#not sure when it became summer on your end but my side of the world is getting a little chilly

[writingsbychlo]

BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction. 

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat. 

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations. 

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.” 

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there. 

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?” 

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official. 

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment. 

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games. 

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time. 

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either. 

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics. 

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side. 

“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised. 

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you. 

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over. 

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you. 

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room. 

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests. 

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. 

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one. 

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it. 

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.” 

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately. 

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had. 

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of. 

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white. 

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness. 

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her. 

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you. 

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you. 

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return. 

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye. 

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go. 

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath. 

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you. 

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass. 

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course. 

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate. 

Men did love a little attention, after all. 

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down. 

“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar. 

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere. 

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed. 

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair. 

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch. 

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone. 

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through. 

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat. 

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low. 

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover. 

Until, Theo spoke up. 

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?”

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you. 

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth. 

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from. 

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair. 

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend. 

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after. 

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know. 

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one. 

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk. 

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return. 

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing. 

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night. 

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. 

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered. 

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you. 

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment. 

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.” 

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them. 

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…” 

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away. 

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. 

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents. 

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment. 

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.” 

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps. 

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye. 

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. 

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you. 

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features. 

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all. 

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news. 

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more. 

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted. 

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats. 

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left. 

“Where are we going, Dray?” 

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice. 

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food. 

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face. 

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile. 

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow. 

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!” 

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side. 

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.” 

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.” 

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.” 

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

[gojoidyll]

TO YOU, FROM US

i. if i had to pick a color

when gojo meets you for the first time, his world literally stops turning. his heart is beating fast, his cheeks are turning a bright, hot red, and his hands, oh god, his hands are so fucking sweaty. is he actually nervous?!

Jujutsu Tech was supposed to be his beginning. It was supposed to be where he truly began living his own life away from the prying eyes of the clan elders and the prim and proper maids that seemed to follow him everywhere within his clan’s estate. It was all so exhausting. And when it became clear that he would be joining the jujutsu world, he truly thought that it would be his time to finally be able to breathe again.

And yet, it just felt all the more suffocating. The moment that he became a first year, the higher ups of the jujutsu world just seemed to piss him off way more than his clan elders did. They were way more demanding than what his home life was like, but then again…as someone with both the six eyes and limitless…wasn’t it only natural to be treated as such?

So, in the end, his first year of Jujutsu Tech didn’t seem all that freeing in the end. Not until August rolled around. The summer heat clung to him tightly despite the light breeze that came into the open windowed classroom, and Gojo would find himself leaning far into his chair, his head falling back as his eyes closed shut. It was so damn hot… Suguru nor Shoko were here yet, and Gojo was left in his own little world and unable to complain to either of them, well, until the classroom door creaked open.

Quickly snapping his head up, he was prepared to whine to either Suguru or Shoko (whoever came through the door first) about the summer heat, but his words would soon get caught up in his throat when you walked in. Your hair was neatly styled, your hands were clasped in front of you almost in a nervous manner, and your head was slightly tilted downward. Your presence seemed almost nonexistent to him.

Gojo didn’t believe in love at first sight. But he couldn’t deny the way his heart rate gradually picked up or the way his neck started to feel hot as he looked at you. No, it was because of the summer heat! He was sure of it. Opening his mouth to say something, you ended up beating him to it.

“Hello,” despite the singular word, Gojo already saw it as you being way too formal, “I will be joining you as a first year student…,” trailing off a bit you had quietly given your name before bowing slightly and walking towards one of the farthest seats in the class which was when Gojo had finally taken notice how there was, in fact, one extra seat then there usually was.

Looking over at you, Gojo noticed how you kept your gaze pointed down at your desk, your eyes not once looking up or giving him even the tiniest of side glances. Gojo, as the loudest extrovert as he always was, decided to introduce himself too. So he stood up from his desk, his hand gripping the back of his chair as he went to push it in which was when he noticed it.

His hands were shaking.

What the hell?

Letting go of the back of the chair, he lifted his hand to inspect it. But he quickly dropped it as he went down one seat and towards you.

“Gojo Satoru,” he said his name with an unparalleled confidence as he sat down right next to you, the chair being pulled forward and turned so he was sitting and facing directly at you, “you know, you’re coming pretty late in the year. We’ve already been in school for a couple of months.”

As he talked, his focus kept drifting back to the state of his hands. They were unbearably sweaty, wait, oh god, his hands were so fucking sweaty. Was he actually nervous? No, it had to be because of the heat. It had to be. But he couldn’t deny the way his throat felt constricted, how his face felt hot, and the way that his neck kept getting this nervous itch in the back.

“I was still training my cursed technique…”

Your voice was so quiet. Gojo wondered if that was how you normally talked or if that was how you were told to talk. He knew what the jujutsu world was like and he also knew how some clans acted towards women and young girls.

“Still training, huh? What? Didn’t have good control or something?”

“That’s enough Satoru, stop interrogating the poor girl.”

His poking and prodding was interrupted when Suguru walked in, Shoko soon following after, and Gojo could only raise his hands in defense in a mock surrender, “I was just trying to get to know her,” he said as he pulled his chair forward. His body was finally not facing you causing you to release a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding.

“That’s because you don’t realize how intimidating you can be sometimes.”

“Me? Intimidating? Please.”

As all the focus on you shifted away, you could finally relax in your seat. When you had initially came to the classroom, you hesitated walking in when you noticed only one student waiting there. You weren’t good at talking nor were you good at introducing yourself. When you had gotten up that morning, you kept telling yourself to arrive late so Mr. Yaga could just introduce you to the group, but due to your fear of being late and of confrontation you found yourself arriving early anyway.

Much to your despair, it was THE Gojo Satoru who was already waiting there. In your head, you had many conversation topics swirling around in there in hopes to lift any awkwardness that may surface, but, in the end, you couldn’t even get yourself to say good morning much less how hot and unbearable the August heat was.

And because of your inability to talk to another person, Gojo was the one to initiate conversation with you. Truth be told, you were surprised you were even able to answer one of his questions in the first place. Much less be able to talk to him at all. He was Gojo Satoru after all. You were always told that he was the pinnacle of the jujutsu world. And if he wanted to, he could kill you with no effort at all.

“Quiet.”

To your relief, Yaga had walked into the classroom. Looking at the four of you, he nodded to you first.

“As of today, if it wasn’t already obvious, l/n here will be joining you all and will be completing missions just like the rest of you. I expect you all to get along.”

Gojo raised his hand, “why did she come so late in the year,” and didn’t even wait to be called on.

“Her cursed technique needed some refining. One wrong move, and she could be killing innocent people by accident,” and Yaga answered him anyway.

“Isn’t-“

Before Gojo could continue with his curiosity, Yaga had cut him off, “you’ll just have to find out yourself how dangerous her technique could be, but for now, two missions have come out for you four. Geto and Ieiri will go on one. Gojo and l/n will go on the other.”

You deflated at the news, slightly bummed out that you couldn’t go with the other girl in your class while Gojo caught himself frowning slightly. His brain is already working on overdrive.

His neck felt incredibly hot, his heartrate kept picking up and seemed to thump even louder in his chest, and his hands kept getting that nervous sweaty feeling.

He blamed it on the heat because Gojo doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Though, for Gojo, he took that first real breath that he always seemed to be holding in. He paid no mind to it.

Though, finally being able to breathe, to have that nervous feeling that he has seen in the movies and TV dramas, to see you and think "I want to get to know her," well, if he had to pick a color to describe himself or maybe even to describe you. It would be pink.

taglist

@hueanhdang @byul9158 @promiseofeywa @nuo0n @bubera974 @thankunext312 @simeon-lovergirl @amiorca @aish777 @kurtcobaingirlie @withthistreaserisummon @pelicanpizza @xhxzgn @syneyam @betzy-chan @bontensh0e @sugarplumz100 @ryungsblog @unknownperson6006 @yuhig-blog @creolequeen11210 @junono @waterfal-ling @solarsistem @02225v @yourdadsleftnutsack @luvuyuuji @platimoonie @samlovespjo

there are a few i wasn't able to tag due to "no blogs found" popping up and i do apologize for that. though, i believe that it can be fixed in your settings <3

but dw! you are still in the taglist, so once your settings are changed, you should still be tagged ^-^

also, want to be a part of the taglist? just comment <33

table of contents | next

[lalunalando]

Ruins - CS55

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warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, fluff, teasing, car sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)

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Mallorca was a place that unless you had been there to see it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t believe such a place could be real.

Yet here you were, laughing along with your boyfriends family, glass of wine in one hand and his hand in the other, enjoying the beautiful weather at his family’s holiday home on the beautiful island.

Looking beside you, you couldn’t help the genuine smile planted peacefully on your face as Carlos joked around with his cousins, looking carefree amongst the people who made him the happiest in this world, which for the past few years has included you.

“So how are you enjoying mallorca so far?” His mother asks from across the table, bringing your attention back to the conversation amongst the women.

“I have never seen a place more beautiful, it’s like you take a breath in and you’re instantly at peace” you respond with a smile, feeling Carlos squeeze your hand to remind you he’s still there.

“We’re so glad you were able to make it this time, Carlos was so insufferable last holidays, always sulking about how much he misses you” his younger sibling Ana teases from the end of the table, earning a grape thrown at her by the embarrassed man to your right.

“I wasn't sulking!” he argues back with a pout.

“cabron, you spent more time pouting at her social medias than actually having a conversation with us” his best friend Roberto shot back from his other side, earning him a sharp elbow to the side.

“aww, obsessed much? i might have to tell my boyfriend i have a stalker” you jokingly teased, making his family burst out laughing around the table.

The Sainz family had been nothing but warm and welcoming since the first time you had met them, instantly accepting you into the family and making you comfortable.

Not having such a close relationship with your own family, this had meant the world to you that without a second thought they had welcomed you into theirs with open arms, Ana and Blanca instantly swapping secrets and clothes with you, Reyes showing you how to cook Carlos’ favorite meals for every mood, Carlos Sr teaching you everything motorsports related he could (excited when he learnt you were already a fan of it before and eager to learn the ins and outs of the industry), Caco making sure you were always safe on race weekends and taken as care of as Carlos was by the team, and even Teto who became a like an older brother figure to you (bullying included.)

You felt safe, you felt home, and you could never love anyone more than the man beside you.

The only downside you had found to this beautiful family trip, was the lack of alone time you and Carlos had been granted.

It had been a bit of a rough season so far, with his contract with Ferrari being announced to be ending at the end of the season, meaning while he was having an extremely impressive year on track, he spent every other moment off track in talks with other teams for a contract for the next season.

Luckily, he was in high demand so there was no issue with obtaining one, it was just about choosing who would be the best fit for him, and it had to be decided by the end of this summer holiday.

All you wanted was a little alone time, starting to grow needy by the day and constantly reminded by the teasing touches your boyfriend would leave you with, like right now as he ran his fingers along your thigh under the table.

It was frustrating, any time something was about to happen between the two of you, someone would pop up.

Like this morning, a heavy make out session brought on by his morning wood poking into your back when you woke up? Interrupted by his mother knocking on the bedroom door letting you know breakfast would be ready in 5 minutes.

Last night in the pool, thinking everyone else had well and truly gone to bed? Roberto cannonballing into the pool after noticing you two were still up to annoy.

You loved them all, and you couldn’t be more grateful, but you were getting needy and desperate for your boyfriend.

”Caro, are you feeling okay? you zoned out on us…” Reyes asks with concern, nodding for Ana beside you to top up your water for you.

“Oh i’m so sorry, must have just had a little too much wine before properly eating, i’m okay!” you assure her, gulping as Carlos’ hand trails further up your thigh.

She just nods with a smile before resuming conversation around the table

“Carlos behave, we are at lunch with your family.” you hiss quietly at him, leaning over to him so no one else could hear the conversation you two were having.

“but conejita, i can’t stop thinking about this morning, you looked so pretty all flushed just from a few kisses, so desperate for me” he responded, his breath tickling your neck and making you almost choke on the sip of wine you were taking.

“Please excuse me, i just need to go make a quick call home before it gets too late over there” you quickly stood up and made an excuse to step away for a second, unable to endure Carlos right now.

Stepping into the kitchen once inside, you braced yourself against the marble countertop and focused on calming yourself down again.

You could feel your skin burning from his touch and the wetness pooling in your panties from all the teasing he was doing, torturing you endlessly.

So focused on trying to regain your composure, you hadn't noticed Carlos come in behind you until he was winding his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest, making sure you felt just how much he was also suffering with his jeans feeling especially tight against his crotch right now.

“Amor, are you okay? you look a little flushed” he smirks as he kisses down your neck.

“are you okay” you respond in a mocking tone, “of course i’m not okay Carlos, you can’t keep your hands to yourself and we haven’t had a moment alone in a week now!”

“aww, is my pretty baby getting needy?” he teases in response, hands starting to wander down to the hem of the short sundress you had opted to wear today.

You turned around quickly, placing your hands on his chest and pushing him away lightly to stop his torment.

“don’t act like it’s just me struggling, your zip looks like it might burst any minute now, might want to go take care of that mi amor” Placing a light kiss on his lips before returning to the group outside before he could react.

“So do you guys have anything planned for the rest of the evening?” Blanca asks as you settle back into the group, Carlos following right behind you.

“I was thinking about taking her down to the ruins for the sunset and a beach walk” Carlos responds quickly, grabbing your hand on top of the table as you tilt your head in confusion at him.

“Oh that sounds wonderful hijo, i’m sure she’s going to love that!” Reyes smiles at you both

“the ruins? there’s ruins here?” you ask excitedly, being a known nerd for that sort of thing.

“si, Necropolis de Son Real, it´s an old cemetery from the roman era and before” he smiles as he squeezes your hand, seeing your eyes light up in excitement.

Suddenly you hear an exaggerated sigh from beside carlos, before Teto speaks up

“So you're both abandoning me for the evening to look at nerd shit? Why do you hate me?” sending the table into a fit of laughter as he fake cried.

An hour later, you and Carlos were loading into his Ferrari to head down to the coastal ruins.

A 30 minute drive, but it was uninterrupted time together that you were looking forward to just spending in the presence of your boyfriend.

The smooth Ferrari 812 Competizione roaring to life under you, Carlos gives you a sweet smile as you set off, letting you have control of the radio as per your usual passenger princess duties.

Carlos couldn’t help but look at you lovingly while you sang along to “i like the way you kiss me” by Artemas, dancing in the little ways you could while remaining seated.

“i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me

i can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits

not tryna be romantic, i’ll hit it from the back

just so you don’t get attached”

“mi amor, hitting it from the back is what got me attached, have you seen your ass?” he smirks as you swat his arm.

“i should have known you were just with me for my ass” you sigh.

“of course not conejita” he says as he squeezes your thigh before laughing, “you have a nice set of tits too”

Reaching the Santa Margalida coast, you were stunned by the beautiful coastline that awaited you. Getting to the ruins was going to be a bit of a walk but you were too excited to care.

Carlos watched in awe as you skipped up the trail, hair flowing behind you as a breeze moved your dress around your legs, he couldn’t believe he had been so lucky to find someone so beautiful and supportive, someone his family adored, someone he couldn’t wait to spend forever with.

“Carlitos look! look at the cool tomb remains” you exclaim as you finally reach the site

“thankyou so much for bringing me here, i love it so much, this is the coolest thing ever!”

”Mi cariño, i would do anything to make you as happy as you make me by just existing” he responds as he wraps you in his arms and places a kiss to your hair

You spent the next hour exploring around and taking pictures of the site, as Carlos secretly took pictures of you in your element.

Once you had explored it all, he held his hand out for you to take as you started the long trek back to the car.

“so, what has been your favorite thing about this trip so far?” he asks genuinely as you walk down the coastal beach.

“hmmm i’d love to say it was definitely the ruins, but my real favorite thing has been spending time with you and your family. Seeing how happy and carefree you are, i couldn’t love it more” you smile back.

“even though we’ve had no time alone until now?” he says as he pulls you in to wrap his arm around your shoulder.

“don’t get me wrong, i can’t wait to have you to myself in our apartment again” you laugh in response.

As you’re about 10 minutes away from the car, a summer shower starts as the sun goes down, making you and Carlos laugh as you run the rest of the way back to the car hand in hand, clothes sticking to you both the wetter they got.

Jumping back into the car, you couldn’t stop laughing about the unexpected turn of events as Carlos just admired the carefree attitude you showed towards it.

His exes before you would have cursed him out, probably blamed him for the weather shift or at the very least for not warning them (like he knew it was going to happen).

It would have led to fights that lasted days, him eventuality having to be the one to apologize even though he had done nothing wrong.

But you? you were sat in the passenger seat, laughing as you tried to unstick your dress from your skin, not phased at all that it had happened.

Without a second thought, Carlos reached over and grabbed your face, smashing his lips to yours like he needed the air in your lungs to breathe.

As you both pulled away for air, you gave him a confused look.

“not that i'm complaining, but what was that for? are you okay” you ask.

“i couldn’t be happier, just looking at you makes me realize how lucky i am to have you, i really do love you” he answers sincerely.

You smile and bring him into another kiss, enjoying this peaceful moment shared by just the two of you.

The sun having now set, no one around, just you and your lover.

The peace doesn’t last long though, as Carlos is getting hungrier for you as the kisses deepen.

Before long, he’s moving his seat back as far as it will go and pulling you over the center and onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs as one of his hands grips your waist and the other is tangled in your hair, holding you against him.

You can’t help but whimper as you grind down on his hard cock, the tight material of his jeans not making it easy for him and you could feel it all in the lace panties you wore that barely covered anything as is.

“the sounds coming out of you right now conejita are enough to make me cum at this point if you’re not careful, you’ve left me suffering too many times this week” Carlos groans into your ear before kissing down your neck.

“it hasn’t been any easier for me you know, i can’t do the same things you can when i’ve been in the shower” you tease back, grinding down harder onto him as he hisses.

“you’ve been greedy mi amor? touching yourself without me in the shower?” he growls, almost animalistic.

“don’t act like you haven’t done the same” you smirk back.

Carlos' hand that was tangled in your hair slowly trails down your figure, running lightly over your collarbones and nipples, before settling on your thigh.

He rubs his thumb on your inner thigh, slowly lifting the hem of your dress up your thighs until he can get a peak of your panties.

Seeing the barely-there black lace, he throws his head back and groans at the sight, feeling his dick twitch in his jeans.

“Were you trying to kill me today? what is this?” he asks as he brushes his thumb over your clit through the lace, making you whimper in response as he feels just how wet they are.

“Joder, eres tan guapa” he groans as he leans back a little to look, moving the lace to the side as he runs his thumb over the sensitive bud again.

“Carlos please, i-“

“i know pretty girl, i’ll give you what you need in a second, just let me admire” he drools, slipping his fingers through your folds at a teasing pace.

Without warning, he slips two fingers in to stretch you out for what's to come, making you almost scream in pleasure at the feeling.

“what a good girl, taking two so well for me, think you can ride my fingers pretty girl?” he whispers in your ear, biting and sucking at the skin of your neck, openly leaving marks his family will undoubtedly ask about later.

As you rock back and forth on his lap, his fingers curling inside you to hit the right spots as his thumb continues work on your clit, your nails are digging into his shoulders as you try to focus on keeping your pace.

With all the pent up tension from the past week, it doesn’t take long for you to feel your first orgasm approaching.

Carlos feels it too, knowing the all too familiar clench of your walls around his fingers, he’s desperate to bring you over the edge, using the hand on your hip to increase your pace as his fingers work you harder from the inside.

Your hand flies to the now fogged up window, leaving a hand mark on it as you scream his name and cum around his fingers, your hips stuttering in movement as you become overly sensitive.

He draws his fingers out once he knows you're done, looking you dead in the eye as he places them in his mouth and sucks them clean, making your pussy clench at the sight.

You decide to tease him back as he pulls them out, grabbing his hand and putting his fingers in your own mouth before sucking and twirling your tongue around them, making him growl.

He wastes no time in lifting you just enough to free himself from his jeans and boxers, before lining himself up with your entrance.

“do you think you have another one in you, mi tesoro?” he asks, slapping his tip against your clit and making you whimper as you nod, unable to speak actual words right now.

“good girl, that’s my pretty angel” he praises as he lowers you onto his cock, stretching you out even more at his size.

It didn’t matter how many times you’d done this, you’d never be used to his size.

It made sense that he was as big and thick as he was, the man himself being broad and muscular, but you could never truly expect JUST how big he was down there.

The first time you’d slept together, you’d been sure he was going to break you in half.

His hand had not been anywhere near enough over the last week, once he had had a taste of you he could never go back to anything or anyone else, the only way Carlos could describe how you felt around him is “made by god specifically for him” and he made sure it was known.

“fuck amorcita, you take me so well” he groans, his grip on your hip bruising as he settles you into a pace that drives you both absolutely wild.

“Carlos i’m not going to last” you moan, already starting to see the little white dots in your vision again.

“that’s okay princesa, either am i after the week without feeling you, but when we get back to madrid you better be prepared for an entire day of being used” he growls as he fucks up into you, making you yelp at the further sensation.

A few minutes later and you couldn’t hold on any longer, begging for him to let you finish.

“Carlos please, please, i can't hold on any longer can i please cum” you beg, tears lining your eyes as you crumble.

“let go amorcita, cum with me” he groans as he bruises your cervix from the final few thrusts he fucks up into you, feeling you squeezing his cock like a vice.

With his words, you’re screaming out his name over and over, leaving more handprints on the glass as his hand joins yours and squeezes, rain still falling around the car as it’s cloaked in complete darkness now the sun has fully set.

Carlos feels you let go and does the same, filling you completely to the point you can feel it coming out as he slowly thrusts a few more times, getting you both through your highs.

Finally lifting your head off his shoulder from where you rested while regaining your breath and balance, you give him a few light kisses before trying to slide off of his dick without making too much of a mess, unsuccessfully.

He quickly places your panties back into place over your pussy, making sure to give it a light tap for good measure as he chuckles.

All you can do is roll your eyes as you readjust your dress again, before climbing back over to your seat and getting comfortable for the long drive back.

“Well that will tide me over for about… 5 hours i think?” Carlos jokes as he starts the car up and pulls out of the parking lot.

“Try 7 days my love, we still have another week here” you remind him sweetly, a hint of teasing in your voice.

“Nope, i don’t care if my family hears anymore, i’m not going that long without you again” he states, kissing your hand before an evil smile places itself over his face.

“Besides, once Teto gets sight of the bruises i’ve left on your skin, there’s no way we’re hiding what happened today anyway.”

[luvyeni]

THE DEMON IN MY MIRROR • PARK JONGSONG

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ demon!jay x fem!reader wc. 4.7k+

𓄷 warnings... jay is half human. mentions of a curse. jay is guiding her in her head. exhibition kink? mutual masturbation. oral ( m. reciveing ). unprotected sex.

nia's notes: jay is done ,, the series is almost over 😔,, the last chapter is next 🖤!!!

sunghoon | lucifer masterlist | ending

With a loss of light I fall , like a Lucifer…

Your little warmth , a ray of light that brightens my world…

Just like that two months had flown by; every single day had been a whirlwind of craziness— you and jake spending even more time together; having him help you clear out more stuff in the house, even helping bring in some of the new furniture your parents had delivered— which also led to six hours of you both straight arguing about the usage of instructions, eventually going to sunghoon , who even though was annoyed that you would bother him with something so trivial did it anyway.

speaking of sunghoon; things did get better between the two of you; he slowly but surely came to the conclusion that you in fact weren't like your grandmother and weren't gonna force him to hurt anybody; he became much nicer, yeah he would still like to act annoyed whenever you called for him; but that never stopped him from coming.

then it was the sex; it did take some time to get used to having sex with one demon; let alone two demons; two with different personalities. jake was always on the more softer side; sometimes borderline subby— but sunghoon; sunghoon was never on the soft side, he was in control , that's how he wanted it, and that's how you liked it.

the three of you eventually crossed the line into having sex all together; it first happened one day when you invited kai over— they really didn't like that; but you had promised kai another date, and you wanted to cook for him. that meant jake and sunghoon had to go into hiding; they for sure hated that. then when kai went to kiss you for the night; leaving— that was the last straw for the both of them.

that night; it ended up with both of them taking turns, fucking you; using your body for their pleasure. it was hot, sunghoon was his usual rough self; but even jake was rough, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as they pumped loads of your cum inside of them. that was the first time; after that it was basically free game, some days you'd just have sex with one of them, but there were some days you'd want both of them, or vice versa.

spending your days with both of them; the summer months slowly coming to an end, the questions hanging in the air everyday—what would you do when it was time for you to leave? you thought about the question everyday, so much the boys even listened in for it, sunghoon eventually trying to tune it out. “I don't want to hear your internal battle , think about something else.” is what he would always say. Jake on the other hand , would get sad every single time, you'd comfort him, telling him you'd make the right decision.

then it was the obvious elephant in the room; well the demon who doesn't show himself; jay— after confirming that it was him who shown himself in the mirror you were sure he'd eventually show himself, but he never did; but it was like you could feel his presence even though you didn't know him, you knew he was there, and he knew you knew.

jay; much like sunghoon hated your grandmother, but if he liked one thing about her, as a young girl she was just as vain and cold as she was as a elder woman, and loved to buy mirrors and placing them all around the house just to stare at herself— it annoyed him, watching her just stare at herself whenever she walked by, sometimes jay just wanted to shatter the glass; he hated what she made sunghoon do, but what could he do, he was a prisoner just like sunghoon; matter fact he was a prisoner much longer than sunghoon.

his liking for the mirrors came with you, you never really stopped to look at the mirrors, but he would catch glimpses of you, when you walked around the house the first night looking in all the rooms; when you first met jake, he was looking in the mirror, chuckling at how jake would stutter, and you tried to get away; he told jake not to startle you, but he knew his brother couldn't help it. He was pissed when Sunghoon tried to lure you into the wrong tunnel. He was the one who let jake know what his other brother was doing; he could have rescued you, but he let jake do it; he just stuck to watching you.

he didn't mean to look into the bathroom mirror; he was just looking through each mirror, hoping to get another glimpse of you that day; noticing you were naked , he quickly gave you the privacy you deserved, but he knew you had seen him; maybe a small part of him wanted you see him; he wanted it to be you; the first person to see him in 200 years.

jay was falling for you much like his brothers; sunghoon too, even if he swore he would never fall for you— and he knew your time was coming up, and he knew you had a decision to make, and regardless of the decision you make he wants to meet you formally once, even if he knew it could be his first and last time.

“it's been 200 years, he's probably just shy.” jake said, sunghoon snickering, watching the show, shoving food down his throat; no he didn't need it , he just like making a mess, leaving you and jake to clean. “maybe he hates you.” your mouth hung open and jake threw a pillow at him. “he doesn't hate you, he doesn't even know you, sunghoon you aren't helping.” then demon shrugged. “just saying the only time he saw you was through a mirror.”

“well why'd he stop coming out in the first place?” you asked. “I don't know.” Jake said, but you didn't buy it. “im serious, don't lie to me right now.” sunghoon groaned. “you two are annoying, look jay is a reserved person, no one knows why he stopped coming out , he just did.” sunghoon said, you both stared at him. “and if I take the necklace, you sure there's not a way I can leave him here?” you said , he glared. “no , sadly he comes with it as well.” Jake said. “haha , Jake won't save you later.” and with that he disappeared. “he's gonna hurt me one day isn't he?”

“kill you? no he's way passed that? but i can't be to certain that your mouth won't get your walking abilities put on pause for a few days, which could be bad for you.” you nodded. “I'm willing to take that chance, I like seeing him get upset.”

‘stupid fucking sunghoon’ is what you thought limping into the bathroom, looking in the mirror, your neck covered in bruises and marks from him practicing trying to suck the skin off your neck; grumbling curse words under your mouth. “I told you.” Jake yelled from your bedroom. “Jake, I will take this necklace off.” his eyes widened. “why would you even joke like that?” he whined. “You know I'm sensitive about it.” you shook your head. “my god for a demon you surely do have the emotions of a human still.”

looking for your concealer that sat on the counter, trying to cover it up. “i have to go out today.” you whined. “sunghoon!” you shouted. “he won't come out.” Jake said. “he took my concealer, i know he did.” you cursed at him. “he's the one stealing my stuff , I know he is.” you said. “yeah cause im stealing your things and not the one you found in your closet.” you heard his voice. “hey , I didnt take anything.” Jake argued. “yeah and why are her pink panties under your pillow?” you shook your head hearing Jake trying to defend himself, and sunghoon mocking him.

ignoring them both , you continue on with what you were doing; checking the bruises on your neck. “guess I’ll pick up some more concealer.” you said to yourself— then you see it; in your peripheral vision, written in the fog. ‘hi’ you furrow your eyebrows. “jake, sunghoon are you too playing around, stop drawing on the mirrors.” you realize how crazy that sounded, so did they. “why the fuck would I do such childish things?” you heard sunghoon say. “it's not me.” Jake said.

then you saw it with your own eyes; slowly words showed up in the mirror. ‘its not them’— you look around confused, looking back into the mirror. “it's you isn't it?” and then you see him in the mirror; and you remember the face immediately. “I'm jay.” the one you swore you'd never see; right in front of you with all his beauty. “not too bad yourself.” he smirked; he was reading your mind as well. “You're actually even more beautiful now that I can see you and not just through glimpses of you walking past a mirror.

“well maybe if you came out you could actually see me.” he nods. “You are right, not yet though.” he said; you tilted your head to the side. “not yet princess , when the time is right.” he said. “I'll see you real soon; just needed good glimpse of you today.” he smiled. “but— he's coming.” he was gone , you looked confused. “the hell is wrong with you?” sunghoon standing behind you. “I think I just met jay.” you said , looking back into the mirror; huffing at the mirror; ‘sunghoon, concealer, trash.” spinning around. “you asshole, you threw my concealer in the trash.”

“stop throwing things in the cart.” you scolded jake. “i swear it was him , unless you have another demon brother I don't know about.” sunghoon studied the food. “these cannot be that healthy.” you sighed. “Why did you guys come anyway?” you asked. “No fucking help.”

“yn?” you saw kai approaching you, sunghoon holding your waist, Jake glaring at the boy. you bump the boy in front with the cart. “hi kai.” you smiled, he returned the gesture. “i see your cousin is back.” he pointed to sunghoon. “nice to see you again.” sunghoon rolled his eyes. “and who is this?” jake spoke up. “I'm jake.” Kai nodded, his eyes lowering to where sunghoon's hands rested. “I'm not her cousin.” he said. “yeah we're her— they're my close family friends, they came back to help me with my grandmothers house.” he nodded, looking at the bruises on your neck , and then back at sunghoon, who grip got tighter. “oh , okay.” he frowned , finally getting sort of a sense of what was going on. “i have to go stock the shelves, I'll see you soon , hopefully before you leave.” he quickly walked away, you glared at the boys. “seriously?”

“did you come here just to intimidate him?” sunghoon removed his arm. “you did , both of you?” Jake gave you that smile, that got him out of everything. “i can't , I'm gonna go talk to him and apologize.” sunghoon stopped you. “doesn't matter now.” he said , cold as always. “yeah but he deserves an explanation.” you said. “he'll find a pretty girl and marry soon anyway.” he said. “and you can see the future.” you said, he looked at you. “i've got to learn to stop asking questions.”

“and why do I have to carry all these backs.” Jake struggled behind you. “because sunghoon I expect this , he won't ever change , but you jake I expect more.” you said, he pouted. “it wasn't my idea.” he mumbled. “did I put a gun to your head?” sunghoon said. “You're not in the clear , put them up.” you started up the steps , the boy glared , standing up. “I told you about telling me what to do.” you smiled, knowing he had no choice. “yeah well I had to pay 8 dollars for a new concealer so.”

making your way into your room , pushing the door open; your eyes immediately going to the mirror that sat in front of the bed, was he there? walking over , looking inside it. “are you there?” you knocked on the mirror; no answer. “Was I really going crazy earlier?” you start to question yourself. “ugh! these damn marks.” you groaned, seriously thinking about putting that boy on a sex ban. “That's gonna piss him off even more.”

your eyes lit up wide upon hearing the voice, you stood up and there he was; no he wasn't in the mirror, he was standing behind you. “turn around.” you turned around, facing him. “you were looking for me,” he smiled. “in-in the mirror.” you stuttered. “Oh, would you like me to go back?” he asked. “no.” you said, you thanked god for sending you three beautiful men, whatever you did in your past life , you hope to do it again. he smirked, his hand coming up to your cheek, his warm touch. “not god baby.”

His aura was different; he didn't seem like sunghoon or jake, you could tell they were human, because they still possessed certain human traits; jealousy being one of course. “i can hear what you're thinking,” he said. “human turned demons are pretty jealous, but demons who were born as demons are worse.” he said , his hand holding your jaw. “i get jealous all the time , watching them interact with you.” he said. “watching them fuck you, I love my brothers and I know you're ours to share.” his hands tighten just a bit. “But I can't help it , it's in my nature.”

he heard your heartbeat quickening, your face heating up in his hand, the smell of your scent about to set him off; not yet though. “Why did you only show yourself to me in the mirror?” you asked once he let your face go , his hands resting on your waist. “because I needed confirmation,” he said. “What is that?” you asked. “if you really were ours.” he said , his nose was so close to yours. “and?” he nodded. “I'm here aren't I?”

“jay?” jake was the one who broke the obvious sexual tension. “oh shit she really wasn't losing her mind, I thought she was.” sunghoon sat on the bed. “200 hundred years , and she's the one to pull you from the depth of your hellish like room.” Jay's eyes were trained on you. “He's serious I see.” Sunghoon said. “Should we give you some privacy, can't say Jake won't be listening though , we all know he's a perv.” Jake was about to defend himself once again when Jay turned to both of them. “no , I'll come back,” he said, turning back to you. “I'll see you soon princess.” and just like that he was gone. “You must really be something special.” Jake said, you smiled, your face still hot.

‘even though he said he didn't need it , he surely slept like he needed it’ you groan, hearing jake snoring next to you; something he did now so he never had to leave— but he slept like he'd taken 40 melatonin's; and the ache in between your legs prevented you for going to sleep. you tried calling for sunghoon; he ignored you the first three times , before telling you to go to bed in your head, which annoyed you.

After much deliberation with yourself, you decided that you weren't gonna get any sleep unless you got off; so here you were , Jake next to you as your hands traveled in between your shorts, rubbing yourself through your drenched panties. you bit your lip, whimpering as you drew lazy figure eights on your sensitive clit. “now I know that's not doing much, is it?” you heard a voice; not jake's, he was still sound asleep. “In the mirror baby.”

It was jay; he was looking at you through the mirror again— he was looking at you pleasuring yourself, you were about to pull your hand out, embarrassed he heard and saw you. “did I say stop?” you could hear his voice in your head. “keep going , I want to watch you play with your little clit.” his words made you moan. “take the blanket off; your little shorts too, I wanna see your pretty pussy.”

moving the blanket off of you , sliding your shorts down your legs. “good girl, open your legs.” spreading your legs, the air hitting your heat. “so wet, you're dripping all over the sheets baby , keep touching your clit , get your pussy even wetter.” you could hear him groan. “fuck i should've fucked you earlier, told them to leave just so I could have you all to myself.” he moaned; was he touching himself? “fuck yes I'm touching myself, you think I'd just help you out baby.” you moaned. “J-jay.”

“moaning my name and I'm not even physical there , nasty girl.” he said. “use those fingers, two of them.” he said, two of your digits pressing against your hole. “good , now stuff your pussy with your fingers.” it wasn't a much of a stretch, but it still made you moan out in pleasure. “fuck your pussy is so tight , can't wait to stretch you open with my cock.” he said. “my cock is getting harder just thinking about it.”

you tried to imagine what his dick looked like , how it would feel. “soon princess, soon I'll stuff you full of my cock.” he groaned again. “fu-fuck jay I'm gonna cum.” You moaned , you could hear him moaning. “fu-fuck me too.” he said. “cum all over those finger.” you covered your mouth , almost letting out a scream as you came. “fuck you're so sexy, next time it's not gonna be in your pretty head -fuck- I'm gonna make you cum with my cock.” he grunted. “fuck I'm cumming!”

your eyelids grew heavier, sleep ready to consume you. “Good girl, get some rest.” you heard him say. “good night jay.” you said out loud. “goodnight princess.” you heard him say in your head, just before letting the sleep consume you.

“right next to me.” Jake said the next morning; sunghoon ready to be sent back to hell just to get away from the boys complaining. “you got off right next to me, while I slept, I don't even need sleep , I sleep because of you.” he said. “and this is how you repay me , you masturbate with jay right next to my body.” he said. “Jake , it just kinda happened , plus you sleep like you were drugged.” sunghoon spoke up. “and this is nothing, you'd be surprised what we've done while you were sleeping.” you let them argue over that for a while— the question looming over your head seeming more and more clear , but you still weren't sure yet.

“jesus girl I thought you were dead.” yeji said. “Did you find some new summer dick up there and forget that you have friends back here.” you laughed. “not exactly.” you said. “god , I only talked to you like 3 times and it's been 2 months , leave me hanging like that again and I'm calling for a wellness check.” she scolded. “I'm serious.” you let your friend go on and on about all the updates you missed. “fucking tina is already complaining about work , like girl it's a paid internship and your spot of confirmed at the company.” you laughed. “yeah , thats cause she's fucking the CEO.”

“Which is crazy, but can't blame her.” you agreed. “But now to the serious topic.” she said. “Who is giving it to you , cause girl I can practically hear the glow dripping off of you.” you rolled your eyes, if only you could her , you would but she'd never believe; she might even push that wellness check to now. “do I need someone to fuck me in order to be happy?” you try to defend. “Girl, given that you sound like you hate life 24/7, yes, so tell.” she said. “no one.” you said. “Well whatever vibrator you have , I need it.”

She eventually talked herself until she was tired , letting you go. “one more month and we'll be together soon.” you said. “Of course and then we'll start our life together and have beautiful babies and get married.” you laughed. “yeah , many many babies.” you said. “don't go crazy up there girl , I'll talk to you soon.” she said before hanging up.

getting ready for the night; the boys doing whatever the two demons did when they weren't bothering you; you took a long hot shower, washed your hair; did a face mask , just enjoying the quiet before getting out, wrapping a towel around your body , making your way out of the bathroom. “i’ve been waiting a long time, princess.” you jumped a little holding the front of your towel. “That towel isn't covering anything I haven't seen already.” he smirked. “twice.”

standing up walking towards, you look to the side , at the mirror. “you look just as good in person as you do in the mirror princess.” he said, coming closer to you, raising his hand up to the towel. “although I would like to see you in the mirror all fucked out.”

he grabbed the towel , tugging at it , letting it fall to the ground; leaving you naked in front of him. “so pretty.” the demon , pushed you down on the bed. “J-jay.” You moaned out, he smiled down at you. “be a good girl.” He took your hand , guiding you down to his pants, you unbuckled his pants, freeing his cock. “fuck, put it in your mouth.” the demon groaned , looking in the mirror as you bobbed your head up and down , gagging occasionally on his thick cock. “fuck your mouth feels so good , grabbing your wet hair , pushing you further down on him. “fuck , I'm gonna cum.” he pushed your head down. “fuck take it , take my cum.” his head lolled back as he pump a load of his cum down your throat. “shit.”

Barely giving you a moment to take a break, before ridding himself of his clothes. “ass up princess.” he stroked himself. “fu-fuck look in the mirror baby , just like the first day I saw you.” he grabbed the back of your head , turning it to the mirror. “all pretty and ready for me to fuck.” You felt his cock head pressing against your hole. “I want you to watch as I fuck you.” you moaned as he pushed himself inside of you. “oh fuck , you're so tight.” he groaned , fully bottoming out. “ja-jay.” you tried to close your eyes. “no, no.” He stopped moving. “open your eyes.”

you forced your eyes open, the sight in the mirror so lewd , you couldn't help but moan. “see how fucking pretty you look, the prettiest I've seen in -fuck- hundreds of years.” the grip on your hips tighter as he began to plow into you. “ja-jay fuck I'm gonna cum.” you screamed. “shit , cum.” he pressed your head further into the mattress. “cum all over my cock.” he howled.

your body giving up , going limp as you came, he held you up , using your body to get himself off. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” his thrusts were relentless. “fuck I'm cumming.” He grunted. “shit!” he pumped his load into your cunt. “you feel so good.” he slowly pulled out of you. “so good baby.”

letting you shower again; dragging a jealous Jake from his room to help him look for your pajamas to set out for you; sending him back on his way, this was his time with you. “go, now.” he glared at the boy. “She's gonna ask, she asked all of us.” he said before disappearing, again. “Was that Jake , what did he want?” you asked , smiling at the display of clothes. “Thank you.”

“So why'd you stop coming out for 200 years?” you asked, he sat at the foot of the bed. “my dad banished me here years ago , when the first owner owned the house,” he said. “your dad?” you asked. “your dad was lucifer?” your eyes widened. “I've gotten that look at least 300 times.” he said. “the first guy found the necklace and that's how it all started , he summoned me and I was a prisoner ever since.” he said. “why did he send you here?” you asked.

“because that's what happens to abominations.” he said, you were even more confused. “my mother was a human, he seduced her , she fell in love with him and brought her to hell because well she was a naive human.” he said. “but he quickly fell out of love with her, because he's a heartless bastard— but he didn't kill her because she was pregnant with me , and regardless of me being half human , i was still part demon, and he thought if he raised me that would get rid of the good.”

you are now sitting up, listening to him talk. “hundreds of years later he realized there was no changing me, no matter how many murders he made me watch, the screams of the tortured souls in hell, none of it made me happy, like it made him.” He said. “He didn't want to kill his only son , so he banished me here,” he said. “and your mom?” his jaw clenched. “She's roaming around hell, she can't escape and I can't find her,” he said. “and even if i bring her here she'll age in human years within a second.” All these boys had terrible back stories, you felt extreme empathy for every single one of them.

“so why did you come out for me?” you asked, he smiled. “because I can feel it.” he said. “out of all the people who've had the necklace, you're the one who bonded with each one of us , you've even managed to bond with sunghoon and trust me he wasn't just like that because of your grandmother.” he said. “I believe you were meant to have the necklace— the last person to have the necklace.” he said. “You can break the curse.”

“break the curse?” you asked. “what does that mean?”

“This curse could end with you,” he said. “multiple years ago, when Jake first arrived, my dad came to me , if we could find someone willing to take the necklace and keep the necklace until they die then he'd set us free, jake and sunghoon could crossover and he'd allow my mom to cross over.” he said. “and you?” he smiled. “there's no crossing over for me, that's not apart of the deal.” he said. “What happens to you?” he lowered his, but you lifted it back up. “I will go back to hell and become the heir,” he said. “But it's what I'm willing to do for my family,” he said. “if they'll be happy in the end , I can live with it.”

“and no one has ever said yes?” he shook his head. “who wants to live with three demons attached to their hip? people get married , have families, even if they bond with one of us , they have to bond with all of us.” he said. “So normally they just put the necklace back, and forget us,” he said. “and you've managed to bond with us all, that's I came out , because I know you can break it.” he said , standing up. “i know it's a lot , you have a lot to think about.” he said. “But please promise to think about it.” he said, you nodded. “Of course, of course I will.” he smiled. “Thank you baby.”

“Now get some rest.”

TAGLIST. @deobitful @in-somnias-world @darlingz99 @luvitaria @lost-fantasy @lostinneocity @nalenhypen @heeshlove @kirinaa08 @strxwbloody @ryn000 @neosexuals @sakanelli-afc @yizhoutv @capri-cuntz @lilyuwon @criminalseung @hanhaeji @eggomi @serenijiny @luvvsnae @jakesfurry

©️LUVYENI

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Now It's Always Summertime

History Professor!Reader x Student!Natasha Romanoff x Student!Wanda Maximoff

Summary: You're just trying to get your thoughts together for the upcoming semester, but there are a few distractions.

Word Count: 850

Warnings: Mentions of getting high, student professor relationship, age gap everyone is over 18.

A/N: I watched a Tik Tok that had the right vibes and this came to mind so here you go. A little treat.

You poured the black liquid from your stove top coffee maker into your glass mug. Your favorite mug with a world map on it. The steam bellowed from both the maker and your now full mug. The overhead lights of the office were off leaving the strings of fairy lights that adorned the bookshelves behind you and the warm glow of your desk lamp as the only sources of light. A Golden pothos falling over the sides of the shelves like waterfalls.

The leather bound notebook sat on your desk with coffee ring stains from setting your mug atop of the blank page. You always thought it gave the page character when one found its way to a page. You transferred your thoughts from the newest edition of the history text book you received for this upcoming semester. 

Going over your previous semesters lesson plan and improving on it with the new text book in mind. You taught a few different classes and with the short summer semester coming to an end only to pick back up. Before you'd have time to do anything it would be Autumn with a chill in the air worthy of the hot cup you sipped on.

A knock against the open doorframe brought you from your thoughts. Looking up over your glasses, hair slipping past your ear as your head moved. Your two favorite students stood in your doorway, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. Neither were history majors, but you seem to have captured their attention as they've now taken two of your classes. Your Western Civ I class along with your Mythology class. The two were already in your schedule for the Fall semester for Western Civ II and Wanda somehow snuck her way into your Norse mythology class. 

“What can I do for you girls?” You asked setting your pen down and picking up your mug, refilling it once more before taking a sip. The two girls stepped in and closed the door behind them. Natasha coming around to beside you and looking at the notes you took. 

“Is this for next semester?” The redheaded Russian asked as her finger ran over the words, a small smudge coming at the bottom where the fresh ink resided. You took her hand in your own after setting the mug down. Much like a mother would you licked one of your own fingers and used it to wipe the mark away on her finger.

“It is and I'd appreciate if my notes could stay intact. My thoughts are jumbled enough without you smudging them Tasha.” You looked up at the red head with a smirk plastered on your face and hers adorned a blush as Wanda came to your other side arms wrapping around your shoulders. 

“We wanted to know if we could help you with anything?” You felt her breath on the shell of your ear. Your attention moving from the Russian to the Sokovian. 

“I'm sure you two could be studying for your finals instead of coming to ask if I need help.” You raised an eyebrow to the brunette, the smirk still on your face as her forehead found your cheek. 

“Need some stress relief.” She murmured against you making a chuckle bubble up from your chest. Wanda let out a whine in protest of your chuckle. 

“Well she needs a stress relief. I'm getting high later.” Your head spun back to the redhead. 

“Without me? Rude.” Natasha started laughing along with you.

“Well I can bring it if you say we can come over tonight and then we can all have a good time.” Natasha wiggled her eyebrows and tugged on your hand that was still in hers. Another whine falling past Wanda's lips is what made you give in. 

“Okay. Okay you two can come over. We'll get high and have some stress relief from finals for everyone's sake.” Both girls became excited at the thought of getting to come over. 

You lived a ways away from campus so you never worried about anyone seeing the girls come over since the three of you started up this throuple of yours at the beginning of the summer semester. 

The classes were smaller and the two girls had already caught your eye. Since neither was a history major you figured once they got their history credits you'd never see them again. The campus was huge and the history building was nowhere near where these two spent the rest of their day. Yet when you saw their names once more you knew you had to say something. So as the old saying goes; one thing led to another and here we are. 

You wrapped and arm around Wanda, pulling her into your lap where her face now buried its away into the crook of your neck. Natasha just leaned against you. More than content to have you against her stomach. You never thought this is where you'd be when you started teaching here, but you couldn't be more happy, more full, more loved than you are with these two in your life.

[ultralightpoe]

Mistaken Hatred - Aemond Targaryen

Authors Note: This was a request, but I might have accidentally deleted it! If this was something you requested sorry for the lateness! Idk what happened 

Word Count: 4748

Warnings: angst, aemond is a loud-mouthed asshole 

Description: Aemond is sure that you are enemies and stuck in a marriage of convenience 

Aemond could remember the days when you hadn’t hated him. 

You had both been young, far too young to understand the war brewing between your mothers or recognize any of the vile things that had been said. He could still smell the oils in your hair from all the times your would wrap your arms around him, still taste the strawberries he would steal from you as you both lazed under the weirwood tree together. 

He remembers his heart beating faster at every smile you would give him. 

But something had changed in the both of you somewhere along the way, and though he could not pinpoint a certain moment you became enemies he knew for a fact that he hated you just as much as you hated him.  

“Tell me, bastard, how does it feel knowing you will never live up to anything?” He sneered, watching as your eyes narrowed in on him. 

“Are you sure you even know who you are speaking to? Can you see out of that rock?” You snap back, giving a false cringe to his eye that makes him blush. “Aemond…… It’s me, it’s Y/n. You are speaking to Lady Y/n.”

  His jaw tenses in anger as you continue to tease him, rolling his eye. “I do still believe that you and your brothers owe me an eye….”

“An eye for an eye? What’s next? You take your mothers balls?” You laugh, walking past him in your riding leathers, making sure to hit him with your hair as you throw it over your shoulder. “Tell me how that goes will you? Always enjoyed watching you cry.” 

The day his father broke the news of the peace treaty Aemond could feel nothing but relief. A tension released as he had the greens and the blacks forge the peace treaty. His half sister, Rhaenyra, would get the throne and after her it would pass to her son. 

But there were things needed to ensure the alliance lasted past his fathers dying wish, a marriage for example. 

His brother had already been married of to his poor older sister, Aemond only feeling pity for his closest friend as she struggled to survive. His nephews had been arranged to marry the Velayron girls to ensure that peace, and his baby brother Daeron would still be in Olde Town until the end of summer. That left him…….and you. 

When Viserys made the announcement Aemond had already been looking to you, waiting with baited breath for you to argue. A wave of embarrassment already clinging to his being at the thought of you outright denying him. 

Not that he cared, you were a constant thorn in his side. 

“Tell me, do people ever make eye contact when they speak to you?” You snipe, sitting across from him at the septas library, smirking. “Would you feel better if I went cross eyed?”

“I would feel better if you left. Or if you and your siblings were finally taken from the world. ” He sighs, refusing to look up from the book he had grabbed for the day. “You have a terrible habit of absorbing all the energy and patience of a room.”

“Good to know I have such a large effect on you.” You laugh, snatching the book before he could process what you were doing. “Thank you.”

“I was reading that you bastard-”

“Oh here we go with the bastard- Aemond, darling, I look exactly like my mother. You have no evidence.” You stick out your tongue before moving to stand.

“Give the book back!” He sneers, launching for it until you hit his forehead with it lightly.

“I need it, you ghost. Go find a romance somewhere.” 

“I was reading it-” “I take precedence-”

“No you absolutely do not-”

“I do indeed, my matter is more important than yours.” You say it bluntly, with such a straight face that Aemond finds himself intrigued.

“What do you need it for?”

“I need it to impress a boy.” You smile, moving to leave. 

Aemond clenches his fist as an unknown feeling settles in his gut, watching you leave with his book. 

You hadn’t looked at him that day, but you hadn’t argued either. You merely stared at the floor in quiet surrender that had his jaw clenching. 

You were acting sad when it was him that was being thrown up like a fucking pawn? Would it really be so bad to be married to him?

Rhaenrya and his mother met in the middle of the throne room, hugging softly as all the children watched, you refusing to look up while you held your youngest brothers hand tightly. 

Jace and Luke stood on either side of you while Joffrey stood right by Daemon, who was holding young Aegon to his chest. 

“May our families join as one, once more.” Viserys smiles, the cue taken soon enough as everyone began to mingle. 

“Let us see the future lovers closer together!” The elder Aegon slurs, snatching your shoulder to drag you closer to Aemond. 

He takes a moment to slap his brothers hand away from your shoulder, shoving him back and mumbling “Don’t ruin this peace treaty Aegon.”

When he turned to speak with you it seemed you already disappeared, spotting you in the hallway with your stepfather Daemon arguing. 

The blistering heat seeped into his skin as his riding leathers seemed heavier with each step he took, hair beginning to mat to his neck. 

Aegons 18th name day was to be celebrated by a tourney, every knight lord and noble of the realm having traveled to compete or attend, including all the beautiful females.

Not that the last fact would ever matter to Aemond, who had been completely ignored by every female since he had his eye carved out as a boy. All except one, one constant pain in his side. 

“Lord Baratheon, this is my-.....this is Prince Aemond.” You correct yourself, a sweet smile laced on your features as you keep a hand rested in the lords elbow. 

“Prince Aemond! A pleasure to meet you!” The lord smiles, bowing slightly, giving Aemond the chance of making quick eye contact with you before the lord stands to his full height once more. 

“We’ve met…. My 13th name day, 3 years ago.” He says tightly, hands crossed behind his back as he turns to look away from the both of you.

“Right… the um…. The year that you….”

“The year my nephews tore out my nephew and you and your charming followers through dirt in it on my own name day?” He reminds, turning just in time to see a look of shock cross your features. You obviously hadn’t know, having been dragged back home to Dragonstone for your parents to marry in secret. 

“I…. must have been far too into the ale My Prince.” The lord lies, trying not to look irritated or embarrassed. “Lady Y/n was allowing me to escort her to the-”

“Princess Y/n.” Aemond reminds, finally looking to the lord. “Bastard or not her mother is the heir.”

“Aemond-” You snap, turning to the boy in a panic as Aemond laughs. “My lord, I do apologize-”

“So it’s true? You’re a bastard?” The boy snaps, eyes narrowed as he looks down at you. For a second Aemond gets a rush of irritation looking at how the lord was using his height as a weapon against you, taking a second to step between you two.

“I- Lord Baratheon, the words my uncle speaks come from anger and not truth- you must believe me.” You try to ease the situation and the lord gives you a skeptical look. “Let us get back to our walk, you were just telling me about the difference between dear and elk?” 

“Is that why you picked the book up the other day? To try and hide your half title from any suitor?” Aemond snaps, finally scaring off the other male as you whip to look at him. 

“That was not funny-”

“Shouldn’t you be sitting with the rest of your fucking bastard family?”

“What is wrong with you today?” You snap, turning to walk away but he follows.

“You are my problem, walking around just like your mother had.”

“What does that mean?” You whip around to glare, a smirk crossing his features as he finally pinpoints how to irritate you.

“It means you and your mother are whore-” A hand snaps across his face making his head whip back, a shocked look taking over. “Wha-”

“I suggest you fix your tone and implications the next time I see you. Prince.” You snap, storming off. 

You don’t make any eye contact at the wedding. 

Not when you slice your hand open as well as his, not when he rubs his bloody thumb over your forehead and you do the same to him. 

Aemond can’t do anything but stare. 

You had worn one of the finest gowns in westeros, hand stitched by 4 people to fully celebrate the union between blacks and greens. Your hair had been done into one of the most intricate braids he had ever seen, pearls and diamonds braided in. 

He mutters the respective words of the Targaryen wedding tradition before you do the same, leaning to touch your nose against his as told, finally looking at him. His heart stops in his chest as he attempts an easy smile. You ignore it. 

You sit by him at the feast, smiling at all the guests that had come to congratulate you both on the union and peace treaty. 

Though when once a particular lord comes up he feels your entire being tense as a faint recognition travels through him. 

“I congratulate the two on a blessed union, and I hope them well in the children department.” He mutters, head bowing as Aemond nods, trying to remember where he had seen the man. “Let us hope that Y/n carries the bastard blood to save her from the Targaryen curses with pregnancy.”

The room silenced almost instantly, everyone holding their breath as Aemond finally recognized the man in front of him. It was the lord from a couple years back, the one he had mocked your legitimacy to. 

“Hold your tongue Lord Baratheon-” His father snaps, casting a look to Rhaenyra who was holding her own stomach. 

Targaryen pregnancies were a curse indeed, for his fathers first wife had gone through multiple and the only one to come was Rhaenyra herself. 

“I wouldn’t worry about any future heirs , Lord Baratheon, it’s not my style.” Aemonds entire tone is tart, casting a side look to see you clenching your fist and biting your lip. 

You must have been embarrassed from the bastard comment the lord made, and for the very thought of being bred like a horse. Aemond hated the thought himself, he would not be providing an heir unless you yourself asked for one.

The lord is dismissed with a group of guards under the pretense of them taking him home, but Aemond knew that Daemon had already ordered he wasn’t to leave the grounds alive. The second the group disappears through the doors the festivities begin again and Aemond finds himself standing up when you do.

“Did you want to dance-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you slap his outstretched hand away. 

“I’m not feeling well. I shall be going to my chambers.” You reply, moving to walk past him but he stops you with a hand on your elbow. 

“People will talk-”

“Oh please. They have been fed enough gossip to last them months. Lord Baratheon implying that I am a bastard in front of the court and my new husband stating I was not to his taste? I’ve been made a laughing stock tonig-”

“I did not say you were not to my taste. I meant forcing an heir was not to my taste.” He rushes out, getting extremely defensive without meaning to. “When did you become so weak? I can remember multiple times where your tongue was as silver as a snake.”

“Or maybe I just finally realized that you were being serious all those times.” You seethe, hitting his shoulder. 

“And you weren’t?” He is absolutely dumbfounded. You two had been enemies for years? What could you mean you weren’t serious?

“I was a fool who thought we were jesting. And I soon realized that you were just a monster.” You reply cooly, finally making your escape and leaving Aemond at your wedding. 

“Don’t tell me, little princling, you don’t have any friends?” You giggle, coming around the thick tree to see Aemond hiding and reading. 

His eyebrows knot together as a scowl takes over, turning to you. “I hadn’t realized the brothel would be moving into the keep….. Please tell me they put your rooms far away from mine. Only the gods know what I could catch within dragon space of you.” 

“Mmmm. Thinking of ways to catch something are you? Want to ride-”

“What do you need, bastard?” He snaps, a heat traveling his skin as he watches something twinge in your features. 

“I was hoping we could discuss the other day,” You say, tone sounding all too serious. “When I slappe-”

“I remember quite well.” He interrupts, slamming the book shut. The same book you had stolen him a mere 2 weeks before. 

“It was a terrible reaction, I am aware. I just- well you see…. I was trying to impress Lord Baratheon for my moth-”

“Is there a reason I should care?”

“I’m trying to explain why I am upset, Aemond. So that I may apologize correctly” You sigh, looking completely puzzled. “I feel we crossed a line the other day and I had no idea-”

“Crossed a line? How so? It is well within my right to call a whore when I see one.” He snaps, standing so he wasn’t looking up at you. The sunlight perfectly framed your figure as he moved closer, waiting for your retaliation that never came. “What? Don’t you want to make a comment? Something humorous to go and laugh at with your lowlife wasteful siblings.”

“Watch your tongue-”

“Or what?” He snaps, stepping closer. You instantly shove him back with a hurt look. 

“You……this entire time you meant everything….” You looked absolutely torn, some of your hair falling out of your braid as you watch him. “I… oh how foolish I have been.”

You are storming off then, hands clenched as you march past Aegon and go to where your eldest brother waits for you. 

“RUN AND CRY TO YOUR FAMILY THEN! MAYBE YOU CAN TELL YOUR REAL FATHER ALL ABOUT IT SOON!” 

Jace whips around to charge at him and Aegon but you catch your brothers arm, pulling him harshly and muttering something under your breath before you both disappear from sight.

Before Aegon can make a snappy comment Aemond storms off, leaving the book under the tree.

Aemond doesn’t see you for three days after the wedding, but he doesn’t mind that, his brain is still trying to wrap around the confusion of your words. 

What had you mean that you thought it was all a jest, had you been mocking him for a reaction all those years? Had you not been trying to fight him? 

“Prince Aemond, Princess Y/n has sent a-” He snatches the note from the pageboy instantly, unraveling it to read the contents inside. 

‘Heading to Dragonstone to help with the rest of my mothers pregnancy. I will send word before I return.’

“Has she left already?” He asks, standing to get to the door and find your chambers, needing to talk to you before you left. Just to sort some of his thoughts out. 

“She took flight this morn, with her brothers, to follow their Princess Rhaenrya back home.” The page explains. “Left that in the room, maids brought it to me.”

A sigh escapes Aemond as he nods, heading out of the room to find one of his own siblings. He would send a raven asking for a word later, right now he needed to finalize some of the peace treaties issues. 

He was ashamed to admit he sat in the library and waited for you to come in just as you always did and bother him. He waited to start a fight with you, already thinking of insults that would keep up with your own. 

He pretended to read the history book he had snatched that morning as he listened for the door, trying not to seem too excited when he heard it groan. 

It had been a week since the day under the weirwood tree, and neither of you had gone this long without mocking the other. He was beginning to get an anxious feeling. 

“Prince Aemond-” His head snaps up when he realizes it’s not you, angry that it wasn’t your smug voice about to mock him. “Your mother has requested your presence-”

“Tell her I am busy.” He says quickly, turning to the door to make sure you don;t enter without him noticing. 

“She says that she will not let you hide in here all day. She says I must take you to her or the trai-”

“Fine.” He sighs, grabbing his sword and storming out. 

He sees a dash of y/h/c and straightens as he leaves, disappointment filling him when it was just a trick of light. 

Your mother had lost the babe, naming the child Aemma in honor of her own mother, and you had sent word that you would be staying to care for your mother in her time of need. 

That hadn’t annoyed Aemond, what had annoyed him was that you sent word to his mother and not he. 

“Page?” He calls the young boy as his mother stares. “Are you sure I haven’t received any news from dragonsto-”

“Just the one raven My lord. I accepted it myself.” The page says, bowing. Aemond feels a wave of dread and embarrassment fill him as he turns back to his mother. 

“Are my ravens not reaching there?” 

“As far as I am aware they are, dearest.” Alicent sighs, standing to rub his cheek.

“Please let my lady wife know I am patiently waiting to hear from her.” He sighs, teeth rubbing together as he leaves the room. 

“Is there any word on Lady Y/n?” Aemond asks one of the guards, trying to seem casual. “I have not seen her around the keep in a couple days.”

“Lady Y/n has traveled with her father to grab a dragon egg for her future sibling,” The guard explains. Aemond feels a wave of relief at the fact that you had been gone and not avoiding him. That is until, “They left this morning, Prince.”

“Why did she go at all?” 

“Princess Rhaenrya is due to labor soon and they were hoping her dragon would help find the eggs.” 

Rhaenrya was about to have her first child with Daemon, and as Targaryen tradition held the babe would get an egg, the only issue was the lack of eggs. 

There had been a dragon on the island eating all the unhatched eggs, the people beginning to call him Cannibal. 

“Will you notify me when they return? I believe she has a book of mine-”

“It is to my understanding Prince, that Lady Y/n will be staying at Dragonstone with the rest of her family.”

Aemond is at a loss for words, storming off. 

Another week had passed and Aemond had debated flying out to Dragonstone himself and demanding answers, but he quickly remembers that this is a marriage of convenience to you and he does not wish to look like a fool. 

King Viserys dies, and although he is minorly upset, Aemond is delighted that you will have to come back to Kings Landing. 

He waits for your dragon to land, watching you closely as you dismount the dragon and climb down the ladder you had, eyes meeting his instantly. 

He is ashamed to admit that his heart beat wildly as you made your way closer, wearing black for mourning. 

“I am sorry for your loss, Husband.” You say lowly, moving to walk by him but he turns to keep walking with you. 

“As I am yours, Wife.” He mumbles, trying to keep up with your quick pace. “I have not heard from you, I had assumed you to be dead.”

“I do know you wish me to see my father, how very thoughtful you have always been.” You mutter, words sounding venomous as you trail along the courtyard. 

“I was hoping we could discuss-” He could not understand why he was so nervous. What was freaking him out so much? “I must go and attend to my ladies at court, much to do before my mother's coronation.” You interrupt, strutting off and leaving him behind. 

He barely sees you at your mothers coronation, for you were standing with the rest of your siblings to watch closer than the rest. 

While you were watching your mother with wide eyes, Aemond could not drag his eyes away from you. 

His chest ached as he prayed for a chance to talk to you, just for a moment. 

You’re gone by daylight, Aemond asking for you and your father telling him you were caring for an issue left on Dragonstone. 

He is agitated at the news but doesn’t have time to think before Rhaenyra is asking him to fly to Winterfell. “Lord Stark is the final signature needed to back my coronation, I need a good rider to get there and back.”

“After that may I have your permission to head to Dragonstone.” He snaps, trying to keep his cool as Daemons head whips to look at him. “I wish to see my wife and I am aware that Dragonstone is not-”

“You are permitted.” Rhaenyra smiles, patting his shoulder before moving to where his mother stood. 

He does as told, heading to Winterfell on Vhagar to receive the final signature. He stays there for a week as they go over all the final details before a messenger races in, running straight for Aemond.

He doesn’t say anything as he tears it open, reading the contents inside over and over before apologizing to Lord Cregon and rushing for Vhagar. 

It takes nearly 2 days of flying before he gets to you at dragonstone. Landing Vhagar and jumping down from the saddle while racing behind a guard to get to you. 

He doesn’t waste time thanking the guard or waiting to be announced as he burst into the room, making you jump from where you are sat in a bed. 

“Aemond? You should be in Winter-”You begin to yell, moving to sit up. He crosses the room in three strides, softly pushing you back down as you look at him skeptically. 

“I received word that you and your dragon had been hurt.” He states, stepping back to check all the injuries while keeping his hands on your shoulders. “There had been a wild dragon?”

“I was merely trying to protect a batch of eggs.” You explain, trying to remove his hand. “It was fine, you should not have been called-”

“I should not have been summoned after my wife was nearly killed?” He snaps, confusion littering his face as he spots a familiar book on the nightstand. “I knew you stole it.”

“Did you honestly fly out here to accuse me of stealing a book?” You snipe, reaching for it before he can grab it. But you were slow from the injuries and he was already lunging for it. 

“I flew out here because I was terrified you would die-”

“And you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to celebrate it properly?”

“I was afraid that you would die. No snide comments were going to follow that sentence.” He states bluntly, sitting on the edge of the bed to peer into the book. “It’s still so odd to me that you picked this book to impress Lord Baratheon-”

“You think I took that book to impress that trout-faced ass?” You laugh incredusly, still looking nervous at his presence. “I took it to impress you.”

His head snaps up with a blush, smiling softly. “You took the book to impress me?”

“A terrible thought out plan considering I hadn’t quite realized you actually hated me. Did you ever consider that I had been talking you up to Lord Baratheon that day?” You mumble, looking away and messing with the cover of the bed. 

He lets silence consume you both as he flips through the book, stopping when he comes across sketches of himself, all extremely detailed. “D-did you draw these?”

“Awhile ago, yes.” You whisper. “The septa found the book and returned it to me that day-”

“You had been joking all those years, and I had been an ass.” He speaks, voice tight at the truth, watching your face.

“I never meant to offend you-”

“But I had. I had always meant to offend you while you were merely thinking of me as a friend. A friend that you thought was pretty enough to draw.” He states, fingers tracing over one of the sketches. “That entire time I had been a monster.”

“Aemond-”

“That’s why you avoid me now? Because I had acted that way?”

“I figured you’d still hate me.” You sigh, wincing in pain as you try to sit up. Within moments he has one arm wrapped around you torso for support, the other sitting in between your neck and shoulder. 

“How foolish and terrified I have been….”

“You should be in Winter-” You don’t get to finish your words, his lips coming to meet yours soft and slowly. 

You hesitate for a moment before kissing back, hands moving to his hair. 

“I’m sorry…. I’m so sorry.” He whispers in short moments when you both try to catch your breath before lunging back in for another kiss. “I’ve wasted so much time.”

“Aemond…” You breathe out as he pulls you closer, kissing you like a man possessed. He moves you gently so that he his kneeling between your legs and you are resting on the pillows, kissing your jaw with content. 

“I’m sorry..”

“So am I.” You mumble but he shakes his head. 

“I’m a fool. All this time I have wasted trying to hate you and you were merely reaching a playful hand out.” He sighs, kissing down your neck. “Forgive me, please princess, forgive your foolish husband.”

“Forgiven.” You whisper, pulling him back up softly. “It is all forgiven.”

“I do not wish for this to be a marriage of convenience. I wish for you, it’s all I have ever wished for whether I realized it or not. Please- Give me a chance-”

“Accepted.” You smile, pulling him closer and tugging him to kiss you. “You have been granted one more chance.”

He smiles, leaning down and dragging his own lips against yours in a possessive kiss, eye glinting in the soft light. 

Once you are healed he prepares Vhagar, watching you mount your own dragon carefully.

“You feel even the slightest twinge of pain and we head back-”

“Instantly. I know. You worry wart.” You laugh, hair blowing in the wind as he looks at you with a raised brow. “Gonna keep AN EYE on me, Lover boy?”

“Keep taunting all you want…..” He smiles, “You’ll pay for it all tonight, you old maid.”

“Old maid?!” You laugh. “That makes you a corpse!”

You take flight, leaving him to curse and push Vhagar to go, racing through the skies as you begin to track the wild dragon Cannibal. 

It wouldn’t be long before he would need to find a dragon egg for his child, and he needed to make sure there was an egg to procure.

“Come on grandpa! You’re slowing down!” You laugh, looking back to stick your tongue out at him. 

It takes him a moment to catch his breath as he smiles at you, and to think that he missed all of this by being a twit. But he doesn’t apologize again, knowing how you’ve come to hate it, instead he pushed Vhagar faster and calls “Loser won’t be allowed to finish tonight!”

You looked shocked for a moment before he has his dragon sweeping under yours and taking lead. “But considering how much I love you, dearest wife, I will consider giving you at least one orgasm.” 

He laughs and flies off, leaving you desperate to catch up.

(REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND WILL BEGIN BEING POSTED ON MONDAYS)

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[lambtotheslaughterr]

Rise : Chapter Thirteen

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 2.8k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER TWELVE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER FOURTEEN

personal note* @bunnycvnts bby honey love i am SO sorry! i incorrectly placed you under the taglist for only I Burn updates & not Rafe Cameron updates as a whole. i apologize wholeheartedly, my love. from now on, you will be properly tagged in all future RC fics.

118 days since the world ended

            Your world was spinning. Maddeningly so.

            Days bled into one another, weeks passed you by without a thought. You had no control over your mind, constantly free-falling somewhere between conscious autonomy & other-worldly helplessness.

            Sometimes you spoke but you never knew what you were saying, if you were saying anything at all, really. You were completely numb, mindless, isolated from who you once were. And you had Rafe concerned.

            In the weeks that he kept you holed up in your new room, he would come in with lines of coke, forcing you to snort them or if you were too immobile to do so yourself he would rub the powder on your gumlines. He didn’t enjoy seeing you like this, like a zombie, but he thought it the only way to protect you from the trauma of what you had done. Of course, he felt no guilt in his part of it. He felt he was a necessary evil in the new world, & that you were just slow to adapt. But you would adapt. He would make sure of that.

            After the events at the cabin, Rafe ransacked the cabin, taking what would be needed for the next move. He instructed Matt & Robbie to take Sayyed’s wrangler & bring it along as another reliable vehicle. Then he led everyone north to the closest city of Asheboro. There, on the north end of the city in the industrial district, he found an abandoned mill that had been shut down long before the world ended, but did serve as a home for the houseless. Fortunately, there were plenty of necessities to make a living.

            In a long & wide spacious space, there were a plethora of overturned cots & worn through mattresses, metal tables that would work for food, pallets & dusty blankets, & a few empty oil barrels that were once used to build fires. It being summer, fires wouldn’t be needed, but they would come in handy in the winter months. Rafe was quick to set roles for everyone, that is except for you & Bear. He moved you into a small private corner room on the second floor of the building, & Bear to a nearly identical one on the opposite end. He didn’t want you two interacting until you both got with the ways of his world.

            And so as everyone got to their tasks daily & life in the mill began to function decently, Rafe finally turned his attention to you. Even without the coke, you were quiet, displaced from yourself. He needed you to be alert, aware & paying attention to him. And that was when he started bringing you coke. It had worked the first time you fucked in the woods. And the second time when he had to coerce you to have sex with him. It would surely work a third time.

            But much to his disappointment, you hardly reacted to the coke in the first couple days. If anything, it had the opposite effects of his intended wants. You weren’t awake, alert. You became drowsier, your speech slurred. Rafe had never really seen anyone respond to coke like you had in those first couple days. So, he quit. But then your behaviour changed again.

            You became violent, erratic, dangerous—not to others but to yourself. You were so far gone in your mind that you would find ways to hurt yourself. First it was you clawing at your skin, leaving deep, long bloody marks down the sides of your thighs. So he cut your nails & kept them short. Then you stopped eating. Your weight dropped drastically. He took it upon himself to force feed you & make sure you got your share of the food day in & night out. The final straw is when you attacked him. Him! Of all people. He knew it wasn’t really your doing, your intention to really want to harm him, but he couldn’t have you out for his blood, nor could he put you down. That’s when he finally brought on another pair of hands to help him. The only pair he trusted.

            In the first two weeks of living on the edge of Asheboro, Anna had built quite the stockpile of medical supplies & equipment. Much to Rafe’s chagrin, Anna told him that he was the sole problem to your bipolar & violent tendencies. You were suffering from coke withdrawal at the height of a traumatic experience. And supplying you with more coke in an attempt to wake you up only made it worse. Then when he took it away yet again, your behavioral symptoms adapted to the change in a violent way.

            So, it was her duty to get you back to a clean & safe mind. But you would fight her. Not even consciously. Anna had told Rafe that it was as if your own mind wouldn’t allow you to come back, to live with what you had done. But Rafe wouldn’t have it. He would have you back whether you wanted to be there or not.

            While Anna tended to you the next couple weeks, Rafe focused on the way of life at the mill. Shortly after Anna took over his role for caring of you, there had been a meaningful event. People.

            There was five of them who appeared, claiming to have thought the building abandoned & that didn’t want any trouble. But Rafe didn’t see trouble, he saw power. More people to keep under his thumb. After all, he knew how dangerous he could be, how lethal—he could only imagine who else out in the world was like him. And with survival being key in this world, the more bodies he had the better, virus be damned.

            Anna cleared four of them to assimilate to the group. The one she didn’t clear showed symptoms of the virus & was effectively removed. Permanently. The remaining four did not put up a fight to protect the one, a sign they would be easy to maintain. After the removal of fifth body, the four—Vic, Maddy, Barry, & Enzo—were quarantined on the third floor of the building for a week before they were allowed to begin pulling their weight. And much to Rafe’s delight, they followed directions well & meshed well with the others. Rafe could see the world falling together perfectly before him.

            On the fourth week at the mill, Anna came to Rafe with news. Good news. You were awake. Alert like he wanted. He immediately wanted to see it for himself, to hear your voice, to have him alone time with you, but Anna was quick to squash it.

            “Her mind is still fragile, Rafe.” She told him firmly, stopping him from heading to the second floor to see you, “You may trigger her. And then all that progress will be lost & I can’t guarantee getting her back again after that.”

            Rafe was frustrated. Since when had you been fragile? You were always a force to be reckoned with. You were loud, bold, a dominating personality, a lot like him. It was what always drew him to you in that first year of college. And it was why he loathed your relationship with Sayyed even more. He always thought the two of you would be a short fling, but soon that fling turned into a relationship, into meeting each other’s parents on breaks from schools to traveling with each other during the summer, always returning back to school closer than ever. He had been angry, but he knew his time would come. But now that it was here & he was being told to stay away from you, Rafe thought he himself would lose his mind next.

            But, as much as he hated to, he listened to Anna, & kept his distance. For the next week, he would stand outside your room, listening as Anna spoke to you as she brought you food & updated you how life at the mill functioned. Rafe noted how she made it a point to rarely say his name, if ever. It bothered him to no end, but he wouldn’t risk losing you again.

            Rafe thought ahead then. He knew that when you were ready, truly ready, to be let out & to assimilate with the rest of them, that you would need a face you could rely on. Without speaking to Anna about it, because he didn’t need her permission, Rafe finally made his first visit to Bear. Unlike you, Bear was very aware.

            Rafe entered the room & Bear stood on business, prepared for the worst if he knew it was Rafe coming in.

            “Calm down, buddy.” Rafe scoffed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. But Bear didn’t calm down. He stood stiff & ready opposite of him.

            “Can’t imagine it’s a ton of fun in here. You’d get more food if you pulled your weight.” Rafe told him.

            “I wouldn’t help you if my life depended on it.” Bear seethed, “You should’ve just killed me.”

            Rafe agreed. He should’ve. But Bear was his only leverage against you. As much as he hated it, Rafe needed Bear to keep you in line, otherwise you’d be as against him as you had the first time the group split.

            “As much as I’d enjoy that,” Rafe started, glaring at Bear, “you’re much more useful alive.”

            “Like I said—”

            “Like I’m saying.” Rafe cut him off, “If you & _____ want to live, you’ll work with me, not against me.”

            Bear softened at that, “Where is she?”

            “She’s fine.” Bear didn’t need to know the whole truth, Rafe decided, “But she does need a friend. And it seems you’re the only one she has here until she makes more.”

            Bear shook his head, “You know that’ll never happen after what you did.”

            “I wouldn’t say that.” Rafe warned, “That’ll make you both disposable. I know you don’t care about dying, but you care about her dying. You go down, she goes down with you.”

            Bear quieted at that, angry but quiet.

            “So, you ready to come out & play nice?”

            Bear glowered, weighing his options, but even he knew he had little to no change against Rafe & the others. If Bear was going to be there for you, he needed to play along. For now.

            The first time Rafe saw you was in the courtyard garden. It wasn’t a garden to begin with, but Maddy with her green thumb, managed to turn it into one. He saw you through the windows, on your knees before the metal watering bed, your hands covered in soil as you helped the new girl plant more seeds. It took everything in him to not go out there & gather you in his arms, to run his hands through your hair, to press his chest to yours. His mouth watered at having you to himself again.

            Anna joined him at the window, staring out at you, “She’s almost ready. I want her to acclimate to roles here before she sees you again.”

            “How long?” He fumed, his nostrils flared as images of you flooded his mind. You were so close, yet so far.

            “A day or two.” Anna shrugged, “I’m not a psychologist. I do nurse shit. But better safe than sorry.”

            Rafe’s spine stiffened & relaxed at the same time. It was bittersweet. A day or two more wasn’t really all that long, but in this world, it felt like ages. He would have to make do.

            And he did, but he would often keep you in sight. In the mess hall—the spacious room—he would watch you sit with the others on pallets & ate silently alongside them while they all talked amongst themselves. Bear was there, too. But he wasn’t as sociable with the others, though he did keep near you. Rafe would have to keep an eye on that. As much as he thought having Bear would help you adapt, he also worried about it also influencing you.

            Rafe did well to keep himself distracted until the last two days passed before he saw you face-to-face again. On the day before he would see you, he approached Micah in the gravel lot outside the mill. Micah was in charge of scavenging. He, Matt, & Robbie, were gone long & often as they cleared surrounding smaller towns of goods & necessities.

            “Micah.” Rafe hollered when he went outside, seeing Micah standing in the bed of his truck as he passed off crates to Matt & Robbie.

            Micah nodded at him, telling the other two to take over as he hopped over the side of the truck before walking towards Rafe, “What’s up?”

            “_____ is out.” Micah’s demeanor changed in an instance at the sound of your name. It was no secret that Micah loathed you, wished you dead. Honestly, Rafe thought it pathetic. He knew it wasn’t your fault that Millie died, but he needed Micah angry, needed him ready to point & shoot at whoever Rafe told him to. If blaming you for his girlfriend’s death is what kept that anger alive, that’s all that mattered. But he also needed to remind Micah of one thing.

            “You go nowhere near her.” Rafe stared hard at his longest & oldest friend from college.

            Micah’s nose crinkled with distaste, his own eyes darkening.

            “I mean it.” Rafe stepped closer to him, his voice firm but filled with warning, “I see you even look at her wrong, & you won’t have a place here anymore.”

            Micah’s nostrils flared, “You’re gonna pick her over me?”

            “I’d like to keep you both.” Rafe smirked but it wasn’t friendly, “So, don’t make me choose. Understand?”

            Micah shook his head in disbelief, “And if she comes at me?”

            “She won’t. You know she won’t. And if she does, I’ll take care of it.” Rafe shrugged.

            “Your dick isn’t some magical stick, ya know.”

            “Watch it.” Rafe lowered his voice, “Just stay away from her. Do your job. Got it?”

            Inhaling sharply, Micah shook his head once, “You’re the boss.”

            Rafe gave a closed-lip smile at that, gripping Micah’s shoulder, “That’s right.”

            It was time.

            Rafe woke early & dressed quickly. He looked around his functionable room, reminding himself to get one of the guys to tidy it up. After all, it would very soon become your room. But he would get to that later. What he needed to get to now was you.

            As if she knew Rafe would be gunning for you, Anna was waiting outside your room, having just brought you your breakfast for the day. Rafe didn’t slow down though as he saw Anna give him a concerned look.

            “Rafe.”

            “What?” He snapped.

            “Are you sure?” She questioned.

            “Am I sure about what?” Anna’s eyes flashed to the door to your room. Rafe rolled his eyes, “You said two days, it’s been two fucking days.”

            “I just don’t want you to regret it.”

            Anna was funny to him. She was always the tough girl, took no shit & gave it back ten times more. But it was amusing how the end of the world quickly turned her into a pawn. Rafe knew her tough exterior was just that, an exterior. She was as easy to control as the others.

            “It’s not your job to worry.” Rafe told her sardonically.

            Anna crossed her arms at that, “Then why is it always me cleaning up your messes?”

            Rafe licked his teeth, smiling down at her, “You got a problem, Anna?”

            She sniffled, straightening her spine, the tough exterior coming out, “No. Just don’t want you to lose focus because of her.”

            “Like I said.” Rafe repeated, “Don’t worry about it.”

            It was clear she wanted to say more but didn’t, just stiffly nodded.

            Rafe was eager to enter your room, but just as he placed his hand on the knob, he paused, turning once more to Anna, “Get your man to clean up my room. Then relax. You can take the day off.”

            “He’s not my man.” Anna gritted out. Though she was a sexually open woman, she refused to admit being tied down to a man. But her & Matt had been screwing ever since the two men joined their group nearly three months.

            “Just get him. And quit being stubborn.” Rafe’s smile dropped, shifting his face to one of impatience.

            “Whatever.” With that, Anna stomped away.

            Rafe was finally alone. Mostly. After all, you were just a door slab & a few feet away from him. Rafe’s heartbeat erratically within his chest. He had been waiting much too long for this.

            Twisting the knob, the door moaned quietly as it cracked open. And Rafe stepped inside.

okay, so hey! glad to be back after a great vacay & a sickly recovery lmao. that being said, it is a shorter chapter to kind of summarize the way of life 3-4 weeks later. i also wanted to change it up & kind of tell the story from rafe's POV to give reader a break. but next chapter will be from reader's POV.

as always, please share your thoughts via comments, reblogs w reviews, talking to me in the ask box. i am greatly deprived since i have been gone. teehee.

thank you for reading!

beau<3

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[whorekneecentral]

max baby fever is real actually… enemies to lovers hatefucking but you guys eventually become fwb and then BOOM suddenly youre married but the sexual tension never leaves and then you have a tiny baby lion

- 🐣

it’s the baby lion for me 🥺

working for red bull was no easy task. especially the weekend after weekend of scrutiny. surely, people had their reasons but its still a pain in the ass. 

you were a press officer for the team, you covered the general press handlings; approving press releases, statements, team appearances etc. but recently, you were stuck working with max as his old press officer was on maternity leave. 

max was the biggest pain in your side, you don’t think you’ve ever worked with a driver that was so irritating. 

over the course of the season, things got better. max sort of mellowed out and only became a little tense during the last race. it was down to the wire between here and lewis as to who was going to win the championship.

the was exactly what the team had been looking for and the celebration was beyond anything you could imagine. the drinks were following and one by one, the cans stacked up. 

you and max some how ended up in the same elevator after everything, the two of you had too many drinks and ended up all over each other. stumbling back to the room, hands all over each other and clothes all over the floor and you two spent the rest of the night in bed together. 

from that night, it spiralled into more. you and max ended up going back and forth over the break, sneaking around together for a bit before the season started. 

you two continued through the racing season; longing looks, hidden kisses and touches, the extra long hugs when he wins. 

at some point after the summer break, his press officer returns from maternity leave, and you go back to your regular duties, which means now you can announce that you're dating without there being a conflict of interest.

the dates were like no other, how many women can say they get to travel the world with the person they love and go on dates around the world every other weekend? 

you and max were in brazil this weekend, the season to last race when he rolled over in bed. “hey,” he whispers and you look over at him. 

you were doing some work in bed, max was settling in for the night. he rested a little velvet box on your laptop and you looked at him, confused. “what's this?” 

“open it.” he tells you, so you do. inside is a ring, a fat emerald cut diamond set on a slightly thick gold band. 

“max,” you look over at him and he smiles. “I know you didn’t want a big proposal but I can still get on my knees if you want.”

you shook your head but he pulls the ring out, reaching for your hand. “will you marry me?” 

“yeah,” you giggled, you can feel the tears when you lean over to kiss him, the cold band pressed to his cheek once it was on your finger. 

your laptop and max going to sleep was long forgotten. a tangle of limbs, clothes all over the floor, the blankets were kicked to the end of the bed. 

“I cannot wait to marry you,” he whispers to you, your legs wrapped around his waist. “might be the wrong time but just letting you know I'm keeping my last name.” 

your wedding was nothing if not picture perfect, as was your honeymoon. 

you two had a week to yourselves, a little villa on the amalfi coast. max was determined that you two would be starting your family sooner than later and that’s exactly was he was up too. 

“gonna put a baby in you, pretty girl.” 

“that’s my girl, take it so well. made just for me.” 

“look so pretty full of me.” 

and surely enough, about 3 months post honeymoon and you found out you were having a baby. you were both beyond ecstatic. 

max was more into the baby planning, nursery thing that you were so you let him take charge. 

turns out the little boy was getting a jungle themed nursery and in the centre of the mural painted on the wall was a lion, the king of the jungle. 

the months roll by and now you’ve got your own little lion, most weekends it killed max to be away from you two but the little one was too little to travel so many miles, though you two did go to the monaco gp to surprise him. 

most nights when he came in, he changed off and went straight to check on the little man, you got booted to second place. 

more often than not, you find max sleeping in the rocking chair with your baby boy in his arms. 

[grayhyacinth]

Hey! Can I request a Dipper x reader where reader was actually with Ford in the portal. Like four years before the portal is reopened Ford finds this little girl in a dimension where nothing exists it's just a white void. No time passes, your body doesn't age, just nothing. He found her took her out and she basically became his apprentice. When the portal is reopened Ford isn't quite sure what it is so he tells her not to follow him and he'll check it out. She goes in anyways but ends but coming out of the portal in the basement if the shack four years in the past. So the portal is unfinished and no one's there except Stan in the other side of the glass like "wtf??".

Stand takes in reader and she ends up spending the whole summer with the twins and gets a little crush on Dipper. When he finds the journal and is talking about the author reader doesn't tell him anything she knows because she's like "I could literally destroy the space time continuum, I'm not even suppose to exist in this world". So when Ford finally comes through Dippers like "Why didn't you tell me anything???" And now Dipper has like a bigillion questions for her about the universe.

Mostly fluff if you can!

Sorry if that's like, waaayyyyyy to much backstory and not a lot of an actual prompt but I really like your writing!🩷 Keep up the good work and take care of yourself🩷🩷

Okay so, I had like no idea how to write this. But, I hope you like my attempt! I had a lot of fun envisioning scenes between Dipper and (Y/n), especially when she steals the book. I feel like this could be better written between 3-4 chapters, but a short story is also endearing. I hope you enjoy and thank you for the request! I really appreciate your wishes and support <3!

“A… child?”

You tilt your head in curiosity. This is the first time you've encountered a creature so strikingly similar to yourself. You extend a cautious hand toward him, and then poked his cheek.

The man recoils, pushing you back with surprising force and inching away in the empty white abyss. “Wh– Who are you?!” His voice quivers with fear, but his eyes are resolute, filled with a determination that intrigues you.

You crouch low, mimicking the posture of a wary creature, wide eyes locked onto his. You give a soft, inquisitive chirp, the sound escaping your lips almost instinctively.

“What… are you doing?”

The foreign sounds coming from his mouth are almost incomprehensible to you. So instead of attempting to make sense of his speech, you focus on conveying your intent through gestures and expressions. You raises a hand, palm up, a universal gesture of peace, and then exhale as if to say, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

He seems to understand your intent. His eyes soften with relief.

You notice his body language betrays a lack of hostility. He continues to stare at you, clearly curious upon who or what you were. The cold, combined with the lack of cushioning beneath you, only adds to the sense of unease.

A low rumble interrupts the silence. The man’s stomach growls loudly, and he looks down with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness, instinctively hugging his stomach as if to silence it.

You rise unsteadily. With a slight wobble, you began walking towards him, curious as to what that sound was.

“What are you…?” He stammers again, confusion twisting in your chest. The man brushes off your curiosity, poking at his own stomach with a slight frown.

“Stop that!” He snaps, surprising even yourself. The command hangs in the air, making him pause.

For a moment, silence wraps around you both, and you study the contours of his face—strange, yet familiar. You notice the way the light catches in his hair, the softness in his expression.

“Do you want to come with me?” he asks, and the question feels heavy, filled with possibility.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at you expectantly. You tilt your head, trying to grasp the meaning behind his movements. His hands move again, sweeping wide as if to show you a world beyond the void. He points to himself, then to you, and smiles, nodding as if to say, together. You feel a flutter of intrigue, but confusion lingers in your mind.

“Somewhere that isn’t here,” he replies, a hint of a smile flickering across his lips. “Somewhere with colors, and sounds… and maybe even a bit of adventure.”

You tilt your head, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. His eyes sparkle, filled with encouragement.

You nod.

His smile widens, and he reaches out, offering his hand. You grasp it, feeling the warmth radiate between you. With a gentle tug, he leads you forward, and the void begins to shimmer. Suddenly, a portal appears and at the other end is a wide horizon of the morning sun. You smile as the warm sun rays hit your skin.

As weeks go by, the man you met introduces himself as Stanford Pines. With each passing day, the bond between you grows stronger, and the initial awkwardness fades into a comfortable routine. Stanford, or Ford as he often prefers to be called, becomes a regular presence in your life.

Ford takes it upon himself to teach you the language of his universe. He is patient and persistent, using simple phrases and gestures to help you grasp the basics. Interestingly enough, he discovers that you lack a name. So he takes it upon himself to name you (Y/n) (L/n).

Each lesson is accompanied with lively stories from his travels across the multiverse. One evening, as the two of you sit by a makeshift fire you’ve managed to start with limited resources, Ford recounts a particularly thrilling tale. His voice takes on a dramatic tone as he describes a showdown with a mischievous entity that could control time itself.

“There we were,” Ford narrates, his hands illustrating the battle in the air, “Locked in a high-stakes chess game with a creature who could manipulate time. Every move we made, every strategy we devised, was countered by the whims of this trickster’s temporal powers. It was like trying to play chess while the board kept shifting!”

You listen with rapt attention, your eyes wide as you imagine the scene he’s painting. Ford’s expressive storytelling brings the experience to life, and you can almost see the strange creature and feel the tension of the game.

As the weeks turn into months, your role evolves from a mere helper to an apprentice in Ford's eyes. Under his guidance, you learn more than just his language; you become versed in the complexities of multiversal travel, and the nuances of interdimensional physics. Ford's teachings go beyond theory; you actively participate in his missions.

It’s during these missions that you begin to understand the true gravity of Ford’s work and the dangers that accompany it. One evening, as you both rest from a particularly challenging excursion, Ford opens up a piece from his past—Bill Cipher.

“Bill Cipher is no ordinary entity,” Ford explains, his tone grave. “He’s a being of pure chaos, a demon who thrives on destruction and disorder. He’s caused havoc across countless worlds, manipulating events and people to his advantage.” He takes a deep breath, a distant look in his eyes. “You have to be careful, (Y/n).”

As the stars gave away to the rays of the morning sun in Universe 323, you awoke to the soft hum of the portal generator filling the room. The familiar sound that usually signified exploration now felt ominous. A swirling vortex of colors began to materialize, casting an eerie, pulsating glow that illuminated the room in shifting hues. The light played across Ford’s face, and the warmth and affection you had grown accustomed to were replaced with a grim frown.

Ford abruptly stood up, his usually calm demeanor replaced with an urgent seriousness that made your heart sink. He turned to you, his expression a stark contrast to the warmth you were used to. “Listen, I… It’s been fun, (Y/n).” His hands grasped your shoulders tightly, his grip firm yet filled with concern. “This portal is almost identical to the one I made back in my universe. But, it could be dangerous. You need to stay here.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, cutting you off. “No arguments. It’s too risky. I can’t afford to have you put yourself in harm’s way.”

His words were firm, yet the worry in his eyes was unmistakable. You could see how much he cared, how deeply he was troubled by the potential dangers. Despite his insistence, a stubborn resolve settled within you. You had faced countless challenges together, and the thought of being left behind while he ventured into potential danger was unbearable.

“No way, Ford,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “I’m not staying here. Whatever it is, whatever dangers lie ahead, I’m coming with you.”

Ford’s eyes widened in frustration and disbelief. “(Y/n), this isn’t a game. You don’t understand—”

“But I do understand,” you interrupted, stepping closer, your determination unwavering. “I understand that we’re a team. I’ve been with you through thick and thin, and I’m not going to let you face whatever’s out there alone.”

Ford takes a deep breath, and then he steps closer to the portal, the light reflecting off his face in strange, mesmerizing patterns. “Stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He runs head first into the portal, leaving you behind.

You watch with horror as he steps forward, his silhouette dissolving into the swirling portal. The vortex’s colors shift and warp, pulling him into its depths. As the portal’s edge begins to close, you make a split-second decision.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you dart toward the portal. You hesitate only briefly, watching as the portal’s edges start to shrink. You can’t bear the thought of being left behind while Ford faces unknown dangers alone. Summoning every ounce of courage, you leap forward just as the portal starts to close.

In a rush of cold air and blinding light, you are pulled into the vortex. The world around you blurs into a whirl of colors and sensations. The portal swirls and twists, the reality bending and folding as you travel through the fabric of dimensions.

Suddenly, you find yourself stumbling onto solid ground, the portal closing behind you with a final, shimmering snap. You look around, disoriented.

As you regain your bearings, you find yourself in a basement. The room is dimly lit, with a musty smell of old wood and a clutter of odd contraptions. You glance around, trying to make sense of your surroundings. The walls are bare, and the floor is covered with intricate wires that lead to a fallen portal. A large glass-paneled door catches your eye, covered in grime but revealing a faint outline of movement on the other side.

You hear a muffled voice and a rustling sound from beyond the glass. Curiosity piqued, you move closer, wiping some of the dust away to get a better view. As the glass clears, you see a young man in his late teens on the other side, his face a picture of bewilderment and curiosity. He looks familiar, almost like… Ford?

“What the—?” The identical twin’s voice is muffled but clear, full of confusion. “Who are you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. This is a significant moment, and you can’t quite believe your situation. His gaze is locked on you, and he looks ready to bolt.

You raise your hands in a gesture of peace, trying to convey that you mean no harm. “I’m—”

“Hold on, who are you and where’s Poindexter?!” Stanley interrupts, his eyes darting around.

You hesitate, trying to figure out the best way to explain your presence. “Uh… Hi,” you begin, raising your hands in a calming gesture. “My name is (Y/n) (L/n), and I came in through that… portal.” You glance behind you and point to the triangle contraption.

He blinks, his confusion deepening as he studies the portal and then looks back at you. “No. That doesn’t make sense. I just… flicked a switch and my brother was suppose to come through. Not some… child?!”

You glance at the chaotic mess of wires and blinking lights surrounding the portal, noting the flaws that must have caused this unexpected shift in reality. “I think something went wrong,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Stanley’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean, ‘something went wrong’? You don’t even know what you’re doing here!” His tone is sharper, but beneath the surface, you can sense a flicker of worry.

You take a cautious step forward, keeping your hands raised to ease the tension. “I just… came through. I didn’t choose this.” You point back at the portal again, hoping he’ll see that you’re just as confused as he is. “I’m not… him, but maybe I’m connected to him somehow. I can help you figure this out.”

The identical twin’s skepticism is evident, but curiosity seems to win out. “Alright, let’s say I believe you’re not here to cause trouble. How are you going to help me?”

You take a deep breath, carefully choosing your words. “The portal, as you can see, is unstable. I need to fix it and recalibrate it so I can get back to where I came from. But to do that, I need some tools and parts—and a place to stay for the time being…”

You spot a familiar journal with six fingers and decide to use it to your advantage. ”That journal over there, for example—it looks like it could be significant.”

His eyes follow your gaze, and he approaches the journal with caution. “That’s my brother’s old journal. He’s got a bunch of weird notes and sketches in there.”

As he opens the journal, you can see the pages filled with cryptic notes and strange symbols. Your heart races, but you maintain your composure. This is your chance to gather information and possibly find a way back to your own time.

“Well,” He mumbles, “I guess I can show you around and see if we can find what you’re looking for. But remember, if you’re here on some wild goose chase, you’re going to have to explain yourself.”

You nod, relieved to have gained his trust, at least for now. “I understand. Thank you for your help.”

Four years have flown by in the blink of an eye. You’re now twelve years old, teetering on the brink of adolescence, and life at the Mystery Shack has become a second home. The young man who once introduced himself as Stanley Pines has taken on the identity of Stanford Pines—his brother’s name. Though you still call him Stanford, you’ve grown to understand the complexities of his dual life. Ford, the man you originally met, is still trapped somewhere in the multiverse, but you’re confident that your understanding of his research will eventually lead you to him.

The summer sun casts a warm glow over the Mystery Shack, and the air is filled with the usual hum of activity. You’re busy organizing some of the newer additions to the shop’s odd collection when the sound of laughter and excited voices reaches your ears. You look up and see a young boy and girl standing at the entrance, their faces lit with curiosity and excitement.

Stanford had an arm wrapped around each of their shoulders. “(Y/n)! I’d like for you to meet my great niece and nephew”

The young girl, with her bright purple sweater and an exuberant smile, bounces on her toes. “Hi! I’m Mabel, and this is my brother, Dipper. We’re here for the summer!”

The boy, slightly more reserved but with an inquisitive gaze, gives a polite nod. “I’m Dipper. We heard a lot about this place and thought we’d check it out.”

You watch from a distance, noting the genuine curiosity in their eyes. Mabel’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Dipper’s serious demeanor suggests a keen interest in the mysteries of the Shack.

Stanford’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Well, you’ve come to the right place! The Shack is full of oddities and secrets. How about a tour?”

As Stanford leads them around, you decide to introduce yourself, keen to make a good impression. You approach with a friendly wave. “Hi there! I’m (Y/n). I help out around here.”

Mabel’s eyes widened with interest. “Nice to meet you, (Y/n)! What’s your favorite part of the Shack?”

You think for a moment, remembering all the strange moments. “It’s hard to pick just one thing. But I’d say the most interesting part was the time Stanford tried to use a gadget from a TV ad to make his hair grow back? Let’s just say it ended up giving him a ‘special’ new look—like he was auditioning for a role in a Bigfoot documentary!”

Dipper chuckles lightly, his  eyes wide with curiosity. “What did you look like?”

You laugh, trying to contain your amusement. “Let’s just say, for a while there, Stanford had enough hair to start his own wig-making business. It was like someone mixed a Sasquatch with a tumbleweed.”

Stanford, catching your comment, coughs awkwardly and blushes slightly. He quickly grabs Mabel and Dipper by their shoulders and steers them out of the gift shop and through the door leading into the main part of the house. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, let’s get back to showing you the real wonders of the Shack.”

As he leads the twins away, Stanford turns back towards you and shoots you a look, his two fingers making a playful pointing gesture. “And remember, no more jokes unless you want to end up as the next mess cleanup crew.”

Just like that, the entertaining summer began. You never thought you’d get attach to these people, but, it seems like they were slowly wiggling their way into your heart. It was then, during one lazy afternoon at the Mystery Shack, with the sun streaming through the windows, casting warm, golden rays across the cozy living room. Stanford was busy showing off some new exhibits to illicit cash from naive tourists, and Mabel had disappeared into one of her craft projects, leaving you and Dipper to your own activities.

You were lounging on the old, well-worn couch, flipping through a magazine. Dipper, on the other hand, was on the floor, surrounded by a mountain of books and notes. He had a stack of papers in front of him.

“Hey, Dipper,” you said softly, setting the magazine aside and stretching your arms above your head. “You look like you’re about to solve the mysteries of the universe over there.”

After a while, Dipper looked up and noticed you watching him. He sighed, rubbing his eyes before speaking. “Yeah, I might be trying to do just that. Do you think you could help me out with something? I’m trying to figure out this ancient code, and I could use a second set of eyes.”

You smiled and joined him on the floor, settling beside him. As you turned your attention to the sprawled-out notes and journal, you couldn’t help but notice the dark bags under his eyes and the ink stains on the side of his hand. “Rough night?”

Dipper gave a sheepish grin. “You could say that. I’ve been at this for hours…”

You glanced at the ancient code, then at Dipper. “ Is this important enough to look like a zombie? I’m starting to think the real mystery is how you manage to stay awake with those bags under your eyes.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Okay, okay, I get it! Maybe I should take a break… but only if you help me crack this code first!”

As you both leaned over the papers, you felt Dipper’s soft hair gently brush against your head. The scent of pine trees filled your senses. It was a subtle, intimate moment, and you couldn’t help but feel a warm flutter in your chest.

Dipper, oblivious to the effect he was having, was intently focused on the notes. He occasionally mumbled to himself, his brow furrowed in concentration. “If we align these symbols with the constellation map from the journal...”

You glanced at the stack of papers and noticed one of the journals—Journal 3. The sight made you freeze momentarily, as you recognized it from the work you had been doing to repair the portal. You realized that Dipper was working on a section related to the portal.

A sinking feeling washed over you. If you helped him decode the ancient symbols, it could potentially disrupt the space-time continuum, especially since you technically weren’t supposed to exist or intervene in this timeline.

You blink.

Suddenly struck with the idea that perhaps he could use a break to clear his mind. “Hey, Dipper,” you said softly, nudging him out of his intense focus. “We’ve been at this for a while. How about we take a break and do something fun? You know, just to clear our heads?”

Dipper looked up, surprised but visibly relieved. “A break? I guess that sounds like a good idea. I could use a breather.”

You smiled, feeling a bit adventurous. “Great! I was thinking we could go grab some ice cream. It’s a beautiful day outside, and I think it’d be nice to get some fresh air.”

Dipper’s eyes brightened, and he quickly started to gather up the notes and close the journal. “Umm.. okay. Ice cream sounds awesome.”

The walk to the nearby ice cream stand was filled with easy conversation and laughter. The sun-kissed air and the lively chatter of the small town around you created a relaxed, almost date-like atmosphere.

“I can’t resist,” you said, grinning. “I’m getting the triple scoop sundae.”

Dipper chuckled, his usual enthusiasm for adventure replaced with a casual ease. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll just get a cone. Can’t go wrong with classic vanilla.”

You waited while the vendor scooped your sundae, and then you both settled on a nearby bench. You took a bite of your ice cream, letting the rich, cold flavor melt on your tongue.

“Want a taste?” you asked, holding out the spoon to Dipper, who was licking his cone with a satisfied smile.

He hesitated, looking at the spoon as if it were some kind of test. “Uh, sure. I guess I could try some.”

You watched as he nervously leaned closer, his cheeks turning a shade of pink that matched the evening sky. He took a tiny lick, his eyes widening slightly at the burst of flavor.

“Not bad,” he admitted. A hint of pink highlights his cheeks.

A playful idea crossed your mind. You grinned, extending the spoon further toward him. “How about you give it a proper taste?”

Dipper’s face turned even redder in surprise and embarrassment. “You want me to…?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You nodded, trying to suppress a giggle. “Yeah, go ahead. It’s just ice cream.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the spoon, then back up to you. With a shy but determined look, he finally leaned in and gently took the spoon into his mouth. His lips brushed against the spoon, and you noticed the way his eyes fluttered shut for a split second, savoring the taste.

As he pulled back, he looked up at you, his nervous expression seeming a bit more relaxed in relief. “That’s actually really good,” he said, managing a small, shy smile.

You chuckled, the playful moment filling you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. But as you watched him, something else bubbled up inside you. It wasn’t just the sweetness of the ice cream that made your heart race—it was the way Dipper had looked at you.

Realization dawned on you. The way he smiled, the blush on his cheeks, and the way he seemed so genuine and kind—it all made you feel something deeper than just friendship. You liked him. Maybe more than just a little.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the flutter in your chest. “I’m glad you liked it,” you said softly, trying to sound nonchalant.

Dipper’s eyes met yours, and for a brief, electric moment, it felt like you were both on the edge of something new and exciting. “Thanks for sharing,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

This little moment shared between the two of you, became something you cherished deeply. Every time you hung out with Dipper, after this, you’d find ways to spend more time with him. Even as he began to idolize a special author close to his heart.

A couple weeks later, the Mystery Shack was quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that made every creak and rustle seem louder than it really was. Dipper was in the backyard, engrossed in a game with Mabel and Waddles. You, however, had a different plan in mind.

You’d noticed Dipper’s Journal 3 resting on the coffee table in the living room earlier—a tantalizing opportunity to steal it for yourself. You were almost done. You were so close to reuniting Stanford and Stanley, hopefully even introducing Stanford to Dipper. You just needed this last book.

Moving quietly, you crept towards the table, careful not to make a sound. Your heart raced with excitement as you reached out and gently lifted the journal. It was heavier than you expected, filled with the weight of countless adventures and Dipper’s personal notes.

Just as you were about to retreat with your prize, you heard a faint rustle. Dipper’s head poked through the open window, his eyes scanning the room. You froze, hiding the journal behind your back and holding your breath.

Dipper’s gaze landed on the coffee table, then slowly shifted around the room. “Hey, have you seen my journal? I could have sworn I left it here…”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “I haven’t seen it. Maybe you left it upstairs with the other stuff?”

Dipper looked skeptical but nodded, stepping inside.in that split second, you knew you had to act. You shuffled to the couch, tucking the journal away behind the cushions.

The moment he entered the room. His eyes wandered around the room, coming closer to where you were standing. You shifted slightly, trying to stay out of his line of sight. Every step he took, closer to you, you’d shuffle away. Your hands were tucked suspiciously behind you.

Your movements were far from graceful, and the effort made you giggle.

Dipper eyed you cautiously. “What’s so funny?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You tried to maintain your composure, but your voice wavered. “Nothing, nothing,” you managed to say, your smile widening despite your best efforts.

Dipper tilted his head in curiosity. “I’m going to find it,” he declared with a playful smirk, taking a few steps closer. The soft glow of the room’s light cast a warm hue on his cheeks, making his blush even more endearing.

Suddenly, he reached behind you, and you felt his fingers brush against yours as he grabbed your empty hands. The touch was brief but electric, sending a shiver up your spine. In the sudden motion, you stumbled, causing Dipper to lose his balance.

He tripped over your feet and went crashing to the ground, landing on top of you with a surprised yelp.

As you lay there, with Dipper on top of you, the room seemed to swirl around in a hazy mix of laughter and warmth. Dipper’s surprised yelp melted into an awkward chuckle, and his cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. You found yourself caught between bursts of laughter and the sweet fluttering in your chest.

Dipper tried to push himself up, but his hands were still resting on your sides, and every movement only further tangled up your limbs together. His face was inches from yours, and you could see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, as well as the genuine concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, your laughter subsiding into a gentle smile. “I’m fine. Are you?” you teased.

He met your gaze, his eyes lingering on yours. There was a moment of silence, a suspended breath where the world outside seemed to pause. “Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, his tone laced with an affectionate warmth. “Hey, (Y/n)—”

The sound of voices and clumsy footsteps grew louder. Suddenly, Mabel and Waddles burst into the room, their energy a stark contrast to the cozy moment you had just shared.

“Dipper, Dipper!” Mabel called out excitedly. “Waddles and I are ready for the next round of our game! We need you out here!”

Waddles squealed happily, adding to the commotion. Dipper glanced at you, reluctance in his eyes. “Looks like I’m being summoned,” he said, chuckling as Mabel and Waddles dragged him towards the door.

“Don’t be long!” Mabel called over her shoulder, already heading back outside with Waddles trotting beside her. “We’ve got a big adventure planned!”

Dipper gave you a final, playful smile before being pulled out into the backyard. As the door closed behind them, you were left alone in the quiet room once more.

You took a deep breath, savoring the peaceful moment. It was go time. With the coast clear, you hurriedly moved back to the couch where you had hidden the journal. Your heart raced as you reached under the cushion and retrieved the book,

Carefully, you made your way to the basement, cradling the journal close. The soft thud of your footsteps was the only sound as you entered your sanctuary. With a mixture of triumph and nervous excitement, you placed the journal on your desk, feeling a surge of satisfaction.

Settling into your chair, you opened the journal, ready to dive into its pages. The room was quiet, the only light coming from the soft glow of your lamp. As you began to read, you felt a sense of contentment and anticipation. You were close, so close.

The room's tranquility was abruptly shattered by the sound of loud, frantic yelling coming from upstairs. You jumped, the journal nearly slipping from your grasp. Before you could process what was happening, Stanley burst into the room, his face pale and drawn, breath ragged as if he'd been running for miles.

"(Y/n)!" he shouted, his voice urgent and tinged with panic. "Kid, look. I need you to hurry up. They’re here."

Confusion flashed across your face as you looked up at him. "Who’s here?" you asked, your heart racing at the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Grunkle Stan, usually so composed and gruff, now looked anything but. He clumsily raised his hands in the air, waving them wildly as if trying to shoo away an invisible threat. "The government! We’ve got to move fast if we want to bring back Poindexter!"

Your mind whirled, struggling to catch up with the gravity of the situation. You nodded grimly, setting the journal down on your desk with a quick, deliberate motion. "Okay, alright. Fine."

You began to scribble hurriedly onto a separate note, crunching the numbers and double-checking every task to make sure it all aligned. Stan had already dashed back upstairs, possibly to help stall for time before any raids happened.

Time passed quickly, and you found yourself pacing back and forth among cables and wires, blackboards covered in equations, and strewn papers scattered everywhere, scrambling to find your missing pencils. The numbers weren’t adding up; something was missing. You sprinted back to the battery that powered the portal. Attached to it was a large generator, and you tapped against the glass of the fuel gauge. The little pointer trembled up and then dropped down again, and a sinking feeling settled into the pit of your stomach.

Once again, the sounds of heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs. “How’s it going in here? Are we ready to go?” Stan called out, his voice slightly out of breath. He seemed to have tucked the twins into bed and was prepared to finish this.

You turned around, giving him one long, grave look. “Yeah…” You swallowed thickly. “But we only have one shot at this.”

“Of course we do. With the government knocking at our front door, we need to do this right.” Stan waved a dismissive hand, seemingly unaware of your trembling fingers. He walked toward the monitors and desk, pulling out the swivel chair and sitting down with a huff. He began flicking everything on.

The sounds of beeping and swirling energy filled the room. The light blue hue from the portal illuminated everything, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. Suddenly, gravity shifted, and objects began to float slowly upward. The floor shook beneath you, a deep rumble vibrating through the air.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You and Stan walked toward the portal, standing directly under the imposing structure. You glanced at him. “Are you ready to bring your brother back home?”

He met your gaze, a grin spreading across his face. “Absolutely! Are you ready to go home?”

You hesitated, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “I…”

Suddenly, Dipper and Mabel appeared behind you, their voices raised in alarm. “Stop! You have to explain what’s going on!” Mabel shouted, her eyes wide with concern, while Dipper looked equally frantic.

You turned, caught off guard. “Guys, we’re trying to save—”

“Save who?” Dipper interjected, stepping forward. “What’s happening?”

Stan interjected, urgency ringing in his voice. “Listen, kids. I’m sorry for not telling you this sooner—”

Just then, the portal began to tremble violently, and suddenly, you all felt yourselves lifting off the ground, floating upward toward the ceiling. It was almost time.

“Mabel! Stop the portal!” Dipper yelled at his sister, scrambling to reach something secure on the floor.

Mabel was gripping your hand for dear life, her eyes wide with fear, while you clutched onto the edge of the desk, trying to steady yourself amidst the chaos. “What do I do?!” she shouted, her voice strained against the growing hum of the portal.

“Press the red button!”

You and Stan both shouted in unison. “No! Mabel, please!”

Mabel’s eyes darted between the portal and the control panel, uncertainty flooding her face. “But —”

“Kids, look!” Stan’s voice was laced with desperation, the lines of age etched deeper into his features. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you some things in the past. I tried to tell you guys! But I just couldn’t.” His lips trembled as he continued, “I’ll tell you everything once all of this is over. Just please trust me!”

“Don’t listen to him!” Dipper urged, his voice rising above the chaotic hum of the portal. “We can’t lose this chance!”

“Dipper! Please!” You turned your attention to him, feeling your heart race. “I know that Stan and I seem suspicious right now, but you have to understand—we have to do this!”

Dipper shook his head, frustration mingling with concern. “Shut up!” He huffs out. “We can’t blindly trust you or Stan after everything!”

Mabel looked between you and Dipper, her expression filled with uncertainty. “What do I do, Dipper?”

You look at her, and say, “You know us, Mabel. You can trust us!”

“It’s like I don’t even know you guys anymore! Who even are you, Grunkle Stan… and you…” Mabel’s voice trembled as she looked at you, tears brimming in her eyes. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “I trusted you, (Y/n).”

You glanced at Dipper, and even he had tears streaming down his face. He looked at you as if you were a foreign enemy, and your heart sank under the weight of his feelings.

The seconds ticked down, and Mabel’s hesitation cost her the chance to press the glowing red button. Suddenly, gravity returned with a jolt, and you all crashed to the floor, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs.

As you tried to gather your thoughts, a man stepped out of the blue portal. He was imposing, holding a gun in one hand, dressed in a heavy trench coat that billowed slightly with the portal’s energy. A set of dark glasses sat high upon his nose, obscuring his eyes, but the air of authority around him was intimidating.

You could recognize him anywhere. Stan beat you to it, rushing forward and knocking you aside as he enveloped his brother, Stanford, in a fierce hug. “Ford! You’re back!” he exclaimed, relief washing over him.

But Ford, clearly not in the mood for celebrations, slapped Stan’s face away and yelled, “What were you thinking, Stan? Activating the portal like that could endanger all of humanity!”

While the brothers engaged in a heated argument, you stumbled to your feet and stepped forward, your heart racing at the sight of the man who had taught you so much. “Ford!” you called out, trying to break through the tension.

He turned, his expression softening slightly as he saw you. “(Y/n)!” Ford said, his voice a mix of surprise and warmth. “I’m glad to see you, but this isn’t the time—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened. “But we need your help. The government is here, and they want to take us in. We were trying to bring you back safely, but now it’s all gone sideways!”

The twins follow behind you, Dipper brushes against your arm, but his gaze is on the the identical twin of who he thought was Stanford Pines. “Who… are you?”

“Ford!” Stan rushes over and squeezes the kids by their shoulders. “These two are our great niece and nephews! Meet Dipper and Mabel.”

The twins followed closely behind you, and as you moved, Dipper brushed against your arm. His gaze was fixed on the man standing before them, who looked strikingly like the Stanford they had come to know. “Who… are you?” he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“Ford!” Stan rushed over, squeezing the kids by their shoulders with a grin. “These two are our great niece and nephew! Meet Dipper and Mabel.”

The real Ford raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to absorb the introduction. “Kids…?” He raises an arm out to shake hands with them.

Mabel, her initial shock wearing off, smiled brightly. She shakes hands first. “You look just like Grunkle Stan! But way cooler!” She giggled, her infectious energy breaking some of the tension.

Dipper reaches out, still skeptical. “What’s going on here?” He then glances down at his fingers and notices that there’s six of them. “You’re… the author?! No way!”

You giggle, pleased by his surprise reaction. “Stanford was my mentor in the past. I knew you’d be excited to see him.”

Dipper looks at you, then Stanford and then back to you. “I totally do not trust you at all anymore. But I have so many questions I want to ask!”

Your heart sank at Dipper's words, the weight of his distrust settling heavily in your chest. You’d worked hard to earn his trust, and now it felt like it was slipping away. “I understand,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted to help.”

His expression softening slightly. “Okay, I’m willing to get to know you again. But promise me, no more secrets? You also have to answer all the questions I have!”

Your heart lifted a little at his willingness to try again. “I’d be happy to share,” you said, grateful for the opportunity. You reached out to grab his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

As you all moved forward, Dipper turned to you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “So, first question: Did the crush you have on me fake, or real?”

You blink. “My… what?!”

[kirschteinoir]

[5] you're here, that's the thing.

post-timeskip osamu miya x reader.

❝he brought his other hand, not yet blessed by you, to cover his eyes as he waited for his cheeks to cool and his heartbeat to become steady again.

this was going to be a long summer.❞

when life in the city becomes overwhelming, your grandmother decides to sign you up for a summer in the countryside working at onigiri miya, the best onigiri place this side of hyogo! you're not the biggest fan of the early starts and long hot days at first, but your attractive new boss may change your mind...

wc; 5.4k

[ending things with a bang (or a kiss in this case)! also i have no idea how sports commentary works so my bad if it's inaccurate. cameos from literally all the hq characters who went pro + kuroo lmao]

chapter masterlist.

𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙁𝙄𝙑𝙀. 𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 - 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙣.

for the last two weeks, you and osamu had been avidly watching the olympics - especially the men’s volleyball events. after the revelation in july had thrown you off your feet, osamu had steadied your uneasy world by filling you in with everything you’d missed since you’d left him and atsumu behind all those summers ago. unbeknownst to him, it was a comfort to you to know that he’d grown up well and that his relationship with atsumu had remained relatively the same since your childhood. you were happily surprised when osamu had told you that he’d played on his high school volleyball team as an outside hitter, with atsumu as the setter.

onigiri miya became overwhelmingly busy during this time too. you found yourself lost in the sounds of the sports commentary and the chatter of the customers as they chowed down on osamu’s revered rice masterpieces. as they tried to spark a conversation with the boss, he would don his signature lazy smirk and make a dig at atsumu. even with the jokes, you knew osamu couldn’t be prouder of his brother and you always smiled to yourself when you saw how animated he became whenever he talked about ‘tsumu making it to the national team.

the sun still blazed above you even at eight in the evening and you wince in discomfort, sweeping the sweat from the base of your neck with a napkin and trying your best to focus on counting the change in the register. you didn’t see osamu steal glances at you as he mopped the floor, almost breaking the handle in two as he tightened his grip on it. you were oblivious to how he would swallow thickly and tilt his cap to hide you from his view, cheeks taking on a rosy hue.

on the day of the japan vs argentina game, you’d opened shop an hour early. even then, there was a small crowd of people waiting outside as you’d rocked up to work. you greeted them with a smile of gratuity, promising them that they would be able to escape the morning heat soon.

osamu was there even earlier than you and you greet him cheerfully as you entered the kitchen. he's practically elbow-deep in a large bowl of rice, his hands working deftly to make thrice more onigiri than usual. he nods in your direction, watching as you hang your bag up on the makeshift hooks he’d installed a couple of months ago and press your apron to your front, going to tie it in the back.

“wait-” he starts and you pause, looking up at him with expectant eyes.

“everything okay, ‘samu?”

he looked troubled and nervous but also… shy? you swore you could see a blush forming but you couldn’t be a hundred percent sure.

"i- uh… i have a gift for you.”

your interest was properly piqued now and you threw your apron onto the countertop, skipping over to him in excitement. he seemed to fidget more as you close the distance and you can’t help but feel concerned. you stop a few paces away from him.

“a gift?”

he nods, pulling off his plastic gloves to rinse his hands under the tap for a few seconds, before wiping them on his towel. his movements were more deliberate than normal and you wonder again why he seemed so tense. in the end, you chalk it up to the game and decided not to make it personal.

you watch on eagerly as he reaches into his own bag, bringing out a heap of black fabric. as he brings it over to you, your eyebrows quirk and he's somewhat hesitant to pass it into your outstretched hands.

“just for today. y’know, for the game,” he mumbles.

you take the fabric from him and the waft of his detergent has your heart stuttering against your ribcage. he watches you intensely as you unfold, revealing a black jersey with white accents and letters. you had conveniently opened it so that the front was facing you: your gaze field of vision was obscured by the number ‘11’ in white block print and you turn it around to read the lettering on the back: ‘inarizaki high’.

you gasp as you realise what you’re holding.

“this is-!”

“yeah,” he interrupts you breathlessly. “my high-school jersey.”

the two of you stand in silence, trying to comprehend the situation. osamu seems to realise that you don’t know why he’s suddenly presented you with a relic of his short-lived volleyball career.

“the number is the same as ‘tsumu’s. eleven,” he points out somewhat dumbly and he internally smacks himself for sounding so tactless. you nod slowly and a smile creeps onto your face; osamu’s heart feels like it’s about to leap out of his throat.

“jeez, thank you, ‘samu! i’ll put it on right now.”

his mouth hangs open as he watches you race into the storage room to change. his cheeks are uncomfortably hot as his mind runs a little too wild for nine in the morning and he gulps down some water from the tap to cool off, pulling himself back together. he waits for you like a dog, nervously toeing the linoleum with his sneakers.

“tada!”

he hears your voice first and has no time to prepare himself when you appear in the doorway, hands clasped proudly on your hips. his jersey is a little too large on you but clearly you aren’t bothered by this in the slightest as you proudly show it off. you even do a spin for him, pointing at the lettering on the back.

“whaddya think?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

osamu just stares at you. if he were a cartoon, you’d probably have to pick his jaw up off the floor. he hates how unaware you seem to be of the effect this is having on him and he feels like he’s going to choke if he tries to speak. was the kitchen always this hot? he needs another drink.

“uhhh… osamu? earth to miya osamu?” you say, cautious of his stoic response to something you thought would please him. did you look bad? was he already regretting lending his precious jersey to you? you shrank into yourself a little, suddenly self-conscious.

“anyway, than-” you attempt to ease the tension that had settled

“ya look good.”

his words catch you off-guard and you clam up immediately as your cheeks begin heating up.

“o-oh. thanks…”

his lips flicker into a smile before the kitchen is plunged into an awkward silence. your mind scrambles to think of something, anything, to say but one glance at osamu’s crimson cheeks (and the way he’s trying so hard to hide them from your prying eyes) has your words falling short and your own pulse quickening.

the beeping of the rice cooker snaps you both into reality again and you wipe your clammy hands on your apron. osamu jolts in surprise, remembering that he's standing in the kitchen of his shop only thirty minutes before opening. he nods at you from across the room, wasting no time turning his back to you. you take this as your cue to tidy the shop floor instead of linger in the kitchen unhelpfully, absentmindedly dusting surfaces that osamu had gone over already.

every time you moved your arm, the soft fabric of osamu’s jersey would brush against your skin, wafting the woody scent of his cologne up to your nose like a rolling tide. your cheeks heated again and you scold yourself - today of all days, keep it together!

it didn’t take very long for the place to become packed, the very building itself coming alive whenever the floorboards would creak or the curtains would sway, beckoning customers inside. the television was at full volume and yet the chatter of the diners threatened to drown it out.

the place collectively holds its breath as the commentators introduce the jpn vs arg match. you slide a plate of umeboshi onigiri towards shinsuke, who’d taken the day off especially for the game. he smiles at you gratefully, cheeks rosy as he takes his first bite.

“...great team here today, japan have really put their best foot forward!”

“most certainly! the roster includes some big names from the leagues and i think today’s match will be a close one. not to mention this team has been trained by none other than iwaizumi hajime! after interning under takashi utsui, the father of ushijima wakatoshi, hajime is a force to be reckoned with.”

“i’ve heard that iwaizumi and oikawa, of the argentinian national team, were on the same high-school team! i wonder if there’s any rivalry there…”

laughter ripples around the room.

“with the japan national team in good hands, let’s introduce some of the players! jersey number one and possibly the current best opposite hitter in the world, we have ushijima wakatoshi! he’s joined by his previous teammates of the schweiden adlers, korai hoshiumi and kageyama tobio, jersey's five and nine respectively. what a place for a reunion!”

“they’re not the only ones reuniting on the court today. several members of the MSBY black jackals are here to represent japan. outside hitters kotarou bokuto and sakusa kiyoomi, jersey’s four and fifteen, as well as setter atsumu miya, jersey eleven!”

osamu suddenly appears beside you and kita, grinning wildly as atsumu’s face flashes on screen with a smile. the whole room erupts into cheers and whoops at the mention of the other miya twin and some even clap osamu on the back, their fingers grazing over the number1 printed on the back of his shirt.

“repping ‘tsumu’s number too, huh?” kita mumbles to you softly as he eyes your top with familiarity. you grin, nodding proudly.

“yep! that snotty little brat has come so far!”

the rice farmer laughs, wolfing down the last of his onigiri. osamu watches from his peripheral vision, biceps flexing as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“hey, don’t do that!” you whisper, brushing against the material of his compression sleeve. “you’re hiding the number!”

immediately he brings his hands to his hips, puffing his chest out instead. you bite back a smile.

“there’s no shortage of incredible opposite hitters in this line-up! shoyo hinata, from asas sao paulo, formerly of MSBY black jackals and kageyama tobio’s high-school teammate, is jersey number ten!”

osamu leans down to mutter into your ear.

“we played those two one year at spring nationals. they were a freak duo, f’sure,” he chortles and kita nods in agreement, his lips pursing into a line at the memory. you laugh along, feeling flustered by his closeness.

“not only does japan have a strong offence, but their defence is nothing to laugh at! with yaku morisuke, number seventeen, and motoya komori, number nineteen, argentina definitely have a tough game ahead of them. now for an exclusive court-side interview with kuroo tetsurou of the JVA…”

kuroo’s interview was mostly lost on you as you found yourself swimming in volleyball terminology, some of which osamu patiently explained to you. you would nod along, only half-understanding, and he would laugh affectionately at your cluelessness.

suddenly, the camera pans to atsumu, who’s doing some last-minute stretches. he regards kuroo with familiarity before turning on the charm for the camera. you hear osamu scoff beside you but when you look up at him, he’s grinning uncontrollably. even kita is failing to remain stoic, laughing at atsumu’s unrefined charm.

“if ya ever in hyogo, go ‘n visit onigiri miya! and make sure you tell the owner that i sent-cha!” atsumu announces, waving a little at the camera. osamu pretends to be unimpressed but you can tell he’s secretly preening at the shoutout. 

“and say hello to the pretty new employee too!” the blond twin finishes with a wink, before walking back to the rest of the team.

suddenly, every pair of eyes in the building is fixed on you and you feel yourself crumbling under the intensity of it. someone whoops and osamu groans loudly, apologising on atsumu’s behalf.

“sorry y/n. i may or may not have mentioned ya in my last phone call t’him,” the brunette tells you and you shake your head, telling him that it was nothing to apologise for. thank god atsumu didn’t mention that he actually talked about you non-stop.

“well, alright then, thanks atsumu!” kuroo says, turning to face the camera with a lazy smirk. “i can personally vouch for onigiri miya though, osamu is a wizard in the kitchen. now, let me introduce the starting line-up…”

the electric atmosphere of the court seemed to seep through the glass of the screen as the small onigiri shop all the way in hyogo burst at the seams with energy. osamu swelled with pride as he watched his twin set up perfect, medal-winning spike after spike. he never strayed far from your side either, turning to you to celebrate atsumu’s performance almost reflexively. in those moments it would feel like it was just you and him in the room, everything else drowned out by the thumping of your heart in your chest as your gazes connected and his smile would widen into something you only saw in romance movies.

hardly a week had passed since the game when things were already back to normal. occasionally a customer would mention the game to osamu and they would discuss it in solemn tones before the next person would enter.

“yo, y/n! ‘samu!”

it was right before closing when the sing-song voice of japan’s national setter easily commanded your attention. you jump up at the sound of your name from where you're crouched behind the counter refilling the pile of plastic carrier bags and your head appears over the edge of the counter almost comically as the one and only miya atsumu slides into a nearby stool, a lazy grin on his face.

“a-atsumu?” you breathe, shocked that the charismatic face from the dusty television screen was now in front of you. it was jarring how much he looked like osamu, even though you knew they were identical twins. but evidently it’d been a while since you’d actually seen them both in the same room.

“y/n-chan! it’s been a while, yeah?” he drawls and you pull a face at the cutesy nickname, like you’d remained friends all your life and this wasn’t the first time you were seeing him in person since you were five or six.

“we’re the same age, idiot,” you mumble, slipping around the counter to give the blond an affectionate bear hug. similarly to osamu he towers over you as he squeezes you back, pleased to be reunited with you again. he almost ruffles your hair but chooses to rest his chin atop your head, fearing you'd disapprove of the former option.

“no fraternising with the customers please.”

osamu’s usual scolding tone has hidden mirth as he appears from the kitchen, slinging a towel over his shoulder. his expression of mock annoyance quickly melts into one of happiness as he grins at atsumu.

“hey 'samu! how ya been, bro?” atsumu asks, clapping his brother on the back. “business as usual?”

osamu shrugs half-heartedly, downplaying his recent boom in business.

“yer lil shoutout at the game was funny,” he replies. you nudge his side playfully before turning to the blond.

“he means to say ‘thank you’,” you say, mildly surprised at how little the miya dynamic has changed since you last saw them.

atsumu just barks a laugh, stretching his arms languidly as he sits back down. as osamu flips the sign to ‘closed’, you duck back behind the counter.

“what can i get you, ‘tsumu?” you ask, slipping on a plastic food glove and grabbing a serving plate.

atsumu pretends to ponder his options, rambling about all the new flavours osamu added whilst he was away training. the twin in question merely shakes his head, plopping a plate with three special onigiri down in front of his brother. you didn’t recognise any of them from the display cases and realised osamu loved atsumu a lot more than he ever let on.

“the miya atsumu special,” he comments, pushing the plate further into atsumu’s outstretched hands. “on the house, of course.”

“of course,” the blond echoes, digging right into his specially curated treat.

you bite back a laugh at how voraciously atsumu devours the onigiri in front of him - the plate had barely touched the counter before they were gone. you almost felt inclined to clap as atsumu licked his fingers clean, soaking in your praise. osamu, on the other hand, only looked mildly disgusted as he swept the plate back to the kitchen.

“idiot,” he mumbled as he walked past the two of you and you laugh again.

“tasted even better than the last time,” atsumu comments after a moment.

as sharp as always, the setter had noticed your rosy cheeks and the longing look you'd sent after his twin before he’d disappeared through the curtains. you raised a brow at the sly grin on his face, wondering what he was calculating now.

“he’s never made me my own onigiri before. you’re lucky,” you tell him, folding your arms over your chest as atsumu shrugs and pretends he isn’t proud of the fact he was the only one with a special recipe, courtesy of osamu himself. 

feeling sufficiently fed, the blond stands up and swoops down to pick up his gym bag. he makes a small huff as he hoists it onto his shoulder, despite his lithe arms and broad chest indicating that he lifts much heavier weight on a regular basis. still, the noise is cute and you can’t help but smile as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sports jacket.

“you on your way already?” you ask, your voice softening as you realise you hadn’t really gotten a chance to catch up with your childhood best friend and now he was going to disappear on you much like you had done to him all those years ago. karma, you supposed.

“yep. i wanna go before ‘samu comes back out so he won’t make a big deal out of it,” he snickers, carding a hand through his fringe to keep it out of his eyes. you thought the blonde really suited him, and it made it miles easier to tell the twins apart - a deliberate decision.

“pfft, i wouldn’t struck ‘samu as the emotional type.”

atsumu shakes his head and scrunches up his face as he mulls over the best way to explain it to you.

“i don’t mean in that way… it’s more like he’ll make me feel guilty for leaving already? He offers with another jerk of his shoulders, the movement appearing uneven due to the bag weighing down his right side.

“then…don’t go yet?” you offer, looking at the blond over the counter with your hands slightly clasped in front of your chest. he suddenly becomes bashful, probably not expecting such a blatant desire for his presence. he can't deny he adores your attention though, grinning as as his cheeks pinken.

“ya drive a hard bargain y/n, but i gotta head back to tokyo early tomorrow morning anyway. the olympics ain’t over yet!”

you throw your hands up in defeat, acknowledging your lesser power over the authority of atsumu’s hectic life as an olympic athlete. returning his smile warmly, you reach into the back pocket of your trousers.

“at least give me your number before you go! when i head back to tokyo we should catch up properly.”

something flickers across atsumu’s face as he notices your definitive choice of language but as quickly as it’s there it’s gone and he’s back to his usual smug self.

“sure.” he taps his number into your phone and takes a blurry, dimly lit selfie to set as his contact icon. “see ya, y/n!”

onigiri miya feels uncharacteristically quiet as atsumu disappears into the humid evening and you feel as though this is a good a time as any to close shop. your thoughts are interrupted by osamu's voice thundering from the kitchen.

“did that bastard just leave?!” he yells, squinting into the distance at the ghost of atsumu’s figure. you muffle your laugh with your hand and nod.

“yep. he did it on purpose to avoid you, i’m afraid,” you reply, much to osamu’s chagrin. he makes a ‘tch’ noise and goes to turn back towards the kitchen. however he remains rooted to the spot beside you for a moment, his fist clenched awkwardly by his side. you wondered what had hardened his expression so suddenly.

following his gaze with your own, you land on the tearaway paper calendar hanging by the entrance of the kitchen. august was fast coming to close, signified by the rows of red crosses staining the paper. the 31st was circled, with the words ‘last day at OM!’ written in your own handwriting. embarrassment washes over you as you think about how osamu must’ve perceived your childish excitement to escape from something he was dedicating his entire life to. when you realise how late into the month it is already, the feeling of returning to your lonely, cramped apartment that you had no real attachment to was not a pleasant one.

the realisation of your changed mind hits you like a truck and you grip the counter to steady yourself, world spinning as you confirmed what had become a fact to you since time had gone on: you don't want to go back to tokyo. you want to be here in hyogo serving onigiri to sweet old customers and you wanted to do it with osamu.

with osamu.

you feel compelled to reach for him now, his nickname leaving your lips softly.

he knows you caught him eyeing up that red circle, an ugly reminder that his time with you was always going to be limited. he knew he was being childish as he maintains a cold front with you.

“make sure you lock the register this time, y/n.”

his sharp tone strikes you like a dagger and you physically recoil from him, your throat squeezing.

“wait, osamu! i have something to tell you-” your tone is frantic as you feel him slip further and further out of your grasp.

he ignores your pleas, brushing past your outstretched hand as he enters the kitchen. overcome by helplessness, your feet are rooted to the spot and anxiety starts infecting the rest of your sound mind like black ink blotching a perfectly written letter right at the very end.

no, you weren’t going to let him leave you behind again this time.

as you gather the shreds of your courage, your fingers shake and you untie the apron from around your waist, throwing the coarse fabric on the counter as you stalk after osamu, yelling his name again as you enter the kitchen.

“osamu! wait!”

but the kitchen lights were off. part of you considered that he might be hiding from you in the dark but you knew there was a limit to his immaturity. still, you check every crevice of the room and even the storage room in case he’d decided to fold himself between the piles of ingredients. it was quickly becoming apparent that he was nowhere to be found and now you were genuinely worried.

“osamu?” you call again, more agitated than before. there was no response except for the wind whistling through the back door, which was slightly ajar.

you continue onwards in your search for your childhood friend-turned-boss-turned-crush (again), stumbling into the august evening air. you grimace when you already feel perspiration on your forehead as you look for osamu in the dim light.

it quickly becomes evident that you have no idea where you are on the OM premises, evident by the way you stumble about. you curse as you end up down some alleyway, a shiver running up your spine as you squint at what you hoped was the streetlight across the road from the shop. the gravel crunches underneath your sneakers as you walk towards it hopefully.

“gah!” 

you jump as your shoe hits something and a strong hand reaches out to grab you before you can faceplant the ground. you recognise it as osamu’s and visibly relax, taking a moment to compose yourself and stand up to your full height again. the lighting was abysmal here and it didn’t help that osamu seemed to purposefully stand in the shadows where the artificial glow of the streetlight could only smooth over his cheekbone and the side of his nose.

“samu? that you?” you ask, even though you know it has to be him. who else would be sulking in the hidden alleyway by onigiri miya? He was upset at you, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“did you lock the register?” he mumbles gruffly and you have to fight the urge to laugh at his ridiculousness. you try to find the playful glint amongst the stone-grey irises you had become so familiar with these past four months.

“yes,” you breathe with a chuckle. “yes i did.”

he nods at your response, his hair rustling from the small movement. once again, the silence swallows you both as you stand opposite him. his hand is still clutching your upper arm, the only sign that he was truly afraid to let you go again. you fold your arms over your chest to emphasise that you were going to stay here and talk to him. he seems comforted by that and loosens his grip ever so slightly.

“why’d you go cold on me?” you finally asks, your tone cautious at the risk of upsetting him again. he huffs quietly before answering, his eyes cast at something behind you.

“dunno. was silly of me though. m’sorry y/n.”

your heart melts at how apologetic he sounds and you reach out to touch his cheek, your hand trembling as your skin meets his.

osamu sucks in a sharp breath not expecting you to touch him, but he doesn’t pull away and allows his cheek to be caressed by you, easing the pout on his lips just a little.

“c’mon ‘samu, don’t you think i haven’t learnt a little bit about you after working by your side for four months? we both know what’s on your mind…” you sigh, alluding to your upcoming departure back to tokyo.

“yeah… yeah."

his head tilts towards your hand again, almost as if he were nuzzling it. however the movement is constrained, showing some internal conflict and you wonder what he’s thinking right now.

“d’ya have to go? y/n, i really like having you around,” he mumbles, allowing a sliver of vulnerability to bleed through his words. his hand tightens around your bicep again, tugging you a little closer than before.

“actually,” you laugh, and osamu wonders what could possibly be so funny. “that’s what i want to talk to you about.”

eyes immediately dart towards yours and his mouth falls open slightly. he stares at you intently in a silent plead for you to put him out of his misery, his eyebrows furrowing beneath his fringe. you have to clear your throat softly before you continue, flustered by how helpless he looks before you, hanging onto your every word.

“i-i want to stay. here in hyogo.”

the soft flesh of your upper arm is at his mercy as he tenses and relaxes his hand, making sure he hadn’t misheard you. your own hand drifts from his cheek to his jaw, barely grazing the skin there as you take a deep breath.

“i want to keep working for onigiri miya too. if you’ll let me i mean-”

“yes,” he breathes quickly, interrupting you. you stare at him in shock and he quickly composes himself, eyes darting away from yours for a moment.

“o-okay then. i’ll stay at onigiri miya. there’s nothing for me in tokyo, anyway, and i really like it here with my grandma. goodness knows she’ll need someone to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble,” you smile, finally relieving your shoulders of the weight of your decision to stay in hyogo. you're lighter than air now, never feeling more sure of something in your life. “thanks for installing the doorbell for her, by the way. and the security camera, too.”

osamu chuckles despite himself, nodding as he accepts your thanks. then the same desperate look from before settles across his features again.

“are you sure? that you want to stay here and work for me?” his voice is barely a whisper. “with me. work with me,” he corrects himself.

you grin, your fingers splaying across his chin in a feather-light touch. it’s like you’re making sure that he's in front of you, that he won’t bolt away from your advances again.

“can i get a promotion?” you ask and he smiles again, your index finger brush over his bottom lip as he does so.

“if that means you’ll stay, then yes.”

you giggle a little, the sound mingling with his bated breath as his eyes flicker across your features, comparing the 'you' in front of him to the one from four months ago, and even the little brat he knew in childhood. his heart soars and he feels as though he may fall to his knees in prayer any second now, especially when your hand cups the back of his neck, pressing into the strong muscles that had been built from years of high-school volleyball with inarizaki and now the physical labour that came with running onigiri miya.

you see his expression fall a little, his eyes flickering again to the wall behind you, and gently tilt your head in a silent desire to know what is bothering him.

“‘samu?” you murmur, your worried expression mirroring his.

he flinches, startled by your voice even though you had purposefully kept it soft for the opposite outcome. for some reason he’s struggling to maintain eye contact with you and your fingertips warm up as they brush over his pink cheeks.

 you’re about to utter his name again when his large hands suddenly move to cup your face. his calloused fingertips press tenderly into the softness of your skin, savouring the pillowy feeling of your entire face fitting sweetly into the palm of his hands.

“s-sorry y/n…” and you wonder what on earth he could be apologising for at a time like this. “but i need to kiss ya right now. like real bad.”

his brazen admission has your own cheeks darkening, practically glowing in the fluorescent light that was swallowing you both. your mouth hangs open in a mixture of shock and want, and osamu can’t help but groan inwardly at the sight. he begins leaning in, still muttering against your mouth.

“i can’t hold back anymore. yer just too cute-” he breathes, his thumb shifting slightly to sweep over the edge of your bottom lip. you can just about squeak his name out in response before he closes his mouth over yours.

the kiss is a mixture of sweetness and something else and you grip at the collar of his shirt as he kisses you with fervour only a miya twin could have. his hands still cage your face in a display of desperate possession and even as his lips envelope yours, he's still afraid that you would slip through his finger again, seeping into the cracks in the road as you find your way back to tokyo. his lips push against yours slightly harder at the thought and you have to stand on your tiptoes to gain some ground back from him.

your head begins to spin with the lack of oxygen flowing to your lungs but you don’t care - the only thing you were concerned about was the feeling of osamu’s lips melding against yours and his thumb holding your chin to firmly guide you against him.

when you sigh his own name into his mouth so sweetly that his grip on you tightens, movements growing sloppy as he chases and chases your saccharine lips, you can confidently conclude that it never hurts to do something new.

[thank you for all the support on this mini series! it's been very enjoyable to see your reactions to each chapter hehe. also my requests/ask box is open if you want to leave anything! <3 ]

about me. 

ao3 link.

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 13

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series.

Chapter Thirteen: Breakbones and The Realm’s Delight (Saera I)

A dozen moons have passed, the seasons have changed from summer to fall to winter to spring and back to summer. Lady Alicent has turned into Queen Alicent - and my sister has become the wife of Ser Laenor. Daemon follows me - as the moon follows the sun. My heart reaches and heaves for him - but I am married, no longer his as much as I’d like to think otherwise. 

Leila is lost to childbirth - her son, Tygos, lives. 

I think of her at night, if I would have the same fate as her. 

My grip on Caraxes’ snout tightens. The fate of childbirth scares me. “Did you miss me?” I ask, petting him with the same tenderness as I would to a babe. “The both of us did,” my uncle’s velvet voice floods my senses. I love him, truly - but my morals would not allow me to lay with him. 

I turn to look at him - his face mirroring a thousand sleepless nights. He was beautiful, I wanted to worship him. 

Something has changed within him. His eyes that shone like stars became dull and lifeless. His lips that were filled with plumpness, were now dry and peeling. His hands that were naturally placed on my waist, now laid on his side - staring at me with familiar longingness. 

“Are you well, kepus?” a frown formed between my eyebrows. He was a sweet man - never intending to worry anyone of his pains. He kept his sorrows to himself. “I am well, darling.” he lied, taking a step forward, his body pressed against the warmth of my back and his hands atop mine as we pet Caraxes. 

I could not stare at Caraxes after that - I only wanted to look at my kepus, and to search for any forms of treachery on his face. He takes a deep breath, aware of my gaze upon his godlike features. I had a lot of ambitions about this life - but if Daemon were to be my husband, there would be no need for ambition - no need to prove myself against my father’s lackeys. I would merely lay on our shared bed, drinking the finest wines and feeding him the sweetest cakes. 

“I can feel your sorrow.” I point out, his body moves uncomfortably.

“Tis’ nothing.” he mumbles, yearning for the same things as I. 

I keep my hand firm on the snout of his dragon. We were one soul - the purest of blood with the purest of blood. I could see it in his eyes and the permanent line etched on his forehead. 

“You can always tell me,” my eyes softened. A year was a mere blink to the gods, but a second without him felt like an eternity. “Do not worry about me, my dragon.” he responded with his familiar coldness. 

My mind flashes back to the years before us. 

There was no tenderness inside him, then. Only wanton and dark desires that radiated throughout the realm. He was reserved - he’d show me his vulnerable side, but make sure to keep his crassness. He wouldn’t say that he loved me- no. He’d say that he fucking loved me. 

He still did. 

My uncle was a difficult creature, but I had all the time in the world to unwind him. He was an open book to me. 

Without another word, he lays his head on my shoulder. Words failed to explain how much I loved him, but I made vows to Ser Harwin. I promised to be his until the end of my days, and it is my duty to uphold those vows. 

Harwin is kinder than most, he holds my hands when I walk down the stairs, he helps hunt sheep for Melarys. I've grown to care for my husband, but my love was only reserved for Daemon. 

— (Switch Pov) 

Harwin was attracted to Saera. He liked how she looked - but that was the end of it. He did not like the way she spoke - or how she rolled her eyes at his every statement. Her jokes didn’t make any sense, and her poetry seemed like a far ocean. Oftentimes he thought that their marriage was a mistake. 

She smiled at him, but it would never reach her eyes. 

They made love, but she’d just stare at the ceiling and lay limp on the bed. 

Harwin had a feeling the Princess didn’t like him - that she tolerated his presence. Which led to him residing in Rhaenyra’s chambers, even late at night. The Princess has taught him about the secret passages - told him that he needed to know it so he could teach his children. 

“The Queen hovers over me like I am some petulant child.” Rhaenyra complains, browsing through the thick book on her hands. Alicent was curious and wanted an heir for Rhaenyra - knowing fully well that Laenor was in line with his own gender. “She wishes for me to have a child, so that she may derail my children's claims.” she rolled her eyes. 

The Hightowers have become overbearing. Otto was hellbent in making his grandson heir. Lancel wanted to betroth his son to Rhaenyra’s future daughter. And Alicent - she was always strange. 

“I don’t see why you’re having a hard time with that.” Harwin chuckles, earning a soft glare from the Princess. “You speak to me rudely, you know that? And you’re the one to speak, my sister is yet to be heavy with a child.” Rhaenyra snides, taking her eyes away from the book. 

Ser Harwin Strong has been formally proclaimed as her sworn sword. Harwin was her friend at court - a better replacement to Ser Criston. 

“I don’t suppose that it is my fault, the Targaryen Sisters are barren.” he jokes. She hits him lightly with the book in her hands. “How dare you?” she gasps playfully, placing the book on her side and preparing to chase him. 

Harwin’s eyes softened. 

“It’s not funny,” she crosses her arms with a huff. “I’m sorry.” he hums, moving his body closer to hers. 

“I feel as though a dagger is always placed upon my neck. My father asks me about being with a child - and I cannot answer him because - Laenor is having a hard time with me.” she groans, feeling his gaze upon her face. 

“ - he’s not attracted to me. He likes men.” she revealed. 

“The gods are cruel.” he whispers, hot breath trailing along her ears. The Princess was given a husband that didn’t want her - and he was given a wife that tolerated him. “I could not imagine ever hating you - if you were to be my wife.” he admits, playing with the rings on his finger (a habit he stole from her.) 

“I wonder often - if we should’ve been the ones married.” she chuckled, and his eyes alternated between her lips and eyes. He was drunk on her love. “I agree,” he whispers, lips moving closer to hers. 

Their lips merged together - tongue prodding inside hers. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, breaking the kiss. They did not think about Saera or Laenor in that moment - only each other, and the bliss that they could bring. 

“Byka ōtor, my little sheep.” she cooed while combing through his hair. “How do you say, dragon?” he asked, staring deep into her lavender hues. “Zaldrīzes, but that is what my uncle calls Saera.” she hums, thinking of another possible endearment. 

“Fire, then?” he inquires. 

“Perzys,” she answers, and he smiles. 

“My Perzys.” 

—

Daemon was a flickering flame without his little girl. He couldn’t think properly or participate in the meetings of the council without her in his mind. He missed the days that she would fill his cup with wine - and they would lay in his chambers playing a Valyrian game called: zaldrīzoti se ropagon. Saera always won, despite his efforts. 

He places the bottles of wine on his vanity - mentally reminding himself to order the handmaidens to clean his room. He had two handmaidens, Freya and Tyanna - they were old ladies given to him by his brother, in fear that he’d fuck the young ones. In fairness to him - he has not visited the Streets of Silk since the start of his informal relationship with Saera. 

He has found that the only person that could satisfy him was her. 

No other pleasure in the world would do. 

A knock on the door reminded him that was still alive. It was one of his trusted gold-cloaks coming to check on him. “Enter,” he commanded, already knowing who it was by the sound of his footsteps. Ser Aran, a newly anointed knight, enters the room - he was a boy of ten and sixteen. 

He raised that boy - taught him all that he could, only wanting their loyalty in return. “My lord,” the man bows, holding his helmet near his waist. “The gold cloaks have been disarrayed without you.” the man reports, eyes begging for him to return. “Your new commander, does he not teach you?” his eyes narrowed, not wanting to speak ill of Saera’s husband. 

“He does - but it pales in comparison to your regiment.” the man asserts, trying to convince his liege that Harwin Strong was not the right choice. “He is a stranger to us - the men have become weak without our father.” Aran adds. 

“Oh, but when I was there - all I could hear were complaints.” Daemon rolled his eyes playfully, sipping on his wine like it was water. “Playful complaints, I assure you - the gold cloaks miss their rightful commander. Flea-Bottom calls us the ‘yellow cloaks’ now, because of our weakness.” Aran informs Daemon's eye twitches at the nickname. 

“Fucking cunts - I built you, forged you, and year into his reign he has already turned my hard work into shit.” Daemon’s hand squeezes around the goblet. “Our loyalty remains yours, my prince. If you ever decide to create a coup -” the man tries to finish but Daemon interrupts him.

“My loyalty remains to the crown, and I am thankful that your loyalty remains mine. You are dismissed, Ser Aran.” 

next chapter>>

taglist. @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @gracielikegrapes @sweethoneyblossom1 @issybee0611 @tato0od @daemonskelitsos @delaynew @thisbihreadstoomuch

[srgntjamesbuckybarnes]

Slipping Through my Fingers (1)

Summary: When a married woman catches the eye of Bucky Barnes, he is determined to stop at nothing to get to know her better.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Not Beta’d.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Summer 1940

It was the summer of 1940. James Buchannan “Bucky” Barnes was 23 and one of Brooklyn's finest. Between his 6-foot stature, steel blue eyes, carefully styled umber locks, and charming smile the man never had trouble scoring a date. Hanging out with his scrawny banana haired best friend, Steve Rogers, only made him look better. Despite Bucky only being a year older, the contrast was too great to ignore. The war had yet to reach the United States. James was on top of the world.

“Run Buck!”

In the distance, laughter echoed off of the row of homes. Children danced in the street, jumping between puddles that gushed from the fire hydrant. The liquid ran like a river where the street met the sidewalk. That hadn’t been enough to stop the guys from playing baseball.

Water splashed beneath Bucky’s tennis shoes soaking the bottom of his trousers. He nearly reached the foreign object used for third base when the ball whipped past his head landing in the glove of the man on third base. Out! Bucky traded his quick steps for a slower pace. Passing third base, Bucky came to a halt, a glove outstretched in his direction.

“I told you to run,” Steve snarked, sitting on the step outside of his front door.

Bucky snatched the glove from his friend with a huff. He wanted to tell Steve to try to outrun the ball, but he knew the blonde wouldn’t be able to outrun it, not in this heat. Steve’s asthma would have taken him out before anyone could even tag him. It was the reason Steve was spectating the game rather than playing.

“Whatever. What’s the score?"

Steve reached beside him cranking up the hand radio. Bucky used the end of his once white undershirt to wipe the sweat adoring his forehead. Soaked in water and sweat, the shirt was nearly see through in the sweltering heat.

The crackle of the radio announced the Brooklyn Doger’s lead as Bucky slid the glove over his left hand. Steve leaned back on one hand, his other shielding his eyes as he stared up at Bucky. “At least someone is winning.”

Bucky scoffed, tapping his friend in the shoulder with his gloved hand. Steve wobbled slightly, losing his balance.

“One day, we're gonna get you in a game and I’m gonna kick your ass,” Bucky teased, turning to find his team in the outfield waiting for him. The inning was over.

“Worry about this game first,” Steve laughed. When Bucky didn’t move or reply with a snarky comment Steve jabbed him in the ribs. “What’s going on with you?”

Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman across the street. She had come out of nowhere and demanded his attention. Her hair bounced with each step she took. The A-line shirtwaist dress flattered her figure; the skirt flowing with each step forward. 

“Now that’s a woman,” Bucky gawked.

Following Bucky’s gaze, Steve frowned. “That’s Y/N Y/L/N. She’s freshly married.”

“And out of your league,” one of Bucky’s teammates joked.

Shrugging off the comment, Bucky side-eyed Steve. “How do you know?” Bucky found it hard to believe Steve had talked to the woman. Steve was awkward around women. He was constantly putting his foot in his mouth.

Steve shrugged, wiping some gravel from his palms. Casually Steve replied, “She volunteered with my ma before she died. Y/N sends me medicine sometimes.”

Steve was an orphan. Steve’s mother Sarah died back in 1936 and his father even earlier. They both died working. His father Joseph died during World War I due to mustard gas. Similarly, Steve’s mother had been a nurse in the tuberculosis ward and became sick. Y/N had been good friends with his mother, and she continued to look after him when his mother passed. She always made sure Steve had the medicine he needed. She was good.

Suddenly Bucky whirled on Steve, “A pretty little thing like that has been bringing you medicine all of these years and you never told me?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I didn’t need you scaring her off.”

Bucky crossed his arms; his muscles would be threatening to anyone else, but Steve knew better. He had grown up with Bucky long enough to know Bucky would never throw the first punch. James Barnes was a lover. Any girl in Brooklyn could attest to that. He only fought when he had to or when he was defending someone else. He defended Steve many times but outside of brotherly fights, he never laid his hand on him.

“Introduce me,” Bucky demanded.

Steve frowned, “What? No. She’s smitten with her husband anyway.”

Steve could have sworn he saw a mischievous glint in Bucky’s eye but chose not to say anything. Bucky would deny it anyway.

“Then it won’t hurt.”

“Yeah, but your ego will be bruised, and I’ll have to hear about it for the next year.”

Ignoring Steve, Bucky walked into the middle of the street calling out to the batter. “Send the next one to me.” The batter pointed the bat at Bucky, acknowledging him. Bucky ran to the opposite side of the street hovering by second base.

CRACK.

The ball soared in the air slightly out of Bucky’s reach. Had he tried, he would have caught the ball, but some things were more important than winning a game. Bucky intended to win at life. Timing it perfectly, Bucky stumbled backwards pretending to go after the ball.

A yelp cried out followed by a thud. Home run Bucky thought, catching himself before he tripped over her. Still standing, Bucky twisted his torso to peep down at the woman on her knees before him. The corner of his lip twitched upward. The items she had been carrying scattered across the pavement.

Steve shook his head watching the scene unfold before him. It wasn’t news to him, but his friend was shameless.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I wasn’t paying attention,” Bucky apologize. Before she could reply Bucky was crouching down to help her pick up her objects. He had seen Steve’s medicine enough to recognize the contents on the sidewalk.

Y/N sent him a soft smile. “It’s my fault. I should’ve known better than to walk by an active play.”

Bucky hummed, handing her the last of her items before offering his hand to help her up. With a small thank you, Y/N accepted his hand.

“I’m James but my friends call me Bucky.”

“Y/N.”

Bucky grinned, shaking her right hand. Wrapped around her brown paper bag was her left hand. The small diamond on her ring finger was enough to catch his eye. Nodding to the ring he asked, “Is your husband around to help you carry that?”

Y/N shook her head, yanking her hand back. “No. He’s working. I was just dropping this off to a friend anyway.”

“Can I help? It’s the least I can do after knocking you over.”

Y/N eyed the man searching for any reason to distrust him. Shaking her head she replied, “It’s okay. I’m actually just going across the street.”

Bucky quirked an eyebrow jabbing his thumb in his friend’s direction. “Bringin’ that to Steve?”

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline as she peered over his shoulder at the blonde sitting on the steps. He sent her a shy wave and she responded with a wave of her own. Cutting her eye to Bucky, she asked, “You’re Steve’s friend?”

Bucky rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Best pal,” he beamed with an award-winning smile. Being associated with Steve had never won Bucky the attention of a woman before. Some women fawned over how he looked after Steve, but no one had bothered to care about Steve. Y/N cared about Steve.

“Well Bucky, any friend of Steve is a friend of mine.”

Bucky’s grin deepened and without missing a beat, he transferred the bag into his own arms. Nodding in Steve’s direction, he motioned for Y/N to follow him. Holding the bag in one hand, he extended his other arm to support her as she stepped over the puddle. He expected her to release his forearm immediately, but she clung to his arm using it once again to step back onto the sidewalk once they reached Steve.

Nerves set in as Y/N passed the men waiting around to play baseball. Usually, it wouldn’t bother her but since they were waiting for Bucky to return, there was nothing for them to do but stare. Steve never mentioned having friends, so Bucky alone had been a surprise, but enough friends to play baseball really threw her a curveball.

“Special delivery for one punk,” Bucky mocked, plopping the bag beside Steve. Bucky couldn’t help but smirk at the look of horror on Steve’s face as Y/N walked beside him. He didn’t expect Bucky to actually befriend her.

“Thanks Y/N,” Steve mumbled.

“Steve,” Y/N scolded. “You never mentioned your friends.”

Steve's face twisted into a grimace. He didn’t want to correct her and embarrass himself, but she already thought he had no friends, and he was honest. “Friend,” he nodded at Bucky. “The rest are Bucky’s friends.” The sympathetic expression that crossed her face had Steve burying his head in the bag. He didn’t want the pity. He pulled medicine from the bag pretending to inspect the labels.

“I’m your friend Steve,” Y/N whispered.

Steve shook his head, “You were my ma’s friend.”

Bucky cringed at the words. Steve may have missed the way Y/N flinched, but Bucky didn’t. While Steve talked to Y/N, it seemed she wasn’t the exception when it came to Steve putting his foot in his mouth.

“That’s not fair Steve. I don’t do this for your mother, I do it for you. I don’t have many friends either.”

Steve opened his mouth to speak but Bucky slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “Well, now we're friends. Steve didn’t mean it doll; the heat is jus’ gettin’ to ‘im. He’s been sassy all day.”

The two men held a silent face off, glaring at one another. Steve didn’t need Bucky to scare her away, Steve would push her away all on his own if he kept it up. Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve would have apologized the next time he saw her. He was just pushing her away to get her to leave so Bucky couldn't sink his hooks into her. Instead, all Steve did was push her under his arm.

Faking a wave, Steve fanned himself dramatically. “Bucky’s right. I didn’t mean it Y/N. I appreciate your friendship, really.” When Y/N relaxed under Bucky’s arm Steve asked, “How’s married life? You look good. Happy.”

Blushing Y/N ducked under Bucky’s arm, smoothing the skirt of her dress before sitting beside Steve. “I am happy, really happy actually.”

Steve gave Bucky a smug grin fishing the baseball that had gotten lost in the bag out, tossing it into his chest. Bucky swiftly caught the ball with a huff. “Thanks for the delivery, Buck. I think the guys need their player back.” He pointed at the crowd that had gathered in the street.

Bucky grumbled as Steve turned the radio up slightly. The announcer mocking him, “He struck out!” Bucky wished he could reach over and wipe the smug grin off of his friend’s face, but Bucky reminded himself, a world series wasn’t won based on one game. Baseball was a long game and Bucky was in it for the long haul. She demanded his attention and now he would demand hers.

Game on. 

Steve swore he never saw Bucky play a better game after that. Bucky hit every ball pitched to him, he caught every ball sent his way, sometimes he caught ones that he was nowhere nearby. Bucky was well built; he was athletic but even on his best day he didn’t care as much as he did in that moment. He was showing off.

Firsts were important in a relationship, the first kiss, the first I love yous, the first home, the first year in a marriage. Eight months. That was all it took for Y/N and Harry to have their first fight.

Y/N had met Harry at the ripe age of 17. As a military brat, Harry’s family moved around a lot, but for a while, they were neighbors. With an unstable environment, the army was Harry’s only constant. It was all he knew, so it was no surprise when he joined the army alongside his father. It wasn’t until after his father passed that Harry returned to Brooklyn. It wasn’t long after he reunited with Y/N that he asked her on a date. He hadn’t returned to the military since.

Y/N had lived in Brooklyn her entire life. It was her home and for the first 8 months of their marriage, Harry accepted that it was his home too. But once the birds stopped chirping, the air grew chilly, and the dark skies started approaching faster, the honeymoon phase was over. The harvest was here, and Harry would be plucked from their home.

“I have to go,” Harry mumbled. His hand rubbed circles along his wife’s back. It wasn’t enough to stop the tears from splashing on their comforter.

Y/N’s jaw wobbled, the image of her husband blurry though her tears. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She wasn’t supposed to be crying in the same place they made love.

“You don’t have to,” she croaked. He wanted to. There’s a difference.

Harry brushed a few strands of his thick chestnut locks from his face. “I do,” he insisted. He grasped the sides of her head pressing a harsh kiss along her hairline. With a deep exhale he whispered against her forehead, “You could come with me.”

Y/N shoved his chest. “And live jumping from place to place?” She shook her head. “Brooklyn is my home, Harry. My life is here. I don’t want uncertainty; I want to settle down in Brooklyn and grow old with you by my side.”

Harry frowned. They had never talked about Harry returning to the army. Y/N had always assumed that part of Harry had died along with his father. Harry wasn’t sure where he stood when it came to the military but when one of his friends serving wrote about a rumor that the United States might be joining the war, he knew he couldn’t let his men face it alone. He re-enlisted. Y/N wouldn’t understand.

“I’m doing this for us,” Harry argued.

It paid the bills and put food on the table.

Y/N scoffed, jabbing her finger into his chest. “No, Harry, you’re doing this for you.”

Rising from the bed, Harry slammed his fist against the wall. “I asked you to come with me.”

“Only after you had already enlisted. You didn’t even discuss it with me.”

Harry cautiously stepped forward, careful not to scare Y/N. When she didn’t move, he enveloped her in his arms. She let him. Her tears stained his button-down shirt as he whispered a string of apologies.

Eventually, Y/N broke physically and mentally. The reality of their situation settled in. She didn’t want to spend what little time they had left fighting. Her arms wrapped around his waist, trying to memorize the feel of her husband. Silently, she imprinted his voice into her brain as if it was the last time she would ever see him. Maybe it was.

Clutching the front of his shirt, she leaned up pressing a soft kiss against his neck. Again and again. Harry stuttered before falling silent. In his silence he could hear her pleas between each kiss, her lips reaching just under his jaw.

Harry pinched her chin drawing her lips to his own. The kiss was slow as if they were learning how to kiss one another. This wasn’t a first kiss though. First kisses were reserved for hellos and just as important as firsts were, so were lasts. This was a last kiss; it was goodbye.

Harry licked his lips as he pulled away. It wasn’t until the salty tang reached his taste buds that he realized he had been crying. Reminding himself it wasn’t forever, he stroked Y/N’s hair.

“I have to do this, Y/N. Big things are coming."

Next Chapter

[boyfhee]

THE WORLD STAGE · yang jungwon

w : food mentions, implications of death

note : for my dear vie slash @koishua, a desensitized and inconsolable jungwon in return for a heeseung on the verge of insanity ( once again, i am loving these names ) i hope you like this even though this is nowhere near how you portray such subjects in your works.

“will we be able to hang out like this after your debut?” your voice was quick to reach his ears, traversing through the bits of summer as it had drifted lightly in the wind. golden highlights rest on your cheekbones, grape-fruit coloured sky embracing the city in its arms. your eyes had closed in satisfaction as the honey-vanilla flavoured ice cream melted against your tongue. 

“i’m not sure,” he had taken a bite off his popsicle, much to your amusement, before wiping a speck of your dessert from the corner of your mouth. “i can make time for you, as always,” 

and he remembers those moments quite well. jungwon remembers the way you looked away in silence, the way your hair flowed in soft waves as laughs emanated from your flustered grimace and spun in summer air. he remembers the way you fished out small bits of walnuts from the ice cream, the way melody his heart sung when his eyes met yours again, he remembers the chaste kisses that tasted of vanilla, the flavour still settles on his mouth like a sudden change in the weather. jungwon remembers the way you had taken his hands and promised to be at every concert, every fan-sign, every public event and, beyond, no matter where you were in the world. he remembers the fluttering promises that have now become strings of broken words, resting in his palms. 

it’s a stage and jungwon had pictured every moment of his life with you, a premeditated plot, a story that was bound to have a happy ending. with dreams in mind and a desire to reach the stars, you both walked the path together. the future was uncertain, but his hand was in yours, and his early teen years were spent in discovering new places and creating memories on spontaneous trips to nearby cities after school. when jungwon became a trainee, there was an image in his mind— him on the stage, your hands in his, the world stage. he imagines himself telling the world about you, his best friend, his lover, his beginning, middle, end and everything in between; and he wants to tell that a million hearts beat for him but his’ only ever beats for yours’, it’s a synchrony of melody and melancholy. he wants the universe to know about you because his love is louder than the sound of silence and secrecy. it’s overflowing and spilling all around, and he’s waiting for you to pick it up. 

“when you get famous, tell everyone that i was your biggest fan,” you had requested from the top of the climbing frame, winding rustling through your air as he watched you from down below, eyes squinted against the soft caresses of the setting sun. “don’t let anyone take my spot,” 

he remembers the way you had started referring to yourself in past tense, finding it rather amusing, unlike him, as if you had existed before time. while every step he took felt like a knife to his heart, you smiled widely, running through fields with arms wide open. you would enjoy the silvers of steam rising from your warm cups of coffee, jungwon would instead notice the way you had grown weaker. he remembers the little flowers of fears that gently broke from the buds and began to bloom the night his hand reached out to you, only to be met with cold sheets on the other side of the bed. he remembers the way your hands would cup his tear stained cheeks, a smile dancing on your lips, warmth oozing through your fingertips— a touch he wishes he could forget. 

jungwon sits in the balcony amidst the biting gusts of cold winds that arrive with changing seasons. he doesn’t know what to do with all this love now that you aren’t around. 

he swears, he feels your presence around in the kitchen of his dorm, behind the curtains in the living room, in the mirrors of the dance practice room on days he rests against the cold wooden tiles, succumbing to the thoughts of you. it’s okay, he feels you whisper in his ears, the words that water the flowers, and he drifts into sleep until someone wakes him up. it’s okay, was all you said every time he didn’t do well on tests, every time he failed to show up on dates due to schedules, every time he cried to you about his fears and every time he saw you walk away in his nightmares. jungwon would love you until your face is fogged by a distant memory, but you had made up your mind, and you were so ready to go.

yang jungwon stands on the world stage now, with a broken promise holding his heart together, hands full of dreams he has finally achieved and yet feeling so empty. yang jungwon is going to be in love with you, in silence and secrecy, for a lifetime and more. 

it’s not going to be okay for a very long time.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

House of Black Part 4

Regulus Black AU

Request: Regulus and his wife are raising Sirius’ daughter after he ends up in Azkaban. Now after his escape Sirius comes to them to thank them and get to know his daughter.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader. Former Sirius x Reader

Link to Part 3 

Rating: T

_____

Tea time proved to be a silent affair. No one said a word for the first little bit. You sat quietly by Regulus’ side while Sirius sat beside Remus. Sirius had tried to talk to Regulus a handful of times only to be met with the biggest go-to-hell look that he had ever seen in his life. If looks could kill, Sirius would have been dead on the floor.

After Sirius’ newest attempt, you finally looked up from your teacup and met Remus’ gaze. He raised an eyebrow. Neither of you really wanted to get into this “love fest.” If it were up to either of you, the two of you would bail off someplace and let Sirius and Regulus handle this.

“How did Abby do in school this year, Remus?”

Regulus asked, wanting to change the subject himself. He wouldn’t admit it but his mind was a very confusing place to be at the moment. Part of him, the innocent child-like side, was thrilled to see Sirius. He had missed his older brother more than words could say. From the time that Sirius left home to now, Regulus had missed him. He had missed the days when it was the two of them against the world.

The adult side, however, the side that had been slighted and hurt felt differently. Regulus was ready to keep his walls up. From Sirius leaving to how he treated you…Regulus would keep an eye on him constantly if he had to. Regulus would be stubborn if he had to and he didn’t care to admit it. If it kept his family, meaning Abby and yourself, safe then Regulus would be ready to fight in an instant.

They don’t call me King Petty for no reason.

Regulus thought with a smile before looking over at you. You hadn’t said much through tea time. One of your hands was resting on his thigh as if giving him a reason to keep himself calm.

My wife…

Regulus smiled at the thought. You were all his. He had won the girl. Of all the times that he had lost out on other things that he wanted; Regulus was thankful to have won you.

Remus speaking tore Regulus from his thoughts.

“She did well. All of her grades were high. She’s a smart girl. Don’t let the whole end-of-the-year fiasco totally ruin her whole year behaviorally.”

Regulus knew exactly what Remus was referring to…the “Sirius” incident. You meanwhile, smiled.

“I knew that she would do well. I see so much of Regulus in her. She is nearly as good as a student as you were.”

Regulus smirked. The expression of annoyance on Sirius’ face was enough to make his whole day.

“I’m glad that something good wore off on her.”

Regulus commented as you leaned over to kiss his cheek again.

“She does well with most everything.”

Remus had to agree with that. While he did see a lot of Sirius in Abby, he saw more of Regulus. Sure, a lot of this had to do with who raised her but there was a lot of Regulus and yourself. Abby was respectful and always did well with schoolwork. Something told Remus that Abby and Hermione would do very well in life if they continued to work as hard as they did.

Glazing at Sirius, Remus had to roll his eyes. Remus wouldn't be shocked in Sirius started yelling.

“She even studies over the summer. Regulus really is some father.”

You added a look of pride in your eyes. To say that you were proud of Regulus was an understatement. He had come such a long way from where he was when the two of you became a couple. He had gone from a foul-tempered death eater to doing a complete 360. He was now at a point where he could freely admit was a nutcase Lord Snakeface was.

Regulus had been afraid that he would never be able to admit that nor be a decent husband and father. Yet here was doing the job like a champ. You knew that he was constantly worried about being like his father. As much as you wanted to tell him that it was a silly thought…you didn’t. You wanted Regulus to see what a distance he had come from his time growing up to now.

Regulus wrapped your hand around yours giving you a gentle squeeze. You always knew how to make him feel better.

“Aren’t you two adorable?”

Sirius said, in an annoyed tone. The last thing that he really wanted to do was sit and watch the two of you be gaga over each other.

“We can be more adorable but it would be weird for you to be watching me snog my wife.”

Regulus commented, making sure to put emphasis on the word “wife.” Sirius shook his head with a grossed-out expression. You, meanwhile, stood up and ran a hand through Regulus’ curls.

“That’s enough you too. We don’t need to be going on like this when Abby and Harry come back. They have enough on them without adult problems.”

Regulus and Sirius glared at each other again before both nodding. As much as Regulus wanted to be a snooty bitch, he wouldn’t do anything that could hurt his “daughter.” Even if Abby was Sirius’ daughter, she was Regulus’ and he wasn’t about to start thinking any differently.

“Yes, love.’

Regulus commented before looking down at his watch.

“It's time to go get her anyway. Are you coming?”

You shook your head. This was a conversation that happened every year at this time. No matter if the three of you would be in Grimmauld Place or not, you had the traditions that you were not about to give up. Regulus always picked Abby up from school and you were at home fixing all of her favorite homemade treats. This gave both Regulus and Abby time to bitch about people that they jointly disliked (for example, the Malfoys).

“I have a cake in the oven. I always make her a cake when she comes home from school. Besides, she will want some time alone with you anyway.”

Regulus nodded as he stood up. He turned his attention to Remus.

“Would you like to come?”

Remus nodded, standing up. Neither made a comment in Sirius' direction. Both men knew that he was unfortunately locked in the house for the time being.

Regulus didn’t fancy the idea of leaving you alone with Sirius but he had a feeling that you had your own peace that you needed to say. It would be best that he wasn’t home to witness it either. If Sirius said something too out of the way, Regulus would lose his shit and no progress would ever be made.

You, meanwhile, pushed in your chair as Regulus came to stand beside you. He gently tilted your face to his with a small smile.

“I’ll see you soon, darling.”

You couldn’t help the smile that came over your face. Of all of the years of marriage and rather unpleasant things, nothing changed how the two of you looked at each other like teenagers finding their first love. This was the true love that you craved as a child.

“Be safe.”

You said as Regulus leaned down to kiss you.

“He isn’t going off to war.”

Sirius muttered. Regulus turned to look at his brother coldly.

“You’re the one standing watching. If you don’t like it then go haunt another room in this house. Maybe talk to Mum’s obnoxious portrait?”

Sirius shook his head and bolted into the sitting room as Regulus and Remus left.

You had been in the kitchen for around five minutes when Sirius got brave enough and came into the kitchen. He was quiet for a few moments as you put the final details on the cake. You were quietly humming and for the first time in a while, Sirius felt a peace.

He had missed you. There was no easier way to say it. He regretted what happened between the two of you with everything that he had. Even if he couldn’t have you romantically, he still wanted your friendship. Harry and yourself were all Sirius had that reminded him of James. Harry was the visual reminder of James and you were the constant of James.

“I know you’re there.”

You commented, finally looking up. Sirius shrugged before scratching the back of his neck.

“So…is he treating you right?”

You again looked up from the little purple cake. Blinking, you put the icing down.

“Compared to who?”

You replied, looking up with a very James Potter-like sassy expression. Sirius sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, I deserved that. Go ahead, Y/n. Give me what you’ve got. I know that you are dying to do so.”

You shook your head putting the icing down. Of course, you wanted to lay into Sirius. You wanted to tell him everything that you had gone through over the years. From losing James and Lily to fighting the Dursleys over Harry, to losing your own baby with Regulus, and all of the bullshit experiences in between…but you weren’t. It wouldn’t make any difference anyway.

“I would not waste one iota of energy on it, Sirius. What I will tell you is that you need to lay off Regulus. He’s my husband and I am telling you to leave him the hell alone. He doesn’t need it.��

Sirius raised an eyebrow.,

“Oh damn it, not you too. You are on the Protect Reggie train that my mother and everyone else were on.”

You froze before looking up with an expression on your face that told Sirius how much he fucked up.

“Now you listen to me and you listen good Sirius Black because the next time I say this I will be hexing you. Leave Regulus the fuck alone. Yes, I am protecting him and I will die protecting him. You owe your brother a lot for everything that he’s done for you. He isn’t the spoiled little boy that you remember. He’s the man that I love and I will never stop defending him. He didn’t leave me for someone else. You did. Regulus picked up the pieces that you left broken without care. You like to think that you are the most powerful member of the House of Black. No, you didn’t apply yourself. Regulus is the most powerful member of this family and that won’t be changing. He’s the one that was recruited by Voldemort at 16 for his abilities. He’s the one that figured out Voldemort’s secret of horcruxes and nearly died to get one of them. Regulus is the one who nearly destroyed his body so the rest of us can live. Of course, you don’t know about any of that but you should be damn grateful to him. If you can’t be grateful or proud of him for that then thank him for stepping up and being the father to your daughter. You were the one that lost your shit on Peter Pettigrew and got locked up….before you say it, I understand your anger…trust me I felt the same way and I still do…knowing that he is still alive and out there…I can’t see straight…”

Sirius stood totally motionless. He didn’t expect to totally have his ass handed to him that intensely but…it happened. Sirius wanted to ask what you were talking about with Regulus. What was Regulus doing? He seemed okay. Was the whole Horcrux business why Regulus limped when he walked? Sirius had so many questions but now didn’t seem like the time.

You wiped angry tears from your face. In the weeks, that it had been since you learned of Peter Pettigrew being alive, your rage had returned. Knowing the monster of a man that betrayed your brother and sister-in-law was alive and well tormented you.

“Y/n…I didn’t….I had no….”

You held a hand up.

“No, you didn’t know but now you do. Sirius, I care for you. That won’t ever change but I love your brother. I married him because I love Regulus more than anything. If you can’t respect your brother for the man that he is then respect me as your friend for my own choices. My choice is and will always be Regulus.”

Sirius was quiet for a moment before sighing.

“It's hard seeing you kiss him…love him…when he was the boy that you used to be scared to death of.”

You tried to empathize with Sirius. In ways he was right. You were scared of Regulus when you first met him. He was the boy that was always angry. Something in his cold grey eyes scared you to death…but it changed.

Now Regulus was your comfort. Things had indeed changed. His once cold eyes were now the eyes that you could look into for hours.

“That’s because I didn’t know him…just like you don’t know him now. As I said…you owe him a few thousand thank yous.”

The conversation stopped when the front door opened and closed. You gave Sirius a final look before turning and going into the foyer where Regulus stood with Abby, Remus, and Harry. Abby still had her hand wrapped around Regulus’.

“Mum!”

She said cheerfully before running over and wrapping her arms around you. You immediately kissed the top of her head as Regulus smiled from his place.

“Hi, darling. Did you have a wonderful year? I sure have missed you.”

You said. Abby nodded.

“I did. I missed you and dad so much!”

When the words “mum and dad” left Abby’s mouth, your eyes met Regulus’. Abby didn’t call the two of you mum and dad very much. She did when she was a little girl but as she got older it was by your names. Regulus shrugged, noticing Sirius watching from the door. The two of you didn’t have to speak to the other to know that Abby was simply stating that you were still her parents even if Sirius was back in the picture.

“We’ve missed you too, love.”

You said, patting her cheek. Abby went back to Regulus and wrapped her hand through his again. Regulus knew why Abby was acting this way. She was overwhelmed. With everything that had happened this past year, from meeting her actual father to now being back at Grimmauld Place…the poor child was overwhelmed and Regulus didn’t blame her.

“Is Gran’s portrait still screaming at everyone?”

Abby asked. Regulus rolled his eyes

“Oh yeah, Gran is still at it making everyone’s lives miserable…its her Christmas. Why don’t you and Harry go unpack? Kreacher is roaming around here someplace. Don’t give him too bad of a headache.”

Abby nodded before following Harry out of the room. Regulus waited a moment before shaking his head. Something told him the upcoming weeks were not about to be easy and unfortunately, there was no escaping it any longer.

_____

@amelie-black @justfinishthis @jessyballet @knreidy1 @georgeweasleydumbhoe @acciosiriusblack @siriuslyceleste @stelleduarte @millies0bsimp @coffeeaddictednymph @rogue-nyx88 @readtomeregulus @starsval @daddyslittlevillain @panpride @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @s-we-e-t-t-ea @i-love-scott-mccall @buttercup-beeee @padf00ts-l0ver @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @quinis @aurorasnape12 @mentally-unstable-hoe @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @lostarc24 @play-morezeppelin @ravenhood2792 @un-lovesherself @yousmellllikecaca @bennyberry @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @ad-astra-again @rubyroscoe1 @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @criminalyetminimal @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @untoldshortsofthefandoms @deanwherescas @tas898 @li0nh34rt @shitfaceddaniel-blog @wontlookaway @sprnaturallover @melaninnbarbie @missgorldafirst @saramaple @marichromatic @dumybitch 

[queercontrarian]

Eris calls in his bargain with Rhysand: he wants Nesta to join him in the Autumn Court to help him in his scheme to bring down his father.

an @acotargiftexchange fic dedicated to @secret-third-thing. my goal is to post one chapter a week until the end. big thanks to @iftheshoef1tz for letting me scream in your dms about this fic and to @acourtofladydeath for being the best spy i could've asked for. i love you, please enjoy ♡

read on AO3

Prologue

Eris had been born in the middle of the night on an unusually cold day, less than a week before the Summer Solstice. He’d been told the story of how he came into the world many times by his mother, and even more often by her midwives who liked retelling it every time his mother went into labor again. Six times they had repeated it to him while he was waiting outside of his mother’s quarters along with the rest of the family and later his younger brothers. He knew it by heart, every last detail of it etched into his mind. 

How his mother had gone into labor a few days earlier than the healers had anticipated. Just couldn’t wait to be born , they would say. The first Vanserra child born in centuries, with all the hope of saving a failing bloodline resting on his tiny shoulders. 

How loud he’d screamed. Strong lungs - a good sign . He needed to be strong, and loud, to make people pay attention to him. Attention was currency in his grandfather’s court. 

How his father had burst into the room the very first time he heard him scream to welcome his firstborn into the world. How he’d held him, how happy he’d been, how proud of mother and child. Fires shining brighter all over Autumn, flames so high some even believed the phoenix had finally returned.

Eris couldn’t remember a time when Beron had ever been so open to his family. He couldn’t remember his father showing love for anything at all, least of all for him or his brothers. 

Maybe that Beron had died when he finally became High Lord, maybe the females had simply embellished the story to paint a picture of a strong, healthy family leading the Court. One in which fathers didn’t go up in flames at every minor provocation, one in which children weren’t tortured and mothers did not turn a blind eye to their suffering, drowning their fear in old tales of long lost honor and glory, in religion and romance and too much wine, where brothers didn’t try to murder each other for a throne that would poison any that sat upon it. 

Unfortunately, that was not Eris’s family. 

He’d learned to live with it. It wasn’t as if he’d ever known anything else. He grew up never expecting more. He knew his place in the world, and it was standing at his father’s side, standing behind his father, standing in his father’s shadow. The War had come and gone, he had been promoted, demoted, praised and humiliated, revered and replaced. Six brothers, six rivals; four brothers, three rivals. He’d loved and he’d lost and he’d left himself behind when he went Under The Mountain, had lied and cheated and bargained and had come out on top. He had grown too big for his father’s shadow. He knew it was time. He could feel it.

All that to say that Eris was used to waiting. He had waited for over 500 years, so really, what was one more hour to that? Just one lousy hour until the plans he had set up so meticulously over decades were set into motion. 

One hour, maybe two. You could never be quite sure with Rhysand. He liked to keep Eris waiting. A power play, obviously. A cheap one, but as a High Lord he could afford it. 

Eris dragged his finger over the table. It was dusty. He tried to wipe his finger on the upholstery of the chair in front of him, which was only slightly less dusty. The whole damn room was dusty. Sometimes he wondered if the Court of Dreams, as they liked to call themselves, ever even used these halls outside of when they had to meet with him or Keir. They certainly didn’t use them often enough to have them cleaned regularly. Eris supposed it was part insult, part evidence of incapacity. Why clean these rooms when you did most of your governing in some hidden city far away anyway? 

Either way, Eris was being just as petty by insisting on meeting now, just after the solstice. Festivities in the Solar Courts often lasted nearly the whole week and Eris knew for a fact that Rhysand always dedicated more time to his family around the Winter Solstice in particular. Eris didn’t feel in the least bit guilty for interrupting it. Consider it payback for the insults, for mistreating his soldiers and for making him wait in this cold, dusty, ugly room. He didn't expect much from the High Lord and his inner circle, but that didn't mean he had to be happy with what he got. His thumb found the hilt of the Made dagger on his hip. He had no use for empty words or disloyal armies, and he certainly didn’t need Rhysand to hold his hand while he stabbed his father in the back. He had bigger plans.

By the time Rhysand finally slinked into the room it was past five. He reeked of sex, of his mate and very faintly of the godawful tea they liked to serve in the Night Court. Eris was tempted to check his pocket watch to know exactly how long the male had kept him waiting for these vain pursuits but he chose not to. Rhysand disrespected his time on purpose, so he would not let him see that it got under his skin. 

The little things were how he took back his power. Acting unaffected, refusing food or drink, to be treated as a guest, standing instead of sitting no matter how long he was made to wait so he wouldn’t have to get up to show respect when his so-called allies deigned to appear at their meetings - he had a long list of grievances to pay back in small petty gestures.

Eris took his time to greet the High Lord, slowly angling his head and then his entire body to face the High Lord and sketching a bow that was lazy yet precise. After all, he was a cauldron-damned Autumn-taught and trained courtier, and he would never be caught dead disregarding the manners that had been beaten into him since he was a little boy. There was a certain amount of respect demanded that he would give - no more than necessary though.

“Rhys,” he said smoothly, trying hard not to breathe through his nose. The smell was really quite overwhelming and he did not need to know all the details of the High Lord's night so intimately. Another grievance on his list. He forced a neutral expression onto his face. 

Rhysand inclined his head in Eris’s direction, baring his teeth in what only barely resembled a smile. Eris knew it was meant to look wrong and unsettling, but he could tell that Rhysand's heart wasn’t in it. He looked tired. Something was weighing on him, something that would either help him in this or complicate his plans. Unfortunately he didn’t have the time to spend on finding out what exactly it was.

“Eris. I have to admit I was surprised you requested another meeting so soon, seeing as you just joined us at the Solstice ball earlier tonight." Eris watched Rhysand settle into the high-backed throne at the end of the dusty table, shaking his head when his host motioned for him to sit also.

"I figured this was something you would rather discuss in private. Don’t worry, it won't take too much of your time." 

Rhysand chuckled darkly. “No, you only insist on meeting in the middle of the night for what, a chat? To what do I owe the pleasure of your disturbance?” Eris mirrored his smirk, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. A disturbance . How charming.

In this at least Rhysand had the right hunch. After Eris told him his demands he wasn’t so sure Rhysand would sleep any more at all tonight, nor enjoy the week of festivities planned in the Night Court to celebrate the Solstice and their High Lady’s birthday. There was a sort of sick satisfaction he found in that, in rendering the powerful powerless, in reminding the comfortable of how vulnerable they really were. Sometimes they needed a little push off of their high pedestals. It served to build character. In Eris’s humble opinion, he was doing them a favor.

Fifty years Under the Mountain, fifty years under the bitch queen’s thumb and still, Rhysand did not understand that he wasn’t the only one planning ahead, not the only one with tricks up his sleeve. It had taken him only two years to forget how easily one could lose everything on a bargain. Too comfortable . 

As if to prove his point, Eris felt a talon of darkness swipe lazily at his mind’s wards. They stayed firmly in place as they always did, but Eris still bristled at the half-hearted attempt. Disrespectful . Breaking into another’s mind unbidden was a grave breach of trust and generally considered an act of aggression against foreign dignitaries, especially against allies. 

Of course, such rules did not exist for the High Lord of the Night Court. Rhysand, pretending like he hadn’t just blatantly and audaciously broken protocol, stayed silent, only vaguely gesturing with his hand for Eris to go on. Performing superiority, impatience, boredom. Again, incredibly rude. Oh, Beron would have a field day with a son like Rhysand. 

Still, Eris kept his mouth shut, clasped his hands behind his back and swallowed the insult like he’d been taught to. 

"I am here to call in our bargain," he said calmly. And oh, that certainly woke the High Lord up. His eyes cleared and he sat up in his chair almost like he was pulled by invisible threads. Now he had his attention. Now they were playing the game by Eris’s rules. He had to fight back a smile as he said his next words:

“I demand the support I was promised. I want Nesta Archeron."

[saltyr3mix]

EVERYONE ELSE GO HOME YOU ARE MY FAVORITE PERSON IN THE ENTIRE WORLD FOR THE NEXT HOW EVER LONG THIS TAKES YOU TO READ. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS.

Ladies, gents, all of the above below and in between here is my rambles about new life sparrow because he has infested my mind like the skulk that infests him.

OK WERE DO I EVEN BEGIN WITH THIS GUY

Okokokokookokooo SO

We love a flawed character who has good intentions and a not so good way of showing them. he comes off as over enthusiastic and insensitive at first with his studies of hybrids. which is....just a tad bit relatable as someone often seen as energetic i can be too much for people at times so i get it.

Also everyone that drew the parallels between the way Sparrow talks about hybrids and O!Owen talked about demons is correct. it's terrifying. and if sparrow ever goes down that arc i will write incredibly angsty fanfiction about it and cry.

If you haven't already im going to point anyone reading this in the direction of my New life smp fic, Storming sacrifices on ao3 by Salty_R3mix cause thats where a lot of this next part comes from.

i head cannon that on New life when players die/switch hybrids they have to fall into a coma like state to do so and it takes time in between those shifts. Sparrow is on the longer side of these shifts for the more drastic the change the longer. to go from human to machine and then machine to skulk. thats like a solid month or two of their body just reforming and recreating. both times.

ALSO THE MOST RELATABLE THING ABOUT HIM.

HE DOESN'T WANT TO BE HUMAN.

WHICH IS JUST SO SAME BESTIE LIKE IF I LIVED IN A WORLD WHERE PEOPLE GET COOL TRAITS AND MAGICAL POWERS AND I WAS JUST BORING? YEAH I WOULD STUDY THEM AND TRY TO BE ONE TO! BOLD OF YOU TO ASSUME MY LOVE FOR FANTASY AND MAGIC ISN'T ALREADY BASED OFF THE NEED TO ESCAPE THE REAL WORLD BECAUSE IT SUCKS AND ITS BORING ANDGHYKULKNBVGVUKL

Anyway hes also insane. like, i get it. but also you could have found a away to make the process less painful im sure. hes smart. but his egarness got the best of him.

Anyway one of my favorite things to think about and debate is the 'chip' in his head. cause to me and my messed up little mind that has read well over at least 20 hours worth of sbi hybrid fanfiction in the summer of 2022. to me that just sounds like instinct. hot take but i don't think it was that big of a deal. what was wrong with the situation was prior to becoming a copper golem, Sparrow was human. if any other hybrid became a copper golem. they would be a lot less bothered by it. Sparrow was not used to that sheer level of inhumane instinct that it overwhelmed him and he just let it. t Not knowing what else to do. until eventually getting so lost and consumed by it that he had to you know....blend himself.

I miss him though. i like robots. and he was so fun to draw. i draw him all the time. just because the design i made for him is one of my favorite things ever.

OH AND SKULK SPARROW. THIS MAN. HE IS SO MESSED UP. THE NARRATIVE CAME CRASHING DOWN IN FRONT OF HIM AND SCREAMED THAT HE IS DOOMED.

I haven't seen a character so demised by the narrative that wasn't my own since outsiders Apo and maybeeeeeeee Celio form wtd. beside the point.

He is so overwhelmed and underwhelmed at the same time its iconic. one seconded hes lonely after copper literally abandoned any former relationships. the next he can hear things through the skulk. but then he brings a guy down. kills him. decides to build a gate. AGAIN. WE KNOW HOW THIS ENDED LAST TIME OWEN. WHEN HAVE GATES EVER WORKED IN YOUR FAVOR. i think it's just a cannon event for them at this point. Owen with gates and Apo with levers. (GUYS IM JOKING HERE. DON'T CARY THIS CURSE INTO PIRATES PLEASE LET THEM BE HAPPY FOR ONCE)

Ok yeah. Im really excited to watch skulk and other versions of sparrow later realize that no matter what monstrosity he ends up as. he'll never be as free as he was human again. Every hybrid comes with their own form of instinct that he will be forced to follow. some lighter than others. and hell, even if he does end up as human again the effects are still there forever lingering.

ALSO I AM HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE WITH THE 'Wait? His name is sparrow but he still answers to Owen. this clearly must have lore implications.' PEOPLE. To anyone who has ever had that thought you are the best. i've read i think 3? fics based of it and oh my word im obsessed with that idea and the different takes on it.

and here is where i come to a close. do i have more to say? probably. but my hands hurt and my thoughts are slowing in pace so if you want more feel free to ask id be overjoyed but ask another day. i mean i didn't even touch on his interactions with the other players.

i am so clearly sane and stable about this character btw. i don't know what made you think otherwise.