#ANON I AM SO SORRY THIS IS MY OLDEST REQUEST I FINALLY DID IT

[shadowtriovibes]

before the origin of love

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Blood, Major Hogwarts Legacy Spoilers, Canon Divergence, Ancient Magic Theory

Summary: request [paraphrased]: "You know the part during the game when MC visits Ollivander's alone and Rookwood Apparates her away? Can I request an angsty version of this where Sebastian is with f!MC? Rookwood is angry they killed all his men and casts Imperio on Sebastian to force him to attack her. Even though she’s expecting to die by Sebastian’s hand, he eventually fights the curse off because love is more powerful than dark magic."

a.k.a. y'all thought lily potter was the only one with ancient love magic? think again!!!

“Show your face, Rookwood!” you shout into the darkness. “Come out and fight me!” “My dear, why should I fight you?” Rookwood laughs from high above you, still unseen. “This is child’s play, after all…” You feel like time stops as you see a bright green curse rocket through the air toward Sebastian, who is powerless to do anything to stop it. The curse hits him in the chest with such force that he’s knocked backward, his head tipping forward as he lets out a sickening groan. But instead of watching your friend die while you stood by helplessly, you watch in abject horror as he tilts his head up and locks eyes with you – smoky-green, soulless eyes.

The moment you and Sebastian step outside Ollivander’s shop, you realize that the typically bustling streets of Hogsmeade are disquietingly empty. It’s nearly sundown now, and instead of seeing a friendly mix of witches and wizards doing their holiday shopping or stocking up on supplies for the winter months, you find yourselves all alone.

“Take out your wand,” you murmur to Sebastian. “Something’s not right.”

Wordlessly Sebastian draws his wand and takes a step closer to you, warily glancing up and down the empty streets.

Then in the blink of an eye, a well-dressed figure Apparates into view just across the way – Victor Rookwood, you realize, complete with that infuriating hat of his.

“Rookwood,” Sebastian boldly calls out. “So we meet again. Didn’t you get enough of a telling-off last time?”

You silently aim your wand at him, daring him to take one step closer.

“Well, well… looks like your friend Sirona isn’t here to stick up for you little menaces this time,” Rookwood says with a sneer. “I’m afraid you two are on your own. In fact, I’ve ensured that we have a moment to ourselves.”

Sebastian quickly lifts his wand and aims it squarely at the man’s face. “What do you want, Rookwood?”

“Oh, come, come, no need for such theatrics,” the man drawls, slowly creeping closer to you both. “In light of what Ranrok now knows, you must agree that our interests are aligned.”

Sparks crackle at the tip of your wand as you lift it toward Rookwood.

“Our interests will never be aligned,” you murmur.

Rookwood glances significantly at Sebastian before he challenges you.

“My dear, you would let goblins take what is rightfully ours? The final repository belongs to wizardkind. We would be fools not to work together.”

Beside you, you observe the slightest falter in Sebastian’s aim. You should have known that someone like Rookwood would immediately be able to pinpoint and exploit his biggest weakness – his resentment toward goblinkind, his uncompromising belief that only they carry the blame for his sister’s curse.

You imagine him thinking, Could he be right? Are we fools to allow Ranrok’s goblins to continue ransacking Isadora’s Repositories? Could we instead be using them to cure Anne?

But before Sebastian says a word, Rookwood’s eyes land on the long, thin box in your hands.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” he demands.

Quickly, you slip the box safely inside your robes. You shake your head only slightly, but Rookwood easily detects its significance.

Rookwood continues, “Might this sudden visit to the wandmaker have something to do with our… mutual pursuit?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say softly.

Suddenly, you see Rookwood’s countenance shift as his true motives become clear.

“That repository is my birthright!” he shouts, stepping toward you with a hand outstretched.

Instantly Sebastian steps in front of you and points his wand at Rookwood once more. “I know one thing for certain, and that’s that Charles Rookwood wouldn’t have wanted you anywhere near it!”

Rookwood laughs darkly as he takes a step back.

“The arrogance,” he murmurs, gaze fixed on Sebastian’s determined expression. “I should have known better than to try to reason with a Sallow, after all – you’re no better than your sister, you simpering fool.”

In a frighteningly low voice, Sebastian asks, “What would you know about my sister?”

“Nothing, of course,” Rookwood sneers. “I only meant that I’ve always thought that children should be seen and not heard.”

You inhale sharply, absently lowering your wand as you process Rookwood’s words – the very same that Sebastian had told you were the last words Anne had heard before she was hit with her curse.

Sebastian understands the implication a split second before you do, and you can see bolts of green light shooting down the length of his wand before you even understand what he’s doing.

“Avada–”

Before he can finish his spell, you feel a hand on your shoulder and suddenly you’re hurtling through time and space as you’re forcibly Apparated away from Hogsmeade, landing in a crumpled heap in the snowy grass. You’re smack in the middle of a desolate bandit camp somewhere in the Highlands.

Beside you, Sebastian is catching his breath while his hands tremble with rage.

“Where did he go?” Sebastian demands. “Where did the bloody coward go?!”

“Careful, Sallow,” Rookwood’s voice calls out from the darkness. “Wouldn’t want to get yourself into a bind!”

Sebastian suddenly shouts as thick lengths of rope appear out of thin air and wrap themselves around his body, forcing him to his knees.

“Sebastian!” you yell. “Finite!”

Your spell deflects right off the enchanted ropes, and Sebastian grits his teeth.

“I’m okay,” he insists. “It’ll be alright, just – just get him, you can do this.”

Desperate, you find yourself alone while Sebastian struggles against his ropes. You’re keenly aware of the dozen or so fully-grown wizards Apparting into the camp with their wands drawn. You’ll have to take on every single one of them by yourself, you realize, with nothing but your own wand and the ancient magic coursing through your veins to defend yourself.

It feels endless. Simply deflecting their spells takes nearly all of your focus, even if you try to spare some for Sebastian while he struggles uselessly against his bindings. You toss curse after curse at Rookwood’s men and eventually you’re forced to start tossing actual barrels and crates at them as well, until finally you pare down the lot of them to the last executioner with his wand trained squarely at your heart.

“Bomarba!” you holler, and across the field, the burly executioner goes flying into a pile of rubble and melts away into smoke, the last to abandon his mission and surrender.

“Show your face, Rookwood!” you shout into the darkness. “Come out and fight me!”

“My dear, why should I fight you?” Rookwood laughs from high above you, still unseen. “This is child’s play, after all…”

You feel like time stops as you see a bright green curse rocket through the air toward Sebastian, who is powerless to do anything to stop it. The curse hits him in the chest with such force that he’s knocked backward, his head tipping forward as he lets out a sickening groan. But instead of watching your friend die while you stood by helplessly, you watch in abject horror as he tilts his head up and locks eyes with you – smoky-green, soulless eyes.

Imperio.

 “So go on, then,” Rockwood demands. “Play!”

The ropes that had bound Sebastian’s arms to his side quickly fall away, and before you can even react he lifts his wand and rounds on you.

“Confringo!” he shouts, and a blaze of fire soars just past your ear.

“Sebastian,” you call out. “Can you hear me? Don’t do this, please!”

You know it’s fruitless. Sebastian himself had taught you that the Imperius curse cannot be fought off, even by the most powerful wizards who have ever been trained to resist its impenetrable influence. Despite his dueling skills and his broad knowledge of the Dark Arts, you have to assume that Sebastian doesn’t stand a chance against Rookwood’s voice in his ear.

“Levioso!” you counter, hoping to merely hold him off long enough to get to Rookwood and force him to free Sebastian.

But to your chagrin, the Sebastian you’ve known and loved since your first days at Hogwarts is indeed one of the most disciplined and talented duelers you’ve ever fought, and even though he doesn’t want to, he’ll surely give you a run for your money.

“Diffindo!” he growls, and the edge of his curse just barely nicks the side of your calf. You cry out in pain and collapse to the ground as you press a hand to the bleeding wound.

“Want me to release your little friend?” Rookwood calls out. “It’s simple, darling. Join me against Ranrok and I’ll let him live!”

You know deep down that you can’t ally yourself with Rookwood. Despite Sebastian’s initial hesitance, you have to imagine that if he were able to understand your position, he’d do the very same thing that you’re about to do.

It wasn’t the goblins after all, it was him, you can hear him say. We can never join him, not after what he did to Anne. There’s only one way out of this.

Merlin, you think. This is it.

Without your ability to wield ancient magic or the wand made of the Pensieve artifacts, Ranrok may never gain access to the final repository, you convince yourself – especially if he splinters from Rookwood. Sebastian can give the wand to Fig after you’re gone, he can hide it somewhere Ranrok will never find it…

It could all work out, you reckon, if you die.

“Never!” you call out to Rookwood. “I’ll never join you!”

“Then you’ve made your choice,” Rookwood’s voice echoes back. “I’ll let the Sallow boy show you what happens to anyone who says no to me.”

Rockwood’s twisted laughter rings out all around you as Sebastian’s opalescent eyes look you up and down. He lifts his wand and aims it at your heart, and you close your eyes with your own wand at your side.

“Avada Kedavra!”

…

…You’re still breathing.

How are you still breathing?

When you open your eyes, Sebastian is standing before you looking entirely drained, his eyelids drooping as he sways from pure exhaustion. However, just before he collapses you catch a glimpse of his eyes – his usual warm brown ones, the same magnificent eyes you’ll never tire of seeing after all this.

“Sebastian!” you shout, running over to support him as he tumbles to the ground. “Wh-what just happened?”

“Did I get him?” he asks in a whisper. “Rookwood?”

Stunned, you cast Lumos and peer across the empty field until you notice a figure lying in the snow far at the other end – Rockwood, you assume. He isn’t moving, and his legs are bent in a sick, absurd way as if he’d fallen from the watchtower that he now lays below.

“Yes,” you breathe. “You did, b-but… Sebastian, how did you–”

“I don’t know,” he sighs. He’s clinging to your arm as you help him to sit up and rest his head between his knees. “I have no idea, I just… I couldn’t do it.”

“He wanted you to kill me,” you surmise.

“I wouldn’t,” he says hollowly. “It… felt like my head was being split open right down the middle, with one half of me forcing my body to move and aim my wand and the other half knowing that I’d rather die than use that curse on you.”

“Oh, Seb,” you whisper.

You’re both quiet for several long moments while Sebastian takes deep breaths, his face still hidden between his knees. You slowly rub his back through his cloak and wait for him to sit up. He looks haunted when he finally does – even more so than he usually looks.

“I hurt you,” he mumbles. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, love,” you say softly, the pet name slipping out so easily that you barely even register at first. “I’m okay, it’s just a cut. Some Wiggenweld will fix me right up when we get back to the castle.”

“Can I?” he asks hesitantly, and you reluctantly let him pull your cloak to the slide so he can see the gash on your calf.

It isn’t deep, and it isn’t even bleeding anymore, but the ripped trouser leg and drying blood stains make Sebastian curse under his breath nonetheless.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers. “Why did I do that?”

“You have no choice,” you remind him desperately. “No witch or wizard has ever fought off the Imperius curse like that before, Sebastian, and you spared me my life. I don’t care about a bloody cut when I should be dead.”

“Never,” he chants mindlessly. “Never, I wouldn’t.”

That’s when a thought occurs to you.

“Sebastian…” you say softly. “It’s possible that there are… other types of ancient magic in addition to mine.”

He frowns. “What are you saying?”

“Maybe there’s something… something primeval, something elemental to our magic that you accessed,” you wonder aloud. “Professor Fig told me that his wife Miriam had spent years studying ancient magic, and it can’t only be that which I have the power to wield. Perhaps you were able to defy Rookwood’s will because you – you connected with a magic that’s more powerful than even an Unforgivable.”

“More powerful than that kind of darkness?” he asks softly. “...That type of magic exists?”

“Of course, it must,” you say simply. “Darkness can’t be more powerful than light, can it?”

He considers your supposition as if it’s the first time the thought has ever occurred to him.

“So… so what, the power of ‘friendship,’ something like that?” he asks, a corner of his mouth quirking up into the first thing resembling a smile that he’s shown since you entered Hogsmeade hours ago.

“Something like that,” you tease him. “Maybe the power of ‘love.’”

You’d meant it entirely in a platonic way, but as soon as the words are out of your mouth, Sebastian goes red and ducks his face.

“That’s – that’s ridiculous,” he mumbles. “I mean, love, that’s… Who said anything about love?”

You’re quiet while you watch Sebastian try and fail to gather his thoughts. He’s flailing, and all of a sudden you realize something clear as day that you can’t quite believe you never recognized before.

“Sebastian,” you murmur. “...Do you suppose you broke through an Imperius curse because you’re in love with me?”

“Wh-what?!” he laughs.

“Because if you did, that would be probably the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, in all the books I’ve ever read,” you continue. “And if that were the case, I would have to tell you that I’m madly in love with you, too.”

Sebastian is stunned into silence.

“You love me?” he eventually whispers.

“I do,” you tell him. “And… and I never really thought about it before, because it doesn’t really feel all that different from being friends with you, except – except I would have let you kill me rather than kill you, even though I know what’s at stake.”

“I still think you should’ve,” Sebastian jokes quietly. “You’re much more important than I am.”

“Regardless, we couldn’t have let Rookwood find out about the last Repository, and I would have taken the Killing Curse to stop him,” you sigh. “I trusted you would have taken the Pensieve wand back to Fig.”

“I would’ve turned my wand on myself first,” Sebastian says plainly. “Without a second thought.”

Merlin, you can’t believe he actually says things like that.

Rather than continuing to dwell on what could have been, you offer him a hand up and support him by the elbow while he shakily makes his way to his feet. He still looks pale and rattled, but he’s able to start to walk toward the exit of the crumbling ruins – still clinging to your hand.

“Come on,” you murmur. “When we get back to the castle you can rest.”

“What about the Repository?” he asks weakly.

“Let me and Fig worry about that,” you murmur. “You’ve already done more than enough for me today, love. You need to recover.”

“M’not even hurt,” he protests, but he sounds utterly depleted.

“Hush,” you whisper. “Just keep holding onto me, alright?”

It’s not easy getting Sebastian back to the castle; he keeps pitching to the side on the back of your broom as he fights to stay conscious, but you manage to keep him from falling off. Despite his protests, you take him straight to Nurse Blainey so he can get some proper rest (and so someone will be forced to keep an eye on him for you).

“Be safe,” he murmurs while you squeeze his hand in his infirmary bed. “Please.”

“I promise, Seb,” you tell him, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Just be here waiting for me when I get back.”

“You’ve made sure of that,” he grumbles, but he offers you an encouraging smile before you leave for the Map Room one final time.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Snow Angels | S.Coups

❄️ Pairing: Dad!Choi Seungcheol x Mum!Reader ❄️ Requested by: Anon ❄️ Synopsis: Prompt 10 - Y//N and Seungcheol take their kids outside to make a snowman and snow angels ❄️ Word Count: 999 ❄️ Warnings: None. Sorry this was late, I've been sick with a migraine. ❄️ Taglist: Open. I am renewing my tag lists for 2025. Please read this post if you want to stay on them- tag list renewal (dec 01-31 2024).

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

“Eomma! Eomma! Eomma!” Seungcheol and Y/N’s oldest son chants excitedly as she rushes into the kitchen where Y/N is making breakfast for the family of five. “It snowed again last night!” he informs her. The first thing he did after waking up was look out the window. Seungcheol had told him they were expecting another snow fall over night and promised him they’d spend time making snowmen and snow angels with his younger brother and sister. “There’s so much more snow out there!” the 8-year-old let’s her know. 

“Really?” Y/N asks, pretending to be surprised. “I guess that means you’ll have a lot more snow for your snowman.” 

He nods his head, before putting on the same pout his father uses for various reasons. “But more snow means I have to look harder for rocks to use as the eyes and mouth.” 

“Check the bowl on the table,” Y/N tells him nodding towards the bowl that sits near the end of the table, closest to the door. "Appa went out and found some last night." 

"Can we go build a snowman now?" Seung-han excitedly asks, seeing the small rocks in the bowl. 

"Let's have breakfast first," Y/N tells him. "Then we can get ready and go outside to make a snowman." 

"I thought we were decorating the Christmas Tree first," Seungcheol says walking into the kitchen, carrying their 2-year-old daughter, Nari, with their second son, 6-year-old Ye-jun trailing behind them. They were a little late to getting the christmas tree decorated. It had been sitting bare in the corner of their living room for a good two weeks. Between their busy schedules and school functions, they hadn't had time until now. Both Y/N and Seungcheol have a weekend off and thought it would be fun activity to do as a family. 

“But I want to build a snowman,” Seung-han insists, pouting once more. “We can always build a snowman after we decorate the tree,” Seungcheol suggests, gently placing Nari in her chair and helping Ye-jun into his.  

“Snowman first,” Seung-han argues, trying to convince his father. His younger siblings quickly echo his words leaving no room for argument. 

Seungcheol mirrors his sons pout as he walks over to his wife, pecking her lips before bowing down to place a kiss on her rounded belly where their fourth (and final) child, another boy, is growing. 

"We can always decorate the tree later," Y/N assures her husband. "It'll be nice to do once we're all warmed up from being in the snow," she continues before lowering her voice, "It won't be long until they get cold and bored and want to come back inside." 

"Snowman first, it is," Seungcheol concedes, earning cheers from all three of his children, even though he suspects Nari, the daddy's girl, is just going along with her older brothers. 

Once breakfast is ready, Seungcheol helps Y/N set the table. "Make sure to eat all your food, or I might change my mind and we’ll do the Christmas tree first," he warns the kids as he places their bowls in front of them. 

After they finish breakfast, Seungcheol does the dishes and then helps Y/N get their children wrapped up warm in coats, scarves and gloves before heading outside to play in the snow. As soon as they're outside, Seung-han is making snowballs to make the snowman with Seungcheol's help while Ye-jun and Nari flop onto the ground, waving their arms and legs, leaving behind perfect imprints in the soft snow. Nari, her cheeks flushed from the cold, gets up and admires her creation, her eyes wide with joy as Ye-jun goes to help his father and older brother in making a snowman. 

"Look Eomma, it's Uncle Hannie!" Nari says, standing up and pointing to the snow angel she made. "Take a photo!" 

Y/N chuckles at Nari's enthusiasm, her cheeks flushed from the snow as she stands proudly beside her creation that reminds her of her favourite uncle and godfather.  

"Alright, my little princess," she replies, pulling out her phone. She makes sure to get the perfect angle, making sure to include Nari's beaming smile and the outline of her snow angel in the frame. Y/N takes a couple photos, sending one to Jeonghan with the caption 'It's Uncle Hannie – Nari.' 

Seungcheol, still kneeling beside Seung-han as they make the base for their snowman, glances over at Y/N and Nari, his heart swelling with pride and love. He lives for these carefree moments, seeing his wife and children happy. He finishes packing a snowball and tosses it playfully at Seung-han, who squeals in surprise and retaliates with a snowball of his own. He laughs, dodging the incoming snowball. The playful banter quickly escalates into a full-blown snowball fight, all three kids against their dad. Y/N watches, her heart full. 

After a while, the snowball fight winds down, and the children, breathless and giggling, collapse into a heap in the snow. Seungcheol joins them, lying back and making his own snow angel, much to the delight of the kids. 

“Okay, everyone! We should get back to making the snowman!” Seungcheol suggests. They begin rolling large snowballs, working together to stack them on top of each other. Seungcheol helps them, lifting the large snowballs with ease and placing it carefully on top of the bottom one.  

“Now for the face!” Seung-han declares, running off to get the bowl of rocks that Seungcheol had connected the night before. Nari and Ye-jun follow suit, their little hands searching for the perfect items to give their snowman personality. Seungcheol takes off his scarf placing it around the snowman's neck. 

Once the snowman is complete, Y/N makes them crowd around their creation and takes some photos on her phone, wanting to capture the moment forever. 

“Can we go inside now?” Seung-han asks, starting to shiver from the cold, his teeth chattering slightly. 

Seungcheol agrees ushering his growing family back inside so they can get warmed up before they start decorating the Christmas tree.

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[daytaker]

hii hellooo, may i request brothers with a clown core mc? their outfits most often being very colorful but their personality being the opposite? like somewhat cold and very blunt, not talking much and if talking then it’s about something mildly disturbing like murder investigations or an odd fascination with deadly diseases stuff like that

sorry that it’s extremely specific and thank you regardless _(┐「ε:)_

Clown Anon MCs - [ Clowncore MC | Death-Fixated Science Geek MC | LeVeyan Satanist MC ]

When you first arrived, no one was sure what to think. They looked you over. Your pink hair, your cyan shorts. A yellow T-shirt and rainbow suspenders. Gaudy makeup and adorable pink tennis shoes. Beaded bracelets and necklaces and colorful tights.

And a box of smokes in your back pocket.

"Welcome to the House of Lamentation," Lucifer says, gesturing grandly at the stately mansion ahead of you.

You say nothing. Instead, you pull out a cigarette and a lighter. Taking a drag, you lazily gaze at the house, then back at your host, who looks disgusted.

"Make sure you only do that outside," he says, nodding to the box of cigarettes in your hand.

You blow a puff of smoke in his face and start walking to the door, completely ignoring the sounds of Lucifer struggling to contain his rage.

"Why's it called that?" you finally ask as you stop at the front doors. "'House of Lamentation'?"

Lucifer, having composed himself by now, steps up beside you. "This is a replica of a house from the human world," he explains. "In it, an entire family was murdered; the parents, the servant, and six of their seven sons. The seventh--"

"Ohhh. This is the Sutton house," you say, nodding.

"Excuse me?"

"The Sutton house. Massachusetts, 1923. Elijah Sutton, oldest of seven sons, runs into the local tavern screaming that his servant killed the whole family and himself. Most folks today think it was Elijah who really did it. I know I do."

You take one more drag from your cigarette, then drop it on the ground and put it out with the heel of your shoe.

"So this is their house, huh? Sick."

---

It's breakfast on your second day in the Devildom. You took extra time to apply your godawful makeup this morning, and you're sure it shows, because the brothers keep glancing at you as if they're not quite sure what they should say.

"You talk to them, Mammon," mumbles Satan. "You're their babysitter."

"Ah... ahem." Mammon casts a glare at his brother, then looks at you. "So, uh... Human." You stare at him with a dead-eyed expression that seems to unnerve him even more. "...We're goin' to RAD today, and there's a couple a things you should know." You continue staring.

Mammon looks to his brothers for help, but they all avoid eye contact. "Uhhh... Just... try not to get eaten, 'kay? Lucifer'll be pissed if you die on my watch."

"Do demons eat people?" you ask. "Like, raw?"

"Sometimes! So don't mess around with 'em, got it?"

"That's gotta be messy as fuck."

"It is!"

"You got any photos?"

"....Eh?"

---

"So I get that you're the seven deadly sins," you say to Satan, sprawled out in an armchair in the library, "but like... is that all you guys got here?"

Satan, who had been minding his own business and innocently reading a book of curses, looks irritated. "Is that all of what?"

"I dunno. Bad shit shaped like people." You shrug. "Like, you got the Four Horsemen or somethin'?"

"Of course not," Satan snaps. "That would be ridiculous."

You shrug. "Embodiment of plague? Too ridiculous to believe. Embodiment of wrath? Well, obviously that's a thing."

---

"You have to make pacts with Lucifer and his brothers," Belphie urges you through the door. You stare at him, then take a drag from your cigarette. As long as Lucifer is occupied in the music room with that weird record, you're going to break every rule in this damn house.

"How am I supposed to do that? Am I gonna split up my soul Horcrux style? Give everybody a slice?"

Belphie stares at you for a few seconds. You don't realize how badly he wishes he could kill you in this moment. "Are you going to help me or not?"

You shrug. "What do I get out of it?"

He blinks at you in utter bewilderment. "You... make me happy?"

You stare at him. He stares at you. You stare at him. He continues to stare at you.

You head back down the stairs.

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

can you do hcs of dating grayson hawthorne?

grayson hawthorne x fem! reader

hcs about meeting & dating the heir apparent of the hawthorne family.

a/n: ofc!! thx sm for the request & sorry for the wait!! i just got a new one also requesting grayson so this one goes out to you too anon!! grayson hawthorne is one of the lomls🫶 i am so indecisive between him & jameson fr (but for avery i think jameson is better suited for her). hope u enjoy!! i'm a sucker for the poor x rich trope sorry & i love tobias lowkey playing match maker in these LOL & this follows some of the main story but then kinda trails off

word count: 6.8k

warnings: almost drowning (LOL), minor mature language, few spoliers for final gambit i guess?,

before you were dating the second oldest hawthorne, you were just a girl working part-time at a diner as a waitress, trying to make enough money to buy a car. you were relentlessly getting picked up/dropped off everywhere by either one of your parent's vehicles.

being a waitress wasn't ideal when dealing with rude customers, pretentious managers, and occasional annoying co-workers, but you had decent pay, and tips weren't too bad.

most of the time you were running the show on your own. serving tables, acting as hostess, dealing with unsatisfied customers, etc. it wasn’t even the lack of staff, it was lazy behaviors of your co-workers and manager - who got the job because her dad owns the business.

one peculiar afternoon you were doing your usual job of serving tables and taking orders when an older gentleman walked in, way classier than your usual customers. you seated him, gave him a menu, and then returned to the kitchen to serve your other tables.

the diner staff seemed to be murmuring words and glancing back at the man, but you didn't pay any mind to it. it wasn't unusual for you to catch staff gossiping about customers.

going back to the table, you gave him the complimentary water and then asked for his beverage of choice - he chose a simple black coffee. you went to the kitchen and returned with his drink. you were on the verge of asking for his meal order, but he looked preoccupied with a crossword puzzle.

you peaked over, and noticed he looked possibly stuck, so you offered your help because you often did crosswords when you were bored. "do you mind if i take a look?"

he said nothing, only gesturing his head toward his little crossword booklet and pen beside it. even his pen looked fancy.

you looked over the one he was one, and after reading the hint and the number of boxes for the word, you could figure it out.

"tatersall."

the old man peered at you as if you spoke a different language.

"it's fabric with checks and lines, the phrase is a bit old-fashioned. i only know it 'cause that's what my dad refers to his shirts as." you explained.

he looked intrigued by your words, as if you'd given him an idea. he thanked you, then went on to fill out the boxes.

words were said much after that. he drank his coffee and left sometime while you were busy serving other tables. when you returned to ask him if he wanted anything else, he was already gone. but not before leaving $200 dollar tip next to his finished coffee.

you thoroughly checked if it was real, not believing anyone would purposely leave such a tip for a cup of black coffee. but in fact, it was very real. and you even bought yourself a very cute dress to commemorate. just to double check it was legit, of course.

the older man with silver-blue eyes continued to come into the diner every few days, never ordering anything other than a black coffee and always being generous with the tip.

you two had polite conversations and odd ones rooted questions he dropped on you. you noticed a lot of them pertained to money and contributions. but you never passed on answering.

they were questions like "what jobs have you worked?", "what are your parents' occupations?", "are you interested in charities and donations?", and "what do you do with the money you earn?"

thru these visits, he finally gave you his name, tobias. it shouldn't had surprised you he had a unique name to match his unique personality.

you didn't get much information about tobias. all he revealed to you was he enjoyed games, was obviously wealthy, and has 2 daughters, one son, and 4 grandsons - who weren't too off from your age.

he liked to talk about a certain one, the second oldest, grayson. you created an image he was a closed-off, goal-driven, cunning, and loyal guy. you didn’t wanna jump to conclusions, but one could say he was slyly trying to set you up with him.

it wasn’t uncommon for grandparents to come in the diner and rave about their grandsons. at times they would even show you a multitude of photos saying how handsome they are and well-raised gentlemen who would be a great match for you.

you never had the heart to straight up tell them ‘not interested’, so you listened to their praises and then fabricated a lie as to why you were unable to date their grandson.

if tobias ever were to ever try and do that you would use the same methods. you were sure his grandson was an acceptable man, but you had no interest in going on a blind date with anytime soon.

however, the conversation didn't maneuver that direction; instead, he went on to talk about how grayson was in charge of a foundation he owns and basically manages everything.

you found that rather impressive, considering he was only eight-teen. then you thought, 'just how rich is this guy?'

this arrangement continued for a few more weeks and then it turns into a constant routine for months. still never ordering anything order than a coffee, and leaving after.

one day, tobias abruptly stopped coming into the diner. and after a two-week hiatus, you figured he was likely not returning again.

you didn't realize how tedious work was without the old man's presence, you were still as busy as ever doing everyone's job, but now you didn't have the levity from your conversations.

it stayed like that for the following three months, no word from tobias. you wanted to contact him somewhere, but you began to realize how little you knew of him, hell you didn't even know his last name. he knew all the basics of what comprised you, but you couldn't even say his favorite color. and you’d known this man for almost a year.

but as it turned out, you didn't need to contact him yourself because a man came into the diner asking for you.

at first, you thought it was an unsatisfied customer here to berate you some more; it wouldn't be the first time. but you were more than relieved it was a guy you'd never seen before, a particularly handsome and well-fitted one.

you went up to the man and politely greeted him, asking how you could help him. he took you presence in when you appeared, looking up and down. it wasn't in a 'checking-you-out' type way, it was of an 'i'm judging what type of person you are' way. you felt scrutinized in your lousy diner girl uniform. it didn't help he was dressed pristinely from head to toe.

he finally spoke, "it's pertaining to my grandfather, tobias hawthorne."

you were piqued up at the mention of tobias, this was the first time you'd heard of his last name, but you didn't know any other tobias's so it must be him.

the man in front of you was one of his infamous grandsons he loved to chat about, although you weren't sure which one. but based on his stern and disciplined attitude, you'd place your bets on grayson. but just to be sure you asked.

"right, my name is grayson hawthorne." you called it. "unfortunately, my grandfather has recently passed. my family is in the middle of gathering everyone for the matter of the will, but all parties must be preset. my grandfather's law firm has informed me you are also mentioned in it."

your heart broke at the reveal of tobias passing. you knew him less than a year, but you still had formed a connection with him.

then the other portion of his statement dawned on you, he mentioned you in his will. why?

grayson seemed to have wanted to know this too. he said tobias mentioned you in passing but didn't offer details about your relationship. he didn't hide how he was suspecting and untrusting of you.

you filled him in on details of how you met, your meetings, and the last time you conversed with him. grayson was still wary of you, but he didn't have any reason yet to say you were lying.

he then urged you to gather your belongings because the two of you had to head over to his family's residence as soon as possible. he has already informed your boss of your leave of absence.

it was all so sudden, you were still processing all this information. grayson's insistence made it nearly impossible to do anything but listen. 

so, grayson took you home to change and pack a few items. you left a note for your parents, letting them know you'd be spending a night or two at a friend's house. you knew if you explained what was really going on they would not let you go; they'd probably even scold you for befriending a random old man at work, calling you naive.

although, that had merit because you were currently off with a man you knew for like five seconds because you believed he was the grandson of a man who you also didn't know for too long.

you thought the chance of getting kidnapped was better than overworking at the diner.

you were astounded when grayson casually took you to the destination of his private jet. you'd never flown first class, let alone a private freaking jet.

you two took off, and a few hours later, arrived in texas. the moment you stepped off, a bodyguard guided the two of you into a limousine. from there, you sought off to the mansion.

when you arrived, you thought you'd been driven to some sort of fancy hotel, but not it was where grayson and the rest of the hawthorne lived. you'd likely get lost trying to go from the kitchen to your bedroom.

grayson had to physically drag you away from your jaw-dropped stare at the property.

when you entered the entrance hall , another girl was already there, an older girl with her as well.

she turned her attention toward you when she noticed you entering, she seemed to have recognized grayson, but had a questioning gaze toward you.

the older girl was the one to speak to you first. “and here i thought we’d already met everyone affiliated with this crazy rich family. hi, i’m libby and this is my sister avery. are you grayson’s girlfriend?”

you could’ve died from awkwardness right there. you didn’t even wanna take a glance at grayson’s reaction, you imagined he would have a look of discontent.

“er, no. we just met today actually. he came into my work saying i’m needed for a will reading, and next thing i know im off in a private jet and in this mansion.”

this time avery spoke up, “sorry about libby’s assumption. it was just because you guys came in together and he’s carrying your bag.”

grayson was in fact hold your small luggage bag. he taken the liberty of taking it out of the trunk of the limo and carried it since.

you didn’t say anything, you just snatched your bag out of grayson’s hands, mumbling a quiet thanks.

grayson let out a laugh, but covered it up as a cough.

avery talked about her situation being similar to yours, except she’s never met tobias hawthorne before. it made you feel better there was someone else who felt like an outsider.

you were led away by grayson, guiding you to the room the will was being read. but you ran into a numerous amount of people on the way.

first, it was xander, the youngest hawthorne grandson. he appeared out of secret passage, jump scaring you. then he introduced himself.

nash, who had a country accent, followed a bit after walking in with his mother skye. she asked you a few invading questions about yourself, and you replied cordially. very relieved when grayson excused you both.

finally, you’d met jameson on accident. you were on the way to the bathroom, using directions given to you, and that’s when you bumped into him. he was very obviously drunk. he slurred a few words, but you quickly excused yourself, not wanting to deal with whatever was going on with him.

once you were finally in the room, you took a seat next to avery since she and her sister were the best options.

finally the will reading began, and the lawyers started reciting its words and designated belongs and money to different family members. all the families were stunned that the grandsons, especially grayson, hadn't gotten the entire fortune. yours and averys names had yet to be mentioned.

"to my newfound friend y/n l/n, i leave conservatorship to the hawthorne foundation. the remainder of my estate, including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, i leave it to be shared upon y/n l/n and avery kylie grambs."

nothing could have you prepared for that. you thought it was a prank at first, some sick joke rich people do that get less-than-fortunate people's hopes up. but no, the lawyer did indeed confirm it to be true.

avery and yourself turned toward each other wide-eyed, completely flabbergasted. then the whole room erupted into chaos, everyone standing up to demand an explanation, accusing you both of having done something.

you had just met these people, and you couldn't for sure say they were capable of murder, but you'd seen enough movies about the rich to know it's definitely a possibility.

luckily, oren, tobias' (now ex) bodyguard, stood in front of you girls, preventing the hawthornes from stepping any closer. he claimed he worked for you both now, so it was his job to protect you.

"should we trust this guy? what if he's just playing us to get the inheritance." avery whispered to you.

"a bodyguard with ulterior motives is better than being left to the wolves."

"good point." libby chimed in.

it didn't end there; there were conditions for the will, saying you and avery must remain at the hawthorne estate for a full year to receive the inheritance.

so not only did you become enemy number one toward most hawthornes, but now you had to live with all of them. lovely.

that jump-started your now future of being involved with the hawthornes (and the grambs sisters)

after the will fiasco, the grayson made it his mission to unmask whatever game you played to get the inheritance, but he always came up empty-handed because you, as you insisted to multiple hawthornes, did not manipulate tobias. you didn't even know the guy's last name until you had met grayson.

if you had a talent for taking advantage of rich men, you would not be wasting time being a waitress for a shitty diner.

however, you tried to look on the very bright side of things, living in a gorgeous mansion. your bedroom was the size of your home's first floor. you;'d never slept on a comfier or larger bed.

one thing that set you apart from avery in the will was that you had complete ownership in the hawthorne foundation and his involvement with different charities. alissa had informed you that you'd need to learn to manage it- designating which associations to donate to, how much, how often, etc.

it was overwhelming to think about; if you failed to be a conservator, it would be given to the grandsons. you also knew having authority over it bothered zara hawthorne, since she'd spent basically her whole life running it. you knew it you were to make a wrong move, she'd be quick to call it out you.

alissa had arranged for you to go to the foundation and meet with someone who'd help you navigate the ropes. a part of you assumed it'd be zara meeting you there, maybe forced by alissa to help you. but instead, it was grayson, who still thought you were some master con woman.

he was the only grandson that had an issue with you and avery, but for some reason, you were more suspicious to him. xander, jameson, and nash seemed to have adjusted to events and were now somewhat friends with you. it was pretty infuriating how grayson would not listen to reason, no matter how much you tried to make amends.

grayson remained professional, not wanting his personal feud to hinder the foundation's work. he started giving you a tour and explaining an overview of how things ran. it became easier for you to imagine yourself running it.

you stopped when you passed by various black and white photos hung up in midair. they'd been hung since the beginning of your tour, but you'd only truly taken notice just now.

"who took these? they're beautiful."

"i did."

'of course, you did' you thought. he seemed to be good at everything.

"can i have a copy of this one?" you pointed toward a photo to your left; it was of a couple dancing together in the rain, in front of the eiffel tower.

"why?"

"i'd always wanted to see the eiffel tower. plus, i just really like it." it was true. the photo was captured exquisitely, and going to paris had always been a goal of yours, along with traveling to different places in the world.

he didn't respond. grayson went up to the photograph and carefully unlatched it. he then turned to you and gestured for you to take it, "here, you can have it."

you were a little shocked he just gave it to you, but hundreds of photos were decorated throughout the building, so it probably didn't mean much just giving you one.

you took it in your hands gently and thanked him. you both then continued your tour into the conference room to discuss further management of the hawthorne foundation.

but unbeknownst to you, the photo you now owned was one of his favorites.

it became easier to get to know and warm up to grayson the more you visited the foundation, which you did quite often because you now that you had (or will have) conservatorship to the foundation, you wanted to ensure you knew everything involving it to ensure you'd continue its success.

you could now say the two of you were somewhat friends, but there still seemed to be a wall - built by grayson, between the two of you. likely from the lack of trust he still has toward you.

at times he'd look at you as if you were the enemy, and other times he'd treat you courteously. his constant mood changes were driving you crazy.

you had been staying up later than usual since your stay at the manor began. it didn't help that there was possibly a secret passage in your room like avery's has.

but your leading cause of distress stemmed from the mystery of the whole will situation. you'd gotten a small letter like everyone else, but it failed to offer any closure.

in fact, all it said was, "good luck". you'd never had the urge to strangle a dead old man til now.

however, this night you decided to walk outside. you'd been hesitant to wander around the mansion, but then again, you technically half owned it now, and nobody could really stop you. so you decided to go to the pool area, carefully avoiding alerting your new bodyguard of your movement.

when you got there, it was empty as you had hoped. the pool was illuminated with the lights, the area surrounding it was dimly lit.

you settled for solely dipping your feet in the pool and gazing at the stars upon the sky.

half an hour in, you heard the faint sound of someone possibly approaching. you took it as a sign to get back to your room before oren noticed, if he hadn't already.

you got up a bit too quickly, causing an imbalance in your step - leading you to stumble backward into the pool.

most people would simply swim back up to the top and pull themselves out, but you couldn't do that for one big reason. you never learned to swim.

panic began to seep into you as you flailed your arms all over the place, attempting to float to the top, but it only made you sink further. it didn't help drowning was on the top of your list of 'ways i would hate to die'.

you were midway through choking on the water when someone jumped into the pool and carried you back onto the pavement.

after coughing the water out of your lungs, you looked at the face your your savior kneeled in front of your; low and below there was grayson hawthorne - wearing nothing but swim shorts.

the sight of him shirtless made it harder to steady your breathing.

"are you alright?" you nodded in confirmation.

"what were you thinking getting into the pool so carelessly?"

"well, i just to test out my new waterproof mascara." you said sarcastically. "obviously i didn't end up in the stupid pool purposely!"

he rolled his eyes. “god, were you born a horrendous swimmer or just taught by an imbecile.”

you stayed silent, looking away from him, not wanting to admit the embarrassing truth.

“do you…do you not know how to swim?”

"….. define knowing to swim.”

he gave you an incredulous look, “seriously? even most 5-year-olds know how to swim, better yet, they wouldn’t almost drown in the 7ft part of the pool.”

“okay i get it! it’s pathetic i don’t know the basics of swimming. you don't have to be an asshole about it.” you stood up angrily in your soggy clothes and attempted to walk away - but grayson grabbed your wrist.

“wait. alright, i apologize for being quick to judge. if you want..i’ll teach you to swim.”

you were taken aback by the gesture, not quite sure what to think. on the one hand, it could be a plan to embarrass you further, but on the other hand - you really didn’t want to live your life not being able to swim any longer.

“alright.”

the following night he made good of his word when you went out to meet him. (oren being aware this time, after he warned you he'd lock you in your room if you snuck out without him again.)

this time you had proper swim attire, a 2 piece bikini alissa had purchased for you, along with others.

grayson was already in the pool when you arrived, swimming laps. once he noticed your arrival, he stepped out of the pool. you would've thought it was a scene from a movie from how smoothly & dreamy he moved.

you averted your eyes before you stared at his form too long.

you weren't sure if it was your imagination or you saw grayson do a double-take when he saw you.

all his attractiveness was shortly forgotten when he went to his bag to retrieve something, then handed you some plastic. it took you a moment, but then it clocked - these you arm floaties.

"you're joking right?"

"hey, after that near-drowning experience, it's better to be safe than sorry."

"it's like you want to humiliate me."

"don't worry i chose the ones with the flowers to enhance your matureness." he fought back a smile with his words.

he got a nasty glare in response.

still, you knocked down your pride on putting on the floaties before you and grayson submerged into the pool.

then grayson began reciting exercises and movements for you to do. after floating around for a bit, he instructed you to remove the floaties. you were obviously hesitant, the floaties were keeping you from drowning, but grayson insisted that you trust him.

he grabbed your waist with both hands and got behind you; that was enough to quicken your pulse.

his hands held you steady as you attempted to stay afloat by moving your arms and legs. it would get harder to focus when his hands moved up and down your back.

"okay, i'm gonna let you go now."

"ok. wait what-"

you were abruptly cut off because grayson immediately removed his hands, leaving you on your own. being caught off guard, you began a repeat of the night before, but this time attempting to swim correctly. regardless, you were still beginning to choke on water and sink down.

grayson swam back to your aid in an instant, holding you up above the water by the waist.

"shit- i'm sorry. i assumed your instincts would kick in if you had less reaction time."

"oh, because it worked so well yesterday."

"right, perhaps i should've given it more careful thought." he moved a hand to the side of your face, "are you sure you're okay?"

you nodded, unable to verbally respond. the tension in the air thickened as the two of you continued to stare to one another. for a brief moment, his gaze wandered to your lips, and you stopped breathing.

his face slowly leaned into yours. you didn't know what you'd do if he was going to kiss you - a big part of you was ready to kiss back and the other part told you i'd be a mistake if you did.

but the moment was interrupted by alissa, who was calling your name because she wanted to ho over tomorrow’s events with you.

you also knew, based on alissa's critical gaze, she'd seen what was about to possibly happen. she has already given you a fair amount of warning about getting involved with hawthornes.

grayson then pulled away, awkwardly bidding you farewell, saying he'd see you later before he made his way out of the pool.

since then, the brewing tension between the two of you grew. it didn't help you already see him quite a bit during the day, then alone at night. apparently, it was evident to everyone there was something happening because thea calligaris cornered you.

"the last girl who was with grayson ended up dead."

you were unsure what to believe after that, you really didn't trust thea, but didn't mean it couldn't be true. 'don't rich people always have some murderous secret?'

you couldn't help it, and brought up the topic to grayson, who went very still at the mention. he lashed out at you before walking away. you suppose that confirmed it.

he avoided you for a few days, even skipped out on swimming lessons, so you kept yourself busy with school and hanging with avery and xander; solving the still ongoing mystery of the will. which you'd lowkey given up on because riddles were not your forte.

you felt bad your question, but he didn’t need to act so harshly toward you. so, you weren’t going to talk to him until he approached you first.

a knock sounded in your room when you were getting ready for bed. however, it didn't come from the door but from behind a large painting.

'i swear if this house is haunted, i'm running back home'

you tried to remove the painting, but it was stuck to the wall. then you discover a small button hidden on its frame. against better judgment, you press it, making the painting and the wall behind it move forward and slide to the left.

you knew there were various passages, but having one in your own room kind of freaked you out.

behind the moving wall stood grayson. you screamed at first, only seeing a figure in the dark. but then grayson quickly stepped into the light and closer to you to put a hand over your mouth. you were relieved to see him and not someone who would possibly murder you.

he didn’t remove his hand, you gave him an expectant look.

“just hear me out, before you demand i leave. i came to apologize.”

you nodded, allowing him to continue. he sighed and pulled his hand away. then he opened up to you for the first time, telling you about a girl name emily laughlin.

he explained her condition, how both hom and jameson were involved with her, and how she died.

the more the story went on the more you felt bad for both brothers, especially grayson since it seemed it was still affecting him. you even felt for emily, obviously, she lacked something in her life to play 2 brothers.

“i'm not complaining, but why did you decide to tell me all this” the two of you at some point made your way onto your bed, sitting side by side each other

he humorlessly laughs, and looks directly at you. “to be honest, i’m not even sure. all i know is when i look into your eyes, i have this urge to tell bare my soul to you.”

deja vu to the pool incident, you both didn’t say anything, just looked at each other, slowly leaning your face closer.

you were ready to be interrupted again, stopping the act before it can happen. but there was none, and your lips were now an inch apart, and your heart was beating like you just ran a marathon.

“tell me to stop right now, or i’m afraid i won’t be able to hold myself back.”

you said nothing.

wasn't like he gave you much reaction time anyway because he kissed you a second later - like you were the last person he was ever going to kiss.

and oh boy, was it a good kiss.

even when he left your room later that night, after much kissing you were still reeling from the shock of it all.

you didn't know what it meant for the two of you - did he like you?, was it a one-time thing?, or did he kiss you as a way to forget emily?

you were only sure of one thing right now - you felt something toward grayson that crossed the friend zone.

the kiss was never brought up over the days; grayson and you continued to work together and swim at night together almost every other day. you weren't sure if you were relieved or offended he never mentioned it.

you swore he got flirter since the kiss - his hand brushing against yours, standing very close behind you when reviewing something for the foundation, hands wandering when helping you swim, even a subtle flirty remark here and there.

you confided in avery about the events. she was insistent on the fact grayson liked you, and that he didn't seem like the type of have a fling nor rebound.

you wanted to believe he liked you, but then you would hear thea's voice in your head, reminding you of emily, and how he isn't over her.

it was driving you mad, so you convinced yourself you were simply reading into things. you weren't.

it all came to a head at a charity event the both of you helped plan for the foundation. you'd wore a beautiful namebrand designer custom-made gown, the fanciest dress you ever adorned.

however, the whole night grayson ignored you and made it clear he was avoiding you. anytime you approached him he gave an excuse to the person he was talking to that he had to go somewhere. or if you tried making eye contact, he was quick to turn his head the other direction. you didn't know what his deal was.

when you took to the outside for a breather, you sensed the arrival of his presence.

you scoff, "so now you wanna talk to me or what?"

he didn't respond, which upset you more. so you opted to walk back into the ballroom, but grayson stopped you.

"anytime i look at you too long, i think of our kiss that night. then i have to hold myself back from doing it another time. and if i kiss you, i thin- no. i know i won't be able to help but fall for you."

you were again dumbfounded by such confession. a habit that seemed to always happen in the presence of grayson hawthrone.

"i don't mind."

"neither do i."

he crashed your lips together with his in a flash.

unlike the first one, the kiss was messy, and messy was never a way you thought you'd describe the pristine grayson hawthorne.

his hands made their way to your face keeping you close while his mouth was almost devouring your lips. you steadied yourself by holding onto his shoulders because you did not trust your wobbly knees to stand on their own.

you pulled away first, heavily breathing like the night you almost drowned. your mind was still hazy, unable to properly form a sentence to speak.

grayson hands stayed, caressing your face gently,

"you can have my entire being if it means i get to kiss you like that whenever."

you both didn't end up returning to the charity that night. not while your makeup was smudged and all your lipstick was transferred on grayson's face.

though it was never verbally official, the two of you were evidently more than friends at that point.

you didn't even need to tell anyone of your newfound relationship because you'd come to find out jameson had seen the two of you that night, and he would could never resist a gossip about grayson. so the information easily made its way throughout the entire hawthorne manor.

in relation, grayson fought jameson. unfortunately, you weren't allowed to watch the fight because grayson didn't want you to witness any violence. you were lowkey disappointed because you and avery were ready to place bets.

alissa also made sure to have a talk with you both regarding public appearances. she advised it was better to keep it private because everyone was still reeling from yours and avery's newfound inheritance, and this news could possibly do damage to your media reputation. plus, it was better if grayson was advertised as single.

you personally didn't mind, you weren't the biggest fan of pda when you had a thousand new eyes on you. and alissa's advice was wise since you were new to the whole being a public figure thing. and well, you both lived together anyway.

grayson was more hesitant to agree, but mostly for your benefit he listened to alissa.

it was fun in a way, acting platonic in public then kissing when you got to the mansion or even the limousine. it was like having a secret relationship.

whenever interviews tried to insinuate something, you learned how to shut it down after much lessons on pr. but grayson liked to leave sly comments; only the two of you could understand.

"yeah, y/n's quite well at exploring the mouth of new things."

"y/n and i have become very acquainted with each other."

"you could say i'm into women who sink instead of swim."

it made you wanna laugh and playfully hit him all the same.

what really made your relationship step into public light was when rumors about you and jameson dating started circling around.

a photo of the two of you had been taken getting out of a limo together then entering a building, where people rumored you had a 'date'. in reality, both of you were there to talk to skye hawthorne after she was removed from the hawthorne mansion.

grayson was less than happy about these rumors, and jameson not denying anything to the press to get a rise out of grayson, was making things worse.

so, in a grayson hawthorne manner - he took care of things himself. he bought out all of the press and made them debunk the stories.

then to be even more dramatic, the next time the two of you were out together, he made a whole show of kissing you. even going as far as dipping you down in his arms before the kiss - felt straight out of a cheesy romcom. you couldn't say you didn't enjoy it, though.

the paparazzi had a field day with those photos & the two of your the front page of gossip magazines for weeks. alissa was ready to explode after only finding out the two of you went public from the media.

being in a public relationship was harder than being in a secret one. there were somehow even more eyes on you, picking your relationship apart. they mostly targeted your flaws and even took digs at your old diner job. even a surge of online hate came at your direction.

even grayson couldn't buyout every magazine or person who had a negative thing to say about you, and trust that he very much tried to.

but being official in public also had great pros. now, grayson and you could go out on dates wherever without worrying about hiding and disguises.

you couldn't stay anywhere too far at first because of the 'stay in the house for a year' rule, but you had dates at all sorts of fancy places. even though you were technically a net-worth nigher than him,now, he always insisted on paying the bill. ever the gentleman.

grayson knew how to plan one himself. a personal favorite of yours had to be the picnic in a hot air balloon.

but once the year was up, the first place gray took you was to paris, which he knew was always your dream. paris now seemed like a mundane dream compared to all of the past year's events.

still, paris was absolutely incredible, and being there with your boyfriend made it better - and helpful because he was fluent in french while you barely passed the high school class with a B.

seeing the eiffel tower was the best part, it was even more amazing up close. standing there with grayson, the grays started to cloud, and small drizzles of water came down.

your bodyguard (one oren forcefully implanted) had advised you both to head to the car before it started pouring. you were ready to follow along, but gray tugged your sleeve, stopping your movement.

you gave him a questioning gaze, so he held out his hand, asking you to dance.

you laughed and accepted nonetheless, even when the rain started to pour in more. the two of you began a clumsy (on your part) waltz across the pavement. both of your faces filled with blissful smiles. to this day, it is a favorite memory of yours.

it was even better when grayson gifted you a photo of you two that day, one he asked the bodyguard to take. now, the picture was framed next to the one grayson had taken & grayson hung a copy of it at the hawthorne foundation.

since dating, grayson's insomnia has improved immensely. it mainly had to do with the fact you two frequently sleep in his bed together. he jokes your his personal nyquil.

it's true when they say he sleeps like a deadman, even has a tiny snore - though he keep denying it. but he has some sort of sixth sense that enables him to know when you leave the bed.

like for instance, you needed to use the bathroom one night, and the moment you got up from the bed - grayson is up and asking where you were going.

the swimming lessons were not forgotten - you two still had that nightly routine. but you weren't becoming a michael phelps anytime soon. not when most of your lessons involved more kissing than swimming.

but hey, at least you've moved past the need for floaties. because grayson just carries you himself if it's too deep for you to swim.

he loves to buy anything that reminds him of you. a jewelry piece that matches your eyes, a dress he thinks would look pretty on you, a shift from your favorite film/show/artist, or even an item you offhandedly mentioned you wanted. he'd have them wrapped and ready to give to you the next moment he saw you.

much to our surprise, grayson was also the clingy type. his love language was more gift-giving but doesn't mean he wasn't a bit touch-starved.

he revels in hugs, kisses, and intimate moments. he always wants to hold hands when you both are walking together. jameson and nash love to tease him on it.

he has as a domestic side to him. he helps you put on your coat or even sometimes makes you wear it, keeps you on the side of the sidewalk not near the street, carries your purse or shopping bags, and helping you slip on your heels and shoes.

overall, grayson hawthorne was nothing less of an amazing boyfriend. except when he sees eve for the first time.

you were in the office of the foundation looking over a few files when you saw tobias' name mentioned then initials at the bottom. 'T.T.H.'

"huh, i thought your grandfather didn't have middle name."

grayson looked over your shoulder, "oh, he didn't. at least not until had changed his legal name less than a year before his passing."

"what is it?"

"tatersall. quite peculiar right?"

you laughed to yourself. perhaps he was trying to set you up with her grandson after all.

@itzchanelx @marigold-morelli

[crushculture03]

Ok I have a request idea. It’s the readers first time meeting Mattys Mom/family. It’s like Christmas or something. It’s all cute and then they fuck in Matty’s childhood bedroom lmao

Family Christmas

Summary : You go over to Mattys childhood home for Christmas, and finally get to meet his family. And also mess around a bit in his old bedroom

Paring : Matty Healy x afab! reader

Warnings : Smut, alcohol mention?, meeting the family.

Notes: This is such an adorable idea! i hope i did you proud anon!

"Matty, are you sure it'll be ok? I don't want to intrude on your family christmas" you say as matty packs both his and your suitcases in the trunk of his car. "Baby I'm positive, plus my mum is dying to meet you" he says, before slamming the trunk door shut. "Ok" you whisper, before slipping into the passenger seat. Matty quickly hops into the drivers seat and starts the car, before pulling out of the driveway.

You spend most of the car ride looking out the window, too much in your own head to talk to matty.

His hand being placed on your thigh is what snaps you out of your thoughts. "Y/n, baby it'll be ok I promise" matty says, trying his best to calm your nerves. "I know, but what if they don't like me?" you say, and turn to face him. "Baby they're going to love you, my mum couldn't stop telling me how excited she is for you to join us" Matty says, looking over at you quickly before focusing back on the road. "Ok, Sorry about all this, its just I've never met the family before so this is big '' you say, "I know baby, it'll be fun though I promise" he says, gently squeezing your thigh to comfort you.

After about an hour, you both arrived at his childhood home. "Wow this is beautiful" you say, as you admire the old victorian style home, "Isn't it? I always loved it when I was a kid, I'm excited to show you around!" he says, as he puts the car in park and turns it off. He turns to face you, the smile never leaving his face as he sees how excited you are to be there. "Ready to head inside?" he asks, "Ready as I'll ever be" you respond, before both of you get out of the car.

Matty grabbed both of your bags out of the trunk, while you carried the bag of presents, and the two of you walked up the gravel path to the front door. Matty carefully set the bags down and knocked on the door. You heard a voice shout "coming!" from inside the house, and a second later the door swung open to reveal his mom. "Hello My dears! Happy you made it here safe!" Denise said, before pulling her oldest son into a hug. Once she pulled away from Matty, her eyes met yours. "Ah you must be Y/N, wow matty she's even prettier in person!" she says, which causes you to blush. "It's a pleasure to meet you" you say, "You too dear! I'm so happy you were able to join us" Denise said, as she sent a warm smile your way, you could tell she wanted to hug you but couldn't since you had the bag of presents in your hand. "Now come inside before you freeze! I'll make some tea for you both while you settle in" she says, quickly ushering you both into the warm house.

" I'll show us to our room" Matty says, and you quickly follow him up the staircase. He opens the door to his childhood bedroom, and you smile as you take in the old decor. "Wow" you say, your eyes slowly scanning all the old rock poster he had hung up on the walls. "What?" he asks, "You were definitely a nerd for rock and roll weren't you healy" you tease, before placing the bag of present down on the floor. Matty looks over at you with a fake hurt expression, "Hey! Am not" he says, causing you to chuckle. "Are too" you say back, laughing at the childish exchange you guys are having.

Before you know it he's tackling you onto his bed, his hands going to your sides to tickle you. You giggle and squirm as he continues his tickle assault on you, "Ma-matty stop" you giggle, "Not until you apologize and say I'm the sexist man alive" he teases. You roll your eyes at him, "F-fine I'm sorry" you say as best as you can, while still being tickled. "Thank you baby but you're missing the last part" he says, you roll you eyes again and say "You're the sexist man alive", and with that he stops tickling you. "Glad you finally admitted it" he teases, still hovering over you on his bed, "You're so full of yourself Healy" you joke as you look up at your boyfriend. "Yeah but you love when you're full of m-" he says but you cut him off, "Matty!" you scold, your face going bright red at what he was about say. "What it's true" he says, before leaning down and kissing you. "Come on we should probably head downstairs before your mom thinks we're having sex" you joke, gently pushing him off of you and getting up from the bed. You reach you hand out for him to take, which he does, and the two of you make it back downstairs and to the kitchen where you see Denise preparing the tea.

"Oh Y/N, now that you don't have a bag in your hand I can finally give you a hug" she says, before wiping her hands on a towel and pulling you into a warm embrace. "I'm so glad you were able to join us" she whispers in your ear, which causes you to smile. "Thank you for inviting me" you say as you both pull away from the hug. "Of course! You're part of the family now Y/N, you're always welcome here" Denise says, before going back over to finish preparing the tea.

"See I told you she'd love you" Matty whispers in your ear, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. "But not as much as I love you of course" he says, before kissing your cheek, you smile and turn your head just enough so you could place a quick kiss on his lips. "I love you too" you whisper as you pull away from the kiss and smile.

After dinner, the four of you, the fourth being Lincoln, Denise's husband, who arrived a little before dinner, decided it would be a good idea to call it a night since tomorrow was going to be a busy day. "Good night My dears! Sleep well" Denise says as she gives both you and matty a kiss on the check and a hug goodnight. "Goodnight" you both say in response, before heading back to Mattys room. The two of quickly get changed into your Pajamas, before cuddling up in Mattys old bed and falling asleep.

The next day you were woken up by the familiar smell of bacon, you were about to elbow matty awake, but realized he wasn't beside you anymore. You quickly got out of bed and got dressed, before making your way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Good morning my love" matty says in a sing songy voice, as he walks up to you and kisses your cheek. "Goodmorning baby" you whisper, "I hope you're hungry dear because we have a full breakfast" Denise says from behind Matty. "I'm starving and everything looks and smells delicious" you say as you look at the array of breakfast foods on the kitchen counter.

After breakfast, you and matty spent the rest of the afternoon helping Denise cook and decorate for dinner tonight. "You know you're my favoirte of all of mattys girlfriends" Denise says as you both scoop out cookie dough onto sheet pans. You blush at her compliments "You're too sweet" you say, "I mean it, I've never seen him this happy before" she says, before placing her completed cookie sheet, as well as yours, into the oven. "I've never been this happy before" you say as a smile forms on your face, "He's my bestfriend and my boyfriend, what more could I ask for? I mean I never knew love like this could exist till I met him" you finish. "Aww young love" Denise coos as she pulls you into a quick hug, "I'll clean up here if you wanna go find Matty" she says as she picks up the dishes, "No, let me help, after all I did make half of this mess" you joke, but Denise shakes her head "I insist dear go find Matthew" she chuckles as she nudges you out of the kitchen.

You make you way up the stairs, knowing you'll probably find matty in his room. And sure enough as soon as you get to the top step you hear the soft strumming of his guitar coming from his childhood bedroom. You slowly make your way to his room and carefully open the door. "Beautiful as always" you say as you lean against the door frame. Matty stops playing, and turns to face you, "Why thank you my love" he says and places his guitar down, before walking up to you. "Did you have fun baking cookies with my mum?" he asks, his hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you closer. "Yeah it was alot of fun" you say, and reach up to brush a few stray curls from his forehead. "I'm excited to meet your brother and the rest of your family tonight" you say, "Me too, it's going to be fun but you let me know if they ever get too overwhelming ok?" he says, you nod your head before he places a soft kiss to your forehead.

It was now late in the evening, the events of the night were already underway. Most of mattys immediate and extended family was stuffed inside the house, all ready to celebrate the holiday together. For you however, it was hard to focus on what was going on at the party, because you couldn't stop staring at your boyfriend, who looked incredibly stunning.

You watched from afar as he effortlessly conversed with one of his cousins. You felt your heart speed up as he made eye contact with you, quickly sending a wink in your direction, before going back to the conversation. You don't know what had come over you that evening, maybe it was the wine you had been drinking or maybe it was just matty, but every bone in your body wanted him, no needed him.

You decided to slip away from the living room and make your way up to his bedroom, hoping that maybe not seeing him would help you cool down just enough so you could return back to the party. But as you laid down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling which was littered with tiny glow and the dark stars, you couldn't help but imagine all the things you wanted him to do to you in that moment.

Just as you were about to slip your hand under the waist band of you skirt, you heard the door open. You quickly pulled your hand away and sat up to see who was there, "Matty?" you say, recognizing the familiar silhouette. "Hey baby" he says, the words roll of his tongue effortlessly, making the urge to squeeze your thighs together for relief even stronger. "Wh-what are you doing up here?" you ask as you see him gently close and lock the door behind him before walking over to his bed. "Well I went to go see if you were ok, I saw you slip away upstairs and came to check on you. Now i see you were ok, just horny" he teases. You blush furiously as you realize you have been caught "How can I not when you look like that" you say, motioning towards him. He chuckles lowly, before kicking off his shoes and hovering over you on the bed. "I do look pretty hot don't i?" he says, gently pushing you back down on the bed. You roll your eyes and giggle "Way to ruin the moment Healy" you tease. He smirks at you and slowly runs his hand up your thigh, stopping it right over your soaked panties. "Mm your body says otherwise baby" he whispers and slowly applies pressure to your clothed core, causing you to moan in pleasure.

"Shh baby don't want anyone to hear how good I make you feel" he says, before hooking his fingers in the elastic of your underwear and slowly pulling them down your legs. You gasp as the cold air hits your naked core, "Please matty" you whisper, desperate for his touch. "What do you want baby?" he whispers, slowly placing hot open mouth kisses to your neck. "You" you whimper as you feel his hand make its way back up to your core. He chuckles lowly "you want my cock darling? Is that it" he teases, as his finger slowly rubs circles on your clit. You have to bite your lip to hold back your moans. "What me to fuck you like the slut you are baby? My familys down stairs and you're up here just begging to be fucked" he taunts. "Please matty, I need you" you beg, your hands reach out and unbuckle his belt. He watches as you slowly unzip his black dress pants, and groans when he feels you palm him over his boxers. "You got a condom?" you ask, desperate to have more than his fingers inside of you. He quickly removes his fingers from you and gets off the bed in search for a condom.

After finding one in his old sock drawer he comes back to you. He slowly pulls his boxers down just enough to reveal himself to you. You watch closely as he gently rolls the condom on himself and goes back to hovering over you. "Remember be quiet baby" he whispers, before lining himself up with your entrance and slowly pushing in. He captures your lips in his, swallowing your moans as he quickly sinks deeper inside of you. He gives you a minute to adjust before gently rocking his hips back and forth. Your fingers find their way to his curls and quickly tug on them as you hold back your moans.

"You take me so well baby" he whispers in your ear, as he speeds up his thrusts. "Matty" you moan, not being able to hold it back as you feel him hit a deeper spot inside of you. One of his hands makes its way up to your neck and applies a bit of pressure "Shh or they're hear baby" he scolds. The  pressure on your neck and the way his cock is continuously hitting the sweet spot inside of you begins to become to much, causing you to feel the familiar tenison build in your stomach.

Matty catches you by surprise, when he flips you guys over, his back now on the bed and you straddling his lap. After a second to adjust to the new position, you quickly rock your hips back and forth, having to hold onto his chest for support as the pleasure begins to become to much.

All it takes to make you finish is matty to thrusting up into you every time you rock your hips forward. You collapse onto his chest as your orgasm washes over you. You feel him thrust into you a few times more before he stalls inside of you. You look up at him and send him a dopey grin "I love you" you whisper, before you lean up and place a kiss on his lips. "I love you too" he says, before gently helping you off of him. He places you down on the bed, before getting up and disposing of the condom.

"We should probably head back down before people come to look for us" you say, carefully getting off the bed and going to retrieve your underwear. "If they ask us where we went i'll just say how needy you were for my co-" but you elbow him before he can finish. "If you say that I'll punch you" you joke, as you fix the collar of his shirt, so it doesn't look like you just had sex. "Aw come on you love me" he teases, "True, but would rather not have your family know about our sex lives" you joke, as you go to fix your hair and outfit in the mirror. "Come on lets head downstairs" you say, as you grab his hand and lead both of you out the door and back down to the party . Everyone had been so drunk or distracted that they didn't even notice that you both had been gone for 15 minutes, and that there was a hickey forming on your neck.

[neteyamslovrr]

REQUESTS

hi everyone!

as I've gone through my requests a good few have sat there as I am having immense trouble trying to find an idea or connection to the request.

so, I am going to put some of the requests out for the talented writers to use!

request one: anon

Hello author! How are you? I would like to request Ao'nung x fem reader where he let his hair down for the first time and the reader just falls in love right away ykwim 🤭 Thank you! I hope you have a good day

request two: anon

after the war in the way of water you and your family could finally go home but you didnt wanna leave.. After the weeks (lets pretend you guys stayed there for a year) you and your family had been there you got really close whit Aoung ( the chiefs son) so when you heared the news that you guys were leaving you were devestated. But your father got close whit the chief so they agreed to that twice a year they would come visit you guys in the forest for around 2 weeks.

And you love it so much when they visit, it’s super fun to see the metkayina family not begin able to climb trees, ride on the «horses», fly the dragons and do the things the omatikaya clan can do, so you love to teach them as you are the oldest sully✨ And one day you wanted to show Aoung the view ontop of the Eywa tree, while you guys are there you confess to him and he gets all flustered and take your hand in his and say..

- I see you

request three: @wowowoaoh

can i request love triangle between metkayina reader and aonung and neteyam where the two men are fighting for y/n's attention and ends up annoying her :)) keep up the good work!!

request four: anon

I wanted to request Ao'nung x metkayinan! reader where to everybody else it’s obvious that the two are in love but too afraid to confess and so one day Rot'xo is teasing Ao’nung by flirting with Y/N and when Ao’nung seems them almost kiss he just gets real possessive and pushes him out of the way and confesses to Y/N? She obvs feels the same, maybe a bit spicy fluff and they make tsaheylu? 💕

request five: anon

hiii luvvv your fics especially the aonung ones. So i would like to request an aonung x female reader. Like she went after loak to find him cause u know aonung. And she couldn’t find him and she accidentally hit her head or something. And she was found unconscious and the sullys kinda blamed aonung and he totally regret and was mortified (actually the reader and aonung has a romantic relationship but she was angry cause of the incident) And when she woke up, she couldn’t remember aonung and aonung was like crying but, he did everything he can to help her remember there times together. I hope u consider this hehe

i'm so sorry to everyone who's request I couldn't fulfill. :( If someone does write these requests please tag me or tag the person who requested them so I can reblog!!

[vivalarevolution]

𝓢𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓞𝓯 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱

Xavier Thorpe x Witch Reader

Request: „Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Xavier Thorpe x fem. reader where the reader is a new student at nevermore and sits next to Xavier in Mrs. Thornhills class and he tries to impress her with his powers (like in the scene where he made the spider come to life)‟

A/N: Request from anon. I changed one thing about the reader skills/ powers. It's not my best work but as always I hope you all still gonna like it. 

English is not my native language so I am sorry for any mistakes.

She felt unwanted eyes on her, again.

However, despite the fact that the situation repeated itself since she set foot in a new school, each time she chose to ignore it. She knew who the irises following her every move belonged to anyway, so she quickened her pace to disappear from their radar, as she had done many times before.

When she found a secluded corner, she leaned against it, sighing. She'd only been here a week and she'd had enough.

Her father told her about possibilities and freedom, oh how easily she was outsmarted by him. Now she was stuck in a strange place, far from home, in a school for "people like her". However, she soon found out that this term was not entirely true.

Nevermore Academy was supposed to be something of a safe oasis for children who were extraordinary, in the worst sense of the word. But Y/n quickly noticed that the teenagers weren't much different from normal people, well, except for the hidden talents they'd inherited. Girl was one of them. 

Being the ancestor of one of Salem's oldest witches had its advantages and disadvantages, although she saw more negatives than positives. That's why she hid her abilities.

-Y/n! - girl's voice called her.

The teenager closed her eyes, only to open them after a moment and turn around to look at the well-known blonde.

-Enid -replied the witch, tilting her head gently to the side, in a silent act announcing that she ,could continue.

-I was looking for you- she replied, smile did not come out of her face - Botany classes will start soon, and you are hiding.

Y/n sometimes wondered how a person could be so happy and carefree. But she was never able to come up with a satisfactory answer.

-Then it's better that they don't wait for us - she said with a slight, almost imperceptible smile, going with the werewolf to class.

Her steps, although slow, still led her to her goal at a much faster pace than she would like. Entering the great conservatory, without stopping, she went to the designated place.

Xavier was already sitting in his seat, lost in his notebook, sketching something Y/n couldn't see. Only when she sat next to him in the field of vision appeared the image of a black spider. Before the boy could see that she was looking his way, her head quickly turned to the desk, making it look like he was looking at her, not the other way around.

It might sound strange, even scary, but the brunette liked to look at her, especially when the teenager was so close to him. Every detail on her face was much clearer then. Her thick and long eyelashes, behind which beautiful irises were hidden, full lips or the flash of her thick hair, which seemed to be soft as silk from a distance. Xavier noticed all this, and day by day he became more and more addicted.

Before he knew it, he was smitten with her, and as if sensing it, she began to run away from him. Each step she took was further away from him, which meant that he was never able to catch her, or talk to her, even for a moment.

When Y/n's eyes finally rested on him, he responded by pushing the notebook towards her. Her brow furrowed in consternation, and he merely smiled at her, extending his hand to hover over the drawing. After a while, the animal came out of the paper, leaving only a gray halo behind. The arthropod moved a few steps. The witch did not let him out of her sight.

-I doubt Y/n will be impressed by your tricks, Mr. Thorpe - said Mrs. Thornhill unexpectedly, when she came to class.

-Admit that you're a little impressed - the green-eyed boy muttered.

The girl didn't answer for a long moment, too focused on the spider. Shivers involuntarily passed over her body and before she could've said something, the animated drawing burst into flames. Most of the students looked at her with a mixture of admiration and surprise, but she didn't care. Holding her hands, she occasionally ran her long fingernails over the rings to distract herself from the outside world.

Xavier cursed under his breath, he thought he would impress her, but all he did was make her hide even more.

It was nighttime when Y/n received an unexpected message.

With the end of class, she locked herself in her room, content to finally be able to breathe fully. Dressed and refreshed, she spent time on the floor, drowning in the books of witchcraft that she read several times before. The sound of music filled the room as well as the sound of her own voice as she hummed along with the band's lead singer.

Only a quiet but strong blow pulled her out of her bubble.

Standing up, she walked over to a large, tall window. At first glance, everything seemed normal, but when her eyes began to wander, a black cat appeared in the field of her vision, or rather its sketch.

The teenager sighed and opened the window. Curious about the explanations. There was a card in the animal's mouth and an invitation on the paper.

-Meet me at nine o'clock by the fountain - she recited, frowning slightly in thought ,knowing exactly who the sender was.

Thinking, she stared at the landscape outside the window, then she shifted her irises to the cat, who was still waiting, sitting on the windowsill. Involuntarily, she raised her hand and stroked his ear, as if hoping that it would feel something, even though it was only a drawing.

Before she could think carefully about her decision, her legs led her towards the exit. Right underneath the stone construction.

Xavier was already waiting for her. Her school uniform had been replaced with a long-sleeved black mid-thigh dress and leather boots. The boy didn't know what to think, it was the first time he saw the teenage witch in something else, in something close to her comfort zone.

-You really came - he remarked, not hiding the surprise in his voice.

-I really came - she replied, clasping her hands behind her - Your form of invitation was quite interesting. I was wondering if you matched the cat to my species or if it was just a coincidence.

-Yes...I mean no - brunette tangled up in words, pushing himself away from the fountain to approach Y/n - Your reaction to my previous drawing got me thinking. I preferred to create something that you should like this time.

-I'm just not a fan of small, crawling creatures. But I appreciate your gesture - she said honestly, which made Xavier smile.

-I'm glad to hear that - he replied, looking at the girl.

-What is the reason for your invitation? - she asked suddenly.

-I wanted to apologize. I guess you didn't want to show off your abilities - he remarked, scratching the back of his neck.

The gaze of the teenager, who was directed at the fountain near them, moved to the green-eyed boy.

-You have no reason to apologize - she announced -It was my instinct that worked the way it did - she added before taking a few steps back so she could turn freely and head back to the dorm.

-Wait! - Thorpe called her, grabbing her wrist, and she stopped, looking at him with furrowed brows -Would you like to go for a walk?- he asked with a trace of hope in his voice.

The girl shifted her gaze to the building behind her, then back to the tall teenager in front of her, who was awaiting for her response. Y/n nodded with a slight smile.

-I would love to - she said, nodding imperceptibly in confirmation.

The two of them moved forward. The witch put all her trust in the hands of Xavier, who led them to a place known only to him. Her heart was beating hard from the adrenaline, and surprisingly, she welcomed it. She hadn't had so much fun in a long time, even if it was just sneaking through school property.

Eventually they came to something that looked like a shed. Y/n involuntarily approached the body of her companion, looking curiously at the wooden building. When the brunette turned his head to check the girl's condition, he found her close to him, closer than he expected. Satisfied, he lowered his head to be level with her ear.

-This is my studio - he confessed, as if proud of this fact - I cleaned it, so Weems let me use it.

-We are alone - the girl noticed, approaching his face, which involuntarily covered with a blush - You don't have to whisper - she added, then moved away, walking towards the entrance.

Thorpe followed her with his eyes until she had disappeared through the door, then he moved on, quickening his pace so that the girl wouldn't wait. When he entered, Y/n looked around intrigued, but kept her hands to herself, watching from a distance.

-You have talent - she admitted after a long moment.

-Thanks - he said, following her like a shadow. -This is my safe space. Art makes me relax - he added, standing behind her as she paused at another of the many paintings.

-It must be nice to have your own sanctuary - the teenager said - I often dream of something like this, that wouldn't be my dorm room. Life at Nevermore can be...overwhelming - she confessed, rubbing her hands together in comfort.

-Really?- he asked, eager to hear more, happy to finally be able to talk to the object of his interest.

-Yhm- muttered the witch -That's quite an interesting paradox. An outcast feels like an outcast in a school for outcasts - she noticed, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, the boy made her feel surprisingly better, surprisingly calmer.

-You can always talk to me if you want - Xavier said, shrugging -I don't bite.

-I appreciate it - she replied, not sure what else to add.

When silence fell between the two, Y/n realized how close they were, how intimate the situation seemed, and the brunette slowly began to think the same, his green eyes not even for a moment stopping looking at the face in front of him.

Her eyes wandered over the boy's face, trying to find a starting point. Her slightly parted lips as well as the smell of lavender and gooseberry did not help Thorpe concentrate. Only the girl's frown woke him up from his trance.

Following her gaze, the teenager met an image, but not just any image. The canvas depicted a girl sitting on one of the stone benches, lost in thought, her face calm and her eyes distant. There was a sheet next to the easel, which must have been moved by a gust of wind when Y/n stepped inside.

-It's...me - she whispered in shock, walking towards her likeness.

-The first day, I couldn't forget you. So I started painting - he tried to explain, keeping his voice stoic -You surrounded yourself with this mysterious aura that drew me in even more. You were different from the rest...I talk nonsense - he muttered, closing his eyes.

The girl turned to face Xavier. Then , she unexpectedly put her hand around him, standing on her fingers to kiss the corner of his mouth.

-I quite like your nonsense - she confessed ,almost brushing his lips because of the closeness of their faces.

Xavier took her confession as a signal to action. Placing his hands on the witch's waist, he slowly brushed her lips, and seeing no objection, he did it again, and again, and again.

They said romance was dead and Y/n had to agree. But the electrifying touch of the boy's hand, the warmth of his lips, and the addictive scent that surrounded him, made her not disappointed by the death of romanticism. She preferred the version where she could’ve indulge her feelings without having to play cat and mouse.

And now that she had tasted the forbidden fruit, she was not going to stop. 

Neither did he.

[squeamishdionysus]

May I request a Luisa Madrigal x reader in which the reader is absolutely wowed by her strength and is just so enamored with her. Maybe with a bonus of her being flustered. I’m a simp for big strong women

What a Woman!

Pairing: Luisa Madrigal x Reader

CW: none to note other than major simping.

Summary: you are absolutely enamored by the third oldest girl in the Madrigal family, leaving Luisa surprised and honestly flustered.

Notes: oh my god I am so pissed. I had a full draft written out and everything with a cute little ending and tumblr messed it up so it deleted everything I had edited. Well, I'm sorry anon, but I'm afraid this small drabble will have to do because honey, I am so done rn.

Masterlist

It was honestly a running joke amongst all of the villagers just how smitten you were with Luisa Madrigal.

Of course, everybody in the Encanto admired Luisa to some extent. She was always willing to help whoever needed it and worked so hard to do so that everyone was impressed. She never seemed to crack under pressure, balancing multiple tasks on her shoulders daily and always managing to tackle them with grace and professionalism. She was a sight to behold and a force to be reckoned with that was always humble and helpful to those around her.

You, however, saw all of those things and more, taking not only her talents and strengths in mind, but her personality and flaws as well, all of which made her all the more beautiful to her. You saw how anxious she could get, saw the moments where she seemed to falter under the weight of everything around her and allow herself a moment of vulnerability. You saw her when she'd desperately chug down another cup of coffee, just to have enough energy to get through the day. You saw the relief on her face when she'd finally get everything done and allowed herself to just sit.

You heard her little voice cracks and her hesitant laughs, as well as her venting to the donkeys. You heard her groans and saw her winces as she'd put down a heavy building, and you felt the pain she did when she'd rub her arms.

But even so, you were still absolutely amazed by her.

Anytime Luisa would come by or do work around your home, you'd be absolutely awestruck and unable to do anything. You could be in the middle of pouring a drink for your parents, and they'd have to smack the pitcher away because you were too distracted by her to remember what you were even doing. You could be cooking and you wouldn't even bother to look down at the food until you smelt smoke, hurrying to get whatever it was off the stove and frantically waving the small fire that had started down. Anytime she was outside, lifting things or carrying donkeys, your jaw would be dropped and your eyes would be wide, and you wouldn't break your focus for anything except somebody teasing you.

It was clear to everyone that you had it down bad for the young woman, including the other Madrigals.

"Hey, hey," Camilo said one night at dinner. "Who am I?"

He shifted into you, opening his eyes real wide and letting his jaw hang down as far as it would go. Mirabel would laugh, and Isabel would eagerly play along.

"Ohh, it's (Name) everytime they see Luisa," she said, her eyes slowly looking over to her sister to give her a sly look.

Luisa widened her eyes, coughing and sputtering as she choked on an empanada. Her face was bright red, and when she finally managed to swallow and calm down, she let out an awkward stammer.

"U-um, what do you mean?" She laughed awkwardly, trying to shrug it off nonchalantly but ultimately failing.

"Oh come on, it's obvious what she means," Agustin said, placing his glass of water down. "Have you seen the way they gawk at you, Luisa? They've nearly burned down their parents' house three times because they're too busy admiring you."

Pepa nodded, recalling the many times she had to make it rain to put out said fires. "It's true! They're no longer allowed in the kitchen because of it."

Dolores looked around before leaning in to whisper, "if anybody ever asks them about you, they gush for about 15 minutes. Either that, or they mess up whatever they're doing because they got distracted." She let out a small "hmm!" and went back to eating.

Luisa's face was on fire at this point. It was no secret that they had also admired you from afar for a bit, your clumsy yet kind nature reminded her a lot of her father and sister, and your beauty reminded her of her other sister and mother. However, she had no idea that you might've been interested in her as well.

She glanced over at Camilo, still shifted into you, who blew a kiss over to her, only to get hit in the face with flowers from Isabel.

Abuela gave them both a stern look, and they both quieted down, Camilo transforming back into himself and Isabel innocently taking a bite out of some avocado. With that, Abuela turned to Luisa and smiled warmly.

"Luisa, I think you should consider talking with (Name). I think the two of you could possibly be a very nice match."

Well, Luisa couldn't say no to Abuela.

[letsasoiaftogether]

Doran Martell x Stark!Reader

IMAGINE...being the oldest child to Ned and Cat, escaping KL, and ending up a refuge of House Martell - while there, despite the age gap, you find yourself falling in love with the Prince of Dorne, Doran Nymeros Martell.

Word Count: 4,630

Warning: None! I don’t believe anything is detailed in a way that could be uncomfortable for anyone who reads! Age-Difference (not sure if this needs a warning but here ya go!)

Other: female!reader/SHOW AGES!

A/n: I’m always excited to write for/better my writing for the Martells! I’m very rusty but that just means I need to write for them more often ;)  I hope you all enjoy this!

A/n2: TO THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS MONTHS AGO...I am deeply sorry for the VERY LONG wait! I hope it’s (somewhat) what you wanted, at the least (if you remember requesting it, that is)! Either way! Enjoy!

*

You hadn’t meant to end up there.

To be honest, you hadn’t even meant to hide on the ship that took you there. The gold cloaks were looking for you – they had already taken your father and eldest, younger sister as hostages. Your youngest sister had gone missing – you panicked.

The ship left Blackwater while you hid in the hold below. The realization that you were leaving King’s Landing and had no idea where you were going was immediate. But what could you do? The fear and chance that the captain could turn the ship around and sell you to the Lannisters was too great.

So, you hid in the hold of the ship, scared and seasick for at least a week before the ship was anchored at port once more.

It was dark, and the crew worked quickly to unload the cargo so they could go to the brothels nearby. In their haste, they didn’t notice the hooded figure slip past them and off the ship. Your heart was pounding as you stepped off the wooden ramp, your fingers tightly clutching your hood so to keep it up and over your face.

You went to the nearest building once you reached the little port town, thankfully it was an inn and you were able to slip through the thick crowd of people to a table in the corner to the left of the bar.

You were shaking and you felt like at any moment you would start crying. Your thoughts were spiraling no matter how you tried to clear them, to think about what you were going to do. You were away from the lions, but where had you landed yourself?

Most of the people around you appeared to speak the common tongue, at least, and you sat there watching and listening to the conversations happening around you. Something prickled at the back of your mind, trying to give you a hint toward who they were – where you were – but your anxiety and exhaustion made you slow to understand.

And then you saw the sigil on one of the men’s arms and you gasped, sitting up straighter as you stared wide eyed at the symbol.

House Dalt. Their castle is Lemonwood. Lemons on a purple background…

Like your sister, Sansa, you had memorized most – if not all – the sigils of Westerosi houses from a young age. As the older, twin sister to the heir of Winterfell, you had always believed it your duty to know as much as you could about not only the bannermen who would follow your Father, and now Robb, into battle but also the sworn houses to the other Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms.

You had always promised yourself you would know everything about everyone so you would, at the least, have the upper hand of knowing your enemy even if you couldn’t physically beat them.

That sigil meant you were still in Westeros.

Dorne, to be exact.

Dorne…

House Martell hated the Lannisters – everyone knew it. But did they hate the lions enough to give you safe passage back to White Harbor? Or would they sell you back to Queen Cersei if the price was right?

Standing, ignoring the nervousness and suspicion in your gut, you approached the table and cleared your throat. “Excuse me, Ser?” you knew that House Dalt was made up of landed knights, and made sure to use their knightly titles when you finally found the nerve to speak up.

It took a moment and only after another man, whose clothing was baren of any sigils or symbols that would tie him to any particular house, had poked the Dalt knight in the side and gestured toward you for the knight to finally turn his attention to you.

“Ser,” you cleared your throat a second time as your nerves threatened to take over and prevent you from speaking, “How far away from Sunspear are we?”

“Who’s asking?” the man’s voice was heavily accented, definitely Dornish, and his dark gaze squinted up at you as he tried to make out the features of your nearly – entirely – concealed face.

The man was suspicious of you, as if he was immediately on edge from some unspoken threat you had made toward his liege, and so you didn’t bother to speak in fancy words or in a round about way. You were as direct as you possibly could be as you said, “Someone trying to gain an audience with the Prince of Dorne, Ser, now please. Where are we? How far from Sunspear have I found myself?”

“Planky Town. You came by ship?” a light, flirty voice sounded from behind you followed by a firm hand landing on your ship while a body pressed into your opposite side. It was a bar maid, dressed in a simple gown that fell to her knees and showed off plenty of her cleavage. Her hair was black, her skin was olive, and her eyes stared at you with a dark, lustful look as if she was trying to envision you naked.

Your cheeks turned a bright pink at her look, but you were too focused on getting to a Martell that you didn’t allow yourself time to think on it for too long.

The barmaid continued with, “Must have, or else you would know where you are.” She laughed, the men at the table laughing along with her.

Planky Town. That explains the floating city then.

You hadn’t really noticed the planks until you had reached the inn, and you couldn’t remember ever learning about how the settlement was literally floating, but it was unique for sure.

“Yes, I came by ship.” You didn’t mention you came from King’s Landing or that you came by accident.

The knight from House Dalt hummed and got to his feet. He was tall, but not too much taller than you. Like Robb and Sansa, you were rather tall yourself. “What is a girl, who came by ship to Planky Town, looking to get from House Martell?”

It wasn’t lost on you that the other men at the table and the two nearest had stood and that the barmaid had scurried back to the bar.

Trying to be brave, you stood as straight as you could and said, hoping that it was enough of an explanation, “Safety from lions.”

*

Sunspear wasn’t too far away once you had been lifted onto a sand steed – horses bred in Dorne who were quick and had a high endurance to heat – with Ser Deizel Dalt (as he had introduced himself) riding with you and the group of knights had set off.

No further answers were demanded from you, and you were grateful for that. You were trying to get your thoughts and facts straight, trying to figure out what you were going to say and how you were going to convince the Prince of Dorne to help you.

The Spear Tower and the Tower of the Sun. The Spear Tower holds prisoners, noble ones according to the stories. And the Tower of the Sun is where the seat of the Prince(ess) of Dorne can be found.

Sunspear was larger than you had expected, and try as you might, you weren’t able to take in everything you passed and glanced over as you were led through the alleys and the winding labyrinth that led to the Old Palace where House Martell made their seat of power.

Men and Women with the sigil of a sun with a spear going diagonally through it on their clothes met your traveling party as you entered the courtyard. They were guards, you realized with wide eyes, a part of you gleefully watching the women who appeared just as respected as the men. You had always admired that about Dorne. Their relaxed attitude about the so called “gentler sex.”

The North was a little more relaxed than the southern Kingdoms, but nowhere like Dorne.

“…says she needs to speak to the Prince.” Ser Deizel was saying as the guards’ turned their attention to you.

“Her hood. Lower it.” The man who appeared to oversee the others demanded in a gruff tone. His voice was accented, but it didn’t sound Dornish. Not as Dornish as others, at least.

You didn’t resist as the knight seated behind you did as he was told, not ungently but you felt a few strands of hair get pulled in the process causing you to flinch and lean away from him some.

“Said something about wanting safety from lions.” Another man in your traveling party spoke up, and it was clear that everyone knew the meaning behind his words as they all suddenly grew tense and some even cursed.

One of the women spoke in a language you didn’t recognize (later, you would come to know it to be Rhoynish), but you thought you heard Lannister amongst the accented, fast paced speech.

Everyone climbed off the horses a moment later after a big man had appeared and spoke to the overseer, and you felt your stomach flip with a little bit of fear as one of the Martell guards grabbed your arm and pulled you away from Ser Deizel – leading you inside and not giving you a chance to find out if the knight and his companions were leaving already or if they were simply being led somewhere else.

You were taken directly to the Tower of the Sun, to the throne room where two thrones sat at the end of the hall. The ceiling was a dome of gold and leaded glass. The room itself was round and you turned in circles, eyes wide as you took in the colorful panels of glass that made up the walls and the windows, the floors were marble, and everything was exotic and beautiful.

On the dais, where the two thrones sat, stood a dark-haired man with a widow’s peak, his eyes were just as dark and his playful smile was as much a threat as it was teasing.

He had to be about the age of your Father, only a few years older if he had already lived four decades. He was dressed in yellows and oranges, and as the guards and you got closer to the dais he settled his gaze on you.

“Prince Oberyn,” the guards acknowledged with quick bows of respect, “She arrived at Planky Town seeking an audience with Prince Doran.”

Prince Oberyn Martell. Younger brother to Prince Doran and the late Princess Elia. He was known as the Red Viper.

He practiced at the Citadel for a time, if my studies are correct.

You wondered what it was he had learned, and if he had simply grown bored with the Maesters, or if he had grown disillusioned by something while there?

The Viper hummed and waved his hand about, “My brother will be here shortly. We were sleeping.”

“My apologies for waking you up, My Prince, it was not my intention.” You spoke up before anyone could stop you or before anyone else could talk, “My name is Y/n of House Stark. Ned Stark is my father. He’s been arrested by House Lannister, my sister Sansa is a hostage, my other sister Arya is…missing or...or….” dead.

Tears prickled in your eyes, and you looked down, closing your eyes as you tried to reign in your emotions. The last thing you wanted was to mention a dead sister in King’s Landing. That was the last thing you would want to bring up seeing how the Dornish Prince had lost his own sister.

Once you had reopened your eyes and focused your gaze back on the Dornish Prince, a Prince who was watching you intently – silently – waiting for whatever else you had to say, you dropped to your knees. Hoping it would show how serious you were, how desperate you were, you hung your head and whispered, “…Prince Oberyn, I am entirely at the mercy of your House. My father is a traitor, my sister a hostage, and I…I barely escaped the gold cloaks when they came looking for me. I have found myself on your shores begging for refuge and…and charity.”

The room fell silent as you sat there, hands clutched in your lap and your gaze full of tears, locked on the marble beneath you.

The silence stressed for so long that you begun to wonder if you were being spoken to and you just couldn’t make sense of anything – as if you had suddenly lost the ability to hear.

Just as you went to lift your head, to look for Prince Oberyn’s gaze, there was a warm finger beneath your chin – lifting your head back for you until your eyes met the gentle brown of another man. A man who was smiling sadly but kindly at you from the wheeled chair he was seated in, a blanket thrown over his legs.

Prince Doran.

He suffers from gout. He uses the chair to get around…

Eyes widening, you were quick to greet him with the respect you could muster, even placing a gentle kiss to the knuckles of the hand he had grabbed your face with.

“Rise, My Lady. Let us talk somewhere more comfortable.” The Prince of Dorne’s voice was as soft as his look and you were more than willing to do as he suggested.

A large man with a longaxe strapped to his back stood behind the Prince of Dorne’s chair. No doubt, he was the Captain of the Houseguard for the Martells. He was definitely imposing enough.

“Thank you, Prince Doran. As I told your brother, I am deeply sorry for imposing. I’m especially regretful to have pulled you out of bed. I, admit, I am unaware of the time.” The words felt rehearsed, your tongue felt thick and heavy. You tried to think of how Sansa would say things. She was always so much better at pretty words that people would want to hear. You were more your father’s child. There was only so much, you believed, that one could say with words before they became nothing but nonsense.

The Prince of Dorne brushed away your apology with a simple, “It’s alright, I assure you.”

Soon enough, you were led into a smaller room, a gallery by the looks of it and gladly accepted the seat offered to you as you were left alone with the two Martell Princes’ and the Captain, Aero Hotah.

“Your Father has been charged with treason; the crown does have one of your sisters but the other appears to be missing if our informant within the capital is to be trusted. Word is that Winterfell has called its banners and the Westerlands are currently ripping through the Riverlands for some…unknown offense.” Prince Doran wasted no time in explaining the situation to you, most of which you had no idea was happening and could do nothing but sit there and stare, wide eyed and horrified at what was being told to you.

“Robb called the banners? He’s only…we’re only…he can’t! He’s never led anything like that before!” you were on your feet and pacing, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks as your brain spiraled. “I must get home. I must be there. He can’t…he can’t do that alone.” Clutching your hands to your chest, you turned to look at Prince Doran, “I…are there any ships that travel from Planky Town to White Harbor? Robb cannot march south. Starks die in the south.”

Your throat squeezed at your own words, the truth of them settling deep in your gut.

Grandfather, Uncle Brandon, Aunt Lyanna.

Father and Sansa if they’re deemed useless.

Arya…

It was Prince Doran who pulled you from your thoughts, drawing your attention back to him. “We can offer you refuge, Lady Stark. You may remain here, and you will be safe from House Lannister and any of your enemies.”

“I can’t. I must get home.” You tried to argue, to explain why you were needed back at Winterfell more than you needed to stay there and stay safe.

But you knew there was no way to get home. Not now. Not with the Seven Kingdoms quickly spiraling into war. Any ship in the seas around Westeros would be allied to one House or another, and it was unlikely they would be for House Stark or any Northern House with a port. Trade was more likely to be for the Reach, Crownlands, and the Vale.

History is repeating itself, My Prince. How am I supposed to sit here and let harm come to my brother? To my sisters?

“Doing nothing is the hardest thing we can do.” Prince Doran had whispered as he wiped the tears from your cheeks, “But…acting can do more harm than good.”

He dismissed Prince Oberyn and Aero Hotah as you broke down into silent sobs.

*

“Lord Stark was beheaded. His council called for mercy, to send him to the Night’s Watch, it is rumored. The boy-King decided to act mercilessly.”

“Winterfell was attacked, supposedly by the Iron Born. There were no survivors.”

“They’re calling it the Red Wedding. Many were taken hostage, most of the Northern army was slain. The King in the North…Lady Stark…both were killed.”

“…as I have said so many times, history is repeating itself.” The words fell from your lips, almost too softly for anyone in the room to hear you, as you stood staring out the window of the chambers you had been given within the Water Gardens – where Prince Doran had taken up residence some time before the War of the Five Kings had broken out. “Grandfather. Uncle. Aunt. For my child or Sansa’s…Rickard became Eddard, Brandon became Robb, and Lyanna became…” Arya? It could still end up being Sansa or even you, but Sansa was more likely.

Lyanna Stark.

The young maiden chosen by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and loved, supposedly, by him so much that he stole her away and started a war in the process.

“Princess Myrcella is an innocent of this. I refuse to allow her to take place of your sister, My Prince. I am glad that she is here with us and has found companionship with the children of the gardens.” You hadn’t personally seen the Lannister looking Baratheon Princess, it wasn’t safe to reveal yourself with a member of King Joffrey’s kingsguard being the sworn shield of Myrcella, but you knew she was happy and well liked. “I hold her no ill will, I hope you know this.” It was this reassurance you had wanted to give him, it was this that you had requested a private audience with him that afternoon after lunch.

You were devasted over the loss of your father, brothers, and mother, but you would not take it out on a child as innocent as you were in all of this.

“I appreciate your words, My Lady, but I did not need to be told this.” Prince Doran held a hand out to you, pulling you away from the window and to his side. He shared a smile with you as you placed a kiss to his palm and dropped to your knees on the cushion that had been placed next to the chair he was seated in (having decided to be moved from his wheeled chair to something more comfortable as your conversations often went on for hours). He placed his hand to your cheek once you had let it go, his thumb brushing a few stray tears from your cheek. “We must be patient, in time we will all be given the revenge we believe we’re entitled to.” His voice was still soft, but there was a strength to it as if he knew something he wasn’t letting you in on – something he was keeping very, very close to his heart.

“Doran,” his name no longer felt strange on your tongue, now it fell from your lips with a fondness you had developed with so much ease in the early days of being in Dorne. “I am orphaned, I am wanted, I am…I am the last of my kin beyond Sansa and Jon Snow. What am I to do if I ever got this revenge? Would I go back to Winterfell? Alone? To rebuild my House and…and try to heal from the scars of the south?”

What if you didn’t want to do that? What if you didn’t care about rebuilding your House or getting revenge? What if you were tired and simply wanted to be safe for what little time you might have left alive before the lions found you and took your head as well?

“You are not alone. You will always have a friend in Dorne, Y/n. You are always welcomed in Sunspear and amongst my House.” And his lips pressed against your forehead, a rare act of his fondness toward you that had you gasping with emotion and gently grabbing at his arm – his hand still pressed to your cheek.

It was like he was aware of the thoughts you had at night when you were lying in bed, clinging to the things you had left in your life that could be taken away. House Martell, their kindness and acceptance, and the few things you had as physical possessions. Everything else had been taken from you in the capital or at Winterfell – stolen by the Lannisters and the Iron Born.

You couldn’t even remember when you started praying to the old and the new gods at night, begging them to let you stay in Dorne and to remain in the company of the Martells and other Dornish who you had met since arriving in Planky Town some months earlier. Before you knew, you were happy and even found yourself going hours without thinking about your parents, your siblings, Winterfell, the North, Jon Snow, or your direwolf who you had left at Winterfell when you agreed to travel South with your father and sisters.

And hearing the Prince of Dorne himself welcome you to remain as a member of his household, to stay there for the rest of your life surrounded by those who had become so important to you, a second or chosen family beyond your blood relations…it was something you had wanted to hear and, yet, you hadn’t been aware that you wanted to hear them.

Is it wrong of me to want to stay here? Is it wrong of me to not want to fight? To just want to…survive?

Getting to your feet, you gently cupped Prince Doran’s face and kissed his forehead in return. “Thank you, My Prince.” You sniffled, letting your tears fall. “I do not wish to be a burden, and so I will do whatever you need of me. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New.”

*

The news reached you when you were walking the lemon orchard with one of the younger Sand Snakes. The servant had only told you once you had sent little Dorea away, and the words had barely slipped past the boy’s mouth before you were gathering the skirt of your dress in your hands and running back to the palace.

Prince Doran was alone when you reached him on the balcony he spent his days, watching the children play in the fountains. You didn’t care who was there, not even if it was Princess Myrcella and her sworn shield, Arys Oakheart.

“My Prince,” you gasped, placing a kiss to his knuckles before whispering, “I just heard. I am so sorry.” What else were you meant to say? Nothing that had been said to you about Robb, Bran, or Rickon’s murders had comforted you. Why would any of it comfort the Prince of Dorne?

“He accepted the trial by combat. He knew the possibilities.” It was all Doran said, and although he didn’t sound like it, you knew he was hurting by the way the parchment in his hand was being crushed - the message about how Prince Oberyn had been killed in the capital must have been written on it.

Doran didn’t say anything else, and you didn’t push him.

You sat beside him, peeling blood oranges and gently coaxing him to eat a few pieces. You talked to him instead, telling him stories about the North and all the tales Northern children believed about the Dornish and their Rhonyar ancestry.

The two of you sat there for hours. You talked and Doran listened. He seemed to enjoy the sound of your voice, at least, as every time you fell silent he squeezed your hand – a silent gesture he had begun not long into your stay in Dorne that always told you to continue whatever topic you had been exploring.

“The children need to be told, Doran. The younger sand snakes…should I leave that to Lady Ellaria when she returns?” you knew Oberyn’s paramour was going to be devastated over the death of her long-time lover, but you also knew she was a mother and would always put her daughters first.

You just hoped that they hadn’t been told by Obara, Lady Nym, or Tyene. You could never be sure what the three oldest of Oberyn’s daughters were thinking or planning.

“I am sure they have already been told.” Doran whispered, speaking up for the first time since that afternoon. A soft sigh slipped from his lips as he turned his head, his dark eyes meeting yours. “Y/n,” he shook his head slightly and continued, “Dorne will get its revenge, sooner than later. Will you stand with me and mine? Or would you like to go somewhere else? Somewhere that could be safe? Essos? The Summer Isles?”

“My Prince?” Frowning, you shook your head and whispered, “Are you trying to send me away? I am the last of my House, as far as I know, besides my bastard brother who has given his life to the Night’s Watch. Where would I go? Where would I be welcomed? I belong here now, in Dorne. If a day comes that the North could feel warm and comforting, then perhaps I will return, but for now…” your cheeks turned a soft pink as you said, shyly, “For now, my warmth and comfort is here with you, My Prince. You, your children, your brother’s children. I do not ask for anything, only your companionship. In any form that is offered to me.”

The Prince of Dorne smiled, so sweetly, and cupped your chin in his hand, “All that I can give is yours, My Lady, until you no longer wish to have it. Your companionship is a blessing to my weary soul.”

Oh, how I feel the same, My Prince.

You wanted to hug him tightly, but you were afraid of hurting him due to his gout. That didn’t stop you from grabbing his hand from your chin and placing your lips to his palm, your tears falling silently into his hand as you tried your very best to convey your deepest feelings to him without words.

You barely managed to hold back your sob as you whispered, “For all my life, Doran, I will wish to have it. All of it.”

Dorne wasn’t where you had expected to find yourself, or to spend your life, but after a year of being there – rescued by the Prince of Dorne and adored by him and his house – it was all you wanted. Even if all the tragedies hadn’t happened to your family, you knew in your heart you would have pleaded with Robb to allow you to stay had you ended up in Dorne somehow, either way.

“And so you shall.” His words locked your future into place, but his words also healed just a little bit of the pain from your past.

[katnissmellarkkk]

my heart would explode if you did one of when katniss was having nightmares in Tigris’ basement, but Peeta wakes her up and comforts her instead ??🥺😭😭 (bc i feel like he remembers why he’s so in love with her by that point, but didn’t trust himself yet)

This is my oldest request and I’ve been struggling forever to write it! Hopefully this is a decent take on this wonderful prompt while still fitting into canon! I hope you like it, anon! And thanks @papofglencoe for that response to my MJ complaints. I didn’t even realize it until I was trying to write this but that really helped me grasp Peeta’s perspective after the “don’t let him take you from me” kiss. So thank you again!

And thanks to anyone who’s supported me with likes, reblogs or comments! I say it every time but I really really mean it! You guys are so kind and I wouldn’t write anything without all your support and encouragement! Thank you so much 🤍💜🤍💜🥰🥰😘😘.

The fire inside me has flickered out, and with it my strength. I surrender to the soft, musty fur and oblivion.

Well oblivion probably isn’t the right word. Oblivion implies something closer to indifference. Indifference, detachment or at least a somewhat anesthetized state. Not the blood and gore I’m subjected to. By my own unconscious mind, no less.

I don’t actually retain the dream once it’s done and over with. For some insane reason, the only detail that lingers in my brain is Effie Trinket. Her pink wig and clacking heels on the pavement and her high-pitched reprimands about my awful etiquette. Somehow in the course of the nightmare she lost her head. I watched in horror as her neck gushed more blood than I would have thought possible, considering she wasn’t a very large woman. Or she isn’t? Is Effie even still alive right now? Should I wish her to be or would death actually be more kind for her? Would Snow torture her with all the love and loyalty she affords the Capitol or would he merely make a pet out of her?

I don’t know what happened after Effie bled out through her neck though. I’m definitely not enjoying the horrific dream — by any means at all — but I am startled when a gentle hand suddenly shakes me awake, bringing me back into reality at once. Which, I’m dread to find, manages to be somehow worse than watching a headless Effie bleed to death.

The first thing I realize as I fly straight up, gasping and heaving, my throat raw with my strangled cries, is my surroundings. It takes me about three seconds to recognize that we’re in Tigris’, the feline fashion designer, store basement and not captured and trapped inside Snow’s mansion.

The second thing that I register is the person who woke me up. I don’t know who I expected or if I even imagined a specific person, but when I take in large, piercing blue eyes staring down at me in concern, I realize it was Peeta who pulled me from my slumber.

“Peeta?” I exclaim before his hand covers my mouth.

“Shhh,” he hushes, only to see the way I flinch at his restraining touch. “Sorry,” he immediately whispers, dropping his hold at once. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to wake the others.”

Right. The others sleeping in cramped, hidden quarters with us. As soon as he says it, the extent of our current situation dawns on me.

“How did you get to me?” I ask, making effort to keep my voice down now as well. Peeta gives me a puzzled look that comes across so genuine, that for one long second it takes me right back to the Peeta I knew in the Quarter Quell. The Peeta I knew back in Victor’s Village, that I knew before Snow ever got ahold of him, before Snow weaponized him against me.

He manages to decipher my meaning without clarification. “Cressida unlocked my cuffs an hour ago so I could get a drink of water,” he explains. His tone is almost sheepish now and he shrugs, his cloudy eyes flitting away from mine. Just like they used to when we were in school.

“That’s… lucky,” I finally say, unsure what word is appropriate. “For the others, I mean. Not having to wake up to my screaming.”

Peeta chuckles lifelessly before scratching his neck. “Yeah.”

An awkward silence falls between us, one neither knows how to alleviate. There’s nothing I can think to say. Peeta was always the one who could spin words like gold, who could paint a picture using nothing but his vocabulary, who could make anyone believe anything. Not me. Not even close.

Without him up to the job, I’m sorely reminded why I had so little friends growing up. I couldn’t hold a conversation to save my life. When I’m uncomfortable I close down. I never know what’s the right thing to say.

Or I make weird segues under inappropriate circumstances. “Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep then,” Peeta murmurs eventually, moving to stand up again, to go back to his spot where his handcuffs remain, right by the staircase.

“Peeta,” I suddenly blurt out, my hand moving to grasp his before I can think better of it. He doesn’t react though like I did when he touched me. He doesn’t really react at all to my hand. Then again, I was just cleaning his bloody wrists a few hours ago so maybe this gesture is only a taboo inside my head.

“What?” His blonde brows knit together in concern. Because why am I even prolonging a conversation with him? I declared him a mutt not long ago and said I’d kill him if need be. Or have I made up for that comment now with helping him reconstruct his memory? With my refusal to leave him behind, even after he begged me to do so? Even after he seemed to be stuck in a crazed state, completely unreachable and a greater risk than asset at that moment.

And I find that I myself am so confused, I feel no better than he probably does.

It’s this revelation that causes me to blurt out, “Remember how you repeated the blood poisoning comment you said in the first games?” He nods hesitantly, not following me. I’m not even following me at this point. But I don’t like a simple nod for response, and I don’t trust it considering his still perplexed expression so I prompt him, “Do you remember?”

“Katniss, it was three hours ago,” he shoots back, his voice deadpan and ironic and surprisingly Peeta.

I ignore his snark though. “I don’t know if you remember much about the cave.” He nods again, urging me to finish. I think of the fact that he handed me lamb stew before the mutts came after us. I try to believe him, that he does know the time I’m talking about. The only time of our entire duration in that first arena that we had even a semblance of happiness. “I got upset at one point and told you I wanted to go home. But that wasn’t true.”

I watch as Peeta’s entire expression shifts and he regards me with the most extreme caution now. As I expected, admitting to him that I lied at any point isn’t going to bode well for me at the moment. But I’m almost done already and I decide I can’t quit talking without getting to the point. “I just didn’t want anyone else to die. I got teary because I didn’t want Thresh to die or anyone else.”

There’s a long pause as Peeta digests this, as his expression morphs from confusion to irritation to frustration and then back to confusion again. “Katniss, why are you telling me this?” He finally asks. There’s no malice in his tone at all and I can’t hold his mystified expression against him.

I don’t know why I’m confessing this to him either. Maybe because I’ve discovered it’s still him who reaches me when no one else can. Maybe it’s because I always wanted to tell him about this and there was never the right moment to bring it up before. Or maybe it’s because that moment in the cave feels as if it’s coming full circle right now.

“Because that’s still how I feel. That’s how I feel now,” I admit, my voice quiet and blank. Like an empty sheet of paper or a chalkboard that has yet to be written on. I can feel nothing and everything all at once.

But Peeta, to my surprise, fixes me with a sardonic glance. “You’ve been desperate to kill Snow for some time. That’s why you brought us on your mission, right?”

I chuckle, once. It sounds rather depressing, even to my own ears. “I said people. Snow isn’t a person. He’s not human.” Not in the ways that count, I amend to myself. “I don’t want anyone else here to get hurt,” I whisper, looking at the sleeping faces surrounding us.

He already has a response to that. “Each of us knew what we were risking by being here. We’ve known all along.” His voice is more confident than his body language. I watch as he scratches at one of his bloodied wrists nervously. He really shouldn’t but I don’t have the heart or the gall to tell him to stop. “I’m as good as dead anyway,” he adds onto the end but I don’t think I was supposed to hear it.

I feel my lids getting heavy again and I don’t have the energy to refute his bleak sentiment. After all, we’ve all probably thought it at some point or another by now.

Unexpectedly though, Peeta touches my hand again before pulling the fur Tigris provided higher up around my shoulder. “Go back to sleep, Katniss. You’ll probably need it. Who knows what’s going to happen any time now.”

“That was comforting,” I say before I thinking twice. But he just laughs, still keeping quiet as not to wake anyone else.

He goes to get up again, only for my fumbling grip to stop him once more. “Can you stay?” I ask, my gaze fluttering everywhere but Peeta’s eyes now.

If he looked confused before he’s downright bewildered now. “Stay here next to you? Why?”

There’s a long stretch of silence where I can’t make myself answer. I can’t find the words to convey why I want him here when I fall asleep. All I know is I do. All I know is deep down inside I still want him there when the nightmares hit.

I repeat this to him, with the appropriate amount of reluctance, only for him to easily accept it as a sensible reason. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I repeat back, not believing the response at first.

But his mind is already focused on the task at hand. He lightly grazes my lids with his fingertips, taking obvious effort to keep his touch featherlight to not scare me. “Close your eyes. Go to sleep.”

I want to complain about him giving orders — things I’ve never taken well, not even when given by someone decades older than me or when they could very well save my life — but his hand slowly moves to my hair, brushing it away from my forehead. For a few moments I think he’s just grazing it while pulling his hand away but then he does it intentionally again. And again.

Peeta continues to stroke my hair, in a gesture so comforting and genuine, I can’t doubt the sincerity of it. The same way I couldn’t help but marvel at how real it seemed in the cave, when he stroked my hair until I fell asleep.

Back then I didn’t want him to stop. It was one of the only physical comforts I’d felt in years and I didn’t want to let it go. It’s the same now. I’m completely changed from the girl in the cave but the feeling of Peeta tenderly brushing my hair back in a soothing gesture couldn’t be more the same.

I still don’t want him to stop now and he doesn’t. He’s still stroking my hair when I fall asleep.

But when I wake up, he’s reshackled himself to the stairs, on the other side of the basement.

[fandom-puff]

Cloak

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Reader

Requested by: anon ‘Hi!!! So I saw that your requests are open and I absolutely ADORE your writing, so may I ask for a Sandor x stark!reader in a established relationship where maybe Sandor proposes and then the two marry? Could it be more centered on the marriage and very fluffing and loving? I love to imagine how his enormous cape would fit on the small reader! Completely fine if not tho!! Thank you!!💕’

Notes: so in this, you’re the oldest stark child, around 19, and it’s set around the time Margaery comes to King’s Landing ish. Sandor doesn’t escape after Blackwater. It’s all a bit vague and definitely not canon compliant, but just go with it I guess :)

Warnings: swearing, Joffrey being... Joffrey.

Gif creds to owner

“Are you not frightened of the Hound?”

You smiled gently at your sister as you brushed her hair. “I’m not. Why D’you ask?” You said, pulling her fiery hair into northern style braids. Sansa’s pale cheeks flushed and you grinned mischievously. “What’ve you heard, Sister?” You tease. “Do you still believe some of the knights in your pretty songs exist?”

Sansa nibbled her lip- a nervous habit you both have- and shook her head. “No- I- well... it’s just that I heard... I heard the King say something about marrying you off to him, now that he’s been released from the Kingsguard. To make an example of the Starks,”

You sighed softly. “Look at me, Sansa. Everything the Lannisters do is at the expense of the Starks. You’re starting to understand this now and I’m proud of you for it. But don’t you worry about me. I’m not scared of Clegane. Besides... they’ve too much on their minds with the Tyrells coming to court. Stick to them, Sansa. The Tyrells are smart, the Reach is a valuable resource that the North has always relied on. Befriend Margaery. Win over Ollenna. Sing and dance with Loras,”

“But we aren’t in the north anymore, YN,” she whispered and you tipped her chin up.

“No. But we are northern ladies. And we are the sole heirs to Winterfell for all we know. It’s time we started playing the game of thrones properly, don’t you think? Now go. I’m sure Margaery is waiting for you to rescue her from her grandmother,”

***

With Sansa’s unease put to rest, you got yourself ready, braiding your own hair and dressing, before leaving your chamber.

Precisely on time, you passed Sandor in the hallway and flashed him a brief smile. “Clegane,” you said softly.

“Lady Stark,” he replied, giving you a rare hint of a smile as you backed into an alcove.

“Sansa has heard talk of... of a wedding,” you said lowly. “Between us,”

Sandor towered above you, but his massive hand was gentle when it cupped your cheek. “Would a wedding to me be so bad, aye?” He teased, but when he saw the severity in your eyes he frowned. “Joffrey did make a jest of it. I think it was more to torment the little bird, to make her uneasy,”

“She still thinks you’re a great hulking monster even though you’ve protected us since they put my father’s head on a spike,” you said bitterly.

“Don’t fret, my little wolf,” he said softly. “The cunt makes japes like that all the time. At the expense of our houses, our families. Only the joke’s on him if he goes through with it. Because then we will be married, all proper,”

You nodded and stood on tip toe to press a gentle kiss to his lips- well, more like his chin, even reaching up like you were. “I love you. I need to go, so do you, before people notice we’re gone,”

***

“Ah... Lady YN,”

You blew out a shaking breath as you steeled yourself to deal with Joffrey. You turned around and sunk into a low curtsey. “Your majesty,” you said sweetly, though you made sure to let your broad accent ring clear, to remind him that as long as the starks lived, winterfell would never be his.

“I have been looking all over the Keep for you, my lady,” he said, grabbing your arm. “I thought you had escaped... like your silly bitch of a younger sister,” you gulped, knowing he was talking about Arya.

“I’m sorry you had to look for me, Your Grace. May I ask what I am needed for? I would be honoured to serve Your Grace,” you spewed the words you knew boosted his ego, following him as he walked you back to the throne room.

“I have a gift for you,” he said casually. “At first I considered giving it to Sansa... but I already gifted her her father’s head... no, I think it’s your turn to receive a gift from your king,”

“Yes, your highness, thank you,” you said with a tight lipped smile, urging yourself not to start shaking. Joffrey walked you to the throne room, grinning madly to himself. He left you in the centre of the room and seated himself casually atop the Iron Throne. Your eyes darted around the room, soon landing on Sansa, who was with Margaery Tyrell in the shadows, her eyes red rimmed.

“Lady Stark, I think it’s time you found a husband! Your sister has been betrothed for some time, so I think it’s only right for her older sister to be wedded and bedded before her,” your eyes widened slightly and you nodded slowly. Cersei and Tywin were stood to the left of the throne looking thunderous. Clearly they weren’t happy about the heir of Winterfell being married off as a jest.

“Your grace?” You said carefully. “You’re very kind,”

Joffrey smirked. “I am, aren’t I? Dog? Come forward. I have found you a pretty little wife... do as you would like with her. The ceremony will be in ten days’ time,”

You shut your eyes and exhaled, making sure you looked relatively frightened. Sandor stepped forward, though he didn’t really need to, as he towered above the rest, and gave a solemn nod, murmuring “yes, your grace,” you repeated his words before you were all dismissed.

***

Straightening the neckline of your dress, you sighed, sweeping off invisible dust. It was light grey, almost white, with long velvety sleeves and a tight fitted bodice with tony direwolves embroidered on the trim. You let your hair- dark like your father’s- fall in loose waves over your shoulders, only the front part braided back.

“Oh, YN, you look beautiful,” Sansa whispered, flinging her arms around your neck. You smiled softly, rubbing her back.

“Come on now, sister,” you said, although your voice cracked slightly. Together you walked to the carriages that would take you to the Sept; you were to be married before the Gods, and you knew exactly what Sandor would have to say about that. Fuck them.

As you stepped out and climbed the steps, you held your head up, your face a stony mask of serenity. You entered the sept and took a deep breath, gasping when you felt a hand grab your arm.

“Don’t fret, Lady Stark... I’m going to give you away to the Dog, seeing as your father had his head cut off for being a dirty traitor,” you nodded as Joffrey began walking you to the start of the aisle. “He’ll tear you apart at the bedding ceremony,” he whispered in your ear. “And failing that, his sons will rip you in two the same way they did my grandmother,”

You ignored his words as he began walking you down the aisle, smirking to himself as you looked up ahead at the stained glass. You heard the court’s whispers as the disgraced stark girl was marched up the aisle, the small laughs at Ned Stark’s daughter being whored out to the Hound. At the alter, Joffrey let go of your arm and returned to his place by his mother as the Septon began talking.

“We stand he before god and men to join man to wife. If you would take your bride under your family’s sigil...” you looked up at Sandor for the first time in your ceremony, your eyes soft as you turned around. Your knees buckled under the weight of his thick cloak- yellow, with three black dogs embroidered onto it- as he draped it over your shoulders; you could easily use it as a blanket, spread out like a starfish and still have plenty of room. Instinctively, you tugged the fabric closer to you, his scent wafting up from the huge cloak as you both repeated your vows.

“For I am his as he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,” you said softly, and finally, you didn’t have to speak anymore, because Sandor was kissing you, hard, probably harder than was decent in the Sept, and as the crowd of clueless ladies and lords cheered, you could hear Joffrey raging to his mother that you were supposed to be terrified...

But that didn’t matter.

Sandor leaned down to whisper in your ear: “Fuck the gods. Fuck the king. You are mine and I am yours,”

Tags: @lotsoffandomrecs @zodiyack @rabeccablake @simonsbluee @wonderwoman292 @little-bit-of-randomness @doozywoozy

[crazyfreckledginger]

Jason Todd x Reader - “In The Pale Moonlight”

After a one night stand, Jason doesn’t seem to be able to get his mind off you. Desperate to get you out of his head, he hesitantly agrees to go to Wayne Enterprise with his brothers for work, as a response to scrutiny from the general public. What happens when the person he was trying to erase from his memory pops right back into his life?

Requested by anon and on Wattpad: “Can I request one where reader and one of the boys are dating but they act like they still trying to get each other so they flirt a lot and stuff even if everyone knows they’re together”/ 

“And other one where the reader is feeling herself and singing “Meet me in the pale moonlight” by Lana Del Rey in front of one of batboys and they’re like wow she cute and kiss the readeeeeeer (they’re dating and they’re teenagers)THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU 💕” /

“haha well I have another which was that the reader is harley and Bruce's kid and she meets  batboys but jason since she knew before she left  for the first time since she was away for wayne industries business meetings”

A/N: I hope you guys don’t mind that I tweaked it a little since these requests don’t have alot of depth individually!

“I’m just here for a drink.” the girl smiled politely even though she was extremely uncomfortable. 

“I am too, can I have it with you?”

“Oh for crying out loud leave her alone, don’t be such a creep.” The man at the end of the counter groaned.

“Mind your business.” the creep gritted his teeth.

“Your disgusting aura is polluting my drink so it makes it my business.” (Y/N) watched as he stood up and walked towards the pair. Now that he was closer, the woman could see how attractive he was up close, stunning eyes, sharp jaw, tall and a streak of dyed white hair, “Fuck off will you?” 

“Who do you think you are?” 

“Sorry, I forgot a world, fuck off please.” The stranger shot the man a terrifying glare and without another word, the man studded away, like a dog with its tail between his legs. 

“Thank you mister, but if he laid a hand on me I would have sucker punched him.” 

“Mister huh?” he smirked, sitting beside her. 

“Well what’s your name then?” 

“Jason, pleasure to meet you.” 

****

“This is your place?” she hummed, fingers running through his soft hair as his lips trailed down her neck, pulling her legs around his hips.

“Mmh hmm,” 

“You rich or something?” the woman breathed out as he sucked on her skin. 

“Something like that,” he murmured, pulling away to tease her lips with his. Jason stared deeply into her eyes.

“What are you waiting for, lover boy? You brought me here.” (Y/N)’s arms hung loosely on his shoulders, occasionally touching the back of his head.

“Yes ma’am,” he smirked, hooking his hands under her legs and carrying her to his bedroom.

****

Glancing at her side to the soft breathing of the naked man beside her, she shuffled, stretching and yawning. What a night, she tried moving her legs but winced, what a night indeed. 

“Good morning princess,” his morning voice was incredibly attractive as his arm slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

“Mmh, good morning,” the woman squirmed in his grip as he nipped at her ear teasingly with his teeth, “what time is it?”

“You have someplace to be?” he murmured, hand caressing her naked hip.

“Yeah, I have work.”

“On a Saturday?” 

“Self employed.” 

“Nice!” 

****

A month or so later, Jason was frustratedly sitting in the meeting room, chewing on his lip in boredom as Bruce brought all of them to a meeting at Wayne Enterprise for less scrutiny from the public eye. 

“The person we will be working on for the new design is going to arrive soon so I need you all on your best behaviour.” He glared at all the boys. 

“Yeah yeah, can we just get on with it so I can leave?” The second oldest rolled his eyes. 

“Mr Wayne?” as if on queue, the person knocked on the one-way privacy film that covered every window of the room, the blurred figure waiting patiently on the other side. 

With a last scolding glance to everyone, Bruce strutted over, opening the door and smiling.

“Good morning Mr Wayne.” the woman greeted with a polite smile.

Jason’s eyes widened, and stayed that way even when he made eye contact with the girl. She responded with the same reaction, but quickly regained her composure and greeted the other boys. 

“Oh hey (Y/N),” Dick waved to his roommate, “you look great.” He flirted.

“...Um hey,” she greeted hesitantly, feeling a little uncomfortable with his usual ways in the professional setting.

“Shall we get down to business.” Bruce glared at his eldest son.

****

“You don’t have to act so grumpy.” Jason rolled his eyes as they finally arrived at their hotel in Europe after an excruciatingly long flight. 

“I’m tired, I need sleep.” Not wanting to address the elephant in the room, especially when she was this exhausted, she scurried to the bathroom to slip into comfortable pyjamas and landed right into bed, “I’m having this conversation tomorrow, good night.” 

The next day came quickly and (Y/N) opened her eyes reluctantly, wanting to melt in the comfortable double bed she was in. Discreetly, she peeked at the double bed facing her diagonally. 

The woman frowned, it was empty.

“I’m right here.” the man voiced from behind her as he exited the bathroom.

“Jason!” she screeched, “what the hell! Don’t creep up on people!” 

“Well don’t try to spy on people when they are sleeping!” he threw his damp towel to her.

“Ewwwww!” she grimaced.

“Chill, I was drying my hair with that.” he walked towards his bed, and she only now noticed that he was naked -- with a towel around his waist obviously. Steam was emitting from his skin as it glistened still.

With warm ears, she pulled the covers over her face, eyes peeking out discreetly.

“We’ve seen each other completely naked, I don’t see what the problem is, if you’re going to look, be shameless,” he moved his butt from left to right teasingly, “you can see this regularly if you want,” he chuckled.

With a sigh, she buried herself under the covers. 

“I haven’t changed my mind Jason, I’m sorry, I’m not interested in commitment at the moment.” 

She felt a weight on the bed and hesitantly took a peep out. Jason was laying on her bed, shirtless but with some underwear on.

“At least give me the benefit of the doubt for this trip.” he gave her the puppy eyes. Eying him suspiciously, she sighed.

“Alright, fine, don’t disappoint.”

****

A few months or so later into the relationship with Jason and gotten closer to his younger brothers, (Y/N) slipped on a comfortable T-shirt, watching herself in the mirror as she tidied her hair a bit and examined the hickey on her neck.

Swaying lightly from side to side to the song that was stuck in her head, she hummed softly to herself, setting out her clothes for the day.

“You don't have to give me anything

Just put your sweet kiss kiss on my lips now baby”

Walking back to the mirror, deciding on whether or not jewelry was necessary, the woman continued.

“Think about you almost all the time, all the time and-”

 “I love you so much baby,” he breathed out from the other side of the room. 

“Hmm?” she glanced in the mirror. 

“Keep singing~” 

“No,” she stuck her tongue out playfully, “are you ready?”

“Do we have to go?” Jason whined, marching up to her, slapping her ass and squeezing it before hugging her from behind, nuzzling her hair, his warm skin against her.

“Baby of course we do, we have to hide the fact that we’re together, plus they are fun, we’re all friends here.” she rubbed her butt against his hips and he bit her ear. 

“No teasing,” he whispered in her ear, turning her around and pushing her against the dresser, “or else.” 

“Or else?” the woman chuckled, “but seriously though,” her hands cupped his cheeks as he stared at her lips, “we can’t act like a couple, it’s unprofessional,” 

“Technically I don’t work at the company,” 

“And the person I’m working with is your dad.”

“Adoptive, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Just a coffee, maybe a lunch, and then we can come straight home.” 

“Mmh, okay,” he pouted, holding her tightly as she kissed his lips and pulled away. “You sing beautifully, please do it more for me.” he pouted. She chuckled, shaking her head slightly in embarrassment.

“Put a shirt on and let’s get ready, I don’t want to be late!” (Y/N) ushered, “and the sooner you’re out of here, the less anxious I’ll be that your brother unexpectedly enters his own home and sees you in it.”

When they were ready, at a somewhat reasonable time, they drove there as quickly and responsibly as possible.

“Why is your hand still on my thigh?!” (Y/N) jumped once she realised he had discreetly snaked his hand back on her thigh when he was parking the car on the side of the road, in a surprising proximity. Slapping his hand away and giving him a look, the woman slipped out of the car and walked up the stairs, ringing on the bell.

Jason scurried up beside her, slapping her butt playfully before pushing the door open. 

“Hey guys!” she grinned, not having the time to scold her boyfriend once again as she was greeted with welcoming smiles. 

“How have you been?” Dick teased, having seen her just yesterday.

After playful banter, and not-so-playful for the brothers, over a nice hot drink, a new topic came up.

“How was the party yesterday (Y/N)?” Jason inquired, knowing fully well about it but trying to seem inconspicuous, “I hope no one stole your heart, that’s for me!” … or not.

She paused, giving him an unimpressed look, reluctant to answer “It was great, and no.” 

“No what?” he smirked. Her cheeks burned, she did not like being put on the spot to lie, especially since this was incredibly unnecessary.

“No one did anything.” 

“To who-”

“This is embarrassing, we know you two are a couple,” Damian nearly gagged. 

“Huh?” (Y/N) turned to him, feeling her soul leave her body.

“How do you know?” Jason looked at him.

“It’s been a while.” Dick chuckled.

“We been knew 💅,” Tim rolled his eyes.

“Someone left someone’s underwear in an awkwardly obvious place when I came around… and you slapped her butt before you came in here, everyone saw it.” Dick explained, watching his brother.

“OH MY GOD, JASON!” 

“I didn’t- wait, how do you know that it’s her underwear???”

The eldest’s expression fell and he blushed. 

“I might have um-” 

“He accidentally came in when I was packing my bag to leave for the business meeting in France okay?” the woman spluttered. 

“You did WHAT?”

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[theshelbyclan]

Brotherly Discomfort

Summary: After ‘the talk’, your brothers are adamant to protect you, but you throw yet another curveball their way. Part 2 to Growing Pains

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​)  A/N: This is part 2 to my most popular fic Growing Pains and I used anon’s request: Could you do a Shelby sis story where she’s a lesbian and in love with a woman and her family doesn’t know. The family is trying to get her into an arranged marriage with a man and she can’t figure out how to tell them she’s a lesbian cause she feels they won’t except her? Sorry if that’s too much. Love your writing so much btw!! Thanks for this request babes, hope I did it justice :)  Words: 2387

*** “Right, Y/N, sit down,” Tommy sighed deeply and pointed at a single chair by the kitchen table, “We need to talk.” As you sat down, three brothers loomed over you. Tommy lit a cigarette like his life depended on it, Arthur couldn’t stand still if his life depended on it and John seemed to have forgotten what his life actually depended on, so he just stood there, unsure of everything. “We’re having another talk,” you stated. The last one, only a few days ago, was still fresh in your mind. 

“We are,” you brother confirmed. Arthur took off his cap like he was attending a funeral and stumbled, “We, uhm… We’ve had an idea.” “Christ,” Polly mumbled from behind her newspaper and you couldn’t agree more. “The thing is,” John finally spoke, “We’ve been worried after we… talked.” “Right,” you nodded, “Because of he subject of our conversation?” “It’s not just that!” your brother continued, with a slight frantic edge to his voice, “You’re growing up, but you’re still running around with the dogs at all hours. You won’t listen to anyone, do whatever you please…” Tommy continued where John faltered, “The truth is, Y/N, you’re getting to be too wild.” “Oh, fuck off, Tom,” and you got up with every intention to leave the room. “Sit down,” he said sternly, “We can’t have another Ada situation.” “Situation?” your eyebrows shot up, “What do you fucking mean by a fucking situation?” “The baby, Y/N,” Arthur explained. “I’m sorry,” you were boiling inside now, “but please explain: was the baby the problem or the man she had the baby with the problem? Or possibly, maybe, the fact that you three had no say in the matter?!” “That’s not the point,” John could feel this conversation wasn’t going as planned, “The thing is we couldn’t stop it!” Polly scoffed behind you, so at least you felt like someone was on your side. After a few moments of silence, your anger got the better of you and you slammed a hand down on the table in a very Tommy manner, “So what did you three fucking geniuses come up with?” Tommy pointed at you menacingly, “You fucking watch your mouth. You may be sixteen but I will still wash your mouth out with soap if you don’t mind that tongue…” “Minding my tongue…” you repeated, rolling your eyes, “Fine. So, what’s the plan? Arthur? John? Are we going back to the old ways and am I being married off to some good gypsy boy?” You turned around at Polly and laughed at your own joke, but when the room fell silent once again, you realised you’d hit the jackpot. Arthur had known you since the day you were born. He’d been twelve at the time and he could recognise every little expression on your face. Like when you were little, you used to scrunch up your nose just before you were about to cry for hunger. Or when you were sad, a small wobble in your chin just before the tears. Or when you were angry, a wrinkle in your forehead gave away the tantrum that was about to follow. This was happening right now. So he held up both hands and said, “Y/N, he’s from a good family…” “Nope,” you said, adamantly. “He is,” John confirmed gently, “and he has horses.” “Fucking no,” you shook your head. Tommy sighed, “We already made the deal.” “You promised your sister, just like that. That’s low, even coming from you, Thomas,” Polly’s cold voice sounded. If there was one person who could break his tough exterior, it was his aunt, “Well, what the fuck should we have done, Pol? Let her run wild, like you, eh?” But you stood up and walked over to Tommy. This was the man who had raised you, cared for you and disciplined you most of all, but right now, none of it mattered. So you slapped him hard, once. “Undo it Tommy,” you hissed, “Undo it or I’ll fucking cut you.” In the background you could hear Arthur mumble at once, “Okay, we’ll undo it…” “Give me one good reason,” your brother’s face, now only inches away, remained emotionless. You sighed and decided to throw all caution to the wind. “Anna,” you said, calmly. “What?” John asked immediately. So you repeated, voice raised, “Anna!” Three frowning brother stared at you, not understanding at all. “Remember when you asked me what hisname was, last week?” you called out exasperated. “’John’, wasn’t it?” Arthur looked at you. “No, it wasn’t fucking ‘John’, Arthur, she just said so,” John explained to his oldest brother. Tommy lit another cigarette, “What’s your point, Y/N?” You pointed at your neck where the nearly faded hickey could still be seen if you knew, “The name of the girl who gave me this is Anna.” “That would be bloody fantastic actually, because we wouldn’t have to worry anymore about a baby situation…” John squinted, “I think she’s serious…” “Oooooh fuck…” Arthur sighed, suddenly connecting the dots; “We’ve been keeping an eye on the wrong fucking people, John.” But John burst out laughing, “Didn’t see that one coming, did you, Tommy?” Slowly, your brother sat down and started smoking his second cigarette, “Pol, contact Madame Ross, tell her the wedding is off.” But Aunt Polly was having none of it, “You got us into this mess, you can fix it.” And then fear settled suddenly into the pit of your stomach. You looked at Tommy and asked softly, “Are you mad?” “Nope,” he said, head dropped down into his hands. “Disappointed?” “No, I’m not disappointed. But you should’ve told us, eh?” You shrugged, “Didn’t think you’d… approve.” “Why?” John asked, “We don’t care that you like women.” And all the love you had in you went out to your brother in that very moment. “Y/N,” Arthur started and he looked so angry that uncertainty took over again, “Why the fuck did you not tell us before we… explained?” “Because it was hilarious,” Polly commented unhelpfully. John started giggling again, “Fucking unnecessary is what it was.” “Arthur?” you asked, fear seeping into your voice. He sighed deeply, fidgeting with his hat, “It’s not the women, Y/N, I don’t care about that. It’s you and… anyone really. I don’t like the idea of you with anyone. Remember when she used to play with the coals, remember John?” “Yeah, I remember,” John smiled. “Black like the night she’d be!” Arthur remembered out loud, “Sweet and innocent.” “Well, she’s not anymore,” Polly sipped her tea. “I fucking see that and I don’t like it,” you eldest brother’s smile faded quickly. “Right,” Tommy raised his head again, “Guess we need to change our approach.” “There really no need…” you started. But he continued, ignoring you, “So you like girls, eh?” “Yep,” you confirmed meekly. “Only girls?” You nodded, “Well, one in particular.” Arthur looked at Tommy like he would have all the answers, “Now what, Tom?” You could now start to see the humour in all of it. Your brothers’ faces were an absolute picture! John could hardly contain his laughter, Tommy looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Arthur was filled with the absolute dread at another conversation like the one you had last week. “Oh, come on!” John called out, “I’m sure we could offer some advice!” He winked at you and a smile spread across your face. “Yeah!” you said, “I mean you all like women, right? This should be even easier!” “It’s not,” Arthur muttered. “I like women,” John said to no one in particular. “What about you, Tommy?” you asked your brother sweetly. But he just rolled his eyes and continued smoking. A part of you wanted to joke about him and Alfie, but you decided against it at the last second. “Horses?” you ventured, “Tommy, any advice on this with the famous analogy of horses? “Horses don’t really…” he waved a hand, coughed and stopped talking all together. “Well, at least you don’t have to be afraid of her getting pregnant,” John said to Arthur, who was as white as a sheet now. “That’s right,” he replied in a low voice, “but that’s my entire speech out the window, because there’s no waiting ‘till bloody marriage either…” “Well,” you tried to comfort your older brother, “You did offer me some good advice the last time, Arthur. You said there was no hurry and to not do it unless I wanted to?” “Right! I did say that. That, yes, it still stands!” Arthur looked around the kitchen triumphantly. “And John,” you continued, “you said to not put anything in my mouth unless I wanted to. Sound advice that was, now more than ever!” “Fucking hell,” Arthur crumbled again, “I can’t do this again. Tom, say something.” “Women….” Tommy started off vaguely waving his cigarette around, “they want love.” “We do.” “And they always want to take things slow.” “Can you imagine?” John interrupted, “Two women together? Must take ages…” “You’d be surprised…” you started, but when you saw your other brothers’ faces, you shut your mouth quickly. Tommy glared daggers at his brother and then turned to you, “How did you become an expert all of a sudden, eh?” “Talked to Ada,” you shrugged. “You talked to Ada…” he repeated lowly and threw his head back. “Wait,” John said suddenly, “Is this why you hate wearing dresses?” “Or why you drink whiskey like a man?” Arthur added, carefully. “That’s just because she’s a Shelby,” Polly explained matter-of-factly. “Or why you never sit on chairs?” John continued, “Or hang out at the factory all the time! Or why you always talk about votes for women…” You held up a hand to stop your brother, “None of that has anything to do with me liking women, John. That’s just… me.” “So what does have to do with you liking women?” your other brother asked in his typical low voice. “Me liking women…?” “So how does it work exactly?” John furrowed his brows, “Like, without… a man there?” “John,” Arthur warned him with a grumble. “Well, both people are enjoying themselves, for starters…” you replied in earnest. “Fucking hell,” the eldest interrupted, “She’s turning into Ada, she bloody is.” “Have you never seen two women together, Arthur?” you asked innocently, “Not even in London?” “They’re all mad bastards down in London, Y/N, the things I’ve seen there…” “Well, imagine me now.” Tommy had just taken a sip of his whiskey and practically choked on the spot, “That’s fucking it. You’re not to go near the BSA again!” “Why?” you called out, “It’s not like all the women in the world are gathered at the BSA!” “I will not have you behaving,” he struggled to find the words but finally spit, “like those fucking women in London!” “Don’t worry, Tommy,” you tried to comfort him, “I’m still… we haven’t actually…” “Oh, thank God,” Arthur sank down in his chair. “Well, when you do, just be gentle, alright?” John offered some advice, “And light a candle! Women love candles.” “Candles, check,” you noted. Tommy downed his whiskey, recomposed himself and added, “And make sure they’re in the mood first…” “To get ‘happy’,” you said, “like Arthur said last time,” “Yes,” he sighed deeply.

“Cut your nails,” John said out of the blue, “Esme told me.”

Arthur turned to his brother, “What the bloody hell do nails have to do with anything?”

“Well, it’s for when you…”

But Tommy silenced you with a gesture, “Please, Y/N, don’t.”

“Right,” and the quiet returned in the small kitchen. Well, at least now they knew, so that terrifying bit was out of the way. Apart from that, you weren’t quite sure if this was going great, because your brothers seemed absolutely petrified and slightly annoyed at your sudden revelation. Maybe it would’ve been better if you hadn’t told them. Then again, marrying a ‘good gypsy boy’ was the last thing you wanted in life. So maybe you could lighten the mood just a little.

“I have a better idea,” a sudden glint came into your eyes, “How about I offer all of you some advice!” The tables had turned already and this couldn’t possibly get any more awkward.

“Nope,” Arthur stood up and promptly marched out of the kitchen, talking to himself, “I can’t. That’s my baby sister and I just fucking can’t...”

“Arthur, where are you going?” Polly called after him, mirth clearly audible in her voice. And he replied, “I’m going to find this Anna, make sure she’s from a good family…” And then he was gone.

Tommy looked from you to Polly for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and mumbled something about business. Polly smirked at you and his face was full of annoyance at it all, “I need to get back to Dangerous. The horse. Tell me some other time, eh?”

“Tommy,” you asked carefully, “Are you sure you’re not mad about me liking women?”

“Princess, I honestly don’t give a fuck who you like,” he said, while putting on his coat and hat, “I just want to meet this Anna and if she hurts you, I’ll still kill her. None of that has changed, eh?”

This was strangely comforting to you.

And just as you were about to offer some unwanted advice, he left the kitchen in a hurry and called over his shoulder, “If you have any questions, Ada apparently has all the fucking answers!”

So you turned to your aunt, “That went well, didn’t it?”

“At least the wedding’s off.”

“Thank fuck,” you smirked and Polly smiled at you encouragingly, “You don’t mind, Aunt Pol, do you?”

“I’m with Tommy,” she said returning to her stern voice, “The fact that it’s a woman won’t make me hesitate.”

“Right,” you nodded, “She makes me happy, though.”

“Good,” Aunt Polly continued to read the newspaper, “Bring her over for tea. Let’s make the boys really uncomfortable, shall we?”

Still laughing, you stood up with the intention of getting on with your homework, when you suddenly noticed John was still sitting on the chair in the back of the kitchen.

“What do you want?” you asked him bluntly.

“I’m waiting,” he said, hands upturned, “You promised me some advice, remember?”

***

Masterlist

[chosenimagines]

Ich habe 119 Mal im Jahr 2022 etwas gepostet

73 Einträge erstellt (61%)

46 Einträge gerebloggt (39%)

Blogs, die ich am häufigsten gerebloggt habe:

@the-second-tonks

@chosenimagines

@hufflepuffplums

@reader-inserts-and-others-thing

@bookaddictedxhufflepuff

Ich habe 70 meiner Einträge im Jahr 2022 getaggt

Nur 41% meiner Einträge hatten keine Tags

#chosen talks – 19 Einträge

#chosens request board – 16 Einträge

#multifandoms – 13 Einträge

#thank you – 12 Einträge

#flood my inbox – 11 Einträge

#fandoms – 11 Einträge

#fandom – 11 Einträge

#thanks – 11 Einträge

#thank you anon – 10 Einträge

#fangirl – 10 Einträge

Longest Tag: 33 characters

#fred and george weasley headcanon

Meine Top-Einträge im Jahr 2022:

#5

Me again 👉🏻👈🏻 I hope I don’t annoy you guys but I have to make an announcement to make...

It is a big thing for me even tho I already said that I have this thought for a while

I am going to comeback!!!

And I think I will keep this blog but I won’t post much on read of roses 

But I will make some changes and will create an even more complex request system

And of course I want you all to be a part of this so comment, inbox me and dm me everything you think should be a part of chosenimagines and I will gratefully choose everything I like to incoperate into my plan

I can’t wait to read all of your ideas 

And before I forget you can text me if you want to be part of certain tag lists

This part is more specific for the ones I used to tag

@virginsvcide  @reidsbookclub would you still like to be a part of the Criminal Minds Taglist ?

And now for my former mutuals if you like you can be on the cym tag list and/or get on any other tag lists you can tell me that?

@tchatso @emsilverblades @the-second-tonks @bookaddictedhufflepuff @snoopitude @doctorspenceryeet

Of course anybody else can ask to be on any taglists^^

I hope you are as excited as I am

15 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 7. September 2022

#4

19 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 16. Februar 2022

#3

Not another love

Fandom: [1] (F) Harry Potter Teaser: Sierra Malfoy is a divorced single mum who shops for her 11 years old child (her oldest out of two) and meets in Ollivander’s shop her old school crush Harry Potter. After a moment of surprise they started talking… Prompts:  (A)121 I can’t trust myself with love I don’t want to hurt you as well AU: - Tropes: (32) Single parent OC:  Reader named Sierra Malfoy

Warnings:  Divorce | Betrayal | Cheating

Language:  English/German Request: Yes/No by animeangsteng

Link for Request board & the request

A/N:  I am sorry that I quit before I could write your request. But now I am back and I hope this will meet your standards

▪️❤️▪️🧡▪️💛▪️💚▪️💙▪️💜▪️ ____________________________________________

It had been an eternity since the smell of wood and polish had touched her nose. It has been way too long... "Mrs Pucey, it's nice to see you again after all these years!" Ollivander greeted his customer and former apprentice. Suddenly the thought of how sad and unfortunate it was that she had broken off her apprenticeship passed through his head. She was a such talented witch when it came to dealing with wands finding their wizard!

"It's also nice to see you again, Mr Ollivander.", Sierra replied. She gave the wand maker a smile and tore him out of his thoughts with her voice. He immediately noticed that her smile was covered by a sad shadow.

"But the name is no longer Pucey! It's been Ms Malfoy again for a few months now.", Sierra explained. This explained the sad smile on her lips. Ollivander gave the young woman an encouraging look. "I'm sorry.", Ollivander replied honestly. Then the older man was seized by curiosity, "If I may allow myself the question, how did it come to this? On your last visit, everything was fine and you were still in love." A sigh came over Sierra's lips. Her last visit at Ollivander’s was a while ago. At least three years! Since then, a lot has changed in her family environment. That was already a year ago...

"That's what I thought.", Sierra finally confessed. "But apparently a woman who has given birth to two children is neither attractive nor worth anything. Otherwise you wouldn't cheat on them several times and that over the past two years!" A crooked and sad smile sat on her lips. Ollivander opened his mouth to comfort his former apprentice, but the doorbell rang.  Sierra's 11-year-old daughter hesitantly pushed her way through the store. The mother stretched out her hand to her child, which the young witch immediately took. Then she turned to the wand maker one last time. "You can't do anything about it.", Sierra added. "But it's been a few months now and I'm fine. I have made my peace with it." Sierra squeezed her daughter Lucy's hand before gently grabbing her shoulders and pushing her gently into Ollivander's direction. "Just go with him! Mr Ollivander will introduce you to some wands. You know how this works." Lucy nodded. "The magic wand chooses the wizard.", she quietly quoted her mother and also the well-known wand maker because it is what he always say. Sierra nodded. "Exactly.", Sierra confirmed her daughter. After these words, Lucy disappeared between the high shelves. Ollivander did not   follow the girl directly. Before Ollivander went after the witch, he turned to Sierra once again. "If anyone is worthless, it's Adrian and his disgusting behavior and not a strong woman like you, Ms Malfoy!", he wanted to get of his chest. Now a honest smile lit up Sierra's face. "Thank you, Mr Ollivander." It came from the bottom of her heart, but there was still something on her tongue. "But not feeling useless and worthless after such an experience is almost impossible. He also called me worthless countless times!"

Sierra happily winked at her old schoolmate. "What an honor!", the young mother laughed. "Harry Potter. The ex-chosen one and the best Auror of the ministry. And not to forget the husband of the most famous Quidditch player in England." Embarrassed, Harry rubbed his neck and smiled crookedly. "Former auror and ex-husband.", he confessed. Suddenly, Sierra's grin became very soft. "I'm sorry." But Harry waved it off. Apparently, he didn't take it so hard. "You don't have to be!", he clarified. "Ginny has now known for a year and a half that she likes women and she has also found a girlfriend in Luna. I am happy for them! For both of them. I want her to be happy." Sierra nodded. "Of course! It's glad that Ginny knows that now. But you also seem to be doing well," she noted. "Yes," Harry affirmed. "I loved her very much, but if she's not happy in a marriage with a man, I won't hold her back. And in addition, I have also noticed that I only love her as my best friend and that’s what we are. Everyone is happy and that's the main thing." With these words the topic didn’t need to be discussed more for both divorced wizards. "That's really good to hear! But what are you doing here, if I may ask?", asked Sierra. As casually as possible, she stuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. This was an attempt to distract from her suddenly heated cheeks. Harry always had the same effect on her as when she was at school. It was incredible! "On my very last mission, my magic wand broke! But as the new teacher in Hogwarts, it's beneficial to have a functioning wand.", Harry said, laughing. Sierra giggled along. It was as if she was 16 again! "Teacher at Hogwarts?", she tried to focus on Harry's words. The experienced wizard nodded proudly. It couldn't fill him with more pride than to be able to teach in the first place he had called his home! "In front of you stands the new teacher for defense against the Dark Arts! It is rumored that he will be teaching at Hogwarts for more than a year because he survived death twice.", Harry joked. Laughing, Sierra shook her head and wiped her forehead. "There is clearly no better teacher for these lessons than you! And now I know that my child will have the perfect teacher for such an important subject. I still vividly remember the hours of Dumbledore's army!" A wheez escaped Harry at this statement. Then he shook his head as if he couldn't believe it. But no one knew what he couldn't believe until Harry said it out loud! "After all these years, I still can't believe that a Malfoy has joined us!" For this, Harry received a clearly annoyed look from Sierra. Her father's reputation and her brother's former reputation haunted the woman through every situation in her life. As if she had to be the same just because of that cursed last name... Cursed in the truest sense of the word! "I'm sorry to get you off your dream cloud, but I'm not my dad or the teen Draco!", Sierra snapped and crossed her arms. "And if I may remind you of my mother, who also owns the surname Malfoy." From both wizards, the thoughts wandered to the story between Narcissa and Harry, when she had protected him from Voldemort. Sierra had stood right next to her mother and heard every single word! Now Harry's features were flooded with regret. "I know and I'm sorry! That was another stupid thought that didn't let go of me in my youth and apparently hasn't let go of it completely even now.", added the well-known Potter.  After a moment of silence, Harry spoke again. "I'm looking already forward to seeing you again, Sierra." A tender smile pulled the corners of his mouth upwards. Sierra's anger smoked away and she returned his smile.  "I feel the same way!"

Suddenly, Harry chuckled quietly. Sierra tilted her head because she didn't understand why he had started laughing. But she didn't have to ask, as Harry clarified it on his own. "I just had to think about our school days.", he said, looking dreamily into the air. "We really had a lot of beautiful moments together. Also some who were very tense!" You could see that he actually wanted to say something. Instead, he bit his lip and slid his fingers embarrassed as he felt through his raven-black hair. Harry let his gaze wander through the store before he managed to. "Because of this tension, Fred and George always said that you were in love with me.", Harry concluded what he had started. Sierra giggled. "Funny that you mention it! I actually had quite a crush on you in our fifth year." “Mommy! Let's go now. I already have my wand!", Lucy squealed and pukked her mother's sleeve. Sierra looked at her daughter with a mild smile, while Lucy continued to talk to her. But first, the witch turned again to her friend. "Goodbye, Harry! Hopefully we'll see each other again." Harry couldn't respond because Lucy mercilessly pulled her mother out of the business. Now Harry could only wave at Sierra.

A few days later, an owl fluttered through one of the high windows of the Malfoy residence. Sierra lived there with her two daughters since the divorce. Draco and her mom lived in other houses and their dad was still in Azkaban. So the three witches had the whole property to themselves! Frowning, Sierra rose and took the letter from the bird's beak. From whom should the letter be? She had only written a letter to her mother and brother yesterday. She removed the wax seal, which did not belong to anyone in her family, and took the parchment from its envelope.

Dear Sierra,

I can't believe I'm saying something like that because I've always hated divination. But I think it was a sign that we met each other today. I decided for myself this morning that I am ready again for a new love or at least to meet new people in this regard! An hour later you are standing right in front of me. The girl - today, of course, the woman - with I was head over heels in love in the fourth and fifth year! When I saw you, all the old feelings came right back and I thought maybe it was finally my chance. Or our chance! However, you want to see it. But now I've talked enough about it! I am writing you this letter because I wanted to ask you if you are interested in going out with me. Maybe it's stupid to calculate my chances just because you said that you felt something for me at the time!

It was really nice to meet you again after all these years!

Love Harry

Her heart tensed as Sierra laid down the letter. It was filled with such pretty, but he was not the first man in her life to wrap her around her finger with wonderful words. Sierra was not willing to give away her heart again! Above all, she could not expect her children to let someone into their hearts who might disappear. She didn't want to take the risk! Not when it was about her children. With a heavy heart, Sierra picked up parchment and feather to write Harry an answer.

Dear Harry,

This letter is probably not the answer you expected, but it wouldn't be fair to write anything else. I'm sorry, but I have to disappoint you! Unfortunately, I cannot accept this kind of invitation. But if you would like that, we could meet for a coffee. On friendship basis, of course, I would be happy to see you again! It has been far too long.

Best regards

Sierra Malfoy

After she had written the short letter and the ink had dried on the parchment, she gave the sealed envelope to the recovered owl. For Sierra, this wasn’t a matter of fact anymore. At least for her mind. Her heart and soul cried in silence.

The lightning lit up the entire sky for a second, which was shrouded in thunder clouds. When the thunder sounded just a blink later, Sierra was glad that her 5-year-old Amy was already sleeping soundly and was keeping her midday rest. Amy was terrified of thunderstorms and after that hectic morning, Sierra needed a moment to take a deep breath. As soon as she had dropped on the armchair, a heavy knock echoed through the villa. A soft sigh slipped over Sierra's lips as she walked to the door. All the exhaustion was suddenly forgotten when the tired mother opened the door and froze. Harry Potter was on her doorstep! "Harry?!", she gasped. "What are you doing here?" "I don't get it! I just don't understand your answer.", it burst out of the completely soaked Harry, who immediately stormed into the house. Confused, Sierra followed her old schoolmate into the dining room, which he headed for. "I'm confused. What exactly don't you understand?", Sierra replied. Harry abruptly turned to the young woman. "I don't understand why you wrote this to me. Why can't you go out with me? It sounds like you want to in your letter, but something is holding you back. If it is not like this, please look me in the eye and tell me that and I will leave. But if it's not like that, please tell me the truth!" demanded Harry to know. Passion blazed in his eyes and it also flared up in Sierra. "It just doesn’t work. Okay?!" Harry shook his head. "Nothing is okay! You're dodging me." he accused his former classmate. Then she snorted. "Yeah and?" His manner made them defiant. What he could do, she could do anyway! "I know you're hiding something from me! I just don't understand why." This caused all the dams in Sierra to break. "YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I WON'T GO OUT WITH YOU?! MY HUSBAND CHEATED ON ME FOR YEARS! I MARRIED HIM AT THE DEMAND OF MY FAMILY, FELL IN LOVE WITH HIM, HAD CHILDREN; WHICH I LOVE ABOVE ALL AND ALL THIS TO BE LIED TO AND CHEATED ON." Tears poured down her face and she fell to her knees. Sierra lacked the strength to keep on his feet. It was just too much!  "I can't trust myself with love. Not again! And I can't let my kids be hurt by me possibly being left by someone I might love again."

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Taglists

Always: @the-second-tonks

Harry Potter: @imabee-oralizard@reader-inserts-and-others-thing

29 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 12. September 2022

#2

I only got the chance to watch Merlin once so I am currently re watching it before Netflix is taking it down on December 14th

Everyone in Germany who has Netflix and loves Merlin take this last chance to watch it *sob* sob*

46 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 23. November 2022

Meine #1 des Jahres 2022

The Big Bang Theory characters‘ sexualities

Leonard straight

Sheldon asexual =>sexrepulsed

Amy bi-curious demisexual

Penny straight

Bernadette straight

Howard bisexual but doesn’t want to admit it and tries to appear as straight as possible

Rajesh bisexuell closeted because he is into Howard and knows how hard Howard tries to be straight demi-boy

62 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 18. April 2022

Hol dir deinen Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 →

[moonbeam-writing]

How would Karma react to a gender neutral S/O who has a lot of brothers and Karma thinks that they’ll be over protective but they’re actually really chill? Feel free to ignore this ask if it’s too descriptive tho!

— Meeting the Siblings!

๑ Requested by a lovely Anon! ♡

๑ Characters: Karma Akabane (Assassination Classroom)

๑ Quick Note: I am literally so fucking sorry that this took so long! Oh my gods, I feel terrible! Anyways! I really hope you enjoy this! Not gonna lie, it was a tiny bit hard to write, because I've never been in a situation like this, but I like to think this went well and I hope you like it. :)

๑ Warnings: None!

๑ Word Count:

—

⊹ฺ Karma would probably have mixed feelings about meeting his love’s brothers.

⊹ฺ On one hand, baby pictures for blackmail. On the other, he’d be a bit nervous, not that he’d ever admit it.

⊹ฺ Regardless. Anything to make his love happy.

-

“Ready, Karma?” (Y/N) asked, looking at Karma as the pair walked to (Y/N)’s.

Karma looked down at them and the nervous, yet giddy smile on their lips. “As I’ll ever be.”

Even though he wasn’t about to admit it out loud, Karma found himself feeling just as nervous as his love beside him seemed to. Normally, Karma wouldn’t care about the opinions of (Y/N)’s siblings, especially with how many people didn’t feel anything positive for him, but their siblings were important to them.

“They’ll love you.” They smiled confidently beside him.

“Oh yeah?” Karma responded, noticing just how close to their home the two of them are becoming.

“Mhm!” (Y/N) happily hummed. To Karma, it seemed as though they were getting less nervous the closer they got. He envied them. “It's not like you have anything to worry about anyway. There's only four.” Karma was aware, but he also knew that these boys mean the world to them. (Y/N), however, means the world to him.

Sooner than expected, the two were walking through (Y/N)'s front door. Much to the couple's surprise, (Y/N)’s brothers were already waiting for them. All four were standing pretty much right on the other side of the door, expectant looks on all of their faces.

“So…” The oldest started. “This him?”

(Y/N) nodded, smiling around at everyone. There was a bit of nervousness still, but they knew it was necessary and tried to blow past it. This was between (Y/N)'s boys and they weren't about to get in the way.

“Yep! Brothers of mine, this is Karma. Karma, these are my brothers.”

Karma looked ahead of himself at their brothers and felt (Y/N)'s fingers lace with his. (Y/N)'s older brothers were older than them by two and three years, while their younger brothers were twins who were younger by a year.

Karma had heard a bunch about the boys in the past and knew just how protective of (Y/N) they were. Unlike most middle children, (Y/N) was very loved and knew it.

The (L/N) family also had busy adults, and (Y/N) had taken all of the responsibility on their shoulders. The boys did everything in their power to take care of them, and Karma immediately knew that that was how it was in the house, whether (Y/N) was aware or not.

"Nice to meet you all." Even though it was sincere, Karma could tell what was supposed to be a polite smile was a bit stunted. Karma could handle various dangerous situations, but for some reason, this was weird.

"Likewise," one of (Y/N)'s younger brothers answered. There was a long, awkward silence and (Y/N) could feel their skin begin to crawl.

"You love them, right?" The oldest asked before the second took over.

"You're taking care of them too, right? They're happy?"

Karma had to give the boys brownie points; they were kind of intimidating.

“Of course I’m taking care of them! And you’re happy, right, (Y/N)?” Karma answered before looking over at them.

“Yep! I’m super happy with him!” (Y/N) replied, practically bouncing on their heels.

The sincerity in their voice and the smile on their face brought Karma a feeling of accomplishment. It was warm and settled itself deep in his chest. He couldn’t explain, let alone comprehend quite how he was feeling. He wondered just how deep he was in with the person next to him.

Karma watched as (Y/N)'s brothers looked between themselves before staring back at the couple in an absolute deadpan.

That's when the youngest finally spoke. "You're cool."

The situation felt so bewildering it was laughable. Things were incredibly serious a moment ago, and now any tension that was there disappeared.

"Really?!" (Y/N) gasped excitedly, looking at their siblings.

"Yeah, he's fine."

Karma smirked a bit to himself as (Y/N) excitedly thanked the boys. He knew everything would be fine.

[arthurflecksgirl]

Hey, how is your day going so far? I hope it's splendid! Can I request an Arthur x reader where the reader is recovering from self harm and he is proud of them? You can choose it to be sfw or nsfw. Thanks in advance! :)

Hey Anon, Thank you for your ask. I 'm okay and I hope you are doing well,too?! I am soooo sorry this took me so long but I finally sat down today and wrote your request. I was thinking about that request since you first send it to me. It was a beautiful one but also a tough one. Itˋs a sensitive subject and I was struggeling with how I wanted to write it. I was afraid to write it in a way you wouldnt approve so I am a bit nervous posting this and I hope with all my heart that you will like the result. This request was close to my heart but a bit of a struggle until I finally sat down. I am sending love to anyone. Especially everyone who had to go through this or still does go through it.

Words: 1900

Trigger warning: Mentions of self harm

Arthur nervously chewed on his pencil ,while the blank page of his journal was staring at him like it expected something good to happen. More than one good thing happened in his life recently and he absolutely hated how difficult it was for him to put his emotions into words. Words worthy of how he truly felt about not being alone anymore. He felt like the emotion of it was a seed he didnt knew how to water properly ,to make it the flower that was a written page in his diary. One he would like to show to you , randomly in the middle of the night. To proof how he felt inside. Blooming.

He always felt like he wasnˋt good with words but so much better with showing his feelings off in a different way. A movement of his body when you were slow dancing across the bedroom, a piece of music hummed into your ear while he was pulling you closer, the touch of his thumb brushing your cheek before he leaned in to kiss you. Body language was his way to express what was growing deep inside of him. A love so immessurable, he was becoming a new man. And you were his garden he wanted to spent the rest of his life in. He wanted to build a cabin right in the middle of the gardens heart and plant roses and violets. Once he figured out how to water them and which flowers demend more sunlight or which ones prefered the shadows. He wanted to learn every aspect of your soul. Flower by flower. Petal by petal. To let his roots grow towards yours. Arthur touched the artificial flowers on his desk. They reminded him of who he used to be. Unreal and far from what he desired to be. No sunlight could have touched him  enough to let him grow.

Until there was you. His garden. He finally became what he was supposed to be. A sunflower. The flower of joy and happiness. But also the flower of the man who once drank yellow painting to commit suicide by putting happiness inside himself. At least that was the rumor Arthur heard on tv when he watched a documentary about Vincent Van Gogh. And he was quiet fascinated by it. Somehow the though was relateable to him. In a very abstact, sad, beautiful way.

„Last week“ he wrote , trying to draw a sunflower but it just didnt turned out the way he intented to. „She  finally felt comfortable enough to wear a short sleeve in front of me. I guess that means she really does feel save around me. Ah, it means the world!“  Arthur smiled to himself when he drew a tiney heart and filled it in. His heart was so full of you. Just thinking about the way you took off your comfort sweater for the first time to show him the scars of the past ,created a feeling in his heart he couldnˋt name. 

It has been a while since you let him know about your struggles with self harm. And Arthur could tell that it wasnˋt an easy thing to do. He would always remember the moment he first saw your naked arms. The pattern of hurt on your fragile skin. This moment of vulnerability and strengh. He wanted to kiss it. Arthur wanted to kiss along every single scar to show you how beautiful you were to him and how much he belived in the power of a gentle lip kissing where it hurts the most. But he didnˋt. Arthur wasnˋt sure if it was the right moment yet. He didnt wanted to do anything wrong. So he just sat there, thinking about placing kisses all over, while he picked his own eyebrow with his fingers.

„One day“ he wrote underneath the heart „I will kiss  her scars and she will feel what I felt when she was taking care of me“. Arthur put the pencil down and took a deep drag of his cigarette. Smoke filled his lungs but he wished it was your breath instead.

A familiar noise interrupted his daydream as he put the remains of the cig in his pink ashtray. „Hey darling, Iˋm home“. Your voice made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The way you called him darling was music in his ears. His favourite song he repeated in his head when he was at work or taking the bus. He sometimes hummed the words „Hey darling“ , as if it was a prayer. „Hey darling Iˋm home“. Home. That was never the word he would have used to  discribe the place he was living in. Never what he thought of when he felt the worn fabric of his couch underneath his naked skin or was lying in the bathtube, checking for how long he could handle to keep his head under water. This place with all itˋs heavyness wasnˋt home. But it transformed into a home eveytime you opened the door to wrap your arms around him. A genlte kiss upon his forehead. His noticlable frown  underneath your lips. Hey darling, Iˋm home. You are home, finally. We are. A home.

Arthur shifted his position ,so your lips immediately found their way to his forehead. „Forehead kisses“ he thought „Are her way to tell me how much she cares“. He closed his eyes for a moment. His dark lashes covering his piercing eyes like a curtain, to feel the moment with all itˋs gentleness. When Arthur opened his eyelids again he noticed something wrapped around your wrist. His heart stopped for a moment. The thought of you harming yorself again hit him so hard he forgot how to breathe. „Y/N…are you….okay? Oh my god…“ Arthurs index finger reached out for your wrist. He barely dared touching it. His tear filled eyes blurring his sight.

„Yeah, I am. How was your day, Arthur?“ you replied as you sat down on his lap to kiss the corner of his mouth. You noticed his lips trembling underneath your own. A tiney earthquake emerging from within. His day was okay while he was sittin on his desk thinking of all the beautiful things he could write to you. Until you came home with a hurt wrist. Now nothing remained okay. Seeing you hurt was worse than his own pain. Your wound was his wound. Arthur held your face between his hands, unable to responde with a kiss.

„Are you…. Are you hurt?“ he whispered, pointing at your bandage. He wanted to be here for you. Now more than ever. His mind was travelling back to the day you found him with a bleeding forehead after he hit his head against the wall. He recalled your hand resting on the spot that hurt so much and how it lead to the first forehead kiss he received in his life. Thatsˋs when he knew he wasnˋt all alone in this anymore. Thats when he knew that, yes there will be bad days , even together but he didnt had to face them on his own anymore. There was someone looking after him. Someone willing to ease the pain. To heal his wounds. Old or recent. He remembered how gently you held his hurting head, fingers brushing  back his hair to clean the wound. Heˋll never forget the first act of kindness and love from a loved one.

And now it was his turn to tell you itˋs going to be okay. His turn to take care of your wounds.

„No baby, Iˋm not hurt. Iˋve got a little suprise for you…“ Arthurˋs eyes glanced deeply into yours „A…. surprise? What do you mean?“

You lifted your arm smiling at him. Thats when he noticed your wrist wasnˋt bandaged but wrapped in some kinda foil. You slowly started to unwrap it, a big smile lingering on your face. „Darling, I hope you like it“.

Arthur couldnt belive his eyes. Were once was a scar six letters showed. Written on your wrist. Six letters so familar, he started sobbing.

„Oh Arthur….“ You touched his cheek „You like it?“

He covered his mouth with his right hand, mumbling.

„I thought about this  for a while now. Getting your name tattooed to cover my oldest scar“.

A single tear ran down his happy face „Thats…. Just…. Wow. I…. donˋt know what to say. Thatˋs my name. You got a tattoo of my name. „ Arthur couldnt stop staring at the letters. „Can I….touch it?“.

 You smiled „Not yet, itˋs still fresh and I need to put some cream on it.“

„Oh! Yeah…. Of course.“

Arthur tried to understand what was happpening right now. A minute ago he was afraid you hurt yourself again and now  he found himself looking at a tattoo that was his very own name. Part of you.

He felt your other hand touching his blushing cheek „I really wanted this to remind me of how beautiful things can happen after experiencing so much pain. There is this scar and itˋs still there but somehow it belongs to my past and it doesn´t define me. It never did. And now there is you. The light that came after the dark. The one who understands my scars and eases the pain by loving me for who I am. I love you, Arthur, I love you so much itˋs so demanding and beautiful and …..now youˋre always on my mind, in my heart and under my skin.“

Arthur gently lifted your hand, careful enough to not touch the tattoo. „I love you“ he whispered „Can I…. can I kiss your…“ goosebumps covered your skin as his upper lip found itˋs way to travel across your arm. Soft kisses, thoughtful and warm, scar after scar. You couldnt help but cry a little. Arthur froze „My god, Iˋm sorry I only wanted to…“

„Donˋt stop“ you whispered through the tears „Please….“

The light in Arthurs eyes came back when he realized it was happy tears running down your cheeks. Tears of relief and inner peace.

„Remember when you found me after….“

„I do, Arthur.“

„That was the first time I felt truly loved“ he breathed, while he continued kissing your skin.

„You found me at my worst. And loved me. Especially where it hurt the most“

You closed your eyes, concentrating on the softness of his lips. His presence was medicine. Calming and warm like a favourite sweater.

You remembered  very well. It was the day you knew that you would give the world to protect this man. The beautiful soul that Arthur was. You couldnt change his past but write his future. You and him together. Sitting in front of a blank page, where anything was possible.  Every yet unborn poem was demanding to be written. Every small moement of happiness. And when the pages get torn and some parts get blacked out, you would be here to put a sticker on it. Heart shaped. One thatˋs glowing in the dark. So when he openes his journal at night he couldnt see the scribbles and blacked out parts. Only the bandage that was love.

Just like the words written on your wrist.

Arthur.

 

„I wanna do the same for you“ he mumbled between the kisses „Loving you where it hurts the most…so...“ he lifted his face, looking at you „…where does it hurt?“

„Every inch untouched  by your loving hands“.

Only a heartbeat later Arthurs thumb gently brushed over your bottom lip as he whispered „Let me take care of that“.