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randomshyperson · 3 years

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The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Third Year

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapter Words: 7.290K

Chapter Notes: Wanda x Reader friendship is here. And more about the world history. I’m pretty sure this is the last chapter where things are easy going. Just like Harry Potter, things start to get dark during four year. Good reading to everyone, i hope you like the story so far.

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia // @ichala

//-// x //-// //-// x //-//

Your list of materials is much longer in the third year.

Tony complains that you shouldn't have taken so many classes, but you are so curious to explore the areas of magic that you can't help it.

This time, Mantis meets you in the diagonal alley. You were hoping to spend some time with Gamora and Nebula as well, but once you get a glimpse of their father, you know that's not going to happen.

Thanos is a tall, muscular man, and has a permanent aggressive look on his face. He also kept his hands on the shoulders of his two daughters while they were waiting to be attended to at Flourish and Blotts. You also noticed that your friends were wearing very beautiful and remarkably expensive dark green capes, and just like their father's outfit, they had a bundle of a silver snake. That was the first time you understood what Slytherin pride meant.

"He's scary." Mantis commented softly beside you. You nodded in agreement. Groot, who was a little bigger since you saw him last year, jumped on your shoulder, sitting next to your ear. You smiled at the creature before looking forward again.

You and Mantis were standing at the entrance of store, and saw your friends through the window. You gave up the idea of complementing them when you saw their father.

"Let's restock the potions list first, Mantis." You tell her. "Then we'll buy our books."

You meet Tony again at the Leaky Cauldron after you finish. He hides something from you quickly, but you are distracted by an apple muffin flying towards you, and you don't ask.

Bucky was staying at the Leaky Cauldron because his house had a magical accident. His father said something about a persistent spell flood. Since the rest of Bucky's family were muggle, only he and his father were staying there, solving the problem while Bucky's sisters were at his aunt's house.

Since everyone needed to buy the materials for the new school year, Tony asked you to join his friends when you were done buying your stuff.

After lunch with everyone, Mantis said goodbye to you, and you returned Groot to her hands.

You led her to the exit of the bar, but as you walked back to the table, a conversation caught your attention.

"I'm telling you, they saw him in Sokovia." A bearded man whispered. He looked so nervous, you couldn't help but pay attention. The woman standing next to him, a cup of a strange liquor in her hands, rolled her eyes.

"That's miles away, Thomas." She said. "If Korvac gets anywhere near London, the ministry will send him back to Azkaban in two seconds."

"He's already escaped once, Sara." You rebut the man.

You frown at the conversation. Walking back, you have a thoughtful frown on your face, and Tony teases you.

You get distracted by Steve's jokes about the coming year, and forget all about it.

It's only after you've packed your bag, during dinner, that you remember.

"I heard something strange today." You say casually as Tony and your father dine beside you. "Some folks in the Leaky Cauldron were talking about someone escaping from Azkaban."

Your father chokes. Tony stares at you, and ducks his head when your father looks at him angrily. Howard gaze softens when he looks at you however.

"Honey, who told you that?"

You shrug.

"No one told me dad." You reply. "I ended up overhearing two strangers talking about it. I never knew about anyone escaping from Azkaban before, it seemed important."

Tony kicks you under the table, and you frown in confusion. Your father takes a deep breath.

"Honey, listen to me carefully, will you?" He begins, and you worry at his serious tone. "There are important things going on at Daddy's work. Things that could be dangerous." He says and you look at him in surprise. "You and your brother are too young to be getting into such matters, and I hope you will trust me to keep you both safe."

"Yes, dad." Tony assures, but you remain silent. A moment later, you add:

"Daddy, is there anything I can do to help you?"

"No honey." He says taking back his fork.

"It's okay to tell me what's going on, I won't be scared. I can help..."

"Enough!" He exclaims angrily punching the table. You jump lightly in your chair, startled. Your father doesn't look at you. "I don't want you to hear anything about this anymore. You two are children, and it's dangerous. Have I made myself clear?"

You look at Tony, but he is glaring at the plate in front of you.

Swallowing the urge to cry, you get up, hurrying to run to your room.

Your father calls you several times, but you don't answer.

A few minutes after you are in your bed, he appears in your room. His posture is much gentler than before, and he kneels down beside your bed.

"Honey, hey." He calls to you. You keep your face in the pillow, and he sighs. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." He says, and with your silence, he continues. "Can you forgive me?"

It takes a few seconds, but you look at him, and nod. Howard smiles faintly.

"You and your brother are the most important things in my life." He says fondly. "And I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me."

"Dad, you can't control what is in the rest of the world."

Your father chuckles lightly.

"Yeah I know." He says. "Damn, I wanted you to stay a little girl forever, so you wouldn't be so smart."

You laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly.

"You're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" You ask and your father sighs, looking away.

"It's nothing that will affect you honey." He says. "It's just problems of the magical world. I don't want you meddling in something like that. Not at this age."

You sit down on the bed next, raising your pinky to your father.

"I swear I won't pry into such business if you promise to tell me if things get serious enough for me to know."

Her father laughs, raising his own pinky then.

"I promise, kiddo."

You both laugh as you take the oath, and your father hugs you next. When he lets go and stands up, you pull his hand away.

"Apologize to Tony, Daddy." You ask surprising him slightly. "He doesn't like it when you yell either."

Your father sighs, bending down to kiss your forehead. He asked you to go to sleep before he closed the door.

//-//

It is very cold when you arrive at Hogwarts.

But you don't care because all your friends link arms and walk together, making you laugh at the confused looks you get when the other students notice the small row.

Over dinner, your mood changes quickly however.

"I imagine it has come to the attention of many students here, especially the older ones, the recent untoward events in the magical world." Principal Harkness began during the announcement of the new school year. She had a serious and authoritative tone, and deep dark circles under her eyes. You have never seen her like this before. "But for those of you who are not aware, the dark wizard known as Korvac escaped from Azkaban a few months ago." The hall exploded into murmurs at the mention. You saw Professor Strange lock his jaw, probably disagreeing that such a topic should be broached with eleven-year-olds. "After much consideration, the Ministry of Magic thought it best to apply additional security to the castles."

"So, starting next week, we will have special guests at the Hogwarts castles; The ministry has determined that aurors and Azkaban guards will be guarding the outside of the grounds."

The crowd erupted in boos as soon as the words echoed in the hall. Your Hufflepuff colleagues remarked in horror that the dementors, the guards of Azkaban, were terrifying, and you sought your brother's gaze at the Slytherin table, but he was looking earnestly at the principal.

Agatha sighed impatiently, and the hall fell silent. She asked everyone to be careful with the guards in Azkaban, not to give them reason to fight back. And then she returned to the daily announcements as if nothing had happened.

You didn't eat very well after that.

History of Magic with Professor Okoye was one of the hardest classes in school.

You were hoping to get decent grades this year, but you were assigned to be with Peter as your pair, so you knew you would have to work for two, as your friend had no interest at all in that subject.

"Why don't you try to pay attention?" You asked slightly annoyed as you made your notes. Quill was drawing small dragons in his notebook.

"I want to be a famous Quidditch player, I don't need to know the history of the Goblin revolution for that."

You sighed, turning your attention back to the blackboard. Several minutes after class had begun, a Gryffindor student raised his hand.

"Professor Okoye, may I ask you a question?" it was Thor Odinson, and he seemed to have grown at least twenty inches over the summer. You noted that his hair was also longer when you looked back, wondering who was speaking.

"Of course, Odinson." The teacher said with a gentle smile. Thor cleared his throat as he lowered his hand, seeming to hesitate.

"Could you tell us about the Mephisto followers?"

The room fell absolutely silent at the mention of the name, and many students looked at Thor with wide eyes. The smile on Professor Okoye's face completely disappeared.

"Where did you hear that name, boy?" she asked sternly, Thor swallowed dryly.

"M-my father, ma'am." He replied. "I heard him send a bawler to the ministry quoting that name. When I asked, he told me to study the history of the wizarding world. I thought I would ask you because I couldn't find anything in the books."

The room looked at the teacher expectantly. Okoye sighed, seeming to decide whether to talk about it or not.

"Listen to me carefully please." She asked as she walked around the tables. "Some years ago long before any of you were born, there was a sorcerer who made all the wrong choices. He sought immeasurable power, and was never satisfied with his own abilities. And many other wizards believed that the quest for ultimate power was something worth dying for. When this wizard became a symbol of power and cruelty, he named himself Mephisto."

Her classmates exchanged startled looks, but the teacher continued to tell.

"The dark wizards and witches who supported this quest became known as the Followers of Mephisto, or Walkers of Death. The magical ministries around the world banded together to put an end to the group, and there was a great battle, where most of these wizards were imprisoned or killed in a duel."

"What happened to Mephisto?" Thor asks suddenly, interrupting the narration. The teacher hesitates, but then gives a reassuring smile.

"He's dead, of course." She assures.

"My mother says he was never found." Added another classmate, you think her name is Valkyrie, but you've never talked to her. Much buzz runs through the room at her utterance, and Professor Okoye twists her fingers nervously.

"When the Walkers of Death were eliminated, Mephisto lost his power." She tells seriously. "The last person who faced him is related to someone in this room actually."

Professor Okoye turns to you, and you want to sink into your chair, feeling your heart soar.

"Auror Howard Stark was the last sorcerer to fight Mephisto before his demise. Thirteen years ago." She says and you feel all the stares on you. "But that's enough from this matter for today, students. Mephisto's story is taboo in our witch community because of the thousands of lives that were lost during that period." She adds, "I hope you will be respectful about the memory of those victims, and not comment on such a thing, or mention the name of this despicable wizard again."

The teacher closes the subject after that, looking upset. You can't pay attention to the class again when she goes back to talking about the magical revolution.

//-//

"Did you knew about that?" You ask angrily when Tony looks unimpressed when you approach him in the third floor hallway, after searching all over the school for him.

He looks tired.

"Stop talking so loud, will you?" He asks looking around. "Of course I knew, I've been researching this story for months."

You frown in confusion, and Tony rolls his eyes leaning against the bookshelf next to him.

"I didn't tell you anything because you're only thirteen!" He adds nervously. "That's not children's business."

"It is my business if it involves our family!". You retort angrily. A group of students walk past you, looking at you curiously, but Tony just pretends to be admiring the trophies until they leave.

"Look, I don't really know what happened, but dad used to be an auror when mom was alive." He recounts. "And then he took on this powerful sorcerer, and mom died when you were born. He became an inventor, switched departments in the mystery, and nobody talks about this Mephisto guy nowadays."

"Do you know what this has to do with the wizard who escaped from Azkaban?" you ask with your arms crossed, Tony gives a chuckle.

"Isn't it obvious, sis?" he retorts wryly. "Korvac was Mephisto's greatest ally at that time. And he escaped from the most secure prison in the world. A lot of people think that means the walkers are getting back in business again."

"My god Tony, why didn't dad tell us any of this?" You ask worriedly and Tony laughs humorlessly, looking upset.

He straightens his posture and points to the glass on the trophy shelf that was propped up.

"And there's more." He says. "Take a look at that."

You turn your face to stare at the objects that were stored there. Most were trophies, but there were also pictures of the Quidditch teams from previous years. Tony is pointing to one of those.

"No way." You whispered as you see it. In the caption on the board, it read "Howard Stark and Erik Lehnsherr receiving awards for their honorable service to the school." It was your father and your teacher, probably in their senior year, and they seemed both content. The magical photograph showed them hugging each other by the shoulders, huge smiles on their faces, and two golden cups in their hands.

"Yes, little sister." Tony said also looking at the picture. "Dad and Magneto were friends in school days. I wonder what happened to Professor Lehnsherr to make him so bitter. He looks happy in that picture."

The sound of the bell announcing the next period makes you jump in fright, as you were completely distracted by the photograph in front of you.

"Let's talk about this later, Tony, I have charms now and..."

"No way, Y/N!" Tony interrupted frowning. "That's none of your business. Dad told me that you promised to stay out of it, and I agree with him. You're too young!"

"Oh and you think he'll like knowing you're investigating this whole story?" You retort and Tony sighs, looking away, "That's what I thought.

"I'm not going to get you mixed up in this story."

"Fine, I'll find out on my own, then."

"Y/n..."

"See you, Tony."

//-//

Having dementors in the castle is really scary.

It's been two weeks since classes started, and with the first Quidditch game of the year approaching, you're pretty anxious.

You didn't make much progress in your research during those days. None of the professors wanted to say anything about Mephisto's time, and you lost fifteen points when you tried to ask Professor Lehnsherr about his school days, for being a snoozer.

The only things you found out other than what Tony told you were what Gamora and Nebula shared with you. They mentioned that Thanos was particularly busy during the summer, and that they had never seen him go to the Ministry so often before.

You also started reading the Daily Prophet, and every day they would publish something about Korvac's escape, even if it was only to say that there was no news in the case.

When the day of the first match arrived, you ignored the strange feeling that settled on the edge of your stomach as if something bad was going to happen.

You are overjoyed when you are in the air, waiting for the match to start, and notice that all of Tony's friends, including yourself, have yellow flags in their hands to cheer you on.

Everything goes well until the end of the first half.

You noticed a bludger almost reaching your chaser team mate, Clint Barton and moved forward to defend him many meters above the stadium. Because it was raining, your visibility was very poor. You knocked the ball away, but lost sight of Clint, although you heard him shout a thank you. As you dived down again, lightning exploded beside you, and you jumped in fright, feeling your ear whistle as you became completely disoriented.

As you began to get used to your surroundings again, you felt your body become completely tense. The cloud in front of you was almost a face shape, it looked like someone with horns or maybe wearing a tiara. The image dissolved in the next second, and you felt a strange chill run through your body. Releasing the broom handle only to hug your arms, you looked down, the whole team many meters away.

When you tried to join them, something came in your way.

Dementors must have been the scariest thing you had ever seen in your life. And there was one of them right in front of you. You widened your eyes in shock, and the creature looked straight at you.

Losing your strength quickly, you felt yourself slipping off the broom. A feeling as if you had been wrapped in a very painful spell overtook your body as you fell.

//-//

You woke up in a jolt, and warm hands pushed you back into bed.

"Relax, kid." Your brother spoke with a smile. "I swear I'll actually forbid you to play at some point."

"What happened?" you asked confused. All of your friends and Tony's friends around your bed.

"You fell off the broom, damn it." He retorted and you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah but there was a dementor up there..."

"Yeah, everyone saw it." Tony interrupted looking annoyed. "Professor Harkness kicked everyone out of the stadium after Professor Strange conjured up the patronus."

"I have never seen Professor Strange so angry." Gamora remarked next.

"Oh, there's something else." Natasha warned moving around the crowd to stand beside you on the bed. "Your broom fell into the Whomping Willow, and well. It' s right here."

In Nat's arms were the remains of what had once been your Nimbus 2000. You sighed in displeasure, but at least you could ask Jarvis to buy you another one.

After you were released from the nurse's office, Principal Harkness was waiting for you in the hallway. She waved for all your other colleagues to go their ways, as she escorted you to the Hufflepuff common room.

"Tell me, dear, are you feeling all right?" She asked tenderly. You nodded in agreement as you walked.

When you reached an empty hallway, she stopped walking, and touched your shoulder so that you would do the same. She knelt at your height and looked deep into your eyes.

"Tell me what you saw up there."

" Professor, I don't remember..." You started to say, but then fell silent, immediately recalling what you saw as you gaze the purple glow in front of you. It was as if your thoughts came out of your lips before you even thought to say them. "I saw an image in the clouds, it was like a horned creature or someone wearing a crown. Then the dementor reached me and I felt an immediate chill and unhappiness. I had the feeling that I was wrapped in a sensation of pain as I fell down."

The professor seemed to absorb every one of your words. She smiled then, her eyes returning to their normal color quickly, making you believe you had imagined the whole thing.

"Thank you dear." She said. "Let's keep this between us, okay?"

When you two walked back, you didn't remember any conversation at all.

//-//

Your first trip to Hogsmeade is amazing.

You buy two bags full of candy at the Honeydukes, and then you and your friends go to the Three Broomsticks, to have some buttery beer.

Quill seems to have become friends with Pietro Maximoff during Quidditch practice, because as soon as they see each other, they greet with a hug.

You ignore the feeling of nervousness that settles on the pit of your stomach when your gaze meets Wanda's.

Your friends don't mind sharing a table with the Maximoff twins, and that's how you end up sitting a few feet from Wanda, Gamora's watchful eye on you trying to understand why you're so quiet and flushed.

"Everyone is so nervous about the dementors at the castle, that I think we should try to do something fun. Like throw a party." Quill suggested to the group. Mantis looked excited.

"I think we could do something before Christmas." Gamora suggested and the group agreed.

"Does anyone have any idea where we can have this party? Quill asked." Since we are from different houses, maybe the common rooms are not a good option. I heard that the Slytherin kids don't really like the Hufflepuffs.”

Quill's teasing makes Wanda roll her eyes, but the rest of the table giggles. You look away to your cup.

"We could use some empty room on the seventh floor." Pietro suggested, and Quill gave an excited exclamation.

"This is a great idea." He said. "If the older students are going to participate, we can get some prefect to cover for us."

Quil looks at you and Mantis has to poke your shoulder for you to notice and pay attention.

"Sorry, what is it?" You ask when you notice all the looks on you.

"Can't you convince Steve Rogers to join us? He's your brother's boyfriend."

You laugh, nodding in agreement

"Okay folks, I'll try to call them all."

On the way back to the castle, after you spent the afternoon talking about the most diverse random subjects and telling jokes, you leave your hands in your pocket, because it is very cold.

Quill and Pietro start playing tag, and Wanda walks alone. You hurry up to join her.

"Hey." You greet with a smile, Wanda also has her hands in her pockets.

"Hey". She responds kindly.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes?"

"Are you asking me?" You say back with humor and Wanda laughs, looking at the floor as she walks. "I… I thought it was cool this afternoon." You confess the next moment, feeling your face get hot. "With everyone together, I say. And you and your brother, it's ... you two are nice."

"Thank you, Stark." She replies with a smile. You move your fingers inside your pocket before you speak again.

"If we're going to be friends, you can use my first name". You say and Wanda looks at you, but you keep looking forward.

"Are you sure?" She asks after a moment. You frown without understanding. "Are you sure you want to be my friend?"

You look at Wanda in surprise. But then your expression softens.

"I thought we were going to be friends last year, but you looked angry every time you saw me."

Wanda laughed lightly, looking ahead.

"Yeah, I… I'm sorry about that." She says. "It wasn't something you did. It was just a few things I heard. And I ended up thinking that you were judging me like everyone else at that school." She tells you. "It would make sense since you saw me face the troll." Wanda whispered the last part. You bit your bottom lip before speaking again.

"You could have talked to me, you know?" You say. "I kept thinking that I had done something wrong."

Wanda said nothing, and you sighed, running your hands through your hair.

"We can forget about it and be friends now, what do you think?" You then suggested a smile on your face.

Wanda looked at you, and her green eyes cause something in your stomach to sink.

"I would like that."

"Cool." You comment breathlessly.

//-//

Being friends with Wanda is so natural that it almost surprises you.

Now whenever you sit down at the Slytherin table, there are two new members in your group of friends.

Eventually you discover that it was Quidditch that build Quill and Pietro friendship, as they stopped fighting because they were spending a lot of time training together.

At the Slytherin table, you know that Pietro and Quill receive angry looks because they are from Gryffindor, but no one has the courage to say anything to you, perhaps it is the deadly stare that Wanda gives anyone who dares to look foully at her brother.

You also succeed in inviting Steve and Tony, in addition to your brother's other friends, to the party before Christmas. Steve says that you all can use the old Astronomy room on seventh-on Saturday, and that the curfew would be at ten o'clock. The news of the party ends up spreading quickly around the school, but your friends don't seem to mind that it stopped being something small just between you guys.

When the day finally comes, you wear a comfortable jeans and sweatshirt set, realizing that it is a choice of clothes much more similar to Muggle-borns than pureblood but no one seems to care.

"Hey, you took so long" remarked Gamora as soon as you went up to the seventh floor and met her at the door of the room. "Come on, everyone is already in there"

As you took some of the non-alcoholic fruit drink that Mantis helped Quill make, you looked around the room. You waved sheepishly when your eyes met Wanda's, who was coming in. She looks very beautiful in her wine red sweater, and she smiled at you, and you didn't understand why you felt your stomach flip.

Soon everyone were all together, talking animatedly on various subjects. When Quill and Pietro started doing a dance competition, you laughed so hard that your belly was aching when they were done.

//-//

You have your first Divination class that week.

Professor Heimdall was already waiting for the students while he was sitting on a kind of ivory throne in the corner of the room, which smelled of incense that made your head spin slightly. It really was a remarkably mystical and mysterious environment, even for a magic school. The illumination was limited due to long white curtains on the walls, and there were many candles scattered around the room. Mantis whispered that this kind of thing was done to increase concentration when working with this kind of magic.

"Welcome to our first meeting on Divination, students, the most complex and unstable of magical arts." began the professor as soon as everyone was seated at the tables spread around the tower. "I must warn you that if you seek answers to your most personal questions here, you will most likely not find them. There is no stability in this subject."

Some students commented softly among themselves, but no one seemed willing to contradict the professor, his yellow eyes roaming over everyone in the room.

"Let's begin today's class with an introduction to the basics of study in divination." He warns, and with a flick of his wand, the cupboards at the back of the room open, and from there several sets of cups fly out to all the tables. Then the professor touches his wand to the teapot on the table, and it multiplies into four pairs, flying around to serve everyone.

When everyone has their cups full, Professor Heimdall goes to the small blackboard, and begins to explain how divination works. You hurry to start writing it down.

Many minutes later, when you have finished your tea, Mantis pokes your shoulder.

"Let me look at yours and you do mine?" she asks and you nod, handing her your cup. You clear your throat, looking intently at the dregs of tea in Mantis' cup.

"I don't see anything." You grumble, trying to concentrate. The powder doesn't seem to form anything.

"Remember to check the symbols in your books." Warned Professor Heimdall aloud the next moment. You took a deep breath, running your fingers across the paper as you tried to identify the images.

"Mantis, let's switch, I don't think I'm getting anything..." You start to say softly looking at your book, when you glance at your friend however, you frown in confusion. She has her gaze glazed on your cup, one hand covering her mouth, "Mantis, what happened?"

She gasps softly, and you straighten your position as you notice a thick tear running down her cheek, feeling your heart soar with worry.

"I'm... I'm so sorry." She sighs breathlessly, dropping her cup on the table. The noise attracts everyone's attention, but Mantis is getting up the next moment, and running out of the room. You stand up, but Professor Heimdall puts his hand on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, miss Stark." He says. "It's common for those more sensitive to divination to have that kind of reaction in their first contact with the spirit world." He explains with a tender look. You don't understand why, but his voice calms you. "Go back to your activity, I will talk to your friend."

He waves to the rest of the room next, and then leaves. You sit back down, exchanging worried glances with Gamora and Nebula who are at the table in front of you.

Your first action is to look at the cup that Mantis has thrown on the table, but the impact has broken it at the bottom, and the liquid has run down the cloth. You sigh in dissatisfaction, using your wand to clean up the mess.

When class is over, Gamora and Nebula quickly join you.

"Any idea what that was about?" Gamora asks as you walk together through the castle.

"No, she just got a glazed look in her eyes, and then she ran off." You count. "I'll try to ask her in potions class."

"Maybe she saw some evil omen." Nebula comments, and Gamora elbows her in the stomach. "Ouch."

You frown worriedly.

"Does that mean something bad is going to happen to me?"

Gamora denies with her head, forcing a smile as if trying to reassure you.

"Bad omens can be many things, even something silly, like losing a sock in your room." She says and you leave your hands in your pockets, not feeling reassured by this information.

"Yeah, but Mantis wouldn't cry over a sock." You retort and Nebula nods in agreement, but Gamora has a serious expression.

"I'd rather think it's nothing bad." She says. "Professor Heimdall said it's normal for sensitive students to have that reaction, isn't it?" She adds and you shrug. "Maybe she's just been watching you lose a game or something, but she was so overwhelmed with having seen something, that she got emotional."

"I hope you're right." You grumble as you reach the stairs. You sigh. "See you at lunch, girls. Have a good History of Magic class."

Gamora and Nebula wave goodbye and head in the opposite direction from you after they watch the staircase move.

You hurry to avoid being late for potions.

//-//

Mantis doesn't come to the dungeon either. You poke Quill in the back as he sits down in front of you, and ask if he's seen her anywhere, but he shrugs, worried that you don't know either. You just sigh, telling him what happened in class.

"I'm glad I didn't take that subject." He says as he hears the story. "I've heard that some people learn to see the day that the other person is going to die. That's scary."

You laugh incredulously.

"That sounds like a lie."

Quil shrugs his shoulders. "That's what I heard."

You wish you could talk more, however Professor Erik entered the room the next moment, and everyone fell silent. You tried to forget about the divination class by concentrating on making your poison antidote correctly next.

//-//

You only found Mantis at lunchtime.

Or rather, she found you.

You had just come out of charm class, and she was waiting for you outside. You looked at her with surprise and concern, but she just smiled, looking much more relaxed than earlier.

"I'm sorry I disappeared." She says. "Professor Heimdall thought it best that I get some rest, and then he taught me some things about aural sensitivity."

"I don't know what that means." You comment making her smile.

"It doesn't matter." She says. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier."

You shake your head.

"Mantis, come on, no need to stress about it." You retort. "I was worried about you, and I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

Mantis smiles, looking forward. You bite the inside of your cheek, finding her strangely calm and distant.

"Do you remember what you saw in my cup?" You ask hesitantly, and a small glint passes through Mantis' eyes, but then she smiles quietly, denying it.

"It was no great thing, I believe." She says. "Professor Heimdall has assured me that it must have been just a bad memory, and that there is nothing to worry about."

You frown, but something in Mantis' expression tells you that she just won't talk about it anymore. Not wanting to make your friend uncomfortable, you don't press the issue again.

//-//

It's Christmas again, and you don't go home.

This year Hogwarts is much emptier than it usually is, and you know that it's because of the dementors.

The vast majority of the families, even those who usually leave their children at Hogwarts, have asked the students to return home. Your father briefly mentioned in his last letter how there were many requests for shift changes during the holiday period.

Tony also stayed in the castle, you knew he was planning to enter the forbidden section of the library, and he had told you to mind your own business when you asked if you could help.

Surprisingly, Gamora and Nebula returned home. It was very unusual because Thanos didn't like parties, but they promised to write to you. Mantis always returned home, so you just handed over your present before hugging her goodbye. Quill and the Maximoffs stayed with you.

"You know you're losing right?" you remarked with amusement as you were spending time with your friends in the Gryffindor communal room, a wizard chessboard in front of you. Quill let out an annoyed groan.

"That game is harder than it looks." He grumbled looking at the pieces. " Knight move to E3 please."

The piece moved, cursing softly that Quill was making a stupid move, and you laughed.

"Can't you see her bisbe right there you idiot? "Squinted the black item, and Quill sighed in irritation.

"You want to play by yourself, do you?" He retorted, and Pietro and Wanda who were watching you two, giggled.

"Are you talking to the game, Quill?" Pietro teased as if the boy in front of him was crazy.

After you beat Peter, it was your turn to face Pietro. He was a much better player, but he still made a lot of thoughtless moves.

Someone walked past the door, and you heard noises of footsteps, and then there was a girl joining you all.

"Hey, Monica!" Pietro greeted the girl cheerfully as soon as he saw her. The girl smiled at him. "Guys, this is Monica Rambeau, she is..."

"Professor Rambeau's daughter." Quill completes as if it is obvious. And you and Wanda smile at the girl. "Everybody knows Monica, man."

"What are you guys doing?" The girl asks curiously.

"Playing chess."

"Losing at chess, you mean right?" you tease with a smile. Pietro and Quill laugh in agreement, Wanda is distracted by the book in her hands.

"Do you want to hang out with us?" Pietro asks.

"Actually, I'm going to go outside." Monica says excitedly. "I just went in to get a coat. Darcy and I are going to make a snowman. Why don't you guys join us?"

You exchange glances with your friends. They all seem to think the same thing. And that's how you end up in the outside yards, in a snowball war.

" Back off, Pietro, I'm on your team!" You yell at the older Maximoff who has just hit you with an icy snowball to the chest. Pietro laughs.

"In war it's every man for himself!" He shouts running toward you. You laugh as you run away from him, preparing to hit Quill who is in the opposite direction.

"Hey, get down!" You heard someone shout and you turned around, obeying the order as soon as you noticed Darcy's raised arm toward you. She threw a snowball at someone behind you, and you laughed when Pietro let out an exclamation. Running toward the girl, you thanked her with a wave of your hand before running back.

After hitting Monica and Quill twice, you ran out of Pietro's reach when he appeared at your side, laughing. Stumbling, you ended up miscalculating your speed, and knocked Wanda down next.

"That's a foul." Joked Pietro as he watched you two fall, laughing along with both of you. Before he could throw a snowball at you, Quill was back and he ran. You helped Wanda up as you apologized for knocking her down.

"One point each." She says holding the snowball at chest height. You smile, and wait for her to throw the snow at you. She laughs when she has done so gently, pushing the ball against your shoulder, the icy liquid running down your blouse making you shiver slightly.

You pick up a snowball from the ground next, but when you look at Wanda, her face flushed with cold, and emerald eyes sparkling with amusement, you don't have the heart, and just smile wryly, making her look at you curiously.

"What is it?" she asks confused by the way you are just looking, making no mention of throwing the snow at her.

But the moment was broken next, when you all heard an animalistic noise nearby, and turned your heads with curiosity.

A few meters away was the guardian of the lands, Drax, leading a line of winged horses through the snow. You and your friends let out a chorus of excitement.

"Wow, look at the size of those horses." Pietro commented looking in the same direction.

"They're not horses, people!" Monica exclaimed excitedly. "They're unicorns! Mom said we were going to study them next class don't you remember?"

Only when Monica said this did you squeeze your eyes shut to get a better look, and you could see the white horns in the distance. Drax waved at you from a distance when he noticed that you all were looking. He led the horses to the area where the class on Magical Creatures was usually held, and you saw that Professor Rambeau was waiting for him.

After that, it seemed to get colder. And you all decided to go inside and have some hot chocolate, as you took your friends into the kitchens. The elves were happy to serve you sweet breads and cakes, even outside of dinner time.

//-//

On Christmas morning, all of your friends, including Tony and Natasha who was Tony's only friend to stay at Hogwarts, gathered at the same table in the main hall for the gift exchange.

"Stop fussing, boy, you'll mess up the presents!" You heard Darcy complain to Quill. She and Monica were also with you because Pietro invited them. Neither of you guys minded, because they were very nice.

"I'm just trying to get a peek." Retorted Peter raising the gift package in the air out of Darcy's reach.

"It's not your gift, so you can't look!"

You laughed at the interaction, finishing opening the package in front of you. Natasha had given you a new collection of wand care products and you loved it.

"You do need to take better care of your wand indeed." Teased Tony when he saw the gift. You laughed while waving a middle finger at him, and stood up to hug Nat in appreciation.

Most of the gifts were clothes, and candy. You bought a collection of exploding snap cards for Quill, and he was very pleased, already throwing the cards on the table to play with everyone. Pietro and Monica eventually agreed to participate, while Darcy watched them.

"That's mine right there." You said shyly to Wanda as she picked up one of the packages from the stack. "I hope you like it."

Wanda bit her lower lip in anticipation as she opened the package. And when the red scarf became visible, she fell silent, and it was your turn to be nervous.

"I know you're from Slytherin and all, but I've noticed that you really like red." You hasten to justify. "And then I saw this scarf in Hogsmeade and I remembered that day after charms class that you forgot your scarf and Pietro lent you his and so I thought it would be a good idea and..."

"I loved it." She interrupts looking at you. Her cheeks redden and a tender smile on her lips. You relax with relief immediately.

"Oh, right." You say. "Good, then."

You think you've been looking into Wanda's eyes too long, because your face is starting to heat up. But Peter gives a celebratory shout for getting the card move right, and you and Wanda look away quickly. She puts on her scarf next, and you look down at your lap to hide the silly smile that insists on escaping your lips.

//-//

When classes at Hogwarts return, the Dementors leave.

Apparently there was a big commotion in the Ministry of Magic. You hear many students commenting on this during the class break. And then there is a story in the Daily Prophet saying that Korvac was killed in combat with aurors in London, but there are also many people saying that this is a lie, and that he has run away again and the Ministry of Magic doesn't want to assume to the public.

Anyway, Headmistress Harkness removes the dementors from the castle and the atmosphere in the school improves considerably.

Nebula has a large purple mark on her left eye when she returns. Gamora tells everyone that she fell off her broomstick. You choke when she tells only you that it was Thanos who did this after he caught her snooping in his office.

"You can't tell anyone about this, okay?" She asks tearfully and you nod frantically, hugging her to calm her down. "I've never seen our father like that."

"It's okay now, Gamora." You say tightening in your embrace. "I will help you."

When you write to your father, asking what to do in a situation where the dangers are indoors, he says that Stark Mansion is big enough to accommodate your friends.

When you come home for the vacations after doing very well on your final exams, Gamora and Nebula are with you.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision #wandaxreader #wandamaximoffxreader #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #harry potter au #wanda x yn #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

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adventuresinwonderlust · 3 years

Text

Title: Caution to the Wind

Pairing: yoongi x reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, tension, first kiss, solo masturbation (f), mentions of erections, mentions of virginity and losing it (friendship pact)

*AUTHORS NOTE: Warnings will update per chapter as things get steamier*

Permanent Tag List: @mochilicious-yoongi @heyimtavia

Rating: 18 and over

January:

This was fine. You were fine. Min Yoongi was NOT your boyfriend. He was your childhood friend, who you experienced your first everything with. You both new that your fun experiments were all in preparation for this moment right here, a college party. You swallowed back the amber liquid in your cup, watching him laugh and flirt with a random girl who wasn’t you. You nodded to yourself and turned away. The sting of tears burning, so desperate to reveal themselves. You’re fine! You kept telling yourself. You look over at him again to see the girl tugging at the lapel of his flannel shirt. You squeal internally, dying inside, wanting so badly to interrupt. You promised each other you wouldn’t let feelings get involved. You would only fool around so not to be the only virgins at college but this, this was so hard. You drop your red solo cup on a side table and walk over to him. “I’m headed back to the dorms ok. Have fun.” You nod and walk off past him. You sniffle back the tears that threaten once again. How did you get here? How did this happen? Fucking morning wood that’s how! You think back, racing out of the frat house to hail a cab.

June:

It was normal for you and Yoongi to sleep over each other's houses. Although you were both normally at your place since your mom was laxer. You had both fallen asleep watching a movie, the sun rise now peeking through your curtains. You grumbled, rolling over to find Yoongi lying on his back, soft snores escaping his slightly parted lips. You waved your hand over his face to see if he was really sleeping or just pretending. No movement. You smile to yourself, enjoying watching your best friend sleep. The angelic way he looked, the calm way his chest moved up and down, how he rested his hand on his tummy. You shifted the covers down from your over warm bodies, running your hand over his, gasping to yourself at the sight of his erection. You looked up at his face again and find him still fast asleep. You had heard of morning wood before. Your female friends had talked about it. They said it was a natural, normal reaction men had. Some of them even told you it was the best erection to have sex with. You swallow back the lustful lump in your throat, waving your hand over his face again. No movement.

You bite your lower lip, your hand hovering over his morning wood, desperate to touch it. Yoongi suddenly takes in a deep breath rolling away from you and nuzzling into the pillow. You release the breath you had been holding, turning your back to him, tucking a pillow between your legs. You gently and carefully begin to hump it, tucking your lips into your teeth to hold back your moans. That’s when that warm feeling begins to build, fireworks soon exploding in your brain. You can’t help but whimper, soft cries leaving your now open mouth. You still, your high dissipating, gasping when Yoongi rolls over and wraps his arm around your waist. “Shh. It’s ok Y/N, you're just having a nightmare. I’m here with you.” He mumbles into your ear, his soft snores soon following. You rest your arm over his, intertwining your fingers, falling back to sleep.

A few hours later, you make your way down to your kitchen to find your mother and Yoongi deep in conversation. “Good morning Y/N,” Your mother greets, “How’d you sleep?” “She had a nightmare last night.” Yoongi chuckles, sipping his coffee. “I did not.” You scoff, grabbing a mug. “You did so, you should’ve heard her Ms. Y/L/N whimpering like a puppy. It was cute.” Your mother rubs your shoulder while your face turns beet red. “You having nightmares sweetheart?” “I’m fine mom. Yoongi’s just teasing me like always.” “Well, you two, time to buckle down and get some dorm shopping done. I’m really excited about you two going off and having the whole college experience. I’ll come by after work and pick you both up and we can head to Ikea. Yes?” You both nod, your mother kissing your head as she heads out. “Yoongi call your parents and let them know you’re here please, so they don’t freak. Have a good day and don’t spend it all on the couch!” She hollers back at you both.

“Why did you lie about having a nightmare?” Yoongi asks, eyeing you suspiciously. “Maybe because I didn’t have one.” “I heard you.” “You misheard.” “I didn’t mishear anything. You were practically crying in your sleep.” “I was not. So, drop it.” “Look you even woke up grumpy. It’s ok to have nightmares. We all do sometimes. It’s normal. That’s what you get honestly for watching those stupid horror films.” “Yoongi, please, just shush.” “OK grumpy.” He smiles, sipping his coffee. “What do you want to grab at Ikea today?” You ask him, taking a seat at the table with him, coffee and toast in tow. “You know they say stress can cause nightmares. Are you stressed about moving out of your moms house and into the dorms?” “I didn’t have a nightmare ok! I was masturbating! Now will you just lay off me!” You finally shout. “I knew it! I knew I felt you humping! Oh my God, you dirty little birdie! With me in the bed!” Yoongi starts laughing, holding his tummy. “Shut up ok,” you shout, tossing a corner of your toast at him, “if it wasn’t for your morning wood, I wouldn’t have gotten so worked up.” You word vomit, covering your mouth immediately in shock. Yoongi stills across from you, his eyes wide.

“Are you saying... I… made you… horny?” Yoongi inquires confused. “More like your dick ok, so don’t get all worked up and full of yourself.” You snip, sipping your coffee to keep the flush in your cheeks from becoming visible. Yoongi smiles wide, his gums exposed before giving you a shit eating grin. “Hey, it happens right? I mean we’ve been friends since we were kids. We sleep in the same bed. We were bound to rub against one another at some point. I’d be lying if I said I never rubbed one out after you shoved your ass into me.” He shrugs. “Really?” “Yeah. You’re a beautiful girl. Any guy would react the same.” He smiles. “Except no guy ever has which is why I am going to go to college a complete virgin!” You huff. “Who cares? I’m going to college a complete virgin also, it's not a big deal.” “You’re a guy. It's different for you.” “How so?” “Guys think of taking a girls virginity as some sick conquest. There’s no care or concern towards their feelings. Girls aren't the same with guys. We find it endearing when a guy is still a virgin.” “Yeah right! Girls think a guy is an inexperienced loser if he’s still a virgin.” “Well, if we are still virgins when we hit our second year, let's just sleep together and put each other out of this misery.” You laugh, standing to bring your dirty dishes to the sink. “That’s really funny. I may hold you to that! I'm going to shower.” Yoongi declares, standing and hurrying off to the bedroom.

You both spend the day lounging, watching TV, and making shopping lists for your Ikea trip. By the time your mother arrives back home, Yoongi is fast asleep on the couch. “Long day?” She asks, nodding at your curled up bestie. “Too much dorm planning.” You reply, nudging him gently. He peeks at you with one eye, soon stretching his whole body. “Is your mom home?” He inquires. “I am. Now let’s get a move on. I wanna avoid traffic.” Yoongi pops up quickly and you all head out. “Are your parents sad to have you moving into the dorms?” Your mom asks Yoongi. “Well, I practically live at your place, so I imagine it’s no different for them.” He chuckles. “I don’t think his parents notice he’s gone.” You chime in. “Of course they do Y/N. We parents notice everything. Maybe we don’t say it out loud, but we notice.” Yoongi just nods, deciding not to give input. You know the truth; his parents are strict. They never cared for his interest in music and were not happy to find out he was pursuing it full time in college. They hadn’t been speaking for a while, but it didn’t bother Yoongi much. He just breezed by counting the time till move day.

When you all arrive at Ikea you immediately suggest separate carts, knowing you’re going to fill one up with everything you have in mind. You decide to separate and browse and then meet somewhere in the middle. Yoongi heads off on his own while you and your mom walk through the aisles. “So, how’s he holding up?” She whispers to you. “He’s good. You know Yoongi, he’s super private sometimes. He seems good, normal even. Like nothing is going on at home.” “He’s been at the house a lot. I was worried they kicked him out.” “God no! He just prefers our place.” “Ok, just wondering. Speaking of an inquiring mind. Have you two ever? I mean you’d tell me, right?” “Mom! He’s my best friend!!” “Okay. Okay. I was just asking. It’s not a big deal if you have. I just wanted to know.” “Mom, please. Just stop.” “Ok. OK. Let’s move on. Oh, look at the throws. I love them. What do you think?” “They are nice, but I have so many already.” Two hours pass before you are all done with your shopping, but you feel comfortable with your purchases. “How’d you fair?” You ask Yoongi when you all link up again. “Good. You?” “Really good!” You walk over to the registers and your mom ushers both carts to the check out. “Oh no! Please Ms. Y/L/N, I’ll pay for it.” Yoongi begs, watching your mother wave him away. “My gift to you for making it into college.” She smiles, swiping her card. Yoongi sighs, giving you a pained look. “I’ll pay her back.” “Oh hush. You know she doesn’t mind. She loves you Yoons. Just smile and say thank you.” He nods, walking over and hugging your mother from behind. “Oh! You’re welcome Yoongi.”

“Do you wanna stay at my place tonight? My parents want me to come home. I’d enjoy your company.” Yoongi asks you in the car, showing you a text from his mom. “Yeah sure.” He smiles, chewing at his fingers nervously. “Mom can you drop us off at Yoongi’s tonight?” “No problem.” You head home and drop off all your things, packing an overnight bag quickly and hopping back into the car to Yoongi’s house. You mother waves you off and you both head inside. Yoongi’s mother is in the kitchen prepping for dinner. She looks up briefly at you both, giving you a small smile, that drops when she locks eyes with Yoongi. She nods at him, then turns to go back to what she was doing. “You head up. I’m just going to talk to her.” Yoongi whispers. You nod and take your bag and some of the things Yoongi bought up to his room. You sit on his bed and begin to scroll through your phone when you hear them begin to yell at one another. Your heart pounds in your chest and you move towards the door. She calls him selfish for choosing music over something more sustainable. Then they switch to speaking in Korean. You sigh, feeling your heart break for Yoongi.

You plop down on his bed, hearing his footsteps stomp away at the stairs as he makes his way up to the room. He slams the door when he enters causing you to jump. You drop you phone beside you and look up at him. “Hey you ok?” He shakes his head, making his way toward you. You outstretched your arms, and he falls into your embrace, wrapping his arms around your body. He rests his head on your chest and you run your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry Yoons. I wish she was more understanding.” “It’s almost over. I’m almost free.” He sniffles. It pains you to see him this way and you wish you had more than words for him.

Before you know it, you are awoken to the sound of Yoongi playing music from his laptop. You stretch your body and look over at him. “What time is it? When did I pass out?” “It’s 3am. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” “It’s ok. How are you feeling?” “I’m fine. Sorry you had to listen to us fight.” “Please, don’t apologize! How many times have you been around for my mom and I fighting?” He laughs with a small nod. “Still, it’s rude,” He whispers, “Anyway, I was thinking. About what you said earlier. And I… uh… well… we should. Just do it you know.” Your brow furrows trying to decipher what Yoongi is talking about. “Do what Yoons?” “Be each other’s first…. well…. everything. We’ve known each other forever and we trust each other. I think we should get all the awkward stuff out of the way before we start college that way there's no need to worry when we meet people.” Your eyes pop open as you realize Yoongi is asking you to be his first. “Um, I was kidding.” You blurt out nervously. “I mean, I know at first but maybe it can be for real. No strings attached Y/N. We take it slow, one thing at a time and if it's super weird then we stop.” “It’s going to be weird Yoongi, we are like siblings!” You shout. “Get the fuck out of here! We are not! You literally masturbated to my hard on this morning, please tell me how many siblings do that? Ok, look, just forget I said anything. I'm sorry.” He huffs, putting his headphones back on and turning up his music. You sigh, lying back, mulling the idea over in your head. He is right, you trust him more than any random guy you'd ever meet. It isn't like Yoongi wasn’t hot, you just never thought he would take your offer serious. You turn on your side watching him shake his leg frantically. You wave your hand to get his attention. He looks over at you, tugging his headphones off. “Why don't you come lie down? You can tell me more about the arraignment you had in mind.” He stares at you, completely stoic, before closing his laptop. “We don't have to do anything. I was just, I don't know, overthinking. It was stupid.” He shrugs. You simply tap the bed beside you.

He sighs, pushing away from the desk to make his way to the bed. He lies down facing you, taking your hand in his. You both stare at each other for a minute and you feel your heart flutter. “Kiss me.” You whisper, your body heating from the instant turn on mixed with embarrassment. “What?” He chuckles. “Maybe your idea isn't as crazy as it sounds. I trust you more than anyone. We can start small and work our way up based on how we feel. If it gets weird or uncomfortable then we stop. No strings attached. No emotional involvement. Just two friends helping each other out.” You state plainly, staring at your intertwined hands rather than Yoongi's wide eyes. “You’re serious?” He swallows, his cheeks reddening. “Yeah, only if you want to.” “I mean, yeah, if you want to, I do.” He shyly responds. “Then stop talking and kiss me. We'll start there. We can be each other’s first kiss.” You don’t know why but you both instinctively lick your lips. Yoongi looks down at your mouth, seemingly mesmerized. He swallows hard, the bounce of his Adam's apple making your core burn.

“Here goes nothing.” He smiles, leaning towards you, the smell of his body wash invading your senses. He licks his lips again, rubbing them together right before he presses them gently against yours. You immediately melt into the kiss, your head prickling, heart racing, and it takes you a minute to close your eyes as Yoongi has. Your mind begins to race. How long do we stay like this? Should I pull away? Why does this feel so good? Is he enjoying it? You finally pull away, eyeing Yoongi’s calm face, his eyes still closed as if in a state of bliss. “What? I mean, was it ok?” You ask. He nods. “I was just savoring it. My first kiss.” He chuckles. “Do we keep going?” You ask nervously. His eyes widen. “Do you want to?” “Is that weird?” He shakes his head quickly. “No, I kind of want to also.” This time you lean forward and press your lips to his, raising your hand up to rest at his neck. You think of every movie you’ve ever seen and push your tongue out of your mouth, rubbing it against his lower lip. You swear you feel it right between your thighs, moaning at the sensation. Yoongi moans as well, opening his mouth to grant you access.

You press your tongue against his, realizing that you have no clue what to do next but are completely unable to stop. It’s then that Yoongi impresses you, completely taking over the kiss. He tilts his head a bit, rotating his tongue slowly around yours before removing his appendage from your mouth to suckle on your top lip. Just when you think you have a moment to breathe, he returns his tongue to your mouth, swirling faster, making what can only be described as love to your mouth. You can't stop the soft moans leaving your throat, or how the way Yoongi devours them has you completely soaked. Of all the times you’ve ever touched yourself, you don’t think you’ve ever been as wet as you are now. Curiosity takes over and you reach your hand down from Yoongi’s neck to the front of his pajama pants, dying to see if he is at all affected by this. You pull away from the kiss with a gasp at the feel of his massive erection. “I’m sorry.” You pant, embarrassed that you just grabbed at his hard on. “It's ok Y/N, you can touch it if you want.” He grants in a low lustful tone you’ve never heard before. You heart begins to race and panic hits. “Maybe it's too much. Maybe we should chill for now.” You say quickly, placing your hand flat on his chest.

He nods at your statement, lowering his hand to adjust himself. “I’m sorry. Of course, we can stop. I want to go at your pace. I don’t want to freak you out or make you uncomfortable ever.” “Thank you Yoongi. Honestly, I really enjoyed the kissing. I just want to take our time. It’s my fault I shouldn’t have reached for you.” “Don't apologize. Its ok. I'm ok. I want to go slow too.” He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, and you breathe a sigh of relief. “Let’s get some sleep.” He whispers, pulling a pillow down from the top of the bed to rest in his lap before pulling you into his arms. “Safety first.” He teases and you both laugh out loud. You bite your lower lip to keep from squealing like a little kid. Your first kiss and who better to have it with then Yoongi. You nuzzle softly into your pillow, whispering goodnight to Yoongi before falling asleep in his arms.

#bts smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #suga x reader #suga x you

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

The tricky thing is yesterday we were just children

But now we've stepped into a cruel world

Where everybody stands and keeps score

So here you are, two steps ahead and staying on guard

Every lesson forms a new scar

They never thought you'd make it this far

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Summary: Planning for something in theory is easy... putting it into practice? That’s where the weak are separated from the strong.

A/n: Hello my lovelies! So here is the second part to the last chapter!! If I had posted it all at once it would have been over 20k words so... yeah. I split them up. Also, this gets pretty dark and well, we all know how HBP ends... so I guess that’s a warning. And to add, this went in a completely different direction than I planned, but now it’s closer to my original idea so... Let me know what you guys think! Seriously, I thrive on your approval. (Also, I’d like to see if someone notices a MAJOR problem for these two kids... because I barely caught it myself)

“Oh, my darling boy,” Narcissa crooned, nearing Draco’s bedside. She took his hand though he was in a spell induced coma and could not hear her.

“I’m so sorry Narcissa,” I teared up. “I...”

“Snape explained it all my dear,” She consoled, reaching out for me. “You have nothing to apologize for,”

I all but collapsed in her arms, breaking down into tears as she held me. Though Abby and Pansy—as well as many others including Ernie, Blaise, Greg, Vincent, and Hannah—had comforted me and offered me a solace, it was different having a mother there to hold me and tell me it was going to be alright.

“It was awful,” I sniveled. “I thought... I thought...” I began to hiccup with the lack of oxygen due to my tears.

Narcissa shushed me softly and rubbed my back in a soothing rhythm.

“You’re alright darling,” Her voice was gentle. “Everything’s going to be alright,”

She stayed for the remainder of the night and came back the next day. I was only allowed a day off from classes before I had to return though Draco had still not woken. Though I knew there would be rumors and whispers, and though I expected to have to retell the harrowing story again and again, everyone already seemed to know. And more surprisingly, each student I came across was sympathetic and kind to me and even towards Draco, wanting to know how he was faring. Yet the thing that took me back the most was the amount of Gryffindors who offered their sympathies to Draco, rather than siding with their own Golden Boy. Even McGonagall offered her sympathies.

And for the most part, I completely ignored Harry. The best I could. Which... well. I’d like to say that I did, but I can’t. To be fair, he did try to talk to me on my first day back, two days after his attempted murder.

“Y/n,” He rushed out in the Great Hall as I sat down with Pansy and Abby.

“You need to stay away from me,” I gritted out, glowering at him. “You’re a coward!”

“Look, I didn’t know what the spell would do, okay?”

“No! That’s not okay!” I stood. “You almost killed him! And you would have! Why in Merlin’s name would you use a spell if you didn’t know what it did!?” Bristling, Abby had to place her hand on my arm before I drew my own wand. Her gentle hand allowed me a moment to take a deep breath and cam myself, ever so slightly. “Just get out of here Harry. Don’t... don’t talk to me,”

“Come on, mate, let’s go,” Ron pulled Harry’s arm back, sensing the rising tension in his best friend.

“You’re... you’re not really going to...” Abby asked softly as we sat back down. “About being the bad guy?” She was almost timid to ask.

I sighed and shook my head.

“No,” I admitted. “I just said it because I was mad and scared. I’m not gonna go off and join the Dark Lord,” a sad smile played at my lips. “I... I feel like I have no choice... This path was forced into me because of Precious Potter and I... I don’t want to be angry. I don’t want to be broken... but I don’t want to be walked on,”

“And you don’t have to be,” Pansy encouraged. “We all have your back,” Pansy nodded to the Hall. “We’re on your side,”

“I don’t want there to be sides!” I dismayed, scrubbing my face. “I don’t want to be divided because we still do have the same enemy and...” I let out a sharp breath in defeat. “When did it all become so complicated?”

Abby said nothing but wrapped an arm around me, soothingly rubbing my shoulder.

“It’ll all work out, you’ll see,” She encouraged, sharing a look with Pansy. “For all of us.”

After dinner, as I always did, I went and saw Draco. His steady grey eyes trailed me as I rounded his cot.

“Hey,” He offered softly as I slipped my hand into his. Despite his many blankets and long sleeves, his hands were still ice cold.

“Hey,” I echoed sadly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” There was little confidence in his voice. “How’s class without me?” I scoffed and stared at the intricate carvings on the pillars of the infirmary.

“It’s not the same... nothing is the same...” The depressing thought left my lips before I could stop it. “I do miss walking to class with you though,” A small smile played at my lips at my gaze returned to him.

Wordlessly I reached out and brushed a few stray hairs from his face, my fingers ghosting over the pale pink scar that ran along the side of his face. Maybe fortune was on our side because though his skin was marred with scars, the spell hadn’t left permanent damage to his senses. His skin was still chilled under my touch.

“You’re still cold,” I murmured. “Do you want tea? Another blanket? I’m sure there’s a warming potion around here somewhere,”

“I’m alright,” His lips tugged upward. “Pomfrey and Snape said that it might happen, because of the Dark Magic...”

Worrying my lip, I nodded and intertwined my fingers with his pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“What’s on your mind?” His question was soft.

“Nothing and everything,” I smiled. “Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing... but loved most of all, when she went to sleep, to hear the Angel of Music...”

“Haven’t read that one in a while,” Draco mused softly. “I think they’re having a show in London over the summer holiday...”

I wanted to snap at him. I wanted to say that it was stupid to think about the summer. It was foolish to think we’d survive the semester. That going to the opera shouldn’t be a plan we made on some false hope that we’d actually make it.

But I didn’t.

Instead I entertained the idea. Just for a while. Even if it would hurt later.

“You’d take me then?” I mused.

“Well, of course,” Draco smiled, enjoying that I was playing along. “Of course, Pansy and Abby would come with us,”

I laughed softly at the thought. The false memory of the four of us in some opera house amidst twinkling lights, dressed lavishly, laughing and having fun. I could see myself on Draco’s arm as he held his head high, smiling soft at my antics. I could almost hear Pansy scolding Abby for her poor etiquette. I could almost feel the thrum of the music in my soul and the magic of the performance before me as I was enraptured again by another story.

“I’d like that,” I whispered softly, tears stinging my eyes.

“Then think of it done,”

A silence fell between us.

“Can I stay here tonight?” I asked softly.

“Would you expect me to say anything but yes?” He quirked an eyebrow.

Curled up in his arms, again I thought of everything and nothing, utterly exhausted—mentally, emotionally, physically. Draco still offered a sweet comfort that I had never found in anyone else. A comfort that quelled my anxieties and allowed me to sleep soundly.

“Told you she would be here,” I heard Pansy whisper harshly. “It’s not like it’s the first time they’ve done it,”

“Yes, yes, you’re so smart,” Abby said flatly. “They’re still precious, aren’t they? Even now,”

There wasn’t a response. I shifted through my sleep logged thoughts and blinked my eyes open. Draco was still fast asleep beside me, his mouth hanging slightly open as gentle breaths passed through his lips. Abby and Pansy were forgotten as I watched Draco bathed I the soft morning light.

“Hey Feathers, Dumbledore wants to see you,” Abby nudged my arm. “I don’t think it’s good either.”

Fear and dread struck my heart as I froze.

“Did he say why?” I squeaked out, carefully slipping out of the bed, not to rouse Draco.

“No, just that it was a serious matter,” Abby frowned at me. “Are you okay?”

“Do you really want the answer to that?” I mumbled. “Please stay with him, tell him where I am when he wakes up. And if he tries to come and find me, make sure he doesn’t. He’s still healing,”

Timidly I made my way up to Dumbledore’s office, a list of a thousand things that could go wrong sprinting through my mind, willing them all true. Those thoughts however, changed and funneled when I saw that I wasn’t alone in his office with him. No, Harry, Snape, and McGonagall were all present along with the old headmaster.

“Miss Y/l/n, thank you for joining us,” Dumbledore smiled kindly.

“Yeah... okay,” I closed the door behind me. “What’s this about?”

“What happened in Myrtle’s bathroom,” Snape informed with a monotone voice. “Though I have thoroughly explained that what Harry did to Mr. Malfoy was much worse and you acted in self- defense,”

“Uh... okay...” My eyebrows furrowed. “What exactly did I do?”

“What did you do? You used an Unforgivable!” McGonagall dismayed.

“You tortured me!” Harry exclaimed.

“You attempted to murdered Draco!” I shot back. “What was I supposed to do!?”

“As I said, she acted in self-defense.” Snape cut the tension with his calmed voice.

“That wasn’t self-defense, that was malicious intent,” Harry growled. “You have to mean the curse for it to do any damage,”

“Oh yes, and I’m sure your use of Dark Magic is completely justified,” I snapped, crossing my arms. “And are you really going to play the victim when I have every right to loathe you?”

“Miss Y/l/n,” Dumbledore interjected. “We are not here to point fingers, but rather here the entire story. Both sides.”

“Why isn’t Sprout here?” I looked around. “She’s my Head of House... shouldn’t she be here?”

“This isn’t a House matter,” Snape clarified. “This is a matter of the Order,”

“Of which you are a member,” McGonagall finished. “Now please, your side of the story,”

My mind processed this information then I began my tale.

“Draco was having a panic attack, so I led him to the nearest quiet place that I could find—”

“Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom?” McGonagall clarified and I nodded.

“I was comforting Draco—walking him through grounding and Harry burst into the bathroom. Draco got defensive of me, drawing his wand, and Harry cast a hex at the two of us... I remember telling Draco to stop... there was water everywhere. And then Harry,” I glanced over to the golden boy who was sulking in his chair. “Cast whatever awful spell that was. I didn’t think. The Unforgivable was the first spell that came to mind...” I paused, drawing in a sharp breath. “Then there was so much blood. Merlin...” I wrung my hands together in a desperate attempt to wash my clean hands of blood that was no longer there. “I did cast the spell, and I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m sorry for hurting you, but not for defending Draco,”

“I see,” Dumbledore nodded. “Well, it seems that all’s well that ends well,”

Harry and I both sputtered, glaring each other down.

“She should be going to Azkaban!” Harry exclaimed.

“Oh, you should really keep your comments to yourself Potter,” I snarled.

“If I remember correctly Mr. Potter, you also cast an Unforgivable at Bellatrix not last year,” Dumbledore raised an ancient eyebrow at a fuming Harry who instantly fizzled out.

“You cast an Unforgivable and you have the nerve to accuse me! Oh, stars above Harry where does it end with you!?”

“That doesn’t count! She was trying to kill me! She killed Sirius!”

I stared at him in quelled anger. “Funny,” My voice was calm and even. “I could have sworn I did it for the same reasons,” I watched the color drain from his face. “But I get it, I’m not the Chosen One, I don’t get free passes, do I?”

“Miss Y/n,” McGonagall warned.

“Am I free to go? I need to get back to Draco,” I looked to Snape.

He gave a seldom and I rushed out of the office, practically running back to the hospital wing. Abby caught me in her arms, stilling me outside the door.

“Hey, talk to me,” She demanded. “What happened?”

“Harry needs to mind his own damn business,” I growled. “He told that I used an Unforgivable against him after he tried to kill Draco. After he already used one last year! And he has the nerve—”

“Y/n?” Draco’s shaky voice was a lot closer than I thought it would be. It had to mean that he was up and walking.

“Dray?” My anger softened to concern and hope. “Draco what are you doing up?”

“You could have given us more of a warning about how much he would fight us after telling him that Dumbledore wanted to speak to you,” Pansy muttered, Draco’s arm slung around her shoulder.

“Sorry?” I offered, taking Draco’s weight, freeing Pansy. “You need to stay in bed,” I scolded him softly.

“How could you think that I would? How could you just leave?” His voice was trembling and uncertain.

“I know, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” I led him back to his cot, setting him down gently. “Forgive me?”

He nodded as I pulled the blanket back over him. Pansy and Abby aided me in getting him settled again.

“This is so stupid,” He groaned. “I should be there with you,”

“A few more days, my love,” I comforted softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Then you’ll be back beside me,”

__________________________________

Draco’s eyes met the plated silver. His reflection mocking him. His pale skin was decorated— was that the right word? Ruined, perhaps—with faded pinkish scars.

Of course, his mother had been livid. Visiting him in the hospital wing more days than not until he was medically cleared to go back to class, she was there, pacing, muttering, threatening, demanding.

Your sentiments matched his mother’s but ever since the fateful day that Harry had taken him inches from death, you had gone silent with a cold ruthless fury. A look that only faded from your eyes when they met his. Then adoration was evident. Love and dedication was evident. Kindness.

As he stared at his reflection, the phantom memory of pain danced along his skin.

“Hey there handsome,” Your gentle voice caught his attention. Catching the sight of you in the mirror he turned, leaning against the vanity.

“I don’t remember you ever calling me that before,” He mused, slightly teasing—part of him wondering if you were just saying it to make him feel better.

“I know you Draco,” You pressed off the doorjamb you were leaning against and took his hands. “Self-assured, confident, absolutely gorgeous,” A smirk hinted at your lips. “But I know you’re unsteady right now.” Gently your fingers traced the scars on his hands trailing up his arm making him shudder.

“And what of you?” He asked softly, bringing your hand to his lips pressing a kiss there softly, reveling in the warmth of your skin; something that he had lost, his skin retaining an icy chill with the dark magic that plagued it.

“What of me?” You countered softly. “I’m quite assured that I’m beautiful to those who matter to me... call it vanity,”

A chuckle escaped his lips, your words reminding him of Pansy. “No, that’s no mystery. You are stunning,” Your arms draped lazily around his shoulders as you waited for him to continue. “Are you okay? I know you, and you’ve been... I don’t know. Withdrawn? Distracted?”

He feared the anger that flashed in your eyes until you seemed to blink it away. With the fluttering of your eyelashes the ire turned to sorrow. Your shoulders rose and fell with the deep breath you took.

“I’m tired of being walked on. I’m tired of people underestimating me. Of thinking I’m harmless or weak.” You paused but then your eyes met his pleading, “I know who I am, I really do. I’m just tired of other people not seeing it.”

Draco smiled at you, reaching up and caressing your cheek delicately. “And?” He knew you had more on your mind.

“I’ve had enough of Harry thinking he can get away with anything.”

Draco nodded. Before his prejudices against Potter had been just that—prejudices. Now? Now they went so much deeper. The hurt and pain that Harry had caused to you and him was something that couldn’t be brushed off. Draco’s anger matched yours when thinking of Potter, but maybe the difference was he had never seen it from the outside looking in.

“He almost killed you Draco,” Your voice wavered. “If Snape hadn’t shown up, you would have...” Tears pricked your eyes and you quickly shut them. “I can’t... I can’t lose you... and I never want to feel helpless like that again,”

Draco cupped your face softly, your eyes meeting his as quiet streams of tears trailed down your cheeks.

“And you won’t have to, but my love,” He sighed softly and pressed a kiss to your forehead before drawing you into his arms, “I don’t want you to lose yourself... I know you’re angry, and I know you’re scared... I know you wish it would all just go away, because I do too,” He sighed deeply. “But we can’t lose focus on who we are,”

“When did you become the wise grounded one?” You pouted into his shoulder, earning a small chuckle from him.

“Some girl brought me back down to Earth,” He mused.

“Must have been some girl,” He could hear the smile in your voice.

“Oh, she’s quite wonderful, I think you’d love her. I know I do,”

“Sap,” You accused, smiling up at him.

“And yet you love me anyway,”

“I do,” You pressed up on your toes, your lips brushing against his softly.

The day that he returned to class, as expected, he got plenty of stares. Students gawking at him and whispering behind his back. Not that it was new for him. But maybe you were right—he was unsteady. You still held his hand in the halls though, and still looked at him as you would a piece of artwork. And whenever he became uncertain about his appearance your gently smile and soft kisses created phantom memories that kept him grounded.

“Ginny and Harry are together,” Hannah gave off hand one day at dinner.

Draco’s eyebrows raised in surprised. Your face soured a bit as your eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table where sure enough Harry and Ginny were sitting together amidst their friends. He pressed a kiss to your temple, pulling you a bit closer. The pout didn’t leave your face, but your focus reverted back to your friends before you.

Draco hadn’t spoken to or gone near Harry since he had been back to class. The only real struggle was Potions, but Harry seemed content on ignoring him, and with Ernie as Draco’s partner, Draco’s thoughts weren’t consumed with Harry. Ernie was actually quite pleasant in class, Draco had to admit. Though he was a bit reckless and impulsive in a childlike manor, but he wasn’t impossible for Draco to work with. In fact, Draco almost preferred to work with Ernie because Ernie didn’t treat him any differently after his near-death experience. It was a vein of normalcy.

“This should work,” You lowered your wand, running your hand over the mended Vanishing Cabinet. “We should be done,”

His eyes met yours. There was hope in your warm eyes. Draco gave a seldom nod and grabbed an apple from his bag. It was the first test. Though weeks ago, the apple had made it to Borgin and Burkes, the live finches you had sent hadn’t survived. You mourned the small birds and buried them beneath your tree by the lake.

The apple was closed behind the wardrobes doors and after counting to thirty, your hand gripped tightly in his, Draco opened the door again and saw that the apple had a slice cut out of it. You let out a steady breath and went to the golden wire cage, with gentle grace setting down the small bird into the wardrobe. You closed your eyes, refusing to watch as he closed the door this time. Thirty seconds again, he opened the door, and the small finch was there, staring up at the two of you, an apple slice in his mouth.

You let out a scream of excitement and joy as you gathered the bird into your hands and kissing its small head before setting it back in the cage to enjoy its treat.

The next was a crow, easily transfigured from a goblet. Draco ser the bird into the cabinet and closed the door yet again. The ruffling of wings faded for twenty seconds until he heard frantic cawing and agitated movements. Throwing open the door, the crow flew out. With a quick flick of your wand the crow was a goblet once more, falling harmlessly into the piles of rubbish around the two of you.

“I have to go,” You breathed out, words that he had been dreading.

“Y/n,” He refuted. “We don’t know if it’ll work for larger animals, Pinnae might not make it.”

“It worked for the crow,” You pointed out. “Pinnae can make it,”

“It’s too dangerous,”

“Draco,” You gave him a flat look. “I need to go,” You took his hands into yours. “It’ll be okay, I’ll be back. If not, I’ll just fly back here from Diagon Alley.”

“You make it sound so simple,” He nuzzled his nose to yours.

“Because it is,” You smiled, pressing your lips to his fleetingly. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

“Please be careful,” Draco dismayed as your morphed into Pinnae, fluttering into the base of the wardrobe.

Then he closed the door, trapping you in darkness. Thirty seconds had never been so long.

There was a knock on the door then it slowly opened. Your smiling face was shining as you crawled out of the cabinet.

“It works,” You breathed out, amazed.

“By Merlin it works!” Draco exclaimed, spinning you in his arms.

You laughed and held onto him tightly. The two of you celebrated with laughter that turned to tears. When the entire world seemed against you two, at least one thing went right.

“I love you,” You sniffled through tears.

“Stars, I love you too,” He breathed in the scent of you deeply, burying his head in your shoulder. “We’re gonna make it,” He was almost hopeful.

“We’re gonna make it,” You affirmed.

“Who’s there?”

You and Draco froze, staring at each other in paralyzing fear.

“Hello?” The voice called again.

You sagged and let out an aggravated groan. “It’s Trelawney,” Gritting your teeth you let go of him, sighing. “I’ll go see what she wants. You get to Snape and tell him we do this tonight.” There was fierce determination in your eyes.

Draco nodded and watched as you made your way toward the exit. He could hear your faint conversation with the professor. Giving you five minutes head start, Draco slipped from the Room of Hidden Things undetected.

“It’s done,” Draco panted out, catching his breath after nearly running to Snape’s office. “The raid has to be tonight,”

“I see,” Snape rose. “And you’re certain?”

You burst into the office just then, also out of breath. “Harry and Dumbledore are leaving to go find something called—”

“Silencio!” Snape casted the spell on you, proving you mute. Infuriated, Draco drew his wand, stepping between you and the professor. “Calm down, she’s in no harm,” Snape rolled his eyes and lifted the spell. “But be careful with what you speak. It is wise to hold your tongue.”

Fuming, you nodded still.

Draco lowered his wand and took your hand.

“Now, you both know the task ahead of you?” Snape questioned. Silent nods affirmed the question. “Very well. He will be pleased, Draco. Very pleased indeed.” Another silent moment passed. “You have twenty-three minutes.”

Draco took your hand and pulled you into the hallway and along the corridors.

“Go, find Abby. Warn your friends. Warn your house. No one needs to get hurt. We’re already doing enough damage,” His voice was soft and gentle as unshed tears lingered in his eyes.

“I love you,” Your voice broke as he cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours desperately.

The kiss was hasty and despairing. Though neither of you would admit it, you both knew that it was a kiss goodbye. The warmth of your breath against his was the last of your warmth that he expected. The urgency of your fingers in his hair was the last of your comfort that he sought. The taste of your mouth was the last of your sweetness that he accepted. The softness of your lips was the last of your peace that he pursued.

“Twenty-three minutes,” He breathed out before letting you go and heading down to the murky waters of the Slytherin Common Room.

The Mark on his arm burned and Draco knew that Snape had called the others of the raid. A plan set into motion long ago, now coming to fruition.

____________________________

“Y/n!” Abby called my name as you burst into the common room. “What’s going on?”

My friends were all gathered in the common room as Abby tossed to me something small and shiny. A galleon. My galleon. From D.A. I might have cursed.

“How does he even know?” I chucked the galleon into the fire, watching it ricochet a flurry of ashes. My eyes met Abby’s. “It’s tonight,”

She nodded, knowing what it meant, knowing what was expected of her. A plan made long ago, that was now set into motion.

“Okay, this is going to get very bad, very quickly.” My voice trembled as I looked at all of the horror-struck faces before me. “But please, I need you all to keep the younger years safe. I need you to stay out of the halls until Abby comes and gets you.”

“But what about you?” Ernie asked.

“Look, you’re going to hear things. Awful things about Draco and me. And I can’t deny them, nor should I ask for your forgiveness. But please,” Tears streamed down my face. “Believe that everything I’ve worked for... everything I’ve done has been for this family,” I looked around the room. “I don’t have much of one by blood, but you? All of you... you’ve always been my family. And Hogwarts is my home.”

Abby’s arms wrapped around me and I could no longer hold back my tears. Soon there was a massive comfort pile and I was in the center of it. My friends, my family all there, all holding me close.

“So, what do you need us to do?” Taylor asked. I wiped my eyes and stood tall.

“Someone get word to the Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors that they need to stay in their dorm. You all have about fifteen minutes to be completely locked down. Cast protection spells. Silencing spells. Comfort younger years. Distract them. Do not take an order from anyone unless it’s Abby. Make sure she is not under a spell before you listen to her.” I glanced over at her. “This is a grave matter and lives are on the line tonight. One of which is mine. I don’t know what will happen tonight, but I won’t be coming back. Not for some while.”

“But why?” I didn’t see where the question came from.

“It will all be revealed soon. I love you all. And I hope that you all can forgive me after tonight. No matter what you think of me, please, don’t forget: have courage and be kind.”

They all nodded. I rushed up to my room, changing quickly into dueling robes, pulling my silver cloak on.

“Are you okay?” Abby asked, tying her hair back.

“I’ll be fine,” I drew her in for a hug. “Please just get out alive,”

“You too kid,” Abby smiled weakly, taking my hand. “Sister for life,”

“Hufflepuffs for life,” I finished, looking back one last time before taking off through the window and into the night.

With a soft thud I landed on Draco’s floor. He was expecting me. We didn’t embrace another, but instead got to work.

“The Hufflepuffs?” He asked.

“Warned and locked down. Word was sent to Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. The Slytherins?”

“Secured.” Draco affirmed. “Seven minutes,”

“Okay,” I nodded. “The Mark,”

Draco looked out his opened window and chanted something short and unfamiliar to my ears and I watched as a snake coiled from the end of his wand in a thick green smoke and into the sky merging with a skull. I took his hand, standing beside him.

“I still don’t want to kill him,” Draco confessed. “But I’ll do anything to keep you safe,”

“Draco don’t worry about me. Your mother and I have a plan if things go wrong.” It was an easy lie as I met his confused grey eyes. I smiled softly. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

“The Astronomy tower,” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Go,”

I leapt out of his window again and circled the school, patrolling, watching two figures on brooms land on the tower I was destined for. The quiet night was eerily quiet as I landed, perched on a sill, watching Harry and a frail looking Dumbledore. I almost slipped out of Pinnae because of the regret that fluttered in my chest, but it was easily pushed aside.

I watched as Harry hurried over to the door leading to the spiral staircase, his hand just meeting the door as I heard running footsteps from the door opposite to Harry. My eyes trained and waiting for Draco missed whatever had caused Harry to keep fleeing.

“Expelliarmus!” Draco shouted, and I sprang into action, catching the wand in my claws and settling back on the sill.

Standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no sign of panic or distress. He merely looked across at his disarmer and said, “Good evening, Draco,”

Draco stepped forward glancing over to me then to the empty room. He was making sure that we were alone. I wanted to warn him that Harry was close, but I couldn’t not yet. Draco seemed to figure this out on his own however, as his eyes fell upon the second broom.

“Who else is here?” He demanded.

“A question I might ask you.” Dumbledore eyed me before his attention reverted back to Draco. “Surely you’re not acting alone,”

“No,” Draco said. “I’ve got backup.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said as if Draco’s actions were praiseworthy. “And won’t you join us Miss Y/n?”

Draco glanced to me, panicked. That wasn’t a part of the plan. I wasn’t to be human at all. No one was supposed to know that I was there. Not the Order or the Death Eaters and certainly not Bellatrix.

“I know that it’s you my dear, you might as well join us,”

It was a wildcard neither Draco nor I were expecting. Draco gave a seldom nod, looking utterly defeated. Against my better judgement, I morphed back human, wand in my hand as I took my place at Draco’s side, adrenaline and anxiety threading through my chest.

“You always were such a talented witch,” Dumbledore praised. “I assume you had a hand in this plan, finding a way to get the other Death Eaters into my school?”

“Yes,” I answered, my voice shaking.

“You do complicate things don’t you my dear,” Dumbledore’s eyes fell upon me. “To think if Mr. Malfoy never had you, what would have become of him.”

“I don’t dwell on what might have been,” My eyes narrowed at the frail headmaster. “But rather what is to come,”

“Ah yes, your little job,” A twisted smile curled on his face. “Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy,” said Dumbledore softly.

Confusion flitted across my face. Did Dumbledore know what we were here to do? How long had he known? Why the bloody hell hadn’t he said anything? A tense silence fell between us and I could faintly hear the fighting of Death Eaters and The Order occur somewhere below. I winced at the mental images.

“Draco, you are not a killer.” Dumbledore smiled. The words sounded cruel coming from his mouth rather than mine. Condescending.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Draco snarled, gripping his wand tightly.

“Oh yes, I do,” said Dumbledore mildly. “You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley—”

“That wasn’t us,” I interjected. “You really think I’d allow that?”

“Well you are here to kill me, are you not?”

Silently I seethed, gritting my teeth.

“It wasn’t us,” Draco replied coldly. “And we never figured out who it was,”

“Very curious,” Dumbledore mused. “But you were saying . . . yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school, which, I admit, I thought impossible...How did you do it?”

Neither of us said anything. The echoes of the fight below were deafening. My blood ran cold, torn between who I needed to win. One to protect Draco and I. One to protect my family.

“Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone,” Dumbledore taunted. “What if your backup has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realized, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight too,”

“The Order is here?” Frowning I met ancient blue eyes.

“You think I wouldn’t have back up at my own school?”

Betrayal washed through me. I had no idea that the Order was here. That they were the guard against the raid that was merely a plan b. I never wanted them to get hurt. Why wasn’t I told that they were here? Wasn’t I apart of the Order as well? Then it dawned on me.

“You... you manipulated me!” I shouted. “You never wanted me as a part of the Order! You just wanted to keep an eye one me! Never for one moment did you believe in me!”

Draco winced at the realization of my words, as he took my hand, grounding me.

“Who was I to go against your father’s wishes?”

“My father is dead because he believed in you,” I spat.

“He died for you. Not me.”

I growled dangerously.

“But never mind all of that,” Dumbledore waved the thought as if it were something easily dismissed. “And after all, you don’t really need help... I have no wand at the moment... I cannot defend myself.”

I ran my fingers over Dumbledore’s wand in my hand. It was urging me on, daring me to cast an Unforgivable. Begging me to. If I didn’t get my fury under control, Draco might not have to kill Dumbledore. Because I would.

A silence fell again.

“I see,” said Dumbledore patronizingly. “You are afraid to act until they join you.”

“I’m not afraid!” Draco snarled, though he still made no move to hurt Dumbledore. “It’s you who should be scared!”

“But why? I don’t think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe... So, tell me, while we wait for your friends... how did you two smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I hissed. “We had the plan since this past summer. We could have easily done it by Christmas, but Draco and I deserved another year together at our home,” My words dripped venom as they met the crisp air.

“We had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one’s used for years. The one Montague got lost in last year.” Draco explained because anger claimed my voice, deeming me silent.

“Ah.” Dumbledore’s sigh was half a groan. He closed his eyes for a moment. “That was clever... There is a pair, I take it?”

“We don’t have to explain anything to you,” I whispered, my eyes closed as I tried to reign in my anger.

“I see,” Dumbledore smiled. “But I suppose that I was incorrect when I assumed that you were not sure you would succeed in mending the cabinet and acted rashly? It does leave me to wonder who did almost kill Ms. Bell and Mr. Weasley.”

Draco’s grip on my hand tightened. He didn’t like the loose end any more than I did. “If you suspected us, why didn’t you stop us then?” Draco demanded.

“I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders —”

“He hasn’t been doing your orders, he promised my mother--”

“Of course, that is what he would tell you, Draco, but—”

“But nothing!” I interrupted. “I think Narcissa means a bit more to Snape than you do,”

“We must agree to differ on that, my dear. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape —”

“That’s marvelous,” I deadpanned. “But trust isn’t the same as loyalty,”

“Isn’t it though?” The old professor seemed as if he were having a hard time standing on his own without the help of the railing. I almost offered my aid. “But as for being bout to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now, we are quite alone, I am more defenseless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted...”

Draco glanced to me and a gave a soft smile. The fear and uncertainty in his eyes caused my anger to morph into a fierce protection.

“I see,” Dumbledore went on. “I wonder why Voldemort has let you live so long Miss Y/n. You really do hinder Draco from what is expected of him,”

“Shut your mouth!” Draco snapped. “She is the cleverest, most brilliant witch I’ve met! If anything, she pushes me past what I should be and into who I am!”

“And who are you Mr. Malfoy? Are you a killer?” Neither of us answered. “There is little time, one way or another,” said Dumbledore. “So, let us discuss your options, Draco.”

“My options!” Draco scoffed. “I’m standing here with a wand—I’m about to kill you—”

“My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means.”

Draco’s aspiration to kill Dumbledore might be fading, but my desire for it was growing with each moment that passed as I untangled a web of lies and manipulation in silence about the frail headmaster before me.

“I haven’t got any options!” Draco despaired. “I’ve got to do it! He’ll kill me! He’ll kill her! He’ll kill my mother!”

“I appreciate the difficulty of your position,” said Dumbledore. “Why else do you—”

“No,” The fury in my voice was cold and unforgiving. “Don’t. You. Dare. Don’t you dare make yourself the martyr. You have no idea the hell Draco and I have been through together. Your chosen one almost killed him for Merlin’s sake, and you have nerve to offer a false kindness? As if you were blameless? As if you understood?”

“No, you can’t,” Draco agreed to the weight of my words.

“Come over to the right side,” Dumbledore continued as if I had never spoken, “and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban...When the time comes, we can protect him too. Come over to the right side, you are not a killer...”

“Like you protected my father?” I whispered softly. “When will you see we are on the side of good. But we’re not on your side.”

Dumbledore did not speak. His mouth was open, still trembling, as if to find the right words to manipulate us back to his side.

But suddenly footsteps were thundering up the stairs, Draco and I turned, in fear. We were both buffeted out of the way as four black robes burst through the door.

It seemed the Death Eaters had won the fight below.

A lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle. “Dumbledore cornered!” he said, and he turned to a stocky little woman who looked as though she could be his sister and who was grinning eagerly. “Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!”

“Good evening, Amycus,” said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party. “And you’ve brought Alecto too... Charming...”

The woman gave an angry little titter. “Think your little jokes’ll help you on your deathbed then?” she jeered.

“Jokes? No, no, these are manners,” replied Dumbledore.

“Do it,” said the stranger standing furthest from me. He had a deep raspy voice and almost barked the words. All of my instincts told me to run from this man.

“Is that you, Fenrir?” asked Dumbledore.

“That’s right,” Fenrir barked, and I understood. Fenrir Greyback, the savage werewolf. “Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?”

“No, I cannot say that I am.”

Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely. “But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore.”

I choked back a sob, struggling to stand upright. Faces of my family flashed through my mind. Whose blood was on my hands and on his teeth? My world spun as I tried to get it back into order. Draco’s arm wrapped around me, trying to keep me upright.

“Ah, the little harlot,” A familiar voice cooed. “I should have known you’d be the one to stop Draco from his task.”

My eyes flashed up, meeting Bellatrix’s.

“She’s actually helped quite a bit,” Dumbledore interjected. “She has my wand, and she’s the one who made your arrival possible,”

“Shut up you old fool!” Bellatrix sneered. “Now come along little prince, we are short on time,” There was an urgency in her voice that made me hopeful that perhaps the Death Eaters hadn’t won but merely escaped.

“Draco, do it or stand aside so one of us—”

I didn’t take note into who was speaking because just then, from the door that Draco had arrived, came Snape, rushing forward and taking in the scene before him. His eyes met mine then went to Draco’s before settling onto Dumbledore’s.

“Severus...” The plead startled me. My eyes turned to Dumbledore who for the first time tonight was begging.

Snape said nothing but walked forward and pushed Draco and I roughly out of the way. Draco steadied me and we both moved to the back wall, watching the other Death Eaters—even Bellatrix fall back without a word.

Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.

“Severus... please...” Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

“Avada Kedavra!” It wasn’t my voice or Draco’s. But rather Snape’s.

Time around me slowed. Or maybe I could register everything around me all at once.

Dumbledore staggered back, falling, falling, falling down. Bellatrix cackled victoriously. Draco was a solace beside me, clinging to me as if I was his only lifeline.

“Out of here, quickly,” Snape ordered, glaring Draco and I down, a snarled look on his face.

He seized Draco’s cloak and forced him first through the door, with me trailing not far behind Draco. I didn’t bother to look who was behind me. Darkness fell over me and I proved blind. All I could do was cling to Draco’s robe and pray that wherever this darkness led, that there was a light somewhere at the end.

The darkness lifted as the starry night sky stretched before me letting me know that I was on the grounds of Hogwarts, not far from Hagrid’s.

“Go! Off the grounds and disapparate!” Snape ordered. “Go home!”

Draco and I stumbled as we ran through the dark. I wished nothing more than to morph into Pinnae and fly away, but I knew it was impossible. Just as we were at the outskirts of the grounds, Draco had to pull me out of the way of a bright red flash.

“Stop righ’ ‘ere!” A gruff voice called.

“Hagrid!” I called in relief until I realized I was no longer wanted here.

“Y/n?” Hagrid seemed just as confused as I was. “Wah are you doin’ ou’ wiff a bunch o’ Death Eaters?”

“I’m so sorry Hagrid,” I yelled into the darkness as Draco and I kept moving towards our freedom. “Take care of Steve, please!”

The distraction was enough to let a few black robes step foot off campus and disapparate. I turned back, a mistake, and saw Harry sprinting towards us, malice and torture in his eyes.

“I was right about you all along!” He shouted. “Don’t you dare show your face here again!”

Before I could respond, mostly just wanting to scream in frustration, Snape intersected the two of us, allowing Draco to grab my arm and pull me off the grounds.

“Y/n!” He called. “You need to disapparate! Go back to the Manor!” His eyes were wild and wide.

I nodded and wand in hand, I landed softly into the foyer of the Manor.

Of home.

chapter 11

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horansqueen · 3 years

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New Angel - Chapter 16

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1 ☆ chapter 2 ☆ chapter 3 ☆ chapter 4 ☆ chapter 5 ☆ chapter 6 ☆ chapter 7 ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9 ☆ chapter 10 ☆ chapter 11 ☆ chapter 12 ☆ chapter 13 ☆ chapter 14 ☆ chapter 15

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.6k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

I blinked a few times as I stared at my best friend who was simply raising her eyebrows at me with a begging face. It was the third day of us spending time together and if I wanted to be honest, I was not completely over the fact that we had seen Grace the day before. I couldn't take it out of my mind of all evening and Millie and I didn't have a long night. We just ate, watched a movie, and I went to bed. I knew my friend was totally aware of what was happening and I suspected that she didn't mention it because she also needed some time alone.

Last night, right after we ate, Louis had came back. He was alone, fortunately, but he barely talked to us. He just grabbed a bag of chips and locked himself in his room, resulting in Millie and I both a bit confused, angry and sad after seeing the person we still had feelings for on the same day.

That's why today, I wanted to do something else and stop thinking about Grace for a while, but Millie's suggestion was not something I would have thought about, ever.

"Mill, I can't dance."

"Oh yea, I'm not really good either. That's why they call it a dance class."

I rolled my eyes and sighed but she took a step closer, intertwining her fingers together in an attempt to beg me.

"Please please please!" she continued, moving her chin up as she sent me puppy eyes. "I have a wedding to attend in a few weeks and I'm gonna have to dance!"

"Like the way you dance in sweatpants in the living room?" I joked, my lips curling into a smirk.

"Exactly! What if a pretty boy asks me to dance and I keep stepping on his feet?" she argued, getting closer again and tilting her head before grabbing my arms. "Please, Niall! Maybe I'll dance with the love of my life! Do it for the pretty boy!"

Her arguments made me chuckle and I rolled my eyes. "Fine, fine! But I don't do it for the pretty boy, I do it for my best friend!"

"How lucky are they!" she replied, smiling more.

"It's you, silly!"

Her eyes roamed on my face for a few seconds and I held my breath when she threw herself in my arms. Her arms wrapped around my neck, choking me slightly as she jumped a bit, bringing me up and down with her.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you!"

"Yea yea," I replied, trying to hug her back without much success. "Now please I can't breathe!"

I cleared my throat when she pulled away and frowned for half a second at the odor reaching my nose. It smelled like candies, a mix of sugar and fruits, and I just smiled when I remembered how much Millie loved candies. She had probably eaten a few not so long ago and the smell had stayed. I didn't know why but I liked it. It was a good change from the very expensive perfume Grace was wearing.

"What do I have to wear?"

"Clothes, preferably." she let out with sarcasm, a smile on her lips.

"You're missing out, I look amazing naked."

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Yea, I'll never know." she pointed out, making my lips curl more. "Just bring comfortable shoes, I guess."

I expected the evening to be long and boring, but dancing with Millie was actually quite entertaining, like everything we did together. I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to make her twirl, and surprisingly, the movement was graceful and in perfect rhythm. She ended up facing me with a large grin as I stopped her with my hand on her waist. She laughed, shocked by what we had just accomplished, but I sort of thought it was only luck. In fact, I highly doubted we could do it again,

"That was great! You're so good at this!" she let out.

Her hand was on my shoulder and her thumb brushed lightly against the skin of my neck, making me shiver.

"Thanks, but I don't think we'll be able to do it again." I admitted with a chuckle, shaking my head.

"Don't be a party popper okay?" she argued, raising her eyebrows and tilting her chin down. "You need to stay positive!"

Once again, I rolled my eyes as the music started again. We tried dancing one more time but I had a hard time remembering where to put my feet and after a while, we just started laughing together. In the spur of the moment, I moved farther, holding her hand, before pulling her back to me and making her twirl again. When she stopped moving, facing me, my hand squeezed her waist slightly and she chuckled, her eyes getting bigger, once again amazed by how perfect that movement was.

"See? We did it again!"

"Okay, you were right, we're really good at this!"

"It's a gift!"

---

As soon as we stepped foot out of the building, I reached for Millie's hand and made her twirl again. The smile she was now permanently wearing grew even bigger as mine did the same. She giggled and squeezed my fingers before letting go of my hand and we walked to my car in silence.

I waited until she put her seatbelt on to start the car and as I drove, I could feel her gaze on me.

"Thanks for coming with me, Niall." she let out gently, leaning her head on the bench.

"No problem, T'was fun!"

I was surprised of it myself but this evening had been pleasant and my stomach actually hurt from laughing so much. I glanced at my best friend as I turned on our street and realized that it was always fun with Millie. We got along great and we made each other discover things that we definitely wouldn't have by ourselves. I liked that. I liked knowing Millie was helping me becoming a better version of myself, and I hoped I was helping her do the same thing.

"You promised you'd cook for me." she pointed out as I unlocked the door.

I chuckled, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge. "A promise is a promise!" I let out loud enough for her to hear as she joined me. "What would you like to eat?"

"Spaghetti. I'm in that mood."

I got back up and turned to her, raising my eyebrows and sending her an amused smile. "Are you serious?"

"Very."

"I'm ready to cook for you and you literally ask me the easiest meal ever thought of?" I argued before shaking my head and chuckling low. "Alright!"

Millie sat on the counter while I cut a few vegetables for my sauce before boiling water. I handed a mushroom to my friend who grabbed it and quickly ate it, making me smile again.

"Are you gonna help me at all?"

"No."

"You're such a lazy ass!" I laughed, making her shrug.

"I was always the one cooking with Louis when you weren't there. I hate cooking."

I looked up at her and my lips curled on the right sadly. It was the first time on that day that one of us talked about a love relationship and it made me feel a bit down. We were doing so well without them, yet we couldn't help ourselves from mentioning them. It made sense, after all. We used to spend so much time with them that we could link many memories, activities, discussions and thoughts to them.

"You should add that to your list."

Millie scoffed but still sent me a small smile. "What? That I can't cook?"

"No, that he wouldn't do it."

Millie stole an other mushroom from the plate and I slapped her fingers quickly, making her frown as she let out a quick 'ow!'

"You need to find yourself a boyfriend or a girlfriend that can actually cook."

We remained in silence for a few minutes and my gaze kept moving from my sauce to my best friend. I could see emotions appear and leave on her face and somehow, I wished I could read her mind.

"Actually, Louis didn't do much of the things I enjoyed." she admitted, making me frown a bit. "I asked but most of the time he said no, or he canceled, or he didn't show up. That's why it means so much that you came with me today, Niall. No one else would have done that for me."

I felt my heart break a bit in my chest and turned to her, placing my hands on each sides of her thighs before tilting my chin up to look in her eyes. She seemed sincere, sad, and slightly embarrassed, and I moved closer until my stomach pressed against her knees.

"Louis is like a brother to me, but he was an ass with you. He never treated you like a real girlfriend and it's a fucking shame. Mill, you deserve so much better, do you realize that?"

Her eyes traveled gently on my face, her traits softened and she moved a lock of her behind her ear. I was staring at her, making sure she knew how serious I was, and she finally nodded very slowly.

"Now." I let out louder, pushing myself away with my hands before turning back to my sauce. "You taste this and tell me if it's good."

I grabbed a spoon quickly and gathered some sauce in it before bringing it up to her, my hand right under it in case it would drip. I stared at her as she tasted it slowly, licking her lips and tilting her head on the left.

"So? Verdict?" I insisted, raising my eyebrows up.

"Perfect."

"I would have been insulted if you hadn't used that word." I admitted with a smile. "This is the easiest thing to cook.”

Millie laughed and got down from the counter to help me prepare the plates and we finally sat together at the table. I ate slowly, watching her do the same, and when she leaned against her chair, I grabbed my beer and took a sip.

"Okay, it's time." Millie let out with a sigh, taking a paper out of her pocket and unfolding it.

I found it a bit funny that we both kept our lists in our pockets. I thought it would end up obsessing me or that I'd always feel it burn against my thigh but most of the time, I forgot about it to enjoy my day and I was pretty sure it was the same for my best friend.

I moved closer, leaning slightly on the table to see what she was writing.

'He can't cook'

'He never did things that would have made me happy'

I breathed in and reached out for the sheet, sliding it slowly to me. Millie looked up and frowned but I just had to do it. I didn't know much about the relationship Millie and Louis had together. I knew they were close, I knew sometimes they were very cute with each other, and that other times they barely acted like friends, but I didn't know how hurt Millie had been through this whole relationship and somehow, I felt like she didn't know either. I felt like she was just realizing that she was better off without him.

I took the pen from her hand and quickly scribbled something.

'You deserve better. You deserve the best.'

I added my name right next to it to say it came from me and when she read what I had written, she smiled fondly and tilted her head. I could read in her eyes how grateful she was and I mirrored the same loving smile to her for a few seconds before taking my own list out of my pocket.

"Okay, my turn."

I stared at the name of my ex girlfriend written on top and sighed low, closing my eyes for a few seconds. The more I thought about it, the more I found it ridiculous to go back and date someone who's only good point was that I actually loved her. Love was not everything and despite what everyone thinks, it doesn't heal everything, especially if the person you love is the person who also broke you.

What actually took me out of my thoughts was the sound of my phone. I jumped slightly, a bit too deeply lost in my thoughts, and searched my pocket quickly. I held my breath and felt my lips part when I saw the name written on the screen. Summer. Suddenly, I felt extremely guilty. Once again, I had sort of forgotten about her. I only had written one bad thing on the list about her and had been too focused on the way I felt for Grace and spending time with Millie to even take the time to message Summer. I could always pretend I just didn't want to bother her but I couldn't lie to myself.

'I miss you, I can't wait to see you'

The words made me swallow and the cute little emoji with hearts around its head made my heart skip a beat. Unfortunately, it was out of guilt, and not out of excitement.

"Who is it?"

"Summer." I replied low.

"Oh."

Millie had only whispered her word and it made me believe that she had realized too that we had barely talked about Summer in the past few days. I held my thumbs over the letters, not really sure what I should type back. I didn't want to lie, and I didn't want to say the truth either. It made me remember that I hadn't even touched myself at all since the last time I had sex with Summer and it surprised me.

"D'you miss her?"

I looked up at Millie who was raising her eyebrows at me, waiting for an answer. If I could be honest with someone, it was definitely her, and I shrugged a shoulder.

"I mean, not really." I confessed, making my best friend's lips part too. "I'm not to the stage that I actually have feelings for her, and sex with her is good but not... flabbergasting, you know? Plus, we've been super busy doing a bunch of things, I didn't really have time to miss her."

"But you had time to miss Grace."

I sighed and looked down before nodding. "I guess."

"You know, Niall, you don't have to justify yourself with me. You feel what you feel, and that's it. It's not like you can control your feelings. You can only control the way you react because of those feelings. That's what shows who you are as a person."

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, trying to keep my tears in. It was the third day and I only had about four more to decide who I wanted to be with. Of course, I could always take more time, but how unfair to both girls would that be? I couldn't just keep them around for weeks until I make a decision. The problem was, I had no idea who I wanted to be with. I had no idea what to do.

"Tell me, Mill, which one should I pick?" I asked in a murmur.

I felt Millie's hand on mine and my eyes fluttered open to stare at her fingers squeezing mine.

"I can't choose for you Niall, you know that." she explained softly. "Just don't force yourself to do anything. It's your life. Your feelings. In the end, you need to take this decision for you."

I looked up in her eyes and held her hand tighter. She was right, I knew it, but I felt like I would never be completely happy, no matter which choice I'd make.

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan love story #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #niall horan au #my fanfics #newangel

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catxsnow · 4 years

Text

AFTER HOURS chapter ten

Summary: Enemies to the public, friends to their close ones, friends with benefits between them. Rival companies and an attraction that can’t be ignored.

Tim Drake x reader

Warnings: swearing, mature content, smut, 18+ only, mention death of parents, car crash mentions.

A/N: The last chapter friends!! Thank you everyone for your love and support with this series I really hope that you all liked it! If anyone one is interested in a bonus chapter or two let me know with some ideas, I’d love to hear what you guys think :)

Word count: 1.3k

Tim held a brand new set of keys in his hand. They felt foreign compared to his old ones - yet the weight of them didn't bring him down. They brought excitement, a new chapter of his life was a head of him and he was beyond excited for it. The smile on his face wouldn't go away and neither could the giddy feeling in his chest.

Gotham City found it's saviors not in a bat or a bird, but in two young adults who were always frowned upon for being kids. Tim found his savior in her - she was his rock, his everything. (Y/N) found her hero in Red Robin, in Tim Drake, her lover.

She had taken the news just as he expected her too. Worried at first, amazed that he was the hero on the streets, final able to understand the cuts and bruises that he had all the time and the scars that laced him. After the shock had worn off, she became supportive of him. Always there when he came home and wishing him luck and safety before departure.

(Y/N) understood more that there was to him than ever before after the revelation. She fell even more in love with him - though it didn't feel as if that as possible at this point. Nights of falling asleep in his arms, waking up to him, taking care of each other. They had it all - at least all that mattered.

Tim looked over at her. A smile on her face that matched his, the same weight of a new set of keys in her palm. It we a new chapter for them, one that would lead to many more. With his free hand, he's reached over to grab hers.

"New day," she breathed out. It was nerve wracking, making such a big purchase like this together. Their first purchase like this together. Something that she never thought she would expect, nor the people of Gotham. "New place."

"How do you feel?"

She felt a lot of things. Scared for their future together. Grateful that they had found themselves in one another. Worried about the life that they're forced to live, not the one that they wanted. Mostly, she felt in love.

This was a big step for them. Something more than a home, more than a relationship. This wasn't just their future together, it's the future of Gotham. They were willing to risk it all for each other.

"Nervous," she decided with. Tim glanced over to her from his stare at their new building. She held a new look in her eyes that he had never seen before. Nervous was right, she never had this. Tim tilted down to kiss her. His lips soft, yet firm against hers. He was nervous too - even though together they had no reason to be nervous.

"We already live together, how much different can this be?" Tim tried to lighten the mood. That smile she loved so much shone brightly on his face. He loved in less than two weeks after she had asked him. Maybe they were moving fast, maybe the people of Gotham questioned where their loyalties lied with their companies.

All she knew, was that these past nine months of living with him had been the most important, grateful months of her life. She had never been so happy since the loss of her parents - and she could tell that he felt the same way. Though found similarity in their sadness, but they were together for the love that they were about to create from it.

She learned to hate the nights that he came home late with cuts and bruises or the times that he had to go away for team business. (Y/N) also came to appreciate the small moments with him, the ones that were filled with quiet whispers and meaningful touches. They learned together, not apart.

"I think buying our first building together as co-companies is a little different than you moving in," she rolled her eyes at him. The new building they stood in front of was the first of potentially many co-projects that her company and WE would accomplish together. They were partners in this, and maybe longer down the line it'll be more permanent.

"You're right, moving in with you was a lot more fun. This time I get Vicki Vale questioning my choices instead of sex in every room of the house," Tim laughed. His hand travelled down her waist and jokingly squeezed her ass. He was lucky no one was around - otherwise he was sure he would have gotten an earful.

The nine months of running with the press, working their companies all while still trying to get the hang of this new relationship idea - it was a lot. Everything with Tim wasn't perfect, and she never expected it to be. They had their fights - most of which were based off of him risking his life, the other half about hard choices they had to make in their companies.

The idea to work together didn't come thankful to everyone. Many people in their city didn't like the idea of the two of them joining their companies on projects like this one. They didn't want to entrust the safety of the city in the hands of a couple who was still in the honeymoon stages of their relationship.

And (Y/N) couldn't blame them. She hated the idea that one day they might break up - but it wasn't a broken heart she was worried about. It was Gotham. They had decided never to join their companies for good - but projects like this? Putting whatever future differences aside to build an orphanage in their parents names?

That meant more than anything else in the world.

"Mmm, baby, I bought your favourite wine to celebrate tonight," She pecked him once more. Her lips ghosted over the lobe of his ear. "But I'm sure I can find lots of other ways to celebrate with you too, if that's what you'd rather."

"You know me so well, my love," Tim grinned. Her hand grazed down his chest, stopping right at his belt buckle. There was no one around to see them - but he had already gotten enough of her hint that she didn't need to risk it. "As much as I'd like to find the nearest empty room, we've got about ten minutes until we have to go talk to the press."

"Ten minutes is all I need, Timmy," she flirted. Her fingers toyed with the buckle once more, though he refused to look down at her actions. He gabbed her hand as she dared to move it lower. An innocent look remained in her eyes - a look that he knew to not be innocent at all.

"Fuck, do I love you," Tim pecked her lips. He intertwined their fingers, dropping them to their sides. "But I'd rather fuck you properly the second we get home."

"Think you can wait that long, Mr. Drake?"

"Mr. Drake today, huh?" he ignored her teasing. Truth was, if he caved into it, he knew that he couldn't wait until getting home to have her. "What about Mrs. Drake one day?" Tim looked over at her. There was no surprise on her face, no disappointment. She had thought about it lots - marrying him one day.

It seemed that it was always in the books for their future. Marriage with Tim... she couldn't imagine herself with anyone else besides him for the rest of her life. He was the one, he was always the one.

"(Y/N) Drake-Wayne," she repeated it. It rolled off the tongue so smoothly that it sounded like it was meant to be. In his eyes, it was. She was always meant to be the one for him, even when she didn't know it herself. "One day, Tim, it sounds absolutely perfect."

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#tim drake #tim drake imagine #tim drake smut #tim drake x fem!reader #ceo tim #ceo!tim drake #red robin #red robin imagine #tim drake fanfic #red robin smut #red robin fanfic #dc imagine #dc #batfam #batfam imagine #after hours

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drethanramslay · 3 years

Text

A Christmas Miracle

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Leah Garcia)

Word Count: 1650 words

Masterlist

Warnings: None, its fluffy 🥰

Author’s note: Woah its been a while since I have posted and I truly apologize for the lack of content on my side🙈 But here I am, completely in my feels because its Christmas!! Merry Chrysler y’all. I hope you like this fic💓

I have decided to take part in @choicesweeklychallenge and the prompt is in bold- “Merry Christmas, here's your gift.”

I am also taking part in @choicesdecemberchallenge and the prompt is Christmas

Song: I was listening to 80′s/ 90′s Christmas songs so you can do that as well

"Leah?"

Ethan's deep voice reverberated down the hallway as he placed his car keys in the funky bowl he had mixed feelings about.

"It will add some colour to our bare house, E." She had said as she patted his arm but all Ethan wanted to do was throw the abomination into the bay.

It was one of Leah's impulsive purchases in the local flea market which Ethan absolutely hated. While the vendor said it was some form of abstract art, it looked like a mangled kidney. At one point it may resemble a bowl but right now, the neon colours just made Ethan's head ache and itch to trash it.

It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?

"Ethan? I am in the living room." Her lovely voice floated towards him as he hung his coat on the hook and sighed as the warmth of the central heating engulfed him in a bubble of warmth and comfort.

Leah was busy setting up the moderate-sized Christmas tree they had near the gigantic windows through which moonlight poured in. The in-built fireplace was raring with a lovely fire, which cast dancing shadows all around their house- a comfortable and large place with plenty of sunshine and tranquility. It was located a little further away from the hustle and bustle of the city but at the same time, it was a mere ten-minute drive to the hospital.

Ethan found the house adequately decorated and was a perfectly acceptable accommodation but according to Leah, it was dull and in dire need of life. But sadly, the long strenuous shifts at the hospital didn’t give them much time to paint the walls or add Leah’s collection of trinkets.

But it has just been six months since we have shifted. I could always take her to IKEA during the three days off for Christmas.

As he walked in and took his beanie and gloves, he noticed that she was wearing his sweater and socks, which caused his lips to twitch with an amused smile.

"You stole my socks this time?"

She turned around and shot him an innocent shrug, an impish smile on her lips. "They are so much more comfier than mine."

He shook his head as he placed his messenger bag in its place. "At the rate you are stealing my clothes, I won't have anything to wear."

She answered without turning towards him. “You say it like it is a bad thing.”

Ethan rolled his eyes and replied, sarcasm lacing his baritone voice. “You would enjoy that, won’t you?”

She turned and placed a hand on her hip and shifted her weight to her right leg. “I take this no clothes policy at home very seriously. You should start doing that soon my dearest husband.”

He chuckled lowly as he headed towards his wife.

His wife... He still couldn't get over the immense joy he felt when he addressed her that. The day when she said yes to be his, was one of the best days of his life. It was not a very big ceremony, only close friends and family had been invited. It was a mesmerizing, joyous and magical day which he could never forget.

The sheer contentment he felt when he looked at the gold band on his ring finger was a reminder of how their souls were intertwined forever and there was nothing which could compare to the rush of emotions he felt.

He placed his large hands on her waist and turned her towards him. She complied and looked up. A radiant smile made its way on her face which caused an onslaught of butterflies in the pit of his stomach. There won't be a day when he won't feel those butterflies when she smiled at him that way.

He reached to cup her warm cheek causing her to involuntarily shiver. "You are cold Ethan," She chattered.

"Care to warm me up?" He asked with a sly smirk playing on his lips.

Immediately Leah lifted to her tiptoes and Ethan bent down so that their lips could meet. It was a sweet kiss of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment.

She pulled back and her hands reached into his brunette locks and combed her fingers through them. "Now that you are here, can you help me with decorating the place?"

"You want to decorate the place? Isn't the tree enough?"

"Just putting on a Christmas tree and slapping some decorations isn't enough! We need to put up stockings, presents under the tree, streamers, candle-"

"Sunshine... That is way too much."

"No, it's not. It's not like we are lacking place in this dry and bare living room-"

"Minimalistic living is an important lifestyle!"

“No, it is a boring lifestyle. I have told you we need to add more colour-”

They bickered back and forth before coming to a compromise which consisted of setting up the tree, the stockings and a few candles here and there.

Ethan grumbled as he placed a red bauble on one of the branches. 90’s Christmas songs were blasting through the speakers to which Leah sang as she hung three stockings above the fireplace with Ethan, Jenner and her names on it. He stepped to the side, out of Leah’s way as she shuffled in with the fairy lights and a gigantic star.

Jenner was in a very merry mood as well. She followed Leah with what seemed as starry eyes, yipping and providing her input every now and then. As Leah wrapped the tree with fairy lights, Ethan stood on the side and watched the entire scene unfold, a smile on his lips.

The way their small family worked together... Made his heart burst with gratitude, happiness and love.

"E, could you help me put the star on top of the tree?"

Ethan was going to follow through but in the last moment, he lifted Leah, causing her to yelp. "Ethan!"

"What? I am helping you."

She shot him a dry look as she placed the star on top. "You think you are very smooth?"

"Only for you, love."

A gentle blush decorated her face as she awkwardly coughed and straightened the invisible wrinkles on his- their sweater.

I should make her flustered more often.

"Uhh… Do you want your gift now? I mean it's already twelve and technically it's Christmas." Leah asked, her eyes glittering like the inky night sky, an undertone of excitement shining like stars.

Ethan cocked an eyebrow, equal parts intrigued and wary. He nodded his head and Leah skipped towards the dining table as if eagerness provided a boost in her step. She reached for a paper bag with snowflakes printed on it and walked back towards Ethan.

“You might want to sit down for this.”

Uncertainty coloured his features as he took his place on the comfortable couch. “Leah… what is going on?”

“Merry Christmas, here's your gift. Open it,” She handed the bag to him and Ethan stuck his hand inside to find his gift. His fingers brushed against a smooth cloth which he clutched and pulled out so that he could scrutinize it better under the bright light of the room.

“Relax my dad is a doctor…” He read it slowly, his heart thundering against his chest, threatening to leap out as the realization set in.

“Sunshine…?” He looked up to see small tears on the edge of Leah’s beautiful chocolate brown eyes.

“Yes.”

“I am going to be a dad?” He asked, disbelief laced as he held the onesie against his chest. He looked at her face then her stomach.

“Yes, Ethan.”

“We are going to be parents?”

Leah chuckled as happy tears slipped down her face. She nodded her head. “Yes, Ethan. We are going to be parents.”

In a split of a second, Leah was pulled into a crushing hug and spun, causing her to laugh and wrap her arms around his neck. “Ethan!!”

“Leah, we are going to be parents.” Ethan whispered to her as he set her down and gazed lovingly into those familiar earthy hues which had come to be his safe place- his home. Leah cupped his cheek. “Yes, E. We would be some bomb ass parents.”

He placed his hand on her lower abdomen, a grin on his face. “I don’t know what that means but I trust it means well. When did you know?”

Leah smiled lovingly and placed her hand over his. “I found out two weeks ago when I had been late for my period. I had a hunch since I had been feeling sicker than usual. I took a blood test and lo and behold.”

“Did you already do the ultrasound?”

“Nope, I was waiting to tell you so that we could go together, tomorrow morning- well technically today-” Leah continued to babble when Ethan interrupted her.

“Leah?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Ethan placed a chaste kiss on her lips, trying to convey all the emotions he was feeling. All the babbling thoughts on Leah’s mind died immediately as his lips engulfed hers in a passionate embrace. He rested his forehead against hers, his arms still around her. “Thank you so much, Leah… I am so blessed to have you and our little creation. I love you.”

“I love you too Ethan. I am so excited to start this new chapter in our lives together. I can’t wait to tell our family and friends.”

“Your dad is going to kill me.”

“Nah, he won’t”

“Well, I would for our daughter.”

“Ethan... we don’t know if it is a girl. For all, we know it could be a boy.”

“It is a fifty-fifty chance and I have a good feeling it is going to be a girl, sunshine. Can’t wait to spoil all my three girls.” Jenner barked in agreeance in the background causing them to laugh.

And for the rest of the night, they celebrated their Christmas miracle in each other’s arms.

I hope you liked it and it certainly was uncharted territory for me to write married AU😅

Love you all and season’s greetings

Like, comment, reblog and share your thoughts

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rostovs-lover · 3 years

Text

settle

din djarin x reader | a bounty, smooching, way too much flowery language| gender neutral | fluff | wc.1594

this is all flowery writing and i still haven’t watched the second season, so. also, researching for this somehow led me to a 2017 1D gangbang fic on ao3 so that-

hey hey, if you want some requests, i’d love some first kiss fluff with Mando??? however you want to handle the mask thing go for it, i just need some tlc from Din 🥺 if you wanna of course

despite how connected you are to each other, you and Din have only limited yourselves to mere hand touches. but he’s in love and it needs to come out.

The Razor Crest shifted in the air, shaking the bundle of flower against the windshield. They had been picked in a small village, temporary lodging for you and the Child while Din tracked a smuggler from several planets over. It was calm and lush and green and you had been thrilled to present your companion with the little purple bouquet. It wasn’t much, small, half wilted, and tied off with a thin piece of sewing string from your pack but he’d taken it gently in his hands and vowed to put it somewhere he’d always see it. To always have a reminder of you.

When all was said and done, the bounty caught, and you’d found your way back into the ship something had seemed different, more domestic. Floating around in an endless expanse of darkness, just talking. It was so simple, so innocent. Din wasn’t accustomed to the gentleness of domesticity, with his legs stretched out onto the dash and your soft presence floating around the cabin. He sat, still and quietly, listening to your voice, absolutely entranced. He had lived years, decades, on his lonesome, lone bandit doing as he pleased with a lack of regard to anything else. He could go and do terribly risky things. He could almost get himself killed and then thrive off of the adrenaline of living and no one would say a thing. But then there was a child, something small and fragile. He had a life in his grasp, something that would only flourish if he fed and watered it and gave it the right amount of love and sunlight. One lapse of judgement and suddenly the entirety of the universe rested right against his cold leather gloves. Gloves that did unimaginable things, cruel and incredible things. They smelled of blaster residue and guilt, payment for taken lives. He was ruthless until he wasn’t. Until he found a baby, alone, and saw a mirror, saw himself. It had softened him, reduced him to positively nothing.

The child was all he vowed to have, the only thing he would allow himself to love. And Din refused to believe he could open himself to anyone else, refused to let himself have anything else that could hinder him. But Maker, if the body really was made of stardust then a constellation had to give up two pieces of itself for the both of you to be here, together, perfectly aligned. He had surrendered himself entirely at your first words to him, fallen to his knees instead of replying and from that moment forwards Din Djarin, the feared bounty hunter in all his hard, hand-forged armour, had belonged to you. His soul melded into you.

The term “soulmate” was to be used lightly, and as much as he’d thrown the possibility around it wasn’t plausible. Impossible even, that you could be soulmates. Twin flames were more akin to what he felt you were. After one night in a murky inn, it seemed the feeling was mutual. As you’d pressed your hand to his, bare, ungloved, the only part of him you’d allowed yourself to touch. But it had been everything to him. Din had yearned for contact, and when the warmth from your palm bled into his something burned all through him and it still hadn’t left. You hadn’t left, you had burrowed yourself into his heart.

Din sat back in the pilot seat of the Razor Crest, feet propped against the dash. You were talking about a book you’d picked up in the village. It was on botany and certain botanical environments in different parts of the galaxy. You’d known most everything in the book already but it was still interesting and it contained a new tincture. It had also aided in putting the Child to sleep on several restless night. A habit he’d picked up since you’d been the one to put him to bed, only going down with a story, regardless of what it was you were reading. It was something so sweetly domestic, pure and untouched by anything happening through the galaxy.

Din’s life, from an impressionable age, had controlled by a creed. He had grown up loved and cared for but not with parents, he hadn’t ever had a textbook definition family. And in his line of work he couldn’t afford to be familial, let alone paternal. The child was accidental, at best. A cruel twist of fate had put them in the same path, The Child who owed his life for merely existing and Din, who was so feared that sometimes, the terror seeped into his own conscious. But you. You made him want to give up all the violence. He was willing to set his blaster down and never pick it back up. He would shed his brutality, pull himself from a rouge nomadic life if only for a moment more of this life. To be in love, to have a child, to nurture a family for himself. He wanted, so desperately, to have and to hold. He had also never divulged any of this to you.

“Its late-” You paused to look into the dark space outside of the ship, “In theory. We’ve been awake for a while is more accurate,”

“You can go to bed, I’ll manage with the kid.”

“We have Din, you’ve kidnapped someone since you slept last,”

Din scoffed, “Kidnapped is a little bit heavy, also incredibly incorrect. I do not kidnap, I get paid for what I do.”

“Kidnappers get paid, I think that's the point?” You pushed yourself out of the chair, “Are you coming?”

Din looked back to the console, “Fine, let me just put in the coordinates then I’ll be down, okay?”

You nodded, “Make sure not to get us lost.” You gathered your book and the blanket thrown over the headrest of The Child’s seat before opening the doors to the hallway.

You were settled into bed, pajamas on, afghan wrapped around your shoulders, and book in your clutch, when Din came down the ladder. He shuffled through the room, setting things in their rightful place, blaster under the bed, gloves on the nigh table.

“I’m turning the lights off, is that okay?”

You nodded, “Yes, yeah I’m done with this chapter.” You dogeared the page as the room was cast into darkness. The thick quilt on the bed was pushed back and the mattress sunk under his weight. There was a quiet shuffle as he removed his gloves, his helmet, and the rest of his heavy armor.

He was warm, it seemed to radiate from him. Even as he lay a lifetime away from you, only touching hands. It was pitch black and his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Did you see much of the village when we stopped?” You asked quietly, playing with his fingers.

“Enough.”

“What does that mean? Enough,”

“I saw enough of it, it was nice, lots of farmland. Did you like it?”

You nodded, moving to run your fingers over the palm of his hand. Despite how rough his line of work was Din’s hands were soft, all the years spent under thick leather gloves, “It was stunning, the baby liked it too. He really likes playing with other kids, he’s good at making friends.”

“Do you think he gets lonely?” You felt the tips of Din’s fingers shyly prod at the delicate skin on your wrist. The excitement that bubbled into your lungs seemed almost pathetic, like a schoolgirl holding hands with her crush for the very first time. But you’d never had his bare hands anywhere but your own and now he was moving up your arm.

“No, he seems content here, with us.”

His fingers were at the crook of your elbow now, pressing into the soft flesh and he almost seemed to tug at you, tug you closer, and you gave. His voice had quieted to accommodate the closed distance, “Friends couldn’t… hurt? Other kids to be around for more than just a couple of days.”

You let one of your fingertips start to dance up his bicep, “What exactly are you insinuating Mando?”

“It would be nice to settle in,” He gingerly settled his hand against the curve of your neck.

Your heart raced and you crooned into him, a soft shudder rolling through your shoulder, “Settle in?”

He carefully pushed a piece of hair from your eyes, “To be somewhere, permanently maybe,”

“Like to have a home, you mean?” You reached to hold the back of his hand against your cheek.

“Yes… maybe. Not necessarily, I mean not if you didn’t want to. Not… you but just in general.” He paused, thumbing at your cheek, “Yes you, if you wanted.”

“Din,” You murmured, reaching into the dark for him.

He caught your wrist, “I’m here. Right here.” And it was very quiet, practically silent besides the soft whirring of the engine. The air changed as he leaned closer, hair brushing against your jaw, “Is this okay?”

“Its perfect,” You whispered back up to him.

Slowly, very slowly, he pressed his mouth to yours. The stubble dusted against his jaw scratched your cheek as he tilted his head. His breath, softly flitting against your skin was warm and the hands your face made you feel safe, grounded. He smelled like leather and sweat and the freshly laundered shirt he wore. Din was home. He was soothing and familiar and home. Absolutely perfect. Absolutely wonderful.

Pulling back slowly you looked up to where you assumed he was, “Din, where exactly would we be settling in?”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #the child #baby yoda #grogu #Mando #lennie writes

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professorrw · 3 years

Text

All I Want, Remus Lupin Fanfiction

Chapter Fourteen

Warnings: fluff, eventual smut, death, violence, swearing, age gap, slight angst, major spoilers for Deathly Hallows

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this! If you did, like, comment, and reblog! If you would like to be added to my taglist (permanent or for this series) tell me and I’ll put you on there!

Peace had settled in at Shell Cottage like dust after a battle. Everyone had fallen into their own little worlds and would come together during meal times. You and Remus were no different. You spent most of the time together but you would occasionally go off and speak to your friends. You wanted to savor the moments you had with Remus and the other guests of the house.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry always told you the newest additions to their plans and if anything had happened that was noteworthy. Just last night Griphook had agreed to get them into Gringotts. This meant that the four of them often occupied the farthest room in the house so they "wouldn't be spied on."

When Hermione wasn't available to chat you would sit with Luna and Dean in the living room. Luna was made aware of what happened to her father soon after arriving. She seemed disappointed in her father's attempt to get Harry arrested but she understood his reasoning.

Dean wasn't up for much talking, but would indulge you in what he was up to before Malfoy's Manor ever so often. He seemed to be missing Seamus more than anything. He had stayed at the school and remained there to Dean's knowledge.

......

The sun was going down at the cottage and the sky was a nice burnt orange. You sat on the grass and admired the breeze that flowed through the air. You weren't alarmed when you heard footsteps behind you. It was Remus. He stood next to you and looked out across the water. The sun reflected on his face and made him appear younger, more carefree.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked.

"Dance? There's no music playing..."

"You don't need music to dance. Here," he held out his hand and helped you up. He put his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You placed your head against his chest and listened to the gentle thump of his heartbeat. You both swayed together, body pressed against one another. It was moments like these that you never wanted to end.

"I love you," you whispered.

"And I love you."

Remus was always gentle and kind to you no matter what. After a few minutes, which seemed short to you, Remus pulled back and kissed you. It was a tender and slow kiss, the kind that made your heart melt. He intertwined your fingers and walked back to the cottage, opening the door for you on the way.

"You two are lovely dancers," Luna complimented.

"She is, isn't she?" Remus said. You laughed and let go of his hand, moving to sit beside Hermione on the couch.

Ever since last night Harry had insisted that they flesh out all the details as soon as possible. They had been cooped up in the back room every hour of the day, only coming out when necessary.

"How's it going?" you asked.

"Swimmingly really. This just... needs a lot of preparation and I don't think we have the time. There are so many things that could go wrong. Y/N... what if we don't make it?"

"Oh 'Mione I'm sure you will. You three are brilliant. You've gotten this far haven't you? Have faith in the boys and Griphook."

"If only I could be as sure as you..."

"I'm positive you'll be alright. Besides, you have an inside source helping you."

"Yes, that's true." She paused before standing up, "I guess I should get back there."

......

About a week later you were helping Fleur in the kitchen when Remus and Bill came in. They had grown very close in the time you had been here. They were basically best friends now. When Remus wasn't with you, he was with Bill. They both seemed to be quite engaged in conversation as they sat down at the table.

The others began to flutter over as well, preparing for lunch. You and Fleur handed out plates to the nine people sitting down. The table was packed, everyone being shoulder to shoulder. You managed to snag the seat between Remus and Hermione. Everyone gathered into a group conversation, talking about the Ministry and everyone else outside of the house. Fred and George seemed to be getting on Muriel's nerves but you didn't expect anything less from them.

You were pretty good friends with the twins, being in the same year as them and all. They had approached you during breakfast one day in your first year and asked you if you wanted to help them out with a prank. You agreed, seeing that you didn't have many other people to talk to. After that your friendship seemed to bloom. You were always helping them with pranks on fellow Slytherins and tried your best to keep them out of trouble. You had also helped them come up with a few of their products for their store.

Following your friendship with the Weasley's, you were often invited to the Burrow during the summer. Sometimes your parents would accompany you and chat with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Your parents were very fond of the Weasleys, being a fellow blood traitor family. They didn't care that they had come from different houses growing up or had gone different paths, they all still got close.

"Y/N, Lupin, how are you two doing?" Harry asked. He immediately tried to change the subject when Bill asked him about Ginny.

"I believe we're doing well," Remus said.

"Yes, we are," you agreed.

Harry seemed to have been hoping you would say more so everyone would be invested in the two of you but that didn't happen. The conversation moved back to Harry after a few nods from everyone.

......

Many days later, Remus told you to go outside and wait for him before dinner. You did as he asked and walked around their garden. Remus came out with a blanket in one arm and a basket in the other.

"I thought we could have a picnic," he said.

You beamed and helped him spread out the blanket. You both sat down atop it as Remus pulled out the food, silverware, plates, glasses, and a bottle of wine. "I hope it's not too much. I wanted to do something for you and I thought you might like this."

"Remus it's amazing," you said. It was true. Remus went out of his way to set this up.

You both ate and talked about anything that came to mind. Remus poured two glasses of wine and handed you one. You drank it slowly, savoring the rich flavor. Remus gazed at you while he sipped on his drink. He set his cup down and moved to sit right next to you.

He cupped your face with his hands and pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back and moved into his lap, straddling him. His hands moved to your hips as his lips moved to your jaw and neck. You sighed in pleasure as your fingers traveled Remus's hair. He leaned back to where you were on top of him, bringing his lips back to yours again. He went to undo the top button of your shirt when you pulled back.

"Remus everyone can see us," you whispered.

"Oh, right," he said coyly.

You separated from each other and straightened out your clothes. You packed up the picnic and went inside. The table was full, and no one spoke when you both came inside. Heat had risen in your cheeks already and it intensified when you noticed that Hermione was smirking at you.

......

A month later, you were seeing off Harry, Hermione (who was disguised as Bellatrix), Ron and Griphook before they Disapperated for Gringotts. It was just after breakfast and you everyone had already told them good luck. No one else in the house knew where they were going or what they had planned other than you.

Hermione, or Bellatrix, looked nervous as they linked hands. You told them a few encouraging words and said goodbye before they disappeared.

By the time it was dark outside they had not come back. You weren't sure they would and neither were they. You had been talking with Bill and Remus when Luna came into the living room.

"I just got a message from Neville," Luna said, holding up her fake Galleon. "Harry needs us to go to Hogwarts to fight with him. Neville said to Apparate into Hogsmeade and go to the Hog's Head. The bartender can get us into the school."

"Alright then, what the hell are we waiting for?" Dean asked.

Taglist: @bellamy1998 @sxsalvatore @ottjord @lina1945

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secret-time-is-here · 2 years

Text

An Error's Journey

Chapter 70

Previous - First - Next

Warning: sudden episode/breakdown

“Hey,” A voice loomed over his shoulder. He knew Chronic was watching. Had known for a time, but he waited for the other to start the conversation. He simply sat still, staring at the collection that had grown in his room.

It was still somewhat frightening how long he had spent out of the antivoid, how long he had been permanently living with Nightmare and the gang. Photos pinned on the walls and standing in frames, gifts scattered about. Carvings, paintings, star charts, and plants were kept safe in his windows. Then the new addition, the set he couldn’t stop staring at, the dolls of the gang.

Some of the details were off, as expected from getting them from an Error from a different multiverse, but the details did leave him confused. Killer’s eye was gone, and his soul was shaped like a target, not like the heart that it had been for so long. Horror was much smaller, the same size as a normal sans rather than the bulky skeleton he was used to. Dust was also shorter, even more so than the Cross he knew. Then Cross, the red in his palate was confusing. The red eye and the red scar he had never seen before. He remembers hearing that Cross used to have it, but not anymore.

Cross, Killer, Dust, and Horror sat with woven smiles, smirks, and expressions of all sorts. Each just as perfect as the people they were representing. He had since added some dolls of his own, one of Hearts–to complete the gang, then Death Ink Nightmare and Dream sat with them. Ones of Chronic and Core were standing behind all the dolls.

He should probably be feeling something now, right? The emotion–the name on the tip of his tongue–stayed just out of his reach. Just like Chronic had been when they first met. He doubted he would reach it anytime soon.

The bed dipped next to him, and for a moment he was surprised that a shadowy figure could have the weight to do that at all, but, then again. Chronic had never been normal and always one to break his expectations.

The sunlight beamed through the room, and a flash in the corner of his eye caught his vision. Chronic fiddling with the token they had gotten yesterday. They seemed to like it.

Drifting his eyes up, Chronic stared at the plushes just as he had been. Their eyes seemed more unfocused than ever, a blur of particles the closest thing to any pupils. Yellow, purple, black, brown, and a bright cyan all intertwining. None wanting to back down, yet none taking charge. Their eyes finally settled down, cyan and black overtaking. Their eyes eased over to him.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been to Omega…”

“Yeah…” He looked back to the dolls, the smaller, derpy little Blue in Hearts hand taking his focus, “...It has been.”

“I’m sure Sydney misses you,” Chronic urged, “might even see some old friends.”

“...will you be there with me?”

“If you want, I can. Not like we have much to do.” They chuckled, easing the tension, but it didn’t help much. Error only nodded his head, before opening a portal in front of them and walking through.

He could feel Chronic quickly attach themself to his shadow, following along as he changed to Lapse and took the back ways around Omega. He couldn’t help but notice the papers and magazines questioning where he went again. His computer was probably overflowing with emails.

Thankfully, he carefully avoided seeing anyone and made it into the Outsider easily, coming in through the back. Sydney was watching over the front counter, he ignored the whispers that erupted from him walking into the main area of the cafe.

A quick glare from the spider monster was all it took for the cafe to calm down, and Sydney ushered him to the VIP room.

“Boss, Lapse, you doin’ better?” Right, last any of his workers or friends knew, he was taking a break.

“Yeah… A friend I met on my travels had passed away…” Sydney's expression spoke of sympathy, “Needed some time to myself… how have things been here?”

“They’ve been fine, good thing those pesky news reporters are too afraid of me to get in-” Her voice was innocent, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the implication, “-but other than a fan crazy enough to try and find you showing up every once and awhile, things have been fine. Sure missed ya company though.” She smiled softly and he returned it.

“Sorry I was gone so long-”

“No, Boss, it’s fine. Don’t think anything about it.” Sydney paused, raising a brow, “Seriously. Don’t. I got your back.”

Noise began to cluster outside, and Lapse moved to peek out the window. “Oh, right. Blue and Cobalt were going to stop by for a to-go order, I better get down there-”

“-I’ll come with you.”

“You… ya sure, boss?”

Lapse nodded, following behind as Sydney parted the crowd around the two and brought them away over the counter.

“Lapse!” Blue exclaimed, “It’s been so long! How are you?” That smile was infectious as ever, and it reminded him again why Hearts loved the guy so much. Blue’s ring shone clearly over his button-up.

More of the crowd tried to gather closer, but Sydney was not having it. Keeping them a fair distance away to give them some privacy. The other workers behind the counter handed Cobalt their order as Blue and Error talked.

“Doing better now, sometimes a good break is all ya need.”

“Oh! Completely agree! That’s why Cobalt and I are here, actually. Getting some snacks and drinks for a small break before going back to work on the farm–would you like to join us? I don’t think you’ve ever seen it, you’d love all the animals, I’m sure. Especially Spots!”

“Who-?”

“One of our cows,” Cobalt interrupted, handing a bag to Blue as he held the coffee tray, “Poor Chrome, wish I’d known sooner they didn’t like Cows, or else I wouldn’t have offered.” Blue stifled a laugh, “Poor kid.” Cobalt shook their head.

So Cross had made it over there at some point? How often had he snuck away with Hearts as Chrome? “Are you coming with us?”

“...Sure.” He hesitantly smiled, and Blue returned it.

Blue maneuvered them around town, stopping now and again to say hello to the people of Omega, many were surprised to see Lapse out and about for the first time in ages. Instead of going to the designated portal area, they instead went to the Star Council building and up to Blue’s office.

“Dream, Ink, and I have a little loophole,” he explained while opening a portal, “Helps when we just need to go to the office and want to avoid everyone in Omega. Sure helped out Dream…”

“How is he? Haven’t seen him in a while either.”

“Alright, he’s closing himself off again, but-”

“-He can’t say no to me.” Cobalt smiled innocently, walking through the portal, Lapse and Blue following.

They arrived in a beautiful surface world, the sun was high in the sky and the clouds shaded the ground. He could look for miles out and still see nothing but plains and mountains, one mountain taller than the rest overlooking everything. Opposite the mountain in the distance, you could barely make out a large city. The Swap farm was giant, with fields as far as the eye could see on one side, a farmhouse right in the middle of it all, and on the other side of the road barns and stables.

The chickens, pigs, cows, and even some horses roamed freely, Honey, Blue’s Papyrus, watching over them.

“Heya you two,” Honey spoke leisurely, a lollipop held in his hand, “Hi there, newcomer,” Lapse moved closer and Honey made the effort to extend his hand for a quick shake, “Mode, right? Hear a lot about ya.”

“Just Lapse is fine,” He knew there was nothing to be afraid of, yet it felt as if there were more memories hidden. His hands still shook even after getting a bit farther away from Honey. He just hid them in his pockets.

Blue passed out the coffee and baked goods they had gotten as Cobalt led him towards the animals.

The chickens balked and clucked as they walked by, Cobalt snickering about their “balk” being worse than their bite. The sheep didn’t mind as much, simply staring. The cows practically ran to Cobalt, one much smaller than the rest knocking him over.

“Spots! Spot- calm down, girl!” Cobalt laughed, sitting up with the large animal stubbornly staying in his lap. Lapse crouched down to sit with them. “Anyways, this is Spots. Energetic thing. Her mama was pretty much Blue’s best friend, but Cinnamon mostly stays in the barn now. She’s pretty old.” He explained, petting the very happy calf. “The chickens prefer Honey, and the rest of the animals like Hearts a lot.”

Cobalt wrestled an arm out from under Spots and showed him pictures of Honey napping with dozens of hens and chicks sleeping around or on top of him. Another few pictures showcased Hearts grooming the sheep or riding the horses.

His soul panged, but it was gone as soon as it was there. He could feel that aura Chronic always had around them flare for a moment. If Cobalt felt it, he didn’t mention it.

“Oh, uh-” Cobalt tried to gently push off Spots, “Pftt, can you lend me a hand here-?” The cow spread more across him, and Cobalt laughed more, “Lapse- help!” He spoke through stifled laughs.

“Help!” The glitching figure screamed hand outstretched. Form pixelated and unrecognizable.

His breathing quickened, his soul beating fast. Blinking couldn’t get the image out of his mind, the scared expression burned in his eyes. He barely realized he had crouched into a ball, someone shushing and talking to him in wingdings. His tears burned against his cheeks.

It must’ve been some time later when he fully felt like himself again. A blanket had been wrapped around his shoulders and he sat in a farm-style living room, having fallen deep into the cushions of an old couch. Honey napped nearby, Hearts was reading a book in another armchair.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Hearts soft voice spoke, “You crashed for a while there, some hours have passed… I can get you something to drink if you’d like?”

“Uh–um, that’s alright.” He hastily declined, “I… I should get out of your way…”

“Are you sure? It’s more than alright if you need some time to reorientate, or need help getting home.”

“It’s fine… I… thanks.” His mind was far too jumbled to do much of any intelligent conversation right now, he could feel his glitches slipping away from him. He needed to get somewhere else, fast.

He quickly said goodbye, walking out the door and through a portal. Hoping to head back home–back to his room, but ended up in his Realm instead.

He could feel Chronic peel from his shadow, sitting him down near the edge of the broken island. The grass had grown yellow, looking even dirty brown in the dark purple light of the galaxy. The lake began to freeze over the top, his tree cracking, the ground crumbling. Pieces drifting away.

He had no clue how it had gotten to this point, he was fine. Everything was fine.

Chronic’s arm rested around his shoulders, and he could feel them begin to slowly break away his walls pebble by pebble. He couldn’t name it. Name the feeling that slowly trickled out of the dam.

“’S okay… I know… I know.”

His cheeks began to burn, and he stared into the abyss.

#undertale #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 70 #chapter 70 #error sans #LDM #chronic sans #swap sans #blue sans #my writng #my works

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bonvoyagenoona · 4 years

Text

Hideaway (M) | 05: And This Our Life Finds Tongues in Trees

Hideaway | Masterpost

Word Count: 11,160 | read on ao3

Rating: 18+ / Explicit / Mature

Content Warning: Kinda kinky soft and hard smut!

Summary

Only the respected patriarch of the Kim dynasty thinks you are worth anything. Despite his vision, the rest of the upper crust sees you as nothing more than your station, a girl borne of a family that only ever existed to serve them. Cruelly, the only thing standing in your way is also the key to your success: having to take care of a smiley, goofy, lanky, drunk manchild in ill-fitting clothes who just happens to be next in line for the throne, and who has just inadvertently kidnapped you. The next three days with Kim Seokjin will make or break you.

Chapter Excerpt

The car pulls up, and Jin starts loading your things in the trunk, saving the driver from having to get out.

And then you get into the back seat, hands clasped and intertwined.

You watch curiously as Jin texts, one-handed, but still incredibly fast. Once he’s done, he sighs and looks over to you, grinning reassuringly.

You’ve given up on trying to identify his plan. You know that what Jin needs most is your support, not a solution. You wonder how long it took Appa to figure that part of it out. Probably not long. He probably knew that from the start. Things like that come so much easier to him.

Unlike last time, you’re wide awake for the entire drive. You gape at the beautiful sunrise that you get to see. As the first rays appear over the horizon, turning the sky from midnight blue to morning purple, Jin raises your hand to his lips, and he kisses it. You notice that he does this whenever he starts to feel anxious about the thoughts going through his mind. Before long, he’s planted at least a hundred kisses on your hand.

You pull up in front of the office.

Jin turns to you. “Just remember that I love you,” he says with a grin.

“You’re starting to scare me,” you say.

He smiles. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna play out like it needs to.”

Author’s Note: This story snuck up on me and Hideaway Jin came out of the characterization I envisioned for him in Matchmaker. I’ve since fallen in love with Jin, so finishing this story is quite bittersweet. Thanks to all of you who read along with me! Hope you enjoy this last installment!

Taglist 💜: permanent @purpleheartsfortae @btseditsworld | hideaway @purplehearts1996 @simpledomain @impossiblytinytraveler (taglist closed!)

05: And This Our Life Finds Tongues in Trees

“Eomma, can we go home?” you ask, fingers grasping at the lace socks that she has just put onto your feet. “I don’t like the boys!”

“Don’t scratch,” she tells you, taking a moment to apply her lipstick.

“It’s itchy!” you say, frowning at the frilly dress that’s been forced on you. You start scratching at the lace on your arm. “I hate this dress!”

Eomma turns to you and kneels next to you. She puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs your upper arms, trying to warm your skin up somehow to stop the lace from itching. “I know. But it’s the only other one that I brought.”

“It’s Hobi’s fault!” you exclaim.

“I’m not mad,” Eomma clarifies. “No one’s mad. No one’s blaming you, dear.”

This seems to calm you, and you stop digging your fingernails into your skin.

“I saw Hobi spill his pizza on you. It’s OK. It was just an accident.”

“No,” you say. “He said my dress was ugly, and then he threw his pizza on it.”

Eomma clicks her tongue. “Is that right?”

You pout and nod.

She smoothes your silky, straight, long hair. You’re four years old and a long way from puberty, when your hair will start to gnarl like tree roots.

“Well, that wasn’t right to do, was it?” Eomma asks.

You shake your head.

“Did Hobi say sorry?” Eomma asks.

You sigh. “Yes, Eomma.” Technically, he did say sorry, but the sneer on his face told you that he definitely didn’t mean it.

“Good,” she says. “Then we can forgive him, right? For now?”

You cross your arms. “OK. For now.”

“It’s Jin’s graduation,” Eomma says brightly. “It’s his day. Let’s go have a good day for him. OK?”

You nod obediently, but you’re not happy about it.

You follow your mother out of the powder room, through the living room, and back out to the gigantic backyard, where the bounce house, bubble-blowing station, chocolate station, and face painting station greet you. The air is full of giggles, and kids are running around in all directions.

You wish you had brought a book to look through instead.

“Ooh, costume change,” Mrs. Kim coos, kneeling down and giving you a kiss on the cheek. “I love it!”

“Hobi threw a pizza on my dress,” you mutter.

Mrs. Kim exchanges a look with Eomma, and they laugh.

“Did he say sorry?” Mrs. Kim asks.

“Yes, he did, and I told Eomma that, but I don’t think he meant it.”

“Manners, dear,” Eomma tells you warningly.

“Well, even if he didn’t mean it, maybe it’s OK if you forgive him just for today,” Mrs. Kim echoes. “It’s such a happy day. Right?”

You nod. If the two women you love and admire most in the world are telling you this, it must be the right thing to do. Later on, you’ll realize that Eomma and Mrs. Kim were just trying to keep you from making a scene. But you’ll also wonder if this is where you begin your pattern of giving terrible men endless chances, or your tendency to hold in your anger for the sake of collective harmony. For the sake of that golden boy, Kim Seokjin.

Taehyung runs up to you.

“Hi, I’m Taehyung,” the curly-haired one says, extending his hand out.

“I already know,” you say, scowling.

“Oh, it’s you,” Taehyung replies. He blinks at you. “You looked different because of your dress.” And then he runs back to the treehouse. You watch him climb up and up and up on the wooden planks.

When Taehyung reaches the treehouse, Jin pops his head out of the window.

“There’s Jin now,” Mrs. Kim says, standing up again. “Look! He’s coming to you!”

Jin is gleefully scaling down the planks and running toward you.

“You look pretty!” Jin says, breathless when he gets to you. “I mean, you looked pretty before. But you look pretty now, too.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

Jin’s overalls are covered in grass stains, and his face has been painted to look like a dog.

“Do I look pretty, too?” Jin asks.

“Uh,” you say, confused, “...well, I like how you look like a dog?”

“Thanks!” Jin exclaims.

Mrs. Kim and Eomma laugh and take this as a cue that it’s alright to leave you with this precocious social butterfly.

“Thanks for coming to my party,” Jin says, eagerly bouncing on his toes.

“You’re welcome,” you say. “I liked the bubbles and the chocolate. They were fun.”

“C’mon,” he says, taking your hand in his and dragging you across the yard. “Come check out the tree house!”

“Are those boys in there?” you ask.

“I’m a boy,” Jin says. “Do you not like boys?”

“Not the other ones,” you say, frowning.

“Hobi didn’t mean it, he swears,” Jin says, as he pats your shoulder. “He told me. I asked him five times.”

Your frown softens into a pout. You didn’t know Hobi said sorry five whole times to Jin. You only knew that he said it once to you. If he said it more times, you reason, then he probably meant it. No one says something five times and doesn’t mean it.

“You’re telling the truth?” you ask.

Jin nods. “Cross my heart.”

You smile. Jin really isn’t like the other boys. He’s always excited to see you, and he’s always really nice. He never makes fun of you, and he asks what you want to do instead of just deciding what to do. Except for checking out this treehouse.

“I don’t think I can climb up there,” you say, nervous at how tall the tree looks now that you’re standing at the base of it.

“Do you need a boost?” Jin asks, immediately getting on all fours. “No problem! I can give you a boost.”

You frown. “No, I’m just in this big, dumb dress. I can’t move.” You try to spin around, high-step, and wave your arms, but your motion is restricted in almost every direction.

Jin nods. “Then climb onto me, and I’ll take us up there!”

“What?” you ask, horrified.

“Just hold onto me, like this.”

He stands in front of you. “Hug my neck.”

You do as he says, and he crosses your hands over each other.

“I’m gonna go forward a little bit,” Jin says, “OK?”

“OK,” you say nervously.

He leans forward, and your feet rise from the ground.

“See?” Jin asks easily. “You’re not even heavy.”

“Yes I am,” you say. You know you’re heavy because you hear Eomma whisper about your weight to Appa, and Appa always says, “Leave her be.”

“No, you’re not,” Jin laughs. He bounces you up and down, and you giggle a little. “And besides. I’m strong.”

“We won’t fall?” you ask, still unsure.

Hobi sticks his head out of the treehouse window and sees you on Jin’s back.

“Are you bringing her up here?” he calls down.

“Yeah!” Jin calls back.

Hobi’s head disappears into the treehouse.

Jin steadies himself on the first plank of his five-foot journey as if it’s Mount Everest, because to the eight of you, it is.

“Ready?” he asks you.

“Ready,” you say.

He hoists himself up, and he climbs with relative ease. “Whoa, you’re doing it!” you exclaim.

Hobi’s head reappears, poking out the window.

“We don’t want Pizza Dress in here!” he calls, and you hear raucous laughter booming inside the treehouse walls.

“That’s not very nice,” Jin says, pausing a moment to scowl at his friend.

Hobi frowns and pulls his head back inside.

At the top plank, Jin realizes that he has to figure out how to get you onto the platform safely.

“This is gonna be tricky, but just hold on, OK?”

“OK,” you say nervously.

Jin wriggles to bring himself up, and he starts belly crawling to make sure you don’t fall off. When only his calves are hanging off the ledge, you roll off of him, and you help him up, dusting him off.

“Aw,” you say, pointing to his face. “Your dog nose is gone. It’s back to your regular nose.”

Jin pokes at his nose and then looks at his finger. The lack of a smudge of black seems to confirm this to him.

“Well, that’s OK, just pretend it’s still there,” he says happily.

Jin knocks on the door of the treehouse.

Yoongi opens the window next to the door just enough that you can see his eyes.

“Password?” he asks.

“Jin is the Best!” Jin exclaims, puffing out his chest.

“Nope, we changed it,” Yoongi says, before shutting the window loudly.

The rest of the guys laugh.

Jin looks like he might cry. “But… but it’s my treehouse.”

You get angry. You curl your tiny hand into a fist and pound on the door.

Yoongi opens the window again.

“Password?” he asks.

“Pizza Dress?” you ask, unamused.

Yoongi’s brow knits.

And then he reluctantly opens the door.

Jin looks at you like you’ve worked some kind of miracle. He brings you inside, and he shows you all these cool things. His seashell collection, which he adds to every summer. His tin box, which holds marbles and baseball trading cards. The cap and gown that he got for kindergarten graduation.

This is the sixth of at least eight kindergarten graduation parties that you’re going to attend, given that the eight of you in the treehouse are the closest families of the bunch. Yours was the first, and only grown-ups came. Jin was the only other kid for you to play with. You kind of liked it better that way.

Even with all the other parties, you never tire of seeing the caps and gowns. There’s something about them that makes you feel important and special. You like putting yours on, even though Eomma gets annoyed when you dig for it in your closet after she’s organized everything.

“Why is she even in here?” Namjoon asks, looking at you from head to toe and making a disgusted face.

“Because she’s my friend,” Jin says earnestly, clasping your hand. “And you’re all my friends. Right?”

“Yeah, we’re your friends,” Jimin says.

“All my friends should be friends with each other,” Jin says. “That’s the nice thing to do.”

“Whatever,” Jimin says.

“Kids!” you hear Appa call. “It’s time for Jin to open presents!”

You scoff. No one brought presents to your graduation party. They just gave your parents envelopes of money that you’ll definitely never see.

You exit the treehouse, and you see Appa standing there, extending his hands to you. You smile, and you jump into his arms. He catches you like you’re nothing, sets you down on the ground, and plants a kiss on the top of your head.

“That looks fun,” Taehyung admits.

“Well, come on, then,” Appa says, reaching out for him.

Taehyung takes two steps back to get a bit of a running start, and then he leaps into Appa’s arms. As Appa lets Taehyung go, Taehyung pouts and says, “Wait, don’t I get a kiss too?”

Appa laughs. “Uh, alright. Sure, buddy.” He gives him a quick peck.

Taehyung beams at you, and you can’t help but laugh.

Appa does this six more times, and he gives Jin an extra tickle before planting a kiss on the top of his head. “Congrats, little man,” he says, setting him down.

Jin looks up at Appa and smiles warmly. And then he wraps his arms around Appa’s leg and hugs him tight.

Appa sighs. You think he’s just tired, but his heart is sinking, knowing how cold of a world Jin is stepping into. He sees so much of Jin’s father inside of him. The same cheerful heart. He hopes it doesn’t get twisted over the years. If only you could tell him that the opposite happens. That somehow, Jin grows an even bigger and more joyous heart as life goes on.

You all race to the gift table, and Jin starts tearing into all the boxes.

“One at a time,” Mr. Kim instructs, holding Jin on his lap and helping him with the tougher paper.

Jin gets literally everything that a boy in this privileged world could get. Toy trucks. Remote-controlled boats. More trading cards. Video games. Board games. Clothes. Books. Action figures. He shares them with everyone, starting with giving you one of the books and passing the rest on to the gang, and then to the other kids. The adults crowded around you are so amazed at his sweet gesture, but you and the fellow kids know that this is business as usual. You share your haul. It’s just what you do.

“I think there’s one more gift,” Mr. Kim says, as Mrs. Kim slowly approaches with a cloth-covered box with a handle on top.

“Ooh,” Jin says, watching as Mrs. Kim sets the box on the table in front of him, now obscuring him from view.

“Ready to open it?” Mr. Kim asks.

Jin nods furiously.

Mr. Kim hands Jin a corner of the cloth and sets his hands on the base of the box so that it doesn’t fall over.

“OK, Seokjin, open it!”

Jin pulls the cloth in a swift motion, and you learn that it’s a cage. You can see Jin’s thrilled face through the bars of the cage. And inside of the cage is an adorable sugar glider.

“No way!” Jin exclaims, and all the kids huddle around him excitedly to try and get a look.

“He’ll need a name,” Mrs. Kim says, sharing a fond smile with Mr. Kim.

“Hmm,” Jin says. His eyes move side to side as he thinks. “I know! Odeng!”

Everyone laughs.

“Really?” Mr. Kim asks. “Odeng? You’re naming him after fish cakes?”

“I love fish cakes,” Jin says seriously, tears threatening to form in the corners of his eyes.

“OK, OK,” Mr. Kim relents, laughing. “That’s great, Seokjin. Good boy. It’s smart to combine something you love with something else that you love. Spread the joy.”

You smile at Mr. Kim’s reasoning. You think about what Jin said in the treehouse about his friends all being friends. You look over at the guys, and when Jimin genuinely smiles back for once, prompting the others to reluctantly but honestly smile back as well, you feel warm and fuzzy.

Jin’s tiny hands open the door to the cage and gently pick Odeng up. They carry Odeng to the front pocket of his overalls. Jin’s eyes find you in the huddle, and he smiles at you when he sees you. When Odeng’s tiny face pops up from the pocket, you laugh, and Jin smiles even wider.

He loves his present so much that he pesters his father with questions. What happens if Odeng doesn’t like him? What happens if Odeng gets sick? What happens if Odeng gets lost?

“Seokjin, all you can do is be the best friend that you can be to Odeng. Make sure to take care of him. Give him food and water. Make sure he has fun, and cheer him up when he’s sad. Life may be tough sometimes, but if you do your best, it will all play out exactly how it needs to,” Mr. Kim tells him, ruffling his hair.

Soon, the festivities die down, and it’s just your family and Jin’s family in the living room, like you like it to be.

You and Jin are playing with Odeng upstairs, but Odeng’s starting to tire out.

“Maybe we should let him rest,” you say.

“You’re right,” Jin says disappointedly. “I’m sorry Odeng. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” He places Odeng back in his cage, and he curls up into a little ball. Jin makes sure that there’s food and water for him, and then you and Jin sit on the floor of his gigantic bedroom.

You look at Jin, his dog face paint almost completely washed off in the excitement of the day. Jin pulls his lips into a pout as he looks down at your skirt.

“I’m sorry Hobi ruined your other dress,” Jin tells you.

“It’s OK,” you say, “I forgot about that already.”

Jin grins. “It’s fun to play with you. You’re really nice. And smart.”

You smile back. “It’s nice to play with you, too. You’re not like the other boys.”

“I’m not?” Jin asks, worried.

“But it’s a good thing,” you say.

“How am I different?”

“I don’t know. You’re sweeter.”

Jin gets a dreamy look on his face. “I’m sweeter?”

“It’s time to go, dear!” Appa calls up from the bottom of the staircase.

You jump to your feet, but Jin takes his time getting up.

“Aw, I wish you could stay longer,” Jin says, sadly.

“But I was here all day,” you say, eager to go home and watch TV.

“I know.” Jin looks at the ground. “Well, bye. I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

You don’t know why he’s so sad. But you’re pulled to him. You want to make him feel better.

You slowly walk up to him, lean forward, and give him a peck on the cheek. His eyes light up and pour their sunshine into yours, and you smile and run out the door.

You smile to yourself when the memory comes to you. It’s so early that it’s still dark outside. You’re back in your blazer, standing where the road meets the unpaved path, and you’ve just given Jin a peck on the cheek to cheer him up.

“What?” Jin asks, your smile infectious.

“I just thought of Odeng,” you say. “Your graduation party. Your room, after.”

Jin’s eyes soften. “Yeah. That’s the dream I had a couple of nights ago.”

“When you brought up the dream, you said, ‘the two of us were in my room, playing’,” you echo. “I thought you were talking about you and Odeng. Not you and me.”

Jin hugs you tightly to him. “I’m always talking about you and me.”

You curl up into his chest, careful not to get your lipstick on him. You can’t believe it. You can’t believe you were the one who kissed Jin first. Cared first.

Loved first.

The car pulls up, and Jin starts loading your things in the trunk, saving the driver from having to get out.

And then you get into the back seat, hands clasped and intertwined.

You watch curiously as Jin texts, one-handed, but still incredibly fast. Once he’s done, he sighs and looks over to you, grinning reassuringly.

You pull up in front of the office.

Jin turns to you. “Just remember that I love you,” he says with a grin.

“You’re starting to scare me,” you say.

He smiles. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna play out like it needs to.”

The door opens, and Jin steps out from his side. Jin walks around and opens your door for you. You step out, and you watch as Jin turns to the driver and makes arrangements for them to drop off your belongings at your respective apartments.

You think about the day that you caught Kwan cheating on you. How Jin sprung into action. He somehow knew everything that needed to be done, and he effortlessly took care of it all for you. It feels like that now.

Everyone around you thinks today is just like any other workday, but you see a new, quiet confidence in Jin’s steps. It’s subtle, but it’s strong enough to make it feel like a seismic shift is coming your way.

You wonder if that’s what you give to Jin. That quiet confidence.

You start to gather in the boardroom, and when Appa and Mr. Kim join you, Mr. Kim furrows his brow at the sight of his son.

“Did you sleep all of it off?” he asks quietly, referring to last week’s activities.

Jin smiles softly. Mr. Kim is taken aback. He isn’t sure what kind of reaction he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, Abeonim. I’m ready,” Jin answers cryptically.

As you greet Appa and confirm quietly that all was well over the weekend, you both watch Jin as pulls Mr. Kim into a hug. Mr. Kim is thrown by Jin’s actions, looking self-conscious as the rest of Kim Indemnity’s senior leaders start to take their seats at the table.

“What are you doing, Seokjin?” Mr. Kim murmurs, his body going stiff.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Jin replied. “Thank you for this life. Thank you for these opportunities. I know their value. I know your sacrifice.”

Mr. Kim looks absolutely astonished. He isn’t one who shares his emotions, perhaps other than anger, too readily.

It’s a funny thing. You relate more to Mr. Kim than to Appa in that way. You tend to hold everything inside until it’s absolutely necessary to let it out. And you know that Jin relates more to Appa than to his own father in this regard, as well. Jin’s heart is almost too big, and it spills wherever he takes it, sometimes inspiring others, and sometimes opening himself up too much. It can be its own kind of intimidating.

You and Appa share a concerned, knowing look. Watching as Mr. Kim’s eyes fight their way out of this unexpected daze, you wonder if Mr. Kim will be able to get through the meeting.

Jin sinks down into his seat, right next to Mr. Kim at the head of the table. Appa sits across from him. You sit next to Jin. Mr. Kim’s secretary sits across from you, typing on her laptop to take down the minutes. And the other leaders fill the remaining chairs.

Mr. Kim remains standing, looking out at the table.

Once everyone has quieted, he straightens.

“Well, you were all there for the announcement. The protocol that my grandfather set up clearly states that in one month’s time, my son Seokjin will be head of this company. It has been an honor and pleasure serving you all, and I know that my son will continue to support and grow our business in a way that aligns with our values, our traditions, and our mission statement.”

Mr. Kim looks over at Jin, who is still just smiling simply. It doesn’t provide Mr. Kim any comfort at this nerve-wracking moment.

“Usually, this is the meeting where we present that forward vision,” Mr. Kim replies, “but I---”

“Thank you, Abeonim,” Jin replies, standing and looking out at the group.

Mr. Kim nods and sits, watching Jin carefully. He shoots you a glance, and you set your face as to be as stoic and calm as possible. When Mr. Kim sees you, he lightens a bit.

Jin looks at each of the senior leaders.

“Good morning,” he says brightly.

The rest of the group exchanges glances.

“Has anyone wished anyone a good morning yet, today?” Jin asks.

One of the more gregarious leaders chuckles. “No, Mr. Kim likes to get down to business right at the top of the hour.”

The rest of the table laughs softly, and Mr. Kim shrinks a bit.

“Understandably so. Abeonim’s run a very tight ship, and it’s due to that stewardship that we’ve done so well,” Jin replies. “But over the past couple of years, I’ve noticed that we don’t start off greeting each other with a good morning. And today, it is a good morning. That sunrise was beautiful, wasn’t it? Actually, despite that show that I put on at the partner forum -- or maybe based on what you saw at the partner forum -- the entire weekend was beautiful for me!”

Everyone laughs. You can’t help but grin when Jin flashes you a smile. That idiot is pretty damn charming.

“I thought we’d start there, at least,” Jin says, looking back out at the table. “How was everyone’s weekend?”

“Took the kids to see a movie,” the gregarious leader replies.

“It was our anniversary,” another leader shares, and everyone wishes him warm congratulations.

“Abeonim, what about you?” Jin asks.

Mr. Kim shrugs. “I, uh… well, I golfed.”

“Nice. How’d you do?”

Mr. Kim pouts, making the table laugh.

“Well, now you’ll have more time to work on your game, I guess,” Jin says, making the table laugh again.

Mr. Kim dares a smile. A genuine, sparkling smile.

“Is anyone hungry?” Jin asks. “I’m getting hungry.”

He presses a button on the control panel on the table, and the door opens. Servers enter the conference room with all sorts of food on trays and plates, setting them in front of the board leaders.

They aren’t sure what to do.

“Well, dig in,” Jin says encouragingly, motioning for them to pick up the silverware that the servers are handing out.

No one moves.

But then you say brightly, “Looks great!”

You clear your throat and start to tuck in. You take some servings of all sorts of food. Eggs. Tomatoes. Sausages. Ham.

Appa follows.

And then, Mr. Kim follows.

And that’s when the board follows.

Jin watches as everyone eats.

“Isn’t this nice?” he asks.

Everyone’s mouths are full, but you hear appreciative hums and see everyone’s heads nodding. A server makes the round with champagne flutes.

“I’ve always loved food,” Jin says.

You smile. You think of all the meals you’ve shared. All the times he’s cooked and fed you.

“There’s something about meals that help us connect, I think. And that’s what I wanted to share with you all today. I wanted to connect and tell you about what I’m thinking about.”

Jin presses another button on the control panel, and a slideshow starts playing on the screen on the long wall. It has pictures of various Kim Indemnity employees. Most of the pictures showcase food in some way. A group of workers sharing lunch. A special event with a fancy dinner. Even some less debaucherous pictures of the guys.

“As many of you probably already know, I took some time this weekend to disappear. Clear my head. Think about how I wanted to lead this company. And I came to the realization that I didn’t want to lead it.”

The group slows their eating to focus on Jin, curious about where he’s going.

“With more thought,” Jin replies, “I realized that I just didn’t want to lead it alone. I want to lead it with all of you. And I want to bring people together while we do it.”

He presses another button, and the display shows the current growth of restaurants in the local area.

“For me, that starts with approaching some untapped markets that foster a sense of community. What better way than to start expanding our clientele from Manufacturing, Operational, Technological, and Security companies to culture: food, arts, sports, and entertainment.”

Jin grins and looks around the table. “I know you may be thinking that those areas may not be as stable, but look at us. We’re all eating. Who doesn’t need to eat?” He looks over at one of the leaders who spoke earlier. “Didn’t you take your beautiful wife out to dinner for your anniversary?”

The leader smirks and nods.

Jin looks to the other leader who spoke. “And didn’t you take your kids to the movies?”

Jin is met with yet another smile and nod.

“Abeonim’s glowing legacy is about the solidification of our values. We work in insurance. We’re there when people need us, plain and simple. And we’re now in the global discussion because of your efforts. I want our next step to be about expansion. I want ours to be a holistic, inclusive world. It doesn’t just make sense from a humanistic point of view, but for business as well.”

Jin presses another button, and the slide starts to show growth projections, with increased investment in the culture scene, just in your hometown.

“You came up with all this in three days?” one of the leaders asks, impressed.

Jin grins.

“Absolutely not. I’m not even the person who came up with it. And it doesn’t stop there.”

Your heart starts pounding as Jin turns to you. He presses a button on the control panel, and the picture of you and Jin from the college bonfire pops up onto the screen.

Appa reaches for your hand under the table, and you turn to him. He’s smiling. He has the same look on his face that he had during the night of the business partner forum. He knows something.

“I wouldn’t have started thinking about our potential in untapped markets until our brilliant and soon-to-be head executive assistant here provided me with some much-needed perspective this weekend,” Jin replies, gesturing to you, and giving you a wink when all eyes are off of him.

You bury the impulse to giggle at Jin mocking the consummate professional role. It’s not just his coded language. It’s also the fact that he’s using your ideas. It’s that he’s bringing you in. It’s all happening like you hoped it would.

“You know her work and how integral it has been in all of the mergers and acquisitions that took place over the past couple of years. You know that when it comes down to understanding the inner workings of this company, she is the person who knows all.”

The group nods and agrees. You’re touched. You thought you had gone unnoticed all this time.

Jin turns to you. “Would you like to speak about your ideas on inclusivity as it pertains to other untapped markets?”

And then he sits down. He actually sits down, relinquishing his power and handing it to you.

You think about what Namjoon said about power.

So you stand.

“Thank you, sir,” you reply. “I do appreciate the chance to get to share them.”

“Floor’s yours,” Jin says, winking at you again, this time not caring about who sees.

You smile. You’ve had this pitch in you for as long as you can remember.

“I honor what you’ve said about inclusivity. Mr. Kim has shown how we’ve left out the food, arts, sports, and entertainment industries, essentially leaving money on the table. But what if I told you there weren’t just scenes, but a whole population of people that we’ve ignored.”

The group chatters, confused about what could possibly be missing from their portfolio.

Jin presses a button on the control panel, and just as you expect, your title slide on your presentation on women-led microbusinesses shows up.

You flash a smile to Appa, whom you know must have been the one who sent Jin the slides.

You think of the binder that you gave to Jin during your middle school election.

This is Jin finally giving you that binder back.

“We’ve actually been so exclusive that we’ve ignored women-led businesses completely, regardless of the type of industry that they operate in,” you say. “Things are different in today’s world. Women, with the changes in access to resources and education, are undergoing an amazing transformation, and yet, not one of our industry partners has committed to investing in their growth, despite great projections of strong ROIs.”

Jin presses a button on the panel, and your map of the current state of local women-led businesses shows up.

“Women are often subject to limited resources due to perceptions about their potential success, so they’ve started turning to microbusinesses as a way to get started and develop proofs of concepts,” you explain. “We’ve been overlooking these women-led microbusinesses, even as they’re skyrocketing, not just here, but everywhere.”

Jin advances to the global slide, and there’s a murmur of interest around the table.

“This is an incredible opportunity for us. There’s currently no advocacy or protection for them out there, and if we integrate their needs into the company’s mission statement, we could diversify and innovate with relatively low risk, while also steadily building a customer base that will continue to work with us as they grow into major corporations in their own right.”

Jin presses another button, and projections show up that detail how much money the company could earn through these investments. You know you’ve won them over when the leaders start to eat and talk while pointing things out on the slides to each other.

You smile at Jin, and he sighs happily at you.

Now it’s time to bring it home.

“Given all the recent growth in women-led businesses, that means that we’re leaving money on the table. And I don’t like to leave things on the table,” you say, holding up your empty plate and making the group laugh.

“Mr. Kim Seokjin just talked about finding our future together. I think that means making sure that when we say ‘together’, we know that everybody is represented. So, fueled by the prospect of inclusion and innovation, I’m hoping that I get to keep this seat at the table.”

You sit and button your blazer, and the group actually applauds.

Mr. Kim and Appa have never looked prouder of the two of you.

And Jin is spinning side to side in his seat, beaming at you, and clapping along with everyone else.

Mr. Kim jumps to his feet.

“I say we put it to a vote. All in favor of integrating these strategies into our roadmap for next year?”

Your heart pounds. It has to be a unanimous vote.

The partners all raise their hands enthusiastically, but Jin’s hands remain planted on the table.

You might leap across the table and throttle him.

“Seokjin?” Mr. Kim asks quizzically.

“I’m in favor, but I think we need to be fully inclusive,” Jin answers.

He stands with his father and clasps his shoulder. “All in favor of integrating these strategies, as well as providing our soon-to-be head executive assistant here a fair and long overdue share of ownership as a full board partner, effective immediately?”

Everyone raises their hands again, smiling at you.

Your heart pounds for a different reason.

“Congratulations, everyone,” Mr. Kim replies, grinning. “I’m so excited to see this next chapter unfold.”

Appa looks at you softly and smiles. There are tears in his eyes, and you try not to get emotional at the precious sight of him. You’re amazed by what this means for your family. What this means for you.

“Excellent,” Appa replies. “Just excellent. I’m so glad I got to be here for that.”

You beam at him. “I can’t believe you,” you reply.

“I can’t believe you,” he says, booping your nose with his finger again. He pulls you into a hug, stroking your back, and then pulls away to hold your face in his hands and run his thumbs over your puffed out cheeks.

“I’m so, so proud of you.”

“How long did you have this planned out?”

“All I did was help organize the servers,” Appa says, grinning and turning to Jin.

You follow his gaze, and you watch as Mr. Kim raises his glass to Jin’s, clinking it and smiling fondly. He pulls Jin into his arms and whispers something to him, right into his ear. Jin’s eyes grow wide and soft. They start to glisten.

Mr. Kim pulls away, and there are tears in his eyes, too. He clasps a hand on Jin’s broad shoulder.

“My son,” you see him say.

You walk quickly to the elevator, with Jin scampering behind you.

“Friday?”

You both get on the elevator with a group of senior leaders, who shake yours and Jin’s hands, congratulating you both on a job well done. They talk about how they haven’t been excited about their work in years. They mention that they’re thrilled with the ideas you’ve come up with. They mention how great of a team you make.

Everyone spills out into the lobby, and you make a beeline for your car.

“Friday?” Jin asks again, his voice weaker.

You keep walking, pushing easily past the turnstiles by the doors, but Jin gets stuck awkwardly.

You walk outside to see your driver opening the door for you. You tell him where you want to go, and you jump in.

Jin follows after you, and the driver closes the door behind him.

As Jin and the driver take their seats, you stare straight ahead.

Jin sighs.

You look at him, stone-cold.

He fiddles with his tie.

“So… are you mad at me?”

You press the button to raise the partition between you and the driver. Jin braces for whatever is about to happen next. Will you scream? Will you hit him? If you do, will you at least avoid his face? He’s going to be taking tons of pictures and doing lots of interviews over the next couple of weeks, and he hopes that you just have the decency to avoid his face.

Once the partition is raised, you look at him.

“I’m sorry!” he says quickly.

You roll on top of him, straddling him and kissing him passionately, moaning and rocking your hips as you go.

Jin pulls away and smiles at you.

“I love you,” you say.

His eyes grow wide.

“Wait, what did you say?”

You narrow your eyes and grin. “You heard me.”

“No, I need to hear it again,” Jin says, “I didn’t quite get it.”

“Jin.”

“My hearing, it’s a little on the fritz. If you could just---”

“I love you,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I love you.” Another kiss. “I love you.”

You pull him into a slow, deep kiss, running your hands down from his hair, down the sides of his neck, and down to his arms. You rock forward, forcing his head to rest back on the top of the seat, pressing down onto his lap with your warmth, and sliding your hands up his chest. He grabs your waist, pushing down to feel every inch of you on top of him. You writhe against each other, and you feel him hardening underneath you.

His phone rings.

“Answer it,” you say, breathless as you move to his neck.

Jin swipes up without even checking to see who it is. “Hello?”

“What the fuck is going on, dude? Everyone’s going apeshit over here over some presentation you gave?” Namjoon asks in a hurried whisper.

“I’ve gotta go, she loves me,” Jin replies, hanging up.

He turns to you, and his lips connect with yours again, mashing and sucking and pulling you into one another.

His phone rings again.

He lets it ring twice.

“Answer it,” you say again, planting yourself on his neck again.

Jin checks the caller ID. “It’s just Yoongi.”

“Answer it like you did just now,” you say, running your hands behind Jin’s back, between the fabric of his dress shirt and the silk of his suit jacket.

Jin smirks. “You’re getting off on all this?”

“Yup,” you say, biting on his neck a little.

He chuckles. “Hello?”

“You and Friday are on every financial channel and stream,” Yoongi replies. “Are you seeing this? What’s this all about?”

“Can’t talk, she loves me,” Jin says, hanging up.

Jin’s lips find your collarbone, and you moan, grinding down harder and starting to sweat.

“Fuck, do you want to be CEO? Do you want the entire company? I’ll give it all to you,” Jin mutters, reaching for your shirt buttons.

“Not yet,” you say, taking his hands in yours and kissing them. “Wait ‘til we get there.”

“Get where?”

His phone rings again. Hobi’s face pops up on the screen.

“Hello, she loves me, bye,” Jin says quickly, hanging up and squeezing you so tightly that you think you might explode.

You make it through the entire group before you park in front of Jin’s apartment building. You scramble off of him and try to rearrange yourself to look as nonchalant as possible, but the lipstick all over Jin’s face will make it hard for the driver not to know what has just been going on in the back seat.

“Uh, Friday, can you get out first?” Jin asks, worried.

“It’ll come right off,” you say, as you rub your forearm over his face, making one clean swipe.

“No, it’s not that, it’s, uh…”

Jin looks down at his massive erection. With how thick and long he is, his pants have no choice but to bulge out.

You move to the door facing the building, and the driver helps you out of the car. You ask him some mundane question about the traffic at this time of day as Jin gets out of the car and gets his suit jacket off. He hangs it over his arm and drapes it in front of him.

You thank the driver and quickly walk inside.

You get in the elevator to Jin’s penthouse, and he slams you up against the wall.

“How did you get my slides?” you ask, wrapping yourself around Jin and kissing his neck.

“Your Appa was able to find them in the system,” Jin says, unbuttoning your shirt and sighing at the sight of your breasts.

“Oh, ladies. You look spectacular. Well done today.”

You giggle and smack him on the arm before diving into another kiss. You hook your leg around his waist, and he dips down to embrace your hips, pulling you up and carrying you toward the elevator doors.

When they open, he strides into the room, and you reach back to undo your bun. You shake your hair loose, and Jin watches with awe. He carries you to his room, holding you close as you continue rocking against him wildly, your tongues practically down each others’ throats.

He stands at the foot of his bed and holds you tightly with one arm. He uses his free hand to pull your shirt off of you, then to undo your pants, and then to pull those off of you as well.

He tosses you into the bed, and you bite your lip as he strips, locking eyes with you and grinning devilishly. It’s a sight to behold, him standing there, shirtless, undoing his belt buckle and tossing it to the ground, eyeing you like he has something unspeakable in store.

You lean back and spread out against his sheets, still writhing and smiling, welcoming anything, everything, that Jin wants to give you.

He crawls on top of you and kisses you, running his hands all over your body, his perfect lips kissing down your neck and onto your chest. He pulls you back up to undo the clasp of your bra in the back.

“That picture,” you whisper. “The bonfire.”

“You seemed to like it,” Jin comments.

You smile at him.

“Looked like just a couple of college kids out for some fun,” you say, moaning a little.

“Is that how you want it?” Jin asks.

You nod excitedly.

He bites his lip. “I can definitely, definitely do that for you.”

He tosses your bra to the side, and he dives into your bosom, wrapping his tongue around each nipple and massaging each breast until you feel like you might come just from that. Then, he travels down your body and reaches your underwear, pulling them down and seeing how wet you already are for him. He moans at the sight, and after he pulls them off of you, he slingshots them into your face, making you squeal and fake whine.

You both laugh, and he takes the underwear from you, kissing you where they landed. And then he goes to your pussy, pressing his hands into your folds and making you clench at how sudden he was, and how cold his fingers are.

He licks his lips as he watches his fingers work their magic. You smile at him and think how much he looks like he’s under a spell. Under your spell.

When you start to tighten, he pulls his hands away, and you whine.

“I thought you wanted to have some fun,” Jin replies, kneeling on the floor and pulling you to him, your warm flesh meeting his eager mouth.

He sucks and licks at you, and you rock against him, grabbing his hair and moaning. You see your legs starting to shake, and you sigh in delight.

“Fuck, yes, Jin, I’m so close.”

Just when he’s about to send you over the edge, he picks you up and rolls you over, slapping the lips of your pussy and the cheeks of your ass a couple of times with… something? Something light? Something soft, but something that catches the air.

You turn back and see Jin softly spanking you with your own underwear, winding it up and cracking it like a whip, like he probably has with his stupid friends in the gym locker room.

You start laughing, but then he lunges forward. He balls up your underwear in his fist. He climbs on top of you and presses his lips next to your ear.

“Open,” Jin whispers.

You open your mouth, and he stuffs your underwear inside, just enough to be playful.

And then he grabs you by the hips. You’re so wet, but you hear and feel him spit into you, making you shiver. He smears his spit into your juices with his fingers, and he slides his middle finger inside of you.

Your hips automatically rock you forward and backward, riding the length of that strong finger. Your mouth drips with saliva and wets your underwear even more. Before long, you realize that you’re not just moaning. You’re wailing. You sound like one of those girls that Jin has brought home. But then again, you are Jin’s home.

You lose Jin’s finger, but you gain his beautiful cock, slowly pushing into you, and then starting to ram into you harder and faster until you’re moving so fast that every part of both of you is jiggling furiously, forcing sweat out of both of you.

You’re starting to find it hard to breathe, and Jin somehow senses it. He pulls your underwear out of your mouth and lets you gasp for air, but then his fingers start to wrap around your throat.

He somehow starts ramming into you even harder and faster, and you welcome his tightening grasp around your neck. When you start to see stars, you groan, and Jin relaxes his grip, stroking your neck with his fingers caringly. He whispers your name over and over, slapping your ass and planting kisses on your back, telling you how sexy you are, and how much he loves you.

Soon, the culmination of all that edging, all that need for release, spills out of you both, a mix of juice and cum and sweat staining his sheets.

You fall onto the bed, shuddering and panting, and Jin falls on top of you, holding you tightly, keeping you from falling, keeping you from breaking wide open.

“Holy shit,” you moan, shaking against him as he kisses you. “Holy shit… Jin, h-holy shit… I can’t even s-see straight… I can’t…”

“Shh,” Jin whispers calmly, running his smile over your cheek. “Breathe.”

You lie there and wait however long it takes to come down from that glorious high, face-melting, soul-crushing high. You dip in and out of consciousness. You realize that you cried.

You take one big breath, and then you focus your eyes on Jin’s. He sees you becoming clear again. He runs his hand over your hair, helping to get the sweaty, saliva-covered strands off of you.

“You good?” he asks.

You shake your head at him. Your jaw is hanging open. You don’t even know what to say.

He chuckles. “Friday?”

“I-I’m good.”

“Good,” Jin says, in a low, happy voice.

He kisses you sweetly.

And then he rolls onto his back, lying beside you.

Then, he suddenly lets out one, long, huge, celebratory whoop, pumping his fists and kicking his feet into the air joyously and making you laugh, helping you get more air as you gasp and double-over.

He sidles up next to you and kisses your cheek. Nibbles your ear. Licks the lobe.

“That was fucking fun!” he says, spanking your thigh.

You turn to him and grin. You hook your leg around his hip, and you kiss him deeply. You pull away and sigh.

“No joke.”

You’ve forgone dresses for so long that you’ve kind of forgotten how to wear them. You try to go with something that makes you comfortable. The long sleeves make you feel normal, but you haven’t quite adjusted to the fact that they’re off the shoulder and only attach to the bustline-revealing bodice with thin strips of fabric that you will most likely tear at some point in the evening. The full skirt makes you feel like you can hide a little, but the peekaboo slit and the lack of fabric separating your legs still makes you feel so naked and exposed.

You also aren’t sure about the color: deep, brilliant purple.

But when Jin sees you in his bathroom, lips in full pout as you put the final touches on your makeup, he realizes that he’s never seen someone wear a dress, really wear a dress, before, and he gives you the reassurance that you need.

“You look so gorgeous and royal,” he breathes.

“Yeah, like a royal slut,” you say, look down at your chest.

“That’s the best part,” Jin replies, walking over to you and leaning down for a kiss.

“Nope,” you say, dodging him. “I spent hours on this. We can’t mess it up until later.”

Jin’s satisfied, given that you’ve tagged on the word, “later”. But he leans down further to plant a kiss on your exposed chest.

“Ladies, you’ve never looked more beautiful.”

You smile as he takes one more moment to drink you in. You take the opportunity to do the same, admiring Jin’s build in that perfectly tailored tuxedo with tails, a deep, brilliant, matching purple handkerchief in his pocket.

Before you get too heated, you both turn to the mirror and finish getting ready.

“I’m glad you’re wearing one of your own suits,” you tease. “You look better in them.”

Jin rolls his eyes and reaches for his cufflinks.

“This month sped by,” you say.

He adjusts his sleeves and does one last check in the mirror.

“Can’t believe Mr. Kim is throwing us a party,” you reply.

Finally, Jin turns to you and smiles knowingly. He looks a little sad.

“I know you’re trying to make small talk because you don’t want to get too emotional because I’m flying out tonight instead of tomorrow,” he says matter-of-factly. “But I’m only going to be gone for a couple of weeks.”

You frown.

You two have been so successful. Your month-long training actually turned into a full month of work. In the time that you were supposed to be learning the ropes, you’ve run the business. You’ve brought in so many new clients, and along with them, more profits. People are regularly coming to you to learn what they can pass on to driven, talented women like yourself. You share the message that all women are driven and talented, and that the barriers are more about access. Your current project is setting up a scholarship fund to help right that wrong.

And Jin has been so captivating in his pitches and interviews that he’s already gotten speaking engagements and consultations lined up through the rest of next year. He’s been on so many food and wine magazine covers that people think he’s a restauranteur when they see you on the street. Your team is responsible for so many new opportunities, helping others build their lives, or start their lives over again. It’s certainly something to celebrate.

People enjoy working again. There’s a sense of passion. Of purpose.

So, the reason you frown is that you can’t believe that Jin is going to be ripped away from you.

Just six weeks ago, you would have jumped at the chance not to have to make sure that Jin has taken all of his multivitamins for the day, or to go back and forth with him about whether a hot dog is technically a sandwich.

But now, things are different. More meaningful. In so many ways.

“We’ve spent every day together for the past twenty years,” you say.

Jin nods quickly. “I know, and to be honest with you, I’m freaking out.”

You laugh at each other with worried expressions.

Then, Jin smiles. “But this is what we wanted, and it’s on our terms, and we can do this.”

“You’ve become a good cheerleader,” you comment, his words helping you choke down the emotional lump in your throat.

“I learned from the best,” Jin says, ignoring your command and going in for a kiss anyway.

You get into your driver’s car, catch up on your day, and before long, you’ve arrived. The party that Mr. Kim is throwing in celebration of Jin’s and your official arrival on the scene is taking place at the same restaurant that Jin took you to after that horrible day with Kwan. You’ve helped it grow into a stalwart of the city. It sets the tone and pace for innovation in the local food world, with international buzz growing steadily. Jin’s savviness with food provides a powerful punch with his clients because they feel like he understands them, as well as wants to protect them. You’re truly seeing him unlock his full potential, and you couldn’t be more impressed and proud.

Jin holds you close and navigates through the room in the same way. He can’t believe he’s with you, the most intelligent, caring, and powerful woman that he or anyone he knows has ever met. He finds that when you own your qualities and decisions, you come alive in a new way. A more authentic way. Your genuine way helps you form important bonds with the women leaders you bring into the business. And your natural self glows brighter as a result, as evidenced by your big, natural, curly, beautiful hair framing your face and blowing people away.

Jimin seems to pick up on this first, as you and Jin join them at your table.

“You look different,” Jimin says, his eyes wide.

The rest of the guys gawk at you.

“Don’t stare too hard, boys,” Jin says, warningly.

Yoongi’s and Jungkook’s eyes immediately shoot down to the table, but Namjoon, Hobi, Jimin, and Taehyung’s eyes linger a little longer.

“So are we getting shit-faced or what?” you ask, making them all laugh.

Jungkook, who’s sitting beside you, happily slides a shot glass over to you. “We had these ready and waiting,” he tells you.

You all do a shot. You’re still not sure what it is, or if you’re doing it right, or if you even like them. But it doesn’t matter tonight.

“How does it feel?” Namjoon asks.

“What?” you ask, your mind reeling at all the possible things Yoongi could mean.

“To be a part of the event,” he says. “Y’know. Instead of planning it and creeping around in the shadows like a little troll.”

“It’s interesting,” you say. “I don’t know if I’ve formed an opinion one way or the other. Maybe it’ll depend on whether you all fuck it up somehow.”

“So, no on the shrooms?” Jungkook asks, holding up a plastic bag and getting ready to dole them out.

“Save them for later,” Taehyung says, and Jungkook nods happily, stashing the bag in his inside pocket.

“You might not have planned the event, but do you know what the menu is?” Hobi asks, annoyed. “I’m starving.”

“As long as it isn’t pizza,” you say, looking at him. “This dress cost a fortune.”

Hobi blushes when you call him out, but you extend an olive branch of a smile.

“It might not have come through in the way Jimin said it, but, uh, you look, uh, nice, Friday,” Yoongi says.

“Thanks, Yoongi.”

“And it’s nice to have you here,” Yoongi adds.

“I’m always here,” you reply.

“Yeah, but, y’know.” Yoongi gestures to the group. “Back at the kids’ table,” he says, shrugging.

You smile at him. You turn to Jin and lean into his embrace.

“Ugh,” Namjoon mutters, as the others groan.

“Are you two gonna be like this all night?” Jimin replies.

Jin plants a kiss on your cheek, and they all groan again.

The night goes on without incident. Mr. Kim even lets himself get a little drunk. He boasts about Jin’s successes as of late, but he ties it up with a sweet note about how Jin has always been the apple of his eye.

Mr. Kim says some kind words about you as well. That for every trait that Jin has, you have been there to help foster it, bringing out the best in him at every turn. He tells the story about you giggling as a newborn. He tells everyone that he knew you would save them all.

And then you’re back in the car, driving to a private airport.

You stand on the tarmac with him, trying not to be a little bitch about not seeing each other for a measly two weeks. You know you won’t fall apart, and you’re not even sure if this will work out in the long term, but you feel so dumb for having wasted all the time that you could have spent coming together in the way you have recently.

“Earlier, you said that we’ve spent every day together for the past twenty years,” Jin says.

“Mmhmm,” you say.

“Well, I don’t want to break that streak. So, when I come home in two weeks, I’m going to ask you to marry me,” he says.

You laugh. “OK, Jin.”

“I mean it,” he says. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to fly into this airport, walk out onto the tarmac, and you’re going to be waiting for me, wearing something awesome. And then we’re going to get in a car together, and we’re going to drive back out to the woods. We’re gonna fuck in every room of our little hideaway. Maybe multiple times. And then, when we’re lying together, I’m going to pull out the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen, and I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

“Sure,” you say, rolling your eyes, “and what do you expect me to do?”

“Say yes,” Jin says, looking a little hurt.

“Get on the plane, Jin.”

He pulls you close and kisses you one last time.

“I love you, Friday.”

You smile at him.

“I love you, too, Jin.”

His eyes widen in shock, making you laugh.

“You love me?” Jin shouts, faking like it’s the first time you’ve said it, stepping back and throwing his fists in the air. “You love me?”

The look on your face is so fond and soft, just like the day you first kissed him on the cheek. Jin had been waiting his whole life to see that same expression fully on your face instead of in shades, through some unnecessary filter. The past few weeks had given him that, and he still hasn’t seemed to tire of it.

“You’re so in love with me!”

You slap his chest. “Get on the plane!”

He picks you up and bounces you into the air.

“I love you! God, I fucking love you so much!”

“Yes, yes, I’ve said that I love you, now please, get on the damn plane! You’re going to be late!”

“Two weeks, Friday!” Jin says, kissing you again.

“No more drinking tonight! And get some sleep!” you say, as Jin sets you back down on the ground and heads toward the plane.

He turns back around and waves at you. “Two weeks!” he calls.

TWO WEEKS LATER: PRESENT DAY

You primped the best that you could, and there’s no turning back now. The car is all the way out on the tarmac, and even if it could get you back to the tiny, private airport, the bathroom is just a sad, single stall with terrible lighting, and you don’t have any makeup or tools on you.

You get out of the car and shove your hands in your huge coat’s pockets, bouncing a little in the face of the cool breeze. Your hood keeps your hair in place. You’re grateful, because you spent ages on it.

You wonder if it’s enough for the plan that Jin had set.

The plane lands in the distance and taxis up to its spot in front of you. The door opens, the staircase pops out, and after a couple of personnel exit the plane, Jin appears. He’s smiling broadly at you, bounding down the steps and running to you. You think about his kindergarten graduation, and how he bounded down the planks of the treehouse, scampering over to you with his face painted like a dog’s.

“Hi,” you laugh warmly, and he kisses you so deeply that you almost wrap yourself around him.

Jin pulls away and looks at you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

He takes your hand in his, and you walk over to the car. Your driver opens the door and lets you both in. When your driver sits back in the driver’s seat, they go ahead and put up the partition without having to be asked.

Jin looks at you and frowns.

“What?” you ask.

“Is the plan still on?” Jin asks.

“You tell me,” you say.

“Oh, I’m definitely still down for the plan,” Jin says, “but I believe I told you to wear something awesome?”

He frowns at your huge, black, shapeless puffy coat and worn sneakers.

“It’s cold, Jin,” you say, annoyed.

“I guess we can tweak the plan,” he says loftily, looking out the window.

You sigh and remove your hood, and Jin grins now that he can see your hair and face a bit better.

“That works,” Jin says, leaning forward and kissing you.

You grin. You slowly pull the zipper of your coat down, revealing that you’re wearing nothing but a black negligee underneath.

Jin’s eyes pop open, and his mouth immediately starts to water.

“Does this work, too?” you ask.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.

He almost has to slurp up his drool while answering you.

You smirk as you watch Jin having to sit through this ridiculously long car ride to get to the hideaway. As soon as you arrive at the unpaved path, he impatiently leaps out of the car and picks you up, hurrying to the front door, and throwing you onto the couch, stripping you out of your coat and old sneakers.

The first few kisses are soft and sweet, but they become more aching and desperate as things heat up. “I thought about you every day,” Jin whispers. “What you were doing. What you looked like. What you ate.”

“Aw.”

“What you pooped out.”

You scrunch your face up. “Jin.”

“Everywhere I went,” he says, “wherever they told me to go, anytime I left a room, I felt like I was forgetting something. I kept feeling around for my keys, wallet, watch. And each time, I realized, oh yeah, Friday’s not here. That’s what’s missing. Friday. I miss Friday.”

“I’m glad I’m as indispensable to you as your keys, your wallet, and/or your watch,” you say sarcastically.

“I’m saying that I don’t want to be without you again,” Jin says.

He strips off his shirt as he travels down your body, his hands following each curve and bend so delicately and lovingly. He presses kisses all over your skin. He fumbles with his fly as he kneels and presses his mouth against you, delighting in the realization that you’re not wearing underwear.

“No panties?” he asks.

“Did you miss them, too?” you purr.

“All the better to choke you with, my dear,” he teases, and you playfully kick him.

He licks at you and loves how wet you already are for him. How wet you always are for him.

And soon, he’s pressing into you, fucking you slowly, telling you how beautiful you are, and how beautiful life is with you in it.

You come, and it feels like wading into a hot spring, the water surrounding you, even healing you.

And then Jin, catching his breath and saving himself for another round, says, “Come in, Alpha!”

Alpha rolls in, following its trained path and setting a small, pink box, tied with thin, black ribbon, on the table.

“CONGRATULATIONS, ASSHOLES!” Alpha greets before disappearing.

You smile. You lean forward and open the box.

Inside sits a ring that looks just like the one Kwan got you. A gaudy, huge diamond.

You sigh, a bit disappointed. “Why does everyone always think that this is what people want?” you ask. “I’m not into this showy nonsense. I want something that means something.”

“Like this?” Jin asks.

He pulls a different ring from his pants pocket and shows it to you.

It’s a simple, gold band with a gorgeous, perfectly-sized, teardrop-shaped opal. No diamonds.

“It was my great-grandmother’s engagement ring,” he explains. “My great-grandfather had just given it to her before the war. Before your great-grandfather saved him. Before you saved me. Before our paths ever intertwined. But I want the stories of the past and of our futures to stay connected. I don’t want to go another day without you.”

He looks at you.

“What do you think?”

“It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen,” you admit, taking Jin’s face in your hands and kissing him deeply.

Jin smiles, still holding the ring out to you. “Then, will you marry me?”

You grin back.

“No.”

“No?” Jin asks, knowing you’re joking, but also a little worried that you aren’t.

You take the ring and place it on your left ring finger.

“I thought you said that before you proposed, we were going to fuck in every room of this hideaway,” you remind him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close.

“Ah, yes,” Jin says, almost moaning, almost whispering, his voice so gentle. “An oversight. My mistake. Let’s see the plan through, then.”

“Let’s.”

He picks you up in his strong arms and kisses you deeply. He carries you to the stairs. And you tell him which room you want to start in.

← 04: I Will Live in Thy Heart, Die in Thy Lap, and be Buried in Thine Eyes | End

Hideaway | Masterpost

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rosequartzstarswrites · 3 years

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20 Questions for Writers

Thank you @cheesyficwriter for the tag!

How many works do you have on AO3?

What's your total AO3 word count?

351,699

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

As of now, I have only written for Harry Potter; however, in February I began several LOTR/Hobbit WIPs that I have not yet published. The first one is due out at the start of September though!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In Another Universe: Hermione Granger is brilliant: she completed her PhD in Linguistics at 25, and is the youngest faculty member at the University. Ron Weasley, an unruly quantum physicist... well, he's getting there. But when Granger gets stacked with a project she hates and has to talk to other scholars at the University, their paths cross and become permanently intertwined in a way neither of them could've ever anticipated. (Slow Burn Multichap Muggle Uni AU) Rated T.

Rosebury Grounds: Lady Hermione Granger has been reared up in society, to marry well and be a good housewife, like any good Edwardian lady, but that's far from what she wants. When a handyman by the name of Ronald Weasley joins the house staff, utterly disarming her from the moment they first meet, he might just be the opportunity she needs to break loose and choose her own destiny.Lord Draco Malfoy has a secret— a secret he knows would cost him everything if it ever saw the light. But it's getting harder and harder to keep it from his father, because Draco keeps bumping into a pair of emerald eyes and a head of lush black hair, and he can't pretend his knees don't buckle at the sight. Which would be quite alright, if not for one small problem: it's not a woman they belong to.Two tales of forbidden love, set in Edwardian England. (Multichap Muggle AU) Rated M.

Something Growing: Hermione’s pregnant— and she’s freaking out. She’s always been good at everything, but she’s not sure that’ll hold for being a mother; however, when Ron gets home earlier than expected, she realizes she doesn’t need to be great at everything so long as she’s got him beside her. (Oneshot) Rated G.

Big in Japan: Harry Potter is a famous rockstar out on a world tour— but when one too many meet-and-greets threatens to drive him insane, he takes an escapade out into the streets of Tokyo, where he ends up at an expat bar with a captivating redhead that seems totally unaware of who he is, or why she should know him at all, for that matter. (Muggle AU oneshot) Rated E.

Teaspoon Vindication: After escaping Malfoy Manor, Ron comes to visit Hermione in her room at Shell Cottage, and does the one thing that may be the hardest for him— talking about his feelings. (Romione oneshot)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try my best, though I don’t always get to all of them! My reasoning is that if folks are kind enough to tell me how much they enjoyed my writing, the least I can do is thank them for their lovely words.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

The Last Farewell! It’s a Wolfstar oneshot, set in canon universe, where Remus comes to Sirius’s grave to ask for his blessing (and forgiveness) to marry Tonks. It was angst central from the start and I even wrote it while listening to an angsty song.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I generally write happy, fade-to-black endings, but if I had to choose I’d say Truth or Dare. This is a male!Hermione x Ron summer camp AU born of a game of spin-the-bottle/truth-or-dare that ends with them figuring out their feelings go beyond friendship. I say it is the happiest ending because I think the “boy figuring out he likes boys” scenario has been overdone in angst a bit too much, and the fact that the feelings are reciprocated and they decide to stay in touch would make me giddy if I was their age and in their shoes. Anyway, it’s just a sweet ending.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

Not at all— I actually don’t like crossovers at all, so I have never even entertained reading, let alone writing, one. (No hate at all to those with imaginations large and strong enough to conjure up awesome crossovers— I am in awe of you all, they’re just not for me!)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Never, luckily, since the Romione community is so lovely and supportive! But, though not outright hate, for a while I had an anonymous FFN reviewer who left reviews on every chapter of Rosebury Grounds saying that my title was a porn/sex act...? I was distraught and scoured Google to see if they really were right and this was some obscure euphemism I’d entirely missed, but turns out it wasn’t, and they had gotten confused with a vulgar but similar term. So I ignored those reviews but they kept coming and then eventually one time I found a 500 word very graphic description of the sex act in question in my reviews, so desperate was the reviewer (apparently) to get their (wrong) point across. Yikes.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes! I’ve written a lot and of many kinds— explicit, implied, just foreplay, fade-to-black, referenced... I’ve written both M/F and M/M.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No— I didn’t even know that was something I should worry about!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I speak fluent Spanish, so I’m planning on translating In Another Universe and Rosebury Grounds myself once I’ve finished the latter.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, the most I’ve done is beta from the plot-building stage!

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Gahhhh don’t make me pick! Romione (HP) is first in my heart because I see so much of myself and what I want in it, but Samfro (LOTR) is, to me, the truest depiction of love in all of literature, ever. I will forever come back to it.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I hope to finish my Hogwarts Actually series that I started for Romionecom (hi, Discord friends!) inspired by Love Actually. I have it all planned out, translating all the relationships in the movie to HP pairings and friendships, and all I need to do is write— but I think I’ll come back to this periodically and unoften. Hopefully I’ll finish it!

What are your writing strengths?

I like to think that I write good and witty dialogue. I’m a theatre person, so I think my dialogue sounds mostly natural when spoken. I also have a good sense of beginning and ending, so most of my works/chapters start and end with a memorable phrase of some sort. I also have excellent grammar and spelling, so except for a few occasional typos, that makes the job of proofing much easier!

What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I sometimes write sentences that are waaaay too long and convoluted. I use words that are too big sometimes and just take approachability from my writing. Fanfic has been excellent to practice correcting this, though!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

As a bilingual writer myself— don’t write dialogue in other languages unless you speak it well or get it translated directly through someone who speaks it well. Though I appreciate the effort, I can always tell when something was put through Google Translate, and that kind of dialogue most often ends up lacking the context clues/colloquial familiarity of real language speakers, and ends up sounding stiff and forced.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I’m not proud of it, but I used to write MCR RPF back when I was 13 or so. It was a very brief stint and I have since deleted the works in their entirety, since my principles have evolved to the place where RPF to me seems disrespectful and invasive. Plus, it was on Wattpad.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

Again, don’t make me pick please!! I truly have had a lot of fun with Rosebury and I think it is a testament to how much I love it that I was able to keep the idea on hold for a full six months before I started writing it. I love the Downton setting and the Edwardian dialogue is a lot of fun to me. But I also have a soft spot for the In Another Universe original oneshot I submitted to the RFF2020— that work awoke my love for Muggle AUs (which I like to think I’m most known for), inspired me to start work on my first multichap fic, and keeps me coming back to it anytime I have doubt in my ability to write swoonworthy scenes. It was the oneshot that started it all.

Tagging: @accio-broom @be11atrixthestrange @folk-melody (and anyone else who would like to!)

#fanfiction #fanfic writer #rosequartzstars #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic author

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dreamcatcherjiah · 3 years

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Part 9

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

Part 9

A/n: Here is part 9!!! With this part, I’ve come to realise that guilt does play a nice part in the creative process, lool. It’s taken me centuries to get to a point where I felt like writing at all, I can hardly believe I managed to take this chapter into the four thousand word mark! I hope you guys like it. It is not so much where I wanted it to be, but I’m getting there!

Love you guys and I missed you a lot!🖤

As consciousness was claiming you back, your heart settled in your chest with a feeling of contentment and happiness you hadn’t felt before. Hoseok’s arm was flung over your waist and his hand was moving against your spine in soft caresses. You hadn’t moved from the position you fell asleep in and, waking up but still with your eyes closed, you could feel his soft breath against your eyelashes. Your heart jumped in your chest as his arms tightened against you, snuggling you closer to his chest. With a smile, you slung your own arm over Hoseok’s ribcage and settled your head in against his throat. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed you again.

You heard Hoseok’s little yelp before you actually opened your eyes. He tensed for a second and tried prying his arm from under your neck. He was making small distressed noises trying not to wake you up but achieving totally the opposite; make you laugh. It started slow, as a small chuckle at the back of your throat that escalated into a full giggle when you opened your eyes and saw his startled expression. His eyes were open wide and his mouth was hanging open forming a heart-shaped half smile that began morphing into a full grin the longer you laughed. Instinctively, you tightened your arms around his torso and hid your face against his chest to try and calm yourself.

“And here I thought you were going to flip and send me flying from the bed,” he laughed, draping himself back around you and settling back in the bed with you in his arms.

“I haven’t felt happier than I am feeling now, I don’t ever want to let you go,” you whispered, more relaxed than you remembered ever being, letting out a calming sigh as you looked up at his smiling face, “I do know this feeling is the bond messing with our pheromones but I just don’t want it to end.”

His smile grew the biggest you had ever seen it and he dropped a kiss to your forehead. Laying back down on the bed, the both of you spent the morning talking about your lives, how you had started feeling each other through the bond at such an early age. Hoseok told you many things about his grandmother, how she had been the one to break the news of the bond to him when he was not older than two. He could still remember, he told you with a wistful smile, how the old woman would cuddle him to her chest and create new stories for him, how she would, as he grew older, talk about her meeting with Hoseok’s grandfather through the Red String of Fate.

“You must have been fascinated by those stories,” you whispered, while your hand absentmindedly drew patterns over his chest, with your head moving up and down as he drew breaths and exhaled, “I can just imagine a little Hobi smiling and listening to her telling him fairytales.”

He startled and turned his head so he could look at you. A small frown was present on his features and you wanted nothing more than touch it with your fingers and make it disappear.

“Well, not so much fairytales, since we know for a fact it is real, don’t you think?” That settled the mood into something more sombre than when you woke up. All the things, all the meetings and responsibilities waiting for you outside that room rushed to the forefront of both your minds and the blissfulness dulled to a warm sense of wellbeing around your heart. “I can’t believe how comfortable I feel with you, just like this. Do you think it has to do with us sleeping together?” He asked and you watched as his features morphed into mortification when he realised how the words that just left his lips may have sounded, “I only… I meant sleeping— as in, you know, just sleeping… no, hugging you in your sleep— wait, no, that sounds creepy… you know—.”

You giggled against his chest just as you had done that same morning as you woke up. He was an adorable mess when he was flustered.

“I do know what you mean,” you responded, deciding to take him out of his misery, “in fact, that’s what I wanted to tell you last night, but my brain was too fried to form a coherent thought.”

“Is your brain okay now?” He asked, looking intently at your head, as if the answer would somehow just jump out of it and he wouldn’t have to look you in the eye.

Pushing against his chest to get into a more comfortable position, you rested your head in your hand and watched as he changed his position, half laying, half sitting against he headboard with an arm supporting his head. His other arm, as if neither of you noticed, was still resting on your shoulder blade, drawing small patterns.

“My brain is much clearer now,” you smirked, “mind you, it still thinks you’re extremely hot and can’t stop thinking scenarios, but I can control it,” only seeing how red his ears got made you regret having spoken too freely. After all, you two were still strangers, you were a fan at that and that kind of comments were highly inappropriate in any sort of situation. “Too soon?” You asked, avoiding his eyes, which wasn’t too difficult to do as he was busy himself examining the pristine ceiling as if he would find a blemish there if he focused intently enough.

With a huff, he scoffed and tightened the hold of his arm around your shoulder. “No, it’s just— I think the bond is producing the same thoughts both ways…”

That sure was an effective way to shut you up. You left your head fall from where your hand was supporting it and felt how Hoseok’s heart hammered against his ribcage on your cheek as it lay on his chest. With the way he was behaving, you would have bet and lost on him not being as affected as you were by the bond. It was time you admitted that the bond went through both of you, it would be the fastest way to get used to it and stop feeling awkward every time something escaped your mind.

“Hey,” he called, lifting your face from its hiding place and placing another sweet kiss on your forehead, “I can feel you getting ashamed and I’m not going to let you, okay?” His eyes were completely focused on yours, no trace of that semi-permanent blush that had been there since your first meeting, “We’re in this together, we’re both learning and it’s gonna take it’s sweet time, but just think about it. One day, we’ll be comfortable together, it will feel as if it’s the most natural thing to wake up in each other’s arms, even if it doesn’t now, okay?”

“It does feel like the most natural thing in the world…” you whispered, too shy to voice your thoughts aloud.

“What does?” Hoseok asked, making his lips turn into a small pout with his confusion.

Battling your shame and feeling how your cheeks got hotter and hotter as the blood rushed around in your ears, you wondered what he would do if you lied, if you made something up, other than what you had actually said. His eyes were still wide open, looking straight at you, and maybe that was it, or maybe was the way his body fit perfectly with yours and how your always screaming rational side had chosen that specific moment to shut up and bask in the wellness your soulmate was radiating to you. It may have been a spur-of-the-moment thing, but you told him the absolute truth.

“Waking up in your arms,” you answered while looking him straight in the eyes.

They got even wider as his brain registered the new bombshell you had decided to drop on him and then, they traveled all over your face as if they were looking for any sign of you lying. Obviously, he couldn’t find a lie anywhere, everything you’d said was the pure, even if a bit embarrassing, truth. Then his eyes dropped to your lips and the temperature in the room rose to an unbearable extreme. Your heart, somehow dormant after the relaxing morning, did a somersault in your chest and started beating at an alarming speed, pumping blood to every crevice of your body, alerting you of every movement of your soulmate’s body, the way his breathing had also increased and he seemed unable to let go of you, bringing you closer and closer to him as the seconds ticked away. If you hadn’t been paying attention to him, you may have missed the way his pupils dilated and almost covered all the deep brown surrounding them, the way his mouth slightly opened as if the wind had been knocked out of him and the only thing he could do was try to breath. Your bodies were melting into the mattress, a mess of taut muscles and electric shocks, intertwined and beating in unison. In the back of your head you could feel a warning, something telling you that you would regret whatever happened if you gave yourselves to the bond. You would later thank him for his kindness in dealing with your messy feelings in the moment, but when his words were uttered, a frustrated sigh left your lips.

“Y/N…” he exhaled, his breath ghosting over your cheeks and sending a shiver down your spine, “Y/N, take a deep breath. Close your eyes, focus on…” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “breathing.”

Listening to his voice, you followed his instructions and turned your head away from his face. The situation had nearly gotten out of hand and you should thank your lucky stars he at least had kept some of his mind working, because the mortification that would have come out of such situation could have lasted for longer than you cared to admit. Both his hands were going up and down your back and he was whispering to himself to get his act together. You focused on his voice. Only his voice and rested your head on his shoulder looking away from him.

Little by little, sanity came back to you. As soon as Hoseok felt your uneasiness, his hold on you tightened and his hands stilled on your waist; he wouldn’t allow you to feel ashamed of what had happened. You could feel determination and affection coming out of him in waves and you decided right there and then that you would give back just as much.

“Let’s do something,” his voice, still affected, whispered into the shell of your ear, “we go at our own pace, okay? Let’s go with what it feels right for both of us.”

You smiled. Somehow he had voiced one of the hundred thoughts going around in your head: is this going too fast? He was right, you had to admit. What may be fast for the rest of the world, felt like a walk in the park for a pair of soulmates; the emotional connection was a given with the likes of you and, if the episode you experimented minutes before was anything to go by, the physical connection was there as well. The only thing missing was knowing him. Really knowing him. And he had gauged your reaction to him to perfection.

“We don’t have to answer to anyone else,” he kept saying, getting more and more relaxed, “as long as you and I are okay, then that’s all I want.”

Not needing an answer, he hugged you to his chest once more and kissed the crown of your head. He untangled himself from the mess of sheets and walked into the bathroom. It looked like the small bubble you had been enjoying most of the morning was about to burst. You rolled until your head was resting on Hoseok’s pillow and, with his scent surrounding you and overwhelming all your senses, you felt how your brain began to go back to normal. Something had clicked into place that night while you slept next to him. Your head, the rational you, that had been screaming bloody murder the prior night, completely refusing to loose its independence, had somehow recognised Hoseok as something good and essential to you. Your mind was now completely blank, not even registering the fact that Hoseok had moved away from you, the furthest you’d been since you met last night, and neither of you had even flinched.

You sat on the bed and stretched, your muscles relieving tension that had been building for years but that now was useless. Looking around, you saw your bag resting against a bookshelf next to the window and didn’t even think twice before getting up and going to get it. You were reaching down to lift it from the floor when the door to the bathroom opened and you pivoted only to see a still-wet Hoseok jumping on one foot as he tried to straighten his shirt with only one sock on.

“Oh! Are you okay?” You asked, worried he might have fallen in the shower and hurt himself or something, not even realising you would have felt or heard something if that was the case.

“I just—” he groaned as his knee nocked against the corner of the bed as he hastily approached you, “I was completely fine until I felt you moving away and I just… moved,” he looked incredibly confused, with his shirt now on and both socks in place, his hands were on his hips as his eyes shot daggers at the bed, “I didn’t even realise I could stand away from you until I could only think to get back to you.”

You smiled. The sweetness of his puzzlement moved you to the core. He was so fast to reassure you and yet, he walked on eggshells whenever he thought he might be overstepping his boundaries with you. Again, you were going to make sure he felt just how much you appreciated everything he had done for you since you met.

“Do you trust me?” You repeated your words from last night, making his head turn to you like lightning and his eyes analyse everything about you with a calculating focus that made you suddenly realise how intimidating it was to be the sole focus of Jhope’s attention. Carefully, he nodded but still his eyes didn’t stray away from you.

Without even thinking, you travelled the length of the room in two strides and threw your arms around is waist, your ear right above his heart and your hands resting lightly on his back. The sudden wave of euphoria you were expecting didn’t come, just like a mere shudder of warm honey bathing your skin, the familiarity that was already Hoseok didn’t phase you a bit. He chuckled and drove his arms around you as well, his hand caressing your hair and settling there, basking in the feeling of being together.

“It doesn’t feel invasive now, does it?” You asked, your bodies swaying side to side, “like you said before, our own time, Hoseok.”

“I love it when you say my name like that,” his voice sounded less affected than you’d ever heard it, you were wondering. He followed, “do you want to shower before breakfast? We’re supposed to be at BigHit in three hours, how do you feel about brunch?” If the mention of the impending meeting at his company phased you before, it didn’t even register as something negative in your mind now. He’d be with you.

“I think I’ll grab a shower before we leave, it’s a bit warm in here and I don’t want to shower twice if I sweat…” he nodded, tapping your head with his chin in the process, “and brunch sounds heavenly! I’m quite a bit hungry.”

As if on queue, both your stomachs growled at the same time, prompting the both of you into yet another round of giggles. If your future was going to be anything like this first morning, you were ready to laugh next to this man.

The kitchen was in pristine condition. If you didn’t know for a fact that seven men lived in the apartment you could have sworn that kitchen just came out of an IKEA catalogue. You sat on one of the chairs while Hoseok moved about between cupboards and counters. He was making salad and pulling huge containers out of the freezer. Cutting some kimchi and preparing some rice. If your calculations were right, that was too much food for only two people, but it was his house, his kitchen and his food, you weren’t about to contradict him. Maybe you could finish all that food, you were nearly starving after all.

So focused you were on ogling how he moved about the kitchen, with his hair getting fluffier as it dried, that you didn’t notice the sound of feet approaching the kitchen or some chairs being occupied next to you. You were forced out of your daydreaming by someone cleaning their throat to your right.

Turning in your seat, you were startled to find Kim Namjoon sitting next to you, his elbow on the table and his chin resting on his hand, imitating your same position. Were you really looking at Hoseok looking like that? Mortifination, here I come, you thought.

“How are you feeling this fine morning, miss Y/N?” He asked. He didn’t seem to be joking, even if his words may look like it, his eyes were serious and he sat, patiently waiting for you to answer. Looking around the kitchen, you noticed that Seokjin and Yoongi had also entered the kitchen and were busy pretending not to be paying attention at your conversation with Namjoon while preparing coffee and some kind of omelet. Hoseok wasn’t even being subtle at it and just smiled at you encouragingly only to turn and scoop a good amount of rice into a pink bowl. With a slight tilt of your head, you greeted them, thinking that introductions were long overdue but not knowing how get them out of the way without looking awkward. You decided to hold onto the lifeline Namjoon had thrown you and, looking back to him and finding him in the same position, smiled and answered his question.

“I am great, thank you very much,” your shaky smile turned into a genuine smile just as his did, and his dimples showed up, “Hoseok has been wonderful and I feel rested for the first time in years.”

A windshield boast of laughter interrupted the quiet calm of the kitchen as Seokjin threw his arm around hoseok and ruffled his hair.

“Did you all hear that? She calls him Hoseok and he’s been wonderful!” His laughter was contagious and even Yoongi ended up laughing along with the three of you as he settled in the chair across from yours. Hoseok brought over all the food and placed some of it under a small umbrella, for the little ones when they wake up, he told you. The four of you did a faster job of the food than you could have imagined. Apparently after Hoseok and you retired for the night, the rest of them had had a few celebratory drinks and had woken up hangover and hungry.

“It’s always like this, Y/N,” was telling you Yoongi, becoming quickly comfortable with you as Hoseok found more and more in common between the two of you, “we wake up early after we drink, make huge amounts of food and then, when the other three finish polishing up the plates, they clean. A nice symbiosis we’ve got here,” he finished, chuckling along with you at the image of the other three members of BTS finishing off the huge dishes the other four had set aside for them.

“Now, let’s talk business,” started Jin, after sharing a meaningful look with Namjoon, “what are we going to do with BigHit?”

Silence reigned in the kitchen then. You felt Hoseok tensing beside you and immediately relax. His feelings were a mess of nervousness, anticipation and apprehension, but on the outside he was calm and collected.

“Bang PD was okay with me having a soulmate, we’ll just go and talk to them, the PR team as well. But they should know things are changing. Y/N is here to stay,” he said as his hand got a hold of yours under the table. You had a feeling his brothers noticed but none of them did anything but nod at Hoseok’s words, as if taking it as fact.

“All of us will be there with you, of course,” was saying Namjoon, drinking his Americano with a metallic straw that reflected the light from the windows into your eyes. The whole thing looked just surreal to you, sitting in the kitchen table with Seokjin, Namjoon, Yoongi and your Soulmate Hoseok. How had your life turned into this? You wouldn’t know, “Y/N’s part of the family now. Someone will have to wake up Jimin, Tae and JK, but we’ll be ready to go when you guys are. I just need to know how many cars we’ll be needing to text Sejin.”

The other three seemed used to this complete 180 degree personality change, from the Namjoon who nearly stabbed his eye with the straw, to Kim Namjoon, RM, leader of BTS. You, on the other hand, were getting whiplash.

Sensing it, even before you did, Hoseok moved your hands from under the table and placed a light kiss on yours. His eyes connected with yours and as if he was speaking out loud for the whole house to hear, you heard his whisper: “This is normal, Y/N. I’m here, okay?”

You nodded. You just needed some time to get used to the new life thrown in front of you. You prided yourself in being a fast learner and quick to adapt to new situations. You would just have to floor it and get used to it faster.

As if you needed something else to get used to, just as Hoseok was lowering your hands back to the table, another pair of feet were heard entering the kitchen, followed by a sleepy Jimin, rubbing his face. His eyes glossed over the kitchen, seemingly taking notice of the people there and realising there was one too many.

“Hey Y/N, I’m very glad to see you looking alive again! I got very worried yesterday! I’m gonna like having you around! Please tell me there’s some mul-naengmyeon left!”

He examined the dishes as if nothing had happened wishfully ignorant to your wide eyes and the way your legs were hammering a whole into the marble floor. The older men were found in varying degrees of amusement at your nervousness, but all of them found it hilarious. It was Jin who, this time, took pity of you and smiling brightly, set a piece of kimchi in your spoonful of rice.

“That’s our Jiminnie for you, very excitable!”

Smiling, Hoseok pushed you up to your feet and reminded you to take that shower you were talking about earlier. He tidied up both your places on the table and, promising to come back quickly so you could leave for the company, he guided your shocked self back to his room. He stopped to check one on the rooms in the hallway, telling someone to get ready fast and to wake the maknae while they were still ahead of schedule, continuing later on his way. Once inside of his room, he produced a nice pair of jeans and a huge orange hoodie from one of the drawers and, putting them in your hands, gently guided you to the bathroom and smiled at you, closing the door behind you.

SOOO, WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK? TOO FAST? TOO SLOW? SHOULD I RETIRE?🥴

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list.

Love 💜🌙

Tag list: @obsessoverthesmallthings247 @threedecadesofawkward @mabel-k3 @tremendousminyoongi @justignoremepleaz @demonic-meatball @hadaises @littlestsweetpea28 @rjsmochii @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @gali-005 @salty-for-suga @indicisive-af @nomimits7 @lysjeon @raisatarannum1234 @purplelady85 @threedecadesofawkward @valentynxmgc @acopenhagenarmy @ephyra1230 @minluvly @trashandshook @brinascorpio @trixiethebear @hobi-love

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vidalinav · 4 years

Text

Queen of Monsters: Chapter 5

Summary: Nesta and Cassian visit the Ironcrest clan and are forced into close quarters ft. an Illyrian wedding

Read also: Chapter List, General Masterlist

Warnings: None for this chapter I think

Updates every Tuesday/Wednesday... mostly Wednesday. I will edit this tomorrow since I can’t look at it any longer.

Nesta scowled as Cassian set her down on the platform, crossing her arms as a permanent fissure took up space between her brows.

“Don’t touch me.” She said, patting the skirts of her gown with one hand as she tried to carry a basket full of exotic fruit with the other. Delicious reds, vibrant greens, and some that smelled of candy. The scent made her gag through the flight.

Cassian rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically as Nesta glared. But he grabbed the handle of the basket before she could take a step forward.

“Stop that,” She grumbled, swatting him away, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he moved to face her, blocking her view of what waited beyond him.

“Nesta, listen.” Cassian said his voice lowering. “I know you’re intent on making everything difficult for all of us, and you have the tendency to run off to Mother knows where, but here, I need you to stay close to me.”

At the words, Nesta wanted to tell him off, imagined kicking him between the knees like that day many moons ago. But Nesta saw the look he gave her, the red of his cheeks blooming to full color.

He was angry—angry enough that he spouted curses without even opening his mouth.

She saw it in his eyes. The hatred burning.

Nesta nodded her head, and Cassian, at her assent, turned to face the Illyrians.

The rigid males were gathered in the town square, the space situated between the residents of the Ironcrest Clan. Unlike Windhaven, most of the small city had been occupied by buildings instead of tents. Some two or three stories in height. Their triangular roofs ran up the mountain like pictographic trees on a map and there was hardly any space between each hut.

Brown. The city was brown and painted with mud-ridden snow. In the back of her head, she thought she heard Elain’s voice, you can always find something beautiful if you look hard enough. Nesta could not see beauty where there was none.

The Illyrians were lined up as Cassian stepped ahead of Nesta. A male, she could only assume was the camp lord, raised a stern hand. He was stout, with a goatee made of wisps of grey. He stared at them harshly, as Cassian’s wings almost seemed to rise to full height.

Nesta wanted to snort at the action. She’d read in a book once that when birds felt threatened, they brushed up their feathers to antagonize, and when they wanted to mate, those feathers would flutter open so that all the colors would be displayed in its full glory.

He was peacocking, Nesta chortled silently.

“The High Lord sends his greetings,” Cassian announced, the words so formal for the puffed-up bat she’d always seen. “He regrets that he can’t make the trip himself.”

“Too busy to do his job?” Another male inquired. A young man by her standards, that drew up short to Cassian’s impressive height. He was lanky, certainly not as big as Cassian’s physique, but he was well-muscled and built strong.

He was handsome, she supposed, plain by fae standards, but… handsome enough.

“He has more important affairs…” Cassian glowered, “like running a court.”

The male sneered at that and Cassian clenched his fists. The two Illyrians bristled, Cassian looking down at the male, the male sizing him up. Nesta thought they might settle it right here, in the middle of all of them watching.

She doubted the Illyrians would mind so much.

But a voice broke out from the silence, and Nesta stood on her toes, her neck reaching to see a male wading through the crowd. The lines parting for him.

“Now. Now. Our High Lord is busy settling the conditions of the state. We were in a war after all.”

To Nesta, the male looked like Father Time. Sleepy and white. His skin pale and grey. His hair seeming to be dipped in winter. For some reason, looking at him made Nesta want to yawn, and she imagined falling asleep to the rhythm of clock hands turning.

Cassian dipped his head at the male who extended a solemn hand, “Lord Ymran.”

“General,” the male bowed, his voice light and eager.

Cassian turned towards Nesta, his hand casually drawing her forward.

The Illyrians did not so much as look at the female who emerged through the crowd, her head buried low in her arms. She was pregnant, Nesta noticed, but she moved quickly. Nesta passed the basket to her as she bowed her head and remained quiet beside them.

“Our High Lord offers a token of appreciation for our stay and in regret of not offering greetings, himself, during Solstice.”

“So, he sends his dog in his stead? Tell me general, what’s it like sitting on his lap and licking up his leftover scraps,” The young Illyrian said, sneering as he eyed Nesta.

Nesta could feel a tremor in her spine at the words. A deep roar like sound echoing in her mind, that surprised even her.

Cassian stepped closer and the camp lord, perhaps remembering where they were last year, remembered what they saw, raised a hand to the young male who would not be consoled.

“Kallon,” the camp lord warned.

Switching his attention to Cassian, he forced a grin. “How long do you intend on staying?”

“Until what we’ve set out for is accomplished,” Cassian answered vaguely.

“I’m afraid we have not made up a residence for you both,” Lord Ymran said, sizing up Nesta curiously.

As if on cue, the rest of the males did too, looking her over and under and somehow in between. She wanted a bath from all the looks that stared hungrily, and maybe some cleansing oil for the sneers. But Nesta did not shy away from their gaze, a fact she saw eat at Lord Ymran, whose brow twitched slightly.

“All of our houses are otherwise occupied.”

Cassian grabbed her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers as Nesta stared at him with subdued shock.

“We’ll find our way.” He said sternly, without looking at her.

The males began to disperse. But Cassian didn’t let go of her hand.

Nesta did not ask questions, preferring to save them until all of them had left. Except Lord Ymran, Kallon, and the camp lord would not leave. They stayed, standing as if Cassian himself had no right to dismiss them, as if they did not follow his orders.

A wall of Illyrians, she wanted to call the image. One segment of a fence. Barricaded by wings and blundering egos. It was Cassian who eventually submitted, pulling Nesta with him until he managed a distance beyond fae ears.

“Fuck,” Cassian yelled, swearing a list of Illyrian expletives she made sure to remember so Emerie could explain them to her later.

Nesta merely rolled her eyes as he punched at a pile of snow.

“You raging buffoon,” She spoke, “Stop pulling me.”

“You walk so slow in those dresses,” Cassian goaded, continuing his hike through the village.

Most of the houses they past seemed empty compared to the hustle and bustle of Windhaven. There were no lights making way for shadowy figures. All of the lights were out. Nesta counted more than one window shut by thick curtains.

It was a ghost town. Quiet and eerie. Existence trapped behind memories and door frames and four wooden walls. It had her grasping for any signs of life.

Where was the fire? Where was the smoke?

“It’s not my fault you have legs as long as tree trunks,” She roared.

“Wouldn’t be an issue if you weren’t so stubborn about flying!”

Flying had quickly become a debate between the two. Though Cassian boasted she would become used to it sooner than later, that he flew gentler and with a greater care than his brothers, Nesta wasn’t at all convinced. She had asked to stop many times during the trip, puking behind bushes and trees. She wasn’t so keen on trying it again.

“You said it was only a block away!” Nesta yelled.

“So!” Cassian replied indignantly, his voice getting higher as he got more upset. That was hardly her fault! Nesta thought, pulling her hand away from his grasp.

“So, a block away is walking distance,” She scoffed. “You’re just pissy that you lost.”

At his inquiring look, Nesta continued. “That little standoff you all had…”

He knew what she was talking about, of course. Nesta could see it in the way his nose scrunched up and his jaw clenched tightly.

“There was nothing to win,” Cassian dismissed, whipping forward as his wings almost hit her.

Nesta barely missed smacking them away.

“There is always something to win.”

But Cassian ignored her, stepping up to a building that was larger than the rest.

Like many of the other houses she noticed, a purple plant hung from the door, nailed to the wood in some omen that Nesta could only describe as aggravating. You don’t know what we are, the plant seemed to say. Even after all this time reading, you still know nothing.

She had a vague inclination to ask Cassian, even if it was beyond her better judgement, but he was already racing inside.

Nesta shook her head, muttering the words childish and fool.

She found him at the counter. An Illyrian flipping through a large book as Cassian spoke.

“I’m afraid most of our rooms are filled,” Nesta heard her say, though no regret filled her voice. “There’s a wedding this evening.”

The female gestured to the rich fabrics covering the walls and Nesta’s gaze trailed over the deep pinks and dark purples, the patterned oranges twisting their way up the fireplace, the door frames, and all of the tables filling up the warm space.

“I assume you and your wife will only need one room.”

“We’re not—” Nesta was quick to protest, whipping towards the desk.

“Yes. One room will be fine,” Cassian answered, pulling out a bag of coins that jostled on the countertop. The Innkeeper eyed it hungrily and Nesta wanted to snatch it away, demanding that the female recognize them as sworn enemies and not matrimonially tied.

In a series of what felt to be a cosmic joke, one room was not the worst outcome she’d find as they opened the door to their room.

Inside, covered with an abundance of furs, was a bed.

One bed.

Cassian snorted at her look, his lips raising to one side as he held in a laugh.

Nesta ignored him, walking past and dropping her bag on the floor. She kicked it under the bed lest Cassian trip and go sprawling on top of her in the tiny room.

Cassian plopped on the mattress and Nesta grimaced at his shoes laying on the soft throws. He tucked his hands beneath his head and lounged. Grinning teasingly as he looked her over.

“I am not sleeping with you,” She warned.

Cassian laughed, “As if you’d get that honor.”

“You think too highly of yourself.”

“And you don’t?” He taunted.

Nesta ignored him, changing the subject in an effort to secure a victory.

“Who was that Illyrian? Lord Ymran.”

Cassian sat up suddenly serious and Nesta smirked inwardly at the win. “An old lord.”

“And his son?”

“Lord Ovis and the younger one is his son Kallon. But he’s not a lord,” Cassian grumbled. “Not yet.”

Nesta grabbed a sweater from her bag, folding it and setting it in one of the drawers.

“Lord Ymran seems... respectable enough.”

“He’s not.” Cassian remarked, not elaborating further.

Nesta wondered what he meant, but Cassian kicked off his boots closing his eyes as he leaned back into one of the many pillows.

“You’re sleeping on the floor.” Nesta asserted haughtily.

Cassian had left before her, but not without some convincing. She’d told him she’d wanted to change. He so helpfully remarked that he wasn’t stopping her. After two glares and three smart retorts, Cassian had left for the training fields. Nesta hadn’t asked where those were.

She took the note Ira left her from her notebook, reading each letter in her perfect script. The name of each plant blooming behind her eyes. She knew three of them in Illyrian. Elleborum for the hellebore flower, iglika for primrose, and podsen for the snowdrop’s droopy petals.

Ira had mentioned a shop. Hard to find at first, but easy enough for someone as stubborn as Nesta. She’d asked the innkeeper if she’d known this shop, but the female had raised a nose and rudely said that if there was such a place Nesta certainly had no business going to it.

Her help had left Nesta with little option, but to walk around, scouring the village herself.

Two hours later she’d yet to find the shop, but oh did she find the training fields.

Sweat dripped down Cassian’s back, and Nesta tried not to crumble the paper in her hands as she took in his shirtless form. His tattoos crawled down his back like a finger running down his spine and Nesta swallowed lightly. Some voice in her head chastising him for being shirtless in the middle of winter.

She watched as he tumbled with another male in the ring, the Illyrian raising his fist as Cassian punched from below, kicking him so far the male rammed into a set of wooden planks set out for seating. Another male entered the ring and though he lunged at Cassian, he was quick to deflect. The end of his palm going straight to the male’s nose.

Nesta blinked at the aggression, trying not to wince at the splattered blood. Cassian must have sensed her there because he looked back and grinned defiantly. His canines bright and dangerous.

At his stare, Nesta yawned, tapping her mouth as if she’d seem much more impressive things.

His eyes burned at that, and Nesta smirked playfully, dipping her head in mocking salutations as another male came running from behind, kicking out his legs as Cassian fell and they carried on with their ruckus in the rings.

She continued on her way, kicking up her boots as she counted all the buildings.

There were fifteen before the mountain had skewed upwards, twelve on the upper level. Seven as the height grew higher, and none of the businesses had the letters she could draw in her sleep, that Nesta had come to associate with infirmary, plants, herbs or even the word shop.

She gave up after house thirty-five, her shoulders slumping through the inn’s doorway. Her stomach rumbled at the smell of baked bread, and it was only then Nesta realized she’d missed dinner.

Nesta blinked at the changed scene before her, twisting her head to peer behind her as if she’d entered the wrong building.

The place had only been half decorated when Nesta left, but now… Silk woven tapestries covered the walls and bundles of fabric fell in every corner, so much that Nesta felt entrapped by the purple and orange glow. She was in the middle of a pillow fort, she felt, rather than an inn turned wedding hall.

Nesta followed the colors down a narrow hall until she met an open doorway that emptied into light.

Candles glittered through the aisle and though Nesta wanted to snide at the impracticality of blushing brides burning before they said, “I do,” the romantic part of her brain took notes.

Illyrians were already gathered in their seats, talking low, their voices thrumming with joyous song.

Nesta crouched low as the music sounded and made her way to an empty seat in the back. Inconspicuous enough that no one would see her as they celebrated the couple she had yet to see. Or so Nesta thought, because the minute she sat, arching her neck to get a better view, a finger poked at her side.

Nesta yelped as Cassian shushed her.

“It’s about to start,” he whispered gruffly.

He maneuvered to sit, but his wings brushed against her hair, a talon snagging on her braids. Nesta gave him a murderous look as she patted her hair down, Cassian failing to hide his snicker.

“Shh,” Nesta answered in reply.

The groom entered from the side, walking to the podium as he made greetings to the people at front. The fabric of his wings were etched in gold paint, a collection of tiny points and whirls like Cassian’s tattoos. Nesta grasped it all, the male smiling as an older female came to bring him a wreath of magnolias.

Nesta was afraid to take a breath as the subtle strings of a mandolin started, the soft thrum of drums. The sounds of heartbeats, she thought, and something more fervent—like a budding flower being dipped in sweet honey until the dew tasted of desire. Of dreams.

The groom loved his bride, Nesta could tell by his look, had perhaps dreamt of her long before the admission had been uttered from his lips.

They did not have to wait long for Nesta to see that the bride too loved the groom. A hush fell over the room as the doors opened, the procession standing at her image.

The bride’s brown skin glowed with gold; her wings as covered as the grooms. With those markings that whispered dreams in their ears. And the groom looked happy, truly happy to see the female glide forward. Her smile bright enough to light the room.

Cassian didn’t utter a word beside her, and Nesta looked at him, suddenly concerned that he had stayed quiet for so long.

He only stared at her softly, his chin resting in his palm.

“The wedding is that way.” She grumbled, watching as a ribbon was twisted around the couple’s joined hands.

What did it all mean? Nesta wanted to know. But Cassian leaned closer, and Nesta blinked as his body neared hers, their heads so close she refused to swallow in fear that he could hear it like resounding bells.

“Red for honor…” Cassian recited; his words sweet to her ears. “Tied around the wrist for fidelity, knotted for bonds that will never be broken.”

Nesta watched as the bride grasped the chalice the priestess held towards her. Her arms, woven in bright red, reached out and she held the chalice up to the groom's lips.

“A sip of wine for abundance, drunk from the same cup for unity. May love be overflowing.”

“My blood is your blood,” She heard the couple repeat. “My glory is your glory.”

Cassian dipped his head, his lips so close to her ear Nesta wanted to shy away, but she held herself still, holding her breath as she willed her heart to stop beating so fast.

“The tie will not be severed,” He repeated as did the couple, “for they are made of strengthened bonds. Love has won all battles.”

The priestess did not untie the knot, but rather let their wrists slip through the loops, so that when they were free the bride and the groom came together in a kiss.

Nesta’s heart swelled for them both.

“After this, they’ll burn the ribbon,” Cassian explained in hushed tones. Indeed, the priestess handed the couple a lit candle, the flame waving to and fro as it was jostled around.

“What happens next?” Nesta asked as if in a trance.

A wicked gleam settled in his gaze and Nesta immediately regretted her words.

“There’ll be a reception. Song and dance, and then they’ll fly off to some location in the mountains. Undisturbed, of course. The best part of the whole thing, I imagine.”

Nesta snorted, “How romantic.”

“How about you Nesta?” He teased, “Do you wish to be swept off your feet—fly to some unknown cabin where you’ll ravaged for hours.”

Nesta gave him a sidelong glance, as he leaned back in his chair, cool in his plain shirt and his loose pants sitting low.

Where did the advantage lie?

“I think that if there were truly someone who could ravage me for hours, I might skip the wedding entirely.”

Cassian huffed a laugh. “I don’t know. You strike me as the type to want the whole ceremony. Don’t tell me you’ve never planned your wedding when you were young.”

“Why? Did you?” She inquired, pursing her lips. “Now, were you the one in the dress? Or did you just like imagining someone who’d want you for more than a few hours?”

Cassian paused at the words and so did Nesta. The soft strum of the mandolin melting away and leaving only hollow echoes in its stead. She swallowed the regret away as his gaze turned to frigid ice.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Nesta cut him off with a flare of her hand.

“Don’t bother.” She stood abruptly, the creak of the chair loud enough that Illyrians glared her way. She scowled back, looking to Cassian as her body towered over him. “I’m going to bed.”

Nesta brushed away the magnolia petals falling as the crowd began to throw them at the blissful pair. She cut them off at the door.

At least they had each other, Nesta remedied, swatting the guilt away.

Who did she have?

It was uncommonly warm in the small room, with the heat from the kitchens wafting up. There was no need for the chimney, so Cassian had not started a fire. A fact she was both grateful for and perturbed by because the darkness seemed to make her rattle in her skin. People laughed through the walls, through the floors, and Nesta felt their voices vibrate in her bones. She could hear the sharp edge of glasses breaking, the cheers and music drifting through the wood and furs and Nesta tried not to make the bed creak as she turned, clutching the blankets to her chest.

She peered at Cassian, lying on the floor even after all of his complaints, but he turned towards her suddenly and Nesta squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to be covered by sleep’s endless throws…

When she opened them again, Cassian was staring at the ceiling, his eyes bright even in the dark. His wings tucked between the bed and the wall, one of his talons angling oddly. Nesta couldn’t imagine it was comfortable and some brave part of her, the part that had become unhindered in the darkness, wanted to tell him he could share her bed.

She quickly clutched the quilt to her mouth.

Even in all the noise, she could hear him breathing, hear the sweet rhythm of his heart beat on and on. One thump after the next. Nesta wondered if he could hear hers too or if like Feyre had once said, he’d learned to tune hers out.

The thought made her sink into the mattress, her knees coming to her chest.

“They don’t like us here.” Cassian spoke, his voice as soft as sheets.

She caught his gaze in the moment, Cassian shifting until they lied facing each other. Nesta pretended his words were the beginning of a bedtime story, but Cassian didn’t paint worlds with his tongue. He just looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

Perhaps, she should have said something, voiced that he was wrong or agreed that he was right.

But Nesta suddenly exhausted and heavy burdened, only turned away. She closed her eyes as she settled, tucking a hand beneath her pillow.

What could she have said anyways, she asked herself.

Why would she, Nesta probed.

But the answer had already clanged in her chest, the space hollow and unfilled. Her soul left desolate and bare.

Empty.

She would not comfort him, she thought. There was no comfort for the unwanted. The unloved. They only had each other here in this dark room, and Nesta would not make him feel better when he was all she had.

And so Nesta let sleep claim her, tucking wishes into bottles, grasping stars for a tomorrow that would never come.

Cassian deserved to feel the bitterness seep into his skin.

For it had surely seeped in hers.

Tagged: @my-fan-side @ekaterinakostrova @anastasia-orlov @lord-douglas-the-third @autumnsletters @soitsgorgeous @sjm-things @courtofjurdan @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives

Sorry for the late update! I got sick, but I’m mostly better now! Also oof this chapter needs a lot of work. I’m going to have to edit these last few chapters soon.

I was feeling this chapter when I first wrote it and today my brain was like nope not today. So I’m a little bit disappointed with it. But I’ll fix it eventually. At least it’s own in the world.

Also, You’ll notice a lot of times, I have many Illyrian women being in the center of these stories. Mostly, that’s because starting off it’s Nesta’s POV and of course she’d see mostly women. But it’s also because I want to imagine Illyrian culture. And culture and society are built on the backs of women. Food, celebrations, stories, teaching, language by that extent, cultural practices. Especially in a society where men would have a specific role to be the warriors, merchants, weapon masters, business owners, the people who are sustaining every day life would be women as mundane and trapping as that might seem to maybe Cassian or Rhys or Azriel.

Not to say that women are not disadvantaged as SJM has described, just that the way these men may see disenfranchisement, may in itself be another sort of cage. So I hope to eventually distinguish that between their two POVs. This very biased “feminist” view from Cassian who says that females need to learn to fight to gain this elusive equality and subsequent protection for themselves. And Nesta’s POV who has seen the world with a very traditional mindset of marriage, virginity, ballgowns, and poise, who has learned and experienced that those things create barriers for women. Who herself feels trapped in her body as a fae, but even before is trapped in a society she doesn’t fit in, who then learns her world is a lie and everyone in it a liar. So, personally, I would think that Nesta could see what Cassian can’t, that women are not just “doing chores.” There is some importance in child rearing, in feeding the village, in domesticity, even if they still do need to expand the rights of women. This is not a weakness, but rather one facet of power.

This is also why I tend not to have Nesta completely dismissed by all these females either. because I feel it would be easier to infiltrate the ranks of women as a women rather than say Cassian offering his money or power or sympathy. Especially when Nesta’s character is someone who can relate so well.

Anyways, I don’t know if that makes sense or if it’s is coming across well, and I don’t know if I should continue analyzing my own fic, but I guess let me know if that’s something y’all are interested in me continuing throughout the chapters.

Like, reblog, comment... and Happy Reading! :D

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian x nesta #acosf #acofas #acotar #nessian fanfiction

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