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anaveragebibliophile · 3 years

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All For Him

Young!Legolas x Thranduil x Wife!Reader

Summary: Lord Elrond comes to Mirkwood to ask a favor of his oldest friend, Thranduil. However, the stoic, unyielding king isn’t as willing to follow through on the request because of the danger it will put his family in.

Honestly, when you stumbled into your husband’s study that morning, you didn’t expect to feel so puzzled and flabbergasted. You didn’t anticipate Thran’s summons to be anything more than a request for information about Legolas (which you were happy to provide), a question regarding supper, or an idea for date night. So the last person you expected to see was Lord Elrond, the ruler of Rivendell, arguing with his trusted confidant and friend of many eons near the balcony.

“Thran, what’s going on? Is everything alright?” you queried as you stepped into the room, incisors biting into your lower lip.

“Queen (y/n), what a pleasant surprise,” Lord Elrond replied, consequently ending the argument, as he walked over to take your wrist and place a chaste, respectful kiss on the back of your hand. “My sincerest apologies for not seeking you out sooner.”

“That’s quite alright, Elrond. You know that. I too wish I had known you were here earlier, but I unfortunately got sidelined. We took a short walk in the gardens this morning, all three of us, when Legolas ended up tripping on a very small rock. Thranduil and I tried to utilize the open--and what we thought was a safe--space as a way for him to grow more comfortable walking without our help. That strategy worked well for us. Until today. None of us had seen the ant-sized pebble roll over his tiny heel, making him lose his balance and unknowingly place his hand on a grounded bee’s stinger to stabilize himself.”

“My goodness! How is he doing?”

“As well as can be expected. As he got himself up, he whimpered a little bit which isn’t normally like him. Even if he takes a tumble, he’ll usually still maintain his normal demeanor--sweet, timid, and smiley. But once we saw his palm start to swell up, we knew something was wrong. Thran rushed him to the healer, who was more than willing to keep an eye on him. Ever since then, he’s been given herbs to reduce the swelling and irritation at the site of the wound as well as water to keep him hydrated. Thank you for asking.”

Once you finished sharing that traumatizing experience, you looked over to your husband, whose face was devoid of color. Out of the two of you, he had been the most panicked over Legolas’ well-being. ‘Is he breathing?’ he’d asked. ‘What if he has a reaction to the toxins?’ he’d wondered. ‘What if we didn’t get him to the healer’s quarters in time?’ he’d said, voice cracking under all the emotions. Unfortunately, the man is an aggressive worrier who feels the most stress when he’s involved in a situation that’s completely out of his control. His son inadvertently getting stung by a bee? Yeah, definitely an event that drove your husband up a wall.

“He’s doing fine, Thran. He and I cuddled in his rocking chair for about twenty minutes before he fell asleep. Before that though, he did want me to tell you that he loves you,” I said, trying to soothe him as best as I could given the circumstances.

Even though Legolas is still quite young and not fluent in Sindarin yet, he does have a few sentences that he likes to use every now and again. His favorite though is ‘gi melin’, the Sindarian version of ‘I love you’. Anytime he’s reunited with you or Thran, he’ll smile so wide (with his one tooth showing itself off) and almost shout the words out (as if you won’t hear him clearly without that extra pizzaz). Both you and your husband agree that it’s probably the sweetest thing your little leaf has ever done (and Legolas is the epitome of sweet).

“I love him too. More than life. Which is why I cannot allow Sauron’s ring and its company to enter Mirkwood. I am sorry, Elrond, but my answer is final. You will not be able to change my mind on the subject,” your husband said.

“Sauron’s ring? So young Frodo is alive then, is he not? I heard about your daughter saving him from the hands of the Nazgûl but wasn’t sure of its veracity,” you mentioned.

“Yes. He is recovered and wishes to continue on the quest to destroy the ring at Mount Doom. However, we are trying to avoid the company’s traveling in the open at night and are looking for places for them to seek refuge. I am trying to convince Thranduil to offer his kingdom, but it seems that that has been more difficult than I originally presumed. He fears for your safety and Legolas’ too much.”

Speaking of Legolas, a soft knock on the door soon presented you with the little leaf in the arms of his nanny, Elva.

“Legolas, darling, what are you doing up so early?” I asked, my lips perking up into a small grin.

“Ada, Nana!” he blubbered, pointing to us. “Gi melin, gi melin, gi melin.”

“I apologize, Your Majesties. As you can see, the prince woke up a bit early from his nap. All of the maids attempted to keep him occupied in his chambers, but it was no use. He only wanted to see his nostairi (parents),” Elva explained.

“That is quite alright, Elva. I have not seen enough of him today. Thank you for bringing him to us,” your husband responded, moving over as Legolas reached out for him, and, once in his arms, began snuggling into his chest. “Hello, iôn nîn. I hope you slept well.”

“How’s his hand, Thran?”

Your husband took your question as an opportunity to lightly pull Legolas’ right arm out from where it was hiding in front of his stomach. “It is still a tad swollen but not too severe.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear.”

“Nana, gi melin,” your son whispered behind your husband’s robes.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” you responded, lightly running your fingers through his hair and down his back.

Watching the interaction ensue, Thranduil softly smiled down at the two loves of his life. The first one--his wife--who taught him the beauty behind exuding kindness, positivity, and light. The one who guided him back to the meaning of life. And the second one--his son--who embodies all the genuine goodness that his wife bestowed upon him in their early years together. He’ll never know how he got so lucky, but that unknown answer will never prevent him from being grateful.

“Ada, gi melin,” your son quietly hummed as he lifted himself up to kiss Thran’s cheek.

“Iôn nîn, gi melin as well. Very much.”

But then the unthinkable happened. Your little leaf turned his body away from Thranduil to look at Elrond. “Gi melin!” he shouted, a smile creeping up his face (with his lone tooth on display).

“Well, I cannot say I am not shocked,” the lord responded, just as confounded as the rest of the group. Although Legolas was a very empathetic elfling, the reality was that he only shared that sentence with two people: his parents. So his sharing that sentiment with another-- a person he doesn’t spend every day with, let alone see once a month--was very odd, yet exciting in its own way. In your mind, maybe this was a sign that he was feeling more comfortable around his parents’ trusted friends. Maybe he saw the camaraderie in the room and felt soothed by it. Maybe he was no longer experiencing such debilitating episodes of timidity.

“It appears he has taken a strong liking to you, Elrond,” you responded. “And now that you know the depth of his affections, are you truly going to permit an evil, dark presence permeating Mirkwood’s halls?”

He pondered that question in no time at all before saying, “No. I will not be the one to put this child at risk. Perhaps Frodo and his company can stay a few extra days at Rivendell. It really is not a problem.”

At that declaration, you and Thranduil humbly nodded (hiding your smiles as best you could because this was a serious matter after all). “Thank you, my friend. Your concern for our son is much appreciated and will never be forgotten.”

“I know you would have done the same for me had I been in your shoes. Legolas deserves to be safe and comforted in his own kingdom without his parents having to worry about whether the ring will wreak havoc and harm him in the process. Besides, I want to return to Mirkwood in a few months’ time and still be on his list of love.” And everyone, including Legolas, giggled at that.

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lululawrence · 3 years

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Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments

when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???

but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.

firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.

secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:

writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.

in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.

because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.

but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.

the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.

now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.

now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!

add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.

now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.

then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.

sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.

but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.

and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.

for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.

so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.

if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.

#long post #rant #i almost deleted this #but you sent it on just the right day and instead i let loose #this is unedited and unbetaed lmao but ENJOY #or don't #whatever #writing stuff #i should tag it #writing SHIT #but that's not really a tag i keep cause who wants to keep track of the negatives #not me

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waybrights · 3 years

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Hey, hi! I love your prompts. The way you write is marvelous. This is a little gift for you, some Sashanne angst and hurt/comfort. Enjoy!

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Anne found her sitting on a log, watching the stars. After returning to Amphibia, she never imagined seeing Sasha again but in a new light. Not as an enemy anymore but an ally, protecting Wartwood in her place, gaining more support to defeat Andrias. It felt surreal.

Thinking about Sasha filled her heart with mixed feelings. Love, hate, care, anger, longing, disappointment, nostalgia, annoyance. It was like cooking orange chicken with explosives as weird as it sounded. And knowing they were kind of avoiding each other, Sasha more than Anne, was becoming exhausting. There was fear of what she would do; many times Anne had thought Sasha would do the right thing just to be let down again, though, for Sasha to be all distant it made Anne wonder if she had given up after she had yelled at her that she was done with the blonde's shit.

Another issue needed to be let out of the surface too. One that had tormented her dreams some nights, not as much as Marcy being stabbed but it was still nasty and soul-breaking.

Her feet moved on her own, the crunching on leaves and twigs and dead grass alerted Sasha. She stood up quickly, unsheathing her sword just to relax marginally at the sight of Anne.

"H-Hey"

"Hey" God, if that was the only thing they were going to say to each other, this conversation would never start.

"There's something I want to talk about with you."

"Oh... Well, I was going to talk to you tomorrow but now that you're here..." Sasha scratched the back of her head and swallowed. She inhaled and exhaled deeply before opening her mouth.

"I'm sorry." Both said and looked at each other, flabbergasted.

"Were you going to say--?" Sasha started until Anne interrupted her.

"Oh, you were going to--" Yeah, this was awkward.

"Were you planning to apologize to me?" Sasha looked at her as if Anne wasn't Anne anymore but a clone. Alright, time to explain.

"I missed you, Sasha. I missed you and I hated you." The blonde flinched at the last part but didn't avert her eyes or try to. "I was so mad at you and I even wondered if you cared about me at all, or if you just cared about a version of me that would always do whatever you wanted. No agency, no opinion, nothing, just doing your way."

"It was wrong though. Everything I did was wrong and it took the whole disaster in the castle for me to understand that's not how people should act, how friends should act. But I know that you're done with me and anything related to me, so...I have to accept it. And whether you forgive me or not, I'll respect your choice and leave you alone. I just want you to know that I'm truly sorry for everything I've done to you. Before and during Amphibia. You were right, I am a horrible person. I'm trying to be better and I want to be someone you deserve but I've screwed up too many times for you to keep putting up with me. Anything you decide, Anne, forgiving me or hating me or even just pretending I've never existed... I-I never meant to..." Sasha sniffed, cursing at herself for not keeping the vulnerability at bay, feeling tears gathering fastly on the corner of her eyes "You and Marcy are the most important people to me. I'm so sorry I made you feel like I've never cared...w-when I-I love you so much..."

The dam was in pieces. Tears fell to the ground while she waited for Anne's judgment. A punch, a scream, a long lecture, an insult, or just leaving, she forced herself to not turn around and run away. That never worked in long term.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her chest. Since when Anne had approached her?

The girl glanced with a mix of pain and fury at her hand, placed where Sasha's heart.

"I killed you." Anne's voice was too low but Sasha could hear the words, her blood freezing at that sentence.

"I killed you. In my dreams." She closed her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears from falling, her voice from breaking. "We were there...on the Newtopia Gates. We were fighting and I was so, so mad at you. B-But... But I wanted it to stop. Something was off with me. As if I was being possessed by a demon. And you were having trouble defending yourself... I-- no, that person, whatever it was using my body, it disarmed you and then... My own sword went through y-your heart... I-I couldn't... I couldn't stop it...! You were bleeding, you were dying and I was unable to save you..." Anne leaned her head on Sasha's head sobbing. The blonde debated mentally what to do. Comfort her? But what if that was translated as intrusive? Giving some encouraging words? She wasn't good at feelings. Without more choices, she slowly raised her arms and wrapped them around Anne carefully and kindly.

The other girl glared at Sasha with an intensity that was scary even for the fearless warrior, then a fist hit her chest. It stung a bit but not much as Anne's pained and furious face.

"I killed you! My own best friend! Even when you were the most massive jerk in the history of most massive jerks! You manipulative," a second hit "idiotic," a third one "arrogant," a fourth one "selfish" a fifth one "and insufferable asshole!!" Six hits. Sasha took them all. She was crying, silently to let Anne express all the wounds and stress she unconsciously put her through. The words were like knives slicing her heart but true. Dark reminders of how toxic she had been with the people she loves the most.

"I killed you! Even when I was done with you, I would've never forgiven myself! I love you, I missed you, I hated you and now I don't know anymore!"

"Anne..." Sasha searched for the right words, but what kind of words could help in a situation like this? Her only option was the most difficult path: emotional honesty. "Anne," she carefully lifted her chin to be eye to eye "I would never hate you. Even if you had...killed me, I never would. I hurt you so much. I took you for granted. I betrayed you and attacked your frog family. You were mad for good reasons. That's not your fault, it was mine. I-I know this is up to you. Deciding what to do or what to feel, but please Anne, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve this kind of burden. Not with everything else you're dealing with."

Anne sniffed and rubbed her eyes angrily. Sasha stepped back a bit, thinking the Thai girl needed space to calm down but her friend, (ex?) friend, grabbed her by the arms, her expression between angered and desperate.

"I'm still so mad at you, S-Sasha. I don't know if I can forgive you"

Sasha deflated but nodded. Respect her choices, no matter what, she told herself like a mantra.

"B-But I missed you, s-so much. And I'm so glad you're ok. I thought... I thought you were gone, j-just like M-Marcy." Both teenagers grimaced by remembering what Andrias did. "I thought Andrias had done the same to you. I don't know if I can accept you in my life again after all the shit you have done. It's just hurt so much."

"You don't have to. I-I won't force you to do whatever I want ever again. Even if you-you don't believe me, I mean it."

"Fuck... This is so messed up." Anne laughed bitterly.

"Y-Yeah, it is."

"I lost Marcy. We both did... I... I don't want to lose you too."

"You won't. Not by Andrias' hand or my stupidity."

"How can I trust you?" Anne spat.

"You don't have to. But I'll try my very best. It's the least I can do to-to show you that I regret how horrible I was and that I won't let you down."

Anne didn't say anything else. The hug Sasha received took her by surprise. It was both aggressive and affectionate. She wrapped her arms around her again, both crying, sobs shaking their bodies.

Things weren't ok between them. There were still too many wounds and mixed feelings to face and mend if there was a chance to start over again.

However, as hard as it ended up to be, this little conversation was a start to rebuild the bridge of their friendship. It would be a slow and tough process, but for Anne and Marcy, Sasha would do it.

#submission #Sashanne #Talking about the second duel in which Anne tried to kill Sasha #//#GOD I LOVE THIS SM!!!!!#ITS RLLY WELL WRITTEN AND I THINK IT SHOWS ANNES CONFUSIOM TOWARDS SASHA PERFECTLY!!!!#this is rlly great thank u for sharing it w me!!!#amphibia #amphibia fanfic #sasha waybright #anne boonchuy

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Online dating

darcy lewis x reader / masterlist

summary; darcy decides to try a dating app, least to say, the guy isn’t anything like his picture. and thus she ditches him, and finds someone else in a hot second / warnings; the oc guys in this fic are dicks, homophobia, darcy being bae, swearing, mentions of sex and cheating, mentions of joy x reader.

he was a polar opposite to what he had portrayed his online self to be, screw the internet! this date was truly tragic, darcy had plenty of things that she could be better using her time for, rather than sitting opposite this oaf, that was licking his unappealing lips, and staring at the waitress when he thought that she didn’t notice.

“huh?” the scientific doctor pulled her phone out, ushering a puzzled expression on her face as she stared at the blank screen. she of course recognised that no one was making any attempts to contact her, but he didn’t know that. “one second.” she held her finger up, bringing the phone to her ear as she blabbered into the speaker that was inherently catching nothing that she was saying.

“slow down jane.” darcy falsely ushered, using her hands to exaggerate the conversation in her head. she put the phone down, a facade of panic elaborating behind her spectacle adorned eyes as she grabbed her belongings in a frenzy, standing upright and out of her seat. “im so sorry, my friend has just hit some guy with her car and she needs some moral support. tonight is going to have to be cut extremely short.”

short was a relief, but the hopeful expression on this dude’s face wasn’t. perhaps it was cruel to leave this guy hanging, and well, she couldn’t blame him for wanting more, she sent him an awkward smile as he began to speak. “we should do this again some time - properly.” darcy wasn’t dumb, she noticed how his eyes sped to the side as the curvy waitress walked by.

“sure...” no, definitely not. darcy was well aware that she was wasting her time with this moron, she didn’t need a man, let alone a dweeb of one. a quick wave was all she bade him as she exited the coffee shop, only to become engrossed in a scene erupting on the local streets. there was a woman, flinging shirts, and a bra within the bundle that looked as though it was not her size, what was she thinking, clearly it wasn’t, at said example of figurative masculinity.

“screw you durkus!” any guy named ‘durkus’ was basically a label confirming that he was a dick. “i don’t need you, nor the next man! i am a well established woman who has done more for this country than you could ever know, you’re dust beneath my feet, a pathetic layer of residue that i want nothing more to brush off.” perhaps she was being harsh, but it sounded like he deserved it.

from the red lipstick, that the woman was not at all sporting, from the random bra that she had flung at her partner, it was a safe bet to assume that he had cheated on her. darcy plodded closer, listening whimsically in, and realising that her life was pretty calm, there were no longer asguardians or dark elves infiltrating her life, nor the work that she had attained to field in.

she had only recently earned herself the title of doctor, and it was frustrating that people would assume that she opted for a profession in a hospital room, or they would forget the professional endorsement all together, and address her as ‘miss lewis’. she was no one’s puppet, she had scaled herself up the ladder of her career to be where she was now, but another thing that she was alongside such a wave of potential was a feminist.

this dick was shouting in the streets, calling her inexplicable names such as a ‘whore’, and a ‘two faced bitch’. having the ability to hear the insults brew anger in her stomach, she couldn’t just stand there. “what are you going to do, turn into a complete lesbian?” now that was the last straw, it had darcy marching over, and promptly she shoved the guy, making him drop all the items that were grasped in the basket of his arms.

a flabbergasted ‘huh’ was riveted from him, and it made darcy smirk as she attuned his attention towards her; the stranger that had gotten involved in his public display of disrespect and homophobia. “how about you watch your damned mouth before i make sure you can’t open it again. and whilst you’re at it, get some new shirts, you’re not a model, unless you’re the kind that are put on prison pamphlets.”

“who the fuck are you?” he spat his saliva on the ground by darcy’s feet, establishing her with the information that her first impression of this dick had been correct. women just knew with this kind of thing, they could sense trouble from a mile away. “you know what, keep that crazy bitch. maybe you can help her store her katanas, and go on double dates with danny rand and his plus one. rather you than me.”

“don’t ask.” the woman shook her head, tired of the drama that durkus always seemed to bring. she had enough trouble, involving work and extracurricular night time activities, without him adding to them. darcy presented her with a sweet smile, picking up the box of random bits and bobs that was on the floor. “that’s just work stuff, i’m moving offices and as i came to collect some things from our apartment, and i found him- well let’s just say he wasn’t alone.”

“that was pretty easy to pick up on. how’d you not realise that you were dating a total sleaze?” she was blunt with her enquiry, though the woman shrugged, a guilty expression cowering upon your features, like an ashamed shadow. a small, attractive smile graced her lips, secrets hidden beneath the span of the expression.

“oh, i knew. i just had to pretend to be happy, so that my ex, or well now, my other ex joy would stop chastising me, claiming that i haven’t got over her. she’s so up her own ass sometimes and it drives me- shit, i’m sorry, you don’t know me, nor do you need to hear about my problems.” the y/h/c haired woman shook her head, stretching her hand out to miss lewis. “i’m y/n, thanks a bunch for helping me out back there.”

darcy accepted her handshake, completing the action as she smiled. “i’m darcy.” this woman didn’t need to know about her doctor title, in fact, darcy was keen on knowing everything about her instead. “so’d how you meet him?” referring to the person that had most recently became y/n’s ex. y/n was relieved that darcy had shown up, she was sure she’d have used her martial art training for more than composition; she’d have kicked durkus’ flat ass.

“on a dating app.” it was a normal answer, she wouldn’t share the intel that before that she had saved his ass whilst wearing a black hood, stopping him from getting mugged in the dead of night. perhaps she should have saved someone else that particular late evening. darcy couldn’t help but let a small laugh out, finding both their circumstances quite amusing. she was sure a similar situation would have unfolded if she had decided to regularly see the date that she ditched.

“online dating man, it sucks, am i right?” it had quite the reputation, for the two of them especially. “maybe we should just date each other.” she joked, though she was being partially serious. it felt right, they had bumped randomly into one another’s faulted situations on the same day, it almost felt like fate, though that subject was too cheesy to say aloud.

“well doctor lewis, i would not at all mind going on a date with you.” darcy frowned at the title that she had been called, pointing at the side of the woman’s jacket, that had a recyclable label stuck upon the material. “so you majored in science, if i am correct?” finally, someone got it! she could get used to that.

y/n did not appear as a deity nor a creature from another realm, she was normal. or so as far as the eye could tell, in fact, she did not suspect a thing from this woman, much less to be a defender of the earth that worked in a small and less know league than the avengers, yet still roamed the us to protect its people.

darcy though had won this battle for her though, giving her a moment of peace from fighting, and had idly sent durkus on his route far away. y/n could get used to not being the hero all the time, more so if this doctor was her knight in shining armour.

#darcy lewis x reader #darcy lewis imagine #darcy lewis fanfiction #Darcy lewis oneshot #kat dennings x reader #Darcy x reader #Darcy imagine #thor x reader #marvel women x reader #imagines #imagine #xreader #marvel x reader #Darcy lewis ff #darcy lewis x you #darcy lewis

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handy-dandy-monster-candy · 3 years

Text

Ruathym, part Three

Rating: NSFW Length: 2272 Pairing: Male Drider x GN Reader

The finale for the romance for @kim-monsterlings!

xxx

Much to your surprise, Ruathym gives you space. There are fewer summons and the spies make themselves ever scarcer, until you could swear there were long stretches of time in which you were truly alone. Even more surprising, you found yourself becoming restless and ill-tempered in these moments, losing your patience with even Tinki. (Of course, you make it up to the little, well-meaning creature; spiders, you learn, are surprisingly good at puppy-dog eyes.)

“You’ve been snapping at the staff left and right,” Ruathym says with no small amount of amusement some days later, braiding your hair down your scalp. It’s gotten longer, you realise, and you contemplate cutting it before your captor speaks. “Have I displeased you in some way?”

Yes, you wish to say, but you’re sure that the King has done nothing wrong. Not truly. “No,” you say instead, though it sounds unconvincing to your own ears.

“Hm,” hums Ruathym, tugging gently at your hair in admonishment. “With the way you’ve been acting, one might get the impression that you dislike being far from my side.” You twitch and he laughs, triumphant. “Is that it, my little bug? Have you come to crave the pull of my silk?”

“I wish you wouldn’t mock me,” you grouse, sighing heavily. “It reminds me why I prefer my own company.”

Ruathym chuckles, fingertips skating along the skin of your back before he picks you up and cradles you against him in his four arms. “I thought humans needed time to mourn their losses,” he says, searching your face with something sharper in his eyes than his usual derision. “I’m no reader of minds, my sweet. You must tell me if you have want of me.”

You scoff. You can’t help it. When has being vulnerable ever served you well? You almost bite his fingers when he turns your face to look into your eyes, sighing once again in your defeat. “And if I do?” you challenge, lifting your proud chin. “What of it?”

“Then you shall become my consort,” says Ruathym, with a simple frankness that flabbergasts you.

“Your—what?” you gasp, distantly aware that your lips are flapping like a fish on the docks.

“Do try not to make me repeat myself,” Ruathym replies in exasperation, pinching your chin. “My consort. My lover. Whatever you humans call those of our stations in courtship.”

“But I’m human!” you splutter, struggling to sit up straighter in his arms.

“I’m aware,” drawls Ruathym, helping you get your bearings—at least physically. “Did you think I was sleeping with you because you disgusted me?”

“I…” You don’t have the words. You don’t know what you thought, but it definitely wasn’t this. “You think I’m attractive?”

“What did I just say about making me repeat myself?”

You huff, scowling up into his handsome, angular face. “You wouldn’t be. I want answers, not riddles.”

Ruathym snorts indelicately, one of his few habits that doesn’t come with some modicum of damnable grace. “Yes, I find you attractive. No one else has the audacity to speak to me the way that you do. I find it thrilling.”

“You mean you like it when I’m cruel.” You frown. “That’s not what I’m after. I don’t want to be cruel to my lover. If you want to court me, you do it right.”

Ruathym carefully sets you down on the bed, curling his legs up under himself and draping his humanoid torso across plump, velvety pillows. “Teach me what humans do ‘right’, then,” he commands, gesturing for you to speak.

You flounder for a moment; this was not how you expected your evening to go. “We… We court,” you say dumbly, gesticulating helplessly. “We exchange gifts of trinkets and flowers, we write one another letters, we—well, usually there’s pining involved, I suppose.”

“How dull,” sighs the King, watching you beneath his thick, silvery lashes. “Driders kill for their lovers.”

The weight of his words isn’t lost on you. You think of your brother and his knights—of the entirety of the kingdom laid to waste at your feet. You feel lightheaded, blood creeping up your neck and up into your face. You have to resist the urge to hide from the slow, smug smirk of satisfaction that melts onto the Drider King’s face. Damn the man. Had he been courting you in his own way this entire time? Damn him!

“What about the Queen?” you ask, hedging around the obvious revelation and latching onto one of your more prominent doubts.

Ruathym blinks hard, clearly startled. “What about her?”

“You’re married,” you say, “and she hates me. Won’t she want me dead once she realises her lover’s attention has strayed?”

The King laughs, hard and loud, throwing his head back with his mirth and revealing his fangs. “She’s never loved me a day in her life,” he manages to gurgle after several seconds of laughter, “and the feeling is mutual. We married for politics and to spawn strong children. That’s all. If she so much as schemes to harm a hair on your head, I will kill her or die trying.”

“Ruathym!”

“What? Does it shock you? I protect what is mine, little bug, and you are what I wish to possess in your entirety.”

You bristle at this, though you curse your stupid heart for fluttering in your chest like a tizzied moth. “I’m not a thing, Ruathym. You can’t possess me. Either you love me, or our arrangement remains the same.”

Ruathym shrugs an elegant shoulder, expression shifting into something bordering on thoughtful. “What is love to a human may not be love to a drider, little one. I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Is that not love? I would kill you before I allowed you to court another. Is that not love? I would lay down my life to protect you. Is that not love, this powerful, ugly thing?”

You don’t know what to say to this. You want to object, but your heart is pounding too loudly, your thoughts are too muddled. Never has someone felt so strongly about you, and while your feelings are conflicted, you can’t deny that there’s something intoxicating about the King and his firm command of you in and out of the bedchambers.

Courtship with Ruathym is… interesting. He sends you poisonous flowers at first for their beauty, unaware that their very touch could kill you. When you correct him, he expresses his disdain for human frailty, but then he sends for roses and takes the care to have their thorns removed so as to avoid any chance of injury. It’s excessive and obnoxious, but it’s endearing in its own way, even if you’ve never been particularly fond of roses. Still, each bouquet is a different colour paired with different complimentary flowers, and you begin to look forward to your weekly deliveries with something like anticipation.

Then there are the letters.

As expected, Ruathym’s lettering is swooping and elegant, more reminiscent of ornamental calligraphy than what one would use for writing to a lover. Still, each letter holds within it a terribly sweet awkwardness that lets you know that he’s never written a letter out of love in the whole of his life. He’s strangely formal at first, addressing you by all of your names in the greetings of his first few letters, but it isn’t long before he’s dropping them all in favour of addressing you as he does in person. It makes your heart flutter oddly in your chest to see ‘little bug’ written in such beautiful, glittering script, shimmering silver on charcoal grey parchment.

Soon, they become less letters and more little notes delivered on scraps here and there. Tiny doodles of advisors dying terrible deaths done in the throes of boredom, or tidbits of trivia from the kingdom at large. Did you know we had 5,363 cattle in the region of the L’Surba Caverns? Neither did I know nor care, one says, and you snort into your tea at the thought of the King sitting proudly while some poor sod with an abacus counted out their livestock from the sum of several reports. While you missed the weight of your crown, you did not exactly miss all of the bureaucracy attached to it.

He takes you on little outings, here and there. At first it’s a simple stroll through the gardens, sharing meals and speaking about your days. Then, as you both grow bolder, outings to meet—or, in his case, intimidate—the people. Finally, with glamours and enchantments, you take to the countryside for days at a time, disguised as a couple or adventurers on a quest. It’s during these outings that you get to know him best, away from the bustle of the castle, where his impetuous charm and rakish smiles lure you to him like a moth to flame, and you crash and burn in his heated embrace.

One evening many months later, you are summoned to a part of the palace that you rarely frequent, for it is usually crawling with servants and vassals of every kind. Now, however, the halls are quiet and still, and the servant who leads you to the chamber where Ruathym awaits disappears like a whisper in the dark. There, in the centre of the room, is a set of robes unlike any you’ve ever seen, woven in shimmering silk dyed the colour of rubies. You approach as if in a dream, running your fingers along embroidery in the shape of tiny silver spiderlings along the shoulders and hems—you nearly jump out of your skin when the King drapes himself across your back.

“What is this?” you whisper, looking over your shoulder at his soft, searching face.

“Your wedding attire,” he says, and he seems unperturbed when you draw away, stunned.

“My what? Your wife!”

“Is dead,” Ruathym simply replies, shaking his head at your unasked question. “We had a clutch of eggs. She went the natural way. The children feed on her yet.”

You grimace at this, though you can’t deny the relief you feel at her passing. “You’re a father now?”

“I am. You will also be their parent, when we wed.”

“‘When’? You’re assuming I’ll accept!”

“Would you deny me?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowing into gleaming slits.

Your stomach flips. “Well,” you say, flustered and at a loss. “This is all so sudden, Ruathym!”

“Is it really?” he asks, reeling you in against him again. “We’ve posed as newlyweds before. Why is it so different now?”

“Because it’s real now! We wouldn’t be pretending!”

“Who says that I was pretending before?” he demands, trapping you between his body and the robe on the mannequin. “It was practise.”

You feel your face burning, and you’re sure you might blend into the robe at your back if given just a little more provocation. “You despicable little—“

“Yes, yes, call me names,” he says, waving away your insults. “Later. Give me your answer now.”

“You know my answer,” you grumble, pushing ineffectively at his chest.

“I know it,” he confirms, smugness in every syllable. “I wish to hear it.”

You kiss him instead, drawing him into a passionate embrace and climbing up into his arms when he lifts you off your feet. You hadn’t seen the bed in the corner of the room, but that’s where he takes you a moment later, tossing your “irritating human clothing” over the edge of it and onto the floor. You expect him to bend you over the pillows. You expect him to claw at your skin, to bite at your shoulders, to whisper filth into your ears.

He kisses you instead.

He kisses you like neither of you have ever borne a crown—as if he could find the answers in the hazing of your eyes when he steals your breath with his tongue, hands in your hair and burning along your spine. He teases you open with his fingers until you’re reduced to begging for release, and then he presses into you with soft, shuddering breaths spilling from his lips, eyes on your face as you toss your head back into the sheets and writhe.

He sighs your name like a psalm when you come around him, and then he pushes into you again and again, his cool fingers threading between yours and holding you firmly against the bed as you shake apart beneath him. You feel something in your chest unbreak when he bites you without fang, staying present for every moment that his lips brush against yours and your name falls into the pool of heat between you.

This time, when he comes, he shatters like a shower of glass and sparks, cresting against you like a wave and pushing you over the edge all over again, throat trapped desperately—willingly—between his teeth. When your eyes focus again, you find him looking down at you with a tenderness you’d never thought him capable of, and it makes you want to hide. “What?” you whisper up at him, trying and failing to tug a bit of the sheets over your body.

“I love you, little bug,” Ruathym whispers back, tracing your lips with his thumb. “I have done and will do so until this heart in my chest stops beating.”

“That’s so dark,” you say, “for a declaration of love.”

“It is my declaration, and I am not a man of light. Would you deny me?”

“No,” you breathe, shyly reaching up to touch his face. “I love you, too.”

Ruathym smiles, and despite his words, it lights up the room. “I know.”

You snort. “Bastard.”

“I know that, too.”

#exophilia #exophilia fic #monster romance #monster lemon #monster boyfriend #drider boyfriend #drider #monster x reader #gn reader #Ruathym #POSTED THIS TO THE WRONG BLOG AT FIRST LMAOOOO #My work

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

Can you write promp 15 to Shuu tsukiyama :) Thank you I love your writings.

I love my writing as well😉. No, but seriously guys. If it wouldn't be for my passion to write, I would have gone on a hiatus the moment I found out that I was being shadowbanned.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, clinginess, manipulation, paranoia, mentioning of kidnapping, catcalling, sexual harassment, blood, killing, Shuu being a sadist to the victim, eccentricity (?)

Prompt 15: “Shh princess… don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

"Kanae!! What happened to her?!?! Why is she crying?!?!"

You hadn't wanted to burst out in tears like this, but replaying the scene in your head over and over again like a movie had caused you unimaginable frustration and embarrassment. Now you remembered why you hated people so much, they were all just greedy and disgusting jerks. Calling you such nasty names in public and daring to go as far as following you. If Kanae wouldn't have been there with you, you didn't even want to imagine what might have happened to you.

"My poor princess! What happened?! Tell me!"

Furious tears were falling down your face, even though you had wiped them away already countless times before. You were not in a very good mood at the moment, you felt quite etchy at the moment. And that was what caused annoyance washing over you when you heard Shuu's cooing words, taking quick steps towards you to comfort you somehow. You knew what would come now. Another smothering session of his. Something you didn't need in the least bit right now. What you needed was time. Alone.

You still tried to stay as calm as possible, not wanting to make a huge scene that would only gain you more annoying attention. All the servants were honestly so much like their master, they all appeared to be overly dramatic when it came to you, the only real exception was Mirumo.

So when you suddenly stepped back from Shuu, lips pressed together and a mixed look out of sadness and anger on your face, you knew that you had hurt him. It was all too obvious judging from his wide eyes, confusion and pain already reflecting in them, and the way he had frozen when you had suddenly put a distance between you two. The hand, which he had extended, was staying in the air, shaking slightly. As always, he was overreacting.

“(y/-y/n)…What did I-“

“You did nothing Shuu. You didn’t do anything. I just wish to be alone right now. So I ask you to do me the favor and leave me alone for once. If you don’t, I might say things to you that will hurt you and which I don’t mean. Don’t test my patience for now.”

You were surprised by your own tone of voice, you sounded extremely rude, annoyance dripping from your voice like venom. It was hard to keep a calm and collected voice under such conditions. But for the reason of you having been well raised and well treated by the people in this place, you wanted to return the favor by doing the same.

You just stormed past both, Kanae and Shuu, without saying a single word, chewing furiously on your lips whilst the voice of the man kept ringing in your head. You felt like you wanted to smash something to relieve yourself of the ocean of emotions inside of you. Today had been the wrong day to convince Shuu with the help of his father to let you out without him.

“Master (y/n)!”, you heard Kanae yelling after you, followed by a thud sound that caused you to turn around shortly, feeling slightly startled by the sudden noise. But you were left feeling a bit surprised when seeing that your company for the last few hours had gone done to her knees, forehead pressed against the floor of the mansion and bowing deeply down in front of you.

“I can never forgive myself for not being able to help you. I failed you! I’m so sorry! It’s all because of my own foolishness and incompetence that you had to go through all of this!”

Her voice was shaking and you guessed that she would break out in tears at any moment, she was just as theatrical as your partner was.

“Kanae, it’s not your fault. We were under too many people, you couldn’t have done more than you did already. And that was already a big help. Also, please don’t refer to me as your master, I don’t like it when I’m being called this way. I see you as a friend, so that makes things always a bit awkward when you call me your master.”

Only the fading and fast footsteps of yours were heard in the silence which followed afterwards, leaving two people left dwelling on what had just happened. Shuu, who was staring with still shocked eyes at the stairs where you had just walked up, and Kanae, who was still remaining in her humble position. Somewhere upstairs the rather loud slam of a door was heard, indicating that you had just entered your room.

“Kanae…What…happened?”

Even her master seemed to be left flabbergasted by this sudden change of events, although tears were already starting to fill his eyes. It was not as much because of your rejecting behavior towards him, although that had hurt as well. No, it was because someone had upset his little dove so that she had cried and he hadn’t been there to protect her.

“So eine Scheiße!”, the girl suddenly shouted furiously and frustrated, slamming her head against the floor harshly as if wanting to punish herself.

By now she had bursted out in tears, drops splashing to the ground. “What am I good for when I couldn’t even keep her safe and this-this disgrace away from her?! Now she is angry! Please forgive me Master Shuu. You chose me because you trusted me to protect her, but I was the wrong person to choose.”

The last few sentences of her were told much more softer than the previous ones, only proving to Shuu that Kanae felt beyond miserable for what had happened. But it didn’t answe his question! It only made him more anxious.

What had happened whilst he hadn’t been there?! Who the duck dared to make his lovely darling cry?! Who?!

“Would you just please tell me what happened?!”, he yelled at the servant, his string of patience snapping right then and there and leading him into raising his voice.

Kanae flinched when hearing him shouting at her, the panic in his voice overwhelming her even more. It was all because of her that her master would have to go through the same pain as you as well. How should she even start explaining what had happened without him losing it right away?

“Mast-I mean (y/n)…She has been catcalled! And I was unable to take proper care of this threat! Watching this bastard…It was disgusting! Enraging! This rotten mouth of his…The things he called after her, I wish I could have gouged his tongue out! And he even had the audacity to follow her through the city, using every opportunity he had to spit more gross words out! And (y/n) had to endure all of this without losing her self-restraint. She even had to stop me. She stood her ground without breaking down in front of him. She was so admirable. I should have taken an example on her.”

The confession of the truth hurt, having to go through it all again hurt. Her master’s darling had been so brave, so perfectly in control of her emotions, so empathetic to rather let herself get humiliated instead of risking to let Kanae get triggered and reveal that she was a ghoul in the center of the city. And (y/n) still saw her as a friend! She was so kind. No wonder Master Shuu was so madly in love with her.

After that the ghoul waited for some reaction from him, shouting, yelling, crying, lashing out on her, anything. But nothing came. Instead another silence befell both of them, coming with a creepy feeling. An almost paralyzing feeling that made the violet-haired girl stay on the ground. The air felt like it was weighting her down. She knew this feeling.

Fear.

"So you're telling me that ma chérie is crying because some walking useless trash thought that he could use her and play her for his own entertainment?"

His voice was beyond spine-chilling, spoken like a true lunatic. His voice sounded for the most part quieter than expected, though it was trembling slightly. But what made her body nearly forget to function out of terror was the icy blood lust in it, like he was on the brink of insanity.

Barely, only barely did Kanae manage to lift her head, enough to catch a glimpse of his face. It only made her break out in cold sweat more. She thanked the heaven that he wasn't looking at her right now, instead staring in the empty space, a murderous grin on his face. His eyes were wide, reflecting the craziness inside of him perfectly. Just by looking at him was enough for Kanae to know that he was tearing the culprit in his mind currently to a bloody and deforedly mess. Her master was thinking like her, she had planned on doing the same. But she hadn't looked that unnerving.

"As much as I would love to torture and rip this waste of oxygen right now, this will have to wait. My princess needs me right now."

The sudden change in his whole personality was delightening yet also the slightest bit stunning for Kanae to witness, how he went from psychopathic sadist to his normal dramatic and lovesick self.

"W-wait! C-can I do something, anything to make somehow up for my failure?", Kanae stuttered out, stopping Shuu from crossing the stairs with huge steps. She had to do something, she felt truly feeble.

Shuu noticed her still majorly guilty expression, giving her a small sympathetic smile. "Don't work yourself up to hard over it now. (y/n) was only right. You would have only done much worse if you would have let lost control then and there. You already did a better job than I did in keeping composure. For now just tell the others to prepare dinner, (y/n)'s favorite. And also..."

The sudden drop in Shuu's voice and his face was a dead giveaway what he wanted to say next. "Let's meet later outside when my darling is sleeping. I believe we have something to take care of, don't we?"

That alone was enough to make Kanae stand up, the anger and feeling of helplessness scratching her feeling of self-esteem. Her master knew that she had a score to settle as well after having only been able to watch. She felt grateful that he took that into reconsideration even though she had let this happen in the first place.

"It would be my pleasure to be from any help. I feel honored that you still chose me."

"Why are you here? I think I told you I want to be alone.", you shot out after Shuu had simply knocked and entered your room without permission, giving you nearly no time to wipe away all the tears on your cheeks. You hated crying in front of people, you hated looking weak and vulnerable and being it as well. That's why you always wanted to be alone when you felt like crying.

"You expect me to just stand away when my dove clearly needs someone right now?! You were just sexually harassed and want me to leave you alone?! Forget it!"

His reaction was what you had seen coming, the paranoia coloring his face being all too obvious and he looked distressed as well. Shuu wasn't good in handling something like this at all, not when it had you being in any sort hurt involved.

"Go away. I look terrible right now.", you just said without replying to what he had just said, though this had been a rhetorical question. You didn't look very good right now, tears smearing all over your face, your eyes reddened and puffy and your nose running due to all the crying.

"That doesn't matter to me. For me you look beatiful no matter what, even if you cry."

Despite feeling upset, you managed to let a chuckling scoff out when you heard the man saying this, still not being completely used to his more cheesy lines. But right now he probablly had the intention to cheer you up.

"Good grief, you're really too much. Let go of me.", you replied slightly ironically in between your sobs when he suddenly just clinged to you, wrapping you up in his arms. It wasn’t uncomfortable though, his hug was warm and managed to soothe you a bit.

You actually shouldn’t feel this way, not in the arms of the man who used to torment and hurt you out of pure and utter sadistic fun. Back then it had just been horror for you. And only thanks to his well-mannered father things had changed for you, only then. You owed Mirumo for that more than you could effort, but his only request had been staying, knowing the attachment his son had for you would never perish. But at the same time you had the feeling his father had helped his son as well, causing you to get along with him better and better until you had started to forget where acting stopped and where real feelings were showing.

“Shh princess…don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

He had a point. That asshole had wanted to get under your skin which was the second reason you had stayed strong in front of him. But you were human as well, you had feelings which could be hurt. You were currently hurt which was why you needed some sort of comfort right now and Shuu provided it. Maybe a bit too much.

You estimated that you needed about five minutes until you had calmed somewhat down, though the after effects from your crying session still shook your body every once in a while. But you felt the tiniest bit less shitty.

“I think I’m feeling better now. Thank you…Shuu.”, you told him softly, feeling your cheeks warming up the tiniest bit.

He just let out a content ‘hmm’, his chin resting on your shoulder and his one hand playing with your hair a bit. He didn’t look like he had any intentions to move despite you giving him the look. You had a rather silly bad feeling.

“Do you want to let me go?”

“Never. At least not until the dinner is prepared.”

“Shuu.”, you protested slightly, pushing him a bit against the chest which turned out to be good for nothing. He didn’t budge. Instead you could almost see with your inner two eyes on the back of your head that he was grinning upon your attempt to remove him.

“Oh well. I’ll let him have it his way. He deserves it.”

Kanae was walking, as quietly as possible, nervously back and forth. She would never blame her master for anything at all, but maybe she just felt extremely uneasy right now that she wanted to leave desperately. Tokyo was huge and finding one single man would be hard, though she remembered the few broken pieces of informations she had heard when the man had been taken away from some other people who seemed to know him.

“I have to avenge (y/n) or else I’ll never be able to feel like I deserve this happiness.”, the girl thought bitterly, intending to bring suffering over this piece of garbage.

“You seem rather impatient. Believe me, I am just as eager as you are, though we shouldn’t waste too much time with this sad excuse of a man.”

Kanae quickly turned around, anticipation shining from her eyes when she saw Shuu appearing from the shadows, already having put on fitting clothes and holding his mask in his hand.

“I apologize, I simply couldn’t bring myself to leaving my princess alone. She looked too gorgeous to not marvel over. That’s why I want to speed this all up, I want to return to her as fast as possible. It of course doesn’t mean I intend to let this person easily of the hook.”

He chuckled a bit, for a few moments softness dominating his face when recalling the sweet memories of his darling sleeping peacefully. But in the blink of an eye he changed, the lust to kill someone taking over him and twisting his face into something entirely else.

“Kanae, do you know where we should start?”

His voice was terrifying, his feelings and intentions dripping freely from it and a malicious glint shining in his eyes. Not like Kanae minded, her own face being overshadowed by her negative feelings.

“Yes, I do have an idea.”

#yandere tokyo ghoul #yandere shuu #yandere shuu tsukiyama

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yuzukult · 4 years

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effortlessly pt. 9 || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly pairing: jungkook x reader words: 5.0k genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut some chapters notes: this is more of a self-realization chapter, less of the romance :) oc development & one more chapter left before an epilogue!!!! thank you all for your support and patience, i know i took a while with this one, mostly because i really wanted to take a break and write something else. :)

series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue

Yura’s cheeks are stuffed with the pastries from the bakery that was recommended by one of Jungkook’s teammates, something you’ve been meaning to take her to lately but with your mind flooded with thoughts on your future, there hasn’t been much time to dedicate to her.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” She’s eyeing you quizzically, uncomfortable with your distraught gaze. “You seem like you have something to say, so spit it.”

“I’m sorry,” You blurt with an agonizing frown. “I’ve been a terrible friend.”

“Why do you say that?”

Pushing the plate of baked goods away from you, your body slouches in the seat. The aroma of the flakey croissant beside the in-house made strawberry jam wasn’t appealing anymore and your previous conceptions stole away your appetite. “You didn’t tell me you wanted to be a cook.”

She rolls her eyes with a soft smile, shoving the plate back toward you. “Eat, loser.”

“Oh, come on. Stop acting like you’re not mad at me. I had no idea you were even going through anything—”

“Idiot, I’m not going through anything. I’m also not trying to be a cook. I’m trying to be a chef.” She corrects you, tearing off a piece of the croissant and bringing it to your lips. “Now take a bite of this, it’s crazy good.”

Abiding by her instruction, you open your mouth for her to feed you, chewing the soft pastry as it melts effortlessly on your tongue. “Good, right?” You nod in agreement. “I can’t help but think that I could’ve been there for you when you needed me the most. You were going through something, you were just as lost as I am.”

“Well, don’t feel bad. I kind of knew for a while, but I wasn’t sure. Sometimes we have to go through things alone to learn more about ourselves. Then Jungkook asked if I could help him with your little date, so I offered to do a picnic basket. It was for practice, and he seemed to be okay with it. How was the omelette?”

“Amazing. Which is why I was upset that I wasn’t a good enough friend to know that you cook so well.”

“Oh, please. Stop exaggerating... but really though. Was it that good?” Her eyes lit up at the compliment, emitting a chuckle from you. “It was, Yura. I’m seriously so proud of you. I wish I knew about your talents sooner.”

Yura’s kind and patient, the qualities in a friend that everyone searches for. She has developed into a person who you found yourself depending on, someone who you wanted to stay around to share both good and bad times. Knowing that you weren’t there when she potentially needed you only made you disappointed in yourself. It was your turn to return the actions she provided for you; it was your turn to be a good friend.

She’s rolling her eyes again, a smile appearing upon her lips. “I told you, this is nothing. I’m still learning things about myself, so don’t worry, you didn’t miss out on anything.” You don’t believe her, but you take her words nonetheless, because you promise yourself and to her that from this day on, you’d try harder to be a better friend to her.

Walking out the café, a backpack slung over your shoulder, you glance at Yura who zips up her hoodie, snuggling in closer to the fabric to regain warmth as the night approaches along with the cool wind that blows in your direction. “Are you going to take the apprenticeship?”

“How’d you even hear about that?” You’re surprised she knows this; there hadn’t been much exchange between the two of you since the last time you hung out. Yura scoffs, shaking her head as she fixes the straps of her backpack, strolling down the street beside you. “I’m your best friend, of course I know about it.”

“Jungkook? Hoseok? Which one was it that spilled?”

“Jungkook,” She confirms, a playfully innocent grin glued to her face. “But that’s besides the point. You got an offer of a lifetime, what does that mean for you?” There's not much of a reaction from you, other than a slight shrug that you give her. It seemed great— getting an apprenticeship for a position that isn't for just anyone, but for you specifically. This was an endeavor that you never imagined yourself encountering. Goals and aspirations were a list to some people, especially Jungkook, but for you, that list hadn't been anything more than a title. So what did it mean to you, this opportunity that presented itself? "I don't know," You respond honestly, uncertain of what next steps to take. "I kind of am going through a dilemma." Yura raises a brow questioningly at you. "What is it?" You chew your bottom lip for a moment, trying to gather all your thoughts in a place before taking a deep breath of courage before exposing yourself to your friend. "Is it weird that I've been with Jungkook all my life, and now my so-called aspiration is on the same route of his?"

"Nobody is calling it that." "But if he's on the path of being a professional— what does it mean for me? Am I just a follower? Oh, Jungkook wants to be a professional swimmer, and now his girlfriend wants to do the same thing. How stupid does that sound?"

She shakes her head in disagreement, walking side by side with you along on the sidewalk, the sun slowly beginning to set whilst the wind makes its appearance again, sending chills down your spine. “Why does everything have to be about Jungkook? Why can’t it be about you for once? When you think of swimming, you think of Jungkook immediately, but why can’t you consider it being something you’re interested in?”

“Because Yura, I don’t know!” You exclaim, stopping in your tracks. It was hard, dreadfully hard making a decision that you weren’t sure of. You’re only in your teens, you think to yourself, at such a young age with the responsibility of making choices that may determine where your route is headed for the rest of your life. In all honesty, you want to cry; force yourself to shed all the tears even if you have to because the amount of pressure sitting on top of your shoulders was wearing you down.

You’re immensely grateful for the opportunity that just happened to land at your feet, but with a chance to do something big, you can’t help but feel that guilt eating you inside, wondering if this was truly what you wanted to do, and what if it wasn’t? Did it mean you took away the possibility of an experience from someone who yearned for it more than you did?

Yura ceases her steps, eyes meeting yours that were pools of pity. “It’s okay to not know. But you’re running out of time and have to pick what you want to do soon.”

“But Jungkook really wants me to do it.”

“Why do you care about what Jungkook thinks?”

Because Jungkook is the only person in my life whose opinions that I actually care about, is what you want to say to her, but it goes against all of the rules you’ve given yourself. You want to be independent, you want to be selfish in these moments that allowed you to, but at the end of the day, pleasing other people was a flaw you had never been able to grow out of.

“I don’t,” You lie, fiddling with the straps of your bag in between your nimble fingers. “I don’t care about what he thinks.”

She’s flabbergasted. “You absolutely do care. You care about what he thinks, and you’re afraid of disappointing him.” Yura says your name lovingly, in a tone that brings chills down your spine because she’s serious this time, a rarity in its form. “Please stop caring about what others think of you and make this decision on your own. There’s a chance that Jungkook won’t be with you at the end of this road, and you have to be prepared for it.”

“But it’s so freaking hard, Yura,” You finally admit, bending down to sit at the curb on the street. “I spent almost my entire life with Jungkook. My parents never approved of anything and weren’t ever happy with anything I did; he’s the one person who has supported anything I did and all I worry about is if he’s going to turn away like they did.”

“Did you just forget my existence again?” Yura interjects, sitting down beside you, giving you a slight nudge. “Listen, whether or not Jungkook decides to be by your side for this entire thing, I’m still here, right? It’s true, I can’t swoon you nor can I give you kisses because well, no offense, you’re not exactly my type—“ you snort, “—but I can be the friend portion here. You got me, you don’t need some boy you love, you have a friend.”

How crazy is it that you’re living in a fanfic trope? Your best friend from childhood is your neighbor, your first kiss, first time, first kiss... the list goes on.

So when you’re walking in the direction of where he stands in the parking lot of your high school, Jungkook’s car parked alongside his other teammates, while he leans against the hood of his car with the guys crowding around him. He looks like every other main character of a romantic film; hair slicked back, changed out of his uniform and swim clothes, now in a t-shirt that’s tight around his frame paired with light washed denim pants with tears and rips that hugs his thighs so deliciously. The laugh that escapes his lips is melodic, melting your heart seeing how happy he looks just by being with his friends.

You’re going to miss the hell out of this if he’s disappointed in your decision.

Approaching the group, the guys holler at the sight of you. “Hey! You’re finally here! Jungkook refuses to leave without you, so we’ve been waiting around until you came.”

“Were you?” You ask, eyes meeting your boyfriend. “Are you waiting for something in particular?”

Jungkook glances at the guys before back at you nervously, palms getting sweaty. “Uh... how do you feel about coming with us tonight?”

“Where to?”

Hoseok snorts from behind, almost bursting into laughter at how anxious Jungkook is around you. It’s cute, really, because despite officially together, he still acts as though he’s pining over his crush on you. “Oh, come on, it’s not hard to ask, just ask her!” Jimin adds into the push by actually pushing him.

Jungkook stumbles closer to you, slightly breathless. “So... there’s this party tonight...”

You giggle— mostly because he seems as smitten with you as you are with him. “Jeon, are you trying to ask me to be your date to a party or something? Why are you jittery?”

He is. And he can’t help but feel like his heart quickens whenever he sees you in a skirt and your hair down, first few buttons of your uniform unfastened and blazer hanging off your arm. Even in makeup that’s been on for 8 hours straight, he thinks you’re pretty. “Yeah,” his response is airy, “I’m hoping we could set aside a sleepover and head over to Hoseok’s place tonight to blow off some steam. How’s that sound?” Chuckling at his lack of confidence in the question, you nod in agreement. “Okay, that sounds great. When are we heading out?”

Getting ready for the party proves to be one of the most nerve-wreaking things you’ve done in a while, including that apprenticeship offer.

“Why why why are these jeans so tight?”

“This dress shows my belly rolls.”

You’re patting the fabric that’s wrinkled around your stomach region as you sigh when you see the sideview of your body in the mirror. “I should workout. Does Jungkook find this attractive?”

“And this skirt is too short. It shows my freaking underwear.” Bending over in the mirror to see yourself from behind, you grumble at the sight.

“Wait— turn over here, I want to see.”

“Holy—“ Flinching in the direction of the voice, you place a hand on your chest to ease your breathing; Jungkook sitting at his window sill, hair let loose, fresh from a wash, still dressed in his sweats. “You look cute in that. Twirl for me. Oh, and bend over too.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not going to bend over for you, Jeon.” He frowns. “Why not? I want to see what color your panties are.” Just when you’re ready to drop the blinds on him, he has his hand out. “Wait wait wait, don’t close it. Wear those jeans you wore the other day. And that black t-shirt. I think you look pretty even in casual clothes.”

While searching in your closet for said outfit, he stays seated by the window, resting his chin on his arm. “So... can we talk about break?”

“Uh, sure,” You respond, only half paying attention as you’re shuffling through the tremendous amount of clothes you have, the space between your brows crinkling in focus. “What about it?”

“So... the team and I had these plans to go on a lake trip...”

“Okay...?”

“And it’s an all guys trip.” He finishes, finally getting to the point. “I know we talked about the possibility of spending break together—“

“You should go, Bub.” You interrupt, eyes soon lighting up when you find the shirt, then meeting with his gaze. “I think it’ll be good for you. We’re not going to be in high school forever and you guys might separate when you get to college.”

Jungkook thinks he hit the jackpot with you. From your understanding nature, to your independence, support... all the qualities you had were stacked up on the pros pile for him. “You’ll be okay? Without me?”

He asks this question and it stings a bit. You know he doesn’t mean it in that way but you can’t help but think about it in that direction. There had been a lot of dependency on Jungkook throughout your friendship; hardship, accomplishments, direction of your dreams— he’d be there for all, guiding you and lifting you up. But did he think that you wouldn’t be able to be without him?

“I’ll be fine,” You reply, attempting to hide the disappointment in your voice. Head peeking out the window, you grin mischievously. “Well, I’m going to get ready now... so...” Quickly backing away, you shut the blinds immediately, and Jungkook groans. “I wanted to see a show!”

Arriving at the party with Jungkook by your side is more than an accessory— he’s the main point of an outfit. You learn that he wanted you to wear that t-shirt just because he wanted to match with you, knowing that you’d oppose it but would be too lazy to even change afterwards.

“You guys came!” Hoseok cries, weaving his way through the crowd of people while having to raise his voice for you to hear. He has a solo cup in hand, liquid sloshing around as people push and shove around him. “Go to the kitchen! Grab a drink!”

To two of you do, eventually Jungkook being pulled away by friends, chatting up a storm with his face slowly growing crimson from his asian flush. Deciding that it was a night to enjoy yourself, you play around with the ingredients from his fridge, cooking yourself up a mojito.

“Are you making a mojito? Can I join and make myself one too?”

“Sure,” You grin, looking up at the stranger. “Help yourself.”

This girl is absolutely gorgeous. Hair jet black and straight, stretching to her lower back with skin milky smooth and makeup done effortlessly naturally, with a body so slim and appealing in her body-con dress, a sight for sore eyes, you’re suddenly boiling inside because you’re wishing it was you. You learn her name is Somin, a University student who attended your high school last year, friends with the swim team but you never met her before.

“So, what brings you here?” She asks, searching through the drawers for a knife. “You don’t seem like the type to go to parties.”

Rinsing a couple limes under the faucet beside her, you nod. “Yeah, I’m not. Got dragged here so I guess I’m left with no choice. What about you? Trying to get away tonight?”

She laughs, so feminine and light. “Actually, trying to get closer. There’s a guy I’ve had my eyes on for the longest time. His mom and mine used to be friends so I saw me occasionally. I mentioned that I was in love with him and he freaked and left. But! I heard from Hoseok that he was coming tonight, so I’m hoping I get to see him.”

“Ah,” You respond, mouth open while taking the knife from her hands, slicing the lime into pieces. “Well, I wish you luck. I know how that feels.”

“Wait!” She exclaims, nudging you as you wince, startled and almost cutting yourself by her sudden action. “He’s coming!” Looking from the cutting board laying on the island counter, your eyes trail up to see the familiar figure walking toward the two of you as Somin waves eagerly. “Jungkook!”

She’s in love with Jungkook? When the hell did she know him?

“Oh, Somin!” He greets, smile so wide from the amount of alcohol in him. “I didn’t know you were here. I see you’ve met my girlfriend.” Well, how awkward. Somin turns to look at you, mouth agape, shunned. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah!” He’s almost yelling in your ear now, rounding the counter to pull you close with a hand on your waist. “The love of my life. Isn’t she so cute?” Your lips tug into a painful smile, apologetic toward Somin. How is it that every female you encounter just so happens to be so in love with Jeon Jungkook?

You can’t even blame them, in all honestly. He’s handsome, generous, has a car and can drive, a freaking athlete, and he can sing. This guy was the entire package and he hasn’t even graduated high school yet. Forget high school girls chasing after him, Jungkook already had college girls swooning and it’s left you wondering what it’d be like once the two of you head to University.

That night home, you drive. Deciding to spend the night taking care of him since he seemed totally wasted, you’re on route to his house while pondering deeply about the events of the night.

“What’s going on in your head, bubba?” Despite the amount of slurs that slip from his mouth that night, he’s oddly stable.

“Bubba?” You laugh at the new nickname. “Uh, just some stuff.”

“Be honest?” He asks, looking over at you with glassy eyes as his head is laid back against the seat. “I wanna hear what you’re thinking about. I like hearing you talk.”

Licking your lips, you’re having an inner debate on whether or not to let Jungkook in on your thoughts. Succumbing to his request, you sigh because communication is important in a relationship. On the bright side, he might forget about this conversation tomorrow anyways.

“The girl earlier tonight? Somin? She told me she was in love with you.”

“Huh?” He seems just as surprised at this new information. “That’s crazy. We used to hang out during Sundays when my mom would force me to go to church. Then I got old enough to decide if I wanted to go or not.”

You hum, stopping the car at the red light. “Well, it had me thinking. We’re going off to college soon. What does that mean for us? You’d have girls dropping at your feet, completely smitten with you. What if I end up at another college?”

“We’ll figure it out then. But I know how much I’m in love with you, whatever you do and wherever you go. I’ll be sad if I can’t follow you or you follow me to college, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.” Although he’s slow when he speaks, he finishes off what’s on his own mind before drifting off into slumber before you could even chime in a response.

A drunken man's words are a sober man's thoughts.

It takes a lot of soul searching.

You’ve spent a week away from everyone— Yura, your family, everyone, even Jungkook. He thinks he did something wrong but you assure him that he hasn’t, rather that you needed some time for yourself. Coincidentally enough, that week was break; Jungkook and his teammates had a vacation planned and Yura picked up a part-time job at a bakery anyway.

Maybe it’s the breeze from the salty sea, the humidity sticking to your skin or the taste of the strawberry ice cream that hits your tongue, but the air feels lighter here. Inhaling in the fresh aroma the beach brings, it brings you back to when you came here last time with Jungkook and he professes his love. It brings a smile that tugs on the edges of your lips, a memory that you would never forget, your first love reciprocating his feelings for you.

“Oh, did you drop this?”

Quickly turning, you realize that what was in the hands of the person in front of you is your wallet—how irresponsible do you have to be that you dropped your wallet and didn’t even notice? “Oh my gosh, fuck, it’s my wallet!” You call out, grabbing it from their grasp before meeting eyes with them. “Thank you, I wouldn’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t find it!”

The person waves you off, a grin drawn across the face of a male, cheeks so supple and milky smooth. “Think nothing of it. Be careful though, there’s a lot of pickpocketers around here.”

You nod in agreement, lips pressed in a straight line, slightly disappointed in yourself. It’s like he reads your mind because he then says, “It’s okay though. It happens to the best of us.”

“Can I at least get you something for not robbing me? And my fate being that you so happen to not be a pickpocketer?”

The guy laughs; something about the warmness he radiates makes you trust him, fraternizing with this stranger with qualities of a sweet friend. Something about Junmyeon makes you fearless, trusting him enough to propose the idea of treating him out to anything for being a good samaritan.

You learn that his name was Junmyeon, and he’s way older than you in comparison, but he has a lot of words of wisdom to share. After a lot of convincing, Junmyeon takes your offer for a cup of coffee—iced please, he begs, and in exchange, he in addition, tells you about his life like a middle-aged man.

He’s only 29.

“You’ve got a couple years ahead of me,” You begin, and it only sparks Junmyeon to raise a brow at you questioningly. “I’m stuck in a dilemma. How did you know what you wanted to do in life?”

Junmyeon chortles, mostly because he finds it interesting that you seem to think he has his shit together. The both of you had decided to take your cool drinks out on one of the benches on the boardwalk that faces the water. “You realize that I’m just twenty-nine right, not ninety-two?” You blink in confusion at his light-hearted joke, watching the sunset behind him. He continues on, “It means that I’m not that old, kiddo. I’m a bit older than you. And despite what you think, I don’t have my shit together.”

“Well, what did you do?”

“Well,” He starts, imitating your own words against you, “for one, I graduated college at the age of twenty-three. With a degree I didn’t end up using, by the way, and decided that the best thing for me at the time was to follow this girl that I was head over heels with. That being said, it didn’t end very well. Fast forward to today, I’m back in school trying to get my PhD... in a completely different field than what you’d expect.” Reminiscing back to his past mistakes, he shakes his head in disbelief. “There are just things you should be selfish about, and it took me a while to finally get that.”

“How did you decide on those things? And how do I decide what I want to do?”

“Well, for one, if you’re really hesitant about it, you probably don’t want it.”

And that’s when it hits.

A day at the beach alone, meeting a stranger who finds your wallet and gifts you words of advice was more of a helpful trip than expected.

“You... got really tan?”

“You can be honest. I know I’m more red than tan.” You stifle a laugh, watching from his bed as Jungkook enters his room with his bags, waddling around to unpack his belongings from his trip. He’s in so much pain, and not to mention crimson red like he’s Santa’s suit, mostly from forgetting to put on sunscreen despite the many exchanged texts reminding him to remember to put on SPF. Turns out the entire team was burnt as well.

Browsing through a magazine that you found on his bedside table, you smile at the sight of your boyfriend wincing while sitting on the carpeted floor, attempting to unzip his duffle bag. “I didn’t know you were still shy seeing me. You’re all red and blushy.” You joke, leaning over to tap his nose, only for him to groan in agony. “Baby, I love seeing you, but I’m resenting asking you to come over.”

You gasp in feign surprise with a hand on your chest in exaggeration. “Jeon Jungkook, you couldn’t possibly mean that, could you?”

He throws a dirty t-shirt at you in hopes it lands on your face, and lucky for him, it shoots his target.. “Bullseye,” He says, content with his shot. “I worked out in that, just so you know.” Grimacing and tossing it back at him, he lets out a chuckle at your disgust. “That was horrible. It reeks.”

“Speaking of horrible, I couldn’t believe we didn’t spend the break together. I know it sucked without me. How was your week away?”

You roll your eyes, opening a drawer to drop the magazine back into it. “You’re the one who made plans, lover boy, with your group of other boys. But it was great, I think I learned a lot of things about myself.”

“That’s a step in the right direction. What’d you do in that time?”

Where to even start? Do you tell him about Junmyeon? What about the weather down the shore—humid and sticky, just how Jungkook likes it— or maybe that funnel cake you got to try that was so sweet and melted on the tip of your tongue? Or would that defeat the purpose and he’d be sad he missed out on that?

“I met someone,” is the words you manage to formulate out of your mouth, and the expression on his face is distorted in shock. “Oh— wait, not like that, I just met someone at the beach and they became a friend.”

“Scare a guy to the point of breaking his heart, why don’t you?” He’s stopped to listen to you in the midst of packing, attention fully yours. “So, what about this friend?”

Leaning against the bed frame, you take a moment to let your mind sink into your thoughts. There’s a lot to unpack, more than what’s in Jungkook’s duffle bag that’s similar to a clown car, but you want to do this right. “He gave me some life advice. He’s a bit older and gave me some guidance that could help me on what next steps I should be taking.”

“Does that mean you’re ready to make a decision?”

You chew on your bottom lip. In the end, you know that whatever you choose is solely based on your happiness but you can’t help but worry about what Jungkook thinks. “I think I am. What do you think I should do?” Maybe you should test the waters first.

He wrinkles his brows in perplexity. “What do you mean?”

You shrug at this question. “What do you think I should choose?”

Jungkook stops pulling things from his bag, eyes locking with yours and you feel your chest tighten at the serious shift in the atmosphere. “You’re not really asking me this, are you?” Now you’re the confused one. “What?”

“I don’t care what you choose. I mean, I care, but I don’t care as in I won’t be upset if you rather do one thing over the other. Is this what’s bothering you? Do you feel guilty about all of this? I told you, I’m always here for you, even when I’m trying to drill that into your head it seems like you don’t get it.”

“So...”

“So if you said that you didn’t want the apprenticeship, I wouldn’t be opposed to you going another route. Vice versa, same result. We’ve been together our entire lives, it would take a lot for me to actually upset with you. I just need you to be honest.”

Your heart swells. If anything, that’s all you really wanted— his support.

Sitting in the seat that you presumed that Jungkook had sat in when he’d gotten his offer, you feel slightly uneasy finding yourself in this situation. The room is filled with cases of books, most that you’ve never heard or seen before; the unfamiliarity churning a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. There’s even a fireplace in this office, a portrait of what seems to be one of the founders of the university that hangs over it, and a fuzzy... bear rug that lays in front of it.

The recruiter closes the door behind her, striding to her desk before settling down in her large swivel chair that only seems to make her look even more powerful than she was already.

“So,” She begins, straightening the pile of papers on her desk. “You’re here to talk about the offer?”

#jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts #bangtan #jungkook x reader #gyukultfics #highschool!au #bts high school au #f2l #jeon jungkook

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oingo233 · 3 years

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Rapture is a Boy (2)

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior? And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader

Warning: brief talk of weight (as someone who is overweight I would never write anything or imply that being overweight is a bad thing, I know society deems it as less beautiful but the truth is that we are so beautiful, every single one of us despite our weight/size or appearance, we just have a different journey to self-love than those who are conventionally pretty, a much harder path to confidence no doubt, but let me remind you that you are breath taking because most to all of beauty is the uniqueness that one has), some angst sprinkled into this one, get ready for loads of it later, bitches like em’ sad, it’s me, I’m bitches. Also, there are some cuss words, nothing too bad though. Self-doubt, cheating is mentioned.

Authors note: I try to keep my writing(self inserts) gender, body type, ethnicity and house neutral/not specified. If I ever slip up please let me know so that I can change it. Remus’s/3rd POV is italicized, it switches back and forth briefly to better show the relationship and luv. Shit will go down in the next chapter, enjoy the little amounts of fluff and joy in this one while it lasts mwhahaha!

Word Count: 2k

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

Part Two

**** Chocolate Pudding ****

I was distracted in class for the second time this month, all because of Remus Lupin. He plagued my mind, and now Lucy accompanies him even in my thoughts. I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions, and I almost never do. But Lily saying I should talk to him, and Lucy running off to comfort Remus when it should have been me, pushed me into a full spring leap. And the conclusion I leapt to was a heartbreaking one, but with all the confidence of the world I believed it. It’s the only thing that makes sense with what I know now. He’s cheating on me.

He told me earlier today, he will be studying in the library with the rest of the marauders before dinner. I will meet and talk to him there, I decided, wringing my fingers and then wiping the sweat off on my robes. Because although yes, I do think he could be cheating on me, I know Remus is a great person. Great people don’t cheat, right?

“Lily, you don’t think he’s cheating do you?” I blurted out, whispering it softly to her through her blockade of dark red hair. She turned to me flabbergasted, her mouth agape to me.

“No,” She says definitely. “Remus is not that person...” There is a silence as I nod blankly at her, I know she is being truthful but she wants to say more. I tug on her robe sleeves, I need to hear what she wants to say but can’t bring myself to ask aloud. What if I don’t like the answer?

“But I think, that ya should talk to him about it. He seems off, no? Maybe it isn’t Lucy at all. You’re jumping to conclusions.” She gives me a pointed look and I nod now in both acceptance and thanks.

“You’re right. I’m being a git.” We both laugh, my mind now eased slightly. We continue to talk amongst ourselves here n there throughout the class. I mentioned James once and she glares at me, but I smile and say,

“Gee Lily, your hair looks awfully bright with that complimentary blush of yours.” She nearly shoves me off my stool. Spending alone time with Lily (despite the large group of students around us) was refreshing, I felt a lot lighter. But the thought of this up coming confrontation with the love of my life once again settled above me like a dark cloud.

It was the last period and it ended minutes ago, I am now making my way up to the library. To Remus. The doors were heavy but glided over the floor as I opened them, the room smelt of old books and dusty pages. I inhaled deeply and smiled to myself, it smells slightly like Remus. Speaking of, his laughter rings out and without a second to waste, Peter, Remus, Sirius and James are shushed aggressively.

I turn around the corner to finally meet them and they’re huddled over some large piece of parchment. Giggling and whispering to themselves, heads nearly clinking together. I clear my throat as so not to intrude. Remus quickly turns to me, his eyes wide in surprise before he stands and hugs me, enclosing my head in his chest.

“(y/n), what a lovely surprise. How was class?” I muffled a hello into his sweater, and can hear shuffling around, from the boys and only when the sound ceased did Remus let go of me. He rubbed his hands down my arms, and smiled warmly down at me. Before I could answer James leans his head in his hand, breathing heavy, he turns to me.

“How’s Lils? Ya have that class with her, right?” I roll my eyes and sit down beside them, Remus stands behind me. The paper is gone but I pay it no mind.

“Yes,” I chuckle to myself, remembering her blush at just the mention of his name. “She’s doing quite well actually. And you boys? Any mischievous plans stuffed up your sleeves? 20, maybe?” They all look at one another and shrug, Peter shook his head yes. Sirius hit his arm and shook his head no, dramatically until Peter followed along. Then the two turn to me and I laugh, not pushing the obvious truth of a scheme from them. They’re sly when they want to be, so this was a definite bashful action. Cheeky.

“Hey love, we’ll meet you down at dinner yeah?” My heart sank for the 2nd, no 3rd time that day. When did Remus get so dismissive? The boys stared up at him a little, mouths agape before they turned to me with soft smiles.

“We’ll miss you dearly until then,” Sirius adds, once again in high spirits.

“Yes, and don’t eat all the pudding in spite.” Peter makes sure to add after last time I did such a thing. It was Peters favorite and he once said I looked bigger when I returned at the train station for the beginning of the year, after the summer of puberty, when really he was just awkwardly talking about how I grew taller and more into myself, good bigger, he thought. But, like anyone with ears I assumed he was calling me fat (fat and all shapes and sizes is beautiful and worthy of love and appreciation, but when someone, such as Peter, implies such a thing to another, in such a way, they could only mean it harmfully so of course I was not going to let that shite slide), so that night I shoveled in all the chocolate pudding before he could get even one bite.

Remus was laughing hysterically with the other boys, as I smirked a blob of pudding fell out between my lips, and Peter looked like he was going to cry. I remember Remus pulled me aside that night to clear up the misunderstanding. He awkwardly confessed it was about my surprising change in appearance, and that I actually look very beautiful. We snogged later that year and the rest is history. (Though the romantic build up was a lot more romantic than just snogging, Remus can be a romantic kind of guy, now was not once of those moments.)

I turn to him.

“Okay. See you then!” I fake the cheeriness in my voice and hope my breath isn’t too shaky as I go and kiss Remus’s cheek. He kisses the very edge of my lips distractedly as I pull away, far from our usual goodbye kisses. I make my way out of the library before stopping in my tracks to yell something over my shoulder.

“The pudding is yours Peter, though it’ll look more appetizing each time you bring that night up,” I expected laughter, or for Peter to say something, anything in response but instead there is silence. I turn around to see the large parchment out again, and the boys huddled over it animatedly.

Thoroughly aggravated, I huff my way down to the dorm and rant to Lily about it all. Then she suggests both the best and the worst idea we, as intellectual, well-put together (well we like to think so) people, have had all day.

“Well, maybe we could throw a little party? Lift your spirits a wee bit, huh love?” Lily suggest, after the fifth time I explain the library scene and how rejected it made me feel. Remus did not want my company, he sat behind my chair and waited until he could ‘politely’ tell me to go, after ignoring me half the day since the incident with Snape.

“And,” she continues, twiddling her thumbs anxiously. “it can be like an impromptu date for Remus and you, if he comes, because of course we’ll invite him-”

“And James,” I smirk, she glares at the way I rudely cut her off but I think she did it more so because of the blush that arose to her cheeks.

“er, sure. But as I was saying, it could be good for you too. I know he hasn’t been spending much time with you lately and everything.” She glances over at a giggling Lucy adorned in red and gold. I scoff bitterly.

“Yeah we haven’t. But ya know what, it’s nothing new innit. He always gets like this.” I stab my dinner with a fork and hear a chuckle coming up from behind me. Peter glances over my shoulder at the chocolate pudding bowl in front of me, seeing as it is still very much full he bows to me and kisses my cheek.

“Thank you, O’ so gracious one,” I can’t fight the laugh, though Remus may upset me, his friends are good blokes that always cheer me up, or at least try too.

The boys all pile in next to us, though it’s been a while since dinner started, they’re a bit late because of whatever they were doing in the library.

Remus saw you and his heart stopped you were, as always breath taking but tonight you looked off, you were stabbing your food with frustration, something must be wrong? You always happily eat your meals, and your laughter is always the first he hears when he walks into the great hall. He watches as Peter makes you laugh, he feels a little off seeing you act this way with Peter. You, lately haven’t been as light hearted around him.

He sits down next to you and is eager to apologize for his behavior earlier. He wanted to take the words back right after his comment. As if he wasn’t feeling bad enough James and the boys ripped into him.

“Bloody hell mate, you might as well demanded she left.” The room was silent as all 4 of them nodded in agreement, Remus included. He sat down and grumbled to himself as they pulled out the marauders map. The very reason he was eager for you to leave, he didn’t want you to see the latest secret of his. Another one of his reasons to be riddled with guilt, he felt so dishonest with you. And he’s been more and more moody with the full moon coming out tonight.

Tonight, as they made their way to the shrieking shack they were going to map it on the marauders map. They were so close to finishing and Remus was eager to, between the map and his soon to be shift he’s had less time to spend with you. Which means less time with your smile, and kisses, and hugs and laughter and bloody hell did he feel like we was going through withdrawal.

But he feels, though the boys disagree, that he should keep his distance from you before full moons. He gets too quite, and angry, and annoyed, he’d hate for you to see this side of him, and all his flaws, and leave him. He wouldn’t survive the pain, he wanted to marry you one day.

“ello’ darling,” Remus whispers into my ear, kissing my cheek. James stares at us before looking lovingly at Lily, who is looking back with raised brows As if to say ‘what now, potter’.

“ello’ darling,” James copies, leaning down to give Lily a kiss on her cheek but she pushes his shoulders back, nonetheless he pulls back with a smile.

“Worth a shot, you’ll miss it one day Evans, once my heart has had enough and I become a reclusive slug,” He says matter-of-factly as he begins to pile food onto his plate.

“I’d act quick Lily, he’s already beginning to look like one.” Sirius leans into to say, though his hair dangles in the pudding making Peter yelp. Remus removes the pudding and adds some to Peters plate.

“You should thank him, grease adds flavor to everything.” Sirius gasps and turns to Remus with slitted eyes. The whole rest of us are laughing, and trying desperately to keep the volume at a minimum as Sirius runs his hand through his hair and tries to rub “the grease” over Remus face.

“If only grease could erase that smirk off your face, mate. I’ll find a way,” Sirius grits as he wrestles Remus who is bumping slightly into me fighting him off. He turns his head during the battle of a lifetime, and apologizes to me for the rough housing, though the look in his eyes seemed like he was sorry for much more. I was taken aback slightly, so I shrug with a loving smile.

Eventually we all finish our dinner and Lily invites the table to our party, all of Gryffindor table actually. Many cheered and said they’d come and bring friends, some even declared to bring butterbeer by the jugfull. But the Marauders just stared at us with a frown.

“We, uh, we can’t make it tonight. Haven’t done enough studying for the exam. I can’t fail this one (y/n), you know that...” Peter trails off and I almost feel bad, maybe the party was a bad idea. The boys all nod along and Lily and I swallow our pride and doubts before telling them it was fine.

Lily holds my arm as we walk back.

“They’re just studying, nothing else to it.” But we both saw the way Lucy stuck behind as well.

Taglist:

@crazylokonugget @beyondprincess

#young remus imagine #remus lupin #young remus lupin #young marauders #the marauders #harry potter imagines #harry potter #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #neutral reader #angst #remus angst #hogwarts #love #Teen Romance #werewolves #young remus x reader

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btsmakesmehappy · 4 years

Text

Palate Cleanser | 1

Genre: Agent au, friends with benefit (sort of), Stranger to lover, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

Pairing: Agent!Taehyung x Baker!reader

Word Count: 5,6k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: broken heart, cursing.

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 completed

Summary: Taehyung needs something to take his mind off his broken heart. His best friend, Jimin, suggests that he should meet another woman and the first woman he met was you. Would you help him even though you have your own problem, that you hate men?

a/n: Hello again! This mini series is a continuation from Broken Vase. You can read it as as a standalone, but it’s better if you read it first for better understanding! As always, english is not my first language, so I would really appreciate if you give me correction or any suggestion. Please tell me if you want to be added on the taglist!

Also this is gonna be a part of The Company series (Click it for agents’ description!). Please look forward for it!

Taehyung walks mindlessly in the city. It is already noon, but still, he doesn’t want to go back to the company. The sun shines brightly like it is mocking him. And how the roads are full of couples, it is like hell to him. He hates it. He wants to be with someone too. Someone whose hand he can hold in the middle of a busy street. Not just someone, but someone he truly loves. That particular one who chooses Namjoon over him. He knows that the girl loves Namjoon deeply. He always knows it. Yet he refuses to acknowledge it. He thought that if he stays with her by her side, she will reciprocate his feelings. But it is just a mere hope. Love is not that simple.

His phone vibrates inside his pocket. He looks at it only to find Jimin is calling him. “What do you want, chim?” He then moves to the sidewalk, to take the call. His back leans onto a brick wall.

“Hello to you too. Where the fuck are you? The meeting is in 5 minutes, you know!” Jimin yells from the telephone. Taehyung taps his foot impatiently, waiting for Jimin to stop his blabbering. “Just come here fast!”

Taehyung interrupts, “I am not coming.”

There is silence on the phone and when Taehyung wants to turn his phone off, Jimin yells again. “Are you crazy? The meeting is about our mission in Hawaii. All of the agents who worked in it must be present. Our boss and that girl are gonna ask me about you.”

Taehyung can feel his heart stop for a bit after hearing about that girl. The girl he loves. But still, he doesn’t want to meet her. He is not ready. She will be together with Namjoon in the meeting. A sight he never wants to see. “Just act like you don’t know anything! I am hanging up!” Taehyung hangs up before Jimin replies back. He then turns his phone off and puts it again inside his pocket.

Yes, he thinks that it is not professional for him to avoid Namjoon and the girl. He doesn’t hate them, Hell no. Namjoon is one of his best friends and so does she. But he still needs a moment to mourn, to finally moving on. He sighs and walks again. His stomach grumbles. He hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday. He doesn’t even believe it himself. He thinks that only women will have anorexic as a breakup phase. But it seems, losing appetite applied for every human being who is brokenhearted.

His feet stop in front of a small bakery. It has a blue color outside and yellow inside, a rare combination since some people think that blue is not an appetizing color. He decides to buy some bread and eat it in the park, he is not in the mood of any rice right now. He just needs something to fill his empty stomach. The bell in the door rings as he opens it.

He is welcomed by delicious smells of freshly-baked bread. He takes a tray and walks around. Somehow the smells make his stomach growls even louder. After many considerations, he chooses a bread with red bean paste and butter and also an egg sandwich. He also takes a coke from the chiller and walks to the cashier.

He puts the tray in the cashier and his eyes wandering around the small bakery. The bakery itself is cozy, with some corners full of cute photo spots. There is only some seating area in front of the cashier. Taehyung is nodding at the rhythm of the music when his eyes dart at a little placard with a hand-written scribble beside the cashier.

Girls get 50% off

Taehyung frowns his brows and asks. “Why do only girls get 50% off?”

You raise your head. “Because all men are trash.” You reply dryly.

Taehyung gawks with that sudden explanation. “I’m sorry, what?”

Just before you say anything to the random guy, someone hit your head. “What the fuck, Hani? Why did you hit me?” you touch your head and look at another girl, Hani, who holds a rolling pin in her hand.

Hani then grabs the placard and tears it into pieces. “How many times did I tell you not to use this stupid ‘girl only’? You want us to go bankrupt?” She then throws it into the trash can. Hani turns to the man in the suit in front of them. “I am really sorry sir.”

“Why? I said the truth!” you shrug. Hani then glares at you, which shuts you up. “Fine. You handle this then.” you then walk to the back, to the kitchen, while Hani handles the cashier.

Taehyung is flabbergasted. His eyes following your back. What a weird girl. “So, how much?”

Hani then smiles, “2700 won. Would you want to pay with cash or card?” Taehyung gives her an exact amount. “Oh, this is a free cookie for you. It’s a new recipe.”

Taehyung takes the paper bag and nods politely. “Thank you.”

“Thank you! Please come again!” She yells to the girl as Taehyung walks out of the door. He can hear how the weird girl is being yelled at. Somehow he finds it amusing and funny, not at all weird.

He walks to the nearby park and sits on the bench. He puts the paper bag beside him. He looks at the bag. Palate Cleanser. A weird name for a bakery. It should be used for an ice cream parlor or that kind of stuff, but instead, they use it in a goddamn bakery. Well, not only the people working there are weirdos, the bakery itself is weird too.

He chuckles. Taehyung loves unusual stuff. He was once scolded by the higher-ups when he showed up in the Company in a pajama set and the other time in a suit with some doodles on the back. It is just his fashion sense, and everybody in the Company just looked at him like he was crazy. Why can't he be the unique one? It’s not that he bothers anyone with his habit nor his fashion sense. He opens the sandwich first and bites it. Not bad. Maybe he will come to that weird bakery again.

“What the fuck, Y/n? You almost scared him away!” Hani yells at you. She puts her hand on her hips. It may be the fifth time she yelled at you about this, this week.

You shrug. “So what? That is my intention anyway.” You open the kitchen cabinet and pull out a sack of flour, chocolates, caramel, and a bottle of peanut butter.

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “He just wanted to buy some bread for god sakes. Not making a move at you!”

You look away and walk to the kitchen island to make another batch of cookies. “Men still are trash.” You said as you rolled your sleeves.

Hani just shakes her head. “Not all men are trash.”

“They are!” you yell. “You lucky you found a good one.”

“Enough with the stubbornness!” She sighs. “Fine then, just think like that. But don’t you ever put that placard again! People would think that this bakery is a lesbian crib, you fucker.” Hani stomps her foot to the front, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You sigh. I hope I am a lesbian, maybe It’s just better that way. You begin to measure the cookie ingredients. Your mind wanders freely as your hands work. You have done this for almost 5 years now, and you can measure a basic cookie dough subconsciously.

It’s because of Youngjae.

It was maybe the lowest point in your life. You found Youngjae naked in the bed with your college friend who you thought was your best friend. But frankly, she was just a bitch. Youngjae was your boyfriend for 3 years, you dated him in the last year of high school. He was kind, handsome, and smart, basically a grade-A boyfriend. You thought you were blessed for having a nice boyfriend. You gave all of you to him. But apparently, he cheated you all the time in your relationship. For 3 fucking years.

You are glad that you have a nice family and friends to help you through it. You cried, starved yourself, and did not take a bath for weeks in your break up. Hani is one of your friends that supports you in that hard time. Instead of just depressed and sad, she helped you move on. She was the one who printed huge ass banners that said ‘Youngjae got herpes’ with his photo and stuck it on every surface in your college. It probably cost you some dates but you were happy and satisfied. You were relieved that you got out of that unhealthy relationship. But still, you despise all of the men in this world.

You studied hard after that, took patisserie classes, not bothered by guys and dating. You get on your feet and finally, you open a bakery in the middle of the city with your best friend. It is like a successful revenge. Even that jerk ruined your life, you still have your best friend and a great job that you have always dreamt of.

You always love baking since you are just a little kid. You love the moment when you wait in front of the oven. You love to see how all the raw ingredients turn into an edible one. And you love to give your food to people, you love seeing their reaction. There was even a time when you made bread with a miso paste fillings. It was a horrible combination that made Hani and your family throw up. But you love trying new things, or just watching them trying your disgusting food.

You put the cookies in the oven. This time you made a batch of sumbitches, cookies filled with peanut butter, chocolate, and caramel. It is your bakery’s special and most favorite one because your customers are mostly girls. Who says that the girls need love? Well, who needs love if you can eat chewy, sweet, salty, and crunchy fresh baked cookies while watching Netflix?

Taehyung decides to go back to the Company after his lunch. He is racking his brain to avoid the other guys. He looks at his watch. The meeting should be over in an hour. He better moves faster. He speed-walks to his cubicle, nodding at everyone in his way. It is not that he has a job to do. He hasn’t got a new mission yet, so he basically can slack around. He sits on his chair. It’s been a while since he moved back to this city. He always chose to be located in other countries as an asset. He loves to interact with new people and to be in a new environment, not stuck in this tiny cubicle in a suit. But after that Hawaii Mission, the boss orders him to return to the head office, and well, he can’t refuse. Even Yoongi, who was an asset in Hawaii, ordered his return too.

He moves his chair around. He is bored. Maybe he is going to ask Jungkook to play with him. Oh but Jungkook is at the meeting. He sighs as he props his hand under his chin.

“Tae! Where have you been?” It’s the voice he wants to avoid the most. She walks to his cubicle with her bag on her shoulder. He can see the scar on her cheek is not as red as before, since it was from two weeks ago. “You are lucky, the Boss didn’t ask for you!”

He smiles sheepishly. “Ah, right. I kinda forget. So how is the meeting?”

She looks at him suspiciously and puts her arms across her chest. “Yoongi found that Ji Seok had contacted some people before he came to Hawaii. So, we need to investigate them. They sound suspicious from what Yoongi told us before. We thought that they might be the newest members of the Black.”

He tilts his head. “I’m sorry. We?” He is fine with another job to save him from boredom, but to work with her again? It’s just uncomfortable.

She laughs, “Oh, I am sorry. I mean you, Yoongi, Jin, Jimin, and Hoseok. Everyone except me and Namjoon. Can you believe that?”

Taehyung raises one of his eyebrows. At some point, he feels relief that he won’t work with her. “What? Why?”

“Namjoon is getting his ‘punishment’ and sent away to teach the recruits and as for me, I have finally decided to go on therapy.” She smiles proudly.

His jaw drops, “Oh my God! I am so glad you decided to do that!” He stands and hugs her tightly. “What makes you change your mind?”

She returns the hug. “Well, Namjoon kinda talked me into it. I was afraid I would get fired, at first. But he told me that if I get fired, he will leave too.” She laughs. “And after that, I gathered all of my courage to tell our Boss. Fortunately, he doesn’t fire me and encourages me to go to therapy. They told me to think about myself first.”

He gulps and gives a faint smile. “I am so happy for you.”

She then releases his hug. “I want to talk to you more, but I must go to my first session. Talk to you soon, okay?” she then waves and walks to the tall man standing beside the door. The tall man smiles and then puts his arms behind her back and walks with her happily. She never smiles like that before and if Namjoon is the only one who can make her happy, he will gladly let her go. Even if his heart aches whenever he sees her with Namjoon, he will be happy for her. He tries to be happy for her.

He needs to move on. He must let her go.

He drowns in his thoughts, not realizing Jimin walks to him. “Hey, bro. How are you?” Jimin has always been his best friend. They both went to college together and finally decided to work in the same place, Taehyung works in the field area, whereas Jimin works as a handler. Her handler. And Jimin was the one who introduced her to Taehyung.

Taehyung sighs. “So-so.”

Jimin pats his shoulder. “I know. You are doing good, by the way. I am so proud of you.” Jimin always knows about Taehyung’s love for her. It’s not that he is not supporting it, but Jimin has always known that the girl loves Namjoon, since a long time ago. Basically, he is stuck in between helping Taehyung, his best friend, or helping the girl. But love is not that simple, and can’t be controlled with a mere human being like him. It just goes with the flow like a log in the river. And unlucky for Taehyung, the log flows to another stream. “Just tell me if you want to hit the strip club okay? Hoseok is waiting for it too.”

“Haha. Yeah right.” Taehyung shrugs. “Maybe next couple of years.”

“Dude. Why are you so pessimistic about it? You are going to move on soon.”

Taehyung glares at him. “I have loved her for 3 years, okay? It’s not that simple to unlove someone you love.”

Jimin sighs. “You know what? I think you need a palate cleanser.”

Taehyung knits his brows. “What? Why do I need that bakery?”

“What bakery?” He asks back. “No, what I mean is you need some sex to help you get over her! And then you can get ready for a new one.”

“So, you suggest that I should hook up with a prostitute?” He crosses his arms across his chest, finding Jimin’s suggestion to be amusing. Amusing as Jimin who is a hopeless romantic and has been in love with his childhood friend since he was a kid suddenly told him to get a one night stand.

“Eww. No! Just look for a girl, you stupid. Hang out more.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Shouldn’t it be easier to find a prostitute?”

Jimin’s nose scrunches in disgust. “If you say a prostitute again, I won’t ever talk to you.” He then drops a binder on Taehyung’s desk. “Anyway, this is the data for our mission. Jin said that we would have a meeting tomorrow, so you should study it. Oh, did I mention that I am joining the fieldwork too? Finally, I don’t need to stay in front of my computer. I am so thrilled!”

“Wow, congrats bro.” Taehyung pats his shoulder and takes the binder and opens it. “But you should practice your gun skill more then.”

“Right! I think I will practice after this. Alright then, if you need other data just tell me, okay? I’ll see you soon.” Jimin then walks away.

Taehyung drifts his attention to the binder. It looks like there are 3 suspects. They have been contacted by Ji Seok for at least ten times in the last 3 months before Ji Seok is caught. The First suspect is Byun Baekhyun, he went to the same college with Ji Seok, now working in a restaurant in the city. The contacts all happened in his restaurant, with no telephone trace. The second suspect is Park Chanyeol, he lived in the same neighborhood with Ji Seok. He now works as a journalist in a food magazine, last seen with Ji Seok at a work party. The last suspect is Jung Eunji, she has no connection with Ji Seok, but her credit card was used to buy a plane ticket to Hawaii.

His forehead furrows. There is still not enough data to capture them, which means they needed to go to the field to investigate. Another troublesome mission. But at least, he won’t be stuck in front of his computer.

It is the morning. You wake up lazily. You are not a morning person. Even though you have a job which requires you to go to work at 6 am for years, you still go to bed after midnight. You always have other activities that make you busy, either you watch movies or read books. Well, not books. You have been using Tumblr for almost 10 years now. That application has occupied your browser history for almost 10 years, and that is the only reason why people never get to see your phone, there are too many links to your favorite smut authors. There is no way people can see that. Basically it’s just like porn, but you always think that it is more than that. Smut is just full of artistic things too. You love how the author writes such a poetic description of humping with emotional touches which make you cry until 2 in the morning. Well, you did other stuff too besides crying. Let’s just say that not only your face is wet.

You take a quick shower before you go to work. You wrap your body in a towel and pick your clothes for today in the closet. You never go to work in classy clothes, usually, you just wear a t-shirt and jeans, you have to change into your kitchen clothes later after all. You wear your black t-shirt and your ripped jeans quickly, then after tying your hair into a messy bun, you grab your jacket and your purse on the couch. You should go now if you don’t want to be late, or getting scolded by Hani. You shudder in reflex.

It is still chilly in the morning. You keep thinking to yourself, why you hate morning so much when you love the morning weather and how empty the road is, like you own it. You yawn. Well, you hate the wake-up part in the morning. You hate to leave the comfort and the warmth of your blanket.

The walk from your apartment to your bakery is not that long. You are lucky to find such an affordable apartment in the middle of the city. It is small, but it is still livable and pretty. It is close to many things, like the market, train station, and even your bakery. It is a pity you don’t live with Hani. You were going to be Hani’s roommate when you first moved to the city, but now she lives with his boyfriend, Jackson. That’s why, when you first saw the ad of your apartment, you called it without any further thinking.

You arrive at the bakery as you sigh in relief for not seeing Hani’s head inside. Lucky to you, she won’t scold you for this morning. You unlock the door and go straight to your locker room to change your clothes. You then skillfully sweep, mop, and wash all the dishes. And after an hour, you begin to prepare your today’s bread. It’s just your usual menu in your bakery. While you are preparing the dough, your mind wanders, where the hell is Hani?

It’s almost 9 am, and you still can’t find Hani anywhere. You wanted to call her, but as clumsy as you are, you left your phone in your apartment. So you just hope that Hani is fine but her ass will not because you are gonna kick her ass for letting you prepare the bread alone. You sigh as you walk to the front door to turn the sign to ‘Open’.

It has always been a hectic morning for two people to make, display the bread, and handle the customers. And now you are the only one here. It is basically like a war. You still feel lucky, to have people loving your bread. But after 2 hours of working alone, you are admitting defeat. You change the sign on the door to ‘Still baking’ and run to the kitchen to bake some more. It is the only thing you could think of right now. All the bread this morning has already sold out, after all. You are never a multi-tasking girl. So it seems fair for you to work in this type of situation or you will go insane.

Your next batch of bread is already in the oven, and you finally can take a breather. You look at your clock on the wall, it’s almost noon, and Hani is still nowhere to be seen. You begin to worry, but it’s not like you can leave the bakery alone. Then the bell on the door rings. You almost run to the front to yell at Hani for coming so late, but instead Hani, it is a guy.

It’s a guy from yesterday.

He wears a different suit from yesterday, now he is wearing a navy one. His curly hair falls on his forehead smoothly, framing his frowning brows. “Are you close or something?” he asks after he observes your display area.

“My friend is a little late, so I work alone right now.” You give a half-smile, a business one. “If you do mind, you can come back for an hour for the bread. Can’t you see the sign on the door?”

He turns his sculpted face to the door, “Oh, right. Sorry.” He then walks to the seating area, “Can I wait here?”

You bite your lip. But before you say anything to him to forbid him, your alarm in the kitchen rings. You snarl and walk back to the kitchen. “Your call.” You begin to pick your bread and put it to the cooling rack. You then put the already cool one to the plastic back to put it on the display later. Your eyes leer to the guy sitting casually in the seating area in front of the cashier. The presence of a man close to you is kind of uncomfortable.

Taehyung looks at you from the kitchen window. It is a big glass window to show what’s going on inside the kitchen. And that noon, the window lives to its purpose, he can see what you are doing inside. He can see how uncomfortable you are. How you fidget every time you have nothing on your hand. How your eyes sometimes leer at him. It is his ability to know body language, he is an agent, after all. He knows that you are nervous.

Since you told him that all men are trash yesterday, he still thinks of you as a weird girl. Somehow he is drawn to you. At first, he thought it was just a joke or a prank, but seeing how awkward you are when you see him, he realizes that you do hate men. And he thinks it’s really adorable.

You then go out from the kitchen with a pan of freshly baked bread and walk to the display. You put them neatly, quietly, trying not to mind him, while mentally praying for Hani to come sooner.

“Wow, you really do hate men, don’t you?” He asks abruptly.

His deep voice startled you. Your empty pan falls to the ground as the impact, making a loud noise in the room. You then give him a dirty look. “Pardon?”

He walks to the display area, casually observing the bread. He then takes a piece of bread. “I thought it just a joke when you said all men are trash.” He walks back to his chair, opens the plastic, and bite the bread.

You raise one of your eyebrows. “So?” You ask without batting an eye.

“Nothing. Just find it amusing.”

You walk to the chair in front of him and pull it. You sit there facing him. “You have a problem with that?”

“No.” Taehyung throws his last bite to his mouth and chews it quickly. He inches forward to your face. “Let me guess. Hm.. You got dumped, didn’t you?”

You widen your eyes. “No, I didn’t! I was the one who dumped him!” You put your hand on your mouth. What the hell are you doing telling strangers that?

He hums and folds his arms across his chest. “Okay, let me try again.” He studies you for a bit. “Your boyfriend cheated on you with your friend?”

Your jaw drops and you can feel a flush crept on your face. “How do you know?” You ask in a shock.

He smirks and shrugs confidently. “I am just that good you know.” He chuckles. “Actually no, I just guessed it.”

Just when you wanted to reply to him, the door opened harshly. And there you find your best friend rushing towards you. “Oh my God, Y/N! I am sorry.”

You observe her from the top to her feet, well, she seems fine. That’s the important thing. You sigh. “Where have you been?”

“Jackson got sick so I took him to the hospital. I have been calling you for a hundred times, where is your phone?” Hani asks. You can see her face is bare, she didn’t even draw her eyebrows.

“I left it at home. Is Jackson okay?”

Hani takes off his jacket and rolls her sleeves. “Yeah, just a little infection, he will be fine.” She looks around the bakery. “I can’t believe you open this yourself, I feel terrible.”

You wave your hands. “It’s okay. But I think we should hire a part-timer. It has been a hell for me.”

She rubs her chin. “Yes, I think it is time for us to have a helper.” Hani then looks to the side to find a man there. “I am sorry. Am I interrupting something?” She smiles.

Taehyung smiles back and laughs. “Not really. We just discussed about her hatred of men. I got free bread for guessing the reason right!”

“It’s not free-“

You are interrupted by Hani’s laughter. “It is ridiculous, right? I talked to her all the time that not all men are like that.” Her voice then quieten. “I even told her to find a palate cleanser, you know. And, this is a lil bit TMI. But actually, it’s the reason why we use that name for our bakery.”

Palate cleanser. Taehyung then remembers what Jimin said to him yesterday. And an idea comes to his head.

You push Hani’s back to the locker room. “Alright, alright. Just go change already.” She follows your instruction as she waves to Taehyung.

Taehyung looks at his watch and then gathers his stuff and rises from his chair. He walks towards you and he holds out his hand to you. “I am Taehyung.”

You take his hand after many considerations. “Y/N.”

Taehyung smiles. He then takes his wallet out from his pocket and pulls out a card. A black name card. “This is my number. If you are interested in the palate cleanser thing,” he then forcefully puts the name card on your hand, “please give me a call.” He winks and Taehyung walks away to the door, leaving you speechless on the spot.

You are stunned, seeing the card on your hand. After a few seconds, you realize. You ran outside to catch him. “Hey, you haven’t paid!” but Taehyung has vanished in the crowded road.

“Finally!” Jimin yells. All of the 5 members gather in the meeting room, with Jin in the middle. It’s already 15 minutes past the meeting time. Taehyung walks faster and sits beside his friend.

Jin sighs, “I swear to God, if you are late one more time, I will kick your ass in the practice room.” He shifts his eye to Jungkook beside him. “Actually, I will ask Jungkook to do it.”

Taehyung being such a brat, like he always does, shrugs. “Fine. I am sorry. Please continue the meeting.”

Jin pouts and rolls his eyes. “What I am saying is, we need to gather as many pieces of information from the 3 suspects and they should know nothing. The Black is still an influential organization. We must be careful not to attract any attention.”

Hoseok raises his hand. “But actually, haven’t we attracted the attention already by capturing the leader in Hawaii?”

“That’s true. But most of the new members seem to be a rookie in this field, they haven’t been that loyal to him. For short, they are terrified. They will do whatever they take to throw all of the evidence that shows they’re in the organization right away. That’s why it’s our chance to dig a little deeper.” Jin continues.

“So what is the plan?” Jungkook asks.

Yoongi rises from his seat and connects his laptop. He then shows all of the suspect’s profiles. “Jin and I already talked to our boss. We think that we should divide ourselves into groups to tail them.”

“So, Jimin and Yoongi will investigate Jung Eunji. Taehyung and Hoseok will investigate Park Chanyeol, and the last, Jungkook and I will investigate Byun Baekhyun.” Jin folds his hands across his chest. “You will be needed to submit your report every single day at 00.00. Just tailing, no harsh approaches. If they suspect something, you will retreat and report to me. We don’t need another attraction. Are we clear?”

All of the members nod and rise from their seats as Jin dismisses them. Taehyung walks to Hoseok. “So do we get a stake-out van?”

It is almost midnight but you still can’t fall asleep. You move your body anxiously on the bed, trying to get comfortable. Finally, you surrender. You pick your phone, scrolling on Tumblr. It is a bad idea actually. You always think that reading some stories will make you go to sleep, but instead, you feel excited and end up reading fifteen chapters of 10k stories. But tonight, you can’t find other stories to read.

You sigh. Your mind begins to wander. And suddenly Taehyung pops out in your mind. A palate cleanser, huh? It is tempting actually. He looks nice. Well, nice doesn’t do justice to him. You have never found a guy as handsome as him. It really makes nonsense to you. His beauty is beyond words. And to have such a guy to offer you such service, you must be dreaming.

Or, is he a prostitute? That’s why he looks so ethereal!

You turn your headlamp on and walk to your purse, where you kept his name card. You look at it carefully on both sides. It is just a simple card, with simple ‘Kim Taehyung’ written in gold in the center, with his email and phone number under it and ‘The Company’ on the other side of the card. It seems too sophisticated for a prostitute’s agency, well, not that you ever got it though. Or is he like an exclusive prostitute?

Should I just text him? You sit on your couch. You input his number on your phone and hit the message button. What should I send? You tap your phone on your chin. You have never texted a guy since college. It is lame actually. Whenever you got a guy’s number, you always ignore it. But now, you just got the feeling that you can ignore Taehyung.

You walk to your pantry, pouring a glass of wine, and bring the bottle to the couch. You begin to type.

To Taehyung: Hey...

You knit your eyebrows, what are you? A high schooler? You can do better than this. You delete and begin typing again. You gulp the wine in one shot and pour another glass.

To Taehyung: Dear, Kim Taehyung. I was happy to receive your number and I hope to see you again.

Are you his business partner? Damn, woman. Just type casually. You drink your wine again. Typing and deleting, and drinking. For several hours. Until you fell asleep on the couch with the phone on your hand.

And just like the safety slogan on the road, ‘Don’t Drink and Drive’. You need a new one.

‘Don’t drink and type’

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alwaysfeelingsaintlike · 3 years

Text

About Time [G.W] - Part 1

pairing: George Weasley x OC

series description: On an unexpected night out, George meets the love of his life. And then suddenly loses her. What lengths will he go to in order to find her?

word count: 2.7k

taglist: @p0gues4l @amourtentiaa (let me know if you want to be added!)

series masterlist

“Fred, why are we doing this? It’s utterly ridiculous.”

“Oh come on now, it’s an experience!”

“I’d hardly consider eating in the dark an experience,” George scoffed. He was flabbergasted when Fred signed them up for this “blind” dating experience. Fred never had trouble meeting women at the bar, but he kept saying he needed a change of pace.

“You never know what tonight might lead to Georgie. Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate,” Fred said as he raised his eyebrows. They walked into the chic restaurant where the lobby was dimly lit. As they checked in, the host explained that all the waiters in the restaurant were blind. All part of the “experience.” One of the waiters requested they grab onto his shoulder and a few moments later they were escorted down the stairs and behind a black curtain into complete darkness. As they walked back, the waiter explained that the idea behind the dining experience is that the total darkness enhances the other senses, creating a truly unique dining experience. As they got to table, he added that the darkness cultivates an environment to truly connect with people.

“I hate this already,” George said.

“Shh…” Fred said, as he kicked George under the table.. It was then George noticed there was movement next to them. Their dates had arrived.

“Hello ladies. I’m Fred and this here’s George.” Fred greeted.

“Oh well hello,” a voice said, “I’m Angelina.”

“Hi, I’m Molly,” said the person sitting next to George. She had a soft and earnest voice with an American accent.

“Nice to meet you, Molly’s my mother’s name actually,” George responded.

“Oh…does it…suit her?” she asked.

“I reckon it does. Although, she’s a bit sturdy so Bernard might have been a better fit.”

She laughed lightly and said, “Okay.” After a momentary pause she asked, “So have you ever been here before?”

“I haven’t.”

“Me neither. To be honest, I’m not completely sold on this concept yet. I genuinely like to be able to see my food and the people I’m eating with.”

“Exactly. Fred had twist my arm to even get me here.”

“Glad that we’re in the same boat. Not that I’m not excited to meet you or anything…” she added. “Oh, something just touched my elbow,” she whispered.

“That wasn’t me,” George quickly said.

“Well that just makes it worse! If it wasn’t you, who was it?”

“It wasn’t me…because I’m touching something else,” Fred stated.

“Yes, and you’ll stop that right away, thank you,” Angelina responded.

A waiter approached and began filling the empty glasses. George found the glass in front of him and took a big swing before realizing that the glasses had been filled with wine and he choked slightly.

“You okay there?” Molly asked him.

“That is not water,” he said. She giggled as she took a more reasonable sip from her wine glass.

“You might be onto something there. Maybe we should just get drunk,” She whispered.

George smiled and said, “Cheers to that.” He held up his glass and within seconds he felt her glass lightly tap his, which was impressive considering the complete darkness.

“So, girls, be honest. Who is more beautiful?” Fred asked. George knew he was joking, but he was partially concerned the girls wouldn’t pick up on his subtleties.

“Oh, I am,” Angelina said.

“She is,” Molly added.

“Excellent!” Fred beamed. George tried not to roll his eyes and luckily Molly interrupted his thoughts.

“So George, what do you do for a living?” she asked.

“My brother and I own a joke shop in Diagon Alley. Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.”

“Oh no way! I walk past that shop everyday. And what made you start that?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life. At school we were always coming up with inventions for pranks and we quickly realized that we could make money doing what we loved.”

“That’s amazing. And I’m assuming you went to Hogwarts?”

“You would be correct. Now what’s your story? Ilvermorny and then how’d you get here?”

“Yes, I was a Thunderbird at Ilvermorny and once I finished school I wanted to do something different, explore a little. So I moved to London and worked some odd jobs for a while and now I’m an editor at the Daily Prophet.”

“Ah, if you’re responsible for fact checking Rita Skeeter, I think you should pursue another career path.”

“Very funny,” she said, taking another sip of wine. “My area is much less controversial. I’m a sports editor.”

George’s ears perked up at that. “What’s your team?” he asked.

“Kenmare. I have family in Ireland so I was born and raised a Kestrals fan. And let me guess, you follow the…Chudley Cannons?” she said, throwing out a blind guess.

George chuckled, “Puddlemere United. Although your instincts are good, my younger brother is obsessed with the Cannons.”

“Puddlemere…that’s respectable. They’re having a good year. Been to any matches yet?”

“I’ve been meaning to, but haven’t gotten to it this season. Too busy with the shop.”

“You should go if you get the chance. They are unbelievable to watch. The Chasers are just so in sync, it’s mesmerizing.”

“Did you play at all?” he asked.

“I was a Keeper. I miss being out on the pitch. Just something about the buzz that was in the air and having your whole house out there cheering for you. No better feeling.”

George smiled, thinking about the days he spent playing Quidditch for Gryffindor. She perfectly described what it was like to play and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed the crowd calling his name whenever he took out an opponent with a bludger.

“Fred and I were Beaters. It seems like those were the best years of my life.”

“Oh don’t tell me you peaked in school. Just when I thought I had met someone interesting.”

George thought carefully about his response. “I’m happy with my life, but we’re adults now. There was something about being younger, having your whole life ahead of you and not having to worry about paying bills and making a living. I miss the simpler times.”

“I can understand that. I do miss sneaking fire whiskey into the dorms. It’s not as fun when you can just go and buy it.” He smiled at her statement, remembering his own teenage shenanigans.

“You would’ve had fun with us at Hogwarts.”

“You don’t strike me as a troublemaker, George,” she said.

He chuckled and replied, “That’s because I’m on my best behavior tonight.”

“Well that’s no fun,” Molly flirted.

Suddenly, George felt himself get nervous. He hadn’t been on a proper date in a while and he wasn’t sure how to act or what to say. He felt tense instead of his usual carefree self. He realized that he might actually like this girl.

“So…what kind of music do you like?” she asked.

“I mostly listen to rock. Recently it’s been a lot of the Weird Sisters.”

“Oh I love the Weird Sisters!” she exclaimed. “I see them every time they come to London.”

“They’re great live. They played at one of our balls in school and it was incredible.”

“That sounds amazing,” she beamed. There was movement near them as the waiter placed what George assumed was the main course in front of them.

“Looks great,” he said. Molly laughed a genuine laugh as opposed to a polite chuckle and George felt butterflies at the sound of it. He never thought he could be so attracted to a voice. Something about her seemed special. The four of them ate and sounds of silverware filled the air as they did.

“I’m still not completely sold on this experience, but I will say this meal has been delicious,” she spoke. George was racking his brain for a response that might induce some conversation when Molly added, “The company hasn’t been too bad either.”

Before he could respond, Angelina said, “I’m going to run to the loo. Mol, will you join me?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, putting down her silverware. George was grateful for a few minutes to drum up some conversation topics as their dates vacated the table.

“How’s it going?” Fred asked him.

“Good…she seems great. I’m just rubbish at dates.”

“Well don’t sweat it. I’m going to invite Angelina back to our place after this. Maybe Molly will come too.”

“Is it really going that well over there?”

“I mean I’m not gonna marry the girl, but we’re getting along well enough.”

“Does it bother you that you don’t know what she looks like?” George asked.

“Sure, but I’ve never been one to shy away from risk.” George shook his head. Fred and George were on completely different wavelengths when it came to women. Fred was never concerned with commitment and was always living in the moment. But George was the opposite. He didn’t want to waste time on someone if it wasn’t going to turn into something meaningful.

Molly and Angelina returned to the table just as the dessert course was placed in front of them.

“I need to know…is the washroom pitch black as well?” he asked.

Molly giggled and said, “Now that would’ve solidified my opinion of this restaurant concept.”

They ate in silence for a moment when Molly asked, “So what’s your family like?”

“Big. I have five brothers and a sister.”

“Wow, and where do you fall in that mix?”

“In the middle. Fred and I are twins and then there are three brothers older than us and a younger brother and sister.”

“I’m sure you had fun growing up with such a big family.”

“I don’t think I always appreciated it when I was growing up, but now I love having such a big family.”

“That’s awesome.”

“And what about you?”

“I have two younger sisters. We grew up pretty close so it is tough to be so far from them.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”

“Since the holidays. I always come home for Christmas and usually my family will come out for a visit at some point in the spring or summer.”

“Do you ever think about moving back home?”

She paused for a moment, “No, I don’t think so. It seems like this is where I’m meant to be.”

George had finished off the glass of wine in front of him and he realized the waiter had cleared all the plates and their visionless meal was ending. He took a deep breath, wondering where this night would take them. He just wanted to see her. He wanted to look into her eyes and confirm there was a true connection between them. They all stood up from the table and Molly and George walked out as a pair toward the lobby, with Fred and Angelina in their wake.

It was quiet as George racked his brain for what to say. He couldn’t recall feeling this nervous around someone he barely knew. As they reached the curtain, he stopped her in an attempt to express his feelings. He didn’t want her thinking he was just interested in her based on her looks.

“Molly, I…erm…I just wanted to-“

“Oh George it’s okay, you don’t have to do this. I can tell when someone’s not interested in me. But thank you for making this dinner bearable.”

Before he could protest, Angelina came whizzing by in a huff. “Come on Molly,” she said grabbing Molly’s arm and leading her through the curtain. George just stood there frozen when he noticed Fred by his side.

“Well, read that one wrong,” he said.

“What the hell happened?” George asked.

“I may have whispered some sexually suggestive things to her that she did not take very well. How’d things go with you?”

“I dunno. I thought it was going well, but I may not have made a good impression.”

“Do you like her?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Then go get her!” George followed his advice and slid through the curtain, excited to see Molly for the first time.

But she wasn’t there. George walked through the front door, hoping she might be outside, but the street was empty. He hung his head and kicked himself for the way he let things transpire.

“She’s gone,” George said as Fred walked through the door.

“Ah rotten luck mate. Sorry to hear it. Shall we go for a pint?”

“I think I’ll just head home,” he said. Fred nodded and they walked down the street a bit before apparating back home.

George couldn’t sleep that night. He kept thinking that he had missed out on something special. He replayed every minute of that night in his head, thinking about how he should’ve been more engaged in the conversation and flirted with her more. George certainly knew how to flirt and he could not figure out why he froze up with Molly.

Eventually he got up and moved to the kitchen to pour a fire whiskey. He needed something to take the edge off and numb the feeling of regret. He tried to forget about this girl but the more he did, the more he convinced himself that if he just saw her, he would know. And it wasn’t just about physical attraction, although that was certainly a part of it. He just needed to see her. The mystery was driving him crazy.

After his second glass of fire whiskey, he started to think about how he could make his hope a reality. He considered visiting the Daily Prophet and trying to find her there, but that didn’t quite feel right. He could write a letter and suggest that they meet up, but the suspense of waiting on a response would kill him. Then it suddenly hit him.

He ran into the room and started fumbling through a junk drawer, looking for one thing in particular. He started throwing aside Extendable Ears and miscellaneous Skiving Snackboxes before he finally found it. All the rummaging seemed to have woken Fred because a moment later his voice came from the doorway.

“What are you doing?” he looked half asleep, but still concerned.

“I couldn’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about Molly. I just need to see her.”

“Well it seems a bit late for that now, eh?”

“No, it’s not,” George said holding up the thin gold chain that held a spinning hourglass on the end.

“Mate, that’s a terrible idea. Time isn’t to be meddled with.”

He put the time turner around his neck. “I can do this. I won’t interact with anyone. I’ll just stand outside and have a smoke while she walks out. No conversation, no nothing.”

Fred let out a deep sigh, knowing this was a losing battle. “Just don’t be stupid. And don’t get caught.” With that, he spun the time turner four times and closed his eyes. He immediately disapparated to the restaurant and hid in the alley way across the street. It was only a few moments until Angelina and Molly would leave the restaurant. George considered his options and thought it was best to stay hidden, he didn’t want to have an awkward run in with his past self.

He waited for what seemed like an eternity (but was probably only a few minutes) when the front door opened. A dark skinned woman with long braids was leading the charge, pulling the arm of another woman. She had fair skin, covered in freckles and deep brown hair that hit just below her shoulders. She was petite, probably around 5’3” and very slender. But the most striking thing about her was her smile. He heard their voices and immediately recognized the American accent that belonged to the freckled woman. Angelina was explaining what had just happened and Molly stood there, reacting with a new facial expression after every sentence. And then she laughed and George felt his heart stop. She was the one. It seemed crazy for him to think that considering he had just met her, but he knew. He watched the two of them walk down the cobblestone street as he tried to commit every detail of Molly to memory. Next came the tricky part, finding her.

#george weasley fanfic #george weasley x oc #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #weasley twins fanfic

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in-slytherin-we-trust · 4 years

Note

could you do a cedric one shot where cedric and y/n are going together but no one know that and the boys want to go with her and the girls want to go with him? thanks!! love your writing by the way :)

Element of Surprise (Cedric Diggory x Reader)

“Hey, Y/N?” Seamus Finnigan, her seatmate in Transfiguration said from beside her in hushed tones. Trying hard to make this exchange go undetected from Professor McGonagall’s keen eyes.

Even Y/N looks warily between him and the professor who’s currently walking between the aisle. They’re supposed to be working on writing a short essay about switching. The art of magically exchanging physical features between two targets.

“Can this wait? i’m really not in the mood for detention.” She answered, equally soft that her mouth barely moved.

“This’ll only take a second, promise. Would you like to be my date for the ball?” He asked her, but his eyes stayed watching McGonagall.

Y/N cringed at the prospect of letting him down, despite his tendency to be loud and brash, but Seamus is a good guy. She even considered him as a friend, sort of.

“I am really sorry, Seams. But i’ve already got myself a date.” Y/N answered, her face scrunching with guilt.

“Oh.. I see,” Y/N doesn’t miss the spark in his eyes dimming. Bloody hell this is tougher than she imagined. “That’s alright, it’s worth a shot.” He said, giving her a tight lipped smile.

“Mr. Finnigan, stop whispering and focus on your work instead, i’m growing tired of sending you to detention so do the both of us a favor, dear.” Professor McGonagall barked out.

That successfully shut the both of them up.

———————————————————————

Marcus Belby. Ravenclaw. A year above them. He is the nephew of Damocles Belby, a celebrated Order of Merlin-awarded potioneer who in the last quarter of the 20th century, developed the Wolfsbane Potion, a potion that was able to relieve the effects of lycanthropy.

To be frank, Y/N wasn’t even sure of how he knew her. They’re not in the same house, not in the same year, and with no mutual friends. Thus why when he approached her that afternoon in the hallway, startled would be an understatement.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), right? I’m Marcus Belby.” He said as he offered his hand for her to shake.

Y/N, still pretty much flabbergasted, slowly extended her own hand to meet his. “I.. um yeah, I know who you are.” She awkwardly replied, stumbling all over her words.

“You see i’ve heard of your finesse in the art of potion making and i’m quite impressed that I just had to introduce myself,” Marcus said, bridging the conversation. “I think you and I, we’re alike. As you may know, potion making is a family business, let’s call it that.”

“Oh um wow,” There she goes again, embarrassing herself to no ends. “I’m flattered truly, thank you, that’s a really high praise.”

“I was thinking would you maybe like to go with me to the Yule Ball? I would love to get to know you better.” Marcus asked, but nonetheless his face remained flat, not a trace of emotion as if he’s merely doing a social experiment on her.

Y/N sighed as she fumbled with her sleeve, “I’m sorry, Marcus. I already said yes to someone.”

Marcus merely raised an eyebrow at her, “I see, should you change your mind later, let me know.” And with that he walked away, disappearing fast around the corner that leads to another hall. Leaving Y/N more confused than ever.

———————————————————————

The next day, after Y/N’s done with breakfast, she founds Zacharias Smith blocking her path out. A confident smile on his face.

“Can I walk with you?” The blond Hufflepuff’s chaser asked. Not even waiting for her reply, he took a place beside her and matched their steps so they’re next to each other.

“Can I help you with something, Zachary?” Y/N asked in a clipped tone. Gods, she can’t stand him.

He is insolent and his cynical attitude sealed his place on the list of Hogwarts’s A-class jerks.

“I just want some company, preferably one with such a lovely face.” He said with a wink.

Y/N rolled her eyes both literally and mentally, “Just cut to the point, I don’t have all day.”

Zacharias raised both of his hands in surrender, “Fine, fine. You’re no fun at all, I was only teasing.”

“So i’m thinking you, me, Yule Ball. What do you say to that?” He continued. Y/N can read him with no problem at all, how he’s soo damn sure that he would get a yes from her. Well too bad for him.

“Sorry, but it’s a hard no. Better luck next time,” Y/N said with a shrug, and she left him standing there gaping like a fish in her wake.

———————————————————————

“I heard that our favorite girl is on high demand lately? any comments on that?” Fred said wiggling his eyebrows at her, mischief shining behind his eyes.

Y/N founds herself rolling her eyes yet again, she should stop doing that really, but she can’t help it can she when everything is ridiculous.

“I swear this Yule Ball frenzy is driving me mad, people have gone bonkers over it, I never thought I’d have to turn down so many people.” Y/N replied exasperatedly, but of course it’s met with laughter from the twins.

“I believe that’s on you, love. All this suspense of who your mystery date is, people have even began to suspect that you’re just making it up to avoid going all together.” George said.

“Why would I even do that?! I really can’t reveal anything or else it’ll ruin the surprise!” Y/N retorted.

The three of them are sitting on the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, enjoying a nice and hefty dinner. That was before Y/N founds herself approached yet again, but this time it’s someone from Durmstrang who’s walking towards them, a purpose in his stride.

He looks different though from the others, he lacks the intimidating vibe and stern features, so unlike Viktor Krum and his cronies.

He sent an apologetic look towards her, “I’m sorry for interrupting your meal, but I was hoping that I could talk to you.” He spoke, his voice deep and raspy, the Bulgarian accent is barely there. In fact his English is really good.

Y/N sent him a smile and nod, “No that’s alright really, anything in particular on your mind?”

“My name’s Ilarion but before all that, I would like to start by saying that I found you very beautiful, miss.” He said, a kind smile gracing his lips.

Y/N blushed, both at the compliment and the man in front of her. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you. It’s a pleasure to meet you Ilarion, i’m Y/N.”

“I hope that you don’t find it creepy, but I kind of know that already,” Ilarion said nervously.

“Oh not at all! If anything i’m flattered.”

“That’s a relief.... I actually want to ask you to be my date for the Yule Ball, pardon me for being forward, I know we don’t really know each other but I simply must ask.”

“Oh....” Y/N’s face fell, not this again. She actually felt really bad that she must decline his request, he seemed like a gentleman. But she has promised another. “Believe me I would love too, but I have to decline since I already have a date, i’m really sorry Ilarion.”

But despite her rejection, Ilarion’s smile remains, “Of course such a lovely girl like you would have been taken already, no need to apologize, Y/N. I hope you have a good night.” He said as he reached for one of her hands and gently kiss her knuckles before returning to his table.

“So are you done breaking hearts or would there be more?” Fred suddenly said after watching it all went down.

Y/N nearly dunked her head into her broth in frustration.

———————————————————————

The door of the Great Hall opened to reveal the winter wonderland behind it. White decorations and ice structures on every corner. A fanfare playing to signal the arrival of the champions.

Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies in the very front, followed by Viktor Krum with Hermione Granger in his arms. And then all of Hogwarts finally saw who is (Y/N) (Y/L/N) mysterious date. It was none other than Cedric Diggory, who is proudly holding her hands, beaming as if he is the sun.

He led her gently towards the dance floor and only has eyes for her the entire time.

———————————————————————

“Ah so it’s him.” Fred said to his twin, the both of them watched as Y/N and Cedric waltzed together, never missing a step.

“I guess none of us won the bet then, since we bet wrong.” George replied as he looked back at Fred.

Both of them just shrugged and they continue to watch Y/N, the belle of the ball. Clad in her flowing gown of turquoise.

#cedric diggory x you #cedric diggory angst #cedric diggory fluff #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fluff #harry potter drabble #harry potter angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut

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trillgutterbug · 3 years

Text

Fic Writer Questions!

tagged by @palamedessextus 😊 thanks friend!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

64! only five more to the magic number ayyyyy and then i’m legally obligated to never post another one.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

289,575 apparently??? which seems way way way higher than i ever would have guessed, wow. who knew!

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

31 on ao3, although that’s lumping, eg, all marvel subfandoms together. but i have a ridiculous amount of wips in all kinds of other fandoms that i haven’t/won’t post, soooo.... more than that! and i don’t want to list them all bc that’d be a long boring read!

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

it serenely disdains to destroy us, a magnus archives fic that, i somewhat vainly note, has been orbiting in the top few top kudosed fics in the tag since i posted it womp womp.

concerning flight, because we all thirsty for thor/loki+gender and i for one support us.

untitled porny snippet (yes that’s actually what it’s called), because same as above. (i see u, kudos-to-comment ratio and i aint mad but.... i see u. all you dirty birds out there shamefully yet silently jerking it. kudos to YOU.)

an experiment in posthumous subsistence, a batman/joker zombie au i wrote fucking TEN YEARS AGO ALMOST. why???? why is this fic so popular?? i’m barely a good writer now and i sure as shit wasn’t one a decade ago! the terrible title alone should disqualify it from being read, but i guess the people want what they want. and what they want is batman and joker handcuffed together, trying to escape the zombie apocalypse ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

all good things, some stucky hydra trash party-adjacent smut regarding piercings. i stand by this one 100%, it deserves every kudo(s?) tbh.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

i do, depending on the comment! i don’t think comments like “loved this!” / “thanks for writing!” are written with the intent to receive a response (or at least, when i write them on other people’s fics, i certainly don’t expect one). they’re like an extra kudo(s?), and i appreciate them a lot, but they’re not really an invitation to Discuss. whereas if someone clearly has put a lot of thought into a comment, or asked a question, or made some observations that i jive with, or just seems like they want to engage, then hell yeah i jump in there. love that shit.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i guess arguably thine own self, which is some hydra husbands abo. laugh all you want, it’s one of my fave of all my fics lmao. probably specifically bc of the unpleasant/open ending.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

probably moderation is a memory! since it, unlike 99% of all my other stuff, isn’t just total smut, and the whole point of writing it was to wallow as deep as possible in the sauce of giddy teenage infatuation, it got the opportunity to have an actual emotional arc (more or less). furthermore i could not possibly bring myself to break johnny lawrence’s tender little heart ever, that would hurt me far more than it would hurt him.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

i only realised while answering this question that apparently.... no i don’t write crossovers! which is not at all a deliberate choice, i guess a compelling enough one just hasn’t occurred to me yet!

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

shockingly no! by some accidental miracle i’ve managed to fly under the radar so far, despite some of the really buckwild stuff i’ve posted. however, considering some of the stuff i’m probably ABOUT to post.... that clean track record might soon come to an end lmao.

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

lmao. uhhhh. almost exclusively, and i guess??? all kinds? this is clearly a question composed by someone who does not write smut.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of, and i wouldn’t really care if i did.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah i think a few....? a number of people have asked anyway and i always say yes, so probably there’s at least one floating around out there somewhere.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have! just once, and we really made it count. it’s called a reptile dysfunction, which should tell you all you need to know.

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

thorki, probably. i always have and always will come back to it, no matter what. it’s got such a ferociously timeless staying power and so much potential variation, i don’t think i could ever get bored of it, regardless of what level of marvel-exhaustion i might feel at a given time, or what tropes, kinks, or stage of literary pretension i’m at. truly the oh tee pee.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

ohhhhh all 836575927 of them, but. there’s this one thorki fic i started almost ten years ago as an experiment with a new-to-me style, which turned out over the intervening years to become my main style, and looking back on that fic, which for many years was a touchstone of writing-to-aspire to for me, it’s actually Not Very Good lol. but i still love the core concept, which is a canon divergence berserker thor au, but not only is it a somewhat inaccessible (admittedly less so since the deadpool movies came out, which was a hilarious pipe dream back when i started writing it) x-force comics crossover, but i wrote myself into a bunch of corners and have yet to dig up the energy to write myself back out of them! i go and reread it every year or so and think “hmm... maybe now...” but tbh it’s just not really good enough to bother! perhaps someday i’ll repurpose the best elements of it into something new.

16) What are your writing strengths?

man, it’s so hard to say. in much the same way that you can spend hours every day staring at yourself in a mirror, yet be utterly incapable of picking yourself out of a lineup, i spend a lot of time eyeballing my writing, but stepping back it seems like a chaotic mass of nonsense with few cohesive throughlines. i’m good at writing smut, i know that much! and in that vein, i think i am good at smut bc i am very good at committing to the bit, as it were. getting into the nitty gritty of experience and sensation (physical or emotional) and rendering largely abstract internal concepts in fairly comprehensible ways. i think my prose is quite decent on a sentence level too.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

utterly incapable of finishing anything! or plotting anything! can’t mange a cohesive emotional arc! write myself into overly structured corners or out onto a vast plain with no structure in sight! all the macro elements of storytelling totally elude me, which is very frustrating when i have all this tasty fleshed out micro-level character stuff, but no narrative skeleton upon which to drape it.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? don’t! unless you are very sure you know what you’re doing, and the other language bits are a) very few, b) easily contextually understood, and c) actually adding something other than a weird flex that you know google translate exists.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

11yo me wrote spock/kirk/janice rand and thought she invented the concept of a threesome. brand been stronk since day one 🤘. (the vulcan salute is right next to the devil horns in my emoji list, so....)

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

i love the (ongoing) better with you series very much, not least because i’m still absolutely flabbergasted that i wrote something that long. i think it’s actually pretty good all things considered and it’s very dear to me on many many levels. but the fic that i just viscerally adore, that i love the style of, and that i had such a transcendent, invigorating, organic Experience writing, is temper its strength, adding honey until quite cold, which is a terror fic with the inexplicable pairing of edward little/hartnell, featuring crossdressing and gender stuff. it just burst out of me fully formed one day and i don’t think i’ve managed to top it yet!

lowkey tagging @lingua-mortua @pitcherplant @kaasknot @froggy-babyy @deputychairman @nomercyonlytears @clockheartedcrocodile

#writing meme #whoops it's 3:30am #excellent life choices courtesy of: yours truly

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

A special request

Henry Cavill x reader oneshot

Word count: 1.566 (it was supposed to a drabble mkey?)

Disclaimer: just fluff

Summary: One of your fanfiction stories has made it to the silver screen, starring Henry as your lead. During a talkshow the two of you meet for the first time and fluffy awkwardness ensues.

Author’s note: I dreamed this last night and I swear I was still blushing by the time I woke up - woops.

‘Welcome, welcome Henry! Do sit down.’ The applause slowly died down as Henry sat down, smiling at Graham.

‘Thank you. Thanks for having me Graham.’

‘Now. I’d like to kick in this door straight away. We have a little surprise for you.’

‘A surprise? Okay.. haha’ Henry smiled, raising an eyebrow at the audience.

‘Don’t worry, don’t worry. We’re not going to kidnap you or anything.’ The audience laughed. ‘Now! You’re currently touring for your newest film and we found something that probably would..eh..tickle your fancy.’

‘You did?’ Henry gave a hesitant look at Graham.

‘Before we bring out the surprise, I’m curious; you received the script, which was based on a fanfiction..about you. Did you ever get to read the original story? The fan written one?’

‘I..did..actually. Wait. Please don’t tell me you’ve managed to get her here.’

‘Well..’ Graham shrugged and snickered happily. ‘..time to see for yourself.’ Graham jumped up from his chair and gestured his team to bring in “the present”.

Squinting your eyes and laughing hesitantly you walked up the stage - near losing your footing as you were to occupied with the bright hot lights that shone at the red couch. Meanwhile Henry looked over his shoulder at his “present” and it was clear to anyone he was struck with confusion.

Wait. THIS was the writer?

Graham was first to shake hands with you, allowing Henry some time to quickly scramble up to his feet.

‘Hello dear! So good to have you here and welcome to the Graham Norton show!’ The audience applauded happily as you grinned, your eye soon to land on a slightly flabbergasted Henry.

‘Hi.’ You giggled.

‘Uh..hi.’ Henry outstretched both arms, pulling you in for an awkward hug, leaving you no time to even register what was happening.

Graham chuckled and sat back down, twisting in his chair while you and Henry quickly took your place on the couch, a blush on both your cheeks.

‘So! SURPRISE!’ Graham smiled, flailing out his hands and near throwing his cards in the excitement.

‘This is..a surprise for sure.’ Henry breathed, looking back over at you.

‘First impressions?’ Graham cooed, seeing the nervous but curious looks the two of you shared.

‘Eh…damn you are way bigger than I had expected.’ You blurted out, laughing giddily. ‘I guess pictures DO only tell half the story.’

Henry laughed shyly, looking at his knees for a short moment before he looked back up at you, intrigued by what he saw.

‘Thanks..I guess? And as for me..well..I’ve never seen a picture of you or anything. So I must admit my imagination had run a little wild on what ..you..would look like.’

You raised your eyebrows, slightly surprised: ‘But you have thought about it? Wow. So do you always do that when reading someone’s story?’ You turned slightly, folding your arm over the backrest and pulling up a leg to get more comfortable.

‘Eh…’ Henry’s mind blanked for a moment as his eyes quickly flicked back and forth between Graham and you.

‘Admittedly..no.’ He licked his lips, looking at the audience for a slight as he continued. ‘I..guess this is a good moment to admit that I have read your work. All of your work. And I read your stories WAY before my agent even sent me that script.’

‘Really? Oh…’ Your face flushed bright red at the thought - all those paper thin plot lines to indulge in pure Henry smut? Yes. He read all of them.

Henry smiled, also leaning back on the sofa and moving an arm over the back rest - near mirroring your pose.

‘I really liked them.’ He said matter of factly, searching for eye contact with you. You smiled awkwardly and the fact the audience was “awe”-ing right now, didn’t help much in making the situation any less awkward.

‘Ha..That’s..good. Good. Wow I hadn’t expected that.’ You resumed, sitting up a bit and looking at Henry. He smiled warmly.

‘Okay. Maybe for the audience: just to kind of …share a little intel here.’ You looked at the audience. ‘I write fanfiction that includes what you best can describe as ..porn? With him being one of my regular characters. So. Yes. This is.. strange.’

The audience let out a loud chuckle, some people wooing.

‘Yea..well I’m glad they picked the romcom story to be filmed. Otherwise I might have had to make a career switch.’ Henry shrugged, grinning at the thought. You laughed.

‘Yea..even movie magic would have a hard time translating that in a PG-13 kind of way.’

The two of you snickered and Graham finally leaned back in.

‘Now Henry. You HAVE read all of her material. And you say you DID have some ideas on what she’d look like. I am probably not the only curious about what it is you were expecting?!’ The audience agreed with Graham and you also shrugged, admitting the curiosity was there.

Henry gave an exasperated look at the audience, then directed his attention back at you.

‘Well. Let’s first of all say I definitely didn’t expect anything close to what you look like, so bear with me. From the stories you wrote I could distill that you were at least medium height, probably dark or red haired and I figured you’d have green eyes since your first stories included a lot of characters with green eyes.’

‘Well, you got that right.’ You shrugged, seeing Henry hesitate.

‘I however didn’t expect you to be this…pretty? Eh..goodness this really puts me in the spot now, doesn’t it?’ Henry smiled awkwardly, hoping you wouldn’t get mad.

You however didn’t mind. If anything this was pure gold for your smutty heart.

‘Thank you…Hmm..Gosh this makes the whole situation even more weird. But I guess I could have expected as much. A few weeks ago someone reached out through my DM’s, asking if I wanted to be part of this show. I initially thought someone was pulling my leg. But alas. I got curious. Asked for their contact info. Contacted them. And yes. This was REAL…and now I’m HERE. With you! Life is so weird.’ You rambled, shaking your head in slight disbelief.

‘Well I’m glad you accepted the offer. It’s ..truly nice to meet you. For real now. Not just by reading your work.’

You smiled. ‘It’s nice to meet you too…Henry’ He grinned and you finally, finally dared to take a real, close look at him.

‘You really are one handsome man. Yeeus. In my mind you had like..some medium okay skin, some hair out of place and perhaps a crooked tooth or something. You don’t however. And your eyes are SO much more blue than I had expected. And that heterochromia..’ You gawked in amazement. ‘..okay..now I’m really just babbling. Sorry.’ You sniffled and quickly reached for the glass of wine that stood forlorn on the table.

Henry smiled and followed your movements with quiet curiosity. What he was thinking? Nobody knew.

Graham had been uncharacteristically quiet for some time now and was leaning in to intervene, but decided against it, sitting back in his chair. There was something going on between the two of you that was close to actual real chemistry. Sparks flying and all.

You noticed Graham’s hesitance and gave him a questioning look.

‘Oh please continue.’ Graham smiled, folding his hands in his lap like an excited school kid.

‘Eh okay..’ You turned your attention back to Henry, his blue eyes studying you. A giddy smile tugged on both your lips.

‘So do you write from own experiences?’ He asked.

‘I guess I do. Pretty much everything I write does come from my perspective, my experiences. Though of course..I fill in a lot too. Like..characterising you.’

‘I thought you characterised me pretty well.’ Henry smiled, seeing another shy blush cross over your cheeks.

‘Really?’

‘So much so that I maybe..saved some of your stories on my phone just so I could read them when I need it. Like…’ Henry pulled a face. ‘..like when I am feeling a bit lonely I’ll read the romcom stuff. When I’m fed up or annoyed some of the short stories - love your Geralt work - and when I’m a bit horny..well….’ The audience laughed. ‘Yea. It’s quite unique to be able to read porn about..yourself.’

‘Oh gods.’ You shrunk away a bit as Henry offered you a cheeky smile.

‘It’s…really good.’ Henry gave you a warm, unapologetic smile as you quickly drew in a breath, calming your nerves.

‘Dearness me. In a way you are fanboying over my work and I am fangirling over your work. And that’s all fun and games till you actually meet each other. Are we like…each others fans?’ You asked.

Henry’s smile grew as he tilted his head.

‘I guess we are, hmmm.’ Henry smiled, thinking.

‘Yep.’ You nodded, also somewhat lost in thought.

A quiet moment snuck in as you both took on a pensive expression.

...

‘He—.’ ‘Heyy.’ You both spoke simultaneously.

‘Ladies first.’ Henry quickly added.

You smiled: ‘If you have any special requests…I mean..I’d gladly…write..for you.’ With every word you became more confused, seeing Henry burst out in laughter, shoulders shaking.

‘That was just what I was about to ask.’

‘Hmm? Really?’

‘Really.’ He smiled, leaning in slightly. ‘First request. How about ..a first date?’

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x reader #fluff #graham norton #henry bear #tv interview #meet cute #fans #a special request

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buttercup-of-kaer-morhen · 4 years

Note

Hello yes I am Completely Anonymous ONCE AGAIN and I have a prompt for you! Temporary (perhaps potion or drug induced?) Amnesiac!Geralt being absolutely floored and delighted that Jaskier is his lover. Please and thank you.

Hey completely anon,

I may or may not have gone a little off script for this prompt and really wanted to write more for my dumb magical college AU. Hope you enjoy it anyway. May I present!

Magic and Exams: Amnesia

Main tags: college AU, it’s modern but with magic slapped in, Jaskier and Yenn are besties (Fight me), Lambert/Aiden kinda?, Non human Jaskier, And they were roommates~, pure fluff, pre relationship, pining… Kinda, unbetaed, we die like Renfri

——

It was official! Fate was cruel and destiny hated him. Jaskier had been fine with how life had been going. Classes were good. Friends were great. And, you know, he had finally stepped into a tentative friendship territory with his hot roomie rather than that weird close relationship you develop with your roomie. Things were just grand!-- Ignore the fact that he had a monster crush on said roomie, not important!-- What was important was that Lambert, the ass, suddenly showed up on Jaskier’s free day-- a day he was dedicating to his reading and composing, bouncing around his hobbies as he pleased-- with a semi confused looking Geralt. The witcher had barged into the dorm room towing Geralt along as Aiden brought up the rear. Now, he was going to ignore this intrusion at first but Lamby seemed to have other ideas. He loudly proclaimed to the bewildered white wolf that this was his room and, oh look, his partner. “Go ham bro!” To which, Geralt’s gaze snapped to Jaskier and proceeded to silently stare at the musician in contemplation.

Jaskier, as one would imagine, was stunned as his brain tried to understand what was happening but the dickhead explained no further as he turned to leave. Having none of it, Jaskier quickly stumbled to his feet and bolted for the two retreating figures, almost tripping several times on the shit covering the floor-- he really needed to remember to clean one of these just as Geralt had nagged him to do days ago! He managed to get a hand on the other wolf before he fully got out the door. “Explain. Now.” He demanded, his voice warbling as his eyes darkened slightly.

“Woah shrimp!Calm your tits, you’re starting to look a little red around the gills-- Seriously though, a little siren is beginning to show.” Lambert tried to make light of the situation-- fish puns again, really Lambert?-- even though his smile gained a touch of nervousness as Jaskier tightened his grip. He held back his claws for the moment but he was this close to having a truly marvelous freak out on the man if he didn’t start giving answers.

“Calm down angelfish, Lambert’s just being a prick as per usual.” Aiden cut off anything Lambert was going to say. Lambert gasped in betrayal as he gave the third witcher a look that probably tried to convey how much he was wounded, he couldn’t really see though nor did he really care right now. “Situation is, we were having a class trip across campus, something monster related that our proff was gushing the fuck over and insisted we needed to see. Waaaay too excited over it if you ask me but while we were passing a class of freshies in an outdoor charms 101 class, this one chick starts going off at--” Aiden explained but really, it seemed more like he was slowly getting off topic as he spoke.

“Kitty, Get. To. The. Point.” He insisted slowly punctuating each word, while frowning in annoyance.

“Rude. I am! Anyway, this girl gets into a row with this guy in her class and fires off some kind of spell which was deflected but hilariously it ricocheted right towards us.” That was not hilarious in anyway but rather terrifying but Jaskier refrained from pointing this out. “You know Geralt though, life loves to fuck with him, so he gets hit straight in the back with it and Poof! He can’t remember some shit now. We think he only remembers up to starting college but nothing after.” Aiden finally finishes with a proud smile at having riveted the musician with his tale of adventure but it diminishes slightly in the face of Jaskier’s baffled expression. The half-siren really was quite proud of it, it just conveyed the right amount of Are you fucking idiots or did you just lose your brain on the way over!?

Jaskier took a deep breath and calmed himself before flatly staring both in the eye, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth as he thought of how to respond. “And why, pray tell, did you bring my accidentally spelled roommate to me rather than sending him to infirm?” He asked, deceptively sweet with a razor’s edge to it.

Lambert scoffed. “He was being fucking annoying--” His words were abruptly cut off by Aiden’s hand roughly smacking over his mouth.

“What he means is…” Aiden growled, glaring at the wolf to make sure he kept his mouth shut, to which Lambert huffed and flipped him off but otherwise remained silent. “Geralt kept prodding us ‘bout going to see his partner and, well, you were like the only one we could think of since everyone else has someone and this idiot is single like you.” The man punctuated his simplistic logic with a small shrug.

Jaskier took a deep breath through his nose. “Uh-huh… This is a terrible fucking idea--” Before he could finish what he wanted to say, Lambert suddenly yanked his self free of his grip and threw Aiden over his shoulder.

“Your problem now bard!” He called over his shoulder as he booked it down the hall, cackling like the bastard he was.

“Oh nonononono! Get the fuck back here!” He called after fruitlessly. They were already long gone.

Jaskier sighed as he turned and closed the door to their room. Geralt seemed to have ignored and blocked out the whole exchange. Whether out of courtesy for Jaskier privacy or in favor of refamiliarizing himself with their space, he’d never know nor did he really care. When he finally turned his gaze back onto Jaskier, he just stared while scowling intensely in thought. It was rather insulting if Jaskier was being frank. With a roll of the eyes, the musician realized he’d just have to roll with whatever the idiots told Geralt about their “relationship” but wanted to head off the coming disappointment from the witcher. Jaskier was obviously not what he had been expecting, especially since normally the man barely tolerated him much less ever tried to invite him out, but it would sting less if he were the one to address it rather than the larger man stating it. At least that’s what he told himself. “Ok, alright. I know I’m not what you were expecting and rather disappointing compared to some of your past dalliances but please, let’s just get you to infirm. Once you have your head back on right, everything will make more sense about the whole us thing and we can just forget about this whole embarrass--”

“You’re so handsome…” Geralt’s awed words cut Jaskier’s rambling off at the knees and had him blinking in surprise. “Or cute. No, both… How do you manage to be both?!” Geralt’s marveling had Jaskier at a loss for words. The witcher had never once complimented him in all the time they had lived together. Barbed jabs? Yes. Playful teasing? Very Often. Statements of facts? Definitely. But actual full on compliments? Nope! No, never happened. Was this how he actually saw the musician or was this some hokey hocus pocus side effect?! Or the man was dying as they spoke and was out of his mind. Either way Jaskier snapped his mouth closed, no it had not been hanging open thank you very much, and tried to get his brain to work again.

“Wai-What?” Smooth Jaskier. His flabbergasted tone and excessive blinking seemed to not queue in Geralt however.

“Man, I really lucked out. How’d I get a catch like you to even look my way? Wish I could remember how…” The normally stoic individual whistled long and low as he gave Jaskier a once over. A once over! Like Jaskier was a hottie from a club-- or however Ren said it-- instead of some music nerd overloaded with college minors! Jaskier was so astonished and caught off guard that he bagan sputtering incoherently, much to the Witcher’s amusement apparently if the wolfish grin was anything to go by. He was shocked and scandalized! Delighted but absolutely shocked! He had never witnessed this side of his roommate. Instead of addressing whatever was happening here, Jaskier stumbled over to his phone on the bed and quickly dialed Yennefer.

It rang twice before he heard the familiar click of her answering and began nearly shouting before she could give her usual passive aggressive hello. “Yenn! I need help--”

“Whoa, calm the fuck down Jask, what the hell happened?!” Her worried demands cut him off. It was rather heartwarming to know his best friend sounded ready to draw blood for him. He could coo and awe about that later though!

“I’m fine but Geralt got hit with some hoodoo amnesia magic but I think it’s really just killing him! He’s acting delusional Yenn! He called me cute-- Stop laughing! This is serious!” He attempted to explain what was going on but his witch cut him off with her hysterical laughing on the other end of the line. Rude, by the way. This was a very serious matter.

“Sorry Dandy, you just, whew, gave me the best pick me up, I could have asked for. You really got me.” Yenn attempted to speak after most of it calmed down but a few giggles still managed to slip out.

“Yenn… I’m serious. He actually doesn--” He was cut off yet again. People really needed to cut that shit out.

“Lemme guess, Lambert is somehow involved?” She questioned, finally taking him a little more seriously, and he could practically hear her eye roll at the mischief maker’s name.

“Yes…” He confirmed slowly as his eye wandered to Geralt again as his panic died down slightly. The white haired man looked very confused as Jaskier tried to smile reassuringly but it probably came off as unsure at best.

The larger man came closer and placed warm large hands on his biceps as he looked intently into Jaskier’s eyes. “I mean it… I’m sorry if I never told you, I guess I was a pretty shitty boyfriend if I never told you how wonderful and caring you seem to be.” The other man apologized, as he looked away in shame. The words had the musician’s heart going wild as Yenn continued to talk in his ear. He really couldn’t hear her over his heart beating in his ears but it sounded like a demand to get Geralt to the infirmary.

To which Jaskier answered, “That’s nice dear. I think I have to go to infirm now because I believe my heart is about to give out.” His voice was sighed out in shock as he hung up on Yenn’s sudden worried screeching. Geralt on the other hand suddenly looked panicked and rather worried.

“What?” He questioned as he started to look over his “boyfriend”. “Don’t worry Jask, I’ll get you there. Just hang on.” Geralt tried to reassure him, his voice was handsome with how rough and rumbling it suddenly was, as he scooped the smaller man up into his arms like a bride. No, Jaskier did not swoon he’ll have you know! The wolf then booked it out of the room. “Damn it! I wish Roach were here…” He muttered in a growl and Jaskier thanked the heavens that the man did not remember his horse-- cat? Was in their room sleeping. There would be plenty of rumors after this but it especially would have gone down in infamy if the Witcher had rode like the wind across campus on horseback again. Jaskier couldn’t do much at that point except lay back, accept his fate, and enjoy the other’s cooing, about taking care of his boyfriend or how good Jaskier was, while it lasted. But hey, at least he’d finally get Geralt to infirm.

#Witcher #witcher netflix #Geraskier #fanfic #geralt x jaskier #gerlion #non human jaskier #college au #Lambert #Aiden #lambert/aiden #yennefer #Jaskier and Yennefer besties #Buttercup's writings

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