#finding a lover who will love and support her after everything's she gone through

[bastart13]

I caved and read Remarried Empress because of your post and honestly I strongly agree that the fandom is very nasty towards Rashta. I mean yeah, the story is very much set up to frame her as a villain no matter what she does since the Empress is the main character, but I feel like Rashta also has some strong points as a character and she's reacting like anyone would to some of the offences she receives from the Empress (imo the story rationalizes why Navier is mean towards Rashta a bit too much for my liking). Idk, I know it's popular to pit women against each other in romance stories so there's a scapegoat, but it's a bit infuriating when most of the fandom demonizes Rashta when she's literally just a gal who's out of her depth.

I am in desperate need for a story along these lines where you can have women in opposition to each other but neither are demonised. Please... I just want a story with flawed women who the fandom appreciates for their complexity....

I've said it in the comments of another post, but it always bears repeating that Rashta was born a slave! Slavery is one of the greater evils of society! She was physically and mentally scarred, sexually abused, had her baby stolen from her, and hounded by her slaver even after gaining freedom! Of course, she's doing everything she can not to go back to that! Like, I know suffering doesn't automatically justify your actions, but y'know, I don't blame her for trying to win the protection and love of literally the most powerful person in the country.

Navier has every right not to like Rashta, but dear god, the fact that slavery exists while she's the Empress is not a good look for her, and Navier is my favourite character!

If the author really wanted a story about a manipulative homewrecker getting her just deserts, she should have been anything other than a former slave. Otherwise, you need to treat both Navier and Rashta as two sympathetic characters in a morally-grey conflict.

In the end, Soveishu is the villain of The Remarried Empress. He refuses to tell Navier he thinks she's infertile. He refuses to tell her he loves her romantically and wants that relationship. He refuses to understand Navier's situation, and he puts Rashta in danger without care, abandoning her the moment his ploy to make Navier jealous blows up in his face. Unlike Rashta, he doesn't have any sympathetic motivation to justify his actions. He just wants Navier to be his obedient wife, accepting whatever he does without respecting her intelligence by talking to her. Soveishu is not treated like a good person, but frankly, the narrative doesn't treat him like the central antagonist he is. No, that spot goes to Rashta because she's a homewrecking harlot who's too poor to belong in high society, despite everything to the contrary.

#remarried empress #not art #i love my sister for tolerating my multi-hour rants on this topic #remarried empress is just *so* close to the type of story i want #i love social games #i love politicking #i love exploring women's roles in society having a focus on manipulation for personal protection #learning that the story ends with rashta dead and her children taken away from her honestly dug a pit in my chest #in a better world her ending would be living a life loving her children in peace #away from the stress and manipulation and opulence #finding a lover who will love and support her after everything's she gone through #again i love navier #but why does she get to become empress with a loving husband and children while rashta dies alone and abandoned

[reviewdiaries]

Examining that Nancy x Ace scene from 4x01

It’s been far, far, far too long since we’ve had new Nancy Drew, but they still managed to make it worth the wait. Honestly that last scene is absolutely unhinged and I am here for it. But I wanted to take a minute to break it down (because that’s my jam) and make myself feral watching it approximately 8,000 times. Fair warning it gets long, more beneath the cut.

By the time we reach that final scene Ace is absolutely done. My boy has put himself through the wringer, both by thinking he isn’t enough and that’s why Nancy wouldn’t want him, and by then thinking he’s ruined everything by trying to kiss her. This is a guy who has spent just over two months without the support of one of his closest friends (see aforementioned trying to kiss) and thinking he’s ruined his chance with the woman he’s in love with. I think the power of realising Nancy’s been lying to him fuelled his mad run all the way from the Historical Society to Icarus Hall. Because when she opens the door and he’s panting trying to get the words out, sure some of that is down to the depth of the emotion he’s feeling, but a lot of that is the fact that he has forgotten he owns a car and has straight up run to talk to her. 

And this is the most Ace we have seen Ace all episode. Every time we’ve seen him before this he’s been uncertain, unsure, completely knocked off his axis as though he has lost his true north. He’s tried to talk to Nancy, but this is Ace and he knows her, knows something isn’t right, particularly after the Lover’s Vigil when she says it’s her fault and she keeps leaning in and god he can feel it, feel something and then the glass is shattering and she’s gone. Again. Every bit of their interaction at the Vigil is instigated by her, the leaning in, the forehead touch. 

Well, almost all of it. When he first catches her as she spins across the room towards him, there’s a split second where he’s steadying her without really putting his hands on her, unsure how he’ll be received, terrified to ruin it further, of crossing some unseen line. 

And then the sheer need kicks in, the closeness of her after so long, and his hands tighten and pull her in towards him, just for a moment. Just a moment can’t hurt? Particularly when she’s looking at him like she’s drowning and he’s pulling her from the waves. And he can’t even finish his sentence when he glances down and sees the dress she’s wearing and it feels like there’s no one there but them. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like sitting at home alone, it was after twenty four hours without being able to see her he had to find her.

@livelovecaliforniadreams​ (GIF Credit)

Ace is a smart boy, he can read between the lines, and Nancy has been avoiding him so long precisely because of this, because he knows her and will see the lie in her words - she can’t even make herself believe them, every time she says they can’t she leans in a little more. And this is the tipping point, the dominos start to fall into place as he parses through what she’s saying and what she’s doing. As the jar in her hand shatters and something about the sound of breaking glass hits too close to the memory of glass shattering once before that he’s been playing over and over and over again for weeks. 

@bess-turani-marvin (GIF credit)

If they didn’t almost immediately rush out to deal with the undead he’d have remembered and gone back to that pile of broken glass earlier, but it’s hours after that he finally remembers and suddenly his compass rights itself. He doesn’t have the answers, he doesn’t understand it yet, but he knows then that he’s not wrong, and the certainty burns away that lingering doubt that’s been clouding his mind for too long and fuels that desperate run to Icarus Hall, to her, and to some answers.

He’s direct now, no more stepping around the point and trying not to scuff through lines he doesn’t see. No he trusts his instincts, and more importantly he trusts Nancy, and although everything she’s been saying has been no no no, the word she’s written screams yes, you, it’s you, you’re not in this alone.

You were lying. You do have feelings for me.

Eye contact, that slow walk in, he doesn’t know it all yet but he knows the most important thing, and he knows Nancy isn’t going to talk about it unless he pushes her in just the right way. But this is Ace, and he knows exactly how to get Nancy to talk. Don’t give her room to evade, push through the denials. Crowd into her space until she gives him the truth.

And he hands over that paper (that paper that Nancy folded oh so neatly in one crisp fold when she wrote his name (his name) but now is crumpled from being clenched so tightly in his fist as he ran there) and the sudden absence of that square of truth is enough to make his fingers flex on empty air as he fists his hand again, suddenly bereft of the solid proof he’s held to so tightly. 

@nancy-drew (GIF Credit)

He knows her handwriting, would know the sharp spike of her a’s and the slant of her e’s anywhere. He watched her protect that jar, try to cover up the pieces of it when she ran to clean up her hand, and now, as soon as she’s faced with the proof she can no longer meet his eye. Looks in his general direction, but evades his own stare knowing she cannot make the lie reach her eyes as she tries to deny it.

She walks away. He was expecting that. Given the amount of denial, of avoidance, of strangeness of the last two months, he didn’t expect her to admit it that quickly. So he follows her, he has time now, now he’s not worried about butting up against some unknown line he paces after her. Deliberate, unhurried, as he bats her feeble excuse away. And when she turns around he can see the defences crumbling, almost as though she wants him to keep pushing, keep asking, to unburden herself of this secret. 

@nancy-drew (GIF Credit)

She’s not saying anything, and that would normally unnerve him, but the pieces are finally slotting in together and he has a theory, an idea that he wants to test. The words spilling out of him as he finally takes those shattered pieces of glass and holds them up to the light. The barometer, that was weird, a coincidence (not that he believes in those anymore) but the jar as well? Now that’s almost a pattern. That’s something he can work with. You can see the smile just tracing the curve of his lip. 

@nancy-drew (GIF Credit)

He’s spent too long around Nancy and she’s rubbed off on him, and the tugging of a thread until he can see the whole picture, the tenacious worrying of a point until it makes sense, that’s him, but it’s also her, the two of them so intertwined now they’ve become a whole without ever realising it.

Both times I felt something and I know you felt it too.

@nancy-drew (GIF Credit)

Nancy opens her mouth to protest as he makes his declaration but closes it again quickly as he states that he knows she felt it too. He steps in - proximity, he’s learning, is the key. And intent, and he has enough intent for the both of them now. He is careful, oh so careful, so aware of her, for any (true) demand that he stop, but the longing in her eyes is a real thing and as he steps in she moves in closer too.

It’s a hypothesis, it’s a test, it’s a god damn it please let him be right and understand this, and wrong and let him finally (finally) kiss her. He knows what’s going to happen (maybe not exactly, but the shape of it) but there’s still that desperate longing hope that maybe this time they’ll kiss, that this time he’ll feel the shape of her lips under his, that this time he’ll be able to sink his hands into her hair and pull her close without her jerking away with that terrified look in her eyes. We’ve not seen them have this moment yet. Every hallucination he kissed her neck, never her lips. In the other timeline this crucial breathless moment of wanting turning into reality was never shown, just the aftermath. This moment, this threshold is something sacred, something special, that’s why it is this moment of near touch, of almost, of finding the shape of the boundary of the curse that the warning springs from.

@nancy-drew (GIF Credit)

But the torch glass shatters and the groan Ace lets loose, of frustration, of desperation, of want and need and longing is so nearly swallowed down as to be almost inaudible. Because he’s both got what he needed, what he wanted, and exactly the opposite. She is so close, and yet further than ever. And he would wait a hundred years for her, a thousand, but that doesn’t stop the desperate need whenever he’s close enough to touch her.

Nancy hears it though, just as clearly as she hears the glass breaking. For a moment she’s lost in the nearness of him, and she follows his movement back, desperate to remember the feel of his lips on her, lost in the memory of having done this a hundred times already. As she comes back to herself it crashes back in all the thousand reasons why they can’t, and she moves back, finally dragging her eyes to his - she owes him this much. 

@nancy-drew (GIF Credit)

He is still so close and the sadness is overflowing from her. She’s admitted her feelings to herself, to her dads, and now finally to Ace. Not in so many words, not out loud, but it’s there in the sharp spike of an a and the slant of her e. It’s in the way she leans into him like a flower searching for sunlight whenever they’re close. In the way she can’t take her eyes from him when he’s near. Struck over and over by the disjointed feel of knowing and not knowing. She knows what it feels like to run her hands through his hair, knows that he smiles in his sleep, knows the precise cadence of his stuttering breath as they kiss. And yet she also doesn’t. She is stuck in this isolated limbo and so so tired of the weight of the secret pressing her down into a defeated shell of herself. She can’t focus on anything, the overlay of the knowing and not knowing - that Ace will bring her all the world’s sorbet to make her smile, that he thinks the town loves her and he’s with them, the feel of his blood on her hands as the light vanishes from his eyes.

She’s grieving and not, and alone and not, and it all sounds so silly even now, even after all they’ve been through to say the words out loud to him.

@nancy-drew (GIF Credit)

Because we’re cursed.

It’s the sort of thing you read about in books, that happens in fairy tales. The prince and princess were cursed and true loves kiss wasn’t enough to break it. It’s enough instead to shatter glass and remind them of their place. Temperance still reminding Nancy that she controls the strings even now in death. 

Ace takes a step away and the loss of his warmth is enough to break her already fragile heart further. But he doesn’t leave, and he doesn’t doubt, and for now, that will have to be enough.

#nancy drew #nancy drew cw #nancy drew meta #nancy drew analysis #nace #cw nancy drew #nancy drew 4x01 #nancy drew spoilers #nancy x ace #nancy drew 4.01 #nancy #ace [redacted]

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

More Facts About the Goths!

Henrietta:

- Her favorite season is actually Spring!

- She’s in tune with nature, and seeing all the leaves on the trees grow back and the animals that become more plentiful just makes her so incredibly happy

- She doesn’t like animals of her own, but if her S/O says something about wanting a pet, she’s got a bad habit of giving in and getting a pet to make S/O happy

- Speaking of her S/O, Henrietta is a very devoted and loyal person

- When she loves, she loves hard, and she hates to be taken advantage of or have her heart broken

- When she’s sketching up designs for clothes and gets bored, she begs her S/O to let her draw on them

- It’s soothing to Henri and opens up bonding time with her lover

- She hates to be called anything other than Henrietta, but her S/O has all permission to call her Henri, Etta, Baby Girl, Darling

- She’s a big fan of her S/O

- Probably that girlfriend who gets a t-shirt with S/O’s face in it

- And gets S/O one with her face on it

- She enjoys walks. Down the road, up and down the beach (only at night), hell, even the walk to her car

- Owns a 2 bedroom apartment

- Drives a purple Lexus 450h she named Bettie

- Likes to write and will spend all day writing in her journal, writing in a notepad, on sticky notes

- Her penmanship is very beautiful. Small, cursive letters that lean a little to the right

- Her birthday is November 13th, and she’s a Scorpio

- She’s 5’5, and 5’10 when she’s wearing her signature heels

- Henrietta is very in tune with her S/O, she’d bend herself over backwards to please them

- Cuddly

- So fucking cuddly

- She’ll share a bottle of wine with her S/O and then tuck herself right into their side

- Has to be touching S/O every chance that she has

- Has days where she goes silent, but she always bounces back

- Is in college for fashion design, models as a side gig to help pay through college

- Very good girl and I love her so much I would fight the sun to make her happy

- (26)

Pete:

- Pete had heterochromia, but it’s just a patch of green on one of his brown irises

- He had braces late in highschool, and now just has the permanent retainer on the backside of his teeth

- He’s more often than not hunched over, but he just doesn’t realize it, so he has a few back problems

- Likes to lay on the floor in his room because it helps with his back pain but also because he just wants to

- Stargazes almost every night

- Is really into space, reads facts about space, horror stories about astronauts hearing knocking on the rocket’s exterior, knows every single constellation and planet and their moons

- Incredibly smart, made all 100’s in school and almost got a perfect SAT score (1560 out of 1600)

- Pete has ADHD, and he can barely keep still if he’s just hanging around and not doing anything

- His birthday is 4/20 (HAPPY BIRTHDAY PETE BABY ILYSM) and he’s a Taurus

- He’s 5’10, and kind of self concious he didn’t hit at least 6’

- He lives with his uncle, but his uncle is almost always gone on business trips

- His uncle is his best friend, they do almost everything together when Unc’s in town

- He likes to cook and bake, and he’s always whipping something up in the kitchen for his S/O

- Always painting, anything and everything he can think of

- Prefers to paint his S/O, he’s obsessed with them and wants to memorize every dimple, freckle and curve of their form

- Likes when his S/O does his hair, does his skin care, or when his S/O just does anything with him

- He’s not the type to be all up in his S/O’s business, but he does like hearing from them once a day at least

- Owns a PT Cruiser he’s had since we was in highschool

- He calls it “Miranda”, after a long inside joke from when all the goths hung out together

- Likes decorating with stickers, and you can normallly find stickers on his car, on his laptop, one his phone and on his Emotional Support Water Bottle ™️

- Likes to cook and help run the food shelter

- BLEEDING HEART. EMOTIONAL BABY BOY. IF S/O CRIES, HE CRIES, IF S/O MAD, HE MAD

- In tune with his emotions, and believes it’s very healthy to share how you’re feeling

- Unironically listens to 2000’s club music. His favorite is Wobble by V.I.C

- Writes poetry, and does so extremely beautifully

- He’s a nerd I love him so much he’s my little baby doll

Michael:

- Kind of an asshole, but more in the endearing way and not in the jerk way

- Michael has moments where he forgets what he’s doing and he ends up just sitting down and not doing the original task

- Has definitely ruined dinner quite a few times because of his forgetfulness

- He likes knitting, something that he picked up in highschool and perfected a few years later

- He’s always singing, making a beat, or writing down things he thinks would be good lyrics

- When he’s busy with a recording session, he will stay at the studio for hours on end until everything he and his bandmates do is just right

- Back to being an endearing jerk, his S/O is always bullied by him just so Michael can make them feel better by kissing them and giving them everything they want tenfold

- Sends flowers to his S/O’s job, or really, wherever S/O is

- Kind of possessive, not in the “Oh no” way, but in the “Okay, that’s hot” way

- He’s 6’7, and loves leaning on his S/O because he’s a shithead who thinks it’s funny to just prop up on people shorter than him

- His birthday is April 21st, which he is so excited about because that’s Robert Smith’s birthday, and that makes him a Taurus

- Speaking of, he really is as stubborn as a damn bull sometimes

- If S/O wants to do something, they have to practically beg on their knees for Michael to go and do that thing with them

- Sometimes, S/O debates whether Michael really is stubborn or he just takes pleasure in seeing them beg

- DATE NIGHTS DATE NIGHTS DATE NIGHTS DATE NIGHTS Michael’s guilty pleasure is spoiling his S/O and he never takes no for an answer when he asks if you’d like to go out with him

- Owns a black 1990 Cadillac Brougham

- He’s a really big fan of vintage cars, he just thinks they’re so unique and they looked better before the 2000’s

- Big sweet tooth, and is constantly eating something sweet

- Owns a hairless cat named Boo that he likes to dress up

- Has a secret want to own all kinds of hairless mammals, he just thinks they’re so cute

- Has scary dog vibes, but he’s honestly more like an edgy golden retriever

- Likes to pick on his S/O, just so he has an excuse to hold them in his arms and smother them with love and affection

- He’s never actually mean to his lover, but if he’s mad, he does prefer to stay away from them until he calms down

- Michael’s got some issues he needs to work on, but all he needs is a healthy support system and he’ll be good

- Would never forgive himself if he did something that actually upset you

- He’s a butthead but a sweet butthead and he deserves everything in the world I love this man

#sp goth kids #south park goth kids #sp michael #sp henrietta #sp pete #south park michael #south park henrietta #south park henrietta biggle #sp henrietta biggle #south park pete #south park pete thelman #sp pete thelman #sp pete x reader #south park pete x reader #sp henrietta x reader #south park henrietta x reader

[michelleleewise]

The Proposal

Pairing: Loki x reader (eventually)

Warnings: mentions of breakup, mentions of cheating (not Loki), stress, financial problems, slooooow burn, strangers to lovers, sugar daddy loki, eventual smut,

Summary: your life was perfect. You were in culinary school, had a nice apartment, a loving fiancée, until it all came down around you.....

Part one-

You sat on a bench in the park waiting for your friend Tanya to show up, you had a lunch date but weren't sure how to explain you really couldn't afford it. You were never one to ask for handouts and you weren't going to start now. "Y/n!" You heard, glancing around seeing Tanya waving you got up hurrying to her. "Hey, how are you?" You asked hugging her "Oh you know, the real question is how are you? After....you know." She said eyeing you. "I'm fine, I've told you. I'm more mad then anything esle." You sighed grabbing her arm to walk to the restaurant.

You were sat at a table, the waiter handing you menus before he went to grab water. "I still say we find him and burn his house down." Tanya said making you laugh "and what will that fix?" You asked "it'll make me feel better." She shrugged "well, be that as it may, I would rather not go to prison for arson." You laughed looking over the menu. "Y/n, the man left you after three years, and an engagement for his secretary! He needs taught a lesson." She said sternly. You sighed looking over the menu "Why is everything here so expensive?" You asked "don't worry about it, it's on me." She smiled.

You sighed setting your menu down "I'm most likely going to have to get a job." You said rubbing your temples. "Isn't school like eight hours a day?" She asked "yes, but I was left with all the bills, remember the nice apartment Scott insisted we get....I can't afford it on my own and my savings is almost gone." You sighed sitting back. "Not to mention the utilities and everything else, I can't even afford food." You said crossing your arms. "You know....there are....solutions." Tanya said winking. "What do you mean?" You asked leaning forward.

"Well, there are certain men who will help." She said watching your reaction. "Do you mean..." you started "Hey, if it helps pay your bills and keeps you in school why not?" She shrugged "because Tanya, I'm not sleeping with some random dude for money!" You whisper yelled making her laugh. "How do you think i survived the last year of college before I met Ben?" She asked raising an eyebrow. You sat back looking at her "look, you get your needs met, he gets his needs met, it's a win win. And you meet the guy first to discuss terms. Just...think about it ok, I know you haven't gotten any since Scott left." She said "Tanya!" You hissed "can we just have lunch please?" You asked picking up the menu.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You made it back to your apartment, moving the pillow and blanket over you flopped down sighing. You kicked up your feet scrolling through your Instagram when a picture of your ex popped up with the woman you caught him with. You wanted to scroll past but couldn't help read the caption "She said yes!" You wanted to throw your phone againt the wall, scream...cry....but all you could do was stare at the woman with your fiancée and your ring on her finger.

A few months ago that was you, In a seemingly perfect relationship with the perfect fiancée, just starting culinary school with his promises of support. It all fell apart when you came home early from an out of town convention because you missed him, only to find them together in your bed. Now he has a new woman and you have massive debt. You set your phone down rubbing the bridge of your nose, Tanya words echoing in your head. Your dream had always been to be a chef, but the way things were going there was no way you would be able to afford it now.

You picked up your phone scrolling through various sites until you found one that looked pretty legitimate. All you had to do was put in your information and if anyone was interested they would contact you, seemed simple enough. You hesitated a second, fingers hovering over the screen glancing at the pile of bills on your table. "It's a win win." Tanya's words repeated in your head, and the fact you hadn't gotten laid since Scott left, well if you were being honest well before that, the red flags were flying but you were too blind to see them.

You sat up with new determination and typed in your information adding a picture of yourself before hitting send. You sat your phone down staring at it "God what did I just do?" You asked yourself laughing. "It's fine, no ones gonna want me anyway, Scott didn't." You sighed getting up heading to the kitchen. You opened the cabinets finding a single box of crackers, the fridge being as empty as the cabinets you grabbed the box flopping back on the couch when a notification dinged on your phone. Picking it up you saw an email from an unknown contact. "Jeez, that was fast." You said to yourself opening it.

Meet me tonight at 8pm sharp at the restaurant across from Stark Tower. Wear a green dress, I will be In a black suit. ~L~

You stared at the message for a minute before you realized "shit, I don't have a green dress." You sighed. Checking you bank account you wanted to cry but you were pretty sure you had enough. You grabbed your purse and keys and headed to the closest clothing store.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You made it 5 minutes early, trying not to hyperventilate as you smoothed your dress down. It was a little tight for your liking but it was on sale so you couldn't really complain. "This way miss." The waiter said ushering you to follow him. You snaked your way through the other diners, coming to a booth in the very back where the light seemed dimmer. "Madam." The waiter said nodding before walking off. You shuffled back and forth looking around "y/n, please sit." You heard behind you, turning to see a tall man In an all black suit, his long onyx hair curling around his shoulders, his deep emerald eyes boring into sending a chill up your spine. "Was he there before?" You asked yourself smiling as you sat down.

"So y/n, should we get down to business?" He asked sitting across from you. "Um, I guess..I've never done this before." You whispered seeing him smile. "Well why don't you tell me what made you curious." He said leaning back "Well, I'm in culinary school full time, and I don't have time to work and go to school." You said seeing him nod. "And how did you end up in this situation?" He asked. You swallowed looking down "um, my...my fiancée left me for another woman, he was one the one who encouraged me to start school." You said fidgeting with your napkin.

"And I take it he took care of the finances." He asked as you nodded. The waiter came back setting down menus Oh, just water thank you." You said "I'm taking care of it y/n, order whatever you would like." He said picking up his menu. "But i.." you started "how long has it been since you've eaten?" He asked setting his menu down "my friend took me to lunch today, before that....a few days." You said squinting. He slid the menu to you "I insist." He said. You placed your order with the waiter sitting back fidgeting with the napkin in your lap. "Y/n look at me." He said sternly, you eyes shooting up to his.

"This is what we're going to do. We are going to eat and then go back to your apartment so I can see the state of things, and then we will discuss my proposal. Does that sound suitable?" He asked "y..yes....that's fine." You said staring into his eyes. "Very good, now relax I don't bite. Unless you want me to." He winked making you giggle "w..what is your name?" You asked shakely "Loki, but you will call me sir." He said sipping his drink. "Ok...sir." you smiled blushing "Mm, I think we're going to get along just fine darling." He smiled again.

💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚

@vbecker10 @lokisgoodgirl @holdmytesseract @el-zef @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @123forgottherest @lovebyloki @javagirl328 @loopsisloops @high-functioning-lokipath @immersed-in-mischief @chantsdemarins @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @midnights-ramblings @slpnbty2001 @angelaf1978 @sinsandguilt @usagishira @xorpsbane @lokifriggadottir365 @your-taste-on-my-lips @asgardianprincess1050 @cakesandtom @agentandreastark @sekaishell @dukes2581 @aniar4wniak @spork-fighter @stupidthoughtsinwriting @d1a2n389 @hypergamer7744 @buttercupbestie @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lokiprompts @daggers-and-mischief @lucylaufeyson3 @kats72 @mochie85 @commanding-officer @lokis-coffee221 @huntress-artemiss @limiworld @lulubelle814 @idfkgabby @glitterylokislut @highkeysimpingforloki @myworldgoesboomz @lonadane @budugu @cloud-of-daisies

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki angst #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson fanfiction #loki odinson angst #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x y/n #loki odinson #loki odinson x female reader #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson angst #sugardaddy #loki mcu #mcu loki #mcu fanfiction #loki marvel

[copiousloverofcopia]

It's time to celebrate my fellow Peepaw Lovers for a new installment of Potpourri is HERE!

Thank you so much for your patience with me and all your support. I hope you all enjoy!!!!

Special shoutout to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers 💗

**TRIGGER WARNING**

mentions of pregnancy loss, miscarriage

Potpourri

During his retirement, Papa Primo Emeritus falls in love with a new Sister of Sin who has suffered a tragic loss. While the new sister settles into the Abbey, Primo can’t help but grow more infatuated with her. Promising to give her everything she desires, but can he win her affections when she still can’t let go of the past?

Chapter 9: Gardening

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven’t started yet, start from the beginning HERE!

Definitely NSFW below the cut!

The sun was shining brightly on the Abbey, and it was the first time in a long time Gwen felt at peace. Getting her hands dirty as the soil sifted through her fingers. Content to feel the wind through her hair as she sat with Finn in the middle of the garden. The two of them, enjoying the warmth of the day atop their cheeks as they tended to the plants. 

In the quiet moments, Gwen’s mind was heavy with thoughts of Primo. Shortly after the Ostara celebrations he was called to leave for a Ministry wide conference in Glasgow. A situation that required at least one Papa to attend and Secondo and Terzo had gone in recent years and Copia had his hands full, they had no choice. He had only been gone for a couple of weeks and in that time, Gwen hardly knew what to do with herself. 

His absence made her realize, both unfortunately and unfortunately, how much she needed him. Finding herself looking for him in all his usual spots. Expecting to see him sitting in the confessional or working away in the deep recesses of the garden. Or even finding him when she snuck a glance over at the patch of bittersweet Forget Me Knots, he had planted for her. 

What was even more painful was staring at the empty spot in their bed. Struggling all the while to come to an answer for him. To give him resolution to the burning question he’d asked her just before leaving. A question she was still so unsure how to answer. 

“Do you think you’ll say yes?” Finn asked her, pulling Gwen out from the quiet reverie. Gwen smiled softly. Of course, Fiona was curious. The whole Abbey was waiting to hear Gwen’s answer. After all, it had been years since a Papa had taken on a Prime Mover. It was one of the most revered and honorable positions within the church. One even the most devout and beautiful of sisters rarely came to hold. Spouse of a Papa and fruit bearer of the Satanic Papacy. 

Had it been asked of anyone else; they’d have jumped at the chance. Hopeful that they would be able to carry the next in line for the Miter. The evidence of desire, most noted in those who would vie for Terzo or Secondo’s chamber key. Throwing themselves shamelessly at them during Black Mass. All clambering for the chance to have a permanent spot on one of the Papa’s arms. For Gwen, it wasn’t the same.

Her affection for Primo was true and unlike anything she had ever felt before. He had given up so much for her. Binding the two of them before Satan just to give her a second chance. Each passing moment between them, having her wishing she could bear him a child. Deep down, however, she worried that she never could. A fear that kept her from allowing herself to truly be his. 

“I—I don’t know.” Gwen answered, brushing off the dirt from her knees as she rose up and wiped the notes of sweat from her brow. Letting out an exhale, before picking up her things and heading back towards the greenhouse. 

“Gwen…please. You can’t be serious.” Finn exclaimed, trailing after her. Careful not to trip over the freshly planted creeping Phlox as she struggled to keep up her pace.

“But I am…I am not sure I am cut out for that sort of thing.” 

“You’re not cut out for that sort of thing? Gwen…are you mad?” Finn asked her, managing to finally catch up. Position herself in front of Gwen to stop her just before the greenhouse door.

“I can’t do it again—” Gwen began. Finn’s face turned soft, trying to understand where it was coming from when the two heard a voice coming from behind them. 

“Sisters? I hope I am not interrupting anything.” Mr. Saltarian asked, his eyes squinting in the sunlight as he approached. 

“Of course not, what can we do for you.” Finn smiled, Gwen turning to do the same.

“Well actually I was hoping to speak with Sister Guinevere alone.” 

“Ah, I see.” Finn began realizing what was up, “...of course. Maybe you can talk some sense into her. See you at supper.” she said as she winked at Gwen, taking her leave. As Finn disappeared in the distance, Gwen grew quiet. Deciding to continue on with her business within the greenhouse as Saltarian followed closely behind. 

“I take it you still don’t have an answer for him.” he asked, Gwen’s eyes shooting over to him a moment, feeling a bit surprised. 

“Sweet Satanas. Does everyone know?” she asked, feeling uneasy, waiting for his answer. 

“Naturally. It isn’t every day that this kinda thing happens. No matter what vapid excuse you might give about your relationship with him, everyone knows that you are together.” Saltarian replied, before taking a seat at the rod iron table.

“I know…” she admitted. 

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel and be together. It is no secret that you two are in love. It’s as plain as what's left of these gray hairs on my head.” he told her. Both of them, letting out a lighthearted chuckle as Gwen took a seat beside him. Saltarian, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. 

“You’re right. I do love him.”

“See…then it's only a matter of time before you have to face that. You don’t want to be alone in the darkness forever Gwen. I know how far you’ve come since being here.”

“I have. I just don’t think I can give him what he wants.” she explained, sniffling back as she tried her best to maintain composure.

“It's what you want too. If anyone can give it to you… it's him. Just think about it. Ok?” Saltarian asked her. His pleading eyes, begging for her to give his friend a real chance. A chance they both deserved at happiness. 

“Ok.” she smiled as Saltarian gently squeezed her hands. 

“He is coming back tonight. If I were you, I wouldn’t wait much longer to give him an answer.” he suggested, rising up from the table. Gwen nodded as he made his way to the door. Leaving her alone with her thoughts in the greenhouse. 

It was amazing to Gwen just how quickly the warm days were turning into cold nights. Sitting patiently in the old armchair just beside the fire. Snuggling up tightly in Primo’s old throw, breathing in the lingering scent of his cologne. Trying her best to wait up for him but finding herself slowly drifting into sleep. Just as she nodded off, the sound of the bedroom door creaking quietly open awakened her. 

“Papa?” she asked, easing herself upright in the chair and turning to find him standing in the doorway.

“I am sorry I woke you. I know it is late.” Primo smiled, walking towards her. Her silhouette dancing against the light of the fire. Primo, bending forward to press a soft kiss on her forehead. Taking a spot on the other chair beside her. Gwen, humming in delight, wishing this moment between them could stay just like this. Without the pressure of knowing that he was undoubtedly waiting for her to answer. 

“I know that this might not be what you want to talk about right now.” Primo began.

Oh no here it comes, she thought to herself. Swallowing back the knot forming in her throat as he continued on.

“I assume you have been thinking about what I asked before leaving?” Primo, watching as the smile began to fade from her face. The moment she had been dreading, had finally come.

“Papa…” she began, Primo looking at her as if the name was foreign to him. Correcting herself before she continued on, “Primo…I just. I just can’t. I’m sorry.” she told him, her eyes falling to the floor. Primo let out a frustrated sigh. He wasn’t having it any longer. He stood up and came up before her. Taking hold of her face in his hands as he pulled her up to look at him. 

“And why not? Tell me. I want to hear you say the reason.” he demanded.

“You know why.” she answered, the tears already welling up in her eyes. Though she knew this moment was inevitable, it didn’t make turning Primo’s proposal down any easier. The pain grew as she saw his face. His heartbreak, and her own, made her want to die.  

Primo’s anger and frustration grew. He knew she was trapped in the past still, despite everything they had been through. All he wanted was to make her happy. To help her—to love her. To give her everything she ever wanted, if she’d only let him. 

“That's not an answer Guinevere and you know it. You can’t stop living forever!” Primo snapped, dropping his hands from her face and pacing in front of the fireplace. Gwen’s eyes widening at his hostile demeanor. The fury inside him, unlike anything she had seen from him before.

“I am afraid Primo you know this…” she cried, but Primo was done. While every time before he had comforted her—coddled her. Helped her to calm the inner demons that raged inside her at the wounds of her past. Tonight his heart could no longer bear the burden. He had finally had enough. 

“Then be afraid Gwen! That is part of life. All life is made of horror and magic and happiness and despair. All of it! Let me show you that I can make it worthwhile. That I can help you—”

“You can’t help me!” Gwen snapped back jumping up from the chair. Ready to storm out of the Papal suite and find refuge in Finn’s room for the night. Her blood boiling, wanting to run from the truth.  

“Oh, but I can and I will. Be my Prime Mover Gwen. Let me love you and honor you as the wonderful being that you are. Let me spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you. Let me give you a child.” he begged her, grabbing hold of her wrist and turning her to face him. Laying out the truth for her, bitter and hot. 

“What?” Gwen responded, angry at him for forcing her to acknowledge things head on. 

“I know I can do this. I can make you happy.” 

“Primo how…how can you say such a thing to me?” she asked him, her eyes now red with tears. Her wilted mascara, streaming down her cheeks. Streaks of blackened scars, bearing the pain she felt plainly on her face.  

“Because I know it to be true. I can’t replace what you’ve lost, but I can and will make you happy. I can give you a life. A love. A family…”

“Primo I… I am sure you could give that to someone, and they would be so lucky to have it, but that someone is not me.” Gwen told him. Her hands held tight to her shoulders. Almost hugging herself as she tried everything not to fall apart in front of him.  

“Why not?” he asked, refusing to take no for an answer.

“Because.”

“Because why dolcezza?!”  

“Because I have already lost one and I will NEVER get them back. NEVER.” she sobbed, collapsing to her knees and burying her face in her hands. Primo took a deep breath and settled down beside her. His old aching joints, cursing him for his haste. 

“It won’t happen again. Not this time.” he promised. Pulling her close to his chest. Gwen’s tears, staining the fabric of his shirt as she sobbed hard against him. 

“How ? How do you know? Some spell? Some ritual? I won't be made some spectacle for the Ministry or for you to help prove something.” she hissed, deflecting the reason. Hoping to convince herself that Primo was only doing this to prove his virility. To be held in high regard for it, like his brothers had been for theirs. Hoping to produce an heir to prove a point to the rest of the Ministry. 

Primo refused to allow it. Staring at her, deep into her eyes as he confronted her. Ready to fight for the woman he loved, even if it killed him in the process. She would have to hear him out.  

“That's not at all what this is about, and you know it! There will be no ceremonies, no public rituals, no prying eyes—just the two of us. I want us to share everything, share our lives. For you to truly be mine. If we conceive, we conceive the way Lucifer intended.” he explained. Gwen turned her eyes away from him. Ashamed for her accusations, for evening having thought such a thing. 

“I don't even know why I'm listening to all this…am I that desperate.”

“No.”

“Then what then?”

“It's because you love me too cara. You felt it just as I did, the moment we saw each other there was something sparked between us.” Primo proclaimed, smiling at her as she struggled to stop crying. 

“Primo, I don't know what to say.”

“Say you will let me. Say you will allow me to give you everything I can. The most intimate parts of myself.”

“Heh…You act as if you haven’t given those to me already… or plenty of other sisters I imagine.” Gwen scoffed as Primo picked her up in his arms. Catching her off guard as he carried her with youthful ease to their shared bed. Looking deep into her eyes once more and laying her down gently. 

“No I haven’t. I have taken many lovers, sure…but I have never spilled my seed freely inside them. Never before had I been certain enough to allow it. Certain enough to—”

“To what Papa?” Gwen cried, swallowing back as she watched the look of desire and passion growing steadily in Primo’s eyes.  

“To become a father. I hadn't even thought of it before you and now all I can think of is you. You cara. Spending my every breath whispering your praises. Touching you, kissing you, being inside you. Watching and waiting for your belly to grow round with life–a gift I want to give you more than anything. I want you to be my Prime Mover. To be mine always.”

“I won't listen to this.” Gwen said, turning to face away from him as he hovered above her on the bed.  

“Have I not already proven I would give my own life for you. Am I not bound to you for Lucifer’s sake?”

“I didn’t ask for that!” 

“No…no you didn’t, but I cannot bear to think of a world without you in it. Without that smile that ignites fire within my soul.” Gwen turned back towards him. Knowing that she wanted him, just as much as he wanted her. It was the fear of her past holding her back. The fear that she would relive the worst moments of her life again.  

“Primo…I do love you, but I just can’t.” 

“You can and you will amore. I promise to make you happy, and I have never broken a promise. I don’t intend on doing it now.” he vowed, bringing his lips to hover above hers. 

“Papa.” she said breathily as she stared at him. Her love for him, slowly melting away the fear. Seeing the love in his eyes. Knowing that every word spoken was true. Gwen, beginning to think that as much as it scared her to move on, the thought of being without him might scare her even more. 

“Sister.” he uttered just as she rose up to kiss him. Lips locked together. Soft and sweet like the honeysuckle from the garden. The taste of one another, so passionate and whole. Gwen’s legs wrapped around him after Primo’s hands made quick work of unbuttoning his pants. Throwing them to the floor, his body was ready and hard for her.  

“I need you.” she moaned, caught off guard by the sound of him tearing off her panties. The cotton, shredding easily in his grasp and his wandering fingers went traveling over the mound of her sex. 

“Amore.”

"Ah…ahh..." Gwen moaned into their kiss. The heat between them was growing quickly and before they knew it the rest of their clothing had fallen to the wayside. Primo carefully slid his fingers inside her. Gwen, moaning and writhing as she relaxed her legs open for him. Allowing him more access to her as he used her slick from his fingers to wet himself. Pressing the head of his cock against her entrance. Nudging her open before slowly pushing deep inside.

“Oh Gwen.” he groaned, reaching the back of her insides. Carefully moving in and out as Gwen held tight to his shoulders. Her legs now once again wrapped around his waist as her cunt throbbed intensely inside with every thrust of his hips. The two of them, losing themselves in the moment of passion between them. 

It was true they were in love, and nothing was going to change that. Not Gwen’s fear, not Primo’s age, not anything that the world could throw at them. At this moment it was just them. Locked together as one.

Primo was pounding steadily away as she squirmed beneath him. Her toes, curling and nails dug deep into the flesh of Primo’s shoulder as she came over and over again. Overwhelmed with the sensations of lust and love. Primo, too, was engulfed in it. Swimming in ecstasy as he felt her fluttering around him. Trying his best not to cum with each pulsation inside her.

He was giving it his all, waiting for the right moment. Moaning and grunting as he was determined to send Gwen over one last time. He knew it had come as her body once more melted beneath him, giving way to yet another orgasm—exhausted and languid. 

“Do you accept me?” He asked, driving himself harder and harder inside her. Determined to get as deep as he could. She was shaking around him, moaning and whimpering as her body locked tightly on to him. Sensations rushing through her, her soul unfolding for him like the petals of a flower. His words barely discernible over the salacious sounds of their sex and her moans. 

“What?” She asked, breathy and weak in pleasure.

“Do you accept me? Will you allow me to cum inside you? Give you what we both want?” Primo asked her. His gaze fixed on her as he tried desperately not to cum. Waiting for her to consent. She was overwhelmed, feeling the tears pricking once again at her eyes. Gwen wanted it all—comfort, pleasure, a life where happiness still existed, a baby, and though she had only now fully admitted it, she wanted Primo. 

“Yes…ah!” She cried out. Primo, bucking hard inside her, his pace quickened and breathing ragged. Tangled up together in a mix of sweat and desire. Both completely lost in the moment of rapture between them. 

“I love you.” Primo said, letting out a guttural moan. His hips, stuttering as he grabbed tightly unto hers. Pushing himself in as far as he could before pouring out everything he had. Filling her deep into her core, and concentrating that it happened exactly as intended. 

“I—I love you too.” she cried. The two of them, holding on to one another a moment before Primo finally collapsed beside her. Gwen, falling fast asleep in his arms, leaving Primo awake and alone with his thoughts. Feeling exhausted but filled with joy and excitement with the knowledge of what they had finally done. 

#Potpourri #Primo x gwen #primo x oc gwen #primo x sister of sin #Primo x Guinevere #Primo #papa i #papa emeritus i #ren writes #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfics #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction

[paracosmic-murdock]

Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 16: "Danser est un jeux dangereux"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: It has been two years since your secret was exposed and you had to leave London. Two years with deep buried misery and in which you missed everything you used to have. However, neglect, novelties, and letters made sure to give you more than one reason to return to claim someone who is as rightfully yours as your estate and your people: Benedict Bridgerton.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, mutual pining, (kinda???) enemies (fake, this is just pride) to lovers (surely), bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: The Queen's Ball finally arrived, and with that, another encounter with the Ton. Unwanted or not, quite the encounter: Benedict, a friend from the past, and, of course, Miss Prince... However, this time you had a plan that would give you the upper hand for long enough.

Word count: 2.4K

❁ Series masterlist

❁ mila's paracosm (main masterlist)

"It is…"

"Absolutely stunning."

"Indeed." you agreed.

You and Lady Danbury were in your bedchambers as you tried on the ballgown the Queen had sent for you.

"She certainly is rooting for you and Mr. Bridgerton."

You chuckled. "She is quite invested. There is a high likelihood that she is more invested than us altogether."

"It would not surprise me," she mentioned. "The Queen wants a victory for herself and something to do in that lengthened free period of time in her hands."

"I suppose our interests have aligned this one time."

"Very," Lady Danbury added. "You look fabulous, my dear."

"Thank you for saying that," You smiled. "Is it enough, you think?"

Lady Danbury nodded, approaching you with an apprehensive glance. "If Mr. Bridgerton makes you feel like you are not enough for him to like you, then he is the one that isn't enough."

"With all due respect, my Lady, it seems like something easy for you to say," You sighed. "You are an accomplished woman, you have lived a life, I am certain, but I… I am on the verge of having nothing. If it does not work with Benedict, I must find another husband before-"

She noticed you stopped yourself and frowned. "Before what?"

You sighed. "Before my Grandfather tells the King of France about what I did. Then, he will forget all about my Father's will, say that he would be disappointed in me; I will be sleeping under a bridge in a heartbeat right after that happens."

"My child, I am so incredibly sorry that this is happening to you," She pursed her lips. "But do not dare believe we will ever let you sleep under a bridge!"

"Figure of speech, I think," You gave her a thankful smile. "It means so much to me to know that I have your support."

"You will never not have it, dear."

You entered the venue next to Lady Danbury, your arms intertwined. A graceful walk, characteristically yours, accompanied your presence and caught the Ton's attention.

"All eyes are on us."

She chuckled. "On you, my child. Leave me out of it."

"Is this what abandonment feels like?" you chided.

"It might as well be."

You shook your head with an amused smile.

"My apologies for the intrusion," the gentleman said, giving Lady Danbury a respectful glance and you a comforting one. "May I have this dance?"

You looked at Lady Danbury, and she nodded, letting go of your arm. You took Cortez's hand he was offering you and followed his lead.

"It is nice to see you again."

You sighed. "Likewise."

"I'm sorry for the scrutiny you have gone through," he commented. "I met you both ways, and I can say first hand that you deserved better than being exposed so ruthlessly. You are a very talented artist, regardless of your gender."

You felt your cheeks go warm. "Thanks, Mr. Cortez."

"Lord," he corrected you. "My Father, he passed."

"I am so incredibly sorry, my Lord," You looked at him with sympathy as you danced. "I wish for everything to go well at your home. How are your Mother and your siblings?"

"We are all fine, it was almost two years ago," he replied, letting out a small laugh. "In other circumstances, Antoine would have been getting drunk with me and talking about the cycle of life."

"As long as chaperoned, Lady Y/N can do that as well," you offered. "We were… friends, right?"

He chuckled. "Very good friends. I would have trusted you if you had told me it was a lie without question, and I would have kept the secret without hesitation if you had confided in me."

"I am thankful for that, and I hope we can remain friends."

"You will always be welcome in our home," he promised. "One of my sisters, Maria, advocated for you fiercely. As if she knew the whole situation; I am sure she would love to meet you someday."

"I would be more than pleased to," you answered. "Would you have introduced her to Antoine?"

"Oh, absolutely not." You both laughed.

And once that dance was over, you saw him leave with a smile.

You returned to Lady Danbury's side, then.

"How did it go with Lord Cortez?"

"Well enough, my Lady."

"Did you know him from before?"

You sighed. "He was both my suitor and friend from the Academy."

Lady Danbury laughed. "My child, you have one of the most coveted gentlemen of the Ton wrapped around your gloved finger."

"What?" You frowned.

"That man will come to my house the day after tomorrow at the latest with flowers for you and an invitation, I assure you."

"No way, he will not!" you exclaimed.

"Shall we place a bet?"

You nodded. "We shall."

Both you and Lady Danbury laughed until a collective presence joined you. You smiled politely.

"It is lovely to see you all tonight." you greeted them.

"Us as well," Anthony replied. "You two ladies look absolutely ravishing."

"Why thank you, Lord Bridgerton." Lady Danbury smiled.

Colin approached you with a knowing look. "May I have this dance?"

Your eyes met Benedict for the first time that night, and the look of disapproval in his face made you smirk internally.

"Of course, Colin." You smiled, taking his hand and following his lead.

"I've not gotten a chance yet to let you know how glad I am that you're in London again."

You nodded. "I am most thankful, Colin; and I am glad to be back as well."

"Did you miss me?" he joked.

"Of course I did," You laughed. "Now, did you miss me?"

"I believe that, only second to Ben, I am the one who missed you the most."

"Eloise would beg to differ."

Colin chuckled. "My sister, she doesn't truly count."

"How so?" you asked with a smile.

"She just does not, no reason at all."

You shook your head in amusement and turned around, catching sight of Benedict and her.

Her.

You despised her with every inch of yourself. You did not want her near him, for Benedict was yours, was he not? He made sure you knew that, he told you he was yours in more ways than one… He did by making love to you once and twice, he did by telling you he loved you, he did by asking you to be his wife. He was not hers, even if she were to be his wife instead of yourself, Benedict Bridgerton would always belong to you and you only. And even if you were to spend the rest of your life by someone else's side, you still would have been his. He is yours and you are his, always and forever.

That must be why you parted from Colin's side before the dance even ended and rushed to join them. The smile you dedicated to Miss Prince was theater-worthy, you knew.

"Isn't this evening lovely, Miss Prince?" you asked politely, giving Benedict a longing stare.

She nodded. "It sure is, my Lady."

"Quite lovely," you repeated, looking around. "I, uh… I have heard you are the novelty of the town, am I right?"

"I am, yes." she confirmed.

"I sort of am, as well," you mentioned, seeing how Benedict rolled his eyes beside you. "This morning I thought of it, Miss Prince… You and I are in almost a similar position currently, so it is barely logical that we stand together."

"Y/N…" Benedict muttered under his breath, apprehension joining his voice in delivering the message: don't you dare.

You could not possibly care less.

Eloise watched from afar beside her mother and Lady Danbury.

"Is she being friendly to Miss Prince?" the youngest questioned.

"She is such an unstoppable force," Lady Danbury noted. "What on Earth could she have in mind?"

Lady Bridgerton sighed. "She certainly is a determined young lady."

"I agree!" Miss Prince exclaimed, excited to maintain relations with a figure like you.

"Would you like to join me as I pace around the ballroom?" you offered. "I should greet the Queen and thank her for having us tonight."

Benedict let out an annoyed sigh.

"Oh, I'd be honored!" she replied, being it hard to believe for her that you could greet the Queen just like that. For the sake of her curiosity mostly, she agreed and walked beside you after nodding at Benedict to inform him that she would take her leave.

"Are you and Benedict close, Miss Prince?" you asked, swallowing the discomfort it would cause you to hear the answer.

"Quite," She blushed. "I am sure we will be engaged to be married before the end of the month."

You nodded. "I hope everything goes well between you and Ben," you added, using the nickname that denoted closeness you had never said before. "He is the sweetest man I have ever had the pleasure to meet. Trust me, there is nothing more enchanting than the look of longing in his eyes. The spark of light his loving smile turns on in your heart. His assuring words full of adoration, the enamored stolen glances… If you have all of those you are most fortunate."

Miss Prince frowned. "H- how… how do you know that?"

"You surely cannot believe you are Ben's first round," you warned her. "If you are curious enough, why don't you join me at the modiste tomorrow afternoon to help me pick a new dress? I shall tell you meanwhile."

She nodded. "You know him very well, do you not?"

"You couldn't imagine, Miss Prince," you replied. "Why the question, if I may ask?"

"I was wondering if you think he would make a fine husband," she said. "Could his art be enough to provide for me? For our children? To have a nice home where we could host balls and dinner parties?"

You frowned. "Well, Miss Prince, he is a Bridgerton. I am not sure whatever you could be looking for that makes you believe he would not be enough…" You looked her up and down, making sure you were sending the corresponding message. How could she even dare speak that way about him? "... for you."

"I didn't mean it like that…" she was quick to defend herself, however baseless her arguments would be.

You hummed. "How did you mean it, then?"

"Uh, I might as well tell you tomorrow over pretty dresses, right?"

"By all means," you said. Cynical. "A fair amount of time to make up your mind. I respect that, Miss Prince."

Your mood changed as you approached the Queen.

"You look absolutely astonishing in that dress, my child," she smiled widely. "It certainly suits you very well, it is one of my best presents to date."

Around you, everyone heard the Queen's words and looked at you, the Queen's protégée.

"I am most thankful, Your Majesty," You smiled. "Certainly the most beautiful dress I have ever tried on."

"It suits you gracefully!" she exclaimed. "No one apart from me looks nearly as breathtaking as you!"

"Oh, I could never dare be compared to your gracefulness, my Queen," you commented. "Thank you for saying that, nevertheless."

She smirked. "Enjoy your evening, my Lady."

"Well, the Château de Germolles is owned by my cousin, but every other property that belongs to the Dukes remains mine," you said, sipping your champagne. "The two of you are most welcome to stay in any of my homes… As I am aware you enjoy the countryside, Anthony, allow me to offer the Château du Clos de Vougeot."

"The vineyards are there if I'm correct."

"They are indeed," you confirmed. "I would be honored to welcome you at home."

"Only if I am guaranteed wine for dinner." Anthony joked and Kate rolled her eyes.

You laughed. "For breaking the fast, even."

"When can we go?"

"Right now if you wish."

"What are you laughing about?" Lady Bridgerton interrupted your conversation as he reached you along with Benedict.

"Oh, Y/N was inviting me and Kate to spend a season in France."

"There are enough rooms for each Bridgerton to sleep in... Eight is perfect if we include Daphne and Simon, so all of you are welcome."

No one paid real attention to the calculations except for Benedict, who frowned.

Each... Mother, Anthony and Kate, himself, Colin, Daphne and Simon, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, but how about Hyacinth?, he counted.

"Aren't you undercounting?"

You shook your head with a suggestive smirk. "I guarantee you I am not."

Realization hit him, and he suppressed a smirk. You meant he wouldn't need a room.

"You know what? I will honor that offer, if you allow me to join you once you return to France." Violet interrupted the suggestive conversation everyone was starting to comprehend finally.

Anthony and Kate looked at each other with a knowing smile, trying not to laugh at your suggestion of sharing your own room with Benedict.

"Of course!" you shrieked. "I shall show you the entirety of France."

"We should all join you, actually," Kate smirked, looking at Benedict, who was staring at you without an ounce of shame as his brain took your commentaires in. "Don't you think, Benedict?"

He was taken out of his trance by the mention of his name, not knowing whatever Kate meant or anything else that was mentioned during the conversation. So he only managed to say yes.

"That is wonderful!" Lady Bridgerton grinned. "You know what? You two must dance."

"Uh, Mother…" Benedict tried to deny, but you were quicker than him.

"You are right, Lady Bridgerton, dancing would be suitable."

He pursed his lips reluctantly, but ultimately took your hand in his and walked somewhere you could dance.

"Wasn't dancing a dangerous game?" he asked after clearing his throat.

"Well, I like taking my chances. Plus, we're supposed to have a conversation, don't we?"

"Not like this, no." he whispered.

"Then how?" you questioned him. "This is a perfect opportunity."

"I shall visit you tomorrow morning at Lady Danbury's so we can speak privately."

You looked each other in the eyes when he said privately and you let out a soft sigh, one that showed your mind had taken a turn, and, judging by the whimper you let out, Benedict could guess the question he would ask had a response he would enjoy, especially after what you had implied about him not needing his own room.

"What are you thinking about?"

You gave him a suggestive glance and kept dancing with him, and once the dance was almost over, you replied in a whisper, so close to his ear that your hot breath caused goosebumps. "About all the things we used to do in private."

taglist: @yentroucnagol @crimsonincursive @czarinera @uwumd @omgnctchina

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton x you

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

A Crazy Idea [Part Two]

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Pairing: Daniel Kwan x Female Reader, Jackson Avery x Female Reader, Benson Kwan x Female Reader

Characters: Daniel Kwan, Jackson Avery, Female Reader, Catherine Fox, Benson Kwan

Word Count: 1967 // Rating: Teen & Up

Summary:  Jackson’s back and he’s finding he might have been replaced in more ways than one.

Tags/ Warnings: Confessions of Love, Jealousy, Friends To Lovers, Exes, Ex Lovers, Fighting, Arguing, Operations,Past Relationships, Open Wounds,

Notes: okay so i’ve not watched the new series so I don’t know kwan that well and apparently his names changed?!? but I stuck with Daniel anyway. Hope this is okay! x

Part two as requested! 

Tags: @h-a-j-i-m-e-ru

PART ONE // PART TWO

As the elevator dinged open Y/N sighed and trudged inside. This was her fifth shift in a row and none of them had gone swimmingly. She had had train wreck patients, countless surgeries and to top it off Daniel had avoided her like the plague so she didn't know if she was coming or going with him. The only saving grace was that Jackson was still in the hospital though that was going to change today as she was sure he would be fit enough to discharge. She went to the attending's lounge and got ready for her day before she headed to her floor to get her list of patients. When she arrived Daniel was standing by the nurse's station with a plethora of charts in his hands. He was looking over one he was holding, his brow furrowed over whatever he was reading but it uncreased as she approached and stood next to him. He looked up, his face falling for a second before it quickly fell into a neutral position. 

‘Y/N,’ he greeted coolly. Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at the indifference in his voice.  ‘Blue,’ she greeted. She wanted to say more. To tell him about the feelings she had been mulling over for the past few days but she couldn’t. He went back to charting and she could feel the nurses at the station watching them. She was sure they didn’t know anything about them but their being nosy was enough to stave off the topic.  ‘Are you on my service today?’ she asked hopefully.  ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I’ve already prepped the ward round. Let’s get started huh?’  ‘Yeah,’ she mumbled and then he was off walking down the corridor to their first patient making her almost have to jog to keep up. Their first couple of patients were relatively simple. He ran through their new stats and figures and examined them for her. Everything was running smoothly though there was no banter or chatter between them. 

‘I want an MRI Head for her,’ Y/N mentioned as they left Mrs Larson’s room and moseyed down the corridor. ‘ ‘But her CT didn’t show anything,’ Daniel said.  ‘I know but there’s something..off about her. I don’t know what but my guess is she’s definitely had some sort of stroke,’ Y/N said. ‘I don’t know she seemed fine to me,’ Daniel mumbled. ‘Yeah because she was flirting with you,’ Y/N giggled. ‘Oh so she must have had a stroke to be flirting with me?’ he scoffed.  ‘No, that’s not what I meant-’ Y/N started but Daniel wasn’t listening he was making a beeline into their next patient's room. Y/N sighed and entered behind him as her eyes took in her next patient. Jackson. 

He was packing things into a bag but he turned around as they entered and stopped. He pushed the bag aside and sat down on the bed as he said, ‘hey.’ ‘Hey,’ she said looking at him and then glancing at Daniel who seemed to be enthralled in the chart. She didn’t mind this. Mainly because Jackson knew all about the awkwardness that they had been having after she had acted on his words. He threw her a look and she shook her head slightly. Jackson nodded but before they could go any further Daniel spoke, ‘Jackson Avery, 41, was admitted three days ago with a hand laceration. Had debridement, wash out of the wound with a repair of damaged tendons and ligaments. Broken scaphoid and trapezium supported with a half cast to hand. Inflammatory markers improving with antibiotics.’ ‘Thanks Blue,’ Y/N said with a smile which wasn’t returned.

‘So, am I gonna be allowed to bounce today or not?’ Jackson smirked.  ‘Your mother getting on your nerves that bad huh?’ Y/N chuckled.  ‘I’m confined to one room,’ Jackson said, ‘she’s not had such an easy target in a while.’ ‘Well, let’s see,’ she said, ‘Blue do you want to assess the wound?’  ‘You don’t want to do it yourself?’ he asked with confusion and a hard edge to his tone.  ‘This is good teaching,’ Jackson said jumping in before she could speak. Daniel’s eyes narrowed but he nodded and took a seat beside the bed as Jackson held his hand out. 

‘Wound looks fine, sutures are intact,’ Daniel said.  ‘And?’ Y/N said looking at Daniel who glanced at her. ‘And?’ he said.  ‘And I’m five days post op and the sutures are on my hand,’ Jackson said.  Daniel looked at him with a sulk on his face but didn’t answer, ‘so because the skin is so thin the stitches can be removed because the healing will be complete skin deep. Jeez have you been teaching this kid or not?’ ‘I’m not a kid,’ Daniel said.  ‘I’m sure he knew it’s just slipped his mind,’ Y/N said coming towards Daniel who leapt up out of the seat.  ‘I don’t need you to defend me,’ Daniel said.  ‘I’m not,’ Y/N reasoned looking at him. ‘Course not,’ he scoffed.  ‘Hey,’ Jackson said warningly, ‘she’s just trying to help.’ ‘Well, I don't need her to. And I don’t need her pretending her students are better than they are just because she wants to impress you,’ Daniel said almost squaring up. Jackson stood up facing him the pair of them seething. 

‘She’s your superior,’ Jackson said, ‘you should show her some respect.’ ‘Guys,’ Y/N said but neither of them was taking any notice of her. ‘Oh, are you gonna make me? What are you going to do? Call your mommy,’ Daniel smirked. Then without warning, Jackson pushed Daniel hard.  Shock ran through him but as he realised what had happened he leapt forward to shove Jackson back. Y/N was in the middle of them in a flash. ‘Cool it!’ she shouted but they were only watching each other.’ ‘Do that again and I will not be held responsible for what happens to you,’ Daniel said. ‘Oh yeah,’ Jackson challenged.  ‘Blue knock it off!’ Y/N said.  ‘You’re taking his side?’ he baulked. ‘She is because you’re being a jackass,’ Jackson said. ‘I’m not taking anyone’s side,’ Y/N said with exasperation, ‘just trying to get you both to remember you’re in a hospital! You’re working and you’re a patient for god's sake. You need to knock it off.’

Her voice was loud now and it had seemingly been enough to draw attention as a nurse appeared at the door wondering what was happening, ‘everything okay?’  ‘Fine Sarah,’ Y/N said.  ‘Yeah peachy,’ Daniel said moving out of the way. Sarah nodded and left the door but Daniel was soon behind her.  ‘Where are you going?’ Y/N asked.  ‘What do you care?’ he said and then he was gone. When she turned around Jackson was watching her with a stony expression.

‘You're a terrible best friend, you know that?’ she said as she shoved him down onto the bed, sitting down on the chair in front of him. ‘Me?!’ he scoffed as she started to set up a tray to remove his stitches ‘Yeah, you,’ she said as she wiped his hand clean, ‘you know we’ve been having problems.’ ‘And that’s my fault how? He was being childish,’ Jackson said.  ‘And you shoved him!’ Y/N said shrilly.  ‘Because he was being rude! You don’t deserve that. In front of me or anyone.’ ‘I don’t think he would've done it in front of anyone else,’ she said truthfully, ‘I think he’s a little jealous.’ ‘What he thinks you're in love with me?’ Jackson said. She hadn’t exactly told him that part of the story. ‘No,’ she said, ‘but he knows we’re close. And lately, he and I haven't been.’ ‘Because he confessed his undying love and you didn't say anything,’ Jackson smirked. ‘No! I just…I just wasnt ready for it then. And he’s avoided me ever since. I mean I wasn’t going to tell him I love him at the nurse's station was I?’  ‘You love him?’ Jackson asked. Y/N looked at him startled. She hadn't even noticed the words had come out of her mouth but the more they ran through her brain the more she confirmed it. She did love him. She hadn’t seen it before. They’d always been close but since he had started working at the hospital it had shifted and subconsciously she had held back, scared it would ruin everything. 

‘Yeah, I do,’ she said with a small smile.  ‘Then what are you doing here then?’ Jackson asked.  ‘You’re hand,’ she started but he shook his head.  ‘I can take these sutures out myself,’ he said, ‘as long as you promise I can go home I’ll do anything…I’d probably do a better job anyway.’ ‘Har har,’ Y/N said standing up. ‘So I can go home?’ Jackson said.  ‘Sure can. I’ll tell the nurses later,’ she said giving him a quick hug, ‘I’ve got more important stuff to do.’

Jackson nodded and watched as she took off into the corridor in the second search for Daniel. That first day she hadn’t found him but today she was determined. She looked everywhere until it dawned on her where he might be. Finally, she ended up in the basement corridor and found him sitting on the discarded beds that lined it. He looked up as she entered and scowled but he didn’t move as she came to sit beside him. They were silent for a moment before she said, ‘are you okay?’

‘What do you care?’ he asked. ‘I do care,’ she sighed, ‘you know I do.’ ‘Just not as much as I want?’ he questioned looking at her before his eyes turned to his hands which were resting on his knees. ‘You don’t know what I want,’ she said. He looked at her confused but didn't speak which made her sigh, ‘you never gave me a chance Blue. I broached the topic because I was blind. So blind. And Jackson opened my eyes-’ ‘Good old Jackson Avery,’ he scoffed. ‘Yes! Good old Jackson Avery because he pointed out what was blatantly obvious. You have feelings for me. And I’d ignored it because we’ve been friends forever and I didn’t want to ruin anything. But since he pointed it out I realised that I feel the same. And I’m sorry that it wasn’t the big love story you wanted when you said what you said. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be on your level right away but that doesn’t mean I'm not there now.’ ‘How do I know that’s true? That you’re not just forcing yourself to feel that way?’ he said with sadness lacing his voice. ‘Because you told me that the idea of us isn’t that crazy to you. And you’re right. It’s not crazy. It’s right…natural,’ she said, ‘I want to try this Blue. 100%. And if it doesn’t work out then fine…because I never want to lose you. Either way.’

Daniel seemed to take in her words for a moment and then he leaned in and kissed her gently. Her hands cupped his face as she kissed him back. A flutter ran through her stomach as he held her close. Then his pager sounded. He sighed and pulled back with a frown as he pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it.

‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘duty calls.’ ‘I get it,’ she said, ‘come on we’ll go together.’ ‘Okay,’ he said as they climbed off the bed. As they started to walk he slipped his hand into hers causing her to look up at him with a smile.  ‘Sorry we wasted our first kiss,’ he said. ‘I don't think you can waste a kiss,’ she replied, ‘not when it’s worth the wait.’

#my writing #a crazy idea #daniel kwan #daniel kwan x reader #daniel kwan fic #blue kwan #daniel blue kwan #benson kwan x reader #benson kwan fic #benson kwan #jackson avery #greys anatomy #greys anatomy fic #requested #requested fic

[whispers-of-anarchy]

The world around you is dying. You failed your duty to your people. You and you alone have doomed your world to a slow and painful death. There is nothing worse than the fade into oblivion. No one will remember you. 

Not even the gods who raised you from the dirt, who you desperately prayed to, will weep over your ashes. There is no one left to mourn. 

You, who worshiped the ground they walked upon, you, who bent down on bloodied knees to beg for a second chance. You, who gave their life in a futile attempt to stop the end of the world, shall be given another chance. Do not squander this, dear. For the same mistakes can be made, and this will be your end once again if you do not tread lightly. 

-------------------

The winds of fate have stayed their hands to allow another to interfere. Whether Rebel or Royal, it is your destiny as Heir to step forward and defend your people. We shall meet once again on the fields where the sun never sets. So for now...

It is time for you to wake up, Heir.

Whispers of Anarchy is a high fantasy interactive fiction/cyoa where you get the chance to live the life of royalty, or as a rebel, and try to stop your homeland from falling even further towards disaster at the hands of its cruel king. Depending on your choice of backstory, you will meet a vast cast of characters and have unique interactions with them based on your past.

In the dead of winter, the yearly Ball shall occur as always. Whether you are the Royal agonizing over the latest choices of fashion, or the Rebel plotting the biggest heist in Mithriel’s history, fate will make its play that night. 

Will the people fear what you could become as the Royal? Will they ponder what to make of you as the Rebel? And, perhaps, is there more at play in the darkness of your realm than a Regent gone mad?

Demo: TBA

Choose your pronouns and customize your appearance to your liking.

Befriend and/or date from between eight potential romantic/platonic options with varying backgrounds.  

Pick between 5 different races which will lead to various different abilities and customization options in game. 

Choose between two backstories: The Rebel or the Royal. Both feature the same character, but who grew up vastly different from the other. (Game wise, you will play the chosen background for the first few chapters and encounter only 3-4 members of the ROs, before the main plot appears)

Join a rebellion. Choosing whether you really support the movement is another matter. Will you throw yourself headfirst into fighting, or stubbornly refuse to help every step of the way? 

Discover what caused the Seize: the near complete and utter collapse of your country that threw everything into chaos, even 15 years after.

Decide what’s more important: the safety of your people, family, and friends, or reaching the broken throne at all costs. 

Featured tropes: childhood friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, secret royalty, second chance at love, forbidden love, and more. 

Seeren (She/They)

The Court Mage: A vibrant young elf who joined the Mad Regent’s court at a young age as the apprentice to the court Mage. Her past is shrouded in magic and mystery, and those who question it usually are found encased in ice. Up front they seem rather bubbly, if a touch naive and ditzy. But if you were to peer into her office and manage to dig through the clutter and general disarray, you might find yourself standing in the middle of a vast alchemical array more intricate than those of the college.  

Astha (She/Her)

The Guard Captain: a seemingly stoic dragonborn who wears her duty as a shield, and maintains a professional distance from everyone, even her own fellow guards. She inherited the position from her aunt after the older woman stepped down for personal reasons. Little is known of Astha’s personal life beyond the walls of the castle. Though if you were to ever stop to watch the young woman leave, you might see a well-worn journal clutched in hand. 

Aenon (They/Them)

The Ambassador: the frightened mer who has been kept captive inside the castle walls since the Seize event 15 years prior to the story. They hardly ever step foot in the halls, instead spending most of their time sequestered in the quarters that had once belonged to their elder sibling, who held the original Ambassador position. The staff whisper about haunting songs that echo through the halls that only occur in the deep of the night, when most folk are asleep. There is sympathy for the hostage Ambassador, and there is disdain. Yet, this seems to matter little to Aenon. An examination into their hidden diary would show that their only motivation is to get back home. At any cost. 

Ril (They/Them)

The Pretender: a shapeshifter who was found on the steps of the castle years before the Seize by the former Queen. She raised them as her own child, and when she disappeared, they were lost. They took up various jobs within the castle, before being recruited by the army and employed as a spy, in both the castle, and out in the kingdom. If the Royal is present, they act as the Heir’s doppelganger. This puts them in both a place of great power, and great danger. Surely they wouldn’t harbor any kind of resentment against the throne, right?

Vanerith (He/Him)

The Runaway: a shy, almost stricken young demon who fled into the arms of the rebellion after escaping the hands of slave traders who attempted to sneak him out of the kingdom. Despite assurances, he feels as though he owes the rebellion, and has pledged his life to the cause, for however long it lasts. With a surprising fever, the demon proved vital to several key missions that would put the rebellion steps ahead of the Regent. Question is... where did the demon come from? He is almost too powerful. And he will rarely speak of his past beyond what has already been said. Just what is he hiding?

Ether (They/She/He)

The Knight: a winged aeling who spent most of their childhood training to join the honored ranks of the royal knights, only to find those hopes dashed at a young age. An unfortunate accident left them blind in one eye and with an injury to their wings that left them grounded for the rest of their life. They left their childhood home soon after recovering and disappeared into the unknown in search if adventure. Upon their return to society they finagled their way into the ranks of the knights through sheer effort and talent, rising fast despite the loss of their greatest asset. They seem very open to those who meet them, but are they truly so? Just what happened in the years after they left their home? Why do they bear so many scars?

Kida (He/Him)

The Ranger: an outspoken naga who joined the rebellion, spurred only by revenge. In the political unrest and anarchy that followed the Seize, the naga took up his bow, and turned it against friend and foe; any and all who threatened his family. it was all for naught as one fateful night would tear his semi-peaceful life to shreds. In the ashes of his home, he would vow to rain hellfire on the heads of those who caused this. Namely, the Royal family. Alongside his surviving family members, they joined the rebellion, and have been there ever since. he plans to one day plant an arrow into the heart of the Mad Regent himself. 

Eshad(He/Him)

The Granted (Enchanter): a flirty voyant who appears late in the story but offers a game changing opportunity: a singular wish, to be granted at the behest of his current holder. But such a wish does not come from nothing. An equal and equivalent exchange must be made. For the voyant has the power to make such a thing happen but cannot create something out of nothing. As such, the wish becomes a last resort. This gives the voyant the opportunity to finally explore the outside world and finally figure out certain things about himself. Like why can’t he remember his past?

#interactive fiction #if wip #whispers of anarchy #woa-if

[veronicaphoenix]

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: angst, mentions of substance abuse, mental health, recovery. | Word count: 1.5k | Cross posted on AO3.| Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

The world we live in is one that teaches you to fear death since you’re a child, but as we grow up, some of us realize that we’re not really scared of dying; we’re scared of losing the ones we love the most.

Twenty-four hours after I held Lia in my arms, I called grandma. It was 5pm in Japan.

“Grandma, it’s Lia. She’s… she’s in the hospital. I don’t know what to do.”

I didn’t know what else to say, either, and there was nothing she could say to change the situation.

Lia lay in an uncomfortable bed, and IV line connected to her right arm. Her black tights and the oversized shirt she had been using as a dress were gone, replaced by a whitish gown. Underneath, ECG leads were attached to her chest to keep track of her heart. Her feet were naked under the cold sheets. The hardest part to look at was her face. She was pale, her lips chapped, her hair greasy, and there was an NC connected to her nose to provide her with oxygen. Her eyes were closed. I couldn’t see her light.

I couldn’t bear to see her like that.

I was sitting in the single uncomfortable armchair that was in the room, looking at her with my chin rested on my intertwined hands. My elbows pressed on my knees. My body was bent forward, toward her. There was nothing I could do but stare at her benumbed body.  

I had touched her hand before, but the cold startled me, and I had to leave the room for a while before I succumbed to another wave of panic.  

The first panic attack came when we arrived at the hospital, right after the paramedics carried Lia’s numb body in a stretcher towards the ER. The air was thick with urgency as they talked to a group of people covered in white clothes: nurses and doctors. One of them turned her gaze toward me, and a few seconds after, the woman was standing in front of me. She asked me who I was to Lia. I didn’t know what to say. Her best friend, her only family, her lover? Luckily for me, Jolly was standing by my side, and he gave an honest and valid reply, sparing me from the struggle. With a nod of acknowledgment, the doctor asked for an insight into Lia’s history, her problems. They wanted to know what had happened, why it had happened…

Then I started panicking. I didn’t know where to look, where to go.

Jolly must have managed the situation. The doctor nodded, jotting down a few things on a sheet of paper, and went back to where Lia had been taken; a secluded corner where she was out of my sight the moment they moved a curtain to separate her body from the rest of the patients and people in the emergency room.  

There were too many people. Too many accidents. Too much pain and death.

I shouldn’t be there. Merely four hours ago I was standing on a stage, controlling a crowd of over six thousand people. Now, I couldn’t get a hold of myself.

My breaths grew ragged, the noise around me transforming into an unbearable symphony. Tightness gripped my chest. I was suffocating. I pressed a trembling hand against my chest as I moved somewhere in search of support. I heard a few voices behind me, some calling my name. Then there were a few nurses approaching us, one of them said something about not being allowed in those premises, that we had to wait outside. I couldn’t wait, didn’t they understand? I needed to know that Lia was going to be okay. They wouldn’t shut up. Someone called out my name, louder than before, the voice breaking through. Following that, I felt a hand gripping my shoulder.

Nicholas.

I looked up to find him, and I collapsed in his arms as I let out a cry and the tears started flowing.

He held the weight of my body as I emptied myself of everything I’d been carrying for the last few months: the guilt for not realizing sooner that Lia’s was being abused by the one who was supposed to adore her, the guilt for not gathering the courage to tell her what I felt, the anger for every time Lia refused to talk to me, the anger at every time she decided the pills were better than my shoulder, then, every other mistake until this very right moment, when I didn’t know if I would ever get the chance to hold her in my arms and see her smiling up at me, her eyes shining with anticipation as I bent down to kiss her.

A nurse approached us and suggested that I lay down in one of the beds. The promise of care and a calming remedy seemed tempting, but all that I could mutter was a harsh “fuck off”. I didn’t want to hear about any fucking pill that would calm me down. Nicholas raised a hand and gestured towards the nurse to give me some space.

It took me a grueling thirty minutes to calm down, and even after that, I still couldn’t stand straight without my legs shaking and my chest hurting. My eyes would burn until Lia opened hers.

I didn’t sleep that night, and neither did I the next one.

I remained awake, by Lia’s side. At times I drifted between reality and dreams. There were moments when I drifted into a hazy realm, only to be abruptly pulled back into the real world. In those instances, I would jolt awake gripped by the haunting illusion that Lia had woken up, that she was awake and was calling my name, asking for my hand to pull her out of the water.

She was still unconscious.

As the hours ticked away, the room started getting filled with flowers and bouquets that our friends brought as they came to see her, check on her. Jolly stayed with me for hours and insisted that I go home and take a shower, get changed into clean clothes and eat something while he looked after her, but I denied over and over again, relenting only when he managed to coax me into sipping on a cheap disgusting coffee fetched from the hospital’s cafeteria.

I saw him crying for the first time in my life when he entered the room shortly after they had settled Lia into the bed.

Folio didn’t even dare to come in. He was terrified, and I learnt days later that he had endured a series of nightmares the night following the incident.

As I looked around and took in the colors filling the room, I wondered if the number of flowers was intended for Lia or perhaps meant as a collective gesture to instill hope in me, a silent illusion that would make me believe that Lia would recover.  

I had lost track of time.

I had seen the sun rise twice since I settled in that sterile room, which meant I had been there for two days and that Lia had been asleep for forty-eight hours, at least. I had only eaten two bites of a cheese sandwich that someone brought. I can’t recall if it was Matt or Bryan. Maybe, Jolly. Who cared.

I saw them all coming in and out of the room constantly the first day. The second one, it was just me and the closest to me and Lia. The rest of the team flew back home because life didn’t stop, even if it had for her. Even if it had for me.

My mind was filled with a void, but every once in a while a question would pop up, or an image. They were so random, varying from one happy scenario to a very tragic one. I saw Lia as a kid, when grandma used to do her hair and braid it at her back, then I saw her falling of my bike, but she looked older. I saw myself drowning in the same lake where we had swum all those summers ago. I saw Lia kissing a boy who wasn’t me in the lake’s deck. Then I saw her wearing the same dress she had worn the day she graduated from high school. The image transitioned to one in which she was wearing a white dress. I was waiting for her at the end of the desire path, ready to marry her. In the next one, I saw her playing with a huge dog somewhere in the mountains, her body covered by layers of clothing and a thick scarf. She smiled at someone, and I realized it was at me. She called me to go to her, and I did, but as I reached to grab her hand, she faded away.

I opened my eyes in a halt, again. I sat upright in the armchair and grabbed the front of the hoodie I was wearing. I was breathing hard, and I could feel a drop of sweat sliding down my back.

It was a dream.

Then, I heard what I had been waiting for for two eternal days, and there was no telling it wasn’t real.

“Noah?”

Lia’s voice calling my name.

Author's note: This is the end of Koi No Yokan. From this chapter we move onto Zutto (or a Promise of Forever) where I promise there will be less angst and more fluff and love between Lia and Noah 🥹

Keep an eye on Koi No Yokan tho because I still need to upload previous chapters. Those will be flashbacks that will delve into Lia's relationship with Mitch and how the events unfolded until she and Noah slept together.

Thank you to every one that's been reading and commenting on this story :') It means a lot.

READ ZUTTO CHAPTER ONE HERE

#noah sebastian fic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens fanfic

[liam-summers]

can i jump on the spuffy/spike hate train real quick and say buffy's romantic life just nosedived after season 3? like we had 2 lost souls finding each other and falling in love, fighting together and listening to each other when they had a problem, communicating and caring all around, saving each other, protecting each other, list goes on. just healthy and fulfilling all around. and all of that just went away and we got f*bois in the military or whatever, ghost flings, and the cherry on top: we wrapped the show up with an abusive and violent incel with mommy issues whose only "bad boy" traits are throwing temper tantrums 😵😵😵 not even mentioning the mental, emotional scars he left on buffy but i really could write an essay on this and probably will cause I cant wrap my head around it

Hey there! Of course you can jump on that train any day any time over here LOL. I agree with parts of what you wrote and disagree with other parts. It’s a bit of a complicated situation, I think, but in my opinion, Buffy's love life was always a hot mess!

I do agree with the way you described Buffy and Angel’s relationship, and I think it was the most balanced out of all her relationships. They shared a deep mutual love, respect, support, they allowed each other the space to be flawed and to make mistakes but when all was said and done, they were always forgiving, kind, and communicative with each other; their dynamic was never one sided or unbalanced, and you never questioned their love and devotion to each other. But I do think that their relationship wasn’t the most healthy at certain points due to the external obstacles constantly being thrown at them, both of them being inexperienced in love, and also experiencing their first true love in each other. The show doesn’t shy away from addressing the issues/obstacles: he’s a vampire, she’s a slayer, he’s older than her (although in practice, I don’t believe that the age gap is an issue in terms of a power imbalance between them but it is presented as a road block for them getting together initially in terms of his vampirism/the star crossed-ness of it all), the curse, everything that happened with Angelus, etc. Ultimately, we have to remember that these are two people who have gone through a lot of trauma together (and apart), and it’s completely realistic and understandable that their relationship isn’t going to be 100% healthy all the time but that’s also what makes it so interesting and that’s why we get so invested; we want them to make it despite all the issues. The tragedy of Buffy and Angel is that they work so well together as people but they can’t be together due to external forces! THE star-crossed lovers! Also, let’s be completely honest here, none of the relationships on both BTVS or ATS are truly healthy lol 

Now in terms of Buffy’s other relationships, I do think that Riley made complete sense as a boyfriend, narratively speaking. He was the rebound, the normal boyfriend, the guy you date in college when your life is changing and you want to try something new. I do believe that Buffy was happy with him and that she cared about him deeply, even loved him in a way, but ultimately, it wasn’t a relationship that was going to last due to his toxic insecurities and their fundamental differences. I think the way that relationship played out was realistic and I think he was what Buffy needed at that time in her life. Unpopular opinion but I don’t think that Riley gets enough credit in fandom discourse for the space that he held in Buffy’s life and heart (regardless of how problematic he was). He was technically her boyfriend for the longest period of uninterrupted time and she shared things with him that she couldn’t share with Angel or Spike (because they're vampires). 

As for sp*ffy, I completely agree with everything you wrote lol

Sp*ffy could have been an interesting exploration of a toxic and destructive relationship as a result of Buffy’s resurrection but the way the show went about it was so terrible. The introduction of Spike’s feelings in S5 was so creepy but the creepiness was just played off for laughs (I wasn’t laughing), it also served no purpose other than being an excuse to make him relevant on a show he clearly didn’t fit in. The way that in S6, the narrative heavily implies that Buffy is the one in the wrong for engaging in an abusive relationship with him and the way this narrative continues into S7, after he sexually assaults her, is despicable. The way they have to strip her of everything in her life to make sp*ffy even happen. What’s even worse is how it’s handled in S7. The way the story becomes completely about Spike and his “redemption”, leaving no room for Buffy to process her trauma, once again isolating her from everyone in her life and making her defend her abuser all season. The biggest problem with sp*ffy is that it’s all about Spike….Buffy gets nothing positive out of it. I'm watching BTVS for BUFFY, I truly do not give a shit about Spike lol. It’s really not surprising that a story revolving around a petulant misogynist who can’t take no for an answer from the women he’s obsessed with, would be so terrible. 

I’m so sorry this got so long lol I got a little carried away!

Thanks for the ask 😊

#bangel #anti spuffy #ask #jammarammaxxx

[the-ravenclaw-werewolf]

Hey, I just wanted to ask, have you seen Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3? Or not yet?

When you do, can you answer these questions here?

Beware, because spoilers here.

1. How do the characters react to Rocket's backstory? How do they react when he's injured at the start very much? Does someone suspect there being a reactor in his chest could mean someone did something horrible to Rocket in the past before? Could Emma maybe even relate to him there when the High Ev. Reveals that they were never emant for Counter Earth, like how her family was never getting adopted? How does she react to him being having numbers (89P13) on him like her?

2. How do they react to Starmora's relationship?

3. How do they like Drax and Mantis funny relationship?

3. What's their reaction to the High Ev?

4. How do they fair well to Rocket's friends last screen time?

5. How they fair with seeing Rocket's almost demise as Peter refuses to give up on him yet?

6. How do they process the children in the High Ev's ship to be colonized?

7. How do they process the planet the High Ev. laid to waste?

8. How would they react to the High Ev. Being defated finally?

9. How would they react to Rocket's not killing him in after all he did to him when he could have?

10. How would they react to Rocket's scene with the baby raccoons?

11. How would they react to Peter almost dying?

12. How do they react to the finale where everyone decided to go different ways after?

13. How do they react Drax accidentally hurting a child with a fast ball to her face?

14. How do they react to Pete coming back to Earth and meeting his Granpda gain after years of being of not knowing if the other was even alive?

15. How they react to Cosmo and her Bag Dog Problem?

16. How do they react to Nebula's growth in this movie? To her tears after Rocket wakes up because he was the one person who was with her when they both weren't bliped out?

17. How do they react to the finally where Gomora goes home to the Ravegers in the finale?

18. How do they react to everyone dancing to "Dog Days Are Over", finally being able to just celebrate being able to just have fun after the hurricane has passed? How do they react to Rocket going from a primal scream of anguish from what the High Ev. Did to his friends to a primal whoop of delight after everything he's been through?

You can answer there whenever! Don't stress if you haven't seen the movie! Just take you your time! Take care.

Sorry for the late reply, here you go!

They would find Rocket's backstory tragic and horrific, seeing how some animals are also treated cruelly in their worlds. The more observant of the 40 would notice the reactor and put the pieces together. But Emma would definitely feel more sympathetic to Rocket since they both were given false promises only for them to be smashed to pieces.

(Assuming they watched the other movies of the MCU), they would have a slight understanding that Peter was grieving and was trying to cope with it. But they also understand that this Gamora was not the one that the GOTG had grown up with, so it shouldn't be her responsibility to try to fill the position the old Gamora left behind. So they're glad to see that Peter and Gamora reconcile, with Peter having come to terms with his Gamora is really gone and that no one can replace her, and with Gamora seeing value in both Peter and the team, but doesn’t give up her autonomy for him.

They would find it really cute and sweet of how they both offer emotional support and they play off each other so well.

Like Peter, they would find him as the typical tyrant that is full of bulls*** and would personally love to punch him in the face for his actions, especially the animal lovers of the 40.

Most of the 40 would cry hard, especially those who have loved ones on the other side just like Rocket. And the line, “Can I come?” would be a punch to the gut for all of them.

Most of them would feel Peter’s pain in his fight to bring Rocket back, some of them wishing that they were able to save their own loved ones.

Would proceed to hate the High Ev. more, and I can see Ciel and Emma definitely being the most horrified.

Now they would want him dead by the next act.

Big cheers. Genuinely, as even the stoic members can’t hide their joy. 

Some would be mad that he didn’t while others would see this as a moment of triumph that Rocket didn’t have to stoop to his level to beat him.

They would start tearing up, as seeing from being compared that the babies were cowering away from the High Ev.’s hand vs the babies basically crawling on top on Rocket, and when he carries them all, but stares at the other animals who were also trapped, seeing the plight in his eyes of wanting to save all the animals.

Very worried but then relieved that he came out okay.

Would feel bittersweet about it but they are ultimately happy that they all get a happy ending.

Most would wince, while a few would have the guts to laugh.

Find the moment very sweet and happy that the two finally reunited.

“GET BACK HERE AND TAKE IT BACK!” -The dog lovers of the 40.

Are proud of the growth she was able to achieve and that she is become more open with emotions.

Very happy for her.

Glad that everyone in their own way got their happy ending and are taking the next step into their lives.

#main character syndrome (with exceptions) #the_ravenclaw_werewolf #the 40 #ask & answer #anonymous #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #gotg vol 3 #peter quill #gamora #rocket raccoon #drax the destroyer #groot #mantis #nebula #cowboy bebop #spike spiegel #avatar the last airbender #zuko #the legend of korra #korra #ouran high school host club #haruhi fujioka #death note #l lawliet #black butler #ciel phamtonhive #hetalia #hetalia north italy #fullmetal alchemist #edward elric

[thriceloved]

Fire & Water

MC X Sebastian (Her name’s Erika)

Summary : After fifth year, and Sebastian hasn’t been turned over, Ominis makes Erika promise she won’t remain with him. They’re not good to each other. But Erika and Sebastian both become aurors, and it’s hard, but they keep their promise. Yet, when a mission goes badly and Sebastian goes missing, Erika takes it upon herself to find him, and bring him back.

Fifth year had been difficult, their dynamic forever shattered. The following years had proved almost as relentless, but their friendship tentative. Erika had retreated into her own head, pushed away her friends. Ominis had gone just as silent, sending daily owls to Anne, who was still as cursed as ever, and no hope ever came to help her. She would always suffer, but he’d found he could comfort her better when Sebastian and Solomon were gone from their lives.

Sebastian remained at school, of course, saved from Azkaban thanks to Erika’s silence and her promise to her friends that she would not support him through anything else he attempted.

But he was almost as badly tormented as the year before. Erika avoided him.

In truth, she felt guilty, and torn between two sides. Torn between her love for Sebastian and her loyalty to him, and her promise to the others. To Ominis.

“You’re not good for each other. You enable his worst traits, and he fuels yours. Please, this is my condition. You must let him go.”

It was terrible, but she agreed. And from then, she suffered in silence, training relentlessly, studying intensively, everything, anything to try not to think of the way she saw her best friend, her almost lover, the mate to her soul, lonely, and almost as desperate as she was.

They still disputed the top of DADA class, but on everything else Erika beat him, but it was a battle that felt nobody ever would win.

There was no more banter. No more flirting jokes.

She didn’t know what laughing meant anymore.

It was as if someone had died inside of her, and she carried the grief everywhere she went. Her other friends always tried to comfort her, to change her mind, but as they ignored what had happened, the secret accident a tale she would bring to her grave, as long as she lived, they couldn’t gather the magnitude of it all.

Of course, Fig’s death had mattered to her, had changed her, but it didn’t explain everything.

They believed it had hit her hard, seeing her favorite teacher die in front of her, when everything finally seemed to work her way. Dying in her arms.

The first few nights, her nightmares would show him to her. She couldn’t save him, no matter how many times she replayed that fight in her head. Later on, when that trauma had slowly begun to heal, her dreams shifted, and she still cried out for him. Desperate for his touch, for anything.

But she had promised, and she would never go back on her word. No matter how strongly it cost her.

Ominis had noticed it all, in sixth year, in seventh year, but part of him couldn’t forgive his friend, either of them for changing everything, and he felt they both deserved it. And he was afraid of what could happen if they got together again. So he said nothing, and left them both alone, as they wished to be.

Professor Sharp and Professor Hecat had seen the dynamic altered, and though they tried not to notice, not to say a thing, because, of course, their school results had never been so good, they could see how miserable they were. And even that was too small a word to cover the magnitude of it all.

Erika and Sebastian graduated, top of their class, and went on to Auror school. Erika knew it was going to get only harder, to keep away from him, if somehow they were paired together, which was a very high probability, considering how few students were accepted each year.

Because of some kindness of fate, they were able to avoid each other during their training, talking as little as possible. They were good, and when they left school, a bright future awaited them.

Erika celebrated rightly, with her friends, who were happy for her, even though grief still clung to her like an ominous shadow, always behind her.

She could almost forget it, at times. Forget the face of her dearest friend as he threw that Unforgivable curse to his uncle and changed their lives forever. Forget the toll it had cost her to let him wallow in grief just as intense as hers. She kept thinking of her promise, kept thinking it would be better that way. They were soulmates, she was convinced of it, but somehow, they would never be right for each other. Too much. Too fiery. Too intense.

If she repeated that lie again, and again, she would surely end up believing it, the way her conscious mind avoided that subject as best as she could.

It was too painful, to dwell on what could have been. If she’d been stronger, if she’d seen what he was truly capable of. If she hadn’t been so tempted, too. If she’d been less curious, more attentive.

But what ifs didn’t change the cold, hard reality.

Would she ever felt warm again?

There had been moments of success, of course. Moments where she could almost see an end to that much suffering, but nights would always remind her. Any little thing brought her back. She couldn’t go back to Hogwarts. Couldn’t handle flying, and going to the sea. There were too many memories tied with it.

In Auror training, she’d met other wizards. She’d seen him meet other witches, too. Nobody knew the truth, and after all, they were both highly eligible, gifted young wizards.

Still, her dates had been quick to run away, when they felt the amount of grief she was still in. She’d tried, she’d promised Ominis she would, but it never felt right. She couldn’t handle being touched.

Would this ever end?

Would her heart ever move on?

And what hurt even more was seeing him just as shackled to his grief as she was. If he’d been able to move on, she would have, too. Certain of her choice. Of having done the right thing. But he felt as duty-bound to remain alone as she was, and that only fueled their loneliness.

In truth, after she’d gotten her final letter of admittance to the Ministry, as one of the youngest, most-promising Aurors, just as he did, she returned to her flat, in London, and cried bitter tears, upset that she couldn’t celebrate as she wished.

They had both become Aurors, and integrated the Ministry.

She had held onto her promise.

But did her heart feel so empty?

Her first mission came and went, a resonating success. She had news of his first, as well, from the gossip between the aurors. He was cunning, he was ruthless and charming, and the best duelist she knew, and soon everyone wanted him as their partner. She didn’t have to fight for her own, as well, for no one could beat her, no one had beaten her in a duel. Ever. Even back in school, her quick reflexes and strong magic had been more than enough to keep enemies away from her. She wasn’t the Heroin of Hogwarts for nothing.

After that, the road was all clear. No mission was too hard, no filature too difficult, no dark wizard too strong for them to defeat.

It was only a matter of a few months until their boss pleaded to partner her with Sebastian. Each of them was a menace, but together? They’d be undefeatable, a extraordinary asset to the Ministry and the Auror department.

But they refused. They’d reached this agreement long ago, back in sixth year, not to be partners. Logical.  It was hard enough, being in the same department, seeing each other from afar, most days, but if they had to face working together, being this close… It wouldn’t work.

And yet, she couldn’t help noticing things. Aware of how, and when he was away, on what case he worked, as if second nature. She knew he did the same about her. It drove their co-workers mad, but they refused to talk about it, and the reason why was their best-kept secret. Too stubborn for their own good. But they always dropped the topic, when they saw the anguish, and the rage when they pressed too much. When riled up, Sebastian and Erika were equally frightening.

Five years passed, until one day, Sebastian went missing.

Three weeks had passed, and he should have been back a week ago. He’d never done this to her before. That had been a promise, too, exchanged after they’d agreed to keep their distance : never leave, never use Dark magic again, never go to harm willingly. They’d even had Ominis agree to make un Unbreakable Vow for them, binding them to their terms, under pain of death.

It had been one of the only things that had soothed her heart, many times over the years. Knowing that in spite of everything, because of that vow, he would be safe. She couldn’t love him, couldn’t be with him, but she kept him safe. And she kept him close.

She knew he couldn’t have gone willingly. She wanted to give him more time, but something in her gut told her it was serious. Despite everything, they both cared too much about each other, still, to play games.

She finished the case she was on, and asked for three weeks of time off. Holidays, she’d pretended. She’d go far, to the sea, for her health. A well-deserved rest. Her boss had agreed, and sent her away.

She didn’t lose a single second, before apparating to his flat, and breaking in.

Of course, each of them knew about where the others lived, knew everything about each other. Even if they didn’t speak, didn’t write to each other, sometimes it couldn’t be helped. Her ears would linger, Ominis would speak too much, Anne would let a word out.

It was easy, his wards allowed her in as if she came every day.

How she wished it was the case.

She looked up everything there, in his home, trying to find clues on what had happened, when he had left, what he was searching for.

She knew he was on a hard one, having successfully identified a net of dark wizards that operated in London, recruiting candidates for their experiences on muggles. It was secret, and well protected, but Sebastian had been looking into it. They were ruthless, and had begun leaving bodies for them to find.

He loved the thrill of the chase, especially when it could be dangerous. It reminded him of their adventures. Of feeling alive. The only positive feelings he had these days, and he’d become addicted to it.

If it had been her case, she would have tried to infiltrate them, and sure enough, she found several messages, cleverly hidden, mentioning such intentions. A small batch of Polyjuice was left, too, as well as several vials of different hairs, and she guessed he had impersonated different people in order to fool them.

How could she get to him?

She pieced together some clues from the letters ; discovering some names he had found, some people involved, nearly each accounted for, but for the boss at the top. In a small notebook, he’d left it all for someone to find, should something happen to him. And a letter, too, addressed to her.

With trembling fingers, she took it, but put it in her pocket. She’d read it when she’d find him, and not before.

Armed with the knowledge he’d given her, she left the flat and apparated again, to his last known location.

It was away from London, on the outskirts of the city proper. Of course, they had chosen a neighborhood they could control, thick with smoke, and surely plenty of informers about intruders.

With her magic, she could become close to invisible, and under cover of night, she waited. And waited, in front of the place where Sebastian would be.

She tried not to think about him. Tried to rationalize her mission as a job. Get in, find him, and get out. Simple, to the point.

But timing was essential. Reconnaissance was essential.

She’d studied his papers, knew how many were implicated, figured he might have missed some, despite his diligence, or else he wouldn’t have been caught by them. After infiltrating and passing as one of them, the second best way was breaking in. Finding and catching them. One by one.

He’d done the brunt of the job, and now she needed to finish it. And hopefully, by the time she found him, he would still be breathing.

She knew how ruthless these guys could be. She’d killed plenty of them already.

After two full nights and days’ worth of observation, she knew what she had to. There were two teams, swapping at midnight, four wizards. They had passwords, and would raise the alarm if something was amiss. Timing would be of the essence, and she needed to be quick.

That third night, she went. In a few wordless spells, she had neutralized them, bound them and prevented them from apparating away. She barged her way in. Silent as a shadow, and merciless as death, she flew through the building. She caught them before they even knew she was there, her mind focused on one thing only : find Sebastian, and get him out. If she could find their boss, good. If she couldn’t, well. She didn’t care.

She’d always had that ability to tune everything else out from her brain, and it helped, in missions like this. She was utterly, single-mindedly dedicated to her job. This time, it was saving the one she loved. She couldn’t allow him to die. Better to live away from him, than to suffer in a world where he was gone forever.

If he died, she knew she’d join him right after.

But nobody was going to die, not when she was like this, an angel of death and vengeance.

Not when she felt her ancient magic swirl inside her, and wielded it like the best weapon she had.

By the time she had arrived at the very bottom of their lair, she had dispatched 35 wizards. He had counted on 37, so she knew she had two more to go, and most likely 4 or five he hadn’t known about.

Their boss might not be there, but the second in command, surely was charge of the prisoners, and the traitors. She followed her instincts and her magic linking him to her to a small room, hidden behind a cleverly made puzzle. But by then, deciphering codes and hidden passages was second nature to her, and it was easy to open the door, and then to capture the one behind it. Several cells greeted her, and the smell brought her back to several distinctly unpleasant memories.

There.

He was there.

Covered in blood, and shaking, surely from the aftermath of the Cruciatus curse. Its markings were plain to her eyes, having suffered the curse a few times before, including because of the very man she was rescuing today.

She allowed herself a calming breath, reassuring herself he wasn’t in danger of dying immediately.

“Come on, let’s get out of here before they come back.”

He smiled, unable to stand.

“I’d love to, but I’d like some more help. I’m not as young as I’ve been, and they haven’t been very nice to me.”

“Oh,” she crooned. “What have you done to deserve this, darling?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, love?”

If he flirted like that, he was not going to die on her yet.

With her wand, she helped him to his feet, threw a bottle of Wiggenweld into his hands which he drank without grimacing. He’d had too many by now to pay attention to the bitter taste.

When she was satisfied at his ability to be moved, she conjured a portkey.

“Here. Take it.”

“What? You’re staying here?”

“I need to finish this, or all this work will be for nothing.”

“He’s dangerous, Erika. I’m only alive because he wanted to hurt me, before the end.”

“Nonsense. I’ll go and get him, and you can brag about it when we get home. Now listen to me, and go.”

“I won’t leave you with them.”

“Please, Sebastian. Now’s not the time to argue,” she snapped. “You’re injured, covered in blood, and still cursed. Don’t make me hurt you to leave me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, now, would it.”

She seethed, but couldn’t deny it. She’d done it once, already, but she had never planned on repeating it.

“You don’t even have a wand.”

“That can be arranged.”

He hobbled to the guard she had dispatched while entering the room, and seized his wand.

“I don’t like it much, but well. Better this one than nothing at all.”

“Fine. But don’t try too hard.”

“As if I would. Just like old times, right?”

She didn’t answer, and went back to the main corridor, following the traces of the boss.

After that, they didn’t dare speak. But this banter, the first, longest conversation they’d had in years, had felt good. As if no time had ever elapsed between today and that long ago moment, stolen after Ominis had enacted her promise.

There had been much talk, and then, much less talking, and a lot more doing.

She had tried, desperately, not to cling to those memories, banishing them from her consciousness as much as she could, but this… This was only bringing them back with a bang.

She could still feel the ghost of his skin against hers, how it had felt, to be so close to him. She hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on these memories for nearly a decade, but they were never gone. That fire between them was never gone, just embers, waiting for the slightest wind to catch again.

She was burning.

Somehow, her decision to bring him back would change everything. She couldn’t return to these years and months of ignoring each other. She wouldn’t have the strength to do it. Now the dam was broken, and years of filling the lake would send it bursting open, taking everything with it.

Fire and water, always.

She needed to end this mission, quick, so that she could put his mouth to better use. So that she could see those eyes burning for her, as she had allowed herself to really, deeply look, for the first time in years, when she’d seen him in that cell.

Merlin’s beard, even shackled and filthy, he was glorious. Her blood was boiling for him. Her skin tingling, from the aftermath of fighting, the delight of the chase, and from anticipation. His smile, charming as always.

But she closed her mind to that part of her, and focused. Only a few more hours, and then she could scratch that itch. And then, maybe, she would stop burning, and avoid breaking her promise further. Maybe afterwards, she’d be able to turn the page. Succumbing to temptation, to finally remove it from her head, and his, too.

It was easy, so easy, to fall back into their old rhythm of sneaking out and dueling past Ashwinders camps, and poachers and loyalists. They’d never fought together again, after fifth year, even in Training, even in school classrooms, stubbornly keeping their distance.

With them together, the others never stood a chance. They blasted their way through the rest of the filthy corridors, checking every room, and she was counting.

“There’s only the boss left, now. He was the one to catch me.” Sebastian told her, right before the main room.

“And? With me, it’ll be quick work.”

He smirked, loving the smile on her face. That lovely, charming, arrogant smile that she’d earned, after everything she’d done before. After every wizard and goblin and beast she’d killed, even that guy stood no chance against her.

She knew it, and he knew it, and he would always, always fall for her.

That grin, wicked with delight at fighting, would always be his downfall. How he’d wished for another, one last moment like that. To capture it into his memory, commit every single detail of her looking like this, like before, when they were friends, and allies, and fighting together. When she loved him, and he loved her, and he believed nothing, and no one would ever come between them.

Of course, such happiness couldn’t last. He was young, a teenage boy with hormones running high and a heart much too big for him, and he fell. Desperate to help, unable to see that he was falling deeper and deeper into a magic that sucked life from him.

He’d sobered afterwards. Sworn to himself to atone, to do better, to be worthy of being spared Azkaban. Be worthy of her love, and that last gift. He was free, and he didn’t deserve it, but he would do his best to change his fate.

Without her, it was hell. Without Ominis and his twin Anne, life was unbearable. But he kept going. For her sake, if not his own. Surely, if he succumbed to his weakness again, it would hurt her, and so he remained on the right path.

He was good at it, too. Good at being an Auror, at studying, witty and charming and ruthlessly efficient. His partners always enjoyed working with him, but even he could feel, at times, a darker tinge slipping in his eyes that would always keep them from staying close. Only Ominis, his twin Anne, and Erika, had been foolish enough to stay close to him, when he was like that. Intense. Passionate. With a fire that would burn the entire world if they asked it of him.

Only Erika had never given up on him.

But she was loyal to a fault, and he knew the promise she’d made Ominis. He couldn’t hold it against her. It was for the best, he’d seen how she had encouraged his wildest dreams, and perhaps the world wasn’t ready for their fire.

But this moment, when they faced the wizard who’d unleashed such darkness on the city for years, until they’d finally been able to find him… It was worth every hour without her, when Sebastian could finally see her explode.

See the power she let out, free and wild, her ancient magic acting as another tool responding to her mind, and within minutes, she had bound him and silenced him.

An avenging goddess of war, that’s what she looked like, with that monster at her feet. And another one, right by her side, who would respond to her every spell.

They returned to the ministry, apparating with the group of dark wizards they’d caught, in a special room dedicated to these jobs.

In a swirl of her wand, she closed their cells, and marched out, setting out for the head of the department to tell him everything.

After a full report had been made, and their colleagues had fussed and congratulated them both, she claimed she was tired, and needed to go home. With one look at her, he joined her, and she held onto his arm as she apparated them to her flat.

Her hand had burned his skin where she’d touched him, and he was tingling all over. He was tired, and dirty, but damn it, he had only one thing on his mind.

“Not like that,” she murmured, and turned around, looking to face him.

The fire was gone. Her eyes were shining with bright tears, and his heart broke.

She was right. It couldn’t happen like that.

“Follow me,” she whispered, holding his hand and leading him to her bathroom.

Slowly, with trembling hands, she began undressing him. His torn shirt, his shoes, his pants, until he stood in his underwear in front of her, shaking just as violently.

She looked up at him.

“May I help you bathe?”

As if he would deny her anything in his state. Not trusting his voice, he nodded, and she took the last piece of clothes he had on, and pulled him to the bathtub.

Quickly, she took off her own clothes, and joined him inside the tub. She adjusted the water, temperature as high as he could bear it, and gently, so gently, began washing him.

He couldn’t stop focusing on her hands, the feel of her skin on his, as she sat right in front of him. Softly, she cleaned his hair, running her fingers over it, until all the grime was gone. He closed his eyes, enjoying that moment. Too soon, the spell would be broken. She’d realize what she was doing, how she was breaking her promise, and send him on his way, once he was clean and safe.

But until then, he would savor her every touch. The softness of her fingers, feeling her tight breath so close to his face, as she inched closer, and closer, under the pretense of needing more space to clean him. Her hands settled on his face, caressing his brow, his cheeks. Hesitating in front of his lips, but then she touched them too, and the water helped, not to forget this was not just intimacy, but something more.

Cleansing, perhaps.

Allowing her to flush his sins away, down with the bathwater.

She scrubbed where dirt was still matted with his skin, until he felt distinctly hot and raw. Her fingers came down, to his neck, his shoulders, and he felt her run her nails there, as if imagining how it would feel to hold him there, and it took everything he had not to touch her too, when she was so near, so warm next to him. Slowly, she went on, down, tracing the shape of his muscled back, his arms, his stomach, and where her fingers had been a trace of that old fire lingered, a small, gentle flame that ached with the sweetest pain.

He was so aroused it was painful, and she could see it, too. But she avoided it, cleaning his legs, his feet. He opened his eyes, then, as she stopped moving, her hands resting softly on his knees.

Her hair was unbound, and her gaze was glimmering with a thousand emotions he could not name. He should have known, that any reunion they had, would carry that weight. The weight of their history, of every hurtful word they’d thrown each other in their anger and grief, and all that had remained unsaid, afterwards. How the moments they’d stolen lost in each other’s arms would be called back at the slightest touch.

He was desperate to touch her too, and see if the memory did her justice. Desperate to see that their connection was still there. That of all the things that happened, their love was real. She was real. She had loved him.

“May I clean you, too?” he whispered, trying not to break the spell over them.

She nodded, and just as gently, he allowed himself to touch her, for the first time in years.

It was glorious. It was so easy, to keep his fingers light, and slow, as they washed her skin, her hair, and he sighed in how soft it was, how familiar she was. Her curves were still there, grown up, slightly, but still very much her. She was gorgeous. She always had been, ever since she’d thrown him off his ass during their first duel, but after nearly ten years, she had only grown more so.

To his eyes, no other woman could hold anything to her. No one would ever mean as much. Could understand him so well. No one fitted with him so perfectly. But her. Only Her.

He took his time, savoring each touch, each caress, until cleaning became a pretext to touch her, again, and again.

She had kept her eyes on him, and slowly, he could feel their breathing accelerate a little, her sigh airier.

She held a hand on his wrist, and he helped her to her feet. Water was still pooling over them, the only noise their breathing, and their beating hearts, steadily growing faster.

He stepped out, leading her with him. She turned, to summon towels wandlessly, wordlessly. Even in this state, she could do magic that amazed him.

Delicately, he dried her, then himself, and her soft hand brought him to her bedroom.

There, she settled him on the bed, seating so that she could stand between his knees, at the right height for her to draw his face to hers, and gently brought her lips to his.

How they had both dreamed of that kiss. It lingered in their minds, all day, but this was deeper. It was slow, and gentle. Like they had all the time in the world, two lovers reconnecting.

Two pieces falling into place, at long last.

Her hands were on his shoulders, and his arms wrapped lightly around her, just enjoying the feel of their lips against the other’s, tenderly, lazily.

It was hard, letting go, but she needed to see him, again.

They broke apart, lips thoroughly red. She pushed him on the bed, on his back, and settled against him, hugging him close.

“Please hold me.” She breathed against his skin.

He didn’t question it, just tightened his hold against her, as he brought them both further on the bed, and under the covers. He tucked her head under his chin, as she entwined their legs. All thoughts of sex had gone from his mind.

She was right, they didn’t need it. More than anything, they wanted their closeness, they missed each other. That certainty they’d both had, so fleetingly, that someone had their back, always. And there, in this embrace, skin against skin, as he drew circles on her back, and she sighed her pleasure against him, he could still see her tears against the pink skin of her cheeks, brightening her eyes.

And he cried too, for he had never quite allowed himself to believe that this was possible, that they could be together, one last time.

He had missed this, terribly. Missed his friend.

“I’ve missed you, so much,” he whispered in her ear.

“And I, you,” she breathed back.

It was so good, it felt so right, his heart was full to the point of pain.

They fell asleep, into a dreamless, gentle void, still holding onto each other.

Never letting go.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #fanfiction #I never thought I'd write for HP #but here I am #obsessed with these characters #and Sebastian has stolen my heart and mind #Hope you enjoy it!

[away-ward]

Hey, a genuine question. Why do you guys think michael and kai didnt care for emory? Because we saw them being protective of alex but not emory? I feel like both of them did care a lot for emory though, otherwise, they wouldnt have taken the jail sentence for beating up her brother (especially when that record stays in paper), and they wouldve treated her like any other side-hoes in this series. i feel like they just didnt know how exactly to approach emmy by the end of nightfall after all that revelation, orgies, marriage etc., because shes been gone away from thunder bay and them longer than she had been in their lives, so to treat someone who did not only had jailed them (even for valid reasons), but was never their friend like alex, or to show emmy even more intimacy than alex who had supported them through so many things, is a bit much, no?

Changes will take a while for michael, kai and emmy, unfortunately, but i dont think it's not understandable, given the context of the situation. + Alex's rika's bff, and theyve all been having orgies here and there. Banks kinda like alex too, so that means kai kinda likes her. Tbh, I wished pd had obliterated everything that is alex-related in this series, but i can see why kai and michael were closer to alex than they were to emory, even if i hated her whole arc in this series, especially in conclave in nightfall. Thank god we didnt see her as much in firenight.

Other than that, I think even emory admitted that alex was more of a friend to will and the horsemen than she ever was because she kept on rejecting them (in a way?) and their way of having fun. This was emmys one of many roots of jealousy but its not like anyone's stopping her from going back to thunder bay and confessed to them earlier and try to reconnect with those guys? Whats stopping her? And she admitted it took her long to admit to want to be part of that too because of legit and valid reasons. Just as much as will never reached out to emmy, she never did either. We understood that she was going through a lot, but hey, the world doesnt stop the horsemen from having other friends or hookups, just because emory was not part of it, no? Idk. I hate alex's everything in this series, but i dont think her presence in the ending was unreasonable or out of place.

My unwarranted and honest thoughts about willemmy and nightfall in general though:

Tbh, emmy was better than me, because if i was her, i wouldve gone back to san fransisco, love and heal myself, then find some other men to date around with. No way in hell am i going back to will grayson, but again thats just me. I just cannot ever imagine being in her place and kept on being reminded of how much this man who "loves me, reaches out to me" kept on hooking up with everybody, and even their past hookups moans his name in front of me and the. talks about her bed not being cold anymore (insinuating that will nd alex hookup right after) and her escapade with my man in the pool in front of everybody, and then still emmy goes "oh yea, i'll still be with will". Not to mention emmy was kidnapped because aydin was jealous of fucking will? And he took her on dates here and there? Even had scenes of them bonding but not his bonding with emmy? What the fuck? Emmy was so better than me because if i was in that train, i wouldve slap alex and will to death, idc. Alex doesnt deserve emmy as her friend, and will doesnt deserve emmy as his lover.

Emory Scott deserves better. Emory did not girlboss her way out of her abusive relationship with her brother and that horrible town only for her to end up with useless will grayson. I guess, if thats what she wants, good for her, but as her supporter, god, i wished she chose a different life for herself. Sorry, i love emory scott, but i'll never agree with her love for and her choosing of will grayson, because he is soooo nothing!? 😭 idk, im just a will grayson hater ok, he is the blandest character i've ever get to read, right after michael crist, and winter ashby, because the first one got to be michael and kai. Rika and dmaon were annoying as fuck, but at least they were doing their annoying shit everywhere, I feel like the most top two star review of nightfall on amazon by a user called nia (you can check it out through the app or the website on the amazon page), exactly describe why will was so fucking unlikeable and undesirable in nightfall for me. By the end of the series, i was so done with him and everyone, especially rika, michael, damon and alex in that order, that i just felt like i never want to see these characters anywhere or any books by pd ever again. This series was such an unnecessarily exhausting read!!! And It wasnt the good kind of exhaustion. The MMC, Will, was dissapointing, idk if this was discussed here before, but he was so similar with corrupt michael, i just had to stop several times while reading from wanting this book because of this tupod michael-will cross over. I hate them 😭 but thats the thing, i hate damon even more, idkkkkkkkk 😭 my hate list of this series in this order (putting aside other characters thats not main): Martin, Damon, Michael, Will, Alex, Aydin.

What about you, do you have a hate list too?

Hey. I assume this is a response to this post by @pro-logue-epi-logue. .

I will say that I don’t always 100% agree with everything I reblog from other people. Sometimes if I agree with a certain part or just want to show support. In this case, I shared the same sentiment that the Chosen/Found Family aspect of the story could have been better.

If you want to know what @pro-logue-epi-logue meant when they wrote that post, you'll have to ask them. But I can talk about my opinion.

Edit: one thing I did forget to say that I wanted to mention is that there isn't anything in my response is fact or canon. I think, like most of us, that what's being discussed is all interpretations of canon events and the characters. I'm also not trying to persuade anyone to my opinions, as I don't think even I can, or ever have in the past.

Anyway, carry on.

Why do you guys think michael and kai didnt care for emory?

I can’t speak about anyone else’s reasoning, but for me, it’s not that I don’t think that Michael and Kai dislike Emory. What I wanted was for stronger evidence of their bond, since we’re supposed to believe that they are to become a family unit. After they get off the train, though, we only see Michael interact with Emory once. Farther, in Fire Night, I felt that Kai’s interaction with Emory was… chilly, especially when compared with the much warmer interaction that immediately followed between Kai and Winter. This is just my opinion, however, and I’ve spoken with other fans who have felt differently.

I don’t believe that Michael and Kai dislike Emory. I just don’t have enough information to understand their friendships or bonds, which is lousy since I really want to. I think Michael and Kai are both supposed to love Emory. We just don’t get the opportunity to see it.

Because we saw them being protective of alex but not emory?

It has nothing to do with how they treated Alex over Emory. My opinions about the bond Emory would share with any in the group are completely separate from Alex.

otherwise, they wouldnt have taken the jail sentence for beating up her brother (especially when that record stays in paper), and they wouldve treated her like any other side-hoes in this series.

I completely disagree with this idea because I don’t think it had anything to do with Emory. They are loyal to Will.

If Damon wanted to do something for Emory, he had all the proof and opportunity to do so. He didn’t. He was only there because Will wanted to be.

Kai wasn’t completely on-board until he saw Martin preying on an underage girl. After that, it became enough for him to make a move. He made the connection to Emory, but Emory wasn’t his motivation, either. Will was.

Neither of them would have been there if it wasn’t Will who suggested it. And Will wasn’t there for Emory either. He was there for himself, because he was angry. If he were thinking solely about Emory, he wouldn’t have put her at risk by targeting her abuser, who still had access to her through her grandmother.

Now, I don’t expect 19-year-old Will to be thinking all those steps ahead, but I also don’t believe his attacking Martin was for Emory. It was for him. And he suffered the consequences of it.

My opinion is that, in high school, Kai and Michael were mostly indifferent to Emory. They liked her well enough, because Will liked her, but other than that, she wasn’t on their radar. Damon disliked Emory because Will liked her so much. He understood her better when he saw the bruises, but that didn’t change his thinking that Emory was a potential threat to Will’s happiness.

i feel like they just didnt know how exactly to approach emmy by the end of nightfall after all that revelation, orgies, marriage etc., because shes been gone away from thunder bay and them longer than she had been in their lives

It's fine if, at the end of the events in Nightfall, they’re all still getting to know each other. Emory was difficult to know before she left. My problem is that Nightfall has an epilogue that's set 10 years after those events, as does Fire Night, and I still have no idea how Michael and Emory talk to each other, forget how they care for each other. And I have no other scene of Kai and Emory after the one of the train other than the one in Fire Night to get an idea of how they interact.

The problem lies with me. I had expectations of what a Chosen Family would look like and I found the ending to be lacking for a lot of the characters, but especially for Emory.

so to treat someone who did not only had jailed them (even for valid reasons), but was never their friend like alex, or to show emmy even more intimacy than alex who had supported them through so many things, is a bit much, no?

Again, I disagree that Emory was the one who put them in prison, and that might be the reason I struggle so much to like Kai and Michael after that.

They have every right to be mad. I just wish they had directed their anger to a more reasonable target, like Martin.

I’m still not sure how anyone could hear Emory’s story about how she dropped everything she had in San Francisco to fly back to Thunder Bay overnight in an attempt to vindicate Will, only to be physically beaten and threatened with her grandmother’s death, unless she lies on a piece of paper, and think, “She’s the monster here.”

To me, any reasonable person would immediately hate Martin and let Emory off the hook. She clearly suffered enough already.

So yeah, I didn’t agree with their response to Emory, but I understood their anger. My opinion is that it was misdirected, and that's my problem. Even if they were to direct their anger towards Martin, it still doesn't mean they had to like Emory.

I didn’t want them to treat her like of their own. Those bonds take time, and she hadn’t made any kind of dedication to Will at that point, but a little bit of reasonableness and understanding would have been nice. I can’t believe we have to look to Damon in that scene to find it.

Alex's rika's bff, and theyve all been having orgies here and there. Banks kinda like alex too, so that means kai kinda likes her. but i can see why kai and michael were closer to alex than they were to emory,

There’s no denying that Alex had earned her place in that crew. She’d bent over backwards to answer their needs for years before Nightfall. I’ve never believed Emory needed to replace Alex in their eyes. For me, it was never about Michael and Kai or any of the others immediately loving Emory to the same degree that they cared for Alex. That would have been just as weird to me, for the same reasons you mentioned. They don’t know her; they don’t have a reason to trust her. Not yet.

10 years later should be a different story, however.

This was emmys one of many roots of jealousy but its not like anyone's stopping her from going back to thunder bay and confessed to them earlier and try to reconnect with those guys? Whats stopping her?

Martin.

Her pride

The fact that she thinks Will is going to hate her and want revenge, and she still has her grandmother to care for. Remember, her grandmother only died 6 months before the events of Nightfall. That’s nine years she’s been caring for her every single day. She didn’t have the time to deal with Will.

She’s scared to face him.

the world doesnt stop the horsemen from having other friends or hookups, just because emory was not part of it, no? Idk. I hate alex's everything in this series, but i dont think her presence in the ending was unreasonable or out of place.

I think there’s a bit of a misunderstanding where I and Alex am concerned. See, I don’t dislike Alex because of the actions she takes in the books. I don’t mind messy characters who do things that I would never in a million years do. Sometimes, those characters are even more interesting because their story can be exciting.

For me, Alex is a boring, underdeveloped, inconsistent character. I really don’t care that the Horsemen value her. They absolutely should if we’re only looking at what she did for them.

I don’t care that she and Will had a sexual relationship, or friends with benefits, or that they had a close friendship bond. That part makes the most sense to me.

She’s just boring to read about, and that’s mostly why I pick on the things she does. Alex’s role could have been really impact in the end, without changing anything that came before Nightfall, if she’d been used differently. As a reader, you don’t have to like a character to see their purpose. I just felt she was misused in this instance.

I have nothing much to add to your last few paragraphs. I feel that I’ve defended Will Grayson and his relationship with Emory, Alex, and the others so many times before that I would just be repeating myself.

Bottom line, you don’t have to like Will or any of the characters in this series. They’re not all that great. For me, I had a fun time reading, I loved the overall vibe, and I enjoy the way the characters are in my head.

I just wish we got a better understanding of the Family over… whatever it is that we got in the end. Why do they even have enemies? All they’re supposedly doing is running their little corner of the world. And if we’re to believe Rika, “they’re not really criminals.” If that’s the case, then what are you doing??? And why do you have a secret society dungeon? And why does Banks never have a reason to talk to Michael after 10 years? What kind of "family" is this?

I need answers!!

Sorry, forgot to address your second question

I don't really have like a hate list. I mean, of course I don't like Martin or Gabriel, but I liked them as villains. They were decently written characters. And that's the way I like to judge whether it's a "good" character. If you were meant to hate them and you do, that's a well written character. If you were meant to love them and you don't, it's good to look at why.

And I'd never want to meet any of these characters in real life.

I guess I'd have to rate them based on the enjoyment I get from reading them, so to reverse that would be...

Winter, because I find her bland.

Alex, because her character annoys me.

Kai and Michael are currently tied, but I think it's because I was so disappointed in Kai that it hurts more to read from him whereas I don't really care for Michael.

Rika...

I think that's it. I could tolerate or found something interesting about the rest.

-KO

#i don't think i'm going to get my answers #lame #asked and answered #asked and answered 165 #devil's night series stuff #will grayson iii #emory scott #alex palmer #character discussion

[vancilocs]

more lore. cant write fic so this is what you get

fenrir and merope losing their third kid who made it to the third trimester (atticus) was a bighuge awful thing for them both but also kinda a turning point to the positive in their marriage, not that they werent in love before but that cracked the final layers of separation between them that they still had despite having been married for over a decade and having two kids already

but it was horrible for them both and they dealt with it with wildly different ways, merope went semi-catatonic and just sat by the fire recovering and doing nothing so fenrir was the one who went on autopilot and arranged the needed rituals, the funeral, picked clothes for himself, merope and the kids, was the one who explained to the kids that their little brother wouldnt be coming home, didnt really allow himself a moment to sit down and cry (he did once: ordered the nurses etc. out of the room so he could hug his son and have a good wahhhhh by himself), made sure merope ate/drank/recovered from the labor, did everything while she wasnt in the headspace to function

hassaleh offered him support but he brushed him off saying merope needed her more so she looked after her and the kids more while he did his thing

merope remembers nothing from the funeral and the days before and after, kinda snapped out of it at one point and wanted to know what happened but fenrir in turn had gone on such autopilot and repressed the grief (like he always does) he wasnt receptive of her trying to connect to him now and comfort him, he’s never been comforted, he doesnt know how

like theyve been through multiple multiple miscarriages and losses before and its how fenrirs always been, he keeps going until things are normal and doesnt stop because he fears he would collapse completely if he stopped, best for him to disassociate and work so merope is comfortable and doesnt need to exert herself. also after a loss merope wouldnt let him touch her at all for a while, not even to cuddle, barely holding hands, bc she blamed her body for not being able to have a kid. for fenrir, whose love language is physical touch, this was kinda heartbreaking, but he didnt say anything bc hey, shes been through more pain, shes completely allowed to not let him touch her for now -> he disassociates further until she decides to come cuddle him and everythings okay again

anyways he decided that hey, kids are looked after, wife is conscious and eating and drinking and walking and talking, he needs to get out of the castle before he has a girl moment and throws up on the carpet and sets it on fire. so he just grabbed his horse, told his bodyguard and spymasters to not follow him or he’d kill them, and took off to find zola and rachne, wherever they still are in their little mercenary holes or caves or wherever. just disassociating wasnt enough, he needed to return to the last safe space he knew after all the safety in the castle was gone, and that was with his friends by the fire in a cave having a drink and a laugh.

he talked about what he had been through to the snake and the spider, and he got pats on the back and a hug and many condolences before being given booze bc hey, thats how you drown the bad, thats how we’ve been since we were young whippersnappers doing god knows what in these caves (but no hooking up anymore fenrir is a Loyal Man), eat and drink and forget your worries, you cant do anything about that anymore

but as fun as it was to see old friends and old lovers and be listened to and get drinks and hugs and food, when it was time to go to bed fenrir would just lay on his cot and stare at the ceiling until he couldnt stay there either anymore, something was missing, so he went out and grabbed his horse and went to go back to the castle

meanwhile merope was a wee bit worried bc he had just taken off like that days ago and was concerned that could he actually go and cheat or something? (she knew where he had gone, bc while the king is allowed to leave on his own, he’s not allowed to not say where he’s going) and decided to use her nausea-inducing future vision to see if he was maybe going to do something he shouldnt be doing, but all she saw was him coming back through their door and lo and behold a moment later he did

bc the one thing he needed and realized he couldnt get anywhere else was just the opportunity to be small, be tired, be heartbroken and just cry which is something he hadnt felt safe to do around someone since gandr died, and turns out despite all the fun times in his youth that wasnt the kind of relationship he had ever had with zola and rachne, but he realized that he did have a remaining safe place after all and it was back home in merope’s arms all this time and he was allowed to wail as much as he wanted about his loss, their loss bc that was the love of her life and wouldnt judge him

and they finally learned to actually grieve together and move on in a healthier way than just doing their own thing while both yearn for comfort but didnt want to impose on the other

random tidbits i cant be bothered to put elsewhere ->

fenrir is the tallest of his siblings, about 190 cm, same height as hassaleh who was a bit taller than gandr who in turn was taller than helle

fenrir is closer to hassaleh than he is to helle

he sucks at dancing, whenever he has to do a pair dance with merope she hears him count the steps out loud under his breath. hes so determined to remember the steps and keep count that he doesnt even look at her. she thinks its adorable

from what little i know of fenrir’s half-brother is that he’s considerably older than him, remember their father was in his 60′s when fenrir was born. he had a lot of time to fuck around. so when fenrir was crowned at like 21, his half-brother was at least in his 40′s, making him currently in his 70′s. old ass man

fenrir’s mom is also in her 70′s and lives in her homeland she left to be the former king’s wife, she’s a bitter old hag and doesn’t talk to anyone, but she’s still alive

hood is named and titled kingsblade duškobranov vecelian, bladesmaster of the four winds and weaponsmaster of the upper echelon, bearer of the royal helm and first guard of the kingdom (he gets incredibly awkward and embarrassed every time that whole thing is rattled out when all he wants to do is duel at a tourney), but is called duško by pretty much everyone and dusa by his ex gf

he moved to the castle with his family when he was 5 to be raised alongside gandr, they’re the same age. he was handpicked into a VERY prestigious and important position from birth basically (the same thing happened with the king consort of the neighbouring kingdom, he was picked to be raised with the prince to be his bodyguard. they just happened to fall in love), and trained accordingly since he moved in. so he’s around 55+ with 50+ years of combat experience under his belt. the switch from gandr to fenrir was unusual, since he wasnt raised with fenrir and they didnt have the expected bond, but they couldnt just not put duško in his promised role as the kingsguard, they couldnt just waste his training

but it kinda works since him and fenrir both thrive when they don’t know too much about each other

and he’s around 208-210 cm

rawk and ruhn are very much unique, they were found and rescued from far away at the site of a devastating forest fire, no clue if their parents fled or even survived and the third egg taken by their botanist mom never hatched either and was buried under a tree in the castle's garden (it sat on a fireplace mantle for a long time until the boys learned what it was and demanded it be buried instead of presented like that)

there are no other owls around and they dont know where to start looking for their kind, so they just chill until they can start somewhere. they don't speak their language or know anything abt their background but maybe one day

they feel a bit lonely ngl, but they do get a lot of love from their peers and have never been treated differently so its not that. partially why ruhn is hesitant to marry neela is bc she has a large family with a lot of siblings and extended family who would be at the wedding, he only has his brother and adoptive mom pretty much. he gets easily overwhelmed by the amount of family she has (though he really tries to remember them all)

thats only part of the reason tho, him being a bit lazy and not seeing marriage as necessary is at least an equal part

marriage and kids timeline:

f and m got married at 21 and 19, ylva was born 6 years into their marriage

alex was born 5 years later when fenrir was 32 and merope 30

atticus died just 2 years later when ylva was 7 and alex 2

and then there was a gap of 17 years until nepheli was born so ylva was 24, alex was 19, fenrir 51 and merope 49

currently fenrir is 53, merope is 51, ylva is 26, alex is 21 and nepheli is 2

so theyve been married for 32 years (they met once, were penpals for maybe a year at max, then fenrir went to propose and they got married within like a week)

#royaltines

[sweeterthanthis]

Your Filthy Heart

Part Three: The Pure and The Poison

Your Filthy Heart Masterlist

Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!

Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.

 Word Count: 3.5k

“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?” 

There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections. 

He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.

You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked. 

“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”

“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.” 

Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through. 

Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not. 

You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure. 

Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat. 

Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background. 

Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day. 

She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.  

You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another. 

But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest. 

You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy. 

You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears. 

“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen. 

James. 

She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick. 

You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time. 

“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.” 

Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.” 

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in. 

“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?” 

The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.” 

Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss. 

At the worst possible moment. 

“What do we have here?” 

Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed. 

Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake. 

“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air. 

“Finally, huh?” 

Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils. 

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.” 

The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing. 

With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering. 

“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”

Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation. 

As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation. 

You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.

Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation. 

As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning. 

“Oh!”

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction. 

Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation. 

Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck. 

How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother. 

“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.” 

Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze. 

Fuck him. 

You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair. 

He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another. 

Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere. 

“What the-” 

One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to. 

He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted. 

Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief. 

But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did. 

The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed. 

“How dare—”

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury. 

“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.” 

Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt. 

“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”

“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”

One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you. 

“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.” 

You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell. 

“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”

The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side. 

“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…” 

Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips. 

“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”  

Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.

“Daddy—” 

His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils. 

“Suck.” 

You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger. 

“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?” 

A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs. 

Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill. 

You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.

“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.” 

“Daddy, I-” 

“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?” 

Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace. 

It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.  

“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.” 

His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him. 

Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door. 

“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”

Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head. 

You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core. 

“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?” 

Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to. 

“No? You've sure changed your tune.” 

You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.” 

Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch. 

You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face. 

“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.” 

Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand. 

It was too much, too much tenderness, too good. 

You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.” 

Baby. 

Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace. 

“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?” 

It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again. 

He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit. 

“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.” 

You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub. 

You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. 

“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…” 

He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face. 

“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick. 

“Again.”

“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.” 

There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him. 

Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release. 

“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.” 

Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb. 

Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm. 

“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”

You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips. 

“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”

You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs. 

“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels. 

“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”

You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door. 

“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?” 

With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood. 

Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter. 

Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table. 

No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.

As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs. 

“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket. 

You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.

“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it. 

“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?” 

Our girl. 

It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier. 

“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!” 

“Please, call me Bucky.” 

You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.

He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat. 

This was what you needed.

This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right. 

So why did it feel so wrong? 

What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations. 

“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?” 

“You have no idea.” 

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #marvel smut #stepdad!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader

[jungkxook]

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

#btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jeon jungkook smut #bangtan smut #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts oneshots