tell me about yourself,” he says to Sunghoon, putting on his most interested expression, though you know he’s sizing him up with each word.
The back-and-forth goes on, with Seungkwan jumping in to answer Sunghoon’s questions as if he’s your personal biographer. He throws in every childhood story, every embarrassing tidbit he can remember—all exaggerated, of course—until Sunghoon’s head is spinning. The worst part is, it’s so absurd that it’s almost funny, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as Seungkwan slips in comments like, “Oh, Y/N definitely prefers pineapple on pizza,” or, “Trust me, Y/N’s a total night owl.” As Seungkwan shares “insider secrets” and childhood anecdotes, a strange sensation bubbles up in your chest. It was annoyance, sure, but there was something else there—a soft ache that confused you. Why did he care so much about who you were dating? And why did you feel so strangely relieved that he was here?
Finally, just when you think you can’t take any more, he stands up, clapping his hands together like he’s just wrapped up a grand performance. “Well,” he says, turning to you with a look of smug satisfaction, “if you ever need a brunch buddy who doesn’t skip out on the bill…” He winks. “Call me, yeah?”
He pats Sunghoon on the back as he heads for the door, grinning like he’s just pulled off the prank of the century. “Nice to meet you!” he calls to your date, who’s left sitting in stunned silence as Seungkwan struts out, practically radiating smugness.
When he’s finally gone, Sunghoon lets out a slow breath, shoulders relaxing as they turn to you. “Sooo… that was interesting.”
You let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah… interesting is one word for it.”
He raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face. “So, does he do that a lot?”
“Oh, all the time,” you say with a sigh, though you can’t keep the fond smile off your face. “But hey, he means well. In a very… loud way.”
He chuckles, clearly unsure but still intrigued. “Well, guess I’ll have to stick around and see what other ‘friends’ you have in store.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you lean back in your seat, finally able to relax. In that moment, the chaos of Seungkwan’s interruption almost fades—almost—because part of you knows that with him around, peace and quiet will always be temporary at best.
2 years post-pact, to the day:
Seungcheol’s birthday is practically a national holiday among your friend group. Every year, he insists on throwing an over-the-top party, renting out a venue and packing it with everyone he knows (and some people he barely knows). This year is no different. He’s booked a rooftop bar with an incredible view, and the night promises to be one of laughter, loud music, and Seungcheol’s legendary knack for making everyone feel like family.
Of course, as soon as you walked through the doors, Seungkwan had cornered you, teasing you about your outfit, asking if you were sure you wanted to dress up this much for just any party. He’d even given you a once-over with a smirk, as if he could see right through your intentions. You’d brushed him off, but you knew he wasn’t done stirring up trouble.
The party is buzzing with laughter, conversations blending into a symphony of voices, and there you are, casually observing from the edge of the room. You spot Seungkwan in the distance, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed as he talks to a girl who’s completely engrossed in whatever story he’s telling. She’s laughing, touching his arm every now and then, and her eyes are practically twinkling. He’s playing it up too, charming as ever, and for a split second, it almost looks real.
A strange feeling knots in your stomach. It’s not jealousy, you tell yourself, but a weird twinge of something uncomfortable that you can’t quite name. You push the thought aside, focusing instead on the playful banter you’ve always shared with him. But still, you can’t help but feel a flicker of annoyance as the girl giggles, leaning in closer to him, her hand lingering on his arm. Why does it bother you so much?
You shake it off quickly – you know him too well. There’s no way it’s real (right?). Time to have a little fun of your own.
You bide your time, watching for the perfect moment before you make your move. Finally, you spot an opening, and with a quick breath, you slip through the crowd and tap him on the shoulder, putting on your brightest, most endearing smile.
“Hey, honey, sorry I’m late!” You say, practically singing the words as you slide an arm around his waist.
Seungkwan’s body tenses immediately, and when he turns to look at you, his eyes are wide with a mix of surprise and warning. Don’t you dare, his gaze practically screams, but you just tighten your grip, patting his side for emphasis.
“Oh… um, hi,” he stammers, clearly caught off guard, trying to maintain his composure as he looks back at the girl.
You flash her a warm, overly friendly smile, as if you’re just so glad to meet her. “So sorry to interrupt! He promised we’d catch up tonight, you know, since we’re…” you pause, feigning a thoughtful look as you glance up at Seungkwan, “what did you say the other day? Practically inseparable?”
The girl’s confident smile falters, her gaze shifting between you and Seungkwan, her expression growing more uncertain by the second. You can feel Seungkwan’s silent plea for mercy, but you keep going, leaning into him a bit more.
“Oh, and did he tell you about our little pact?” you add, raising your eyebrows with a playful grin as you look back at him. You feel his muscles tense under your arm, his cheeks beginning to glow a telltale shade of pink.
“Pact?” She asks, eyebrows knitting in confusion as she looks at Seungkwan, who’s now fidgeting slightly, glancing around as if looking for an escape.
“Yes, we’ve had it forever,” you say with a wistful sigh, clutching his arm as if this is the most romantic thing in the world. “You know, just in case we’re both… single. Isn’t that right, darling?”
The girl’s smile drops completely, and her mouth opens just a bit, as if she’s about to ask for clarification, but she seems to think better of it. Her cheeks flush as she glances at Seungkwan, now visibly flustered and clearing his throat, his eyes darting everywhere except toward either of you.
“Um, I… I should find my friends,” she mutters, shooting him one last look before quickly turning on her heel and slipping away into the crowd.
As soon as she’s out of sight, you can’t help but smirk, glancing up at Seungkwan’s astonished expression. Leaning up, you plant a quick peck on his cheek before stepping back, watching as he turns to you, looking thoroughly scandalized.
“Are you serious right now?” He hisses, though his lips are twitching, betraying the hint of a laugh he’s trying to hold back.
“Oh, come on, you had it coming,” you reply with a wicked smile. “After the whole pineapple on pizza stunt? I’d say that’s one for me.”
He shakes his head, laughing softly as he runs a hand through his hair, his pink cheeks now joined by a glimmer of genuine amusement. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, but there’s a light in his eyes that tells you he’s not mad in the slightest.
“Hey, you started this game,” you shrug, giving him a little nudge. “I’m just playing to win.”
Seungkwan lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as he glances toward the direction the girl went, then back to you, a begrudging smile breaking through. “Fine, fine. But don’t expect me to go easy on you next time. Speaking of which, what happened to that guy from brunch a few months ago? Sanghyun? Sanghoon?”
“His name is Sunghoon, idiot, and nothing happened. You made sure of that. That’s why I’m here, evening the score,” you retort, crossing your arms with a mock scowl.
Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “So you’re telling me I’m your secret weapon now?”
“More like your meddling is a curse,” you say, shaking your head.
He chuckles, the sound light and infectious. “Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Just know, I’m not done with this game yet.”
As the night continues, the laughter and music surround you, but a lingering thought gnaws at the back of your mind. Watching Seungkwan charm his way through conversations, it strikes you how easily he can captivate others, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if there’s a part of him that prefers their attention over yours. You push it away, the pang of unease echoing with the music, reminding you that this is just a party, just a game, but somehow, you can’t shake the feeling of something deeper bubbling just beneath the surface.
2 years, 4 months, and 9 days post-pact:
This time, it’s dinner at a new trendy restaurant in the nicer end of town. Dinner with Yuta had been going perfectly—a warm, candlelit setting, the faint hum of jazz music, and conversation that felt so easy you were actually starting to think you could see something real with him. He’s charming, you’re feeling all the right butterflies, and he even leans in, smiling as he teases you about the most embarrassing moments you’ve shared from work.
Then, right on cue, a waiter appears at your table, his expression a mix of confusion and apology.
“Miss Y/N?” he asks, glancing between you and Yuta, who’s now watching with mild curiosity. “I was told by a gentleman to deliver this to you with his regards.”
In his arms, he’s holding an enormous bouquet of deep red roses, wrapped in an extravagant silk ribbon that practically glows under the restaurant’s soft lights. Yuta raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a curious smirk.
As soon as you spot the bouquet, a sinking feeling settles in your stomach. You already know exactly what’s coming next.
The waiter hands you the bouquet, and you catch sight of a note nestled among the roses. The cursive writing on the card reads: “Forever yours, my little dumpling. ~ Boo”
“Oh my god…” you murmur, your cheeks flushing as you let out a strained laugh, trying to brush it off. “Um… wow. This is… an inside joke that got a little out of hand.”
Yuta’s eyes sparkle with amusement, but you can tell he’s a little taken aback. “Inside joke, huh? That’s… a lot of roses for a joke.”
“Yeah,” you say, stumbling over your words, “he just… has a sense of humor, you know?”
Before you can think of a more believable explanation, your phone vibrates on the table, the screen lighting up with a text notification. You already have a bad feeling about it.
Picking up your phone, you see a picture text from Seungkwan. He’s standing in front of a florist, grinning mischievously and holding the exact same bouquet that now sits on your table. “Enjoy,” reads the message, punctuated by a devil emoji.
You feel your jaw tighten, your fingers twitching with the urge to throw the phone across the table. But you take a deep breath, glancing at Yuta, who’s watching you with even more intrigue now.
“Let me guess,” he says, clearly trying not to laugh. “That was him?”
“Unfortunately,” you mutter, gritting your teeth in a half-smile. “He’s a… close friend. Very close. Close enough that he thinks things like this are hilarious.”
Yuta chuckles, leaning back in his chair, but there’s a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Is he… an ex or something?”
“Not at all,” you say quickly, cringing as you realize just how absurd the whole situation must look. “He’s just… Seungkwan. This is his idea of fun. Like, sending flowers to a date to ‘make sure I’m being treated well’ or something.” You laugh awkwardly, trying to make light of it, but Yuta’s expression suggests he’s a bit less enchanted now than he was a few minutes ago.
You can almost feel Seungkwan’s satisfaction from across the city, and it only makes you clench the bouquet harder. The playful irritation bubbling inside you suddenly feels like something else—was this jealousy? You push the thought aside. It’s ridiculous. Seungkwan is just your friend. He doesn’t mean anything by it, does he? Yet, the way Yuta’s laughter seems to wane, the way he glances at the bouquet with uncertainty, leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
“Look,” you start, leaning in, “I know this is kind of… bizarre. But it’s not like that. Really, it’s just him trying to mess with me.”
Yuta smiles, but it’s a little strained. “Right, well… I guess I’d better bring my A-game if I’m up against grand gestures like that.”
You sigh, giving him an apologetic smile. “Trust me, if there’s anyone that doesn’t need to compete with Seungkwan, it’s you.”
The conversation moves on, but there’s a noticeable change in Yuta’s demeanor. He glances at the bouquet one too many times, and even as he smiles, there’s a lingering distance that wasn’t there before. You feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, and it gnaws at you that, in this moment, Seungkwan’s antics are the wedge between you and someone who could be something more.
By the end of the night, he’s still polite, still charming—but the spark feels a little dimmer. Seungkwan’s mission has been accomplished, and as Yuta bids you goodnight, his words are just a little too formal, a little too hesitant, making it painfully clear that he probably won’t be calling again. You should have been devastated. Yuta was the perfect gentleman – but something about a boy with the devious smirk, planning exactly when to have a bouquet of roses delivered, soothed the pain.
2 years, 9 months, and 18 days post-pact:
You never thought he’d go this far. Seungkwan, of all people, invited you out on a double date. The plan sounds innocent enough—a cozy dinner for four, just a casual night out. But the second you step into the dimly-lit, deafening restaurant he’s picked, you know he has a hidden agenda. The music’s loud, the lighting’s too low, and the tables are packed so close together you’re practically bumping elbows with strangers.
Settling into your seat, you force a smile as your date, Kevin—a genuinely nice guy with a warm laugh—leans in close, probably the only way he can hear you over the noise. Across the table, Seungkwan’s already chatting up his own date with way too much charm. Every time you try to ask Kevin a question or tell a story, Seungkwan seems to pick that exact moment to raise his voice.
“Oh, did I ever tell you about the time Y/N accidentally confessed to me?” Seungkwan practically shouts, cutting you off mid-sentence.
Kevin freezes, glancing between the two of you with a hesitant smile. “Wait… you guys dated?”
“Oh, no, no,” Seungkwan laughs, waving a hand dismissively, as if the thought is absurd. “Y/N only confesses on accident. Isn’t that right?” He sends you a playful, almost conspiratorial look, as if you’re both in on some inside joke—one that you’re definitely not part of.
You shoot him a glare, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “That was one time, and it was a misunderstanding!” You retort, but the laughter in his eyes makes you feel small. It’s not just annoyance you’re feeling; it’s a mixture of embarrassment and something deeper, a frustrating recognition of how easily he shifts the spotlight onto you.
As the evening progresses, the laughter and clinking of glasses fade into a dull background noise. You try steering the conversation back on track, giving Kevin an apologetic smile, but every time it seems like he’s interested again, Seungkwan throws in a casual remark, making sure no topic gets a chance to really take off.
By the end of the night, Kevin’s enthusiasm has dulled significantly. He gives you a polite, almost strained smile, saying something about “catching you later.” Seungwan’s date is no different. She attempts to give him a hug, but he somehow maneuvers it into the world’s most awkward handshake, and you stifle a giggle into your hand. With a quick wave, she’s gone too, leaving you alone with Seungkwan.
You turn to him, folding your arms as he grins, entirely too pleased with himself. “Why do you look like the cat that swallowed the canary?” You ask, narrowing your eyes.
“Because I had a wonderful evening with you, darling,” he replies, throwing an arm around your shoulders with an exaggerated wink.
“Do you always ruin dates for fun?” you fire back, trying to mask the mix of frustration and something that feels suspiciously like longing.
He shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What can I say? It’s part of my charm.”
You shove him off, but can’t fully hide the amusement flickering in your eyes. He catches it, his grin widening like he’s won something. For a second, you wonder if this is less sabotage and more of a game he doesn’t want either of you to stop playing.
But as the laughter fades, a heavy silence settles in. The thrill of their playful rivalry leaves you feeling conflicted, tugged in two directions: part of you relishes these moments of banter, while the other is increasingly aware of the emotional chaos underneath it all. You should be angry, but instead, a tiny voice in your head whispers that maybe, just maybe, this game is his way of keeping you close.
“What’s next, Seungkwan? Are you going to plan another ‘double date’ with your other friends just to make sure I never get a moment alone?” You challenge him, half-joking, but your heart races at the thought.
His laughter rings out, but there’s a flicker of something in his gaze, a hint of vulnerability that surprises you. “You know I’d never do that to you… I just like watching you squirm,” he admits, his tone lighter but the sincerity hidden underneath that’s palpable.
Suddenly, the air is thick with unspoken words and emotions, and you feel a strange mix of gratitude and frustration wash over you. Why can’t you just see him as the annoying frenemy he pretends to be? Why does it hurt a little too much to think about how you might actually miss him if he were to stop?
As you both stand to leave, your heart is a tangled mess, caught between the irritation he brings and the inexplicable thrill of having him in your life. He gives you one last playful nudge, and you can’t help but wonder if this rivalry is just a cover for something deeper, something you’re both too stubborn to acknowledge.
2 years, 11 months, 24 days post-pact:
After the double date fiasco, a week goes by, and you find yourself dress-shopping with Jeonghan. It's for Seungcheol’s wedding, and naturally, Jeonghan insisted on tagging along to “make sure you don’t show up looking like a bridesmaid nightmare.”
You’re in the dressing room, running your fingers over the delicate lace of the navy blue dress, adjusting the neckline before giving yourself one last glance in the mirror. Jeonghan’s already dismissed five of your previous picks with commentary ranging from “horrific” to “Good luck trying to upstage the bride in that.” But this one feels right. You’re almost nervous to step out, knowing he’s going to have plenty to say.
As you walk out, Jeonghan’s eyes narrow with that same hypercritical gaze he reserves for... well, everything. He circles you slowly, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as he steps back to get a better look, then reaches forward to adjust the strap by your collarbone with a delicate touch. “Hmm,” he muses, tapping his chin theatrically. “That one doesn’t look like it’s trying to be the main character.”
You sigh, unable to hold back a little smile as his hand lingers on your shoulder. “Thanks, I guess?”
“Hey, no, that’s a good thing,” he says, brushing his fingers over your sleeve reassuringly. “It’s got enough class to charm all the moms, and just enough allure to turn a few heads. But you won’t make anyone jealous.”
He grins and pinches your cheek affectionately, like he knows he’s giving the highest possible praise. You swat his hand away, laughing, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes your cheeks flush.
“Think Seungcheol will approve?” you ask, spinning around to check the back in the mirror, letting him watch you pretend you’re not grinning.
“Oh, Seungcheol?” Jeonghan gives a faux-surprised raise of his eyebrows and gently nudges your elbow, keeping his tone light. “I think someone else might have a stronger opinion than our blissfully oblivious groom-to-be.”
You look at him, and he just smirks, half-mischievous, half-knowing. “Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, the lace brushing against your neck as you turn back to the mirror.
“Like what?” he says, leaning his shoulder against yours with exaggerated innocence.
“Like you have any clue what you’re talking about,” you reply, smoothing the fabric of the dress, still avoiding his eyes.
Jeonghan hums thoughtfully, crossing his arms, but you can feel his gaze studying you in the mirror. “Alright, well then, tell me about this little ‘date rivalry’ with Seungkwan that I keep hearing about.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you try to focus on fixing a stray curl rather than looking at him. “It’s nothing, okay? Just a… joke.” You try to laugh it off, though you’re pretty sure he can tell you’re deflecting. “You know, one of those... running gags.”
He snorts and slings his arm over your shoulders casually, squeezing as he leans close to your ear. “Right, because a ‘silly joke’ lasts for, what… three years?”
You elbow him gently, trying to hide your smile. “Two years, eleven months, and twenty-four days,” you correct, giving him a playful nudge. “Not that I’m counting.”
“Oh, of course not,” he says, deadpan, squeezing your shoulder again as he leans in. “Hence all the sabotage and dramatic entrances and flirty messages you two just pretend to brush off.”
You roll your eyes, pulling his arm off your shoulders as you smooth down the fabric of the dress. “It’s really not that deep, Jeonghan. We just... tease each other. Keeps things interesting.”
“Hmm,” he says, draping an arm around your waist this time, like he’s just making himself comfortable. “And all this talk of keeping things ‘interesting’… It’s what? Your foolproof plan to stay single?”
You hesitate, leaning back into his casual embrace as you stare into the mirror, focusing on a barely-there wrinkle in the fabric rather than his too-observant gaze. “We just… keep each other entertained.”
He’s quiet for a second, watching you a little too closely, his chin resting on your shoulder now. “You know, some people choose each other because they’re in love, Y/N.”
You huff a laugh, nudging him off your shoulder but leaning against him a little longer than necessary. “And some people spend too much time meddling in other people’s love lives, Jeonghan.”
“Oh, guilty as charged.” He grins, unbothered, slipping his fingers through yours and giving your hand a quick squeeze. “But unlike you and Seungkwan, I don’t spend three years pretending I don’t have feelings for someone.”
You stare at him, but he’s already shifted his attention back to your outfit, reaching up to tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear with a gentle touch. “So, who says I’m pretending anything?” you ask, looking down, hoping he doesn’t notice the warmth creeping up your neck.
“Oh, please,” he says softly, his hand lingering at the nape of your neck. “You two sabotage every other date, throw each other’s names into any conversation just to keep the other on your mind, and act like you don’t know what you’re doing. Speaking of which, I was the one who told Seungkwan what restaurant your date was at so he could send you those flowers.”
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you shove him lightly. “You did what?”
He chuckles, clearly amused by your reaction. “What? It’s not like I wanted you to end up with Yuto.”
“Yuta, and thanks for that, really,” you say, trying to keep your tone light despite the flutter of annoyance in your chest. “I thought I was going to have a nice evening.”
“Please, it was a public service,” Jeonghan insists, feigning seriousness. “And it was all part of the ‘evening the score’ strategy.”
You groan, half-amused and half-exasperated. “God, you’re impossible.”
He laughs, the sound light and infectious. “Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Just know, I’m not done with this game yet.”
You swallow, feeling your throat tighten as his hand drops to your shoulder. He squeezes it gently, his touch grounding as you try to ignore the truth in his words. Jeonghan’s seen it all: the way Seungkwan’s messages light up your screen, the not-so-casual dinner invitations, and how every other date just... doesn’t quite measure up.
“So when’s the wedding?” he teases, giving your shoulder a playful shake.
“Oh my God,” you groan, half-smiling as you grab a hanger and whack him gently on the shoulder. “Can we not do this right now? You’re supposed to help me pick a dress, not psychoanalyze my love life.”
Jeonghan raises his hands in surrender, his grin shameless. “Alright, alright. But for the record, the entire group’s got their money on you two.”
Your mouth drops open, half-horrified, half-amused. “Excuse me?”
“Yep. Seungcheol thinks it’ll happen at his wedding. Joshua’s got New Year’s. And I, of course, bet on tonight,” he says, winking.
“Oh, really? You’re just that confident, huh?” you ask, punching his arm softly.
He grabs your hand, pulling it to his chest with an exaggerated sigh. “Come on, admit it. You’re a little curious to see if Seungkwan feels the same way.”
You stare at him, and he looks back with that rare, soft sincerity that makes it impossible to tell him off. His words stay with you, settling like a soft ache in your chest as he tugs you toward the counter to pay for the dress, his arm still draped loosely around your shoulders.
Later that night, as you lie in bed, Jeonghan’s voice echoes in your mind: “A silly joke doesn’t last three years, Y/N.” You reach for your phone, the screen casting a soft glow as you scroll through your texts with Seungkwan. Before you know it, you’ve typed out, Why do you keep doing this?
The message sends, and your heart hammers in the quiet as you wait. The response is almost immediate.
Because I know those guys aren’t right for you.
A smile pulls at the corners of your mouth as you type back, And who is?
This time, the pause is longer, and you can almost picture him hesitating. Then, his reply lights up the screen:
Maybe someone who’ll crash every date just to see you smile.
You toss your phone aside, pulling the covers up over your head, fighting a grin that’s nearly impossible to contain. Because maybe, just maybe, Jeonghan’s meddling isn’t so misguided after all.
3 years, 1 month, 11 days post-pact:
The night is warm, a faint breeze carrying the scent of roses and lavender through the garden. Twinkle lights strung above cast a soft glow over the reception area, while the hum of laughter and clinking glasses fills the air as guests flow between the tables and the dance floor. It’s the perfect evening for a wedding—Seungcheol's wedding, of all people, the friend who used to swear up and down that he’d never get tied down. The ceremony had been beautiful, of course, filled with tender vows and stolen glances, the kind of moments that only make the ache in your chest a little sharper. It’s the kind of night made for weddings—the sky deepening to a dusky navy color not unlike the rich blue of your dress, soft to the touch and fitted just right, brushing the tops of your heels.
As you catch glimpses of friends in the crowd, your gaze lands on Seungkwan, who stands just beyond the garden’s edge. The fairy lights soften his outline, illuminating his black suit—perfectly tailored to his frame—and his navy tie, which, oddly enough, matches your dress exactly. The thought comes with a smirk. Jeonghan had said nothing, but you know he had something to do with this.
“Oh hey,” he says, voice warm with that little hint of sarcasm that’s so him. “Didn’t expect you to be sneaking up on me like that. What happened—already bored with your dance partner?”
Rolling your eyes, you return his smile. “Hardly. I just needed a break. It’s like, the second you make eye contact with someone, they’re convinced you’re interested.”
He nods knowingly. “Trust me, I know the feeling.” For a moment, he glances back at the party, and you both lapse into comfortable silence, letting the hum of music and laughter fill the space between you. But when he looks back, there’s something softer, almost vulnerable in his expression.
“So here we are,” he murmurs, crossing his arms, “just the two of us again, while everyone else is off being sentimental.”
Something in his tone makes you pause. It’s rare to see him peel back the layers of playful banter, but there’s a weight in his words that has your heart pounding a little faster.
“What, is being single at a wedding getting to you?” you tease, trying to keep things light, but his answering look is serious, his eyes narrowing just slightly.
“Oh, please,” he says, shaking his head with a slight huff. “But… I can’t lie; that pact of ours has been on my mind.”
The “if we’re both single at thirty, let’s get married” pact. A joke you’d made years ago, on a night not so different from this one, laughing over the idea of “settling” if neither of you found someone by then. You raise an eyebrow, voice softening. “That was just a joke, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he replies, but his voice is softer, almost wistful, and he looks down at his hands. "It was a joke."
Your breath catches, feeling an ache that’s both familiar and new, the words between you now feeling a little too real. You’re about to say something when Jeonghan’s voice interrupts, calling your name from across the garden. He’s grinning, waving you both over.
"Hey!" he calls, all too cheerfully. "Are you coming to join the dance floor or just hiding in the shadows?"
Seungkwan groans, rolling his eyes. “Looks like my break’s over,” he mutters, but there’s a reluctant smile there as he lets Jeonghan drag you both toward the dance floor.
A new song starts, slower than the upbeat tracks that played earlier, and suddenly, everyone around you is pairing off. Before you know it, Jeonghan has nudged Seungkwan into place in front of you, giving him a wink as he steps back. The faintest pink dusts Seungkwan’s cheeks, but he recovers quickly, giving you a playful smirk as he offers you his hand.
“Guess you’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs as you take his hand, his touch warm as he pulls you closer. The scent of his cologne wraps around you, subtle yet comforting, and his hand on your waist grounds you as the two of you sway under the twinkle lights.
It’s maddening, how close he is, how his gaze holds yours with a quiet intensity that feels like it’s about to crack through years of careful friendship. For a moment, the world around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his hand, the navy blue of his tie, the slow rhythm of the music, and the unspoken words hanging between you.
But just as quickly, Seungkwan clears his throat, breaking the spell as he takes a step back, glancing away. “I should… um, I should probably go help Jeonghan with…” His voice trails off as he disappears into the crowd.
You stand there, heart racing, feeling the weight of what was left unfinished. Jeonghan appears at your side, giving you a knowing smile.
“Go after him,” he says, nudging you with a grin. "Trust me, it’s time.”
With a deep breath, you weave through the clusters of guests, catching sight of Seungkwan just past the garden’s edge, leaning against a tree, looking out into the night.
As you approach, he turns, eyes widening just slightly before he speaks. “Oh. You’re here.” There’s a vulnerability about him that takes you by surprise.
“Yeah. Still… need a break,” you reply, barely above a whisper, and there’s a pause as he searches your gaze, something soft and hopeful flickering in his eyes.
“Seungkwan, I-” you start, voice shaking just a bit. He chuckles, shaking his head, but there’s no humor in it.
“Don’t say anything you don’t mean right now, Y/N,” he warns, voice low. You swallow hard, the weight of his words settling over you like the warm, heavy night air. Behind you, the music fades as guests migrate to the bar, the hum of conversation filling the garden. But here, in this quiet corner under the fairy lights, it feels like you’re the only two people in the world.
“Why?” you ask, feeling your cheeks warm. “Do you have something you need to tell me?”
He pauses, glancing down at the ground and taking a deep breath, his fingers flexing at his sides as though he’s gathering courage. When he looks back up, there’s something vulnerable in his gaze, raw and unguarded in a way you’ve never seen before. “I’m saying that maybe, just maybe, I’ve wanted this all along.”
His confession hits you like a wave, a rush of emotion you weren’t prepared for. Memories flood back—those lingering glances, nights spent sabotaging each other’s dates, and playful jabs that always seemed to hit a little too close to the heart.
You manage a shaky breath, words tumbling out before you can stop them. “You’re not… just saying this because of the open bar, are you?”
He laughs, a soft sound that cuts through the tension, and steps a little closer, his hand brushing yours. The slight contact is electric, sending a thrill through you. “I’ve had plenty of chances to back out of that pact,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a near whisper. “But I didn’t want to. Because I kept hoping… that maybe it wasn’t just a joke to you, either.”
For a moment, time seems to stop. The music, the laughter, the soft glow of the lights—all of it fades until there’s only him, his face inches from yours, his hand hovering near your waist. His touch is gentle, yet electric, barely there, but enough to make your heart race and a thrill skitter down your spine. You can see the way his eyes search yours, a mix of vulnerability and desire reflected in their depths.
“Well, if we’re being honest… maybe I’ve been waiting for you, too,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly as the words slip free. The admission feels like a weight lifting, revealing the truth you’ve both danced around for far too long.
He lets out a breath, almost a sigh of relief, and pulls you a fraction closer, his hand settling firmly at your waist, warm and steady. The world around you blurs into a hazy backdrop, and all that matters is the heat radiating from his body, the way his thumb strokes your side, sending warmth pooling low in your belly. His smile is soft, just for you, a detail that makes your pulse quicken. Damn Jeonghan.
“Fucking finally,” he whispers, his voice low and inviting, igniting a fire deep within you. He leans in, closing the space between your lips, the anticipation crackling in the air like static electricity. His breath mingles with yours, warm and tantalizing, and in that moment, it feels as if the entire universe has tilted just for the two of you.
Then his lips meet yours in a kiss that’s as warm and gentle as the night around you. It’s soft, exploratory, as if he’s afraid to rush and scare you off, yet there’s a warmth that ignites between you, a spark that feels both thrilling and reassuring. The kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours with a sweet urgency, a rhythm that feels instinctive.
You can taste the hint of mint on his breath, the lingering flavor of a cocktail from earlier in the evening, and it mingles with the scent of his cologne—a heady blend that makes your senses spin. As his fingers slide further down to the small of your back, pulling you closer, it’s like everything has led up to this one perfect, terrifying moment.
He groans against your lips, and it makes your breath catch. “Three years,” he whispers, nipping at your bottom lip until you melt against him with a sigh, “I’ve waited three years to do this.”
You pull him closer by his tie. “Then shut up and kiss me more, Boo.”
He obliges with glee, running his hands up the buttons of your dress until you shiver. With each soft sigh that escapes you, you can feel the warmth pooling deeper, a delicious tension that makes the air around you crackle. The kiss ignites something primal between you, a yearning that has been simmering just beneath the surface, and every part of you is alive with the sensation of him. It feels as if the whole world has faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in this moment—breathless, hearts racing, and tangled in each other.
When you finally pull apart, breathless and wide-eyed, the sounds of the wedding rush back in, laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. But all you can focus on is him, the way his gaze holds yours, sparkling with a mix of surprise and delight, as if he can’t believe what just happened.
For a second, you just stare at each other.
“Wow,” he breathes, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t know we were doing that tonight.”
You can’t help but grin back, the thrill of the moment still coursing through you. “I guess we both had a little waiting to do,” you tease, a soft challenge in your voice, and you can see the spark of mischief in his eyes as he steps closer, closing the distance once more.
As he steps closer, the air between you crackles with electricity. “You know,” he murmurs, hands tickling your waist, fingers brushing just enough to send delightful shivers down your spine, “we should do that again. For science.”
“For science?” you echo, trying to sound serious but failing as a laugh escapes you.
“Absolutely,” he insists, leaning in slightly, his breath warm and inviting. The moment feels suspended in time, as if nothing else exists but the two of you and this playful game you’ve begun.
You pull back just enough to look into his eyes, the mischief swirling there igniting a flutter in your chest. “So, how many trials do you think we should run? Five? Ten?”
He leans in, his forehead nearly brushing against yours, a teasing grin still plastered on his face. His hands find your waist again, this time holding you a little tighter, his fingers warm against your skin, and you feel your heart race in anticipation.
“Maybe we should just keep going until we know for sure,” you suggest, your voice barely a whisper, laden with both challenge and excitement.
“Now that’s the spirit,” he replies, and before you can react, he swoops in, capturing your lips with his once more. This kiss is bolder, filled with laughter and the thrill of newfound freedom, as though you’ve crossed a line into something deeper and more exhilarating together.
As you pull away, breathless and grinning like giddy schoolchildren, you hear Jeonghan’s voice from behind you. “Oi! This is a WEDDING!”
You turn to find Jeonghan approaching with a playful pout, arms crossed over his chest. “I can’t believe you two actually went for it!” He shakes his head, mock-serious. “Seungcheol! You officially win the bet. You said they’d get together at your wedding, and look at this!”
Seungkwan’s hold on you tightens slightly, an instinctive response to the sudden attention. He leans closer, his warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket, and you can feel a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanor, contrasting with his earlier bravado. You exchange sheepish glances, cheeks flushed with embarrassment under Jeonghan’s teasing gaze.
“I can’t believe Jeonghan was right,” Seungkwan mutters, still smiling but now a little bashful, as he nudges you playfully, fingers lingering at your waist as if he’s reluctant to let go.
Jeonghan feigns indignation, throwing his hands up dramatically. “This is unfair! You get a bride AND you win the bet on the same day? What kind of luck is that?”
“Guess you’ll have to deal with it,” Seungcheol says with a laugh, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his new bride’s cheek. She preens with attention, and it makes you lean a little closer to Seungkwan.
You let Jeonghan pout, turning back to Seungkwan with a grin.
“Guess this means I don’t have to keep sabotaging you anymore?” he teases, his hands still resting on your waist.
You laugh, swatting his shoulder playfully. “Oh, no way. I think you’re stuck with me now, Boo Seungkwan. We’ll find a new game to play.”
“Here’s to our next game, then,” Seungkwan declares, raising an imaginary glass. “No more hearts; I’m thinking something more… hands-on.”
Jeonghan pretends to puke, and it makes you laugh that much harder. As you glance around the wedding venue, laughter and celebration filling the air, it dawns on you how different this moment is from where it all began. The pact you had with Seungkwan was never about waiting. It was about finding your way to each other all along.
#boo seungkwan x reader#boo seungkwan x you#boo seungkwan headcanons#boo seungkwan drabbles#boo seungkwan imagines#seungkwan imagines#seungkwan x reader#seungkwan x you#seungkwan headcanons#seungkwan drabbles#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen drabbles#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#svt drabbles#svt headcanons#svt imagines#svt reactions#svt x reader#svt x you#seventeen#svt#boo seungkwan#seungkwan#tara writes#svt: bsk
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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅. al haitham x fem reader
warnings ꒱ hybrid au . bunny reader. bath-time with haithy ! fingering. subtle hand kink. fluff ノ wc ꒱ 2.4k ノ 18+
al haitham finds himself lost in his own musings more often these past moons. instead of his mind circling around any new wonder of the world, he’s recalling small moments enough times that distract him from his usual thinking.
at first, he tried to organize such thoughts into some semblance of order and question why they appeared in the first place until he realized for once, that he didn’t need an answer. he didn’t want one.
while peeling apart that revelation— scraping away at the edges, he wondered if doing so would give him that same sweetness or grant him the seeds to plant more. somehow it was the latter.
the seeds sprouted prickly vines that sunk into both his heart and mind.
now al haitham spends his walk home just remembering tiny exchanges down to the most minute detail. the meeting of fingertips, eyes squinting from the blinding warmth, sleep woven into each wrinkle, frown, and soft giggle.
the scribe had become even more reluctant to be pulled away from his own thinking, but he makes an exception when the one occupying his thoughts excitedly appears before him.
just seconds after he steps through the door of his home, he’s ripped away from his reverie. al haitham is nearly sent back into the outdoors from the solid weight that collides against him. he uncharacteristically loses his footing and the hardwood floor might’ve been his fate if not for his fast reflexes.
pillowy arms latch tightly around his slender waist and fluffy ears tickle his abdomen. face nuzzling into his lower stomach, carelessly grazing his groin, you whine, “haitham . . . you’re finally back.”
the smell of his scent mingled with the aroma of the desert warms your senses. leftover speckles of the granular sand on his clothes poke at your skin, and yet you pull him closer.
“I missed you sooooo much.”
he nods, “I’ve returned.”
you tilt up to look at him with your dolly eyes that enamor him. eyes that once belonged to a creature that only sparked his curiosity was now a companion.
his hand rests on your head, careful to put it between your floppy ears. the tip of his fingers scratch and caress the surface and he’s rewarded with your expectant purr.
your tail flits from the bubbling eagerness to receive more of his affection. he recalls his roommate chiding him for not being soft enough with you, but he begged to differ.
reminded of the blonde, he wonders aloud, “is kaveh here?”
al haitham doesn’t make a habit of thinking about the architect, but he’s grown wary. it seemed like kaveh had also fixed his attention to you. a ribbon unfamiliar to al haitham adorns your hair and there could only be one person responsible.
“mhm! he’s in his room.”
eyes run down the curves of your body. his oversized shirt did nothing but define the slopes of your breast and rise above your tail perched above your butt.
“what did I say about your clothes ?”
arms falling to your sides, your lips jut out into a tempting pout. “I know what you said, but I’m wearing panties this time,” you petulantly mumble.
you had a terrible habit of walking around completely bare. while the loose shirt was a step up from complete nudity, he didn't need kaveh to see anything else. he recalls the architect walking in on your naked body on multiple occasions.
“I suppose,” he hums. “still, I’d prefer if he didn’t catch any more glimpses of you.”
you chuckle lightheartedly at the man displaying clear signs of jealousy, but it’s interrupted by a yawn. your head shakes reactively trying to rid your body of the drowsiness and play it off in an effort to fool the scribe into letting you stay up later but, nothing made it past him.
“it is rather late. let’s get you to bed. '' he reaches out to hold your hand, but you don't take it.
head tilted to the side you ask, “I need to take a bubble bath first ! are you gonna come?”
you lean closer to him, fullest parts pressing against his athletic frame in a cute attempt to entice him , but he shakes his head. ever the busiest scribe.
“I have some paperwork to finish and I wanted to catch up on some light reading before I retire for the night .”
your ears droop.
“but–”
your ears perk back up.
“I could help you, if that’s what you want,” he offers.
you instantly spring back to life. “oh yes, please!” you squeal excitedly, grabbing his hand to lead him noisily up the stairs. nearly tripping over yourself, still you drag him to the bathroom.
“be careful,” he scolds, but you just laugh at his tense and worried expression.
shutting the door after you both enter, you hop up on the counter and wait patiently.
al haitham shakes his head, a ghost of a smile forming. he takes off his gloves and rests them on the cluttered sink. this mess was undoubtedly your doing, and he makes a note to bring it up later. he turns on the hot water and when it rises a bit higher, he dips his hand to feel the temperature and he's quick to pull it out. he preferred the water to be much more tepid while you liked it to be boiling.
he senses your eyes on him watching as he pours the vanilla-scented soap into the water waiting for the bubbles to form into clouds.
when he finally turns to face you, he’s met with a bright smile only you could own. not a word was spoken. silence was enough to consume the delicate air between the both of you .
you decide to hop off the counter and pull the cotton t-shirt off your body. al haitham moves to crouch, resting on his knee to pull down your underwear. your hand leans on his shoulder as you take your time to step out of the undergarment.
left foot first and then the right.
you do a little hop when you almost lose your balance, but he steadies you, staring at your bare cunt.
you turn your back to him and he ogles at your ass before standing to his full height. towering over you and standing close behind, you feel his breath grazing your neck. agile fingers sweep your hair towards your shoulder blades, tickling the warmth of your skin to unhook your necklace that acted as a collar. he places the fine jewelry on the sink and extends his arm towards you once more.
you place your hand between his and he leads you to the tub. you submerge yourself completely in the water and al haitham plays with the bubbles before washing you up.
you both use the moment to admire each other's features. gray-ish hair hovers over his eyes that betray no emotion and still you can make out his affections. your gaze trails down to his nose, lips, and wide shoulders. the muscles in his arms flex as he drags the soapy cloth along your body and you bask in the moment before he decides to break the silence.
“what did you do today?” the cloth glides over your chest, easily soothing you.
“nothin’ much. kaveh came home early and he bought me a slice of cake.”
of course he did. kaveh always had a tendency to obsess over pretty things so it was only natural that he’d flock to you– a cute and helpless bunny. ever since this place has equally become your home kaveh wasn’t good at being discreet. his touches lingered for far too long and al haitham became keen on how much time kaveh spent with you while he was away at the akademiya. but he could at least feel secure knowing you were safe.
hybrids, a species often neglected and exploited needed to be protected, and he guessed he could rest easy knowing he had another pair of capable hands to rely on.
“h-haithy !”
your sudden cry lures him out of yet another daydream but this time he’s flustered. he understands the alarm in your eyes when he realizes how close his hand was to your nether regions, crassly nudging your cunt for the past few minutes.
he exhales and sputters at the sight and he’s quick to pull his arm away, but you stop him. it’s the first you’ve seen him taken aback and you want to tease him like he does to you , but you can’t—not when desire engulfs you to the point of ruin.
“n-no ! . . . leave it please ?”
both of your hands tug his further into the water, knees coming closer together around his his limb, just until you feel that graze against heat.
al haitham remains quiet, closely watching your next move to see what you’d do now. your head reclines back to rest on the tile wall, your fingers guide his own to your middle, and with steady humps against his wrist you feel relief that rids that redundant ache.
“. ‘haitham, can we? . . just for a little bit ?”
he didn’t think he could say no even in a light-hearted jest.
you nearly collapse in on yourself when you finally feel him becoming receptive to your inclination.
his fingers feathers at the seam of your lips. instead of making it easy for you, he’d rather give you the tools to bring yourself to your own high. he would only give you a running start.
his palms slide up cupping and then squeezing the plumpness of your cunt. it fits perfectly in his hand, hot and sticky even when submerged under the water. a finger slides down to settle on your clit, circular rubs turn into slow strokes. if you wanted to feel more, you’d have to work for it yourself.
your small hand wraps around his wrists trying to feel more of him. “hnnn . . want them inside, haithy.”
he’s deliberately pressing down on the sensitive bulb hoping to draw out your cute moans, ignoring your simple request. al haitham's gaze is glued to your tummy folding over and your spread legs. between them is perfect pussy spoiled and eager to receive more of his touch.
his digits slide down your outer lips to press down on your hole. probing it, teasing it until it twitches greedily for more. he moves around the orifice collecting slick that struggles to disperse in the water.
“ haitham . . .” you beg. his eyes flicker to your pleading ones. lip tucked under your teeth and brows drawn tight, your chest expands as you greedily suck in air, hips gyrating into his palm hoping for him to satisfy you. “please.”
he smirks and to your luck, two fingers enter and stretch you. long and nimble things your pussy takes the shape of. they scissor and separate to feel the heaviness of your walls clamping down.
“so tight.”
the veins in his flexing arm are prominent. you see the force behind his movements as well as feel it. his biceps bulge while his fingers jerk you to completion . the sounds of you the splashing water and your whiny moans further arouse you
“you’re close to cumming already ?” he provokes. “ from just my fingers, too. it seems I must train you just a bit more.”
the bass in his voice sends a tremor down your spine. his words of encouragement provoke more of your thoughtless pants and the swivel of your hips. just a bit more—more of his knuckles stretching your walls, more of those eyes you fell in love with looking back at you with an unspoken, ravenous haze.
it makes you bashful. your damp bunny ears fall over your eyes, shielding them from his hungry stare.
“oh?” his expression darkens and his tone drips in a taunting and authoritative tone.
“are you hiding from me now ?”
it should make you quiver, but you know him well enough by now. as stoic as he may appear, the caress of your folds tell a different story.
you foolishly part your mouth to audibly confirm but a broken gasp escapes at the coil slowly winding up inside of you.
“you shouldn’t be so shy. wouldn’t you rather see who’s making you writhe? don’t you want to see how you’re fucking my hand like a wild bunny rabbit in heat?”
your hair sticks to your face from the steamy room and the sweat that gleams your skin. you pull your floppy ears away from your eyes and you’re met with the sight of his handsome face. contrary to his expression, the sight before him acted as a fire, melting him into remnants of himself.
his cock twitches against his snug pants, itching to enter your gooey cunt. how well you’d behave— how obedient you’ll be when he seats you on his member and you’ll hop up and down like good bunnies are supposed to.
with how generously your pussy has been tugging on his fingers, he’s more than willing to test that theory.
your eyes are tempted to screw shut but you want to watch. sensing your conflict, al haitham nods in approval to coax you.
“that’s more like it. you’re hard to resist when you’re so obedient.”
his fingers work themselves inside of you, precise thrusts, muscles defined and on display. he’s so . . . big, so filling and you might just lose it.
a prolonged gasp echoes as your thighs squeeze around his muscular arm. the continuous strokes of your sticky walls forces you upright into a sweltering mess. your pussy’s throbbing quickens erratically until he feels the rhythm steady out into a slow pulse— suckles that pulls his digits deeper toward yours sacred spot until you couldn’t anymore.
your senses fail when his thumb rubs your little clit to help drag out your end. you were nothing but a drooly and overstimulated shell of yourself, with meek moans falling from your mouth.
“yeah, that’s a good girl.”
he doesn’t stop milking you. his other hand reaches out to scratch behind your furry ears in praise while you crumble to pieces. he carefully removes his fingers from inside of you and pats your pussy that puffed from his ministrations. it pulsated around nothing—twitching like a bunny’s nose.
“I’d say you’re more than satisfied.”
you’re exhausted and still you nuzzle into his palm. what was once supposed to be a relaxing bath was now a drawn-out session of your dear owner playing with your sore cunt. still he admires your tired and spent state moving to actually get you clean this time.
“let’s get you to bed.”
#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა#al haitham x reader#al haitham x y/n#al haitham x you#al haitham x reader smut#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x female reader#alhaitham x reader smut#genshin impact smut#hybrid reader#hybrid au
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ೃ࿔ “INVISIBLE STRING THEORY” MASTERLIST
the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?
total word count: 13.8k
𖦹 chapter one- grief is a difficult thing for anyone to navigate, but ellie finds it impossible to tread through her bottomless depression. all roads seem to lead to nowhere and everyday is a struggle. after a run in with the law after a ptsd episode, her close friends decide that it's do or die. a quick phone call to joel is all it takes to turn her world upside down. moving back to wyoming is a last ditch effort to save the scarred marine. the woman has no idea what's waiting for her back home. . . or who.
𖦹 chapter two- it's easy to pretend that things are normal when she's with joel. she can put on a brave face. grin and bear it, as they say. your sudden appearance in ellie's life hits her like a battering ram, and she finds it impossible not to be drawn to you. joel lets her know that you are no stranger to loss. the two of you seem to have a lot in common. a lost engagement ring, a smitten ellie and a minor mental breakdown.
𖦹 chapter three- you're tired of waking up in bed cold and alone. abby would have wanted you to find joy again. . . so why can't you? ellie shows up bright and early to help you with your duties on the farm, which is when you realize just how irresistible she is. for the first time in a while you feel comfortable to be yourself around someone, and she feels the exact same way. she shares some hard truths about herself and discovers what was once lost to you.
𖦹 chapter four- to be continued . . .
ೃ࿔ fic "soundtrack"
i fall to pieces - patsy cline
i walk the line - johnny cash
big black car - gregory ivan isakov
blue eyes crying in the rain - willie nelson
streets of laredo - marty robbins
plastic jesus - tia blake
almost gone - my terrible friend
death don’t have no mercy - rev. gary davis
i’m so lonesome i could cry - hank williams
god’s gonna cut you down - johnny cash
#invisible string theory fic#invisible string theory#masterlist#ellie williams fic#ellie williams#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x reader#the last of us#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams smut#the last of us 2#tlou#tlou part two#tlou part 2#modern!ellie williams#marine!ellie williams#lesbian#sapphic#wlw
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