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maybanksmusings · 9 hours ago

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THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; there is now a taglist! to be added simply let me know down in the comments. enjoy part two!

part one.

as much as you’d grown fond of sarah in the couple of hours since your arrival, her friends made your skin crawl. topper, her boyfriend, with his dumb face and holier-than-thou attitude. you didn’t see what sarah could possibly find appealing, but it wasn’t your place to meddle.

for the duration of getting ready, all sarah did was talk about jj. more specifically, you and jj. she even offered to set you two up, but with sarahs standing with the pouges, it didn’t take a genius to figure out it's better to go solo.

sarahs cropped, off the shoulder sweater does little to shield you from the cool breeze sweeping across the beach. even stuffing your hands into the pockets of your shorts did very little.

you’d seen on tiktok, the most reliable source of information, that alcohol warmed people up which is why you were already on the fourth drink of the night.

nothing to do with finding the courage to talk to john b, that would be ridiculous.

you and sarah were sat on the opposite side of the beach to the pouges, the wooden log hurting your butt as it was used as a makeshift seat. through the flames of the bonfire you watch the pouges, laughing and drinking.

you’re looking at john b and can’t help spotting the similarities between you two, even down to small mannerisms you shared. you wondered if he had any idea about you, if your father had ever told him about you.

taking another swig, your gaze falls onto another pouge of interest. you’re surprised to see he’s already looking at you, nodding his head to gesture you over.

you smile, a genuine, excited smile. it’s too early for schoolgirl crushes, yet you can’t help it. the alcohol in your system doesn’t help it either.

you mumble a quick 'be right back' to sarah, sitting beside you engrossed in deep conversation with an unknown girl about selling sunsets' newest season. she glances at you over her shoulder, giving you a quick nod of acknowledgment and reminding you to be safe.

you head over to the pouges, a light jog across the beach brings you there faster but not fast enough. the reckless, and tipsy, part of your brain wants to get your intentions out in the open. you want to pull john b to the side and pour your drunken little heart out, and if it ended badly you could blame the alcohol.

but then you imagined yourself in his position, how you would feel if john b randomly showed up and dropped a bomb into your life unprovoked.

he looked so happy, like he was having the time of his life, and you couldn't bring yourself to ruin that. the least you could do was spare him the honour of hearing it from you when you were sober, without an audience.

"there she is," jj grins, not exactly slurring his words but you could tell he was buzzed at the very least "turn around, wanna get a good look at you."

with a playful eye roll, you give in to his request, twirling in a circle and laughing at the wolf whistle he lets out in response.

you're more than compliant when he reaches a hand towards you and pulls you closer, the same hand gripping your waist as he held you against his side.

admittedly, you're surprised when he doesn't make a move the second you're close enough. instead he holds on to you as he continues his conversation with pope, almost protectively, possessively.

"kie, back me up here," jj pleads, free hand being thrown up in the air in protest. the same girl from earlier, which you now know to be kie, throws her hands up in surrender.

"not my beef, i'm the neutral party in this war"

you can't help but laugh at the swiftness of her shutdown, your head resting comfortably against jj's shoulder as his thumb grazed back and forth against the skin beneath your sweater.

now, pope and kie are bickering back and forth, john b is flirting with what was commonly referred to as a 'touron' which leaves you and jj in your own little bubble, content and comfortable.

"so, what do you think of paradise so far?" jj asks, voice soft and a sarcastic emphasis on paradise "not too bad, huh?"

"it's growing on me," you grin, putting the sudden butterflies in your stomach down to having too much to drink "i've lived in worse places."

an eyebrow quirks, curiosity evident on jjs face, you can tell he wants to ask more, but for someone so forward he seems to be reluctant.

"don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to sticking in one place," you admit, as truthful as you can be without saying too much "kinda just bounce around."

"sounds expensive, you sure you ain't a kook?" jj teases, head tilted downward to bring you two face to face "'cause, i'm down with the whole being a sugar baby thing."

you laugh, loudly, head flung back, hair being blown in the wind as jj retains his grip on you, awestruck as he took you in for as long as he could. he wished he could freeze this moment and live in it forever, which made him want to squirm because he had just met you that day.

your bubble of euphoria is quickly burst, the beach erupting in roars as people grouped around the shore. a fight.

you roll your eyes, annoyed beyond explanation. you scan the crowd, trying to pick out any faces you could even somewhat recognise in an attempt to work out who was at the root of the fight.

much like this morning, you see that recognisable flash of blonde pushing through the crowds. your posture straightens, a weird feeling of protectiveness taking hold as her screams of toppers name rise above the chants of 'fight'.

you really did not like topper, so you weren't pushing through people for him, but for sarah.

"top! you're gonna kill him!"

and she wasn't wrong, as you drew closer to the scene you had a plain view of the scene that had the partygoers enthralled. topper holding someone under the water, obviously wanting whoever was under to not come back up.

it's only when you catch sight of who topper is trying to kill does your feet speed up, carrying you faster and faster towards the water. your brain struggling to come up with a plan as fast as you're moving.

you don't know how it happens, but you're on toppers back, your arm wrapped so tightly around his neck that you're starting to lose feeling. in some sort of femme fetal action movie, you would've taken him down.

but it wasn't a movie.

as if it was nothing, topper reaches behind himself and pulls you off him, ripping you straight into the ice-cold water.

"fuckin' pouge" he spits, hands wrapping around your throat as he forces you underwater this time. you claw and kick and squirm, but he's stronger. what feels like hours is only seconds, when you break the surface your hands are bloody and there's a gash across toppers face.

your reprieve is short-lived, only having come up in the first place because topper had recoiled in pain. you were far from a quitter, but this was a fight you knew you weren't coming out of. so when the water covered your face once more, you let it.

it was scarily peaceful, people's screams and shouts practically inaudible. falling asleep would be easy right about now, you could just drift off.

you would probably be better off.

your delusional tranquillity comes to an abrupt end when you, yet again, resurface. this time the party is well and truly over, people running in every direction.

you worried it was the cops, you really would have been better off if topper had finished the job if that was the case.

"hey, hey you good?" john b is holding your face as you cough up the water you inhaled. his voice is soft, gentle as he checks on you.

he was the big brother you grew up praying for, only he was none the wiser.

when you burst into tears it's put down to shock, and when you throw your arms around john b he doesn't question it, instead he helps you to your feet.

"come on kid, we got you."

when you wake you have no idea where you are, sun filters through flimsy curtains and you're dressed in clothes you definitely weren't wearing the night before.

before you have time to work yourself into a breakdown, a soft knock raps against the door. it opens before you can say a word.

john b gently closes the door behind him, sitting at the foot of the bed to give you as much space as possible "how are you feeling?"

"whose clothes are these?" you blurt out, desperately wanting to figure out how she got into this outfit and, more importantly, who put you into it.

as if he could read your mind, he explains "kie, kiara, had the supplies. got you changed out of your wet clothes, alone, scouts honour."

a sigh of relief bellows through your entire body, at least that was something.

"i gotta ask you something," john b starts, his tone shifting ever so slightly to one more serious "i went through everything in my head a dozen times but i can't work out why you did that?"

"did what?"

"saved my life." john b deadpans, looking you in the eye with an intensity that tells you you can't lie your way out of this one "you could have died."

without a word, you stand. you find your damp clothes tossed in a corner and pick them up. john b watches as you stuff your hands into your pockets, dread bubbling up as he tried to come up with what your reasoning could possibly be.

when you return, you sit beside him with your hands clasped around the cold metal you'd pulled from the pocket of your shorts.

"you have to hear me out." you being, hyperaware of how insane what you were about to tell him was "believe me, i know this is insane."

watching his reaction, you show him the compass your father had given you. up until recently, your mother had it tucked away safely in her room. you never met your father, you were told he died when you were a baby. but then you got a sweet sixteen card in the mail, and then there was no record of a deceased john routledge, and then, a week ago, his face is all over your television screen alongside a brother you never knew you had.

you pop the back off of the compass, revealing the hidden compartment not many people knew existed and taking a small, folded note from inside.

"hey, ducky. been a while since i wrote, you know what mom is like. listen, duck, we haven't been entirely honest with you, your mom and i. if you're okay with it, there's someone i'd like you to meet." you read out the note, voice shaky and hands trembling "he left an address at the bottom."

john b carefully takes the note from your hands, wiping away a stray tear thinking you hadn't seen it. he reads it, over and over "this is this address, my dads writing if he signed it dad that means.."

you nod, knowing whats racing through his head all too well "yeah" you sniffle, not exactly sure why you were crying.

"john b, you're my brother."

taglist!

@rainingcecilias

#jj maybank #maybanksmusings #jj maybank x reader #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank smut #jj obx #obx #outer banks #obx season 4 #obx4 #outer banks season 4 #outerbanks #obx cast #rafe obx #criminal minds #john b routledge #john b obx #john b outer banks

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ofiscariot · 8 months ago

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XII. THE HANGED MAN.

the hanged man, pamela colman smith // judas hanged, nardo di cione // preparatory sketches for pitturi infamanti, andrea del sarto // “speculum imperfectionis: the image of judas in late medieval italy,” janet robson // “l’appeso/le pendu/the hanged man,” sherryl e. smith // the death of judas iscariot, julius schnorr von carolsfeld // the sacrifice of odin, lorenz frølich // “yggdrasil: the sacred ash tree of norse mythology,” the public domain review // anonymous verse, recorded by óláfr þórðarson // judas, gabriel von max // seventy-eight degrees of wisdom, rachel pollack // the gospel of judas

#good friday #judas iscariot #odin #tarot #the hanged man #web weaving #;do you still seek to know?#;oops! all towers!#;safe in the spots that the light can’t reach.#;the star that leads the way is your star.

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pucksandpower · 3 months ago

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Find Me Again

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)

Alexandria, 30 BC

The scorching Egyptian sun beats down on Alexandria as you hurry through the bustling streets, your sandals slapping against the warm stone. The air is thick with tension — whispers of Octavian’s approaching army have the city on edge. But your mind is elsewhere, focused on the stolen moments you’ll soon share with Lando.

You slip into a secluded alleyway, heart racing as you spot his familiar silhouette. Lando’s face lights up when he sees you, though worry creases his brow.

“There you are,” he murmurs, pulling you close. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

You melt into his embrace, savoring his warmth. “I’m sorry I’m late. The palace has been in chaos with all the rumors flying about.”

Lando’s arms tighten around you. “It’s true then? Octavian draws near?”

You nod against his chest. “I fear so. Cleopatra grows more desperate by the day.”

He pulls back, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His dark eyes search yours intently. “Come away with me,” he pleads. “We can leave the city tonight, find passage on a ship bound for Greece or Cyprus.”

Your heart aches at the longing in his voice. “Lando, you know I can’t abandon my duty to the queen. She needs me now more than ever.”

“And what of my need for you?” Lando’s voice cracks with emotion. “Each day I’m torn between my loyalty to Rome and my love for you. I cannot bear the thought of you in danger when Octavian’s forces arrive.”

You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “My brave soldier,” you murmur. “Always trying to protect me. But I’ve survived far worse than regime changes. We’ll find a way through this, as we always do.”

Lando leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “I wish I had your optimism. Every time I close my eyes, I see visions of you lying lifeless amidst the chaos of battle.”

A chill runs down your spine despite the oppressive heat. “Don’t speak of such things,” you chide gently. “We make our own fate, remember?”

He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. I just ... I can’t shake this feeling of impending doom. Promise me you’ll be careful, my love. Promise you’ll do whatever it takes to stay safe.”

“I promise,” you whisper, sealing the vow with a tender kiss.

Lando responds eagerly, drawing you closer as the kiss deepens. For a blissful moment, the world fades away and there is only the two of you, lost in each other’s embrace.

A distant shout breaks the spell. You reluctantly pull away, both breathing heavily.

“I should go,” you murmur regretfully. “Cleopatra will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”

Lando nods, though he doesn’t release you from his arms. “When can I see you again?”

You bite your lip, considering. “Three days from now, at sunset. Meet me by the lighthouse?”

“I’ll be there,” he vows solemnly. “Be safe, my love.”

With a final lingering kiss, you slip from his embrace and hurry back towards the palace. Your heart feels lighter despite the looming threats, buoyed by Lando’s love and the promise of your next rendezvous.

But fate, it seems, has other plans.

The next few days pass in a blur of mounting tension. Cleopatra grows increasingly erratic, oscillating between grandiose plans to seduce Octavian and talks of ending her own life. You do your best to comfort and counsel her, all while stealing moments to daydream about your upcoming meeting with Lando.

On the fated evening, you’re helping Cleopatra prepare for bed when she suddenly fixates on a basket of figs brought by a servant.

“Ah, how fitting,” she muses, a strange glint in her eye. “Did you know, my dear, that the Egyptians that came before us believed figs to be the fruit of the afterlife?”

A chill runs down your spine. “My queen?”

Cleopatra waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I was simply contemplating the cyclical nature of life and death. Come, help me into bed.”

You obey, tucking the sheets around her with practiced ease. As you turn to leave, her hand darts out to grasp your wrist.

“Stay with me a while longer,” she implores. “I find I cannot bear to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Your heart sinks, knowing you’ll miss your rendezvous with Lando. But duty wins out over desire. “Of course, my queen. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Hours pass as you sit by Cleopatra’s bedside, listening to her reminisce about better days. Just as your eyelids begin to grow heavy, a commotion in the hall startles you both fully awake.

“What’s happening?” Cleopatra demands, sitting up.

Before you can answer, the doors burst open and a breathless messenger stumbles in. “My queen,” he pants, “Octavian’s army has breached the city walls!”

Cleopatra’s face hardens. “So, the end has come at last.” She turns to you, her gaze intense. “Fetch me the asp.”

Your blood runs cold. “My queen, surely there must be another way-”

“Do not argue with me!” She snaps. “I will not be paraded through Rome as Octavian’s prize. Now go, quickly!”

With a heavy heart, you hurry to retrieve the venomous snake from its hidden chamber. Your hands shake as you return, presenting the basket to Cleopatra.

She reaches for it eagerly, but pauses. Her eyes meet yours, softening slightly. “My faithful friend,” she murmurs. “You have served me well. I release you from your duties. Go, find that Roman boy of yours and flee while you still can.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “You knew?”

Cleopatra’s lips quirk in a sad smile. “I’ve always known. Now go, before it’s too late.”

Torn between duty and desire, you hesitate. In that moment of indecision, everything changes.

Cleopatra reaches for the asp, but in her haste, she knocks the basket from your hands. The snake falls to the floor, immediately striking at the nearest target … you.

Pain explodes in your ankle as the asp’s fangs sink into your flesh. You cry out, stumbling backwards.

“No!” Cleopatra wails, lunging to catch you as you fall.

The world begins to spin as the venom courses through your veins. Your last coherent thought is of Lando, waiting faithfully by the lighthouse. As darkness closes in, you pray he’ll forgive you for breaking your promise.

Hours later, Lando fights his way through the chaos of the conquered city. He charges into the palace, heedless of the danger, desperate to find you.

When he bursts into Cleopatra’s chambers, his worst fears are realized. Two bodies lie motionless on the floor — the queen and beside her ...

“No,” he chokes out, falling to his knees beside your lifeless form. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lando gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as sobs wrack his body. “You promised,” he whispers brokenly. “You promised you’d stay safe.”

But promises, like empires, are so easily broken. As the sun rises on a new era for Egypt, it sets on this chapter of your shared story. Yet even as this life ends, the seeds of the next are already taking root, waiting to bloom in another time, another place.

For true love, like the mighty Nile, cannot be contained. It flows ever onward, carving new paths through the landscape of eternity.

Pompeii, 79 AD

The ground trembles beneath your feet as you race through the chaotic streets of Pompeii. Ash rains from the sky, coating everything in a ghostly gray shroud. All around, people scream and push, desperately seeking escape from the fury of Mount Vesuvius.

“Lando!” You call out, your voice hoarse from the acrid air. “Lando, where are you?”

A hand suddenly grabs your arm, yanking you into a narrow alleyway. You whirl around, ready to fight, only to find yourself face to face with Lando. His usually immaculate toga is torn and stained with soot, his dark curls matted with ash.

“Thank the gods,” he breathes, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “I thought I’d lost you in the crowd.”

You cling to him tightly, savoring his familiar warmth amidst the chaos. “We need to get out of the city,” you say urgently. “The mountain — it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Lando nods grimly. “I know. I’ve been trying to make it to the harbor, but the roads are completely blocked. It’s madness out there.”

Another tremor rocks the ground, stronger than before. Pieces of masonry rain down from the surrounding buildings. Lando shields you with his body as you both press against the alley wall.

“We can’t stay here,” you say once the shaking subsides. “It’s not safe.”

“Nowhere is safe,” Lando replies, his eyes haunted. “But you’re right, we need to keep moving. Come on, I know another way to the docks.”

Hand-in-hand, you dash back out into the crowded street. The air grows thicker with each passing moment, making it harder to breathe. You pull the edge of your stola over your mouth and nose, squinting through the haze.

Lando leads you through a maze of side streets and back alleys, avoiding the worst of the panicked crowds. But with each turn, your hope dwindles. The mountain’s fury seems to be growing by the minute, raining down fire and ash with terrifying intensity.

As you round another corner, you come face to face with a wall of rubble blocking the entire street. Lando curses under his breath, pounding his fist against a fallen column.

“It’s no use,” he says, defeat creeping into his voice. “Every path to the harbor is cut off. We’re trapped.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll find somewhere to wait it out. The gods won’t abandon us. We just have to have faith.”

He turns to you, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Always the optimist, aren’t you? Even in the face of certain doom.”

“One of us has to be,” you reply, managing a weak smile of your own.

Another violent tremor shakes the ground, nearly knocking you both off your feet. In the distance, you hear the ominous rumble of collapsing buildings.

“Quick, in here!” Lando shouts, pulling you towards a sturdy-looking stone building. You duck inside just as a fresh barrage of burning rocks pelts the street where you were standing moments ago.

As your eyes adjust to the dimness, you realize you’re in some kind of workshop. Half-finished statues and blocks of marble are scattered about, coated in a fine layer of ash that has sifted through the cracks.

“A sculptor’s studio,” Lando muses, running his hand along a nearby bust. “Rather fitting, don’t you think? To spend our last moments surrounded by art meant to outlast us all.”

You shoot him a reproachful look. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end. We’ll get through this, just like we always do.”

He sighs, pulling you close. “I admire your spirit, my love. But I fear this time, the Fates have other plans for us.”

As if to punctuate his words, the ground gives another violent lurch. The air grows even thicker, filled with choking dust and sulfurous fumes.

“It’s getting harder to breathe,” you gasp, fighting back a coughing fit.

Lando guides you to a relatively clear corner of the room, helping you sit on the floor before settling beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side.

“Just try to take shallow breaths,” he instructs, his own voice strained. “Like this, see?”

You nod, focusing on matching your breathing to his. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your labored breaths and the distant rumble of the mountain.

“Lando?” You whisper after a while.

“Hmm?”

“I’m scared.”

He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, love. I am too.”

“Tell me a story?” You ask, your voice small. “Like you used to, when we first met. Remember?”

Lando chuckles softly. “How could I forget? You were the most stubborn student I’ve ever had the misfortune of tutoring.”

“Hey!” You protest weakly, managing a smile despite everything. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh no?” He teases. “Who was it that insisted the Odyssey would be vastly improved if Odysseus had simply asked for directions?”

You laugh, the sound quickly dissolving into a cough. “Well, it’s true! Twenty years to get home? Penelope should have moved on.”

Lando shakes his head in mock dismay. “Such disrespect for the classics. I clearly failed as your tutor.”

“Never,” you murmur, snuggling closer to him. “You taught me far more important things than dusty old stories.”

“Oh? And what might those be?”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “You taught me what it means to truly love someone. To find a home not in a place, but in a person.”

Lando’s eyes shine with unshed tears as he leans down to kiss you softly. “And you, my darling, taught me that life is meant to be lived, not just studied. You brought color to my world of scrolls and stone.”

Another tremor shakes the building, sending a fresh wave of dust raining down on you both. The air grows thicker, each breath a struggle.

“Lando,” you wheeze, gripping his hand tightly. “I don’t want to die.”

He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Promise you won’t leave me?” You plead, your vision starting to blur.

“Never,” he vows fiercely. “Not in this life or any other. Wherever our souls go next, we go together. I promise.”

You manage a weak nod, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. As consciousness begins to slip away, you’re struck by a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Lando?” You murmur, your voice barely audible.

“Yes, love?”

“I think ... I think we’ve done this before.”

He lets out a shaky laugh. “What, died in each other’s arms while a volcano erupts? I think I’d remember that.”

You shake your head slightly. “No, not exactly. But this feeling ... like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’ll find each other again, no matter what.”

Lando is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Maybe we have. Maybe we will. I’d like to think so.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

As the world crumbles around you, you cling to each other. Your last thoughts are not of fear or regret, but of the love you share. A love so powerful it transcends time itself.

And as this chapter closes, another waits to begin. For some bonds are too strong to be broken, even by death. Your souls are destined to find each other again and again, weaving an eternal tapestry of love across the ages.

Salem, 1692

The air in the Salem courthouse is thick with tension and the bitter scent of fear. You stand before the assembled judges, your wrists bound tightly with rough rope that chafes your skin. The crowd of onlookers murmurs and shifts restlessly, their faces a sea of suspicion and barely concealed hostility.

Lando sits among them, his face a mask of anguish as he watches the proceedings. He wants nothing more than to rush to your side, to shield you from the madness that has gripped the town. But he knows that any show of support would only damn you further in the eyes of the court.

Judge Hathorne’s voice rings out, silencing the whispers. “The accused will step forward.”

You take a shaky step, raising your chin defiantly despite the terror coursing through your veins.

“You stand accused of witchcraft and consorting with the devil,” Hathorne intones gravely. “How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” you declare, your voice stronger than you feel. “I am no witch, merely a midwife and herbalist. I have done nothing but help this community.”

A snort of derision comes from the crowd. You turn to see Goodwife Putnam, her face twisted with malice. “Lies!” She shrieks. “I saw her dancing naked in the woods, consorting with dark spirits!”

“That’s not true!” You protest. “I was gathering herbs for my remedies, nothing more!”

Judge Hathorne raises an eyebrow. “And can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on the night in question?”

Your heart sinks. You had been alone that night, as you often were when foraging. “I ... I was alone, your honor. But I swear on all that is holy, I am no witch.”

A ripple of whispers sweeps through the crowd. Lando’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tight with the effort of remaining silent.

“Very convenient,” Hathorne remarks dryly. “Goody Putnam, you may continue with your testimony.”

The woman stands, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that chills you to the bone. “I’ve seen her speaking to animals as if they could understand her. And just last week, my cow’s milk turned sour the very day after she visited our farm!”

“That’s ridiculous!” You exclaim. “Milk spoils, it’s a natural occurrence. And I often speak to animals, as do many others. It does not make me a witch!”

But your protests fall on deaf ears. One by one, your neighbors step forward with increasingly outlandish accusations. Every misfortune, every unexplained event is laid at your feet.

“She cursed my crops!”

“My child fell ill after eating her bread!”

“I saw her flying on a broomstick!”

The claims grow more absurd, but the judges nod solemnly at each one. You feel the noose of suspicion tightening around your neck with each passing moment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Lando leaps to his feet. “This is madness!” He shouts. “You’re condemning an innocent woman based on nothing but gossip and superstition!”

All eyes turn to him. Judge Danforth fixes him with a steely glare. “Master Norris, you will remain silent or be removed from this courtroom.”

“I will not be silent while you murder an innocent woman!” Lando retorts. He turns to the crowd, imploring them. “Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re tearing our community apart with these baseless accusations!”

A murmur of uncertainty ripples through the onlookers. For a moment, you dare to hope that reason might prevail.

But then Abigail Williams, one of the young girls at the center of the witch hunt, lets out a blood-curdling shriek. She points a trembling finger at you. “Her specter! I see her specter tormenting me even now!”

The other girls quickly join in, writhing and screaming as if in the throes of possession. The courtroom erupts into chaos.

“Order!” Judge Hathorne bellows, pounding his gavel. “Order in the court!”

As the commotion dies down, he turns to you, his expression grave. “The evidence against you is overwhelming. Unless you confess and repent, I have no choice but to find you guilty of witchcraft.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. You know that a confession might spare your life, but it would mean living a lie. And worse, it would lend credence to the madness gripping Salem.

“I will not confess to crimes I did not commit,” you say quietly but firmly. “I am innocent before God and man.”

Judge Hathorne’s face hardens. “Then you leave us no choice. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul.”

The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and shocked gasps. Lando’s anguished cry rises above the din. “No! You can’t do this!”

He rushes towards you, but is quickly restrained by two burly constables. “Let me go!” He shouts, struggling against their grip. “She’s innocent!”

Your eyes meet his across the chaotic courtroom. Despite everything, you manage a small, sad smile. “It’s alright, Lando,” you call out. “Be strong. This isn’t your fault.”

As the guards move to lead you away, Lando breaks free and rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands, his eyes wild with desperation. “I’ll find a way to stop this,” he vows. “I won’t let them take you.”

You lean into his touch, memorizing the feel of his hands on your skin. “There’s nothing you can do, my love. Promise me you’ll stay safe. Don’t let them take you too.”

“I can’t lose you,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face.

“You won’t,” you whisper fiercely. “Not really. I don’t know how I know this, but I swear we’ll find each other again. In another life, another time. This isn’t the end for us.”

The guards roughly pull you apart. As they drag you away, you keep your eyes locked on Lando’s, drawing strength from his gaze.

The next few days pass in a blur of fear and desperate prayer. You cling to the strange certainty that had come over you in the courtroom — that somehow, someway, this is not truly the end for you and Lando.

On the day of your execution, you walk to the gallows with your head held high. The crowd that has gathered is subdued, some already beginning to question the justice of what’s happening.

You scan the faces, searching for Lando, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Your heart aches at his absence, but you understand. It would be too painful for him to watch.

As the noose is placed around your neck, you close your eyes and think of Lando. Of his laugh, his gentle touch, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hold onto these memories as the world falls away beneath your feet.

Your last conscious thought is a promise — to find him again, no matter how long it takes.

Miles away, hidden in the woods, Lando feels the exact moment you leave this world. He collapses to his knees, a wordless cry of anguish tearing from his throat. But even in his grief, he feels the echo of your final promise.

“I’ll find you,” he whispers to the uncaring forest. “In this life or the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”

And so another chapter closes, the threads of your shared destiny stretching onward through time. The cycle continues, each life bringing you closer to the moment when you’ll finally break free of this endless dance of death and rebirth.

Yekaterinburg, 1918

The Ipatiev House looms dark and foreboding in the Yekaterinburg night. You pace the confines of your makeshift prison, the once-opulent rooms now a stark reminder of how far the mighty Romanovs have fallen. The sound of raised voices and heavy footsteps from the floor below sends a chill down your spine.

“They’re coming,” your sister Maria whispers, her eyes wide with fear.

Before you can respond, the door bursts open. A group of armed men file in, their faces grim and purposeful. Your heart nearly stops when you spot a familiar face among them.

“Lando?” You gasp, scarcely able to believe your eyes.

He meets your gaze, his expression a turbulent mix of emotions. “Grand Duchess,” he says stiffly, the formal title at odds with the intimate moments you’ve shared in secret.

“What’s happening?” You demand, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Why are you here?”

Yakov Yurovsky, the commandant of the house, steps forward. “The Ural Soviet has decided to execute the Romanov family,” he announces coldly. “You are to be moved to the basement immediately.”

A wave of terror washes over you. “No,” you breathe. “No, this can’t be happening.”

Your eyes lock with Lando’s, silently pleading. For a moment, you see the conflict raging behind his eyes. But then his expression hardens, and he looks away.

As the guards begin herding your family towards the stairs, you manage to maneuver closer to Lando. “How could you be part of this?” You hiss under your breath.

His jaw clenches. “The revolution demands sacrifices,” he mutters. “Even from those we ... care about.”

“Care about?” You repeat incredulously. “Is that all I am to you now? After everything we’ve shared?”

A flicker of pain crosses his face. “You know it’s more complicated than that. Your family’s rule has caused immeasurable suffering. This ... this is justice.”

“Murder is not justice,” you retort, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.

Before he can respond, you’re roughly pushed forward. The journey to the basement is a blur of terror and disbelief. Your mind races, desperately seeking a way out of this nightmare.

In the dank cellar, Yurovsky instructs your family to line up against the wall. You find yourself between your younger siblings, instinctively trying to shield them even as your own knees threaten to give out.

“Wait,” you cry out as Yurovsky raises his hand to signal the firing squad. “Please, spare the children at least. They’re innocent in all this!”

Yurovsky’s face remains impassive. “There can be no Romanov heirs left to rally around. The old regime must end here and now.”

You turn to Lando, making one last desperate appeal. “Lando, please. If what we had meant anything to you, don’t let this happen. Help us!”

For a moment, you see the Lando you knew — the passionate young man who spoke of creating a better world, who held you under the stars and whispered promises of a future together. But then the revolutionary mask slips back into place.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely audible. “But this is bigger than us.”

As the soldiers raise their weapons, time seems to slow. You think of all the lives you might have lived — the futures now forever lost to you. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you, as if you’ve faced death with Lando before.

“Ready!” Yurovsky’s voice cuts through your reverie.

You straighten your spine, determined to face your end with dignity. Your eyes find Lando’s one last time.

“Aim!”

“I forgive you,” you mouth silently, even as tears stream down your face.

You see Lando’s composure crack, anguish flooding his features. He takes a half-step forward, as if to intervene, but it’s too late.

“Fire!”

The basement erupts in a deafening cacophony of gunshots and screams. You feel a searing pain in your chest as bullets tear through you. As you crumple to the ground, your fading vision fixates on Lando’s horrified face.

With your last breath, you whisper, “Find me again.”

Then darkness claims you.

Lando stands frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from your lifeless form. The smokey smell of gunpowder mixes with the metallic scent of blood, turning his stomach.

“Finish them off,” Yurovsky orders dispassionately. “No survivors.”

As his comrades move forward with bayonets, Lando stumbles back, retching. He staggers up the stairs and out into the cool night air, gulping it down desperately.

What has he done?

He’d believed so fervently in the revolution, in the need to sweep away the old order to build a better world. But staring at his blood-stained hands, Lando feels nothing but horror and soul-crushing guilt.

Your final words haunt him. “Find me again.” But how can he, when he’s destroyed any chance of a future together?

As dawn breaks over Yekaterinburg, Lando makes a decision. He can’t undo what’s been done, but he can ensure the truth isn’t buried along with your body.

Over the coming weeks, as the Bolsheviks spread lies about your family’s fate, Lando works in secret to document what really happened. He gathers evidence, writes detailed accounts, and arranges for the information to be smuggled out of the country.

It’s a dangerous game. If caught, he’ll be branded a traitor to the revolution. But Lando no longer cares about ideology or politics. His only goal is to honor your memory and ensure that history remembers the truth.

Late one night, as he prepares to flee the country with his damning documents, Lando allows himself a moment of quiet reflection. He thinks of your smile, your compassion, the way you challenged him to see beyond his rigid beliefs.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to the empty room. “I failed you in this life. But I swear, somehow, I’ll make it right. If there’s any justice in the universe, we’ll meet again. And next time, I’ll protect you. I’ll choose you over everything else.”

As he slips out into the night, Lando feels a strange sense of certainty. This isn’t the end of your story. Somehow, someway, you’ll find each other again.

The wheel of fate continues to turn, carrying your intertwined souls towards yet another lifetime. But with each cycle, the bond between you grows stronger. Perhaps next time, you’ll finally break free of this tragic pattern and find the happiness that’s eluded you for so long.

Jonestown, 1978

The humid Guyanese air hangs heavy over Jonestown, thick with tension and the cloying scent of tropical flowers. You stand among the gathered crowd, your heart pounding so hard you fear it might burst from your chest. Beside you, Lando’s hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.

“This isn’t right,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the droning speech coming from the pavilion. “We need to get out of here.”

You nod imperceptibly, not daring to speak. Jim Jones’ paranoid ravings have reached a fever pitch in recent days, and you both know that even the slightest hint of dissent could be deadly.

“My children,” Jones’ voice booms out over the loudspeakers, “the time has come for us to make our final stand against the oppressors who seek to destroy our paradise.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd. You scan the sea of faces, seeing a mix of blind devotion and barely concealed terror.

“Our Congressional visitors have betrayed us,” Jones continues, his words slurring slightly. “They will bring nothing but destruction. We have no choice but to enact our glorious revolutionary suicide.”

Your blood runs cold. You’d heard whispers of this plan, but had desperately hoped it was just another of Jones’ manipulative tactics.

“Lando,” you whisper urgently, “we have to run. Now.”

He nods, his face pale but determined. “Follow my lead. When I give the signal, we make a break for the jungle.”

But before you can move, you feel a vice-like grip on your arm. You turn to see your mother, her eyes wild with fervor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She hisses. “This is our moment of triumph. You will not ruin it with your lack of faith.”

On Lando’s other side, his father has a similar hold on him. The older man’s face is a mask of grim resignation. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, son,” he says quietly.

You watch in horror as Jones’ lieutenants begin distributing paper cups filled with a sinister purple liquid. The bitter almond smell of cyanide fills the air.

“No,” you breathe, struggling against your mother’s grip. “Mom, please. This is insanity. We don’t have to do this!”

But your pleas fall on deaf ears. Your mother’s grip only tightens as she accepts two cups from a passing aide.

“Drink,” she commands, thrusting one towards you.

You shake your head vehemently, clamping your mouth shut. Beside you, Lando is engaged in a similar struggle with his father.

“You can’t force us to do this!” Lando shouts, drawing the attention of nearby cult members. “This is murder!”

Jones’ voice cuts through the growing commotion. “Those who resist are traitors to our cause. They must be made to comply, for the good of all.”

Suddenly, you’re surrounded by a group of Jones’ most fanatical followers. Rough hands grab you, forcing your head back. You struggle wildly, but it’s no use. You feel the cold rim of the cup pressed against your lips.

“No!” Lando cries out, fighting to reach you. “Leave her alone!”

But he too is overwhelmed, multiple hands restraining him as the poisoned drink is forced upon him.

The sickly-sweet liquid burns your throat as it’s poured into your mouth. You choke and splutter, but can’t prevent some of it from going down. Beside you, Lando’s muffled cries tell you he’s suffering the same fate.

As the hands release you, you collapse to your knees, coughing violently. Your vision swims, the world taking on a surreal, nightmarish quality.

“Lando,” you gasp, reaching out blindly.

His hand finds yours, gripping it weakly. “I’m here,” he manages, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”

You crawl closer, fighting against the growing weakness in your limbs. All around, people are collapsing, some screaming in agony while others slip away in eerie silence.

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, cupping Lando’s face with a trembling hand. “We never stood a chance against this madness.”

Lando’s eyes, clouded with pain, meet yours. “This can’t be how it ends,” he says desperately. “Not again.”

A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. “Again?” You murmur, confused.

He nods weakly. “I don’t know how, but I feel like we’ve been here before. Facing death together, unable to stop it.”

As the poison works its way through your system, flashes of other lives flicker through your mind. Ancient Egypt, Pompeii, Salem, Russia — each time, finding each other only to be torn apart.

“I remember,” you breathe, wonder mingling with the pain. “We keep finding each other, but we never get our happy ending.”

Lando pulls you closer, both of you shaking with the effort of fighting off the inevitable. “Next time,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “Next time we’ll break this cycle. We’ll find a way to be together.”

You manage a small, sad smile. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he murmurs, pressing a weak kiss to your forehead.

As consciousness begins to slip away, you cling to each other. The sounds of screaming and Jones’ maniacal laughter fade into the background. In these final moments, there is only you and Lando, and the love that has somehow endured across lifetimes.

“Find me again,” you whisper, echoing words spoken in another life.

Lando’s grip on your hand tightens fractionally. “Always,” he breathes.

As darkness closes in, you’re filled with a strange sense of hope. This tragic cycle can’t go on forever. Someday, somehow, you’ll find a way to break free and finally have the life together you’ve been denied so many times.

Your last thought, as you slip away, is a prayer to whatever cosmic force keeps bringing you together.

Next time, let it be different.

Next time, let us live.

And as your souls depart this tragic scene, unseen wheels of fate begin to turn once more. The cycle continues, but perhaps this time, with the weight of so many shared lifetimes behind you, you’ll finally find your way to a happier ending.

In the years that follow, as the horror of Jonestown is revealed to the world, two names are lost among the hundreds of victims. But your story — the story of a love that refuses to be extinguished — lives on, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.

Monaco, 2024

The soft glow of computer screens illuminates Lando’s face as he leans into his microphone, his eyes darting between the chat and his game. “No, chat, I’m not going to sing the Baby Shark song,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You lot are absolutely mental, you know that?”

The door to his streaming room creaks open, and he glances over, his face softening into a warm smile as you pad in, wrapped in an oversized hoodie you’ve stolen from his wardrobe.

“Speaking of sharks,” Lando grins, addressing his audience, “look who’s decided to join us. It’s my favorite cuddly shark!”

You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, a reference to your habit of playfully nipping at his shoulder when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. As you approach, Lando pushes his chair back slightly, making room for you to settle onto his lap.

“Come here, you,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist as you curl into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. To his stream, he explains, “Sorry chat, the missus is feeling a bit clingy tonight. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

You mumble something unintelligible into his skin, making him laugh. “What was that, love? The stream can’t hear you when you’re trying to become one with my neck.”

Lifting your head slightly, you repeat, “I said, don’t let me interrupt your gaming. I just wanted cuddles.”

Lando presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re never an interruption. Besides, I think the chat’s been asking for a cameo from you all night.”

You turn to face the camera, waving sleepily. “Hi, chat. Sorry I’m not more entertaining tonight. Long day at work.”

The chat explodes with greetings and well-wishes, scrolling by almost too fast to read. Lando chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze. “See? They love you. Probably more than they love me, to be honest.”

“That’s fair,” you murmur, nuzzling back into his neck. “No one loves you more than I do.”

Lando’s breath catches for a moment, and you feel his heart rate pick up. Even after all this time together, simple declarations of love still affect him deeply. It’s one of the many things you adore about him.

“Alright, chat,” Lando says, his voice a touch huskier than before. “You’ve gone and made her all sappy. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.”

You can’t help but giggle at his attempt to deflect. “Oh please, you love it when I’m sappy.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with a grin. “But if I admit that, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”

You snort inelegantly. “What reputation? Everyone knows you’re a big softie.”

“Oi!” Lando protests, poking you in the side and making you squirm. “I’ll have you know I’m very tough and manly. Right, chat?”

The stream erupts with a mix of agreement and playful disagreement, peppered with emotes and inside jokes. You watch the scrolling text with amusement, marveling at the community Lando has built.

“See?” Lando says triumphantly. “They agree with me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure at least half of those messages were sarcastic, babe.”

Lando waves a hand dismissively. “Details, details. The point is, I’m incredibly macho and not at all a softie.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. “Is that why you cried watching Up last week?”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims, his cheeks flushing slightly. “That’s classified information, that is. You can’t just go revealing my secrets to the entire internet!”

The chat goes wild at this revelation, demanding to know more about Lando’s movie-watching habits. You can’t help but laugh at his mock-outraged expression.

“Sorry, love,” you say, not sounding sorry at all. “But if I have to put up with your sniffling during Disney movies, the least I can do is share the joy with your fans.”

Lando groans dramatically. “That’s it, I’m filing for divorce. Chat, you’re my witnesses. This is grounds for divorce, right? Revealing a man’s most intimate vulnerabilities?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “We’re not even married yet, you goof.”

The words slip out before you can think better of them, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifts. Lando’s eyes widen slightly, his gaze locking with yours.

“Yet?” He repeats softly, a note of wonder in his voice.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don’t look away. “Well, yeah. I mean, unless you had other plans?”

For a moment, Lando seems to forget entirely about the stream. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. “No other plans,” he murmurs. “Just you. Always you.”

The intimacy of the moment is broken by the chat exploding once again, this time with a flurry of ring emotes and excited keysmashes. Lando blinks, seeming to remember where he is.

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, chat, I think that’s my cue to end the stream for tonight. Got some, uh, important things to discuss with this one.”

You bury your face in his neck again, half embarrassed and half thrilled by the turn of events. As Lando rushes through his usual sign-off, you can feel the barely contained energy thrumming through him.

The moment the stream ends, Lando spins his chair to face you fully, his eyes bright with excitement. “Did you mean that?” He asks eagerly. “About the marriage thing?”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course I did. Lando, I’ve loved you for lifetimes. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you.”

Something flashes in his eyes at your words — a fleeting moment of recognition, as if some long-buried memory is struggling to surface. But then it’s gone, replaced by pure joy.

“Lifetimes, huh?” He grins, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I suppose we better make this one count.”

As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of rightness. After so many tragic endings, you’ve finally found your happily ever after. And this time, you’re not letting go.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips. “In this life and every other.”

Lando’s answering smile is radiant. “And I love you. Always have, always will.”

As you lose yourselves in each other’s embrace, the echoes of past lives fade away. This is your time, your chance at happiness. And you plan to make the most of every single moment.

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mostly-imagines · 6 months ago

Text

Who Needs Heaven? : The Drop-In

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason meets his daughters

warnings: it’s not specific if the kids are bio or adopted — this probably doesn’t make sense on multiple fronts but i DON’T CARE

see for: the vibes

(2) safe & sound

His body jolts like he’s snapping out of sleep. The first thing he processes is loud conversations echoing, the sound of young girls talking over each other. He surveys over a book in his hands that he’s never heard of, though it’s opened more than halfway through and considerably worn. He drops the book to the side, coming to a stand and scanning over the environment.

He looks around the adorned living room, taking in details rapidly. He doesn’t recognize the house he’s in but he can tell it’s somewhere he definitely does not belong. The room is filled with books on shelves and picture frames are littered in every free spot in between. The lights are warm and the furniture is colorful with pillows and blankets strewn all over. It’s a stark contrast to the refined stoic Manor he’s so used to; there’s a distinct feeling of homeliness and warmth that seeps through the walls.

He creeps into the front entryway to the house as quietly as he can, peering up the staircase to the landing above for any signs of familiarity or danger. From his right, a girl comes darting into the space, running face first into Jason. He immediately reaches out to steady her but she shows no sign of disruption. She makes a point of holding the wrapped popsicle in her hand away, keeping it safe. She blinks up at him before taking off past him, calling out, “Sorry, dad!”

Dad?

“Anna, I swear to God—” Another girl of similar age runs past, paying him no mind.

He gapes after her, thoroughly confused. Where the hell is he?

“Daddy?” He turns around and looks down to a younger girl who looks about six at most. She stares up at him with wide eyes and freckled cheeks. “Are you okay?”

He can’t think.

This isn’t…this can’t be real. It can’t be. This is a dream. He got knocked out. He’s hallucinating. He’s dying.

He tries to keep his breath steady as this little girl peers up at him with curious eyes. “Daddy?”

He opens his mouth, struggling to find words, let alone get them out. “Where…where’s your mom?” He can barely make out his own voice.

“She’s in your room,” she tells him, looking up the stairs.

He treds up the stairs slowly, the chatter downstairs barely getting any quieter. The second floor seems deserted in terms of the presence of children. If, if this were real (or more likely, a dream) you’ll be here somewhere. There’s no scenario where he’d ever imagine a life in a big house with a big family without you—subconsciously or otherwise.

Several doors line the wide hallway, most of them open. He peers in the room closest to the top of the staircase, finding a heartily decorated bedroom with two twin beds. Polaroids and movie posters litter the walls and clothes are strewn across on top of the bed covers and in a few small piles on the floor. An orange lava lamp illuminates the room from a desk, shining off the glossy cover of magazines. Above, sports medals dangle off the wall against a white board, a scribbled on game of hangman midway through. A full-length mirror covered in stickers along the edges reflects a bookshelf across the room, dozens of books stuffed on each shelf. He blinks vacantly, pulling back from the doorway and continuing on.

He continues on down the right side of the hallway, passing up a bathroom and a closet before peering into the next room. It also has two beds, but it’s filled with remnants of young children. A small table with a tea set laid out on top sits in the middle of the room with various princess dresses draped across the short chairs. Pink bed sheets and butterfly-filled curtains joined by toy cars lined against the wall and strings of pink starry lights hanging from the ceiling. Both beds have stuffed animals arranged in thoughtful piles. It takes Jason a moment to notice the tattered, worn elephant with the green polka dot tie on the bed with the Cinderella comforter. Pickles. It was his when he was a kid. It’s placed delicately at the top of the pile, like he’s the king of the crop. A grand dollhouse sticks out against one of the walls, the dolls all lying asleep in their makeshift beds. Fluffy bubblegum and fuschia rugs scatter the floor just enough that you could jump across the room without ever touching the hardwood.

He turns to the last room, a door directly across that’s just cracked open. He can hear light music coming from inside and the almost inaudible shuffle of movement. He pushes the door open cautiously and takes in the sight of a woman, back to the door, folding laundry on the bed. He doesn’t even need to see your whole figure to know that it’s you.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds like he’s out of breath.

“Yeah?” You turn around with your same kind eyes and gentle disposition. You look older, not much older but your face is more mature. You even hold yourself a little differently. You quickly notice the way he scans you with a look of bewilderment on his face and jump into concern. “What’s wrong?” You drop the shirt that you’re folding on the bed, approaching him with soft steps. Everything feels fuzzy.

“This—this is…” His voice seems far away, this body feels further. “This isn’t real…”

“What? Jay, what are you talking about?” You’re so genuinely concerned about him it makes his heart hurt and does nothing to help clear his head.

His breathing starts to stutter and his eyes can’t pick something to focus on. Everything is telling him that this is a false sense of security, he’s not safe, you’re not safe, everything’s wrong—

“Woah, hey, hey. It’s okay.” You take his face in your hands the way you know tends to ground him. “Catch me up.”

He tries to focus on the sliding clasp of the necklace around your neck. “I…I think this is…” He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up only to wake up in a few seconds and find that it was all pretend. Instead, he’ll settle for, “...This hasn’t happened…”

You frown at that, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

He breathes out heavy, “I think I’m dreaming.”

“What are you dreaming of?” You walk along this train of thought with him, though he has no idea why you would entertain it. This really must be pretend.

“The future…this is…is this the future?” He’s whispering, he’s not even sure if he’s asking you or himself or maybe even God.

You’re quiet for a minute before you speak again. “Oh,” you say contemplatively, not nearly as alarmed as you should be. You should probably be calling him crazy, right? “This is—you told me about this. Yeah, it had something to do with that clock guy—”

He blinks a few times, “The Clock King?” That does sound…familiar. Was he—he was with Bruce wasn’t he? Or maybe Dick. Both?

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. You said you ‘time traveled’ for a minute...but that was in, like…”

He fills in the blank with the year as he remembers it and your eyes go wide. “Well, this would be a bit of a surprise then.”

“We have kids?”

You laugh, brushing his hair back gently, “Yes. Yes, we definitely do. Five girls.”

“Five?” He breathes.

“Yeah. Wasn’t the plan but…” you shrug easily, “Here we are.”

He barely stops his next question from coming out of his mouth and replaces it. “Is this something I should be hearing?”

“What?” You tilt your head for a second before realization flashes across your face. “Oh, you don’t end up remembering any of this.” You shrug, mouth scrunched up to the side, “So why not?”

He does really want to hear about them. “Please.” He whispers faintly.

You nod reposefully, “Okay, well…” you pause, eyes on the ceiling. “Oh, wait.” You dart over to the bookshelf against the wall and pull a book from the second shelf from the top, a large pink photo album.

You shuffle back, guiding him to the bed and sitting thigh to thigh with him and placing the album on your laps. You flip it open to the first page, which displays an array of photos of who must be his daughter.

“This is Mia—Miriam—she’s the oldest. She’s thirteen now, she’s very smart and a sort of a perfectionist. Really a perfectionist.” A couple of her baby pictures were taken in your apartment and it makes his heart absolutely melt to see you as he left you, holding a baby—his baby—with a glowing smile on your face. There’s another photo of her, kindergarten aged, dressed up as Spoiler for halloween. One shows her on a bike with shimmery handlebar streams, Jason holding her steady as she learns. He’s wearing the brightest smile he’s ever seen on his own face.

“Then there’s the twins,” you continue, flipping to the next page. You laugh when his breath hitches at that. “I know. It’s not as scary as it sounds. Well, not now that they’re older. Ryan and Anna.” You point to them as you say their names, and he recognizes them quickly as the two girls that had run past the stairs. The twins look identical, the only discernible difference found in that Ryan is grinning in every picture with a glint in her eyes and Anna nearly always has a stoic look on her face.

“Ryan is her father’s daughter. She thinks she’s very clever and even more funny, and she is but don’t tell her that, it goes straight to her head.”

There’s a picture that has to be a couple of years old by now of the two of them dressed in what looks like brand new soccer gear. Another depicts one of them chasing Tim with a firework sparkler at dusk. He sees one of Ryan covered in dirt and tiny cuts, smiling big, helmet crooked on her head.

“Anna’s a happy kid, she is. Don’t let her attitude trick you—she just likes to keep her feelings to herself.” Anna’s pictures remind him of Damian in some ways. The very intentional lack of a smile but the happiness still seeps through anyways. One of her pictures has her cuddling with two rottweiler puppies in classic Damian style. Another one shows her a bit older, on Jason’s shoulders, surveying the land.

You turn to the next page, “And Laine, uh, Elaine,” you smile, “She’s a bit eccentric. She lives in her own world but she’ll bring you into it with her. She likes magic and glitter and offbeat things.” Laine’s pictures leave a particular warmth in his heart. She has the absolute widest smile and the brightest eyes he’s ever seen. One photo shows her having a picnic with several stuffed animals, another has her drawing a rainbow with sidewalk chalk. One picture towards the bottom of the page grabs his eye, one of Laine happily braiding Cass’ short hair at what appears to be the Manor.

“And then the little one is Aurora—Rory,” You turn to a page full of pictures of the wide-eyed girl, who has the sweetest baby face. He can tell from the pictures alone that she has your personality. You point to a picture of her giggling with bubbles all in her hair as you explain, “She’s still small but she has a big heart and a very sensitive soul already.” Jason’s practically staring a hole in the picture of Rory as a newborn in the hospital, held delicately by Bruce.

You play with the hair at the nape of his neck as he processes quietly, letting him take his time.

“They’re happy?” He asks in a whisper.

“We’re happy.” You say affirmingly. He looks you in the eyes and you see a specific vulnerability in his that you haven’t seen in a long time. “You are a good dad, Jay.”

He’s still surprised that you can read him like a book, even though at this point you’d have been together for at least fifteen-some years. His eyes burn and he’s not sure he can keep it together. But you dig the knife in all the same, “They love you. A lot. We couldn’t live without you.”

You flip through until you find a page later in the book, plopping it back open fully. The first picture he takes note of shows him outside with picked flowers scattered in his hair wherever they’ll stay put, Laine and Rory trying to straighten them out. Another is of Anna hesitantly feeding a horse an apple, Jason crouched next to her, reassuring her. On the other page, Rory is mid-air being thrown into an absolutely massive leaf pile, glee adorning her face. He turns the page to find one of the girls with a red hoodie pulled over her head and a makeshift mask made from a red plastic plate with holes cut out for the eyes. One has Mia resting against his back, passed out, as he helps Ryan tie off a friendship bracelet on her wrist.

This isn’t—he doesn’t deserve this. This can’t be true, this is more than a happy ending and he’d never even expected you to love him this long, let alone give him the world and then some. He stares at the page for a while, trying to burn every detail into his head.

You tear your gaze away from his face to glance at the clock on the side table, muttering, “Oh shit. Hang on.”

His eyes follow you as you stand from the bed and walk across the room to the door, cracking it open a few inches before shouting out, “Bed!”

There’s a brief delay before a clamor starts towards them, all five girls thumping up the stairs.

You turn back to him, heedfully, “You can stay in here if you want. They’re a little…a lot.” You say tentatively. Well, if there’s anything he’s accustomed to it’s big families with bigger personalities.

Jason lingers behind you as you enter the hallway, looking like a little kid in an unfamiliar place. Whatever conversations were going on downstairs have simply moved location, no urgency present whatsoever to continue on with the progression of the night. You’re trying to verbally corral them towards their respective bedrooms, but it’s a tough job with two clear headed parents on a good day.

He stands frozen in the midst of the clutter of them as they rattle off to you and to each other. He’s scared to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. He doesn’t want to upset or alarm them. But because he is their father, they don’t need him to do anything strange to realize that he’s being strange.

Ryan squints up at him, “What’s wrong with you?”

The question grabs Laine’s attention and she looks to you with wide eyes, “What’s wrong with Dad?”

You shake your head, “Nothing’s—”

“He’s not having a stroke already, is he?” Anna faints, no alarm in her words. Mia thumps the back of her head for that with no returning acknowledgement given by Anna.

Ryan is looking at him like she’s sizing him up. Something you did not get a chance to tell him about Ryan is that she can smell blood in the water like a shark. So it’s not surprising to you that she picks up on Jason’s disoriented state.

“Father?” She calls out sweetly.

You sigh, “Ryan—”

“No, it’s okay. I want to ask dad specifically.” She turns him away from you with a smile. She doesn’t know what’s going on and she doesn’t need to. She’s an opportunist like that. “Could I have the last popsicle?”

Anna cuts in harshly, “You better n—”

“Hey Annie, few notes for ya,” Ryan says with widened eyes and a pointed finger, “One, you shouldn’t interrupt your father, it’s disrespectful,” Anna’s face contorts at that, and she’s about to bite back but she’s cut off quickly by Ryan’s dedication to dishing out her hypocritical sermon. “Two, you shouldn’t interrupt me because it’s potentially the single greatest sin you’ll ever—”

Alright, you gave her a chance to turn it around, she’s done now. “No, you’re all going to bed now and if you’re lucky that popsicle is still there when you get home from school tomorrow.” You tell Ryan with a pointed look. She gives you a half-hearted glare, absolutely nothing compared to her real one.

“Mom, you said—” Mia throws her hands up as she recounts a promise that you may or may not have given her, it’s anyone’s guess.

Then Anna starts up, “That’s not fair, I called—”

Rory pipes up from behind you. “We’re supposed to read our story first.”

You inhale sharply, turning to face her, “Oh—” you crouch down to her level, holding her waist. “How about I read it tonight, Rory?”

She frowns, “Daddy always reads it.”

Ryan taps on Jason’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “Dad, listen,” she says lowly, like she’s trying to get him in on the deal of the century. “Anna doesn’t deserve it, she’s rooting for you to stroke out—”

You frown at Rory with repentance, “I know sweetheart, but—”

Laine looks quite contemplative as she announces, “It’s unholy to break tradition.”

You scrunch up your face and swivel your head to her, “What?”

This declaration does enough to break Ryan away from her scheme. She turns to her and says flatly, “You haven’t said anything that makes sense in like two weeks.”

Jason’s mind is going a mile a minute, trying to process the fifteen things that are going on all at once and take in the fact that these are his children. His daughters and they’re so loud and opinionated and bold and he loves it. He thinks this is the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. Hell, he’d take this over heaven a million times over.

“Mom. Mom!” Mia urges, “Can you help me?”

Your head stutters between your daughters, “I—yeah. Rory, just—”

“I can do it.” He says quietly.

“Yeah?” You look up at him, hopefully, genuinely delighted that he wants to jump into this mess without the twelve years of prep that you’re dependent on.

“Yeah.” He nods, determined and you and Rory smile up at him. Mia all but yanks you up from the floor, pulling you to her room and you can just barely make out Ryan’s hushed murmur of, “I’m getting the popsicle…”

Rory takes Jason’s hand, drowning her own in his. She leads him to the pink bedroom with all the toys, and climbs onto the unicorn bed, shoving all but a few of the stuffed animals onto the floor. Elaine follows close behind and does the same with her own bed, though the only one she keeps is Pickles.

He stands next to the bed a bit awkwardly as she pulls a book off the table next to her, the length of the book easily taking up half her arms. It takes her looking up at him expectantly for him to get the hint, shuffling to squeeze in next to her on the small bed.

She hands him the book and he regards it with a smile. Little Women. He pauses as he starts to open it, “Where, um…where did we leave off?”

She looks at him funny, smiling like he’s messing with her. She flips the book open a little more than halfway through and stops on chapter fifteen. She presses her pointer finger down to the start of the chapter with a thump. “Right here.”

Jason takes a steadying breath and begins reading in the same soft voice he reads to you in, and it seems to appease both girls. He’s not processing what he’s saying as he sits there with his littlest daughter tucked into his side and hanging on to every last word. He can feel her breathing in and out softly and it all feels so surreal now.

““I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own." As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.” Rory giggles as Laine gasps, and Jason can feel the rhythm of his heart fluttering in a new way.

He reads to the end of the chapter and returns the book to its place on the side table, and reluctantly pulls away from Rory, standing up again. He tucks her nicely, if not inexperienced, into the sheets and kisses her forehead. She immediately holds out her toy bear, silently requesting the same treatment for him. Jason kisses the bear too, happily. He does the same for Laine, taking particular note of the way she hugs Pickles to her chest tightly.

He starts towards the door, but is quickly put to a halt. “Wait,” Laine calls out. He turns back to her wide-eyed, terrified he did something wrong. “The lights,” she says, looking up to the ceiling at the dangling stars. Oh, right. She watches him skeptically as he innocently looks around for the switch, and Rory tilts her head at him, not sure what he’s playing at.

“It’s right there,” Rory points with a mildly sullen look to where the mechanism dangles near the outlet. Jason quickly flicks the lights on, the soft orange-pink glow of stars illuminating against the walls. Rory’s pleased enough and adjusts to get more comfortable in her bed.

Laine however, hisses out a, “Hey,” gesturing him towards her. He sidesteps the tea table and comes around to her side of the room, kneeling down by her bed attentively. She glances over at Rory before asking in a hushed voice, “Are you an alien?”

That, he wasn’t expecting. “...What?”

She shakes her head reassuringly, “It’s okay, I won’t tell. But um…I would like my dad back eventually please. If that’s okay.”

His breath stutters and he forces out an, “O—okay.”

She holds out her pinky and it takes him a second to register what she’s asking. He wordlessly pinky promises her and she smiles big, pleased with the agreement.

He stands again, feeling light headed as he heads for the door.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Rory murmurs against the pillow, watching him leave.

His gaze flickers back and forth from them to make sure they like having the door closed, Rory watches him bemusedly and Laine nods at him slyly with a twinkle in her eyes. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight,” He exhales, not as loud as he meant to. He clicks the door shut softly and there’s a warmth in his chest that he could get addicted to.

He wanders down the hall towards the sound of your voice, passing Anna and Ryan climbing under their covers and murmuring something to each other, half eaten popsicle in the ladders hand. He passes the staircase, peering his head into the next room over. His eyes immediately land on you and Mia stood in front of an armoire, shuffling through clothes having an exchange of considerative words.

Mia’s room is very neat and put together, everything is placed with much more intention than in the other girls rooms. Her room has more mellow colors too, largely white with soft shades of pastels throughout. There’s a desk with organized notebooks and multiple vases of flowers, with bundles of yarn placed nicely in a basket in the corner. A tall bookshelf is filled with fifty-some books with a violin case leaning up against it. Nail polishes rest beside a jewelry box on the side table next to her bed. She also has picture frames across the walls, some containing photos of flora, others of the family, and a few of what appears to be her own sketches.

“—worried it’s too showy, you know?”

You hum, “I don’t think so, I mean, not for picture day.”

Mia turns to Jason, shirt held up against her body. “What do you think?”

He takes a second to bounce back from the surprise of being asked the question, “I, uh…I like it.”

You smile at him as Mia faces you again, “Okay, so this with that flowy lilac skirt?”

“The lilac…yeah, that would be cute.”

She nods pleased, draping the shirt over the back of the armchair in the corner.

You and Jason head out of the room, closing the door on your way out so she can change into her pajamas.

“Goodnight!” she calls out through the crack in the door. You and Jason return it in sync, clicking the door closed. You hold his hand as you walk past the twins' open door, giving them the same sentiment with Jason’s own following quickly after. They call it out back, louder than necessary, and you close your bedroom door behind the two of you.

You rest against the door and he leans his head back against the wall next to you, glancing over at you. “I won’t remember any of this?” He seems dejected at the idea, not happy to have been handed the world and then having it swiped from his memory immediately after.

You consider it for a second, shaking your head, “I don’t think so.”

He’s quiet for a bit, thinking. “Do you have a marker?”

“A marker?” You look around casually, “Uh, yeah.” You unclip a sharpie from the mini calendar pinned against the wall, tossing it to him. You watch curiously as he holds his forearm out in front of him, popping the lid off with his mouth.

The light in the room starts to dim dramatically until his vision is completely dark. The pull of gravity on his body feels wrong and a pang of fire shoots against the side of his head.

“Hood.” He hears in the darkness, “Hood.” The commanding voice startles him awake once again. “Are you alright?”

He blinks up at Batman blearily, feeling like he’s just gotten hit over the head with a chair. “What…what—”

“The Clock King. He threw some sort of device at you. It knocked you out for a few minutes. Are you alright?”

He feels dizzy. “Uh…yeah.”

He cranes his head to glance over at where the Clock King is hunched over on the ground, handcuffed, inspecting the cartridge of his device closely. “Damn it, I knew it wasn’t right. Meant to knock him into the past.” He tells Nightwing like it’s some common mistake they can bond over.

Nightwing moues at him, “I don’t care?”

Knock him into the—did he go to the future? He can’t get his thoughts in order, let alone summon memories from the future. Frankly, it doesn’t matter that much to him right now—he’s sore and wants to just fall asleep next to you.

He sits up slowly, grimacing as the pain in his head sharpens for a moment. Batman clasps his hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. “Can you stand?”

Hood grunts and pushes himself up, anchoring his weight against the ground. “Fuck. I’m going home.”

Batman says nothing to protest, instead joining Nightwing and pulling The Clock King up from the ground. Jason stumbles away towards his bike, thankful that he’s only a couple miles away from your apartment. Jesus, the future? You’re not going to believe that shit.

He climbs onto the bike with a groan, pushing up his sleeves as he prepares to start the bike. He doesn’t notice it until he revs it, but when he looks down at his left arm, he sees scribbled on his arm in sharpie:

WE’RE HAPPY

vote: do you have a favorite daughter?

❤️ REBLOGGING = SUPPORTING ❤️

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lizzieolseniskinda · 2 months ago

Text

TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 3

SDE MASTERLIST - x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?

WORD COUNT: 4677

GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)

CONTENT WARNING: soulmate (soulbound) & time travel au, english is not my first language, i took names of professor in harry's time (it's easier that way)

You were walking through the Hogwarts courtyard, bundled up in your robes as the wind carried a hint of the colder months that were coming. The sun filtered through the canopy of orange and red; it was a cold day without the sun. As you approached the Gryffindor common room after breakfast, you spotted Lucas—tall, with his messy black curls and easygoing grin—leaning casually against the wall.

“There you are!” he called out, pushing off the wall and strolling over to you. “I’ve been looking for you. Fancy coming with me to Hogsmeade? I’ve got some things to pick up, and I thought you could use a break from all the studying.”

You raised an eyebrow, interested. “And by ‘things,’ you mean what exactly?”

“Important stuff!” Lucas replied with mock seriousness. “Like sweets from Honeydukes and a new quill, since I keep losing mine. And, of course, we have to stop at Zonko’s - can’t leave without some supplies for our next prank on Maeve.”

You let out a laugh, feeling the tension of the past few years slip away. You figured you could use a shopping day - it was a Saturday after all; you could just study after. “Sounds like a plan, though I’m not sure if Maeve would be happy with another one of your ‘masterpieces’.”

“She’ll survive. Besides, I’ve got a new idea that’ll totally blow her mind; just wait and see,” Lucas nudged you playfully.

As you made your way down the long, winding path to Hogsmeade, a sleek black cat caught your eye. It seemed to be lingering just out of reach; you’d seen the cat a few times today, always trailing a few paces behind, watching you with its bright, curious green eyes. It had followed you from the common room to the courtyard, through the grounds, and now it was walking behind you and Lucas as though it belonged with the two of you.

“Look at that,” you murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the cat. “It’s been following me this entire day.”

Lucas turned around, narrowing his eyes slightly at the feline. “Huh, that’s a little weird, don’t you think? Cats don’t usually follow people around for no reason.”

You crouched down and extended a hand toward the cat. To your surprise, it didn’t hesitate. The cat padded forward and nuzzled your palm; its fluffy and soft fur was warm, despite the chill in the air. You smiled, scratching it behind the ears.

“I think it likes me,” you said, looking up at Lucas. “Maybe it's a stray. What do you think?”

Lucas crossed his arms and looked at the cat with a suspicious expression. “It's a little too good to be true, don’t you think? A mysterious black cat following you around Hogwarts. You know there are loads of horror stories about witches using cats as spies, right?”

“You're paranoid,” you rolled your eyes at him, but smiled.

“I’m cautious,” Lucas corrected, though there was a small teasing glint in his eyes. “But if you’re set on keeping it, we should make sure it’s not... I don’t know, an Animagus or something. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“You think someone’s been using this little thing to spy on me?”

Lucas shrugged, but he was already pulling out his wand. “Could be, perhaps. There’s a simple charm to check for such things; it won’t hurt the cat - you have my promise.”

You stood up and took a step back, “Okay, but I’m telling you, it’s just a normal cat.”

Lucas raised his wand, pointing it at the cat as he muttered the incantation under his breath. A faint blue light shimmered from the tip of his wand. It surrounded the cat for a moment before fading away.

You both stared at the cat in silence, holding your breath, waiting for whatever was about to happen. But the cat just blinked up at you, then licked its paw nonchalantly.

Lucas let out a breath, “Phew... what do you know? It’s just a regular old cat.”

“Told you,” you smirked, “looks like you’re now stuck with me and my new pet.”

The cat - as if it sensed your affectionate words - let out a soft purr and wound itself around your legs once more. You knelt down and scratched behind its ears again. A bond was already beginning to form. The only problem was the lice and many more things that were scattered across its fur.

"Alright, alright," Lucas said, laughing. "I suppose it shouldn’t be a problem.”

With the cat in tow, you and Lucas continued down the path to Hogsmeade. The bustling village was already alive with students and locals; shops were gleaming with fresh stock and festive decorations for upcoming festivities. As you entered Honeydukes, the warmth of the shop’s interior enveloped you, along with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate.

“So, what’s your go-to sweet?” Lucas asked as he grabbed a basket, eyeing the chocolate frogs with heart eyes.

“Maybe the peppermint toads?” you said with a grin, grabbing a small bag from the shelf. “They’re the perfect balance of sweet and refreshing.”

Lucas pulled a face, “You’re a maniac. It’s all about the fizzing whizzbees.”

Both of you wandered through the aisles, piling your basket high with various candies - sugar quills, licorice wands, jelly slugs. At one point, Lucas tried to sneak a handful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans into your bag, but you caught him just in time.

“You’re not tricking me into eating vomit-flavored beans again!” you narrowed your eyes at him.

Lucas laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I'll save it for someone else.”

After stocking enough sweets to last almost a month, you and Lucas headed to Zonko’s. The shop was just as chaotic as expected, filled with exploding fireworks, laughing gas, and all manner of joke items. Lucas was in his element, darting from one display to the next with an excitement you hadn't seen since your first year at Hogwarts when you'd go shopping with the Weasleys.

It made you wonder if there was a Weasley in this timeline, or a Potter; surely there must—

“I’ve got it,” Lucas broke your trance, holding up a box of nose-biting teacups. “We’ll switch Maeve's regular tea with one of these. Can you imagine the look on her face?”

You shook your head, grinning, “You’re terrible.”

“Hey! You’re the one who agreed to come with me,” he replied, winking. “Makes you an accomplice.”

After spending almost an hour in Zonko’s, you finally dragged Lucas away before he bought the entire store. The two of you made your way back to Hogwarts, the pockets of your robes stuffed with sweets, joke items, and - in your case - also a black cat nestled happily in your arms.

“Already thought of a name?” Lucas asked as you strolled along the path.

You looked down at the cat, who had fallen asleep in your arms, still purring softly. “I’m not so sure yet; maybe something like ‘Shadow’?”

“Shadow,” Lucas mused, “hm, not bad; fits the whole ‘following you everywhere’ thing it’s got going on.”

You laughed, feeling the warmth of the cat’s fur against you. Despite the whirlwind of chaos that had brought you here, there was something so comforting about the small creature that had decided to be your companion.

And as you and Lucas made your way back to the castle, joking and teasing each other, you felt like things were normal, like you were just a regular student at Hogwarts, living in a time untouched by war and dark magic.

You went to sleep that day feeling better already, with the small feline curled up at the end of your bed, purring, its little collar having a little bell that you bought in a shop.

The following morning, you made your way down the main hall, the familiar hum of chatter and clicking of cutlery filling the air. It was officially your second week at Hogwarts, and though you were still getting used to the time period, you started to have a routine.

You reached the Gryffindor table and spotted your friends, already gathering around a platter of toast and eggs; some of them had pancakes. They waved you over and made space as you slipped onto the bench beside them.

“Morning, y/n!” Maeve greeted brightly, pushing a pitcher of pumpkin juice toward you. Her curly hair was a little wild this morning, as if she didn’t care. “Sleep well?”

You poured yourself a glass. “Pretty well, all things considered. I think I’m getting used to these weird ancient beds.”

Alicia snorted, her red hair falling into her eyes as she reached for a stack of pancakes. “Weird ancient beds? Try getting used to the weird ancient ghosts! I had Nearly Headless Nick hovering over my bed last night, telling some kind of story about jousting. I barely slept.”

“Better Nick than Peeves, though. That poltergeist kept chucking ink at me during Charms yesterday,” Maeve giggled, spreading jam on a piece of toast.

You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest that you weren’t expecting. These girls had made everything feel… lighter. The constant worry in the back of your mind lessened. Here, in the morning sunlight with breakfast laid out before you, you almost forgot the real reason why you were here.

“Mm, speaking of Charms,” Maeve said, glancing at her timetable. “We’ve got it again this morning. Think Professor Flitwick will finally let us practice summoning spells?”

“I certainly hope so,” Lilith spoke as quietly as ever, but her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Right? I’ve been dying to try action on something bigger. Imagine being able to summon an entire plate of pastries!” Lucas exclaimed.

“As if we need more reasons for you to get distracted during class, Luca,” Alicia rolled her eyes.

They continued to chatter about the day ahead while you found your gaze wandering around. The students were busy with their own conversations; some were studying, others were yawning over cups of tea, while some were also scribbling down last-minute notes for their morning classes. Everything felt so normal.

When your eyes landed on the Slytherin table, the illusion of normalcy shattered. You’d almost forgotten about him.

Tom Riddle. He was sitting at the center, surrounded by his usual group of admirers. He was composed, elegant even, as he buttered a piece of toast, speaking quietly to a blonde male next to him.

You looked away quickly before his group—or him—could notice you staring. “You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Maeve nudged you with her elbow.

“Everything alright?”

You gave a smile, hoping it didn’t look too strained. “Yeah, just thinking about today.”

“Don’t worry about it too much; it’s only the second week,” Lucas smiled. “Besides, you’re part of the group now. We’re in this together.”

“No backing out,” Lilith added, and for a second, you thought you’d melted.

You smiled, relaxing. You felt it reach your eyes; a sense of belonging wandered around in the back of your mind.

Breakfast continued, and so did the conversation to a more light-hearted topic: Alicia’s and Lilith’s excitement about the next Hogsmeade trip, Lucas’s plans for another elaborate prank on their dorm mate, and Maeve’s ongoing battle with Peeves. You listened, laughed, and chimed in the conversation whenever you could.

Maeve slung her bag over her shoulder and stood up. “Come on, y/n. Let’s see if we can make it to Flitwick’s class before Luca drags us to the kitchens for more pastries.”

“I resent that,” Lucas called over his shoulder, “but I do want more pastries.”

You smiled and grabbed your bag as you followed them out of the Great Hall, trying to savour the last few minutes of peace before the day truly began.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡charms class:

When you arrived at the Charms class, it was buzzing with quiet energy as tired students filed in, quills and textbooks clutched in their hands. You took a seat next to Maeve on your left side. Behind another desk with space in between you two sat another girl—Slytherin.

“Good morning, everyone! Today, we will be practicing summoning charms—Accio!” Professor Flitwick said loudly, standing on a stack of books at the front of the class as he clapped his hands to get the attention of all the students.

An exciting murmur passed through the room. You realized how, in their fifth year, they learn about summoning spells in this timeline, while in Harry’s timeline you learned more defensive spells or memory spells. The difference was huge.

Summoning charms were pretty basic, but growing up in times like you did, you almost had no time getting used to a simple spell like Accio while you could easily Obliviate someone or use the Patronus charm.

“Partner up!” Flitwick instructed. You turned to look at Maeve, who was already grinning at you.

“I’ve been practicing this all week,” Maeve said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Let’s see if I can summon a bigger thing than a quill this time.”

“Alright, but if you summon a desk by accident, you’re responsible,” you teased her, setting your wand on your desk.

Maeve pointed her wand at one of the cushions Flitwick had left for practice. “Accio cushion!” she shouted, her wand slicing through the air.

The cushion zoomed toward her, though it wobbled slightly before landing in her arms. “Not bad, right?”

You clapped lightly. “That was impressive!”

Maeve jokingly gave a little bow to you. “Your turn!”

You focused on a cushion that was lying a few feet away, envisioning it flying smoothly into your hands. After a flick of your wand, you called out,

“Accio cushion!”

The cushion shot toward you with more speed than you expected, hitting you on your chest slightly and knocking you back slightly. You laughed, catching it just in time. Maeve burst into giggles beside you.

“Well, at least it's working,” you said with a grin. Putting the cushion down, you glanced around the room and caught sight of Tom. He was practicing at the far end of the classroom. He performed the spell flawlessly, his cushion gliding into his hands with barely a flick of his wrist. His focus was intense, almost unnerving.

You quickly turned towards Maeve again, not wanting to dwell on him.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡potions class:

The potion classroom in the dungeons was dark and cool; the only source of light was flickering. A mushy and earthy scent of ingredients filled the air as you sat down next to Alicia at one of the tables near the back.

“Right,” Alicia said, pulling out her ingredients. “I’ve got a good feeling about today’s potion. We’re supposed to make something simple, so there’s no way I can accidentally melt my cauldron like last week.”

You snickered. “Simple or not, I still think you have a way to make the easiest potions chaotic.”

Before Alicia could respond, Professor Slughorn’s jovial voice boomed across the room. “Today, my dear students, we will be brewing a calming draught. Quite useful for, uh, stressful situations.” He winked at the class. “-“I’m sure none of you feel stressed, though.”

You could feel the irony of the assignment, given how much stress you were actually under without anyone really knowing. You could probably use a calming draught or two just to get through the day.

Slughorn’s face was surrounded with enthusiasm as he demonstrated the first few steps, his eyes darting over the class with interest. You gathered the ingredients you needed and carefully measured out the valerian root, hellebore syrup, and the fluxweed oil.

“So, you think Slughorn’s going to invite you to one of his little parties?” Alicia asked as she ground some peppermint into powder.

You shrugged, keeping your focus on your cauldron as you stirred it clockwise. “Not very likely. I don’t really know what those parties are even about,” you lied. You went to one meeting with Hermione and decided to never go again. Simply a waste of time.

Alicia raised an eyebrow. “Well, Slughorn kinda ‘collects’ talented students. You’re smart, plus you’re new and kind. So, I’d say you're prime Slug Club material.”

You smiled at her. “We’ll see,” you said quietly. “Plus, I think Riddle is in Slug Club,” Alicia whispered.

You almost spilled the peppermint that you were trying to add into your potion. “Sorry, what?” you gaped at her. She scoffed at you and smiled. “Don’t act dumb; I always see you looking at him.”

Your potion turned to a soft blue—that was a good sign. “What??? No, I don’t…” you mumbled and glanced over at Alicia’s cauldron, which was bubbling a little too vigorously.

“Uh, Alicia... are you sure you didn’t add too much oil?” you asked her, eyeing the bubbles. “You’re not getting out of this conversation, Y/N,”Alicia said while she kept adding oil.

“No, no, I’m serious; look at those bubbles.”

“Oh, oops,” Alicia gasped and quickly turned down the heat under her cauldron. “Well, at least it’s not melting this time.”

You laughed softly, helping her adjust the potion before it boiled over. Potions was always a mix of stress and humor with Alicia. Seems like you're not as slick as you thought you were.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡transfiguration class:

Dumbledore’s class, there was a different energy in the air. The room was spacious and bright; high arched windows were letting beams of sunlight in that illuminated against the desks. Dumbledore was standing at the front. “Today,” Dumbledore began, “we will attempt one of the more advanced transfigurations: turning inanimate objects into animals. Quite the leap from last week’s matchsticks to needles, wouldn’t you say?”

Maeve leaned over to you, whispering, “What if we give a four-legged animal six legs by mistake?”

You snickered quietly.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and a stack of stones appeared on each of the students’ desks. “Your task today is to transform this stone into small creatures of your choosing: a mouse, perhaps, or a bird. Be gentle and focus.”

You pointed your wand at the stone, visualising a small bird. With clear focus, you flicked your wand, saying the incantation softly.

To your surprise, the stone started shifting, wings sprouting from its sides as it transformed into a tiny sparrow. It fluttered its wings in confusion before hopping onto your desk.

“Well, aren’t you just the star pupil,” Maeve teased with a grin. She was still poking at her half-transformed stone, which looked more like a stone with some fur on it.

From the front of the class, Dumbledore’s eyes met yours briefly, and he gave a small approving nod. You continued helping Maeve when you caught a glimpse of Tom Riddle a few rows ahead. His magic was perfect—obviously. The stone in front of him had turned into a sleek, black raven that perched on his desk with eerie calm.

You sighed, forcing yourself to focus more on Maeve and her furry rock. There would be plenty of time to think about Tom later, but the time was ticking, and you knew it

Shadow, the cat that you’d taken in, padded silently beside you as you made your way to the library. You smiled down at him; Shadow had proven to be nothing more than a sweet, lovely companion. The cat had followed you everywhere except for classes.

“You like books, don’t you?” you murmured to the cat as you entered the library, earning a few curious glances from other students. Shadow flicked his tail and trotted ahead of you, his sleek form disappearing between two towering bookshelves.

The library was quiet and warm, even after dinner. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. You loved it in the library; it felt like a sanctuary, a place where time stood still.

Wandering through the shelves, you scanned the spines of the books you passed. Every so often, you’d glance behind you to make sure Shadow was still with you. Reaching a shelf tucked in a quiet corner of the library, you found a book you'd been looking for - The Founder’s Legacy: A History of Hogwarts. It was a book you needed for your Muggle Studies.

You pulled it down and tucked it under your arm, turning to leave the aisle; but when you did, you noticed Shadow was gone. “Shadow?” you called softly, careful not to disturb the other students. The silence of the library seemed to grow louder, your eyes searching for the black fur you had grown accustomed to.

Frowning, you stepped out of the aisle, looking around for any sign of the cat. Only a few students were scattered around the tables, their heads buried in their studies. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him.

At one of the far tables, seated in his usual spot near the back of the library, was Tom Riddle.

With Shadow.

Your breath caught in your throat. The sleek black cat had made himself comfortable on the edge of Tom’s open book, his paws kneading the pages as he purred contentedly. Tom didn’t seem bothered by the interruption. In fact, he was watching the cat with an odd expression - almost as if he was amused, though his features remained calm and composed as always.

For a second, you just stood there, contemplating all your life’s choices. Seeing Shadow so comfortable made your heart race. Tom Riddle, the person you were meant to change, was casually petting the cat you had taken in, and it made your situation feel even more surreal.

But only you couldn't keep standing there forever, staring at Tom Riddle.

So, you summoned up your courage and slowly walked over to the table, forcing yourself to remain calm even though you could feel your chest preparing for a panic attack.

“Looking for this?” His voice was soft but cold as he gestured to the cat with a slight raise of his hand. Shadow meowed happily and stretched out his paws, pushing against Tom's book as if he had claimed it for himself.

Hearing Tom’s voice changed something in you; a warm feeling spread through you.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady, trying to ignore all the feelings you were feeling at once. “I didn’t realise he’d wandered off.”

Tom’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, studying you with the same unsettling intensity you’d noticed in class. Then he looked back at the cat, one hand absently touching behind Shadow’s ear. The cat purred louder, pressing into the touch as though he had always belonged there.

“He seems to like me,” Tom observed. You had to hold back a scoff, so you forced a smile. “He’s a friendly one.”

“I can see.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You cleared your throat and stepped forward, reaching for Shadow. “Well, I should get him out of your way; he’s probably disturbing your reading. Or studying, or whatever…”

Tom didn’t move at first, and for a brief second, you thought he might not let you take back your cat. But then he pulled his hand back. Shadow, oblivious to the tension, stretched lazily before hopping off the table and rubbing against your leg.

You cradled Shadow in your arms as you tried to steady your nerves.

You felt Tom’s gaze linger on you for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to his book, his expression unreadable. “Be careful,” he said, his voice low. “Not everything that follows you is harmless.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. Was that a warning? Or something more? Before you could reply, Tom had already turned the page of his book, his focus shifting away from you as though the conversation had never happened

A chill ran down your spine as you hugged Shadow closer. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you turned around.

Tom’s cryptic words echoed in your thoughts. You were halfway to the library’s entrance when you spotted Lucas striding toward you, hands tucked in his pockets, that ever-present grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He seemed completely at ease, as though the world was just a big joke waiting to be told.

“There you are!” he called out in a low voice, somewhat mindful of the library’s strict silence policy. He walked right up to you, his sharp blue eyes scanning your face before flicking over to the spot where Tom was sitting. “I saw you over there, chatting with Riddle.”

“Yeah... Shadow wandered over to him,” you smiled slightly, still not fully calmed down, but Lucas’s presence helped a bit.

Lucas smiled. “Look, I’m just gonna say it: I’ve seen you stare at him at times, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Whatever he’s said to you—”

“He said something about not everything that follows you is harmless,” you interrupted him, needing to get it off your chest.

“Okay, stop. That’s freakishly creepy,” Lucas gaped, stealing a glance at Tom. “Just... try to ignore him. Riddle’s either got everyone thinking he’s the hottest thing to walk these halls, or they think he’s bloody weird.”

Your curiosity piqued. “And what do you think?”

Lucas paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the question. His grin returned. “Both.”

You chuckled at his bluntness. “Both?”

You walked out of the library, your book long forgotten on the table you were supposed to be studying at. “Yeah, he’s good looking. I mean, objectively speaking,” Lucas said. “But there’s something about him that’s off. Like, he’s too good at... well, everything. It's unnatural; people are drawn to him, but they’re also... I don’t know, scared of him. You know? Even if they don't want to admit it.”

You nodded, thinking back to how Tom had looked at you - the way his eyes seemed to see right through you. There was definitely something unnerving about him. “He’s strange. Almost like he’s always one step ahead of everyone.”

“Exactly,” Lucas agreed. “It’s like he’s playing a game no one else knows the rules to. Trust me, best to keep your distance.”

“I wasn’t planning on making friends with him,” you said, shifting Shadow in your arms. The cat blinked lazily up at you.

“Good, I’ve got enough trouble without having to rescue you from the dark and mysterious Tom Riddle,” Lucas replied, giving you a reassuring smile.

You let out a laugh. “Thanks, Lucas. I’ll be sure to tell you first if I get in over my head.”

Lucas grinned. “I’ll be there, wand at the ready.”

The two of you started to head toward the common room together, the tension that had been knotted in your chest since your encounter with Tom slowly began to ease. Lucas had a way of making things feel lighter, like no matter how complicated the situation got, he’d find a way to make it less scary.

“Anyway,” Lucas said, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked, “enough about Riddle. Did you get what you came for? Or are we heading back in for round two of ‘Tom the Cat Whisperer’?”

You smirked, shaking your head. “No more rounds with him for today, thanks. I think I’ve had my fill of mysterious brooding for the time being. But I do think I might’ve left my book in there.”

Lucas laughed again, his voice carrying through the halls. “We’ll get it first thing tomorrow. And if you do like him, just don’t go falling for that whole dark-and-mysterious thing. I won’t judge you.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Please. You know I prefer my friends a little less brooding and a little more… fun.”

“See? That’s the right attitude.” He gave you a wink, his smile warm and genuine. “Stick with me. I’m way more fun than some dark wizard-in-training.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. As strange and intense as things had become, Lucas was a constant source of light. Maybe, just maybe, he’d help keep you grounded as you navigated the dangerous path ahead.

a/n: posted a bit earlier, but umm, i was thinking of naming the cat crookshanks first - so she has a reminder of hermione, harry and ron. but idk :( alsooooo, i'll probably update on sunday for this serie (loads of homework)

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suguru-getos · 1 year ago

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࿐ husband neuvillette nsfw hcs (f!reader) ࿐

you didn’t know when you got married to the chief justice that he was that good in bed. like? how? where do you get the time? :// honestly — it’s insane. the way he knows your sweet spot as if it’s what he’s been searching for all this time. when the first time you two did it, it got you dizzy and you cried at the overwhelming love & affection he showered you with.

peppering sweet kisses everywhere, your forehead, your cheek, your chin, right below your ears until he reaches your collarbone !! neuvillette loves to nibble onto your supple skin. gently suckling at the sweet spot on your neck until you get used to it, then switching to a harsher suckle, maybe a little teeth. it’s the territorial instinct inside him which gets him hard and turned on the moment he sees you all vulnerable and marked up.

he loves toying with your titties, he’d literally spend a lot of time on them. massaging them, kneading them with his large, powerful hands and marking them his. the way his tongue twirls into your aching bud and makes you gasp for more. yes, he has made you cum with just your titties alone. you didn’t know it was possible until neuvillette decided it is.

neuvillette is a dom inside out. a pleasure dom who gets off to seeing you writhe under him. you’d always be told to moan out. “come now darling, don’t try to hide your moans. i want to know how it makes you feel.” he’d slowly yank your palm off your mouth. “sing for me.” he cooes as he thrusts inside you, watching your eyes roll back in sheer pleasure.

breeding kink 101. i think he uses a lot of words and phrases like, “going to look so cute with your belly carrying our child”, “going to breed my little angel full of me, she can take it right? of course she can. tell me — tell me you want to be bred full of my seed.”

size kink -> it’s always hard for you to fit him inside, he’s especially huge and girthy, veins decorating his thick cock while he lubes your cunt with his pre. he loves when you get a little intimidated by his size until he has to assure you that he’d always take care of you & never hurt you.

despite him not being too harsh most of the time, he still insists on there being safewords. “don’t want this possibility to ever come true, but still, no harm in being prepared darling.” he’s fine if you make up your own safe word or he is happy to follow the traffic light system for ya.

sometimes though? you want him to snap. best method is to make your territorial dragon jealous. there are often events like banquets held in fontaine & as the chief justice; he mostly attends those. it’s more than easy for you to rile him up by being a tad too nice with others 🤷🏻‍♀️ he’d pin you against the wall, the same stern glare that he carries in court now attacking you. “seems like you’re purposely getting on my nerves darling.” he hums, leaning in and inhaling your scent. “going to make sure to take proper measures so this isn’t repeated. you’re going to like that too much won’t you?” oh yes you will —

he doesn’t do punishments, just funishments. you’d have to ask him to partake in those because let’s be real, you can’t possibly expect the man who’s simping for you so hard to think of the possibility of hurting you. you’d have to tell him you like the pain. 😏 impact play, edging, he’d be partaking in all those for his little darling.

he likes to particularly cockwarm you though. it’s the whole power play high of it and the desperation in your eyes which makes it exhilarating for him. “stay still for me yes? i don’t want you to not cum now. just because you’re greedy.” oh you love it when he gets all in control like that.

whenever he decides to spank you, it’s always going to be over the knee. he wants to feel you close, it comforts both you & him. the impact precise and calculated, watching the color of your ass change with a soft smirk. “you love this too much don’t you? ah~ i can see it.” fingers languidly touching your needy, wet pussy as the spanks push you over the edge.

aftercare king and he’s almost apologetic after every harsh scene. “you okay? sure? i want you to know i love you & you did so well for me. i’m so proud of my wife.” words of affirmation king 👑 along with a clingy cuddle bug. 🤭

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin thirst #genshin smut #genshin fluff #genshin comfort #neuvillette #neuvillette smut #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette thirst #neuvillete x f reader #neuvillette imagines #neuvillette hcs #genshin hcs #genshin

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iannmin · 3 months ago

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00:00 — s.mg | 송민기

word count: 0.7k pairing: newlywed mingi x pregnant reader

a/n: wrote this fic because it felt like something mingi would actually do :(((( feel free to leave a comment! love you atinys <3

🤎🩶🤍🤎🩶🤍🤎🩶🤍🤎🩶🤍🤎🩶🤍🤎🩶🤍🤎🩶🤍

୨୧ ‘ masterlist ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

You’re in the kitchen, preparing for Chuseok. The rich, savoury aroma of doenjang jjigae fills the air, mingling with the subtle scent of sesame oil from the side dishes you’re making. The bubbling broth and rhythmic chop of the knife create a soothing backdrop as you work.

As you reach for another piece of tofu, you feel a sudden yet delicate flutter in your belly—a sensation so gentle it almost feels like a dream. Your hand instinctively moves to your stomach, pressing lightly against the fabric of your cardigan. A soft gasp escapes your lips, a mix of surprise and joy. Just then, Mingi’s hurried footsteps approach, and the sliding door to the kitchen opens with a soft thud. He appears in the doorway, concern etched on his face. His eyes quickly find you, and when he sees your hand on your belly, he rushes over, his movements quick but careful, as if afraid to disturb you. “Jagiya, are you okay?” he asks, his voice thick with worry, brows furrowing.

You smile softly, reaching up to straighten his brows. “I’m fine, the baby just kicked, that’s all.” Relief washes over his features, quickly replaced by awe. “The baby… kicked?” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with wonder and disbelief. You nod and guide his hands to rest gently on your belly. His palms are warm and slightly rough from working on his music all day, a comforting contrast to the delicate fluttering within.

Mingi’s hands are tentative at first, his fingers lightly grazing your stomach as if afraid to press too firmly. He bends closer, his breath warm against your skin. Then, with a playful whisper, he murmurs, “Fix on”. Almost immediately, the baby responds with a gentle kick, a soft nudge that makes Mingi’s eyes widen in surprise. His gaze locks on the spot where he felt the movement.

The unexpected response makes you both burst into laughter. You exchange a look of sheer disbelief, the joy and wonder in your eyes mirroring each other’s. “Did you feel that?” you ask, laughing as you try to catch your breath. “I did!” Mingi exclaims, his voice filled with amazement. “I can’t believe it. Our baby actually responded!”

You both laugh, the sound light and full of happiness. The sheer joy of the moment makes it feel like time stands still, the laughter echoing through your small kitchen, mingling with the comforting aroma of the stew. Mingi’s fingers continue to trace the spot where the baby kicked, his touch tender and full of awe. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just below your navel. His breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the depth of his emotion through that simple gesture.

But then, his protective instincts kick in. Mingi straightens up, concern replacing the wonder in his eyes. “You’ve been standing too long,” he says firmly, guiding you toward the dining table. “You need to rest. I’ll take care of the stew. Please, just sit down and relax.”

“Mingoo, it’s just a little kick,” you laugh softly, trying to ease his worry as he helps you sit. “I’m not going to break.” He’s already grabbing a cushion from the couch and carefully placing it behind your back, then lifting your feet to set them on another cushion on the floor. “You need to take it easy,” he insists, his tone softening. “I’ll get you some yulmu-cha. Something warm and good for you and the baby.”

Watching him move about the kitchen with such care, your heart swells with affection. “You’re amazing, you know that?” you say softly as he hands you a steaming cup of tea. Mingi kneels beside you, taking your hand in his. “I just want to make sure you are safe…both of you are safe,” he says, his voice heavy with emotion. “I want to protect you, to take care of our little family… always.” Who knew that such a tough-looking man was actually a softie?

You laugh, light and full of love, and rest your head on his shoulder in a teddy bear hug, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your small apartment and the love that fills it, you know that everything will be alright—as long as you have each other, you have everything you need.

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solxamber · 21 days ago

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Promises in Moonlight || Malleus Draconia

You've chosen Malleus!

Falling for Malleus was like finding warmth in the heart of Briar Valley's mist—slow, unyielding, and all-consuming.

Prologue ; 1k Masterlist

You’ve finally decided to take Malleus up on his invitation. After debating for what feels like forever (and Grim mocking you for "acting like a smitten fool"), you pull out your phone and text him, "I’d love to go for that walk with you!"

The reply you get is instant, as if Malleus had been sitting with his phone, eagerly awaiting your response:

"Dearest Child of Man, your acceptance fills me with an immeasurable sense of joy. I shall meet you at the courtyard shortly. Together, we will bask in the serenity of the night, under the gentle watch of the stars. Until then, may your anticipation for our evening be as bright as the moon above."

You can’t help but laugh. It’s the most Malleus text ever. It’s endearing in that formal, poetic, almost ancient way of his, and you feel warmth blooming in your chest as you quickly send a more casual, "Can’t wait :)" back to him.

Fast forward to later that evening, and Malleus arrives at Ramshackle Dorm. He’s looking as regal as ever, his usual air of authority softened by the way he looks at you. It’s not often you see Malleus trying to be cute, but he’s definitely putting in the effort. Before you can greet him properly, Grim trots up to Malleus with his chest puffed out.

"Hear me out, Tall, Dark, and Spooky," Grim begins, sounding like he’s about to bestow a grave responsibility, "You better keep my henchhuman safe tonight. If anything happens to ‘em, I’ll… I’ll bite your ankles or somethin’!"

You glance sideways at Grim, trying not to snicker. Malleus blinks once, twice, then solemnly nods. "Fear not, small creature," he says, placing a hand over his heart. "I shall protect them as though they were a rare treasure."

Grim gives a self-satisfied nod, satisfied with Malleus’s promise, but mutters under his breath, "Better be careful with those big words, pal. You’ll confuse yourself."

Malleus, seemingly oblivious to Grim’s muttering, reaches into his coat pocket and produces a delicate, ethereal flower that looks like it was plucked straight from a fairy tale. He offers it to you with a small, proud smile. "I thought this would suit you."

You accept the flower, grinning. "It’s beautiful. But… I’m going to put it in my hair so I can hold your hand instead."

Malleus blinks, looking a bit caught off guard but quickly recovering. "Of course." His eyes light up as he helps you tuck the flower into your hair, then immediately offers you his hand.

As your fingers intertwine with his, you catch a glimpse of Malleus looking rather pleased with himself. The two of you set off on your walk, and the cool night air feels refreshing as you stroll through the nearly deserted campus.

The silence between you isn’t awkward—it’s peaceful. You walk in step with Malleus, both of you just existing in the shared space. Occasionally, you glance over at him, and he meets your gaze with a small smile, looking like he’s perfectly content just to be here with you.

After a while, Malleus breaks the silence. "I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve arranged for something a little… special tonight," he says, his tone carrying just a hint of mystery.

"Oh? What kind of ‘special’?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

"You’ll see soon enough." There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leads you to Diasomnia.

The moment you step inside, you’re hit with a scene that is, frankly, a chaotic masterpiece. The room has been transformed—or rather, overrun—with blankets, pillows, and a massive screen set up at the front. It looks like a makeshift home theater… if home theaters had Malleus-themed decorations plastered everywhere.

Sebek, naturally, is standing near the entrance, looking way too serious for a casual movie night. You spot Silver, slouched on a couch, looking like he’s already resigned to his fate. And then there’s Lilia, standing proudly beside what can only be described as an abomination of a dish.

"Welcome!" Lilia says, grinning as you take in the scene. "I’ve prepared a meal that will enhance your movie-watching experience!"

"By enhance, do you mean threaten our health?" Silver mutters under his breath.

Lilia just winks at you. "It’s a very special recipe. A relic of ancient times!"

"More like an ancient curse," Silver mumbles, though he doesn’t even try to argue anymore.

You bite back a laugh, eyeing the dish with mild suspicion. It’s bubbling. You’re pretty sure it shouldn’t be bubbling.

"Yeah, I think I’ll pass on the ancient relic stew, but thanks," you say diplomatically, backing away just a little.

Malleus, meanwhile, is over by the movie selection, poring over the options like he’s deciding on the fate of the universe.

While you wait, you notice the posters—of Malleus. Everywhere. "Sebek," you say slowly, "why… are there so many Malleus posters?"

Sebek, looking proud as ever, gestures grandly at the posters. "It’s only fitting to surround ourselves with the greatness of Lord Malleus during such a significant event!"

"You mean… movie night?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Every moment spent in Lord Malleus’s presence is significant!" Sebek declares, his voice booming through the room.

You glance at Silver, who’s barely staying awake on the couch. "You’re just… going to let this happen?" you ask him.

Silver shrugs, not even opening his eyes. "I tried. He wouldn’t listen."

Meanwhile, Lilia sidles up to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Isn’t this just the most romantic setting? Blankets, pillows, and the gentle glow of Malleus-themed lighting?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help but laugh. "Very romantic," you say dryly. "Nothing says ‘date night’ like staring at your date’s face plastered on every surface."

Malleus returns, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him, and gently takes your hand. "I believe I’ve found the perfect movie for us," he says.

You nod, smiling up at him, and soon the others—after a bit more banter (and an exaggerated wink from Lilia)—excuse themselves, leaving you and Malleus alone. Well, alone except for the giant Malleus plushie you’ve decided to cuddle.

"You’re… quite fond of that plushie," Malleus remarks, clearly amused as you hug it to your chest.

You grin. "What can I say? It’s cute. Though the real thing is a lot more handsome."

Malleus chuckles softly, his voice low and warm. "I’m glad you think so."

The movie begins, but it’s hard to focus when you’re so comfortable, leaning against Malleus with the plushie in your arms. His presence is soothing, his warmth comforting, and before you know it, you’re resting your head on his shoulder.

Malleus tenses slightly at first, then relaxes, letting out a contented sigh. His fingers gently trace circles on your hand, and you can feel the smile tugging at his lips even though you’re not looking directly at him.

By the time the movie ends, you’re both so relaxed that moving feels like an unnecessary chore. But, eventually, Malleus stands and offers his hand to help you up.

"Shall I walk you back to your dorm?" he asks, his tone as soft as the night air outside.

You nod, still clutching the Malleus plushie. "I’m keeping this, by the way."

Malleus looks genuinely pleased. "I’m honored that you would want a keepsake of me."

You laugh softly, feeling a bit giddy as the two of you walk back to Ramshackle, hand in hand. The stars twinkle overhead, but all you can focus on is the warmth of Malleus’s hand in yours.

When you reach the dorm, Malleus stops at the entrance, gently lifting your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. "I hope you enjoyed our evening," he says, his voice low and sincere.

Your heart flutters, but before you can overthink it, you lean forward and kiss him on the cheek. "I did," you say, grinning. Then, with a quick wave, you bounce inside, feeling giddy and lighthearted.

Behind you, Malleus watches with that same soft, fond smile—the one that makes you feel like you’re the one who hung the moon and stars in the sky.

You’re making friendship bracelets. A totally normal, human, dorm-room craft project that you figured would be a simple way to spend time with Malleus. Only, you didn't realize that trying to explain the concept of “friendship bracelets” to a fae prince would result in the single most baffling night of his life.

“...so, wait.” He holds up the half-done bracelet, staring at it like it’s a cryptic relic. “This braided string will signify… a bond?”

You nod enthusiastically, handing him another bead. “Yep! It’s a human tradition. It means you’re, like, symbolically connected, so whenever you look at the bracelet, you remember the person who made it for you.”

He stares at the half-finished bracelet with grave intensity, as if he’s holding a sacred relic. “So, this… strand of colored threads… will tether me to you, even in times when we are apart?”

You nod again, trying not to giggle. “Exactly. Just a cute, little reminder of our friendship.”

He considers this with such solemnity that you can practically see him pondering the metaphysical implications of colored yarn.

“What magic does it require?” he asks after a beat, fully serious.

You blink. “Magic? Oh, it doesn’t need magic. It’s… just a bracelet.”

His brow furrows, and he holds up his attempt at weaving, which, frankly, looks more like a knotted ball than anything close to a bracelet. “I see. So, human enchantments rely on symbolism rather than spells.”

You bite back a laugh. “Uh… sure. Yeah, it’s symbolic magic.”

“Fascinating.” He looks down at his tangled knot of yarn, nodding solemnly. “Then I must ensure my own… symbol is woven with the utmost care. For a bond such as ours, it must not unravel.”

You’re halfway through yours when you realize he’s been muttering to himself, beads and string in hand, whispering things like, “May this braid carry my promise of loyalty” and “I vow to protect our bond with the same devotion I would give the throne.”

He even brings his hand to his heart at one point, closing his eyes with the bracelet pressed to his chest. You’re struggling not to laugh as he gives what is essentially a formal vow to the bracelet.

“Malleus,” you say, finally unable to hold it in, “you know it’s just a bracelet, right? You don’t have to swear a whole oath.”

He looks up, slightly flustered. “Ah… right. Of course.” He clears his throat, but there’s a bit of a pink tinge to his cheeks. “Well… if it carries the weight of our connection, I should still approach it with appropriate respect.”

You shake your head, suppressing a smile. “It’s honestly perfect just as it is.”

He holds out the knotted, lopsided braid he’s made, eyes gleaming. “Then, I present to you, my friendship… symbol.”

You accept it with a grin, tying it on. “Thanks, Malleus. This might be the most intense friendship bracelet I’ve ever gotten.”

“Of course,” he replies, smiling gently. “It is a pledge. And… I’ll think of you, whenever I see it.”

You bite back a laugh again, but honestly, his sincerity is so endearing you might just melt on the spot. And as you look at the knotted, chaotic masterpiece on your wrist, you realize you’ve never loved a bracelet more.

You were desperate. No, really—absolutely desperate. Lilia was busy with some mysterious “business,” and Silver had fallen asleep before you even got your full sentence out. That left…Sebek.

But you thought maybe, just maybe, you could get him to help you pick out a gift for Malleus if you praised Malleus enough to keep him distracted and maybe, hopefully, get him to leave you alone once you found something.

Sebek, however, wasn’t budging from your side.

“This is a sacred duty!” he announced, as you entered the gift shop. “For you to bring a gift worthy of Lord Malleus’s greatness, I shall assist! Do not think of slacking in this matter!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you muttered under your breath. Oh, this was going to be a long day.

You wander through the aisles and spot a black dragon statuette. You figure, hey, it’s got that draconic charm Malleus likes, and it’s nice enough without screaming “I tried way too hard.”

“What about this?” you suggest.

Sebek’s nose wrinkles like you just offered him expired milk. “This common tchotchke? Lord Malleus deserves something that reflects the grandiosity of his soul! This is but a disgrace!”

“...Okay,” you mumble, quickly putting the dragon back. “Noted. Next one.”

You take a deep breath, determined not to give up. You find a beautiful leather-bound book, the kind with fancy gold embossing that practically screams “I have depth and culture.” Perfect for Malleus, right?

Sebek looks at it, raises an eyebrow, and says with all the judgment he can muster, “A book? This is not some back-alley rummage sale! Lord Malleus is no mere scholar—he is a being of power and mystery. A mere book is not worthy!”

You’re starting to get a headache. “Sebek, this isn’t a sacred quest. It’s just a gift.”

Sebek crosses his arms. “Then act like it!”

You’re mentally calculating how long it would take to just make a break for it when you spot a crystal snow globe on a nearby shelf. It’s got a tiny castle inside with delicate little frosted details and swirling glitter. Pretty cute, honestly.

“What about this one?” You hold it up, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

Sebek stares at the snow globe, visibly appalled. “A snow globe? Are you trying to insinuate that Lord Malleus is some… carnival trinket vendor? This is an insult!”

You try to control your breathing. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Finally, you turn to him with a smile that’s about five seconds from breaking. “Sebek, it has been a pleasure. But I think I’ll, uh… figure it out myself from here.”

You barely hear him as he starts to object because you’re already halfway out the door.

Back at Ramshackle, an idea hits you. If you can’t find a gift, you can make one. After scouring the dorm for supplies, you somehow put together a makeshift snow globe with a tiny gargoyle inside, swirling in blue and silver glitter. It’s definitely handmade, but you’re sure Malleus will appreciate it.

Later that evening, you meet Malleus outside, heart pounding a bit as you hold out the homemade snow globe. “I… made this for you,” you say, offering it up.

Malleus takes it, eyes wide with wonder as he examines it, turning it in his hands to watch the glitter float around the little gargoyle. “Did you… make this yourself?”

“Yeah,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. “Figured you’d like it. And hey, it’s one of a kind, so… now you have something no one else does.”

Malleus’s expression softens, his smile growing into something that practically melts your heart. “Are you… courting me?” he asks, his tone almost mischievous.

You snort. “I am, actually. Thought I’d ask you out…again. Officially.”

Malleus’s eyes light up, and he pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you as if you’re the rarest treasure. “Then I graciously accept,” he says, his voice warm with laughter.

Sebek’s probably going to be horrified, but that’s a problem for future you. Right now, Malleus is looking at you with an expression that says you’re all he’s ever wanted, and that’s more than enough.

Malleus Draconia storming into the infirmary was a sight to behold. The door nearly flew off its hinges as he strode in, casting a long shadow over the entire room. Rain poured against the windows like someone had flipped on a faucet, lightning crackling ominously outside as he zeroed in on you with eyes that could’ve cut glass.

“Child of Man,” he intoned, voice a few shades too deep and dark. “I heard you were hurt.”

You, sitting up on the infirmary bed, waved a hand quickly. “Malleus, I’m fine! I’m totally fine! Ace actually took most of the fall for me.”

At that, Malleus’s intense gaze shifted to Ace, who was lying in the bed next to you, bruised, bandaged, and looking a bit like a disaster but still somehow smug. His grin only widened as Malleus took him in, and for once, Ace didn’t seem to have any wisecracks. Not yet, at least.

“Really, I’m okay, Malleus,” you reassured him again, reaching out to gently tug on his sleeve, trying to bring him back to reality. “It was just… a minor accident.”

Malleus let out a breath, his shoulders finally relaxing, and the rain outside softened to a drizzle. But when he saw Ace's injuries, a faint gleam of green magic sparked in his eyes. With a murmured spell, Malleus extended a hand over Ace, and a warm green light enveloped him, healing the bruises and cuts in seconds.

Ace blinked, absolutely dumbfounded as he patted himself down, looking at his newly healed skin. “Woah, hold on. Did… did I just get fae-healed?” He threw a proud glance at Deuce, who looked equally impressed.

“Guess saving someone as important as the prefect has its perks, huh?” Ace grinned, milking the moment for all it was worth.

Deuce elbowed him, eyes wide. “Dude, you got a fae to use magic on you! That’s like… that’s gotta be worth something!”

Malleus, however, seemed completely unaware of their astonishment. He turned back to you, his expression softening. “I’m relieved to see you unharmed, but perhaps we should consider… measures to avoid this in the future.”

You tilted your head, a bit wary of his tone. “Measures?”

“Yes.” Malleus nodded, serious as ever. “I will procure a shield for you. Perhaps one enchanted with protective charms, powerful enough to withstand nearly any impact.” His hand closed over yours, his gaze softening but his words completely, utterly sincere. “I’d rather not see you in danger again.”

At this, you couldn’t hold back a snicker. “A… shield? Malleus, that’s sweet, but I think a little protective magic might be overkill.”

“Absolutely not,” Malleus replied, as if you’d suggested something truly absurd. “Or perhaps I should assign a member of my guard to you. It would be a temporary arrangement, of course.”

Ace, never one to let an opportunity slip by, piped up. “Oooh, how about Sebek? He’d follow them around like a watchdog. ‘Human, beware of the tripping hazard!’ ‘Human', allow me to carry your books to avoid any injury!’”

You laughed so hard at the impression that you nearly slid off the bed. Deuce tried his best to look like he was keeping it together, but the way his shoulders shook betrayed him.

Malleus, apparently unfazed by your amusement, looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “You mock my concerns, yet I believe this is a practical solution.”

“Oh, I know you do,” you said, wiping your eyes. “But, trust me. I’ll be okay without a magical shield or a Sebek bodyguard. Especially since, well…” You softened, leaning into his chest and giving his back a comforting pat. “You’re here to keep me safe, aren’t you?”

The room went still as Malleus’s expression softened even further, his entire face lighting up at your words. The last of the rain disappeared, leaving only a golden sunset spilling light through the windows.

Meanwhile, Ace watched the two of you with a half-joking pout. “Damn. Imagine being favored by a fae prince and dropping that kind of romantic line. If only Malleus was this concerned with my safety.”

Deuce crossed his arms, pretending to ponder. “You think we could get fae security if we also hung out with the prefect all the time?”

Grim, who’d been lounging on your bed, rolled his eyes. “Listen, you two can argue all you want, but I’m the one who gets the most danger-protection, and don’t you forget it!”

Ignoring the three, you glanced back at Malleus. “Seriously, I don’t need any magic armor, Malleus. As long as you’re around, I’ll be okay.”

For a moment, Malleus just looked at you, a rare and breathtaking smile spreading across his face. Slowly, he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss there, the gentleness of the gesture stealing your breath.

“I shall remain, then,” he murmured, his voice as warm as the sunset. “Though my offer still stands should you ever change your mind.”

You grinned, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. “Noted, Your Highness. I’ll let you know.”

With a parting wink and one last hand squeeze, Malleus let you settle back, his gaze lingering on you with an affectionate warmth that softened all the edges of his normally intense demeanor. If you’d known he’d go this far over one little mishap, maybe you’d have considered more dangerous hobbies just to see that side of him.

The rain was no ordinary downpour, that much was certain. It came in waves, sweeping across the campus like a brewing tempest, soaking students to the bone if they dared step outside. But as the day dragged on and the storm grew more intense, you were pretty sure you knew who was behind it.

You’d tried calling Malleus several times—three missed calls, four, five… and each time, the rain seemed to pour harder. You knew this wasn't just a storm; it was his storm, and whatever caused it had to be serious. When Malleus finally didn’t answer his phone on the sixth call, you felt your worry rise and dialed Lilia instead.

“Ah, you’ve noticed?” Lilia’s voice came through, light but with a hint of concern. “Malleus isn’t usually this… temperamental. Why don’t you come by Diasomnia? I think you might be able to reach him better than anyone right now.”

As the rain continued pounding outside, Lilia whisked you to the dark halls of Diasomnia, both of you making your way to Malleus’s dorm room. You raised your hand and knocked, waiting. Nothing. You glanced at Lilia, who gave you an encouraging nod. You turned the handle slowly, easing the door open.

Inside, Malleus was seated by his window, staring out at the rain-soaked world like some tragic hero in a romance novel. His usually strong and dignified presence seemed... deflated. His shoulders were hunched, and his entire form looked as if it was weighed down by an unseen burden.

"Malleus?" you said gently.

He turned, his eyes widening just slightly at the sight of you. But then his gaze dropped, and he returned to staring out at the rain. “Why did you come?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re clearly upset,” you replied, crossing the room to stand by his side.

He stayed quiet for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. “I overheard some students talking… about us,” he said slowly, bitterness edging his words. “They said our relationship is… impossible. That it won’t last because we’re too different. That you’d never want to live somewhere like Briar Valley… and that—” His voice broke slightly, and he hesitated. “That no human in their right mind would choose a life there with me.”

His words felt like a dagger, and you could see the depth of his hurt in the way he clenched his hands. The thought of him hearing such hurtful things from people who didn't even know him, didn’t know you, sparked something protective in you. You sat down beside him, reaching out to place your hand over his.

“Malleus, those people don’t know anything,” you said softly but firmly. “They only see what they want to see. But they don’t see you.”

“But… they aren’t wrong, are they?” His voice was so low it almost broke your heart. “Briar Valley is… a kingdom of fae, ancient and isolated. And I… I am not like you. I am seen as a figure of fear by many.”

“Stop it.” You squeezed his hand, forcing him to look at you. “Malleus, you’re not ‘gloomy’ or ‘scary.’ You’re thoughtful and kind. And as for Briar Valley…” You took a deep breath, your eyes shining. “I’d follow you to a volcano if you asked me to, Malleus. And Briar Valley sounds lovely in comparison.”

He blinked, looking genuinely taken aback. “You… mean that?”

“Of course I do.” You felt a smile tugging at your lips, leaning closer to him. “Malleus, I’m… I’m in love with you. I don’t care about where we are, as long as we’re together. Besides, I’d visit my friends; it’s not like I’d be vanishing off the face of the earth.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed, as if you’d just declared the moon was his for the taking. “You… love me?” His voice was barely a whisper, disbelief and hope warring in his gaze.

You squeezed his hand tighter. “Yes, you big dramatic dragon, I do. I love you exactly as you are.” Then, unable to resist, you smiled and added, “You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. And, if I’m being honest, I think you make a perfect Prince Charming.”

At that, he let out a surprised chuckle, one that you felt all the way to your heart. The rain began to lighten outside, but Malleus wasn’t finished yet. “But… would you truly want to come with me to Briar Valley after graduation?” he asked, searching your face, as if afraid the answer might change.

Your lips curved into a teasing smile. “Is that a proposal, Malleus?”

He blinked, looking at you with such intense sincerity that it made you catch your breath. “Perhaps it is… if that is what you desire.”

You couldn’t help it; you laughed, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Malleus, let’s take this one step at a time. It’s a little too early for marriage, but yes… I’ll come with you. No hesitation.”

Relief washed over his face, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he let out a long, contented sigh. Then, before you knew it, he was cupping your face gently, pulling you close, and pressing his lips softly against yours, his touch filled with both relief and quiet joy. You melted into the kiss, feeling the world around you fall away.

When you finally pulled back, you stayed wrapped up in each other, Malleus resting his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice as soft as the rain beginning to stop outside.

And then, as if by magic, the sun began to peek through the clouds. You glanced out the window and gasped—a beautiful rainbow stretched across the sky, its colors bright and vivid against the softening gray.

Outside in the hallway, Lilia noticed the sudden sunlight flooding through the windows. He smirked, crossing his arms as he gazed out at the sky. “Well now,” he murmured to himself with a knowing smile. “It seems the storm has finally passed.”

Briar Valley's winding paths had become second nature to you. From the thorn-laden trees to the misty moors, it was all oddly comforting now, a world you’d somehow made your own despite the constant whispers of “That magicless human will last a month, tops.”

Yet here you were, strolling with Silver and Grim by your side, perfectly at ease as the Fae here had learned to both respect you and—surprisingly enough—grow fond of you. Perhaps it was your persistence, or maybe the sight of how Malleus practically glowed around you had softened their opinion. Regardless, Silver’s calm, quiet presence made the walk feel almost peaceful.

Silver’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Would you take a detour with me for a moment?”

“Uh… sure.” You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t ignore the curiosity blooming inside.

Grim, still trotting alongside you, glanced up with a huff. “If it’s not back to the palace for a feast, count me out. I’m starving!”

He took you off the main path, weaving through a side route cloaked in the kinds of flowers that only seemed to bloom under the moonlight, until you reached the garden.

You noticed the unmistakable glimmer of fae lights strung up along the branches, casting an enchanting glow. Beneath them was a breathtaking arrangement: intricate flowers, delicate linens, and candles flickering gently as if they held their own breath, waiting.

“Silver… what’s this?” you turned to him, only to find he’d vanished, leaving you alone. Grim, however, was very much there, sitting and squinting at the setup as if trying to make sense of it.

“You think he’d at least stick around to explain,” Grim muttered, tail twitching.

Your heart raced, realizing exactly what this setup meant before even seeing him.

And then, as if stepping straight out of a fairytale, Malleus appeared. His dark attire blended almost seamlessly into the night, but his eyes were alive with a glint that made him stand out against everything else. You swallowed, feeling your pulse thud as he lowered himself onto one knee, reaching out to you with a small velvet box in hand.

“Will you—”

You were already nodding so vigorously that he chuckled, his deep voice warm and delighted as he tried to finish. “I have barely started, my love.”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m listening,” you said, though your feet were already itching to close the distance.

“Will you marry me?” His voice was low, intimate, every word wrapping around you as if sealing the two of you together. You swore the whole garden held its breath as the weight of his question sank in.

“Yes!” You practically launched yourself into his arms, the momentum nearly sending him off balance. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed a kiss to his lips, almost dizzy with excitement. He held you firmly, and you could feel his smile against your mouth as he returned the kiss, slow and heartfelt.

When you finally pulled back, catching your breath, you heard the sound of clapping—raucous, joyous applause. Looking over, you spotted Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and Grim, all watching with varying degrees of excitement. Lilia wore a proud, delighted grin, and even Silver looked softer than usual.

Sebek, meanwhile, was visibly struggling to hold back tears, sniffing and blinking rapidly. “My prince… has found his beloved…”

Lilia cackled, nudging him with a wicked grin. “Oh, Sebek! Who would’ve thought you’d be the emotional one? How poetic!”

“I am not emotional!” Sebek said, wiping his eyes. “I’m simply… moved by the occasion!”

Silver shook his head, though his smile remained gentle as he murmured, “Welcome to the family.”

And then there was Grim, who was glaring daggers at anyone who dared glance in his direction. “Pfft… it’s… it’s not like I care, or anything. Dust got in my eyes, that’s all,” he grumbled, pawing at his face, though his sniffling was obvious.

“Oh, Grim,” you laughed, reaching over to scratch behind his ears. He let out a small, begrudging purr, though he immediately caught himself and huffed, turning his back on you all with an indignant “Hmph.”

Malleus turned to them, unable to hide his own joy as he held you close. “Thank you, all of you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. Your eyes twinkle with mischief as you add, “I suppose you three can’t get rid of me now.”

Malleus chuckles, and Lilia grinned, placing a hand on his chest as he gave you a dramatic bow. “We wouldn’t dream of it. I mean, you’re the only one who’s managed to survive here, make Malleus happy, and deal with Sebek. That alone earns you a medal.”

Sebek opened his mouth, clearly ready to defend himself, but Silver beat him to it with a subtle nudge. “Come on, Sebek. You know it’s true.”

“Fine, but—” Sebek cut himself off with a sigh, his expression softening once more. “I am happy for you, truly.”

You beamed, touched by the sincerity in his voice. You knew Sebek’s respect wasn’t easy to earn, but it made the moment even more meaningful.

Lilia clapped his hands together, eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, the Briar Valley will be singing tales of this day for centuries. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Lilia,” Malleus said, a warning in his tone. “Please don’t exaggerate.”

“Oh, I don’t need to exaggerate,” Lilia said with a gleeful grin, his eyes alight with a hundred mischievous ideas. “You’ve done that for me by being your overly poetic self. ‘The magicless one who tamed the dragon prince’ will practically write itself.”

“Perhaps we could skip the ‘taming’ part,” you muttered, blushing at Lilia’s teasing. But you caught Malleus’s gaze, and the depth of emotion there silenced everything else.

He pulled you close, his forehead resting gently against yours. “We can let them say whatever they wish,” he murmured, his voice for your ears alone. “So long as you’re by my side.”

“Always,” you whispered back, and as his arms held you close, you glanced over to see the others clapping and cheering—and yes, even Grim was sitting proudly beside Silver, nodding as if this had all been his doing.

The future had never looked brighter.

1k Masterlist ; Main Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus #malleus draconia x you #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #malleus

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froggiewrites · 1 month ago

Text

Into the Dragon's Den

Pairing: Dragon!Ace x Reader

NSFW

Summary: This job is going to change your life. With the treasure from the dragon’s hoard, you’ll never have to work again, you’re sure of it. But when he catches you in the act, you find you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. Everything in this room is his, and he insists that includes you. But really, would it be so bad to play your part? Warnings: AFAB!Reader (no pronouns or gendered language used), Smut, Size Kink, Objectification (Reader treated as a treasure), Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Praise Kink, Biting/Marking, Tail Sex, Overstimulation, Possessiveness, Vaginal Sex Word Count: 3k Halloween Special 2024

It’s impossibly warm within the dragon’s lair. Your clothes are soaked through with sweat, sticking to you with every step, but still you press on. Your current discomfort is nothing compared to the bliss that’s going to follow, once you get this gold.

You had no idea how large his hoard was, when you first came here. You knew that even a small hoard would pay for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life, but the amount of gold, jewels, and priceless artifacts in this cave could feed an entire kingdom for a century, at least. You can’t pocket it all, of course, but if you choose wisely you’ll be able to live like royalty once you find the right buyer for it all. You’ll never have to work a day again in your life, safe and protected and cozy in a little piece of land just for yourself. You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face from the thought.

The dragon is nowhere to be seen, hopefully out hunting or something else that will take it a while. You’re no dragon slayer, and you don’t care to be. You don’t want to kill such a magnificent creature, simply relieve it of some loose change and trinkets. Nothing it will miss. You didn’t even bring anything to defend yourself other than a tiny dagger, one that couldn’t pierce a dragon’s hide even wielded by the greatest warrior. You’re a would-be thief, nothing else.

Your eyes drag over the room you stand in, clearly burrowed out by massive claws and set with a fire that would leave nothing but ash were it set upon you. The floor is a beautiful volcanic glass, which you would love to chip away and take with you, but while your dagger would certainly be able to take off a piece or two, it would also shatter immediately on impact. You instead settle for a large pile of gold jewelry. You can see dozens of precious gems peeking out, sapphires and rubies and diamonds catching the dim light so beautifully you’re drawn closer like a moth to a flame. You spot a particularly beautiful necklace, with an orange gemstone that looks like fire itself inlaid in the center, and you can’t help but reach out for it. It’s only once your fingers have wrapped around it that you hear the rumbling voice behind you.

“Are you sure you should be touching that?” The voice is deep, rumbling, but there’s a hint of joviality to it, laughing like there’s a joke here, and you’re the punchline. You whip around to see it, or him, towering above you. You expected some horrible beast, a lizard spanning the length of the room, but standing before you is almost a man. He’s frighteningly tall, at least double your height, and his biceps and pectorals are larger than your head. His hands, which are reaching toward you, are tipped in black claws that could easily rip you to shreds. He’s hardly clothed, just a simple pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination, and most of his exposed skin is covered in beautiful, glistening red scales. His cheeks are dotted with both freckles and smaller scales, and his eyes are piercing, his pupils slits that you can see grow wider as he looks at you. His grin is filled with razor sharp teeth that you can imagine ripping into your throat. On either side of his head are curling horns reaching for the sky. You’d call him beautiful, were you not so terrified. There is a large tail behind him, whipping back and forth with an audible swish. You feel like a mouse caught beneath the claws of a cat, waiting to be toyed with before being ripped to shreds.

One hand wraps around your waist, while the other plucks the necklace easily from your grasp. He holds it up to the light as he pulls you closer, allowing the gem to sparkle and shine. He hums, which is more of a rumble, before holding it up to your neck. His eyes seem to strip you bare as they rake over you. His grin grows wider. “It suits you. Would you like to wear it, little one?”

You stare, mouth agape, and he laughs again, showing off every one of his teeth. You force yourself to answer. “I–I couldn’t possibly.”

His eyes narrow slightly, and you feel as though you’ve failed some kind of test. “You could. I wouldn’t have offered if you couldn’t. It’s a lovely piece.” With the way he’s staring, you can’t help but feel he isn’t talking about the necklace.

You don’t know what role you’re playing here, but you know he’s massive and gorgeous and terrifying, so you try to fulfill it anyway. “Then I suppose I would.”

He grins, pulling you close until you’re pressed against him and releasing you, delicately clasping the necklace around your neck. It’s thick and heavy, feeling almost like a collar. His claw traces gently along where it falls on your neck, leaning down to admire the shine of gold against your skin. “Lovely,” he murmurs, and you can feel his hot breath against your face, smelling of smoke and burning oak. He leans closer, his tongue, which is far longer than a regular man’s, tracing along the path his fingers took. You shiver, and you can feel him grin against your skin before nipping right at your sweet spot.

You yelp. “Wh–what are you doing?”

His voice is low when he whispers in your ear. “I’m enjoying what’s mine.”

“What?”

“Everything in this room is one of my treasures.” His nips at you again, before his lips brush gently against the spot to soothe the marks he surely left. “And such a lovely one just snuck in to make their place here. How lucky am I?” Another nip, another kiss, then a gentle suckle against your skin. You whine at the sensation, heat flooding you, and he laughs again.

“I’m–I’m not–ah!” His hand inserts itself between your thighs, making you instinctively clench them around it as he presses into you through your pants. He slowly drags up, watching as you whimper and whine under his heated attention.

“Not what? Mine? Or a treasure?” He chuckles, and you feel the sound echo through his chest as it presses against yours. “You’re both, sweet thing. Unless you care to explain why else you’d be here?” His tone is still hot and seductive, but the words carry a challenge. His teeth are still against your throat, and for the first and only time his bite is enough to draw blood. He quickly licks it away, soothing it with his long, forked tongue, but the message is clear.

You whimper, the sound coming from deep within you, though whether it comes from fear or arousal you don’t quite know. You open your mouth to confess, to submit yourself to him, to say anything at all, but you’re met with that same tongue entering your throat. The kiss is horribly sloppy, wet and wild and wanting, as his hands slowly start to move. One keeps pressing against your clit through your pants, tortuously slow, while the other reaches for your chest. You expect to feel him paw at you, but instead you feel a slight sharpness from his claw down the front of your shirt, cutting it and your bra in two. They don’t fall off immediately, stuck to you with sweat, and he makes a discontented grunt before peeling them off of you. You involuntarily squeak at the sensation, and start to pull back, but something scaled and rough wraps around your waist keeping you still.

His tail holds you firmly, tight enough to keep you from squirming but not tightly enough to bruise. The sensation of his scales scraping against the bottom of your breasts is interesting, and you can’t tell if it’s discomfort or pleasure that makes you shiver. He seems to enjoy it either way. The tip of it starts to make its way down, slipping below the waistband of your pants and pressing lightly against your clit. You gasp against him, and he grins against your lips.

You finally get a moment to breathe as he pulls back to admire your upper half, the way your skin looks pressed against his snails, your exposed chest and the way it heaves as you try to catch your breath. His pupils start to overtake his irises the more he looks at you. “A wonderful addition to my collection,” he murmurs hotly, leaning in to nip at your tits. “The crowning jewel, really. I’ll have to find the perfect place for you. Somewhere you’ll catch the light just right.”

He leaves marks all over your torso, hickies and bites that you’re sure will stay for days. He turns his claws to your pants, finally removing his hand from between your thighs to drag a claw on the outsides of either pant leg and quickly ripping them off. His tail still lightly rubs against you as he peels off your panties and finally exposes you fully to the heated air around you. He finally leaves your chest alone, kissing down your stomach to meet his tail blocking his path further down. His tip leaves your clit, and you let out a pathetic noise that he absolutely delights in.

“Don’t worry, treasure. I’d never leave you wanting.” He looks up at you, scales catching the light, and gives you a smile you could almost be convinced was filled with genuine affection. But the hunger, the wanting, the possession still reflects in his eyes, betraying him for the animal he is. His tail leaves your midriff, and his hands find your thighs, spreading them easily. “You’re dripping, sweet thing. You really are perfect. Could you really blame me for wanting to keep you all to myself?”

You struggle to speak in your lust-infused haze, but you manage. “I–I’m not perfect.”

“Oh, but you are, treasure, even if you don’t know it. You’re going to love being mine, I promise. I take very good care of my things.”

You find yourself coming unraveled underneath his gaze, bare and vulnerable. The truth comes out of you almost like a compulsion. “I was trying to steal from you.”

He chuckles. “I know. You seem a bit greedy.” He easily lifts you, placing your thighs on his shoulders, his nose pressing into your core. “It’s alright. So am I.”

With that, he dives in, eating you out like a man starved. His tongue is much longer than a human’s, finding places within you that you didn’t even know were there to be found. He makes loud slurping sounds, ones that make you blush despite yourself. You’re suspended in the air, coming unraveled on his tongue, unable to muffle your cries as he buries himself into you. You clench your eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation. Your hands tangle in his hair tightly, pulling at every movement of his tongue, and he growls against you with every tug.

He murmurs against you, “So sweet, darling thing.” HIs nose brushes against your clit, and you begin to fall, only to be caught by his tail, held midair, only supported by him. Every sensation you can feel is him, from his tongue to his tail to the warmth of the air in his lair, he is the only world you are allowed to know. His claws dig into the plush of your thighs as he continues his feast, showing his strength, his lethality, but never threatening to truly puncture. You wonder how many people have been ripped to shred by the hands holding you, how many have been consumed by the mouth that presses against you.

He continues to lap away at you as you cry out, muscles tensing as you build towards your climax. He’s unrelenting as he greedily tastes you, lost in your flavor, the feeling of your thighs clenching around his head, the softness of your skin underneath his tail. You manage to open your eyes just long enough to glance down at him and see there is not a single millimeter between him and you. As he feels you grow closer and closer, one of his hands reaches for your clit, gently rubbing against it, and you finally come unraveled around him. He doesn’t slow for a moment as you cry out and clench around him. Your orgasm ravages you just as he does, pleasure bursting through you. You expect him to pull away, to begin to prepare to enter you, but he doesn’t slow for a moment, letting out soft moans against your mound as he continues.

“W–What are you–”

He growls against you as you try to pull him back. “Mine.”

“Please, it–it’s too much!” You cry as he hits a particularly sensitive spot again.

When he hears your noises shift from pleasure to discomfort, he seems to find himself for a moment, finally pulling you off of him slightly. His chin is dripping with your juices, his cheeks shining from the wetness covering them. His eyes are completely blown out, and he looks almost lost as he pulls back. He only focuses again once he looks up at your face, and he seems to remember where he is. You maintain eye contact for a moment, as one of his hands comes up to lightly brush against the necklace you’re wearing. “A treasure, a feast, a beauty. You really are perfect.” His voice is filled with a quiet awe, enough that you allow yourself to ignore the heat of possession burning beneath the words. “And you’re all mine.”

Some part of you wants to deny it, but more of you is lost in the haze of it all, and you find yourself muttering, “Yes, yes, yours!”

“Yes, treasure, yes.” He kisses your thigh before he begins lowering you, holding you with his arms instead. Something scaly and hard begins to slither up your thigh, and you whine as you feel his tail dip against your entrance. “Just a bit more, sweet thing. To make sure you’re ready.”

“Please,” you mutter, for mercy, for more, for whatever he’ll give you.

“Of course.” His tail slowly enters you, stretching you easily after all of his attention earlier. He pushes and pushes, making you feel wonderfully full. His tail grows wider as it continues, threatening to tear you in two, but you manage to accommodate him anyway. “So good for me, treasure. Doing such a wonderful job. You were made for this. For me.”

You feel the alien sensation of his scales against your walls as he slowly pulls it out and pushes it back in, testing how far you can stretch, how much of his you can take. He murmurs soft praises with every inch you’re able to fit, about how perfect you are, about what a wonderful addition to his collection you’ll be, about what a prize you are. “You’ll stay with me forever, treasure. I have the perfect space for you in my bed, and the firelight will illuminate your beauty just right. You’ll wear all of the jewels you could ever desire. And you’ll feel pleasure like this every night.”

You cry when he pulls out of you, but you’re quickly silenced by the sensation of something far larger poking against your entrance. “Don’t tense up now, treasure. You’re doing so well. It’ll be alright.”

A strangled moan leaves you when he inserts himself, stretching you wider than any point of his tail did. Tears prick at your eyes, and your thighs tense, but you force yourself to take a breath and relax.

“Just like that. You can do it.” He slides and slides for what feels like forever, and you look down to see where he meets you. His cock is monstrous, and you clench around him when you see the bulge in your belly from your body trying to accommodate it. He moans. “Ah, just like that. Perfect. So perfect.”

He pulls you impossibly closer, kissing you with something resembling tenderness. Then, all at once, he pulls out and slams into you quickly, a single hand on your hips moving you up and down at a breakneck pace. You cry out, and he quickly silences you with another deep kiss, bouncing you on his cock like you were made for nothing more than this. His hips pound against you as his other hand reaches for your clit. His claw briefly presses against your skin, but mercifully you find his fingertip rubbing against you instead. You can hear nothing over the blood rushing in your ears and his heavy breaths as he continues to rut against you. His lips leave yours and you whine. He’s saying something, but you can’t make out the words. His tone is enough, wanting and desperate, for you to know he’s singing your praises again.

The heat of it all is quickly becoming too much, and you can see he’s losing himself as well, as his thrusts become even faster and his hand tightens around your hips. The fire moves through you without mercy, pleasure blinding you and taking your breath away as you come cum on his cock. He follows soon after, and you can feel warm spurts of cum fill you as he moans loudly against your ear. When he does, he falls backwards into the pile of treasure behind him, taking you with him. He doesn’t pull out for a moment as he pulls you close, tucking you into him and pressing your head into his chest. His heart is pounding, his skin is on fire, and his breaths are unsteady. He’s come fully and truly undone.

You don’t know if it’s minutes or hours that you lay there before he pulls out. You feel horribly empty when he does, cum dripping out of you onto his thighs. He laughs when you whine.

“I hope you’re prepared, treasure. We have a wonderful time ahead of us.” His grin is all teeth, his pupils retracting back into slits, and you’re forced to remember once again there is nothing human about the thing sitting beneath you. “You’re going to love being mine.”

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

#ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #one piece smut #ace x y/n #ace x you #portgas d ace #ace one piece #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace smut #ace smut #one piece #one piece x reader

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moonstruckme · 28 days ago

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Hi I just discovered your blog and i’m obsessed with your writing, like the talent?? unmatched.

Could you do a longer fic about doctor remus and reader? Maybe he is graduating from med school and reader is so excited and proud of him and being insistent on taking a million pictures of him in his graduation gown? Or reader is pregnant and he is total helicopter parent, making sure he is up to date on everything and knows all the proper procedures for keeping their baby safe?

Or honestly anything!! I love your writing :)

Thank you sooooo much

Hi lovely! I realize you asked for a longer fic and this is not that, but thank you for the idea and I hope you like it anyway :)

med student!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 434 words

“Dove.” Remus sounds exasperated, but he’s smiling. “That’s enough.”

“Just a few more,” you negotiate. You’re standing outside the venue of your boyfriend’s graduation ceremony, forcing him to pose in front of a fountain. “Throw your cap in the air!”

“I’m not doing that.”

“C’mon, be a sport,” James urges him.

“I think, traditionally, you’re not supposed to do that until after the ceremony.”

“Oh, traditionally,” Sirius drawls. “He goes and gets a fancy degree, and now he’s all about convention and decorum. What a tosser.”

Remus snickers, and Sirius grins. “There, do it, do it!”

You snap as many pictures as you can get of Remus smiling, though he rolls his eyes once he realizes he’s fallen for a ploy.

“Alright,” he argues, blushing. “You’ve already taken pictures at home, and again on the way here. How much storage can you possibly have left?”

“Enough for pictures of you walking the stage,” you say. “We’ll need some after the ceremony, too.”

Remus heaves a long-suffering, and you laugh.

“It’s an occasion! We’re going to want pictures of you in your cap and gown.”

He gives the large gown he’s wearing a distasteful glance. It’s more of a robe, really, with velvet trim and large, billowy sleeves. “I look like a pompous prick.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” says Sirius.

“Piss off.”

“You look distinguished,” you say. “And handsome.”

“He is handsome.” James reaches forward, pinching Remus’ cheek and giving it a little shake before his hand is knocked away. “He’s our handsome guy.”

“Ooh.” Sirius points to some trees in front of the building. “That lighting looks nice. Maybe we should get a few there.”

“No,” says Remus, at the same time as you clap your hands and say, “Perfect!”

He sighs again. “Fine. But those are the last ones. Then we go inside.”

“Deal.” You take his hand, drawing him close as you walk towards the new spot. “Thanks for humoring us. We’re proud of you, you know?”

“Thanks, dove.” He drops a kiss on your head, cheeks glowing pink. “I’m glad you—careful.” He catches you as the heel of your shoe gets caught in a crack in the pavement. “You’ll break your neck.”

“He knows that sort of thing now,” you boast to Sirius and James. “He’s a doctor.”

“Not until after the ceremony,” James teases.

“Handsome, distinguished, and educated.” Sirius whistles. “You really snagged a good one, babe.”

“You’re all ridiculous,” Remus mumbles embarrassedly.

“I know,” you chirp as if he hasn’t spoken. You go up on your toes, pressing your lips to his cheekbone. “Sorry, boys, he’s all mine.”

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shuafiles · 2 months ago

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juno [h.js]

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | one of me is cute, but two though? give it to me baby

PAIRING | nonidol/fiance!joshua x afab!reader

CONTENT | unprotected sex (pls stay safe), fingering, few degrading names, use of handcuffs, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, just smut in general lol. lowercase intended

WORDS | 2.6k

A/N | inspired by juno by sabrina carpenter, highly recommend listening to it while reading. have fun babes!

joshua was perfect. it was no surprise that when he asked you to marry him, you said yes with no hesitation. even after four years of dating, he knew how to keep you off your feet, he knew how to love you right, and he knew how to fuck you right.

even out of your past relationships, no one knew how to make you feel good as much as joshua did. which is why you couldn’t help but stare at him as he took group pictures with his friends.

you were at a bar with his friends to celebrate seungcheol’s birthday. joshua was wearing a white button-up with the sleeves tucked up to his arms, which you couldn't help but go insane at. you don't know what it is, he has looked the same as he pretty much has all the four years you have known him, but somehow he looked even hotter than you could ever imagine. before leaving the apartment, you were already in a needy mood from watching your fiance prepare for this party. he was trying on different shirts in front of you and was asking for your opinions on them, even though you’d rather he just take them off.

you were pulled out of your thoughts when you spotted joshua walking towards you with a sweet grin on his face. you reciprocated his smile, his hand reaching your waist once he was near you.

“hi, beautiful.” joshua kissed you on the forehead, which sent sparks all over your body. “enjoying yourself?” his thumb rubbed circles on your waist, a small habit he found himself doing a lot once his hands were near your body. you already were in a dizzy state from the mere sight of him, him touching you in any way made you feel like your body was on fire. maybe you were ovulating?

cheeks flushed, you hummed in response, putting your drink down on the bar and admiring his slicked-back hair with strands falling off on the side. this was one of your top five favorite looks of him. he looked so sexy tonight, even with the dim lights of the club, you could make out the way his lips looked so plump and kissable, you couldn’t wait to just kiss the fuck out of him when the two of you are finally in private.

“y/n! joshua!” a distant voice called out, leaning your head towards the voice, you saw a very drunk seungcheol making his way towards the both of you, a small gift bag in hand. halting in front of you, a cheeky smile on his face. “here’s a little thank you for coming to my party tonight, " he said, handing you the bag, a confused look on your face, glancing over joshua, who just shrugged at you. you took the bag from his hand, peeking over the top to see the contents inside.

pink fluffy handcuffs. that’s what was inside the gift bag. you couldn’t help but laugh at the silly gift. “really, cheol?” handing joshua the bag so he could check it out for himself.

“i want all my guests to have a fun afterparty!” he said, wrapping his arms around joshua’s shoulder. as much as the gift was indeed silly, you couldn’t help but imagine joshua using them on you in bed as if you weren’t already craving for him.

joshua smirked, eyes facing you. as if he could read your mind, he leaned in your ear. “can’t wait to try them out tonight.” making your stomach flip.

the entire ride home, joshua was teasing the hell out of you. his hand on your thigh while the other was on the steering wheel, sliding it down dangerously near your cunt. the little shit knew what he was doing, complementing you the entire time, telling you how your ass looked great in your red dress. he even mentioned the stupid pink handcuffs, asking if you were down to use it. you were more than down, of course, it wasn’t the first time you and joshua were going to incorporate toys into your sex life. but you couldn’t wait for the ride to end because you were so fucking horny, and he was all to blame.

you barely made it past your apartment door, and your lips were already attached to your irritatingly handsome fiance. he reciprocated your hunger, his hands roaming all over your body, pushing your coat off of your shoulders before settling his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“what got you so worked up, princess?” he whispered, flipping you around so your back was against the door. your hands reached up to unbutton his shirt, his head leaning down to nuzzle his face on your neck, leaving soft kisses against it. you were too embarrassed to admit that you were just adoring him and got yourself horny.

successfully unbuttoning the last button, joshua lifted his head and tapped your thighs before helping you wrap your legs around his waist. he guided you towards your shared bedroom, grabbing the small gift bag dangling from your wrist and throwing it on the bed. he gently propped you down on the edge of the bed and kneeled in front of you, eyes lustfully trained on you. you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of him, his unbuttoned shirt giving you a peek of his toned chest. his hand made its way to your ankle, unclasping the lock of your heels. of course, he had to be a romantic lover. you kicked the heels off your feet, grazing his fingers on your feet, up to your thigh as he stood up. you felt a pool gather at your underwear.

“shua…” you whimpered. he shrugged his shirt off, leaving him in his black slacks. his hard cock evident against his pants. you wanted nothing more than to stuff your mouth with his thick cock.

“look at you, you’re practically drooling.” his finger hooked the strap of your dress, dragging it down your shoulder in an awfully slow manner. you glared at his pace, which he only chuckled at. “patience, princess.” your dress was now resting on your waist, boobs on full display which made joshua lick his lips. “beautiful.” he walked in between your legs, hand reaching to the nape of your neck, leaning down and pulling you into a sweet kiss. you reached up to undo the latch of his belt, excitement roaring throughout your body at the thought of finally having him after an entire day of endless torture. he pulled away from you, chuckling when you were obviously having a hard time getting rid of his damned belt, aiding you in removing the belt away from his pants.

joshua walked away from you, making you frown, but he just circled the bed to grab the gift bag that was discarded on the bed. returning to you, he sat next to you, patting his lap for you to climb into. you stood up, your dress falling to your feet, leaving you in just your lacy underwear. you sat on his lap, straddling his legs, feeling his hardened cock against your still clothed core. you whimpered at the sensation, jerking your hips forward to feel some kind of friction, making joshua tut.

“what an impatient little slut, hm? i bet you can’t wait for my cock to be stuffed in you, is that right, princess?” you couldn't care less about how pathetic you looked right now, you needed to be fucked by him badly.

“i need you so bad, shua.” you whined, placing your hands against his chest. your core practically aching with need.

“since you said it so nicely.” he supported you by your ass, flipping you around so that you were laying on the bed. he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sliding them off of him. his cock practically begging to come out of the restraints, which were his boxers. you bit your lip at the sight of him, wanting nothing more than to bury his cock in your mouth. his body hovered over you, climbing in between your legs, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips before his mouth trailed over to your jaw, neck, and finally, your breasts. he enclosed one of your nipples with his mouth, swirling his tongue over the sensitive bud while his hand kneaded your other breast, fingers toying with the nipple. you moaned at the sight of him desperately licking your breast, hand flying to grip his hair.

“fuck, baby.” you gasped as he gently used his teeth on your nipple, feeling him smile against you. pulling away, he reached for the handcuff that was inside the bag.

“hands above your head, princess,” he ordered, and you followed quickly; you absolutely loved it when joshua took command in the bedroom. he wrapped the fuzzy handcuff around both your wrists, not before leaving a gentle kiss on your hand. “tell me if it’s uncomfortable, hm?”

“shut up and fuck me already.” joshua laughed, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs and discarding them somewhere in the room. he circled his fingers around your clit, which made you shiver. he lined his index finger in your entrance, sliding your wetness between your folds and up to your clit, rubbing it just enough to drive you crazy. teasing you, he lightly inserted the tip of his finger before quickly pulling out, which made you gasp. “shua, please.” you pleaded, and he finally inserted two digits in your entrance without saying anything. soft whimpers escaped your lips, as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, slightly curling it every so often.

“you like that, baby? look at you, you're a whimpering mess just because of my fingers.” his gaze on you intense, as he quickened his pace. his thumb toying with your clit as he moved his fingers inside you. your hands fell to wrap it around his neck, but he grabbed your arm and returned it above your head. “if you move, i’ll stop.” you nodded. throwing your head back and arching your back when he added another finger. he attached his lips to your breast that was in his face, lapping the nipple around his tongue which drove you over the edge.

“oh my god! that feels so good, please, baby.” jerking your hips upwards to meet his hand.

“fuck, baby, your pussy’s always so tight for me, huh?” you felt an all-familiar knot gather at your stomach, and joshua must have felt that you were close because he picked up his pace even more. “so perfect, so needy for me. how bad do you want to cum, baby?” his eyes trained on you as you could barely keep yours open.

“so bad, baby, p-please let me cum. i want you to fuck me already.” joshua leaned down and placed kisses on your neck, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers as he repeatedly hit the spongy part that makes you dizzy.

“you take my fingers so well, princess.” grabbing your hand, he placed it against his clothed bludge. “can’t wait to have my cock inside you. come on, baby, cum for me.” that was all you needed to hear before you felt your inside explode, moaning his name as you came undone on his fingers. pulling his fingers out, he brought them to his mouth, collecting your juices with his tongue, not wasting a single drop. your body still recovering from the high you felt

when joshua was finally done, he pulled away from your body and removed his boxers. his cock springing against his stomach, all hard and spurts of pre-cum dripping from the head. he wrapped his hand around the shaft, pumping it a few times before reaching up to your wrists. he unlocked the cuffs, hands gently rubbing the skin that was in contact with it. he returned his position over your body, hands on either side of your head as he attached his lips to yours once again. feeling his cock graze your cunt.

“wanna fuck you so bad,” joshua whispered against your lips, gripping his cock with one hand as he rubbed the head against your folds. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you? you’re such a slut for my cock, huh?” he pushed his cock into you, your mouth falling open into a silent gasp at the sudden sensation. you have been waiting for him all day and now you have finally received your wish. he stops inside you for a second to let you adjust, but it doesn’t take long before he starts moving in and out of you. “so fucking tight for me.” he groaned, grabbing your legs and pushing it against your shoulder as he repeatedly rammed his cock against you.

“o-oh my god, josh.” grabbing a fistful of sheets as you felt his cock kiss your cervix from the position you were in. his every thrust left you breathless, panting his name as he quickened his pace. sweat was forming on joshua’s forehead, his free hand sneaking down to your clit, rubbing circles that made you see stars.

“i fucking love your tight pussy, baby.” crying out for him as he leaned down to kiss you while continuing his thrusts. you felt your second orgasm forming at your stomach, which caused you to bite his lip lightly. “mhm want to come inside you, baby. let me make you pregnant.” he grunted against you which made you even more wet, if that was even possible.

you moaned at the thought of joshua filling you up. you loved him, and you couldn't wait to marry him. giving him a baby was definitely one of your plans, so it did not faze you when he wanted to do just that.

“make me a mommy, shua.” you managed to let out, which made joshua smile. he pulled his cock away completely before slamming it inside you without warning, making you throw your head back.

“good girl, take my fucking cock, baby.” the pained pleasure of his cock repeatedly hitting your cervix brought tears to your eyes. it hurts so fucking good.

joshua’s eyes focused on your tits that were bouncing with every thrust of his. you looked perfect taking in his cock so well. you would look even better with his cum spilling inside your pussy.

“baby, i can’t–” you cried out, your hands gripping his shoulders. walls clenching around his cock, as your orgasm forms around your belly. he straightened his body, his hands guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. his pace absolutely addicting as you felt his dick twitch inside you.

“fuck! baby, i'm so close.” his thrusts got sloppy as he neared his climax. you turned into putty under his grip as he fucked you through your orgasm. chanting his name as you came for the second time. seconds later, you felt his warm cum paint inside your walls. “god, i love you.” he groaned, leaning down to desperately kiss you.

after a few moments, he pulled his cock out of you, cum spilling out of you. he dragged his fingers into your entrance to push back the cum that was dripping out, which made you jump.

joshua laughed, “sorry, baby. wouldn’t want to waste a drop for mommy.” his body dropping beside you, pulling your body close to his chest. “did you mean it? do you want to start a family with me?” wrapping his fingers with yours.

“of course i do. one of me is cute, but two though? i bet we’d be even cuter.”

#hong joshua #seventeen #svt #joshua imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #joshua smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #hong joshua imagines #hong joshua smut #hong jisoo

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hwallazia · 2 months ago

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ANGELS IN TIBET – 송민기

synopsis . in which mingi clearly can’t keep it inside his pants. not even at the cinema.

pairing . song mingi & fem! reader

genre . smut (mdni!), established relationship, non idol!au.

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho @yyaurii | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 1,7k

DISCLAIMER! dom! mingi , sub! reader , exhibitionism , cockwarming in a public space , clit play , reverse cowgirl position , mocking , dirty talk , praise , pet names (dove, good girl, babe & more) , wet kisses ooh , mingi is desperate for yn’s touch and attention.

NIC’S NOTES this was a request that i’ve had pending since april i think? and i’m so sorry for not working on it until now (like fr i’m beyond embarrassed, anon pls forgive me) but she’s finally here! as well as me hehe, i’m trying to get back on track with writing, it’ll take some time tho. for now, enjoy this, loves <3

mingi’s behavior could be defined as needy.

he swung his arm swiftly across your shoulders, keeping you safe and close next to him — close enough to smell his faint natural, manly and rich scent. he kept throwing his head on the crook on your neck and then lifting it, then letting it fall down your shoulder’s blade. why was he so impatient?

you tried to remain calm and pay attention to the damn movie playing in front of your eyes until mingi’s nth sigh struck your peaceful state of mind. “mingi, what’s wrong?”

your soft, low question made him tilt his head up, once again. “nothing.” his short reply caused your eyes to narrow almost shut — which he probably didn’t get to observe since the darkness of the theatre blurred some of each other’s features. an even quieter “then quit squirming” came from your lips and mingi jutted his bottom lip. “but i’m cooold.” he whined in response.

thankfully he didn’t see your eyeroll because he prolly would’ve scattered in tears on the spot. “how can you be cold when you have a big ass jacket on?” you paused, turning your body to analyze his perfectly covered figure. “and a sweater underneath it?” you deadpanned.

“do i look like i know?” he huffed, placing his head back into the juncture of your neck — might as well be a single organ now. “i just feel cold and i’m looking for my beloved girlfriend’s comfortable warmth. is that too much to ask?”

“but how do you want me to—” your complaint was cut out by the loud, clearly annoyed shush of the old lady sitting below the two of you. she angled her body so her bothered gaze met yours, her wrinkles were palpable thanks to the dim, yet shiny lighting provided by the projector. you mouthed an apology and gave her your most sweet, sheepish smile. her soft huff reached your ears and embarrassment spread all over your cheekbones.

“see? now the old lady is pissed at us because of you.” mingi dared to open his mouth and your head gyrated slowly, almost in a comedic motion, and he nearly let out his squeaky laugh at the sight of your unbelievable facet, jaw hang open comically.

“how dare you.” you quipped; eyelids almost closing your eyes as if you were ready to object, yet you remained quiet. you repositioned your figure towards the projected screen, causing mingi to abandon the occupied place. vague and nearly lifeless brain cells tried to recollect and understand what had happened during the time you drifted away from the movie.

mingi’s soft, low chuckle summoned the chilliest of goosebumps creeping down your spine, a slight arch going unseen. “don’t be like that, babe.” he reached for the side of your shoulder to squeeze it and to resume your last position; nose nestling on the lateral part of your neck again. he let a trail of wet, romantic kisses all along the valley of your neck, your ticklish skin made your body squirm and giggle quietly.

“mingi—stop.” you muttered between little and nearly inaudible squeaks, a childish and wholesome smile drawn across your lips. something that mingi could see up close.

he’s just so in love with you. so madly in love.

mingi stopped for a moment, letting your hyperventilated self calm down; sweet strokes, provided by fingers full of affection, were present on the side of your shoulder.

“hey babe?” he hushed in a certain tone. a chilly, gravelly voice scraping through you.

“hm?”

“i think i know a way you can warm me up.”

his mouth paced throughout the length of your neck to land a kiss on its soft flesh before flying to the shell of your ear; an enchanting shudder of anticipation exciting you already. “care to share with the class?”

your words, enveloped in a velvety hue of seduction, caused the little hairs placed on his nape to stand on end. he hummed in satisfaction before responding. “you fancy trying something new, dove?”

one moment, you were cuddling with your boyfriend in the cinema’s seats, watching the movie you had paid for. the next, you were cockwarming his girthy length — don’t worry! the folds of your loose, white skirt hid it perfectly. how sinful it was for a pearl-like fabric to cover such a lewd scene.

your walls clenched and relaxed against the sides of his cock every now and then from the excitement and adrenaline. plus, mingi moved incessantly, excusing himself by implying “he had a cramp” or he was “getting comfy”. if only the old lady could see that you and mingi could ruin a movie screening in more ways than just talking.

mingi’s low grunts tensed your limbs, your mind floating around already. his cock tip kissed your cervix deliciously; white spots filling your dark irises. “fuck, babe. so tight and wet f’me.” his grip on your trembling hip growing stronger as you greedily sucked him whole. “didn’t think you’d be up for this. y’ know, since you’re so shy” he mocked pathetically, whining like you would now if it weren’t for the place where this was taking action.

his big hands abandoned your shuddering hips, swiftly moving under your plush thighs; slim fingers curling up your flesh. you knew he wanted you to move, his uneven breathing and a slight tug on your skin gave him away so easily. but fuck, you couldn’t bring yourself to quench his desire — you already felt too exposed by just cockwarming him. your breath hitched as you clamped onto him involuntarily, your squishy insides making mingi melt in satisfaction. the lowest of grunts fanned against your earlobe.

you couldn’t help the tiny mewl that slipped off your tongue. fuck, everything was starting to be too much.

and mingi’s fingers crawling their way to your swollen clit didn’t make it any better.

your shameless, pathetic moan startled the elderly woman seated a few rows down. again, she gyrated her core to stare in your direction, unamused of the interruption, but before she could meet your eyes, you hid your flushed face in the crook of mingi’s defined neck; teeth digging into the plump flesh of your lips to mute your whimpers and tiny cries from the old woman’s seemly acute hearing.

mingi’s index and middle fingers didn’t stop working on your sensitive bud, but they did slow down their pace, setting now a very tortuous tempo; exasperated exhales fanned against his neck. mingi’s dark, lust-filled irises met the aged woman’s eyes, which were pouring annoyance.

his unbusy hand pointed at the screen, showing fake interest. “this movie’s real good.” he expressed, approvingly. at this rate, an oscar should be given to mingi because of his ability to remain with a calm demeanor given the circumstances. don’t get him wrong though, it took everything from him not to tell the lady to fuck off and let you and him be.

the elderly lady squinted her small eyes with disapproval — not that mingi gave a damn — and finally turned to face the projected screen once again. a quiet, soft exhale was released through mingi’s nostrils, his attention now fully focused back on you.

his deep, masculine tone rumbled through his core, and shivers were sent directly down your spine. “c’mon, angel. pay attention, i didn’t spend money on these tickets for nothing” he hummed, the intention of teasing was painted in his tone as clear as water. “or is it that you’re gonna cum?”

“ming—ngh! i—i’m s’ close. so fuckin’ close” you exhaled. “faster, fuck—please, faster” you settled your head, so it rested on his shoulder. he didn’t miss the chance to shower your exposed neck with wet, lascivious kisses while whispering the dirtiest things right on your ear.

“well aren’t you a greedy little thing?” mingi cooed at you mockingly one more time and with your bothered and high pitched, yet quiet whimper, he chuckled. “’s okay, babe, gonna give you just what you deserve for being such a good girl.”

your gummy walls clenched around his hardened shaft multiple times as his fingers played with your plush clit like a guitar in a relentless pace.

“let me see you fall apart.” he muttered with the huskiest voice known to men, and with his cock filling you to the brim and his skillful phalanges driving you straight to the abyss perfectly, you reached a satisfying peak, crying out mingi’s name. he didn’t stop his sloppy movements though, completely committed to drawing out the sensation for as long as possible and when you finally felt completely sated, you let your trembling core collapse against mingi’s strong chest.

his hands didn’t hesitate to wrap around your body, a trail of the sweetest praises showering you entirely. a giddy smile was drawn on your lips — your red, swollen and probably broken lip.

when the movie ended, you and your boyfriend made your way to the exit door, coincidentally meeting the hunchbacked old woman face to face. of course, you earned yet another displeased glance.

as you walked toward your apartment, mingi couldn’t help but remember the event that had happened not long ago and decided to express exasperatedly “oh my god, i was ’boutta throw hands with that nosy ass woman.”

you snorted at his comment. “mingi, she’s a poor old lady that just wanted to enjoy the movie in peace and not having to deal with a horny couple of teenagers.”

“babe, we ain’t teenagers. we’re wayyy past our twenties.” he stated the obvious.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “yeah, well, you sure don’t act like it sometimes. who picks a fight with an old lady during a rom-com?”

mingi chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “she started it! i was just trying to give you a little—”

“—a little what?” you interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “a little public embarrassment? because mission accomplished.”

he smirked, leaning closer. “can’t deny you didn’t like it.”

you huffed, trying to suppress a smile. “you and your little horny and helpless self… always getting us into trouble.”

mingi shrugged, unbothered. “i don’t regret a thing.”

“just... try not to traumatize any more old ladies, okay?” you teased, lightly tapping his arm.

“deal,” he said with a grin, wrapping his arm around you. “but no promises if they keep interrupting my movie time with you.”

“what do you mean? we didn’t even watch the movie!”

| masterlist

#© hwallazia #ateez #ateez smut #song mingi #ateez mingi #mingi smut #song mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi scenarios #mingi fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic

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russo-woso · 4 months ago

Text

I need help || Leah Williamson

Request | Masterlist | prompt list

Warning smut 18+, cunnilingus

Summary Pregnancy brings many different feelings, some where you need help.

You were coming up six months pregnant.

Although the pregnancy had been a smooth process so far, there were a few downfalls that made it hard.

For instance, your emotions.

The hormones had thrown your hormones everywhere.

One minute, you were crying, the second you were smiling and laughing.

But there was one emotion that came quite often and was strong.

You were always horny.

But you pushed it to the side, thinking it would hurt the baby.

However, one day when a strong need crashed over you, you googled it, reading that it was perfectly normal to feel how you did and that it was safe for the baby.

That night, you laid in bed next to Leah, partly naked due to her having given you a massage.

Still horny as ever, You rested your head on Leah’s chest, your hand rubbing up and down her side.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Leah asked, clearly noticing something’s wrong.

“I need you, Leah.” You whisper, connecting your lips together in a passionate kiss.

“Babe, we can’t…” Leah began but you cut her off by kissing her again.

“We can. I googled it. It’s safe for bubba.” You told her with a firm voice.

“What about you though. The last time we did something, you were in pain.” Leah pointed out, pulling you onto her lap.

“Yes I was a bit uncomfortable but I want this Leah, I need it.” You explained and she nodded understanding the situation.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll help you. I’ll find a way. Come, lay down on the bed.” Leah said, helping you lay down, your back hitting the pillows gently.

Leah pressed a soft kiss to your jaw, your body melting into the bed at the feeling.

You’d wanted this for months and it was finally happening.

Her lips trailed down to your neck, softly sucking at your sweet spot.

“Feels good.” You murmured, your hand striking her baby hairs on her neck.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby. So good.”

“Please do, le.”

Leah’s lips travelled down your bump until they were at the top of your bump.

“Maybe close your ears for a while, bubba.” Leah whispered, a smirk resting on her lips.

Pressing a feather light kiss to your bump, she spread your knees apart.

“Keep them there, love.” Leah said

“Fuck.” You gasped as you felt Leah’s tongue connect with your clit.

Lapping over it gently, Leah reached up to hold your hands, her thumbs rubbing over them delicately.

“That feels so good, le. Please don’t stop.” You told her, gripping her hands.

“Tastes so good.” Leah mumbled, groaning into your pussy.

“Le, my back hurts.” You said, moving your back to try get comfortable.

“Okay, baby. Just a minute.” Leah smiled, reaching over to put more pillows behind your back.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, embarrassed.

“Don’t say sorry, pretty girl.” Leah pressed a kiss to your chest before lowering herself.

Gently placing a kiss to your clit, she began to suck making you let out a cry.

“Fuck, right there.” You groaned, reaching out to grab her hair. “Please don’t stop, le.”

“I won’t, pretty girl, I promise.” Leah said, vibrations coursing through your body.

“I’m so close.” You warned her, pushing her head more into your pussy.

“Cum, love, cum for me.”

That’s all it took. Your juices flowed into Leah’s awaiting mouth.

“Fuck.” You breathed out, a relieved smile on your face.

“Feel better?” Leah asked and you nodded immediately.

“Loads, thank you, le.”

“I wasn’t too hard was I?” Leah questioned, coming to lay down next to you.

“You were perfect.” You replied, resting a hand on her cheek and slowly bringing her in for a slow kiss.

“I love you and our bubba.” Leah mumbled against your lips as she broke away from the kiss.

“We love you too.”

#woso x reader #woso #woso community #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso smut #leah williamson fluff #leah williamson smut #leah williamson fanfic

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fortunxa · 4 months ago

Text

Fourteen days

[sequel to ‘Blue hair, blue eyes, blue lights’]

Jinx x fem!reader / modern AU

summary: They say the longer the wait, the sweeter the kiss. But, darling, I’m starving, so don’t keep me guessing.

cw: around 4k words but could be mediocre, mild nsfw

author’s note: I’m alive! Sorry for the delay in posting, I’ve been hustling :( But here’s the awaited sequel, so buckle up ;)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“Uno, motherfucker!”

Jinx is… competitive, to say the least. As of right now, we’re lying on my bed, legs tangled, and playing UNO while it’s pouring outside. It’s well past midnight, and I stopped trying to shush her victory cheers after the second round. She has a way of making her presence known and commanding your attention, but truthfully, she isn’t hard to miss anyway. Every aspect of her exudes an unapologetic ‘Look at me!’ aura—from her infectious laughter to her bold fashion sense. Even her braids have a life of their own, swirling and swaying with every step she takes. She’s unforgettable.

But I’ve come to discover a more delicate side of her in her most vulnerable moments. It’s almost like she transforms into a different person, both in terms of her personality and, surprisingly, her appearance. Her features become softer, more child-like, her eyes wide and innocent. The way she effortlessly switches from one persona to the other is impressive to witness. On the flip side, she has a tendency to become obsessive and possessive, which resulted in us spending almost every waking moment together. You may call me crazy, but it makes me feel needed. Ultimately, isn’t that what we all want?

These are just a few of the observations I’ve made about her in the past two weeks. My mind’s file on her is growing exponentially, tucking away every information I learn about her in a safe place—from her preference for orange juice but hate for oranges to her strained relationship with her older sister, which makes my room the designated hangout spot whenever we’re stuck inside. Jinx is a complex person with many layers, and while I can’t claim to know everything about her just yet, I do feel like I have built a stable foundation of understanding what makes her unique. I certainly know enough to start falling for her.

“Alright, alright, you win. Again,” I say with a small smile playing on my lips and twenty cards in my hands. My phone is buzzing beside me—probably another message from my mom asking us to be quieter—and I ignore it. I still remember her face when she asked us how we met, and Jinx jumped up, telling her all about the police chase, earning a nudge in the ribs from me. It’s a miracle she still lets us hang out, but with the number of times the blue-haired girl sneaked in through my window, I don’t think it would’ve changed much if she didn’t.

I feel a yawn building up, but before it reaches the surface, I’m pinned against my bed. “And what do I get for winning?” Jinx teases as she straddles my hips, and I certainly feel awake now. Another thing that I learned about her is how touchy she gets, but it still catches me off-guard at times. My heart rate quickens, and I’m sure she feels it pulsating through my wrists. She smirks at my dumbfounded expression and lowers herself even more, brushing her nose against mine. “Cat got your tongue?”

This proximity between us takes me back to the night we met when we almost shared a kiss. Fucking almost. Although I’m familiar with many aspects of her, I’m still a stranger to the way she tastes. Is it sweet like the Skittles she keeps stealing from me or, on the contrary, sour like the Warheads? Perhaps it carries the freshness of her toothpaste or the fruity allure of her cherry-flavored chapstick. I need an answer to the question that’s been consuming my thoughts as of late, and I need it now.

Just when I’m about to get it, my phone buzzes again, and—you guessed it—Jinx pulls away and casually snatches it off the bed, reading the message. I feel like I’m about to explode.

“Aw, why didn’t you tell me that we woke your mom up?” she innocently asks as I stare at the ceiling with a blank look. I suddenly feel self-conscious. Maybe I was misunderstanding our connection since the beginning. Maybe she never wanted us to take it further. And maybe this is another thing that I need to learn about her—she’s just flirty, and there’s no ulterior motive behind her actions. How fucking stupid was I to think otherwise? I’d be fine if she wanted to stay friends, but this whole teasing is starting to make me feel like a toy. I need clarity.

“I guess I was too focused on our game,” I finally mutter as a reply, putting the UNO deck away before standing up to grab us two fresh pairs of pj’s. When I turn to face her again, she’s already watching me with a worried expression.

“You okay, toots?” I’m not. Jinx walks over, and her bare feet make a thumping sound across my carpet. She positions herself in front of me as her eyes analyze my demeanor, and I feel vulnerable under her scrutinizing gaze. I wonder if now’s the time to be open about my feelings, but as I take in her cerulean eyes—I stopped calling them blue as they’re so, so much more than that—I can’t bring myself to face the rejection.

My cowardice wins.

“I’m fine,” I say with a tight-lipped smile before presenting her with a nightshirt. She opens her mouth, presumably to push her investigation further, but decides against it. Her eyebrows knit together at the newfound awkwardness.

We change into our nightwear, and Jinx snuggles under the comforter while I head to turn off the lights. I remember her fear of the dark, and quickly turn on the nightlight, casting a soft pink glow across the room. I find myself wondering if she cares enough to remember the little things about me, too. I slide into bed alongside her, making sure to maintain a respectful distance between us. The air is filled with an uncharacteristic silence, broken only by the gentle patter of raindrops outside and our quiet breaths.

I flip on my side, my back toward Jinx as I try to fall asleep. I can sense her restless shuffling as she tries to find a comfortable position before she settles by wrapping her arms around my torso. She’s flush against me, and I let out a sigh—screw it. I turn around and face her before pulling her frame into my chest. Her grip tightens, and a shuddering breath escapes past her lips. I’m not a mind reader, but I know that the sudden sour mood brought her feelings of uneasiness, and a plethora of negative thoughts, igniting her own insecurities. I rest my cheek on top of her head and close my eyes. My hand finds its way into her hair, and I start massaging her scalp gently. When she finally relaxes, it doesn’t take long for me to hear her soft snores.

I don’t remember dozing off, but the morning light filtering through my window comes too early as I slowly flutter my eyes open. My eyelids feel heavy, and my bed is unexpectedly empty, fueling my disoriented state. I sit up groggily and rub the sleep from my face before scanning the room in hopes of catching a glimpse of Jinx, but she’s nowhere to be found.

Right as I’m about to sink into self-pity over her Irish goodbye, my bedroom door suddenly bursts open. I jump, and my tired eyes lock with her cheerful ones. I guess she never left after all.

“You’re finally awake! Good morning!” she exclaims with a radiant smile while skipping over to me, her slightly gapped teeth proudly on display. Her braids are tousled from sleep as she settles on the edge of the bed, presenting me with a plate of freshly made chocolate chip pancakes. “Made your favorite. And don’t worry, I already cleaned up,” she adds, and my heart swells as my eyes flicker between her and the breakfast she prepared. She does the same, a giddy smile on her face and her lower lip caught between her teeth. Yet, as I remain silent, her shoulders slump and the sparkle dims, replaced by a nervous fidgeting of her hands. “It’s okay if you don’t like–”

I interrupt her by pulling her into a tight embrace, expressing my gratitude. At first, Jinx is taken aback, but she soon returns the hug, burying her face into my neck. The scent of vanilla extract lingers in her hair—probably from messing with it during her cooking—and her skin radiates an unusual warmth, bringing a small smile to my face.

“Okay, trinket. Dig in and get some energy,” she says, pulling away as she walks over to my vanity mirror and starts unbraiding her hair. Well, don’t mind if I do. “It’s your college move-in day after all!” She giggles happily, and I almost choke at her words. It isn’t just move-in day; it’s my imaginary deadline of making her mine slowly ending. Despite my lack of progress, she has kept her word in showing me fun—however this friendship goes, I will be sure that I’ve felt alive at least once in my life.

“Shit, I forgot! What time is it?” I scramble to find my phone, which has been lost somewhere under the pillows. I leap to my feet, unsure of what to grab first as I start flailing around. “I still need to finish packing and–and load the boxes into the car, and I–”

“Woah, slow down!” Jinx grabs my shoulders and grounds me in the middle of the room. She takes a deep breath and urges me to mirror her actions. “What am I here for?” Her hands trail up my neck and rest on my jawline, leaving me breathless again. “Finish eating first, then we can worry about the rest. Capiche?” I nod, and she pats my cheek with a grin. “Good girl.”

I’m left flustered, and she resumes untangling her hair as if she didn’t just say the hottest shit I have ever heard in my life. I try to keep my cool and finish my breakfast, but my imagination is running wild with all the scenarios I could be a good girl in. I pick out some fresh clothes for the day, trying my best to act casual while my thoughts are anything but.

“I’m just going to freshen up. I’ll be back in a few,” I say and head to the bathroom, hoping that a cold shower would tame my heat. But, on the other hand, there’s a part of me that’s begging for her to join and do it for me.

She never does—obviously—but I come back with a clearer head. Jinx’s hair is now completely down, her vibrant blue waves cascading to the floor. I see her struggle to part it evenly and decide to step up.

“Here, let me help you,” I offer as I gently take the comb from her hands, carefully brushing out any leftover knots before dividing her hair into two even sections. As I work on the base of the first braid, I steal glances at her in the mirror’s reflection. Her eyes are closed, and she occasionally lets out content hums, seemingly lost in thought.

“For the record, toots,” she speaks up as she now deftly weaves the second braid with practiced fingers, “I don’t let just anyone touch my hair.” My brain is slowly putting the meaning behind her words together, and a smile tugs at my lips as realization dawns on me—I’m special. Despite my best efforts, I fail to conceal my grin. Jinx communicates a lot through body language, so when she explicitly says what’s on her mind, it stuns me a bit.

“So, I’m not just anyone, huh?” I tease and concentrate on finishing the braid.

“Clearly you’re my getaway driver,” she retorts with a smirk, and I nudge her shoulder.

Once we’re done working on her hair, we begin filling up the boxes and clearing out most of my room. It’s a mix of emotions knowing that I’m moving away, even if it's only temporary. But what really tugs at the strings of my heart is the thought of not being able to spend as much time with the blue-haired troublemaker. With my upcoming college schedule and her still torn between taking a gap year or not, the idea of our bond weakening is the most difficult part to imagine. If I’m lucky, perhaps life will allow our connection to endure and flourish.

“Sheesh, I don’t remember packing rocks. Did you?” Jinx huffs as she loads the last box into my car. I laugh and shut the trunk.

“It’s my books, dummy,” I reply and get behind the wheel as she takes the passenger seat.

“At least you’ll be too busy reading to hook up with anyone,” she mutters, connecting my phone to the car, and my cheeks flush. Totally normal thing to say to a friend.

The song Jinx chose is blasting through the speakers as I pull off. We fall silent, but I can see her bopping her head to the music in the corner of my eye, lost in her own world with her feet on the dashboard, which she had decorated ‘the Jinx way’ as she called it. Meanwhile, I’m filled with embarrassment as I realize that I haven’t even checked the released college roommate assignments. How awkward will it be if I introduce myself to my bunk buddy after moving in? On a scale of one to ten, I deem it a seven. I don’t even remember filling out the housing application, for fuck’s sake.

We’re halfway there when we decide to take a quick pit stop, and I pull over on a backroad underneath a row of trees. Jinx gets out of the car with an indecipherable expression, and I follow in confusion. I’m no stranger to her mood swings, but I still get concerned. She’s walking around in circles, kicking at the dirt and stray rocks caught in the crossfire of her boots. When I open my mouth to call out for her, she beats me to it.

“Can I talk to you about something, toots?” she asks as she whips around to face me. I simply nod, and she continues, “Somewhere private.” She climbs into the backseat as I look around the empty road. Doesn’t get much more private than this, but I digress. I shut the door behind me and get comfortable.

“So what did you–” I don’t have a chance to finish as she straddles my lap, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach as I recall what happened the last time she did this—her teasing won’t stop unless I speak up, but when I take notice of the whirlwind of emotions flashing through her eyes, my hands subconsciously fall to her hips, tracing soothing circles on the soft skin. I realize I’d rather be stuck in limbo than lose her altogether.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Her question takes me by surprise, and my eyebrows shoot up. She squeezes my cheeks with one hand, turning my face upwards.

“W–what? Why would you think that?” I stutter as her gaze skims over my features.

“Why won’t you make a move already?” Her voice is wobbly, and I’m left speechless. My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of the water as I rack my brain for the right words.

“I wasn’t–I’m not sure if you want me to,” I finally reply, and she makes a face.

“Look at us, Y/N” –she gestures to our current position– “you’re a smart girl, don’t act clueless now.”

Realization hits me like a train. Jinx needs loyalty and devotion—she needs me to show her how much I want her. She wants to know that despite her complex character, I’ll stick around and fight for her. In retrospect, it all seems so simple and obvious.

“Jinx?” My voice is barely above a whisper as I look into her eyes. She can only hum in response. “I’m going to count to three, and then I’m going to kiss you.” Her grip on me loosens in surprise, and her wide eyes are blinking rapidly. “I’m giving you those three seconds to stop me if you change your mind.” She stays silent, and I begin my countdown.

1…

2…

When I finally taste her, I realize how badly I’ve been starving.

My hands cannot bring her close enough to me as I snake my arm around her waist and rest my free hand on her jawline. I’m not holding back anymore. If she wants devotion, I’ll show her exactly that.

I’m furious—furious that I’d been denied this pleasure for so long, but my lips move against hers as if they’d already danced this way before. It’s effortless, like the gliding of a pen on paper from an inspired writer’s hand, and she’s the muse.

It’s not a gentle kiss, the way first ones usually go. It’s hungry, rough, and precisely what was needed to let out the pent-up tension. It’s swirling tongues, dripping saliva, and smudged lipsticks. Without ever pulling away, I carefully lay her on her back, and my fingers sink into the soft flesh of her thighs. Her colorful nails claw at my back, and I groan into her mouth, digging my hips into hers. We’re both breathing heavily through our noses, and my attention shifts to her neck by biting and sucking on the tender skin, letting my hands roam over her curves freely, mapping out her body.

A trail of hickeys is forming on her collarbone, and she’s a moaning and whimpering mess under my touch; it’s a blissful sight. She locks her slender legs around my hips and pulls me further into her, chasing more friction. Watching her become so needy thrills me even more, and my hand tentatively falls to her clothed crotch. Her jaw slacks in anticipation as my fingers ghost over the area where she needs me most, and her back arches into me in response. I want to watch her unravel beneath me, shaking limbs and sweat dripping from her temples.

But she’d teased me too many times for me to grant her this relief right now.

I relish the feeling of our closeness with one last peck and catch Jinx’s lower lip between my teeth, pulling on it slightly before letting go, earning a faint whine from her.

We’re both panting and trying to catch our breaths as I hover above her, my palms firmly planted on the seat on either side of her face, propping myself up. I can’t help but admire my work. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips are swollen, her smudged plum lipstick matching the bruises on her neck—still, she’s absolutely beautiful. She watches me through half-hooded eyes with her pupils dilated, and I smirk at her breathlessness.

“Leaving me high and dry, trinket?” she asks, and her hands fall to my hips, trying to pull me back in.

“Call it payback,” I reply before hoisting her back into my lap, and she yelps in surprise.

Jinx grips my shoulders to steady herself, and I try my best to smooth out her disheveled hair. I start peppering sweet kisses to her bruised skin, and she lets her head fall back with a pleased sigh. I pull her back in so my lips can find hers once again. It’s much slower this time, grounding us in the moment, and there’s that delicate side of her peeking through with each swipe of her tongue. When I pull away and take notice of her peaceful state, I know it was all worth the wait. I caress her cheek with the back of my hand, and she leans into my touch.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve craved this?” I whisper, and an amused glint flashes through her eyes.

“Two weeks isn’t that long.” She’s giggling now, and this sound alone is enough to bring a smile to my face.

“It is when you’re right in front of me, and I’m unable to touch you properly.” My thumb starts working on cleaning up her smudged lipstick, and her features soften as she mirrors my actions.

Sitting in the backseat with her feels like a full-circle moment. This is where it all began—a simple thrill-seeking witness turned getaway driver for a blue-haired menace.

Fourteen days.

It took me two weeks to make her mine.

I can’t help the dumb smile tugging on the corners of my mouth as I start driving again. Jinx’s head is on my lap, the same way it was the night we met, and she’s telling me which houses she’s planning on tagging next. The drive goes by quickly as we exchange our opinions on what the Montana spray paint smells like—I say cotton candy, she’s hellbent on bubblegum—and before we know it, I’m parking outside my future college.

“Oooh, look how fancy,” Jinx speaks up as she analyzes the building, and she’s absolutely right. The size itself is intimidating, and I can already see myself getting lost in the halls. The architecture looks modern with futuristic touches, and the campus is surrounded by grass and cherry blossom trees. If it wasn’t for my scholarship, I wouldn’t even dream of affording to study here. “Is now a good time to tell you that I’m your bunk buddy?”

I turn my head so quickly I almost give myself whiplash, and I stare at her as if she grew a second head in the last thirty seconds.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I grab her arm in disbelief, and she shakes her head with a smile, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“Surprise!” She laughs while I’m still processing her confession. “My mechanical engineering scholarship got accepted, so I filled out your housing application and requested myself. Then I filled out mine and requested you. I didn’t think it would work, but, holy shit, isn’t that awesome?”

Any sane person would feel violated by this. But me? I’m fucking delighted.

“You’re a gift that keeps on giving.” My hands cup her cheeks as I pull her in for a kiss, the excitement getting the best of me. One kiss turns into two, then three, and before I know it, I’m peppering her whole face in them as she laughs. When she finally settles, there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Wanna test out the beds?”

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