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0omillo0 · 2 days ago

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Felix angst/comfort (you can use this for the clingy series) where Felix feels the constant need to spend time with Y/N ( also rip this hits home for me) and Y/N is, for the first time in their life, not clingy. Like Felix perceives their actions as clingy but in their mind they feels free and as least clingy as they’ve ever been. And then Felix does the whole calls them clingy. And they have to take a moment because they, for once, felt so confident in themselves that they weren’t being clingy, and now they are second guessing themselves. (This is weirdly personal, I’ve been here before, please give mega angst but even more comfort)

Calling you clingy

Felix x Reader ; angst -> comfort

a/n: I hope this is what you wanted! merry christmas loves

Felix had always been a gentle, steady presence in your life—a warmth you could lean into when the world felt cold. His kindness had a way of pulling you out of your head, grounding you when your insecurities threatened to take over. You loved him for it.

But lately, his warmth felt different. He’d been clinging to you in ways you didn’t recognize, filling the spaces between your conversations with a soft desperation. He was more insistent on spending time together—seeking you out even when you felt perfectly fine sitting in your solitude.

At first, it was easy to brush off. Felix was affectionate by nature, and you’d always loved that about him. But when his gentle invitations turned into subtle comments—“Oh, you’re busy again?”—and his eyes lingered on you just a beat too long, you felt a weight you couldn’t explain.

It hurt, because for the first time in your life, you weren’t chasing validation. You weren’t battling the constant fear of being too much. Instead, you’d been reclaiming a sense of independence—spending time with yourself and learning to love the quiet.

You had felt proud. Free. For once, you didn’t feel the urge to text Felix every hour or overthink every interaction. And it had been working. The days felt lighter, and you believed you were finding a balance between nurturing your relationship with him and nurturing yourself.

And yet, tonight unraveled everything.

“Hey,” Felix called softly, pulling your attention away from the pile of papers on your desk.

The sound of his voice was cautious, hesitant, and you immediately turned to face him. “Yeah?” you asked, a small smile on your face. “What’s up?”

Felix shifted in place, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he searched for the right words. He looked like a boy on the verge of confessing something he thought would ruin everything. “Can I… ask you something?”

“Of course.” You set down your pen, turning your full attention to him.

His gaze dropped, and you noticed the way his hands fidgeted at his sides. “Do you think… maybe you’ve been a little clingy lately?”

For a second, the words didn’t register.

Clingy?

Your heart sank, the air leaving your lungs in an instant. The weight of his question crashed into you, heavy and suffocating, as if the room had suddenly shrunk around you. “Clingy?” you echoed, your voice small and disbelieving.

He nodded, wincing slightly as if bracing for backlash. “I mean… you’re always around. You always want to hang out, and I love being with you—I do. But sometimes I feel like…” He trailed off, clearly unsure how to soften the blow.

“Like I’m suffocating you,” you finished for him, bitterness creeping into your tone.

“No!” Felix said quickly, his eyes wide and panicked. “No, it’s not that. I just… I need a little space sometimes. And I don’t want you to take that the wrong way.”

But how else could you take it? You stared at him, your stomach twisting violently. His words felt like a knife turning in an old wound you’d spent years trying to heal.

Clingy.

That label had haunted you for as long as you could remember. It was the word that stuck to you like a shadow, the fear that kept you second-guessing every relationship, every friendship. But you had worked so hard to overcome it. You’d been careful—so careful—to give Felix the space he deserved while finally giving yourself the freedom to breathe.

And now, the one person who made you feel safe had torn that progress apart.

“Felix…” you started, your voice trembling. You swallowed hard, willing yourself not to cry. “I’ve been trying so hard not to be clingy. Like… so hard.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What?”

“I’ve been holding back,” you said, the words tumbling out in a bitter rush. “I’ve been giving you space. I haven’t been texting you constantly, or asking to hang out every second, or freaking out if I don’t hear from you for a while. I thought I was finally getting it right.” Your voice cracked, and you looked away, trying to rein in the tears that threatened to spill.

Felix’s expression shifted, the weight of your words hitting him like a freight train. “Y/N…”

“But I guess even when I think I’m doing better, it’s still not enough,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” Felix said, stepping forward. His face crumpled with regret as he reached for you. “No, that’s not true. I didn’t mean it like that. I swear—”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, stepping back out of his reach. Your hands clenched at your sides as you tried to steady your breath. “I get it. You need space. I’ll give you your space.”

“No, Y/N, don’t do that,” Felix said, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t—”

“I just need a minute, okay?” you said quickly, the words coming out sharper than you intended.

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Felix standing there with his heart in his throat.

The door clicked shut behind you, and the silence of your room felt deafening. You sank onto your bed, your mind spiraling with questions you couldn’t answer.

Had you been too much? Had you failed to notice something you should have?

You replayed every interaction in your head, dissecting your choices and second-guessing the progress you’d been so proud of.

Meanwhile, Felix sat outside your door, his knees pulled to his chest. His head was heavy in his hands, guilt eating away at him with every passing second. He didn’t know what had possessed him to say those words—words that clearly cut you so deeply.

Finally, he knocked softly, his voice trembling. “Y/N?”

There was no response.

“Please,” he tried again, his throat tight. “I didn’t mean what I said. I wasn’t thinking. Please, let me in.”

After a long moment, the door opened, revealing your tear-streaked face. Felix’s heart broke all over again. Without a second thought, he pulled you into his arms, holding you as tightly as he could.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t realize how hard you’d been trying… and I just—” He exhaled shakily. “I was scared.”

You stiffened slightly in his arms. “Scared?”

He nodded, pulling back to meet your eyes. “I thought maybe you didn’t need me as much anymore. And I know that’s selfish, but it made me panic. I thought maybe you were pulling away because you didn’t want to be around me.”

His words sank in slowly, and your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. “Felix… I wasn’t pulling away. I was trying to find a balance. For me. For us.”

“I know,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “And I ruined it. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You’re not clingy. You’re amazing, and I’m so, so lucky to have you.”

His sincerity broke through your walls, and you leaned into his embrace, letting his warmth comfort you. “I just don’t want to lose you,” you murmured.

“You won’t,” Felix promised, holding you tighter. “I’ll do better. I’ll listen better. And I’ll never call you clingy again. I swear.”

You stayed in his arms for what felt like forever, the steady beat of his heart grounding you as the ache in your chest slowly began to ease. Felix didn’t let go, his arms wrapped around you with a desperation that spoke louder than any words he could say.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his breath warm against your hair. “I didn’t mean any of it. I just… I messed up. I didn’t realize how much you’d been trying, and instead of supporting you, I let my own fears get in the way.”

You swallowed hard, the knot in your throat loosening with every word. “You really thought I didn’t need you anymore?”

He nodded, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His gaze was filled with regret, but there was something else there too—a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I got scared. You seemed so confident, so… happy on your own. And I thought maybe I was the only one who still needed us as much as I do.”

You shook your head, a soft, disbelieving laugh escaping your lips. “Felix, I need us. I always have. I just…” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I needed to know I could stand on my own too. Not because I don’t love you, but because I wanted to be better for you. For both of us.”

His expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “You are better, Y/N. You’re amazing. And I should have told you that instead of making you feel like… like this.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Felix was quick to catch it, his touch impossibly gentle. “I don’t think you realize how much I look up to you,” he said quietly. “You’ve been so strong, and I’m… I’m so proud of you. I hate that I made you second-guess yourself.”

His words cracked something open inside you, and you leaned into his hand, letting yourself feel the warmth and sincerity in his touch. “You mean that?” you asked softly.

“Every word,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “You’ve been so brave, Y/N. I see it. And I’ll spend every day reminding you how incredible you are if that’s what it takes to make up for tonight.”

For the first time that night, you felt the heaviness in your chest begin to lift. The sting of his earlier words lingered, but his apology—his love—was genuine.

You gave him a small, tentative smile. “You don’t have to make up for anything, Felix. Just… promise me we’ll talk next time, okay? No more letting things fester.”

He nodded quickly, his lips twitching into a faint, relieved smile. “I promise. I’ll do better. No more keeping things to myself. And no more calling you clingy. Ever.”

You let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “Good. Because that word is banned forever.”

“Forever,” Felix agreed, a playful light returning to his eyes. He shifted, pulling you closer until your foreheads touched. “You’re not clingy, Y/N. You’re perfect. Just the way you are.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment. For the first time in hours, you felt truly at ease.

Later that night, you found yourselves curled up on the couch, the tension of the evening a distant memory. Felix’s arms were wrapped around you, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm as the quiet hum of a movie played in the background.

“Y/N?” he murmured after a while, his voice soft and contemplative.

“Yeah?” you replied, tilting your head to look at him.

“I’m really lucky to have you,” he said, his cheeks turning pink as the words left his mouth.

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “You’re not so bad yourself, Felix.”

He laughed softly, his lips brushing against your temple. “I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to,” you said gently, resting your hand over his. “We’ll figure it all out. Together.”

Felix’s arms tightened around you, his lips curving into a soft smile against your skin. “Together,” he echoed, and in that moment, you knew he meant it with every fiber of his being.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t questioning yourself. You weren’t doubting your place in his life or worrying about being too much. Felix’s love wrapped around you like a promise—a reassurance that you didn’t have to change to be enough.

@intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght @flourishmoon

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hazzashouse · 1 day ago

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Forgotten - Harry Styles one-shot

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! This one is a bit sad but I hope you’ll like it!

Summary: After Harry forgets an important anniversary, tensions boil over into a heated argument that leaves both of you hurting. Harry is forced to confront his mistakes and the cracks forming in your relationship. Determined to make things right, he sets out to prove that his love for you is stronger than his faults.

Triggers: arguments/raised voices, miscommunication and emotional tension, feelings of neglect/loneliness in a relationship, brief mention of crying and hurt feelings

Pairing: Harry Styles x female reader

Harry stepped into the house, running a hand through his hair as he closed the door behind him. It had been a long day, back-to-back meetings and calls about the tour, and all he could think about was collapsing into bed.

But when he looked up, you were standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed tightly, your expression a mix of anger and something sharper—disappointment.

His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Your gaze flicked toward the dining table, and his stomach dropped. The candles, the neatly set plates, the untouched food—it all clicked too late.

“It’s our anniversary,” you said quietly, your voice trembling with restrained anger.

“Shit.” The word slipped out before he could stop it. He ran a hand through his hair again, cursing himself. “I—fuck, I forgot. I didn’t mean to, I just—”

“Got busy?” you snapped, cutting him off. “That’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it, Harry?”

“It’s not an excuse,” he shot back, a defensive edge creeping into his tone. “You know how crazy things have been. I’m trying to keep everything together—”

“Everything except us,” you interrupted, your voice rising. “Do you even care anymore? Or am I just supposed to sit here, waiting for you to remember I exist?”

His jaw clenched. “That’s not fair. You know I love you. I’m doing all of this for us—for you.”

“For me?” You laughed, bitter and sharp. “Don’t put this on me. I didn’t ask for your schedule to swallow you whole. I didn’t ask to be forgotten.”

“Forgotten?” he repeated, his frustration bubbling over. “I’m out there working my ass off, trying to balance everything, and you think I’ve just forgotten about you? That’s not how this works!”

“It’s exactly how it feels!”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, but he didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to explain, to make you understand how much he hated being away, how much he hated this argument. But the words got stuck in his throat, tangled up in his exhaustion.

You shook your head, tears shining in your eyes. “I can’t do this right now.”

Before he could stop you, you grabbed a blanket from the closet and headed for the couch.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with desperation. “Don’t do this.”

But you didn’t look back.

———————

The house was silent, the weight of your argument pressing heavily on Harry’s chest. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word you’d said. Forgotten. The word echoed in his mind, a sharp reminder of how badly he’d messed up.

Around 2 a.m., he gave up on sleep, his body restless and his guilt gnawing at him. Quietly, he slipped out of bed and padded down the stairs.

There you were, curled up on the couch, your face turned toward the backrest, your body stiff even in sleep. The blanket you’d brought was tangled around your legs, barely covering you.

Harry’s chest tightened at the sight. You looked so small, so vulnerable, and it killed him to think he was the reason you were here instead of beside him in bed.

Carefully, he grabbed another blanket from the chair and draped it over you, tucking it gently around your shoulders. He crouched beside the couch for a moment, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

———————

When Harry woke up the next morning, you were already gone. A note on the counter simply said, At work. See you later.

The pang of guilt in his chest only deepened. He couldn’t leave things like this—not after last night.

When you came home that evening, the house smelled incredible—like garlic, herbs, and something warm and inviting.

You stepped into the kitchen, dropping your bag by the door, and froze. The dining table had been reset, fresh candles flickering softly, and a vase of flowers sat in the center. Harry was there, standing by the stove, wearing an apron that made you bite back a reluctant smile.

“Hey,” he said, turning to face you, his expression equal parts nervous and hopeful.

“What’s all this?” you asked cautiously.

He stepped closer, wiping his hands on the apron before pulling it off. “This is me trying to make it up to you. For last night. For forgetting. For everything.”

You stared at him, your emotions tangled. “Harry, I—”

“Please,” he interrupted gently, his eyes searching yours. “Let me say this.”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, waiting.

“I know I’ve been…distracted,” he admitted, his voice low. “And I know I’ve been terrible at showing it lately, but I love you. More than anything. I hate that I made you feel like you don’t matter, because you do. You’re my everything, and I never want you to doubt that.”

Your throat tightened, and you looked away, afraid he’d see the tears welling in your eyes.

“I’m not perfect,” he continued. “I’ll probably mess up again. But I want to do better. For you. For us. If you’ll let me.”

When you looked back at him, the vulnerability in his expression made your chest ache. Slowly, you stepped closer, your walls crumbling. “You really hurt me, Harry.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice thick with guilt. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes.”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He pulled you close, his chin resting on top of your head as you finally let the tears fall.

For the first time in weeks, you felt like you had him back.

The two of you ate dinner together, talking and laughing like you used to. It wasn’t perfect—there were still things to work through—but it was a start.

And for now, that was enough.

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saintobio · 13 hours ago

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blue christmas

a sincerely yours christmas special. non-canon. angst. 900 wc. part of the sy side-stories.

It was quiet that night.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air while the warm glow of Christmas lights twinkled on the tree. Outside, snow drifted lazily to the ground, covering the surroundings of your home in a soft, pile of white. It felt peaceful—almost too peaceful—and you sat back on the couch, lounging after a nice Christmas dinner with your teenage son, Sachiro, who cradled a mug of cocoa in his hands beside you.

You smiled faintly, admiring how much he had grown, and how this quiet night seemed so far removed from the all the drama that had once filled your life. But the comfort of the moment didn’t last long before he spoke. His voice, deep like his father’s, broke the silence of your supposed peaceful night.

“Mom,” he began, “Why didn’t you ever choose to remarry Dad?”

The question hit you harder than expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. Really, what were the right words? You had never been good at talking about these things, and you didn’t expect that your son would put you on the hot seat like this. The past, especially those connected to Satoru—sometimes it felt easier to leave them untouched, forgotten. As it should be.

You glanced at your son, unsure of how to explain the complicated web of emotions that tangled inside you. “I thought... it was for the best,” you said quietly, voice soft as you searched for something that sounded right. His question was too sudden to be given a decent answer. “You know your Dad and I just couldn’t make it work. And for you, for us, it was better this way.”

Sachiro nodded slowly as if he already knew the answer, yet his fingers tightened around the mug. You could see the way he was processing your words, as if he was hoping for better reasoning. He had never even known the sibling he had lost until recently, the gap that finally forced his father out of your lives. Sachiro only saw the quiet love that both his parents shared, but it wasn’t enough, not for either of you.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if my sibling were here?” he asked, clearly inciting. “If you kept her, mom. Would she be celebrating with us tonight?”

You felt the ache in your chest as the question landed. You knew Sachiro’s question came from a place of grudge, aiming really well at a spot that hurt the most. And it did good at bringing you a pang of grief from a memory you had tried to bury long ago. You weren’t numb. Of course the loss still stung, even all these years later.

“I think about it all the time,” you murmured, unable to hide the shame in your voice. “What she would’ve been like. How she would’ve looked like. But... I don’t want to remember, Sachiro. I’ve made peace with it.”

But he wasn’t done. “Then, why didn’t you try again?” His voice was so gentle, yet so curious. “Why didn’t you remarry anyone else? I mean... Dad’s married to someone else now. And they’re having another baby. Shouldn’t that be a sign?”

The words felt like a stab to your chest, your heart shattering with an emotion you couldn’t name. Satoru’s life had moved on without you, far far too long ago, yet every reminder of it still cut deep.

“I’m happy for him,” you said softly, the words stuck in your throat. “But that doesn’t mean I want the same outcome for myself. It’s... complicated.”

Marrying someone else again was not in your books.

You could feel the intensity of Sachiro’s gaze on you, as if waiting for more. But you didn’t have more to give. You didn’t know how to explain the parts of you that had been shattered, the pieces that had never fully healed. Even if your own son hated you for it.

“I just want you to be happy, Mom,” Sachiro said, turning away from you, his gaze landing on the Christmas tree. “I want you to have what you deserve. When I have my own family someday, I don’t want you to be spending your Christmas all alone.”

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you loved him, how much you would do for him. How hard it was to move on, how hard it was to see his father moving on with someone else. But the words needn’t be said. At least, not for tonight.

And then, just as quickly as the moment had come, it faded into a kaleidoscope of memories. The world around you shifted, and the warmth of the fire and the smell of Christmas began to dissolve. Suddenly, you were back in your bed, heart pounding recklessly in the darkness.

You woke up eyes wide in surprise, until the reality of your room finally made sense to you. You blinked, trying to steady yourself. It was a dream. It was all a dream.

Sighing, you let your head fall into your hands. And just for a moment, you let yourself mourn the future you would never have. The family you would never see, the happiness you could never quite reach.

But as the soft glow of the Christmas lights flickered in the silent night, you slowly allowed yourself to breathe. Tomorrow would come. But tonight, you would let the dream linger just a little longer.

#series: sincerely yours #sy drabbles

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silencesscreams · 1 day ago

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hiii, idk if ur still active but I love ur writing and I was wondering if u could maybe do a james smut with a Christmas theme! tyyy💓

Merry Christmas, I miss you

james potter x f!reader

summary: you and James have been broken up since Halloween. Until he calls you on Christmas Day after finding out that you both were spending the evening alone. (muggle+modern day au)

warnings: use of y/n, reader is shorter than James, swearing, smut (MDNI!), afab reader, nipple sucking, oral/fingering (f receiving), praise!!!, penetration, multiple orgasms(2), slight dom!james, reader has hair long enough to be stroked, kind of make-up sex tbh, unprotected + use of the pill, creampie, not proofread at all 😭

a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! I immediately thought of this song, hope you like it <3

You hated spending Christmas alone.

When your family was getting plane tickets two months ago, you said you’d spend Christmas with James, who also cancelled his plans with his family, just for him to break up with you two weeks later.

There was no one you could spend the end of year holidays with, all of your friends were with their families or together.

James absolutely hated the silence in his apartment.

Sirius and Remus were spending the holiday together at cabin they found online and Peter had gone home to his family.

James hated having brought this upon himself.

Were you with somebody else out there? Were you meeting their family? Were they in your apartment?

It was killing him.

What he hated most of all was breaking up with you during a stupid fight which he didn’t even remember the reason why it happened. He just remembers being drunk and stupid.

So he called Sirius, because that was what he usually did when things went to shit, and also because Sirius was close to you and he would probably know what James had been asking himself for the past hour.

The phone rang about six times until he finally picked up.

“What do you want?”

“What do you think y/n is doing right now?” He heard Sirius groan.

“Why do you care about what she’s doing?” James didn’t answer. “She’s alone at her place, don’t call her.”

“You think I should call her?” He decided to ignore any advice that went against whatever he wanted.

“God, he’s so fucking confusing.” he heard Remus say.

“Moony, do you think I should call her?”

“James, you’re going to do whatever you want, aren’t you?”

“Always, but that’s not the point.”

“Do what your heart says and leave us alone pleeeeaseee!” Sirius said and hung up.

James dialed your number on his phone, he memorized it so there was no real meaning to why he deleted it a while ago.

When you read the name on your phone’s screen once it started vibrating you thought you’d faint.

You wished that he had butt dialed you, or that maybe he called the wrong person. You knew you were wrong.

“James?” You said as you picked up and paused the TV in front of you.

“y/n. Hi, merry Christmas.” He sat up straight on the couch. “What are you doing?”

You couldn’t believe him.

“What?” You asked, even though you heard him clearly the first time.

“What are you doing tonight?”

So he was booty calling you on Christmas, was that it?

“I’m currently watching every single sitcom Christmas episode I can think of. You?”

“I’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past three hours. Are you by yourself?”

“Yes.” You replied, almost whispering. You couldn’t understand him.

“Me too. Can I come pick you up? We could maybe watch every single sitcom Christmas episode together. I have some food here.” He was already getting up and putting on his shoes outside of the apartment.

“Sure.”

You sighed after hanging up, what could go wrong? You’d go, you’d eat his food, you wouldn’t hook up with him and you’d be home by midnight. It was fine. Everything was under control.

Until you got into his car.

Until you felt his smell, the three in one shampoo that had the sweetest smell a three in one shampoo could ever have.

“Hey, you look great.” He said, looking at you as you put on the seatbelt.

“Thanks, you too.”

“Did you change your hair?” James asked, starting to drive.

“Kind of, yes.” You looked out the window and then back at him. “You look the same.”

He let out a small laugh. “I do.”

It was usually a 10 minute drive from your apartment to his, in which you awkwardly played with the hem of your skirt and made small talk.

“I have some frozen pizza at home, we could make popcorn too if you like, I bought one of those air popping machine things a few weeks ago. Actually, Sirius got that.” He said as he parked the car on the empty street in front of the apartment complex.

“I’d like that.”

Maybe you believed everything was still in control until you entered his apartment, the floor was cold and you left your shoes at the door. He locked it behind you.

“You remember the place don’t you?” You nodded. “There’s a few blankets and a sweater on the couch and you can turn on the TV if you want to. I’ll take the pizza out of the freezer and get the popcorn machine ready.”

You decided on starting with The Office’s season two Christmas episode, then you watch the other eight. Or you’d move to New Girl, then maybe Brooklyn 99, possibly Seinfeld.

“Bad news!” You heard James say from the kitchen. “Theres no corn to pop” he said, coming out and looking at you sitting on the couch.

“It’s alright, how about we watch this one and then I can help you out with the pizza?” You moved to the right side of the couch, inviting him to sit on your left.

You did realize you had no control over anything once he sat and instinctively wrapped his left arm around your shoulder. That might’ve also been when he realized he had no control.

“What are we watching?” He asked as you covered your legs with the blanket on the couch, he pulled some of it to himself and shared with you, your knees touching under it.

“I thought we could start by the office, we obviously won’t watch all of them, so we can move to New Girl afterwards, then maybe we could do Brooklyn 99 or Seinfeld because I know you like those two.” You looked at him and he hummed.

“That’s a good plan.” You smiled at him and started the episode.

When Micheal started talking about the Yankee Swap, James took his left arm from off your shoulder and put it under the covers to scratch his calf. You missed the feeling of him over your shoulders, until he rested his hand on your upper knee.

You felt your entire body go hot until the end of the episode, when he took the blanket from off you both and supported himself on your thigh to get up from the couch, ‘accidentally’ giving it a light squeeze. You thought you were about to go insane and paused the TV, maybe it really was a Christmas booty call.

“I only have pepperoni, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you put it in the oven? I’ll get us something to drink.”

“Sure.” He brushed his hand against your waist as he moved behind you to open the fridge.

“There’s Diet Coke, wine and orange juice.” He looked back at you.

“Wine.” You answered, watching him take the bottle out along with a can of Coke.

“Aren’t you going to drink with me?” You grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and moved next to him.

“I have to drive you home.” He smiled at you.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” You smiled back at him.

“I can’t let you walk or uber home.” He put your hair behind your ear.

“I could crash here, if there’s space for me.” You almost whispered, looking at him doe eyed.

“There’s always space for you in my bed.” He stated, his voice low as he poured wine into both of the glasses.

He watched you take a sip and realized you were holding back a laugh.

“What is it?” He smiled.

“This sucks.” You giggled softly. He took a sip from his glass and made a face.

“Oh my god,” he laughed “you have to blame Remus though, I don’t think I bought wine more than once in my entire life.” You smiled, remembering the bottle he brought to your house on your third date. He moved closer to you, resting his hands on your waist.

“I’m sorry about the wine.” He whispered and you felt his breathing against your face, you hummed and looked up at him, moving your hands to the back of his neck, gently stroking his hair.

“Fuck.” He whispered, looking into your eyes. He slowly leaned in, you could feel your heartbeat as he got closer to you. You felt his lips brush against yours and then his phone’s alarm went off, scaring the both of you.

“The damn pizza” he muttered, turning off the oven but not taking the food out. You leaned against the counter and looked at James, who put his hands on your waist again, asking you “Where were we?”, making you laugh for the first time in a while.

You threw your hands over his neck as he hugged you so tightly that you thought maybe you both could merge into one.

“I missed you.” You whispered into his ear.

“Yeah?” He teased you and you hummed. “I missed you so much, love.” He started kissing your neck, holding you tightly by your lower waist.

“I’m so sorry. For everything.” He pulled away, looking into your eyes. “Let me make it up to you, please.” You nodded.

He brought his lips to yours and kissed you quickly.

“Use your words.” He muttered against your mouth and your breath hitched.

“Yes, please.” You replied and he brought his lips back against yours, this time you parted your mouth and he let his tongue slip into it. His lips moved hungrily against yours, the hands on your waist quickly moving to cup your ass firmly. Before you knew it, you were moving against him, glad you’d chosen to wear a skirt as breathy moans slipped from your lips against his.

All of a sudden James pulled his lips away from yours,

“Go to my room, I’ll be there in a second.” He said, pointing to the corridor.

You left the door open and sat on his bed, waiting for him. Everything was the same, except for the photograph of the both of you he had framed and left on his desk, which was now nowhere to be seen. He came into the room with something behind his back.

“I got this for you in November, in case we saw each other today. I know it’s not much but it reminded me of you.” He handed you a black corduroy box, which had a gold necklace with a small heart pendant.

“Oh James, this is so pretty.” You looked at him smiling and closing the box and putting it on his nightstand “I’ll put it on later, thank you so much.”

“Let me make everything up to you, I truly am sorry.” He said, taking off his glasses and sitting in front of you on the bed. You put your hands behind his neck and pulled him in, kissing him gently as he moved closer to you, his knee between your legs.

You laid down and his mouth started to make its way to your neck, giving it soft kisses then gently biting and sucking, making sure to leave a few marks. Meanwhile, his hands trailed their way to your breasts, going under your already loose bra and playing with your nipples. He quickly helped you take off your shirt, also removing his own.

James quickly kissed your mouth and started to trail small kisses from it to your right nipple, which he brought to his mouth and sucked on, nipping at it with his front teeth every once in a while, meanwhile his left hand stimulated your other nipple.

Your hands moved to his hair, stroking it and tugging on it every once in a while, leading to groans that would send vibrations to your breasts.

Suddenly, he pressed his knee against your damp underwear as you desperately tried to get more friction from it, until he held down your hips.

“Let me help you, baby.” he hummed against your chest. “I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry.”

He helped you take off your skirt as you raised your hips, tossing it next to the bed and kissing your tummy, making his way down to your underwear, lowering it and kissing the skin right above your slit, almost where you needed him the most. He started to kiss your inner thighs, going up to your clothed core, pressing another kiss right on top of your covered clit, making you moan as he took off your panties, carefully placing them on top of your skirt on the floor.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, his breath fanning against your pussy.

He started slowly at first, licking from your entrance to your clit, sucking it in the most careful way he could. Until you couldn’t hold back your moaning and you remembered how James Potter gave head like a starved man.

He held your thighs open as he sucked on your sensitive bud and fucked two fingers into you, making your back arch and causing you release the most incoherent sentences from your mouth, a mix of swearing, the word god and his name, but really, in that moment, the later two were probably the same to you.

Your hands tugged onto his hair as you reached your high, he looked up at you and kept stimulating your clit with his thumb, inserting a third finger into your hole.

“Cum for me, honey.” He said, sensing you were close to your high and going back to sucking your bud.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you moaned out his name, squeezing his head in between your thighs as he carried you through your orgasm.

Once you were finished, James moved up to kiss you. His mouth moving hungrily against yours.

“I want you.” you said as you pulled away, looking into his eyes.

“You already have me, sweetheart.” He smiled, getting up to get something to clean you up with. You pulled him back by the wrist.

“No, I want you in me. Please. ‘Need more.” You said lowly, giving him a quick peck.

“You sure?” You knew he wanted it too, he just wanted to make you feel good and forget about himself for the rest of the night.

“Yes, please James.” You replied, pulling him by the wrist again once he went to reach for a condom in the nightstand drawer. “I want to feel you. I’m on the pill, please.”

He smiled, taking off his sweatpants and going on top of you, his knees pressed against the mattress next to your thighs as he kissed you, tilting your head to deepen it.

He started kissing your neck, giving soft pecks on the marks he had left behind earlier, while taking his length out of his underwear and lining himself up against your entrance, teasing you with his tip as you practically begged him to get inside of you.

“Patience, baby.” He muttered, slowly starting to thrust into your needy hole whilst pulling your right leg up and bending it, almost making your leg shin touch your thigh as he tried to go as deep as possible.

You couldn’t help but moan out his name once he started thrusting and kept hitting the most perfect spot he could whilst stimulating your bean with his thumb. You clenched around his cock as he started to thrust rapidly into you.

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so good.” He’d whisper in between grunts in your ear while you scratched his back in pleasure. “So- mhm so good for me, baby.” He said, his mouth clashing against yours, his tongue entering your mouth as you opened it. You clenched your pussy around him and you both can’t help but moan into each other’s mouths, his thrusts getting faster and his grunts and moans only louder, showing you how close he also is.

You felt your second orgasm building up as he pinched your clit and you squealed onto his tongue, your teeth clashing, causing him to pull away and smile against your mouth, his teeth against your lips.

“Are you close, princess?” He whispered and you replied with a nod, your nose against his cheek. He thrusted quickly and made circular motions on your clit at the same pace. “Hm, cum for me baby, cum on my cock.” He commanded as you reached your second high, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss you again. The kiss was sloppy as he shot his load into you and you clenched around him, his thrusts faltering.

He collapsed right next to you, grabbing his glasses on the bedside table to look at you properly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He praised you, smiling as he stroked your hair. “Thank you for picking up. Thank you for being here. For everything.” He whispered.

“Thank you for calling.” You smiled.

“The pizza’s probably cold.” He muttered, looking at his bedroom door.

“I don’t care.” You gave him a peck. “Merry Christmas, James.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

#lila writes #silencesscreams #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter fic #james potter x y/n #james potter smut #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james fleamont potter #James potter x reader smut

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geotjwrs · 1 day ago

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Could I request a fanfic featuring a male reader x Jenna, where they are co-stars in Beetlejuice 2? The story follows the trope "she fell first, but he fell harder." Jenna falls for the reader during filming, but later, the reader also falls for her—and much harder.

i like you, i do

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

The lights on set flickered as another take wrapped up. You were in your full costume—black and white pinstripes, messy hair, and green makeup smeared across your face as you played your role in Beetlejuice 2. The director’s voice echoed across the set, calling for a quick break before the next scene. You glanced at Jenna Ortega, your co-star, who had been absolutely killing it as Lydia’s daughter.

From the moment filming had started, you noticed something different about her. Jenna had an infectious energy, always professional and kind to everyone on set. She had a knack for slipping into character instantly, but off-camera, she was the first to crack a joke or offer a smile. There was something magnetic about her, but you chalked it up to her being a talented actress.

What you didn’t realize was that she had started to notice you too.

Jenna had always been good at keeping things professional, but over the past few weeks, something had shifted. Maybe it was the long hours spent on set together or the easy banter you shared between takes. You didn’t see it, but every time you made her laugh, her eyes lingered on you a little longer. When you walked past her, she couldn’t help but follow you with her gaze.

It was subtle at first—the way she’d find excuses to sit next to you during lunch breaks, the small comments she’d make about how great your performance was that day. It wasn’t until one night, during an after-hours shoot, that you noticed something had changed.

You were waiting for the next setup, leaning against a prop table and going over your lines. Jenna walked up beside you, her face still smeared with a bit of makeup from her last scene. She was dressed in Lydia’s iconic goth aesthetic, but the soft smile she gave you was worlds away from the character she was playing.

“Tired?” she asked, her voice casual, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes.

You smiled back, shrugging. “A bit. But you know how it is—long days come with the job.”

Jenna tilted her head, her gaze flickering over your face like she was seeing something no one else could. “You’re doing amazing with the role, though. Really. I’ve seen you work on other films, but this… I don’t know, it just feels like you’ve completely embodied the character.”

You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from you. You’ve been killing it as Lydia’s daughter.”

She smiled at your compliment but didn’t look away this time. “You ever think about what happens after the movie wraps up?”

You furrowed your brow, not sure where the conversation was heading. “What do you mean?”

Jenna shrugged, her hand absentmindedly brushing against yours as she leaned on the table. “I don’t know… We’ve spent a lot of time together, and it’s been fun. But what happens when we’re not filming together every day?”

There was a weight behind her words that caught you off guard. You blinked, glancing at her, and for a second, it felt like the air between you changed. You hadn’t thought much beyond the movie. Sure, you got along great, but this was a job—at least, that’s what you had told yourself. But now, with Jenna looking at you like that, you couldn’t deny the connection building between the two of you.

“I guess we just… move on to the next project,” you said, though the words sounded hollow as they left your mouth.

Jenna’s gaze flickered down, and for a moment, you thought you saw something like disappointment in her eyes. But she quickly covered it with a soft laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The conversation ended, but it left you thinking. Over the next few days, you started to notice all the little things you had been ignoring—the way Jenna would glance your way when she thought you weren’t looking, how she’d laugh a little harder at your jokes, the way she’d linger after filming when everyone else had gone home. It was subtle, but it was there.

You didn’t want to assume anything, though. Maybe she was just being friendly. Maybe you were imagining it. But then, one night after filming, she invited you to hang out at a small diner nearby. It was just the two of you, and the conversation flowed as easily as it did on set, but this time, it felt more personal.

At one point, as you both laughed about some behind-the-scenes mishap, Jenna’s smile faded slightly, and she looked at you with that same look from before—the one that felt like it was asking more than what her words said.

“You know,” she began quietly, “I wasn’t sure about this movie when I first signed on. But meeting you… it’s made it better.”

Your heart skipped a beat. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes now. She liked you. And for the first time, you realized you liked her too. You hadn’t been paying attention, too focused on your own work to notice, but now that it was in front of you, you couldn’t ignore it.

But even then, you hadn’t fallen yet—not completely.

It wasn’t until the last few weeks of filming that you started falling, and you fell hard. The more time you spent with Jenna, the more you realized how much you loved being around her. She was funny, down-to-earth, and despite her fame, she never let it get to her head. Every moment with her felt easy, natural. You found yourself looking forward to her texts after a long day of shooting, smiling when her name popped up on your phone.

You’d catch yourself thinking about her at random moments—during rehearsals, on your way home, even when you were supposed to be focusing on other things. It was like everything about her had crept under your skin, and now you couldn’t shake the feeling.

One evening, after a particularly emotional scene, you were both walking off set when she stopped you.

“Hey,” she called softly.

You turned to see Jenna standing just a few feet away, a soft, almost nervous look on her face. She shifted on her feet, biting her lip before she spoke again.

“I need to tell you something,” she began, her voice almost timid. “I… I’ve liked you for a while now. I didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t sure if you felt the same. But now that the movie’s almost over, I don’t want to miss my chance. I really like you, Y/N.”

For a second, you stood there, stunned. She had fallen first. All this time, she had been waiting for you to catch up. And now that she had said it out loud, the weight of your own feelings hit you like a tidal wave.

You stepped closer, your heart pounding as you looked at her. “Jenna… I didn’t realize it until now, but I like you too. A lot. Maybe even more than I should.”

Her eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across her face, one that made your heart race even faster.

Before you could say anything else, she closed the distance between you and pressed her lips to yours. It wasn’t a rushed kiss—it was slow, sweet, filled with all the feelings that had been building between you both for months.

When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against hers, both of you breathless but smiling.

“Guess I fell harder than I thought,” you admitted with a grin.

Jenna laughed softly, her arms wrapping around your waist. “I think we both did.”

From that moment on, things were different. You and Jenna had found something special, something neither of you expected when you first started filming. It wasn’t just about the movie anymore—it was about each other.

Filming wrapped up a few weeks later, and while you both moved on to new projects, your relationship stayed strong. The chemistry you had on set carried over into real life, and no matter how busy things got, you always found time for each other.

And every once in a while, when you caught Jenna looking at you with that same soft smile, you’d remind yourself just how lucky you were to have fallen for her—because while she might have fallen first, you definitely fell harder.

#dailywomen #imagine #fanfic #one shot #jenna ortega #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n

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ecoterrorist-katara · 2 days ago

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Hear me out! Chief!Katara x Ambassador!Zuko

I'm sure it's already been done before, but imagine an AU where Iroh dies and Lu Ten lives and becomes Fire Lord. Lu Ten's experiences during the war and his father's death give him a different outlook on his country and his family. He becomes Fire Lord after Sozin's death and decides to change things for the better.

(This would include him stepping up for Zuko and Azula. I like to imagine he's a huge dork who's constantly getting bullied by them. Idk what would happen with Ozai and Ursa here, but I like to think Ozai is just a hermit loser who pulls away from all of them including Azula which allows Ursa to start getting through to her fully in a way she couldn't before. Somewhat mentally stable Azula ftw)

Anyway, because of Lu Ten's change of heart, he decides to start with reparations in the Southern Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom villages. For the Southern Water Tribe, this allows for infrastructure developments which means easier contact with the Northern Tribe as well as rebuilding.

Hakoda brings his kids to the Southern Water Tribe for their first point of contact in decades and Sokka is immediately smitten with Princess Yue. She's been betrothed already, but Hakoda (with his feminist icon mother Kanna we stan) gently dissuades the NWT chief from forcing his literal child into marriage.

(And oops! He accidentally started a feminist revolution in the north. Well, it was a combination of that and tiny Katara proudly going around and telling the NWT women about the brave female members of their tribe that fought and lost their lives in the war. You know that meme about how Kanna sent Katara to kick Pakku's ass? Here, it's more like she sent little Katara to cause an uprising to the point where it was either he starts teaching everyone who wants to learn or they all boycott. In short, Pakku becomes the first person in the ATLA to get his ass cancelled)

Anyway! Sokka and Yue get married somewhere down the line as adults. But since she's the only NWT heir it means he has to rule with her in the North. And since Katara is the only remaining SWT heir, she becomes chief. Under Chief Katara's rule, the SWT proposers. And once a certain escaped prisoner comes back after the war ends, Katara becomes powerful too.

Zuko takes an interest in learning about other cultures. For so long, he was told that the Fire Nation was the superior nation and that they were doing the right thing by enforcing their rule on the other nations. With Lu Ten's reform, he's become curious as to what made his cousin change his mind. So Lu Ten decides to take him with him on diplomatic visits. Zuko experiences and learns what makes the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes different, but also great.

Once he visits the SWT he's immediately enthralled by its compassionate, brave, and powerful leader. Although, Katara isn't particularly impressed with the bumbling ambassador who can't seem to form words around her.

Zutara AUs are so fun that not even I can resist them. I like this because it's a cute reversal on Fire Lord Zuko x Diplomat Katara

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑 YOUR BRAIN IS FUCKING INGENIOUS PLEASE LET ME PUT IT IN A JAR ON MY MANTLE IN A NON CREEPY WAY THANKS!!!! Your capacity for a Zutara AU is insane considering you’re not even a ZK shipper 🙏🏼

So much to love!!! Lu Ten the Loser Lord! Kanna the feminist icon weaponizing her granddaughter to cancel Pakku! Hama living in the SWT (can we have bodyguard Hama??? I’ve been thinking about General Hama in @lykegenia’s The Things We Hide like, once a month, ever since I read it back in March and I think bodyguard Hama is a great variation…you’re never too old to girlboss). Yuekka ruling the NWT! ZUKO BEING A DUMBASS AROUND CHIEF KATARA PLEASE!

I think Ambassador Zuko is the funniest idea ever for like, many many reasons, but the funniest thing to me is how in this AU Lu Ten would need to choose nepo baby Zuko or nepo baby Azula as the diplomat and both are…kinda bad? Zuko would genuinely want to learn to be diplomatic but it does not come easily to him and he would start international diplomatic crises by accident, while Azula does understand diplomacy as a skill but arguably too well and would start international diplomatic crises on purpose.

anyway yes Zuko would absolutely lose all faculties of speech and possibly thinking once he encounters Katara, who is so passionate and thoughtful and devoted to justice! And she’d be like “who’s that Fire Nation idiot who can’t even string three words together? Doesn’t he know reparations are serious business??” And the people from the other nations would be confused because they’re like, Ambassador Zuko is really fair and actually a pretty smart guy what are you on about? THEN maybe she’d think he was doing it on purpose to undermine her…sorry I have to insert a classic misunderstanding somewhere…

ANYWAY if anyone has fic recs for Ambassador Zuko and Chief Katara PLEASE LET ME KNOW! I haven’t read any new Zutara fics in months because my autism compass changed direction, but new year new me etc

#zutara #headcanons #chief Katara #ambassador Zuko #can i ask you a question?

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kawoala · 2 days ago

Text

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 003 ; mcdonalds.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (757)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (filler chapter, short but sweet, only child! reader, a little angsty in regards to reader beung an only child, just backstory on reader + runa family, profanity, mcdonalds)

a/n: i dont do authors notes, and i probs wont do this again, but i wanted to wish all those who celebrate a very merry christmas !! i hope you eat yummy food and have a great time with your family !

When you get a text from Runa asking to join her for lunch, of course you say yes. It’s your fourth day here and you still haven’t made a peep to any of your classmates. Runa’s kind of the only person you know at university.

You meet her in front of your dorm building and the ride to Mcdonald’s isn’t too long. Apparently, they built this Mcdonald’s last year purely because it’s around a bunch of broke college kids.

Runa orders first and you order the same thing. Who knew you two were so similar? You sit down and, for the first few minutes, you’re both quiet.

Runa breaks the silence first by asking about your family.

“Oh, I’m an only child,” you say with a shrug. “My parents are also both only children, so I don’t really have a big family or anything. I only have a few cousins who are much, much older than me. Courtesy of my great aunts and uncles.” You shrug again and pop a fry in your mouth. “Um, my mom is a pediatrician, so she was never really home, and my dad works for the local newspaper.”

She nods along as you speak, watching you intently. Once you finish, she hums. “That’s too bad. Growing up without a lot of family, I mean.” She frowns slightly. “Your dad is a newspaper guy, though, is that why you want to teach English when you get older?”

“Um,” You think for a moment. “Maybe? I don’t know. I’ve just always been good at English.” You pause, then shake your head. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

Her eyes widen and she suddenly smiles widely. “Oh, I have a huge family. I have three brothers and one sister. I’m the oldest, which,” she rolls her eyes, “sucks, by the way. My mom passed away when I was little, but my dad works for a car company. Not selling them, building them. He’s, like, a genius. That’s why I got into cars. I’m assuming Rin told you about Atsumu’s dad’s car?” When you nod, she nods as well. “Yeah, they were always working on that stupid car. It was, like, twenty years old, but it was cool as fuck.”

You nod, taking a bite of your burger. “That sounds awesome. When I was younger I used to be super jealous of other kids with siblings. My house was always quiet, so I used to turn all the TV’s on and pretend that there were people in the house.” You laugh at the memory, but when you look at Runa, she’s frowning once again. “It’s okay, though,” you try to backtrack. “I liked my privacy, too. I never had to share a room, there was always hot water to shower with, never had to deal with siblings chasing after me with a knife or something.” You snicker and shrug again.

She stays quiet for a long moment. The two of you sit in silence again, just eating your food.

Eventually, you clear your throat. “So, um, what do you do for fun? You mentioned being a manager for your high school’s volleyball team, but what do you like to do now?” You raise your brows inquisitively. “Oh, what are you majoring in?”

“Communications,” she answers quickly. The sudden smile on her face almost makes you giggle. She sure does change emotions rather quickly. “I want to do something to do with public relations, maybe? I don’t know. When I was a manager I felt like I was doing something that fit, you know? So I’m thinking of becoming a PR manager for a sports team or something. Volleyball or maybe soccer.” She shrugs.

“That makes sense.” You nod. “I think you’d be good at marketing, too. You’re very…” you trail off, thinking. “Persuasive.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “I just talk a lot.”

You laugh, too, and look back down at your food. It’s nearly gone, but you don’t think you can finish it. “Do you want the rest of my fries?” You ask.

“Um, yeah, obviously.”

As you laugh once more and hand her the french fries, you can’t help but think that Runa is going to be a good friend. She’s funny and nice and she included you in something dear to her the first day you met her.

You go to sleep that night with a smile on your face for the first time in a while. Similarly, for the first time, you’re excited to wake up with Runa tomorrow.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@sahrii , @cherrysurf , @heartmaddie , @jpegarchives , @massacremars

@vertejay , @tiramizuloz , @gumims , @mybelovedvi , @chaotic-neutral-ig

@usbrous , @iheartamora , @iluv-ace , @xavlyzn , @velvetreds

@mysticstrawberryballoon , @h0n3y-l3m0n05 , @aethersluvrr , @smiithys

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kawoala #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! suna x reader #haikyuu suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #haikyuu suna rintarou #haikyuu!! suna #rintarou suna #haikyuu suna #suna x reader #suna rintarou #driven by adrenaline #street racer au #street racing #street racer suna rintarou

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parkitrighthere · 2 days ago

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Hey , will we get an update on AOP ? If not you mentioned we could get a sneak peak . Could we get that ?

Heyyy sweet anon!! How’s it going?? I hope you’re having the BEST day ever and soaking in all the Christmas magic!! I’m so sorry I didn’t check my inbox earlier, and well… rest is history, right? But hey, better late than never, right?? Sooo, here’s a little sneak peek for you, I hope you like it!

Okay, quick heads up:

This is the beginning of chapter 3. I mean, it’s not super exciting or anything yet (shocker, right?), but I promise it’ll do for now. I’m still working on the chapter, so cut me some slack. Also, I’ve realized I have a ridiculous amount of love for Kenji right now… like, why did I just say that out loud? 🤷‍♀️ Oh well, I did. #KenjiIsLife

So, here’s a little snippet (under the cut, obviously because suspense and all that jazz). Please try your best to like it, even though my dialogue game is still under construction. I swear, I’m leveling up my writing skills (slowly but surely). 😅 And seriously, tell me what you think, I’m dying to know!

And... uh, forgive me? Or maybe not? But, like, please? 🙈

Alright, here it goes—enjoy!

(Jimin have nothing to do with it. I merely posted him to distract you from all the mess I've posted)

The darkness wrapped the sky in its velvet shroud, a blend of endless black and the faint glow of stars. The moon hung high, heavy and luminous, as if holding up the weight of the heavens. Its light spilled through the open window, brushing across the room in silvery streaks, making the shadows dance on the walls. The cold air slipped in, sharp and biting, rushing past your face. You inhaled deeply, your chest rising as the chill pricked your skin.

It was already midnight, and sleeping wasn't an option. Your fingers gripped the edge of the windowsill, as you leaned forward, staring into the stillness of the night. The coolness of the wood beneath your palm punished you, but your mind was far away, caught in a storm you couldn’t quite name

You weren’t crying—there were no tears left to shed. You weren’t angry either. The fiery edge of rage had dulled long ago, leaving behind an ache too stubborn to fade.

You exhaled sharply, your breath mingling within the cold air. It wasn’t sadness—not anymore. You’d come to terms with it after talking to Elizabeth.

Your shoulders slumped, and you rubbed at your temples, trying to massage away the tension. It wasn’t about you. It never had been. Your reflection in the window—dull eyes and a tired face—stared back, and you nodded at it, a soft chuckle skipping past your lips. Acceptance wasn’t a choice; it was the only option left.

You thought enough about it, and one thing you grew certain of was that it was, and never would be, about you. You were ready to accept the bond—it was always about him. You knew you couldn’t keep trying alone. You tilted your head back, the moonlight catching the wet shine in your eyes, though no tears fell. It wasn’t how it worked. It couldn’t be.

Slowly, you pulled back from the window, the cold air chasing after you. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you let out a shaky breath. You wouldn’t beg—not for him, not for love. No.

You couldn’t deny it, not to yourself at least—you wanted to try. More than anything. Your chest ached with the thought, your fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as if clutching at the hope you refused to voice. You didn’t know much about him, not really, except one undeniable truth: he was intense, passionate, extreme. And so were his emotions—wild, consuming, and impossibly bright. But he hid them, masked them behind a wall so impenetrable that even you, his mate, couldn’t see through it.

Your hands trembled as you ran them through your hair, the strands tangling between your fingers. The memory of his dark, shimmering boba eyes flashed in your mind. You’d imagined them so many nights—staring at you, full of the love and affection you so desperately wanted. No, deserved. Didn’t you? And even if you didn’t, a part of you insisted he should give it anyway. Because weren’t you his mate? Your lips pressed into a thin line, and your jaw clenched as bitterness bubbled in your chest.

You had the right to him, didn’t you? But fate, cruel and merciless as it always was, had turned your bond into a twisted game. Or maybe it wasn’t fate at all. Maybe it was him—your mate, the one who could ignite every nerve in your body with a single glance but chose instead to keep his distance.

Your shoulders sagged, and you leaned back against the wall, letting the cold surface seep through your dress. You didn’t know why he kept you at arm’s length, why his indifference cut so deep. A sharp breath escaped your lips, your chest tightening. Did you even want to know? That was the question that kept you awake at night, gnawing at the edges of your sanity.

The air felt heavier now, as you straightened, your fingers curling into fists at your sides. You didn’t know the reason behind his indifference. But did you want to? That was a big question now. You wouldn’t beg. Not for a man’s attention, not for his love. You might crave him—God, you craved him with every fiber of your being. His presence, his touch, the way his voice seemed to echo in your mind long after he’d spoken. But you would cut yourself open before you begged.

You were just a low-ranking werewolf, a speck compared to the royal Lycan king. But rank didn’t matter now, not to you. You would not grovel—not for him or anyone. If he wanted you, he’d have to fight for you, just as fiercely as you’d once wanted to fight for him. And it wasn’t necessarily that bad here; at least you were being fed.

There was no point in thinking about it now. As tired as your mind was, your body was weirdly energetic, yet you felt paradoxically weak—the lack of training and shifting in weeks was finally getting to you.

Your eyes darted around the room, taking in the too-familiar walls and furniture. Boredom surged like a wildfire, quick and consuming. You hated this place—its silence, its stillness. But if someone were to ask what you hated most, the answer came easily, almost reflexively. Him. Your mate. Jeon Jungkook.

You huffed, shaking your head as if trying to dislodge the thought. You stood there for a moment, swaying slightly, your arms hanging limply at your sides. Your chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths. The night wrapped around you like a second skin, colder than it should’ve been. You rubbed your arms absentmindedly, even though you felt no sense of cold. There was something strange in the air tonight, though. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It clung to you, just out of reach, like a whisper you couldn’t fully hear.

You, once again, reached to the window, your fingertips brushing the edge of the curtain. The cold glass pressed against your palm as you stared out at the still, dark world. A frown tugged at your lips. It wasn’t delight you were feeling—not even close. It wasn’t contentment either. No, this was different, deeper.

Fulfillment. As if something had shifted back into place, something you hadn’t realized was missing.

But with it came fear. A cold, tearing fear that settled in your chest and refused to let go. Your hand pressed over your heart, feeling its unsteady rhythm thrum beneath your skin. Your throat tightened, and your eyes flicked toward the moonlit horizon, searching for something you couldn’t name.

You turned away from the window, pacing the room with quick, uneven steps. Your fingers ran through your hair, tugging at the strands as if the slight pain would ground you. It didn’t.

You paused mid-step, staring at your hands as they trembled. Was it the bond? You didn’t know, but your gut screamed that it was. Everything—the restlessness, the strange sense of completion, the fear—it all traced back to him.

You glanced out the window at the night sky—heavenly dark and ethereally calm—and a small smile tugged at your lips, unbidden. The moon was truly magnificent tonight; you thought nothing could ever match the quiet beauty of nature—especially the moon.

You drew in a long, deep breath, holding it in your chest before letting it out slowly. The weight against your ribs loosened, if only a little. Your eyes dropped to your hands, fingers curling and uncurling as you bit your bottom lip in thought.

Without a second thought, you turned on your heel, your movements dogged but not rushed. You slipped out of your quarters and into the dimly lit hallway, pausing for a moment to glance around.

Where to go?

You tilted your head, brows knitting together as the question settled in your mind. You didn’t have an answer, you merely didn't want to sit in your quarters. With a small nod to yourself.

The guards stationed along the walls watched you with wary eyes, their expressions unreadable. You didn’t pay them any mind, your focus elsewhere. The coolness of the air pressed against your skin, seeping through your clothes like icy fingers. A shiver ran down your spine, but instead of recoiling, you welcomed it.

Winter was near. The thought sent a flicker of warmth through you, chasing away some of the cold. You’d always loved winter, the way the world transformed under a blanket of snow, quiet and pristine. In just a month, the first snowfall would come, covering everything in a soft, white hush.

A smile broke across your face, wide and genuine. Your fingers brushed against your arms as you imagined the crunch of snow beneath bare feet, or the feel of it against your fur in wolf form. She loved winter too.

And then there was the blue moon. Only three weeks away, a grand celebration waiting on the horizon. The thought made your chest swell with anticipation, and a quiet giggle escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Your steps quickened, your feet almost skipping as you moved through the halls. You practically bounced on your toes, the cold air swirling around you but unable to dampen your mood. For the first time in days, maybe weeks, something sparked inside you—something bright, something hopeful.

But happiness had always been a fleeting guest in your life, and tonight proved no exception. Your steps faltered, the soft rhythm of your bare feet on the cold floor coming to an abrupt halt. The smile that had warmed your lips vanished, leaving them pressed into a thin line as Jungkook’s voice tore through the stillness of the still night.

It was sharp, loud, booming even. The sound echoed around you, bouncing off the walls. Without realizing it, you had wandered near his quarters. Your chest tightened as frustration bubbled beneath your skin. No matter how much you tried, how much you willed yourself to stay away, you always found yourself here—drawn to him like a moth to flame. You hated it. You hated him.

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip. His voice rang out again, louder this time, filled with venom and a simmering rage that made your stomach churn.

“I’m not obligated to tell you anything. Anything.”

Your body flinched involuntarily at the sound, as if the force of his anger had reached out and struck you. It wasn’t fear, not exactly. It was instinct—your body recoiling from the raw, unfiltered aggression in his tone.

You turned your head slightly, your gaze shifting to the floor. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. For a moment, you considered walking away, your feet itching to retreat. But you stayed rooted to the spot.

He was angry.

He was yelling.

But why? At who?

The questions spun relentlessly in your mind, but the answers evaded you. Your curiosity, though unwelcome, began clawing at your chest, demanding to be fed. A small voice whispered in the back of your head, urging you to move closer, to press your ear to the door and unravel the tension vibrating through the walls.

You shook your head, swallowing hard, forcing your feet to stay planted. Jungkook had made many things painfully clear on your first day here—one of them being that you were not to involve yourself in pack matters unless explicitly asked. His rules were ironclad, just like the wall he had built between the two of you.

Fine. If he didn’t respect or care for you, you wouldn’t care for him—or his pack. You took a slow, deliberate step forward, ready to walk past his quarters without so much as a glance.

But then you heard it.

Her voice.

Elizabeth.

The sound froze you mid-step, your body stiffening as if an invisible force had gripped you by the shoulders. She was in there, her voice carrying through the closed door—tenacious, loud, yet gentle. She was asking him something, and though his voice was lower now, you could still hear the anger simmering in every clipped word he threw back at her.

Your stomach twisted, curiosity roaring to life and twisting into something darker. Jealousy.

The fire of it ignited low in your chest, spreading quickly, burning hotter with every second you stood there. What were they talking about? Why was she here, in his quarters, this late? The questions pushed everything else from your mind, leaving only a sharp, all-consuming need to know.

Your jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as your breath came out shakier than you wanted to admit. Your chest heaved as you stared at the door, as if willing it to give up its secrets. The thought of her—of them—on the other side of it sent a cold, bitter shiver down your spine. You clenched your teeth harder, your body trembling with an emotion you didn’t want to name.

Still, your feet remained rooted, caught between storming forward and fleeing altogether. You told yourself you didn’t care, that whatever was happening in that room didn’t matter to you. But the fire raging inside you screamed otherwise.

"Jungkook, you can’t just run away from all you’ve done!" Elizabeth’s voice cut through the heavy, pregnant silence like a blade, shrill and demanding. Each word was laced with venom, her tone rising an octave with every syllable. "It’ll be the death of us all. Do you even have any idea what would happen if Jimin found out what you’ve done? Do you know how many vamp—"

“Leave!!”

Jungkook’s voice thundered through the air, slamming into you like a physical force. The raw power in his Alpha command made your breath hitch, your chest tightening painfully as if an unseen hand had wrapped itself around your throat, forcing you to bare it.

Your knees buckled slightly, your hand shooting out to the cold wall beside you to steady yourself. The sheer authority in his tone wasn’t just heard—it was felt, reverberating through your body, making your heart stutter and your skin break out in goosebumps.

For a moment, you stood frozen, your wide eyes staring blankly ahead as the weight of his words settled over you. But then something stirred deep within you.

Your wolf.

You hadn't felt her in days.

It was a faint ripple at first, a flicker of energy in the pit of your stomach. But it grew quickly, spreading like a wildfire through your veins. She was there—fully present in a way she hadn’t been in years. You could feel her strength, her defiance, her barely restrained anger.

Why was she angry?

It took you a moment to realize that you were feeling Jungkook’s emotions. It was the first time you had ever experienced them. His feelings were so intense that it was becoming hard to breathe. It felt as if a fire was burning in the centre of your chest.

Your lips parted in a shaky exhale, and your fingers gripped the wall as you tried to steady your racing heart. The connection was overwhelming, a storm of emotions flooding your senses: pride, fury, longing—all of it tangled together.

Oh! Moon goddess, it was overwhelming

Your head turned slightly, your gaze narrowing on the closed door as Elizabeth’s voice was abruptly silenced. The tension in the air was suffocating, thick enough to choke on, and yet... you couldn’t move.

You didn’t know what you were waiting for. Maybe for Elizabeth to storm out, her face twisted with fury. Maybe for Jungkook to step into the hallway, his presence as commanding as his voice.

Or maybe, you were waiting for yourself—to decide whether you would stay or walk away, pretending none of this had ever happened.

"Move, Bee."

The whisper of your wolf echoed faintly in your mind, a nudge that left no room for argument. Before you could even process her words, your legs carried you away from the shadows where you stood rooted. Your feet moved on instinct, silent against the cold marble floor as you melted into the darkness of the hallway, just out of sight.

The door to Jungkook’s bedroom creaked open, and Elizabeth stepped out.

You stilled, your breath catching in your throat as your gaze locked on her. She looked… dreadful. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her cheeks flushed, and her lips pressed into a thin, angry line. But it was her eyes that unsettled you most—they were wide, almost frantic, as if she’d seen something that had shaken her to her very core.

What is wrong?

Your fingers twitched at your sides, itching to reach out and grab her, demand answers to the storm of questions swirling in your mind. But before you could act, she stormed off, her hurried footsteps fading into the distance.

The silence that followed was deafening, and your chest ached with your unanswered questions.

You kept walking and without realizing it, you were outside. The icy wind bit at your skin, and your bare feet pressed into the damp grass of the royal garden. The once soothing serenity of the night now felt oppressive.

The soft rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of the night animals did little to calm the unease gnawing at you. The cold that had earlier been invigorating now seemed to seep into your very bones, chilling you from the inside out.

Your steps faltered, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, your fingers digging into the fabric of your sleeves as your mind raced.

What were they talking about?

Your thoughts spiralled, wild and rigid. The memory of Jungkook’s loud voice echoed in your head, and Elizabeth’s pale, distraught face lingered in your mind.

What was she doing in his room in the middle of the night?

"Bee, you’re thinking way too much," your wolf interjected with a bored sigh.

You couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped your lips, your breath fogging in the crisp night air.

'Thinking too much? That’s rich coming from you,' you muttered under your breath, the tension in your shoulders easing ever so slightly.

Your wolf hummed in response, unbothered, as if this entire situation didn’t concern her in the slightest. She had made her grand reappearance only to take over your body, push you into the cold night, and now, she was defending him.

"Of course, you’d side with him," you said, shaking your head with a humourless smile. You paced aimlessly through the garden, your fingers brushing against the brittle leaves of the hedges as you walked.

"I’m not defending anyone, Bee. I only said you’re thinking too much," your wolf’s voice came again, calm and infuriatingly smug.

You huffed, dragging your hands through your hair in exasperation as you continued pacing. The cool breeze tugged at the strands, but it didn’t calm you—it only added to the storm brewing in your chest.

"You’ve said enough," you muttered aloud, a bitter chuckle slipping past your lips as you shook your head.

"Aww, Bee trying to be sassy? That’s new… and dumb," she quipped, her tone laced with amusement.

You froze mid-step, your jaw tightening as irritation rippled through you. Balling your fists, you let out a slow, shaky breath, your eyes narrowing at the empty garden ahead of you as if you could glare at her.

"I’m curious," you snapped, your voice low and laced with frustration.

"And jealous," she added with a shrug you could practically feel, the smugness in her tone igniting the fire in your chest.

You clenched your teeth, your fingers twitching at your sides as you turned on your heel and paced again. Was she always this difficult? you wondered, your steps now faster, heavier, as if walking harder would somehow silence her.

"You’re being impossible," you muttered, your voice clipped.

"Well… I’m trying," she retorted, her smirk audible in your mind.

You let out a low growl, a sound of pure frustration as you stopped in your tracks and threw your hands in the air. The cold bit at your skin, and the grass beneath your feet squished as you shifted your weight, trying to ground yourself.

"Why do you always do this?" you hissed through gritted teeth, pacing again, your movements acute and agitated.

Your wolf merely hummed, her silence somehow louder than her teasing had been. It was like she was sitting back, watching the chaos unfold, amused by your every reaction.

You pressed your palm to your forehead, your other hand on your hip, and let out a shaky breath. The night around you was still, the garden eerily quiet except for the rustle of leaves and your own unsteady breaths.

"Aren’t you curi—" you started, your voice harsh, ready to lash out at your wolf and her endless sass.

But the words died on your tongue when a hand landed on your shoulder, firm yet not harsh. The touch yanked you out of your spiralling thoughts, and for a moment, the world tilted. Your breath hitched, eyes flickering from their glowing yellow back to their usual shade as a startled scream tore from your lips.

Instinct kicked in as you twisted away, prying the hand off your shoulder with shaky fingers. Your movements were frantic, unsteady. In your rush to create distance, your foot slipped on the damp grass.

You stumbled backward, arms flailing uselessly to regain your balance, but gravity wasn’t forgiving tonight.

"No, no, no—!" The words barely left your lips before you felt it: an arm curling around your waist, warm and secure, trying to steady you. For a fleeting moment, you thought you’d be pulled back, saved from the inevitable fall.

But fate had other plans.

You went down, and so did he.

The icy water swallowed you both, shocking the air from your lungs as you hit its surface. The cold stabbed at your skin like a thousand tiny needles, and a gasp escaped you, only for the water to rush in through your mouth and nose.

Panic surged as your chest tightened, the burning need for air overwhelming your senses. Your limbs flailed in the dark water, your vision a blur of silvery moonlight and shifting shadows.

Just when the pressure in your lungs became unbearable, the same hand that had startled you moments ago was back, gripping your arm with unwavering strength. With a single pull, you were yanked upward, as if you weighed nothing.

You broke through the surface with a desperate gasp, coughing and sputtering as cold air filled your lungs. Your vision cleared just enough to make out the figure before you, drenched and dripping, his chest rising and falling as he caught his own breath.

You blinked rapidly, your body shivering violently from the cold. Water dripped down your face, tangling in your lashes and blurring your view, but you could still make out his piercing gaze locked onto yours.

"Stand still, Luna. It's not that deep," Kenji's voice broke through the haze in your mind, soft and distant. His words, though meant to calm you, barely registered in your brain. They felt like whispers, faint and without meaning, as your world rolled in the aftermath of the cold water.

You didn’t have the energy to respond. Everything felt numb, too much to process. You barely felt his hands as they gripped your body, pulling you out of the water, his strong arms steadying you. The cold air hit your skin like a slap, making your body tremble, but you didn’t care. Your clothes clung to your body, heavy and soaked, as if they were another layer of ice.

"Are you okay?" His voice, low and smooth, carried a tinge of concern, but you couldn’t answer him. You were too focused on your own ragged breathing, each gasp severe and painful as you tried to fill your lungs with air.

You nodded, still struggling to steady yourself, your knees weak beneath you. Kenji’s hands loosened their grip but remained close, as if afraid you might collapse. His eyes—green, intense, filled with raw worry—never left your face.

Your gaze flickered to him, taking in his drenched appearance. His black shirt clung to his frame, outlining the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen. Eight abs? You thought dazedly, momentarily distracted by the sharp, perfect definition of his body. His arms, thick with muscle, rippled as he shifted, veins prominent under his skin. His coat was missing, leaving only the damp shirt, trouser and boots that squeaked with every movement as water pooled around his feet.

For a moment, the world felt quieter, but the thudding of your pulse in your ears reminded you of the mess still swirling in your mind. Kenji’s eyes never left you, scanning you for any signs of distress, his worry plain in the furrow of his brows.

You opened your mouth, wanting to speak, but a cough seized you, harsh and sudden, the water still making its presence known in your lungs. You doubled over, a sharp spasm running through your chest as your throat burned.

Cough, cough.

You wheezed, the water still clogging your chest. Kenji’s hand was warm on your back, patting gently as you tried to catch your breath. His touch was surprisingly comforting, but it couldn’t shake the rush of anger and embarrassment bubbling up inside you. When your breathing finally steadied, he brushed your wet hair behind your ear.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be this frightened," he murmured, his voice soft and apologetic, eyes scanning you with an unreadable expression.

"Really," You snapped, unable to hold back your frustration any longer, huffing sharply and turning your gaze away from him. "Of course, I’ll be frightened. You came out of nowhere!" You couldn’t help it. The adrenaline still buzzed under your skin, your heart racing in a way you didn’t understand. Your eyes darted around, desperately looking for something to focus on, when you caught sight of the lake.

"There’s a lake here. A lake." The words came out in disbelief as you took a step back, your mouth falling open as you stared at the calm water behind you. You couldn’t believe it. It was like you had stepped into another world, even though you were still in the Lycan palace.

Kenji was still beside you, and his puzzled gaze flickered between you and the lake. "Why do you seem so angry at the fact?" His voice was light, but there was confusion in his eyes.

"Because. I. Fell." The words came out sharp, punctuated with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, shivering from the cold water clinging to your clothes, which now felt like a second skin, heavy and soaked.

Kenji raised an eyebrow, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. "Valid," he said, almost too calmly, his eyes still filled with curiosity.

"Duh!" You huffed again, your arms tightening across your chest in annoyance. The cold bite of the air wasn’t helping, and the peaceful lake, which had once seemed serene, now only added to your growing frustration. Everything felt off now—strange and disorienting. You were unable to contemplate why were you feeling cold, you were a werewolf.

The anger, now mixed with frustration, flared up again. "Who has a lake behind their palace garden?" You shook your head, still in disbelief.

Kenji’s voice was full of pride as he spoke, "We do." The way he said it made you want to smack him, but you held yourself back, the urge bubbling up in your chest. It would be unladylike, un-queenly. No, you couldn’t afford to lose control like that. You sucked in a breath, steadying yourself. Elegance, composure—those were the things you had to focus on.

You forced a smile, one that felt far too wide, far too tight. "Kenji." Your voice was soft, almost sweet, and the smile that accompanied it was dripping with artificial sweetness. His eyes snapped to yours, widening for a moment, and you saw the exact second his face twisted into something almost grotesque.

"That’s so fake!" he blurted, his voice betraying the shock in his tone.

A gasp slipped past your lips, surprise flashing across your face before it quickly melted into something else. His eyes shot wide with horror, his skin paling as he stepped back slightly, as if you had just slapped him. "Oh! Moon goddess, forgive me, Luna. I—I…" His words faltered, stuttering, as if he could barely comprehend the mistake he had just made.

You blinked, confused. His reaction felt over the top, but there was a genuine fear in his eyes now, one that caught you off guard. You weren’t strong enough to fight him off, and you weren’t a queen yet—not in his eyes, not in anyone's eyes. The only one who might consider you his queen was Jungkook, and he barely acknowledged you as his mate.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, the cold air biting at your skin as you stared at Kenji, ignoring the tension that still hung between you. You couldn’t care less about his reaction to your earlier words, focusing instead on the question hanging in the air.

“What are you doing here at this time?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended. His eyes flickered with surprise, his mouth opening, but then nothing. He pointed a finger toward you, lips moving, but no sound came out. It was almost comical, watching him struggle to form words.

“What?” you snapped, growing impatient.

He blinked, his brows furrowing, trying to process your response before mumbling, “You mean, pardon?”

“No, I mean what. Now start talking, will you?” you demanded, your patience wearing thin.

He blinked at you, bewildered. “That was my question.”

“I mean once again. What?” You were so done with his indecision, the confusion clear on your face.

“That was my question.”

A frustrated sigh slipped past your lips, your eyes narrowing as you crossed your arms tighter. “I heard it before. Explain.”

Kenji’s eyes hardened slightly, frustration creeping into his expression, but he didn’t back down. “What are you doing here?” he repeated, his voice finally steady, but it only made you more annoyed.

“Walking?” you replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You tilted your head, locking eyes with him. Your voice was dismissive, but the corners of your lips lifted in something close to a smirk.

“At this time?"

"When I walk, I don’t care about time. Walking is good.” You shrugged nonchalantly, your gaze challenging him to argue. His expression faltered for a moment, his mouth falling open as he stared at you, as if you’d grown two heads. You didn’t care.

“What? I can walk. It keeps you fit,” you added, eyes narrowing into a defiant glare, daring him to question you further.

Kenji stood tall, as he spoke, his gaze intense as if daring you to question him further. “We are. No. You are a werewolf. We have high metabolism. We stay fit anyway without walking,” he countered, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You arched an eyebrow, not even bothered by his words. “And?” you shot back, your voice laced with indifference. You still didn’t have a reason for being here, but you weren’t about to back down.

He sighed, clearly growing tired. “What are you doing here?” you asked again, as if it was the most obvious question in the world.

His gaze flicked to you, and before you could even bink, the words reached your ear. “Patrolling.” He said it with such ease, as if it were a routine task. His shoulders shifted, a casual shrug, as he waited for you to process. His eyes never left yours, a slight raise of his brow as if daring you to argue.

“Why?” you asked, your confusion evident. You could already feel the answer forming in his mind, but you were far too frustrated to wait for it. “I mean, why you?” you continued, gesturing at his strong frame. “You’re a warrior. A strong one. You have different duties. The guards who patrol are different.”

Kenji’s lips curled into a grin, and he stepped forward, looking down at you with pride. “First of all, I’m not a strong warrior. I’m the strongest.” His chest puffed out even more, his chin tilting upwards as if the very idea of being anything less than the best was an insult. The smirk on his face deepened as he caught your eye. “And don’t you know we were attacked yesterday? One of our warriors almost died?”

His words hit you like a slap. You blinked in disbelief, the words barely registering in your mind. “What?” The harshness in your voice made Kenji wince, his hand instinctively going to his ear as if to shield it from the sound. He stepped back, his face contorting in discomfort, eyes wide with surprise.

“You don’t know? Nobody told you?” His voice was quieter now, almost uncertain, and you shook your head in response. His brow furrowed, confusion turning to something else—something closer to curiosity. “Why?” he asked, a tinge of disbelief still hanging in his voice.

“I was ordered by Jungkook to stay away from pack business and so was told others not to tell me anything,” you explained, the words coming out flat, detached. You didn’t expect his reaction—his face drained of colour, and he looked like he had seen a ghost. His throat bobbed, and a heavy gulp escaped him, loud and clear. There was panic in his eyes now.

“Kenji?” You walked closer, your gaze softening as his body trembled slightly. You put your arm on his shoulder, trying to offer some form of comfort.

But what you didn’t expect was the shift in his posture, the way his shoulders hunched as if the weight of something far heavier rested on them.

“Are you crying?” you asked in disbelief, your voice almost a whisper.

“I don’t want to die.” He whispered, his voice small and muted. The words hung in the air, heavy and confusing.

“I still want to find my mate and impregnate her.” His confession was quiet, the last part barely audible.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Okay, now I’m just here nervously waiting for your thoughts! Please go easy on me, I promise I’m trying my best! 😬

#parkitrighthere #bts ffs #bts ff #ashes of promises #bts fanfic #anon ask #bts smut #jeon jungkook #thankyou so much for sending me this ask anon #jungkook scenarios #jungkook bangtan #jimin and jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook bts #jungkook fluff

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bokutosbabe · 3 days ago

Note

It said requests are open so here I am 🥲 no need to do it if you're busy 😅❤️

My top song was Because by Changbin and Felix and top artist was Stray kids (I mean I was crazy about them this year but still Lana has a special place in my heart 😭💕)

Thank you for your awesome writing! 🌟✨🔥

Hi!!

if your top song was Because by Changbin and Felix, I'd pair you with...

rensuke kunigami

જ⁀♡⊹｡° i want nothing more

♡ a/n — for my spotify wrapped event - masterlist -

♡ content — rensuke kunigami x gn! reader, gn! reader, post-wildcard kunigami, manga spoilers!!!, kunigami knows he's changed, established relationship

♡ synopsis — kunigami rensuke wasn't the same as when he left, but you don't care. you'd be by his side through hell if he wanted you to be.

It’s late, and the room is quiet except for the faint hum of the heater kicking in. You’re sitting on the edge of Kunigami’s couch, fiddling with the sleeve of your sweater, watching him out of the corner of your eye. He’s barely spoken since he got back from his workout—just a clipped “I’m back,” before he disappeared to shower. Now he sits across from you, his body rigid, his sharp eyes fixed on the floor, lost in thought.

He’s different now. You knew that the moment you saw him again after Blue Lock. The warmth in his gaze had been replaced by something harder, darker. His voice, once steady and calm, now carried an edge, as if every word cost him something.

But tonight, he seems... tired. Not in the physical sense—Kunigami’s body is as strong as ever, maybe even stronger—but something inside him feels frayed, like he’s spent too long keeping it all together.

“Rensuke,” you say softly, leaning forward. He doesn’t look up. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he mutters.

You sigh. This was becoming a pattern. You’d ask, he’d deflect, and the distance between you would stretch a little further each time. But tonight, something in you snaps. You can’t let him keep shutting you out.

“It’s not nothing,” you press, your voice firmer now. “You’ve been like this for weeks—barely talking, barely looking at me. I know things are different, but—”

“They’re not different,” he cuts in sharply, his head snapping up to meet your gaze. His eyes are blazing now, frustration and something else—guilt, maybe?—swirling in them. “I’m different. And you know it.”

You stare at him, your heart aching at the weight in his words. He looks away again, his jaw clenched tight, his hands balled into fists on his knees.

“You didn’t used to be like this,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “You used to let me in. You used to—”

“I can’t be that person anymore,” he interrupts, his voice low, almost a growl. “That person is gone. And I can’t... I can’t go back.”

The silence that follows is deafening. You feel the sting of his words like a slap, but you also see the cracks forming in his armor—the way his shoulders sag, the way his fists loosen slightly.

“Maybe you can’t go back,” you say quietly, moving to sit beside him. “But you don’t have to shut me out, Rensuke. I’m still here. I still...” You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. “I still care about you. No matter how much you’ve changed.”

He exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath this whole time. For a moment, you think he’s going to push you away again, but then his head drops into his hands, his fingers tangling in his hair.

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to be with you when I don’t even know who I am.”

Your chest tightens at the vulnerability in his words. Slowly, you reach out, your hand hovering over his shoulder before finally resting there. He flinches at the contact but doesn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to figure it out alone,” you say softly. “I’m here, Rensuke. I’ve always been here.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, he turns to look at you. His eyes are still filled with conflict, but there’s something else there now too—something softer, more familiar.

He doesn’t say anything, but the way he leans into your touch speaks volumes. It’s not a resolution, not yet. But it’s a start.

And for now, that’s enough.

wildcard kunigami i hate and love you all the same

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #bllk #blue lock #airy answers asks :)#bllk x reader #kunigami x reader #kunigami rensuke #bllk kunigami #blue lock kunigami #kunigami rensuke x reader #rensuke x reader #rensuke kunigami #blue lock x reader

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galaxy-stardust · 1 day ago

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Simon Ghost Riley x you

Part 9

"I want you"

I couldn’t keep living with the lie. Every glance my husband gave me, every moment we spent in the same room, only amplified the guilt I felt. It was unbearable, and yet, part of me resented it—the way he could look at me with love and not see the chaos tearing me apart inside.

That evening, as we sat across from each other at the dinner table, the silence stretched too long. My food sat untouched, and I could feel his eyes on me, his concern palpable.

“What’s going on with you?” he finally asked, his voice soft but steady. “You’ve been different for weeks now. Distant. Is it work? Is it us?”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. This was it. There was no going back.

“I need to tell you something,” I began, my voice shaking. “And it’s not going to be easy to hear.”

His brow furrowed, his fork clinking against his plate as he set it down. “What is it?”

“I met someone.” The words were out before I could stop them, and the weight of them hung heavy in the air between us. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. And now…I don’t know what to do.”

His face fell, the color draining from his cheeks. “You…you met someone?” he echoed, his voice breaking. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’ve been unhappy,” I said, tears welling in my eyes. “For a long time. And I didn’t even realize how much until he came into my life.”

The pain in his eyes was devastating, and I hated myself for putting it there. “Do you love him?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, the truth as raw as the emotions coursing through me. “But I feel something for him—something I can’t ignore. Something I’ve never felt before.”

He sat back in his chair, his hands running through his hair as he tried to process what I was saying. “So what now?” he asked, his voice tinged with anger and hurt. “Are you leaving me? For him?”

“I don’t know,” I said again, my voice cracking. “But I need to figure it out. I need time to think—to figure out what I want.”

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded, his voice tight. “If you need time, take it. But don’t expect me to wait around forever.”

~~~

The decision to leave wasn’t easy, but I knew I had to see Ghost. I had to talk to him, to understand what this was between us and whether it was worth risking everything for. The thought of flying—something I’d always dreaded—was almost enough to make me turn back. But the pull toward him was stronger than my fear.

The airport was a blur of anxiety and second-guessing. As the plane took off, I gripped the armrests so tightly my knuckles turned white, my heart pounding in my chest. Every second in the air felt like an eternity, but the thought of seeing him kept me grounded.

When the plane finally landed, my legs were shaky, and my nerves were frayed. I clutched my bag as I stepped into the bustling terminal, scanning the crowd for any sign of him.

And then I saw him. Standing near the exit, his tall frame unmistakable, his mask in place. Even in a sea of strangers, he stood out, his presence magnetic. My heart leapt at the sight of him, and for a moment, all my doubts and fears melted away.

We didn’t say much on the drive to his place. The tension between us was thick, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the weight of everything we had left unsaid.

When we arrived, he led me into a small, sparsely furnished apartment. It was utilitarian, with no personal touches—just like him. He stood across from me, his arms crossed, his gaze intense.

“You came,” he said, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

“I had to,” I replied, my voice trembling. “I needed to see you. To talk about…about us.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “So talk.”

I took a deep breath, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I don’t know what this is between us, but I can’t stop thinking about you. About what we had. And I need to know if this—if we —could ever work. Because if it can’t, I need to let you go.”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You think I don’t feel the same?” he asked, his voice rough. “You think I haven’t been going out of my mind since the moment I left?”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” I shot back, my emotions boiling over. “Why didn’t you fight for me?”

“Because I don’t know if I can give you the life you deserve,” he said, his voice breaking for the first time. “I don’t know if I can be the man you need. My life—it’s dangerous, unpredictable. I’m always on the move. And I didn’t want to drag you into that.”

I stepped closer, my hands trembling as I reached for him. “I don’t care about any of that,” I said, my voice fierce. “I just need to know if you want this. If you want me.”

His hands came up to cradle my face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “I want you,” he said, his voice like a vow. “But it won’t be easy. We’d have to live in the shadows. We’d have to fight for every moment together. Are you ready for that?”

I stared into his eyes, my heart pounding. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I’m willing to try. If you are.”

For the first time, I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Then we’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice steady. “Together.”

#cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader

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faith-forgxtten-land · 11 hours ago

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Sloppy | Raphael

okay so this wasn’t a request but i’ve been MIA for a while and i haven’t really had the opportunity to write much over the past few months so this is really just writing practice (forgive me if it's subpar, i'm rusty)

also, if you've requested something, i promise that i'm working on it so please be patient!

made with bayverse in mind!!

warnings: NSFW, first thing i’ve properly written in months so be kind people, swearing, afab reader — mentions of pussy etc., oral sex (f!receiving), raph is a little feral and mean i feel… everyone is 18+!!, not proofread so lemme know if you notice any glaring errors

summary: raph eats your pussy; he’s greedy and sloppy (it’s perfect)

word count: 651 (short and not sweet)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

raph eats pussy like a man possessed. he’s sloppy and loud about it, spit and slick all over his face as he spreads your legs as wide as possible and then even wider. your hips ache from the stretch, and you can already tell you’ll be sore tomorrow, but all you can do is whine and moan, hands covering your heated face in a futile effort to silence yourself.

you can’t even grind down against him like this because the bastard has one arm casually slung over your stomach, his huge palm pressing down just so, enough to make you whimper. you can feel him grinning meanly against your thigh with each failed arch of your spine, nipping your flesh in cruel, teasing bites that are sure to leave purple marks, before he continues to lap at your cunt like he hasn’t eaten in a week.

“raph,” you wheeze desperately, whimpers getting stuck in your throat as he practically growls against you. the sound is dark and agonised, and you can’t help but gasp as he pushes a thick digit inside you. “raph, raph, raph—”

he tongues your clit and crooks his finger, and you can no longer breathe, hands now clenched into bedsheets and thighs shaking with every sloppy touch. “that’s it,” he rumbles, the vibrations only making you tremble more. “that’s it, give it to me.”

your moans fill the room in perfect harmony with the filthy squelch of your pussy as raph fucks you with his calloused finger. it’s already too much, but you think you might pass out when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks like he’s trying to reap your soul. “oh my god—”

you’re whining so loud, choked, and so, so needy, but you can’t find it within you to feel shame even as a distant part of your brain acknowledges that you won’t be able to look his brothers in the eye for a good week after this.

white eclipses your vision when you come, falling headfirst over that precipice that you’ve been teetering on for god knows how long. you fall silent when you do, mouth parted and back finally arching as raph lets your body take exactly what it needs; he lets you grind your hips down, mouth still fixed over your clit as your thighs clamp down around his skull.

he’s mumbling something dirty and full of sacrilege when you finish, his words a wicked churr that tips you into oversensitivity, and you whine weakly when he keeps moving his finger inside you, letting it drag against your slick walls with a slightly sadistic delight.

he chuckles when you slap his forearm weakly, but he acquiesces and slowly pulls back, groaning to himself when he sees just how soaked his hand is. “such a good girl,” he murmurs, looking right at you when he tastes you on his finger. he groans again at the flavour as if he hasn’t been buried in your pussy for the best part of the last hour.

“you’re terrible,” you tell him, voice wrecked, when he finally releases his finger from his mouth.

his smirk is shameless and greedy. “oh, i know.” his warm palms rest against your wet thighs, parting them again with ease. your hipbones twinge, and you gasp as he drags you closer to him, nestling between your legs like he belongs there (he does). “and we’re nowhere near done.”

his eyes are dark and leering, gluttonous and greedy, never full of you but always full of sin, and you swallow thickly as his lips twist into a ravenous snarl, nostrils flaring as you somehow grow even wetter, slick trickling down your already soaked thigh at the unadulterated lechery above you.

by the time you're done, several hours and several orgasms later, you know you won’t be able to look his brothers in the eye for at least a month.

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt bayverse #bayverse tmnt #rapahel x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #bayverse raph #tmnt raphael #raph x reader #tmnt smut #tmnt x reader smut #bayverse raphael #tmnt raphael smut

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rhiannonsknife · 1 day ago

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⋆₊❅. — have yourself a merry little christmas

angst & hurt/comfort. secret relationship. gn!reader.

you find shauna by the windowsill, the bright morning light filtering through the frost-covered glass casting soft shadows across her face. her arms are wrapped tightly around herself, her gaze distant as she stares out at the snow-covered woods that surround the cabin. the place is unusually quiet, with most of the others still asleep, their breaths mingling in the cold air.

for a moment, you hesitate. she looks so oddly small, so lost that it stirs something deep inside you: memories of the life you shared back home. you were hers once, in secret: shared kisses in the backseat of her car, fingers brushing during practice, the quiet nights when it was just the two of you. you hadn’t officially ended things when the plane went down, the wilderness had done it for you. between the secrets, the fear, and everything else this place demanded, you’d drifted apart without a word without ever talking things through.

“shauna,” you say softly before you can overthink it, slowly stepping closer. she doesn’t flinch and her eyes flicker toward you.

you sit down beside her, careful to keep enough distance so she doesn’t feel cornered, but close enough that she knows you’re there. “it’s christmas,” you tell her gently, your breath visible in the chill of the cabin as you get straight to the point, half expecting shauna to barely acknowledge it at all.

instead, her brows knit together, a flash of confusion crossing her face. “what?”

“today,” you say again. “it’s december 25th. christmas day!”

shauna blinks, her lips parting slightly as if she’s about to say something, but no words come. “i’ve been keeping track,” you explain, pulling a small, makeshift calendar from your pocket. the paper is torn from scraps you’ve found over the months, but the marks are precise, each day carefully counted. “i didn’t want us to forget. birthdays, holidays, anything important. i just…thought maybe it would help, you know?”

for all the time you’ve spent together back home, shauna feels like a stranger now, just the ghost of the girl you fell in love with.

“you’ve been doing this the whole time?” she asks then, her voice barely above a whisper.

you nod, nervously fidgeting with the edge of the paper. “yeah. i thought it mattered. especially today.”

“christmas,” shauna repeats, the word sounding almost foreign on her tongue, like it belongs to another world entirely.

“it’s still christmas,” you tell her softly, bracing to be met with her usual rejection. “even here,”

to your surprise, shauna turns toward you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “it doesn’t feel like it,” she admits, her voice trembling. “nothing feels like it used to…”

you heart aches at her words. you remember the way things used to be: the way she’d sneak out to meet you, the way her hand would linger on yours just a second too long when no one was watching too closely. you wonder if she ever thinks about it, or if the wilderness has swallowed those memories whole, the same way it has taken so much else from you both.

“it doesn’t,” you agree quietly, reaching out to gently touch her arm. “but maybe it can still mean something? even if it’s not the same?”

shauna looks down at your hand before she slowly intertwines her fingers with yours. her grip is hesitant at first, but it tightens after a moment.

“we used to talk about christmas,” she says after a long pause. it’s the first time she brings up the way things used to be. you could listen to her for hours if she’d speak of it more often, curl up in the warmth of her voice and the memories of what was before. “back home. what it would be like when…when we didn’t have to sneak around anymore,”

“i remember,” you say quietly. “i remember everything.”

her breath hitches, and for the first time, the walls she’s been holding up seem to crumble. without warning, she leans into you, her head resting on your shoulder, her body trembling with barely restrained sobs. instinctively, likes she’s never left your arms at all, you pull her into your embrace.

“i miss her,” shauna whispers. “i miss jackie i miss home. i miss…everything”

you don’t know what to say to that, so you just wrap your arm around her, holding her closer as her tears soak into your shirt. “i know,” you murmur, your hand gently stroking her hair. “i miss it all too.”

after a moment, shauna pulls back just enough to look up at you, her cheeks flushed and tear streaked. there’s a moment of hesitation, a question lingering, before she finally leans in and presses a trembling kiss to your lips. it’s hesitant at first, but deepens, once you fall back into the way things used to be.

when she pulls away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath warm against your skin. “thank you,” she whispers. “for remembering. for being here”

“always” you promise when shauna falls back into your arms, allowing you to hold her while the others sleep.

i wrote this while being overstimulated at the christmas function, so enjoy 🤗🤗

#˙ ❆ ̟ !! ─ christmas works #shauna shipman #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x female reader #shauna shipman x fem!reader #shauna shipman x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you

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tagsecretsanta · 2 days ago

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From @call-me-casual

From @call-me-casual to @thalassastra

Prompts

John and Scott

The natural world or a non-sky/space related hobby

Hurt/comfort or fluff

The plan:

John and Scott go for an early-morning walk post mission in a frosty park. Hijinks ensue. Scott worries about John, falls down, they laugh. They find a robin (or does it find them?), and reminisce about an old superstition their mum told them a long time ago. “Maybe someone doesn’t have to be dead to send a robin. Maybe… if they try hard enough, they can send one anyway, to see if we’re alright.”

Silence in space was very different to “silence” on Earth. Most people thought they knew quiet, but they had never truly been in the absence of sound created by the endless vacuum that was their universe. In a way, you could consider it a vast deprivation chamber, nothing to hear or feel, your only visuals being stars no matter which way you turn.

Silence on Earth wasn’t silence. No matter where on the planet someone stood, there would always be noise. Leaves rustling, cars rumbling along roadways, the far off chatter of other humans, the wind. Hell, even things like the aurora had a sound if you listened hard enough. Although that occurred in the atmosphere - so would it count as a space sound? Eh, who cares about specifics.

In this place, Earth silence was the distant trickle of frigid water, the flitter of wings as a robin hopped from one skeletal tree to another, a crow hidden somewhere in the morning mist letting the world hear what it had to say, the gentle crunch of frosted ground underfoot-

“I mean, the nerve! The audacity!”

John smirked. Seemed like the crow wasn’t the only thing making its opinions known.

Scott’s face was pulled into an annoyed pout of sorts. John knew his older brother, could read him like one of his many (many, probably too many) books, and considered himself fluent enough in Scott-facial-language to understand when he was dealing with ‘annoyed, but harmless’ Scott Tracy versus ‘I’m five seconds from murder or a breakdown’ Scott Tracy. Today was the former.

The orphan commander grumbled as he trudged along, looking a bit like an angry dragon with the little puffs of steam that came from his breath, his hands fiddling with the strings of a hoodie worn not out of necessity, but a half-arsed attempt at concealing his IR uniform. Anyone with functioning eyes and half a synapse could see that everyone from the waist down gave it away, but it was 7:09am, GMT, in early December. No sane English person would be up at this time, let alone out for a run.

They walked past a tall cluster or gorse, bedazzled so slightly by ice and frost that glinted in what sunlight broke through the clouds. Lady P had been right, this place was beautiful…

That hoodie string wasn’t going to last much longer like this.

“Alright, what’s wrong, Scott?”

“We’ve come a long way as a species, but this could set us back years! Decades!” The brunette tugged at his hair, disrupting the perfectly combed style.

John could feel a smirk tugging at his lips

“Are you still on that?”

“Yes! If this were to get out-“

“I don’t think people will try it, Scott…”

Scott turned to look at John, big blue eyes narrowed with cold seriousness.

“You don’t know people like I do, John. You haven’t… haven’t seen what I’ve seen. There are maniacs out there, pure evil. This is… it’s too dangerous. We need to alert the GDF! I refuse to let my brothers live in a world where-“

The ginger fought the urge to roll his eyes, finding support against a fence post. Damn gravity.

“It’s pie, Scott. The world isn’t going to end because someone put cream cheese on their pie.”

Scott scowled, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a melodramatic huff. He blinked his eyes, jaw tensed to hold in what was obviously a yawn.

“You haven’t slept in over 24 hours, have you?”

It was hardly a question, John had been the one to send Scott on back to back missions - regretfully - and he knew how his brother worked. Burn bright, burn fast, burn out.

Scott waved his hand dismissively, blinking again.

“I’m fine, just a little tired.” He said “Nothing a little cold air won’t fix!”

“…”

“Okay and maybe a coffee.” Scott didn’t bother to hide the roll of his eyes, even as he turned that gaze of sky to his lesser earthbound brother.

“But what about you?” He said, “It’s an icy, frosty morning and you’ve just thrown yourself down from Five to…” Scott trailed off, brow knotting together as he came to the realisation that he didn’t actually know John’s motives for leaving his usually preferred solitude in geostationary orbit.

John huffed, trying to reached across a large gap in the fence without losing his current handhold. That would spell disaster in way of sudden acquaintance with the dirt, and there was no way in hell he’d give Scott the satisfaction of seeing that happen.

“Can’t a guy want to spend some quality time with his big brother?”

“You have Virgil for that-“

“I said big brother, I didn’t say older brother.”

Scott’s face scrunched, each invasive silver hair glinting like the frost. John frowned.

“When was the last time you hung out with any of us? No, let me rephrase-“

John clutched to a fence post as pulled himself up,

“-When was the last time any of us hung out with you?”

There it was. The sideways glance, the twitch of the lips, the falter.

Scott Tracy wore his mask well in front of the world, the mask of the strapping young man who’d stepped up to bare the weight of their father’s legacy. But when they were alone, when the only eyes on them were that of a singing robin did that mask, for just a moment, slip.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not very interesting-“

“Scott-“

“I’m fine-“

“You’re still our brother-“

“I told you I’m f-IIINNEEE!”

Scott Tracy was many things. Daring. Charismatic. Loyal to a fault. Heart of gold. A quick thinker.

Graceful on ice, or any other slippery surface for that matter? Unfortunately no.

The brunet’s notorious “noodle legs” (so affectionately named by Tracy Island’s resident Fish freak) fell from under him, and for a brief second Scott’s equally “noodly” arms - John made a mental note to ask Virgil to keep an eye on when their brother eats - flailed like the flapping of a nearby robin’s wings in attempt to keep upright.

That cruel mistress gravity won out. Scott hit the ground with a thud, gasping in pain as his head slammed on the ground.

“Scott!”

John’s heart sank. Oh no, no no no no. A hit like that could leave at best a concussion, at worse more serious damage. What if Scott couldn’t fly One? What if he got knocked out? What if he got brain damage?! What if-

The undignified yelp that left the Space Monitor’s lips would go unheard and forgotten. If anyone asked, it never happened. Never. Like a tree falling in the woods with no one around to hear it.

Was that how the saying went?

He flopped down into the cold and the dirt alongside Scott, getting a face full of hoodie. John raised his head and shook it frantically.

“Scott?!”

Please be okay please be-

Scott’s shoulders shook, his chest heaving with each shaky breath he took. A hand found its way to John’s back, clutching it as the pilot threw his head back

And laughed.

It was a sound as welcome as a robin’s song on a cold winter’s morning, and in no time John joined him.

And the shivers of a pair of tropically-acclimated brothers as they huddled on a small bench, watching the sublimation of sun-warmed frost mingle with the waning sea of mist.

Scott giggled softly, the dimples gracing his cheeks creased and deepened as that still youthful face pulled back into a relaxed, gleeful expression. Sunlight to melt away the cold silver that tried to creep in, to take that boy away from them all. John idly rubbed at the drying mud in the pilot’s hair.

He knew, that just like the endless return of winter and the greater pass of time, that the silver would always be there, waiting like a beast beyond a door, ready to take Scott into its peremptory grasp and never let go. It would come one day, but not today. John Glenn Tracy was not a man who gave in, and he intended to hold the beast at bay for as long until he could no longer.

No one would take his brother from him.

A small flash of red flittered across his vision, and John looked up at the little robin settled on a branch overhead. Scott sniffed, trying to dispel the cold from his now reddened nose.

“I swear that thing has been following us.” John thought aloud.

“The robin?” Scott sat up, relinquishing John’s side back to the frigid air. “Aww, he’s cute!”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

Scott shrugged, “it’s big?”

John rolled his eyes in amusement, even if he itched to correct his brother.

“It’s the females that bigger in most bird species.”

“I swear Virgil said robin guys are bigger.”

John hummed in acknowledgment, chewing his inner cheek to distract himself. Damn it.

“…I’ve got one of those shortbread things in my pocket.” Scott said, reaching a hand into his worn out hoodie, producing a small packet. He pressed it between his hands, grinding the contents.

“Give me your hand.”

John blinked, sitting a little straighter.

“Me? Why me?”

Those big pools of sky did a barrel roll. The eldest grabbed his brother’s hand, bringing it close and tipping the former shortbread into John’s hand.

“Because you need some connection to the planet you’re from that isn’t going face first into it.”

Okay, touché. John couldn’t find an argument against that. This was the first time he’d been down in what, a month? Two? He’d ask EOS, but the space monitor had suspicion that she’d take his brother’s side and join team Smotherhen. Traitorous little…

“Still, John!” Scott’s excited whisper brought John back to Earth. Was he trying to tell him something and he’d completely ignored him? Or was that an instruction? A pair of tiny talons gripped into his spacesuit, and John watched as the small robin - its feathers a shade Virgil would almost definitely call “Scott brown” and its belly a fiery orange not unlike John’s own hair - pecked at the offering. Its moved with swift little hops, dipping its head down like lightning to enjoy the treat. Occasionally those black eyes would glance his way, and John felt his breath catch.

The brothers sat in silence, watching as their little friend ate.

“He’s tame.” Scott mumbled quietly.

“I still think it’s a female.” John said. The robin didn’t move.

Scott curled his hand, gripping his uniform with that telltale anxious energy. He chewed his lip before speaking.

“Do you… remember that old saying mum used to tell us after Grandpa died? That robins-“

“-are our loved ones coming to check on us?” John recalled that day. It was little Alan’s first time seeing the red-bellied birds. Gordon’s too, if he remembered correctly - that boy only had eyes for anything that swam. It had sat on the windowsill all morning, an unusual sight for the ranch’s climate really. Their baby brother had been so fascinated by it, until it flittered suddenly and startled the toddler. Mum had consoled him, and told them all it was just Grandpa. The old man had always loved a good joke.

“Do you think it’s mum?”

“I thought you said it was a male robin.” John cast his brother a smirk.

“Well it can’t be…” Scott trailed off like the word had lodged in the back of his throat, refusing to come out. Because that would be bringing a bad idea into the world, making it real.

“He’s not… he can’t…” the frost began to creep in.

John ran his free hand up Scott’s back, up until he brushed against his hair like he could melt the silver away with the warmth of his hand. Staring down that vile beast, standing tall and saying “try me”.

John Glenn Tracy had lost his father to the frost. He wouldn’t lose Scott.

“You know, Scott… mum never said our loved ones had to be dead. Maybe you don't have to be dead to send a robin. Maybe… if they try hard enough, if they really, really try… they can send one anyway, to make sure we’re okay.”

#thunderbirds are go #tag team secret santa #thunderbirds #tag team secret santa 2024

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