#what ive chosen to do instead of go to bed

[staud]

In the dream I don’t tell anyone, you put your head in my lap. – Richard Siken Song: "A 1000 TIMES" by Hamilton Leithauser

[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass."｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Attempted Non/Con, Stalking, Violence, Age Gaps, Teacher/Student, Caretaker/Ward, Bullying

Color indicator: Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

Another dull morning, you think to yourself, rolling over to turn off your alarm. You pick up your cellphone and blearily swipe your screen as you clamber out of bed. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you really didn’t notice anything was wrong until you stood up and looked in the mirror. You blink, poking at you face and staring where your reflection should be, but isn’t. You wave your hand in front of the mirror. Nothing.

You look around, only to realize that your surroundings are different, too. The room you’re in is plain, cramped, and completely devoid of character. It’s almost liminal, in a way. Eerie in its emptiness. 

You need to get out of here. 

You nervously reach for the door and twist the handle. The doornob moves with you, but the door remains fixed in place. Your phone buzzes, and you fish it out of your pocket, quickly turning it on. You’ve gotten a text, but the number is blank.

You have not chosen an avatar yet. Please choose one from the mirror before leaving your room.

Well, that woke you right up. Is someone watching you? You swerve your head around, checking the ceilings and corners for cameras. You try the door again. You go in circles, turning the whole room upside down. You try the door. Nothing. You check your phone. The same message appears as soon as you open it. You swipe it away out of habit, but it refuses to budge. Freaky. The time hasn’t changed since you woke up, either, though you’re sure you’ve been at it for more than fifteen minutes by now.

You decide to take a peek at the mirror again. You try to remove it from the wall to look behind, but your vision goes white the second you make contact with its’ surface. Your vision clears, and in front of you is a grey figure of ambiguous gender. It looks almost made of clay. Your phone buzzes.

Player avatar selection. 

Select a sex. Sex cannot be changed after starting the game.

1.) Male 2.) Female 3.) Hermaphrodite

Well, you’ve either fallen asleep or been drugged. Not knowing what else to do, you choose female, watching in horror and fascination as the figure morphs to accommodate your choice. 

>Next

Other customization options soon come up. You give the figure your ideal height, weight, and features. You change her skin tone, hair color, texture, and eye color. You watch as she slowly comes to life as your ideal. The person you’ve always wanted to be. 

Your phone buzzes just as you finish touching her up.

Set Name

You’re about to name her when the text fills itself in with your name instead.

Welcome, [First]! 1. Start Game!

You grimace, and hit play.

—————————

When you come to, it’s 07:00 again, and you’re still in that room. You glance at the mirror, only to see your avatar glancing back. You wave your arm in front of it, and she mimics your movements perfectly. You make a lewd gesture, and she does, too. Creepy. Is this really a dream? You’re startled out of your thoughts as your phone buzzes once again.

Welcome to the alpha of Degrees of Lewdity!

If you want to avoid trouble, dress modestly and stick to safe, well-lit areas. Nights are particularly dangerous. Dressing lewd will attract attention, both good and bad. 

The new school year starts tomorrow at 09:00. The bus service is the easiest way to get around town. Don’t forget your uniform and backpack!

1. Next

Your face pales as you read the text. There’s no way. You hit next, reminding yourself that you’re only in a dream, and that no one can harm you in a dream. Your phone opens to its home screen, where you see various apps, some of which are labled.

-Characteristics -Social -Traits -Journal -Stats -Feats

You open characteristics and take a look. At the very top is a color chart indicator. description of your body’s appearance and condition, underneath are familiar stats.

Purity: 7/7 You are angelic. Physique: 3/6 Your body is average. Willpower: 1/6 You are fainthearted. Awareness: 3/7 You have a normal understanding of sexuality. Promiscuity: 0/6 You are chaste and pure.  Exhibitionism: 0/6 You are coy. Deviancy: 0/6 You are squeamish.

Everything seems to be in line with the stats for the beginning of a playthrough. Everything except one.

Beauty: 7/6 Your beauty is beyond measure.

That’s…not good, if the blaring red is anything to go off of, anyway. 

You scroll down. Your skills are all ranked as F, which is actually better than the “None” stat they usually start as. That’s weird, but you aren’t complaining. Your sex skills, however…are all at C. That’s super weird! You aren’t sure what to make of it, so you choose to ignore it instead. 

Your overall school performance is terrible, with F’s all around the board. In real life, this would mean you’d picked the athlete trait, but your physique is baseline, and your athletic stat is also at F, so it can’t be that. It must just be inconsistencies from being asleep, you reason. That’s why your stats are all over the place.

Your status is normal, aside from your allure. Which is maxed out at “You look like you need to be ravaged.” You shudder.

You check traits. You have two.

Alien - You aren’t from around here! RPG like elements have been incorporated into your reality for a smoother experience.  Virgin - Your purity recovers faster. Your virginity might be worth something.

You open your journal. 

It is the 4th of September, 2022.

-It has been 0 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term starts on Monday the 5th of September.

Current quests:

Visit Bailey in his office by 20:00 tonight to recover your ID documents and gain your independence.

Failure to complete quest will result in the day restarting

You turn your phone off and look around. Everything seems normal, too normal. You read somewhere once that it’s impossible (or perhaps just very difficult) to read clearly while in a dream. Could you have been drugged? Or did you take something and then forget about it?

You pinch yourself. Ow.

Well, that’s not solid proof. People have reported cases of feeling pain in dreams before it’s just kind of really rare is all. Or, or! Maybe you’re not dreaming. Maybe you’re dying. Maybe you got into an accident somewhere, and now you’re in a coma. People hallucinate during comas, don’t they? 

You pinch yourself, again. 

It’s not real.

…You might as well see what this quest is about.

You leave your bedroom, and walk to Bailey’s office. You don’t question how you know the way there. You knock on the door and enter. 

“I know why you’re here,” he says. “You want me to release you from my protection, so you’ll be an independent citizen. I could do that. But there’s a problem. You’ve been living under my roof without giving anything in return. You owe me. Until you pay me back, I’m not letting you go.” He picks up an envelope and flips through it. Dozens of identification documents are stored within it. One of them is yours. “£100 should do. To start with. I don’t care how you get it. Knock on doors and ask for work. Rent yourself as a footstool. Steal it, even. Just have it a week from now. Or I’ll find a way to extract value from you.”

You nod and leave his office, returning to your room.

Your phone buzzes as soon as you close the door. 

Quest completed. New quest added to journal. View Now? 

Y/N

You hit yes. 

Time-Sensitive:

Bailey wants £100 on Sunday. Find a job and free yourself from his clutches. 

That’s great and all, but maybe you shouldn’t leave the orphanage today…or ever. Not until you wake up. You decide to just download some social media apps and scroll for the rest of the day instead. You scroll until midday, when you’re stopped by your stomach growling. Can you get hungry inside a dream…? You feel uneasy as you climb off the bed. Your neck hurts from the uncomfortable position you had been in, but that’s the least of your worries right now. 

You leave your bedroom and enter the main hall. A trim girl happens to be passing by your door, so you stop her and ask about when lunch is. She looks at you strangely. 

“Whenever you want…? Just go somewhere and get it. I don’t know.” 

“I meant here, can we get food here?” 

“Sure, if you’re underage. We have to provide for ourselves once we reach eighteen, though. You know that. Everyone knows that.” She leaves in a hurry. You go back to your room to watch “Gootube” videos. It’s not as pornographic as it sounds. 

You stay on your phone for the rest of the day. It never seems to run out of charge. Finally, you turn it off and climb under the covers. You don’t bother to wear pajamas. You sleep soundly, and wake up at 07:00 on Sunday, September 4th. 

Wait, what? 

You look at your journal again. 

Journal 

It is the 4th of September, 2022.

-It has been 0 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term starts on Monday the 5th of September.

Current quests:

Visit Bailey in his office by 20:00 tonight to recover your ID documents and gain your independence. Failure to complete quest will result in the day restarting

But you didn’t fail your quest! You completed it and…

It’s because you didn’t get a job yesterday, isn’t it? 

You sigh and climb out of bed. Off to visit Bailey again. 

“I know why you’re here,” he says. God, you wish you could skip dialogue in real life. Or in dreams, you guess. Bailey wraps up his speech and you leave, this time heading outside the orphanage to look for work right after. 

As expected, you bump into someone almost immediately. A voluptuous woman grabs you. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen all week!” She says, lunging for your clothes. You step back, but she catches you, lifting your sundress’s skirt and revealing your lace panties. You try to grab her hand and pull it away, but she’s stronger than you. She pushes you to the ground, and you land painfully on the sidewalk. You let out an involuntary yelp as your elbows scrape on the pavement. Is she really going to try and molest you out in public like this? It would appear so, as she’s currently straddling your legs with her knees, keeping them apart. You come to your senses when you feel a hand on your groin, and scream out for help. 

A taut man comes to your rescue, chasing off the woman and helping you to your feet. He treats your wounds and gives you a pepper spray charge. You thank him and go on your way. 

The dog pound is probably the best place to start with, you think to yourself while looking at the map on your phone. So you hop on a bus and wait for your stop, but not before a thin man sits next to you and rests his hand on your thigh. You shuffle away from him, and he follows you. You stand up, and he does, too. No one else is paying attention. You quickly walk to the most crowded area of the bus and sit next to a plush woman. She doesn’t look happy, but doesn’t say anything, either. The thin man watches you from his seat. You reach your destination, and he moves to follow you when you stand. Luckily, a tall man stops him, giving you a thumbs up as he blocks the thin man’s view of you. You give him a grateful nod and step off. 

Your shift at the dogpound goes on without incident. Thugh the employees tried to get handsy more than a few times, they never took it further when you moved away. You even took your lunch break at the nearby cafe! You’re surprised by how much character the place had visually, considering it comes from a text-based game.

By the time the dog pound closes, it’s nighttime. You pale at the realization. It’s nighttime, and you’re in Degrees of Lewdity. Should you risk taking the bus? Or should you risk the streets? 

If you’re on a bus, you’re there for less time, but it’s an enclosed space. If you’re outside, there’s more places to run and hide. But hiding goes both ways. 

You elect to go through the streets, sticking to the places that are the most open and well-lit. You get home without incident, though you swear you saw something in the alleys. 

You collapse into bed and sleep for ten hours. 

—————————

It’s 07:03 when you wake up. You have school today, so you look through your wardrobe for your uniform. You find it, but…why is it so skimpy? Sheer tights, short plaid skirt, tight shirt, platform mary janes and loose socks. You put it on, but the shirt is so tight it won’t button all the way, leaving a sizable amount of your cleavage and lace bra visible. 

Speaking of which, aren’t you only supposed to start with plain underwear? Why is all of yours lace? And why does it clasp at the front? You spend twenty minutes looking for a jacket, different shirt, or other way to cover yourself, but find nothing. Bailey bangs on the doors around the orphanage to wake the orphans up. You sigh and put your clothes back into your wardrobe before leaving.

You bump into Robin on your way out. Literally. He nearly runs you over.

“Hey!” He says running towards you. He doesn’t slow down in time and plows right into you. You help him up. “Thanks,” he says, looking a bit bashful. “I didn’t see you yesterday. Remember, you can visit me in my room anytime you want. I have something to show you. I’m so excited!” He runs off, and you realize you’ve forgotten your backpack, so you head back in and find it. It takes you another ten minutes to realize you’d put it behind the door. By the time you’re ready, it’s already half an hour past seven. You decide to see if Robin is still in his room. 

You knock, and hear some crashing. Before you can ask if something’s wrong, Robin opens the door and hugs you. “Look,” he says, pulling you inside. Your eyes immediately land on the shiny new game console in the corner of the room. “I’ve been saving up,” he says. “What are you waiting for?” He pats the bed beside him and you hop on. You watch him play for a few minutes, and the two of you walk to school together. 

Though it’s literally your first time meeting him, you feel safer around Robin. Though you know he can’t fight to protect you, having someone by your side does a lot to ease the mind. Plus, he’s one of the only decent people in the game. You’re glad, but at the same time, you’re uneasy. You wonder if he notices you’re not his childhood friend. That you look like her, sound like her, but you aren’t her. You wonder if he’d hate you, should he find out.

“Is something wrong, [First]?” You snap to attention. 

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. I’m okay,” you say. “I was just kind of busy yesterday, came home exhausted but couldn’t sleep, you know how it is.” You wave your hand dismissively at him as you pass the school gates. “Where are you heading? I’d like to go with you, if that’s alright. Since I didn’t see you yesterday, and all.” Really, you just don’t want to be alone here. But there’s no need to say that. 

Robin smiles, and the two of you hang out in the rear courtyard. It’s nice, but you can feel him glancing at you when he thinks you’re not looking. It makes you uncomfortable. Has he caught on? You excuse yourself and head to the library. Maybe you should acquaint yourself with the other non-crazy person on campus. At least you won’t have to lie about your identity to Sydney. 

You walk over to the counter near the back of the library. A tall boy with a strawberry blonde ponytail and glasses is stamping books behind it. You smile as you approach him. “Good morning…” He says, yawning. “First time at the rental counter? You can rent out one book at a ti-” Sydney yawns.. “Time. You can also buy school-approved clothes here. Headmaster Leighton’s marked the prices way up, though. Students with a good record get special discounts.” He seems excited, though you can’t place why. 

“Books can be rented out for two weeks at a time. You can renew your rental at any time…” He looks down. You look down. Sydney has stamped his hand. You smile.”...Let’s call that a demonstration of what happens if you return a late or damaged book. My name’s Sydney, by the way! Pleased to meet you.” 

“I’m [First],” you respond. You and Sydney spend some time chatting. You notice that he’s oddly red. 

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask, raising a hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up! Let’s get you to the infirmary!” 

“W-what? No, I’m okay…” 

“No, you’re not,” you say, pulling him up by the forearm. You drag him to the infirmary, and he has to bend down to allow it. No one pays you much mind, though you’re sure you look a little silly, holding onto the forearm of someone much taller than you. You reach the nurse, who informs you that Sydney is perfectly healthy, though tells him to take a rest on one of the beds upon seeing the bags under his eyes.

“See?” He says, smiling. “I didn’t realize you were such a worrier.” You flush, embarrassed. Is pure Sydney supposed to tease people? His face softens. “Thanks…for worrying about me, though” he says, then checks the time. “You should probably get to class.” Right, you’d nearly forgotten you were at school. You thank Sydney for reminding you and leave as he waves you off.

You go to your science lesson. Despite your grade being at F, the lesson is actually pretty easy to follow, some of this you remember from your own highschool lessons. The bell rings and you leave the classroom, only to get shoved into a locker immediately. A boy with blonde hair covering one eye looms over you. You recognize him immediately. 

“Don’t get in my way again,” Whitney says, pressing his knee against your crotch. “Or I’ll put you in your place.” He releases you, but you know that won’t be the end of it. You hurry to math class, hoping Whitney will skip today. You’re tense for the first twenty minutes of class, but slowly begin to relax upon realizing Whitney probably isn’t going to show up. Nearly half an hour into class, the teacher River steps out for a moment. And with the kind of timing you’d only see in movies, Whitney waltzes in, his jacket thrown over his shoulder. You try to look away, but it’s too late. Whitney makes eye contact with you and grins. He walks over to the mousy girl sitting next to you. 

“Move,” he says. She does. You turn away from him, but he grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him.

This is unfair, you think to yourself. Whitney isn’t supposed to sit next to you unless you’re dating. Why now?

“Watcha lookin at, slut?”

This sucks. You want to go home. When is this dream supposed to end? 

Whitney tugs at your hair even harder. “I asked you a question, slut.”

How did you even get here in the first place? Did you really die? Were you in a coma? Whitney yanks your hair back so hard your body goes with it, creating an awful screeching sound as your chair lurches back. River walks in just in time to see you fall on your back. Whitney is sent out. He turns to make a penetration sign with his hands at you as he leaves. 

Math ends, and you head to English. There’s a crowd of students blocking your path. You peer over shoulders and heads to see the source of the commotion, and see a dark haired student on the ground, with two bullies standing over him. Your first instinct is Kylar, but you must be wrong. Kylar’s event shouldn’t happen until a week from now. 

You could try to help, but that would probably get you assaulted. Even if you didn’t, your fellow students would think less of you, leading you to getting picked on later, and potentially assaulted more and–

Fuck it, you can’t ignore this. You’re already shoving past students and blocking the bullies’ view of the student. “Leave him alone,” you say. “I won’t stand for this.” One of the bullies, a thin girl, shoves you down. 

“Sit, then!” She says, the audience laughs. You pick yourself up and ram into the thin girl and her friend. You knock her off-balance and she falls to the floor, screaming as soon as she lands. “You stupid bitch! You broke my tailbone!” The audience is laughing at her, now. Her friend is helping her up. “I’ll get you for this! Mark my fucking words!” You shiver. Hopefully no one notices. You turn to check on the boy they were harassing, only to nearly bump heads with him. You jump back, and the boy smiles apologetically. There’s something else in his expression, but before you can figure out what it was, you make eye contact with him, and the whole world goes dark.

Tousled black hair, short stature, sickly pale skin and the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s Kylar. It has to be. “T-thanks,” he says. “I-I’m Kylar.” Your face drops, but you aren’t sure if he saw it before running off. The tips of his ears are red, you notice. You step towards the crowd, which is already dispersing. The remaining onlookers make way for you, though you feel a hand grope your butt as you leave. You turn, but no one’s there. 

You head into English class, already exhausted. Kylar watches you from the back. You ignore him. The plump boy sitting behind you sniffs your hair during the entirety of the lesson, so it’s hard to focus. You look down at your notes. It’s an unintelligible mess. Is this what it means to have a grade F in English, you wonder?

Finally, it’s lunch time. You head to the cafeteria, passing by the headmaster on your way there. You swear you saw him checking you out. You shudder and speed up. Upon reaching the canteen, you are presented with three options.

Robin is talking with some students at his table, they seem to be arguing.

Sydney is sitting alone, several piles of books surrounding him. 

Kylar is also alone, stabbing at his food with more violence than seems neccesary.  

Despite your self preservation instincts, you walk towards Robin to see what the commotion is. The lean boy is accusing Robin of ‘looking at him with disrespect’. Arguing with him would be pointless. So you do the next best thing and smile as you spit in his face. 

As expected, he doesn’t take it well, and pounces on you immediately. He tears open your shirt, leaving you only marginally more exposed than you already were. You scream loudly, and Leighton rushes in. You suppress a smirk.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” He shouts, pushing past students to find you exposed on the ground, the lean boy holding you down. He scrambles off of you, and you fix your uniform. The lean boy tries to explain, but Leighton cuts him off and sends him out. Robin helps you up. 

“Are you okay?! Why did you do that?” 

“I saw Leighton on the way over here. I figured if we caused a scene, he’d be the one to get in trouble for it.”

“Don’t do something like that again! That was really dangerous!” You nod, though you don’t really mean it. 

Kylar watches from across the canteen. +Jealousy

The rest of lunch passes without incident and you go to History with Robin. The two of you chat about his game before class starts. You learn some interesting things about the history of the town. Nothing happens during history, and you leave feeling refreshed. You navigate the halls to your swimming lesson and change. You keep your eyes down, but swear you feel the stares of your classmates. You think you hear a camera go off, but when you turn, no one’s looking at you. 

A taut boy follows you around the pool, and doesn’t stop trailing until the lesson is over. He keeps his distance, but it still makes you feel uneasy. The bell rings, and you don’t see him again. 

You meet up with Robin in the courtyard, but hesitate walking home when you see Whitney hanging out by the gate.

“Can we go out through the back?”

“The back? Why?” You nod your head towards Whitney and his friends, and Robin makes an ‘O’ with his mouth. “I don’t mind, but how will we get out?” You’re about to answer when a realization hits you. Right. You haven’t unlocked the tunnel outside yet, which means you can’t leave unless you climb the fence. 

“...Nevermind,” you say. “Maybe they won’t notice us.” You and Robin try to blend in with the crowd, but a hand on your shoulder quickly yanks you into the open.

“Hold it, slut.” Shit. “You didn’t pay the toll.”

You grit your teeth. “What’s the toll?” Whatever, you have twenty quid to spare.

“Flash us your tits.” There’s a crowd circling around you. You notice people pulling out their phones. 

“[First]...” 

“It’s fine, Robin.” You give him a strained smile as you unbutton your blouse. “Happy?” You ask, turning back to Whitney. 

“Not quite,” he says, grabbing the front of your bra and unclasping the hook. Your breasts flop out. “There. That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” You turn and quickly fix your bra, wishing it clasped at the back instead of the front like a normal bra. You and Robin speed away, then find a secluded ally to fix your shirt.

Finally home, you decide to check out some of the apps you didn’t bother with yesterday.

Social              

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

Primary relationships: 

Robin The Orphan Robin wants to be your best friend.           Love: 100% Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Lust: 40%

You smile. It’s little different than the starting relationship in the actual game, but you’re slowly getting used to the inconsistencies. You’re about to look at the next box when your eyes are drawn back up to the pink text. Wait a minute, doesn’t that mean bad? You check the color chart to make sure.

But, why? Why is that bad? Isn’t it good? Or, is it because his confidence is low? Maybe the key word here is “wants”. Still, wouldn’t that count more as poor than bad? Whatever, no need to nitpick. You’ll check back in on it later. You move on.

…You almost move on. Why is his love so high? And his lust, too?! It’s gotta be a glitch, right? Right?

Right. You restart your phone and boot it back up. Nothing’s changed. You put that aside for now.

Whitney The Bully  Whitney wants to own you. Love: 50% Dominance: 50% Lust: 100%

Another different one. Also bad. Terrible, even. You aren’t even sure what to make of it. You just met him, and his lust is already maxed out. His love is also surprisingly high, though only half as much as Robin’s is. You make a mental note to sit in view of the teacher during math going forward.

Kylar The Loner Kylar is obsessed with you. Love: 100% Jealousy: 55% Lust: 90%

Another case of inexplicably high stats right off the bat, though you aren’t surprised with Kylar. You move on.

Sydney The Faithful ? Sydney is conflicted. Love: 77% Purity: 44% Lust: 66%

Okay, you’re pretty sure those are all just angel numbers. Or, supposed to be angel numbers. It’s kind of hard to do that with only two numbers. Though 666 is actually more of a demonic number, it still fits the theme. Aside from the strange percentages, you’re also concerned by the question mark next to ‘faithful’, not to mention the fact that his purity is already so low he’s conflicted. You haven’t even flirted with him yet!

You glance at the other named NPC’s. They’re all unremarkable, full of “has no strong opinion of you” aside from two.

Bailey The Caretaker Bailey doesn’t want you to leave. Love: 25% Lust: 99%

Leighton The Headmaster You’re Leighton’s favorite. Love: 10% Lust: 85%

Your stomach lurches. Gross. You are absolutely repressing that shit.

You check your reputation next.

-The police aren’t concerned with you, and have no evidence linking you to any crime. -The atmosphere in the orphanage is calm. -You are considered a normal student by teachers. -Your fellow students desire you.

You grimace at the last one. You make a mental note to buy a more concealing uniform.

Finally, you have your fame. This one should be normal, right? You’ve only just gotten here.

Sex: Unknown Prostitution: Unknown Rape: Obscure. Beastiality: Unknown Exhibitionism: Unknown Pregnancy: Unknown Combat: Obscure Kindness: Obscure Business: Unknown Socialite: Unknown Overall: Famous

What?! Famous?! How does that— Ugh, forget it. You keep reading.

The townsfolk call you Darling. Those in the criminal underworld call you Darling.

…?

What…what does that mean?

—————————

Next>

[atlabeth]

time’s blur - ialwbty au

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader but this primarily features percy jackson & sister!reader

summary: somehow, someway, you come back.

a/n: wow it has been a while hasn't it!! 148 days to be exact!! im always thinking about these two in the corner of my mind and ive been wanting to write this au since i got an ask about it, originally i was going to do it all as a big long one shot but i just want to get something out lol. and this will give me more freedom to do wte i want with this au instead of just having one big one shot and leaving it. anyways enjoy there is actually some fluff for once but still some emotional damage and there is more to come!! also reader is 19 and percy is 15

wc: 3.5k

warning(s): hurricane dies but she has come back!! told through percy's pov. angst, hurt/comfort, signature percy jackson guilt, but some fluffy sibling moments<3

Percy doesn’t end up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning out of instinct, foresight, or any kind of divine ‘chosen one’ intervention. 

He ends up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning because some Apollo kid was hooking up with an Ares kid on the beach, and they found you. 

They found you, not Percy. He didn’t even have a clue until he woke up to Chiron in his cabin.

Percy had had his fair share of rude awakenings over the years, usually because of horrific demigod prophetic dreams, but the expression on Chiron’s face immediately alerted Percy that something was wrong, even through his groggy haze. 

“Chiron?” he rasps, and he sits up as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He has to make sure he’s not still dreaming. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, Percy,” he says. “But I need you to come with me.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is everyone okay? Is camp okay? Is there an invasion?” 

“Nothing so ghastly,” Chiron says. Though his tone is a bit lighter, it still doesn’t ease Percy’s concerns. “But it does concern you.” 

“Great,” Percy mumbles, and he pulls himself out of bed. Normally he would have the foresight to change, but a part of him is still worried that Christmas has come early and Kronos has already invaded the city. 

So he follows Chiron—with all the sneaking around he’s done since getting to camp, it’s strange to be out this late and not have to worry about being eaten alive—clad in flannel pajama pants, a Yankee’s tee, and Converse he didn’t get the chance to fully lace up. 

“You’d tell me if something was wrong,” Percy says, glancing up at him. “Right?” 

“Of course,” he nods. “I wouldn’t classify this as something going wrong. Just… rather shocking.” 

“Great,” he repeats. “Are you going to tell me?” 

Chiron is silent for a moment, and Percy frowns. “Now I’m really worried.” 

“I suppose it’s best to rip the bandage off,” Chiron says. He stops right outside the Big House and lets out a sigh. “An hour ago, a girl was found on the beach. She looked as if she’d been washed ashore.” 

Percy’s frown deepens. “What? Gods— is she okay?” 

“Yes,” Chiron says. “I checked her over for injuries, but she only had some minor bruises. No water in her lungs, somehow.” 

“That’s crazy,” he says. “How could someone even wash up here? Even with demigods— don’t we have protections against that?” 

“All of this makes me believe there was some… divine intervention,” Chiron says slowly. “Especially with who she is.” 

Percy crosses his arms. “You’re making this sound like a huge deal. Who is she?”

“Percy,” Chiron says, soft but firm, “it’s your sister. Somehow, she’s come back to life.” 

And for a second, all he can do is stare. 

“What?” 

“I could never forget her face,” he says. “Or the presence of a child of Poseidon.” 

Percy shakes his head. “No, Chiron— if this is a joke, it’s not funny.” He huffs a mirthless laugh and looks down at his hands. “And if this is a shitty dream, then it’s really shitty.” 

“Perseus, this is real,” he states. 

He’s still shaking his head. “How can it be real? She’s dead— she’s been dead for years.”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Mr. D has already gone back to Olympus to figure it out. But if I had to guess, your father decided to meddle.”

He wants to call it a lie. Honestly, he wants to punch Chiron for getting his hopes up about something like this. But deep down, Percy knows he’s telling the truth. 

“Can I see her?” he asks. “Is— is she okay? Does she know who she is?”

“In time,” Chiron says. “I cannot be sure, but it doesn’t look like she remembers anything from her life.” 

Percy shakes his head again. It doesn’t feel real. He’s imagined what it would feel like to meet you since the moment Luke told him about you, but he knew it could never happen. 

But now, all that stands between Percy and his sister is a few doors. 

“I want to see her,” he says.

“Of course,” Chiron nods. “I just need to make sure it won’t mess with her further. This isn’t like Thalia coming back with the fleece—though I have suspicions, I can’t be sure how this happened. It could be a very delicate matter.” 

“As long as it doesn’t hurt her more.” 

Chiron nods again and he opens the door to the Big House. He follows him up to his office door, then stops when Chiron gestures at the couch. 

“I just need to discuss a few more things with her.” 

Percy nods wordlessly and sits down, then Chiron disappears into his office. 

A million things are running through Percy’s mind, namely guilt. 

Shouldn’t he have been the one to find you? 

Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but it’s you. 

You’re his sister. He’s always had a connection to you, even when you were gone—gods, the night after he found out you existed you appeared in his dreams. Percy’s spent almost every moment since he found out about you wishing you were still here, that he could meet you, and when it finally does happen—somehow, because he still doesn’t understand what the fuck went on for this to happen—he’s not even the one to find you? He’s just asleep like every other night?

He huffs a sigh as he hunches over, his forearms on his knees. His leg bounces up and down at a rapid pace, moving his entire body with it, but this is one time he can’t lay his ADHD to rest. He’s more surprised he isn’t up pacing the entire room for the hundredth time. 

If Percy feels like this, he can’t even imagine how you must feel. To come back for seemingly no reason with no memories, after four years in Elysium. 

Luke said you’d been killed by a monster. You were buried like any other person. 

You were gone.

But you just… came back.  

He lets out another harried sigh and falls back against the couch. He’s exhausted, but there’s no chance of him being able to go back to sleep. Not with you around. 

Suddenly, the door opens, and Percy instantly darts up from his seat. You walk out with Chiron and it’s almost surreal.

You look like all the pictures, all his dreams, just older���more mature. He wants to cry and scream and hug you all at once. 

Your eyes widen slightly, and you glance at Chiron for a moment before you focus back on Percy.

“Uh— sorry,” he says, wincing a bit. He doesn’t know how to act around you, not when he knows you but you don’t know him. “I waited for you. I thought it would be good to have someone on the other side.” 

“That’s really nice,” you murmur. “I… I see why. Word on the street is that you’re my brother.” 

Percy nods way too many times. “Yeah. Uh— yeah. We’re both children of—” 

He pauses, his gaze moving past you to Chiron. He has to have explained all this to you, right? 

“Poseidon,” you finish, and you let out a slightly shaky laugh. “Chiron laid out all the basics.” 

“This has all got to be really confusing,” he says. “I remember how lost I was when I first got to camp, and I didn’t even…” 

“Die?” you ask wryly. He nods again. He really can’t finish any sentence around you—he’s so worried of saying the wrong thing and accidentally hurting you. Percy doesn’t know how any of this works.

“It’s strange,” you admit. “I… I lived this whole life before this, and I don’t even remember any of it.”

Percy’s heart clenches painfully. He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain everything to you when you start remembering. 

When you start remembering Luke. 

“Really?” he asks. “There’s nothing?”

You shake your head. “I have my name, but that’s all. And…”

Percy frowns. “What?”

You pause for a moment before you shake your head again. “Nothing. This is just…”

“Weird?” 

You nod with a slight laugh. “Yeah. To say the least.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the first person to come back to life,” Percy says. “Uh, a girl named Thalia used to be a tree before she was turned back into a human.”

You frown. “Wow.”

“We can get to all of that some other day,” Chiron thankfully interrupts. “Percy, will you take her back to your cabin?”

“You’re sure we won’t get eaten by the harpies?” Percy asks. “Aello is out for my blood.”

“I promise,” Chiron says. He glances at you, your frown noticeably deeper, and he looks back at Percy. “Perhaps we should, ah, hold off on this sort of discussion. Until tomorrow, at least.”

“Of course,” Percy says. “Sorry. You must be exhausted.” 

“A little,” you admit. “Apparently coming back to life takes it out of you.” 

“Come back here first thing in the morning,” Chiron says. “We have… quite a bit to talk about.” 

“That’s an understatement,” you murmur. 

Percy smiles a bit, and he gestures with his head for you to follow him. You do, and Chiron goes back into his office. He nabs a bag of ambrosia squares from an empty bedside as the two of you go through the infirmary just to be safe, and when he glances back at you he sees you frowning. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Does anything hurt?” 

“You’re a Yankees fan?” you say instead. 

Percy blinks, then he realizes you’re looking at his shirt. “Uh— yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m from New York, and my mom loves them, so…” he tugs at his shirt. “I know you like the Red Sox. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “We can’t all be perfect.” 

Percy can’t help but smile. You died and came back to life, and you remember nothing but your name and your love for the Boston Red Sox. 

“That means you keep up with baseball, right?” 

“When I can,” he says. “We don’t really have technology out here.” 

“Have the Red Sox won a world series since I’ve been gone?” 

“They won last year, actually.”

Your eyes widen and you instantly grin. “Really?”

He nods. “They beat the Cardinals.”

“That— that’s huge!” you exclaim. “Oh my god, they broke the curse and I didn’t get to see it? This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“You know you died, right?”

“And look how well that worked out for me.” You shake your head. “I need to go to the library or something and find some footage.”

“As much as I would love to do that,” Percy says, “we have a few other things we have to focus on.”

You huff and shake your head. “Fine. But as soon as we figure all this out, I’m figuring out some way to see those games.” 

Percy chuckles. “I don’t think anyone’ll deny you that.” 

“Good.” 

Silence settles over the two of you as you walk back to the Poseidon cabin, and Percy just feels awkward. 

He always thought about what he would say to you if he finally got to see you again, and now you’re alive somehow and right next to him and he has no idea what to do. 

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Percy finally decides on. “Chiron said you just washed up on shore.” 

“I feel surprisingly okay,” you say. “All I remember is waking up at the bottom of the lake. I thought I was going to drown, so I kicked my way up, and then got to shore.” You shake your head. “Somehow, I didn’t drown. My clothes weren’t even wet. I’ve got to be the luckiest person out there.” 

“You’re a child of Poseidon,” he says. “We can’t breathe underwater so we can’t drown, and our clothes don’t get wet unless we want them to.” 

“Like I said,” you incline your head, “luckiest person out there.” 

“I just don’t get why you’re back,” Percy says. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are. I just don’t understand how, or why— or why now.” 

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re not able to get any words out before a yawn interrupts it. 

“Maybe that’s a tomorrow problem,” you say. 

“I think you’re right,” Percy says. He opens the door to the camp store and you follow him inside, but you frown. 

“What is this?” 

“The camp store,” he says. “You don’t really have anything, so I wanted to get you some things.” 

You just stare as he starts taking things. “You’re just… stealing?” 

“Just a couple toiletries and some clothing,” he says. “They won’t miss it.” He stashes it all in a Camp Halfblood tote bag and holds it out to you, and though you’re a bit hesitant, you still take it. 

“Thanks,” you say. “We won’t get in trouble?” 

“I think everyone will cut you some slack for a while,” Percy says. “A guy did this for me my first day and it helps—makes you feel more at home.” 

You hum, and this time you open the door for Percy. “Nice guy.” 

Percy swallows the sudden lump in his throat, trying to ignore the chill that trickles down his spine as he realizes the implications of his words. 

“Yeah,” Percy mutters. “He was.” 

Eventually, the two of you get back to the Poseidon cabin. He opens the door for you and you slowly walk inside. 

Again, it’s strange that you’re here. It’s like if a piece of his history textbook suddenly came to life and started walking around—he’s heard so much about you, imagined what he thought would be an impossible meeting so many times, but now that it’s actually happening he doesn’t know what to do. 

And it hits even more as you walk over to a picture of yourself hanging on the wall, surrounded by a myriad of others. 

It’s one of many of you and Luke, him holding you close with an arm slung around your shoulder as you beam at the camera with the brightest smile imaginable. Before Luke got his scar, before you died, before he went off the deep end. 

“I put a couple of your pictures up,” Percy rushes to explain, his throat feeling scratchy, “and a few of your old things. As— as a way to remember you.”

“I love it,” you say, and the tension dissolves in his shoulders when he sees your smile. It really is so much brighter in person. “I— I can’t believe I don’t remember any of this.”

“We’ll figure out a way to get it back,” Percy says. “I promise.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say idly as you continue to take all the pictures in. He can’t imagine what it must feel like to see all these memories of a past life you have no recollection of. 

“I don’t,” he says. “We’re gonna figure it out.”

You’re silent for a while as you keep looking at them. Then you take one of the pictures off the wall, the one of you and Luke at a baseball game. 

“Luke,” you murmur, as if you don’t realize you’re saying it out loud. You blink, then you turn to Percy. “His name is Luke, isn’t it?”

He nods, almost in disbelief. You don’t remember a damn thing about your old life but you know Luke’s name.

How is Percy supposed to tell you what he did? 

You laugh softly as you trail your nail over the edge. “We must’ve been pretty close if I got him to go to a Red Sox game.” You look over at Percy. “Does he go here too?”

After a moment, Percy shakes his head. “He— uh, he used to.”

“Makes sense,” you murmur, and you put the picture back on the wall. “I got the easy way out. Everyone else had to deal with the fallout.”

Percy frowns. “You were killed by a monster. I don’t think anyone considers that the easy way out.” 

“It kinda was,” you say with a shrug. “I— I don’t remember much about it, but Chiron said I was in Elysium. There aren’t any monsters down there, and there certainly aren’t any responsibilities.”

“Well,” Percy sits down on his bed, “I’m glad you’re here. You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined meeting you.” 

You chuckle. “I didn’t know I was so popular.” 

“I’m serious,” he says. “Poseidon is one of the Big Three, and they made an oath not to have kids. I was the only Big Three kid in general when I got to camp—when I found out about you, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to have a sister to talk about all of this with.” 

Your eyes soften, and you lean against his bed frame. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry about?” 

“I— I don’t know,” you say with a slight laugh. “I just feel bad that I couldn’t be there for you.” 

“You’re already doing a pretty good job at being a big sister,” Percy says wryly. 

“Thanks,” you say. “You’re doing a pretty good job at being a younger brother.” 

Percy laughs and smiles, and you smile too. He’s beginning to understand what Luke always said, about your presence embodying warmth. He’s only been around you for a few minutes and he already feels better. 

“I’ve never had a brother before this,” you say. “So there might be a couple speed bumps.” 

“We’ll get through them together,” Percy says. “Besides, I… I kind of always considered you my sister. Ever since I found out about you, even though you were…” 

“Dead?” you guess, and he winces. You chuckle a bit. “It’s still weird for me, too. Can’t imagine what it must be like for all of you.” 

“Weird,” he says without really thinking. “Really weird. But I’m thankful that you’re back.” 

You smile. “So am I, Percy.” 

You let out another yawn, and you sit down on the bed across from him. “God, what time is it?” 

Percy glances at the clock in the corner. “3:34.” 

You whistle. “I really chose a great time to come back, huh?” 

He chuckles, and he kicks off his shoes as gets up to turn the lights off. “I think some sleep would do us both some good.” 

You nod and do the same. As you lay back, one hand behind your head, you continue to look around the cabin. 

“Are these your band posters?” 

He shakes his head as he sits back down. “They’re yours, actually, but you’ve got good taste. I love Pearl Jam.” 

“I used to have good taste, you mean,” you say wryly. 

“Hey,” he says. “I meant what I told you. We’re gonna get your memories back.” 

“How are you so sure?” 

“I’ve done a lot of impossible things,” Percy says. “And so have you, from what I’ve heard. It’s kind of the Poseidon kid way, honestly.” 

“You’ll have to teach me some things, then.” 

“And when you get your memory back, you’ll have to do the same,” he says. 

You smile and nod. “Deal.” 

Percy smiles too, and he lays down. “You really should try and get some sleep. Chiron wasn’t joking when he said we have a lot to talk about.” He huffs a slight laugh. “Whatever the reason is for you coming back, I guarantee there’s gonna be some people upstairs that are mad about it.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “Upstairs?” 

“Olympus,” he says. “The gods don’t really like things happening out of their control.” 

You hum, and for a moment there’s nothing but silence and the sound of both your breathing. It’s a little strange having someone else here other than Tyson, but he’s thankful for it. 

“What’s gonna happen to me?” you ask. There’s an edge of fear in your voice, and Percy frowns. 

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“Nothing is going to happen,” he repeats. “I’m not going to let anything happen. The gods have already messed with your life enough—they don’t get to do it again.” 

Percy half-expects to hear the sound of thunder echoing across camp, but the silence continues. Maybe Zeus isn’t listening in on him for once, or maybe he just expects the disrespect at this point. 

“I really am the luckiest person,” you say. “I’ve got someone like you looking out for me.” 

“You were looking out for me when you were gone,” he says. “You might not remember, but I could feel it. So I’m just repaying the favor.” 

Again, silence. It’s temporarily interrupted by the sound of sheets shifting, then you speak. 

“I’m really glad I got to meet you, Percy,” you murmur. 

He can’t help but smile, and he tries to ignore the tears beginning to spring in his eyes. He has no idea why you’re back—no idea what this could mean. Maybe your dad did bring you back, maybe it’s a bizarre case like Thalia, maybe you play a part in something that they don’t even know about yet and it's nothing but bad news.

But for once in his life, Percy’s not going to question it. 

You’re alive and you’re here. 

For now, that’s all he needs. 

“Me too,” he whispers.

[fortunapre]

𝐀/𝐍𖧞 this is the last part. I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW: “dont stop! your writing is god-tier!“ i heard you all chant in unison.

Dont fret little ones. 🖐️🙂‍↕️ Ive surely got some more ideas in the bank...If you haven’t, go check out my prompts list <3

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𖧞 16+ (entire fic rating), swearing, mention of alcohol, mention of intoxication, a little bit o’ mischief…not really but you’ll see ;)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𖧞 oscar piastri x fem!reader

Go back?? (Scene vi) Click Here!

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𖧞 Scene VII 𖧞 (𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞)

be honest im 𝒻ℯℯ𝒹𝒿𝓃𝑔 yall

December 17th, the same night

We both walked into the room in silence.

The only noise was the shutting of the door and a barely audible “Santa Baby,” playing from the other room. Instead of looking at Oscar, I surveyed the room.

Unlike the front room, there were no Christmas decorations. It was a plain bedroom, a guy’s bedroom by the looks of it, with only a small desk and a bed. I tried to distract my gaze from the man in front of me, but the tension was growing too thick.

I reluctantly looked away from the uninteresting room and focused on him. He was no longer facing away from me- he was leaning back on the desk, hands gripping the desk on each side of his body. No matter how relaxed he seemed to be trying to look, I could see how rigid he really was.

He was looking at me, no smirk present. With how serious he looked, I thought to myself about how I kind of miss his ever-lasting grin.

He let out a deep sigh and moved to fold his arms, his body still leaning back against the desk.

I watched as he slightly turned one of his folded arms, looking at his wrist. I assume he was looking for his watch, but forgotten he’d given it up to the festive host earlier. He sighed again and looked away.

I only kept looking his way. I was blatantly staring, but what else was I supposed to do. I was hoping to get him to look at me.

My staring worked, as he probably felt my burning gaze. He looked up, brown eyes meeting mine.

“I’m guessing there’s still about six minutes left,” He finally broke the silence, and told me.

“Yeah…” I had no idea what to say. Did he want to get out of here? Or rather, did he want to get out of a locked room with only me? “..probably.” I added.

“This is stupid.” I heard Oscar mutter. I'm not sure if I meant to hear him, but I felt kind of sad at his words.

“7 minutes in heaven is always stupid. I’ve always tried to stay out of party games.” I told him, trying to save myself from feeling embarrassed. While we were sitting in a circle, and as I waited turn after turn, I dreaded when I’d be chosen. I dreaded being chosen, because I was secretly hoping the person to choose me was Oscar. And now that I’d gotten my wish, he didn’t even want me here.

He saw my reaction and acted quickly. “No, that’s not…” his words trailed off. I waited for him to finish his sentence, slightly confused. “Not the game,” he added. “That's not what I’m talking about.”

“What then? Being stuck with me?” I didn't mean to say what I was worrying about outloud, but I continued anyway “Trust me mate, I don’t want to be here anymore than you do.” I lied through my teeth. I definitely sounded defensive.

He scoffed and I saw him poke his tongue in his cheek. “Y’know what?” Oscar spoke and he sounded deeper and sharper. Apparently what I said riled him up. “Maybe If you’d let me speak, I’d tell you. Don’t start saying shit just to start something.”

I’d almost flinched at his tone and curse.

“Ok.” His anger only fueled mine. I unfolded my arms and put a hand on my hip, trying to look as unfazed as possible by his presence. “Enlighten me.”

“First of all, why would you think I wouldn’t want to be near you? Did me kissing you not once, but twice, not mean anything?” His voice was raising, but he didn’t look angry so to speak. I scrunched my eyebrows at his omission. “Don’t answer that. I don’t care, actually.” He suddenly added, catching me off guard.

It was my turn to scoff. God, and he accuses me of being an instigator. “Asshole! Of Course it meant something, it takes two to go as far as we did, you know.”

The argument held confession-notes in between the lines, but any affection or truth was smothered by our matching anger. Neither of us were understanding the words that came out of our mouths, and instead becoming more riled up by the yelling. Which, we were definitely yelling now.

“Don’t lie and try to make me feel better, Y/N. You were probably just filled with adrenaline.”

“Do. Not. Tell me how I feel. I know what I'm doing, I knew what I was doing just fine both times.”

“Really?” He had a monotone accusing tone, trying to find a lie. He seemed to be unimpressed with anything I said now.

“Yeah. Really.”

I hadn’t realized how fast my heart was beating now. I tried to slow my breathing and be the level-headed one because his head was definitely not thinking straight. Apparently he had nothing else to say, but neither had I. This argument was stupid and we both knew it.

We both stayed silent and slunk against something behind us, not daring to look at eachother.

Then, I heard him speak again and prepared an eye-roll.

“Now, what I was saying was…” Oscar started still not looking at me. “Was that I meant that I’m what's stupid.”

“That’s an understate-”

“Don’t.” He stopped me. “Don’t try to be snarky, Y/n. Let me speak.”

I just looked at him then raised my eyebrows and moved my head in a ‘Well, speak!’ motion.

Despite my attitude, he stayed calmer than before and took a deep breath. “Do you remember Christmas, two years ago?”

That same question.

What was so important two years ago? “You already asked me this…”

“Just. Yes or No? Do you remember?” He seemed suddenly on edge.

“I mean, I remember it, yeah, but are you talking about, like, a specific thing that happened? I don’t understand…” I spoke, trying to convey my confusion. He looked stern, and intent on hearing everything I had to say.

“Yeah,” he clarified. “I, um, I’m talking specifically about that night. Christmas night.”

My mind whirled as I tried desperately to pick out an obvious memory, but nothing was coming to mind.

That Christmas was the year my brother and sister didn’t come.

That Christmas was the year I was gifted the worst sweater by my mom.

That Christmas I stayed up practically all night.

I remember staying up all night, because the next morning, my mom forced me to go into town with her. I remember vividly how sluggish I’d been the whole time. But… that’s all….

Suddenly, I remembered something.

The thought of staying up triggered another thought: that night, I remember sitting on the sofa, watching a movie, when someone scared the shit out of me.

I had been peacefully wrapped in my blanket at around 4 am, when someone barreled through the door.

Oscar.

It was Oscar that scared me. I hadn’t been expecting anyone, especially Oscar since I didn’t even know he’d been out.

Two years ago, we didn’t ever talk to each other except to tease, so it’s no surprise he didn’t bother to tell me he was going somewhere.

When he came in, I was confused. My confusion grew as I’d taken in his appearance. His eyes were barely open, and his focus was darting all around the room. When his eyes met mine, his eyes opened and his body suddenly stopped. Full stop. He planted his feet and stared at me. His jaw was slack and his cheeks, from what I could tell in the little light from the kitchen behind me, was pinker than normal.

He was drunk. Oscar had come home drunk that night and had seen me when he walked through the door.

At the time, I remember laughing at him and turning back to my movie to ignore him.

But that’s not where the altercation ended– drunk Oscar had said something.

I remembered Oscar stopping, looking at me, and then he showed the broadest smile (one I'm sure would never have been directed towards me, had he been sober). Then, he sauntered closer to the sofa, out of the doorway and in front of my view of the television.

“Oscar…” I groaned. “Just go to bed, mate, your wasted.”

He stayed in place, restricting my vision and looking at me. Actually, he was staring at me. Actually he was staring all over me.

That night, I was wearing my short PJ shorts, and a Star Wars t-shirt. Nothing special, but it definitely caught drunk-oscar’s attention.

“Hello?” I tried again, but he was unrelenting.

“What?” was all he answered with.

“Get out of my way, that’s what.” I snapped, just trying to watch Princess Diaries.

He looked behind him to the screen and a grimace filled his whole face. Usually Oscar’s expressions consisted of mad and smirky-jerk, but when he was drunk, tons of emotions flashed on and off his face.

“That’s shit.” He must have been referring to the movie. His voice was groggy and deep, probably tired after what seemed like an exciting night.

“Whatever.” I gave up with the television and just wanted him to leave. “Just go to your room before someone else catches a visual of your post-party debauchery.”

“Dirty girllll,” he said slowly, borderline slurring. “Stop thinking about my de-whatever.” I quirked an eyebrow and shook my head at him. He seemed so incredibly out of it. I should totally hold this over him. Where’s my phone? I should totally film this.

I gave up looking for my phone, and looked back at oscar. Still standing there.

“Wait, what? I wasn’t at a party…” Oscar spoke, referring to my earlier statement of his “post-party” inebriation- an incredibly late reaction.

“Okayyyy…?” I said slowly. “Then what’s,” I motioned to all of him, “this?”

“Nothing.” He said rather quickly. Then his tempo changed as he looked down, almost shy. “None of your business, alright?” I nodded, but he kept speaking. “Actually, this has nothing to do with,” He copied my motion with a serious amount of sass and gestured to all of me, “…you. Ok?”

“Yeah, alright.” I was over this. He’s obviously completely drunk.

“I'm serious! Don’t accuse me of getting drunk because of my feelings, ok? Don’t even think about it. Why would I care about you… let along get drunk over fucking childhood crush on you? That’s ridiculous, and entirely possible— That’s not the point!”

Wait.

Back to the present- I now know why Oscar’s worried about that night.

Oscar must not have been that plastered if he now remembers what he said. Or rather, what he confessed. At the time I ignored his rambling and walked him to his room, away from me.

Now, I’m not sure all of that was just drunk-rambling.

Oscar was watching me figure everything out, watching me realize what he was so afraid of.

“I remember you rambling about having a… but there’s no way.” I said out loud to him, voicing my spinning thoughts. He just kept looking at me. “Right?” My voice got softer as I took in what Oscar’s silence might mean. “But you hated me.”

“Y/N.” He spoke like I was stupid.

“What?” I fired back, getting defensive.

“I never hated you, think about it.” He was trying to make me realize it, but all of my memories of him are arguments– save the past week.

“I am thinking about it. You always picked on me and fought with me. You said the meanest things and I always fought back. We’ve never gotten along…” I tried to list.

Then, all of a sudden, a smirk formed on his face.

That same smirk I’d claimed I’ve been missing, now felt weirdly… intimate?

“Oscar, you…” I didn’t know what to say.

“Yeahh” Is all he replied with, smirking and telling me all I need to know with one look. He started to move closer to me.

Step by step, he slowly walked towards me like he was testing my reaction. I just let him come closer and closer until we were face to face. Pine and wintergreen filled my senses. Our eye contact never waivered.

“Y/n, I don’t mean to bring this all up now.” he gestured to the door. His smirk lessened in intensity as he tried to apologize.

I suddenly remembered we’re in the middle of a 7 minutes in heaven game. And that it’s definitely been longer than 7 minutes.

(My sister was the culprit of our unexpected extra time, having told them to leave us alone.)

I focused back on the man in front of me. The man who had practically just confessed to me that he had a childhood crush on me. A childhood crush that he claims has never left.

“This is stupid.” I copied his words form before.

“Oh?” Oscar almost recoiled, hurt flashing on his face.

“No! Not… Not you! Not this.” I reacted and grabbed at the front of his shirt, not wanting him to misunderstand me and turn away.

Both of our breathing hitched at the contact, and the proximity it brought.

“Ok, then what do you mean?” He said, softly. His eyes were trained on my lips. I opened my mouth and closed it again, not knowing how to say this.

“I mean I’m stupid. Im stupid for not realizing it sooner. Im stupid for being so harsh and rude and-” I started apoligizing as my emotions began rising.

“I was rude too.”

“Yeah, but you…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. His confession was still new. However, the more I thought about him— Oscar Piastri, my rival and hater in every way—my mind started to clarify.

“Yeah, I…” He couldn’t say it either it seems.

We both stood close, not fully saying what we meant out loud yet still fully understanding what each other meant and wanted.

Seconds passed by of us relishing the new emotions, my grip never leaving him. We practically shared air at how close we were and our eyes locked. I started to feel what could only be described as butterflies.

It washed over me and the idea hit me like a train: I wanted him too. Maybe more than he wants me.

At this revelation I tugged him to my level and brought my lips to his ear.

I didn’t want to waste anymore time arguing or lying to ourselves.

I took a short breath and then whispered, “let’s get out of here.”

Then in almost one motion he smiled, a devilishly handsome smirk, then he grabbed my hand and took us away from the party.

Away from prying eyes.

hehehehhehehe 🫵💋

OH? WHATS THAT?!?! YOU GOT HERE FIRST BECAUSE, gasp!, you’re on my taglist?!?!?

any other people i missed or new people that want to be tagged, COMMENT or MESSAGE ME!

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𖧞

@someinsanefangirl @iloveotters11 @chunkpiboli @marauders-wife @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @verstxppen33 @silverxxs-world @zupercoolgirl @forza-charles @il0vereadingstuff

my apologies if i couldn’t tag you but hopefully you got my messsge <3

[mylove-iv]

⠀𐔌 . ⋮ golden child, lion boy; tell me what it's like to conquer .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ʚ botw! link x fem! reader ɞ

synopsis: when the kingdom goes to war, the goddess's chosen Hero is desperate to keep you safe. in his attempts to give you everything, you gradually became nothing.

genres: angst, romance. | mentions an established relationship, set pre-calamity.

rating: mature, 18+ (mdni).

content warnings: unclear time skips,mild/implied sexual content, slight spoilers (slight canon divergence), (indirect) mentions of war.

reader specifications: reader was detailed to have curves and dips, was also implied that reader wears/uses a silk nightie, no pronouns were used but was written with a female reader in mind.

word count: 1.09k words.

―originally posted on @mydarling-iv, aug. 25, 2023

‎‧₊ part ii ─ masterlist .ᐟ ༘

Sleep does not come to Link that easily. Despite holding you in his arms as you slept, your warmth did not beckon his eyelids to fall. Instead, he gazes fondly at your sleeping face.

Link's heart soars as a smile tugs at his lips but soon falters as he feels fear creep in. The over-looming threat of the Calamity continuously draws near. Then, the view of you blurs as Link drowns himself in his thoughts.

He hesitates, questioning whether or not his decision is right, if the lack of your say in the matters is the correct thing to do. It feels wrong, a raw disgust filling his veins but his fear overpowers his rationality, rearing its ugly head that Link is forced to look at.

But as he stares into the eyes of the King of Hyrule, he is forced to come to terms that if he refuses the offer, you may be vulnerable to the incoming Calamity’s wrath. And so, Link deludes himself into believing that this is what is necessary to keep you out of harms way.

He’s snapped back into reality as you snuggle further into him, your warmth permeating through his skin and into his soul. Gradually, Link feels his fears melt away. It needs to be done, for no cost is too great to keep you safe. He thinks, hand gently cupping your sleeping face.

“You are dear to me, I don’t want to ever let you go nor would I ever give you up,” Link’s words are hushed—masked as a promise—only heard by the moon and stars above. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead as unshed tears glaze his eyes.

“I want to protect you, I want to guard you from the world that tries to so desperately dim your light—And by the stars, this I promise you for I love you too much.”

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

The move to Castle Town was much livelier than expected. Despite having to tear himself from you due to knightly duties, Link made an effort to always give you his time.

Laughter rings in your new, quaint home, smiles are pressed against each other, you both embrace each other when the moon rises and Link finds it hard to leave your serene hug but he must do what he is bound to and you continuously find yourself awaking to a cold bed.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

As the brightness of Spring quickly passes, Winter arrives, taking all the sweet liveliness of Spring with it, leaving the world—your world—cold and barren as a distance stretches itself between you and Link, your lover returning home more guarded and unreadable as time passes.

He is repeatedly sent on countless missions, tasked with being at the very forefront of wiping out monster and enemy camps. Your heart aches whenever he softly kisses you goodbye, and yet whenever he arrives home safely—alive—you find that the ache in your chest has never left in the first place.

You kiss him passionately, wanting to bruise him so that he wouldn’t be able to forget you. Though now much silent, Link shares the same sentiments as he worships your body, engraving marks reminding you of him into your soft skin that both reassures you and intensifies the longing in your heart.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

Time passes and Link steadily climbs the ranks, his time split between fighting at the frontlines and guarding Hyrule’s sole princess.

He’s given a noble title, land to go with it, and prestige. Yet, when you move into the estate he’s given, it doesn’t feel like home, instead it’s cold and barren, devoid of the love you and Link once filled your cozy apartment with.

Your lover dominates high society, titles falling at his feet whenever he’d come home victorious, yet why does it feel like you’ve lost him throughout his feats?

You no longer embrace each other before bed, his side of the bed remaining cold from dusk till dawn, nor does a boyish smile ever grace his face whenever you try to crack a joke, instead you’re only met with his furrowed brows and tired eyes. 

Despite how Link has become dismissive and cold, you hold him gently in your arms, bare skin against bare skin and only now do you see that he’s been cracked enough as it is, his heart more shattered than he lets on.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

He envelops you whole, skin feverish as Link’s lips are merciless, leaving no spot of your skin untouched—unmarked—and your heart swells as a small part of you mourns.

“I love you and I will love you as long as I am able to love.” Link whispers, his words soft compared to the blatant sin he commits.

Your eyes flutter to a close, your hand finding home in his hair before you gently tug at his roots, eliciting a satisfying groan from your lover.

“I want everything back, the way it was.” Your words are a breathy as you speak and Link has to resist the urge to capture your lips.

But before you’re able to continue, a quick knock interrupts, breaking the bubble you and your lover were in. “Captain, you are needed.” A man, who you suppose was your lover’s subordinate, stated.

Link’s eyes stay glued to you, committing every slope, dip, and curve of yours to memory. “Is it urgent?” Link mutters loud enough for the man to hear, his blue eyes dark as an ocean’s, and you think that this is how people drown.

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you go to grab your silken nightie, your body tensing as Link’s bare chest meets your back. He places soft kisses to your bare shoulder before he reaches the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“It’s Princess Zelda, sire, she was reported to be missing and seen on horseback heading to Gerudo.” The kisses on your shoulder ceases, an inaudible curse falling from Link’s lips and before you know it, your lover’s warmth is ripped from your back.

His clothes rustle, almost seeming to mock you and you feel your heart slowly sink again. Link gently cups your face, pivoting slightly so he’s able to see your face. Yet, you avoid his gaze.

Link places a delicate kiss to your forehead, silently promising that he’ll be back soon but yet, he becomes a blind eye to how your eyes dim.

The door shuts behind him and you’re left alone, feeling used and cold. “I want everything back, the way it was.” Tears run down your cheeks as his absence burns a deeper hole into your heart. “But there is no point to it, this wanting.”

© 2024 𝐌𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄-𝐈𝐕. do not copy, repost, share, or translate any of my works to tumblr, social media, and any other websites/platforms.

[kining-the-evil]

Darling, You’re The Luckiest Person In The Room

Summary: You and Johanna watch the announcement for the 75th Hunger Games

An: This was a Request, but it got deleted so i had to rewrite it

Warnings: Yandere!Johanna, reader has been kidnapped by Johanna, physical anger, emotional abuse, Alcohol drinking, fem!reader

Johanna had been antsy for the past week. She wasn’t an overly relaxed person as it was, but when it got close to the Games she got worse; and the Quarter Quell wasn’t helping. She was barely sleeping, Coming to bed late at night and being long gone when you woke up. When she left the house it was for short periods, and when she was home she was short with You. Given That She was the only person you saw, it got boring quick.

“It’s starting.” You called out from Where You were sitting on the couch. The broadcast showed Snow, already giving his bullshit speech on the Quarter Quell, how It’s a reminder of the rebellion and how the capital is strong and all of the other bullshit with it.

“Why should I care?” She had a cup of whiskey when she walked in, and despite her comment she sat down next to you. Normally, she would pull You to her side, keeping an arm tightly wrapped around you. But she didn’t today. Instead she left a few inches of space between you both.

“…and so, for this years Quarter Quell the tributes will be reaped from tue existing pool of victors for each district.”

Your eyes went wide at his words and Johanna’s body tensed. That couldn’t possibly be What He meant. The couch shifted lightly as she sat up next to you.

“Johanna-“ your words were cut off by the slight scream You let out when she threw her cup across the room.

“Mother fuckers!” She screamed while standing up. “How fucking dare They!” You just watched as she yelled, stomping around the room. She picked up a vase and threw it, making it shatter on impact.

“I win the game,” a vase is smashed. “I’m told they’ll leave me alone,” a chair is tipped over. “And They do something like this!” You jumped to your feet when she smashed a mirror.

“Johanna!” She finally stoped her pacing to Look at You. “Just…Take a breath-“

“I swear to god y/n, if you tell me to calm down I will break your fucking neck.” You fully believe her threat, immediately closing Your mouth.

She paced for another few minutes, mumbling to herself angrily. You were too afraid to move, not wanting her anger to be directed at you.

“Do you know how lucky you are?” She had walked towards you, looking stray at you.

“Lucky?”

“Ya, Lucky. I risk My Damn life to keep You Here-“

“I Never asked you too.” You pointed out to her. Her Hand shot up to grip your chin in her hand. Her nails dug into your face lightly, making you let out a small yelp.

“If i didnt, Snow would have killed you. I give you the best food from the capital, You don’t Ive to work, You live in fucking luxury! So ya, you are lucky.” As she talked, a bit of spit Shot into your face causing you to flinch. Her eyes were Nothing But anger, And for a Moment you wondered if you’d finally pushed her to far. But she just pushed you away lightly.

“And remember, if they choose me, who’s going to come back here for you?”

—————

Your eyes were glued to the monitor in front of you. Johanna had left earlier that morning, leaving you completely alone in the house. The first tributes were being picked, and it had finally gotten to distract 7.

“For the women…Johanna Mason!”

“No…” A single tear ran down your cheek as You Tried to proses The information. There We’re other victors, What We’re the chances She would Be chosen?

“No,” you mumbled agin, This time standing up. You ran to the front door, trying to pull it Open. It was locked.

The back door? Locked.

The windows? Every single one locked and covered.

Everyone knew what happened after being chosen. A short goodbye to any family, and immediately boarding the train. Johanna would be gone, and no one would knew you were here. The odds were not in her favor, and apparently they hated You Even more. She was going to die in the Games, And You would die alone im the damed House.

You spent the rest of the day going through the house, seeing what you could find. Johanna must have woken up early and restocked food for you. There weren’t any weapons in the building that could help you, nothing to get you out of the house. Did she really think you’d survive being locked in the house like This?

You grabbed a bottle of alcohol and started towards the living room when something banged on the front door. You froze, unsure of what to do. You couldn’t actually Open the door, so If They wanted in they’d have to break tue door down. But That was the next question, who was it? No one came near the Victor houses, and all the other victors were on their way to the capital.

You started to open your mouth, but quickly shut it. What would you say? You didn’t have long to think of an answer because there was a large crash sound from the door, and the door practically collapsed. You jumped back when 5 peacemakers stormed their way in.

“What’s happening?!” They didn’t answer you, but two of them went to your sides and they each yanked an arm back to lock together.

“Are You y/n y/l/n?” You nodded at the one who spoke, and he smirked lightly. “Well, congratulations. You Get to See What the capital looks like.” He motioned for the men to leave, and they dragged you along with them. From one captor to another.

[batsplat]

omgg i started following you because i loved your motogp posts and i did not expect to get emotionally attacked about my tennis fave like this. you've lit expressed everything ive felt abt tennis lately like daniil's return game has developed so well these last few years if only his shoulders were still functional he wld be soo unstoppable (i remember like last 2 year-ish when his serve suddenly went to shit and i was like wtf is going on?? but then it turned out his shoulders don' work anymore😭😭😭) ngl i did not expect him to make it to the ao finals this yr at all but then he did and i started getting hope again and then well uk what happened next... (i actually went to bed when he was up 2 sets because i alrdy had premonitions for what was abt to happen and i didnt need that experience twice 😭) anyways i finally quit watching the men's tour reguarly middle of this yr-ish because mostly because my biggest opp started winning big tournanments/slams consistently and i cld not take it anymore (part of why i got into motogp ig, i needed a new thing to fill in the hole)

also ur thing being having to be the chosen one in men's tennis is soo true but i wld argue it cld even be broadened down to being in the chosen generation... every 90s born player doomed to be seen as the weak links of the sport, both forever destined to be surpassed by those who came before and those who came after...

anyways mostly i also just wanted to thank you for writing all your super information motogp posts!! not only is ur writing style super informative/consistent, all the topics u've written abt feel super unique like i doubt i wld ever randomly stumble elsewhere. i'm not that good w/ words so idk how to fully express my appreciation, but your posts are the main reason i started delving into more past motogp races and interviews instead of just sticking to current ones which has 1000% made my experience of becoming a motogp fan more enjoyable!

🥺🥺 such a nice ask from a fellow sufferer... I actually tried to sleep in for the ao final and managed for like. maybe a set. it's so funny to have a whole fanbase quite literally begging their player not to go up two sets to love, zero hindsight needed I was HORRIFIED by that second set going his way... especially since I noticed the balance of play in the actual games had changed and meddy wasn't winning any return points anymore, just relying on an earlier break to seal that set iirc. and then I started going for increasingly desperate tactics to distract myself when the inevitable happened in the next three sets (including rewatching marc marquez: all in, it was rough man, like I get what you're saying about getting into motogp to escape because generally I too have fled to this sport whenever tennis has most been pissing me off)

and obviously that final was very trauma flashbacks to my definitive sports trauma, a match I'm STILL not over and at this rate have accepted I'll be miserable about until the day I die. but this time I couldn't even BLAME him because it was an insane effort to even get to the final, he'd done such a fantastic job given his tennis really wasn't there at the start of the tournament, he just kept figuring out ways to win... the hurkacz match where he basically ran out of fuel in the fourth, that crazy semifinal where he just refused to know when he was beaten, and then taking two sets off sinner in that final!! the resilience and the grit but also the tactical acumen, like my god when he blindsided hurkacz by radically altering his return position RIGHT AFTER doing that post-match back-and-forth with courier where he explained in detail why he favoured his regular return position. the cleverness and the bravery he showed in clutch points in that semi, something that zverev is completely incapable of (monte carlo 2023 still lives rent free lol), like the psychology of that match slapped. how he took it so sinner, completely caught him off guard by mixing up his game, and it was WORKING. really managed to change the dynamic of that match up... he lost that match first and foremost in his legs. just so cruel after everything. we had the guy who easily disposed of an admittedly rubbish djokovic in the semis on the ropes. and it still. was. not. fucking. enough. one of the best slam final runs in recent memory and it still wasn't enough!! he's already far outperformed what he SHOULD have been capable of in his career and somehow he keeps developing a game style which should have plateaued ages ago and I have so much respect for the work him and gilles have done post-2022... and he really should have more to show for it

anyway yeah I remember the serve decline in 2022, back when I was really in the weeds with analysing meddy's game. and that was also the year it felt like his legs completely deserted him. his deciding set record that year was horrific after ao, very rarely even got it that far win or lose and when he did so almost always lost (karatsev was cramping, let's not talk about the other third set win)

scorelines from the tour finals genuine miracle i did not throw myself into the sea

only one four set match post-ao and he also lost that, incidentally. and obviously that was partly because his brain was fucked, BUT I also wondered whether it was the aftereffects of the hernia operation that year affecting both the physicality and the serve. and I can't remember if he confirmed that anywhere but the theory's certainly cottoned on to help explain the serve decline, even if his endurance obviously has massively improved again. and then add in the shoulder... it's so brutal because it used to be such a key pillar to his game, like the whole magic was tied together by being able to whizz through his own service games while making his opponent's return games hellish

and like,, the thing I really admire about him is that there was a period in 2022 where it did feel like he'd been 'figured out', like there was increasingly a game plan that could be used against him. serve and volley, etc etc. but to some extent, he's managed to resist just being written off when facing elite competition BECAUSE he keeps coming up with ways to throw his opponents off-balance. what he's been doing this year, for all that it hasn't gotten him great results, has been so much fun to watch - really reminded me of his summer/autumn 2019 stretch where he'd played so much he should've constantly been at risk of keeling over of exhaustion but adapted to it by just becoming a completely different player. wawrinka uso 2019 match still goes crazyyyy, one of his most underrated performances. serve and volley in the uso 2019 final I wanna run to u. it's such a wonderfully unique game that's frankensteining all these unique parts together that all sort of shouldn't work but all sort of do, harnessed and constantly reinvented by (let's face it) the smartest top player currently in the game. and it really does piss me off that he hasn't been rewarded more. he's been the best of the rest since 2019, he's absolutely maximised his game for someone who doesn't have that stratospheric big three-level of talent and I WANT it to actually matter. but men's tennis will always see talent triumphing over guile I fear, and meddy has consistently been a victim of poor timing

and yeah, the generational aspect is true, where the entire ''''''''nextgen''''''''' cohort has essentially been doomed - partly because they just weren't good enough, but partly because they arrived at just the right time window to still be thoroughly traumatised by the big three without getting any kind of a break before the next super talents showed up. until 2022 I really did naively believe we were getting a chaos era of SOME kind until that decrepit spanish ghoul showed up in australia to trample all over my soul and give me depression, and then immediately another bloody spaniard started going at it. how can you not be a little bit bitter that alcaraz got to swan to his first slam title without having to face a single member of the big three? idk man like sometimes it really is the magic of sports that the anointed few don't just have talent on their side, they are also fantastically lucky. you see it with how the big three all secured their first slams... things just seem to work out somehow. infuriating and existentially horrifying

anyway. lol. as you can see I do always have a tennis rant in me. will always be a major part of my life, obviously something I have a far far better understanding of than any other sport, still keep up with the women's game fairly closely... where icl it helps that the players I'm most invested in have dropped off SO badly this year, partly due to injury, that I can merrily ignore their existence. plus, and this bit is crucial, I don't loathe the players who actually win things. so I'm in a happy place where I just enjoy the sport and (if anything) want Certain top players to do better than they currently are... but also don't lose any sleep over the results. like, have I been massively frustrated with iga this year? yes, but it's also not made me stare at a wall for five hours. also, it's just been a way better product than this predictable basher servebot shit from the men. women's wimbledon semi day THE best tennis day of the year, prove me wrong. they've had actual classic matches, which the men have been noticeably short on. just sort of been an odd season for the men, with djokovic shrivelling and alcaraz patchy outside of two slams and sinner doing his whole 'I'm not a cardboard cut out I'm a REAL boy' routine on his way to fifty hard court titles and everyone else irrelevant. as I've already said... it's fine. whatever. hope the sport enjoys fifty thousand alcaraz/sinner slam wins as the earth keeps turning around the sun and eventually we all turn to dust. it's fine

and seriously, thank you for everything in the ask... always happy to hear I've made someone's fan experience like. better. and that I add something a little bit different to the mix lol, also literally no compliment I like to read more than anything to do with my actual writing. because this ask was so lovely, here's my personal favourite moment as a tennis fan this year:

still think that australian open title should be restored to us

[slowlydifferentbluebird]

Can I request Seola and Bona get jealous when they see their fem bodyguard help other idols. Thanks!

So, two things about these request. First: I love me some WJSN girls, they are too much underrated and I love them, so thank you for requesting them🥰 Second: you didn't specify what genre you wanted, so I'm going fluff because it's kinda late here and I'm in mood for soft hours lol...but if you wanted some smut, you can always ask me for a sequel🤭

WJSN Bona & Seola X Bodyguard Fem Reader

We all know that these days idols are very close to their staff, and honestly that's good because a nice teamwork can give better results. However saying that someone is close to someone else is too much general: they can be colleagues, friends or... something more romantic.

This is the case of the gorgeous manager working for WJSN. We all know that these girls are very...sapphic sometimes, and having this cool and pretty girl protecting you can move something inside your chest. In particular two of them, Seola and Bona, get very attached to her.

Until today they tried to contain themselves, limiting to hanging out all three together after worktime and to some kind cuddle at late night. They didn't intend to change your relationship right now, but they saw something that made instantly change their idea.

They were at this university festival with some of their younger group from the same agency, like Cravity and IVE; regarding that, Yujin was chosen as the main host for the night and that meant that she would often come on and off the stage.

The leader of IVE had just announced the Cosmic Girls as the next artists, so she was coming down the steps when she slightly lost the balance. Luckily you were there to escort your group and you helped her to not fall, getting your bodies very close in the action.

"Oh, thank you so much, I didn't know my seniors had such a beautiful lady to assist them", she said, not hiding at all her flirty intentions. You tried to act cool, but your red cheeks betrayed you. Obviously the scene was observed by Seola and Bona, that rarely moved their looks from over you.

They didn't have the time to do anything about it because they had to perform. However the moment they finished their exhibition, they placed themselves next to you and didn't let you go for any reason.

It was your first time seeing them act that way: being cold and affectionate at the same time. You tried to help Soobin with the dress, but Seola took you away, grabbing your hand tightly. Then you were going to say goodbye to Yujin, but Bona dragged you in another room, because she needed help for something.

It was clear to you that they were hiding something, but you decided that it was not the moment to face that topic. So you let the event and the night end, and while saying goodbye to all the girls in their dorm, you asked to the two strange girl to come in your room later.

Ten minutes later they knocked on your door. They were wearing finally comfortable for the night and had a way more relaxed mood. "So, girls, I wanted go to talk to you about...", you didn't have the time to finish your sentence that Seola sat between your legs, putting an hand on your chest.

At the same time Bona instead got on the bed and hugged you from behind, starting to kiss your neck sweetly. Now you were so red in face. "Girls, I...", you tried again, but Seola interrupted you. "See? You didn't need Yujin to get embarassed", said the older girl. "And then, two is better than one", added Bona, without stopping to kiss your neck.

"You know, maybe we acted a bit foolish tonight, but that's because we don't want anyone to take you away", Seola continued. "You're precious to us. You're not only a co-worker or a friend, you make our heart beat faster", said Bona, gently grabbing your chin to make you look at her.

Her eyes were intense but honest, and you could say the same for the oldest girl. "We can't promise to be less jealous in the future, but we can promise you to make you feel special". "So, please don't be angry, just let us love you".

That night was for sure different. It was not the first time you spend the night together, sleeping with them was now part of the routine. However It was the first time in years that you went to sleep with a smile that big, genuinely happy, between the arms of the girls who finally confessed their love for you.

So, I hope you liked that, Anon, I tried my best, so let me know, and thank you again for requesting 💙

Zazá

[the-kipsabian]

actually a quick bracelet related question before i go to bed, since ive been thinking about this with the pile of these things that i have now

they would obviously be a bit cheaper and chosen randomly from whats available at the store at that current point in time

just something fun idk. is this idea anything orrr?

(you also dont have to vote based on if you'd buy them, just if this idea would be something i should maybe do at some point in the future!)

[isnt-it-pretty]

So we all know I love Cyno with Eleazar. I was thinking of a concept where Cyno is a vessel for Hermanubis because he had Eleazar, and (similar to Collei's residue) it was a way to slow its progression. Cyno was chosen because of it. Maybe it was the research that inspired Dottore.

When the priests from The Temple of Silence brought Cyno to the Akademiya, they told Cyrus:

"If you can find a way to manage Hermanubis, he will years years instead of months."

"And if I can't?"

"Then he will die either way."

Cyrus' first course of action was taking Cyno-- small and sickly-- to the Bimarstan, where his Eleazar diagnosis was confirmed. The doctor gives him months, maybe a year, if they're lucky. But if the priests are right, if Cyrus can find a way to help him manage Hermanubis, then it may be enough to prolong his life.

Until then, Cyrus suddenly finds himself caring for a sick, vulnerable child. He sits up with Cyno, reading storybooks he manages to find while Cyno lays silently, unmoving because even breathing hurts. There's medicine and IVs and doctor's appointments. Cyno is often too ill to get out of bed, curled up among the blankets and sheets in feverish pain. Even convincing him to eat is a struggle. As time goes on, his Eleazar does seem to get better, but the power of Hermanubis is crushing him in exchange. Sooner rather than later, one of those will kill him.

Eventually, Cyrus and Cyno find a way to manage Hermanubis-- at least better than Cyno had been doing alone. All of those who know the truth about Cyno's Eleazar and Hermanubis decide that it's something better left hidden. The public doesn't need to know about a potential treatment for Eleazar, especially when it's so dangerous. The sages want to look deeper into Hermanubis and how it's keeping Cyno's Eleazar in check, but Cyrus refuses. He didn't hold Cyno through painful aftershocks and nurse him through fevers only to hand him over to the Akademiya to do with what they will. It becomes a point of great contention, but Cyrus refuses to back down. Cyno is his, and damn anybody who says differently.

Cyno's Eleazar still flares sometimes, and he goes through a few days or weeks of illness before it retreats again. The worst happens when he's a student in the Akademiya. He was stressed and doesn't pay close enough attention to his body. When he starts feeling sick, he just assumes it's regular sickness. The flare hits him all at once, and Cyno lays curled up in bed, unable to move from a mix of pain and fatigue. He misses a day of classes before Kaveh comes looking for him, but he can't make himself get up to answer his door.

Worried, Kaveh goes to Cyrus, who has no problems unlocking Cyno's dorm room. They find him in bed, feverish and ill, and it's a shock to Kaveh to see the grey scales on Cyno's skin.

They get him to the Bimarstan, where Cyno spends days recovering, and Cyrus explains to Kaveh at least a part of what was going on: episodic Eleazar flares kept chiefly in check by the spirit dwelling within him. Kaveh doesn't really know what to think about it, and he can tell there's something more going on, but he doesn't ask. Instead, he spends all his time outside of classes at Cyno's bedside alongside Cyrus.

Afterward, both Cyrus and Kaveh tend to fuss over Cyno. They mutually ensure he's taking his medication, remembering to eat or sleep, and not throwing himself into his studies to the point of illness again. It's something that becomes a little harder after he joins the matra, but they do the best they can to ensure Cyno is taking care of himself.

The next person to find out is Tighnari, years later. They've been together for some time, but Cyno never felt the need to bring it up. His Eleazar is rarely an issue anymore, although he knows it will one day kill him if an injury doesn't do it first. Perhaps, then, it shouldn't have been surprising for Tighnari to find out because of an injury.

Cyno hates doctors, a feeling that was made worse by having such severe Eleazar as a child, so he goes to Tighnari when he's injured (it's better than patching himself up from serious wounds, which he has done but always earns worried fussing from Cyrus or Kaveh). It's one such time that he has a flare while in Tighnari's care. Tighnari takes the discovery that his partner has Eleazar surprisingly well-- mainly because Cyno's well-being comes first. Afterward, when the fever is gone, and the grey scales of Cyno's skin have once again disappeared, he tells Tighnari the truth. In the grand scheme of things, it's one of the less weird problems with Cyno's health-- his metabolism is far more odd. It does mean that he now has Tighnari fussing over his health.

He never tells Collei the truth about his condition. It doesn't seem necessary, and she doesn't need to know the intricacies of his health. She'll be dead long before he will, anyway-- it isn't worth upsetting her over things she can't change.

The flares become more frequent, though. He's good at working through them, but showing up at Cyrus' house feverish and in pain is an increasingly common occurrence. Despite being an adult, when Cyno is sick and hurting, he wants Tighnari or Cyrus.

It's pure luck he's already gone from Sumeru City during the Sabzeruz Festival. Thinking back, nobody wants to know what would have happened if he wasn't. Instead, he's already headed toward the desert by then.

Cyno never expected his Eleazar to be cured. Even if it somehow was, he certainly didn't expect to feel any different since it was suppressed most of the time, but he does. Nahida and the Traveller cure Irminsul, and in doing so, cure Eleazar and the Withering, and for the first time in his memory, it feels like Cyno can breathe. He hadn't realized the ways it affected him even without the worst of its symptoms, but he notices its absence. It's a relief he can't quite put into words, and one he can only share in quiet conversation with Tighnari, Kaveh, and Cyrus.

[zombie-rott]

"Burying myself alive."

Prompt: “Have you eaten anything?”

Pairing: Established Papa IV/ Reader

POV: You / Your 

Pronouns: She/her

Synopsis:

You haven't been coping lately, and things are getting stressful as the new tour dates approach. You don't know how you're going to survive without him, especially when feeling so vulnerable, and take to running to calm your anxiety.

But, even as a seasoned runner, you neglect yourself. Slowly you began slipping back into a world you promised you never would.

Notes:

This is a short, two-chapter (because it was way too long for one Tumblr post) personal piece. It is based on a conversation had by my husband and me many years ago after I relapsed pretty hard into Anorexia Nervosa. I don't have a lot of memories from that time (or previous relapse because, well, long-term side effects), but this is one of the conversations I will never be able to forget.

It's also now that I realise all the fluff I write about Copia is literally just how my husband is. Do with that what you may.

!WARNINGS!

Mentions of anorexia nervosa, eating disorders, and mental health issues.

Part II

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Abbey had wonderful and expansive grounds, lined with beautiful evergreens and towering willow trees. There was a lake to the east of The Abbey and flower gardens maintained by Elder Primo to the South. Better still, there were pre-laid stone trails twisting and winding throughout. Perfect for evening strolls or morning activities. 

Specifically your favourite thing; Running.

It was a hobby you had taken up during high school and carried through into your adult life. Throughout your life, it had gone from being a hobby to being a way in which you could release your emotions and practice self-care. When your mind began to feel fogged and overwhelmed with anxiety, you took to the cobbled paths. 

Over the years you worked and lived in The Abbey, you’d encouraged quite a few others to join you. Specifically, the ghouls of various Papa’s who enjoyed the freedom to release pent-up energy when they weren’t performing. 

You’d even tried to convince Copia out on a run when you’d first established yourselves as a couple. But he shot that idea down, instead suggesting that sex with you was enough exercise for him. 

To show his support, however, he met you at the end of your route each morning. It had been well over a year and six months, and he was still doing it. And each morning he brought a different treat. Sometimes it was just coffee, either black with sugar, or a light latte. Other times he brought juice, croissants and even, on one occasion, muffins. He would walk you back to their quarters where he often joined you in a shower before you both went on with the rest of your days. 

However, recently things had become rather stressful in The Abbey. Your paperwork never seemed to end, and Copia was always caught up in rehearsals or meetings about the upcoming tour. 

Ah. The tour.

You were avoiding thinking about it, for each time a new tour began, you were left without your Copia. The king-sized bed was suddenly three miles long, cold and empty. 

You thought you would be used to it by now, but you still felt the ache in your chest. Of course, he would call often, but it wasn’t the same. No one lay sleeping while you got up early to run. No one was there with coffee at the finish line. No one was there to help you wash off the sweat and shin splints. And, worst of all, no one was there to help chase away the darkness. 

Copia was aware, of course. He knew how you felt and, truly, leaving you broke him also. But you both knew that, while it wasn’t what you wanted, it was what needed to happen. It was the will of The Unholy One to spread the word through music. And Copia was his chosen one. All he asked in return was to travel the world, doing tour after tour, and enslaving as many as possible. 

Copia was nothing if not a good servant. 

You’d managed it, but you can’t lie and say it was easy. Things really took a turn for the worst during their last tour. You had struggled with a nasty bout of depression brought on by several little things, and exacerbated by his long absence. As a result, you experienced a little bit of a relapse in regard to disordered eating habits. Anorexia Nervosa, in particular, You truly had thought that you were far enough into recovery to ever fall backwards. You knew the signs to look out for and, therefore, it wasn’t an issue. You’d catch it before it became a problem! 

Except, you didn’t. 

You’d tried downplaying it, of course, but Copia knew something was off. He just didn’t know what. He sent word for his older brother and former Papa, Terzo, to ensure your safety, and act as counsel if needed. After a few weeks, you called Copia to confess, after having had a particularly eye-opening conversation with Terzo. 

You could still remember that phone call and the pit it opened in your stomach. You felt like vomiting with each word that came out of your mouth and, had it not been for Terzo sitting beside you, you wouldn’t have gone through with it. 

It had been a very dark time in your life, a time that you didn’t like to think about very much.  So, naturally, as the new tour dates approached you found it harder and harder to stay positive. You were trying to prepare yourself mentally, telling yourself it was alright. You had done this before and while the last time was hard, having Terzo to talk to had made it easier. He was sweet, if not a little sleazy. And a surprisingly good listener. 

But this time the anxiety was coiling in your gut like a vicious snake. You had no appetite, no motivation, and no way to get out of your head other than to run. So run is what you did. Sometimes three times a day. Copia met you after each morning route, but not the others. It was almost like you were trying to condition yourself to not see him there as you approached your metaphorical finish line. 

A few days before the beginning of the tour things had ramped up. The nausea was wreaking havoc on your palate, and everything tasted disgusting. In fact, you didn’t even feel hungry, why bother trying to force yourself to eat? Instead, you gulped down a few ounces of water and laced up your running shoes. You were determined to get out of your head this morning. The last few days had been rough. The stress even led to an argument last night about something so stupid and insignificant that you can’t even remember what it was. You just know it hurt like hell to hear him raise his voice like that. 

You shook off the memory and made your way to the usual starting point.

It was cold outside, the leaves of the trees were beginning to change in colour and fall from their stems. You pulled your scarf up to your nose and, seeing your starting point in front of you, started into a light trot. It wasn’t long until you were hitting your stride, but you weren’t gaining as much momentum as usual. In fact, your legs felt weaker, and you weren’t able to catch your breath in the same way. For the first time in a while, you slowed to a quick walk, and even then you felt a stitch in your side. 

Deep down you knew it was because you were running on empty. You’d barely eaten a decent meal in the last few days and had even been forgetting to drink water. Everything was just feeling so difficult, and basic self-care had become so tedious. And then there was the anxiety eating away at your insides. 

You frowned. This wasn’t helping at all. Running was rushed, it was the feeling of your feet hitting the ground hard, and your breath catching in your chest. It was endorphins running wild and allowing the spillways to lay open, releasing emotion.

Walking, even as briskly as you were, was time to think. You could feel your stomach churning with hurt, both over your argument and what was to come. Your eyes stung, and your throat hurt as you battled to fight back your tears. 

But it didn’t work. The emotions were too hard to hold back, and you pulled your scarf to cover your nose as you allowed the tears to fall. They were warm against your cold cheeks. 

All the while you walked your routine. 

[ladyartemesia]

The Kiss

◐ PART VIII of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Series Masterlist ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Part IV ◐ Part V ◐ Part VI ◐ Part VII ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Hard Mature 18+ (for this installment)

Warnings: this one is a little darker, descriptions of violence, ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming, strong sexual innuendo, discussion of violence relating to ritual combat, possessive behavior, injuries and discussion of injuries, lots of people have, use and are threatened by knives, kidnapping and drugging, its not as bad as it sounds, but it is definitely a bit darker…

Word Count: 4250

Author’s Note: I said it before but it bears repeating...You have no idea what your support has meant to me. Truly your asks and your messages and comments…they made me so happy. You made me believe that people wouldn’t forget about this story. I am so grateful you were able to wait. As many of you know I faced a medical emergency recently and you were all so lovely. The best followers on this site and I MEAN that. As always, my angels @ppersonna @xjoonchildx and  @untaemedqueen​  were (and continue to be) the best betas and the best friends anyone could ask for. My thanks to ALL of you for helping me bring this story to life! I don’t know what I would do without your daily encouragement and your daily support. You guys are the heartbeat of this story. It wouldn’t be here without you.

——◐——

Two Years Ago 

——◐——

Centuries ago the moon goddess stumbled across her human soulmate while he was sleeping. Struck by his beauty, but reluctant to reveal her identity, the goddess began to visit him in his dreams where she could hide her true form and appear before him as a mortal woman. 

In the world of dreams their love flourished and from that blessed union the packs were born…

The wolf nations celebrated this sacred romance every ten years during the Festival of the Lover’s Moon…

The day of the festival was spent eating and drinking and dancing at large parties, but when the sun went down… well—

That’s when things got really interesting. 

On the night of Lover’s Moon the young unmated wolves of the pack were permitted to commemorate this legendary love story in a decidedly scandalous manner. 

The unmated men assumed the role of the goddess’s sleeping lover—they were blindfolded (to represent slumber) and led into a large sectioned off area of the dark forest to ‘wait and dream.’

Unmated she-wolves over the age of maturity (eighteen) took herbal scent suppressors and ventured out into that very same forest in order to anonymously ‘visit’ the young men ‘in their dreams’...

The rules for what exactly that meant were pretty fast and loose which was why Min Yoongi was thanking the goddess and every other deity he could think of that Yunli was still seventeen. 

“But I will be eighteen in two days! Please can’t I just—“

“No. Absolutely not under any circumstances ever.”

“But Yoonji is going!”

“Ji-ah is nearly nineteen and has never been interested in any of the snotty little man-pups of our pack.” He snorted. “She’s probably going out just so she can shove a bunch of them in the lake.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Yunli mumbled irritably. 

Kim Taehyung yawned idly and snuggled into the cozy little pallet he prepared at the base of his favorite tree. The blindfold he and all the other unmated ‘lovers’  wore was made from witchcloth and could not be removed while the sun was down—so he had snuck into the forest earlier to set everything up. 

Now all he had to do was wait until—

“H-Hi Taehyung.”

Oh sh—

“Uh. Hello...Miss.”

Taehyung didn’t recognize the owner of that voice, but he knew for sure who it wasn’t. 

“I was hoping to find you tonight.”

This is not good. 

“Well I’m—I’m flattered… naturally but—”

She touched his hand and he squeaked. 

“I was thinking you and I might get to know each other a little bet—eep!”

The sharp point of a custom blade pressed directly into the unfortunate young beta girl’s pulse point. 

“Are you lost, puppy?”

A heavy cloak obscured the newcomer’s features, but there was no mistaking her meaning. 

Taehyung bit his lip to keep from snorting as the poor she-wolf scrambled away. 

“Ji-ah,” he tsked with feigned disapproval, “that wasn’t very nice.”

Min Yoonji grinned as she sheathed her wicked looking dagger and slid languidly into his arms. 

“You don’t like nice girls, Kim Taehyung.”

“I like you,” he whispered breathlessly against her lips. “Nice or not—it doesn't matter to me…” His hands slid greedily over her soft curves—pulling her closer till he felt the beat of her heart against his own. “I’ll like anything as long as it’s you.” 

This was the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas. 

Jimin huffed as he struggled to find a comfortable position against the giant boulder he’d chosen as his perch.

Why did I let Taehyung talk me into this?

He could be at home—in bed—comfortably sleeping off the all-day feast he’d indulged in. 

Instead he was out in the middle of the forest sitting blindfolded on a rock in the off chance that one of the she-wolves was out looking for him. 

Not bloody likely. 

Not when prime targets like Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook—and countless others—were scattered throughout the woods. 

“Park Jimin?”

Every hair on Jimin’s body stood on end. 

It was a soft whisper—the speaker clearly didn’t want her voice to be recognized, yet something about the sound sent a curious frisson of interest down his spine. 

He gulped. 

“Yes… that’s me. But if you’re looking for Hoseok he’s just a little deeper in. You probably caught his scent downwind so—”

“I’m not looking for Hoseok.”

Jimin licked his lips and the sight of it sparked a odd curl of heat in the pit of your belly. 

“I don’t know where anyone else is…”

“That’s quite alright.” A muted shuffle of movement reached his ears as you settled down beside him. “I was looking for you.” 

“Oh…” He rubbed the back of his neck idly. “Are you sure?”

Laughter like fairy bells whispered through the air and Jimin felt his heart clench.

Don’t get your hopes up. 

“Who are you?”

You were silent for a long time and then—

“I am someone who owes you a debt. One I have never been able to repay.”

Jimin’s head tilted curiously as he considered your words. 

“I’m sorry, miss… you must be mistaken. There isn’t—“

“You don’t remember.” 

It was a statement—not a question. Your voice was nearer now. He could feel the warmth of your body close to his—though not quite touching. “It was your wolf that saved me. But you had not gone through the Change yet.”

Familiar shame spiked sharply in his chest.

“I’m seven years past the Change...Why have you never mentioned this before?”

“Circumstances prevented me from doing so.” 

There was a cold finality to your pronouncement—which of course did nothing but further inflame his curiosity. 

“Then why come to me now?”

“I’ve come to repay you.”

Jimin’s mouth dropped open. 

Were you trying to—?!

“Oh—no please that-that’s not necessary—I could never take advantage of—”

You giggled again.  

“I am not offering my body, Park Jimin.”

Jimin breathed a heavy sigh of relief then shook his head with a wry chuckle. 

“Well considering the circumstances I can hardly be blamed for assuming you might be. And honestly most men would jump at the chance to—”

“You...are not most men.” 

Jimin’s eyes narrowed beneath his blindfold. 

“Little she-wolf—I may not be wrestling bears for fun or bare knuckle boxing in the town square, but I am still an alpha.”

The weight of his command poured over your body as he spoke the last word. There was no order or intent—he had simply given you a taste of his power. 

Aside from your direct blood relatives, no alpha had ever dared unleash their compel in your presence—therefore you were utterly unprepared for the effect it had on you—

Utterly unprepared for the strange surge of want so potent and profound that it stole the breath from your body. 

It was primal—invigorating—

Sensual.

You and your wolf may not have been entirely connected yet, but she was suddenly quite vocal about her desire to fully bask in Park Jimin’s attention.

A wicked grin played over his lips as he leaned in closer and you could almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your cheek. 

“Did you think I would not desire the touch of a beautiful woman in the moonlight?” he whispered. 

Please touch me, Alpha. 

Your eyes widened. 

Dear goddess. Your inner wolf was turning out to be a shameless hussy. 

“You might desire it, but you are far too  honorable to accept it as payment for a debt.”

Jimin drew back warily. 

You were correct of course. After all he had refused you when he believed that was your intent but—

“How could you know that?”

Evade. Evade now. 

“Well... how could you know I was beautiful? You’re blindfolded.”

He shrugged and your wolf took careful note of the way it made all the pretty muscles in his back and shoulders ripple. 

He will give us such strong—

Oh boy. 

He will do no such thing. Please calm down. 

“Not everything must be seen with your eyes.”

Is that how you found me? All those years ago...

Questions churned chaotically beneath your consciousness but you dared not give voice to them. 

Focus.

“I must repay this debt. Ask for what you want and—if it is in my power—I swear it will be yours.”

Jimin smiled again, but this time it was somehow softer. For a moment he looked almost…

Sad. 

“I’m afraid that the only thing I have ever wanted is not within your power to give...and I dare not ask you or anyone else for it.”

For her. 

He sighed and drew even farther away from you—in fact it seemed like he was preparing to leave. 

No. 

Your hand reached out almost of it's its own accord and wrapped tightly around his wrist. The contact sent a shock of searing heat through his veins and he froze. 

“Please alpha. It is not acceptable for someone like me—” a leader, a Luna, “—to owe another my life and offer nothing in return. You must let me pay my debt.”

Omega, his wolf growled, sweet perfect omega. 

Suppressors may have hidden your scent, but the siren song of an omega pleading prettily in his ear was unmistakable—irresistible…

“What if all I want is your name?”

You sighed deeply. 

“I cannot give you that. My name is… not mine to offer.”

Jimin laughed. 

“A woman I cannot remember with a name I cannot know and whose face I cannot see.” He shook his head. “Perhaps you are just a figment of my imagination.”

It was hard to explain what happened next...For whatever reason his words cut you deeply and you were overcome with the desire—no need—to refute them somehow. 

“I’m real enough,” you whispered, bringing his hand to your cheek. 

Jimin was genuinely beginning to wonder if you were a witch as well as a she-wolf. Being close to you was intoxicating and the urge to draw you in was steadily overpowering every other thought.

“Could I ask you for a kiss, then?”

“You—...You saved my life and all you want... is a kiss?”

The air grew heavier as the strange magnetic pull between you swelled to a silent inescapable crescendo. 

“In Seoul I often searched for someone who could ease my loneliness, yet each time I walked away emptier than before.” His thumb brushed gently over your lips and your eyes fluttered shut. “I have never had a kiss that meant anything to me.”

But yours might. 

It was unclear who moved first, whether he pulled you to him or you surged forward but when your bodies aligned and your lips met his for the first time it was as if you had never been separate from one another. 

As if you had always been deeply—intimately —together. 

The indescribable feel of him lit over your senses like a struck match. It was an ignition in the purest sense of the word— a fiery visceral awakening fueled by a consuming flood of desire. 

Yes, Alpha. 

He might never see your face or hear your name, but Jimin knew he would remember the taste of you for the rest of his life. It was hot and bright like liquid sunshine— a pure relentless light flowing through him where there was once only darkness. 

A soft needy moan rose up from your chest and he growled in primal satisfaction as you melted against him. 

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt of their own accord, desperately trying to bring him closer until he wrapped his arms around you in a heated embrace. 

“Please,” he begged breathlessly against your mouth. “Please tell me who you are.”

The words crashed over you like a bucket of ice —dousing the hazy pleasure of his kiss with a cold bite of reality. Suddenly you were wrenching yourself away from him and your wolf whimpered in misery at the loss of his touch. 

“I can’t,” you whispered. 

And then you were gone. 

“Did someone hurt you?”

You looked up to find Jin taking in your tears with cold fury. 

Twin knives were already gleaming dangerously in his hands and he appeared ready to filet whichever bastard was foolish enough to make you cry. 

“No,” you sniffed—well aware of how pitiful you were at the moment—crying in the corner of your cousin’s kitchen. “I got myself into this mess without any help—as usual.”

Jin sighed and slid down next to you. 

“Tell me.”

“Something happened that I…I didn’t intend.”

“Oh I knew that already. The Luna isn’t supposed to be running around on the night of Lover’s Moon in a forest full of blind horny wolves—“

You snorted and shook your head. 

“You’re absolutely right. I should have stayed away.”

Jin’s eyes narrowed and he wondered if perhaps you had caught Kim Namjoon with another omega. Nothing would be official until after the Change of course, but your bond with him was basically a foregone conclusion at this point. 

“You went looking for someone...didn’t you.”

You nodded miserably—all but confirming his fears. He made a mental note to push Namjoon in the swamp at the next available opportunity. 

“You know... the stories say that a Luna is powerfully drawn to her mate under the Lover’s Moon—that her wolf can sense him even before the Change.”  He reached over and gently began to brush the tears from your eyes. “So it’s not surprising that you sought him out, but it’s not really fair to hold whatever it is you saw against him. There is no relationship between you yet and…” he chuckled, “kisses beneath festival moonlight don’t really mean anything anyways.”

It was clear that Jin had somehow gotten the entirely wrong impression, but perhaps that was for the best. 

No one knew of your connection to Jimin and no one had seen what passed between you. 

Still…

Something about his assessment stung you. 

“You really believe that? ...That a kiss exchanged tonight means nothing?”

“I do.” Jin spoke with conviction. “There’s ancient magic at play in those woods. You can’t always trust what you see—or what you feel.”

“Oh I...I didn’t know…”

After a moment you laid your head against his shoulder and let the last of your tears run silently down your cheek. 

“Jin-ah have you ever wanted something you knew you couldn’t have?”

“Yes.” He sighed heavily and pulled you in to snuggle a bit closer. “When I was younger I dreamed of having a mate just like everyone else…”

The words were so softly spoken—almost wistful. Your heart splintered just hearing them. 

“But… she could be out there—your mate.”

Jin shook his head. 

“When is the last time you heard of a female alpha?”

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes. 

“Jin…”

“Hey,” he whispered, “don’t waste your crying on me. I’ve long since come to terms with who and what I am.”

“You’re not sad anymore?”

“Well… maybe sometimes I am… but I had to accept that people like us are not like everyone else. Our destinies were written long before we were born.”

“And you believe you’re destined to be alone?”

“Wolves in a pack are never really alone.”

“Yes...but they can be lonely,” you whispered thinking back to Jimin’s words. 

For a moment Jin’s eyes were the saddest you had ever seen them. 

“Well...I suppose they can.”  Then he chuckled and gave your nose an affectionate little tap. “But you don’t need to worry about that. When the time comes Namjoon will take his place at your side and the two of you will build a wonderful life together... Isn’t that what you want?”

Isn’t it?

Your treacherous thoughts drifted back to the boy in the moonlight—to the way your body sang when he touched you and the strange insatiable desire to know him and be known by him in return.

“Please...Tell me who you are.”

A heavy ache settled in your heart. 

You were the Luna of the mountain nations. A true born moon princess. 

You could never be the woman who kissed Park Jimin underneath the stars. 

You were not like everybody else. 

“...Yes. That is what I want.”

——◐——

Now 

——◐——

Jimin’s heart pounded as he tore through the dark paths of the wood with Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jungkook close behind. 

He had never led an attack—had never been trained to command wolves in battle. 

It was his first true test of leadership and he hadn’t even been a leader for twenty-four hours. 

Yet the fears and anxieties that might have normally clouded his mind were notably absent. 

There was only you.

Ironically Jimin owed Namjoon yet another debt—this time for explaining what exactly someone like him was capable of. 

The alpha Jin captured had given up their plan and position after being exposed to Jimin’s unique gifting, so he had a concrete target in his mind… He suspected however, that your captors had taken precautions after leaving some of their men behind. They had shifted their camp. 

But it wouldn’t be enough to save them. 

Jimin didn’t need your location to find you. 

He spent years refusing to look at you, and even then he always knew exactly where you were. He could sense you in any crowd—hear your voice in a thousand.

Once it had tormented him cruelly to be so aware of you. 

Now it was the only thing keeping him sane. 

He followed the connection between his heart and yours like a lifeline and it guided him as surely as the stars. 

The alphas followed him without question. 

If any of them harbored lingering doubts before, they were firmly laid to rest after what they saw at the cottage. No ordinary wolf could do what he had done. 

The Alpha would bring back their Luna and retribution would be swift indeed. 

The drugs in your system kept swinging you in and out of lucidity like a nightmarish pendulum. You tried to shift after the initial nausea faded, but whatever they gave you kept your wolf caged beneath your skin. 

Jimin

The longing you felt for your mate was the only thing tethering you to reality. You could almost hear him echoing in the far corners of your mind—  

I’m coming Omega—hold on. 

I’ll find you. 

Part of you recognized that his voice was likely nothing more than the wistful creation of your drug-addled mind, still you clung to it like the last shred of hope while the minutes (or hours) flew past.

Chaos clouded your thoughts even in clearer moments as many unavoidable concerns forced their way through the haze. 

Jin was at the house with you when they broke in. You had no way of knowing if he survived. 

The men who took you were crass and irreverent. Their eyes followed your form with too much interest and too little respect. 

It was starting to get cold and (due to you nearly dismembering a high council member and needing to be compelled unconscious) you were still wearing a thin white ceremonial dress which offered very little protection from the elements. 

You wondered idly if your idiot captors would let you freeze to death before they accomplished whatever it was they took you for. They clearly needed you for something or you would have been long dead by now. 

None of them struck you as particularly brilliant planners so the mastermind must be somewhere else... 

Frankly the entire situation was as puzzling as it was troubling. Iron Claw had always gotten along well with your pack. 

Technically they were (almost) what the human governments called a vassal state. The presence of a Luna determined the dominant pack in a region and the Luna of the mountain nations had been born into Silver Fang—your pack—for the last thousand years or so. 

Why would they challenge us now? 

The birth of a Luna indicated that the goddess had chosen that pack to lead. Their willingness—not only to kidnap you—but to go against the dominant pack by doing so was alarming to say the least. 

A sudden explosion of movement and sound interrupted your contemplation. Motion erupted all around you—boots pounding on the ground, men falling into their wolf forms, knives being drawn… 

You lifted your head—straining forward to see the source of the commotion—and nearly collapsed in relief when you finally did. 

Alpha

Your mate stood at the edge of the camp flanked by two enormous black wolves. 

A deadly looking jingum sword gleamed dangerously in his right hand. You recognized it immediately as your great-grandfather’s combat blade—the thousand year-old weapon of the Silver Fang Alphas. 

Relief flooded your chest all over again at the sight of it. Only Jin could have given him that sword—which meant he was still alive. 

The black wolves—Yoongi and Jungkook—snarled viciously but made no move to attack. 

Your captors were still scrambling into some sort of combat formation when Jimin finally spoke. 

“You have violated our sacred laws, trespassed in sovereign pack lands, kidnapped a Luna under the protection of our goddess, abducted the mate of the Silver Fang Alpha, and risked open war between our peoples.” He took a single step forward. “Surrender now and I will be merciful.”

The biggest of your captors—a man you recognized as the de facto leader—spat viciously on the ground. 

“You are not my Alpha,” he growled.

A cold—almost cruel—smile twisted over Jimin’s lips.

“Very well.��

Then he dropped to one knee and a massive grey wolf—Taehyung—leapt over his head and tore out the defiant leader’s throat before he even hit the ground. 

Your mouth dropped open. 

Bangtan formation.

Yoongi and Jungkook lunged forward in opposite directions, tackling their targets to the forest floor in a bloody clash of teeth and claws. 

One of the larger Iron Claw alphas half-shifted and charged Jimin but his arm shot out lightning fast, catching his attacker by the throat to send him flying through the air into a tree. 

The next several minutes could only be described as terrifyingly beautiful.

It was immediately clear that Jimin had been holding back when he fought Namjoon. 

He dispatched his opponents with such elegant savagery it was almost art.

You were so mesmerized watching Jimin sensually sword dance his way through a dozen alphas nearly twice his size that you almost missed Taehyung’s wolf rushing over with a dagger clenched between his teeth. 

Luna are you okay? 

You grinned and held up your rope-bound wrists. 

“I’ll be better once you pass me that knife.”

Taehyung nodded once and dropped the blade at your feet before tackling another wolf that was tearing towards the two of you. 

You sawed through the ties around your ankle first then twisted your arms to try and slice through the restraints on your wrist. 

The Iron Claw wolves were clearly no match for Jimin and his alphas. 

Jungkook and Yoongi chased after the few who were trying to run while Taehyung half-shifted to subdue the handful of wolves left alive as prisoners. Only Jimin continued to fight as the last three of your captors still standing took turns being slammed into the dirt by his strikes. 

He was clearly capable of dispatching them, but you were fairly convinced that you would die if you had to stay away from him for another second. The ropes, however, were surprisingly thick and the angle you were cutting them at wasn’t the best. If only—

You were almost free when you saw it. 

One of your captors had pulled a hunting javelin from their supply wagon. He must have hid himself at the onset of the fight, but now he was comfortably concealed by the shadows—and taking aim at Jimin. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. 

The attacker appeared to handle the weapon with familiarity. He was too far back—too well hidden—Jimin would never see him in time—

The last cord around your wrist snapped and you were on your feet, pushing through the combined haze of fury and sedatives to charge the wolf who dared attack your mate. 

By the time he saw you it was far too late. 

Under the effects of the drug your aim was a little skewed but you weren’t Kim Seokjin’s cousin for nothing. 

One clean flick of your wrist and the dagger shot through the air, burying itself between the brute’s shoulder blades—all the way to the hilt. 

His body fell to the ground just as Jimin sent the last of your captors careening into a pile of previously defeated foes. 

For a moment all was quiet. 

Then your eyes locked across the distance and everything around you sharpened to a single whispered word. 

“Jimin.”

He had run non-stop for miles and torn apart a dozen wolves to get to your side—no amount of space between you now was tolerable. 

The sword clattered to the forest floor as he moved toward you—desperate to feel you—to wrap himself around you and know that you were safe. 

What happened next was as natural as breathing.

You opened to him and he lifted you into his arms, taking your lips in a hot unrepentant kiss. 

Fire exploded across your senses, burning away everything but the touch and taste of him. Every part of you was at once fiercely and gloriously alive. Desperate moans passed between you as he licked into your mouth—a dark primal promise of the pleasure he would take between your thighs. 

“Alpha,” you whimpered, too delirious with want to manage anything else. 

Suddenly Jimin’s eyes shot open. His hands flew to cup your face, searching it with a mixture of realization and disbelief.

“You… It was you.”

If you are already on the taglist, then I will automatically tag you for the next part! If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

Please tell me what you thought of this update! I am really excited to hear your thoughts! Feedback really does fuel my writing and hearing from you means a lot to me! On days that its hard to write, I go back and I read your lovely words and it makes me want to keep going! I cannot overstate its value in my heart! Seriously this story keeps going because you guys have been so supportive and wonderful. You have no idea how much just a few word can brighten my world and fire up my muse. 

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song iii.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, lots of lasagne talk, flirting, kissing, fluff 🥰 words; 9,340

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

After you had time to calm down, of course you ended up telling Soojung about what happened on the date. You kept some things to yourself, mainly about how giddy you had felt throughout the whole thing, but you were sure she could see that for herself – she kept looking at you knowingly, and for once she kept the teasing down to a minimum. You ended up staying awake quite late, Soojung opening a bottle of wine. You were still excited from the date and the thought of what was to come next, but somewhere along the line, you and your best friend started getting into your feelings. (Was it really a Saturday night until you and Soojung ended it with slightly drunk sappy heart to hearts and hugs? Obviously not…) 

For the first time in a while you felt comfortable enough to open up about your love life (or lack of one) and felt it easy to talk about the past and to even bring up Donghae. He was a forbidden topic for the most part, no matter how much you were over him, but tonight had changed something. You didn’t know how to explain it, and no, it wasn’t because Seokjin was somehow the man of your dreams who had magically made things better with just one date. That was dumb and only happened in cliché Hallmark movies. 

No, it was because tonight had shown you that life goes on. No matter what rock bottom you hit, or how long it took you to get over it, no hurt was forever. You’d been single for a long time, and happy at that – after you’d gotten over the heartbreak of Donghae cheating on you – but tonight you’d had fun. You’d enjoyed yourself, enjoyed Seokjin’s company. You didn’t know what would come of your second date, or if there would be a third, but you were okay with that. You were just living in the moment, and right now you really liked that infuriating-not-so-infuriating bastard. 

You were taking a chance, just like he was, and it was actually pretty exciting…

.

.

You woke up late the next morning, something you didn’t reprimand yourself for because it was summer break after all, but also, you had a raging wine headache that had needed all the shut eye it could get. Your head was still throbbing slightly as you reached for your phone on the bedside table but seeing a text from Seokjin waiting for you made it miraculously disappear. 

Seokjin (10:28am) Hi Y/N, Thank you for such a great time last night. I can’t wait until Saturday. Would it be alright with you if I kept in touch throughout the week?  Seokjin

You giggled to yourself at his insane formalities. Why was that so adorable? But most importantly how could he be both cute and sexy at the same time? He was hellbent on making you lose your mind. You thought about teasing him, asking him when he’d grown comfortable enough to drop the Regards from yesterday, but despite how well last night had gone, and despite how much you loved joking around with him in person, over the phone seemed different. You were still a little nervous – giddy nervous, but nervous, nevertheless. Your conversation from last night with Soojung came back to you, reminding you that this was all too real. You were potentially catching feelings for this man, and it was new, and exciting, but equal parts terrifying now that you’d woken up with a hangover. 

Everything you typed out in reply seemed way too stiff, so growing frustrated, you settled on an emoji to cut through the formalities. 

You (10:49am) I had such a lovely time too, Seokjin. Of course it’s fine to keep in touch. I’m looking forward to Saturday night! 😊

What did he mean exactly about keeping in touch?, you wondered as you got out of bed, padding your way down the stairs and into the kitchen for a much needed glass of ice cold water. A good morning text? A how are you? You knew he was busy with work all week, so you weren’t expecting too much, but just knowing he wanted to stay in contact until next Saturday made you smile to yourself as you waited for his response. 

You didn’t have to wait long. 

Seokjin (10:55am) Great! I’m so excited to try your World famous Italian lasagne 😁

Cute. He’d followed your lead, ditching the last of the formalities and even signing off with an emoji instead. You instantly felt more at ease, but – 

Oh no. 

Why did he have to bring that up and remind you of your humiliating blunder? You knew what would be taking up all of your time for the few days – you needed to perfect this goddamn dish. 

Soojung on the other hand was unbothered by your predicament. Mind in the gutter as always. “Do you think that’s a euphemism for something else?” She asked straight away once you’d shown her your messages a few hours later. 

“Soojung!” You exclaimed, feeling yourself get a little hot in the face. You wish she’d stop bringing up sex, it was stressing you out. You told her as much. 

“You’re the one who’s invited him to your house for a second date.” 

You stared at her, greatly unimpressed. “You know why I invited him here.” 

You’d told her last night. You’d been hit with a surge of confidence when you’d suggested it was your turn to decide on something. In truth though, you didn’t know the first thing about restaurants, you hardly ever ate out, and when you did it was either fast food or at the food court in the department store Soojung worked at. You knew he wouldn’t have minded any choice you’d made, but that didn’t stop the slight apprehension you felt. 

It was normal, given your difference in lifestyles, and whilst that seemed to be no issue thankfully, that difference was still there. However really, that’s why you’d chosen to cook for him. Seokjin had shown you something close to him last night – the restaurant he owned with his brother, and now you were to show him something close to your heart. Something that was you. You loved cooking and baking in your spare time and you wanted to share that with him however small. Granted it was things you were confident with, but lasagne couldn’t be that hard, right? A true perfectionist, you’d master it quickly enough…

Soojung rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you could suggest McDonald’s and Dilf would be insanely happy.” She nudged you, squealing like a kid. “He’s just so into you!”

You wouldn’t bite. She was making you nervous again. “Stop calling him Dilf, he has a name.”

“Geez, sorry.” She held up her hands in apology. “Didn’t mean to offend your man.” 

You pushed her shoulder, silently telling her to quit it.

For the next few days it became your life’s goal to master the art of lasagne. Sunday night was spent googling recipes, trying to find the most authentic one. There seemed to be a lot of fuss on the right type of pasta. Flat edged would be fine, but the wavy edge was best. You made note of that. Next was the sauce. Two types. The tomato based one and then the white one – which you learned was called Bechamel. That seemed pretty easy to cook up, but the former seemed a little daunting. Every time you’d had pasta sauce in the past it had been premade, starting from scratch was giving you anxiety. Seokjin thought this was your expertise so you had to make it believable. What if you made it too salty? Too bland?

…Possibly you were thinking way too hard about this. Soojung thought the same. 

“Just buy it in a jar, Y/N, for Christ’s sake. You’re taking this way too seriously. You don’t need to learn fluent Italian to make your little white lie believable. It’s a goddamn lasagne.” 

She had a point. 

“He’d be happy with a sandwich. He’s coming over for you, not the shitty lasagne.” 

“Don’t call my non-existent lasagne shitty, you’re setting me up for failure.” You grumbled, looking at the ten tabs you had up on your laptop screen, all claiming to be the best most authentic recipe around.  

On Monday you went shopping for ingredients. You knew a small world foods store that was just outside of town, you’d been there a couple of times when you’d been baking with the children for class. With help from signposted aisles, you found what you were looking for in no time at all, so that night, you and Soojung both tucked into your first (sort of) homemade lasagne. Only the Bechamel sauces was harder to master than you’d first thought. 

“I think you added too much flour.” Soojung’s nose wrinkled as she spoke. “It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but the white stuff… I don’t know, maybe it’s supposed to taste like that?” 

Nope, she was definitely correct, too much flour, which was odd because you were pretty positive you’d followed the right measurements… 

Tuesday you had a day off from the sight, and even the word lasagne. You met for coffee with your mom but kept the date with Seokjin a secret. Not that she pressed about your love life anymore, she’d long given up on that topic. It was nice to catch up and you made plans for a trip soon. It was hard to find time to visit her when you were in work so you were always thankful for the summer and Christmas breaks. You were her only child, so it made your time together even more precious. She’d only remarried ten years ago, and while Jonathon had kids from his first marriage, they lived abroad. They were older than you and had families of their own. You weren’t particularly close for no other reason than the distance. You’d only met them a few times but they were lovely people. Your father had remarried while you were still in high school, having two more children (a son and daughter) with his wife. You were very close to them despite the age gap and saw them as regularly as you could. Your extended family had long been the norm and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Wednesday you were back on the lasagne. You purchased more pasta sauce and decided on the pre-made Bechamel sauce too, just to be safe. This time around everything went smoothly, Soojung had no complaints and neither did you, but you still invited Taehyung around on Thursday for a third go. He was way more enthusiastic than your best friend, singing your praises all night. 

“Y/N, that was amazing!” He exclaimed, leaning back in his chair to pat his belly. “Dilf dick – Uh, I mean, Seokjin, is going to love it.” 

“Guys, is that what you really call him when you’re alone together?” You whined. 

“Blame Soo,” Taehyung shrugged. “She’s rubbed off on me. But, I’m right,” he smirked. “He’s going to want to give you his DD once he tastes this, if you know what I mean.” 

Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, you looked on unimpressed. Maybe if you gave them no reaction they’d stop? 

“Oooo. I wonder what his dick even looks like. I bet it’s as handsome as his face.” Soojung squealed, sat beside her boyfriend. 

“SOOJUNG!” He cried, mouth open in disbelief. 

“Can we just stop talking about his… y’know…” You sighed, unable to say the word aloud. “Imagine if it was the other way around and he was wondering about what I looked like naked.” Soojung wouldn’t be impressed, that was for sure. 

“Fine, you’re right,” your best friend sighed. “I’m just way too excited because you finally like someone!!” She was getting loud now, she always did when she was excited. “And I want it to work out because you deserve it!” 

You chuckled. “Soo, calm down.” But you had to admit her words were sweet. You reached for her hand across the tiny table, giving it a gentle squeeze of thanks. 

“What about Barman dick?” Taehyung asked randomly, totally oblivious that you and she were having a moment. “Huh? Soo? You want my Barman dick tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows again, a playfulness to his voice as he nudged her. 

She giggled but wasn’t having any of it. “It doesn’t really have the same ring to it, babe.” 

Highly offended he pulled away, pursing his lips. “Whatever.”

“Okay guys, let’s not have a domestic at the dining table.” You laughed. Which was a mistake because now Taehyung’s attention was back on you. 

“So, Y/N, when are you going to invite Mr. Dilf to my bar?”

You sniggered. “How about never?”

“Hey, you ladies are being very mean tonight. I complimented your lasagne.” Hm. That was true, you guessed. “What’s wrong with my bar? I think he’d love it. What does he drink? I see him as a dark rum type of guy.” 

You shrugged. “He was drinking red wine on our date last week.” It still made you feel funny to say the word date. You’d gone on a date. You were dating. A flurry of excitement found its way to your stomach, your excitement for Saturday growing. 

“Interesting,” Taehyung mused.

Soojung stood up, starting to collect your plates. “Okay, I’m washing, who’s drying?”

“Not me,” you sang. “I’ve cooked nearly every night this week.” 

Soojung eyes were wide when you met them, as if she was silently begging you. For what? “Just please promise me there won’t be any lasagne waiting for me after work tomorrow night? I’m going to turn into one at this rate.” 

Saturday arrived soon enough. You woke up the same time your phone went Bing and you knew exactly who it was. Seokjin had been texting you Good morning every day since Monday. He was no longer signing them off with his name, which was progress, and he was even adding more emojis, so you guessed you had rubbed off on him. 

Sometimes he’d drop a meme with the greeting. They were mostly to do with early mornings and workloads to which you’d tease him about because it was your summer vacation after all, you didn’t need to worry about work. But you always sent a Hope today runs smoothly his way too. You didn’t want to rub it in too much. 

Yesterday’s meme had been about dating, something about the guy trying to flirt but being garbage at it and asking if she liked cheese. You didn’t agree that was like Seokjin though – you were gradually learning that he was incredibly modest – but it had made you laugh. Only Seokjin could send you lame memes and you’d find it adorable… You were possibly whipped. 

Seokjin (8:01am)  Good morning. [Image sent] 

Today the meme was about lasagne, which made you question whether he was googling these every morning because no way had a lasagne meme popped up on his social media – if he used any at all. The realisation that he was searching for memes every day was even more endearing and your heart got a little gooey. You read the text on top of the image of lasagne. Dude, is that your new white shirt? Lemme just hop off this fork for a closer look. You genuinely laughed at that one, still wrapped up in your bed sheets. So incredibly lame, but equal levels funny. 

Seokjin (8:01am)  I will not be wearing white… I can’t wait to see you later. Just a reminder that I hope you omitted the garlic for tonight’s meal. I don’t want to embarrass myself by itching all night 😅😂

Immediately the smile dropped from your face and you shot forward, horror washing over you. Oh no. He was allergic to garlic. With the stress of perfecting the world’s best lasagne you’d totally forgotten. What were you going to do? Find a plain tomato sauce? Where the hell were you going to find one? Was that even a thing? You needed to leave now. Jumping out of bed you almost forgot to message Seokjin back. Looking at your phone again the image of the lasagne mocked you… 

.

.

Two hours later you were back at home, in need of a sit down after you’d rushed around town looking for a pasta sauce that didn’t contain garlic (very hard, by the way.) The stress had aged you about ten years. Soojung of course found it highly hilarious. 

“You’d have been in ER before 9pm,” she chortled, still in her pyjamas on the couch. She’d been still asleep when you’d dashed off, a woman on a lasagne mission. 

You ignored her. It wouldn’t have been that bad, right? He said himself he’d only be itching… Clawing off his own skin was probably better than his throat closing up… maybe… 

“How did you manage to forget?” She was still laughing. “AND you said you’d make a lasagne. Italian food always uses garlic. He must think you’re trying to kill him.” At this point you could hardly understand her, words blurring into one as she lost her shit. 

“We went over this. I wasn’t in my right mind when I said I’d cook lasagne.”

She stopped her laugher immediately.  “No way, you’re not blaming me again.” 

“Ugh.” You sighed, suddenly remembering something. “I was going to make my homemade garlic bread.” Now that was a speciality of yours. This night was going to be a disaster.

“Skip the garlic,” Soojung suggested. 

“So, just bread then.” 

She tried her best not to laugh again, not wanting to make it worse. “Yum.” 

It didn’t help. 

What did help though, was making her clean the entirety of the downstairs of the house. As the day went on you started to get more and more nervous, which was silly, but you couldn’t help it. You realised that your place was a shoe box in comparison to his, what the hell were you thinking when you’d invited him here?! It needed to be spotless, to distract him from the fact you would be eating dinner in the same place you would be cooking it… 

You knew there was no need to worry, it was just like last week when you’d grown self-conscious only to be fine once you’d set eyes on Seokjin. No doubt tonight would be just the same, he didn’t give a crap about stuff like that, so why would you even think he would? He’d probably be hurt if he knew… You just couldn’t help those little bubbles of insecurities from floating around inside your brain. You were a law unto yourself, and the garlic-less lasagne wasn’t helping. You’d had no time to prep for it. What if it tasted like cardboard? 

“Lasagne is lasagne,” Soojung reassured you, in the kitchen as you got all the ingredients together. “It’s not going to taste gross just because there’s no garlic in it. Put it this way, at least you can kiss without needing to pop a mint.” 

You whined, shaking your head, you couldn’t even dare thinking about kissing him right now. You’d spontaneously combust from anxiety. 

“Should we clean your room too?” She asked, picking up the jar of pasta sauce absentmindedly. You’d already read the label approximately fifteen times, double checking it was indeed garlic-less. 

“What? No,” you told her, voice all high-pitched. There would be no going upstairs besides from bathroom usage. “But hey,” you exclaimed, rounding on her with the spoon you were holding in your hand. “My room is always clean, bitch.”

She was the messy one.

.

.

Soojung left for Taehyung’s place at half 6, ready for Seokjin’s arrival at 7pm, a hug for good luck before you waved her off. You’d calmed greatly now, nothing like some table laying to ease some nerves. The lasagne was prepped and ready to oven cook, you had a fresh key lime pie in the fridge and you were dressed and presentable with ten minutes to spare. Wonderful. 

The doorbell rung not long after you’d made your way downstairs and you were quickly finding out that Seokjin was a very punctual man. Opening the door to reveal him stood at the porch your heart instantly warmed, skipping a beat when he gave you a dazzling smile and a soft Hey. You felt a little weak at the knees. Nope, you were not ready for tonight. 

In your tiny entryway he offered you a silver gift bag. “I didn’t know what to bring, so.” He said with a shrug as you pulled out a bottle of red wine. 

“Oh, thank you, Seokjin.” You hadn’t been expecting him to bring anything at all. It was a lovely surprise. 

“You probably have some waiting already. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you reassured him. “We’ll use this one.” You were going to use a bottle of white wine you had laying around, nothing special at all. Red wine seemed better, fancier, maybe it would go better with the lasagne?

“Are you sure?” He asked. “I was gonna get you flowers but I didn’t want to freak you out or anything.”

You laughed. What was he going on about? “Why would that freak me out?”

His smile was crooked as he chuckled quietly. “I don’t know. I’m new to this, I thought they would’ve been too forward.” 

You gave a small shrug, voice barely there when you replied. “I like flowers.”

He gazed at you, warm eyes softening as he stepped forward. “Next time.” He smiled. “Next time I’ll get you flowers.” 

You swallowed fairly loudly, averting your gaze as you outstretched your arms. “Let me take you coat.” Was it hot in here? You felt a little stuffy. 

He shrugged off the beige wool blend, revealing the tight fitting black shirt he had on underneath. It stretched over his shoulders, accentuating how broad they were, how hard his chest was and how much his waist curved inwards. The pants he was wearing didn’t help matters too. He looked effortlessly gorgeous, hair parted to the side, a piece curled above his left eye, softening the blow of his exposed forehead. You moved to hook his coat on the rack, realising you could’ve been gawping. Not that you could help it, the man was trying to kill you.

As you turned to face him again, he smiled. “You look really nice.” His voice was soft which just made it even more dangerous. “I think this may be the first time I’ve seen you in pants.” 

“Really?” You wondered. You were partial to a dress in the summer, so he was probably right. You’d chosen a pair of black skinny jeans and a patterned chiffon blouse. Nothing too fancy, but he looked at you with awe-filled eyes. Unless you were imagining it. You cleared your throat. “You look good too.”

He stepped back, arms outstretched as he looked down at himself. “Thanks. No white.” He chuckled. 

You forced yourself to laugh too, nerves creeping back just because of your stupid damn lasagne. “No white.” 

Moving forward again he took your hand. It was warm and soft, just as you remembered from last week. Who cared about the lasagne when you were this close to him? When he was looking down at you with those brown, twinkly eyes? Not you anymore. 

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, Y/N.” 

Oh.

.

.

You invited him inside the living room first, pouring him a small (and his only because he the car) glass of wine as you chit chatted for a few minutes. Sat next to him was RJ, who you’d taken from your bedroom to join you both for the night. He wanted to say Hi, had been your opening line and Seokjin had found it hilarious, cracking up instantly. Although his “I missed you buddy, how have you been?” went rudely ignored. Maybe the alpaca was nervous… 

Ever the gentleman, he complimented you on the house, noting the décor with a fond eye. That surprised you, maybe he had played a part with the interior of his home. Well, you’d only seen the cosy family room – but it suited him very well. You knew there had been no need to be nervous when it came to inviting him into your home. There wasn’t a judging bone in Seokjin’s body. 

You talked about your weeks, yours had been fine, but of course you left out all the stress over the lasagne. Seokjin’s week on the other hand had been quite demanding, but that was nothing new he told you with an accepting shake of his hand. He was used to it by now, but he had to admit tonight’s date had made it easier this time around. He was full of the charm, not that you were complaining…

Misook was babysitting Arin tonight, he told you when you asked how she was. It was his weekend this week, he and Nana took it in turns – when she didn’t cancel, he added as an afterthought – but he seemed a lot more relaxed talking about his ex-wife this time around seeing as last weekend she hadn’t broken any promises. He was happy if his daughter was happy, and that made you smile. You remembered Arin’s sorrowful face that day her mom had cancelled on her, so you were glad they’d found time to spend time together. You also remembered how irritated Seokjin had sounded when he was opening up to you on the bench at the school fate… You wondered just how often Nana cancelled plans, and couldn’t imagine how frustrating that was for both Arin and Seokjin… You hoped this marked the start of things being easier for them now. 

Soon after that, you served him your starter (“garlic – wait, no I mean, no-garlic bread.”), and you chatted some more over that and while the lasagne baked. It was surprising how little you’d touched the sides on your first date, so tonight you covered even more bases. Family mainly. You told him about your half and step siblings, your parents’ remarriages of course coming up too. He seemed interested in that, wondering about your views on it and if it had affected you as you grew up. As a divorcee you understood the relevance to him and because he was so easy to talk to you found yourself opening up freely. 

His parents were still married and Seokjin was the youngest out of their two sons, so it was quite unheard of for the second born to take over a family company. In fact, it was the first of its kind for his, which made it even harder for him. His older brother had been the rightful heir to LG Electronics but his passion had always been in culinary arts. His parents had been kind enough to let him follow his dreams, and thankfully, for Seokjin, that meant he could follow in his father’s footsteps. He’d been eager to prove himself but it had been hard in the beginning. His status as the youngest son meant that a lot of people set him up for failure, but with his family’s love and belief he’d managed to succeed and confirm himself as the rightful CEO. You didn’t doubt it. It seemed he’d worked hard to get where he was now. That was admirable. 

The influx of information was so interesting to you and it didn’t feel real. While you could imagine Seokjin taking charge, visualising him in that tailored houndstooth suit he’d worn when you’d first met him, it was strange to think the smiley and soft-spoken man sat in front of you was from a long line of power and wealth. He should be untouchable, yet here you were able to reach for his hand across the table. Able to feel his forefinger stroking delicate patterns into your palm as you opened up and got to know one another more and more… 

“So, if your family’s a big deal, what about things like arranged marriages? Are they still a thing?” You asked, maybe confusing fiction for fact. 

Seokjin laughed at your wording. “They used to be, not so much anymore. I met my ex-wife through a friend. They concentrate less on things like that these days.” He shrugged, adding as an afterthought, “As a divorced CEO I think I’m a great example of that.” 

That was true, you thought to yourself, wondering how the breakdown of his marriage had also played a part in the stress of his early years as CEO. 

“I know it all sounds pretty crazy, but I like to think my family is just like anyone else’s.” He continued, smiling bashfully when you met his gaze. “That I’m just like anyone else.” 

You wondered how many people had immediately judged him because of his status… You’d been one of them, right? Even if you hadn’t known any of the details, you’d written him off as some obnoxious, rich guy who flaunted his wealth… You felt guilty thinking back. He was the complete opposite.

You nodded in agreement before grinning. “I’d have liked to see what college Seokjin was like.” 

“A complete nerd, to tell you the truth.” 

He answered so seriously, you didn’t know how to react, and then he was laughing loudly, cracking up at himself. You couldn’t help but join in. That’s when your stove alarm went off, shrill and incessant, signalling the arrival of the dreaded lasagne…

It turned out he loved it though. 

“This is amazing,” Seokjin praised, mouth still half full as he chewed. You did have to admit it was good. It tasted just like the original, despite the lack of garlic. Seokjin quirked an eyebrow, smirking your way. “So, how lucky am I to be able to try this World famous Italian lasagne?” 

“Very lucky.” You kept your answer short. Hoping he’d just drop it. 

He didn’t. 

“How lucky?” He tried to pry from you. “How many people have tried it?” 

You gave him a small smile, hovering your fork over the plate. Technically he was the third, but you couldn’t tell him that, could you? “I can’t disclose that.” 

He emitted a short laugh. “What about the recipe? Care to share?” 

You brushed him off with a soft chuckle. “A chef never tells her secrets.”

“Not even me?” His bottom lip jutted out as he looked across at you. 

Your heart did a little dance. He was being unfair. “Don’t pout like that, it’s making me feel guilty.” 

Thankfully the lasagne topic fizzled out after a couple more minutes, your cold sweat having time to dissipate while you chatted and ate together comfortably. However a few minutes later you noticed Seokjin fidgeting slightly in his seat. You politely ignored it to begin with, unsure if you were just imagining it, but then he started itching the back of his neck. You put your fork down, a sick feeling washing over you. “Is anything wrong?” You asked, now watching him itch up his forearm. “Seokjin?”

He looked at you in mild confusion, eyebrows creasing together as he opened his mouth. “Are you sure there wasn’t any garlic in this?” 

You swallowed away the panic racing up your throat. “I’m sure.” You’d read the back of that jar and then read it some more. “I’m positive.” 

… Weren’t you? You watched him scoot his chair back, leaning down to start scratching the back of his calves. He made noises of discomfort as he did so. 

“Oh, no…” You were up before you could stop yourself, racing around him to start hunting in the recycling for the glass jar. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

You could hear Seokjin’s voice behind you, sounding alarmed, but you were too panicked to really take it in. You needed to be sure. This was just your second date, you couldn’t ruin things already. Turning him into one giant itchy red blob had not been your intention.  

“I was only teasing you.” Still, his words didn’t sink in. That was until you felt a hand on your elbow, tugging gently for your attention. 

You spun around, worried eyes wide – even wider when you found him so close. He was on his feet too, bent a little to level with you, pretty much within kissing distance. His voice was soft when he spoke, you found yourself distracted by his mouth. “Y/N, I was just messing around.”

You blinked, not truly understanding with all those annoying distractions zooming around your mind, but slowly you pieced his words together. Oh. Despite the relief you felt, now you just felt silly. Plus, he was still so close to you… 

You took a step back, the small of your back pressing up against the counter. You needed a clear head. “Don’t freak me out like that.” You told him, but you still sighed in relief, hand against your chest. “I thought I’d poisoned you.” 

He looked a little concerned, but you could tell by his eyes he found your reaction amusing. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”

“Make me laugh? You nearly gave me heart failure.” However, you gave him what he wanted, a laugh that sounded weak and shaky, but it was something – you did see the funny side. 

He joined you, shoulders relaxing now that he knew you were okay. He looked behind you, eyes on the trashcan, a bemused smile on his face. “What were you looking for anyway?”

“The jar.” You answered, as if it wasn’t obvious. You turned, deciding to fish it out anyway. Holding it up to him, you were adamant. “See, no garlic. Check.” 

He chuckled. “I already said I was joking.” He took one look at your desperate expression and gave in, taking the jar from your hand. “But if it makes you feel better…” You watched him as he read the label, silently soaking in his handsome features. He looked softer tonight, the curve of his jaw rounding as he smiled. It took you a moment to realise he was done. He handed the jar back to you, and you prayed to God he hadn’t caught you staring at him all gooey-eyed. “It’s fine.” He confirmed. “I’ll be itch free tonight.” 

You smiled and plopped the glass back inside the can. “I looked around town for hour trying to find lasagne sauce sans garlic.” 

He looked guilty. “I’m sorry for being awkward.” Then he paused, eyes narrowing, the hint of a smirk itching at the corners of his mouth. “But… Y/N, are you a fraud?” Huh? What did he mean? You didn’t need to wait long for an explanation. “I thought a certified chef would cook up a batch of her own tomato sauce.”

Oh. You’d gone and put your foot in it, hadn’t you? It was probably time to explain yourself… “I have a confession,” you began, sounding wary. Seokjin looked interested albeit it mildly confused. “I… may have told a little white lie.”

He shook his head, a puff of laughter leaving him. “You’ve lost me.” 

You took a deep breath, knowing you were going to have to spell it out for him. “I’ve never made lasagne before. Ever. In my entire life.” 

He looked confused as silence spread out between you. He sounded it too when he spoke again. “Then why did you say it was your speciality?”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands for one dramatic moment. “I panicked.” Peeking at him, you babbled on. “I know it sounds stupid but Soojung was curtain twitching and it was stressing me out and then you were asking me what I cooked and lasagne just popped into my head!”

Seokjin blinked, his mouth twitched and then he was laughing – loudly. 

“You find it funny?” You asked, relaxing a tad. 

“Very.” He laughed harder but seeing the look of bafflement on your face he tried is best to still it. 

“I’ve been practicing it like crazy,” you whined, happy you could finally tell him all about your lasagne struggles. “This is my fourth time eating it this week. Soojung nearly killed me.” You snorted at the memory. This started up Seokjin again. “And then I forgot you were allergic to garlic. Your text reminded me this morning and I had to rush out to the grocery store.” 

He was weak at the knees at that, and you were laughing just because he was. It was contagious. “Stop,” you wailed, attempting to get a hold of yourself. This week had actually been quite traumatic. “I’m glad you find it funny, I’ve been in constant stress ever since you drove off last week.” 

“I can’t help it.” He chuckled, although he did sound apologetic. “You’re just so adorable.” The air that settled around his effortless admission made your skin prickle. When he carried on, his tone was gentle. “You know I wouldn’t have minded if you changed the menu to something else, right?” 

You pouted ever so slightly. “But you were looking forward to it.” 

He gave a small shrug. “True, but… that was more so code for ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you again.’ The food was just a bonus. I’d be happy with a Big Mac.” 

You felt your cheeks burn and you tried to shake yourself out of it. “So embarrassing,” you murmured. You didn’t know what for… The lasagne mess or the fact he could have this much of an effect of you? You were inclined to go with the latter. 

“What about the no-garlic bread?” Seokjin asked, changing the subject a little. Maybe he’d sensed your embarrassment and didn’t want to make it worse. He was sweet. “Did you make that?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Well, I didn’t bake the bread. I just toasted it.” It was still a speciality of yours though. “It would’ve been much tastier with the garlic.” 

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. This body wants to turn me into a miserable old man.” 

Pfft. Old? Miserable? He was anything but. 

“Sit,” he prompted you, smiling as he motioned with his head to the table. “Finish your World famous Italian lasagne before it grows cold.” 

As you moved he delicately cupped his hand around the curve your waist, giving it a soft squeeze before he got to his chair first. Your stomach flipped, head dizzy as you sat and tucked your chair in. Last Saturday popped into your head, the way you’d loosely held hands outside and how you were sure he’d been leaning in to kiss you – properly. 

You knew one thing. You really wanted to kiss him tonight. 

Trying to get a hold of yourself, you glanced at him, catching his eyes. He was already tucking in again, and he grinned bashfully, as if embarrassed. “This really is great. All that practice paid off.” A pause. “You should show me how you cooked it sometime.” 

Your face lit up in surprise. “You cook?” In the back of your mind you were aware that he’d probably been hinting for a third date, but you were so shocked by the possibly of Seokjin cooking you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. 

He chuckled quietly. “I mean, when I have time and can be bothered. I like cooking but it’s just easier to go to a restaurant or get it delivered.” He looked sheepish before adding, “Or Misook does it for me.” 

There was no shame when it came to that. Seokjin probably worked all hours of the day, no one could expect him to tie on an apron when he got home and start pulling out pots and pans. 

“Do you cook a lot?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Soojung and I take it in turns.” 

“So what is your speciality?” He smiled. 

This time around you were in your right mind and able to answer properly. “Veggie tacos.” 

He raised his eyebrows, impressed. Then he tried again. “Can you make them for me sometime?”

He was persistent, you’d give him that. You shrugged, trying your best to sound impassive but the little smirk gave it away. “Maybe if you say please…” 

He laughed, leaning forward, a hand clasping yours as he tilted his head. The piece of curled hair falling into his left eye. “Please?”

Your heart did another little dance inside your chest. 

.

. 

After dessert you both made your way back to the living room, settling on your couch with two pomegranate mocktails Taehyung had prepared for you yesterday. All you had to do was add the pomegranate juice and lemonade to the ice cubes and crushed lime segments and mint before serving, easy-peasy. Seokjin was highly impressed, but of course you couldn’t take the credit. It was all down to your best friend’s very helpful barman boyfriend. 

You were glad Seokjin wanted to stay as you didn’t want the night to be over yet. It had flown by so fast and you’d had so much fun. You already felt like you knew him better, even after only two dates. It was strange to you, how you could feel so relaxed in a stranger’s company, but then again, you guessed he wasn’t a stranger anymore… Plus, he was so easy to talk to, so interesting to get to know…. Everything between you two came easy. 

Like opening up to him, being a bit more vulnerable… 

“I’ve been slightly nervous all week,” you admitted, clutching your drink to you before chuckling softly. “– and not just about the lasagne faux pas…” 

“There was no need to be nervous. I thought we left all that behind on the first date,” Seokjin reassured, smiling warmly your way. 

You were sat together, turned to face one another. It was intimate and cosy. He had one leg lifted, the ankle resting on the knee of the other leg, and where his pants had ridden up, you could see an inch or so of his calf before it met the black cotton of his sock. For some reason, you found that very, very sexy. Maybe you had been single for far too long. 

“We did,” you agreed, hesitating slightly. “It’s just… I haven’t done anything like this in so long.” 

You didn’t even think you’d ever invited someone around for dinner before. You were still quite young when you found yourself in a relationship with Donghae so your dates before him had been very basic. Your dates with him hadn’t really classed as such just because you became official fairly quickly, and your dates after him, well, it was already known that they had been few and far between. 

“You already know we’re in the same boat,” he smiled before chuckling bashfully. “No, but really, when I asked you for dinner that day at the fate I was expecting you to turn me down.” 

“How come?”

He looked down at his drink, lifting a shoulder. “I thought you’d think that I was crossing a line… or maybe the spark I was feeling was all in my head and in reality you just found me really annoying.” 

That was cute. He’d been doubting himself. Human after all. Not that you’d ever thought he wasn’t. You still didn’t miss the opportunity to joke around though. “I mean, both can exist simultaneously.” He taking a sip of his mocktail when you replied so he ended up snorting into his glass, amused by your wit. 

A moment or so passed and Seokjin gazed at you, smiling softly. If he kept this up, you’d be a puddle on your parquet flooring. “So, tell me,” he hummed. “How did I luck out so good?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant. “How come an amazing person like you isn’t married or in a relationship?”

He must’ve seen the slight shock on your face and panicked instantly. “Is that a weird thing to ask? I feel like it is. I apologise.”

“No,” you insisted, sitting up a little straighter. He followed. “No, it’s not.” You wanted to open up to him. You really did. You just didn’t know where to start. Although, it was pretty simple. “I’ve been single for a while.” 

“How long?” Seokjin was instantly focused, attentive, noticing the change in your body language. 

“Three years. My last relationship didn’t end very well.” You paused, wondering if you should continue. But then… It had been a massive part of your life. No matter how much time had passed and no matter how okay you were now, it had still happened. And Seokjin, he had trusted you enough to open up about his divorce – even before you’d gone on your first date. You wanted to talk about it. You really did. 

“I found out my fiancé was cheating on me.”  

Seokjin’s eyes widened, unable to cloak his surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely. 

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “It was rough getting over it. Took me a while, but it is what it is. It’s in the past now.” 

“Did it put you off dating?” 

You were pleasantly surprised to find it was actually easy to talk to Seokjin about this. Your mouth was opening before you had to think about it. “I mean, at first. I was still very much in love with him, even after he broke my heart. But I got over him and I started dating again – briefly – It just didn’t feel right.” You stopped to smile. “It’s been over a year and I can’t say I missed it… but you…” Nerves growing, you pushed them away. “You’ve changed that. I’m having fun.” 

Seokjin’s face lit up and he chuckled. “I did hit second date status after all.” 

“You did…” 

“So,” he leaned closer, a small smirk on his face. “You could say, hitting your car that day wasn’t actually my fault because it was supposed to happen.” 

You snorted as you laughed, head falling against the back of the couch. “I wouldn’t go that far.” 

He made a sound. “But we wouldn’t have met otherwise.” 

“We would!” You exclaimed. “The parent-teacher meeting.” 

He blinked, feeling dumb. “Oh, yeah.” 

It wouldn’t have had the same effect, granted, but you would have become acquainted with one another regardless. “Would you have still liked me?” You asked without thinking, surprising yourself. 

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “I was instantly attracted to you after all, it’s just…” Instantly attracted? Definitely a charmer... “There would’ve been no way for me to get to know you like I did.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re really adamant that you had to reverse into my car to make this work, huh.”

He shrugged casually. “It was the only way.” 

You laughed quietly, finishing the last of your drink. Time was getting on, it was pretty late, Seokjin had already finished his, you watched him sit up to lean forward and place the glass on your coffee table. His shirt tightened across his shoulder blades and you could see his back muscles as he stretched. Oh.  

Settling back into the same position, he looked over at you and grinned. His teeth were perfect. Did this man have zero flaws? Why were you so whipped? It was embarrassing. 

“I had fun tonight,” you told him, trying to keep a lid on whatever was going on with you right now. 

He seemed pleased with that, nodding his head. “I’m happy to hear that you think I’m a fun person.” 

You scoffed, body falling closer to his. Your shoulders brushed together. Seokjin didn’t take his eyes off you. “Hm. I don’t think I said that.” 

“Hey, don’t be so mean.” He murmured, one side of his mouth quirking up. 

Like you couldn’t stop yourself, your hand reached for the collar of shirt. He had the top two buttons loose and your pinkie finger brushed against his collarbone. Sparks flew, but you tried to ignore them. “I thought you liked it when I was mean.” You teased, voice low. 

Seokjin hummed, his eyes still twinkled like they always did but there was something else to them, a depth that made you feel funny. He sunk closer to you. So close you could study the thick curve of his eyelashes, notice that both his eyelids were different. He really did have beautiful eyes. You could stare at them forever. 

Preoccupied, you slowly realised that he was watching you too, studying your features in the golden glow of the floor lamp that hovered over the couch. His lips parted, you heard them rather than saw it, but then your attention was on them again. Just like it had been earlier on in the night. He was staring at yours too as he spoke. “I wanted to kiss you last week.” 

You heartbeat quickened but you tried to keep cool. “You did kiss me.” You laughed. 

He sighed. “On the cheek.”  

You lightly tugged his collar, fingertips now brushing the skin of his chest. “Isn’t that what you said you wanted to do?”

You could feel his own heartbeat against your forearm that was pressed into him. It was definitely running a little faster than it was supposed to – stronger. “Yes, but…” He glanced up to your eyes. “I was just being polite. I wanted to kiss your lips.”

It felt like you were holding your breath. Maybe you were, you just couldn’t think straight. Time seemed to stretch out, but you knew what you wanted. So you went after it. Giving him a small smile, you replied. “Maybe I wanted that too.” 

He swallowed, voice so low now it was barely a murmur. “Is that an invitation?” His eyes bounced to your lips again, then back to your eyes as he asked permission. “Can I kiss you?”

You ever so slightly dragged your bottom lip beneath your teeth as you nodded, breath catching in your throat as Seokjin leaned forward and closed the distance between you. The hand in between your bodies moved to delicately hold the wrist of your arm against his chest, holding you there as his other hand reached for your jaw, angling your face to press a kiss to your mouth. His eyes were already closed so you followed. 

He hummed at the contact, his lips soft and warm and you let yourself sink. His actions were light at first, faint as he kept constant pressure, as if he was familiarising himself with the sensation. You couldn’t even let yourself think about how this was the first kiss you’d shared with someone for a very long time. All that was going through your mind was how good it felt to be touched like this by him. 

He readjusted the hand on your face, tucking some hair behind your ear to cup your cheek. You liked that. You liked it when he touched you, and he eased from your mouth completely before coming back with a firmer pressure. It was your turn to make a sound; a tiny gasp as your lips began to move together ever so slowly. He liked that, a hum of satisfaction vibrating against the soft skin of your lips. You clutched at his shirt, gathering the crisp cotton in your fist, that would surely turn it creased, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was too preoccupied with reaching for the glass you’d forgotten was hugged to your body by your free hand. 

He unclasped it from your fingers and had no choice but to break away from your mouth to put it next to his on the coffee table. You whined, attempting to tug him back to you, and he chuckled, taking a hold of one of your hands. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, leaning forward to place the cocktail glass down. 

And he was. 

This time he used both of his hands to grasp your face and dive back in. He was more confident this time, moving in such a way his lips pried yours open. You reached for his shoulders, grasping them to hold him closer and this time you both made noises – sweet, quiet ones that worked beautiful together as your lips moulded with gradual urgency. 

When your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers through his hair, he had to drag the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking entry. You met it with yours, tasting hints of pomegranate and lime with each wash of tongue. A hand of his slipped down to your side, stroking up and down the curve as if he couldn’t help but to touch you. He settled at your hip after a moment, the other splayed against the side of your neck, his thumb rolling small circles under your cheekbone. 

This was getting addictive. You could tell by the way you moaned softly against each warm, wet curl of his tongue. This was everything you’d imagined and more – because you had imagined it. Late and secretly at night when you were trying to drift off to sleep and thoughts of lasagne were banished… You were glad your first kiss was here, inside, on your couch, because this wasn’t something for the open, your knees wouldn’t have been able to hold you up. 

You could have kissed him forever, you mean, you definitely didn’t want it to stop but you pretty much had to. Breathing was a necessity, right? If you couldn’t breathe you wouldn’t be able to ever kiss Seokjin again and that would be absolutely awful… 

You did it the right way though – gradually. Seokjin slowed it right down, only hints of his tongue left as he hummed indulgently, like he was savouring your taste before he had to inevitably pull away. It made your insides jump around like crazy, hearing him enjoying himself, and you tried your best to come to when he started easing the pressure of his lips, pressing small, chaste kisses to them instead as you ultimately (but slowly) broke apart. 

You opened your eyes, blinking up at him, hands falling from his hair, aware you had become one with your cushions. You struggled to free yourself as he sat back and you watched him smile fondly at you. His breath was shaky – so was yours, and you were sure his hands trembled slightly as one reached up to scratch the back of his neck. His neck that was blotched with red, flushed, travelling to his cheeks. They were rosier than you’d ever seen them before. Your gut stirred. 

“I’ve been dreaming of that,” he told you, before making a face at himself. “Too cringey?” 

You giggled – it sounded foreign. “Just a bit.” But didn’t deter the fact you loved it. 

You warmed when you felt him squeeze your hip, realising his hand was still there and you reached for it, tangling your fingers with his. He pulled them to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly. His expression was thoughtful when he lowered your hands. “In all seriousness, thank you for giving me a chance, after well, you know, everything.”

You smiled, touched by his earnestness, but it was hard to keep a sane mind when his lips were as kiss bitten as they were – deep pink and glistening. You wanted to kiss his face off. 

“It’s no problem,” you quipped, as if you were doing him a favour. 

He chuckled tenderly, and luckily for you he was unable to stop himself from kissing you again. He reached forward, hooking a finger under your chin to press his mouth to yours softly. “I’d really love if we could keep on doing… this.” He murmured. 

“The dating or the kissing,” you grinned, stealing another kiss in the process. 

“Hm,” he contemplated. “Both preferably.” 

And then you were on one another again, eager once more. 

Although, you did manage to pull away briefly to tell him something, his mouth moving to the side of your face to kiss there instead as your hands dragged down his back. You were somehow able to get the words out – ones that made him laugh against your wet jaw. 

“I’m so glad you hit my car.” 

Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[iam93percentstardust]

Hello. I am very interested with WinterIron. Enemies to Lovers, abo with omega Tony, accidental bonding, mutual pining, a lot and a loooootttttt of kissing and touching (with "I do it because of bond" excuses).

Please feel free to cross anything you feel uncomfortable with.

Hi there! I wasn't able to get everything in there, but hopefully there's enough? I loved this prompt so much, it was a fun verse to write in 💙

CW for omegas having few rights in this verse and for creepy Aldrich Killian

As always, everything I write can also be found on ao3

~

mate bond: [meyt bond] noun

1. A mental and physical connection that ties two people together following a mating bite

2. A pair bond between spouses

~

[An excerpt from The Other Half of My Soul: An Exploration into Unconventional Bonding Methods by Anderson-Lopez et al, 1972]

“While rare, it is important to note the existence of mate bonds in individuals who have not exchanged bites. These instances have notably occurred during times of high stress for one or both individuals, and are sparked by an inciting incident of some kind, usually a traumatic event. While these types of mate bonds, dubbed soulmate bonds by the media, frequently occur between individuals who are highly compatible, it is not necessary. Curiously, however, it does seem necessary that the individuals are scent matched for a soulmate bond, even though compatible second genders are not a requirement.”

~

Bucky maintained that it was an accident.

Tony had been meant for Steve, after all. That was the arrangement Howard Stark had decided on with Fury. Bucky had only come along as moral support for the first meeting between Steve and Tony. He wasn’t even supposed to meet Tony first, but the crowded ballroom had been too much for him, so he’d ducked out into the hallway, only to come across two alphas menacing an omega. He supposed that some of Steve’s fiery nature must have rubbed off on him, as he normally would have never taken on two alphas by himself, not when he was down an arm. But he’d taken one look at that omega, pretty brown eyes wide with distress, and leapt into action. It hadn’t been until both alphas had been sent off running with their tails between their legs that he’d realized the omega he’d rescued was Tony Stark, Steve’s arranged mate.

Unfortunately (fortunately? No, definitely unfortunately), the arranged match would never come to fruition as Bucky and Tony had looked at each other and immediately bonded without a shared word or bite between them.

Howard was furious, Fury less so—Bucky was still a SHIELD agent, even if he wasn’t the great Captain America, so the planned union between SHIELD and SI would still happen—but both Bucky and Tony insisted that it hadn’t been done on purpose. And, as neither had a mating bite but could still feel the other at the back of their mind, it was hard to disprove the existence of what had once been called a soulmate bond, though was now called the rather unglamorous name of Mate Bond Subtype C, which Bucky thought sounded like an illness.

The media thought it was the most romantic thing they’d ever heard. Steve, who was slowly courting another alpha from SHIELD, thought it was a relief. Bucky, who didn’t want an omega while he was still recovering from the surgery on his arm, thought it was a nightmare at first.

He didn’t know what Tony thought.

They might have shared a bond between them, but Tony had quickly figured out how to shield his feelings. It had taken Bucky a little bit more practice but he too had worked out how to keep his thoughts and feelings private, which was good, because he doubted Tony would like to know what he was thinking.

They’d been bonded for three months and, while Bucky had moved into Tony’s penthouse apartment, they didn’t share a room, let alone a bed. He still took long missions that took him away for weeks at a time. Tony spent more time at SI’s research labs than he did at home. Bucky hadn’t shared Tony’s heat, nor had Tony shared Bucky’s rut, though neither of them had invited anyone else into their beds. And other than their planned public outings where they had to touch to put on the façade of a happily bonded couple, they didn’t hold hands or kiss or lean into each other, giggling.

The problem was—Bucky wanted all of that. He wanted to sleep curled around Tony. He wanted the two of them to be home long enough to share more than one dinner together at a time. He desperately wanted to share cycles, but even more badly than that, he wanted to touch Tony as often as the omega could stand it. Because the problem was also this—sometime in the course of three months, he’d fallen in love.

~

Tony slid his hand into Bucky’s as they stood in the elevator. “It’s just a quick walk around the ballroom, say hi to a couple investors, and then we can leave,” he said reassuringly, giving Bucky a quick smile. “I know how much you hate these shindigs.”

This was true, Bucky did hate them, but he knew that Tony hated them just as much, though he hid it much better than Bucky did. “Don’t worry,” he replied, squeezing Tony’s hand quickly. “I’ll stick to you like glue.”

“Well, maybe not like glue. Like Velcro, maybe. Howard’s got a couple investors that I know he wants me to meet and that I know you’ll hate so you’re more than welcome to go off and find people more to your liking then. I heard Steve’s coming.”

Bucky had to fight to hide a frown. He knew Tony didn’t mean any harm by the comment, but he hated how Tony thought he wouldn’t want to be by his side even when meeting people he didn’t like. So what if he didn’t like them? He’d still prefer to be giving Tony silent support instead of wandering off and leaving him alone for that long.

Before he can respond, the elevator came to a smooth stop, the doors opening on a soft ding to reveal the glittering ballroom Maria Stark had chosen to host the Annual Stark Foundation’s Shareholders’ Ball, meant to honor those who had given so generously to charity over the last year. The room was decorated in delicate ice-like structures, calling to mind the snow blanketing the city outside, though it wasn’t nearly as cold inside. Golden chandeliers reflected off the dark windows, giving the impression of a never-ending stretch of light. It was all so very glitzy and glamorous. Bucky hated it. It was an obscene display of wealth, meant solely to remind everyone that the Starks were richer than anyone else in the room.

“One hour, Bucky Bear,” Tony murmured like he could hear Bucky’s thoughts. “And then we can go get burgers.”

He dropped Bucky’s hand in favor of sliding his own into the crook of Bucky’s elbow, gently steering him towards the first group of investors. Like every other rich person he’d met since bonding with Tony, they were simultaneously smug of their own “generosity” (mere pennies compared to their bank accounts) and jealous, both of Tony’s wealth and Bucky’s luck in landing a Stark (not his words). The smugness was blatant, the jealousy only slightly hidden in the way their eyes lingered as Bucky took the opportunity to brush his lips across Tony’s cheek, quietly telling him he was going to go get them drinks.

“I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me,” he promised, understanding the minute tightness at the corners of Tony’s eyes.

Tony smiled and nodded, attention already turning back to the investors—or, more likely, to his latest project, however much it might have looked like he was paying attention to Hugh Worthington IV. Bucky slipped through the crowd to the bar. Fortunately, it wasn’t crowded yet and he was able to order a whiskey for himself and a scotch for Tony, who always refused to drink the fruity drinks he actually preferred at these parties, almost immediately. As he waited, he turned back to the crowd, idly scanning it. Steve wasn’t there yet, if it was indeed true that Fury had managed to stuff him into a suit and send him off to schmooze. His eyes sought out Tony, who was laughing as he excused himself from the group Bucky had left him with, moving on to another small throng of people.

He smiled despite himself. Tony was lovely like this, despite his discomfort. Bucky got to see him laugh so rarely at home that he cherished every moment he got to see it while they were out in public.

“Sir, your drinks,” the bartender prompted. He thanked them absently and left a tip on the bar before making his way back across the ballroom to Tony’s side.

Tony wasn’t laughing now. In fact, if his pursed lips were anything to go off of, he was pretty furious, and Bucky wondered what had upset him between him leaving the bar and him returning to Tony’s side.

“Doll,” he said, letting Tony know he was there. Tony turned and took his drink, thanking him with a quick kiss that Bucky desperately wanted to turn into a longer, sweeter one.

“Honey, Senator Stern here was just telling me about an omega’s rights bill he filibustered so it wouldn’t pass,” Tony said, irritation bleeding into his tone.

“Now isn’t that interesting,” Bucky drawled, irritated himself. The bill in question was a law that he knew Tony had backed, as it would have put a stop to the arranged bondings the wealthy were so fond of. They’d both known it would be a longshot to pass, but they’d remained hopeful. “That’s the one that Stevie supported isn’t it?”

“It is,” Tony agreed. “My alpha here—” He patted Bucky’s chest. “—is close friends with Captain Rogers. They grew up together, you know. Steve spends nearly every Saturday evening with us. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear about this bill failing to pass. Isn’t he supposed to be putting in an appearance at the Senate hearing next week? It would be such a shame if he couldn’t make it.”

Tony’s statement was only partially true. Bucky mostly saw Steve at SHIELD, as Steve, despite being always welcome at their apartment, didn’t want to be reminded of how close he’d come to an arranged bonding of his own. But Steve, who had been an omega before receiving the serum, had always been an outspoken supporter of omega’s rights, and now that he was an alpha, and Captain America to boot, he used every bit of that privilege to push as much pro-omega legislature through Congress as he could. He was a thorn in conservative senators’ sides, like Stern, and it was a minor miracle that they’d gotten him to appear in front of Congress to talk positively about a Republican bill supporting an expansion of benefits for veterans, when he normally disagreed with anything Republican just on principle. Steve’s support would go a long way toward getting that bill passed.

Tony’s veiled threat was effective. Stern, one of the authors of the bill, blanched, making Bucky smile. He loved watching Tony do his thing. There was really nothing better than Tony putting bullies like Stern back in their place.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Stern stammered out before hurrying away.

As soon as he was gone, Tony drooped, leaning back against Bucky. It was nice, being able to lend his support to his omega, but Tony was standing up straight again after only a moment, the façade falling back over him.

“I really hate that guy,” Tony said softly. He looked up at Bucky. “Sorry about using your friendship with Steve like that. I was just so angry. Saw red for a second there.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky said. Impulsively, he reached out to clasp Tony’s shoulder, running his thumb soothingly over the soft skin just above his shirt collar. “You guys got a bad lot in life. You do what you gotta do to make it right.”

Tony hummed. “I really wanted that bill to pass. It wasn’t right, what Howard and Fury wanted me to do. I don’t want anyone else to have to go through that.”

“Sorry,” Bucky offered up. It was a lame apology, but he didn’t know what else he could say to make it better. He knew very well that if he and Tony hadn’t bonded that night, Steve would be Tony’s alpha.

To his surprise, Tony smiled and nudged his shoulder, teasing, “I don’t know, you’re not so bad.”

Bucky sputtered, nearly choking on his whiskey.

“Oh, look, Steve’s just arrived,” Tony said airily, like he hadn’t noticed the effect his words were having on Bucky. “Let’s go say hi.”

Talking to Steve at these events was always awkward. Tony and Steve were both aware that neither of them wanted anything to do with each other as mates, which made having to see each other a study in unspoken tension. He didn’t think it was that either of them had a problem with the other, and he suspected that they could even manage to be friends eventually, but it was that knowledge that they’d nearly been forced to mate that made things so tense between them. Still, he appreciated that Tony was willing to put up with it so that Bucky could see his best friend. It was the sort of small kindness that Tony unthinkingly did that had made Bucky fall in love with him so easily.

Tonight was no different. Tony and Steve exchanged no more than a few awkward words before Tony excused himself to go meet with Emma Frost. He didn’t bother kissing Bucky this time, as Steve was one of the few people they didn’t have to pretend with and it didn’t seem like anyone was watching them at the moment. It would have been different if they’d met up a few months ago. There’d been more than a few people who’d somehow got it into their heads that Steve and Tony’s proposed bond was a love match instead of arranged, and they’d all watched eagerly to see how Steve, Tony, and Bucky interacted in those days following Bucky and Tony’s bonding, clearly wondering if Steve was going to pick a fight. They’d been sorely disappointed, of course; Steve and Bucky didn’t fight over anything, let alone an omega that Steve hadn’t wanted.

“So Fury roped you into the dog and pony show, huh,” Bucky asked, eyeing the stiff collar of Steve’s shirt. He’d be willing to bet that it was brand new. Steve was much more at home in a pair of khakis and a flannel shirt than he was in a tuxedo.

“Senator Brandt actually,” Steve said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “He thinks it’s good for me to make appearances and drum up support for SHIELD.”

“Sucks.” There was a niggling worry growing at the back of his mind, unrelated to Steve’s complaints about the brass, but Bucky didn’t know what it was. He glanced around the room, but was unable to spot anything amiss. He tried to put it out of his mind by asking, “How’s working with the Commandos?” He couldn’t entirely keep the bitterness out of his voice. Bucky had been moved out of the Commandos unit a few weeks before meeting Tony, and it wasn’t that he didn’t like being on Strike Team Delta, but he was still irritated that he hadn’t had a choice in the matter.

“Not the same without you,” Steve said, grimacing at him like he knew what was going through Bucky’s mind.

They continued talking about SHIELD as they slowly circulated the room and all the while, that worry was growing stronger, slowly morphing into fear, but it wasn’t until he happened to catch a glimpse of Tony standing in the corner and looking tense and unhappy that he realized they weren’t his feelings. They were Tony’s. Tony was worried and scared and had brought down his shields so that Bucky could feel his emotions and Bucky was standing on the other side of the room like an idiot.

“Excuse me,” he said brusquely, cutting Steve off. “Tony’s in trouble.”

He headed straight for Tony, pushing through the crowd without sparing a thought to anyone he might be offending as he shoved them aside. For once, it was Steve who was trailing after him, offering apologies to everyone who looked offended.

There was a look of naked relief in Tony’s eyes as Bucky marched up behind the alpha Tony was talking to. It was a look he’d never seen on Tony’s face before, at least not directed at him, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that his omega was happy to have him there or disliked that Tony had to be relieved at all.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asked, hand clamping down on the alpha’s shoulder.

“Bucky,” Tony breathed. He sagged back against the wall. “This is Aldrich Killian. He’d like to propose—” Tony’s mouth twisted unhappily. “He’d like to propose an omega trade. I told him I wasn’t interested, but he insisted on talking to you.”

Anger flared in Bucky’s chest, hot and furious. Omega trades weren’t common anymore, used mostly in backroom deals to secure a transaction. You treat my omega right and I’ll treat your omega right, and maybe we can have a deal. He knew the rich, traditional alphas Tony had grown up with still occasionally used them, but he hated them. He’d always hated them. The very concept treated omegas like property, like hostages, and the thought of seeing Tony—his Tony—under someone else had his vision shading red.

“Is that so?” he hissed.

Killian, the idiot, didn’t seem to notice Bucky’s growing anger. “Maya’s a great—” he began to say.

Bucky cut him off with a hand around his throat, slamming him into the wall.

“Bucky—” Steve started, a warning in his voice.

“Tell them it’s SHIELD business,” he snapped. “Isn’t that the usual excuse?”

What Steve did to placate the crowd growing around them, he didn’t know; he was too intent on Killian to care. “Let me get this straight,” he growled. “You asked Tony for a trade and when he told you no, because I know him, he wouldn’t ever want that and he wouldn’t be quiet about it, you cornered him and insisted you’d only listen to a no from me.” It wasn’t a question. Tony’s thoughts and emotions were flooding him with what Killian had tried to do to him. He growled again at the image of Killian’s hand on Tony’s arm, removed after only a moment. This—this—alpha had tried to put his hands on Tony, had ignored his clear no, and was still babbling on about whatever business deal he wanted out of Bucky—or, more likely, Tony, though as an omega, Tony wouldn’t be able to make that decision.

“It’s a yes or no question, Killian,” he finally snapped, losing his temper. “Did you or did you not ignore Tony’s answer—"

“He’s an omega,” Killian tried.

“He’s a person. He’s a person who was clearly uncomfortable with you and you should never have ignored that. The only reason you’re still standing and not laid out on the floor is because he cares about making a scene, but guess what, I don’t.” His hand tightened on Killian’s throat, making the man wheeze. “Do—”

“Bucky,” Tony said quietly, cutting through his anger.

Without removing his hand from Killian, he looked at Tony. Tony still looked a little shaken, but there was something else in his eyes, something that Bucky didn’t know how to describe.

“Let him go,” Tony continued. “You made your point.”

“He—”

“Yeah, he did,” Tony said, knowing what he was going to say. Bucky wondered if his own shields were down, letting Tony read his thoughts and feelings. “And you were here to stop it, so it’s okay. Let him go, we can go get burgers.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to make sure Killian never laid hands on someone unwilling ever again, but then Steve was there, carefully pulling Bucky away as he muttered to him about seeing what Fury could do about Killian. And that wasn’t exactly what Bucky wanted, but it was better than nothing, and taking care of Tony was his priority anyway. So since Tony wanted burgers, he would go get burgers.

He spun on his heels, intent on heading to the elevators, only to freezes as soon as he saw Tony. They were supposed to be faking it, which meant that he should do something—wrap an arm around Tony’s waist or kiss his forehead or—or something. But Tony had just had to deal with an unwelcome touch. He shouldn’t have to deal with another one so soon afterwards.

Tony surprised him though by stepping forward and sliding his hand into Bucky’s, interlacing their fingers. “Come on, alpha. Let’s go home,” he said, leading Bucky through the crowd watching them. Bucky ignored them in favor of drinking in the sight of Tony whole and healthy, if not happy.

They were quiet in the elevator ride back down to the parking garage, quiet as they climbed into the back of the car, quiet as Happy pulled out onto the road. Then Tony slid across the backseat to tuck up against Bucky’s side. He rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder, and, after a moment, Bucky rested his cheek against Tony’s curls.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” Tony said. Bucky could feel the truth in his words through their bond, and he realized that Tony hadn’t put his mental shields back up. “I wouldn’t have asked for your help if I hadn’t been expecting something like that.”

“Shouldn’t have taken it so far though. I know you’re not—we’re not—” He grimaced as he fumbled over the words. He’d been able to admit for three months that he and Tony weren’t in a relationship, why was it so hard now?

Tony hesitated before carefully saying, “We could be.”

“We—what?”

“Bucky Bear,” Tony said warmly, sitting up so he could look him in the eyes. “You have to know—people don’t just do what you did tonight or the night we met, for that matter. Not for me. I—I don’t know, the way we bonded, it threw me off. I wasn’t expecting it and I reacted badly. But—then the way you reacted to Killian got me thinking—maybe we could try?”

“Try?” Bucky whispered.

“Try us?” Tony asked, leaning back in slowly, giving Bucky enough time to move away if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to. “Yeah,” he breathed. “We could try. I—I’d like that.”

Tony smiled at him, bright and lovely, and closed the distance between them.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 133

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,000ish

Summary: Tony finally comes home, but that doesn’t make the problems go away. (Please read the note at the end)

Y/N completely unconscious for a whole 24 hours. The remaining team members never wandered far from her side, too scared to lose another person. When Y/N finally awoke, she knew what had happened. She could feel the change inside her.

“They’re gone…” She croaked, looking at Steve with teary eyes. “The Stones are gone…”

“What do you mean, Y/N?” Steve questioned. “Like you don’t have your powers anymore?”

“I mean, they’re gone.”

“Y/N, I think you’re tired,” Thor said. “If your abilities have left you, then you must be exhausted.”

“No. You have to believe me.”

“Okay,” Bruce interrupted. “I think we need to leave her to rest some more.”

Y/N knew that they didn’t believe her. But she could feel it. The Infinity Stones had been destroyed. Her abilities were gone.

~~~

Y/N was alone in the med-bay when the building began trembling ever so slightly. Concerned as it continued, slowly getting worse, Y/N slid out of bed. The others were not too far in front of her as they all quickly headed out to the yard. Looking up as they all continued to walk, they noticed a ship being carried by a glowing Carol. She carefully landed the space craft, looking at a new shaven Steve with a nod. 

Y/N froze, heart pounding wildly in her chest as the stairs of the space craft lowered. Tony, being supported by Nebula, walked out. She couldn’t stop the tears that began to cascade down her cheeks. Tony was alive. Yes, it was clear that he was barely alive, but there he was.

Steve ran up to Tony, taking him from Nebula to help him stand. Tony gripped Steve’s arm as he joined him.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Tony told Steve.

“Neither could I,” Steve responded.

“I lost the kid.”

“Tony, we lost.”

“Is, uh…? Y/N…”

“I’m right here,” Y/N said, running up and embracing him.

Tony practically melted into her arms, kissing her head and Y/N cried. “It’s okay.”

“You’re alive…”

“You’re alive.”

Y/N and Steve helped Tony inside. Bruce immediately got an IV in him and told him that he needed serious rest and food. While Tony sat at the table, his insisted on knowing everything. So the team began explain as a holographic casualty report listed the names and faces of those they lost.

“It's been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth,” Rhodey stated.

“World governments are in pieces. The parts that are still working are trying to take a census,” Natasha explained. “And it looks like he did... he did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent, of all living creatures.”

“Where is he now?” Tony asked. “Where?” Y/N, who was standing behind Tony’s wheelchair, gave his shoulder a slight squeeze.

“We don’t know,” Steve answered. “He just opened a portal and walked through.”

Tony looked over at a sullen-looking Thor, who as sitting outside on a bench. “What’s wrong with him?” Tony pointed.

“Oh, he's pissed. He thinks he failed,” Rocket responded. “Which of course he did, but you know there's a lot of that's going around, ain't there?”

“Honestly, until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.”

“Maybe I am.”

“We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep Space scans, and satellites, Y/N was even searching Titan over and over, and we got nothing. Tony, you fought him.”

“Who told you that? I didn’t fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street Magician gave away the Stone. That's what happened. There was no fight.”

“Okay.”

“He’s unbeatable.”

“Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?”

“Steve—“ Y/N called, waiting to stop this before it got too bad.

“Pfft! I saw this coming a few years back,” Tony continued. "I had a vision. I didn't wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming. So did Y/N, ya know? She saw this coming too.”

“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus,” Steve pressed.

“And I needed you. She,” Tony pointed back at Y/N, “needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late buddy. Sorry. You know what I need?” Tony stood, pushing things off the table. “I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling you—“ Tony went for Steve, only for Rhodey to try to stop him.

“Tony, Tony, Tony!” Rhodey said. 

“Tony!” Y/N added, though she knew it was no use.

“Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world!” Tony continued, taking his IV out. “Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not— that's what we needed!”

“Well, that didn't work out, did it?” Steve retorted.

“I said, "we'd lose". You said, "We'll do that together too." And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers, we're the Avengers. Not the Prevengers.”

“Okay,” Rhodey said, trying to get Tony back into the wheelchair with Y/N’s help.

“Right?”

“You made your point,” Y/N said. “Just sit down.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

“Nah, nah. Here’s my point. You know what?”

“Tony, you’re sick,” Rhodey said, finally able to guide him back to the wheelchair.

Tony pointed to Carol. “She’s great, by the way.”

“Sit down. Sit.” 

Tony finally gave in. We need you. You're new blood. Bunch of tired old mules!” Tony sprang back up and walked right up to Steve’s face, voice dripping with venom. “I got nothing for you, Cap! I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.”

It was clear that Steve was affected by Tony’s words. The old friends just gazed at each other in tense silence. After a moment, Tony ripped his arc reactor from his chest and shoved it into Steve’s hand.

“Here, take this,” Tony said. “You find him, and you put that on. You hide.”

Tony fell to the ground. Y/N was by his side instantly.

“Tony!” Steve exclaimed.

“I’m fine,” Tony slurred. “I… Let me...” He quickly fell into an unconscious heap on Y/N’s lap.

“You shouldn’t have pushed him,” Y/N whispered harshly at Steve. “But that’s what you do, right? To get what you want?”

“Y/N—“

“No, Steve. Just, no. Tony’s always been blamed for everything. Always. But, you know what, you’re not perfect either and are to blame for a lot as well.”

“I never said—“

“I don’t want to hear it, Steve. Not anymore.”

~~~

Tony was brought into a private glass room, where Bruce was getting him situated. Y/N was seated by his side, while Rhodey stood by the door.

“I gave him a sedative,” Bruce informed them. “He will most likely be out for the rest of the day.”

“Thank you, Bruce,” Y/N exhaled shakily. 

“Of course. I’m going to run a few more tests and give him some more meds.” Y/N nodded, staring at Tony.

“Y/N,” Rhodey called for her attention. She glanced over at him. “I need to know… would you have chosen Tony in the end?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Rhodey… the choice was made for me…”

“I just don’t want him hurt.”

“I won’t. Trust me.” Y/N rubbed her fingers over Tony’s hand. “I love him. And… he’s all I have left.”

~~~

Rhodey walked out to inform the others about Tony’s condition.

“Bruce gave him a sedative,” he told them. “He's gonna probably be out for the rest of the day.”

“You guys take care of him,” Carol said. “And I'll bring him a Xorrian Elixir when I come back.” She walked away.

“Where are you going?” Natasha asked.

“To kill Thanos.”

Steve and Natasha shared a look before quickly walking after her.

“Hey,” Natasha called after her, “you know, we usually work as a team here, and between you and I, morale's a little fragile.”

“We realize up there is more your territory,” Steve added, “but this is our fight too.”

“You even know where he is?” Rhodey questioned.

“I know people who might,” Carol responded.

“Don’t bother,” Nebula said, standing behind Carol. “I can tell you where Thanos is. Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me. And when he worked, he talked about his great plan. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I'd ask "where would we go once his plan was complete?". His answer was always the same: "To the Garden.”” 

“That's cute, Thanos has a retirement plan,” Rhodey commented.

“So where is he?” Steve asked.

They grabbed Bruce and gathered in the common room. Rocket stood on the table with a hologram of a planet.

“When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculously cosmic proportions,” Rocket explained. “No one's ever seen anything like it... Until two days ago.” A shockwave visibly traversed over the planet in the hologram. “On this planet.”

“Thanos is there,” Nebula confirmed.

“He used the Stones again,” Natasha stated. She looked at Steve. “That’s what happened with Y/N. She was feeling the Stones. We have a chance, we could—“

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bruce interrupted. “We'd be going in short-handed, you know.”

“Look, he's still got the stones,” Rhodey said. “So—“

“So let’s get him,” Carol stated. “Use them to bring everyone back.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that.”

“Even if there's a small chance that we can undo this…" Natasha said. “I mean we owe it to everyone who's not in this room to try.”

“If we do this, how do we know it's gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce wondered. “And how do we know that Y/N’s not right? That the Stones are destroyed.”

“She can’t be right,” Steve stated. “Not until I see it with my own eyes.”

“And this will be different because last time, you didn’t have me,” Carol stated.

“Hey, new girl, everyone here is about that superhero life,” Rhodey said. “And if you don't mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?”

“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And unfortunately, they didn't have you guys.”

Thor, who had been eating in the back all this time, stood up and walked over to Carol. She looked behind at him. Holding his hand up, Thor summoned his ax. He caught it as it flew over to him, missing Carol by inches. But Carol didn’t even flinch, instead giving Thor a small smile.

“I like this one,” Thor smiled.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch,” Steve ordered.

~~~

Y/N was sitting beside a still unconscious Tony, reading, when Steve slipped into the room.

“How’s he doing?” Steve asked, awkwardly staying near the door.

“Fine,” Y/N responded, not bothering to look up from her book.

“Look, Y/N, I…” He sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then go.”

“The team knows where Thanos is.” This got Y/N to look up at Steve. “We’re going to go get the Stones back and reverse this.”

“I told you, Steve, the Stones are gone.”

“You don’t know tha—“

“Oh, I don’t? I just wasn’t, I don’t know, connected to them for years? But go ahead. Try and fix this. But I’m telling you it’s too late.”

“Don’t you want to try and get everyone back? Get Bucky back?”

She paused, searching her mind for how to answer. She knew Steve wouldn’t believe her if she told him that she had seen the future. The battle wasn’t over.

“Things happen for a reason,” she replied. “We have to accept it—“

“Unbelievable,” Steve scoffed. “I can’t even—who are you?”

“I could ask you the same question, Steve.” He clenched his jaw. “We are not the same people we were before we froze, Steve. And I don’t know if we’ll ever go back to that.”

“I’ll let you know when we’re home.” 

~~~

When Tony woke up, he was all alone. He was groggy from all the drugs, but he knew he was back at the compound. Looking around the room, he saw Y/N coming towards the room with a tray of food. Her eyes lit up ever so slightly when she met his opened ones.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Y/N greeted with a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a moon landed on top of me,” he responded, voice raspy. “Oh, wait. It did.” He grunted as he sat up more.

“I brought some food.” She set the try on a table in the room. “I didn’t know what you’d be feeling like, so I got a little bit of everything.”

Tony carefully watched as Y/N got his food ready. Knowing her for so long, he knew when something was up.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Y/N sighed, knowing she couldn’t keep anything from him. “The Stones are gone.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean, they’re destroyed. I don’t have my powers anymore. The team also found Thanos, they went to try to reverse what happened.”

“But the Stones are destroyed.”

“They don’t believe me.” 

“What? Why? You’re connected with the Stones.”

“I know… they still didn’t.”

Tony could see how everything that had transpired was weighing down on Y/N, whether she admitted it or not. “We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We can’t stay here. We need to move on. Start our live together.”

“We can’t just leave.”

“We can’t? Why?”

“Well, they… I… I don’t know.”

“Exactly why we need to go. I’ve already got a secluded piece of land with a small lake on it. We can build a house there. Try to find some normalcy.” Y/N looked out the window, biting her lip. “I can see the weight you’re carrying about all this… it’s not solely your fault. Don’t take all of it on yourself.” He reached out his thin, trembling hand. “Let me bare it with you.”

With a teary nod, Y/N set her hand in Tony’s. He tried to pull her towards him. She sat beside him on the bed, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“I love you, Tony,” she whispered.

“I love you too.” 

~~~

By the time the team came back, Tony and Y/N had already put together a house plan. The team came back with the news that Thanos was dead and the Stones were gone, not to Y/N or Tony’s surprise. The two left the compound to Tony’s apartment in the city that night.

They were both extremely sadden by how destroyed and seemly empty the city was. The first night was harder for Y/N than it was for Tony. Due to still being malnourished, Tony spent a lot of time sleeping. Y/N was the opposite, not getting much sleep at all. She was haunted by what happened in her dreams and too scared that if she closed her eyes, Tony would disappear. 

It was dusk, when Tony woke up from a nap. Usually, Y/N would lay beside him or still be somewhere in the room. But this time, he couldn’t see her anywhere. He pushed himself up to get a better look at the room.

“Y/N?” He questioned. “Honey? Where are you?”

No response. With a grunt he stood up, grabbed his cane, and headed out of the bedroom. He kept calling out her name.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

He stopped when he thought he heard something. And he was right. He heard sobs that were clearly trying to be concealed. Hurrying as fast as he could, Tony turned the corner, he heart shattering further than he thought it could at the sight. Y/N was on her knees, in the middle of the living room. Her hands were pressing a blanket to her mouth, trying to conceal her retching sobs. Who knows how long she had been like that, but the blanket was drenched in tears.

“Oh, honey,” Tony hurried over, getting down next to her. He pulled her into him, but she fought it. “Don’t fight me, hun. Please.”

“I’m so-sorry, Tony,” Y/N sobbed. “Please just go… I’ll be fine…”

“It’s clear that you’re not.” Tony pulled her back in, not caring that she was fighting. “You’re carrying too much on your own. Like I said before, let me bare this with you…”

“I-I can’t… cause it’s my fault… if I had tried any harder or pushed myself—“

“Until what? You died? You know that I wouldn’t have been able to handle your— I-I can’t even think about it.”

“It’s just… it’s so hard, Tony… it hurts so much… I watched them dust right before my eyes… the power I was given to stop this, failed me and now it’s gone… I’m—I’m useless.”

Tony’s frail hands took Y/N’s face firmly in his hands. “You are not nor ever will be useless. Especially not to me.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony… I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s okay…” 

He placed a soft kiss on her lips before going in for other, more hungrily. Y/N welcomed it, letting him have entrance into her mouth. When they finally separated, panting, Y/N and Tony locked eyes.

“Help me, Tony,” she whimpered. “Please… take this feeling away…”

Tony nodded before pressing his lips firmly against hers. Y/N guided herself so that she was laying down as Tony hovered over her, pressing kisses down her neck.

“I will always help you,” he whispered against her lips. “Always.”

It was a beautiful, long awaited night of love and passion. Both of them were beginning to feel whole again, completed, in each others holds. Healing was starting to take place because, as long as they had each other, everything was going to be alright.

next chapter >

My dearest Team Bucky, many of you have been so patient throughout this whole series and I ask you to continue to do so. I have a surprise coming your way (and to Team Tony’s). Thank you for your support and please keep reading.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[rogue-durin-16]

AN UNUSUAL YEAR (Part V/V)

Summary: After having little to no interest on girls for five years, Fred suddenly feels the need to nag the shit out of a certain witch, completely oblivious to the reason behind it.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: fluff (+ enemies to lovers)

Tags:

An unusual year: @natural-hearts @manuosorioh @lumos-solemn @westyywifee @whiskeyn-rain @warlock--protection @gossip-girl-ecr @fandomscombine @birdy944 @28cnn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: a little angst, a little snogging 👀

A/N: maybe a bit longer than I expected but it's alright. Also I might write an addition to this story, not sure tho. I hope y'all enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it <3

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/n! Come sit with us?" George waved at me from the Gryffindor table as I entered the Great Hall, prompting me to sit across him and Angelina, and besides Fred. "Where's Mathilda?" He asked as I got closer, leaving my books on the wooden surface.

"She's feeling unwell." As I sat down, I noticed George's arm around Angelina and I couldn't help the knowing grin that tugged the corner of my lips. "The date exchange at the Ball turned out well, huh?"

"I could say the same about you." He wiggled his brows at me with the same grin I had.

I felt a sudden rush of panic going through my body. My eyes traveled to the boy by my side, who was oddly quiet, and I found him already peeking at me.

"Meaning?" I decided to play dumb, taking a bite of my golden slice of toast whilst ignoring the intending gazes of the couple in front of me.

"You two were having a great time last night." Angelina jumped in, leaning over her table. "Didn't see you coming back, Fred." She added, redirecting her eyes to the ginger.

"I did." His brother laughed. "I daresay you two had an intense night." I felt my cheeks reddening, not finding enough strength to meet George's look. "It was about time, really."

I was startled by Fred abruptly standing up. "See you in class." The curt reply he offered before fleeing shocked all of us; specially his brother, who, with a polite apology, left me and Angelina to go after his twin.

"I feel like I shouldn't ask." She spoke quietly.

"I don't have an answer."

I feared she would see through me. I hadn't lied, but my gut told me whatever happened had to do with the change of demeanor he had at the end of our night out.

I wouldn't say it out loud but a part of me began to worry.

The worry stayed throughout that entire week, guilt joining it at some point. Fred's attendance in Charms, Astronomy and Potions had decreased; I had only see him attend once to Astronomy. The only thing he did was play with his quill and, whenever he thought I didn't notice, stare at me.

Ironically enough, we started spending most of the time together; after the winter break, George had incorporated both Mathilda and me to their friend group, which, in different circumstances, would have been great.

Alicia Spinnet gained special interest on my best friend; Lee Jordan would joke about Slytherins and Gryffindors getting together, and Angelina— well, she seemed happier now that she could hang out with all her friends at the same time.

Fred was miserable. Everyone could see it, yet they did their best to cover it up.

George would overcompensate his brother's attitude by being louder and paying extra attention to me, but it worsened the situation.

I wanted to ask Fred what was wrong, but then again we weren't even good friends, so was it really my place to ask?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

George had proposed a trip to Hogsmade a couple of days ago and we all agreed on going, but the day came and Fred wasn't there.

His brother alleged he had a terrible headache and had chosen to stay in bed. We all saw through his excuse, and once more no one said a word.

It was that night that George came to look for me.

"—well then, go get her!" His shouts got into the common room when a second year entered..

"What's this about?" I inquired, coming out to the hallway to see the ginger about to throw hands at my prefect.

"I need you." He stated, quickly losing interest on whatever the prefect had to say. I only nodded and motioned him to move with me far from the Slytherin door. "You have to speak to Fred now." He almost pleaded, a frown of worry forming on his face.

"Sure— wait, now?" I stared at him in confusion.

"Sorry, I know it's late" his apology didn't mean he would ask me to do it in the morning instead.

I let out a sigh before inquiring, "Where's he?"

"The Astronomy tower, I believe." He replied.

"Alright," I said more to myself. "I'll go grab my jacket." He murmured another apology and a thank you before heading off to his House.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I came to a halt at the top of the stairs when I saw him sat against the wall, his knees pulled to his chest with his arms around them, and his face buried between them."Hey there, stranger."

He raised his head, letting his eyes and nose be seen."Who gave me away?"

"George."

"Tosser" he muttered, taking his gaze to the levitating bundle of newspaper on fire that was probably keeping him somewhat warm up there.

"Is it that bad to see me now?" I took a couple of careful steps towards the boy.

"It's always that bad to see you."

"Odd for you to say that," I let myself slide down the wall to sit by his side with my legs stretched out. "given how much you stare."

"Touché." He replied, the ghost of a smile breaking through his depressed demeanor. "What are you doing here?"

"What's wrong?"

"I asked first."

"I asked second." He raised his brows at me and it was my turn to avert my eyes from him. "I'm... Worried. About you."

When I shivered due to the wind flowing through the tower, he scooted closer and moved the little fire with his wand for it to be in the middle.

"You're all dejected and sulky," I explained. "You barely attend to our classes together, and if you do, you don't pay attention." I felt him shift uncomfortable by my side. "I'm... I'm gonna regret this— I miss you being a bloody nuisance."

"I knew you loved it." His teasing, though it was meant to be funny, sounded almost painful.

"now, what's wrong?" He shrugged, his chin resting over his forearms. "Listen, if you're not gonna tell me, it's fine, but at least tell George."

"Are you thick?" The bitterness in his tone took me aback. "Y/n, I fancy you." He hid his face between his arms. "quite a lot, actually." He added in a mumble.

"I figured that at the ball, you know?" This time it was me who scooted closer. "Tell me that's not the reason behind this."

"Would you like me to lie?" He questioned, shame slipping out with his voice. "I'm a very good liar you wouldn't even question it." He took a deep breath before looking back up, stretching one of his legs and leaning against the wall. "At the ball, I tried to start something." He began, fidgeting with his hands. "I... This never happened to me, so I wasn't- I didn't know what I was doing, but I thought I was making it clear." He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "But when I left you—"

"You know I fancy you too, right?" I tilted my head, searching for his eyes. "As in, more than a one time thing."

"That I didn't know." I felt a pang of guilt, realizing that unconsciously I had played a big part on this.

FRED'S P. O. V.

We stayed in silence.

It wasn't an unsettling silence, but the air weighed over us due to the tension floating on it; I needed to defuse it, otherwise it would crush me.

My heart hammered against my chest while I extended my arm to hold her hand on mine.

It's not meant to be nerve-wracking, I thought to myself as I pulled her hand away from her lap; we had already made clear we fancied each other.

The moment she put her head on my shoulder, the tension completely dissipated. I didn't notice the sigh that left my lungs when it happened.

"Didn't put you, Fred Weasley, in the I'm-a-bundle-of-nerves-with-girls category."

"Oh, shut it." I threw my head back, laughing for the first time in a couple of weeks.

"Never." She gave my hand a squeeze and I allowed my cheek to rest over her crown. "You could, of course, find a way to shut me up."

It wasn't her words that cracked me up, but the suggestive tone she used, which took me back to that night in the Duelling Room when I accidentally let slip my feelings for her for the first time.

I raised my head from hers. "Beg your pardon?" I played the fool, trying to hide the ghost of a smile when she shoot me a wide-eyed look. "What are you insinuating, woman?"

"Do you really wanna start the teasing now?" She gave me a warning glare.

"You've just said you missed it." I couldn't hold back the chuckle.

"I knew I was gonna regret it." She groaned, throwing her head back. My eyes, finally on her, traveled to her now exposed neck and collarbone. Though they weren't visible, I could see the trail of kisses I had left there just a few weeks ago. "Stop staring and kiss me."

It didn't take anything else for me to throw the levitating burning paper away and tug her closer by her hand.

The moment our mouths met, I slipped my hand away from Y/n's so I could led her thighs to straddle my legs.

A quiet moan escaped my lips when she rolled her hips against mines; my hands automatically traveled up from her thighs to her waist, pulling her flush against me.

The temperature in the high, cold tower had shot up all from sudden. Just as we were about to start discarding clothes, quick steps were heard climbing up the stairs.

"Fuck!" She whisper-shouted, practically pushing me away as she got up. "Move, move, move!" As she helped me up and we ran to hide, it dawned on me that we were way past curfew. That got me moving.

We waited for Filch to get to the top of the tower before running down as fast as we could.

"No time for goodbyes!" she warned as we rushed through the vast hallways with Filch after us. "See you tomorrow—"

Before she could sprint downstairs to the dungeons, I grabbed her hand and pulled her into a side hall.

"You won't make it to the dungeons." I stated between pants, glancing at the path we had taken. I wasn't able to see the caretaker yet, but his pants could be heard. "Take the other stairs I'll distract him."

"You'll get grounded." She observed, her breathing as heavy as mine, if not more.

"Worth it." I curtly reply, feeling the corners of my lips twisting up.

"You know?" She pushed herself off the wall she had leaned against to catch her breath. "Sometimes you're really sweet."

"Quick!" I tugged on her hand, seeing Filch finally turn the corner. "Gimme a good luck kiss!"

She pulled me down and kissed my lips briefly before taking off in the other direction. I had to tell myself to shake off that stupid smile and run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

The next morning I eagerly made my way to the Great Hall with two goals; having breakfast, of course, and checking if Fred had made it to his House without getting caught.

I soon spotted the group, this time sitting on the Slytherin table.

Soon his eyes found me too, and without saying a word to anyone, he got up and jogged to meet me halfway.

"Did you make it?" I asked, standing way too close to him and therefore attracting some nosey looks.

"By a whisker." He responded, taking a look around before looking back at me. "I was wondering if you'd like to go for a drink after class." I raised my eyebrows at him with a smirk. "We can use a passage to get to Hogsmade."

"Are you asking me on a proper date, Weasley?" I teased with my hands on my hips. "How cute."

He avoided eye contact, deciding to take another look around instead. "I swear if you tease me right now—"

"I'm free after four." I cut him off. "Now if you excuse me, I'm hungry." I passed him by, playfully bumping his shoulder, and made my way to our friends.

I didn't get far before his hands spun me around and cupped my cheeks, giving me a surprisingly deep kiss. "Are you gonna kill me?" He murmured, his lips still ghosting over mines.

"Oh, you know me so well." I replied, feeling my face heating up. We couldn't help but laugh when whistles and hollers came from behind me. "I might kill them too." I added, making fall into a fit of laughter as we pulled away in order to walk to where our friends sat. "I wanna have breakfast in peace." I warned them, sitting down with Fred by my side.

Everyone was giving looks at each other and trying to hold back the giggles, so I knew a comment was coming, but not from whom.

I could instantly tell I wasn't the only one shocked by the speaker. "But you just had him for breakfast." My best friend responded, faking confusion.

"I was just thinking about that!" Lee yelled, a bit too excited.

"Mathilda Foxglove—" I began, everyone cracking up.

"You are doomed." Fred finished, shoving a toast into his mouth to stop his laughter.

"It was worth it." She stated between giggles.

Fred gave me a side look with a half smile and I thanked Merlin no one could see the boy's fingers interlaced with mines under the table.